Author's Chapter Notes:

Okay, so it's been a long time coming but here's chapter 6! I got my computer about a month and a half ago but I've been kind of put off by this story. I didn't much likeit but then I got some lovely reviews asking for more and I didn't want to disappoint! This one is a bit shorter as I wrote it in about an hour but you can likely expect another today or tomorrow now that I have the creative juices flowing again. I really hope you enjoy it.

James blinked away the bleariness from his eyes only to focus on grey. The hum of engines vibrated on the bed beneath him and he immediately shot up. Where was he? What happened? He had been on his motorcycle and then- He turned to his right to see Spock sitting at a respectful distance on the bed across the room. From the looks of it, he had been up for a while; he was already dressed in fresh robes and not a single slanted eyebrow hair was out of place. Meanwhile Jim had been changed into loose fitting silk pajamas, and his hair was in a state of fabulous disarray, sticking up in every angle in a way that surely defied gravity.
Jim blushed, covering up his nonexistent bareness with the quilt and scooting up against the corner. "D-Did you…?"

"No, I have been informed that your Leonard McCoy was charged with the task of dressing you for sleep. We thought it would be more accommodating to your comfort." Well, in fact, it was Spock who had thought it up. A Vulcan handmaid was ordered to do it but Spock dismissed her and went to ask McCoy for his assistance. The country doctor had done so with little resistance beyond a few grumbles that would have gone unheard of if not for Spock's enhanced hearing, however he decided not to mention it.

"Oh, um, good. I mean…yeah." Spock quirked an eyebrow up at Jim's behavior but before he could comment on it Jim was already in the bathroom with the door locked. Spock stared after him and wondered if this could ever work out between them.

The rift of Jim's distrust only seemed to get larger the harder he tried to cross it. He wondered if in another universe they could have found each other on their own and formed a bond of their own accord. The Vulcan pulled himself back to reality. Such thoughts were illogical. There would be plenty of time to bond after they had…well…bonded. They both needed space. Jim stepped out of the washroom with clean robes of Vulcan design. Spock found he preferred him when he had just woken up but he looked lovely nonetheless. Spock grabbed a PADD and comm unit from the night table and walked over to his fiancé, "These are for you. You are welcome to use any of the amenities available on the ship. Any crew member will readily assist you and my frequency is programmed onto both of these devices. Please do not hesitate to call me for any reason. I will be in the ship's Science labs. One of the servants on this ship will be here in a few minutes to serve you breakfast. We will meet in my personal dining room for lunch at twelve o' clock ship's time for lunch. Have you any questions?"

Jim stared at him for a few moments before speaking, "No, I think I'm fine." 'Yes you are.' Thought Spock, a faint green bloomed in his cheeks and he quickly dismissed himself.

"Good day then. I look forward to seeing you soon." With that, he was out the door, and Jim was alone.
When he was sure that Spock was gone he gave a dramatic huff and flopped onto the spacious bed. He pulled the pillows over his head and made loud sounds of frustration into the mattress, kicking his feet against the foot of the bed. He went limp, how could his parents do this? They didn't even say goodbye for christ's sake. Now he was stuck in space with a bunch of aliens going to some desert wasteland light-years away. This sucked, royally. He sat up, looking pathetically dejected and sorry for himself when a knock was at the door. He collected himself, smoothing out his robed and straightening his circlet. "Come." He shouted, and a stone faced woman wheeled in a tray with his favourite French toast and marmalade with orange juice and a fruit salad. He brightened a little and the woman began to set Jim's place at the little table he hadn't noticed.

"Enjoy your meal sir." The voice matched the face. With a final bow, she was gone.
Jim debated whether to eat it or not, he was very aware of his hunger, he didn't know how long he'd been out. Now that all the scratches were dressed he was able to pay attention to such things. However this was from his prison guards, maybe they'd postpone the wedding if he starved himself out of spite. The warm scent of cinnamon wafted up into his nose and he immediately decided they wouldn't care. He sat down at the place provided to him by the cold woman and took a large chunk of one piece of the toast and stuck the fork into his mouth. The young man let out a sigh of contentment and swallowed the morsel. Eagerly, he continued to devour his meal, satisfied with his choice to take the proffered food.

It took about half an hour for him to finish and savor his meal and it left him ultimately satisfied. He didn't know how they guessed it was a good idea to give him that particular dish but he imagined his father had something to do with it. He assumed the dishes would be cleared by someone so he decided to go explore the ship. Luckily for him he ran into the captain in the hallway who offered to give him the grand tour. He supposed it couldn't hurt, and he had time to kill

Chapter End Notes:

So there it is! Don't worry, they shall be reunited. I just wanted to give them a chance to get used to the idea away from each other and maybe give poor Jim-bo a distraction. I couldn't resist Spock doing the "Damn gurl, you fiiiiine." Thing despite my best efforts otherwise, so consider it the humorous part of this chapter. And no, I've never had french toast with marmalade, I just imagine it's something Jim would like; full of fat and carbs and things that are bad for him. Stuff will be happening. Thanks for your support!