#spock took one look at him and almost passed out

[princessconsuelapark]

my boy jimothy infiltrating the hearts of the enterprise crew one by one until they just give him the ship

[indeedcaptain]

Regulatory Relations, Chapter 22: The Captain

Holy fucking shitballs, yall. This is the end.

Posted on my AO3 here.

All I really have to say after this is thank you.

☆☆☆

Dear Mom and Dad, 

Dear Winona and George, 

Guess what!

Hi, 

[Are you sure you want to close the program? Your content will not be saved. YES / NO] 

☆☆☆

On the first day after the trial, Kirk took ShiKahr’s public transit from Amanda and Sarek’s house through the city center, and out the other side. Alone on the train as it flew along its magnetic track, he watched out the window as the now-familiar sandstone buildings whirled by. They passed the judicial complex where he had spent the entire previous day: he had walked in a suspect and walked out a free man. It rose up before him, sprawling and imposing, passed in an instant, and then vanished. Kirk turned forward again, letting the rest of the city pass him by, and waited for his stop.

The Vulcan Science Academy complex was housed on the outskirts of ShiKahr, built without formal boundaries to account for its near-constant expansion. It crept further and further out into the Forge— the buildings nearest the public entrance were the oldest, their corners sandblasted into curves by the desert wind, but the newest ones, built to house new advances in technology and new fields of research, were still sharp-edged and angular. The hospital was one of the oldest buildings in the complex--- one of the oldest buildings in the city, according to the lecture Spock gave Kirk and Bones that morning over breakfast. It had originally been a temple, housing healers in the millenia before Surak, a holdover from Vulcan’s war-torn history. Even after the wars had ended, the people who lived on the planet needed care, and so the temple of healers remained, now known as one of the most advanced teaching hospitals in the galaxy. 

Kirk gave his name at the front desk, which was manned by a young Vulcan woman wearing scrubs and a student badge, and was granted entrance. He rode a swift and silent elevator up to the eighth floor and stepped out into a warmly lit hall. Enormous windows at either end of the hallway and the recessed light bulbs set into the ceiling gave the impression of midday sun, despite the early hour. He heard voices coming from the left side, and so he turned that way. 

Around another corner he found two Vulcan doctors and a third human one, deep in conversation next to a bench and a variety of potted cacti. The human doctor, with graying red hair and a petite build, turned to him as he approached and said, “I thought you might come by.” Sarah April nodded to the other doctors before she gestured in front of her, and Kirk fell into step beside her. She led him deeper into the labyrinthine building--- the layout designed before the Vulcan preoccupation with logic--- and eventually stopped next to a closed door with a Vulcan sign appended to the front, a phonetic translation of April’s name. She smiled with sad eyes and said, “I’ll be outside if you need anything.” 

Kirk nodded, and opened the door. 

Admiral Robert April lay quietly in a biobed, surrounded by beeping machines and sensors. His head had been shaved, electrodes stuck to his scalp in a neat grid, and his dark skin was sallow under the lights. For a moment Kirk stood in the doorway, unwilling to wake him if he was resting, but then April rolled his head on the pillow to look at him. 

“Enter,” he said, and Kirk did. There was a chair tucked into the corner with a blanket folded over the back of it. Kirk dragged it next to the bed and sat. The whites of April’s eyes were yellowed with exhaustion. Kirk looked at him; the man who had set everything in motion. How much of his behavior was Elise pulling the strings? How much was April unleashed? 

“What do you want, Kirk?” April’s voice was tired, dry, almost a whisper. Kirk had had grand plans--- he had rehearsed what he wanted to say on the train ride there. He had told Spock where he was going and what he wanted to do, and Spock had sent him off with a kiss and a promise to see him later. But his words failed when he looked at the battered body of the man he had thought was his enemy. 

He still saw the phaser fire before it tore through Spock when he looked at April. He saw himself on his knees in the gritty dust of Kindinos, and saw the sniper with the plasma rifle settling her sights on both of them. But he also saw the blinking brutality of the neutralizer and April’s muffled screams beneath it. He saw April, months ago, trying to pull Spock to safety with a promotion to a science ship far from him. He saw April fighting that hidden programming to allow him and his crew to leave the 31 ship with Elise in tow. 

Elise would have hated what he was about to do--- she never could have understood it. Maybe that was why he had to say it. 

“Thank you,” Kirk said. “For what you tried to do for Spock.” April rolled his head away from Kirk, looking up at the ceiling, and scoffed tiredly. 

“For all the good it did, in the end.” 

Kirk shifted to the edge of his chair. He had expected defensiveness, or the silent treatment; not this bone-deep resignation. “For all the good it did? Admiral, if you hadn’t forced the issue, you would still be stuck on that ship and that woman would still be running Section 31.” April looked back at him. “Spock and I only put together all the pieces after we had to start talking about marriage and bonding, and we only did that because you were going to take him away otherwise.” Kirk considered April’s shaved head, the scattering of machines and their symphony of beeping and whirring. He could have left then, his mission accomplished. But something in April’s haggard face told him that the other man was lost.

“I’m sorry that she did this to you,” Kirk said recklessly. “And I’m sorry for putting you here.” April shook his head shallowly. 

“I knew…” he said slowly. “I knew that the charges were a sham. I knew they wouldn’t stick. This was what I wanted.” His voice dragged, like he was having a hard time connecting his mind to his mouth. “You can go, Kirk.” 

Kirk didn’t move. “What are you going to do next?” 

“Resign,” April said. “Retire.” 

“That’s it? You’re going to give up?” The volume of his voice rose involuntarily. April’s eyes flashed to him--- the first movement that matched the vigor that Kirk had come to expect from him. 

“What would you have me do? Weasel back into a desk job after I defiled everything Starfleet stands for?”

“And how much of that was voluntary, Admiral? How much of working for 31 was voluntary at all?” 

In a blink, the fight melted back out of him. April looked away from him. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know anymore.” 

Kirk leaned back in his chair, and for a moment they sat in silence, the only sound the beeping of the machinery. Then Kirk said, “Can I be honest with you?” 

“I doubt anyone could stop you from doing so.” 

“I don’t think it matters anymore, whether or not you know if it was voluntary,” Kirk said. “Enough of it wasn’t, and then you fought it. What matters now is what you’re going to do about it.” 

April raised one hand weakly and gestured at the hospital room around him. “And what am I going to do about it?”

“Fix it,” Kirk said. “Find a way to talk about what you can’t talk about, and then help fix it.”  When April finally looked at him again, there was a spark of life in his eyes: there was hope, a desperate hope, and the yawning cavern of an isolation that Kirk could only begin to understand. 

“How?”

Kirk shifted his chair closer again. “Listen,” he said. “On Vulcan, what she did to us is called nekwitaya …” 

Their situations were different, of course; the sheer volume of scarring in April’s brain was going to require a lot more hands-on medical care than Kirk had needed. But there was no better place for April to recover than on Vulcan, where a planet of telepaths and scientists understood the gravity of what had been done to him. Here, though there was no undoing what had been done, April stood a chance of healing from it. 

When Kirk left, Sarah April was sitting outside the room, reading on her padd. She stood as he exited, concern pulling her eyebrows together and deepening the creases in her face. Kirk sent her Dr. Rowan McIntire’s contact information, and then he went home. 

☆☆☆

The rest of that day was spent on logistics and organization. Kirk and Spock’s bonding would have none of the violence and circumstance of Spock and T’Pring’s koon-ut-kal-if-fee . They were not children, and there would be no challenge: they needed only their consent and a telepath to perform the bonding. Kirk was vaguely disconcerted by the sheer number of details that went into what was, in effect, a simple backyard wedding ceremony, and made a note to give Janice a commendation for coordinating both their engagement party and their first wedding with seventy-two hours’ notice. 

Despite the fervent and genuine invitation that Kirk had extended, Neera Ketoul excused herself from the bonding festivities after he returned from his visit to April. “I do have other clients to attend to, Captain Kirk,” she said, but she shook his hand warmly when he walked her to the aircar that would return her to the transport hub and away. 

“If there’s ever anything that we can do for you, just say the word,” Kirk said. “We could not have done this without you.” 

“Maybe not,” she agreed, with her hand on the door of the aircar. She considered him, her dark eyes and skin shining under the hot Vulcan sun. “My people are not part of the Federation,” she said. “There is a lot of mistrust on both sides, perhaps too much to overcome. But men like you make me think that someday it could be.” 

Later that night, as Bones washed and dried the dishes from dinner, Amanda reached out to the clan to request the services of a healer to perform the bonding, and Spock convinced a local restaurant to cater enough food for at least twenty people on such short notice, Kirk received a high-priority message on his padd from Starfleet HQ. 

Dear Captain Kirk, 

Congratulations! Though, naturally, the details of your court-martial are classified, I’ve received a new set of orders that make me think I can guess how it went. I’ve been called to Vulcan immediately to assist with [THIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN REDACTED]. 

My formal title might be regulations administrator, but not many know that this role includes enforcement, compliance, and oversight, as needed. I think I’m going to have a lot to do over the next few months. 

I’ve been asked to assemble a team for it, which is why I’m reaching out today--- it’s a bit irregular, but if you’re willing to sign off on the transfer and if she agrees, I’d like to request Yeoman Janice Rand for it. She’s got an unparalleled grasp of how and why regulation works in practice, and I could use a mind like hers for what we’re trying to do. 

Let me know what you think, and what she thinks. 

My best to you and the commander. :)

LC Kathleen Lee

Kirk read the message twice before carrying it to Spock, claiming the open seat next to him at the island in the kitchen. Spock scanned it and said, handing it back, “If Yeoman Rand takes this post, I do not believe we will see her again in any short amount of time.” Bones turned to them curiously, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. He cocked an eyebrow up. 

“Oh, I think we’ll see her again,” Kirk said. “It’ll just be when she’s running for president of the Federation.” 

☆☆☆

On the second day after the trial, the morning of his and Spock’s bonding ceremony, Kirk sat undressed on the end of their bed and stared at the empty text block on his padd screen. 

Dear Mom and Dad, I’m getting married today, again. 

I’m Vulcan-bonding with my first officer today. 

Did you go to Sam and Aurelan’s wedding? Would you want to come to mine?

Spock stepped out of the bathroom, barefoot and in an untied robe, and sat down next to him to look at what he was working on. Kirk closed the program and tossed the padd on the bed behind him before leaning into Spock. He was warm and fresh from the sonic, olive and bronzed from months on Vulcan. 

“Do you wish your parents were attending?” Spock’s voice was gentle. 

“Not enough to have written them about it earlier,” Kirk said, and when Spock leaned over him, one long hand against his sternum, he let Spock push him backwards onto the bed. “There’s so much to fix before we’d even get to that point.” 

Spock’s lips brushed the skin behind his ear, down his neck, across one collarbone. “At our current rate, we will have another wedding in approximately eighteen months. You can reevaluate at that point.” Kirk laughed, and Spock’s hand skimmed down his arm, flipping their hands to be palm-to-palm and pressing his down into the mattress. 

“I thought you were tired of parties,” Kirk teased. Spock nipped at him. 

“I have been convinced of their utility,” he said, and slid his hands under Kirk’s hips in a clear attempt to distract him further. His efforts were successful.

The survivors arrived at the house just as the sun was beginning its graceful descent towards the mountains on the horizon beyond the Forge. Kevin wore his dress uniform, but the others were in civilian attire: Ellie and Tommy in near-matching black suits, much to Mira’s delight, and Martha in a dress. Mira wore a hot pink one-piece garment that Kirk couldn’t have named if he had tried, but he watched with a grin as Ellie teased her dryly about having brought party clothes to a court-martial (“We were only coming to testify!”) and Mira defended herself (“Wasn’t I right, though?”).

Bones also wore his uniform. He sidled up to Kirk as they greeted the survivors at the front gate, Vulcan’s closest approximation to a mint julep in hand. 

“Seems to me like you’re starting to wrap things up here, Jim,” he said. “You’ve got more time. No need to rush back into things.” 

Kirk glanced sidelong at him as his friends passed by, led by Amanda towards the garden where the bonding would take place. “I think I’ve had enough time away,” he said. “I don’t want to sit still any longer.” 

Bones’s eyes were shrewd. “But you did sit still for at least a little bit, right?” Down the road a pair of figures began to materialize out of the heat shimmering off the pavement: a round human figure with a short dark thatch of hair, and a bear-sized lump of white and brown. 

“I did,” Kirk said, and watched as the two abstract shapes slowly became Rowan and Suk’han as they approached. “Actually, this is someone I’d like you to meet.” Rowan wore her everyday professional attire that Kirk had come to recognize, but she had woven cactus blossoms into a crown and placed it jauntily over Suk’han’s ears. 

“You’re looking well, Jim,” Rowan said, and smiled approvingly. He grinned and shrugged back at her before turning to Bones. 

“Rowan, this is my chief medical officer, Bones. Leonard McCoy, this is Rowan McIntire. She, ah… she’s the new therapist.”

“Oh?” Bones extended his hand, turning completely towards her to get a better look. 

“The famous Dr. McCoy!” Rowan shook his hand and accepted his inspection. “Tell me, how do you get Bones from Leonard?” As they clasped hands, some sort of mysterious medical understanding passed between them; when Bones smiled back at her, it was genuine. 

“You ask him politely, ma’am,” Bones said, and Rowan laughed wickedly. Suk’han, apparently tired of not being the center of Kirk’s attention, pushed her head against his sternum and leaned a portion of her significant mass against him. 

“Hello to you too,” he murmured, and passed his hands through the thick fur at the base of her neck. She nuzzled him sweetly, and for a moment, abandoning his pretexts at dignity, he threw his arms around her neck entirely. Then he released her, left Bones and Rowan to get to know each other, and went to find his husband. 

The senior staff of the Enterprise were next to arrive. In small groups they beamed down outside the garden gates: Sulu, Chekov, and Pike, then Uhura, Chapel, Janice, and Priyal Khan at Spock’s invitation, and then Sal Giotto and Scotty. Uhura’s feet had no sooner settled into the sand before she was moving, throwing her arms around Spock and Kirk. Spock’s hand came up to stroke affectionately over the back of her hair, but Kirk couldn’t help himself: he picked her up and swung her in a circle as her laughter rang out. There were embraces and back slaps and handshakes all around from his friends; they accepted him back into their ranks as if he had never left.

“God, it’s good to see you all,” he said, grinning so hard his cheeks ached. He squatted next to Chris’s chair to hear him better over the hubbub. His crew mingled in the garden among the cacti and shrubbery with Spock’s parents, Rowan, and the Tarsus survivors. Amanda and Rowan talked quietly by the table of beverages, and something Rowan said made Amanda’s quiet laugh burble through the garden. Suk’han was ecstatic on her back as Mira, Uhura, and Chapel cooed over her spots and rubbed her belly. “How have things been?”

“Surprisingly quiet,” Chris said. “Seems as though you’re the magnet for most of the trouble that the Enterprise gets in.” 

“Hey, now,” Kirk complained, and his eyes found Spock across the way, dark and handsome in the goldenrod light of dusk. “Spock was gone too. Maybe he’s the magnet.” 

“You just keep telling yourself that, son,” Chris laughed. “Maybe someday you’ll convince someone else.” He navigated his hoverchair carefully around Amanda’s plants to talk to Spock, and Kirk basked in the presence of so many of his loved ones. As he stood alone, looking over the assembled, something painful twinged in his heart. Sam should have been here. After so many wounds had been healed and problems solved, part of Kirk thought that Sam and his ridiculous mustache should have emerged, laughing and whole, from behind some curtain. It didn’t seem fair that, after everything, Sam and Aurelan were still dead.

He took a sip of his drink and tilted his head back, letting the last of the day’s sunlight wash over him. I miss you, he thought fervently. I wish you were here for all this. He pictured Sam as he remembered him: throwing open the door to his hospital room, skipping classes with him after his return to school, showing him around the Academy campus when he first arrived, the holos of him holding baby Peter after he was born. He held the ache in his chest with both hands, letting himself miss Sam, before he opened his eyes again. The ache didn’t go away, but it took up a safe and manageable residence in his heart next to everything else. Then he exhaled and rejoined his friends.

Kirk was turned away from the garden entrance, talking to Scotty and Giotto, and so he didn’t see her when she arrived. He only heard the sudden hush that fell over those gathered, and in the silence, he turned. 

T’Pau swept towards him through the garden, the edges of her robes disturbing the sand in tornado-like swirls. It seemed like even the insects and the night-birds had fallen quiet in her presence. Kirk raised the ta’al and glanced quickly at Spock. 

“Elder T’Pau,” he said. “What can I do for you?” He felt, more than saw, Spock wind his way through the crowd and materialize at his side. T’Pau considered him, the half-light casting the wrinkles of her face in sharp contrast. 

“ S’chn T’gai James Kirk,” she said finally. “Thee and Spock are to be bonded.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. She nodded once. Her eyes glinted in the fading light, no less shrewd for her age. 

“Thee has done Vulcan a service,” she said. She raised one hand, her robes collapsing down around her elbow. “If thee will give thy mind, I will bond thee.” Spock’s shoulders settled back in surprise as he clasped his hands behind his back, and Amanda’s eyebrows shot upwards before she reined her facial expression back into a warm neutrality. 

“It would be an honor,” Kirk said, when he found his voice. Spock shifted closer to him, their shoulders brushing, and they both sank to their knees under T’Pau’s titanium gaze. Their family, their friends, formed a loose circle around them and the leader of their clan as T’Pau raised both hands. 

“I will bond thee in the way of our people,” T’Pau said, her voice sonorous in the desert evening. “What thee will witness comes down from the time of the beginning without change. This is the Vulcan heart. This is the Vulcan soul. This is our way. Kah-if-farr! ”

She lowered her hands, and for a second, before she put her fingers on Kirk’s face, she waited. Kirk closed his eyes and nodded. With that consent, she placed her fingers on his psi-points, and the world around him vanished. 

It was dark in the meld. T’Pau’s mind was vast and echoing around him. He could feel the enormity of her intellect, her age, the reverberating katric energy that she carried. He felt very small. He was a speck in the darkness, one single star in the galaxy, and he felt the scrunity when that gargantuan mind came to focus on him. 

James Kirk , T’Pau said. This is the Vulcan way. Thee gives thy mind willingly to another?

There was a tiny part of him, ancient and wounded, that longed to flinch, if only out of habit. But he had not spent the past four months excavating his heart to give in to that habit now. I give it to Spock , Kirk said, or thought. He felt the rumble of her approval rattle the world around him. 

Speak our words, she told him. I would bond with thee, ever and always touching and touched . 

Kirk repeated them back, stumbling at first but then growing in strength: I would bond with thee, ever and always touching and touched. He said them again and again until he could feel his heart beating in time with its rhythm. He heard the echoes of hundreds of thousands of bonded pairs singing with him in T’Pau’s ancestral memory. He repeated them until he could feel himself vibrating with it; he glowed with his conviction. This was for Spock, this was for his best friend and his husband, the man who had walked into hell for him and carried him out--- this was what Kirk wanted to give to him. 

Then, in the darkness --- there was light. A golden sun erupted into flames on the far horizon of T’Pau’s mind. It soared from an impossible distance towards him, trailing a burning thread like a meteor shower behind it, before falling towards him. Kirk held out both hands and caught the tiny star in his palms. It burned. It loved him. It unspooled into thread and formed a glimmering road from his hands to some indescribable point in the dark void beyond, stretching on forever. He felt T’Pau’s sudden and fierce curiosity, so like Spock’s, and the roaring approval of those who had come before him as it lit the way forward. 

This is the Vulcan heart , T’Pau said. Her voice was as stoic as ever, but beneath it, reverberating through the meld-space, he could hear something that was almost surprise. Guidance is unnecessary for thee now. Follow the bond. There was an enormous shifting around him as T’Pau closed parts of her mind off to him; it was suddenly quieter than he had ever experienced. There was only his mind, and his thrumming heartbeat, and the golden burning string that pulled him forward. Follow the bond, James Kirk, T’Pau said. 

Kirk took a fumbling step forward in the darkness, feet falling unsteadily towards the invisible floor under him. Then another. Then another. The string pulled him forward, steadying him, anchoring him. He knew where he was going now. At the far end of the road before him was Spock, his ecstatic curiosity and his secret kindness and the beautiful mind that he had offered to Kirk without reservation. 

Kirk wrapped both hands in the nascent bond before him and took off running. 

Ever and always, ever and always, ever and always . 

The bond grew hotter and hotter in his hands, glowing brighter until it had all but banished the inky void around him. He had been wrong about the color--- it was gold, but it wasn’t only gold. It was the silver of the Enterprise , and the burgundy of Spock’s old quarters. It was the cream and green and gold of wedding streamers, and the blue of a science tunic. It was the umber of Vulcan sand and the black of uniform trousers and the yellow of an Iowa cornfield and the teal of a Tarsus sky. It was everything that was both of them, and it burned in his hands. 

The sense of T’Pau was fading, that ancient intellect melting away. It was replaced instead by the insistent surety that Spock was near, that he was following the same path from the other side. The sense of him grew with every step as the bond glowed white-hot until it was too hot to hold. Even when he dropped it Kirk could feel it in and around him. 

He was in the center of a star, and it flared around him. He was going to burn with it. It was all-encompassing, inescapable, incomprehensible. 

I would bond with thee, he said to the star. Ever and always touching and touched. 

Spock said, I would bond with thee, and his voice was everywhere. Ever and always touching and touched . Spock’s mind was everywhere, and Kirk dissolved in it. He settled entirely into Spock’s hands as Spock spun around him. 

My Jim , Spock said, nearly purring with satisfaction. They tangled in each other.

K’diwa , Kirk said. In the meld there was no hiding his delight. Honey! Spock’s mind curled around his, and Kirk threw his arms open to accept it. He had not known before how literal the translation ‘meld’ was for what he felt: there was no separating them now as they spun around each other, a binary star system, a hurricane, inextricably entwined. He had feared this intimacy so entirely when they had first married, pushing Spock away to prevent the opportunity from ever arising. But none of that fear remained. There was no part of himself that he wouldn’t trust Spock to see and hold. They swung around each other as the star of the nascent bond burned. It slowly consolidated, condensing down from uncontrollable flame into something more like a bridge. It refracted into every color Kirk had ever seen before it settled into a solid arc from his mind to Spock’s. It glowed. 

Spock pressed on it, and it reverberated. Kirk laughed as he felt it vibrate through him, rumbling his bones, lighting up his mind. 

Bondmates , Kirk said. 

Telsu , Spock said. His voice was steady, but there was no hiding his emotion in the bond: it sang with his pleasure. Slowly Kirk became aware of his body again, as well as his mind and the bond. He remembered that there was a world outside of their minds, T’Pau and Spock’s parents and their friends, and he felt Spock’s amusement at his chagrin. 

We will have time, ashayam , Spock said, and in the swirling abyss of the meld Kirk felt his arms come around him. With the bond glowing like a meteor shower between them, he carried them back to the world. 

Kirk’s eyes opened. T’Pau pulled her hands from his and Spock’s faces, shaking her robes back down over her wrists. 

“Thee are bonded,” she declared without preamble, and she only blinked once as the unruly humans around her whooped and hollered. She caught Kirk’s eyes, looking down on him from where he still knelt in the sand, and she nodded. They were now even, he thought, and somehow he was certain that he and Spock would be welcomed back to Vulcan whenever they chose to return. He turned to Spock, a wide smile splitting his face, and Spock pulled him to his feet. The touch of his hands seared through him. By the time he had turned back to T’Pau to thank her, she was already halfway across the garden, a black-robed mass vanishing into the dark. He watched her go until a pulsing warmth in the back of his head pulled his attention back to the garden. Spock watched him, outwardly stoic, but Kirk could feel him through the bond: a subtle and curious joy that he knew didn’t belong to him. The sun had set while they were in the meld, and in the evening twilight Spock glowed in his vision with some invisible, intangible psychic energy.

He held two fingers out, and Spock met him in the ozh’esta. His eyes widened as their hands met and that energy arced between their hands, flashing up his arm and making his hair stand on end. Spock’s amusement and the dark heat of a promise for later in the evening soaked into his mind. 

“I get it now,” he breathed. For a moment the heat overwhelmed him; he only wanted to drag Spock back to the guesthouse and make love to him while the new bridge sang between their minds. But their friends were here to celebrate them; they would have time enough later. With the knowledge of what was to come heating his thoughts, they turned back to their family and friends to celebrate beneath the desert sky. 

The night stretched on as Kirk and Spock mingled with their loved ones. Every brush of their fingers or casual touch sparked down Kirk’s skin, driving him to distraction, and Spock’s well-hidden amusement was evident through the bond. Kirk could feel him in the back of his mind, like Spock had a hand on the back of his neck, and he couldn’t stop himself from nuzzling his mind against the spot just to feel Spock glow with pleasure on the other side. 

Eventually, both too soon and not soon enough, the guests started to say their goodbyes. Tommy and Martha left first, with the promise that they would come by the next day to see Kirk again before they went home, then Mira and Ellie. Rowan and Suk’han followed, much to Chapel and Uhura’s disappointment. Rowan gave Kirk a hug before she left. 

“You keep my information, you hear?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Kirk said. 

“My new best friend Bones will tell me if you need to reach out and you don’t,” she said, and Kirk’s eyes widened with betrayal. 

“I never should have introduced the two of you!”

Rowan shrugged. “Maybe,” she said. “But it’s too late now.” She waited as Kirk pressed his forehead to Suk’han’s, fondling her ears and accepting a rough-scrape lick across his cheek, and then, with one more smile, she left. Bones appeared at his shoulder. 

“I like her,” he said immediately, and Kirk slapped him on the back. 

“I’m sure you do,” he said. The Enterprise crew started beaming back up to the ship as well; Bones retrieved his things from the main house and accepted hugs from Amanda and Kirk before he left. As Janice stepped forward with Uhura and Chapel, Kirk snagged her arm. 

“If you don’t mind too terribly,” he said. “I have a work question for you.” 

“Sure, captain,” she said, and nodded to Christine and Uhura for them to continue on without her. Kevin dropped in behind them, returning to the Enterprise rather than ShiKahr now that the trial was over. Kirk steered them a few paces away from the rest of the crew as Spock saw them off, trying not to twitch as Spock left his side for the first time since they were bonded, and said, “I received an interesting message today.” 

Janice’s eyebrows went up. “Interesting how?” 

“It was a job offer for you.” Her eyebrows went higher, climbing towards her braided beehive. 

“What type of job?” 

Kirk considered her, trying to gauge how best to explain Lee’s offer. He mentally backed up, and instead put both hands on her shoulders. 

“Thank you,” he said first. “For all your help before the trial. I don’t know what we would have done without you.” 

“Oh,” she said, pleased, and looked down. “I’m sure that it would have been fine, you had Kathleen---” Then she cut herself off, and to Kirk’s immense surprise, blushed. “Lieutenant Commander Lee,” she said awkwardly. 

“Now, Janice,” Kirk said slowly, grinning, “What’s all this about?” 

“Nothing, captain,” she said immediately. Kirk shook her by the shoulders.

“We are at my wedding, yeoman,” he said, and released her. “I think you can be a little personal, if you want.” She looked up at him, blue eyes enormous, and covered her cheeks with the backs of her fingers before she said, “It’s nothing. It’s really nothing. It’s just…” She took a deep breath and said, her blush returning with a vengeance, “I’ve never met anyone whose mind works like hers before. Like mine. Working with her…” She trailed off and looked down.  

“You like her,” Kirk said, and Spock looked over at him in response to his pulse of delight over the bond. 

“I don’t know,” she protested. Kirk had never seen her at a loss for words before. “I’ve never even met her in person. I just…”

“She offered you a job,” Kirk said, unable to hide the grin spreading across his face. “She messaged me today. If you want it, I’ll sign your transfer.”

“What?” Her voice was sharp with shock. She covered her cheeks again. The bond in the back of Kirk’s head vibrated and shivered as Spock approached. 

“I believe her exact words were, ‘She’s got an unparalleled grasp of how and why regulation works in practice,’” Spock said. “She has been tasked with something in the aftermath of the court-martial, and requested you for her staff.” Janice pressed her hands harder against her cheeks. 

“I… But…” She looked up at them, her eyes shining. 

“Yeoman,” Kirk said, and felt Spock settle his hand at the base of his spine. The contact sent shivers over his skin, refracting in his vision. “Can I give you some advice?” She nodded. He leaned into Spock’s shoulder and said, “Take the leap.” 

Janice closed her eyes and nodded again. Then she dropped her hands away from her face and straightened, and Kirk saw the steel in her spine reassert itself. 

“By your leave, captain,” she said, voice high with excitement, and Kirk nodded. With one more mischievous grin breaking out over her face, she turned and ran to where Giotto was waiting to beam up. Kirk and Spock turned to the last of their guests. The rest of the crew then beamed back to the ship, and when Kirk watched them go, it was with the knowledge that he would be joining them soon.

He and Spock helped clear away the detritus of celebration, and under the light of T’Khut stole away back to the guesthouse. Before the door had even shut behind them entirely Spock had pushed him back against it. It clicked sharply in the silence, and before the echo had even faded away entirely Spock was on him, tongue and teeth against his skin and his hand sliding down into his trousers. Finally he could focus entirely on the new bond in the back of his mind. When he closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the door as Spock licked down his neck, he felt not only his own arousal, but Spock’s too, shuddering over the bond in great gasps. He pulled Spock’s face to his so he could kiss him. He slid his tongue past the seam of Spock’s lips as they parted for him, one of Spock’s hands coming up to cradle the back of his head and hold him in place. He listened, and felt it like the ocean: behind a barrier that he could only assume were Spock’s shields, some raging morass swelled. Kirk slid his hands under Spock’s robes, running them up his chest, and he could feel it: both Spock’s heat and skin under his palms, but also the mirror of the feeling through the bond, the way Spock tingled and lit up at his touch. Their mutual arousal bounced between them, magnifying with each pass down the bond of nails against backs and teeth against nipples and tongues against skin. Kirk pushed him backwards towards the bed, pulling Spock’s robes off his shoulders and sliding his hands greedily over the miles and miles of exposed skin. He glowed in the light of T’Khut through the windows, rippled scars and body hair and bony joints all illuminated for Kirk’s admiration. Spock was his, every inch and neuron, to touch and hold and love. 

“Yours,” Spock murmured in response as he let Kirk push him backwards onto the bed. Kirk crawled over him, relishing the mirrored drag of skin and hair, the way Spock ground up against his thigh between his legs. 

Yours , Kirk thought down the bond, as loudly as he could, and felt Spock’s mind throb in response. The dual sensations of both him and Spock were overwhelming. He was flying blind, but he followed his instincts: he pressed his mind messily against Spock’s shields as he kissed and licked and bit down his body. Let me in, let me see you. 

Ashayam--- Spock’s mind-voice was breathless as Kirk took him into his mouth, kneeling between his legs. His own cock throbbed, untouched, as what Spock was feeling flooded over him. He felt giddy with overstimulation, high on the sensation of the reverberating bond, the tether between their minds bouncing with movement and arousal. He crawled back up the bed to retrieve the lubricant from Spock’s bedside table. When he settled back next to him to work him open, Spock peeled back the layers of his shields in a striptease unlike any other.

Kirk did not frequently forget that Spock was an alien, a completely different species than himself; but it had never been so apparent than it did when Spock’s senses started to leak down the bond. His hearing was far keener than Kirk’s, his color vision slightly different, his sense of smell completely different. He closed his eyes to take it all in as he opened Spock up by touch alone. The way Spock saw him, felt him, smelled his sweat and sex--- all of it pulsed and dripped like wax down the bond into his mind. His fingers in Spock sparked with latent psi-energy, now made tangible through their bonding, lighting him up from the inside. Then Spock brought his hand up to Kirk’s face, sliding over his cheekbones and settling onto his psi-points. They slipped into the meld.

His body continued to move on autopilot. He settled between Spock’s thighs and pulled him into his lap. Spock groped at his shoulders and bit his neck as he slid into him, but all of his attention was within. He no longer had any concept of controlling or directing his own thoughts; the bond and Kirk’s mind were flooded with Spock. Spock slid into his mind. Spock pressed him open, the sheer overwhelming depth of his regard and his arousal dripping and licking into every fold and crevice. He could see himself the way Spock saw him: he could see shades that Kirk’s human eyes never could have distinguished. In Spock’s vision, he glowed a thousand shades of gold. 

Kirk laced his fingers through Spock’s, pinning his hands down against the mattress, and buried his face in his neck with his eyes closed. He listened to Spock’s sharp little gasps and let Spock’s mind push into his, tonguing him open, laving his love, his thoughts, his lust over everything he was. The bond drew them tighter and tighter, swelling with the energy that poured between them, vibrating until it was singing one clear note between them--- 

When they came, they came together, and the bond erupted into glimmering shards of light. 

☆☆☆

When he awoke the next morning, Kirk’s padd had a notice on it from the Enterprise .

By order of Dr. Leonard McCoy, chief medical officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise, Captain James Kirk is authorized to return to duty, with no restrictions, effective start of next Alpha shift. 

His jag of bright sharp happiness startled Spock out of sleep, who turned to him immediately, reaching for him across the bed. “Jim?” 

Kirk flopped backwards onto the pillows and tossed his padd out of reach before rolling over Spock, straddling his hips and pressing his forehead to his. Spock skimmed his hands over his back and ass, his question floating over the bond and through his skin. 

Kirk said, “Let’s go home.”

☆☆☆

Kirk and Spock prepared lunch in the kitchen of the main house before the survivors arrived. They would spend a few hours together before they scattered back to the far corners of the galaxy; Tommy and Martha to their university, Mira and Ellie to their school, and Kirk and Kevin back to the Enterprise . After they’d all arrived and eaten together, Spock extended a gracious hand in front of him and said to Martha, “Would you care to see my mother’s garden? She has encouraged many non-native plants to flourish here.” 

“Yes! I meant to ask you about Vulcan pollinators last night,” Martha said immediately, and smoothed a hand over Tommy’s hair as she passed him and followed Spock outside. The door shut quietly behind them, leaving the survivors seated around the island. It struck Kirk that, without his noticing, he and his kids had sat around a table to share a meal for the first time since Farm School. He and Tommy had both found partners with whom they could share what they had endured, Kevin had carefully eaten nearly an entire plate with only one preliminary flinch, and with every moment spent in their company Ellie became a little less private. She was still reserved--- she and Mira had always had different temperaments--- but she shared more of her own interests, rather than letting Mira talk for both of them. Kirk learned that Martha and Tommy wanted children, that Ellie had a partner but Mira was uninterested in romance, that Kevin was the number one scorer across all of Starfleet on a popular holo-vid game. With every detail that he learned about them, their hollowed-out, desolate faces in his memory were replaced with them as they were now: scarred but alive, so alive. Even if they did not stay in contact any longer now that the trial was over, seeing them was a gift to him. 

The survivors stayed for three hours, talking over their empty plates. Martha and Spock eventually rejoined them with Martha’s promise to send along her research on artificial pollination for transplanted flowers, and Kirk spent his afternoon drinking in the pleasure of their company. His kids, his friends--- he had asked for help and they had risen to the challenge with a grace he had never predicted. 

Their time was winding down when Tommy said quietly, “I’ve been thinking about something since we got here.” All attention turned to him. He released his mask from the side of his head and rubbed the damaged skin self-consciously before resealing it. “I want to find Laika’s parents, and Madeleine and Natalya’s if possible, and tell them the truth.” Martha’s hand found Tommy’s under the table. For a second there was silence around the table as they remembered their fallen friend, the empty sixth chair, who had only tried to preserve their meager water supply and had died for it. They remembered the adults who had tried to save them.

“Yes,” Mira said, voice firm, and Ellie nodded. “They should know.” 

“Madeleine and Natalya were Starfleet,” Kirk said, and looked at Spock and Kevin. “Their emergency contacts might still be listed in their cadet files.”

“One of my professors from the Academy had been on the Valiant ,” Kevin offered. “She might know something useful, too.”

Tommy grinned lopsidedly across the table at Kirk, and Kirk grinned back. 

Kirk and Spock stood on the long, low front porch as the rest of the survivors called for aircars to take them to other transport or commed the Enterprise to be beamed back up. When it was time for each to go, Kirk pulled them in for a hug.

“Thank you,” he told each one, and each time he received a variation on a theme: I’m so glad you asked. I’m so glad you reached out. I’m happy that I could help you. Thank you for bringing us back together.  

Then it was only him and Spock standing in the late-afternoon sun, and Spock asked, “Will you remain in contact with them now?” 

“God, I hope so,” Kirk said. “Maybe I’ll let them all get home and settled before reaching back out again, though.” 

Then his padd dinged. He pulled it from his pocket. 

You have been invited to a group message by Mira Alcanzar: FARM SCHOOL FAMILY. Accept invitation? [YES / NO]

☆☆☆

Amanda and Spock prepared a special dinner for their last night on Vulcan: a wildly illogical smorgasbord of the foods that Kirk had enjoyed most during his time there. Breakfast breads rested alongside the vegetable wrap that he had eaten every day for lunch for three weeks in a row after first being introduced to it. There was a lot of soy; Vulcans had figured out ways to prepare tofu that even centuries of Earth vegans hadn’t attempted. Sarek, home earlier than usual from the embassy, joined them, and though dinner was quieter for his presence it was not tense or unpleasant.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Amanda assured them after they all cleared away the plates, either stored or recycled what hadn’t been eaten, and Sarek had vanished into his office. “But the house will feel so strange once you’ve gone back.” 

“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. For us,” Kirk said to her. He dried the dishes that she had deemed too delicate for the sonic and replaced them in their proper places. She handed him the last glass and leaned her hip against the counter, turning to look at him. 

“Logic does not need to be thanked, Jim,” she said. Then she laid her hand on his arm. “And neither does family.” His throat tightened at the unexpected words. She smiled as he struggled with his composure and turned to the kitchen at large, where Spock wiped down the table. 

“I hope you come visit when you’re able,” she said. “I hope it’s not another twenty years before we get Spock back here.” 

“I’ll see what I can do, ma’am. But if you could send me a list of anything that would qualify me for clan protection again, I might be able to speed up the process.” He and Amanda laughed as Spock raised an incredulous eyebrow at him, and then they bid her goodnight. 

They were halfway across the garden to the guesthouse when a deep voice called, “ Sa-fu. ” Spock straightened immediately and turned over his shoulder. Kirk turned with him as a spark of surprise flickered down the bond. Sarek stood by the back door, illuminated by the light of the main house; it swirled over the waves of his hair and caught in his robes. 

“ Sa-mekh,” Spock said, and Kirk felt the twinge of question and confusion in Spock’s mind. When was the last time he had called his father by that word, instead of his name? Had it been before that last catastrophic fight, before Spock joined Starfleet?

Sarek hesitated for a moment, before he crossed to them. For a moment he looked at his son, and his son at him. Then Sarek extended something between them. Spock took it and held it up in the light: it was a wrapped packet of coiled ka'athyra strings.

“Your playing has improved since your youth,” Sarek said. “But it appears that the strings on your instrument have not been replaced.” 

“ Ka’athyra strings are rarely sold off of Vulcan, and therefore difficult to acquire while on mission,” Spock said, and gently turned the packet in his hands. He looked at his father. 

“Then it would be prudent for you to return in order to purchase them more regularly,” Sarek said. He looked at his son, and though his face remained still, something in his eyes softened. He drew himself up and said, in the measured tones of the perfectly logical, “Your mother would like it.” He stepped backwards, as if to distance himself from what he had said, and instead raised the ta’al . “I travel early in the morning for a meeting, so I will not see you before you depart. Live long and prosper, Spock. Captain Kirk.” 

Spock and Kirk both raised the ta’al . “Live long and prosper, Father,” Spock said, and Sarek nodded once before turning and sweeping back into the house. Spock looked down at the strings in his hand before looking at Kirk with something close to abject shock bouncing over the bond. Kirk ran his hand over Spock’s back, leaning into him for a moment, and they continued back to the guesthouse to pack.

Before Kirk fell asleep that night, he sent a message. 

Dear Mom and Dad, 

I hope you’re both doing well. How is the U.S.S. Sausalito? Are you headed anywhere new? 

I wanted to let you know that I’m married now--- to my first officer, S’chn T’gai Spock of Vulcan. We were bonded on Vulcan while we were on-planet for leave. If we ever cross paths, I’d love to introduce him to you. He’s great. I think Dad would like him a lot. 

I also wanted to talk to you about something else. I’m not sure if you heard, but there was a court-martial recently--- I was cleared, but the trial brought up a lot of evidence about what happened when I was a kid. If you’re up for it, I’d like to talk to you about it. If you’re not, that’s fine. But the offer stands. 

Anyway, that’s all. Safe travels. 

Your son,

Jim

He closed his padd and dropped it onto the bedside table before rolling to wrap himself around Spock’s back. Part of him wanted to refresh his messages over and over until the battery died. Part of him hoped that his parents never responded. But he had done his part; the only thing he had control over was whether or not he had sent the comm. 

They might respond and refuse to acknowledge that anything had changed, or refuse to talk about Tarsus at all. They might prefer to stay estranged and leave themselves at arm’s distance. But Kirk had reached out. He would leave that hand extended, because that was what he did: he would rather reach out and fail than never try and wonder forever.

In the end, he thought, what his parents decided to do now wouldn’t really matter. He knew that, either way, he would be okay.

☆☆☆

The next morning, Kirk pulled his uniform down off the hanger in the closet for the first time in four months. He held it in his hands, letting it slide through his fingers to the bed, before stripping off his sleep clothes and stepping into them. He sensed Spock’s approach before the door opened, and when Spock entered from the bathroom in his science blues, Kirk turned with his hands outstretched and said, “How do I look?” 

Spock scanned him from head to toe and back again, and though his face did not change Kirk could feel him through the bond: pride and appreciation, a flicker of arousal that Kirk noted with curiosity and tucked away to consider in detail later, and his love. 

“Ready for duty, sir,” Spock said, and bent to kiss him. 

They met Amanda in the backyard with their bags. She was dressed to leave for her own work, hair wrapped carefully to prevent it being tossed in the day’s high winds, and unclasped her hands from in front of herself as they appeared. Kirk accepted a hug and Spock raised the ta’al .

“Please let us know how you’re doing every once in a while,” Amanda said to Kirk, eyes twinkling at them both. “Us human mothers do appreciate a sign of life.” 

“I’ll make it happen, ma’am,” Kirk said, grinning. Then, with a lurch of joy and apprehension, he flipped open his comm. “Captain Kirk to Lieutenant Commander Scott.” 

“Scotty here,” a welcome voice called back. “On standby for transport, sir.” 

“Thank you again, Amanda,” Kirk said, and Amanda smiled warmly. 

“You’re always welcome here, Jim,” she said. Then her focus turned to her son. “I love you, sa-fu. ” Spock inclined his head, and as Kirk gave Scotty the word and the transporter grabbed them, the bond twanged with gratitude and warmth and something that felt like daring. 

“And I you, ko-mekh ,” Spock said. Before the transporter whirled them away, they got one good look at the expression on Amanda Grayson’s face as she registered what Spock had said. It was beautiful. 

Kirk and Spock materialized on the starship Enterprise for the first time in four months, and it immediately felt like home again. Kirk closed his eyes, still standing on the transporter pad with his bag over his shoulder, and listened to the music of his ship: the constant low roar of life support and aircon, the beeps and whirrs of panels and machinery fans, footsteps in the hallway and the voices of his crew, and one Montgomery Scott at the transporter control panel calling, “Good to have you back, captain!” 

“Ah, Scotty,” Kirk said, and grinned broadly. “There’s no place like home.” They stepped out of the transporter room and were immediately overwhelmed by a chorus of “welcome back!” and “good to see you!” from the crew passing through the halls. Tired engineers leaving the bay after Gamma shift passed bright-eyed Alpha scientists headed down to the science decks early--- the scientists did double-takes at Spock’s reappearance, raising the Vulcan salute and squeaking their hellos before darting down to the labs. Kirk bounced on the balls of his feet, drinking it all in. He had been returned to his ship, rested and repaired and more grateful than he had ever been in his life for the crew that had held space for him while he was away. He wanted to wrap his arms around the entirety of the ship and hold it close to him.

Spock pulled Kirk’s duffel bag off his shoulder and placed it onto his own. “I will return our possessions to our quarters and meet you on the bridge,” he said. Amusement and affection pulsed over the bond, spilling into his mind, as Spock thought, Go. I’ll see you in a moment. Kirk grinned at him, quietly pressing two fingers to Spock’s, and slipped with Scotty into the crowd. 

He had thirty minutes before the start of Alpha shift, and he intended to make them count. He started by following Scotty down to Engineering to say hello to the engineers before shifting upward to the labs. He waved to Dr. Khan and Spock’s scientists, many of whom giggled and waved at the return of his formerly unexplained presence in the lab. He stuck his head in the crew mess to shout hello and grab a coffee, did the same in the officers’ mess, popped into the gym and Giotto’s office, and rode the turbolift just to hear the whooshing of it. He climbed a Jeffries tube and scared the living daylights out of an unprepared ensign when he swung out of it. He eventually found himself on the D deck: the longest strip of uninterrupted corridor on the ship, dead in the center and reaching from fore to aft. He didn’t see a single other person in the hallway; it didn’t have a formal use, and mostly served as a conduit to other places. 

He raised his hands high above his head, stretching and breathing in the slightly stale tang of recycled air. The oxygen level on the ship was higher than that of Vulcan, and he was high on the difference. He would miss Vulcan. He would miss the guesthouse and Amanda’s kitchen and the purple tile of Rowan’s ceiling. But the Enterprise was his home; this was where he belonged. He bounced on the balls of his feet and relished the feel of his uniform against his skin and the comfortable tread of his work boots against the floor. Then, completely alone, unwatched, and free, he ran the entire length of his beloved ship, laughing like a kid.

Kirk arrived on the bridge thirty seconds before the start of Alpha shift. The turbolift door whooshed open, and it was like the past four months had never happened: Uhura at the communications console, Sulu and Chekov bickering at the front, Spock standing at parade rest by the sensors, already looking at the turbolift when Kirk arrived. Chris wheeled his chair around as a rush of warmth engulfed Kirk: welcome backs and hellos, and Spock’s pleased pride and comfort humming in the back of his mind.

 “Welcome back, Captain Kirk,” Chris said. 

“Thank you, Admiral,” Kirk said, and grinned. “I relieve you, sir.” 

“I am relieved,” Chris said, and for a moment it crystallized between them: that unique love that a captain had for the ship they commanded, and their appreciation for the ship and the crew that they loved in common. Then Chris backed out of the chair-stall and Kirk strode down the steps to it. He flipped the seat back down and, after all his time away, sat back into it. 

He leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. It felt a little different, after the alterations that Scotty had made for Chris’s chair. But he was different, as well, so that was alright. 

“Your orders are to escort me, Morrow, and Drake back to Earth,” Chris said. “Then you’ll head back out to the black.” His eyes flicked to a padd that Kirk hadn’t noticed, resting on the arm of the chair. “That came this morning.” Kirk sat forward and flicked it open to read as Chris made his farewells to the rest of the bridge crew and steered himself into the turbolift. 

HIGH PRIORITY 

CONFIDENTIAL 

Captain Kirk, 

It’s been a productive few days for us, but it seems like every time we learn something concrete, it sends us down another rabbit hole of secrets. My prediction of a few months of work may have been premature. We’re not waiting for the investigation to be done, though, before we start rectifying some of the more egregious violations. Please see attached an assignment for after you return the admirals to Headquarters. If you find it more painful than helpful, let me know, but I’ve decided that you and Lieutenant Riley get the right of first refusal on this one.

Two other updates for you: first, Admiral April is remaining on Vulcan for the time being so that he can work with the VSA to repair the damage done by the neutralizer. Though communication is complicated on that front at the moment, he has indicated that he intends to remain embedded with my team until the work is done. 

I did tell him what I was going to offer to you, and he said, and I quote, to “call it a belated wedding gift.” 

Second: Janice says hello. Thank you again for signing her transfer - she has been invaluable already. 

Reach out if you refuse the mission or if there are any complications. If not, report the outcome back to me once completed. 

Best,

LC Lee

Kirk tapped on the bond to get Spock’s attention as he re-read Lee’s note. His attention snagged on the phrase ‘right of first refusal’ as Spock left his sensors to stand at his shoulder and read the padd in his hand. 

Any guesses?

None that I am willing to put forth. 

Kirk tapped to the next page and pulled up the mission itself. Across the top was branded FOR EXTRADITION: CRIMES AGAINST SENTIENT LIFE. 

Then beneath that was LAST KNOWN ALIAS: ANTON KARIDIAN. 

Anton Karidian was a man who seemingly sprang to life eighteen years previously solely to perform as an actor on various far-flung planets. Beneath the brief dossiere of information known about him was the formal assignment signed by both Lee and April: This alias may be used by the man formerly known as Governor Kodos of Tarsus IV. Investigate, confirm, and if confirmed, capture alive and return to Earth for trial and sentencing.  

“My god,” Kirk said quietly, and covered his mouth with one hand. He scanned the information again: it wasn’t much, but it had come from April and Lee. Shock from him and comfort from Spock filled the bond in equal measure. A small part of him wailed in distress at the thought of facing the man who had killed his friends and destroyed Farm School. But there was a larger, louder, stronger part of him that called for justice. 

He had already faced Elise and found justice for himself and his friends; here was an opportunity to do the same on a much larger scale. He thought about the eight thousand people that had died on Tarsus: his friends and his teachers and an enormous list of people that he had never met and would never know. They deserved accountability from the Federation; they deserved for their stories to be told. He turned his eyes to the viewscreen ahead of him. Below them was Vulcan, and ahead were the stars, so many little pinholes of light in a black velvet sky. But closer to him were his beloved bridge crew, his friends and his family, and they were prepared to follow him wherever he chose to lead them. 

He looked down at the data sheet about Karidian. The troupe that he led was making its way through the Alpha quadrant; they could drop the admirals off on Earth and then continue on an intercept path to meet them before they got to Planet Q, where Tommy and Martha lived. He closed the padd. He would talk to Kevin before formally accepting, but he thought he had an idea about what Kevin might say about it. The Enterprise would take the mission, and he would tell his crew what their goals were when they were closer. He might tell the bridge crew why they had been assigned this mission, this man; he might even tell a select handful what he felt about it. 

Kirk might find an unlucky stranger, or he might find the man who had walked through his nightmares. But he wouldn’t do it alone. 

“Mr. Chekov, plot a course to Earth. Mr. Sulu, prepare for warp three,” Kirk said, and leaned back in his chair. He crossed his legs again. Behind him, Uhura called the Vulcan interstellar transportation authority to clear their exit, and his helmsman and his navigator in front of him ran through their checks together as they prepared for their departure. 

His science officer, his husband, his bondmate stood quietly at his side, and rested one hand on his shoulder before returning to his sensors and scanners. Even when the touch of his hand had dropped away, Kirk felt Spock’s attention through the bond: partially on his console, partially humming at the presence of Kirk’s mind nearby. He would need to learn to shield, at some point, or risk distracting Spock every time he looked over and saw him bent over the scanners just so. But they would have time enough for that; in the meanwhile, he was enjoying the constant comforting hum of Spock’s ever-churning mind in the back of his own.

“Course locked, captain,” Chekov said. 

“Ready for warp, captain,” Sulu said. 

“Impulse power until we’re out of Vulcan’s range, Mr. Sulu. Then take us away,” Kirk said. The ship hummed and beeped and sang around him as his orders were followed, and he watched the stars shift through the viewscreen ahead until the ship leapt to warp and they smeared into blurry streaks of light. 

Ad astra per amorem; and onward.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Martha and Tommy's first child, a daughter, is named Natalya. Giotto and his wife Miriam get to buy their house in Cairo, where they make up for the time they didn’t have. Janice and Kathleen Lee, along with Admiral April, have their work cut out for them. It’s ugly, and Elise does not let go without a fight--- but when it’s over, Lee will ask Janice to marry her. Sulu and Dr. Khan had a great time working together. When Sulu is offered his own command down the line, he takes her with him as his science officer. And Kirk and Spock, of course, live happily ever after.

[darkness-and-books]

Star Trek (TOS)

so I was making bracelets the other day and I thought of these. They’re just some little headcanons for how some of my favourite TOS characters would react if you made them a bracelet (when you guys are dating and not public) SFW

James T. Kirk

You 100% stole an Enterprise emblem pin off of something to use as a charm on it.

The beads are arranged in a pattern of one plain yellow bead and then one yellow bead with glitter in it (rinse and repeat pattern)

when he sees it he’s kinda surprised, but only for a moment before absolutely melting 🫠.

he can’t believe you thought of him while doing crafts because he knows you do crafts to unwind after a long day.

is not nearly as concerned as he should be about where exactly the pin came from

Will get very upset and hide away until he finds it again if he ever loses it

“This is for me?” He sounds a bit floored, “umm, yeah, it’s okay if you don’t like it, I could-“ he doesn’t let you finish your sentence. “No, no, no! I love it!” He quickly slipped it onto his wrist before you could even think to take it back.

A couple of weeks later you assume that he probably took it off and left it somewhere in his quarters to be forgotten

but he would NEVER dare take it off

you honestly almost cry when you see him still wearing it

When you bring it up he’s a little insulted no he’s not that you would even think that it would leave him ever

Jim is riled up about something as he’s talking to Spock and you were listening, but then he put his hands down on the table in front of him and you noticed something. He was still wearing the bracelet you made him! Of course, McCoy being McCoy, he has also noticed this and has to put something in about. “I get that you love the Enterprise, but isn’t that a bit much?” Leonard shouts across from across the bridge. Kirk turns a slight shade of pink at the jest, but does a surprisingly good job of ignoring it. Later when he leaves the bridge you run up to him and give him the biggest hug you can manage. “I know I’m irresistible, but this a little unusual, even for you, sweetheart” Jim jokes, “You’re still wearing it” you say softly into his shoulder. It takes him a moment to catch onto what you’re talking about, but when he does, he lets out a soft chuckle that you can feel rumble through his chest. “Of course I am” he whispered into your hair as he gave you a kiss on the head.

Leonard ‘Bones’ McCoy

You have a bit of a harder time trying to figure out what charm to put on his bracelet

you definitely spend a long while overthinking because you want it to be perfect

one night as you’re about to go to bed though the perfect idea hits you

its so brilliant and yet so simple

you decide on a little femur 🦴 charm, actually two, so it’s plural just like his nickname

You’d use black and blue beads and put one of each colour between the two charms to separate them a little.

At first he doesn’t even look up at you because he’s going through some medical records.

so in a small fit of anxiety you toss it on his desk and literally run away before he can look and see how stupid cutesy it is

When he does see it though he makes heart eyes at it😍

His, no backsies

Pretends to go back to work after slipping it on is secretly kicking his feet and bubbling up inside

He will track you down after his shift to thank you for it because he LOVES it

“I brought you something” you softly announced, “just a second, darlin’ I’ve some forms to finish” he really didn’t mean to dismiss you, he just couldn’t afford to loose his train of thought just then. There was a clatter on the desk in front of him and before he could properly process the event you had disappeared. He looked up from his padd to see a little bracelet with two bone charms on it, on his desk. For a brief second he smiled ear to ear, it was so quick that any nurse passing by would have sworn it was a hallucination. He quickly put his padd down to put the bracelet on and then quickly pretended to go back to his work. Later, after his shift, he finally found you in your quarters. Your door swooshed open and you looked up. “Oh, hi” you blushed as you saw McCoy. He sat down next to you and kissed you on one cheek, then the other, and finally gave a quick peck to your lips before thanking you. “I love it so much, darlin’, thank you” he declares as he gives you another kiss.

You’re entirely certain that he only wore it for a little while to humour you and it was probably sitting in the drawer of his nightstand now

he just doesn’t strike you as the kind to wear jewellery.

boy are you wrong though, he’s an absolute sap sentimental

Would eat a tricorder rather than willingly take it off

You scraped your knee up when the Enterprise hit some unexpected turbulence. It seriously barely even bled, but Leonard still RAN to you. He had you sit down on a biobed while he inspected your knee. When he reached up with some disinfectant you noticed he was wearing the bracelet. Your heart leapt as you reached for his wrist. “I know that disinfectant stings, darlin’, but you still have to let me clean it for you” he insisted. You pulled his wrist up to your lips and placed a kiss right on his pulse point, “You’re still wearing the bracelet!” You softly exclaimed. Leonard looked at his wrist before looking lovingly into your eyes. “Of course I am, it’s amazing, thoughtful, and reminds me of the girl I love” he cooed, “but I still have to disinfect your scrape” he raised an eyebrow at you as he slowly pulled his wrist away from your face.

Spock

This gives you soo much anxiety to do

what if he doesn’t like it? Or doesn’t understand? Or doesn’t like it because it’s “highly illogical”?

Sure he’s half Vulcan, but he’s also half human

in the end you decide on a charm of the Vulcan salute 🖖, which you picked up on a shore leave awhile back

unlike with the other two, you had decided on some very nice glass beads instead of the big plastic ones, they’re sort of marbled various shades of blue

(Maybe like these) I put a link in the picture to them on Amazon in case anyone decides they actually want them

You definitely hold onto this bracelet for what feels like way too long before you muster the courage to give it to him

You probably give it to him when he’s looking a bit down, or as down as he would ever allow himself to look

he probably turns a light shade of green when you give it to him

not that he’s actually sure why you’ve given it to him or what it means, but you gave it to him and for about 30 seconds that’s all he actually cares about

which might be a record amount of time for him to go without following a logical thought process to its exhaustion

internally warms him, he finds it endearing, feels the need to gift you something in return

As you hand it to Spock he slowly raises an eyebrow before turning the slightest shade of green and putting it on with so much care, as if one breath might shatter every bead now resting on his wrist. He clears his throat slightly before starting, “It’s very nice, why are you giving it to me?” He doesn’t mean it as an insult he just assumes he must have done something to deserve it. “Oh, it’s okay if you don’t like it or want it” you wilt a bit at the idea that you were entirely wrong in thinking that it would cheer him up. “Oh no it’s quite lovely, really” he insists, you smile a little still not sure of his words “okay”

You’re pretty sure he took it off as soon as you turned around and had probably been haphazardly tossed somewhere in his quarters, if not directly in the trash 🗑️

you just don’t think he even likes the concept of it, let alone your tacky one

entirely incorrect in that thought process

logically explains it to anyone who asks about it: “My wearing it, assures the person who gave it to me of my affections for them” sounds cold, but he came up with an explanation, basically as good as married now.

would cut off his own ear before he would part with it

As you walk by you can hear things getting shoved around in Spock’s quarters. You run in assuming that some kind fight is going on. You’re both relieved and confused to find him alone, but still in an odd state of disarray. “Umm, are you alright?” You ask “It’s nothing, Y/N. I’ve just misplaced something” Spock informs you. Nothing my ass, you think to yourself “Are you sure? It’s kind of a mess in here” You point out “What have you lost?” You inquire. He turns green from his cheeks to his ears. “I seem to have.. erm… misplaced my bracelet” he murmurs the last part and your heart flutters at the thought that he cared enough to not only notice it was gone, but then also to tear apart his quarters looking for it. “Well when was the last time you had it?” You asked, knowing full well that he had probably already been through that thought process. “I was wearing it when I went to sleep last night” he admits sheepishly, “did you shake out your bedding?” You look over to see his bed stripped down “Yes, that was the first thing I did”. “What about under the bed?” You look back to him and he’s turned an even brighter green, “No, I hadn’t thought to do that yet” he reveals, “would you mind looking for me? You would fit better than I would” he requested. “Of course” you complied as you got down on the floor to look under the bed. “Bingo!” you exclaimed before sliding under the bed to reach it. When you stand up again he snatches it away and puts it back on before going to reorganise his room. You smile to yourself. He’d never be caught dead admitting it, but he nearly had a heart attack this morning when he realised it was missing.

sorry it might not be any good, hope you kinda like it anyway, thanks!

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Moving a person by their waist for Capt Pike?

When your shifts let off late, it's not surprising to arrive to a packed kitchen. Nearly everyone is settled with plates and chatting, save for Uhura, Spock, and Pike. That's not so surprising, either. You're almost certain that Uhura and Spock only just got off of shift as well—and Pike is nearly always the last to fill his plate.

With the wealth of distraction, you take a moment to just...Look. The captain looks as calm and in his element as he does when he's sitting in the captain's chair. Whatever joke Uhura makes has Spock's brow rising, and Pike's head tipping back with a laugh. The sight makes your stomach flutter.

"A-hem."

You jump at the sound of the clearing throat and glance around to find Chapel and Ortegas just a couple of feet away, watching you with mischievous smiles. Your face goes hot at being caught, but you force yourself to have a blank expression.

"See something you like?" Chapel asks.

"Something you'd like a bite of?" Ortegas adds. You scowl, mumbling, "Oh, shut up," As you hurry away, leaving their snickers behind. You skirt past Spock, murmuring a greeting as he heads for the table with a full plate. You take up one, scanning the dishes set out before reaching for a serving spoon.

"You took your time."

The comment catches you off-guard, and the serving spoon slips from your fingers. Your heart catches in your throat as Pike's hand shoots out, skimming your side and catching hold of it before it can hit the counter. You let out a shaky laugh as you take hold of the spoon again.

"I had a few logs to sign off on," You glance back toward him as he leans against the counter beside you. "Why aren't you eating yet?"

"I'm going to, I just got distracted in here."

"Get yourself something to eat, then," You wave toward the plates. "Don't make me sic Number One on you."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Don't tempt me."

You smile as he chuckles, straightening up with a murmur of concession. You return your gaze to the food, then go still as you feel Pike's hand smooth along your waist, gently steering you to the side. You swallow thickly, focusing steadfastly on the dishes.

"Everything here look as if it's to your liking?" He asks. Aw, hell. You can only imagine the knowing grins that Chapel and Ortegas must be giving you. You just nod, loosing a hum before you pass the spoon to him.

"Everything looks great—as always."

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (Book 3) Chapter Nineteen

TOS! Spock x Empath! Reader

Chapter Nineteen: Arrogant Lord

Summary: Spock, Kirk, and (Y/N) go to a hospital for the mentally ill but find that the patients have taken over.

            Captain’s Log: The Enterprise is orbiting Elba II, a planet with a poisonous atmosphere where the Federation maintains a psychiatric hospital for the few remaining criminally insane in the galaxy. We are bringing a revolutionary new medicine to them—a medicine which the Federation hopes will eliminate the more harmful mental illnesses that have never had treatment before. I am transporting down with Mr. Spock and Mx. (L/N), and we’re delivering the medicine to Dr. Donald Cory, the governor of the colony.

            The trio materialized in front of the government, and Kirk smiled, stepping out.

            “Donald, good to see you,” said Kirk, extending a hand.

            “Governor,” said Spock.

            (Y/N) smiled in greeting. Cory’s emotions were bright and nearly searingly warm. It was an almost aggressive positivity.

            “You don’t know what a treat this is for me,” said Cory. “It’s been too long since I’ve had company, Jim.” He clicked a button. “The force field’s bac in place now.” He smiled jovially. “That means you three are trapped here, and I’m not accepting any excuses for your not dining with me.”

            “We’d be delighted,” said Kirk.

            “Governor, you indicated one additional inmate since our last visit, making a total of fifteen,” said Spock formally. “Is that correct?” At the same time, he handed over a cannister.

            “It is,” said Cory, taking the cannister. “The rehabilitation program isn’t progressing too well, and I have my doubts about the effectiveness of this medicine, too.”

            “Why, Donald, are you becoming such a pessimist?” joked Kirk.

            Cory laughed, but something shot slightly through his emotions before the happiness, and (Y/N) blinked at the fluctuation before brushing it aside since it was common for emotions to shift like waves all the time.

            “I’m afraid I have,” said Cory.

            “A total of fifteen incurable out of billions is not what I would call an excessive figure,” said Spock.

            “Who is the new patient?” asked (Y/N).

            “Garth,” said Cory. He pressed a button, and a photo of a man in a dark uniform appeared on a screen. “Garth of Izar, a former starship captain.”

            “When I was a cadet, at the Academy, his exploits were required reading,” said Kirk.

            “I remember that, too,” agreed (Y/N).

            “He was one of my heroes,” murmured Kirk. “I’d like to see him, Donald.”

            “Of course,” said Cory. “Follow me.”

            He headed into the hall, and Kirk, Spock, and (Y/N) went with him. He took them into a protected hall and put up another force field after they passed through. As they drew closer to the rooms of the patients, (Y/N) frowned as erratic emotions of joy, anger, and sadness hit them. They kept changing, pricking at their skin aggressively, and (Y/N) rubbed their arms.

            “You’re making a mistake,” called a woman with green skin from within a cell.

            “Uh, these officers are pressed for the moment, Marta,” said Cory.

            “There’s nothing the matter with me,” insisted Marta, sighing dramatically. “Can’t you see just by looking at me? Can’t you tell just by listening? I’m rational.”

            “What is it you want to tell us?” asked Kirk.

            Marta glanced at Cory. “I can’t tell you in front of him.”

            “You’re afraid to talk in front of Governor Cory?” said Kirk in confusion.

            “He isn’t really Governor Cory,” whispered Marta. “That’s just it.”

            Cory just laughed, and (Y/N) was surprised that not a bit of him was worried about that statement or concerned about his patient at all. “She’s been saying that for several days now. Our medical staff can’t figure out why.” He turned away and continued on through the hall. They passed by a few men of different alien species, all staring at them silently as they passed. “Here’s Garth,” said Cory when they arrived at the final cell. “He’s been unusually disturbed, and we’ve had to impose additional restraint.”

            The trio peered in, and their eyes widened. The man inside the cell looked exactly like Governor Cory, except haggard and suspended near the wall.

            “Cory?” said Kirk in horror and confusion. (Y/N) took a step back from the Cory that had guided them there as his emotions turned to joy upon seeing the other Cory in pain.

            “Yes, Jim. I’m Cory,” said the poor man inside the cell. “He tricked you.”

            The other Cory laughed wildly, and his body morphed into that of Garth. He leaned behind himself and clicked a button on his controller. The force fields of all the other rooms opened, and the other patients came out to stand beside Garth.

            “You said you wanted to see me, Captain,” said Garth. He pulled out a phaser. “Well, here I am.” He fired his phaser twice, and (Y/N)’s consciousness left them.

l

            (Y/N)’s eyes opened to Spock kneeling beside them.

            “Are you alright, T’hy’la?” he asked as they sat up.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), nodding. “How much time is passed?”

            “A typical stun setting keeps people unconscious for half an hour,” said Spock.

            “Then whatever Garth wants with us, he’s probably started his plan,” said (Y/N), furrowing their brow. “It’s the Enterprise he wants, right?”

            Spock nodded. “He might have escaped his room and gained control of the station, but he cannot leave without a ship.”

            “Then he’s unlucky that he found us,” said (Y/N). “Kirk will never let him get to the Enterprise.”

            “You may say that now, but things can change,” said Garth, stepping in front of the room they were locked into.

            (Y/N) and Spock stood and faced him, remaining expressionless as they faced him.

            “Now, as I said earlier, you all are invited to dinner,” said Garth, smiling pleasantly but (Y/N) was all-too-aware of the aggression of all of his emotions. He was a threat for a reason.

            (Y/N) and Spock exchanged looks.

            “But I must insist that you come,” said Garth. He wasn’t given them a chance to argue.

            Marta stepped out beside him and held the phaser so that Spock and (Y/N) didn’t try to run. They were led back to where Kirk was held.

            “Why can’t I blow off just one of his ears?” said Marta.

            “Stop that, Marta,” said Garth. “Mr. Spock will think we’re lacking in hostility. And we don’t want to make a scene in front of Mx. (L/N), do we?”

            (Y/N) nearly sighed out loud but resigned themself to raising an eyebrow since they were not a fan of the emotions Garth had while looking at them.

            “Come, Captain, it is time for dinner,” said Garth.

            Kirk narrowed his eyes, but seeing his friends in danger meant that he had no choice. “How are you, Spock, (L/N)?” he asked.

            “Very well, indeed. Thank you, Captain,” said Spock tensely.

            “I’ve done better,” said (Y/N) with a bright smile.

            “Isn’t Governor Cory joining us?” asked Kirk, looking at Garth harshly.

            “No, the Governor doesn’t seem to be on the guest list,” said Garth.

            “An oversight?” said Kirk coldly, annoyed.

            “An intentional one,” said Garth. “Uh, the Governor’s fasting.”

            “In that case, we must decline with thanks,” said Kirk.

            Garth’s eyes narrowed, and his aggression grew into sharp anger.

            “Don’t be a fool, Jim,” called Cory. “Go along with him.”

            “Good advice, Governor,” said Garth. “Well, Captain? You’ll find we set a handsome table, and the entertainment is most enjoyable.” Garth smirked at Spock and (Y/N). “I hope everyone will find it enjoyable.”

            Kirk stared coldly. “You’re very persuasive,” he sat, tone flat.

            “Yes, I am. I certainly am,” said Garth.

l

            The patients of the hospital laughed as two did the wheelbarrow and ran across the floor in the center of the semicircle of tables. Kirk, Spock, and (Y/N) sat beside one another and had to watch as the patients all enjoyed themselves and got to flaunt that they had the power in the situation. On their part, (Y/N) wasn’t enjoying the violent changes in emotions the patients displayed, swerving for searing joy to stabbing anger at a moment’s notice.

            The performance ended, and Garth and Marta clapped. Garth kept staring at (Y/N), but they kept their gaze steadily on the “show” and the food in front of them since they didn’t need to see his eyes to know what he was feeling. Marta got up and ran over to their table. She leaned over in front of (Y/N) and held up a grape to them.

            (Y/N) could feel Marta’s jealousy and leaned back as Garth’s flared as well. They didn’t want any part of any relationship drama between Garth and Marta.

            “Get your hands off of (Y/N), you treacherous thing!” shouted Garth, and Spock reached for (Y/N)’s knee protectively as Garth’s anger flared.

            Marta cackled and ran back to Garth. “Jealous!” she cried, grinning wildly.

            Of both of us, which makes this so much more complicated and dangerous with a man like Garth, thought (Y/N), touching Spock’s hand in thanks for his support.

            “Nonsense! I am above such things!” declared Garth pompously. “The Lieutenant is annoyed by your attentions, that’s all.”

            Marta scoffed and draped herself over (Y/N). “Am I annoying you, darling?”

            “I don’t need anyone’s attention,” said (Y/N) curtly, pushing Marta back.

            Marta huffed and stepped back, and Garth sneered at her. (Y/N) suspected they were going to get a headache from all of the negative emotions vying for control.

            “Treacherous thing,” hissed Garth. “I could have you beaten death.”

            “No, you won’t!” chirped Marta, already in high spirits again. “Because I am the most beautiful woman on this planet!”

            “You’re the only woman on this planet, you stupid cow,” snapped Garth.

            “Well, I’m the most beautiful woman in this galaxy!” cried Marta.

            “You’re repulsive!” shouted Garth.

            Spock, Kirk, and (Y/N) looked at one another in exhaustion. Not only was (Y/N) getting flirted with (which was the norm but frustrating) but they were also dealing with people with no sense or logic in their actions. They acted purely out of emotion, and that was dangerous.

            “I’m beautiful!” declared Marta. “And I’m intelligent, too! I write poetry, and I paint marvelous pictures, and I am wonderful dancer!”

            “Lies! All lies!” said Garth. “You are the greatest liar I have ever met! Let me hear one poem you’ve written.”

            “If you like!” Marta took a position in the center of the room.

            As she walked, Spock spoke under his breath. “If there was a diversion, I might be able to find the control room and open the force field.”

            “All we need is a few seconds because Scotty has alerted the security detail,” murmured Kirk.

            “It wouldn’t be hard to get them fighting amongst themselves,” whispered (Y/N).

            “Officers! Courtesy for the performer,” said Garth, gesturing to Marta.

            Marta cleared her throat and began her poem. “Shall I compare thee to a summer day?”

            (Y/N) and Spock exchanged a judgmental-couple look. That was Shakespeare.

            “Thou art more lovely and more temperate,” said Marta. She narrowed her eyes and continued. “Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer’s lease hath all too—”

            “You wrote that?” said Garth harshly.

            “Yesterday, as a matter of fact,” said Marta, holding her chin high.

            “It was written by an Earthman named Shakespeare a long time ago,” snapped Garth.

            “Which does not alter the fact that I wrote it again yesterday!” shouted Marta in return. She turned towards the Starfleet officers and batted her eyelashes. “I think it’s one of my best poems, don’t you?”

            Upon seeing her make eye-contact with (Y/N), Garth narrowed his eyes. “I may kill you with my bare hands!” Marta squealed and jumped away from him. Garth cleared his throat and composed himself. He leaned on the table of Spock, (Y/N), and Kirk. “Actually, she is a superb dancer.” Seizing upon a chance to impress the group, he said, “Marta, won’t you dance for our guests?” He narrowed his eyes when she didn’t move. “That was not a request.”

            Marta stepped back into the center of the room, and music began to play, and Marta began to move to it expertly. She had masterful control of her body as she danced, and Garth carefully kept an eye on the reactions of the Starfleet officers to monitor whether or not they were enjoying.

            “Marvelous, isn’t she, Captain?” said Garth, proud to show off.

            We need to appease him, thought (Y/N).

            “Yes, uh…incredible,” said Kirk.

            “What is your reaction, Mr. Spock?” asked Garth.

            “I find it mildly interesting and somewhat nostalgic if I understand the use of that word,” said Spock. In fact, he would much prefer to see (Y/N) dance since Celians had traditional dances and he knew (Y/N) was quite talented.

            “ ‘Nostalgic?’ ” remarked Garth.

            “Yes. It is somewhat reminiscent of the dances that Vulcan children do in nursery school,” said Spock.

            “And you, Mx. (L/N)?” said Garth.

            “I agree with Spock, nostalgic,” said (Y/N), intentionally keeping their words neutral.

            “Ah, yes, Celians dance during celebrations,” said Garth. He gestured to the open floor. “Perhaps you’d like to give us a demonstration?”

            “I haven’t practiced,” said (Y/N) simply, a cold smile on their face.

            “I’m sure you’d be extraordinary nonetheless,” said Garth.

            “That’s flattering, but I still won’t be dancing,” said (Y/N). They weren’t being a show for Garth’s enjoyment.

            Garth gritted his teeth in frustration, but he was attempting to seem rational and civilized instead of temperamental, so he just turned back to Marta as she finished her routine and clapped.

            “You’ll find I am very magnanimous to my friends if they show they are my friends,” said Garth, prowling around the trio. He rested his hands on Kirk and (Y/N)’s shoulders. “But I am merciless to my enemies.” He chuckled. “But I want you three to be my friends!”

            Spock raised an eyebrow. “On what, precisely, is our friendship to be based?” Certainly not on you making my T’hy’la uncomfortable. That was unforgivable in Spock’s book.

            “Well, upon the firmest of foundations, Mr. Spock—enlightened self-interest,” said Garth.

            “Whose self-interest?” said (Y/N) pointedly.

            Garth chuckled. “Why, all of ours! For instance, Captain Kirk is second only to me as a military commander, but he could be so much more.”

            “I am an explorer,” said Kirk.

            “So was I,” said Garth. “I have charted more new worlds than any man in history.”

            “And tried to destroy Antos IV,” said Spock. “Why?”

            “Well, I could say because they were actively hostile to the Federation,” sighed Garth.

            “But that would be a lie,” said (Y/N) levelly.

            “Agreed,” chuckled Garth. “Actually, they were quite harmless, and they made me whole when I was maimed and dying. And in my gratitude, I offered them a galaxy. They rejected me, and I condemned them to death.”

            “How could you, a Starfleet captain, believe that a Federation crew would blindly obey your order to destroy the entire Antos race—a people famous for their benevolence and peaceful pursuits?” questioned Spock.

            “That was my only miscalculation,” said Garth bitterly. “I had changed. I had risen upon this decadent weakness which still has you in its command, by the way, Captain. My crew had not, and I couldn’t sway them. But my new crew—the men in this room—will obey my orders without question. My friends, you have eyes, and you cannot see. Galaxies surround us! Limitless vistas…and yet the Federation would have us grub away like some ants on some somewhat larger than usual anthill. But I am not an insect. I am master of the universe, and I must claim my domain.”

            “The Federation does not need militants,” said (Y/N). “We have peace missions, not battles.”

            “Peace missions,” sneered Garth. “Politicians and weaklings!”

            “Humanitarians and good people,” corrected (Y/N) firmly, refusing to cower to Garth’s red-hot anger. “And peace has won against war across the galaxy. It is not weak.”

            “Yes,” said Kirk, sitting straight beside (Y/N). “The dream of peace those ‘weaklings’ had spread across the stars and brought people like us together. (L/N) and I are friends, Spock and I brother, Spock and (L/N) close. Peace brought us that.”

            Garth narrowed his eyes and looked at the group united against him. “I can see Kirk and (L/N) feel strongly about the bonds between you all. Mr. Spock, do you consider Captain Kirk and yourself brothers? Are you and (L/N) close?”

            “Captain Kirk speaks figuratively and emotionally at times. However, what he says is logical, and I do, in fact, agree with it,” said Spock.

            (Y/N) smiled to themself.

            Garth laughed at the three before screaming, his emotions taking a sharp turn for the negative. “Blind! Truly blind! Captain Kirk is your commanding officer, and you are his subordinate, and (L/N) is just a colleague! That is all!” In his sad, lonely life, he refused to see that others had good, healthy, loving connections in their lives.

            Garth cleared his throat and continued. “(L/N), Mr. Spock, you are both talented and capable in your own rights. In my fleet, you will surely have a starship to command.”

            “Please forgive, but where, exactly, is your fleet?” said Spock curtly.

            “Out there—waiting for me,” said Garth. “They will flock to my cause, and for good reason.” He threw up a hand. “Limitless power, limitless wealth, and solar systems ruled by the elite! We are that elite, and we must take what is rightfully ours from the decadent weaklings that now hold it.”

            “Captain Garth,” said (Y/N).

            “Lord Garth,” he said harshly.

            (Y/N) just continued as if they hadn’t heard. “This attempt to take over the galaxy is just a copy of what you did before. That ended in disaster. This will, too.”

            “It will not!” cried Garth.

            “Logically, it is likely,” said Spock.

            “Remove them!” shouted Garth, erratic flashes of anger and sadness circling around him.

            Two patients grabbed Spock and (Y/N) and pulled them up from their chairs.

            (Y/N) just smiled at Garth. “The truth doesn’t bend to your will, ‘Lord’ Garth.” And then they were dragged from the room.

Taglist:

@a-ofzest

@grippleback-galaxy

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@neenieweenie

@keylimeconstellation

@wormwig

@technikerin23

@ilyatan

@nthdarkqueen

[crowzwrites]

A sight for sore eyes

for mcspirk month

ao3

content warning: None

@mcspirkevents

It's a sunny day on the planet they've beamed down to, Revena V, pretty turquoise skies and a rainbow arching across it. Kirk smiles at his first officer, who gives him an eyebrow raise in return, then looks back at his tricorder to analyze the data he's been collecting of fauna and small critters. He's glad to have peaceful moments like this on away missions where he can walk beside Spock, hands intertwined as they amble about. Their last mission had ended up in a battle and many injured crewmen, so thankfully they had been given some time to rest and explore more tranquil and serene planets in the latest system that had yet to be mapped on a star chart.

McCoy had opted to stay on the ship because last time he beamed down with them he'd fallen down a ditch and sprained his ankle. Jim tried not to laugh as he cursed everything around him when they were beaming back up—of course he was worried, but Bones was so grumpy and in the end it had been fine. They cuddled to make up for it, Jim taking in the sight of both his partners. Spock had made McCoy a hot chocolate and took care of him whilst

Jim got the man to be quiet and accept the care, at one point Jim considered giving Bones a taste of his own medicine, stabbing him with a hypo.

At least, when it’s just the two of them, there are no huffs and complaints about the mission to collect more data, just avid discussions about said data and observations about the pretty plant life.

“What do you think of this planet, Spock?”

“It is fascinating, I will have to take further samples of some of the fauna as they have intriguing properties that could be used in medicine. There are also many small animals that look interesting. This planet is very diverse in its plant and animal life.”

“I love visiting all these cool planets, better than being attacked by Klingons or whatever.”

“Certainly. I only wish that Doctor McCoy had joined us, even if he does tend to complain.” Spock smiles at him slightly.

“Yeah, but after the last mission he’s afraid he’ll get hurt and then he’ll have to get taken care of by us. He’s allergic to accepting help.”

“Indeed he is.”

Jim smiles and glances at Spock again, appreciating his side profile: curved pointy ears that he oh so loves to touch gently, hazel eyes that look at him with affection, silky black hair that sits perfectly on his head, and finally his nose. Jim enjoys booping it, which makes Spock blush. Jim's always been one to appreciate both of his lovers' features—McCoy especially, since he needs encouragement and positivity. He's a little more self conscious than Spock in that department. Of course, both of them have their flaws. So does he.

Jim looks back to his surroundings. He notices a flower that is almost the same height as him. It glows a warm yellow and has pink spots on its petals.

Without thinking, he stops and leans forward a little. Then he thinks, oh, shit. The flower spews spores at his face. He groans and staggers backwards. Spock catches and steadies him but he barely notices it because his eyes feel as if they are being set alight. Briefly, he thinks that McCoy is going to be very mad. He then passes out, distantly hearing Spock shouting his name as he succumbs to the darkness.

-

Slowly, hearing the steady beat of the heart monitor and vaguely feeling a warm hand enclosed in his own, he comes back to awareness. Jim opens his eyes. To nothing. To darkness, only making out blurry shapes. His heart rate skyrockets. He's panicking as the monitor beeps loudly, making his ears hurt. Why can't I see? Why can't I see, wh-

“It's okay, Jim,” says a voice he recognises to be Spock. “You are safe.”

Jim turns and can't make out Spock's face, only a blurry figure that's trying to comfort him and God, he can’t focus on that gentleness, only registers that he's blind. What if he never sees Spock or Bones’ face again? What if he'll never be able to look into both of their deep brown eyes and get lost in them? Oh, God. He'll lose his captaincy, lose Spock, lose Bones.

Jim.

Jim, breathe.

He does. Inhale. Exhale. Just like McCoy taught him when he had panic attacks at the Academy. Sound comes back to him. He didn't even realise his ears had been ringing. The overwhelming panic and fear had overtaken any rational thought. He sighs and turns his head in the direction that Spock’s voice had come from. Cold hands graze his face and rub a soothing motion down his cheek, another hand on his shoulder. It must be Bones, no doubt hovering over him like the mother hen he is.

“Spock…Bones...I-I can't see you.”

“Don't worry, kid, we'll find a cure to this, Spock and I. You know we'll try our hardest, darlin’. Just relax for me, okay? We've got you.” Bones’ voice relaxes him. Jim sinks back down into the biobed and grabs Spock's hand back for comfort.

“I miss seeing your faces…” he says quietly.

“Do not worry, Jim. We will find a cure, Ashaya.”

“Can you take me back to my room?”

Jim attempts to look at them both. Spock guides Jim's hand to his and McCoy’s faces. He feels Spock's pointy ears and brushes a hand through Bones’ soft hair, a mild comfort to him.

“Yeah, alright. No harm in that, just be careful, okay?”

“You know me, I'm always careful.” Jim laughs—he can hear Bones’ eyes roll and Spock's questioning eyebrow raise.

Slowly, he gets up (mostly) by himself, Spock's hand in his and Bones' arm around his elbow. He's glad they're here to help him through this ordeal. In the future, he'll make sure to steer clear of pretty glowing flowers on alien planets. His partners guide him back to his room at an even pace. It's odd not being able to see. Jim had taken that ability for granted and not appreciated the beauty of sight until it was ripped away from him. He's pretty confident that Spock and Bones will find a cure promptly, though, they've been through thick and thin, after all, and Bones is nothing short of a miracle worker by now. He’s an angel watching over Jim through life and death. He means that literally, now, since he'd been brought back to life by the doctor and all.

He hasn't really been paying attention and if they weren't here to help, he surely would have knocked himself out on a wall or something. He keeps his eyes closed, not wanting to see all the blurry figures and outlines that'll probably make him want to throw up. It's very disorienting. Spock squeezes his hand reassuringly. They've stopped walking now, so they must be at his room. Wordlessly, one of them enters his passcode, and then all of them step through. He's guided to his bed, which he's grateful for. All he wants to do is to sleep in his lovers’ arms and be reassured by their warm presences beside him.

“I love you both…thanks for helping me.”

“Of course, just promise me you’ll be more careful next time, sweetheart?” McCoy says gently, sparing him the angry lecture this time and instead putting a hand on his thigh.

“I'll try.”

They all know that it's unlikely that he won't land himself in danger. At least he has Spock to protect him and Bones to patch him back together again and again. Quickly, he rids himself of his shirt and trousers and then pulls them down to cuddle with him. Bones huffs but obliges him. Frankly, he doesn't care if it's the morning or afternoon, he just requires immediate snuggles before he rests. Jim moves to Spock's chest and puts his arms and leg around him, then hooks his other leg around Bones, who's hugging his waist. Neither of them care about the time, either. Even Spock allows Jim this comfort. His nose brushes against his Vulcan’s bare chest and finds himself drifting off quickly into dreams about stars and lovers.

-

After only three days of being sightless, during which his doctor and science officer work tirelessly, they finally find a cure. Jim has by then become more used to not being able to see, has learned to rely more on his hearing and special awareness, which he sorely lacks after crashing and tumbling over almost everything. Bones had berated him after finding him trying to get to the bridge but tripping over a crewman’s foot and faceplanting ungracefully. His nose thankfully stayed in one piece, but his body is probably littered with tiny bruises by now, if the doctor's lecture is anything to go by.

“I believe we have found a cure Jim, do not worry. The doctor and I will come to you. Stay put.” Spock’s voice chirped. He sounded tired.

“Hey! I'm not a child. I can handle myself, Commander,” Jim sasses, getting up and walking to the door.

Jim doesn't quite make it to the door. Instead he trips over his boots and almost slams into the wall by his door but catches himself, cursing out loud and hoping Spock hadn’t heard that. He had, though. Of course he had.

“Jim, please do not injure yourself further unless you want Leonard to lecture you again,” Spock chides. He mutters the word “illogical” under his breath.

Begrudgingly, he makes his way back to his bed and flops down on it. He hopes this’ll work. If it doesn't, he just might cry even if they eventually find one. It could take months or even years, or maybe he's just permanently blind, sight taken from him by some stupid flower on some dumb planet. If he didn't beam down to that planet and instead stared out into space or just wrote some boring reports, then maybe he wouldn't be stuck in misery. Well, it's not all bad. Still, Jim can't help but feel melancholy about losing such a core part of himself. He huffs and rolls over, and his door swishes open to allow his boyfriends to enter, ready to hopefully save the day.

“You ready, Jim?”

“Yep! Stick me, Bones.” McCoy sighs at that but jabs the hypo into his neck.

At first, he doesn't feel anything, but then his head starts to spin. He groans, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching at his head. For a minute, it's agony. Spock is gripping his shoulders and trying to ease the pain through touch while McCoy worriedly dotes over him and does something or other. The nausea and pain fade to an ache behind his eyes and he peeks an eye open. He's met with a slightly less fuzzy Spock leaning over him.

The scared expression in his chocolate brown eyes comes into focus, and then Jim breaks out into a wide grin and hugs Spock tightly. He gestures for Bones to join and he does. Jim feels happy again. His vision is almost back to normal, and he can see both of them again. They look tired but relieved, and he pulls away to admire them. He loves Bones’ light-hearted scowl, the freckles dotting his face, his pouty lips and smooth hair. Jim kisses Spock and it’s electric. His relief and affection trickle through to the Vulcan as they passionately embrace. Without wasting any time, he breaks apart to kiss Bones, who gasps in surprise but leans into it. Bones puts a hand in his hair, making him groan, and then Jim leans back to appreciate his gorgeous face.

“You okay, Jim?” Bones looks at him worriedly and Jim realises he's crying.

“I'm okay.” He smiles and puts his head on Spock’s shoulder.

Spock had moved to sit on his bed next to him while Bones was kneeling in front of him.

“I am glad the serum worked…I do not know what I would've done if it hadn't,” Spock says quietly.

“You'd do what you always do. Try and try again. That's why I love you, both of you.”

“Love ya too, kid,” says Bones, as Spock says, “Taluhk nash-veh k’dular,” then Bones stands up and leans over Jim. Gently, he wipes away the tears running from his eyes, like rain on a sunny day that blooms into a rainbow. He feels good and lucky to have both of them to take care of him.

Jim knows they'll always take care of him when he dives headfirst into danger, or gets blinded by some flower, or whatever it may be. At least he can laugh it off now.

[female-fogbank]

Made for @spirkme915 who asked for Spirk, I chose SNW hurt/comfort, I hope you like it 🙌

Thank you @startrekwintergiftexchange for organising this event💜

~ Secret Beginnings ~

The first time they met was years before they met on the Enterprise. It was a meeting neither would forget nor even in their weakest moments mention to another soul. It was the first of many secrets they would bond on and share to their graves. Underground fights were in the Federation’s top 5 of unapproved pass times.

Starfleet officers were supposed to behave accordingly and maintain the image of civility. The fights that occurred deep in the belly of certain starbases did not allow for any of that. It was dirty, brutal, bloody, almost animalistic, no bars fighting. If anyone knew Spock or Kirk had met in the ring, or that they had been engaging in said activities, their careers would go up in flames.

Maybe that was part of the appeal. For Spock, it had been an outlet for the deep seated rage inside that threatened to consume. He knew engaging in underground fighting was illegal and could lead to his expulsion from Starfleet but he couldn’t stop. 

It was cathartic, he spent most of his youth and adolescence suppressing his emotions, pushing all the pain, frustration, anger and anguish of being a hybrid in a society that idolized emotional disassociation and stoicism. The expectations placed on him by his father, to act and be a certain way. He couldn’t be like the other Vulcan children, he always had to be better. The bar to achieving excellence was forever moving and always out of his grasp. 

So, when he stepped into that ring, he could pour all those emotions out. No one judged him for it, no one thought less of him. They were all there for similar reasons.

Kirk fought because he was numb, no one would know it looking at him. No, he was the poster boy for the man with the perfect life. All the emotions he should be capable of feeling felt out of reach. It was almost like he existed inside his own shield. But when he stepped into that cage to fight, he could feel. He felt pain, with pain came adrenaline and euphoria. He felt the satisfaction of winning, the enjoyment in the camaraderie shared with the other fighters as they gave and took. Maybe their reasons were different but they came for the same reason, catharsis. 

It was their dirty little secret, their form of therapy and it worked. Spock felt the rage in him become easier to control. He found he could reconcile the past as he was no longer trapped in emotions that held him trapped in those moments. There was a clarity after one was temporarily purged of their inner demons. 

The people he fought with all taught him something about himself. Whether it was in the ring, or after the fight when they patched up their wounds and cleaned up the blood. Spock felt himself gravitate towards Kirk most out of all the fighters. Unlike the other humans who fought, he wasn’t fighting to pay off some debt or a sadist. There was something different about him, when one is stripped down, bloodied and bruised, in the quiet moments of being healed, people talked. They let their guard down and shared their pain and in Kirk’s case lack thereof. 

Spock didn’t miss the irony of their odd friendship borne in the bowels of that starbase. The Vulcan who felt too much and the human who struggled to feel. But there they were, learning from one another. Leaning on each other at times, baring their souls of their darkest secrets with full knowledge they were safe. That no judgement would be passed, no pity nor advice on how ‘fix’ themselves. They accepted each other for their flaws which was something very rare to find in their normal lives.

The only sad fact of it all was when they got cleaned up, donned their Starfleet uniforms and returned to their ships, they had to pretend none of it existed. That no history had passed between them. To acknowledge it, would bring them under the scrutiny of their leaders. Questions they didn’t want would be asked, neither wanted that to happen. Neither wanted to explain themselves or justify their actions in this regard.

So, when Spock ‘officially’ met James T. Kirk for the first time. Their eyes locked, a moment of recognition passed between them. No one would ever know by looking at them that they already had a long history. But after the moment they exchanged pleasantries, their relationship could finally see the light of day.

[hummingbird-of-light]

In Our Favor

Part 285

McCoy

Scotty had left early to meet Aporal, so McCoy walked alone to the dining hall. He hoped his husband and the Andorian would make time for breakfast before class. And if not he’d see them at lunch.

Sulu was sitting at their normal table and McCoy greeted him as he sat down to eat.

“Any more tournaments coming up?” McCoy asked as he picked up and sipped his coffee.

“Next month,” Sulu grinned with excitement. “Hope you can come in person this time.”

“I’m sure we will.”

Spock joined them next and McCoy’s brows furrowed as he looked for Jim.

“No Jim?” he asked after saying hello.

“Jim chose to get some exercise this morning and went for a run,” Spock answered. Only someone who had known the Vulcan as long as he had would have noticed the hesitance with which he spoke. McCoy wondered what was wrong with Jim.

“If he went for a run he should make sure to eat something after,” Sulu said. “I don’t want to listen to his stomach grumbling in class.”

“Just Leonard!”

McCoy turned at Jaylah’s excited voice.

“Did you see?” she demanded as she sat down next to him.

“See what?” he frowned.

“Do you not check your messages?” she said unbelievably. “Lt. Flores says we are to have class in one of the hangar bays today! We’ll be hands on with real shuttles!” Jaylah’s eyes danced with delight.

An emptiness seemed to have replaced McCoy’s insides and he stared back at her blankly.

“We’re what?” he managed to get out in almost a normal voice.

“Oh!” Jaylah seemed to realize as she glanced at Sulu and Spock. “It will be fine! We’ll probably just go over differences between types of shuttles. Or maintenance! Maybe that!” she said hurriedly. “Knowing how to fix things or where to find them is important too.”

McCoy nodded and took another bite. It had no taste. His heart was beginning to pound in his chest. Why was this different? He had flown in plenty of shuttles in his life and though it had only begun to be easier with Scotty at his side, he’d still been in them before.

“You alright Leonard?” Sulu asked.

“Hmm? Yeah,” McCoy said quickly but absently.

The simulator was one thing. A crash there harmed no one. But a real shuttle… a shiver went down McCoy’s spine. A real shuttle could really crash, could really injure someone or even— McCoy couldn’t keep the thought away— or even kill someone.

He deep in a sharp breath and pressed his lips tight together. They weren’t ready for real shuttles! Maybe Jaylah was right and it would be just looking them over. Or learning where things were to be fixed if necessary.

McCoy startled as a familiar hand touched his shoulder. He looked up and saw Scotty. His husband must have seen something in McCoy’s face because he hurried to sit down and be close to McCoy’s side.

“What is it, love?” he asked quietly as Sulu and Spock continued to talk with Jaylah.

McCoy reached into his pocket and slipped out his comm. He did have a message from Lt. Flores about the changed location for their class. He opened it and passed the device to Scotty.

“Ooo,” Scotty said. “Oh,” he said quickly after and pressed his leg against McCoy’s. “It’ll be alright mo ghràdh. He wouldn’t put ye in to fly them yet! Ye’ll just go over where everything is! After all, a simulator control board isn’t a whole shuttle.” Scotty tried to sound positive, but McCoy could hear his worry as well.

McCoy took a slow breath. Scotty was right. No one would send green cadets like them to fly a real shuttle yet. Would they?

No. No not yet. That’d be ridiculous. Yet, McCoy couldn’t let the idea go.

Part 286

Scotty

Scotty could tell very well just how worried his husband was about the message he had received from Lt. Flores. They would quite probably need to have a long chat in the evening about how the class had been.

A conflicted frown crossed the Scotsman's face as he thought about Jim and his worries. In the end, Scotty was unable to divide himself, therefore he couldn't spend comfort to Leonard and Jim at the same time.

Well... then again, he was quite sure that Leonard would calm down a wee bit if it was really just the students looking at real shuttles. Lt. Flores wouldn't make them fly one yet, that was out of question. So Scotty could meet up with Jim first after dinner and after that he could take care of his love.

"And so you need to calculate these variables and..."

Scotty's mind was drifting off as the professor talked in front of the class. Too many thoughts filled his mind.

He was very concerned about Jim. His friend had looked miserable in the morning. Whatever had been written in Sam's letter had upset the lad quite a lot. And Scotty wasn't sure if he could help too much. Jim and him were great friends, but talking about feelings and stuff like that had always been kinda hard for them. But Scotty would try his best to spend Jim comfort. After all, they were both grown men now and that meant that they could have deeper talks.

He was also still concerned about Leonard. Even if he wouldn't have to fly a real shuttle, the thought of being so close to one and imagining sitting in the pilot chair and navigating it through space could be enough to drive Leonard very anxious. And then he might lose it. Which wouldn't be good in front of the other students. And then –

"Mr. Scott-McCoy, are you listening?"

Scotty winced when he heard the professor's voice. Other cadets chuckled and he quickly blushed.

"I-I'm sorry, ma'am. I got a wee bit distracted. I'll focus now," he apologized and the professor gave him a stern nod.

"Good. Maybe you could explain the next equation to your fellow cadets?"

Scotty's eyes moved onto his PADD where named equation appeared and after a short moment of scanning it, he smiled softly and nodded.

"Aye, I can."

He started to talk about the numbers and what they meant for the students and he was very glad that this time he wasn't punished too hard for his actions. He could very well do without having to give another lecture or presentation!

"Something wrong, Scottish boy?" Aporal asked him when they left the classroom and Scotty sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It's... complicated," he answered and the Andorian raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? There are problems too complicated for the great Montgomery Scott? I thought you wanted to become the best engineer in the fleet."

Scotty just rolled his eyes.

"It's no problem related to our studies. It's... a problem concerning people I love."

"Oh, I see. Well... I guess you'll be able to solve it quite quickly. You're good at that sentimental stuff."

Scotty couldn't help but smile. He had helped Aporal often enough. So this time everything would end up well too for sure.

[lenievi]

12 Days of Spones - Day 1 - beginnings

Firsts

The first time McCoy met Spock, he barely remembered him. McCoy stepped down from the transporter pad, and Jim took him by his arm, leading him away to show him the ship, waving his hand at the other officer in the room with a quick “This is Mister Spock.”

The first time McCoy said anything to Spock was a week later. He asked him to pass the salt.

The first time they argued was about McCoy's apparent excessive emotional reaction to a roasted goose they got served during the shore leave on Starbase Four. When McCoy pointed out that Jim was excited about the dish too, Spock looked at them with something akin to disgust and said he’d never understand the human fondness for something as necessary for survival as food.

The first time Spock visited McCoy’s quarters, he stated that the lack of decor showed a lack of personality. McCoy demanded to see Spock’s quarters in return and was left speechless by the ostentatious red curtains and abundant decorations including a huge ax. He’d like to talk to the one who spread that Vulcan decor was spartan.

The first time Spock was injured, McCoy shouted at him for stupidly endangering his life while being selfishly pleased that Spock would step in front of someone else’s fist originally aimed at McCoy’s face.

The first time they got stuck on a planet was also the first time McCoy envied Vulcans their ability to regulate body temperature. It was the first time they shared body heat.

The first time McCoy offered Spock alcohol, Spock refused.

The first time Spock accepted McCoy’s offer for a drink, McCoy couldn't believe his ears. Spock told him it was expected since his hearing was inferior, and he was getting old.

The first time they kissed, it was a surprise to both of them. They avoided each other for nine days.

The first time Spock went missing, Jim had to relieve him from duty and restrict him to his quarters. Later, McCoy wondered why did he think Jim wouldn’t do everything he could to bring Spock back.

The first time they had sex was after McCoy had almost died. Spock avoided him for three weeks.

The first time they had sex, McCoy woke up alone. It was the first time he realized that his feelings for Spock might be more serious than he thought.

The first time Spock spent the night was a year and a half later. He kissed McCoy good morning and told him he’d give him a blade he could put on his bare walls. McCoy didn’t talk to him for a day.

The first time McCoy decorated his quarters with a blade from Spock was after he’d learned it was an ancient symbol of the beginning of courtship.

When Spock saw the blade above the bed, his lips softened into a smile. He cupped McCoy’s face, and kissed him.

It was the first time both of them were sure of the other’s feelings.

[a-sh0t-in-the-dark]

10:00 AM

'Zod'

Nothing was out of place though something was playing on the T.V: "You just sold your soul to the Devil {Himura}" - Samurai X - Episode 25. ⏩ "All the pieces are in place. Relax." Hades - Kingdom Hearts. 📺 A segment of a child playing against a robot in chess at the Moscow Open followed right after. "...There was a light peeking through the door this time." 10:04 I muzzled pea with my palm and planned on how i'd make it to the mansion. 📳..a text from Amber. A picture of her at the hospital: her hair was shorter; "Just leaving, how long has it been? You know....wait. Yes, haha! I see; print $v9886 ^.^ $v9887????" "Ah...stage three.." I sent her a picture of Pea with her bell chime as a figure made its way out of Matt's bedroom. ("Holy") I screamed internally; it was Matt. "Hey" he paused for a brief moment; "..did you clean my room?" "Not today..I don't think. {Wait..no....}up for a game?" I handed him a cigarette as i'd gotten up. "Just testing you. Sure." "I want to be a knight." Badger - Breaking Bad{Negro y Azul} Almost instinctively, I positioned my left knight in front of my King. "Been gone for a few days." He mirrored my move; "Had to "wrap my head" around the scenario we're in.." I said nothing and continued fortifying my defense. "Came up with a solution though." He opened a clear lane for his queen to take a free knight. "Oh.." I backed the knight with a pawn. "Forgive me, Mr. Spock..I should have known better." Star Trek - 'The Squire of Gothos' Timestamp {49:00 - 49:06} "I got an invitation to some kind of dinner at that mansion a few miles down Star Desert Ave; I showed him the crumpled piece of paper. "...dine with the White Queen and me?" He looked at the position of the pieces on the board. Silence. For a reason I can't explain, he appeared nervous. A bead of sweat rolled off of his temple and followed the structure of his face, then disappeared as though it never were. "..." I wanted to say something, but his gaze suddenly met mine; The mirror shattered. 10:28 After awakening from my brief daydream of being a prisoner behind a compromised looking glass; "A would be God (in dungarees) strangled by an illusion. That will of the wisp mirage..." 📺 Twilight Zone - 'The Mirror' Timestamp {23:51 - 23:57} I looked at the board: "I castled?"

"That's a first.." said Matt. "...." Another text from Amber. He looked at the chessboard, as did I.

"A dance as old as time itself, you; the wily old king. (And) I, the slender young knight." - Code Monkeys - "Just One of The Gamers'

Adam: "Want to call it a draw?"

Matt: "I have one less rook."

Adam: "I castled."

10:36

I crunched two aspirin pills and rolled a small heap [of] shredded [leaves] into the dust mound before rolling it into a cone. We just sat there and smoked as a segment of [House] played on the TV. "So..you and Mei have a thing?" I randomly stuttered. Before he could answer, I said: "It's cool、it's cool; heh...I had to fetch Pea and it...uh...it just became apparent heheh." "Nah..one time thing." I tried passing the cone but he emanated disdain. I took another puff and started playing Superman 64. He notioned for the cone; I obliged.

"...gonna be honest, I don't even think it's on. I went a mile up the road to the pharmacy and no shock, no beeping; Ms. Pratt would've been at my door by now but, nothing." "So you're gonna go?" "Worst case scenario..first violation? Wanna come with?" "Sounds like a personal matter." "Could be my P.O setting me up, I could use the leverage..." Before I could contemplate any further, he rejected. I was too high to induce persuasion; the elephant in the room dwarved as the smoke accumulated. I think Pea could see it too. "What happened here?" Matthew was in the exit hallway; I didn't even know he'd gotten up. I met him in the hallway; The mirror was cracked in several points. "......." I cut my finger attempting the trace one of the fractures. "First the window, now this; no clue what happened." There was no glass on the floor, nor was there anything in front of the closet to indicate something was thrown at it. "There's another one in the closet I could hang so.." "Has a cool aesthetic." he interjected. "How so?" "Seven large shards.." he stood in front of the mirror. "Almost like looking at seven different versions of yourself." "I don't follow.." I applied pressure to my finger. "I dunno..could be overthinking it. But the pieces are just about evenly sized. Almost as if it were hit in dead center. Just looks cool, nothing to dissect from my statement, heh." "Huh.." "Well, gonna go pick my car up from Zens; later." "Ah..uh....leave the door cracked." An attempt at a joke, either it wasn't funny or he didn't get it; the door lay slightly ajar.

I looked in the mirror for a little while. "All there." My brown hair had grown shaggy over the weeks, slightly covering my brow. I could count three cigarette burn holes on my shirt. I still had my non prescription glasses on from the other night. The glare from the lens made my eyes appear a lighter shade of green. They're contacts. The image before me wasn't the real me; a doppelganger. I moved in closer, paying attention to each reflection as I turned my ear to the glass. I heard nothing, so I knocked. Still nothing. I made sure that my heart was still beating; "..yup, all there." I didn't have time to contemplate on what Matt had said; "Oh right, Amber..." I checked my phone: "empty subject".

I removed my glasses after sliding my phone back into my pocket and gave the mirror one last look. My reflection cracked a smile at the same moment as I, before turning his back, making way into the kitchen; my.

[getaway-gatsby]

A Spot of Bother - 3/6

Originally posted on AO3 as getaway-gatsby

All too soon, it was time to start your day's work. Leaving Chekov to his second plate of pancakes – his own, this time – you and Sulu made your way to the bridge. As you stepped off the turbolift, you realised just how hard this shift would be, the sheer intensity of the lights increasing your headache threefold. Instinctively, you placed your hand over your eyes to block the glare. Sulu went to speak, looking concerned, but you got there first.

“Say how awful I look one more time and I’ll make it my personal mission to find and break every one of your katanas.”

Unsure as to whether you were joking, he kept quiet as you took your respective positions at the front console – Sulu as helmsman and you as navigator. You thought you’d be relieved by his silence. However, he now found a new way to irritate you, shooting you constant sideways glances as if he expected you to keel over at any second. The way you felt, you weren’t ruling it out, but all the same, you could do without Sulu’s trepidatious looks. At least everyone else on the bridge was too absorbed in their work to notice your discomfort.

Almost everyone, anyway.

“Are you all right, Lieutenant Y/L/N?” The voice made you jump, and you whirled around to see the captain standing beside you. “You look a little under the weather.”

Behind Kirk’s back, Sulu gave a self-satisfied nod. There was no doubting its meaning – I told you so. You pulled a face in return before answering the captain.

“Absolutely fine, sir. Just tired.” A sudden thought struck you and you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. “Oh my god, did Bones ask you to check up on me?”

Unabashed, Kirk chuckled. “Guilty as charged. You know him too well.” His tone turned serious for a moment. “He’s got a point though. That dart could have caused all kinds of trouble. If you do start feeling ill, tell me. I'll send you down to the med bay.”

“Thank you, sir. I will." You were lying. There was nothing on God’s green Earth that could convince you to go to the infirmary.

Unfortunately for you, however, you weren’t actually on Earth. It was, perhaps, unsurprising then that only two hours of your shift had passed before you were reconsidering your aversion to the med bay. The constant hustle and bustle of the bridge was grating on your last nerve. Every order issued, every bleep of the scanners, even the melodic lilt of Uhura speaking her umpteen languages; it all felt like nails being driven deep into your skull.

This was far from your only complaint. If you had thought you felt unwell that morning, that was nothing compared to how you felt now. As the minutes passed, you could practically feel your temperature rising, your hair sticking uncomfortably to your clammy forehead. Worse still was the wavering vision that exacerbated your already potent nausea. In short, it was becoming increasingly harder to dismiss this as a trivial ailment. Your mind kept circling back to Kirk’s earlier comment: "that dart could have caused all kinds of trouble." Perhaps you had been hasty to dismiss the CMO's concerns. Maybe you should go back to the med bay after all.

In the end, a particularly acute wave of nausea made the decision for you. Hell, you’d rather withstand the CMO’s scolding than vomit in front of your colleagues. Besides, if you threw up on the ship's controls, Scotty would kill you.

You turned around, opening your mouth to attract Kirk’s attention. However, you were beaten to it by the urgent tones of the First Officer.

"Captain, the scanners are showing a Klingon vessel heading towards us at warp speed 6. I suggest we go to battle stations, now."

As Spock spoke, your window of opportunity slammed shut. Kirk’s attention was now focused wholly on the Klingon threat. Turning back to your console to prepare for the impending attack, you felt a sudden moisture on your upper lip. When you raised your hand to investigate, it came back bloody. Unbelievably, your body had chosen now as the ideal time for another nosebleed.

It was official, you decided. The universe hated you.

But not as much as Bones would hate you when he found out you'd lied to him.

[mystery-star]

Of Trifles and Truffles – Spock

Pairing: Spock x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: mentions of (past) negative thinking/overthinking

Words: 930

Star Trek universe: Any

-

Oh how you sometimes wished to be able to suppress your emotions or govern your mind as your husband could. It annoyed you that just a bad day or bad thoughts could upset you so much and of course, the thoughts wouldn’t leave making everything worse as you thought of it. Of course you could talk to others about it but they would recommend you just that; to not think of it. With a groan you closed the book on your PADD and connected the device to your wall screen to watch a movie instead. Your comfort movie. It was still on when you heard the door open and your husband entered. He threw a look at the screen and - much unlike usually - he put his bag on the table and sat down next to you.

“Might I inquire what is bothering you?”

“How did you…?” you sighed and couldn’t help a smile “Probably you already calculated how many percent of the time I watched this movie I was sad”

“In the previous three months you have watched this movie seven times while I was around. Five out of these times you have used it as distraction from something negative”

“My husband, the new Sherlock Holmes…” you even chuckle “Bet you regret telling me that you’re related to the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle”

“Regret is illogical” he said getting up. You wanted to ask what he had but he now put his bag away and shortly after returned with a small plate of your favorite chocolates.

“Oh” you just said as you took the first one with a smile before focusing on the movie again. Somehow you were a little surprised that Spock remained seated next to you to be with you but it was no surprise that he was working something on his PADD in passing. When the end credits were rolling, he put the device away, threw a glance to your remaining two chocolates and then faced you.

“Do you wish to talk?” you gave a shrug

“It’s not that something happened. Just some negative, emotional thoughts after a not so great day again. Some colleagues at work have been assholes. So, when I couldn’t really focus on reading anymore I watched the movie and it was the first that came to my mind”

“Is there something I can do to help you or do you prefer to not think about the matter further so the thoughts you have mentioned will not return?”

“Err, I don’t really know. It’s not like you could actually do something to help. Besides listening and not making mean or futile comments of course. Maybe just talking would help to get it off my chest. I don’t know” you gave another shrug, helping yourself to another chocolate. “You know, it probably just were trifles if a good movie and some chocolate can make me forget it. If I’m honest I don’t even remember what it was all about” Spock raised an eyebrow and leant closer, pecking your brow.

“Then I suppose it is imperative that I keep you distracted so such thoughts will not occur again”

“Hm yeah” you just agreed, wanting to lean against him but once again he had gotten up, almost making you lose balance.

“Very well then. I thought we could cook together before you find another movie that you find more interesting to watch than spending the evening with me”

“Oh ha ha” you muttered throwing a glance at him as he left for the kitchen and you threw the last piece of chocolate after him. Although you missed he still turned around and gave you the Vulcan version of an ‘are-you-serious?’-look before picking the food up and carrying it to the kitchen. You got up and saw how he wanted to trash it “No that’s mine!” you exclaimed, hurrying over to snatch it out of his hand and putting it in your mouth.

“When you have thrown it I suggested you did not want to eat it anymore”

“Never said that. Just wanted to throw it at you for your comment”

“It appears you did not achieve this since you missed” now it was your time to raise eyebrows

“How about I throw something else at you? How about a loaf of bread? Will be harder to miss you with this” you were walking to the counter to get the bread from the box when you felt his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you back.

“I would rather me made up” you let out a giggle

“And I’d rather we made out”

“One thing does not rule out the other. However,” he pecked your cheek “I suppose the most logical course of action is that we both apologize, prepare the evening meal together and then engage in what you have suggested”

“Hm” you said, pretending to ponder over it as if it was a hard choice “I didn’t actually hit you. Do I really have to say I’m sorry? Technically nothing happened” you said in a teasing tone.

“There are other apologies than words” he hadn’t even completely finished the last word when you whipped around, grabbed the back of his head and smashed your lips to his, getting more demanding when he started to kiss back. “Apology accepted” he said quietly before kissing you again, this time gentler “Am I right to assume you consider this an apology too?”

“Good question… it was kinda short and surprising, you know?” you said, tapping your chin “Kiss me again and let me decide then…”

[klariwitch]

waking up to the strident fluorescent lights of a hospital is far too familiar to jim kirk. by heart, he knows the arrangement in which his senses kick in: first it’s supposed to be his hearing, however right now his brain seems to have that blocked off. next is smell, and that is for sure is in working order. the potent scent of antiseptic strains the veins in his nostrils, feeling as though it’s raping his nasal cavity with bleach. next, you’ve got taste, which is always one of the worst when waking up, it’s sour and reeks of days old unbrushed teeth. Who knows how long he’s been laying here with plaque building up. his full sense of sight and hearing come in roughly around the same time; for one he can clearly hear all the buzzing and beeping of the iv machine he’s hooked up to, the sound of his heartbeat steady, making itself more lively and known as he wakes up. his eyes flutter open at the same time he hears a soft, but rather rough voice say, “good morning, sunshine” and as his eyes adjusts he can see bones checking the liquid in his iv bag.

the room is completely different from the usual medbay. for one, it’s bigger. from the length at which he can turn his head—which really isn’t much—he can make out a much wider, less cluttered space. it’s almost cozy if it didn’t pair so well with the immense headache that he had woke up with. needless to say, it was clear they weren’t on the enterprise.

jim opens his mouth to talk but nothing comes out, his throat too dry. mostly, he just said and made zombie-like noises at his friend till he took a hint, and with a lifted eyebrow gathered a glass of room temperature water to his mouth. the glass is tipped gently at an angle. jim moved his hands up around the glass once he’s able, but they both know after being unconscious for who knows how long that he doesn’t have the immediate strength to hold it up on his own.

bones takes the glass away when he seems to have gotten enough. then he crosses his arms over his chest, brow raised and asks a simple, “you were saying?”

“how, uh, how long have i been here? where is here? and what exactly happened? and where’s spock?” jim seems a bit more frantic with every question he asks, he craned his neck and his shoulders in a weak, upwards motion, eventually propping himself up on his elbows. his doctor sighs.

bones pulled over a chair and sat. he put a hand on jim’s arm and gives him a soft, though tired, look. “don’t worry, darlin’ you haven’t been here long. it’s been two days—or about two and a half if you’re counting to the exact time like the green hobgoblin has,” bones looks a little annoyed at the mention of spock but continues, “we’re in san francisco, it was easier to get you to a nearby hospital rather than back on the ship. you passed out at starfleet board meeting discussing a far out earth colony that has been set for a rescue mission.” leonard looked a little cautious, as if he were strategically making note of where exactly to place his words in a less intimidating order.

jim’s heart raced a tad faster with every moment of silence bones refused to fill in. “yeah?” he couldn’t help but let a little fear seep out with his words, staring at bones a little knowingly. “yeah so what, a rescue mission? that’s nothing i can’t handle. i’m sure my blood sugar was too low or there was something in the air or food that i was allergic to, right? and that’s why i passed out?” jim proceeded his own diagnosis like a short circuit. he didn’t really know what he was saying and he was falling into autopilot, but he needed confirmation still. “right, bones?”

leonard shook his head and let out a stifled sigh. he wanted to drag out the unknowing as long as he was able to, not for suspense but simply because he hated seeing his best friend so hurt. he always got a cloudy look in his eye at the mention of it. it was as if a part of jim died and remained on the ghost colony with all the other souls—and in some ways this was true. “jim, you lost conciseness at the mention of the planet’s similarity to that of tarsus iv,” bones finally spat out. jim stiffened

read the rest on ao3

[muchadoaboutstartrek]

I promised you guys a longer fic when I posted a picture of La'an cuddling with her dog and I am here to deliver now. Hope you like it.

He was tired.

That was everything Spock felt at that moment.

It wasn't like he could admit it, really, to anyone. Even admitting it to himslef was a challenge, the mind was supposed to overrule the body and make him less susceptible to human feelings such as fatigue, but Spock just had no energy to lie to himself.

His feet dragged against the metal floor, the exhaustion making him almost trip as the tip of his boot caught onto a slight irregularity at the floor. He straightened up, now slightly more awake, greatful the hallway was empty so no one was around to see his misstep. Litteraly.  He lengthened his stride, itching to get to his quarters and crawl into the bed with La'an, while making a mental checknote to order a repair of the crooked floor. Someone could get seriously injured on that.

He let out a sigh of relief when he reached his room, his fingers tapping in the code quickly, the slightly raised temperature from his quarters hitting him as the doors opened.

He expected to see La'an waiting for him, reading her reports or watching something on her PADD but was instead greeted by almost complete darkness, the only light in quarters belonging to flashes of the stars they were  passing. Remembering she has not been sleeping well these past few days, Spock made a logical conclusion she succumbed to her fatigue, slight shuffle from the bed confirming his theory.

He ordered lights at 20% quietly, careful not to wake her, and removed his uniform shirt, tossing it over the chair so it doesn't  wrinkle. He toed off his boots and reached for his pants when he looked towards the bed and promptly froze in place.

La'an was sprawled over the horizontal line of their bed, dressed in her comfortable clothes and clean hair tied into a ponytail. Her arms were wrapped around his pillow with her head burried in the pillowcase. He took notice how the color of her skin contrasted nicely against the sheets that matched the color of sand on Vulcan. Her breathing pattern was even, proof she has been asleep for considerable ammount of time. Her PADD was still on the bed, the light at the corner flashing, which indicated she probably fell asleep while reading a report.

Moved by the adorable sight, his clothes forgotten, he moved silently across the quarters towards his PADD and took a picture of her. He smirked as he looked at it for a second, admiring it, before storing it in a secure file, the one only he had access to. He lowered the PADD gently onto the table after setting an alarm for the next shift before getting rid of his trousers and reaching for his sweatpants. He made a quick trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth before heading towards the bed.

La'an was settled above the covers so Spock dug out two blankets from his closet and covered her with one, his own tucked into the crook of his elbow as he took her PADD and set it on the nightstand. He crawled across the bed, careful not to jostle it too much as he grabbed her pillow, as his was occupied, and tossed a blanket over himself. The bed was not nearly as wide as it was long, so the position was not the most comfortable for his 6'2" frame but as he took notice of La'an's peaceful face, he reached conclusion he would rather stay up one more night and  endure being uncomfortable if it meant she would sleep through it.

He reached out to her face, removing a strand of her hair from her forehead as she shifted slightly, mumbling something about strawberries and shuffled closer to him, her body reacting to a natural heat source. Her eyelashes fluttered as her eyes cracked open and Spock withdrawed his hand in hope she will resume her sleep. Her breath hitched slightly and Spock watched as her confused eyes ran over the room before they locked onto him and a smile rose on her lips.

"I apologize for awakening you. That was not my intention." He whispered, not wanting to disturb the silence too much.

La'an 'mhm'ed. " 's ok." She wiggled slightly, her body coming even closer to him, her arms taking his pillow and tossing it behind her as Spock watched in amusement as she moulded herself to fit into his frame, her head resting at the same pillow his was. He let out a short puff of air through his nose as she snuggled into him, his free arm wrapping around her back, his palm laid flat between her shoulder blades.

"Perhaps," he began, still whispering, "we would be more comfortable if we positioned ourselves vertically in the bed."

La'an shook her head. "Don't wanna move... you're comfortable." Her words were slurring together, he eyelids heavy. Spock brushed his lips against her forehead as his thumb traced the ridges of her spine through her shirt.

She whispered something that even his Vulcan ears couldn't detect. "What was that?"

"Scratch my back?" Spock snorted at the request, the sound extremely loud in the silent room as La'an smacked him in the chest gently. He sat up slightly, her eyes snapping open at the motion, as he gently slid his arm beneath her head and his other hand began with the task, his nails scratching lightly over the expanse of her back. She moaned, her eyes slipping closed as he found the right pressure. "Thank you."

Spock hummed as he tightened his arms around her, listening as her breathing evened out and she once again fell asleep. He ordered light off, the exhaustion from the day making his eyelids heavy as he felt his heartbeat slow down, his mind finally shutting down.

[mybullshitsensesaretingling]

A Vulcan Smile Part Two

[Part One]

A/N: listen idk what I’m doing. Idk know what this is. Idk what cannon I’m even going off of. Sarek’s a bad father in all of them tho so does it really matter?

The grass was cool against your skin, a welcome contrast to the thick heat that hung in the air. The sun had set hours ago, but even the darkness of the night couldn’t break the heat wave. If you focused less on the stars and the maps they formed in the sky, you could almost pretend you were back on Vulcan in your parents caurtyard with your siblings beside you. In those few peaceful moments when you were young and didn’t have lofty expectations to live up to. When your father was busy on some far off planet and your hushed giggles would go unpunished. 

“Can’t sleep either, huh?” 

You bolted upright, heart pounding. You had to squint slightly in the dark to make out the face of the figure standing at the edge of your yard. Leonard looked back at you, bags developing under his eyes.You hadn’t seen him in almost four months. It took you a moment to swallow your shock and to respond. 

“There’s a meteor shower. This is the only time the rings are dark enough to see it.” 

“Could I join you?” He gestured at the grass beside you. “Haven’t seen one from the ground in awhile.” 

You shrugged and he trudged over you and dropped unceremoniously to the ground. It was then that you realized he was wearing plaid pajama pants and slippers. You smiled despite yourself. 

“Having a hard time adjusting to sleeping on a planet again?” you asked in a hushed voice. 

“Always do.” 

You laid back and looked to the stars again. “My mom used to have the same problem.” 

You could feel him looking at you, but he didn’t say anything. When you eventually looked up at him he quickly diverted his attention up to the sky. 

“When did you get in?” 

“This afternoon.” 

You nodded, your attention drifting back to the night sky. After a moment, your face split with a grin and you tried to point out a meteor that had disappeared before he had the chance to turn his head. Your grin faded into a serine smile as you continued to search the dark for the passing lights. 

“You’re nothing like him,” he kept his voice just above a whisper, unwilling to break the peace that had settled over the neighbourhood. “Spock, I mean.” 

“I suppose you think that’s a compliment.” Even as you were saying the words you were sure if you were trying to start a fight or not, caught between the simple pleasure of sharing an astronomical event on a summer night and the rage of knowing someone was unkind to your brother. 

“Just an observation. How you take it is your business.” 

“He told me about you.” He looked back at you again. “I was shocked to find out the angry doctor in his story was the same man that Donna and Joanna spoke so fondly of.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“Joanna’s father is someone kind.” 

“Spock doesn’t think I’m kind?” he scoffed. “I suppose I saved his life for my own benefit.” 

“You’re careless with your words.” You plucked a blade of grass from the ground and twisted it between your fingers. 

He signed and dragged a hand down his face. “This is about the hobgoblin thing, isn’t it?” 

You didn’t respond. 

“It’s just- it’s teasing. Harmless teasing. That’s all. I don’t mean anything by it.” 

You looked at him out of the corner of your eyes but still don’t speak. The piece of grass in your hand never ceased its movement.

“Didn’t think he had a problem with it. He gives as good as he gets, you know.” 

The corner of your mouth ticked up. “Good for him.” 

“You really think it bugs him that much.” 

You thought about it for a moment. You thought about giving a noncommittal answer and dropping the subject. You thought about screaming at him. But the night air and the hushed, late night conversation got to you and you said something you wouldn’t during normal waking hours. 

“Growing up on Vulcan wasn’t easy. We had to face a lot of hostility just for existing. For the most part, Spock handled it the Vulcan way and he buried his feelings deep down inside and pretended it didn’t affect him. But that eats at you over time.” You weaved the blade of grass through your fingers. “He’s come a long way. He’s found a place he might be able to call home. I think sometimes you make it hard for him to forget what it was like to be that kid who didn’t belong.” 

He looked up to the stars to think. A meteor passed by his head and you let out a breath. 

“How did you handle it?”  he eventually asked. 

You studied his face for a moment, trying to find some tell, some reason for his question. You looked away. “I didn’t.” You curled a blade of grass around your finger. “It was decided that I was better suited to life on Earth and I was sent to be raised by my grandparents.”

“What’d you do?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, being sent to Earth as a Vulcan isn’t exactly a complement.” 

“I’m half human,” you reminded him. “I wanted to go.” 

“You had to have done something,” he pushed.

You hesitated. “I sent twelve kids to the hospital.” 

“Twelve?” His eyebrows shot up.

“Over two seperate incidents.” 

“That’s still an average of six kids.” 

You focused on the pale lights streaking across the sky. “I don’t like seeing my brother being bullied.” 

“Is that a threat?” 

“It’s a fact. How you take it is your business.” 

He chuckled and laid back against the grass. “I see why my sister likes you.”

“I like her too,” you smiled up at the stars and he watched you. 

“You know it's just a dust cloud, right?” he told you. 

“Even dust is beautiful, if you look at it from the right angle.” 

-

“I’m starting to get why Sarek sent you to Earth,” Leonard snarled across the table. “You must’ve been a nightmare to raise.” 

“At least he tried to raise me,” you shot back. 

“And he did a great job. You and Spock are both the picture of mental stability.” His sarcasm was heavy and cutting. 

“Can’t wait to see how Joanna’s gonna turn out.” 

Fred leaned over to his wife and muttered, “I told you it was a bad idea to invite them both to game night.” 

Donna whispered back, “I think they might actually be having fun.” 

“Just draw four, you backwater hick.”

“I don’t know how you’re cheating, but you are,” he complained as he added four cards to his hand of 25. 

“Why would I cheat at Uno?” you asked. 

“I happily do not understand the inner workings of the Vulc-” 

You clicked your tongue, interrupting him and examining your cards. “You bring up race even one time and you might just find out why Vulcans have to suppress our emotions.” 

“I’m not allowed to insult you but you can threaten me?” He tried to reorganize his enormous hand. “How is that fair?” 

“You have insulted me plenty.” You watch Fred play his turn. “Poorly, but plenty.”

Leonard scoffed, “This is you suppressing your emotions?” 

“I’m holding a lot back, believe me.”

“This is a great time. We should do this every time you’re in town, Leonard,” Donna said into her wine glass, before placing a red two onto the pile. 

“We really should,” you smiled before playing another draw four. 

Leonard narrowed his eyes at you. “Your entire family wants me to die of a stress related heart attack, don’t you?” 

“I’m sure my mother wishes you no ill will.”

“Well, at least I don’t have ghosts coming after me.”

-

Leonard spun the ring around his pinky. It had been an unusually slow day in sickbay. He may complain at length about the recklessness of the crew keeping him on his feet most days, but it was the slow days that he really hated. There was too much time to think. Normally he would pass the time by visiting the bridge, maybe getting in an argument with Spock, but that didn’t hold the aller it normally did. 

He looked through his files, trying to find some stray bit of paperwork that needed to be completed. He scanned the sickbay itself for some odd task that needed doing. But he found nothing. He had already done everything he had been putting off. There was nothing left to keep his mind busy. The skin under his ring was beginning to rub raw. 

“Computer, open Commander Spock’s family file.”

Even as the computer chimed he tried to pretend he wasn’t doing what he was. He straightened out a stack of PADDs on his desk, lining them up perfectly with the edge of the desk. He tapped his fingers on his knees, looking to see if a nurse was planning to ignore his orders and come back in. Eventually he again ran out of meaningless tasks and gave in. 

Biting the inside of his lip, he looked at the screen. He was shocked to see that the man he had originally assumed to be an only child was in fact one of many children. 

“Computer, show Amanda Grayson.” It wasn’t the request he wanted to make. He was still trying to convince himself that you hadn’t gotten into his head. 

“Amanda Grayson, Earth teacher, died stardate 2258.42. She is survived by three children.”

Leonard began to spin his ring again as he listened. 

“Show visual of the children.” 

The computer chimped again and displayed a photo of four children all dressed in traditional Vulcan attire. He scanned the blank faces and found that on closer inspection they weren’t completely blank. Each child showed their own tiny sign of rebellion. The oldest was clearly trying to stifle a laugh. The young girl next to him, who shared no resemblance to the rest of you, was failing to entirely hide her shock. Beside her, Spock’s brows were furrowed and his eyes were on you, standing at the end of the line with the smallest, self-satisfied smirk. 

Leonard couldn’t help but smile, imagining what trouble you must’ve gotten into to cause such extreme reactions . 

“Show a more recent visual.” 

The screen changed to a video of a ceremony. In the background a fifteen year old Spock was speaking to two other boys. Their voices were lost in the crowd, but the subtle changes in Spock’s posture said enough. He opened his mouth to respond but before he could, you had stepped in front of him and smashed your glass into the side of one of the boys face. The girl from the previous photo stepped in, speaking calmly. The boys’ reaction to her presence was to say something that only increased your rage and you tackled one of them. Your eldest brother tried to pull you off of him but the boy you left standing continued to escalate the situation. 

“Bones!” 

Leonard scrambled to turn off his screen as Jim entered the sickbay. He stopped a few paces from the desk and his eyes slowly moved down to the computer. 

“What were you looking at?” 

“Charts.” 

He lowered his brows suspiciously. “You moved that quickly to keep me from seeing charts?” 

“Medical confidentiality.” Leonard turned to face his captain fully. “What can I do for you?” 

“I’m just checking in. Haven’t heard you complain about anything in a few days. I got worried.” He strode across the floor and hopped up on the desk. Before Leonard could stop him, he turned his screen back on and his eyes went wide. “Now I’m really worried. What is this?” 

“Nothing.” 

“This isn’t nothing. This is a childrens fight club.” Jim leaned closer to the screen. “Is that Spock?” he asked as he watched the boy get tossed to the ground. 

“Yes,” Leonard admitted. 

Both men winced as they watched as you and the girl took on both the boys. 

“And I’m guessing that’s (Y/N)?” 

“Yes.” 

 “Great right hook.” Jim leaned closer to the screen, watching as you got in one last good punch before an adult finally stepped in. The five of you stood in a still line as you received a lecture. The only movement was Spock’s eyes moving to glare at you out of the corner of his eye. 

Jim looked over the face’s of all the children. The two boys were covered in blood, deep green bruises already beginning to form across their skin. You and your siblings, in comparison, were relatively unscathed. 

“Who started the fight?” 

“These two were picking on Spock. (Y/N), took matters into her own hands.” Leonard chuckled as you proceeded to try and pick a fight with the man who had ended the scuffle. 

“Who in their right mind would start something with this family? I’ve never seen a group of kids more willing to tear someone apart.” 

“Apparently, it was a common occurrence.” 

Jim eyed his friend. “You sure know how to pick ‘em.” He shook his head and looked back at the screen. “Computer, show a more recent visual.”

The computer chimed, “No more recent visuals exist for the children of Amanda Grayson.” 

“I didn’t pick anyone.” 

“Show file of (Y/N) Grayson.” Jim studied your file. “You’re right. Fate did. Is she… smiling?” 

“Yes.” Leonard tried to force down his own smile at seeing yours again. “She does it almost as much as she starts fights.” 

-

“I did not come here to start a fight with you.” 

“No, you just came here to disrespect me, my teachings, and this entire institution,” your angry voice drifted down the hall to Joanna and Leonard. 

They shared a look and Leonard pretended briefly that he was going to mind his own business and make her do the same, but they both found themselves walking down the hall towards the principal's office. 

“It is a bit late in the school year for your son to be switching classes,” the principal stated. 

“Had I known the conditions of his class sooner I would have requested his transfer before the school year started.” 

“And what conditions do you find unsatisfactory?” the principal asked. 

Your scoff was loud enough to hear even from Leonards position and he swore he could feel your eyes roll too. 

“I was under the impression that the class would be taught by a Vulcan.” 

“I am a Vulcan.” 

“You are a confusion that my son does not need to be confronted with at such a young age.”

“Your son has no problem understanding a mixed race person and is in fact excelling in my class. Perhaps if you were able to look past your own biases and shortcomings you would be able to see the benefit of a multicultural learning environment.” Your tone professional but venom laced your words.

“Your inability to control your emotions goes against Vulcan ideology and will have a detrimental impact on his growth.”

“With all due respect, sir, Vulcan is gone. If it’s people continue to cling to their elitism and ancient ideology with no attempt to adapt and share this universe then our culture will die with it. Allowing your son to remain in my class will not diminish his growth or decrease his learning opportunities, but I promise you that transferring him and passing your bigotry on to him will.” A chair screeched across the floor as you stood up. “Ultimately the choice is yours. I am sure that Mr. Gunam will aid you with whatever you decide. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have papers to grade.” 

You stepped into the hall and the McCoys pretended to be fascinated by a poster warning of the dangers of recreational drug use. 

“Jo, Leonard,” you greeted, your expression harder than either was used to seeing. “How much did you hear?” 

“Not much. The door muffled a lot, so we really didn’t hear-” Leonard started before his daughter interrupted. 

“I’m sorry that bigots can’t see that you’re a great teacher.” 

You smiled down at her. It wasn’t as bright as it normally was but it broke up the pain in your eyes. “Thank you, Jo. What are you two doing here so late?” 

“I was showing Dad my sculpture.” 

“Oh yeah?” you asked as the three of you started back down the hall. 

“It’s award winning,” Leonard told you proudly. 

“Yeah it is!” Your smile grew and you lifted your hand up to high five her, an action she enthusiastically returned. The moment your hands parted, the Vulcan father cleared his throat behind you. You turned to see him standing just outside the office, something very similar to a watered down form of disgust on his face. 

“Christ,” Leonard grumbled. “It’s a high five.” 

“Doctor,” you warned quietly. 

“He’s looking at you like you’re single handedly destroying Vulcan culture.” 

“Not single handedly. I’m being aided greatly by my family.” You eyed the Vulcan. “Isn’t that right, T’Katt?” 

“Your family does represent a harmful departure from traditional Vulcan ideals,” he agreed. “Perhaps you more than the others. 

Despite the fact that you had known what he would say when you asked, his answer sent rage through you. You tightened your hands into fists and tried to remain calm. Your mild wirled with things to say that wouldn’t cause you took lose your job, but Leonard surprised you and spoke up again before you had the chance. 

“I’d appreciate it if you kept your logic extremist politics to yourself and away from the school. My daughter’s here. She’s a little young for all this and I don't want you to confuse her.” He wore a sickly sweet smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Don’t worry, Dad. I’m not confused. And I think he’s right; this school doesn’t align with his ideas. After all,” Joanna pointed up to a poster nestled between the drug awareness poster and the academic calendar on the wall, “this is a xenophobia free zone.” 

As the two McCoys stood firmly beside you, you felt the growing ball of anger in your chest loosen. You were surprised to find you didn’t feel any impulse to continue to fight this losing battle. 

You held up a Vulcan salute, your expression matching Leonards. “Live long and prosper.” 

And with that the three of you turned to leave, having no desire to engage with him anymore. Joanna stayed by your side as her father walked ahead to open the door at the end of the hall for you. 

“Logic extremists?” you asked her in a hushed voice. “Did you teach him that?” 

She held up her hands. “That was all him. I’m as surprised as you are.”

You looked back up at the doctor. “Fascinating.”

[Part three]

[hailbop1701]

Curing a Rainy Day

A sort of five times Star Trek gen fic for your viewing pleasure. I mentioned I would write it but please be aware that I wrote this on my phone late at night and I has no beta. Typos and mistakes will be found. 🤣

-H❤🖖

Word Count: 2,166

Sulu:

Leonard McCoy wasn’t a huge touchy-feely type of man. Well, that’s what he really wants folks to think anyway. He was a doctor and that meant it was his oath-bound duty to cure what ails his patients. Whether it was from a physical malady or an emotional one. The first time he initiated his “Rainy Day Cure” --title courtesy of his daughter-- to one of the command crew he was surprised that it was Sulu of all people. If Len were being honest he thought it would have been Jim. Sure he had hugged the kid in the past but he always let Jim be the one to initiate contact. The reason why is complicated and a story for another time. 

When he found him the young pilot was huddled alone in Observation Room Five, his shoulders hunched, his down so his eyes were hidden and mind lightyears away. Leonard had a feeling he knew where. The chaos after Khan and Marcus had caused a lot of damage, and not all of it was physical. They were all still healing even a year later. They had left Kronos not three hours ago and according to the mission report, Sulu’s younger sister was…

Not who she claimed to be. ‘Yuki,’ McCoy recalled her name lamely as he made his way loudly over to the depressed man.

She revealed that she worked for Section 31 and was determined to fix the Federation the right way. Though the term “Right way” is skewed for many folks. War was almost started, again and the Enterprise had to stop it, again. Section 31 now had the last little pebble of Red Matter and was holding it like a…” Nuclear deterrent” as the old saying goes. 

Shaking his head Leonard pushed recent events to the back of his mind and continued on his own mission. Plopping down on the couch that faced the giant window of stars, McCoy leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. 

He didn’t offer his apologies or sympathies, he knew Sulu didn’t want them. So they sat in silence. Sulu just shook his head and looked up at the doctor with confusion and betrayal in his eyes. “I don’t - I” he stopped swallowing and the helmsman looked so young Leonard didn’t even think about it until after he had already done it. 

He wrapped an arm over Hikaru’s shoulder and squeezed. Sulu stilled for a moment before relaxing and saying what needed to be said, a weight slowly lifting off his shoulders and his chest. 

Scotty:

Leonard and Scotty were both having a terrible terrible time. The cold sucked in Leonard’s opinion and being trapped on an ice ball of a planet only confirmed his feelings. Looking over at the Enterprises Chief Engineer, Leonard had a feeling that he wasn’t alone in his thoughts and feelings. 

The Scot was curled into a tight ball up against the last running console the entire ‘Fleet base had. He was shivering and muttering to himself, glaring at the distress signal he had rigged up. There was nothing they could do but wait. Rubbing his hands together to warm them Leonard moved toward the console and slid down to the floor next to Scotty. Touching shoulders with Scotty, McCoy tucked his hands under his arms and sighed. There was nothing he could really say to ease the engineer’s anxiety -- which stemmed from Delta Vega no doubt --  so he simply let his presence be enough. 

Scotty glanced at Leonard to see that he was looking back at him with calm understanding. Grunting Scotty curled himself closer to the CMO and let the man wrap an arm around his shoulders. They didn’t speak a word and only moved when they heard the sounds of the rescue party on the other side of the sealed doors. 

Chekov:

Pavel Chekov was the youngest of the command crew, so he was automatically protected and treated like the youngest sibling of a giant family. The navigator understood that his friends didn’t mean to and that it was just sometimes a reflex but he was getting damn tired of it. Today was his birthday, he had finally turned twenty! Chekov was so pleased to find that after the incident with Khan he was being treated like he should. There was one person who always treated him like he was young and precious. 

Pavel found that he didn’t mind so much. Doctor McCoy treated almost everyone that way -- even though he wasn’t that much older than the rest of them --  in an almost fatherly manner. A true caretaker. Chekov allowed the behavior from no one but McCoy. 

Leonard walked into “Rec Room Two” taking in the crowd with a softening scowl. A small wrapped parcel gripped in his hand. He looked down at the present, weighing it in his hands carefully.  With a sigh, McCoy strode through the room looking for the birthday boy. Jim waved at him wildly from the other side of the room a huge grin on his face. Narrowing his eyes, Leonard saw that his captain wasn’t in fact drunk at all. Grunting in approval he smiled at Chekov who was hurrying over to greet him. 

“Happy Birthday Pavel,” 

Chekov grinned and his eyes widened at the present presented to him. Leonard gestured for him to open it and the young man did excitedly. The wrapping paper littered the floor a long black box in its place. Slowly opening the box the navigator knocked a silver antique pocket knife into his hands. Examining it closely he looked up at McCoy in confusion. 

Leonard shifted nervously on his feet. Clearing his throat he pulled out a similar from his belt. “My daddy gave me this one to match his when I turned twenty. I know your pa wasn’t around as you grew up and so I thought…” his sentence fell into silence. For once Leonard McCoy was at a loss for words. Pavel quickly wiped a stray tear from his eye and grinned at his friend holding onto the gift tightly. 

“Thank you doctor!” he said gratefully and Leonard understood that it was for more than just a knife. A small smile graced the CMO’s lips and pulled the kid in for a hug. 

With anyone else, Pavel would have been annoyed. This was an exception. 

Uhura:

Leonard was tired. He longed for his bed but as he looked around at all of the injured crew he pushed the longing away. There was no time for it. Rubbing the blurry fatigue from his eyes he pushed on. Triage, surgery, aftercare. He really didn’t truly stop to breathe until the middle of gamma shift when the ship was sleepy and quiet. The only noise was the soft beeps and whistles of monitors. His nurses quietly whispering and working. 

Christine hours ago told him to stop worrying and to go to bed already but something in him just couldn’t. Blinking dumbly down at the PADD in his hands he sighed and signed off on the next round of Spock’s antibiotics. During the Enterprises most recent scuffle the bridge took a hit and the science station exploded sending the first officer flying, earning him a ticket to medical. 

After the fight was over and things had only calmed down to a trickle of wounded instead of a flash flood, Nyota Uhura breezed through sickbay’s doors. She waited patiently and even helped where she could. When Spock came out of surgery and was placed in a private room she immediately went to his side and hasn’t moved an inch since. Jim would have been right beside her if he could afford to. But it appears the admiralty wanted words and had kept him busy since. McCoy had barely just convinced him to get some sleep saying that he would call if anything changes. 

That was three hours ago. 

Leonard walked -- though Nyota would say shuffled -- into Spock’s room, his eyes going straight to the monitors above the bed. The half Vulcan was resting peacefully. McCoy knew it was only a matter of time before he woke and would go into a healing trance. Something that should be monitored anyway. Leonard quietly wondered who he would grant the opportunity to slap Spock awake this time…

“Leonard!” 

The sound of his name made the CMO snap his head in Uhura’s direction. Her eyes were fire, filled with frustration, exhaustion, and worry. McCoy winced, “Sorry Nyota, guess my mind wandered a bit,” he said somewhat sheepishly. Her expression softened a flash of guilt passing through her features. 

“You need more rest. You’re going to run yourself into the ground at this rate,” she scolded half-heartedly. McCoy gave her a small smile and a shrug, 

"I'll rest when I'm not needed." He whispered and badly covered up a yawn. The hidden meaning behind his words wasn't lost on the linguist though. She pressed her lips into a tight line deciding not to comment. Instead, she rested her gaze on Spock once more her hand inches away from his. 

So deep in thought, Nyota hadn't even realized that McCoy had left and come back, a tray with a couple of hypos in his always unwavering hands. Catching her eyes he gave her another encouraging smile. He took care to tell her everything he was doing and how it would help keep infection away. Leonard knew he didn't have to explain but he felt it necessary to fill the quiet with "Illogical chatter" as Spock would surely call it. 

Uhura was so tired and so frazzled that she was startled to find the CMO crouching in front of her with concern all over his face. "You need to get some rest Nyota. I can have a cot brought in if you'd like…" 

Uhura, let a few tears fall before she bottled it up again. She shook her head wiping her face, "I'm alright Leo. Everything is just catching up to me…" she mumbled with a watery chuckle. Leonard snorted at the nickname she had given him, 

"Just let me know darlin' " 

And without truly thinking about it he pulled her into a hug. It only took Uhura a second to process what was happening before she wrapped her arms around him tightly. A genuine smile breaking across her face. The first time in hours she felt content, safe, and able to truly breathe. 

Jim: 

James T. Kirk was a touchy-feely type of man. Leonard supposed it may be from a less than stellar childhood. So whenever Jim would pull him into a one-armed hug or slapped his back or even leaned up against him, McCoy would let him. He would definitely bitch but only half-heartedly, Leonard needed to keep up appearances after all. 

So when they found Jim partially dead, hanging from his wrists in a cave all smirks and charm…

Well, no one batted an eye when -- after he made sure that the man would live -- Leonard pulled his best friend in for a hug. Jim just laughed, laid an arm over McCoy's shoulder, and leaned into the hug. 

"I only had to get tortured and offered to an alien God for you to hug me. Good to know," 

"Shut up Kid," 

Spock:

No one ever thought the words McCoy, Spock, and hug would ever be uttered but stranger things have happened on the Enterprise. 

No stranger than an alien device that turned back time. In a physical sense anyway. Leonard looked down at his adolescent hands and sighed with a heavy eye roll. "Not this again," he grumbled with a shudder. 

Looking around the room he saw Jim shouting at Mudd who had bought the alien weapon and decided to point it at him and Spock. McCoy tilted his head, his eyes going comically wide. 

Spock! 

Where was the green-blooded rugrat? Leonard looked around and sighed in relief at the sight of the first officer. He was hidden under a rickety wooden table. Crouching down Leonard gave Spock a small smile, he waved and gestured for the Vulcan to come closer. Apparently the younger you go the further your mind goes with it. Spock had a mentality of a...of well, a toddler. He couldn't have been more than two. 

Spock stared at Leonard intensely before darting out and crashing into his legs. McCoy stumbled a little before he got his footing. Spock looked up at him with wide scared eyes, tears threatening to fall. 'Must have gotten all Vucan-y at four or five,' Leonard thought as he picked up his friend. 

Leonard pulled Spock close, hugging him to his chest whispering softly. Spock seemed confused for only a moment before he buried his head into the young CMO's neck. 

Jim of course saw it all and later under the threat of meeting his end via an airlock kept his mouth firmly shut. The only thing the Starship Captain said -- which everyone agreed-- Doctor Leonard McCoy could absolutely cure a rainy day. 

Tags:

@lauraaan182, @chickadee-djarin, @cowenby2, @bluesclues-1234, @sayuri9908,