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The rest of the Enterprise crew had, rather sensibly, gone to bed by now. Chekov was first (she always was) followed quickly by Sulu and Uhana, and even Scotty had put up a good showing, but it was nearly 0100 of the next day and even the ever-energetic Scot needed her rest. Now, illuminated by nothing but cold kitchen lights at a small round table, Kirk and McCoy continued nursing their drinks and their conversation.
"No, no, listen," Kirk's face was flushed from the amount of Federation-approved booze she'd drunk, blonde curls let loose from a Captain's updo and hanging around her shoulders. "Listen. If you want good drinks and a good time, you have to go to-"
"If you say whatever hayseed town you grew up in-"
"No! God no. Off-world, human colonies. All the comforts of home, all the fun of living away from core Federation space. Just loose enough."
"Oh, and let me guess," McCoy laughed into her glass as she took another sip. "Plenty of women for your 'exotic' tastes."
McCoy's expression went serious for a moment, putting down the glass — it made her seem like she sobered up immediately. "But really, we need to have a talk about how many STDs and STIs can be transmitted between species."
"What?" Kirk snickered. "Worried about me getting space herpes?"
"Worried about the amount of bodily fluids being exchanged."
The kitchen doors slid open then with a hiss, and before she could blink, Kirk was faced with a very angry-looking Spock. Her usually clean short hair was a little more disheveled than usual, Federation-granted sleepwear looking a little wrinkled.
"You two need to go to bed," She said, curt and sharp.
"Captain gets to decide bedtime, Spock," Kirk leaned back a few degrees. There was a kind of fire in Spock's eyes that made her hesitate.
"No, I'm deciding, because you two are keeping me up," Spock crossed her arms, shoulders tensed like an animal with its fur raised. "You've been chatting for hours, go to bed!"
Every logical instinct of a Captain told Kirk to drop it, relent to her crew mate's wishes, but the more inebriated part just wanted to see how much of Spock she could rile up. It was rare to even hear this much emotion in her voice, as restrained as it was.
"Aw, what, those pointy ears too sensitive?" Kirk tilted her head, watching for any change in body language. "This ship has engines that roar to nearly 175 decibels, you're telling me some chatting is keeping you up?"
Kirk watched as Spock's body tensed up a bit more. "Yes. Yes it is."
"You seem pretty antsy there, Spock," Kirk put on a cat-like smile. "Am I disrupting your beauty sleep? You getting Vulcan PMS over there?"
For just a moment, McCoy's eyes widened by a fraction. She sucked in a breath, putting a hand on Kirk's shoulder. "Hey, look, maybe we should-"
Spock stalked forward, hand locked onto Kirk's shoulder, making the blonde freeze for a moment. She never touches me. Spock grit her teeth before speaking.
"If you will please, go to bed and keep it quiet. I am asking politely and respectfully." That last sentence felt like it was added on to make up for the stern tone. Kirk nodded awkwardly and wordlessly, and Spock finally left the kitchen.
Kirk swallowed the lump in her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. "Okay. That was… unusual."
She spared a glanced over to McCoy, who was staring hard into the distance at nothing. "Hey, doc. You good?"
"Yeah, yeah, it's uh…" McCoy seemed to be turning the words over in her mind then. "Uh. Hm. I really don't know if I should say this. Patient confidentiality."
"Bones. C'mon. I'm the Captain." Kirk gave a small, easygoing smile, putting a hand on her chest. "If there's something wrong with my crew, I deserve to know."
Kirk's smile turned wry. "Besides, you hate Spock."
"I don't hate any of my patients," McCoy put up her hands in defense. "Spock and I just… don't agree. Ever."
"Exactly. So spill."
"Ah, shit," McCoy took another sip of liquor. "Okay, okay, this is speculation. Not a lot of things can cause a Vulcan to lose their cool, right? She's clearly trying pretty hard to keep it together."
"Yeah, I have eyes, I could see that much."
"Your dumbass comment reminded me of something my old professor mentioned back in med school, some kind of Vulcan mating ritual that makes them a little… intense."
"Holy shit," Kirk's eyes went wide. "Vulcan PMS."
"No, no, it's a bit worse than that," McCoy glanced away then, rubbing the back of her neck, worry apparent in her eyes. "A lot worse, actually, if I'm being honest. During the whole ordeal, a Vulcan's body goes haywire, hormones and adrenaline spiking. If they don't find a mate, it'll keep rising, and the resulting biological chaos is almost always fatal."
Kirk's first reaction was stifling a chuckle. The idea of Spock — calm, cool, collected and brilliant Spock — having to quite literally fuck or die was too funny to ignore. Then, about two seconds later, the rest of Kirk's brain kicked in and her blood ran cold.
"So," Kirk knitted her brow. "You're saying Spock could literally die from this."
"Yes. Maybe. I-I'm not sure," McCoy admitted. "Look, look, I'll handle all the med check ups and call Spock in tomorrow. Maybe I'm wrong, it's happened before."
She stood, drinking the last remnants of liquor and running a hand through her hair. "Let's… just get to bed. We can handle this tomorrow."
"Uh, Bones," Kirk stood, pursing her lips. "What if this is that mating thing? What do we do then?"
"Pray there's another Vulcan somewhere in this star system."
The day's trip was through a poorly mapped corner of a far off galaxy, meaning Kirk really didn't have to do much except sit at the helm and watch her crew mates work. She absently tapped her fingers against the armrest of her chair.
"Three degrees left," Chekov said, flipping through half a dozen holographic images of the nearby planets and clumps of asteroids.
"Right," Sulu moved with calm — almost bored — precision, the movement barely even felt aboard the Enterprise. "Uhura, any signals we should be aware of?"
Uhura didn't even bother with a verbal response. The fact that all radars pinged utterly empty was enough of an answer. It was the kind of energy that made Kirk conflicted. On one hand, an easy day with nothing dangerous was welcome. On the other hand, it was just boring.
"I'm grabbing another coffee," Kirk muttered, standing and popping her joints with a stretch.
"Though McCoy told you to stop after your second cup," Sulu lifted her head, an almost teasing glint in her eyes.
"Yeah, well, I'm about three seconds away from a very comfy nap in the Captain's chair," Kirk responded with the same slight tone. "Uhura, you're playing chaperone for the, I don't know, five minutes it will take me to get a cup."
"Yeah, got it," Uhura said, before his brow furrowed for a moment. "Wait, why not Spock? Where is she?"
"Uh-" Kirk rubbed the back of her neck — she hadn't seen Spock all day, and hadn't heard yet from McCoy. "Sick leave. Probably."
She left before anyone could pelt her with questions, the door from the bridge shutting with a hiss. Making her way to the kitchen, she considered pinging McCoy, or even Spock herself, just something to get a bit of information. She assumed there would have been something by now, some kind of update.
"Maybe it's fine," Kirk muttered to herself, the sleek white halls of the Enterprise going on practically forever. "Maybe nothing came of it and Spock is just having a bad time, it's all-"
Her words were stopped suddenly, bumping into Spock hard enough to knock out a bit of the air. Before Kirk could even get a word out, Spock leveled her with a hard stare. There was that same fire in her eyes, the same slightly messy hair. Kirk almost wanted to reach up and fix it, it looked so unusual on her.
"We need to spar." Spock said. Kirk blinked a few times, wondering if she'd heard that right.
"Spar," Kirk repeated. "Like-"
"I need you to meet me in the training bay," Spock's voice was strained, and she wasn't quite meeting Kirk's eyes. "And I would like us to spar."
"Yeah," Kirk nodded, brain running a mile a minute, trying to understand if there was something she was missing. "Yeah, yeah sure, like now?"
"Preferably, yes." Spock replied.
"Got it," Kirk said. "Give me a couple minutes to get changed, and I can meet you there."
Spock left wordlessly, and Kirk was suddenly moving on autopilot back to her quarters, brain trying to scramble for any sense in that strange encounter. She's pissed. She must be, right? Did I do something?
Her mind didn't stop racing as she changed into sweatpants and uniform-standard white tank top. She took her hair out of a formal updo and settled for a tight ponytail.
Kirk steeled her nerves. Whatever the reasoning, she was going into this prepared. As much as she could be against a half-Vulcan.
Spock was already in the training bay when she arrived — a large, plain white room with gym-like mats built into the floors, a couple racks of blunt training weapons on the far wall. Spock was waiting with her arms crossed, staring off into nothing. She had on the same uniform tank top, and a pair of form fitting black leggings, the kind of thing worn underneath everyday starship attire. There was one of the training staves in her hands already.
"Thank you for coming," Spock said, and Kirk could practically feel the tension in the room now, like a humidity sticking in the air. "Shall we begin?"
"Sure," Kirk grabbed one of the training staves herself — it was made of a tough plastic, enough to bruise but not seriously injure. "Ready when you are."
She barely had time to turn and react before Spock was attacking, whipping the staff around in a wide arc. Kirk put up her own weapon moments before she would've been hit, the impact reverberating through her bones.
Christ, okay, we're doing this, Kirk thought to herself, stepping back to avoid Spock's next swing. And she's gonna keep me on my toes while I'm doing this.
"So," Kirk deflected the next blow, Spock's staff hitting the training mats with a dull thud. "Can I, uh, ask what this is about?"
"What is the human term? Blowing off steam?" Spock kept advancing. The strikes were all focused and precise.
"You don't seem like the type with a lot of steam to blow off," Kirk sucked in a breath. Talking while fighting was objectively a horrible idea, but she just couldn't seem to keep her mouth shut.
"That is…" Spock grit her teeth, taking two, three more steps forward, the staff moving in perfect arcs. "That is private."
The two paused for just a moment, nothing but the sound of their own heavy breathing. Kirk stood straighter, eyes trained on Spock. Sweat was beaded on her skin.
"I didn't think Vulcans sweat," Kirk said.
"We usually do not," Spock lowered her grasp on the staff, sending it straight up, barely missing Kirk's chin.
"So what's the special occasion?" Kirk tilted her head — something was definitely off, that was more obvious now. She knew the only way to get any information out of Spock was to rile her up. "Vulcan PMS?"
"I told you," Spock jabbed the end of the staff forward, her voice more of a growl. "It's private."
The next few swings didn't even give Kirk time to talk, forcing her to keep dodging repeated jabs. One of them grazed her shoulder. Pain blossomed from the force of the strike. Kirk grunted and stepped back.
"You were pretty pissed last night," Kirk swayed to one side, then the other, Spock's swipes barely missing her. "What happened to all that Vulcan stoicism?"
"I know what you're trying to do, Juliette," Spock said. "You are not going to get a rise out of me."
She called me by my first name. "Seems like I'm already doing that." Kirk replied.
Now, it was Kirk's turn to advance, her staff colliding with Spock's. Spock pushed her back, but Kirk kept the pressure on.
"Y'know, the doctor and I had a pretty neat conversation last night," Kirk knew this was a stupid thing to say, but if it would get the truth out of Spock, it was worth it. "Some weird quirk of Vulcan biology."
Spock stiffened, and Kirk used the opening to swing at her side. Spock moved on reflex, barely deflecting the blow.
"Yeah, it's the weirdest thing," Kirk could feel the sweat at her back and soaking into her tank top, but she didn't stop. "That apparently they have to find a mate or they literally die."
Spock let out some foreign curse under her breath, shuffling back and breathing heavy. "It's called pon farr. If a Vulcan is unable to find a mate, they can try meditating. If meditation doesn't work-"
Kirk braced herself as Spock swung her staff like a bat, hitting Kirk's own weapon with enough force to make her stumble. "Then violence can also be a method of… release."
"Is it working?"
Spock didn't answer that. Kirk grit her teeth and pushed forward, trying to break Spock's defenses. Her hands were slick with sweat by now, forcing her to grip her staff even tighter. Her knuckles were turning white.
"Oh, come on, Spock!" Kirk raised her voice now. "This could be serious, right?"
"Why do you care?" Spock's movements were getting slower now, her technique faltering. "I can handle this on my own."
"It's a Captain's job to care about her crew," Kirk replied, the staff colliding with Spock's upper thigh, causing her to stumble to one side. "If one of my crew is in danger of dying, then I think it's my place to worry."
"I told you," Spock tried to retaliate, but her swing went completely wide. "I have it under control myself."
"Allow me to call bullshit on that," Kirk scowled. "Why won't you let someone help? It doesn't have to be me, McCoy can figure out something-"
"Because it is humiliating!" Spock was suddenly shouting, the staff moving faster than Kirk could react. It slammed into her hip, throwing her to the side.
"I spend years training and honing my mind to perfection," Spock said, never relenting, forcing Kirk to grit her teeth and accept some of the blows. "Culling my pride, focusing on logic, and now I'm stuck acting like- like some kind of animal in heat!"
Spock was panting, moving like lightning, furious like a storm. She shoved Kirk, hard, and Kirk felt her back against one of the walls. Moments later, Spock's staff was across her chest. She was trapped.
"I am a Vulcan, the most logical people in the galaxies, but the moment my biology turns on me-" Kirk felt the pressure on her chest increase. "I'm stuck obsessing over a simple human woman!"
A simple human? Kirk's mouth was agape for a moment, her mind left racing for what Spock meant. She watched as Spock's expression changed by a fraction, jaw tightening, face growing red as she realized what she had just said aloud.
Kirk blinked a few times. She wasn't sure if her next words would get her punched or not. "Spock… do you-?"
"Quiet," Spock averted her gaze suddenly, but didn't let up the pressure. "You're… damn it, I don't know why it's you."
The silence lasted for a long while — Spock still wouldn't meet her eyes. As Kirk caught her breath, she tried to think of anything, anything to say to break the long quiet.
I have no idea what to do, Kirk thought. Okay, that's a lie, I know exactly what I *could* do.
Kirk dropped her staff, reaching up to nudge Spock's face in her direction. Straining against the restraint, Kirk pressed her lips against Spock's. Barely enough to count as a kiss, really, but Kirk had no idea if this was even welcome.
When she pulled back, Spock's face was unreadable. Just as Kirk was sure she was going to get sent out the ship's airlock, Spock leaned in again, kissing harder. Suddenly, the staff was gone, and Kirk was pressed between the wall and Spock's body, hands pinned to the wall. Kirk tried to move, relieve the pressure on her wrists but- Christ, is this what Vulcan strength feels like?
"Ah-" Kirk was fighting to catch her breath between Spock's kisses, feeling hands running up along her sides and her hips. "Spock, the training bay is not the right place for this-"
"Right," Spock pulled back, but Kirk could tell just how much restraint it took. "Your bunk?"
"Why not yours?"
"It's too far," Spock glanced away, as if breaking eye contact would help her contain herself. Kirk could see her breathing heavily, see the sweat sticking to her body.
"Right," Kirk could help but give a wry smirk, finally moving away from the wall and exiting the training bay with Spock in tow. The two moved quietly. Kirk's eyes shifted from left to right, watching for anyone else in the halls. She felt like an Academy student again, slipping between rooms long after curfew had passed.
She barely had time to close the door to her room before she felt Spock's body up against her back, warm to the touch. One hand settled at her hips, the other just below her breasts. There was a kind of quiet strength behind the touches that made Kirk's heart race.
"Please," Spock was still panting, like every word was hard to get out. "Please tell me if it's too much."
"I started this, didn't I?" Kirk spun around, sitting at the edge of her bed, the dark blue bedding contrasting white walls and floors. "I'm offering. I can take whatever you give me, promise."
With that, Spock began to undress, first stepping out of her leggings and then pulling the tank top over her head in one fluid movement. Kirk's breathing hitched as she stared — Spock's body was tanned and lean, muscle definition subtle but definitely there. All she had on now was a pair of plain black briefs, and a sports bra that hugged her figure.
Am I physically prepared for this? Kirk wondered as Spock approached the bed. Do I look good enough? Am I even attractive by Vulcan standards?
She got her answer shortly. Spock didn't speak before grabbing at the hem of Kirk's tank top, pulling it up and off. There was a brief moment between them, just enough for Kirk to notice Spock's eyes wandering lower and lower. Before Kirk could respond, she was suddenly flat on her back, Spock's thigh between hers and with the Vulcan pinning her down.
"This is-" Spock leaned down, close enough where Kirk could feel her breath against her cheek. "This is just to help me, right?"
Kirk knew what she was trying to get at. "Yeah. Nothing more."
There weren't any words needed after that. Kirk shut off her brain, letting instinct take over, weaving one hand into Spock's hair and letting the other settle at her hips as they kissed. Spock was downright hot against her skin, a far cry from the usual chill her touch held.
Spock kept pushing, always moving, barely giving Kirk time to settle. She moved from pinning Kirk down to laying side by side, legs tangled together and lips brushing against Kirk's collarbone. She heard Kirk whimper at that, something primal lighting up in Spock's mind — she wanted to hear that noise again and again.
"Ah, fuck-" Kirk had planned on letting Spock take the lead, but wasn't expecting to be fully at her whims. But no, Spock found her weak spot without even trying, kissing at her neck and chest, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin. She clung on tighter, nails scratching at Spock's back, thighs pressing together.
"Hey," Kirk gathered her thoughts just enough, though still panting as Spock ran her fingers across Kirk's ribs, just under her breasts. "To end this whole thing, do you need to-"
"Eventually," Spock said, Kirk able to feel every breath against her chest. "But… let me do this. Let me thank you."
Pinned down by a woman with three times the strength of a human, Kirk wasn't exactly in a position to complain. With the way Spock was letting her hands wander and pulling at the band of her underwear, she didn't want to.
It took Kirk a while to get her brain fully functioning again, to think about something other than the Vulcan woman she'd just spent the last hour with. The first thing that registered in her brain was that she desperately needed a shower — the second is that Spock looked almost a bit cute passed out in her bed.
Kirk stood, stretched, and ignored the slight dizziness that went to her head. Spock stirred slightly, limbs twitching as she tried to sit up, but Kirk could tell she wasn't going anywhere.
"Take it easy," Kirk assured her, giving her a pat on the shoulder and pulling up the blanket to give her some modesty. "I'm just gonna rinse off, ok?"
The shower was quick, partially to shock her system back to reality and partially to get off some of the sweat. When she returned, Spock still hadn't moved. Kirk threw on a fresh uniform and sat down on the bed.
"Hey," Kirk kept her voice quiet. "Do you need-"
"Shh," Spock's eyes were still closed, her breathing slow and steady. "Not a word. To a soul. Do you understand?"
It was clear she was trying to keep an edge to her voice, but the exhaustion was evident anyways. Kirk smiled warmly, patting her on the shoulder.
"Yeah," She said. "Not a word."
"If you do, I'll…" The rest of her words were lost into the pillow, before she went still again and her breathing evened out.
Kirk emerged from her room like nothing had happened, ready to put on a practiced smile and pretend like she still didn't know where Spock was. Putting her hair back into it's updo, Kirk made her way back to the bridge.
She emerged on the bridge to find her crew in the exact same position, everyone looking just about as bored. Sulu gave a slight nod, before double-taking and tilting her head.
"Oh, McCoy was just here looking for you," Sulu said.
Kirk pursed her lips. "Of course she was. What did I do now?"
"Nothing, you're off the hook," Sulu shrugged. "She came in, asked where you and Spock were, and when we said you were both doing something else, she left. Said she'd find you guys and told us not to go looking."
McCoy, I owe you several drinks.
"Said she needs to give you a briefing on… extraterrestrial infections, I think?"
Scratch that.