I exited the plane at 8:00 GMT to sheet rain. It figured, my first day back in England and it was already pissing it down. After half a bagel and a slightly disappointing lasagne on the flight, I was ready for a cup of coffee and a muffin, so almost ran through baggage claims in an attempt to get out of Heathrow Airport. Much to my surprise, my brother was waiting for me as I exited, with a large sign that had 'ALEX BIRCHWOOD GET YOUR ARSE OVER HERE' scribbled on it in black sharpie, it was nice to be back.
"JAKE!" I yelled, and his head whipped around and broke into a large grin when he saw me struggling under the weight of my bags and suitcases. I concealed a grimace when he ran over and gave me a choking hug, squeezing the air out of my lungs. He was two years younger than me, at twenty-one, and shared my thick black hair and blue eyes, but already towered over me at nearly 6"2.
"Stop growing," I mumbled, my face pressed into his chest, and he laughed, and grabbed my shoulders, holding me at arm's length.
"How's my favourite doctor?" He asked me, his London accent very noticeable after my four months in America. I grumbled and handed him my suitcase.
"Bloody tired..." I muttered, and he smirked at me.
We walked to his car, a small blue number, and he placed my suitcases and bags in the boot. I sat in the passenger seat, originally getting in the wrong side, still used to American cars. He chuckled at that, and turned the radio on, strapping himself in and setting off from the airport.
"How are the studies going?" He asked over the monotonous droning of BBC Radio 1.
"Not too bad," I answered back, honestly, "Dissections and lectures are going well. I have a great dissection teacher."
"Good, good."
His face lit up in excitement.
"Wait! You found out your elective didn't you? Did you get biochem?"
Luke knew how much I wanted the Biochemistry elective at the beginning of this year.
"Nope. Maths."
He groaned in sympathy.
"Who's that with?"
"A Vulcan."
He laughed to himself, and I smiled in response, trying hard to conceal the blush that was slowly making its way up my pale face at the memory of my last meeting with Professor Spock. His face had been inches from mine, but neither of us had been willing to take the final move forwards. My heart thumped as I remembered, and I coughed, embarrassed.
"Bet you and him have had a few fights..."
"What?" I asked.
"The Vulcan. I'm sure someone as unorganised as you is basically Vulcan Kryptonite."
I smirked at that. If only he knew how right he was. During my first week, the Professor and I had certainly got into a few squabbles.
We reached home at 9:00am, and I was instantly smothered by a bear hug from my mother, all frizzy hair and flour on her apron, and then passed to my father who clapped me on the back and let out a gruff, "Welcome home, Alex, we missed you."
I was bundled into the kitchen and fed copious amounts of toast and tea, before finally being allowed up to my room to unpack my bags.
I quickly got back into the swing of things, even going out into London town a few times to catch up with friends that I hadn't seen since Summer. The day before Christmas, four of us met up in Costa to grab a coffee and share some gossip. Lillian, my best friend of six years, who was back at home from Nottingham University, started the conversation off with a bang.
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Much Ado About Vulcan (A Spock Love Story) - COMPLETE
Fanfiction"Maybe it's time we stopped trying to stay away from each other," I said, surprising myself with my confidence. A tiny smirk of a smile skittered across his top lip, and before he could say anything in response, I stood on my tiptoes and crushed my...
