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You Could Call It Love

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EPILOGUE


“Jim, this is highly illogical.”

“Yes,” Jim said and placed his palm onto Spock’s back only that he would know right away if Spock tried to flee, “I know. I love it. I’ve always wanted to try.”

“I estimate that there is a significant possibility that thing is actually dangerous.”

“A significant possibility? Am I not going to get a number? Like, perhaps a few decimals?”

“Jim,” Spock said, “there are currently twenty-seven point two humanoids in the hearing distance of the two of us. I request that you refrain from flirting with me until we are in private.”

“Twenty-seven point two humanoids? You’re the one who’s flirting, Mr. Spock.”

“That is not the case, since I am a Vulcan and therefore incapable of flirting,” Spock said with a raised eyebrow that suggested he thought he had won this round, “Sir.

“Don’t Sir me when there are people around, First Officer,” Jim said, “or the poor fellows will think that we’re flirting.”

“I fail to see how addressing you formally counts as flirting,” Spock said. His presence in Jim’s mind was grinning.

“You do?” Jim said, trying to look like he believed it. “Oh, let me show you how it works. Later, when we’ve returned to our ship, is there a chance that you would let me, say, stroke the back of your hand, First Officer?”

“Captain,” Spock said, “that is highly inappropriate –“

“Yeah. I know. And you’re blushing.”

“Jim, if I might ask that we save this discussion for later. We should focus on participating an illogical and possibly dangerous activity that you have kindly chosen for us.”

“Oh, yes. For our date.”

“I do not understand why you keep insisting calling it a date.”

“I kind of missed our wedding, Spock,” he said, “and our bonding as well. Let me have this.”

“Jim, you definitely were there for our wedding,” Spock said, “and our bonding.”

“Oh, I know. But I didn’t know I was in love with you.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “That is indeed very surprising as otherwise you are more than averagely clever for a human.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spock,” he said. “Shall we go?”

“I fail to see why it would be pleasant to experience a fear of death in our free time when it is a constant part of our job.”

“I’m sure we won’t die. These things were pretty safe already back in the twentieth century.”

“As you constantly fail to assure me regarding their safety, I must assume that you are doing it on purpose.”

“Spock,” Jim said and turned to face him, “this is our first date and I really want to ride a roller coaster with you.”

“Usually I find it hard to resist letting you do what you wish with me,” Spock said but there was a hint of smile in his tone, or more than a hint, and a soft look in his eyes that suggested that he loved Jim, really loved, and Jim had a quite good idea that the look wasn’t new at all. “However, this time I find it rather easy.”

“Please,” Jim said.

“It’s made of wood,” Spock said.

“It’s vintage.”

“I am rather certain you will scream,” Spock said, “and that will be unpleasant for me since I have an excellent sense of hearing.”

“Just let me hold your hand,” Jim said, “and I promise I won’t scream. At least not much. I think screaming is the point of the whole thing.”

“Very well. But after this I wish us to attend the scientific museum I mentioned earlier.”

“I remember,” Jim said, “history of research of humanoid cells all packed into a four hour show.”

“I sincerely hope that you are not mocking me, Jim. It would be very rude of you since I believe your cultural customs regarding marriage suggest that you should be supportive of my interests.”

“Oh, I’m definitely not mocking you.”

“You are mocking me right now.”

“You’re becoming fluent in human, Mr. Spock,” Jim said and grinned.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him and then began walking towards the roller coaster that really looked quite dangerous. Jim followed. He soon realized that the roller coaster actually was quite frightening and that he couldn’t stop himself from screaming once or twice. It was definitely a good thing that Spock was there with him, holding his hand.