Author's Note: (I know, a note before the story, crazy) This is a side-piece to 'Home'. While planning my Amok Time rewrite, I considered how Pon Farr might go in that universe, if it occurred naturally after Jim and Spock had been together for several years. And while I still plan my Amok Time rewrite, this little snippet popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone. So here it is. If I ever bite the bullet and write a K/S sex-scene, expect it to be 'chapter two' of this.

---

"Let me get this straight," Jim asked, regarding his first officer carefully. A digital pamphlet was lying on the desk beside him, and the two of them were sitting his quarters. Well, actually, Jim was sitting. Spock was pacing. And simultaneously pretending that he wasn't pacing, even though that was what it was generally called when a person walked aimlessly back and forth over the same stretch of floor for a while. "You're telling me that, in a few days, you're going to go sex-crazy?"

Spock glanced at him, and then gave a single, sharp nod. "To put it in simplified terms," he agreed, his voice strained with a hard note which Jim associated with a certain level of anxiety.

"And if you don't get some sex, you'll die?"

A brief pause.

"That is the nature of my condition, yes."

Jim leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "So you'll be in an irrational, dangerous mood, lashing out left and right until we lock ourselves in my – or your – quarters, and screw like mad for however long it takes you to get this out of your system?"

"I apologize for the inconvenience."

"How long will it last for?"

Spock considered this. "I cannot say," he admitted honestly. "With my unique physiology, the length of time would be difficult to assess. The longest of Pon Farr's tend to last for as many as four days. The shortest, less than one."

Jim nodded very slowly, lost in careful contemplation. "So – just to be clear – you're requesting that you and I take a brief, shipbound leave of absence from our duties to shut ourselves in a room for as many as four days and have mad sex? And that we have to do this upon pain of your death?"

"Yes. Again, I apologize."

"It's imperative to your well-being that we get it on?"

There was a pause, and Spock regarded him with a somewhat suspicious, knowing glance.

"…You are pleased about this," he observed.

Jim grinned, stretching his arms out a little and resting his hands behind his head, putting the fit lines of his body blatantly on display. He derived an excessive amount of pleasure from the little bob in Spock's throat as the half-Vulcan's gaze drifted decidedly southward.

"I'm ecstatic," he confirmed. "When can we start?"

Spock considered him quietly for a silent stretch of time.

Then, very slowly, and to Jim's complete and utter shock, he graced him with a broad and genuine smile.

A moment later, the chair fell over as he was promptly tackled to the floor.