I don't own Star Trek.
… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …
Jim sauntered through the cafeteria, smiling and waving as he greeted his crew. He felt awesome. Significantly better, he was willing to bet, than Scotty was feeling. He spotted Bones eating with Uhura and Spock and jogged over. Best let the doctor know quickly that his hypos were going to be needed. Then food. McCoy sighed, a look of exasperation on his face as he saw Jim coming over. That was hardly fair.
Jim flung himself against Spock's back. "Morning guys. Bones, Scotty went overboard last night drinking. You might want to hypo him and check his liver."
Spock was extremely stiff, not moving. "Captain."
"Not on shift yet." Jim reminded, reaching down and stealing a peace of fruit from his plate. "Sorry about just cutting out like that last night. Turns out it really was a good idea for me to go down there. Apparently our eighteen year old navigator can't hold his liquor."
"It is of no consequence. Please remove yourself from my person." Spock responded sharply.
Sharp enough that Jim felt a stabbing pain as his heart missed a beat. "Spock?"
"Captain." Spock twisted his shoulders, extricating himself from Jim's arms easily.
It hurt. "What the fuck?"
Spock turned slowly to look at him, eyebrow raised. "Captain?"
Jim trembled, breath momentarily shaking as something shifted in him. "Oh, so it's okay if she touches you in public and kisses you but me touching your shoulder is too much?"
Uhura straightened in alarm when Jim gestured to her. His voice was dangerous and cold and for a second she felt like she was in danger. But it wasn't her that his anger was directed at. She felt McCoy's hand on her wrist. He was tense, looking like he wanted to stand. From the corner of her eye, Uhura could see Sulu standing, utter confusion on his face. Jim wasn't being quiet.
"I will not discuss this with you in public." Spock uttered flatly.
"In public or at all?" Jim snarled. "I'll see you on the bridge."
Jim turned on his heel, and everyone in the surrounding area flinched back. He stormed out the door, boiling over with anger. The cafeteria was utterly silent. Spock was staring silently at the doors, face impassive. He turned back to his food though, and that only seemed to make the tension in the room rise. He wasn't going after Jim.
Uhura let out a shaky breath, glanced at Sulu and then McCoy. That...that was terrifying. She had to quell her initial instincts, though, because they were screaming for her to do something, for her to make things right. Not just hers, but McCoy and Sulu's as well. They wanted, almost immediately, to fix the rift they just watched tear open between their friends, but then logic came in. Jim and Spock weren't in a relationship. There was nothing to fix. Maybe they had forgotten themselves, that there was nothing there. They'd gotten so used to the idea, to acting like it were the truth, that they just accepted it as fact. This was just Jim, starting the progress to set things right, setting seeds of discord so people would understand, believe that it was over. They couldn't fix that, because that was what they were supposed to be helping him do. To end it.
Uhura's stomach hurt.
… .. . .. …
Jim wasn't really sure why he was angry. He caught a quick breakfast, on his way to the bridge, trying to sort it out. He knew Spock didn't do public displays, and he wasn't sure why he brought Uhura up at all. He had just...reacted, somehow. It had shaken him, being so mad at Spock for no reason.
He made his way to the bridge, still thinking it over. Spock didn't greet him when he went to his station. He could feel Uhura's eyes on his back. He knew he needed to apologize to her for his outburst. It wasn't right to drag her into...whatever was going on with him. He turned to her and made to stand, an apologetic look on his face and she shook her head, waving him down. She already knew. It didn't make what he'd done right, but it was good to know she had already forgiven him for it.
"Alright." Jim announced, standing to catch everyone's attention. "Minor milk run. We've got to visit a research outpost that needs their annual Starfleet prostate exam. Let's get out of here Sulu."
There were some laughs at his joke. Jim beamed at his crew, until his eyes fell on Spock's shoulders. He hadn't even bothered to turn and look at Jim. He shoved down the immediate annoyance, going back to his seat. Rather than dwell on it, Jim turned his immediate attention to his messages. Much of the usual, and a message from his brother. Upon inspection, he found it had the usual pleasantries. Jim glanced over at Spock and snorted angrily. If Sam wanted to play brother, then fine. Jim needed to rant and he didn't really care what Sam thought of him, in the long run.
..
Hey Sam,
You want to know how things are going? Horribly. I don't know what I'm doing. Fuck. One minute he's...I don't know, being nice? He was acting like he wanted to be near me and I guess I thought...I guess I thought maybe we were getting closer to each other. But then...
Maybe I'm out of my mind. Nothing's changed. I'm just...clingy all of a sudden. I don't want to start asking for more from him, I don't even know what the heck more is, but all of a sudden, I'm getting agitated and feel like it isn't enough. I guess? It's hard to explain. It's like, suddenly I'm expecting shit. I'm not that guy. I don't want to be that guy.
I don't think I can do this.
Kirk out.
..
Jim sent the message with some hesitation. It didn't say near enough, and yet it felt like too much. He didn't even know what he was expecting, hoping, to get back. Pity? Admonishment? Some kind of advice about what to do next? What could Sam possible do but offer empty words hoping things turned out all right? The most that was going to happen was an awkward call from his mother in a few days trying to help because Sam couldn't keep his mouth shut. Never could when it came to Jim.
He was still sifting through paperwork when lunch rolled around. Jim dismissed the crew absently, waiting for their replacements before he got up. He felt someone at his shoulder and glanced up to see Spock leaving the bridge, his hands tight fists at his back. Jim nodded to the replacement crew and jogged up to Sulu. It was important to hang out with the rest of his command crew, especially if he wanted to figure out this whole 'friend' thing he was going into. He'd been neglecting him, and Chekov. Everything else aside, they believed they were his friends, and Jim was willing to make that a reality, if they still wanted it.
No contact with Spock. That was fine by him.
Jim wasn't expecting to run into Spock at the end of their shift. Not literally anyway. Spock stepped back, so Jim had a bit harder of a time catching his balance. Several people were trying to watch. Jim just wanted to leave, so he glared up at Spock, arms folded across his chest. Jim wasn't going to budge first.
"Are you prepared for your lesson?"
Jim twitched. Damn. He'd forgotten all about that. He could get out of it. Spock wouldn't push him if he said he wasn't going to fight him. That wasn't gong to fix things. Not in the slightest. Besides, Spock was doing it as a favor to him. Jim took a deep calming breath, considered his options. From a diplomatic position, there wasn't much he could do, at this point, but see where Spock was going to go next. Spock's move was ambiguous. Jim could react, or he could bide his time and see where Spock was going with it. He ran the risk of making it worse if he reacted wrong. He also could put himself in a strategically poor position if he just let Spock direct their interactions. It was just too ambiguous though, and Jim wasn't willing to gamble on his intuition of what Spock was trying to do.
He nodded silently, still glaring.
Spock turned on his heel and Jim followed. Apparently they weren't going to talk just yet. That was fine. Jim was still trying to work out what he was going to say. Should he apologize? It sounded silly, but so did his complaints. Who cared if Spock didn't like touching him? He was just a friend. And yet the thought of Spock's arms around him when he was crying, so relieved that his crew was safe, kind of made it a big deal. It was the first time anyone had been there, after a tense situation. The first time Jim had a shoulder offered. Not even Bones knew how much it scared him when his crew was in danger. So maybe he thought their friendship meant a bit more than Spock did. Apparently Jim just couldn't get things right between them.
Jim was focused as he changed and stretched out. He still wasn't sure where he stood. He wanted to know before he presented any specific position to Spock.
Spock ordered the walls completely opaque, and Jim tensed. Spock just started directing him through the movements though. Jim was stiff, thrown off, not just because it had been a while. Spock had him completely off balance. And he wasn't doing anything with him there. He was going to loose his strategic position.
"Jim." One word was all the warning he got before his feet were swept out from under him and Jim found himself in the air.
One knee was resting against Spock's shoulder, like he was kneeling there. The other was trapped against Spock's chest by the arm he was using to support most of his weight, fingers pressed into his thigh. Jim's back was bent, Spock's other hand along the curve. Jim's arms were locked straight, his hands on Spock's shoulders, leaving him folded awkwardly over him. Spock's brown eyes were intense, staring up at him and revealing nothing of what he was thinking. Jim didn't feel like he could breath.
Spock shifted him, so Jim's knees were tucked just below his arms and both of his hands were tight on Jim's legs, supporting him easily against his chest. And then he was sliding down, and Spock was holding him so tight, still looking up at him with nothing visible in his eyes. And Jim's feet were only inches from the ground. Jim felt dizzy, dazed and his stomach was trembling inside.
"Jim." Spock breathed against his mouth and Jim found his arms turning to jelly.
He melted and Spock pressed him against the wall, kissing him. He nipped at Jim's lips, soothing them with gentle presses of his own. Jim sighed, eyes fluttering shut. Spock was a perfect gentleman about it, politely not sliding his tongue into Jim's open mouth. Jim was a bit less of a gentleman, tugging Spock closer by his ears. Spock bit harder on Jim's lower lip, sucking apologetically at marks he left when Jim's breath hitched with the slight pain.
And then Jim realized what he was doing.
He shoved Spock back forcefully, and was rewarded by being dropped on his tailbone. "What the-"
"I apologize for-"
"You kissed me!" Jim gasped, pressing his fingers to the over sensitized flesh of his mouth.
They both fell silent, staring at each other. Jim wanted to stand, because he was so confused and nervous that he needed to pace, but his legs still felt like jelly. He was panting and his legs were shaking. Spock was stiff, frozen in place like a statue. Jim didn't blame him.
"It had been my intent to apologize for my behavior this morning." Spock finally blurted out, and damn did it sound like a nervous declaration.
Jim laughed, because what the hell else could he do? "You? I'm the one who should apologize. What was that even about?"
"I do not know." Spock admitted. "But you were angered by my actions and I-"
"Spock." Jim raised his hand to stop him. "Spock. What right do I have to touch you? It's not...I'm sorry I was such a dick. I'm sorry I was asking so much. You didn't have to..."
"I had believed it would offer you some measure of comfort." Spock said quickly, voice tight.
"I...that's not...I've been acting really weird during this. I shouldn't have been kissing you. I shouldn't be touching you." Jim folded over on himself, resting his elbows on his knees and shoving his shaking hands in his hair. "You've already done so much for me and I've done nothing but take from this relationship. I have no right to ask you to put up with me. I don't even know what I'm doing here. I just-"
Jim shut up immediately, because Spock was kneeling in front of him, his hand firmly on his chin. "I do not agree with you."
Spock carded his fingers through Jim's hair, tangling their hands as he did and drawing them down. Jim couldn't hide the trembling in his hands as Spock squeezed his fingers gently. Jim dragged Spock's hand up, holding it against his cheek, pressing an awkward kiss to his knuckles. Spock let go of his chin, shifted his hand to the back of Jim's neck, down his shoulder, his arm, his wrist, until his fingers were ghosting over Jim's free hand.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Jim chanted, shaking his head.
Spock shut him up quite efficiently by hauling him to his feet. "I have informed you that I have no censure for your behavior, Jim. Do not apologize where no offense was taken."
Jim blushed and looked towards the ground sheepishly. "Still. I'll try to tone it down. No public displays."
… .. . .. ...
"Sam!" Jim chastised his computer screen. "It's about damn time!"
George Samuel Kirk gave his brother a look properly described as cautious, though the term left some of his alarm and confusion out. "Uh...Hi. Jim."
"Enough with the pleasantries." Jim flopped down, folding his arms over his chest. "I didn't call a Kirk family confab to chit chat."
Winona chuckled. "Why did you call?"
Jim took a deep breath, knowing it was too late to rethink this. "This is going to sound ridiculous, but I need your help seducing my boyfriend."
Sam started cackling and Winona started making a high pitched, excited sound. Jim rolled his eyes, glaring maturely at them. He couldn't exactly explain that that wasn't what he was really doing. He needed to know where they stood and the best way to do that was to throw Spock completely off balance. All teasing aside, there was something really weird with the way they handled each other and he knew the only surefire way to know what Spock was thinking was to get into his head when he wasn't quite in control. Jim's plan mostly consisted of throwing Spock off so bad he didn't question Jim spending the night and then getting Spock to meld with him in the morning when he was sleepy and distracted by Jim being his natural Jim self.
"Do you want to hear what I've got so far or are you just going to laugh?" Jim snapped.
Sam tried unsuccessfully to wipe the smirk off his face. "Yeah. Okay. Lay it on us."
Jim huffed. "Okay. Well, I know he likes my dark blue button down shirt, so I figured I'd wear that. I don't know his opinion on my jeans though."
"Wear the jeans." Winona declared immediately. "Unless you're trying for formal, wear jeans and make up for it with a tie."
Jim smirked. "Okay. Tie. Got that. I figured I'd probably wear my glasses too, he kind of stares when I wear them and I think maybe it throws him off his game."
Sam frowned. "Since when did you need glasses?"
"Reading glasses." Jim waved it off. "It's not that I need them, it just reduces the strain on my eyes when I'm working long hours. Can we get back to the point here?"
"How are you doing your hair?" Winona asked.
"Probably going for the 'you can't mess this up worse' look." Jim shrugged. "He's not the kind of guy who sees something so completely perfect and just has to mess it up. Which is probably a good thing because everytime I see him I just want to fuck up his hair."
"Oh my god." She agreed. "I thought I was the only one. Not to be creepy and muscling in on your territory, but I just wanted to mess up that silly bowl cut."
Sam laughed. "I've seen the pictures. Can't say I don't agree with you."
"Great." Jim rolled his eyes. "Now that we know wanting to mess up my boyfriend's hair is a family trait, can we move on? I haven't tied a tie in forever. What look am I going for? And how do I wear it?"
Jim spent the next hour talking with his family, making devious plans. Somehow, it felt great. He'd never really gotten a chance to bond with them. Eventually he was going to have to thank Spock for that. Thank Spock for saving his life, thank Spock for dragging him out of his tower, thank Spock for making him feel like a part of the Enterprise, thank Spock for making him feel like a part of his family again. He had a lot to thank Spock for. He'd get around to it, to a proper thank you that Spock really deserved.
But first Jim was going to get answers.
… .. . .. …
Sulu leaned on a wall, nodding to a few passing crew members. When he was sure they passed, he knocked three times on the locked door beside him. A second later, he knocked again. The door whooshed open and he slipped in. It shut behind him and re-locked. Uhura, Scotty and McCoy glanced up at him from various positions around the deserted observation deck. Chekov didn't bother looking up, playing with a PADD. As Sulu moved to sit on the couch next to him, everyone else closed in to form an impromptu circle.
"Alright lass." Scotty glanced sideways at Uhura. "What did ye call us here for?"
She locked his lips, glancing nervously at them. "Well, I have something I think we need to talk about. You guys are the only ones who know about what's going on between Kirk and Spock. I...I know this is going to sound crazy, but...I think Chekov is right."
"Oh thank god." Sulu breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought I was the only one."
Scotty shrugged. "The lad makes a good argument."
McCoy grimaced. "Okay. So now what? Even if they are developing...a thing for each other, what are we supposed to do? Stand around gossiping like hens? They seem to be doing just fine on their own with out any interference."
"But they're still trying to break up." Sulu pointed out. "What if they succeed and end up ruining their friendship?"
"Have you seen those two?" Bones snorted. "They won't break up. They've forgotten they aren't actually in a relationship. They'll just end up fixing it every time they try to break it off."
"Valid argument." Uhura agreed. "But that doesn't mean we can't do anything and everything to make it better. Now, clearly Chekov has proven to be a mastermind here so I think it's time we get a crash course on how we're going to make it painfully obvious that we are supporting this."
Chekov looked up, and turned his PADD so everyone could see. "This is plan..."
… .. . .. …
Jim skidded over to the table his command crew was sitting at, nearly toppling over as he tried to keep his tray from spilling. Spock's hand jackknifed out, steadying him immediately even as he continued focusing on his food. Jim slid in next to him and Spock skimmed his hand up his back before retrieving it. Jim missed the looks he got for that. When he glanced over, Uhura was chatting with Sulu, McCoy was scowling, and Scotty and Chekov were leaned over a PADD.
"Morning." Jim smiled. They threw a few off hand greetings and Jim rolled his eyes. "Be that way."
Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "How would you have them greet you Jim?"
Jim smirked, swallowing his food before he answered. "I don't know, more throwing themselves at my feet? I'm like a plant and attention is my sunshine; I need lavished with it."
Sulu snorted, painfully by the sound of it.
Spock cocked his head to the side. "I do not suspect it would be convenient or efficient for any crew member to position themselves at your feet Jim, especially as you are currently sitting."
Jim was not letting that one go. "Pretty sure I could show you a very convenient reason to be between your knees."
Bones didn't miss a beat, throwing Chekov's fork at Jim's head. "It is too early for that kind of teasing Jim."
He laughed, mostly because Chekov hadn't noticed his fork was missing. "Don't hate because it took you so much longer than me to figure out how to push his buttons."
"I ain't aiming for the same buttons as you." McCoy glanced up, one eyebrow poised to attack. "I'm also not the one with my hand on the hobgoblin under the table."
Jim frowned and oh! Hello. How did his hand get on Spock's thigh? Spock was ignoring him, so it was probably there longer than it should have been too. He pulled it back covertly, not at all winning with his blush. Sulu and Uhura had stopped their conversation and were staring at them. Chekov was grinning ear to ear in a way Jim really didn't like. Scotty...was still looking at his PADD like nothing was happening.
Jim turned his attention to his food, and waited for the awkwardness to dissipate. He kept his free hand on the table, though, so no one could comment on that again, and so his hand couldn't try to mutiny and decide Spock's person was so much better than his own.
When everyone had returned to their conversations, Jim turned his attention to Spock. "Hey, I was wondering if we could talk tonight? After our shift."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Affirmative."
Jim scowled. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I am unsure as to why you have asked permission."
Jim pouted. "You know, sometimes I acknowledge that you do things with your time other than humor me. It's considered polite to ask before you monopolize someone's time."
"Fascinating." Spock's eyebrow was smirking at him again.
Jim returned to his food with an exaggerated sigh. "Whatever. And wear something casual."
"Casual?" Spock raised both eyebrows.
"Not your uniform?" Jim shook his head. "I know you have things other than your uniform in your room to wear. Mostly because Rand can be a bit of a creeper, but that's besides the point. Which, by the way, I think you should dress down in public on occasion so the yeomen on my ship stop asking me if I've been leaving clothes in your room."
Uhura snorted. "Tell me she didn't."
"She did." Jim sighed. "She genuinely asked me how long I had been keeping my clothes in his room before we started dating. I was like 'um...what?' So she tells me he's got non-regulation clothes in there and that she didn't want to move them back to my room in case we were doing this 'sharing a drawer' thing and I didn't know if I could laugh at that or not."
Spock was giving him that look, and Jim wasn't to sure it was all that fair because it wasn't his fault. "Highly illogical."
"Yeah." Jim snorted. "Anyway. Casual. More casual anyway."
"Why do ye need the lad to be casual?" Scotty asked absently.
Jim narrowed his eyes. "Because I asked. Mind your own business."
Scotty shrugged. "Wouldn't be a bad idea to leave some of yer clothes with him, though, if ye plan on spending any more nights in the lad's room."
Jim choked on his food, giving Scotty a horrified look. Spock glanced up, surprised. No one else was moving, until Bones decided Jim was choking too long and moved to check on him. Jim wheezed, trying to convey his current hatred for Scotty and not succeeding. Spock decided he wasn't going to draw further attention to his statements and opted not to join the commentary. By the time Jim had finished coughing and McCoy was convinced he hadn't aspirated his food, Spock was done and ready to go. He paused as he was cleaning up, turning to regard Jim.
"I will dress casually."
Jim tried to beam at him, but it was a little difficult because his throat was killing him.
"Vere did my fork go?"
… .. . .. …
Rand was going to give him an award. Jim was so nervous that he got ready an hour early and had time to re-fold his clothes and put them back in his drawers. He had forgotten, when he first tied his tie, to apply cologne, so he had to remove it and forgot that he could just loosen it.
He'd cleaned everything up and actually ironed his shirt. The tie Jim had picked out was a vertical pleated, avocado green silk number. It looked sharp with the deep blue shirt. Very sharp. Jim actually felt really good. His hair was carefully tousled, so he didn't look like a slob, but there was very little Spock could do, short of getting it wet, that could mess it up. If Spock was getting his hair wet, Jim had a little more to worry about than what his hair looked like. Finally, Jim perched his glasses on the end of his nose. He'd just 'absentmindedly' leave those there until a little later. They'd be just fine on Spock's end table for a night.
Jim was also wearing his red shoes, because he knew exactly what Spock would think of that. Any advantage.
He chimed at Spock's door, only a little nervous. He was confident. James T. Kirk was a natural charmer. If he wanted Spock off balance, he was going to get it.
Spock opened the door and Jim felt like the floor had gone out under him.
He was standing there, looking like someone had found a way to distill sex and crystallize it. He was wearing a plain white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm and a double breasted golden vest, highlighted with charcoal stripes of varied thickness, drawing the eye up and down his lean torso. He had a pair of matching, tight charcoal slacks. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone. And, when Jim managed to drag his eyes down there, he noticed a pair of polished black boots, not regulation, that hugged his calves over the slacks.
Jim heard a wolf whistle and snapped his head around to see a crew member taking a picture of them. "Get out of here!"
The girl winked and raced off, no doubt to share her new picture. Jim growled, placing his hand on Spock's chest and shoving him into the room. He was going to have Scotty or Chekov make a jamming device so no one could take pictures on his ship.
"I changed my mind." Jim growled when the door slammed shut behind him. "You don't get to wear 'casual' clothes."
Spock raised an eyebrow and glanced down at himself. "Would you like me to change?"
"No." Jim hissed. "I just don't want anyone looking at you in those clothes."
Spock cocked his head to the side, confused. "You are...jealous?"
Jim felt his skin flush with something not at all like embarrassment. "I'm concerned for your safety. I don't want you walking around the ship with half my crew lusting after you."
Spock smirked, and damn if that wasn't the best thing in the universe, and reached up to remove Jim's glasses. "I believe you now understand my own view on your choice of casual wear."
Spock had just admitted to being jealous. At least, that was how his brain was choosing to file it. Jim smirked, licking his lips and catching Spock's hand to fold his glasses shut. The air was charged with something indescribable, but it left Jim feeling heady and ten feet tall. Spock tossed, actually tossed, his glasses sideways, onto his desk. Jim curled his fingers in the fabric of his shirt, reveling in the way it scrunched up, and walked him back to the couch. Spock was entirely too graceful as he sank to a seat, splaying his legs so Jim could stand a little closer.
"Stay." Jim ordered, and turned on his heel to exit the room.
He felt Spock's eyes on him as he sauntered out the door. The hall was empty, apparently no one wanted to hang around when Jim was in a mood. He snagged his hair gel off the counter and headed back to Spock. He was messing his hair up if it was the last thing Spock let him do. Spock raised an eyebrow when Jim re-entered the room. Jim's breath hitched when he saw him, sitting almost exactly as he left him, legs splayed open, arms resting on the back of the couch, eyes intensely focused on him. Jim smirked at Spock behind his eyelashes, moving forward with purpose.
He sank into Spock's lap, reasoning that it would give him the best access to his hair. He popped the cap on the gel and slicked it all over his fingers before burying them in Spock's hair. Spock tossed the gel to the side and shifted so he could watch Jim work. He was biting his tongue so a sliver of pink was visible from inside his mouth, lips parted slightly. Spock's hair was soft, something Jim had noticed before but never really let himself appreciate. The initial, messy, loose spikes Jim left in his hair were appealing for no other reason then he had put them there. He played with Spock's hair for a bit, but decided he didn't want it to be messy. He wanted it to look good, even sexier if it was possibly. He ignored that he apparently found his bowl cut sexy, in an abstract way. Jim made it neater, spiked the back forward and brought his bangs back and up, combed it back with his fingers. It was still a little messy, and it looked like Jim had been allowed to screw with his hair, but Jim liked it. He liked that Spock let him do that.
"Want to see?" Jim waggled his eyebrows.
"That is not necessary." Spock straightened Jim's tie, from where he had thrown it over his shoulder.
Jim wasn't sure why, but the fact that Spock didn't care what he'd done to his hair was incredible. Jim wiped his fingers clean on his jeans, noting the way Spock watched him do it. Spock's eyes followed his fingers up his thigh, and Jim slowly dragged them up his chest until he could loosen his tie. Spock's fingers twitched. Jim wondered if it was because he wanted to touch, or because he couldn't stand his tie being so loose and crooked. Jim popped the top button on his collar, watching Spock's eyebrow twitch up ever so slightly.
Jim slid out of Spock's lap, shoving his hands in his pockets. "So. Has the science crew finished their reports on that planet?"
Spock looked up at him sharply from where he had been watching Jim's hands. His jaw was tight, and Jim noticed it twitch slightly. Spock sat up straight, closing his legs and setting his hands at his side tightly. Apparently he wasn't too keen on the conversation change. His switch to professional didn't quite work, however, in those clothes and with Jim's handiwork all over his hair.
"They have, Captain. If you desire I am capable of sending the reports to you. I am also willing to provide a summary." Spock spoke stiffly, impatiently.
Jim smiled, moving to lean on the desk and picking up his glasses to inspect them. "That'd be great. I know we sent reports up fairly often, but it couldn't have been easy compiling the rest of the information when we came up. I'm sure they'll be working on those samples for a while anyway."
"Indeed."
Jim slid his glasses back on, humming. "Anything to keep them busy and happy."
Spock stood, sharply, and tugged his vest down, actually messing his shirt up a bit more. "Is this all you wished to discuss?"
Jim froze, because that sounded an awful lot like disappointed pouting. After a moment's consideration, he shrugged casually, because throwing Spock off this well was bound to be a victory.
"Not all." Jim admitted. "I was sort of hoping to ask you a bit about this bond."
Spock cocked his head to the side. "I see. What do you wish to discuss about the bond?"
"Well..." Jim headed back over to Spock's area, before turning so he wasn't looking at him. "I was wondering why it is that using the bond tends to make me sleepy, for one."
He felt Spock step closer. "You are referring to a sensation separate from the exhaustion you experienced before?"
Jim cocked his head to the side, before glancing over his shoulder. "Well, I guess sleepy isn't the right word anyway. It's a bit like when I'm buzzed."
"Buzzed?" Spock asked flatly, so it barely counted as a question.
Jim pouted, sighing dramatically. "I guess it's hard to describe to someone who isn't effected by alcohol. It's like there's this warm light just under my skin. I feel...never mind. It's hard to explain and weird."
"I am unsure how to answer your question, then."
Jim shrugged, turning to look at him. "I'm not sure how I could help. I mean, it isn't just when the bond is open, but that's when I notice it most. It's really hard to explain."
Spock's eyes roved over his face, before he reached up. Jim's eyes widened, and for a second he wondered if Spock was going to meld with him, but he simply took Jim's glasses and walked back towards the couch. Jim felt like his heart was doing a hundred meter dash in his chest. He found a goofy smile on his face as he realized Spock really didn't want his glasses on him.
"As I can not answer to the nature of what you feel from the bond it would be prudent to move to another conversation topic." Spock informed him, turning around to face him.
Jim's grin sank into a mischievous smirk as he spotted his glasses in Spock's breast pocket. "Alright. Why don't we talk about what the bond makes you feel?"
"As bonds are a common part of Vulcan life I am unable to provide any adequate description of the bond's presence." Spock put his hands behind his back. "It is simply a natural connection. Until its presence was established by a mind healer, the bonds we shared were similar in nature to those created by non-telepathic species. Those bonds I can not access nor affect. I could not describe a difference in them. Though they may affect my katra, they are not tied to it in the same way."
Jim hummed, sliding his hands out of his pockets and thrusting his thumbs through his belt loops. "Sounds frustrating. Do you ever wish you could reach out and feel people through your other bonds, even just friends?"
Spock glanced down at the ground, both eyebrows bouncing up for a second. "On occasion."
Jim strummed his fingers on his thighs, chewing his lip momentarily. "Was it everything you ever imagined?"
Spock's eyes snapped up to Jim's, sauntered their way back down to his hands and slowly back up. "More."
Jim tried to even out his breathing, but it was just a bit too hard to be convincing. He reached up and popped his collar, watching as the action completely consumed Spock's attention. Jim gripped his tie, intending to remove it completely. Spock was in his space before he even had a chance to loosen it more, gripping his wrist.
"Do not remove your tie." Spock's tone was hard, ordering him to leave it on.
Jim pursed his lips, considering it. "I'll trade you then."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Trade?"
"I'll leave the tie on." Jim leaned closer, so he was whispering in Spock's ear. "If you undo another button on your shirt."
He lingered just until Spock tilted his head to the side, clearly catching the scent of his cologne. Jim leaned back far enough to fix Spock with a challenging look. It was his move. Spock hesitated only for a moment, to his credit, before releasing Jim's wrist and casually freeing another button on his shirt. Jim felt like he had just been given a hypo full of adrenaline. Pure excitement raced through his veins and surged against the flimsy walls they found there. Jim barely felt like he could contain it and reached out to skim his fingers along Spock's collar, down to brush the newly exposed skin and the first curls of chest hair he found there. Spock reached up and fixed Jim's own collar, before straightening and tightening the tie. Jim's stomach tightened too.
It was logical. Jim had seen him without his shirt numerous times, so he had no reason to hesitate...except that this wasn't one of those situations. By complying, Spock had just admitted something. Jim hadn't quite deciphered the message, be he got it loud and clear. Spock wanted his tie on, for some reason. He'd have to thank his mom for the idea. He let him get away with tightening it for free.
Spock's hand was still on his tie.
Jim smiled up at him, not quite innocent enough to be coy. "Anything else you want me to leave on? Or should I start removing things?"
Spock smoothed the tie against Jim's chest, looking him over. "And what would you desire if I were to make demands of your clothes?"
Jim dropped his hands to snake his forefingers through Spock's belt loops and glanced away innocently. "I'm sure I could come up with something."
"And if I have no further terms or conditions?" Spock was using his negotiations voice and it was making Jim's muscles hum.
"I could certainly make some choices of my own..." Jim smirked. "Or I could start with my own negotiations."
"I do not doubt that the acts would be intrinsically connected." Jim skimmed one hand up, going for his glasses, when Spock caught his hand, tangling their fingers and diverting Jim from his task. "Do not attempt to put your glasses on again."
"Oh? Or what?" Jim pressed a little closer, letting his fingers dance with Spock's. "Is that a request or a challenge?"
"You are free to interpret it how you please." Spock told him sharply.
Jim pulled his hand free of Spock's and tugged sharply on his shirt, untucking it from his pants. He stepped back to inspect his work and certainly enjoyed the image. Spock was starting to look positively disheveled and it was hard for Jim not to want more. He wanted him standing in front of him, completely debauched and private in a way no one else ever had or ever would see. Jim knew he must have looked like a predator just then, almost hungry.
"Unbutton your vest." Jim ordered.
"Tuck in your shirt." Spock challenged.
Jim could probably make a few lewd comments about how fast he had his hands down his pants, but he was far more focused on the fact that Spock's long fingers were making quick work of his vest buttons. Jim had just managed to get his shirt tucked in when Spock popped the last button open and let his vest just hang there. Spock made a look that was ever so slightly disgusted and immediately fixed Jim's job. Jim felt like he was going to collapse on the floor as Spock's firm hands shifted over him, pushing and tucking and making him neat.
Jim gasped and started laughing softly. So that was it? Jim wanted to mess Spock up and make him gorgeously filthy and Spock wanted to make him look completely untouched, pristine. He could live with that. God could he live with that. Anything as long as Spock was playing along.
"My hair doesn't bother you?" Jim teased.
Spock raised an eyebrow. "It does not. Should it?"
"Well, it's awful messy." Jim smirked, batting his eyes playfully.
"It is intentionally styled and therefor acceptable." Spock declared and maybe he didn't want him completely perfect.
"Absolutely no other terms?" Jim questioned.
"Not at this time, no."
Jim was feeling ready to take a gamble. "Let me stay here tonight."
And he waited for Spock's terms. Jim was willing to negotiate quite a bit for what he wanted. Spock didn't hesitate in the slightest though, apparently already knowing what he wanted, but not having been willing to leave himself open to one of Jim's demands.
"Tomorrow when you arrive at my quarters after we have concluded our shift you will bring your change of attire here. You will not allow others to see you dressed casually." Spock ordered him around like it were nothing. "You will bring a tie."
"The tie will cost you extra." Jim said immediately.
"Extra?" Spock raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Extra." Jim folded his arms over his chest. "We share the bed tonight."
"Acceptable."
Jim grinned. "Unbutton your shirt."
Spock raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by Jim's continued demands. Rather than comply, he headed into the back of his room and went to his dresser. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for and Jim found an article of clothing flying for his face. A black vest. Jim looked up at Spock, surprised. It was one thing to change how he was wearing his clothing, it was another entirely to ask him to wear Spock's clothing. It was...okay, it was a bit exciting. Jim slipped the vest on, well aware it wasn't quite tailored for him. It was still going to look good. Spock watched him curiously as he did up the buttons on the front. He didn't know what was so fascinating about the look. He'd worn formal uniforms before, done himself up in a professional manner, but somehow this was different.
Spock started unbuttoning his shirt when he was satisfied that Jim had done as he asked. Jim was torn, because a large part of him wanted in on that, helping undo buttons, but another, surprisingly louder part of him wanted to enjoy the show. Spock was coming undone for him.
"Fuck." Jim whispered, marveling at the contrast between Spock's state of dress and the perfect way he just stood there.
Spock gave him a look he was going to describe as smoldering because his brain had short circuited and couldn't find a better description. "Do you have further demands?"
Jim grinned, because he never would have guessed that Spock would be willing to play games. "Not right now, no. Are you having fun?"
"Fun is an illogical and unnecessary concept." They both knew that meant yes.
Jim hummed his appreciation for the joke and pulled out his communicator to check the time. He was more than a little surprised that they'd spent a couple hours there already. It had seemed like just minutes. Jim whistled lowly, more than a little shocked.
"It's getting late." Jim explained when Spock gave him a questioning glance. "We should probably head to bed."
Spock nodded. "Very well."
Jim watched him turn away to slid his vest off and that little part of him that always insisted he go overboard managed to get control. "Hey Spock, I'm a little tied up, want to help?"
Spock turned around to look at him and froze. Jim had slipped his tie off and managed to somewhat effectively knot it around his wrists, shit eating grin on his face. He expected Spock was going to just untie his poor abused strip of silk, but apparently he was in a mood for humoring him. He swiftly undid the buttons on the vest and Jim's shirt, pushing them off of his shoulders and leaving them there. It was when Spock started undoing his pants that Jim started to question his own logic. Jim shut his eyes, completely unable to hide the full body shudder as the jeans slipped from his hips. Jim kicked the pants and his shoes off in the same easy motion.
Without a glance for his red boxers, Spock untied his hands with a quick flick of his wrist and decided to go back to undressing himself.
Jim shoved Spock back towards the bed, surprising him. He stumbled until his knees hit the bed and Jim shoved him down on it. Spock allowed Jim to pull his boots off and toss them aside. Then Jim's hands were scrambling up him, undoing buttons on his pants and pushing at his shirt to remove it. Spock seemed to regard him as a curiosity for a moment before switching their positions, pining Jim to the bed and removing his shirt completely. Jim let out an involuntary laugh when Spock's finger danced over the top of his hip, climbing for his ribs.
Spock froze, cocking his head to the side. "You are ticklish."
Jim glared. "Don't even think about it."
Spock proceeded to tickle him until he couldn't breath. Jim collapsed back from their impromptu wrestling session with an exhausted breath almost ten minutes later, grinning. Spock finished undressing and pulled on a pair of pajama pants before throwing a spare pair to Jim.
"You will be dressed while you are in my bed."
Jim couldn't help but snort. "Doesn't that defeat the purpose?"
"As your purpose is to sleep, it does not."
He laughed. "Point. Okay. I'll wear pants."
Now significantly more dressed, Jim found himself in a fantastic mood as Spock moved to lay down next to him. They'd had an awesome time hanging out and now they were having a sleep over. What could be better? Jim could get used to having a friend that humored him without a single question.
Jim snuggled up against Spock easily, tired and content, and not even thinking about why it should be uncomfortable. Spock allowed Jim to tangle their limbs somewhat messily, ordering the lights off. Jim grinned when Spock nuzzled him once, quickly, before relaxing to sleep. He was definitely going to wear cologne more often. He was also contemplating a way to make his room smell like Spock, because he could already feel all of the tension washing out of his muscles. He was more than content to let himself fall asleep in seconds.
… .. . .. …
Spock was awake. Jim knew this because Spock had gone to bed at the same time as him and, according to the xenobiology notes still tucked away in his brain, Vulcans didn't require the same amount of sleep as Terrans. Naughty Vulcan, treating himself to a lazy morning in bed. Also apparently enjoying the smell of Jim's faded cologne and unwashed hair, based on his strategic positioning. Jim snuggled a bit closer, before yawning against Spock's shoulder and blinking his eyes open tiredly. Spock shifted so he could look at him, looking positively sleepy. Jim leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on his lips, because it seemed like a good way to start the day, and Spock carded his fingers through Jim's hair.
"Mm." Jim smiled against his lips. "Meld with me?"
It was a simple movement, and then Jim was pleasantly washed away. Spock's thoughts weren't sluggish, but they were far less sharp, rounded and softened by sleep. Jim tried to convey his want for the bond to be opened. Spock complied easily enough, still quick as lightning. Immediately Jim was flooded with a warm kind of affection that made him want to hide and bask in it in equal parts. It wasn't some fairytale affection, because the kind of love people had in fairytales was simple and boring and shallow. Also, the only people that love princesses were princes who loved them like any other prize they had won. Spock had awesome best friend affection for him.
Jim was hit with a wave of amusement and was reminded they weren't just using the bond. He didn't really feel the need to be apologetic or embarrassed though. Spock was in his head, so he could suffer through his thoughts. Jim got the faintest impression from Spock, a thought that McCoy would find Jim's status as fairytale princess quite interesting. He thought about sticking his tongue out at him, which was as good as actually doing so while they were in the meld.
Spock interrupted that thought with the logical point that they should get up. Jim was promptly reminded that Spock was being unproductive. Naughty cuddling Vulcan. Spock didn't disagree with him.
When Spock ended the meld, Jim stretched out on the bed, watching him move to sit on the edge before standing.
Spock's hair was a complete mess, and Jim loved that. He'd like it a little more if Spock was scruffy, but he figured that might be pushing it. Besides, he didn't know how long it would take for Spock to grow that messy stubble look and he didn't particularly want anyone else on the crew being privy to it.
Spock glanced over at him, eyebrow raised. "You are staring at me."
"You gonna do something about it?" Jim challenged.
So Spock reached over to tickle him, earning a giggling captain curled around his arm. "Release me Jim. I must shower before my shift."
Jim hummed. "Okay. Think I'm going to rest here a little longer. Wake me back up when you're done. I still need to go get clothes."
The next thing he knew, he was being shook awake by a damp, half dressed Vulcan. Apparently a sonic shower hadn't cut it. Spock returned to dressing while Jim made an effort to crawl out of bed. With a quick gesture permitting him to use the shower, Jim stumbled off in search of cleaner skin. He was only moderately disgruntled by the fact that his shampoo was in his room, too far for him to go get it. He had a feeling Spock would not oblige him if he asked him to fetch. Oh well. His hair wasn't that finicky and he could survive a day smelling like Spock. He also had no idea where his hair gel was, but he could worry about that later, when he wasn't trying to wake up.
Jim shuffled out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, looking for the majority of his clothes. They'd made quite the mess of Spock's room the night before, and Jim was more than a little surprised he could even fall asleep with clothes on his floor. Spock glanced over, as if he just realized they'd left a trail when they undressed the night before, and started picking up clothes. Jim was just glad he wasn't missing any articles that he was aware of.
Dressed in jeans and looking semi-presentable enough to walk the few feet to his room, Jim found himself hesitating. "I'll...uh...see you at breakfast, then."
Spock glanced up from where he was folding his clothing to be washed. "Affirmative."
Jim walked fast back to his room, and was so glad no one appeared before he got there. Jim had gotten caught walking from peoples rooms more than is fair share in the academy, but it was different now. Especially since they weren't sleeping together. He didn't need his crew getting any more wrong of an impression.
His morning went mostly normal right up until his shift started. Rand was delivering PADDs for the first set of morning paperwork when she went very still and gave him the oddest expression he had ever seen on a woman's face.
"You smell like Spock." She murmured, apparently loud enough for the entire bridge crew to turn and look at Jim.
"Excuse me?" Jim choked.
She flushed considerably. "Ah! I mean...you don't smell like your usual shampoo. It's...ah...I'm sorry. I'll mind my own business."
"Please do." Jim hissed, turning back to his PADD because if he looked at anyone questions would start.
A moment later Jim found himself struggling with a headache. Rand was still making the rounds with PADDs, so he suspected people were taking a little bit longer to chat. He was going to ignore that.
"Spock." Jim called absently, an annoyed crease in his brow. "Where the hell are my glasses?"
Spock turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. "I do no know why you would expect me to know their location, Captain."
Jim gave him a condescending smile. "You were the last person to see them. I distinctly recall you taking them hostage. Where did you put them?"
"It would be quite illogical to hold an inanimate and unimportant object hostage, especially as I have no demand to make of you." Spock's voice was completely calm. "I do not know the location of your glasses, Captain."
"I don't believe you." Jim pouted.
"Um...Captain?" Rand slunk back over awkwardly, a helpful smile on her face. "I know where your glasses are. I could get them for you?"
Ah. So she was attempting to make up for her previous...oh. Jim flushed. If she knew where they were that was because she'd been in Spock's room some time that morning...Which meant she had probably also found his hair gel and the shoes Jim had stupidly left the room without grabbing or putting on that morning. God damn it. Jim blushed, shaking his head and thanking her all the same. He did not need his glasses. He would put up with the headache.
He could feel Uhura smirking at his back, the dirty little traitor.
"Can I help you lieutenant?" He turned to glare at her.
She shrugged innocently. "Well, you could help me verify the authenticity of this photo going around the ship."
Jim narrowed his eyes. "If I threw you out an airlock no one would be able to prove it. I'm that good with computers."
"Do not threaten Lieutenant Uhura." Spock called back over his shoulder, otherwise ignoring their conversation.
Jim rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to hurt her."
"I find I am more concerned for your safety than hers, Captain."
Jim sighed and swiveled back to front as people started chuckling. "Whatever happened to my respect on this ship?"
"Aw. We still respect you." Sulu smirked. "Spock just talks back because he loves you."
Jim narrowed his eyes at him. "Keep up the cheekiness, Sulu. I'll lock you in a closet with our navigator."
"Vhy is this being punishment?"
"Maybe our Captain had a traumatic experience with a closet once." Sulu shrugged.
Jim rolled his eyes. "Work. Seriously. At the very least stop distracting me."
He had to smile, when his crew mock gasped in unison, ostensibly horrified by the idea they were being anything less than productive. Jim ignored the creeping self doubt that he was being too open with his crew. They were only human...well, most of them anyway. And excluding Spock, all the other aliens tended towards needing some kind of emotional release to deal with the pressure. It was a wonder, Jim realized, that that drunken mess on the starbase was the first time he'd really genuinely messed up that bad. It seemed he owed more than just Spock thanks for all the things they'd done for him. That reminded him.
Jim sent off a quick thank you letter to his mom, informing her that Spock was apparently a fan of ties and Jim would be conducting further experiments with this. And he sent off a thanks to Sam for mitigating his mothers often harebrained schemes. One of them had to and apparently it wasn't Jim.
There were no further interruptions for his day, which Jim was eternally grateful for. He hurried back to his room right after he ate, well aware that Spock was going to be in the labs for another hour or so. That gave him a little time to get ready. Spock liked neat. Very neat. So Jim needed to make sure he got the look right. This called for somewhat serious consideration. Formal, not Starfleet. Jim really only had the clothing he had bought after he joined Starfleet. A few things he considered casual, but nothing that he though screamed formal wear. Jim had been surprised Spock owned anything that wasn't Starfleet or Vulcan. He now suspected this was because of Uhura, but he was going to let that slide.
Jim needed back up.
Which is exactly how McCoy found himself standing in Jim's room, looking utterly lost. "What am I doing here?"
"Helping." Jim cried in exasperation. "I can't pick out a nice outfit and I need help."
"Uh huh." McCoy raised an eyebrow, considering the door and how he could run out it for a minute before reminding himself that he was supposed to be offering support. "Okay. What look are you going for?" He was going to maim all of them when he got out of there.
Jim whined, "I don't know. I just...need to look better than I currently do. Neat. You know how to look neat and presentable, right?"
Bones snorted. "What's wrong with your usual look?"
Jim gave him and exasperated glare. "Do I really have to explain why I don't want to look like I did the first time we met?"
"It was an interesting first impression." He protested with a smile, shaking his head. "If you want to look sharp, but not formal, kid, just wear your suit without the jacket."
Jim furrowed his brow. "What suit?"
"The pinstriped one." McCoy rolled his eyes when that got no response. "That you bought to wear to my daughter's birthday...Where you introduced my ex's new boyfriend to the joys of Fizzbin?"
Jim's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah! The mobster party!"
"It was from a book Jim." McCoy shook his head. "Never mind."
Jim went to the bottom drawer of his dresser, where he kept the Starfleet uniforms he had to wear when he was in trouble. It was a drawer he never got into unless he was leaving the ship, so he hadn't even considered it. The suit had been a one off thing, and Jim had tucked it away to never think about again. He didn't really keep things planet side. There was a safety deposit box in San Francisco with his name on it, but he wouldn't really miss the contents if he never saw it again. Everything he had that was worth owning he kept with him. Bones had told him once how sad he found that. Jim's room wasn't packed with items, like some people's. He didn't have a home on some planet with a bunch of decorations and pictures. Though Jim had argued it would be a sad place to walk into covered in tarps and dust. What Jim had was almost entirely what Starfleet had issued him, from his clothes to the bed he slept on.
McCoy watched as Jim inspected the brown suit and tie and ironed the bespoke white shirt. He just wanted the kid to have something he could call his own, even if it was a pointy-eared, green-blooded hobgoblin of a computer for a boyfriend.
"Can I leave now?" McCoy implored.
"Yeah. Bones. You can go." Jim rolled his eyes, before stopping to glanced over at him. "Do you think the suspenders are too much?"
"No. I'm sure Spock will love them." McCoy said flatly.
Jim shook his head, laughing. "Okay. Okay. I see your point. Thanks for putting up with me. And for everything you've done...Really. I never realized before just how much I had been relying on you."
McCoy turned for the door, because there was an inexplicable burning in his eyes that he needed to go get checked. "Any time Jim...And thank you for letting me be there."
Jim smiled softly at his back as he left. He still had some work to do. He needed to make his hair neat and presentable, and make sure he wouldn't mess it up when he put his fedora on. He wanted to look good, not just because he could be incredibly vain at times. Once he was almost presentable he checked the time; Spock would be in his room now. Perfect. He tucked his clothes up under his arm and headed over.
Spock's eyes fell to the clothes under his arm as he let him in. "Captain."
Jim rolled his eyes. "I'm going to go change."
Spock wasn't looking in his direction when Jim stepped out of the bathroom, so he flung his arms around Spock's neck, pressing himself against his back. Spock didn't shift from the PADD he was looking at. Jim huffed, strumming his fingers against his chest.
"If you keep ignoring me I'll go find someone who will appreciate how I look in a tie." Jim warned.
Spock tilted his head back, placing a gentle kiss on Jim's jaw. "Patience Jim. I am finishing my work."
Jim sighed, because he couldn't really complain. "Fine. But only because you totally just tried to placate me in an illogical way."
Spock raised an eyebrow, but continued to look at his work. "Is it illogical if it works, Jim?"
Jim leaned down to bite the tip of his ear. "Sometimes you suck as a best friend."
"I apologize." Spock did not sound sincere at all, leaning away to get his ear out of Jim's mouth. "Do not bite me."
Jim huffed. "Entertain me and maybe I wouldn't."
"You are disrupting my work." Spock informed him. "I will devote my attention to you completely if you allow me to finish my work."
Jim was off of him in a snap. "I can do that."
"Thank you."
Jim moved over to the couch, plopping down to watch Spock work. It was probably a little more interesting than it should have been. He'd already noticed he had a habit of watching Spock though, didn't he? And flirting on the bridge, which he really needed to stop doing because it wasn't even like he had any reason to flirt with him. He and Spock didn't have that kind of relationship and it was the whole reason the crew even thought there was anything between them. Well, not the whole reason but probably one of the bigger ones.
Jim crossed his legs, resting his chin on his hand. Spock was all tight firm lines, but not in a way that made Jim feel tense or nervous. It was actually energizing.
Spock set aside his work and turned to regard Jim casually. Jim smirked, because Spock hadn't been joking about the complete attention. Spock moved to sit next to him and his smirk turned into a grin. Even if they were just playing chess, Jim wouldn't trade that kind of attention for anything. He could get used to wearing a tie, if it made interacting with Spock easier. And he wasn't sure what could be much easier than being looked at like you were the center of the damn universe.
… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …
I swear they won't be too much longer figuring it out. I have plenty of pithy comments I could add down here, but somehow they all just pale in comparison to the actual chapter. Oh well.
P.S. Yes, Bones was talking about The Great Gatsby. No, I don't own it.