Calm as the rock upon which I stand, I watch them
fight. My beautiful golden alien rolls through the
dust, wrestling with this demon of his past. The sight
makes my human blood delirious, straining heavily
against Vulcan control. In the flush of battle, his
animal side emerges, exhilarating me.
Plagues of Egypt
A Kirk/Spock drabble series by Farfalla. NO disrespect intended. Some of these drabbles are meant for adult
eyes only, so tread cautiously.
He approaches me. Knowing the answer, I ask, "Did you
enjoy it?" For a moment, I imagine kissing him, his
raw physicality bruising me.
But logically, this is not the time. His smile
trickles blood, which I have no desire to taste. I
will embrace instead my gentle captain, later.
"Yum," Jim said, lifting his lips momentarily from
Spock's upper thigh. "Frog's legs."
Spock raised his eyebrow mid-writhe. "Why have I been
labeled a frog?"
"Well, frogs are very special." Jim nuzzled smooth
skin with his nose. "Fish can only live in the water,
because they breathe through gills. And lizards can
only live on the land, because they can't swim. But
Spock understood. "You are referring to my dual
"You're neither a fish nor a lizard, Spock. You're
your own special animal. You know what? I think it's
my favorite animal."
Then he groped Spock's tad pole.
"I've had... some of the greener crewmen expect shore
leaves to be all about picking up a hot date with a
strange alien woman," Kirk bitched. "The first time I
tried anything like that as a lieutenant, I had a date
the *next* night with my fingernails and a bottle of
"Perhaps you are lucky that was the only souvenir you
were left with."
"That's why Starfleet encourages its crews to seek
romance... within the ship. Makes us more like a
family. The relationships are healthier, and they're
"Picnic in the conservatory?"
I am the captain of a starship, a crew of hundreds at
my command. But I, myself, am commanded by one sharp
sound--the grate of an opening zipper.
Since my years in the Academy, that sound signals
sweetest pleasure. It means I am about to encounter
another's pure, unleashed masculinity, ready to be
touched by any part of my body--my fingers, my lips,
my stomach, my face. My physical reaction is utterly
Pavlovian--I tremble, my skin tingles, and I throb to
hardness in seconds.
Now Spock holds the key to my secret, and he unzips my
At the Omicron Ceti colony, we learned that the livestock had been
gone for quite some time. They had not, as I'd first supposed, fallen
prey to some alien disease, but had instead been felled by nothing
less familiar than the pestilence of human idleness--and neglect.
"This Side of Paradise"
Like a disease, it spread and infected first the humans of the colony,
and then those humans on board my ship.
Not only the humans, my broken heart reminds me.
After all the nutters I've been in love with, I never expected to lose
my sane, rational, logical Spock to that particular pestilence.
They are on shore leave, spending a week alone in a rustic cabin. Spock has just put the kettle on when Jim attacks him with a mouthful of kisses. Spock barely gasps out a warning about the teapot before he is pulled down and ransacked like a bucket of Halloween candy.
"We've got time for a quickie!" Jim pants, before stuffing Spock's hard-on into his mouth.
Minutes later, with Spock thrusting between his thighs, Spock's right hand wrapped around his dick, and Spock's left thumb stuck up his ass, Jim boils over--as does the teapot.
They are equally shrill.
Logically, ice should physically relieve the torment of burning skin. I press the ice pack against my molten body. When it does me no good I rip the frozen pieces from their packaging and rub them against my skin so hard it bruises flesh.
No use. Blindly I stumble into the shower and demand cold water, thankful that only a computer hears my request and will not ask why I choose water rather than sonics for a change or why I am still fully clothed.
Only when he enters my shower and caresses my dripping hair does the inferno cease.
"They were like the locusts of Africa," Spock commented, "devouring everything. They would have eventually destroyed the ship."
"The Trouble With Tribbles"
"Have you ever *seen* locusts, Mr. Spock?" Uhura moped. "Tribbles are *nothing* like locusts. Locusts swarm in the air like a storm until you can't breathe, stealing your family's livelihood while you hide under the bed..."
Spock hadn't realized his statement would dredge up a painful memory, but he hoped his next action would atone. "I have brought you a more suitable pet."
He placed the little creature into her arms and a smile bloomed across her face. "Oh, Spock! A kitten!"
As a cadet in San Francisco, Spock watched his first solar eclipse with intellectual reverence. The moonless skies of Vulcan had never provided the opportunity to view his own planet's shadow.
"The Voyage Home"
Thirty years later, he and his bondmate stood at the peak of Mt. Tam, watching the world grow dim. In a way, it was once more Spock's first solar eclipse--in his new body.
The moon approached the sun until they joined, the sun's brilliance flaring gold around its calm, perfect body. Jim squeezed Spock's hand, murmuring, "I love you."
The corona glowed, like the world's largest wedding ring.
Sam's gone. Sam's gone, and his oldest son's gone, and his wife, and
even his baby boy, who I'd never met. All I've got left is Peter--and Mom.
Death of the Firstborn
Sam was Mom's joy. She always wondered why I never found someone,
settled down, started a family like he did.
Maybe now I will--now that I've found someone special enough to care
for as intensely as I do for Spock. And maybe someday, my mother will
come to love him as much as I do.
He can't replace Sam, but maybe we can give her and Peter a new family.