“Dude, no one takes photos for
Instagram in portrait mode, give it here!”
Zach snatched the phone from Chris’s
hand and turned it on the platter that sat between them. “I don’t even know
what you’re talking about, anyway. They’re just pancakes.”
“They are not just pancakes. They’re perfectly round! And
these berries are delicious! Look at how the syrup just kind of flows off them? It’s like a food ad.”
Thirty minutes earlier…
Zoe gaped at the carnage in the
trashcan. “How many of these have you thrown away?”
Zach barely looked up from dispensing
creamy batter through a squeeze bottle. “I dunno, all of them?”
“Zachary!”
“Shut up, it has to be perfect!
You don’t understand, that dinner he made was amazing. Did I mention the foie?”
“You haven’t shut up about the
foie in two weeks. I don’t know why you’re being so competitive about this.”
Zach straightened up and cocked
an eyebrow. “Have you met me? Now, the perfect strawberry isn’t going to
discover itself: you’ve got 3 more quarts to go.”
In what might be considered a coward’s move (he hasn’t decided), Chris brings Patty to Zach’s birthday party. She didn’t raise any objections when he first proposed the idea to her, was more than happy to tag along as Chris’… plus-one? Date?
Buffer, maybe.
More than enough people have assumed it’s a publicity thing, subtle promotion for their film. And maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Maybe Chris isn’t trying to ignore the feeling of being ignored. There’s always been an abundance of maybe’s in Chris’ life, especially where Zach is concerned.
This is a snippet from the STB Spirk fic I was talking about – I was already thinking about it when that K/S turbolift scene post cropped up on my dash and I took that as a sign to start writing. It was originally going to be a one-shot, but I’m seriously considering exploring the entire movie from an Spirk standpoint. Thoughts?
“Your heart really wasn’t in this, was it?
Spock blinked. “My heart,” he repeated,
brow furrowing slightly.
“It’s a saying, Spock,” Jim said with the
barest hint of a sigh, leaning back in his chair to down the remainder of his
whisky. “What I mean is you seem preoccupied. In fact, you’ve been quieter than
usual for a few weeks now.” His gaze swept Spock’s face, noting again the absence
of any kind of reaction to his words. “If you need someone to talk to… I’m
here.”
“I do not believe that talking would resolve the
situation.”
Jim hesitated, unsure how far to push, but he
decided to at least broach the subject. “Is this about Uhura? I heard that you
two broke up… I’m sorry.”
“No apology is necessary. It was a mutual
decision.”
“Oh?”
“Indeed.” Spock abruptly rose from his
chair. “If you will excuse me, Captain, I shall return to my quarters to
meditate before I retire.”
“Spock.” Jim jumped to his feet and,
without thinking, reached out to catch his hand. It was only meant to prevent
Spock from leaving, but it had rather more of an effect. Standing so close, Jim
heard the sharp inhale of breath and saw the way Spock’s eyes widened. In the
moment, he’d forgotten that Vulcans were touch-telepaths. Cursing his
stupidity, Jim snatched his hand away as though he’d been burned. He could only
hope that he hadn’t let too much slip during those few seconds of contact, but
he feared that the hope blossoming in his chest had been hard to miss. “I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“There was no discomfort to speak of.
However I did sense that you, too, are perturbed.”
Damn
it. “Yeah, well… that goes with being a starship
captain, I guess.”
“Can be of assistance?”
“I don’t think so, Spock. I just… ” He
shook his head, giving the whole evening up as a bad idea. “Never mind. I’ll
let you go meditate.”
Attempting to step back, he stumbled and Spock
was instantly there, long fingers closing around his upper arm to steady him. Jim’s
heart skipped a beat as he found himself almost nose to nose with Spock, who
showed no signs of removing his hand.
“Jim…”
Gazing into the dark eyes locked with his,
Jim felt like he was standing at the edge of a precipice. He didn’t know if
Spock would catch him or not, but the numerous glasses of whisky in his belly made
him bold enough to jump.
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