I don't own any of this, I'm just playing around with the characters.

Burning Bridges, Chapter one.

James Tiberius Kirk had everything in the world. Hell, he even had everything in space. He didn't mean to sound greedy, but what he had just wasn't enough. There was a void inside of him as big as space itself and try as he might, Kirk could find nothing big enough to satisfyingly fill it. He couldn't figure it out- he had everything. He was the captain of his own ship. He had friends. He had Bones, Chekov, Spock. So, he tried to play it off. Tried to be happy. But that was getting difficult, insufferably so. Yes, he had Spock. But Spock had Uhura, with her dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes, and light kiss. Maybe that was it. Maybe love was what Kirk needed, what was bigger than space and what would fill the aching hole inside of him.

But the problem with that was on a spaceship, there was a very limited crowd of people. A crowd that usually didn't differ much. The same people came in and out of the space deck. And Kirk felt no connection to any of them. He spent too much time in that deck up in the atmosphere to pursue anyone who spent their time on the ground.

Jim decided that was the problem, though. He was lonely, and that was that, no matter how pathetic that made him feel. But, he never would say anything about it. He'd gotten too good at hiding it, too good at pretending. He'd just continue suffering quietly. Something would come along eventually. It had to, right?

As if on cue, the door to the bridge slid open and Commander Spock entered. He walked over to Kirk, his back straight, his strides even and consistent, his hair falling in a logically straight line across his forehead.

"Hello, captain."

"Hey, Spock." Kirk said quietly, still half lost in his thoughts.

"You seem perplexed. What troubles you? Perhaps I may shed some light on the situation."

"It's nothing, Spock. Really. Just daydreaming a little."

"Daydreaming. Most illogical. Why ponder situations that will not come to pass?"

Jim furrowed his brow. Spock was always confusingly logical. He informed Spock of the position he would need to be covering, and told him to get to work, dismissing the topic at hand. The rest of the crew filed in, Spock was always five minutes early.

Space was quiet today. There were no new planets to discover, no threats of attacks, no enemy space crafts on the horizon, no black holes eating up entire universes. Kirk loved days like this. The days they peacefully floated through the stars, briefly becoming a part of the constellations. They were a part of the Big Dipper's handle, a link on Orion's belt, the top on Sirius's nose, a shooting star the people on the ground would look up and wish on. However, Kirk almost wanted a planet to be under siege today. It was selfish, but he needed a distraction. He wanted to bark out commands, to feel important, to shoot the phasers. He wanted to get beamed down into a battle and save a planet full of people. He wanted to do something other than watch the way Uhura was looking at Spock, and the subtle, logical way he was looking back.

True, he had once yearned for Uhura. He'd once looked at her with eyes full of affection, but she hadn't been interested. And Spock had stolen her before he could pursue her further. And Kirk could see why. Spock was tall, and the soft fabric of his shirt didn't hide the defined muscles of his chest. He'd lured her out of the playing field with his soft human eyes and large Vulcan…mind. Kirk found himself gazing in Spock's direction, amused by the way the lights shone in his hair. He blushed slightly and turned away, fiddling with a few buttons and switches. What was his problem today? He'd been up in this ship for too long. After this mission, he'd take some time off and…oh, who was he kidding? The Enterprise was all he had.

The shift dragged slowly until it was finally time for each of them to retire to their respective rooms. Kirk walked down the hallway to his room, ignoring Spock as he called after him, seeing Uhura lace her fingers into his. Kirk walked away briskly, wondering why the sight left his insides squirming. He was almost to the quiet empty safety of his room, when a booming voice called to him. Kirk stopped and turned to face Bones.

"Hey, Jim! Any plans tonight? What do you say about sharing a drink or two?"

"Um. Not tonight, Bones."

"Oh, how come?" Bones pouted slightly. Jim sighed. Drinking when he was upset was never a good idea. Instead of giving him a pleasant warmth running through his veins, it only left him cold, dizzy and more miserable.

"I'm not in the mood."

"Oh, come on, Jim! Please!"

"Ugh, fine. You act like five year old sometimes, you know that, Bones?"

"You sound like the ex-wife." Kirk snorted and shook his head. He really had just wanted to go in his room and pathetically lay in his bed in the dark. But he knew Bones would not give up until he said yes. And he didn't particularly want an unnecessary hypo in his neck in the morning. So, it looked like he'd be drowning his sorrows in whiskey tonight, even though he knew that it wouldn't end well.

And sure enough, two hours and ten drinks later, Kirk sat in his room, his head buzzing with alcohol. He was inconsolably upset, like he'd known would happen. He starred out of the circular window at the blanket of star he'd become accustomed to. It brought him no comfort tonight, however. All he wanted was sleep, but it seemed so far away, so pointless to even try. He sat against the headboard of his bed, his mind wandering as he gazed at the stars. His eyes started drooping closed, his torso sliding gently sideways. He was almost asleep, so terribly close, when a loud noise sounded in the hallway. A smaller quieter one followed and Jim say straight up and looked around in confusion. He heard the small noise again and placed it- a soft moan. He tumbled out of bed and followed the noise into the bright light of the hallway to investigate.

He got to the end of the hallway, just as the doors to the turbo lift closed. He caught a glimpse of Spock and Uhura, attached by the lips. He pounded the button and got into the next empty elevator. He followed the sounds of Uhura's airy moans to the training room. Not thinking, not wanting to hang around, he flipped the light.

Spock, his normally logically straight hair in a ruffle, pushed Uhura away from his lips. Smugly, she looked at Kirk, shifting her shirt back into place before briskly walking out of the room.

"Captain, I- I can explain."

"Spock, what is this? You of all people! Vulcans, whatever the fuck you are. Is this logical?" Kirk lashed out, hoping the alcohol wasn't weighing too heavily on his tongue.

"Certainly, captain. I love her."

"You don't love her." Kirk said, his blue eyes struggling to stay locked on his friend's. "You can't love her. Isn't it ill..logic..logical?" His words were slurring. Great.

"Illogical? My mind ay be mixed, and the nagging urges to be logical constantly soon gives way to my human urges. Sex, Kirk, is all you humans think about, is it not?"

Kirk tried to focus on Spock's words. He pondered this thought for a while. Yes, he'd seen his fair share of women, but a sudden twinge toward Spock made him want to spring toward the pointy-eared man and caress him. He couldn't tell if it was the alcohol coupled with the loneliness he'd been feeling, or if it was something more. He couldn't get his mind straight long enough to figure it out. It was taking too much concentration to remain standing.

"But you don't love her. I can see it in your eyes."

"I beg your pardon, Captain, but I do indeed love her. And it is logical, for procreation. For I am indeed an endangered species."

"But. You. You fucking can't love her."

"Why not, Captain? I assure you my logic is sound."

"It's not! It. Can't be!"

"Why, sir?"

"Give the captain shit a rest. And I don't fucking know. You just. Can't." Spock opened his mouth to rationalize the situation, but instead of words coming out, Kirk lunged forward and forced his tongue in.

Spock froze, his eyes wide, confused. His mouth hung open around Kirk's tongue. It probed Spock's mouth blindly. Spock retracted his tongue so as not to make contact with his captain's. Spock took a step back, leaving Jim awkwardly standing, mouth open, tongue extended.

"Forgive me, Captain. But this. Is acutely illogical." Kirk closed his mouth, but still stood, not knowing what to say. The Vulcan clasped his hands in front of him. "I shall be leaving now. Goodnight, Kirk." He turned swiftly, back slightly straighter than usual.

"Spock." Kirk called, reaching his hand out. "Fuck, Spock. Wait." The other man stopped and turned back around.

"Yes?"

"I. I love you." Kirk said in a small pathetic voice. And someplace deep inside of him, he knew it wasn't just the alcohol talking.

"Illogical. You are inebriated. You have consumed approximately 12.8 ounces of alcohol. You are not of sound mind. I will be leaving now. You should do the same."

Kirk watched Spock leave through blurry eyes. He couldn't keep his hands still.

"Spock." He slurred quietly as he walked, well stumbled, down the hall and into the lift. He wrapped his arms around himself. His eyes were wet. "Spock. Damn it. I need you."

For the seventy-fifth time that day, Kirk felt pathetic. His buzz was disappearing and being quickly replaced by a pounding head. He made it into his room just as his legs decided they were done walking for the night. Jim slid into his bed and drowned himself in his sheets, trying to shut his eyes- shut out what he'd just done. Even though he was indeed drunk, there was something there when he'd kissed Spock, if you could even call it a kiss. It more of an attack, really. But even so, there was something there, something stronger than the alcohol. Kirk couldn't think straight anymore, this was so confusing- he was too late, his head hurt too much. His mouth tasted distractedly like Spock. He couldn't put another name to it if he tried- just. Spock. It was bliss. Terrible, masochistic bliss. He stared at his ceiling, willing sleep to overcome his buzzing mind.

---

Spock walked back to his room in a minorly flustered daze. His captain had just attempted to kiss him. True, he was drunk, and what was a kiss but a human display of affection? But that was just it- his captain was human. But this. This was illogical. The way Kirk had made his palms sweat and his face hot- he was convinced it was merely out of surprise. But, was that it? Yes, it had to be. But why was his face still hot, then? He hoped he wouldn't run into anyone in the hall, he was sure his cheeks were still tinged green around the edges. Damned Vulcan blush. But why was he even blushing in the first place?! He reached his hand to punch in the code to open his door, but before he was safely inside he felt arms snake around his middle and lips against his neck.

"Spock, we never finished." Uhura breathed.

"Nyota. Not now. It is too late."

"So? I'll come in. We can just…go to sleep." Her words were innocent, but the tone they were spoken in was not.

"That would be illogical. We cannot afford to be fatigued during our shifts tomorrow." Spock turned to face her, but instead of answering, she crushed her lips against his, her hands entwining in his shiny black hair. Abruptly, she pulled away, hands moving to his shoulders and pushing him away.

"Ugh, Spock. Why do you taste like whiskey?"

Spock was sure the blood was rushing back into his face and neck. He opened his door and stepped over the threshold. Uhura tried to follow, but Spock stopped her. "I am sorry, I need to meditate. You cannot be present. Goodnight." He placed a chaste kiss to her lips and closed the door.

He ordered the lights on and awkwardly adjusted his hair. He needed to sort his thoughts. He wasn't sure what he was thinking. The feeling was unfamiliar, uncomfortable, unwelcome. He needed to fix it. He sat down and folded his hands, slowly closing his eyes.

TBC…

Thoughts, please? Should I continue, or is it pointless?