Spock's eyebrows narrowed when the next picture was revealed; it was of Jim sitting in the captain's chair with McCoy, Scotty, Uhura, and himself standing around him. He flipped back to look at the last two pages before returning to the current one. "A photograph taken aboard the Enterprise during our second five year mission."
"Hm?" Jim asked, tugging on Spock's robes a little. "Why does that surprise you?"
"It does not."
"What about it, then?"
Spock nudged the side of his head against Jim's face and responded, "I will never understand the illogical method you employed to arrange our albums. None of these photographs are in chronological order, as one might expect."
A small laugh fell from Jim's lips. "If I had a credit for every time you questioned my logic... But it did get you thinking, right? About the picture..."
One eyebrow lifted in interest.
Jim's hands slipped off of the flat torso they held to and he leaned forward so that he could reposition them on Spock's own. His fingertips massaged the thinner digits beneath his in gentle back and forth strokes.
"If the pictures were added by date," he began, his voice warm and soft, "we wouldn't appreciate all of them as much because it'd be easy to skip over the ones taken around the same time. But having them all out of order is like a surprise on every page. It forces us to look at each one and really remember what we were doing then."
"Fascinating."
Jim smiled and it showed in his voice. "Still think I'm illogical?"
"Sometimes, you do succeed in redeeming yourself." There was a playfulness to Spock's tone that only a trained ear would be able to recognize, and Jim certainly did. "But that is to be expected. You are, after all, talented."
Focusing his attention back on the page before them, Spock continued, "The particular mission that had been completed hours before this photograph was taken was quite the display of your finesse at not only captaining the Enterprise but diplomacy."
"Oh, please," Jim replied, but Spock could detect a hint of pride in his voice. "I'd be to first to admit what a brutal mission that was, but not really because of all the intense negotiation. That's just part of the job. You remember that, though? I think it was, what... three days I went without seeing you?"
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Spock was fully expecting to find Jim asleep when he entered their shared quarters. It was only sensible to assume, considering the last few rough days he had endured.
Jim and a strategically chosen team of crew members had just wrapped up three long days of intense negotiations with the divided people of Visukah, deep into the west Alpha quadrant. While they successfully averted the crisis of civil war on the planet, the monumental challenge to achieve that victory had left everyone involved utterly exhausted.
It was obvious that peace treaties were better left to the responsibility of ambassadors, but the Enterprise was the closest to respond to the emergency situation of imminent war on a planet rich in Dilithium–an obvious asset to the Federation in this part of the quadrant. It was nothing short of a miracle that the treaty between the two opposing forces was signed, with lack of sleep and lingering tension in the air constantly threatening to set the bridge to peace fatally ablaze.
Though it was an ill-equipped crew sent to respond to the quickly mounting crisis (even their confidence had been shaken… the thought of such high stake negotiations being done without an ambassador present was a ludicrous notion), Starfleet had decided that sending in their own veteran "superhero" would yield better odds than the risk of waiting for the proper personnel to complete their voyage. After all, every second that slipped by was one step closer to losing a pivotal resource in this sector.
If there was a way, a man who would never accept defeat would find it. And James Kirk did. When the ambassador finally arrived, her work could be likened to child's play compared to the massive opposition Jim and his crew had faced in getting that treaty signed.
Now cruising comfortably at warp five, they were headed to their next assignment as issued by Starfleet. It would take nearly three days to arrive at the planet, Ulmae III, which would be the focus of their new observation mission. The transit time would provide a more than ample recuperation period for the heavily fatigued crew members who had been enslaved to that discussion table for seventy five hours.
Unfortunately, though, this resting time would intersect with the winding down of another project that was finally granting Spock free time again, which had been a rare luxury as of late…
He stood in the sleeping alcove, his dark eyes upon his bondmate with one brow raised.
As Spock predicted, Jim was fast asleep. However, it was the way in which he found his peace that the Vulcan found intriguing. He had stripped, flopped himself on his side in the double bed, and pulled the cover halfway over his body. A black undershirt was cuddled securely in his arms–a black undershirt that belonged to Spock, and was apparently filling in for his absence.
Spock quietly stepped up to the side of the bed and sat himself down on the edge. He turned at an angle so he could easily see Jim's placid face and studied the wrinkles that had creased his skin.
Years had passed–nearly two decades, in fact–and yet, time had been kind to Jim. Though he'd aged and his entire body transformed, he retained the handsome qualities and charm of his youth. Jim was just as pleasing to look at now as he was when he had first taken command of the Enterprise. Not all could be fortunate enough to say the same for themselves.
How kind the universe had been to Spock to have given him someone so beautiful both inwardly and out... someone who understood that he couldn't always have all of Spock's attentions and was willing to wait until duty to their service was fulfilled... one who never complained that he wasn't first on the list when he damn well should be and would be if he were with anyone else.
Spock reached out with his fingertips and gently brushed aside one stray lock of graying hair from his bondmate's forehead before he whispered, "Forgive me, Jim."
Though they were both on the same starship and even shared the same shifts, there hadn't been much time for them both to spend together in the last week and a half.
Ship nights of chess, deep conversations, and other more preferable activities had transformed into downtime Jim spent alone or in the company of McCoy and a casual bottle of Saurian brandy. Spock had been buried deeply as the point person in a high priority warp core rebalancing project which required cross efforts from the science and engineering teams. And while Jim hadn't uttered one word in complaint, Spock knew very well that he missed their time together because he, himself, did.
But tonight was different. Tonight, he could finally break away from his work. The emergency negotiation had both given time and stolen it from him. Three days without interruption allowed Spock to finish his major contributions to finalizing the calculations that would increase core efficiency and allow the project to wind down. However, it was also those three days that had exhausted Jim and stolen what would have been valuable alone time. The two of them both knew they needed it.
Spock's fingers gently stroked through Jim's hair once more. Kaiidth. Just being close to him would do. He laid down and shifted himself so he was right up against Jim, the black shirt within the human's arms between them. Leaning his face forward, Spock allowed his forehead to touch Jim's and cupped the warm human cheek with his hand.
He didn't intend to fall asleep like this, fully clothed on top of the covers, but finally being within such close proximity to Jim had soothed him, lulling him into a deep state of rest.
They slept, Spock's hand never slipping away from where it was placed.
Some hours later, Jim's eyelashes slowly parted to the sight of a handsome Vulcan face pressed against his own. He blinked several times in rapid succession to make sure it wasn't a dream before a soft smile spread across his face. Jim's arm left the shirt he hugged and slipped it over Spock, nuzzling his forehead gently.
Chocolate brown eyes opened slowly to meet their hazel counterparts and the two simply stared into each other's gaze before Jim whispered with a smile, "What took you so long?"
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"Actually, it was, precisely, seventy seven hours, forty two minutes, and nineteen seconds," Spock replied.
"...Seventy seven hours... forty two minutes, and nineteen seconds?"
"I do endeavor to be accurate, Jim."
Jim laughed softly. "Tell me something I don't know. Damn. You know, thinking about that mission... You should've been there when we were discussing the peace terms. They fought with us on every line. Bones was so stressed that I thought for sure he'd have an aneurism. It all ended well, though."
"Perhaps you should consider an ambassadorial role," Spock offered.
"Listen here, Mister Spock. One ambassador in this relationship is enough. We'd never see each other and I sure wouldn't like that. And, with that said, I'd like to keep seeing more now."
Jim's right hand slipped off of Spock's and he turned to the next page.