Thank you to everybody who read or reviewed the last conversation. You are all lovely.
We have a slightly different format for this chapter. Jim and Spock will be utilizing deep space text messaging. Because of course, Jim managed to figure out a way to send discrete messages to Spock, while on an uncharted planet. It's not paranoia if they're out to get you and therefore he doesn't want Starfleet to read what he's writing.
Day 197: Parenting is Hard
James: I know it's after midnight, sweetie, but I wanted to give you an update because it's hard for me to sleep without you. Day one on the planet has gone well. The team has done so much work down here. It is an M class planet as we suspected. The luscious plant life, edible vegetation, and a mineral that we may be able to use as a power source will probably put this on Starfleet's 'want to colonize' list because of course. Although, I'm glad to be down here getting to work on it firsthand.
Cuddle Spock: You are glad that you were able to turn over your HR duties to others.
James: You know me so well, Cuddle bunny. The fact that there are no deadly dangerous creatures anywhere, especially of the red variety is a bonus. Although I prefer the cold to the sweltering heat.
Cuddle Spock: I am never going to be forgiven for the Delta Vega transgression?
James: I totally forgive you because I know that you were having a moment. Although, if you really want to make it up to me, you can tell me what you're wearing. Or send topless selfies.
James: Keep it tasteful, though. Or not, since this is not going anywhere near the Starfleet servers.
Cuddle Spock: I should have realized that because you are messaging me on our own devices on a non-Starfleet frequency, you wish to engage in communicator sex. I blame Nyota for setting this up.
James: You're so smart, sweetie. This was all me. Okay mostly. Yes, Nyota helped because she is a goddess.
Cuddle Spock: I do not wish to engage in this activity currently or at all.
James: Oh, come on, I send you slightly inappropriate emails all the time when you're on the bridge. In Vulcan, but still, I do wipe everything. I am going to be down here a week. I also have a tent all to myself, and Scotty guaranteed me it was soundproof. So, let's begin this by telling me what my oh so ridiculously sexy husband is wearing right now.
Cuddle Spock: I do not see the need to tell you what I am wearing when I am aware that you are dressed in your standard-issue mission wear.
James: Actually, I am wearing shorts because it's after midnight and still 33°C. In my mind, I'm picturing you wearing something similar, even though I know you're wearing your standard-issue Starfleet pajamas with the nano-fiber that keeps you extra toasty, so I don't sweat into the blankets when we are sleeping. I only want to sweat in bed when orgasms are involved.
James: And since I can't sleep without you and you're aware of the one thing that always puts me to sleep, I thought you could help.
Cuddle Spock: I am unable to assist you, due to being informed by the computer in Peter's room that he is having a nightmare.
James: Which means you need to check on him?
James: It's not unexpected. He's been having a lot of nightmares. I mean his mom and a lot of his friends died. So, of course, he is having nightmares. He did see his mom attacked by the evil parasites of death.
James: Hey, did you get the kid back to sleep? That totally killed the mood, but the kid comes first. I want to get him a Teddy bear, but I feel like he would say he was too old for it. What do you think?
James: So, it's been half an hour, and I probably could hack into Peter's security feed, but I feel that would be a total violation of his privacy. The nightmare protocol feels terrible enough. Still necessary, after he broke the lamp last week.
James: Okay, it's now been 45 minutes and no update. I am a little concerned and halfway tempted to have engineering being me back.
Cuddle Spock: Hey, Jim, it's Margarita. Spock told me to grab his personal PADD and contact you. He doesn't want it on the record. Come back to the ship. Peter had a panic attack. Spock needs you because it turns out Vulcans don't do well with panic attacks.
James: Fuck. On my way up. I'll be back to the ship in 15.
To be continued.