Obviously this is a continuation from the previous two weeks.
My prompt was fairly simple, Spock clears up any confusion.


If there was one thing Jim didn’t care for it was games. He wanted people to be straight with him and not hide behind anonymity. He’d never had a secret admirer and he wasn’t about to start. He tossed the rose in the trash.

Valentine’s Day was for fools and suckers. And Jim wasn’t about to be either one.

Okay, maybe his mood wasn’t the best. Jim could admit that.

His door chimed and he turned with a sigh.

Ship’s business would surely distract him from this ailment.


When Spock stepped inside he quarters, Jim nearly ordered him out. But then caught himself. Spock was not responsible for Jim’s bad mood. Maybe indirectly, sure, but not really Spock’s fault.


And after that brilliant opening, Spock remained silent, his gaze going past Jim to the little trash bin next to Jim’s desk.

“You did not appreciate the rose?” Spock asked.

“That?” Jim snorted. “Someone’s idea of a joke, I guess.”

“A joke?”

Jim crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What can I help you with?”

“I confess I am at a loss at present.”

He frowned. “A loss? About what?”

“Romantic gestures. The advice I have been given is apparently wrong.”

“Advice? You mean Uhura?”

Spock nodded. “Indeed.”

He tapped his fingers on his sleeve. “You got bad advice on romance for Uhura?”


Jim blinked. “But you said—”

“From Uhura not for her.”


Spock sighed. There was no other word for the sound his first officer made. “Everything I have tried has been unsuccessful. I can only come to the conclusion that my interest is not reciprocated after all.”

“Everything you’ve tried? For who?”

“You cannot be this obtuse.”

“Excuse me?”

The sigh again. “The rose, a declaration of affection, was left in your quarters by me. Since only a very few senior officers and your yeoman have access to your quarters at all, I would have thought it was fairly obvious.”

Jim stared at him.

“I attempted to ask you to a concert on Risa which you refused.”

“Wait, what? You were with Uhura.”

“Nyota and I were attending the concert as friends. It was her suggestion that I ask you, as it would be a casual, relaxing atmosphere in which to learn your interest.”

“My-my interest?” Jim felt a little faint.

“I also invited you to play chess last night, you refused the invitation. There were other attempts if you would like me to mention them.”

“Spock, I had no idea you wanted me to go the concert with you. I thought you were being polite.”

“I am not known to care for such social graces.”

Jim licked his lips. His heart was hammering. “That-that day was not good for me. It was Sam’s birthday and—”

“Yes.” Spock took a step closer. “I thought perhaps you would like to be distracted from your melancholia. But you did not appear to wish for a distraction.”

Jim bent down and retrieved the rose. “This is from you?”

“Yes. I was told it was an appropriate gesture for Valentine’s Day. I confess I have no notion how to be romantic in any way.”

Jim smiled and stepped up to Spock, holding the rose. “I don’t know, Mister Spock. I think maybe you’re doing okay.”

Spock stared at him, dark eyes unreadable yet intense. “Then may I presume my interest is reciprocated after all?”

“Are you kidding?”

“Vulcans do not—”

Jim laughed. “Yeah, I know.” He kissed Spock, right on the lips, the lips he’d wanted to taste, well since, forever, really. In all his forevers.

Spock’s hand curled around the nape of Jim’s neck, drawing him in closer.

“In fact—”

“It is time to be quiet now,” Spock murmured against Jim’s lips.

He tried to be affronted, but damn Spock could kiss. “Okay, I get it. Live in the moment. Because—”


He smiled against Spock’s mouth. “Shutting up.”

Another Spock sigh. This one sounding warmer and softer somehow. “At last.”