Obtest
"Spock."
The Vulcan did not turn. "It is Starfleet, Jim. What do you expect me to do?"
"Run!" Jim cried. He was dangerously close to tears. "You've given them your life in sciences, and what, now you have to go into combat too? To fight a goddamn army of Klingons? It's too dangerous!"
"That would imply I am incapable of defending myself," Spock returned coldly.
"That isn't what I'm—" Jim sighed, spoke again. His voice was still trembling. "I've gone without you too long to lose you now. Please."
Spock shook his head. "I can't, Jim." And he left.
Peradventure
Jim looked up from his desk, surprised to find Spock sitting next to him. "Don't you have a date?" he asked.
Spock didn't answer. He stared straight down at his stack of reports, not seeing anything; his hand, Jim noted with a skittered heartbeat, was very close to Jim's. "We are no longer together."
Jim blinked. "Really?" He looked at Spock's hand and started inching his own towards it. "Can I ask how?—"
"I do not wish to discuss it now." Spock replied sharply.
Jim hastily withdrew. The chance was gone, and there wasn't any sense in pushing it.
Interstice
They still fought, sometimes violently, but never to choking attempts. Spock had gained more than enough control of himself to sink to that level again. But for every fight, no matter the weapons, the aftermath was always the same. A week of avoidance, publically and privately. A week of dark, Vulcan glares and regular pouting sessions on Kirk's part. A week of terse, succinct conversations that occurred only when necessary and mirrored the spaces between them. Only when they were both sick of the nervous side glances of the bridge crew would they make up, publically, but not quite privately.
Timorous
"That went well!" Jim chirped, looking around at the tired but pleased faces of his away team. Save one, of course. Spock's back was turned, but it still took him longer than normal to put his weapons back on the racks.
Jim caught him right before he left. "You alright?"
"You jumped in front of a gun," Spock said, his voice dangerously soft.
Jim shook his head. "I disarmed him just fine, Spock. Everyone's fine."
Spock whirled, his expression more terrified than furious. "Never again," he whispered hoarsely.
Speechless, Jim nodded assent. He'd never seen Spock scared—scared for him.
Simulacrum
Spock opened his eyes blearily but did not move, the back of his skull throbbing where the guard had hit him. Obviously he had failed to escape. Even in the darkness of his cell he could see an addition of jagged rocks to the minimal décor—a deterrent, certainly.
He sighed and shut his eyes. From the reaches of his mind he pulled up the only comfort he'd had for the three days he'd been imprisoned: Jim, golden hair slightly tousled, grinning in his direction.
Spock ground his teeth. Jim would rescue him, of course, but not wearing that smile.
Author's Notes: Finally, some chance to write! Everything's coming along slowly, but eventually. For those who want spoilers, I am continuing the "Very" series. It will contain three more parts before it finishes. I'm also working on a multi-chapter, mostly plot story (no more spoilers on this one) called Hold Your Peace, the first chapter of which is finished. But that's all I'm saying! None of this will be released until I'm at least halfway through; sorry! :)
Thanks to my beta xladyjagsvolleyball16x for being awesome, and to those of you who are still sticking with me through the hiatus. Much love to all of you.