How We Are (but not how we're going to be) Part 5
Artist: insideapollo
Mixer: jazzy_peaches
Summary: Even when they hate each other, they're still sort of falling in love.
Link to Art: This is how we are (but not how we're going to be)
Link to Mix: Judging From Picture Books
Masterpost
[part five]
They are in orbit around Ceti Gamma II, in a relatively uncharted area of space. Ensign Dasher, who had been manning the science console Gamma shift, noticed two unmistakable satellites orbiting the star. Commander Scott, as the commanding officer for Gamma shift, altered their course accordingly, and early Alpha shift Kirk excitedly begins putting together an away team to study the planet up close.
“Sulu, with me,” Kirk says after he sends messages to Lieutenant Laura from sciences and Ensign Euler from security. Lieutenant Giotto is presumably on his way to the transporter room as well. “Spock, take care of the ship while we’re out.”
Spock stands from his station and ignores the small twinge of disappointment that he will not be part of the away mission. He considers asking Jim to reconsider, but recalls their last meeting with Doctor Jones. He had explained how there are times when he is still assuaged by doubt over his ability to captain, and Spock knows now that his suggestions have often been misconstrued as veiled insults on Jim’s command decisions.
“Of course, Captain,” Spock decides, and is rewarded with a relieved smile from Jim.
With Jim and Lieutenant Sulu on the away mission, the bridge is very silent. Ensign Chekov is immersed in his work, presumably studying the surrounding space for anomalies. Nyota is monitoring the away team’s frequencies, as has become her habit. Spock’s replacement, a young ensign from the science department, has only just reached the bridge; zhe talks quietly with the ensign covering the helm.
There is no logical reason to feel apprehension; Spock has learned that Jim is more than capable of self-reliance. At any rate, it is a relatively safe mission, and preliminary readings suggest that there is no sapient life on the planet. Still, Spock sits very still in the Captain’s chair, intently watching the way Ceti Gamma creates a halo of light around the surface of the planet.
“Kirk to bridge.”
“Spock here,” he responds, perhaps too urgently than he would have had he truly felt no apprehension.
“Spock.” Far from sounding anxious or panicked, Jim’s voice is full of quiet mirth. “Spock, is Uhura around? Can you get her to link the viewscreen with Sulu’s tricorder? He’s added a vid-recorder. You guys’ve got to see this place.”
“On it, sir,” Uhura says from her station, crossing to an area of her console just out of reach from her seat. Within moments, the planet in orbit is replaced by a view of the landscape. “Got it. Streaming, Captain.”
There is a quiet intake of breath from the science console at the sight.
“Oh wow,” the yeoman says from the helm.
The away team seems to have beamed directly into a large mineral valley. There is no plant-life in their field of vision; instead, a seemingly endless plain of glittering black rock unfolds before the away team, some portions so lustrous they look for a moment to be carved of black glass. To their right, perhaps forty-five meters away, curves the shoreline for a large body of liquid, shining a grayish blue in the afternoon light.
“Is zat planet entirely quartz?” Chekov asks, looking up from his readings.
“Volcanic silica glass,” Sulu says from the planet, almost as if he had heard Chekov’s question. The viewscreen goes dark for a second, and when the viewfeed returns, they find Sulu has overlaid his initial scans over the image.
“Obsidian?” Uhura asks. “How can a planet be covered with that much volcanic rock?”
Pale, semi-transparent graphs and percentiles hover over the away team as Sulu crosses to where Jim remains standing, looking out over the valley.
“Do you see this, Commander?” Kirk asks into his communicator, his voice lagging seconds from the image they see. “It’s amazing!”
“I see it, Captain,” Spock responds, letting his eyes travel across the formations of dark igneous rock and back to Jim.
“Commander, I’m detecting a large, unidentified mass on our sensors,” Yeoman Uzaveh says from the science console.
“Onscreen.” The last image Spock sees is of Sulu undoubtedly turning away from the Captain, to where a small, dense patch of dark green vegetation looms in the distance before the screen switches to the orbital view again. The mass Uzaveh detected is still thousands of kilometers away; it appears only as a speck just above Ceti Gamma II. “Magnify.”
At twenty times magnification, the object is revealed to be a large, oblong-shaped asteroid. Its ghostly shape inches towards them as they watch, no doubt hurtling through space at tens of thousands of kilometers per hour.
“Map its trajectory, Ensign Chekov,” Spock says sharply, refusing to believe that an asteroid of all occurrences should spoil an uneventful mission. “Bridge to Captain,” he adds, pressing the comm link button on the Captain’s chair with perhaps more force than strictly necessary.
“Yeah, Spock?” Jim’s voice is full of mirth, so unlike the strained cadence he’d used less than four days previous, dealing with the aftermath of the ion storm himself once he’d ordered Spock to get some rest.
“Captain, it would be expedient if you gathered the away team for possible beam-up.”
There is a pause on the line before he answers.
“What’s wrong, Spock?”
“Possibly nothing, sir,” Spock assuages, knowing that Jim is no doubt imagining Klingon warbirds and other illogical events. “Only, stand by to recall the away team.”
“Keep me posted,” is Jim’s brusque reply before the line is terminated.
“Commander,” Chekov prompts, spinning in his seat to stare at him with shocked, round eyes. “By my calculations, it will hit ze planet with a glancing blow.”
Spock does not need to be told that an object the asteroid’s mass, at even a glancing blow, will cause massive devastation to the planetary surface. It is doubtful if any life will survive the crash and its aftereffects.
“In how long?”
“Four hours, perhaps less.”
At least none of the crew is in any immediate danger, Spock reasons.
“Kirk to Spock,” Spock’s personal communicator says. “Are we gonna get blown up anytime in the immediate future?”
“Negative, sir. However, a situation has developed that requires your input.”
“There’s always something,” Jim says before ending the communication.
“Chekov, with me,” Spock calls, already heading towards the turbolift. “Lieutenant Uhura, you have the bridge.”
By the time they reach the turbolift, Euler and Laura have already beamed up, along with several rock, water, and plant samples for testing. Lieutenant Laura also brings up a small, reptilian-looking animal under the pretense of archival research and observation. Jim, Sulu, and Giotto rematerialize on the platform as Laura makes for the science labs to catalogue their findings.
“All right, Mr. Spock,” Jim says as he steps down from the platform. “Tell me the problem.”
Spock explains the situation quickly as they ride the turbolift to the bridge. Sulu and Chekov follow, half a step behind them when the Captain bursts onto the bridge.
“How far is it?” he asks, watching the viewscreen for several long seconds. The asteroid fills the viewscreen now, tumbling over itself in empty space.
“Approximately three hours, forty-eight minutes, sir,” Uzaveh says from the science console, moving away from the station as Spock approaches.
Jim sits, without taking his eyes off the asteroid.
“Uhura, call an emergency tactical meeting in my conference room. Fifteen minutes.”
“Aye sir.”
“Spock, with me,” Jim says, rising abruptly from his chair and crossing to the ready room without another word.
Inside, Jim is pacing quickly, his hands behind his back. He does not appear to notice Spock’s presence. Suddenly, he stops before his desk, his back to Spock.
“There’s civilized life on that planet,” he says quietly, turning to Spock and revealing a large arrowhead shining in the palm of his hand. It is black, and when Jim delicately grabs it with his other hand to hold up into the light, Spock can see a myriad of colors swirling inside. Obsidian then, he thinks as Jim places the object on the surface of his desk. “Or something resembling a hunter-gatherer society, anyway. We didn’t see any of them, but we found a couple of these in the area.”
“I see.”
“Does that change how we approach this situation?” he asks.
Spock clasps his hands behind his back and approaches the desk. The arrowhead is almost paper-thin, and its edges gleam with deadly silence in the overhead lighting. It is not yet fossilized, and neither has it yet lost any of its gleam from regular use. He can extrapolate that this item was carved very recently.
“With sapient life on that planet, the Prime Directive is in effect,” Spock finally decides. “However, I do not anticipate this revelation to have any bearing on how we will handle this situation.”
Unless the Captain had expected an evacuation of the planet, which would have been inadvisable. Jim however, just nods once, tightly, the tense line of his shoulders refusing to relax.
“Spock,” he starts, looking to him, then away again. He picks the arrowhead up again and carefully turns it over in his palms. “I need you to-I need to know you’re with me in this.”
“I am,” Spock says, lilts the phrase almost like a question.
“I mean, later, at our makeshift conference. Yeah, you’re allowed to disagree with me obviously, I mean, it’s kind of your job And I probably won’t have any ideas anyway which is kind of the point of a conference, I would think-”
“Captain,” Spock prompts, watching the way Jim resumes his pacing.
“Right,” he responds. “My point is that you and I, we’re doing good. Better than good. Great at this communicating thing. But it’s-hard to remember that when the entire bridge crew is watching us like they’re afraid we’re about to shoot each other with phasers set to disintegrate. So. I mean, you can disagree with my decision, if you feel like it’s the worst thing ever. That’s your right. Just. Can you lodge your complaints with me, alone? Afterwards?”
Spock doubts that the entire bridge crew experiences this fear. However, Spock understands Jim’s uncertainty in this case, and so he does not express his doubt. Instead, he takes two measured steps, designed to cease Jim’s nervous pacing.
“Captain,” Spock says again, then amends himself. “Jim. Whatever your decision, I am with you.”
It is rather fascinating how that simple statement is enough to drain the tension from Jim’s body. He smiles, slow and obviously relieved, and Spock feels his breath catch inexplicably in his lungs.
“Okay,” Jim breathes, runs a hand through his hair. The beginnings of a flush spring to life along the tops of Jim’s cheekbones, a sight that momentarily requires all of Spock’s attention. “Okay,” he says again, this time louder. “Let’s go then.”
“Can’t we just blow it up?” Giotto says later, after they have all gathered in the conference room.
“We’d have to get directly in front of it to make sure none of the blown-up bits hit the planet,” Lieutenant Marleau says from across the table. “The risk of serious damage to us is unacceptable.”
She and Sulu are Joint-Chiefs of Tactical, while Giotto is Head of Security. Also present at this conference are Ensign Chekov, Doctor McCoy, and Lieutenant Commander Madeline in Commander Scott’s stead-who is Ariolo and therefore has no surname.
“What about the tractor beam?” Madeline asks in the ensuing silence.
“We would need to move at exactly same speed as ze asteroid to stop it,” Chekov responds. “Ewen then, we would only slow it down. It would not change course of asteroid.”
“A slow asteroid is better than one hurtling at 3000 kilometers per second,” Madeline argues. “We could probably slow it down enough for us to get in front of it safely. Maybe then we could blow it up.”
“The ship would still be in danger,” Sulu says. “Anytime you break apart something that big, its remaining bits can go anywhere.”
Throughout this conversation, Jim has been pacing around the length of the room, clearly agitated.
“What do you think, Spock?” he says suddenly, stopping at the farthest viewport and staring out into space. Spock wonders for a moment if he is perhaps searching the darkness for any hint of the object of their discussion.
“It is not necessarily within our purview to prevent this collision,” Spock says, not because he agrees with the statement but because it must be said.
Jim spins around to face him at that, looks as if he is about to speak when someone at the conference table does so.
“Now wait just a damn minute.” It is, expectedly, Doctor McCoy who is the first to respond to Spock’s statement, although the disbelief on Jim’s face is more worrying to Spock than the outrage McCoy is exposing. “You can’t seriously be considering not doing anything?”
Spock raises an eyebrow. He believes the colloquialism for his actions now is “playing Devil’s Advocate.”
“The strictest interpretation of the Prime Directive implies total noninterference. This includes allowing nature to run its course.”
“Why you heartless, green-blooded-”
“Bones,” Jim says firmly.
He begins to cross to where Spock is seated, and it is then that he realizes Jim was correct in his earlier assessment of the crew. The tension rises in the room with every step Jim takes, and Chekov, Sulu, Marleau, Giotto, and Madeline all avert their gazes when Jim stops point nine-seven meters away.
“Starfleet is a humanitarian, peace-keeping armada,” Jim says, his expression unreadable. “As such it’s our duty to provide aid to sapient life, whether preemptively or otherwise.”
After three point seven seconds, Spock inclines his head.
“Assuming that you do not mean to reveal this ship or its crew to the inhabitants of Ceti Gamma II, I will accept your logic,” he states and is rewarded by the incredulously pleased look that crosses Jim’s face. “And, provided that our mission report contains such verbiage, I will have no qualms with proceeding further.”
There is a somewhat uncertain silence after Spock’s proclamation. However, Marleau does finally clear her throat and begins to speak.
“If we are able to slice through the asteroid without disintegrating it, there would be a high probability of the two pieces missing the planet entirely.”
“A concentrated phaser blast of such duration has a ninety-seven point nine percent probability of burning out our energy banks,” Spock adds.
“So we’d only have one shot at it,” Jim says. “And if that doesn’t work?”
“We would have to get directly in front of asteroid for plan to work,” Chekov says.
The implication is clear: if they do not succeed in bisecting the asteroid, they would be left in its collision course with few resources to move them out of the way. They could very well be destroyed in the attempt.
“Do it,” Jim says. “Chekov, Sulu, get back on the bridge and plot an intercept course with the asteroid. I want to get to it before it’s visible to anyone on Ceti Gamma II.”
“Aye sir.”
“Madeline, get down to engineering. I want our tractor beam ready by the time we’re ready to blow it up.”
Madeline nods and exits along with Sulu and Chekov. The others seem to take that as a cue to excuse themselves as well, as soon, the conference room is empty save for Jim, himself, and Doctor McCoy. It is very obvious that Doctor McCoy is anxious to create a verbal conflict of sorts, but Jim merely makes a jerky motion with one of his hands to stay the doctor’s altercation.
“Later, Bones.” He turns to Spock then; they lock eyes for an interminable moment. “ Etwel Worl’Qjunirr,” he says. “Will it work?”
He has not heard Jim pronounce Spock’s clan name like it is his right; the effect is immediate and almost overwhelming. Indeed, he is stunned into silence for two point seven seconds. It is however, a small enough span of time that neither human would notice. Therefore, Spock merely inclines his head once he regains his composure.
“There is a significant chance of risk to our ship and crew,” he begins, “however the probability of success does outweigh the probability of failure.”
Finally, Jim smiles again.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, turns on his heel and bounds out of the room.
“What did he call you just now?” Doctor McCoy asks once Jim has exited. “Because it sounded a hell of a lot like an endearment to me.”
“I have no comment on the matter,” Spock says, and follows Jim onto the bridge before he can see the look that crosses the Doctor’s face.
On the bridge, everyone is silent as the necessary calculations are put into effect. Spock lets his gaze flicker between his science station and Jim before crossing and standing at Jim’s side.
The asteroid fills up the viewscreen, dark and ominous as they race towards it.
“In position, sir,” Sulu says.
“Kirk to Engineering. Are our phaser banks ready?”
“Aye sir,” Madeline’s voice says from Jim’s chair. “We’re good to go down here.”
“Fire on my command,” he informs tactical. “Fire.”
On the viewscreen, the red pulsating beams of continuous phaser fire are nearly blinding. A Terran colloquialism springs to mind as Spock watches a deep crack form along the center of the asteriod: it appears to be moving in slow-motion. It is strange, since he knows splitting an asteroid with a diameter this size would in fact take a large amount of time. Still, the phrase sticks, and it echoes in Spock's mind with Jim's voice.
"Engines exceeding the max for safe temperature, Captain," Madeline's disembodied voice says.
"Keep at it, Lieutenant," Jim says, and then almost to himself, "She'll hold."
"Asteriod is breaking apart, Keptin."
"Awesome, Chekov, thanks."
"Captain, engines overheating-"
Several things happen at once before Lieutenant Madeline finishes her statement. The Enterprise shudders violently as its engines start to fail. The lights flicker ominously and they are plunged into darkness for several seconds until auxiliary power starts up, and the asteroid breaks apart without a sound on the viewscreen.
For a moment, it is completely quiet on the bridge. Then--
"Well, shit," Jim says. It earns a weak chuckle from several members of the crew. "Report."
It is as if the bridge had only been waiting for Jim's word. Almost at once the crew hastens to obey the order.
"Emergency communications only, sir. Informing engineering to use the emergency internal channel--"
"Tactical unresponsive, Captain."
"Running on auxiliary power only-"
"I can get us moving in an hour, Captain, maybe half if someone gets Scotty down here--"
"Uhura, page Scotty, I need this ship moving again," Jim says when there is a brief pause around him. "Spock, ETA on that asteroid's coordinates, and will we make it through the gap?"
Spock crosses to his station quickly and finds the necessary information.
"Estimated time of arrival is two minutes, fourteen seconds," Spock answers. "In that space of time the two separate halves of the asteroid will have separated an estimated point zero zero zero seven parsecs. It is enough distance for Enterprise to pass through unscathed."
"Chekov, map the trajectory of each of those asteroid bits," Jim says after a quick nod to Spock.
"Aye, Keptin."
"Scott here, Captain," Commander Scott says, sounding indignant. "I leave the lass to sleep and you wreck her engines?"
"Fix it, Scotty," Jim answers, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Ask Madeline to fill you in on the details."
"Aye sir. We'll have her moving in thirty minutes."
"Awesome. Keep me updated."
The line is cut momentarily, but then Scott's voice fills the bridge again.
"No 'that's not good enough,' Captain?" he asks. "You sure you're feeling all right?"
Jim laughs at that. He looks down at his armrest and glances quickly towards Spock before answering.
"Yeah," he says. "Just get us moving."
"Keptin," Chekov says then. "I have the trajectories mapped. One piece has a radial velocity that has almost stopped. The other, its path has high probability of hitting ze planet still."
"Fuck. How bad?"
"It will enter the planet's atmosphere," Chekov responds, swiveling in his seat so he is facing Jim. "If lucky, it will explode atmospherically before it hits ze surface."
"That's what we're hoping for?" Jim asks, levering himself out of his chair. Spock knows what he is thinking.
The asteroid, even broken in half, is still large enough to cause devastation to life on Ceti Gamma II. If it impacts the surface, it is unlikely that any life will survive at all. However, exploding above the surface would not yield a better save-to-loss ratio either.
"Is there anything else we can try?" Marleau asks from tactical.
"We're immobile until engineering powers up the main power," Sulu answers, watching Jim pace the length of the bridge.
"Best case scenario, we're moving at full impulse in twenty minutes," Jim says. "If Scotty works some magic, we may have warp two within the hour. But even then, it'd still take us--"
"Three days, twelve hours, fifty-two minutes traveling at full impulse," Spock supplies when Jim looks his way. "At warp two it will take twenty one hours to reach Ceti Gamma II."
"Too late to beat the asteroid there," Sulu says after a quiet moment.
His voice is hushed, as if realizing the full scope of the problem. Jim too appears affected; he stops mid-stride and looks out into space, eyes darting from distant star-system to distant star-system.
“I refuse to believe we’ve exhausted all our resources,” Jim says quietly. “I need more options. Spock?”
Spock sweeps his gaze around the bridge once, taking in every pair of eyes trained on them. He straightens his spine and stands, clasping his hands behind his back.
“There are none available to us, Captain,” Spock says.
They cannot move faster than a slow crawl through space at this time, and because they are running on auxiliary power, the tractor beam is currently non-operative. The high-intensity phaser blast blew their phaser banks. They cannot fire a photon torpedo on auxiliary power, and by the time they have enough power to do so, the asteroid will be too close to Ceti Gamma II to risk firing.
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Jim says, his voice calmer than what Spock would have expected. He moves to one of the wall communicators and switches it to the emergency internal channel. "Bridge to Engineering. Tell me you've got good news."
Spock turns his gaze to the viewscreen, and for a moment he is positive that he sees Vulcan collapsing in on itself again.
"Can't sir," is Scott’s response. Spock blinks and forces the image from his mind. "Unless you want me lying to you. The engines are almost fried, aren't they? Don't know who put together the lass' defensive coding, but you can bet your arse it'll be fixed before you can say 'starbase' after this. Whose bright idea was it to wire the phaser banks directly into the mainframe, then? Any first year cadet would tell you it compromises the lasting power of the engines!"
"Give me a time, Scotty," Jim says, impatience finally lacing his voice.
"Still a way to go, sir," Scott's voice says. "Just got the impulse engines online, but if you're looking to go faster than a merry stroll it'll be another couple hours, at least."
"Find a way, Scotty."
"Always do, sir."
Jim remains standing by the wall for five seconds after that, before visibly straightening again and facing the crew. At that moment, Spock receives a message from the science deck requesting his help on unrelated issues. It strikes Spock suddenly that over forty percent of their crew would not know how close they all just came to destruction. Likewise, approximately eighty one percent will never know that a planet with an unknown population is about to experience a mass extinction despite their best efforts.
It is unsettling, to realize that so many lives are about to be lost and there is little they can do to prevent it. Unsettling also, that so much of their crew will never know nor care to find out.
"Take the bridge, Spock,” Jim says suddenly. “I’m going to fill out some paperwork.”
Spock almost misses the statement; he blinks and looks over to where Jim disappears behind the sliding doors to his ready room. He cannot quite focus at the moment. He keeps thinking of the asteroid, how much it must have slowed down by now and the way they cannot hope to intercept it. It will be hours before the asteroid hits Ceti Gamma II, and it feels then as if he will spend every minute of them replaying the incident over in his mind, looking for anything they could have done differently.
Jim does not emerge from his ready room until after the shift ends. Spock spends the time sitting almost motionless in the Captain’s chair while every illogical thought tells him that Jim requires his support more than the bridge crew. He considers waiting for Jim to exit into the bridge, but in the four hours left in alpha shift he has received two more messages from Sciences requesting his presence. At any rate, Spock doubts he would be very good company at the moment.
He heads down to deck seven, all the while trying to keep today's mission out of his head. However, upon reaching the Science deck, the first crewmember to approach him is Lieutenant Gabrielle Laura, one of the scientists who set foot on Ceti Gamma II. She is Denebian, and when she frowns, she emits a low frequency hum to show her distress. She is doing so now, even as a strange four-legged animal trails after her happily.
"I heard we broke orbit around Ceti Gamma II," she says. "Is there a reason why? Does it have anything to do with our power shorting out earlier?"
"Yes," Spock answers, clasping his hands behind his back (because it is too much effort to keep them from trembling slightly at his sides). "We discovered an asteroid with a trajectory which would effectively annihilate the planet entirely which we were forced to confront."
"Oh," the lieutenant says. "Is it okay? I need to get this little guy home."
Here, she indicates to the animal at her heels, and Spock remembers then that Laura had indeed brought an animal on board for observation. It is perhaps no larger than a large Terran cat, with large hexagonal scales covering its body. It has long yellow eyes that blink sideways when it looks up at Spock. It is almost completely black, with only small whorls of glittering red spotting its body. Spock thinks of the terrain of Ceti Gamma II and infers that this creature would have been nearly invisible even in broad daylight. In several hours it may be the only surviving member of its species.
He wonders if this creature had a family it might have returned to, if it lives in groups or wanders its native land as a solitary animal.
"‘Okay’ has variable definitions, Lieutenant," Spock says.
He wants to tell her suddenly that no, it is not 'all right,' but such a statement is vague and too emotional, and so he merely explains to her the details necessary for her to understand. The humming returns then, at a higher frequency, a trait which indicates severe distress to Denebians; she looks down at the animal and gently picks it up.
"Sir, with your permission, I'd like to keep her then."
"It is not within my purview to allow you to keep pets," Spock says slowly. "However, I will file a request for you with the head of Health and Services, and carefully explain the circumstances. I do not foresee any complications arising should you wish to keep this animal."
"Thank you, sir," she says, wiping discreetly at the corner of her eye. "I really appreciate it."
"Thanks are unnecessary," Spock says by rote. "Is there something else which required my presence?"
"Yes," she answers, shaking her head and letting the low hum slowly dissipate. "Um, Ensign Dasher's project on human-like androids crashed during the short, and none of us have been able to recover it. We were hoping you could help."
He spends far longer than he had originally anticipated helping Dasher locate much of his original data, and so it is late in Gamma shift when Spock is finally at liberty to look for Jim. Taking his mind off of a Ceti Gamma II is helpful, but cannot last long. Eventually, even the tedium of combing through lines of code for old data no longer distracts him.
Spock is fatigued, yes, but he has a suspicion that Jim himself will be even more so, and that he is not asleep either. Sure enough, when Spock chimes for entry into Jim's quarters, there is only a minimal pause before the doors slide open.
Jim’s quarters are dimly lit, and when he steps in he hears Jim’s soft footsteps before he appears at the doorway to his sleeping area. He is in a faded black shirt and a pair of black pants that are slung low on his hips. His eyes look almost turquoise in the dim light, and overly-bright. He looks much younger than twenty-six, lost, and very beautiful.
“Hey,” he says softly, running a hand along one side of his face. “Should have known you’d stop by.”
“I regret I could not come earlier,” Spock says, letting his hands fall to his sides. “I was delayed in Sciences. Did I wake you?”
“No,” Jim answers, closing his eyes for a moment and running his fingertips roughly along the line of his jaw. There is dark stubble growing there, Spock notices, and is distracted for a minute, imagining his own fingers tracing that same path along Jim’s jaw. “I couldn’t sleep.”
"Jim, I wished to speak with you regarding today's mission."
"You mean today's failure?" Jim retorts, with enough bitterness in his voice that Spock takes a tentative step towards him. Jim's eyes snap up to him, dart away quickly. "We broke orbit four hours ago. I let Pike know what happened."
"We exhausted all our resources," Spock says firmly. "Jim, there was nothing else to be done."
"That's what Pike said," Jim responds. "He kept saying sometimes a gamble pays off, and sometimes it doesn't. The important thing is that you try." He pauses here, turns away and crosses back to his bed, where he sits heavily on the edge. "I just. I kept thinking about Vulcan. How we could have done things differently and all those life forms wouldn't have died."
"Kadiidth, Jim," Spock says, knowing that Jim will understand him. He hovers in the doorway to Jim's sleeping area for a moment before making a decision. He steps inside. "You were not the only one whose thoughts strayed to Vulcan today on the bridge." Jim looks up with just his eyes, makes it so very tempting to reach out and cradle Jim's face in his palms. "We were not at fault today."
He thinks that maybe if he can force Jim to believe it, then perhaps he too will find it easier to confront the reality of this situation.
"I made us watch," Jim says quietly. He looks back down at the floor. Spock kneels before him, resists the urge to place his hands on either side of Jim's legs. "Until the asteroid collided with Ceti Gamma II. We all thought for a second that it would burn up in the atmosphere, but no luck. Chekov said that there's a high chance fifty percent of the planet's population might survive after the dust and poisons dissipate from the air. Fifty percent, Spock."
"Then it will have a better survival rate than Vulcan," Spock says, and surprisingly, it is said without jealousy. Finally, he gives in to the urge and haltingly places his hand along Jim’s cheek, his index finger millimeters away from the psi points along his temple. A faint spark of psychic activity sparks along Spock's skin there, and he realizes suddenly that this is the first time he has ever touched Jim, skin to skin, since the moment he nearly choked the man on the bridge.
"Jim," he says lightly, watching the way the other's jaw clenches as he looks up. "Do you remember Lieutenant Laura bringing a reptilian-like animal from the planet's surface?" When Jim nods slowly, Spock continues. "It is still aboard, and she has every intention of keeping it. Its name is Annabeth."
Jim blinks thrice in rapid succession before a brilliant smile spreads over his face. He lets out a breath of a laugh and leans over the last point three five meters separating them until they are so close their breath commingles between them.
"Spock," he says quietly, and it sounds as if the noise has been ripped out of him almost against his will. "I just. I need-"
And so Spock closes the final hairsbreadth gap between them and kisses him. Jim makes a small, keening noise in the back of his throat and slides off the bed, until he is kneeling beside Spock, his hands slowly dragging up Spock’s arms. Jim tilts his head slightly, drags his tongue wetly across the crevice of Spock’s lips. He opens his mouth tentatively, and then Jim is there again, suddenly all around him, the depth of his feeling crashing over Spock as Jim inadvertently grazes one of the hidden psi points along the back of Spock’s scalp.
Spock inhales sharply, curls his tongue around Jim’s, wanting, needing to feel him. Jim, he wants to whisper, but cannot pause long enough to utter it. His free hand wanders along Jim’s thigh, slips beneath his shirt and soaks in Jim’s happiness/need/lust as it drags hotly against skin. Jim arches into the touch, drops his head back slightly and from there it is so easy for Spock to reposition the fingers of his right hand, until with a flash of heat he feels Jim’s mind close to his before even initiating the meld.
“Let me,” Spock finally whispers into the skin of Jim’s throat, wrapping his arm around Jim’s waist to keep him close.
“Yes, yes, please, Spock,” Jim says, almost a chant. “Need you so bad, for so long, come on, Spock-”
So he does. It is easy; their minds are so compatible that Spock only has to beckon Jim’s mind to him before they are one. They groan simultaneously, somehow end up on the bed with Jim stretched out underneath Spock, their clothes discarded haphazardly with Spock so focused on their mental link. One of Spock’s knees slips between Jim’s thighs as he arches wantonly up into the friction it provides.
“Spock, I need-”
“Yes,” he says again, repositions his fingers along Jim’s face and dives in again, deeper this time, until he loses almost all sense of his body except that Jim is here, under him at last. “Deeper, Spock, more,” Jim breathes against Spock’s lips. “Want to feel you, Spock-”
Yes, Spock does not say, knows Jim can hear it anyway from the fresh wave of desire that pours off every inch of skin under him. They have a conversation with images in Spock’s head of just how long Jim has wanted this, Jim lying on his bed penetrating himself with his sex toy, imagining Spock in its stead. He moans in response, and he is already dripping with self-lubrication, so in one agonizing movement slides into Jim. Jim’s back arches off the bed, his eyes snapping open, inhaling and inhaling as if he cannot quite get enough air. Spock captures his lips in a searing kiss, bringing his other hand up and searching blindly for the psi points along the other side of his face. Jim’s fingers dragging along Spock’s back, urging him to move.
Almost, Jim, almost, Spock assures him, and yes, there, he feels a sharp spasm of pleasure and instinctively dives in again, finally pulling out of Jim slowly, snapping back in when Jim’s whimper becomes a long, low moan.
“Yes, yes, just like that,” Jim moans, tilting his hips and offering himself up to Spock.
Spock pushes into him, again and again, licking up the sweat that slides into the hollow of Jim’s neck, both his hands glued to Jim’s face. Mine, he thinks, at the swell of Jim’s lips. Mind, body, and katra, if you will have me, Jim-
“Fuck, Spock, yes,” Jim pants. “Love you, love you, so fucking much, for so fucking long, Spock, Spock-”
“Yes, Jim, Ashayam, always,” Spock returns, licking into his mouth.
He feels it when every muscle in Jim’s body contracts around him, feels the pull of pleasure in his mind when orgasm finally hits him, and after that it is only seconds before Spock follows him into climax.
Spock collapses atop Jim for a moment,alskjdf
“So, um,” Jim says, sitting up and dropping his feet to the floor. He smiles sheepishly at the ground. “That kind of happened.”
“Yes,” Spock agrees. He too, sits up. Without the immediate demands of his body clouding Spock’s judgment, he is now suddenly unsure. Jim’s body language suggests that he is tense, perhaps regretting what has just transpired between them. “Was it-objectionable?”
“What? No,” Jim answers, looking up. He runs one of his hands through his hair. “Look, honestly, that was one of the greatest things I’ve ever experienced. Only, I need to know if you only looked for me out of some warped sense of misplaced duty or if today’s mission compromised you in a way that’ll make you regret coming here tonight.”
Spock takes a moment to consider his response to Jim. He remembers that communication and vulnerability are vital to any relationship. Vulnerability has always been difficult for Spock, but for Jim, he will try.
“Jim, we are clan,” Spock explains.
“I had hoped,” Jim says, his eyes tracing the lines of Spock’s face. “That’s what it means, right? When I used your clan name and you didn’t try to strangle me on the bridge the next day.”
“Yes, but more importantly, you-you are my home.”
Spock can hear all the breath leave Jim in a rush. A smile breaks over his face in a way that will never stop being fascinating.
“All right then,” he says. “In that case, will you stay? Here, with me, for a while?”
There is a mess slowly cooling on Jim’s stomach and a damp spot on his mattress. They both require a shower and time perhaps to process this change in their relationship.
“For as long as you will have me,” Spock says instead.
“Awesome.”
Neither of them moves for a moment, but then Jim takes a deep breath and slowly slides back over to Spock. Gently, he pushes Spock until he is lying flat on his back and drapes his own body along the length of Spock’s. He takes another deep breath; Spock can feel the exhale as rush of cool air across his chest.
“Is this okay?”
“It will suffice,” Spock replies, haltingly placing one arm across the small of Jim’s back.
“Mmm, one day I’ll teach you how to not talk in perpetual understatement,” Jim murmurs. “I love fucking as much as the next guy, but sometimes, this is all I really want.”
“When did you know?” Jim asks suddenly, some time later. His breathing pattern has at last evened out, his head resting on his forearms over Spock’s stomach, a small crinkling around the corners of his eyes. “Like, for sure?”
It is somewhat astonishing that Spock understands what Jim means to ask from that appallingly vague question. He raises an eyebrow, which serves to let out the smile Jim has been no doubt trying to suppress.
“Fourteen days, three hours, and forty nine seconds ago,” Spock answers. He feels a shiver of happiness race through Jim’s body at that, one that lingers even after he has schooled his features to look mockingly serious. “When did you first realize your own-feelings-towards me?”
“Since you walked onto my bridge on the first day of our mission,” Jim says around another smile. “But, I dunno. Maybe always. I feel like I’ve always felt this way. You know?”
He does not know, but it is not so difficult to believe Jim in this, not when he is sprawled over Spock comfortably, as if he is a blanket designed specifically to bring Spock warmth and pleasure. He ghosts his arm up over Jim’s thigh, across the swell of his buttocks, and up the ridges of his spine. Jim shivers in response and plants a series of kisses along Spock’s neck, his own hands beginning to wander teasingly over Spock’s body.
They spend some time together in this manner-seconds Spock has no desire to count-before they are interrupted by Jim’s communicator beeping. Jim breathes out a small laugh, hidden against Spock’s chest suddenly.
“We need to send Miranda Jones like, a bouquet of flowers or something,” he says. “Maybe give her a pay raise.”
“I doubt Counselor Jones would desire nothing more from us than to maintain emotional engagement,” Spock counters.
Jim laughs out loud at that, looks as if he may respond to the statement when they are interrupted.
“Bridge to Captain Kirk,” Sulu’s voice says from across the room. “Captain Kirk, respond.”
Jim utters an obscenity and drops his head heavily against Spock’s chest.
“This better be important,” he says and levers himself off the bed. Spock feels his absence as a draft of cold air along his entire frame. He considers sitting up to find Jim’s bed sheets, as they seem to have been a casualty to their coupling, but one simmering look thrown over Jim’s shoulder as he steps into pants and pulls on his command shirt keep him in place for the moment. Once Jim is presentable, he sits down at his desk and says, “What is it, Sulu?”
“There’s a Commodore Westervliet requesting beam-up to our ship, sir,” he says. “Priority One.”
“Shit,” Jim answers. “Did he say what he wants?”
“No sir,” is Sulu’s response. “He said he wouldn’t share that information with anyone but you.”
Spock sits up at that, begins to scan the room quickly for his clothes.
“Well fuck,” Jim groans, casting a somewhat wistful look in Spock’s direction before he turns back to the console. “Approve his transport. I’ll meet him in the transporter room.”
“Aye sir.”
“Never a moment to ourselves,” Jim laments, watching Spock as he steps into pants and pulls on his black undershirt.
Spock lifts an eyebrow.
“Merely one aspect of captaining a starship,” Spock amends.
Jim smiles at that and looks away, a slight flush creeping up the back of his neck.
“You’re too damn hot in that undershirt,” he says, standing. “I’ve got to meet Westervliet, see what he wants. Meet me there?”
“Of course, Captain.”
Jim crosses to him quickly and places a soft kiss to Spock’s lips. Spock has to restrain himself from deepening it, as Jim is required in the transporter room very soon.
“See you soon,” he murmurs against Spock’s lips, and then he is gone, rushing out of his quarters and nearly tripping over a crewman walking by.
Spock allows himself a moment to bask in the familiarity of Jim’s rooms, knowing that he is trusted and welcome in his captain’s sanctuary, before he pulls on his science blues and does what he is now beginning to believe has been his destiny all along.
Spock follows him, but not before leaving a coded message for Jim on his console.
(3.3)(/1;9*4)(5.5+2;9.15.49+1)(5.53.57.3).
I am with you.
Mixer: jazzy_peaches
Summary: Even when they hate each other, they're still sort of falling in love.
Link to Art: This is how we are (but not how we're going to be)
Link to Mix: Judging From Picture Books
Masterpost
[part five]
They are in orbit around Ceti Gamma II, in a relatively uncharted area of space. Ensign Dasher, who had been manning the science console Gamma shift, noticed two unmistakable satellites orbiting the star. Commander Scott, as the commanding officer for Gamma shift, altered their course accordingly, and early Alpha shift Kirk excitedly begins putting together an away team to study the planet up close.
“Sulu, with me,” Kirk says after he sends messages to Lieutenant Laura from sciences and Ensign Euler from security. Lieutenant Giotto is presumably on his way to the transporter room as well. “Spock, take care of the ship while we’re out.”
Spock stands from his station and ignores the small twinge of disappointment that he will not be part of the away mission. He considers asking Jim to reconsider, but recalls their last meeting with Doctor Jones. He had explained how there are times when he is still assuaged by doubt over his ability to captain, and Spock knows now that his suggestions have often been misconstrued as veiled insults on Jim’s command decisions.
“Of course, Captain,” Spock decides, and is rewarded with a relieved smile from Jim.
With Jim and Lieutenant Sulu on the away mission, the bridge is very silent. Ensign Chekov is immersed in his work, presumably studying the surrounding space for anomalies. Nyota is monitoring the away team’s frequencies, as has become her habit. Spock’s replacement, a young ensign from the science department, has only just reached the bridge; zhe talks quietly with the ensign covering the helm.
There is no logical reason to feel apprehension; Spock has learned that Jim is more than capable of self-reliance. At any rate, it is a relatively safe mission, and preliminary readings suggest that there is no sapient life on the planet. Still, Spock sits very still in the Captain’s chair, intently watching the way Ceti Gamma creates a halo of light around the surface of the planet.
“Kirk to bridge.”
“Spock here,” he responds, perhaps too urgently than he would have had he truly felt no apprehension.
“Spock.” Far from sounding anxious or panicked, Jim’s voice is full of quiet mirth. “Spock, is Uhura around? Can you get her to link the viewscreen with Sulu’s tricorder? He’s added a vid-recorder. You guys’ve got to see this place.”
“On it, sir,” Uhura says from her station, crossing to an area of her console just out of reach from her seat. Within moments, the planet in orbit is replaced by a view of the landscape. “Got it. Streaming, Captain.”
There is a quiet intake of breath from the science console at the sight.
“Oh wow,” the yeoman says from the helm.
The away team seems to have beamed directly into a large mineral valley. There is no plant-life in their field of vision; instead, a seemingly endless plain of glittering black rock unfolds before the away team, some portions so lustrous they look for a moment to be carved of black glass. To their right, perhaps forty-five meters away, curves the shoreline for a large body of liquid, shining a grayish blue in the afternoon light.
“Is zat planet entirely quartz?” Chekov asks, looking up from his readings.
“Volcanic silica glass,” Sulu says from the planet, almost as if he had heard Chekov’s question. The viewscreen goes dark for a second, and when the viewfeed returns, they find Sulu has overlaid his initial scans over the image.
“Obsidian?” Uhura asks. “How can a planet be covered with that much volcanic rock?”
Pale, semi-transparent graphs and percentiles hover over the away team as Sulu crosses to where Jim remains standing, looking out over the valley.
“Do you see this, Commander?” Kirk asks into his communicator, his voice lagging seconds from the image they see. “It’s amazing!”
“I see it, Captain,” Spock responds, letting his eyes travel across the formations of dark igneous rock and back to Jim.
“Commander, I’m detecting a large, unidentified mass on our sensors,” Yeoman Uzaveh says from the science console.
“Onscreen.” The last image Spock sees is of Sulu undoubtedly turning away from the Captain, to where a small, dense patch of dark green vegetation looms in the distance before the screen switches to the orbital view again. The mass Uzaveh detected is still thousands of kilometers away; it appears only as a speck just above Ceti Gamma II. “Magnify.”
At twenty times magnification, the object is revealed to be a large, oblong-shaped asteroid. Its ghostly shape inches towards them as they watch, no doubt hurtling through space at tens of thousands of kilometers per hour.
“Map its trajectory, Ensign Chekov,” Spock says sharply, refusing to believe that an asteroid of all occurrences should spoil an uneventful mission. “Bridge to Captain,” he adds, pressing the comm link button on the Captain’s chair with perhaps more force than strictly necessary.
“Yeah, Spock?” Jim’s voice is full of mirth, so unlike the strained cadence he’d used less than four days previous, dealing with the aftermath of the ion storm himself once he’d ordered Spock to get some rest.
“Captain, it would be expedient if you gathered the away team for possible beam-up.”
There is a pause on the line before he answers.
“What’s wrong, Spock?”
“Possibly nothing, sir,” Spock assuages, knowing that Jim is no doubt imagining Klingon warbirds and other illogical events. “Only, stand by to recall the away team.”
“Keep me posted,” is Jim’s brusque reply before the line is terminated.
“Commander,” Chekov prompts, spinning in his seat to stare at him with shocked, round eyes. “By my calculations, it will hit ze planet with a glancing blow.”
Spock does not need to be told that an object the asteroid’s mass, at even a glancing blow, will cause massive devastation to the planetary surface. It is doubtful if any life will survive the crash and its aftereffects.
“In how long?”
“Four hours, perhaps less.”
At least none of the crew is in any immediate danger, Spock reasons.
“Kirk to Spock,” Spock’s personal communicator says. “Are we gonna get blown up anytime in the immediate future?”
“Negative, sir. However, a situation has developed that requires your input.”
“There’s always something,” Jim says before ending the communication.
“Chekov, with me,” Spock calls, already heading towards the turbolift. “Lieutenant Uhura, you have the bridge.”
By the time they reach the turbolift, Euler and Laura have already beamed up, along with several rock, water, and plant samples for testing. Lieutenant Laura also brings up a small, reptilian-looking animal under the pretense of archival research and observation. Jim, Sulu, and Giotto rematerialize on the platform as Laura makes for the science labs to catalogue their findings.
“All right, Mr. Spock,” Jim says as he steps down from the platform. “Tell me the problem.”
Spock explains the situation quickly as they ride the turbolift to the bridge. Sulu and Chekov follow, half a step behind them when the Captain bursts onto the bridge.
“How far is it?” he asks, watching the viewscreen for several long seconds. The asteroid fills the viewscreen now, tumbling over itself in empty space.
“Approximately three hours, forty-eight minutes, sir,” Uzaveh says from the science console, moving away from the station as Spock approaches.
Jim sits, without taking his eyes off the asteroid.
“Uhura, call an emergency tactical meeting in my conference room. Fifteen minutes.”
“Aye sir.”
“Spock, with me,” Jim says, rising abruptly from his chair and crossing to the ready room without another word.
Inside, Jim is pacing quickly, his hands behind his back. He does not appear to notice Spock’s presence. Suddenly, he stops before his desk, his back to Spock.
“There’s civilized life on that planet,” he says quietly, turning to Spock and revealing a large arrowhead shining in the palm of his hand. It is black, and when Jim delicately grabs it with his other hand to hold up into the light, Spock can see a myriad of colors swirling inside. Obsidian then, he thinks as Jim places the object on the surface of his desk. “Or something resembling a hunter-gatherer society, anyway. We didn’t see any of them, but we found a couple of these in the area.”
“I see.”
“Does that change how we approach this situation?” he asks.
Spock clasps his hands behind his back and approaches the desk. The arrowhead is almost paper-thin, and its edges gleam with deadly silence in the overhead lighting. It is not yet fossilized, and neither has it yet lost any of its gleam from regular use. He can extrapolate that this item was carved very recently.
“With sapient life on that planet, the Prime Directive is in effect,” Spock finally decides. “However, I do not anticipate this revelation to have any bearing on how we will handle this situation.”
Unless the Captain had expected an evacuation of the planet, which would have been inadvisable. Jim however, just nods once, tightly, the tense line of his shoulders refusing to relax.
“Spock,” he starts, looking to him, then away again. He picks the arrowhead up again and carefully turns it over in his palms. “I need you to-I need to know you’re with me in this.”
“I am,” Spock says, lilts the phrase almost like a question.
“I mean, later, at our makeshift conference. Yeah, you’re allowed to disagree with me obviously, I mean, it’s kind of your job And I probably won’t have any ideas anyway which is kind of the point of a conference, I would think-”
“Captain,” Spock prompts, watching the way Jim resumes his pacing.
“Right,” he responds. “My point is that you and I, we’re doing good. Better than good. Great at this communicating thing. But it’s-hard to remember that when the entire bridge crew is watching us like they’re afraid we’re about to shoot each other with phasers set to disintegrate. So. I mean, you can disagree with my decision, if you feel like it’s the worst thing ever. That’s your right. Just. Can you lodge your complaints with me, alone? Afterwards?”
Spock doubts that the entire bridge crew experiences this fear. However, Spock understands Jim’s uncertainty in this case, and so he does not express his doubt. Instead, he takes two measured steps, designed to cease Jim’s nervous pacing.
“Captain,” Spock says again, then amends himself. “Jim. Whatever your decision, I am with you.”
It is rather fascinating how that simple statement is enough to drain the tension from Jim’s body. He smiles, slow and obviously relieved, and Spock feels his breath catch inexplicably in his lungs.
“Okay,” Jim breathes, runs a hand through his hair. The beginnings of a flush spring to life along the tops of Jim’s cheekbones, a sight that momentarily requires all of Spock’s attention. “Okay,” he says again, this time louder. “Let’s go then.”
“Can’t we just blow it up?” Giotto says later, after they have all gathered in the conference room.
“We’d have to get directly in front of it to make sure none of the blown-up bits hit the planet,” Lieutenant Marleau says from across the table. “The risk of serious damage to us is unacceptable.”
She and Sulu are Joint-Chiefs of Tactical, while Giotto is Head of Security. Also present at this conference are Ensign Chekov, Doctor McCoy, and Lieutenant Commander Madeline in Commander Scott’s stead-who is Ariolo and therefore has no surname.
“What about the tractor beam?” Madeline asks in the ensuing silence.
“We would need to move at exactly same speed as ze asteroid to stop it,” Chekov responds. “Ewen then, we would only slow it down. It would not change course of asteroid.”
“A slow asteroid is better than one hurtling at 3000 kilometers per second,” Madeline argues. “We could probably slow it down enough for us to get in front of it safely. Maybe then we could blow it up.”
“The ship would still be in danger,” Sulu says. “Anytime you break apart something that big, its remaining bits can go anywhere.”
Throughout this conversation, Jim has been pacing around the length of the room, clearly agitated.
“What do you think, Spock?” he says suddenly, stopping at the farthest viewport and staring out into space. Spock wonders for a moment if he is perhaps searching the darkness for any hint of the object of their discussion.
“It is not necessarily within our purview to prevent this collision,” Spock says, not because he agrees with the statement but because it must be said.
Jim spins around to face him at that, looks as if he is about to speak when someone at the conference table does so.
“Now wait just a damn minute.” It is, expectedly, Doctor McCoy who is the first to respond to Spock’s statement, although the disbelief on Jim’s face is more worrying to Spock than the outrage McCoy is exposing. “You can’t seriously be considering not doing anything?”
Spock raises an eyebrow. He believes the colloquialism for his actions now is “playing Devil’s Advocate.”
“The strictest interpretation of the Prime Directive implies total noninterference. This includes allowing nature to run its course.”
“Why you heartless, green-blooded-”
“Bones,” Jim says firmly.
He begins to cross to where Spock is seated, and it is then that he realizes Jim was correct in his earlier assessment of the crew. The tension rises in the room with every step Jim takes, and Chekov, Sulu, Marleau, Giotto, and Madeline all avert their gazes when Jim stops point nine-seven meters away.
“Starfleet is a humanitarian, peace-keeping armada,” Jim says, his expression unreadable. “As such it’s our duty to provide aid to sapient life, whether preemptively or otherwise.”
After three point seven seconds, Spock inclines his head.
“Assuming that you do not mean to reveal this ship or its crew to the inhabitants of Ceti Gamma II, I will accept your logic,” he states and is rewarded by the incredulously pleased look that crosses Jim’s face. “And, provided that our mission report contains such verbiage, I will have no qualms with proceeding further.”
There is a somewhat uncertain silence after Spock’s proclamation. However, Marleau does finally clear her throat and begins to speak.
“If we are able to slice through the asteroid without disintegrating it, there would be a high probability of the two pieces missing the planet entirely.”
“A concentrated phaser blast of such duration has a ninety-seven point nine percent probability of burning out our energy banks,” Spock adds.
“So we’d only have one shot at it,” Jim says. “And if that doesn’t work?”
“We would have to get directly in front of asteroid for plan to work,” Chekov says.
The implication is clear: if they do not succeed in bisecting the asteroid, they would be left in its collision course with few resources to move them out of the way. They could very well be destroyed in the attempt.
“Do it,” Jim says. “Chekov, Sulu, get back on the bridge and plot an intercept course with the asteroid. I want to get to it before it’s visible to anyone on Ceti Gamma II.”
“Aye sir.”
“Madeline, get down to engineering. I want our tractor beam ready by the time we’re ready to blow it up.”
Madeline nods and exits along with Sulu and Chekov. The others seem to take that as a cue to excuse themselves as well, as soon, the conference room is empty save for Jim, himself, and Doctor McCoy. It is very obvious that Doctor McCoy is anxious to create a verbal conflict of sorts, but Jim merely makes a jerky motion with one of his hands to stay the doctor’s altercation.
“Later, Bones.” He turns to Spock then; they lock eyes for an interminable moment. “ Etwel Worl’Qjunirr,” he says. “Will it work?”
He has not heard Jim pronounce Spock’s clan name like it is his right; the effect is immediate and almost overwhelming. Indeed, he is stunned into silence for two point seven seconds. It is however, a small enough span of time that neither human would notice. Therefore, Spock merely inclines his head once he regains his composure.
“There is a significant chance of risk to our ship and crew,” he begins, “however the probability of success does outweigh the probability of failure.”
Finally, Jim smiles again.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, turns on his heel and bounds out of the room.
“What did he call you just now?” Doctor McCoy asks once Jim has exited. “Because it sounded a hell of a lot like an endearment to me.”
“I have no comment on the matter,” Spock says, and follows Jim onto the bridge before he can see the look that crosses the Doctor’s face.
On the bridge, everyone is silent as the necessary calculations are put into effect. Spock lets his gaze flicker between his science station and Jim before crossing and standing at Jim’s side.
The asteroid fills up the viewscreen, dark and ominous as they race towards it.
“In position, sir,” Sulu says.
“Kirk to Engineering. Are our phaser banks ready?”
“Aye sir,” Madeline’s voice says from Jim’s chair. “We’re good to go down here.”
“Fire on my command,” he informs tactical. “Fire.”
On the viewscreen, the red pulsating beams of continuous phaser fire are nearly blinding. A Terran colloquialism springs to mind as Spock watches a deep crack form along the center of the asteriod: it appears to be moving in slow-motion. It is strange, since he knows splitting an asteroid with a diameter this size would in fact take a large amount of time. Still, the phrase sticks, and it echoes in Spock's mind with Jim's voice.
"Engines exceeding the max for safe temperature, Captain," Madeline's disembodied voice says.
"Keep at it, Lieutenant," Jim says, and then almost to himself, "She'll hold."
"Asteriod is breaking apart, Keptin."
"Awesome, Chekov, thanks."
"Captain, engines overheating-"
Several things happen at once before Lieutenant Madeline finishes her statement. The Enterprise shudders violently as its engines start to fail. The lights flicker ominously and they are plunged into darkness for several seconds until auxiliary power starts up, and the asteroid breaks apart without a sound on the viewscreen.
For a moment, it is completely quiet on the bridge. Then--
"Well, shit," Jim says. It earns a weak chuckle from several members of the crew. "Report."
It is as if the bridge had only been waiting for Jim's word. Almost at once the crew hastens to obey the order.
"Emergency communications only, sir. Informing engineering to use the emergency internal channel--"
"Tactical unresponsive, Captain."
"Running on auxiliary power only-"
"I can get us moving in an hour, Captain, maybe half if someone gets Scotty down here--"
"Uhura, page Scotty, I need this ship moving again," Jim says when there is a brief pause around him. "Spock, ETA on that asteroid's coordinates, and will we make it through the gap?"
Spock crosses to his station quickly and finds the necessary information.
"Estimated time of arrival is two minutes, fourteen seconds," Spock answers. "In that space of time the two separate halves of the asteroid will have separated an estimated point zero zero zero seven parsecs. It is enough distance for Enterprise to pass through unscathed."
"Chekov, map the trajectory of each of those asteroid bits," Jim says after a quick nod to Spock.
"Aye, Keptin."
"Scott here, Captain," Commander Scott says, sounding indignant. "I leave the lass to sleep and you wreck her engines?"
"Fix it, Scotty," Jim answers, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Ask Madeline to fill you in on the details."
"Aye sir. We'll have her moving in thirty minutes."
"Awesome. Keep me updated."
The line is cut momentarily, but then Scott's voice fills the bridge again.
"No 'that's not good enough,' Captain?" he asks. "You sure you're feeling all right?"
Jim laughs at that. He looks down at his armrest and glances quickly towards Spock before answering.
"Yeah," he says. "Just get us moving."
"Keptin," Chekov says then. "I have the trajectories mapped. One piece has a radial velocity that has almost stopped. The other, its path has high probability of hitting ze planet still."
"Fuck. How bad?"
"It will enter the planet's atmosphere," Chekov responds, swiveling in his seat so he is facing Jim. "If lucky, it will explode atmospherically before it hits ze surface."
"That's what we're hoping for?" Jim asks, levering himself out of his chair. Spock knows what he is thinking.
The asteroid, even broken in half, is still large enough to cause devastation to life on Ceti Gamma II. If it impacts the surface, it is unlikely that any life will survive at all. However, exploding above the surface would not yield a better save-to-loss ratio either.
"Is there anything else we can try?" Marleau asks from tactical.
"We're immobile until engineering powers up the main power," Sulu answers, watching Jim pace the length of the bridge.
"Best case scenario, we're moving at full impulse in twenty minutes," Jim says. "If Scotty works some magic, we may have warp two within the hour. But even then, it'd still take us--"
"Three days, twelve hours, fifty-two minutes traveling at full impulse," Spock supplies when Jim looks his way. "At warp two it will take twenty one hours to reach Ceti Gamma II."
"Too late to beat the asteroid there," Sulu says after a quiet moment.
His voice is hushed, as if realizing the full scope of the problem. Jim too appears affected; he stops mid-stride and looks out into space, eyes darting from distant star-system to distant star-system.
“I refuse to believe we’ve exhausted all our resources,” Jim says quietly. “I need more options. Spock?”
Spock sweeps his gaze around the bridge once, taking in every pair of eyes trained on them. He straightens his spine and stands, clasping his hands behind his back.
“There are none available to us, Captain,” Spock says.
They cannot move faster than a slow crawl through space at this time, and because they are running on auxiliary power, the tractor beam is currently non-operative. The high-intensity phaser blast blew their phaser banks. They cannot fire a photon torpedo on auxiliary power, and by the time they have enough power to do so, the asteroid will be too close to Ceti Gamma II to risk firing.
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Jim says, his voice calmer than what Spock would have expected. He moves to one of the wall communicators and switches it to the emergency internal channel. "Bridge to Engineering. Tell me you've got good news."
Spock turns his gaze to the viewscreen, and for a moment he is positive that he sees Vulcan collapsing in on itself again.
"Can't sir," is Scott’s response. Spock blinks and forces the image from his mind. "Unless you want me lying to you. The engines are almost fried, aren't they? Don't know who put together the lass' defensive coding, but you can bet your arse it'll be fixed before you can say 'starbase' after this. Whose bright idea was it to wire the phaser banks directly into the mainframe, then? Any first year cadet would tell you it compromises the lasting power of the engines!"
"Give me a time, Scotty," Jim says, impatience finally lacing his voice.
"Still a way to go, sir," Scott's voice says. "Just got the impulse engines online, but if you're looking to go faster than a merry stroll it'll be another couple hours, at least."
"Find a way, Scotty."
"Always do, sir."
Jim remains standing by the wall for five seconds after that, before visibly straightening again and facing the crew. At that moment, Spock receives a message from the science deck requesting his help on unrelated issues. It strikes Spock suddenly that over forty percent of their crew would not know how close they all just came to destruction. Likewise, approximately eighty one percent will never know that a planet with an unknown population is about to experience a mass extinction despite their best efforts.
It is unsettling, to realize that so many lives are about to be lost and there is little they can do to prevent it. Unsettling also, that so much of their crew will never know nor care to find out.
"Take the bridge, Spock,” Jim says suddenly. “I’m going to fill out some paperwork.”
Spock almost misses the statement; he blinks and looks over to where Jim disappears behind the sliding doors to his ready room. He cannot quite focus at the moment. He keeps thinking of the asteroid, how much it must have slowed down by now and the way they cannot hope to intercept it. It will be hours before the asteroid hits Ceti Gamma II, and it feels then as if he will spend every minute of them replaying the incident over in his mind, looking for anything they could have done differently.
Jim does not emerge from his ready room until after the shift ends. Spock spends the time sitting almost motionless in the Captain’s chair while every illogical thought tells him that Jim requires his support more than the bridge crew. He considers waiting for Jim to exit into the bridge, but in the four hours left in alpha shift he has received two more messages from Sciences requesting his presence. At any rate, Spock doubts he would be very good company at the moment.
He heads down to deck seven, all the while trying to keep today's mission out of his head. However, upon reaching the Science deck, the first crewmember to approach him is Lieutenant Gabrielle Laura, one of the scientists who set foot on Ceti Gamma II. She is Denebian, and when she frowns, she emits a low frequency hum to show her distress. She is doing so now, even as a strange four-legged animal trails after her happily.
"I heard we broke orbit around Ceti Gamma II," she says. "Is there a reason why? Does it have anything to do with our power shorting out earlier?"
"Yes," Spock answers, clasping his hands behind his back (because it is too much effort to keep them from trembling slightly at his sides). "We discovered an asteroid with a trajectory which would effectively annihilate the planet entirely which we were forced to confront."
"Oh," the lieutenant says. "Is it okay? I need to get this little guy home."
Here, she indicates to the animal at her heels, and Spock remembers then that Laura had indeed brought an animal on board for observation. It is perhaps no larger than a large Terran cat, with large hexagonal scales covering its body. It has long yellow eyes that blink sideways when it looks up at Spock. It is almost completely black, with only small whorls of glittering red spotting its body. Spock thinks of the terrain of Ceti Gamma II and infers that this creature would have been nearly invisible even in broad daylight. In several hours it may be the only surviving member of its species.
He wonders if this creature had a family it might have returned to, if it lives in groups or wanders its native land as a solitary animal.
"‘Okay’ has variable definitions, Lieutenant," Spock says.
He wants to tell her suddenly that no, it is not 'all right,' but such a statement is vague and too emotional, and so he merely explains to her the details necessary for her to understand. The humming returns then, at a higher frequency, a trait which indicates severe distress to Denebians; she looks down at the animal and gently picks it up.
"Sir, with your permission, I'd like to keep her then."
"It is not within my purview to allow you to keep pets," Spock says slowly. "However, I will file a request for you with the head of Health and Services, and carefully explain the circumstances. I do not foresee any complications arising should you wish to keep this animal."
"Thank you, sir," she says, wiping discreetly at the corner of her eye. "I really appreciate it."
"Thanks are unnecessary," Spock says by rote. "Is there something else which required my presence?"
"Yes," she answers, shaking her head and letting the low hum slowly dissipate. "Um, Ensign Dasher's project on human-like androids crashed during the short, and none of us have been able to recover it. We were hoping you could help."
He spends far longer than he had originally anticipated helping Dasher locate much of his original data, and so it is late in Gamma shift when Spock is finally at liberty to look for Jim. Taking his mind off of a Ceti Gamma II is helpful, but cannot last long. Eventually, even the tedium of combing through lines of code for old data no longer distracts him.
Spock is fatigued, yes, but he has a suspicion that Jim himself will be even more so, and that he is not asleep either. Sure enough, when Spock chimes for entry into Jim's quarters, there is only a minimal pause before the doors slide open.
Jim’s quarters are dimly lit, and when he steps in he hears Jim’s soft footsteps before he appears at the doorway to his sleeping area. He is in a faded black shirt and a pair of black pants that are slung low on his hips. His eyes look almost turquoise in the dim light, and overly-bright. He looks much younger than twenty-six, lost, and very beautiful.
“Hey,” he says softly, running a hand along one side of his face. “Should have known you’d stop by.”
“I regret I could not come earlier,” Spock says, letting his hands fall to his sides. “I was delayed in Sciences. Did I wake you?”
“No,” Jim answers, closing his eyes for a moment and running his fingertips roughly along the line of his jaw. There is dark stubble growing there, Spock notices, and is distracted for a minute, imagining his own fingers tracing that same path along Jim’s jaw. “I couldn’t sleep.”
"Jim, I wished to speak with you regarding today's mission."
"You mean today's failure?" Jim retorts, with enough bitterness in his voice that Spock takes a tentative step towards him. Jim's eyes snap up to him, dart away quickly. "We broke orbit four hours ago. I let Pike know what happened."
"We exhausted all our resources," Spock says firmly. "Jim, there was nothing else to be done."
"That's what Pike said," Jim responds. "He kept saying sometimes a gamble pays off, and sometimes it doesn't. The important thing is that you try." He pauses here, turns away and crosses back to his bed, where he sits heavily on the edge. "I just. I kept thinking about Vulcan. How we could have done things differently and all those life forms wouldn't have died."
"Kadiidth, Jim," Spock says, knowing that Jim will understand him. He hovers in the doorway to Jim's sleeping area for a moment before making a decision. He steps inside. "You were not the only one whose thoughts strayed to Vulcan today on the bridge." Jim looks up with just his eyes, makes it so very tempting to reach out and cradle Jim's face in his palms. "We were not at fault today."
He thinks that maybe if he can force Jim to believe it, then perhaps he too will find it easier to confront the reality of this situation.
"I made us watch," Jim says quietly. He looks back down at the floor. Spock kneels before him, resists the urge to place his hands on either side of Jim's legs. "Until the asteroid collided with Ceti Gamma II. We all thought for a second that it would burn up in the atmosphere, but no luck. Chekov said that there's a high chance fifty percent of the planet's population might survive after the dust and poisons dissipate from the air. Fifty percent, Spock."
"Then it will have a better survival rate than Vulcan," Spock says, and surprisingly, it is said without jealousy. Finally, he gives in to the urge and haltingly places his hand along Jim’s cheek, his index finger millimeters away from the psi points along his temple. A faint spark of psychic activity sparks along Spock's skin there, and he realizes suddenly that this is the first time he has ever touched Jim, skin to skin, since the moment he nearly choked the man on the bridge.
"Jim," he says lightly, watching the way the other's jaw clenches as he looks up. "Do you remember Lieutenant Laura bringing a reptilian-like animal from the planet's surface?" When Jim nods slowly, Spock continues. "It is still aboard, and she has every intention of keeping it. Its name is Annabeth."
Jim blinks thrice in rapid succession before a brilliant smile spreads over his face. He lets out a breath of a laugh and leans over the last point three five meters separating them until they are so close their breath commingles between them.
"Spock," he says quietly, and it sounds as if the noise has been ripped out of him almost against his will. "I just. I need-"
And so Spock closes the final hairsbreadth gap between them and kisses him. Jim makes a small, keening noise in the back of his throat and slides off the bed, until he is kneeling beside Spock, his hands slowly dragging up Spock’s arms. Jim tilts his head slightly, drags his tongue wetly across the crevice of Spock’s lips. He opens his mouth tentatively, and then Jim is there again, suddenly all around him, the depth of his feeling crashing over Spock as Jim inadvertently grazes one of the hidden psi points along the back of Spock’s scalp.
Spock inhales sharply, curls his tongue around Jim’s, wanting, needing to feel him. Jim, he wants to whisper, but cannot pause long enough to utter it. His free hand wanders along Jim’s thigh, slips beneath his shirt and soaks in Jim’s happiness/need/lust as it drags hotly against skin. Jim arches into the touch, drops his head back slightly and from there it is so easy for Spock to reposition the fingers of his right hand, until with a flash of heat he feels Jim’s mind close to his before even initiating the meld.
“Let me,” Spock finally whispers into the skin of Jim’s throat, wrapping his arm around Jim’s waist to keep him close.
“Yes, yes, please, Spock,” Jim says, almost a chant. “Need you so bad, for so long, come on, Spock-”
So he does. It is easy; their minds are so compatible that Spock only has to beckon Jim’s mind to him before they are one. They groan simultaneously, somehow end up on the bed with Jim stretched out underneath Spock, their clothes discarded haphazardly with Spock so focused on their mental link. One of Spock’s knees slips between Jim’s thighs as he arches wantonly up into the friction it provides.
“Spock, I need-”
“Yes,” he says again, repositions his fingers along Jim’s face and dives in again, deeper this time, until he loses almost all sense of his body except that Jim is here, under him at last. “Deeper, Spock, more,” Jim breathes against Spock’s lips. “Want to feel you, Spock-”
Yes, Spock does not say, knows Jim can hear it anyway from the fresh wave of desire that pours off every inch of skin under him. They have a conversation with images in Spock’s head of just how long Jim has wanted this, Jim lying on his bed penetrating himself with his sex toy, imagining Spock in its stead. He moans in response, and he is already dripping with self-lubrication, so in one agonizing movement slides into Jim. Jim’s back arches off the bed, his eyes snapping open, inhaling and inhaling as if he cannot quite get enough air. Spock captures his lips in a searing kiss, bringing his other hand up and searching blindly for the psi points along the other side of his face. Jim’s fingers dragging along Spock’s back, urging him to move.
Almost, Jim, almost, Spock assures him, and yes, there, he feels a sharp spasm of pleasure and instinctively dives in again, finally pulling out of Jim slowly, snapping back in when Jim’s whimper becomes a long, low moan.
“Yes, yes, just like that,” Jim moans, tilting his hips and offering himself up to Spock.
Spock pushes into him, again and again, licking up the sweat that slides into the hollow of Jim’s neck, both his hands glued to Jim’s face. Mine, he thinks, at the swell of Jim’s lips. Mind, body, and katra, if you will have me, Jim-
“Fuck, Spock, yes,” Jim pants. “Love you, love you, so fucking much, for so fucking long, Spock, Spock-”
“Yes, Jim, Ashayam, always,” Spock returns, licking into his mouth.
He feels it when every muscle in Jim’s body contracts around him, feels the pull of pleasure in his mind when orgasm finally hits him, and after that it is only seconds before Spock follows him into climax.
Spock collapses atop Jim for a moment,alskjdf
“So, um,” Jim says, sitting up and dropping his feet to the floor. He smiles sheepishly at the ground. “That kind of happened.”
“Yes,” Spock agrees. He too, sits up. Without the immediate demands of his body clouding Spock’s judgment, he is now suddenly unsure. Jim’s body language suggests that he is tense, perhaps regretting what has just transpired between them. “Was it-objectionable?”
“What? No,” Jim answers, looking up. He runs one of his hands through his hair. “Look, honestly, that was one of the greatest things I’ve ever experienced. Only, I need to know if you only looked for me out of some warped sense of misplaced duty or if today’s mission compromised you in a way that’ll make you regret coming here tonight.”
Spock takes a moment to consider his response to Jim. He remembers that communication and vulnerability are vital to any relationship. Vulnerability has always been difficult for Spock, but for Jim, he will try.
“Jim, we are clan,” Spock explains.
“I had hoped,” Jim says, his eyes tracing the lines of Spock’s face. “That’s what it means, right? When I used your clan name and you didn’t try to strangle me on the bridge the next day.”
“Yes, but more importantly, you-you are my home.”
Spock can hear all the breath leave Jim in a rush. A smile breaks over his face in a way that will never stop being fascinating.
“All right then,” he says. “In that case, will you stay? Here, with me, for a while?”
There is a mess slowly cooling on Jim’s stomach and a damp spot on his mattress. They both require a shower and time perhaps to process this change in their relationship.
“For as long as you will have me,” Spock says instead.
“Awesome.”
Neither of them moves for a moment, but then Jim takes a deep breath and slowly slides back over to Spock. Gently, he pushes Spock until he is lying flat on his back and drapes his own body along the length of Spock’s. He takes another deep breath; Spock can feel the exhale as rush of cool air across his chest.
“Is this okay?”
“It will suffice,” Spock replies, haltingly placing one arm across the small of Jim’s back.
“Mmm, one day I’ll teach you how to not talk in perpetual understatement,” Jim murmurs. “I love fucking as much as the next guy, but sometimes, this is all I really want.”
“When did you know?” Jim asks suddenly, some time later. His breathing pattern has at last evened out, his head resting on his forearms over Spock’s stomach, a small crinkling around the corners of his eyes. “Like, for sure?”
It is somewhat astonishing that Spock understands what Jim means to ask from that appallingly vague question. He raises an eyebrow, which serves to let out the smile Jim has been no doubt trying to suppress.
“Fourteen days, three hours, and forty nine seconds ago,” Spock answers. He feels a shiver of happiness race through Jim’s body at that, one that lingers even after he has schooled his features to look mockingly serious. “When did you first realize your own-feelings-towards me?”
“Since you walked onto my bridge on the first day of our mission,” Jim says around another smile. “But, I dunno. Maybe always. I feel like I’ve always felt this way. You know?”
He does not know, but it is not so difficult to believe Jim in this, not when he is sprawled over Spock comfortably, as if he is a blanket designed specifically to bring Spock warmth and pleasure. He ghosts his arm up over Jim’s thigh, across the swell of his buttocks, and up the ridges of his spine. Jim shivers in response and plants a series of kisses along Spock’s neck, his own hands beginning to wander teasingly over Spock’s body.
They spend some time together in this manner-seconds Spock has no desire to count-before they are interrupted by Jim’s communicator beeping. Jim breathes out a small laugh, hidden against Spock’s chest suddenly.
“We need to send Miranda Jones like, a bouquet of flowers or something,” he says. “Maybe give her a pay raise.”
“I doubt Counselor Jones would desire nothing more from us than to maintain emotional engagement,” Spock counters.
Jim laughs out loud at that, looks as if he may respond to the statement when they are interrupted.
“Bridge to Captain Kirk,” Sulu’s voice says from across the room. “Captain Kirk, respond.”
Jim utters an obscenity and drops his head heavily against Spock’s chest.
“This better be important,” he says and levers himself off the bed. Spock feels his absence as a draft of cold air along his entire frame. He considers sitting up to find Jim’s bed sheets, as they seem to have been a casualty to their coupling, but one simmering look thrown over Jim’s shoulder as he steps into pants and pulls on his command shirt keep him in place for the moment. Once Jim is presentable, he sits down at his desk and says, “What is it, Sulu?”
“There’s a Commodore Westervliet requesting beam-up to our ship, sir,” he says. “Priority One.”
“Shit,” Jim answers. “Did he say what he wants?”
“No sir,” is Sulu’s response. “He said he wouldn’t share that information with anyone but you.”
Spock sits up at that, begins to scan the room quickly for his clothes.
“Well fuck,” Jim groans, casting a somewhat wistful look in Spock’s direction before he turns back to the console. “Approve his transport. I’ll meet him in the transporter room.”
“Aye sir.”
“Never a moment to ourselves,” Jim laments, watching Spock as he steps into pants and pulls on his black undershirt.
Spock lifts an eyebrow.
“Merely one aspect of captaining a starship,” Spock amends.
Jim smiles at that and looks away, a slight flush creeping up the back of his neck.
“You’re too damn hot in that undershirt,” he says, standing. “I’ve got to meet Westervliet, see what he wants. Meet me there?”
“Of course, Captain.”
Jim crosses to him quickly and places a soft kiss to Spock’s lips. Spock has to restrain himself from deepening it, as Jim is required in the transporter room very soon.
“See you soon,” he murmurs against Spock’s lips, and then he is gone, rushing out of his quarters and nearly tripping over a crewman walking by.
Spock allows himself a moment to bask in the familiarity of Jim’s rooms, knowing that he is trusted and welcome in his captain’s sanctuary, before he pulls on his science blues and does what he is now beginning to believe has been his destiny all along.
Spock follows him, but not before leaving a coded message for Jim on his console.
(3.3)(/1;9*4)(5.5+2;9.15.49+1)(5.53.57.3).
I am with you.