Fire and Ice Pt. 2
Title: Fire and Ice
Author: orgy-of-death
Beta: lalazee
Artist: kymericl
Mixer: sullacat
Series: ST XI Hockey AU
Character/Pairing(s): Kirk/Spock, minor Pike/Winona
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 20,308
Warnings: Minor Violence, Swearing
Summary: Jim needed to be seen and Spock needed to find home, it took them spilling each others blood on the ice to find what they were looking for.
Part Two Under the Cut
``
It was only the second day of his three day suspension and Jim was already out of things to do. He had read all the books he had packed, porn-surprisingly enough-had no appeal, and Jim felt himself getting jittery with excess energy. So, Jim picked up his PADD and flicked open the default search engine and checked to see if there was a public fitness facility in the area. Jim found one nearby that wouldn’t cost him too many credits to use, so he changed into a lightweight white t-shirt and a pair of old basketball shorts, laced up his runners, grabbed his water bottle, and headed out the door.
Jim was a little giddy at the idea of working out, and he couldn’t wait until he was at the gym completely lost in his work-out. As he neared his car, Jim couldn’t help but smile faintly at the memory of the day prior, and Spock's difficultly in and out of the small vehicle.
Even though on the ice Spock drove Jim insane, in the few encounters they had had off the ice, Spock seemed like an okay guy; a little uptight, but okay. So, in trying to keep with his new found truce with Spock, Jim sauntered over to the other side of the hotel, intent on inviting Spock to join him for some training.
There was one problem; Jim didn’t actually know which room Spock was staying in. So after ten minutes of knocking on doors unsuccessfully, Jim finally knocked on the right one, for Spock emerged. Jim smiled awkwardly.
“Hey, Spock. I’m heading over to a local gym for some training and I was wondering if you’d like to come along?” Spock looked behind him at the small stack of PADDs he was currently pouring over, attempting to build a solid strategy for the tournament.
“I would be amiable to your suggestion Jim. Just allow me to change into more appropriate attire before we depart. You may wait inside, if you wish.” Spock stepped aside and motioned for Jim to enter.
“Alright,” Jim said with a nod as he stepped inside.
As Spock closed the door behind him, Jim couldn’t help but notice the stack of PADDs neatly organized on the small kitchen table in the corner. While Spock excused himself to the fresher to change, Jim quickly studied the various PADDs, completely baffled by the overly-technical language and break-down of the various hockey strategies Spock planned to implement as Captain. Jim felt the need to say something to Spock, but he quickly surmised that that would be a very bad idea, given that whenever Jim and Spock talked strategy on the ice it never ended well.
So, for once, Jim conceded and simply kept his mouth shut in order to protect the delicate truce he and Spock had, and by proxy, his place on the team. After Jim got bored of reading through the very detailed strategy outlines Spock had, he discreetly looked around the rooms for some clue as to what kind of guy Spock was off the ice.
Needless to say, Jim didn’t find many clues, as Spock was exceptionally neat-and aside from the stack of PADDs, the only thing laying about that Jim found was a rolled up yoga mat stuffed into the corner of the room, where Spock’s duffel bag sat. Jim had a hard time trying to block out the mental images of Spock flexing and bending himself into positions that bordered on pornographic.
Jim could see it now, Spock nearly bent in half, stretching his shoulders and hamstrings while practicing the Dolphin Pose. Jim groaned and was instantly glad he was wearing baggy basketball shorts, as he felt his groin begin to stir. Being a rampantly hormonal teenager without any outlet for sexual frustrations was rapidly becoming very inconvenient for Jim.
“Is something the matter Jim?”
Jim jumped slightly and turned to Spock. Jim was instantly aware of several things. One, his hormones were firing on all cylinders. Jim tried his best to very discreetly give Spock a good once over.
“No, I’m fine, just eager to get training.”
Jim had seen Spock every day for the last month and a half, so on some level he was aware of Spock’s towering physique, but it was completely different seeing Spock without all of the bulky gear he wore on the ice. Spock was only wearing sleeveless under-armor and what looked suspiciously like yoga pants- so, for the first time, Jim was afforded a prime view of Spock’s anatomy.
While Jim knew vaguely what to expect, as most hockey players had very similar builds, he was still surprised by Spock’s muscle tone. His shoulders seemed impossibly broad, perfectly molded deltoids tapered into sinewy triceps and defined pectorals. Beneath the under-armor Jim could faintly see the outline of soft-toned abdominal muscles and the ropey muscles along Spock’s flank, protecting his ribs.
Regrettably, Jim dragged his eyes back upward. Spock quirked an eyebrow at him as he turned to grab his gear bag. This, of course, gave Jim a great look at some of his favorite muscles groups, starting with toned trapezuis muscles that rippled down Spock’s broad back. Jim couldn’t help but drool slightly as Spock’s shirt rode up slightly, revealing two dimples on his lower back-Jim had the nearly uncontrollable urge to lightly dig his thumbs in. It was an odd fantasy, but Jim didn’t have time to dwell on this, as Spock bent slightly at the hips in order to grab his bag, which brought attention to Jim’s favorite part of the human body.
For a man, Jim couldn’t help but think, Spock had a very voluptuous ass. Every other part of him was all harsh angles and straight lines, but his posterior was all dangerously enticing curves, expertly encased by tight-fitting yoga pants and perfectly mounted above lean legs that went on forever. Jim could have sworn he had died and gone to heaven as Spock’s glutial muscles flexed slightly as he stood and slung his bag over his shoulder. Jim quickly adverted his gaze as Spock turned to face him again, lest he be caught staring.
“I am ready to depart,” Spock said to Jim, who nodded in return.
“Alright, the let’s blow this Popsicle stand,” Jim replied, grin tugging at his lips.
“Jim, I confess I am confused. I do not see a kiosk offering frozen juice treats anywhere in the vicinity of the hotel. Nor do I wish to ‘blow’ one if it were within range.”
Jim couldn’t help but burst into a fit of bright laughter. “You’re a funny guy, Spock. It’s a human idiom meaning ‘Let’s get out of here.’ I was merely suggesting we leave.” Spock quirked an eyebrow at Jim as Jim headed towards the door.
“Fascinating.” Spock pulled the door shut behind him and his companion. “Do you use idioms often?” Jim shifted the strap of his duffel bag awkwardly.
“I guess, most humans do. Why, did your mother not use idioms when she spoke?” Jim opened the door and shoved his bag in the backseat and as he reached for Spock’s, he couldn’t help but noticed the slight straightening of Spock’s posture.
“How do you know my mother is human?” Spock asked stiffly. Jim frowned slightly at Spock’s tone.
“Spock, you are one of the best hockey players in the League-your stats and heritage is well known to anyone who knows how to use the Nets.” Jim huffed slightly and hauled the duffel bag off of Spock’s shoulder and into his car.
“Oh. I apologize for my discourteous behavior, Jim, but my heritage is often a source of ridicule.” Jim clapped Spock on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it, Spock. I know how it is.” Jim rounded the car and slid effortlessly into the driver’s seat. The same could not be said for Spock. Jim stifled a laugh as Spock folded himself into the passenger’s seat. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the weird turn of events. Even he had to admit that the prospect of being friends with Spock was much more enticing than the prospect of getting punched in the face by Spock.
~~
When they arrived at the small local gym, Jim handed over his credit chip and after a bit of a struggle, Jim paid for both himself and Spock.
As they started their warm ups, Jim’s psyche decided that he deserved to be tortured, and he stupidly blurted out,
“So, when I was waiting for you to get changed I noticed you have a yoga mat. Do you do yoga?”
“Affirmative,” Spock replied, stretching his rotator cuff lightly.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been able to practice, what with the busy practice schedule and all. Do you wanna do some yoga?” Jim asked hopefully.
Spock arched his back as he raised his arms above his head, interlaced his fingers, and slowly brought his arms down, behind his back, stretching out his shoulders. Jim couldn’t help but stare as Spock’s shirt rode up, and his pants slid down his hips a little, revealing taut abdominal muscles and the thick, dark hair leading from his navel into the unknown recesses of his yoga pants. Happy trail, indeed.
“I would not be averse to practicing. I was unaware you practiced yoga, Jim.”
“Yeah, Bones, my physician, recommended it to improve my flexibility. I hated it at first, but it really helped, so I kept going. I’m pretty advanced now.”
With that, they fell into silence as they settled into the beginning poses and breathing exercises. Slowly, they made their way through the easy and simple poses, and graduated to the more difficult poses until they had moved up to the arm-lift poses like Mayurasana (or peacock pose) and Tittibhasana (or, the firefly pose). Jim could feel sweat dripping trails down his brow and down his back, and his arms ached heavily from the weight pressing down upon them.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jim looked over at Spock, whose suspended legs didn’t even quiver. The only indication that this was any challenge for him was the slightly sweat dampened hair at the back of his neck, and the light green flushing his cheeks. Jim thought this unfair, as he was sweating like a pig, and his muscles quivered slightly as he struggled to keep his breathing calm and level.
After what felt like an eternity, but was in all reality a mere thirty seconds, Jim and Spock released their pose and slipped into Downward-Facing Dog. As they descended into the final relaxation poses, Jim couldn’t help but feel invigorated. It had been so long since he had practiced he’d forgotten how serene he felt, despite the intense physical exertion yoga required. And it had been so long since Jim had practiced with another person with similar physical demands, that having Spock beside him-calm and motionless like a marble statue-really pushed Jim to embrace calmness as opposed to the high energy he usually associated with a work out. As they relaxed in Corpse Pose, Jim broke the silence.
“That was extremely enjoyable,” he said as he exhaled deeply.
“I agree.”
Jim had not expected Spock to reply, Corpse Pose was typically devoted to silent meditation, and knowing Vulcan’s devotion to mediation, Jim hadn’t expected Spock to break his meditative cycle in favor of conversation. However, Spock was exceptionally good at surprising Jim.
“I think it’s time for some running or weight-lifting or something now that we’re warmed-up.” Jim eased himself up off the floor mats, and sighed happily as he felt his muscles ache slightly from the exertion. Spock also rose and turned to look at Jim, eyebrow cocked.
“You never cease to amaze me with your boundless energy, Jim. We have just spent two hours practicing yoga, at a master level which involves intense physical exertion, and yet you still have a remarkable amount of energy. It is truly fascinating.”
Jim felt his smile stretch wider. “Gee, if I didn’t know any better Mr. Spock, I could almost swear that you were complimenting my stamina.”
“A compliment is a human device, a vehicle for pointless flattery. I am merely stating how intriguing it is that you seem impervious to exhaustion.” Jim rolled his eyes as he and Spock walked over to the row of treadmills lined up along a row of windows. As they stepped on the treadmills, chose their pace and started their runs, they both looked out at the bleak landscape.
“Not much of a view, is it?” Jim asked, starting with a light jog. Just beyond the windows laid the parking lot, drab and grey. Beyond the parking lot lay the main road, and several shops-all unremarkable, old fashioned brick buildings- and other than the odd customer here and there, not much transpired beyond the windows.
“I agree, the view is not very satisfactory,” Spock replied, his stride a little faster than Jim’s.
While life beyond the windows was boring, Jim fell into an easy stride with Spock. Jim had never thought that anything would come easy with Spock, but the camaraderie between them seemed natural. Jim had always felt the need to fill the silences and to be seen but, with Spock, Jim finally felt comfortable with the silence.
He knew Spock saw him. It was as if Jim was a spark and Spock was gasoline, and when they had first come together it had been explosive; every ounce, burning aggression. But the flames quickly fizzled out, leaving nothing but slight scorch marks remaining to speak of the violence that had transpired. All that was left of the fire that had raged in Jim when he punched Spock, was a warm burn that settled in the pit of his stomach.
Jim wasn’t sure if this was good, bad, healthy or unhealthy-but when he thought about punching Spock, and the look in his eye as Jim landed the first hit, Jim couldn’t help but feel proud at the pure look of shock as Spock finally saw the real Jim Kirk for the first time. Spock had been forced to look past what he thought of James Tiberius Kirk, and been able to see the real Jim .
It has been said that nothing reveals a man’s character better than violence. In their fist fight, both Jim and Spock had received the briefest glimpse of each other.
Jim couldn’t say what he’d seen in Spock that day, and by the careful manner Spock tread around him, Jim figured that Spock felt the same. But as they fell into step beside each other, the rhythm of their strides so naturally in-tune, Jim inherently knew that whatever had been set in motion between them, wasn’t stopping any time soon.
~~
Jim and Spock finally left the gym when their muscles, weary from hours of intense activity, ached and throbbed. Despite the pain radiating from Jim’s overworked muscles, Jim felt upbeat. Upbeat and hungry, apparently, as his stomach let loose a loud roar. As they hauled their gear out to Jim’s car, Jim dug out his cell phone.
“I’m starving. Do you like pizza, Spock?” Jim asked, entering in his co-ordinates into the GPS and waiting for it to find a pizza place nearby.
“I am familiar with the concept of pizza, although I have never ingested it,” Spock replied, wearily stuffing their gear into Jim’s small car. Jim paused and looked at Spock with an expression on his face caught between appalled and shocked.
“Wait. You mean to tell me, you have never eaten pizza.”
“I believe that is what I said,” Spock replied blankly. Jim caught him suppressing a wince as he wedged himself into the car.
“There is no way you’ve never eaten pizza. We must feed you some pizza. I do not understand how you have survived this long without eating pizza. Pizza is a gift from the heavens. It will blow your mind. We’ll get like a meat-lovers with extra sausage and onions-“
“Jim-“
“And mushrooms and peppers-“
“Jim-“
“Oh god, and bacon, how did I forget bacon-“
“Jim.” Jim immediately shuddered to a halt at the sound of Spock’s raised voice. Even at the peak of their arguments, Spock had never raised his voice. Jim looked at Spock, who quietly said “I am a vegetarian.”
“You’re a vegetarian?”
Spock pinched the bridge of his nose and suppressed a sigh.
“That is what I said.”
“So that’s a no to extra sausage and bacon,” Jim said flatly.
“No bacon, sausage or meat products of any kind, no.”
“Well, that’s a bummer. But I’ve gone veggie before, I suppose I can do it again.” Finally Jim’s phone had finished calculating the options and Jim selected the pizza place closest to the hotel. “Yeah, I’d like to place a delivery order-“
“Jim, if you wish to imbibe in meat products, you may do so, I do not wish to inconvenience you-“
Jim quickly put his hand over the receiver.
“Spock, don’t worry about it. It’s one meal, I won’t die if I have one meal without meat.” Jim returned to the call, relayed his order and the hotel’s address. When the call ended, Jim stuck his phone in his cup holder and started the car. As Jim pulled out of the parking lot, Spock turned to him again.
“Jim, earlier you stated you had ‘Gone Veggie Before’, what exactly did you mean by that statement?”
Jim stifled a giggle at hearing Spock say the word ‘veggie’.
“Uh, when I first found out I was invited to the preliminary training camp, I spent all summer training, so I could be good enough to make the team. In order to get rid of some small pockets of fat, I needed to augment my diet, and Bones suggested the best way to drop the fat fast was to get rid of meat. So, for the entire summer before the preliminaries, I was meatless.”
“Jim you continue to astound me with your dedication.”
At first, Jim thought Spock was trying to employ sarcasm, but when he turned to look at him briefly, Jim knew Spock was genuine. Jim squirmed a little under Spock’s awed gaze, unused to the reverent attention from Spock.
“Thanks. I mean it’s really no big deal.” Jim shrugged, but Spock was still looking at him oddly and Jim couldn’t help but shift awkwardly in his seat and reach for the radio.
~~
Of all the things Sulu could have guessed he would see upon entering the hotel room, Jim and Spock sitting cross-legged on Jim’s bed, eating pizza, talking animatedly and not beating each other senseless was not one of the scenario’s he’d imagined.
“I mean come on, Spock, it was a valid goal. Anyone with two eyes and a basic knowledge of hockey can tell you that-“
“I am sorry, Jim, but as the official ruling states, it was not a valid goal.”
“You have got to be kidding me. It went in, they at least should have at least reviewed it. I mean, it had already passed the goal line when Khabibulin grabbed it. Valid goal!”
Sulu cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling slightly intrusive. Jim and Spock quickly turned to him.
“Oh hey, Sulu. ‘Sup?”
“Hey, um. Not much? Hey Spock, how’s it hanging?”
Spock looked confused for a minute and turned to Jim.
“It’s an idiom. Sulu’s asking how you’re doing.”
“I see. I am doing well. Thank you, Hikaru.”
Sulu looked around looking for any temporal anomalies that would indicate he was, in fact, in the Twilight Zone. Jim grinned at the confused look on his roommate's face.
“Dude, no, you are not in the Twilight Zone right now. It’s a long story. Wanna piece of pizza?” Sulu shrugged and took this as an explanation and joined Spock and Jim for pizza. “How was practice?”
“Good. The new guy, Scotty, is a freaking genius on ice. Like seriously, it’s the freaking ice-capades out there, man.”
“Hold on, we signed Montgomery Scott? I thought he was Canadian?”
“Nah, dude, he lived in the Yukon province in Canada, but he’s not Canadian. I guess his parents immigrated to the U.S. or something. I don’t really know-all I know is that he’s one crazy dude. I’m sure you’ll get along great.”
“Are you calling me crazy? I am hurt Sulu-wounded even,” Jim replied, mock sadness in his voice as he placed a hand dramatically over his heart and Spock quirked an eyebrow comically at Jim’s antics.
“Dude, you punched our Vulcan Captain in the face. I’m pretty sure you are the definition of crazy.” Sulu replied, reaching for his second piece of pizza.
“Okay, so I’m maybe a little crazy. But only a little bit. Hey, Spock-any word on that Russian kid yet, what was his name? Cherov, Cherpov-“
“Pavel Andreovich Chekov. I believe Number One is attempting to integrate him into the team now that his U.S Citizenship has been finalized. The team physician has stated that Gary Mitchell will be unable to goal-tend for the rest of the season, at best,”
Sulu piped in quickly. “What I don’t understand is-why are we pursuing another goalie? I mean, we have our back-up goalie. Gaila is solid. Plus, why isn’t Chekov playing for Mother Russia? I mean, the kid’s Russian.”
“Regulations state we are required two goal-tenders and Pavel is one of the best this world has to offer. As for his Russian heritage, that hardly seems relevant to his spot on the team.”
Sulu looked at Spock with disbelief.
“Come on, Spock, isn’t it a conflict of interest? Aren’t we slated to play Russia during the tournament?”
“We are, but if Pavel held some allegiance towards his home country, he would no doubt be goal-tending for the Russian team. Instead, he has chosen to play for our team. Is his alliance not obvious, Hikaru?”
Sulu was silent in response; Jim couldn’t help but grin at the verbal pummeling his friend had received. It was nice not being on the receiving end of Spock’s ruthless Vulcan logic for a change, and while Sulu had a valid point, Spock was right. If Chekov had some sort of allegiance to his home country, he would be playing for them. Jim had seen the kid’s stats-every country was clambering for a kid as promising as the tiny Russian. The kid was only fifteen and he was out-playing some seasoned NHL goalies, stat-wise.
Jim was excited at the possibility of working with another young, talented player. It was really surreal for him when he really stopped to think about it.
Here he was, a small town farm boy who had worked his ass off, on the ice, for six years, and ended up representing his country in the IIHF World Juniors 2250, with the world’s best players under 20. There were days when Jim woke up feeling like he was on some cheesy after school special, and he was having a hard time believing that this really was his life, now. But he tried not to dwell on it, and jumped back into the conversation Spock and Sulu were having about the recent additions to the team.
~~
Like yesterday, Jim spent the last day of his suspension with Spock, contorted and flexed at the gym, practicing yoga. When they returned to their hotel with a pleasant ache residing in their strained muscles, Jim couldn’t feel anything other than contentment as he parted ways with Spock and headed to his room for a hot shower. However, he groaned slightly, when he was greeted by the form of Bones standing at his door, med-kit in hand.
“It’s about damned time! I’ve been banging on your door for the last ten minutes. I thought you’d re-broken your nose in your sleep and choked on your own blood,” Bones said gruffly, and Jim couldn’t help but dead-pan at his friend’s antics. “Well, are you going to let me in, or keep staring at me like a damned fool?” Jim rolled his eyes and pushed past Bones, unlocked the door and motioned for him to enter the hotel room. “Sit down and let me get a good look at your face.”
Jim did as he was told as Bones dug out a small pen light, slid some medical gloves on and scanned Jim’s face, prodding sporadically.
“Well, the swelling in your nose has gone down substantially. It’s gonna take a couple weeks before it really starts healing. So be careful about taking anymore hits to the face, for at least the next month. I’m taking the butterflies off, your split lip has scabbed over well and there’s no signs of infection. How’s your hand and wrist feeling?”
“It’s alright, I don’t think I cracked anything. I was able to do Mayurasana and Tittibhasana without any sharp or unusual pains.” Bones looked at him blankly.
“You were doing yoga?”
“Yeah, I found a local gym and Spock practiced with me-“
“Wait, wait wait-“ Bones replied sharply as he changed the bandages on Jim’s left hand. “You were out practicing yoga with the guy who broke your nose not three days ago. That’s crazy, even for you, Jim.”
“Look,” Jim sighed and ran his right hand through his sweaty hair. “I know it’s weird, but Spock and I came to a truce, I guess. I figured that the best way to extend the olive branch was to train with the guy. Spock happens to do yoga, and you’re always telling me to work on my flexibility-so we practiced.”
Now that Jim finally heard it all explained out loud, it seemed really asinine to him. With the look Bones was fixing him with, apparently he thought so, too.
Jim felt himself get a little nervous. It was always unnerving to have Bones stare at him like that. It was like he knew that deep down Jim was bullshitting himself and that the real reason Jim asked Spock to do yoga with him had nothing to do with extending the proverbial olive branch. If Bones knew anything, he didn’t say so. He merely finished bandaging Jim’s hand and concluded the brief check-up.
“Alright, I’m clearing you for duty. As much as I would like to keep you off the ice for a little while longer, to give your nose more time to heal, I know that with the first round only a couple weeks away they need you on the ice. So, you’re all clear,” Bones said to Jim as he packed up his small medical kit. “Just remember, no more hits to the face, or you’re gonna have to live life with a perpetually crooked nose.”
“Don’t worry, Bones, the face shield attached to my helmet should keep my nose safe.”
Bones rolled his eyes. “It’s what happens after the helmet comes off I’m worried about. See ya later, Jim.”
“Bye, Bones.” Jim waved his friend off and closed the door behind him. With a deep sigh, Jim padded to the bathroom, looking forward to a long, hot shower.
~~
Startled awake, Jim rolled over and groped for his chronometer . Three A.M-what an ungodly time for someone to be pounding on his door.
In the next bed, Jim could hear Sulu’s snoring stutter to a stop, and the cursing begin. Hauling himself up out of bed and to the door, the last person he expected to see standing there was Spock-who looked off kilter; a look Jim was sure had nothing to do with the early hour.
“Spock? What’s going on-it’s Three A.M.”
“Jim, I must leave immediately, and I do not see my return in the imminent future,” Spock said hastily. His duffel was slung over his shoulder.
“Wait, wait, what? Spock, the tournament starts in three weeks! You can’t just leave-“
“Jim, I must leave. My…” Spock trailed off suddenly and Jim noticed Spock’s jaw clench and his brows furrow. There was a tightness around Spock’s eyes he’d never seen there before.
“Spock, what’s going on?” Jim asked, stepping out of his room, and pulling his door closed slightly behind him. If Jim hadn’t been laser-focused on Spock, he would have surely been embarrassed that he was standing in front of Spock in his Batman Boxers.
“My mother has taken ill. It is likely she…” Spock’s voice caught as he spoke. “May not recover. I must return home immediately and help care for her.”
Jim sucked in a harsh breath, running a hand through his hair.
“Shit. Um, okay Spock. You do what you need to do.”
Jim stood awkwardly in front of Spock, not knowing how to proceed in this kind of situation. Jim felt compelled to hug Spock, but their new friendship was still precarious, so Jim hesitated. But looking up at Spock’s lost expression, Jim threw caution to the wind and carefully wrapped his arms around Spock.
He felt Spock stiffen against him, but after a moment he sagged against Jim slightly. After what felt like a small eternity, Spock extricated himself from Jim, and straightened.
“I have already notified the General Manager and Number One, and I requested that in my absence you be named Team Captain.”
Jim’s eyes widened comically as Spock said this, and Jim got the sudden urge to haul Spock’s face down to his and kiss him. Jim felt like dirt for judging Spock so harshly in the days previous. Spock’s mother had taken ill, not likely to live and he had taken the time to tell the General Manager and Head Coach that Jim should take his place as Captain. Jim felt something in his chest tighten.
“Spock, I don’t know what to say.”
“You do not need to say anything, Jim. You will make a good Team Captain.” Jim would have smiled if circumstances had been different
“I’m sorry about your mom, Spock.”
Jim didn’t know what else he could verbally say to Spock so, utilizing Vulcan touch-telepathy, he lightly pressed his fingers against the back of Spock’s hand doing his best to convey what words failed to. Spock had once said to Jim that touching hands was an intimate gesture to Vulcans and Jim thought vaguely that a gesture like this was probably inappropriate, but Jim felt no other gesture would be appropriate.
“Thank you, Jim.” Spock said, his quiet voice hoarse around the edges. With that, Spock pulled away and left-for how long, Jim wasn’t sure. All he really knew was that in four days Spock had become an entirely new person to him, and Jim wasn’t sure he knew how to deal with the person Spock was to him now.
~~
After Spock had departed, Jim had found himself unable to find a restful sleep, and this frustrated him to no end. He had practice bright and early in the morning and he needed to show the GM and Number One he was worthy of the title of Team Captain-but his concern for Spock was making him restless and anxious.
For so long, Jim had focused on no one but himself, that the intensity of his feelings towards Spock derailed him. It brought back painful memories of his brother leaving Jim behind, and of his Uncle awkwardly hugging his mother as she cried, and the tightness in his chest was overwhelming. He tossed and turned for another few hours before he succumbed to exhaustion, and slept.
~~
Convincing the General Manager had been easy. On the other hand, convincing Number One that he could be an exceptional Team Captain was the difficult part. However, in the end, the team flourished under Jim’s guidance and they were playing better than ever before. This was enough to convince Number One.
Jim was ecstatic, and he finally felt like he had truly found his niche, but he still felt the weight of the empty space at his side where Spock had once been. He’d had little time to deal with Spock’s absence before a replacement was brought in-surprisingly enough, from the women’s junior team.
At the turn of the twenty second century, the regulations of the World Juniors had changed, allowing women to compete in the International Ice Hockey Federation tournament, which had opened the doors to a previously untapped market of great talent and dexterity on ice.
The firecracker named Uhura, who was temporarily replacing Spock as the first line right winger, was proof of that. She had an advantage that the men did not have; due to her smaller build, she was able to slide along the ice, easily evading and out-skating the bigger, bulkier players.
However, despite her small stature, Uhura was easily categorized as one of the big dogs. Completely unafraid, she would fearlessly take hits, body-check, trash-talk and throw the gauntlet down with players that lumbered over her. She quickly gained a reputation as the fire on the ice-and if Jim didn’t want to live his life with a perpetually crooked nose, he would have no doubt tried to goad her into punching him. Which she no doubt would have.
With all of the last minute injuries and changes to the roster, the American team wasn’t expected to make it past the first round against Switzerland. But they took everyone by surprise when they stormed the ice and conquered the dumbfounded Swiss team, their first game. The game which had taken place in Detroit, the home of the Red Wings, had gotten the apathetic crowd-already conceding defeat-to their feet screaming and cheering for their life, as Jim and the rest of the team effortlessly dominated the ice, scoring two goals in the first period and winning the game with a score of 4-0.
But it wasn’t just the action in front of the net that was amazing, but the astounding saves made by the youngest team member, Pavel Andreovich Chekov. He caught, grabbed, deflected, and smothered every shot with tenacity and ease that rivaled the legendary Finnish goal-tender, Miikka Kiprusoff-which was truly remarkable for a boy of fifteen.
With their win came the tangible excitement and pride, the likes of which none of the young players had felt before; and it only served to motivate them to play even harder and come out from their underdog status as real contenders.
Game after game, the enterprising young team consistently defied the odds and won the first round against Switzerland, four games to one. When they had won their final game of the round, Jim couldn’t help but wish Spock was with them, celebrating.
Jim and all the first line had gathered in his hotel room and were watching the highlights of the game, when the news break came on and Jim felt his stomach drop.
“Sadly, the wife of the Vulcan Ambassador passed away this morning. Amanda Grayson, the former head of Federation Public Relations passed away from leukemia in her Montreal home, early this morning. Her husband, Sarek of Vulcan, made a statement this morning, with his son Spock beside him. Now, you may recognize Spock as one of the star players representing the U.S Team in the IIHF World Juniors, three years in a row. It is unclear about whether or not Spock will return to the team for the next round, but it is highly unlikely…” The laughter and joviality in the room was suddenly gone as everyone watched as Spock stood stony and silent beside his father as his father made a statement to the press.
“Oh god, poor Spock,” Uhura said quietly, a hand at her mouth and tears welling in her eyes. As Jim watched Spock, he was suddenly glad the next round was taking place in Montreal. He wanted to find Spock and do as much as he could for him. Jim had no idea what he could really do for Spock, but that wasn’t going to stop him.
Jim looked around the hotel at his teammates and addressed them quietly.
“Okay guys, go get some sleep. We have a long day of traveling tomorrow. I’ll see you guys in the parking lot at Seven A.M. ”
Jim grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. His teammates quickly left-everyone except Sulu, who paused and looked over at Jim sitting on the bed with his head in his hands.
“Jim?”
Jim jumped, clearly startled.
“Yeah?”
“You okay, man?” Sulu asked, taking a small step towards Jim.
“Yeah, just tired. Long week,” Jim replied, a weak smile pulling at his lips.
Sulu nodded and moved to leave but he paused again.
“Hey, Jim, it was Spock who showed up at Three A.M. a couple weeks ago, wasn’t it?”
Jim nodded quietly.
“Yeah, it was him.”
“What did he say to you?”
“He told me his mom was dying and he needed to leave,” He said with a sigh, looking blankly at Sulu.
“Shit. Do you think we should go see him and pay respects or something?”
“No, I don’t. He’s getting swamped by the press right now. I think the team going over there is a bad idea. Plus, he’s Vulcan and this is an emotional time. Everyone swarming him will only make it worse.”
Which is why I’m going over there by myself, Jim thought.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right”
“Goodnight, Sulu.”
“Night, Jim.”
After Sulu had left, Jim flopped back down onto his bed. He grabbed his personal PADD and looked up Spock’s address.
~~
When they arrived in Montreal, the whole team was relieved that they were able to spend a week sightseeing in one of the most beautiful cities in Canada. Jim was just glad he could finally see Spock.
After a brief rendezvous at the hotel, Jim returned to his hover car-which in all honesty, he was surprised had lasted the trip from Colorado to Detroit and now to Montreal-opened up the GPS on his PADD, and headed towards Spock’s house. Had Jim been any less focused on finding Spock, he would have felt slightly intimidated by the increasingly large, sprawling estates. After meandering slowly around the neighborhood, the GPS signaled Jim to pull into the gated driveway just ahead of him.
As Jim pulled up to the intercom he panicked briefly; what was he going to say? I‘m a friend/teammates of Spock’s and I’m worried about him-so, yeah, let me in?
And for that matter, who was Jim? Was he Spock’s friend? Just days before Spock’s abrupt departure, Jim had punched him in the face. Then they’d come to a truce-found a rapport that Jim hadn’t believed he could find with Spock. But that didn’t change the fact that, during the majority of their time together, Jim and Spock had disliked each other and had been on the cusp of violence. Jim put his head on the steering wheel, trying to sort through all the confusion, to find the right answer. Suddenly, it occurred to Jim, most gated houses had security cameras fixed on the gates. Jim groaned and smacked his head against the steering wheel in frustration. There was no point in leaving now-someone had seen him. If he just left it would look suspicious, so Jim steeled all his courage, rolled down his window and leaned out to press the button.
A cold baritone voice crackled to life from the intercom “If you are a member of the press, I ask you to leave the premises promptly and cease your intrusions-“
“What? No! I’m not with the press. I’m a teammate and…friend of Spock’s, and I was coming to see how he is,” Jim said lamely.
There was a brief pause,
“My son is as he should be.”
Jim rolled his eyes at the cryptic response. “I know this is a hard time, but would I be able to see him?”
Another pause,
“I do not believe that is wise-”
“Father, who is at the front gate?” Jim jumped slightly at Spock’s voice.
“Spock!”
“Jim? What are you doing here?” Spock asked.
“The next round is being played in Montreal and I heard about your Mom, so I came to see you as soon as I got here.”
There was a long pause and Jim began to think Spock had fled, but just as Jim was about to pull away and leave Spock with his grief, the gates eased open. Jim sighed in relief and pulled up the driveway towards the expansive house.
Now that Jim was standing in front of the largest house he had ever seen, he quickly became self-conscious, standing there in his beat up jeans, white t-shirt, and scuffed converse runners. He had no time to dwell on himself though-as the door opened to reveal Spock standing there, looking weary; unlike Jim had ever seen him. A sad smile spread across Jim’s face as he looked at Spock.
“Hey, Spock. I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Thank you, Jim, your condolences are appreciated.” They both stood there for a minute, unsure of how to proceed. “Would you like to come in?”
“Sure.”
As Jim entered, he was astounded at the sheer vastness of the house. The ceilings were vaulted and riddled with beautiful skylights. Jim remembered Vulcan architecture from his studies and Spock’s house clearly emulated it. As Spock led Jim through the house, presumably to his room, Jim couldn’t help but notice bare spots on the wall where pictures had once been.
His heart squeezed painfully, reminding him of his own mother taking down the pictures of Sam and hiding the photo album filled with pictures of his dad.
He knew this side of grief well; it was the stage nobody told you about. I was a time when you hid from the good memories, when you hid from anything that brought you back to the reality that you had lost someone. A time when you hid yourself from every feeling you had felt before. It was safer and easier to hide from our life than it was to live it and confront your grief.
Jim knew that it would be especially hard for Spock to move past this, being part of a race that suppressed all emotion in favor of unwavering logic. Confronting his grief to overcome it would require Spock to face emotions that would be taboo for a Vulcan.
When they reached Spock’s room, Jim noted a picture placed face-down on the nightstand. Again, Jim was struck with the urge to reach out and touch Spock’s hand. Jim knew that if he were to turn that picture face up again that he would see a picture of Spock and his Mom. He knew, because he had done the same thing when Sam had died. When he had returned to his room after the endless hours of hospitals, police questions and psychoanalysis, he had slammed the picture of him and Sam down so hard the glass had cracked. Jim wondered if the glass in Spock’s frame was cracked too.
It took a moment for Jim to realize they were just standing in Spock’s room, silent; Spock staring at Jim and Jim staring at Spock’s picture.
“Everyone on the team wanted me to tell you they’re all thinking about you, and they’re sorry about your mom,” Jim said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck absently.
Why am I here?
“Tell them their thoughts and condolences are appreciated,” Spock said evenly, looking as awkward as Jim felt.
“We ended up pulling this chick, Nyota Uhura, from the woman’s team to fill the empty spot on the team, for now.”
Spock’s eyebrows flicked up briefly.
“What are you implying Jim?” Spock asked, his tone darkening.
“I’m not implying anything. I’m just saying that while you’re gone she’s filling in for you. But she knows it’s only a temporary gig, when you decide to come back-“
“Jim, I am not returning to the team-or professional hockey, for that matter.”
“Wait, what?” Jim felt hit by a ton of bricks. “What do you mean you won’t be returning to hockey?”
“I meant what I said, Jim. I will not be returning to the team, or professional hockey. It is time to put childish things away and accept my responsibilities as a man. After my mother’s funeral, I will be returning to Vulcan and re-submitting my application to the Vulcan Science Academy.”
“Leave childhood things behind? What kind of after school special crap is that? Spock, I know you. You’re built for the ice, you are one of the best players I’ve ever seen-“
“While I admire your praise, Jim, it does not change the fact that it is time I left hockey and accept my responsibilities-“
“What responsibilities, Spock? Are you telling me that you’re giving up something you love-to what? Go to the Vulcan Science Academy and be like all of the other Vulcans? Newsflash Spock, you aren’t like the other Vulcans!”
“Jim. That is enough-“
“No, it isn’t. Why are you doing this? When were you going to tell me this?”
“Jim, I do not owe you an explanation, and I would appreciate it if you showed yourself out.”
“No.” Jim took a step towards Spock, the air between them snapping taut, the tension suffocating as Jim stepped into Spock’s personal space. “What is it Spock-why are you doing this? Now that your mom’s gone, is everyone looking at you differently? All the eyes on you, expecting an emotional outburst, too much pressure-“
“Your presumption that these experiences somehow interfere with my abilities to play hockey-“
“Then what is it? With your mom gone, your last shred of humanity needs to be buried with her-“
Spock’s voice trembled and turned volcanic “Step away from me-“
“No. If she knew you were throwing away your passion to be just another Vulcan scientist, she would be rolling over in her grave-“
Jim was cut off by a guttural roar from Spock, as Jim was shoved, sending him tumbling backwards, sprawling across Spock’s bed. Jim swung his legs out and landed a heavy kick on Spock’s hip, and Spock descended on him, pinning him beneath his weight. Jim flailed and struggled, grabbing Spock’s wrists and yanking them away from his throat where they were scrabbling for purchase.
Quickly, Spock shuddered and went still, his chest heaving from exertion. Jim stilled slowly, loosening his grip on Spock’s wrists, easing them upward and slowly intertwining their fingers. Spock’s breath hitched again and he looked Jim in the eye. Jim looked back, seeing all the things in Spock’s face he had once felt made him look like a lost puppy…a hulking, heaving, grief-stricken puppy.
In an unusually tender gesture, Jim extricated one of his hands from Spock’s grip and placed it on his face. Spock jerked away from Jim’s hand.
“Jim, I cannot…” After a moment, like snapping from a daze, Spock jerked away from Jim and up off the bed. They stared at each other, not knowing how to proceed. “I think…it would be best if you leave.”
Jim nodded and sat up.
“Yeah. “ He stood and straightened his clothes. Casting one more look at Spock who-for the first time since Jim met him-looked ruffled and disheveled, as he made to leave. He stopped in the doorway.
“Spock, you are not like other Vulcans. Please-” Jim tried to keep the edge of desperation out of his voice. “Don’t try to be.”
With that, Jim quickly strode out and down the hallway, past the places where pictures once hung, down the stairs and out of the house. Jim did his best to ignore his erratic heartbeat as he threw himself into his hover car. As he rolled the engine over and peeled out of the driveway, he nearly rammed into the gate as he struggled with his seatbelt. He reached out his car window and pressed the button requesting the gates to be opened. Once the gates opened, Jim stepped on the gas and thundered out of suburban Montreal.
He desperately fumbled with his radio, trying to find something so he wouldn’t have to be alone with his thoughts. As he descended back into urban Montreal, Jim was thankful he had the next week free to bury the disastrous meeting under a mountain of training and sight-seeing.
~~
After three days, sight-seeing had lost its luster. After two more days, slipping in and out of yoga studios, rarely spending more than an hour in each, also grew old. No matter what style of yoga or what group of people Jim practiced with, nothing felt right. No matter how he contorted, Jim felt something missing.
There was no silent challenge, no one beside him that could marshal, without words, into the next pose, urging his muscles to shifting into place perfectly. After an hour of unfocused, unsatisfying practice, Jim left the studio and headed towards the nearest gym.
As Jim started the treadmill, he remembered looking out at the dismal Colorado landscape of parking lots and empty shops. He was quickly reminded that this time, Spock was not beside him, falling into step with him. Abruptly, he jumped off the treadmill. It seemed as if Spock was destined to plague Jim, haunt him like the ghost of the three days Jim had felt seen.
Jim shook himself out and sighed angrily, stalking off back towards his hotel. He was determined to cloister himself in his room and read until the day he could step foot on the ice and find home beneath his skates.
As he turned down the final corridor, Jim’s heart stopped in his chest. The world tilted off its axis-and like Dorothy seeing color for the first time in Oz-there stood Spock, in front of his door with his gear bag at his feet. It was hard to resist the urge to run down the hallway to Spock, slamming into him and sending them both crashing to the floor in a graceless tangle of legs and arms, and all of the jumbled up things Jim felt. But in the end, Jim settled for briskly walking towards the tall Vulcan obstructing his doorway.
“Spock…” Jim was starting to become irritated with the way Spock always took the words out of his mouth at these important moments.
Spock turned and looked at Jim-and Jim saw that spark in Spock’s eyes. The same spark he had had when he had broken Jim’s nose. A chill skittered down Jim’s spine at the notion of Spock making him see stars again, and Jim wondered if he should be preparing himself for a tactical assault.
“You are the most infuriating human I have ever met. And I have met many.”
Jim instantly deflated and scrunched his face indignantly.
“You came all the way down here to tell me that? Spock, I already know that-“
“I am not finished, Jim. You are the most infuriating human I have ever met. You do not know the meaning of the word ‘enough’ and you are a constant grating on my senses-“
“Why gee, Spock, I didn’t know you felt that way-“ Jim drawled sarcastically.
“Silence. You are constantly pushing me, pulling me and trying my patience… But these are not always unfortunate characteristics of yours, Jim.” Jim blinked, a little stunned by the sudden fondness in Spock’s voice. “It is these qualities that make you a truly great Captain, and it is these qualities I admire most about you. In the last few months, interacting with you has truly brought out the humanity in me…and this is not a bad thing. You are right, Jim. I am not like other Vulcans, and so I will not try to be. I am a child of two worlds, but neither Earth nor Vulcan is home. You are, Jim. You are home.”
Jim released the breath he had been holding and let the smile unfurl across his face. As he looked up at Spock, Jim stopped fighting himself and crashed his lips to Spock’s. It was clumsy; Spock had to bow himself slightly to make up for the four inch height difference, and sloppy due to Jim’s frayed nerves-but it was the perfect rush to kick off what was about to unfold for them
~~
While Jim had longed to stay cloistered in his hotel room with Spock, eager to explore their brave new world, Spock’s infallible logic was once again his downfall. They needed to find Number One and discuss if it was within regulations to bring Spock back onto the team in the middle of the tournament.
After an unscheduled detour around the hotel while Jim tried to ‘find his bearings’-which Spock had come to know as a thinly veiled excuse Jim liked to use to assuage any doubts about the facts he was indeed lost-they finally ended up standing outside of Number One’s room. Jim couldn’t help but smile slightly as Number One looked at them through the open doorway with a mix of surprise and suspicion.
“Kirk, please tell me you haven’t done anything reckless.”
“Me, reckless? Never! Right Spock?” Jim elbowed Spock good-naturedly, and Spock merely quirked a brow at Jim. “I haven’t done anything, I promise. There is just some logistical stuff I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What kind of logistical stuff?”
“Like, whether or not it is within the rules for Spock to rejoin the team before the next round.” Number One sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Come inside. Now.” Jim and Spock entered, Jim looking like the cat who ate the canary. “A couple weeks ago you wanted nothing more than to beat each other to death on the ice. Now you would like me to find a way to circumvent the rule so we can have Spock placed back on the team two days before the second round?”
“Basically…yeah.” Jim was honestly aware of how bizarre this all sounded. It felt even more surreal. Number One sighed and turned to Spock,
“Are you sure you want to come back to the team? Your mother passed a week ago.”
“Yes. My mother was extremely vocal when it came to my decision to play hockey. It was what she wanted, and it is what I want.”
“Alright.” Number One walked to the oak desk by the window and grabbed the small paper-back manual sitting upon it. “This is the official rulebook. Not much has changed in the last couple centuries, aside from Gender and Xenobiological restrictions, so if there’s some loophole we can extort to get Spock back on the team we will find it in here.” After ten minutes of flipping, skimming and scanning they found all the ammunition they were going to need.
“So basically, because he was not formally discharged and did not have a set time limit on his absence, Spock can rejoin the team at anytime?”
“That is what it says in the rulebook.”
“But what about the number of players? Our roster is completely full now, with Uhura filling Spock’s position.”
“It appears Olsen has suffered a high-ankle sprain and will be out for the rest of the season, if not the whole year.”
“Wow. How did he do that?”
“Stumbling around Old Montreal like a drunken fool. There was talk about ejecting him from the tournament, but now with the sprain it is unnecessary. I will speak to Nyota and see if she would be willing to fill his position as defenseman .”
“Has she ever played that position before?”
“She has. I would not be concerned, Kirk. Changing her position is the least of our worries with all of the other line changes.”
“I suppose you’re right. Does this also mean he assumes the title of Team Captain as well?”
“Normally yes, but it was Spock’s request that you be named Team Captain, so I believe that the title should stay with you. Spock can petition for the role of Assistant Captain if he so chooses, as the slot is conveniently open.”
“In that case, Spock, you wanna be my Co-Captain?”
“It would be my honor, Jim.”
Number One looked over at Jim and Spock, who, not that long ago, had stood on the ice and battled each other until they drew blood, having to be pulled apart like unruly dogs. Now they stood close to each other, looking like impossibly old souls who had been reunited.
“I suppose it is settled, then. Welcome back to the team, Spock.” Number One nodded, and gave Spock the Vulcan salute Jim had seen many times, but been unable to master.
Spock returned the greeting.
“Thank you, I am glad to be back.”
“Good. Now, go practice at the rinks or something. Just don’t come back to me with anymore game-changers-all right, Kirk?”
Jim grinned and nodded.
“You got it Coach, let’s roll Spock!”
~~
It was early before the first game of the second round had started-too early for the rest of the team to be at the Arena. It was only Jim and Spock in the dressing room, sliding from their street clothes and into their under-armor, freely able to explore each other’s bodies so openly.
As Spock bent to retrieve his practice jersey from the bench where it sat, Jim was finally able to sidle up behind Spock and slide his thumbs into the perfect dimples and either side of his spine. Spock had raised a questioning brow at Jim’s maneuver, but Jim said nothing. He simply enjoyed the moment of standing there, enjoying his small personal victories.
Woefully, Jim slid his hands off Spock’s lower back so he could retrieve his and Spock’s skates. Sitting on the bench in the dressing room, lacing up their skates, a companionable silence fell over them, arms brushing ever so often as they began their routine of properly tightening their skates.
When their skates had finally been tightened and they stood to leave, Jim was again struck with Spock’s height. With the extra three inches added to his height from his skates-Spock was a towering six foot seven-and Jim began to wonder why he ever thought punching Spock was a good idea.
Jim smiled and pulled Spock down to kiss the faint sliver of green where Jim had split his lip. The tips of Spock’s ears tinged green and Jim cracked a grin leading Spock out of the dressing room towards the ice.
As Jim and Spock stood together that the precipice of the ice and looked out at the empty seats which would soon be filled with a roaring crowd, Jim indulged himself one last time. He touched his pointer and middle finger to Spock’s, a Vulcan gesture Spock had taught him that symbolized a kiss. With the tingling thrill of their Vulcan kiss running through him, Jim stepped on the ice and turned to Spock.
“Welcome home, Spock.”
~The End.~
Author: orgy-of-death
Beta: lalazee
Artist: kymericl
Mixer: sullacat
Series: ST XI Hockey AU
Character/Pairing(s): Kirk/Spock, minor Pike/Winona
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 20,308
Warnings: Minor Violence, Swearing
Summary: Jim needed to be seen and Spock needed to find home, it took them spilling each others blood on the ice to find what they were looking for.
Part Two Under the Cut
``
It was only the second day of his three day suspension and Jim was already out of things to do. He had read all the books he had packed, porn-surprisingly enough-had no appeal, and Jim felt himself getting jittery with excess energy. So, Jim picked up his PADD and flicked open the default search engine and checked to see if there was a public fitness facility in the area. Jim found one nearby that wouldn’t cost him too many credits to use, so he changed into a lightweight white t-shirt and a pair of old basketball shorts, laced up his runners, grabbed his water bottle, and headed out the door.
Jim was a little giddy at the idea of working out, and he couldn’t wait until he was at the gym completely lost in his work-out. As he neared his car, Jim couldn’t help but smile faintly at the memory of the day prior, and Spock's difficultly in and out of the small vehicle.
Even though on the ice Spock drove Jim insane, in the few encounters they had had off the ice, Spock seemed like an okay guy; a little uptight, but okay. So, in trying to keep with his new found truce with Spock, Jim sauntered over to the other side of the hotel, intent on inviting Spock to join him for some training.
There was one problem; Jim didn’t actually know which room Spock was staying in. So after ten minutes of knocking on doors unsuccessfully, Jim finally knocked on the right one, for Spock emerged. Jim smiled awkwardly.
“Hey, Spock. I’m heading over to a local gym for some training and I was wondering if you’d like to come along?” Spock looked behind him at the small stack of PADDs he was currently pouring over, attempting to build a solid strategy for the tournament.
“I would be amiable to your suggestion Jim. Just allow me to change into more appropriate attire before we depart. You may wait inside, if you wish.” Spock stepped aside and motioned for Jim to enter.
“Alright,” Jim said with a nod as he stepped inside.
As Spock closed the door behind him, Jim couldn’t help but notice the stack of PADDs neatly organized on the small kitchen table in the corner. While Spock excused himself to the fresher to change, Jim quickly studied the various PADDs, completely baffled by the overly-technical language and break-down of the various hockey strategies Spock planned to implement as Captain. Jim felt the need to say something to Spock, but he quickly surmised that that would be a very bad idea, given that whenever Jim and Spock talked strategy on the ice it never ended well.
So, for once, Jim conceded and simply kept his mouth shut in order to protect the delicate truce he and Spock had, and by proxy, his place on the team. After Jim got bored of reading through the very detailed strategy outlines Spock had, he discreetly looked around the rooms for some clue as to what kind of guy Spock was off the ice.
Needless to say, Jim didn’t find many clues, as Spock was exceptionally neat-and aside from the stack of PADDs, the only thing laying about that Jim found was a rolled up yoga mat stuffed into the corner of the room, where Spock’s duffel bag sat. Jim had a hard time trying to block out the mental images of Spock flexing and bending himself into positions that bordered on pornographic.
Jim could see it now, Spock nearly bent in half, stretching his shoulders and hamstrings while practicing the Dolphin Pose. Jim groaned and was instantly glad he was wearing baggy basketball shorts, as he felt his groin begin to stir. Being a rampantly hormonal teenager without any outlet for sexual frustrations was rapidly becoming very inconvenient for Jim.
“Is something the matter Jim?”
Jim jumped slightly and turned to Spock. Jim was instantly aware of several things. One, his hormones were firing on all cylinders. Jim tried his best to very discreetly give Spock a good once over.
“No, I’m fine, just eager to get training.”
Jim had seen Spock every day for the last month and a half, so on some level he was aware of Spock’s towering physique, but it was completely different seeing Spock without all of the bulky gear he wore on the ice. Spock was only wearing sleeveless under-armor and what looked suspiciously like yoga pants- so, for the first time, Jim was afforded a prime view of Spock’s anatomy.
While Jim knew vaguely what to expect, as most hockey players had very similar builds, he was still surprised by Spock’s muscle tone. His shoulders seemed impossibly broad, perfectly molded deltoids tapered into sinewy triceps and defined pectorals. Beneath the under-armor Jim could faintly see the outline of soft-toned abdominal muscles and the ropey muscles along Spock’s flank, protecting his ribs.
Regrettably, Jim dragged his eyes back upward. Spock quirked an eyebrow at him as he turned to grab his gear bag. This, of course, gave Jim a great look at some of his favorite muscles groups, starting with toned trapezuis muscles that rippled down Spock’s broad back. Jim couldn’t help but drool slightly as Spock’s shirt rode up slightly, revealing two dimples on his lower back-Jim had the nearly uncontrollable urge to lightly dig his thumbs in. It was an odd fantasy, but Jim didn’t have time to dwell on this, as Spock bent slightly at the hips in order to grab his bag, which brought attention to Jim’s favorite part of the human body.
For a man, Jim couldn’t help but think, Spock had a very voluptuous ass. Every other part of him was all harsh angles and straight lines, but his posterior was all dangerously enticing curves, expertly encased by tight-fitting yoga pants and perfectly mounted above lean legs that went on forever. Jim could have sworn he had died and gone to heaven as Spock’s glutial muscles flexed slightly as he stood and slung his bag over his shoulder. Jim quickly adverted his gaze as Spock turned to face him again, lest he be caught staring.
“I am ready to depart,” Spock said to Jim, who nodded in return.
“Alright, the let’s blow this Popsicle stand,” Jim replied, grin tugging at his lips.
“Jim, I confess I am confused. I do not see a kiosk offering frozen juice treats anywhere in the vicinity of the hotel. Nor do I wish to ‘blow’ one if it were within range.”
Jim couldn’t help but burst into a fit of bright laughter. “You’re a funny guy, Spock. It’s a human idiom meaning ‘Let’s get out of here.’ I was merely suggesting we leave.” Spock quirked an eyebrow at Jim as Jim headed towards the door.
“Fascinating.” Spock pulled the door shut behind him and his companion. “Do you use idioms often?” Jim shifted the strap of his duffel bag awkwardly.
“I guess, most humans do. Why, did your mother not use idioms when she spoke?” Jim opened the door and shoved his bag in the backseat and as he reached for Spock’s, he couldn’t help but noticed the slight straightening of Spock’s posture.
“How do you know my mother is human?” Spock asked stiffly. Jim frowned slightly at Spock’s tone.
“Spock, you are one of the best hockey players in the League-your stats and heritage is well known to anyone who knows how to use the Nets.” Jim huffed slightly and hauled the duffel bag off of Spock’s shoulder and into his car.
“Oh. I apologize for my discourteous behavior, Jim, but my heritage is often a source of ridicule.” Jim clapped Spock on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it, Spock. I know how it is.” Jim rounded the car and slid effortlessly into the driver’s seat. The same could not be said for Spock. Jim stifled a laugh as Spock folded himself into the passenger’s seat. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the weird turn of events. Even he had to admit that the prospect of being friends with Spock was much more enticing than the prospect of getting punched in the face by Spock.
~~
When they arrived at the small local gym, Jim handed over his credit chip and after a bit of a struggle, Jim paid for both himself and Spock.
As they started their warm ups, Jim’s psyche decided that he deserved to be tortured, and he stupidly blurted out,
“So, when I was waiting for you to get changed I noticed you have a yoga mat. Do you do yoga?”
“Affirmative,” Spock replied, stretching his rotator cuff lightly.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been able to practice, what with the busy practice schedule and all. Do you wanna do some yoga?” Jim asked hopefully.
Spock arched his back as he raised his arms above his head, interlaced his fingers, and slowly brought his arms down, behind his back, stretching out his shoulders. Jim couldn’t help but stare as Spock’s shirt rode up, and his pants slid down his hips a little, revealing taut abdominal muscles and the thick, dark hair leading from his navel into the unknown recesses of his yoga pants. Happy trail, indeed.
“I would not be averse to practicing. I was unaware you practiced yoga, Jim.”
“Yeah, Bones, my physician, recommended it to improve my flexibility. I hated it at first, but it really helped, so I kept going. I’m pretty advanced now.”
With that, they fell into silence as they settled into the beginning poses and breathing exercises. Slowly, they made their way through the easy and simple poses, and graduated to the more difficult poses until they had moved up to the arm-lift poses like Mayurasana (or peacock pose) and Tittibhasana (or, the firefly pose). Jim could feel sweat dripping trails down his brow and down his back, and his arms ached heavily from the weight pressing down upon them.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jim looked over at Spock, whose suspended legs didn’t even quiver. The only indication that this was any challenge for him was the slightly sweat dampened hair at the back of his neck, and the light green flushing his cheeks. Jim thought this unfair, as he was sweating like a pig, and his muscles quivered slightly as he struggled to keep his breathing calm and level.
After what felt like an eternity, but was in all reality a mere thirty seconds, Jim and Spock released their pose and slipped into Downward-Facing Dog. As they descended into the final relaxation poses, Jim couldn’t help but feel invigorated. It had been so long since he had practiced he’d forgotten how serene he felt, despite the intense physical exertion yoga required. And it had been so long since Jim had practiced with another person with similar physical demands, that having Spock beside him-calm and motionless like a marble statue-really pushed Jim to embrace calmness as opposed to the high energy he usually associated with a work out. As they relaxed in Corpse Pose, Jim broke the silence.
“That was extremely enjoyable,” he said as he exhaled deeply.
“I agree.”
Jim had not expected Spock to reply, Corpse Pose was typically devoted to silent meditation, and knowing Vulcan’s devotion to mediation, Jim hadn’t expected Spock to break his meditative cycle in favor of conversation. However, Spock was exceptionally good at surprising Jim.
“I think it’s time for some running or weight-lifting or something now that we’re warmed-up.” Jim eased himself up off the floor mats, and sighed happily as he felt his muscles ache slightly from the exertion. Spock also rose and turned to look at Jim, eyebrow cocked.
“You never cease to amaze me with your boundless energy, Jim. We have just spent two hours practicing yoga, at a master level which involves intense physical exertion, and yet you still have a remarkable amount of energy. It is truly fascinating.”
Jim felt his smile stretch wider. “Gee, if I didn’t know any better Mr. Spock, I could almost swear that you were complimenting my stamina.”
“A compliment is a human device, a vehicle for pointless flattery. I am merely stating how intriguing it is that you seem impervious to exhaustion.” Jim rolled his eyes as he and Spock walked over to the row of treadmills lined up along a row of windows. As they stepped on the treadmills, chose their pace and started their runs, they both looked out at the bleak landscape.
“Not much of a view, is it?” Jim asked, starting with a light jog. Just beyond the windows laid the parking lot, drab and grey. Beyond the parking lot lay the main road, and several shops-all unremarkable, old fashioned brick buildings- and other than the odd customer here and there, not much transpired beyond the windows.
“I agree, the view is not very satisfactory,” Spock replied, his stride a little faster than Jim’s.
While life beyond the windows was boring, Jim fell into an easy stride with Spock. Jim had never thought that anything would come easy with Spock, but the camaraderie between them seemed natural. Jim had always felt the need to fill the silences and to be seen but, with Spock, Jim finally felt comfortable with the silence.
He knew Spock saw him. It was as if Jim was a spark and Spock was gasoline, and when they had first come together it had been explosive; every ounce, burning aggression. But the flames quickly fizzled out, leaving nothing but slight scorch marks remaining to speak of the violence that had transpired. All that was left of the fire that had raged in Jim when he punched Spock, was a warm burn that settled in the pit of his stomach.
Jim wasn’t sure if this was good, bad, healthy or unhealthy-but when he thought about punching Spock, and the look in his eye as Jim landed the first hit, Jim couldn’t help but feel proud at the pure look of shock as Spock finally saw the real Jim Kirk for the first time. Spock had been forced to look past what he thought of James Tiberius Kirk, and been able to see the real Jim .
It has been said that nothing reveals a man’s character better than violence. In their fist fight, both Jim and Spock had received the briefest glimpse of each other.
Jim couldn’t say what he’d seen in Spock that day, and by the careful manner Spock tread around him, Jim figured that Spock felt the same. But as they fell into step beside each other, the rhythm of their strides so naturally in-tune, Jim inherently knew that whatever had been set in motion between them, wasn’t stopping any time soon.
~~
Jim and Spock finally left the gym when their muscles, weary from hours of intense activity, ached and throbbed. Despite the pain radiating from Jim’s overworked muscles, Jim felt upbeat. Upbeat and hungry, apparently, as his stomach let loose a loud roar. As they hauled their gear out to Jim’s car, Jim dug out his cell phone.
“I’m starving. Do you like pizza, Spock?” Jim asked, entering in his co-ordinates into the GPS and waiting for it to find a pizza place nearby.
“I am familiar with the concept of pizza, although I have never ingested it,” Spock replied, wearily stuffing their gear into Jim’s small car. Jim paused and looked at Spock with an expression on his face caught between appalled and shocked.
“Wait. You mean to tell me, you have never eaten pizza.”
“I believe that is what I said,” Spock replied blankly. Jim caught him suppressing a wince as he wedged himself into the car.
“There is no way you’ve never eaten pizza. We must feed you some pizza. I do not understand how you have survived this long without eating pizza. Pizza is a gift from the heavens. It will blow your mind. We’ll get like a meat-lovers with extra sausage and onions-“
“Jim-“
“And mushrooms and peppers-“
“Jim-“
“Oh god, and bacon, how did I forget bacon-“
“Jim.” Jim immediately shuddered to a halt at the sound of Spock’s raised voice. Even at the peak of their arguments, Spock had never raised his voice. Jim looked at Spock, who quietly said “I am a vegetarian.”
“You’re a vegetarian?”
Spock pinched the bridge of his nose and suppressed a sigh.
“That is what I said.”
“So that’s a no to extra sausage and bacon,” Jim said flatly.
“No bacon, sausage or meat products of any kind, no.”
“Well, that’s a bummer. But I’ve gone veggie before, I suppose I can do it again.” Finally Jim’s phone had finished calculating the options and Jim selected the pizza place closest to the hotel. “Yeah, I’d like to place a delivery order-“
“Jim, if you wish to imbibe in meat products, you may do so, I do not wish to inconvenience you-“
Jim quickly put his hand over the receiver.
“Spock, don’t worry about it. It’s one meal, I won’t die if I have one meal without meat.” Jim returned to the call, relayed his order and the hotel’s address. When the call ended, Jim stuck his phone in his cup holder and started the car. As Jim pulled out of the parking lot, Spock turned to him again.
“Jim, earlier you stated you had ‘Gone Veggie Before’, what exactly did you mean by that statement?”
Jim stifled a giggle at hearing Spock say the word ‘veggie’.
“Uh, when I first found out I was invited to the preliminary training camp, I spent all summer training, so I could be good enough to make the team. In order to get rid of some small pockets of fat, I needed to augment my diet, and Bones suggested the best way to drop the fat fast was to get rid of meat. So, for the entire summer before the preliminaries, I was meatless.”
“Jim you continue to astound me with your dedication.”
At first, Jim thought Spock was trying to employ sarcasm, but when he turned to look at him briefly, Jim knew Spock was genuine. Jim squirmed a little under Spock’s awed gaze, unused to the reverent attention from Spock.
“Thanks. I mean it’s really no big deal.” Jim shrugged, but Spock was still looking at him oddly and Jim couldn’t help but shift awkwardly in his seat and reach for the radio.
~~
Of all the things Sulu could have guessed he would see upon entering the hotel room, Jim and Spock sitting cross-legged on Jim’s bed, eating pizza, talking animatedly and not beating each other senseless was not one of the scenario’s he’d imagined.
“I mean come on, Spock, it was a valid goal. Anyone with two eyes and a basic knowledge of hockey can tell you that-“
“I am sorry, Jim, but as the official ruling states, it was not a valid goal.”
“You have got to be kidding me. It went in, they at least should have at least reviewed it. I mean, it had already passed the goal line when Khabibulin grabbed it. Valid goal!”
Sulu cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling slightly intrusive. Jim and Spock quickly turned to him.
“Oh hey, Sulu. ‘Sup?”
“Hey, um. Not much? Hey Spock, how’s it hanging?”
Spock looked confused for a minute and turned to Jim.
“It’s an idiom. Sulu’s asking how you’re doing.”
“I see. I am doing well. Thank you, Hikaru.”
Sulu looked around looking for any temporal anomalies that would indicate he was, in fact, in the Twilight Zone. Jim grinned at the confused look on his roommate's face.
“Dude, no, you are not in the Twilight Zone right now. It’s a long story. Wanna piece of pizza?” Sulu shrugged and took this as an explanation and joined Spock and Jim for pizza. “How was practice?”
“Good. The new guy, Scotty, is a freaking genius on ice. Like seriously, it’s the freaking ice-capades out there, man.”
“Hold on, we signed Montgomery Scott? I thought he was Canadian?”
“Nah, dude, he lived in the Yukon province in Canada, but he’s not Canadian. I guess his parents immigrated to the U.S. or something. I don’t really know-all I know is that he’s one crazy dude. I’m sure you’ll get along great.”
“Are you calling me crazy? I am hurt Sulu-wounded even,” Jim replied, mock sadness in his voice as he placed a hand dramatically over his heart and Spock quirked an eyebrow comically at Jim’s antics.
“Dude, you punched our Vulcan Captain in the face. I’m pretty sure you are the definition of crazy.” Sulu replied, reaching for his second piece of pizza.
“Okay, so I’m maybe a little crazy. But only a little bit. Hey, Spock-any word on that Russian kid yet, what was his name? Cherov, Cherpov-“
“Pavel Andreovich Chekov. I believe Number One is attempting to integrate him into the team now that his U.S Citizenship has been finalized. The team physician has stated that Gary Mitchell will be unable to goal-tend for the rest of the season, at best,”
Sulu piped in quickly. “What I don’t understand is-why are we pursuing another goalie? I mean, we have our back-up goalie. Gaila is solid. Plus, why isn’t Chekov playing for Mother Russia? I mean, the kid’s Russian.”
“Regulations state we are required two goal-tenders and Pavel is one of the best this world has to offer. As for his Russian heritage, that hardly seems relevant to his spot on the team.”
Sulu looked at Spock with disbelief.
“Come on, Spock, isn’t it a conflict of interest? Aren’t we slated to play Russia during the tournament?”
“We are, but if Pavel held some allegiance towards his home country, he would no doubt be goal-tending for the Russian team. Instead, he has chosen to play for our team. Is his alliance not obvious, Hikaru?”
Sulu was silent in response; Jim couldn’t help but grin at the verbal pummeling his friend had received. It was nice not being on the receiving end of Spock’s ruthless Vulcan logic for a change, and while Sulu had a valid point, Spock was right. If Chekov had some sort of allegiance to his home country, he would be playing for them. Jim had seen the kid’s stats-every country was clambering for a kid as promising as the tiny Russian. The kid was only fifteen and he was out-playing some seasoned NHL goalies, stat-wise.
Jim was excited at the possibility of working with another young, talented player. It was really surreal for him when he really stopped to think about it.
Here he was, a small town farm boy who had worked his ass off, on the ice, for six years, and ended up representing his country in the IIHF World Juniors 2250, with the world’s best players under 20. There were days when Jim woke up feeling like he was on some cheesy after school special, and he was having a hard time believing that this really was his life, now. But he tried not to dwell on it, and jumped back into the conversation Spock and Sulu were having about the recent additions to the team.
~~
Like yesterday, Jim spent the last day of his suspension with Spock, contorted and flexed at the gym, practicing yoga. When they returned to their hotel with a pleasant ache residing in their strained muscles, Jim couldn’t feel anything other than contentment as he parted ways with Spock and headed to his room for a hot shower. However, he groaned slightly, when he was greeted by the form of Bones standing at his door, med-kit in hand.
“It’s about damned time! I’ve been banging on your door for the last ten minutes. I thought you’d re-broken your nose in your sleep and choked on your own blood,” Bones said gruffly, and Jim couldn’t help but dead-pan at his friend’s antics. “Well, are you going to let me in, or keep staring at me like a damned fool?” Jim rolled his eyes and pushed past Bones, unlocked the door and motioned for him to enter the hotel room. “Sit down and let me get a good look at your face.”
Jim did as he was told as Bones dug out a small pen light, slid some medical gloves on and scanned Jim’s face, prodding sporadically.
“Well, the swelling in your nose has gone down substantially. It’s gonna take a couple weeks before it really starts healing. So be careful about taking anymore hits to the face, for at least the next month. I’m taking the butterflies off, your split lip has scabbed over well and there’s no signs of infection. How’s your hand and wrist feeling?”
“It’s alright, I don’t think I cracked anything. I was able to do Mayurasana and Tittibhasana without any sharp or unusual pains.” Bones looked at him blankly.
“You were doing yoga?”
“Yeah, I found a local gym and Spock practiced with me-“
“Wait, wait wait-“ Bones replied sharply as he changed the bandages on Jim’s left hand. “You were out practicing yoga with the guy who broke your nose not three days ago. That’s crazy, even for you, Jim.”
“Look,” Jim sighed and ran his right hand through his sweaty hair. “I know it’s weird, but Spock and I came to a truce, I guess. I figured that the best way to extend the olive branch was to train with the guy. Spock happens to do yoga, and you’re always telling me to work on my flexibility-so we practiced.”
Now that Jim finally heard it all explained out loud, it seemed really asinine to him. With the look Bones was fixing him with, apparently he thought so, too.
Jim felt himself get a little nervous. It was always unnerving to have Bones stare at him like that. It was like he knew that deep down Jim was bullshitting himself and that the real reason Jim asked Spock to do yoga with him had nothing to do with extending the proverbial olive branch. If Bones knew anything, he didn’t say so. He merely finished bandaging Jim’s hand and concluded the brief check-up.
“Alright, I’m clearing you for duty. As much as I would like to keep you off the ice for a little while longer, to give your nose more time to heal, I know that with the first round only a couple weeks away they need you on the ice. So, you’re all clear,” Bones said to Jim as he packed up his small medical kit. “Just remember, no more hits to the face, or you’re gonna have to live life with a perpetually crooked nose.”
“Don’t worry, Bones, the face shield attached to my helmet should keep my nose safe.”
Bones rolled his eyes. “It’s what happens after the helmet comes off I’m worried about. See ya later, Jim.”
“Bye, Bones.” Jim waved his friend off and closed the door behind him. With a deep sigh, Jim padded to the bathroom, looking forward to a long, hot shower.
~~
Startled awake, Jim rolled over and groped for his chronometer . Three A.M-what an ungodly time for someone to be pounding on his door.
In the next bed, Jim could hear Sulu’s snoring stutter to a stop, and the cursing begin. Hauling himself up out of bed and to the door, the last person he expected to see standing there was Spock-who looked off kilter; a look Jim was sure had nothing to do with the early hour.
“Spock? What’s going on-it’s Three A.M.”
“Jim, I must leave immediately, and I do not see my return in the imminent future,” Spock said hastily. His duffel was slung over his shoulder.
“Wait, wait, what? Spock, the tournament starts in three weeks! You can’t just leave-“
“Jim, I must leave. My…” Spock trailed off suddenly and Jim noticed Spock’s jaw clench and his brows furrow. There was a tightness around Spock’s eyes he’d never seen there before.
“Spock, what’s going on?” Jim asked, stepping out of his room, and pulling his door closed slightly behind him. If Jim hadn’t been laser-focused on Spock, he would have surely been embarrassed that he was standing in front of Spock in his Batman Boxers.
“My mother has taken ill. It is likely she…” Spock’s voice caught as he spoke. “May not recover. I must return home immediately and help care for her.”
Jim sucked in a harsh breath, running a hand through his hair.
“Shit. Um, okay Spock. You do what you need to do.”
Jim stood awkwardly in front of Spock, not knowing how to proceed in this kind of situation. Jim felt compelled to hug Spock, but their new friendship was still precarious, so Jim hesitated. But looking up at Spock’s lost expression, Jim threw caution to the wind and carefully wrapped his arms around Spock.
He felt Spock stiffen against him, but after a moment he sagged against Jim slightly. After what felt like a small eternity, Spock extricated himself from Jim, and straightened.
“I have already notified the General Manager and Number One, and I requested that in my absence you be named Team Captain.”
Jim’s eyes widened comically as Spock said this, and Jim got the sudden urge to haul Spock’s face down to his and kiss him. Jim felt like dirt for judging Spock so harshly in the days previous. Spock’s mother had taken ill, not likely to live and he had taken the time to tell the General Manager and Head Coach that Jim should take his place as Captain. Jim felt something in his chest tighten.
“Spock, I don’t know what to say.”
“You do not need to say anything, Jim. You will make a good Team Captain.” Jim would have smiled if circumstances had been different
“I’m sorry about your mom, Spock.”
Jim didn’t know what else he could verbally say to Spock so, utilizing Vulcan touch-telepathy, he lightly pressed his fingers against the back of Spock’s hand doing his best to convey what words failed to. Spock had once said to Jim that touching hands was an intimate gesture to Vulcans and Jim thought vaguely that a gesture like this was probably inappropriate, but Jim felt no other gesture would be appropriate.
“Thank you, Jim.” Spock said, his quiet voice hoarse around the edges. With that, Spock pulled away and left-for how long, Jim wasn’t sure. All he really knew was that in four days Spock had become an entirely new person to him, and Jim wasn’t sure he knew how to deal with the person Spock was to him now.
~~
After Spock had departed, Jim had found himself unable to find a restful sleep, and this frustrated him to no end. He had practice bright and early in the morning and he needed to show the GM and Number One he was worthy of the title of Team Captain-but his concern for Spock was making him restless and anxious.
For so long, Jim had focused on no one but himself, that the intensity of his feelings towards Spock derailed him. It brought back painful memories of his brother leaving Jim behind, and of his Uncle awkwardly hugging his mother as she cried, and the tightness in his chest was overwhelming. He tossed and turned for another few hours before he succumbed to exhaustion, and slept.
~~
Convincing the General Manager had been easy. On the other hand, convincing Number One that he could be an exceptional Team Captain was the difficult part. However, in the end, the team flourished under Jim’s guidance and they were playing better than ever before. This was enough to convince Number One.
Jim was ecstatic, and he finally felt like he had truly found his niche, but he still felt the weight of the empty space at his side where Spock had once been. He’d had little time to deal with Spock’s absence before a replacement was brought in-surprisingly enough, from the women’s junior team.
At the turn of the twenty second century, the regulations of the World Juniors had changed, allowing women to compete in the International Ice Hockey Federation tournament, which had opened the doors to a previously untapped market of great talent and dexterity on ice.
The firecracker named Uhura, who was temporarily replacing Spock as the first line right winger, was proof of that. She had an advantage that the men did not have; due to her smaller build, she was able to slide along the ice, easily evading and out-skating the bigger, bulkier players.
However, despite her small stature, Uhura was easily categorized as one of the big dogs. Completely unafraid, she would fearlessly take hits, body-check, trash-talk and throw the gauntlet down with players that lumbered over her. She quickly gained a reputation as the fire on the ice-and if Jim didn’t want to live his life with a perpetually crooked nose, he would have no doubt tried to goad her into punching him. Which she no doubt would have.
With all of the last minute injuries and changes to the roster, the American team wasn’t expected to make it past the first round against Switzerland. But they took everyone by surprise when they stormed the ice and conquered the dumbfounded Swiss team, their first game. The game which had taken place in Detroit, the home of the Red Wings, had gotten the apathetic crowd-already conceding defeat-to their feet screaming and cheering for their life, as Jim and the rest of the team effortlessly dominated the ice, scoring two goals in the first period and winning the game with a score of 4-0.
But it wasn’t just the action in front of the net that was amazing, but the astounding saves made by the youngest team member, Pavel Andreovich Chekov. He caught, grabbed, deflected, and smothered every shot with tenacity and ease that rivaled the legendary Finnish goal-tender, Miikka Kiprusoff-which was truly remarkable for a boy of fifteen.
With their win came the tangible excitement and pride, the likes of which none of the young players had felt before; and it only served to motivate them to play even harder and come out from their underdog status as real contenders.
Game after game, the enterprising young team consistently defied the odds and won the first round against Switzerland, four games to one. When they had won their final game of the round, Jim couldn’t help but wish Spock was with them, celebrating.
Jim and all the first line had gathered in his hotel room and were watching the highlights of the game, when the news break came on and Jim felt his stomach drop.
“Sadly, the wife of the Vulcan Ambassador passed away this morning. Amanda Grayson, the former head of Federation Public Relations passed away from leukemia in her Montreal home, early this morning. Her husband, Sarek of Vulcan, made a statement this morning, with his son Spock beside him. Now, you may recognize Spock as one of the star players representing the U.S Team in the IIHF World Juniors, three years in a row. It is unclear about whether or not Spock will return to the team for the next round, but it is highly unlikely…” The laughter and joviality in the room was suddenly gone as everyone watched as Spock stood stony and silent beside his father as his father made a statement to the press.
“Oh god, poor Spock,” Uhura said quietly, a hand at her mouth and tears welling in her eyes. As Jim watched Spock, he was suddenly glad the next round was taking place in Montreal. He wanted to find Spock and do as much as he could for him. Jim had no idea what he could really do for Spock, but that wasn’t going to stop him.
Jim looked around the hotel at his teammates and addressed them quietly.
“Okay guys, go get some sleep. We have a long day of traveling tomorrow. I’ll see you guys in the parking lot at Seven A.M. ”
Jim grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. His teammates quickly left-everyone except Sulu, who paused and looked over at Jim sitting on the bed with his head in his hands.
“Jim?”
Jim jumped, clearly startled.
“Yeah?”
“You okay, man?” Sulu asked, taking a small step towards Jim.
“Yeah, just tired. Long week,” Jim replied, a weak smile pulling at his lips.
Sulu nodded and moved to leave but he paused again.
“Hey, Jim, it was Spock who showed up at Three A.M. a couple weeks ago, wasn’t it?”
Jim nodded quietly.
“Yeah, it was him.”
“What did he say to you?”
“He told me his mom was dying and he needed to leave,” He said with a sigh, looking blankly at Sulu.
“Shit. Do you think we should go see him and pay respects or something?”
“No, I don’t. He’s getting swamped by the press right now. I think the team going over there is a bad idea. Plus, he’s Vulcan and this is an emotional time. Everyone swarming him will only make it worse.”
Which is why I’m going over there by myself, Jim thought.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right”
“Goodnight, Sulu.”
“Night, Jim.”
After Sulu had left, Jim flopped back down onto his bed. He grabbed his personal PADD and looked up Spock’s address.
~~
When they arrived in Montreal, the whole team was relieved that they were able to spend a week sightseeing in one of the most beautiful cities in Canada. Jim was just glad he could finally see Spock.
After a brief rendezvous at the hotel, Jim returned to his hover car-which in all honesty, he was surprised had lasted the trip from Colorado to Detroit and now to Montreal-opened up the GPS on his PADD, and headed towards Spock’s house. Had Jim been any less focused on finding Spock, he would have felt slightly intimidated by the increasingly large, sprawling estates. After meandering slowly around the neighborhood, the GPS signaled Jim to pull into the gated driveway just ahead of him.
As Jim pulled up to the intercom he panicked briefly; what was he going to say? I‘m a friend/teammates of Spock’s and I’m worried about him-so, yeah, let me in?
And for that matter, who was Jim? Was he Spock’s friend? Just days before Spock’s abrupt departure, Jim had punched him in the face. Then they’d come to a truce-found a rapport that Jim hadn’t believed he could find with Spock. But that didn’t change the fact that, during the majority of their time together, Jim and Spock had disliked each other and had been on the cusp of violence. Jim put his head on the steering wheel, trying to sort through all the confusion, to find the right answer. Suddenly, it occurred to Jim, most gated houses had security cameras fixed on the gates. Jim groaned and smacked his head against the steering wheel in frustration. There was no point in leaving now-someone had seen him. If he just left it would look suspicious, so Jim steeled all his courage, rolled down his window and leaned out to press the button.
A cold baritone voice crackled to life from the intercom “If you are a member of the press, I ask you to leave the premises promptly and cease your intrusions-“
“What? No! I’m not with the press. I’m a teammate and…friend of Spock’s, and I was coming to see how he is,” Jim said lamely.
There was a brief pause,
“My son is as he should be.”
Jim rolled his eyes at the cryptic response. “I know this is a hard time, but would I be able to see him?”
Another pause,
“I do not believe that is wise-”
“Father, who is at the front gate?” Jim jumped slightly at Spock’s voice.
“Spock!”
“Jim? What are you doing here?” Spock asked.
“The next round is being played in Montreal and I heard about your Mom, so I came to see you as soon as I got here.”
There was a long pause and Jim began to think Spock had fled, but just as Jim was about to pull away and leave Spock with his grief, the gates eased open. Jim sighed in relief and pulled up the driveway towards the expansive house.
Now that Jim was standing in front of the largest house he had ever seen, he quickly became self-conscious, standing there in his beat up jeans, white t-shirt, and scuffed converse runners. He had no time to dwell on himself though-as the door opened to reveal Spock standing there, looking weary; unlike Jim had ever seen him. A sad smile spread across Jim’s face as he looked at Spock.
“Hey, Spock. I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Thank you, Jim, your condolences are appreciated.” They both stood there for a minute, unsure of how to proceed. “Would you like to come in?”
“Sure.”
As Jim entered, he was astounded at the sheer vastness of the house. The ceilings were vaulted and riddled with beautiful skylights. Jim remembered Vulcan architecture from his studies and Spock’s house clearly emulated it. As Spock led Jim through the house, presumably to his room, Jim couldn’t help but notice bare spots on the wall where pictures had once been.
His heart squeezed painfully, reminding him of his own mother taking down the pictures of Sam and hiding the photo album filled with pictures of his dad.
He knew this side of grief well; it was the stage nobody told you about. I was a time when you hid from the good memories, when you hid from anything that brought you back to the reality that you had lost someone. A time when you hid yourself from every feeling you had felt before. It was safer and easier to hide from our life than it was to live it and confront your grief.
Jim knew that it would be especially hard for Spock to move past this, being part of a race that suppressed all emotion in favor of unwavering logic. Confronting his grief to overcome it would require Spock to face emotions that would be taboo for a Vulcan.
When they reached Spock’s room, Jim noted a picture placed face-down on the nightstand. Again, Jim was struck with the urge to reach out and touch Spock’s hand. Jim knew that if he were to turn that picture face up again that he would see a picture of Spock and his Mom. He knew, because he had done the same thing when Sam had died. When he had returned to his room after the endless hours of hospitals, police questions and psychoanalysis, he had slammed the picture of him and Sam down so hard the glass had cracked. Jim wondered if the glass in Spock’s frame was cracked too.
It took a moment for Jim to realize they were just standing in Spock’s room, silent; Spock staring at Jim and Jim staring at Spock’s picture.
“Everyone on the team wanted me to tell you they’re all thinking about you, and they’re sorry about your mom,” Jim said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck absently.
Why am I here?
“Tell them their thoughts and condolences are appreciated,” Spock said evenly, looking as awkward as Jim felt.
“We ended up pulling this chick, Nyota Uhura, from the woman’s team to fill the empty spot on the team, for now.”
Spock’s eyebrows flicked up briefly.
“What are you implying Jim?” Spock asked, his tone darkening.
“I’m not implying anything. I’m just saying that while you’re gone she’s filling in for you. But she knows it’s only a temporary gig, when you decide to come back-“
“Jim, I am not returning to the team-or professional hockey, for that matter.”
“Wait, what?” Jim felt hit by a ton of bricks. “What do you mean you won’t be returning to hockey?”
“I meant what I said, Jim. I will not be returning to the team, or professional hockey. It is time to put childish things away and accept my responsibilities as a man. After my mother’s funeral, I will be returning to Vulcan and re-submitting my application to the Vulcan Science Academy.”
“Leave childhood things behind? What kind of after school special crap is that? Spock, I know you. You’re built for the ice, you are one of the best players I’ve ever seen-“
“While I admire your praise, Jim, it does not change the fact that it is time I left hockey and accept my responsibilities-“
“What responsibilities, Spock? Are you telling me that you’re giving up something you love-to what? Go to the Vulcan Science Academy and be like all of the other Vulcans? Newsflash Spock, you aren’t like the other Vulcans!”
“Jim. That is enough-“
“No, it isn’t. Why are you doing this? When were you going to tell me this?”
“Jim, I do not owe you an explanation, and I would appreciate it if you showed yourself out.”
“No.” Jim took a step towards Spock, the air between them snapping taut, the tension suffocating as Jim stepped into Spock’s personal space. “What is it Spock-why are you doing this? Now that your mom’s gone, is everyone looking at you differently? All the eyes on you, expecting an emotional outburst, too much pressure-“
“Your presumption that these experiences somehow interfere with my abilities to play hockey-“
“Then what is it? With your mom gone, your last shred of humanity needs to be buried with her-“
Spock’s voice trembled and turned volcanic “Step away from me-“
“No. If she knew you were throwing away your passion to be just another Vulcan scientist, she would be rolling over in her grave-“
Jim was cut off by a guttural roar from Spock, as Jim was shoved, sending him tumbling backwards, sprawling across Spock’s bed. Jim swung his legs out and landed a heavy kick on Spock’s hip, and Spock descended on him, pinning him beneath his weight. Jim flailed and struggled, grabbing Spock’s wrists and yanking them away from his throat where they were scrabbling for purchase.
Quickly, Spock shuddered and went still, his chest heaving from exertion. Jim stilled slowly, loosening his grip on Spock’s wrists, easing them upward and slowly intertwining their fingers. Spock’s breath hitched again and he looked Jim in the eye. Jim looked back, seeing all the things in Spock’s face he had once felt made him look like a lost puppy…a hulking, heaving, grief-stricken puppy.
In an unusually tender gesture, Jim extricated one of his hands from Spock’s grip and placed it on his face. Spock jerked away from Jim’s hand.
“Jim, I cannot…” After a moment, like snapping from a daze, Spock jerked away from Jim and up off the bed. They stared at each other, not knowing how to proceed. “I think…it would be best if you leave.”
Jim nodded and sat up.
“Yeah. “ He stood and straightened his clothes. Casting one more look at Spock who-for the first time since Jim met him-looked ruffled and disheveled, as he made to leave. He stopped in the doorway.
“Spock, you are not like other Vulcans. Please-” Jim tried to keep the edge of desperation out of his voice. “Don’t try to be.”
With that, Jim quickly strode out and down the hallway, past the places where pictures once hung, down the stairs and out of the house. Jim did his best to ignore his erratic heartbeat as he threw himself into his hover car. As he rolled the engine over and peeled out of the driveway, he nearly rammed into the gate as he struggled with his seatbelt. He reached out his car window and pressed the button requesting the gates to be opened. Once the gates opened, Jim stepped on the gas and thundered out of suburban Montreal.
He desperately fumbled with his radio, trying to find something so he wouldn’t have to be alone with his thoughts. As he descended back into urban Montreal, Jim was thankful he had the next week free to bury the disastrous meeting under a mountain of training and sight-seeing.
~~
After three days, sight-seeing had lost its luster. After two more days, slipping in and out of yoga studios, rarely spending more than an hour in each, also grew old. No matter what style of yoga or what group of people Jim practiced with, nothing felt right. No matter how he contorted, Jim felt something missing.
There was no silent challenge, no one beside him that could marshal, without words, into the next pose, urging his muscles to shifting into place perfectly. After an hour of unfocused, unsatisfying practice, Jim left the studio and headed towards the nearest gym.
As Jim started the treadmill, he remembered looking out at the dismal Colorado landscape of parking lots and empty shops. He was quickly reminded that this time, Spock was not beside him, falling into step with him. Abruptly, he jumped off the treadmill. It seemed as if Spock was destined to plague Jim, haunt him like the ghost of the three days Jim had felt seen.
Jim shook himself out and sighed angrily, stalking off back towards his hotel. He was determined to cloister himself in his room and read until the day he could step foot on the ice and find home beneath his skates.
As he turned down the final corridor, Jim’s heart stopped in his chest. The world tilted off its axis-and like Dorothy seeing color for the first time in Oz-there stood Spock, in front of his door with his gear bag at his feet. It was hard to resist the urge to run down the hallway to Spock, slamming into him and sending them both crashing to the floor in a graceless tangle of legs and arms, and all of the jumbled up things Jim felt. But in the end, Jim settled for briskly walking towards the tall Vulcan obstructing his doorway.
“Spock…” Jim was starting to become irritated with the way Spock always took the words out of his mouth at these important moments.
Spock turned and looked at Jim-and Jim saw that spark in Spock’s eyes. The same spark he had had when he had broken Jim’s nose. A chill skittered down Jim’s spine at the notion of Spock making him see stars again, and Jim wondered if he should be preparing himself for a tactical assault.
“You are the most infuriating human I have ever met. And I have met many.”
Jim instantly deflated and scrunched his face indignantly.
“You came all the way down here to tell me that? Spock, I already know that-“
“I am not finished, Jim. You are the most infuriating human I have ever met. You do not know the meaning of the word ‘enough’ and you are a constant grating on my senses-“
“Why gee, Spock, I didn’t know you felt that way-“ Jim drawled sarcastically.
“Silence. You are constantly pushing me, pulling me and trying my patience… But these are not always unfortunate characteristics of yours, Jim.” Jim blinked, a little stunned by the sudden fondness in Spock’s voice. “It is these qualities that make you a truly great Captain, and it is these qualities I admire most about you. In the last few months, interacting with you has truly brought out the humanity in me…and this is not a bad thing. You are right, Jim. I am not like other Vulcans, and so I will not try to be. I am a child of two worlds, but neither Earth nor Vulcan is home. You are, Jim. You are home.”
Jim released the breath he had been holding and let the smile unfurl across his face. As he looked up at Spock, Jim stopped fighting himself and crashed his lips to Spock’s. It was clumsy; Spock had to bow himself slightly to make up for the four inch height difference, and sloppy due to Jim’s frayed nerves-but it was the perfect rush to kick off what was about to unfold for them
~~
While Jim had longed to stay cloistered in his hotel room with Spock, eager to explore their brave new world, Spock’s infallible logic was once again his downfall. They needed to find Number One and discuss if it was within regulations to bring Spock back onto the team in the middle of the tournament.
After an unscheduled detour around the hotel while Jim tried to ‘find his bearings’-which Spock had come to know as a thinly veiled excuse Jim liked to use to assuage any doubts about the facts he was indeed lost-they finally ended up standing outside of Number One’s room. Jim couldn’t help but smile slightly as Number One looked at them through the open doorway with a mix of surprise and suspicion.
“Kirk, please tell me you haven’t done anything reckless.”
“Me, reckless? Never! Right Spock?” Jim elbowed Spock good-naturedly, and Spock merely quirked a brow at Jim. “I haven’t done anything, I promise. There is just some logistical stuff I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What kind of logistical stuff?”
“Like, whether or not it is within the rules for Spock to rejoin the team before the next round.” Number One sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Come inside. Now.” Jim and Spock entered, Jim looking like the cat who ate the canary. “A couple weeks ago you wanted nothing more than to beat each other to death on the ice. Now you would like me to find a way to circumvent the rule so we can have Spock placed back on the team two days before the second round?”
“Basically…yeah.” Jim was honestly aware of how bizarre this all sounded. It felt even more surreal. Number One sighed and turned to Spock,
“Are you sure you want to come back to the team? Your mother passed a week ago.”
“Yes. My mother was extremely vocal when it came to my decision to play hockey. It was what she wanted, and it is what I want.”
“Alright.” Number One walked to the oak desk by the window and grabbed the small paper-back manual sitting upon it. “This is the official rulebook. Not much has changed in the last couple centuries, aside from Gender and Xenobiological restrictions, so if there’s some loophole we can extort to get Spock back on the team we will find it in here.” After ten minutes of flipping, skimming and scanning they found all the ammunition they were going to need.
“So basically, because he was not formally discharged and did not have a set time limit on his absence, Spock can rejoin the team at anytime?”
“That is what it says in the rulebook.”
“But what about the number of players? Our roster is completely full now, with Uhura filling Spock’s position.”
“It appears Olsen has suffered a high-ankle sprain and will be out for the rest of the season, if not the whole year.”
“Wow. How did he do that?”
“Stumbling around Old Montreal like a drunken fool. There was talk about ejecting him from the tournament, but now with the sprain it is unnecessary. I will speak to Nyota and see if she would be willing to fill his position as defenseman .”
“Has she ever played that position before?”
“She has. I would not be concerned, Kirk. Changing her position is the least of our worries with all of the other line changes.”
“I suppose you’re right. Does this also mean he assumes the title of Team Captain as well?”
“Normally yes, but it was Spock’s request that you be named Team Captain, so I believe that the title should stay with you. Spock can petition for the role of Assistant Captain if he so chooses, as the slot is conveniently open.”
“In that case, Spock, you wanna be my Co-Captain?”
“It would be my honor, Jim.”
Number One looked over at Jim and Spock, who, not that long ago, had stood on the ice and battled each other until they drew blood, having to be pulled apart like unruly dogs. Now they stood close to each other, looking like impossibly old souls who had been reunited.
“I suppose it is settled, then. Welcome back to the team, Spock.” Number One nodded, and gave Spock the Vulcan salute Jim had seen many times, but been unable to master.
Spock returned the greeting.
“Thank you, I am glad to be back.”
“Good. Now, go practice at the rinks or something. Just don’t come back to me with anymore game-changers-all right, Kirk?”
Jim grinned and nodded.
“You got it Coach, let’s roll Spock!”
~~
It was early before the first game of the second round had started-too early for the rest of the team to be at the Arena. It was only Jim and Spock in the dressing room, sliding from their street clothes and into their under-armor, freely able to explore each other’s bodies so openly.
As Spock bent to retrieve his practice jersey from the bench where it sat, Jim was finally able to sidle up behind Spock and slide his thumbs into the perfect dimples and either side of his spine. Spock had raised a questioning brow at Jim’s maneuver, but Jim said nothing. He simply enjoyed the moment of standing there, enjoying his small personal victories.
Woefully, Jim slid his hands off Spock’s lower back so he could retrieve his and Spock’s skates. Sitting on the bench in the dressing room, lacing up their skates, a companionable silence fell over them, arms brushing ever so often as they began their routine of properly tightening their skates.
When their skates had finally been tightened and they stood to leave, Jim was again struck with Spock’s height. With the extra three inches added to his height from his skates-Spock was a towering six foot seven-and Jim began to wonder why he ever thought punching Spock was a good idea.
Jim smiled and pulled Spock down to kiss the faint sliver of green where Jim had split his lip. The tips of Spock’s ears tinged green and Jim cracked a grin leading Spock out of the dressing room towards the ice.
As Jim and Spock stood together that the precipice of the ice and looked out at the empty seats which would soon be filled with a roaring crowd, Jim indulged himself one last time. He touched his pointer and middle finger to Spock’s, a Vulcan gesture Spock had taught him that symbolized a kiss. With the tingling thrill of their Vulcan kiss running through him, Jim stepped on the ice and turned to Spock.
“Welcome home, Spock.”
~The End.~