Jaskier: i want to be by your side forever, in whatever capacity you'll have me
Geralt: Marry me
Jaskier: Wait what?
Geralt: I want the romance too. I want the annoying relatives to intrude on the planning. I want the honeymoon by the ocean. I want to watch you walk down the aisle dressed more beautifully than I've ever seen. And then I cry because im so happy and in love with you. and you tease me about it for the rest of our lives
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Thereâs a special potion, something kept only for when witchers are at safety. Complete safety. Usually only when theyâre surrounded by other witchers or locked away somewhere secure and secluded.
It makes him feel⌠dopey. And horny. Itâs just kinda a recharge type of thing, mostly to keep them from going insane.
Itâs Jaskier first time seeing Geralt so wild. He canât sleep, he doesnât eat, heâs got this look in his eyes like heâs full of static. Heâs walking, going through the motions of traveling, but thereâs nothing there. No matter how much Jaskier speaks, pesters, even gives him small touches, Geralt is a zombie.
Finally Jaskier puts his foot down, they had found an old abandoned house, burnt down but the cellar was intact. He took Roachâs reins and tied her to what was left of an old shed, under the cover with plenty of grass around.
He ushered them down into the secure, quiet space. It was spacious for a cellar. Throwing down their bedrolls and their lantern, lighting it with ease. Geralt sat in a corner, eyes blank as he spaced out.
Jaskier locked the door behind them and tossed Geraltâs satchel, his potions and tinctures.
âFix yourself. I refuse to travel another step with you all-all dead fish faced and mopey!â Jaskier commanded and Geralt looked at him. Geralt dug through the satchel and found the small, tiny bottle of something shimmery and white.
Geralt looked at Jaskier as he uncorked the bottle. Jaskier was making the bedrolls and digging through their supplies. He took a sip, a few drops feeling like gold on his tongue.
The next morning when they woke up, Jaskier woke up first for the first time ever. He looked over at Geralt and was shocked. Geralt was smiling. In his sleep, his lips were turned up in a soft smile.
Jaskier was weirded out the entire day. Geralt walked slowly, lazily, he kept petting Roach, a hand gliding across her, fingers in her mane. And he ate. He stood and ate berries from a bush, having to be pulled away. And his eyes were big and round, relaxed.
Jaskier finally found a town, Geralt being no help with navigation at all. He found an inn and shoved Geralt up the stairs with a promise of ale and a bed. It was only as Geralt sat in front of the fireplace in nothing but a towel, shoving bread into his mouth did Jaskier notice something else.
Geralt was blushing, a pink to his cheek, faint and barely there but blush nonetheless. He came up and reached out, touching Geraltâs ear, usually the Witcher would have whipped around and smacked him, bit him, something.
âGeralt? Do you feel well?â Jaskier asked when Geralt leaned into his palm. And then Geralt was turning to nuzzle in closer.
Jaskier soon found out that Geralt was not feeling well. He was feeling everything.
Jaskier hums. All the time. It annoys Geralt at first, but then he starts realizing how useful it is. What song he hums tells you what Jaskier's feeling.
He has a certain song he only hums when he's sad, a song he only hums when he's happy, a song he hums when he's impatient and antsy, a a song he hums when he's feeling nervous, a song he hums when he's tired, he has one for everything.
Geralt's surprised he doesn't have a song to hum when he eats a meal he doesn't enjoy, but then one day Jaskier starts humming after they eat and fucking goddamn it he DOES have one, doesn't he?!
He even has a song he hums whenever he thinks of Geralt. He'll start humming Toss a Coin whenever he thinks of him. Geralt loves whenever he hears Jaskier's happy humming and Toss a Coin start blending together.
ââfucking winter and its wintery fuckingâ cold as balls, ice frozenââ
âJask?â
ââgood for nothingâ oh.â His tossing stops. The ground is so fucking cold. âSorry, did I wake you?â
One golden eye peers at him. He would say Geralt looked annoyed, but he canât see most of his face, tucked as it is under his cloak, so he chooses to interpret it as friendly concern. âYour muttering did.â
Jaskier smiles sheepishly at him, even though Geralt probably canât see him either, with his scarf tied around his neck and covering most of his face. âSorry. Just...â
âCanât sleep?â
Jaskier shakes his head. Itâs their fifth year on the Path together, the first one Geraltâs invited him along to spend the winter at Kaer Morhen with him â and Jaskierâs excited, really, but sleeping on the forest floor with a thin bedroll and definitely not enough blankets kind of dampens his spirits a little.
Theyâve laid their bedrolls side by side, the fire keeping their feet warm, but still Jaskier canât fend off the chill thatâs seeped into his bones. He would blame it on his frilly, beautifully impractical clothing, with its soft but thin fabrics, with its stunning trim but no insulation, but if he did, heâd basically be agreeing with Geralt, and he canât have that. Not even in the privacy of his own mind.
(He still hasnât ruled out the possibility that Witchers are mind-readers). (Geralt is awfully quiet whenever Jaskier brings it up, and, well, one can never be too careful).
So heâs been tossing and turning and singing lullabies to himself in a feeble attempt of finally succumbing to a warm, deep sleep. Not that itâs worked, anyway.
The single golden eye looks considering, now.
âWhaâ?â Jaskier manages before Geralt stands up, the bare skin under his sleep shirt immediately reacting to the cold air of the forest and erupting in gooseflesh.
Then, a blanket is being tossed to his face.
(It smells like horse).
âThere,â says Geralt, not unkindly, his voice a bit rough. âThatâll help.â
âWell,â Jaskier replies, trying to adjust the blanket without taking his hands out of his bedroll, which proves impossible. âThanks.â
Before he can sit up straight and, like a sane person, rearrange the blanket on top of himself, Geraltâs doing it for him. His hair is a mess from where heâs been laying on it and heâs squinting, but his hands are warm as they reach for the ends of the blanket and he tucks them into Jaskierâs bedroll, making sure his body is covered.
âYouâre tucking me in,â Jaskier whispers, something that suspiciously feels like love standing on his heart a little.
Geralt smiles. He smiles his soft smile, the one where his lips stretch over his face and theyâre pink and pretty and thereâs a shine in his eyes.
âI guess I am,â he replies, checking no corners have been missed. âWeâll reach the mountain soon. No more cold nights after that.â
Jaskier smiles. He doesnât know what it might look like on his face, lips chapped and slightly cracked. He hopes it shows his gratitude for him.
Geralt sits back on his haunches. The smile is still there. Fonder, somehow.
âWhat, no kiss goodnight?â Jaskier murmurs, because heâs an idiot, because he canât help himself.
âMm,â Geralt says, and for a second, Jaskier thinks heâs getting up to leave, but then Geralt leans forward and thereâs a gentle, sweet kiss being pressed to his forehead. His smile is bigger when he turns away. âThere. Goodnight.â
Jaskier can feel the warmth on his skin, the skin Geralt pressed a kiss to. He can feel it seeping into his bones.
When he turns around, blanket firmly secured, Geralt is watching him from his own bedroll.
âGoodnight,â he mouths at him, and Geralt closes his eyes.
His cloak is covering half his face again, but Jaskier can see the smile heâs hiding anyway.
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petition that jaskeir has been talking to small creatures the entire time heâs know geralt but the big dumb witcher just never noticed bc jaskier always called them by human names in conversation
âso talking⌠to mice.â
âhm? well it was quite dull geralt, i had to talk to someone. granted, they werenât quite as interesting as chaz is, or even guinn for that matter, but captives canât be choosers, or how the saying goes.â
â youâve talked to mice before??â
âsee itâs things like this that makes me think you never listen to me, geralt, iâve told you a dozen stories about my and guinns many adventures together!â
â⌠guinn is a mouse?â
âdonât be absurd geralt-â
âgood for a second i thought-â
âguinn is the squirrel who lives in the beams of my oxenfurt rooms, heâs got quite the nest up there. i even helped collect some truly beautiful ribbons for decoration one year for a yule giftâ
âyou gave⌠a squirrel.. a yule giftâ
âwell of course i did, it wouldnât do to neglect my friends geraltâ
Such a mundane, simple thing. Something you donât think twice about. Something you just do.
Lie down, close your eyes, relax.
Except for Geralt, it has never been this easy.
He doesnât like sleeping, and thereâs always a good excuse not to â a new hunt, potions to prepare, Roach to take care of. Anything to not have to face the demons that are waiting for him as soon as he attempts to close his eyes.
Itâs not easy, living life on the brink of exhaustion and constant sleep deprivation, but somehow, he mangages. Somehow, he manages to get by on naps here and there and the odd night of sleep every once in a while.
That is, until he meets a certain bard. One who loves sleeping, and is adamant on getting his rest every night.
âI need to preserve my looks, Geralt â you couldnât possibly understand.â
The first time Jaskierâs cold feet touch Geraltâs, the Witcher nearly puts a knife to his throat. Theyâre so icy that he seriously wonders if Jaskier is still alive, and has not, in fact, died, the only logical explanation for the bardâs body temperature.
âItâs not my fault that itâs so fucking cold in this room, Geralt,â he answers, his feet slowly making their way up Geraltâs legs until theyâre pressed in between his thighs, cold enough to cause goose bumps.
âGet your feet off me,â he retorts back, but thereâs no real edge to his voice â not when itâs been years since someone has touched him as innocently as that, even more so without pay.
But Jaskier doesnât budge, and moments later Geralt can feel a skinny arm sneak around his waist and pull him in close. How Jaskier possesses such strength, he does not now.
Maybe that lute is actually heavier than it looks.
Still, he doesnât fight back. He could easily push Jaskier away, even kick him out of bed.
But, even with human icicles stuck between his legs, Geralt can feel himself calm down.
Jaskierâs chest is pressed to his back, the rhythm of his heartbeat slow and steady, a silent lullaby. Somehow, itâs working.
And without having a good excuse, Geralt reaches for the hand that is pressed to his stomach, interlacing their fingers.
For once, thereâs no response, no witty comeback. Just a gentle squeeze to his hand and an even gentler kiss pressed to his neck.
Somehow, the night feels less daunting to face.
Yes, the nightmares are still going to be waiting for him. But for the first time, Geralt doesnât have to face them alone, not with a bard by his side who is holding him so tightly that Geralt fears there may be bruises left on his skin.
Many thanks to the ever-lovely and always talented @spielzeugkaiser for collaborating with me once again on this goofy, exceedingly soft Star Trek AU! 4.3k
Boldly going where no fluff has gone before...
tw: simulated near-death experiences
---
Stardate 47634.44
Commander Geralt deRiv watched with a stoic sense of envy as Counselor Pankratz wrapped his arms around young Ensign Cirilla and gave her a bone-crushing hug. The pretty young Betazoid man picked her up and spun her in a quick circle, his superior height the only way to compensate for her excessively gangly teenage limbs.
The Commander watched from nearby - not too close to the group to be considered an intrusion - and tried to find a logical way to explain why he felt his own mild sense of happiness whenever he heard a note of joy in Counselor Pankratzâs steady tenor. Geralt looked on, still oddly and illogically jealous, as the Counselor pressed a quick kiss to either of Ciriâs cheeks and declared: âCongratulations, cub! Iâm so excited that youâll be staying with us for your last few years of Starfleet training!â
Once the Counselor was finished bestowing his blessings and congratulations, Captain Vesemir stepped forward and clapped his hand over the girlâs shoulder, his sharp hazel eyes sparkling with pride and perhaps even mischief. His bushy grey mustache turned up in the corners, the ultimate marker of his approval. âCongratulations, Ensign Cirilla. Let me be the first to welcome you aboard the USS Kaer Morhen as an official member of the Bridge crew. Weâre happy to have you along with us, my dear.â
âGrandma would be so proud,â Ciri smiled. It wasn't her usual chipper smile, either, but something distant and sad and longing. Geralt found human culture far too touchy-feely for his tastes; except, apparently, when it came to Counselor Pankratz. âMay I send a message to the Away team and let my Mom know about my appointment, Captain?â
âOf course,â Vesemir grinned. âIâm sure that sheâll be incredibly proud of you, cub.â
Counselor Pankratz hugged Ciri one last time and Geralt felt his jealousy return, crackling just beneath the surface of his too-pale skin. The Commanderâs sudden bout of white-hot emotion jarred him back to reality and he took a step forward, ready to offer Ciri his own set of congratulations. When Jaskier shot him a curious sidelong glance, however, Geralt realized that he needed to keep his feelings more deeply in check than he already was - having feelings for a Betazoid was difficult enough.
He stepped forward and patted the newly officiated Ensign on the shoulder twice, as he had just seen Vesemir do, an obvious sign of trust and competency, âExcellent work, Cirilla. I look forward to having you on the Away team. You have a clever mind and sharp observational skills; they will be a great asset.â
The young womanâs eyes widened above her already enormous smile and she bounced twice on the balls of her feet, her hands clasped beneath her chin and her cheeks flushed pink with all the praise. âThank you so much, Commander deRiv! It means the world to hear you say that!â
âYou are a commendable officer and always do your job to the best of your abilities. I am pleased to hear that you will remain a part of our crew,â Geralt nodded, eyebrows furrowed with the seriousness of his statement. He folded his hands behind his back and shifted his eyes up to meet the Captainâs, unsure of how to proceed with the boisterous Ensignâs enthusiastic response to his comments. âMay I be dismissed, sir?â
âYes, thank you, Commander. Iâll read over your report from the last Away mission this evening and send you any questions or comments I may have before your bridge shift tomorrow.â
âUnderstood. Thank you, Captain.â
---
Stardate 47634.44
âSo the two of them have actually met before?â Vesemir clarified. Lambert nodded, smirking a little too smugly for anyoneâs comfort. The Captain continued, ever-wary of the officerâs tendency to play pranks, âAnd you think that theyâre in love?â
âI wouldnât necessarily call it love. I mean, not to interrupt Lambertâs gossiping, Captain, but your Senior Science Officer and your Shipâs Counselor definitely have feelings for each other. Iâve seen the tips of Geraltâs pointy ears go green just from passing Jaskierâs table in Ten Forward,â Eskel noted from the raised Security platform behind the Captainâs chair. âAnd despite being a serial hugger and hand-holder, Jask keeps himself politely disengaged and professional whenever heâs dealing with our shy Commander deRiv.â
âTheyâre idiots, Captain,â First Officer Vengerberg added from her seat at Vesemirâs side. Yennefer was radiating pride and happiness, resplendent from Ciriâs recent acceptance to Starfleet and continued assignment on the Kaer Morhen. Still, she found a moment to roll her eyes and contribute, âCommander deRiv refuses to let his human side show by constantly shielding and suppressing his emotions, meanwhile Counselor Pankratz is too polite to try and hit on a man from a species known for their lack of romantic tendencies. And, since Jaskier is still half-human himself, he canât technically read thoughts. He can only detect feelings. In my personal opinion, Captain, Jaskier isnât sure what the Commander thinks of him.â
âAye, sir, I agree with the Witch,â Lambert nodded. He glanced over his shoulder from his place at the helm and winked at the dark-haired woman roguishly. âUnfortunately.â
Yennefer stuck her tongue out at him.
âKnock it off, you two.â The Captain tried to hide his amusement behind a stern tone but didnât quite succeed. âI have more pressing matters to deal with than your endless bickering - like children, I swear. Anyhow, we only narrowly managed to make it away from Florelia-4 without breaking the Prime Directive and interrupting their sacrificial rites. We need to be more careful the next time we make contact with such a young, underdeveloped society.â
âIâm sure that Jaskier would be able to teach us a thing or two about diplomacy, especially now that heâs more comfortable around us and has adjusted to the ship. The Counselor probably should have been on that Away team in the first place, then perhaps our unfortunate little debacle could have been prevented entirely.â
âYouâre certainly right about his place on the Away team, Yen. I think Iâd like him to take the Bridge Officersâ test as well; it would be a great boon to our company to have an empath with Bridge clearance.â
âDo you think heâll be able to pass on his first try, Captain?â the Security Chief asked.
âHeâll need help, Commander Eskel. I expect youâll be able to tutor him?â
âI donât have the time,â Eskel rebutted. âNor does Lambert; weâre working on that new Ensign Training Program for the Holodeck. Starfleet asked us to have our rough draft turned in by next week.â
âHmm,â Vesemir leaned back and closed his eyes. His eyebrows gathered at the center of his forehead as he concentrated and Lambert got a terrible idea; a truly awful, completely horrible idea that would definitely end with Commander Geraltâs infinite happiness (regardless of how long it actually took the dumbass Science Officer to get his shit together).
He piped up, chest puffed confidently: âNot to bring the conversation back around to the Commander and his nervous blushing, but why not have Pretty Boy tutor the Counselor, Captain?â
Vesemir let one eye slide carefully open, focusing on the sassy young Lieutenant at the helm. âYou mean that I should ask Commander deRiv to keep an eye on Jaskier for the duration of his Bridge Officersâ training?â
âPrecisely,â First Officer Vengerberg grinned, catching onto the meaning behind Lambertâs increasingly smug smile. âOh, youâre absolutely evil, Lamb.â
âI donât like to meddle in the lives of my officers,â Vesemir grumbled, truly conflicted. âBut this promises to be both beneficial and entertaining to all involved.â
âCâmon Captain,â Lambert pleaded. âIf heâs too busy to help the Counselor then heâll tell you so; Geralt isnât exactly known for his abilities to make excuses or beat around the bush.â
âAlright, alright. Youâre all awful and so am I. So be it.â Vesemir huffed. He tapped his communicator pin twice and spoke clearly, âCommander deRiv, please report to the Bridge.â
âOn my way, Captain,â the Commanderâs monotone voice crackled back.
Lambert and Ciri high-fived at the helm and Yennefer shook her head, biting back a pleased grin. Even the usually calm and collected Eskel seemed excited for whatever was about to unfold.
---
Counselor Pankratz arrived a few minutes after Commander deRiv, determined to speak with the Captain about a completely unrelated matter, and found himself on the business end of Vesemirâs affectionately stern scowl. âAfter the incident that occurred on our recent Away mission to Florelia-4, Iâd like to give you a promotion and increase your list of responsibilities to include supervising any potentially diplomatic situations the Kaer Morhen may encounter from here on out.â
Jaskier gawked openly for a moment before gathering his wits enough to reply: âIâm more than happy to accept your kind and generous offer, Captain Vesemir, and Iâm incredibly honored that you would consider me for such a position!â
Geralt stepped forward to stand at Vesemirâs side and Jaskier found himself struggling to remain focused on his commanding officerâs continued speech: âIâd also like you to take the Bridge Officersâ test. Commander deRiv will be in charge of your training regimen, so Iâd like you to meet him at the holodeck sometime tomorrow evening for your first round of tutoring. Iâll let you two figure out the finer details, since Iâm not privy to your individual schedules.â
âYes, sir.â Jaskier fought bravely against the growing urge to faint and hid his sudden anxiety behind a calm and grateful smile. âThank you again for your trust in my capabilities, Captain. Iâm truly excited for these new opportunities to learn and to become closer with the other members of the crew.â
Geralt gave a single, accepting nod. âI will do my best to instruct Counselor Pankratz, Captain.â
Lambert winked at the Captain from behind the two unwitting officersâ backs and Vesemirâs scowl relaxed into a near-smile. The Captain clapped Geralt on the shoulder much the same way Geralt had done with Ciri earlier and Geralt wondered if it was mischief glinting in Vesemirâs stormy hazel eyes when he replied, âIâm sure you will, Commander.â
Stardate 47634.44, Evening
Geralt dreamed of his father for the first time that night.
The two men were standing in Geraltâs quarters, familiar and comfortable, as if Korin deRiv had always been a member of the Kaer Morhenâs crew. The human man was grinning down at Geralt with a shining sense of pride.
âLook at you, my son,â Korin smiled, his green eyes crinkling at the corners to reveal his crowâs feet. âYouâve grown quite a bit since I last saw you.â
âFather,â Geralt bowed his head respectfully.
âJust like your Mother, I see,â Korin teased. âAll mannerly and polite, with a resting expression more akin to a scowl than a smile. Are you logical to a fault as well, my son?â
Geralt frowned more deeply than he already had been and turned his face away, unable to let his own confusion and conflicting emotions show. Visenna had done little in the way of raising Geralt to begin with, and sheâd grown even more distant after his fatherâs untimely death. Geralt supposed that, with only his Motherâs brilliant coldness as an example of affectionate behavior, he may have taken after her more than heâd realized.
His shoulders sagged and his head drooped.
âYes.â
âHmm. You even sound like her,â Korin said. He came around to Geraltâs other side and put one hand on his sonâs broad shoulder. âI may not have the kind of mental prowess that you and your Mother share, but I know a yearning heart when I see one.â
âVulcans do not yearn,â Geralt snapped. He glared up into those familiar eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, feeling (and looking) a little childish as he did so.
âHumans do,â his Father smiled. âAnd I think that you would feel better if you remembered more often that youâre only half-Vulcan. The other half of your very DNA demands romance, companionship, love, and creativity. Donât be afraid to step outside of your logical enclosure once and awhile. You may be happily surprised with the results, my son.â
âDid you ever-â Geralt bit his tongue, considered his words, and then continued, âDid you ever regret your decision to stay with Mother?â
âOnce,â Korin admitted. âOnly once, and it was the day after you were born. She held you in her arms only long enough to feed you and then she handed you to the nursemaid without another word. Not even a parting kiss for her newborn child. Then I remembered her lineage, the way sheâd been brought up - without even a scrap of affection - and I forgave her. I loved her all the more after that, to make up for the tenderness she hadnât gotten to experience when she needed it mostâŚâ
Geralt felt an unfamiliar heat behind his eyes and reached up to wipe away a tear. He glared down at the glistening drop of moisture; it clung to the tip of his finger almost desperately, forcing him to confront the emotions he worked so hard to hide during his waking hours. His chest ached. His lungs burned. This felt more real than a dream, more solid and weighty than any subconscious urging.
âLet yourself love him, Geralt,â Korin said as he began to fade from sight, âDonât argue yourself out of your own happiness. Donât let yourself be held back by tradition. Not in the face of an emotion so wonderful it could change the way you see the lights outside your starship windows. Free your mind, my son, and your heart will follow.â
With Korinâs ghostly warning thus issued, Geralt sat straight up in bed. He gasped for breath, clutching at his chest - the tacky wetness of half-dried tears on his cheeks was a totally foreign sensation.
Jaskier was at the forefront of his mind, as if the Counselor had been caught on repeat in the Vulcanâs thoughts.
Geralt pictured the way the younger manâs blue eyes sparkled when he laughed. The way Jaskierâs hips swayed enchantingly as meandered his way through Ten Forward or down the starshipâs plain beige halls. The way his hair fell just so over his forehead and around his ears. The way he made everyone feel comfortable and safe in their own skin when he was near, an accidental byproduct of both his empathic powers and cheerful personality.
With every little detail Geralt remembered about Jaskier, he felt his human emotions growing stronger and more easy to define. He sorted through them by name in an odd and stringently Vulcan attempt to calm himself down: Lust. Adoration. Excitement. Jealousy. Happiness. Confusion. Anticipation.
Perhaps, though he was still too nervous to fully accept or analyze it yet, Love.
Geralt remained awake all through the night as he attempted to understand and accept the feelings heâd spent his entire life desperately trying to evade.
Still, as a beam of artificial sunlight projected down from the ceiling to spread across his pillow at 06:00, Commander deRiv found himself smiling at the idea that heâd be joining the Counselor on the holodeck later that afternoon, joy blooming hot and comforting at the center of his chest.
It was a sensation he wouldnât mind getting used to.
Stardate 47648.47
Commander deRiv spent two impossibly long weeks tutoring Counselor Pankratz for the Bridge Officersâ test. The stubborn Counselor insisted that his senior officer refer to him only as âJaskierâ and in turn only referred to the Commander by his first name, the word âGeraltâ falling from Jaskierâs lips with such musical normalcy that it nearly felt affectionate.
The time he spent working as Jaskierâs devoted tutor were two of the most tortuous and wonderful weeks of Geraltâs extensive Vulcan lifetime. At the end of the final day of pre-test training courses, Jaskier asked Geralt to meet him for dinner at Ten Forward to celebrate. âIâve never gone through the promotional system this way and itâs really quite thrilling. I owe you so many favors, dearest Geralt.â
âHmm.â
âI can feel how proud you are of me,â Jaskier teased, his fingers brushing against Geraltâs shoulder in a casual gesture of affection. The Counselor had grown more comfortable around the Science Officer but still refused to let his touches linger for more than a few seconds at a time. The contact never included full embraces, either; a fact which seemed to grow more bothersome to Geralt with every passing day. The Counselorâs eyebrows crinkled together and his hand fell back to his side, âI suddenly sense an anger in you, a frustration that wasnât present just before. Are you feeling alright, Commander?â
Commander.
The word struck Geralt in the center of the chest like a Romulan phaser blast, knocking the breath from his lungs. Jaskier hadnât called him Geralt, musical and sweet and blissfully normal, but Commander. The senior officer reigned in his feelings, slipping back into the comfortable apathy of his Vulcan breeding.
âIâm alright,â Geralt replied smoothly. âI fear that I have not done your training justice; I apologize that I allowed my control to slip. I did not mean for you to experience the brunt of any such negative feelings, Cou- Jaskier.â
A slight smile returned to the Betazoidâs face and his cheeks flushed. Clearly Geralt had made the right decision by ignoring his instinct to use Jaskierâs full title. âI was just worried about you, thatâs all.â
âBecause I care about you.â Jaskier brushed his hand against the back of Geraltâs again, feather-light and far too quick to provide any satisfaction to Geraltâs endless yearning. âAnyway, I canât sense them anymore, now.â
âI⌠handled them.â
âYou can just turn your feelings on and off like a lightswitch?â Jaskier inquired, genuine curiosity strong in his tone. âThey disappeared so quickly.â
âHmm,â Geralt acknowledged, nodding solemnly. âHistorically, emotional control is one of the greatest achievements of Vulcan society. We do not allow our feelings to affect our decisions. We are purely logical, even when parts of our culture appear... otherwise.â
âI am from a very different type of society myself,â Jaskier shrugged. âBut Iâm sure you know enough about Betazed to understand what I mean. Now, about that dinner?â
They ordered their respective meals from the tableside replicator and chatted as they ate, discussing a wide range of topics. Eventually they landed on: âVulcan poetry! Iâd love to hear some, if youâve got anything memorized!â
Geralt gave a decent recitation of his favorite childhood poem - the nonsensical story of a young man who could speak to the stars - and watched as Jaskierâs eyes grew round. He knew this expression to be one of adoration or wonder, but he could not sense emotions, and could not parse out the Counselorâs exact reaction. Instead he asked: âYourself?â
âBetazed has many great poets,â Jaskier mused. âBut theyâre always so truthful about everything. Thereâs no mystery in our art, no room for subjective interpretation. I like poems with nuance and insecurity and feeling. I canât recite it because the written formatting is so integral to its message, but âHow Do I Love Youâ by the renowned human poet Mary Oliver always tangles my heart around itself like a web of yarn. To end the poem with âno more words nowâ and no punctuation is⌠enlightening.â
Geralt nodded, adding that information to the bank of details he knew about Counselor Pankratz. âHer work sounds fascinating.â
âPerhaps I could show you my volume of her collected poetry? Iâd love to hear your thoughts on the subject.â
âI would be honored,â Geralt nodded, standing from the table and gesturing for Jaskier to lead the way. Counselor Pankratz stood and took Geraltâs hand in his own, interlacing their fingers as casually as anything.
The Commander startled and yanked his arm back without thinking, his mind reeling from the intimacy of such an embrace. Hand touching was⌠it was⌠what Jaskier had just done on instinct was far more intimate than anything Geralt had experienced before. The half-Vulcanâs emotions were running wildly away from his firm control.
Jaskierâs face crumpled when he registered Geraltâs rejection and he took a step back. âOh, my apologies, Commander. Iâm sincerely sorry for whatever offense I have committed.â
âItâs not an offense itâs just that-â Geralt took a deep breath to steady himself â-touching hands is not something a Vulcan does casually. It is a very meaningful and personal gesture on my planet.â
âThat particular detail of your heritage slipped my mind in my excitement,â the Counselor bowed shallowly, his pretty blue shawl nearly slipping off one slender shoulder. âMy continued apologies, Commander. I hope you can forgive me.â
âIt was an accident,â Geralt replied. âAnd there is nothing to forgive. It pleases me that you were comfortable enough to treat me as a friend, Jaskier.â
âYou called me by my name! That means you must forgive me. Now, are you still interested in seeing those poems?â
Geralt smiled, that warm joyful feeling spreading out through his limbs once again at the sight of Jaskierâs giddy grin. âLead the way.â
Stardate 47653.52
Jaskier squared his shoulders and leaned over one of the Engineering monitors, âComputer, load Bridge Officer's test, Engineering qualification section one.â
âComputer ready.â
âRun programme.â
Lambert spoke up from beside him, the colors on his monitor flashing and shifting: âThe control system for the primary containment field is not functioning.â
Geraltâs head snapped up and he locked eyes with Jaskier. âSomething's severed the ODN conduit between here and the antimatter storage deck.â
Jaskier realized what was happening and felt a rush of icy anxiety down the length of his spine. âGeralt, could you repair the ODN conduit if you used the crawlspace between decks?â
Lambert frowned. âSir, that crawlway is in a warp-plasma shaft. He would never survive the radiation.â
âI know that,â Jaskier snapped, trying to keep a level head. Even if this was just a simulation, he hated the idea of sending Geralt to his death. It was the most horrifying thought in the universe, but Geralt was the only one whose expertise could save the ship. And the hundreds of others aboard that ship. âStill, Iâm afraid that particular information doesnât change anything. Geralt, can you repair the conduit?â
The Science Officer nodded once, his face as unmoving as ever. âYes, Sir.â
âThen do it. That's an order.â
Geralt grabbed a toolbox off the table, turned, and ducked into one of the Jeffries tubes that led to the crawl ducts.
Lambert laughed with glee as he slapped his hand down over one of the glowing instructional panels. âEnd simulation! Well, Officer Pankratz, Iâd like to be the first to offer my official congratulations on your new promotion. You passed!â
Jaskier breathed shakily and smiled over at Geralt, who had returned to his position at the secondary control panel. âThat's what this was all about, wasn't it? To see if I could order someone to their death. Someone⌠Someone I care about.â
Geralt nodded. âThat's right.â
âI know that sacrifice is part of being in command and I thought I was prepared for it, but when the moment came... I hesitated. Maybe I shouldnât have applied in the first place. I donât know that I could ever hurt y- uh, hurt a fellow crew member, even in an emergency situation.â
âYou did exactly what you had to do,â Geralt intoned, taking Jaskier gently by the hand. Jaskier gasped at the gesture, knowing exactly what kind of cultural lines Geralt was crossing for a Vulcan. Lambert disappeared from the room, finally showing his gentlemanly side, and Geralt continued in his low gravelly voice: âYou considered all your options, tried every alternative, and then made the hardest but most logical choice a good Captain can make. Now, let's get out of here, Commander. Let me take you to Ten Forward to celebrate.â
Geralt had turned to make for the door but Jaskier tugged him back again, keeping both of his own feet planted firmly on the carpet. âWait a moment, please?â
Geralt slowly spun to face Jaskier, one of his slanted eyebrows raised in curiosity. âYes, Commander?â
âStop calling me that,â Jaskier landed a limp-wristed slap to the Science Officerâs chest with his free hand. Geralt felt the urge to smile and allowed himself the indulgence; it was well worth the sunny grin that Jaskier gave him in return. âAnyway, Officer deRiv⌠Thereâs something I need to tell you.â
âI like you, too.â
âThis may sound odd but Iâm a highly emotional being and I- Wait, what?â
âYou are incredibly sweet, Counselor Pankratz, and very kind. You care deeply for those around you and always do your best to help them find peace for themselves. I find those to be admirable traits, logically appealing in a mate, and I also find you⌠rather pretty.â
Jaskierâs eyes were nebulas, two sparkling pools of endless blue that twinkled and shone as if filled with the very stars themselves. Geraltâs heart raced as he brought their linked hands up and brushed his warm lips against the back of Jaskierâs knuckles. The Betazoid bit his lip, flushed an even deeper pink, and whispered his request: âMay I kiss you, Imzadi?â
âWeâre already kissing,â Geralt glanced down at their joined hands.
âAccording to Vulcans, yes,â Jaskierâs smile widened. âBut may I kiss you according to my traditions?â
âYes,â Geralt agreed, leaning forward to meet Jaskier halfway. The newly minted Commander released Geraltâs hand in order to tangle his fingers in the taller manâs silvery hair. He kissed Geralt with everything he had, pushing his feelings across the difference in their telepathic wavelengths, desperate to make himself clear. Make himself known.
When they pulled apart for air, Geralt was grinning. âKissing for such a long time is completely illogicalâŚâ
Jaskier felt his heart drop into his shoes.
And then Geraltâs hands were on his waist, pulling him in again, rumbling laughter carrying the Vulcanâs next words, âDo it again!â