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Jim sat in his quarters, staring at his paperwork. He needed to officially file Gary Michell’s and Dr. Denner’s deaths, as well as write to their families. It was more than he could bear; he felt his crew’s losses deeply, and these were the first deaths while the Enterprise was under his command.
Gary’s death haunted him. They had been so close until that fateful racquetball game 10 years ago. That’s when everything in their relationship changed. It had been a close game; Gary had barely won. He had kissed Jim fiercely to celebrate his victory. It wasn’t long before they ended up naked in bed together. “James R. Kirk,” the tombstone had read; “R” for racquetball, as private joke between them.
Jim sighed with the memory. He had long felt an affection close to love for Gary. He remembered his dashed dreams when Gary revealed that he only wanted to be friends with benefits. Besotted with him, Jim agreed. But Gary wasn’t one for monogamy, often flirting and bedding women in order to make Jim jealous. Jim broke off the relationship in heartbreak, but they had remained close friends.
Gary had always been cocky and arrogant, but incredibly charismatic. Life was a joke and joy ride; there was little he had taken seriously, including his duty to Starfleet. Even though Jim had requested him to serve under him during his first command, he had found managing him difficult. He hadn’t done well with authority, which made being his commanding officer difficult.
“You better be good to me. I’m getting even better ideas here,” Gary had said after he had been affected by the barrier. Had Gary really ever cared for him? He had admitted to setting Jim up with Ruth merely for his own benefit. Had everything been a game to him, even Jim? It seemed that the barrier’s effects had brought out all of his worst features, and Jim was questioning their entire relationship.
“Am I emotionally compromised like Spock suggested?” Jim thought. No, he had done his duty; he had killed Gary when it was the only choice. But what if Spock had been the one infected? Would Jim have had the strength to end him? The Vulcan was becoming increasingly important to him every day, and it sometimes scared Jim how much he was growing to care for Spock.
Jim groaned as his door chimed; he really wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. “Come,” he called. Spock entered as if he had known that he been on Kirk’s mind. “Spock!” Jim smiled. “What are you doing here? Is there a problem on the bridge?”
“All is well, Captain. I thought I could be of assistance to you. Are you writing your reports?”
“I’m trying to, but I can’t concentrate. Their deaths were tragic; nobody asks to die that way,” said Jim. “I know it’s hard for you to understand human emotion and feelings.”
“I do have some understanding, Jim. As I said before, I felt for Lt. Mitchell, too. Vulcans revere life, and any death is regretful.” He paused and turned as if to leave. Then he faced Jim and said, “If you cannot do you paperwork now, perhaps I can interest you in a game of chess?”
“I beat you last time; can you handle defeat again?” Jim joked. He couldn’t help himself, it was too much fun to poke fun at Spock.
Spock raised his eyebrows, clearly in jest. “Defeat? Captain, you have bested me but one time, and that was pure luck.”
“I thought Vulcans didn’t believe in luck.”
Spock’s eyes lit with a smile. “They don’t. But as you are an illogical being, the term is apt.”
Jim smiled. Spock made even Gary’s death bearable. The paperwork could wait. Spock was here. Despite his Vulcan façade, he came to offer comfort and support to Jim. Perhaps there was hope for a closer friendship with Spock, and that was all that mattered now.