Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto)

Category: Flash Fic

  • Flash Fic, December 31, 2020

    So I was going to post this a few days late for NYE on Monday January 4th, but decided what the heck. It should go up now. I don’t know if I’ll figure something else out for Monday now, but here you go.

    This is a sequel to 2018’s His Heart Remained Cold.

    Photo by VisionPic .net on Pexels.com

    New Year’s Eve – One Year Later

    “What are your plans for New Year’s Eve with Jim?”

    Spock does not know how to answer Leonard’s question. Jim has so far not specified any particular plans for them. Though Spock has been back in Admiral Jim Kirk’s life for a year now, a year to the day of New Year’s Eve, their relationship is not what it had been prior to Spock’s mistakes. He had hoped Jim would forgive him, but the truth was there was distance in Jim’s gaze even now.

    “The Admiral has not disclose any plans for us.”

    “You didn’t plan anything? Sorta your anniversary, isn’t it?”

    “Anniversary?”

    “Your reconciliation.”

    Spock hesitates. “I do not believe Jim feels reconciled.”

    Leonard frowned. “What do you mean?”

    “He holds him back from me. A year later he still does not trust me. He believes I will leave again.”

    His friend sighed. “He’s a tough egg, Spock. He was really devastated when you left.”

    “I know. I suspect we will have a quiet night at home.”

    And it ends up being just that.

    Jim never speaks of any celebratory plans and when Spock get to their apartment in San Francisco after his late lunch with McCoy, Jim is already there and his usual subdued self.

    Subdued since their so-called reconciliation, that is.

    “Hi.” Jim smiles at Spock and for the barest moment it warms Spock like it once did. The sun shines on his heart and he feels once more that Jim is his las’hark.

    But the smile fades away, quickly, and Jim turns away to make himself coffee in the kitchen.

    The “hi” suddenly seems less welcoming, more a greeting to a stranger than to a lover, to a husband. Spock’s side twists.

    “Jim.”

    He speaks the name softly almost reverently. Those blue eyes turn to him, seeking an answer Spock doesn’t know.

    “Do you-do you want to go somewhere to celebrate the new year?”

    Jim shakes his head. “No, let’s just stay here. Not really in the mood for crowds.”

    Neither is Spock, really.

    “I could make us some dinner,” Spock offers.

    “I’m not really hungry at the moment. Later maybe?”

    Spock begins to nod, but stops the motion as Jim has already turned away. He feels trapped in a nightmare of his own making, because, yes, Spock is aware that he had caused Jim to fall out of love with him.

    He offers the only thing he can at this point.

    “Jim, may we speak?”
    Those eyes return to his, and there is something in that gaze that frightens Spock, but he tries not to let it. He thinks he could so easily misstep right now, and it is that that scares him.

    “Okay.”

    He draws Jim to a chair in the living room and has him sit. Spock thinks about standing above him, but that seems like he would be hovering and threatening in his body language and Spock does not wish to come off that way, so he drops down to his knees in front of Jim, noting the surprise there in those eyes.

    Those eyes, so blue, have haunted Spock for so long.

    Spock takes a breath. “Jim…”

    “You’re leaving again,” Jim guesses.

    And the pain of it hits Spock in the stomach like a physical blow.

    “Neg…no,” Spock changes to the more simpler word at the last minute. Somehow the more intimate word, though he’s not sure why that is. “I will never leave again.”

    He can tell that Jim still does not believe him. He doesn’t say, but Spock is able to read it in that closed off look he has had in his eyes for far too long.

    “Even now, as I am aware that I have…lost your love…if all I am to have is your companionship, then I will accept that, and cherish it.”

    Jim stares at him for so long, Spock has no idea what his response will be. Part of him fears that Jim will send him away. Spock doesn’t know what he will do if that is the case.    

    “You’re wrong.”

    Spock does not know how to react or what he is wrong about. He remains nonplussed.

    “You haven’t lost my love,” Jim clarifies. “I’ll always love you. That can’t and won’t change.”

    Spock does not allow himself to feel relief. “But?”

    Jim shakes his head. “I still don’t…” He stops, blows out a long breath.

    “Trust me. Trust that I will not leave.”
    “Yeah. I mean, you loved me before, I was your T’hy’la before. And you left anyway. It’s hard, Spock.”

    Spock knows this. “Your heart remains cold.”

    Jim sighs. It’s not a mean sigh or even resigned. It is simply a breath of air that seems somehow filled with both trepidation and promise.

    “Take me to bed.”

    “Even when we are intimate, you hold back from me.”

    “I know,” Jim acknowledges. “I won’t. Not tonight. It’s-it’s been a year. Perhaps a new beginning?”

    Spock will take whatever chance he can have with Jim and so they move from the living room to their bedroom.

    Lovemaking is good. Very good. And as Spock moves inside Jim, it does feel different. More them. As they once were. More intimate, more feelings of love.

    He lies in his back afterward, holding his sun to him, his las’hark. It feels somehow more hopeful than it has the past year, though Spock knows things are still far from perfect. He has a lot of work to do still to gain back Jim fully.

    But this feels like a start.

    He places his hand on Jim’s chest, over his heart. His chest feels very warm this night, warmer than he has felt in a long time, and it as though the warmth comes from within.

    Spock opens their bond, hesitantly, though he does not force Jim to do the same. If Jim wishes to join Spock there he will.

    Outside, fireworks go off and Spock knows midnight has come. It is a new year.

    “Happy New Year, T’hy’la.”

    He waits for Jim to speak those words in return, but they do not come verbally.

    He feels them all over his body, through his veins, his muscles, and at last, in his mind.

    Happy New Year, Spock.    

    Jim has joined

    “What are your plans for New Year’s Eve with Jim?”

    Spock does not know how to answer Leonard’s question. Jim has so far not specified any particular plans for them. Though Spock has been back in Admiral Jim Kirk’s life for a year now, a year to the day of New Year’s Eve, their relationship is not what it had been prior to Spock’s mistakes. He had hoped Jim would forgive him, but the truth was there was distance in Jim’s gaze even now.

    “The Admiral has not disclose any plans for us.”

    “You didn’t plan anything? Sorta your anniversary, isn’t it?”

    “Anniversary?”

    “Your reconciliation.”

    Spock hesitates. “I do not believe Jim feels reconciled.”

    Leonard frowns. “What do you mean?”

    “He holds himself back from me. A year later he still does not trust me. He believes I will leave again.”

    His friend sighs. “He’s a tough egg, Spock. He was really devastated when you left. He needs time.”

    “I know.” 

    And Spock has a lot of time. He is not sure Jim has. Jim is young for an admiral still, and yet, from the ambassador, Spock knows there is never really enough time. Not with Jim. 

    “I suspect we will have a quiet night at home.”

    And it ends up being just that.

    Jim never speaks of any celebratory plans and when Spock get to their apartment in San Francisco after his late lunch with McCoy, Jim is already there and his usual subdued self.

    Subdued since their so-called reconciliation, that is.

    “Hi.” Jim smiles at Spock and for the barest moment it warms Spock like it once did. The sun shines on his heart and he feels once more that Jim is his las’hark.

    But the smile fades away, quickly, and Jim turns away to make himself coffee in the kitchen.

    The “hi” suddenly seems less welcoming, more a greeting to a stranger than to a lover, to a husband. Spock’s side twists.

    “Jim.”

    He speaks the name softly almost reverently. Those blue eyes turn to him, seeking an answer Spock doesn’t know.

    “Do you-do you want to go somewhere to celebrate the new year?”

    Jim shakes his head. “No, let’s just stay here. Not really in the mood for crowds.”

    Neither is Spock, really.

    “I could make us some dinner,” Spock offers.

    “I’m not really hungry at the moment. Later maybe?”

    Spock begins to nod, but stops the motion as Jim has already turned away. He feels trapped in a nightmare of his own making, because, yes, Spock is aware that he had caused Jim to fall out of love with him.

    He offers the only thing he can at this point.

    “Jim, may we speak?”

    Those eyes return to his, and there is something in that gaze that frightens Spock, but he tries not to let it. He thinks he could so easily misstep right now, and it is that that scares him.

    “Okay.”

    He draws Jim to a chair in the living room and has him sit. Spock thinks about standing above him, but that seems like he would be hovering and threatening in his body language and Spock does not wish to come off that way, so he drops down to his knees in front of Jim, noting the surprise there in those eyes.

    Those eyes, so blue, have haunted Spock for so long.

    Spock takes a breath. “Jim…”

    “You’re leaving again,” Jim guesses.

    And the pain of it hits Spock in the stomach like a physical blow.

    “Neg…no,” Spock changes to the more simpler word at the last minute. Somehow the more intimate word, though he’s not sure why that is. “I will never leave again.”

    He can tell that Jim still does not believe him. He doesn’t say, but Spock is able to read it in that closed off look he has had in his eyes for far too long.

    “Even now, as I am aware that I have…lost your love…if all I am to have is your companionship, then I will accept that, and cherish it.”

    Jim stares at him for so long, Spock has no idea what his response will be. Part of him fears that Jim will send him away. Spock doesn’t know what he will do if that is the case.   

    “You’re wrong.”

    Spock does not know how to react or what he is wrong about. He remains nonplussed.

    “You haven’t lost my love,” Jim clarifies. “I’ll always love you. That can’t and won’t change.”

    Spock does not allow himself to feel relief. “But?”

    Jim shakes his head. “I still don’t…” He stops, blows out a long breath.

    “Trust me. Trust that I will not leave.”

    “Yeah. I mean, you loved me before, I was your T’hy’la before. And you left anyway. People I’ve cared about have been leaving me all my life. I got used to it. But you…I thought it would be different.” Jim lowers his head, looking down at his fingers clenched in his lap. “It’s hard, Spock.”

    Spock knows this. “Your heart remains cold.”

    Jim sighs. It’s not a mean sigh or even resigned. It is simply a breath of air that seems somehow filled with both trepidation and promise.

    His gaze is softer when he looks up at Spock. Warmer. Spock’s heartbeat quickens.

    “Take me to bed.”

    “Even when we are intimate, you hold back from me.” Spock isn’t sure this is the right thing to say, and yet he cannot help but say it. But there is no change in Jim’s expression. It is still warm and soft. 

    “I know,” Jim acknowledges. “I won’t. Not tonight. It’s-it’s been a year. Perhaps a new beginning?”

    Spock will take whatever chance he can have with Jim and so they move from the living room to their bedroom.

    Lovemaking is good. Very good. And as Spock moves inside Jim, it does feel different. More them. As they once were. More intimate, more feelings of love.

    He lies on his back afterward, holding his sun to him, his las’hark. It feels somehow more hopeful than it has the past year, though Spock knows things are still far from perfect. He has a lot of work to do still to gain back Jim fully.

    But this feels like a start.

    He places his hand on Jim’s chest, over his heart. His chest feels very warm this night, warmer than he has felt in a long time, and it as though the warmth comes from within.

    Spock opens their bond, hesitantly, though he does not force Jim to do the same. If Jim wishes to join Spock there he will.

    Outside, fireworks go off and Spock knows midnight has come. It is a new year.

    “Happy New Year, T’hy’la.”

    He waits for Jim to speak those words in return, but they do not come verbally.

    He feels them all over his body, through his veins, his muscles, and at last, in his mind.

    Happy New Year, Spock.    

    Jim has joined their bond and Spock feels a tear escape.

    It is the new beginning Jim mentioned.

    Spock will cherish it.

    their bond and Spock feels a tear escape.

    It is the new beginning Jim mentioned.

    Spock will cherish it.

  • Flash Fic, November 30, 2020

    The Thought of You is Consuming Me….

    The Clothes they’d wear

    It was easier for him to come to my estate. I stayed there alone during the off season save for a few servants who looked after me. My family, consisting of my mother and brother, preferred to stay in London full-time, only coming to the country estate rarely.

    I knew that for my mother it held too many memories of the husband she had lost far too young, and for my brother, he wanted not only to look after her, but he liked to be closer to the action of London, even in times when the social set were absent.

    I preferred the comfort and solitude the country afforded me, now more than ever, when I could have visits with Chris.

    The middle of autumn was among my favorite times at my estate. The weather was crisp, clean and pure. Far away from the soot and smoke and dastardly fog of London. The leaves turned. The truly cold air made your lungs feel like you were indeed alive. And the nights by the fire, sipping port with my lover. Yes, I loved this time.

    Chris would come and see me a few days at a time, and whatever he told his family, he never elaborated. It was our time together and we allowed no one else to intrude.

    Chris was always provided a room of his own, though he never stayed in it. He always slept with me, even on the rare nights it didn’t become physical between us. I kept very loyal, well compensated servants at the estate who knew not to gossip or question our arrangements.

    After my cook prepared our least meal for the day and the staff cleaned up, assuring themselves I needed no further care, they went off for the evening, to their homes in the village or on the estate itself, and left Chris and me to ourselves. They never returned before late morning, knowing neither of us were particularly early risers.

    I suspected they were as loyal and efficient as they were because as serving positions went, my requirements were really quite low and easy, allowing them a lot of free time. When I was not there, they had even less to do, though I continued to pay them to care for my family’s home and lands.

    One late November night, after they had departed, Chris and I lounged together on a sofa in the library, sipping port. He had positioned himself so that he was between my legs, his back against my chest, as he read some heavy tome he had chosen from said library. I pretended to read the London newspaper, but I was more interested in the port and watching him.

    I loved the way his tongue poked out as he read a particular passage in the book. He was adorable. The whole thing struck me as rather domesticated, though I knew we could never truly be a couple accepted by our peers.

    One day, perhaps not soon, we would not be allowed this amount of freedom. Yes, we would still meet. Still steal as much intimacy as we could. For the rest of our lives, as we had vowed. But these were times to be treasured. Before such demands of society changed this.

    “Mmm?” Chris leaned back further to glance up at me, his head lying upon my chest as those blue eyes searched mine.

    “What?”

    “You’re thinking quite loudly tonight, Zachary. What’s on your mind?”

    “You,” I admitted. “Us.”

    Chris smirked. “Do you wish for me to put the book away so we can retire to bed then?”

    “No,” I murmured. “I have been enjoying this.”

    He patted my hand that I had resting on his thigh. “Me too.” He took a sip of his port. “But let me know when you’re ready. You know how engrossed I can be.”

    I did know and it was one of the many, many reasons I loved him.

    I brushed my fingertips over his hair and then went back to my London news and that wonderful feeling of domesticity.     

    And that is a wrap for November….on to my Spirk Hallmark Christmas Story.

  • Flash Fic, November 27, 2020

    I hadn’t always been eager for the arrival of my son, to be honest. We’d had a tumultuous relationship for many years.

    Nobody could argue I hadn’t handled things well after his birth as the Kelvin died and my son’s father right along with it. Not even me.

    I was long haunted by the final sound of his voice just before it winked out forever.

    At first I had drowned my sorrows in a lot of drink, something I came to realize Jim did as well. It was tough for me to raise two boys on my own, one who would never know his father, and the other one full of a burning, bitter resentment at not only the loss of the father he barely knew, but at being left behind while his father and I were on the Kelvin. Left with grandparents that had long forgotten what it was like to deal with a young curious boy.

    I suspected that leaving George Samuel with George’s parents had been wise as I wasn’t sure if he’d had survived the Kelvin. Many of our friends had not. While it was true George’s actions had saved some eight hundred lives, he couldn’t save all of them, no one could. The Kelvin’s captain had been among the casualties.

    And it was the tormented grief of a widow left behind with those boys that caused me to drink and make the terrible choice of Frank.

    Frank who’d driven George Samuel away for good, as neither myself nor Jim ever found out what happened to him once he hitchhiked out of Riverside one particularly difficult day.

    Both of us tried, sometimes together, sometimes apart, to learn my older son’s fate, but never with success. That grief stays with me always. And my own inadequacy.

    I know there are those who judge me lacking as a mother, but certainly never as much as I judge myself.

    Frank who’d sent my youngest son away to a colony called Tarsus IV that nearly destroyed him and likely changed him forever.

    And it was those actions that finally opened my eyes to how awful Frank truly was.

    When Frank left, or I made him leave, I got my son back. Damaged yes. And a stranger. We were both strangers to each other.

    I had quit Starfleet at last, lucky with the drinking, I suppose, that they hadn’t dishonorably discharged me, and taken on the task of raising my son, as I certainly always should have done.

    But it wasn’t at easy between us at first. When he was just a teenager I had to bail him out of jail for a horrific fight he’d gotten into. He would never tell me exactly what started it, but there were others that told me things were said about him and his family, things he had been unable to tolerate.

    He was eighteen before I stopped the drinking. He’d had to clean me up after one particular nasty binge, and the next morning he had looked at me with blue eyes so like my own, and they were hard like ice.

    “I won’t ever do that again.”

    He meant it.

    And I decided right then, I would never give him a reason he’d have to.

    We became close then, I told him about his dad, and we bonded in a way we hadn’t before.

    We became estranged again when he came home one night, bruised and battered, after getting in a fight with some Starfleet thugs in a downtown bar.

    After I was done fussing over him and his injuries, declaring angrily I intended to contact those in charge to file charges, Jim told me he was enlisting the next morning at Christopher Pike’s urging.

    We spent the better part of the night arguing about this decision. I’d been filled with a dread I could not shake that he would end up just like George. And maybe George Samuel. And Jim was all I had.

    But Jim was the most stubborn of all of them combined and in the morning he had kissed my forehead, told me he loved me, and left anyway.

    There were those who thought I should express pride in Jim’s decision. They simply did not understand what it was like to lose everyone you ever loved.

    We didn’t speak for a while. Me because the second most stubborn person I knew after Jim was me. And Jim because he decided it was better not to worry me.

    When he died after Khan, and yes I learned about it, and I visited him in a San Francisco Starfleet hospital, I think my point had been paid. I never expected him to be revived, but I had expected him to die.

    But this time, I didn’t let go of him. I’d learned some lessons myself and become less stubborn. And though I still didn’t get to see him nearly enough, and he still didn’t tell me how many times he almost died, we kept in touch, and I loved him.

    I’d been absolutely thrilled when he notified he was getting very rare shore leave on Earth and pretty much giddy when he revealed he intended to spend those days with me in Riverside at a farmhouse that was suffocatingly lonely most of the time.

    He further thrilled me by notifying he was bringing with him, his new significant other, his first officer, Commander Spock. He had written me about the change in their relationship, but I had never met the Vulcan.

    And they were coming in November, and it made me decide I had to have a feast. Not at all for a prodigal son, but for being thankful. Thankful for my beautiful, heroic, and alive son, who seemed to suddenly happy to be with Spock. And thankful for that Vulcan, who at last chose my son over everyone else.

    Yes. I was eager.

    So eager that I awaited their arrival at the shuttle bay, not waiting for them to come to the farmhouse.

    Jim did not appear to be at all surprised when he saw me waiting. He nudged the tall, dark haired man with him.

    “Told you,” he said with a grin.

    And as they approached, I immediately approved of and liked Spock just by the indulgent affection he had in those dark eyes of his for my Jim. He won me over instantly.

    Jim and I embraced for a very long time. It had been years since I got to hold my son, and I had missed him painfully. His hold of me was tight and comforting. I didn’t want to let go of him and I was frankly of the opinion I wouldn’t want him to leave to return to his beloved Enterprise either.

    But finally, Jim pulled back, gentle and sweet, as he touched my cheek and smiled at me. He turned to Spock.

    “Spock, Mom. Mom, Spock.” He laughed. “Obviously.”

    “It is very much a pleasure,” Spock greeted me.

    “Oh, it’s all mine, believe me. I can’t wait for us to all go back to the farmhouse.”

    Jim gave me a smile. “Us too. But…oh wait. There’s one thing.”

    I looked a question at him. “What?”

    “Well.” He exchanged a look over my head with Spock. “A surprise.”

    “A surprise? Oh, Jimmy, you know I don’t like surprises.”

    He laughed. “You’ll like this one.”

    And then suddenly as if appearing by thin air, a very tall, sandy haired man with familiar blue eyes appeared next to Jim and Spock.

    My heart stopped, then quickened to a rapid pounding, my lungs seizing, as I knew him instantly, though I had not seen him since he was a boy.

    My eyes filled with tears as he came toward me, arms outstretched. I flung myself at my older son, who squeezed me tight.

    I looked over at Jim with blurry vision and mouthed “How?”

    He shrugged. “Surprise.”

    And I burst into tears completely lost for the day.

    But it was okay. Amazing even.

    Amazing.    

  • Flash Fic, November 25, 2020

    Once more we spend time with Jim and Spock from the Who Does Spock Wake Up With series of flashes (last seen around Halloween)

    Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

    Jim is nervous bringing Spock to meet his mom. There’s nothing wrong with his mom and nothing wrong with Spock, for that matter, but he’s never taken that kind of step before and it feels big.

    There’s a short break from the Academy that allows them to make the trip to Riverside by Shuttle. Since it coincides with what used to be Thanksgiving where Iowa is, Mom has decided to have a feast like they did before to show gratitude for what they have.

    Jim reminds her several times Spock is a vegetarian but even though he is sure he must be annoying about it by now, Mom dutifully accepts the reminders and tells him not to worry.

    He’s not left Spock out either. He’s told his boyfriend many times not to expect much, they live in a simple farmhouse outside of Riverside, there’s nothing fancy, and it might be cold.

    “Yes, so you have said,” Spock says again, as they finally board the shuttle.

    Jim’s palms are sweaty and he feels a little queasy and he knows it’s all ridiculous. Mom will love Spock and Spock will be nice to his mom. He has nothing to worry about.

    Except he loves Spock. He does. And as he’s sitting on the shuttle making their way to his mom’s idea of an old-fashioned Thanksgiving, Jim wonders if he’s ever said those words to Spock. Spock’s a touch telepath, yes, and Spock is always touching him, so surely he knows, but maybe Spock wants the words. He replays all their interactions in his head, mostly to distract himself.

    Then he recalls that yes he has and he lets out a sigh of relief.

    “Thank God.”

    “Jim?”

    “I…I was trying to remember if I had said I love you. You know out loud.”

    “You have.”

    Jim smiles. “Yes.”

    “And I returned that declaration.”

    His smile widens. “I remember.”

    Spock takes Jim’s hand. It is under a table on the shuttle that is placed in front of them so they can enjoy beverages should they wish to, so the sight of their clasped hands is mostly hidden from anyone nosey enough to pay attention. Jim doesn’t think anyone is.

    “Everything will be well, Jim. There is no need for such nerves.”

    “Yeah. I’ve just. It’s a lot.”

    “Wait until you meet my father.”

    Jim laughs because Spock says it so dry he thinks Spock is trying to lighten things up with a joke. Spock’s lips are curved upward a tiny bit. And Jim has met some of Spock’s stodgy Vulcan friends.

    “Is the point of the upcoming feast to show what one is grateful for?”

    “Yep.”

    Spock squeezes Jim’s hand. “I am most grateful to be with you and to have you invite me to meet your mother.”

    Emotion overwhelms Jim’s ability to speak, but he leans in and gives Spock a very quick, chaste kiss.

    He’s not less nervous, not really, but he feels good, and knows Spock is right. Everything will be well.

  • Flash Fic, November 23, 2020

    We will see these two cuties again in 2021. The “so far” only roommates!

    Photo by Edward Eyer on Pexels.com

    It was nearly time for the winter break at the Academy and Spock’s roommate, Jim, had not said anything about what his plans were for the break.

    Spock was, of course, merely curious. Whatever Jim decided to do would have no direct effect on him. And yet, one evening as the date quickly approached, Spock decided to ask.

    It was a Friday and Spock anticipated Jim would likely go out to party as most cadets do. Jim didn’t do it that often, Spock noticed, but he did it certainly more than Spock.

    Jim was dressed quite casually, nonetheless, wearing a pair of faded and ratty looking jeans, a burgundy tank top, and nothing on his feet. He was putzing, as he called it, around the kitchen.

    “Jim, are you planning on vacating the dorm during the winter break?” Spock asked.

    Jim was spraying whipped cream out of a can directly into his mouth when Spock asked. He took a moment to swallow, lick the cream from his lips, and then set the can on the counter.

    “Nah. I’m not going anywhere.”

    “No?”

    Jim shrugged. “As you know, my mom’s on her ship. She’s pretty much the only family I have these days since my bro took off when I was just a kid. No need for me to go back to Iowa to an empty house. I figure I’ll just stick around here.” Jim smiled. “How about you? You going to Vulcan?”

    Spock inclined his head. “I thought to stay here also. I had considered spending the break on Vulcan, but since my parents were just here and I visited with them, I have decided to forgo a visit at this point.”

    “Oh. Cool.”

    Spock hesitated. “Unless you wished to spend the break alone here.”

    Jim laughed. “Why would I care about that? We’re living together in this dorm now. The break doesn’t make any difference. Hey, we can keep each other company.”

    “Indeed.” Spock found himself somewhat pleased at this prospect. “Are you headed out tonight?”

    “Nope. Gonna stay in. Get a pizza and watch old time Christmas movies on the couch.”

    “That sounds…interesting.”

    “I don’t know about that.” Jim grinned and then took out his communication device, presumably to order his pizza.

    Spock wanted to ask to join Jim, but words failed him. He had hoped Jim might say something rather casually like, ‘want to watch with me’, but he didn’t. And Spock was far too shy to insert himself into Jim’s plans.

    Yet he was surprised to hear Jim’s pizza order.

    “Two cheese pizzas. One with vegan cheese please. Yep. Okay.”

    Jim smiled at Spock. “Be here in about forty minutes.

    “Jim, you ordered one with vegan cheese.”

    “Sure. Aren’t you going to want some?”

    Spock blinked. Did not answer at first.

    “You aren’t going to join me?”

    “I…am. Yes.”

    Jim’s smile brightened. “Then vegan cheese. Trust me. You won’t regret it. It’ll be fun.”

    Spock cared not at all for the holiday movies, but he was pretty sure Jim was correct. He would not regret it.  

  • Flash Fic, November 22, 2020

    Little something extra inspired by Shatner’s classic Deep Fried Turkey video.

    Photo by Ekaterina Bolovtsova on Pexels.com

    “Jim.”

    Jim looked up from the contraption he’d set up in their side yard. He was on his hands and knees, inspecting it. He was dressed in old beat up jeans and a yellow plaid flannel shirt. Over that he had a jacket, as, though it was only November, the chill in the air was quite pronounced.

    “Yeah?”

    “Perhaps we ought to pre-order our Thanksgiving meal from CJ’s.”

    CJ’s was a restaurant in the city nearby that Jim quite liked. They had a sparing amount of vegetarian dishes also. They had been advertising their “Heat-N-Serve” meals since the beginning of the month.

    Jim frowned. “CJ’s? Why?”

    “You like CJ’s,” Spock reminded him, rather than directly answer.

    “I do, yeah. But we can get CJ’s any time. This is special. I want to use this.”

    Spock pursed his lips. “But…”

    “Bones will appreciate it too.”

    “Perhaps then you ought to wait for Doctor McCoy to arrive before you…”

    Jim leaned back on his haunches a bit and glared up at Spock. “What are you getting at, Mister?”

    “Last year, attempting to deep fry your turkey did not…go well.”

    There had been a fire and burns. Both of Jim’s hands had to be bandaged. They were fortunate that was the only part of him burned.

    “I’ve learned a lot since then. I won’t do that again.”

    “You also like roasted turkey. We could put it in the oven. I can assist.”

    “I want a delicious, juicy turkey.” Jim pouted a bit.

    “And it will be, roasted in the oven,” Spock assured him. Not that he knew anything about eating turkey. Jim had already made a menu for them that included many vegetarian dishes. Far more than they could get at CJ’s, admittedly.

    Jim sighed then. He struggled to his feet. He looked mournfully at the fryer he had obtained after the one from last year burned up. “But what’ll I do with this?”

    “Return it?” Spock suggested gently.

    “Return it? But…you don’t think I can handle it, do you?”

    “I would rather not take the chance, Jim. It was very frightening last year.”

    “Fine.” Jim sighed again. “Fine. I don’t want to freak you out.”

    “I appreciate that. Come inside. I’ll fix us something warm to drink.”

    Jim cast one last glance at the fryer, then went up the steps to follow Spock into the farmhouse.

    “How does hot cocoa sound?”

    Jim’s steps faltered. “Coco? Does that mean…”

    Spock smiled slightly. “Yes. Happy Thanksgiving.”

    Jim grinned. “Feeling better already.”

  • Flash Fic, November 20, 2020

    It was all over except the goodbyes. And they were happening.

    It was, admittedly, a huge relief to Spock. He’d never really wanted everyone over, of course. It wasn’t that he had a problem with their guests. Really, he did not.

    But life with Jim was still so new and special, he didn’t really like anyone interfering with that. And then there was all the fuss Jim had gone through.

    His boyfriend had risen early and spent all day cooking and fussing. They had so much food left over, even with giving care packages to their friends and family, it couldn’t put a dent in it. They would never eat it all.

    The pie contest had been called as a tie, thankfully. And perhaps Spock had a little something to do with persuading the judges to declare it so. But at the end of the day, Jim and McCoy seemed satisfied.

    Jim lingered at the door, hugging everyone. Well, except for Spock’s dad.

    Finally, Jim closed the door, with promises to have breakfast with his mother in the morning, and dinner with Spock’s parents’ tomorrow night. Still far too much socializing.

    Spock looped a finger in the belt-loop of Jim’s pants and pulled him away from the door, turning him around to face Spock, then drawing him into his arms.

    Jim sighed wetly against Spock’s neck, snuggling close. “God, I’m exhausted. I think I’m barely standing.”

    “It is no wonder. You were up early and overdid everything.”

    “Anything worth doing is worth overdoing,” Jim muttered against him. “Everything was so good too. I’m happy about the way it turned out.”

    “You should be. I believe everyone considered it an enormous success.”

    Jim pulled back to smile at Spock. “Yeah?”

    “Very much so.” Spock kissed him. “What are your plans now, my love?”

    “Clean up and then veg on the couch with a big turkey sandwich.”

    Spock stared at him. “You wish to continue eating?”

    “Well.” Jim laughed. “Sure. It’s a tradition.”

    Spock shook his head. “You go relax on the couch, I will clean up.”

    Later, when Spock was done, he went to check on Jim, who was snoring away. With an affectionate sigh, he leaned down, scooped Jim up and carried him to their bed.

    “Didn’t get the turkey sandwich,” Jim mumbled.

    “Tomorrow.”

    “For breakfast.”

    Spock shook his head and leaned down toward Jim. “Goodnight, Jim.” Spock kissed his forehead. “And happy gathering. Next year, I hope we will be in space.”    

    thank you, this concludes this little short series of vignettes on this Academy couple.

  • Throwback Thursday #8

    The Rose which was posted February 10, 2017

    This Jim might beat all Jims for being incredibly obtuse

    Photo by Jovana Nesic on Pexels.com

    They were getting a rare bit of shore leave. And on Risa, of all places. But Jim didn’t feel at all happy about it. Partying hard was the last thing he wanted to do. More like drowning in his own sorrow.

    But Jim took his rotation and made his way down to the planet surface. He spotted his favorite Risian bar right away. It was ridiculously crowded and not at all what he wanted. So Jim turned away to seek another establishment.

    While he tried to figure out where to go, Jim was surprised to see Spock beaming down as he’d always told Jim he didn’t need shore leave. So being surprised, Jim invited him on instinct.

    “Mister Spock. Surprised to see you here.”

    “Indeed, Captain.”

    “I’m about to go sit and have a drink. Want to join me?”

    He hesitated for the barest of maybe ten seconds, but his gaze moved beyond Jim to where Jim noticed, for the first time, Uhura stood waiting. She had changed into a blue dress with a deep vee, exposing an ample amount of her breasts. The dress had a handkerchief hem and reached down to about the middle of her calves. She had little matching blue slippers on her feet. She wore her long hair loose. She looked pretty. Ready to take on the pleasures of Risa.

    Spock glanced back at Jim. “Nyota and I have plans to attend the concert in the garden courtyard. Would you care to accompany us? You are welcome.”

    Jim would rather eat boiled slugs. But he made myself smile and shook his head. “Nah, that’s okay. You go ahead. Enjoy the concert.”

    Spock inclined his head but then said nothing further as he quickened his pace to join her. They spoke briefly about something before she linked her arm with his and they continued walking in the direction of the garden center.

    For a brief time Jim had thought…but no. Bones had said there had been trouble between them during the Krall incident. But whatever it had been had obviously been resolved.

    And really, it was not Jim’s business. It never would be.

    He turned away from the sight of them and kept walking until he found a fairly quiet bar. Jim sat at the far end of the bar counter and ordered two whiskey sours.

    “Two drinks when you’re drinking alone is not good.”

    He glanced at his best friend and smiled. “How’d you find me?”

    Bones took the seat next to him. “Followed the smell.”

    “Ha.”

    He gestured to the drinks the bartender had set before Jim. “What’s up?”

    “It’s his birthday, you know.”

    Bones frowned. “Who’s?”

    Jim stared at the drinks, left them untouched for now. “Sam.” He picked one up and swirled it in the glass. “Or was.”

    Bones was quiet for a while. Then he said, “I’m real sorry about your brother and his wife.”

    “I hadn’t seen him in years.” And yet his loss still hurt.

    “Have you heard from your nephew?”

    And that was weird, wasn’t it? Having a nephew but no brother.

    “This was his favorite drink.”Jim took a sip.

    “You’re ignoring the question.”

    “I haven’t. It’s difficult with him being on Earth. And Aurelan’s parents are raising him now.”

    Jim heard the low whine of the tricorder Bones held in his hand as it scanned him.

    “Bones.”

    “Damn fool thing. According to this, you’re dead.”

    Jim smiled slightly. “I guess you need a new one. Unless I am.”

    “You aren’t. And I’m going to see it stays that way.”

    He pushed the other whiskey sour toward Bones. “Have a drink with me for Sam.”

    He picked it up and they clinked glasses, both taking a sip.

    “I resented him, you know. For leaving.”

    “I can imagine.”

    “Mostly because he got away.” Jim swallowed heavily. “He never had to go to Tarsus either.”

    “No,” Bones agreed.

    “But he went to Deneva.”He sighed. “Birthdays suck.”

    “Yeah.”

    Jim finished the drink, letting it burn down his throat and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “God, this is a shitty day.”

    “Want me to get Spock?”

    Jim laughed. “For what? So he can parade his girlfriend in front of me? No thanks. I think I’m just going back to the ship and sleep for twelve or fourteen hours.”

    As Jim rose, Bones put his hand on Jim’s upper arm. “You’re depressed.”

    Jim snorted. “You think?”

    “I’m concerned, goddamn it.”

    “I’ll be fine, Bones.”

    “Jim—”

    Jim hugged him then, because at the moment it really felt as though he was the only one who cared. Stupid and wrong, Jim knew. But even still.

    “Why can’t I love you instead?” Jim whispered.

    He shook his head. “I wish I knew. Life doesn’t work that way.”

    Jim nodded and pulled away. “Not for me. I do love you.”

    Bones paused, his eyes becoming very sad. He nodded, then looked away. “I love you, too, kid.”

    Jim looked at the now empty glasses on the bar. “Happy Birthday, Sam.”

    ****

    A few days later, Jim found himself on the Observation Deck   

    He’d come up here to get away from everything. The celebrations. It was Valentine’s Day and the rec room was decorated with glitzy red hearts and cherubs holding arrows. Pink frosted cakes. Bad candies with sayings written on them. It was too much to take. Especially when as he was preparing to leave anyway, he saw Uhura come in wearing dangly red heart earrings. He heard her asking people if Spock had arrived yet. That was definitely Jim’s cue to leave.

    So here he stood on the Observation Deck looking out at the stars. And speaking of stars, Jim still had to file his report on that star that turned out to be an undiscovered planet. He added it to his mental to do list. Sounded like a great way to spend a night about love, when he had nothing else to do.

    He sighed and crossed his arms, leaning slightly forward so his forehead touched the glass. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t waste time feeling sorry for himself. It never got him anywhere but more depressed. And if he didn’t knock that off, Bones was going to insist he talk or some shit.

    And as if on cue the door to the room he was in slid open. He knew he should have locked it.

    “What’s up, Bones?” Jim asked.

    “I am not the doctor.”

    That had him turning sharply to face Spock. His first officer was dressed casually in black slacks and a maroon sweater. Very Valentiney looking.

    “Uhura’s not here, Spock.”

    Spock looked slightly puzzled but then tilted his head. “I am not at present seeking to locate Nyota. I am aware of her location in the rec room.”

    Jim nodded. “What are you doing here then? Orders from the ‘Fleet?”

    “None that I am aware of, at present. My purpose is of a personal nature.”

    Jim gave what he hoped was an encouraging smile but he feared it was not. It was Valentine’s Day. And his mind conjured up Spock asking Jim for permission to go to New Vulcan to bond with Uhura or something. And Jim would die.

    Spock approached him and stood next to him, gazing out at the stars. “I trust you enjoyed your shore leave on Risa?”

    So, small talk was it? Great.

    “No. Not particularly.”

    “You did not?”

    “I only spent a very short time there with Bones before I went back to the ship and spent the remainder of the time catching up on sleep. How about you? Did you and Uhura enjoy the outdoor concert?”

    “Yes. It was stimulating.”

    “Stimulating,” Jim repeated. He did not want to think of what they did after they were stimulated by the concert. “So what is it? Uhura was looking for you, so you probably want to go.”

    “You are troubled.”

    That surprised Jim so much that he glanced at Spock in surprise. “Excuse me?”

    “If there is anything I can help you with—”

    “Did Bones put you up to this?” Jim saw from the quick flash of guilt that was barely there in Spock’s expression that he had got it exactly right. “Well, I’m fine. And you can tell him that too. I don’t need you running interference for him or whatever it is you are doing.”

    “I just don’t wish for you to be overwhelmed.”

    “Overwhelmed?” Jim repeated incredulously. “I’m not overwhelmed, Mister. And I’d thank you to mind your own business.”

    Spock straightened at that and maybe Jim ought to take it back. He didn’t know.

    “I have reports. Enjoy your evening.”

    Jim left the observation room with Spock’s mouth hanging open.

    He almost stopped to give Bones a piece of his mind but decided he was just better off letting himself cool down and he went to his quarters instead.

    Lying in the middle of the bed was a single long stemmed red rose.

    A single red rose shows love.

    Jim had read that somewhere.

    He went to the bed and picked it up but there was absolutely no indication where it came from.

    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.

    “Enter.”

    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.

    “Hey.”

    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?”

    “Negative.”

    Jim blinked. “But you said—”

    “From Uhura not for her.”

    “Huh?”

    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—”

    “Jim.”

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

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

    Thanks for reading the throwbacks…this is the last one

  • Flash Fic, November 18, 2020

    Photo by Nishant Aneja on Pexels.com

    Spock watched as his boyfriend frantically ran back and forth through their apartment, making food for their friends and family. He did what he could do to assist him, but Jim often shooed him away, declaring he wanted to do most of it himself.

    Spock had finally been sent out to get more tea, he thought they had plenty, and whipped cream. It was a little chilly out, so Spock had dressed himself in the sweater Jim had given him for his last birthday.

    But as he stood there, Jim didn’t even seem to notice he had returned. And he smelled something burning.

    “Jim. Something has burned…”

    Jim stopped and gave him a look. He looked crestfallen. “I know. I burned the crust of one of my pies. Now I have to start all over.”

    “Start all over…Jim. Didn’t you make three pies?”

    “Yes.”

    “Won’t the other two pies be enough? Considering McCoy is making a pie as well, that seems more than enough.”

    Jim sighed. “It’s not. And anyway I can’t possibly let Bones beat me in pie making.”

    “What is the difference?”

    “You just don’t know me at all!” Jim threw up his arms and turned away from Spock.

    Spock decided he desperately needed meditation. He loved Jim. He did. So much it was nearly overwhelming in the best of times. These were not the best of times. When he got like this, Spock just did not know what to do.

    He put the tea and whipped cream on the counter and left to their bedroom to meditate and leave Jim to overdo.

    Spock reemerged later to find Jim lying on the couch, asleep.

    He saw three perfectly baked pies cooling in the kitchen and many other dishes Jim had made ahead of time. Many of them were vegetarian.

    Spock knelt down next to Jim on the couch. His recently acquired glasses were crooked on his face. Spock carefully removed them, set them aside, and leaned down to kiss Jim gently.

    Jim opened his eyes and stared at Spock. “Hi.”

    Spock smiled very slightly. “Hello Jim.”

    “Are you mad?”

    “Not at all. Are you?”

    “Course not. I didn’t mean to make you leave.”

    “It was best for both of us that I meditate. May I suggest that tomorrow you allow me to assist you?”

    “I’ll try. Want to join me here?”

    Spock looked at the small couch. “Not a lot of room.”

    Jim smiled. “Not a lot needed. Come on. I see you’re cold. Sweater looks good on you.”

    Spock kicked off his shoes and placed himself on the couch after Jim moved over. He was right, there wasn’t really enough room, but as Jim’s body was mostly on Spock’s, he found he did not mind.

    Tomorrow all their friends and family would invade, and he would have no time alone with Jim, but for now…this soothed him.