Bitter Aftertaste

"I'm sorry, Spock," Jim whispered as he took the peach from Jareth.

The tears he hadn't noticed mixed with the juice from the peach and the combined liquid dribbled down his chin. The peach was sweet, too sweet. Almost like a sugared peach should taste. As he expected, he felt funny. The world around him began to blur before it tilted, then it simply faded from his vision. Jim felt himself falling, and feared to open his eyes, afraid of the continuing horrors of the planet. After an indiscernible period of time, he no longer felt the weightlessness of falling. He did hear raucous laughter combined with the dulcet sounds of concert music. Blinking against the harshness of the bright light of the room, Jim opened his eyes.

"Wow."

All around him were people in grand dresses and suits. Most wore Carnival masks, but some had their masks hanging limply from their hands. They were all merrily dancing around a giant ballroom. The ceilings of the room vaulted as if desiring to touch the sky. All around, white gossamer fabric adorned walls, pillars, chandeliers. The whole room was illuminated by soft candlelight which came from various multi-tiered candelabras scattered around the edges of the room. An enormous chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, it appeared to sparkle in the flickering candlelight. The overall effect gave Jim the impression of being transported back through time.

Several people offered him their hand, clearly wanting him to dance with them. He declined. There was someone he was looking for, someone he needed to see. Fortunately, he was taller than most of the guests, and was able to survey the room easily. The couples continued to spin and laugh around him. There, on the far side of the room, nearly concealed from sight by the shadows of the two pillars he stood between…Spock. Jim felt a surge of pure, undiluted joy sweep through his system. The very Vulcan he'd been searching for stood mere feet from him. With more haste than grace, Jim made his way to where Spock stood. The smile which seemed eager to overtake his entire face faded as he noted the scowl etched into Spock's face. This was more than his normal impassive stoicism, this was serious; this indifference was directed at Jim.

"Spock!"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Captain."

His heart sank at the formality of the address. He'd hoped they were beyond such pointless protocol. For a moment, he faltered. He'd hoped Spock would be pleased to see him.

"Is there something you required?"

"Require? Spock, what's the matter with you?"

"I assure you, Captain, I am quite well."

"The hell you are. You're mad at me."

Spock raised an eyebrow once more.

"Care to fill me in?"

"I have no desire to discuss the matter at this time. We are at a party, a place not conducive to such conversations."

"Why are we at a party?"

Spock looked at him quizzically. "I do not understand your query, Captain."

"What are we doing at a party, Spock? Doesn't it feel like we were somewhere else? Like we were doing something important?"

Spock thought over the Captain's words. It did seem odd that the pair would be at a party, unless it was some sort of formal Starfleet affair. For a moment he wondered why he was displeased with the Captain. Normally, Spock was not prone to feeling emotions, but Jim stirred something in him. What pursuit could they have been following that would be more important than the party? Spock paused his thoughts…Starfleet…Enterprise…Jim. Spock looked down at his Captain, the earnest look in his eyes, as if Spock could decipher the answer to every question in the universe. One thought kept returning to the forefront of his mind: Enterprise. In a rush, it all returned to him. The memories of the planet on which they were held prisoner, the pain of the torture, the betrayal…

"Jim," Spock 's voice barely above a whisper.

Jim looked up, eyes wide, curious.

"Why, Jim? Why did you let him defeat you?"

At first, Jim didn't understand the question. Let who defeat him? Then realization struck him like lightening. Jareth. He'd eaten the peach. Spock had been tortured in order to get him to eat the peach. Jareth had won; Jim had allowed it.

"Spock," Jim began, his voice equally soft, "I couldn't let him destroy you. Not if I could help it."

"You knew he was - "

"Yes, I could see it. I could hear it. Hell, I could feel it. He told me I could stop it. I could stop it by taking the damn peach. Spock, I had to make it stop. I couldn't – I wouldn't – I –" Jim's voice broke.

Unsure of what to say, Spock remained silent. He had suspected Jareth had some nefarious reason for not allowing Spock to see Jim's progress. Now he knew to what Jim had said yes. To save him.

"You should not have made such a sacrifice for me. Such a move was illogical. You had no way of knowing what the result of eating the fruit would be, and without any thought to the consequences, you took it."

"I had to, Spock. I had no choice. Jareth called my bluff."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"You're the desire of my heart," Jim uttered, his voice tainted by bitterness. He knew Spock wouldn't immediately return his feelings, but he was not prepared for such coldness.

"It was not a logical decision."

Jim smiled. "Probably not, but it was the decision I made. I know you think less of me for it, but I had to…I couldn't allow him to torture you like that…not when I had a chance of stopping it. Don't you understand?"

"But you are the Captain. Your survival is more important than my own."

"According to whom? You don't understand, do you, Spock? You're the desire of my heart…how could I allow you to suffer?"

"As First Officer, it is my responsibility to ensure your well-being."

"And as the Captain, it's my duty to see to yours."

Spock could not argue his logic, however much he wanted to, and merely inclined his head. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to pull Jim into his arms and simply hold him until they passed of old age. He refrained, because as satisfying as that would be, he did not trust their current environment and one of them needed to remain clear-headed enough to view the situation logically.

"Are you still angry with me?"

"Anger is an emotion of no consequence. It serves no purpose; it is illogical."

"And are you still angry with me?"

"I find it would be unjust to fault you for saving my life."

"Okay."

"Jim, how am I here? What is this place?"

"I have an idea about that, but you're not going to like it."

"I fail to see how my emotional response to your hypothesis is of any importance to our current state."

"God, I've missed you."

"Your theory?" Spock pointedly ignored the way his heart jumped at Jim's admission.

"I think this is a dream. I think I'm dreaming."

"You are correct, Captain. I fail to see any evidence to lead to such a conclusion."

"We are on a planet of myth and magic, and you fail to see any evidence? Come on, Spock, this is Jareth…he clearly doesn't want to kill me, so it wouldn't make sense for the peach to poison me. I think it was meant to make me sleep. Even if I am sleeping, the clock continues to count down…forcing me to miss the deadline even if I make it to the Goblin King's castle."

"While it makes sense for him to want you alive, thus allowing the possibility of this being a dream, it does not make sense for me to appear here. Dreams are manifestations of your subconscious. We are clearly corporal, and therefore cannot be in a dream."

"Did you miss the bit about magic, Spock? What if dreams manifest themselves differently on this planet? What if they are closer to daydreams, sleepwalking or hallucinations?"

"None of those alternatives would explain my physical presence."

"Why are you fighting this? Did I fail you so badly by accepting the peach that you don't even want to be near me?"

Spock had the strange desire to comfort Jim, to simply throw his arms around his Captain and murmur soothing words into his ear. He refused to give into these desires, not because he was angry with Jim, but because he feared what such a surge of emotion meant for him. It did anger him that Jim would make such a sacrifice for him. It was unnecessary…he was not as important as Jim – Jim was the Captain, he had an entire crew to see to, not simply a First Officer.

"Okay, Spock. I'll leave," Jim whispered, voice broken.

Spock's arm shot out and his hand closed around Jim's arm, halting his retreat. He didn't want the Captain to be out of his presence. What was unexpected was the influx of warmth that swept through Spock's system. The small part of his mind which he had partitioned off fought as never before against his barriers. There was a bright light which leaked through the cracks in his barriers; it was as though the light was searching for something, for someone.

His continued presence reassured Jim. If allowing for the Captain's hypothesis would make Jim feel more comfortable, and not look as if he were hurt, then Spock would indulge the Captain in he made no move to either leave, or ask the Captain to leave, Jim's anxiety faded; consequently, Spock felt something deep inside himself quiet.

"Fascinating."

Jim waited for Spock to either explain himself, or release his arm. He didn't want to move and dislodge Spock's hand, it was warm where it griped his upper arm and he was not eager lose the contact. As he continued to look at Spock, he felt the hand on his arm loosen slightly, as Spock's thumb began to move back and forth against his skin absently. Jim choked back a moan and forced his eyes to not roll shut.

"I accept your hypothesis, Jim."

"Wha- you accept - ?"

"Yes, Jim."

"Why?"

"Because it pleases you."

"So, you believe you're here with me?"

"What I believe is irrelevant. I have accepted your hypothesis and will remain until you ask me to leave."

Jim smiled softly. "Oh Spock, I don't think you realize how you being here, really here, is affecting me."

"Indeed I do, Captain. Your heart rate has increased, the palms of yours hands are sweating, and the pupils of your eyes have dilated."

"And, in your opinion, what would cause such anatomical changes?"

Even without the husky edge to Jim's voice, Spock knew what was causing such changes. The light continued to pound against the barriers he'd erected; it seemed as though Jim's admissions had encouraged that part of his brain to struggle even more. He could not release the dam though; not until they were far away from this place. Those barriers had been placed there to protect him from an incomprehensible loss. Without knowing the ultimate result of releasing the hold, he would need to focus more energy on repairing the barriers.

"Spock?"

Spock realized he'd remained silent for longer than socially acceptable in such situations.

"You're not with me, here, now…are you?" Jim asked.

"I am distracted by my own thoughts, Captain. I apologize for the inconvenience."

Jim snorted. Inconvenience. Of course. He needed to do something…anything to make Spock really believe they were both here, together. He was inches away from the desire of his heart, but the distance had never felt longer. Watching his First Officer closely was a skill Jim had honed over the past few months, and he'd observed the manner in which Spock displayed emotions. When Spock had held him back, kept him from moving away, he had acted without conscious thought; Jim knew this because of the ever so slight way his brows drew together. This small, seemingly insignificant act gave Jim the foolish idea he currently had in his head.

Before he could think better of it, Jim turned himself towards Spock and pressed their lips together. In that instant, Jim felt his entire world shift. Some people say they saw stars, or they felt weightless…Jim would have agreed, and added that it was unlike anything he'd ever felt in his entire existence. When Spock returned the kiss with a slight, almost hesitant pressure of his own, Jim felt as though he were home. For a brief moment, it didn't matter that they were stuck on a planet where they were both likely to die, or that Jareth was somehow behind all of this…the only thing that mattered was Jim and Spock and the fusing of their lips.

The moment ended with such a painful separation, that Jim had to remind himself to breathe through the pain. His brief respite, his moment of ecstasy was gone. He knew when he opened his eyes, Spock would no longer be in front of him. He knew the dream was over and the bitter aftertaste of the too sweet fruit he now tasted in his mouth beckoned the nightmare.

"Was any of it real?" Jim asked, without opening his eyes.

He could feel the weight of Jareth's gaze through his closed eyelids.

"Yes, Jim," Jareth admitted, a bit reluctantly. "It was real. You are such a clever boy. I didn't take into account your overwhelming need for him. I fear I allowed my arrogance to cloud my judgment in this instance. I won't make the mistake again."

Jim opened his eyes. Jareth stood before him in the now empty ballroom.

"How?"

"It is quite simple. You sought him out, desperately. At the expense and exclusion of everything else you simply sought Spock. As you told him, it was your dream; dreams do manifest themselves more literally here than they do on other planets. I'm afraid it was all very real."

"You sound upset by my dreams, Jareth."

"Only for you, dear boy. Only for you."

"What do you mean?"

"It will make the rest of this much more difficult for you. Have you figured out what the fruit does, Jim?"

Jim analyzed the events after eating the peach. His first thought was it induced hallucinations, but he dismissed that thought because it wasn't enough for Jareth. The peach's poison would have a purpose. A goal, and Jareth's ultimate goal was to –

"It makes me forget things you don't want me to remember. When I first showed up in this room, I couldn't remember why Spock and I were here; I didn't remember the mission."

"And what do you remember now, Jim?"

Jim shook his head, blinked several times then looked back up at Jareth. "I still need a First Officer for the Enterprise."