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Summary
In which shit goes down in no particular order: Jim almost starts a war, Spock gets tortured, Jim gets kidnapped, Jim gets tortured, Spock gets not-quite-kidnapped, Jim takes the Enterprise joyriding, and mysterious Vulcans with their even more mysterious leader hop a ride for a few weeks. But that’s not what the story’s about. It’s about this: Jim was always going to fall in love with Spock – boldly, recklessly. He just didn’t expect to stay that way. A story about getting over all that.
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Spock once says to him, “Simply because you are offered a present does not mean that you must accept it,” and Jim mutters quietly, but never quite quietly enough around Spock’s sharp ears, “Mama never gave me no presents. Not since you came around and made her sad.” He thinks of Sam’s accusing face.
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So, so , so, so beautiful, but without the resolution I crave! It's a whole buzzing, tense, realistic, imperfect tale of things never being shinysoftsafe.
(Also, this is the one with that super hot over-the-table sex scene.)
Also has: lots of personification language bordering on magic realism, non-linear narrative, the stones that represent people to the captain, Spock's refusal to meld-------
“Holy shit,” Jim says.
“Your meaning is unclear, sir.”
“Holy shit,” Jim says again.
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By late afternoon, the ship has an energy to it that seems to pulse with her engines. There is a crackle of expectation snapping through her air. In the captain’s chair, Jim sits and taps his fingers. Behind him, Nyota murmurs into the comm system. He knows Nyota is too diligent to actually use her time or position as communications officer to arrange off-duty affairs, but it seems that even she is not immune to the hum of excitement. He cranes his neck to look at her – the same secret smile that he’s seen on a dozen crew members plays around the edges of her mouth. It suits her, this edge of vitality flushing out her graceful beauty.
He twists further around and watches Spock at his science station. His fingers are flying over the console in front of him. If he is aware of the anticipation growing around him, he doesn’t betray it. Nor does he show any awareness of Jim’s scrutiny, not for a long moment. But when he does finally look at Jim, there is no hesitation in his face, no stuttering of his eyes. There never is. He always meets Jim head-on, and he holds Jim’s gaze until Jim calms and becomes still, until his fingers no longer tap an impatient rhythm against the arm of his chair.
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Because they’re all so young – and reckless and stupid and alive – they occasionally do reckless and stupid and alive things, things that punctuate the seriousness of what they’re doing out here in the black. And even if Jim’s not the one leading them on, he’s right there with the rest of them.
Taking an extra hour on an away mission to strip down to his pants with the rest of the away team and throw himself off the edge of the roaring waterfall. Staying awake all night dancing at a local harvest festival, being exhausted the next morning on the bridge. Helping the medical personnel vaccinate the entire city of T’erthia, even though he couldn’t get hypo’d with the vaccine due to his allergies.
“I’m already exposed,” he’d finally snapped at both McCoy and Spock. “We were down here a day before we figured out what was going on. So if there’s damage to be done, it’s already done. And I can’t go back to the ship before we know if I’ve got it. So let me be of some use.”
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There are days he wants to say to the Admiral, “You know what, I’m not George Kirk. And I envy the fuck out of him.”
George Kirk was able to sacrifice himself rather than his crew, and his son doesn’t have that luxury. Because he’s not a captain for twelve minutes but for all the minutes that he sees stretching out before him.
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. . . fiercely, “I will not let this ship become the harbinger of the Federation’s empire."
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Bookmark Notes:
It's passionate, stimulating and beautiful written.
Brilliant.The author is challenge to be the outsider looking into this ramakable relationship.
Characters building beautifully.
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Bookmark Notes:
Thomas Murray says to him, “Please, Jimmy. When you bury me, don’t let the dirt get in my eyes.”
<3