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Date: Mon, 9 Feb 2004 22:26:21 -0600
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW: What Dreams May Come TOS K/S 1/2
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TITLE:  What Dreams May Come
AUTHOR:  Dina 
RATING:  NC-17
CODES:  TOS; K/S; originally posted in SBS #11.
SUMMARY:  Harlequin romance in space!  Spock (with a little help 
WARNING:  Contains male/male sex.  If this offends you, or if you 
are under 18, please go elsewhere!
BETA: The one, the only Lyra, who also suggested the title.  Thank 
you!
FEEDBACK:   formerlysane@sbcglobal.net  Feedback is welcome. 
  

  WHAT DREAMS MAY COME


Ship's night, 2347 hours.

Spock jolted awake.  For a moment he was disoriented, uncertain of 
his whereabouts.  After a moment he realized he was in his quarters 
on the Enterprise, in his bed.  Alone.  Spock automatically calmed 
himself, slowing his respiration and pulse down to their normal 
rates.  Shoving the tangled bed coverings aside, he padded into the 
bathroom to splash cool water on his face.  While reaching for the 
towel, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked at 
himself appraisingly: faint bluish-green smudges under his eyes, 
hollows under his cheekbones.  He looked tired.  He had dreamt again 
tonight, the same dream he dreamt last night, two nights ago, three 
nights ago and even before that.  Spock had been dreaming the same 
dream nearly every night for the last three weeks.     

He had dreamt of Jim.  More accurately, he had dreamt of Jim and 
himself, together.  Together as captain and first officer, as 
friends and as lovers.  Tonight Spock had dreamt he was making love 
to Jim, with Jim.  He could not shake off the aftereffects of the 
dream; he could still feel the warmth and softness of Jim's skin, 
smell his scent, and hear his soft moans as Spock pleasured him.  He 
imagined that he could hear Jim breathing his name in the silence of 
the night.  

"Spock."    

Spock mentally shook himself, returned to the bedroom and lay down 
again.  With his hands behind his head, he stared into the darkness 
at the ceiling and thought back over the last few weeks, those 
delightful and agonizing weeks when he discovered that he was in 
love with James Kirk, his commanding officer, his captain and his 
best friend.  


****Three weeks earlier****

"Spock! Wait up!"

Spock turned at the sound of his captain's voice, calling from down 
the corridor.  He held the lift doors open while Jim hurried to the 
lift.  

"Thanks,"  Jim replied with a smile.  "Bridge." The turbolift doors 
obligingly hissed closed and the lift began to move.  "Good morning, 
Spock.  How are you today?"

"Good morning, Captain, I am well.  I did not see you in the 
Officers' Mess at breakfast."

Jim grinned sheepishly.  "I overslept.  Missed breakfast, but one 
missed meal won't kill me.  I'm sure Bones would agree with that!"

Spock clasped his hands behind his back.  He allowed the corners of 
his mouth to quirk up slightly. 

"I am sure the good doctor would certainly say something along those 
lines, Jim, although he would probably prefer that you eat something 
nutritious for breakfast rather than skipping meals.  But, if I may 
inquire, why did you oversleep?  Did you rest poorly last night?"

The sheepish expression returned to Jim's face, making him look 
young and even more boyish than usual.  "I slept fine, what little 
sleep I got, that is.  I just stayed up too late reading, that's 
all.  Silly of me."

Spock opened his mouth to inquire what Jim was reading that should 
keep him up so late when the turbolift suddenly jerked and dropped 
out from under their feet.  Spock reflexively made a grab for the 
wall and stumbled.  Jim stumbled as well and fell heavily, landing 
on his hands and knees.  He let out a yelp. After a split second, 
the lift stabilized.

"Jim!  Are you all right?" 

Spock quickly knelt by Jim. Gasping, Jim cradled his right arm close 
to his body. Blood trickled from his wrist as Jim collapsed on the 
lift floor.  

"Hurt my wrist.  Damnit, it hurts like hell!" he panted.

"Jim, please let me see. Lie on your back."

Spock gently pulled Jim into a supine position and examined the 
injury.  Jim's wrist had a gash that bled and the area appeared 
crooked, as if the bones were misaligned.  Spock stripped off his 
tunic and gently wrapped it around Jim's wrist.  Jim winced and 
hissed loudly through his teeth as Spock touched him.  

"Jim, you have a compound fracture.  Remain still."     

Spock rose to his feet and called the bridge.  Uhura answered at 
once.  "Lieutenant Uhura, there is a malfunction in the bridge 
turbolift.  The captain is injured. Please call sickbay at once."

Uhura's brisk voice came over the intercom.  "Sir, I have Doctor 
McCoy on the intercom."

"Doctor, the captain appears to have a displaced fracture of the 
right distal radius.  The area is swelling rapidly and is 
discolored.  The skin has been broken.  He appears to have no other 
serious injuries."

"Keep the area immobilized, Spock, and cover it with something to 
keep it clean.  I'm on my way."  

"Affirmative, Doctor."

Mr. Scott's voice came over the intercom.  "Mister Spock, one of the 
tubular cone-modulated circulators blew out.  All of the lifts on 
the two upper decks and the bridge lift took a hard jolt.  The lifts 
are stuck for the time being."

By this time Jim was sitting up. "Any injuries?  How long until the 
lifts are operational?"

"No more that a quarter of an hour, Captain," the engineer 
said.  "My lads are all ready on it." 

"Captain," Uhura interjected.  "No major injuries have been 
reported.  Everyone is fine, just lots of bumps and bruises.  

"Get those lifts operational."

"Aye, Sir."

Jim gingerly leaned against the lift wall, still cradling his 
injured wrist to his chest.  He winced again. Sweat beaded on his 
forehead.

"Damn, it hurts!  Spock, are you okay?"

"Affirmative, Captain."  

Spock knelt beside Jim again.  Jim's face was sweaty and pale and 
his temple had a large lump that was rapidly turning blue.   
Concerned that Jim had sustained a brain injury, he reached out and 
gently took Jim's chin in his hand, tilting his face up to look into 
his eyes.  Both pupils appeared normal and were uniformly dilated.  
A brief thought flitted through Spock's mind, that Human eye colors 
were rather diverse.  Jim's were a golden brown, flecked with 
green.  Spock dismissed the thought; it was irrelevant to the 
current situation.

"Do you have pain anywhere other than your wrist and head, Jim?"

"Uh-uh."    

As Spock leaned forward he suddenly became aware of a tantalizing 
scent.  Distractedly, he catalogued it.  Shampoo, soap and *Jim*.  
Curious.  He had never really noticed Jim's scent before.  Jim 
smiled wanly at Spock and Spock's stomach muscles suddenly 
contracted.  Jim's eyes roamed over his torso.

"Sorry for ruining your tunic, Spock.  You look good in black 
though," Jim murmured. 

At that moment the lift shuddered and began to move.  The sudden 
movement made Jim hiss and swear again.  Spock put out a hand and 
pulled his captain to his feet.  After the lift doors opened, Spock 
left Jim to McCoy's grumbling ministrations.  He returned to his 
quarters for another tunic, oblivious to the admiring glances of 
various crew women and men as he strode through the corridors in his 
tight black t-shirt. 

Jim's injuries were treated and he reported to the bridge later in 
the day with an air splint supporting his injured wrist.   

The following day another incident occurred in which Spock found 
himself acutely aware of Jim once again.  Jim had invited Spock to 
play a game of chess in his quarters that evening.  Spock depressed 
the door chime promptly at the designated hour, as was his habit.   

"Come."

Spock entered Jim's quarters and found Jim undressed, wearing a 
towel around his waist.  His skin was pink and glowing from the 
sonic shower.

"I just got out of the shower.  Give me a minute, okay?  Wanna set 
up the game?"  Jim said.

"Certainly."  

Spock picked up the three-dimensional chess game from the shelf and 
placed it on the table they used for play.  He began to set up the 
pieces.  He could see Jim in his peripheral vision and hear him 
rustling through the dresser.  Jim pulled off the towel and tossed 
it on the foot of his bed.  

Spock suddenly found himself looking directly at Jim, noting details 
of his captain's naked form.  He noted the broad shoulders and 
chest.  He noted that Jim's abdomen was quite flat and muscled.  
Spock's eyes slid further down to Jim's groin to the flaccid penis, 
nestled in brown pubic hair.  A bizarre thought suddenly flitted 
through Spock's brain:  he wondered what Jim's penis would look like 
erect.  Horrified at himself, Spock hurriedly looked away.  Heat 
rose in his cheeks and ears.   

Jim finished dressing by grumbling about the air splint on his wrist 
and took his seat across the chessboard.  The game began and the 
rest of the evening passed without incident. 

That was the night the dreams began.  

As the days passed, Spock had similar incidents almost daily.  Once 
while sharing a meal with Jim, Spock found himself focused on the 
small hairs on the back of Jim's hand.  The hairs were silky and 
shone a golden-brown in the light.  Mesmerized, Spock noticed the 
delicate tracery of blue veins just under the skin of Jim's hand as 
Jim sliced a peach.  He swallowed rapidly as Jim bit into the slice 
of fruit and a drop of juice beaded at the corner of his mouth.  The 
tip of Jim's tongue slid out to lap up the drop.  Spock abruptly 
adjusted his legs under the table as he forced his eyes away from 
Jim.   He chastised himself for his foolishness.  That evening he 
declined Jim's invitation to play chess and spent the evening in his 
cabin, meditating.  

By night Spock struggled with his dreams of Jim.  He supposed he 
could call them nightmares; certainly they frightened him with the 
emotional reactions they caused.  Initially he dreamed that he and 
Jim were working on the bridge, in the conference room, playing 
chess, working out and doing all of the things they normally did 
together. 

As time progressed, Spock's dreams changed.  One night he awakened 
to sit bolt upright in the bed.  He had dreamed that Jim had kissed 
him.  Kissed him!  On the mouth!  And Spock had kissed Jim back and 
liked it.  Indeed, he had liked it very much!  

A few nights later Spock awakened from another dream about Jim.  He 
dreamed that Jim was in bed with him, naked, their bodies pressing 
together.  It took long moments to will away his erection.   

Most nights thereafter Spock had similar dreams, except the level of 
eroticism increased.  He began to dream that he and Jim were making 
love.  The dreams seemed so real; he could feel Jim's smooth skin, 
warm and soft, rubbing against his.  He could feel Jim's penis 
throbbing in his hand, his mouth.  

Spock was not one to delude himself.  He acknowledged his attraction 
to Jim.  He had been attracted to Jim's mind for a long time and now 
he was becoming sexually attracted to Jim. Actually, it was quite 
logical when one thought about it.  Jim had the whole package, as 
Humans would say.  Mentally, physically and (dare Spock even think 
it?)  emotionally, Jim was compatible with Spock. 

****

"Mister Spock!"

Spock turned at the sound of Lt. Uhura's voice calling him outside 
of the Officers' Mess during his midday meal break.

"Good afternoon, Lieutenant Uhura."

"Mister Spock, would you like to play some music this evening after 
shift?  I received some new scores yesterday:  Duet Number Three for 
Two Lyres by T'Vural.  I've been waiting for this forever. You must 
see it."

"Surely not; forever is a very long time, Lieutenant.  However, I 
would like to see your new music very much.  Shall we say 1900 
hours?"

"Wonderful!  My quarters, okay?  You know how busy the Rec room is 
at that time.  See you on the bridge," Uhura said and hurried down 
the hall.

Spock arrived at Uhura's quarters promptly at 1900 hours, Vulcan 
lyre in hand. He had taught Uhura the basics of the lyre some months 
ago and she had excelled at it.  Spock, telling himself it was only 
logical to encourage an apt pupil, purchased Uhura a lyre of her own 
and presented it to her on her last birthday.  Secretly, he enjoyed 
having someone who shared his musical interest.

After a while, Uhura stopped playing and looked steadily at Spock.  
Spock paused as well and returned the look.

"Spock, your mind is elsewhere tonight.  Is everything okay?

"I apologize for being so distracted, Nyota.  I will endeavor to pay 
closer attention."

"No, s'okay."  Uhura stretched lazily.  "What's on your mind?  Do 
you want to talk about it?"

Spock considered Uhura's offer.  Although he was reluctant to 
discuss his problem, it was getting worse with each passing day.  
Perhaps talking about it would help.  Meditation had done nothing to 
alleviate the situation.  

"Very well, I find I need to discuss my *problem* with someone."

Seconds slipped by.  

"Come on, Spock, out with it." 

"Yes, of course.  I am having a problem with sleeping.  I am also 
easily distracted, as you mentioned."

"Why can't you sleep?"

"I am having dreams.  Recurrent dreams.  I am fatigued but am still 
unable to rest well.  I am finding the fatigue is beginning to 
affect my concentration."  

"Are you dreaming about Beladia's Planet?  That was a rough mission 
for everyone."    

Silence.  Spock noticed he was gripping his lyre tightly.  He 
carefully set it aside on the floor.  He twisted his hands and 
stared down at them.    

"Spock?  What are your dreams about?" Suddenly Uhura had a flash of 
intuition.  "Spock, are your dreams about something or someone?"

The silence stretched out.

Finally Spock began to speak.  He paused and uncharacteristically 
cleared his throat.  He tried again. 

"You are right to ask if my dreams are about someone."    

Spock trailed off momentarily.  He then began to speak so quietly 
that Uhura had to lean closer to hear.

"I find I am having dreams about someone nearly every night.  I am, 
I mean,  I don't,  I don't know how to stop them."

"Do you want to tell me about them?" 

The silence resumed as Spock continued to stare at his hands. 

"Spock?"

"I dream I am engaged in," the last word was unintelligible.

"In what?"

"Intimacies.  I am engaged in imtimacies with someone.  First the 
dreams were about ordinary activities with this person, but as time 
progressed, the dreams became more personal, more intimate."

Uhura gently asked, "When you say intimacies, you mean lovemaking, 
right?"

Spock's voice was barely audible. "Yes." His ears and cheeks were 
flushed bright green.   

Uhura nearly smiled.  If she had been having this conversation with 
anyone else she would have laughed.  

"Spock, dreaming about sex is not uncommon.  It happens to people 
all the time."

"Perhaps it happens to Humans all the time, but I am a Vulcan.  I 
should be able to control this," Spock said.

"You're half Human; why wouldn't you have erotic dreams?  But more 
importantly, the fact that the dream recurs, that it is about the 
same person each time, means that you have some issues with this 
person.  Is this someone you are having an intimate relationship 
with?  Someone you used to have an intimate relationship with?"

Spock continued to stare at his hands in his lap.  "No, to both 
questions."

"Then, Spock, this must be someone you want to have a relationship 
with,"  Uhura said slowly.  "Is that it?"

Spock sat utterly still then he quietly said, "Yes."

"Have you told him?"

"No."  Spock stared at Uhura.  "Why do you think it is a 'him'?"

Uhura did smile this time.  "Spock, there is no one else on this 
ship but 'him' for you.  You and Jim are perfect for each other."

Spock was speechless.  How could she have possibly known that he was 
speaking of Jim?  Obviously his behavior was far more affected by 
this situation than he realized.

"Am I that obvious?" he asked.

"No, you're not.  You forget that I'm trained to observe all types 
of communication, not just verbal communication.  I've known that 
you've loved Jim for some time.   And what's more, I believe Jim 
loves you too."

"I do not understand," Spock replied flatly.

"What do you mean?"

"You said that Jim loves me.  I do not understand how you can say 
that; he has never given any indication that he reciprocates my 
sentiment."

Uhura smiled again and said, "Spock, trust me on this.  I'm a 
communications specialist, a Human and even better, a woman.  I know 
he cares for you; I just *know*.   I could give you a bunch of 
reasons on how I know this but that's not the issue at hand.  The 
issue is: what are you going to do about this, Spock?"

"I don't know what to do."
  
"Ah, but that's simple.  What do you want?"
 
"I want Jim."

"Well, then go out and get him."

"It is not that simple for me.  I am uncertain of the best method 
for facilitating a seduction."  Spock shook his head emphatically.
  
"Would you like my help?"  At the Vulcan's slight nod, Uhura smiled 
a secret little smile. 

"It appears that we must conspire, Mister Spock, and come up with a 
plan.  Let me tell you how I got the Angolian vampire wrestler to 
fall in love with me in just a weekend."  





[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]



 
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