Caught in a Dream

 

Caught in a Dream

by Shenkai

Pairings: Spock & Kirk, Spock & Chapel

Authors Notes: Spoiler for Star Trek Ep. Requiem for Methuselah & The Savage Curtain

Caught in a Dream: the sequel to Forget

Captain James T. Kirk raised his head from where it lay on his desk, resting on his hands as if they were a pillow. He was a little sore and stiff, from having slept there all night, and for a moment he was more than a little confused. The Enterprise? The ship had been so quiet before, since the majority of its occupants had succumbed to the Rigellian Fever. During his sleep, however, the ship seemed to spring fully back to life.

“Bridge to Captain Kirk….” The summons called him out of his stupor.

“Kirk here,” he replied, pushing the button to open communications with his newest yeoman. What was her name again?

“Dr. McCoy requests your presence in Sick Bay.”

“Tell him I’m on my way.” He stifled a yawn, his body still craving a rest that sleeping on your desk could not provide. “And let Spock know he is in command until I return.”

“Mr. Spock is not on the bridge, Sir. Mr. Scott is in command.”

Spock, not on the bridge? The thought was enough to drive the rest of the cobwebs out of his mind. “Did the Doctor call for Mr. Spock, too?”

“No Sir. Mr. Spock didn’t report for duty this morning. Will there be anything else?”

“I’ll let you know when I’m on my way to the bridge so you can have the coffee ready.”

 

Chapter One: Oubliettes and White Rabbits

Kirk was more than a little curious as to the unusual behavior from his first officer this morning. He contemplated the possible motives for this illogical behavior as he showered and changed to meet Bones in sick bay. He was pretty sure that the meeting this morning was about the good doctor’s report on the ship-wide Rigellian Fever outbreak, and the reports on the Ryetallin usage.

The Ryetallin… There was something else he was supposed to include on his report. Where had they gotten it from? He vaguely remembered a blonde haired woman and her guardian. What was her name? She wasn’t real, and now she was gone. Dead. But he’d probably build another one.

Rayna. Her name came to him as he pulled on his last boot. With a grunt, he shoved his foot in the rest of the way, stomping his feet as he got up, leaving the peace of his quarters to face the day.

 

“As I’m sure Mr. Spock told you, Flint is dying. He’s no longer in the elements that had been keeping him alive, and has decided to spend what is left of his life trying to help others.” Dr. Leonard McCoy said, as a way to start his briefing with the captain.

“I haven’t seen Mr. Spock, yet. I thought he’d be here with you.” Kirk looked around the room, noting a few medical personnel around, nothing out of the ordinary, except Nurse Chapel, who was more than a little on edge.

He led the captain to his office, so they could be alone. “No. I gave him my report while you were sleeping. I figured it could wait, so I didn’t wake you. I figured you needed time, given what happened on the planet. That was my other motivation for calling you. How are you feeling today?”

“You must be talking about Rayna. I’m fine. She’s gone, but then she wasn’t really real, so I’ll manage.”

Leonard looked at his friend incredulously. “That green-blooded son of a bitch.[i] What did he do to you?”

“What do you mean, Bones?” Jim seemed very puzzled by the doctor’s anger.

“I mean that yesterday you were hardly functional. You lost your head about that girl and now she’s like a footnote to the report. You loved her, Jim.”

“And I still do. But she’s gone now, and I have to move on. She’s not the first. She won’t be the last.” He reached for the memory disk still in the doctor’s hand. “I’ll add this to my report. Now if that is everything, I’d like to get to the bridge.”

“Fine. But remind Spock that he is supposed to stop in now that the crisis is over for his checkup.”

 

Jim left sickbay with only one destination in mind, Spock’s quarters. If he was truthful with himself, he’d admit that it was is original destination when he heard his newest yeoman say that the Vulcan half-breed wasn’t on the bridge. He had some questions, yes. But more it was the haunting dream he had during the night that disturbed him. He thought he heard—no he was very sure he heard Spock tell him that he loved him. And though it was most likely just a dream, he knew he had answered Spock’s pledge with one of his own, that such feelings were reciprocated.

He arrived at the room, the door was locked shut, and the sound of Spock’s harp could be heard within. He knocked, but was not granted access, receiving instead a very uncharacteristic and emotional demand to go away.

“Spock, either you let me in, or I’ll use my authority to override the lock on the door and let myself in.” He was being childish, and knew that he looked like a groom that had been locked out of his maiden bride’s chamber. The thought, once he realized its connotations, made him laugh. The mind is quick to jump from admiration to love, from love to marriage… to the carnal pleasures that are found within such an institution. It had to be a quote from some old philosopher or romantic[ii].

The door slid open, startling Jim from his reverie. Spock was alone in the red curtained room, his harp on his lap, strumming wistfully away as if deep in thought somewhere else. “Come in. It is illogical for you to be standing in the doorway gawking, just as it was illogical for you to make such a meaningless threat. You have been standing outside my door for some time now. I wondered if you had forgotten how to override the door.”

The door slid closed behind him and locked once again, distracting the captain from evaluating the status of his first officer. Spock seemed unfazed by his presence, and just kept playing his harp.

“Spock, we need to talk,” he said. His eyes roamed the room, looking at the décor as if he had never seen it before. His mind however was focused on the song, the waltz from the planet. Without thinking about it, he began to hum it while swaying to the music. It was intoxicating, and just as his mind was about to supply him with an imaginary dance partner, the music stopped.

“No, Captain, we do not. At this point, there is nothing left to say. I am sure that McCoy has filled you in about the situation on the planet, I have nothing to add. In light of recent events, I am taking a day of rest. I will resume my regular duties tomorrow.” The Vulcan had risen from his seat, resting the harp in the place he had just vacated. He now stood in front of his captain, forcing the man to look at him.

Jim’s eyes went wide. He’d seen Spock out of uniform before, but not quite this out of uniform, except for the time when they had both been beaten, but his was far different. His first officer was only wearing his black uniform pants, obviously having come to the decision to not report for duty in the middle of getting ready. His eyes slowly coursed down Spock’s well toned form. The pants, upon closer inspection were sculpted to his frame, showing the contours of his legs and leaving hardly anything to the imagination.

Jim returned his gaze to his first officer’s face, and saw he had raised his eyebrow, as if questioning his captain’s behavior. “Have you come just to intrude upon my solitude?”

The deep, velvet voice washed over Jim like the radiant heat from the campfires of his youth, warming and calming. “I had a dream. Last night. You were in it. I. I had to be sure… make sure… that you were alright.” Jim said, raising a hand to cup his first officer’s face.

“Did I die in this dream?” Spock asked, even as the captain’s other hand was brought up and now both framed his face.

Jim ignored the question. He was too absorbed in memorizing every detail of the Vulcan’s face. The dark, inquisitive eyes, the proud nose, the inexplicable pink lips that, in his mind, should have been greener due to the blood coursing through the Vulcan’s veins. Did Spock wear lipstick? Subconsciously, he was moving closer, and now he could feel the heat radiating between them, the subtle sway as Spock breathed.

“Are you going to kiss me?” His eyes now focused on the Vulcan’s lips, the copper pink lips, which parted under his gaze in anticipation.

Am I going to kiss him? It would be so easy. He looked up at the dark eyes, vaguely aware they were different somehow. “You said you loved me.”

Spock blinked, trying to regain his composure as he looked into his Captain’s blue eyes. “You said you loved me, too.”

“Not a dream?”

Spock surged forward, arms wrapping around his Captain, crushing their bodies together even as their mouths joined in a fierce passion, ignited by desires that had been too long denied.

Obviously, he was not a woman. Hard and strong, Spock was most definitely not a woman, nonetheless, Jim clung to the slightly taller form that held him. Moving his arms to wrap around his first officer’s neck, he parted his lips more, granting his comrade more access to his mouth, giving up his control. Their tongues mated and danced, sending sensations throughout each man, shocking them.

“Bridge to Captain Kirk.” Uhura’s voice broke the silence of the room.

Ignored. After a few seconds, it came back, a little more insistent. “Bridge to Captain Kirk. Respond please.”

They broke the kiss, and Kirk gave a breathless reply.

Undaunted, Spock began to trail kisses down his jaw line to his earlobe, drawing it between his teeth, while his hands moved lower still, drawing Jim’s body up to mold against him. Oblivious to the rest of the ship, and only focusing on this one, all-consuming feeling… and in this one emotion, his logical mind was silenced.

He sought to feel flesh against flesh, his hands now being assisted in this by Jim’s, drawing the captain’s shirt over his head. “Jim,” Spock said, gruffly, pulling him once again into his arms, initiating another kiss.

Jim pulled away from the kiss, searching the Vulcan’s face, trying to figure everything out. “I’m needed on the bridge?” He sounded hesitant and unsure, like he loathed to go but didn’t know if he truly wanted to stay.

“Jim, go if you must.” The words left his lips, even as Spock moved in to reclaim the captain’s mouth.

“Sick bay to Mr. Spock.”

Duty won the battle in the captain’s mind, and he pulled away from Spock’s embrace. “I am needed on the bridge, and you are needed in sick bay.” He reached down and picked up his discarded shirt. “We will discuss this,” he gestured between the two of them, “later.”

Spock watched as rationale took over the captain’s form. Logic came back to the front of his mind as he watched Jim get back into uniform. “Jim. Forgive me. I never meant for…”

The captain silenced him with a chaste kiss. “You were never going to tell me. I understand. It is illogical, irrational, and quite human.”

“I see no need to insult me for loving you. I was simply apologizing for last night’s invasion of privacy.” Spock looked saddened by his next words. “And for robbing you of your grief.”

“That’s easily forgiven and forgotten. You just gave me perspective on my grief for Rayna.” He smiled, remembering a little more with each mention of her name. “And besides, you left me enough clues to find her, if I wanted to.”