The only thing Jim ever had of his father were stories passed on to him by his mother. He was told his father died the same day he was born…a hero who saved the lives of his crew by losing his.
While his mother would often choke up talking about him, Jim never forgot those rare instances when his mother opened up about the love of her life George Kirk. Jim remembers the stories she shared of his father, how they met and fell in love. Theirs was a storybook romance, he thought.
At bedtime Little Jimmie would curl up beside his mother and listen attentively about their days at the academy, their first date and wedding day and all those moments that took her breath away about his father. She said, “James, life is not measured by the breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away. Your Dad left me a lifetime of those moments….”
Jim grew up believing in true love hoping there was someone out there for him who would take his breath away and share with him such moments. Jim waited for that magic moment in his life but it never came. His childhood friend Bones once said, “Life doesn't always turn out the way you plan.”
Maybe Bones said it because he was going through a nasty divorce, who knew but it didn't stop Jim from dreaming.
The first time he saw him, Jim was sitting in the park feeding the birds when a Vulcan sat at a nearby table to play chess against an elder patron there. The man was dressed casually, something Jim felt odd about as he had only ever seen Vulcans dressed in robes. Jim figured the man was adapting to life on Earth quite well to don away with traditional Vulcan attire. Nevertheless, the younger man found the Vulcan's features striking. “If this man got along well with humans, maybe would consider being in a relationship with one?” He thought.
Jim tried to rouse himself out of those thoughts because one he didn't know what to say to the man in striking up a conversation. Secondly, Jim didn't think he was worthy of the Vulcan. Supposedly, Vulcans were not casual about relationships, they believed in long lasting ones. Not only that but he knew they were touch telepaths, Jim was fearful of what such a man would think of him. A juvenile delinquent with intelligence but nothing to show for it except a history of getting into trouble ever since his mom left for space.
He sat eating his lunch knowing it would end soon. The shuttle dock were he worked was busy today and Jim needed to make sure he would not be late. He quickly gathering his food and stood up glancing across the park where the Vulcan sat playing chess.
+ + +
After a long day at work, Jim shook his head as he looked up to his apartment window. He wonder how he would get his 6 foot tree upstairs. Even though Jim had no one to celebrate Christmas with, he still bought a Christmas tree, like he did every year. He knew he was going overboard but it was the one thing Jim treated himself to.
Telling himself, “I keep forgetting how hard it is to get a 6' tree up the stairs, instead pulling it up four stories through my window. You'd think for as much money as a Christmas tree costs, they'd deliver, especially since 15 credits gets you Chinese food at your door from Mr. Wongs. I should have gotten a blue spruce, they're lighter.”
Jim figures he can do this and for once he believes he can pull it off (really up), seeing the top branches poking up over the edge of the window. That is until his cat Ivan darts between his legs. Jim shifts to get a better grip but he slips and the rope begins to break free from his fingers, the tree goes flying right through his landlord's window.
“Fuck.” Jim says under his breath.
“Jim!” Yells his landlord Mr. Fusco.
Jim is standing next to Mr. Fusco's desk, where the man is looking at the mess of filling a claim.
“Jim how am I going to write this off with the insurance company?”
“Claim it as natural disaster?” Jim offered as he shrugged his shoulders.
“You know they are still upset over the fire Joe Jr. caused last summer with the cook out he did on the rooftop.”
“I missed that one, how did the food come out?” Jim smiles.
“The sausage was good.” Mr Fusco replies.
Rubbing his head, “Look Mr. Fusco, I'll pay for this.”
“No it's okay my brother is in the glass business, he owes me.”
Jim sets down a small gift on the man's desk. “Merry Christmas.”
“Awe Jim you didn't have to do that.”
“Well, I wanted to.” Jim confesses as he walks to the door.
Just then Joe Jr. barges in, “Hey Pop, do you got that bottle of peppermint schnapps we got from cousin Margie so I can give it to my probation officer?”
“Joe Jr. can't you see we have company?, Say hello.”
Joe Jr. lefts his arms, flexing his biceps and lets his shirt ride up hoping Jim notices his firm abs. “Hello Jim, nice.. umm sweater.”
Pointing to the bottle, Mr. Fusco tells his son, “It's over there.”
As Joe Jr, makes his way to the bottle, Mr. Fusco engages in conversation with Jim over the fact that his son is available. The older man is aware of Jim's preference for males and thinks his son would make an excellence match with Jim.
Jim doesn't say anything to the man, he doesn't have the heart to tell Mr. Fusco he prefers dark haired Vulcans, or one certain Vulcan in particular.