Author's Note: I've taken a few liberties here with TOS and the Abrams's movie. For the purposes of this story Spock was originally a Lieutenant Commander at the start of Jim's captaincy.
Commander Spock sat in the center seat of the bridge, attempting to focus his attention on the latest reports from his subordinates in Lab 6. The results of cross breeding a type of Draken wheat with the already genetically engineered quadrotriticale was undoubtedly fascinating, yet still Spock found his concentration lacking.
With the knowledge that he was the only one present on the bridge, Spock allowed himself to indulge in a small sigh. The rest of the crew was attending the ship wide Valentine's Day party, a social function that he and Jim had originally planned to attend. The party was to be their only recognition of the holiday, as his T'hy'la insisted on forgoing any other form of participation in a "commercialized excuse for pre-teens to suddenly proclaim their undying love for one another and then seal the deal with fuzzy bears and those goddamn candies that taste like rocks."
Spock had admittedly been startled by his mate's violent response to the festivities, as Jim had seemed to embrace any and all forms of celebration. However, as their romantic engagement was still relatively new – a mere seven months, six days, ten hours and fifty-two seconds – Spock decided not to press the issue. He promised his T'hy'la that he would not purchase him anything "mushy" and that their only deviation from their normal routine would be to attend the party. It was, after all, only logical to boost the crew's morale by having their command team make an appearance.
However, three hours ago Jim had begun showing symptoms of one of his frequent migraines. He had informed Spock that he would not be attending the party, had refused his offer of a massage, and had quite forcefully told him that he ought to go do something useful.
Spock was just human enough to admit to feeling lost.
He'd done as Jim suggested, monitoring the bridge on his own so that the few remaining crewmen could go join the party early, yet he was still dissatisfied with the situation. Spock did not need the excuse of a holiday to tell his T'hy'la that he loved him, yet at the same time he would not have been opposed to doing something special. At the very least he would have liked to help ease his mate's physical pain, yet he had nearly been thrown bodily from their quarters.
With another small sigh Spock returned his attention to the reports. This type of thinking was illogical. If Jim did not desire his presence at this time then kaidith. What is, is.
It was at that moment that his padd gave a soft chime, alerting him to a new message. Curious as to who would be contacting him, (and slightly worried that it might be Jim in need of assistance), Spock immediately opened the enclosed attachment. Instead of creating a new window however, the download began dismantling his padd's security in record time, and before he could even begin formulating a way to counter the attack, it was over.
Spock looked down at his previously logical padd in horror.
Where once there was a collection of reports, science articles, and the latest research on treating migraines, now his padd sported a pink background, accompanied by dancing red hearts, and with a single quotation continually scrolling across the screen:
In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing.
Spock had to read the quotation twice, but one he did he settled back into his chair, all previous anxiety forgotten. There were only two people on the ship capable of hacking his padd in such a manner, and he truly doubted that Ensign Chekov was sending him such unabashedly romantic messages.
However, the sender was also easily identified by his choice of phrase – namely, scientific and somewhat overly sentimental. At the start of their relationship Jim had attempted to gain his attention by voicing what he described as, "cheesy pick up lines." No doubt due to his interests and position on the ship, Jim had chosen only lines whose subjects centered around math and science. For weeks Spock had been forced to endure illogical statements such as "If I were an enzyme, I'd be DNA helicase so I could unzip your genes" and "How about me and you go back to my place and form a covalent bond?" Luckily the public declarations had tapered off after their third month dating, yet Jim still took great pleasure in voicing such sentiments in private.
It would seem that his T'hy'la had decided to 'get into the spirit of things,' after all. No doubt his human emotionalism was making him feel undue guilt at his treatment of both Spock and the holiday.
Feeling better already, Spock rose from the chair, unconsciously clutching the padd to his chest. He would go to the party and quickly find a replacement to monitor the bridge. Then, he would return to Jim. Perhaps, if his migraine had abated, the night could still be used for productive – if slightly more romantic – purposes.
With every intention of leaving the bridge and finding his T'hy'la, Spock launched himself from the center seat… and stopped dead at the sight of the view screen.
There, instead of the never-ending parade of stars he had grown accustomed to, he found another message scrolling across the large screen. Written in the same flowery pink and red writing as the one on his padd, it read:
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Just as he finished reading, the lights went out.
Plunged into total darkness, for a brief moment Spock panicked. His immediate thought was that they were under attack. Certainly, with all the unusual and unique things the Enterprise had seen, coming across an alien race that could shut down a ship's power source at will was hardly a stretch of the imagination.
… And yet, upon further inspection, this didn't seem to be the case. Slowly Spock circled the bridged, realizing now that he wasn't in complete darkness. The red light of the comm. links, the yellow of the weapon systems, the small green one above navigation that indicated a functioning autopilot sequence, everything around Spock seemed to be operating well within parameters. The only malfunction was the lights.
Still, Spock was nothing if not cautious. Heading back to the center seat he hailed engineering.
"Spock to engineering. Are you there, Mr. Scott?"
"Aye Mister Spock, what seems ta be the problem?" Scotty was probably the only one aboard the ship – other than himself and Jim – who was not inclined to join the festivities. It took much more than a party to tear him away from his engines, though Uhura had certainly been trying lately.
"Mr. Scott, there seems to be a malfunction with the bridge's lights."
"Aye…" The last few years of serving under Jim had taught Spock how to detect guilt in a person's voice, and Scotty's was overflowing with it. "I'm aware of the problem Mr. Spock." He said.
A single eyebrow crept its way up Spock's forehead. "Then will you perhaps be doing something about this… "malfunction"?"
He could practically hear their chief engineer squirming several decks below. "Uh… yes?"
"Was that a question or a statement Commander?"
"Well… ya see Mr. Spock…" For a moment the line wavered and then, faintly, Scotty's voice came again, overlapped by a great deal of static.
"Terrib—pshhhh—sorry Mr. Spo—pshhhh—we seem to be having a wee bit o—pshhh—ouble! I'll get—pshhh—on it! Don't ye be—pshhhh—orrying now!"
With one last blast of static the line went dead.
For a moment Spock did nothing but stare at the comm. link. Then, with great care, he turned his attention back to the view screen where the absurdly pink message was still flashing.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Anyone who had taken a Xenocultural course knew that Vulcans coveted the mind of their mates over every other feature. An aesthetically pleasing physical appearance was an un-necessary – though still an appreciated – characteristic. What better way to draw attention to this than to remove the temptation of sight all together? And what better way to do that than by turning out the lights – as his T'hy'la had done so often during their love making?
He was being toyed with.
He suspected Jim.
Ignoring both his padd and the view screen Spock stood up once more, this time fully intending to leave the bridge. And, if he ran across any more malfunctions, he now had a much better idea of whom to blame.
He didn't have to wait long.
No sooner had Spock entered the turbolift and called for deck 5 then the floor suddenly shifted. For one brief moment it felt as if Spock were being lifted up, higher and higher until he could faintly hear the coils of the lift straining…
And then the turbolift dropped, plunging him into free fall.
Spock felt his breath catch and his heart rate increase by 4.3%. However, by the time his analytical mind processed the fact that he was, indeed, in an uncontrolled decent, the lift was already slowing down. Gradually, he felt the speed of the lift decreasing, and by the time he reached his destination everything seemed be operating accordingly.
The lift deposited him on deck 5, as if nothing unusual had occurred.
And there was another note.
This one, unlike its electronic counterparts, was an actual note. Written on a finely crafted – and in their technologically advanced culture, exceedingly rare – paper, it sat innocently just outside the turbolift's sensor range.
Kneeling to pick it up, Spock unfolded the small square to read his T'hy'la's messy scrawl:
Now you have a better idea of what it felt like falling in love with you.
Knowing he was alone, Spock allowed himself the smallest of smiles. His mate was indeed a wise man. The lack of breath, the increased heart rate, the simultaneous feeling of falling fast and flying high, all of these things he experienced in Jim's presence. More than just in the literal sense, he could see how his brief adventure in the turbolift was representative of falling in love: exciting, unexpected, terrifying… but in the end it still left you wanting more.
This third experience finally provided enough data, allowing Spock to acknowledge that there was indeed a pattern. So as he walked the corridors of the Enterprise, Spock kept his eyes peeled for more notes.
His conclusions were rewarded. Rounding the corner of the hall where their quarters were located, Spock found a trail of small, foil-wrapped confections.
If he remembered correctly – and he most certainly did – they were a type of old style Earth chocolates distributed by the Hershey industry, illogically known as 'kisses.' Despite having gone out of style decades ago, they were still one of Jim's favorite foods. Like his books and pads of paper, they were relics of a simpler time that Jim took great joy in.
They were just one more addition to the list of 1,482 things Spock loved about his mate. A list that, he would like to add, was continually growing.
At the start of this long candy trail was a basket wrapped with a pink bow, and inside that basket Spock found his next note:
I will follow you wherever you may go, and all the while I'll kiss the ground you walk on.
For what was at least the fifth time that night, Spock gave thanks that the rest of the crew was attending the party. Even without a mirror Spock knew his face was turning a deep emerald green, blushing under both his T'hy'la's endearing declaration and the subtle implications of the candies themselves. The 'kisses' might be representative of Jim kissing the ground he walked on, but even so it did not escape Spock's notice that his mate had chosen a chocolate confection. Both of them knew exactly what chocolate did to a Vulcan's controls – especially those controls linked to sexual activity.
Firmly ignoring the heat radiating off his face and neck, Spock took up the basket and began collecting the kisses. Perhaps he and Jim would make use of them later.
The chocolate trail continued down the length of the hall, and by the time Spock reached their quarters his basket was filled. It was his own door he stopped at, the one that lead to their 'living room.' Ever since he and Jim had decided to move in together they had used the Captain's larger quarters for sleeping and work while Spock's became the area designated for reading and meditation.
Keying in his code, Spock entered his quarters and immediately noticed a great many changes to the room. Placing the basket of chocolates just inside the door, he allowed his eyes to roam in a circle, taking in the additions.
The first of these was the music coming through the comm. link, no doubt another technological gift from their chief engineer. Spock immediately recognized it as Chopin's 1st ballade, a piece that he was exceedingly fond of. Despite the elaborate, often rapid scales, it was a composition that never failed to relax him; something that Jim was well aware of. His knowledge and appreciation of Spock's preferences in music was indicated once again by a note on the table.
Love is a friendship set to music.
Feeling himself relaxing already Spock continued on, slipping the note in his pocket along with the others.
Next to the table with the comm. link sat Jim's reading chair, and draped over it was a beautiful new blanket. Dyed in deep reds and browns that reminded Spock of his home world, the blanket was fringed with what could only be Andorian wool, one of the softest and warmest materials known to the Federation. His note read:
Love is an electric blanket with somebody else in control of the switch.
Spock exhaled a breath that just may have been a laugh. Trust his T'hy'la to downplay his most expensive gift with a bit of humor. At least he hoped this was Jim's most expensive gift. He was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed.
After all, it was clear to him now that Jim's actions these last few weeks had all been a ruse. The late nights speaking with Scotty, his seemingly violent hatred of the holiday, even the 'migraine' his mate claimed to be getting… everything made sense in the context of Jim wanting to surprise him. The sheer planning that must have gone into this hunt – let alone the thoughtfulness of the gifts themselves – was humbling to say the least.
Running his hand over the silky blanket, Spock made a vow to return Jim's kindness with interest. After all, Jim wasn't the only one capable of spoiling his T'hy'la.
With his mind made up Spock continued around the room. The next note he came across was propped against what appeared to be a bottle of Jim's epinephrine. Ever since his mate had discovered a newly formed allergy to eggs while eating breakfast in their quarters, they'd kept a bottle and a hypo of his medication in each room, including the bathroom. It had simply taken too long for Doctor McCoy to arrive last time for Spock's comfort.
However, upon closer inspection he found that the bottle did not contain epinephrine. Instead, Jim's medication had been replaced with sookon, a candy similar in appearance to gum drops. Humans generally found them to be too bitter, but they were quite pleasing to the Vulcan palate.
Absently pulling one from the bottle and popping it into his mouth, Spock opened the note.
There is no remedy for love but to love more.
Spock felt both his eyebrows shoot up. Perhaps this was true, but sookon was certainly not a remedy for anaphylactic shock. Once this game between him and his T'hy'la was over, Spock would be questioning Jim on just what he did with his epinephrine. Despite the fact that it had all too often saved his life, Jim wasn't overly fond of the drug and he had a tendency to… 'lose' those things that he wasn't fond of.
If Jim had been stupid enough to dispose of it, no amount of gifts would spare him.
Putting such dark thoughts from his mind, Spock continued on. The only thing left out of place in his quarters was by the door leading to the bathroom. There, instead of a material gift, Spock found something that was no less memorable. Lying neatly on the floor was one of his own shirts, the expected note placed just beside it. Jim had folded the garment in such a manner as to have the sleeves presented on top, enunciating the double gold braids. The mark of a full Commander.
Spock had an idea of what his T'hy'la was getting at, but just to be sure he quickly scanned the note.
Love is a better teacher than duty.
Yes, Spock knew well what his mate was commemorating. Jim was his lover, always, but he was also his Captain, and it had been Spock's Captain that had taught him the difference between running a starship out of duty and running one out of loyalty. It had taken a long time, but Spock eventually learned that the people aboard this ship, not the regulations and rules that they followed, were what was important. Duty could only take you so far. A commanding officer must also know his subordinates on a personal level, viewing them as people, not just cogs in a machine.
Jim had taught him that. And the resulting change in Spock's command style had encouraged Starfleet to finally promote him to full Commander. Oh, he'd had the power of the position for years – he was after all both First Officer and Chief Science Officer – but Jim's teaching had allowed him to obtain the recognition he deserved.
It was just one more thing for which Spock was exceedingly grateful.
Heart feeling full – much too full for anything more – Spock proceeded into the bathroom.
He first noticed just how hot it was and quickly pinpointed the source as the shower. Jim had turned the controls to 'water,' something they rarely did, and the result in the small room was quite a bit steam. Eyes drawn to the mirror above the sinks, Spock saw why Jim had created a mini sauna.
His mate had used the steam as a tool for creativity – something that Spock's logical mind would have never thought of. There, drawn on the mirror in the condensation were stick figures of each of the command staff. Jim certainly wasn't the greatest artist, by the Federation's standards he wasn't even good, but each figure was still easily recognizable. Stick-figure Scotty clutched what looked like a giant wrench, Bones had his ever-present hypo, Sulu wielded a giant sword, Uhura had vast quantities of hair, and Chekov was recognizable only by the word "RUSSIA!" written above his head. And in the middle of it all were two stick figures that were identical, except that one had obviously rounded ears and the other's ended in exaggerated points. These two stick figures were holding hands and the artist had drawn a large heart around them both.
Picking up the note in the sink, Spock read:
Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly!
How very true.
Moving to turn off the shower, Spock found another note that he had missed. Tapped to the shower's curtain it read:
I'll shower you with flowers!
For a moment Spock only looked at the curtain, hearing the gentle thrumming of water behind it. Finally, with what was definitely a sigh this time, he pulled the curtain back.
There, covering the entire floor of the shower was an assortment of flora. Some, such as the roses, were obviously traditional, meant only for their aesthetic appeal. Others however had practical purposes. Spock noticed that many of the plants were edible, the types of which a certain Vulcan might enjoy in his salads.
Turning off the water, Spock noted that his eyes felt a bit misty.
He blamed it on the residual steam in the room.
Finally, Spock turned towards the door that would lead to Jim's quarters. Tapped there was one more note, this one creased in half to hide the message. Carefully unfolding it, Spock wondered what in the world his T'hy'la had left to give.
Love is, above all, the gift of oneself.
Of course.
Refusing to wait a moment longer Spock tripped the sensor, rushing into their shared bedroom. Sure enough, there on the bed lay Jim, already naked.
He propped his head on his hand, throwing Spock a cheeky grin. "About time you got here Mister!" he said.
Spock pounced.
One minute Jim was lying spread on the sheets, the next he was tucked fully under his Vulcan's chin. Spock wrapped his arms around the lean body, burying himself in Jim's shoulder.
"Woah…" slowly Jim brought his hands up to rub his mate's back. "You okay?"
"I am more than 'okay' T'hy'la. I am simply… overwhelmed."
"Ah." Jim said. "That's fine then."
For a long moment they just sat there, content to hold one another. Finally Spock shifted slightly, huffing a bit against Jim's neck.
"I assume," he said "that you do not in fact despise Valentine's Day?"
The trademark grin was back in a flash. "Nope!"
"And," Spock continued "am I to assume that Mr. Scott had something to do with the different electronic 'malfunctions'? Such as the lights and the turbolift?"
If it were possible Jim's smile seemed to grow. "Yeah, Scotty was a great help. He was real excited when I mentioned doing the controlled "free fall" in the lift. Apparently he's been wanting to try that for ages!"
"T'hy'la…" Spock stroked the side of his mate's face, calming him. "Those experiences, the candies, the blanket, the flowers… all of it is too much…"
Jim's face became serious. "Nonsense. Only the best for my Vulcan after all."
That was something Spock simply couldn't argue with because after all, he would do all the same and more for his human. Feeling so much better than he had an hour before Spock stretched Jim out underneath him, fully intending to show him just how much his efforts were appreciated.
Many, many hours later the two of them lay cuddled together under the covers.
"Happy Valentine's Day Spock." Jim's voice wasn't more than a whisper. He was nearly asleep.
"Happy Valentine's Day T'hy'la." Spock continued running his hand up and down his mate's spine, enjoying the cool feel of his skin and lulling him to sleep.
Jim had just closed his eyes and was ready and willing to greet the Sandman when he heard:
"T'hy'la… what exactly did you do with your allergy medication?"
The ship's rumor mill went wild, wondering why their Captain spent the day after Valentine's Day hiding from his lover.
Quotations used in this story:
"In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing." -Mignon McLaughlin
"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind." - William Shakespeare
"Love is a friendship set to music." - E. Joseph Cossman
"Love is an electric blanket with somebody else in control of the switch." - Cathy Carlyle
"There is no remedy for love but to love more." - Henry David Thoreau
"Love is a better teacher than duty." - Albert Einstein
"Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly." - Rose Franken
"Love is, above all, the gift of oneself." - Jean Anouilh