igrab
in
grabi_hands
With a Little Help from My Friends [Come Together]
[Masterpost]
Kirk burst into Spock's room, without knocking, as usual.
"You're requesting shore leave?!"
Spock gave him a Look. "I believe it is within my rights to do so, and has, in fact, been encouraged by our ship's physician on multiple occasions."
He slapped his hands down on the desk, just short of slamming, and leaned all his weight onto them, so he could make a big show of looking deep into Spock's eyes. "You never take shore leave. Never ever. You haven't taken shore leave in six months on the Enterprise and you'd never taken it before then, why this, why now?"
Spock raised his eyebrows at him. To be honest, if he'd just asked, instead of barreling in like a whirlwind of bad manners and tactlessness, Spock would have been a lot more amenable to discussing his request, but as it was, he was feeling the distinct urge to throttle him. Again. It was a very familiar urge.
"I don't believe that my personal business is any business of yours, Captain," Spock said evenly, pressing the tips of his fingers together before his face. "And your actions make me disinclined to elaborate further."
Kirk stopped. It was a credit to himself that he did, in fact, listen to Spock's words and more importantly, where they were coming from. He straightened up, tugged the end of his shirt in a somewhat-imitation of Spock's nervous habit, and nodded.
He turned around and walked out the door. Spock waited.
The door buzzed politely. "Come in," he called.
Kirk strode into the room, his own hands tucked behind his back and when he stood in front of Spock's desk, it was at attention. "Commander, I was surprised to learn that you'd requested shore leave on Bellatrix II. Can I make a 'personal inquiry' as to the reasoning behind your decision? For the sake of my insufferable curiosity."
Spock smirked at him. Much better. "Certainly, captain. I have received a transmission from the Bellatrix system that leads me to believe I will encounter several 'old friends', as the term may be, should I choose to descend planetside. I have applied for shore leave as a cautionary measure, should my visit exceed the acceptable bounds of mission deviation."
Kirk's eyes went wide. "Friends? You?"
The frosty tone was back in Spock's voice with a nearly audible snap. "Yes, Kirk, friends. I believe you're acquainted with the term?"
"Well yeah, but - "
"If you are meaning to insinuate that you did not believe me to be capable of forming bonds of friendship, I am happy to point out to you that the door is located right behind you." He glanced meaningfully back to the entrance of his room. Kirk opened his mouth to reply, but Spock cut him off. "Incidentally, you are well aware that I am capable of this, as I have on more than one occasion included yourself in that category. However," and Kirk was looking about ready to strangle him instead of the other way around, "If you continue to be brash and disrespectful I will have no illogical feelings of guilt at removing your name from said list. Do I make myself clear?"
Kirk looked ready to punch his lights out. Spock felt a swell of satisfaction. "Crystal," the Captain growled, and Spock smiled effortlessly.
"Then, I have a request."
Kirk rolled his eyes to the ceiling, exasperated. "Ask away, sir."
Spock had to admit that he enjoyed that - both the word and Kirk's frustration. "I would like to request that you accompany me on said shore leave to the Bellatrix system."
That got a reaction, and not anger this time, but something a little closer to shock. "You what?"
"I believe you heard me correctly. I would like you, James Tiberius Kirk, to accompany myself, S'chn T'gai Spock, to the planet of Bellatrix II on an expedition to relax, enjoy ourselves, and greet old friends. I am not the only one McCoy has demanded of to take shore leave."
Kirk looked like he was thinking about this, really thinking. "...Why?"
Spock cocked an eyebrow. "Your powers of deduction are waning, Captain. I believe I did just infer that I counted you as one of my... admittedly few friends." Their eyes locked, and Spock let Kirk see that that much, at least, was true. "I do not dislike your company."
Kirk sat down hard in the chair across the desk, legs and arms flopping about gracelessly. For once, Spock did not comment on it. "...What about Uhura?"
"Nyota Uhura has many fine qualities, all of which I appreciate and honor deeply." There was a long, awkward pause. "None of those include a proficiency in hand-to-hand combat."
Ah. So that's what it was. The meaning hung between them, as comprehension dawned on Kirk's face. "You're expecting trouble?"
He inclined his head, and raised an eyebrow. "I have not seen them since I joined Starfleet. Their reappearance here is... somewhat troubling, from a political standpoint."
He wasn't about to elaborate, but Kirk seemed to get the drift. "Gotcha. All right, let's go. I've got your back."
Spock let a tiny hint of a real smile prick the corners of his lips. "I know. And I am grateful."
•
"Wait. You never told me she was coming, too!"
Spock's lips tightened, and he ignored the way Kirk was trying to assert his manly dominance by 'getting up in his face', as the Earth phrase would have been. "I never said she wasn't. You inferred, from my explanation of the circumstances under which I was inviting you - "
"Yeah, you made it sound like you were taking me instead of her, and now - "
Spock looked up at him now, and barest flush of green under his skin and the spark in his eyes betrayed just how livid he was. "You will cease speaking of Nyota. She is your communications officer and, I believe, your friend. You are rude and, quite frankly, this outburst is uncalled for. It's childish and upsetting." He looked away quickly, from blue eyes as stubborn as his own. "I do not understand the reasoning behind your anger. I am, as you are well aware, currently involved in a romantic relationship with Lieutenant Uhura. It is only logical that I should invite her to - "
He broke off speaking, as the object of their argument drew nearer, smiling effortlessly. "Are you ready?" Whether she noticed the tension between them or not, she ignored it, and headed past to the telepad.
Spock and Kirk glared at each other for a long moment, then Spock leaned close to whisper in his ear. "In truth, I had not intended to bring her when I spoke with you, but I found it difficult to think of a logical reason to deny her once the subject was broached."
Kirk cocked an eyebrow at him. "You don't want her to get hurt, right? That's a reason."
"That is illogical." He moved away, the tint of anger fading and his face assuming its natural impassivity. He stood on the telepad between Kirk and Uhura, cocked his head to the side, then nodded. "Mr. Scott, whenever you're ready."
White light spun around them, and within seconds, they were materializing in the receiving hall of the Bellatrix tourist facilities, bombarded with light, and sound, and color.
•
"You know, I gotta say, Spock, this is the last place I'd expect to find friends of yours."
Bellatrix II, better known as The Dark Lady, was the only outside-serving planet in the Orion sector - and while everyone knew it to be a den of sin and wild pleasure run and funded by the Orion System, it didn't stop law-abiding Federation citizens from pouring out their money and letting the rules fall to the wayside in exchange for an unforgettable experience. Starfleet maintained tentative negotiations, mostly to be sure none of the well-meaning tourists were killed because of conflicts that weren't theirs, but all the same, it was better to be incognito. Many of the native Orions and Orion System traders and operators had a hard eye for Starfleet personnel, and it was difficult to uphold the law when Bellatrix itself existed in defiance of it. Any officer choosing to spend his time there took the pleasure at his own risk.
As such, all three had discarded their Starfleet uniforms for the occasion, and what an occasion it was - for Spock to be wearing casual clothing, which he declined to wear even for casual crew events on the Enterprise. His shirt was a form-fitting turtleneck of a green so deep it appeared black, pants black shot with silver that hugged his hips and he had donned gloves, in black leather, to protect his sensitive hands from contamination. Kirk had seen him in the gloves before, but not the whole ensemble, not like this, and damn if he wasn't fine.
And speaking of fine, Uhura had procured a lacy red shirt to show off her cleavage - what there was of it, and while Kirk enjoyed ribbing her because she was pretty and smart, he was definitely more of curve fan - and a swinging denim skirt, once again accentuating curves she barely had. It was a very attractive image, indeed, but a) Kirk knew he'd be punched by both Spock AND Uhura if he so much as spared an extra glance at her, and b) he was having too much difficulty looking away from Spock's hands to violate letter a. Damn. Even over the pulsing beat of the music, he could hear the faint creak of the leather as Spock curled his hand around a glass of Pyrellian ginger tea to bring it to his lips.
That was when Kirk ordered his first drink.
Two stardrifters and a silken sunrise later, and he was pretty sure this was a bad idea. Spock was still devastatingly gorgeous, and he just seemed to get more so, as he got tenser and tenser and more protective of his girlfriend. He had already had to tell three very attractive Argelians and one Betazoid that she was, in fact, taken. Kirk watched the tension growing between them, and while it was very interesting during his first drink, by the time he got to the second it was ticking him off. "Stop mooning, Spock, and either dance with her or let her go. Got it?"
Both of them shot him piercing looks, but Uhura's had a note of gratitude in it, and Spock was merely frustrated. "I can't allow myself to be distracted," he muttered, but no one was paying any attention to him, and when the next hopeful sidled up to proposition the beautiful human girl, she went without a second's thought.
Spock and Kirk moved closer together, on instinct. "Don't let it get'cha down, Spock." He smacked Spock on the back, probably a little harder than he should've, he wasn't quite watching his strength. Damn Vulcan bastard probably didn't even feel it.
"Don't touch me," however, was Spock's response, and that was the end of their conversation.
He wasn't drunk enough to be able to ignore him. He was just drunk enough, though, to think that if this level of alcohol content wasn't doing the trick, then maybe Romulan ale would.
That was when he saw them. Them. Filtering out on the dias above the dance floor, all green skin and black hair and wicked, wicked curves, and Kirk's jaw slowly fell open until you'd have to scrape it off the floor with a spatula.
He barely even heard the noise behind him, and if it had registered at all, he'd've been surprised at the pure levels of disgust and hatred directed at him. "It figures," Spock's voice snarled softly, and then he was getting up, his gloves creaking and that got Kirk's attention.
"Hey, wait, where are you going?"
"Out," Spock returned in icy tones. "For some fresh air. It would do you good as well."
"And miss the show?" Kirk's eyebrows were halfway up his forehead. "You have got to be kidding me."
"Suit yourself," he hissed, and if Kirk wasn't three drinks too far gone, he would have thought long and hard about the way Spock's lip curled as he said it.
And then he was gone, lost in the crowd, and Kirk felt a shudder at the memory of the sound of those gloves. He turned back to watch the dancers, and maybe it was the drinks, the music, or something in the air, but he was throbbing with energy and Spock's displeasure only made him want to rebel more.
He knocked back the last of his drink, and headed for the dance floor.
•
"Kirk?"
"Uhura," Kirk purred, shit-eating grin firmly in place. "Why don't you lose this guy, let's dance."
"Where did Spock go?"
"SPOCK?" Kirk threw a hand up, and pretended he couldn't hear her over the music, which was a big fat lie. "I dunno! Who fucking cares, right?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not dancing with you!"
"-YET!" He made a grab for her shoulder. This was odd. His entire body felt funny - and not drunk-funny, more like... going-to-laid-funny? Oh, that wasn't funny at all. It was so hot in here.
"Hey, hands off!" It wasn't the guy who'd pulled her onto the dance floor, and the thought that she'd danced with TWO guys that he didn't know (or more, fuck, how much time had passed?) made his blood boil in his veins.
"No, you fuck off, I know this girl and no one fucks with her, you got that?"
He was about to spell out exactly why, probably mentioning something about her big pretty eyes, when a sudden shove at his back sent him catapulting straight into the chest of the big guy he'd been arguing with. Who, as it just so happened, was Klingon. Great.
"Watch it!" he snarled behind him and moved just in time to duck the first punch, grinning as he heard it connect with whoever had pushed him. Heh, serves him right, that bastard. No one messes with Jim Kirk.
Then, unexpectedly, he heard a howl of pain that was definitely Klingon - and there was a slow snapping sound, as his bone fractured. "Pick on someone your own size," a measured, calculated voice hissed and for a moment, Kirk would've sworn that it was Spock.
Only it wasn't Spock, because Spock wasn't stupid enough to break a Klingon's arm in the middle of a dance floor on The Dark Lady.
There was a feral yell, and suddenly, it was looking a lot less like a dance floor and a lot more like a war zone.
A hand shot out and grabbed him tight around the wrist, and Kirk just couldn't help thinking that Vulcan strength really was a godsend, hey, remember that time, on the bridge -
But it wasn't Spock, and it might have been a Vulcan, but Kirk knew better than that.
His face was thin and pointed (like Spock's), and his ears did that pointy thing (like Spock's), and his eyebrows were swoopy and his hair cut in a razor-precise line across his forehead (also like Spock). So really, it wasn't any surprise that he thought it was a Vulcan, when he added that to the inhuman strength curling around his wrist.
But Vulcans didn't have rows of silver rings marching up their ears, or long dreadlocks in a thick ponytail, or studded gloves that dug cool metal into his skin.
No, whatever this was, it wasn't a Vulcan.
But it was definitely hot.
•
Spock found them in hall, Uhura trying her best to both hold Kirk up and keep him from groping her. It wasn't working too well on either count. She looked up at Spock with a pleading expression and he sprang into action quickly, pinching his neck and catching him up under the other arm. Uhura breathed a sigh of relief, and ran a hand through her hair. "I thought Doctor McCoy gave him an olfactory neutralizer?"
"Clearly, it isn't working." Spock's voice was tight with a barely-repressed emotion that was difficult to ascertain. "Send a message back to the Enterprise, tell them we need McCoy down here with a full set of neutralizers and body purifiers. What happened?"
Uhura sighed. She wasn't sure if she wanted to get into it, but it was only fair. "He pissed off a Klingon I was dancing with - "
"You were dancing with a Klingon?"
And that, that was why she hadn't wanted to talk about it. "He was a good dancer. That's not the point. They were only going at it verbally when someone knocked him forward, and they started fighting. Actually, the whole dance floor started fighting. It was hell."
"And you got him out?" Kirk's legs went bump-bump-bump-bump as they dragged him up a flight of stairs.
"Well, not exactly." He was starting to come around. "There was someone else... the guy who bumped him in the first place, I think - grabbed his wrist and dragged him off. I could barely keep up but when I got to the hallway, he was gone, and Kirk was half-crazy from the Orion pheromones."
Spock's hands tightened in a sudden display of irrational emotion. He classified it as being jealous of other men fighting over Uhura, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he was lying to himself.
"Guys, I can hear you... why are you taking me away, it's not fair... soooo not fair..."
He quickly keyed into their guest room, banging his knuckles on the doorframe in his haste to be done with this. "Jim, you really have the worst timing in the galaxy, did you know that?"
"That's not what the ladies say..."
They tossed him onto the bed, which he seemed clearly glad to do, and his back arched sharply as he made a noise that Spock could only classify as pleasured. His own back stiffened slightly, and he locked his hands behind his back. "Perhaps it might be better if you left the room, Nyota. He does not seem to be able to discriminate race very easily at this point."
"Got it. I'll be back with McCoy as fast as I can."
The door clicked behind her, and Spock sighed, his eyes turning to the ceiling. What did he do to deserve this?
"Those green ladies were... really pretty..."
He focused on what he convinced himself was a particularly interesting crack in the ceiling. "So I gathered. Jim, those were Orion slave women. I would be very surprised if you hadn't heard of them."
"I've slept with 'em. One. Only she wasn't a slave. She was Uhura's roommate! You had to have known her."
An unexpected expression passed over Spock's face, and he was glad Kirk wasn't paying attention. "...Gaila?"
"Yeah, her. Oh my god, what a girl."
Spock felt... interesting. He was feeling a mix of emotions that he did not care to either admit to or define, and as such he pushed them away with Vulcan force. "So it has been said."
"Hell yeah. She even told me she loved me, once, the day before... fuck..." Kirk's expression caved and flattened, and he threw an arm up over his face. "Fuck, she was probably bullshitting but she said she loved me, and now she's dead."
An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Spock shifted his weight from foot to foot minutely, until he coaxed enough saliva to his mouth to resume the function of speech. "I am assuming, then, that you did not only sleep with her once."
"Heck no." He grinned under his arm, and his body shifted on the unattractive green bedspread. "God, we did it everywhere."
Spock's solitary focus had moved from the crack in the ceiling to a hitch in the pattern of the carpet. It was unnerving and he wished he could correct it. "If I may offer some information, I believe you were the only one she ever slept with on multiple occasions. She spoke of you often, though without names. It was... with apparent fondness. It was her opinion that you were the... most attractive and sexually interesting of her many conquests."
Another silence, and then Kirk chuckled. "Man, way to make me feel even worse."
"I'm sorry?" Spock raised his eyebrows. "I was under the impression that this would be a comforting thought to hear."
The clean air of the hotel room was starting to cleanse Kirk of his pheromone-induced urge to bang anything that moved, though not his natural one. "She said 'I think I love you,' and the only thing I could say was, 'that's so weird'."
Spock's lips moved in an undeniable twitch. "'That's so weird'? Really, Jim? I thought you were the expert when it came to the female sex."
Sex! He liked that word. "Look, I'm not used to girls getting all schmoopy on me, least of all Gaila. How many other guys did she say that to? How many had she shacked up with that week? Of course it was weird. It was beyond weird."
Spock's lips curved. "I believe that it had been several months since Nyota became frustrated with her predatory habits. If, as you say, you 'did it everywhere', it was likely to avoid confrontation with her roommate. This also coincides with the time she began speaking of you in such high regard."
"Wait." Kirk pushed himself to a sitting position, and tried to get his eyes to focus. "Wait. Are you saying Gaila didn't sleep with anyone else after we started banging?"
"As vulgar as your terminology is, yes, that seems to be the case. I have no facts with which to prove this, but it is my experience that girls do usually mean it when they say 'I love you'."
"Oh, and you're so familiar with the subject." Kirk rolled his eyes, he was more or less trying to get the conversation off of him and his own reaction to the news that Gaila might have been serious.
"I am. There were a number of girls who chose to confess to me; most often while I was their teacher. It was highly inappropriate and unreciprocated, but I found they generally meant what they said." He did not bring up the subject of Uhura. Kirk, for once in his life, decided it was one topic probably better left alone. He changed the subject.
"By the way, do any of your Vulcan buddies have dreadlocks?"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, nothing really. The guy who dragged me out of the fight, damn, he looked just like you, only not as pretty, and he had a grip like an airlock and dreadlocks down his back. Fuck." Kirk winced and rubbed at his eyes. Maybe he wasn't quite as over it as he thought.
And as such, he missed the widening in Spock's eyes, the way his mouth fell open just a little. "......Let's go," he said suddenly, his voice terse and short.
"What?"
"We're going back down there." He straightened his shirt and pulled his gloves down, immediately drawing Kirk's attention for a split second.
"I thought you wanted me to wait for Bones. Isn't he going to stick me with something awful again?" He pushed off the bed, running a hand through his hair. "God, remind me not to order stardrifters anymore. I feel sick."
"You'll get over it," Spock muttered, and he grabbed Kirk by the elbow to tug him towards the door. "Or I'll make you wish you had."
→ Fixing a Hole
Kirk burst into Spock's room, without knocking, as usual.
"You're requesting shore leave?!"
Spock gave him a Look. "I believe it is within my rights to do so, and has, in fact, been encouraged by our ship's physician on multiple occasions."
He slapped his hands down on the desk, just short of slamming, and leaned all his weight onto them, so he could make a big show of looking deep into Spock's eyes. "You never take shore leave. Never ever. You haven't taken shore leave in six months on the Enterprise and you'd never taken it before then, why this, why now?"
Spock raised his eyebrows at him. To be honest, if he'd just asked, instead of barreling in like a whirlwind of bad manners and tactlessness, Spock would have been a lot more amenable to discussing his request, but as it was, he was feeling the distinct urge to throttle him. Again. It was a very familiar urge.
"I don't believe that my personal business is any business of yours, Captain," Spock said evenly, pressing the tips of his fingers together before his face. "And your actions make me disinclined to elaborate further."
Kirk stopped. It was a credit to himself that he did, in fact, listen to Spock's words and more importantly, where they were coming from. He straightened up, tugged the end of his shirt in a somewhat-imitation of Spock's nervous habit, and nodded.
He turned around and walked out the door. Spock waited.
The door buzzed politely. "Come in," he called.
Kirk strode into the room, his own hands tucked behind his back and when he stood in front of Spock's desk, it was at attention. "Commander, I was surprised to learn that you'd requested shore leave on Bellatrix II. Can I make a 'personal inquiry' as to the reasoning behind your decision? For the sake of my insufferable curiosity."
Spock smirked at him. Much better. "Certainly, captain. I have received a transmission from the Bellatrix system that leads me to believe I will encounter several 'old friends', as the term may be, should I choose to descend planetside. I have applied for shore leave as a cautionary measure, should my visit exceed the acceptable bounds of mission deviation."
Kirk's eyes went wide. "Friends? You?"
The frosty tone was back in Spock's voice with a nearly audible snap. "Yes, Kirk, friends. I believe you're acquainted with the term?"
"Well yeah, but - "
"If you are meaning to insinuate that you did not believe me to be capable of forming bonds of friendship, I am happy to point out to you that the door is located right behind you." He glanced meaningfully back to the entrance of his room. Kirk opened his mouth to reply, but Spock cut him off. "Incidentally, you are well aware that I am capable of this, as I have on more than one occasion included yourself in that category. However," and Kirk was looking about ready to strangle him instead of the other way around, "If you continue to be brash and disrespectful I will have no illogical feelings of guilt at removing your name from said list. Do I make myself clear?"
Kirk looked ready to punch his lights out. Spock felt a swell of satisfaction. "Crystal," the Captain growled, and Spock smiled effortlessly.
"Then, I have a request."
Kirk rolled his eyes to the ceiling, exasperated. "Ask away, sir."
Spock had to admit that he enjoyed that - both the word and Kirk's frustration. "I would like to request that you accompany me on said shore leave to the Bellatrix system."
That got a reaction, and not anger this time, but something a little closer to shock. "You what?"
"I believe you heard me correctly. I would like you, James Tiberius Kirk, to accompany myself, S'chn T'gai Spock, to the planet of Bellatrix II on an expedition to relax, enjoy ourselves, and greet old friends. I am not the only one McCoy has demanded of to take shore leave."
Kirk looked like he was thinking about this, really thinking. "...Why?"
Spock cocked an eyebrow. "Your powers of deduction are waning, Captain. I believe I did just infer that I counted you as one of my... admittedly few friends." Their eyes locked, and Spock let Kirk see that that much, at least, was true. "I do not dislike your company."
Kirk sat down hard in the chair across the desk, legs and arms flopping about gracelessly. For once, Spock did not comment on it. "...What about Uhura?"
"Nyota Uhura has many fine qualities, all of which I appreciate and honor deeply." There was a long, awkward pause. "None of those include a proficiency in hand-to-hand combat."
Ah. So that's what it was. The meaning hung between them, as comprehension dawned on Kirk's face. "You're expecting trouble?"
He inclined his head, and raised an eyebrow. "I have not seen them since I joined Starfleet. Their reappearance here is... somewhat troubling, from a political standpoint."
He wasn't about to elaborate, but Kirk seemed to get the drift. "Gotcha. All right, let's go. I've got your back."
Spock let a tiny hint of a real smile prick the corners of his lips. "I know. And I am grateful."
•
"Wait. You never told me she was coming, too!"
Spock's lips tightened, and he ignored the way Kirk was trying to assert his manly dominance by 'getting up in his face', as the Earth phrase would have been. "I never said she wasn't. You inferred, from my explanation of the circumstances under which I was inviting you - "
"Yeah, you made it sound like you were taking me instead of her, and now - "
Spock looked up at him now, and barest flush of green under his skin and the spark in his eyes betrayed just how livid he was. "You will cease speaking of Nyota. She is your communications officer and, I believe, your friend. You are rude and, quite frankly, this outburst is uncalled for. It's childish and upsetting." He looked away quickly, from blue eyes as stubborn as his own. "I do not understand the reasoning behind your anger. I am, as you are well aware, currently involved in a romantic relationship with Lieutenant Uhura. It is only logical that I should invite her to - "
He broke off speaking, as the object of their argument drew nearer, smiling effortlessly. "Are you ready?" Whether she noticed the tension between them or not, she ignored it, and headed past to the telepad.
Spock and Kirk glared at each other for a long moment, then Spock leaned close to whisper in his ear. "In truth, I had not intended to bring her when I spoke with you, but I found it difficult to think of a logical reason to deny her once the subject was broached."
Kirk cocked an eyebrow at him. "You don't want her to get hurt, right? That's a reason."
"That is illogical." He moved away, the tint of anger fading and his face assuming its natural impassivity. He stood on the telepad between Kirk and Uhura, cocked his head to the side, then nodded. "Mr. Scott, whenever you're ready."
White light spun around them, and within seconds, they were materializing in the receiving hall of the Bellatrix tourist facilities, bombarded with light, and sound, and color.
•
"You know, I gotta say, Spock, this is the last place I'd expect to find friends of yours."
Bellatrix II, better known as The Dark Lady, was the only outside-serving planet in the Orion sector - and while everyone knew it to be a den of sin and wild pleasure run and funded by the Orion System, it didn't stop law-abiding Federation citizens from pouring out their money and letting the rules fall to the wayside in exchange for an unforgettable experience. Starfleet maintained tentative negotiations, mostly to be sure none of the well-meaning tourists were killed because of conflicts that weren't theirs, but all the same, it was better to be incognito. Many of the native Orions and Orion System traders and operators had a hard eye for Starfleet personnel, and it was difficult to uphold the law when Bellatrix itself existed in defiance of it. Any officer choosing to spend his time there took the pleasure at his own risk.
As such, all three had discarded their Starfleet uniforms for the occasion, and what an occasion it was - for Spock to be wearing casual clothing, which he declined to wear even for casual crew events on the Enterprise. His shirt was a form-fitting turtleneck of a green so deep it appeared black, pants black shot with silver that hugged his hips and he had donned gloves, in black leather, to protect his sensitive hands from contamination. Kirk had seen him in the gloves before, but not the whole ensemble, not like this, and damn if he wasn't fine.
And speaking of fine, Uhura had procured a lacy red shirt to show off her cleavage - what there was of it, and while Kirk enjoyed ribbing her because she was pretty and smart, he was definitely more of curve fan - and a swinging denim skirt, once again accentuating curves she barely had. It was a very attractive image, indeed, but a) Kirk knew he'd be punched by both Spock AND Uhura if he so much as spared an extra glance at her, and b) he was having too much difficulty looking away from Spock's hands to violate letter a. Damn. Even over the pulsing beat of the music, he could hear the faint creak of the leather as Spock curled his hand around a glass of Pyrellian ginger tea to bring it to his lips.
That was when Kirk ordered his first drink.
Two stardrifters and a silken sunrise later, and he was pretty sure this was a bad idea. Spock was still devastatingly gorgeous, and he just seemed to get more so, as he got tenser and tenser and more protective of his girlfriend. He had already had to tell three very attractive Argelians and one Betazoid that she was, in fact, taken. Kirk watched the tension growing between them, and while it was very interesting during his first drink, by the time he got to the second it was ticking him off. "Stop mooning, Spock, and either dance with her or let her go. Got it?"
Both of them shot him piercing looks, but Uhura's had a note of gratitude in it, and Spock was merely frustrated. "I can't allow myself to be distracted," he muttered, but no one was paying any attention to him, and when the next hopeful sidled up to proposition the beautiful human girl, she went without a second's thought.
Spock and Kirk moved closer together, on instinct. "Don't let it get'cha down, Spock." He smacked Spock on the back, probably a little harder than he should've, he wasn't quite watching his strength. Damn Vulcan bastard probably didn't even feel it.
"Don't touch me," however, was Spock's response, and that was the end of their conversation.
He wasn't drunk enough to be able to ignore him. He was just drunk enough, though, to think that if this level of alcohol content wasn't doing the trick, then maybe Romulan ale would.
That was when he saw them. Them. Filtering out on the dias above the dance floor, all green skin and black hair and wicked, wicked curves, and Kirk's jaw slowly fell open until you'd have to scrape it off the floor with a spatula.
He barely even heard the noise behind him, and if it had registered at all, he'd've been surprised at the pure levels of disgust and hatred directed at him. "It figures," Spock's voice snarled softly, and then he was getting up, his gloves creaking and that got Kirk's attention.
"Hey, wait, where are you going?"
"Out," Spock returned in icy tones. "For some fresh air. It would do you good as well."
"And miss the show?" Kirk's eyebrows were halfway up his forehead. "You have got to be kidding me."
"Suit yourself," he hissed, and if Kirk wasn't three drinks too far gone, he would have thought long and hard about the way Spock's lip curled as he said it.
And then he was gone, lost in the crowd, and Kirk felt a shudder at the memory of the sound of those gloves. He turned back to watch the dancers, and maybe it was the drinks, the music, or something in the air, but he was throbbing with energy and Spock's displeasure only made him want to rebel more.
He knocked back the last of his drink, and headed for the dance floor.
•
"Kirk?"
"Uhura," Kirk purred, shit-eating grin firmly in place. "Why don't you lose this guy, let's dance."
"Where did Spock go?"
"SPOCK?" Kirk threw a hand up, and pretended he couldn't hear her over the music, which was a big fat lie. "I dunno! Who fucking cares, right?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not dancing with you!"
"-YET!" He made a grab for her shoulder. This was odd. His entire body felt funny - and not drunk-funny, more like... going-to-laid-funny? Oh, that wasn't funny at all. It was so hot in here.
"Hey, hands off!" It wasn't the guy who'd pulled her onto the dance floor, and the thought that she'd danced with TWO guys that he didn't know (or more, fuck, how much time had passed?) made his blood boil in his veins.
"No, you fuck off, I know this girl and no one fucks with her, you got that?"
He was about to spell out exactly why, probably mentioning something about her big pretty eyes, when a sudden shove at his back sent him catapulting straight into the chest of the big guy he'd been arguing with. Who, as it just so happened, was Klingon. Great.
"Watch it!" he snarled behind him and moved just in time to duck the first punch, grinning as he heard it connect with whoever had pushed him. Heh, serves him right, that bastard. No one messes with Jim Kirk.
Then, unexpectedly, he heard a howl of pain that was definitely Klingon - and there was a slow snapping sound, as his bone fractured. "Pick on someone your own size," a measured, calculated voice hissed and for a moment, Kirk would've sworn that it was Spock.
Only it wasn't Spock, because Spock wasn't stupid enough to break a Klingon's arm in the middle of a dance floor on The Dark Lady.
There was a feral yell, and suddenly, it was looking a lot less like a dance floor and a lot more like a war zone.
A hand shot out and grabbed him tight around the wrist, and Kirk just couldn't help thinking that Vulcan strength really was a godsend, hey, remember that time, on the bridge -
But it wasn't Spock, and it might have been a Vulcan, but Kirk knew better than that.
His face was thin and pointed (like Spock's), and his ears did that pointy thing (like Spock's), and his eyebrows were swoopy and his hair cut in a razor-precise line across his forehead (also like Spock). So really, it wasn't any surprise that he thought it was a Vulcan, when he added that to the inhuman strength curling around his wrist.
But Vulcans didn't have rows of silver rings marching up their ears, or long dreadlocks in a thick ponytail, or studded gloves that dug cool metal into his skin.
No, whatever this was, it wasn't a Vulcan.
But it was definitely hot.
•
Spock found them in hall, Uhura trying her best to both hold Kirk up and keep him from groping her. It wasn't working too well on either count. She looked up at Spock with a pleading expression and he sprang into action quickly, pinching his neck and catching him up under the other arm. Uhura breathed a sigh of relief, and ran a hand through her hair. "I thought Doctor McCoy gave him an olfactory neutralizer?"
"Clearly, it isn't working." Spock's voice was tight with a barely-repressed emotion that was difficult to ascertain. "Send a message back to the Enterprise, tell them we need McCoy down here with a full set of neutralizers and body purifiers. What happened?"
Uhura sighed. She wasn't sure if she wanted to get into it, but it was only fair. "He pissed off a Klingon I was dancing with - "
"You were dancing with a Klingon?"
And that, that was why she hadn't wanted to talk about it. "He was a good dancer. That's not the point. They were only going at it verbally when someone knocked him forward, and they started fighting. Actually, the whole dance floor started fighting. It was hell."
"And you got him out?" Kirk's legs went bump-bump-bump-bump as they dragged him up a flight of stairs.
"Well, not exactly." He was starting to come around. "There was someone else... the guy who bumped him in the first place, I think - grabbed his wrist and dragged him off. I could barely keep up but when I got to the hallway, he was gone, and Kirk was half-crazy from the Orion pheromones."
Spock's hands tightened in a sudden display of irrational emotion. He classified it as being jealous of other men fighting over Uhura, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he was lying to himself.
"Guys, I can hear you... why are you taking me away, it's not fair... soooo not fair..."
He quickly keyed into their guest room, banging his knuckles on the doorframe in his haste to be done with this. "Jim, you really have the worst timing in the galaxy, did you know that?"
"That's not what the ladies say..."
They tossed him onto the bed, which he seemed clearly glad to do, and his back arched sharply as he made a noise that Spock could only classify as pleasured. His own back stiffened slightly, and he locked his hands behind his back. "Perhaps it might be better if you left the room, Nyota. He does not seem to be able to discriminate race very easily at this point."
"Got it. I'll be back with McCoy as fast as I can."
The door clicked behind her, and Spock sighed, his eyes turning to the ceiling. What did he do to deserve this?
"Those green ladies were... really pretty..."
He focused on what he convinced himself was a particularly interesting crack in the ceiling. "So I gathered. Jim, those were Orion slave women. I would be very surprised if you hadn't heard of them."
"I've slept with 'em. One. Only she wasn't a slave. She was Uhura's roommate! You had to have known her."
An unexpected expression passed over Spock's face, and he was glad Kirk wasn't paying attention. "...Gaila?"
"Yeah, her. Oh my god, what a girl."
Spock felt... interesting. He was feeling a mix of emotions that he did not care to either admit to or define, and as such he pushed them away with Vulcan force. "So it has been said."
"Hell yeah. She even told me she loved me, once, the day before... fuck..." Kirk's expression caved and flattened, and he threw an arm up over his face. "Fuck, she was probably bullshitting but she said she loved me, and now she's dead."
An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Spock shifted his weight from foot to foot minutely, until he coaxed enough saliva to his mouth to resume the function of speech. "I am assuming, then, that you did not only sleep with her once."
"Heck no." He grinned under his arm, and his body shifted on the unattractive green bedspread. "God, we did it everywhere."
Spock's solitary focus had moved from the crack in the ceiling to a hitch in the pattern of the carpet. It was unnerving and he wished he could correct it. "If I may offer some information, I believe you were the only one she ever slept with on multiple occasions. She spoke of you often, though without names. It was... with apparent fondness. It was her opinion that you were the... most attractive and sexually interesting of her many conquests."
Another silence, and then Kirk chuckled. "Man, way to make me feel even worse."
"I'm sorry?" Spock raised his eyebrows. "I was under the impression that this would be a comforting thought to hear."
The clean air of the hotel room was starting to cleanse Kirk of his pheromone-induced urge to bang anything that moved, though not his natural one. "She said 'I think I love you,' and the only thing I could say was, 'that's so weird'."
Spock's lips moved in an undeniable twitch. "'That's so weird'? Really, Jim? I thought you were the expert when it came to the female sex."
Sex! He liked that word. "Look, I'm not used to girls getting all schmoopy on me, least of all Gaila. How many other guys did she say that to? How many had she shacked up with that week? Of course it was weird. It was beyond weird."
Spock's lips curved. "I believe that it had been several months since Nyota became frustrated with her predatory habits. If, as you say, you 'did it everywhere', it was likely to avoid confrontation with her roommate. This also coincides with the time she began speaking of you in such high regard."
"Wait." Kirk pushed himself to a sitting position, and tried to get his eyes to focus. "Wait. Are you saying Gaila didn't sleep with anyone else after we started banging?"
"As vulgar as your terminology is, yes, that seems to be the case. I have no facts with which to prove this, but it is my experience that girls do usually mean it when they say 'I love you'."
"Oh, and you're so familiar with the subject." Kirk rolled his eyes, he was more or less trying to get the conversation off of him and his own reaction to the news that Gaila might have been serious.
"I am. There were a number of girls who chose to confess to me; most often while I was their teacher. It was highly inappropriate and unreciprocated, but I found they generally meant what they said." He did not bring up the subject of Uhura. Kirk, for once in his life, decided it was one topic probably better left alone. He changed the subject.
"By the way, do any of your Vulcan buddies have dreadlocks?"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, nothing really. The guy who dragged me out of the fight, damn, he looked just like you, only not as pretty, and he had a grip like an airlock and dreadlocks down his back. Fuck." Kirk winced and rubbed at his eyes. Maybe he wasn't quite as over it as he thought.
And as such, he missed the widening in Spock's eyes, the way his mouth fell open just a little. "......Let's go," he said suddenly, his voice terse and short.
"What?"
"We're going back down there." He straightened his shirt and pulled his gloves down, immediately drawing Kirk's attention for a split second.
"I thought you wanted me to wait for Bones. Isn't he going to stick me with something awful again?" He pushed off the bed, running a hand through his hair. "God, remind me not to order stardrifters anymore. I feel sick."
"You'll get over it," Spock muttered, and he grabbed Kirk by the elbow to tug him towards the door. "Or I'll make you wish you had."
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