A/N: So, this is my first Star Trek fic and slash. Brought on by seeing the newest movie four times, once at an advanced screening. I watched a lot of reruns of TOS as a kid, but never really thought of Kirk/Spock as an actual pairing, mostly because I was too young to understand. However, now, it's a different story. Obviously, if I'm writing this. Here's hoping it's good.
Jim's breath fogged on the shuttle port as he peered through it to gaze at Earth. Mindlessly, he drew his index finger through it, drawing loops and whirls until they faded, only to be half glimpsed once more as he exhaled again. With a sigh he turned in his seat and slouched, a frown tugging at his lips.
"Is something troubling you Captain?" Spock's voice at his back jerked him out of his half daze. The Vulcan was a warm presence at his side on the tightly packed shuttle to Starfleet.
"Nothing," Jim answered without looking back. He suddenly had McCoy peering down at him, asking if he felt alright. "I feel fine, Bones. Perfectly fine," he snapped, pushing the doctor's hand away. Bones looked skeptical, "I don't know what you're feeling kid, but fine isn't it."
Jim shot him a glare before glancing up and down the shuttle. Chekov and Sulu were engaged in a nearly tearful good-bye as Chekov would be going to Russia during the two weeks of leave, and Sulu would not. Scotty was furtively sneaking a drink from his flask with a half finished sandwich on his lap, and Uhura was filing her nails and sitting farthest away, nowhere near Spock. Jim blinked, wondering if they'd broken up or something. No matter; he returned his attention to Bones.
"If you really have to know," Jim answered, his voice pitched low, "is that my mom wanted me to visit. She had made all sorts of plans, and now she and my stepdad aren't even going to be there. I'm going to be stuck in the house for two weeks alone."
Bones glanced away, feeling sympathy for his friend. He would've liked to help him out, but he too was busy. Everyone was, as far as he knew. He was understandably surprised then, when Spock spoke up.
"If you have no objection, Captain, I have no plans for during shore leave."
Jim turned in his seat to face him, eyes widening. "You'd come along to keep me company?"
"If it would not be an intrusion," Spock inclined his head.
"Course not." In all honesty, Jim had only intended to cruise the bars of his youth and lay around the house. "But," he paused to think, "I thought you were going to New Vulcan?"
Bones looked over, noticing the way Spock stiffened. "Jim," he warned softly.
"That had been my intent. However, I have received word that I will not be needed to assist in rebuilding our population. I was then going to remain at Starfleet for the extent of leave," the Vulcan answered tightly. Jim's frown deepened, for different reasons. It didn't take a genius to see the reasoning behind the Vulcans' decision; Spock's mixed blood. Maybe he could talk to the other, elder Spock about that. For now, though he was grateful for the company.
Spock followed Jim as the captain wound his way through the crowds of people. Jim kept up a constant stream of chatter over his shoulder as he dodged elbows and narrowly avoided tripping over feet or bags.
"You didn't have to come along y'know. It's going to be damned boring. Nothing in Iowa but cornfields really. We should've gone to Vegas."
"Las Vegas?" Spock asked, trailing after Jim and taking a seat next to him on the shuttle.
"City of sin," Jim nodded. "I bet it'd be more fun."
"I've have read that what happens there…stays there?"
"That's the rumor. Anything can happen and usually does. Like drunken marriages by someone dressed up like an old Terran musician. I think he was royalty too," Jim added as an afterthought. Spock's angled brows drew together as he looked at Jim. He hadn't heard anything about that, just that Las Vegas was a place of bright lights and gambling and scantily clad people. Seemed like the place his Captain would enjoy.
"Oh! Spock, hey Spock!" Jim almost tapped Spock's shoulder, remembering at the last second the Vulcan's desire for personal space.
"It's Jim on leave Spock. Anyway, see that quarry down there?"
Spock leaned slightly over Jim to look out the port. "Yes. What about it?"
"I drove a car into it when I was a kid. A corvette actually, a nice one. It had been my dad's."
The Vulcan stared at Jim in, if he hadn't known better, surprise. "What made you do that?"
Jim chuckled softly. "It was Frank. My step-dad. My brother had just run off, and Frank was thinking of selling the car. But it wasn't his to sell, so I made sure he couldn't." He looked over at Spock, and noticed that his eyes widened imperceptibly. "Let me guess, you're thinking I'm one of the most illogical humans you ever met, right?"
"Your guess is not inaccurate Cap-Jim. Risking your own life simply to ensure that a car would not be sold is highly illogical. What if you had not jumped out in time?"
"I've thought of that since then. For one I wouldn't be sitting here right now, captain of the crew that saved the Federation. But I wasn't thinking at the time."
"Obviously," Spock murmured, turning back in his seat. Jim stared at him. "Are you making fun of me Spock? Ha! I didn't think you had it in you. Anyway, c'mon, looks like we landed."
Jim's mom, when she found she couldn't be there to pick him up, had left her nearly ancient pickup truck for him to use. The outside was still faded red paint and rusted chrome, but inside the engine had been modified to ensure it ran and ran well, and it had a killer radio set up. Jim was delighted to find he could find any and all songs from centuries past if he wanted. Spock, on the other hand, was less than pleased, though of course restricted showing it to a slight twitch of his left eyebrow.
The Vulcan wondered if it would count as a court marshal worthy offense if he were to render his captain unconscious via a nerve pinch, and also how quickly he could gain control of the vehicle. Whatever Jim was doing could not legally be called singing. In fact, what it could be called was grating on Spock's ears. He was not entirely certain just what a 'disco stick' was, but the sexual connotations were prevalent enough that he could figure it out.
Mercifully, the song ended, and Jim turned the radio down. Were he not Vulcan and in complete control of himself, Spock might have sighed and sagged his shoulders in relief. "Spock, can I ask you a question without you doing that neck pinching thing?"
"That depends entirely on the nature of the question."
"You're not just going to tell me 'yes' are you?"
"That would be lying, and Vulcans do not lie."
Ignoring the urge to point out that Spock was half-human and therefore half capable of lying, or capable of half lies, Jim chose instead to ask his question. "So, did you and Uhura break up? Because I saw she was sitting apart from us on the shuttle and you didn't say anything about going with her on leave."
"Are you going to attempt to pursue her now?" Spock asked, and there was a hard edge to his voice that hadn't been there a second before.
"So was that a yes or a no?" Jim started to laugh, cutting it short when he saw Spock staring at him, looking one step away from strangling him on the dashboard. "No, I'm not going to pursue her. Not that she'd go out with me even if I was. Call it friendly curiosity," he said flippantly, pulling into the driveway of his childhood home.
"Very well. The relationship Nyota and I shared ran its course and came to a logical conclusion. It built to a certain point and progressed not further. Our relationship was more intellectual than anything. She and I had an amicable parting of the ways, and she is now free to choose a companion more suited to her."
"Where's that leave you then?"
"That leaves me here. This is your house?" The Vulcan science officer looked up at the modest, two story farm house. It appeared freshly painted, and the wide, covered porch had obviously just been swept.
"Yeah, this is where I grew up. I'll show you where you'll sleep," Jim pulled the key from his pocket and opened the door. The interior looked just as he remembered it, clean, organized, but filled with homey little touches like his mom's knickknacks tucked into corners or resting on shelves. Hanging on the wall in the kitchen was the antique clock that was shaped like a cat. The tail and eyes swung back and forth in time with the ticking.
"Fascinating," Spock commented, eyeing the clock.
"Mom always loved that clock. It was a gift from me and George one Christmas; we pooled out allowance and bought it for her." Jim unloaded his bags on the steps and kicked off his shoes. "Follow me," he called, padding upstairs and trusting Spock would follow. Indeed, he appeared at his side as he pushed open the door to the guest room. "You can stay here, I'll stay in my old room. This is ok, right?" Jim suddenly sounded uncertain, and was watching Spock worriedly.
"This will be fine Jim," Spock answered quietly, surveying the room. Sunlight filtered through the open window, lighting the gleaming wood floors. The quilt had been turned down on the bed, and hangers hung in the slightly open closet should they be needed.
"Ok, well, I'm gonna go unpack, and then, well, d'you want to maybe go get something for dinner?" Jim asked, giving Spock a lopsided grin. A grin which grew when the other man nodded. "Alright. I'll be right back and then we'll go. I think there's somewhere with a decent salad bar around here…" he trailed off as he went back to his own room.
There was in fact, a small restaurant which served excellent homemade pizza and had a better than decent salad bar. Both Spock and Jim ate well, the food tasting even better given that all the pair had eaten recently was replicated. "Can't beat brick oven pizza," Jim sighed contentedly, letting them back into the house.
"Indeed, I found the salad to be more than satisfactory. Perhaps we could go there again?"
"It's a date, Spock."
A/N: so, that's it. I know, it's short and nothing much has happened, but as far as intros go, what's the verdict? I mean, no lie, I deleted or rewrote all or parts of this at least 3 times. And this is the final product that I'm mostly happy with. I promise I'll be building the plot and relationship within the next chapters, if people think I should continue.