This turned out a little more sorrowful than I originally intended and I almost just deleted it thinking it was too sad. But what the hell. Here it is.
Jim found him tending his garden, knelt in the dirt, fingers in the soil. His shoulders were slightly stooped, but really that was almost the only sign of his age. That and the black hair now liberally streaked with gray.
He looked up at the darkening sky. It was not quite four but this time of the year it got dark far too early. Plus Jim was fairly sure a storm was coming.
Spock looked up from the garden he tended. His lips quirked just slightly when he took in that Jim had bundled himself into his warmest coat. “You should have stayed inside, t’hy’la. It is cold out here. I will be in soon.”
“To think I used to be always hot,” Jim replied. “While I’m grateful for the extra time I got from that super blood, it would have been nice to have a few other perks.”
“The fact that you are still with me is all that I need. I will warm you up later.”
Jim smiled. “Is that a promise?”
Jim looked down at what Spock was growing. “Your onions are doing great.”
“Indeed. I will be harvesting them tomorrow and most everything else, too. The weather is turning too cold to grow much of anything much longer.”
He sounded wistful and Jim hated that. He should have let them move to a climate better suited for Spock’s wanting to grow things.
“Speaking of onions,” Jim said instead. “I’m making potato leek soup and we’ll have hot fresh baked rolls with it.”
“I look forward to it.”
There didn’t seem much else to say and Jim really was cold.
“Okay, I’ll see you inside.”
Jim bit his lip and turned to go back into the farmhouse. He paused on the porch to look back. The thing he feared most, more than any other in this lifetime, was that he would outlive Spock. He would ensure that it would not be for long, should that happen, but it still plagued him. In the other universe, Spock had died saving the Enterprise, he knew that. And the other him had endured it. Somehow. And in the end he’d made sure Spock lived once more. Yet, that Spock had died alone without Jim, anyway.
He watched as Spock stood with still a great amount of grace. He wiped the dirt off his robe and turned toward the path to return to the farmhouse himself.
Spock arched his brow when he saw that Jim still stood on the porch.
Jim pulled him up the stairs and wrapped his arms around his Vulcan.
“I am still covered in dirt, ashayam.”
“I don’t care.”
Spock leaned his head against Jim’s. “You did not return to the warmth of the house.”
“I know. It’s not warm without you.”
“You are most—”
“Illogical. Yeah.” Jim pulled back and smiled at the Vulcan that was everything. “I love being your illogical human.”
Spock’s hand came up to caress Jim’s cheek. “You do it so well.”
He laughed then and soundly kissed his husband. “I love you. So much.”
“And I worship and adore you.”
Jim took Spock’s hand and led him inside the farmhouse.
And it was indeed…warm.