FIC: Azimuth, Chapter Two-A
Title: Azimuth, Chapter Two-A
Author: rainbowstrlght
Rating: R
Word Count: 98,003
Warnings: Um, angst. There is a lot of it. Arguing/discord, body possession, vague talks of suicide/martyrdom.
Masterlist: Here
Chapter Two: It’s hard out here for a pimp time-traveling Human.
Okay, so-sleeping with Spock? Maybe not so grand.
I mean, it was nice to have some companionship in bed, all right. But I think I had a dog once that was about as cuddly as Spock-and by that I mean the dog had to be coaxed onto the bed with treats and held down in a neck hold.
No matter how much I envisaged spooning in my head, Spock never got the hint. Or ignored the hint.
“There are clothes in the head.”
Well, I guess it was too much to expect that I could steal one of Spock’s sweaters or something.
Progress, Self. Currently we are at the first base of sleeping together, lying side by side without touching. Maybe tonight we'll fucking brush forearms or something.
“Energize.”
But fuck this transporter so early in the morning. I should’ve had coffee in the mess, seriously.
“I do not believe such a beverage would help your predicament,” Spock says too smugly-and yes smugly Spock, smugly.
“I was merely stating a fact.”
I let my mouth echo that soundlessly, although I know he’ll see it in his head. “God, can we stop somewhere for coffee?”
We’re at the River House, which is customary for Spock and the crew. They may sleep on a starship, but they certainly can’t beam directly down to Riverside High. So they built this tall, gray, eco-friendly structure on the Mississippi, complete with a garage for their various fancy vehicles.
And by “fancy”, I mean Spock’s silver Volvo and Bones’ tree-killing monster truck; the latter already having the doors open for people to pile in.
Bones waves at the both of us, while Gaila smiles and rushes over, her grin about to break her face.
She makes a squeak as she hugs me, whispering excitedly in my ear, “You slept over!”
I roll my eyes-how did she even find out, anyway?-but I'm grateful that Spock gives us space by getting in his car.
“Not exactly how I thought it would go, but yeah.”
She pulls back with a coy smile. “You know Vulcans are prudish, right?”
I shrug. “Yeah, but we’re kind of mind-bonded or something.”
Gaila shakes her head-which, the red curls are still the same, but after a month of visiting the Enterprise it’s still weird to know there’s green skin under the pale mask. All thanks to the turquoise pendant around her neck, secretly shielding everything, while tucked into the curves of her v-neck sweater.
“It’s still a big deal to invite you into his room.” She elbows me with a smirk. “Progress, Jim.”
Yeah, fine. It definitely was. If you gave me the option again, I’d take lying chastely with Spock over sleeping alone, that’s for sure.
I give her a quiet smile, and that seems good enough for her to move off with a wave. “See you later!”
We likely would. Out of all the people that would be a part of my new future, Gaila had been one of those making an immense effort. We’d sometimes meet on the Enterprise for exploration, with her enthusiasm to teach me infectious.
I wave back, already heading to Spock’s pretentious car-God did I miss Gary in these moments. Gary with his cab high in the air, as opposed to my ass feeling too close to the ground in this stupid, shiny Volvo.
“This vehicle is more energy-efficient.”
“This vehicle is more-"
Spock clamps a hand over my mouth, not even looking at me as he backs out of the long driveway.
Ass.
“Your attitude is quite peculiar today.”
Don’t I know what that means.
I lick his palm, muffling, “Your attitude-“
The car stops abruptly as Spock whips his hand away and jerks his face in my direction, his brown eyes wide and staring openly with shock.
My lips still feel wet from where they touched his palm, and I lick my mouth-all the while trying to process his expression.
Which, yeah, I guess I had never licked him before. And his skin was kind of dry and musky and-
Oh. Oh damn. That's... kind of a sensitive place for Vulcans.
Spock straightens his spine and stiffens-and perhaps that’s a double-entendre.
“Sorry,” I mutter. Because while I’d like to move from lying chastely with Spock to some sinning, I’d also want Spock to kind of enjoy it.
I feel a lot of prickling from his end. There’s a sense of frustration that it’s difficult to erect his emotional barriers, the ones that would block all his feelings of discomfort and worry.
Worry? About what? I guess it’s like being caught with your pants down-or naked in the bathroom. Except I can’t just close the door and beat an embarrassed and hasty retreat.
I try my most sincere apologies in my head, because I am sorry, and then try to keep my mind blank. I can’t build a wall either, but maybe not focusing on him would let Spock regain whatever composure he desperately needed, especially before confronting all those other Humans at school.
We seem to make the 7-Eleven in record time as Spock stomps on the brakes and I almost smack against the dashboard.
“You may procure your coffee here.”
I try to stifle my hurt feelings as I leave the car. Because the more I think about it, the more that it hurts that we don’t have that sort of relationship-that we were just goofing off before, having a good time, and now Spock needs to block me off to compensate.
Not that I didn’t need some time to myself, but I thought the purpose of the bond was to share these things? Fuck-sometimes it seems like the definition of the Vulcan bond is the antithesis of us.
My eyes are feeling warm as I look at my coffee choices. There’s a part of me that wants to stand before all the options forever and avoid getting back in that car. But I pick the Pumpkin Spice with vanilla creamer, not realizing until after it’s poured that sometimes Spock does taste like that weird combination of spices, like some fucking chai latte.
Damn Spock. Damn him all to hell.
But Eggy is at the counter again, all pigtails and floral tights, and I try to smile at her.
“Hello, stranger,” she says coyly, with more cheek than I can muster.
But I try anyway. “Hey, yourself. Come here often?”
Her thin lips quirk at the edge, failing to hide her amusement. “Unfortunately, yes.”
I pocket the quarter and pennies and wink at her. “Then see you around.”
It’s a good feeling, this playfulness with some girl I’ll likely never see again, and who seems to enjoy my company. Which is completely opposite of the inferno that blasts me as I exit, my mind overcome with too many thoughts racing by at once.
Maybe it's because I'm an idiot, but I reluctantly open the car door anyway. “Are you okay?”
It’s a stupid question, and the glare I get in return confirms it.
I roll my eyes at the windshield-James Kirk, fucking moron extraordinaire. How much more can he seemingly fuck up this morning before walking through the doors of Riverside High?
“I excuse your dalliances.”
Oh, plenty.
“What?”
Spock’s knuckles grip the steering wheel, his pale hands turning even more impossibly white as he stomps the gas. “You are unaware of your actions, and therefore I must not take incredible offense.”
Then why is there still this leaning tower of hostility about to come crashing down on my head?
“Spock, I know about your hand, and I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, and that wasn’t nice.”
The statement sounds great to my ears, and I even put a hand to my chest in sincerity. Blue eyes wide and pleading, here I go-“I promise to be more considerate in the future.”
Wham. That takes care of it, doesn’t it?
But instead of Spock easing in his Indy 500 race to school, he actually misses the turn towards Riverside altogether.
“Um, Spock-“
“I do not appreciate your… casualness with other individuals of whom you find attractive.”
I blink, speechless as I watch Spock bite his lip in frustration as he u-turns on the highway outside of town and starts retreating in the right direction.
He eases a little bit, his shoulders relaxing as he stares straight ahead. “I can feel your fondness through our bond and it is extremely uncomfortable.”
It’s then that it actually occurs to me what he might be talking about. “Um, Spock? You mean Eggy?”
He whips his head. “Are you more than mere acquaintances?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, she’s the dealer that supports my Cheetos and slushie habit.”
Spock’s grip tightens again, and I’m not sure exactly why.
“She’s just been there every time I’ve gone in. It’s just nice seeing a familiar face.”
Spock answers with silence, and I huff as I throw up my hands.
“She just looks cool, okay? I wouldn’t mind just being friendly or something. It’s not like I’d ever want to touch her boobs or anything-“
At that point we’ve sped into the school parking lot, and Spock parks quickly at an angle, not even bothering to perfect his lines.
“Aren’t you going to-“
“Leave the vehicle.”
Spock has already done so, and he’s racing ahead of me as I slam the door-sorry stupid, shiny Volvo, I honestly don’t give a fuck-and as I run to catch up, he only impassively clicks his keychain to beep his car locked.
“Spock?”
I’m watching his face like a hawk, likely about to run into everything since I can’t stop this anxious feeling, this feeling that he’s truly pissed at me-
“We shall discuss this later.”
“Yeah, we will,” I say strongly, trying to regain the upper hand. Fuck Spock for having an attitude about this. “Number one on the goddamn agenda.”
“Please watch your step.”
“I have fucking eyes, I can see where-“
Yet I trip on the stairs anyway, falling into Spock, who catches me with obvious bristling. His irritation is apparent as he shoves me off the moment my feet are sorted.
We reach the top landing at marching speed, and instead of being walked to English, Spock takes a right, not even saying goodbye.
“Spock-“ No, fuck it. If he doesn’t want to walk me to class and prefers to take the long way to his own, he can do as he damn well pleases.
Just like I can.
I barely watch his retreating form before I stomp off to World Lit in the opposite direction.
“Sorry Jimmy, I’m the only cranky asshole allowed in class today,” Mr. Dumka says in a too-cheerful greeting at my enflamed face. “Chill out and go sit down.”
Despite being in his Lit class for a month, it still surprises me that Mr. Dumka swears, and it takes the edge off things as I go to my desk. I drop my books near Pasha and Hikaru, who are both watching cautiously like I’m a nuclear reactor.
”Good morning, Riverside High. Today is Tuesday, October 12th, and last night in sports the Riverside Ants were defeated 12-1-“
“Is everyzing all right?” Pasha leans in to whisper to me. “I did not see Spock vith you.”
I want to glare at him, but I know that Pasha doesn’t mean any offense. If anything, since Pasha’s crush seems to have worn off, he’s been one of my truly good friends here, always subtly sensing my mood.
I try to smile. “Just swell.”
“Don’t lie to us, man,” Hikaru says, turning around. “I didn't see Spock’s car in the first parking space. So is he out of town, or-?”
“We got here late.” Which is the truth. “We were just delayed by… stuff.”
Smooth, Self.
“Vhat ‘stuff’?”
I flip my folder open and wave them off. “Sorry, I just don’t want to talk about it. Spock and I will after school, anyway.”
There’s unexpected silence, and when I glance up Hikaru is giving Pasha a look.
I take a deep breath. “Guys, it’s not the break-up talk. I promise.”
“Then what are you guys talking about?”
“Just stuff from yesterday,” I look pointedly at Hikaru, “if you remember.”
Which seems like the safest thing to say, considering that Hikaru’s metaphorical light bulb goes off right away, and Pasha stops his line of questioning.
“Well…” Hikaru gives me a wary glance. “Good luck with that.”
We’re all just looking at each other when the announcements end, and the class goes quiet to stare at Mr. Dumka. He's unfolded the local pages of the newspaper, like usual, and doesn’t seem to have noticed us-like usual.
“Well,” he says, folding his pages back up. “Life is boring now.” He flicks a glance in our direction. “Chekky, tell your UFO to come back.”
“I vould like to see it again,” Pasha confesses sadly as Hikaru sighs.
I don’t react because, well-if they only knew.
“Maybe Jimmy scared it off,” Mr. Dumka says with a hmm. “After trying to abduct you, it decided it didn’t want any humans.”
I try not to huff too loudly. It’s a topic that I don’t really want to talk about this morning.
“Whatcha think, Jimmy?”
I give him an annoyed glance. “I think I hate the book we’re reading.”
There’s giggling in the room, and Mr. Dumka joins in with a chuckle.
“Pray tell, Jimmy, pray tell.”
At that I thankfully open to chapter two of Slaughterhouse-Five, where I try to explain in non-specifics that the idea of being displaced in time squicks me out.
***
But at least after English I get to go to Keyboarding, which has been a solace of sorts.
Mrs. Robbins has not eased up on me in the slightest, of course. In fact, the sheet work has only gotten harder as the weeks have progressed, with the same amount of time to complete them. Five days to try to figure out some tricky keys and notes, all the while trying to remain with my personal style.
I still play Für Elise to warm up. Sometimes end with The Heart Asks Pleasure First. Mrs. Robbins has been interesting with mixing up periods and styles-last week was Richard Marx’s Right Here Waiting, which wound up being more difficult than that stupid song should have been. How did Mrs. Robbins even know about that 20th century piece of cheese, anyway?
Maybe they have crappy easy listening radio stations in the future, I don’t know.
But last week I still managed an A on my performance, so this week is even harder-the notes looking like spiders across the ledger.
“Is she trying to kill me?” I mutter to myself, with Bones still grumbling about his 87% on Standing In the Need of Prayer.
“Maybe,” he says with disgust, throwing his grade sheet in a notebook. “I swear a Klingon would be more lenient.”
I have no idea what’s clinging, but by then Mrs. Robbins has dismissed us to our places. Bones joins the other students at a group of tables, while I head to the broom closet that houses an upright piano.
As I open the door, the dust and wood overwhelm me-I love this room. It barely fits me, the piano, and space for the door to open and close, but I love it. There’s a light right above, and a window in the door. But otherwise if there’s a fire-well, I’d be a toasted Human in here.
Which, considering life as it is, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.
I do my warm-ups, and then try to look at the notes-really see the notes. Not for the mess they appear, but for the notes they should sound like.
Yesterday she gave me a piece I have never heard of-Nocturne No.21 in C-Minor Op.Posth. I don’t even know what that last part means, but it all makes my life difficult. Playing sucks when I have no clue what the piece should sound like. It makes it harder to lose myself in repetition, for the notes to become ingrained in my hands.
Instead I am fumbling and seemingly getting nowhere, no different from my first attempt at playing the piece yesterday morning. Maybe Mrs. Robbins has a wicked sense of humor and she is trying to tell me something.
Not that Mrs. Robbins hasn’t noticed what goes on between Spock and me, having been at that meeting herself. It feels awkward to be so exposed like that, to have all of them know my and Spock’s business.
I partially wonder if the whole ship knows-all 1000-something of them. The crew members I meet in the hallway when I’m exploring all give me a wide berth and a polite nod, rarely looking me in the eye.
They must know we’re head-bonded. They must know that I’m going into the future with them because of Spock. Hell, how does it look for Spock to be stuck with this awkward teen from the past-especially when he’s supposed to be a respected superior officer?
Does it look like I’m constantly tagging after him, nagging him like a spoiled child?
The first few bars make the whole piece sound downright somber and over-dramatic, like a poor schmuck spending his days in a medieval stone castle while it rains continuously outside. I might as well turn off the lights and bring some fucking candelabra in here.
Maybe Mrs. Robbins does know something, for I am stuck on those first few bars until the class bell rings, and even then I wish I could remain stuck in there forever.
***
In World History we’re studying the Cold War, and in Calculus we’re doing more fucking graphing with equations that take a page to work through.
Life is such a cheerful barrel of monkeys, I tell you.
“You’re like Winnie the Pooh.”
I look over at Hikaru with my brows raised. “Never say that to me again.”
“All metaphorical dark cloud above your head and shit.”
“You’re the last person I expected to be referencing Disney.”
He gives me a face as we sit down at our usual table in the cafeteria. “Um, all A. A. Milne. I’m into classics, bro.” He watches me open my bag of vending machine chips and grabs one. “Besides, then I’d be saying be a man.”
I crunch a chip in my mouth. “What?”
“You must be swift as a coursing river.”
I roll my eyes. “Did none of the Disney princesses get into a fight with their boyfriends?”
“Be a man-with all the force of a great typhoon!” He points a hi-yah at me, and I throw a chip at him.
“Mysterious as ze dark side of ze mooooooon!” Pasha finishes, sitting down between the two of us. “Is it karaoke time?”
Hikaru says, “Yes!” just as I demand a, “No”. But the conversation doesn’t go further as Spock drops his tray beside me, his presence still stopping discourse after a month of joining us.
I look at his stoic profile, surprised to even see him here, considering he stormed away from me this morning in a tiff.
But instead he hands over an apple, placing it on a napkin beside my bag of Lays.
“Hi,” I say meekly, not touching the apple in the slightest, especially as I watch Spock angle his tray.
“It occurred to me that you would not have had an opportunity to grab your lunch this morning.”
I look at the tray of chicken nuggets and fries, taking up half the tray next to Spock’s salad and bread roll. He is munching on iceberg lettuce nonchalantly, while all I want to do is grab my chest like a girl.
Yeah, I am getting misty-eyed over my boyfriend bringing me chicken nuggets, I can’t lie.
Unfortunately as I bring one to my mouth, I catch Hikaru and Pasha gaping at us, no doubt wondering why I didn’t have my lunch. Their imaginations can go a considerable distance, especially with all the paranormal shit they’re into.
I don’t answer them-who cares if they think we’re sleeping together, when the truth would probably seem more scandalous?
“Um,” I say to fill the silence of conversation-and also to see if Hikaru and Pasha will notice if I say anything at all. “Have you guys decided what you’re doing for Halloween yet?”
There, that was safe. We were a few weeks from the date anyway, so it wasn’t an oddball question. In fact, Pasha and Hikaru had regaled us with their costume ideas a few days ago, with a clueless Spock minutely acknowledging while our bond was filled with question marks.
Pasha chimes up with, “I am having a party!” His excitement is overwhelming, causing him to abandon his fries-a usual occurrence that Hikaru takes advantage of. “My parents are letting me inwite eweryone from GSA, and ve can vatch horror shows and hand out candy- “
“And dress up!” Hikaru throws in. “I’m going as Russell from Up.”
“And ve can stay up late and go UFO vatching if ve vant to!”
I grin at them, not realizing until a beat or two after that I’m certainly included, considering I’m also a part of the Gay-Straight Alliance at school. And so is Gaila, actually.
And a beat or two after that is when Pasha makes side eyes at Spock, suddenly realizing that he had invited his boyfriend and seemingly not him.
“Spock can come too!” he squeaks out. “I told Gaila she could bring Leonard.”
That sounded like a rollicking Halloween bash-Bones muttering in a corner about all the candy we were eating, while Spock had to put up with spin the bottle.
I turn to him and wag my eyebrows-actually, that would be fucking hilarious.
“I appreciate your invitation,” Spock says solemnly over his bottle of water, while I can feel in my head that Spock thinks it’s so not a good idea.
But instead I’ve moved on to what our costumes would be. “We can be Bert and Ernie?”
He shoots me a droll look, seeing the Sesame Street characters in my head.
“There’s always the Wizard of Oz. I could be Scarecrow and you could be Tin Man?”
Despite Spock looking less and less amused, I can hear Pasha giggling at the two of us.
“You could be an angel and a dewil!”
At that, Hikaru and I join in on his laughing-although for different reasons, as they likely don’t know about those pointed ears under Spock’s skullcap. But complete with the eyebrows, Spock would make a convincing Satan, for sure.
Spock would likely raise those eyebrows now if it weren’t for the stupid hat, and I laugh even harder.
“So you vill both come?” Pasha says insistently, wiping tears from his eyes. “It vould be so much fun!”
I turn towards Spock, feeling his amusement at my laughing in his head, and thus also his acceptance.
“You bet,” I say, actually feeling excited about something, for once.
***
I’m not sure what changed for Spock, but once we left lunch his manner was calmer, and we walked together to Biology in-tune and in step. It was an easy thing, not something either of us had suddenly agreed on. In fact it must've looked strange to everyone else as we passed impressions to each other in our heads, the clarity much clearer while this close and relaxed.
I like this version of Spock. It reminds me of things still being new and exciting, despite being bonded to one another.
Before we enter the classroom he caresses my inner wrist, not looking at me as he passes me in the doorway, once again leaving me breathless at the sensation. It never gets old.
Class could’ve been about something important, but for all we paid attention it wouldn’t have mattered. There were notes I copied mindlessly, not processing animal kingdoms as I keenly felt Spock’s proximity, as I usually do when we’re in Biology together.
It’s amazing how much Spock affects my mood. Not two hours ago I wanted to burn to death in the piano closet with a candelabra. Now I just wanted to get out of class and get home, so Spock and I could kiss without interruption.
At the end of Biology I actually suggest ditching Gym, but Spock is really stringent about that sort of thing for some reason-goody-goody.
“I will see you after class.” His voice is mellow and drawn out in a hum, quickening my pulse. He is once again holding my wrist, but seemingly reluctant to let go.
It's strange, this relationship with Spock. One moment he wants to run far away from me, and the next he is around me like a blanket.
“Yeah,” I say breathlessly, no doubt sounding like a teenaged girl as he walks away from the gym.
Man, it’s a good thing I’m married to the guy. I wouldn’t be able to stand going through this weak-kneed shit with anyone else.
It’s a feeling that holds on to the edge of my consciousness as I somehow make it through badminton-a sport I can actually manage for a change, but still wind up missing and being completely lame at, not paying attention to the birdie at all.
***
I change out of my gym clothes quickly and rush to my locker, hoping to see Spock there, but knowing he’ll drive me home in the Volvo, regardless. But instead of his tall and lean form I see Pasha, who gives a small wave as I approach.
“Have you made up vith Spock?”
I nod quickly, shoving my books on a shelf and trying to remember which ones I still need for homework.
“Vell, I vas going to ask if you vanted a study partner for Friday’s test, but…” he trails off, a hand gesturing in the air. “Tomorrow is GSA, but Zhursday?”
I nod again. “Yeah, sounds great.”
“Ve could go to the café and have ice cream?”
I shove three textbooks in my bag and slam the door. “Or one of those strawberry milkshakes.”
God, there was a place in town that did them thick-clogging-your-straw-to-death thick, yet still creamy.
Pasha nods again with a coy smile. “Ve vill go Zhursday, then?”
I smile back. “You bet. See you then!” And I practically run away from him, hurriedly thrusting the backpack over my shoulder, too eager to see Spock out in the parking lot. It pretty much slips my mind quickly, although I absently wonder what Spock might be doing on Thursday.
But a guy needed his own social life, you know?
When I get out into the parking lot, Spock is leaning against his silver Volvo, chatting with Bones and Gaila about something or other. But once my feet touch pavement, it seems that Spock’s gaze snaps to me in a second-drawn like a magnet, unable to help himself.
It’s a wonderful feeling, this instant connection. I knew he would do it, and at the same time it still shocks me when he does. That we are now so insistently centered on each other, it’s like second nature.
When I reach Spock’s side I lean against the car too, with Gaila’s eyes watching me as Spock and Bones go back to their conversation.
“If you’re going, then I have to go.” Bones throws an annoyed look Gaila’s way. “Not that she wouldn’t have conned me, anyway.”
Gaila flashes a smile as she clutches Bones’ arm. “You’ll love it.”
Bones rolls his eyes. “Watching hack and slash films while Pavel eats enough sugar for a diabetic coma. Sounds fantastic.”
I grin. “You could go dressed up as a surgeon?” I laugh with Gaila, who is usually the only one to find me funny.
Bones points at both of us. “Thick as thieves,” he accuses, then tugs Gaila’s arm. “Come on, Sugar-I’m taking you away from evil influence.”
“’Bye!” I say cheerfully, giving them a parting wave as I see Gaila melt and cling to Bones at the nickname-fucking adorable.
Spock and I don’t move from the car as we watch them leave, despite being one of the few left in the student parking lot, next to Bones’ gas guzzler a row off.
I let our forearms touch, asking in our heads where he wants to go next. Usually we go to my house and then the River House, allowing ourselves to be beamed up to the ship.
And that’s when I remember Mom.
“You did not tell her where you were going last night,” Spock says to complete the thought for me.
I sigh, pulling out my cellphone, wondering if there would be a few texts-except there’s not a single one.
I completely blew her off last night. Back in San Fran, such an occurrence wouldn’t have been left alone, with Mom likely busting down my door to get me to confess what was up.
But like last night demonstrated, things are different now. Mom also let me stomp to my room, which wouldn’t have happened back in San Fran, either.
“We will depart for your residence,” Spock says, and I feel instant relief.
Although really, did Mom even expect me home at this point?
I sink into the car seat next to Spock, suddenly down again. Isn’t it always something?
“Would you like to have dinner with your mother?”
I actually turn in my seat to gawk at him. Since when has Spock picked up on how to be the perfect boyfriend?
His eyes remain on the road. “Our discussion will be more productive if you are at ease with these matters.”
He’s right, although I had been excited to finally get Spock alone. But would it be any fun if I'm emo over my mother not calling me?
“Okay,” I say out loud, watching out the window as the familiar boxed streets go by, taking us to Main Street and over to my house.
As we turn onto my street, I feel a brief squeeze of my hand. Not enough to pass any images, but enough to give me a shock. Again, what has Spock done with my boyfriend?
“We will discuss matters after we have talked with Winona,” he says as he parks in the dirt driveway next to Gary, the ignition humming to quiet as he pulls out his keys.
I turn to look at him-really look at him. Spock hasn’t made a move to get out either, and instead is watching me too.
Life is different now, isn’t it? As much as things have remained the same, underneath the surface all the currents of our lives are flowing in different directions. A year ago, I thought I’d still be living with Mom during college-heck, that maybe we’d still be in California.
Now I was leaving her alone, going to a place where she can’t even visit.
“Why does it feel like I’m gone already?”
Spock shakes his head slightly. “I do not know.”
I take his fingers to squeeze gently, and it gives me the courage to get out of the car and finally walk towards the house.
I don’t knock as I enter with Spock, although I do call out a “Hello?” once we’re past the foyer and into the living room.
Mom is at the dining table, her finger on the laptop mouse, seemingly engrossed in reading before we startle her.
“Hon!” She closes the lid immediately and stands up to greet me. “I wondered where you were this morning.”
As she comes around the table to embrace me, there’s something in my chest that unclenches, able to breathe easier. I love the feel of hugging her, and a part of me is trying to memorize the sensation as I close my eyes.
Her hand rubs my back as she whispers in my ear, “You okay?”
I open my eyes reluctantly and whisper back, “Yeah, fine.”
Too soon she releases me, moving past me to say hello to Spock.
“Come in, stranger,” she says coyly, and I’m proud of Spock for getting that. “Why don’t we all sit down, and you can tell me what you two are up to for the evening?”
“That would be agreeable, Mrs. Kirk.”
She waves a hand at him. “Call me Mom. I think I’ve earned it, at this point.”
I can sense Spock’s discomfort, but he only bows his head. “As you wish… Mom.”
I beam at him as Mom leaves to grab water and sodas, although it dims as I remember that Spock’s mother had died pretty recently-six months ago? It must be awkward, but I appreciate that Spock is willing to humor her.
In some ways, with how agreeable Spock is being, it only makes me wonder how bad our talk is going to get.
He gives me a strange look for that as Mom enters the room, handing him a glass of water while I get a Mountain Dew.
“I was just finishing a chart for a client when you guys walked in,” Mom starts, sitting down in an armchair across from us. “I’ve been getting a lot of business lately with the upcoming stellium.”
Spock holds the glass of water in his lap, at polite attention. “A stellium is when several planets reside in one astrological sign.”
Mom looks at him like she’s found a lost child. Hell, I’ve been her kid all this time, and I didn’t even have a clue what that meant.
“It’s not until the spring, but it’s in the sign of Aries-fiery, life-changing, promoting action and aggressiveness.”
“It predicts a tumultuous time.” Spock sips his water as Mom practically flails at the opportunity to talk shop.
“Six planets in one of the more impulsive signs of the zodiac!” She gives me a sideways glance, a note to her Aries child. “Tumultuous is an understatement. More like a revolution.”
Too bad I won’t be here in the spring to appreciate it.
It’s as if Mom and I reach that conclusion at the same time, for her smile dies a little as I slouch into the couch.
Spock clears his throat. “Is it difficult to divine a chart from an individual who should not technically be born yet?”
Mom shakes her head. “It’s all numbers and data. Astrology is how the planets currently affect a person. The birthdate is for determining the houses that would be affected in the present time, and again that’s just calculating numbers and degrees.”
“It is an interesting system.”
I know Spock is being polite. While Vulcans have their own mumbo-jumbo, astrologically predicting the future is likely not one of them.
But Mom perks up again-which only means one thing.
“Would you like your chart read, Spock?”
And to Spock’s credit, he doesn’t let on that he thinks it’s a hopeless cause.
“I would be interested in one, Mrs.-“
She gives him a look, and he swallows.
“I would be interested.”
She nods at that, going to grab her laptop. “Start giving me your deets, dear!”
Spock looks at me and I mouth details.
“Would you prefer this in the Gregorian calendar?”
Mom gives him another look. “Darling, you think I can convert to stardates on my 21st century computer?”
At that he blushes, a light green piercing his cheeks, something that makes me smile.
And once Mom has entered his “deets”, we find out that Spock would also have a very tumultuous and unpredictable spring. Aries influences his houses of love, home, and career, with radical changes coming for all of them.
But hell, I could’ve told the stars that.
Chapter Two-B | Masterlist
Author: rainbowstrlght
Rating: R
Word Count: 98,003
Warnings: Um, angst. There is a lot of it. Arguing/discord, body possession, vague talks of suicide/martyrdom.
Masterlist: Here
Chapter Two: It’s hard out here for a pimp time-traveling Human.
Okay, so-sleeping with Spock? Maybe not so grand.
I mean, it was nice to have some companionship in bed, all right. But I think I had a dog once that was about as cuddly as Spock-and by that I mean the dog had to be coaxed onto the bed with treats and held down in a neck hold.
No matter how much I envisaged spooning in my head, Spock never got the hint. Or ignored the hint.
“There are clothes in the head.”
Well, I guess it was too much to expect that I could steal one of Spock’s sweaters or something.
Progress, Self. Currently we are at the first base of sleeping together, lying side by side without touching. Maybe tonight we'll fucking brush forearms or something.
“Energize.”
But fuck this transporter so early in the morning. I should’ve had coffee in the mess, seriously.
“I do not believe such a beverage would help your predicament,” Spock says too smugly-and yes smugly Spock, smugly.
“I was merely stating a fact.”
I let my mouth echo that soundlessly, although I know he’ll see it in his head. “God, can we stop somewhere for coffee?”
We’re at the River House, which is customary for Spock and the crew. They may sleep on a starship, but they certainly can’t beam directly down to Riverside High. So they built this tall, gray, eco-friendly structure on the Mississippi, complete with a garage for their various fancy vehicles.
And by “fancy”, I mean Spock’s silver Volvo and Bones’ tree-killing monster truck; the latter already having the doors open for people to pile in.
Bones waves at the both of us, while Gaila smiles and rushes over, her grin about to break her face.
She makes a squeak as she hugs me, whispering excitedly in my ear, “You slept over!”
I roll my eyes-how did she even find out, anyway?-but I'm grateful that Spock gives us space by getting in his car.
“Not exactly how I thought it would go, but yeah.”
She pulls back with a coy smile. “You know Vulcans are prudish, right?”
I shrug. “Yeah, but we’re kind of mind-bonded or something.”
Gaila shakes her head-which, the red curls are still the same, but after a month of visiting the Enterprise it’s still weird to know there’s green skin under the pale mask. All thanks to the turquoise pendant around her neck, secretly shielding everything, while tucked into the curves of her v-neck sweater.
“It’s still a big deal to invite you into his room.” She elbows me with a smirk. “Progress, Jim.”
Yeah, fine. It definitely was. If you gave me the option again, I’d take lying chastely with Spock over sleeping alone, that’s for sure.
I give her a quiet smile, and that seems good enough for her to move off with a wave. “See you later!”
We likely would. Out of all the people that would be a part of my new future, Gaila had been one of those making an immense effort. We’d sometimes meet on the Enterprise for exploration, with her enthusiasm to teach me infectious.
I wave back, already heading to Spock’s pretentious car-God did I miss Gary in these moments. Gary with his cab high in the air, as opposed to my ass feeling too close to the ground in this stupid, shiny Volvo.
“This vehicle is more energy-efficient.”
“This vehicle is more-"
Spock clamps a hand over my mouth, not even looking at me as he backs out of the long driveway.
Ass.
“Your attitude is quite peculiar today.”
Don’t I know what that means.
I lick his palm, muffling, “Your attitude-“
The car stops abruptly as Spock whips his hand away and jerks his face in my direction, his brown eyes wide and staring openly with shock.
My lips still feel wet from where they touched his palm, and I lick my mouth-all the while trying to process his expression.
Which, yeah, I guess I had never licked him before. And his skin was kind of dry and musky and-
Oh. Oh damn. That's... kind of a sensitive place for Vulcans.
Spock straightens his spine and stiffens-and perhaps that’s a double-entendre.
“Sorry,” I mutter. Because while I’d like to move from lying chastely with Spock to some sinning, I’d also want Spock to kind of enjoy it.
I feel a lot of prickling from his end. There’s a sense of frustration that it’s difficult to erect his emotional barriers, the ones that would block all his feelings of discomfort and worry.
Worry? About what? I guess it’s like being caught with your pants down-or naked in the bathroom. Except I can’t just close the door and beat an embarrassed and hasty retreat.
I try my most sincere apologies in my head, because I am sorry, and then try to keep my mind blank. I can’t build a wall either, but maybe not focusing on him would let Spock regain whatever composure he desperately needed, especially before confronting all those other Humans at school.
We seem to make the 7-Eleven in record time as Spock stomps on the brakes and I almost smack against the dashboard.
“You may procure your coffee here.”
I try to stifle my hurt feelings as I leave the car. Because the more I think about it, the more that it hurts that we don’t have that sort of relationship-that we were just goofing off before, having a good time, and now Spock needs to block me off to compensate.
Not that I didn’t need some time to myself, but I thought the purpose of the bond was to share these things? Fuck-sometimes it seems like the definition of the Vulcan bond is the antithesis of us.
My eyes are feeling warm as I look at my coffee choices. There’s a part of me that wants to stand before all the options forever and avoid getting back in that car. But I pick the Pumpkin Spice with vanilla creamer, not realizing until after it’s poured that sometimes Spock does taste like that weird combination of spices, like some fucking chai latte.
Damn Spock. Damn him all to hell.
But Eggy is at the counter again, all pigtails and floral tights, and I try to smile at her.
“Hello, stranger,” she says coyly, with more cheek than I can muster.
But I try anyway. “Hey, yourself. Come here often?”
Her thin lips quirk at the edge, failing to hide her amusement. “Unfortunately, yes.”
I pocket the quarter and pennies and wink at her. “Then see you around.”
It’s a good feeling, this playfulness with some girl I’ll likely never see again, and who seems to enjoy my company. Which is completely opposite of the inferno that blasts me as I exit, my mind overcome with too many thoughts racing by at once.
Maybe it's because I'm an idiot, but I reluctantly open the car door anyway. “Are you okay?”
It’s a stupid question, and the glare I get in return confirms it.
I roll my eyes at the windshield-James Kirk, fucking moron extraordinaire. How much more can he seemingly fuck up this morning before walking through the doors of Riverside High?
“I excuse your dalliances.”
Oh, plenty.
“What?”
Spock’s knuckles grip the steering wheel, his pale hands turning even more impossibly white as he stomps the gas. “You are unaware of your actions, and therefore I must not take incredible offense.”
Then why is there still this leaning tower of hostility about to come crashing down on my head?
“Spock, I know about your hand, and I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, and that wasn’t nice.”
The statement sounds great to my ears, and I even put a hand to my chest in sincerity. Blue eyes wide and pleading, here I go-“I promise to be more considerate in the future.”
Wham. That takes care of it, doesn’t it?
But instead of Spock easing in his Indy 500 race to school, he actually misses the turn towards Riverside altogether.
“Um, Spock-“
“I do not appreciate your… casualness with other individuals of whom you find attractive.”
I blink, speechless as I watch Spock bite his lip in frustration as he u-turns on the highway outside of town and starts retreating in the right direction.
He eases a little bit, his shoulders relaxing as he stares straight ahead. “I can feel your fondness through our bond and it is extremely uncomfortable.”
It’s then that it actually occurs to me what he might be talking about. “Um, Spock? You mean Eggy?”
He whips his head. “Are you more than mere acquaintances?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, she’s the dealer that supports my Cheetos and slushie habit.”
Spock’s grip tightens again, and I’m not sure exactly why.
“She’s just been there every time I’ve gone in. It’s just nice seeing a familiar face.”
Spock answers with silence, and I huff as I throw up my hands.
“She just looks cool, okay? I wouldn’t mind just being friendly or something. It’s not like I’d ever want to touch her boobs or anything-“
At that point we’ve sped into the school parking lot, and Spock parks quickly at an angle, not even bothering to perfect his lines.
“Aren’t you going to-“
“Leave the vehicle.”
Spock has already done so, and he’s racing ahead of me as I slam the door-sorry stupid, shiny Volvo, I honestly don’t give a fuck-and as I run to catch up, he only impassively clicks his keychain to beep his car locked.
“Spock?”
I’m watching his face like a hawk, likely about to run into everything since I can’t stop this anxious feeling, this feeling that he’s truly pissed at me-
“We shall discuss this later.”
“Yeah, we will,” I say strongly, trying to regain the upper hand. Fuck Spock for having an attitude about this. “Number one on the goddamn agenda.”
“Please watch your step.”
“I have fucking eyes, I can see where-“
Yet I trip on the stairs anyway, falling into Spock, who catches me with obvious bristling. His irritation is apparent as he shoves me off the moment my feet are sorted.
We reach the top landing at marching speed, and instead of being walked to English, Spock takes a right, not even saying goodbye.
“Spock-“ No, fuck it. If he doesn’t want to walk me to class and prefers to take the long way to his own, he can do as he damn well pleases.
Just like I can.
I barely watch his retreating form before I stomp off to World Lit in the opposite direction.
“Sorry Jimmy, I’m the only cranky asshole allowed in class today,” Mr. Dumka says in a too-cheerful greeting at my enflamed face. “Chill out and go sit down.”
Despite being in his Lit class for a month, it still surprises me that Mr. Dumka swears, and it takes the edge off things as I go to my desk. I drop my books near Pasha and Hikaru, who are both watching cautiously like I’m a nuclear reactor.
”Good morning, Riverside High. Today is Tuesday, October 12th, and last night in sports the Riverside Ants were defeated 12-1-“
“Is everyzing all right?” Pasha leans in to whisper to me. “I did not see Spock vith you.”
I want to glare at him, but I know that Pasha doesn’t mean any offense. If anything, since Pasha’s crush seems to have worn off, he’s been one of my truly good friends here, always subtly sensing my mood.
I try to smile. “Just swell.”
“Don’t lie to us, man,” Hikaru says, turning around. “I didn't see Spock’s car in the first parking space. So is he out of town, or-?”
“We got here late.” Which is the truth. “We were just delayed by… stuff.”
Smooth, Self.
“Vhat ‘stuff’?”
I flip my folder open and wave them off. “Sorry, I just don’t want to talk about it. Spock and I will after school, anyway.”
There’s unexpected silence, and when I glance up Hikaru is giving Pasha a look.
I take a deep breath. “Guys, it’s not the break-up talk. I promise.”
“Then what are you guys talking about?”
“Just stuff from yesterday,” I look pointedly at Hikaru, “if you remember.”
Which seems like the safest thing to say, considering that Hikaru’s metaphorical light bulb goes off right away, and Pasha stops his line of questioning.
“Well…” Hikaru gives me a wary glance. “Good luck with that.”
We’re all just looking at each other when the announcements end, and the class goes quiet to stare at Mr. Dumka. He's unfolded the local pages of the newspaper, like usual, and doesn’t seem to have noticed us-like usual.
“Well,” he says, folding his pages back up. “Life is boring now.” He flicks a glance in our direction. “Chekky, tell your UFO to come back.”
“I vould like to see it again,” Pasha confesses sadly as Hikaru sighs.
I don’t react because, well-if they only knew.
“Maybe Jimmy scared it off,” Mr. Dumka says with a hmm. “After trying to abduct you, it decided it didn’t want any humans.”
I try not to huff too loudly. It’s a topic that I don’t really want to talk about this morning.
“Whatcha think, Jimmy?”
I give him an annoyed glance. “I think I hate the book we’re reading.”
There’s giggling in the room, and Mr. Dumka joins in with a chuckle.
“Pray tell, Jimmy, pray tell.”
At that I thankfully open to chapter two of Slaughterhouse-Five, where I try to explain in non-specifics that the idea of being displaced in time squicks me out.
***
But at least after English I get to go to Keyboarding, which has been a solace of sorts.
Mrs. Robbins has not eased up on me in the slightest, of course. In fact, the sheet work has only gotten harder as the weeks have progressed, with the same amount of time to complete them. Five days to try to figure out some tricky keys and notes, all the while trying to remain with my personal style.
I still play Für Elise to warm up. Sometimes end with The Heart Asks Pleasure First. Mrs. Robbins has been interesting with mixing up periods and styles-last week was Richard Marx’s Right Here Waiting, which wound up being more difficult than that stupid song should have been. How did Mrs. Robbins even know about that 20th century piece of cheese, anyway?
Maybe they have crappy easy listening radio stations in the future, I don’t know.
But last week I still managed an A on my performance, so this week is even harder-the notes looking like spiders across the ledger.
“Is she trying to kill me?” I mutter to myself, with Bones still grumbling about his 87% on Standing In the Need of Prayer.
“Maybe,” he says with disgust, throwing his grade sheet in a notebook. “I swear a Klingon would be more lenient.”
I have no idea what’s clinging, but by then Mrs. Robbins has dismissed us to our places. Bones joins the other students at a group of tables, while I head to the broom closet that houses an upright piano.
As I open the door, the dust and wood overwhelm me-I love this room. It barely fits me, the piano, and space for the door to open and close, but I love it. There’s a light right above, and a window in the door. But otherwise if there’s a fire-well, I’d be a toasted Human in here.
Which, considering life as it is, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.
I do my warm-ups, and then try to look at the notes-really see the notes. Not for the mess they appear, but for the notes they should sound like.
Yesterday she gave me a piece I have never heard of-Nocturne No.21 in C-Minor Op.Posth. I don’t even know what that last part means, but it all makes my life difficult. Playing sucks when I have no clue what the piece should sound like. It makes it harder to lose myself in repetition, for the notes to become ingrained in my hands.
Instead I am fumbling and seemingly getting nowhere, no different from my first attempt at playing the piece yesterday morning. Maybe Mrs. Robbins has a wicked sense of humor and she is trying to tell me something.
Not that Mrs. Robbins hasn’t noticed what goes on between Spock and me, having been at that meeting herself. It feels awkward to be so exposed like that, to have all of them know my and Spock’s business.
I partially wonder if the whole ship knows-all 1000-something of them. The crew members I meet in the hallway when I’m exploring all give me a wide berth and a polite nod, rarely looking me in the eye.
They must know we’re head-bonded. They must know that I’m going into the future with them because of Spock. Hell, how does it look for Spock to be stuck with this awkward teen from the past-especially when he’s supposed to be a respected superior officer?
Does it look like I’m constantly tagging after him, nagging him like a spoiled child?
The first few bars make the whole piece sound downright somber and over-dramatic, like a poor schmuck spending his days in a medieval stone castle while it rains continuously outside. I might as well turn off the lights and bring some fucking candelabra in here.
Maybe Mrs. Robbins does know something, for I am stuck on those first few bars until the class bell rings, and even then I wish I could remain stuck in there forever.
***
In World History we’re studying the Cold War, and in Calculus we’re doing more fucking graphing with equations that take a page to work through.
Life is such a cheerful barrel of monkeys, I tell you.
“You’re like Winnie the Pooh.”
I look over at Hikaru with my brows raised. “Never say that to me again.”
“All metaphorical dark cloud above your head and shit.”
“You’re the last person I expected to be referencing Disney.”
He gives me a face as we sit down at our usual table in the cafeteria. “Um, all A. A. Milne. I’m into classics, bro.” He watches me open my bag of vending machine chips and grabs one. “Besides, then I’d be saying be a man.”
I crunch a chip in my mouth. “What?”
“You must be swift as a coursing river.”
I roll my eyes. “Did none of the Disney princesses get into a fight with their boyfriends?”
“Be a man-with all the force of a great typhoon!” He points a hi-yah at me, and I throw a chip at him.
“Mysterious as ze dark side of ze mooooooon!” Pasha finishes, sitting down between the two of us. “Is it karaoke time?”
Hikaru says, “Yes!” just as I demand a, “No”. But the conversation doesn’t go further as Spock drops his tray beside me, his presence still stopping discourse after a month of joining us.
I look at his stoic profile, surprised to even see him here, considering he stormed away from me this morning in a tiff.
But instead he hands over an apple, placing it on a napkin beside my bag of Lays.
“Hi,” I say meekly, not touching the apple in the slightest, especially as I watch Spock angle his tray.
“It occurred to me that you would not have had an opportunity to grab your lunch this morning.”
I look at the tray of chicken nuggets and fries, taking up half the tray next to Spock’s salad and bread roll. He is munching on iceberg lettuce nonchalantly, while all I want to do is grab my chest like a girl.
Yeah, I am getting misty-eyed over my boyfriend bringing me chicken nuggets, I can’t lie.
Unfortunately as I bring one to my mouth, I catch Hikaru and Pasha gaping at us, no doubt wondering why I didn’t have my lunch. Their imaginations can go a considerable distance, especially with all the paranormal shit they’re into.
I don’t answer them-who cares if they think we’re sleeping together, when the truth would probably seem more scandalous?
“Um,” I say to fill the silence of conversation-and also to see if Hikaru and Pasha will notice if I say anything at all. “Have you guys decided what you’re doing for Halloween yet?”
There, that was safe. We were a few weeks from the date anyway, so it wasn’t an oddball question. In fact, Pasha and Hikaru had regaled us with their costume ideas a few days ago, with a clueless Spock minutely acknowledging while our bond was filled with question marks.
Pasha chimes up with, “I am having a party!” His excitement is overwhelming, causing him to abandon his fries-a usual occurrence that Hikaru takes advantage of. “My parents are letting me inwite eweryone from GSA, and ve can vatch horror shows and hand out candy- “
“And dress up!” Hikaru throws in. “I’m going as Russell from Up.”
“And ve can stay up late and go UFO vatching if ve vant to!”
I grin at them, not realizing until a beat or two after that I’m certainly included, considering I’m also a part of the Gay-Straight Alliance at school. And so is Gaila, actually.
And a beat or two after that is when Pasha makes side eyes at Spock, suddenly realizing that he had invited his boyfriend and seemingly not him.
“Spock can come too!” he squeaks out. “I told Gaila she could bring Leonard.”
That sounded like a rollicking Halloween bash-Bones muttering in a corner about all the candy we were eating, while Spock had to put up with spin the bottle.
I turn to him and wag my eyebrows-actually, that would be fucking hilarious.
“I appreciate your invitation,” Spock says solemnly over his bottle of water, while I can feel in my head that Spock thinks it’s so not a good idea.
But instead I’ve moved on to what our costumes would be. “We can be Bert and Ernie?”
He shoots me a droll look, seeing the Sesame Street characters in my head.
“There’s always the Wizard of Oz. I could be Scarecrow and you could be Tin Man?”
Despite Spock looking less and less amused, I can hear Pasha giggling at the two of us.
“You could be an angel and a dewil!”
At that, Hikaru and I join in on his laughing-although for different reasons, as they likely don’t know about those pointed ears under Spock’s skullcap. But complete with the eyebrows, Spock would make a convincing Satan, for sure.
Spock would likely raise those eyebrows now if it weren’t for the stupid hat, and I laugh even harder.
“So you vill both come?” Pasha says insistently, wiping tears from his eyes. “It vould be so much fun!”
I turn towards Spock, feeling his amusement at my laughing in his head, and thus also his acceptance.
“You bet,” I say, actually feeling excited about something, for once.
***
I’m not sure what changed for Spock, but once we left lunch his manner was calmer, and we walked together to Biology in-tune and in step. It was an easy thing, not something either of us had suddenly agreed on. In fact it must've looked strange to everyone else as we passed impressions to each other in our heads, the clarity much clearer while this close and relaxed.
I like this version of Spock. It reminds me of things still being new and exciting, despite being bonded to one another.
Before we enter the classroom he caresses my inner wrist, not looking at me as he passes me in the doorway, once again leaving me breathless at the sensation. It never gets old.
Class could’ve been about something important, but for all we paid attention it wouldn’t have mattered. There were notes I copied mindlessly, not processing animal kingdoms as I keenly felt Spock’s proximity, as I usually do when we’re in Biology together.
It’s amazing how much Spock affects my mood. Not two hours ago I wanted to burn to death in the piano closet with a candelabra. Now I just wanted to get out of class and get home, so Spock and I could kiss without interruption.
At the end of Biology I actually suggest ditching Gym, but Spock is really stringent about that sort of thing for some reason-goody-goody.
“I will see you after class.” His voice is mellow and drawn out in a hum, quickening my pulse. He is once again holding my wrist, but seemingly reluctant to let go.
It's strange, this relationship with Spock. One moment he wants to run far away from me, and the next he is around me like a blanket.
“Yeah,” I say breathlessly, no doubt sounding like a teenaged girl as he walks away from the gym.
Man, it’s a good thing I’m married to the guy. I wouldn’t be able to stand going through this weak-kneed shit with anyone else.
It’s a feeling that holds on to the edge of my consciousness as I somehow make it through badminton-a sport I can actually manage for a change, but still wind up missing and being completely lame at, not paying attention to the birdie at all.
***
I change out of my gym clothes quickly and rush to my locker, hoping to see Spock there, but knowing he’ll drive me home in the Volvo, regardless. But instead of his tall and lean form I see Pasha, who gives a small wave as I approach.
“Have you made up vith Spock?”
I nod quickly, shoving my books on a shelf and trying to remember which ones I still need for homework.
“Vell, I vas going to ask if you vanted a study partner for Friday’s test, but…” he trails off, a hand gesturing in the air. “Tomorrow is GSA, but Zhursday?”
I nod again. “Yeah, sounds great.”
“Ve could go to the café and have ice cream?”
I shove three textbooks in my bag and slam the door. “Or one of those strawberry milkshakes.”
God, there was a place in town that did them thick-clogging-your-straw-to-death thick, yet still creamy.
Pasha nods again with a coy smile. “Ve vill go Zhursday, then?”
I smile back. “You bet. See you then!” And I practically run away from him, hurriedly thrusting the backpack over my shoulder, too eager to see Spock out in the parking lot. It pretty much slips my mind quickly, although I absently wonder what Spock might be doing on Thursday.
But a guy needed his own social life, you know?
When I get out into the parking lot, Spock is leaning against his silver Volvo, chatting with Bones and Gaila about something or other. But once my feet touch pavement, it seems that Spock’s gaze snaps to me in a second-drawn like a magnet, unable to help himself.
It’s a wonderful feeling, this instant connection. I knew he would do it, and at the same time it still shocks me when he does. That we are now so insistently centered on each other, it’s like second nature.
When I reach Spock’s side I lean against the car too, with Gaila’s eyes watching me as Spock and Bones go back to their conversation.
“If you’re going, then I have to go.” Bones throws an annoyed look Gaila’s way. “Not that she wouldn’t have conned me, anyway.”
Gaila flashes a smile as she clutches Bones’ arm. “You’ll love it.”
Bones rolls his eyes. “Watching hack and slash films while Pavel eats enough sugar for a diabetic coma. Sounds fantastic.”
I grin. “You could go dressed up as a surgeon?” I laugh with Gaila, who is usually the only one to find me funny.
Bones points at both of us. “Thick as thieves,” he accuses, then tugs Gaila’s arm. “Come on, Sugar-I’m taking you away from evil influence.”
“’Bye!” I say cheerfully, giving them a parting wave as I see Gaila melt and cling to Bones at the nickname-fucking adorable.
Spock and I don’t move from the car as we watch them leave, despite being one of the few left in the student parking lot, next to Bones’ gas guzzler a row off.
I let our forearms touch, asking in our heads where he wants to go next. Usually we go to my house and then the River House, allowing ourselves to be beamed up to the ship.
And that’s when I remember Mom.
“You did not tell her where you were going last night,” Spock says to complete the thought for me.
I sigh, pulling out my cellphone, wondering if there would be a few texts-except there’s not a single one.
I completely blew her off last night. Back in San Fran, such an occurrence wouldn’t have been left alone, with Mom likely busting down my door to get me to confess what was up.
But like last night demonstrated, things are different now. Mom also let me stomp to my room, which wouldn’t have happened back in San Fran, either.
“We will depart for your residence,” Spock says, and I feel instant relief.
Although really, did Mom even expect me home at this point?
I sink into the car seat next to Spock, suddenly down again. Isn’t it always something?
“Would you like to have dinner with your mother?”
I actually turn in my seat to gawk at him. Since when has Spock picked up on how to be the perfect boyfriend?
His eyes remain on the road. “Our discussion will be more productive if you are at ease with these matters.”
He’s right, although I had been excited to finally get Spock alone. But would it be any fun if I'm emo over my mother not calling me?
“Okay,” I say out loud, watching out the window as the familiar boxed streets go by, taking us to Main Street and over to my house.
As we turn onto my street, I feel a brief squeeze of my hand. Not enough to pass any images, but enough to give me a shock. Again, what has Spock done with my boyfriend?
“We will discuss matters after we have talked with Winona,” he says as he parks in the dirt driveway next to Gary, the ignition humming to quiet as he pulls out his keys.
I turn to look at him-really look at him. Spock hasn’t made a move to get out either, and instead is watching me too.
Life is different now, isn’t it? As much as things have remained the same, underneath the surface all the currents of our lives are flowing in different directions. A year ago, I thought I’d still be living with Mom during college-heck, that maybe we’d still be in California.
Now I was leaving her alone, going to a place where she can’t even visit.
“Why does it feel like I’m gone already?”
Spock shakes his head slightly. “I do not know.”
I take his fingers to squeeze gently, and it gives me the courage to get out of the car and finally walk towards the house.
I don’t knock as I enter with Spock, although I do call out a “Hello?” once we’re past the foyer and into the living room.
Mom is at the dining table, her finger on the laptop mouse, seemingly engrossed in reading before we startle her.
“Hon!” She closes the lid immediately and stands up to greet me. “I wondered where you were this morning.”
As she comes around the table to embrace me, there’s something in my chest that unclenches, able to breathe easier. I love the feel of hugging her, and a part of me is trying to memorize the sensation as I close my eyes.
Her hand rubs my back as she whispers in my ear, “You okay?”
I open my eyes reluctantly and whisper back, “Yeah, fine.”
Too soon she releases me, moving past me to say hello to Spock.
“Come in, stranger,” she says coyly, and I’m proud of Spock for getting that. “Why don’t we all sit down, and you can tell me what you two are up to for the evening?”
“That would be agreeable, Mrs. Kirk.”
She waves a hand at him. “Call me Mom. I think I’ve earned it, at this point.”
I can sense Spock’s discomfort, but he only bows his head. “As you wish… Mom.”
I beam at him as Mom leaves to grab water and sodas, although it dims as I remember that Spock’s mother had died pretty recently-six months ago? It must be awkward, but I appreciate that Spock is willing to humor her.
In some ways, with how agreeable Spock is being, it only makes me wonder how bad our talk is going to get.
He gives me a strange look for that as Mom enters the room, handing him a glass of water while I get a Mountain Dew.
“I was just finishing a chart for a client when you guys walked in,” Mom starts, sitting down in an armchair across from us. “I’ve been getting a lot of business lately with the upcoming stellium.”
Spock holds the glass of water in his lap, at polite attention. “A stellium is when several planets reside in one astrological sign.”
Mom looks at him like she’s found a lost child. Hell, I’ve been her kid all this time, and I didn’t even have a clue what that meant.
“It’s not until the spring, but it’s in the sign of Aries-fiery, life-changing, promoting action and aggressiveness.”
“It predicts a tumultuous time.” Spock sips his water as Mom practically flails at the opportunity to talk shop.
“Six planets in one of the more impulsive signs of the zodiac!” She gives me a sideways glance, a note to her Aries child. “Tumultuous is an understatement. More like a revolution.”
Too bad I won’t be here in the spring to appreciate it.
It’s as if Mom and I reach that conclusion at the same time, for her smile dies a little as I slouch into the couch.
Spock clears his throat. “Is it difficult to divine a chart from an individual who should not technically be born yet?”
Mom shakes her head. “It’s all numbers and data. Astrology is how the planets currently affect a person. The birthdate is for determining the houses that would be affected in the present time, and again that’s just calculating numbers and degrees.”
“It is an interesting system.”
I know Spock is being polite. While Vulcans have their own mumbo-jumbo, astrologically predicting the future is likely not one of them.
But Mom perks up again-which only means one thing.
“Would you like your chart read, Spock?”
And to Spock’s credit, he doesn’t let on that he thinks it’s a hopeless cause.
“I would be interested in one, Mrs.-“
She gives him a look, and he swallows.
“I would be interested.”
She nods at that, going to grab her laptop. “Start giving me your deets, dear!”
Spock looks at me and I mouth details.
“Would you prefer this in the Gregorian calendar?”
Mom gives him another look. “Darling, you think I can convert to stardates on my 21st century computer?”
At that he blushes, a light green piercing his cheeks, something that makes me smile.
And once Mom has entered his “deets”, we find out that Spock would also have a very tumultuous and unpredictable spring. Aries influences his houses of love, home, and career, with radical changes coming for all of them.
But hell, I could’ve told the stars that.
Chapter Two-B | Masterlist