The taxi stopped at 900 Lombard St, San Francisco, California, Earth and two men got out. A Human wearing a long-sleeved, green cotton dress shirt and blue jeans, paid the driver, while the Vulcan dressed in a soft blue jump suit that covered his boots, retrieved their duffel bags from the trunk.
The taxi drove off as Commander Spock and Doctor McCoy approached the front door of their new town house. Spock’s cousin and realtor had rightly described it as Mediterranean meets Mardi Gras; from its red tiled roof to its mellow, white stucco walls, its wrap-around wrought iron balcony and dark green shutters. The double doors, that comprised main entrance, were painted the same dark green. No one in this neighborhood would notice the mixture of elements. The house was set cheek-to-jowl with a pink, early 20th century gingerbread and a 22nd century Ferro Crete block house.
The Human took the key-card out of his wallet and slapped it on the reader. After a long second, the light blinked green and the doors clicked open. During that long second, the Vulcan had set down the luggage and started to sweep the Human into his arms.
“
Spock, stop that!” McCoy protested. “What in tarnation do you think you’re doing?”
Spock stopped with his arm around McCoy’s shoulder. “I am attempting to carry you over the threshold.” Spock’s voice held a hint of ‘isn’t it obvious?’
“”
Preciate it, Shug.” McCoy turned and kissed Spock. “But we ought to save something for the honeymoon.”
“
Do not worry about the honeymoon, Lenka.” The Vulcan said quietly. He shouldered the bags and then swooped his fiancé up into his arms and marched over the threshold into their new home. Len laughed and ducked his head. It wouldn’t do to have a concussion on their first night in their first home.
The Mediterranean theme was carried indoors. The walls were a cool white. The floor was glazed terra-cotta tiles that ran from the entrance one step down into the living room, through the kitchen and out onto the patio. The living room ended in an Algerian/Argelian fireplace done in white stucco with glazed mosaic tiles of gold, green, blue and some shade of ultra-violet that only Spock could discern.
Their footsteps echoed through the empty space as Len and Spock went to inspect the kitchen. It seemed to be a traditional kitchen, with a refrigerator, cook top, oven and microwave. Leonard opened a cabinet and found the food replicator.
“
Humph.” he grunted. “Boy, I am I relieved to see this. Some nights a body just don’t feel like cooking.”
Spock commented. “I am surprised. Aboard the Enterprise, you continually commented that you were looking forward to making homemade meals, and showing me how ’real’ food ought to taste.” He cocked his head “I believe I recall something about ratatouille and peach cobbler.”
McCoy laughed. “Yeah, sure. And the occasional steak grilled out back, but not every day.” Len lifted an eyebrow and fixed his T’hy’la’ with a knowing look. “Sometimes we will be otherwise occupied.”
Spock flushed verdantly. “Indeed.” He took Len’s hand. “Why don’t we explore the upstairs?”
The empty upstairs had magnolia walls and oatmeal tweed carpet so plush it moved underfoot and deaden sound. The sun shone through the curtain-less French windows in the front of the house.
The boys gravitated to the view. Bones watch a hover car winding down crooked Lombard St, wincing at a near miss with a giant planter of geraniums. He glanced over to Spock and saw that his eyes were closed.
“
What’s the matter, Spock? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights?
“
No, I am just appreciating the sun light and the warmth.”
“
With your eyes closed?” McCoy put an arm around Spock.
“
Yes, staring directly into a star is blinding.” Eyes closed, Spock still managed to arch an eyebrow.
“
I recall something along those lines.” Len gave his partner a squeeze. “Let’s see the rest of the house.”
The first bedroom was larger than an officer’s stateroom aboard the Enterprise. Its windows faced out to the street and got the afternoon sun. It shared a standard bathroom suite of toilet, sink, tub and shower/fresher, with the smaller bedroom down the hall.
At the back of the house was the master bedroom, it overlooked the back yard and would get the morning sun. It had twin walk-in closets and a master bathroom that was a paragraph in itself.
“…
.and the bed will go here.” Len concluded. “What do you think darlin’?”
“
I’m sure you will be quite comfortable here, as will I in the first sleeping chamber.”
McCoy grabbed Spock by the shoulders and spun him so they were facing. “The hell you will! This is our home. We can sleep together, now.” He stared intently into his lover’s face. “You know, Sleep Together”
Spock was taken aback. “I thought that ‘sleeping together’ was a euphemism for having sexual congress, not actually sharing a bed night after night.” He tried to stoke Leonard’s cheek, but Leonard turned away.
“
Of course it means sharing a bed night after night. That’s what normal people do, you hot-blooded hob-goblin.”
“
Normal people where, My Leonard? On Vulcan, people of my social order keep separate sleeping quarters. Mates come together to procreate or to practice procreation and then return to their own beds.”
“
Your mom must have loved that.” McCoy grumbled.
“She adapted, but then so did my father and the household staff.” Spock said with a half smile. “Think on this, beloved. I am an only child. I did not share a sleep chamber when I lived on Vulcan. At the Academy I had a roommate, but we did not share a bed. On the Enterprise, T’hy’la, you were the only person whom I ever allowed, or even wanted, to sleep over.”
Len shrugged. “I’m honored, I guess.”
Spock elaborated. “In my Star Fleet career, I have only been aboard the Enterprise…”
“
Fifteen years…”
“
Fifteen years, six months and eleven days, from Ensign in the Science Lab to Commander and First Officer, I never, literally, slept with anyone but you.” The Vulcan offered two fingers to his fiancé. The Human reciprocated. Warmth, passion and the echoes of past loneliness passed along the link. “As a touch telepath, I must be careful whom I chose to share the moments when my shields are at their weakest.”
Hands weren’t enough, Leonard embraced his lover. “Darlin’, that’s about the sweetest thing you ever said to me.” They kissed deeply until they had to come up for air. Len continued. “I reckon we can make this work. After all, I recollect complaining that you kept your quarters hot enough to bake a cake…”
“
And you keep yours cool enough to store perishable food stuffs.”
“
On top of that, you spend nights on end, meditating and staring into a fire. Who lights a fire in an already sweltering room? And how did you get permission to light a fire aboard a starship?”
“
Now, you ask? Who keeps books and heavy (and I might add) unattractive book ends on the head of their bunk on a starship?”
“
The bookends were a gift from my mother.” Len huffed. “What about those red drapes?”
“
They were a gift from my mother when I was promoted to Lt. Commander. They provide both insulation and soundproofing.”
“
Living next door to Jim, you needed all the sound-proofing you could get. He‘s one busy boy.” McCoy laughed. “Speaking of busy….” McCoy’s mouth moved down Spock’s neck. Spock gasped and threw his head back. Len released the fastener on the blue jump suit and opened it down to the navel. He moved the collar away Spock’s nape began to bite and lick while his hand explored his mate’s chest.
Spock stroked Len’s soft brown hair. His hands would drift down to his partner’s neck and flit up to his psi-points. They had mutually agreed that they were wearing too many clothes when the door bell rang. They groaned in disappointment.
McCoy slapped this intercom button. “Yeah, who is it?”
“
Federated Movers, sir. We brought your furniture.” A man replied in a Georgian accent.
Spock caught Leonard’s eye. “A bed, beloved. They have brought a bed.”
A wicked grin split Len’s face. He spoke into the intercom. “We’ll be right down.”
FIN
The taxi drove off as Commander Spock and Doctor McCoy approached the front door of their new town house. Spock’s cousin and realtor had rightly described it as Mediterranean meets Mardi Gras; from its red tiled roof to its mellow, white stucco walls, its wrap-around wrought iron balcony and dark green shutters. The double doors, that comprised main entrance, were painted the same dark green. No one in this neighborhood would notice the mixture of elements. The house was set cheek-to-jowl with a pink, early 20th century gingerbread and a 22nd century Ferro Crete block house.
The Human took the key-card out of his wallet and slapped it on the reader. After a long second, the light blinked green and the doors clicked open. During that long second, the Vulcan had set down the luggage and started to sweep the Human into his arms.
“
Spock, stop that!” McCoy protested. “What in tarnation do you think you’re doing?”
Spock stopped with his arm around McCoy’s shoulder. “I am attempting to carry you over the threshold.” Spock’s voice held a hint of ‘isn’t it obvious?’
“”
Preciate it, Shug.” McCoy turned and kissed Spock. “But we ought to save something for the honeymoon.”
“
Do not worry about the honeymoon, Lenka.” The Vulcan said quietly. He shouldered the bags and then swooped his fiancé up into his arms and marched over the threshold into their new home. Len laughed and ducked his head. It wouldn’t do to have a concussion on their first night in their first home.
The Mediterranean theme was carried indoors. The walls were a cool white. The floor was glazed terra-cotta tiles that ran from the entrance one step down into the living room, through the kitchen and out onto the patio. The living room ended in an Algerian/Argelian fireplace done in white stucco with glazed mosaic tiles of gold, green, blue and some shade of ultra-violet that only Spock could discern.
Their footsteps echoed through the empty space as Len and Spock went to inspect the kitchen. It seemed to be a traditional kitchen, with a refrigerator, cook top, oven and microwave. Leonard opened a cabinet and found the food replicator.
“
Humph.” he grunted. “Boy, I am I relieved to see this. Some nights a body just don’t feel like cooking.”
Spock commented. “I am surprised. Aboard the Enterprise, you continually commented that you were looking forward to making homemade meals, and showing me how ’real’ food ought to taste.” He cocked his head “I believe I recall something about ratatouille and peach cobbler.”
McCoy laughed. “Yeah, sure. And the occasional steak grilled out back, but not every day.” Len lifted an eyebrow and fixed his T’hy’la’ with a knowing look. “Sometimes we will be otherwise occupied.”
Spock flushed verdantly. “Indeed.” He took Len’s hand. “Why don’t we explore the upstairs?”
The empty upstairs had magnolia walls and oatmeal tweed carpet so plush it moved underfoot and deaden sound. The sun shone through the curtain-less French windows in the front of the house.
The boys gravitated to the view. Bones watch a hover car winding down crooked Lombard St, wincing at a near miss with a giant planter of geraniums. He glanced over to Spock and saw that his eyes were closed.
“
What’s the matter, Spock? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights?
“
No, I am just appreciating the sun light and the warmth.”
“
With your eyes closed?” McCoy put an arm around Spock.
“
Yes, staring directly into a star is blinding.” Eyes closed, Spock still managed to arch an eyebrow.
“
I recall something along those lines.” Len gave his partner a squeeze. “Let’s see the rest of the house.”
The first bedroom was larger than an officer’s stateroom aboard the Enterprise. Its windows faced out to the street and got the afternoon sun. It shared a standard bathroom suite of toilet, sink, tub and shower/fresher, with the smaller bedroom down the hall.
At the back of the house was the master bedroom, it overlooked the back yard and would get the morning sun. It had twin walk-in closets and a master bathroom that was a paragraph in itself.
“…
.and the bed will go here.” Len concluded. “What do you think darlin’?”
“
I’m sure you will be quite comfortable here, as will I in the first sleeping chamber.”
McCoy grabbed Spock by the shoulders and spun him so they were facing. “The hell you will! This is our home. We can sleep together, now.” He stared intently into his lover’s face. “You know, Sleep Together”
Spock was taken aback. “I thought that ‘sleeping together’ was a euphemism for having sexual congress, not actually sharing a bed night after night.” He tried to stoke Leonard’s cheek, but Leonard turned away.
“
Of course it means sharing a bed night after night. That’s what normal people do, you hot-blooded hob-goblin.”
“
Normal people where, My Leonard? On Vulcan, people of my social order keep separate sleeping quarters. Mates come together to procreate or to practice procreation and then return to their own beds.”
“
Your mom must have loved that.” McCoy grumbled.
“She adapted, but then so did my father and the household staff.” Spock said with a half smile. “Think on this, beloved. I am an only child. I did not share a sleep chamber when I lived on Vulcan. At the Academy I had a roommate, but we did not share a bed. On the Enterprise, T’hy’la, you were the only person whom I ever allowed, or even wanted, to sleep over.”
Len shrugged. “I’m honored, I guess.”
Spock elaborated. “In my Star Fleet career, I have only been aboard the Enterprise…”
“
Fifteen years…”
“
Fifteen years, six months and eleven days, from Ensign in the Science Lab to Commander and First Officer, I never, literally, slept with anyone but you.” The Vulcan offered two fingers to his fiancé. The Human reciprocated. Warmth, passion and the echoes of past loneliness passed along the link. “As a touch telepath, I must be careful whom I chose to share the moments when my shields are at their weakest.”
Hands weren’t enough, Leonard embraced his lover. “Darlin’, that’s about the sweetest thing you ever said to me.” They kissed deeply until they had to come up for air. Len continued. “I reckon we can make this work. After all, I recollect complaining that you kept your quarters hot enough to bake a cake…”
“
And you keep yours cool enough to store perishable food stuffs.”
“
On top of that, you spend nights on end, meditating and staring into a fire. Who lights a fire in an already sweltering room? And how did you get permission to light a fire aboard a starship?”
“
Now, you ask? Who keeps books and heavy (and I might add) unattractive book ends on the head of their bunk on a starship?”
“
The bookends were a gift from my mother.” Len huffed. “What about those red drapes?”
“
They were a gift from my mother when I was promoted to Lt. Commander. They provide both insulation and soundproofing.”
“
Living next door to Jim, you needed all the sound-proofing you could get. He‘s one busy boy.” McCoy laughed. “Speaking of busy….” McCoy’s mouth moved down Spock’s neck. Spock gasped and threw his head back. Len released the fastener on the blue jump suit and opened it down to the navel. He moved the collar away Spock’s nape began to bite and lick while his hand explored his mate’s chest.
Spock stroked Len’s soft brown hair. His hands would drift down to his partner’s neck and flit up to his psi-points. They had mutually agreed that they were wearing too many clothes when the door bell rang. They groaned in disappointment.
McCoy slapped this intercom button. “Yeah, who is it?”
“
Federated Movers, sir. We brought your furniture.” A man replied in a Georgian accent.
Spock caught Leonard’s eye. “A bed, beloved. They have brought a bed.”
A wicked grin split Len’s face. He spoke into the intercom. “We’ll be right down.”
FIN
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