writers_island (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
writers_island) wrote2010-02-16 01:37 am
writers_island) wrote2010-02-16 01:37 am
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Star Trek XI -- "Paper Hearts"
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ksvalentine 2010
prompt: Kirk is being 'pursued' by a mystery crew member over Valentine's (cards, flowers, chocolates, notes, etc), and hides in Spock's cabin. Only much later, does Kirk find out it was Spock all along...
Paper Hearts | PG | 2456 words | complete
Jim didn’t even realize the object was there until he sat on it, the crunching sound oddly loud over the normal beeps and bleeps on the otherwise silent bridge. As unobtrusively as he could, he shifted so he could pull it out from under his ass. It was a card, a little wrinkled but otherwise intact. It appeared to be handmade—rather than replicated—a simple piece of thick paper, folded in half, with a red heart on the front. The message inside was equally simple: Be My Valentine written in Standard, the letters elegant and slightly calligraphic. It wasn’t signed.
It was only then that Jim remembered that Valentine’s Day was only a day away. He vaguely remembered signing some form permitting the crew to decorate, but Jim had only barely been aware of the glittery hearts and other decorations going up around his ship. Valentine’s Day had never been one of Jim’s favorite holidays.
Jim spent the rest of the shift working on paperwork and idly wondering who had left him the card. Spock had had the bridge for the last shift, but someone could easily have slipped the card onto the captain’s chair when neither of them were looking. The shift change would only have increased the number of people moving around on the bridge, providing effective cover for whoever it was to leave the card unnoticed.
Jim knew who he would have liked to have left the card, but he could imagine Spock’s opinion of Valentine’s Day: a highly illogical and overly emotional human holiday. Jim let himself imagine what Spock’s face would look like as he said the words, only the faintest tilt of one eyebrow expressing his disgust at the whole subject. Jim had gotten very good at reading Spock’s subtle expressions, and he was pleased to be able to name the other being as one of his closest friends. He knew it was selfish and stupid (highly illogical, an inner voice provided, sounding depressingly like Spock) to want more.
*
After Alpha Shift, Jim went to his ready room, intent on burying himself in paperwork. But there was another surprise waiting for him, this time a small stuffed bear, white with a red, heart-shaped patch on its stomach. There was no note, but Jim had a feeling that it was from the same person who had left the card. Jim picked up the bear—he had to admit, it was kind of cute—and moved it to one side. He turned on the PADD that had been sitting underneath it, but rather than the requisitions he’d been working on, there was a red heart on the screen, and the words Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. Jim frowned, but after a few minutes the screen cleared and the requisitions form appeared.
*
There was another card on his chair during his next bridge shift (Love does not dominate; it cultivates), and others came out of the replicator when he tried to get his lunch (I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where) and dinner (Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love). Jim was starting to get tired of it. He’d never been one for the romantic gesture, and he found he wasn’t enjoying being on the receiving end. He didn’t even have anyone he could complain to. Bones would probably laugh at him, and Spock…Spock might let him hide, which would be a good thing.
“Computer, locate Commander Spock,” Jim said to the console in his ready room, where he’d hidden after eating his dinner. He felt like the bear was staring at him, so he turned it to face the wall.
“Commander Spock is in Lab 1.”
“Kirk to Mr. Spock.”
“Spock here, Captain,” came the reply after a moment of static.
“How’s that experiment of yours going?” Jim asked. Spock had requested some temporary schedule changes so he could work on it, and Jim was finding that he missed Spock’s presence on the bridge.
“The current stage is progressing as I hypothesized.”
“I’m going to assume that it’s going well, then,” Jim said, and he could picture Spock’s incredulous eyebrow. “Join me for a game of chess? I really think I’m going to win tonight.”
“You may try,” Spock said, and Jim laughed. Who said the Vulcan didn’t have a sense of humor? “The experiment can continue unobserved for the time being. I will meet you in your quarters?”
“No!” Jim didn’t want to know what was waiting for him there. “I mean, why don’t we play in your quarters. If that’s alright, of course,” he added. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“It would not be an imposition,” Spock said, and Jim was sure he was imagining the warmth in Spock voice. “It will be possible for me to leave the lab in 3.2 minutes.”
“I’ll meet you in ten, give or take,” Jim said, smirking, knowing the lack of accuracy annoyed his XO. Bones wasn’t the only one who made a sport out of Vulcan baiting.
*
Spock won the game, of course, and Jim found himself stalling afterward, and not just because he was avoiding his quarters. He enjoyed spending time with Spock, his dry sense of humor. And yes, he had to admit that he had a bit of a crush, but he still hoped that would go away in time.
But finally Spock got tired of him, if the raised eyebrow, accompanied by, “Captain, I believe you will require rest before your next shift” was anything to go on.
Jim sighed. “Suppose so. Thanks for putting up with me.”
“I find our chess games to be surprisingly illuminating,” Spock said, and Jim decided to take that as a compliment.
Jim realized he hadn’t even mentioned the valentines during their game; he’d even forgotten for a little while. And he wasn’t going to bring it up now. Instead, he said goodnight to Spock and left his quarters.
Jim was still worried about what he’d find in his quarters. If the person could get into his ready room and reprogram the replicator, he had no doubt they could get into his quarters. But other than another card on his desk (I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach), there wasn’t even any evidence someone else had been in his quarters.
Jim got ready for bed—checking the bed area and bathroom carefully first—and dimmed the lights. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day itself, and he expected his secret admirer to make his or her presence known. He fell asleep wondering what surprises they had in store for him.
He woke the next morning to the sound of a transporter, a sudden weight dropping onto the bed, and the depressingly familiar sensation of his throat closing up.
*
Jim came to to the comforting sounds and smells of sickbay. McCoy was standing over him, looking up at the biobed screen, so it took a moment before the other man noticed that he was awake. But when he did, Jim was greeted with the usual incredulous head-shake that meant he’d done something to baffle medical science. Again. “James Tiberius Kirk,” McCoy said, and Jim couldn’t help but flinch. “Only you would have an allergic reaction to roses on Valentine’s Day.”
“I just like to keep you on your toes,” Jim offered, his throat decidedly hoarse. His head was throbbing, too, which was probably related to the fact that he could feel every one of his sinus passages. “Ow, Bones,” he said in reply to the hypo he’d just been stuck with.
“That should clear up your head,” Bones said, handing Jim a glass of water. “And that’s for your throat. I’ll be back in an hour to check on you.” He turned, and Jim realized that Spock had been standing close by, watching intently. “He’s going to be fine,” McCoy said. “You can stop hovering now.”
“The action of ‘hovering’ is associated with the emotional state of concern. Vulcans do not hover,” Spock said, and Jim would have sworn he was blushing, ever so slightly. “I merely wished to ascertain the captain’s health status.”
“Which is why you’ve been standing there since he was brought in.”
Jim wasn’t surprised that Spock didn’t have an answer for that. “I will now return to the bridge,” he said instead.
“Oh, damn,” Jim said, remembering. “What about your experiment?”
“It will not suffer if watched by another member of the science department,” Spock said. “It is only logical that my duties as First Officer are of higher priority than my duties as a science officer.”
“Still, I know this was something you were looking forward to,” Jim said. “I should be back on duty soon, right?”
“Only if I’m certain you won’t stop breathing on me,” McCoy groused. “Jim, drink that water and lie back down, or so help me...”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jim said, downing the glass and handing it back to him. “Thanks for checking up on me, Spock.”
“Thanks are unnecessary,” Spock said as Jim shifted around to get comfortable, but Jim thought he spotted the slightest upturn to one corner of his mouth.
Jim turned his back to the door and closed his eyes. He could hear Bones grumbling to himself as he went into his office, and a few seconds later the hiss of the door as Spock left. He must have drifted off, because it seemed only seconds later when McCoy was shaking his shoulder to wake him up and give him another glass of water.
“Seems your secret admirer hasn’t let up,” Bones said, and Jim blinked blearily at him. “First they cover your bed with roses, and then they leave you chocolate.” He pointed to a red, heart-shaped box that was sitting on a stool next to the biobed. The was a card on top, of the now-familiar style.
“Did you see who left it?” Jim asked, picking up the card. The inside read Love is like quicksilver in the hand. Leave the fingers open and it stays. Clutch it, and it darts away, and there was another line underneath that, which simply read Sorry. Jim smiled slightly.
“No idea,” Bones said. “But I’d scan those candies first if I were you.” Jim sneered at him, but let him do it.
*
Bones let him out of the sickbay after another hour of observation, but wasn’t going to let him back on duty until the next day. This left Jim at loose ends. Normally, he’d go back to his quarters and read or catch up on paperwork. But he was a little worried what he might find there, and if yesterday had been anything to go by, he knew to expect other “gifts” throughout the day. So, the goal was to find somewhere his would-be Valentine wouldn’t expect. Jim knew the perfect place.
Jim stopped off at his quarters first—which had thankfully been cleared of roses—to drop off the chocolates and change from his pajamas into jeans and a t-shirt. He also grabbed his PADD, and then headed down the corridor...to Spock’s quarters.
Deciding that using his command override would be too easy, Jim decided to hack the lock. It only took a couple of minutes, and then he was in the hot, dim recesses of Spock’s quarters. He hadn’t realized that Spock actually turned the temperature down when Jim was there.
Despite the natural urge to snoop, Jim decided the least intrusive thing would be to sit at the table where they usually played chess. That way, he was only barely entering Spock’s space, and he would be seen immediately when Spock came in. He could apologize later.
He had gotten through most of his backlog by the time he heard the hiss of the door opening. He looked up just in time to see Spock’s shocked expression—a real expression!—even if it only lasted a second before Spock regained control. “Captain, may I inquire as to the purpose of your presence in my quarters?”
“I’m hiding,” Jim admitted, putting down his PADD. Spock stepped inside and the door slid shut behind him. “From whoever’s been sending me valentines. This would be the last place they’d look, I’m sure. I’m sorry if this was too much of an...invasion.”
“I would prefer a request in the future,” Spock said, but the slight tilt of his eyebrow told Jim he was amused. “However, it is my opinion this ‘secret admirer’ will not leave additional tokens in your quarters today.” He went over to the desk and seemed to stand there, uncertain.
“Oh?” Jim said, standing up. “Think I scared them this morning?”
“Indubitably,” Spock said. He opened a drawer in the desk and took out a small parcel. He looked at it for a long moment and then held it out to Jim.
Perplexed, Jim crossed the room to take it. It was small but heavy, wrapped in plain red paper. He turned it over, and was surprised to see one of the cards he’d become so familiar with. Are we not like two volumes of one book? it said inside, and Jim delayed looking at Spock by removing the card and opening the gift. It was a book, the antique paper kind, hardcover. It was a book of poetry, the love poems of Lord Byron.
“I had thought that this would still be appreciated,” Spock said, and Jim looked up at him. The other being’s expression was the blankest Jim had seen it in a long time.
“It was you?” Jim asked, still not quite able to wrap his head around the idea.
“I inquired of a number of crew members as to the proper rituals for this holiday,” Spock said. He definitely seemed nervous now. “I found some of the information to be contradictory. And I do not understand how a small, plush sehlat is related to a human holiday. Humans are a strange, overly emotional species, and I...”
He trailed off as Jim lifted his right hand, the first two fingers extended and the rest curled; he had been paying attention in those Comparative Species classes, no matter what it had looked like. “Yes, I will. Be your Valentine,” he added, when Spock didn’t react.
Spock’s eyes widened slightly, and he raised his hand. Jim felt a jolt up his arm when their fingertips touched, and he was surprised to hear himself moaning. He dropped the book onto the desk and lifted his left hand to pull Spock into a Human kiss, pleased when Spock met him halfway.
His last coherent thought was that maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad, after all.
Feedback is better than chocolate.
A/N: Quotes, in order: Lao Tzu, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Pablo Neruda, Albert Einstein, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Dorothy Parker, Marceline Desbordes-Valmore.
ksvalentine 2010prompt: Kirk is being 'pursued' by a mystery crew member over Valentine's (cards, flowers, chocolates, notes, etc), and hides in Spock's cabin. Only much later, does Kirk find out it was Spock all along...
Paper Hearts | PG | 2456 words | complete
Jim didn’t even realize the object was there until he sat on it, the crunching sound oddly loud over the normal beeps and bleeps on the otherwise silent bridge. As unobtrusively as he could, he shifted so he could pull it out from under his ass. It was a card, a little wrinkled but otherwise intact. It appeared to be handmade—rather than replicated—a simple piece of thick paper, folded in half, with a red heart on the front. The message inside was equally simple: Be My Valentine written in Standard, the letters elegant and slightly calligraphic. It wasn’t signed.
It was only then that Jim remembered that Valentine’s Day was only a day away. He vaguely remembered signing some form permitting the crew to decorate, but Jim had only barely been aware of the glittery hearts and other decorations going up around his ship. Valentine’s Day had never been one of Jim’s favorite holidays.
Jim spent the rest of the shift working on paperwork and idly wondering who had left him the card. Spock had had the bridge for the last shift, but someone could easily have slipped the card onto the captain’s chair when neither of them were looking. The shift change would only have increased the number of people moving around on the bridge, providing effective cover for whoever it was to leave the card unnoticed.
Jim knew who he would have liked to have left the card, but he could imagine Spock’s opinion of Valentine’s Day: a highly illogical and overly emotional human holiday. Jim let himself imagine what Spock’s face would look like as he said the words, only the faintest tilt of one eyebrow expressing his disgust at the whole subject. Jim had gotten very good at reading Spock’s subtle expressions, and he was pleased to be able to name the other being as one of his closest friends. He knew it was selfish and stupid (highly illogical, an inner voice provided, sounding depressingly like Spock) to want more.
After Alpha Shift, Jim went to his ready room, intent on burying himself in paperwork. But there was another surprise waiting for him, this time a small stuffed bear, white with a red, heart-shaped patch on its stomach. There was no note, but Jim had a feeling that it was from the same person who had left the card. Jim picked up the bear—he had to admit, it was kind of cute—and moved it to one side. He turned on the PADD that had been sitting underneath it, but rather than the requisitions he’d been working on, there was a red heart on the screen, and the words Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. Jim frowned, but after a few minutes the screen cleared and the requisitions form appeared.
There was another card on his chair during his next bridge shift (Love does not dominate; it cultivates), and others came out of the replicator when he tried to get his lunch (I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where) and dinner (Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love). Jim was starting to get tired of it. He’d never been one for the romantic gesture, and he found he wasn’t enjoying being on the receiving end. He didn’t even have anyone he could complain to. Bones would probably laugh at him, and Spock…Spock might let him hide, which would be a good thing.
“Computer, locate Commander Spock,” Jim said to the console in his ready room, where he’d hidden after eating his dinner. He felt like the bear was staring at him, so he turned it to face the wall.
“Commander Spock is in Lab 1.”
“Kirk to Mr. Spock.”
“Spock here, Captain,” came the reply after a moment of static.
“How’s that experiment of yours going?” Jim asked. Spock had requested some temporary schedule changes so he could work on it, and Jim was finding that he missed Spock’s presence on the bridge.
“The current stage is progressing as I hypothesized.”
“I’m going to assume that it’s going well, then,” Jim said, and he could picture Spock’s incredulous eyebrow. “Join me for a game of chess? I really think I’m going to win tonight.”
“You may try,” Spock said, and Jim laughed. Who said the Vulcan didn’t have a sense of humor? “The experiment can continue unobserved for the time being. I will meet you in your quarters?”
“No!” Jim didn’t want to know what was waiting for him there. “I mean, why don’t we play in your quarters. If that’s alright, of course,” he added. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“It would not be an imposition,” Spock said, and Jim was sure he was imagining the warmth in Spock voice. “It will be possible for me to leave the lab in 3.2 minutes.”
“I’ll meet you in ten, give or take,” Jim said, smirking, knowing the lack of accuracy annoyed his XO. Bones wasn’t the only one who made a sport out of Vulcan baiting.
Spock won the game, of course, and Jim found himself stalling afterward, and not just because he was avoiding his quarters. He enjoyed spending time with Spock, his dry sense of humor. And yes, he had to admit that he had a bit of a crush, but he still hoped that would go away in time.
But finally Spock got tired of him, if the raised eyebrow, accompanied by, “Captain, I believe you will require rest before your next shift” was anything to go on.
Jim sighed. “Suppose so. Thanks for putting up with me.”
“I find our chess games to be surprisingly illuminating,” Spock said, and Jim decided to take that as a compliment.
Jim realized he hadn’t even mentioned the valentines during their game; he’d even forgotten for a little while. And he wasn’t going to bring it up now. Instead, he said goodnight to Spock and left his quarters.
Jim was still worried about what he’d find in his quarters. If the person could get into his ready room and reprogram the replicator, he had no doubt they could get into his quarters. But other than another card on his desk (I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach), there wasn’t even any evidence someone else had been in his quarters.
Jim got ready for bed—checking the bed area and bathroom carefully first—and dimmed the lights. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day itself, and he expected his secret admirer to make his or her presence known. He fell asleep wondering what surprises they had in store for him.
He woke the next morning to the sound of a transporter, a sudden weight dropping onto the bed, and the depressingly familiar sensation of his throat closing up.
Jim came to to the comforting sounds and smells of sickbay. McCoy was standing over him, looking up at the biobed screen, so it took a moment before the other man noticed that he was awake. But when he did, Jim was greeted with the usual incredulous head-shake that meant he’d done something to baffle medical science. Again. “James Tiberius Kirk,” McCoy said, and Jim couldn’t help but flinch. “Only you would have an allergic reaction to roses on Valentine’s Day.”
“I just like to keep you on your toes,” Jim offered, his throat decidedly hoarse. His head was throbbing, too, which was probably related to the fact that he could feel every one of his sinus passages. “Ow, Bones,” he said in reply to the hypo he’d just been stuck with.
“That should clear up your head,” Bones said, handing Jim a glass of water. “And that’s for your throat. I’ll be back in an hour to check on you.” He turned, and Jim realized that Spock had been standing close by, watching intently. “He’s going to be fine,” McCoy said. “You can stop hovering now.”
“The action of ‘hovering’ is associated with the emotional state of concern. Vulcans do not hover,” Spock said, and Jim would have sworn he was blushing, ever so slightly. “I merely wished to ascertain the captain’s health status.”
“Which is why you’ve been standing there since he was brought in.”
Jim wasn’t surprised that Spock didn’t have an answer for that. “I will now return to the bridge,” he said instead.
“Oh, damn,” Jim said, remembering. “What about your experiment?”
“It will not suffer if watched by another member of the science department,” Spock said. “It is only logical that my duties as First Officer are of higher priority than my duties as a science officer.”
“Still, I know this was something you were looking forward to,” Jim said. “I should be back on duty soon, right?”
“Only if I’m certain you won’t stop breathing on me,” McCoy groused. “Jim, drink that water and lie back down, or so help me...”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jim said, downing the glass and handing it back to him. “Thanks for checking up on me, Spock.”
“Thanks are unnecessary,” Spock said as Jim shifted around to get comfortable, but Jim thought he spotted the slightest upturn to one corner of his mouth.
Jim turned his back to the door and closed his eyes. He could hear Bones grumbling to himself as he went into his office, and a few seconds later the hiss of the door as Spock left. He must have drifted off, because it seemed only seconds later when McCoy was shaking his shoulder to wake him up and give him another glass of water.
“Seems your secret admirer hasn’t let up,” Bones said, and Jim blinked blearily at him. “First they cover your bed with roses, and then they leave you chocolate.” He pointed to a red, heart-shaped box that was sitting on a stool next to the biobed. The was a card on top, of the now-familiar style.
“Did you see who left it?” Jim asked, picking up the card. The inside read Love is like quicksilver in the hand. Leave the fingers open and it stays. Clutch it, and it darts away, and there was another line underneath that, which simply read Sorry. Jim smiled slightly.
“No idea,” Bones said. “But I’d scan those candies first if I were you.” Jim sneered at him, but let him do it.
Bones let him out of the sickbay after another hour of observation, but wasn’t going to let him back on duty until the next day. This left Jim at loose ends. Normally, he’d go back to his quarters and read or catch up on paperwork. But he was a little worried what he might find there, and if yesterday had been anything to go by, he knew to expect other “gifts” throughout the day. So, the goal was to find somewhere his would-be Valentine wouldn’t expect. Jim knew the perfect place.
Jim stopped off at his quarters first—which had thankfully been cleared of roses—to drop off the chocolates and change from his pajamas into jeans and a t-shirt. He also grabbed his PADD, and then headed down the corridor...to Spock’s quarters.
Deciding that using his command override would be too easy, Jim decided to hack the lock. It only took a couple of minutes, and then he was in the hot, dim recesses of Spock’s quarters. He hadn’t realized that Spock actually turned the temperature down when Jim was there.
Despite the natural urge to snoop, Jim decided the least intrusive thing would be to sit at the table where they usually played chess. That way, he was only barely entering Spock’s space, and he would be seen immediately when Spock came in. He could apologize later.
He had gotten through most of his backlog by the time he heard the hiss of the door opening. He looked up just in time to see Spock’s shocked expression—a real expression!—even if it only lasted a second before Spock regained control. “Captain, may I inquire as to the purpose of your presence in my quarters?”
“I’m hiding,” Jim admitted, putting down his PADD. Spock stepped inside and the door slid shut behind him. “From whoever’s been sending me valentines. This would be the last place they’d look, I’m sure. I’m sorry if this was too much of an...invasion.”
“I would prefer a request in the future,” Spock said, but the slight tilt of his eyebrow told Jim he was amused. “However, it is my opinion this ‘secret admirer’ will not leave additional tokens in your quarters today.” He went over to the desk and seemed to stand there, uncertain.
“Oh?” Jim said, standing up. “Think I scared them this morning?”
“Indubitably,” Spock said. He opened a drawer in the desk and took out a small parcel. He looked at it for a long moment and then held it out to Jim.
Perplexed, Jim crossed the room to take it. It was small but heavy, wrapped in plain red paper. He turned it over, and was surprised to see one of the cards he’d become so familiar with. Are we not like two volumes of one book? it said inside, and Jim delayed looking at Spock by removing the card and opening the gift. It was a book, the antique paper kind, hardcover. It was a book of poetry, the love poems of Lord Byron.
“I had thought that this would still be appreciated,” Spock said, and Jim looked up at him. The other being’s expression was the blankest Jim had seen it in a long time.
“It was you?” Jim asked, still not quite able to wrap his head around the idea.
“I inquired of a number of crew members as to the proper rituals for this holiday,” Spock said. He definitely seemed nervous now. “I found some of the information to be contradictory. And I do not understand how a small, plush sehlat is related to a human holiday. Humans are a strange, overly emotional species, and I...”
He trailed off as Jim lifted his right hand, the first two fingers extended and the rest curled; he had been paying attention in those Comparative Species classes, no matter what it had looked like. “Yes, I will. Be your Valentine,” he added, when Spock didn’t react.
Spock’s eyes widened slightly, and he raised his hand. Jim felt a jolt up his arm when their fingertips touched, and he was surprised to hear himself moaning. He dropped the book onto the desk and lifted his left hand to pull Spock into a Human kiss, pleased when Spock met him halfway.
His last coherent thought was that maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad, after all.
Feedback is better than chocolate.
A/N: Quotes, in order: Lao Tzu, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Pablo Neruda, Albert Einstein, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Dorothy Parker, Marceline Desbordes-Valmore.