Bread and Water for You

Spock returned to the Wiltshire after dropping Jim off at work. Jim had been willing to call Hikaru to come, or to drive himself, but as Spock was already awake, Jim accepted his offer to take him. That also left Spock with the Ferrari if he wanted to drive it.

Spock went to the imposing front desk of the hotel and inquired as to whether or not Ms Uhura might be available. Only a few minutes passed before she emerged from the back, looking splendid in her black dress, her shoes as shiny as the floor on which they tread.

“How may I assist you, Mr. Spock?” she asked politely. Any discomfort she might have felt at his presence was carefully disguised.

He looked around the lobby and wondered if there were some place less public they could speak. “Could we move to those couches for a moment?” he finally asked, pointing to a cluster of furniture out of the main hotel thoroughfare.

“Of course,” she agreed, going over to them and sitting in one of the armchairs.

Spock sat next to her, deciding how to begin. “I find myself in need of a favor.”

“Certainly,” Ms Uhura responded. “If I may assist you in anyway, know that I will be glad to.”

Spock nodded in acknowledgment. “An acquaintance of Dr. Kirk’s has invited us to dinner tonight. At 43 Oceanview,” Spock said, seeing the recognition in her expression.

“Oh. That’s quite…exciting,” she said.

“Yes,” Spock replied. “However, as I am certain you have discerned, I am unaccustomed to dining in establishments as elite as 43 Oceanview.”

“I see,” Ms Uhura said, nodding. “You would be more comfortable if you were able to… practice.”

“Indeed,” Spock admitted. “Would you be able to arrange a demonstration on the proper etiquette expected when dining at such an establishment?”

“Certainly,” Ms Uhura agreed. “There is a small dining room off the first floor which is reserved for guests who wish to dine in private. No one is using it today. I can have it set up by 10 o’clock. Would that be convenient to you?”

“It would,” Spock said in relief. “I appreciate your assistance in this.”

The smile she gave him was reflected in her eyes, the first one that he had seen that had not been just on her lips. “You are more than welcome. If you will come to room 108 at 10, we will have our demonstration.”

“I’ll be there,” Spock agreed.

“What are you wearing tonight?” she asked kindly.

“A tuxedo. I understand it will be delivered shortly after noon. The reservations are not until 6:15 so that will give me plenty of time.”

“Yes,” she said. “Is Dr. Kirk returning to pick you up?”

“He is planning to. Unless his schedule does not permit him to leave.”

“If that is the case, I will be glad to provide you directions to the restaurant. It’s only 15 minutes from here.”

“That would be helpful,” he agreed.

“Very well,” she said brightly, standing up as he did. “I’ll see you at 10 o’clock.”

“Thank you,” Spock said, going to the bank of elevators and wondering if he was just imagining her eyes on him as he walked away.

When he arrived back in the suite, he opened the computer Jim had left for him, deciding to finally try contacting his mother. He had planned to do it last night when they had gotten back from the observatory but Jim’s body had distracted him. And he didn’t think he could successfully communicate with his mother after he and Jim had, as Jim said, joined the Penthouse Floor Club.

He opened the email program, easily finding her address. On the subject line, he wrote Greetings from Earth. After studying those words for a moment, he erased them and instead wrote Hello from California. Maybe that was too much information but he could always change it before he sent it.

Mother,

Jim told me that he had contacted you. I must confess that when I first learned of this, I was angry. After he explained, I understood his motivation.

He tells me you are well and that is indeed good news. I am also well.

I miss you as I am guessing you know.

It would be most satisfactory if I heard from you when you have the time to respond.

I remain, as always, your son, Spock.

He studied the message with more intensity than he had the subject line before deleting the last line and retyping: With much love, Spock. Yes, that was much more appropriate. Not Vulcan at all but… well. There was too much water under the proverbial bridge to pretend he was fully Vulcan in his outlook or temperament.

Deciding that was all he had to say at the moment, he hit send, allowing the ‘California’ to remain in the subject.

That done, he opened the spreadsheets that had nagged at him over the past several days. If he applied logic to them, studying each sheet in its entirety, he was confident that he would discover the reason for the discrepancies he knew were there but had not yet pinpointed. The first column of the first spreadsheet was a list of figures he presumed were income amounts. The numbers in the second column were represented in red which he thought meant they were expenditures. The third column was factored into the totals listed in the last column.

He clicked randomly in one of the cells in the fourth column, displaying the embedded formula. It showed up as (a1 plus a2 plus a3). The first number recorded was 211,520, the second -44,221, the third 7,395. That would make the total 174,694 but what was recorded instead was 159,904. The last number in the sequence, 7,395, should have been added in but was subtracted out.

A random check of other totals in the fourth column revealed no discernable pattern, only that some of the figures were correctly totaled, some were not. He totaled the columns separately to see if they were recorded accurately. Column 1 and 2 totally correctly at the bottom but column 3 seemed to have its own configuration, one that made no sense.

He checked the other spreadsheets to discover that they contained similar tampering. But the alterations were random and carefully disguised. When he calculated the totals as they were represented, the first spreadsheet had a discrepancy of 34,887. The second was off by 2,235, the third 643, the rest also inaccurate in their final totals.

Spock called Jim’s cell phone, getting his voice mail. He did not leave a message, deciding to discuss it with him in person. If Jim called him back, he would tell him what he had discovered but it was not something he thought appropriate to leave on his voice mail.

Spock quickly checked Jim’s email, trying to suppress the momentary regret that there was no message yet from his mother. But Spock was fairly certain that it was the middle of the night on Vulcan so that would delay a reply.

The clock on the computer said that it was 9:54 so Spock made his way down to the first floor, arriving at room 108 precisely at 10:00. Uhura was waiting for him, escorting him into the private dining room, one table set with an elaborate display of china, silverware, glasses, cups, and things Spock was not sure he could accurately identify.

“This is Derrick,” Uhura said, nodding to the man standing by the table in formal attire. “He will be both our maitre d’ and our waiter for the duration.”

“Thank you for your assistance,” Spock said, the younger man nodding.

“When you arrive, you will all be taken to your table and the maitre d’ will pull out your chairs,” Uhura explained.

Derrick pulled out Uhura’s chair at her silent signal. When Derrick had the second chair pulled back, Spock obediently sat, glancing over at Uhura. “They will place your napkin,” she said as Derrick draped it over Spock’s thighs. “The maitre d’ will be careful not to touch you. They would not touch their guests at any rate. They are especially vigilant with Vulcans so you needn’t worry.”

Spock nodded at that, waiting.

“I took the liberty of printing out a menu typical of the restaurant,” Uhura said, giving Spock a copy of the two sheets. There were no prices which was something of a relief to Spock. “You will be free to choose. You do not need concern yourself with the prices. As you are his guest, he will expect you to order what you desire.”

Spock nodded, studying all of the choices. There were several vegetarian dishes available, the ingredients listed.

“Do you see something you would enjoy?” Uhura asked, studying him studying the menu.

“The Vulcan mollusks sautéed in Rhombolian butter would be… acceptable,” Spock said in an understatement Uhura could see clearly.

“They are among the best,” Uhura confirmed with a nod.

“They are extremely expensive, especially on Earth.”

“Yes,” Uhura agreed with a  smile. “He will know you would enjoy them and will not appreciate your hesitancy if you do not order them.”

Spock nodded in understanding, lowering the menu.

“Dr. Pike will no doubt order some of the wine for which they are justifiably famous. You are not obligated to partake.”

“I have no objections,” Spock said with a nod.

“He will choose and once he is satisfied, will instruct the steward to serve each of you,” Uhura explained, nodding to Derrick who filled the wine glasses with water for demonstration purposes. “The water glasses will be ready and waiting. If you desire, drink from yours.”

“Which one is mine?” Spock asked, a tiny frown at the numerous glasses on display. As the table was set for four, he was uncertain which set was assigned to his place.

“The glasses on your right hand are yours,” she said patiently. “The bread plate on the left is the one you use.”

Spock nodded, picking up his water glass and taking a sip before replacing it. He was staring down at the various silverware displayed, more next to the plates than he thought strictly necessary.

“I know there are a lot of utensils,” Uhura said. “Don’t think about it too much. Know that you start on the outside and move toward the plate.” She pointed at each item and named its use. Spock nodded, fairly sure he would remember. But that she said start outside and move in also helped calm his nerves, a nervousness he would never admit to having.

“Once you get past the utensils and glasses, dinner will progress as you would expect,” Uhura said warmly. “I would imagine you are adept at making small talk.”

“About some subjects,” Spock said hesitantly.

“Follow Dr. Pike’s lead. And if you aren’t certain, watch Dr. Kirk. He will provide you with the clues that you need. He won’t leave you hanging. You know that.”

“Yes,” Spock agreed. “If Dr. Pike or Dr. Boyce should inquire as to how we became acquainted?”

“Let Dr. Kirk answer,” she advised. “You will receive the clues that you need from Jim.”

Spock nodded. “Is there additional dining etiquette I need to know?”

“You’ll be fine, Spock,” Uhura said in assurance. It was nearly enough to make him believe her.

“What about the opera?” Spock asked.

“Do you have particular concerns?”

“No. I do not. I simply am not certain how one comports oneself,” Spock admitted.

“You’ll be fine,” Uhura repeated. “Again, you will take your cues from Dr. Kirk. He’s experienced enough of these types of evenings that it’s almost second nature.”

“Yes,” Spock agreed because she so clearly wanted him to do so.

“Do you know which opera you will be attending?”

“Peaceful Haven,” Spock said, making Uhura gasp quietly.

“The Earth premier,” she said breathlessly.

“That is my understanding.”

“Oh my. I have heard it is her best work. You are very lucky indeed.”

Spock gazed at her, a thought filled expression on his face. He had the feeling he had somehow underestimated her or judged her too harshly. He couldn’t put a name to the reasons he thought that but there was more to Ms Uhura than she generally allowed anyone to witness. “Are you a fan of opera?” he finally asked.

“I rarely have the opportunity to attend,” she said with a small, somewhat sad smile. “It is a delight when I am able to go. Do you know the story of the opera? It helps in understanding when you do.”

“Is it sung in Vulcan?” he asked.

“It is,” she said with a light laugh. “You’ll understand what they are saying.”

“I will,” he agreed, a brightness in his eyes that had not been obvious to her up until that point. “I listen to her operas any time I am afforded the opportunity.”

“A little bit of home you have with you,” she said in understanding.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Have you ever been to Vulcan?”

She shook her head, her long ponytail swishing down her back. “I haven’t. I hope to get there one day. I have heard it is breathtaking in its beauty.”

Much to his own astonishment, Spock spent the next fifteen minutes telling Uhura what it was like to grow up on the fire planet – the beauty of the sunsets, the terror of the sandstorms, the flat deserts that were endless to the eye, the towering escarpments that held secrets of the ancients. She was a stellar audience, seemingly enthralled by his words, asking quiet, probing questions when she wanted additional clarification.

“You clearly miss your homeworld,” she said in sympathy.

“It is no longer my home,” he said evenly. “It has not been for… several year.”

She nodded at that, looking like someone who understood which Spock would not have believed possible.

“I have taken more than enough of your time,” Spock said, moving his chair back away from the table.

“It has been my pleasure,” she said, standing when he did. “Will you stop by my office tonight so I can see you in your tuxedo?”

He did not know why she would be asking that of him but he automatically agreed, getting her bright smile in return. “Thank you again.”

“You are more than welcome,” she assured him as she walked with him to the elevator. “I’ll see you around 5:45.”

“Indeed,” he agreed, entering the elevator when it opened for him. He took it to the penthouse, considering his conversation with her, wondering at the complete change in her demeanor. He hadn’t reached any conclusions as he keyed the door and entered the suite.

Returning to the desk with Jim’s borrowed computer, he saw he had a voice mail message on his cell phone. That it was from Jim was not surprising.

Hey. I see you called. I was in a meeting. Call me back if you need me.

The call had been received only five minutes earlier so Spock dialed Jim’s number.

“Hi,” Jim’s smiling voice said in greeting.

“Jim,” Spock responded. “I regret missing your call.”

“I was calling because you had called me,” Jim said with a laugh. Spock could easily imagine the way his eyes were sparkling blue, they way they always did when Jim laughed. Or smiled. Or… his eyes were open. “What’s up?”

“I was reviewing the ledgers,” Spock told him. “Someone tampered with the numbers.”

Jim asked him for an explanation which Spock provided. Jim had the spreadsheets open on his computer, looking at the discrepancies as Spock pointed them out.

“Well,” Jim said in exasperation. And only an echo of anger. “No wonder I couldn’t figure it out.”

“What will you do?” Spock asked, thinking the person who did it was going to very much regret their actions when Jim had finished with them.

“The first thing I’m going to do is call Christine Chapel. I’m sure she didn’t do it.”

“May I inquire how you can be certain?” Spock asked.

“She’s the one who told me something wasn’t adding up. Do you think she would have ratted on herself?”

“That would be counterproductive,” Spock agreed.

“Did you hear back from your mother?” Jim asked in a lightening quick change of subject and much lighter tone.

“Not that I know of,” Spock said. “I have not yet checked. Did you see a reply?”

“No,” Jim said, a smile clearly illuminating his voice. “I just saw the one you sent to her. I’m glad you sent it.”

“As am I,” Spock agreed.

“I better go,” Jim said reluctantly. “I called Floyd first thing. The tuxedo should be delivered just after lunch.”

“Thank you,” Spock acknowledged. “Will you be available to come for me?”

“I will,” Jim said. “I’ll be there at 5:00.”

“That is earlier than you had thought.”

“Dessert before dinner,” Jim told him with a laugh. Spock lost a losing battle against the tiny smile that curved his mouth.

“A most satisfactory plan,” Spock said, Jim rewarding him with another warm laugh.

“I’ll see you then.”

“It cannot come soon enough,” Spock said before hanging up.

~o0o~

At precisely 4:58, Spock heard the key slide in the lock and he looked up to see Jim standing framed in the open door. He still wore his suit, his tie pulled down a few inches, enough so that he could undo the first button on his starched shirt. All of that registered on some level to Spock but mostly it was Jim’s smile that he saw. The smile that lit Jim’s face and made his eyes more brilliant than the brightest summer sky.

“Hi,” Jim said into the quiet, approaching Spock and descending the steps to the lower portion of the living room. “How was your day?”

Spock did not respond except for reaching out to pull him closer with his tie. Jim was still smiling and Spock would swear he could taste it when he licked at the corner of Jim’s mouth. He left Jim’s mouth before he could give into temptation, licking over to Jim’s ear.

“Where did this come from?” Jim whispered into Spock’s ear when Spock took the lobe of Jim’s ear between sharp teeth.

“I have been able to think of little but you the entire day,” Spock said, his fingers busy opening Jim’s tie so that he could get his shirt open as well.

“I like it,” Jim said in approval. “Show me more of what it means.”

Spock growled deep in his throat, the possessiveness of it sending a thrill all the way down to Jim’s toes, not missing any parts in between.

“Did you mother respond to your email?” Jim asked, laughing when Spock growled again.

“You cannot ask me that right now,” Spock warned, working on Jim’s belt in order to get to the fastening of Jim’s trousers. “Must you always wear so many clothes?”

Jim shrugged, trying for nonchalant and failing miserably. His attention was far too focused on divesting Spock of his jeans and sweater to really care whether or not Spock knew he was practically trembling from need.

Even with desire making their fingers clumsy, they managed to remove all of their clothes, tumbling onto the couch, their legs tangling and their hands grasping for purchase.

“L-l-lube?” Jim breathed into Spock’s ear. His hips were thrusting up of their own accord, the contact with Spock’s hot body stretched over him delicious but not nearly enough.

Spock reached up onto the table at the end of the couch, retrieving the bottle he had strategically placed there earlier. “What do you want?”

“I don’t c-c-care,” Jim groaned, his hips doing the dance of desperation. “Just hurry up.”

Spock bit the skin over Jim’s collarbone, not sorry that it would leave a mark. He soothed the sting with his tongue before rising up to straddle Jim’s thighs, looking down at him with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “Will you enter me?”

Jim nodded more times than strictly necessary, breathless and fingers grasping at the couch. He had no desire to bruise Spock with his urgent need to hold on to something, anything. He needed to be grounded or he was sure he would float away. He watched with glazed eyes as Spock carefully coated Jim’s hard erection, the touch fleeting and way too light. But Jim knew if Spock touched him more firmly, it would be all over and that was not what Jim wanted. Or needed.

When Jim was slick and Spock was sure he was ready, he raised up enough to position himself over Jim’s yearning erection. He allowed the tip to brush against his body as he stared down at Jim’s wide, hungry eyes.

“Why are you t-t-teasing me?” Jim asked, his breathing coming in snatches.

“Tell me what you want,” Spock ordered, letting his body barely touch Jim again.

“What?” Jim said, his eyes unfocused, his right hand on Spock’s thigh, trying to make him lower himself over Jim.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Oh God,” Jim groaned. “I want you to l-l-let me in. I want to feel my c-c-cock entering your inhumanly hot body. I want to be surrounded by you, engulfed by you. I want the entire universe to shrink d-d-down to my erection inside of you.”

Spock nodded, allowing the very tip to breech his opening. “What else?”

“P-p-please let me in,” Jim pleaded, both hands on Spock’s thighs, trying to find any leverage to force Spock down over him. He knew there would be a patchwork of bruises on Spock’s thighs by the end but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Like this?” Spock asked, allowing another inch inside.

“For the l-l-love of all that is holy. Why are you d-d-doing this?” Jim begged, lifting his hips in a futile effort to enter Spock further.

“The look on your face increases my need. Your desperation is a fire that consumes me.”

“What do you w-w-want? Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you if you’ll just l-l-let me in,” Jim begged, no pride left in his urgency.

Spock tilted his head as though considering the offer before slowly, so awfully slowly, lowered himself until the curls over Jim’s groin brushed his skin. “Is this what you want?”

“Move,” Jim ordered, squirming beneath him. “Move. P-p-please.”

“You are extremely demanding,” Spock teased, raising up mere inches before lowering himself all the way down.

“You would be too,” Jim informed him. “I’m not t-t-touching you. And you aren’t to touch yourself.”

“Hmm….” Spock responded as though he was considering Jim’s words. “I do not think that you are in any position to make those decisions.” Spock proved his point by taking Jim’s two wrists in one of his hands, pinning Jim’s arms above his hands. “Do you see?”

“I c-c-could learn to hate you,” Jim claimed, staring up at Spock. “P-p-please.”

“You do not hate me. You are far too desperate for me. You need me. You need me like you need oxygen. In the same way you need the food you barely eat.”

“Y-y-yes,” Jim moaned. “I d-d-do. I do need you. I need you to m-m-move. I need you to fulfill your promise to me.”

“I do not recall making any promises,” Spock said as he slowly raised and lowered himself., not nearly enough motion to help Jim’s urgency.

“You attacked m-m-me as soon as I c-c-came in. T-t-that’s not a p-p-promise?” Jim demanded.

“Hmm….” Spock said again but his voice was not nearly as steady as it had been just moments before. “I suppose you do have a valid point.”

“D-d-damn right I do. I’m not taking you to d-d-dinner tonight. You’ll have to s-s-stay here right by yourself with n-n-nothing but bread and water.”

“That is disappointing,” Spock responded. His eyes had not left Jim’s face, enjoying how it was contorted in pleasure. He did glance briefly at his own weeping erection, the drops of pre-cum pooling on Jim’s hard stomach. “I am going to stroke myself. You will watch.”

Jim gasped at the order, shaking his head. “N-n-no.” But his eyes betrayed him, following Spock’s hand as it wrapped around his own erection. Jim moaned, his tongue peeking out to try and add moisture to his parched lips. It was useless. “L-l-let me. Please.”

“You have changed your mind?” Spock asked with a calmness he did not feel.

“W-w-what?” Jim asked, a frown of concentration on his face as he tried to follow Spock’s thoughts.

“You said you would not touch me,” Spock reminded him, his motions over Jim increasing in speed and need.

“Y-y-yes. I changed my m-m-mind. Let me touch you.”

Spock nodded, releasing Jim’s hands and taking his own off his erection. He hissed in relief when Jim wrapped his right hand firmly around him, stroking him firmly from base to tip. “Harder.”

“N-n-no,” Jim said, staring up at Spock. “Not until you go f-f-faster.”

Spock closed his eyes momentarily, savoring Jim’s touch, the way he knew just how to twist his wrist to provide Spock almost enough friction. Deciding neither of them could take much more, Spock increased the rate of his movements, Jim rewarding him by tightening his fingers, almost too much but still not enough. When Spock clinched his muscles around Jim, his fingers increased their pressure, sending them both over the edge and into oblivion. Spock collapsed on top of Jim, careful to hold most of his own weight with his forearms next to Jim’s head. Their breathing was fast and shallow, Jim radiating heat that nearly matched Spock’s.

“Wow,” Jim finally whispered into Spock’s ear.

“Yes,” Spock agreed, raising up enough to look into Jim’s sparkling but unfocused eyes. Jim smiled at him, no more words needed to express how they felt about what had just occurred.

Comments

[beth]

Yippee! I thought you woul
d NEVER update. It was awesome! Thanks! Who knew this Spock could be such a tease!

[VWalk]

I am soooo excited to see an update. I've been checking ksarchive and your site regularly for one. I absolutely love this story
I haven't even read the latest chapter yet. I'm actually going to treat myself by starting over again from the beginning. Kudos to you.
I have no doubt that this chapter is just and tremendously awesome as the rest of the fic.
Thanks for sharing.