One Particular Harbour (K/S)
May. 29th, 2005 11:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gilda_eliseSequel to "Duty's Call." May be a bit....sentimental for some.
Originally published in T'hy'la 24, October 2003 by Kathleen Resch. Edited on April 13, 2010 to add the beautiful CGA created for the story by T'racionn.
One Particular Harbour
by Elise Madrid
But there's one particular harbour
So far but yet so near,
Where I see the days as they fade away,
And finally disappear.
Spock walked slowly from the Administration building of Starfleet Academy, his briefcase tucked tightly under his arm. As he past the building that housed the new cadets, he couldn’t help but pause to watch the young men as they hurried out, going about their new lives. He stood for awhile, noticing several that were students in his class. One or two nodded politely but none were brave enough to speak to the austere Vulcan. The wind ruffled his hair, setting the slightly too long strands to flight. Jim had always liked it when he had gone a little too long between haircuts. So now, that’s the way he kept it. He clutched at his coat and pulled it tighter. Winter was nearing.
After a moment he continued on his way. In not too long a time, he reached the front gate of the small bungalow that was his home. They had bought it several years before, their only concession to a life slowly beginning to narrow. He entered, deposited his briefcase on the entry-table and hung his coat on the old-fashioned brass coat-rack. He walked into the study and started a fire before relaxing into the overstuffed chair placed as close as safety allowed to the well-used fireplace.
“Not too near the fire, love.”
“I know, Jim.” Odd how he still heard the beloved voice. Odder still that he responded to it. But how could he not? After seventy years together, it had been as if they spoke with the same voice. He could just as easily ignore himself.
The chill finally chased away, he got up and headed for the kitchen. He put water to boil as he brought out the tea he had developed something of an addiction to. He reached for his cup in the cabinet where it sat next to Jim’s and hesitated for a moment, caught in the flood of memory.
“Welcome aboard, Captain Kirk.” Spock watched the young officer step down from the transporter pad, his uneasiness growing. After years of Christopher Pike’s mature leadership, he didn’t know if he would be able to adapt to the handsome young man who, even now, surveyed his new ship's officers. Handsome young man? Where had that come from? He mentally shook himself as Kirk came up to stand next to him.
“Thank you, Commander Spock. It’s good to be here.”
Kirk left with Lt. Commander Mitchell after the introductions to the rest of Enterprise’s officers, so Spock returned to the bridge. At his station, he had time to contemplate his reaction to his new captain. Yes, the man was undoubtedly physically attractive. It would be illogical to deny that. But this was more than a mere physical attraction. There had been a subtle reaching of mind to mind. The implications were frightening...and seductively alluring.
The sound of the turbo-doors opening drew his attention as Kirk and Mitchell came onto the bridge, Kirk to the center seat, Mitchell to his place at the navigation console.
Spock listened as the new captain gave the order to get underway, Kirk smoothly settling into his new role. Once or twice he noticed Kirk walking around the bridge, stopping to talk now and then with one of the crew, most often Mitchell. That gave him pause. Mitchell was a excellent navigator but there were aspects of his personality that Spock found disquieting. If Kirk was as close to Mitchell as his actions implied, it could prove to be a problem in the future.
“Everything going smoothly, Mr. Spock?”
Kirk approached Spock at his station; his smile and manner were open and friendly. "'Going smoothly’, Captain? Everything is progressing in an efficient manner, as it should be.”
The smile died. “Very well, Mr. Spock. That being the case, I’ll be in engineering. You have the com.”
Kirk turned away and Spock noticed the almost smirk on Mitchell’s face as the captain headed off the bridge.
Later, sitting at one of the tables in the mess, Spock again wondered at his reactions to Kirk. Spock had answered his captain's query in much the same manner as he would have answered Pike. Concisely, and to the point. Why then the...regret at having the smile disappear? There would never be more than a professional relationship between them. There had never been more than that with anyone else. It was all there should be. Pike had been a mentor, directing him in the right path to further his career. He had allowed Spock the opportunity to advance his scientific studies, and gave him free access to the experience he had acquired over the years. What could he possibly learn from Kirk?
“May I join you, Mr. Spock?” Kirk stood next to the table, a cup of coffee in his hand. The cup was not from ship’s stores. It was from the academy, Kirk’s name scripted right below the Starfleet academy insignia. The human slid into the chair across the table, his question apparently rhetorical.
“Captain.” Spock nodded his head, at a loss as to what was expected next.
“I hear you’ve been with the Enterprise for over ten years.”
“Eleven point three years.”
“Eleven point three.” Kirk gave a tentative smile. That’s a long time. You must really like it here.”
“I find my duties stimulating. There would be no logical reason to leave.”
“No, I guess not.” Kirk looked around the room, his attention anywhere but on Spock.
Spock could tell Kirk was uncomfortable. He had seen the reaction often enough in others who had been in his presence for any length of time. “I believe I saw Mr. Mitchell heading for the ship’s gymnasium. Perhaps you would...”
“Why are you saying that?” Kirk’s voice held anger and something else, but Spock didn’t recognize what.
“I was merely suggesting that...”
“I know what you were suggesting, Mr. Spock. What I want to know is why.”
“You seemed...uncomfortable in my presence. I wished only to allow you a way to politely leave.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
Spock studied the man across from him, the human’s features open. What was it Kirk wanted from him? And what did he want from Kirk? What was this inexplicable feeling the man was able to draw from him? “No...I do not wish you to leave.”
The smile was back. “Good, because I think we could be...friends.”
The whistle of the teapot brought him out of his reverie. He took both cups down, setting them on the counter as he turned to retrieve the water. He brought the teapot over and placed it next to the two cups. He picked up Jim’s, lovingly cradling it in his hands. The academy insignia was still as bright as on that day, so many years before, when they had clumsily moved toward each other. Much later, Jim had admitted feeling the same draw, the same need to get close to the reticent alien who was now his first officer. Spock brought the cup to his mouth and gingerly pressed his lips to the brim where Jim’s mouth had rested so many times. He then carefully returned it to its place and closed the cabinet door. He filled his cup and made his way back to the study.
Spock took his place before the fire, relaxing into the worn and faded easy chair. He looked across the room at the side courtyard viewable through the windows. It had begun to rain. The grayness of the day permeated the room but the heat in his hands was a spot of warmth in an otherwise cold existence. He sipped the tea slowly as he listened to the drops of rain hitting the glass. The water ran down in rivelets and puddled around the flowers that clung tenaciously along the house. Jim’s flowers, planted as a sign of life’s renewal. Two, or was it three years ago?
Spock placed his cup on the end-table and walked over to the small alcove created by the three floor-to-ceiling windows that huddled against the front wall. He sat in the chair on the left of the small, round table placed in the alcove’s center. The tri-di chess set was as it had been since Jim’s death. The game had almost been over. Jim would have checkmated him in three moves. He picked up the white king.
“I think I’ve finally got you, Mr. Spock.” Kirk leaned back, mischief sparkling in his eyes.
“Indeed.” Spock tipped his king, conceding defeat.
“Another game?”
“That would be acceptable.” Spock began to collect the chess pieces, resetting them in their starting positions.
Kirk rose and walked over the the counter behind his desk. He poured himself a drink, nodding his head in question to the Vulcan.
“Thank you, Captain. I believe I shall join you.”
“’Jim’, Spock. We’re off duty, remember?” the human responded as he poured the two drinks. Bringing them over, he handed one to Spock and resettled in his chair.
“Thank you...Jim.” Spock took the glass and started it to his lips.
“Wait.” Kirk brought up his hand, halting the Vulcan’s. “A toast.”
“To?”
“To the best command team in the fleet.” He laughed at Spock’s raised eyebrow. “Why not? That’s what they call us...or didn’t you know that?”
“I have heard this. I merely felt it unbecoming to ‘blow our own horn’?”
Kirk smiled, wistfully. “It’s true though. We are the best.”
Spock returned the smile, his lips slightly lifting on one side. “You have made it so.”
“No, Spock. It’s both of us.” Kirk took a sip from his drink, seeming to reflect before speaking again. “I wouldn’t have done as good a job without you.”
"You are an excellent captain. You would have been so no matter who stood at your side."
"Well, I don't believe that. I can't imagine having this kind of rapport with anyone else."
Spock lowered his head, unable to meet the gaze focused on him. “I am unworthy.”
“Why do you say that?” Kirk leaned forward, attentive.
“It is the truth. I have attempted to deny the friendship that binds us.”
“Psi 2000.”
“Yes. I have long wished to recall my words to you that day. I know I hurt you. My disregard for our relationship...”
“Is long forgotten.” Kirk lightly touched Spock’s arm. “Listen. It did sort of bother me at the beginning. But then I started to really think about it, about us. I guess I even understand in a way. It’s new to me, too. This kind of friendship.”
“You have had many friends.” So many. Spock had been surprised, and then ashamed, and then finally grateful for the obvious affection this man held for him. At times, he seemed to fill the closest spot to his captain’s heart. He didn’t truly understand it, but he would fight any and all who threatened that most cherished of places.
“Yes, I have. But not like this. Not the kind of friendship I have with you.”
“It is different? Different from any other you have had?”
Kirk got up and walked across the room to lean against the partition that separated them from the sleeping area. “Yes, Oh, yes. I trust you. Trust you more than I ever have anyone else. Trust you with my life, with my...”
Spock rose, not wanting space between them, knowing somehow that there could never be space between them again. He came to stand behind the human, to the place he always took. “With your...?”
“With my soul.” Kirk whispered.
Spock felt warmth flow through him, to his very core. Yes. It made perfect sense now. “We are t’hy’la.”
“T’hy’la? What does that mean?” the human turned to study his friend.
“Friend. Brother.” Too soon. Too soon to let known the last step, the final coming together that would surely be theirs. Kirk would have to make that part of the journey on his own, finding his way to the certainty that Spock now felt.
“Is that what you feel for me, Spock?”
The Vulcan did not flinch, his gaze centered on Kirk. “Yes. I cannot hide from the fact that I do feel this for you, that your existence brings completeness to mine.”
“As yours does to mine, my friend.”
The loud crash of thunder drew Spock’s attention back to the present. The storm was intensifying. It would likely last into the evening. He slowly caressed the white king before returning it to its proper place. After a moment’s hesitation, he moved it across the board and set it next to its black counterpart. He returned to his chair, the tea he had left still hot. He sipped from his cup as he watched the world outside.
He must have dozed, because his next awareness was of the chill that had crept into the room as the fire died. The furnace had kicked on, timed to his normal return from the academy, but it would take a while before the house would be sufficiently heated. Luckily, he had finished his tea for the cup lay on the floor by his feet, unbroken. It was still relatively early, not later than eighteen humdred hours. Funny how he still thought in military time. Neither he, nor Jim, had ever really made the full adjustment to retirement from the service.
He was cold again. Over the last year he had found it difficult to adequately regulate his temperature. His sun was gone, and he had taken all the warmth from Spock’s life with him. From the very beginning, Kirk’s cooler body had fired his.
He decided on a hot shower instead of tackling the fire again. Perhaps later, if he were so inclined. He stiffly rose and made his way upstairs to their bedroom. The large room had been the deciding factor when they had bought the house. Light and airy, it dominated the second floor, the large windows and stone fireplace making it the nucleus of their home.
Spock undressed and deposited his clothes in the hamper under the bathroom counter before stepping into the large shower stall. He turned the hot water up as far as it would go and let the room fill with steam. He filled his hand with soap and lathered it against his body, spreading it down his arms and chest.
“Spock.”
Spock whirled at the sound of his captain’s voice. They were being forced to share a room, the mix-up at the hotel where they were staying while on shoreleave leaving them one short. He hadn’t thought Kirk would be back so soon from seeing McCoy settled. The shower stall door was open and Kirk stood just outside, naked. “Jim?”
“Spock, I...” Kirk reached out hesitantly, his gaze locked on the Vulcan.
Spock stood frozen as the human entered the stall, the cool arms slowly wrapping themselves around his waist. Kirk’s head tilted back, always watching Spock’s face as he pulled him tight. There was hunger in Kirk’s eyes. Hunger, and a question.
“Yes. Yes.” Spock brought one arm around the smaller man, and returned the embrace. He cupped the back of Kirk’s head with the other hand and pulled it close. Their mouths met, and suddenly they were both clinging to each other, trying to get closer, their tongues dualing as moans of pleasure, and finally released passions, broke free.
Kirk ended the kiss with a gasp. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Spock. So very long.”
“And I you, t’hy’la.” Spock’s hands rested on the human’s lush buttocks, molding and squeezing them as he brought their hips together.
“Oh, god, yes.” Kirk’s head dropped back as he undulated against Spock, his hands now holding tightly to his shoulders.
Spock pulled the human against him so that Kirk’s face rested against his chest as they continued to move, pressed together as they reached for completion.
Kirk moaned, his movements becoming faster as their genitals rubbed together, the hardened cocks sliding against one another.
Spock felt his eminent release and froze, his seed spewing forth as he groaned out his orgasm. His cock continued to pulse out its milky fluid, and he felt Kirk go limp in his arms as his own release came. Their semen collected on their bellies before being washed away by the warm spray from above.
They remained holding fast to each other as their breathing slowed. The shower rained on them as the steam closed out the rest of the world.
“T’hy’la...”
“Yes, Spock. In all ways...forever.” Kirk voice was hushed.
“You understand what it means?”
“It means we belong together. As friends, as brothers...as lovers. I’ve never felt like this with anyone before. I don’t ever want to lose it.” Kirk gently laid a kiss on Spock’s chest.
“Nor I, t’hy’la. We will be together always.”
A sob tore from Spock’s throat as he pulled his hand away from his now flaccid organ. He had never done this before, in all this long year, never found release from the desire that still held him. He let the water wash away the semen that was spattered on his stomach, and then turned it off and exited the shower.
As he dried himself, he remembered how they had finally pulled themselves apart, taking their lovemaking to the large bed. The rest of the evening had been spent in discovering all there was to know of each other’s bodies, and each other’s hearts.
The convenient need to share a room had turned out to be one of Kirk’s machinations. He had made sure to be the one to make the reservations, knowing that he and Spock would end up sharing a room when presented with one less than needed. He had planned well.
The next morning, Dr. McCoy had wondered at their mood, and the calm that would follow them for the rest of their lives.
The storm was hitting its peak, and the tree near the bedroom window threatened to make its way in as its branches clutched at the panes. There was a loud boom and the small lamp on the bedside table went out. Nature still had the power to make herself known. The soft glow of light from outside was enough to see by as Spock made his way to the closet and pulled out his robe. He shrugged into it and started to close the door when a flash of color halted his movement. He reached in and withdrew the sea-green tunic that hung there.
Green had ever been Jim’s color, bringing out the shades of emerald and gold that flecked his large eyes. Green, the color of jealousy. Spock had always wondered at that. Why green? A human “saw red” when upset. Not like a Vulcan. A Vulcan truly saw green when, his emotions loose, he saw a threat to what he had, a rival for what was his.
“Where are you going?” Spock sat in the chair against the wall, eyeing his lover. Kirk was casually dressed but there was an edge to him, a nervousness, as he finished getting ready for an obvious night out.
“I’ve got a meeting with the base commander. It might last a while, so I wouldn’t wait up if I were you.” Kirk nervously wiped his hands on the towel he had brought from the bath room and gave himself another look in the vanity mirror.
“We are on leave. Why would the base commander wish to see you?” Spock was having difficulty keeping his tone neutral.
Kirk shrugged. “He didn’t say. Listen, if it goes on too long, I’ll call you.” He walked over to Spock and quickly kissed him before heading for the door. He was gone before Spock could reply.
He remained seated, all his energy focused on bringing his erratic emotions into check. Kirk had been acting oddly ever since they arrived the day before. They had eaten at a nearby restaurant, but Kirk’s attention had been constantly on the doorway as people came and went; he barely touched his dinner. Spock had felt his anger rise as a small, blonde woman passed their table and the human’s gaze followed her progress across the room. The rest of the meal past in silence.
Spock bolted up, inadvertantly mimicking his captain’s frenetic pacing. There was nothing to fear. Whatever was going on with Kirk, it had nothing to do with them, what they were to each other. He had to believe that. He deliberately slowed his breathing, calming his body. This was getting him nowhere.
He grabbed the book lying on the bedside table and returned to his chair, determined to forget his fears and the questions swirling through his mind. He stared at the pages. The words flowed together, their meaning lost. He tossed the book aside in defeat.
Four hours later he sat in the same chair, still chasing an elusive peace. Once he had almost gone looking for Kirk, and only his pride had kept him from falling so low. They had been lovers for almost a year, a year that had chased away all the shadows that had followed him from his childhood on Vulcan, to the halls of Starfleet Academy, and out to the stars. Or so he had thought. Now those shadows were threatening to destroy his hard-won serenity.
*Jim would not betray me.* He knew this, so why was it so hard to dismiss the feelings that were inundating him, choking off the logical part of his mind that knew Kirk would never treat him in such a manner?
Spock bolted upright at the sound of the tone from the key-card.
Kirk came in, a look of surprise flitting across his face. “You still up? It’s almost three hundred hours.”
“I am quite aware of the time.” Spock tightly gripped the arms of the chair. “Where have you been?”
His lover walked slowly over until he was standing right along side Spock. “What’s wrong?” He softly asked.
Spock looked up, fear and anger making him reckless. “Where have you been?” he repeated.
“Don’t use that tone with me, Spock. Where do you think I’ve been?”
“I do not know.”
“But you have your suspicions.” Kirk took a deep breath. “I thought you knew me better than that.”
“Jim...” He stood up abruptly, crossing the room to put space between them. He stopped at the bedside. He could feel the anger building and wondered at it, just as he wondered at Kirk’s evasions. “Why will you not answer me?”
“Because I don’t think I should have to. I don’t like what you’re implying and I won’t stand for it.”
Spock spun around and three steps brought him to Kirk. He grabbed the smaller man’s shoulders and shook him roughly. “You will not stand for it? You are mine, and I will not allow you to-”
Kirk brought his hands up and shoved hard, breaking the Vulcan’s hold. The human stumbled back, livid with rage. “Don’t you ever do that to me again! What the hell’s the matter with you?”
Spock looked at his hands, shocked at his behavior. What was he doing? He moved over to the bed and slumped down on it, cradling his head in his hands. “Leave me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Kirk came over and sat next to him. “What is it, Spock?” He gently caressed the Vulcan’s bowed head.
“I do not know.” The muffled words were filled with pain. “I do not understand why I am reacting this way. You have never given me any reason to doubt your faithfulness. But tonight, the woman...”
“What woman?”
“The one at the restaurant. You were taken by her. Your attention was for her alone.”
“Oh, Spock.” Kirk put one arm around Spock’s shoulders, and with his other hand pushed Spock's head up until their eyes met. “I love you, don’t you know that? That woman...” He shoved his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box. “Here. This is for you.”
“I do not understand.” Spock took it, watching Kirk questioningly.
“That woman was a jeweler. I was looking for her at the restaurant to pick this up. But there was a problem with my order, so I had to meet her again tonight.” Kirk gave him a quick hug and then brought his arm down. “Open it.”
Spock undid the ribbon tied around the box and then lifted the cover. Nestled in a bed of cotton was a white-gold ring, runes of ancient Vulcan engraved along the broad band.
“It’s a pre-reform verse of two warriors' love...or part of it, anyway. The whole thing wouldn’t fit.” Kirk smiled at him. “Happy anniversary, love.”
Spock’s throat tightened and the words he so desperately wished to say would not come. Finally, he was able to speak. “I do not deserve you.”
His lover’s laugh was light and filled Spock with an overpowering graditude for what had been given him when this man had taken him into his life.
“No, you don’t. But you’re stuck with me, anyway.”
“Jim, it is not our anniversary. It will not be a year until-”
“Next Tuesday, but I thought I’d better give it to you now. You know, jealousy doesn’t become you,” Kirk teased.
“I am truly sorry, t’hy’la. I still do not understand why I would behave in such a way.”
“Don’t worry about it...just don’t do it again. Okay?”
Spock smiled at his lover as he slipped the ring onto his finger and slipped Kirk’s tunic over his head, tossing the garment on the near-by chair. The green material was swiftly followed by the rest of their clothes. They made love slowly and passionately.
Spock replaced the tunic and closed the closet door. The storm was making it darker than it normally would be at this hour, but after all these years he knew his way around the home that had seen so much of their love.
He returned downstairs, the house finally warm enough to be tolerable. Just as he pulled the candles from the kitchen cupboard, the lights flickered and then glowed to life. He poured himself a second cup of tea and settled back in the study to finish the essays he needed to review. His students had worked very hard on them and they would go far in determining who would be allowed to stay at the academy. He could not, in all conscienceness, leave them ungraded.
He worked on them for several hours. Finally, he settled the last on top of the pile. He gathered them together, put them in a large envelope and took it into the foyer. He left it on the entry table next to his briefcase. It would be easily found.
He began a sedate walk through the house, his steps slow but sure. Over the years they had filled it with mementos of past adventures and new experiences. Here, an interesting mineral from a planet half a galaxy away. There, a crystal sailing ship from a thankful student. He strolled from room to room, each one a gallery of their lives together. Finally he started back up the stairs. He stopped at the top landing to gaze at the picture mounted there. Vulcan, as the sun set beyond Vulcan’s Forge. It had been many years since they had revisited the planet of his birth. As Kirk had aged, the heavier gravity and thinner air had become more and more difficult for him to cope with. Spock smiled. Unlike that day, so long in the past, when having finally realized what his abnormal behavior had forewarned the night of Kirk's first gift to him, they journeyed to the place of marriage to become one.
Spock woke to the familiar feel of a cool body in his arms, the golden strands that had a tendency to tickle his nose, under his chin. He breathed in the beloved scent of...his bondmate. Never had he imagined that he could love Jim more than he already had. Jim. His Jim. Now and forever, his Jim. Deep in his mind he could feel the tendrils of the bond that, even now, continued the process of binding them together. Pon farr was over. They had the rest of their lives to explore the gift given by that biological imperative.
The human stirred in his arms. "Jim?"
"Hm, mm?"
"Did you sleep well?"
Kirk turned and wrapped Spock in a tight embrace. "Oh, yes. I slept great. But considering what we've been doing for the last three days, I'd say I needed it."
"I did not injure you?" He slid his hand down Kirk's side, bringing it to rest on his buttocks.
"No, I'm fine...really. It was nothing like I thought it would be. You were so wound up these last few weeks, I thought for sure we'd have a difficult time. But you were wonderful. Maybe a bit more forceful than normal..."
"My need for you has only grown with time. It is a wonder I did not inflict myself on you more than I did."
"You could never ask more of me than I'm willing to give. I wish there was some way to convince you of that." The human looked down for a moment, deep in thought. He finally looked up and closed his eyes in concentration."Maybe there is..."
Spock smiled as he felt the tentative reach of Kirk's mind to his. "You do that very well."
"I've had a great teacher," Kirk said with a laugh and opened his eyes. Sobering suddenly, he looked up and Spock saw a reflection of the wonder that shone from his own eyes. "Will it always be this way, Spock?"
Slowly, he brought his hand up and touched the human's lips, tracing across them and then lightly up the side of his face. "Always."
They kissed then, deep and long, drowning in the taste of each other, wanting more of the sweet fulfillment that was forever after bound up in their minds, their bodies, and their souls.
Spock unclasped his hand from the bannister railing. The wood had cracked under the pressure of his curled fingers. It is almost time, time for the pain to end. He continued into the bedroom and turned down the bed covers. The rain still fell as the storm raged, and he found himself once again drawn to the window by its majesty. A flash of lightning momentarily dimmed the artificial light. The sky was on fire with nature's unleashed fury. He looked down into the side courtyard, his attention caught by the flowerbed that hugged the building wall. In a morass of mud, flowers, once strong and alive, floated in their watery grave. The sight hit him like a blow, and he quickly turned away.
He moved to the dresser and open the bottom drawer. Inside was an ornately carved box of laquered wood. He pulled it out and placed it on top of the bureau. Inside, ribbons and medals lined up like soldiers, each a testament to lives given in the service of others. He picked up the large one on the left and remembered.
"Jim, you must sit still." Spock spoke quietly. He did not wish to be heard by the people surrounding them as the man at the podium continued his speech.
"He's taking too long. I'm going to fall asleep if I don't move around," Kirk whispered.
"T'hy'la, he is only trying to properly acknowledge all you have done for-"
"Oh, hush. I don't want to hear it anymore. If that's the case, how come they're not giving you one?" Kirk turned wide, innocent-seeming eyes at his bondmate.
Spock sighed. "We have already discussed this. I do not wish to be recognized in this manner."
"Well, neither do I. Damn, if I knew they were going to do all this, I never would have let you talk me into retiring."
"You have known about this for several weeks. Your speech-"
"Don't remind me." Kirk turned and smiled at the two women behind them. The looks of disapproval they had been directing his and Spock's way instantly disappearing from their faces. "Sorry. We'll try to keep it down." He looked back at Spock. "See what you did."
Eyebrows raised, his retort was stifled when the speaker turned toward them.
"So, in recognition of the many years of distinguished service, the United Federation of Planets is pleased to present to Admiral James T. Kirk, its highest award." The president of the UFP motioned him forward. Kirk rose from his seat on the stage to the accompaniment of thunderous applause. Spock watched with pride as his bondmate of fifty years walked straight and sure to the podium. Even at eighty-five, Kirk still cut a handsome figure. He could pass for a man on the high side of sixty. His body was still firm and his face still handsome, though etched with the character that time had added.
Kirk reached the dais, smiling at the middle-aged leader of the Federation who was obviously in awe of the living legend. After receiving the ribbon bedecked medal, he took his place in front of the dais. He turned to Spock with a smile before facing the thousands who had come to honor him at the end of his career. He cleared his throat and began to speak:
"Starfleet had been my life, my home, for all my adult life. This medal," He held it up, turning it to catch the light as the ribbons fluttered in the gentle breeze, "will always hold a place of honor in my heart. But I've received far more from my years of service than I could ever repay. For it is in Starfleet that I found everything that gave my life meaning and purpose."
Spock continued to gaze at his bondmate, though he was only half listening. He had heard the speech several times already while playing surrogate audience during Kirk's many rehearsals. So it was a surprise when Lieutenant Michaels, Kirk's soon-to-be-ex attache, gently nudged him, a look of expectation on his face. It was then that Spock realized he was being called forward, the applause around him growing stronger when he finally stood and hesitantly moved to Kirk's side. There had been no hint of this in the original speech. He gave Kirk a chastising look, a look that turned to one of utter shock as he was taken into a strong embrace.
Spock replaced the medal and firmly closed the box, leaving it centered atop the bureau. Even now, almost twenty years later, that totally out of character public show of affection had the power to bring a flush of color to his face. Kirk never explained why he had done what he did, why he found the need to include him so dramatically in the spotlight that should have been Kirk's alone. Whenever Spock brought it up, the human would only smile and tell him that it seemed the logical thing to do at the time.
Pondering it now, he realized that, perhaps, it was the only answer there could be. Over the years, people had come in and out of their lives, as ships, new posting...and death, had taken them away and out of reach. The only constant for each was the other. They had shared much. What was one small ceremony?
Opening the top right drawer, Spock removed a large envelope and positioned it against the wooden box. "Saavik" was scrawled across its cream-colored surface.
He walked to the bed and sat down, kicking off his shoes as he lay back on its soft and inviting contours. He turned on his side and rested a hand on the empty pillow next to his. He breathed deep, fighting to recapture the scent, the feeling, anything of his bondmate that might still cling to the bed that had witnessed so much love...and the flight of Kirk's soul as the human's body had finally given out.
"Spock?"
He woke with a start, almost afraid to turn to the sound of Kirk's fragile call. "Yes, t'hy'la?"
The hand that grasped his was cold and held no strength. "I had a dream, Spock."
Spock rose on one elbow and pulled Kirk over to nestle against him. "What did you dream?"
"I dreamt that I was on the bridge of the Enterprise, the first one. Everyone was there. Bones, Scotty, everyone. Everyone but you. I missed you so much, but I knew that you were needed somewhere else. It was so lonely without you."
"It was only a dream. I am here, I will always be here."
"But I won't."
Spock touched Kirk's brow, gently stroking the white hair that haloed the beloved face. "Do not say that. You will not leave me, you cannot."
Kirk gaze intently at him, the old determination and indomitable will still there. "I don't have a lot of time left. You know that...no, please, let me finish." He placed a hand on Spock's side, pressing against the flesh over his heart. "You have so much left to give, so much of life left to experience. I don't want that life shortened because of me."
They had had this argument several times over the years. It had never been resolved, neither willing to give in to the other. Now it would have to be.
"Please, t'hy'la, do not force me to stay behind. I wish to go with you. " Spock lowered his head, his voice a mere whisper as he fought the pain that threatened to engulf him.
"I know you do." Now it was Kirk giving comfort as his hand moved to the bowed head. His fingers threaded through the graying strands of hair. "But you'll leave so much undone. There are so many people who still need you, who would want you to stay."
"And what of me? What of what I desire?"
"Spock-"
"No, do not ask this of me. I cannot do it, Jim. I cannot."
"I understand, love. I really do. If it was me that had to stay behind, I don't know if I'd be able to either. We've been together for so long, I don't even remember what it was like not to have you at my side. But wouldn't you expect the same thing of me? To not follow you until the proper time?"
"For me, it would not be life, only existence. You are different. You could still love, still-"
"No, you're wrong. I'm not so different. You're part of me, Spock. That can never change." Kirk quieted, and his arms surrounded his bondmate. They held each other for a while, each lost in their own pain until the human spoke again. "Will you promise me one thing at least?"
Spock brought his head up, the tears falling unashamingly. "If I can."
"Promise me you'll wait one year. Then, if you still want to leave..."
"Jim, no-"
"Yes, Spock, please, promise me. Just one year. Then you'd know if it's what you want, if life can still hold a reason for you to continue or if you still want to follow me."
Spock was silent a long time, the words choked off by the ache in his throat. Finally he nodded and brought his head down to rest on Kirk's chest, the sluggish beat of the human's heart a constant reminder of what he was soon to lose. In the morning, Jim was gone.
The rain had stopped. Moonlight shone brightly through the bedroom window as the clouds broke apart and allowed the stars back. Spock gazed at the stream of light as it beckoned him forward and, knowing it for what it was, smiled. It had been a long and arduous wait, but he had persevered and seen his way through his year in limbo. The lonliness had been like a dark and heavy mantle weighing him down, as he tried to live his life as more than a test of endurance. There had been days of respite, when his work, and the people who filled his world, had been almost enough. But they were inevitably followed by a yearning that caught his breath, as the full weight of what he had lost came crashing down once again. But always, even in the depths of his despair, there had been the sweet dream of what lay ahead.
It was time. Spock turned on his back and let his mind spin out into the eternal ether, casting his line. With a wild joy, he felt the tug at the other end of the golden strand that connected him to his own safe harbour. Jim had known the way home, and now eagerly waited for him at his soul's shore. He slowed his heart, and his breath stilled as his year of solitude and loss came to an end. Wading into the sea of forever, Spock was met by the shining essence that was James Kirk. As one, they turned and faced eternity. As it had been in life, so would it be in death. They would take this last adventure together.
Most mysterious calling harbour
So far but yet so near,
I can see the day when my hair's full gray
And I finally disappear.
One Particular Harbour
Jimmy Buffett 1983
Finis
Originally published in T'hy'la 24, October 2003 by Kathleen Resch. Edited on April 13, 2010 to add the beautiful CGA created for the story by T'racionn.
by Elise Madrid
But there's one particular harbour
So far but yet so near,
Where I see the days as they fade away,
And finally disappear.
Spock walked slowly from the Administration building of Starfleet Academy, his briefcase tucked tightly under his arm. As he past the building that housed the new cadets, he couldn’t help but pause to watch the young men as they hurried out, going about their new lives. He stood for awhile, noticing several that were students in his class. One or two nodded politely but none were brave enough to speak to the austere Vulcan. The wind ruffled his hair, setting the slightly too long strands to flight. Jim had always liked it when he had gone a little too long between haircuts. So now, that’s the way he kept it. He clutched at his coat and pulled it tighter. Winter was nearing.
After a moment he continued on his way. In not too long a time, he reached the front gate of the small bungalow that was his home. They had bought it several years before, their only concession to a life slowly beginning to narrow. He entered, deposited his briefcase on the entry-table and hung his coat on the old-fashioned brass coat-rack. He walked into the study and started a fire before relaxing into the overstuffed chair placed as close as safety allowed to the well-used fireplace.
“Not too near the fire, love.”
“I know, Jim.” Odd how he still heard the beloved voice. Odder still that he responded to it. But how could he not? After seventy years together, it had been as if they spoke with the same voice. He could just as easily ignore himself.
The chill finally chased away, he got up and headed for the kitchen. He put water to boil as he brought out the tea he had developed something of an addiction to. He reached for his cup in the cabinet where it sat next to Jim’s and hesitated for a moment, caught in the flood of memory.
“Welcome aboard, Captain Kirk.” Spock watched the young officer step down from the transporter pad, his uneasiness growing. After years of Christopher Pike’s mature leadership, he didn’t know if he would be able to adapt to the handsome young man who, even now, surveyed his new ship's officers. Handsome young man? Where had that come from? He mentally shook himself as Kirk came up to stand next to him.
“Thank you, Commander Spock. It’s good to be here.”
Kirk left with Lt. Commander Mitchell after the introductions to the rest of Enterprise’s officers, so Spock returned to the bridge. At his station, he had time to contemplate his reaction to his new captain. Yes, the man was undoubtedly physically attractive. It would be illogical to deny that. But this was more than a mere physical attraction. There had been a subtle reaching of mind to mind. The implications were frightening...and seductively alluring.
The sound of the turbo-doors opening drew his attention as Kirk and Mitchell came onto the bridge, Kirk to the center seat, Mitchell to his place at the navigation console.
Spock listened as the new captain gave the order to get underway, Kirk smoothly settling into his new role. Once or twice he noticed Kirk walking around the bridge, stopping to talk now and then with one of the crew, most often Mitchell. That gave him pause. Mitchell was a excellent navigator but there were aspects of his personality that Spock found disquieting. If Kirk was as close to Mitchell as his actions implied, it could prove to be a problem in the future.
“Everything going smoothly, Mr. Spock?”
Kirk approached Spock at his station; his smile and manner were open and friendly. "'Going smoothly’, Captain? Everything is progressing in an efficient manner, as it should be.”
The smile died. “Very well, Mr. Spock. That being the case, I’ll be in engineering. You have the com.”
Kirk turned away and Spock noticed the almost smirk on Mitchell’s face as the captain headed off the bridge.
Later, sitting at one of the tables in the mess, Spock again wondered at his reactions to Kirk. Spock had answered his captain's query in much the same manner as he would have answered Pike. Concisely, and to the point. Why then the...regret at having the smile disappear? There would never be more than a professional relationship between them. There had never been more than that with anyone else. It was all there should be. Pike had been a mentor, directing him in the right path to further his career. He had allowed Spock the opportunity to advance his scientific studies, and gave him free access to the experience he had acquired over the years. What could he possibly learn from Kirk?
“May I join you, Mr. Spock?” Kirk stood next to the table, a cup of coffee in his hand. The cup was not from ship’s stores. It was from the academy, Kirk’s name scripted right below the Starfleet academy insignia. The human slid into the chair across the table, his question apparently rhetorical.
“Captain.” Spock nodded his head, at a loss as to what was expected next.
“I hear you’ve been with the Enterprise for over ten years.”
“Eleven point three years.”
“Eleven point three.” Kirk gave a tentative smile. That’s a long time. You must really like it here.”
“I find my duties stimulating. There would be no logical reason to leave.”
“No, I guess not.” Kirk looked around the room, his attention anywhere but on Spock.
Spock could tell Kirk was uncomfortable. He had seen the reaction often enough in others who had been in his presence for any length of time. “I believe I saw Mr. Mitchell heading for the ship’s gymnasium. Perhaps you would...”
“Why are you saying that?” Kirk’s voice held anger and something else, but Spock didn’t recognize what.
“I was merely suggesting that...”
“I know what you were suggesting, Mr. Spock. What I want to know is why.”
“You seemed...uncomfortable in my presence. I wished only to allow you a way to politely leave.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
Spock studied the man across from him, the human’s features open. What was it Kirk wanted from him? And what did he want from Kirk? What was this inexplicable feeling the man was able to draw from him? “No...I do not wish you to leave.”
The smile was back. “Good, because I think we could be...friends.”
The whistle of the teapot brought him out of his reverie. He took both cups down, setting them on the counter as he turned to retrieve the water. He brought the teapot over and placed it next to the two cups. He picked up Jim’s, lovingly cradling it in his hands. The academy insignia was still as bright as on that day, so many years before, when they had clumsily moved toward each other. Much later, Jim had admitted feeling the same draw, the same need to get close to the reticent alien who was now his first officer. Spock brought the cup to his mouth and gingerly pressed his lips to the brim where Jim’s mouth had rested so many times. He then carefully returned it to its place and closed the cabinet door. He filled his cup and made his way back to the study.
Spock took his place before the fire, relaxing into the worn and faded easy chair. He looked across the room at the side courtyard viewable through the windows. It had begun to rain. The grayness of the day permeated the room but the heat in his hands was a spot of warmth in an otherwise cold existence. He sipped the tea slowly as he listened to the drops of rain hitting the glass. The water ran down in rivelets and puddled around the flowers that clung tenaciously along the house. Jim’s flowers, planted as a sign of life’s renewal. Two, or was it three years ago?
Spock placed his cup on the end-table and walked over to the small alcove created by the three floor-to-ceiling windows that huddled against the front wall. He sat in the chair on the left of the small, round table placed in the alcove’s center. The tri-di chess set was as it had been since Jim’s death. The game had almost been over. Jim would have checkmated him in three moves. He picked up the white king.
“I think I’ve finally got you, Mr. Spock.” Kirk leaned back, mischief sparkling in his eyes.
“Indeed.” Spock tipped his king, conceding defeat.
“Another game?”
“That would be acceptable.” Spock began to collect the chess pieces, resetting them in their starting positions.
Kirk rose and walked over the the counter behind his desk. He poured himself a drink, nodding his head in question to the Vulcan.
“Thank you, Captain. I believe I shall join you.”
“’Jim’, Spock. We’re off duty, remember?” the human responded as he poured the two drinks. Bringing them over, he handed one to Spock and resettled in his chair.
“Thank you...Jim.” Spock took the glass and started it to his lips.
“Wait.” Kirk brought up his hand, halting the Vulcan’s. “A toast.”
“To?”
“To the best command team in the fleet.” He laughed at Spock’s raised eyebrow. “Why not? That’s what they call us...or didn’t you know that?”
“I have heard this. I merely felt it unbecoming to ‘blow our own horn’?”
Kirk smiled, wistfully. “It’s true though. We are the best.”
Spock returned the smile, his lips slightly lifting on one side. “You have made it so.”
“No, Spock. It’s both of us.” Kirk took a sip from his drink, seeming to reflect before speaking again. “I wouldn’t have done as good a job without you.”
"You are an excellent captain. You would have been so no matter who stood at your side."
"Well, I don't believe that. I can't imagine having this kind of rapport with anyone else."
Spock lowered his head, unable to meet the gaze focused on him. “I am unworthy.”
“Why do you say that?” Kirk leaned forward, attentive.
“It is the truth. I have attempted to deny the friendship that binds us.”
“Psi 2000.”
“Yes. I have long wished to recall my words to you that day. I know I hurt you. My disregard for our relationship...”
“Is long forgotten.” Kirk lightly touched Spock’s arm. “Listen. It did sort of bother me at the beginning. But then I started to really think about it, about us. I guess I even understand in a way. It’s new to me, too. This kind of friendship.”
“You have had many friends.” So many. Spock had been surprised, and then ashamed, and then finally grateful for the obvious affection this man held for him. At times, he seemed to fill the closest spot to his captain’s heart. He didn’t truly understand it, but he would fight any and all who threatened that most cherished of places.
“Yes, I have. But not like this. Not the kind of friendship I have with you.”
“It is different? Different from any other you have had?”
Kirk got up and walked across the room to lean against the partition that separated them from the sleeping area. “Yes, Oh, yes. I trust you. Trust you more than I ever have anyone else. Trust you with my life, with my...”
Spock rose, not wanting space between them, knowing somehow that there could never be space between them again. He came to stand behind the human, to the place he always took. “With your...?”
“With my soul.” Kirk whispered.
Spock felt warmth flow through him, to his very core. Yes. It made perfect sense now. “We are t’hy’la.”
“T’hy’la? What does that mean?” the human turned to study his friend.
“Friend. Brother.” Too soon. Too soon to let known the last step, the final coming together that would surely be theirs. Kirk would have to make that part of the journey on his own, finding his way to the certainty that Spock now felt.
“Is that what you feel for me, Spock?”
The Vulcan did not flinch, his gaze centered on Kirk. “Yes. I cannot hide from the fact that I do feel this for you, that your existence brings completeness to mine.”
“As yours does to mine, my friend.”
The loud crash of thunder drew Spock’s attention back to the present. The storm was intensifying. It would likely last into the evening. He slowly caressed the white king before returning it to its proper place. After a moment’s hesitation, he moved it across the board and set it next to its black counterpart. He returned to his chair, the tea he had left still hot. He sipped from his cup as he watched the world outside.
He must have dozed, because his next awareness was of the chill that had crept into the room as the fire died. The furnace had kicked on, timed to his normal return from the academy, but it would take a while before the house would be sufficiently heated. Luckily, he had finished his tea for the cup lay on the floor by his feet, unbroken. It was still relatively early, not later than eighteen humdred hours. Funny how he still thought in military time. Neither he, nor Jim, had ever really made the full adjustment to retirement from the service.
He was cold again. Over the last year he had found it difficult to adequately regulate his temperature. His sun was gone, and he had taken all the warmth from Spock’s life with him. From the very beginning, Kirk’s cooler body had fired his.
He decided on a hot shower instead of tackling the fire again. Perhaps later, if he were so inclined. He stiffly rose and made his way upstairs to their bedroom. The large room had been the deciding factor when they had bought the house. Light and airy, it dominated the second floor, the large windows and stone fireplace making it the nucleus of their home.
Spock undressed and deposited his clothes in the hamper under the bathroom counter before stepping into the large shower stall. He turned the hot water up as far as it would go and let the room fill with steam. He filled his hand with soap and lathered it against his body, spreading it down his arms and chest.
“Spock.”
Spock whirled at the sound of his captain’s voice. They were being forced to share a room, the mix-up at the hotel where they were staying while on shoreleave leaving them one short. He hadn’t thought Kirk would be back so soon from seeing McCoy settled. The shower stall door was open and Kirk stood just outside, naked. “Jim?”
“Spock, I...” Kirk reached out hesitantly, his gaze locked on the Vulcan.
Spock stood frozen as the human entered the stall, the cool arms slowly wrapping themselves around his waist. Kirk’s head tilted back, always watching Spock’s face as he pulled him tight. There was hunger in Kirk’s eyes. Hunger, and a question.
“Yes. Yes.” Spock brought one arm around the smaller man, and returned the embrace. He cupped the back of Kirk’s head with the other hand and pulled it close. Their mouths met, and suddenly they were both clinging to each other, trying to get closer, their tongues dualing as moans of pleasure, and finally released passions, broke free.
Kirk ended the kiss with a gasp. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Spock. So very long.”
“And I you, t’hy’la.” Spock’s hands rested on the human’s lush buttocks, molding and squeezing them as he brought their hips together.
“Oh, god, yes.” Kirk’s head dropped back as he undulated against Spock, his hands now holding tightly to his shoulders.
Spock pulled the human against him so that Kirk’s face rested against his chest as they continued to move, pressed together as they reached for completion.
Kirk moaned, his movements becoming faster as their genitals rubbed together, the hardened cocks sliding against one another.
Spock felt his eminent release and froze, his seed spewing forth as he groaned out his orgasm. His cock continued to pulse out its milky fluid, and he felt Kirk go limp in his arms as his own release came. Their semen collected on their bellies before being washed away by the warm spray from above.
They remained holding fast to each other as their breathing slowed. The shower rained on them as the steam closed out the rest of the world.
“T’hy’la...”
“Yes, Spock. In all ways...forever.” Kirk voice was hushed.
“You understand what it means?”
“It means we belong together. As friends, as brothers...as lovers. I’ve never felt like this with anyone before. I don’t ever want to lose it.” Kirk gently laid a kiss on Spock’s chest.
“Nor I, t’hy’la. We will be together always.”
A sob tore from Spock’s throat as he pulled his hand away from his now flaccid organ. He had never done this before, in all this long year, never found release from the desire that still held him. He let the water wash away the semen that was spattered on his stomach, and then turned it off and exited the shower.
As he dried himself, he remembered how they had finally pulled themselves apart, taking their lovemaking to the large bed. The rest of the evening had been spent in discovering all there was to know of each other’s bodies, and each other’s hearts.
The convenient need to share a room had turned out to be one of Kirk’s machinations. He had made sure to be the one to make the reservations, knowing that he and Spock would end up sharing a room when presented with one less than needed. He had planned well.
The next morning, Dr. McCoy had wondered at their mood, and the calm that would follow them for the rest of their lives.
The storm was hitting its peak, and the tree near the bedroom window threatened to make its way in as its branches clutched at the panes. There was a loud boom and the small lamp on the bedside table went out. Nature still had the power to make herself known. The soft glow of light from outside was enough to see by as Spock made his way to the closet and pulled out his robe. He shrugged into it and started to close the door when a flash of color halted his movement. He reached in and withdrew the sea-green tunic that hung there.
Green had ever been Jim’s color, bringing out the shades of emerald and gold that flecked his large eyes. Green, the color of jealousy. Spock had always wondered at that. Why green? A human “saw red” when upset. Not like a Vulcan. A Vulcan truly saw green when, his emotions loose, he saw a threat to what he had, a rival for what was his.
“Where are you going?” Spock sat in the chair against the wall, eyeing his lover. Kirk was casually dressed but there was an edge to him, a nervousness, as he finished getting ready for an obvious night out.
“I’ve got a meeting with the base commander. It might last a while, so I wouldn’t wait up if I were you.” Kirk nervously wiped his hands on the towel he had brought from the bath room and gave himself another look in the vanity mirror.
“We are on leave. Why would the base commander wish to see you?” Spock was having difficulty keeping his tone neutral.
Kirk shrugged. “He didn’t say. Listen, if it goes on too long, I’ll call you.” He walked over to Spock and quickly kissed him before heading for the door. He was gone before Spock could reply.
He remained seated, all his energy focused on bringing his erratic emotions into check. Kirk had been acting oddly ever since they arrived the day before. They had eaten at a nearby restaurant, but Kirk’s attention had been constantly on the doorway as people came and went; he barely touched his dinner. Spock had felt his anger rise as a small, blonde woman passed their table and the human’s gaze followed her progress across the room. The rest of the meal past in silence.
Spock bolted up, inadvertantly mimicking his captain’s frenetic pacing. There was nothing to fear. Whatever was going on with Kirk, it had nothing to do with them, what they were to each other. He had to believe that. He deliberately slowed his breathing, calming his body. This was getting him nowhere.
He grabbed the book lying on the bedside table and returned to his chair, determined to forget his fears and the questions swirling through his mind. He stared at the pages. The words flowed together, their meaning lost. He tossed the book aside in defeat.
Four hours later he sat in the same chair, still chasing an elusive peace. Once he had almost gone looking for Kirk, and only his pride had kept him from falling so low. They had been lovers for almost a year, a year that had chased away all the shadows that had followed him from his childhood on Vulcan, to the halls of Starfleet Academy, and out to the stars. Or so he had thought. Now those shadows were threatening to destroy his hard-won serenity.
*Jim would not betray me.* He knew this, so why was it so hard to dismiss the feelings that were inundating him, choking off the logical part of his mind that knew Kirk would never treat him in such a manner?
Spock bolted upright at the sound of the tone from the key-card.
Kirk came in, a look of surprise flitting across his face. “You still up? It’s almost three hundred hours.”
“I am quite aware of the time.” Spock tightly gripped the arms of the chair. “Where have you been?”
His lover walked slowly over until he was standing right along side Spock. “What’s wrong?” He softly asked.
Spock looked up, fear and anger making him reckless. “Where have you been?” he repeated.
“Don’t use that tone with me, Spock. Where do you think I’ve been?”
“I do not know.”
“But you have your suspicions.” Kirk took a deep breath. “I thought you knew me better than that.”
“Jim...” He stood up abruptly, crossing the room to put space between them. He stopped at the bedside. He could feel the anger building and wondered at it, just as he wondered at Kirk’s evasions. “Why will you not answer me?”
“Because I don’t think I should have to. I don’t like what you’re implying and I won’t stand for it.”
Spock spun around and three steps brought him to Kirk. He grabbed the smaller man’s shoulders and shook him roughly. “You will not stand for it? You are mine, and I will not allow you to-”
Kirk brought his hands up and shoved hard, breaking the Vulcan’s hold. The human stumbled back, livid with rage. “Don’t you ever do that to me again! What the hell’s the matter with you?”
Spock looked at his hands, shocked at his behavior. What was he doing? He moved over to the bed and slumped down on it, cradling his head in his hands. “Leave me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Kirk came over and sat next to him. “What is it, Spock?” He gently caressed the Vulcan’s bowed head.
“I do not know.” The muffled words were filled with pain. “I do not understand why I am reacting this way. You have never given me any reason to doubt your faithfulness. But tonight, the woman...”
“What woman?”
“The one at the restaurant. You were taken by her. Your attention was for her alone.”
“Oh, Spock.” Kirk put one arm around Spock’s shoulders, and with his other hand pushed Spock's head up until their eyes met. “I love you, don’t you know that? That woman...” He shoved his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box. “Here. This is for you.”
“I do not understand.” Spock took it, watching Kirk questioningly.
“That woman was a jeweler. I was looking for her at the restaurant to pick this up. But there was a problem with my order, so I had to meet her again tonight.” Kirk gave him a quick hug and then brought his arm down. “Open it.”
Spock undid the ribbon tied around the box and then lifted the cover. Nestled in a bed of cotton was a white-gold ring, runes of ancient Vulcan engraved along the broad band.
“It’s a pre-reform verse of two warriors' love...or part of it, anyway. The whole thing wouldn’t fit.” Kirk smiled at him. “Happy anniversary, love.”
Spock’s throat tightened and the words he so desperately wished to say would not come. Finally, he was able to speak. “I do not deserve you.”
His lover’s laugh was light and filled Spock with an overpowering graditude for what had been given him when this man had taken him into his life.
“No, you don’t. But you’re stuck with me, anyway.”
“Jim, it is not our anniversary. It will not be a year until-”
“Next Tuesday, but I thought I’d better give it to you now. You know, jealousy doesn’t become you,” Kirk teased.
“I am truly sorry, t’hy’la. I still do not understand why I would behave in such a way.”
“Don’t worry about it...just don’t do it again. Okay?”
Spock smiled at his lover as he slipped the ring onto his finger and slipped Kirk’s tunic over his head, tossing the garment on the near-by chair. The green material was swiftly followed by the rest of their clothes. They made love slowly and passionately.
Spock replaced the tunic and closed the closet door. The storm was making it darker than it normally would be at this hour, but after all these years he knew his way around the home that had seen so much of their love.
He returned downstairs, the house finally warm enough to be tolerable. Just as he pulled the candles from the kitchen cupboard, the lights flickered and then glowed to life. He poured himself a second cup of tea and settled back in the study to finish the essays he needed to review. His students had worked very hard on them and they would go far in determining who would be allowed to stay at the academy. He could not, in all conscienceness, leave them ungraded.
He worked on them for several hours. Finally, he settled the last on top of the pile. He gathered them together, put them in a large envelope and took it into the foyer. He left it on the entry table next to his briefcase. It would be easily found.
He began a sedate walk through the house, his steps slow but sure. Over the years they had filled it with mementos of past adventures and new experiences. Here, an interesting mineral from a planet half a galaxy away. There, a crystal sailing ship from a thankful student. He strolled from room to room, each one a gallery of their lives together. Finally he started back up the stairs. He stopped at the top landing to gaze at the picture mounted there. Vulcan, as the sun set beyond Vulcan’s Forge. It had been many years since they had revisited the planet of his birth. As Kirk had aged, the heavier gravity and thinner air had become more and more difficult for him to cope with. Spock smiled. Unlike that day, so long in the past, when having finally realized what his abnormal behavior had forewarned the night of Kirk's first gift to him, they journeyed to the place of marriage to become one.
Spock woke to the familiar feel of a cool body in his arms, the golden strands that had a tendency to tickle his nose, under his chin. He breathed in the beloved scent of...his bondmate. Never had he imagined that he could love Jim more than he already had. Jim. His Jim. Now and forever, his Jim. Deep in his mind he could feel the tendrils of the bond that, even now, continued the process of binding them together. Pon farr was over. They had the rest of their lives to explore the gift given by that biological imperative.
The human stirred in his arms. "Jim?"
"Hm, mm?"
"Did you sleep well?"
Kirk turned and wrapped Spock in a tight embrace. "Oh, yes. I slept great. But considering what we've been doing for the last three days, I'd say I needed it."
"I did not injure you?" He slid his hand down Kirk's side, bringing it to rest on his buttocks.
"No, I'm fine...really. It was nothing like I thought it would be. You were so wound up these last few weeks, I thought for sure we'd have a difficult time. But you were wonderful. Maybe a bit more forceful than normal..."
"My need for you has only grown with time. It is a wonder I did not inflict myself on you more than I did."
"You could never ask more of me than I'm willing to give. I wish there was some way to convince you of that." The human looked down for a moment, deep in thought. He finally looked up and closed his eyes in concentration."Maybe there is..."
Spock smiled as he felt the tentative reach of Kirk's mind to his. "You do that very well."
"I've had a great teacher," Kirk said with a laugh and opened his eyes. Sobering suddenly, he looked up and Spock saw a reflection of the wonder that shone from his own eyes. "Will it always be this way, Spock?"
Slowly, he brought his hand up and touched the human's lips, tracing across them and then lightly up the side of his face. "Always."
They kissed then, deep and long, drowning in the taste of each other, wanting more of the sweet fulfillment that was forever after bound up in their minds, their bodies, and their souls.
Spock unclasped his hand from the bannister railing. The wood had cracked under the pressure of his curled fingers. It is almost time, time for the pain to end. He continued into the bedroom and turned down the bed covers. The rain still fell as the storm raged, and he found himself once again drawn to the window by its majesty. A flash of lightning momentarily dimmed the artificial light. The sky was on fire with nature's unleashed fury. He looked down into the side courtyard, his attention caught by the flowerbed that hugged the building wall. In a morass of mud, flowers, once strong and alive, floated in their watery grave. The sight hit him like a blow, and he quickly turned away.
He moved to the dresser and open the bottom drawer. Inside was an ornately carved box of laquered wood. He pulled it out and placed it on top of the bureau. Inside, ribbons and medals lined up like soldiers, each a testament to lives given in the service of others. He picked up the large one on the left and remembered.
"Jim, you must sit still." Spock spoke quietly. He did not wish to be heard by the people surrounding them as the man at the podium continued his speech.
"He's taking too long. I'm going to fall asleep if I don't move around," Kirk whispered.
"T'hy'la, he is only trying to properly acknowledge all you have done for-"
"Oh, hush. I don't want to hear it anymore. If that's the case, how come they're not giving you one?" Kirk turned wide, innocent-seeming eyes at his bondmate.
Spock sighed. "We have already discussed this. I do not wish to be recognized in this manner."
"Well, neither do I. Damn, if I knew they were going to do all this, I never would have let you talk me into retiring."
"You have known about this for several weeks. Your speech-"
"Don't remind me." Kirk turned and smiled at the two women behind them. The looks of disapproval they had been directing his and Spock's way instantly disappearing from their faces. "Sorry. We'll try to keep it down." He looked back at Spock. "See what you did."
Eyebrows raised, his retort was stifled when the speaker turned toward them.
"So, in recognition of the many years of distinguished service, the United Federation of Planets is pleased to present to Admiral James T. Kirk, its highest award." The president of the UFP motioned him forward. Kirk rose from his seat on the stage to the accompaniment of thunderous applause. Spock watched with pride as his bondmate of fifty years walked straight and sure to the podium. Even at eighty-five, Kirk still cut a handsome figure. He could pass for a man on the high side of sixty. His body was still firm and his face still handsome, though etched with the character that time had added.
Kirk reached the dais, smiling at the middle-aged leader of the Federation who was obviously in awe of the living legend. After receiving the ribbon bedecked medal, he took his place in front of the dais. He turned to Spock with a smile before facing the thousands who had come to honor him at the end of his career. He cleared his throat and began to speak:
"Starfleet had been my life, my home, for all my adult life. This medal," He held it up, turning it to catch the light as the ribbons fluttered in the gentle breeze, "will always hold a place of honor in my heart. But I've received far more from my years of service than I could ever repay. For it is in Starfleet that I found everything that gave my life meaning and purpose."
Spock continued to gaze at his bondmate, though he was only half listening. He had heard the speech several times already while playing surrogate audience during Kirk's many rehearsals. So it was a surprise when Lieutenant Michaels, Kirk's soon-to-be-ex attache, gently nudged him, a look of expectation on his face. It was then that Spock realized he was being called forward, the applause around him growing stronger when he finally stood and hesitantly moved to Kirk's side. There had been no hint of this in the original speech. He gave Kirk a chastising look, a look that turned to one of utter shock as he was taken into a strong embrace.
Spock replaced the medal and firmly closed the box, leaving it centered atop the bureau. Even now, almost twenty years later, that totally out of character public show of affection had the power to bring a flush of color to his face. Kirk never explained why he had done what he did, why he found the need to include him so dramatically in the spotlight that should have been Kirk's alone. Whenever Spock brought it up, the human would only smile and tell him that it seemed the logical thing to do at the time.
Pondering it now, he realized that, perhaps, it was the only answer there could be. Over the years, people had come in and out of their lives, as ships, new posting...and death, had taken them away and out of reach. The only constant for each was the other. They had shared much. What was one small ceremony?
Opening the top right drawer, Spock removed a large envelope and positioned it against the wooden box. "Saavik" was scrawled across its cream-colored surface.
He walked to the bed and sat down, kicking off his shoes as he lay back on its soft and inviting contours. He turned on his side and rested a hand on the empty pillow next to his. He breathed deep, fighting to recapture the scent, the feeling, anything of his bondmate that might still cling to the bed that had witnessed so much love...and the flight of Kirk's soul as the human's body had finally given out.
"Spock?"
He woke with a start, almost afraid to turn to the sound of Kirk's fragile call. "Yes, t'hy'la?"
The hand that grasped his was cold and held no strength. "I had a dream, Spock."
Spock rose on one elbow and pulled Kirk over to nestle against him. "What did you dream?"
"I dreamt that I was on the bridge of the Enterprise, the first one. Everyone was there. Bones, Scotty, everyone. Everyone but you. I missed you so much, but I knew that you were needed somewhere else. It was so lonely without you."
"It was only a dream. I am here, I will always be here."
"But I won't."
Spock touched Kirk's brow, gently stroking the white hair that haloed the beloved face. "Do not say that. You will not leave me, you cannot."
Kirk gaze intently at him, the old determination and indomitable will still there. "I don't have a lot of time left. You know that...no, please, let me finish." He placed a hand on Spock's side, pressing against the flesh over his heart. "You have so much left to give, so much of life left to experience. I don't want that life shortened because of me."
They had had this argument several times over the years. It had never been resolved, neither willing to give in to the other. Now it would have to be.
"Please, t'hy'la, do not force me to stay behind. I wish to go with you. " Spock lowered his head, his voice a mere whisper as he fought the pain that threatened to engulf him.
"I know you do." Now it was Kirk giving comfort as his hand moved to the bowed head. His fingers threaded through the graying strands of hair. "But you'll leave so much undone. There are so many people who still need you, who would want you to stay."
"And what of me? What of what I desire?"
"Spock-"
"No, do not ask this of me. I cannot do it, Jim. I cannot."
"I understand, love. I really do. If it was me that had to stay behind, I don't know if I'd be able to either. We've been together for so long, I don't even remember what it was like not to have you at my side. But wouldn't you expect the same thing of me? To not follow you until the proper time?"
"For me, it would not be life, only existence. You are different. You could still love, still-"
"No, you're wrong. I'm not so different. You're part of me, Spock. That can never change." Kirk quieted, and his arms surrounded his bondmate. They held each other for a while, each lost in their own pain until the human spoke again. "Will you promise me one thing at least?"
Spock brought his head up, the tears falling unashamingly. "If I can."
"Promise me you'll wait one year. Then, if you still want to leave..."
"Jim, no-"
"Yes, Spock, please, promise me. Just one year. Then you'd know if it's what you want, if life can still hold a reason for you to continue or if you still want to follow me."
Spock was silent a long time, the words choked off by the ache in his throat. Finally he nodded and brought his head down to rest on Kirk's chest, the sluggish beat of the human's heart a constant reminder of what he was soon to lose. In the morning, Jim was gone.
The rain had stopped. Moonlight shone brightly through the bedroom window as the clouds broke apart and allowed the stars back. Spock gazed at the stream of light as it beckoned him forward and, knowing it for what it was, smiled. It had been a long and arduous wait, but he had persevered and seen his way through his year in limbo. The lonliness had been like a dark and heavy mantle weighing him down, as he tried to live his life as more than a test of endurance. There had been days of respite, when his work, and the people who filled his world, had been almost enough. But they were inevitably followed by a yearning that caught his breath, as the full weight of what he had lost came crashing down once again. But always, even in the depths of his despair, there had been the sweet dream of what lay ahead.
It was time. Spock turned on his back and let his mind spin out into the eternal ether, casting his line. With a wild joy, he felt the tug at the other end of the golden strand that connected him to his own safe harbour. Jim had known the way home, and now eagerly waited for him at his soul's shore. He slowed his heart, and his breath stilled as his year of solitude and loss came to an end. Wading into the sea of forever, Spock was met by the shining essence that was James Kirk. As one, they turned and faced eternity. As it had been in life, so would it be in death. They would take this last adventure together.
Most mysterious calling harbour
So far but yet so near,
I can see the day when my hair's full gray
And I finally disappear.
One Particular Harbour
Jimmy Buffett 1983
Finis
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-05-30 03:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-30 08:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-30 01:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-02 04:54 pm (UTC)How brave of Spock to have gone through that year!! And what a brilliant compromise they found in the end, after having talked so often about it (like in Duty's Call).
I still get wet eyes when I think of how lonely Spock must have felt, I understand it very well.
And the end - oh how wonderful!!! His golden Human leads Spock to their common harbour and they'll be together forever indeed, just as it was meant to be.
Death stories are nearly unbearable for me, usually, yet I so like this one.
*sob*
Gorgeous!!!
Kindly,
T'Racionn
no subject
Date: 2011-01-03 12:57 pm (UTC)I'm not one for death stories, either, which is why it was so strange when I had the urge to write one. But nothing can keep Kirk and Spock apart, so it wasn't too bad, was it?
no subject
Date: 2011-01-03 02:01 pm (UTC)You are very, VERY welcome. And besides...I just said the truth.
Terrible as it sounds, I love when I hear that the story has brought a person to tears.
Ah, it doesn't sound terrible. I understand what you mean: the tears proof that you reached the reader, that you moved them and that you could transport the depth of emotion with the story.
And all of this you did perfectly. I still feel it.
I'm not one for death stories, either, which is why it was so strange when I had the urge to write one.
I think it happens to many of the writers at some point, giving K/S their image of how they handle a situation like that.
But nothing can keep Kirk and Spock apart, so it wasn't too bad, was it?
Bad? You're kidding? It was wonderful, sad and highly emotional but so, so wonderful!
I have to say I had read Shadow Play before (spent most of the Sundday reading) and it touched me already. The scene where Spock places his head on Kirk's lap, pleading him not to send him away almost broke my heart, ind a god way of course. I loved the story it deeply.
Aaanyway, back to that story here (sorry for the confusion, am just so filled with emotions): I can't find the words of how much it got me. Spock's long, lonesome year and his fond memories, the storm outside, the white king he placed beside the black one, his joy when he finally meets the essence of Kirk again - magnificent, with all the sadness.
So no, nothing can ever keep them apart. Nothing. Not ever.
Love,
T'Racionn
no subject
Date: 2011-01-04 12:26 pm (UTC)Thank you! Shadow Play is sort of a "guilty pleasure" for me, so it's especially nice to hear that someone has read and loved the story. Like AU's, Mirror stories aren't a great favorite, though I love both.
Aaanyway, back to that story here (sorry for the confusion, am just so filled with emotions): I can't find the words of how much it got me. Spock's long, lonesome year and his fond memories, the storm outside, the white king he placed beside the black one, his joy when he finally meets the essence of Kirk again - magnificent, with all the sadness.
So, again, thanks for your wonderful comments! I love that the story was able to affect you so deeply.