Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto)

Fan Fiction and Personal Ramblings



Flash Fic, March 21, 2023

Still using the manip J did for me!

I had this done and am still not ready with WTE chapter so I figured, why not?

This is the OMS from my own story The Closer I Get to You. I thought it would be fun to revisit them here as Jim cares for an under the weather Spock.

Jim was feeling his age, all his aches and pains, and he wasn’t too happy about it. No one lived forever he knew and guessed he had fewer years ahead than those he left behind.

But at the moment, he couldn’t focus on the pain in his creaking knee. Spock, normally in much better shape than him, had a terrible cold.

They’d both been surprised he’d managed to get one. But had one Spock had.

So Jim was currently stirring Plomeek soup in a big pan on the stove of their Yellowstone cabin. Spock was grumpy. It was winter and he hadn’t wanted to come to the cabin in the winter and Jim had insisted.    

Now with his cold, he was grumpier still while maintaining he was not at all in a bad mood.

Jim guessed Spock might be in a worse mood had he known that Jim received a very strong email from the Fleet asking him to do a publicity run for the newest crew of the Enterprise. The Enterprise-B.

“You’ll be retired. It won’t be you in command anymore. But they’re going to ask you to be there, to make it some sort of stunt, to look good for Starfleet, to hand it off to the younger guys, and…don’t.”

“Don’t what?”


And yes, Jim remembered every word his counterpart from…well Jim didn’t know where he was from exactly, but those words still rang in his head.

The soup heated, Jim ladled out a generous portion with some home-baked Kreyla (not by him of course) and brought it on a tray to Spock who rested in bed in their room.

The Vulcan’s hair was adorably rumpled even as he almost glared at Jim.

“I brought you soup and bread.”

“It’s cold.”

Jim smiled and set the tray on the bed in front of Spock. “I turned up the heat, you should feel it soon.”

Spock picked up the spoon and placed it in his soup. He took a tentative sip. “It’s not terrible.”

Jim chuckled. “I made it from your own recipe. I did have to synthesize the Plomeeks, though. They don’t grow in Yellowstone.”

“Too cold to grow anything,” Spock groused.

That wasn’t quite true, but Jim understood the sentiment.

If it was up to him, now that they were retired they’d live at the cabin full-time. Spock emphatically disagreed.

Jim sat in a chair by the bed and once more looked at the message from Starfleet.

“You should say no. For him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t, and I’d say more but I’m sure my Spock wants to kick my ass as it is. Just…please. Don’t. It’ll mean so much to me, to him. Don’t.”

“What is that you are doing, Jim?” Spock asked with a sniff.

Jim smiled. “Nothing really. Just about to reply to an email.”


“An admiral of Starfleet.”

“You are retired,” Spock unnecessarily reminded him.

I respectfully decline. At the moment, I am taking care of my husband and bondmate. Ask Commander Scott.  

Jim hit send. Looked back up at Spock.

“You have a birthday coming up. What shall we do for it?”

“It is—”

“Illogical, yes I know. But let’s do something anyway.”

Spock arched a brow. “Such as?”

He laughed. “I don’t know. But I’ll think of something.” He rose from the chair and leaned in to kiss Spock’s forehead. His husband harrumphed, but Jim saw the warm mirth in his dark eyes before he could hide it.   

Flash Fic, November 24, 2021

Jim closed the oven door with satisfaction and then almost wiped his hands on his Kiss the Cook turkey apron. Aborting that action, he went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. He was aware Bones was leaning a hip against a nearby counter, smirking, as he sipped his black coffee.

“I’m jealous, you know.”

“About time you admitted I have a cuter ass than you,” Jim said. “After all these years.”

“Hardy har har. I concede you probably do, but that’s not what I’m jealous of.”

Jim dried off his hands. “No?”

“Nope. I’m jealous of your mad skills at cooking the Thanksgiving turkey. Don’t know anyone who’s better at it.”

Jim chuckled. “Well, thanks, Bones. That means a lot coming from you.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know, that’s why it means a lot.” He patted his stomach. “I know how to eat. Dinner will still be a few hours, so you can go relax in the living room. Get yourself a drink. There’s wine for sure and probably whiskey.”

“Okay.” Bones smiled faintly. “Jim, about Spock—”

Jim’s smile slipped and he waved his hand. “Forget about that. It’s nothing.”

“You sure?”

“Sure I’m sure. I’ll be in with my own glass of wine in a second.”

Bones left Jim to the kitchen and Jim sighed, glancing out the window. It was then that he saw the flakes of snow coming down. It made him smile and shake his head.

Yeah, he had a lot to be grateful for, and so he was feeling good about the upcoming meal.

“It’s snowing,” he called.

“What?” Bones exclaimed. “Damn.”

He heard Bones go to the front door and open it.

“Hey Jim?”


“There’s a frozen Vulcan out here.”


Jim hurried from the kitchen and to the front door. Sure enough, Spock stood there, one of his knitted beanie hats on his head. It and the rest of the Vulcan was covered in snow.

Spock opened his mouth to speak but Jim flung himself into the Vulcan’s arms and thoroughly kissed him.

Bones cleared his throat. Jim pulled back and grinned at Spock. “Welcome home.”

Happy Thanksgiving my fellow Americans

Flash Fic, June 30, 2021

A little OMS to finish off the month, and a much happier ending for them.

It was getting late and Spock realized that Jim had still not come inside the farmhouse from “tinkering” in the garden all day.

Spock had dinner simmering on the stove, so he turned it down, and went outside to locate his mate.

Jim looked up from his spot on the ground of his garden when Spock approached. He smiled faintly. “Hi, sweetheart. Time to come in?”

“It is. You have been out here for several hours. You likely got a sunburn.”

Jim laughed. “I hear your disapproval there. Okay. Help me up.”

Spock reached down and tugged Jim to his feet. He noted the sweat on his mate’s brow.

“Come, I have your dinner ready as well.”

“You take good care of me.”

Spock nodded. “Someone has to.”

His mate laughed again and followed Spock into the house. “I’m a bit sore, I admit. And I do feel like I got too much sun.”

“Go and shower and I will have your dinner ready then for you when you come back down.”

“I’m starved.” Jim kissed him chastely. He patted his plump stomach. “Well, not really. I’m getting pretty chubby.”

“You look good to me.”

“That’s why I love you.” Jim chuckled. “Well not only.”

Spock smiled slightly as he watched Jim go up the stairs. He turned to the stove to see to the dinner when he noticed Jim had a message on his PADD asking him to attend the christening of the newest Enterprise. Spock frowned. He did not like this idea. He picked up Jim’s PADD and noticed Jim had responded.

“No, thank you. I think I’m going to skip it. I’m satisfied with my retirement with my husband, Spock. But I wish the new captain and his crew a good journey.”

Spock nodded, satisfied. And strangely, relieved.

Flash Fic, November 22, 2020

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

Photo by Ekaterina Bolovtsova on


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.


“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.”

Try to Remember

More OMS

Though there was much Spock did not recall about his previous life still, he was beginning to remember larger pieces, thanks in part to melds with Jim as well as ‘reminder’ stories from Jim and others, including Spock’s parents.

And though Jim seemed more reluctant to travel these days, he still accompanied Spock on a trip back to his home planet of Vulcan.

Spock had relayed that Jim did not have to accompany him if he preferred not to, but Jim had balked at that, getting that look on his face that was a cross between disappointment, resignation, irritation, and indulgence. Spock didn’t know anyone else who wore that expression, but it seemed to be a favorite of Jim’s.

“No,” Jim had said. “I’m coming.”

Spock was glad, though, because he’d had no particular fondness for making the trip by himself. It was reported that his mother was not well and might not live much longer. Having Jim by his side was desirable under those circumstances, but he would rather Jim was comfortable than not, which was why he did say that Jim could avoid it if desired.

Jim was quiet on the shuttle ride there, and though Spock was not entirely certain, given his patchy memory, he suspected that was not usual for him.

“You are pensive,” he finally said.

Jim glanced at him, a small toothless smile appearing. “Am I? I don’t mean to be.”

Spock hesitated. “If your preference was to stay in San Francisco, I would have made no objection.”

Jim shook his head. “Not at all. I’m just…my parents have already passed on, and now, maybe your mother.”


Jim shrugged. “Makes me think more about…mortality, I suppose.”

“You fear death?”

The smile grew crooked. “It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.”

“Marcus Aurelius.”

“Yes,” Jim said, seeming surprised Spock could remember that.

Spock supposed it was surprising. “I do not think you need to worry about a life not well-lived, Jim.”

“Perhaps not. Anyway, I know that I will die alone.”

“And how do you know this?”

“A feeling.”

Spock wondered where he himself would be that Jim would die alone, but decided not to dwell on this rather morbid declaration at this time. There we other considerations.

“Likewise, I do not think that my mother has any regrets for the life she has led.”

“No,” Jim agreed. “I imagine not. Still, when she does pass, I’m not sure how your dad will handle it.”

“I suppose he will handle it like a Vulcan.”

Jim snorted at that, though Spock did not know why. “How about you, Spock? Will you be all right?”

“One expects one’s parent to die before them.”

Jim sighed. He got that look again. “Yeah I know.”

There was no one else around them on the shuttle and Spock found himself reaching over to take Jim’s hand. Jim glanced at him in surprise, but he willingly took Spock’s hand in his.

“If you are by my side, T’hy’la, I can handle anything.”

Jim swallowed, nodded, and squeezed Spock’s hands. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that. Thank you, Spock. And I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. Not without you.”

“Good. Then we are agreed. And whatever we face on Vulcan, it will be together.”


Jim leaned against him then and fell asleep and though there was much that was still lost to Spock, this-this was not. And he was filled with gratitude.  

Try to Remember

And we continue with the TOS OMS…

Kirk had had no idea the question of Spock remembering their first night together would ever come back to haunt him. But it did. Almost every day since Spock had been revived.

He’d given up almost everything there was to bring Spock back…to him. Kirk couldn’t really lie that it hadn’t been for him. No matter promises or words made to Sarek or anyone else. Kirk had selfishly sacrificed it all to have Spock alive again.

And as hard as it had all been, as much as it had hurt to know his own son had perished, surely because of him, he’d still felt joy when Spock had turned to him and said, “Jim. Your name is Jim.”

Telling Carol had been torment. She’d looked at him, over the view screen, and she had said in a quiet voice, “And this is why I didn’t want you in his life.”

And then she had closed out of the call, out of Kirk’s life, forever, he imagined.

Kirk couldn’t blame her. He’d made himself sort of sick over the entire matter. But Spock was living and walking and breathing again. And Kirk didn’t know when Spock had become so much of literally everything to him, but he had, and it was the way it was.

The first time, after all that, when they were still on Vulcan, when they hadn’t gone back to save the Earth and the whales, before they’d faced the hearing, and Jim had been gloriously demoted back to Captain. Before that.

He’d been alone with Spock. Spock who looked at him as though he were not a stranger, but not that familiar either, and Kirk, seated across from him, had asked.

“Spock, do you remember our first night together? After T’Pring and the Koon-ut-kal-if-fee?”

Spock had stared at Kirk, blankly. His expression more blank than it had ever been. And had said, “No.”

That simple word had pierced Kirk’s heart, even if it hadn’t been entirely unexpected.

And so Kirk had nodded, smiled a little, reached over and patted his husband’s knee, said, “That’s okay, Spock.” Stood and walked out of Sarek’s house to do his own form of meditation. A big glass of whiskey.

Spock remembered little of their life, not only from during their missions, but from their bonding and marriage, after the V’Ger incident. He’d been told that Kirk and he were married and bonded, but Spock felt nothing about it.

Kirk had been joined by Bones in the drink.

“After all this, with him not remembering your life, your love, any of that, was all this, was it worth it, Jim?”

Kirk had looked up to the hill where he could see Spock, dressed in his Vulcan robe, walking, going toward the temples.

“Yes,” Kirk had whispered, tears stinging his eyes. “Yes, Bones. It was worth it.”

And now they were back in San Francisco. On temporary leave. They’d be out again, on the Enterprise, someday, Kirk hoped and had been told, though it was hard to trust anything Starfleet said, but the ship was not completed, and Kirk was back to his apartment here. That he’d kept for years and probably would always keep, even when he was retired.

Spock was there with him. It had become their apartment after they married and bonded. Before Khan had come back to destroy it all, them.

The November sky had darkened even though it was barely five-thirty and around the edges was the color of burnt-orange that sort of reminded Kirk of Vulcan. He’d been afraid, ever since they returned, that Spock would come to him and announce his intent to leave, to go back to Vulcan.

Sure, Spock had spoken to his father just before they departed the hearing to decide their fate, and had not given any indication he intended to leave, but it was what Kirk feared nevertheless.

Eventually, surely, Spock would tire of him and not remembering their life.

And yet, gratefully, it had not happened.

He’d made the decision to give Spock space. Both emotionally and figuratively as well as real personal space. He’d turned the office/meditation space they had created together into a bedroom for Spock. Naturally, Kirk hoped it would be temporary, but if not, he would accept Spock in whatever way he was required to do so. Spock was it for him and he only wished he had realized that long before. He hadn’t and was filled with regrets.


He turned from his spot standing by the railing on the balcony of the apartment to see his husband standing just inside the apartment, peering out at him from the open door. He could tell that Spock was reluctant to step outside, but he also wanted to ask Kirk to come in.

It was breezy and cool and Kirk wasn’t even sure when that had happened as he hadn’t noticed it before.

“Yes, Spock?”

“Will you come inside now?”

And there was a part of him that wanted to say no, that he didn’t want to go back inside to the awkwardness of being husbands and mates but not quite. To a life where he never pressed Spock on what he remembered for fear the answer would also be that he didn’t remember something that had been important to Kirk, to them.

“Sure,” he said instead, sparing one last glance for the breezy night sky. Then he turned and went inside, bemused when Spock stayed there to close the door behind him.

“I have made some soup,” Spock announced then.

He smiled faintly. “Yeah? Plomeek?”

“Negative. Butternut squash. I recalled you had a preference for it.”

Kirk blinked, feeling sudden constriction in his chest. “That’s right. Yes. I…yes. Thank you.”

“If you will sit at the table, I will bring it to you.”

He took his seat at the table which Spock had already set up with a napkin, spoon, knife, butter and bread. The whiskey bottle along with a glass had also been set beside it. But Kirk shook his head.

“I’ll just have water,” he announced.

Spock made no comment. He just took away the whiskey and brought a pitcher of water over, filling both their glasses.

Next came the soup, which arrived steaming hot in ceramic bowls just as Kirk slathered butter on a big thick slice of French bread.

When everything was settled and Spock had taken the seat across from him, Kirk found himself smiling at the simple meal. Maybe Spock couldn’t or hadn’t remembered everything, but there were little bits like this where he did remember and those moments were ones Kirk treasured.

He took a spoonful of the thick soup. “Delicious. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.” Spock paused. “Jim.”

“Yeah, Spock?”

“I have a request.”

Kirk nodded. “Okay.” He thought for a second, then chuckled. “Is that why you made the soup? To butter me up?”

Spock arched a brow. “Butter you up?”

“Never mind. What’s your request?”

And he tried not to feel anxious about it. Whatever Spock asked, he certainly would not deny him.

“If you do not object, I would like to move my things back to your bedroom. To share the bed with you.”

Object? Not in a million years.

Kirk reached for Spock’s hand, the one not clutching the spoon, and curved his fingers around the palm of Spock’s hand. “I do not object even a little. I would like nothing better than to have you with me. Every single moment of every single day. Forever and always.”

Spock stared at him, rather blankly, and for a moment Kirk thought he had overstated things. He was known to do that from time to time.

Spock said so softly that he had to strain to hear. “Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched.”

Kirk broke into a smile and maybe there was a little moisture in his eyes too. “Yeah. Yes, Spock.”

“After dinner, then, I will move my stuff,” Spock said simply then.

Kirk found himself suddenly eager to finish the soup and bread. And yes, there was still a long way to go, he knew that. But this…his heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. There was hope.

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