Fic: Observations, Ch 130
I wait for Jim in his quarters. He has granted me free access.
“It’s only logical,” he shrugged. “You spend so much time here. I find your datapads mixed in my pile sometimes.”
The bulkheads open. I stand. Jim looks at me. Something inside him seems to unravel. He reigns it in, but I step towards him, closing the distance between us. I look at his lips, then make eye contact. He exhales, body relaxing slightly.
I kiss him.
He leans into me.
“I’m trying. I’m trying to do this whole separate duty and personal shit thing, but you make it so damn hard,” he whispers.
“You require more time, Jim. It was unreasonable of both myself and Dr. McCoy to expect you to suddenly divide your life into two parts, when both have always been highly integrated.”
He wraps his arms around me loosely. “This feels right. I don’t want to go back to when I didn’t have this.”
“Nevertheless, it is necessary for you to divide the associations you have of me. On the bridge, on Away Missions, I am your First Officer and I will conduct myself as such. Here, it is,” I pause. Words come to mind, but I ignore them. “It is different.”
“I’ve never done that. I’ve never thought of you as Spock, that guy who’s my First Officer, or Spock, the guy who’s my Science Officer. Everything’s related to everything else.”
“You have no difficulty separating your public image with the person you present to your familiars.”
“This isn’t the same. I only do that when I’m being interviewed, talking to Nogura, or meeting a diplomat. I don’t want to do that every time I’m on the bridge with you.”
He kisses me.
“I’ll figure something out, don’t worry.”
He disengages and drops his arms. Jim walks to his drawers, peeling off the shirts of his uniform as he goes. The shirts are thrown to the side.
I watch the interplay of muscles on his back, the stretching of the latissimus dorsi, the smooth curve of his deltoid connecting to his shoulder, the plane of the trapezius muscle as he bends. The indent along his vertebrae falls in sharp contrast when he stands again. The skin of his neck creases as he twists his head. Jim shuffles through the drawers and for each movement, I can see the muscles beneath his skin working fluidly. Along his arms I can see the paths of arteries and veins. Jim picks up a shirt. He unfolds it carelessly, puts his two arms through the sleeves, then draws the shirt over his head. The action causes him to raise his arms and the lines of his back change, forming a completely new topography. I watch as the material of the cloth finally goes over his body, covering the view.
Jim pauses in his search for the remainder of his sleepwear.
“You staying tonight?”
I shake my head. I require a session for meditation.
“Okay. When’re you going on shift?”
“I will be there for Beta shift. Afterwards, Dr. McCoy and I will continue work on our project.”
“By the way, Chekov wants to know when you’ll have time for that project he wants to do with the navigation panel.”
“I will speak to him on the matter.”
I moved to leave.
“Spock?”
“Yes captain?”
“Thanks.”