Riverside, Part 4 of 4

The comm link was finally working, which allowed Spock to link up the new portable device Jim had given him with his old one and check its features while he downloaded his messages.

There were two from Lt. Commander Scott - one to update him on the repair reports he had received and one to wish him happy holidays; one each from Nyota, Lt. Sulu and Ensign Chekov, and Nurse Chapel wishing him the same—which, no doubt the captain had also received—and three more from his Canadian cousin on subspace channel. He was making quick replies to each when there was a knock on the door before it opened to reveal Jim.

Jim looked at him working on the portable device and smiled brilliantly. "What do you think of the features?" He sat down on the chair next to Spock.

"I have just begun to run through the diagnostics and the various upgrades from the previous operating systems in similar devices." He scrolled down the screen. "It is by far the most superior model I have come across. I will be able to do a complete run of all the features once all my data has been transferred." Spock looked at Jim and added. "You have, as always, shown impeccable judgment."

Then he froze, realizing how the words could be interpreted. He did not wish to come across as if he was forcing his friend in making a decision in haste.

But when he looked at Jim, there was no sign of censure on his face, only a gentle smile. "I'm glad it works for you, Spock."

Spock inclined his head, and turned back to the device, keeping an eye on the data transfer progress as he perused the data sent by Scotty. He could feel Jim's eyes on his face, but compelled himself to focus on his task, trying not to fidget under his friend's regard.

He had only gone 1.35 minutes in silence when Jim softly murmured, "Okay."

Spock looked at Jim. "Pardon?"

That smile was still on Jim's face, warming his eyes in a most endearing manner. "Let's do it."

Spock looked closely at him, his heart beating faster in his side. "You mean to say-"

"Yeah." Jim grinned. "You're hot; I'm hot. We're friends. We already get along perfectly." Jim looked down at his hands, then back up, something almost shy filling his blue eyes. "I think this could work. I want to give this a try."

Spock breathed out slowly. "Jim, I- Thank you."

Jim smiled widely. "Hey, thank you for... giving me this gift. You already rocked in my opinion." He chuckled, a roguish glint in his eyes. "Now I can admire your more... aesthetic qualities as well."

Spock resisted the urge to roll his eyes, as it would not be very Vulcan. "Jim."

"Yes, Spock," Jim asked.

"I have a request."

"Go ahead."

Spock watched Jim's eyes, relieved that the playfulness did not dilute the genuine goodwill so obvious in their depths. "I would prefer..." he hesitated.

Jim watched him eagerly. "What?"

Spock began again, "I do not wish this to be..." he paused.

Jim stopped smiling. "What, Spock?"

Spock attempted again: "When we go back to the ship, I do not wish for us to face any awkwardness."

Jim frowned. "Why would we?"

Spock sighed. "Jim."

"What?'

He looked at his friend's face closely. "Over the past 2.16 years, we have spent 92.53% of our time on the ship. This... relationship that we have, as fellow officers, as comrades - as friends - has originated on the ship."

Jim watched him. "Yeah."

"Whatever it has progressed to, whether you and I were aware of it or not - it happened on the Enterprise."

Jim nodded. "Right."

Spock breathed in slowly. "I would prefer that... whatever further steps we take to ascend our affiliation to a more intimate level, to originate on the ship as well." He searched Jim's eyes for any sign of offense but could see nothing of the sort. He continued, "I would want this... to be the 'norm,' rather than an anomaly."

Jim looked into his eyes, his face serious. "You want to wait... till we get back to the ship."

"Affirmative." Spock inclined his head. "Is that agreeable?"

Jim took a deep breath, a contemplative smile on his face. "Yeah, Spock. I can wait for a few more days." His lips twitched. "It'll be hell, but I can wait."

"Indeed."

He watched Spock for a moment, and then the corners of his eyes crinkled, "But I need something in return."

Spock asked, "What?"

"Since we're waiting - and by 'waiting,' you probably mean we can't kiss in the human way," he said, his eyes dropping to where Spock's hands were on the keypad of the portable device before lifting his own hands and placing them too on the desktop. He lifted his head to lock Spock's eyes in his suddenly heated gaze. "You'll let me... kiss you in the Vulcan way."

Spock felt heat rise in his face. "Jim, that is also a very intimate gesture."

"I know." Jim grinned. "But we've already done that. And in front of my mom, too." He watched Spock. "Please. Let me have this."

There was something almost ardent in Jim's tone. Spock could see the play of emotions on his already expressive face and felt his heart rate increase. He looked down at Jim's hands and felt the heat on his face spread across his cheeks. He knew these hands to be adept at whichever tasks his captain took on. Adept, and sure, and strong.

He looked up at Jim's face and nodded. "Very well."

Jim beamed. "So you want this to be the norm, huh?"

"I do."

He held his breath as Jim moved his right hand over Spock's left, resting it palm down over it, and then slowly rubbed the pads of his fingers over Spock's knuckles. Spock fought the impulse to close his eyes in the sudden onslaught of ecstasy. No touch upon his person had ever felt as intimate as this simple graze of fingers did. Jim's eyes were on his face as he murmured, his voice sounding rough, "Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful hands, Mr. Spock?"

Spock swallowed heavily. "Yes, they have."

Jim exhaled. "So truthful."

Spock lifted a brow. "I find there is no reason to lie, Jim."

"Of course not." He grinned. "I'm just wondering - would you let me hold your hand on the bridge?"

Spock lifted a brow. "I will not."

Jim's eyes were smiling. "Denying me already, Spock? That's not very romantic."

Spock watched the amusement in Jim's eyes. "Holding hands on the bridge while on duty would be most illogical, Captain."

"Would it?" Jim's tone was innocent. "Well, we'll have to see about that, won't we?"


That night, Jim took Spock out for the dinner they hadn't been able to make when his mom had arrived during their second night at the house.

Cerino, the Italian place on Vine Street hadn't changed much in four years. The moment Jim walked inside with Spock, he felt immediately at home. It was a charming little place with low-ceiling surroundings and wicker basket Chianti bottles hanging from nails and cheese grates covering the lights. They were greeted at the door by the Maître d' and were promptly escorted to their table situated a couple of steps down into the interior dining room, nestled into an intimate corner. It was a cozy setting, a most suitable place for quite a romantic date. Jim smiled when he realized this was the exact same place he'd booked the last time, even when none of this was going on.

They placed their orders amidst the mouthwatering aroma of garlic and herbs wafting from the kitchen: rice croquettes with mozzarella for starters, then rigatoni with eggplant and dried tomato pesto for Spock and marinated roast peppers for Jim, and a panzanella salad to share. It was all vegetarian, and he noticed Spock getting ready to admonish him for depriving himself of meat for Spock's sake, so Jim cut him off before he could begin. He told Spock that he wanted to eat vegetarian, as he'd had enough meat over the holidays to last a few weeks. Spock acquiesced at that, though he still looked a little suspicious.

Jim remained determined. Technically, this was their first date. Jim was not going to be eating meat in front of Spock right now.

First date. Damn. Jim had no idea how all this had actually come about. He still felt like he was dreaming and he'd be rudely woken up at any moment and all of this would be over.

He looked at Spock over their wine glasses and mused at the enigma that was his First Officer. Spock was wearing his black parka over a navy blue cardigan and dark trousers, and probably two other layers insides so as to beat the chill, and Jim couldn't help but be reminded of the way he'd reacted at seeing this ensemble the first time he'd seen Spock wearing it. That'd been in the transporter room just a few days back, when they were beaming down from the Enterprise. He remembered he'd teased Spock about his 'chic coat,' had even whistled like a darn Lothario.

And all the while, Spock had actually harbored feelings for Jim.

But flirting was like second nature to Jim. He flirted with everyone, even Bones, and it didn't mean anything. At least, it didn't mean anything with Bones, he grinned. He also flirted with people with whom he did want something to happen. He just flirted; it happened.

However, looking back on it in hindsight, he wondered if perhaps there had been something brewing under the surface with Spock that he hadn't realized. They'd served together for two years, and he hadn't known anything, had been oblivious to the undercurrents all that time. Would Spock have said anything at all if Winona hadn't, in a way, forced his hand? He'd asked Spock this and had only gotten a murmured, "I do not know, Jim."

Their dinner came and they dug into it with gusto. Everything was as delicious as Jim had remembered it. Over his meal, he watched Spock eat with his characteristic gracefulness, his movements economical and elegant. He'd always enjoyed watching Spock eat. Everything he did was always so refined and cultured - the way he held the fork and knife; the way he took the bite on the fork into his mouth, the way he chewed.

But tonight Jim was noticing things he'd never done so before. The way the long line of Spock's throat looked when he swallowed a bite. How his mouth glistened when he sucked on an olive and took it into his mouth. The way his neatly trimmed fingernails sparkled almost white on his elegant, long fingers. The fine sprinkling of fuzzy hairs on the back of his hands. Jim knew they went all the way over his forearm, and. he knew there was more. He'd seen Spock shirtless many times in the gym, and once in sickbay a few months ago, after he'd gotten injured on an away mission and had spent sixteen hours in a healing trance.

Jim remembered how hard those hours had been on him. He'd thought he was worried because Spock was his First Officer and friend. The thought of anything happening to Spock now sent a chill down his spine.

He shook his head. No point in thinking about those things now. He looked up and noticed Spock staring at him in question.

"Is something the matter, Jim?"

Jim stared at the raised eyebrow and allowed the good feelings from a moment ago to come back to him. He smiled. That eyebrow had always fascinated him.

"Nothing, Spock." He grinned, taking a sip of his wine. "Just thinking."

"Were you thinking about anything in particular?"

And Jim's gaze fell on Spock's mouth again, the way his lips moved when he talked. Spock really had the most perfect cupid's bow mouth. Jim suddenly had an inappropriate urge to reach out and run his fingers on the outline of Spock's mouth - first the upper lip, then the lower. It looked so soft and succulent.

But he knew he couldn't. Spock had given him permission to touch his hands only, and that too in private, never in public. Public hand touching was an absolute taboo in Vulcan culture.

He smiled. "Just... appreciating the aesthetics, Spock."

And it happened again. That beautiful sage blush spread across Spock's cheeks and Jesus, if that wasn't fucking gorgeous to behold, Jim didn't know what was.

Spock recovered quickly. "I have noticed your tendency to let your mind wander at the most inopportune times." He raised his eyebrow. "Your dinner is undoubtedly becoming cold."

Jim's smile widened as he picked up the fork again and went back to the meal. The hour passed quickly after that, conversation coming easily to them and without any awkwardness that might have existed had they been strangers before tonight. Or maybe not - maybe, it wouldn't have been awkward even then. They'd always had a connection. They'd had an antagonistic beginning and an explosive start, but, while they'd worked more than adequately on their own, their true creative genius had only come alive when they'd joined their forces together. Jim had realized a while ago that he and Spock worked best when they worked together.

Neither of them were in the mood for dessert, so when dinner was over and Jim had paid, they went for a short walk to the park near the main city square. Most of the shops were still closed, the crowd much thinner this time of the year - most people were still celebrating the holidays either at home or out of town. The weather hadn't helped much either, Jim realized, as he felt Spock shiver next to him—it was time to go back.

On their way back to the house, after a few minutes of manual driving, Jim turned on the autodriver program and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. He stayed quiet like this for a few minutes, then keeping his eyes closed, reached out with his right hand to grab Spock's left.

And there it was - that little sizzle that went through their skin every time he touched Spock's hands. He ran his fingers slowly over Spock's knuckles and heard him breathe in sharply.

"Jim," he murmured, his gravelly tone raising goose bumps over his skin, "I believed you said you were going to show some restraint."

Jim snorted. "Trust me, Spock. If all I'm doing is touching your hands until we get back to the ship, then that is the height of showing restraint as far as I'm concerned."

He felt rather than heard Spock sigh next to him.

And he smiled.


It did not get better the next day.

The firewood supply had run out, so Jim had requested Spock's assistance in helping him collect appropriate kindling for the fireplaces. Jim had taken the lasersaw out of the toolshed, and they had gone out into the woods to find suitable downed trees for the purpose. Within a period of 2.3 hours, they had collected enough firewood to last them another week.

However, it was after completing this task, when they had come back inside the house and Mrs. Kirk had provided them with a tray of freshly baked cookies and hot tea out on the back porch, that Jim had begun again. He reached out and took hold of Spock's hand and started running his fingers over Spock's upturned palm.

Spock took in a staggering breath, calling for his ironclad controls that had rarely failed him in the past but which were seemingly teetering on the precipice of utter annihilation at the moment. "Jim, you are doing this on purpose."

"What?" Jim murmured, holding Spock's right hand in his grip as he ran the index finger of his other hand over the lines on Spock's palm. "Oh, touching your hand?" He sounded nonchalant. "Of course."

Why had Spock agreed to this again? "I asked you to-"

"-to show a little restraint. And I'm trying, Spock, I swear I am." His voice was full of laughter.

Spock huffed. "It does not look as though you are trying very hard." He closed his eyes as he endured a particularly erotic stroke across his index finger. He swallowed. "Jim, your mother is here."

"And she knows all about Vulcan hand kisses," Jim reminded Spock. "She pushed us into this thing, remember."

"That is true," Spock admitted. "However, I would ask you to show some self-control." Did Jim not know what touching Vulcan hands in this way truly meant? "You do realize this activity is essentially Vulcan foreplay."

Jim laughed. "Man, I had some idea, but I had no reason to ever hope you could ever get like this." It was apparent he was enjoying this on every level. "If only I'd known."

Spock frowned, trying to focus his mind on the spoken words rather than the tantalizing touch. "If you had known, what would you have done?"

"I would've... thrown caution to the wind and been the first one to proposition."

Spock felt puzzled. "I was not aware you had any feelings for me."

"Oh, I had plenty of feelings, my friend," Jim hummed. "I just didn't know you could be like this... or I would certainly have explored all other... options."

All other options. Besides touching Vulcan hands, he meant. Spock could show him other options. In fact, he could show him options that he was positive Jim had never even considered before, when they returned to the ship. "I do not think you have any idea what you are doing to me, Jim."

Jim chuckled. "That's okay. You can explain to me in detail when we go back to the ship."

And he would. He most definitely would.


His mother had started looking at them strangely.

Jim knew that look. It was the 'I know you're up to no good, kiddo' look Winona had worn every time Jim was about to do something stupid, or dangerous.

But this wasn't stupid. Although, maybe it was a little dangerous.

Jim knew he was ruffling some very fine feathers here. While he realized that Spock liked being touched, he could also feel that slight tremor of tension building in his lean frame every time Jim touched him. And how he loved touching him. It wasn't fucking fair, to be so close and yet so far. He wanted to not just touch Spock, but to wrap his arms around him. What was wrong with that? And it wasn't like Spock didn't want this, either.

He remembered that moment when he'd run his thumbnail along the inside of Spock's middle finger and had heard a gasp emit from the half-Vulcan's lips. Christ, how had he never noticed how beautiful this man was?

Touching Spock was like touching a large wild cat. It might let you pet it, but you can feel the growl build in every breath the creature takes as it waits, ready to pounce on you any moment.

That was how he felt with Spock when he touched him. Like the half-Vulcan was ready to pounce on him any moment. And that thought made him shiver in anticipation.


"I don't get this."

They were sitting in the living room after finishing dinner that night, the fireplace keeping the room warm and comfortable. Commander Kirk was upstairs, busy with some chores. Jim, for a change, was not physically touching Spock at the moment, which was both a relief and like a perplexing tug of emptiness at his core. Jim's touch brought about reactions at both extremes of the spectrum in him. He both loved it and hated it and wanted that touch to continue, while also wanting Jim to behave and respect his boundaries with his mother around.

Spock did not know how to analyze the illogic of his reactions. So he concentrated on the words instead. "What are you referring to?" he asked.

"You made plans to visit your mom's family in Ontario how long ago? At least three weeks in advance, right?" Jim sounded puzzled. "And it wasn't until the last minute that they told you they were not going to be there?"

He realized where this was going. "That is correct."

"You don't find that a little odd, Spock?"

It suddenly occurred to him he had never explained why the plans had been cancelled.

"They had a valid reason, Jim," he began. "It was a family emergency that called them on such short notice. My cousin's daughter from a previous marriage was injured in a mining accident on Kelton II. That was the reason why he and his wife had to leave immediately."

"Oh." Jim sounded surprised. "I heard about that accident."

"As did I," Spock replied. "I had not been aware she was settled in Kelton II, however."

"How's she doing?"

"My last communiqué with Andrew was a message I received yesterday when the comm link was reestablished; it was sent four days ago. He informed me that his daughter was recovering adequately."

"That's good," Jim replied.

But he did not sound fully convinced. There had been another part of Jim's initial query that Spock had not fully answered.

So he attempted now. "Jim, Andrew is on the supportive side of my mother's family. There are others, who are not so...welcoming."

Jim was quiet for a moment. "Those other cousins you were talking about?"

Spock inclined his head. "My mother had two brothers - one elder and one younger. My eldest uncle was very fond of her, and was supportive of her decision to marry a Vulcan."

He looked at Jim. "The younger one was not. Andrew is the first son of my eldest uncle. His other siblings are settled off-planet. They all communicate adequately with me. Both my uncles are deceased now."

Jim's eyes were somber. "What about your grandparents?"

"While they were alive, they stayed supportive," Spock replied. "My grandfather died when I was 4.2 standard years old. My grandmother died three years ago."

"I'm sorry."

Spock tilted his head. "What is, is."

"So... Andrew is the good guy?" Jim asked carefully.

"I have no doubt that my younger uncle's offspring too are 'good guys.' They simply do not seem to support... interspecies marriages."

"That doesn't come under my definition of good." Jim scowled. "They sound xenophobic."

"I have not seen them in many years, Jim" Spock looked at his friend. "It makes no difference."

Jim stared at him a moment and then smiled softly. "You're right. I guess, it doesn't."


The next morning, Jim found himself downstairs in the kitchen, whipping up an omelet for breakfast before anyone else had even gotten out of his or her room.

His mother was the first one to make her way downstairs. He hadn't had a chance to sit and talk to her for the past couple days, seeing as he'd had his hands kind of full lately. And he'd seen the looks she'd been giving him. He wondered how long it'd take her to jump on him.

She waited till she'd poured herself coffee before taking the plunge. "So... you and Spock, huh?"

Jim's heaved in a breath. "I really don't want to talk about this." Seriously. What was there to talk about anyways?

"What did I say?" She stared at him. "I'm just curious about my son's love life."

He rolled his eyes. "Which you've never shown interest in before."

"Hey, it's never too late to start. We said we were going for fresh starts."

"And we are, Mom." He sighed.

"So... you and Spock," she prodded again.

He felt exasperated. "What about us?"

"You're still sleeping separately."

"Christ, Mom." He stared at her in shock. "Yes, we are."

"Hmm." She raised a brow and watched him. She waited.

"Jeez." He huffed in a breath. "Spock wants to wait."

She frowned. "Wait? For what?"

Jim lowered his voice. "For us to get back to the ship."

She looked at him as if he was a lunatic. "What?"

He breathed out. "Yes. It's all very... logical."

"Logical."

"And I agree with that logic," he insisted

"Okay," she said slowly. "So what the hell you are waiting for?"

He frowned. "I just told you..."

She cut him off. "No, I mean... what the hell are you waiting for here? Go back! To the ship!"

Jim felt dumbfounded. "But..."

"Christmas is over." She looked at him. "Your vacations are almost over. You should go."

"But I thought you..." His sentence crumbled before it could finish forming completely.

She looked at him incredulously. "You're telling me you're sitting here getting a terminal case of blue balls on my account? "

"It's only two days left," Jim offered weakly.

"Exactly."

"Hmm." Jim picked up a piece of toast and took a bite. "Now that you put it that way."

And now that he thought of it, Spock hadn't said anything about wanting to stay here for all twelve days of down time. He was only doing that for Jim's sake. Spock had just told him he wanted to wait till they'd gone back to the ship before beginning any intimate relations. That could happen any time. That could have happened... two days ago. Jim suddenly wanted to beat his head against the wall.

"Tell him." His mother was smiling at him. "I'm sure he'll find it very logical."


He found Spock in the study just before lunch. He had an open volume of Shakespeare's Collections on his lap, which he seemed to be perusing intently.

However, the moment Jim rested a hand on his shoulder, he froze, sighed in deeply and snapped closed the book.

"It is no use."

Jim looked down at his face. "What is no use?"

"Meditation," Spock muttered. "I spent 6.5 hours last night trying to strengthen my mental shields. And after one touch of your hand upon my person, they have crumbled."

"So that's why you were so late for breakfast." Jim mused. He grinned. "You are aware I'm touching you through your clothes at the moment."

Spock sounded agitated. "Indeed."

Jim nodded; the situation truly had come to a head. He moved from behind Spock and took a seat in front of him. "So, I'm thinking - we should probably get back to the ship."

Spock looked at him contemplatively. "We still have two days left of our vacation."

Jim watched his eyes. "Yeah, but... I was just... curious about how all the repair work's coming along."

Spock raised a brow. "Is that what you are curious about?"

Jim stared at him and grabbed Spock's hand. "We really should get back. Really."

A furrow appeared between Spock's brows. "Do you not think you are being somewhat impatient?"

Jim groaned. "It's not my fault you've got me all hot and bothered."

Spock looked down at Jim's finger stroking his palm and tilted his head. "There is an irony in your statement, but I probably should not point it out."

"You can point it out all your want," Jim growled. "We should still get going."

Spock looked up at him. "What would your mother think?"

Jim sighed. "She's the one who made the suggestion."

That got Spock's attention. "I beg your pardon?"

Jim huffed out loudly. "She thinks we're crazy sitting here freezing our asses off, when we could be on the Enterprise fucking our brains out."

Spock look horrified. "Did she actually say-"

"Not in so many words, Spock, but the message was the same." Jim sighed. "She thinks we're nuts."

Spock assessed his words and probably the strangeness of the universe for approximately 12.5 seconds, and then straightened up on the seat. "Very well. When do we leave?"

Jim wanted to whoop with joy. He smiled. "In two hours."


As excited as he was about going back to the Enterprise, it was still hard saying goodbye to his mother.

Jim knew they'd made progress in the last few days. A lot of things he'd never understood in the past had suddenly become clear to him. His mother's difficulty with getting past his father's death, for one, and her obsession with the War Orphans program, for another, when she had a war orphan living right under her own roof. He knew they'd both punished themselves, and each other, for years.

But he knew he was ready to move beyond all those ghosts from the past. They'd both made a fresh start. He was happy about that.

He hugged her for a long time as they stood at the open door, the hovercar waiting for them. She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. Then she pulled back, looked between him and Spock and smiled impishly.

"My little boy is all grown up."

Jim wanted to smack his forehead. "Jesus, Mom."

But she was laughing. "Look how beautiful you two look."

"Mrs. Kirk." Even Spock sounded exasperated.

"Mom, shut up," Jim muttered.

"Okay, okay, fine." She grinned at them. "Now get out of here. Send me a postcard, you lovebirds."

"Don't listen to her," he told Spock, picking up his bags and moving out of the door. "She's out of her mind."

She patted Spock on his arm. "Bye boys."

"Good bye, Mrs. Kirk," Spock replied with a polite nod.

Jim smiled. "Bye, Mom."

Spock joined him on the driveway. Jim looked at him a long moment, then opened the hovercar door. They put their bags in the back seat and Jim got into the driver's seat, Spock joining him on the passenger side.

Jim waved at his mother once as he pulled the car out, and then they were headed back to the base.


Apparently, they weren't the only ones willing to forego the last two days of their vacation to come back to the ship early.

Jim was surprised to find Scotty manning the transporter when they beamed back home. The engineer looked a little harried as he jumped up from his seat and came out from behind the console.

"Thank goodness you and the Commander are back, Captain." He looked somewhat comical, standing there with his eyes widened in sheer horror. "You won't believe what these buggers are doing to my engines."

Jim looked at Spock in consternation as he got grabbed and herded towards the door. The half-Vulcan followed them at a more sedate pace, one slanted brow raised in what appeared to be amusement.

"Scotty, I just got back," Jim tried to protest. "I still have my bags with me."

"Not a problem, Captain." Scotty signaled the security officer standing at attention inside the doors, and the ensign promptly came forward to take the captain's bags from his hands. "Now that that's taken care of, you must come with me at once." He looked at Spock. "You should probably check out the Botany Lab, Commander. I heard there was a slight mishap with the environmental controls last night."

Jim watched the raised brow twitch at this news. "Indeed?"

"Aye." The engineer nodded. "The gravitational field in cubicle 14 failed. I think one of Sulu's rare plants bit the dust."

Jim groaned. Man, it was good to be back.


It took three hours of deliberations, mediations, and consolations to calm Scotty down and bring the chaos in engineering down to manageable levels. He was having problems with every single one of the replacement engineers working in his department, insisting that they were a conspiracy. They were hell-bent on running down his engines, the power relays in the secondary support systems were being rewired the wrong way, and the dilithium reactor was making a noise he'd never bloody well heard in his life. And, on top of that, they'd even dismantled his still, which did not actually exist on the ship's blueprints, and yet which, according to him, had worked part-time as a power generation unit and was a viable engineering section and should not have been messed with.

Jim had to argue and confer with three sets of engineers. He didn't know whether it was the power of his influence, or the fact that Scotty was threatening to throw the other two guys into the antimatter chamber, but he finally prevailed and the chaos was brought under control. He even made sure the dismantled still would be refitted and added to the blueprints as specialized tertiary backup power generator unit.

Scotty stopped yelling after that and Jim breathed a sigh of relief. He'd made a call earlier to the Botany Lab and Spock seemed to have things well in hand.

By the time he got to his quarters and stepped into the shower, Jim was about ready to fall down face first into bed and pass out for the night. However, after five minutes under the hot water, his senses started to wake up, slowly but surely. The water beat down over his head, running down his body in rivulets and it felt as if all the tension he had accumulated in the last few hours was melting from his bones and swirling down the drain at his feet.

He closed his eyes and remembered the last ten days in Riverside. He remembered the Vulcan kiss under the mistletoe; the way Spock kept his face impassive but could not help the slow blush that spread across his cheeks when Jim murmured something sexy. By the time he got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his hips, he was whistling. He quickly dried himself and got into a comfortable t-shirt and cotton drawstring pants—relaxing clothes.

He was munching on an apple and sipping from a glass of juice when his door chimed. He looked at the chronometer. It was just after nine. He threw the apple core in the recycler, put his empty glass on the table and pressed the door panel, which opened to reveal the object of his considerations.

"Hey, Spock," Jim greeted him with a smile as he looked his friend up and down. Spock had changed and dressed in his off-duty clothes of choice: a plain black t-shirt and trousers, which had always made him look good enough to eat. While Jim had never before thought of Spock in exactly those terms, it was intriguing how he'd always appreciated his dressing sense. "I trust the disaster was averted?"

Spock looked closely at him, his dark brown eyes intent on his face. "I do not know if 'averted' is an appropriate word to use in this instance. Perhaps... 'contained' would be a more logical choice."

"Ah; 'contained.'" Jim chuckled. "That's what I've been doing all evening. That'll have to do for now." He stepped back from the door. "Come on in."

Spock stepped inside and the door closed behind him.

Jim turned to pick up the glass and suddenly wondered if Spock had eaten dinner or not. He turned to his friend. "Did you want to eat anyth-"

The words died in his mouth when he saw the look on Spock's face. It was the look of a great big cat about to pounce on its prey.

Then Spock stepped forward until he was standing right in his space, put a hand on Jim's chest and pressed him into the wall next to the door. Then, that beautiful cupid's bow mouth descended and was suddenly pressed against his, and a wet tongue was licking at the seam of his mouth. There was no point in engaging his higher brain functions after that.

Jim closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and moaned as that sexy as sin mouth slanted sideways and kissed Jim into oblivion. Spock's lips were hot and soft and hard and dry and somehow wet all at the same time. Jim didn't realize his hands were caught in a strong grip until he made a move to wrap them around Spock's shoulders and found Spock was holding them in his hands on both sides of his head.

He moaned in protest. He wanted to touch him, he wanted to hold him. But rather than giving him any leeway, Spock slid a leg between Jim's and pressed even closer, making Jim shudder as he felt a long, hard thigh slide against his erection which was suddenly ready to burst out of his pants.

He groaned, but that hot Vulcan mouth was merciless against Jim's, the soft but firm lips sliding over and over his open mouth - first the upper lip, then the lower - as that probing tongue slid between his teeth and tangled with his own. Jim tried to thrust against the hard body, needing friction for his cock, but Spock's grip was too strong, and it only made Jim writhe in frustration.

He moaned against Spock's lips, and then moaned again, this time in disappointment, as Spock suddenly lifted his mouth from his. Jim opened his eyes and stared into Spock's, which were darkened with lust. His gaze slid to Spock's mouth and he shuddered when he saw it glistening with saliva.

"Spock, c'mon," he sighed, and, in answer, Spock adjusted the grip of both his hands, lifted them over his head and then holding Jim's hands clutched in his grasp, he shifted the grip to one hand only so that he had his other hand free. Then, keeping his eyes locked with Jim's, he slid his free hand into Jim's hair, stroking his fingers through the still-wet strands, rubbing the pads against the skin of his scalp. "Mmm, yeah," Jim murmured, closing his eyes, and he yelped when he felt teeth gnawing against his chin. "Spock," he moaned as he felt the teeth nibble down the line of his throat, writhing against the hard Vulcan body pressing into him, with both his hands gripped against the wall in a firm hold.

He panted as he felt Spock's tongue sliding up his throat, his lips pressing hot kisses along the same path interspersed with teasing nibbles, as his cock twitched achingly hard against the confines of his clothes. Then the fingers in his hair curled into a fist and he felt his hair gripped with sharp tug as his eyes snapped open and he stared into Spock's sparkling gaze.

"Please," he murmured, and then Spock had pressed fully against his body, his own hardness poking Jim in his stomach through two layers of clothing, as he tilted Jim's head with his hand and slid his mouth against Jim's again. The kiss was hard and scorching and beautiful and agonizing. It was all teeth and tongues and gorgeous fucking lips killing him and kissing him and devouring him and tantalizing him with their licks and nips and swipes and oh god the heat and the pressure was going to be the end of him.

It took him a few seconds to realize his hands had suddenly been let go and the pressure on his scalp had been removed. That was when he noticed the two warm Vulcan hands cupping his face now, Spock rubbing his thumbs against Jim's cheeks as he kissed him over and over and fucking over, until Jim was all but thrusting into the little gap between their bodies, his arms tight around Spock's body and thrusting against Spock's thighs, and moaning because it was not enough, not fucking enough. And then Spock was dragging his lips across Jim's cheek and swiping his tongue into the whorl of Jim's right ear, all the while rubbing his body languidly against Jim's.

When he suddenly bit into the soft skin of the earlobe, Jim yelled and felt his cock erupt inside his pants. With a long drawn-out moan, he shuddered and shook and panted for a few seconds, the aftershocks wracking his frame, and he would've folded to the ground if it weren't for Spock's arms sliding around him, holding him in place.

Jim pressed his face into Spock's neck and willed his heartbeat to come down from the galloping speed as he felt Spock's hands rubbing his back gently. After a moment, he straightened up and looked at Spock, who looked far too self-satisfied for his liking.

Spock's voice was gravelly and hot like fuck as he murmured, "I believe that is how humans... kiss?"

Jim laughed, his own voice sounding shaky to his ears. "I don't think I know any humans who kiss quite like that, Spock."

Spock raised one slanted brow as his hands continued to move over his back, softly, gently. "Are you saying this was not a satisfactory demonstration?"

"Oh, it was satisfactory, all right," Jim hummed as he felt himself melt into the slow strokes. He leaned forward to brush his lips against those other, tantalizing ones. "More than satisfactory."

He smiled. "I also believe you make a very hot smug bastard, Spock."

Spock looked at him. "Such a title is illogical. I assure you both my parents were married at the time I was conceived."

"Mmmmm okay." Jim bit at Spock's chin. "And I must inform you that I just came in my pants."

"Is that another complaint, Jim?" Spock asked as he slowly thrust his hips against Jim's and Jim realized he was still hard. Oh fuck!

"Nnnngh." He groaned. "My pants, Spock. I came in my pants. I just got dressed... fifteen minutes ago."

"Perhaps, you should not have bothered dressing," Spock murmured into his ear. "However, that oversight can be remedied immediately."

Jim sighed, sagging further into Spock's arms "Yeah?"

Suddenly Spock froze, his hand stilled. Jim looked up into his eyes questioningly.

"If you wish for me to stop," Spock said slowly, his eyes serious, "please say so right now."

"Stop?" Jim looked at him in confusion. "What the hell are you...?" He felt baffled. "Are you cra-"

Spock cut him off as if that answer was satisfactory enough, "Very well!"

And then Jim was gripped firmly and walked purposefully out of the living room and into his bedroom where he was deposited, without much fanfare, onto the bed. He looked up at Spock hovering above him and grinned happily.

"That was fast."

Spock leaned over him, his eyes wandering the plains of Jim's face interestingly. "Your lips turn a most enticing color after they have been... kissed in the human way," he noted.

Jim reached for him. "Which is a clue for you to resume kissing me immediately."

Spock gripped Jim's hands and held them over his head. "I will remove your clothes now." His dark eyes probed Jim lustfully.

God, that look on his face. Jim couldn't get over how hot his sober, controlled First Officer could be. "Nnngh yeah; my pants first, Spock."

Spock let go off his hands, gripped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head and off, throwing it to the side. "Cease talking."

"Please," Jim murmured as Spock rubbed his fingers lightly down Jim's chest, then gripped his hips in his hands for a moment, his eyes roaming Jim's body, before pulling the drawstring pants down and off his body. He watched Spock's gaze slide down to his spent cock and felt it twitch at the heat in those eyes.

Then Spock stood up, keeping his eyes on Jim's face as he took off first his shirt, then his trousers, leaving only the black briefs on. Jim groaned when he saw the outline of Spock's erection tenting the fabric.

Then Spock was sliding on top of him and gripping his hands once more as he leaned down to slot his lips against Jim's again. Jim lost himself in the sweetness and passion of the kiss, Spock's tongue picking up where it had left off as the firm mouth rubbed against his. The lips opened and closed around his with calculated precision, the firmness and the wetness of their contact making Jim hard once more.

When Spock lifted his mouth from his, Jim could see the blood darkening the skin of his neck and his face enticingly and he thrust against Spock's body, feeling the hot, hard length of Spock's cock pressing into his thigh through the briefs.

"Please - I want to touch you," he said, looking deeply into Spock's eyes, and, after a moment, Spock relented, his eyes soft, his mouth curved into a gentle smile.

"You may," he murmured as he let go of Jim's hands and slid his own hands around Jim's waist as he lowered his mouth to Jim's sternum, kissing gently, his tongue lapping at the skin as Jim arched at the touch.

Jim ran his hands down Spock's back, feeling the strong muscles moving as Spock slid down his chest, gently biting, kissing, nipping, licking at his nipples, his chest muscles, his stomach, with Jim writhing in absolute bliss. "Fuck, Spock," Jim groaned, as he felt Spock kissing down his stomach, then along his hipbones, before he nuzzled into Jim's swiftly awakening cock. "Fuck! " Jim cried as Spock took the glistening head into his warm, wet mouth, as his hand slid down to grip the base firmly, his tongue expertly and purposefully cleaning up the ejaculate from the last time.

By the time he was through, Jim was achingly hard again and Spock was gripping and spreading Jim's thighs firmly. Before he knew what was happening, Spock had taken one of Jim's testicles into his mouth, his catlike tongue bathing first one, then the other, making them thoroughly wet, as Jim writhed, groaning wantonly. Oh God, that felt too fucking good.

Then that mouth was moving even lower and at the first swipe of Spock's tongue against his hole, Jim made a sound he had never heard come out of his mouth as his hands scrabbled for purchase and then settled on Spock's head, the fingers sliding into the silky, soft strands. Jesus Fucking Christ. Spock repeated the action, once, twice, then again, and again, until Jim could feel his cock twitching against his stomach, leaking precum profusely, as his hole twitched against the insistent tongue. "Please," he begged, "please."

Spock slid up Jim's body, his mouth looking bruised and beautiful and his eyes fucking glittering in the low light of the bedroom. "Fuck," Jim moaned as he gripped Spock's arms and pulled him up so that he could kiss him thoroughly. Fucking fuck. He moaned at the taste of his own essence on Spock's tongue. "C'mere," he murmured as he kissed that beautiful mouth. "Please, just..."

His hand slid down Spock's chest, rubbing through the thatch of soft curly hair covering his chest and abdomen, then down to Spock's hips where his fingers scratched at the hem of his briefs. God, he wanted Spock naked now. Fuck.

Apparently, Spock had the same idea, as he suddenly twisted and turned and pulled one knee up, and then, with a kick of his legs had pulled his briefs down and off. He turned to Jim, his breathing hard. "Where is the..."

He kissed Jim hard, then pressed his hips against Jim, his cock sliding hot and hard and dripping wet against his stomach, and Jim suddenly knew what he wanted.

He gripped Spock's arms with one hand and pointed to the bedside table. "In there."

Spock leaned over and opened the drawer, finding the condoms and lube. Then he straightened up on his knees and watching Jim's face intently, gripped his legs, spread them open, and then pulled them up and over his shoulders. Jim didn't know when he opened the lube – only that a long lubed finger was suddenly pressing against his hole and rubbing gently, but firmly. He was already wet and a little loose from Spock's oral ministrations earlier, so when the finger slid inside, he barely grunted, just watched Spock's face as the finger gently loosened him. One finger became two, and two became three, and Jim found himself thrusting into the digits, groaning loudly, his chest heaving, his cock twitching.

Spock pulled his fingers out, pulled on the condom over his beautiful long cock, slicked himself up with more lube, and was pressing into him.

Jim moaned as he felt himself stretch around the head, breathing in hard as Spock slid into him completely, feeling his balls resting against his ass. He waited a second or two, and then pulled out and slid in again, the stretch burning Jim from the inside out.

He ran his hands up Spock's chest, scratching at the hair, tweaking his dusky nipples, and marveling at the hard, lean, masculine lines before him as he jerked his hips back up at him, crying out at the perfect feeling of fullness. Then Spock leaned down and lined his lips against Jim's again.

Jim didn't know whether it was the twist of his movement or if Spock had angled his downward thrust differently, but Jim suddenly felt that familiar spark as his prostate was touched and he yelled, clutching at Spock as he shuddered at the sensation. "God," he panted as Spock gripped his face and kissed him again, as he fucked into him, harder, faster, his eyes shimmering. He repeated that angle, over and over, rendering Jim completely incoherent as he felt his whole body shaking and shuddering at the onslaught of ecstasy.

Spock looked so fucking beautiful like this. Jim watched the play of muscles as his body moved, the thickly furred chest expanding and contracting with every breath, his throat working, his wide, strong shoulders shifting as he leaned down to press his mouth against Jim's again. Spock's hips slammed into him repeatedly, filling Jim with his thickness, the sweat rolling down Jim's body as he felt his whole body trembling against Spock's.

"Jim," he heard Spock moan as he wound his arms around him, scratching at his back, his nails digging into his skin as he leaned up to kiss along Spock's throat, feeling his pulse throbbing faster than anything he'd even felt. He felt the tremors in Spock's limbs as he slammed into Jim, his face twisted in concentration, his throat swallowing, his teeth biting into his lower lip.

And then he saw Spock's eyes roll back in his head as his mouth fell open, a groan emitting from the back of his throat, and the movements of his hips became faster, jerkier and Jim moaned at the sight of absolute abandon on Spock's face, as his own orgasm hit and a harsh cry erupted from his mouth, his cock pulsing out streams of cum, his vision blacking out for a moment.

When he came back to his senses, Spock was collapsed on top of him and Jim's legs were wrapped around his waist. They both lay together like that for a few moments, as they regained their breathing. Then, with a sigh, Spock moved and carefully pulled out as he rolled to the side, disposing of the condom. Jim was still in a hazy place, his limbs filled with the delicious ache of a hard, fast fuck that he knew he would remember for days, when he felt Spock slide out of his arms and go somewhere. Before he could protest, though, his heart thumping in his chest, Spock was back and Jim blearily opened his eyes when he felt a warm cloth rub against his groin, cleaning him gently.

Then Spock was pulling down the covers and shifting Jim so that he was somehow under the covers and Spock was there with him, and all Jim could do was murmur, "Thanks," and throw his arms around the warm, hard body, squeezing him close.

"Sleep, Jim," he heard Spock whisper.

"Stay," Jim murmured.

"I am not going anywhere," he heard him reply.

And then, Jim fell asleep.


Spock came to wakefulness slowly, aware that he was not in his quarters, but in the captain's bed.

He let the memories of the previous night wash over him, and, in the silence of the early hour, with the warm, sated human wrapped around him, he allowed himself a small smile of contentment.

He did not need a mindmeld to know his human was completely contented with the proceedings of their night together. There was a hum of satisfaction permeating Jim's whole body, his limbs loose with a happy laziness, his resting mind at utter ease as he burrowed into Spock's embrace. The abandon with which Jim had given himself to Spock last night filled him with a sense of protectiveness he had never felt before. Yes, he had always felt the need to protect his shipmate, his comrade, and his friend, but what he was feeling right now made his insides clench with a sense of possessiveness and need and a suffusion of sweltering emotions he had only allowed himself to feel in the solitude of his thoughts.

The ache of watching his friend in pain, even if that pain had been due to things in the past, made his jaw clench with a need to destroy anyone who dared to lay a finger on his human. Never again, he vowed to himself. Never again would he allow anyone to hurt his k'diwa like that. Not as long as he lived.

He tightened his hold around the human, pressing his lips into the juncture of his neck and shoulders, and kissed softly. A few moments later, he felt Jim stir, and, as he came to wakefulness, the human burrowed even deeper into Spock's arms, the strong limbs tangling with his own enticingly. Spock pressed a kiss into Jim's forehead and felt the languid smile spread on the human's face as he nuzzled into Spock's neck.

After a moment, Jim lifted his head and Spock found himself looking into bright blue eyes that were completely awake. A smile crinkled the skin around the eyes and the corners of his lips twitched. "Hey, Spock."

"Good morning, Jim," he murmured as Jim leaned in to kiss him softly, his hands rubbing over Spock's sides soothingly.

"So last night wasn't a dream. It really happened," Jim sighed. "How did I get to be so lucky, huh?"

Spock did not know how to answer that, the skin to skin contact of Jim's body sliding against his had permeated his senses with a pleasant buzz of satisfaction. "Jim," was all he could say as he felt cool hands caressing the skin of his abdomen, the lithe fingers entangling into the fine hair found there.

Jim nuzzled his neck a moment, dropping kisses haphazardly, then looked up into Spock's eyes.

"God, you're so beautiful," he breathed. A crooked smile twisted his lips. "I must commend you, Mr. Spock. Last night was the most amazing sex I've ever had."

Spock ran his hands up Jim's back to his neck, then slid his fingers into the soft, curly hair that looked perplexingly endearing, despite standing up in all directions in the most ridiculous way. "Flattery, Captain," he murmured, "will get you everywhere."

"Everywhere?" Jim looked at him interestedly. His eyes flashed with mischief. "How about a turn at your delectable ass then?"

Everywhere, Spock thought. Anything and everything. Whatever Jim wanted was his. He was Jim's, just as Jim was his. Forever.

But Spock did not say any of that, for he knew it was too soon for these words. Instead, he leaned back into the warm covers, and let his limbs fall open invitingly as he laid back languidly, his eyes locking with Jim's in a heated gaze. "Very well," he murmured, knowing that hint of a smile was visible on his lips. "You may do with me as you wish."

Jim watched him intently, his eyes dancing, the color on his face rising exponentially as the rate of his breathing increased. Spock watched him lick his lips and the smile widened. "Now you're talking," he growled as he leaned down, gripped Spock's arms in his hands, and pressed their lips together.


"What are we going to tell Sulu?"

It was nighttime and they were in the commissary for dinner. There was a buzz of activity around as the crew slowly but steadily returned to the ship. Chekov had returned this afternoon, while Sulu and Uhura were due back tomorrow – just in time for the New Years party being arranged in the main rec room. Jim had heard from Bones an hour ago, saying he was returning tonight as well, so he was probably either back already or was just about to beam back.

Spock picked up the tray and filled it with his choice of dishes. "Do not be concerned, Jim. We were able to save three specimens of the Forgassia Pitcher Plant."

"We were?" Jim picked up a bowl of fruit and grabbed a sandwich from the pile. "That's a relief."

"Indeed."

They made their way to their table and settled down. Jim had just taken a bite when he noticed McCoy walk in. He waved his friend over and watched as the doctor walked over to their table, looking fresh and relaxed.

"Bones, how was the vacation?" he asked as the doctor joined them at their table, nodding at them both in greeting. "Grab some food."

"I've already eaten." McCoy shook his head, a happy smile on his face. "And my vacation was great. Joanna was asking about you." The mention of his daughter made even Mr. Grumpy happy.

McCoy paused then looked closely at Jim. "What's up with you?"

"Me?" Jim grinned. "I'm fabulous."

McCoy looked at him strangely for a moment. Then his eyes moved to Jim's throat, and Jim suddenly realized what he was looking at - the hickey from last night, when Spock had enthusiastically made him come in his pants standing next to the door.

"Is that... is that what I think it is?" McCoy sounded disturbed. "Didn't you... go home for Christmas?"

"Yeah." Jim shrugged. "What? Can't I score some while I'm home?"

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Honestly? I don't want to know."

Jim's eyebrows waggled. "Are you sure?" He felt Spock straighten up in his seat. Well, tough shit - it was his fault the hickey showed. He could've used his regenerator to heal it, but Jim suspected his lover liked that little mark of possession showing on his body.

Jim knew what that felt like; he'd left several such marks on Spock this morning, and then again in the afternoon. And then again, just a couple of hours ago, after Spock had returned from the gym, looking deliciously disheveled. It wasn't his fault he couldn't get enough of his First Officer. Next time, though, he'd be sure to leave a mark in a place where it was visible for the world to see.

"Positive," McCoy said, his nose scrunched up in disgust. "Keep your dirty secrets to yourself."

Jim picked up his sandwich and took a bite. "That's okay," he said nonchalantly as he swallowed. "I only went with Spock."

McCoy started, a frown on his face. "Spock."

"Umm hmm."

Bones must have seen something on his face because his eyes suddenly widened - with horror. "Spock?" He looked between the two of them. His mouth dropped open.

"Don't look so shocked." Jim smiled widely. "It was quite spectacular."

"Jim." Spock heaved in a breath.

"What? It's just Bones." Jim looked at him. "He'll find out at our next physicals anyhow."

Spock looked at him with infinite patience, his eyes amused, and then turned to Bones who was still gaping at them quite comically. "Doctor, perhaps you should close your mouth before... something flies into it."

"Yeah," Jim snorted, then frowned as he turned to Spock. "Do we have flies on the Enterprise?"

Spock glanced at him. "No, we do not."

"Okay." He looked at his First Officer seriously. "The next Amazon planet we stop at, remind me to order up some flies. We can breed them in the Science lab." He chuckled as he turned to Bones who was now glaring at them both. "For occasions like this."

With a growl, Bones snapped shut his mouth. "Oh, shut up." His nostrils were flaring and his mood looked thoroughly ruined.

Spock looked inordinately pleased as he sipped his tea.

Jim smiled. This was going to be so much fun.


The next morning he got a message from his mom saying Headquarters had called both her and Watson for another debriefing. He messaged back with a good luck wish, keeping his fingers crossed that everything would work out for her.

The rest of the crew slowly trickled back during the day and it was during the New Years Party held that night, that he handed his holocamera to Chekov and dragged Spock to stand with him in front of the viewport for a nice shot. He could see Bones scowling in a corner, and Uhura giving them a baffled look from the other side of the room, but Chekov was all exuberant smiles and innocent encouragement as he asked them to "stand a little closer, Kommander", making Jim crack up unabashedly.

When the shot was taken, he turned to Spock, who was giving him a look, and shrugged. "What? It's for my mom."

Spock only raised his brows before acquiescing, but Jim could see the corners of his lips twitch, and knew that was all the emotion Spock would show in public.

But that was okay, he mused. No one but Bones had any clue what Spock had become to him over the course of the last ten days, and even he really didn't know the hows and the whys. But these were all their friends – their family. They would find out eventually, and when they did, they would be happy for both of them. He just knew it. Even Bones would be. They'd have to be. He wouldn't have it any other way.

He had the most perfect man in the quadrant standing next to him. He felt like he could conquer the universe. With Spock by his side, he could accomplish anything.

With a smile, he led Spock into the crowd and joined his friends and crew in welcoming in the New Year.

THE END