bakerstreet | Trapped

Trapped

If you feel trapped, you are in an unpleasant situation in which you lack freedom, and you feel you cannot escape from it.

1. Somewhere Boring: You were grounded to your room/home, you’re stuck at work or school, you’re sick in the hospital, stuck in a nursing home, or you’re trapped with the family for a vacation/reunion/holiday.
2. Somewhere on the Side of the Road: Car broke down, could be on a busy interstate, or maybe an empty dark rural road.
3. Somewhere In Plain Sight: Your entrapment is more metaphorical- you’re trapped in secrecy about something.
4. Somewhere Embarrassing: You’re naked, you peed/crapped your pants, you called a teacher/boss ‘mom’, you ripped your pants, someone found out about your weird kink/your porn/your nudes, someone stole your clothes while you were in the shower, you’re short on the bill, you’re forced to give a presentation you’re not prepared for.
5. Somewhere Closed: For whatever reason, you’ve found yourself stuck inside an amusement park, a mall, a store, a restaurant, a museum, or an office building after hours.
6. Somewhere Imaginary: It’s all just a dream, well, a nightmare. Maybe it’s that kind where you think you’re awake, but you’re not. Or even a Freddy Krueger type scenario. Maybe it’s a living nightmare, like The Truman Show, and you’re beginning to realize it’s all an illusion?
7. Somewhere Familiar: You’re at home in your house/apartment/dorm/RV, but you don’t feel like you’re alone. Were those eyes in the window? Did the closet door just move?
8. Somewhere Spooky: Why did you think going to a ghost town, a haunted house, an abandoned building, the old asylum, the decrepit amusement park, or the old battlefield was a good idea? Especially at night.
9. Somewhere, in a Literal Trap: Back of a cop car, handcuffed, prison, a bear trap, a snake pit, or some crazy serial killer’s murder house – you’re trapped.
10. Somewhere Tight: You’re stuck in the trunk of a car, a changing room, a cave, an elevator, a shower, the dreaded outhouse, or worst of all – you’ve been buried alive!
11. Somewhere in Transit: You’re stuck on a broken down bus/subway/train or trapped on a very long flight. Or maybe there’s something wrong with your passport and you’re stuck in the airport, or you find yourself stuck in a foreign country.
12. Somewhere Remote: Seriously, vacations are supposed to be fun, but now you’ve found yourself lost in the frozen tundra of Siberia, a forest or a jungle, the Sahara desert, under the sea in a submarine/sinking ship/underwater cavern, a mountain range, on an empty boat in the middle of the ocean, somewhere in outer space, or the classic deserted island.
13. Somewhere Bizarre: A place that is usually highly trafficked no matter the time or the day, is now eerily completely empty. Hotels, 24/7 stores, Times Square – for whatever reason, it’s empty – or is it…
14. Somewhere Dangerous: All of the places your mother told you that you should never be. A government-level restricted area you definitely don’t have access to, a stranger’s van, a lockdown/active shooter situation, a quarantined area, the dark empty alley/parking garage, in the path of a natural disaster, or even a full on active war zone.
15. Somewhere... Else: You’ve found yourself stuck in some other time period, or an entirely alternate universe from your own.
16. Mix & Match!

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[He can be the rescuer or the one being rescued. If he's the one being rescued, there is the action option of busting him out of a literal trap/hostage....or there is also the drama option of his PTSD likes to trap him in his own hell. You know, as a treat.]

[Up for any and all of these! Dex can be helping your character out or they can be the one rescuing him from whatever kind of peril he's in.]

I'll be back before you know it.

The last message Spock had received on his communicator from Jim, dated from the night before. Jim's been talking about this diplomatic mission for a month now. How the Potestian people have refused every attempt at contact for well over a generation but have finally reached out to accept a tentative First Contact under the strict promise that nothing would be demanded of them politically for such a meeting. Jim has been digging up every file Federation history has recorded for the species, their system, studies. It's diplomatic missions like this where the Captain honestly shines.

Proves just why Starfleet wants to put him in front of as many faces as possible.

The man's infectious charisma and earnest belief in the work he does sways mind and heart alike. And his looks are aesthetically pleasing even among most nonhumans. It's the ideal package, cleaned and neatly pressed. Ready to escort the diplomats they'd picked up from Starbase Ios III the week before. The guests are the largest reason why Spock and Jim have been forced to keep their contact long distance in the last few weeks. But the mission was supposed to be over last night.

Jim was supposed to be back, resting up, and then contacting Spock.

Only.

It's been fifteen hours, thirty-seven minutes and sixteen seconds and counting.

And there's been no word from one Captain James T. Kirk.

Not a trace.

Edited 2024-12-28 22:07 (UTC)

Spock waits a reasonable amount of time for Jim to contact him after his diplomatic mission. The schedule sits fresh in his mind's eye and he even grants extra time in case Jim has found himself overly tired.

He waits fifteen hours, forty-two minutes, and nineteen seconds before he contacts his alternate version to inquire after a message to Jim himself gets no response for several hours.

He does not, as it happens, like the response he gets.

The travel between their homes is still strange but much easier since the two Montgomery Scotts put their minds to work in tandem to account for it.

It does not take long for Spock to arrive on the sister to his own Enterprise, and Spock is waiting for him. He gets as much information as they have, which is both not enough and so appalling that he has to take a moment to center himself before the conversation may continue. Spock understands his emotions in this moment.

With that said, it is Spock who leads a small away team while Spock maintains his position as XO of the bridge. They have an understanding, as always, bridging their differences and combining their similarities for a mutual goal. There is a benefit to being able to be in two places at once, after all.

It is Spock, then, who meets with the mysterious diplomat who is claiming that Jim Kirk would like to stay with them indefinitely as the mate of their leader.

Spock's head tilts and his eyebrow raises. This does not sound like Jim Kirk at all. Of this he is fully aware.

"Fascinating." A dry statement as he pins the man before him with his gaze. "As Jim Kirk's current partner, he may inform me directly of this decision. I request you bring him out to me to do so. Should this not occur, I will be forced to inform Starfleet Command that the captain of their flagship is being held against his will after a scheduled diplomatic meeting."

He is not, as one might say, fucking around.

"All six diplomats have been accounted for and have been interviewed." Spock had said while the pair of them settled into a briefing room to go over everything that was known up to this point. "Each gave a standard account of Federation First contact dinner events, typical when the host species is wary of our intentions and wishes for us to extend an offer of goodwill first."

Spock has been handed every record they have on file. Every piece of communication they received beforehand. "Dr. McCoy has personally overseen the menu that was planned and authorized to ensure nothing would affect either the captain or our host's constitutions to the best of our knowledge in the latter case."

Every member of their party in fact had returned save for two. The captain, and the daughter of one of the diplomats who had likewise expressed an intention to stay. Spock levels a Look across the briefing room table. Convenient, is it not?

Through careful omission of detail Spock is thus allowed down to meet with the Potestian linguist who has been acting as their liaison throughout the affair. The man is small under Spock's stare, but ingratiating and polite to a fault.

"Your captain is enjoying a walk through the gardens with our Matriarch at present." The man says, wringing his hands as if to apologize. "But you may wait here and he will be brought as soon as they return?"

Spock stands before the liason at attention, expression flat and unmoved. His hands are clasped behind his back, a purposefully formal parade rest, and when he speaks his tone is flat and brokers no argument or even suggestion.

"I will wait."

And he does. He waits and he waits and he waits. It feels like hours but in reality is less than one; Spock counts the seconds as they pass. Fifty-three minutes and twenty-five seconds pass before Jim is finally brought out before him after his stroll with the Matriarch.

"Jim."

He gives Jim a once-over, looking for hidden injuries or tells in his posture or expression, then speaks again.

"I have been informed that you intend to sever our romantic relationship and remain here so that you may marry a woman you met one day ago, also giving up your career, crew, and love of exploration. Is this indeed the case?"

He does not believe their claims for a second.

Three times the liaison tries to engage Spock in meaningless small talk, though the Vulcan's impassionate and curt replies offer little in the way of any useful information. At one point while he waits he may spot the only other human here chatting up one of the spindly and near-delicate looking Potestians. The diplomat's daughter seems to be in high spirits, energetic and of a typical nature where human young adults are concerned.

If only the same could be said of Captain Kirk.

He has been divested of his sleek grey Starfleet dress uniform and clad instead in the lush wine-red silks the Potestians favor. They drape handsomely over his limbs where he and the taller Potestian Matriarch approach after Spock's patient waiting. Where the diplomat's daughter seemed talkative and expressive, Jim looks placid with none of the usual fire in his blue eyes.

"James. You did not tell me you had previously kept a relationship." The Matriarch's trill voice thrums and only when she speaks does Jim seem to have heard any of the conversation at all. "Will you introduce us?"

"Of course, Lady Cestina. Beloved, this is..." A sweeping gesture between both parties, but Jim hesitates when his gaze falls onto Spock's face. He blinks rapidly once, twice. Then a hand at his shoulder smoothes the furrow of his brow before it could barely form. "...Commander Spock, one of Vulcan's finest. Spock, please meet my..." A hitch of breath. "My beloved Lady."

Spock observes the Matriarch herself with a sense of cool disinterest, though a judgmental eyebrow raises when she has the audacity to call Jim James.

"I will note that the relationship is not previous as it is current."

Every word Jim proceeds to say sticks like glue in Spock's head but not because he believes them to be true. To think a race of telepaths would not recognize signs of mental manipulation is foolish. Even not knowing about Spock, they certainly knew about Spock, who was and is on the Enterprise's roster.

Spock catalogs every tell Jim has, every split-second where he is clearly discomfited and attempting to return to his sense of self. With each passing moment the dark, hot rage rises higher and higher in him; his chin tilts up defiantly and if Jim were in his full faculties, he may have been able to warn the Matriarch that Spock's tone when he speaks to her is the tail of a rattlesnake threatening to strike.

"Lady Cestina." Polite, at least seemingly so. "Might I ask what you know of Vulcans? It is relevant to the matter at hand and I have no desire to see you into a situation which you do not understand."

His hands clench more tightly behind his back as he speaks, but his voice remains even and flat. Calm, one might even claim.

"Perhaps Jim, as you no doubt know he desires to be called, has told you the manner in which a potential mate is taken from another in my culture. This discussion, of course, I must only assume occurred during your involved courtship conversations."

Edited 2024-12-29 02:40 (UTC)

"James, is this so?" The Potestian steeples her spindly fingers while turning a downcast glance aside at the human she claims to have dedicated himself to her. His brow twitches every time she uses his full first name.

"I..." Why can't he speak right? The words are there on the tip of his tongue but his mouth refuses to move. "I had not had the time to....t-to inform Spock of my decision." He seems confused, for a moment or two before being soothed once more. The matriarch nods in apparent approval, though after a long moment glances over to Spock again.

"Only what was. Given? Delivered? To us in your Federation's dossiers. We have heard of the misfortunes of Vulcan. A tragedy, to be sure. We are surprised you would deign to leave what is left of your people."

A fine muscle in the line of Spock's jaw twitches at the mention of the tragedy of Vulcan in her condescending way. He is aware of it by now, of course. He is not shocked out of his measures acting as the Spock of this universe. It is still a slap in the face to have it be used as a means to attempt to convince him to leave Jim behind.

"The Vulcan people value the diversity of other species," Spock notes, "and this continues now despite the destruction of our home. I assure you that New Vulcan will flourish without me. Vulcans mating with Terran species is not unheard of, for that matter. I am of mixed Vulcan-Human parentage myself. However, an assessment of my presumed duty to my people was not the intent of my query. I mean to inquire after your knowledge of Kal-if-fee, as it most certainly applies here. Unless you presume to part a bonded couple without consequence?"

Behind him, the other two of Spock's small team stiffen in place even without knowing the term Spock is speaking of. A Vulcan speaking of weighted consequence is shocking enough, but for it to be Spock is more so.

And if Spock is taking mild liberties with the rules via omission, no one here who would intervene knows that.

Edited 2024-12-29 03:38 (UTC)

"I presume nothing. The decision is the captain's to make, not yours. If you were a sufficient mate, he would not have agreed to stay here with us." The trill of the Matriarch's voice gains a warning edge to it. She gestures for the liaison for something or another and the man is off like a shot to do as he is bidden.

"James will be the cement uniting your Federation with my people. You should be honored for him. He certainly is." With a soft click of her tongue, she turns as if to leave Spock there with the other officers. "If you intend to make a scene, I will have to ask you to leave during the bonding ceremony."

Jim hasn't said a word in his defense this whole time. He sways a little where he stands once, but though he opens his mouth to speak nothing comes out. Inevitably, his gaze follows Cestina's movements. He lingers when she makes to leave and only moves at the sharp look she throws over her shoulder at him.

"You are mistaken on many things. As his mate, it is my right to invoke Kal-if-fee should someone attempt to wrest him from my side as even if he claims willingness the bond must be broken. Secondarily, the Federation has no desire to forge ties with a society based on coercion and the misuse of telepathic abilities such as you have displayed."

As he speaks he walks next to her, hands clasped behind his back and nails digging into his palms so hard that he can feel blood welling up in the divots. He has also purposely moved between her and Jim, uncomfortably close.

"And finally, my Lady," he says, tone once again dry, "you have not yet begun to witness me making a scene."

One hand drops and his fingers curl around Jim's wrist. Pointed, possessive. He cannot fully cleanse Jim's mind like this, but he can urge soothing warmth through the touch despite his own agitation.

"However," he finally adds, "should you respect the rituals of my culture, participate in my challenge, and beat me, I will be forced to stand down and allow your bonding to proceed. Then and only then will your society be able to join the Federation's protective embrace."

"Your right? You dare make such accusations while acting as if the dear captain is your property?" Sneered out in clear disdain. The Vulcan has proven he is wise to her peoples' game, but they are no less barbaric. "I was not aware the Federation welcomed such brutish behavior."

Behind Spock the other officers are getting increasingly nervous as the temperature in the archway plummets for the icy stares and sharp words being dished out between both parties. And yet Jim seems more or less unmoved. It is the most glaring sign that something is not right.

The Potestian Martriarch hisses a warning when Spock takes hold of the captain's wrist. Especially because Jim's fingers shift habitually to accommodate Spock as they always would even if it is not how he is grabbed here.

"I have no desire to play games Commander. James, do talk some sense into your former colleague."

"Of...of course."

"You misunderstand, or perhaps I have misspoken. It is not from petty desire or emotional disturbance. It is biological imperative. Despite the pacifist nature of Vulcans, at times our biology is counterintuitive to that."

For as much as Spock would find, to put it into a Terran colloquialism, beat the everloving shit out of the woman manipulating Jim, satisfying, he was well aware from the beginning that a species whose biology clearly relies only on mental fortitude and not physical—too-tall, thin to the point of gangliness—would never accept a call for physical combat. That Spock has conveniently only implied things and has not spoken of the choosing of champions (though Jim would normally be the one choosing in this scenario) is by design. He would normally not have so much preamble nor so much patience.

"Ah."

So soon as she tells Jim to speak to Spock, she has stepped into the choice Spock requires of her. Despite the hot rage boiling under his skin, he is still coherent enough and present enough to do it in this way. Were he anyone else, he might have smiled or shown a measure of the smug superiority he allows himself to briefly feel.

"Acceptable. Please, Jim, let us discuss your decision. Perhaps we can avoid further issue."

As he speaks, his hand turns slightly to curl his first two fingers around Jim's.

Spock does not need to touch the Potestians to know they fear him. Their reactions are those of a scavenger startled by a predator in their midst. Too hungry not to keep eating, but ready and willing to scatter at the first real sign of danger. And Spock's partner happens to be the meal they're all growling over.

Cestina has kept her guards close to hand should the Vulcan actually try for real violence, but their only recourse to stopping him would be with weapons as none of even her finest guards could face the martial prowess of a Vulcan with any measure of security training. And of course this one has plenty. She does not wish to lose her chosen mate. He would be a fine addition to their hive. A sparkling prince polished and set to be admired alongside his cohorts.

But if it is between everything she has built here, and one mere conquest?

It's her words spilling with serene cadence from Jim's mouth. Telling Spock what she told him to say. The words don't matter. What matters is the fluctuation of Jim's pulse when Spock curls fingers around him. The way his eyes widen a little when he seems to realize who he's talking to in fits and bursts.

There is a flicker of the brilliant mind behind the cotton swaddling of urging for him to rest. To be quiet and calm and still and let another's will wash over him. Jim is confused. He keeps trying to talk but the words don't come out right. He's more tired than he can ever remember being and time keeps slipping away from him.

But Spock is here. His hand curled around Jim's, so it must be okay.

They're okay, right?

Jason Todd | DC Comics | OTA

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@ sensors 1 leading into 14

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Delia Battista ⭐Star Trek OC ⭐OTA, 18+ for any shipping/smut

nei takarai ♡ gokurakugai

tseng (final fantasy vii)

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