Jim's Personal Quarters

Jim smiled, glancing down at his feet. He looked back up at Pock. "Normally, when someone says 'can we talk', it means they want to have a serious, or semi-serious conversation." He took a deep breath. "I'm interested in you. Romantically, that is."

"Oh," Pock said. She straightened in her chair. "I see."

The words washed over her. Romantically interested. It seemed almost surreal. Jim Kirk, her captain and friend, was romantically interested in her, and he had just stated so. As in, he was interested in pursuing a romantic liaison. With her.

Her mind reeled with calculations and scenarios.

Jim took a half step back. "But, I mean, of course, this won't affect our working relationship at all. I just thought, that since we've always been honest with each other - sometimes brutally so - that I'd tell you how I feel. You don't have to reciprocate these feelings."

That jarred her out of her mental spiral and back into the chair across from him.

"I did not say I was not interested," she said, almost too quickly. "That is not the case. Rather, I do reciprocate your emotions, and am pleased to hear that you feel this way as well. I merely did not expect that development."

Jim let out a sigh that was more relieved than anything. "I see," he said. To be honest, he hadn't been sure where Pock stood in her feelings towards him. He was ecstatic, really.

He just wasn't sure if she would want a relationship, now. Just because you were mutually attracted to someone didn't mean that you were automatically going to jump into a relationship.

His past one night stands were proof of that.

But Pock was so much more than just a one night stand. He could see them having a real, working relationship. And he wanted it.

She caught his air of hesitance, and wondered what exactly he wanted.

It was clear to her was she wanted, of course. Pock wanted a relationship. She wanted to be with him, and she wanted him to be with her, and she wanted that to last. She wanted to know him fully, physically and mentally and emotionally. She wanted him, plain and simple.

"Since we have confirmed our mutual attraction," she said slowly, even clinically, "perhaps we should now discuss how we wish to continue our relationship. Or, if you will to allow me to rephrase, in what manner shall we continue it?"

Jim nodded, taking the seat across from her. "We should talk about this," he said, leaning in slightly. Body language was important, he knew. By doing so, he was showing he was open to listening and open to dialogue.

There was a pause as he thought about how to phrase his words. "I want a relationship between us," he said slowly. "A real one, where we go on dates, and support each other in every aspect we can."

Pock breathed slowly. Steadily.

To hear him say those words was stunning. She had imagined it, of course, once or twice. She had thought about how she might reply or what the circumstances might be, but never had she really thought that it was possible that they would slip out from between his lips. It felt strange. Good. Her heart was thrumming in her side.

"I want the same," she said, surprised by the evenness of her voice. "It would be most fulfilling, I should think, to engage in such a relationship with you."

Jim wanted nothing more than to get up, move around the table, pull Pock into his arms and kiss her 'til they both forgot their names. Forgot where they were. Forgot what they did for a living. As it was, he didn't. He gave her a bright smile, the one he reserved for her. "It's a good thing we're on the same page then."

Pock's eyes were radiant as Jim beamed at her. She couldn't believe that she'd walked in here believing that Jim could never reciprocate her romantic feelings, and now, she was sitting across from him discussing a romantic relationship.

"Indeed," she said. "So then we are in agreement to pursue a romantic relationship?"

He nodded. "I believe we are," he said. He got up and moved around the table, leaning back against it.

There was a strand of hair that always fell into Pock's eyes. He never knew if she noticed it, but he always had the urge to move it out of the way. Jim reached over, slowly, giving her time to back away, and brushed the strand away. He smiled down at her.

Pock saw him moving towards her, slowly, but she didn't flinch away or move. Rather, she just met his eyes. They were so blue. Impossibly, life-alteringly blue, the kind of blue that eyes should never be. It wasn't fair. It wasn't safe.

Slowly, he brushed her hair behind her ear, tucking it gently away. She felt the whispered ghosts of his touch, soft and gentle, barely there at all. She could feel the tension and the affection crackling between them. When he pulled his hand back, she let out a slow, steady breath.

Her eyes never fell away from his. "I thank you," she murmured politely.

Their eyes stayed locked as his hand fell back to his leg. She spoke, and Jim listened to her voice, rather than her words. "You're welcome," he murmured back.

Free to look at her all he wanted now, he smiled softly down at her. He had so many things he wanted to say, but couldn't find the words to say them. Without breaking eye contact, he took in as much of her face as he could. His hand came up of it's own accord to rest on her cheek.

Pock leaned subconsciously into his hand, pulling up her shields to keep away the assault of emotions she knew were Jim's personal feelings. She did not want to intrude.

Rather, she felt his pulse thrumming against her cheek. She felt the hard callouses at the end of his fingertips. She studied the lines of his face in a way that she had never had the privilege before. The thin lines of his mouth, the way it titled upward in an intimate smile. The jagged, sharp edges of his face.

They were... together.

It was strange to think that way, and yet it felt exhilarating. Like it was bold and exciting and right.

Jim shifted slightly, thumb swiping across her cheekbone. He leaned down slowly, before brushing his lips across hers in a sweet, chaste kiss. Their first night as a couple was not one for anything loud and harsh.

The kiss was soft and intimate like a whispered secret. Their lips brushed together, and Pock felt her whole body come alive in a shower of sparks. She'd kissed before, of course, in the human way. It was pleasant. But never had she kissed anyone quite like this.

This felt like something clicking into place. It felt like a crack of lightning across a dark sky, or a streak of blazing meteoric light in an otherwise starless night. Like a sunrise after a bad dream.

It was more than pleasant, she observed. Far more.

He pulled back, thumb still brushing across her cheek.

If later asked to describe their first kiss, Jim didn't think he'd be able to do it. His whole body felt like he'd been hit by a train.

"We can do something, if you'd like," he murmured, hating to break the silence.

His voice jolted her out of her blissful reverie, but it didn't shake her euphoria.

"Of course," she said, reveling in the feel of his thumb as it gently caressed her. "Is there anything in particular you had in mind?"

Jim pulled her to her feet, dropping another kiss on her lips just because he could. "Well," he mumbled, "we could watch a movie, play a card game, put on some music and dance..." He trailed off, leaning down to kiss her again. He didn't think that he'd ever tire of kissing her.

Pock gasped as he pulled her to feet, then he kissed her breathless before she could force the air back into her lungs. Her eyes laughed in happy surprise.

"I am unfamiliar with most Terran card games," she said airily. "And I do not know how to dance as humans do, though I would not be averse to learning in the presence of the right teacher."

Her lips turned up coyly at the very edges.

Jim grinned down at her. "Dancing it is. We'll save card games for another night," he said, voice equally light.

He took her hand to lead her into the living room area. He grabbed his iPod and put on some slow music on. He smiled down at her as he walked back over to her. "Ready?" he murmured, voice low and intimate.

Another flare of nerves went off in her chest. Though she was a fairly graceful woman, this kind of dancing was something she was very unfamiliar with. It required such intimacy and closeness and rhythm, things she was unsure she had ever developed on Vulcan.

"I believe so," she murmured back, softly and with a slight hesitance.

Jim smiled, reading the flash of nerves that went through her eyes. "You'll do fine," he said. "Now, arms around my neck." He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her gently towards him.

She nervously slipped her arms around his neck, stepping closer to him. Her fingers interlocked behind him. His own arms snaked around her waste and pulled her close, so she was within kissing distance of his lips. She could feel the heat radiating off his body.

Her heart thrummed consistently against her ribs.

He pulled her a little bit closer and started swaying to the beat of the music. "Just move with me," he murmured. He put a hand on her hips, showing her how to move with him and the music. The other stayed on her waist, resting over her racing heart.