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The young captain had arrived late the night before, getting off a transport between Cuccagna and New Vulcan. This time he had sent a message ahead, asking Spock if he could spend the Enterprise’s shore leave time with him. Spock had set out fresh towels, pajamas and a robe and had made the bed with fresh sheets before his arrival. He had also made sure that the guest bathroom was stocked with the toiletries he presumed he would appreciate since his Jim had used them. They had only spoken briefly--Spock could tell that his guest was tired and did not want to keep him from a well-deserved rest.
That morning, Spock had risen two hours and thirty four minutes before the first sounds from the guest room started. He had been catching up on correspondence to other Vulcans who were also serving on the counsel to re-found the Vulcan Science Academy. Spock had been somewhat surprised when the position had been offered to him considering that he had--somewhat infamously--never attended the original institution. But his time as an instructor at Starfleet in his own universe had given him insight into the running of a multi-species institution of higher learning and the leaders of New Vulcan believed that the Vulcan Science Academy would have to be open to at least some non-Vulcan students and instructors if it wanted to have a sufficient number of students to once again become a premier research institution.
Or at least they believed so in theory. Most illogically, actually getting them to agree to any accommodations for non-Vulcan students or professors, such as a dormitory with individual temperature controls, was proving to be difficult. Even more so the suggestion that the Academy allow visiting non-Vulcan scholars and teachers to introduce pedagogical techniques not traditionally used on Vulcan. Spock decided that he would leave his draft message unsent for now. Spock could hear the young captain had finished his shower and entered his kitchen. Perhaps after spending some time with his guest he would attain some clarity with regard to how to frame the usefulness of such measures in a way that would best convince his colleagues.
Spock emerged from the room which he used as an office into the kitchen. This Jim was wearing the pajamas that Spock had provided and had found Spock’s stovetop espresso pot and had just set it on the burner when Spock entered. He turned to Spock with a look of unabashed amusement. “Just like your grandmother used to make, huh Spock?”
“Indeed, my maternal grandmother used such a device.”
“The more time I spend around you, the more I think the other Spock knows more about human culture than he lets on.”
“That may be true. But remember I have spent a great deal of time living among humans. You cannot assume that I would have had the same familiarity at his age.”
“Well, if this is something you learned to use visiting your human grandmother, it is probably something he knows about too. But just the other day he acted like he’d never heard of fried pickles.”
Spock paused before answering. He had been truthful. His grandmother had used a moka pot to make espresso, claiming that it was superior to replicator espresso. But he had never had an interest in “getting the hang of it” until he had started spending time with his Jim. It had given him pleasure to perform small tasks for Jim such as making him coffee in the morning, and he had known that Jim appreciated the difference in taste between replicator coffee and traditionally made espresso. And so he had perfected his technique, and surprised his Jim one morning. Jim had been rather demonstrative in showing his appreciation that day.
But it would not do to let himself slip into a reverie at this moment, while the Jim of this universe was looking at him, expecting Spock to continue with the “light banter” that they had been engaging in.
“You were a fried pickle evangelist in my universe as well.”
The young captain smiled at him. “Darn right.”
Spock sat at the table in his kitchen and watched his guest prepare breakfast. He was not too proud to acknowledge that at his age he could appreciated being waited on.
“Thank you Jim,” Spock said when a plate of replicated home fries and a Vulcan plant-based protein were placed in front of him.
“It’s the least I can do--you put up with me crashing here whenever we’re dock near New Vulcan.” Jim said as he sat across the table.
“It is no imposition. Truly.”
“Please tell me if you’d like me to get out of your hair today. You don’t have to entertain me the whole time. Senior officers aren’t returning from shore leave for another five days.”
“I do not have enough hair in which you could hide. In any case, I enjoy your company. As I said, I spent most of my life among humans, and sometimes living in an entirely Vulcan society I find that it is helpful to my mental processes to interact with humans, despite their illogical ways. Of course, I would expect that you would need more to do than spending your time with an old man. I can suggest some new points of interest in town.”
Spock had been surprised that the young captain had not chosen to stay on Cuccagna where the Enterprise was docked and where most of the crew would remain for shore leave. But like other times the Enterprise had docked at or near New Vulcan, he had chosen to stay as Spock’s guest. Happily cooking and gardening with Spock and hiking and rock climbing in the nearby hills.
“I will check it out. But honestly it’s nice to just take it easy during shore leave.”
“Decision fatigue is to be expected of a person in your position Jim.”
“That’s the truth.”
___________________________________________________________
They settled into an easy co-existence over the next few days. They traded cooking duties. Jim exercised and explored that area of New Vulcan and helped Spock in his garden. They did not discuss Jim’s personal relationship with his counterpart, or lack thereof. Jim read Spock’s copy of A Tale of Two Cities. To Spock’s surprise, it was evidently the first time.
Between that and Jim’s request that Spock teach him chess, Spock was very aware that this man, although he shared many traits with Spock’s Jim, was a different person. Even his appearance was distinct. This Jim Kirk had developed a marked preference for aerobic exercise. His Jim had spent most of his time in the gym lifting weights, with the occasional sparring or martial arts practice (although both had an affinity for rock climbing.Two different men in many respects. But in some ways, they were identical. For example their biological makeup meant that they smelled the same.
___________________________________________________________
Jim Kirk was leaving for the Enterprise soon. He had put his belongings into his bag that morning and they were spending a last lunch together.
Jim finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “That was good. Thanks ambassador.”
Spock nodded in acknowledgment.
“I’m going to miss this,” continued Jim.
“You would miss the Enterprise more,” said Spock.
“Do you ever miss it?” asked Jim.
“Of course. But the opportunity to help the Vulcan culture establish itself here certainly keeps me sufficiently occupied.”
He helped Spock to clear the table and picked up his bag. They said their goodbyes, and this Jim loaded his luggage into the vehicle waiting outside.
“I’ll send you souvenirs!” he shouted as the vehicle pulled away from Spock’s home.
Spock stood in the doorway and watched his guest ride away. Once Jim had disappeared over the horizon, Spock entered the house and immediately strode towards the guest room. Jim’s bed was made, a habit of starfleet. The robe he had used was hung on a knob by the door for that purpose. The pajamas were folded on the chair.
It was fascinating, Spock thought, that scent was the most difficult of the senses for him to recall yet the exposure to a scent could trigger a flood of memories and emotions. While he could recall the details of verbal or visual memories stored with his eidetic memory by consciously focusing on the memory, nothing brought on the same visceral impact in the same way that smelling a familiar scent did. He understood that this was a common experience for humans and had been been documented in studies and explained by the neurology of the human brain. Vulcans had not conducted any studies on the topic, as far as Spock was aware. Human and Vulcan brain structure with respect to processing the senses was similar, however, and so he theorized that it was the case for full-blooded Vulcans as well.
Spock removed his outer robe and climbed into the bed, getting under the covers the young captain had just neatly put in place. He pulled the sheets over his head and turned his face into the pillow, inhaling deeply.
Jim.
Spock focused as if he were about to begin a session of meditation. But instead of emptying his thoughts he let his memories come unbidden to his consciousness.
Jim’s bed on the Enterprise during their first mission, the two of them sharing the narrow space, Jim’s arms around Spock and his face pressed to Spock’s back. Jim's even breathing in his ear.
Spock returning to their bed in San Francisco with two cups of coffee, Jim wearing his reading glasses to view his padd. The feel of Jim's naturally curly hair between Spock's fingers.
Camping near the grand canyon with only the quiet noises of animals and insects, watching Jim sleep by the moonlight that came through a mesh screen in the tent.
Some luxury hotel at some conference in some Beta Quadrant planet, and slow morning sex.
Fortunately Spock had only begun to focus on that memory and had not developed a noticeable erection when he was jolted back into the present by the sound of the door opening.
“Hey. Fuck. Sorry!”
Spock’s eyes flew open and he sat up suddenly. The Jim Kirk of this universe was standing in the door. They looked at each other in silence for what felt like an eternity but was only 4.3 seconds before Spock spoke.
“It’s not . . . you, it’s . . .”
“Him.”
“Yes.”
“We smell the same?”
“Yes.”
Suddenly, this Jim started to laugh. “Oh man, and like, here I was thinking is was weird that it wasn’t weird you know? Like, ever since I told Bones about what I saw in the meld, he gives me a hard time about visiting you. Like, isn’t it weird we’re both in love a different version of the other, and I’m like, ‘no, it’s not’ but it kind of is but I thought it was just me and we never talk about it?”
“That’s . . . ”
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to say you’re being weird, I just . . . ”
“No, Jim, I was . . . being completely illogical and ‘weird.'”
“Right, but like, it’s fine. I . . . shit. I came back because I forgot my running shoes. I’m cutting it close to the time the transport leaves for Cuccagna.”
Jim darted across the room and found the aforementioned shoes behind a chair.
“Seriously, it’s fine. I’ll see ya!”
And with that he was gone and Spock was left alone again.
___________________________________________________________
Spock was relieved when this universe’s Jim resumed their normal correspondence like nothing had happened. He had worried that their friendship, which he truly treasured for its own sake, would be strained, but it appeared not. Or at least this Jim was not bothered. Spock found that it was difficult to put himself in the mentor role when he had been seen in such an undignified state, but he knew that that feeling was illogical. Despite the revelation of his particular eccentricity, Spock knew that his guidance had a positive effect on the captain's mental well-being and so he put his uncomfortableness aside.
Approximately two minutes and forty seconds into their first video call since the incident, Spock had forgotten it entirely, as the captain recounted his most recent misadventure with typical gusto. And Jim gave no indication that he was dwelling on the incident for the first few weeks following. Spock believed that they had returned to the equilibrium of before.
Five weeks and three days after Jim had left his home, Spock received another call from Jim. Jim wanted to discuss some recent challenges between crew members. Like his counterpart, this Jim was bothered by conflict between his people. Near the end of the call, Jim paused, as if here were debating whether to say whatever it was he was considering saying. Then with a smile but a hint of unusual hesitation he asked, “Hey, did you receive the package I sent you?”
“No, I have not received anything.”
“Oh, okay.”
“If you are concerned that it has become lost in transit, I can inform you when I receive it.”
“Uh, well, it’s fragile, I wanted to make sure it didn’t break.”
The next day it arrived. He recalled as he carried it inside that Jim had mentioned sending him a “souvenir.” An often illogical human custom. Spock thought back to the call. Spock surmised that Jim was anxious to see Spock’s reaction, which Spock found puzzling.
Spock opened the box. Jim had indeed sent him a delicate item made of a crystal-like substance carved into the shape of a native fauna of the planet from which it had come. There was a small note explaining this. And, as packing material, was a standard issue cotton Starfleet t-shirt. One could attribute the fact that it was unwashed to carelessness. But Spock knew that this Jim, although he affected a careless attitude at times, was far from careless. A suspicion that was confirmed when Spock received additional, regular souvenirs from Jim, always fragile and pack in a similar fashion with similar packing material.