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Author's Chapter Notes:

This is a companion for my other fic Madness Most Discreet and while it is by no means nessecary to read that fic I do encourage it as I make a few subtle references to content in that fic which will not seem as funny if you do not read it.

Disclaimer: Star Trek and the boys belong to Gene Roddenberry, who I am not.  I am only borrowing them with the greatest respect, and promise to return them in (mostly) pristine condition.

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“There's no rhyme and there's no reason
I know the secret in the back of my skull
there's no logic, so please believe me
our love's confusing, but it never, it never gets dull

I ache for you, I ache for you.

And I'm tired, of so much wanting
and what if; don't even think it
but why not.”

Ben Lee - Ache For You

“The heart is not a logical organ.” -- Dr. Janet Wallace, "The Deadly Years"

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Spock is perfectly aware of just how illogical the situation he had found himself in, because surely it was not logical for a Vulcan to sit cross legged on the floor of his quarters, blood burning in the ancient thrall of his race, flesh between his legs hard and hot and full of yearning for his Captain.  His male, infuriating Captain; and to add insult to injury it wasn’t just any male, infuriating Captain (because he is sure that there is more than one in the Fleet) but James Tiberius Kirk.  But none the less this was the predicament that Spock found himself in, without even the comfort of being able to blame Kirk for his exceedingly unfortunate (and uncomfortable) state of affairs, because for once it wasn’t his overly emotional Captain who was at fault, but Spock himself (and the irony of such a quandary hadn’t escaped him).

Upon reflections made in the past week, Spock had determined that his current...problem with James T. Kirk had begun at the moment they had both met, however at that time it had most definitely been a subconscious matter as no one who was still in possession of their sanity (and he had included himself in that category) could have claimed that Spock had felt even the faintest hint of positive regard towards Kirk at their first meeting.  Despite that, Spock had acknowledged that Kirk was an attractive human from that first moment, as he had seen no shame in having an abstract appreciation for beauty.  Kirk possessed a healthy and muscular physique, pleasingly symmetrical facial features and a truly amazing eye colour, bluer even than the water in the oasis’s found scattered throughout the desert that had been Vulcan.  The sheer poetry of his thoughts on the young cadets attributes (poetic ability wasn’t especially high on the list of desired logical attributes; Vulcan poetry had been likened to stereo instructions, although to be fair it did really lose most of its beauty in translation) would had likely shocked him (or at least surprised, shock was an especially unVulcan emotion), but at that particular moment any revelations born of his observations of Kirk’s appeal had been buried beneath the sheer, uncompromising anger that he had found himself feeling towards the young and cocky cadet.  Kirk had not only shown disrespect for both Starfleet regulations and Spock himself by cheating on his test, but had then had the sheer gall to stand up and declare that it was Spock who was in the wrong in the creation of the test.

However, the majority of Spock’s anger at Kirk had not stemmed from Kirk’s actions (though they had made him angry enough), but rather at the fact that he’d been capable of making Spock feel to a degree he had not felt since childhood when three bullies had provoked him by attempting to sully his mother’s name.  His indiscretion in childhood had been logically attributed to his young age (even full blooded Vulcan children lost control occasionally) and his human blood and Spock had worked constantly since then to polish his control as to ensure that such an event would never happen again. So the fact that an insignificant cadet could simply look at him and cause his emotions to regress to such an undesirable state (undoing all his hard work) had prompted him to lash out in a similar (though regrettably less bloody) manner as he had before and he had used his words as he had once used his fists in an attempt to wound.  Needless to say, Spock had not given much conscious thought to his acknowledgement of Kirk’s beauty at that time (a serious oversight in Spock’s opinion as he could have perhaps saved himself both a great deal of time and stress).

His negative attitude towards Kirk had only grown stronger when they had been interrupted by the distress call from Vulcan and suddenly his planet and his precious mother had been gone and Kirk had been there once again, provoking him.  Kirk’s taunts had managed to break through the sheer numbness he had been feeling and his anger had awoken again (only this time with a vengeance) and Spock had decided that his childhood solution really had been much more successive than his adult one and as he’d re-implemented it he had taken a certain (illogical) satisfaction in the sounds that his fists had made as they had connected with Kirk’s flesh as the force of his rage had slowly escaped him like the air had from Kirk’s lungs.  It hadn’t been until later, when the Narada was no more and he had experienced the truly disconcerting sensation of literally confronting himself that he had realised how courageous his new captain had been to, on nothing more than the advice of a stranger and his belief that what he had been doing was right, risk his life against Spock’s superior Vulcan strength.  It had been understandably not something he had noticed at the time; then he’d had no room for thought beyond his grief and his rage, but as he’d stood with a version of himself that had trusted Kirk enough to lay the fate of the earth in his hands, he had felt a sense of true admiration towards the man he had only just recently hated.

That, however, had defiantly not meant that Spock had been entirely or immediately sold on the merits of James T. Kirk.  As far as he had been able to see Kirk had the potential to be an excellent Captain if (and only if) he could correct several of his personal...shortcomings.  Kirk might have been a brilliant young man, but he was also brash, impulsive and largely untested, his recent success in saving the world aside.  So while Spock had taken his elder self’s assurances of his and Kirk’s magnificent future together with a sizable grain of salt, he had honoured his wishes and returned to the Enterprise because to him it had ‘felt right’ to at least give Kirk the benefit of the doubt (and he’d been comforted by the knowledge that if he was wrong, he always had the neck pinch as a failsafe Plan B). 

Kirk, however, had exceeded even Spock’s expectations (a feat that few others could claim to had done; he had rather high expectations) with his dedication to becoming a Captain that the entire crew could be proud to serve under.  Within a few months of assuming command of the Enterprise Kirk had learned nearly all of Starfleet’s rules and regulations and though he had often bent them, Spock had observed that he only did so when a rule was rigid and following it would have led to casualties or chaos.  Kirk had also appeared to resolve his irrational need to hit things (Spock did so only when the situation logically called for it) and had ceased instigating alcohol driven fights.  In addition, he had also polished his exceedingly unorthodox (no one but a man of Kirk’s...experience would had thought to trade a whipped cream recipe to the Deltans in exchange for dilithium rights) diplomatic skills until even the most practiced of bureaucrats had been impressed at the results.

However the change that had likely been most impressive was that Kirk had even managed to reign in his highly over active libido; something that had lead to both a great deal of talk among the crew as well as causing Nyota to nearly stop breathing from shock driven hysterical laughter (and hadn’t that prompted a very interesting visit to Dr. McCoy where Spock had learned that Nyota was capable of blushing a truly amazing shade of red and that “dammit Jim” was apparently the doctor’s mantra in life).  Overall, Spock had decided that Kirk’s efforts in improving his behaviour had not only made him a better Captain, but had also been exceedingly fortunate and timely as he’d calculated that without some form of personal adjustment there had existed a 87.6% chance that Kirk would cause a diplomatic incident that would result in the destruction of the Enterprise (most likely at the hands of some over protective royal father, whose daughter had been swayed into compromising her virtue by the sheer charisma that was his Captain.)

However it had not been Kirk’s efforts in bettering himself that had finally earned Spock’s respect and admiration (although they had not hurt), but rather the amount of effort that his Captain had put into becoming his friend, because never in his life had someone endeavoured to do so with no ulterior motives.  That was not to say that he did not consider Nyota a friend; she actually had been his first friend, but he could also rationalize her efforts for doing so.  She had desired a sexual and emotional relationship with him and so her actions in offering a friendship had been logical and had allowed them to form a mutually beneficial arrangement.  In contrast, Kirk had seemingly undertaken an ordeal that many others had dismissed as impossible, for no other reason than that he seemed to genuinely enjoy Spock’s company (communication between a Captain and his First was necessary, friendship was not).  And that had fascinated Spock.

Kirk had begun his mission by inviting Spock to join him in a game of chess and Spock had let his curiosity (prompted by the fact that James T. Kirk apparently played chess) rule and had accepted, secure in his assumption that he would prevail over his captain (modesty aside, he was quite good at chess).  After he had lost the first game so completely he had been tempted to call his elder self and politely question (demand) if he had aided Kirk in another attempt at cheating, but after he had won the second game he had magnanimously decided to simply ‘let it slide’ and had acknowledged that Kirk was a player capable of matching even him.  He had rationalized that his heightened sense of enjoyment after the match had come from the fact that such individuals were in short supply and that playing against amateurs was not intellectually stimulating and so if he had accepted Kirk’s next invitation with a subtle sense of anticipation, he had not given it any extra thought. 

Kirk, however, had not ended him campaign there, accompanying Spock to meals and inviting him into his quarters to simply converse with him after tough missions (which Spock had treasured most of all, as he had been able to count on one hand those who had confined in Vulcan’s son in exile).  This pattern had continued for several months and it had been on the sixth day of the third month that Spock had finally noticed that the Captain had ceased his rather playful attempts to ‘pick Nyota up,’ which had greatly puzzled him as he could think of no logical reason for the Captain to suddenly lose an interest that had spanned for several years (he didn’t even consider the possibility that Jim had given up; James T. Kirk did not ‘give up.’)  After he had finally explored all the possible reasons he could think of and he had still not come to a conclusion he had given into his curiosity and had asked the Captain during one of their chess games.  Jim (as he had firmly insisted on being called in the privacy of either Spock’s or his own quarters) had looked up from the board and had said (with the tiniest hint of surprise colouring his voice) that “hitting on a friends girl wasn’t cool” and then after a small smile in Spock’s direction had promptly returned his attention to the board. 

After Kirk’s casual declaration Spock had been surprised to note that instead of feeling a sense of relief at the fact that he would no longer have to be subjected to Jim’s attempts to win Nyota he had instead been filled with the strangest warmth at the thought.  This new warmth had not only not disappeared within moments of its original appearance but it had even stayed present through Spock’s eventual loss of the chess game,  a fact that perhaps should have hinted that this would not be a normal friendship, but as Spock had possessed very little previous experience with the practice of making friends (and as he had already been informed that his relationship with Jim would be an extraordinary and defining one), he had logically assumed that the feeling was simply one that accompanied the start of a new friendship (it had been similar to what he had felt with Nyota, but different) and had decided to enjoy it.  If this was what his elder self had been referring to when he had advised him it would ‘feel right’ then he found he couldn’t fault the ambassador for wanting it.

And so for a while life had been acceptably normal (although Spock had learned that in regards to the Enterprise, ‘normal’ was a relative term; much like fine) but it had not stayed that way for long.  Spock had previously heard his human crew mates refer to this phenomenon as ‘Murphy’s Law’; the belief that anything that can go wrong will and although Spock had initially refused to support any “law” that was constructed on the imperfect science of coincidence, his time on the Enterprise so far had forced him to re-evaluate his option.  If the only thing they needed to escape from a Klingon war bird was warp 6, then that was the one thing that Mr. Scott and his genius could not give them (though Spock sometimes wondered about the nature of Mr. Scott’s intellect; he had yet to ascertain the function of a ‘dohicky’).  If the fate of a treaty on a notably violent planet depended solely on how the king was greeted, then it would be that moment that the universal translator malfunctioned (and that had been a truly inconvenient experience as Spock had then had to spend the next six hours convincing the natives not to execute his captain in what they had charmingly referred to as the ‘pit of death.’) Needless to say Spock with his own genius had managed to detect the unfortunate pattern that life upon the Enterprise seemed to follow and so it really shouldn’t had been a surprise that things had suddenly gone wrong but of course it had been, because logic seemed to fail a great deal while in the company of James T. Kirk.

It had actually begun as a rather unremarkable mission; himself, the Captain and an away team had beamed down to the surface of a relatively unexplored Class M planet to obtain some samples of the local flora.  The planet had been called Elysium II after the terran mythological Greek underworld; although upon reaching the surface Spock had immediately begun to doubt the sanity of the Starfleet Captain who had considered this planet an accurate representation of heaven.  He had thought the planet had more closely resembled the landscape of a garish Terran fable, complete with a sun so bright it had made even Spock’s Vulcan eyes hurt, and an aesthetically offending lavender sky.  Jim had taken one look at the planet and had deemed it “sickenly sweet” had Spock had whole heartily agreed, especially since the air seemed to taste like cotton candy (something that had made him seriously consider whether the consequence of not breathing-namely death-would have been worse than the alternative of having to stomach the taste).

However Spock had been pulled out of his contemplations by the sound of a projectile flying through the air and he had whipped around (and he was beginning to worry about the detrimental effects this planet was having on his sanity because he was 99.0% certain that there were unicorns in his peripheral vision) just in time to observe the planets natives as they had begun attacking from the rear.  It might have been a fear inspiring sight but instead it had been the metaphorical ‘cherry a topped the cake’ as they had looked a great deal like glittery Oompa Loompa’s; creatures that Spock had seen while watching an educational video designed to teach (scare) young Vulcan’s about the dangers of substance abuse (it had been exceedingly effective; Spock had most certainly not wanted to consume chocolate after watching it).  Despite the humorous edge to the situation the natives had seemed to be heavily (albeit primitively) armed, and Spock had immediately ducked for cover and had begun to return fire with his phaser, while simultaneously trying to ascertain the status of the party.

He had been attempting to make his way to Kirk, who had been distracted by his endeavours to protect three red shirted ensigns (a logical course of action as Spock had noted that 82.9% of the Enterprise’s causalities were made up of such individuals; a number that might have made him suspicious had he not been a rational being) when he had spotted the sparkly little native who had launched his spear with precision aim at the Captain’s heart.  He’d had only a moment to devise a course of action that would save Jim, and it had been in that moment that Spock had realised (quite unexpectedly) that he’d had no desire to exist in a universe that was devoid of the presence of James T. Kirk.  And so Spock had, backed by the odd weightlessness that had accompanied his newly discovered revelation, taken the only logical action he had been able to fathom at that time; he had stepped in front of Jim and had intercepted the spear with his own body.  As he had felt himself fall, spear imbedded in his chest, he had looked into the terribly blue eyes of his captain and had thought that there was no other sight that he would rather have had as his last.  Then the darkness of unconsciousness had consumed him and Spock had thought no more.

He had woken in sickbay an indeterminable amount of time later, something in itself that had provoked a fair measure from shock from him, as Spock had been relatively (he had not exactly had the time to calculate the exact percentage; he had just essentially died) sure he was never going to wake again.  He had remained awake and conscious only until the magnitude of his injuries had been made aware to him, at which time Spock had promptly traded his painful awareness for the nothingness of the Vulcan healing trance.  However when he had woken again (this time without feeling like there was a large sehlat resting on his chest) his cursory thoughts had not caused him to undergo any blinding realizations in regards to the action he had taken to save his Captain’s life.  Jim was the only true friend that Spock had ever had the privilege of making, and the camaraderie that their friendship had provided him with had become an integral part of his life, so the actions that he had taken in saving Jim had seemed logical and justified to Spock.  In addition, Jim was also his Captain, and as First Officer he had a duty to protect his Captain’s life.  And so, safely cradled in the perfection of his logic Spock had not given the matter any further thought. 

Although as Spock looked back now he wondered if he’d had more time to consider the situation he might had discovered the fault that had existed in his logic and come to another conclusion, but since it was the Enterprise; a ship where they were rarely given a moment to breathe much less think no one had been surprised when the alarm for the next mission had sounded while Spock had still been in sickbay.  Spock and the rest of the crew had then spent every waking moment (and several of the ones where they should have been sleeping) of the next two weeks attempting to deal with the aftermath of a particularly vicious war on Tellite which had left the planet’s atmosphere dangerously unstable.  The Enterprise, as the only Starfleet ship in the quadrant had been charged with ferrying the survivors to the nearest Federation planet, as well as with the task of attempting to help the grieving survivors who were both physically and emotionally wounded.  To add to their exhaustion they had then been immediately thrust back into action again only an hour after the last transport, and had then spent the next two weeks thwarting a Klingon plot while simultaneously attempting to de-tribble the Enterprise.  The former had not been an especially time consuming endeavour (Klingons were not known for being mental giants) but the later had been an experience so trying that Spock doubted there was a single member of the crew who did not seriously regret allowing the Tellite refugee children to feed Mr. Scott’s tribble...tribbles (Mr. Scott’s tribble had become approximately 1036 identical tribbles so no one was exactly sure which was the original; Mr. Scott was heartbroken) unsupervised.

Needless to say Spock had not had time during that month for much more than sleeping and working (much less epiphanies or life changing revelations) and so once they had set coordinates for the neutral zone and they had finally found a moment of peace, the first thing Spock had done was allowed himself to be dragged off the bridge by Nyota to a darkened corner of the ship (life was about priorities; thinking could come later).  He had calculated on the way there that the risk of discovery had been low enough to allow the action he was assuming was going to follow, although Spock had admitted that his calculations might had been slight biased (it had been nearly a month, and he was rather eager), so Spock had not been overly surprised when he had heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching.  He had been shocked into inactivity, however, when it had been Jim who had rounded the corner and upon spotting them, had quietly turned and retreated as not to disturb them.  Nyota (who had not noticed Jim’s completely out of character response) had ceased kissing his neck to enquire as to why he had stopped participating, but Spock had been unable to answer, because he could think of no way to explain to her (he couldn’t even explain to himself) that he had suddenly found himself feeling like he was cheating by being there with her.   He had thankfully retained enough of his wits not to mention his revelation to her, and had stammered out an explanation about stress before promptly fleeing (and there had been no other term for it) to his quarters.

Once he had finally reached the relative sanctity of his quarters he had immediately lit his incense and had attempted to meditate because there clearly existed some underlying issues he needed to resolve (he had just turned sex down with Nyota because he hadn’t wanted to hurt Jim Kirk!)  But once he finally achieved a light trance Spock found himself in further quandary as the problem he had was clearly a deeply emotional one, and Spock was not exactly experienced at dealing with matters of the heart.  In fact, being Vulcan he had spent the majority of his life attempting to ignore such matters even existed (and he felt that this was the most inconvenient time to be disproved of this notion).  He had one of the highest documented IQ’s in recorded history, but nothing in Surak’s teachings had prepared him for dealing with James T. Kirk.  Spock considered it a significant flaw in his education (although he often wondered if anything ever could have).  However, as a Vulcan he had spent an amazing amount of time attempting to solve math problems that others would have called impossible and though he doubted it was the preferred method of problem solving for these matters Spock reasoned that it would work just fine (and the irony of using a hybrid of math and emotional reasoning did not escape him; in fact the duality had a certain metaphorical appeal).

So, if he was to analysis this situation like any algebraic problem, then the first thing to do was to determine the variables.  The linear equation, y=mx+b would serve his purposes just fine he supposed.  It was simple and perfectly logical, with a decent amount of variables (not too many or too few) with y as the answer he so desperately needed.  So if he was going to begin at the beginning (a very good place to start) then he supposed M was his acknowledgement of Kirk’s aesthetic appeal, which in the interest of self honesty was more than just impersonal observation.  If then he multiplied that by X, which was that strange warm feeling that accompanied Jim’s presence then he supposed his preliminary calculations indicated that he was attracted to Jim.  That, Spock reasoned was unexpected but not drastic as Spock was certain that he could withstand an attraction to his captain and though it was serious it was clearly not the reason he had pulled away from Nyota.  In the next second he almost wished he did not possess such an efficient mind as his emotional brain flew ahead of his thoughts to the final part of the equation; B, his reaction to Jim on Elysium and in the hallways moments ago and he simply had to stop and hold his breath because if y=mx+b, then Y was he was in love with James T. Kirk and that was just...hideously inconvenient. 

However once his initial panic (and this was most definitely a logical occasion for it; he was in love with James T. Kirk?!) had finally dissipated he had been filled with a strange sense of peace, as his awareness of his feelings gave him the ability to deal with them, logically.  Despite his new found revelation Spock was under not under the misconception that Kirk reciprocated his regard; he knew enough about human interaction to not confuse the friendship Jim felt towards him as romantic in nature.  Yet despite the fact that these new feelings (or were they old feelings? He was going to have a long and serious talk with his older self to discern if ‘do what feels right’ was some kind of code) had the potential to be seriously damaging Spock had not been overly worried that he would slip up and his relationship with the Captain would be affected (Vulcan’s were taught how to control and suppress their emotions before they could even walk).  And although he had been comforted by that fact, he had still felt a certain sense of apprehension regarding the situation he had found himself in. 

After he had spent some more time meditating, Spock had discerned that said apprehension had stemmed from the fact that he had then found himself charged with the task of alerting Nyota that he wished to return the nature of their relationship back to its previously platonic state and while her strong will had been one of the factors that had originally attracted him to her he also had held a particularly male fear of her impressive temper (he had even briefly considered wearing protective undergarments when he confronted her).  Despite his perfectly logically (at least when using man-logic) fear Spock’s moral code had not allowed him to carry on an intimate relationship with Nyota after he had discovered romantic feelings for another and so one evening, approximately four days and six hours after his revelation, he had sat with Nyota and had attempted to explain his changing situation to her.  His explanation had been rather halted and choppy, heeded not only his fear at her response (Spock had been unable to calculate accurately if she would react violently, as the female mind often defied logic) but also by his illogical fear that to speak of his feelings would only serve to make them so much more real and inescapable.

Nyota had not gotten mad, but rather her lovely face had clouded with resignation as she had told him that she had “suspected that this was where we were going to end up since the incident on Elysium II,” and it had likely only been his overwhelming shock at her statement that had kept him from blurting out his first thought, which had been “I wish you had alerted me of that fact after discovering it,” (and Spock had then found himself re-evaluating his negative opinion of shock, as it had likely just saved him from exceedingly personal injury).   She had then proceeded to display her natural grace by taking his face in her hands and had informed him that she was going to indulge in a little illogical anger towards him for a while, but if he could give her time, then she was sure they could remain friends.  Spock had then found himself unable to do anything but agree as she had once honoured his request for the same, and after she had left he had felt a sense of both profound admiration for the strength of Nyota’s spirit and profound relief that his decision to forgo wearing protective underwear had not been a foolish one.  Spock had then, in a moment of relief driven whimsical contemplation, decided that it had likely been situations like this one that had lead to the logical development of Vulcan testes in the small of the back (it was a much harder for an irate female to deliver a substantial kick there). 

After his breakup with Nyota Spock had found himself with a substantial increase of free time on his hands (he had not previously realised how much time was devoted to maintaining a relationship).  After realising that there truly was a limit to how much one person could work (a revelation aided by Jim locking him out of the science lab after a twenty hour shift) he had begun devoting more time towards a new interest of his: observing Jim.  Objectively, Spock had rationalized that he was doing such because he had been attempting to determine if anything in the captain’s manner would indicate the desire to the begin a sexual relationship, but in the interest of being truthful to himself he had acknowledged that Jim’s presence had become like water and Spock, in the nature of true desert dwellers had wanted to absorb as much as possible, for fear of having to go without it. 

That was not to say that his observations had not served their other purpose; he had in fact noticed several signs that normally would have precluded a relationship, had they not been perpetrated by James T. Kirk.  He had known from the beginning of their mission together that Jim had been flirting with him, but Spock had possessed enough experience to realise that such behaviour meant nothing, as Kirk flirted with everyone and everything.  Spock had even once caught his Captain (who had at the time been thoroughly incapacitated by alcohol) flirting with a statue during a shore leave that had occurred a few months into their mission.  It had been, he’d supposed a very nice statue (anatomically speaking), but Kirk had most certainly not wanted a relationship with it and the incident had proved to him that Kirk’s flirtations were not meant with a specific end goal in mind. 

Other than Jim’s gratuitous flirting, Spock had also noticed that he was (or at least had been), a very tactile person.  Spock had observed that since the incident on planet “Fuckin Candyland Nightmare from Hell” (a name that Jim had devised and refused to allow the crew use any other, including its proper name) Jim had decreased his amount of physical contact towards Spock by %79.6, a percentage which might have made Spock suspicious except for two reasons.  The first was that the decrease had not been accompanied by any other telling behaviour such as a an avoidance of Spock’s company or any prolonged staring (he had read in a educational text called a “bodice ripper” that these were typical behaviours for human individuals in love) and so Spock had logically assumed that Jim had finally decided to perpetrate the socially acceptable behaviour of respecting the personal space of a Vulcan by not intruding on it.  Spock had surprisingly found that instead of being pleased at Jim’s new emotional maturity he had been illogically (and a bit petulantly) upset at whatever had caused it.  The second reason Spock’s suspicions had not been roused was because he had been reluctant (embarrassed) to admit to even himself that he had missed Kirk’s touches to the point of calculating exactly how much they had decreased.

Finally, there was of course the rather insurmountable issue that Kirk (at least to Spock’s impressive knowledge) was straight, and while Spock had felt no shame when he had discovered his feelings; homosexuality was biological and Spock had seen no logic in bemoaning over what could not be changed, he had also been aware that most humans did not feel that way.  James T. Kirk, if the numerous and exceedingly explicit rumours aboard the Enterprise were to be believed, and Spock did as none of the rumours had been started by Kirk (the cadet shortage after the Narada incident had seemingly left a few of Kirk’s more vocal past lovers on board) was interested in only women.  Spock had heard about one incident with a gender ambiguous tentacle bearing life form back at the academy, but he had ruled that incident an accident (likely fuelled by alcohol; or at least he rather hopes it was.)  And while Jim was by no means homophobic, his apparent heterosexuality and his present lack of interest in Spock (or any other man) as a romantic partner made it so the odds of a successful outcome if Spock was to approach Jim with his feelings too low to even consider such an endeavour, especially since the consequence of such an action would be the loss of his friendship with Jim (which was something he simply wasn’t willing to risk.)

So Spock had resigned himself to an existence where he and Jim were just friends and had decided to make the best of it, and for a while things had been fine (an unacceptable definition, but the only one that had fit the situation).  His relationship with Nyota had been at an all time low (chilly, he believed the human expression was) but Spock had believed Nyota and her assurances that it was going to improve with time.  And while he had lost some of his companionship with Nyota, Spock at least had the comfort of knowing that Jim was unaware of his affection for him, and since he was still able to enjoy the contentment of Jim’s (slightly less tactile) friendship Spock had concluded that ‘things could have been worse.’

In retrospect, that likely should have been Spock’s first clue that something else was going to go wrong, but he had still not been entirely convinced on the merits of Murphy’s Law (and he did have other, more immediate things - Jim - to worry about) and so he had not suspected anything.  It was safe to say that the situation he now found himself in had most certainly convinced him of the existence of Murphy’s Law (at least aboard the Enterprise), and although Spock’s research had not given him any solid details as to who Murphy had been, the severity of his predicament had made him doubt that even Murphy’s luck had been as bad as his own. 

He had tracked what should have been the first indication of his current state of unease to one week prior during an uneventful bridge shift in the neutral zone.  Though Spock was loath to use the word “boring” to describe anything (boredom was not exactly a preferred Vulcan state of mind) the shift had been so dull that boring was the only term that had accurately described it and Spock had been forced to resort to alternatively doing calculus in his head and sneaking (highly discreet and covert) glances at Jim to keep himself from falling asleep like Ensign Chekov.  So, considering his boredom and his distracted state of mind (Jim had been sucking on his knuckles which might have been an insignificant gesture to humans but was the Vulcan equivalent of a lap dance; needless to say his thoughts had not been on his station) Spock had hardly even been consciously aware of the trio of minors errors that he had recited.   However, since his lapse had not been brought up by any other members of the crew, and he had possessed logical justification for said errors Spock had written the matter off and had not given it anymore thought (and hadn’t that recently become something he now seriously regretted).

In fact, it had not been until several days later that Spock had finally realised that there was something seriously wrong with him.  He had been leaving the bridge at the end of his shift to return to his quarters for some much needed mediation when he had rounded one of the corners and had stopped dead at the tableau he had regarded.  Nyota and Jim were standing in the middle of the hallway; Nyota with her arms around Jim’s neck while Jim had his wrapped gently around her waist, their faces close, a smile gracing Nyota’s.  Spock had been hit with the strangest wave of anger (and jealously, though he would not admit it), stronger even than the anger he had felt while choking the life out of his Captain, and he could think of only one (not completely illogical) reason for it.  He found that his fury was not directed at Jim as Nyota was no longer “Spock’s girl” and so Jim was once again free to pursue her if he so wished, but rather at Nyota because she was apparently attempting to instigate a relationship while she was aware of Spock’s feelings which seemed spiteful, or at least unnaturally cruel. 

Then Jim had returned Nyota’s smile and Spock felt something snap suddenly with a silently brittle sound and he had started moving towards them; stride purposeful with the wild and uncultured notion of ripping Nyota from Jim’s grasp for having the gall to flaunt what she could have effortlessly and Spock would give anything to have.  He had almost reached them when had Jim looked up and met Spock’s eyes, holding the contact for a breathless moment that Spock would have cherished if he hadn’t been so consumed by anger (and jealously).  Jim had broken their gaze and had instantly pulled his arms from Nyota and with his palms raised in an instinctual calming gesture, had promptly turned around and fled the hallway, leaving Spock alone with Nyota.

Spock had stared at the Captain’s retreating back until it had disappeared around the corner and had moved forward as if to follow but he was stopped by the weight of Nyota’s hand on his arm.  She had enquired about the state of his health, but he had not heard over the rush of his thoughts as he had stared at her hand; the same hand that had rested on Jim’s flesh only a moment before.  Spock had felt himself heat even further (he was surprised Nyota’s hand had not burned; surely his skin was on fire) until he was nothing more than an inferno of anger and possessiveness because Nyota had touched what she should not have; what belonged to Spock alone and suddenly his thoughts had caught up with him and he had ripped his arm from her grasp violently and had brushed past her in his haste to get away before he hurt her or someone else in his haze.

When Spock had reached the sanctuary of his quarters, he had begun to pace (an irritating human habit, but he was too wound up for meditation) in an attempt to calm the maelstrom that was his thoughts.   Wanting Jim was not new to him, but now the sheer intensity of his desires frightened him.  He wanted to grab Jim and drag him away, safe from the temptation and appreciation of others.  He wanted to fuck him until he left bruises on the fragile human flesh that would serve as reminders of who he belonged to; until Jim could feel the brand of Spock’s presence on his very soul.  He wanted to make him submit; to own him mind, body and spirit.  And in that moment Spock had realised exactly what was wrong with him, and every cell in his body had seemed to freeze (a phenomenon that he would have found fascinating under different circumstances) because despite his hybrid biology it seemed that he was still Vulcan enough for the purgatory that was pon farr.  It had been then that Spock had finally understood the true nature of irony; he had spent nearly all of his life wishing to be more Vulcan, and in that moment as he stood had in his room, blood burning with the curse of his race, his wish granted, he had been unable to do anything but wish that he was less.  Irony he’d decided (to borrow a phrase from his captain) fuckin’ sucked.

With the terrible weight of his new revelation resting on his soul, Spock began to rationalize his situation to determine a plan of action.  One, he was in pon farr.  This was undeniably true; his new reality and his new nightmare as if he didn’t mate he was going to die.  Two, his intended mate was dead.  This also was fact; T’Pring had died in the destruction of Vulcan and with her death their bond had broken, leaving Spock without a mate now that his pon farr had occurred.  Three, in its absence, Spock had apparently unconsciously sought out and formed a partial bond with Jim Kirk.  This, while not a scientifically proven fact was the only logical reason he could come up with in explanation of his current dilemma.  In the wake of the destruction of his first bond his mind must have, during a meld, recognized the compatibility of their minds and created a fledging bond to Jim to replace his previous one.  It was point three that was the true root of the problem because he was now being drawn to Kirk as his blood heated in the ancient thrall of his race and in his madness he could try and harm Kirk; to force him and in doing so lose his precious friendship with Kirk (and with it lose himself and everything precious in his life).

It was the loss of Kirk was the defining thought; the thought that made everything crystal clear and simple.  He had already died once for Jim, before he had loved him and now that he did what he needed to do was brutally simple.  They were too far from New Vulcan and no one else on the ship would make a suitable alternative to Jim, so if he wanted to save Jim’s life (and there was nothing he wanted more at this point) then he was going to have to lock himself away in his room to die.  He would try mediating the affects away, but he didn’t expect to succeed (he was most certainly not an adept, although he would have even attempted Kohlinar if it could have saved Jim from this).  But it was too late now, and so Spock took a deep and resigned sigh and put his plan into action by requesting time off for a Vulcan ritual (not a lie, an implication; in another life he had apparently been very good at that.  He figured he should practice now as he doubted he would have the time his elder self had to master it). 

After his request had been approved (in the wake of the destruction of Vulcan people had become hyper aware of respecting its traditions; a tiny positive in a overwhelming sea of negatives) he had then spent the next two days mediating, stopping only for water that did nothing to quench his thirst (he was hungering for an entirely different thing than food) and to arrange his last will and testament to make sure his affairs were in order.  He had almost felt optimistic (within reason; he was dying) that his plan had been working when his terrible luck (he was beginning to develop and understanding of how conspiracy theories were formed and supported) had struck again, and his state had become evident to the one person he was truly trying to hide it from; Jim.

It had been earlier in the day (he wasn’t quite sure at what time; his internal clock had been one of the first things to go) and he had been in a deep meditative trance when he had heard the beep of a medical override and the soft swish of the door as it had opened.  He had watched, as if he was a spectator in his own body, as a young nurse (she had looked vaguely familiar; if his memory served her and Nyota had not gotten along, although he had never known why) had entered holding a tray with a bowl resting on it, steam wafting gently from it.  She had been speaking, he had been sure of that, but over the sheer rush of his thoughts he couldn’t hear her and so he had not answered in the hope she would grow tired of being ignored and leave but that wish had been crushed when she had harmlessly laid her hand on his shoulder. 

He had suddenly snapped back into his body and ripped his shoulder from her grasp because her hands had been wrong; they weren’t the hands that he needed and he could not stand her touch knowing that she wasn’t Jim.  In the next instant he was standing; shouting at her to leave and as he watched her retreat slowly towards the door he had picked up the bowl of soup (plomeek; he had never liked it) and thrown it at her, hoping to erase any evidence of her presence in his quarters.  Both the nurse and the soup had flown through the newly opened door and Spock had strode to the door frame to ensure that she wouldn’t return when a sensation, not unlike an electric shock had traveled up his spine and he had turned to meet Jim’s eyes, open extremely wide in a cocktail of shock and surprise.

The dread he had felt at Jim’s awareness of his predicament had been lost under the sheer scream of his instincts that demanded he take his mate and use him to cool the flames that sizzled under his skin.  For a moment Spock had unable to tear his gaze from Jim’s, and he had been so seduced by his thoughts that he had nearly taken a step towards Jim so he could touch, take Jim’s flesh between his hands and caress, squeeze, bruise...but at the image of Jim, broken and black from bruises inflected by Spock’s own hands he had gathered his remaining resolve (he had been pretty much out of resolve at that point and had mostly drawn on his fear; something he had in excess) and had turned and walked back into his room as fast as he could, before he lost what little control he had left and took Jim in the hall in front of everyone present.  Once inside Spock had locked down his door and immediately returned to his meditation, which had seemed even more helpless as the flames burned brighter and hotter than they had ever before.

While meditating Spock finds himself praying (although prayer is the height of illogicalness) to gods he does not believe in, not for salvation but that he would succumb to death before Jim managed to find a way into his room.  He floats among the flames, numb to everything but the heat, unaware of anything, not even the passage of time and so it could have been anywhere from a moment to an eon when he is alerted of Jim entrance.  He doesn’t hear the sound of the bathroom door opening (he had apparently forgotten that he and Jim shared a bathroom: a sign of how far gone he really is) but instead is pulled from his trance by the sound of breath escaping from ones lungs on a gasp and before he even opens his eyes he knows that it is Jim who has entered.  He sits still for a moment, absorbing the aura of Jim’s presence while he still can, before slowly rising from his position on the floor to capture those terribly blue and cherished eyes with his own (it seemed Jim eyes were still what he wanted to see as he died). 

It is looking into those eyes that Spock feels the first surge of anger, made sharp and painful by the terrible fear he feels at Jim arrival.  He knows Jim Kirk, and Jim Kirk does not give up and it is this quality that makes him so dangerous because Spock knows (in the darkest part of his soul) that if Jim realizes what is happening and offers what Spock so desperately needs in an effort to save him, he won’t have enough strength to refuse.  So it’s more panic than anger that causes him to hiss at Jim to “Get out,” and his panic only increases as Jim’s face shifts into his familiar James T. Kirk smirk (the same one Jim wore on the bridge that day) and he says, clearly and defiantly “No.”

Now the anger surges over the panic, at Jim for his idiocy in coming here and at himself for his inability to make him leave and he can almost feel his gaze become a glare as he demands “What?,” and he takes a half step towards Jim before he catches himself and clenches his hands at his side in a desperate bid for control.  Jim’s smirk changes; the expression of an animal that has scented blood and is beginning to hone in and circle its prey, and he takes another step closer to Spock; close enough that Spock can smell the tantalising scent of Jim and it makes him crave a taste.  Spock forces himself to pay attention as Jim speaks again, “I think you heard me just fine the first time, Mr. Spock,” and now his voice is a taunt and Spock’s anger increases even further and he feels his fingers clench so tightly that bright green blood begins to sweep from small crescent shaped wounds on his palms.

Now Jim’s eyes shine with the satisfaction of Spock’s response and his next words are nearly a purr, “I think you know exactly why I’m here,” and his voice pitches down an octave as he continues, low and provocative in the silence “Don’t you Spock?”  And Spock feels the flames nearly consume him as he thinks of all the women Jim must have used this same tone on and he takes another tiny step towards Jim, when what the implications of what Jim has actually said catch up with him and he stops to think.  The answer comes to him without much thought as there is only one person Spock is aware of that could have informed Jim of the specifics of his situation, and Spock voices his suspicion aloud to have it confirmed.  “You have spoken to my elder self,” and his words are no more than a forced exhalation of breath through his teeth that have clenched at the thought (and the sheer overwhelming jealously that comes with it) of his elder self being in close enough confidence with Jim to talk of that which is not spoken of.

A flash of surprise dances over Jim’s face, but he gathers his composure and counters quickly, his words a taunt that reclaims any ground he might have lost and then some.  “I like him,” and Spock feels his hackles raise as Jim continues, taking another step closer “He trusts me with stuff like this.”  And all Spock can hear is “I like him better than you.  He’s better than you,” and although Jim has not said it, the implication is crystal clear and Spock simply explodes with the heat of his jealously because he will not let his elder self have Jim in all the ways that he himself wants him and so he surges forward until his face is only inches from Jim’s and barks at him once again, “Get out!”  But Jim who is famous for disobeying orders simply moves in, like an animal does for the kill and takes the final step, closing the gap between them and whispers against Spock’s lips, sultry and defiant, “Make me.”

Contrary to popular belief, even Vulcan control has its limits and it’s the taste of Kirk’s breath as his words reach Spock’s ears that break's his.  And suddenly Spock is moving; crowding Jim up against the wall and fastening his lips to Jim’s with the desperation of a dying man (which he is), feasting on the precious coolness that is the oasis of Jim’s mouth; the only water capable of cooling the flames that are engulfing him.  For a moment, and hour, a lifetime Spock does nothing more than consumes those lips, tracing the lush curves and contours with his own, thinner ones, his desperation akin to that of a desert dweller who has gone to long without water.  Then he is pressing his aching arousal into the tautness of Jim’s stomach and nearly sighing with the relief it brings him, any sound he might make (although he doubts that sound can even leave his throat) lost into Jim’s mouth.  He is jolted rudely into awareness once more by Jim, who moans, the sound escaping the corner of their joined lips to echo into the silence like a shout and Spock yanks himself back and out of Jim’s grasp, disgusted with himself and what he has done and what he still wants to do.

“You need to leave,” he manages to force out; the only sentiment that is clear in his post-kiss fogged mind.  “Can’t you see what will happen,” and now his pain and fear and self disgust all bleed into his voice at once, “What I’ll do if you don’t?” and he punctuates his words with a thrust of his hips against Jim’s that he can no more stop than he can hold back the tides.  Jim shakes his head in refusal, in response to what he’s saying or perhaps simply to the situation (he’s not sure which) but Spock continues, desperately needing to make Jim see that he cannot be here; not now.  “You do not want this,” he forces out, words barely even a mutter.  “You do this out of duty alone, and if you do not leave I will take you anyways.  I will not force you!” and before the last word is even out Spock is aware that he is shouting, his words heavy and desperately sad from carrying the terrible weight of what he knows to be the truth.

In the wake of his words something bright flashes suddenly across Jim’s face and in the next instant he is prying one of Spock’s hands from the wall and Spock feels himself simultaneously relax and tense because it seems that Jim has finally come to his senses and is going to remove himself from harm’s way (something that should have made him suspicious if his min hadn’t been otherwise occupied) and so Spock ignores the treacherous heat in his blood that screams its displeasure at the thought in favour of the relief born from the knowledge that Jim will be alright.  However Spock soon feels said relief turn to puzzlement as instead of pushing his captured hand away and leaving, Jim brings it’s to his own forehead, positioning Spock’s fingers in a fair approximation of the meld position.  Spock feels his puzzlement increase as the faintest warmth begins to seep into the back of his mind and he allows his curiosity to overwhelm his control and opens the link.  And then suddenly Spock is drowning in heat and the world simultaneously implodes and explodes as everything he had previously thought he had known is proven wrong as he realises that Jim, against all logic, loves him.

For a moment he is simply struck dumb and his mind stalls as it furiously tries to process this new information, his thoughts nothing more than a broken recording of ‘Jim loves me, Jim loves me, Jim loves me.’  But then his thoughts simply crystallize and clear because Jim is here, Jim is willing and Jim loves him and so nothing else really matters and so Spock breaks open the link and shows Jim everything; every feeling, every wish, every dream an all the love he feels for him until they are both drowning in the heat of his pon farr and the heat they are generating together.

Then Spock is moving because he cannot stay still and he whispers, “T’hy’la.  Mine,” into Jim’s mouth because now he finally can (now he has the right) and he returns his lips to Jim’s and drinks down every sound that he makes like fine Vulcan wine.  And although years later when he looks back he will know that the madness of the plak tow had stolen much of his memory of this first time there will be glimpses that he will never forget.  The sounds Jim makes as Spock’s hands roam his body, tweaking soft, flat nipples until they harden like diamonds under Jim’s golden command shirt.  The feel of Jim’s skin against his own after he rips the clothing from their bodies, cool and damp with an underlying softness against the dry and burning hardness of Spock’s own.  The impossible completeness when he finally buries himself within the welcoming flesh of Jim’s moist tunnel that constricts and pulses around him as he thrusts desperately towards nirvana.  And finally the all consuming heat when Jim takes the tip of one of his ears in his mouth and sucks, hard and follows the gesture with a whispered, “T’hy’la.  Yours,” into the same ear and Spock simply loses himself in the ecstasy of his pleasure and his mate’s pleasure that mix together to create music more beautiful than the greatest symphony ever written.  

Later when his pon farr is over and Spock can finally think again he lays sprawled on his bed, Jim resting lethargically beside him and contemplates the recent developments that have occurred.  They are fully bonded now, of this he is sure and he takes a moment to bask in the warmth of their new bond that hums gently between them and wonders how he ever existed without knowing this.  It is not the cool distance of his bond with T’Pring, instead it is warm and pulsing and tingles with the golden aura of Jim; his t’hy’la and his happiness.  He makes a contented sound in the back of his throat as he considers the implications of t’hy’la and everything that it means to him.  It is a word that possesses no singular standard equivalent; often translated to friend, brother and lover, but it means so much more than that.  It cannot be explained, it cannot be defined, it can only be felt and because of this many Vulcan’s do not even believe in its existence.  Lying naked in Jim Kirk’s arms, Spock can think of no better word in all of the worlds to describe him.  He pauses in his contemplations for a moment as Jim shifts, the rustling of the sheets breaking the comfortable silence and his contentment only increases as Jim slides down the bed and pillows his head into Spock’s abdomen where his inhuman heart currently feels like it will burst with a mixture of human and Vulcan love.

He knows that tomorrow will bring a new day and with it new problems and new challenges, but he also knows that whatever tomorrow (and hopefully the rest of their lives) brings he and Jim will survive it together.  Perhaps it is not logical to believe (know beyond any reasonable doubt) such a thing or even to want Jim like this; to love him like this.  But now, as they lay stated in his bed, Jim’s head resting against his heart, the fires of his pon farr finally cooled, Spock can think of nowhere else he would rather be.  And so he smiles once, full and bright and whispers into the silence, “I love you, t’hy’la,” and though his last thought before he surrenders to slumber is not particularly Vulcan, he decides it is very much accurate.

As long as he has Jim, logic (and the rest of the world) can be damned. 

Chapter End Notes:

So there it is.  That took absolutely forever to write (life got in the way).  Don’t you hate it when that happens?  If anyone found that some of the last part of this story wasn’t as humorous as the beginning I want to say that it was deliberate.  Spock is dealing with some very serious moral and legal issues in parts of the late of this story, and I believe that to make those issues seem humorous would have been a serious error.  Anyways, I hope this story was enjoyable and as always reviews and constructive criticism are welcome.  Also if you find any grammatical or formatting errors, please feel free to alert me.

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