Gravity (Chapter II)
Title: Gravity
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Length: 3,316 (this part)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Summary: Kirk and Spock, from hatred to ambivalence. From aquaintances to friends. From best friends to lovers. All of the trials and tribulations in between. Starting right from the very beginning, all of the awkward moments and long silences included.
Notes:
Chapter One can be found here. Please go there for the ridiculously long author's not explaining the origins of this story =).
Chapter Two
The next thing he had to do, Jim was dreading. But it had to be done. It was just...he hadn’t called his mother in almost a year. Had barely spoken to her before that except to tell her that he was enlisting and then again last year to keep her up to date (“I haven’t died, been discharged or gotten anyone pregnant, mom”). But this felt like a pretty big deal, and she had probably heard of the whole Nero Incident on the news by now anyway. She probably figured, as he had, that he’d be crawling back home any day now, having been kicked out. Only he wasn’t going to be doing that, he thought happily, grin on his face again as he punched in the number. Unfortunately, it wasn’t his mother that picked up, it was Frank, and Jim felt his smile drop off his face as the man’s face filled the screen.
“Is mom home?” he asked before Frank had an opportunity to say anything.
“Yeah,” he said roughly, “Saw your face on the news.”
“I’ll bet you did. Now can you get Mom please?”
Begrudgingly he put Jim on hold, obviously going to find her. It took five full minutes of waiting for her to finally answer - were it not for the blinking “HOLD” written across the screen, he would have assumed that he had been hung up on. When she did, she looked weary, as if she’d been waiting for him to call with some bad news, “Hi Jim.”
“Hey mom. Got some news for you,” the smile was back, even though he could see Frank hovering there in the periphery of the screen, “I got promoted.”
Her facial expression changed immediately, brightening, “So you’re officially an officer now! My little Jimmy, an officer of the fleet! So, are you an Ensign? Or did they put you all the way up to Lieutenant for saving Earth?”
“Actually, I’m a Captain.”
She didn’t reply, her eyes perfectly round in shock. He smiled, feeling proud of himself, “Captain of Starfleet’s flagship, the Enterprise.”
There was another long bout of silence, and Jim felt his heart sink slightly as his mother’s expression changed, “Don’t try and kid me, Jim,” she said, relaxing as she seemed to realise that he was joking, “So, when will you be home?”
He wasn’t having any of this, “I don’t have time to come home. I’m sure we’ll be shipping out as soon as the Enterprise is repaired, and I’ve got a lot of administrative things to do before then.”
“Jim, please don’t do this,” she sighed, looking sad. He felt anger flickering in his stomach.
“Mom, I’m Captain of the Enterprise. Believe what you like, I just thought I’d call you and tell you before you find out from the television. I guess I shouldn’t have, huh?”
“I’m sorry, but you suddenly being promoted from Cadet right up to Captain with no field experience just seems a little implausible. Not only that, but Captain of the Flagship? I’m not an idiot, Jim. I know you think I am, but I’m not. If you want a room at home here, you’re always welcome, but don’t call me and lie to me,” there were tears in her eyes, he noted, and yes, maybe he’d been a fuck-up for most of his life, but did that mean she couldn’t believe anything he said? When he called her with such an honest expression across his face, sincere pride and happiness, she couldn’t believe that he might actually be telling the truth?
“I didn’t believe it either, Mom. But there you go. Bones and I are gonna go celebrate now. I’ll see you in five years, when the Enterprise gets back.” He hung up, not wanting to hear any more of it. He knew he had been a terrible son. He had. Maybe it was just better if they didn’t talk. She could have her life with that asshole Frank, and he could have his with his beautiful Starship. It would have been nice to have a little support, but he was sure that his promotion would be on the 6’o’clock news tomorrow anyway.
Standing, he stripped off his stiff academy uniform and started rummaging through his closet for something clean to wear. He didn’t really have any sort of style in his civilian clothes, and so it was a relatively simple matter to pull out two random pieces of clothing and put them on. He was just struggling into a t-shirt that seemed a little too tight - had this shrunk in the dryer or something? - when his door buzzer went. Probably Bones, he thought, wandering over with his shirt still tangled around his head and shimmying into it as he hit the open button. “Bones, what are you bothering me about now, you just saw me twenty minutes ago!”
It wasn’t Bones. It was Spock, who looked on impassively as Jim yanked down his shirt to cover his stomach, “Oh,” he said, feeling a little like he’d had the rug pulled out from under him, “Hi Spock.”
“Good afternoon, Cadet Kirk” replied the Vulcan coolly, “May I have a moment of your time?”
“Of course!” he stuttered, surprised, and gestured him inside. Spock stepped in, immediately looking out of place in the half-messy room. As much as it bothered Jim, he couldn’t bring himself to clean Paul’s side of the room, “Do you want to sit down?” he only had the one chair, over by his desk. Paul’s had clothes stacked on it, and he wasn’t touching those.
“No, thank you,” said Spock, “This will not take long.”
“Oh,” he said, sinking down onto his bed, looking up at the Vulcan who was doing an impressive job of looking blankly tense. His spine was rigid but his face was impassive, features soft and expressionless.
“I have heard of your promotion,” said Spock, “I wished to congratulate you.”
“Why?” the word was out of Jim’s mouth before he could stop it.
“I was under the impression that this was typical of human culture -- to congratulate one’s peers when they have achieved something.” Spock tilted his head ever so slightly, “As it was the result of a shared endeavour that you were promoted, I felt obligated to come and extend my congratulations.”
“I wouldn’t have been offended if you hadn’t,” Jim felt awkward around Spock, and it was safe to say that this was because he had provoked him into almost killing him, “I know we’re not exactly friends.” Spock’s expression didn’t change so Jim continued, “Look, I just want to apologize for my behaviour on the ship. It’s just...I felt that what you were doing was wrong. I felt that if I didn’t do everything I could, we were gonna die. Not just us...everyone on Earth. I couldn’t let that happen. So I did what I thought I had to do. I’m sorry that I had to behave so horribly to you.”
“Logical,” said Spock, “The end results suggest that you took the correct course of action. And of course, if you believed that this was so, it made sense for you to act in whatever way necessary to ensure that it was taken.”
That wasn’t “apology accepted,” noted Jim. That was “I understand why you did it.”
“I shall try to attend your ceremony,” said Spock, pulling Jim out of thought, “Although should I not be there, I would like for you to know that I expect you to take your post seriously and attempt to keep the Enterprise and its crew safe.”
Jim smirked, “Worried about Uhura?” Spock didn’t respond to that, so it was safe to say that that was true, “You know, if you apply to a position on the Enterprise, I’ll definitely sign the papers. In fact,” he leant forward, looking up at Spock seriously, “I’ll make you first officer. I can’t think of anyone better to have by my side.”
“I appreciate the offer,” he didn’t sound appreciative, “But I shall not be applying for berth aboard the Enterprise, as I plan to resign from Starfleet.”
Jim’s heart dropped, “Why? Not because of me?”
“No, I would not resign due to a relationship with any particular Starfleet personnel, whether good or bad. I am resigning to help rebuild my race.”
Oh, of course. His planet was gone. It was hard to remember that Vulcan had been destroyed. He remembered learning about it in second grade, the first aliens Earth had ever made contact with. It had been such a central part of the Federation. But still. “Spock, you shouldn’t resign because you’re expected to! You should do what you want to do!”
“I wish to resign,” said Spock, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.
“I don’t think you do,” Jim stood, “If you wanted to be with Vulcans, you never would have left your planet. I think being in Starfleet is exactly what you want to do. Don’t resign just because you feel like you need to!”
Spock frowned, a tiny line appearing in the middle of his flawless forehead, “I do need to. My planet was destroyed. My people need my help.”
“They didn’t need you before!” He clapped a hand over his mouth as that slipped out. Spock’s gaze darkened ever so slightly, “I mean, look. Spock, I’m sorry, but I can’t help but feel that this isn’t something you want to do. I really truly believe that you belong in Starfleet. I mean, obviously, it’s none of my business, but--”
“No,” interrupted Spock, “It is none of your business. Please stay out of it.”
He turned and walked swiftly to the door, intercepted by Jim at the last second, “Spock. Do what’s best for you, not what’s best for everyone else. I’ll be expecting you on the Enterprise on departure day. I’ll save the First Officer position for you.”
“That will not be necessary,” began the Vulcan, but Jim just gave him his most steadfast look.
“I’ll save it for you,” he insisted as Spock nodded to him in farewell and stalked off down the hallway.
//
Jim spent the remainder of his afternoon reading up on the duties and responsibilities of Captains. He had difficulty keeping his mind off Spock, and his thoughts kept drifting to how he could convince Spock to join his crew. He wasn’t even sure why he wanted Spock on his team so badly, but he did. Maybe it was his impressive record. Maybe it was the fact that he had been one of Captain Pike’s most trusted officers. Or maybe it was that old man he’d met on an ice planet a couple of days ago. He’d said they were friends. The greatest of friends. And Jim didn’t think he was lying. Emotional transference was a side effect of the meld, after all. He had certainly felt the relief, the joy, the love that the older Spock had felt for him. It had streamed out through the meld, a beautiful mixture of emotion to juxtapose the unbelievable sorrow pouring into him.
He was broken out of thought by his door buzzer again, and stood, assuming it was his best friend, here to begin a night of getting shit-faced. In fact, it wasn’t Bones (again), but Sulu and Scotty, the Asian holding out a hand with an eyebrow raised.
Jim laughed, “I guess I do owe you. How did you know anyway?”
“One thing you’ll learn when I’m working on the Enterprise with you - I know everything,” said Sulu, pocketing Jim’s money when he handed it to him, “Everything about everyone. So I hear we’re celebrating tonight?”
“That’s why I’m here,” explained Scotty with a shrug, “We’re going to get you drunk off your arse.”
“Not too drunk!” Jim protested, “I have a ceremony tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll fix you up before the ceremony,” Bones had apparently arrived and was raring to go. Well, he was scowling, which meant raring-to-go in Bones-expressions, “Which bar are we going to?”
“Jim’s choice,” said Sulu, and Jim was sorely tempted to pick a gay bar or something, just to spite him, “I’m good with anywhere.”
“Astrid’s,” decided Jim. It was always crowded and the booze was cheap, never mind that it was a bit dirty and the decor left something to be desired. No one seemed to have any objections though and they set off. It was a relatively uneventful walk over there, and the bar was, as expected, dirty and crowded. Bones “claimed” a booth by standing next to it looking scary until the previous patrons abandoned it. The other three men then proceeded to sit Jim there and methodically feed drinks to him, one after another until the whole room was spinning and the blonde felt like he was on top of the world, “I just got promoted to Captain!” he announced from his position standing on the table, and a rousing cheer went up among the other people in the bar.
Bones and Scotty began a drinking contest, which Jim watched with great enthusiasm, unable to decide for whom to cheer. So he cheered for both, much to Bones’ annoyance and Scotty’s delight. He wasn’t sure who won, because he left half-way through, suddenly feeling a powerful urge to dance. Dancing went well. He found some lovely women to grind against. One of them had the greatest hips known to mankind, and he didn’t want to take his hands off them, only he was still tired and sore from his intergalactic adventures. His ribs were screaming at him by the time he gave up and headed back to the table. When he got back, Sulu was chewing on chicken wings and offered him some, which he took and began to eat, only to realise that they were really fucking spicy.
The next thing he was aware of was being woken up rudely by some insistent buzzing at his door, and he realised that his clock said 0836. “Shit!” he yelled, tripping over about five different things on his way to the door. When he opened it, he was greeted by a hypospray to the neck, “Fuck! What, were you just holding that out, waiting for me to get in range?!”
“Yes,” said Bones, storming into his room, “It’ll stop you from being hung-over. Now get in the shower. You smell like stale booze and cheap perfume and you have a ceremony to get to. I’ve been buzzing for ten fucking minutes.”
The complaining went on through the bathroom door for the entire five minutes it took Jim to have a sonic shower, brush his teeth and hair and put on deodorant. He was struggling into his cadet uniform when Bones apparently gave up waiting and decided to come in and help him. It resulted in his getting dressed taking even longer than it should have as he tried to swat the hands away. “Come on,” insisted his friend, “Let’s go, it’s 0845!”
“Okay, okay!” protested Jim as he stumbled, trying to pull on his boots while hopping towards the door.
They were out the door and marching across campus at 0847, at the right building at 0855. Pausing outside the door, Bones turned to Jim, flattening his hair and checking him over. Jim half expected him to lick his thumb and then reach over to wipe a smudge from his face. He was such a mother hen that it was absurd. And then he shoved Jim through the door roughly and any loving thoughts the blonde might have been having about him left his mind.
Despite the morning rush, Jim was in his seat and looking prim and proper for the appointed time. Bones settled into his own seat in the first row of red-suited officers, right next to Sulu who had saved him the spot.
The ceremony itself went smoothly. He had very little to say, which was a good thing considering the fact that his brain still felt a little fuzzy from the quick and confusing awakening this morning. Thankfully he wasn’t having an allergic reaction to whatever it was Bones had shot him with, which was just as well because he didn’t need his best friend leaping out of his seat and tackling him during the middle of his promotion ceremony. He surreptitiously glanced about the auditorium, unable to see Spock anywhere. His heart sunk a little, but there was nothing to be done about it.
As it turned out, twenty minutes later as he stood outside, still laughing and shaking hands with people, there had been a Spock in attendance. It just wasn’t the one he had been expecting. The old man did not approach him, merely standing off to the side. It was strange, then, that Jim felt compelled to turn that way and see him. But turn, he did, and see, he did. So he excused himself from Chekov’s grasp, leaving Bones to fall into the teenager’s clutches, and crossed the grass to talk to him.
“Spock,” he greeted, and the old man’s eyes crinkled in a way that young Spock’s certainly didn’t.
“Jim,” Spock began walking, clearly expecting Jim to follow him, which he did, falling into step neatly beside him. “Congratulations, Jim,” he said, sounding proud.
“Your younger self congratulated me too, you know. Only he didn’t seem so sincere about it,” Jim snorted and Spock seemed amused.
“No, I do not imagine that he was,” Spock was still graceful as an old man, Jim noted, “Do not worry, it will change with time.”
“I doubt it. He said he’s going to go ‘help rebuild his race,’ whatever the hell that means.”
Spock looked at him with fondness in his eyes, and it made Jim warm to feel so honestly accepted, “I do not believe that he will. His place is in Starfleet. I will help rebuild our race.”
“Sure you don’t want to be my first officer?”
“There is nothing I would rather be, but it is not my time. I have already had that chance. It is time for my younger counterpart to have that pleasure.”
Jim smiled at him, “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Look, I hope I’ll still be able to talk to you. There’s no time-and-space-destroying rule about that, is there?”
“No,” Spock sounded almost pleased at his inquiry, “There is not. I would be glad to receive communication from you.”
They talked for a while longer, before Spock announced that he needed to depart for a shuttle leaving to the ship which would take him to the new planet they hoped to colonize. They stood facing each other, Jim trying to figure out how his counterpart would have said goodbye. In the end he carefully arranged his fingers into the Vulcan salute, holding it up and beginning the traditional farewell, “Live long and--”
He didn’t get the end of it out because he was too surprised. Spock had stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Jim. His brain short-circuited and it took him a moment to realise that this was a hug. He returned the gesture, feeling inexplicably touched, even by this short contact. Spock was warmer than a human and smelled different, like foreign spices. Probably Vulcan food, he thought and smiled. He also felt a strange buzz when touching Spock, like a weak electric current coursing over his skin, but he didn’t have the time to think about it now, because the embrace lasted only a second. “Good bye Spock,” he said, when they stepped apart.
“For now,” replied the old man, smiling ever so slightly at him. When he had gone, Jim turned on his heel and went to go and find the group who had been hanging around with him. There was some serious celebration and planning to be done.
.
*
Click here for part III!
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Length: 3,316 (this part)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Summary: Kirk and Spock, from hatred to ambivalence. From aquaintances to friends. From best friends to lovers. All of the trials and tribulations in between. Starting right from the very beginning, all of the awkward moments and long silences included.
Notes:
Chapter One can be found here. Please go there for the ridiculously long author's not explaining the origins of this story =).
Chapter Two
The next thing he had to do, Jim was dreading. But it had to be done. It was just...he hadn’t called his mother in almost a year. Had barely spoken to her before that except to tell her that he was enlisting and then again last year to keep her up to date (“I haven’t died, been discharged or gotten anyone pregnant, mom”). But this felt like a pretty big deal, and she had probably heard of the whole Nero Incident on the news by now anyway. She probably figured, as he had, that he’d be crawling back home any day now, having been kicked out. Only he wasn’t going to be doing that, he thought happily, grin on his face again as he punched in the number. Unfortunately, it wasn’t his mother that picked up, it was Frank, and Jim felt his smile drop off his face as the man’s face filled the screen.
“Is mom home?” he asked before Frank had an opportunity to say anything.
“Yeah,” he said roughly, “Saw your face on the news.”
“I’ll bet you did. Now can you get Mom please?”
Begrudgingly he put Jim on hold, obviously going to find her. It took five full minutes of waiting for her to finally answer - were it not for the blinking “HOLD” written across the screen, he would have assumed that he had been hung up on. When she did, she looked weary, as if she’d been waiting for him to call with some bad news, “Hi Jim.”
“Hey mom. Got some news for you,” the smile was back, even though he could see Frank hovering there in the periphery of the screen, “I got promoted.”
Her facial expression changed immediately, brightening, “So you’re officially an officer now! My little Jimmy, an officer of the fleet! So, are you an Ensign? Or did they put you all the way up to Lieutenant for saving Earth?”
“Actually, I’m a Captain.”
She didn’t reply, her eyes perfectly round in shock. He smiled, feeling proud of himself, “Captain of Starfleet’s flagship, the Enterprise.”
There was another long bout of silence, and Jim felt his heart sink slightly as his mother’s expression changed, “Don’t try and kid me, Jim,” she said, relaxing as she seemed to realise that he was joking, “So, when will you be home?”
He wasn’t having any of this, “I don’t have time to come home. I’m sure we’ll be shipping out as soon as the Enterprise is repaired, and I’ve got a lot of administrative things to do before then.”
“Jim, please don’t do this,” she sighed, looking sad. He felt anger flickering in his stomach.
“Mom, I’m Captain of the Enterprise. Believe what you like, I just thought I’d call you and tell you before you find out from the television. I guess I shouldn’t have, huh?”
“I’m sorry, but you suddenly being promoted from Cadet right up to Captain with no field experience just seems a little implausible. Not only that, but Captain of the Flagship? I’m not an idiot, Jim. I know you think I am, but I’m not. If you want a room at home here, you’re always welcome, but don’t call me and lie to me,” there were tears in her eyes, he noted, and yes, maybe he’d been a fuck-up for most of his life, but did that mean she couldn’t believe anything he said? When he called her with such an honest expression across his face, sincere pride and happiness, she couldn’t believe that he might actually be telling the truth?
“I didn’t believe it either, Mom. But there you go. Bones and I are gonna go celebrate now. I’ll see you in five years, when the Enterprise gets back.” He hung up, not wanting to hear any more of it. He knew he had been a terrible son. He had. Maybe it was just better if they didn’t talk. She could have her life with that asshole Frank, and he could have his with his beautiful Starship. It would have been nice to have a little support, but he was sure that his promotion would be on the 6’o’clock news tomorrow anyway.
Standing, he stripped off his stiff academy uniform and started rummaging through his closet for something clean to wear. He didn’t really have any sort of style in his civilian clothes, and so it was a relatively simple matter to pull out two random pieces of clothing and put them on. He was just struggling into a t-shirt that seemed a little too tight - had this shrunk in the dryer or something? - when his door buzzer went. Probably Bones, he thought, wandering over with his shirt still tangled around his head and shimmying into it as he hit the open button. “Bones, what are you bothering me about now, you just saw me twenty minutes ago!”
It wasn’t Bones. It was Spock, who looked on impassively as Jim yanked down his shirt to cover his stomach, “Oh,” he said, feeling a little like he’d had the rug pulled out from under him, “Hi Spock.”
“Good afternoon, Cadet Kirk” replied the Vulcan coolly, “May I have a moment of your time?”
“Of course!” he stuttered, surprised, and gestured him inside. Spock stepped in, immediately looking out of place in the half-messy room. As much as it bothered Jim, he couldn’t bring himself to clean Paul’s side of the room, “Do you want to sit down?” he only had the one chair, over by his desk. Paul’s had clothes stacked on it, and he wasn’t touching those.
“No, thank you,” said Spock, “This will not take long.”
“Oh,” he said, sinking down onto his bed, looking up at the Vulcan who was doing an impressive job of looking blankly tense. His spine was rigid but his face was impassive, features soft and expressionless.
“I have heard of your promotion,” said Spock, “I wished to congratulate you.”
“Why?” the word was out of Jim’s mouth before he could stop it.
“I was under the impression that this was typical of human culture -- to congratulate one’s peers when they have achieved something.” Spock tilted his head ever so slightly, “As it was the result of a shared endeavour that you were promoted, I felt obligated to come and extend my congratulations.”
“I wouldn’t have been offended if you hadn’t,” Jim felt awkward around Spock, and it was safe to say that this was because he had provoked him into almost killing him, “I know we’re not exactly friends.” Spock’s expression didn’t change so Jim continued, “Look, I just want to apologize for my behaviour on the ship. It’s just...I felt that what you were doing was wrong. I felt that if I didn’t do everything I could, we were gonna die. Not just us...everyone on Earth. I couldn’t let that happen. So I did what I thought I had to do. I’m sorry that I had to behave so horribly to you.”
“Logical,” said Spock, “The end results suggest that you took the correct course of action. And of course, if you believed that this was so, it made sense for you to act in whatever way necessary to ensure that it was taken.”
That wasn’t “apology accepted,” noted Jim. That was “I understand why you did it.”
“I shall try to attend your ceremony,” said Spock, pulling Jim out of thought, “Although should I not be there, I would like for you to know that I expect you to take your post seriously and attempt to keep the Enterprise and its crew safe.”
Jim smirked, “Worried about Uhura?” Spock didn’t respond to that, so it was safe to say that that was true, “You know, if you apply to a position on the Enterprise, I’ll definitely sign the papers. In fact,” he leant forward, looking up at Spock seriously, “I’ll make you first officer. I can’t think of anyone better to have by my side.”
“I appreciate the offer,” he didn’t sound appreciative, “But I shall not be applying for berth aboard the Enterprise, as I plan to resign from Starfleet.”
Jim’s heart dropped, “Why? Not because of me?”
“No, I would not resign due to a relationship with any particular Starfleet personnel, whether good or bad. I am resigning to help rebuild my race.”
Oh, of course. His planet was gone. It was hard to remember that Vulcan had been destroyed. He remembered learning about it in second grade, the first aliens Earth had ever made contact with. It had been such a central part of the Federation. But still. “Spock, you shouldn’t resign because you’re expected to! You should do what you want to do!”
“I wish to resign,” said Spock, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.
“I don’t think you do,” Jim stood, “If you wanted to be with Vulcans, you never would have left your planet. I think being in Starfleet is exactly what you want to do. Don’t resign just because you feel like you need to!”
Spock frowned, a tiny line appearing in the middle of his flawless forehead, “I do need to. My planet was destroyed. My people need my help.”
“They didn’t need you before!” He clapped a hand over his mouth as that slipped out. Spock’s gaze darkened ever so slightly, “I mean, look. Spock, I’m sorry, but I can’t help but feel that this isn’t something you want to do. I really truly believe that you belong in Starfleet. I mean, obviously, it’s none of my business, but--”
“No,” interrupted Spock, “It is none of your business. Please stay out of it.”
He turned and walked swiftly to the door, intercepted by Jim at the last second, “Spock. Do what’s best for you, not what’s best for everyone else. I’ll be expecting you on the Enterprise on departure day. I’ll save the First Officer position for you.”
“That will not be necessary,” began the Vulcan, but Jim just gave him his most steadfast look.
“I’ll save it for you,” he insisted as Spock nodded to him in farewell and stalked off down the hallway.
//
Jim spent the remainder of his afternoon reading up on the duties and responsibilities of Captains. He had difficulty keeping his mind off Spock, and his thoughts kept drifting to how he could convince Spock to join his crew. He wasn’t even sure why he wanted Spock on his team so badly, but he did. Maybe it was his impressive record. Maybe it was the fact that he had been one of Captain Pike’s most trusted officers. Or maybe it was that old man he’d met on an ice planet a couple of days ago. He’d said they were friends. The greatest of friends. And Jim didn’t think he was lying. Emotional transference was a side effect of the meld, after all. He had certainly felt the relief, the joy, the love that the older Spock had felt for him. It had streamed out through the meld, a beautiful mixture of emotion to juxtapose the unbelievable sorrow pouring into him.
He was broken out of thought by his door buzzer again, and stood, assuming it was his best friend, here to begin a night of getting shit-faced. In fact, it wasn’t Bones (again), but Sulu and Scotty, the Asian holding out a hand with an eyebrow raised.
Jim laughed, “I guess I do owe you. How did you know anyway?”
“One thing you’ll learn when I’m working on the Enterprise with you - I know everything,” said Sulu, pocketing Jim’s money when he handed it to him, “Everything about everyone. So I hear we’re celebrating tonight?”
“That’s why I’m here,” explained Scotty with a shrug, “We’re going to get you drunk off your arse.”
“Not too drunk!” Jim protested, “I have a ceremony tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll fix you up before the ceremony,” Bones had apparently arrived and was raring to go. Well, he was scowling, which meant raring-to-go in Bones-expressions, “Which bar are we going to?”
“Jim’s choice,” said Sulu, and Jim was sorely tempted to pick a gay bar or something, just to spite him, “I’m good with anywhere.”
“Astrid’s,” decided Jim. It was always crowded and the booze was cheap, never mind that it was a bit dirty and the decor left something to be desired. No one seemed to have any objections though and they set off. It was a relatively uneventful walk over there, and the bar was, as expected, dirty and crowded. Bones “claimed” a booth by standing next to it looking scary until the previous patrons abandoned it. The other three men then proceeded to sit Jim there and methodically feed drinks to him, one after another until the whole room was spinning and the blonde felt like he was on top of the world, “I just got promoted to Captain!” he announced from his position standing on the table, and a rousing cheer went up among the other people in the bar.
Bones and Scotty began a drinking contest, which Jim watched with great enthusiasm, unable to decide for whom to cheer. So he cheered for both, much to Bones’ annoyance and Scotty’s delight. He wasn’t sure who won, because he left half-way through, suddenly feeling a powerful urge to dance. Dancing went well. He found some lovely women to grind against. One of them had the greatest hips known to mankind, and he didn’t want to take his hands off them, only he was still tired and sore from his intergalactic adventures. His ribs were screaming at him by the time he gave up and headed back to the table. When he got back, Sulu was chewing on chicken wings and offered him some, which he took and began to eat, only to realise that they were really fucking spicy.
The next thing he was aware of was being woken up rudely by some insistent buzzing at his door, and he realised that his clock said 0836. “Shit!” he yelled, tripping over about five different things on his way to the door. When he opened it, he was greeted by a hypospray to the neck, “Fuck! What, were you just holding that out, waiting for me to get in range?!”
“Yes,” said Bones, storming into his room, “It’ll stop you from being hung-over. Now get in the shower. You smell like stale booze and cheap perfume and you have a ceremony to get to. I’ve been buzzing for ten fucking minutes.”
The complaining went on through the bathroom door for the entire five minutes it took Jim to have a sonic shower, brush his teeth and hair and put on deodorant. He was struggling into his cadet uniform when Bones apparently gave up waiting and decided to come in and help him. It resulted in his getting dressed taking even longer than it should have as he tried to swat the hands away. “Come on,” insisted his friend, “Let’s go, it’s 0845!”
“Okay, okay!” protested Jim as he stumbled, trying to pull on his boots while hopping towards the door.
They were out the door and marching across campus at 0847, at the right building at 0855. Pausing outside the door, Bones turned to Jim, flattening his hair and checking him over. Jim half expected him to lick his thumb and then reach over to wipe a smudge from his face. He was such a mother hen that it was absurd. And then he shoved Jim through the door roughly and any loving thoughts the blonde might have been having about him left his mind.
Despite the morning rush, Jim was in his seat and looking prim and proper for the appointed time. Bones settled into his own seat in the first row of red-suited officers, right next to Sulu who had saved him the spot.
The ceremony itself went smoothly. He had very little to say, which was a good thing considering the fact that his brain still felt a little fuzzy from the quick and confusing awakening this morning. Thankfully he wasn’t having an allergic reaction to whatever it was Bones had shot him with, which was just as well because he didn’t need his best friend leaping out of his seat and tackling him during the middle of his promotion ceremony. He surreptitiously glanced about the auditorium, unable to see Spock anywhere. His heart sunk a little, but there was nothing to be done about it.
As it turned out, twenty minutes later as he stood outside, still laughing and shaking hands with people, there had been a Spock in attendance. It just wasn’t the one he had been expecting. The old man did not approach him, merely standing off to the side. It was strange, then, that Jim felt compelled to turn that way and see him. But turn, he did, and see, he did. So he excused himself from Chekov’s grasp, leaving Bones to fall into the teenager’s clutches, and crossed the grass to talk to him.
“Spock,” he greeted, and the old man’s eyes crinkled in a way that young Spock’s certainly didn’t.
“Jim,” Spock began walking, clearly expecting Jim to follow him, which he did, falling into step neatly beside him. “Congratulations, Jim,” he said, sounding proud.
“Your younger self congratulated me too, you know. Only he didn’t seem so sincere about it,” Jim snorted and Spock seemed amused.
“No, I do not imagine that he was,” Spock was still graceful as an old man, Jim noted, “Do not worry, it will change with time.”
“I doubt it. He said he’s going to go ‘help rebuild his race,’ whatever the hell that means.”
Spock looked at him with fondness in his eyes, and it made Jim warm to feel so honestly accepted, “I do not believe that he will. His place is in Starfleet. I will help rebuild our race.”
“Sure you don’t want to be my first officer?”
“There is nothing I would rather be, but it is not my time. I have already had that chance. It is time for my younger counterpart to have that pleasure.”
Jim smiled at him, “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Look, I hope I’ll still be able to talk to you. There’s no time-and-space-destroying rule about that, is there?”
“No,” Spock sounded almost pleased at his inquiry, “There is not. I would be glad to receive communication from you.”
They talked for a while longer, before Spock announced that he needed to depart for a shuttle leaving to the ship which would take him to the new planet they hoped to colonize. They stood facing each other, Jim trying to figure out how his counterpart would have said goodbye. In the end he carefully arranged his fingers into the Vulcan salute, holding it up and beginning the traditional farewell, “Live long and--”
He didn’t get the end of it out because he was too surprised. Spock had stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Jim. His brain short-circuited and it took him a moment to realise that this was a hug. He returned the gesture, feeling inexplicably touched, even by this short contact. Spock was warmer than a human and smelled different, like foreign spices. Probably Vulcan food, he thought and smiled. He also felt a strange buzz when touching Spock, like a weak electric current coursing over his skin, but he didn’t have the time to think about it now, because the embrace lasted only a second. “Good bye Spock,” he said, when they stepped apart.
“For now,” replied the old man, smiling ever so slightly at him. When he had gone, Jim turned on his heel and went to go and find the group who had been hanging around with him. There was some serious celebration and planning to be done.
.
*
Click here for part III!