WARNING FOR LONGEST A/N IN HISTORY XD (ALSO THIS CHAPTER IS 11.5K)
As you guys have probably noticed, it's finally gotten to that point where I had to choose between replying to reviews and writing moar, since I have no time for both! I'm so sorry, but I figured y'all would prefer the latter? ;) Ffnet's settings changed, and it wouldn't let me reply to the reviews of the chapter before this one anymore, which means I'd have to search for the specific review at the site itself and then PM the person who wrote it... and tbh I'd normally do that, but there's just. No. TIEEEEEEM! *dramatic hand-wringing* So in conclusion, I will reply from this chapter onwards, but although I read every single one and squeed every time, I wasn't able to reply to the previous ones.
So! I'm only NOW beginning to truly understand why I don't often see (read: have never ever seen) any doctors among the many talented fanfic writers I love. LOL, yes I'm slow like that. If you know of a case, please let me know, but I have yet to encounter one. I am not a doctor (YET!), but… yeah, that pesky free time thing people keep going on about? Not so much, no! XD I'm sorry this means updates aren't once a week like I wish they could be, but I'm also sorry this means I will remain rather distressingly optimistic, because that won't stop me! (DON'T. STOP ME NOOOOOOOOW!) Writing is totally my second love (or actually, it's my first… can I just have two first loves and leave it at that? *grin*) and I will continue to do so as long as there's someone willing to read my stories. Maybe even after that. So just… yeah, you guys are all amazing and your patience during finals time means the world to me, seriously!
ILU *smishes you all*
Chapter Eighteen: Credite Amori Vera Dicente
Lying to himself? What a waste of time that would be. Jim had never been one to tolerate that sort of thing. He had quite enough to do on an ordinary work-day, let alone in the middle of this mess right now, without adding denial to the list.
But Jim was aware of the fact that, given the right circumstances, it might be more intelligent to very carefully choose not to think about something. Purely for his own survival, you understand. Didn't mean he wasn't aware of the fact that he wasn't thinking about it. Whatever "it" may be. However hilariously obvious "it" was.
Didn't mean he wasn't completely aware of the fact that he was avoiding it (well, he was trying to avoid it. There's only so much "avoiding" one person can do when that... not-as-mysterious-as-it-thinks-it-is thing is yelling and jumping up and down and waving it's arms, going "HEY! YOU! YEAH, YOU, JAMES TIBERIUS KIRK! OVER HERE! LOOK, I EXIST! HEY LOOK!").
Now, this would have been a very valid plan had Jim not sucked royally at avoiding stuff. Like, seriously, that was one of the things he was absolutely terrible at and he wasn't too proud to admit it to himself. He may have helped save the Earth at some point but he could not, for the life of him, look away from something that made him curious. Even if he didn't want to, he would eventually cave. He'd come pretty far with the whole 'self-restraint' thing since that night in a bar in Iowa when he'd hit on the wrong girl, but.
Spock.
They hadn't said anything about meeting for breakfast and Jim felt fairly certain it would just be best for everyone involved if they didn't bump into each other at all. Naturally, a few seconds later he noted how the few sleepy-looking officers shuffling down the corridor kept glancing at the lone figure that had just rounded the corner toward the turbolift. And just by the way said person had held himself and walked Jim knew who it was, even without the sidelong glances his fame had earned him.
For a moment Jim actually considered going back into his room and waiting in order to avoid Spock, but…
… he really did suck at that general concept.
Steeling himself, he walked quickly to catch up with his First Officer, who stood waiting for the turbolift with two other people.
"Morning," Jim said, tapping Spock's shoulder tentatively. Spock turned his head quickly and concealed his surprise well.
"Good morning, Captain."
Jim gave him a hesitant smile. The air between them was awkward and thick, with fear and uncertainty and want, and he wasn't sure where to look, and Spock's eyes had (apparently unconsciously) dropped to his lips, which yeah thanks, was not helping, but they weren't alone, and he didn't know what to say.
Please specify what you implied last night.
Are you that amazingly oblivious that you have no idea what I feel for you?
What would happen if we talked about the kiss some more? Would it lead to the worst break up of a friendship ever, or…? Have you thought about it too? Do you even know I'm panting for your body like the slut you've always assumed I am? When did you realize you were attracted to me?
Why can't you just turn it off?
…You would if you could, wouldn't you?
"Hey, you wanna get something to eat?"
Spock's eyes snapped back up to meet his and he exhaled slowly. His face looked perfectly calm, but Jim knew, now. He sort of possibly had confirmation that Spock felt—Spock was attracted to Jim, had thought about Jim (hey, rule of thumb meant he'd thought about him at least once) and yesterday had, well, almost been leapt on and molested by Jim through an invisible door.
What was making breathing so damn hard right now was the fact that Jim strongly suspected that Spock would have let him. For a full ten, fifteen seconds before tossing Jim across the room, even. He'd seen Spock's hands gripping the doorframe, he'd felt Spock's impossibly hot breath blowing over his face as Spock fought for control, God—
"So, you hungry? For breakfast?"
Spock took his time in replying, expression blank. And then his eyes slid down to Jim's mouth again.
"Not for breakfast, Captain. No," he replied, so low no one else would hear but oh, Jim heard all right. Spock's voice was quiet, almost pained, as though he was confessing an unforeseen complication and it was Jim's fault (once could argue it sort of was, but Jim wasn't going to apologize for existing. Not ever). "I will accompany you if you desire, however."
"I… yeah, okay."
Their eyes met and locked, like tumblers clicking into place, something definite, something right, something merciless that felt to Jim like a cord hooked around his spine; pulling, inexorable…
They both started slightly when the turbolift doors opened, and immediately looked away from each other.
Yeah. They were screwed.
x
"Captain, duck!" Sulu cried.
"Sulu, it's weird that you still call me that when we're in the middle of—"
"Both of you, 'tis not the time of being nice, we must regroup at the checkpoint—"
"Chekov, behind you!"
"Damn, I've been hit, Captain!"
"Use your shields, Sulu!"
"I have no auxiliary power left!"
"Watch out! More Zombies!"
"This game is so confusing!" Jim yelled with glee.
"How are you still winning, then?" Sulu shot back, obviously annoyed.
He used the controller to urge his spaceship to the right of the 3D sim in order to swoop in next to Sulu's. "Bitch, I'm the Captain!"
"Swerve!"
"You're dead, Chekov!"
"I am not!"
"Yet!"
"Wait, I thought he was on our team!"
"There's teams?"
"Nooooooooo—"
"Now you're dead!"
"The winner is: Captain Kirk."
"Yes!"
"How did he do zat?"
The three emerged from their separate simulation cubicles with varying expressions that ranged from exasperation (Sulu) and an annoyed scowl (Chekov) to a huge grin (guess).
"Are you sure you didn't reprogram this thing?" Sulu grumbled. Jim punched him on the arm.
"Beginner's luck," he said, chuckling. It was actually more to do with the fact that the game didn't rely on the player having any actual piloting skills but more on instinct and, well, a bit of crazy.
"Dude, that was awesome!" Mara's brother Lucas had been running the simulator for them, and he stepped outside the bright control booth looking suitably impressed. Jim smiled at him and thought that Spock would have loved to criticise the total insanity of the game and then proceed to beat them all at it ruthlessly. "Thanks, Lucas."
After breakfast he'd run into his pilot and navigator and by silent and mutual agreement he and Spock had decided to go their separate ways until it was time to be back in the courtroom. Eating at separate tables had not spared Jim the sight of Spock's eyes fastening on his throat when he swallowed orange juice, or the low thrum of excitement his stupid libido seemed intent on maintaining after catching Spock's long, long fingers curling around his fork (his fork. Really. He was getting turned on by cutlery now).
Sulu and Chekov seemed to get over their crushing defeat quickly enough to demand a rematch, but Jim had to meet Moss an hour before the trial resumed and he was pushing the time already. He was in the middle of renegotiating for another day when suddenly his communicator crackled to life on his hip.
"Kirk!" A tinny female voice sounded among lots of background noise.
Jim froze, feeling a shocking chill crash over his body like a tidal wave, muscles locked as though he was instinctually anticipating a blow to strike with her next words.
His instinct turned out to be right.
"No, dammit he has to know—Kirk! You need to—he's hurt—there's been an accident—"
The transmission ended with a burst of static.
"What…?" Chekov began softly, but Lucas had stepped toward Jim with a terrified expression.
"That was my sister," he blurted. "Why… what the hell is going on?"
There was a soft cracking, grinding noise and Jim looked down at his hand and faintly realised he was nearly crushing the little device.
"I don't know, but Spock is hurt," he said with absolute certainty.
"What?" Lucas yelled, probably louder than he'd intended, and strangely melodramatic in the quiet room. "How the hell would you—ugh. Look, call her back. Ask her if she's okay."
"Can't."
"Fine, then I'll do it—"
"You won't be able to, either."
He fired up the computer terminal in the control booth and started typing so fast his fingers were nearly a blur. Sulu was at his shoulder in an instant, squinting down at the screen.
"Why can't you just call her ba—"
"That sound at the end of the transmission was the communicator's circuits short-firing," Jim muttered. "Computer, locate crewwoman Dalle, Mara."
The seconds it took for the machine to process his request were hell. Jim could feel the absolute finality of his claim like a leaden weight pulling at his gut, heavy in the pit of his stomach and deep in his bones that something had happened to him, just as he'd instantly known that when Mara said 'he' she'd meant Spock. He wasn't prepared… he couldn't… he just couldn't. No.
No.
A map of Deck 6 appeared on the screen with a glowing dot indicating where Mara was. The dot was moving, but it was inside the botany lab.
"Computer, locate crewman Spock."
When he saw the dot in the lab as well his mind went curiously blank. Not in a syrupy-sluggish way; just an expanse of white noise that hurled thoughts like phaser-shots darting through his brain, almost too fast for him to linger on.
"That's my sister who could be in danger. We need to—"
"Sulu, page security and get the Commodore on this if he isn't already, I'm going to the botany lab. Chekov, page the Sickbay and keep me informed."
Lucas half-heartedly tried to stop him; "But protocol during an accident…" but he trailed off by the time Jim had sprinted out of the room in lieu of following him at a run.
"Kirk, wait!"
It took them exactly four minutes to get from their Deck (number 12, at Rec Room C) to the labs on Deck 6. There was obviously a commotion going on and the turbolift network, despite being fast and efficient, had been busy.
Through Jim's razor-sharp mind flitted the thought that in a little while, once he'd made sure Spock was alive and all right and Jim didn't need to murder anybody today after all, he would find the time to be seriously pissed because apparently security in this base sucked. Big time. They might wanna look into it.
"Captain Kirk?" Jim ignored the Engineer who called his name and shouldered his way past the crowd of officers outside. The back of his mind distantly noted they immediately gave him the space to come through; sympathy on every face as though his pain was visible, or should be.
There were four security officers blocking the entrance, but Jim raised his hand for a punch at the one closest to him and he stepped aside, wide-eyed. Huh. These guys didn't normally scare so easy.
"Spock?"
"Mara!" Lucas was still hot on his heels.
"Spock!"
"Kirk? What the hell are you doing here, you're due in court in an hour…!"
"Get out of my way, Ben, or I swear to God—"
That was all it took, the beginning of a threat and the look on Jim's face before Ben Finney was scrambling out of his path, him and another blue-clad scientist staring wide-eyed after Captain Pretty Boy yelling his first officer's name. Jim was pretty sure he didn't want to know what he looked like right now, even though he felt relatively calm. Maybe almost eerily so; maybe that was what people were reacting to.
Lucas confirmed this seconds later, while Jim was sprinting past two more security men who merely gaped after him without protest.
"Dude, I think you're freaking people out," he hissed as a maintenance tech scurried out of Jim's range (range of what, though?). "You look like a robot. Like a scary, masterminding, ruthless robot bent on revenge. Or something."
"That was weirdly specific. Go find your sister," Jim shot back. Once you got past the open space with different working stations, the actual greenhouse zone was almost maze-like and there were a lot of red-shirt officers hurrying along the cramped corridors and where was Spock, dammit where was he.
"You!" A female security officer stopped in her tracks and turned to him, jaw set but a flicker of apprehension in her expression. Jim didn't care at that moment. "Where's Commander Spock?"
"Next row to the left, but you're not supposed to—"
He took off, leaving Lucas to ask about his sister.
He turned the corner, hearing lots of voices and suddenly there was a crowd of emergency medical staff around two stretchers and Spock, Spock was on one of them, eyes half-lidded and head lolling as a nurse felt the pulse on his neck. The sight made Jim stumble mid-step. What…? No.
"Spock…?"
x
Technically, if his heart burst from his chest and sprayed blood and gore everywhere it would probably make a terrible mess. So it was a good thing that that couldn't actually happen.
"Captain."
Jim had seen Spock in Sickbay six or seven times, maybe more, because you didn't hold a high-ranking position on the USS Enterprise without taking a couple of unscheduled trips down there. Space is pretty big. There are a lot of anomalies one can find in space. Space is, in fact, kind of huge.
But just like saying space is big was the understatement of the century, if one were to say Jim was 'worried' they would find the term sadly lacking. He'd left worry behind at a disturbingly fast speed and it wasn't even a speck in his metaphorical rear-view mirror right now.
"Idiot," he growled at his First Officer. Nope, he wasn't worried. He'd settled on fucking furious because the ringing in his ears didn't let him feel much else, and the part of him that was in charge of self-preservation knew it was probably for the best.
Spock blinked slowly, as though his eyelids were heavy and it required effort to do so. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, and his colouring was sickly and wrong, with large dark bruises under his eyes and green blood-vessels standing out against his pale skin so clearly Jim was sure he could have traced them all the way to his heart.
Jim wanted to punch him for being so monumentally dumb and knew the feeling was fuelled by something far, far from hate.
"I don't know why I used to think you were smart. I can't believe I trusted you as my second in command when you can't even—God, you're fired."
Spock blinked again and the sight of him so fragile made Jim's hands shake a little by his sides. He felt torn open, raw and exposed for all to see and the worst of it all was that he didn't really care because Spock was obviously clinically insane and plain old stupid and irresponsible all rolled into one and every time he was scolding or lecturing Jim for being too impulsive he was being a fucking hypocrite.
"How could you be so stupid, Spock? You're supposed to be this genius… was it all a lie? All this time your evil master plan was to fool us all into believing you possess a modicum—yes I know what that word means, there's no need to look so fucking surprised—you possess some intelligence, but really when it comes down to not touching the mysterious plant you know nothing about you're just powerless to resist?" He hissed angrily. "You're so fucking fired."
There were two nurses at the foot of Spock's bed and doctor M'Benga (a tall, dark-skinned guy only slightly older than McCoy) was fiddling with the datapad that had Spock's medical history on it, but Jim ignored them all for now, and they were doing a pretty decent job of ignoring him. He knew upsetting the patient was wrong but so far no one seemed about to stop him.
"You already said that," Spock whispered. He was obviously trying to sound calm and cool but his voice was thin and weak. Jim clenched his jaw and curled his hands into fists, as though he was readying for a fight. This wasn't supposed to be happening; Spock struggling to speak, it wasn't right. Spock had broken his wrist once and no one could tell until Uhura noticed the weird angle in which he was holding his hand four freakin' hours later.
"Jim…"
"I hate you," he snapped angrily, voice low and thick. Spock kept looking at him, unblinking for now, and in an effort to protect him from the sight Jim's fury surged so strongly that he could swear his vision was actually tinged with red.
I hate you for doing this to me.
"Jim—"
"No, don't talk, you'll make it worse."
"Jim, the floral specimen was killing Ensign Kalomi—"
"Shut up," he snapped, voice sharp with pain. He didn't care about the others covertly watching, didn't care about the stupid trial and in fact all he could think was 'Spock I think I'm scared because right now I couldn't care less about the girl you were trying to save, just you, only you.'
"I will not," Spock said. "Jim."
One of the Vulcan's hands tried to reach for his Captain but after a slight, trembling attempt it stayed on the mattress, too weak to even raise properly. It was with that little gesture that Jim's haze of anger abruptly lifted and once that was gone all he was left with was the paralysing fear that he could have lost Spock less than an hour ago and that wasn't… no, that wasn't acceptable, he couldn't even—
"Jim."
Spock's fingers twitched again in his direction (stubborn idiot, trying to get himself killed and now couldn't just give up) and Jim nearly gave in and grabbed Spock's hand to cradle it in both of his own which, subtle much? No, not very.
Hell, he nearly leapt on top of the guy and sobbed and begged Spock to never leave him. But there were more people in the room (even though it was one of the private ones and the other bed was unoccupied, thank God), plus the door had just opened and McCoy had slipped quietly inside, and Jim knew Bones would never let him live it down. Yeah, he told himself. That was why he didn't do it.
"Jim, forgive me," Spock murmured, still with visible effort. "Your anger is most… unsettling."
Jim blinked rapidly and took a small step back. Without all that misdirected anger he felt a little suffocated and a lot lost.
"Your hair isn't even combed properly," he heard himself say.
It was completely random and kind of ridiculous, and one of the nurses who was checking Spock's IV tried to cover his snort with a cough and failed. Jim glared at him until the coughing fit became real.
"Most observant of you." After a tentative blink Spock's eyes warmed again and his whole body seemed to unwind a little. "I have not had the time."
Jim reached for Spock's head before he could change his mind and his fingers awkwardly arranged the messy strands into something resembling Spock's usually severe bowl-cut. He avoided the Vulcan's curious, assessing gaze the entire time, and stepped back a little when he was done, slightly embarrassed.
"That's better," Jim muttered, gaze to the floor. "Now get well, okay? And don't you ever do something like that again, dude. It was stupid and dangerous and stupid."
"You—"
"For emphasis," Jim interrupted, anticipating Spock's comment. "Because it was stupid. And the 'reckless hero' thingy is my thingy, not yours. You're the sane, rational part of this partnership. You're the one wearing the 'I'm with stupid' T-shirt."
"You have 'stupid' four times in the past eleven seconds. I believe your point has been sufficiently emphasised by now."
Two full sentences had Spock's eyelids drooping with exhaustion. Dr M'Benga had made Jim promise he'd only stay for five minutes and then let Spock have a long, much-needed sedated sleep, but the Vulcan was obviously fighting it.
"And you are anything but unintelligent, Captain, no matter how you act—"
The Vulcan's arm was twitching to try and reach for Jim again. "Hey," Jim said, carefully placing his index and middle finger on the back of Spock's hand to keep it on the bed. "Don't try to move."
His first officer gave a hitched, surprised intake of breath at the contact and Jim felt like someone had punctured his lung and all the air just kept gushing out of him no matter how deeply he breathed. He was ninety-nine point eight percent sure that if the other four people in this room left he'd be kissing his pliant, sleepy First Officer to within an inch of his life, hoping to steal some oxygen from Spock's mouth.
"Just sleep for now."
Spock looked at Jim for a long moment and Jim mastered a little encouraging smile and a nod. After a slightly suspicious look and a little exhale that was adorably close to a huff of protest, Spock closed his eyes obediently.
Jim was kind of taken aback when he turned away from his First Officer's form and caught the look on the female nurse's face; her expression was positively pained with glee and she seemed to be having trouble not hugging him (although Jim was grateful that she fought the urge). It was a bit unnerving because he was sure she was an Enterprise nurse; he remembered that she was Bulgarian but spoke good Russian and she was the only person whom Chekov had let mother him.
"Um…"
"Oy, Jim," McCoy gave a little wave and motioned for Jim to follow him. Dr M'Benga winked at him and assured him Spock would be all right (the male nurse was rolling his eyes in the background the whole time), and so Jim did. He also didn't turn back to look, not once.
"What's up?"
McCoy led him out of the room and into the main Hospital Bay.
"Well, you stormed out of there with the stretcher and the Commodore wants you in on an emergency meeting. There's a briefing started ten minutes ago with him, the Chief of Security and some other important people I don't know."
Jim blinked, still feeling off-balance and almost strangely disoriented. In a distant corner of his brain he noted that while he'd always been more dependent on Spock than was normal, he didn't remember it getting quite this bad on the Enterprise. This feeling of leaving part of his… almost like a little thread of his mind stayed linked with Spock, that had never happened before.
"Yeah, okay. What room's it being held in?"
"Commodore's office conference room."
Jim nodded. "Okay then. I'll let you know what's going on."
The doctor's expression became even more grim, if possible, and his tone dropped to a serious bass. "Jim, be careful."
"… It's like, two minutes away from here," Jim said incredulously, then rested a finger on his chin and pretended to think about it. "I think I can handle walking. I'm pretty sure. Although you're welcome to come with me and hold my hand. I mean, if you want. After all, you're such a big, strong, man and I am nothing but a defenseless princess waiting to be rescued—"
McCoy sighed and looked back at the closed door behind which Spock was sleeping.
"You know that's not what I mean. Jim, someone wants you dead. I don't know if it's both of you or either of you but if they'd managed to kill Spock today you wouldn't—"
"I can take care of myself, Bones," Jim interrupted. He was normally all for joking about his looks but today he just felt annoyed. "And who says Spock's accident was a murder attempt?" He wasn't actually asking that because he knew the answer, but he hadn't wanted to hear the rest of McCoy's statement.
The doctor snorted. "Spock may not go about it like you but that doesn't mean he's not a big damn hero cut from the same cloth and everyone knows it. You're both among the most famous people in the Federation, Jim, even if that's easy to forget when we're on the ship. It wouldn't be that hard to slip some water into the terrain of that Rigelian vine; Spock was working on the station next to it and anyone who'd been at the lab would know. The first person to walk by it would get attacked and drugged and die within seconds, anyone trying to help would suffer the same fate. That poison, it's not… I've dealt with it before, Jim, and the dose doesn't have to be large."
"Still seems like kind of a stretch. This murderer is either very impractical, very clumsy, or very, very scared of being caught. What if Spock hadn't been working today? Anyone could have died."
They shared a glance that told Jim his friend was also thinking about a fourth option: the murderer was so far gone that he or she didn't give a damn if other people died in the process.
"They could have figured out his schedule," McCoy said. "Anyone at that lab would know he was there all the time, right?"
"Yeah, I guess." Jim scratched the back of his neck and concentrated on staying where he was (and not striding back into Spock's room to yell at him some more, or maybe just to watch him sleep like a particularly creepy stalker). "The only reason Spock and the Kalomi girl are alive right now is that she was carrying a syringe with the antidote in her goddamn pocket."
"You don't think she…?"
Jim shook his head, remembering the blushing, stuttering young girl with her sweet crush on his First Officer. She now lay in a bed several rows away, a group of her friends and nurses talking in hushed voices around her sleeping form.
"I'll check, but I'm pretty sure Mara said it was protocol given the nature of her research."
"What about security footage?"
"Wiped. Not just clean, I mean wrecked. No one's getting any data from those circuits anytime soon." Jim scowled. "Listen Bones, I should probably go. I'll see you later for your testimony, right?"
"Yeah. Guess I can finally admit I've hated your guts all this time."
Jim managed a half-grin. "Must be a relief."
"The truth is out there at last."
"Yeah, yeah."
Before he could leave, however, McCoy grabbed his arm and pulled him in for a short, gruff hug. It was a bit awkward because they didn't really do that sort of thing, but the doctor grunted something like: "You look like you needed that, you pathetic fuck" and Jim rolled his eyes and took off at a light jog.
x
The entire meeting could be summed up thusly: Emerett was smart but an ass, it wouldn't be long before people started to notice that accidents followed Kirk and Spock like a plague, and Chief of Security Hayes hadn't narrowed down the list of suspects by a whole lot. Most of the red-shirts would be informed of the situation, however, and told to keep an eye out, because while it was important not to cause a mass panic, people's lives were at stake here, and clearly not just Jim and Spock's anymore.
Jim had had to grind his teeth in frustration about eighty percent of the time but he was secretly glad that they had seemed to take him seriously, not just as Captain of the Enterprise but as someone who actually had a valid opinion. So. There was that. He'd missed his meeting with Moss, of course, but the lawyer had sent him a PADD comm about looking alive and "don't even think about looking like a lovesick idiot who's missing his man or something equally ridiculous because that would be sad, and also terrible for your case. But mostly sad.'
He went back to his quarters to get dressed properly for the courtroom session that started in fifteen minutes (Spock's accident had merely delayed it, since Emerett argued that anyway the Commander wasn't scheduled to speak until the next day and time was starting to be of the essence). Today was 'look at how all these people think Kirk and Spock are so great and work well together but not, you know, in that way, because Kirk and Spock are totally plantonic friends with absolutely nothing else going on at all, why do you ask?'-day. Also referred to in Jim's head as 'feelings, us? Possibly homosexual, anything-other-than-butch-and-manly-love feelings? Us? Puh-lease!' day.
So maybe it was 'time to lie'-day after all. And maybe Jim's avoidance tactics sucked. But some time in the aftermath of Spock's accident Jim had come to the conclusion that was no longer okay with throwing his hands up in desperation and complaining and worrying and being confused and afraid both of his own emotions and for Spock's life. He was done with that. He was done being toyed with, being scared, being almost-dead multiple times. He was James Tiberius Kirk. He was done.
They'd better watch the fuck out.
"Captain Kirk."
If Jim hadn't heard Spock raise his voice at least once (actually he was pretty sure it had just been that one time, which, impressive) he'd honestly believe Vulcans were incapable of yelling.
It wasn't Spock, though, who had called his name with that imperious calm. Spock was lying in a bed, too weak to raise a hand to touch Jim's arm (too weak to realise he didn't do things like touch Jim for reassurance ordinarily), and anyway he would have merely said 'Captain,' as though Jim was the only captain in the world and his name needed no clarification.
"Hey, Stavok."
The other Vulcan walked beside him and matched Jim's efficient pace, face as inscrutable as ever.
"Listen, I have to be in that courtroom in fifteen minutes so could you maybe do the cliffnotes version?" Jim asked politely. "We can talk later if you want."
Stavok eyed him for a moment. "Yes, very well. Do you have an estimate of time when it would be convenient for us to converse?"
Jim shrugged, internally cursing because he'd wanted to run back to Spock's bedside the second his time in court was over, but obviously telling a reporter that was stupid (especially since said reporter could find it out anyway if he gave another excuse).
"Not really. Where are you staying? Actually, do you have an office or something?"
They reached a turbolift and Jim paused. He was trying not to think about what Stavok might have to say to him that needed to happen in private and apparently took longer than five minutes (which meant that asking for an interview again was out).
"The press have been assigned rooms on Deck 10. You may find me there this evening."
"Okay then. I'll come by later."
"Very well." Stavok had a way of speaking that seemed to be suggesting he was doing Jim a huge favour by asking to see him. Jim resisted the urge to roll his eyes and just waved at the Vulcan before stepping into the turbolift.
x
Sadly, Scotty's testimony had been decided against, finally, because he was simply too busy to do it right now and Moss said they could do without, but after two hours of watching Sulu and McCoy sing his praises and tell careful truths about his relationship with Spock, Jim was quite prepared to kiss both of them right on the mouth and declare his undying love for their badassness.
Jim had always felt very protective of his crew, since the moment he was given the captaincy and even though back then he still felt like he had something to prove to everyone, a need to make them understand that he deserved it (even if it had taken quite a long time for him to believe it himself). But somehow in between missions and captain's log-entries he'd never realised to what extent his crew was protective of him. When Areel threatened to suggest anything negative about his integrity or his decisions his friends defended him wholeheartedly, even when she brought up specific acts of unjustified commands.
"You weren't there, lady," said McCoy gruffly, adjusting his uncomfortable sparkly silver shirt collar and squirming just a little. "You don't know what it's like. And he ain't afraid to ask for advice from us, either. Check your list for any protests from the command-crew. There's not a single one."
"Correct," said the Veritas device.
Jim had to fight an incredulous grin at those words since the doctor had been the first to threaten with an official protest for more than half of the events on that list.
"He did the same for me once," said Sulu when it was his turn, face grave and serious. "Mr Spock has been in danger more times, so I guess it's only logical that the figures appear to show an unprecedented number of incidents, but that's just how it is. Kirk is a brilliant captain. The best. There's something to be said about knowing that, if he can, your Captain will delay departure for half an hour to make sure you're safe on board. Or leap from a drill a thousand feet in the air on the off chance that he can save your life."
"Correct."
It went really, really well. Moss looked to be positively beaming at the pair in a way he hadn't been for Kirk and Spock, but Jim couldn't exactly fault him for it since he and Spock had mostly managed to fall on top of each other in the middle of the courtroom and answered questions about love with ambiguous non-replies (fine, okay, so Jim had mostly done the falling/answering himself).
"Excellent work, gentlemen. Thank you very much," Moss was saying to Sulu and McCoy. Jim stood up from his chair as the session was called to an end. It wouldn't be too long, now, before the trial was over. One way or another, the next day was supposed to be Spock's appearance and after that came closing arguments.
"We should go," Sulu said. "I heard the reporters got wind of Spock's accident and it might be best if, you know, we'd left by the time they—"
Too late. When Emerett had gone and as people started milling about as usual, a group of camera-happy reporters poured into the courtroom. There weren't many when compared to the day of the Enterprise's hectic return to Starfleet Academy after the Nero mission, but Jim still felt crowded and uncomfortable the second they all converged on him.
"Captain Kirk!"
"There are rumours circulating—"
"Would you qualify your relationship with the Commander as official?"
"Captain Kirk, has Commander Spock been attacked?"
"Please, do you have a comment on the current regulation prohibiting undisclosed fraternisation—"
"Is it true that you and Commander Spock share quarters?"
"Do you have a comment on the reports of sightings that confirm an undisclosed liaison between Commander Spock and yourself—"
"What is Commander Spock's condition?"
"Have you been to see him already—"
"Hey, give the kid some room the breathe!" McCoy said, annoyed and waving his arms at the reporters as though he was swatting flies. There were no flies in outer space. It had been quite a while since Jim had been bothered by Earth flies. He couldn't honestly say he missed them.
Right, he was being accosted by about a dozen people with mini-cams and recording equipment.
"Spock's gonna be fine, I'm told," Jim said, raising his voice a little. When the barrage of questions started again he raised his hands apologetically. "Sorry guys, I've got some stuff to do." He grimaced. "I'd say maybe another time but, well, probably not."
He made his way through the throng, Sulu and McCoy right behind him, and they all strode quickly to leave the mess of blinking laser-flashes behind. Was it really necessary for his picture to be three-dimensional?
At the corridor outside, Chekov and Uhura had been waiting for them.
"Captain!" Chekov called, a relieved expression on his face. "I feared for your life when the Orion woman started stretching before the door opened."
Sulu gave the young, wide-eyed pilot a fond snort of laughter and reached out a hand to ruffle his hair which the young, no-longer-quite-so-wide-eyed pilot caught in his wrist in a practiced move and flung away, scowling.
"I cannot understand why people will not stop trying to pet me," Chekov said with a growl. Sadly, the effect was slightly ruined by him stomping his foot.
McCoy chuckled and shook his head. "How's Spock doin'?" he asked Uhura. Jim knew it was ridiculous to feel jealous of her because she'd gotten to spend the past couple of hours with him, so he smothered the burst of green-eyed emotion threatening to make an untimely appearance. He was cool. He was totally cool with all of this.
"Mostly sedated," Uhura said with a little shrug. From the set of her jaw, however, Jim could tell she'd been stressed as hell, and felt that much guiltier for the possessive impulses Spock seemed to elicit from him. "He woke up half an hour ago and calmly informed me that I should be supporting the Captain, who needs it. Because of course Spock has been poisoned, slipped into cardiac arrest three times in less than twenty-four hours, and is in need of a blood transfusion no one can give him, but Kirk will be sitting in a room listening to people talk."
The entire group's indignation was unspoken but palpable at Uhura's exasperated explanation.
"He looked terrible but I think… the doctor said he was making a pretty incredible recovery time, which, okay, is wonderful and I'm so glad he'll be okay, but… he actually got irritated with me when I tried to argue with him! You know how he gets, all superior and logical—anyway, he didn't understand why I wasn't here which just, I mean, seriously?" Chekov gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Ugh. You two were made for each other," she added shakily with a nod at her Captain.
Jim's gaze snapped to her face. "Please don't say stuff like that," he said, his tone mostly light but with an undeniable undercurrent of something even he wasn't quite sure he could identify. "Especially not with reporters only a few feet away with recording equipment."
Uhura's eyes flickered to the crowd down the corridor. "Shit. Sorry." Her mouth twisted. "I'm just—well, you know."
"It's been kinda crazy for all of us," McCoy offered. "We could go eat some dinner?"
"Actually you guys go ahead. I'm, uh, meeting someone."
A curious silence followed this statement, one Jim didn't understand.
"What?" he asked, eyes darting around the group.
"You're meeting someone?" Sulu asked, face carefully blank.
"…Yeah. I just said—"
"Not Spock," Uhura interrupted. Her eyes were suddenly flinty and distant. "You're not going to the hospital bay."
"No. I would've said I'm going to visit Spock if I was, wouldn't I?" Jim fought the urge to back away slowly or raise his hands protectively in front of himself as the members of his bridge crew all looked either pissed off or disappointed or both. Uhura, especially, was leaning towards one of the two with a frightening glower. "I mean, I was going to but then, well, I guess I'll explain tomorrow if things go well, but, uh—"
"Who're you meeting, Jim?" McCoy asked. He was among the mostly 'disappointed' faction.
"There's this—look, what's going on, guys?" he said finally. They were all still staring at him with those faces, and he felt confused and a little bit afraid without knowing why.
"Nothing," Chekov said. "We shall see you tomorrow for that sim rematch, yes?"
"Yeah, bright and early, I promise, but—"
"Go," Uhura said. "Go meet whoever and I'll go visit Spock."
Oh. Shit, okay, he was dumb as rocks.
"Hey, it's not like that!" he protested immediately, and then realized what he was saying. So what if it had been? What if he was meeting Mara for a date or—actually he'd never do that while Spock was in Sickbay, unnamed (for now) feelings or not, but still, for them to be looking at him like he was cheating on the guy or something… come on! "It's just something I gotta do and I'll go visit Spock later."
"You can't visit him later, he'll be asleep," Sulu pointed out.
"Fine, then, tomorrow. Look, this could be really important, okay?" His tone slid slightly into authoritative and he watched his three friends note the change and revert a little into being crewmembers. "You'd think you people would know me well enough by now to know I'd never do something like that at a time like this."
"Sorry," Uhura said, sounding sincere. "I guess you must have an important reason not to go."
"Yeah, I do," Jim said firmly. He wanted to make that very clear. "But look, don't worry about it. Please tell him from me that he's stupid?"
"Will do."
"Thanks. Okay then, I'm leaving now but I'll see you guys around. Thanks for coming to give me support, by the way." This last comment especially at Chekov and Uhura with a pointed nod. "I do appreciate it."
"You're welcome."
He gave them all a mock-salute and walked away to find the nearest turbolift.
He was in front of Stavok's door ten minutes later after having consulted the ship's locating system and seeing the dot of the reporter faintly glowing inside a room further along the deck. He hadn't finished typing the alert code into the door before it opened.
"Captain Kirk," Stavok greeted him with a nod. He didn't actually offer to invite Jim in and since the doorway was pretty small Jim found himself staying on the corridor with his eyebrows raised.
"What's up, Stavok?"
The Vulcan's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, momentarily confused by Jim's wording, but Jim was grateful to catch the little sign that even full Vulcans had little tells of emotion; that Stavok wasn't a robot.
"I asked you to meet me because I wish to discuss a serious problem with the computer location software," the Vulcan journalist said.
Jim blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I have detected a flaw withing the programming of the computer scan that would enable for it to be tampered with successfully."
Still, Jim was confused. "But why are you telling me this? I don't work here."
"This flaw could prove to be dangerous, Captain Kirk."
"…O-kay, but I still have no idea what you expect me to do about it. I mean, I can alert security if you want, but it's not like they wouldn't've believed you if you'd told them—"
"I am aware of this." Stavok's face was blank, but maybe there was just a little hint of exasperation behind his words. "Captain Kirk, this flaw in the software would permit anyone able and willing to hack into it to change the settings of the scanner in order to overlook certain DNA patterns. If the hacker is creative enough, it would even allow for the creation of an avatar or a glitch pattern that would convince the security workers and other staff of the Starbase that a Human is not, in fact, where the scanner knows he is."
There was a very long pause as the gears in Jim's head spun fast. Was Stavok really…? Nah, but it couldn't be. What reason could the guy possibly have for wanting to help them?
"Uh. I…"
"If one were to override the codes to the DNA filing system the firewall protecting the sequence identification software is easily surmountable and in need of repair and update."
"Okay. But…" Jim floundered for the appropriate response and Stavok just looked at him. "… Why, though?" he settled for finally. "Why are you telling me this?"
Stavok quirked an eyebrow, but it looked nothing like when Spock did it. "I am merely pointing out an existing problem with the security of the Base," he said, an unspoken 'of course' in his tone.
There was an old, old saying about looking gift-horses in the mouth and Jim knew it hadn't exactly turned out well for the guys who said 'wow, let's take this huge horse into our city since it's so obviously a gift, what could possibly go wrong when it's big enough to contain a small army?' but this, this would mean he finally got to be in a room with Spock without having to worry about how close they were standing or whether they had been alone for too long.
"Well, in that case, thank you," Jim said. Stavok gave him a pleased little nod, and Jim felt himself smile the first genuine smile since Spock's accident. "Thank you so much, I really—I mean," his face turned mock-serious. "We all really appreciate your concern for our safety."
"Very well. I trust you shall take the appropriate steps to ensure action is taken."
There was a second when Jim honestly doubted he had interpreted Stavok's hints successfully, because the guy looked so serious as he said this. But then he caught a glint of… not amusement, exactly, but almost satisfaction, that Jim had finally caught on.
"Sure thing. Thank you, Stavok. Really," he said again, letting his eyes show the weight of the gratitude behind it.
x
When he woke up the next morning with a jolt it was to the insistent sounds of his door buzzer code being repeatedly typed in. He had no idea who could possibly need to see him so urgently right at that moment but he shrugged on yesterday's black short-sleeved T-shirt from the floor so that he wouldn't be seen in just his underwear, in case the person outside happened to be one of the journalists.
He was surprised to open the door and find Uhura outside, but nothing had prepared him for the complete shock of realising that person standing next to her was Spock.
"What the hell?" Jim said, gaping at his first officer. "Why are you here? Why aren't you in the Hospital Bay? How did you let him do this?" This last question was directed accusingly at Uhura, who snorted.
"I'm not you," she snapped, and Jim flinched from the implication of those three simple syllables (why did the heaviest words come in groups of three?). "And I can't physically stop him, now, can I?"
Spock looked pale and thinner than usual, but his expression was otherwise perfectly normal. It was such a shocking change from yesterday's shallow breathing and unguarded eyes that Jim was a little stunned. If it weren't for the vivid memory of the pain in his insides he'd wonder whether he'd imagined the deathly pallor to the Vulcan's skin.
"You should be resting—"
"I requested an early discharge and doctor M'Benga granted it," Spock said patiently. "May we come in?"
Jim stepped aside and Uhura marched into the room, looking pretty angry. Spock walked in after her, clasping his hands behind his back, and the gesture was almost exactly the same as always, but having watched the man for so long (and with that extra quality to his scrutiny of late, too) Jim could tell it was more careful than usual, and Spock moved a bit slower, too.
"I believe the circumstances surrounding my incident signify an escalation in the killer's goal, and since our lives are in danger it would be illogical to prolong our stay here," Spock said, standing in the middle of Jim's room. Uhura had sat herself down on Jim's unmade bed and still seemed annoyed but, like Jim, was obviously keeping a careful eye on the guy in case he showed any signs of weakness.
"Therefore, an efficient end to the trial is the most desirable outcome, and I am the only person left to testify. If I am able to testify today the jury can hear closing arguments tomorrow and issue a verdict in two days."
It was frighteningly logical, of course, as all (well, most) of Spock's reasons were. But one day wouldn't make a huge difference and Jim said so.
"You need to get better, and no one's going to be impressed by your pokerface if you faint in the middle of answering a question."
"That will not happen," Spock said firmly.
"I'm sorry, are you a trained medical professional?" Uhura said loudly from her seat. "Last time I checked Leonard McCoy was the Chief Medical Officer, not you. Also, that's your Captain telling you to take one more day of rest, Spock. Right, Jim?"
She looked at him fiercely and Jim hurriedly nodded. "Right! I totally agree with Uhura, Spock, you need—"
"You are not in a position to offer medical advice either, Captain," Spock interrupted coolly. "Nor you, Nyota, as I have already attempted to explain."
Uhura rolled her eyes.
"Furthermore, Dr M'Benga, who has a decade of experience including a year-long internship on Vulcan and is therefore the person on this Base who can diagnose and treat me with the most accuracy, has agreed with my decision and discharged me."
"Okay, so we've established that no one in this room is licensed to practice medicine," Uhura said with exasperation. "And I'm sure doctor M'Benga is excellent, but it's unnecessary to request an early—"
"It is not unnecessary, I am going to testify this evening. Every moment we delay departure we put other's lives at risk. Captain, Ensign Kalomi's health is now severely deteriorated because of my interest in her research."
There was a muscle ticking in Spock's jaw that warned of stubbornness, and Jim had seen it before. He'd fondly named it the Ticking Muscle of Doom because it never failed in its evil purpose; namely, Spock would eventually get his way every time it Ticked.
"All right, listen up both of you," he said finally. "First off, we should leave my room, because Spock and I aren't allowed to be alone together and while your presence is always awesome, Uhura, you're not exactly the person most fit to turn this situation into something innocent."
Uhura's eyes widened and flicked from Spock to Jim and back again, and then she gave a humorless laugh. Jim tried to ignore the blatant disbelief in her expression and stepped closer to Spock.
"Second, I can't really overrule M'Benga's decision so if he says you're good to go, I guess I'll have to trust him. However, if you so much as wince, Spock," his voice turned menacing. "I'll have your ass back on that bed faster than you can say 'illogical,' you hear me?"
"Yes, Captain."
Spock's eyes darted to Jim's outstretched hand pointing an accusing finger at him and then guiltily back up to Jim's face. Jim wasn't entirely sure why but he suddenly felt much more naked than he was (although he was, technically, a little bit naked).
"So we should all just go now."
Uhura coughed pointedly. "You're not wearing any pants, Captain. And as much as several people would probably appreciate it, I don't think flaunting that ass would win you many points with the jury."
Jim looked down. "... Right."
Spock looked at Uhura determinedly. "We should leave so that the Captain can change," he said. Uhura quirked an eyebrow and got a teasing glint in her eye that told Jim it was time for revenge. The Vulcan may have gotten his way but there were consequences to making Nyota Uhura worry and then ignoring her like Spock had.
"Oh, I don't know. I wouldn't mind watching the Captain change."
Jim grinned incredulously. "Perving on your superior officers, Lieutenant?" he asked with mock outrage.
Uhura stood up from the bed, smiling herself. "Maybe."
"Well, how dare you not tell me sooner?"
She opened her mouth to reply but was rudely interrupted by Spock. "We should leave, Lieutenant."
Uhura didn't look very surprised at not being addressed by her first name anymore.
"But Spock, the Captain wants me to stay and watch him—"
"No he does not."
Jim suddenly felt a bit deer-in-the-headlights-y. His natural reaction to flirtation was to flirt right back, but Spock was looking pretty tense by this point.
"Um," he said eloquently. He was ignored.
"The Captain needs privacy. Leave him alone."
Uhura's eyes narrowed and she got a calculating expression on her face that was more frightening than her earlier determination to get Spock back for ignoring her. Jim took an instinctive step away from Spock just in time for her to move towards him, eyes fixed on her ex-boyfriend as though waiting for a reaction…
He didn't disappoint, apparently. The second Uhura moved towards Jim Spock twitched, which was also a tell for his state of mind, because normally he'd have been able to control the impulse before it showed, but the idiot really must be in pain.
Jim was about to point this out when she took another step forward, closer to him. Which was when Spock's jaw audibly snapped shut and he looked at Uhura in a way that made Jim itch to stand in front of her and protect her thin, frail little body because…well, Spock didn't look like he'd almost died yesterday anymore. He looked powerful and threatening and otherworldly and tall.
"Leave," the Vulcan snarled.
Uhura had stopped in her tracks and her eyes were a little wide.
"Yes, okay. I'm sorry, Spock."
Her honest expression seemed to get through to him, though, because the next second Spock had seemingly come back to himself, although his breathing was a bit shallow.
Jim was stunned and confused and, why not, more than a little hot under the collar. He had no fucking clue what had just happened.
"I—" he started to say, not sure what he intended to follow that with. But Spock spared him the need to think of something to say when he spoke next, his voice completely devoid of inflection.
"My apologies. I shall see you in court, Captain." He nodded stiffly. "Nyota."
And then he was gone, and Uhura was letting out a long breath that was suspiciously like a sigh of relief, and Jim was still a little turned on but mostly very confused.
"What. The hell. Was that," he grunted.
Uhura let herself drop down on the bed again as though her legs had simply given up on holding her weight.
"That was me being extremely childish, immature and stupid," she said firmly. "I'm really sorry." And, because she was Uhura, she added: "And I'm also getting really tired of fucking up all the time and then having to apologise for it. I think I should just try anticipating the mistake and then not, you know, making it."
"What the hell was that, Uhura?" Jim asked again.
"It's not my place to explain Vulcan tradition and ritual, Kirk. Either you look it up or you use that very big brain in that very big head of yours and figure it out. Or you do neither and live in blissful ignorance forever. Your choice."
"But you… you provoked him. I was there." This wasn't shaping up to be his brightest moment.
"I know. It was really stupid, but he makes me so mad sometimes I just… God, he's such an idiot. And I didn't exactly have to drag him to your room, you know, I just wanted you to talk some sense into him but Spock said you'd understand his side because even though you're super pretty and blonde you're still ten times smarter than me and okay, he didn't actually say that or even imply it but I know that's what he was thinking—"
"Whoa, hey, no, that's not—don't be ridiculous, Uhura. He knows you're smart as hell, and way smarter than me in your areas, too." Jim decided to ignore the blonde comment. "And you're telling me you know what that was about and you're not gonna explain?"
She sighed.
"That's exactly what I'm telling you. But look, Kirk, word of advice? He won't, uh, appreciate you flirting with other people in front of him. Obviously. And I'm leaving now and please don't take it the wrong way if I stay the hell away from you for the next few days. It's the opposite of smart, to mess with a Vulcan who—like that. I'm really sorry."
Jim was still reeling and confused and feeling the word 'Leave' ring in his ears as though his quarters were a cave and it had left behind echoes. Spock'd meant to stay when Uhura left, that much was obvious. What the hell had he been planning to do once he and Jim were left alone? Or was that not it; was he just defending his territory, was that was Uhura was implying? That because Jim was the weird exception to Vulcan rules (Spock couldn't repress his attraction for Jim, couldn't choose to ignore it even though he didn't have feelings for Jim, had been able to kiss Jim without it meaning anything because of the lack of aforementioned feelings) then that made him… what? Spock's to keep?
The thrill at this notion was wrong and destructive and dumb, but the fucker was there and Jim shivered slightly.
"Kirk? I'm leaving?"
"Yeah, okay." He tried to school his expression into something remotely resembling calm confidence, and the expression on Uhura's face didn't give him a clue whether he'd managed it. "See you around. Or, you know, not."
She got up off the bed and bit her lip, her eyes huge and understanding. "Maybe you should talk to him."
"See you around, Uhura."
"Okay, okay, bye."
x
Four hours later…
He felt a little like all this time has been an implosion played in slow-motion, with him at the very center.
Obviously everything before had been leading up to this moment, this realisation right here, ever since noticing the fact that Spock rhymed with—realising he, uh, wanted Spock in that way, and then realising that Spock was the only one he wanted, and more than anyone he'd wanted before, and wanted him so much, in fact, that he felt like he was the only one Jim would ever want.
Still. Love.
That was a big word. Or, well, it only had four letters but it sounded, you know, huge. Bigger than cardiomegalia, and that had thirteen letters and literally meant 'swollen heart.' Jim positively scoffed at big romantic declarations of love. He didn't believe in them, not when they were related to him. His standard response to hearing 'I love you' usually hovered between running away or expressing his stunned surprise in the form of a 'huh?' or a 'that's weird.' Yeah. That made for some pretty awkward conversations.
But now… well. He could feel it.
Oh, sure, it was cheesy as hell to say so, but he could feel it pumping through his arteries like adrenalin, as adrenalin, quickening his pulse and his breathing and blowing his pupils wide and making his whole body ache with it, ache deliciously, sinfully good.
Suddenly there was a ringing that snapped him out of his mental daze. Not just the ringing in Jim's head, he realised after a second; this was coming from the communicator in Spock's waist.
"Commander? It's Nathaniel Moss!"
They both froze and stayed silent, panting in synch.
"Remember you're due in court in ten minutes!"
Spock's hand carefully slid out from under Jim's shirt and he turned the communicator off, nose still puffing hot gusts of air right in the spot behind Jim's ear.
Jim blinked and bit his lip. Then he uncurled his fingers from their grip on Spock's hair and thoughtlessly smoothed it down.
"…Okay," he whispered shakily. "Okay. Now what?"
So, okay, that was mean *twiddles thumbs*
I am aware of the fact that it was mean.
It was almost, some would say, evil. Ish.
Evilish?
But the scene wanted to be free, you understand? The scene wanted to BE THERE, as a preview of all the exciting things that will happen in the next chapter (which I shall endeavour to finish writing ASAP although I'm smack in the middle of finals and still have three whole weeks to go)! I hope it doesn't make anyone want to kill me…? *does her best Puss-In-Boots impression*
BUT IN CONCLUSION: KIRK AND SPOCK LOVE EACH OTHER, THE END ;D