FIC: We'll Walk In Ecstasy [1/7]
Title: We'll Walk In Ecstasy
Fandom: Star Trek (XI)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Total word count: 25,049 (this part: 3,958)
Summary: An alien anomaly changes Jim in a way no one could have predicted. His relationship with Spock is ultimately put to the test. Vulcan!Kirk. Kirk/Spock. Plot reverse of "The Chase."
Warnings: Swearing, some OOC-ness, graphic/explicit sex.
Notes: While I was originally writing “The Chase,” kamiyo commented on it and mentioned offhandedly that she would have loved to read a story of the same kind of plot, but with the roles reversed - with Kirk chasing Spock. I talked back and forth with her more about this idea, and the more she gave shape to her idea the more I found I wanted to actually write it. And so, after quite a few months, I finally have.
This one’s definitely more serious than “The Chase,” though. There may be some humorous moments from time to time, but overall this is a more dramatic story. Also, I this thing kept getting away from me constantly: at times it felt like it was dragging, while other points seemed too rushed. (Not to mention this is the longest single fic I’ve ever written thus far in my writing history.) Overall, however, I feel I’ve done all I can with this and have decided that I am happy with what I’ve completed. So despite my personal misgivings, please enjoy. :D
Thank you!
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"Have enough courage to trust love one more time. And always one more time." -Maya Angelou (b. 1928)
---------------
His shift had barely started before Jim burst into his sickbay, and that’s the moment that Leonard McCoy decided that, fuck it, he was not a morning person.
He had to look twice, because he was sure as hell that Jim didn’t really have a pair of pointy ears sticking out from the sides of his head or that his normally thick, curving eyebrows weren’t actually slanted upwards onto his forehead. Except that he did, and they were, and dammit, McCoy was seriously going to entertain the thought of transferring because of it all. Jim looked significantly freaked out, and McCoy had him up on a biobed and a scanner running over his body before the kid could even say anything.
McCoy took three separate readings because he was sure his findings were wrong. They had to be. Just to be sure he used a different scanner, but it did no good - the readings were the same.
He sighed heavily through his nose. It was way too early for this kind of shit.
Jim’s eyes were burning holes in his, waiting for some kind of answer. McCoy could only shrug. “Well, you’re not dying.”
The captain exhaled and rolled his eyes dramatically, a rather odd-looking gesture given the new physical features he now possessed. “That’s not helpful, Bones!” Jim whined, trying to keep calm but failing rather miserably. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
“I dunno, Jim, you tell me,” McCoy answered. “Yesterday you were a perfectly fine and healthy human starship captain, wrapping up negotiations with the native government down on Dramiir, and now this morning you come running into my sickbay looking the way you do, and all of my equipment is telling me that as far as I should be concerned, you’re nothing but a perfectly fine and healthy Vulcan.” He took just a little pride in the way that Jim suddenly hunched like a child caught pilfering candy. “There anything you want to tell me?”
“I don’t know, Bones,” Jim shot back, his shockingly blue eyes blazing slightly. His new Vulcan features made him look a little more fierce than usual, and McCoy realized that whatever it was that had happened, Jim was obviously more affected by it than could visibly be seen. Jim averted his eyes towards the floor and took a couple deep breaths, as if trying to calm down. He eventually looked up at McCoy again. “I don’t. I really don’t. You know I’d tell you if I did, but I really… I don’t…”
McCoy sighed, realizing that there’s no way this couldn’t be overwhelming for Jim. He himself was probably just making it worse. “Okay, Jim, calm down,” he said, stepping closer and placing his hands on his friend’s shoulders, one of his thumbs just brushing the skin of Jim’s neck. Jim suddenly gasped, jerking lightly away from the doctor’s touch. McCoy stepped back, unsure of just what had brought the instance on.
Jim looked stunned for a moment before his expression shifted to one of awe. When he looked back up to McCoy, he looked faintly embarrassed. “Guess it’s not just physical appearance, huh?”
It took a few seconds for Jim’s words to sink in. McCoy’s eyes widened. “You mean… you could feel,” he gestures vaguely around his temples, “you know.”
“Yeah, for an instant.” Jim slowly smiled, a hint of his usual cockiness showing through. “It’s nice to know you care so much, Doctor.”
McCoy rolled his eyes before grabbing a chair from by the wall and dragging it over, planting himself down in front of Jim.
“We’re gonna figure this out, alright?” he said with soft firmness, watching as Jim sobered back down. “Now think, Jim. You were down on Dramiir almost all day yesterday for the final treaty signings and all the rest of the celebrations. Do you remember anything that happened that may have caused this? Anything strange or out of place or significant? Anything at all?”
Jim was slowly shaking his head. “No, Bones, everything was really routine. We all stayed together during the signing and the feast, and nothing occurred that we hadn’t already been briefed on before we beamed down for the first time. Well, of course, except for…” Jim suddenly cut off, his slanted brows furrowing in slow realization.
He had McCoy’s attention. “Except for what, Jim?”
When the captain looked at him, McCoy just knew that this was something he’d probably be yelling at Jim for later.
“Er…” was the start of Jim’s admission. “There was one thing that happened…”
McCoy sat back and listened.
---------------
“Your mind is occupied.”
Jim looked up from the glass in his hand. The empress smiled patiently.
He supposed it was the environment that had initially allowed his mind to wander. The Enterprise’s mission to the planet of Dramiir had been literally flawless, and the sheer pleasant nature of both the planet and its people was reason enough for the crew to relax. In the ensuing celebrations following the successful peace talks and treaty signings, the landing party was sticking relatively close together, as ordered, but even now each member had found themselves caught up in their own individual conversations throughout the feasting hall. And while they stuck to remaining within eyesight of each other, the entire present crew (Spock included, it seemed) was at peace and no longer possessed the initial sense of apprehension that was present during their very first visit those few days ago. The Dramiiri were a truly peaceful people, as it turned out - it was a wonder why the Federation had not contacted them before.
Coming back to the present, Jim responded sheepishly. “Is it that obvious?”
The empress’ crystal eyes glittered with mirth. “We are not a telepathic race, Captain Kirk, but your emotions are clear upon your face.”
“I’m sorry,” Jim said, turning slightly to lean more against the stone rail of the balcony they were standing on. “Please, don’t mind it; it’s nothing to concern yourself with.”
The Dramiiri didn’t look convinced, although her expression had not lost any of its serenity. “We have spent many days engaging in both negotiations and simple talks, and are now bonded by a very generous treaty between your Federation and my planet. I have learned much from you and your people, Captain Kirk, just as you have from me and mine. I would say we have become friends. Do you agree?”
Jim smiled. “I suppose that’s true.”
The empress stepped closer, placing a silvery hand close to Jim’s on the railing. “If you wish it, I would hear your troubles.”
The captain averted his eyes briefly, glancing nonchalantly over the space of the feasting hall. Over the shoulder of a Dramiiri diplomat he could see Spock engaged in conversation. As if prompted, the half-Vulcan’s gaze lifted slightly to meet Jim’s, softening briefly in recognition before returning to the person he was speaking to. The instance was short, no longer than mere seconds.
“It’s… a personal matter.”
“Does it concern your Vulcan mate?”
When Jim’s eyes shot up to meet hers, a slightly stumped expression on his face, the empress smiled almost shyly. “We Dramiiri are a learned raced, Captain, and Vulcans are not unknown to us. Your commander seems close to you in a manner his kind is not known for displaying. I had naturally assumed…” At Jim’s continued speechlessness, her smile dimmed a little and she suddenly appeared unsure of herself. “Am I mistaken?”
Jim gave his brain a mental shake and finally answered. “No, no, you’re right,” he said as casually as he could muster, wondering exactly how the conversation had shifted from politics and simple weather to the relationship between him and Spock. “We’ve been bonded for months now. But we also, ah… haven’t really consummated it yet. In either fashion.” The empress giggled, a delicate, lighthearted titter. Jim realized that he probably didn’t need to reveal that much depth about his and Spock’s relationship, but there was something about the Dramiiri ruler that kept him at ease. She seemed genuinely interested, and while he’d interacted with her primarily on a formal basis up until now, he was seriously beginning to see the person behind the figurehead. The empress was surely powerful, but she was still a mind and body with feelings and a personality - a person Jim had gotten to know, like, and trust.
Her gently curious gaze prompted him to continue. “The bond I have with Spock is on a purely emotional level right now. We can’t read each others’ thoughts independently - not without melding - but we can feel each others’ emotions, even at a distance.” Jim smiled fondly at the thought, even now experiencing the light push of Spock’s general calmness at the edge of his mind. “So while we can tell what the other’s feeling, we can’t tell what he’s thinking about. Does that make any sense?”
The empress only smiled brighter.
“Anyway, that’s… actually what I’m brooding about right now,” Jim continued, ducking his head with a growing sense of shyness. “Lately I’ve been thinking more and more about the bond, and… I’ve been realizing that although I understand what Spock feels - that he feels - I really don’t know anything about what he thinks. About us, I mean - the bond. And it’s silly because… I know he loves me. I’ve felt it. But I guess I’m just… curious, I suppose. We’re going slow, and I respect that, but… it’d be nice to know what our relationship is like for him, what the bond is like from his view.” He really couldn’t help the way he felt. He and Spock were currently closer to each other than Jim had ever thought possible, and with each touch of Spock’s mind and body Jim found himself more and more curious as to what went on in the half-Vulcan’s head when they were apart. Jim had learned all about Vulcans and their deeply-running emotions early on, and while their relationship was still in the early stages he already knew he wanted to feel more of Spock.
Maybe he was in over his head when it came to all the details. But when it came down to it, he still had Spock, and even if he didn’t ever get to fully understand what really went on beneath the veils of the other’s mind, Jim was sure he didn’t need to worry in the end. He decided to write it off as a passing fancy.
A very frequently reoccurring passing fancy.
Jim abruptly pulled himself out of his thoughts, remembering just where he was. He cleared his throat politely.
“My apologies, Empress,” he said, flushing lightly. “That was probably more information than you’d care to-”
“Vulcan love,” the empress murmured unexpectedly. “You wish to experience Vulcan love. No doubt at its purest point…” She almost seemed to be talking to herself rather than Jim.
The captain cocked an eyebrow and shrugged minutely. “I suppose that’s one way to put it.” He turned and regarded the scenery beyond the balcony. “In any case, my apology still stands, Empress. That probably wasn’t the best topic to delve into, given today’s events.” Jim’s smile returned when the Dramiiri seemed to refocus and turns her glittering eyes back to him.
“It’s quite alright, Captain,” she assured. “As I recall, I had initially prompted you to speak. I am honored you chose to share your thoughts with me.”
Jim nodded. “Of course.”
The brief silence that followed lacked a sense of awkwardness.
“James,” the empress said, perking slightly. Jim absently noted the use of his first name rather than his rank. “Would you follow me? There is something I would show you.”
Jim took a fleeting glance at the nearby feasting hall, hesitating. The empress grasps his wrist gently. “Please? It is not far.” The air of nobility left her for a moment, her soft pleading not unlike that of a child or a younger sibling. Jim found himself unable and unwilling to resist.
With one last check to Spock’s mental presence, the captain nodded. “Alright, lead the way.”
---------------
“Wait a minute. You went alone?”
Jim flinched only slightly at McCoy’s tone. “What? It really wasn’t very far from the palace. I could still hear the party from the feasting hall and everything.”
The doctor rolled his eyes. “And what about staying together and following routine and whatnot? Honestly, I don’t understand how you can still be alive. Can you believe this guy?” He turned to Uhura, who had previously wandered in during the first part of Jim’s recollection. She was still openly staring at Jim, only vaguely acknowledging McCoy’s words, her original purpose for visiting sickbay obviously forgotten. Jim didn’t blame her for gaping - hell, he would have too if he were her. But he was really not in the mood for it.
He cleared his throat and kept going.
---------------
True to the empress’ word, their journey wasn’t long. A minute’s walk from the base of the palace, they soon reached a small forested area, an alcove lined with swooping purple trees and softly glowing flora. As they neared the apparent entrance, the empress reached back and took hold of Jim’s wrist. The captain was about to speak up in question when he felt a light, tingling pressure around his body as he passed the threshold. He’d been to enough planets to know what it was.
“A force field?”
“A barrier,” the empress confirmed, removing her hand from Jim. “Only those of royal blood may pass through to this site,” she turned to look at him, “and only persons who those of royal blood permit.”
The clearing in front of the pair was scarce save a small monument in the middle with an elegant silver bowl perched on top of it. Near the edge of the area lay a deep pool of water, a clear stream flowing into it from a rocky brook.
“In ancient times, this site was used as a place of peace,” the empress began, crossing the space of the clearing to stand by the monument. “Treaties and friendships were formed here between ourselves and the many we have had the privilege of meeting, both on and off this planet. After all had been done, it was proper custom for our visitors to partake of this spring.” She picked the bowl up off of the monument, gracefully crossing over to the pool of water. “You and your crew are the first visitors Dramiir has had in many generations.” The bowl was dipped into the pool, scooping up a generous portion of water. The empress straightened, turning and stopping in front of Jim and holding out the bowl. “I would be honored if you would allow me to renew this custom.”
Jim paused in thought. The pre-mission briefing had mentioned nothing about a ceremonial drinking of water from a spring of any kind. Then again, the empress had just stated the practice was ancient, which, if true, explained why it would not have been mentioned in the briefing presentation. The empress’ request seemed genuine and he didn’t see any harm in it, but he cautioned himself anyway.
“I appreciate your offer, Empress,” Jim said, a smile on his lips, “and I mean no disrespect, but I was not briefed on this… ritual of yours beforehand.”
The empress’ smile seemed sad. “You are understandably cautious. But you must know, this is not a trick. You may check our royal library if you wish - there are many documents that verify this practice; you would be more than welcome to view them if you so desired. …I would not lie to you, James Kirk.”
Jim averted his eyes, pondering over the empress’ words. Being a starship captain, it was only natural for him to be guarded against any potential threats or suspicions. That being said, the empress had only ever offered him kindness, friendship, and understanding ever since their first meeting - and apparently continued to do so. She’d presented to him an explanation, a way to put proof behind her request - Jim couldn’t find any fault in it.
The Dramiiri ruler remained genuine and straightforwardly honest.
Jim trusted her.
“I would be honored to take part in your custom,” he finally said, a warm smile working its way onto his face. The empress’ face broke out into a cheerful grin, an expression completely divergent from her usual formal presentation.
“Thank you, Captain,” she responded, stepping closer to Jim. “You have honored me with your choice… and your trust.” Without another word the empress lifted the bowl in a toasting gesture and brought it to her lips, drinking a small portion of the water inside. When she was finished she extended the bowl to Jim, who took it and lifted it in a similar gesture before taking a drink from the opposite side.
Nothing happened.
As the empress took the bowl back to its resting place, Jim pondered over the possible meanings of the ritual he’d just participated in. He felt no changes in his body, so he figured it must be an act of symbolism. Two different parties joining together through the act of consuming from a shared source, perhaps?
“It is done.” The Dramiiri was in front of Jim again. She bowed. “I thank thee for thy bond in trust.” Jim found he could only bow in return.
“Empress, if you would allow me, I believe I’ll return to the feasting hall.” Almost on impulse, he offered her his arm. She took it, smiling.
“Of course, Captain.” And although they left the area and walked back together, her final words before they reached the palace almost sounded like a parting statement:
“May your ultimate path lead you to the greatest happiness.”
---------------
“So let me get this straight.” McCoy looked livid. “You went off by yourself without any kind of supervision whatsoever, willingly ingested a substance whose origins you knew nothing about, and didn’t even think to mention this to anyone, let alone me, the minute you got back to the ship?”
“…Yes?”
The doctor shook his head and ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. Across the room, Uhura seemed to be expressing a similar sentiment. McCoy had to take a minute to compose himself before speaking again. “Well, you’re lucky it didn’t kill you and instead just turned you into…” he gestured searchingly, “this.”
Jim could only agree.
“So… What do we do now?”
“Medically? I can’t do a damn thing.” McCoy took his previously discarded PADD up off a nearby counter and scowled at it. “As far as my biological readings go, you’re one hundred percent Vulcan. The only human thing left about you is your personality. There’s nothing on you, chemical or otherwise, that can tell me what it is that did this to you, so presently there isn’t anything I can do for you.”
Jim nodded, taking the information in slowly and carefully. “We’ll have to send an away team to investigate that water source.” Human body or Vulcan, he was still the captain. He turned his eyes to the communications officer near the edge of the room. “Uhura, will you take care of that?”
She straightened slightly. “Yes, sir.”
Jim nodded. “Good. Try to speak with the empress if you can. You shouldn’t have too much trouble getting an audience with her now that the treaties have been signed. Take science officers Halliday and Jodi with you; their environmental and geological knowledge will help you best when investigating that water source.” He paused briefly in thought, contemplating his next decision. Jim offered a slight smile to Uhura. “And take along some security officers, just in case.”
Uhura smiled lightly in return. “Aye, sir.” She left without another word.
As if on cue, the comm unit whistled.
“Bridge to sickbay.”
Jim’s head lifted at the sound of Spock’s voice. McCoy raised an eyebrow at the almost apprehensive look on the captain’s face before crossing the distances and tapping the button to accept the call.
“Sickbay. McCoy here.”
“Doctor McCoy, do you know the whereabouts of the captain? He is not located in his quarters and has not reported to the bridge.”
McCoy cast a glance at Jim. “He’s down here in sickbay, Spock.”
“Is he injured?”
“No, no, he’s fine. It’s… nothing we can do anything about at this point, so there’s nothing to really concern yourself with, but…” He leaned his forehead against the wall and willed himself to not sigh. “I suppose when you have the time, you might want to come down and take a look for yourself.”
“Understood. I will be down shortly. Spock out.”
McCoy stepped away from the wall and moseyed back over to where Jim is sitting. Jim didn’t say anything, instead keeping still and looking like he’s contemplating something serious. The doctor waited a short moment longer before lightly clearing his throat.
“…I take it Spock doesn’t know?”
“We stayed in our separate quarters last night,” Jim answered, eyes still focused on a random section of the wall. “After we beamed back up from Dramiir I went straight to bed; Spock wanted to work late.”
“So… What do you think?”
“I don’t know how he’s going to react.”
McCoy took a seat next to Jim on the biobed, unable to hold back a small snort. “My guess would be ‘logically.’”
“It’s not funny, Bones,” Jim started to retort, but already he found he’d starting to laugh along with McCoy. It was an odd sight, the one of a distinctly Vulcan face caught in the expression of growing mirth, but it only served to make McCoy laugh harder.
“Sorry, Jim, but look at you! One of the most emotional bastards on the ship, and you get turned into a goddamn Vulcan.”
And it was kind of funny. It was practically ridiculous. Granted, this was the first time anything like this has ever happened before, and Bones was right - it wasn’t like he was dying. The idea of being able to shrug the situation off with humor was a welcome one; hell, Jim figureed that he and the rest of the crew could probably have a nice laugh about the whole thing once he got turned back into a human.
If he got turned back.
It hit him that there really wasn’t any guarantee that his body would be returned to its human form. His crew may have been the best and brightest of Starfleet, but even they couldn’t pull miracle cures out of the air. If Uhura and the away team were unsuccessful at getting an answer from the Dramiiri empress, Jim would have to resign himself to being a Vulcan for the rest of his life.
It wasn’t the worst thing that could possibly happen to him, but he wasn’t exactly jumping for joy at the prospect of it.
McCoy sobered next to him, taking in the sense of somberness in his friend. He settled a hand on Jim’s shoulder, careful not to touch any skin.
“Hey,” he offered, leaning over slightly in an attempt to make eye contact. “We’ll get through this, alright? For better or for worse,” he gently shook the captain’s shoulder, “we’ll get through this.”
Jim looked up, his blue eyes just a tad brighter. “Thanks, Bones.”
The gentle pressure near the edge of his mind suddenly increased. Spock was near.
Jim glanced to the door just as it opened. McCoy stood. Spock walked in, slowing significantly at the sight before him. His brown eyes widened ever so marginally, tracing over Jim’s obvious new features with a practiced sense of detailed observation. Otherwise, the half-Vulcan’s face revealed no visual reaction.
After a short, seemingly tense moment, the human-turned-Vulcan breathed a short laugh that no doubt doubled as a nervous sigh, helplessly gesturing to himself and shrugging. “…Yeah.”
Spock raised an eyebrow.
“Indeed.”
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Part 2
Fandom: Star Trek (XI)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Total word count: 25,049 (this part: 3,958)
Summary: An alien anomaly changes Jim in a way no one could have predicted. His relationship with Spock is ultimately put to the test. Vulcan!Kirk. Kirk/Spock. Plot reverse of "The Chase."
Warnings: Swearing, some OOC-ness, graphic/explicit sex.
Notes: While I was originally writing “The Chase,” kamiyo commented on it and mentioned offhandedly that she would have loved to read a story of the same kind of plot, but with the roles reversed - with Kirk chasing Spock. I talked back and forth with her more about this idea, and the more she gave shape to her idea the more I found I wanted to actually write it. And so, after quite a few months, I finally have.
This one’s definitely more serious than “The Chase,” though. There may be some humorous moments from time to time, but overall this is a more dramatic story. Also, I this thing kept getting away from me constantly: at times it felt like it was dragging, while other points seemed too rushed. (Not to mention this is the longest single fic I’ve ever written thus far in my writing history.) Overall, however, I feel I’ve done all I can with this and have decided that I am happy with what I’ve completed. So despite my personal misgivings, please enjoy. :D
Thank you!
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"Have enough courage to trust love one more time. And always one more time." -Maya Angelou (b. 1928)
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His shift had barely started before Jim burst into his sickbay, and that’s the moment that Leonard McCoy decided that, fuck it, he was not a morning person.
He had to look twice, because he was sure as hell that Jim didn’t really have a pair of pointy ears sticking out from the sides of his head or that his normally thick, curving eyebrows weren’t actually slanted upwards onto his forehead. Except that he did, and they were, and dammit, McCoy was seriously going to entertain the thought of transferring because of it all. Jim looked significantly freaked out, and McCoy had him up on a biobed and a scanner running over his body before the kid could even say anything.
McCoy took three separate readings because he was sure his findings were wrong. They had to be. Just to be sure he used a different scanner, but it did no good - the readings were the same.
He sighed heavily through his nose. It was way too early for this kind of shit.
Jim’s eyes were burning holes in his, waiting for some kind of answer. McCoy could only shrug. “Well, you’re not dying.”
The captain exhaled and rolled his eyes dramatically, a rather odd-looking gesture given the new physical features he now possessed. “That’s not helpful, Bones!” Jim whined, trying to keep calm but failing rather miserably. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
“I dunno, Jim, you tell me,” McCoy answered. “Yesterday you were a perfectly fine and healthy human starship captain, wrapping up negotiations with the native government down on Dramiir, and now this morning you come running into my sickbay looking the way you do, and all of my equipment is telling me that as far as I should be concerned, you’re nothing but a perfectly fine and healthy Vulcan.” He took just a little pride in the way that Jim suddenly hunched like a child caught pilfering candy. “There anything you want to tell me?”
“I don’t know, Bones,” Jim shot back, his shockingly blue eyes blazing slightly. His new Vulcan features made him look a little more fierce than usual, and McCoy realized that whatever it was that had happened, Jim was obviously more affected by it than could visibly be seen. Jim averted his eyes towards the floor and took a couple deep breaths, as if trying to calm down. He eventually looked up at McCoy again. “I don’t. I really don’t. You know I’d tell you if I did, but I really… I don’t…”
McCoy sighed, realizing that there’s no way this couldn’t be overwhelming for Jim. He himself was probably just making it worse. “Okay, Jim, calm down,” he said, stepping closer and placing his hands on his friend’s shoulders, one of his thumbs just brushing the skin of Jim’s neck. Jim suddenly gasped, jerking lightly away from the doctor’s touch. McCoy stepped back, unsure of just what had brought the instance on.
Jim looked stunned for a moment before his expression shifted to one of awe. When he looked back up to McCoy, he looked faintly embarrassed. “Guess it’s not just physical appearance, huh?”
It took a few seconds for Jim’s words to sink in. McCoy’s eyes widened. “You mean… you could feel,” he gestures vaguely around his temples, “you know.”
“Yeah, for an instant.” Jim slowly smiled, a hint of his usual cockiness showing through. “It’s nice to know you care so much, Doctor.”
McCoy rolled his eyes before grabbing a chair from by the wall and dragging it over, planting himself down in front of Jim.
“We’re gonna figure this out, alright?” he said with soft firmness, watching as Jim sobered back down. “Now think, Jim. You were down on Dramiir almost all day yesterday for the final treaty signings and all the rest of the celebrations. Do you remember anything that happened that may have caused this? Anything strange or out of place or significant? Anything at all?”
Jim was slowly shaking his head. “No, Bones, everything was really routine. We all stayed together during the signing and the feast, and nothing occurred that we hadn’t already been briefed on before we beamed down for the first time. Well, of course, except for…” Jim suddenly cut off, his slanted brows furrowing in slow realization.
He had McCoy’s attention. “Except for what, Jim?”
When the captain looked at him, McCoy just knew that this was something he’d probably be yelling at Jim for later.
“Er…” was the start of Jim’s admission. “There was one thing that happened…”
McCoy sat back and listened.
---------------
“Your mind is occupied.”
Jim looked up from the glass in his hand. The empress smiled patiently.
He supposed it was the environment that had initially allowed his mind to wander. The Enterprise’s mission to the planet of Dramiir had been literally flawless, and the sheer pleasant nature of both the planet and its people was reason enough for the crew to relax. In the ensuing celebrations following the successful peace talks and treaty signings, the landing party was sticking relatively close together, as ordered, but even now each member had found themselves caught up in their own individual conversations throughout the feasting hall. And while they stuck to remaining within eyesight of each other, the entire present crew (Spock included, it seemed) was at peace and no longer possessed the initial sense of apprehension that was present during their very first visit those few days ago. The Dramiiri were a truly peaceful people, as it turned out - it was a wonder why the Federation had not contacted them before.
Coming back to the present, Jim responded sheepishly. “Is it that obvious?”
The empress’ crystal eyes glittered with mirth. “We are not a telepathic race, Captain Kirk, but your emotions are clear upon your face.”
“I’m sorry,” Jim said, turning slightly to lean more against the stone rail of the balcony they were standing on. “Please, don’t mind it; it’s nothing to concern yourself with.”
The Dramiiri didn’t look convinced, although her expression had not lost any of its serenity. “We have spent many days engaging in both negotiations and simple talks, and are now bonded by a very generous treaty between your Federation and my planet. I have learned much from you and your people, Captain Kirk, just as you have from me and mine. I would say we have become friends. Do you agree?”
Jim smiled. “I suppose that’s true.”
The empress stepped closer, placing a silvery hand close to Jim’s on the railing. “If you wish it, I would hear your troubles.”
The captain averted his eyes briefly, glancing nonchalantly over the space of the feasting hall. Over the shoulder of a Dramiiri diplomat he could see Spock engaged in conversation. As if prompted, the half-Vulcan’s gaze lifted slightly to meet Jim’s, softening briefly in recognition before returning to the person he was speaking to. The instance was short, no longer than mere seconds.
“It’s… a personal matter.”
“Does it concern your Vulcan mate?”
When Jim’s eyes shot up to meet hers, a slightly stumped expression on his face, the empress smiled almost shyly. “We Dramiiri are a learned raced, Captain, and Vulcans are not unknown to us. Your commander seems close to you in a manner his kind is not known for displaying. I had naturally assumed…” At Jim’s continued speechlessness, her smile dimmed a little and she suddenly appeared unsure of herself. “Am I mistaken?”
Jim gave his brain a mental shake and finally answered. “No, no, you’re right,” he said as casually as he could muster, wondering exactly how the conversation had shifted from politics and simple weather to the relationship between him and Spock. “We’ve been bonded for months now. But we also, ah… haven’t really consummated it yet. In either fashion.” The empress giggled, a delicate, lighthearted titter. Jim realized that he probably didn’t need to reveal that much depth about his and Spock’s relationship, but there was something about the Dramiiri ruler that kept him at ease. She seemed genuinely interested, and while he’d interacted with her primarily on a formal basis up until now, he was seriously beginning to see the person behind the figurehead. The empress was surely powerful, but she was still a mind and body with feelings and a personality - a person Jim had gotten to know, like, and trust.
Her gently curious gaze prompted him to continue. “The bond I have with Spock is on a purely emotional level right now. We can’t read each others’ thoughts independently - not without melding - but we can feel each others’ emotions, even at a distance.” Jim smiled fondly at the thought, even now experiencing the light push of Spock’s general calmness at the edge of his mind. “So while we can tell what the other’s feeling, we can’t tell what he’s thinking about. Does that make any sense?”
The empress only smiled brighter.
“Anyway, that’s… actually what I’m brooding about right now,” Jim continued, ducking his head with a growing sense of shyness. “Lately I’ve been thinking more and more about the bond, and… I’ve been realizing that although I understand what Spock feels - that he feels - I really don’t know anything about what he thinks. About us, I mean - the bond. And it’s silly because… I know he loves me. I’ve felt it. But I guess I’m just… curious, I suppose. We’re going slow, and I respect that, but… it’d be nice to know what our relationship is like for him, what the bond is like from his view.” He really couldn’t help the way he felt. He and Spock were currently closer to each other than Jim had ever thought possible, and with each touch of Spock’s mind and body Jim found himself more and more curious as to what went on in the half-Vulcan’s head when they were apart. Jim had learned all about Vulcans and their deeply-running emotions early on, and while their relationship was still in the early stages he already knew he wanted to feel more of Spock.
Maybe he was in over his head when it came to all the details. But when it came down to it, he still had Spock, and even if he didn’t ever get to fully understand what really went on beneath the veils of the other’s mind, Jim was sure he didn’t need to worry in the end. He decided to write it off as a passing fancy.
A very frequently reoccurring passing fancy.
Jim abruptly pulled himself out of his thoughts, remembering just where he was. He cleared his throat politely.
“My apologies, Empress,” he said, flushing lightly. “That was probably more information than you’d care to-”
“Vulcan love,” the empress murmured unexpectedly. “You wish to experience Vulcan love. No doubt at its purest point…” She almost seemed to be talking to herself rather than Jim.
The captain cocked an eyebrow and shrugged minutely. “I suppose that’s one way to put it.” He turned and regarded the scenery beyond the balcony. “In any case, my apology still stands, Empress. That probably wasn’t the best topic to delve into, given today’s events.” Jim’s smile returned when the Dramiiri seemed to refocus and turns her glittering eyes back to him.
“It’s quite alright, Captain,” she assured. “As I recall, I had initially prompted you to speak. I am honored you chose to share your thoughts with me.”
Jim nodded. “Of course.”
The brief silence that followed lacked a sense of awkwardness.
“James,” the empress said, perking slightly. Jim absently noted the use of his first name rather than his rank. “Would you follow me? There is something I would show you.”
Jim took a fleeting glance at the nearby feasting hall, hesitating. The empress grasps his wrist gently. “Please? It is not far.” The air of nobility left her for a moment, her soft pleading not unlike that of a child or a younger sibling. Jim found himself unable and unwilling to resist.
With one last check to Spock’s mental presence, the captain nodded. “Alright, lead the way.”
---------------
“Wait a minute. You went alone?”
Jim flinched only slightly at McCoy’s tone. “What? It really wasn’t very far from the palace. I could still hear the party from the feasting hall and everything.”
The doctor rolled his eyes. “And what about staying together and following routine and whatnot? Honestly, I don’t understand how you can still be alive. Can you believe this guy?” He turned to Uhura, who had previously wandered in during the first part of Jim’s recollection. She was still openly staring at Jim, only vaguely acknowledging McCoy’s words, her original purpose for visiting sickbay obviously forgotten. Jim didn’t blame her for gaping - hell, he would have too if he were her. But he was really not in the mood for it.
He cleared his throat and kept going.
---------------
True to the empress’ word, their journey wasn’t long. A minute’s walk from the base of the palace, they soon reached a small forested area, an alcove lined with swooping purple trees and softly glowing flora. As they neared the apparent entrance, the empress reached back and took hold of Jim’s wrist. The captain was about to speak up in question when he felt a light, tingling pressure around his body as he passed the threshold. He’d been to enough planets to know what it was.
“A force field?”
“A barrier,” the empress confirmed, removing her hand from Jim. “Only those of royal blood may pass through to this site,” she turned to look at him, “and only persons who those of royal blood permit.”
The clearing in front of the pair was scarce save a small monument in the middle with an elegant silver bowl perched on top of it. Near the edge of the area lay a deep pool of water, a clear stream flowing into it from a rocky brook.
“In ancient times, this site was used as a place of peace,” the empress began, crossing the space of the clearing to stand by the monument. “Treaties and friendships were formed here between ourselves and the many we have had the privilege of meeting, both on and off this planet. After all had been done, it was proper custom for our visitors to partake of this spring.” She picked the bowl up off of the monument, gracefully crossing over to the pool of water. “You and your crew are the first visitors Dramiir has had in many generations.” The bowl was dipped into the pool, scooping up a generous portion of water. The empress straightened, turning and stopping in front of Jim and holding out the bowl. “I would be honored if you would allow me to renew this custom.”
Jim paused in thought. The pre-mission briefing had mentioned nothing about a ceremonial drinking of water from a spring of any kind. Then again, the empress had just stated the practice was ancient, which, if true, explained why it would not have been mentioned in the briefing presentation. The empress’ request seemed genuine and he didn’t see any harm in it, but he cautioned himself anyway.
“I appreciate your offer, Empress,” Jim said, a smile on his lips, “and I mean no disrespect, but I was not briefed on this… ritual of yours beforehand.”
The empress’ smile seemed sad. “You are understandably cautious. But you must know, this is not a trick. You may check our royal library if you wish - there are many documents that verify this practice; you would be more than welcome to view them if you so desired. …I would not lie to you, James Kirk.”
Jim averted his eyes, pondering over the empress’ words. Being a starship captain, it was only natural for him to be guarded against any potential threats or suspicions. That being said, the empress had only ever offered him kindness, friendship, and understanding ever since their first meeting - and apparently continued to do so. She’d presented to him an explanation, a way to put proof behind her request - Jim couldn’t find any fault in it.
The Dramiiri ruler remained genuine and straightforwardly honest.
Jim trusted her.
“I would be honored to take part in your custom,” he finally said, a warm smile working its way onto his face. The empress’ face broke out into a cheerful grin, an expression completely divergent from her usual formal presentation.
“Thank you, Captain,” she responded, stepping closer to Jim. “You have honored me with your choice… and your trust.” Without another word the empress lifted the bowl in a toasting gesture and brought it to her lips, drinking a small portion of the water inside. When she was finished she extended the bowl to Jim, who took it and lifted it in a similar gesture before taking a drink from the opposite side.
Nothing happened.
As the empress took the bowl back to its resting place, Jim pondered over the possible meanings of the ritual he’d just participated in. He felt no changes in his body, so he figured it must be an act of symbolism. Two different parties joining together through the act of consuming from a shared source, perhaps?
“It is done.” The Dramiiri was in front of Jim again. She bowed. “I thank thee for thy bond in trust.” Jim found he could only bow in return.
“Empress, if you would allow me, I believe I’ll return to the feasting hall.” Almost on impulse, he offered her his arm. She took it, smiling.
“Of course, Captain.” And although they left the area and walked back together, her final words before they reached the palace almost sounded like a parting statement:
“May your ultimate path lead you to the greatest happiness.”
---------------
“So let me get this straight.” McCoy looked livid. “You went off by yourself without any kind of supervision whatsoever, willingly ingested a substance whose origins you knew nothing about, and didn’t even think to mention this to anyone, let alone me, the minute you got back to the ship?”
“…Yes?”
The doctor shook his head and ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. Across the room, Uhura seemed to be expressing a similar sentiment. McCoy had to take a minute to compose himself before speaking again. “Well, you’re lucky it didn’t kill you and instead just turned you into…” he gestured searchingly, “this.”
Jim could only agree.
“So… What do we do now?”
“Medically? I can’t do a damn thing.” McCoy took his previously discarded PADD up off a nearby counter and scowled at it. “As far as my biological readings go, you’re one hundred percent Vulcan. The only human thing left about you is your personality. There’s nothing on you, chemical or otherwise, that can tell me what it is that did this to you, so presently there isn’t anything I can do for you.”
Jim nodded, taking the information in slowly and carefully. “We’ll have to send an away team to investigate that water source.” Human body or Vulcan, he was still the captain. He turned his eyes to the communications officer near the edge of the room. “Uhura, will you take care of that?”
She straightened slightly. “Yes, sir.”
Jim nodded. “Good. Try to speak with the empress if you can. You shouldn’t have too much trouble getting an audience with her now that the treaties have been signed. Take science officers Halliday and Jodi with you; their environmental and geological knowledge will help you best when investigating that water source.” He paused briefly in thought, contemplating his next decision. Jim offered a slight smile to Uhura. “And take along some security officers, just in case.”
Uhura smiled lightly in return. “Aye, sir.” She left without another word.
As if on cue, the comm unit whistled.
“Bridge to sickbay.”
Jim’s head lifted at the sound of Spock’s voice. McCoy raised an eyebrow at the almost apprehensive look on the captain’s face before crossing the distances and tapping the button to accept the call.
“Sickbay. McCoy here.”
“Doctor McCoy, do you know the whereabouts of the captain? He is not located in his quarters and has not reported to the bridge.”
McCoy cast a glance at Jim. “He’s down here in sickbay, Spock.”
“Is he injured?”
“No, no, he’s fine. It’s… nothing we can do anything about at this point, so there’s nothing to really concern yourself with, but…” He leaned his forehead against the wall and willed himself to not sigh. “I suppose when you have the time, you might want to come down and take a look for yourself.”
“Understood. I will be down shortly. Spock out.”
McCoy stepped away from the wall and moseyed back over to where Jim is sitting. Jim didn’t say anything, instead keeping still and looking like he’s contemplating something serious. The doctor waited a short moment longer before lightly clearing his throat.
“…I take it Spock doesn’t know?”
“We stayed in our separate quarters last night,” Jim answered, eyes still focused on a random section of the wall. “After we beamed back up from Dramiir I went straight to bed; Spock wanted to work late.”
“So… What do you think?”
“I don’t know how he’s going to react.”
McCoy took a seat next to Jim on the biobed, unable to hold back a small snort. “My guess would be ‘logically.’”
“It’s not funny, Bones,” Jim started to retort, but already he found he’d starting to laugh along with McCoy. It was an odd sight, the one of a distinctly Vulcan face caught in the expression of growing mirth, but it only served to make McCoy laugh harder.
“Sorry, Jim, but look at you! One of the most emotional bastards on the ship, and you get turned into a goddamn Vulcan.”
And it was kind of funny. It was practically ridiculous. Granted, this was the first time anything like this has ever happened before, and Bones was right - it wasn’t like he was dying. The idea of being able to shrug the situation off with humor was a welcome one; hell, Jim figureed that he and the rest of the crew could probably have a nice laugh about the whole thing once he got turned back into a human.
If he got turned back.
It hit him that there really wasn’t any guarantee that his body would be returned to its human form. His crew may have been the best and brightest of Starfleet, but even they couldn’t pull miracle cures out of the air. If Uhura and the away team were unsuccessful at getting an answer from the Dramiiri empress, Jim would have to resign himself to being a Vulcan for the rest of his life.
It wasn’t the worst thing that could possibly happen to him, but he wasn’t exactly jumping for joy at the prospect of it.
McCoy sobered next to him, taking in the sense of somberness in his friend. He settled a hand on Jim’s shoulder, careful not to touch any skin.
“Hey,” he offered, leaning over slightly in an attempt to make eye contact. “We’ll get through this, alright? For better or for worse,” he gently shook the captain’s shoulder, “we’ll get through this.”
Jim looked up, his blue eyes just a tad brighter. “Thanks, Bones.”
The gentle pressure near the edge of his mind suddenly increased. Spock was near.
Jim glanced to the door just as it opened. McCoy stood. Spock walked in, slowing significantly at the sight before him. His brown eyes widened ever so marginally, tracing over Jim’s obvious new features with a practiced sense of detailed observation. Otherwise, the half-Vulcan’s face revealed no visual reaction.
After a short, seemingly tense moment, the human-turned-Vulcan breathed a short laugh that no doubt doubled as a nervous sigh, helplessly gesturing to himself and shrugging. “…Yeah.”
Spock raised an eyebrow.
“Indeed.”
---------------
Part 2