Jim's fingers hit the screen with a harsh staccato. Stupid Vulcan and his stupid literal take on everything. Stupid Pike and his insistence that they were a 'packaged deal'. Screw him. Fuck the Admirals and their frankly ridiculous decision to let two first year cadets take over such an important part of Jim's own course. Did Starfleet not have anyone more qualified than two 18 year olds? They were the security of the United Federation. Did they really think Jim was dumb enough not to know this was some kind of test or set up or something?
His danger senses were tingling. Jim always trusted his gut. Sure, he'd disregarded it, gone into situations anyway but, he'd always known something was going to crop up.
Now, they were on full alert and he wasn't sure if it was the programming, Admirals or Spock they were trilling about. Could be all three. From where he was standing they were all hopeless.
Why wouldn't Spock listen to him? In the end, that's what it all crunched down to. His best friend didn't trust his judgement. Which meant he didn't trust Jim. Underneath all the anger and frustration it boiled down to the very real hurt and humiliation he felt. He wasn't good enough. Not for 'normal' people. Not for Iowa. Not for Earth. Not for Vulcan. Not for Spock.
The door hissed open behind him just as the screen changed and Winona and Amanda's faces appeared. He could hear the faint brush of Spock's slacks against the carpet, feel the abnormal body heat against his back. He missed this. He missed being close. Missed the minute upward twitch of Spock's lips and the way his eyes softened, ever so slightly. He liked their verbal banter, the hip checks in the kitchen, quiet, contemplative chess games. Two weeks of 'super Vulcan' treatment were wearing Jim down.
He'd be damned before he apologised first.
Testing a captain's responses under great fear and stress did not, in Jim's humble opinion, a no win scenario make. That was bullshit. It would be easy for them to create an incredibly difficult, soul destroying simulation without it ending in certain failure. Why would anyone bother trying to beat the thing if they knew they, their crew and everyone else would die anyway. People would just go through the motions and accept defeat. And out there in the black? Starfleet, Jim and Spock specifically, would have trained them to do exactly that. You get into a tight situation and it looks like you might sink? Fire at the baddies and then go down with your lady. Great message. Really inspirational.
"So, how're those grandchildren coming along?" Winona winked and waggled her brows suggestively. Normally, Jim would be blushing and wiggling as far from Spock as space allowed. Right now, he was too pissed to care. Three weeks of fighting, not speaking, trouble sleeping and a whole lot of glaring had left him emotionally worn down.
"I hate that asshole." Jim said, watching as both their mother's eyebrows rose. It had been a while since they'd been openly hostile to one another.
"Jim is being most obtuse." Spock spoke up from beside Jim and causing their mother's to share a certain look.
"Well, I guess Sarek did tell me not to get my hopes up." Amanda sighed, "I miss the pitter patter of little feet around here."
Winona nodded in sympathy, her arm snaking around Amanda's shoulders and squeezing her tight.
"No. Just, no." Jim couldn't take this. Not right now.
He ran through the house, grabbed his leather jacket and walked out the door. It was cold. Nights in San Fran generally were. Nothing like Vulcan. Where the air was freezing but, if you dug you feet just under the sand, it was warm. Toasty. Jim had spent may a night lying in the desert, watching the stars, feeling the planet spin. Alone to listen through all the thoughts in his head.
Tonight, he didn't want to listen. He wanted to forget. Ignore. Try not to focus on the ache in his chest. The weird sense of loss permeating his being. Spock would be a great dad. Enough of Amanda and Sarek to be truly awesome. It was something he'd been noticing more and more often and never letting his mind settle on for too long. Because, before the whole Kobayashi Maru debacle, things had been going well. Well enough for Jim to maybe hope Spock might like him. He'd started to see what everyone else saw. Two teens, living together, spending their free time together, looking after each other. Two very close people who complemented each other.
Jim slowed his pace and looked around the semi deserted streets. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as the prickly feeling continued. It felt like someone was watching him.
Jim frowned and kept walking, focusing on categorising each sound he heard. The rustle of rubbish on the pavement. Three people drunkenly staggering down the street. A women singing in one of the apartments. Further away, traffic noises. No footsteps trailing his own.
It had been a while since the last time Jim had been this uncomfortable walking at night. It was easy to forget that his parents were important people. That his own face was recognisable.
On the corner, the bright lights of a 24 hour store, shone on the street. Jim had never felt so relieved to see a convenience store.
He walked through the doors and found the closest security camera, smiling up into it. A nice, clean face shot. At the very worst, they'd have footage to work with. If anyone was following him. It was entirely possible that his over active imagination was getting ahead of itself.
Jim trekked up and down the aisles, looking over each item carefully. Now he was here in the bright, fluorescent lights, he really didn't want to go back outside. The poor kid at the counter looked like he was about to have a nervous breakdown though. Perhaps slowly walking up and down each aisle wasn't the best of ideas. It would make Jim's night if the kid called the cops because he was behaving suspiciously.
Grabbing the closest item, a family block of chocolate, Jim made his way to the counter and pulled his credit chip from his back pocket. Having made his purchase, Jim hesitated briefly before plunging back out into the night. Now he had to walk home the long way, through the park. Great. Best idea ever. But he couldn't go back the way he'd come. So, creepy park at night with possible axe murderer on his tail.
Plastic bag in hand, Jim jogged across the road, slipped into the park and cursed himself for choosing this route. The tree canopy blocked the lights and made everything just that much creepier. Even the late night city sounds were muffled and faint.
He'd made it to the middle of the park before a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Jim jumped what felt like half a foot in the air and cursed.
"Whoa there princess, no need to be such a fraidy cat." Gary grinned and Jim caught his breath.
"Sorry, I just felt like someone was following me, is all. Creeped me out." Jim sighed, running a hand through his hair. Whatever he'd felt before was still there. It just felt like his mystery stalker had taken a step back. Gary's presence was a godsend.
"You sure you're alright?" Gary asked, eyes worried. "You look really pale."
Jim just nodded, not really trusting his voice. It had been a terrible evening and he really needed to get home. Next time he was taking him comm with him. Fight or no fight, Spock should at least be informed when Jim felt like he was in danger.
After a quick pat on the back, Jim was on his way, Gary's eyes on his back as he exited the park and turned down his street. The home stretch felt longer than it ever had before and Jim sunk to the floor once he was inside. He took a few moments to breath, collect himself. If Gary had noticed his unease, Spock surely would. He'd been there the last time something like this happened.
"Get a grip, get a grip, get a grip." Jim murmured, steeling himself for the journey to the kitchen. He needed a drink and Spock's spice tea would calm his nerves.
He pushed himself up off the floor and moved cautiously through the foyer, through one of the formal dining rooms and into the kitchen. His hands shook slightly as he unclasped the plastic bag and it dropped onto the counter. He leaned over the wide counter space, up on his tiptoes reaching for one of the higher shelves.
A hand reached past and grabbed the tea box, placing it and two tea cups onto the bench.
"Jesus, fuck. Spock." Jim leant, elbow resting on the counter, face in his hand, as he regained his breath. What was it with people and sneaking up on him?
"Jim?" Spock's hand brushed against his shoulder, tethering him to the present. It was ok. It was fine. He was safe. Spock was here.
"Can I have tea in bed?" Jim asked, looking down at his feet. He felt foolish now. He'd turned back into that little boy who needed Spock to save him. He was an adult for fuck's sake. An adult who wouldn't mind a warm body pressed against his own. Even if it was only leg to hip, drinking tea under his covers. They'd talk about the stupid Kobayashi Maru in the morning. Right now, he wanted his friend back.
Guesty: I'm glad everyone could see what I was doing last chapter. c: No kiss, yet, but is a hot beverage under covers good enough? ;) I just update a lot to get more reviews from you. ;) It's my personal challenge. No promises for next chapter though. Mondays are a bad day for writing. Too busy.