Yello everyone! Here's chappie 5! Aren't you excited?
I still don't own anyone. My lawyer looked at me and laughed herself silly. I still don't know why.
Interestin' Fact: This entire series has been written on the bus on my way to and back from school. Cool no?
Oh, and I should warn you this chapter contains an OC (who is not involved with Jim—I could never do that to Spock) and I've used her before, and hopefully she'll be more developed here. I'd like some input on that—tell me if she's worth working with, or if is she bordering on *shudders*… sue-ishness—*cue evil music*.
Oh, and I hope you don't mind I had a male OC too, and instead of making him a kind dick, I kinda made him vanish cuz he's hard to write. And uh. I kept making Jim fight with him. *shrugs* must show an unconscious desire to see/write mano-a-mano stuff, be it fighting or sex. *hint*
P.S. I'm really sorry you guys. I've forgotten how many times I've written this chapter from scratch, because Jim kept doing crazy OOC stuff. So this is the last attempt and I fully intend to publish this before Christmas ends, so yeah. Sorry!
.~*Five*~.
They were on shore-leave, and Jim had received a call from a very attractive looking young woman, while they were at a restaurant having dinner. McCoy and Spock had remained at the table as Jim went to get the call, and had stared at each other for a solid beat before simultaneously looking away. Spock reminded himself that discomfort was an emotion, and therefore unacceptable.
The restaurant was aesthetically pleasing, and the atmosphere (of which he no longer denied the existence) was soothing (which was not, unlike discomfort, an emotion). His pasta was excellent, which in Spock's opinion was rare, and the company was enjoyable, except for McCoy's tendency to over-use certain vulgarities. Jim had laughed and dared him to tell McCoy that. He had undoubtedly been reading into some unintentional subtext. Humans were, and would forever be illogical. He had long ago given up deciphering the language Nyota had dubbed 'Human Male'.
Jim returned from his call, beaming. He informed them in excited tones that his best friend from childhood had invited him to her imminent wedding before they went back out. She had planned it especially so that he would be able to attend, which Spock thought was rather extreme but clearly showed her level of devotion and love for Jim. Which was, he supposed, sweet. Not that he would know anything about sweetness or any other illogical tastes in relation to life-forms. Except for the way Jim's lips closed over the fork as a gently sucked at it… Spock shook his head.
Jim eagerly made plans, including McCoy and Spock without second thought, and he and the doctor exchanged glances. It was absolutely characteristic of an excited Jim.
.~* ~.
Tara's husband (they were already technically married) had had to run on urgent business, a Starfleet admiral who didn't understand the concept of an uninterrupted leave, and Jim sympathized. But Tara seemed both used to it, and completely unaffected. She ran towards the only blonde-haired man on the airbase with a surprising grip on logic and intuition (which normally clashed) and hugged him with an ear-drum shattering squeal.
Jim had laughed out loud and spun her around, much to the amusement of McCoy and other surrounding officers; Spock found himself distinctly un-amused. He rather found himself in tenure of a harsh, somewhat bitter feeling. He (correctly) classified it as possessiveness, and/or jealousy.
But he reminded himself that he would accept whatever made Jim happy, and unless Jim was that good an actor (which in hindsight, he was) she made him happy. So he would accept her. She hadn't done anything to him, and probably never would.
She smiled and kissed both of Jim's cheeks (and the monster in Spock's chest reared it's ugly head) then turned to both men, with an expression of surprise. "You idiot," she said and slapped the back of Jims head with her hand. "You forgot to tell me you were bringing friends!" Jim winced, then shrugged and childishly stuck his tongue out at Tara's back. "I saw that! Hey! You must be Commander Spock," she changed the topic without a hitch. Spock would never admit to being startled.
Spock had resorted himself to shaking her hand, and was even more taken back when she lifted her hand in the traditional Vulcan salute, and said in perfect Vulcan, "Dif Tor Heh Smusma," meaning Live Long And Prosper.
He replied, with a quirk of his eyebrow and a joining of his palms at chest-level, "Namaste, Tara," in what he knew was an almost perfect Hindi accent.
She grinned and nodded slightly, as if acknowledging the presence of another higher being. It was somewhat confusing, enjoying the company of your supposed enemy. And then he wondered why, or when he had classified her as an enemy. She made Jim happy.
By then she had turned to McCoy and had let him kiss the back of her hand, before dipping slightly in a mock-curtsy. Then she and McCoy had burst out laughing, and Spock decided that there had to have been a reason she was close to Jim, and that he liked her.
.~* ~.
Tara was an aesthetically pleasing female. She had skin the colour of desert sand, and a warm serious face that was under no circumstances traditionally beautiful, until she smiled. When she smiled, her entire face lit up by her brilliant teeth, and her nose crinkled in an entirely endearing way. She was vertically challenged, a point which Jim didn't fail to raise at every possible instance. She always retorted with a whack to his head, or shoulder. They seemed very close. They were very close.
Spock reminded himself that jealousy was illogical, and that Jim and Tara were not dating (because she was about to marry someone else and Jim would chose the Enterprise over any woman, any-day) and that she made him happy.
.~* ~.
The wedding was stunning. He had been to one Christian wedding before, and it had been very still and tranquil, pastel shades all around. But this Hindu wedding was totally different.
Everything was painted in bright colours, of which red was the most predominant. It was startlingly similar to Vulcan rituals, with incredible emphasis on fire for whatever reasons. The actual rites finished rather quickly, and Tara informed him that what made Indian weddings notoriously long were the celebrations that followed. She, obviously, was right.
There were drums and trumpets and singing and for some odd reason, elephants. Everything about this wedding was new and strange, and interesting because he could see unique cultural symbolism in almost everything around them.
As the evening wore into night, the party showed no signs of drawing to a close. In fact, the people seemed to be re-energizing themselves with sweets and clearly alcoholic drinks.
And then the dancing started. He was not wearing his watch, but Spock knew, based roughly on the position of the moon and relative stars that it was three a.m. local time.
It started off a large, unorganized group of people, dressed in a multitude of colours, dancing in small groups, pairs or individually. And then the so-far-average volume of music was blasted up until Spock (very illogically) couldn't hear himself think. The music was rhythmic, mainly drums and minimal strings. And someone yelled out a Hindi word with which he was unfamiliar, but people all around seemed to respond positively. He made a note to check out what the word garba meant.
People picked up wooden sticks painted in blues and greens, which he had noticed lying around earlier. The room was cleared of all obstacles and the ground was swept as the jovial atmosphere magnified until happiness was the only thing he could feel through his psi-sensitivities, and that was rare.
Jim made his way through the crowd to him and McCoy, who had not yet noticed the free-flow of drinks at a bar nearby, otherwise he would have been off like a shot leaving Spock there alone. He was wearing a smile, and honestly that was all Spock noticed at first.
Then he saw that his friend was wearing garb similar to that of the Indian men in the room, consisting of a lose-ish knee-length tunic and pants. McCoy had arrived wearing black-tie attire, and subsequently looked ridiculously out of place. Spock himself was wearing semi-formal attire, trousers and a tee-shirt Nyota had forced him to buy.
He moved up very close to the duo, and spoke into their ears to be heard over the surrounding din. "I'm gonna go join in the dance in a bit, are you two okay?"
McCoy answered yes, and Spock nodded, and Jim looked reassured before walking away towards Tara and a group of people whom he seemed to know. He was clearly very happy. "Looks happy as a tribble on crack." Spock turned to his companion, momentarily unsure if the doctor had not already imbibed copious amounts of alcohol. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he's in love with her."
Spock wondered how the Doctor had stolen his thoughts. "But I do know better," McCoy continued and gave Spock a significant look. Only he wasn't entirely sure what the look signified, so he accepted that his companion had indeed imbibed copious, copious amounts of alcohol, and turned to watch Jim.
At some point during their conversation the people around them had formed two circles, one within the other. One was moving clockwise and the other, counter-clockwise. Each person in either ring had a partner, who changed after each cycle which consisted of movements with the sticks in either hand.
It was slow, and rhythmic and Spock was sure he would be able to participate if he chose. Then in the centre of the rings, a small group of people started up a dance with a much more complicated pattern. It was a single ring, and each person turned on their own axes with hand motions while moving clockwise and counter-clockwise in turns, and it sped up until it literally became dangerous to join the circle. And obviously that was where he saw Jim.
Jim looked as if he was watching, and keeping time, and suddenly without warning he jumped into the circle and instead of the collision that caused McCoy to wince (clearly his focus was the same as Spock's) Jim became part of the circle, with the dizzying motions taking him round and round.
Only when he looked at the large picture did he understand the appeal of the garb guests chose to wear. It flared out and glimmered beautifully as they spun, in both the inner circle and the outer one. And from his view of the bigger picture he could see Jim through windows of people, summer longer-than-regulation hair flickering as he spun in the dim light of the garden.
It reminded him of the celebratory dance on Evaro V (chapter 3), though not exactly. That one had been a society as one. This one clearly distinguished between friends and family and acquaintances, and Jim with right there in the centre, close to his friends and surrounded by people who took him as one of them. He was all the way outside, watching time pass, as if he was outside the high definition video.
And he was happy for Jim, happy that Jim was happy but he very selfishly wanted to be a part of it when his participation could very easily retract from Jim's happiness. And so he knew he must not, that he could not allow himself this no matter how he desired it.
"Don't let him fool you. He feels exactly the way you do, only he hides it better." McCoy had somehow obtained a drink when Spock turned to look at him. Spock wondered how anyone could hide anything better than a Vulcan could, but remembered then that this was Jim and after all, he was only half-Vulcan.
Then he processed what McCoy had said, the cryptic statement that said nothing and implied everything, intended to leave the unknowing party out of the conversation. And Spock was again not sure (apparently McCoy and Jim could do this to him without thinking twice) but he thought he knew what McCoy was talking about. After all, he was clearly included in the conversation, unless McCoy was supremely inebriated and was talking to imaginary persons.
But one look into McCoy's surprisingly knowing blue eyes, and he knew exactly what the doctor was talking about, and despite his consistent annoying behaviour and persistent illogic the Doctor would never lie to him; that much Spock knew after six-and-a-half years of service with him.
And now all there was left to do was hope; hope that McCoy was right and that he knew Jim as well as he presumed he did (of course he did, he had known the Captain for almost a decade now), and hope that Jim felt this as intensively as Spock himself did, and hope that something would come of this feeling that was almost tangible.
So he hoped, as he watched Jim dance amidst strange people who would willingly have him, hoping that Jim knew the people who knew and loved him best were right here, waiting. Especially him.
.~* ~.
Well? I know it's long (that's good, right?), and it's been a crazy long time since the last update but I've forgotten how many times I've rewritten this because it's been crazy hard.
And I've been trying to publish something for Christmas, and failing at everything else I decided I'd do this one. So even though it has nothing to do with Christmas, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
Tell me what you think of this chapter, because I did it in a slightly different way, and involved wise!McCoy (one of my favourites) and I hope I did him well.
The dance is real, though not normally performed at weddings, and the ones in the centre are crazy hard (take my word for it)—they're so fast if you don't know what you're doing (like me) it's so easy to fall on your ass. I realise the description is not only confusing, but clinical, but I hope that goes to the added Spock-ish feel of the chapter?
Please review? Pretty please with chocolate-fudge-covered-Spocks on top?
Pets are a great help in times of stress. And in times of starvation too, of course.
Love,
Lady Merlin