Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto)

Fan Fiction and Personal Ramblings



Flash Fic, January 03, 2023


Photo by Aleksandr Slobodianyk on

Spock had been meditating when Jim came home so when he had completed his usual afternoon hour of meditation, he sought his husband out.

After checking the house, Spock came to the conclusion that Jim was sitting outside on the small patio. He made Jim coffee and took the mug of the steaming liquid outside.

Sure enough, Jim sat on a lounge chair there looking rather hunched in on himself. Spock approached him and handed him the coffee.

Jim gave Spock a strained smile as Spock placed himself in the lounge chair beside him.

“Is something amiss?”

“No more than usual. I don’t really care for this planet or the assignment.”

They were currently residing on the planet, Armiron. It was not Spock’s favorite place either. It rained nearly every day and in fact that particular day was a rare day when it had not. It was a dreary, depressing place.

Jim had been promoted to a diplomatic admiral position within Starfleet and was being sent to various different planets. This was their third different one within the last few years. They also maintained homes in San Francisco, Riverside, and on Vulcan. They had not been awarded any length of time for any of those lately and it was wearing on both of them.

Spock had taken on the ambassadorship from his ailing father and had, on occasion, also been sent to a different place from Jim. Neither of them cared for this at all.

“It is only for six months,” Spock said, in an attempt to placate him.

“That’s what they said before when they sent me to Lorand and we were there for 18 months.” He sighed, frowned into his coffee, and then took a sip. “Perhaps it’s finally time to retire.”

Spock was understandably skeptical. Jim had talked of retirement before. After he’d been demoted to captain and then, finally, had the ship taken away from him for good. They’d promoted him again, once more to admiral. He was going to retire then, he’d told Spock, and yet, he couldn’t sit still even for a few minutes, and soon he was accepting this position which included so much diplomacy.

“I will support whatever decision you make, Jim.”

Jim sighed again. “I know. I’m tired of talking, Spock. I spend all day talking. Then I leave the conference and walk in the rain every day to come to this rundown place.”

It was hardly rundown. It was old though. One of the oldest homes on Armiron. They’d given him the home as a temporary residence believing it was an honor for them to stay in such an ancient revered home. But there were numerous challenges.

“I’m going to tell them. I’m giving it the six months and then I’m going back to Earth.” Jim drained his coffee. “First to our apartment in San Francisco. We’ll spend a month there. Then we’ll go to Riverside and spend maybe two there. And then to Vulcan to see your dad and a few months there.” Jim smiled then. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

“It does,” Spock agreed.

“Let’s plan on it.”

“Very well. When you are ready, I have soup warming for dinner.”

Jim handed his empty cup to Spock and then struggled to his feet. “I’m ready now. I think I just felt a raindrop. I never hated the rain before.”

Spock nodded and took Jim’s arm as they made their way inside. And even as he closed and locked the door to the patio behind them, the sky opened up and it poured again.

Flash Fic, December 20, 2022

I know this isn’t exactly Spock and Kirk but I couldn’t resist using it here.

“I’m going to have to speak to my father.”

Jim eyed his husband over his morning coffee. The truth was he was pretty sure Spock had been speaking for a while. It wasn’t that he was in the habit of ignoring his husband, but that morning he had something of a truly rotten hangover from the Hanukkah Party they’d attended the night before. Jim had quite enjoyed himself, eating and drinking everything in sight. But he was paying for both today. His head hurt like a bitch and he had some major indigestion.

When he’d complained about his stomach the night before he’d gotten a mini lecture about how he wasn’t as young as he once was and it was likely more and more foods would begin to upset his stomach.

He hated thinking about being old, but each time he looked in the mirror, his gray, thinning hair and poochy stomach left him no doubt what his future included.

“About?” Jim was proud of himself for getting that much out.

Truth was they’d just seen Sarek and Amanda, Spock’s parents, at that party they’d been to last night. It had been a very festive event with no extravagance spared by the Grayson family.

“He and my mother had a fight last night.”

Spock’s tone told him that he should know this. It was both disapproving and accusatory in that way Spock had of speaking that generally told Jim he had failed some major Vulcan test.

Jim wracked his brain trying to remember if he’d noticed tension at the party from Spock’s parents.

When he came up without a specific thing, he asked, “What did he do this time?”

He couldn’t imagine anyone really fighting with Amanda. Okay, sure, way back when on the Enterprise she did get a bit…difficult…and slap Spock but…Spock had logically convinced Jim to forgive her given the situation.

Normally she was a very kind woman and mother-in-law.

Fortunately, Spock was well aware of his father’s deficiencies with regard to sensitivity.

“He expressed his derision for the excessive festivity of the event.”

“It was a party,” Jim pointed out.

“As my mother also replied.” Spock finished his tea and got up to put his cup in the kitchen.

Jim shook his head. “Want me to come with you?”

“No. I think you would just…cause further aggravation.”

Jim leaned back in his chair. “I’ll try not to take offense at that.”

“None is meant. It is simply the situation. I suggest that you spend the day resting from you hangover and stomach upset. We are supposed to have my parents over for dinner tonight.”

“Think that’s still on?”

“That is the purpose of my visit to my father. I will return later to begin frying the latkes. Be warned Mother did indicate she might come early this afternoon to assist in preparing the Hanukkah food.”

Jim nodded. “Okay, I’ll take one of Bones’ hangover cures before then.”

Spock replied, “That would be wise.”

And then he was gone. Jim rose, got out a Hanukkah cookbook Bones had given them as a gift and began to peruse recipes.

Happy Hanukkah to those who celebrate.

Noodle Kugel

Photo by Ksenia Chernaya on

Flash Fic, December 05, 2022

“Come see Santa Claus. Bring your child to Santa. This way.”

Spock stopped in front of the building to stare openly at the…he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing.

“What are you supposed to be”

“A candy cane.”

Spock nodded, slowly. “I see.”

“It’s for charity. It was either this or…”

Spock arched a brow.  

“A reindeer costume.”

“Either is unbecoming of a starship captain.”

Jim looked disgruntled. “Do you want to put this on here and direct children to Santa?”

“A monetary donation would have saved you some dignity.”

“Listen mister if I wanted to be dignified—” Jim huffed. “You know what? Never mind. Go away. Or go talk to the reindeer, I don’t care.”

“Who is wearing the reindeer costume?”


Spock tilted his head. “You are assuredly the cutest candy cane I have seen.”

Jim snorted and rolled his eyes. “Don’t try to play nice and flirt with me now. Scram.”

“When will I see you back at the apartment?” Spock asked politely. “I was planning on serving latkes for dinner. And I found a vegan recipe for the sufganiyot.”

“Soon,” Jim assured his husband. “I only have an hour before my relief candy cane arrives.”

Spock bowed slightly. “I will await you.” He raised his fingers to touch his to Jim’s and then decided there was no real place to touch Jim because of the costume. And so with a shake of his head, he left Jim to his charity work.   

A wee bit early for Hanukah this year but here it is. And you can decide TOS or AOS, I see this as TOS, but your mileage may vary.

I sometimes like to include recipes here in December so here’s one for Spock’s Vegan Sufganiyot

Flash Fic, November 16, 2022

Jim had asked Spock before they’d invited Sarek and Amanda to the farmhouse for Thanksgiving if his mother would eat meat.

Jim wanted to make a roast turkey with all the fixings. He knew Spock wouldn’t eat it. Sarek too. And though Jim was okay with fixing a whole turkey for just himself because he’d eat leftovers, it would be more fun if Amanda would eat it too.

Spock had said he didn’t think so as he’d never seen her eat meat that he could remember. Because of course there were some things Spock still didn’t remember, probably never would, but that was okay. He was here with Jim and that was more than enough.

As it turned out, Amanda would eat turkey after all. Jim had contacted her directly.

“Oh yes I will. I haven’t had any in many years of course. Living on Vulcan with Sarek, well, obviously opportunities didn’t present themselves. But I’d love to join you for roast turkey. And I’d be happy to make my family’s apple pie.”

Jim had been pleased.

Jim had been a starship captain for years, even an admiral for a bit, and yet he was still somewhat intimidated by his in-laws. It was hard to intimidate Jim. But he always wanted to make a good impression on them and sometimes thought maybe he failed.

“I’m thinking of frying the turkey,” Jim announced the day before Thanksgiving. Spock’s parents would arrive later that day.

“I thought you wished to roast it.”

“I’m rethinking that. I want a delicious, moist turkey. I think frying might be better.”

“Are you certain you wish to fry a turkey?” Spock asked him.

“Yes, it’ll be easy,” Jim assured him.

“I do not wish you to harm yourself, Ashaya.”

“Spock, I’ve fought Klingons, Romulans and Gorns. I think I can handle frying a turkey.”

Spock did not respond to that, but later…

“What happened to your hand, Jim?” Amanda asked as she took in Jim’s bandaged hand when she went to embrace him in greeting.

“Just a little kitchen accident.” Jim smiled and returned her hug.

Amanda pulled back. “Spock said you were thinking of frying the turkey.”

“I’m back to roasting it.”

Amanda nodded. “Probably wise. Now if you’ll point me to the kitchen I’ll get started on that apple pie.”  

And as usual for your enjoyment Deep Fried Turkey

Flash Fic, March 21, 2022

Since both Primes birthdays are this week (22 and 26) I give you OMS

“Where shall we go for our vacation?”

It was the third time his husband, Jim, had asked him the question, and though in all truthfulness Spock had no particular preference, he supposed he was going to be required to pick a destination.

Still, Spock decided to try one more deflection.

“I do not care. You choose.”

Jim leaned back in his chair and eyed Spock over the rim of his coffee mug.

Jim had made the mug himself; it was one of the many hobbies he had attempted to pick up since he retired from Starfleet. He’s purchased all the equipment and supplied to make his own ceramics.

It had not gone particularly well, and Jim eventually grew bored with it. The kiln had sat unused in the basement of the farmhouse for months before Spock finally took the initiative to sell it.   

All the was left of Jim’s many attempts were the rather blah gray mug he used for his coffee and a bud vase that resembled an erect penis. Spock had hidden it away.


“I have no particular need to go there at present,” Spock replied. “My parents were here on Earth not long ago and we saw them then.“

“You’re not homesick? To see the planet, I mean?”

Spock shrugged. “No.”

“We could go camping again.”

Spock barely refrained from showing a wince. “If that is your wish.”

Jim sighed. “It’s not my wish, Spock. This is your vacation too.”

Spock pursed his lips but did not respond.


“It is just that we have been busy and running around for months, lately, years, if you think about it, and only recently have had the opportunity to return here to spend any period of time. I haven’t even been able to fully tend to my garden yet.”

Jim frowned. “Wait, are you saying you don’t want to go anywhere? You want to spend our vacation at home?”

“At one time it was called a ‘staycation’,” Spock explained. “I know that you wish to go somewhere exotic but—”

“No, no.” Jim put down his mug. “If you really want to stay here on the farmhouse, I’m good with it.”

“Are you certain?”

Jim smiled faintly. “Yeah. As long as you don’t mind me helping you with your garden. And putzing around the kitchen making bread.”


“I got a new bread machine. You can help me.”

Spock nodded. “If you are sure.”

“Sure, sure. I just thought maybe we deserved a relaxing spa vacation or something. But if you want to stay here for a while, just the two of us, how can I refuse?”

“Thank you. I will be rising at five tomorrow.”

“In the morning?”

Spock’s lips twitched. “Yes, but you can join me in the garden later when you get up.”

“Whew.  Glad to hear it. I’ve had enough getting up early to last me a lifetime.”

Spock picked up his tea and took a long sip.

“I should have made you a teacup. You know when I was doing my ceramics.”

Spock nodded. “It is all right. It would have been nice but—”

“I could take it up again and—”

“I sold your equipment.”

Jim deflated.

Spock sighed. “I suppose we could purchase new.”

“Orrrrrr…I have been thinking of taking up painting. A nude of you would be—”


Jim might be bored, occasionally, during their retirement, but with a husband like Jim, Spock was not.

Flash Fic, February 28, 2022

We’re closing February and love month with OMS

“You’re half Human, haven’t you got any goddamn feelings about that?”

The angry, irritated words spoken by Jim during the recent crisis stuck in Spock’s memory, like an old song playing over and over in your head.

Perhaps it should not bother him. He was a Vulcan after all.

He’d gone through the “trial” standing beside his comrades while they were judged, Jim being demoted back to Captain. Jim had been pleased, so Spock accepted this. Had it upset Jim, Spock would have argued against it.

Spock had spoken to his father before his father left to return to Vulcan and they had parted…well. A definite improvement from the past.

And still the way things had been left between himself and Jim nagged at him.

Jim had left his side to speak with the president of the Federation, but when he was finished, he once more found Spock.

He smiled faintly at him. “I’m starved, but I don’t really feel like going to a restaurant and being on display. The, uh, the apartment is nearby. Wanna go there?”

Spock inclined his head in agreement. He noted that Jim didn’t say “my apartment”, so Spock suspected it was a mutually shared residence from their time together. His memories were returning, albeit more slowly than any of them would have liked.

The air was chilled and they wore only their uniforms, having not prepared with overcoats. He was glad that Jim kept up a brisk pace.

Once inside, Jim ordered the heat on and Spock was grateful for the immediate warmth.

“Tea?” Jim asked.

“Indeed, but I will attend to it.”

Jim followed him into the small but efficient kitchen, and Spock noted the familiarity there. Yes, he’d been there like this with Jim many times.

But he also noticed Jim watching him, a contemplative look in his eyes.

“What is it?” Spock asked. He returned his attention to his task of preparing his tea.

“Is something wrong, Spock?”

“Wrong, Cap…Jim?”

Jim blew out a long breath and leaned on the counter next to where Spock stood.

“Just…I don’t know.”

Spock pursed his lips. “I have been thinking about what you said during the mission. Are you angry with me?”


Spock turned to him. “You seemed displeased with my reaction to certain events regarding the possible destruction of Earth.”

For a moment Jim’s frown was one of confusion, but then his expression cleared, and he shook his head.

“I’m not angry, Spock. I wasn’t then. Just…frustrated and irritated. Sometimes…I can’t help myself. It wasn’t any reflection on you.”

“Yet you used a colorful metaphor.”

“I did,” Jim admitted. “Ah, and I’m sorry about that. Like I said I was frustrated by the situation.”

“And my lack of reaction to it.”

“True. Sometimes, I forget, Spock, that you don’t react the same as me to what’s going on. I lashed out at that time because of that, but I’m not angry with you at all. I’m-“ He smiled faintly. “I’m grateful for you. And every moment I get to spend with you is special.”

Spock felt warmth blossom in his side, and he was, admittedly, in eminent danger of an illogical display of emotionalism. He looked at the tea before him to get control.

But then Jim touched his arm and that control eluded him.

“Spock,” Jim whispered.

Spock turned and allowed himself to be pulled into Jim’s embrace. Jim’s warm Human arms held him tight, and Spock felt love. Both loving Jim and having that love be returned.   

Flash Fic, January 21, 2022

A little OMS fluff

“What is this, Jim?”

Jim, who stood in the apartment kitchen, drinking from the cup of coffee he just poured for himself, glanced out to where Spock stood by the dining room table.

“Brochures for our vacation.”


“After the last month or so, I think we’ve earned a vacation, don’t you?” Jim stepped out of the kitchen and over to the table to look down at the brochures for all the exotic locales he’d chosen as potential destinations.

They’d only just returned from saving Earth and bringing whales to talk to the probe sent for them.

“Risa?” Spock’s brow arched up. “I think not.”

Jim smiled faintly. “Just one of many choices, Spock. We could even visit your folks on Vulcan if you’d like.”

Spock shook his head. “We only recently came from there. I find no immediate reason for returning.”

“Okay, then some warm, tropical place it is. Don’t worry, Spock, I plan to relax and take it easy.”

“Why would I worry?”

“Well, you once said that Humans and are desire to play on our vacations instead of rest was illogical. I’m paraphrasing of course.”

“Of course.” Spock picked up one. “This is said to have a large aquarium of exotic species.”

“Right. Is that where you  want to go?”

“I am not certain,” Spock admitted.

“Well, go through them and decide. We have time to make a decision. I’m thinking one of the tropical islands like Hawaii.”

Spock nodded. “Very well I will look at them after breakfast.” He paused. “Have I ever been to any of them?”

Spock was still having some memory issues. Jim wasn’t sure he would ever get everything back, but he remembered enough, including his affection for Jim, and that was more than enough.

“Nope, we haven’t. So any place we visit will be new to both of us.”

Spock nodded again as Jim joined him at the table for their breakfast of pancakes. He glanced at one. “Hawaii does look nice.”

Jim smiled, leaned over and kissed him. “Whatever we decide will be perfect.”

Photo by Thomas on

Merry Christmas, Darling

Advent Day 16

It was stupid, Jim guessed, to be spending the evening of Christmas Eve wishing Spock was there with him.

Spock didn’t celebrate anything, never had, and Spock’s Human family had been Jewish.

Hell, even Jim and his family hadn’t been religious in any way. Back when Jim was a boy living at the farmhouse with his dad and Sam, they’d done Christmases. Well and before that, before Jim’s mom had left because she wanted more from life than being George Kirk’s wife and Sam and Jim’s Mom. Mom had been there for a few too. The live tree, the boughs of greenery and holly berries. He’d loved it, though Sam acted like it was lame. Once Jim went to stay with his mother on Tarsus IV, well there were no Christmases there and when he returned there was Starfleet and starships and Jim let his old Christmas memories go.

But then he’d retired from Starfleet, hell, for the fourth time, Jim figured, he’d go back to it. Living part of the time in San Francisco, Spock preferred it there, and part time in Riverside, where Jim preferred it, he’d had a number of Christmases with trees and wreaths and big meals of way too much food and little token gifts Spock always deemed illogical. Jim told him dozens of times that was the point.

Last Christmas had been in San Francisco and Spock had been with him. This year, though, Spock was away on Vulcan dealing with some crisis involving Sarek, nothing Jim had to be involved in, Spock assured him, and he was alone at the farmhouse instead.

He’d debated even bothering with the usual Christmas trappings. But in the end he’d gotten a tree, strung lights and put up the decorations.

Now it was Christmas Eve and he was standing before the tree by himself. He’d put on a fire and there was a casserole baking in the oven.

“Merry Christmas, Darling.”

Jim smiled faintly. There was an old song that came to mind from hundreds of years before.

“I wish I were with you.”

He should have gone to Vulcan with Spock. They didn’t do something as illogical as Christmas, of course, but he’d be with Spock.

With a sigh, Jim turned from the tree to go into the kitchen to check on his casserole. He opened the oven and bent down to take out the casserole and then remembered he had no potholders.

“Dummy,” he mumbled as he reached for the potholders. “Trying to burn yourself.”

“That would be unfortunate.”

Jim dropped the potholders and stumbled back from the oven.

“Spock?” He rubbed his eyes.

“Your eyes do not deceive you,” his husband said from the edge of the kitchen. He wore a robe similar to the one he’d worn on Earth when they went back for the whales.

Jim rushed at him and embraced him, crushing Spock to him. “It’s a Christmas miracle.”

“Hardly,” Spock said dryly. “There was nothing miraculous about it. I came on a passenger ship and then a shuttle here.”

Jim laughed and kissed him. “It’s my miracle anyway. I wished for you. How is it you’re here?”

Spock raised a brow. “As you said, you wished for me.”

“Right. But really…”

“I know how much you love this time of year and especially here. So I made the effort. I will be returning to my duties on Vulcan in a few days.”

“Perhaps I’ll come with you.”

“Perhaps you will.”

Jim took his hand. “Come, darling. Merry Christmas.”

Deck the Halls

Advent Day 8


Jim put a nail in his mouth as he hammered the one he held into the rooftop. He did not look down. He was quite aware of the Vulcan standing at the foot of the ladder below. And though he was not looking, Jim absolutely knew he was getting the Vulcan version of the side-eye.


To the untrained ear, the repeat of his name sounded just like it had before, but Jim heard the slight irritation behind the second time his name was said.

He removed the nail held in his mouth and hammered it in, stringing the line of lights across the latest two nails.

“Be right down,” he called, not looking. He’d been up in space for decades, had faced death and injury numerous times, fought and won against more foes than he could count, and even survived the death and resurrection of that Vulcan, his husband, waiting below, but he hated heights. He’d considered asking Spock to do this part, but Spock had a secret. He hated heights more than Jim did.

Well, and to say either of them hated heights was not exactly true. Jim enjoyed mountain climbing, after all. And Spock had those rocket boot things he’d used to reach Jim on that mountain. But there was something different about the roof of one’s house and Jim couldn’t say what.

“Can you turn them on so I see if they’re all lit up?” he called down.

He heard the definite huff from Spock, but a moment later the lights were lit and Jim leaned back slightly on his haunches to detect if every last light was on. He couldn’t see any that were out so he mentally patted himself on the back and then inched his way to the ladder.

Perhaps some of his trepidation was due to the fact he’d actually fallen from said roof the prior year. Thankfully, just like Humpty Dumpty, they’d been able to put him back together. Not that he appreciated the comparison.

When he landed on the ground below, Jim felt relieved, and offered a smile to his grumpy husband.

“All done with the roof.”

“I thought we had agreed last year that if you continued this ridiculous, illogical competition with Bob Jenkins and Doctor Morely, you would hire someone to get on the roof.”

“You mean someone younger and in better shape than me,” Jim said, rolling his eyes. “I thought about that but the rules are we have to do all the decorating ourselves.”

“Who decided these rules?” Spock asked pointedly.

“The three of us as a committee. It’s just in good fun, Spock. It doesn’t really matter who’s won. There’s no reward.”

“Except the bragging rights to use all year round that you had the best decorated house for the holidays.”

Jim smiled, and rubbed his hands together, moving farther out in the yard to survey his handiwork.

“Right! And I’m absolutely fine with not winning.”

Spock gave him that side-eye Vulcan thing again and Jim ignored him.

Shooting out of a giant menorah on the roof, placed there for Spock, were twinkling yellow lights that looked like candle flames. He’d just purchased that this year. Also on the roof was a life sized Santa and sleigh with reindeer. Actual reindeer or Caribou, not just the Bambi type substituted so often.

He had more reindeer, elves, and snowmen in the yard surrounding the house too. Candy canes. Snowflakes. Gingerbread men.

“Do you think I did enough?” he asked Spock when Spock moved to stand beside him as they surveyed their kingdom.

“You are serious?”

Jim chuckled. “Yes, of course.” He took out an apple from his pocket and took a bite. “I don’t like to lose.”

“You just said—”

“We both know I lied.”

Spock sighed and nodded. “I believe you will succeed in maintaining your winning record.”

“Now that’s what I want to hear. All right, Spock, let’s go inside where it’s warm. I want to contact Jenkins and Morely to tell them they’re going to lose again.”

Spock sighed even more dramatically. “Very well.”

Jim took Spock’s hand in his and led him to the door of their home. “Well, perhaps, I’ll wait to warm you up a bit first.”

“That would be most agreeable.”

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