Ch 2: Unexpected Feelings

The quiet countryside was disturbed by the sound of a motor. A lone motorcycle sped through the night, sending dust flying into the evening air. Atop that motorcycle, James Tiberius Kirk's mind raced with the thoughts of his last night on Enterprise. Did he do the right thing allowing Spock to pursue the memories of a life neither of them had ever led? Should he have stood his ground and kept Spock in the dark? He'd give anything to be in Spock's position, blissfully unaware of what he knew now. Then again, deep down he knew that if he really were in Spock's position, he'd not only request to know, he'd demand to know.

The wind whipping through his hair and leather jacket only served to pull his attention away from his thoughts in short bursts. The ride he had expected to help clear his mind only gave him ample time to focus on the matter. His mother was of course happy to see him when he came home, and even his step-father seemed proud to have a Starfleet captain for a step-son. He'd done his best to push the matter to the back of his mind so that he could enjoy his time at home, but to no avail.

The soft, warm bed he had left behind was ready and waiting to have its old master lay in it once more when he entered his room. As comforting as it was to curl up in a familiar place, even in sleep he found himself unable to escape. He could no longer decipher whose feelings he felt; Spock Prime's or his own. Memories of missions not yet accepted, worlds not yet explored, and words not yet spoken slipped in and out of his subconscious. He saw himself as he is and as he will be, speaking amicably with a Spock he's never known.

And then there were their private encounters with stole into his mind. Whispers, caresses, kisses, and touches. Each time one of these encounters entered his dreams, he'd wake up flushed and drenched with sweat.

Kirk shook his head violently as yet another such encounter flashed in his mind. He couldn't keep going on like this! There had to be some way to get this out of his head. So he headed to the only place where he knew you could forget anything and everything: The local bar.

Spock's shuttle landed on the small planetoid not far from where Vulcan once floated. As opposed to Delta Vega, this planet was warm and humid, with green foliage all around. He pulled the paper Kirk had given him from his pocket and re-read the exact coordinates. According to what Spock had written, there should be a Vulcan colony not far from where he landed. While it would be more logical to simply land in the colony itself, he did not want to openly announce to Spock Prime that he had come looking for him.

After walking for some time, Spock finally entered the colony that now housed what was left of the Vulcans. Memories of his home planet came rushing in as he moved past newly erected buildings. A pang of sadness gripped at his heart before he could block it out. It took all he had not to think of his mother…

He inquired as to where he could find Spock Prime and was swiftly directed straight to his home. He stood in front of the door and raised a hand to knock, when he froze. Was this really what he wanted? Was he really and truly ready to learn everything Spock Prime knew? It was a large step that could change him forever.

Spock knew that fear of the future would prevent any true progression in the present. He regained his nerve and knocked. Moments later, Spock Prime answered the door, draped in traditional Vulcan garb. A look of surprise spread openly on his face when he saw his younger self before him. The surprise quickly faded, as he knew this was bound to happen. He nodded to Spock, who nodded back in kind. Spock Prime stepped aside, opening the door wider and allowing Spock to enter. With a heavy sigh, he closed the door.

Kirk staggered out of the bar, laughing wildly. His idea worked like a charm, or at least that's how he felt for the moment. He hopped onto his motorcycle and revved the engine loudly. A bartender came out and shouted, "Hey buddy! You better stay off of that bike! Call someone to take you home!"

Kirk shouted over his shoulder, "Don wurrie 'bout me pal, I dun dis a miiiiiiiiiillllion tiiiiiimes, ha ha!" With a final rev, Kirk reared back into a wheelie, which would have made for a very dramatic exit had his motorcycle not flipped him onto his back and landed on top of him.

"Oooooooowwwwww…"

The bartender ran over to Kirk and flipped the motorcycle off of him. "You damned fool! Didn't I tell you to stay off the bike?!?"

Kirk was lifted to his feet with a loud groan. The bartender shook his head and dragged him back into the bar. "Stupid drunks, thinking they can do whatever they damn well please…" The bartender brought him to the back of the bar, where he kept a lounge for his employees to rest when they needed a break. He laid Kirk gently on the chez lounge that doubled as a bed for the drunks with no way home. Putting his hands on his hips, he said loudly, "Since it's obvious you're too drunk and too stupid to find a safe way home, you can sleep your alcohol off here. And you better be able to walk a straight line when you wake up!"

The door slammed shut, leaving Kirk alone. "'s fine wif me sir!" he yelled. "Ah wuz kinda shleepy anywayz…"

Kirk snuggled on the chez lounge and drifted off to sleep. For a while, his dreams were normal, alcohol induced dreams. It seemed as though for the first time in weeks, he'd have a peaceful sleep. But peace didn't last very long. More images swirled in his mind, more feelings overwhelmed him. It was like he had taken Spock Prime's life, threw it into a dicer, and was pouring chucks of it into his mind.

But soon, unfamiliar scenes played before his eyes. He was no longer looking into Spock Prime's life, but fantasizing of his own. He saw Spock rejecting Uhura, coming into his quarters, removing his clothes. Spock climbed into his bed, caressed his face, kissed him deeply. His hands roamed down his neck, down his chest, down, down to his groin…

Kirk woke up with a gasp. Sweat soaked through his clothes. The chez lounge beneath him was moist from where he lay. His breath was labored as if he had run a mile. He looked at the clock across the room: 07:14 AM. He had clearly slept off the alcohol, and yet he still felt intoxicated. He stood up carefully and left the room.

The bartender sat in the corner of the room sleeping. Kirk gave him an envious look. Must be nice to sleep in peace like that… He patted the man on the shoulder to wake him up. The man woke up startled, looking around to see who was interrupting his slumber. He saw Kirk and said sleepily, "Oh, 'syou. Finally sober enough to drive your motorcycle without killing yourself?"

With a laugh, Kirk nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks for letting me stay in your break room." The bartender stood on his feet, wobbling slightly. "Sure, no problem. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to call my wife and have her take me home. She just hates it when I have to stay past closing for drunkards like you." The bartender gave Kirk a smirk that Kirk happily returned.

"Don't worry; I'm sure she'll appreciate you keeping another dumbass from killing himself by driving drunk. Sleep well mister!"

The bartender waved at Kirk as he revved up his motorcycle and drove off. Kirk wasn't sure what he was going to do about these unwanted thoughts and feelings, but the recent development of his dreams disturbed him.

Guess alcohol wasn't the answer to his problems after all.

Sorry for the unintentional "Don't drink and drive" message at the end of the chapter…