Jim looked at the sky above, noticing the increase of clouds coming in. With a frown, he noted the decline in temperature as well.
A storm was on its way and though it was a bit cliched, Jim could, in fact, feel it in his bones. Years of misuse had given him arthritis in just about every joint.
Spock still wasn’t back from his trip to San Francisco. He was expected back that evening, but with the volatile weather, Jim guessed it was possible his shuttle flight would be delayed until morning. At least. Since Jim didn’t know how long this storm that was coming would last.
He finished loading the wheelbarrow with firewood and brought it to the back door of their house. It took a few trips to get it all inside but Jim wanted to prepared to have plenty of wood for fires if Spock made it home in time. His Vulcan got cold easily and not appreciate the probable snowstorm.
He had plans for a vegetable minestrone soup for dinner too.
Jim checked his messages but there was nothing from Spock to indicate he wasn’t coming, so he decided that was a good sign. He got to work building a fire and putting the soup on.
He decided he’d lost track of time, because before he knew it, he heard the sound of a hover car just outside the house. He went to the window, and sure enough, Spock was getting out of a hover taxi, bags in hand.
Warmth blossomed in Jim’s chest as he went to the front door to greet his husband. He opened the door and drew Spock into his arms.
“You made it before the storm hit.”
“I left early for that very reason.”
Jim thoroughly kissed him. “That explains why I thought I’d lost track of the time. God, I’m thrilled you’re here. I have the fire going and soup is on.”
Spock’s lips curved as he pulled Jim in for another kiss. “I am glad to be home.”