Jim's Personal Quarters

He loved hearing Pock speak of Amanda Grayson. That woman, he decided, had to be the most kickass woman in all of history. She'd fallen in love with the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth, married him, and then had a daughter, all while living on Vulcan.

It helped that he had a wonderful insight into Amanda Greyson the mother, and not Lady Amanda, wife of Ambassador Sarek.

His hand started playing with her hair again, unconsciously. "That sounds..."  Jim paused, not sure what to say. His own mother had been mostly absent from his life, and he had never known his biological father. "That sounds wonderful."

There was a soft silence in the air for awhile, before Pock replied in a quiet, wistful tone. "It was," she said. "It was a most acceptable pastime."

She leaned unconsciously into his fingers, liking the way it felt as he ran his fingers through the hair. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she breathed deeply.

"I believe you would have enjoyed her company had you met her prior to her death."

Jim smiled softly at her last words. "I'm sure we would have gotten along great," he said, fingers continuing to twist and twirl her hair.

On some points, he envied her, for having had parents who cared. On the other hand, it couldn't have been easy, being a child of two worlds. His other hand came up to frame her face, and he pressed a soft, loving kiss to her forehead.

His hand continued to weave in and out of his partner's hair, careful not to pull on it.

Pock exhaled as Jim pressed a kiss to her temple.

"I am sure you would have, as well," she said softly. She lifted her own hand and reached up, laying it gently over the one Jim had placed on her face. It was warm and rough beneath her palm. "Would it be forward of me to ask about your mother, Jim?"

Jim's eyes dropped from hers. "Mom was rarely home. Last time she was home for more than a month was when I got back from Tarsus and Starfleet refused to send her back into space while I was in the hospital."

He was happy to discuss her parents all she wanted, but his? One died crashing a ship into the Narada, and the other couldn't hardly stand the sight of him.

Pock's eyes furrowed together. The hand that rested over Jim's tightened its grip on him, and her other hand lifted to his chin, forcing him to look up at her. Her eyes were filled not with sympathy, but with love. Love and heartbreak, and maybe a bit of apology mixed in with regret.

"You did not deserve to be alone," she said softly, her voice firm, leaving no room for argument. "You deserve to be loved."

Jim smiled at her and flipped his hand under hers to lace their fingers together. He squeezed tightly, a silent thank you. "I know." And it was true, he did know that intellectually. In his heart, he was still working on believing that.

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. He untangled their fingers and crawled off the bed. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

He went into the living quarters and over to his replicator. He programmed in some breakfast foods he'd seen Pock eat when they ate breakfast in the mess hall, and a stack of pancakes for himself. He loaded them onto a tray, and moved slowly back into the bedroom. He paused in the doorway to stare at his partner.

She was gorgeous, with her hair flowing down her back, sitting on his bed like she belonged there. He met her eyes and a thought whipped through his head. I love her.

He almost dropped the food at the realization.

I am in love with Pock.

Pock noted the stricken, almost frightened look on Jim's face, her eyes narrowing and her lips parting in concern. She cocked her head slightly to the left, brushing a bit of hair from her face. She wasn't used to the sensation of it hanging down against her shoulders. She was used to it tightly bound, high on her head and out of the way.

"Are you well?" she asked.

Jim gave her a brilliant smile. "I'm fine, kitten," he said, moving across the room and sitting back down on the bed next to her. "Just thinking. Dangerous pastime, you know," he said, smirk on his face. He picked up his fork, and started cutting up his pancakes.

He'd found comfort foods, like pancakes, were something the replicator could handle pretty well.

He watched as the hair that she had just moved fell back down into her face, and he reached across, gently sweeping it to the side and tucking it behind her ear softly.

Pock accepted the food as Jim returned to his place next to her. He smirked, and she smirked back. "Indeed it is," she replied. "Especially for you." She lifted her own fork and began to lift small, dainty bites of the food to her mouth.

There were a few silent moments between them as they ate.

Then, without warning, Jim reached over, brushing her hair from her face. Normally, she would stiffen or flinch, but for some reason she did neither at Jim's unexpected contact. She liked it. Contact without warning normally made her uncomfortable. His did not.

What did that mean? she wondered.

Jim smiled at her softly, before taking another bite of his pancakes. His mind whirled with his realization that he was in love with Pock. How had he fallen this far, this fast? Even his past girlfriends, he'd never truly been in love with.

What was so special about Pock that she managed to draw him in, and make him feel like a 12-year-old again, falling for someone for the first time? How did she manage to make him feel all these emotions so strongly?

He finished off his pancakes, and silently watched her for a moment.

His only question was, would she ever care for him as much as he did for her?

Pock caught his gaze from below her lashes, smirking. "You are staring," she observed. "Is there any particular reason?

Not that she minded. She herself observed him rather thoroughly as well. The rugged charm of his demeanor, the masculine beauty of his features. He was rather aesthetically pleasing, if she were to be frank in her assessment.

Jim snapped out of his revery, and smiled at her. He could go the cheesy, dorky route, or he could just smirk and brush it off. "Nope, kitten," he said, cupping her cheek with his hand. "Just looking at the most beautiful person in the room."

Okay, so he'd gone the cheesy, dorky and romantic route. That was fine.

Pock lifted an eyebrow.

"There are only two people in this room, Jim, myself included," she quipped. "To say I am the most beautiful woman in the room is not much of a compliment, unless I am being compared to the lamp."

Playfully, her eyes flitted to the lamp. "In which case, it is quite an aesthetically pleasing lamp..."

His hand moved from her cheek to play with her hair a bit more, a grin on his face. "Except, I didn't say most beautiful woman in the room. I said person. Therefore..." he trailed off to press a soft kiss to her lips. "It's one hell of a compliment."

Pock chuckled as Jim pulled slowly away from the kiss.

"I see," she said playfully. "In that case, to be valued above the infamous ego of James T. Kirk is quite the compliment indeed."

She placed a soft kiss of her own to his lips, lacing her arms around his neck loosely.

Jim's arms wrapped around her, and stood up with her in his arms. He spun her around, a grin on his face and his eyes sparkling. He set her on her feet, and smiled down at her. He pressed a soft, sweet, loving kiss to her lips.

He wasn't quite ready to say the words out loud yet, but there was no reason for him to not say what he felt for her with his actions.

He pulled back, and smiled down at her. One arm stayed wrapped tightly around her waist, and his hand came up to play with the loose, dark hair.

Pock yelped as Jim lifted her, beaming widely and laughing more loudly than she ever had in Jim's company. Butterflies poured into her stomach and danced their way into her chest, tickling the edges of everything that she was. "Put me down! No!" she laughed.

He sat her down on her feet. She laughed once more, then caught herself. She was a Vulcan. She was not supposed to do that. She cleared her throat, controlling herself. The smile faded forcibly once more, but still her eyes laughed brightly and clearly.

She kissed him back when he kissed her.

"That was illogical," she whispered, meeting his eyes. The corners of her lips twitched in amusement.

His heart thumped wildly in his chest as she laughed. Her eyes still showed her laughter at his actions. His hand carded through her hair as he smiled brightly down at her. "I'm an illogical human, remember?" he murmured back. He leaned his forehead against hers, kissing the tip of her nose. He pulled back to press kisses to both her cheeks, her forehead, and finally, her lips.

She chuckled into the kiss. "How could I forget?" she purred, her fingers twisting at the hair on the back of his neck. She smirked up at him, then placed a gentle kiss of her own against his lips. He was warm and solid against her, impossibly real. She was not sure how long he would stay with her, or how he felt about her exactly, but for now, this was enough. Anything with him was plenty and then some.

He pulled her closer to him, failing to suppress the shudder that ran down his spine as she kissed him. Sometimes he wondered if she knew the effects she had on him. In some ways, he hoped she never found out, because that would make her coming to her senses about him just that much harder. "Is there anything special you want to do today? Since we're only working on 'administrate details', of course."

Pock shook her head. "This was your idea," she stated simply. "I am at your mercy for the day, Captain, and our schedule of activities is at your discretion." She continued to play with his hair, content to remain there for just a moment longer, doing nothing but staring into his eyes.

Jim smirked, untangling his hands from her hair and placing his hands on her hips. He let their eye contact continue, as he murmured, "Dance with me then?"

Pock lifted an eyebrow. "An interesting choice," she observed. Nonetheless, she took the proper position that he had taught her for dancing. "But I am a woman of my word, and therefore I shall dance. Fault me not if I damage something."

Jim gave her a genuine smile. He had a feeling she'd pick it up eventually. He waltzed her over to where his iPod was, and flipped through it quickly. He put on another playlist of slow music, and hit play. The music wafted through the room, the gentle vibrations shaking the air. He began moving to the beat. "Not much breakable in here, kitten, so don't worry."