Title: Green Heart
Author: Farfalla
Contact: blueberrysnail@yahoo.com
Betas: Saavant, Leiabelle, and Blue, I thank you immensely! :-D
Series: TOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: NC-17 (eep, look, Farfie’s naughty...)
Part: 1/1
Archive: Yeah sure spread the luv ;-) but somebody tell me about it first (if it's someone other than the regular ASCEM folks)? ;-D
My K/S website: http://spirk.cosmicduckling.com
Summary: Kirk is reminiscing about the events that led to his relationship with his beloved Spock. One of those After-Amok-Time stories ;-)

Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent , and also the Pon Farr Fest at http://www.geocities.com/ponfest

Disclaimer: The entire Trek universe belongs to Paramount and will not suffer much from the poking and prodding of our curious collective imaginations. We mean our beloved characters no harm and think that quite possibly they enjoy the variety ;-)


GREEN HEART

She is absolutely thrilled to see the bridge. Every inch of her ten year old golden-skinned face is shining like a quasar. What interests her most, of course, is her mother's communications control panel. She's spent most of her life learning secondhand every detail of her father Scotty's beloved ship from an engineering perspective (as much as a bright child can understand and absorb, of course), but before today she was never allowed to see where her mother worked. No children on the bridge, says the rule.

But Lt. Uhura has just saved my life, in person and without anything to assist her except her quick thinking mind, her skill at communicating, and a very optimistic sense of courage. So naturally I could not refuse her brilliant little daughter a chance to finally see the control seats from which dear "Uncle" Jim and his pointy-eared bondmate "ruled the stars". (Scotty must have been telling her old folktales about the British navy ruling the waves back in nineteenth century Earth, and she has her mother's gift for communicating and poetry.)

"So this blue button's the automatic connect to Starfleet?" she asks her mom.

"Yes, it instantly searches all frequencies for the Starfleet signals and puts us online with the clearest one." Nyota is glowing almost as much as her little girl.

"Leonore, guess how fast we're going," Hikaru Sulu is calling to her playfully across the bridge. Leonore, of course, is named after Bones. Rather gratefully, I might add, after an extremely premature delivery.

"We're going warp 2 because Daddy said so," she smirks at him.

He smirks right back. "Come over here and be my assistant navigator!" Everyone loves Leonore. She seems to have inherited all of her parents' good qualities, not that either of them have any bad ones that come to mind.

In a slow moment, about half an hour later, she turns to me completely out of the blue and asks, "Uncle Jim? How did you and Commander Spock get together?"

After the slightly awkward and amused silence that follows, Pavel Chekov says, "I tink they vere born married." The bridge crew erupts into laughter.

"No, the Commander was a beautiful princess held captive by dragons, and the Captain rescued him by getting him to crack a smile," volunteers Sulu. Leonore is a mass of giggles by this point.

Spock raises his eyebrow at me from his station across the room. "That isn't far from the truth." I wink in his direction. His tall, elegant body beams beauty at me.

"I remember no dragon," he calls back, playfully. (Playfully for him-- I think I am the only person that can tell the difference!) "And I was certainly never a princess."

"Princess Spock!" teases Leonore. Uhura looks slightly embarassed but is still laughing. "I want to hear the story."

"There's not much of a story," I tell her. "It was just.... we were very good friends, and then one day I saved his life. I had no beautiful brilliant little daughter that he could give a tour of the bridge, so he had to marry me instead." At this point Uhura nearly doubles up with giggles. "Somebody find that woman a tribble," I add, which only adds her total glee. We'll never quit teasing her affectionately about that funny, furry mess she created so many years ago, but she knows we love her.

Soon Scotty comes back to the bridge to collect his girl, and they disappear with Thank You's back to the bowels of engineering. In the relative silence that follows, my mind drifts back to that time so long ago, brought to my immediate thoughts by Leonore's questioning. I feel Spock's warm heart in my mind as I remember how he and I became we....

* * *

It was the middle of our five-year mission and Spock and I had just gone through the weirdest ordeal anyone should never have to face. He thought he had killed me down on Vulcan, in a sex-crazed frenzy over a woman he didn't love. Even now, thoughts of T’Bitch... I mean, T’Pring, and the terrible challenge she forced on us, threaten to return my lunch to its preconsumption location. The fever had supposedly broken when he realized what he had done, and he returned to the ship ready to turn himself in as a murderer.

His reaction when he saw me alive is a memory that never fails to send my heart flying around on wings; his obvious and complete love for me-- not that I knew what kind at the time-- poured through the heavy clouds of his Vulcan upbringing and warmed me like pure sunlight. If love had ultraviolet rays, my entire being would be happily and permanently sunburnt.

Of course, he quickly retreated back into his little green shell like a very, very, tall (and hot, and dark, and sultry... er, I digress) turtle. At the time, it helped to stabilize a very weird day for me and Bones. We were used to him being unemotional and stoic, so seeing him return to that state made everything seem like it was going back to normal. And after that day, when I thought I was going to have to kill him, when he had nearly killed *me*... normality was welcomed like a returning hero back from a battle with Romulans.

I was so happy when I felt that he was finally out of danger. He was my dearest friend... well, he was more than that. Spock and Bones were my best friends, but my friendship with Spock made me feel whole in a way that ordinary friendships didn't. Talking with him even about trivial or dry subjects always made me glow. Well, God help me for being nervous about internally admitting that I was in love with him, but at that point in my life I had given up on the idea of being with a man. I had realized in my youth that I was attracted to savory members of both genders, but had never actually come across an actual, real man (as opposed to a wistful fantasy) who fit both my seemingly random standards of attraction and my high standards of companionship. Until that tall, wonderful, graceful, dark-haired, green-hearted scientist eyebrow-quirked his way into my world.

We had been back on the bridge for hours, back on course for the destination that Spock's hormones had previously driven us away from, when it happened. I happened to glance his way, as I usually did every few minutes just to quietly take comfort in his presence. My body temperature rose a few degrees in stress when I realized to my utter horror that the fever was beginning to come back. I don't know how I could pick up the subtle clues; he was all the way over on the other side of the bridge. I just *knew*.

I had to get him off the bridge. Before he BROKE something.

Almost as if he had read my mind, he suddenly turned to me and said, "Excuse me, Captain, I have to--" He gave himself exactly two seconds to invent an excuse that never came before capitulating to his poor frenzied body and simply exiting the bridge without another word.

"Scotty, you have the bridge." As Scotty bewilderedly told me yes Sir, I followed Spock off the bridge and into the open turbolift where he was figetingly standing. He looked both distressed and relieved to see me.

"Spock, it's... coming back, isn't it." I looked into his eyes and saw fear, and something deeper beneath.

Spock didn't speak for a long time. Finally, just as we reached the level with our cabins, he murmured, "Yes. I am sorry, Captain." He walked toward his cabin without looking at me, as if he was not expecting or did not want me to follow.

I did anyway. There was no Vulcan bride for him now to quench his blood, which meant he was walking into his death in that room. And I'd be damned if I was going to let my brilliant Science Officer, my valuable First Officer... ok, my trusted best friend.... ok, ok, who means more than a friend in a special way I know I can never describe.... come to harm if I had anything to say about it. Hearing Bones say, down on the planet, that I was going to have to kill him to survive myself (a responsibility I have as Captain of a Starship), still even NOW brings thuds to my heart.

He turned to me just outside the door. "Captain, I beg you not to come inside. There is nothing you can do-- you have already done enough."

"You're not going to stop me from coming in, and that's an order from your Captain. And from your friend," I added. *Please, Spock, please let me come in with you.* "Besides, once the computers sense you aren't well, they'll contact Bones and then everybody will know you're back in... in...."

That seemed to work. Spock nodded and let me follow him into the room. When the door closed he initiated a privacy lock with override protection, something only I had the power to break. *Wow, he's so far gone he didn't even realize I didn't need his permission to come in,* I thought. However, I think we both knew I would have felt wrong entering without his consent, especially at a time like this.

Spock stood before a lit candle for a few minutes with his eyes closed and his head bowed, ignoring me. My heart was soothed somehow, watching him praying quietly like that. Then, still silent, he lay down on his bed and looked at me. I drew closer.

"Captain...." I could tell that, despite the praying, he was still fighting for control.

"Jim," I corrected. Here he was at his most vulnerable, and still he could not open completely.

"Jim." He paused and licked his lips. He was clearly suffering. "I am going to die because the blood fever cannot be fulfilled."

"Spock, I can--" I looked into his eyes... hoping he'd understand that my offer wasn't one of friendship, or of pity or charity. "Let me--"

He was too far gone to understand where I was coming from. "I cannot hurt you anymore, Jim. Now I have to thank you for your friendship, and offer you my sincerest apology for what I did to you on Vulcan... and what I must do now. You will find that Lieutenant Schanker will make an excellent Science Officer..."

"Spock, I'm pleading with you..." I gripped his hand, which was even hotter than was normal for Vulcans.

"I am now going into the Vulcan healing trance so that my death will be painless. If I were to remain awake, the agony of such a death... through unfulfilled Pon Farr... would be terrible to bear." Those big dark eyes looked into mine for what they thought would be the last time. "Goodbye, my friend." Then he closed his eyes.

I was panicking before I realized that there was a simple solution to this nightmarish problem. In a way, his healing trance, which seemed to be total capitulation and defeat, would let me save his life unhindered by his notions that I was only doing it out of pity or desperate friendship. I suppose it was a completely different scenario from the romantic after-chess shared bottle of wine that I'd imagined would bring us to this point, but this was not the time to wish for romance.

As his breathing grew slow enough for me to be sure that the trance had him safely curled within its mental woolen blanket, I nervously scanned his body with my eyes. Just as I suspected, he was aroused. The projection had sculpted his tight black pants into a crest of need, which fascinated me by its sheer size. *Poor Spock! Oh how I love you.* I wasn't afraid to think it out loud in my head now, because what I had to do next was going to need more comfort with my feelings than I'd had before.

Slowly, but hoping I wasn't going TOO slow, I swept my hand across his beautiful sleeping face and down his chest. The moment was silent and intense. I could feel that green heart that I wanted mine to beat in time with, and prayed that it would never stop beating at all. Then my hand trailed gently down his body to the projection, holding it for a moment. I let myself grow accustomed to this as if it was a cold swimming pool. Well, I usually just jumped right into cold pools, right? My usual boldness returned and as I thought how much I loved Spock, *really* loved him, I gripped him harder through his trousers and started to move my hand back and forth.

Somehow I could just TELL that it was working. His body was responding, even if he was not. I was so used to picking up on his tiniest physiological responses (thanks to his Vulcan stoicism!) that the slightest movement was to me the most sensual sigh, and I began to be aroused myself.

Wanting easier access, I undid his fly and worked his erection out of his pants. It was green like the blood of his heart... his green and lovely heart. I swept my hand over the head and down the shaft over and over again, doing all the things I knew felt best on that particular organ. His skin was the delicate softness of a rose petal, agonizingly beautiful, and the metaphor was quickly applying to "drops of dew" as well. I followed my affection and dove down onto it, opening my mouth in that way for the first time in my life.

Mouths are smaller than they seem.

I was extremely turned on, the situation was very unusual and urgent, and Spock was gorgeous. However, I must say that giving head is more difficult than it looks, at least for humans. I spent a few nanoseconds being mentally awed by some of the women I've been with over the years. Then I found a rhythm and licked and sucked him until I could tell he was about to come. I pulled back a little so his fluid wouldn't hit the back of my throat and make me gag, and then received the relieving and welcome proof that yes, Spock would live. The danger was over.

Panting a little from that incredible and even strangely spiritual experience, and with the taste of Spock's semen still within my mouth, I watched him wake up. I was still holding his hand from before his trance had started.

His eyes opened instantly and regarded me with sudden suspicion. He still thought I had done it out of pity or mere friendship. Then, suddenly, his expression changed to one of childlike awe and gratitude, and... love. "Captain...!" Pause. Quieter, more hushed. "Jim!"

For the second time that day, those utterances of my name rang like bells in my mind. Somehow he could tell that I really did love him, and that I would have wanted to make love to him even if it wasn't to save his life.

Of course.

Vulcans have telepathy.

"Spock...." I leaned into him and helped him sit up. He took my other hand so that now both of his hands were clutching mine.

"Jim." He could not speak for a long time, moved beyond words. "How long have you loved me?"

"I... don't know, really. Long before today," I answered. "How did you know that I loved you? You wouldn't believe me before."

"Pon Farr controls the body mentally as well as physically," Spock explained. His voice had dropped to a sultry sotto voce, and I was already breathing very deeply and still turned on before. His voice made it worse... or better! "Only orgasm obtained through a mental bonding is significant."

"But we weren't bonded. I don't understand..." I blinked.

"Your love for me... and my unspoken love for you... was so strong that a bond was already forming with you in the first signs of the first Plak Tow," he said. "I did not realize it was there due to my condition. I thought I was imagining it, a delusion of fulfilling my illogical fantasies. You must understand, Captain," he added, quirking an eyebrow-- oh God, was I hot for him!-- "you gave no indication that a homosexual relationship would ever be acceptable to you. You do, as they say, love the ladies."

"So wait... Spock... what you're saying is that if I really HAD been doing it just to save your life, then it wouldn't have done any good and you'd still have died?" I asked in wonderment. He nodded. Then I heard all of his words in my mind again and began to understand them more fully. "Your unspoken love for me?"

"I have loved you for...." he began calmly.

"I have to kiss you!" I moved my face closer to his and broke one of our hand-clasps to caress the back of his neck. He tensed up, causing me to ask "What?"

"I don't know how to kiss," he confessed. "Although I would love to learn."

I smirked at him. "Open your mouth a tiny bit." Then I put my mouth to his, and kissed him gently and leisurely. His lips were thick and lush and moved actively with mine, and when we began to kiss more deeply, his tongue played around with mine eagerly.

We drank in that first kiss for a very long time, and then he pulled away slightly to say, "Oh, Jim! I am so sorry for what I did to you on Vulcan." He grabbed me in his arms and held me tighter than I'd ever been held before. He cuddled me and kissed the top of my head. "If it were up to me, no harm would come to you ever again." We remained like that, hugging, clinging to each other, for quite some time before he sultrily murmured, "I wish I had been awake to enjoy your attentions to my body." He must have noticed my erection by that point. "Please, Captain, tell me what you did to me to love me so well?"

I grinned. "You were lying down..."

"So you must lie down, Captain." I complied. His bed was soft and I blessed Vulcan mattress pads. "Go on."

"I... caressed you..." He dragged his hand down my body in exquisite ways. He was making me moan. "How do you know how to DO that?"

"Intuition," he said smugly. "Then what?"

"I touched you."

"I AM touching you." His eyebrows were dancing with my heart.

"You know what I mean!"

"Show me, Captain." I took his hand gently and set it down on the place of my desire. Feeling his touch on me was more pleasure than I'd felt in a long time. *I love you Spock!!!!* Somewhere, in the corner of our growing bond, I could hear his answering, echoing love.

He moved his hand productively on the bulge that protruded from my pants until the fabric began to annoy my soul by its very existence. I wanted to feel his hands, his skin, on my naked skin. He felt this thought, and asked, "What next?"

"I took you out of your pants," I breathed through my deep pleasure at simply being with him in this way. He rescued me from the confines and his hands caressed my tender, yearning skin with great concentration.

"And then, Jim?" He had seen, apparently, the full nature of what I had done to him, because of our kiss. He was able to recognize faint traces of Vulcan love upon my mouth. He peered up at me expectantly, his eyebrow quirked. My penis throbbed at that eyebrow.

"I put my mouth on you, Spock." And he mirrored my actions, but with much more skill than I'd been able to manage. God bless Vulcan biology... and Vulcan control. He could will his gag reflex perfectly into submission.

He took me entirely into his mouth. Just a few moments of sheer pleasure before I knew I was about to explode in passion. "Spock!" I gasped, warning him. He pulled back a little, just as I had done, and drank me as I flew completely into his heart. With this orgasm our lovemaking was now mutual, and our bond was fully formed. *Oh, Spock, I love you, stay with me forever.*

*I would consider it an honor, Captain. I had hoped you would say that.* He crawled up to where I was on the bed, stretching his long, lean body out like a cat's, and put his head on my shoulder. I put my arm around him and we both fell asleep for a little while.

After that short nap, we awoke into our new paradise. We both had to get back to the bridge, but there was plenty of time later for lovemaking, in addition to all of our previous usual forms of friendly activity such as chess. Things were certainly pretty amusing when Bones found out, that's for sure! But that's a different story.

* * *

"Captain?" My love was standing over my chair, watching me like a bird.

I peered up at him. "Yes, Mr. Spock?"

"It is dinnertime. Come!" I stood and walked with him off the bridge.

I hope to walk with him always.

~ end ~ P>
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