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“Just because we had sex doesn’t make us married.”

Those harshly spoken words played over and over in his head like a stuck melody.

He was an ass, no doubt about it, and it had cost him everything.

Now he was alone on shore leave, probably alone period, and nursing a double scotch and staring out to sea, dealing with a broken heart.

He’d spoken unthinkingly, what else is new, in a moment of annoyance at Spock’s rather heavy-handed attitude. Naturally his Vulcan lover, former no doubt, had bristled at the rebuke and excused himself from Jim’s company.

That had been yesterday afternoon and Jim hadn’t seen him since.

Shore leave was over tomorrow. He’d be beaming back on board the Enterprise in late morning.

He only hoped a transfer request wasn’t waiting for him.

He’d rented this cozy little seaside cottage.  The lanai looked out over the ocean, and Jim was reclining on a rattan lounger, doing just that.

He was just a bit startled when a shadow fell across him in the late afternoon sun. He peered up and was startled to see Spock standing above him, looking down in barely disguised disapproval.



Jim pursed his lips. He was at fault, he knew he was. But damn it was hard to apologize.

“Spock, listen, I, uh, I was an ass. I’m sorry for what I said. I was drunk and pissy and the stuff you were saying was rubbing me the wrong way.”

“So it is my fault?”

Jim sighed. “No, no, that’s not what I’m saying. It’s completely my fault. And I’m sorry. I hope we can continue to work together as a command team in spite of all that.”

Spock stared at him. “All what?”

“The end of our relationship.” As brief as it was. They’d had sex, what, on two occasions?

“You give up so easily?”

“Well, no, I mean, well I…”

“Jim, if you thought I was overstepping—”

“I did, yes,” Jim admitted. “But the thing is, I don’t have a lot of experience—”

Spock raised his brow.

“With relationships. Other than the sex part.” He paused. “I have that part down.”

The Vulcan nodded. “Clearly.”

“Does that mean…well are we still, uh, you know.”

Spock sighed. “Yes, we still are. However, in the future if you think I am overstepping, I request you find a more polite way to inform me. I am quite aware we are not married.”

Jim winced. “Yeah. Uh. Like I said, I was being an ass. And I’ve thought about it and it was just a slight overstep, and I overreacted. I’m really sorry I spoiled our shore leave.”

“Fortunately, we still have one more night.”

Jim set his scotch down on the ground beside him. “C’mere.”

“We will both not fit.”

“I’ll make us fit.”

Spock shrugged slightly and joined Jim on the lounger. And Jim was right, they fit.