It begins on the observation deck, while they’re standing side-by-side, gazing at the stars.
Spock glances at his captain. Kirk is standing with his hands clasped behind his back, a private smile on his face. Even though he’s not looking at Spock, there’s still an invisible tether to his thoughts all the same.
Perhaps the tether is simply from Spock; perhaps because he cannot, once again, ignore how beautiful Kirk is against the backdrop of the endless night.
The deck is empty, except for them. There is silence but for the soft, enduring humming of the ship.
Jim finally breaks the silence. “When I was… in that cell.”
“Captain.” Spock turns fully to him. Has to tighten his hands to prevent himself from reaching out. “You are not required to—”
“No, Spock, I… I want to,” Jim softly interjects. He smiles, melancholically, up at him. “When I was in that cell, I truly thought I would be trapped in Janice’s body forever. It was terrifying; I’ve never felt so alone. But then you…” He takes a steadying breath and is uncharacteristically avoiding Spock’s eyes. “You knew me, Spock. And I didn’t feel so terrified and alone.”
“If I can be sure of it, Captain, then you’ll never be alone.”
Jim’s expression melts into a truly bright smile. “Somehow I always knew that.” He reaches out two fingers toward Spock’s hand.
Unsure if Jim knew the full gravity of his gesture, Spock says, “Captain, I don’t think—”
“I know what I’m doing, Spock.” He holds his fingers closer to Spock, across the space between them. “If you want me.”
Spock finds himself speechless with wanting. With careful fingers, he touches his own to Jim’s. There’s a spark of electricity between them. The act in itself is innocent; the look in Jim’s eyes is not.
“In that cell I resolved to tell you, Spock,” Jim continues, “that as long as there’s breath in my body, you will never be alone, either.”
The observation deck is empty; otherwise, someone would see them embrace, Jim’s head resting on Spock’s shoulder, Spock’s fingers running gently through Jim’s hair.