“Geez, I’ve never been so cold in my life,” Jim complained. He’d been fiddling with the heater controls in the farmhouse for what seemed like hours but was likely no more than twenty minutes. “What kind of moron decides to arrive in the middle of the worst blizzard to hit Riverside in decades.”
“When the plans were made, no blizzard was anticipated,” the robot replied.
Okay, he supposed that was unfair. The robot was Spock and he wasn’t really a robot. Still, Jim was mildly annoyed with him so at present he didn’t give a damn.
He eyed the Vulcan who wore a big woolen sweater as he gazed blankly back at Jim. He had been of no help whatsoever since they arrived. Jim had gotten the fire going in the living room and now he was fiddling with the heater to try to get it to go on.
His family had never switched to a computer-controlled heat apparatus. They’d been convinced an old-fashioned heater was “charming”. Charming his ass.
“If I’m this cold you must be freezing,” Jim said as amiably as he could manage under the circumstances.
“As a Vulcan, I am able to—”
“Blah blah blah.” If Jim didn’t have his hands full of instruments, he’d be sticking his fingers in his ears. Immature? No doubt. “You know you didn’t have to come with me.”
Jim was sorry he’d come with himself. Or you know, whatever. Stupid blizzard.
They’d barely made it there and he wanted to turn right around and leave except the weather got even worse and they’d been stuck.
“You did not want me to?” Spock asked, neutrally.
He had wanted Spock to. They’d just started a…thing…er a whatever. Prior to this shore leave or break, they’d maybe had sex. Okay, not maybe, they had. Even though they hadn’t had the conversation as to what that meant at all. Jim didn’t really want to have that conversation. It made him sick even thinking about that conversation. And as far as he could tell the robot didn’t either.
But instead of answering that loaded question, Jim grimaced. “If I can’t get this heater started we’re going to be in a world of trouble. That fire isn’t going to do it to keep us warm enough.”
“I could look at it,” Spock offered.
And it was on the tip of his tongue to ask what a stupid Vulcan would know about an old-time heater, because he was that irritated with the world, but what the hell. He wasn’t having any luck.
He stepped aside and thrust the tools into Spock’s hands. “Knock yourself out. Well, actually, don’t. I don’t think I have any medical equipment for that.”
Spock didn’t bother to comment on that and Jim didn’t blame him.
With a sigh, he rubbed his neck and said, “I’ll be right back. I gotta pee.”
So he trudged up the basement stairs, shivering madly as he made his way up to the bathroom. He was really starting to hate this place and he was going to have more than a few words with his mom over it.
In the bathroom, having to lower his pants to pee, he thought his dick was going to break off it was so damn frozen.
He was eying the faucet and wondering how cold the water would be when he washed his hands when he suddenly heard the heater kick on.
A moment later a triumphant Spock came up from the basement, looking altogether pleased with himself.
“How did you—”
“Well, scientifically speaking, I—”
Jim covered Spock’s mouth with his to shut him up.
Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto) 