Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto)

Fan Fiction and Personal Rambles


Star Trek

Trashing the Tree, Flash Fic, 12/14/2018


Spock was coming up the street to his apartment building when he saw a human male struggling with removing a rather large pine tree from inside the building’s foyer out to the sidewalk.

It made no sense to Spock, as the Terran holiday of Christmas had not yet passed, so the human should be bringing the tree inside instead of outside.

Spock walked up the steps and realized he knew this human. Not well, but he knew him. Almost everyone knew James Kirk. He was extremely popular at Starfleet Academy and Spock had him in one of his classes the year before. It did not hurt that he was exceptionally goodlooking by any standards, even Vulcan ones.   Golden hair, blue eyes, pouty red lips. Yes, Spock found him…appealing.

“Do you require assistance, Cadet Kirk?”

Kirk looked at him startled, through the branches of the tree. Even then Spock could see his eyes were wet and rimmed red.

“Are you in distress?” Spock demanded.

“Oh. Um.” The tree rattled and shook and then all of a sudden it lay on the sidewalk at Spock’s feet. “Hi.”

“Good evening.”

Kirk licked his lips. “I, uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to block the entrance into the building, Professor.”

“That is currently not my concern.” Spock surveyed the tree. “Forgive me, Mr. Kirk, but is it not traditional to decorate the tree indoors?”

He nodded, then looked away. “Yeah. Well. Yeah. That’s usually how it works.”

“But?” Spock prodded.

“Oh, everything’s just all messed up, is all.” Kirk sagged against the wall of the building. “I’m throwing it away. The tree, I mean. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it, sir. Let me just move this out of your way, so you can get in.”

“I would not have asked had I not wished to know. It seems a shame to waste the life of this tree all for naught.”

“Yeah.” Kirk wiped his hand over his face. “Maybe you’re right. It’s just…I don’t know why I keep believing, you know.”

Spock did not know. “I can assist you with bringing it back inside to your apartment if you wish.”

Kirk sighed. Looked down at the ground. “Okay. Yeah. Thanks.”

Spock hefted the pine tree up and then pointed to the door. “If you will open that—”

“Wait, you don’t have to carry that by yourself.”

“Just open the door.”

Kirk opened the door and Spock carried the tree into the foyer. Kirk rushed in after him.

“This tree is too big for the lift. I will take the stairs. What floor is your apartment?”

“Really I—”

“Cadet…Jim. This will be a lot easier if you simply cooperate and advise me where your apartment is.”

“Third floor.”

“Thank you.”

Spock went up the stairs on the right, conscious of Kirk following up after him, apologizing profusely the whole way. Spock ignored him until they reached the third floor and Kirk ran ahead of him, opening a door on the far right of the corridor. Spock carried the tree inside, noticed a tree stand still set up in the middle of the living room and headed there.

“I’m sorry for all this trouble.”

“You do not need to apologize repeatedly.” Spock stuck it in place. “This is a large and beautiful tree.”

“Yeah.” Kirk blushed red. “I, uh, sorry about that.”


“I mean, about the tree. Being dead. You being Vulcan it probably offends you. I didn’t think. As usual. About anything really.”

“Jim, I would like you to explain what happened to cause you to wish to dispose of this tree.”

Kirk deflated even more if that was possible. “My mom. She had told me she was coming here. To San Francisco and we’d spend Christmas together. It was going to be the first time in years. And I know, I’m way too old for this, but I got a little excited and I went out and got this tree and some decorations and I started planning what we’d eat and just, generally, getting carried away.” He bit his lip.

“She is not coming,” Spock guessed.

“Got it. She contacted me this morning to say, nope, so sorry, Jim. Something came up. Again.” He grimaced. “Something always comes up. Since I was a kid. She was always off planet. Never around. And every time she tells me she’s coming, I believe it all over again like a dummy.”

“I am sorry that she continues to disappoint you,” Spock said. “I do not know her, so I cannot say if she had good intentions or not, but knowing what I do know about you, I cannot imagine that she did not intend to fulfill her obligations when she first promised.”

“I shouldn’t have bought this tree, obviously. No one else is going to be around except me.”

“What about your friend, Leonard McCoy?”

“Georgia.” Jim smiled and shrugged. “And speaking of, I am sure I’m keeping you from Uhura or something.”

“You are not. Nyota has gone for the Winter break as well.”

“And she didn’t take you with her?”

Spock frowned. “Why would she?”

“I thought you two were…together. Together.”

“We are friends. There is no romantic connection if that is what you believe. I admire many qualities Nyota possesses, which is why we are friends.”

“Oh.” Kirk nodded and moistened his lips. Which for some reason Spock always noticed.  “So. Would you…like to stay for dinner?”

“Yes,” Spock said immediately. “And afterward, perhaps, I could help you decorate your tree with the decorations you bought.”

Those blue eyes met his and they were much brighter and lighter than they’d been only moments before.

“I would love that.”


Stuck With Me, Flash Fic, December 07, 2018


“We cannae beam you up at this moment, Commander.”

Spock closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and tried to focus. “The captain is severely injured, Mr. Scott. Without emergency treatment, he will likely not survive.”


The hoarse, pained whisper had him flinching, but he did not look in the captain’s direction.

“Mr. Spock, if I even attempted it, your particles would break up in space. We’re working on it as fast as we can,” Scott replied, sounding as though he might cry.

“Understood. Contact me as soon as you have news. Spock out.”

He closed his communicator and glanced toward Jim, who lay bleeding against the wall of the cave Spock had carried his injured body to earlier. Outside, snow fell on this particular nightmare of a planet. He’d bundled the captain up as best he could, but he could see Jim shaking and his teeth chattering.

“Spock, just take these blankets and wrap yourself up in them so when you’re rescued, you’ll be okay,” Jim said, his voice a weak whisper.

“You need them, Captain. You are freezing.”

“I’m gonna die, Spock.”

“No.” He spoke too sharply. He knew that. When they were back on the Enterprise and Jim was all right, then he could reprimand Spock. “You will not die.”

“You heard Scotty. He can’t get me on the ship.”

“They will get you on the ship and Dr. McCoy will give you the necessary treatment and you will be all right,” Spock insisted.

Spock knelt down next to Jim, who visibly shivered. His eyes were dim and pain-filled.

“Spock, please, just take the blankets and stuff and stay warm.”


“That’s an order.”

“Court-martial me when we return to the Enterprise.”

Jim closed his eyes.


He shook his head slightly. “I’m here. I haven’t left yet.”

“And you will not.” Spock reached for Jim’s hand, it was so cold, it was like he was holding a hand made from ice. Spock began to feel despondent. This could not be how it ended. No. “I will add my body heat to yours.”

Jim just looked at him now and didn’t even protest which worried him even more. He placed himself next to Jim on the cave floor, gathered him close and then wrapped the emergency blankets around the two of them.

“I think I should tell you something,” Spock said then.

Jim did not respond, he just sagged against Spock. Breathing, though barely. Spock was beginning to panic.

“I intended to discuss this with you at a more convenient time, but—”

“There may not be any more time,” Jim rasped out.

Spock would not say that. Could not. And he refused to even think that. “I have felt this way for many months. Perhaps longer. When we first began our romantic relationship, I should have told you then, but I held back for fear…it does not matter. I love you, Jim. And I want you as my bondmate.”

Jim looked at his through pain-filled eyes. “Bondmate?”

“Yes. In fact, I would bond with you right now.”


Spock knew he was taking a big risk, but he was desperate. He could not, would not lose Jim.

He put his hand on Jim’s cold face. So cold. Too cold. He spread his fingers out.

“My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts. Parted and never parted. Together and always.”

He was in Jim’s mind. Even as he entered, he felt the dimness, the weakening. Jim was fading. Everything that was Jim was dying. Going. Spock was nearly too late.

Jim. Come to me.


T’hy’la, come.

Again nothing. Jim’s consciousness faded more. Spock focused.

James. Reach for my hand.

In Spock’s mind he created an image of himself and an image of Jim. They both wore their uniforms, though Jim’s shirt was ripped and torn, covered in way too much blood. He held his hand out toward Jim.

Jim’s gaze flicked to Spock’s face and then down to his hand.

Yes, ashayam. Take it. Bond with me.

Jim took a step forward, then looked down at the blood on his shirt then back up at Spock. He extended his hand again toward Jim.

Choose me.

Jim stumbled forward, his hand reaching out and Spock took a step closer to him, seizing hold of his hand, closing his fingers into Jim’s, and tugging him close. In his mind, Spock put his hand on Jim’s face, as he was doing in the cave.

“We are one, always. This is the Vulcan heart, this is the Vulcan soul.”

Jim’s eyes widened slightly.

“Heal, my Jim.”

Jim sagged against him and collapsed in Spock’s arms.


“How did you get him into the healing trance?” McCoy asked Spock much later as Jim lay on the biobed in the medbay. Jim was still much paler than Spock would have liked, but the doctor assured Spock Jim would be all right.

Spock hesitated. “It is something that Vulcans and their mates can do.”

McCoy looked at Spock. Frowned. “Mates? What sort of mates?”


“What? When? Spock—”

“Hey, no yelling.”

Spock immediately turned to Jim, whose eyes were open staring openly at him and the doctor. “Jim!”

McCoy immediately began to scan their captain.

Jim looked past the doctor to Spock. He smiled. “Hey you.”

Spock could not speak, he just looked into Jim’s beautiful blue eyes, full of life.

McCoy frowned. “How do you feel?”

“Good. Thanks to you, Bones. And to Spock.”

“Yeah, listen, Spock said something about mates and I—

“Yeah.” Jim smiled. “Spock’s my husband now. You’d better be nice.” Then he laughed softly.

McCoy rolled his eyes. “I’ll be right back. Married, God help me.”

Spock scooted closer and grabbed Jim’s hand. His warm hand. So warm. “Ashayam.”

“Spock, I love you. And I’m pretty sure you knew that long before I told you, but are you sure about this?”


“Yeah? Because, aren’t you stuck with me now?” He smiled, but it was a little hesitant.


“You’re not?”

Spock squeezed his hand. “I am afraid you are stuck with me.”

Ramblings for December 06, 2018


beverage blur candy candy cane
Photo by Pixabay on

Tonight our power will be turned off and isn’t supposed to come back on until about 4AM. Sigh. I guess it will definitely be dark for sleeping.

Looks like Disneyland on Sunday is happening as we have scheduled the time for leaving and everything. I suppose I will still be skeptical until I walk through the gate! HA.

Tomorrow will be another Flash Fic Friday. So you have that to look forward to.

You all know I finished Where My Demons Hide. It’s a relief to have it over. That leaves me with only 11 current WIPs. I say “only” because I have had at one time or another more than 15.

My plan right now is not to post any more WIPs. If I have something finished, like the Christmas story, I will post it, but once those WIPs are completed, I won’t be posting any more. It’s very possible I won’t be writing any more fan fics at all once those are done. I think I’m getting close to saying all I have to say about Kirk and Spock. I am definitely repeating stories and ideas.

That may or may not be what you want to hear, but that’s where I am coming from.

The thing is I do have other ideas, like the one that goes with ‘Dancing on My Own’, but I am not sure at this point that I am ever going to write it.

Writing has always been my therapy. Anyway, that’s something you can hopefully look forward to in 2019, the conclusion of those 11 stories. My strategy might change on how I work on them. It might be that I will just pick a story and write on it until its done, and then so on with each story, we shall see.

December has begun its busy busy business. I have something planned for every weekend this month and many things during the week. Hopefully I will maintain my sanity as well as my physical health.

I’m tweaking one story for the Flash that I think needs more added and I am also working on the T’hy’la story. That’s it for this year, I think. Too busy and overwhelmed for much of anything else. I’d like to enjoy my holidays. I still have several movies to watch too.

You’ll notice I am using the free photos from WordPress for my blog lately, lol. Too lazy to upload new ones of my own, etc.


Home, Flash Fic, November 30, 2018

close up of christmas decoration hanging on tree
Photo by Gary Spears on

It was silly to care, I knew that.

Spock didn’t. It was just another day to him. Probably always had been. And he only indulged his illogical mate over the years.

I got it. I did.

But still, I stood looking out the window of our house on New Vulcan. For what? I didn’t know. Normally, we might have been in Riverside this time of year, but because of Spock’s ambassadorial duties, this year we were on New Vulcan.

Except that Spock had been called away and here I was alone.

Waiting for my husband to come home.

How pathetic.

I turned away from the window with a sigh and looked out over our house. I’d put up a small tree. Even decorated it. By myself. I felt more than a little foolish to have bothered.

“Computer stop Christmas music playlist.”

The strains of holiday music abruptly ceased. I eyed my gingerbread flavored tea dispassionately and picked up the cup and poured it out into the sink.

“Time to grow up, Jim,” I told myself out loud.

I was never going to be able to recreate happy holiday times that just never existed.

The first year Spock and I had been a couple, I had mentioned Christmas.

His face had gone quite blank.

“Didn’t you ever, I don’t know, celebrate some kind of holiday with Uhura?” And it had been hard to even say that, because I was still a little sensitive about the whole Spock and Uhura were a couple for so long crap.

“Nyota respected my Vulcan cultural differences.”

I had shrunk back then from the embrace we’d been in, feeling as though I had been slapped. I turned away, desperate to hide the hurt I was certain showed.

“Jim, that is not what I meant. That came out wrong,” Spock insisted.

“Sure. I have to get back to the bridge.”


And it had been better later. We’d had a small celebration, which I had been expanding on or at least trying to maintain ever since.

Now, back in the present, I sighed with regret and figured I might as well just take everything down and put it away. For good this time. It seemed ridiculous now that I’d brought everything with me to New Vulcan.

A week ago when Sarek had stopped by to see if I needed anything while Spock was away, I’d seen the barest hint of disapproval in his eyes at my Christmas decorations. He hid it well, but I’d seen it.

Sometimes I felt as though I had been the one doing all the compromising. I knew that wasn’t fair, I did. But I was sad and lonely and depressed at that moment and all I could see was everything negative.

I grabbed a plastic box and took it over to the tree to begin to remove the ornaments. The first one I removed was a tiny little replica of Vulcan Prime. I’d found it in a little Alpine Christmas shop on Earth in Germany. I’d been kind of thrilled at the time at my find but of course when I’d shown my purchase to Spock he’d made some dismissive comment about how a tiny little ornament could never really represent his planet.

I should have thrown it away then, I thought, as I took it down and put it in the box.

Nyota respected my Vulcan cultural differences.

“Yeah, well fuck you,” I said out loud. “And her too. I’m not fucking Nyota.”

“For which I am grateful.”

I dropped the ornament I held, a squirrel holding an acorn, and turned in shock to see my husband standing just inside our house, wearing a black cloak and a turtle neck sweater in a blue that matched my eyes. I know, he’d told me he’d picked it out for that very reason.


He inclined his head. “What are you doing, ashayam?”

“Uh.” I set the box down and hurried over to him. “Never mind that. You’re home!” I threw my arms around him and he pulled me close, nosing into my hair by my ear. A thrill shot through me. “I thought you weren’t going to be back until next month.”

“I was able to finish earlier than anticipated,” Spock said, his arms holding my very close indeed. “I thought my presence would be welcome for your holiday celebration.”

“It is. Very much so.” I pulled back to kiss him full on the lips.

Spock grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the tree. “What are you doing?” he asked again.

I swallowed heavily. “Well. I, um. I was putting it all away.”

Spock looked down into the box and reached down to pull out the replica of Vulcan Prime. His gaze rose to mine. And I couldn’t hold it. I looked away, not wanting him to read me just then.

“Jim,” he said softly. “We can celebrate Christmas every day if that is what you wish.”

I laughed and turned red. “That’s not what I want. It’s not very special if it’s every day.”

His fingers touched my chin and forced me to meet his gaze. “I love you. Beyond all ordinary meaning of such simple words. I would give up all and anything to make you happy.”

My tears pricked and stung my eyes. “I don’t want you to give up who you are or anything else. I just—”

“I know.” Spock drew me close again, still holding the ornament at the same time. “I made it back here today to be with you, as I knew you would want. I know you, ashayam. Better than I know myself at times. I never want you to change. You are my beautiful mate.”

“Spock,” I whispered into his neck.

He reached past me to put the ornament back on the tree. “Come. Let’s have some of that gingerbread tea you love so much.”

I smiled. “Yeah?”

“Indeed. And perhaps we can even replicate cookies.”

“Now you’re talking!” I laughed and pulled him toward the kitchen. And my heart was light. Spock was home.

Briefly! Writing Related

The Mysterious One has been updated. The weirdness of their planet continues. Look for our favorite Vulcan to make an appearance in the chapter after this one.

I am now going to be for the foreseeable future working on my T’hy’la Bang story. I have about 1300 words done but I need to seriously get cracking on it.

I was able to update two other stories this week, Nine Lives and The Mysterious One. I also finished all my Flash Fics for this year, as you know, and have them scheduled.

I finished the Christmas story, That Glorious Song of Old, as well, and will be posting it in the near future. It’s a few chapters but I intend to just post the whole thing on the day I post. You are welcome to comment on each chapter though if you want. I love that!

That’s it!

Illogical Regrets, Flash Fic

I got a request for this, after the happenings of Amok Time, and I decided to do it AOS, because, well, that’s what I do most of the time.


Spock walked into his quarters and stopped in the middle, unsure what to do. He was shaking still. He was so certain he had killed Jim. That this was the end for him. For them.

He would never recover.

Never mind his career, that was unimportant to killing…his captain.

This was much closer to killing Jim then when he had been choking him on the bridge during Nero.

In fact, he had killed Jim. He had. He would have. Jim would be dead. If not for McCoy’s neural paralyzer—

The madness that overtaken him. He had been so certain he would not have to go through this. He was only half Vulcan. Had had it drilled in to him so many times that he wasn’t considered Vulcan enough by his peers. His father—

Well, his father had expressed disappointment in him until the death of his mother.

Spock hadn’t believed T’Pring had survived the destruction of Vulcan, but she had. He’d learned that a year after. She hadn’t been on Vulcan at the time of the destruction. And even then, Spock had assumed she had the preliminary betrothal link they’d been given as children severed. She had always promised she would.

But then the madness came, and he knew then, T’Pring hadn’t severed their link. He’d turned from Nyota to bond with T’Pring, the one chosen for him. While his intention had never been to hurt Nyota, he had no choice but to do his duty. Her tears had not affected him much, as the fever had already started. He had not spoken to Nyota since he’d felt the Plak Tow. And he did not wish to see her or speak with her now.

He thought only of Jim.


Who had just been smiling, brightly, and with all the forgiveness Spock surely did not deserve. Grinning and proving to Spock that he was very much alive and so beautiful Spock’s heart hurt.

T’Pring. Why had she so cruelly chosen to jeopardize Jim’s life instead of just ending things between them before it ever reached this point? She cared not at all for Jim, who as a human, would have died at Spock’s hands.

Spock would have forever mourned the fact he had murdered his own friend. Never mind Spock’s romantic feelings for Jim, he was his friend, and T’Pring knew he would have killed Jim.

He could no longer deny to anyone, especially himself, his true feelings for Jim.

Spock glanced toward their shared bathroom. Jim was not presently in his quarters. Spock knew this because he was always hyper aware of Jim’s movements there. He heard nothing from that direction now.

Besides, he’d heard Jim make plans to see the doctor later. Something about a drink together. How they deserved it after everything they’d been through.

Jim should not be with McCoy. He should be with Spock. Where he belonged.


Jim was not his. Should never be. Spock was so ashamed.

Before he could even think to stop himself, Spock walked into their shared bathroom, straight through it, and into Jim’s quarters.

He paused just inside, almost in the doorway of the bathroom. He had never invaded this space without Jim present.

Spock turned to go back the way he’d come when he spotted Jim’s shirt lying on the end of his bed. His heart rate picked up dramatically as he realized which shirt it was.

The one.

Jim had been wearing this one when—

Spock’s breath hitched, and he walked over to Jim’s bed.

Jim’s bed.

He might never have slept here again. Because Spock would have-would have—

Spock picked up the ruined shirt. The slashes across Jim’s chest were stained with blood. The blood of…

Spock clenched his eyes shut and turned toward his own quarters, the shirt still held in his hands. He walked through their shared bathroom and to his own quarters.

The blood. The slashes. The lirpa wounds.

What pain Jim must have felt.

Because of him.

He rubbed his thumb on the dried blood. It made him so ashamed and angry. Not at Jim, never. But at T’Pring. At himself. At those Vulcans who just planned on letting him kill his friend and captain.

Spock turned in anger to his laundry program. He could not stand for one more moment to see Jim’s blood there. Blood he spilled.

It made him want to resign his commission and put himself in for court martial all over again.

When the shirt came out clean, Spock pressed it to his face once more.

“Jim,” he whispered. Though it was illogical since he had just washed it, Spock was certain he could smell Jim on the material. There was no longer a trace of blood, but the slashes of the lirpa were still there. Still the evidence of what he’d done.

Tears pricked his eyes and he shoved his face into the shirt.

“Hey, Spock, sorry to cut through the bathroom, but I—”

Spock raised his head quickly to see the object of his affection, of his everything, standing in his quarters, staring at Spock in utter shock. His mouth hung open, his blue eyes were wide and so-so blue.

“Spock, are you okay? What are you doing?”

“Your-your shirt…”

Jim moved from by the bathroom over to where Spock stood holding on to his shirt for dear life. “I’m okay, Spock. I’m right here.”

“But…the cuts.”

Jim searched his gaze, his eyes crinkling as he smiled gently. He pried the shirt from Spock’s hands, who let loose only reluctantly.

“Did you remove the blood?”

Spock nodded, mutely.

Jim pulled off his command tunic and the undershirt under it, then to Spock’s surprise, pulled the ruined shirt on, pulling it down over his chest. “See? No more cuts or blood.”

Spock stared at his chest through the slashes. He could see scars. He had scarred him. He swallowed heavily. “The scars—”

“Oh. Well. Bones could have gotten rid of those or at least made them a little less prominent, but I…you would think I’m kind of weird.” Jim laughed, and Spock loved his laugh. So much. “Weirder.”

Spock breathed out. “You-you should laugh more. It is precious.”

Jim frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am…ashamed.”


“Jim.” Spock could not hold himself back any longer. He needed to touch Jim. He realized how many times they had just touched, like it was natural, normal. And it was between them.

He seized hold of that shirt he had ruined and used it to pull Jim closer. His gaze strayed toward Jim’s nipples, plainly visible through the slashes in the shirt, something he had seen before, yes, Jim ruined his shirt often, though this was the first time Spock had been the cause, but he had never dared even look too long at them. He did now.

Before he could stop himself, he moved his hand to Jim’s chest. He swiped his thumb through the cut shirt and across the left one. Jim sucked in a breath.

His gaze met Jim’s. “You were saying about the scars?”

Jim shook his head, his Adam’s apple sliding down his throat. “Just…when we-we were sparring, you were lying on top of me and I just…I could feel you.” Jim’s face reddened. “All of you. I’ve-I’ve imagined it so many times, not like that, no, but, you and I, you on me like that, and I just never wanted to forget that feeling. Not that scars—”

“Jim.” Spock bent toward Jim’s chest, flicking his tongue out at the nipple he’d just swiped with his thumb.


He sucked on first one and then the other of Jim’s nipples, as his captain fell into his arms, sagging against him. He lifted Jim into his arms then and turned toward his bed. He planned on showing Jim just how precious he really was.

To Spock. Especially to Spock.


Monday Ramblings, November 05, 2018


Okay, so this past weekend I updated both When I Loved You and Didn’t We Almost Have it All. And did a one-shot called Seriously. Not bad. Wasn’t sure I was going to get to update anything this weekend.

During the week I will try to get an update to my Kirk family story, The Ties That Bind. One may wonder where Spock is in this story. He’s coming. I promise. That’s the last one that hasn’t been updated since September. So I’m making progress.

Where My Demons Hide comes after that and I am on the course for the end for that one. I hope to have it finished soonish. Maybe when I get to it, I will just write it to the end. Maybe not. Because, I also need to finish the Christmas story and get serious on the T’hy’la Bang story.

The good news for those last two is they will be finished when posted. A really hard thing for me folks! HA.

Wednesday is Outlaw King day, so that means a certain actor’s penis. Yes, I will be watching. Duh. The movie is apparently violent but we shall see how that goes. I just want to see him, beard and all, LOL.

No movie this week as there’s nothing really out we want to see. I did finally see Halloween. I liked it. There were some head scratching moments, I will not deny. But for the most part, it was decent. Not It decent, but decent. Speaking of King, I also saw they are remaking Pet Semetary. I swear they can’t come up with anything new to make.

As I write this, my lower back is killing me. It’s hell getting old, you know?



Thursday, November 01, Ramblings

First up, I have posted my Old Married Spirk story, A Beginning. I know today was the first day for posting, but I had it done, and decided why wait? I don’t mind being first. It is what it is. I hope you like it. The Original Series is not something I write a lot of.

This week I also posted a Halloween story and the next chapter of The Mysterious One, as well as My Devotion. That’s definitely it for the week.

I am returning to working on my Christmas story which is up over 8,000 words already. Once that is done, I will need to get more work done on my T’hy’la Bang story coming in January, as well as everything else I need to do!

I hope to have a pretty quiet weekend ahead of me. Might do some cleaning. We are hosting Thanksgiving this year and the place has a lot that needs to be done before it is clean enough for company. Fortunately I have taken the entire week of Thanksgiving off. I think I have a wine party the weekend before that but that’ll be fine.

We got exactly one child last night, our next door neighbor. Townhome and condo complexes really are ridiculous.

I’ve already voted because I vote by mail though the election is this coming Tuesday. We also change to standard time this weekend and I say, bleh. I hate it dark by 5:00. HATE IT.

WDPLUF, Chapter 4

Jim woke to the sound of a crash and then yelling. For a moment he lay there, his heart pounding so hard his chest hurt. Had they come for him?

But no.

This wasn’t Tarsus. It was Eldred. And it wasn’t Kodos’ men coming for victims. It was his mother and her husband fighting. Again.

He reached for his earphones and stuck them in his ears but he could hear them shouting right through the supposedly noise canceling buds. Jim pulled them out of his ears, sat up and went to where had left his discarded jeans before going to bed. He pulled them on and then went to the window.

The night was warm so he’d left it open earlier. Now he crawled through it, jumping down and landing in the dirt. He hadn’t bothered with shoes. If he could get away without shoes and socks every day, he would. No doubt why he had a million calluses on his feet already.

The further he got away from the house, the less he could hear them shouting. Frank was probably drunk. He hadn’t ever been physically abusive to her that Jim knew but the emotional and mental abuse took its toll on both his mother and Jim. Back when Jim used to pray, he prayed his mother would kick Frank to the curb once and for all. But instead she gave him another chance. Every single time.

Before he even knew where he was going, Jim realized he had made his way to Spock’s house. It was dark, of course. It was the middle of the night. Spock and his mom would be asleep.

Even still Jim made his way over to the window for Spock’s room. There were small lights flickering within so Jim tapped lightly on the window.

A moment later, Spock appeared and lifted it up. “Jim?”

“Hey,” Jim whispered. “There were lights. I’m kind of surprised you were up.”

“I am meditating.” Spock hesitated. “Would you like to come inside?”

Jim shook his head. “I don’t want to bother your mom.”

“She is sleeping. Come inside.”

Spock moved away from the window and Jim climbed through and into the room.

Jim’s gaze flicked around at all the lit candles. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“It is no matter. You appeared upset.”

“My mother and stepfather were fighting,” Jim admitted. “They woke me.”

“I am sorry. It must be difficult.” Spock gestured to a chair in his room. “Sit. Would you like me to bring you tea? Water?”

Jim sat in the chair and pulled his knees up. “No, I…just wanted to see you again. Sorry for leaving so abruptly earlier today.”

“I took no offense. Would you like to see Butterscotch?”

He smiled a little. “If I could…I mean is she sleeping?”

“I believe so but I can wake her.”

“No. Don’t. I can come back another day.” Jim bit his lip. “Gives me an excuse to come back.”

“You need no excuse, Jim. I enjoy your company.”

“Yeah?” Jim felt himself blush. “I don’t really make friends easily.”

“Nor do I.”

Jim glanced at Spock in surprise. “Really?”

“Quite true.”

“But why? You’re so cute.” Fuck. “I mean smart. So smart.”



“I find you…cute also.”

Jim sucked in a breath. “Spock. I, uh, wow.”

Spock’s lip curved upward just slightly. “I, too, am gratified. Jim, why do you not spend the night? That chair pulls out to a lounger. You can return home in the morning with no one the wiser.”

“You don’t mind?”

“I do not.”

“How old are you, Spock? If I may ask.”

“I will be one and twenty very soon. And you, Jim?”

“I turned eighteen a month ago.” He sighed. “Didn’t finish school though. Because of…circumstances.”

Spock nodded. “That is unfortunate. But perhaps I could assist you in catching up on your education.”

Jim grinned. “In between lyre lessons?”

Spock’s lips twitched. “Indeed. Go to sleep, Jim. We will talk more tomorrow.”


Spock was awakened later by Jim whimpering and crying out in his sleep. At first Spock was not sure what to do but eventually he rose from his bed to where Jim thrashed about as he was unable to allow the younger man to be in so much distress.


Spock knelt next to the chair, his hand outstretching toward Jim’s face.


He shook Jim slightly. To enter Jim’s mind, even for good, without his permission would not be right. He needed to find another method of waking Jim. He dropped his hand to his side and shook Jim again, more persistently this time.

Jim gasped and came awake instantly, eyes wide and frightened. “Where—”

“You are here with me, Jim. You are safe.”

Jim grabbed Spock’s arms. “Spock?”

“Yes, Jim.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. Guess you should have made me go home.”

Spock shook his head. “It is fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Jim insisted. “I have nightmares. A lot. And you certainly didn’t bargain for those.”

“I did not,” Spock admitted. “But I suspect you find it no bargain either.”

Jim smiled. “No. No, I don’t.”

Spock glanced toward his bed and then back to Jim. “May I make the suggestion that you sleep in the bed with me? Perhaps being close to someone will ease your nightmares.”

Jim bit his lip. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“If I found the idea troublesome, I would not have suggested it.”

The smile returned. “Yeah? Okay. I-I’d like that.”

Spock rose from next to the chair to allow Jim to get up and walk over to Spock’s bed.

For a moment, Jim simply stared at the bed. Then he got in without looking at Spock and then Spock got in without looking at Jim. He pulled the sheet and blanket up over them.

“Goodnight, Jim.”


When Spock woke in the morning, Jim had already gone, but there lingered there in his bedroom a hint of Jim and Spock liked it.

Create a free website or blog at

Up ↑