Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the Star Trek franchise, nor am I making any profits from the writing below. Star Trek is owned by Gene Roddenberry, Paramount, and J.J. Abrams and whoever else officially have rights to Star trek . I am none of these people, so please don't sue me.

.

Honey, It's Me or the Science Project!

.

Chapter 1: Of Empty Beds and Empty Hearts

.

It was late in the night on board the USS Enterprise as she languidly cruised through the star-filled blackness of space. Most of the ship's crew was fast asleep in their beds, while a skeleton crew was still up and about, making sure the ship ran smoothly through the night. However, there was one among those who was still awake who was not still conscious for the sake of running a smooth ship. From where he lay in his bed inside his private quarters, Jim Kirk was wide awake despite having actually gotten into bed hours ago. The off-duty captain let out a small, frustrated growl before he turned onto his back ans stared up at his ceiling with a slightly baleful glare. However, it wasn't long before the glare turned into a look of deep sadness. With a small sigh, Jim turned his head to the side so he could look at the other side of the bed. The sight that greeted Jim had his look of sadness deepening as he slowly turned onto his other side so that he now lay facing the other half of the bed.

The empty half of the bed.

Jim reached out and gently grazed his head over the untouched pillow and sheets. They were cool to his touch, and it only served to make Jim feel worse. This night marked the fourth night that Jim had been resigned to got to bed all by himself.

For anyone else this would not have been such a big deal, but for anyone that had a spouse that they were madly in love with, it was nothing short of the worst kind of torture, plain and simple. Such was the case for Jim as he felt a dull ache settle over his heart, couple with a deep seated loneliness that wouldn't go away no matter how many times he tried to banish it to the back of his mind.

He just missed Spock so badly, it was almost like a physical pain. It did not matter at all that Spock was merely holed up in the science labs just a few deck below, yet again working late into the night. But for Jim, it felt like Spock may as well have been on a whole other planet for all he knew.

About a week earlier, the Enterprise had encountered the extraordinary people of the newly discovered planet call Corvinus I. The Corvinians were a peaceful race, and had welcomed Jim and his crew with open arms. The Enterprise's crew had enjoyed three wonderful days filled with lively tours of the great cities, and an exchange of friendship and good will. Jim and the others had been instantly liked by the people, and they in turn had grown quite fond of the Corvinians. When it had finally been time to part, it had been with great reluctance.

The Corvinian's ruler, a wonderful and wise Empress who was wise despite being a young woman around Jim's age, had presented them with a unique parting gift. She had presented Jim with what looked like a glass-sphere filled with what she described as 'the source'. In simple terms, it was a small sample of the one of the energy sources the Corvinians used to power their great capitol city.

Sure, the Corvinian Empress may have presented the gift to Jim, but a very fascinated Spock had just about claimed it as his own once they had beamed back aboard the ship. The Vulcan had been so focused on the Corvinian Sphere, he had barely given Jim any words of explanation before he was hurrying away to the Science lab with the sphere.

That had been a full two weeks ago, and Spock had not relinquished the sphere since. It seemed to Jim that the analysis and dissection of the sphere had become the center of Spock's world. Yes, Spock was always there for duty every day on the main bridge, but as soon as he was done, he was off to the labs without so much as a word or glance to Jim. Even when he wasn't in the lab, all Spock seemed to want to talk about was the fascinating properties of the sphere. For Jim it was like his husband was there sitting across from him at the table, but he really wasn't there at all. It was like the sphere took precedence over anything and everything else. The happenings of the ship, the latest gossip that floated around, even chess seemed to be at the very back recesses of Spock's mind. For Jim it felt like all of his husband's interest and time was focused solely on the glass ball full of swirling, silvery-blue stuff that was back at the lab.

In addition, Jim had tried to reach out to Spock through the Vulcan marriage bond that connected them. For all of his efforts, all Jim received was rebuff after rebuff. At first, they had been assuring, but after about a few dozen attempts to reach out to Spock in this manner, Jim started to feel Spock's quiet annoyance through the bond, so he stopped trying to get his bondmate's attention this way.

No mater what Jim tried, from using the bond, to the com-link, all he got for his trouble was Spock telling him to call back later because he was currently occupied. For all intents and purposes, Spock was interested only in that ball, and apparently, noting else. Not even Jim.

The feeling of something warm and wet trickling across the bridge of his nose startled Jim out of his musing of that past few days. The young Captain fluidly sat up in bed and reached up to touch his face. When his finger came back wet and shining with a clear liquid, Jim grumbled and roughly swiped at his face, wiping away the moisture that had collected in his eyes.

Jim shook his head in disgust of himself. Here he was, Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the USS Enterprise, crying in the middle of the night over the fact that his bondmate wasn't there to be his personal teddy bear. Jim knew that what Spock was doing was important to him, and that he himself was, in his opinion, being rather childish about the whole thing.

Sooner or later, Spock would be done with the Corvinian sphere, and then things would be just fine. Things would go back to normal at last.

At least, Jim hoped that would be the case.

With a small scoff, Jim rose from the bed and made his way over to the personal replicator that was situated by the door to his bedroom. He stood before it and punched in the code for what he desired. A few moments later, a small mug of lukewarm chocolate milk was materializing in the replicator. Jim picked up the mug by its handle and took a deep sip, enjoying the warm, rich taste of the chocolate milk. But the enjoyment soon faded as Jim's mind brought up that one time during his and Spock's time in San Francisco after they got married, where Spock had accidentally ingested so hot chocolate. It had led to Jim witnessing a slightly tipsy Vulcan for the first time in his life. It had been absolutely wonderful, especially when Jim had been there to ease Spock's embarrassment once he had sobered up.

Jim was taken out of his musings by the stark reality he found himself in now. With a small sigh, Jim quickly drained the mug of warm milk and set it back down in the replicator, where it promptly disappeared. Jim then turned away and headed back to bed. But instead of climbing back under the covers, Jim sank down over the edge of the soft mattress and stared out at the stars as they lazily passed by his bedroom window.

Jim found himself smirking humorlessly as his blue eyes tracked the many points of light as they passed. At least the stars never had to deal with what he found himself dealing with now. As far as he knew, the stars of the Universe were just orbs of gas and other particles that did nothing but shine, and go supernova after millions of years. They didn't have to command of star ship, they didn't have to be responsible for four hundred plus lives, and they didn't have marriages they had to do everything they could to make work.

Jim shook his head again and his irrationality. This was nothing, and yet he was feeling this way about it. Spock was at heart a scientist, and what he was doing down in the labs was important to him, really important. Jim knew he had to take this into consideration above all else.

But that didn't mean that he couldn't find the situation particularly difficulty, because it really was.

Jim roughly scrubbed at his face again, he was not going to go and do that again. With a final look at the passing stars, Jim climbed back under the covers and lay on his side facing the empty half of the bed, Spock's half. Knowing that laying like this would not really help him reach his intended goal of finally falling asleep, Jim turned away from the empty half of the bed, effectively turning his back to it.

He lay like that for a good minute before he was twisting back around and reaching for Spock's pillow. Now feeling infinitely glad that he was by himself, Jim turned back onto his side facing away from Spock's half of the bed, and held the pillow close. Jim breathed in deep, his sense of smell detecting the faint traces of the scent that lingered on the pillow.

The faint scent of what smelled like sandalwood and regulation soap.

The very essence of Spock's scent.

Feeling only the most marginal of comforts from this, Jim forced himself to relax and was soon drifting off into what was a restless sleep at best.

His final thoughts before he drifted off, were that he really hoped that Spock would be here in the morning, maybe sleeping beside him, or in deep meditation by the foot of the bed. Jim really didn't want a repeat of the past few days, where he woke up only to see a dressed and ready for duty Spock walking out the door, or worse, no Spock at all.

Jim really hoped that this time, when he woke up, Spock would be there to greet him.

Jim really hoped that this morning would be different from the other mornings.