#-capability to communicate and commiserate with others and comfort each other in times of need

[1o1percentmilk]

i dont want to write my ethics essay what if my prof thinks it's cringe

[badrpstories]

Words alone seem insufficient to express the importance of good communication between muns. Nevertheless, I shall make an attempt in sharing this little story. Disclaimer: there’s nothing lurid or inflammatory here. No fictional sex and violence, no controversy bait. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing triggering…just a mention of mental illness and I think there’s a metaphor that involves drowning but, that’s about it. It’s not even remarkably bad. Just sad. So, if you’re hoping for something scandalous, you’ve been forewarned.

Several months ago, I lost an rp partner that I considered a friend. It’s been long enough for me to be capable of writing this but not long enough for me to be truly over it. I’m writing this because the reason I am still not over it is that I don’t know how much of that loss was my own fault and my behavior in response to that loss has probably ensured that I will never know.

Prior to starting threads we spent a couple months chatting, as often as every other day to once or twice a week. Skimming over the chat log to confirm that frequency reopens and rubs salt into old wounds. 

Then, after we started threading, just a few replies in, they went MIA. No heads up, no indication of any problems, they just vanished. This wasn’t their first disappearing act. Roughly a year before this they had done something similar, albeit under different circumstances. 

With the exception of this ghostly behavior, they were everything I could hope for in an RP partner and, from all I knew of them, I very much liked them as a person and would have liked to count them as a friend. Their other partners seemed like a good group of people that I’d be happy to interact with as well. Since I have very limited free time for RP I’m understanding of others in that situation; I’m also very particular (probably a little peculiar), and perhaps more selective than I’ve a right to be, or have admitted to being in the past. I’m a choosy beggar. So, when they resurfaced and reached out to see if I wanted to write with them again I was elated. I was also very concerned that I might have caused or contributed to their previous disappearance. They assured me I had not, that I’d done nothing wrong. They explained what had happened before and insisted that they’d be sticking around this time.

Had they seemed less available, or less enthused, during those two months before we started writing, had they not been initiating chats and responding so quickly, it would have been different. There should have been a better discussion about future activity expectations. At one point they remarked ‘even if we can only do one reply a week each’ (something to that effect) and that sounded perfectly reasonable to me.

The last time I heard from them all seemed well. I messaged them a little over a week later, after I’d posted replies, just to inform them of some technical issues I was having. When another week had gone by without hearing from them I was starting to get worried. I expressed my concerns and said I would appreciate hearing from them, even if they were unable to reply on threads, just to know everything was okay. Early on, when we were chatting, they had offered their cell number. I didn’t take them up on it. I’m careful with my personal info, it felt too soon and, while I certainly don’t like to be left hanging, I didn’t want them to feel like I needed to keep tabs on them. I was fine with tumblr being our only point of contact.

Six weeks went by with no sign of them. Logically, I knew it was possible that something had come up, that real life might have overwhelmed them. It wasn’t as if they were actively RPing with others but, then again, they could have been on other blogs I didn’t know of, so I couldn’t really take anything from that. I also know that for most in rp, six weeks of zero contact would be considered a sure sign that the other mun is not interested. I know there are those who will simply ghost others they no longer wish to interact with, some openly admit to it.

I was starting to dissect our OOC exchanges and second guessing everything, looking for anything I might have done wrong, anything that might have been misinterpreted and taken wrong. I would never claim to be perfect in any way but I couldn’t come up with anything that, when weighed against all of our OOC talks, would seem to warrant them having a serious issue with me. Before their disappearance they’d had me feeling confident that they were comfortable discussing any problems, but after all that time without so much as a quick im or psa post it seemed increasingly unlikely. I was now too nervous and shy to even consider reaching out to their other partners.

Mental illness should never be used as an excuse. I’m not including this next part to garner sympathy, only to state facts. I did go through a period of wanting sympathy and commiseration but that’s not the purpose here, this is for explanation. By the end of that sixth week my anxiety had taken over and I was drowning in a whirlpool of mixed emotions, swinging between worry over their well-being, remorseful self-flagellation and bitter, resentful resignation. Yes, I know: It is only a hobby. It is ONLY fucking RP. But I could not simply shut the feelings off and repeating that mantra to myself, reminding myself how irrational and insignificant this all was only added new layers of misery. I tried to distract myself. I wanted to do the intelligent thing and move on, find some sort of victory in happiness with other partners but, I couldn’t think about RP at all without circling back around to this: Where had I gone so wrong? 

What if I unwittingly make the same mistakes again?

What if I approach another potential partner or group and accidentally come across them on a different account? Will they think I’m stalking them? Should I just stay away from anything remotely similar?

What if I totally misjudged them from the very beginning?

At the risk of sounding really melodramatic, the worst of it was the feeling of being unable to accurately gauge another’s attitude and intentions, the fear that there is something fundamentally flawed in my perception of other people. But that is something I’ve struggled with a long time, in real life, due to experiences.

Desperate for answers, I went trawling the cesspool of salt and confessions, sifting through and inspecting every possible explanation, from the petty and absurd to the grave and severe. There I came upon things that seemed, to my stress addled brain, sure signs confirming my fears and suspicions. Maybe I was right. I’ll never know, and that just might be due to what I chose to do next.

There are more details. There always are, right? There’s more to the story that might give a little more insight but, those might be too revealing, for both of us involved. This is no call-out and those details aren’t critical to the purpose. However, given those details, my state of mind, the history, the timing, all of our previous discussions and traded reassurances, their actions felt almost punitive and mocking, as if they had done this to ensure I’d never even want to interact with them again. So, I sent a curt im and soft-blocked them.

I can still remember the feeling of my fingertip hovering over that block button as it wavered, through tear-blurred vision, in time with my pulse. The guilt was instantaneous. But I didn’t stop there, oh no! I did the same with a mutual-mutual because they were partners first so of course that person wouldn’t want anything to do with me either. I had intended that to be the end of it. I didn’t even stick to my own resolution. I later sent a lengthy rant expressing my hurt and frustration, chiding them for not having the courage to give me a simple, honest, clear rejection. Over the following months I became increasingly convinced of mistakes I had made early on. In random moments of weakness I would message again, attempting to apologize for these errors, although I was still hurt by the fact that they’d never mentioned any problem (assuming there was one to begin with). Eventually, I deleted our threads, changed my url, essentially shut down. Ultimately, I came to terms with the fact that my own behavior had turned toxic. I should have just quietly walked away after a month of no contact. Instead, all I’d done had achieved nothing but piling wrong upon wrong. I messaged again, trying to apologize for that.

I’ve never seen a trace of them since the last time we spoke so many months ago. I have been told they are alive and more or less well, I’m not sure whether or not I should believe everything I’ve heard. Now and then, I worry that there was some wild misunderstanding, or maybe some bizarre glitch. More worrying is the possibility that their real life circumstances actually have been difficult enough to keep them from ever logging on at all for all this time. But I don’t really think any of that is plausible, more like some sort of twisted wishful thinking that only makes me feel worse. It wouldn’t make me feel worse if I hadn’t reacted like I did and now it’s the only reason I haven’t completely gotten over this, because I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone, I never intended to hurt them. As hurtful as what I did do may have been, I was only able to because I believed they did not care at all. But I know that does not make it right, or healthy, regardless of whatever the facts about their disappearance may be. 

So, if you ever find yourself in a similar place, as difficult as it may be, try to avoid making the same mistakes I did. Do not block. Don’t even soft-block. Just drop it and try to forget. Vent anonymously if you must. Try not to say anything you might ever, ever regret. Don’t screw yourself out of the chance to walk away with a clean conscience.

[iwannabeabadrobot]

Ooooooh, Burn

It was so peaceful. There were no hums or beeps or alarms. Nobody was hailing her. All she could hear was the gentle rustling of a breeze through the tall trees she'd made the night before. The only thing missing was birds. That's how it would be on Earth. Melodious chirping. But this wasn't Earth. This place didn't even have a name. It had a classification: M.

Uhura laughed to herself at the thought that when she was done with it they'd have to add a new, 'U' classification, just so they could define what she'd done to it. She stared up through the branches of the tree to the lavender sky. She could decipher the sound of each leaf's brush against the others.

Next to her, Leonard was dead to the world, his heavy arm tucked protectively around her. His thumb pressed between two of her ribs. She leaned over to the crook between his jaw and neck and ran the tip of her nose along it, inhaling his smell. It was sweet and clean. He smelled like a doctor.

They were both wet. Soaked with sweat. It was hot here. Hotter than Earth. She wondered if they were in winter or summer. It didn't matter. She could build a mountain around them if it got too hot.

It was so easy. Everything here was so easy.

Wasn't that what she'd wanted? She thought so- but that was before. Before she had been elevated. Her eyes were open now. She could really see. She could see what was happening, how it was happening, and how it was changing every little moment. Thank goodness she didn't have to deal with cognitive disinhibition, or she'd go insane. Kirk wouldn't have been able to deal with it. He wouldn't be able to shut down all the tiny sounds.

The sounds of cells replicating, of every instance of contact between one organism and another, every shade of color in the spectrum, every frequency on the comms at once, that was all available to her. But thankfully, she could sort out what she needed and ignore the rest.

Apparently Leonard could do the same thing. She sat up, carefully, intertwining her fingers with his and steadily moving his arm to his other side. They were more than wet. They were muddy from the soil. They were naked and dirt-smeared and comfortable and happy and in total control. Uhura could process any cognitive information right now, but the emotion this was creating- she couldn't process that.

She had to get out- get clean.

Uhura looked at the spring and the tiny pond it had formed. She needed more water than that. So she walked, naked, through the brush and down the mountain some ways, until she found a spot that looked good. She closed her eyes.

Putting her new brain to good use, she isolated each molecule, each atom, each element she needed, to put together what she wanted there. She could feel the reactions- tearing apart and bonding. It was a little scary. At any moment she could be interrupted and could destroy everything on the planet- not just the little piece of paradise- that she was constructing on a whim.

When she opened her eyes, she was in turquoise water, submerged entirely. She leapt from the floor of the new lake and rose to the surface. She gasped when she felt the heat of the air above the water, and pushed her hair back, opening her eyes.

A waterfall gushed over the mountain, leading from that tiny spring she'd left at the camp. She passed under it a few times, scrubbing at her skin with her fingernails. It had been so long since she'd swum in real water. She dived, exploring the sights underwater, watching the breath leave her body in cascades of bubbles.

After a while she got out, but didn't bother to put her uniform back on. No reason to. Who'd she have to hide from? She knew this whole planet, and the one man on it knew her.

It was so easy. That was the second time she'd thought that just today. She was bored already.

Her thoughts were drawn again to the Valiant transmitter. Leonard was right. The Enterprise was nothing to what she was capable of creating here. But. The Enterprise could take her wherever she wanted to go. It could give her power over more than one planet.

She could go back to Earth. She could fix Earth. As utopian as many members of the Federation thought it was, Earth still had its problems. She could eliminate them. She could make it perfect. A frightening, exciting thought spread through her, from her stomach to the tips of her fingers: she could make the galaxy perfect…

There next to the lake, gleaming in the sunshine, was the transmitter. It had obeyed her thoughts.

She removed the side of it and a bundle of wires spilled out. She took her time figuring out which wire was responsible for each signal. It was easy already for her, since communications were her forte. She started rewiring. The plan was to create a false signal from Starfleet, telling the Enterprise to come back and pick them up, that they needed immediate medical attention- that their powers had been a short-lived fluke.

As soon as the Enterprise was in close enough range to detect that the signal had actually been sent by the transmitter, she would be able to harness transporters and get back aboard. Once she was aboard, that would be it. She'd let them get her before, but this time they didn't have Leonard and his hyposprays to help them. She had him.

She heard a splash. She looked over the waterfall. Speaking of him. There were no animals on the planet, so it couldn't be anyone else. Leonard surfaced, silver eyes exhilarated. That broad smile. She hardly ever got to see him smile. It was a rare occurrence.

Uhura felt guilty. He could be happy here. He could live a satisfied life with her, with a planet and creation of their own. Abandonment for her was an opportunity for him.

She cared for him. He was what she would have wanted if she'd never been enlightened by that new energy in her brain. He was stable, human, his outlook had been compatible with hers. And they could commiserate like nothing else. The best way to bond was over a mutual enemy… or friend.

She jumped in the water with him. He encircled her with his arms. Their skin was slick. His lips were warm against hers. He laughed. "This is just about the best shore leave I've ever had. I might as well be dreaming."

She smiled at him and pressed her forehead against his. "Then keep dreaming."

He pulled back. "What is it?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I feel the same way." She kissed him again but he wasn't with her.

"No you don't-" he said. He was still half-smiling, still running his hands over her body, enjoying, exploring. He was so human. But his eyes were beyond her. They were on the transmitter. Shit.

"What's goin' on there?"

"Just seeing how it works, you know. Being surrounded by nature- it's- abrupt."

Leonard gulped down a mouthful of the fresh water. She could nearly see the gears turning in his head as his brow furrowed at her. He took some more and fountained it back into the lake. He shook his head.

"You know how it works. You made this, just this morning. That transmitter is Lincoln Logs to you right now."

Uhura frowned at him. She should have known that she would have to fight him on this.

"What are you doing with it?"

Uhura tried to swim away from him but he tightened his arms around her. She was flush against him. She ran her hands through his hair and wrapped her legs around his waist. But when she leaned in, he leaned back, avoiding her.

"Nooo, no. Nice try, but I'm too smart for that move now."

"Fine. I'm sending an emergency signal to the Enterprise to come pick us up."

Leonard gave her an incredulous look. "And why would they pick us up? They know we're in the throes of energy overload."

"I'm making it look like Starfleet is sending it."

He let her go now. "Ah ha. You push hard enough and you get to the heart of the matter. We can't do that, hon."

"Why do you care? Don't you know what we could do? They don't even know the power that's-"

"Thankfully, I didn't get as much juice in my brain as you do. I'm not feeling peckish for power." He immediately got out of the lake and walked towards the transmitter.

She took half a second to appreciate the view of him walking away from her, but knew that he was going to dismantle the transmitter.

"Don't."

"Don't what? I've got the Enterprise's best interests at heart."

"How do you know I don't?"

"I can only go on my guts, and my guts say not to let you do it."

"Then you don't trust me." That hurt. He'd had her, completely. He wanted her completely. And still he didn't trust that she knew what she was doing. That's because he was stupid. As smart and powerful as he now was, she was still completely alone in the universe.

He didn't answer her claim. He just gave her a look. Don't make it about this. She gave his look right back. She was daring him to touch the transmitter. He did. And as soon as he did, she sent him to his back with a bolt of light from her hands.

Ow. She should get out of the water if she was going to do this. The conduction from the water shocked badly. As she left the lake she could see steam rising from her body. Leonard coughed and looked up at her. He was afraid. Good.

"Uhura."

"You don't think we're on a first name basis, after last night?"

"Nyota, darling, dearest, sweetheart, whatever you want, with a cherry on top, please don't do this. Give it a day or two. Feel it out." He pointed at his head. "It's a trick. This power, these brains, they're an illusion. You think you can do anything but they're playing you."

Uhura laughed. "No. They're playing you. I can do anything. "

He got to his feet and went again for the transmitter. This time the light didn't come from her hands. It came from her eyes. He was on his back again, yelping in pain. He had red marks, burns from her attacks, blossoming across his white skin.

"STOP," she said.

He stared at her eyes. "How'd you do that? Can I do that?"

She blinked a few times. She felt a sharp stab of pain, of exhaustion. She put a hand to her head. "I don't- I-"

And then she felt his power. The lightning from his eyes shot down her spine and made her legs and arms numb. She fell, but wouldn't let herself stay down. She propped herself up on one arm and pushed back up to standing.

"Whew," Leonard said, rolling his eyes around. "That's a weird-"

She attacked again, this time with both hands and eyes. He struggled towards her, eyes closed firmly. He grabbed a hold of her leg. She tried to shake him but she couldn't. Her lightning sputtered out, like she'd run out of ammo.

"It's finite," he said, using Uhura to pull himself up. He faced her, looking her in the eyes. "The energy is finite. I can feel it. Can you? I think it just replaces itself too quickly for us to drain it entirely." He laughed. His white teeth shone in the sunlight. This time, his smile was a threat. He sent his light straight from his eyes into hers.

He leaned forward on her, grabbing her and holding her close. She struggled but his weight was just too much. They both fell back and rolled- down through the brush and into the lake, energy still connecting them in a beam.

Leonard was right. She could feel it. The water was coursing the energy through them, sapping it from them and burning them with it. They both screamed in pain. Uhura blacked out.

She came to. It was dark outside- or as dark as it could be with the light of the moons. She wasn't in the water. There was no water. It was like there had never been water. There was no grass. No trees. No lake. She could see nothing but dust and scrub in all directions. Her brain felt the same way. There were no growing, shifting thoughts like there had been before. She felt- cloudy.

Leonard was next to her. She checked his pulse. He was alive. They were both still naked. Leonard was badly burned. His skin shined, raw, bruised, and with dark, scary circles around his eyes. Uhura looked down at herself to discover the same.

They needed help.

She tried to create some more water. Her brain struggled. It didn't want to shift the atoms around for her. She opened one of Leonard's eyes with her thumb and index finger. The silver was gone and his eyes were green again. She saw the transmitter and ran to it. In the reflection of the metal she saw her eyes had gone brown again too… mostly. She focused, using all her energy. The transmitter lifted off the ground and moved over a few inches before dropping.

She sat down to catch her breath. Just that tiny movement had been exhausting. He had done it. He'd gotten rid of their power. She grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it at him. She hoped it hurt. He came around at that.

He inspected himself and then looked over at her. She felt ashamed. She was naked, and now crying, and she couldn't do anything anymore. All she was- was stuck here. With him.

Leonard sat up, with difficulty, and came over to her. He sat next to her and let his shoulder brush hers. She moved away.

"You've killed us."

"I couldn't let you kill them."

"Fuck you. You said you cared about me."

"Why can't I care about all of us?"

Uhura didn't have an answer. All she could do was cry. She rolled herself into a ball, hiding her exposure. It hurt her burns to do it, but at the moment, she was embracing the misery. Leonard approached again and enveloped her. He didn't say anything. That kind of helped.

Kirk tapped his foot impatiently, sitting in his chair on the bridge.

They were travelling Warp 2. They should have been travelling at Warp 5, but hell no, Kirk wasn't going to do that. He was- against his will- moving away from Bones and Uhura, but he was going to do it as slowly as he could.

It had been two days since he'd come to and they were gone. The further they got, the worse Kirk's mood became. He hadn't been eating or sleeping. He'd let the Alpha crew get their rest the past two nights but he stayed in the chair. He'd been waiting for word from Starfleet, but nothing had come. Still. It was completely unacceptable. Unprofessional. This was clearly a top priority problem. Both Uhura and Bones were heroes. Starfleet, hell, the Federation as a whole was underestimating the gravity of this.

As Kirk inwardly boiled, the rest of the crew was completely zoned out. Only Spock seemed unfazed by the lack of activity. He continued to type out his reports and scan the space around them as if their mission had been unchanged. The only indicator that he felt anything about it was that he hadn't left Kirk's side since he had woke up after the fight.

Uhura's chair had been taken by some other Ensign who knew a bunch of esoteric, whatever languages. Kirk knew he was supposed to respect and treat the new guy the same way he treated Uhura, but it was just not the same. He liked his crew. His friends. Not some random officers.

And then the Ensign spoke. "Incoming call from Starfl-"

"Put them on," Kirk interrupted. Finally.

Some Admiral he didn't know was on his screen. "Captain Kirk. In response to your first officer's reports, we are saddened by this unfortunate turn of events in your mission-"

"Saddened? I'd say it's something to be more panicked about, wouldn't you, Spock?"

He looked over his shoulder. Spock raised an eyebrow and shifted his focus to the Admiral. She cleared her throat.

"Captain, I understand your feelings of friendship towards Lieutenant Uhura and Chief Medical Officer McCoy. However, your current mission is of greater importance-"

"Of greater importance than what? Their lives? Their jobs as part of this mission?"

"If you continue to interrupt my message I will be forced to discipline you and your crew and to make a mark on your record. May I proceed, Captain Kirk?"

Kirk crossed his arms and got up. He couldn't look at her in the face. He looked across the bridge instead, pretending to listen instead of what he was really doing- fantasizing about killing her with his own hands. He felt Khan bristle inside and tried to control himself.

"You may proceed, Admiral."

"Thank you. Captain, you are to put this event behind you entirely, and to continue with 100% devotion to your current mission. Starfleet will assign a science team to research the effects of this energy field. If a solution is reached within an adequate timeframe, we will send a team to retrieve the Doctor and the Lieutenant. If not, we must accept that they be considered casualties. You knew the possibilities when you accepted this mission, Captain Kirk. Now you must continue to do your job. If you don't, we will find someone else aboard who can- and you will be put in the brig and tried for mutiny."

"How can I be tried for mutiny?! I'M THE CAPTAIN!"

But she'd already disconnected. The rest of the bridge crew stared at him, half terrified, half pissed off.

"SULU."

"Go. I've got it. I'll put us back on warp 5."

"FINE. SPOCK."

Spock followed him into the turbolift.

Spock followed Jim into his quarters. Jim closed and locked the door behind them. He punched the wall. Spock surmised this action was, like his raised voice, a reaction to the Admiral's orders.

"Jim, I apologize on behalf of the Admiral. However, the orders are-"

"If you say logical I'm going to break your nose again."

"As stimulating as I find our spars, I do not think that would be the most productive solution."

"Yeah? What would be? Going on our merry way and leaving them to die? Our friends? My best friend? Your girlfriend?"

"I am monogamous, Jim."

"They're going to die. No one's going to 'retrieve' them. They got their data. They'll spend millions on research and leave Bones and Uhura to rot. They can't find a fucking beagle, how are they going to figure out how to get those two back? Fucking Federation bureaucracy. They're idiots. Fools."

Jim smashed his hand into the wall again. He tried to repeat his action but Spock put his hand in the path of Jim's and caught it, holding it back.

"To what end does this declaration bring us?"

"You mean what good does it do to fight it? Do I have any better ideas?" He pulled his fist out of Spock's hand.

"Affirmative."

"I do. I say fuck this Admiral. Let's go back, send a landing team down, sedate them, and bring them back. Then we can keep them under until we find a solution to the problem. "

Spock could think of many issues with this line of reasoning. He hoped that Jim would offer an illogical and inspired idea as he often did; one that Spock had not entertained with his deductive reasoning. This time it was simply an emotional and weak idea. It stemmed more from Jim's desperation than from the excitement and sense of adventure that often fueled his flawless (and reckless) plans.

Deep inside, Spock felt a twinge of emotion. It was simultaneously sad and affectionate. He attempted to, as the Doctor would say, 'sugarcoat' his refutation of Jim's idea.

"When we left the planet, Doctor McCoy was capable of controlling the bridge and the people on it from his position on the planet. If that is still the case- and there is no reason to believe that it has changed- then there is no possibility of arriving within their space without their knowledge and control over us."

"There's gotta be some way we can cloak ourselves from them."

"Even if there were- suppose it takes years to find a solution to the effects of the energy. What life would they experience if they were to spend that time unconscious in the medical bay. Right now they are conscious and alive, by my estimation of their survival probabilities. Their quality of life would be higher staying on the planet. Additionally, with their heightened intelligence, they may find a solution before we would."

"That doesn't mean they'd want to use it." Jim went to the other side of the room and stood, resting his forehead against the wall. He looked- resigned. "I get what you mean though. That would be cruel. I'd rather have superpowers and be stuck in one place than- asleep somewhere, being prodded, I guess."

Jim turned around to face Spock. He made a noise, somewhere between a sigh and a growl. He did not move from that spot. He looked indecisive and helpless. Spock crossed to him and decided to attempt a human gesture of encouragement and support. He wrapped his arms around Jim's torso and set his cheek against Jim's cheek.

This was a hug. Jim reciprocated the action, applying a great amount of pressure. Spock had not realized that this gesture could be not only a friendly one but also an arousing one. He returned an added pressure to the embrace. Green blood pumped through him at his hips and into his cheeks. He had a strange desire to remain in this state for the forseeable future- his Jim protected and in contact with him.

But Jim extracted his arms and face from Spock. He looked into Spock's eyes. His irises were a shallow blue. Spock couldn't see into them. He wanted to crack through the frozen layer on top to get to the emotion that remained so close to the rest of his skin. Jim placed one hand on each of Spock's cheeks. His thumbs brushed across the areas where Spock's blood had rushed.

Jim's eyes looked down from Spock's eyes- to his lips. If Spock was correct, Jim was considering sharing another human gesture with him. Spock looked at Jim's lips. He considered the way Jim often pouted, or the way he breathed, or the way he often moistened his lips with his tongue. Spock found himself open to trying this with his Captain. He had found kisses with Nyota to be pleasant as well, but he anticipated that this would be different.

Jim moved closer to him. His lips parted. Spock could feel the heat of his breath against his own mouth.

There was a hail. Their mouths remained 1.71 inches apart.

"Captain-" It was Lieutenant Sulu. "You'll never guess what we ran into."

Kirk bit his lip and stepped back, out of Spock's physical proximity. "Sorry. That was- sorry. I just wanted to say thank you."

"You are welcome Captain." Spock answered, following Jim back to the bridge, yet again.