But they still scared him.
So far nobody had noticed that Jim Kirk was always the first one indoors when a cumulonimbus started acting up overhead. No on had commented on his rapid disappearances when the first flash of lightning came. The worst times were always if a storm began when he was in class, but luckily it hadn't happened more than twice with any single instructor. When he'd raised his hand and asked to be excused for an appointment no one had questioned little mister perfect, just nodded and let him go.
He normally spent thunderstorm times in the middle of the floor of his room. It had been hard in the first two years, when he'd had to share a dorm with others. Now it was simple. He sat on the little carpet and alternately hugged his knees or covered his eyes and ears. Fear, of ridicule and of the loss of his upward momentum, would not let him seek help, nor would it let him move once it attacked him. He wished, sometimes, that his worst fear would come to pass and he would just be struck by lightning so that all this stupidity would be over.
Nothing else scared him. Well, Gary scared him sometimes, with his ridiculous stunts and his seeming disregard for safety, but that was just Gary. Jim could drive an air car faster and harder than anyone, could keep his nerve in the worst war games the Academy threw his way, and face his instructors after unorthodox behaviour without a tremor in his voice or an apology for appeasement. But let the heavens open, and he turned into jelly.
He ached to go into space, to finally be free of this damned traitorous phobia. There was no lightning or thunder in outer space! It hadn't appeared on his psych reports, yet, for which he was grateful. Maybe only because he had schooled himself to forget thunderstorms existed, when they weren't actually happening.
Like now.
Stuck in this damned little cabin on the beach in a wet bathing suit. He'd been enjoying his swim too much to notice the build-up of the clouds, and the first crack of thunder had almost made him drown, he'd panicked so completely. He had raced for shore and thrown himself into the cabin, hardly noticing the spider webs and dust and old nets that surrounded him. Huddled in the middle of the floor he was alternately despairing of his life, and furious at his cowardice.
"God damn it, Jim, pull yourself together. It's just a storm."
"It is an extremely violent and unpleasant storm," came a voice, and Jim almost jumped clean out of his skin. He turned to see another young man standing behind him in the shadows. "I'm sorry, I did not intend to add to your distress by alarming you further. Is there any way I can assist you?"
The man came out of the shadows, and Jim saw the pointed ears and the elegant bearing. With the blue uniform tunic and lieutenant's rank braid, he knew at once who this was. "You're Spock, aren't you? I've heard about you," he said, trying to be casual. "First Vulcan in the Fleet."
"I am Spock, yes. And you are Jim Kirk."
Another flash came and Jim winced into himself, then looked back up at the Vulcan and smiled weakly. "Never liked thunderstorms. How do you know my name?"
"I am on temporary assignment to the Academy, in the capacity of programmer. I had to orchestrate the repair of the main simulator last Wednesday, after your rather unconventional third attempt at defeating the Kobiyashi Maru scenario."
That actually made Kirk smile broadly. "Sorry about that, Lieutenant Spock."
"Why? It was a logical means of defeating an unfair exam. I admit to some admiration for your technique. Having the Klingons assist in the rescue was, perhaps, a touch idealistic. However, you may appreciate knowing that Commodore Marshal was laughing over the Klingon Commander's reference to you as 'the greatest commander the Federation has ever known'."
Kirk was laughing aloud himself now. "Thanks for telling me. I'm glad to have met you. Pull up a piece of floor and keep me company? These things really..." he flinched again as the next peal of thunder sounded "...unnerve me."
The Vulcan folded himself down a couple of feet away. "I do not appreciate storms. We do not have storms such as this on Vulcan due to the low humidity. I dislike being wet, and so I took shelter here. This storm was *not* forecast for this afternoon."
He sounded outraged. Kirk nodded. "No way I would have planned a swim if it had been. I keep hoping I'll grow out of this, but it looks like I'm stuck with it."
"Ah. You believe it to be a phobia rooted in some historical event?"
"I know exactly where it's rooted. I just can't manage to get rid of it." A flash of lightning and nearly simultaneous crack of thunder actually made him cry out. "S-sorry, sir," he managed. Spock shook his head.
"Apologies are illogical. What is, is. Kaidith."
"I don't know what the means."
"It is the philosophy of accepting the inevitable. If something cannot be changed, it must simply be accepted and ignored. Wisdom comes through time. Where do you think your dislike of thunderstorms comes from?"
Kirk shuddered. "From watching one of my favourite horses blasted halfway to the moon because it was out in the field, taking shelter under a tree. I think I was eight years old. I'm sure, every time it happens, that that could happen to me."
"Halfway to...?" Jim looked up at the puzzled expression on Spock's face.
"Oh, a silly expression. I just meant that the horse was struck by lightning and killed instantly. At least, I hope it was killed instantly. I actually fainted."
"A reasonable response for a young human to an intolerable sight."
"Thanks." The next roll of thunder appeared to be from further away, and Jim felt his muscles starting to relax. "It's moving off."
"The rain is still heavy, however. I will remain until it stops."
They lapsed into what felt, to Kirk, like a comfortable silence. He snuck a couple of looks at his alien companion, and then asked, "Why are you on temporarily at the school? I was under the impression that you were assigned aboard the Chadwick."
"I have been reassigned with a promotion to full lieutenant, however my ship is in space dock for two more weeks until her formal commissioning..."
Kirk's eyes grew round. "You're going out on the Enterprise?" he interrupted.
"That is correct. In the position of Science Officer."
"Hey, congratulations! That's great, I envy you." He held out a hand and the Vulcan man looked at it, then up at him, and shook his head.
"Jim Kirk, Vulcans do not shake hands. We are touch telepaths."
Kirk withdrew his hand as if he had been stung. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. You're the first Vulcan I've met, but I suppose I must have learned that in xeno-sociology." He smiled weakly. "Must have been a thunderstorm that day. I usually don't forget things like that."
"Then one hopes there was no thunderstorm the day that you were taught about wormholes or anti-matter reactions."
"Very funny." Kirk sighed and jerked as another long roll of thunder sounded. "But probably true."
"Why don't you seek help for this affliction?"
"Why don't you?"
"I am not afraid of precipitation, I merely dislike it. I am a person born and bred in the desert. My dislike of becoming wet will not affect my ability to perform my duties should I need to get wet."
"Ouch. That hurt."
"Merely a statement of fact." Silence fell again. The rattle of rain on the roof was lessening, and the wind had died almost to stillness. After a few moments Spock shifted. "I understand that you may feel there is some stigma attached to your phobia. Please take what I say under advisement. There is no reason to seek the services of an Academy psychiatrist to help you alleviate your trouble. A private practitioner is a reasonable alternative, and would keep the problem off of your official records. You would not even be required to divulge your name."
Kirk stared, and then smiled. "A very logical suggestion. I'll think it over."
"Do." Spock looked back at him, and although he didn't smile, his face softened somewhat. "You are going far, Jim Kirk. I heard the responses among the instructors to your Kobiyashi Maru test. While I do not claim to understand humans particularly well, I do believe that you are destined to reach the top of your chosen profession. Do not allow this to stand in your way."
The rain stopped. A very low, very distant sound of thunder came. Spock stood up and fastidiously brushed the dust from his trousers. Kirk rose as well, adjusting his wet trunks. "Good advice, Lieutenant. I appreciate your concern, and your comments. Thanks."
"One does not thank logic." He gave a slight nod of his head. "I will go now."
"Lieutenant..." The Vulcan turned at the door. "Look, my commission won't come through for another week, at least. I wonder, would you consider having dinner with me tonight? It wouldn't be against regs, I'm not officially a cadet yet."
One long eyebrow climbed to hide beneath the neatly trimmed bangs. "Stretching a point?"
"Just a bit. I'd like to learn more about Vulcan. And you've... you're a nice guy. What do you say?"
Spock appeared to be considering it, and then he gave a short nod. "That would be acceptable. I am quartered in Hierdahl complex. I will meet you in the lobby at 1730."
"Good. Thanks, see you then."
Kirk gathered his soaking towel from the floor and left the little cabin. He looked around at the clearing sky, the distant black smudge of the storm, and the retreating blue back of Lieutenant Spock.
Strange, what a storm could throw up on a beach. Whistling softly, he shouldered the towel and walked after his new friend.