Chapter Text
Jim was pleased that the holiday party seemed to be going so well. He knew that these sorts of events were important for ship morale, and seeing every one cut loose always eased something in his own chest as Captain. Amidst the busy, moving mass of dancers, Jim noticed Nyota Uhura and Christine Chapel jumping, swaying and laughing together, Lieutenants Riley, Hikaru Sulu and Jane Tormolen all crowded together, each hollering into a microphone in the clear, soundproofed Karaoke booth. McCoy and Scotty were in one corner, both nearly in tears laughing, and ensigns, lieutenants, and commanders alike all seemed to be having a grand old time. Amidst the busy loud movement of the party, Jim noticed Spock, sidled against the far wall. The prim First Officer stood stock still, with no drink, and alone. Jim tried to make his way casually over, but instead made something like a beeline directly for his First Officer.
“Mr. Spock, it’s good to see you here.” he beamed.
“Captain,” Spock’s eyes seemed to relax at seeing Jim. “Happy Holidays.” He inclined his head politely.
“Happy Holidays,” he returned. "Although I’m aware that no Vulcan traditions fall during this time."
“Vulcan does not observe any holidays as such, but my mother always celebrated Hanukkah.” Spock intoned, and was immediately rewarded with a double take from Jim, whose face then dawned into a look of wondrous delight.
“You celebrated Hanukkah?” He asked, incredulous.
“Affirmative. Rosh Hashana and Passover as well most years.” Spock confirmed.
Jim simply stared for a moment, before mentally shaking himself. Why did he suddenly have an image in his mind of Spock in a yarmulke, and furthermore, why was it causing heat to grow in his groin? He cleared his throat.
“My mother is Jewish as well, and we always celebrated Hanukkah, and Passover when we were younger,” Jim shared. Hopefully this would explain his staring. Spock’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“Chag chanuka sameach,” Spock intoned with perfect Hebrew pronunciation, even better than Jim’s uncle, who’d been a Rabbi.
“Ah Freilichin Hanukkah,” Jim replied in Yiddish. Jim felt his cheeks heat, and his mind whirl with this realization of such a similarity between them, despite so many differences.
“Speaking of holidays… Isn’t it your birthday next week?” Jim asked. He’d noticed this on the First Officer’s file the other day, and he’d memorized it uninentionally and instantly. But the way Spock’s expression froze up infinitesimally made Jim regret that he mentioned it.
“It… It is irrelevant.” Spock stated stiffly.
“I won’t mention it to anyone, Spock.” Jim assured him, and was relieved to see how Spock’s shoulders relaxed to their previous state. “All I’ll say is, I wish you many happy returns. May you live long and prosper.” he inclined his head. And now, Spock’s eyes met his and their gaze was unbroken for a long moment.
“Thank you, Captain.” and when Spock’s low baritone rumbled, Jim was pleased that he sounded like he meant it.
“Come get a drink with me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Spock—” Jim stopped. “This is a party. It’s important to me that you understand that this is not an order, but simply an invitation.”
“I understand.” Spock stated, a slight upturn to his lips. “After you, Jim.”
Jim smiled at this, and the two made their way through the crowd of crew members to where the refreshments were being served.
An hour later, Jim was a bit tipsy, and totally enraptured, still talking to Spock in a quieter corner of the room.
“When did you decide you would become a ship’s Captain?” Spock asked.
The personal question nearly melted Jim, and he resisted the urge to squirm giddily in his seat. Spock wanted to know him better?? He leveled his breathing and thought for a moment.
“Well, when I was… too young, I worked on a cargo ship. Just a freighter, the SS Adelaide. And at the time it felt so glamorous but of course, it was just hauling boxes. But I remember just being glad to be there. If I got to be on a ship, and be out among the stars while I was hauling boxes, then that was enough.” Jim intoned. “It was enough to see the different planets, different people. To be on the verge of some new place that I’d never seen or heard of before every day. Because even if you study all these places, it’s nothing like really seeing it, you know? But, to answer your question…”
Jim considered now, and he knew the answer to Spock’s question, but he didn’t know how much to share. Spock simply waited, as if he had all the time in the world for Jim to formulate his answer.
“One day we were dropping cargo on a planet and when we stepped off the ship, it was in the middle of being occupied by Klingons.”
Spock’s brow furrowed at this, his expression concerned.
Jim nodded, seconding the concern. “We were delivering to the Klingons. We’d had dealings with them before, but this time it was while they were rounding people up, sending them either to labor camps, or having them beaten or executed for noncompliance… and I was just there… dropping off boxes like it was any other day.”
Spock’s eyes never left Jim. “And that was when you decided to become a Captain?”
“It was actually after that.” Jim said. “I was scanning each box, checking them out of our inventory when one of the beings who lived in the village had hidden behind our delivery, and they started speaking to me. I didn’t have a universal translator or anything at the time, and I don’t know what language they were using, but I still knew they were asking for help.” he sighed. “And I wanted to give it. I was going to… I don’t know what I would have done, but I was ready to do anything to help. But then a Klingon spotted them, and threw them away from me, and began to beat them. My own Captain ordered me to finish what I was doing and to get back on the Adelaide. All the while, that person was screaming just ten feet from me, and…” Jim lapsed into silence, and Spock wondered if he’d reached the end of his story. He waited.
“The next day, the First Officer talked to me, and told me that of course it was laudable to wish to help, but had I gone off, half cocked and tried to fight a Klingon battalion, we would have all been killed. That I had a responsibility to the ship, and to it’s crew. Not just myself. That was the day that I first thought… ‘Well, then I’ll get my own.’” he concluded.
Spock realized he was staring rather blatantly, unwilling to look away when Jim’s eyes met his at last.
“Sorry, it’s a rather maudlin tale…”
Spock shook his head. “I am grateful to have heard it.”
Jim sighed heavily. “How about you?” He asked. “What got you to sign up for Starfleet?”
Spock sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t have a tale such as yours. I have always been interested in the sciences, and in learning more about the infinite diversity of the cosmos. Looking back, I believe I selected Starfleet over the Vulcan Science Academy because it would mean I was away from my Father.”
Jim laughed at this, the sound was rich and musical, and Spock thought he’d never know joy like that of making Jim Kirk laugh.
When the Captain had sighed, and stopped laughing, he asked, “You said you were always interested in learning more about the infinite diversity of the cosmos… that’s the Vulcan philosophy… K'lalatar… prnak'lirli?”
Spock’s breath caught minutely at hearing Jim pronounce Golic (poorly), as it did every time the man tried to speak Spock’s native language. “Infinite diversity in infinite combinations, yes. It is the philosophy that is at the root of Surakian Logic. That one must seek out the joy of the infinite diversity present in the cosmos.”
“So, you wished to experience the joy of witnessing such diversity?” Jim probed gently.
Spock felt his ears heating. But before he could confirm or deny such an emotive statement, there was a loud cheer from a group behind them. They both glanced around, and if Spock wasn’t mistaken, they both seemed to remember that they were in a party full of their fellow crew. They lapsed into silence for a moment.
Jim spoke now, seeming to realize that Spock had perhaps been embarrassed at the pointed question about his feelings. “I used to try to tell which stars were which, even when I wasn’t on Earth, you know. It’s difficult without a star chart that is identifying everything for you, but I was always able to find Betelgeuse of course, that's how you orient yourself, and from there things got tricky. Sol is never easy to find. She’s rather ordinary amidst it all. Strange how, even a thousand lightyears from home, Betelgeuse was what kept me oriented rather than my own star.”
“On Vulcan, Sol is part of a constellation called shi’masu,” Spock stated.
“The… place of water?” Jim asked, combing through his fragmented understanding of Golic.
“The Oasis.” Spock corrected gently.
Jim’s fingers pressed over his lips which were quirked in a beguiling grin that betrayed some embarrassment at his crude translation. “I’m afraid my Golic is rather literal at times.”
“It takes many years to perfect, you do it justice with how little time you’ve had to master it.” Spock insisted.
“You flatter me, Mr. Spock.” Jim shook his head, and Spock noted that his cheeks were rather darker than usual. “So, where in all your journeys through the stars is your favorite place you’ve ever been?” Jim asked, his eyes alight with curiosity.
Spock considered this for a moment before landing on a specific memory. “The crystal valleys of X2328 stand out in my memory. That was in my first year with Captain Pike. Each quartz crystal was kilometers high, taller than any mountain on Earth, and taller than most on Vulcan. Each spire was more pure than any crystal typically found in such natural abundance; entirely clear without trace of another mineral or element. The planet was as yet, uninhabited by any living thing and so was utterly silent, save for the winds that whistled and howled through the crystal canyons. It was a bleak, austere, and stunningly beautiful environment.” He concluded.
If Jim’s eyes were transfixed on Spock as he spoke, as if in a trance. “Spock, you have quite a way of turning a phrase.” he hummed gently.
“I simply reported the conditions as they presented themselves,” Spock shrugged. Just then, Spock noticed that someone was staring at the Captain. It was Dr. Harvey Noel. One of the ship psychologists. The intention behind the stare told Spock that there was a good chance that the man was considering coming to speak to Jim.
“Captain, I believe someone wishes to speak with you,” Spock stated. “Dr. Noel, in the other corner.”
Jim surreptitiously glanced around the room as if taking in the general scene around them, and then turned back to Spock.
“Is he coming over yet?” Jim asked.
“Not yet. Is he your provider?” Spock asked.
“No, is he yours?”
Spock arched an eyebrow. “I do not see a ship psychologist, as they are all human and would have little in the way of assistance for my unique psychiatric needs.”
Jim’s brow furrowed. “Wait, you don’t see—?”
“Dr. Noel is now headed toward us.” Spock reported, somewhat relieved to have reason to distract Jim’s attention from the fact that Spock had not seen any of the ship’s psychologists, which he'd so far obscured from others. Spock had not seen any since Dr. M’Benga had been reassigned to the USS Exeter. But at the news that Dr. Noel was approaching, Jim’s face tightened, and his shoulders followed suit.
“Excuse me, I hope I’m not interrupting,” the new Dr. Noel stated, approaching the two men, and taking a seat beside Jim, whose face had relaxed into the grin that Spock saw the Captain use most often. It was his trained, charming negotiator smile. The one that so many found pleasantly disarming.
“Not at all!” Jim beamed. “Join us, please.”
“Thanks,” Dr. Noel smiled, and settled into a seat beside Jim. “Mr. Spock, correct? I don’t think we’ve had the chance to formally meet yet, I’m Dr. Harvey Noel—”
“Ship’s psychologist, I’m aware,” Spock nodded. Perhaps Dr. Noel found this abrupt. Spock didn’t particularly mind, but was pleased when the doctor at least did not try to shake hands. He was still warring with his own irritation at being interrupted while having such a very pleasant talk with Jim.
“Are you enjoying the party, Doctor?” Jim asked, and now was fully turned to Dr. Noel.
“Oh, please,” the man huffed, “Call me Harvey. But yeah, it’s great. I had no idea that ships threw such big parties.” he said, looking around curiously. “I feel like the unpopular kid in high school all over again, though. I don’t really know anyone except my patients, and I can’t exactly walk up and ask them to hang out.”
Jim smiled at this. “No, good point. Well we’re glad to be the unpopular kids with you.” he teased.
“So what were you both talking about?” Harvey asked, and Spock thought this somewhat rude. If Jim thought so as well, his smile didn’t falter in the slightest, although Spock thought he detected a tightness around the corner of his eyes once again.
“Well, I was about to mention to Mr. Spock here that my drink had gone dry, and see about venturing out to get more, would you both—”
“Please, Captain, allow me.” Spock interrupted, standing abruptly. He walked off before Jim could object, as Spock knew he would.
Spock focused on his breath as he walked. He focused on releasing his sense of disappointment at being interrupted. And his—it couldn’t be jealousy, could it? But as he turned and saw Jim and Harvey turned toward each other, each talking animatedly, he felt the burn in him. Yes. It was jealousy.
Entirely illogical.
Unproductive and useless.
Jim was not his to possess and cloister away for the whole evening.
As much as he might enjoy time with the Captain, and enjoy talking to him, they saw each other all the time, every day. Furthermore, he had been successful so far in keeping his feelings of desire for Jim at bay through meditation. Of course the day that they’d met Balok nearly had Spock confessing extremely private, humiliating thoughts to the man while they waited for their imminent death. But he’d succeeded in keeping his thoughts to himself.
Occasionally, Spock thought that perhaps Jim was staring at him with warmth that was saved just for him, but now as Spock watched the Captain gaze at Harvey, he thought that perhaps he was mistaken. Spock was simply allowing his own attraction and respect and… fondness for the man color his interactions. Jim didn’t feel that way about him anymore than he did about Harvey or anyone else. He was a man of great emotion, and Spock would do well to remember that.
*_*_*
Spock had dropped off two drinks for Jim and Harvey and then had politely stated that he would retire to meditate for the evening, late as it was. Jim was sorry to see him go, but he also was… damn it, he was relieved.
If he couldn’t flirt with Spock, or make any real claim to the man, then he’d be better off spending his time with someone else. Dr. Harvey Noel seemed more than keen to take up the role. And why not? Jim wondered as the two talked. He was attractive, sweet, and his rank and role on the ship ensured a minimal power dynamic between them. He was exactly what Jim was looking for in a partner, including the dark hair and brown eyes which Jim had always appreciated but that he particularly preferred lately.
So Jim was annoyed with himself when he couldn’t commit himself with very much energy. Maybe it was that Harvey laughed at his jokes too easily, or that he found himself telling the same stories he used to tell his dates when he was an escort. It was all by the book, and exactly what he was used to in a date.
They talked for a while. They danced. And then, Jim politely stated that he ought to go to retire as well. He was Captain after all, and would be expected on the bridge bright and early the next morning. If Harvey looked a bit disappointed, Jim ignored it, and stalked back to his quarters, alone.
*_*_*
Spock meditated for several hours that night.
His father had trained him all those years ago, when Spock was still only four years old, how to meditate. That in order to release one's emotions, one must be aware of them. It was like a wasp in the room. If you don’t know that there is a wasp in the room, how can one possibly plan to contain it, to deal with it at all? So first, the wasp must be observed, and known. In this way, emotions must be observed and known through meditation. Only once this is complete can one effectively harness the emotion and release it from the mind and body, letting it go.
It was illogical to continue to harbor these emotions of attraction for someone who he would stand alongside for hours of each day, for the next several years, and who was likely incapable of returning his regard. It would be rather like keeping an entire wasp’s nest on the bridge. Illogical and counterproductive. Even if the Captain did return his regard, it was clearly in the same way that the Captain seemed to regard many people. People Dr. Harvey Noel. The Captain's ability to love people in this way, with his whole self, was highly admirable. It was not something Spock shared, but was entirely endearing.
And even if Jim did return Spock’s affections, Spock could never be what Jim would need in a partnership. He knew this. Humans were emotional beings, who had, in some way, learned to live with wasps. He knew that humans needed that emotional life, and they often needed emotional return from their partners. Even human infants required a certain level of emotional engagement in order for their neural connections to grow as they should. Spock would never be able to provide this to Jim.
Humans often waited for Spock to reveal some inner self that he kept at bay, thinking that he was simply too shy or too repressed to fully open up. Spock wouldn’t engage in a relationship with anyone who he thought he might eventually disappoint by not having a deeper self that would laugh, smile and talk animatedly.
Furthermore, Spock was aware that Jim preferred beautiful people. Like Gary Mitchell, or Dr. Noel. Spock remembered with humiliation the day that he'd forgotten to lock the fresher, and Jim had opened the door, and stared at Spock in his underwear. How his eyes had locked on the scars on his leg and feet. Spock could never satisfy Jim in that way.
Jim had made it clear that he respected Spock. He asked his opinion, he discussed plans and ideas with him, and they were a well coordinated team these days. Hardly needing to speak to work effectively together.
Jim had made it clear that he cared for Spock. He worried about his well-being, and sought to aid when he knew Spock was suffering. He'd thought of the night, not too long ago when he'd had Scotty rig the sauna so hot that it would actually be of therapeutic use for Spock's sore muscles after his legs had been broken and rehealed by the dangerous teenager, Charlie. He made him tea when they played chess, and made sure Spock had time to meditate, or even swapped him meals if they were served animal flesh during diplomatic dinners.
These were the facts.
Jim respected and cared for Spock, but he could never be attracted to him, and could never love him.
Spock focused intently through his meditation, accepting that if he would continue serving the Captain, as he fully intended, he must release not only his feelings in this regard. Not only his feelings of physical or intimate attraction, but his feelings of warmth. Of friendship. He could not continue as he had so far. Already, he’d known an overwhelming desire to protect, to serve that outpaced his duty as a crew member and First Officer. Spock knew that he would go to great lengths for Jim Kirk’s safety, and just as much for his happiness. It was illogical, and selfish to continue into a route that would quickly lead to his emotional compromise.
Spock breathed deeply in his trance, and released his humiliation at what his father would think if he knew that his son was worrying that he was emotionally compromised due to feelings of attraction for his Captain.
Spock took another deep breath, releasing his worry at his emotional compromise.
He took another breath, releasing his preference for Jim Kirk. His attachment, his fondness, letting each thought of Jim flow away like grains of sand slipping through his fingertips.
So as he rose from his meditation that day, Spock determined that he would begin purging himself of these emotions with everything he knew of the kolinhar. Perhaps he could even request a leave of absence and take a longer, several day meditation, obscuring the memories he had of his feelings…