AN: So, a new chapter. I still have no clue where this story is going but it's a hell of a lot of fun to write! There's a hint in this chapter of upcoming angst but no evil cliffhanger. . . yet. *evil grin*

I want to give a great big hug to everyone who reviewed, and added this story to their favorite/alert list. You guys are awesome. To my anonny's and pm disabled reviewers, thank you for taking the time to leave me your thoughts.

Angie: I want to assure you that Amanda will remain alive in this fic. I couldn't do that to Spock, he's gonna have enough on his plate to handle now that he knows Jim.

And, just a warning: I don't know what's going to happen from chapter to chapter so I can't forewarn for content. I will, however, put any necessary warnings in the author's note before each chapter. The only warning for this chapter is Jim's ever-present potty mouth and a slight struggle with self-confidence that Winona handles quickly and efficiently. =)

On with the show!

EDIT 6/25/2013: Now beta'd by notboldly. . All remaining mistakes are mine. MINE! You can't have them! New chapters soonish.

"Are you almost done?"

Jim barely heard his mom as he scanned the display rack in front of him. He couldn't decide which one would be best. The gray cashmere seemed appropriate, but it was so boring. Spock had enough boring already, Jim didn't want to add to it. The multi-colored striped monstrosity was calling to him, but he could just imagine the look he'd get if that was what he offered up. Of course, he could always give a gift receipt and Spock could return it if he really, really hated it. Jim chewed his lip, thinking over the options when Winona pressed against his back, hooking her chin over his shoulder and sighing heavily into his ear.

"You wanna tell me again what we're doing at the mall on my first night back? I thought we'd be comatose on pizza by now."

Jim shrugged, jostling her head until she stepped back, then in front of him blocking his view.

"I ruined Spock's scarf with all my bleeding and he's sensitive to the cold so I just thought I'd get him a replacement. Good manners and all." Jim attempted to peer around his mom but she swayed with him, trying to catch Jim's attention.

"Well, if he plans to stick around he better get used to it." At Jim's huff, Winona turned to the rack holding too many options for such a simple accessory and pulled a black wool scarf down and pressed it against Jim's chest in triumph. "There. Done. Pizza please."

"Mom! Just, no. That's too rough. He'll be all itchy! And, he has like, a trillion black things already." Jim nudged his mom aside and replaced the offensive item.

"Okay. Then how about the blue?"

"Nuh-uh. It's the wrong blue."

"The wrong blue."

"Yeah, it's way too dark. And this grey is something like what he had but it's so boring. I know I'm only getting him a replacement but it's still from me so it should look like it's from me, right? But if I get him the one I want to get him he'll do that little freak out with his eyebrows and then I'll call him on it and he'll get huffy and I haven't figured out how to de-huffify him yet."

"First, de-huffify is not a word. Second, you are the cutest little thing ever right now." Winona squeezed his cheek before Jim could dodge out of the way. He squealed and swatted at her when she moved to get the other side.

"What is wrong with you?!"

"My baby's got his first crush." Jim stared in horror, mouth opening and closing at the ridiculousness of her words and the way she crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself in an apparent show of happiness.

"Oh my God. I do not, it's not...I hate you." Jim grabbed a scarf and marched away with as much dignity as he could muster with a burning face. He was waiting for the clerk to finish gift wrapping it, when Winona slumped against the counter and stared up at him with her damn knowing eyes.

"I'm not talking to you." Jim kept his attention on the clerk folding tissue paper over the garment, concealing it from immediate view before placing the lid on the box. The unsmiling clerk held up two rolls of decorative paper and Jim pointed to the maroon roll embossed with silver swirls.

"Okay." Oh, Jim was well aware that Winona's casual acceptance was anything but. He steeled himself, preparing for the silent treatment that was the only way to effectively derail his mom when she got a crazy idea into her head. And it was crazy. Spock was his friend. And she needed to know this so he told her, breaking his silence after all of seven and a half seconds.

"And it's not a crush. I don't-we're just friends. Okay?"

"Okay." Jim shot Winona a glare before returning his gaze to the box that was being taped up at an excruciatingly slow pace.

"Why would you even...I mean, where would you even get such an idea? It's ridiculous. I mean, he's Spock. He's got a freaking bowl cut, for crying out loud." Jim's fingers clenched against the countertop as he stared hard at the clerk, trying to will him to move faster without success. "And he's Vulcan and super smart and knows every damn thing. He's almost always right, which is irritating, and he's overprotective. Acting like I can't take care of myself and he has to be my freaking bodyguard. Damn irritating Vulcan."

"Just for the record, that little diatribe right there? Does nothing to convince me you don't have a crush on Spock."

"I'm. Not. Talking to you." Jim gritted out as the clerk finally placed the box in a store bag and tossed it carelessly on the counter.

"Fine." Jim then died a million little deaths when Winona licked her hand and used it to smooth his cowlick. He grabbed his bag, ignored the mean-spirited smirk from the clerk, and ran from the store, Winona trailing behind him and laughing loudly.

~`.`~`.`~

"You totally don't have to keep it. I got you a receipt so you can exchange it for something you like. But I just thought that you'd maybe like this one. I know you'd never pick it out for yourself but it's really warm and since you don't have one anymore-"

"Jim." Jim used the interruption to breathe. His chest was heaving and if his heart beat any faster it would explode. It was stupid. His mom was right. (About the scarf! Jesus.) The wool would have been perfect, classic even. Totally Spock. Not like the stupid, illogical one he'd picked out. "Is it not customary to allow one to open a gift first, before judgments are made about said gift?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I just-"

"Also, I do not understand why you have procured another gift for me. It is not a Terran holiday, nor my date of birth, which I must stress I do not celebrate."

"Okay. Whatever. Just open it already and put me out of my misery." At Spock's raised eyebrow Jim nudged him and mock glared until Spock began peeling back the strips of tape methodically. "You're supposed to just rip into it."

"As it is my present, I will open it as I see fit."

Jim threw himself back against the couch, crossed his arms and tried to calm the fuck down. He watched Spock peel back the tissue paper to reveal the striped cotton below, then set the box aside.

"Thank you, Jim."

"That's it?" Jim felt himself deflate. His anxiousness fading to be quickly replaced with disappointment and the tiniest bit of hurt.

"Is that not the appropriate response?"

"Yes, but…" Spock raised that damn eyebrow again and Jim swallowed his words. "Nothing."

"Very well, I believe it would be prudent to begin our English papers."

"I can't. Um, I told mom I'd have dinner on when she got home." Jim choked on the lie as it left his mouth. The urge to flee was instinctive and he couldn't fight it.

"I am amenable to studying at your residence."

"No! I mean, we were planning on hanging out. Me and mom, that is. She's got another job up at the station in a few days so we were planning on, yeah, hanging out." Jim realized that he suddenly sounded crazy and less than eloquent but he didn't have a lot of experience with lying, and it felt wrong to do so with Spock, but he needed to get away to deal with his hurt in private.

"I see."

"Yeah. Um, I'll see you tomorrow. Good luck on your paper. I'll see myself out."

Jim all but ran from the house. It was stupid. Of course Spock didn't like the scarf. What had he been thinking, buying a Vulcan a rainbow to wear around his neck? Jim dropped his bag on the floor as he face planted into the couch. And he'd lied. He'd told a whopper right to Spock's face all because of a stupid scarf.

He didn't know how long he lay there wallowing in his self-loathing but his thoughts were momentarily interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and then banging closed. He could hear the rustling of plastic bags then his mom's voice calling out from the foyer.

"Hey baby-doll! I got us Chinese, and I was thinking that next Saturday we could go looking at cars. What do you-" Jim squinted up from the cushions to see Winona holding bags of take-out and staring at him with concern. "What happened?"

"He didn't like it." The bags hit the floor and Winona was kneeling beside him, running long fingers through his hair.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry. He said he didn't like it?"

"No. He just set it down and thanked me."

"Well, if he didn't say, how do you really know? He's Vulcan, Jim. He's not going to openly fawn over a material item."

"I could tell. He didn't like it. I suck." Winona sat back and trailed her hand over Jim's back, alternating between caressing circles and soothing scratches.

"That's a stretch. How'd you get from point A to point B, just now?"

Jim rubbed his face against the cushions and sniffed. He wasn't crying. He wasn't.

"I knew he wouldn't like it, but I bought it anyway 'cause it would remind him of me. And he doesn't want to be reminded of me 'cause he's just helping me out with the lessons and I'm less horrible than the kids he was hanging out with. And now I picked the wrong scarf and totally just proved how lame I am. He's going stop talking to me now."

"Wow. Okay." Winona shifted until she was sitting on the coffee table, leaning low to stare derisively into Jim's eyes. "When you were born, the doctors told me I'd had a boy but now I feel like I need to check for a vestigial vagina 'cause that is some grade-A girlishness coming out of your mouth. No, don't you glare at me. You're the one acting like a tween with a broken heart. And a brainless, weak-willed tween at that."

"You suck! Maybe I got it from you."

"You most certainly did not! I've never laid around moping because someone may or may not have disliked a gift. Jesus, I bought your dad a two hundred dollar watch our first year together and he pawned it for tickets to Europe. Did I cry? No. I socked him in the jaw for being an ass, then said yes when he invited me to go with him. Need I remind you that we eloped in Spain?"

"No. But I don't think Spock's gonna take me to Europe. I think he's gonna go get himself a proper scarf and then mock me in his Vulcan way every time he sees a primary color."

"How's he going do that if he's not going to speak to you anymore?"

"I really hate you."

"Sure you do." Winona stood, ruffled Jim's hair then moved to retrieve the bags of food from the floor. "Get up, wipe your face and put on something girly so I can mock you over my Kung Pow."

~`.`~`.`~

Jim woke on the couch, a plate of General Tso's half-eaten on the table and a post-it duct taped to his forehead.

'Don't even think about skipping school! Man up and grow some balls. Love you, Mom.'

Jim rolled over with a groan, caught sight of the time and nearly split his head open again -this time on the coffee table- in his mad rush to get ready. By the time he was ready to go, he was convinced that Spock was thoroughly done with him and that they would be back to fifty paces between them. So, when he jerked open the front door to see Spock walking up the snow-covered path with his rainbow-striped scarf wrapped around his neck and trailing down to mid-thigh, Jim could only stare in shock.

"I will not have access to the aircar this afternoon as my mother has need of the vehicle. If you have no alternative plans, I had thought we could work on our English papers this evening. However, if you are not amenable to the idea, I will, of course, understand."

"You didn't have to wear it."

"Wear what, Jim?"

Jim latched the door behind him and walked past Spock, trying to act aloof even though he was dancing inside over the appearance of the stupid scarf. God, he was a brainless tween.

"The scarf. I know it's not your style. You don't have to wear it if you don't want to."

"It provides a sufficient amount of warmth." Spock ran a gloved hand over the material trailing down his side. "Also, it was a gift from you. I do not understand why you believe I would not make use of it."

"It's just not like your old one, that's all." Jim tried to quell the burst of giddiness that was rapidly taking over his body. Spock's next words made the task impossible.

"It is more functional than my previous garment, as the wool irritated my skin."

"Yes! Right?"

"Indeed."

"So, English papers. Did you decide which topic to write about? I'm leaning towards the symbolism of Joyce."

Jim lost himself in the conversation and kept glancing at the brightly colored scarf layered over Spock's black winter wear. He was relieved that he hadn't screwed up such a small thing. He hadn't had a friend in a long time and he didn't want to lose Spock. It was nice having someone who wasn't his mom around every now and again.

~`.`~`.`~

The bitter cold of February was having a hard time letting go. Two weeks into the new month, Jim found himself curling into himself to ward off the cold as he battled the wind, the stupid milk for the stupid pudding that he had to have clenched tightly against his chest. Okay, it would totally be worth it once he got home and whipped up a comforting bowl of banana pudding but right now the pudding could suck it.

It was pathetic. Really. He'd had a friend for all of five weeks, he could go a day without seeing him. And so what if Winona was working and Sam hadn't bothered to pick up a fucking comm to call him. It was just another day. Not a big deal in the slightest. Everyone turned sixteen, he shouldn't be so miserable because he had to delay being happy about his stupid milestone.

Jim staggered into the house, the wind tugging the door from his hands before he managed to clasp it behind him. Foul mood set, Jim stalked into the kitchen and slammed the milk onto the counter. Apparently, fate wanted to teach him a lesson about some fucking thing because the plastic split down the side and cold milk gushed over the counter, across the floor and covered Jim from the chest down.

"Son of a fucking bitch!" Unbelievable, Jim thought. He tore off his jacket and threw it across the room where it landed in a sodden heap. With fury boiling inside him, Jim stomped into the laundry room and tugged on dry sweats and a semi-clean T-shirt before grabbing the shop-vac to suck up the milk. Turning off the humming, slurping machine, Jim heard the tail end of a message before the answering machine beeped off.

"Fucking great. What now?" Before Jim could play the message the comm started ringing again. Jim flipped it open and leaned against the counter in defeat. This day could just not get any worse for him.

"What?"

"Jim?"

Jim instantly straightened, running a hand over his shirt trying to smooth out wrinkles that couldn't be seen by the caller.

"Oh, hey. What's up Spock?"

"I have returned home early and I would like to extend an invitation for dinner."

"Oh." Jim looked over at the remains of the milk jug and then at his ratty clothes and had to admit that he really didn't want to deal with anything at the moment. "Um. I don't think tonight's a good night, Spock."

"I would not oppose ordering a pizza for this evening's meal." Jim smiled at that. Spock didn't care for pizza; he tolerated it at best.

"Thanks Spock, but I'm kinda in a funk today and I don't think I'd be good company." Jim frowned at the lengthy silence that followed. "Spock, is everything alright?"

"I-" Jim heard something muffle the phone and low murmuring he couldn't decipher before, "I believe I am in need of a friend this evening. If you would not mind joining me this evening, I would appreciate your company."

Worry spiked through Jim and had him toeing on his shoes even as he responded. "Sure, Spock. Of course, I'll be right over." Jim thought he heard the phone fumble before the connection ended. His worry ratcheted up another notch and he grabbed a coat from the closet, bright green and two sizes too small, before stumbling through the side door and scrambling across the ice-covered driveway before stepping into the rear entryway of the Greyson household.

"Spock!" Jim entered the dark house, his heart pounding loudly in his ears at the lack of response. Slowly, with quiet steps, Jim entered the living room. Lights suddenly blinded him, as did the flurry of balloons and confetti that filled the air around him.

"Surprise!"

Jim blinked away his confusion to see the mom squad smiling broadly over their success, and Spock standing off to the side, hands clasped behind his back and a slight green blush covering his cheeks.

"What? When did you-"

"I got you. Finally! You, Mr. I-ruin-every-surprise, just got had. You had no clue. Admit it. Tell me you had no clue." Winona's expression flowed with her words from jubilant to glaring suspicion. Jim could only surrender the truth.

"Hey, I had no idea. Really. And, wow, I thought Vulcan's couldn't lie." Jim eyed Spock while accepting hugs from his mom and Amanda.

"Spock didn't lie, sweetie. He actually made me take him to run errands. We just finished early to decorate and get everything set up. Your mother, on the other hand, lied through her teeth to pull this off. Don't learn from her, Jim, she's a horrible person."

"Oh, I know!"

"Hey! I do it out of love, baby-doll."

"Get the cake, Win. I'll get the presents ready. Oh, and Jim, there will be karaoke." With that warning, they dispersed to leave Jim and Spock alone in awkward silence.

"So, um, hey." Jim felt totally lame in his too small jacket that stopped two inches above the wrist and his holey sweat pants.

"Surprise." The quietly spoken word left Spock's mouth and landed in Jim's stomach to flutter about crazily.

"I thought Vulcan's didn't celebrate birthdays?"

"You are not Vulcan."

"That's splitting hairs, Spock."

"Our mothers were insistent that this anniversary of your birth was of significant importance and that it was traditional for family and friends to participate in a celebratory manner."

"So, does that mean you're going to sing?" Jim couldn't keep the smirk from his face as he stripped off his jacket and laid it over a chair.

"Negative."

"Come on, Spock! For me? It's my birthday, after all. You can consider it your present to me."

"As I have already procured your gift, my vocal accompaniment is unnecessary."

"You got me a gift?" Jim felt something tighten in his chest at the thought of Spock selecting an item especially for him. Spock got him a present. Spock. Got him. A present.

"Indeed." Jim watched with wide, shock-filled eyes as Spock retrieved a large, heavy box from behind the sofa and place it in front of Jim on the table. "I believe you will find it suitable."

Jim reached for the box, noticing from the corner of his eye as Spock fiddled with the edge of the tabletop before hiding his hands away behind his back. Was Spock nervous that he wouldn't like his gift? Jim felt a smile spread across his face at that thought and quickly shredded the paper and tore off the lid. He hesitated at the tissue paper to smirk up at Spock.

"That's how you open a gift." At Spock's half-hearted glare, Jim laughed, pulled aside the thin paper and stopped breathing. "Spock."

"I recalled your interest and deduced that you did not purchase the item because of its cost."

Jim caressed the cover of the book before carefully lifting it from its container with both hands. He laid it gently on the table and opened it to the same page he had been reading when Spock had found him at the store. The entry on the Kelvin and George Samuel Kirk encompassed three pages total and included his fathers' Starfleet graduation photo, as well as a small biography.

"It's too much, Spock."

"Do you- is it a satisfactory present?"

Jim couldn't help himself and he wrapped his arms around Spock in a tight embrace, which he ended abruptly when he felt Spock tense at the contact.

"Shit. Sorry. Just...It's perfect Spock. Thank you."

Spock took a discreet step away and nodded in acknowledgement before coughing quietly, and looking anywhere but at Jim.

They were saved from the awkward silence by the suspiciously timed re-appearance of the mom squad carrying a Starship shaped cake and singing off-key.

~`.`~`.`~

Jim bounded downstairs after depositing his gifts in his bedroom, and stepped up beside his mom in front of the fireplace. On the mantle, as was tradition, were three votive candles sitting in front of the only real family picture they had. Five-year old Sam dangled upside down from George's arms in mid-swing while Winona laughed from her seated position on the ground, a hand resting atop her abdomen above the slight bump that was Jim. That was their last day of shore leave before returning to the Kelvin and what was supposed to be a quick tour before taking an extended family/maternity leave for Jim's birth. Instead, the Kelvin came under attack five months in, Jim was born five weeks early, and his father had sacrificed his life in order to save that of his family and his crew.

Wordlessly, Winona handed him a match and striker, keeping a set for herself. With bowed heads they thought of their loss and the gifts they had received from it. After a moment, they lit their matches and in unison lit two of the votives before moving as one and lighting Sam's in his stead. Winona grabbed Jim and pulled him against her, pressing a kiss into his hair, sobbing quietly over a man she would never stop loving, would never stop missing. Jim could only hold her back and think that about the man he had never known, couldn't miss properly and would love forever.

~`.`~`.`~

The weather was finally being less bitchy, shining almost-warm sun across melting piles of snow and ice, the air still and calm, fucking birds actually chirping as they enjoyed the brief respite from winter. Jim clenched his hands around the steering wheel and swallowed the ungrateful curses that bubbled up from his churning stomach. It was time; he couldn't put it off any longer and he wanted nothing more than to jump from the aircar and run, run, run.

"I believe this is an appropriate location to begin."

Jim slowed the car to a stop and disengaged ground control with shaking hands. He felt the engine shift and hum as the aerial controls activated and the car began to rise from the comforting earth below. Sweat dappled his brow, nausea churned through him and a curse slipped over his tightly compressed lips. A warm hand settled atop his briefly before the contact was gone like it had never happened.

"You are ready, Jim."

With a mental shake, Jim took a deep breath and pulled back on the wheel to rise to the standard elevation and smoothly accelerated through the air, on route and observing the digital display on the bottom-half of the now, opaque windshield. He verbally activated the viewing option and the upper-half of the windshield returned to its normal transparent state. The sight of so much blue spreading out before him, the landscape far below them brought a grin to Jim's face and eased the tension from his shoulders. He chanced a grin at Spock to see the slightest upturn of lips returned.

"As I said."

Jim laughed.

"It's 'I told you so', Spock."

"That is what I said."

Jim continued laughing as they sailed through the air, the sun drifting through the sky until it retreated to allow starlight its reign. It was a great day and Jim drifted to sleep that evening with the image of stars and Spock's smile engraved on his mind.

~`.`~`.`~

A single piece of paper shattered Jim's new found utopia.

He stared at the words, willing them to read differently but they stubbornly remained unchanged. Two months. In just two months he would have to see him once again. He would be stuffed into a small room and confronted with his past so that that man could make his lawfully granted bid for freedom.

Jim tightened his fist around the document until it was a crumbled mess and seethed in rage and panic. It had been two years since the last time this was necessary. Two years of normalcy and in that time he had allowed himself to believe that the nightmare was just that. How could he have forgotten that this could happen, that it would happen periodically throughout his life until that man won and was free to breathe the same air as Jim?

The sound of the front door opening had Jim fumbling to cram the paper into his pocket and forcing a smile to his face just as his mom rushed into the room.

"I'm sorry I'm late, the Nelson blew a coil and the incompetent interns they keep sending me had no idea what to do or how to do it once I told them. Sorry. I'm ready. You ready? I can't believe today's the day. Soon you're going to be off on your own and I'm going to go mad at the silence filling this house. But only until I find me a nice, handsome piece of man-candy to play with."

"Oh my God! Stop talking now. Please. Jesus, you're gonna scar me for life."

Winona smirked and poked him playfully in the side before grabbing a packet of papers from the counter and sweeping from the room, calling out to him from the foyer.

"Come on, baby boy! We've got to go get you your license."

Jim trailed after her, trying to keep his mind off of the paper burning him through his jeans. It was an impossible task and he failed miserably but he managed to keep it from his mom and pass his test. That was really all he could have hoped for.

~`.`~`.`~

"This one has a five-star rating and is known for its standard safety features." Jim watched Spock peer through the window of a drab, gray auto and then make a notation onto the padd he'd brought for just that purpose. "Its cost is less than average and is visibly less worn than what we have seen thus far."

Jim sighed and leaned back against a newer, shinier model of what Spock was looking at. This was their fourth stop and the seventh vehicle Spock had deemed appropriate. Jim hadn't yet seen anything to peak his interest. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for but it clearly wasn't the super safe sub-compacts that Spock had in mind.

"Perhaps you should request a test drive to determine if this is suitable to you."

"I don't know, Spock. It doesn't really scream Jim Kirk."

"I do not believe that is a standard option with vehicles."

"Har-har. I don't think it suits me. Let's keep looking."

"It would be helpful if you informed me of what you were expecting." Spock walked after Jim, easily matching his pace as Jim swept his gaze around the lot.

"I'll know it when I see it."

"That is a most inefficient method for procuring an automobile. I have a list of the most popular, highest rated vehicles that match both cost expectations and safety requirements. You have not yet shown an interest in any of these vehicles, despite the logic behind their suitability."

"I'm sorry Spock. I appreciate the effort and thought you put into this. I really do. I just-" Jim snapped his mouth shut when he saw it. It was glorious, magnificent, perfect. He stumbled over to it in a daze, his hand gripping the handle and opening the door before sliding behind the wheel. He grinned widely at Spock before stroking a hand over the console and laying his head against the wheel in bliss.

"Jim, no."

"Yes, Spock."

"This is not on any of my lists. It is unsafe, entirely too old, worn and illogical. You cannot have it."

"This is it, Spock. This is my baby. I feel it in my bones." Jim pasted on his best pout and aimed it at his friend unabashedly. Spock huffed a breath before stalking off. Jim smirked in triumph as Spock stepped over to a salesperson and pointed toward Jim before heading into the dealership, casting a baleful look in Jim's direction as he stepped through the door.

Jim hummed as he slid from the seat and circled the vehicle slowly, taking in its beauty. It was at least twenty years old, a retro design of twenty-first century hauling autos. A pick-up truck, as it were. It had once probably been a shiny dark green but was now faded to a grass-like color, almost a light mint in some areas of increased wear. The rear cargo bed was dented and scratched as if it had been used thoroughly and the automatic cover that would engage during aerial travel may need repaired. Jim loved it immensely.

Spock returned with the keycode and sighed heavily when Jim jumped back into the truck and beckoned Spock to join him. With a satisfied smile on his face, Jim pressed the ignition and at the grumble of the engine there was no going back. Jim had just met the first love of his life.