Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto)

Fan Fiction and Personal Ramblings



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.”

Light One Candle

Advent Day 7

Photo by Ksenia Chernaya on

Spock went looking for Jim in the early evening on the first night of Hanukkah. They were visiting Spock’s parents on Vulcan during the time Hanukkah started and though Sarek did not care at all, Spock’s mother had been raised Jewish and enjoyed participating in many of the traditional celebrations.

That morning she had cheerfully served them all sufganiyot. On the menu tonight was potato latkes.

Jim had given to sitting outside in the evenings, the view of the city being one he was particularly fond of. He would sit outside sipping coffee and mulling over the fate of the Universe. Or so he would jest with Spock.

“Jim, Mother is preparing to light the Shamash candle to begin the first night of Hanukkah,” Spock said as he found his husband sitting next to the wall that surrounded Sarek’s house.

Jim smiled. “Great. I meant to go in before. I got lost in thought. Help me up?”

Spock reached down and pulled Jim up from the chair. He had a feeling Jim was bored with their visit, but he never said so.

“Do I need to change?”

“Certainly not.”

They returned to the house where Mother waited. There was no sign of Sarek, which Jim commented on.

“Sarek doesn’t come for the lighting?”

Mother smiled and shrugged. “Sometimes yes, sometimes no. At present he is in conference and we cannot wait.”

They gathered near the Menorah. Mother lit the candle in the middle, the Shamash candle.

“Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah.” Mother spoke the first blessing.

“Amen,” Jim and Spock murmured.

“Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam, she’asah nisim l’avoteinu, b’yamim haheim bazman hazeh.”

Spock’s mother smiled at them.

“And now, since it is the first night, we say the Shehecheyanu.”

“Blessed are You, O Lord Our God, Ruler of the Universe, Who has kept us alive, sustained us and brought us to this season”, Mother said in standard this time.

“Amen,” they replied.

She used the Shamash candle to light the first candle on the left. She then picked up the Menorah and brought it to sit in a window to the left of the main door.

“There! Thank you, boys, for indulging me.”

“We are hardly boys, Mother.”

She laughed. “To me you are. Let’s have some wine. Well, you and me, Jim. Spock can have some if he wants.”

Spock inclined his head. “A small amount would be fine.”

She poured them all small glasses of red wine and they sat in the room overlooking the Menorah.

“Many Vulcans over the year have asked Sarek why he allows me to continue with these traditions,” she said, taking a sip.

Jim raised his brows. “And? What does he say?”

She smirked. “I do not allow her anything. She is free to make her own choices.”

Jim saluted with his wine glass. “Wise.”

“It reminds me of home, of my family. For years, when they were alive, we could participate in it together, over conferences, videos, that kind of thing. Once when I was quite young and Spock had been recently born, we were even on Earth at the time, and we spent that time with them in person.”

“I did not know that,” Spock replied. “I do not remember.”

“It was a lovely time. And you were a Kanbu.”

Spock sniffed.

“Now,” she said wistfully. “Most are gone and I do it to remember them. I’ll be following them soon enough.”


“No one lives forever, Spock. Not even me. I am not saying I will pass tomorrow, but each Hanukkah might be my last.” She shook her head. “I don’t pretend to think you’ll carry on the traditions when I do, but it’s nice to be able to share it with you now, while we are both here.”

Jim reached over and squeezed Spock’s hand. He knew Jim was thinking of already having lost Spock once. And Spock did not look forward to the day he would face without Jim. Without them all, likely.

But for now—

“How about a toast?” Jim said, speaking up cheerfully. “To being together, to family, friends, to traditions. Happy Hanukkah.”

Mother smiled. “Happy Hanukkah.”

And they all took their sips. The potato latkes were particularly good that night.

Star Trek Day Flash

I didn’t think about writing anything for “Star Trek Day” September 8th until the night before so forgive me for this extremely rough short flash.

Spock hears the approach of Doctor McCoy, but he does not turn around. He suspects the doctor had been sent ahead to tell him the news about Spock’s husband. There is still so little they know to presume that he would not know. The instant he had been torn from the Enterprise Spock knew.


McCoy’s voice is rough, hoarse, torn asunder with grief. Spock manages not to wince.

Spock’s silence encourages the doctor to continue though that was not Spock’s intention.


Spock closes his eyes from the sight of the city lights outside their…his…apartment window. He straightens though he does not turn around.

“I know, Leonard.”

“Spock, Jim…”

“I know,” Spock says again.

“How? Who told you?” There are tears in McCoy’s voice. It sounds thick and unsteady.

“No one.”


He wants to sigh, but knows it is inappropriate under the circumstances. “The bond severed upon his–demise.”

Silence greets his words and though Spock still does not turn around it seems like an uneasy, stunned silence. Perhaps he imagines it. He is aware that McCoy does not fully understand the connection he has–had–with Jim.

“I’m sorry.”

So is Spock but he cannot make the words form let alone have them fall from his lips. He manages not to show that he is shaking. Or at least he believes he does.

“What do you need?”

“To be alone.”

McCoy is quiet though Spock knows he has not left. Then there is a hand placed on his shoulder and Spock cannot stop the flinch. Doesn’t try.

“I’ll leave you be then.” A long pause. “For now.”

He hears the apartment door open and close and then the fading of McCoy’s footsteps as he walks away to leave Spock alone.

Spock clenches his fists and curses Jim for dying.

I am soooooo sorry for this.

Flash Fic, August 28, 2020


Spock found Jim sitting on the porch of his Riverside farmhouse at nearly eight-thirty at night. The sun was setting, as it was August, and nearly the end of their leave. Time to return to San Francisco and HQ soon enough. He was aware that Jim did not really look forward to it as he once did. They were older now and Jim spoke of retirement more than he used to.

Jim gave him a weary smile.

“Finish the dishes? Sorry, I meant to go in.”

Spock lowered himself into a chair beside his husband.

“It is fine. I did not mind doing it.”

Jim nodded, staring out into the yard. “Would you mind so much if we came here to live after we retire?”

Spock was aware that for Jim, Riverside was home. Outside of the Enterprise, which was no longer theirs to call it that way. For Spock, wherever Jim was, was home. It had taken him a long time to discover this, to admit to it, too long. But now he knew, now he accepted.

“I would offer no objections.”

Jim smiled. “Good. I like the idea of us living here, arguing over whose going to do the dishes that night…”

“I would not argue. I would do them willingly.”

“I know. But you get what I mean.” Jim continued to smile faintly, then he looked from the yard to Spock. “Or we could retire to Vulcan, if you’d rather.”

Spock did not say it, but he knew, there would be plenty of time, likely, for him to live on Vulcan once Jim passed away. Unless some odd tragedy occurred, Spock would outlive Jim by a good many years. It was not outside the realm of possibility, of course. After all, Spock had died once already.  

“No, living here will be acceptable,” Spock replied. He put his hand out toward Jim who met Spock’s hand with his own, their fingers touching as they did, as once, long ago, when Spock’s mother still lived, she did with Sarek.

“I love summer,” Jim spoke after a few minutes. “Summer nights especially. Out here, anyway. You can see stars for miles and miles around. This…this I grew up with.”

“And made you wish to live among those very stars.”

Jim nodded. “Yep. Never imagined then that I’d meet someone like you, and you’d change every aspect of my life.”

Spock thought about all those years in the past when last he’d seen Michael and her words to him.  

 “As you have changed mine.”

Flash Fic, July 27, 2020

This one is a revisit of the TOS OMS in Every Hour Has Come to This

Jim slept in these days. More than he used to.

He remembered a time when he was up before the sun, and then with the sun, and often before his husband, Spock. But those days had faded away now. And often he woke long after the sun and his husband rose.

This time he got out of bed mostly because he was hot and sweaty. This promised to be a scorcher of a day. Not that surprising in July.

But it made for uncomfortable sleeping.

He went into the bathroom, peed, and then turned on the shower. He made it warm, because he didn’t particularly care for cool showers, even in summer.

Jim smiled to himself as he soaped up. Just yesterday they’d been in the main town doing their usual shopping and Spock had made rather derisive remarks about the store’s advertisement.

“Christmas in July.”

“It’s a gimmick, Spock.”


They’d passed by the display of fake snow, gnomes, and garlands. Later, Jim considered going back for one of the gnomes he’d thought was kind of cute, but he never got back over to the display.

He did pick up some gingerbread cookies, though. Since he’d gotten older, he’d developed a terrible sweet tooth.

After his shower, Jim put on some loose fitting pants, that sweet tooth did not help his waistline, and a T-shirt. No flannel in July, thank you very much.

He made his way down the stairs, using the bannister more than he used to, of course.

Spock was putzing around the kitchen. In a few days, Spock would be leaving for three weeks to attend to the duties that surrounded his ambassadorship. Jim didn’t look forward to it. He could handle the time alone, but yeah, he’d miss Spock. A lot.

As he approached the kitchen he spotted something on the dining room table.

His mouth broke out into a huge grin.


It was the ridiculously cute gnome he’d considered at the store, sitting on the table next to Jim’s coffee cup.

Spock turned and arched a brow. “A poor substitute for my company for three weeks, but…”

Jim came to him and gave him a big kiss. “Still. I love you. Thank you.”

“You are welcome Jim.”

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