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Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto)

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Continuing story

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.

Let Nothing You Dismay Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Dinner With Spock

Jim watched as Spock carefully patted his mouth with the paper Christmas napkin he’d set the table with. The napkins had an old-fashioned Santa design on it and Jim had to admit the serious Vulcan wiping his mouth across Santa was kind of an amusingly strange sight.

“The spaghetti is quite good, Jim.”

“Thanks.” Jim said with a shrug. “It’s really simple and easy.”

“But tasty.” This from Lily.

Jim laughed. “Thanks, sweetie.”

“Mister Spock, do you believe in Santa?” Lily asked, turning her big blue eyes on Spock.

Jim hid a smile behind his own napkin. He cleared his throat and waited for Spock’s response.

“I am at heart a scientist, Lily,” Spock replied. “I have no evidence either way.”

She scrunched up her face. “What does that mean?”

“It means you probably ought to stop pestering Spock,” Jim said, gently.

“She is not pestering me.”

Lily gave a little shrug. “Daddy believes in Santa, don’t you, Daddy?”

“Of course I do, angel.”

She nodded, smiling to herself.

“Lily wrote a list for Santa, of course.”

“Of course,” Spock murmured. “What is on your list, if I may inquire?”

“I want a kitchen.”

“A kitchen?” Spock asked, clearly surprised.

“A toy one,” Jim said.

Lily bounced. “Yep. With play food and stuff. And a dolly. And maybe a bicycle. Pink or purple. And a pretty dress. Like with pink or purple or yellow ribbons. And a picture book. And a kitty cat.”

Jim laughed. “You added a cat?”

“Uh-huh.” Lily grinned. “And I even asked Santa for something for Daddy.”

“She won’t tell me what.”

“I want it to be a surprise, Daddy.”

“Naturally,” Spock said.

“Naturally,” she mimicked.

After dinner, Spock helped Jim clean up and then they all went to the living room to watch a Christmas movie, and then Jim put Lily to bed.

Spock still sat in the living room, quietly sipping the tea Jim had made him before taking his daughter up.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t take too long, I hope.”

“You did not. Your daughter is adorable.”

“Thank you. She really liked you too.”

Jim sat next to Spock on the couch, as close as he could, really, without being in Spock’s lap. But judging by the welcoming warmth in Spock’s eyes, he didn’t mind.

“So, I was wondering what a tall, dark, and gorgeous Vulcan like yourself is doing in a dump like Riverside, anyway.”

“It is a long story.”

“I have time.” Jim paused. “That is if you want to tell me.”

For a long time, Spock merely stared into Jim’s eyes, and Jim started feeling just a little lightheaded. He leaned forward a little, not even aware he was leaning in to meet Spock’s lips. They touched, pressed together, and Jim felt the heat from Spock’s mouth and his spice tea.

Jim moved closer still and opened his mouth to let Spock’s tongue slip in. He closed his eyes and let Spock take over this deepening kiss. He felt Spock lift his fingers to his jaw, holding him in place.

When Spock pulled away, just a little, Jim opened his eyes. His breaths were shortened.

“What?” he asked, after a moment.

Spock shook his head. “Perhaps next time, you can find a babysitter and you can come to my place?”

Jim licked his lips. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“As would I. For now, to keep this from getting too far, while your daughter is near, perhaps I ought to answer your question.”

“Yeah, okay.” He laughed. “Yeah.”

Spock retrieved his teacup. “Let me tell you about Solek.”

Let Nothing You Dismay Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Moving Forward

Jim’s second day went much easier than the first. But it was even busier. Apparently word of mouth was already spreading through the locals and Gad-Shen was swamped with people wanting to try the new restaurant.

Jim barely had a chance to breathe, but he was pleased he didn’t drop anything, and even managed to get customers their food, hot and everything.

He didn’t speak much with Gaila or Uhura as they’d all been too busy, but he did catch Uhura giving him dirty looks, so he guessed she had discovered Spock’s interest in him.

Well, Jim wouldn’t apologize because Spock made his own choices, and Jim liked him too, so whatever.

As the day wore on, Jim had an idea about having dinner with Spock. He hadn’t yet asked Maggie or anyone else about watching Lily, and if Spock didn’t go for his current idea, he certainly would.

But he couldn’t bring it up until after shift, and just as the day was nearing closing time, Gaila took him aside.

“Hey, Jim, we were going to go have a quick drink after work. Uhura and me. Want to join us?”

“Normally I’d probably say yes but…” Jim looked in Spock’s direction. Currently he was at a table of diners speaking with them. They appeared to be packing up to go boxes.

Gaila followed his gaze. She raised her eyebrows. “Oh? You work fast, my friend.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “I’m not working. Not at that anyway. I’d go next time. Just not today. Someone watches my daughter, so I really need some advance notice. I can’t keep expecting Maggie to take care of Lily like it’s not my responsibility.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t bust a fuse, man.” Gaila laughed. “Next time for sure. I’ll tell you in advance. Maybe Mister Wonderful will come too.”

Jim’s only answer was to stick out his tongue. Mature, sure. But he smiled and moved on.

It was another thirty minutes before everyone else had left and he had Spock to himself to ask.

“So.”

Brilliant start, Kirk.

“Yes, Jim?”

He blew out a slow breath. “I was…about dinner. I know this might be, um, something you don’t want to do or whatever, but I was thinking you could, maybe, come over tonight to my house and I could make you dinner. You could meet Lily. And then I wouldn’t have to find someone to watch her. I know it’s crazy. Right? Way too soon or something. You know what? Never mind, I’ll just…”

Jim.”

He turned back around and looked at Spock, who seemed rather amused by his rambling invitation and then take back.

“I would like to come.”

It took a moment for Jim to realize Spock was accepting and not laughing in his face. Not that Vulcans laughed. Much.

“Yeah?” It came out kind of squeaky. He cleared his throat. “That would be great. I’ll just give you the, uh, the address. You can come, I don’t know, around six?”

“Yes, I will be there. I look forward to it.”

“I’m not a fancy cook or anything.”

Spock nodded. “I am not a fancy eater. I am vegetarian, however. Not vegan, but I will not eat meat.”

“Oh I know. Sure. Okay. Great. See you then.”

After giving Spock the address,  Jim escaped before Spock could change his mind.

Let Nothing You Dismay Chapter 6

Chapter Six: A Vulcan’s Curiosity

Spock wasn’t even sure what had possessed him to ask Jim Kirk for tea, except that he found himself very curious about the young man.

And attracted to him. Jim was extraordinarily attractive. There was simply no denying it. With his sandy colored hair, blue eyes, and engaging smile. It didn’t hurt that he had a very nice body and a cute butt too.

Yeah, well. Spock was a bit of a butt man.

At first, Spock had believed Jim to be only interested in females, but he hadn’t failed to notice the interest in Jim’s eyes when he looked at Spock, so he felt safe in asking Jim out. For just something as casual as tea at first.

The teashop was just a few store fronts down from Gad-Shen. Spock frequented it since coming to Riverside to open the restaurant.

In all honesty, opening a restaurant was not Spock’s dream or inclination. It wasn’t where he saw himself in a few years. But he’d made a promise to his one and only friend growing up on Vulcan. Another Vulcan named Solek. During their childhood friendship Solek had shared many times with Spock that he wished one day to open a Vulcan themed restaurant on Earth someday. Like Spock, Solek was only part Vulcan. Only a quarter actually, so he’d been bullied ever more than Spock. Solek’s father was from Riverside, Iowa, and it was there that Solek wanted to open his restaurant.

But less than a year ago, Solek became ill and had asked Spock on his death bed, basically, to open the restaurant Gad-Shen in his place. Spock knew he would not run it forever, but he would get it established, and successful, as Solek had dreamed of and was unable to accomplish.

And the fact that Spock chose to go to Earth to open Gad-Shen for Solek had annoyed Sarek no end.

Jim chose the holiday themed gingerbread tea and Spock chose orange spice.

There were only a couple of tables in the shop for two people and Spock chose one for them to sit.

“What is your daughter’s name?”

“Lily.” Jim smiled. “I call her my angel.”

“I saw her from across the street. She was precious.”

“Thank. She’s even cuter in person.”

It was quite clear how much Jim loved his daughter. And that, of course, made Spock even more curious. Or nosey his mother might say.

“Are you divorced from her mother?”

Jim put sugar and milk in his tea, then picked it up and leaned back in the chair. “Nah. There’s a bit of a story there.”

“I do not wish to pry but I admit I am curious.”

Jim smiled and waved his hand. “I don’t mind telling. I had a friend, Ruth. She came to me one day and said she wanted to have a baby and would I help her out. At the time, it was understood that Ruth would raise her on her own. She knew I like guys, so my role was just as the sperm donor so to speak. Ruth was inseminated in a laboratory.”

Spock blinked at him. “I had assumed…”

“Everybody does. You’re not alone. Well, unless you already know me, I guess. Anyhow, the procedure was successful, and Ruth got pregnant with Lily. During that time she took me aside and asked me if anything ever happened to her, would I take care of Lily?”

“That is a lot of responsibility when you thought you were just assisting her with having a child,” Spock said, musingly.

“Yep,” Jim agreed. “And I’ll tell you the truth, Spock, it didn’t really occur to me that she was asking me this because she already knew then that she was sick.”

Spock stared at him. “She what?”

“Uh-huh. Ruth found out she had a fatal illness in her second trimester. She didn’t tell me. I thought she was just asking, generally, you know if when Lily was twelve and she got hit by a hover bus or something.” Jim shook his head. “Not that I thought that would happen either. But I didn’t think she had asked me for a real reason. And Lily was mine, you know, because I donated. Ruth didn’t really have anyone else. Her parents had both died and she had no siblings. I think that was why she wanted Lily in the first place. To have a family when she didn’t have one.”

“But to hide the truth from you.”

“Yeah.” Jim nodded. “I agreed, obviously. And maybe that was my mistake. Should have asked more questions. I was young and stupid, and I wanted to help her. She was my friend. Anyway, after Lily was born, I learned the truth. Ruth only lived six months after Lily was born, and I’ve had my angel ever since.”

“That is very admirable.”

Jim smiled. “Not really. And what else could I do? I couldn’t have her go to foster care. Something like that? So, there’s nobody but me. And her. For a while, my mom helped me. And then she got sick too. Cancer. So…now it literally is just me and Lily. When the shipyard laid me off…” Jim blew out a breath. “Times are hard here. If not for seeing your sign, I guess we’d have to go somewhere else to find work. So, thank you.”

“It is my pleasure. And thank you for explaining. It all makes a lot more sense now.”

Jim looked at his watch then. “I really should go pick up Lily. But this was great, thank you.”

“I would like to have a formal date soon if you are able. Dinner at some point?”

“Sure, let me arrange for someone to watch Lily and I’ll let you know.”  

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 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 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.

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.

Flash Fic, November 16, 2020

A Continuation from 11/13

“They’re just migraines, babe. Nothing at all to worry about,” Jim assured Spock as he sat on the edge of the exam table.  

“I will be the judge of that.”

Bones snorted. “Actually I will.” Bones ran a medical scanner over Jim. “When did these headaches start, Jim?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Spock sniffed. “Three weeks ago. He has them nearly every day.”

“Traitor,” Jim muttered.

“Mmm.”

“Let me put you through some tests.”

“Can’t you just give me a shot or something?”

“We’ll see.”

“You coming Saturday?”

Bones rolled his eyes. “You know I am. Pie in hand.”

Spock frowned. “Another pie?”

Jim nodded. “Bones and I are having a pie making contest. Whoever makes the best pie is king of the pies.”

“And?”

Jim looked at him. “That’s it. They just get the title of king of the pies.”

“Illogical.”

“Your granny,” Bones cracked.

Spock sighed. “Is this an apple pie contest?”

“Yep,” Bones replied. “Nobody makes a better apple pie than the McCoy family recipe. You’ll see, Jim. You’ll be crying all Saturday afternoon.”

“You wish.”

“Why would Doctor McCoy wish you to cry all afternoon?”

Jim smiled. “Cause he’s a meanie.”

“Ignore him, Spock. He’s just afraid he’s gonna lose and everyone will throw his apple pie in the trash.”

Jim stuck out his tongue and McCoy put an instrument on it. “Hey!”

“Actually, Jim, I don’t think you’re sick.”

“See!” Jim crowed triumphantly.

“The headaches?”

“Pretty sure it’s eye strain. Too much computer work. I’ll test him to be sure but Jim just needs glasses.”

Jim mumbled.

“What was that, Jim?”

“I have some, I just don’t wear ‘em. Make me look like a geek.”

“It’s not the glasses, Jim.”

“Shut up, Bones. Mom looked into getting my eyes fixed when I was a teenager but I was allergic to all the treatments. My eyes got better.”

“Apparently not,” Spock said calmly. “He will wear them.”

“Probably need new ones if the ones you have were when you were a kid. We’ll get that started too.”

Jim sighed. “Fine. Damn eyes.”

“They are quite beautiful,” Spock told him.

Jim smiled.

Bones retched. “I’m right here you two, love birds. I’ll be right back. With a shot.”

“I thought you said I just need glasses.”

“I’m a meanie remember?” Bones smiled evilly and departed.

Jim sighed, pouted, and said, “He really is.”

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