Still don't own Star Trek. I know, sad isn't it?
I find it mildly humorous that I had said something about expecting it to take about two week in between chapters and that is not what is happening at all. Oh well. Enjoy.
… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …
Jim didn't actually know how he ended up in the position he was in. He was aware that he must have invented a new shade of red with his face though.
Chekov and Scotty were standing in the still open door to the observation deck, equal looks of pure shock on their faces. Jim couldn't blame them. He'd have had a similar look if he'd walked in on himself in this kind of position.
Saying he was sprawled out on a couch would be neglecting to mention the fact that he was actually laying on top of Spock. He was somewhat nestled between his legs, propped up against his chest with his head somewhere between his chest and shoulder. He was balancing a PADD on his knee, with Spock's hand rather firmly gripping his hip, long fingers burning a brand up towards his stomach from where they were splayed against bare skin. Jim's hand that wasn't clutching at the PADD was tangled with Spock's, draped half over the back of the couch.
"Jim!" Scotty broke off his surprise, rushing forward. "For god's sake lad, tell me ye're all right!"
"I vill get doctor!" Chekov announced, bolting the other direction.
Jim struggled to get up, and found Spock had a very tight grip on him. "Do not attempt to move yet Jim."
Jim gulped. "I...What just happened?"
He craned his neck to look up and saw him staring down with nearly pinprick pupils. "We shall discuss with Doctor McCoy a renewed assessment of your psi-rating."
The last few seconds came racing back to him with a vengeance. The had been discussing the stupid paperwork. Jim was pacing around, while Spock sat primly on the edge of the couch. Jim had started to get bored, which was probably a bad show. Given Spock had been in his head a few times now, he really doubted seeing him bored was going to be the thing that made him decide he was an incompetent officer.
And that whole in the head thing had been the problem, hadn't it?
Jim got bored, so he went wandering in his own head. He'd found the bond, surprisingly easily and curiosity got the better of him. He poked it, mentally, gently. That didn't do anything, but the fact that he could poke it at all peaked his interest, so he did it again, harder.
Turns out he knows absolutely nothing about his own mental capabilities, because he shattered the shield on it. Spock had barely gotten to his feet when Jim collapsed backwards, catching him but not being able to support his weight from the position he was in. Thus the falling to the couch. Jim's head was pounding something awful and dimly he realized Spock had enacted a rather hasty shield.
"Sorry..." Jim groaned, dropping the PADD to bring a hand to his head. "Are you alright Spock?"
"I was not harmed." Spock tightened his grip on Jim's hip. "The emotional residue will subside shortly."
"Didn't mean to do that." Jim murmured, vision a bit hazy.
"Jim!" Bones burst through the door to the observatory, bag in hand and panic firmly affixed to his expression. "Good god man. What happened?"
Spock's face tightened. "Jim violently removed the shielding on our bond."
Scotty straightened, a look of shock on his face. "Ye're bonded?"
McCoy narrowed his eyes at him. "Not a word about it. Get out of here Scotty. This falls under doctor patient problems."
"Aye." Scotty nodded furiously. "I'll keep quiet...Ye worried me half to death Jim."
Jim smiled weakly. McCoy watched him a long moment until he was gone and engaged a lock on the room. The look on his face when he returned it to Jim was chilling in just how scared and serious it was.
"Your tricorder readings both look alright. High on adrenaline and dopamine..." McCoy was breathing heavily, trying to will down his panic. Jim wondered a bit at what Chekov had said. "I need you to talk to me, both of you. Jim, what were you even thinking, poking around telepathic shields? Do you not remember a thing I said about your psi-rating? Didn't I tell you to be careful?"
"I would desire an explanation as to Jim's telepathic capabilities." Spock announced stiffly, though it was somewhat lessened by the almost casual way he was still sprawled out under Jim.
McCoy stared at Jim, who didn't seem particularly interested in being forthcoming. "Higher than most humans, but considered non-existent for all intents and purposes. If I had to guess, I'd say it was a combination of the slightly higher effect and the supposedly easy connection of your bond that is making it easier for Jim."
"Fascinating. I would have desired to be made aware of this fact prior to our bonding." Spock glanced down at him. "However, it is no longer prudent. You may be interested to know, Jim, that it is possible, with practice, that you could become adept at communicating through a bond such as ours."
Spock flushed a second later, because the full implications of the bond being fully open really sank in a bit too late. He blamed the momentary confusion and lack of mental control on the shock of the violently cleared shielding. Jim seemed to perk up a bit though, a wide look in his eyes. He immediately seemed to think of something, however, and sank deeper against Spock's chest, pouting.
"Right now there are some problems to that." Jim reminded. "First, I clearly can't be trusted with my own mind. Second, as we've already noticed, it takes all my concentration to be able to barely be touching you when the shield is down. Let alone mess with our connection in my head."
"How do you know that?" McCoy asked, unamused.
"Er...practice?" Jim smiled sheepishly.
"Jim, you are causing physical pain to my hand." Spock informed him, because Jim's grip had tightened considerably.
Jim squeaked, attempting to yank his hand back and failing given how well wrapped up they were in each other. For a good minute they disentangled themselves fully. When they were separated, McCoy started looking over Spock's hand while Jim forced himself into the far corner of the couch. He felt a spike of white hot rage when McCoy's gloved fingers flexed around Spock's, assessing. They both turned to him in surprise at the rather vicious growl that ripped out of his throat.
"You okay there Jim?" McCoy asked tentatively, drawing away from Spock.
Jim was horrified he'd just done that. "I don't know...I just..."
Spock looked like he was almost smirking. "I do not believe he was pleased with you touching my hands, doctor."
McCoy frowned, furrowing his brow and glancing between them. "What?"
Jim scowled. "What is this bond doing to my head?"
"Do not worry Jim, I have noticed a similar distaste on occasions where I have recently readjusted the shield on our bond." Spock raised an eyebrow at the curious look. "Just as the bond induces a sense of comfort from closeness, it it likely to produce a sense of possessiveness until it has properly finished setting."
"You're saying it brainwashes him into wanting you?" McCoy snarled.
"Quite inaccurate, Doctor and to the contrary, it is likely to reduce any such desires." Spock cocked his head to the side. "However, as the bond is stronger than that of a normal human bond formed of friendship, a sense of propriety and possession does exits. I am Jim's friend, first and foremost, and belong to him. It is natural for humans to be jealous if they perceive their friends have turned to another for aid they believe they should be considered for primarily."
Jim's face was hot. Spock belonged to him. He knew he was just talking about the bond, trying to explain it to McCoy, but the same little part that had been ready to smack him for touching Spock's hands was now doing a victory lap in his brain. Okay. That made sense. It was a bit like owning a dog and watching it run to greet your best friend before you when you both entered your apartment. He was jealous. He could handle that.
"It was prudent they remember who you belonged to."
"You knew!" Jim sat bolt up right, pointing an accusatory finger at Spock.
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Jim?"
"One is both possessing and possessed by their mate, touching and touched…" Jim parroted, a sneer on his face. "You knew the entire time you pointy eared jerk."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "I believe I already warned you that Vulcan relationships were more demanding then a human would be accustom to."
"We aren't in a relationship." Jim protested. "Not really..."
"Indeed." Spock nodded. "You were informed that the bond would complicate our ruse. If you wish then the bond can be-"
"If you talk about yanking this bond out of my head one more time I will punch you in the face." Jim snapped. "If I want rid of it then I'll tell you. Until then you can suffer through it or decide that you don't want to be bonded to me anymore. Stop trying to convince me I don't want this here."
"Want's an awful strong word Jimmy." McCoy smirked. "I thought you were tolerating it until you found the best solution for both of you."
Jim flushed. "Shut up Bones."
McCoy stood, shaking his head. His eyes caught sight of a line of blue from where he still hadn't corrected his shirt's displacement. "Good lord, are you seriously wearing those?"
Jim glanced down and caught sight of his boxers peeking out of his uniform. "What? What's wrong with my choice in underwear?"
"First, I know those aren't regulation. Second, I thought I got rid of those things in the academy."
"I bought new ones." Jim shrugged. "The ones you threw away weren't science blue anyway."
"I am curious, why is Doctor McCoy expressing interest in your choice of undergarment?"
Jim blinked over at him, and flushed. "No reason."
"Just the solicitous writing printed across his boxers." McCoy smirked.
"It isn't solicitous! It's flirty." Jim protested.
"May I inquire as to the writing you have printed on your undergarment, Jim?" Spock was looking at him with one eyebrow raised, far too amused by the things he was watching.
Jim grumbled something under his breath and McCoy burst out laughing. "You've outdone yourself this time."
"I apologize, I was unable to understand you, Jim." Spock glanced between them, curious. "Please repeat yourself at a greater volume."
Jim flushed, glancing down at his regulation boots. "It says 'talk nerdy to me' in Vulcan."
Spock's eyebrows rocketed up to his hairline and he glanced down towards Jim's hips. "Fascinating."
Jim tugged his command shirt down, covering the flash of blue. This was suddenly a quite awkward conversation. Jim hadn't chosen the boxers written in Vulcan because of Spock. That would be ridiculous. Spock was never going to see his underwear. He had chosen it because that was probably the nerdiest language it came in. Not because knowing Vulcan was nerdy, but it totally was if you weren't Vulcan or a linguist, but because Vulcans were supremely intelligent. If anyone could talk you into an orgasm about warp physics, it was a Vulcan.
Though maybe it was a bit unhealthy and nerdy to be that turned on by physics.
McCoy slapped Jim on the shoulder. "Try not to faint any time soon. Okay. You've just about given me a heart attack."
Jim flushed. "Sorry."
Spock waited until McCoy left before picking up the discarded PADD. "Do you wish to continue, or shall I finish the paperwork on my own?"
Jim scuffed his boot on the ground. "I tried to pay attention...I guess, if you don't mind finishing it on your own."
"I believe the process will be considerably quicker." Spock agreed immediately.
Jim rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Okay. I can take a hint. I'll see you later Spock."
"Goodnight Jim."
Jim paused, almost to the door, and threw a warm smile back. "Sleep tight Spock."
… .. . .. …
Jim laughed. He couldn't help it. He'd been warming up in the gym, preparing for another training session with Spock, when he ran straight into him. It wasn't a light hit, either, but Spock managed to keep both of them from falling. Jim's ear-buds, because he love old technology damn it, were half wrapped around both of them. In the process of untangling them, he discovered that the wire had somehow managed to wrap itself through the belt loop on Spock's pants.
"Talk about quantum entanglement." Jim snickered, even as he made to unplug the earphones.
"Quantum entanglement-assisted transportation was first proposed on earth in the year 1993." Spock murmured. "Entanglement swapping is generally not considered possible on the scale necessary for the wire of your device to be in the position it is without outside mechanical interference."
Jim flushed, staring up at Spock with a half-giddy smile. "Are you accusing me of intentionally getting wrapped up?"
"To the contrary, Jim. I sincerely doubt it was caused by your interference." Spock quirked an eyebrow.
Jim tried to ignore the thunder of blood rushing through his ears as he caught that implication. Sneaky Vulcan. Jim hadn't even seen his hand on the cord at any point. Spock had already walked off towards the locker rooms to change, leaving Jim standing there stupidly holding an unplugged wire in the air. Flushing deeper, he raced after him.
"Will you change into something more conducive to fighting?" Spock asked when Jim followed him.
Jim glanced down, recalling that he was in his uniform still. "Probably a good idea."
Jim glanced up in time to see Spock stripping off his shirt and flushed, looking away quickly. He promptly shook off his embarrassment, reminding himself that it was hardly the first time he'd seen Spock shirtless and they were both guys so it didn't matter. Jim tugged off his command tunic, watching Spock from the corner of his eye. He was always so quick and efficient when he needed to change for a mission. Now, though, he seemed to be taking his time, folding each article of clothes carefully before replacing it. Jim was haphazardly throwing clothing on the bench behind him and he damn well knew it.
Spock glanced over at him when he realized he was staring.
His eyes immediately flicked down to the distinctly not regulation boxer-briefs with '01110000 01100101 01110010 01101101 01101001 01110011 01110011 01101001 01101111 01101110 0100000 01110100 01101111 0100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01100101 0100000 01100001 01100010 01101111 01100001 01110010 01100100' printed across the front.
"Shut up." Jim flushed, yanking a pair of shorts from his locker.
"You continue to wear highly illogical underwear, Jim." Spock returned to his own matter of dressing. "I said nothing."
Jim grumbled something about it being perfectly logical as he dug around for his hoodie. Okay, so maybe Bones was right and he needed to clean that thing out every once in a while. He never really found time. God, did his crew ever notice that? How embarrassing was that? Usually Jim only came to the gym when no one else was around. Currently no one was in the locker room, but the gym was still more populated than he was used to.
He'd had that qualm, last time, but he'd changed in his room and mostly ignored it. He glanced sideways in time to catch sight of Spock pulling a loose tank top on.
His back muscles flexed impressively.
Jim quelled his odd desire to reach out and feel them flex under his palm by slamming his locker. Spock glanced over at him, closing his own locker.
"If you are ready, we will move to one of the training rooms."
Jim nodded, half racing off. Spock followed at a more sedate pace. His mind happened to wander to Jim's illogical choice of underwear. On three occasions in as many days their discussions had alluded to or centered on Jim's undergarments. It was highly strange. His eyes fell to Jim's hips. They swayed more when he was angry. Spock had noticed the slight swagger become more pronounced on numerous occasions when Jim was expressing agitation.
His hips were swaying considerably.
"You are agitated, Jim."
Jim glanced back over his shoulder. "No I'm not."
"You are." Spock cocked his head to the side. "Have I transgressed in some way?"
"What? No." Jim turned, putting his hands on his hips. Spock drew to a stop just in front of him. "Why would you think that?"
"You expressed signs of frustration shortly after I deemed your choice in undergarments illogical. It is only logical to assume I have offended you in some way."
Jim blushed. "What do I care if you like my underwear? It's nothing. I'm just...thinking about my relationship with the crew."
Spock hesitated. "Jim...I do not know why you continue to have difficulty with this matter. The crew-"
"Can we just drop it?" Jim asked, a pained smile on his face.
"Affirmative." Spock nodded.
They had reached the private room. Jim was not fighting with Spock out in the open mats anymore, because he was tired of being gawked at. Yeah, it was a bit soon for another lesson, and not a great idea knowing he had been having a hard time the day before because of that stupid bond, but he needed something to do with his nervous energy. He was barely getting to sleep at night he was so charged. And when he did...well...it wasn't very restful sleep.
Jim stretched out a bit, glad for his warm-up. His muscles were pleasantly loose and he couldn't wait to get a proper burn in them. Spock was stretching out himself, and Jim allowed himself to watch. Spock was incredibly graceful. It made Jim feel a bit inadequate. Spock moved through every motion, every act with pure control. It was amazing, soothing. Jim felt clumsy and wild in comparison.
Spock started him with the basics again. They came a little easier that time, and Jim felt surprised by that. It was still a clumsy process, but somehow a touch better than before.
Jim was ecstatic. Spock managed to lead him through the motions much more rapidly than the time before, which meant a bit more repetition. Finally, Spock seemed to deem it acceptable because he stepped back and stopped jabbing him. Jim was grinning.
"I'm getting a little better!"
"Indeed." Spock looked him over. "Do you wish to spar?"
"You think that's a good idea?"
"I believe it is prudent that you actually attempt to make use of my lessons. If you are not trained for actual combat situations, then you will not be likely to use the skills you have amassed when they are most necessary." Spock shifted into a relatively basic position. "For them to be most effective, these techniques must be automatic, Jim."
Jim nodded. "Okay. Yeah. Let's try this."
It wasn't really sparing. It was shifting through the motions, slower than any fight would go. Spock would throw a punch or a kick and Jim would react. It wasn't bad, though. Jim threw a few punches, Spock corrected him, and he threw a few more. Spock was leading for the most part, directing the movement. Jim followed easily, body responding more naturally with each repetition. Spock kept the pace always just a bit faster than Jim was capable of doing perfectly. He understood exactly why.
He hadn't realized how quick they had gotten until he messed up. Spock struck a messy hit, shin against shin. Jim yelped hopping back and crouching down to cradle his shin in his hands.
"Ow."
"We will stop for now." Spock informed him, kneeling in front of him to look at his leg.
"I'm fine." Jim insisted. "That just stings. If I can't get used to a little pain then I can't fight."
"I believe it is quite clear you are more than adequate at ignoring your natural pain response." Spock raised an eyebrow. "You have proven yourself on numerous occasions to be capable of continuing a fight even in the event of injury. This is not something I have need of teaching you. We have been training for some time. It would be prudent to stretch your muscles and allow them to rest."
Jim nodded, pouting. "Fine."
"Do you require assistance with stretching?"
Jim flushed, shaking his head vigorously. No. He most definitely did not need Spock's hands all over his sweaty body, pushing him into contorting positions.
Spock proceeded with his own cool down and stretch out session without another word. Jim started his own, but soon found himself watching Spock again. It wasn't particularly conducive to actually properly stretching out. He was thinking he started to pick up a new hobby of Spock watching, though, because he couldn't peel his eyes away.
Actually...he had a whole chart that seemed to imply nothing was new about it. Fantastic. Along with all these evil emotion things, apparently he had developed an obsession with the way his first officer moved. And now that he already had it, he didn't have the first idea of how to get rid of it. It was like all of a sudden his brain was jumping up and down pointing at Spock going 'Oh! OH! How fucking fantastic is that? Did you see how he just raised his eyebrow there? How many emotions can a guy convey with just a quick flick of part of his face? Probe this right now James Kirk.'
Jim let out a whooping cough as he rather suddenly walked chest first into Spock's palm.
When had he started walking?
Spock was staring at him with a completely unreadable look in his eyes. "Captain, you can not follow me into the showers."
Jim blinked, looking around. The were in the locker room. The distinctly not empty locker room. Spock's hand felt like it was burning a hole through Jim's hoodie, but that was just ridiculous. Apparently Jim needed to stretch out better, because he felt like he was on fire, every muscle burning in anticipation. Well that was freaky.
Jim coughed, stepping back, but it only seemed to make his body feel even hotter. "Sorry. Wasn't paying attention to what I was doing."
"Indeed." Spock looked him over a moment.
It only lasted a moment, though. With one last lingering look Spock turned on his heel and entered one of the stalls. Jim stared at the door for a moment before storming off. Absently, he scooped up his clothes. He wasn't hanging around; he'd shower in his room.
… .. . .. …
Jim was sitting primly in his captain's chair, minding his own business, doing his paperwork. That was what good captains did when they were on duty. He had just pulled up his communications like he always did four hours into his shift. Maybe that was weird, but it was a habit he couldn't kick. Any real important notices from the admirals or anything special they had for a mission went through communications, but plenty of little things would get sent to him all the time. He flicked through the list, hesitantly ignoring the most recent message from Sam, because while he'd only sent a curt reply back, he didn't really want to find out if he had the control to read a message on the bridge.
Another message from his mother, labeled with the header 'So just how dexterous is he?' Jim did not find that funny at all. She kept sending him these completely innocent notes, or at least comparatively innocent, with horribly not innocent headers. The first time he'd nearly had a heart attack.
Jim froze when his eyes fell on the urgent message. It was bolded, listing off a string of words in the header saying it was an important correspondence from Starfleet. Jim gulped, wetting his lips a little as he opened it, feeling just a little paranoid. Urgent messages that weren't urgent enough to require an immediate contact were not good. Not good at all. His eyes flicked over it rapidly, and he could feel his hand ache as he gripped the PADD tighter.
No.
No. NO. NO. NO.
Jim stood, chucking his PADD at the main view screen in the same swift, all engrossing motion.
Everyone froze, turning to look at him with some mix of horror and awe. Jim could feel his teeth grit in his mouth and his nails were digging into his palm and he was biting his tongue and it didn't hurt.
"Captain-" Spock began, but he paused, taking in Jim's posture.
"Captain." Uhura took over. "What are your orders?"
Jim let out a bitter laugh; a dangerous, pained, feral laugh. "No orders. As you were."
And suddenly Rand was standing next to him, offering back his PADD and the last thing Jim wanted was his PADD. The last thing he wanted was to read that message again and again and again and he knew, god he knew he was going to read it for days. But he wanted...he wanted...
"Spock." Jim hissed, flashing his hurting blue eyes at his first officer.
Spock took that as his cue to approach, absently taking the PADD from Rand when she looked ready to throw it into Jim's chair and run. "Captain?"
Jim let out that disgusted laugh again, tired, frustrated. "We need to talk."
Spock raised an eyebrow before giving the controls to Sulu and stalking out of the room. His eyes had yet to fall to the PADD. Jim didn't give him permission. He didn't know what he would find there. Didn't know what had caused the emotional outburst. Jim grabbed his hand rather violently and headed for the turbolift.
Spock stared at him, marveling once again at Jim's complete impropriety.
Jim keyed in the deck for his room and released Spock's hand. He leaned back against the wall of the turbolift with a thunk, running both of his hands over his face. Spock was just standing there, holding the PADD and staring at him and Jim hated that, but he couldn't get his throat muscles to work. It was tight, burning. Jim wanted to laugh, because this had to be some joke. Wanted to cry out in frustration. Wanted Spock to make it better, because he always knew how to make everything better.
Jim launched himself from the lift as the doors opened. Spock followed silently, PADD still behind his back, patient. They entered Jim's room silently, and he was remotely glad that Rand had seen fit to clean up the piles of clothes off his floor. Spock was waiting.
Jim turned and was almost floored by the intensity of the expression in those brown eyes. His breath caught in his throat, and Jim felt so guilty, so damn guilty. How could he ever make this right? How could he ever hope to fix the mistake that his own stupidity, his own pride had caused? Why couldn't he go back in time and shake himself by the shoulders, tell himself to open his eyes and throw charts and PADDs and anything to make himself see that he wasn't alone, had never been alone, before he ruined everything?
"Jim?" Spock dropped all pretense of formality, now that they were in private. "We are still on duty."
Jim choked out a laugh, wanted to sob instead. "I screwed up."
Spock took an aborted step forward, and a small part of him registered that Spock never moved without intent. "May I inquire as to what has alarmed you, Captain?"
Captain. It was safe. There was nothing out of control about a captain. Not like Jim. Not like the man who's eyes must have been wild. Jim wanted to scoff, wanted to tell him it was a little too late. But he didn't. He snorted out a deep breath, righted himself. That was right. This wasn't about him. Not about Jim. This was about Captain Kirk and Commander Spock.
"I've received a formal warning that's going to go into both of our files." Jim announced.
Spock glanced down at the PADD in his hand. "What is the justification for this reprimand?"
Jim straightened, the captain coming forward naturally, that instinct to protect his crew filling him. "I'm being cited for undisclosed fraternization and unapproved relations with a crew member. I can only assume they're throwing the same accusations at you."
Spock straightened. "This is illogical."
"Over a month." Jim corrected. "According to Starfleet we have four weeks to disclose a relationship. We are only receiving a reprimand because it wasn't that far off. According to them, we broke regulation and because an outside source reported it they have no choice but to make an example of us. The nice bureaucratic words they throw into reprimands to pretend they're sorry for them, but because of me this is on your record."
"Do not, Jim." Spock stopped him with a single look. "I should have taken into consideration the regulations when determining the date to ascribe to our relationship. I am responsible by causing this duplicity, in any event. Also-silence Jim-Also, though you were the one to propose it, our further deception was solely to my benefit. I apologize for the repercussions I have again caused you."
Jim growled, yanking the PADD from Spock's hand and throwing it to the bed somewhere behind him. He did not like being silenced. "I'm a captain, Spock. I know better. I should have known better. Fuck...nothing good ever comes of relationships with your crew."
Spock tensed, gripping Jim's chin and forcing him to meet his eyes. "Do not speak in such a manner, Jim."
Jim froze. Spock was touching him. Spock was touching him. He could feel pure anger and frustration coursing through those fingers. Spock was touching him and Jim felt like he was burning up. Spock's eyes were as black as space and he was touching him and Jim felt like he was caught in the middle of a sun. Jim was on fire and he was frozen in place and Spock was touching him. Spock's grip was so firm, conveying more anger, more something then Jim could process. And Jim felt like he was burning to a crisp, blackening under the pure-black-normally-brown eyes and that look was so hot and Jim felt like he'd been shoved out an airlock because he was frozen and he couldn't breath.
Spock ripped his fingers away and Jim could swear they had been melted into his skin because it felt like Spock had taken a chunk of him when he pulled back.
Spock's nostrils flared and his eyes were still so dark, too dark. "I will hear nothing of this topic again."
Jim didn't like being silenced. "If you didn't care about me then I wouldn't be ruining your career."
He just couldn't keep his mouth shut, could he? No, he was angry and scared and guilty and Spock was telling him what to do. And Spock was still staring at him like that and Jim couldn't think. He felt almost feverish, hot, but he was shivering with the intensity of it and the rage. What was Spock doing to him?
"You are a fool James Kirk." Spock managed to say so much, to have such a serious inflection, without it ever reaching his voice.
Jim pushed forward, into his space. Spock had pulled back because he didn't want to touch him, couldn't touch him. Not then. Not when he was holding down his emotions, keeping even the bond from touching those emotions. Jim had always had a certain skill set. His blue eyes were wide. He wasn't going to let Spock mollify him. Wasn't going to pretend it was okay and take the easy way out.
"Enlighten me." He ground out, for a moment every bit the cadet he echoed.
"My career is undamaged." Spock took a step back, more in control. "Further, if you can not understand why a member of your crew, why I, would choose to risk my career to save your life, then you are truly blind Captain."
"Then enlighten me." Jim demanded. "Why do you care? Why did you ever care?"
Spock blinked, slowly. His patience must have been thin, the kind of ice Jim shouldn't be treading. "You are my friend."
"Bullshit." Jim snarled. "You don't know me. You don't know me."
"I know more than you, apparently." Spock turned to leave.
Jim grabbed him, hard. "Do you think that's funny?"
Spock rounded on him, grabbing his shoulders firmly, face emotionless and eyes snapping with something indescribable. "There is nothing humorous about your actions Jim."
Jim couldn't breath. Couldn't think. Spock's voice melted something inside him, sent those curls of heat deeper. Spock's fingers flexed against Jim's arms and through the anger and confusion, Jim felt something unfurl inside him. Something deep and dark responded to the heat Spock created in him.
"Spock..."
Spock threw him back, hard. Jim yelped as he bounced against the bed, feeling the PADD digging into his back. For a moment Spock seemed to loom over him, dark eyes deeper than the universe itself. Spock was gone, out the door before Jim's brain could reboot. Jim sucked down icy air, feeling like it was the first thing he had been able to breath in a very long time. It was like cold water washing over a burn inside his throat and chest, almost painful.
Who was Spock to tell him he couldn't feel guilty? Jim had gotten a permanent mark on both of their records, small as it was. All because he'd gotten drunk and nearly gotten himself killed on a Starbase because...because he was an idiot. Because he couldn't look his crew in the eyes, because he found it easier to just pretend he didn't interact with them at all. Because if he wasn't attached then it was simply professional sympathy when someone died and no one would feel like he betrayed them or let them down. Because friends didn't let people with families die. Because if they didn't expect any better from him, if they didn't rely on him, then he could pretend he hadn't failed them.
Jim wanted to feel sorry for himself. Wanted to whine that it wasn't fair. But that was what had gotten him into that mess in the first place.
Jim stood up, taking a deep breath and straightening himself out. There are no no-win scenarios, Kirk. Pull yourself together. You've got this.
His pep-talk did not help near as much as he had hoped. Not in the slightest. He couldn't just hide in his room though. He was the captain. He was responsible for his crew. And he needed to have a much better conversation with Spock once he wasn't feeling so completely pissed off. He should have known better, really. He was pissed and he knew he didn't think straight when he was angry.
Jim snagged his PADD, looking down again at the dreaded correspondence. It didn't matter. There was nothing more they could do. He and Spock were officially in a relationship according to the paperwork. Jim was never filling that stuff out again, and Spock sure as hell better not start lying and saying he was dating other people, so this was the last their records would see of it.
It didn't occur to Jim, until he was sitting down in the command chair, that his brain was doing that thing where it made decisions without consulting him. Apparently it had decided not only did he randomly get engaged to his first officer, he stayed that way. He fought down a blush and distinctly didn't glance over at his extremely tense first officer. The rest of the crew, however, seemed to have their eyes just about everywhere but on their work. Damn gossips.
Damn Spock for making him feel so guilty.
Jim pulled up the messenger on his PADD, hesitating only for a moment. 'Sorry.' Just one word.
It took an excruciatingly long time for Spock to respond. Jim had started to think he was intentionally being ignored.
'I accept your apology.' … 'Are you uninjured?'
Jim smirked a little. 'Not the first time I've been thrown down on a bed.'
'That does not answer my question, Jim.'
'I'm fine. Honest.' He peered down at it for a moment, considering what to say next. 'I am sorry though.'
'You have already indicated as much.'
'Why do you put up with me when I'm such a jerk?' Oops. Hadn't he planned on having this conversation in private? Instead, he was fidgeting in his seat on the bridge, distracting Spock, and probably about to start another fight between them. Good job Jim, good job.
The response was even slower to come than the first. 'Because I enjoy your company.'
Jim wanted to make a smart-ass comment about enjoyment being illogical. To tease Spock relentlessly for actually liking him, even when he was a jerk. Anything to stop the warmth pooling in the corners of his eyes. It was just that easy for Spock. It didn't matter that Jim wasn't perfect, that he screwed up and didn't even know they were friends, because that was just Jim being Jim. And he liked that.
'Can I' Jim tried not to swear as it sent the message when he was trying to delete it.
'I do not understand your query.'
Jim didn't groan, but it was a close thing. 'Never mind. I was going to rephrase it, but I sent it on accident. It wasn't important.'
It wasn't. Honestly. He wasn't just about to ask for a hug. He wasn't that weird. And Spock making him feel utterly appreciated in a completely weird way did not make him all touchy-feely. He didn't do touchy-feely. Not in the slightest. He didn't get so emotional over someone liking him for him that he wanted to hug and stuff. That was something little boys and teenage girls did...well...and him when he was drunk. But only with Bones. And only when Bones was drunk too. And only around Jim or Joanna's birthday.
Jim much preferred being sad on Joanna's birthday, because then he didn't feel so pathetic.
Digression. Jim looked back down at his PADD when it made a sound at him. Spock had responded.
'I understand that humans are often prone to censoring themselves. This is unnecessary, however.'
"Uh...Captain?" Jim snapped his head up to look at Sulu.
He blinked a couple times. "Yeah?"
Sulu grimaced, like he hadn't actually meant to speak. "You okay?"
Jim frowned. "Yeah, why?"
"Well..." Sulu glanced at Chekov, who sat up straighter.
"You vere hawing big smile." Chekov announced cheerily.
"Kind of a goofy grin, actually." Sulu said apologetically.
Jim flushed, turning off the messenger on his PADD. He coughed and drew himself up straight in his seat. "Ah. I'm fine. Don't worry about it."
Not embarrassed in the slightest.
… .. . .. …
"May I come in, Jim?"
Jim stepped out of his doorway, nodding dumbly. McCoy looked up from where he had been putting away his med kit, a frown on his face. Spock's eyebrow raised immediately at the sight of the Doctor. Jim rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, offering a seat to Spock wordlessly.
"Doctor McCoy." Spock greeted stiffly, not moving an inch.
"Spock." McCoy rose to his feet.
"Gee, isn't anyone going to say my name?" Jim huffed, folding his arms over his chest, not at all amused by their antics.
As if on cue, they both turned to him with looks describing exactly what they thought of his interruption "Jim-" And turned to each other with their own brand of horror as they realized what he just succeeded in.
Jim burst out laughing. "Much better!"
McCoy smiled, giving Spock a long-suffering look. "How are you Spock?"
"My health is adequate." Spock nodded, relaxing ever so slightly. "Is your own health acceptable?"
"Yeah." McCoy stood up, popping his back as he did. "Just double checking Jim's hands. Apparently they were giving him some trouble earlier. That and he has a rather suspicious set of bruises on his arms."
Spock flushed, green high on the apples of his cheeks. McCoy, seeing him thoroughly chastised for his purposes, smirked. Jim had the decency to look embarrassed. The look Bones had given him when he first stripped his shirt off and showed the purple-black hand prints had been a little terrifying. He immediately started asking what he had done to Spock to deserve that.
After a few moments of shouting himself blue, he proceeded to blush furiously and ask Jim if there was something he needed to tell him about his relationship with 'the hobgoblin'. Jim sputtered and cawed for a few minutes, completely unable to form a coherent thought in protest to that. Slowly, a shit eating grin spread across Bones' face and he burst out laughing. Apparently it had been too good of a joke to resist. Jim wasn't laughing. Nor was he laughing when Bones told him to live with the bruises. They just might remind you to treat him a little better, McCoy muttered absently, clearly still too amused. Like that made any sense.
"What was that you said, Jim? Something about him throwing you on your bed?" McCoy tutted, managing to keep a straight face, though it was a near thing. "I thought I said I didn't want details..."
"You seem to be harboring the erroneous assumption that Jim and I engaged in sexual activity while on duty." Spock bit back, having schooled himself into a particularly snarky raised eyebrow. "I assure you we would do no such thing while we should be on shift."
McCoy practically leered he had such a narrowed look filled with glee. "Am I in the way?"
"Knock it off!" Jim shouted, face hurting it burned so much.
They both turned to look at him, blinking like they had forgotten he was in the room. Considering it was his room, that was particularly awkward. Jim briefly wondered if you could get second degree burns from blushing, because he felt like it. McCoy shrugged apologetically, still smirking. Spock was an odd pale viridian color.
"I apologize Jim. It was not my intent to embarrass you, or imply that our relationship was sexual in nature." Spock's voice sounded so utterly stiff and flat as to be almost scary.
Jim tried not to choke on his saliva, gulped awkwardly, and turned his head so he didn't have to look at Spock. "What the heck is that, even?"
McCoy snorted. "Oh come on. I tease you all the time."
Jim opened his mouth to protest and froze. Oh. Was he so blind he couldn't even see that Bones had gotten to the point where he was comfortable teasing Spock? He knew there was nothing there and it was all a lie. So the teasing didn't mean anything. It was just giving him hell for having come up with such a ridiculous lie. And Spock...joking back. Implying there was more to it than just the lie because it was funny. Jim buried his face in his hands, groaning and leaning back against the wall to his room.
"I'll figure this out eventually." Jim warned from behind his fingers. "Just you wait. You'll be sorry when I finally can understand it when you talk to each other."
"I have no doubt captain."
McCoy burst out laughing. Jim blinked for a moment, before frowning. "Oh really? And just what part of that don't you doubt?"
"Please clarify your inquiry."
"Uh huh." Jim crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes without any real malice.
"I suppose I should head out." McCoy picked up hid bag, smirk still lingering across his lips. "Stretch your hands. I don't need to deal with you again because your hands are so stiff you can't grip a stylus."
Jim rolled his eyes. "Thanks Bones. I'll talk to you later."
"Tomorrow maybe." McCoy glanced at Spock. "Be good. And have a good night."
"You too Bones." Jim mutter the exact same time Spock started speaking. "You as well Doctor."
He glanced between them before shaking his head. With a last wave over his shoulder, McCoy was out the door. Jim shifted his weight from foot to foot for a moment, not really sure where to begin. He almost wished McCoy was back in the room because it was marginally less awkward. Then he remembered what they had been talking about and had to struggle to keep the blush down.
"So...uh...did you need something?" Jim tried.
Spock turned to him, and for a split second Jim felt maybe Spock hadn't been joking, because those pure-black eyes were so harsh on him. Jim wasn't used to anyone looking at him like that if they didn't plan on devouring him. He blushed and the intensity eased. Spock glanced away, and when he looked back his eyes were almost chocolate.
"It had been my intent to pursue the conversation we were engaged in on the bridge." Spock paused there, not finding what he was looking for in Jim's face. "I shall refrain from questioning you further on the matter. I have overstepped my bounds."
Jim hesitated. Spock was still standing there, so stiff. He looked like he'd already been rebuffed. Jim didn't want to talk about what he had been about to ask him. Because that went back to asking for hugs and that was so sappy. Also, paranoid as it was, Jim wasn't so sure he wanted Spock's arms around him just that second. There was way too charged an air between them. It seemed most likely that Spock was still annoyed at him and trying not to let it show. Jim felt his lips twitch up slightly at the thought that he really was below his shields.
"I've never heard you play your lute." Jim flinched at the eyebrow he got, wondering if maybe he'd just said something wrong.
"Indeed."
Jim chuckled at his flat tone, before a big grin split his face. "Are you trying to imply there's a reason for that?"
"I am in no way attempting to imply anything, Jim." Spock said with that little coquettish look in his eyes that begged for his words to be scrutinized just a little more closely.
Jim felt like the floor had gone out under him. "Spock...I..."
"Yes Jim?" Spock asked a bit too quickly.
"I'm sorry." Jim whispered, feeling like his voice was trying to choke him.
"I am aware of this."
Jim stepped a bit closer, wondered how he managed to get back to this thought. "Can I...C-could..."
Spock hesitated for a moment, looking like he didn't know what to do. He didn't know where to begin. Jim felt the slightest nudge, a soft brush, like Spock were just barely touching the shield erected between them. Jim wanted to touch back, wanted to pull Spock into him. A hell of a hug, he had thought.
Spock dropped the shield.
Jim rushed into his chest, felt the strong band of his arms wrap fiercely around his waist and shoulders. He couldn't help but shudder. He felt like he was freezing. His fingers ached, clutching Spock's shirt hard enough to strain the fabric. Spock's hands were firm on him, his mind only barely brushing against Jim's, only as much as the bond could offer. Jim shifted, brought his arms up to loop around Spock's neck. He pressed his forehead to Spock's, wanted closer.
"I need you in my head." Jim croaked hoarsely.
"Yes Jim." Spock murmured, shifting, pressing his temple to Jim's.
It was a shallow meld, entirely unlike any other time they had touched. It was still there, the thrum of their bond so deep they couldn't even reach it from where they were. It was an undercurrent of emotion, a deep vein flowing somewhere under, through their connection. Their meld was just enough that they could share the faintest impression their thoughts. Just enough that Jim felt like he was in a feedback loop.
Spock's thoughts were orderly, a maze of walls, each thought built precisely. Jim's own flowed like water. They washed away at the structure that contained it. Even so, even as their minds were in different states, they were of the same matter.
Jim was, for a moment, contented.
Jim could feel the reluctance deep in the bond, even as Spock thought they should pull away. Jim thought in laughter, radiated amusement completely. Spock had a brief thought, an impression that this was Jim.
A moment later he eased the shield back between them. Jim could still feel the impression of thoughts ghosting in his mind. There was an impression of a thought, again, but it only frustrated Jim. He felt Spock shift against him, almost like he were nuzzling closer. Spock's thought's clarified, he focused.
"It is difficult to communicate like this." The thought wasn't well focused, seemed to waver in and out and at times was so soft as to be more of an echo than a direct thought.
"Cool."
Slowly, in a physical display of reluctance, Spock pulled back. The sensation of their minds brushing finally faded. Jim blinked slowly, opening his eyes and leaning back just enough to focus. Spock's eyes were wide, filled with a wonder he usually reserved for scientific exploration. Jim couldn't help but like having that intensity and amazement directed at him. It was a good kind of attention, something that hinted maybe he was worth observing.
"Jim." Spock's voice held a hint of strain, just the slightest rougher sound.
"Spock." Jim was breathless, blue eyes dancing.
"Is this what you desired?" Spock had righted himself and was offering a single eyebrow quirk.
"Hmm." Jim shifted a little in the circle of his arms, cocked his head to the side and pouted playfully. "Well...I suppose it'll have to do."
"I see." Spock replied flatly, flexing his grip.
Jim beamed, but it faltered a second later. "This has got to be weird for you."
"It is...a singularly new experience." Spock eyed the crestfallen look in Jim's eyes a moment. "I believe it will require extensive observation and experimentation to determine the peculiar nature of it."
"Oh." Jim hummed softly. "You have your hand on my lower back again."
"Indeed? I do not know the significance of this."
"It's where you put your hand, when I was drunk." Jim strummed his fingers against the back of Spock's neck, considering something. "Did I ever thank you properly for that?"
"You apologized and 'made it up to me', but I do not recall any official expression of gratitude. It is unnecessary, Jim."
Jim snorted. "Of course it is. Completely illogical. That doesn't mean I don't want to say it anyway."
"Jim..." Spock almost looked like he wanted to smirk. "It is unnecessary, because you are here. I will admit the decision to save your life was in some small part entirely selfish."
Jim's breath hitched, and he hoped Spock didn't notice. "Just couldn't live without me?"
"I have no desire to give up my position as Science Officer to Captain the Enterprise." Spock replied curtly.
Jim stared at him a moment, before the joke sank in. He laughed heartily, allowing Spock to hold up his weight. There was that lack of balance and humor thing in play again, but Jim was willing to ignore it. When Jim finally regained control, he found his face was buried in the crook of Spock's neck, who was standing just a bit more stiffly. Jim figured he had worn out his welcome in the other man's arms and started to pull back. Spock held him just a moment longer before cleanly vacating his area. He was blushing faintly. Well that wouldn't do.
"So, about this throwing me on my bed..."
Spock's ears darkened and he shot Jim a surprised look. Jim laughed again, slapping his arm playfully. Spock only relaxed marginally, his eyes still strangely tense. "You are teasing me."
Jim shrugged a little. "Well, if you get to joke, so do I. Maybe I'll even get you to laugh one day."
"Unlikely."
"Not going to quote probabilities at me?"
"I do not believe you would find them favorable." Spock cocked his head ever so slightly to the side. "You seem to believe that not hearing the probability would somehow affect the likelihood of the event you desire."
"It works, doesn't it?" Jim drew himself up straight, just a little bit of captain bleeding through.
"...I have observed that you tend towards your desired outcome, regardless of statistical likelihood, more than is statistically considered normal."
Jim grinned. "So that's a yes. Now tell me Spock...wouldn't that give you even more reason to tell me the statistics?"
Spock's look seemed to level just a bit more challengingly on Jim. "I look forward to your future displays of wit."
Jim brought his hand up to cover his smile, trying for a contemplative look. He glanced over at the chronometer on his desk and swore.
"How did it get that late?"
"I apologize. I will depart." Spock turned on his heel, heading for the door.
"Spock!" Jim declared sharply, grabbing his arm.
They both blinked at each other for a very long moment. Jim coughed awkwardly, because he wasn't sure why he grabbed him like that. His hand didn't want to work, though, and he couldn't quite convince it to let go. Spock was giving him an very odd look, miniscule as it was. Jim reached up with his free hand and fixed Spock's hair, which had become mussed at some point during their interactions. After another second, Jim managed to let go of him just long enough to get his hand back. He locked it behind his back with the other one.
"Can't have you go out there looking any less than perfect." Jim smiled sheepishly. "Goodnight."
"Thank you." Spock considered him for a moment. "I believe the Terran phrase is 'sleep tight'."
With that he was out the door. Jim was momentarily dumfounded. Then he spent a few good minutes swearing at his own impulse control. His hand was completely betraying him. Dirty traitor was probably taking orders from his brain. If he didn't nip it in the bud, it would be a complete mutiny. What, exactly, was the objective of said mutiny he didn't know, but it was there all the same.
Jim flopped into the seat at his desk grumbling. He had a plan, before his hand locked up and he had to call Bones.
Now he pulled his messages up on his personal computer. Same ones as before. He decided he would postpone a little longer and opened his mother's message.
.. ..
Hey baby boy,
I totally expect an answer to that question eventually. Still, I can't believe you've been in a relationship for over a month. Stop scowling. I know you're scowling. (He was.) You know I have a bit of a point. I'm glad for you. Don't go ruining it just to spite me. It seems like you have a good thing going for you right now and even though you don't want to hear me say it I'm rooting for you.
You've really grown up. I'm hearing all over the news feeds about the good work you're doing. I'm willing to believe he's probably had a hand in this new found maturity. Maybe even a bit more than a hand, hm? I'm serious about that dexterity. I also heard a rumor he's a linguist for fun. Good tongues those linguists.
You should call me some time. Soon, preferably. I want to actually talk to him. No threats or anything, I promise. I won't even embarrass you all that much. I just want to meet the boy that's so utterly wonderful as to get your attention. Even more impressive, he must be stubborn as all hell to keep you. Don't pretend you can't be completely bullheaded. You are a Kirk. I can only imagine how he keeps up with you. Actually, that's another thing I would love to hear about. How does he keep up? Or does he have to hold back because of that Vulcan strength? Are you always Captain or are you more of a cadet with him?
I've got to keep this short, so I'll just leave this here. ;D Talk to you soon.
Winnie
.. ..
Jim chuckled softly, though his face was burning a bit.
Mom.
No. Just...no. I do not want you to meet him yet. I think you'll scare him off. No jokes about me doing that already. He's a bit odd about parents. I don't know how it will go and I don't want to offend him or something. I will talk to him about it though, so you can't say I didn't even try.
He is pretty stubborn. I guess there's something about people who are drawn to the Kirk family. Mom. I'm pretty sure I got all my stubbornness from you. Thank you very much.
And really mom? You don't think maybe my sex life is kind of my own business? What kind of mom asks about her son's sexual escapades? Besides, we aren't sleeping together.
Kirk out.
Yes, he was completely fine with ending it that way. No he didn't feel guilty about still lying to his mother about being in a relationship. No. Not in the slightest. Even if her new found assurances in his maturity were based off of a lie. She would be proud of him even if he weren't in a relationship. So it didn't matter at all. Not in the slightest.
Jim growled, punching up his brother's message. At least Sam would make him blindly angry, rather than guilty. He already scoffed at the header 'Jimmy'. How cute. It was a video message.
Sam's face popped up on his screen, looking marginally less scruffy than the time before. His eyes were tired, sorrowful. He gulped, cleared his throat and didn't smile. After a few seconds he shook his head and sighed. When he looked back up, his gray-green eyes were a little firmer, though no less hurt.
"I can't make things right between us Jim. No matter how hard I try." He sounded exhausted. "That doesn't mean I'm not going to. But I know I can't force you to forgive me. And you're right, I am sending you video messages because they are a whole hell of a lot more sympathetic than writing. I figured I would need all of the sympathy points I could get from you. You might just sit through this, even if it makes you angry."
He sighed, looking away from the camera again. "I'm tired, Jim. I'm tired of running."
Sam turned back, a soft smile on his face. "I messed up pretty bad. No matter how I spin it, I was a terrible big brother. I'm just asking for a second chance. I did wrong by you. And I didn't contact you, when you became a captain, because I didn't think you would want to hear from me...but Jim...I don't care that you're mad. I can't just be an absentee brother anymore. I can't handle that."
Sam gulped, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. After a shaky breath, he continued. "I don't want to miss this, Jim. I've missed so much in your life. I don't know a thing about you. I'm more of a stranger than the girl on the video feed telling me about your latest escapades. I didn't get to be a part of your life and I regret that more than anything. That, not leaving, is what I regret. I regret not being there to hear about your first crush, not helping you pick out a tux for prom, not listening to you gush about your first kiss...I regret not being there for you. I'm not going to get that back, but I won't miss this."
His voice cracked, and he coughed. "I want to be here with you Jim. I want to hear all about it. I want to listen to you gush about the little look he saves just for you. I want to hear about when you first realized you liked him. Was is a gradual thing or did it just hit you one day? I want to know what he does that drives you nuts, and what he does that gets butterflies going in your stomach. I want to hear about the first time you realized he liked you back. And yeah, I want to hear about how he takes your breath away. And whether he's an amazing kisser or if it's awkward and adorable and you have to take it slow. I want to hear stories about the cute things he does and completely denies. I want to be here when you're frustrated and you need someone to talk to and I want to be there when you can't stop gushing and you're so red. I messed up Jim, and I cheated myself out of the chance to be your big brother. I know I have no right to ask you, but please..."
The tears in his eyes finally spilled over in a single splash of hot remorse. "Please let me back into your life. Please be my baby brother again."
Sam gulped, didn't try to dry his face. He simply looked down, shaking his head a little. He shut the recording off without looking back up. It was jarring when the screen went black.
Jim sat back in his chair, his hand covering his mouth. He wanted to be angry. Wanted to scream about how selfish it was for Sam to ask that of him. He wanted to stop feeling so guilty. On top of everything, he felt guilty, because Sam was wrong. There was nothing between him and Spock, there was no opportunity for him to try again. That stupid guilt was making it hard for him to feel quite as self-righteous as he wanted to. So much for the blind rage he had been hoping for.
Jim didn't want to respond immediately, because he knew he's probably break down and he wanted to be angry for a little while longer.
His eyes fell to the message that had ruined his day, more or less. Urgent it beamed at him. Starfleet was telling him it was important. He hesitated only a moment, considered the man he'd been the past year, isolating himself and missing a whole universe around him because he was afraid. With the resolve of a Captain, he deleted it.
… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …
Soon there will be more action, more awkwardness, and more confrontation. Look out for Sulu trying to help, Scotty trying to get out of the way, Chekov being Chekov, and Uhura setting her devious plans in motion. All that and more, next time.
Oh. And the Binary.
01110000 01100101 01110010 01101101 01101001 01110011 01110011 01101001 01101111 01101110 0100000 01110100 01101111 0100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01100101 0100000 01100001 01100010 01101111 01100001 01110010 01100100 -Permission to come aboard