A/N: The second instalment of songfics. Hope you like them! Just one warning, really – more K/S here, but I suppose if you read the last chapter then that doesn't bother you too much. I hope not, because those guys are clearly an old married couple... I mean, look at them ^.^ Adorable!

Ahem... Anyway... Please review, even a word or two will guaranteed make my day I'll just... shut up, now, shall I, and let you read on? Good...

1. I want to hold your hand

Jim leaned over to look at the anomaly Spock's finger pointed to on his scanner. He reached out, touching the same spot on the screen, and for a moment their hands brushed together gently. It was the tiniest of touches, but Jim was subsumed by the flood of barely suppressed thoughts and... feelings. Spock's feelings.

2. Sheila

"A... 'sheila', captain?" Spock sounded genuinely befuddled, his brows pulled together almost imperceptibly in confusion. "Is this one of your human expressions?" Jim smirked affectionately before he replied, "Yes, Spock. An old term, it was used to refer to one of the fairer sex."

A slight green tinge coloured Spock's cheekbones. "I... see," he murmured. "In that case, Jim, I do not consider your term appropriate in reference to the inhabitants of this planet."

"Jealous, Spock?"

"...Captain, that is preposterous."

"Yeah, right."

3. Perfect 10

The women of this planet were... Well, they were perfect. Modest and demure, but somehow they managed to project an undercurrent of barely suppressed flirtation. Spock did not like them one bit.

Needless to say, Jim did not share his assessment.

"Aw, come on," he pleaded. "It'll be... Yeah, never mind. You probably don't know what 'fun' even is."

Spock knew that he was being baited, but indulged his friend. "On the contrary, captain," he said, a smirk in his voice. "I merely do not consider the act of engaging in transient relations with females merely for gratification even close to 'fun'."

"Put off by their neat little stripes, Spock?" taunted Jim playfully. Spock shook his head slightly, wondering if Jim would notice his subtle admission. A moment later, his friend's eyes widened slightly.

"...Oh!"

4. The A Team

Pale skin, unblemished and smooth as it ran seamlessly from pointed ears to high cheekbones and the strong line of his neck. Dark, almost ebony hair, not a strand out of place. Like a porcelain doll, Spock stood stiffly by the window with hands clasped loosely behind his back. Not a muscle moved.

Not a muscle betrayed the agony of turmoil that raged just below the deceptively calm surface. He could feel it coming, the debilitating fate of his species that would take from beneath his feet every dignity he had worked hard to earn from his human crewmates. He would have to face this, eventually. But today he could hold the storm at bay. Today... Tomorrow would have to wait.

5. Music of the Night

The sheets stirred with a soft rustle, slipping from a leg to illuminate the bared skin in a beam of moonlight that shone from a skylight above their heads. Dark eyes gazed upwards into the delicate arrangement of stars, thinking of how delicate they seemed by comparison to seeing them close up. Gaze flitting, he tried to isolate his home, so painfully far from his reach.

Some of that longing must have slipped past his relaxed defences, because a moment later, tanned arms enveloped him in a crushing bear hug, soft, soothing nothings murmured in his pointed ear. Then a worried face eclipsed his view of the cosmos, peering down at him with loving golden-brown eyes. "Hush, now," he soothed, and Spock felt his thoughts comply with this man he had met in the stars.

6. Desperate but Not Serious

"I... can't answer that, Spock," Jim whispered softly, and his friend was surprised to detect a note of fear beneath the usual self-deprecating tones. "Captain," he asked again, "please?"

Jim shivered, unsettled by how vulnerable his First Officer sounded. He wondered how he could be doing this to him. Regulations, whispered a voice in his head. "Screw them," he snapped back at it, realising a moment later that he had spoken aloud.

"Because... because I love you," he replied to the original question.

7. One and Only

I have dreamed this so many times, but I never knew how loud the sound of my heart trying to escape my ribcage would be in real life. How hard it would beat against my chest. How the blood would rush in my ears, panic rising in spite of the fact that there is only one answer that I can possibly give.

"I will," I hear myself say, my voice hoarse with restrained tears. The captain of a Starship does not cry. Then a cool band of metal is on my finger, and a rich baritone is whispering in my ear. "I am given to understand that the presentation of a ring is in accordance with human tradition in such situations."

A laugh bubbles from my lips as the truth of what has just happened sinks in, and then our lips meet in blissful union.

8. Stardust

The lyrical flow of notes, so unlike any music he had heard before, filtered through the room between their cabins. Jim sat up in bed, listening to the delicate tune produced by Spock's dancing fingers in the next room. A small smile played about his lips as he tried to imagine his staunch First Officer relaxing, swaying slightly to the melody with a smile on his lips. Unlikely, he admonished his mind, but not inconceivable.

9. Stand and Deliver

The men were dressed like highwaymen from Earth's eighteenth century, brandishing crude pistols and sporting a band of black across their eyes - as if it could effectively disguise their true identities when a picture of their features decorated every space station in the galaxy on 'Wanted' posters. The one Spock assumed was their leader pointed his gun at the captain, toying with the ancient trigger menacingly. Spock calculated that a fraction more pressure would cause it to-

He darted forward, pushing the captain to the floor as, a moment later, a bullet flew over their heads. "Jim?" he asked, breathlessly, and was unutterably relieved when his friend smiled shakily up at him.

10. One Way or Another

Somehow, he was determined to crack through that flawless façade, and then... Jim indulged in a small mental image of Spock, sans mask. It was awe-inspiring. He had only seen it once before, and he felt honoured to think that his existence had been the reason for such joy. But now he wanted more; to see that blinding smile again, to cause uninhibited emotion to manifest itself upon Spock's angular features. God, he wanted to see it so much. So much it hurt.

But... what if the one emotion he was so desperate to uncover really wasn't there? What if... He shook his head firmly. He had seen the dark look in his friend's eyes when he thought Jim wasn't looking. It was just a case of drawing the admission from him. 'To make him say that he loves me too.' It was a terrifying prospect.