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Star Trek: TOS

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.”

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.

“Jim.”

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 Pexels.com

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.”

“Mother—”

“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.

Flash Fic, August 16, 2021

This takes place directly after the events of The Wrath of Khan and before The Search for Spock

Leonard knew it was time to go check on Jim. He’d tried to give him some time. Spock’s funeral service had been pretty rough on him and even though he’d acted as though he might be all right on the bridge after, Leonard was not fooled.

“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done, it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.”

Those words notwithstanding, Leonard knew his friend and he was hurting.

“Come.”

When Leonard stepped into Jim’s quarters, his friend stood near to the observation window he had in his quarters. He was looking out, though Leonard wasn’t sure exactly what Jim saw.

“It’s just me,” he said, softly.

He saw the slight curve of Jim’s lips. “Hi, Bones.”

Leonard looked toward the small bar in the quarters where he spotted the decanter of brandy Jim kept there. He walked over to it and poured two glasses, approaching and handing one to Jim.

“You okay?”

Jim looked into the glass. “What do you think?” He downed it in one swallow.

About what Leonard guessed.

“Jim, don’t take this question the wrong way, but, just what was between you and Spock?”

Jim flicked a glance at him. “He’s my friend.” Paused. “Was.”

“I know that. But…was there more?”

“More?”

Leonard took a sip of his own brandy. “You two were closer than most friends, closer than most brothers.”

“Sam and I hadn’t been close for years before his death,” Jim said, musingly. He shook his head. “And I haven’t kept in touch with my nephew. I really am an asshole sometimes.”

“But you and Spock—”

“What are you trying to say here, Bones?”

“Were you in love with Spock?”

“In love.” Jim shook his head. “What does that mean? I loved him. I don’t know how to go on without him, Bones. He’s been the better part of my life for years and…now he’s gone. I’d do anything to have him back. Give up anything. But I can’t raise the dead. Spock’s gone.”

“So, did you have romantic feelings for him?” Leonard persisted.

“Maybe. I honestly never sat down and analyzed things. I know that when we parted after the mission and he went for Kolinahr, I thought my heart would break.”

“Well, then.”

“That’s nothing compared to now. I’d give anything for him to be back on Vulcan, having gone through Kolinahr and never looked back.”

“I’m sorry, Jim. And I’m sorry I brought all this up. I guess…I just needed to know.” Leonard put the empty glass down. “I’ve been feeling a bit out of sorts myself lately.”

And it was true. Sometimes Leonard felt as though there were someone else’s thoughts in his head. Strange.

Jim smiled faintly. “It’s okay, Bones. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone.”

“All right. Let me know if you need anything.”

Leonard left and returned to his own quarters, still feeling as though he was missing some piece of information.

Christmas in July, Post 5

Uhura frowned in the direction of the sliding door that led out to the balcony of the San Francisco apartment Jim shared with Spock. Still. At least there was that.

“I’m sorry, Captain. We didn’t mean to make things worse with our little silly celebration. We just thought—”

“No, you didn’t,” Jim quickly assured them.

They were all there. Uhura, Scotty, Sulu, Chekov, and Bones. His crew. His family many more ways than his real family had been.

Around them they’d pinned Christmas garland and ornaments and signs declaring rather merrily that it was Christmas in July. Spock’s mother was Jewish, of course, though non-practicing.  He grew up knowing very little about any Terran holiday, though when he’d had his memory, he’d known much of the crew participated in the merriment. Jim had tried to most of the time himself because those sorts of things were good for moral. He understood the sentiment and why the crew needed these distractions.

Jim appreciated it now, their thought process anyway, and why they’d arrived with decorations and food to cheer up Jim and Spock.

Only just a moment ago, Spock had excused himself to the balcony and he had not come back inside.

“Your thoughtfulness is really so kind,” Jim told them. “But, my friends, it might be best if you leave Spock to me tonight.”

“If you think that’s best,” Uhura said. “Do you want us to take everything away with us?”

Jim shook his head. “No. Leave it here, if you will.”

He walked with them to the door. He did feel bad, but at the moment, Spock was still his priority.

Bones lingered at the door when the others had departed.

“I thought he was better after the whales and all that,” Bones said.

“And he is. That doesn’t mean he’s completely himself or has remembered everything. Sometimes our humanness overwhelms him, Bones. Probably more so than even before.”

“Hmm. Okay. You, um, ever going to discuss his…thing with Saavik?”

Bones was referring to Saavik helping Spock on the Genesis planet, including through a period of Pon Farr. Jim knew what all that meant. He didn’t want to analyze it too closely though.

“I don’t know. It’s not like it was something he could have helped or chose to do, Bones. I’ll contact you tomorrow. Thanks for everything.”

After he closed the door on Bones, he turned back toward the apartment and the merriment they’d left. With a shake of head, he did cut the carols playing, then he opened the door and stepped onto the balcony.

Being July, it was warm and still fairly light outside.

“I am sorry, Jim. I did not wish to ruin their party.”

Spock’s back was to him as he leaned over the railing to survey the view.

“Don’t be sorry. And the party was for you as much as for them. They understood.”

“Then they are gone?”

“Yes. Just us now. They left the goodies though if you’re hungry.”

Spock did not reply to that.

Jim moved to stand beside him. He wasn’t overly fond of heights, but he wasn’t prettified either.

“Sometimes,” Jim began, “I can’t remember why I ever fell in love with you.”

Spock turned to face him, expression inscrutable.

Jim smiled faintly.

“But that’s a good thing, Spock.”

“Is it?”

“It’s because I can’t really remember a time when I wasn’t in love with you,” Jim explained.

“I realize,” Spock said softly. “But I…”

“Can. I know. You became yourself but with a lot of those memories gone. I know. And they haven’t all rushed back. Maybe they’ll never come back, Spock. That’s okay.”

“Is it?” Spock asked again.

“I’d rather have you alive not remembering a thing about me or our life than not have you alive at all. Whatever it took to bring you back, for me, it was worth it.”

“The loss of your son—”

“That had nothing to do with your being here again. That was the Klingons. They alone are responsible for what happened to David. Them and because of Khan’s actions. Perhaps some of my own. But not yours or bringing you back, Spock.”

Spock hesitated. “I do remember some things.”

“I know. And that’s good. But I never want to push you. And our friends didn’t intend that either. They had only good intentions bringing that stuff.”

“Yes. It was just…it seemed like it was merriment I should have recalled, and I did not.”

“To be fair, I’m not sure we ever did Christmas in July on the ship, Spock. Want to come back inside? There are cookies. I’ve been assured they are vegan. At least some of them.”

Spock took the hand Jim held out for him. “I do…care a great deal for you, Jim.”

Jim smiled. “I know you do, Spock. That’s good enough for me.”

He led Spock back inside the apartment and watched as his husband’s gaze strayed over the decorations and then to the table where the sweet treats had been placed.

“I apologize for making them leave.”

“You didn’t, I did. And it’s fine.”

“I have done my research on Christmas, but what is its purpose in July?”

“Just a bit of happy tomfoolery.”

“I see.” Spock nodded. He approached the plate of cookies. “This one has pointed ears. Is it supposed to be a Vulcan?”

Jim looked and chuckled. “Nope. That’s an elf, Spock.”

Spock picked it up, arched his brow, and then bit the head off. “It is unexpectedly delicious.”

Jim rubbed Spock’s arm. “I’m glad. Let’s go sit together on the couch and eat cookies. Drink eggnog. Well, you can have tea and I’ll have the nog.”

“Very well.”

Spock prevented Jim from moving away, but only long enough to touch their fingers together. Jim smiled and gave Spock a Human kiss too.

It would be all right. Jim knew.  

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, June 02, 2021

Jim stood before the grave of his mother, buried next to his father in the Kirk family cemetery just slightly northeast of the Riverside farm. His grandparents were buried there too. Even Sam. His parents had arranged to have Sam’s remains from Deneva returned to Earth. Jim hadn’t been there for that. Or for his father. But he was here now, after the service.

Beside him stood Spock. Bones had offered to come too, but, when Jim decided to go to the graveside after it was all over, Jim had assured Bones he was all right to go by himself. Spock had followed him anyway.

“I guess if you believe in that sort of thing, they’re reunited somewhere.”

“Is that what they would have wanted?” Spock asked.

Jim shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. They didn’t always have the best marriage. They were separated for years when I was a kid.”

“Oh?” Spock seemed surprised by this.

“Dad was a simple guy. He was content to spend his days working the farm, but Mom wasn’t. That wasn’t the life she saw herself living. So one year, behind his back I guess, she applied for a scientist’s job on another planet.” He smiled grimly. “Tarsus IV. I don’t know if she thought he’d go with her or didn’t care, but of course Dad didn’t. She came back once for my birthday. After that, she stayed away. Me and Sam stayed with Dad until one year he sent me to stay with her. That’s how I met the Leightons.”

Spock just listened to Jim, as he mostly did, without comment. That was fine.

“They were doctors. I never understood why Kodos executed them. Or how he picked any of those that he did. Mom and I were spared. Thomas too. Anyway, eventually, we moved back to Earth and the farmhouse, and I guess things improved with Dad. But I’m not sure they were ever…completely happy.”

His first officer moved closer to him. Jim wondered if Spock even knew he had. He’d thought that he could handle this by himself, that it was preferred really, but somehow having Spock by his side helped. And felt right in a way it wouldn’t have with anyone else.

He turned to Spock with a slight smile. “Well, Mister Spock, ready to depart?”

“When you are, Captain.”

Jim looked back once more at his parents resting place. Then back to Spock. He leaned close and kissed Spock softly, then pulled back to get his bearings.

Spock offered his arm to Jim’s surprise. He took it and they walked together away from the cemetery and Riverside.  

Throwback Thursday #5

This short fic was published September 08, 2016 and is TOS Old Married Spirk

Together

Jim wouldn’t stay out here long. It was chilly. Actually chillier than he’d thought it would be when he’d decided to step outside on the balcony to view the lights of the city as evening turned to night.

He shivered at the cold breeze that seemed to go right through his flannel shirt. Such temperatures wouldn’t have bothered him so much even ten years ago. But a lot had changed since then. He gripped the railing with one hand and lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips with the other.

The door to the apartment opened behind him.

“You should come inside.”

“In a minute,” he told his husband.

Though he heard no sigh coming from Spock, Jim felt it from their bond even still. The door closed and Spock was by his side, as usual, standing at the railing overlooking the city.

“I thought you were not going to indulge anymore,” Spock said quietly.

“It’s only one glass.”

“True. But you did say it had more of an effect on you these days.”

Jim nodded. “I’m old, Spock. Old and fat.”

“I prefer the term pleasingly plump.”

Jim chuckled. “Well, sure, I prefer that too.” He shivered again and Spock moved closer to him without being asked. “Can you believe it?”

“Believe what, Jim?”

“That we made it fifty years.” Jim shook his head. “Who would have thought?”

“I would have. There has been no one else I have wanted like you.”

Jim smiled, feeling warm in spite of the chill. “There was a time when all I could think of was you.”

“And now?”

Jim drained his glass. “It’s still that time.”

Spock covered his hand. “Come inside where it is warm.”

Jim began to turn away and then stopped. “Should we give up the apartment, Spock?”

They hardly spent any time in San Francisco now. Jim preferred to spend their time in Riverside at the farmhouse and Spock preferred to make Jim happy. They’d long since stopped being actively involved in Federation or Starfleet matters. Jim still rode his horses though. Spock fretted about it and tried to pretend he wasn’t fretting.

“Do you believe when we leave here that we will ever return?” Spock asked.

Jim thought about it. Really thought. They didn’t travel well these days, either of them. Though for Spock it was mostly because he didn’t want to travel without Jim. He’d turned down many invitations so that Jim wouldn’t be left alone. “I’m not sure.”

“It is paid for, so there is no harm in keeping it, should you desire.” Spock took his arm and helped him make his way back inside the apartment. “There is no need to make any decision now.”

“You’re right as always, Mister Spock.”

Jim eyed his walker that sat just inside the door of the apartment and decided to forgo it. With Spock’s help he easily made it to his chair in the living room.

“What would you like to drink now?” Spock asked, removing the whiskey glass from Jim’s hand. “Tea?’

Jim grimaced. Even after all these years he never quite acquired the taste for the tea Spock enjoyed so much. “Coffee.” He smiled. “Better make it decaf.”

He leaned his head against the headrest of the chair and closed his eyes as he heard Spock moving around in their kitchen.

Fifty years.

Together.

Oh, sure, they weren’t always a couple during that time. Jim had been a fool and Spock had been stubborn. But after all this time, Jim hardly remembered when Spock wasn’t in his life. By his side.

“Here you are, ashayam.”

Jim took the coffee and opened his eyes to smile at his husband, who sat next to him in his own chair, holding his delicate teacup.  

“You still steal my breath,” Jim told him.

“And you are still illogical,” Spock replied, though Jim felt his affection through their bond.

Jim chuckled. “True. But I do have my moments, Mister Spock.”

“Moments?”

“Of logic.”

“Indeed. And they are always surprising.”

Jim smirked and took a sip of the decaf. “What do you think? Another fifty years?”

Spock inclined his head. “I am willing if you are, Jim.”

He reached over to offer two fingers to Jim who willingly met them.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Flash Fic, October 12, 2020

A bit of TOS. It’s not really that related to October/Halloween/Harvest but I threw in some mentions to make it work!

“It was a dark and stormy night.”

“Why?”

Jim lowered the book and gazed at the small Vulcan child peering up at him from his seat on the floor. Jim was sitting in a chair. The child, Saran, had informed Jim he would sit cross-legged on the carpeted floor.

“Why what?”

“Why was it dark and stormy?”

“Uh. I don’t know. That’s just how the story starts.”

Saran eyed him but nodded.

Jim cleared his throat. Babysitting Vulcans. Ugh.

“Soon he heard an ominous noise outside his window.”

“Why was it ominous?”

“Because he didn’t know what the sound was.”

“Then it should say, soon he heard an unknown noise outside his window. He decided to investigate.”

Jim sighed and closed the book. “I don’t think you’re in the mood for a ghost story.”

Saran sniffed. “Ghosts are illogical.”

“Sure are. So what else would you like to do, Saran?”

“You could tell me about your exploits.”

Jim paused. “My exploits.”

“You are a famous starship captain.” Saran paused. “Or so I have been told. You must have exploits.”

Jim opened his mouth to reply, but then was saved by the sudden appearance of Amanda, Spock’s mother.

“Oh! Here I am. I’m so sorry, Jim, I didn’t mean to be gone for so long.” She came to him and clasped his hands. “Spock’s on his way back now. Thank you for watching Sarek’s nephew.”

Jim smiled. “You’re welcome.”

She leaned in to whisper, “He’s at a bit of a challenging age. It was kind of you to watch him. And I really hadn’t intended to be gone so long.” She patted his arm. “Why don’t you go and wait on the covered terrace for Spock? I’ll send him out there when he comes.”

He tried not to be too relieved as he made his escape out to the terrace. There was a pitcher of cool water out on a table there, so he helped himself to a glass.

Jim had been rather surprised at the invitation to join Spock on Vulcan after they had saved the Earth from impending disaster. Again. Jim didn’t even feel the slightest bit bad about being demoted back to Captain. The admiralty hat hadn’t ever quite fit him.

It seemed that Spock, though he had gotten many of his memories back, he hadn’t gotten them all.  There was a vague memory there, Jim supposed, of their past intimacy, but not enough to convince Spock to reestablish anything. Or so Jim had believed, until this recent invitation.

The door on to the terrace opened and Spock stepped outside. He was wearing those Vulcan robes he seemed to favor on the planet. This was a short visit before they would return to duty.

“Everything okay?”

“Indeed.” Spock came to stand near him. Jim had been viewing some plants in pots there. “My mother’s garden. She has another garden in the back yard.”

“Yes, she showed me earlier. Told me there’s no real harvest time like there is back in Iowa.”

“Yes. I do apologize for staying away so long today. Mother informed me you were required to watch Saran for a time.”

Jim chuckled. “Yep. Not sure I’m very good with children. Probably a good thing Carol kept David from me.” His smile faded, his mood now melancholy.  

Spock, of course, knew. “I am sorry, Jim. For the horrifying loss of your son.”

He nodded, turning away. “The pain is manageable.”

At least I have you, Jim thought.

It wasn’t in the same capacity of what he’d been used to, what he wanted. But it was something. Yes. He would have Spock however Spock would allow it.

“I tried to read a ghost story to Saran,” Jim said, changing the subject.

“A ghost story, Captain?”

“October, Mister Spock. The month of Halloween.”

“Ah.” Spock nodded. “I recall.” He gestured to two chairs. “Will you sit with me? There is something I would like to discuss.”

Trying to stem his curiosity, Jim took the seat and waited as Spock sat beside him.

“I would like to discuss us.”

Jim glanced at Spock’s face, trying to read what that meant. He was unsuccessful in figuring it out. “Us?”

Spock held his hand up in the air toward Jim, who’s gaze zeroed in on it. He swallowed. He must have hesitated too long for Spock began to lower his hand, his brows furrowed. Jim hastily thrust his hand out, rather clumsily, and touched his fingers to Spock’s.

“It-it’s been a long time for that,” he whispered.

“Is it unwelcome?”

“No.” Jim paused, feeling hope spring up in his chest. “No.”

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