A/N: Guess what, kiddies. It's Valentine's Day. And we all know what that means, rights? Mushy-gushy love stories that are so cute they make you want to vomit. Or...that could just be cold-hearted me ;) Anyway, this is a story I came up with awhile back, and yes, sadly, it will have something to do with the silly holiday eventually. (I couldn't help but succumb to it. Anything that gets a story out of me, right?!) Enjoy, and feedback is always lovely.

This first prologue-chapter-thing goes out to Alphabet Face. Thanks for all your advice and support :)

-Rose

Disclaimer: Star Trek doesn't belong to me. But if it did, I think I'd require the men's uniforms to be pants only ;)

Paper Hearts

Prologue

It all started with that photograph.

Following the destruction of Vulcan, the victory over the Romulans, and the return to Earth, James T. Kirk had been awarded the official captaincy of the U.S.S. Enterprise. The entire population of Starfleet Academy was present at the ceremony, and a celebration was to occur following it. It had been a beautiful award, and as the captain looked adoringly at his badge before leaving the hall, he flashed his close friend and ally, Doctor Leonard "Bones" McCoy, a smile as he filed out of the stands. Jim had been about to join his crew, but he was stopped by Admiral Pike.

"Hold up, son," he had called from his wheelchair in the midst of the crowd. "I want a picture. This a darn special day and it would make your father proud."

Jim had grinned at the admiral, grateful for his help throughout the years."Of course," he replied. He gestured to Bones, nonverbally telling him that he would join him later, but Pike had contradicted him.

"No," he said, "I want your crew in the picture too."

Jim chuckled and nodded, turning his attention back to his friend. "On second thought, Bones, get your medical butt over here," he had said, and the doctor followed suit, with the Ensign Chekov, Sulu, Scotty, and Uhura in tow. They had all contributed to the mission, and it was only right that they were to document the moment as well. Despite that the crowds were densely packed, Jim could still see the grin on the senior medical officer's face. It had been a long and treacherous mission; nevertheless, it had proved successful, and the doctor was pleased along with the rest of the crew.

"Never thought I'd say this," Bones had smirked as he reached Jim, "but I'm damn proud of you." The other man had thrown his head back and laughed as Pike rearranged the group. The six of them stood with the largest of smiles upon their faces as Pike snapped the camera, the flash illuminating their expressions. Jim thought it was truly a day to rejoice, until he saw Chekov's brows furrow in uncertainty.

"Wait," he had said in his Russian accent, "What about Meester Spock?"

Bones clapped a hand to his forehead. "Dammit, Jim, we forgot your First Officer. Where is that pointy-eared hobgoblin, anyway?"

"Go find him, please," Pike said, exasperated. "The sooner you find him, the sooner we can head up to the party." The rest of the crew minus Jim nodded and split off in different directions to find the half-Vulcan.

Jim sighed, ruffling his hair with one hand. His first officer was indeed important, of course, but the captain had selfishly taken his absence as beneficial to himself, for reasons he would not admit. Until Chekov had spoken up, he'd almost forgotten about Spock.

Almost.

Within moments, the figure in question had appeared at Jim's side, one eyebrow arched in slight confusion. "What do you require of me, Captain?" he said, glancing at the human.

"Is it too much to ask for a single picture?" Pike said gruffly. "I don't have all day now. Could we just take this and head off to the celebration?" He fumbled with the camera as Spock protested.

"I do not care to have my photogra—" he began, but Jim cut him off.

"Smile, Spock," he chuckled half-heartedly, knowing full well that when the picture was developed, there would be little to no emotion on his companion's face. He turned to face Pike, grinning, though not as much as before. However, the admiral lowered the camera, wanting to create a better photograph.

"Get in closer," he ordered. "I don't want to cut you off."

Jim shrugged at Spock innocently. "Let's make a memory," he muttered, and brought his hand to Spock's shoulder that was furthest away from him, drawing him into the frame. He couldn't help but hold back a snicker as the muscles tensed under his hand, remembering how Vulcans did not desire touch often, but Spock would just have to deal with it for the sake of the picture. Rather stiffly, Spock raised his arm and mimicked Jim's movements, though it was much less graceful. The two stood side by side, a hand on each other's shoulders as Pike finally smiled.

"Perfect," he said. "Say cheese."

It was at this moment, Spock realized, that his heart was pounding in his side, and he was almost positive that Jim could feel it as his body pressed up against his for the photograph. Time seemed to slow down immensely as Spock forced a partial smile, the camera flashed, and Jim shot him a sidelong glance after the fact. Oblivious to the exchange, Pike looked at the picture on the camera screen instead of the two men in front of him.

"This is gonna be great when it's developed," he had mused. "I'll get you a copy as soon as possible." He placed the camera on his lap and wheeled up the ramp towards the exit in the hopes that there would still be food left to scavenge at the celebration. The moment he turned away, Spock removed the contact from Jim, attempting to get his physical state under control. It didn't help matters that the human was looking at him curiously, ice blue eyes widened with interest. The half-Vulcan said nothing, but nodded curtly, turning around and heading in the direction of the party as well. Kirk grimaced slightly, wishing that Spock had shown the smallest bit of enthusiasm, but he knew that it was a useless attempt. Shrugging once more, he pushed every thought out of his mind and followed Spock's retreating back to the party.

It was this very photograph that lay on the floor in the captain's quarters a year later, the memories and glass frame shattered to a million pieces; and it was then, with bloodstained hands and a broken heart, that Captain James Tiberius Kirk cried.