You really do know how to paint a picture with words, and I adore you for it. The neon sign outside, the interior of the garage with Jim lit in profile and the radio playing nearby. Just lovely, and it really does look like Jim (and his location) are literally glowing like a beacon for Spock to gravitate towards.

I'm also really taken with the way you've captured the physicality of Jim and Spock as well, and again it's quite telling. Jim with "a tightness around his eyes that belies the casual pose and longer hair. He is still lean, still built like a Point: strong but not heavy" and Spock "pain blossoms in his chest. He cannot suppress it".

You've taken a different approach with each; Jim is described with the exterior physical, and Spock with the interior. With Spock being so internalised by his logic and emotions, he's injured from the inside out. In the meantime Jim is grounded in every sense of the word, even working on cars and bikes instead of ships, but still ready to run. The balance between them both is further emphasised by the fact that this time it's Spock willingly going into a 'prostitution of self' situation. It's a quality he recognised in Jim about 3-4 chapters ago (I think), and now he's doing the same. *happy sigh*

Again the link between the two pulls them into a tighter orbit than simply by being in the same space. It's enough for Jim to get his anger back and for Spock to reveal more than he realises:

The wave of his grief washes over Spock through the gossamer thin connection they have come to share; less than a bond, more than a simple compatibility. It twists his gut and makes him nauseated. He knows this grief even though the source of it is a mystery. He feels the chasm within himself that reciprocates and empathizes, however unwillingly. He raises his eyes, cannot know that they are haunted. "I was not informed of your loss, but I grieve with thee," he whispers.

Jim pulls in a shaky breath, perhaps relaxing into the resonance between them. "I know," he admits, deflating. He grips Spock by the shoulder again in a gesture of solidarity, of forgiveness. "I can't explain how, but I know you do."

Moving on to the machinations that have kept various wheels turning in their absence, it seems that everything is going to hell:

"EPAS is close to failing," Spock tells him as gently as possible. "The infrastructure is damaged beyond repair. The leadership is reduced to in-fighting and pointless bickering since F-Sec assumed control. It is only through President Wescott's patronage that Pike has been able to commission a vessel to replace the damaged Stalwart.

Aside from the fact that they're obviously a brilliant command team that the crew respected and trusted, morale has obviously taken a major hit since they were separated. That can have the most damaging impact of all, so I can only imagine how reinvigorated people will feel when they return. If the situation with Nero is that bad, and EPAS is imploding, having two strong, trusted individuals return to take up the mantle is going to have a big impact. They're going to have a hell of a time of course, that's a given, but the reserve of trust they've each generated can't be underestimated.



Spock nods, exhausted by the appeal. He passes a hand across his brow and realizes it is shaking. Jim notices, of course he does. His hands reach up to frame Spock's face, thumbs resting on his high cheekbones, fingers splayed against his neck, and it's almost too much contact, so long desired.
"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry I wouldn't let you in. I'm sorry I couldn't turn to you when I know you wanted me to. It's just, the mindmeld and," his face contorts and there's a flash of anger, "I'm not used to having anyone to...I'm not used to having..."
Spock steps forward and envelops him in a crushing hug, Vulcan-strong. "Please endeavour to become accustomed."
Jim laughs and his hands come up to fist in the back of Spock's coat. "Don't let's do this again, okay?" he chuckles, muffled by Spock's shoulder. "The sappy reunion will kill my macho image."

But what fluff it is. Beautifully, achingly understated where so much is said with so few words. Jim has somehow managed to explain (in part) about the mind meld rejection and Spock is telling him that he's there to stay ... until he has to get rushed to hospital.

And then you continue with ... well I don't know what to call it. Fluffy angst? Flangst? Whatever. It's beautiful:

Spock tries to focus on the questions they ask him, tries to provide more than monosyllabic responses to those questions, but Jim's very presence distracts him. Kirk is a bundle of tightly controlled energy, wrapped in his own arms, the fingers of one hand pressed against his lips as though to stop himself from butting in. Pressure builds in Spock's chest, bleak like something unrequited, more painful than he remembers. He is overcome by the knowledge that he will not cope if Jim wants to settle for less than everything they can be. He will not be able to bear it.

The man has practically killed himself to make sure Jim is aware of the offer, that he knows Spock is wanting back into his life again, and that the odds are looking pretty bloody bleak unless they get back up in the black and do something about it. He doesn't want to be Captain, but believes in Jim so much that he'll do what it takes to get him in the centre seat. Fortunately others also think the same, which may be how Spock convinced Pike to get him be the one to make the offer.

Again, MUCH love for any conversations between Jim and McCoy. Bones can read Jim like a book so quickly that Jim is literally squirming in his seat - absolutely perfect! The fact that he's sussing out Jim's motives and possible actions while they're watching Spock get treated shows that Jim doesn't want to move too far away. Even though he trusts Bones implicitly he's already wanting to get Spock out of there to look after him. Again, it's about Jim having a hard time putting his faith in others, only trusting a situation when he's there to take direct control. Such a little thing to note, but to me it's a telling gesture about Jim's history.

It's a measure of Jim's respect for Pike that he stops to shower and change before charging over to see Pike, and its one that works well. I had to smile at Bones bitching about the trip but when Jim has a goal in mind all of that is irrelevant. Same way that Spock's lungs shredding from the inside out was irrelevant when he had to get to Jim. Different scale of course, but I liked it!

Pike is fabulous:

"I did everything but offer you your own planet to rule over, so please explain why you've finally graced headquarters with your presence?"
"You're the one who sent Spock after me, so don't insult my intelligence. He's in hospital now, did you know that?" It's a cruel opening, but the only ace up his sleeve so he has to play it and play it hard.

And then ... *flails* ... and then hurrah! It's the grand reveal of Spock's words! Delivered in SUCH a way that had me sighing:

"He said 'it should have been me,'" Pike snaps angrily. "You were more than halfway dead and all Spock wanted to do was trade places with you. Do you have any idea what that's worth, or how completely that compromises you as a command team?"
Jim feels something desperate lurch inside him. "Does it?" he snaps. "Or does it make us exactly what you need?"


Spock and Jim are both so dedicated to the greater good that they tried to keep their personal relationship a secret. Putting aside the fact that it's against regulations, they wanted to keep everything on the up and up. It is therefore, particularly poignant that absolutely everyone around them knew what was going on. It's at the point now where they don't even have to say anything:

McCoy is there when Spock comes around. It's a small mercy, he supposes, to find someone familiar watching over you at such a vulnerable moment. Still, he cannot help the pain he feels. He assumed Jim would be there. Assumptions are dangerous things.
"Spock."
"Doctor."
"Jim only left because I told him to."

See that bit right there? McCoy knew who Spock would be wanting and was right there with the answer.

So. Spock has well and truly put himself out there, finally admits to himself and McCoy what he has done, and then promptly discharges himself from hospital. That's not about avoiding treatment or Jim, but rather seeking out some territory where he feels safe ... and then he invites Jim inside.

*puddle*

The note contains an address printed in Spock's distinctive lettering.
Jim slaps it against his thigh thoughtfully and sucks his teeth. So this is how it's going to be.

They're moving to the next level of negotiation and it's time for Jim to make the next move.

I can't wait.

Of course they were going to encounter a battle. Having sat through the Council meeting where they struggled to make people understand just how bad it is, naturally they're going to be thrown back into more of the same. Good to see Taylor step up for a change. It seems that the man may operate well under pressure from a command perspective, but when they're in a holding pattern and everything becomes 'housework', the man can't find his arse with both hands.


Against the tense silence that surrounds them, Jim knows the rest of the ship is scrambling for their stations.

I really enjoyed that little pressure bubble of quiet, like the calm before the storm and they're in it together. That feeling of partnership gets carried through the scene as they get dressed in sync and then make their way to the ship, and Jim's sense of pride when he sees it waiting no doubt reinforces his sense of home. The sense of mutual awareness that they've got going on is going to play well into the 'space' that they'll have around them when they both assume more responsibility too. It's like they've got each other to rely on, and anything outside of that is a bonus.

The action is just stunning in this chapter, and you've captured the sense of urgency and chaos in a way that totally bypasses melodrama, which makes me fall in love with your writing all over again. There's a kind of purity in the way you portray the crew when they're in these situations. There's no cocky jibes or glib remarks, everyone distills into their base essence and expertise to get the job done.

Hoo boy, and then there's the meld.

Jim watches Spock's expression harden. He knows that look but has never seen it on Spock before. It's the expression of a man who's backed into a corner; someone who's only remaining option is one he'd never otherwise consider.


Clearly this is a Vulcan who does not have good associations with mind melds, and this is making me very curious indeed. The experience he has with his patient is clearly awful, but Jim - unlike McCoy - doesn't retreat. McCoy knows that Spock needs his dignity and leaves him to it, but Jim is willing to stay until the bitter end, and pull him back.

Jim can only hear the desperation in it, the total loss of self. He shifts his grip, takes Spock's face firmly, frames it in his gloves. "Listen to me, come on," he encourages. "Get it together."


That reaction is going to make things VERY interesting. He's nearly been strangled by Spock, has seen Spock lose control and lapse into terror, and he's still there. JIM, GET A CLUE! *facepalm*

Spock seems to be equally clueless for the moment, perhaps he's just so punch drunk exhausted that he can't put two and two together.


"Okay," Kirk sighs, putting down his PADD decisively. "The ship's not on fire anymore, and you've signed absolutely everything including the kitchen roster. This can wait until you've slept or meditated or plugged yourself into a wall socket. We're going to sickbay."
Spock watches his Point One stalk around the desk to stand, hands on hips, waiting. Although the Lieutenant seems to draw the line at manhandling him, Spock is not certain the threat is entirely absent. Jim appears most determined.
"Very well," he says, and stands smartly, ignoring the burning in his shoulder and the whole body ache.
When they reach the corridor and Kirk is still following him, Spock pauses, frowning. "I do not require your assistance."
Jim’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. "You got it," he shrugs, backing away a few steps before turning.
Spock's frown deepens as Jim walks away. He is too tired, too drained to process the intricacies of human behaviour, yet their exchange remains troubling. Although his feet carry him towards sickbay, his attention remains fixed in that moment, captive to a sense of vague loss and confusion.


It seems that Spock can only accept Jim's assistance when he's not feeling like a sack of shit. I'd also guess that he's still vulnerable from the meld, and so physical contact from someone like Jim when he's in that state would either make things better or worse. Jim's confused by the refuff as well, but not to worry Jim! You get McCoy AND Spock fighting over you!

Oh and Harris? USELESS. Taylor may have moments of competence, but his shortcomings are totally amplified by Taylor. This clear gap of ability in the command structure is thrown into stark relief (hell, even the lighting in the scene plays on that) with Scotty's disbelief.

"Lieutenant Kirk, I require your assistance."
"No way!" McCoy scowls. "I saw him first."
"You may have your pick of what staff Lieutenant Scott can spare," Spock counters.
"Those hacks!"
"I consider the matter settled, doctor," Spock says coldly, and gesturing at Jim, sets off towards the bridge.


Fabulous. They've been shot at, injured, the ship is limping, Harris is a complete bonehead, but thank for our boys. Scotty knows what he can do to save the ship, so now it's up to Spock and Jim to get enough ammunition for their argument ... and they're going to do it because there's no-one else more suitable for the job. Even better than saving the day? They're saving the day AND flirting .. When it's not a matter of life and death, Jim can relax enough to have a little fun. I wonder if that's a self-defense mechanism on his part, or if he does it to disarm people even more stressed than he is, like McCoy and Spock. Interesting ...

"Your self confidence is remarkable."
Breathless from the climb, Jim winks. "It's one of my most appealing traits."
"Indeed." Spock grips his forearm strongly, pulling him out of the tube.
Jim's grin widens. "You should get to know my others."
"I believe I am growing familiar with them."
They pause before the double doors to the bridge, and it's not quite a shared smile, because Spock wouldn't go for that, but it's something. Then Spock palms the door control and they're on.

The family angst! The strategizing! The flirting! Oh my!

Wow that starts out with a powerful reaction from Jim. Winona's arrival has thrown Jim completely off guard and so he just shuts down and turns to the person he's already starting to rely on to feel centered. Looking after Spock in that situation - getting him tea and a towel - is helping him keep a veneer of civility on the situation, but it's highly charged all the same.

Silence descends and Spock believes it is an uncomfortable one. The scene is incredibly domestic, openly emotional in a way his home life on Vulcan never was. He is unsure of protocol, but is instinctively aware that Winona must resent his presence, at least on some level. Still, his loyalty lies with Jim, who clearly does not want to be alone with his mother.


Spock doesn't know what's going on, and becomes a witness to a situation he can't and won't turn his back on. It's such a sensory overload, and I adore it. Spock's scandalised a the language Jim uses, and then the hand-holding that has him turning his back to give them a modicum of privacy. I get the feeling that if Spock wasn't there Jim would have either shut her out completely or it could have degenerated into a lot of posturing. I think they're both influencing each other's behaviours in ways they're only just becoming aware of.

Jim scrapes his teeth over his top lip and turns away from Spock. With slow deliberation, he returns to his mother, like a fish on the end of the line, fighting every step of the way. He sets his mug down on the bench, eyes fixed on the handle as he toys with it.

"I know this is hard for you," she offers, taking a small step closer, fingertips resting on the bench beside his own. "We've never been good at this; Sam is the only one who ever knows what to say," she shrugs, boldly covering his hand with her own. "Somewhere along the way, you and I just stopped speaking the same language."

"Mom, we never even used the same alphabet," he says quietly, but his hand flips, his fingers close around hers, holding on.

Spock looks away, discomfited by the intimacy. He hears the shift of feet, the squeak of her raincoat against the bench top and knows they are embracing. The ginger tea steams comfortingly, the spicy scent wafting upwards across his face as he studiously contemplates the view from Jim's window.

GORGEOUS, and then when I think you can't possibly get more lyrical you give us this:

In lieu of reply and backlit by the light from within the hotel room, Spock's little huff of air is unusually visible. It gives more away than his careful neutrality ever will. There is a hint of disapproval for his language, an inherent disagreement with his assessment, as well as the restraint that keeps him from protesting. The breath floats away into the darkness, falling out of the beams of light and into Jim's memory.


This chapter makes me hurt so much for Jim and Spock. It's a chapter that deals with so much of their past, and in Spock's case a trans-dimensional future, that both of them have to work hard to stay in the present. Jim is tired of carrying his history with him:

"I guess," Jim drawls, completely ignoring the escape route, "one day I'd like her to look at me and really see who I am." He turns to Spock, knowing that what he's said doesn't make sense, but still wanting understanding. "Like we're both really here, in this moment, in the present."

And Spock is just TIRED:

From contact with his other self, he fears the feeling will never desert him. His other mind, so ancient in comparison, is honed and sharpened to a thing of immense power. Yet, beneath it all, lies a bone-weary exhaustion that made Spock recoil. To his other self's thinking, the sacrifice, the ongoing effort is worth the price of such solitude. If that is his future, he fears lacking the strength to shoulder the burden. He does not want that life, that realization and that loss. He wants, perhaps, the tiniest portion of happiness; a glimpse of what his father had shared with his mother, not the blazing intensity of love and separation.


That hints at the meld he shared with Prime, where he has seen a glimpse of what could be with Jim, but he's so tired that he (thinks he) wants comfort instead of intense passion. OH SPOCK. Given they're surrounded by so much loss it's natural that he'd shy away from more of the same, but he can't deny what's inevitable.

*flails*

His other self has worked hard to hide those memories, but something so profound naturally rebels against concealment. James Kirk had slipped into view, different and older, flamboyant and irrepressible; not that man he knows, but recognizable. Spock does not believe in destiny, not within the definition of this universe and declines to believe its existence in any other. He is not the man who goes by their father's name. They are not the same. That is a truth that both Spocks can acknowledge.


DAMMIT SPOCK! It's there for the taking, but Spock is just afraid of this as Jim is. Dammit! He knows the appeal, which is why he avoided the cocoa, but of course Jim can compromise his control in so many other ways.

* * *

Pike is fantastic, all the more so as you've revealed the history that he has with both Jim and Spock. He totally knew what he was doing when he put them together, being able to see the potential of such a combination. How satisfying (and frustrating) it must be to see two dynamic individuals gel in such a way.

Spock glances between the two humans, clearly at a loss. Both Pike and Jim launch into an explanation at the same time, then halt, stare at each other and share a smile. The Admiral gestures for Jim to continue, a strange warmth in his eyes.


Pike can see how Jim is already looking out for Spock, translating, buffering and augmenting where he can. Jim has the raw talent and intelligence, Spock has the logic and strategy, which is why Pike wants to send them in to the Council.

So after Spock has witnessed the intimacy with Jim's past, now Jim has to watch the same, albeit it on a different scale:

Spock reaches out with one hand, rests fingertips on the transparent table top. He doesn't touch Pike, but it is still a question, an entreaty. Jim feels awkward witnessing it, is forced to swallow a sharp surge of jealousy when Pike's face softens a little and he nods.


Jim has gotten used to being there for Spock, and so the realisation that there are others Spock has trusted is something he struggles with. His interest and attraction is gaining more ground here, and his gradual awareness of it in this chapter is just fabulous.

At last we have the conversation where Spock reveals the identity of Prime, which Jim totally moves into a flirtatious conversation, and I love you for it:

"Holy shit, you taught me Vulcan! ... No wonder you liked my accent."

And then ... flirting with math!

"Taking de Polignac's Conjecture, does that make you guys twin primes?" Jim can't resist, knowing that Spock will get the reference instantly, and know what he means to imply; that Spock is no less important, mathematically or otherwise.

Spock gives him the look that Jim privately refers to as the 'well done human, you have exceeded expectations' look.

Jim nods, kind of glad when Spock continues his narrative, because he has the sneaking suspicion he just flirted. Using mathematics. And that it worked. With a mental shake, he falls back into step and listens to Spock's succinct explanation.

*more flailing*

Until now Jim's attraction to Spock has been instinctive and reactive. It may have started out with Spock earning Jim's respect, now he has his trust, now it has become something so much more. Those feelings have all the more power now that Jim can recognise them for what they are:

In his head, he leans forward and tests a theory, reclaims a memory, but in reality he just grips Spock's shoulder and squeezes.

A Vulcan and his superior officer? Crazy, but he wants Spock. It's pretty damn clear. Perhaps the only thing that saved him from getting transferred before was the fact that he hadn't come to that realization when they kissed. It would have read to Spock like simple insanity; an impulsive, irrational human gesture. Now that Jim knows better, yeah, different story.


With someone like Jim it was always going to have to be more than simple attraction. He's gone on enough benders to test that theory, but now he's found someone that gives him a sense of purpose and a sense of place for the first time in his life ... and it's his superior officer.

"Fuck my life," Jim groans. "Seriously, of all the fucking people on the ship, it has to be him."

But of course, it does have to be Spock, that's precisely the point.


My thoughts exactly.

I know I'm going to sound like a scratched record here when I discuss the beautiful way you contrast Jim and Spock, but dammit, your writing deserves all the accolades it can get.

Jim looks wrecked and reeks like a brewery, so naturally he's going to run straight into precision-perfect Spock. Again it shows that Jim is a kinetic thinker who finds release in movement and near self-destruction, and Spock finds relief in control (hence the freak of nature hair).

The conversation with Sulu is wonderful, with so much not needing to be said. Jim's still tied to 'Fleet and wanting to know what's going on from someone who's actually there, and Sulu is trying to protect Jim from worrying but not divulging the name of the ship. They both know what they're doing, and don't have to explain why. Now that's friendship. It's a different friendship to McCoy, who of course would immediately call bullshit, but that's the difference between the old and the new.

The scene with Hannity was brilliant and gross all at the same time, but just the right thing to anchor Jim into what he needs. He sees a problem and is able to charge in right away and fix it. That moment of usefulness pulls him back into where he is and why.

Ohhh, now in the wake of the very latest chapter, this exchange seems to be quite telling. Jim's offered a trip home and doesn't take it, whereas countless others would jump at the chance. Just what the hell was it in his past that has him rejecting his family so comprehensively? His lack of trust doesn't just stem from his Starfleet experiences after all.

I also sense a major plot clue here:

"You know the only thing stopping Nero from blowing EPAS out of the sky is the fact that we keep our complement down. We've got nothing he wants, not tech, not weapons, not casualties or hostages."

Perhaps that's how they're going to be able to sneak up on Nero. By having presented themselves as non-threatening for so long, that would place them in an excellent position to be able to spring some sort of attack plan.

Next of course, Spock offering to be Jim's confidant is .. *PUDDLE OF GOO*

"I do not wish to belabor an issue you find discomfiting," he says, never taking his eyes from the density scanner he's using to assess the aluminium's integrity. "However, should you wish to discuss the cause of your dissatisfaction with the Admiral, I assure you that I will not have any difficulty maintaining confidentiality on your behalf."

Jim looks up.

Spock continues speaking conversationally. "Admiral Pike and I served together for many years. I was his Point One. I do not wish you to believe that this history, the understanding between he and I has any bearing on our own working relationship." Spock pauses, turns to face Jim more fully. "You are my Point One, a circumstance I do not take lightly. If you choose to unburden yourself of this concern, it will be held in confidence."

Jim has to look down at his workspace again, his face burning, his throat tight. He can remember when Pike first came to visit them in Iowa with tales of a rookie Vulcan recruit who was going to be just brilliant, one in a million, one of a kind. Pike doesn't enthuse like that about just anyone, and with the few casual anecdotes that followed, Jim had assumed a deep bond of friendship between the two men. It had never even occurred to him that he could have that, too, or that Spock might place him above such history. He's grateful and it scares him.


There's been a kiss, there's been almost disciplinary action, there's been a broken nose ... and yet there's this wonderful moment. Pike's someone Jim holds in high regard, and now he's joining the dots between previous conversations and Spock, realising that somehow Jim's factored in between two highly respected individuals. That's got to be a bit of food for thought for our boy.

As a segue way, I LOVED the fight scene between Jim, Spock and the Romulans. The seeds for their partnership have been well and truly sewn if they're able to talk in code now, with oblique references to the Art of War before shooting their way out of a window, watching the baddies get snap frozen.

Like I said earlier, McCoy is the one to call bullshit when it's needed, and he can see (and has apparently been told) that Jim has fallen for Spock. Jim goes from avoiding that particular confessional with McCoy to seek out Spock to discuss Ashe. Spock knows why she's left but can't and won't articulate it. In any case, it's a conversation that doesn't need to happen because now she's gone. Jim however, has missed out on the opportunity to say goodbye, although that's probably a good thing given that I daresay Ashe could see the writing on the wall.

In the wake of our conversation this evening, this line really resonates with me:

"You can be a thing, but it doesn't have any power over you until you realise that's who you'll always be when other people look at you."

"Defining oneself through others is both unwise and self-destructive," Spock tells him quietly. "I believe Lieutenant Ho's decision to resign her commission reflects a thorough comprehension of this principle. You would benefit from her example." He pauses, dark eyes measuring. "As would I."

BEAUTIFUL.

The quality of your writing has this whole story playing like a movie in my head, in my own little LNSB Imaginarium. This scene made for a fantastic 'reveal':

In fact, he feels like crap, but he pulls out his tricorder and starts taking readings. He's so focused on how angry he is, how guilty, that it takes a few seconds for the readings to register.
When they do, he turns to find Spock already looking at his own device.
They both raise their heads to take in the scene. There are maybe fifty EPAS crew working on stabilizing the wounded for transport. They are a sea of reflective piped suits. Reflective piped radiation suits.

Again I have to express my deep and abiding love for McCoy:

"You're not strictly allergic."
"I'm not strictly your friend anymore, either."


*fangirl awed stare*

I don't know how you do it, but oh how I wish I could do this sort of writing. Here you've got your two characters in isolation, they're battling major radiation sickness, and yet the whole damn thing just SINGS to me. Seriously. Let's see:

* There's Spock with his roughly towelled hair, looking younger than usual without his uniform.

* There's fantastic visuals like this:

Jim picks his up and winces at the bland looking slurry. "What is it?"

"Shut up and drink it!" McCoy shoots a slightly abashed look in Spock's direction. "Sir," he adds for good measure.
Without further ado, Spock downs his, and never one to be left out of a drinking game, Jim follows suit. Almost instantly, he knows it was a bad idea. They turn to look at each other and Spock's eyes widen.
"Behind you," McCoy tells them helpfully.

* And then there's the inevitable confessional moment because they're both in isolation and Jim's trying to keep Spock's mind off how awful he feels:

"And you, Jim?"
Kirk feels something lodge in his throat. For a moment, he thinks he's going to be sick again, but it passes. "Yeah, and me."
Spock lies unnaturally still, somehow managing to suppress his tremors. "I was ..."
"Oblivious," Jim supplies for him. "Don't sweat it, we're just overly emotional humans, remember? I know you're not aware of it, probably don't even like it, but it does us a lot of good to have someone to look up to, something to aspire to."
"This is a surprisingly complex revelation," Spock admits, sounding the slightest bit unsure, "and a significant responsibility."
"It doesn't change anything," Jim argues. "You're still the same you, still doing the same job." He leans into the divider a little more, trying to catch a glimpse of Spock's profile, trying to judge the impact of what he's saying. "Is it really so bad to find out what you mean to people around here?"

... I wonder what Jim would think if/when he realises that there are people on board that feel the same way about HIM.

And there are even more discoveries ahead ...

I LOVE the visual of a pissy Vulcan captain, which I find wonderfully ironic. Spock has often been judged and found lacking by his peers because of his hybrid status, and the fact that he chooses to associate with humans, and yet he seems to be more in control than any of them. Of course, Spock knows (and suspects) what his people are capable of and so trusts Jim to find out. It also seems that Jim is taking more pride in this appointment than perhaps he realises:

* * *

Jim knows he's the highest ranking Point on the ship next to Spock, but his instincts tell him it's actually knowledge of Vulcan language that's earned him the assignment. Spock chose a private moment in the turbolift to imply he should listen, and listen very carefully. Jim manages to catch the Commander's eye moments before Scotty calls ready. He gives a slight nod. Whatever is going on over there, Jim intends to find out what it is.

* * *

Spock has already won Jim's respect (and more), and to have him confide him in give him the mission suggests increasing trust. For all that Jim has trust issues with others, he will walk through fire for issues and people that he believes in, Spock being a classic case in point. Jim doesn't know what's going on over at that ship, but he's on a misson from someone he respects and won't come back until he's got something to report.

And then you go ahead and dish up the something. Mysterious refugees/survivors, including Vulcans and Klingons, another ship called the Enterprise and people that seem to know exactly who Jim is.

* * *

Several people in the room exchange glances. It's not that which makes Jim pause, it's the strange urgency, the almost disbelieving energy in their faces when they turn back to look at him.
"You are James Tiberius Kirk?" one of them calls, pushing to his feet.

* * *

O-kay. Right. Um, so I'm postulating that there's more wormhole activity going on here, because what you've described could be members of ST:TNG Enterprise crew, and the fact that Jim's name is greeted in such a way certainly suggests infamy. Has Spock Prime been up to far more than he's letting on? It's pointless me asking questions at this point because you'll just give me an enigmatic look and twirl an invisible moustache, but DAMN. Hang on, and the entire ship is tagged with the anomaly energy readings. That either means .. uh ... well I don't know, OR the wormhole bit is right. If the ship has gone through something then it would be coated with that energy signature. Or something.

* * *

Spock glances from the energy readings to the viewport encompassing the Tat'sar and back again. "It is imperative that we find grounds for further investigation."

"Well, don't tell me, man! Tell Jim!" McCoy blusters, pointing at the comm switch.

* * *

Ahhh McCoy, you speak for all of us.

ished the first read-through. This is a very political chapter, and absolutely heaving with subtleties - I love it!

Here we can see the Jim/Spock combination starting to work like a well-oiled machine. Jim provides the emotional nuances to get things going, and then Spock's logical approach supplies the authenticity to support the lie.


Spock's eyes almost seek Jim's, but he remains in control of himself and clasps his hands before him in a Robii apology. "No," he says, with all the weight of his natural seriousness to back him up.


Just where the hell you dreamed up a 3-day party to celebrate twine I don't know, but my oh my how I love the way your mind works.

The next scene once they're back on the ship wins major loveage from me:

He's filled with the adrenaline rush of hope. Only he, Spock and Taylor know the truth of the situation, and it fills him with nervous energy. It's too early in the day, but he longs to go a few rounds with security in the gym. He needs to do something, and it needs to totally distract him, because it's times like these he feels like doing something really self destructive just to take the edge off. He rolls his neck and tries to shake it out.


Jim is naturally demonstrative, so it's hardly surprising that he has to burn off so much kinetic energy. I'm also not missing that he's touching Spock more often now, be it intentional or not. Clapping his hand on his shoulder, grabbing his arm here and there. It's all adding up. Jim is naturally feeling closer to Spock so that's just how he deals. The fact that Spock accepts the contact says so much too.

And then there's McCoy. Oh my god how I love your McCoy:

Shaken from his own thoughts, Jim looks up, sees the intensity on his friend's face and realizes that McCoy never gives up, never even glances at the odds. It's what makes him such a brilliant doctor.
"Never change," he says sternly, gripping the older man by the shoulder, and probably harder than he means to. "Don't you dare change."


McCoy doesn't miss a trick, and has absolutely no filter on his actions which means he is absolutely authentic with everyone. Given Jim's level of disillusionment with Starfleet it would particularly heartening to have an emotional barometer like Bones in his vicinity. If Bones is arcing up at something that Jim is concocting, it's a good indication that he's on the right track.

Just after Bones has confirmed this, Spock appears for another one of their quick little chats. Again, Jim reaches out to calm/center Spock. I wonder when Spock is going to realise how reassuring he's finding this physical contact?

"Relax," Jim soothes, catching the very edge of Spock's sleeve between two knuckles and giving it a tug. "This is going to work. You'll see."

Ohhh! And this is where I sat up straighter in my seat, don't think I missed THIS little gem:

Beside him, Spock makes a noise that is almost a sigh.
Jim turns to face the door, shoulder to shoulder but positioned so that nobody can read his lips. "Which of us gets to tell the Captain we've caused a mutiny?"


I'm sure that's a little moment I remember from the end of the film, but I could be wrong. Getting back to the first little bit though, there's Spock revealing himself with a sigh, and Jim immediately reacts to it by positioning himself shoulder-to-shoulder and creating the illusion of privacy for a quick conference.


The crew is pissed, they get hauled over the coals by their inefficient Captain, the walls aren't soundproof after all, but Jim's still feeling optimistic. Excellent use of humour by the way. Even in the midst of their political machinations, Jim can add brevity to the situation:

"This is not a time for levity."
Jim turns to look at him, curiosity genuinely piqued. "When is your preferred time for levity?"


They've got their plan, less time then they thought to pull it off, and a lot of favours to call in to get it done. Jim's got hot women to call on, but he has some explaining to do first. Ha! Uhura is fabulous, and calls Jim out in a way that the rest of the crew would too if they were to find out what was going on. Ultimately she supports the lie, but objects to the subterfuge on moral grounds. Again, it's Jim that cops the brunt of it all because even though he and Spock are both in on it, Jim is the 'emotional face' of it all. Far better to rail at someone who you can relate to on an emotional level, than go up against a Vulcan, right?

The exchange between Spock and Senekot is difficult and revealing on so many levels.

Silence sits between them, but it is not the comfortable variety or even the polite variety. Spock has not known its like since his last moments on Vulcan-that-was, facing down his parents and his peers to make a decision that would earn their disapproval and irrevocably shape the rest of his life. Strangely, that thought fills him with peace. No future choice could even begin to haunt him so profoundly. The realization is liberating.


For a logical race the Vulcans are certainly good at discriminating, and Spock has to deal with the same prejudice that he has faced throughout his life from his own people.

This time is different though, and Spock is dealing with implementing a plan that is far bigger than the requests of Senekot. The other Vulcan has introduced a new factor into the equation by his requests and (perhaps false) political claims which are enough to get Spock wondering about what's going on.

There was one particular section in this chapter that really sang to me:

Spock stands, adjusts his cuffs and joins the flow of traffic in the corridor.

He acknowledges each and every salute with a nod of his head, thanks those who stand aside or offer up their places in the turbolift so that he might not be forced to endure physical contact. He knows their names, their ranks, their specialities. In a few rare instances he mentions something of personal note in passing and is gratified to observe the positive effect this has on morale. Their faces are largely familiar, their response to him a predictable blend of respect and what seems to be genuine appreciation. It is important to him because it illustrates how far he has come from the deeply disapproving Vulcan recruit he had been under Pike. He doubts that his associations have made him more human, although he acknowledges that it may seem so to other Vulcans. He justifies the nuances of body language, the slight tonal inflections in his voice, by the impact they have had on Prime Division over time.
Empathy is a fundamental expression of sentience. So said Surak himself.


That is just gorgeous. Spock's interactions with his crew could be explained as emotional weakness (I'm pretty sure that's how Senekot would look at it). Spock could explain it as a level of involvement to boost morale and thus increase productivity. He's justifying it as correlating some of Surak's sayings, but what it really shows is that he's a good man.


*FLAILS AT THIS BIT*

"Spock!" Kirk is practically beaming with excitement. "I've been looking for you! I just got a comm from Gaila. It seems the cover story I gave them is working, and ..."

He is cut short abruptly as Spock grips him by the arm and displays the data chip between finger and thumb. "There are approximately twenty three people of diverse racial origins aboard the Tat'sar," he reveals urgently. "Some of them are in need of medical attention."


They're collaborating, and they're so much in sync now that they're seeking each other out, grabbing a each other to emphasise a point, AND then there's the honking big clue you've put here about the other passengers that Senekot is trying to conceal.

Not surprising that the Vulcans are becoming xenophobic after losing their planet, but to conceal vital evidence like this hints that they're perhaps working on an act of retaliation. Of course, they can probably recognise the ineptitude of Starfleet in the same way that Jim and Spock can, but they don't have Jim's intuitive genius to help them out. What's Spock going to discover next?

ohhhhhh!

I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I love the way Jim is able to read Spock so well:

After a beat, Spock shifts slightly beside him. "Are you planning to finish that sentence?"
"You all right with this?"
Spock's eyebrow rises slowly. "To what are you referring?"
"You seem a little ..." Jim searches for the right word, then gives up and goes for the direct approach, "freaked out?"
The other eyebrow joins the first. "I assure you, I am no such thing."Jim gives him a confused look. "I did."
Spock blinks once, a very deliberate gesture. "You are a most frustrating human."

Of course, others may not take the time to 'read' him as such because they're buying into the whole 'Vulcan suppression' thing, which is entirely possible. Jim's natural curiosity coupled with his attraction to Spock has him paying more attention, plus he's naturally empathic and they're both damaged souls in close orbit. Spock's admission of frustration also reveals that he's equally curious about Jim. Hurrah!

*sigh*

There I was feeling somehow proud of myself that I'd managed to go a whole five paragraphs without comment, but once I get started it's on for young and old.

Spock's simple statement 'I am Vulcan' conveys volumes, and yet there he is working with humans and looking 'mussed' for want of a better description. The Vulcans like things slow and steady (well, with the exception of their technology), and there he is with a simple uniform and a haircut that shrieks of recent activity. Jim and the rest of the crew have a full appreciation of what Spock can do, the visitors don't, and it shows. Spock has given his reply, but Senekot's silence on the matter says much to the contrary:

Spock has just failed an inspection of some kind, he's certain of it. While Senekot enters into a brief exchange with two other science officers, Jim can feel Spock's eyes on him, no doubt cataloguing his very human reaction. Jim forces himself to breath deeply, and pretty much has the flush under control by the time Senekot turns back to them.

At least Spock is able to admit - albeit in a roundabout kind of way - that Vulcans aren't immune to prejudice. Score a small victory for Jim there.

I love the way that Jim is flirting with the edges of Spock's personal space by the way; seeing how close he can stand, rest his hands etc. Such little gestures, and if Spock is noticing he's not making any objections.

The interlude with Ashe was handled very gently, and the admission they make to each other is lovely. It says so much about the people that work in the health profession:

"I mean, in this job we see death and destruction on a daily basis, but it doesn't really touch us. Maybe it's something we do, psychologically, to remain functional, I don't know, but it insulates us from the reality of the situation, from the risks we take. Truth is," he licks his lips, "I think you do this job long enough you're going to get messed up, one way or another."

Thing is, what happens when you're already messed up before you join the service? Hmmm.

Moving on, there's more slight contact between Jim and Spock. I wonder if Spock read anything when he handed over the coffee? You're not telling, and at this stage in the story you don't need to, but now that I'm working my way through it I can't help but wonder. It's so delicious to come across these little gems that you've seeded throughout the chapters.

Now that they're working side by side, they're able to seek out each other's company either consciously or unconsciously. Bullshitting lessons is the best excuse for spending more time together of course, and it's great to see them be able to start brainstorming together. There is of course, only so long you can lie before the truth starts to come out. How wonderful that they start to reveal some intensely personal kernals of truth in between their other attempts and ... and ... HOLY SNAPPING DUCKSHIT BATMAN.


I just ... *reads again and again to be sure*

How the hell did I miss this? It's a reference to Prime, it just HAS to be:

"You have the accent of a diplomat. You speak pure Standard Vulcan with none of the regional inflections common to humans taught by other humans." Spock tilts his head. "You received instruction from a Vulcan."
"I did," Jim nods, enjoying this little guessing game. "What about you? Get all your Standard from your mother?"
"No," Spock answers almost distractedly. "Like all other children of diplomats, I was required to take advanced language instruction in several common Federation languages. Jim, who taught you Vulcan?"
"A Vulcan who was t'kaul'ama," he reveals. "Never did figure out what he did to get himself kicked out of the club, cos he had to be one of the most Vulcan Vulcans I've ever met." Jim warms to the story and the memory. He doesn't usually like discussing this particular stage in his life, but focusing on the language he learned at the time means he can avoid thinking about the rest of it. "Then again, I was just a kid, but it always sort of seemed like I knew what he was feeling."
Jim had almost added, 'like with you,' but stopped himself just in time.

*FLAILS*

And just like that, I can see this comment becoming a two parter. You know, if it wasn't for me quoting passages of your own writing back at you all the time, this would be a speedier process.

So now I'm assuming that Jim's Sarek and Spock's father are not one and the same. Speculating wildly here now but I'm guessing once Prime discovered the timeline differences he sought out Jim to do what he could to help the youngster out.

*awe*

Damn woman, you're GOOD.

Capping off the chapter, we've had a lot of personal contact initiated by Jim, a brief contact from Spock, and now they're kicking back relaxing, exchanging heartfelt truths and talking in Vulcan.

Oh. Mah. God.

You have NO idea what a heightened reading experience this is going back to earlier chapters in the wake of your latest offerings. Your story arc planning is phenomenal. I can't even write a bloody shopping list without getting confused, and yet here you are laying breadcrumbs that just ...

*FLAILS*

I love the way Chekov's accent only tends to come out when he's tired or on uncertain ground. It makes him seem even younger when it does, which was fitting given the conversation about 'mom and dad' fighting. For all that Jim regards Chekov as a boy genius, their conversation was enough of a wake-up call for him to follow it up with Bones about mediation.

The idea of Jim filing two complaints because McCoy won't go to the dance is just hilarious. Jim knows exactly how to press McCoy's buttons, the the fact that he's doing it purely for his own entertainment speaks of how comfortable he's getting. I love it! Any humour in the situation is promptly nullified by the bombshell that McCoy drops into the conversation:

"T'Loren's not hard on you because you're Jim Kirk." McCoy is watching him intently. "She's not hard on you because you're new, or inexperienced or human or any combination of the above," he continues, confidence oozing from every pore. "If that were the case, she'd be just as hard on Chekov. Jim, she's hard on you because you were at Vulcan."

Just as well McCoy knows Jim well enough to have a chair on standby. The good doctor has an impressive gaze that sees all, and to underscore that he absolutely NAILS it here:

The doctor raises his glass to his lips and tilts it, letting the amber liquid brush his lips but never taking his eyes from Kirk's face. "You do my job, you see what I see, and you begin to realize that we're surrounded by the walking wounded. We're none of us quite whole, Jim. Some of us just hide it better than others." He sets the glass down on the desk and stares at it. "I'm a doctor," he shrugs, seeming confident that says it all. "It's who I am."

Holy shit.

It's also particularly telling that where the professional/personal lines get blurred, both Jim and Spock both have a voice of reason, or at least clarity that they can turn to. Jim has McCoy, and Spock has Pike. Also intriguing is the involuntary association Spock has with Pike that hints more at the sense of connection with Jim:

Back when Spock was Pike's One, it was moments like these when the older man would reach out physically with a tap or a brush on his shoulder, arm or the back of his hand; a cautious, platonic, fleeting human gesture of reassurance. To his surprise, Spock instantly recalls Lieutenant Kirk, a hand on his shoulder in the shuttle bay, human cool through the fabric. It is a distinctly unsettling involuntary association.


The touch of reassurance may be an involuntary gesture, but it's coming from two individuals with supreme leadership ability that still like to make contact on an individual level. It's a connection that Spock is only just becoming aware of, which makes it fascinating from the reader's perspective. Their awareness will eventually translate to hyper-awareness of course, but it's the built up that's absolutely delicious.

Of course, then Pike goes on to outline the situation that's hard-hitting. Were I to quote my favourite passages from the conversation I'd end up copying the entire passage. Suffice to say, these two lines are just ... *AWE*

Pike gives him a lopsided smile. "Come on, Spock, you of all people should know what frustrated genius feels like."

All seeing Pike knows exactly what's hard-wiring Spock and Kirk, and now he has the task of bringing them together.

This next bit REALLY got me: "Spock, I gave you Kirk for safekeeping, and now you've gone and broken him."

Oh hell, and one more for good measure because I can't help myself:

"That's why I had no doubt in approving you as my replacement, and that's why I sent you Jim Kirk when I had half of the Federation damning me for accepting him into EPAS and the majority of EPAS clamoring to get their hands on him. Kirk needs more than a set of orders and someone competent to issue them, far more than that to reach his true potential, and the more I think about what the two of you could achieve together, the more I believe it's absolutely essential that you make this work."


Sure Jim is absolute gold to Starfleet, for with an individual like him it's not just a matter of throwing a genius at a solution and hoping it all works. There's the matter of nurturing the talent for the long-term good. Hoo boy.

The showdown with T'Loren was something that I've read four times now, and I'm trying to think of something coherent to say besides 'wow' and *flail*. It's such a powerful scene and I can't quite work out how to do it justice. This showdown between the two Vulcans is the best example of the emotional fallout of Nero's actions. In the Star Trek ethos, Vulcans suppress their emotions, and I like to think that the scope of this emotion goes beyond human limits which is why they had to rein things back to stop themselves from going extinct. That said, for all that they are species with incredible control they've never had to experience a loss on such an epic scale, nor the loss of so many bondmates.

Just like everyone else on the ship, T'Loren is a damaged individual, although in her case she was in a direct position to put people at risk. She'd pushed Jim to near-breaking point, and it was his resignation that was enough to galvanise things into action.

Just in the midst of that trauma Spock comes to the rescue, although it's a pyrrhic victory at best. Jim has been saved, but Spock has had to face down his own loss and the cost to his people, in front of an audience all the while.

Chekov's accent came back too - don't think I didn't catch that.

Jim has managed to salvage the situation somewhat, and now they can retreat to their respective corners - Jim to sickbay, and Spock into his quarters. I'm longing for the time (and know it's coming) that they will be able to take comfort in each other.

The conversation between Jim and Pike was given lovely treatment, especially this bit:

Kirk wants to say it's because he thought Pike might care, but that's a little too revealing. It hearkens back to the rare sound of his mother laughing at one of Christopher's jokes, or the warm feel of a strong hand on his shoulder when Pike occupied the spare room at the farm. He'd thought it might matter to Pike, whether or not he was okay. Apparently not. He needs to stop doing this to himself.


There was so much left unsaid, or not even needing to be said that just speaks volumes of their relationship. Jim clearly regards him as a mentor and father figure, but having endured so much loss he doesn't want to verbalise it. Likewise his lack of communication with Sulu. Jim needs to be around people, but has chosen to isolate himself because of his traumatic experiences. Too bad it doesn't make him feel any better.

I thoroughly enjoyed watching Jim settle in and find his place in the team, to the point where he's taking a proprietary interest when he can't go with his shift. To have this pointed out Scotty just makes it even better, given Scotty's attachment to things mechanical:

"You've got that look about you," Scott says wisely, "like that ship is your girlfriend and somebody else is buying her a drink. And then there's the small matter of your uniform."

I particularly like the way Jim ad Scott have got each other's measure almost immediately. Jim teasing him about Spock knowing about the not-so-secret still, and then bluffing at cards. For all that Jim tries to isolate his heart, having a social aspect at work is absolutely crucial to wellbeing, so he's finding a kind of balance there.

*long pause and a lot of doubling back to re-read and sigh*

I'd forgotten how much this chapter made my heart ache. The snippets of Jim's sessions with McCoy, the mention of the Arc (did he see Amanda? I wonder) and then the sparseness of the relationship between Winona and Jim. It's just heart-wrenching stuff topped off with empty but reassuring sex with Ashe. The fact Jim and Ashe are able to recognise each other as damaged individuals and still be able to take momentary comfort is particularly poignant.

Pretty much all the characters in this story are flawed, which makes it all the more fascinating to find out what drives them all towards their common goal. McCoy's insight into Jim's attitude towards command is quite telling. The doctor sees everything and chooses his moments when he makes that known. I like it!

Major loveage as always. Reading this story with its consistent high quality (no pressure!) always leaves me feeling ... nourished. That's about the best word I can come up with. Replete? Yeah that's a good one too. Some of the chapters may put me through an emotional wringer, but I always come out the other side feeling so vastly satisfied that I've been able to sink into such a compelling world for a little while.

That's what brings me back and keeps me reading and re-reading. That's what's making me leave these honking big comments, because your efforts totally deserve to be recognised and rewarded.

And um, I guess I'll get off my soapbox now, so that I can carry it across to the next chapter. See you soon ...

So, bed rest and light duties for Jim, huh? Too bad McCoy didn't tell the universe that. He's barely finished talking to Spock before they've both literally had to hit the deck running.

Again it's an enormous testament to the respect the crew has for Spock that he's able to issue a few orders and everyone takes it on point and responds so well. There's Vulcan efficiency, and then there's efficiency with respect which of course makes all the difference. These are well trained professionals who trust his judgement enough to respond accordingly. The respect and clear (dare I say logical) command is obviously something that Jim has been missing, as it fairly shines through in Jim's reaction to it all:

A cascade of acknowledgements follows in a myriad of voices, each betraying different levels of stress, but all in control. Perhaps there is something in Spock's own manner that demands it, perhaps they are just really well trained. Jim's never felt like so much of a fraud in his life. Spock's eyes are dark and unreadable behind his visor, but the tilt of his head suggests a question. Jim shakes his head, in denial of, or in response to his own inadequacies. Not even he can tell.

This is no time to back out, turn tail and run away. There's nowhere for him to go out here, not with his commanding officer a shuttle's width away, suited up and ready to go, so he makes himself a promise. This one mission. Just this one, then he'll resign. There's go to be something he can do, someway he can make a difference, but if it's not Starfleet and it's not EPAS, he's fresh out of ideas. But seriously, fuck this. This is insane. This is Vulcan all over again.

Holy hell.

So next we've got them flying into an emergency situation, they're running through corridors with their boots slipping in blood and then fuck me sideways there's Sulu. Even in the midst of all that, there's still flashes of humour which I just love:

"What made you switch?"

Jim thinks of that space-jump, of a fleet torn to shreds, of poor orders from on high, of lifeless floating bodies and planets imploding in an abortive scream.

"The dental, mostly."

Humour as a coping mechanism is a well established ritual we all use from time to time. Still, it seems that Jim can only bluff for so long. Getting back to safety he has a flashback of Vulcan and then exhibits either a panic attack or a flash of PTSD:

He staggers, falls to his knees, barely gets there in time and empties his stomach all over the polished deck. Everyone springs back, exclaims softly, part surprise, part disgust, and it only adds to Jim's misery. He's hot and cold at the same time. There's a ringing in his ears and his suit is suddenly too tight, choking him. Sweat breaks out on his face, between his shoulder blades, and he's absolutely certain he's going to pass out. He's tugging at the collar, fingers scrabbling at the seam in panicked desperation.

Wow.

Spock is still a mystery, but they're intrigued with each other and already working in sync. All good, and I love the ending:

Spock nods and rises nimbly to his feet. Jim makes a bit of a hash of it, but at least he gets vertical under his own power. The Commander precedes him out of the hangar. He's stopped every few turns to receive a report, sign a PADD or answer a question. He's unfailingly polite, always helpful and really quite patient when faced with the human propensity to babble in times of stress. It's not until he drops Jim off at sick bay and promptly banishes all the other hangers-on that Jim begins to suspect it may have simply been a ploy to give Jim a chance to keep up.

Bones tells him he's put a hairline fracture back through one of the recent breaks, and also that he's an idiot. Then he wants to know why the hell Jim is smiling.


Again, much love for Bones. You write him so well!