“That was a different situation. I was in complete control of what I was doing.” When Jim raises an eyebrow—somehow, he’ll make Spock lose control?—Spock repeats tightly, “I could not guarantee my actions.”
He tries not to think about the tiny apartment around him and how it might become his home instead. It’s much too cold, the air too thick, the amenities painfully behind what he’s used to. But at least he’ll have Jim, so it will be bearable.
I said don’t lecture me about those evils. I know this is not a dignified position for the Chief Medical Officer of the starship Enterprise. Why else do you think I’m still here? I don’t want to go staggering through the halls like this. Jim would have my hide. He runs a tight ship, that man, a tight sh—
Damn it, there I go again. Can’t stop thinking about it. Tight. I’m tight, there’s one for sure. Snockered. The ship is tight, ever since the esteemed James T. Kirk took over three years ago. And my pants sure as hell are tight, let me tell you that. But I’m not gonna think about it, no sirree bob, I’m gonna do something else.
In which two space-faring gentlemen find themselves stranded in a convenient cave, and one of them finds himself battling an untimely case of Pon Farr… This short fic is simply hilarious and tickles my Austen-loving fancy something fierce.
Kirk strode onto the bridge that first day, and each of the bridge crew stood to attention. He made his rounds, strong arms laying relaxed at his sides, a smile on his charmingly boyish face, introducing himself in-kind to each officer and shaking their hands with both of his own.
When he got to Spock, the effect was almost immediate. He sensed it as Kirk approached, that nameless pull that almost shocked Spock into stepping toward the man. It wasn’t a scent so much as it was an instinct– a sixth-sense that Spock recognized immediately, if only because he had met so many people and he’d never felt this before.