A/N: I went all summer without updating a single chapter… *hides* But I have a very strict writing schedule now, and I think things will be going…a bit…smoother…from now on. I hope. *scared face*
THE EXPENSE OF SPIRIT
Chapter 3: Mine Eye and Heart Are at a Mortal War
Spock had believed that after apologizing and explaining so profusely to Nyota the night before, she would accept his reasons and let him be. She would have done so, had she not been so very Human, or so very female. Females of nearly ever species were this way, Spock knew, but Human females were notorious for ruminating on their problems far longer than was necessary, even when said problems had already been resolved. All of this passed through Spock's mind in the three-point-four-two seconds it took for Nyota to sit down next to him at breakfast.
"Good morning, Spock," she said, and he could hear a trace of nervousness in her voice. He didn't reply, but waited for her to continue. "I am so sorry about last night. Please believe me when I say I never would have tried anything if I'd know how you really felt about all this."
Spock felt someone watching him. He looked up from his teacup and straight across the room into Jim's eyes.
She must never know.
Nyota had stopped speaking and was evidently waiting for him to reply. He steeled himself, locking his muscles and freezing his expression. Although the teachings of Surak looked down upon bearing falsehoods, Spock had always been interested in the fact that those same teachings gave Vulcans the very tools they would need to become expert liars.
"I know you are sorry," Spock said. "I apologize as well, for any pain I may have caused you. Please know that was not my intention."
"I understand. We won't do anything of the sort until you're comfortable with it." She kissed him on the cheek and stood up to get some food. Spock watched her idly and then looked back to where Jim was sitting. The Human was still looking at him. A brief memory of their night together flashed across Spock's mind and, for less than half a second, he could feel the echoes of Jim's touch against his skin. He looked quickly away from Jim's gaze, suddenly, irrationally worried that Jim could read the memory in his eyes.
After several minutes, the rest of the Enterprise bridge crew had come down to breakfast. Jim was corralling them all around his table. Spock watched them closely. It could be that Jim just wanted their company. If that was the case, Spock would not inflict his presence upon them. His cool persona only mixed well with Human frivolity under the best of circumstances, and these were not the best of circumstances.
Spock could feel something stirring in the back of his mind, a rolling boil of emotions just out of sight, half an instant from spilling over. He had been alternating between ignoring and trying to stifle these emotions for the last twenty-nine hours, and had no desire to spend any more time in Jim Kirk's presence than he could help. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up forever. Like the pressure building up inside the volcanic Mount Tar'Hana, Spock knew that he wouldn't be able to hold his emotions at bay much longer. There would come a time when Spock would either have to eradicate or face how he truly felt about what had happened that night, but he didn't know when that would be. He hoped –yes, hoped—that time wouldn't come until he'd had the chance to distance himself from his feelings about that night.
The memory of Jim's body against his was still so fresh, so vivid, and Jim's pleas still echoed in his mind. "Spock, can I? I just…need." Need what? "Need release"? "Need you"? Spock clenched his teeth in frustration. What had Jim meant by "I need"? Spock knew what he wanted the answer to be, but there was no way of knowing without asking Jim outright, and that was something he would never do. If Jim had cared, he would have brought it up by now, it was not his way to neglect a problem that needed solving. Obviously Spock had just been a means to and end, and now that Jim was feeling better he saw no purpose for revisiting the incident.
Spock took a sip of tea, his eyes surveying the room over the rim of his cup. Jim was watching him again. When their eyes met, Jim smiled and beckoned to Spock.
"Come over here, Spock," he said, not bothering to raise his voice. Spock could hear him perfectly over the babble of voices in the cafeteria, but whether that was because of his Vulcan genes or because he was so attuned to the sound of Jim's voice he didn't want to think. Slowly, Spock stood up and crossed the room to join the others at their table. He did not sit down – there were no vacant chairs anyway – but stood at the opposite end of the table from where Jim was sitting.
"I got an email from Admiral Pike this morning," Jim was saying. "He didn't send it to only us, but I wanted to run it by you anyway. He's asking for a team to go to Delta Vega and repair the outpost there." Kirk glanced at Scotty, who was scowling at his plate of eggs and sausage. Kirk smiled a bit as he went on. "I know we've only been on leave for a couple days, but I would feel a lot better to be working rather than sitting around."
Spock looked around at the others, gauging their reactions to Kirk's pronouncement. Uhura was staring into the mug of coffee in her hands and probably didn't care whether or not they went, but she hadn't beamed down to Sirius III. She had stayed on the Enterprise, trying without success to contact Starfleet for reinforcements. Sulu, Chekov, and Scotty had been part of the original landing party, but they had been beamed back before the massacre had begun. Of the three of them, only Scotty looked displeased by the news, but Spock was certain this was more because of where they would be going than the fact that he wanted shore leave. Of all four-hundred-thirty-two people aboard the Enterprise, only Scotty had refused shore leave as often as Spock. Nurse Chapel looked the most interested in the idea, but Spock couldn't help noticing that her eyes kept flickering in his direction and was certain her answer would depend largely upon his.
"But it's not just up to me," Kirk continued, "so I'm going to put it to a vote. All in favor of going to Delta Vega?" Sulu and Chekov put up their hands almost immediately, followed by Uhura. Jim looked across the table at Spock. Spock looked back at him, still undecided about going. It would be nearly impossible to distance himself from Jim on Delta Vega, but voting against the Captain might raise suspicion, and Spock was nowhere near ready to confront him about what had happened. Also, Spock reasoned, using his free time to work instead of relaxing was highly logical. After several seconds of silently staring into Jim's eyes, Spock raised his hand in affirmation. Jim's face split into an overwhelmingly dazzling smile, and Spock looked away, noticing that Nurse Chapel had waited until his vote to raise her own hand.
"Sorry, Scotty," Jim said, turning to the disgruntled engineer. "I know you're not keen on going back there, but…" he trailed off. Spock looked up from studying the tabletop. "'But' what? Jim, you need to stop speaking in unfinished sentences. I must know…! "But there's work to be done"? "But I'm tired of being on this Starbase"? "But I need to go back to the place where—" Spock had almost forgotten "—where I met the first Spock and discovered my destiny"? Spock found himself holding his breath as this crossed his mind. On Delta Vega, Jim had met Spock's elder counterpart. He had never confided the details of this meeting to Spock, and until now Spock had managed to put it from his mind. But now they were going back to Delta Vega.
"Something on your mind, Spock?"
Spock looked up. Jim had walked around the table and was standing at his elbow. He was wearing the gold command shirt - he must have anticipated a good reception to his proposition – and the gold made his eyes stand out a vivid turquoise. Spock could feel the warmth of the Human's breath on his face, such was their closeness. Spock took an automatic step back.
"Delta Vega," he said simply.
"Yeah…" Jim said. "I'm sure you of all people understand why I need to go back there." Jim's smile was sad, and Spock took another step back against the urge to smother Jim's sadness with a kiss.
"I do understand," he said. "I will admit, I am curious as to where, and how, you encountered my older self."
And how, how he persuaded you to keep his secret.
"I'll take you there, if we ever get the time," Jim said. "From what Scotty's told me, the outpost is in pretty bad shape. But if we get time, we'll go."
Spock stared into the unspoken promise in Jim's eyes and felt something inside himself unwind. After spending all day trying to ignore the Human standing before him, Spock was at last able to breathe freely. It was as though Jim was oxygen, as though he was breathing life into Spock merely by existing, as though Spock had never needed anyone as much as he needed James Kirk, and he would not survive without him.
Jim was smiling now. "What?" he asked playfully. "Do I have food in my teeth?" He grinned broadly, displaying two rows of perfectly white, food-less teeth.
Spock nearly smiled in spite of himself.
"No, Jim, there is nothing wrong with your teeth."
"Oh, good," said Jim, miming a toss of his hair. "For a moment there I thought my beauty queen reputation was at stake."
Spock quirked an eyebrow, but did not dignify Jim's behavior with a response.
"Come on, Spock," Kirk said, giving him a slap on the shoulder. Spock's skin burned at the contact. "The shuttle leaves at 1100, we'd better get packed and whatnot."
As they exited the cafeteria, they passed Scotty ordering a single-malt from the replicator. Kirk nudged him and said, "Be sure to bring along some sandwiches." The pair of them grinned conspiratorially, but Spock had no idea what they were talking about.
"I won't need to," Scotty said with a laugh. "Admiral Pike sent me the email as well. Supposed to install and program a replicator in the outpost. 'S about bloody time." As they walked on, Kirk couldn't seem to stop smiling.
"You look…unusually cheerful, Captain."
"Just remembering stuff."
Jim's answer had been deliberately vague; he was obviously waiting for Spock to take the bait. Spock was silent for a few minutes, his mind split between wondering what Jim was remembering and trying to keep himself from asking the question. Before long, though, his curiosity won out.
"If I may ask, what is it about your memories that makes you so happy?"
"Just something Scotty said when I first met him. Spock – old Spock – and I had just told him he was from the future, and all he had to say about it was, 'Are there still sandwiches there?'"
Spock nodded. "Yes, Mr. Scott does have a fondness for sandwiches."
They rounded the corner and saw Nurse Chapel waiting for the turbolift at the other end of the hall. As they neared her, Spock crossed behind the Captain as though physical space could distance him from the Human woman's irrational affection. As they descended in the lift, Chapel volunteered to come help Spock pack. He shook her off at his door, telling her that he was already nearly packed, and to possibly assist Nyota instead. At this, Chapel's face lit up and she whispered, "Oh yeah…!" before rushing down the hall to Uhura's room. She was so excited she even forgot to say goodbye to Spock.
Christine skidded to a halt outside Nyota's door, pressing the buzzer impatiently. She could faintly hear music playing inside. It sounded a bit like Beethoven, but Christine had never heard it before. The door slid open.
"Oh, good, it's just you," Nyota said as Christine entered the rom. She was folding her clothes back into her small suitcase. Her dressing gown, Christine knew, had been handmade in Tanzania and no clothes replicator in the galaxy could recreate it. Nyota turned down the volume on the computer's sound system as Christine surveyed the room.
"What music was that?" she asked.
"Mnenkha. She's Romulan," Nyota said curtly.
"It's beautiful," Christine said. Nyota didn't reply. "So…how'd it go last night?" she asked.
"It didn't," Nyota replied coolly.
"Come again?"
"It didn't go. As in, nothing happened."
"Why not? I mean-wow, it's really none of my business, I should shut up."
Nyota shrugged. "He 'wasn't ready'." She tossed a dress across the room into the recycling chute. "How could I be so stupid? I honestly believed him when he used to tell me he was too preoccupied with work. But I guess even Vulcans can make excuses." She fell silent, walking restlessly around the room, picking up jewelry and a single shoe.
"That sucks," Christine said, crossing the room to help Nyota fold clothes.
"Mm hmm." Nyota's lips were pressed together in a thin line. "And there's no chance of it happening on Delta Vega either, not with all the work that we'll be doing there."
Christine nodded sympathetically. "Maybe after Delta Vega, when we go to New Vulcan, he'll be more comfortable with it, if it's a more familiar atmosphere."
Nyota shrugged again. "If only there was some way I could persuade him, some way to change his mind… But he's so damn stoic all the time—" She broke off, her eyes narrowing.
Because Spock wasn't stoic all the time, not one hundred percent. There was only one person who had managed to get any reaction out of Spock, and that person was not Nyota Uhura.
It was James T. Kirk.
Nyota had often watched them together on the bridge, and over the last two years had realized that together the two of them, Kirk and Spock that is, were like corresponding pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Even when they'd only known each other for less than twenty-four hours, they'd already been finishing each other's sentences, and by the time six months had passed they hardly had to speak at all. Merely a look, a nod, a name spoken in a whisper, and all was understood. Spock had even nearly killed Kirk once, all because Kirk had understood so perfectly how to get under Spock's Vulcan skin.
Nyota should have realized then what it meant, but she didn't. She saw it now, though. No matter what did or didn't happen between her and Spock, she would never have all of him. No matter how much work either of them put into their relationship, it would always be easier, more natural, for Spock to be with Kirk.
"Nyota, you're bleeding."
Nyota blinked and looked down at her hands. Her fingers were wrapped so tightly around one of her medallion necklaces that the metal was cutting into her fingers. A thin trickle of blood was running down her fingers.
"Dammit," she muttered.
Christine scurried across to the bathroom to find some medi-spray. She squirted it onto Nyota's palm and dusted off the drying blood.
"Thanks," said Nyota dryly. She pressed a button on the wall and a mini vacuum-bot zoomed out of the wall to clean the floor. As she watched it zipping back and forth, Nyota had to fight the urge to stomp on it.
Half an hour later, the Enterprise bridge crew – plus Nurse Chapel – were seated comfortably in their first-class personal transport shuttle. As Sulu piloted them out of the hangar deck, Kirk leaned forward eagerly, pressing his nose against the window. Spock watched from across the shuttle. Kirk's back was so straight it was almost arching backwards, his shoulders pulling up in excitement. He was practically glowing.
Spock was unaware of the tension in his body until he felt it leave, every muscle in his body loosening as he watched Jim's unbridled happiness. For a moment he thought he saw Jim's eyes slide in his direction, but he couldn't be sure. He was nearly certain Jim had been disappointed when Spock chose a seat on the other end of the shuttle, but Spock knew it was best to keep his distance.
"Going to warp in three, two, one…" Sulu said as the ship jumped smoothly into warp space. Kirk watched the stars until they vanished, replaced by the rippling blur of a warp field. He leaned back I his chair, swiveling away from the window.
"Anyone for a drink?" he asked, standing up and walking towards the back of the shuttle where a replicator was installed. He scanned the card register – crackers, soft drinks, a few sweets. "There's not much on here, as it's only a short flight, but who wants some?"
Spock watched Kirk passing out drinks to his crew, and he could feel his expression softening. He knew that none of the Humans would notice his almost-smile, the way his gaze slid over Kirk's body with a languor that was almost possessive. After the confusion of the last few days, Spock could only be certain of one thing: he was never going to leave Jim's side.
Jim did not care about their brief encounter, that much was obvious now, and Spock was never going to tell him. To do so would jeopardize Jim's friendship with him, and nothing, nothing was worth that risk. Jim would most likely be fine without him, Spock knew, but there was no way he would survive without James Kirk. He had not known the ties of friendship could run so deep, and Spock would sacrifice anything to keep Jim in his life, including his own longing for anything more.
As was his wont, Jim turned suddenly around to face Spock, his cerulean eyes smiling down at the Vulcan's still figure.
"Thirsty, Spock?" he asked, his voice so low that only Spock could hear it.
Spock stared back at him, not bothering to conceal the thoughts in his eyes, knowing the Human wouldn't recognize them, daring him to do so in spite of his fears.
Jim just smiled, waiting for Spock's answer.
"No thank you, I am not thirsty," Spock said. Jim raised his eyebrows and slid a card into the replicator. When it dinged, he held the glass of water out to Spock.
Spock looked at it, trying to quell the irrational Human recklessness fighting its way out of him. He failed.
He put up his hand for the glass, wrapping his long fingers around it, resting his hand over Jim's. Such casual contact was common among Humans, and Jim would think nothing of this save that Spock was at last becoming more comfortable with his Human cohorts. And Jim just kept smiling as he slid his hand from beneath Spock's, the backs of his fingernails grazing the pads of Spock's fingers. Spock snapped his jaw shut, clenching his teeth and holding his breath against the ripple of want making its way up his spine. For half a second he held completely still. Then he forced a smile into his eyes and nodded his thanks.
That must not happen again, Spock told himself as Jim made his way back to his seat at the front of the shuttle. He flexed his fingers experimentally, trying to will the tingling out of them, the green flush on his palm to fade. When it did not, he curled his hand into a fist, holding it as tightly as he could for a solid minute. He observed, as though detached from his body, how the pain of his fingernails digging into his flesh dulled the nerves in his hand to any other sensation, and logged this information away for future use. Then he opened his hand, studying the line of dark-green half-moons across his palm.
If pain was what it took to rid his body of its ridiculous longing to possess that of the Human James Kirk, then so be it.
The shuttle carrying the supplies and tools they would need to repair the outpost had not arrived by that evening, and a few of the crewmembers were complaining about having to go to bed hungry. Mr. Scott stood with Sulu in the corner, sharing his whisky and casting dark looks around the room, obviously looking for Kirk. The small dark alien named Keenzer stood at Scotty's elbow, and the Scotsman was pretending to ignore him, but his elbow kept brushing the alien's shoulder.
Spock was standing in an opposite corner, observing silently as the crew explored the station. Jim was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared shortly after they entered the outpost, and no one had seen him since. Spock repressed a shiver and pushed his hands farther into the pockets of his coat. The only fully functioning heater in the entire station was in the lavatory. Nurse Chapel had found a stash of coats in a closet and passed them out to each crewmember shortly after arriving, but the air inside the outpost was still several degrees below anything they were used to.
"Hey, Spock, c'mere a sec," Kirk's voice echoed from around the corner. Spock followed his voice down a hall and into the first of two doors on the right hand side.
It was a bedroom, Spock realized, then corrected himself. Sleeping quarters would have been a more apt description. The room was, in a word, Spartan. The floor was the same concrete as the rest of the outpost, the walls the same reinforced insulated steel. As with the rest of the structure, there were no windows. The weather on Delta Vega was too cold – not to mention too extreme – to allow for even the smallest lack of insulation. There were three metal-frame cots along one wall. Only one of these had been recently used. A small knot of blankets at the head showed that this was where Keenzer had been sleeping. A door on the opposite wall stood ajar, revealing a linen cupboard full of shelves, each stacked with several thick blankets. Spock had known the outpost was old, but these primitive conditions were suggestive of late 21st century design, and had probably not been updated since then.
Kirk was nowhere to be seen.
"Captain?"
"Hey, Spock," Kirk said, coming out of a door behind which Spock had assumed was another closet. "As you can see, we've got a bit of a problem. How are all five of us going to fit on three beds?"
Spock stepped back automatically as Kirk approached, running his fingers across the palms of his hand. He couldn't feel the indents from his fingernails anymore.
"What is behind that door?" he asked, nodding towards the door through which Kirk had come.
"The bathroom and the girls' room. Well, I assume it's the girls' room. If we're in here, then yeah." Kirk was heading back towards the bathroom door. Spock followed at a distance.
The bathroom was small. There was a water shower with what looked like a sonic dryer-system installed. Spock followed Kirk through another door and into the other bedroom, which was laid out exactly like the first.
"I believe," said Spock, edging into the room behind Jim, "that we should move one of the beds from this room into the other. Nurse Chapel and Lieutenant Uhura do not need more than one bed apiece."
"Yeah," said Kirk, walking over to the row of cots. Spock looked at the floor, his hand curled into fists, forcing himself not to acknowledge the fact that he and Kirk were alone, in a bedroom, quite separated from the rest of the crew – and the way Kirk's coat hung just so on his shoulders, just a touch away from sliding to the floor—
"Spock."
Spock looked up, uncurling his fists and running his fingers over his smarting palms.
"My apologies, Captain," he said, crossing the room to help Kirk carry a cot. They shuffled through the bathroom and out into the first bedroom, then lined the cot up with the others and stepped back.
"We'll leave this one for Keenzer," Kirk said, nudging the used cot with his toe. "Then the five of us can squish onto these three."
As hard as Spock tried, he could not stop the flash burn that rippled over his skin at the thought of sharing a bed with Kirk.
"What do you think, Spock?" Kirk said, flopping down onto one of the cots. "Could five people fit comfortably onto three beds?"
"With one and a half persons to a bed," Spock said, "Yes, I believe so."
"Let's see," Kirk said with a grin, scooting over and patting the bed next to him. Spock refused to move, unwilling to compromise himself any further. He ran his fingertips across his palms again. "Spock, I need your help," Jim said, his voice a bit softer this time, but he was still grinning.
Almost against his will, hating himself for his subservience, Spock dragged himself across the room toward the bed where Jim lay. He held his breath has he knelt on the foot of the bed and crawled forward to lie next to Jim. He could hear his heartbeat fluttering in the stillness, and Jim's heartbeat as well, almost as fast as his own. He forced himself to ignore that. There would be plenty of time to analyze Jim's behavior later, when everyone else was asleep, Spock told himself. He squeezed himself onto the same cot as Jim, taking extra care to not touch any of the Human's skin with his own.
"Yep," said Jim after a moment's silence, "looks like we'll all fit just fine."
Spock climbed off the cot as quickly as he could.
"Jeez, Spock, where's the fire?" Jim asked as he heaved himself off the groaning mattress. Spock merely raised an eyebrow at him, not trusting himself to speak. Jim waggled his eyebrows. Spock looked away.
"Captain?" Uhura's voice sounded from down the hall.
"In here!" Kirk called, not moving from where he stood by the bed. Across the room, Spock was still staring at the floor.
"There's a—" Uhura trailed off as she entered the room, her eyes quickly taking in Kirk, the bed, and Spock standing as far away as he could. Her stomach dropped a few inches, but she had come to deliver a message and her duties as Communications officer came before anything else. She cleared her throat and started over. "Captain, there's a message from Admiral Pike for you on the computer."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Kirk said, back in Captain mode now. He strode out of the room. Uhura took a few tentative steps toward Spock, who finally looked up from the floor now that the Captain was gone.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
Spock nodded once. "I am fine," he said.
Uhura muttered under her breath, " 'Fine has variable definitions, fine is unacceptable.' " Spock closed the distance between them in three strides.
"I am fine," he said softly, placing a hand on the side of her face.
"If you need anything, you'll tell me, right?" she asked in a small voice.
"Of course," Spock said.
Uhura smiled. "I'm starving. I know there's something to eat around here. Let's see what we can find." And she led the way from the room, her brown hair swishing behind her as she walked.
Things were a bit difficult that evening, trying to get everyone situated in order to sleep. Kirk had explained about the bed situation, much to the delight of Nurse Chapel and Uhura. Keenzer looked pleased as well, though it was hard to tell with the small alien. Scotty seemed utterly unaffected by the announcement, merely sighing with the same expression of longsuffering he'd been wearing since they arrived. Spock tried very hard to ignore the high pink spots in Chekov's cheeks, and settled for looking at a spot on the wall over Kirk's head.
"Now, before you all head off to your various sleeping spaces," Kirk said, "I have one more thing to say: Admiral Pike contacted me and told me the supplies we'll need left Starbase 1 yesterday, and will be here sometime tomorrow. I suggest we all get a good night's rest—" Spock couldn't resist raising one eyebrow "—so we're fresh tomorrow."
As it turned out, the male crewmembers were very particular about where they slept. Chekov seemed to be permanently attached to Sulu's left elbow (although no one seemed to have noticed), and Scotty insisted on sleeping in the middle of the group so he didn't "freeze his goddamned arse off in this bloody icebox." In the end, it was decided that Sulu would sleep on one end next to Chekov, with Scotty in the middle, then Kirk and Spock on the other end.
Knowing full well how dangerous it would be to have less than enough breathing space, Spock had taken Kirk aside a few minutes earlier and requested a space on the end, citing his need for less sleep than Humans and the fact that he'd probably be retiring and rising while they were all sleeping. Now he saw Jim running a hand over the back of his neck as he orchestrated the sleeping arrangements and nearly smirked in spite of himself, remembering how goose bumps had erupted along the Human's skin when Spock had whispered low in his ear.
Spock waited until everyone else was lying down before pulling his own blanket off the shelf and lying down next to Kirk. He held as still as he could and set about preparing himself for what was sure to be the longest night of his life.
END CHAPTER 3
A/N: I know, plotty chapter is plotty. Chapter 4 will be better, I promise! Now I had better go do some homework... For some reason my brain thinks it's Friday even thought it's only Wednesday...
