Jim looked at the sky above, noticing the increase of clouds coming in. With a frown, he noted the decline in temperature as well.
A storm was on its way and though it was a bit cliched, Jim could, in fact, feel it in his bones. Years of misuse had given him arthritis in just about every joint.
Spock still wasn’t back from his trip to San Francisco. He was expected back that evening, but with the volatile weather, Jim guessed it was possible his shuttle flight would be delayed until morning. At least. Since Jim didn’t know how long this storm that was coming would last.
He finished loading the wheelbarrow with firewood and brought it to the back door of their house. It took a few trips to get it all inside but Jim wanted to prepared to have plenty of wood for fires if Spock made it home in time. His Vulcan got cold easily and not appreciate the probable snowstorm.
He had plans for a vegetable minestrone soup for dinner too.
Jim checked his messages but there was nothing from Spock to indicate he wasn’t coming, so he decided that was a good sign. He got to work building a fire and putting the soup on.
He decided he’d lost track of time, because before he knew it, he heard the sound of a hover car just outside the house. He went to the window, and sure enough, Spock was getting out of a hover taxi, bags in hand.
Warmth blossomed in Jim’s chest as he went to the front door to greet his husband. He opened the door and drew Spock into his arms.
“You made it before the storm hit.”
“I left early for that very reason.”
Jim thoroughly kissed him. “That explains why I thought I’d lost track of the time. God, I’m thrilled you’re here. I have the fire going and soup is on.”
Spock’s lips curved as he pulled Jim in for another kiss. “I am glad to be home.”
It wasn’t often Jim was around for his mother’s birthday. In fact, he couldn’t even recall the last time. Vaguely he had memories as a child of celebrations surrounding it, surrounding her, but as an adult? No.
She’d told him once that since her birthday was right after Valentine’s Day, growing up she’d often had a heart-shaped cake. And so on his way to see her, he’d picked up a heart-shaped cake at the bakery. The frosting was a light pink rather than an overdyed red. He’d brought her a bouquet of flowers too,
He wondered if they’d let him bring the cake, but the stern nurse at the door just glared at him, so he figured that was as close to permission as he was going to get.
The Enterprise was in San Francisco at the moment, undergoing some needed upgrades, so her crew had a few days off. He would rather not be visiting his mother on her birthday in a Riverside hospital, but she was there, so what choice had he had?’
She’d had a small stroke, just a teeny one she had assured him, but they were keeping her there for a few days to observe.
He located room 215 and went through the open doorway. Winona Kirk sat up in her bed with her head turned to gaze out the window. It was snowing that day.
A memory flashed of her in the hospital when he was pretty young, his grandmother had brought him, and he had scrambled onto the bed, yelling, “Mommy!” before he’d been scolded to get down.
“Mom,” he spoke softly.
She turned her head to look at him and he noticed the slight droopiness of the left side of her mouth, but she smiled.
“Jimmy”
“Happy Birthday.” He held out the brightly colored tulips, her favorite. Her eyes lit up. “I know it’s not tulip season, it’s a bit early, but I found these.”
“They’re beautiful. I’ll have a nurse put them in a vase.”
He set them on a nearby table.
“A cake too.” He showed her.
“Ah, you shouldn’t have,” she protested, but he could see she was pleased.
He placed the cake next to the flowers, approached the bed, and leaned down to kiss her. He straightened.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. Even better now that my baby is here.”
He rolled his eyes but smiled. “Not a baby.”
“I didn’t say you were a baby I said you are my baby.” She gestured to her face. “They say it’s supposed to get better. I have to do some physical therapy.”
She patted the edge of the bed and he sat there.
“I’m glad I got the chance to see for myself.”
“Me too. It’s been way too long since I got to see you. How’s life on the Enterprise?’
“Good. Still going where no one has gone before.”
“Have you got a certain someone?”
“Mom.”
“Well?”
“Maybe.”
Her eyes lit up. “You have one!
“Maybe not.”
“James Tiberius!”
He grinned and took her hand. “Just—”
“Jim?”
He rose and turned to see Spock standing in the doorway of his mother’s hospital room. “Hey, Spock, come meet my mother.”
J requested this. Or something like it. And I think I may have screwed it up some but um, I tried. I’m pretty sure this look prompted the request Er…yeah.
Now that he stood outside Zach’s door, Chris felt a bit stupid.
His hair was too long and unkempt and his straggly beard was snowy white. And maybe, yeah, he wasn’t caring much about his appearance these days. Maybe he was a bit depressed and in perhaps a mid-life crisis. He was past forty and had nothing really to show for it. No current SO, no really hot career. He was just…doing okay. And that was starting to get to him.
He’d been sitting around his house drinking a beer and looking at old shots of his friends and loved ones he hadn’t looked at in a while. He’d come across a few pictures of Zach with an old boyfriend. He’d been with a guy that would be called a “bear”. A hairy, masculine-looking beefy guy. It had only been a brief thing, true. But he also came across a picture of Zach himself looking like that. Hairy with a fully, bushy beard. Was that what Zach liked?
Sure Zach’s last serious boyfriend wasn’t anything like that but…
Okay, clearly Chris had too many beers.
But he was here now and he was committed.
Or should be committed, maybe. That was probably it.
He rang the bell.
He could hope that Zach wasn’t there. That would be ideal, actually. He could just turn around, and slink back home like the hairy beast he was. Sure, the paps would snap more pictures to post about how he no longer looked like a hot babe, as if he ever did, but he’d deal with it. Yeah, definitely too many beers.
What he did not want to happen would be, whatever twink Zach was currently seeing, opening the door. And of course, Christopher, you idiot. He liked twinks not bears. Not hairy beasts like him.
The door was yanked open, like Chris had been leaning on the buzzer and Zach was annoyed.
Oh.
Chris dropped his hand from the buzzer.
“What the hell…”
Zach stopped talking and merely stared at Chris.
Zach, for his part, was clean-shaven. Every hair was picture perfect. He looked…well…fucking gorgeous. Like he could have any guy on the planet, why would he want Bigfoot.
“Are you in there buddy?” Zach asked with pronounced amusement.
Chris pursed his lips. “Funny. I came for a haircut and a shave. Can I come in or what?”
Zach stepped back and held the door open. “You reek.”
“I had a few beers.”
“I can tell.”
It was a few hours later. Chris had several cups of coffee. Zach had cut his hair.
“Hey, I could finally put it in a man-bun. Thought you liked those,” Chris protested. “Miles—”
“Do not say that name or I throw you out,” Zach said, sternly.
Chris clamped his mouth shut.
Zach finished shaving off the bushy white beard, leaving Chris clean shaven. Hair was still pretty gray, though. A family thing.
“So, what was with this whole look?”
“Thought you might like it.”
“Oh?”
“You know I’m doing that movie with the pool guy. I’m thinking he should have that look, you know?”
Zach nodded. “Well, guess you’ll have to start all over again, huh?” He stared at Chris with that intense way he had. “What’s really going on, Pine?”
Chris looked into his coffee but it did not, alas, have all the answers to the world’s problems. Or even his, if it came to that.
“I miss you. I miss you like crazy. And I’m…lonely, Zach.”
Zach opened his arms and Chris got up from his chair and stepped into those big, strong muscular arms.
I felt stupid the moment I walked into Spock’s office to see Nyota Uhura sitting on the edge of the desk directly next to him. The hear-shaped box I clutched in my hands slipped as my palm sweated.
Across the front of the desk, taped there, were various garish Valentine Day’s cards, no doubt doing their best to ask the Vulcan to be theirs.
“Was there something you wanted Mister Kirk?” Spock asked politely.
Uhura craned her neck to look over her shoulder at me. She gave an ugly smirk that made me hate her. I didn’t like the feeling.
There’d been rumors at the factory that she was sleeping with the boss, but up to that point I hadn’t believed it. There were also rumors he was gay and I’d wanted to believe that one. How wrong I’d been.
“I was just leaving,” she said coolly. She slipped off the desk, bent close to Spock, and said something in his ear. His only response was to nod. She straightened, gave his shoulder a squeeze, and sauntered around the desk and out the door without sparing me another glance.
Spock now gave me his full attention and it made me break out in a fresh sweat. Not that there was anything fresh about sweat.
Besides the cards, I noticed a few wrapped gifts on his desk too, pink and red. I wondered how silly he thought Humans were to celebrate such a thing as Sweetheart’s Day or whatever it was called.
I glanced down at the box I clutched and brought it forward. The box itself was dyed ruby red and then it had a cellophane wrap over that, cinched to the middle to give it an extra fancy appeal. I’d had the girl at the shop wrap it special.
I’d been an idiot.
His gaze went to the box. “I do not indulge in chocolate.”
He said it stoic and somewhat harshly as though he’d said it a hundred times that day and I supposed he must have had to do so. There was a slight derisive curl to his lip too.
“I know. This is…this isn’t chocolate. It’s an…well…it’s a carob assortment.”
“Carob.”
“It’s made from plants.”
“Yes, I know.”
He made no move to come out from behind his desk to take the box and I felt even more ridiculous. What had I been thinking?
Sure, Gaila had said…she’d been wrong, obviously.
Before I could think better of it, I slipped the lid off the candy box myself and took out a carob confection. When I was in high school I’d known a girl named Nicolette. Her parents were Dutch and they ate very healthfully. I remembered she’d always brought carob covered raisins to school.
I took a bite and blanched. “Oh, my God, that’s atrocious. Ugh. Yuck.”
I probably should have been embarrassed, but I was kind of past that, so I spit it out directly into my hand. Spock was now staring at me with wide eyes, no doubt wondering if the lunatic in his office was next going to commit some act of violence.
I spotted a tissue on his desk, so I reached for it and wiped the spit carob from the palm of my hand onto it.
“Gross,” I declared. With a disgusted grimace at my own idiocy, I turned and chucked the heart box of carob candies in the nearby trash basket. The box, which was still partially open from my having pilfered one, opened the rest of the way and spilled the contents into the trash.
“Did you just throw away my box of carob candy?” Spock asked.
I quickly glanced from the trash to him and saw how I had shocked him. I suddenly felt my face flame with heat.
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry! I did. I just…do you like carob?” I asked in a strangled voice.
He nodded but otherwise did not speak.
“Wow. Okay. Yeah. That was a super dickish thing to do. I just…I tasted it and then the thing was you had your uh your girlfriend here and—”
“Nyota is not my girlfriend.”
“And I felt super stupid to even be here when you clearly don’t want Valentine’s Day gifts from anyone and—”
“I would not have minded the box of candy from you.”
“You…what?”
Spock stood up finally and came around the desk. He walked over to the trash basket and looked down. “A lost cause, I think.”
“Yeah.”
He glanced at me. “Dinner perhaps?”
“I’d-I’d love to, but it’s really short notice to get a reservation tonight.”
“Quite. I shall have to make you dinner at my apartment.”
My jaw dropped open.
“For dessert I will make carob mousse.”
My mouth closed.
“I am in jest, of course, though there are many delicious carob mousse recipes.” Spock paused to arch a brow at me. “Do you accept?”
“Gaila said…well…she said that you might like…”
“Gaila is right. Do you accept?” he asked again.
I smiled for the first time since I’d walked into his office. “I definitely accept.”
no actual carob candies were harmed
There are a surprising amount of carob mousse recipes should you wish to look for one
Nicolette is a real person I knew in high school who brought carob raisins to school
Jim woke slowly, staring at the ceiling in his bedroom in the old farmhouse in Riverside. He didn’t know what time it was but judging by the sunlight it was late morning already.
He sighed.
It wasn’t like he had a lot of reasons to get out of bed anyway. He lived alone and felt more aches and pains in his bones due to misuse in his Starfleet days. He was nearing seventy-five and had retired some years ago.
A lot of his friends or old crew members had passed away, Bones and Scotty among them. He hadn’t spoken to Spock in years, but as far as Jim knew he was on New Vulcan.
He supposed he should get up and get some coffee. Breakfast. Lunch from the looks of it.
Grimacing at the creaking of his joints, Jim sat up.
“About time.”
Jim jumped. Standing by the window was a strange man wearing red robes and a strange purple hat.
“Who are you? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
The man smirked. “You’re in better shape than you think, Kirk. You can call me Q.”
“I think what I intend to call you is a fugitive from law enforcement as I’m about to notify them there’s an intruder in my house.”
Q laughed. “You could do that, but then you give up the opportunity to change your life.”
“Change my life?”
“You had the chance to tell that Vulcan how you really felt right after your birthday party on Yorktown, but you held back and never did. The question you have is what would have happened if you had told him and I have the answer.”
“How did you—”
“Never mind that. I’m omniscient. Do you want the chance to relive your life with that moment or not?”
“You’re crazy.”
“No doubt about that. But that’s beside the point.”
Jim frowned. Shook his head. “If I changed my life, that would change everything that happened after that moment.”
“Yes. And there’s no guarantee that confessing your feelings will have the outcome you hope either.” Q shrugged. “What have you got to lose?”
“Some good things have happened since then,” Jim protested. “All that would be changed?”
“That is the chance you take in all things James T. Kirk.”
“If I could—”
“Done.” Q snapped his fingers.
***
Jim woke, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. Above his head was a starscape, painted expertly with twinkling bright stars. The room was still dark, though a tiny bit of light shone through a gap in the curtains by the window.
The door opened to the bedroom and Jim turned his head in that direction.
“Good, you are awake.”
A light came on and Spock walked toward him, carrying a steaming hot cup of coffee. He handed it to Jim as Jim sat up. Spock then went to the window and opened the curtains fully.
“It is another fog shrouded day in San Francisco. Good morning, Jim. Would you prefer pancakes or waffles for breakfast?”
“Pancakes,” he murmured, taking a sip of his coffee. He felt…disoriented, but he wasn’t sure why.
Spock nodded. “You are teaching a class at the Academy in an hour. I will prepare your breakfast while you shower and dress.”
He smiled. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
Spock’s lips twitched. “You are welcome. And Leonard is still coming for dinner tonight. I received his confirmation.”
“Okay.” He nodded absently and took another sip of coffee. He had a feeling he was missing something, something had changed, but he couldn’t figure out what, and in the end, he didn’t care.
“So much for the Valentine’s Day party,” Jim mumbled.
Spock was certain he could not have heard his captain correctly. After all they were stranded in cave in a snowstorm on a formerly hostile planet waiting for a rescue they both knew would take some time.
And that was not by far the worst of it.
“You are injured and need medical attention and we are in a cave trying not to freeze to death and your main concern is a ridiculous frivolous inappropriate festivity on the Enterprise that you will now be unable to attend,” Spock snapped.
Jim, face almost as white as the snow falling outside the cave, grimaced. “Well, when you put it that way…”
Spock relented slightly as he had no desire to be waspish to his captain. He clamped his lips shut for a moment as he continued to set up their shelter.
Concern for Jim’s injury was making him—as Jim would say—cranky. Spock got the fire going and then turned to the emergency blankets. He wrapped one completely around his captain, who now eyed him silently.
Once Spock was certain Jim was as comfortable as possible, he set the emergency beacon near the cave entrance so the Enterprise would get their signal when they were able to return after the storm.
He then approached Jim to check on his injured leg.
“You should join me in these blankets next to the fire, Spock.”
He intended to as soon as he ascertained Jim’s state. He crouched down to look at the blaster burn below Jim’s left knee. The material of his pants had been burned away, the flesh was a sickly charred mess and there was caked blood visible.
Jim’s pained gaze met his. “Looks gross huh?”
Spock pursed his lips. “I have seen worse,” he tried to say lightly and failed. “I would feel better if the doctor were here.”
“You want Bones to be along? Boy, I must be in bad shape.”
“I will give you some pain medication, Captain.”
Jim nodded. “All right. Then come in here with me.”
Spock injected Jim with the medication from the medkit in their emergency pack, and then watched Jim’s face to see the relief appearing there.
“Better?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Spock then, having seen to everything he needed on behalf of himself and his captain, joined Jim by the fire in the emergency blankets.
For a moment, Jim stayed stiff and straight beside him, but after a time, he slowly leaned into Spock, his strength waning.
“Why are you so disappointed not to attend the Valentine’s party?”
“I’m not that disappointed, really. Just…” He blew out a breath. “I intended to make a big grand gesture there to my Valentine.”
“I see.” Spock put his arm around Jim’s shoulders to draw him closer against him for shared warmth. “I do not believe your Valentine needs grand gestures.”
Jim sagged further against him. “Are you mad at me?”
“Of course I am not. I apologize for snapping at you earlier. I am…concerned.”
“I know, but we’ll be rescued eventually.”
“Yes,” Spock agreed. “But it disturbs me when you are in pain.”
“It’s not that bad,” Jim whispered.
“I can see that it is, T’hy’la.” Spock closed his eyes for a moment. “What grand gesture?”
Jim chuckled softly. “I was going to propose.”
Spock nodded. “Very well. I accept.”
“Yeah? You do?”
“Of course, Jim. I would bond with and marry you. I do not need a frivolous party for such a thing.”
He felt Jim’s smile. Not physically, but in his mind, and Spock blew out a breath of his own.
“I think bonding will be quite easy.”
“Yeah?”
Spock took his hand and held it. “I am certain of it.”
“Who are you going to buy a Valentine’s Day Card for?”
The card slips from Jim’s hand and onto the floor as he jumps at the unexpected voice coming from behind him. He bends down and scoops it up from the floor of the shop before someone steps on it to ruin it. He abruptly puts it back in the slot of the shelf.
“Geez, Spock. Don’t sneak up on people.”
Spock arches a questioning brow at him. They are in a gift shop on the main thoroughfare in the heart of Yorktown. A couple of days from going out on the newly repaired and upgraded Enterprise.
“We are in the shop together, Captain. How could I have snuck up on you?”
“Well.” He shrugs. “You gonna get a card for Uhura?”
Spock looks like is considering it and he steps past Jim to the display. After a moment he holds up one that says something about his loving friend.
”That’s for her?” Jim asks. He is surprised, yes. Rumors were swirling that despite Spock helping to rescue her, they were not reconciling. Jim didn’t know because she had seemed like she’d wanted to at Jim’s party.
“Yes.” Spock picks up the card Jim had been studying which showed a big flashy glittery red heart. He opens it to read it. His gaze goes to Jim, but it is unreadable. “If Only You’d Be Mine?”
Jim smiles. “Thought you’d never ask,” he jokes.
Spock puts the card back and chooses another one. It has a small red heart and hands that seem to be holding it. He hands the card to Jim.
Who reads out loud, “Logically, you should be mine.”
Jim laughs. “That’s cute, I like that one.”
Spock nods and puts it with the card for Nyota. “Then I shall get this one for you.”
He walks away and Jim stares after him, eyes wide, and jaw dropped open.
Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto) 