Part One: James T. Kirk

This, I thought to myself as I almost tripped down a hallway of my precious ship, fucking sucks. The gravity simulators were only working for short bursts, so at any moment down could become right and left could become up. The whole ship was stuttering in and out of power, and it was a miracle that we all weren't dead yet. But, I suppose, the universe still has evil plans for James T. Kirk. Scotty grabbed me just as the gravity went wonky again, and I don't know how he knew that I was going to fall down that hallway, but he did, and he caught me. Thanks Scotty.

"Captain, it's only a bit more to engineering!" The poor man yelled. Scotty, If I could breathe, I'd yell thank you. Scotty and I were sprinting on the walls of my ship, doing our damnedest to get to engineering to somehow fix it. Running along the decks was extremely disorienting- it was like something out of that old Earth story Alice in Wonderland, everything upside down and backwards. I winced and groaned as my chest tried to fly away. Fuck running, honestly. It can fuck right off to the eighth circle of hell with hangnails and alarm clocks. Why I bought a bra that wasn't meant for running I don't know, but after today I'm tossing it out the airlock. I end up doing a lot of running now that I have a desk job. Isn't that great. Believe me, it's just spectacular.

It took us only one or more two minutes to get to engineering, but when your ship is plummeting to Earth at well over 700 miles per hour, seconds cost lives. My lungs were burning. Burning a whole lot. It felt like I was breathing in hot coals, but I didn't dare slow my sprint. We leaped over another hallway, and I yelled as someone plummeted down. I couldn't stop to help, I couldn't help, really. The only way to save lives was to get the warp core back online so that we could slow our fall. Khan can go fuck himself with his super dick, he was hurting my family, my ship.

Gravity mercifully cranked on and then stayed there, mostly, so getting into engineering was a lot easier. We kept running to the warp chamber.

"The radiation would kill us, Captain! We can't make the climb!" Scotty was telling me. "We'd die before we even got to the chamber, and what good'd that do us?"

He was going to hold this over me for a long time after this. "You're right Scotty."

"Captain, we can't- wait, what?" He sounded shocked that I had agreed with him. I glanced back at his face and almost smiled at the gobsmacked look on his face.

"I said you're right." I turned to him, taking a deep breath and clenching my fist. "We're not making the climb." I knocked him out before he even had a chance to look too shocked that I was throwing a punch. I picked him up, grunting, and slumped him into his chair. "Jesus christ, you need to lay off the moonshine." I started for the door, then doubled back and clicked the button for his seatbelt. "Godspeed." And into the sealed room I went.

It burned. The radiation was burning me. Every cell in my body was screaming in agony, every touch felt like a white hot iron pressing into my skin, every movement felt like I was crawling through flames. It hurt, oh god it hurt- but I had to go on. I couldn't stop; if the crash didn't kill everyone, Khan would if I didn't get the warp engines online. I shrieked when the gravity went wonky again, slamming me into the wall.

I figured I must have hit my head something, because suddenly, I wasn't in the cramped tunnel to the warp chamber anymore. I wasn't even on the Enterprise anymore. I was in a club, a glass of bourbon in my hand, quietly observing some Starfleet cadets get drunk and start fights.

Cigarette smoke was thick in the air, covering everything in a haze that could be cut with a knife. A small platter of peanuts was by my elbow, and every now and then I'd pop one in my mouth for something to chew on. The bar was dark, but red-tinted light shone on some of the booths and the dance floor. The music was loud, almost too loud, but because it was a club, nobody cared if their eardrums ruptured, so it was just right. The floor was polished oak, slightly scuffed from the many shoes and heels that had slipped and slid on the spilled drinks. The walls were dark, the seats red leather, the crowd relatively good, but always up for a good fight. The only thing that was majorly different about this club from any other club down the district, was that it catered to the extremely rowdy and energetic Starfleet cadets whenever they had a break from the academy. It was like spring break on steroids.

Nearly every other bar and club in the small town just outside of the academy had banned them. They started fights like it was the last day of their lives, like it was the only thing they were capable of doing. Which was why I was keeping an eye on them; I was great friends with the owner of the establishment, Erica. So I had made her a deal. I'd provide my bouncer services for her in exchange of one drink a night. Most of the time I had one of the local seasonal beers, hard cider, IPA, whatever, but on rowdy nights Erica would give me a scotch or bourbon with a cool ice cube to sip menacingly. It worked out. All the money she saved from the property damage that I was controlling more than made up for a glass of bourbon, she insisted, so yippee for me. Hell yeah I'd like a bourbon.

I was watching a couple of beefy Starfleet cadets that were being particularly rowdy. The red uniforms they were wearing were disheveled and slightly stained, making a mockery of what Starfleet cadets should have been. They were all bigger than me, and had probably chosen to be security officers for their career in Starfleet. The point being that they knew how to fight. Fight, and fight well. They were arguing loudly, yelling about who could pick up a girl the fastest, who had the best pickup lines, and who could bang a girl the longest. Bunch of heartbreakers, the lot of them. They were attractive enough to lure a girl in, but hearing them talk about their habits was making me see red. But I wouldn't dare get up from my very comfy bar stool until a someone threw a punch or grabbed a girl. I liked this bar, and I didn't want Erica to have to ban me.

I watched the biggest one meander off to the dance floor, the rest following his lead a few seconds later. They singled out this one girl, Amanda. She was a regular here and a great kid. Never drank, just a diet coke and a great time was all she wanted every Friday. They started hounding her for a good time, reaching out to try and grab her. It progressed to the point where I slammed my drink on the counter, got up, and stalked over to them, a murderous glare on my face. The regulars saw me coming from a mile away, and quickly vacated the floor, choosing instead to either go grab a drink, eat something, go home, or sit down for a bit. Some of the other cadets noticed, and followed after the crowd confusedly. The designated drivers all spun around to watch, and a few bets were made. Soon it was only the more oblivious people on the floor and my targets. The regulars knew that the club wasn't the place to start fights; they knew from experience that I would put the fear of god into whoever started one. The cadets, who were only here a few times a year, didn't know that.

Amanda had started struggling, and the security-trainees didn't like that very much. Amanda turned towards me, and let out a sigh of relief when she caught my eye."James! Thank goodness you're here! They're scaring me." She sounded even more scared than she looked, but at the same time relieved that I was here. The goons looked around stupidly for a dude named James, not realizing that I was, in fact, he. She. Whatever. Sometimes I was grateful for my male name, though, it really helped on getting close and picking fights. Amanda squeezed out of the group of apes while they were distracted, ran up to me and gave me a hug, silver cross dangling at her neck. "James, they scared me... don't let them take me, please." She was crying, big fat tears slipping down her cheeks. I put my arm around her protectively.

"It'll be okay, Amanda." I said, my eyes not leaving the idiots. The DJ shut off the music. "I'll make sure of it."

A quick fight, several won bets, and a split lip later, I grabbed the three of them by the backs of their collars and shoved them out into the street. I dusted off my hands and swiped at the blood on my face as they groaned in a pile of stupidity.

"What in the name of the Enterprise is going on here?!" An older fellow broke in, wearing an admiral's crisp white and gray uniform.

"Do you want the short answer or the long one?" I wiped the new blood from my lip, swiping my hand on my jeans.

"An answer!" He said, still slightly shocked at seeing three Starfleet cadets moaning in the street.

"Short answer: their IQ is lower than your average ameba. Long answer: they were ganging up on a girl half their size. If I hadn't broken in when I did, I would not be surprised if I was taking a rape victim to the hospital in the morning. Admiral, control your cadets." I flipped my hair, cocked a hip, and stalked back to the bar, where the clubbing resumed.

No one was allowed to hurt my friends.

I was at the end of the tunnel. ...What? I looked back and saw bloody handprints along the metal grating, all the way back to where I had zoned out. I had no idea how much time had passed. I glanced at my hands and realized that the grating was getting hot. Very hot, it had left ugly blisters on my hands. I shook it off and continued on, the door to the warp chamber in my sights. I didn't know why I had zoned out, but Amanda had somehow secured a spot in the science program at Starfleet. She had died while helping people during Nero's massacre of Starfleet ships. The club was still there, and my deal with Erica was still active, although she did get a big assistant to do my job while I wasn't there. Real nice guy, in a biker gang, liked to talk about gardening. He was cool. Not as cool as me, but pretty close.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead, letting out a shaky breath as I continued down the last few yards to the warp chamber.

I was thirteen years old. Running through the wheat fields on our farm barefoot, trying to get to the one spot my step dad, Frank, wouldn't be able to follow. I had done something in his eyes that had warranted a beating- he was drunk and mom was off-planet. There was no one to protect me this time.

I leapt over a wooden fence; just on the other side was thick woods, where he would have difficulty following because of his beer belly. I landed hard on the balls of my feet on the other side. I felt the pop more than heard it, and the sound was like knuckles cracking. My leg shifted an inch, but my foot didn't move. It hurt about as much as you'd expect it to. I was scared to look at my foot, but I would have to if I wanted to get away. I hesitantly looked at my it, and whimpered when I saw the angle that it was bent. It was dislocated. I wouldn't be able to run anymore. Shit on a shingle this was bad.

Then I heard Frank stumbling through the bushes near the fence. I looked at my ankle again, steeled my nerves, and got up. It once again hurt like you would expect it to, like I was trying to run on a bleeding stump instead of a foot. Needless to say, I almost passed out- but I stumbled on. I tried to put as little weight as possible on it, if at all, hopping on my other foot for as long as I could, but as the shadows grew longer, I was seeing more and more stars. Not the pretty ones in the sky, either, but the ones that danced across your vision like malicious pixies that threatened to make you fall asleep and get killed by your raging stepfather.

It was then that I saw it. The small cabin, way out in the woods that was my secret place to go and hide. It wasn't perfect by any means, in actuality it was falling apart. It had a huge hole in the roof, the roof tiles were covered in moss, the windows were missing, the wood was rotting, and I was positive that a good strong wind would blow it over. I was pretty sure that the only reason it hadn't collapsed yet was because of the ivy holding it together by the skin of their teeth. Roots. Whatever. I stumbled into the gaping hole where the door used to be, and practically fell onto the small bed of old pillows and soft blankets I had gathered there across the years. My ankle had turned a nasty shade of dark purple, and it throbbed painfully in time with my heartbeat. I didn't know how to fix it, and I had the brief thought that I could die here. I couldn't go back, and I couldn't stay. This cabin was a death trap, I couldn't walk, and Frank would hurt me if I went back.

I stared at the stars through the hole in the roof, and wished that I could fly.

My hands were on the door. I didn't even bother to ponder the last vision, because I knew, I felt in my very bones that we were getting dangerously close to Earth. I opened it as fast as I could and rushed into the chamber.

The metallic pile of cables, wires, machines, and panels was ominous, and the place I needed to go was right at the top. Where there should have been a smooth flow of clean energy, there stood only a lopsided and disconnected pillar. If I were as strong as Spock I might have been able to just shove it back into place, but since I was human, weak, dying, and a girl with wide hips and weaker muscles I might not be able to. I shook my head as the ship lurched.

One problem at a time. Up the junk pile.

"Mommy, why is my name James?" A four year old me asked my tired mother after a long day at work. Mom looked at me and smiled sadly, her eyes distant.

"Well, the doctor who was helping me on the day you were born didn't speak English very well. He mixed up 'boy' and 'girl', so he told me you were a boy when you were in fact a very pretty young lady." My mother giggled and pinched my cheeks. I pouted and shook my head to make her let go. Honey blonde curls bounced around my chin, and a blue ribbon with silver stars on it fell to the floor.

Mommy picked up the ribbon and spun me around to tie my hair up again.

"So... you named me James?"

"Well, your Daddy told me that he wanted to name you James. After my Dad, your grandpa. So when he died, I... I wanted to name you James too. James isn't a bad name. It's a good, strong name. Your Daddy was a hero, Jamie. So when Starfleet told me that he wasn't coming home..." Her eyes looked sparkly for some reason. I realized they were tears. "When they told me that he wasn't coming home, I kept your name James; I named you after a hero."

Little four-year-old me frowned. "Mommy, I want to be a hero. Just like Daddy."

I was halfway up the warp command grid, which was a little over a quarter of the way up the pile. I blinked. What the shit…? I shook my head and reached up to grab a thick cable so I could haul myself up further. The metal was hot, and all I wanted to do was let go of it, lie down, and fall asleep. Sweat was dripping into my eyes, and my hair was sticking to my forehead. At least the elastic hadn't broken with all the action today. Why was I climbing again? Why couldn't I lie down? I was really tired…

No! No, I have to save the ship! I have to-… I have to… save everybody…

I knew that entering a new code in the Kobayashi Maru test was bound to get me torn a new one, but I just couldn't leave it well enough alone now, could I? No, not Jim Kirk, obnoxious cadet extraordinaire. It was designed to be undefeated, a huge expectation placed upon new cadets. Well we'll just have to see now, huh?

The Kobayashi Maru. The test that no one has ever passed. Until today, if you're lucky.

To be fair, all that I did was enter three possible ways that someone could win. The fact that a Vulcan designed the test only helped me in this instance, he knew it would be perfect. No need to check the codes until it started malfunctioning, like all tests did. I knew it was only a matter of time until the insufferable instructor checked over the base codes for the program and noticed my three strings of numbers. But until then, there were three ways for someone to win. Only three ways to win in a seemingly limitless number of ways to lose. Still pretty unfair, and I and made sure that winning was almost impossibly difficult- even for me; but it was still there.

If you don't like the game, change the rules.

There is always a way to win.

I was at the top. I tried shoving the pillar back into place, but after a few tries I had to try it at a different angle. I hung onto a bar that was conveniently right where I needed it to be- if perhaps a bit higher. My hands were slick with blood and busted blisters, but adrenaline took away the pain. Bones is going to lynch me for this.

I put all my years of fighting, gymnastics, and momentum into slamming my feet into the pillar. It groaned, but didn't move. I slammed my feet into it again and again, each time getting more desperate until I was yelling.

"WHY THE HELL WON'T YOU MOVE, GODDAMN IT?!" I slammed my feet into it again, and it groaned. "FUCK YOU!"

It didn't shift.

I started to cry. Spock, I thought brokenly, I'm sorry, I couldn't do it... I'm so sorry.

It was the day after the incident with Nero was done, Bones had let me slip away to lick my wounds in peace, and everyone else was celebrating in a bar back in San Francisco. I didn't really want to celebrate just yet. Yeah, I was glad this whole thing was over and done with, but I just wanted some time alone to think about all of my classmates that had died in the first battle with Nero.

It seemed like everyone else had forgotten about them.

Not me.

Amanda was on one of the Miranda-class ships. The USS Angora. Hers was the first to arrive, and the first to fall. I mourned the bright young girl whom I had saved from those stupid cadets just a few short years ago. I had a bottle of Vodka in my hand, still sealed. I didn't want to start drinking yet, but the bottle was certainly calling my name at this point. I wondered how Spock must feel- his entire planet, along with most of his species gone. If I was this bad over a considerably small number of people in comparison, he must have felt as if he carried the weight of over a thousand suns on his shoulders.

I sniffed, scrubbing my eyes with the sleeve of my new Command-Gold colored, Starfleet-issue captain's shirt. Stupid thing wasn't even comfy, it was itchy as all hell. What a joke. I sat down on a rock on the bank of the stream I had found out in the redwood trees. The water was perfectly clear, and it sparkled in the moonlight. A random piece of trivia popped into my head.

I think 'vodka' means 'water' in Russian. I thought to myself dryly. Boy, do they know how to party. I quickly unsealed the bottle, and was about to take a swig when I heard someone coming from the trail I had taken to get here. I froze, not wanting to talk to anybody.

"Captain?" I heard a familiar deep voice say.

"Spock?" I let out a breath, shocked. And a little bit relieved. He'll never know. "What are you doing way out here? It's cold- you'll freeze!" My voice gave no hint as to the heavy heart I had been sporting a few seconds earlier. I put on my normal face for his benefit. I knew that even with his prized Vulcan control, he was still feeling the shock and grief of losing his mother. Not even that could cover up emotions that strong.

"I do find myself desiring warmer temperatures at the moment, thank you for your concern." Which was Spock for 'I'm fine.'

"Well... if you get too uncomfortable, let me know." He raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at me, looking incredulous from the corner of his eye.

He stood in silence for a few minutes, before finally saying something. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

A crease formed between my eyebrows at the odd request, but nodded my head, saying- "Sure," absently. The incredibly tall and rather cute Vulcan gracefully settled next to me on the mossy rock I had perched on, and sighed so softly that I almost didn't hear, but I knew my friend better than he thought. I knew better than to say anything, though- it was better for him to come out with it on his own, so I wordlessly offered him the vodka. He stared at it for a few seconds, but took it anyways.

I stared out at the water. The shattered reflection of the moon stared back at me, and it seemed to look into my soul.

"James."

"Hmm?" I looked up. He handed the bottle back to me, a decent amount of the strong liquid gone. "Oh, thanks." I took a swallow, and handed it continued, and the tips of my fingers were starting to feel warm when he finally broke. I could hold my liquor about as well as a Vulcan, practice and all that, so I was only as buzzed as he was. He didn't really break, per say, but the vodka did it's job well, and let the words flow easier. It started the conversation.

"What are you doing all the way out here while the rest of the crew is celebrating?"

I closed my eyes. "Personal reasons." I huffed a laugh. "They're a bunch of Howling Commandos, aren't they?" My voice kind of sputtered off, and I know he noticed. He was a dunce, but he wasn't a dummy. I found myself wanting to tell him why I was here. Why I was the way I was, why I had been such a jerk to him- although I didn't really know that one myself. Smooth, Jim. Smooth. Like Crunchy peanut butter.

"That is not sufficient information."

"You're right," I paused, more vodka slipping down my throat, eyes still closed. "I'm mourning." I opened them to gaze back at his slightly shocked expression.

"What is there for you to mourn?" He asked me, a touch of confusion coloring his voice. Oi. Twerp.

"A good friend of mine, a sister, really, was on the USS Angora. It was the first ship to be destroyed by Nero. I'm also mourning the souls of all of my other classmates that died that day." I swallowed. "I mourn those lost on the Enterprise due to my stupidity." I chuckled dryly. "Thousands of people total, and only one bottle of vodka. I know you must feel worse though."

"Those deaths were not your fault, James-"

"Call me Jim. James is my father."

He paused. "...Jim, those deaths are not on your hands. Nero was the one who killed them, not you." His chocolate brown eyes looked black as pitch in the low light. "I do not see why you are blaming yourself; there is almost nothing that you could have done to save more lives. You are a hero."

I gave him a small smile, still looking into his eyes. "Then why do you blame yourself for your planet's destruction?" Let the world know that I, James Tiberius Kirk, have the ability to make a Vulcan look like a kitten doused in ice water. A shocked, scared, and soaking wet kitten. "There's nothing more you could have done. And believe me, I'm pretty sure I've thought of every single way you could have saved them, but none of them could have prevented great loss." I paused. "At least you saved your history. You saved everyone that you possibly could. And sometimes, that's the best you can do..."

THUMP.

I remembered that day. It was the day I started to fall in love with him.

THUMP.

That prat, he was so oblivious…

"OW!" I yelled. "BONES! That hurts!"

"Well, you shouldn't have gotten into yet another bar fight!" He snapped right back at me as he dabbed a cut on my temple with disinfectant. "I'm getting tired of picking glass out of your fists!"

"Ah, jeez! Bones! That stings! You used the sting stuff!" I was sitting on an uncomfortable chair in the middle of Med Bay, and Bones was now picking up tweezers to get some random shard of glass in the cut. "And I didn't start it! I never do! I just break up fights and it gets violent. And it wasn't a bar fight!" I held up a defiant finger. I ignored my skinned knuckles.

He scoffed. "Yeah. Right."

"Captain?" Spock walked in. "You are needed on the Bridge." His eyebrows rose when he saw McCoy picking glass out of my head. "What, pray tell, happened this time?" He sounded slightly resigned.

"A girl was about to get raped! What was I supposed to do, pull out the popcorn and watch!? No! That's not who I am!" I defended myself. "And if Starfleet can't handle that, well they're just gonna have to fuckin deal with it." I was silent from then on.

Spock surprised me with what he said next. "It is... a justified reason. I am sure that the woman you saved is grateful for your actions."

"...She wasn't a woman." I glared at the floor. "When I say girl, I mean a girl."

McCoy dropped his tweezers. They landed in my lap and slid to the floor with a clatter. Spock my first officer looked shocked. It was hard to tell, but if you knew him you would be able to see the subtle widening of his eyes.

"...How old?"

I looked at my two friends from under my lashes, but couldn't hold their gaze. Looking down, I continued. "She looked about seven." They were silent.

Bones stared at me for a few seconds, before sighing, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "A little girl will grow up, her innocence still intact because Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise put the fear of god into- how many?"

"Four," I said gruffly.

"-four guys. She'll grow up knowing that she's worth it. How many kids look up to you now? How many kids will want to grow up to be just like you? Damn it Jim, you just can't stop being a hero, can you?" He shook his head, a smirk-like grin on his face.

"Nope," I replied, popping the 'p'. "As long as there's a kid holding in their cries somewhere, I'll be there. Kids shouldn't cry, they've got their entire childhood to be happy. If I have to live forever- I'll do it. I'd do almost anything to make them stop crying. They deserve better."

"I believe you are right, Jim. No child deserves what almost happened." My first officer agreed. "What was her name?"

"You're not gonna like it Bones, but her name was Joanna." I heard something break. "-Moving on- why am I needed on the bridge? What's going down?"

"We have a new mission. You are needed on the bridge for a briefing." The Vulcan informed me.

"Alright. Bones, are we done?" I looked up to him.

"Just about," he grumbled. Just one more moment- there we go." He slapped a bandage on my forehead.

"OW!"

THUMP.

I never did see Joanna again…

THUMP-skritch... The pillar made a strange noise.

"Hey Spock," I walked up to him on our way off the Enterprise for shore leave. "Is there anything you want to do over vacation?" I grinned a sunshiney smile.

He looked over to me, and smiled in a way that only Spock could. Which was- not very well, not immediately evident, and not really a smile except by Vulcan standards. "Hello, Jim. I had planned to visit the national library, there are several texts that I would like to study." He paused. "Would you like to join me?"

My eyes widened. "I would love to! Do you have a ride?" I jumped in happiness, before grimacing. "Youch!" I whispered. "Spock, be glad you're not a girl- boobs hurt."

All I got was a raised eyebrow. "I do not have a current mode of transportation, but I am sure I will be able to find a shuttle for us to take." His face was more relaxed than it normally was, which was Spock for 'I'm glad you're coming with me.'

"Oh you don't have to catch a shuttle, that a waste of credits. I can give you a ride." I offered. "It'll be quicker, I'll have more fun- I don't know about you, but I think you'll enjoy it, and I need to start that old thing up anyways. What do you say?" I looked into his eyes hopefully.

He tilted his head a little to the right. "What vehicle do you have?"

I smiled.

"When you said 'a sweet ride' as a response to my inquiry, I had made the assumption based on your behavioral patterns that you were speaking of a car. Possibly antique," He spoke flatly, staring at the things I had just given him."Not… this. Although true to your pattern of being extremely difficult to predict, I should have known."

"Oh quiet, you. Put on your helmet and my jacket, you'll freeze otherwise." I replied, mounting my bike. "I know that Vulcan is much warmer than Earth, and you yourself are particularly adverse to cold temperatures. Put on the jacket, and let me know if you get too cold." It was winter in San Francisco, and I knew that the Vulcan's core body temperature was several degrees cooler than my own. When you live on a desert planet, you have no need for a higher body temperature. Hey… cuddling might be pretty awesome actually… I shook that thought out of my head and tried not to blush.

"Jim, are you positive that this is safe?" Spock intoned from behind the bike. He sounded a little nervous.

"Yes. I wouldn't have offered if anything were wrong. Get on, Spock, I won't let us crash." I smirked at him from under my visor, and started chuckling at how out of character he looked in the faded black leather jacket and shiny black helmet.

"I do not see the reason you are laughing, Jim." His cheeks were tinged green.

I laughed harder. He looked at his shoes."No! No! You look great! It's just strange to see you out of uniform, and it looks good on you! I was just surprised, Spock, there's no need to feel self conscious." I quickly consoled him. "Now get on, we're losing daylight." Spock looked at the bike apprehensively, but got on behind me. "Do you think you'll need gloves? I have some, they're in the inside pocket of my jacket."

He pulled them on, a silent thank you in the air. He put his arms around me as I started the bike, and as I pushed us off, the heavy motorcycle teetering for a second before stabilizing, I felt like Spock almost broke my ribs with how tightly he squeezed."Whoa Spock, off the boobs, I only have two of 'em." I squeaked before we really started going. I took an exaggerated breath once he loosened his Vulcan Death Grip.

"I apologize." He mumbled into my back.

I smiled, not that he could see it. "It's alright."

It took us only about forty minutes to reach the library at the speed I was going. Once we got there, I cruised around the parking building, looking for a good spot. The national library in Sacramento, California was the biggest library in the world. So big, it didn't really have a name. It was basically the library that was the "That one there, the big one" of people trying to give directions everywhere. Even in other countries. Hooray for a big building with books!

I saw a spot right next to the elevators, and quickly nabbed it before anyone else could. I had powered down the bike and started to take off my helmet, when I realized that Spock hadn't moved.

"Spock? You okay, buddy?" I twisted around to look at his face. He was very pale and shaking slightly. "Spock!" I cried out in alarm. "Why didn't you tell me you were freezing?!" I quickly put down the bike rest, wiggled out of his grip, and got off the bike to face him.

He was moving very slowly, and he seemed stiff. I grabbed his still-gloved hands and took off the leather gloves as fast as I dared. His hands were about as cold as ice, which was very bad. I didn't bother about the Vulcan touch-telepathy when I rubbed his fingers, hoping that the friction would warm them. It was too cold to worry about him reading how worried I was about him. When it didn't warm him as fast as I needed it to, I sandwiched his hands under my arms.

"…I did not wish to worry you." He spoke softly. "You had already given me your only jacket, as well as your gloves. I was aware that even with your higher body temperature, the air is still considered frigid here."

I frowned. "Is that Spock for 'I didn't want to be a bother'?" I raised an expectant eyebrow at him. He shifted on the bike. "And Spock it's fifty degrees and misty, not ten below and snowing, I will be perfectly fine."

"I believe that is an adequate translation into 'Jim'," he conceded. "Jim? My hands are... warm." There was a green tinge on his cheeks.

"Hmm?" I looked down, and realized that with the way I was pressing his hands to my body, his palms were pressing into my chest. "Ooh, so scandalous." I let him go, and he flexed his fingers a few times. "You okay now?" I asked him.

"Yes. Thank you." His cheeks were still green.

I pressed my lips together in a sly smile. "You need a hug, too?" I waggled my eyebrows. "Because I can give you a nice one…" I continued to talk at him as I secured the bike, stored the helmets, and walked to the library.

We had a great time enjoying each other's company in the library, with nothing but silence and a few choice books to mark the passage of time. Spock picked up a textbook or three for a paper he would work on during the three week leave, I picked up some odds and ends for the quiet times in the temporary apartment I was entitled to as a captain. The shirt was itchy but everything else was cool.

Spock did not object when I handed him my sweatshirt for him to wear under the jacket. I think it was mostly due to the glare I leveled at him when he looked unsure. I gladly suffered cold and stiff fingers for him. Because he was my friend.

And if it meant saving him, even from cold weather, I would tear the world apart.

The twerp kept my sweatshirt.

I realized that I was reliving the moments that made me who I was today. Which meant that I had one more before I was done. There was only one other time that made me into James T. Kirk. I had to hurry.

I swung back on the bar as far as I possibly could, and slammed my feet on the pillar.

It snapped back into place, and a thundering roar followed it. The blast that came from the energy reconnecting was strong, and I tumbled to the floor. I groaned at the sharp crack that my back made, but stumbled to my feet.

Where…? The… the door… I found my way over to the steel opening, and shut the heavy thing behind me as I staggered my way back to Scotty. When I got to the cramped tunnel, I felt tears slip down my cheeks, hot and sticky. I collapsed onto all fours, and started down the tunnel.

Flash!

"Everything's fine, mom. It's just food's a little tight, that's all. There's no need to take a shuttle here, you're on a mission!" My first big lie to my mother. I hadn't eaten in two days.

Flash!

Slowly watching my cousins starve to death on Tarsus IV.

Flash!

Beating a man for an old loaf of bread. I was only a kid.

Flash!

Feeling my body grow weaker with each passing day.

Flash!

My periods stopped coming, and I knew that I was starving.

Flash!

Lying on the dry and cracked earth, too weak to get up, watching the stars and praying.

Flash!

No help arriving. Most of my cousins were dead.

Flash!

Running my hands over my ribs, counting each one as my fingers dragged over them.

Flash!

Being picked up in strong arms, fear coursing through me at the thought of a rapist.

Flash!

The strong arms were cool, and rather comforting when I put it together that they weren't hurting me.

Flash!

Being set down on a soft surface, the low hum of voices overhead. I opened my eyes as far as they would go-which was barely a crack to peek through, and seeing men and women rushing around, helping people.

Saved.

I was suddenly collapsed by the glass door that blocked the radiation from flooding the ship. What…? How did I get all the way over here? I looked over, and saw that the door was still open, still letting a bunch of the radiation in.

I heard Scotty speaking. "Engineering to Bridge. Mr. Spock." He paused, probably listening to a response. "Sir, you'd better get down here." Scotty looked over at me. "Better hurry."

I blinked a few times, trying to remember how I'd gotten all the way here so quickly. More time had passed than I thought, because I was roused from my thoughts by the sound of Spock running into the room.

"Jim!" He darted over to the door, and stood there, shocked. He looked at Scotty. "Open it."

"The decontamination process is not complete; you'd flood the whole compartment." Scotty's voice was shaking. "The door's locked, sir."

I saw Spock swallow hard, and he knelt by the door. I grunted as I pushed myself into a sitting position. I leaned against the wall tiredly. I reached up, the effort of doing so nearly making me pass out, but I fumbled for the switch that would close the door to the chamber. I hit it, and the door sealed. I let my hand drop.

"…How's the ship?" I whispered, blinking slowly at Spock.

He looked at me, quickly ascertaining the state I was in. "Out of danger." He spoke softly, grief clear in his voice.

"Good." I panted.

"You saved the crew."

I looked him in the eye. "You used what he wanted against Khan… that's a nice move…" My vision grew slightly fuzzy, and I blinked to clear it.

He swallowed again. "It is what you would have done."

"This-" I swallowed and took a breath. "This is what you would have done. It was only logical," I chuckled, but it quickly turned into a sob. "I'm scared, Spock-" I swore quietly. "-help me not be… how do you choose not to feel?" I didn't think I was capable of speaking any louder than a whisper, and the broken sobs escaping my throat wasn't making it any easier.

Spock looked like what I imagined having your beating heart carved out felt like. He shook his head a little, barely moving. "I do not know." He paused. "Right now I am failing."

Let the world know, that once again, James T. Kirk made the untouchable Vulcan look like a kitten doused in ice-water. And left out in the cold to die. Jeez I'm an asshole.

What Spock had said put no end to the fear in my heart, but I shook it off as best I could.

"I want you to know why I couldn't let you die." I raised my voice just the tiniest bit that I could manage. "Why I went back for you that day-" A cough escaped my mouth, preventing me from saying what I meant to.

Spock finished. "Because you are my friend."

I smiled. "And-…" I drew in a breath. It was getting harder. "And-… not only do I consider you… my friend… but… Spock, I've fallen for you." My vision started to fade, and my eyes widened in fear. I put my hand against the glass, searching for some support of any kind. "I... I've fallen for you, and what a gl-glorious fall it's been, Spock."

The human side of himself that he had tried so hard to suppress for years was fully emerged now. Emotions ran across his face so quickly, that it was a wonder that he had any Vulcan DNA at all. He slowly placed his hands opposite mine, subconsciously forming the sign for respect, hello, and farewell with his fingers. And in that gesture, I understood everything that he didn't have the time to say.

He loved me too. And I was happy. I spread my fingers to match his, and smiled as I drifted into the black.