Spock let the towering stalks brush against his skin. It was calming, here in the middle of nowhere. There were no worries, no expectations, no yesterdays or tomorrows. It was just Spock, on his back, surrounded by the gently flowing stalks. Somewhere nearby, he could hear another person. They sounded like they were splashing about and having a merry time. It seemed like a nice idea and if he had the energy to move, Spock would have swum to them. As it was, he was content to watch the bend and sway.

Far, far above him, whales swum. The moved with a beauty and ease which belied their gigantic size. Young calves separated from their mothers and played, forming a creche. They swam lower and lower until Spock could almost reach out and touch them.

From somewhere deep inside, they sung. Their song filled all the space around them. It entered Spock's ears, mouth, eyes, nose. The music replaced his blood, his muscles and bone. He was whale song covered in skin.

Jim floated over. His hair flared like a halo, the sunlight filtering through to hit it just right. He was beautiful. Lips twitched into a wry smile, eyes laughing. If Spock was still a man, he would have leaned up and kissed him. Jim drew closer, a single tanned hand reaching out and catching Spock's own. Between them something flared, something long forgotten but powerful and warm.

Spock closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, he was looking at the ceiling of his apartment. He glanced down at the blonde head resting atop his chest. Waking from one of Jim's dreams was always something to get used to. Normally, Spock realised when he was inside one. Tonight had been a rare exception. The dream itself had been unusual, even for James Kirk. They were not usually so peaceful.

Spock placed a soft kiss against the crown of Jim's head. Through their bond, Spock could feel him waking. It was a still a little early, his innate time sense telling him it was only 4:32am. However, time spent with Jim in the morning made the rest of his day more pleasant. It was an illogical concept, yet Spock was half Human. He could be illogical, every once in a while.

"G'mornin'" Jim murmured into Spock's chest. Spock could feel the last remnants of their dream fading from Jim's fuzzy mind. The lips he loved so much, as much as any and every part of James t. Kirk, pressed harder into his skin. It was as if Jim was attempting to stamp a goofy morning smile there permanently.

The hands gripping his own tightened as he hummed his response.

Spock extracted his hands from Jim's. He ran them up and down his mate's back, feeling the golden skin against his own. There was truly nothing better than waking up with Jim in his arms. Morning Jim, he'd been quick to learn, was super affectionate. Like a tamed sehlat, without the fur, four inch fangs, claws or snuffly breathing.

In one smooth motion, Spock flipped them over. He enjoyed the feel of Jim's body beneath him. The way Jim's arms would wrap around his neck. The way his breathing came in short bursts. The spread of lust through their bond. The way Jim opened his thighs, letting Spock sink into his embrace. The hard erection which slid against his own. The delicate arch of his back. A breathless moan. The stuttered call of Spock's name. It was more than Spock had ever allowed himself to dream of.

Bypassing Jim's lips, Spock pressed open mouthed kisses along the line of his jaw. Ever so slowly, he made his way down Jim's neck. Just kissing, never marking. Not where it could be seen when in his uniform. Although their relationship was not technically against the rules, it was heavily discouraged. The later risk of emotional compromise was what worried Spock. As a Vulcan, he was very possessive of his mate. He would protect Jim with his life. Jim was his everything. Could he watch his ashayam go into deadly situations, not knowing whether he would come back alive? Yes. Would he like it? No. Did the admiralty understand this? Not at all. It was better to hide it, for now. Everyone who needed to know, Captain Pike and Admiral Archer, were aware of their situation.

"Spock?" Jim stroked his cheek and tilted his face until their eyes caught. His Jim was breath taking. Instead of answering, he sent his love and affection through their bond and smiled at the answered delight. His mate was more than precious.

Picking up where he left off, Spock pressed kiss after kiss onto Jim's chest. He worked his way down methodically, making sure to leave no inch of space untouched. One he reached Jim's hips, he changed pace a little. A while ago he'd walked in on Jim in the bathroom, poking at the bruises on his hips. His mate liked being marked. Jim liked having physical reminders. Especially the hidden ones he could admire alone.

Spock bit down on one perfect hipbone. He laved the spot with his tongue to the sound of Jim's moans. If he looked up, he knew he'd see lust darken blue eyes watching him intently, blonde hair still messed from sleep.

He moved over to the other and sucked a trail of marks. He leaned back to survey his work and noticed the similarity between the shape and something else. It was quick work for Spock to finish writing out the word. Finished, it spread from Jim's right hip to his left, a little slanted in places but still clearly legible to anyone who read ancient Golic. It proclaimed Jim as one half of Spock's own soul. The most revered of Vulcan bondmates. A friend, brother and lover. T'hy'la.

Just looking at the marking made Spock want to sink into Jim's body and never leave. Apparently, it did similar things to Jim.

Long legs wrapped around Spock's waist as he was forcefully dragged back up to Jim's face. His pretty mate attacked his mouth, the cutest noises falling from such perfect lips. Spock let him have his way. It wasn't often Jim wanted to take a more dominant role.

Hence Spock's slight confusion when he found himself back on his back and Jim grinning above him. His confusion lasted a second but it was long enough for Jim to take his hands, entwine their fingers and lower himself onto Spock's erection. He was surrounded by slick, wet heat. Jim tightened his grip and pulled himself up before letting gravity take his all the way back down. The pace was maddeningly slow. Still, Spock followed Jim's silent command not to move. Watching his mate ride him was much, much sexier than anything he'd ever seen before. And when Jim slid down his length, tortuously slow and brushed his prostate and let out a silent scream? Best moment so far.

When Jim finally let go of his hands and braced himself against his chest, Spock didn't waste a second. He gripped Jim's his and pulled him up. He dropped him back down, hips arching up to thrust into Jim's oh so very tight entrance. Jim hungrily accepted his body, back bowed, head thrown back with a litany of Spock's name flowing from his lips.

Again and again, Spock drove himself into Jim. Words, a mix of Vulcan and Standard falling from his own lips. Complimenting his mate, confessing his love, adoration, devotion. Their rhythm was still achingly slow. Yet just enough to set the pool of pleasure simmering.

One hand detached itself from Jim's side and stroked at his temple. Their bond widened, thoughts and emotions fizzing between them. Finally, Spock connected them fully. The bond sung as Jim release over his chest, the tightening of his velvet walls milking every last drop from Spock.

Jim fell sideways and collapsed to Spock's left. He huddled closer, nuzzling affectionately into Spock's neck.

"I believe it would be best we shower and get ready for the day, Jim." Spock finally muttered into Jim's hair. His suggestion made his mate laugh huskily.


Spock placed a plate of fruit beside Jim's toast. If Jim was acting a little strange than neither he, nor Pavel mentioned it. Jim was strange regardless, his recent 'addiction' to sour citrus fruits was simply a newly developed taste. Like his steadfast belief that yellow socks were good luck on Mondays. Or that Leonard McCoy was really a nice person, deep, deep down.

He sat himself next to Pavel and drank his tea, sending Jim inconspicuous glances every time he knew he wouldn't be caught. Pavel, he noticed, seemed to be doing the same thing.

For the last few days, their bond had felt different. Closer inspection during meditation had shown Spock that Jim was shielding something from him. It did not appear to be anything too important. Their anniversary had come and gone three months ago. Valentines was just over half a year away, not that Jim was particularly interested in the over commercialised day. Christmas would be coming up, along with Jim's yearly heat but they'd already organised the time off. Their birthdays, both being in January, were quite a while away... Spock couldn't think of a single Human celebration which entailed to surprises.

It was frustrating. But, short of confronting Jim about it, there was nothing he could do. Kaiidth. He left the mystery at the back of his mind and waited for Jim to give him the rest of the clues.

It didn't take long.

For someone so smart, sometimes Spock wondered about Jim. Like his ability to leave his things in truly odd places and forget about them. Which is where he found the new suppressant. A short call with Leonard confirmed that the doctor had prescribed it. Jim had somehow developed a slight allergic reaction to his old one and he hadn't wanted Spock to worry about it making him sick.

Spock had decided, since Jim had yet to notice, two could play at the surprises game.

So, he held his tongue when Jim complained of stomach cramps and whined about citric acid burning his throat. He tried not to focus on the new object of all his affections. He reinforced his primary shields so Jim could feel less through the bond. He meditated more often, just to build resistance against the urge to lock his mate away. Or jump him whenever he smelt that alluring scent. It was enough to drive anyone mad.

It all came to a head two months later. Much longer than Spock had initially expected. Jim was in exams and preoccupied with his studies for the majority of the time. It sometimes slipped Spock's mind that Human brains didn't function the same way Vulcan's did.

Having finished their second year exams, Nyota had invited the whole 'gang' out for dinner. The evening had started out pleasantly. The entrées were delicious. Jim found a virgin cocktail made with sash-savas which appealed to him. The vegetarian fare was diverse, unlike Spock's usual options of salad or pumpkin soup. The music was soft piano. The ambience of their little outdoor terrace almost magical. It was a place Spock would have liked to bring his mother.

After dinner everyone had ordered another round of drinks. Which is when everything went downhill.

A chocolate liqueur had caught Jim's interest.

Spock could not allow his mate to imbibe such a substance.

Which led to an argument, blown way out of proportion by Jim's fluctuating hormones.

In a rather childish move, Jim grabbed the drink regardless.

So Spock took it off him and crushed the glass.

Everyone watched with wide eyes. Even the waiter didn't dare make a move, lest either man turned their attention on him. Spock meanwhile, was struggling with his control. He wanted to pick his mate up and take him home and cuddle him and never let go. Especially when he felt the shock and hurt and slight fear make it's way past Jim's anger.

"What the fuck, you green blooded pointy eared bastard?" McCoy shouted, face flushed and eyes cold. He got up and made his way to Jim's side. Spock growled, deep and threatening, before the doctor's outstretched hand could touch Jim.

"You have a lot of nerve acting all-" Spock cut him off before his tenuous control snapped.

"I believe, as a doctor, you should understand why I will not watch my mate consume alcoholic beverages." Spock growled. There was a sharp snap and the piece of the table under Spock's hand fell onto the floor. Vulcans were naturally possessive of their mates. Pregnant mates, even more so. It was the only time outside Pon Farr when a male could lose all sense of logic. Spock was hanging on by barely a thread.

"As a doctor?" Jim asked, voice scarcely more than a whisper. Blue eyes were glazed as he looked inwards. Spock lowered his shields and opened the bond.

"We're having a baby?" Jim turned to look at him, eyes widened in wonder. He tilted his head back and laughed. By now, Spock had already conveyed every move he'd made to keep their secret.

Already forgiven, Jim launched himself into Spock's arms. He snuggled into Spock's lap and patiently let everyone have a turn feeling his belly. Even the terrified waiter. Spock watched, fairly content now that his bondmate was safe in his arms.

Pavel ditched his spot between Hikaru and Scotty to sit in Jim's empty chair and coo in Russian in Jim's general direction.

The edges of Spock's mouth twitched. Now his father had no excuses not to let Amanda join him on his next trip to Earth. Missing their bonding was one thing. Their grandchild? Amanda would never allow that. He'd better get the guest room ready.


So, this is the second last chapter of Entwine. There will probably be an epilogue. Most likely. But we're, you know, on the home stretch.

Just wanted to say a quick thank you to all my reviewers. Your support, encouragement, crazy ideas and general awesome love of Spirk continues to inspire me.

And all the follows and favourites continue to make me smile like a fool. Seriously, ask my sister. She's over me giggling like a weirdo every time I get an email.

:D