Columbus Day

Jim woke up to the wonderfully familiar sensation of Spock kissing him. He lay still has Spock worked his way up his right thigh, skirting around Jim’s hardening erection, and licking his prominent hipbone.

“What are you doing?” Jim asked with a smile, his voice thick with the sleep that hadn’t completely left him.

“Exploring,” Spock said, looking up at Jim with a gleam lighting his dark eyes.

“Not that I mind,” Jim said, lifting his head to better see his bondmate. “But what brought this on?”

“According to your Earth calendar, today is celebrated as Columbus Day.”

“Oh,” Jim said. “Are you planning to discover new lands?”

“I had hoped to colonize you. Claim you as mine.”

“I am yours,” Jim laughed. “How would you colonize me?”

“Mmm…” Spock hummed as he continued to kiss Jim’s skin. “Columbus was not the first to find the New World.”

“No but he was the first to tell anyone about it.”

“The Vulcans arrived centuries earlier,” Spock said, enjoying Jim’s laugh.

“But you didn’t tell King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella like Columbus did,” Jim pointed out.

“The Federation is not the first to follow a strict policy of non-interference,” Spock said.

“So the Vulcan equivalent of the Prime Directive stopped you from colonizing Earth?”

“Precisely. Had we not respected your right to your own development, Columbus Ohio might be T’Sark, or Strenn, Ohio.”

“Hmm….” Jim pretended to consider it before becoming distracted by what Spock was doing with his mouth. Which was magic. It had to be.

“If you were to turn over, I could explore even more of you,” Spock said in his most seductive tone, not that Jim needed any added incentive. He gladly rolled over onto his stomach, enjoying Spock’s exploration of every inch of his body, certain parts receiving additional attention.

~0~

When Spock completed his journey of discovery, they lay entwined and sated, Spock purring softly into Jim’s ear.

“Thank you for planting your flag to claim me,” Jim said with a  laugh.

“That was not my flag, Captain,” Spock responded.

Jim laughed even harder until Spock silenced him with a kiss.



Autumnal Equinox, sort of

Jim slowly allowed his eyes to open, instantly regretting the decision. The lights overhead were too bright and too familiar. Even when he squeezed his eyes closed, he could still see the halos of those stupid ceiling lights. Sick bay. Yeah, that would explain the headache and vaguely detached feeling he had every time he woke up there.

“No use pretendin’ you’re asleep,” a familiar voice told him. It was quieter than usual but no less grumpy for the reduction in volume.

“Turn down the lights,” Jim requested in a gravely voice that sounded unused. Gravely and dry. If his head didn’t hurt quite so much, he’d be more worried about being so unbearably thirsty.

“Lights 25%,” Bones’ voice ordered. When Jim sensed the light diminishing around his eyelids, he peeked out and up at Bones.

“What happened?” he asked, not sure he wanted to know. Now that he was no longer pretending to be asleep, he was aware of all the pains present in his body, his right clavicle competing with his head for first place in the race to make him throw up.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Bones asked in response, a warm hand covering Jim’s left, his hazel eyes studying Jim in an all too familiar combination of concern and exasperation.

“Uhm…” Jim said. It hurt his head even more to try to think through the cobwebs. “We were… uhm… in the rec room.” Jim stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Okay, kid. Not to worry. Do you know where you are?”

“Yeah. Sick bay. You’re CMO. My BFF. I’m Captain. Right? I’m still Captain?”

“Of course,” Bones grumbled. “That green bloodied hobgoblin has been acting in your stead when he wasn’t here pretending not to pace.”

“Where’s he now?” Jim asked, the pain preventing him from accessing the bond to find Spock himself.

“I made him go get something to eat. He’s been either here or on the Bridge the entire time.”

“How long?” Jim whispered, licking his parched and cracked lips again. A futile effort since his tongue was nearly as dry.

“You’ve been out 4 days. The first two I kept you sedated. The last two you kept waking up but had no idea where you were.”

“Really?” Jim asked, frowning. He didn’t remember any of that. That’s weird. And probably just as well. “So what happened to me? What’d I do this time?” he asked in resigned acceptance of yet another lecture that he was quite possibly the dumbest hick farm-boy Dr. Leonard McCoy had ever had the misfortune of knowing, God help him.

“Not your fault this time, as hard as it is for me to even believe,” Bones said. “We were at the Talk Like a Pirate Day Party when we ran out of rum.”

“Why’s the rum always gone?” Jim joked weakly.

“Exactly. You volunteered to go milk Scotty’s sacred moonshine cow to supplement the beverages. And one of the do-hickeys in Engineering blew up, sending you 20 meters in the air.”

“Oh,” Jim said, glad he didn’t remember any of that. Sounded painful. More painful than waking up to discover he didn’t remember being injured. “So this is your fault.”

Bones shook his head. “Wise-ass. Spock felt the explosion as soon as it hit you. Good thing too. Otherwise you’d be… well. We got to you right away. Another couple of days, I’ll release you to your quarters.”

“Or today,” Jim countered knowing that if he didn’t, Bones would be even more worried about him. Which would never do. He sighed softly when he sensed Spock’s approach, glad when his Vulcan entered his blurred field of vision. “Hey.”

“Jim,” Spock said, looking down at him. “It is good that you have woken.”

“Uhm… I’d prefer to still be asleep,” Jim admitted, closing his eyes.

“Understandably,” Spock agreed, talking quietly with the Doctor who left with a promise to return very shortly with something for Jim to drink.

“Why’re you mad at me?” Jim asked in a quiet voice. Their bond was still too quiet, Spock blocking him from connecting with him in the way that anchored him, held him, provided him shelter.

“I am not, t’hy’la. The past four days have been… challenging,” Spock confessed reluctantly.

“Oh God. I projected the pain onto you,” Jim said in realization. “I’m sorry.”

“It was beyond your control. You have done nothing for which you need apologize. It is one of the purposes of a life-bond, to provide awareness of your mate’s distress.” Spock picked up Jim’s left hand, holding it between his two warmer hands, the affection reaching through the pain to Jim’s heart. “Now that you have regained consciousness, it will be far less difficult for us both.”

“’Kay,” Jim said, squinting to look up at Spock. “Ship’s status?”

“All conditions report normal, sir. Lt. Scott repaired the oxygen filtration mechanism which was the cause of your injuries.”

“Why’d it blow up?” Jim asked.

“A build up of static charge which should have been released through routine maintenance. Because it was in a relatively isolated section, it had not been serviced for too long a time.”

“Oh,” Jim said, trying to consider it through the haze of pain. “Anybody else hurt?”

“Only you,” Spock assured him. “You suffered a broken collarbone, a cracked pelvis, and several internal injuries.”

“A cracked pelvis?” Jim asked, shifting slightly on the biobed. Yep, that’d account for the pain between his hips. “Crap.”

“We will simply be cautious for the next few weeks,” Spock promised him, moving aside when Bones returned with a glass of water.

“Little sips,” he instructed unnecessarily when he had the straw in Jim’s mouth. Jim knew all about the necessity of limiting his intake at first, not wanting to have it make an unwelcome return appearance.

“We still on our way to New Vulcan?” Jim asked with a small frown.

“We have been in orbit for three days,” Spock corrected. “Ambassador Pike instructed us to remain for the next week.”

“Okay,” Jim had to agree. “You see Sarek and the Ambassador?”

“I have. They have both visited you although you were unaware of their presence,” Spock said.

“’kay,” Jim agreed before yawning. “Sorry.” His eyes were determined to drift closed and he did not have the power to stop them, the dark overtaking him too easily. As he was giving up, he felt the sensation of a hypospray being applied to his neck by Bones. Sneaky bastard.

“Sleep, t’hy’la. We will be here when you wake,” Spock promised, kissing his forehead as he felt Jim give release to the sleep he tried to fight but needed in order to fully recover.



Talk Like a Pirate Day

Because bookdragon01 threw down the Pirate gauntlet and how could I refuse?

“Keptain! Keptain!” Chekov said in even more excitement than he generally exhibited as he crossed Officers’ Mess to the Captain’s table. Three sets of eyes watched him skid to a stop, very nearly colliding into the edge of the table.

“Chekov,” Jim responded, trying very hard not to laugh out loud at his navigator. He did peek around him to see if there was any chance Sulu was close by, ready to rescue the officers from the Ensign’s enthusiasm. “What can I do for you?”

“Keptain! Today on Earth calendar is September 19. Did you not know? How could you not know, sir?” Chekov asked nearly apoplectic over the Captain’s omission. Of some kind. But of what, exactly?

“It is indeed the 19^th of September in most time zones on Earth, Ensign. I am unfamiliar with any particular significance to the date,” Spock said, relieving the Captain of having to swallow more of his laughter to state the same thing.

“Sir,” Chekov said in near incredulity. “September 19 is Talk Like a Pirate Day.”

“Oh dear God,” Bones groaned into his coffee. “Didn’t you make them sign some kind of maturity statement before you let them on your ship?”

“Shoot. I knew there was a form I forgot,” Jim claimed in amusement. “And no offense meant, Pavel, but I have a hard time imagining you talking like a pirate. And if you do it in Russian, kind of defeats the purpose.”

“Da, sir,” Pavel had to agree. “But Hikaru is a good Pirate speaking. He says he will not speak it if you do not provide him okay.”

“I see,” Jim said, trying to disguise his laughter behind his coffee cup. “You want Hikaru to talk like a pirate today.”

“Aye sir,” Pavel said proudly. “Arrgh.”

“In fact, there is no proof that pirates of old ever said….”

“Spock,” Jim said, shaking his head to stop his First Officer from ruining the entire day for the Ensign. “All right, Pavel. I’ll make the announcement. But I will also make it clear that today is talk like a pirate day. Not dress like a pirate day.”

“Aye sir,” Pavel repeated. “He can dress like a pirate only in our quarters. That would be ship-shape, yes?”

“Yes,” Jim agreed. “Aye matey.”

“Thank you, sir. You won’t be having disappointment.”

“God I hope not,” Jim said too softly for the Ensign to hear before he hurried out.

“Seriously? You are going to let the overgrown children on this boat go around and say arrgh! Ahoy. God-only-knows-what else?” Bones asked

“What’s the harm? Really, Bones? They know that if an emergency situation comes up, they’ll have to revert back to standard Standard. Stop being such a gloomy Gus.”

“I am not a gloomy Gus, you over-grown man-child. You just want an excuse to say Arrgh.”

“I have no such intention,” Jim assured him with a laugh.

“Mainly because Spock would kill you,” Bones suggested.

“I have no such intention,” Spock said, making Bones groan.

“You just have to talk alike, don’t you? So my head hurts even more,” Bones complained, laying his head on the table in an overly-theatrical gesture of defeat.

“Why are you so grumpy?” Jim asked, looking down at him and shaking his head.

“More so than usual?” Spock asked with a elevated eyebrow.

“Yeah. A lot worse than usual,” Jim agreed. “You talk him out of it. I’m going to announce Talk Like a Pirate Day.” Jim could feel Spock’s eyes boring into his back as he crossed over to the wall comm. “Hey beautiful.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Lieutenant Roy McKinnon said, laughing.

“Oh. Sorry, Roy. It’s not alpha yet, huh?”

“Not yet, sir. Uhura should be here any minute.”

“Okay. And you are quite…attractive,” Jim laughed.

“Was there something I can do for you, sir?” McKinnon asked, having absolutely no desire to have a Vulcans-are-not-angry Vulcan stalking him because his soulmate was an invariant flirt. It was in his blood. Nothing to be done about it.

“Yeah. I need a shipwide channel, please.”

“Of course, sir,” McKinnon agreed, pressing the correct buttons to connect Jim to the entire ship.

“Ahoy, me harties,” Jim announced. “It’s been brought to me attention that today be Talk Like A Pirate Day. Iffn you be so inclined, feel right free to speak in a manner befittin’ this auspicious occasion. I am asking that you note that the day is Talk not Dress or Act like a Pirate day. I trust you know this means no weapons of the sharp dangerous kind are allowed to be strapped to your person. Commander Giotto will be trolling the hallways and…uhm… gangplanks to make sure. Remember – it’s talk like a pirate day. Have fun. Be safe. That is all.”

Jim wandered back over to his table to find Bones talking to Spock in a suspiciously animated fashion. “Good job,” Bones said in an off-hand manner to Jim. “You know it will be good for the crew. Surely we have something that will do as decorations.”

“What are you doing?” Jim asked in some concern, looking from Spock to Bones and back.

“The Doctor has decided that today would make for an… acceptable excuse to throw a party for the crew. For purposes of morale, of course.”

“Of course,” Jim said, staring at Bones in disbelief. “I walked away for 2 minutes and now you’re suddenly the morale officer and cruise director?”

“Now who’s being grumpy?” Bones said, standing up to clap Jim on the back. “See you later. I have a party to plan.”

“What?” Jim asked as Bones walked away, whistling what sounded suspiciously like A Pirate’s Life for Me. Really bad eggs, indeed.

“I cannot explain,” Spock admitted. “Once you had left, he became inexplicably enthusiastic about the idea of putting together the festivity.”

“He’s up to something,” Jim said suspiciously. “See if you can find out what.”

“Rather than reporting for duty, sir?” Spock asked, making Jim laugh.

“We’re off today. Which you know. Why don’t you want to follow Bones?”

“I have no objection to following him. It is being snared in his web of insanity which causes me to hesitate.”

Jim laughed at Spock’s explanation, shaking his head. “I promise not to tell him that you called him insane if you’ll go find him. Then tell him you have to meet me in our quarters, for a very important discussion. In 20 minutes.”

“A discussion about regulations?” Spock asked, amusement shining in his dark eyes.

“Sure. On fraternization between commanding officers.”

“Very good,” Spock agreed. “I will see you in quarters at that time.”

“Giotto to Kirk,” the wall comm requested.

“Yeah Sam?” Jim responded.

“Seriously, sir? You agreed to it?” Sam asked, his disbelief transmitting across the comm.

“Yeah. Can’t do any harm, right?”

“Sir,” Sam said in his patented ‘voice of doom’ tone.

“What? They can talk like pirates. Not act like or drink like or fight like. It’ll be fine.”

“With all due respect, sir.” Sam stopped and Jim could hear him take a deep breath.

“You just gave up, didn’t you?” Jim laughed.

“I live to serve, sir. I will check your crew for sharp deadly weaponry. Ought I give them to Lt. Sulu if they aren’t his I confiscate?”

“Sure. Bones is planning a party. You’ll come, right?” Jim asked.

“Oh Lord. Sir.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, Sam. I’ll be in my quarters if you need me. Spock will be with me for the most part. In case you need reinforcements. You know, to make some scallywag walk a plank.”

“Aye sir,” Sam said in defeat. “I’ll report as the need arises.”

“Thanks,” Jim acknowledged, disconnecting and watching the officers who were entering the mess. Several greeted him in appropriate pirate-fashion. A few looked at him like he was even weirder than they had ever believed. But for the most part, there was a universal expression of resigned acceptance. They had, after all, requested assignment to the Enterprise. Maybe they were high at the time?

“Hey,” he heard Uhura say as he left the Mess. She was standing in the corridor, her hands on her very fine hips. “What the hell?”

“Lieutenant?” Jim responded, barely disguising his laugh.

“I am not anyone’s wench,” she informed him, making her point with sharp jabs into his shoulder. “I’m not anyone’s beauty. And I swear on all that is holy, if any of your juvenile delinquent crew tries to plunder my bounty, I’ll send them to Davey Jones’ locker. You got me? Captain?”

“Understood. Loud and clear. Aren’t you due on the Bridge? Ma’am?”

She did not respond except for turning on her heel, her ponytail swishing in silent displeasure as she walked away, in time to miss him laughing quietly at her retreating back.

He finally made it to his quarters, some of the crew trying out their phrases on him to which he mostly responded with a noncommittal nod. He hadn’t been in quarters for long when Spock came in, a look of mild horror on his face.

“What?” Jim asked, not sure he wanted to know frankly.

“We may have caused an overload of the universal translator,” Spock said. “It is trying to render pirate-speak into regular Standard.”

“Oh dear,” Jim laughed. “Uhura’s already mad at me. She’s going to run me through for this.”

“Quite possibly,” Spock agreed, approaching Jim to stand within his personal space, which was admittedly nearly non-existent. “We need to have farewell sex in that case.”

“Farewell sex?” Jim laughed even harder. “What was Bones doing?” Jim asked between kissing Spock’s neck.

“He convinced Lieutenant Matherson to assist him with preparations for the festivities,” Spock said as he pulled Jim’s shirts off in order to kiss him down to the top of his pants.

“So once we’ve completed our coitus, you’re just going to let Uhura kill me?”

“Possibly,” Spock claimed.

“Well. Okay. I guess. Make the sex awesome, okay? Since it’ll be our last time.”

“When has the sex been less than awesome, sir?” Spock asked as he guided Jim backward to their bed.

“With you?” Jim teased.

“I have no interest in any other sexual experience in which you may have engaged during your misspent youth.”

“True,” Jim agreed. “Then, no, the sex has never been less than awesome.”

“What do really bad eggs have to do with pirates?” Spock asked as he unfastened and lowered Jim’s trousers.

“After. I’ll explain after,” Jim promised.

“That is acceptable,” Spock agreed, kissing him silent, no talking of any type undertaken for the next very enjoyable stretch of time.

A/N: OMG. It’s late and I have to go to work tomorrow. I know the ending is somewhat abrupt and I’m sorry. If you want my muses to write about the party, let us know? If not, that’s cool too. Thank ye, me hearties!



Grandparents' Day

“Spock,” Jim was saying as he entered the quarters he shared with Spock. He stopped when he saw Spock involved in a conversation with someone Jim couldn’t see on their computer. “I’m sorry.”

Spock held out one hand, inviting him to join the conversation.

“Clanmother,” Jim said with a tiny bow when he saw T’Pau’s regal face on the screen.

“James,” T’Pau said, measuring, evaluating. “You are well.”

“Very well, Clanmother. I trust you are as well.”

“I am. I am wondering when you will be coming to New Vulcan,” she said, making it sound for all the world like an order rather than a simple statement.

“We have requested assignment there, Ko'mekh-il. That is all that we can do,” Spock reminded her unnecessarily.

“Yes. When you finally arrive, you can make your bond official.”

“Yes,” Spock said with a nod. “The elders will not object?”

“They will not. Although most would request that you procreate, some know that following your heart can be more important. As your father did.”

“Thank you,” Spock said warmly, relishing the permission she had just given him. It meant there would be no pressure from the Vulcan High Council for him to do the logical thing and marry a Vulcan woman in order to further increase the population on the colony.

“Thank you for your words, Clanmother,” Jim added with a smile. “I will leave you to complete your conversation.”

“I intend to see you soon, James,” T’Pau said, a warning wrapped in a farewell.

“As soon as we can,” Jim agreed, leaving their quarters so Spock could have the time with his grandmother. He wandered down to Officers’ Mess, getting a cup of coffee as he waited for Spock to join him for dinner. He was not without company as he waited, several of the crew stopping by to talk with him about topics of no particular importance. Engaging in  informal chats with his crew had become one of the most useful ways he had found to really understand what was going on with the ship and those who kept her flying.

He smiled up at Spock when he entered the large room, coming directly to stand by the Captain’s table. “Hey.”

“Are you eating?” Spock asked, his head tilted slightly to one side.

“Yeah. I was planning to. Why?” Jim asked, looking up at him with a sparkle in his eyes.

“You are simply sitting here, sir. Shall I bring you food?”

“Goodness no. I was talking with the crew,” Jim said, standing up. “Is everything okay with T’Pau?”

“All is well. I initiated the contact. According to your American calendar, today is Grandparents’ Day. It was a excellent excuse to say hello, as you would say.”

“Okay,” Jim said with a smile. “Have you seen Bones?”

“I have not. Shall I contact him?”

“Why are you being so accommodating? A question doesn’t imply a request, you know,” Jim laughed.

“It does when the question is from someone you love,” Spock said very quietly.

“Are you sure you’re okay, t’hy’la?” Jim asked, looking at Spock with a question in his eye.

“I believe I am feeling unusually sentimental,” Spock answered reluctantly. “Talking to T’Pau has stirred thoughts of my mother.”

“I can understand that,” Jim said warmly. “If you’ll get my dinner, I’ll find Bones.”

“Very good,” Spock agreed, going to the dispenser to request their dinners. Jim came to the table shortly after Spock sat down, sitting next to him.

“Bones is on his way. After we eat, we’ll go back to our quarters and look at pictures of Amanda if you want.”

“I would like that,” Spock agreed with a nod.

“And then we can contact Winona and she can tell me all the reasons I shouldn’t be Captain,” Jim laughed, making Spock shake his head.

“Your relationship is unfortunate,” Spock said.

“That’s something of an understatement,” Jim said. He waved to Bones as he went to the dispenser before joining them at their table. “Where have you been?”

“Working?” Bones said. “Not all of us can sit in our big chair on the Bridge and watch the stars go by.”

Jim shrugged at the vague insult, unaffected by it. “You chose the wrong track at the Academy. You could have switched to Command. Then you would have your own chair to sit in.”

Bones shook his head at that. “And who would be keeping you alive? Ever consider that?”

“I can assure you with some degree of certainty that the Captain does not simply sit ideally in his chair,” Spock said, falling naturally into their comfortable routine.

“Yeah,” Jim agreed. “I sign reports. Authorize requisitions. Uhm…. I’m very busy.”

“Sure,” Bones grumbled. “You have a tough life, Captain sir.”

“Yes I do,” Jim agreed. “About time you recognized that.”

“You okay?” Bones asked Spock more seriously, all knowing eyes evaluating Spock.

“I am. I was speaking with T’Pau earlier. We touched on the subject of my mother,” Spock said.

“Okay,” Bones said with a nod, stealing some of Jim’s French fries.

“We’re going to look at family pictures after dinner. You want to come? You can bring yours of JoAnna,” Jim invited.

“I don’t want to intrude,” Bones said.

“It would not be an intrusion, Leonard. We would welcome your company.”

“I accept then,” Bones said in agreement. “I’ll bring the popcorn.”

“Deal,” Jim said, standing up when the comm panel requested his attention. “Kirk here.”

“Sorry to bother you, sir,” Lt. Akia said. “Admiral Pike is requesting to speak with you.”

“Very well. I’ll go across to Conference Room Gadsden,” he acknowledged. He looked at Spock and Bones as they came up to where he was standing. “I’ll meet you in our quarters. I’m pretty sure I’m not in trouble.”

“Okay,” Bones agreed, going out with Spock and telling him about the most recent conversation he’d had with JoAnna. The call was full of elementary school dramatics, who liked who, who thought who had cooties, who was most popular this week.

“Sounds as though much goes on at her school,” Spock said in warm indulgence.

“I don’t remember it being quite so… complicated,” Bones agreed. “Jim’s okay, right?”

“He is fine. Feeling no anxiety,” Spock assured him.

“Good. I’m going to go get the pictures. I’ll be right back.”

Spock nodded, entering their quarters as Bones continued down the corridor. It wasn’t long before Jim arrived, smiling at Spock.

“Guess where our next assignment is,” Jim said, sitting next to Spock on the loveseat.

“Surely not New Vulcan,” Spock said in barely disguised amusement.

“Surprisingly, it is. Nobody says no to T’Pau. And Chris was sure to tell me that she said we did not request her to make the call.”

Spock shook his head, his eyes sparkling. “It is good to have friends in high places.”

“Is that about me or her or Chris?” Jim asked, kissing the side of Spock’s head.

“Yes,” Spock agreed, making Jim laugh. They were still sitting close together when Bones returned, hands full of picture discs. Jim repeated to Bones the news about New Vulcan, Bones shaking his head.

“It will be good to see the Ambassadors,” Bones said.

“It will,” Jim agreed, starting the show of pictures. “Try not to fight too much with elder Spock.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Bones asked.

“He takes no exception,” Spock assured them both, watching the pictures float by, lost in the memories they represented. Jim mostly watched Spock, more interested in studying his barely changing expressions than the images that were the source of those changes. Bones watched his two friends, enjoying the pictures and their reactions.

The pictures of JoAnna brought laughs and smiles and general ohhhs and ahhhs as they enjoyed the glimpses into her life. When they had watched them all, Bones excused himself, going to bed, pretty sure that that was Jim and Spock’s plan as well. And if they had more in mind than sleeping, well, he just didn’t need to know.



Labor Day

“T’hy’la,” Spock said from where he sat at his desk working. Jim was on his floor practicing what he claimed was yoga. Spock suspected it was purely a new method Jim was trying to seduce him, moving his body in appealing and provocative ways.

“Yeah?” Jim responded as he lifted his hips to form a high arch with his back, causing his lower body to be on prominent display.

“It says here that tomorrow is Labor Day,” Spock said, his head tilted slightly to one side as he considered this information.

“Yeah,” Jim repeated, releasing his pose with a subtle look of disappointment in his blue eyes.

“Is there a festivity planned for it?” Spock asked.

“For Labor Day?” Jim said, sitting up to look over at Spock. “Not generally. It is a holiday in America. To commemorate the work-force. It traditionally marks the end of summer – pools close, women stop wearing white. But we don’t have a party for it.”

“Ah,” Spock said in realization. “According to this calendar, it originated after the deaths of a number of workers at the hands of the military and U.S. Marshals during the 1894 Pullman Strike. US President Grover Cleveland put reconciliation with Labor as a top political priority and fearing further conflict, legislation making Labor Day a national holiday was rushed through congress unanimously and signed into law a mere six days after the end of the strike.”

“Well, that makes a lot more sense than just being the end of summer,” Jim agreed, standing to approach Spock’s desk. “Maybe we can have our own celebration of Labor Day.”

“The motto of the Labor Movement at the time was '8 hours to work, 8 hours to sleep, 8 hours to do as we please'. Perhaps we can combine those last two 8 hour periods.” Spock said in his especially suggestive way.

“I like your thinking, Commander,” Jim said, leaning over to kiss him in appreciation.