Transatlanticism (3/11)
Title: Title and Registration
Length: ~2600
Rating: PG-13
Warnings:Mild alcohol consumption, Eventual slash, Some profanity
Summary: AU, Spock moves to Earth to deal with a personal crisis and meets Jim, a charismatic photographer who has also recently left his home. Based off of the Death Cab for Cutie album.
A/N: Each chapter is based off of its respective track on the album- listening to the accompanying song is ideal, but not necessary. All comments/criticisms/suggestions are ALWAYS welcome!!!
Jim paused, hanging half out of his doorway, when he heard the comm ring just inside. He looked forlornly down the hall, but making a quick decision, turned to step back inside. He moved across the floor quickly if not gracefully and stopped at the comm on the kitchen counter. The screen displayed his mother's name and as he reached to accept the call with reflexive excitement he hesitated. She had been calling intermittently throughout the last two weeks, but he hadn't had the courage to answer just yet. The last time they had talked was some months back when he had called her outside of a crowded roadside diner. At first he hadn't wanted anyone to know where he had gone- just an old fashioned bolt in the night scenario- But having a missing person's filed wasn't exactly what he had been looking for either. Additionally, he couldn't deal with the guilt that roiled in his gut at the thought of his mother worrying herself sick at his disappearance, perhaps even thinking him dead. Now, he thought of how great it would be to hear her voice again, to tell her about his new job and the quiet Vulcan that he had so recently become enamored with. But he let his hand slip from the receiver, not quite ready to explain why he had left yet, especially not to her.
Jim rushed into the brightly lit gallery and hurried over to the small corner that had been assigned for his exhibit. He stopped in front of the black and white photos that had been artfully arranged on the wall and groaned. He had briefly forgotten the inherent memories that the prints on the wall were associated with and was unprepared for the swell of emotion that came with them. Weeks back they had all picked the pieces that they wished to put on show and with his usual amount of foresight and grace he had provided the layout before him. All of the photos had an 'antique composition' and displayed various landscapes framed by a car window, each location vastly different from the last. They were arranged so that they drew the eye to the center- the largest frame displaying a woman with smooth, dark skin and ebony hair flowing behind her in waves, laughing in the passenger seat. "She is quite beautiful is she not?" Jim jumped at the sound of the quiet, somber voice in his ear.
"Oh, hey Spock!" Jim fidgeted, straightening his clothes while taking in the solemn demeanor of the Vulcan beside him. "She um, ya she is." he pulled his fingers through his hair and smiled sheepishly. "We used date when I lived in Iowa." He thought that maybe he had seen Spock's eyes flash momentarily at the statement, but it passed so quickly that maybe the emotion had been merely imagined.
"I had deduced as much." Spock gave him a measured look and then turned to walk calmly back to his own space- a handful of onlookers beginning to gather around his charcoal and oil pastel drawings. Jim couldn't help the brief pout that pulled at his lips as he wondered how long he'd been staring at the photographs and how many customers he'd accidentally blown off. With only the slightest hesitation he followed Spock's graceful steps, but stayed back with the other observers as he listened to the soothing cadence of Spock's voice explaining whichever piece they might be interested in. A haughty smirk crawled its way across Jim's face as he noticed that Spock's centerpiece was the charcoal sketch of his torso, unchanged from the day he had first seen it- the day he had first seen Spock. With mock innocence he raised his hand to catch Spock's attention, and when all he received was a pointed look, he barreled straight on.
"Your centerpiece there," he gestured with this lips while keeping his hands clasped behind his back, "I see there is no price tag. What exactly is the reasoning behind that?" He rocked back and forth on his heels animatedly, "A bidding war perhaps?" Spock offered him an annoyed look, eyebrows furrowing, and he seemed to take a while formulating his response before he continued.
"I have a few prints of that particular piece if you are interested in a purchase." he emphasized the last word slightly. "However, the original is not for sale." he paused, a light blush creeping up his collar, "I would prefer to keep that for my private collection." Spock turned quickly to the next question, attempting to hide the green of his cheeks and making sure to avoid eye contact with him. Jim felt his own embarrassment heat his ears as he swung his arms back and forth- his earlier pride being replaced with an odd sense of affection. Feeling awkward, and a little like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he turned to leave when he noticed someone standing at his exhibit. He frowned lightly at the stranger in the form-fitting red dress. Something about the way she carried herself was so familiar….. He cocked his head to the side his eyes widened as realization hit him like a ton of bricks.
Carefully, he turned on his heel and began the excruciating process of completely avoiding her. He felt like a fool, ducking around pillars and hiding behind people as they danced around each other in the studio, but panic gripped his insides like a vice and he felt as though he might be sick. People kept shooting him frosty glances and he could only offer a shrug and meek smile in return. He shot despondent looks at his abandoned post, the missed opportunities gnawing at him, but he didn't dare go back. When he finally caught an opening, he dashed across the floor to Spock's stand, which for the first time that night, was deserted. "Hey!" he walked up and grabbed Spock by his elbow, turning them so that their backs were to the open room. "You wanna run away with me?" he turned his head minutely to catch Spock's reaction, when he noticed the Vulcan's pupils blow wide, ears tinge green, and mouth pinch tight. It was then that he caught the alternate meaning of his words and hurriedly stumbled to correct himself. "Just for tonight I mean!" he wrung out his hands nervously, "I need to get out of here, but I don't wanna be alone." He added the last bit spontaneously, but found that he meant it.
Spock's stance became noticeably more relaxed and taking a cue from Jim, he kept his gaze forward and his voice soft. "I was operating under the assumption that this event was essential to those who wished to make a career of their talents."
Jim winced at the too true statement and kicked at the floor absentmindedly, "Ya, but I think I've already more or less ruined my chance at getting in any face time and I have business cards set up if they're interested." He sought out Spock's eyes and more or less forced eye contact, "You don't have to come with me, but I'd consider it a great kindness if you did." Jim turned his charm up as far as he could, smiling his brightest and hoping it would be enough to persuade this relative stranger into taking a night time drive with him. He wasn't sure why, but Spock's presence had already began to calm him, uncoiling the knot in his stomach,
Spock hesitated a moment, but just as Jim was beginning to doubt his approach he spoke. "I believe I shall take up your offer."
Spock sat quietly in the passenger sear of Jim's car, noting its obvious age, and admiring the fact that it ran as smoothly as it did. His stomach flopped as he stole a glance at Jim's stoic face and he doubted the logic of putting himself in an enclosed space, with someone who enamored him so, at a late hour of the night. Attempting to clear his mind he stared out the window at the silhouettes that wooshed by as they drove out of the city limits. Spock wasn't sure where they were headed and he hadn't wanted to disturb Jim's concentration by asking. As he pressed his nose against the window, he noticed his breath fogging the glass and for the first time tonight noted how very cold he was, his skin noticeably more green than usual. The dampness once again seemed to sink into his bones and frustrated with his recent inability to reign in the kind of control he once exercised he fought with his body, determined at the least not to have his teeth chatter. Jim finally seemed to have found the spot he was looking for, and pulling the car off the road. driving into a small clearing in the midst of overgrown trees and moss. Spock let out a small "Oh!" at the inherent beauty of the place- so expertly hidden from the road, it gave a reassuring sense of seclusion.
Jim turned to look at him for the first time since leaving and let out a quiet gasp. "Jesus Spock, you look like you're freezing to death!" he began rummaging through the small mess in the back seats as he muttered an impressive string of curse words Spock was certain that Jim thought he couldn't hear.
"Vulcan is considerably warmer than Earth, but I assure you that my inner body temperature is nowhere near a fatal level." Spock attempted to brush off the other man's concern even though he really would appreciate a warmer jacket. He had not dressed for an excursion such as this and was wishing that he had one of his mother's hand knit sweaters handy. When she had given them to him he had thought so little of the gesture, he had more than adequate clothing, why should he need more? Back then, the thought of sentimentality had been foolishly illogical, but now he just wished that he could tell her how much it really meant to him now.
Jim returned from the back seat with a rather large and fluffy blanket that he insisted on wrapping Spock up in as tight as he could manage. "I never thought I'd be using that blanket like this." he snorted with a curiously attractive waggle of his eyebrows. Quickly his expression turned serious again, "Why didn't you say anything? I would have pulled over sooner, or cranked the heat?" Spock merely offered him a shrug and Jim fell back into his seat with a sigh. "Y'know, every time I think that I have you pinned you go and surprise me." he laughed, running his hands through his hair in that familiar nervous gesture.
Spock nearly smiled at the idea of anyone being able to pin his strangely erratic actions down. Ignoring the current thread of conversation, Spock brought one of his hands out of the blanket-cocoon and gestured toward the glove compartment in front of him. "May I?"
Jim looked baffled for a moment, but then gave a shrug of his own, "Sure, knock yourself out." When Spock paused, clear confusion in his eyes, Jim just smiled widely, eyes twinkling, "It's an expression." Spock nodded minutely before continuing on, pulling at the latch and frowning when he began to dig through the old photos, crinkled paper, and assorted garbage that resided there.
"Is this not a glove compartment?" Spock asked, nearly sounding disturbed by his discovery. Jim shook his head amusedly for a few seconds before answering.
"That is one of the most notoriously inaccurate names in the history of ever." he stated simply. "No one actually keeps gloves there, mostly just the title and registration for their vehicle, and souvenirs from better times." he gave a sigh and rubbed his eyes before reclining his seat to stare at the stars through the sunroof. "Look, the whole reason I brought you out here was because I saw Nyota at the gallery." Looking through the photos he had found, Spock didn't need to ask who she was.
"Why did you wish not to see her? It seems as though at one time you made each other quite happy." Jim noticed the wistfulness in Spock's voice as he spoke, but didn't bother to address it.
"When I left Iowa, I just kind of bolted over night. I didn't tell anyone where I was going except my mother and didn't say any goodbyes." he paused for a moment, wondering why it was so easy to tell all of this to a man who was supposed to be cold and emotionless. Looking at Spock, neither of those things seemed to even vaguely describe him. "I just had to get out of there. I can't really explain why, but I felt like I was suffocating. Anyways, I'm just not ready to talk to any of them just yet."
Spock nodded slowly at these new bits of information and took a few minutes formulating his response. "I find that I don't require an explanation as to the purpose behind your actions. I too made a rather hasty decision to leave my home." he hesitated, wondering just how much he should reveal. "It was against my father's wishes and we have not spoken since. He does not understand why I am unable to make logical decisions concerning my future. He finds it frustrating when I allow my human half to overcome the Vulcan in me." Spock looked up from where he had been nervously twiddling with the frayed end of the blanket wrapped around him, only to be completely arrested when his eyes caught Jim's. Much like the first time they had met Spock found himself unable to look away, but this time the blue of Jim's irises was a more solemn color, holding understanding and companionship as opposed to the curiosity and passion from before.
Jim laid back in his seat and tried his best to ignore the affection that bloomed wildly in his chest after they broke eye contact. Those deep, brown eyes were so accepting and warm he couldn't help the flutter his heart gave at the thought of them. Jim worried his bottom lip and used the comfortable silence to try and think of different reasons behind these feelings. He had only known Spock for a few weeks, and he didn't even really know anything about him. But Jim felt as though had never known anyone this well before. He hadn't planned on things happening quite like this when he asked Spock to run away with him, but out here, in this strange limbo, he felt as though they really had run; run to a place of their own creating where no one could find them and the world only functioned as they wished it to.
He laughed dryly, thinking to himself that he sounded like a love sick teenager. Spock turned to him at the sound, a question in his eyes. Jim happily noted that he had returned to a much more normal shade and smiled- this one fairly small with no motive behind it- but he noted how Spock's eyes widened and his breathing hitched. They both laid on their sides just staring for minutes, maybe hours. Jim didn't think that he could admit it out loud any time soon, but in the confines of his mind he let himself think it, I'm falling in love. The thought was terrifying and thrilling all at once, but as with everything in his life, he decided to meet it head on. Moving forward slowly he leaned close and placed a soft kiss on the cold, green tip of Spock's nose. "Thank you for saving me tonight.
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Length: ~2600
Rating: PG-13
Warnings:Mild alcohol consumption, Eventual slash, Some profanity
Summary: AU, Spock moves to Earth to deal with a personal crisis and meets Jim, a charismatic photographer who has also recently left his home. Based off of the Death Cab for Cutie album.
A/N: Each chapter is based off of its respective track on the album- listening to the accompanying song is ideal, but not necessary. All comments/criticisms/suggestions are ALWAYS welcome!!!
Jim paused, hanging half out of his doorway, when he heard the comm ring just inside. He looked forlornly down the hall, but making a quick decision, turned to step back inside. He moved across the floor quickly if not gracefully and stopped at the comm on the kitchen counter. The screen displayed his mother's name and as he reached to accept the call with reflexive excitement he hesitated. She had been calling intermittently throughout the last two weeks, but he hadn't had the courage to answer just yet. The last time they had talked was some months back when he had called her outside of a crowded roadside diner. At first he hadn't wanted anyone to know where he had gone- just an old fashioned bolt in the night scenario- But having a missing person's filed wasn't exactly what he had been looking for either. Additionally, he couldn't deal with the guilt that roiled in his gut at the thought of his mother worrying herself sick at his disappearance, perhaps even thinking him dead. Now, he thought of how great it would be to hear her voice again, to tell her about his new job and the quiet Vulcan that he had so recently become enamored with. But he let his hand slip from the receiver, not quite ready to explain why he had left yet, especially not to her.
Jim rushed into the brightly lit gallery and hurried over to the small corner that had been assigned for his exhibit. He stopped in front of the black and white photos that had been artfully arranged on the wall and groaned. He had briefly forgotten the inherent memories that the prints on the wall were associated with and was unprepared for the swell of emotion that came with them. Weeks back they had all picked the pieces that they wished to put on show and with his usual amount of foresight and grace he had provided the layout before him. All of the photos had an 'antique composition' and displayed various landscapes framed by a car window, each location vastly different from the last. They were arranged so that they drew the eye to the center- the largest frame displaying a woman with smooth, dark skin and ebony hair flowing behind her in waves, laughing in the passenger seat. "She is quite beautiful is she not?" Jim jumped at the sound of the quiet, somber voice in his ear.
"Oh, hey Spock!" Jim fidgeted, straightening his clothes while taking in the solemn demeanor of the Vulcan beside him. "She um, ya she is." he pulled his fingers through his hair and smiled sheepishly. "We used date when I lived in Iowa." He thought that maybe he had seen Spock's eyes flash momentarily at the statement, but it passed so quickly that maybe the emotion had been merely imagined.
"I had deduced as much." Spock gave him a measured look and then turned to walk calmly back to his own space- a handful of onlookers beginning to gather around his charcoal and oil pastel drawings. Jim couldn't help the brief pout that pulled at his lips as he wondered how long he'd been staring at the photographs and how many customers he'd accidentally blown off. With only the slightest hesitation he followed Spock's graceful steps, but stayed back with the other observers as he listened to the soothing cadence of Spock's voice explaining whichever piece they might be interested in. A haughty smirk crawled its way across Jim's face as he noticed that Spock's centerpiece was the charcoal sketch of his torso, unchanged from the day he had first seen it- the day he had first seen Spock. With mock innocence he raised his hand to catch Spock's attention, and when all he received was a pointed look, he barreled straight on.
"Your centerpiece there," he gestured with this lips while keeping his hands clasped behind his back, "I see there is no price tag. What exactly is the reasoning behind that?" He rocked back and forth on his heels animatedly, "A bidding war perhaps?" Spock offered him an annoyed look, eyebrows furrowing, and he seemed to take a while formulating his response before he continued.
"I have a few prints of that particular piece if you are interested in a purchase." he emphasized the last word slightly. "However, the original is not for sale." he paused, a light blush creeping up his collar, "I would prefer to keep that for my private collection." Spock turned quickly to the next question, attempting to hide the green of his cheeks and making sure to avoid eye contact with him. Jim felt his own embarrassment heat his ears as he swung his arms back and forth- his earlier pride being replaced with an odd sense of affection. Feeling awkward, and a little like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he turned to leave when he noticed someone standing at his exhibit. He frowned lightly at the stranger in the form-fitting red dress. Something about the way she carried herself was so familiar….. He cocked his head to the side his eyes widened as realization hit him like a ton of bricks.
Carefully, he turned on his heel and began the excruciating process of completely avoiding her. He felt like a fool, ducking around pillars and hiding behind people as they danced around each other in the studio, but panic gripped his insides like a vice and he felt as though he might be sick. People kept shooting him frosty glances and he could only offer a shrug and meek smile in return. He shot despondent looks at his abandoned post, the missed opportunities gnawing at him, but he didn't dare go back. When he finally caught an opening, he dashed across the floor to Spock's stand, which for the first time that night, was deserted. "Hey!" he walked up and grabbed Spock by his elbow, turning them so that their backs were to the open room. "You wanna run away with me?" he turned his head minutely to catch Spock's reaction, when he noticed the Vulcan's pupils blow wide, ears tinge green, and mouth pinch tight. It was then that he caught the alternate meaning of his words and hurriedly stumbled to correct himself. "Just for tonight I mean!" he wrung out his hands nervously, "I need to get out of here, but I don't wanna be alone." He added the last bit spontaneously, but found that he meant it.
Spock's stance became noticeably more relaxed and taking a cue from Jim, he kept his gaze forward and his voice soft. "I was operating under the assumption that this event was essential to those who wished to make a career of their talents."
Jim winced at the too true statement and kicked at the floor absentmindedly, "Ya, but I think I've already more or less ruined my chance at getting in any face time and I have business cards set up if they're interested." He sought out Spock's eyes and more or less forced eye contact, "You don't have to come with me, but I'd consider it a great kindness if you did." Jim turned his charm up as far as he could, smiling his brightest and hoping it would be enough to persuade this relative stranger into taking a night time drive with him. He wasn't sure why, but Spock's presence had already began to calm him, uncoiling the knot in his stomach,
Spock hesitated a moment, but just as Jim was beginning to doubt his approach he spoke. "I believe I shall take up your offer."
Spock sat quietly in the passenger sear of Jim's car, noting its obvious age, and admiring the fact that it ran as smoothly as it did. His stomach flopped as he stole a glance at Jim's stoic face and he doubted the logic of putting himself in an enclosed space, with someone who enamored him so, at a late hour of the night. Attempting to clear his mind he stared out the window at the silhouettes that wooshed by as they drove out of the city limits. Spock wasn't sure where they were headed and he hadn't wanted to disturb Jim's concentration by asking. As he pressed his nose against the window, he noticed his breath fogging the glass and for the first time tonight noted how very cold he was, his skin noticeably more green than usual. The dampness once again seemed to sink into his bones and frustrated with his recent inability to reign in the kind of control he once exercised he fought with his body, determined at the least not to have his teeth chatter. Jim finally seemed to have found the spot he was looking for, and pulling the car off the road. driving into a small clearing in the midst of overgrown trees and moss. Spock let out a small "Oh!" at the inherent beauty of the place- so expertly hidden from the road, it gave a reassuring sense of seclusion.
Jim turned to look at him for the first time since leaving and let out a quiet gasp. "Jesus Spock, you look like you're freezing to death!" he began rummaging through the small mess in the back seats as he muttered an impressive string of curse words Spock was certain that Jim thought he couldn't hear.
"Vulcan is considerably warmer than Earth, but I assure you that my inner body temperature is nowhere near a fatal level." Spock attempted to brush off the other man's concern even though he really would appreciate a warmer jacket. He had not dressed for an excursion such as this and was wishing that he had one of his mother's hand knit sweaters handy. When she had given them to him he had thought so little of the gesture, he had more than adequate clothing, why should he need more? Back then, the thought of sentimentality had been foolishly illogical, but now he just wished that he could tell her how much it really meant to him now.
Jim returned from the back seat with a rather large and fluffy blanket that he insisted on wrapping Spock up in as tight as he could manage. "I never thought I'd be using that blanket like this." he snorted with a curiously attractive waggle of his eyebrows. Quickly his expression turned serious again, "Why didn't you say anything? I would have pulled over sooner, or cranked the heat?" Spock merely offered him a shrug and Jim fell back into his seat with a sigh. "Y'know, every time I think that I have you pinned you go and surprise me." he laughed, running his hands through his hair in that familiar nervous gesture.
Spock nearly smiled at the idea of anyone being able to pin his strangely erratic actions down. Ignoring the current thread of conversation, Spock brought one of his hands out of the blanket-cocoon and gestured toward the glove compartment in front of him. "May I?"
Jim looked baffled for a moment, but then gave a shrug of his own, "Sure, knock yourself out." When Spock paused, clear confusion in his eyes, Jim just smiled widely, eyes twinkling, "It's an expression." Spock nodded minutely before continuing on, pulling at the latch and frowning when he began to dig through the old photos, crinkled paper, and assorted garbage that resided there.
"Is this not a glove compartment?" Spock asked, nearly sounding disturbed by his discovery. Jim shook his head amusedly for a few seconds before answering.
"That is one of the most notoriously inaccurate names in the history of ever." he stated simply. "No one actually keeps gloves there, mostly just the title and registration for their vehicle, and souvenirs from better times." he gave a sigh and rubbed his eyes before reclining his seat to stare at the stars through the sunroof. "Look, the whole reason I brought you out here was because I saw Nyota at the gallery." Looking through the photos he had found, Spock didn't need to ask who she was.
"Why did you wish not to see her? It seems as though at one time you made each other quite happy." Jim noticed the wistfulness in Spock's voice as he spoke, but didn't bother to address it.
"When I left Iowa, I just kind of bolted over night. I didn't tell anyone where I was going except my mother and didn't say any goodbyes." he paused for a moment, wondering why it was so easy to tell all of this to a man who was supposed to be cold and emotionless. Looking at Spock, neither of those things seemed to even vaguely describe him. "I just had to get out of there. I can't really explain why, but I felt like I was suffocating. Anyways, I'm just not ready to talk to any of them just yet."
Spock nodded slowly at these new bits of information and took a few minutes formulating his response. "I find that I don't require an explanation as to the purpose behind your actions. I too made a rather hasty decision to leave my home." he hesitated, wondering just how much he should reveal. "It was against my father's wishes and we have not spoken since. He does not understand why I am unable to make logical decisions concerning my future. He finds it frustrating when I allow my human half to overcome the Vulcan in me." Spock looked up from where he had been nervously twiddling with the frayed end of the blanket wrapped around him, only to be completely arrested when his eyes caught Jim's. Much like the first time they had met Spock found himself unable to look away, but this time the blue of Jim's irises was a more solemn color, holding understanding and companionship as opposed to the curiosity and passion from before.
Jim laid back in his seat and tried his best to ignore the affection that bloomed wildly in his chest after they broke eye contact. Those deep, brown eyes were so accepting and warm he couldn't help the flutter his heart gave at the thought of them. Jim worried his bottom lip and used the comfortable silence to try and think of different reasons behind these feelings. He had only known Spock for a few weeks, and he didn't even really know anything about him. But Jim felt as though had never known anyone this well before. He hadn't planned on things happening quite like this when he asked Spock to run away with him, but out here, in this strange limbo, he felt as though they really had run; run to a place of their own creating where no one could find them and the world only functioned as they wished it to.
He laughed dryly, thinking to himself that he sounded like a love sick teenager. Spock turned to him at the sound, a question in his eyes. Jim happily noted that he had returned to a much more normal shade and smiled- this one fairly small with no motive behind it- but he noted how Spock's eyes widened and his breathing hitched. They both laid on their sides just staring for minutes, maybe hours. Jim didn't think that he could admit it out loud any time soon, but in the confines of his mind he let himself think it, I'm falling in love. The thought was terrifying and thrilling all at once, but as with everything in his life, he decided to meet it head on. Moving forward slowly he leaned close and placed a soft kiss on the cold, green tip of Spock's nose. "Thank you for saving me tonight.
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