The BLTS Archive - On The Edge
by Chikadie

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Hi everyone. First ASCEM post. Nice to meet you.

Inspiration: Some posts ago, on the theme of slash onscreen, there was
a lot  of speculation on what *really* happened in The City on the
Edge of Forever,  concerning a certain equipment-covered bed. I
haven't seen TCOTEOF for a  while, so forgive me if I fuck up.

Vignette. No sex. Angst. Anyone who wants to take this ball (npi) and
run with  it, please do so -- I'd like to read it. Archive okay. I
don't own em.  Paramount does.

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James Kirk took his waking slow. It was very warm, and the warmth was
coming from something broad and solid pressed against his chest and
belly.

Warmth?

*Heat*...

Jim pressed closer, lazily snaking one arm across the body in his bed.
He loved waking this way, hated waking alone. Sometimes, when he took
a woman, he'd have the leisure of waking beside her and it was this
aspect of his conquests that gave him the most pleasure.

Exhaling softly, he pressed his face against the soft skin. Nuzzled it
it. Pressed his lips against it, tongue flicking out to sample this
one's taste.

Salt.

Then there was a sound from the street outside, the body moved in his
arms, and at that instant he knew where he was. *When* he was.

And who he was with.

He froze. Next to him Spock pulled away, disentangled himself from his
captain's arms, his legs -- Dear God, he had been draped over the
half-Vulcan  -- and rose from the bed. Jim watched the slim figure as
he silently turned and headed for the bathroom. Presently he heard
the water running.

The water ran for a eternity of anxiety.

He was still frozen, eyes squeezed shut, trying to determine a way to
apologize  -- Vulcans hate to be touched! he screamed at himself --
when Spock returned. He heard the soft footfalls approach and stop
beside the bed.

"Captain?" softly. And then, "Are you awake?"

Thank god. Thank god. Jim had the presence of mind to open his eyes
slowly and say, in much of his normal voice as possible, "I am now."

"I had endeavored not to waken you. But it is now eight hundred hours,
and there is much to be done."

He met the half-Vulcan's impossibly dark eyes. Was it possible? had he
not noticed...? "Right," he said aloud and rolled himself out of
bed, avoiding the other's gaze as he headed for the shower, trying
not to look as if he were hurrying. "No rest for the weary," he
added, to make things seem even more normal and closed the door
behind him.

Behind him, in the small room, the Vulcan sat down heavily on the
narrow  bed. Allowed his hand to rest for a minute where the blanket
was still warm from Jim's body, then pulled away and steepled his
fingers before him.

He had been weak not to have forseen the consequences of using one of
the two beds as a workbench. The previous afternoon, he had looked up
to find himself trapped:  he could not move what he had constructed or
risk losing the day's work. And there was only one bed left. He had
been chagrined to see his own subconscious so riotous in his actions.

He had further erred when he insisted that Jim take the bed. "The
floor will be satisfactory for me," he had said.

"Spock, you're being difficult," Kirk had replied, exasperated.
"We'll share the bed, or I'll take the floor. You need to rest as
well. You won't be able to function without sleep."

Spock would have told him he was sounding like the Doctor they were
here to rescue except that Jim had chosen that moment to add, "Your
work is important, Spock. I'm depending on you."

He had told himself that nothing would happen. And he had, indeed,
mastered himself for the night. It had been Jim who had slipped. And,
in the end, it did not matter after all.

Had Jim known what he was doing? Presumably not. Spock silently
calculated the odds, weighing the silk of Jim's lips on the skin of
his shoulder against total past behavior, and decided he could not
have known. A dream? Some kind of disorientation? Mere instinct?
If he had dropped his mindshields at the time, or if he were to ask,
now, he'd know, but he would do neither. It was better not to speak
of it in any case. Better not to risk exposure.

Aloud he said, "I am a fraud." His voice sounded flat in the small
room.

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The End