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, November 10, 2021

“What’s wrong with you?”

Spock was surprised by the question as he did not believe anyone would know there was anything wrong with him. He had thought he had hid it well as he always did.

He sipped his tea and gave McCoy a slight shrug. “Nothing is wrong, Doctor. I am merely contemplating the recent…situation with the captain and the native on the planet.”



“What about it?” McCoy picked up his fork and stabbed into a plate of eggs.

“I would not have expected the captain to take a wife and…”

“Expect a child with her?”

“ Yes.”

The doctor shrugged. “He had amnesia and forgot all about his life.”

“About us.”

“Right. That bothers you somehow, huh?”

It did but Spock was not sure how to admit it.

McCoy smirked. “You thought we were somehow unforgettable.” He paused for a gulp of coffee. “You thought you were.”

Spock shook his head in deniable.

“That emotion you’re feeling—”

“Emotions are illogical.”

“Is jealousy.”

“Vulcans do not feel—”

McCoy waved this away. “I’m not saying you feel jealous romantically, but you are jealous that your friend could forget your very existence, considering how much time you spend together.”

Spock was saved from arguing further by the arrival of the captain. Kirk paused a moment to look at them somewhat quizzically before approaching them with his tray of French Toast.


“Morning, Spock, Morning Bones. You two looked serious. Something on your minds?”

Spock nearly asked the captain how he felt about the loss of his wife and child, but it was not his business, and at breakfast in the mess was not appropriate anyway.

“No, Captain, there is nothing.”

And a short time later, Spock excused himself to report to the bridge. He didn’t wish to analyze McCoy’s words as to whether he was indeed jealous. He dismissed the possibility as unlikely and decided, that night, he would meditate for a longer time to clear his mind.

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 03/20/2020

Spock woke in a bed that was not his own. For a moment, he could not wrap his mind around it. Even before he fully opened his eyes, fully regained consciousness, the scent of the one he shared the bed with alerted him to the other occupant.


A flood of memories flashed before him, him on his stomach, fisting the sheets, his captain rising above him, pounding and pounding. His body releasing a powerful orgasm. Jim whispering endearing words.

At the moment, Jim still slept, though Spock’s leg was entwined with his. Spock stared at the back of Jim’s head, and as though Jim woke because of that, his captain suddenly stiffened, turned around in the bed and faced Spock for the first time since they’d become…lovers.


He put his hand on Jim’s heart, felt the increased beat. “Jim.”

White Christmas


“I want to go to Riverside for December.”

Spock paused in reading the missive he’d been sent by the Federation. He glanced up from his PADD. “What was that, Jim?’

He had, of course, heard what Jim said, but he was still having trouble processing the idea. Iowa was cold in December and sometimes even had…

“Snow, Spock.”

He stared at his husband.

Who smiled.

Jim sat in his favorite chair, sipping at a glass of brandy in front of a fire in their San Francisco apartment. It was November and to Spock it seemed pleasantly cozy there without having to add something like cold and frost in Iowa.

“I do not understand.”

“Of course you do.”

Of course he did. He knew what Jim said. OF course. But that didn’t mean he agreed with the idea.

“My ambassadorial duties…”

“Can be done from the farmhouse. You aren’t due to go off for any conferences or meetings until after the first of the year, Spock.”


“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas. Like the ones I grew up with.”

Spock opened his mouth.

“The trees glisten with that white stuff. Like sparkling diamonds.”

“The temperature drops to freezing,” Spock said dryly.

Jim chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah, it does. Sweetheart, you don’t ever have to leave the house if you don’t want to. I’ll happily pamper you and allow you to take up the sofa wrapped in luxurious blankets and sipping tea and eating sugar cookies as you please.”

Spock had to admit that did sound rather nice.  Perhaps his little Vulcan heart was melting to the idea.

He opened his mouth.

“We leave in the morning.”


Jim smiled slyly and sipped his brandy. “I figured you’d agree. It’ll be great, Spock. You’ll love it. And I’ll take care of all the outdoor stuff. Firewood, shoveling snow, whatever.”

Spock inwardly sighed. “Very well, Jim.”

“Thank you. You’re the best.”

He shook his head and went back to his missive, but he could not concentrate, and instead got up to pack whatever passed for warm clothes in his wardrobe. He packed for Jim too.   

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.

Flash Fic Friday, August 16, 2019

This takes place after the mission, but before The Motion Picture. TOS, obviously.

Jim nodded. “Okay. So.”

“So,” Spock repeated, tonelessly.

Jim looked behind him at the crowd bustling past them in the shuttle bay. Going about their business without thought to anyone else. Certainly not an idiot Human and an awkward Vulcan.

“Guess.” He cleared his throat. “Guess I should let you be on your way. Don’t want you to miss your shuttle.”

“Yes.” Spock moved to turn around.

“Goodbye, Spock. Good luck with everything.”

Spock looked back at Jim. “And you as well, Captain.”

Jim smiled faintly. “Jim. You’re not even in Starfleet anymore.”

“That is true,” Spock acknowledged. “Jim.”

“Give my best to your parents.”

“And to yours.”

“Will do.”

This time when Spock turned around, Jim didn’t say anything to stop him. But he did watch his former first officer’s retreating figure until he could no longer see him.

Everything was changing, Jim mused. He was no longer in command of the Enterprise, which was being redone anyway. They’d just promoted Will Decker to Captain and it was his ship now. Jim had been promoted. Basically against his will. But it was what it was.

Bones had retired. Soon Jim’s crew would be scattered all over the galaxy.

And Spock?

Kolinahr, from what he’d said.

Purging oneself from every emotion made some sick sort of sense at the moment, Jim thought, as he turned to leave.

As he caught transport back to HQ, Jim tried to forget the sight of the marks he’d left all over Spock’s skin the very night before.

As Spock would say, Kaiidth.  

Ramblings of the Week, November 20, 2017

Hello Friends

This is a super short week for me work wise. As I am only working today! WOO HOO. Got the rest of the week off. I wanted the whole week but with my cruise taking up forty hours of my PTO it just wasn’t doable. Next year!

Happily the rest of the week is mine. I can’t wait until Friday when I can begin to decorate for Christmas. Sunday the 26th is our annual decorate the family’s house for them. I’m bringing wine! But we are getting an early start that day at 8AM.

I drove in this morning, of course, so at least I don’t have to wait to go home for someone else!

Tomorrow night we will finally be seeing Thor.

So, my friend, Appreciative One wrote a story on AO3, that was her fantasy as she was growing up where she was an officer on the Enterprise who ended up stranded with Spock on a remote planet, and they mated, had a baby, and lived happily ever after.

This was her fantasy until she realized there was Spirk. After writing her fantasy and having me express repeatedly how bad I felt for Jim, she decided to fix it with a story from Jim’s point of view. This story is called Life is But a Dream. I thought I was “helping” her write it but after the first two chapters which we did indeed co-write, she asked me to write the rest of the story, where I found a way for Jim and Spock to be together. After all they are T’hy’la.

So I am doing my best. Trying to get it done this week too because I already have a lot to write as it is. It’s The Original Series and is incredibly sad and angsty and has M/F elements, so you are warned if you check it out.

I’ll also be working on the third chapter of Celebrate Me Home.  I won’t deny it will feel good to work on that story with a very happy and in love Kirk and Spock after the angst of the other one.

Anything else? I don’t know.

I did put up the first chapter of my Regency Pinto tale last week. That one will be fun to work on as I go along.

Since it’s Thanksgiving Week I have specific movies I will be indulging in before the big day. Home for the Holidays which is about a very dysfunctional family at Thanksgiving. I can’t even tell you how much I love Charles Durning and Robert Downey Jr in this movie. Two of my favorite performances ever. Charles Durning was a character actor, chubby with white hair as far as back as I can remember. I’ve loved him in many things but there’s just such a poignant charm about him in this movie. And Robert Downey Jr as the gay brother. I just love love love him.

The other is Planes, Trains and Automobiles. A silly, silly movie with John Candy and Steve Martin, and yet there’s also such a sweet poignancy about it as Candy tries to get Martin home for Thanksgiving.

Oh and there’s A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, too.

That’s about it for me. For my US friends (and I think that’s most of you) Happy Thanksgiving.


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