Fic: The Gift That Keeps on Vexing: Part Three | Mirrorverse | NC-17

[ivycross]

Title: The Gift That Keeps on Vexing, Part Three
Author: ivycross
Beta: pamdizzle but all mistakes are mine
Series: Mirrorverse
Rating: NC-17
Length: 3,349
Warnings: N/A
Summary: It is Solstice and Captain Kirk keeps receiving gifts from a secret admirer. The thing is Kirk doesn't want the gifts or an admirer, because it would be daft to think that there is someone who actually wants him and not his command.

The chimes of his alarm roused Kirk from his sleep and he sat up in the bed, glaring at the world around him for existing too early in the damn morning.  He stretched and yawned, taking the time to scratch himself freely, before deciding that the known galaxy wasn't going to conquer itself. He slipped out his bunk and that action reminded him how incredible his new sleepwear felt.

Kirk stood briefly, running his hands over his thighs, still marveling at the softness of his new sleepwear, and then he reached out with hand, to hit a button on the replicator near his bed. He smiled as the little door came up revealing  one cup of black coffee.  Kirk drank it in one go and then  shook his head clearing the cobwebs of sleep from his brain.  Despite last night's little upset, Kirk actually felt great and he continued to smile as he round the corner towards the fresher.

There he splashed water on his face, brushed his teeth and styled his hair. Afterwards he smiled some more and winked into the mirror. "You handsome devil. No wonder you have crewmen on your ship chasing you with gifts," he laughed as he stepped out of the fresher and dressed whistling a cheerily little tune while he tied his sash about his waist.

He continued to whistle while he moved over to his desk to put on his boots, but he stopped whistling when he saw the plain white box with gold ribbon waiting for him.  Kirk stared at it, his mind working frantically. Had that been left by the figure before they left and Kirk did not see or had they come back into his quarter's after he had gone back to sleep? 

Kirk shut his eyes and grimaced, suddenly feeling very stupid. Why was he so cheerful? There was someone on his ship that was a threat to him. They knew how to get into his room at any time, leave no trace of being there and he was fucking whistling?

Oh sure, they said that they meant him no harm now, but what if that changed? Kirk remembered Ruth and how she had tried to hit with an aircar a week after telling him that she loved him and do anything for him. Of course, he told her at the time that what  she could was put her clothes back on and leave, but still the crazy bitch tried to kill him and she had supposedly loved him. Who was to say that this would be any different?

Kirk sat in the chair at his desk and watched the box morosely . Finally, no longer able to resist not knowing what was inside, he tore the ribbon off with no ceremony and threw open the lid. The first thing he saw was a pair of white cotton gloves with a note pin to them: You will need these.

 Kirk picked up the gloves gingerly and set them down on the desk before he started to pick at the white tissue paper. Nestled down in the paper to Kirk's wonder and amazement was a book.  A real book, made of leather and paper,  the red cover faded and worn around the edges, but the the lettering still legible.

Kirk stared down at it and held his breath as he reached down to touch it.  His fingers just barely touched the surface of the book,  when he remembered the gloves and put them on before he carefully and tenderly lifted the book up for his inspection.

It was his favorite, Paradise Lost by John Milton. He marveled at it and took note of how there was an angel done in gold leafing  on the cover, it's form curled around the P in the title.  He quickly flipped open to the inside and located the copyright:  1841.

"Sweet Caesar on a pogo stick," he whispered completely stunned.  Slowly and with care he turned the pages.  The binding was worn but all the pages were there including  all fifty of the original illustrations.   He set down the book and studied it forlornly before his door buzzed. It opened with a whoosh and Kirk watched his first officer enter the room.

"Captain,  it is currently fifteen past the hour and I am going to assume that since you are still in your quarters you have not eaten.  I know that you have instructed me on several occasions to  mind my own business,  but I have noticed that when  you do not eat properly you are even more difficult to deal with than usual, due to your low blood sugar. With that said,  I ask that you indulge me this once and go have breakfast.  Because as much as I would enjoy watching you make a fool of yourself on the bridge by threatening to have Mr. Chekov fed to wild tribbles before passing out, we are meeting with the ruling council of Beta Corm 26 and they will be quite displeased if you are less than polite while on the planet's surface."

Kirk looked into Mr. Spock's impassive face and pulling off the gloves he threw them down on the table, before marching out of the room, pushing past Spock without a word.  He made his way down the corridor towards the lift feeling the Vulcan no more than a step behind him the whole way.   Once in the lift, he ordered the computer to take him directly him to the bridge.  Spock had just managed to step into the lift before the door shut on him and now Kirk could feel the dark eyes apprising him.

"You are not eating, Captain?"

 Kirk kept his gaze ahead of him as he replied, "No, there isn't time. Besides, I'm not hungry and I do not have low blood sugar."  From the corner of his eyes Kirk saw Spock give a slow nod.

"Of course, Captain. How foolish of me to mention it when you have made it clear to both the doctor and myself that you do not suffer that particular aliment.  I will point out though, you seem more irritable than normal this morning.  May I inquiry as to what is troubling you?"

Kirk looked at his first officer and narrowed his eyes. "I don't think that is any of your concern," He said curtly.

Spock seemed to think on this and then said, "Perhaps not, but it is my job to see that you are able to do your job or we both get the ax and not figuratively."

Kirk opened his mouth to chew the Vulcan a new one but he stopped and let out a sigh instead.  "I'm only saying this to you because I know that you will actually listen and maybe even give me some advice."  Kirk saw  the Vulcan raise a surprised eyebrow but when he said nothing Kirk continued.

"I seem to be letting this Solstice courting garbage get to me. What is worse, it seems to affecting my judgment. I have to make this stop but I'm at a loss to do so, short of shooting the individual."

Spock frowned at this, his brow furrowing as he reached for the controls, stopping the lift.  Kirk's hand immediately went to the phaser at his hip, tensing his body to strike.  Spock placed his own hands behind his back as he addressed Kirk.

"Relax Captain. I merely wanted to speak to you without being interrupted. You seem quite upset over this, but I cannot think as to why. For as long as I have known you, you have always welcomed attention, flattery and gifts.  I would have figured that you would be quite pleased with this person since they are offering you all the above." 

Kirk scowled and looked at the floor of the lift. "I'm not that bad, besides who knows what this person's actual motives are.  I just don't trust any of it."

"Do they have to have an ulterior motive, Captain?" Spock asked, tilting his head to one side.

Kirk turned his head to look at Spock and waited to see if he could see the tiny twitch of muscles around the Vulcan's mouth and goatee that were a dead giveaway that Spock was trying to be funny.   When he didn't see it he said, "Come off it Spock. That would mean that this... idiot has actual feelings for me and that is..." Kirk's words died off.

Spock blinked a couple of times before he said, "Why is this such a ridiculous notion to you? You have many characteristics that one would desire in a potential mate. You are handsome, charming, intelligent, tenacious, goal orientated and rumor on the ship is that you are well versed in the sensual arts."

Kirk leered at the Vulcan, "You mean that I'm a great fuck, Spock?"  It was all Kirk could do to not laugh at the expression that passed over Spock's face.   He did his best to suppress a chuckle before continuing.

 "Okay. So, supposedly I'm a catch, but once you get past all that what you have left is a suspicious, selfish, crass, vain asshole and who would want that?" As he spoke, Kirk's tone started to soften and he looked once again at the floor.

"Captain." The sound of Spock's voice broke through Kirk's thoughts and he looked up into the sable eyes that seemed to peering back him with not quite concern, but something very close.

"Forgive me for saying so, but it almost seem as if you do not find yourself worthy of another's affection."

This Kirk snapped to attention. He turned on his heels and pointed a finger in the Vulcan's face.  "Now you listen to me Mister. I am Captain James T. Kirk.  I don't need to worry about being worthy, because I don't need or want someone to cuddle me.  I have my ship, I have my command and that is all I need. Now, unless you have something useful to say, I suggest you keep your mouth shut or you'll be eating your agonizer."

Spock looked at the finger in his face and narrowed his eyes.  "Very well, Captain," He said before commanding the lift to start again.  In the next few seconds it stopped once more, this time its doors opening to the bridge. Kirk, with a bit more swagger than was needed made his way to the center seat, while Spock calmly made his way to the science station.

Perched on the edge of his chair, Kirk started to bark out orders to everyone on the bridge. It wasn't long before they were orbiting around Beta Corm 26 and Scotty was making the arrangements in the transporter room to beam down the landing party. Of course, not before Kirk advised Mr. Chekov that he would be tossed to the test tribbles in the labs if he didn't straighten up and Mr. Sulu would be joining him since they were such good friends. He also stated that if Uhura rolled her eyes at him one more time he would knock them out of her skull. He then proceeded to rant about why did he had to be stuck with the most incompetent and insubordinate crew in history of the empire.

When Kirk's eyes finally rolled back in his head and he hit the floor, no one moved.  Mr. Spock from his chair frowned before moving over to the captain's chair, carefully stepping over Kirk and hitting the button on the arm to COMM Dr McCoy, advising the good doctor to come to the bridge at once with a glass of orange juice and a sandwich.

*****

Kirk winced as he touched the knot on the back of his head from where he had hit it that morning and sighed for  at least the hundredth time that day as he crossed the threshold into his room.  Dragging his feet over to his desk, he removed his boots, actively not looking at the book he received that morning.  This had started off as a great day.  What happened? He wondered to himself.

First, there had been book, a stunning gift that had to have cost the giver a shiny credit or two. The flask had been fine, the boots  great and the pants perfect, the book was too much. He couldn't justify it in his mind since the ugly part of his brain kept telling him that he didn't deserve it.

Then there had been Mr. Spock's insightfulness in the lift and then there was the act of passing out on the bridge, (which had nothing to do with his blood sugar. It was surely something else and if McCoy couldn't figure out, then he was truly a piss-poor doctor.)

Then there had been the meeting with the ruling council on the planet.  They we just there to collect tribute but the council insisted that he and Mr. Spock stay for lunch. The lunch they had served had been made with a type of mud, which Spock had explained to Kirk,  was a delicacy on their planet.

Kirk had made his way through the first course, before the he started to feel ill. When questioned about this  Spock merely explained to the council that it was part or Kirk's Solstice practices to limit the amount of decadent foods he consumed during the season. That had seemed to please their hosts and Kirk was offered a nice simple broth which tasted of chicken.

It would turn out though, that the people Beta Corm 26 were very much into the Solstice, letting Kirk and his first officer know that it would be an honor for them to attend the traditional masquerade ball at the High Chancellor's mansion. Kirk had done his best to smile politely and let the council know that while they were honored, they would not be able to make it.

It was only after he beamed back aboard the ship, where he  promptly threw up the mud and broth,   and was screamed at by Admiral Komack for close to an hour about how Kirk would be attending that ball or so help him, he would have Kirk's ass in a sling, that Kirk quickly messaged  the High Chancellor with the good that he would be able to attend after all and boy was he excited.  

McCoy had openly sniggered at him there in conference room, till Kirk informed him that at least two officers had to be in attendance and since Spock was obligated to live in the labs, the doctor would be joining Kirk for the merry making.  Kirk smiled with satisfaction as he watched McCoy's shoulders  drop and the doctor grumble under his breath about how he would rather use old fashioned hypodermic needles to gouge out his eyes.   That had made Kirk feel a little better but not enough and it did not last since he was back to feeling  sullen as he stepped out conference room leaving the doctor to his moaning.

For the rest of the night Kirk sulked on the observation deck where he knew he would be left alone. Now, sitting in his room, tired and still a little nauseous from earlier, he reached back once more to touch the knot on his head, remembering McCoy's mocking smile as he thrust a glass of OJ at him while muttering that he was an idiot.   Kirk dropped his hand in his lap, glowering  and spied a stack of reports on his desk that his yeoman must have left while he had been down on the planet's surface.  Without any thought, and to see if it would make him feel better, Kirk took the back of his hand and knocked over the stack on to the floor.

The colored disks scatted and Kirk stared down at them, realizing that not only was he still in a crappy mood, he had a mess to clean up now too.  Swearing under his breath, he picked up the colored disks, making the effort to stack them back neatly on the desk.  As he did this he reflected on everything that happened and found  he was very angry.

 He was angry at McCoy and his mockery. He was angry at his admirer for their dogged pursuit of him. He was angry with his first officer for his thoughtless comments. He was even more angry at Spock because in the back of Kirk's mind he knew that the Vulcan was right.  More than anyone else though, he was angry with himself, for letting this person get to him.

Once he had replaced the reports back in neat order on his desk, Kirk took to cleaning off the remains of that morning's gift.  He took the book and placed it in his locked cabinet, knowing it would be safe there till he could figure out what to do with it.  Then he set about plucking pieces of gift wrap and tissue paper off the desk, the act of cleaning having a calming effect on him.  I guess I just need to stay busy,  he thought.

As he removed the last few pieces of trash he discovered that there was another box underneath everything waiting for him. Kirk lifted a eyebrow certain that it had not been there that morning.  It was larger than the others had been, the bow on it sliver with the wrapping a shimmering purple. 

Kirk's first thought was to toss out in the corridor and fire at it with his phaser, rendering it to pile of ash, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.  He wanted to open the box. His curiosity was begging him to open the box, his stubbornness told him that it would be a show of weakness to let people know how much this got to him , but mainly it was because, like Spock said, (Damn him and his pointed ears), Kirk loved gifts. He tore into the wrapping and under the lid was a simple folded piece of paper.

"Dearest Captain,

Tomorrow night is the Beta Crom 26's annual masquerade ball in honor of the Solstice. The people of Beta Crom 26 take this holiday very seriously but the ball is their time to let loose and celebrate the season. I know that you have to be in attendance, but I also know that  you will wear your uniform and not actually try to find a costume or for that matter anything nice to wear. "

Kirk stopped and thought about this. Yeah, that sounded about right, since Kirk had no intentions of looking for something else to wear, since he was being forced to attend in the first place. He turned from his musing back to the note.

"This is my final gift to you before we meet. I ask that you wear it to the ball. I think you will find it to be comfortable and  I have always wondered what you would look like in blue. I will be attending the ball as well.  If I see you wearing you gift I will know that you have taken my advances in consideration and I will make myself known to you. If not then I will know that you are truly not interested and I will bother you no more. It is my fondest desire that you accept my gift and me in turn.  Till tomorrow evening I will hold you in my thoughts and long for you to be in my embrace.

As ever

Your faithful and besotted servant.

Kirk frowned at the note before putting it down on the desk and examining this gift. This time the gift was made up several pieces and each one was carefully wrapped in tissue paper separately. Kirk took everything to his bunk and laid out each piece one by one. He gawked wide eyed at the gift as a whole and fumed.  "Fuck!  Now what, Kirk?" He muttered under his breath. He now had a decision to make and he didn't like how things were looking.

Part Four