Entering Orbit (Kirk/Spock AOS)

Part Five

"We'll miss you when you head back out into space, my friend," Lew said, clapping Jim on the shoulder. The happy hour crowd had left, and the regulars had come for their nightcaps. The bar was crowded but not overly so, and it felt good to relax. Jim scored his favorite bar stool and gave it to Spock. He stood beside him until another one opened up to Spock's left.

"This one worked earlier today, but it's good to see his face in here again," Lew said to Spock. "Used to come in here all the time before he enlisted. Worked here a couple summers too. Business has picked up now that the rumor's out he's back in town. First round's on me. Even top shelf, you and your friend here."

"I'll take a beer," Jim said. "Give me that new thing we got in earlier today, and Spock will take..." He looked at Spock expectantly. Lew placed a pint of dark beer in front of Jim and a napkin in front of Spock.

"I do not know," Spock answered. "You are more familiar with recreational alcohol consumption than I. Please select for me."

"Okay." Jim chewed on his lip. "I don't think you're a beer type. What about something sweet?"

"I—"

"Nah," Jim continued, cutting him off, "you didn't like that ice cream I brought home last week." He perused the colorful selection of labels before him on the dimly lighted shelf and tapped his chin. "You'd probably like something made with fruit juice okay, but...hey—" He turned his attention to Lew. "Is any of my galaxy-famous spicy mix still made up from this morning?"

"Do you really think I'd let us run out of our secret weapon? I made up a new batch a couple hours ago. Do you know how many of those I'll sell tomorrow morning?"

Jim grinned widely. "He'll take one, not too spicy — he's new at this. And give him extra celery."

"You picked a pro to train with," Lew said to Spock as he picked up a pint glass and filled it with ice, then tomato juice and vodka, and transferred it to a shaker.

"Train?" Spock asked, raising an eyebrow at Jim quizzically.

"He means I'm an accomplished alcoholic, and you're obviously not. Which makes you my protege."

Lew set the full glass in front of Spock with enough force it sloshed a little over the sides. Spock regarded the dark red contents and stalks of celery that bloomed from it. "What is it?" he asked.

"A bloody mary," Jim defined. "It's tomato juice, horseradish, pepper, a little celery salt, hot sauce, Worcestershire, and vodka. Not too different from a couple of those cold soups you like, well, except for the vodka, but you shouldn't really taste it. Tell me what you think."

"May I have a straw?"

"He's Vulcan," Jim clarified when Lew opened his mouth to protest, leaning over the bar. "A cold glass plus desert-bred fingers — not a smart combination." He fished a straw from the holder and removed the paper wrapper, sliding it into Spock's drink.

"You're the one from the news," Lew exclaimed, looking at Spock intently. "I didn't recognize you. That's two celebs in the house tonight, and two rounds on me." He deposited two shot glasses, rim side down, in front of them. "Just let me know when you're ready for another," he said and moved down the bar to a signaling patron.

"He is fond of you," Spock observed, forming his lips around the straw and sucking. Jim took a long drink from his beer — it was dark and bitter, a chocolate stout, and left a creamy foam on his upper lip that he wiped on his sleeve — and never removed his eyes from the sight of Spock's pursed mouth.

"Good?" he asked after Spock swallowed. Spock was a moment before replying.

"I find it oddly satisfying," he remarked. "You are correct. It is not unlike the gazpacho I prepared for you."