Ficlet: Waterlogged
Title: Waterlogged
Author: Jaylee
Fandom: Reboot
Word count: 928
Summary: Written for the ever sweet ariadnechan using the prompt "cold in the rain" for my reading/reviewing challenge... 'He was in the doghouse. Again. Joy.'
Disclaimer: Do not own characters, no money being made, etc.
Special Thanks: to kianspo for the quick and fabulous beta work.
*****
Spock was pissed…. In that quiet Vulcan way. No words were exchanged, oh no, they weren’t needed, Jim knew full well what the eyebrow, raised at three-quarters mast (as opposed to one-quarter or even one-half) meant, especially combined with the gleam in those dark eyes that said, quite clearly, ‘you are not getting laid tonight’.
He was in the doghouse. Again. Joy.
If Spock had had his way, they would be onboard the Enterprise right now, forgoing shore leave for more loftier pursuits, like work, work and more work and not here, on a vacation hot-spot, getting waterlogged in freezing monsoon-like conditions on a planet of Jim’s choosing.
Jim was normally fully gung-ho about things aboard his ship running smoothly because its personnel gave it a hundred percent every shift, but the idea of wasting a perfectly good shore leave working was entirely unacceptable. And if he had taunted with ‘all work and no play makes Spock a very dull Vulcan’ who could blame him?
Evidently fate was punishing him, again, for being a wiseass (and perhaps, just maybe, for being a bit of a pushy partner, just a tad, mind… it was hard to turn being the Captain off, okay?). One of these days he’d learn when to put his foot in it. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been trying. Spock was the first relationship in his life that meant anything. He loved the obsessive compulsive Vulcan to an absolutely startling degree. Was a little relaxation and some one-on-one time really too much to ask?
Apparently it was.
The chances of him ever getting to pick a shore leave destination again were slim to null; in cases like these the fact that his lover had an eidetic memory really, really sucked. He was certain that this shore leave was going to be brought up from now right up until his death bed.
If there was one thing Spock hated most of all it was the cold. And the being wet on top of the cold probably wasn‘t helping Jim’s cause for leniency any.
"So, they didn’t mention this on the brochure. Casperia Prime is supposed to rival Risa when it comes to hospitable climate,” Jim announced, not trying to make up excuses or anything… okay, he was totally making excuses. His plans for the evening: which included he and Spock, sans clothing, feeding each other the planets equivalent of the strawberry, in a bed big enough for three or four people (he had spared no expense on their room, not caring about blowing through a small fortunate of credits in order to do so… the small single-sized beds on the Enterprise and months of he and Spock practically laying on top of each other in order to sleep together had been getting to him and his back… and his neck, and both of his sides and hey, apparently there were muscles in your ass that hurt if you slept on them the wrong way).
"However, unlike Risa, this planet does not have a weather control network to ensure that all of the planetary seasons remain optimal for travel,” Spock pointed out, quite logically, and to anyone else his tone would be bland, completely missing any sort of undertone. Jim knew better.
Translation from Spock to standard: “It would have been nice if you’d done a little research into which season it was before you brought us here, you gorgeously handsome stud of a boyfriend of mine (okay, okay, so perhaps the ‘gorgeously handsome stud of a boyfriend’ was a tiny bit of a creative license). Weren’t you in the top five percent of your class at the Academy? Three years of curriculum in four, wasn’t it? Hmmmm.’
It was the disappointed in his implication, regardless of tone, that affected Jim most of all. If it were anyone else, anyone at all, Jim wouldn’t have cared, would have laughed the whole thing off and made a crack about not being psychic therefore unable to predict the weather of Casperia Prime, but this was Spock. Spock, who worked hard and played little, so even getting him to take a holiday was a miracle of all miracles. Spock, whom it had taken months of Jim’s best efforts to get to open up and be himself around him early on in their five year mission. Spock, whose opinion meant more to Jim than anything else.
Having Spock upset with him made him feel awful.
Jim felt his shoulders slump, completely involuntarily, and his eyes lower to the puddle laden ground.
"I wanted to show you a good time. I thought if you saw how much fun taking a break every once in awhile could be that we could have more shore leave excursions like this. You work so hard, we both do, I figured we were due a little relaxation,” he said, eyeing a pebble on the ground that he was seconds away from kicking with all of his pent-up frustration.
The touch of surprisingly warm fingers shocked him into looking up instead, Spock’s brown eyes thoughtful and apologetic. “There is no reason we can not still engage in some… relaxation. I am positive that the room you have procured for the duration of our stay will be more than adequate to accomplish this task. We need not venture out again at all,” Spock amended, his eyebrow raised at two-thirds mast, which meant… oh. Awesome.
Jim absolutely loved the weather on Casperia Prime this time of year. He’d have to bring Spock here again sometime.
The End!
Author: Jaylee
Fandom: Reboot
Word count: 928
Summary: Written for the ever sweet ariadnechan using the prompt "cold in the rain" for my reading/reviewing challenge... 'He was in the doghouse. Again. Joy.'
Disclaimer: Do not own characters, no money being made, etc.
Special Thanks: to kianspo for the quick and fabulous beta work.
*****
Spock was pissed…. In that quiet Vulcan way. No words were exchanged, oh no, they weren’t needed, Jim knew full well what the eyebrow, raised at three-quarters mast (as opposed to one-quarter or even one-half) meant, especially combined with the gleam in those dark eyes that said, quite clearly, ‘you are not getting laid tonight’.
He was in the doghouse. Again. Joy.
If Spock had had his way, they would be onboard the Enterprise right now, forgoing shore leave for more loftier pursuits, like work, work and more work and not here, on a vacation hot-spot, getting waterlogged in freezing monsoon-like conditions on a planet of Jim’s choosing.
Jim was normally fully gung-ho about things aboard his ship running smoothly because its personnel gave it a hundred percent every shift, but the idea of wasting a perfectly good shore leave working was entirely unacceptable. And if he had taunted with ‘all work and no play makes Spock a very dull Vulcan’ who could blame him?
Evidently fate was punishing him, again, for being a wiseass (and perhaps, just maybe, for being a bit of a pushy partner, just a tad, mind… it was hard to turn being the Captain off, okay?). One of these days he’d learn when to put his foot in it. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been trying. Spock was the first relationship in his life that meant anything. He loved the obsessive compulsive Vulcan to an absolutely startling degree. Was a little relaxation and some one-on-one time really too much to ask?
Apparently it was.
The chances of him ever getting to pick a shore leave destination again were slim to null; in cases like these the fact that his lover had an eidetic memory really, really sucked. He was certain that this shore leave was going to be brought up from now right up until his death bed.
If there was one thing Spock hated most of all it was the cold. And the being wet on top of the cold probably wasn‘t helping Jim’s cause for leniency any.
"So, they didn’t mention this on the brochure. Casperia Prime is supposed to rival Risa when it comes to hospitable climate,” Jim announced, not trying to make up excuses or anything… okay, he was totally making excuses. His plans for the evening: which included he and Spock, sans clothing, feeding each other the planets equivalent of the strawberry, in a bed big enough for three or four people (he had spared no expense on their room, not caring about blowing through a small fortunate of credits in order to do so… the small single-sized beds on the Enterprise and months of he and Spock practically laying on top of each other in order to sleep together had been getting to him and his back… and his neck, and both of his sides and hey, apparently there were muscles in your ass that hurt if you slept on them the wrong way).
"However, unlike Risa, this planet does not have a weather control network to ensure that all of the planetary seasons remain optimal for travel,” Spock pointed out, quite logically, and to anyone else his tone would be bland, completely missing any sort of undertone. Jim knew better.
Translation from Spock to standard: “It would have been nice if you’d done a little research into which season it was before you brought us here, you gorgeously handsome stud of a boyfriend of mine (okay, okay, so perhaps the ‘gorgeously handsome stud of a boyfriend’ was a tiny bit of a creative license). Weren’t you in the top five percent of your class at the Academy? Three years of curriculum in four, wasn’t it? Hmmmm.’
It was the disappointed in his implication, regardless of tone, that affected Jim most of all. If it were anyone else, anyone at all, Jim wouldn’t have cared, would have laughed the whole thing off and made a crack about not being psychic therefore unable to predict the weather of Casperia Prime, but this was Spock. Spock, who worked hard and played little, so even getting him to take a holiday was a miracle of all miracles. Spock, whom it had taken months of Jim’s best efforts to get to open up and be himself around him early on in their five year mission. Spock, whose opinion meant more to Jim than anything else.
Having Spock upset with him made him feel awful.
Jim felt his shoulders slump, completely involuntarily, and his eyes lower to the puddle laden ground.
"I wanted to show you a good time. I thought if you saw how much fun taking a break every once in awhile could be that we could have more shore leave excursions like this. You work so hard, we both do, I figured we were due a little relaxation,” he said, eyeing a pebble on the ground that he was seconds away from kicking with all of his pent-up frustration.
The touch of surprisingly warm fingers shocked him into looking up instead, Spock’s brown eyes thoughtful and apologetic. “There is no reason we can not still engage in some… relaxation. I am positive that the room you have procured for the duration of our stay will be more than adequate to accomplish this task. We need not venture out again at all,” Spock amended, his eyebrow raised at two-thirds mast, which meant… oh. Awesome.
Jim absolutely loved the weather on Casperia Prime this time of year. He’d have to bring Spock here again sometime.
The End!