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Where There's a Will
By Marcee Evans
Cold.
He was so cold.
He didn't know how long he had been unconscious or how long he had been stuck
in this leaky shuttle. His only awareness was that he was cold to the very
marrow of his bones.
He tried to open his eyes, but even that tiny movement seemed beyond him.
Sinking back inside himself, he tried to conjure up enough energy to take in
a deep breath. Through muffled hearing, he heard his lungs expand with a tight
inhale. As he slowly exhaled, he felt his whole body begin to shiver.
The air was so cold. It was so thin. The atmosphere was leaking out and with
it--his very essence.
~~No! Can't give up!~~
Kirk managed to open his eyes into narrow slits. It was all he could do to
keep them from closing again with fatigue from that tiny movement. As he focused
his eyes, he found himself gazing into the glazed stare of Ensign Michaels.
He sighed. The sound echoed in the small confines of the disabled
shuttle.
The kid had been called in to serve as his pilot when Lieutenant Chekov was
called away on assignment. The young ensign had died instantly when their
shuttle hit the gravitic mine. They had seen it coming, but they found no escape
as the mine zeroed in on them.
Perhaps a more seasoned pilot could have avoided the trap. But it was too
late for 'should of' or 'could of' at this point. Now their shuttle was dead in
space, just like its pilot. Kirk would soon join them.
He always knew he would die alone. Just not quite this way. He expected his
death would count for something--save lives, or save his ship. He expected his
death would make a difference. Not like this. Not so pointless and meaningless
as this.
He closed his eyes, conserving his energy for another attempt to move his
head.
"Come, come. This is not the James T. Kirk that I remember," a strong male
voice called out, breaking the silence.
Kirk opened his eyes wide.
"Who's there," he managed to croak out.
He was both alarmed and angered at how weak his voice sounded in his
ears.
There was no answer, just the occasional crackle and groan of metal as it
continued to cool its way down to absolute zero.
He couldn't find the strength to move his head, so he used his eyes to search
whatever portion of the shuttle was visible directly in front of him.
Nothing. Just a dead Ensign Michaels staring back at him.
He sighed, closing his eyes again.
~~Lack of oxygen. Hearing voices. Going mad.~~
"Hardly mad," the voice chuckled, "Although many said my father was."
Kirk took in a deep breath. "Who's there? Identify yourself," he hissed.
He felt something touch his shoulder. Kirk gasped. The touch was searing hot.
It started to burn. He didn't have the strength to pull away from the source of
the pain. The scorching heat blasted through his shoulder, up and down his
torso, through his extremities. It felt as through his entire body was engulfed
in white-hot flames.
Kirk screamed.
The fire died in an instant. His body felt lighter, stronger. Kirk opened his
eyes.
Staring straight into his eyes were orbs so big and blue that Kirk's first
thought was an image of the beautiful sky of Earth. He blinked and the orbs
pulled away, allowing him to see the face that went with the striking blue eyes.
The face was framed with ruffled locks that were the color of sand. The full
lips were set in a mysterious smile. The being's tall stature was in perfect
proportion to his strong limbs and slender torso. The stranger exuded great
beauty, grace, and strength. He was the image of a perfect being.
"Who--who are you?"
The stranger just grinned back.
Kirk sat up and looked at his surroundings for the first time. They were
sitting in a large field of ripened flax. The golden brown shoots arched in the
soft, warm breeze, causing the tiny seed sacks to rattle in harmony with the
chirping birds.
"What have you done? What is this place? Where have you taken me?"
"Come, Admiral. I thought you would recognize this place," the stranger said
with a knowing grin.
Kirk studied the landscape, the rolling hills, the small cluster of trees
amidst the patchwork of farmland.
"Iowa?"
"I thought this scene would put you at ease."
"Why here? What have you done with Ensign Michaels?"
"I found you too late to help Ethan Michaels. I'm sorry, Jim. He is with his
Creator now."
The stranger stood upright, then bent down to help Kirk up beside him.
Kirk found the other man towered above him by at least a head.
"Who are you?"
The stranger studied him and Kirk trembled. It was as if this being saw right
through him to the very core of his being. As if he intimately knew Kirk's every
thought. Every dream. Every desire.
"Who I am is not of great importance. You are safe here. Soon your friends
will find your shuttle. Then I will allow you to go home."
"But where is here," Kirk protested.
The stranger gazed out over the field of flax, then slowly nodded his head.
"This is my creation. It does not have a name. Do you like it?"
"You created this mirage," Kirk said, suddenly shaking his head as he began
to reason out loud to himself, seeing through the stranger's ruse. "You found me
on the shuttle, and out of sympathy or curiosity, you created this scene to keep
me company. I'm still on the shuttle and this is just a sad hallucination of a
dying man."
"How stubborn you can be, Jim. It was always this way between us."
"I do not know you. How could I possibly know you?"
The stranger bent down, gently cupping Kirk's face in the palms of his large
hands. The striking blue eyes studied Kirk and the admiral felt himself shiver
in spite of himself.
"Look deep inside, Jim. You will find that you do indeed know me."
Kirk looked closely at the being, then shook his head.
"Come, Jim. You stole my ship. You took away my command. At the time, I
wanted to kill you." He smiled, his eyes seeming to twinkle with mischief.
"Perhaps if I take on the appearance of my former self, you will remember
me."
Before Kirk could respond, the stranger's skin began to take on a golden
glow. The man took a step away from Kirk, then extended out his arms on both
sides of his body. He grinned back at Kirk, then turned around to face in the
opposite direction. A low hum, like a swarm of bumble bees, built and
intensified in the sunny meadow until it blocked out all other sound.
The stranger's body started to throw off a blinding light. The admiral turned
away from the being, closing his eyes and moving his forearms up to shield his
face.
When the deafening hum stopped, Kirk felt two strong hands grasp his wrists
and pull his arms away from his face. He looked up and gasped.
"W--Will? Will Decker?"
The other man smiled. The look on Will's face made Kirk suddenly think of a
moment from just two years earlier--during happier times.
"You remember, don't you," Will said. "The weekend you invited me to your
mother's farm in Iowa?"
Kirk nodded his head, still a little dazed at the image of the man standing
before him.
"You thought a big city kid like me could use a lesson in commanding a
combine during fall harvest. You said--"
"--Commanding a starship isn't all glamour and excitement. Sometimes it's
downright boring," Kirk continued, "So if you have the patience to drive a
straight line down the swath--and orchestrate the timing of the haulers to
offload the grain--maybe, just maybe you have what it takes to command a
starship."
Kirk chuckled.
Will grinned. "That was the weekend you told me you were going to accept a
promotion to the Admiralty." The man paused, then added, "That was also the
weekend I learned you suggested that I be the one to take your place as Captain
of the Enterprise."
"I remember."
"We talked about many things that weekend."
Kirk nodded his head, remembering the hot weather, the itch of the flax chaff
against his skin, and the wild look on the young Commander's face as the news of
his promotion finally sank in. Kirk also remembered how his heart lurched,
knowing that he was giving up his love--the Enterprise--and offering her to
another beau.
"However, nothing really prepared me for what was to come," Will continued,
"Or more precisely--what I would become."
Returning to the present, Kirk asked, "What should I call you? You are no
longer just Will Decker. Are you Will? Are you V'Ger?"
The other man nodded solemnly. "You are correct on both counts. I am the
Creator, and also the Creation. I am the sculptor, and the clay. I am the
composer, and the notes."
"It has been almost a year, Will. A whole new life form--you and V'Ger. Man
and machine, blended together. Can you tell me anything about where you have
been, what you have become?"
Will just grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I cannot tell you,
Jim, because it is beyond your understanding or frame of reference."
Kirk felt himself frown with disappointment. A new being, a whole new life
form. He was an explorer, and his mission was to seek out new life forms. He
felt the old rush of discovery mixed with frustration at the brush off.
Will seemed to recognize Kirk's frustration, and took him by the arm.
"Although it is impossible to explain all that I have become and what I have
experienced in my present form, I can relate to you on the level that we once
enjoyed--man to man."
Kirk shivered under Will's touch and, as he looked up into the other man's
eyes, he discerned a feeling he never expected. A feeling of being home--at
peace with himself and his universe.
"I never told you that weekend," Will continued, "Never explained what I was
really thinking."
Kirk looked back into Will's face. The other man seemed wise beyond his
years. But then, if this truly was Will Decker, he was no longer a mere mortal.
He had the knowledge of the entire universe stored inside of him--stored behind
those blue eyes. And now those deep blue eyes were looking down upon him with
love.
With the wave of Will's hand, a farmstead appeared in the meadow.
Kirk could hear his old golden lab, Duke, barking in the distance, and smell
the rich scent of his mother's strong coffee waiting for them out on the open
porch. Directly in front of them was the old barn. It had been blown down in a
wind storm shortly after Will's visit, but here it was, standing solid and real
once again.
He felt a cool breeze on his back, and suddenly realized his uniform jacket
and turtleneck were missing. Will stood next to him, shirtless as well, his
finely-sculpted muscles accentuated by the beads of sweat that had instantly
accumulated on his skin. Will looked much as he did that day on his mother's
farm--young, sexy, cock-sure of himself, and excited about what the future held
for him as the new Captain of the Enterprise.
"It was here, as we were stacking the hay, that you told me about my
father."
Kirk nodded his head as he watched Will grasp a huge bale and stack it on the
loader. He remembered the conversation, and the source of Will's pain.
"I was the one who said my father was crazy," the younger man continued,
shoving another bale into place a little harder than the first one.
Kirk grunted as he grasped a bale and hefted it next to the other bales on
the loader. "Matt Decker wasn't crazy, Will. Your father was a hero. He saved my
ship. He gave his life to save the entire galaxy from that planet killer."
Will's eyes shone brightly as he looked down at Kirk with love. "I know. You
were the only one who ever bothered to meet me face-to-face and tell me that.
You were the only one who told me the truth. Everyone else wanted to focus on my
father's failings, how he lost his entire crew."
"Matt Decker tried to save his crew. He sacrificed himself--just as you
sacrificed yourself to save everyone on the Enterprise, not to mention Earth, by
joining with V'Ger." Kirk swallowed the lump that was starting to form in his
throat. "The Federation is starting to design a brand new fleet of starships,
Will. They're calling them the 'Decker' class."
Will blinked a couple of times. "My father would have been proud to know
that, Jim."
Kirk nodded his head with a warm grin. It seemed so natural to talk to Will
like this, as if they really were back on the farm in Iowa. Just two friends
shooting the breeze as they completed their chores.
Soon, all of the hay bales were neatly stacked. Kirk was starting to think
about wandering over to the farmhouse to see whether the coffee on the porch was
for real. It sure smelled real enough.
As if sensing Kirk's thoughts, Will positioned his body in front of the barn
door, blocking the exit.
He looked down at the admiral, a devilish grin forming across his face.
"Do you remember the shower stall that was hidden in the corner of the
barn?"
Kirk chuckled. How could he have forgotten? He had maneuvered Will under the
spigot that day, knowing full well that the younger man was unaware of its
existence.
"I sure got a rise out of you when I turned on the cold water," Kirk said
with a small laugh.
"Come on," Will said, motioning with his hand.
The two men found the showerhead and stood under it expectantly. Will waved
his hand and warm water flowed down over their bodies in a soothing stream.
"When I pulled you in under the water with me, that's when I knew."
Kirk looked up into Will's bright blue eyes. He found his body shivering
again. What was it about this man that kept him so off balance, and loving every
minute of it? He could visualize what was coming, and he started to feel the
heat building in his groin with the thought of it.
Taking the bait, Kirk whispered, "Knew what?"
Will wrapped his hands around Kirk's waist and pulled him close. "That I
wanted you. That I wanted this between us."
The younger man bent his head down and captured Kirk's mouth in a long,
soul-searching kiss. The admiral kissed back, suddenly wishing that he had known
about this two years ago. Wishing for this now with all his soul.
Kirk broke the kiss, needing oxygen more than his partner--who, of course,
was unencumbered by the physical needs of a mere mortal. He felt a cool breeze,
and then Will's hand moved down to touch his erection. Looking down, Kirk
realized his uniform slacks were missing. So were his briefs. He and Will were
totally naked.
Will was down on his knees before Kirk could respond to their sudden
nakedness. The younger man brushed his lips down the admiral's stomach, then
buried his face in the golden curls below.
Kirk gasped as he felt a warm hand gently cup his scrotum, massaging the firm
sacs with strong, agile fingertips. He brushed his fingers through Will's
sandy-blonde hair, twisting the curls in his fingertips, moaning as he felt
Will's tongue slowly slide from the base of his cock to the weeping head.
"Oh--god! Will!"
The younger man looked up, his eyes fogged with passion. "I wanted you like
this, Jim. I thought of nothing that day but to get you back in the shower and
do this to you."
With that, Will turned back to Kirk's erection, taking the head between his
lips. He layered the head with saliva, running his tongue over the weeping slit,
sucking until Kirk thought for sure he would come right there.
Seeming to sense this, Will paused, letting the head slip from his mouth and
moving his lips back to the base of Kirk's erection. He angled his head
underneath the shaft and took a sac in his mouth and sucked gently.
Kirk's groans turned into a low growl as Will continued to suck him. He
couldn't stand it. He was so hot. He was certain he was going to come right
there, even without any direct stimulation to his cock. He tried to thrust his
hips forward, but Will's hands held him tight.
Will's lips released him, then the young man looked up again.
"Patience, Jim. Your ship is still a long ways off. We have time to enjoy
this."
"Please--"
Will chuckled to himself. "Just imagine if you were this agreeable when you
decided to take away my ship!" With an impish grin, he winked at Kirk, then
worked his lips back up to the admiral's erection.
The other man caressed the side of the shaft with his cheek, then devoured
Kirk in one long, smooth thrust. Grasping the admiral's hips in his strong
hands, Will jerked his head forward and backward, taking in the entire shaft
with each bold thrust.
Kirk gripped Will's shoulders to balance himself against the onslaught. He
could feel his muscles constrict, feeling the climax coming in a rush. Will
didn't stop him, but kept up a steady, hard rhythm. Just as he thought he was
about to pass out, Kirk felt his body let go in an overpowering,
earth-shattering, all-consuming release.
Will milked wave after wave from Kirk until the admiral's body shuddered to
final completion.
He felt Will let the cock slip from his mouth. Letting out a hoarse cry, Kirk
felt his legs let go from beneath him. Darkness rushed to overtake him, and he
fell like a child into his lover's strong embrace.
When he finally awakened, Kirk found himself lying on his back in the flax
field, completely naked. Stalks of the golden brown grain were woven beneath him
into some kind of soft, sweet-smelling bed. He could feel the sun beating down
on his skin, the warmth healing him, renewing his strength.
A shadow fell across his torso, cooling him in an instant. He looked up to
find Will's deep blue eyes staring down at him. The younger man leaned over, a
loving smile on his face.
Without a word, Will covered Kirk with his body. They kissed. Rubbed against
each other. Touched and caressed. Searched out those places that brought
pleasure to the other. No words passed between them, only the soft moans and
grunts of lovers. As they kissed, deeper and deeper, Will seemed to sense the
extent of his partner's ability to hold his breath and ended each kiss before
Kirk began to pass out.
Lying flat on his back, still a little light-headed from the heavy kissing,
Kirk felt his legs being parted. Strong hands caressed the insides of his thighs
and he sighed, feeling his cock coming to life again. Will's hands excited him
like no other, and soon he would be ready for more.
The younger man ignored Kirk's erection this time, massaging the back of the
thighs instead. Kirk closed his eyes, enjoying the skilled hands of his lover.
However, when he felt Will lift his legs and hook each over a broad shoulder,
Kirk opened his eyes wide with a startled gasp.
Looking up, he found the younger man grinning down at him.
Kirk smiled, nodding his head. It had been a long time since he'd allowed
himself to be taken. Always the seducer, he was usually the one who took
command. But this time, it was fun to let go and let another seduce him into
submission.
A bowl suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and Will dipped his hand inside. A
strong scent hit Kirk's senses.
~~Flaxseed oil?~~
As he was contemplating the new set of scents, he felt a fingertip tickle at
the entrance to his body. He thrust his hips back, teasing his lover. The finger
advanced again, this time toying with the puckered entrance, circling it with
the heated oil. This time, Kirk thrust his hips forward, impaling the finger
inside him to the first knuckle.
"Impatient as ever, Jim?"
He heard Will chuckle to himself. Then Kirk gasped with delight as the finger
dipped inside even deeper. The digit probed, advancing with each wiggle, until
it brushed against his prostate.
Kirk thrust his hips back with a loud, passionate moan.
"That's it. This time I'm in command. I'm going to take you, Jim. I'm going
to take you hard."
"Yes. Take me."
Kirk felt another finger enter the tight orifice. The fingers stretched him,
testing the tight ring until another finger was inserted. By this time, he was
beyond caring about finesse. Kirk wanted to be fucked, and he wanted to be
fucked hard RIGHT NOW.
There was a slight pause as Will spread the oil over his own erection. Then
Kirk felt his buttocks spread apart and the head of Will's cock pressed against
his opening.
"Say the word, Jim."
"Fuck--me."
"Close enough."
With that, Kirk felt his entire being filled to the brink with Will's
essence. The two lovers pounded against each other--fighting, clawing, and
struggling to bring each other to the pinnacle. Letting go, cooling down, and
then building up again until finally, they both tipped over the edge to
completion.
Sated, shivering, unable to move, Kirk heard Will's voice whisper in his ear,
"You could have this with another--but you are holding yourself back. He is very
close to you, just within arm's length, if only you would open your eyes and
look."
Before Kirk could consider the words any further, he lapsed into an
exhausted, satisfied, deep sleep.
* * * *
"Are you picking up any life signs, Mr. Chekov?"
The young Russian looked up from the scanner at the science station and shook
his head in great despair. "None, Mr. Spock. I'm finding no life sign readings
aboard the shuttle. All systems are dead, including life support. The shuttle
has lost eighty-five percent of its atmosphere."
"My god, Spock! What happened?"
The Vulcan turned to the doctor. "From initial scans, it appears the Galileo
was struck by a gravitic mine." He turned to the helmsman. "Bring us alongside,
Mr. Sulu." Spock then punched a button on the arm of the captain's chair. "Mr.
Scott, prepare to bring the shuttle into Landing Bay Four by tractor beam. Stand
by medical team."
"I'm on my way down," McCoy said sharply.
"I am coming with you to Landing Bay Four, doctor." Spock stood.
"Suit yourself. I don't know what the hell you think we'll find. A lot of
help we'll be able to do, with no life signs. Admit it. We're too late to save
Jim and Ensign Michaels."
Spock looked at McCoy. With an unusually soft voice, he said, "Remember,
there are always possibilities."
The Vulcan looked over to the Science station. "Mr. Chekov, your assistance,
please. Mr. Sulu, you have the conn."
The three men rushed into the lift, each steeling himself to witness the
final fate of Admiral James T. Kirk and Ensign Ethan Michaels.
Down in the landing bay, the three men stood silent, peering through the
thick glass window. Scotty trundled the hangar doors open and maneuvered the
disabled shuttle into the bay.
Once atmosphere was restored, the protective door was opened and Spock,
McCoy, and Chekov entered the bay, followed by a team of medical assistants.
The shuttle was still freezing cold to the touch when Chekov reached it
first. He used a glove to pry the hatch open. Spock pulled the heavy door
outward and peered inside. The Vulcan entered the darkened cabin, followed by
Chekov and McCoy.
They came upon Ensign Michaels first. The young man was stone dead, lying on
his side on the floor.
McCoy knelt over the dead man.
"Looks like he died instantly of burns sustained from the explosion." McCoy
shook his head. "Damn. He was just a kid."
Chekov stood over McCoy and the dead ensign. "I was suppose to pilot this
shuttle. It should have been me who piloted the Admiral's shuttle to the
conference, not Ethan."
McCoy got to his feet. Placing a fatherly hand on the young lieutenant's
shoulder, the doctor murmured, "It's not your fault, Pavel."
"But--but maybe I could have prevented this from happening. I have experience
piloting through mine fields. Ethan did not."
Spock searched the rest of the shuttle.
"I cannot locate Admiral Kirk."
"What?" McCoy whirled, looking around the cockpit. "He's not here. Not in the
cockpit."
Spock rushed to the back of the shuttle, Chekov and McCoy right on his
heels.
* * * *
Kirk awoke to find himself fully dressed, reclining in a darkened room. He
could tell he was back indoors. Gone were the sounds and smells of the flax
field. Gone were Will Decker's strong, capable hands.
He shivered, thinking about his lover. It seemed like a dream. Did he imagine
it? Was it just a wild hallucination of a dying man?
He took in a deep, satisfying breath. The air felt warm. He took in another
deep breath, enjoying the rich oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere of the shuttle.
He let out a low moan as his body remembered Will's touch on his skin. He
felt a part of his anatomy start to respond as he remembered what a good fuck
Will Decker gave him. Even if it wasn't real, it sure was a daydream that he'd
remember for a long, long time.
It was just then that the door to the darkened room opened and three figures
burst inside.
"Lights," a deep voice called out, and a pair of flashlights illuminated
Kirk's bunk.
"Admiral? How can this be? There were no life signs!"
Kirk recognized it as Chekov's voice.
"My god, Jim. You're alive!"
That was McCoy's voice.
Kirk pulled a blanket over his torso, suddenly aware that his body was still
recalling the time he spent with his ethereal lover.
"Bones? Chekov?"
He heard a scanner hum over his head, a tricorder snap on.
"Jim. Are you injured?"
Kirk looked up. That was Spock's voice. He thought for a moment, still a
little dazed, feeling like he had just awakened from a vivid dream.
"I'm fine. Just give me a moment, okay?"
He felt a hand on his arm, helping him to sit up. The lights were angled up
towards the ceiling, illuminating the small cabin with a warm glow.
Kirk blinked his eyes, then looked up at his friends. He had never seen a
more wonderful sight.
It was Chekov who helped him sit up straight on the bunk, while McCoy
rechecked his medical scanner.
"You seem okay, Jim."
"I don't understand it," Chekov said, his voice a mixture of dazed elation
and confusion. "The scanners said there were no life forms aboard this shuttle.
We thought you were both dead."
"Indeed, Jim," Spock intoned as he knelt next to Kirk's bunk, the Vulcan's
calming eyes studying him intently. "The shuttle sustained severe damage. We
registered it had lost eighty-five percent of its atmosphere. Yet you apparently
survived unscathed while Ensign Michaels is dead."
Kirk looked at the three of them. How could he explain this to them?
"Ensign Michaels," he said sadly. "He died trying to save the shuttle from
that mine. And I was about to die with him, until someone came to save my
life."
"Who," McCoy asked. "Who saved your life?"
Kirk grinned, looking each man squarely in the eyes. He suddenly realized
that they probably thought he was daft, acting the way he was. But he didn't
care. He was alive, and life was too good to waste.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Bones."
Kirk watched the doctor cross his arms over his chest defiantly.
"Well, try me!"
Before he could reply to McCoy's outburst, he heard Chekov ask, "Sir? What's
this in your hair?"
He felt gentle fingers pluck out something from his hair. Then the Russian
held a small, thin object out in front of him, his dark eyes studying it
intently.
"What do you have there, Mr. Chekov," Spock asked.
"It--it looks like a stalk of flax," the Russian stated.
Kirk felt all three pair of eyes studying him with great confusion.
"I guess I have some explaining to do," the admiral exclaimed to the curious
faces before him.
Suddenly, he felt like laughing. Everything seemed to make sense to him. It
was as if the mist had parted, and he saw things clearly for the first time. He
felt warmed to the core, recalling the last words that Will said to him just as
he drifted asleep.
His soul mate was close by. He didn't need to close himself off to love any
longer. He could find it in someone close to him. Someone close. Someone just an
arm's length away.
Kirk's eyes fell upon one of the men before him. The eyes belonged to the one
he had loved for years, but had kept at arm's length for far too long.
With a happy grin, Kirk reached out both hands and grasped the man's arms. He
didn't care who knew. He loved this man more than life itself. It took nearly
losing his life to realize that.
Kirk could see recognition forming in the eyes of his beloved, an
understanding of what was forming between them. He saw the other man gazing back
with love, revealing his own desire for the first time.
With a wistful smile, Kirk looked at his three friends. "Gentlemen, have I
ever invited you to my family's farm in Iowa?"
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