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A distinct smell drifted out of the kitchen. Spock paused for a fraction of a second to determine its source: the sponge cake. Just as he was about to stand up to investigate the situation…

“Cake!” Jim jumped up them promptly fell back down with a squeak.

“I know I know. I’m not as agile as before.” Jim waved at Spock’s direction while rubbing the now strained back, missing the small twitch of Spock’s lip.

“Allow me?” Spock stood with the grace of a Vulcan. Walking around to Jim, he placed his mate’s hand in his.

“Ah.” Jim sighed contently. Neither paid any attention to the frantic steps that rushed down the stairs through the lounge heading towards the Kitchen, nor the exasperated “Dad!”

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