Jim noticed Spock was walking slightly hunched up as they approached Spock’s quarters after they’d had dinner in the mess.

Spock hesitated for just a minute before pressing the control for opening the door and Jim was pretty sure he knew why.

He followed Spock inside though and let the door close behind them.

“You know if you don’t want me to spend the night with you, it’s okay to say.”

Spock turned dark startled eyes on him.

Jim smiled. “I know it’s still new between us and if need your space then…”

“That is not it. I just…my back is paining me and I do not believe I will be up for sexual activity.”

“I thought it might be bugging you. Hang on. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Spock looked confused, adorably so, but Jim went toward Spock’s bathroom, remembered the new ship didn’t have connecting bathrooms, and with a sigh walked out of Spock’s quarters to his own.

After changing quickly out of his uniform, he got the supplies he needed, and then went back to Spock’s quarters.

Spock eyed him. “What are you wearing?”

“Sweats and a tank top. This is my uniform.”


“Uh-huh. Strip down and lie on your stomach.”


“Relax. I’m not a sex maniac. Okay, I am, but I can control myself. I’m going to give you a massage.”


“Yep. Back before I became the sexiest Starfleet cadet on two legs—”


“Cadet Rashah.”

Spock nodded.

“Anyway, back in Riverside I was trained on massages. So at least take your shirts off and lie down on your stomach.”

After Spock complied and was on his stomach in the bed, Jim reached into the little sack he’d brought with him for some oil.

He could see Spock had his neck turned so that he could watch Jim’s movements.

“When did your back start bothering you?”

“After the battle on Cathica 12.”

“That Klingon kicked your back pretty hard. You refused treatment from Bones.”

“His methods normally turn my stomach.”

“Vanilla, strawberry or lemonade?”


“Essential oil. I rub it into your back muscles.”


Jim nodded. “Good choice.”

He crawled up onto the bed and squirted out the essential oil to apply liberally all over Spock’s back.

“It is cold.”

“I know. Not for long.”

Then he started massaging Spock’s back, rubbing the oil into his back, paying attention to the spots that made Spock grunt and especially tight areas.

After a while, Jim realized Spock had fallen asleep.

Being careful not to jostle the bed, he got back off, packed up his oils and went to return to his own quarters.

“Computer lights off. Temperature raise 15 degrees.”

“Love you,” Jim whispered, as he exited the quarters.