A/N: So, after some edits and the addition of a scene on the end, this officially my longest chapter yet, and also the one with the most filler. But I'm having a lot of fun with Jim and Valravn's connection, and I felt like while I had shown their emotional closeness, I needed to show a little development on the sexual attraction side (I mean, it is Kirk).

I may or may not be planning a little smut at a later date, which means the rating would go up, but that depends on the demand for it. I definitely plan on hinting at it, but- feedback, anyone? Just to give me an idea of your opinions.

Also: this is the last filler chapter. The next chapter we will begin broaching the edge of canon events- and then we will be diving into events from the film. A solid sequence of events should (note: should means might not) make it easier to begin powering forwards and back on schedule. So, without further ado: enjoy.

24/12/2016: Update: decision made, I'm doing smut. Not for a good few chapters yet, however; expect to find it somewhere in Chapter XIX.

IV
Young Blood

December 31, 2257 – San Francisco; California, Earth

Kirk loved sunset almost as much as he loved dawn. The zenith of the sky was a faultless shade of blue, the clear frozen colour reminding him of a certain seventeen- eighteen, as of three weeks ago- year-old's eyes, the few clouds that were marring the perfect void luminous threads of pale gold and white as fine as spider silk, deepening in the west and blazing retina-searing orange. The world was beautiful, the city of San Francisco set aflame, dazzling wherever sun struck glass, the air bracing; it was the cusp of the New Year, according to Earth's solar calendar and Western tradition, and to Kirk that meant one thing. Mentally mapping a route through the streets that had become familiar in the past two years, he flipped open his communicator and punched in a single number into his speed dial, plunging his free hand into the pocket of his leather jacket.

The digital tone purred promisingly, before the connection clicked to life.

"Hello?"

Kirk grinned. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Getting roaring drunk, skinny dipping in Sacramento River and waking up with a raging hangover in the morning," a voice at the other end answered, trademark sarcasm injected into every word. Kirk snickered, his breath crystallising before him and dispersing as he continued his brisk pace. "Why?"

"I was serious," Jim replied, mock-offended, before lapsing back. "I was thinking we could keep up last year's tradition. Could be fun. If you're up for it."

"Oh? Which part, specifically?" Her tone might have registered as derisive and sharp enough to cut steel, had it been anyone else but him listening- but Kirk detected a tremble of laughter hidden behind it. "The part where we sit in my uncle's apartment, watching ancient films and eating ice cream, the part where we go out drinking beforehand, or the part where we break the law doing the latter?"

"I still hold that it is a stupid law to begin with," Kirk said defensively, glaring up at the glittering skyline as though it was somehow at fault for the United States of America's alcohol regulation; even after the unification of Earth in 2063 and the eventual fusing of all former governments into a single body, differences in regional laws remained. "Eighteen is plenty old enough to be drinking in a bar. Besides, that's the legal age in England, and you're technically English, so it's not that illegal. Not that anyone actually cares. Just look at last time. Really, all you have to do is flash your academy ID to the bartender and they make the assumption-" At the light laugh resonating through his communicator, Jim shook his head forcefully, realising that he was rambling. "Okay, look, that isn't the point- you don't have to drink if you don't want to. Whatever you want."

Jim heard a soft rustle- her hair brushing against the receiver as she switched hands. "I thought we only went out last year because you thought I was still feeling raw over a certain Andorian who shall not be named," Valravn asked, sounding genuinely confused. "Which, I am willing to admit, I was, maybe. A little. But since when was this tradition?"

"Since I said so! Let's make it one," Kirk decided, his face upturned to gaze into the rapidly darkening skies. They were turning a royal shade of sapphire in the west, and the brightest stars were beginning to flicker hesitantly in the waning light. "Let's face it, V, we might not end up on the same starship after we graduate, so we may as well make this one count- just in case."

There was a pause, punctuated by a thoughtful exhale. "And you're certain that you wouldn't rather be, oh, chasing after a particularly gorgeous conquest instead?"

Kirk frowned, coming to a halt. He turned, leaning against a streetlight. "What? No- of course not. If I wanted to celebrate the New Year that way, I wouldn't have called, now would I?"

"Hm." He could have been mistaken, but Valravn sounded strangely pleased. "So, say, if you had to choose between me or-"

"No contest," he cut her off before she could come up with a scenario; no hypothetical would have been enough. "Why would I want some random stranger when I could have you?" Kirk shrugged, raking his fingers through his hair. "I'd have to be crazy. You're the best of both worlds- minus the fantastic sex aspect, of course. N-no, wait- that- came out wrong- I meant- uh, you know, no offence intended, I'm sure sex with you would be more than fantastic-"

Jim bit his tongue, fairly sure that Valravn was smirking by now.

"Uh. Please don't tell Pike about this conversation. I'm pretty sure he would kill me and make sure that no one ever found the body."

"Don't be ridiculous, Chris wouldn't murder his favourite protégé. He would just ensure that your entire Starfleet career consisted of a far-flung post on a sub-arctic climate planet," Valravn informed him pleasantly. Kirk shifted uncomfortably, despite knowing that she was only teasing him- probably. "But I won't say anything, just in case. I would hate to think of your sparkling wit being wasted on nothing but ice and rock."

"Appreciate it, sweetheart," Jim hummed out, flashing his most brilliant smile, hoping that seeped into his voice. "Ah, come on, V. Take pity on me. Everyone else left for winter break. Even Bones is in Georgia visiting his daughter."

"I know," Valravn murmured, the soft hitch of her breath telegraphing that she had just hoisted herself up to sit atop a table- probably crossing her legs, one knee over the other, and lounging back with almost obscene grace against an elbow, the way she did when her mind was finally released work and studying and she simply talked. "I never thought that San Francisco could feel like such a ghost town. At least on the Starfleet front. Everyone seems to be away this year. Uhura went to spend the holidays with her family, and she took Gaila with her- I think Amrit is out of the solar system entirely- Hai is observing solar flares off-planet- and Chris is still away on some peacekeeping mission. It's- alright, I may be willing to admit that I am beginning to feel a little stir-crazy."

"So… is that a yes?" Jim asked hopefully.

Valravn heaved a sigh. "Yes. I suppose. But we're eating before we go out. I'll cook something."

Kirk lit up. "Great! What were you thinking?"

"Absolutely no idea. Let me check what we have," Valravn said, the sound of her bare feet padding on cold tiles followed by the swish and low hum of a refrigerator door opening in the background; she was one of those people who claimed that she could taste the difference between replicated and organically grown food, and avoided the former if she could get the latter. Kirk smiled to himself, imagining her wandering around her uncle's apartment; her dark hair braided immaculately, as always, but dressed in a pair of black canvas shorts and tank top, the ones that clung to her figure without her noticing and accentuated her legs. "Um… how does flash-fried chicken, and- hm… peppers stuffed with feta and cherry tomatoes sound?"

Kirk voiced his approval with a deep groan of delight. "Perfect."

"Great. Pick up some olive oil on your way- extra virgin. And sea salt."

"Will do. Ice cream?"

"Chocolate fudge brownie, peanut butter and- caramel?"

"Of course. Anything else you want?"

"Just you and your sparkling wit," Valravn replied in a voice like satin, before terminating the call.

Kirk burst out laughing, secretly flattered.

Hours later, the sweet-salt peppery tang of classic Mediterranean flavour still lingered in his mouth, a pleasant burn of alcohol in his chest, a measure of whiskey poured out each in front of them. Lounging in the leather booth opposite him, reminiscent of a young, bored, vain queen on her throne, Valravn had ignored the midwinter weather entirely, wrapped up in a little black dress that did sinful things for her figure and torturous things to Kirk, long hair pulled back in an immaculate silken rope over one bare shoulder, threads curling loose to tease her skin. The hair cuff he had given her last year held the braid together, fractures of electric blue flashing within the cold dark metal. Kirk felt almost annoyed at how flawless she was even when she was supposed to be unravelling, while he was wearing a comfortably creased t-shirt with a long-fading emblem printed on the chest, scuffed jeans and a leather jacket contoured to his shoulders. He wondered if he shouldn't have suggested a night in- she would have been more relaxed in a set of sleeping-shorts and tank-top, barefoot, with a pillow resting on her lap and digging into a tub of ice cream in hand.

Perhaps that was because they would have been alone, though, and she would have been contoured against him, leaning back against his chest with his arm wrapped around her shoulders, humming contently. He liked those moments, when she just- melted into him, like she trusted him and there was nowhere else she wanted to be, and he agreed completely.

Valravn had let him choose the bar, and Jim had immediately suggested one of his most frequented spots- somewhere that, at the very least, he knew she would approve of the music played. Kirk had finally corrupted her the previous summer; though she preferred the punk and alternative era a few decades younger than his centuries-old rock and blues, he counted it as a victory.

Still, Kirk could see the distracted glaze in her eyes, and he knew it wasn't from the alcohol.

"Something on your mind, V?"

Her gaze flicked to him, and she smiled briefly, cherry lipgloss catching the light, crossing her legs under the scrubbed wooden table, the hem of her dress riding up in with tantalising slip of soft black fabric. "I don't know. Should I bother lying?"

Kirk took in a slow, cooling breath, supressing a flare of something white-hot and wicked, attempting to tune out the inconveniently vocal part of his brain that proposed just dragging her across the table and having done with it- which he could not and refused to listen to, despite the resounding approval from other parts of his anatomy that certainly did not adhere to logic. Jim had too much to lose, and not solely via Christopher Pike's inescapable wrath.

Besides, he could do better than that.

"Nope," he said nonchalantly, taking a swig of his drink and attempting afresh to ignore the expanses of skin bared to him by her dress; the modest neckline was held up by two fine silver chains, crossing over her chest and fastening behind her shoulders, each kitten heel glittering with a tiny swirl of crystals. "And excuses about how it will kill the vibe are pretty useless too, seeing as how neither of us is going to be able to relax until you tell me."

"Hm. Point taken."

Valravn picked up her glass and took a sip, leaving a translucent print of shimmering gloss on the rim. Kirk couldn't help but think that the colour looked so much better on her when it had rubbed away slightly, scouring away the glitter, leaving only a powerful matte stain on her lips; gloss might taste unexpectedly good for something cosmetic and artificial, but it was so damn slippery, preventing him from gaining the traction needed to make a kiss really spectacular, the kind that stole your breath and left you trembling- when it was like this, it wouldn't get in his way, yet he would still bear the mark of her on his mouth long afterwards, the particular colour dark and dramatic enough-

Kirk mentally kicked himself. He couldn't decide whether he was more annoyed that he had so little psychological self-restraint, or because his it had been about a kiss, of all things. If it had been anyone else, his mind would have been between the sheets in a millisecond.

Not that she hadn't been involved in a hypothetical bedroom scenario in the past, many more times than Kirk would be willing to admit. His mind had catalogued hundreds of scenarios behind his eyelids, all sweet breathless pleases and yeses as he took his sweet time with her, his tongue at the inside of her thigh, her nails ranking across his skin, his fingers twisting into her hair, her spine bowing-

Stop it stop it stop it! What is wrong with you, Kirk?! Get a grip!

"It's nothing," Valravn said, too calmly, pulling him away from imagined glimpses of crumpled sheets and loose dark hair and candy-coloured smudges of his pillowcase and the collar of his shirt and the waistband of his jeans, and snapping him back into the present with a rushing ambient cloud of conversation and clinking glasses and low strains of music. "Nothing urgent, at least. The good captain and I had a disagreement before he left. Well. Disagreement might be putting it mildly. I was wondering whether or not I should call and apologise."

"Depends," Kirk said thoughtfully, lower lip pressed to the rim of his glass, his voice echoing into its well. "Was it your fault? The argument?"

"I suppose I was in the wrong- but- actually, no. I mean- no." Valravn sighed despairingly, suddenly sinking down in her seat, her expression increasingly helpless. "I- well, I don't know, maybe."

Jim immediately straightened, concern and curiosity piqued. "Jeez, V. What was it about?"

Valravn hesitated.

"My specialism." She paused, biting the inside of her cheek, gazing down into the liquid amber and smoke-quartz swirling at the bottom of her glass. "He wants me to transfer into command."

Kirk's thoughts ground to a halt.

Captain Christopher Pike- his mentor, rational, level-headed, sharp as a tack, with a unique gift for gauging potential- had told his niece not to go into security. Valravn Winter, unbeaten in both long-range and close combat, excelling in tactical and strategic exercises, with the additional distinctions of not only her age relative to her skill, but also in possession of superior combat training in Terran, Vulcan and Andorian martial arts; expert-level firearms training, specialising in long range rifles; tactical training; command-post training; emergency medical training; an honorary degree in engineering, specialising in weapons design, and verbal fluency in Orion Prime, Cardassian, Vulcan, and a smattering of Klingon.

Kirk found himself blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

"Are you serious? Was he high?"

"Wha- James!"

Any other time, her scandalised reaction would have been funny. However, at the moment, Kirk was far too outraged on her behalf to notice.

"Drunk?"

"What?! James, no-"

"Brain damage? Hypnosis?"

"N-"

"Then there is no reasonable, feasible explanation as to why Pike would say anything so fucking stupid."

"Kirk," Valravn sighed, rubbing her temple with two fingers, resorting to the use of his surname in her frustration, "not that I don't appreciate your support, because I do, but it's not exactly helping."

Jim stared her down, smouldering. "You're not at fault, V," he said tonelessly. "You're passing with flying colours. You'll probably end up on the bridge as chief of security by the time you hit twenty, which would make you personally responsible for the safety of the ship and of every single senior crew member, captain included. And Pike wants you to switch to command? Seriously? He's crazy! And he'll realise that he's being crazy soon enough."

Valravn raised her eyes to meet his- her irises the light of a distant blue star, their almond shape defined by a border of smoke-black eyeliner- just like the night he first met her. "He seems to think I would be more valuable there. That I'm wasting my potential."

"It's your choice," Kirk said flatly, quietly furious. "And it would still be your choice to make even if he was right. Combat and tactical coordination is what you excel in, beyond anything else. Anyone with half a brain cell could see that."

Valravn tapped her glass with a single fingernail moodily. "I know that. Intellectually. But I… there a moments where I wish it could be different. Maybe. But I always come back to the same place. That this is what I am good at. And I suppose I should try to use that to the advantage of all."

She sighed, and Kirk saw a look glimmering in her eyes that didn't belong in someone so young.

"How do you explain to someone that you admire them, but you don't want to be them, without hurting them? Or explain to them that you can't be like them? That you won't ever be?"

"Tell me if you figure it out," Jim replied humourlessly, casting Valravn a sympathetic smile. "I wouldn't worry. Pike will come around. Promise."

Valravn smiled into her whiskey. "You can't promise that, James."

"Watch me," Kirk replied lightly, draining his glass. "And even if I can't, I bet it made you feel better."

She laughed. "Of course. As always. I don't know how you do it, but thank you."

Kirk was relieved to see the shadows finally lifting away from Valravn, still smiling as she knocked her drink back in a single move. The motion revealed the column of her throat, and suddenly Jim was arrested by the image of pressing his lips against her pulse point and running his tongue along the channel of her neck into the hollow of her throat, wondering if he would feel the vibrations of her voice and the sting of her nails.

He instantly garrotted the thought.

Cold shower, Kirk. Cold. Shower.

"I think I might try a house cocktail. The Black Dahlia." Valravn said suddenly.

"Ah- yeah. Chambord and Kahlua. Raspberry and coffee. That's your kind of drink," Kirk rattled off, flustered.

"I'll get you another while I'm up there." Valravn slid out of her seat. "Oh- while I'm gone, maybe you could pass the time by thinking of how to explain to me how you managed to miss the curvaceous redhead who has been in your direct line of sight and blatantly eye-fucking you for the past twenty-six minutes. It's actually kind of disgusting." She smirked. "You are off your game."

She left before Jim could formulate a reply, an amused lilt in her step.

As she melted into the throng, Kirk's gaze flicked up to where Valravn indicated, just over where her left shoulder had been. The woman that she must have been referring to met his gaze flirtatiously.

Kirk forced a polite smile, and looked away.

He really needed another drink.

December 31, 2257 – U.S.S. Yorktown

"Captain Pike. Forgive me, but there appears to be something occupying your mind. That is, assuming that your uncharacteristic unproductivity is of indication."

Pike gave a distracted, vague noise of acknowledgement from the back of his throat.

"Captain?"

The commander finally caught Pike's full attention. He swivelled his seat towards the science officer, seated at his own terminal, his expression as unreadable as ever, spine perpendicular to his seat and posture carefully formal and ergonomic. Pike rubbed his forehead wearily, exhaustion weighing his thoughts down, as though his blood had been replaced with mercury.

"Yes- apologies, Spock. It's been a long twenty-four hours."

"I understand, sir," Spock said with the slightest inclination of his head, fluid and cool. "If there is any way I can be of assistance, please know that you need only ask."

Pike smiled wryly. "Thank you, Spock, but it's a private matter. Nothing for you to be concerned about."

"Ah." The half-Vulcan looked mildly uncomfortable for a split second. "Forgive me, Captain; I overstepped."

"What? Oh. No, I appreciate it, Spock," Pike said, straightening in his seat with a heavy exhalation, locking his fingers together, elbows resting across his knees. "If I was going to discuss it with anyone aboard this ship, you would be the immediate choice. But I can't ask you to do that, not in good conscience. Being burdened with your superior officer's personal problems isn't exactly part of your job description."

"Perhaps," Spock conceded. "However, I would be remiss not to suggest that the separation of personal and professional agendas may prove advantageous in this particular scenario, as I am more likely to hold an entirely objective view." He paused. "I would also hasten to point out that you made no request. I offered assistance without prompting."

Pike was silent for a long moment, Spock patiently gazing at him with dark eyes: human in colour, a softer reed-brown compared to the almost black shade that was characteristic of those from other side of his heritage.

"Cadet Valravn Winter. You are her personal tutor, correct?"

"Affirmative. She has been under my supervision since enrolment."

"If you knew nothing about my relation to her, and I asked about her performance, what would you tell me?"

Exactly as Pike had predicted, Spock was impartial in his observations. "I have few criticisms of Cadet Winter, Captain. She is remarkably intelligent, versatile, and her work ethic is unquestionable. Her speed in the successful execution of both intellectual and physical tasks is considerably beyond expected parameters. Her performance is consistent. Her introversion and social reputation may prove problematic or obstructive in the future, though such matters may only be speculated upon as they rely on many outside variables; her contributions to collaborations are valuable and she works amiably with other cadets and her superiors."

"And her specialism? What do you think of that?" Pike asked, the strumming of his fingers against his armrest.

Spock paused calculatingly. "A sound choice, Captain. If Cadet Winter had not selected it herself, I myself would have recommended it."

Pike felt a twist of guilt in his stomach, but pushed further.

"And as to her future career," he continued, "if she pursues it to the fullest, what can she expect?"

"Success in the highest degree," Spock informed him, entirely without sentiment. The commander was not the type to select favourites amongst the cadets, at least not in the traditional sense- and if he was, it was for merit first and foremost. "I can predict the likelihood of her assignment to the starship of her choice upon graduation is approximately 94.82 per cent. That statistic also includes the likely event that said choice will be the already heavily oversubscribed new flagship, the U.S.S. Enterprise. Furthermore, the probability of her assignment as a senior crew member aboard the vessel, should her performance continue its current trend, is 29.7 per cent, with an additional 15.901 per cent chance that she will be selected as a hostile operations specialist."

"In other words, her career would be sparkling." Pike paused pointedly. "That is what you're saying?"

"Affirmative, Captain."

Pike sat back in his chair, and huffed out a chuckle, defeated. The weight that had been dragging down upon his mind transformed into a ballast, stabilising him: a command career would probably be safer, and Pike truly did believe that his niece would flourish in such a position- but it was not his choice, and if the logic aligned with her, he had no room to argue.

"Thank you, Spock. It seems that when we get back to Earth, I will have some apologising to do."

December 31, 2257 – San Francisco; California, Earth

The moon hung low in the sky, the colour of rust, becoming brighter and paler as it ascended; within the next twenty minutes, as the date crossed over into the New Year, it would be sheer ivory.

The shadow of a skyscraper under construction towered above streets of slick frozen asphalt, several block away from Christopher Pike's apartment, twenty storeys of glass and freshly hardened concrete built and locked into existence, the remaining fifteen still hollow, innards exposed. Caging it was a skeleton of steel, bolted into a temporary scaffold; the frame went as high as the top floor, traversing its height by several feet, each beam wide enough to sit across comfortably.

It was from one of those narrow platforms, perched at a soaring altitude that seemed to brush the very ceiling of the planet, that Valravn and Kirk overlooked the city. Valravn's heart was still beating a hard rhythmic tattoo against her sternum, the wind biting her exposed flesh, flakes of ice melting on her skin. It had begun to snow, the world veiled by drifting swirls of cascading white.

It was, quite possibly, the most reckless and fantastic thing she had ever done.

Valravn let her head fall back against the low horizontal beam behind her, the breeze lifting loose strands of her hair, lips parted to breathe out an opaque stream of air, and glanced to her side. In the city lights and the glow cast off the falling snow, Jim's eyes were a stunning, expressive turquoise, cutting through the desaturated, near monochrome hues that the night painted them into.

She shivered, and not entirely because of the cold.

Kirk suddenly chuckled, swivelling his head to look at her. "You just climbed twenty four flights of stairs and six storeys of industrial scaffolding in a cocktail dress and heels," he murmured.

Valravn giggled, still trying to remember how to breathe.

"I know. And you let me. And came right up after me."

They collapsed into guilty helpless laughter- they were being stupid and young and reckless and it felt so wonderful- and Valravn shifted into the warmth emanating from Kirk, feeling him do the same, nearly resting her head on his shoulder. She curled one leg underneath her, the other hanging over the edge of the platform, making the tips of her fingers and soles of her feet hiss and fizzle with electricity.

Finally, recovering, Kirk said through a shaky laugh, "Can we agree, no matter how awesome this story would be as an anecdote, that we cannot tell anyone, ever? Everything always gets back to Pike somehow. It's bad enough that we'll never live down the Catherine wheel incident- Bones still hasn't forgiven me for that one."

"Hm, agreed," Valravn sighed, intoxicated by the madness the night had bought her. Her smile refused to fade, and she dragged in a breath to tell Jim that it was all his fault- she never would have concocted the idea while sober, and he was the one who had seduced her into coming with him to the bar in the first place- but the words dissolved somewhere between her brain and her tongue.

Instead, she found herself gazing at his profile as he looked out across the horizon- tracing the straight slope of his nose, to the shape of his mouth, the strong line of his jaw, the column of his throat, disappearing under the collar of his worn t-shirt and leather jacket. His chest was broad, shoulders corded with muscle, sculpted by combat and endurance training; she knew the strength underneath the weathered cotton, knew both the power of his blows and the dangerously addictive security of his arms when he hugged her, knew the scars on his skin, stark white against rich flushed-golden tan, the stories behind them and why they had not been healed and erased by modern medicine.

Her eyes darted back up to his- blue tinted with green, the colour and drowning depth of Earth's oceans, flickering and soaking in the sight of the city before them, oblivious to her study- framed by bronze lashes.

From the very moment they met, Valravn had seen the facets of James Tiberius Kirk reflected in those clear, honest eyes: the renegade who couldn't say no to danger, the flirt capable of melting a heart in ten words or less, the genius with potential that had drawn Christopher Pike to mentor him, the sincere heart below the shallow façade that seemed the only constant throughout- she had only been sixteen, but she had been attracted to all of it.

Valravn adored him, for every virtue and vice, in a way she knew that she never want to feel for anything or anyone else in the entire universe.

It would be so sublimely easy to get lost in him.

It terrified her.

Kirk suddenly turned towards her. "Tell me your greatest desires," he demanded softly.

Valravn grasped the first reply her panicked mind tossed out to her.

"Tell me a secret."

Kirk's brows knitted together, a slight smile crossing his mouth. "Aren't they the same thing?"

"Not necessarily," Valravn replied, deciding that his smile should be outlawed as she frantically tried to enclose her heart back in ice and chill the strange molten heat pooling in her abdomen. "Just because they're similar, that doesn't necessarily make them the same thing- a single disparity makes them different. Cartesian substance dualism and the reverse application of Leibniz's Law."

Jim dragged in a breath and exhaled sharply, smiling. "Okay. Tell me something," he modified.

Valravn paused, taking the distraction for what it was, and thought for a moment before admitting, "I- was nervous on my first day at the academy."

"Really?"

"Sure," she said simply, running a hand along the platform, gripping the edge until it cut into her fingers. "I was fourteen. And I had to be completely independent in the first semester, at least, to prove to Chris that I was ready. He never wanted me to go into Starfleet so early. I fought him for months, years, before he agreed. I was alone, surrounded by hundreds of graduates who had attended some of the best universities in the galaxy. But then-" Valravn relaxed slightly, the recollection warming her insides. "Mid-morning on orientation day, not long after the welcoming seminar, I was looking for the Xihe Block when someone ran into me on the path. She was another first-year, post-graduate, like almost everyone else. I was about to start apologising when I realised that she was already apologising to me, saying that it was her fault completely, she had been focused on the map on her PADD. And I realised that she was just as out of her element as I was, and much worse at hiding it. As it turned out, we were registered in the same accommodation block, so we combined forces. She was my first friend here. She could tell that I was far younger than her from that first meeting, but she didn't care- she treated me as an equal. And the first time someone bought my age up as a negative, she assisted in verbally eviscerating them. Enthusiastically. In Klingon."

Kirk suddenly laughed. "Wait, wait a minute- this friend- it was Uhura, wasn't it?"

"Of course it was," Valravn confirmed, smirking. "Who else would it be? She once told me that the reason she talked with me for so long that first day was because she wanted to listen to me speak. Apparently she'd never heard such a clear English accent before. Now," she nudged her shoulder against his, "you tell me something. Fair's fair."

"Alright, let me think…" Kirk leaned back, the fabric of his jeans shifting against her bare knee with the motion. She was only slightly surprised when he reached out and absently laced his fingers with hers, his thumb smoothing over the back of hers. Valravn hated that she suddenly remembered a snatch of conversation she had once heard about how very clever those hands were; the words had lingered in the back of her awareness for days afterwards, making her look away with a guilty blush every time he dextrously typed something into a PADD, or shiver when his fingers brushed against her. "Alright, I love twentieth-century vintage, you know that: cars, clothes, music, you name it. It's because of my dad. Whenever Frank was away, I used sneak up to the attic to look through my dad's old collection- that's how I go into it. When I left- I was about fourteen, funnily enough- I managed to take a lot of it with me. The vinyl records and the turntable were the first things I packed. I've still got it all in this storage shack in Iowa, near Storm Lake."

Valravn cocked her head at him curiously. "I never knew that. But… that's not the secret, is it?"

"No," Jim admitted. He paused, suddenly pensive. "When I was eleven, I totalled my dad's red Corvette convertible, retrofitted with a hydrogen engine."

Valravn was horrified. "A classic like that, and you wrecked it?!"

"Frank was going to sell it." Kirk said simply.

"Ah." She understood instantly; Kirk would have done anything to oppose his stepfather, and he would rather see his father's possessions destroyed than sold off by his replacement.

Her fingers tightened on his.

"Speaking of classic cars: last summer."

Jim's expression warmed, like the first break of light over the horizon at dawn. The previous summer had been a blur of freeways and narrow country lanes, sleepless metropolitan cities and forgotten glens, clear night skies studded with millions of stars, framed by the edges of the solar-panel sunroof of a converted sky-blue VW camper van. The road-trip had been an impulsive proposition by Kirk that Valravn had been unable to refuse- together, they had experienced the smelting heat and icy surf of the Golden Coast, ethereal waterfalls and free mountain climbing in South America, the icy tundra plains and forests of Canada, glancing over the cool elegance of Asian Buddhist temples, and the grand ancient cathedrals and citadels of Italy and France. Their route even veered onto Britannia and into England, where Valravn introduced Kirk to the blend of serene countryside, thousand-year old landmarks and sleek thriving cities of her homeland.

They had learned a lot about each other that summer, in the gaps between one sight and the next.

"Remember that song that came on the radio just as we were leaving the city limits that first night? With the windows rolled down and the sunroof open-?"

"Oh, yeah- Counting Stars. I drove you crazy playing it over and over the whole summer. I think you actually kind of liked it in the end."

"Yeah." She braced herself, and sacrificed her pride for the one person in the universe she trusted with it. "I, ah- I might- possibly- have been lying when I said that I hated it," she admitted, dreading his gleeful reaction.

Kirk bit his lip, visibly restraining a smirk. "What- you mean-? And- what about When I'm Gone-?"

"Yes," Valravn groaned out, knowing that she would almost certainly live to regret the confession, resting her forehead on his shoulder to hide the heat of a blush she could feel rising in her skin. "Yes, are you satisfied? They just- they make me happy. Reminds me of that summer."

Jim was valiantly attempting not to laugh.

"I used to pretend I was sick when I had a test in school."

Valravn rolled her eyes as she lifted her head. "Oh, we all did that. I was never ill- I don't think I've ever had so much as a cold. But my mother used to dote on me whenever she thought I was feeling even a little unwell. She would stay home from work the entire day just to look after me."

"That's sweet," Kirk murmured. His eyes suddenly sparked with humour, lifting their twined hands, shifting his grip to thumb over the ridges of each of her knuckles. "Sometimes I put chocolate milk on my cereal."

"I can play the piano."

Jim drew in a breath. "I am deathly afraid of jellyfish."

"… What?"

"They're basically ninety per cent water! They don't have brains, V! It's, it's weird."

Valravn stifled a laugh. "Noted. I, ah- I sort of like it when you randomly whistle snippets of classical music to announce your presence."

"Hm. I'm the one who left you those faux-alcoholic chocolates for your birthday a few weeks ago-"

"I know, you're not very subtle. Rain reminds me of England."

"I want to sleep with you."

Valravn felt something hot lance through her. Her blood effervesced like champagne, threatening all semblance of coherent thought.

"I- that's hardly a secret," she attempted, carefully removing her hand from his.

"That's not what I meant, V," Kirk said with a wry twist of his mouth, looking away. "I mean-" He sighed. "I'm sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable- just pretend that I never-"

"No, tell me."

He looked up at the sudden authoritative sharpness in her voice, and swallowed whatever change to the subject he had prepared.

"I- sex is sex. You know? Endorphins, serotonin, all that wonderful biochemical alchemy. But it would be different with you. It would never be just sex."

"How- how so?" Valravn forced out.

Kirk sighed. "Well, yeah, alright, part of it is about- I'm only human and that way inclined and, in my defence, you are so gorgeous that's it's unfair. But- with you it would be- I don't know. I've never slept with anyone that I've had a real, strong connection with- not like I have with you, anyway." He shrugged, still not looking at her. "I don't ever expect it to happen, obviously, and the last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable, so like I said, pretend I never said anything, but- I just think it would be… different. Good different, really good different."

Valravn was finding it hard to breathe. Why was it so hard to breathe?

"Well- that's, um-" She felt numb. She wanted to melt into the shadows and never emerge again. "It- aligns with my… previous… musings… ah…"

Kirk suddenly grinned brilliantly, turning to look at her. "Wait, what?"

Valravn realised what she had just said several seconds too late. "What?"

His smile grew. "You've fantasied about me?"

"No," Valravn replied quickly, stiffening indignantly. She knew she should stop talking because something about James Tiberius Kirk made her blood high and hot and want things that had only evoked apathy and disgust before, but it would different with him because it was him but he agreed with her and she couldn't stop herself talking. "Imagining is very different from fantasising." And I've done both. Extensively. "It was as an intellectual exercise. Practicing predicting the variables of a hypothetical situation I am unaccustomed to. I was taking it to its logical extreme."

"Was I good?" Jim asked, more genuinely curious than eager. "I mean- you know, was it- uh…"

"I- yes." Valravn was surprised that every stray flake of snow landing on her skin wasn't evaporating in a sizzling wisp of steam. "I would imagine- um- that you would be-" Talented. Attentive. Enthusiastic. Thorough. "Proficient. Given the- available evidence."

Jim hummed thoughtfully, low and husky.

Just as Valravn felt as though she was about to become physical proof that perfectly healthy humans could expire from excess stress attributed to embarrassment, she was rescued by the alarm on Kirk's watch.

"Sixty seconds until 2258," she announced at the delicate beep. "How shall we spend them?"

"They say that it's good luck to kiss on the New Year," Kirk said offhandedly.

When Valravn fixed him with a steely glare, he only laughed.

"You. Are. Awful," she said, injecting all of the vitriol she could muster into the four short syllables.

"Nah, you don't really think that." Jim leaned forwards, eyes glittering with silent laughter. "You love me," he said softly, adding a flirtatious wink for good measure.

Valravn disguised the flicker in her expression with a hitch of her eyebrow. He had no idea how close he was to the truth.

"I must. I haven't shoved you off this thing yet."

Kirk chucked again, glancing at his watch, and then at her mouth from beneath his lashes, a smirk curling his lips. Valravn had only seen that expression directed at her a handful of times- one that looked dangerously close to seduction- but it made her breath catch in her throat and her brain short out on every occasion

"Hm. Only thirty seconds left to convince you that we will both be cursed with horrible luck for the entirety of the year if we don't kiss at midnight. Any tips?"

"Ask me nicely," she blurted out without much thought, before cursing herself.

That does it- I am never drinking again. It disables my verbal filter.

"Valravn."

The use of her full name sent chills down her spine, his pronunciation soft and fluent and nearly breathy.

Valravn met his eyes.

He was leaning into her slightly, paused, searching her intently.

"Please?"

The air left her lungs, leaving her parted lips like smoke, and she felt herself nod.

His mouth covered hers just as the first traditional firework, signalling the New Year, screamed upwards and exploded in a shower of golden sparks, dissolving into a cloud of fine, glittering dust. He moved by careful degrees, leaving her free to pull away if she had wanted to, his lips warm and supple, fingers caressing the curve of her neck and his thumb at her chin.

It- wasn't bad. It wasn't bad at all. Valravn had never seen the appeal of kisses, but she had never been kissed like this before. It was- simple, strangely perfect- and Valravn wanted infinitely more with every instant that passed.

Through the haze, her only articulate thought was a warning: it's just a kiss. A superstition. It doesn't mean anything.

The way her lips were tingling, electrical shocks sparking throughout her entire body, begged to differ.

When Jim drew away, the midnight sky was full of cascades of vibrant colour, bursts of celebration erupting all over the city along with the lights in the sky.

"Happy New Year, Valravn Winter," Kirk breathed, his forehead resting against hers. His eyes were liquescent, the shade as warm as hers were cold.

Valravn brushed his lower lip with her fingertips.

She probably should have told him something. The timing was ideal.

"Happy New Year, James Kirk."

January 9, 2258 – Apollo Block, Starfleet Academy, San Francisco; California, Earth

He was in his room, halfway through relaying the events of his winter break to McCoy as the latter unpacked, when he said it.

"You really are in love with her, aren't you?"

Kirk swore he could feel his heart seize up briefly.

"I- what?"

"Don't even try and deny it." McCoy said irritably, his smirk belying his tone, tossing a stack of shirts into an open drawer. "You're acting like most of your temporal lobe was scooped out with a spoon, there's only one diagnosis. Fortunately for you, of all the people Raven is least likely to beat into mush you're top of the list, so I guess it could be worse."

Jim desperately tried to relocate his voice. "I- whoa, Bones, wait a second. What are you talking about?" He laughed incredulously. "I'm- I'm not in love with- why would you even say that?"

"Yeah, sure you're not," McCoy intoned with a roll of his eyes. "That's why when you stumble in late at night these days, usually it's because you were actually studying- not studying," he said, stressing the term to add a layer of euphemism not entirely undeserved.

"What, I can't be friends with someone?"

"You are friends. Doesn't mean you're not in love with her."

"You're being ridiculous!"

"Come on, Jim! Your sex life has gone from a disturbing reality to urban legend. Not to mention the way you look at her when she can't see you- and the fact that you barely acknowledge the fact that anyone but her exists for a few seconds after she walks in a room-"

"I do have some interests outside of getting laid, you know," Kirk said defensively. "And even you have to admit that Valravn is an addictive kind of person. You should see her when she gets into it over weapons engineering with-"

"And that's another thing," McCoy interrupted. "You talk about the girl constantly."

"Not- constantly," Jim protested, increasingly uncomfortable. "But, you know, considering everything that she is and does- it's not like I'm not the only one who thinks that she's incredible. Just ask the academy board." Kirk raised his eyebrows. "Unless you're going to tell me that they're in love with her too."

The doctor turned on him, mouth set in a grim line. "Jim. You beat up her ex-boyfriend."

"He deserved it," Jim said darkly.

"Of course he did, but that doesn't mean you weren't jealous. You nearly drove us all insane, going on about how you didn't know what she saw in him, how inconsiderate he was, how he tried to monopolise her time, how he didn't understand her and didn't even try to- and don't forget that I treated those injuries. That wasn't rearranging his face on behalf of a friend. That was attempting pulverise him into plomeek soup because you love the girl and he hurt her and that pissed you off."

Kirk said nothing. McCoy sighed, his voice lowering.

"Jim. Listen, I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I like Raven- what's not to like? She takes none of your rap and is the first to call you out when you're acting like a jackass."

Kirk had to chuckle slightly, supressing his rising sense of panic that McCoy honestly knew, that he wasn't guessing, and was confronting him aloud. He could no longer ignore it, not without being berated at every turn.

"It's obvious you think the world of that girl, and that just being around her makes you happy," McCoy continued unrelentingly. "There's no way I could ever call that a bad thing, even if I wanted to. Especially since, thanks to you, she's less inclined to cut your heart out with a rusty scalpel now if you piss her off- much more approachable."

Kirk collapsed at the foot of his bed, sinking into the mattress. "Bones. Just- stop. Stop, okay? Please."

"Why?" McCoy's eyes narrowed. "Because I'm right? Or because you're scared of admitting that you actually feel something and that you're terrified of screwing it up?"

Kirk looked up at his roommate- the irritable yet unfailingly loyal, principled doctor who he had met three years ago on a connecting shuttle flight to San Francisco, and his friend from the moment he had rattled off the various disasters that they could experience in space travel before casually offering Kirk a swig from a flask filled with shockingly good quality brandy.

"All of the above?" Kirk said softly.

McCoy seemed to deflate slightly. "Dammit, Jim…"

Kirk slumped back against his mattress, breaking apart like paper in water.

"You're right," he muttered in surrender. "It just- sort of happened. I love her. I'm in love her, I'm actually… I'm in love with her," he whispered, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, inhaling sharply. "Augh, I hate this- I just, I can't help it. It's ridiculous, stupid-! You know, everyone seems to think she's this- this ice sculpture or something. But Valravn's so real, she's human, and she feels everything so strongly that she just has to hold it back or it would be like an atomic bomb. And no one gets that she's insecure and flawed and yet determined to be better, harder, faster that she already is and that makes her so much stronger than any kind of combat skill and she's so, so brilliant, she's a goddamn supernova, and… and I love her. How could I not? I love her, Bones," Kirk repeated helplessly. Words were finally failing him; he didn't know how to explain how he felt- simultaneously scared and certain over a girl with a heart full of napalm and bones of steel and eyes that caught constellations.

"She's killing me."

Kirk heard his roommate abandon his unpacking, sitting next to him with a sigh, patting his shoulder. "Yeah. Yeah, I know."

Jim chuckled humourlessly, arms dropping to the mattress.

"I am so screwed."

"Yep."

"Well, gee, thanks, Bones," Kirk said sarcastically. "I just poured out my heart to you, the least you could do was lie or something. Your bedside manner seriously needs work."

"Yeah, so I hear," McCoy said dryly, rising from the bed. "But, for the record- everyone in Starfleet knows that Raven could keep a secret even under Klingon torture, and not just classified ones about her work for HQ. For all we know, she could- well. Feel the same. You never know with that girl. I'd never play a game of poker against her."

Jim bit out a bitter, cynical laugh. "Yeah. Right. Okay. Valravn Winter is in love with me, sure. Come on, Bones, seriously… what are the chances of that?"