Jim started noticing little things that were just off about the other’s behavior. At first it was just the odd lapse in concentration, the inability to finish his thought. Strange enough considering the source, but nothing extreme, or even very untoward. And really, Jim doubted that anyone but himself noticed it at all. So he didn’t say a word about it, just kept an eye on the situation.
It was on one of his nocturnal
haunts around his ship that Jim spotted the other doing the same, though
obviously not for the same reason. After about a year on
The signs of insomnia didn’t show for another couple of weeks and by then Jim had started to notice a distinct weight loss. The already slender man didn’t have the weight to spare, either. He didn’t want to bring it to McCoy’s attention, so finally, Jim decided to ask the man himself what was going on in as unthreatening a situation as he could arrange.
“Handball, Captain?” Spock repeated, his eyebrow lifting.
Nodding, Jim replied easily, “We’re getting flabby, Spock, time to get a good, old-fashioned workout.”
The eyebrow lowered, but not in approval of the comment, Jim knew without being told.
“I am afraid that my duties…”
“Will have to wait. Join me for a game of handball, Spock.”
Spock’s jaw flexed as he restrained whatever comment he clearly wanted to make about the order, but all he said was, “Yes, Captain.”
The fact that Spock had showed any sign of his irritation, especially in public, was enough to put Jim on alert that there really was something going on. “After shift then. I’ll see you at eighteen hundred.”
“I will be there,” Spock confirmed, turning back to his station.
Jim hid a grin at the dismissal and continued to his chair in the center of the bridge. They were on an easy escort duty of two freighters filled with supplies for outlying colonies so the shift passed quietly with the ship’s business occupying most of his time. When he took a lunch break, Spock didn’t join him, but that didn’t surprise him. He knew that Spock knew Jim was onto him, no matter what the situation was, and would be avoiding him wherever possible.
Fortunately, Jim could out-stubborn a Vulcan with one hand tied behind his back.
He met up with Spock in the gym and they changed in silence, the Vulcan’s irritation nearly palpable. Something about that famous control was definitely slipping and Jim briefly pondered the wisdom of taking on a Vulcan in physical combat, even one weakened by lack of sleep and food. Shrugging it off, he slapped Spock on the shoulder and prompted, “Ready to go?”
Lips thin with displeasure,
Spock nodded and they went into the smallish court. Jim picked up a ball and
tugged on his gloves on the way in. Spock didn’t wear gloves and he wondered if
Vulcans really were impervious to pain like that, or
if Spock was just too pissed off to care, looking for an outlet. Something else that Jim was looking to provide with this game.
It was obvious that with Uhura off the
“You start,” Jim offered.
Spock’s lips twitched, although it could hardly be called a smile or a grimace, but he did. The next few minutes went by lightening fast, the ball moving with a force that had Jim wincing even with the gloves. He lost the first point, slamming into the wall and missing the ball.
Tossing Spock a feral grin of his own, Jim said, “You’re still up.”
The game went by faster than Jim could have imagined, pure physicality at its best. They ran into each other and the wall several times before it was over, but all he could do was follow the ball and strike as often as he could, racking up points almost as frequently as Spock. It seemed they were tied for a long time before Jim managed at last to hit it just right to elude the Vulcan.
Spock unexpectedly dove for it at the last second, crashing into Jim and sending them both to the smooth floor. Jim grunted under his weight, the air driven from him at the impact. They were both breathing heavy and with his body on alert from the game, it was only a few seconds before it decided to use the adrenaline for something other than sport. Looking up into Spock’s eyes, Jim waited tensely for a reaction and was startled when the Vulcan only rested on his elbows to return the stare, breathing deeply.
“Uh, Spock?” Jim curiously prompted.
That broke through whatever fog surrounded the Vulcan. Spock jerked back, eyes going wide, startled, and then he swiftly rolled to his feet. Jim stood more cautiously, hissing at the many bruises now adorning his body.
“I am sorry, Jim.”
Glancing over at Spock in surprise, Jim asked, “What for?”
Spock made a vague gesture to the room itself as he replied, “Losing control. Subjecting you to…improper behavior.”
Jim closed the distance between them and stood right next to him. “No apology necessary. I brought you here to try and break through to you, to find out what’s going on with you.”
This time, Spock’s lips did form a smile, however brief. The Vulcan said, “I thought you had noticed.”
“Hard not to,” Jim agreed complacently. “You’re kinda my other half here, Spock.”
For some reason that had Spock stepping back a step, shaking his head. “You are not, Jim, and that is partly the problem.”
Jim frowned and requested, “Explain.”
Spock let out a brief sigh and then requested, “May we clean up and talk over dinner, in private?”
Since he’d gotten what he wanted, Jim relented with a nod. “I’ll see you there.”
“Thank you, Jim,” Spock said quietly.
Jim lightly touched Spock’s shoulder and replied, “Whatever you need, Spock, I’m here for you.”
That almost-smile returned, but Spock remained silent as he left the game room.
Watching him go, Jim wondered if he’d just opened a can of worms.
* * * *
Spock looked at his reflection in the mirror in his quarters and knew what Jim saw; a man who’d lost weight, had circles under his eyes from insomnia, and who had lost precious control over himself. As much as he wanted to deny it, he couldn’t any longer. He blamed the irrational human side for putting it off as long as he had.
Pon
Farr. The propagation cycle. It interfered with
everything until nothing else was real except the need to mate. He hadn’t, at
first, realized what was happening. Not until Nyota
had been off
The problem now lay in Spock.
He had severed the connection with T’Pring three
years ago, once he and Nyota had formed a lasting
emotional connection. She had been as angry as he’d ever seen a Vulcan woman
become but, with his parents’ full support, she hadn’t
had a choice in the matter. He couldn’t ask for the
Decision made, Spock left his quarters for the dining alcove he, Jim, and McCoy often shared. It was part of the larger dining hall, but a half-wall gave them privacy from the rest of the crew. There were no tables near enough for anyone to hear what was said unless they were really trying and had artificial aid. Thankfully, the doctor was absent when he arrived so he sat across from the captain, who already had his plate of food. The smell was nauseating, but Spock took shallow breaths through his mouth to compensate.
“Not eating?” Jim questioned.
Spock shook his head. “I can not.”
“Okay. Why not?”
Spock paused for a moment
before slowly saying, “Vulcan physiology differs from human physiology greatly
in some aspects. I am currently undergoing a cycle that requires things I do
not have aboard
Jim put his fork down and said, “Tell me what it is and we’ll get it.”
“Nyota,” Spock replied simply.
Jim blinked at him a few times. “Excuse me?”
Spock gazed at him until Jim flushed, understanding flashing over his face as his eyes lowered to the table.
“Oh. That kind of cycle,” Jim murmured.
Spock confirmed, “Indeed.”
After a long silence, Jim
looked at him again and said, “We’ll turn
“Jim, we can not…”
“We can and will,” Jim stated flatly. “We’re almost there anyhow, it’s not like they’ll run into trouble.”
Spock countered, “And if they do? There are reports of marauders in this region, the reason that we were chosen to accompany the ships in the first place.”
Jim made a face. “Fine. We’ll increase to top speed and then book it back to Earth once they’re settled. We can be done in a couple of days and back in a week. Can you hold on for that long?”
While he had no doubt of Jim’s loyalty and willingness to flout Starfleet Command by doing just that, Spock wouldn’t allow him to throw away his career. Not for him. “I have an alternative. Dr. McCoy can sedate me, put me into a coma, until you gain leave to return to Earth. That way the symptoms are arrested and there is no strain placed upon anyone.”
“Oh no, no strain to anyone,” Jim retorted, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
Spock flinched and asked quietly, “What would you have me do? I can not let you disobey orders for this, Jim.”
Reaching across the table, Jim gripped Spock’s forearm firmly and informed him, “Admiral Pike won’t let it be disobeying orders. Not to mention, if anything happens to you, Vulcan wouldn’t be happy with Starfleet, would they?”
A point Spock had to concede. As often as he and his father still disagreed, the loss of him to Plak-tow of all things, a preventable death, would likely cause some kind of discord.
“Then it’s settled. We’re going to max warp and dam the torpedoes.”
Spock wanted to say ‘thank you,’ but could only feel the warm, heavy weight of Jim’s hand on his arm. He couldn’t look away, either, staring at the strong hand and knowing how many others it had touched. Yanking his thoughts back to an acceptable train of thought, Spock pulled his arm free and replied stiffly, “Thank you, Captain.”
Jim’s lips quirked briefly before he only said, “You might want to see Bones about sustenance. I don’t want you keeling over on the Bridge from hunger.”
Spock nodded acquiescence and stood. “I will do so now.”
Jim didn’t comment as he left, but Spock could again feel the weight of his gaze on his back as he walked away.
* * * *
Jim’s official policy on Spock and Uhura was that if it didn’t interfere in their duties, he didn’t care. Really, that was his policy on all shipboard romances. As long as everyone knew they would still have to work together if things went south and behaved like adults if it did, it was no one’s business who slept with whom. There were actually a few couples he knew of that seemed to be going full steam ahead, possibly all the way to marriage.
Privately, Jim still mentally squirmed thinking about Spock and Uhura as a couple. Uhura was a damn fine woman, no doubt about it, and matched Spock’s strength of will every step of the way. There was no reason that he should object to them being together, he just did. He certainly didn’t harbor any notion that he had a shot with her and hadn’t wanted one for a long time, if he was honest about it.
No, he’d come to the unwelcome realization that his primary interest in Uhura had merely been because she’d been unattainable at the time. And once he’d found out about her and Spock, well, she’d really become unattainable, but in a far more concrete way. Not that it was Uhura who occupied most of his thoughts these days.
Lifting his face to the hot water in his narrow shower, Jim hoped it would wake him up after the sleepless night he’d had. He’d never thought to be concerned with Spock’s health; the Vulcan seemed impervious to all but the worst of physical stresses. He’d assumed, probably along with the rest of mankind, that Vulcans had sex to make babies just like humans did, that they weren’t relegated to an actual, physical cycle for propagation.
Reluctantly facing facts, Jim knew he couldn’t put off talking to Bones about it if Spock hadn’t. He wondered if it would be better to ask Spock first and then decided that the Vulcan would either have brought it up himself or knew that Jim would do it for him. Either way, there needed to be a medical component to the rest of their mission. Someone needed to keep an eye on Spock and make sure he didn’t unravel. Jim didn’t want to sedate or put him in a coma, but if it protected the crew, there might not be a choice.
Jim dried off and walked over to the comm. station, pressing the button that connected him to the infirmary.
“McCoy here.”
“Bones, have you seen Spock in the last twelve hours?”
“Yeah. He came in for some IV nutrients last night and I scolded him for being an ascetic, why?”
“He didn’t talk to you about anything…unusual?”
“No. Why?”
Ignoring the testy tone, Jim sighed and said, “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“I’ll be here.”
It was closer to ten minutes before Jim got to the infirmary and gestured Bones towards the doctor’s office. The other man scowled at him, but left Nurse Chapel in charge and preceded him into the office, sitting behind the table. Jim closed the door and then took the seat on the other side.
“Well? Stop being so damn mysterious and spit it out!” McCoy ordered. “What’s going on with Spock?”
Brushing a hand over his head, Jim asked awkwardly, “You know about their, ah, mating cycle, right?”
Bones’ eyes widened, the other man clearly startled. “Spock’s gone into Pon Farr? Oh great. And Uhura’s not on board.”
Jim was glad the other man already knew about it, though of course he would; Bones was a walking encyclopedia for all things alien. He was surprised though, that he knew about Spock and Uhura. “When did you find out about them?”
Rolling his eyes, Bones informed him, “The only ones who didn’t know back at the Academy were you, because you were too busy chasing her around like a dog, and the faculty.”
“Gee. Thanks,” Jim retorted.
Bones smirked a little. “No problem. So what’s the plan? We’re rendezvousing with her somewhere?”
Jaw tightening in irritation, Jim shook his head and answered, “We’ve sped up to warp three point five, the fastest the other ships can go. We’ll escort them the rest of the way, which should only be another seven hours at this point, and then swing back towards Earth. I need to inform Admiral Pike about the change and reason. I’m sure he’ll be able to smooth over whatever feathers get ruffled because we can’t play at chaperone.”
Chuckling, Bones told him, “You’re just annoyed with all the easy jobs they’re tossing our way lately. Not enough adrenaline in your bloodstream anymore.”
Jim made a face. “Very funny.”
“I’ll be sure and talk to Spock sometime today to go over his symptoms,” Bones said.
Jim hesitated, then asked, “Can you just keep an eye on him? It seemed like a very private thing to him when we talked.”
Bones thought for a second and then nodded. “Should be able to, yeah. I may be on the bridge more often than usual, though.”
Jim stood up and said, “You’re always welcome, Bones.”
“Yeah, you say that now.”
Grinning at the wagging finger aimed his way, Jim left the office and headed for his own. He had a call to make and it wasn’t one he was looking forward to.
* * * *
Spock knew that Dr. McCoy had
been informed of his condition by the Captain simply because the man had been
on the Bridge more in the last two days than in the last two months. The only
time the doctor was there was if there was an emergency, which the
The crew hadn’t been told why they were turning back to Earth, but they had to suspect there was something medical going on with McCoy so often on the Bridge. Fortunately, he’d been able to maintain almost his normal control and was sure no one suspected that it was he in distress.
And he was in distress. His temperature fluctuated from bitter cold to stifling hot despite the lack of change in his environment. He got perhaps three hours of sleep a night, if he was lucky, and the smell of food actively turned his stomach. If McCoy hadn’t allowed him to come in after hours to IV nutrients, Spock would likely have ‘keeled over from hunger,’ as the Captain had feared.
It was another forty-eight hours before they would reach Earth and Spock wasn’t sure how much longer he could retain his control. Little things set him off now, like when Sulu had made a joke to Chekov and the resulting laughter had driven Spock to an irrational anger. He’d had to remove himself from the Bridge in order not to slam the young man’s face into his console.
Taking a breath, Spock entered the communications address for his father and waited to be acknowledged. It took a few minutes, but at last his father’s face appeared on the screen. He must look worse than the thought because Sarek’s eyes widened slightly on seeing him. Spock greeted, “Father.”
“What has happened, Spock?” Sarek questioned calmly.
Spock hesitated, but then explained, “I am in Pon Farr.”
Concern sketched across Sarek’s face, but it was gone as fast as it showed. “How deep into it are you?”
“I have…a few days perhaps, before Plak-tow,” Spock admitted. “Captain Kirk is bringing us back to Earth ahead of our mission. I am about to contact Nyota to inform her of my status.”
Sarek questioned delicately, “Does she know about Pon Farr?”
“She does. I wished her to be fully informed as to any possible outcome of our coupling,” Spock confirmed.
Nodding, Sarek told him, “That was wise. Contact me when you have completed the cycle.”
Spock was relieved his father didn’t want to draw out the conversation any more than he did. “I shall. Good bye, Father. Live long and prosper.”
“And you, my son,” Sarek replied, cutting the connection.
Shaking from either the turmoil of dealing with his father in such a state or the knowledge that he next had to call Nyota, Spock stood and took several calming breaths. He couldn’t just appear at Nyota’s door and demand she submit, this had to be her choice. What he would do if she refused, Spock honestly did not know.
He sat back down and entered Nyota’s communication address.
It was far later on Earth than New Vulcan, so it took several minutes for her to appear on the screen. Her hair was down, loose over her shoulders in an appealing manner, and her face was soft with interrupted sleep. She yawned and asked, “Spock? What’s wrong?”
“Nyota, I apologize for disturbing you,” he began, “but there is no other recourse.”
Frowning, she rubbed her eyes and then seemed to take a closer look at him. “Are you sick? What happened?”
It was far more difficult than he’d anticipated to get the words out. Spock finally managed to tell her, “I am in Pon Farr.”
Dark eyes widened in something akin to shock and she exclaimed, “But I thought you couldn’t get that being only half-Vulcan!”
“I told you that it was a possibility,” he reminded.
She countered sharply, “A remote possibility, you said. Believe me, I remember the conversation in detail. Spock, I can’t get pregnant right now! Not with everything going on with my family and my career! I just, I can’t!”
Stiffly, he replied, “You do not need to conceive, Nyota. Eventually, the…urges…will subside whether or not a child is the result of our union.”
With a hand to her forehead, Nyota said, “I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right at all. I know how difficult this must be for you.”
“It is all right,” Spock said. “You have had a shock. I did say that it most likely would not occur and now it has. I do not wish to impose upon you, Nyota, and you have every choice here. You do not have to mate with me. I can find another, a Vulcan female.”
Nyota shook her head. “No, I don’t want that. Truly, Spock, I’m okay with this as long as I don’t have to get pregnant. I love you, of course I accept this part of you.”
He wanted to believe her, the very picture of earnestness, and yet something of doubt lingered in his heart. Her reaction had been expected and she wasn’t rejecting him, but… Forcing down the emotions that made him want to tear apart the monitor before him in a rage, Spock took another calming breath and said, “Thank you, Nyota.”
“Are you safe? You look too thin,” she observed, worry etching a frown between her brows. “Does Dr. McCoy know? He should be taking care of you until you can get here. When will you be here? And is there, ah, somewhere special we need to go or will anywhere private do?”
Choosing to answer the last question first, Spock explained, “There is a ceremony that accompanies Pon Farr, but I am, there is no time for ceremonies now. We will make Earth orbit in approximately forty-eight hours. Somewhere private and sound proofed would be best.”
She swallowed visibly at the instructions, but nodded. “Of course, yes. I’ll ah, I’ll find somewhere. And Dr. McCoy? Is he looking out for you?”
“He is,” Spock assured her.
“Good.”
There was a long silence before Spock finally repeated, “Thank you, Nyota. I will see you in two days.”
Nyota smiled, a warm, welcoming smile, the kind that always eased his burdens even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Don’t thank me, Spock, just be safe. I’ll see you then.”
She cut the connection before he could give his customary goodbye, which left him feeling…unsettled…
* * * *
When Spock wasn’t on the Bridge for duty the morning they were to arrive at Earth, worry shot through Jim. He said, “Mr. Sulu, you have the Bridge,” before turning back around and reentering the lift. He gave the deck number for Spock’s quarters and then hit the comm. button for Bones.
“McCoy here.”
“Bones, meet me at Spock’s quarters. He’s not on the Bridge,” Jim ordered.
“On my way.”
The doors slid open and Jim strode down the hall, anxious to see for himself what was going on with Spock. He touched the door chime and called out, “Spock? It’s Jim. Are you all right?”
“I will be fine, Captain,” Spock replied through the door. “Allow me to resume my meditation.”
Torn, Jim was saved from answering by Bones’ arrival, the other man jogging down the hall.
“Spock? Open up,” Bones ordered. “I need to take a look at you.”
There was a long silence before Spock said, “Just you, Doctor.”
Jim chafed at being excluded, but couldn’t deny the anguish behind the request. He nodded at Bones and stepped away from the door, which opened a few seconds later. Touching the comm. button by the door, Jim asked, “Mr. Sulu, how long until we reach Earth?”
“Eight hours, Captain.”
“Full speed, Lieutenant, and I mean don’t hold back. Coordinate with Mr. Scott if necessary, but I want us there in two hours.”
“Two hours? Sir, that’s…”
“Two hours, Mr. Sulu. Kirk out.”
He released the comm. button and glared at the unhelpful door that stood between him and his friend. It seemed like forever before McCoy exited the room, a grave expression on his face. Crowding his other friend, Jim demanded, “What? How is he?”
“We need to get him to Nyota now,” Bones stated. “Or her to him. What about that transwarp beaming thing Scotty figured out?”
Wanting to kick himself for not thinking about it sooner, Jim said, “I’ll see if that’s a possibility. I think it will be once we’re in the same solar system, I’m not sure. But we’ll be at Earth in a couple of hours.”
“If he has that long.”
Jim went very still. “He’s that bad off?”
Bones nodded, lips quirking wryly as he told him, “Let’s just say that it’s a good thing none of you considers me a dominant male right about now.”
Jim’s eyebrows went up at the comment, but he only reached for the comm. to call Scotty. They had to figure this out and fast.
* * * *
Spock knew the moment he woke from the restless sleep that Plak-tow had struck while his defenses were down. The urge to tear apart his room in an effort to speed their way to Nyota was almost too great to resist. As it was, he immediately began katas to disperse the excess adrenaline and aggression through exertion, at least as best he could.
By the time Jim arrived, Spock was shaking from the effort of remaining upright and in control. Hearing Jim’s voice through the door, knowing the other man stood only inches away, ate at him in a completely unexpected way. He wanted to grab Jim and pull him into the room, to make him submit in as many ways possible, not all of them sexual but a good many of them so. He had to fight the need to make Jim want him, want to submit to him, with all his remaining strength.
When McCoy entered his room, Spock couldn’t stop himself from shoving the man against the wall and pinning him there. The doctor remained absolutely still as Spock scented him, searching for the clue that would mean fight and not finding it. Relaxing slightly, Spock ground out, “This is useless, Doctor, you can do nothing further for me.”
McCoy very slowly lifted a tricorder and used it to scan Spock. “You’re dehydrated and exhausted. Let me give you another bag of nutrients.”
Spock forced himself to nod, warning, “Do not make any sudden movements.”
“Oh don’t worry, I figured that part out all on my own,” McCoy replied with a hint of his usual asperity.
The next few minutes pushed at his control, but Spock held on by a thread. Once his body had consumed the nutrients, Spock felt much better physically, but more volatile in temperament. Fists clenched, he commanded, “Leave now, before I do something to harm you.”
McCoy questioned on the way to the door, “How long until we have to lock the door?”
“A few hours, maybe less,” Spock answered. “And under no circumstances…do not let the Captain anywhere near me. Promise me, Doctor, that he shall stay away. I can not guarantee his safety otherwise.”
Looking troubled, McCoy nodded nonetheless and agreed, “I promise,” before leaving.
Spock stripped out of his clothes, unable to bear them a moment longer, and immersed himself once more in the katas. In doing so, he lost himself.
* * * *
With Bones, Scotty, Sulu and Chekov in his office, Jim stated without explanation, “Spock needs to be beamed to Earth as soon as possible. Scotty?”
The smaller man seemed startled, but replied, “Aye, well, soon’s we round Jupiter, should be able to do.”
“And how long until that happens?” Jim pressed.
Blue eyes lost focus as Scotty did whatever mental calculations he needed to do and then locked back on Jim as he answered, “Thirty-five minutes.”
Looking at Bones, Jim prompted, “That enough time to get him ready to transport?”
The doctor nodded and said, “We’ll need to clear the halls to get him there and I’d suggest Scotty not be in the room unless absolutely necessary.”
Jim could see the other men were dying to ask what was behind the urgent situation, but they were a credit to their training and commitment. Not one of them asked. Shifting his gaze to Chekov, Jim said, “Maintain current speed.”
“Captain, we’re going to burn out the engines if we keep this pace,” Scotty spoke up.
Jim looked back at him and questioned, “Before or after we get to the transport position?”
A somewhat helpless expression surfaced on the man’s face as Scotty replied, “I can’t know, Captain. It’ll be close.”
Sulu suggested, “If we slow down for…”
Jim interrupted, “We’re not slowing down, not for anything less than life support failure. The mission is to get Commander Spock where he needs to be as soon as humanly possible. Make it happen.”
There were nods all around and quiet conversation about vectors and coordinates started up on their way out of the office.
Meeting Bones’ gaze, Jim said, “I need to call Uhura and let her know what’s going on.”
Bones shook his head, though, and told him, “Let me do it. I think there’ll be less embarrassment all around if we just treat this as a medical emergency. You coordinate on clearing the hallways. And Jim, that means you too. I don’t want you anywhere near Spock until this whole damned mess is over with.”
“I have to be there for him, Bones, I promised,” Jim countered sharply.
Long arms folding over his chest, Bones informed him sternly, “If I have to make this an official order, I will. For your own safety, and that of Spock’s, you go nowhere near him. Understood?”
The emphasis took Jim by surprise. Gaze narrowing at the doctor, Jim demanded, “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing I can say that won’t break privilege, so don’t ask.”
It was said in that tone that brooked absolutely no argument. Jim scowled, but nodded and looked at the clock. “Fine. The halls will be cleared from eleven hundred to twelve hundred hours for a window. I’ll make the announcement.”
Bones hesitated and then told him, “Spock will be fine. We’ll get him to Uhura’s lovin’ arms and he’ll be the all-knowing, insufferable bastard we know and love in no time.”
Jim snorted, but wasn’t really amused. Still, he said, “Thanks, Bones. Let me know when he’s gone planetside.”
Gripping his shoulder briefly, Bones nodded and left the office.
Alone, Jim took a minute to himself and then started coordinating. If he couldn’t be there, at least he could make the transition as smooth as possible.
* * * *
It was a tight fit, time-wise. As soon as he left Jim’s office, Leonard jogged to the lift and headed straight for his office. He called Uhura and found her tense, even drawn, which was something of a surprise. “You okay, Nyota?”
She nodded, but didn’t summon even the ghost of a smile. “I’ve been better, Leonard, thanks for asking. When’s he going to be here?”
“In about thirty minutes,” Leonard replied. “Everything set there?”
Another nod, determination plain on her face. It actually made him wonder if she was up to the task that lay before her. Spock wasn’t just anyone, after all, and knowing intellectually about Pon Farr and experiencing it were two different things. Even that very short visit he’d had earlier had shown Leonard that in no uncertain terms.
Frowning, he asked before she could respond, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Now’s the time to speak up.”
“I’m not going to reject him,” she answered sharply. “Let’s just leave it at that.”
But Leonard shook his head and said, “I can’t. Nyota, this is a critical situation. Spock’s gone into Plak-tow. He’s more than a little aggressive right now, he’s downright scary.”
Not that he wanted to scare her off, but she had to know exactly what she was getting into.
Chin lifting in an all-too-familiar gesture of stubbornness, Nyota informed him, “I’ll be fine, Leonard, thank you for your concern. I’m transmitting the coordinates now for the isolation room. Spock’s father arranged it yesterday.”
Leonard’s eyebrows lifted in surprise at hearing Sarek was involved, but all he said was, “Information received. Is anyone monitoring you?”
“Sarek contacted the embassy and they have sent a representative. I don’t think they’ll be there yet, we didn’t expect you so soon, but he will by the time everyone’s there.”
There wasn’t really anything else to say, except, “Good luck, Nyota.”
Her expression softened a little and she replied, “Thank you. I appreciate the concern. I’ll talk to you after.”
Leonard nodded and cut the connection with a sigh.
* * * *
Every sense he had was on fire. His cock stood hard and heavy at attention. His skin could stand nothing upon it. He burned for the One, his Mate, his Only. Steel kept him from the other, no matter how many times he pounded and tore at it, he could not break it down. Howling in rage let loose the primal within and he did it again, and again.
The door opened without warning and he ran out before it could close again, pausing just outside. There were no scents in the air, nothing to guide him, but he ran to the end of the hall, coming to the only open door. It closed behind him, confining him in a small space, enraging him when it wouldn’t reopen on command. His fists slammed into the controls, green blood dripping down knuckles onto the floor.
Finally, the way was clear once more and he ran out, breathing in a scent, a familiar, calming scent. Cocking his head, he breathed in the scent and jogged swiftly towards it, finding himself on a raised platform staring at several pieces of clothing. He snatched them off the floor and brought them to his face, inhaling deeply.
The world disappeared around him and when it reassembled, he was elsewhere altogether. Snarling, he cast aside the clothing and looked at his new surroundings, taking in at a glance and dismissing the soft surfaces filled with cushions and pillows. His senses focused instead on the woman standing before him, naked and waiting, skin smooth and dusky brown and hair falling down her back. Her scent mixed of lust, fear, and wariness, causing his nose to twitch in annoyance.
Not the One, not the Only, ran through his
mind. Not my Mate!
Frustration and need caused him to howl again in disappointed fury and run at her, fingers curled into virtual talons of death-to-come.
* * * *
Shaken, Jim demanded, “What do you mean, he attacked her?” as he and Bones jogged down the hall to the transporter room.
Bones exclaimed, “Just what I said! They got her out before any serious damage was done, but he clipped her a couple of good ones. They don’t know what in hell to do! Sarek’s on his way, but I don’t know what he can do. Maybe the Plak-tow is so bad Spock just couldn’t recognize her. I’m a doctor, not an expert on Vulcan mating cycles!”
They reached the transporter room and a sober looking Scotty who nodded and told them, “Coordinates locked in, Captain, Doctor. You’re good to go.”
“You’re in charge, Mr. Scott,” Jim told him.
The transporter whirled around him a split second later for the second longest transport in his life. The first had also involved Spock, though not this particular version. He arrived in a plain, office lobby with bland furniture and a Vulcan and Uhura. The sling on her arm caused him to wince and instantly ask, “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” she brushed off. “It’s Spock I’m worried about.”
“I am N’Taal,” the tall, dark haired Vulcan around Sarek’s age announced. “I am current Ambassador to Earth.”
“Good for you. What’s going on?” Jim demanded.
N’Taal stiffened at the abruptness, but answered, “We have Commander Spock confined in the isolation room. He is deep within the Blood Fever and quite irrational. He will only say, “Not the One, not the Only.” If it is not Lt. Uhura, then I’m afraid we have no inkling as to whom the ‘One’ is.”
Sighing explosively, Jim said, “I want to see him.”
“Impossible,” N’Taal replied.
Jim pinned the Vulcan with an icy glare and ordered, “Bring me to him now, or you will regret it.”
Despite the fact that N’Taal was likely sixty or more years older than Jim, the Vulcan looked away first. “This way.”
The group of them walked swiftly down a nearby corridor, passing three other doors before coming to the end of it. N’Taal opened the door which led to an observation room. Uhura remained outside, refusing to enter.
Jim looked at the monitor and found a vision of Spock he’d never thought to see. He was completely nude, for one, but more than that his face was twisted with a rage that seemed so out of place. A quick glance up and down showed Spock’s dick hard and his body dripping with sweat as he went pounded on the wall and then threw the mattress across the room.
“Good God,” Bones breathed.
Words failed Jim entirely for a few more seconds and then he asked, “Can’t you sedate him? He’s going to drive himself to exhaustion, maybe hurt himself.”
“Nothing will stay the Plak-tow,” N’Taal informed them simply. “Nothing save finding the right person to assuage the Commander’s need.”
They stared at the monitor a few more moments and then Bones inhaled sharply, catching Jim’s attention. One look to his friend and Jim knew he knew. “Who is it?”
“I could be wrong,” Bones hedged.
Jim grabbed him by the thick of the neck and snapped, “Just tell us!”
Shaking him off, Bones replied, “It’s you, Jim. You’re the One.”
Stunned, Jim just gaped at him, completely wordless this time.
“It has to be you,” Bones continued, urgent. “You’re the only one he’s allowed close to him in the last year, outside of Uhura.”
“Doctor, if you are wrong then Commander Spock will attack Captain Kirk,” N’Taal pointed out gravely.
Jim looked away from his friend and back to the monitor where Spock raged at absolutely nothing. There was a frantic air to the Vulcan’s actions that spoke of madness hovering right at the edge. As if, should Spock not get what he needed, he absolutely would not live. A world without Spock was unthinkable. Aside from being his best friend, Jim knew his life would be hollow without the other man in it. Coming face to face with reality, Jim had to admit, if only to himself, that he felt more for Spock than simple friendship. Their destinies were tangled together, no matter what, and he wanted it that way.
Turning his attention back to Bones and N’Taal, Jim said, “You can beam me out if this turns out wrong.”
A faintly dismayed expression surfaced on the Vulcan’s face, betraying just how strongly he felt. “Captain, I must protest. Even if you are ‘the one’ that Spock rants for, he will be brutal at this point in time. The Plak-tow is too far gone. You would be severely injured in his attempts to mate with you. Wait until Sarek arrives and then we can come to a logical decision.”
“This is the logical decision,” Jim replied firmly. “If I’m what Spock needs, then he gets me. Find somewhere I can prepare for this and then get a transporter lock on me in case it goes south. But you do not transport me out until I say so, no matter how bad it looks, understood?”
N’Taal nodded stiffly and left the monitoring room.
“Jim, this could be a really bad idea,” Bones said softly.
Giving him a helpless look, Jim replied, “What else can I do? It’s Spock.”
Bones gripped his shoulder and told him, “The Vulcans are really closed-mouthed about this whole thing. From what little I could suss out based on need-to-know medical necessity, Spock’s likely not to recognize you at first. Don’t make any threatening or aggressive moves. Let him be in charge and just give way to whatever he demands or it could put him into a murderous rage. I’d feel better having Chekov’s finger on the transporter, can I bring him in?”
Jim shook his head. “The less people who know, the better Spock will feel after the fact.”
Bones sighed explosively and said, “Fine. Okay. I’m going to stay right here and be watching the whole time. And regardless of what you think’s going on, I’ll yank you out of there if I feel you’re truly in danger. No, don’t even bother. I mean it, Jim. I care about Spock almost as much as you do, but you’re my priority.”
Jim scowled, but could only nod acknowledgement.
N’Taal returned just then and announced, “I have somewhere for you to prepare, Captain.”
Bones took Jim’s hand in a strong grip and told him, “Be careful.”
Quirking a brief grin at him, Jim replied, “I will,” and followed N’Taal out of the room.
* * * *
It was impossible to think, only to feel. His body no longer responded to his commands. The confinement provoked him beyond all reason. His need to find the One outweighed all other consideration.
He was across the room when the door slid open. Spinning, he saw someone step further into the room and snarled in rage at their temerity. It took mere seconds to be at the interloper’s side, a hand around his throat to slam him into the wall.
And then the scent hit him and his grip automatically loosened. Such perfection. Such a ripe musk of need and lust and submission. It slithered into him insidiously, right down to his core and he leaned in until his nose pressed to the throat where he breathed in deeply. He shifted from there to the other’s side, pushing the arm away so he could breathe in at the pungent axis. Dropping to his knees, he again pushed his face in, this time at the root of the man whose scent was so intoxicating.
This was him.
His other half.
The One he’d been waiting for.
* * * *
Even with the man in the middle of a medical crisis, Jim hadn’t actually expected Spock not to recognize him. Vain, but true. So when Spock used his full strength to slam him into the wall, he’d gasped in both shock and pain, his head connecting sharply. And then Spock had gone very still and leaned in to, well, scent him. It was reminiscent of animal behavior and he realized then just how far gone the Vulcan was.
Spock dropping to his knees was another shock. The robe was shoved impatiently aside and the scenting began again. Jim gaped down at him when Spock took his dick in his mouth and went down on him without any preliminaries at all. Jim’s head thumped back again, but this time in startled pleasure. It seemed like he could hold his breath forever, sucking and moving up and down on the shaft for long periods.
Seeing Spock with his eyes closed and his cheeks hollowed went through Jim in a completely unexpected way and he came in a very short time. The Vulcan stood almost immediately, taking Jim’s mouth in a hungry, almost desperate kiss. Jim responded despite himself. He opened to the seeking tongue and shivered as hands slid up his body before massaging lightly across his abdomen.
The kissing went on for a long time; long enough for Jim’s arms to wrap around Spock’s neck and kiss him back. Spock growled and bit his tongue sharply, the tiny pain alerting Jim to his misconduct. Jim relaxed and allowed the other to retake control, something that was surprisingly easy to do. Spock hummed his approval, hands sliding around to the back of him, gripping his ass with both of them and squeezing.
Jim gasped at the rough caress, his dick hardening slightly. It had been a long time since he’d had a male lover. He’d almost forgotten how good it could be, strength to strength, not having to worry about going too fast.
Spock growled again, though Jim didn’t know what he’d done to precipitate this one. Drawing back, looking just as feral as when Jim had walked in, Spock snarled, “Mine! My mate!” before grabbing Jim’s arm and pulling him away from the wall with unexpected strength.
Flailing, Jim stumbled as he was so casually flung across the room. He landed on the mattress with an accuracy that belied an unthinking action. His arm was sore from the Vulcan’s grip, but the rest of him was fine. Catching his breath, Jim figured out that Spock had known he’d been thinking about other lovers. He’d forgotten about the telepathic abilities.
Stalking forward with predatory grace, Spock hissed, “No one else. Mine. No one before, no one after, just me.”
Jim wasn’t going to contradict him. Wouldn’t, even if he could. He didn’t bother to analyze what that said about hm.
Lip still drawn up in anger, Spock closed the distance between them and grabbed him by the hair, pulling him in to his groin with a tug. Jim knew what was expected and was looking forward to it. He nuzzled at the Vulcan’s balls, taking in the musky smell there and licking briefly at them before shifting to the hard, thick shaft. Unlike Spock, Jim couldn’t hold his breath forever, so his sucking was interspersed with quick gasps for air.
Just as he was really getting into it, jaw aching a little, Spock shoved him backwards and jumped on him. Startled, Jim let out an undignified yelp that ended in a gasp of arousal when the other flipped him onto his stomach without effort. He’d prepared for this before coming in, though the sticky feeling in his ass said it wouldn’t be as smooth as if it had happened fifteen minutes ago.
Spock’s tip pressed against his entrance, rubbing around it a few times before the meat of it slapped against his cheeks a couple of times each. He felt the additional stickiness of precome and wondered what color it was; Vulcan blood was green, after all, made sense the come would look different. The inane thought was driven from him by Spock’s dick pushing in without pause or mercy.
Jim groaned in pained need as he was split open by the cock. The burning was more than he’d experienced before, but more from the lack of prep this time than the size of his new lover. His fingers clenched in the askew bedding and his legs spread to give what access he could.
When Spock lay full length on him, his cock lodged as far as it would go, he bit Jim’s neck and growled, “Mine.”
Jim nodded, as pliant and needy as he’d ever been in his life. He just wanted Spock to move already, the thick shaft throbbing inside him, or maybe his ass throbbing around it, he couldn’t tell. He groaned and pushed back, but had no traction against Spock”s greater weight and strength. Biting his lip, he finally begged, “Please, Spock, please fuck me!”
A sound of triumph echoed above him and Spock pulled out to the tip before thrusting back in, the movement smooth and hard. Jim’s mouth opened, but no sound came out as the fucking began in earnest. His whole body felt primed, rigid with a tension that needed release and soon. Something held him back, though he couldn’t have said what.
Spock filled every sense he had from the sweat that dripped onto his back, to the constant impact of hips to ass, from the pungent, slightly spicy scent in the air to the fingers digging into his hip. The world consisted of the mattress beneath him and the man reshaping him from the inside out. His body ached and twitched to come, his cock hard and leaking, but he literally could not orgasm. Noises he’d never made before during sex, whimpers and gasps of desperation and groans, filled the air.
The thrusting grew in intensity, the force growing with the low growls that resonated through him. Spock slammed into him, driving him up the mattress until Jim had to brace himself against the wall or be pressed face-first into it. His arm muscles trembled as they kept him locked in place while his body was used to satisfy Spock’s lust. It hit him suddenly that he was completely helpless, completely at Spock’s mercy, and he shuddered in violent need, moaning and begging without words.
Spock let out a howl like conquest and ground down into him, filling him and then collapsing down onto Jim, gasping for breath. Jim felt a little betrayed as Spock apparently basked in the afterglow while he lay there aching for release.
A few moments later, a low, lusty chuckle graced the air and Spock rolled them so that he lay on his back, on Spock’s chest, the cock still digging deep and hard within him. One strong hand wrapped around Jim’s shaft while the other cupped and rolled his balls and Spock rumbled, “Come for me, my own.”
Jim jerked back and forth on the shaft and into the hands, unable to tell up from down, his head slack on Spock’s shoulder. It didn’t take long until he came, semen splattering over his abs and chest as he spiraled out of control and the world whited out.
* * * *
* * * *
Jim woke to Spock covering him like a heavy blanket. It was the first time in who knew how long that he’d had a moment to think. He knew it had been longer than a day but how many, he couldn’t say. The recent past was a blur of lust and hunger and need and Spock filling him in mind and body. It was without a doubt the strangest experience of his life and yet, maybe the most fulfilling. There’d been brief respites for relieving himself and food and water that had magically appeared, but the rest of the time had been filled with the Vulcan; Spock had become his world.
Reluctantly admitting that his bladder needed to be emptied, Jim carefully slid out from under Spock who, for the first time, didn’t wake. The movement elicited a host of aches and pains that caused him to grit his teeth. He took Spock’s unmoving body to mean Pon Farr was over and sighed softly in relief…and disappointment. The real world lay just outside the door and with it came a host of problems to be dealt with.
The good news was that no one outside their small group knew what he and Spock had been doing the last however many days. There wouldn’t be any problems aboard ship with the crew. The bad news was that he had no idea how Uhura was going to react. It had to hurt like hell to know that Spock had chosen Jim over her, even in a diminished capacity.
He took care of business and washed up a little in the small sink that extended from the wall with the press of a button. When he turned back towards the bed, it was to find Spock gazing at him with a faintly chagrined expression. Quirking a grin at him, Jim greeted, “Well there you are.”
Spock questioned, “Are you injured?”
“Nope,” Jim replied, offering another grin to deflect concern. The last thing he needed was a guilty friend or first officer. “Just sore as hell. I’ll be fine.”
Sitting upright, Spock moved swiftly to his feet and closed the distance between them. The intensity in his gaze wasn’t quite at the Pon Farr level, but close. His hand cupped Jim’s face as he said softly, “I know you now, Jim, better than I should. I…do not wish this to change things between us. You are now, and always will be, my friend.”
Déjà vu swam over Jim at the words and he swayed a bit, physically struck by disorientation at hearing the exact same words in the exact same inflection from two very different Spocks. Spock caught and held him with an arm around the waist before guiding him to the bed and lowering him down upon it.
Jim took a deep breath and closed his eyes, knowing that this was the last time he would have Spock to himself in this way. He didn’t know the specifics of Pon Farr, but it probably didn’t happen all that often. Not to mention, if they survived this, Spock and Uhura would probably be married by the time the next cycle struck. It was entirely likely that Spock wouldn’t even need him, next time around. He thought, heavy on the irony, I’m the ‘other woman’ in this scenario.
“Jim? Are you all right?” Spock prompted.
Nodding, Jim pulled away from Spock and forced himself upright. He winked at Spock and observed dryly, “I think we’ve given them enough of a show. Time to get dressed and go back into the real world.”
As if waiting for that, two transporter beams appeared and left behind casual clothing for them both. Cocking his head up at where he assumed the camera to be, Jim gave a little salute and walked slowly to the clothing. His whole body was one big bruise and all he wanted was to soak in hot water and drink a hell of a lot to forget what he could never have.
“Jim, do not…”
“What, Spock?” Jim interrupted sharply. “Don’t what? Feel bad? Pine for you? Take it personally? I said I was fine and I meant it. We’re good. You’ve got nothing to worry about because believe me, this changes nothing between us.”
Spock drew back as if slapped, dark eyes flashing with hurt before shutting down. Something else shut down, too, because suddenly Jim felt very alone in his own head. Alone and cold. He hadn’t even realized that Spock was still there until he was gone and he already missed the other man’s presence bitterly.
Stiffly, Spock replied at last, “I am glad to hear it, Captain,” and recovered his own clothing.
Jim was done dressing first and walked over to the door, which opened without hesitation.
Bones waited outside with an anxious expression, instantly raising a tricorder and running it over him. “You took some damage, Jim, let’s get you fixed up.”
Though he wanted to shrug him off, Jim knew that Bones wouldn’t accept an, ‘I’m fine,’ under any circumstances, let alone these. Besides, if it helped get him back to normal and not feeling like an old man who could barely move, he was all for it.
It wasn’t a surprise when Bones turned the tricorder on Spock, but he only said, “You’re in better shape, but dehydrated. Get some fluids in you and eat something before you keel over.”
Spock nodded silently, his gaze caught by something beyond the doctor. Bones moved aside to reveal Uhura waiting a short distance away. Jim watched as Spock walked over to her and they had a soft, inaudible conversation that ended with her wrapped in the arms that had held him not a half-hour ago.
Feeling more bereft and alone than ever, Jim muttered to Bones, “Let’s go.”
For once, Bones didn’t say anything. He just put a hand under Jim’s elbow and led him down the hall in the opposite direction.