Princess Whitelaw and his Toy Chapter 1: Act I, a star trek: 2009 fanfic

Princess Whitelaw and His Toy by diemarysues

Act I

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Tumblrland, lived a princess. He was the only child of King Natatas and Queen Lamamama, and the lifeblood of the nation. There was nothing, from his good look to his enchanting personality, from his wit and intelligence to his incredibly blue eyes, that did not charm the people.

This Princess was called Princess Jamesina Whitelaw.

As was usual practice in Tumblrland, Yule was celebrated in the castle. Anyone and everyone were invited, and the courtyard was awash with colours and music and laughter. Here nobility mixed freely with farmers, thaumaturgists with courtiers, peasants with fairies; this being a night of goodwill rather than segregation of classes. Still, this is a story about Princess Whitelaw, not humanity and its hang-ups, so I'll chalk that paragraph up to digression and move on to our main character.

He was seated on the short flight of stairs that led to the raised dais of his parents' thrones. Around him were the younger members of the court – from old-enough-to-behave-in-public toddlers to not-old-enough-to-be-adult teenagers. They were being entertained by a kind of play, something along the lines of a young curly-haired lad being chased by a bear of some sort.

Princess Whitelaw, who knew the story (the two would eventually fall in love) did his best to quell his boredom by arranging his hands in his lap. He liked the way the deep blue velvet felt against his skin; he was glad he hadn't had to wear the heavily-embroidered silk dress. The thread was too scratchy.

Although all the presents gifted to him had already been opened – and there was a daunting amount of thank you notes to write – Princess Whitelaw knew there was one more. His fairy godmother had not yet shown up, even though the festivities were beginning to wind down. Still, Lady Gaga was famous – or infamous, take your pick – for being fashionably late. Perhaps she wanted to make an entrance.

The Princess was startled out of his musings when clapping started up around him. Belatedly he realised the show was over, and half-heartedly brought his hands together to applaud the bowing couple. Where was his godmother?

One young duke was laughing obnoxiously with a couple of equally unpleasant friends. The Princess narrowed his eyes. He was not fond of Khan Noonien Singh. The Duke of Ceti Alpha V was not pleasant, and since Princess Whitelaw's flat rejection to his courting, well…suffice it to say that interaction between the two was strained, to say the least.

Suddenly a burst of music emerged from the ceiling, while bubbles and scented smoke appeared from thin air. Princess Whitelaw sat up, and his grin lit up his startling blue eyes.

Lady Gaga first went to greet his parents, because as uncontroversial as she was, there were some protocols that simply had to be followed. Acknowledging the hosts of the gathering, especially when those hosts were royal, was one of them. It helped that she was close to King Natatas and Queen Lamamama.

Princess Whitelaw was confused, then, when instead of greeting her godson, she instead went around the great hall producing gifts for everyone…but him. Even that snot Khan got a present, which he immediately ripped open and cackled about with his friends. He caught the words 'Genesis weapon' but wasn't bothered enough to wonder what it was. Instead he walked up to his godmother, who seemed to have exhausted her supply of presents.

"Godmother," he greeted, a little uncertainly.

"Jamesina!" exclaimed Lady Gaga with delight, hugging her godson. "Happy Yule to you." She pulled back, but left her hands on his shoulders.

"And to you," Princess Whitelaw said, unable to not smile in the face of that exuberance.

"You've grown taller; I really should visit more often." She babbled on and on about all the Princess had missed, until he felt his patience run thin.

He said, in an even a voice as he could master, "Godmother, I'm sorry if this is too forward, but where is my Yule gift?"

She looked stricken, and made a big show of checking her pockets (which she didn't actually have) before turning her great big eyes on the Princess.

"I don't have one for you, sweetheart. I'm so sorry."

If he was but a year younger, he would have burst into tears at that admission. (It wasn't that the Princess was spoiled; rather, he looked forward to Yule more than his own birthday, and cherished gifts from his fairy godmother in particular, as she did not visit often, as mentioned earlier.) Still, it took some effort to smooth his expression, and even more to muster a smile.

"I see," he said delicately, doing his best to refrain from saying that no, he didn't see – because he was mature, dammit, and he could prove it to all those –

The rest of the Princess' thoughts have to be censored for the sake of common decency. Truly, the amount of profanity picked up through his friendship with Healer McCoy was lamentable.

Lady Gaga started grinning widely, and Princess Whitelaw blinked, not having expected the action.

"Just kidding, sweetheart! You really think I would've left my only godson out?"

The Princess would have replied, had the fairy not pulled out his present from behind her back. He accepted the gift reverently, and carefully inspected it. The figurine – not a doll, he was too old for dolls – was a man, dressed in a blue tunic, black leggings and black boots. But, upon closer examination, the Princess saw that it wasn't a man; it had delicate, pointed ears. Instead of the usual rosy blush similar (human) figurines had, this had a very faint green tint to its cheeks and ear tips. Its black hair was proportionally longer than the Princess' (somewhat neater, too) and it had large brown eyes (framed by curiously slanting eyebrows) that were enough to make him fall in love with it.

"It's beautiful," he whispered.

"It's a Vulcan warrior. One of their legends, or so I'm told. His name is Spock."

The nation of Tumblrland did not know much about the country of Vulcan. Hardly anyone did, as they were a secretive people. To have gotten an authentic gift from there (and Princess Whitelaw knew that it was authentic, his godmother was snobby like that)…well. It was a gift of tremendous value.

Apparently he was not the only one who had realised this. Later, several parties would confirm the look on envy on the Duke's face right before he deliberately knocked into the Princess.

"So sorry," he said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. Princess Whitelaw hardly noticed, as his attention was more focused on the figurine on the floor.

"It's broken!" he said in anguish.

"Such a shame. I do apologise, Princess, truly. However, I am needed elsewhere. I take my leave."

Princess Whitelaw glared at his retreating back, wishing irrationally that he could burn him with the force of his gaze alone. 'Khaaaan,' he thought angrily.

"It's not too badly broken," said Lady Gaga. She'd scooped up Spock from the floor.

"It's not too – his arm's come off!" It wasn't the only damage to the figurine, but it was the most visible.

"'Tis but a scratch." Lady Gaga kissed her godson's forehead, though he remained unconvinced. "Enjoy the rest of the party, Jamesina. I'll take care of this."

OoOoOoOoOo

Princess Whitelaw crept as quietly as he could into his own quarters, which is easier said than done when one was tipsy. Healer McCoy – Bones, as Jamesina affectionately called him – would not allow him to return to his rooms alone if he was truly drunk. ("Else your parents would send me out of Tumblrland, Jim, even if I was the best healer they could find.") Even so, Princess Whitelaw stumbled once or twice, and had trouble keeping the smile off his face.

His bedchambers were blissfully cool once he opened the door, but his attention was more on the blue bubbles floating around the room, the note propped up on the vase of chrysanthemums – but most importantly, Spock on his bedside table.

Instead of snatching up the figurine – because he was a little worried his impaired coordination would lead to it breaking again – Jamesina sat on his bed, and waited for a while for it to stop dipping crazily under him. Then he picked up the card.

Jamesina,

Didn't I tell you I'd take care of it? I've added a few extra charms to make sure nothing like that will happen again, but I know you'll take care of him. I'm sorry I won't be spending much time with you this time, sweetheart. I'll try to visit again soon, I promise.

In the meantime; don't you think Spock belongs with the present your parents gave you? Yes, we coordinated our presents this year. And don't roll your eyes, young man; do you think we can't be sneaky?

All my love,

Your godmother.

Princess Whitelaw smiled, replaced the card, picked up Spock, and then carefully set across the room. As long as he didn't make any sudden moves or lean over to one side too much, he figured he'd be fine.

On the mantelpiece over the fireplace sat his parents' gift to him. It was a beautiful silver ship, but not the traditional sailing vessel the Princess was accustomed to. According to the King and Queen, it was for venturing among the stars, knowing that their son had a certain fascination with them. Jamesina had decided to name the ship the Enterprise, for no other reason than the fact that it seemed strangely suitable.

Looking at the Vulcan warrior in his arms, he now decided that, yes, he could imagine Spock on the Enterprise, as its captain, sailing to the sun and to distant stars.

He rectified the image as he walked to the window seat; instead of the Vulcan, it would be him, Jamesina Whitelaw, as the captain, with Spock as his second-in-command. Sitting down on the cushions and tucking his feet beneath him, the Princess propped his chin on one hand, Spock cradled in the other, staring out at the midnight sky and mapping his journey.

He wasn't sure when he fell asleep.

OoOoOoOoOo

"Captain?"

Who was that touching his shoulder? It was a very pleasant voice, no doubt, but Princess Whitelaw had never heard it before. Since his parents had raised him properly – i.e., do not talk to strangers, Jamesina –, he did not answer.

"Captain? Are you alright?"

But he supposed he could sneak a look. There was no harm in looking, surely. He opened his eyes. He gasped.

The face hovering over his was familiar. But it shouldn't have been…real.

"Spock?"

The Vulcan's face was completely devoid of any emotion, but his quirked eyebrow seemed to convey amusement. Or, at least, that's what Jamesina thought.

"Affirmative, Captain. It seems that there has been a transporter malfunction. Mr. Scott is currently running diagnostics, though he cannot yet explain why beaming up to the Enterprise could have knocked you unconscious…or alter your clothing."

Only about half of what Spock had said made any sort of sense to Jamesina. He glanced down at himself confusedly. "My clothing?"

"You are not in the habit of wearing dresses, Captain." The eye twinkle seemed to convey more amusement. "At least, not to my knowledge."

"I was wearing this just before I – oh. Oh. I get it." The Princess laughed, finally pushing himself up into sitting position. Suddenly his surroundings – which were completely alien, by the way – and the presence of his should-be fictional companion made sense.

Spock obligingly moved back to give him space. (It was only then that Jamesina noticed that he was kneeling by him on the strange metal floor.) "Captain?"

"It's a dream! This is just a dream."

There was only the slightest furrow between Spock's brows, but he was clearly frowning. (Clearly for him, anyway.) "Captain, I can assure you, this is no dream."

"Of course it is, Spock." Princess Whitelaw wrote off the familiarity of that name on his tongue as part of the dream. "I was supposed to go to bed after seeing Bones, but since my godmother fixed you, I guess I fell asleep at the window with you in my arms. I mean, I do remember that I was imagining sailing with you. That's the only reason I'd be here in my nightdress." He laughed again, fingering the dress in question. It was gold, and cotton, and comfortable.

"Captain." Spock's fingers twitched from where his hands were carefully placed on his thighs, as if he wanted to reach out and touch the Princess. "Jim. This is no dream." When Jamesina did nothing more than look nonplussed, he said, cautiously, "You are James Tiberius Kirk, captain of the Enterprise."

The Princess' brow furrowed, his knees coming up to his chest automatically. "I'm not a captain. I'm not this James Kirk. My name is Jamesina Whitelaw. Princess Jamesina Whitelaw."

"Jim, we can have Leonard look you over, but I assure you –"

He shook his head furiously. "Stop it! I'm not your captain! This is my dream, anyway, you shouldn't be protesting!"

Spock was silent for a moment, breathing evenly, his face smooth and clear of all expression. He merely looked at Jamesina, and the Princess looked right back. It was startling, how much he looked like the figurine his godmother had gifted him – or, rather, it was startling how much the figurine looked like him. Maybe not so startling, if this was a dream. Which it was.

The Vulcan's quiet voice broke through his musings.

"Jim…Princess. It is now clear to me that you are not my…Captain. However, I cannot stress enough that this is not a figment of your imagination. This ship and everything within it, including myself; these are all real."

"It can't be, Spock." He said this even though he could not possibly have dreamed in this level of detail, could not possibly feel the cold of the floor through his bare feet, could not possibly have come up with the richness of Spock's voice.

"My mother has told me that humans often pinch themselves to determine whether or not they are dreaming. You – that is, your counterpart – has often said so, particularly when we visit paradisiacal planets." His voice betrayed no inflection, but somehow managed to convey his disapproval for such nonsense.

The Princess wanted to ask what he'd meant by 'humans' – did that mean Spock was not human? Well, the ears sort of gave that away, but still. Instead he raised a slightly shaky hand and pinched himself on the shoulder.

It hurt.

Oh, no. Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no, oh, no, oh, no, oh, no, oh, no, oh, no –

"Princess!"

He felt Spock grab his shoulders, and only then noticed that he'd been saying it aloud. His blue eyes were wide and panicky as he met Spock's brown ones. He struggled to find words. "This – I can't…my family, Spock! They'll miss me! I need to get back home!"

Despite his mouth maintaining its severe line, his eyes softened slightly, almost unnoticeably. But before he could say anything, someone walked into the room.

He looked like the castle's Head Tinker (Montgomery was his name), except for his manner of dress. He had on a similar tunic to Spock's, only his was blood red.

"Ah'm sorry, Mr. Spock, but I cannae – Cap'n! Yeh're awake!"

Jamesina knew that there was no way the man could have known who he really was. Even so, his nerves were fragile with all the stress he was undergoing. He snapped.

He got to his feet and stood, slightly unsteady due to the sudden rush of blood. "I am not the captain," he bit out. "I'm Princess Whitelaw."

With that announcement, he ran out of the room, leaving behind the man who looked like someone from home, and the Vulcan who had just been a toy from his godmother when he'd fallen asleep.

OoOoOoOoOo

He'd just run, uncaring of where his feet took him or the odd looks he received from people in the hallways. He had no idea where he was headed, only that he needed to get away. From what, he didn't know.

When he finally stopped, chest heaving, having gone through one of those odd swishing automatic doors, he found himself surrounded by sterile whiteness (well, even more sterile and white than the rest of the ship he'd seen).

A man who was fiddling with several vials and dangerous looking equipment looked up briefly at him, then continued with his work. "Yes, Jim?"

Princess Whitelaw felt his jaw drop. He looked exactly the same, sounded exactly the same as – "Bones?"

"Yeah. You wanna explain to me why you're wearing a dress, kid? Or is it like the time with the Klingons?" When Jamesina didn't answer, he frowned, but still didn't look up. Possibly the noxious looking yellow fluid he was transferring from one vial to another was caustic. "Jim?"

He swallowed. "I'm not Jim. Or…I'm not the Jim everyone thinks I am."

Bones went very still, and slowly placed his equipment onto the table in front of him. Only then did he look up, properly, at Princess Whitelaw. He stared at him for two moments, and then said, "You're right. You're too young." He scratched at his chin. "Have a seat, kid."

The Princess gratefully sank into one of the oddly shaped chairs, pulling his legs to his chest so he could rest his chin on his knees. He knew it was a very vulnerable position, but this man was so much like the Bones he knew at home. It was just so natural to be comfortable around him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, eyeing the contents littering the table curiously.

"I'm preparing the crew's inoculations. Space is disease and danger wrapped up in darkness and silence."

He said it with such vehemence that Princess Whitelaw was reminded of his own Bones, who hated swimming. His fond smile dropped away from his face, however, and his fingers fisted in the material of his skirt.

"Bones…I'm scared."

"Jim. Don't worry." Jamesina felt rather than saw the healer stand and approach him. "We'll get you home."

"How do you know that? I mean, I don't even know how I got here, and I don't know why you're so much like healer McCoy at home, and you don't know where my home is or, or when, and I thought this was all just a dream, it'd be so much simpler then, but it's not a dream, and I'm never going to see my parents –"

Bones stopped his increasingly hysterical rant by grasping one shoulder and shaking him gently. "Jim, trust me. You do trust me, right?" At the Princess' hesitant nod, he smiled warmly. "So listen to me; you will go home. We have the best crew in the 'fleet, some of the brightest minds onboard."

Jamesina couldn't help but ask. "Spock?"

He snorted. "So you met the hobgoblin, eh?" Without waiting for an answer, instead looking around furtively, Bones said, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but, yeah. He's annoying as Hell, but he's a genius. Apparently smarter than Vulcans his age. If anyone can get you home, it's him."

Princess Whitelaw couldn't help but feel inexplicably heartened by this. He gave Bones a shy smile, and was given a hearty clap on the shoulder.

"Now c'mon. Let's get you into something else. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were a princess from one of Joanna's fairytales."

Jamesina obligingly rose to his feet, but felt inclined to correct him. "But Bones…I am a princess."

Bones just stared at him for a while. "Huh. No shit."

OoOoOoOoOo

It seemed that Spock had explained to the crew the unusual circumstances surrounding the Princess' presence. Although it meant that the stares were more pointed and accompanied with whispering, it was a relief that no one was calling him Captain, or thinking him someone he was not.

It was still odd, however, meeting those who made up the actual Captain's (this Jim Kirk) primary circle of friends, a group of people Spock referred to as the primary bridge crew. (At first the Princess didn't see why they were called this, seeing as there would hardly be any reason for a bridge on a ship. However, he was smart enough to figure out after all that the area before the main screen in which most of the important decisions were made was called the bridge.) That they had counterparts in his own country (his own world?) was…unsettling.

Other than Spock, Scotty and Bones, there was Sulu (who looked almost exactly like his father's General), Chekov (who bore a striking resemblance to the court's thaumaturge prodigy) and Uhura (identical to his mother's best friend and the court translator). The last seemed to take Jamesina under her wing (which tickled the others, for some reason), because she was the first to realise what only Bones had seen.

"Kep – ah, I mean, Princess. How old are you being?" Chekov asked, a little nervously. Sulu shot him an odd look from where he was standing beside him, but the Russian seemed to pay him no mind.

"My coming-of-age ceremony was celebrated in August." At the blank looks he received, Jamesina clarified. "Sixteen years."

Chekov gasped and Sulu's eyes grew wide, as did Scotty's. Even Spock was surprised, inasmuch Spock could be surprised. Bones rolled his eyes, while Uhura didn't react at all.

Princess Whitelaw, not sure why such an admission was a surprise, shifted uncomfortably and tugged at the gold fabric of his new clothes. It was unfamiliar to his fingers, made of a material that had a name he couldn't remember. He'd been more comfortable in his own dress, but he'd agreed to change because Bones insisted it would make him stand out less. Well, that and it was improper to walk around in one's nightgown. (Still, the boots were nice.)

A gentle hand on his wrist snapped him out of his thoughts and stilled his unconscious pulling. He looked into Uhura's kind eyes. (She was only slightly shorter than him. Perhaps he would grow some more, it remained to be seen.) Uhura had been the one who'd found his current clothes. She wore similar clothes but in red. It was decidedly shorter than what Princess Whitelaw was accustomed to. Bones' reaction to it was raised eyebrows and "I didn't know they made those in gold."

"It only stretches to a certain point. If you're not careful, it'll stay stretched."

He managed a small smile, which she returned with interest.

"You are younger than I was vhen I joined zhe crew!" exclaimed Chekov.

"Yeah. And Pasha's only turning nineteen this year," said Sulu, seeming not to notice his companion's blush. (Princess Whitelaw wondered why this was. Why Chekov was blushing, not why Sulu was ignoring the fact.)

"It is of no consequence," Spock said, finally speaking. "The Princess is neither here as a member of Starfleet, nor is he a crewman of the Enterprise. Seeing as Starfleet Command has yet to send us instructions for our next mission, I propose (as acting Captain) that we devote our time devising how best to send the Princess home, and how to locate our Captain."

Princess Whitelaw solemnly went up to the Vulcan and hugged him. Spock immediately stiffened, either because he didn't like being hugged or didn't often receive them. Jamesina did not care which it was. He was touched that the Vulcan was willing to do so much for him, a stranger.

"Thank you," he said softly, before stepping back and looking around the room – the bridge, he corrected. "Thank all of you."

"Gratitude is illogical, Princess. No doubt the same courtesy would be extended to anyone in your predicament."

Princess Whitelaw didn't take offense mainly because of the tone he'd used. And, besides, he'd been around Spock long enough to glean that that was how he was. It was almost like he knew Spock, as impossible as it sounded.

Someone coughed pointedly. All eyes turned to Scotty, who was grinning, unconcerned about the attention focused on him.

"Mr. Spock – tha is t'say, Cap'n – ah was just wond'ring, on account o' tha Princess being new ta tha Silver Lady, whether we could all officially welcome 'im."

Spock raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

"'Tis a human thing."

"If you deem it necessary," was the curt reply, and the Chief Engineer's smile widened, if that was possible.

Out of nowhere he produced a long-ish metal pole that could stand on its own and had a knob on the other end (a microphone and stand, for those of us from a significantly advanced timeline than the Princess'). Behind him Sulu stood with an odd lute (a guitar) while Chekov sat before what the Princess recognized as drums, though there were several of them and arranged in a way unfamiliar to him. Uhura joined Scotty, holding a tambourine, while Spock loosely gripped a harp.

Chekov struck the two sticks he held together in a sort of countdown, and then...they began.

"In the town where I was born," sang Scotty, "Lived a man who sailed in space. And he told us of his life, in the fleet o' th' Federation.

"So we sailed up to the sun, til we found the vacuum o' space. And we lived beneath th' stars, in our silver Enterprise."

Then everyone (excepting Spock, who's fingers were flying across the strings of his harp), sang together, "We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise. We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise!"

"And our friends are all on board, many more of them on other ships. And the band begins to play..."

"We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise. We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise!"

"Full speed ahead, Mr. Scotty, full speed ahead!" crooned Uhura.

"Full speed over here, ma'am!"

Sulu piped up, "Action station! Action station!"

"Aye, aye, sire, fire! Photons! Photons!

"As we live a life of ease, every one of us –"

"Every one of us –"

"Has all we need –"

"Stars abound –"

"And planets all o'er –"

"In our silver –"

"Enterprise –"

"Enterprise, ha ha!"

"We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise. We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise! We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise. We all live in the starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise, starship Enterprise!"

OoOoOoOoOo

In deep space, there were few ships. It was frequented by pirates and other unsavoury types, where it was easier to evade Starfleet patrols.

The particular ship that we are interested in did not consist of smugglers or their ilk – rather, its occupants were miners. Or, they had been. Or was it going to be? That's the trouble with time travel, it plays havoc with your tenses.

At any rate, if you were to travel about 200 years into the future, such a ship would have no business in deep space. It was a simple mining vessel, at least in its time. Now it dwarfed Federation ships and was better and more sophisticatedly equipped than the most modern of crafts.

It was a sight to inspire awe and fear, all jagged edges and oxidised-looking surfaces. Its crewmembers were the same – already they were hardy males and females (for I never said they were human), but all their lives had been affected by a single incident that had made them somewhat more...intimidating.

The most unstable of them all was their Captain, Nero. But don't let me describe him to you; I'll let you draw your own conclusions.

"My gallant crew, good morning," Nero called out.

Those with free hands saluted, but all answered, "Sir, good morning!"

"I hope you're all quite well."

"Quite well; and you, sir?"

"I am in reasonable health, and happy to meet you all once more."

"You do us proud, sir!"

Nero laughed, a little manically, and hopped down from his chair onto the work-floor below. "I am the Captain of the Narada –"

"And a right good captain, too!" the crew was quick to chime in.

"You're very, very good, and be it understood, I command a right good crew."

"We're very, very good, and be it understood, he commands a right good crew."

"Though originally a miner, through space I can steer, and red matter I have here; I'm never known to quail at the fury of a gale, and I'm never, never sick in space!"

"What, never?"

"No, never!"

"What, never?"

"Hmm." Nero made a show of rubbing his bald head. "Hardly ever!"

"He's hardly ever sick in space! Then give three cheers, and one cheer more, for the hardy Captain of the Narada! Then give three cheers, and one cheer more, for the Captain of the Narada!"

"I do my best to satisfy you all –"

"And with you we're quite content."

"You're exceedingly polite, and I think it only right to return the compliment."

"We're exceedingly polite, and he thinks it's only right to return the compliment."

"Bad language or abuse, I never, never use, whatever the emergency; though yy'Ah'an I may occasionally say, I never use yy'a Favi!

"What, never?"

"No, never!"

"What, never?"

He looked sheepish now. "Well, hardly ever!"

"Hardly ever swears yy'a Favi! Then give three cheers, and one cheer more, for the well-bred Captain of the Narada! Then give three cheers, and one cheer more, for the Captain of the Narada!"

Yes.

OoOoOoOoOo

After the welcome, which Princess Whitelaw did appreciate, he had a meal in what was called the Mess (although it was no less clean than the rest of the ship). The 'replicators' were fascinating, managing to produce his favourite food, which comforted him somewhat. When it became clear that the stress of the day had caught him up again, this time in the form of exhaustion, Bones ordered he go to bed.

Jamesina downright balked at using the Captain's quarters, and instead took up Uhura's offer of using her bed. He also accepted her offer of singing him to sleep, despite the fact that he was sixteen and having someone tuck him in at that age should have been embarrassing. The fact of the matter was that his parents had taken it in turns to sing him to sleep during his younger years. Having Uhura's lovely voice lull him to sleep helped with the loneliness, a little.

When he awoke he was alone. Not one for sitting around idly, Princess Whitelaw decided to wander. He doubted he would get into much trouble. Eventually he found himself on the observation deck, and stared out at space and the stars within, absolutely enthralled.

That was how Spock found him.

"Princess?"

He turned, and had Spock been fully human he might have gasped at the way the action threw the Princess' features into sharp relief and made his eyes glow as if from within. He had not instructed for the lights on the deck to be increased (probably because he did not know how), and so the only light came from outside.

"Spock!" Jamesina smiled at the way the Vulcan had paused by the door, the perfect gentleman. "Come join me." He turned back to stare outside, and only spoke again once he felt the warm presence by his side. "It's beautiful."

He did not reply, but the Princess could sense his agreement. He surreptitiously studied him from out of the corner of his eye. The Vulcan had perfect posture, hands clasped loosely together at the small of his back. Not a strand of his black hair was out of place, and his uniform was...deliciously figure hugging.

Slightly embarrassed at thinking this, Princess Whitelaw flushed and returned his gaze to the celestial bodies in front of them.

If the Vulcan had noticed the scrutiny (and he had), he gave no indication. Instead he broke the silence with a query. "Do you not have stars in your homeland, Princess?"

A smile. "We do. It's just...I've never seen so many, so close."

Spock politely refrained from commenting that the stars surrounding them were still light-years away to be seen as pinpricks of light, whether from the surface of a planet or the observation deck of the ship. He had picked up a few things from interacting with humans for so long, after all.

The sound of the Vulcan's voice seemed to trigger something in the Princess' head. "Don't you sing, Mr. Spock?"

"Only...sometimes," he admitted slowly. "It is not a frivolity I indulge in often."

"Pity. I bet it'd be wonderful."

Spock definitely turned to look at him then. Jamesina tried his damndest to keep his gaze forward, and his face straight. But he'd been telling only the truth.

"...thank you, Jim. Princess."

"It's alright," he replied softly. "You can call me Jim."

Comfortable silence descended between them. Princess Whitelaw couldn't fathom why he had such a...connection with Spock. He did not question his attraction to the Vulcan – even a blind person would admit that he was beyond handsome. This was more mental compatibility, even though he and the Princess were from such different worlds. He knew, for example, that he would do anything for Spock, to see him happy. He wondered, now, if that worked both ways.

"Are you sure I'll be able to get back home?" Jamesina asked, for the first time unsure if he actually wanted to leave.

Spock didn't answer until the Princess turned to meet his gaze. "Yes. I am quite confident of this. Mr. Scott has told me that the transporter room will be ready in exactly 1.27 hours. We will attempt to send you home then."

He felt a lump in his throat. "Why're you doing this for me?"

"It is the right thing to do." It seemed like that was all he was going to say on the matter, when Spock abruptly looked down, almost...shy. "Also, Jim, I –"

Suddenly, the ship lurched to the side. Princess Whitelaw stumbled into Spock's solid chest. The Vulcan caught him neatly, being more used to this sort of thing. They were bathed in the auxiliary lights as the red alert sounded.

"Excuse me, Princess," said Spock as soon as Jamesina was on his feet. "I am needed on the bridge." He ran out.

Without thinking about it, Princess Whitelaw followed. It was a good thing that the Starfleet certified uniform for female officers, whether or not gold, were conducive to running.

OoOoOoOoOo

"Status, Mr. Sulu."

"Shields are at 69 percent, Captain. Their torpedoes clipped the starboard side, but we managed to destroy the rest of them."

"Com – Keptin, I am thinking zhat it is Romulan ship!"

Spock turned his head to survey the curly-haired Navigations Officer. "Romulan?"

Before Chekov could answer, Uhura spoke up, her tone clipped. "Sir, they're hailing us."

"Patch it through, Lieutenant."

Only Princess Whitelaw was unfamiliar with the face that graced the viewscreen. The rest of the crew either set their jaws or narrowed their eyes or did nothing at all, according to their natures. Jamesina felt a shiver run down his spine when he looked into those cruel black eyes and the alien-looking markings on his face.

"Hello, Spock."

"Nero." Without letting an ounce of emotion seep into his voice, Spock seemed to inject disdain and hatred into two syllables. Or perhaps it was only Princess Whitelaw that had picked up on that.

"So nice to see all of you again. Though I'm quite sure James T. Kirk was not in women's clothing the last time."

The Vulcan didn't rise to the bait, didn't even let his eyes flicker to the Princess. "Nero, you are wanted by the Federation for the attempted attack on a Federation planet, and –"

"Oh, don't be boring. We both know I'm not going to come quietly. I see you've upgraded your weapons. I've made a few of my own. I don't want to have to use them on your ship. Just board a shuttle. I'll take care of the rest."

Chekov and Sulu exchanged glances, while Uhura surreptitiously took the Princess' hand and squeezed it.

Spock's reply was cool. "What do you hope to gain by my presence?"

"Well, then I will acquire the codes for Vulcan's defence systems. If you remember correctly, and you should, that was the only thing that stood in the way of your planet's destruction."

"I will not wilfully abet attempts to –"

Nero sighed. "Fine. I guess I would like to show off the Narada's new features. Feature one; forced transmission. Ayel, hit it."

Immediately the bridge was swamped with loud music, a mixture of electronic guitar and other sounds that were foreign to the Princess' ears. Then voices filtered in – probably 'Ayel' and the crew of the Narada.

"Everybody...better give up... Everybody, better give up right. Nero's back, alright!"

"Lieutenant, shut the transmission!"

"I'm trying, Spock!" Uhura said agitatedly, having let go of Princess Whitelaw's hand and pressing various buttons at her station. "It's not working!"

The music seemed to start in earnest now, with Ayel's voice clearly heard over the background.

"By the gods, we're back again. Starfleet officers, everybody scream. We're gonna bring the wipeout, show you how. I've gotta question for ya, better answer now. Yeah.

"Are we original? (Yeah) Are we the only ones? (Yeah) Are we Romulans? (Yeah) Are we everything you fear, you better give up now –

"Everybody, yeah...better give up, yeah...Everybody, better give up right. Nero's back, alright! Alright!"

"Now throw your hands up in the air, and wave 'em around like you're shit scared. If you wanna surrender let me hear you yell, 'cause we got it goin' on again. Yeah, yeah, yeah –"

"Are we original? (Yeah) Are we the only ones? (Yeah) Are we Romulans? (Yeah) Are we everything you fear, you better give up now –

"Everybody, yeah...better give up, yeah...Everybody, better give up right. Nero's back, alright! Alright!"

Nero's voice came over the ship's speakers, even though both Uhura and Chekov were working on shutting it out. Even Scotty was trying down in Engineering; apparently Nero was transmitting to the whole ship. The whole ship. "Feature two; a tractor beam. We will have your ship in our docking bay, kill everyone – but you, Spock – and we will torture the codes out of you. Unless you cooperate now, of course."

"Everybody, yeah...better give up, yeah...Everybody, better give up right. (Better give up right). Nero's back, everybody – Better give up! Better give up! Better give up! Everybody better give up, better give up. Better give up! Everybody!

"Nero's back, alright!"

OoOoOoOoOo

"Keptin, I cannot...I cannot –"

"I understand, Ensign." Spock flipped open his communicator. "Mr. Scott."

"Aye, Cap'n?" He sounded harried and slightly disbelieving, as if he hadn't foreseen the possibility of something technical flummoxing him. "Wha' can ah do fer yeh?"

"Is it possible for you to circumvent this tractor beam Nero was referring to?" For some reason, Spock's eyes had met and held the Princess'. He looked utterly lost, and there was a hint of panic under his carefully constructed veneer of bravado. He was not very much like Jim Kirk, it was now obvious.

There came the sound of tapping keys, swearing, shouts at Keenser who shouted rude things back in his native tongue, and then Scotty replied, "Tha'd be a no, Mr. Spock. E's got us well enough."

"Acknowledged." Spock snapped the communicator closed, his other hand gripping the railing tightly. When he released it, Jamesina noticed that there were indentations where his fingers had been. "Fire phasers."

"Aye sir!"

"Mr. Sulu, try to bring the Enterprise out of range of the tractor beam. Forward shields at maximum."

"Yessir!"

The ship shuddered and lurched as Sulu wrestled with the controls. The phaser bursts connected with the hull of the Narada, but seemed to do little damage. Princess Whitelaw involuntarily moved to stand beside Spock, and they both stared out of the viewscreen as the Enterprise put shot after ineffective shot into the Romulan ship.

A sigh came over the ship's speakers. "Feature three, then."

The Narada fired three torpedoes.

The Enterprise managed to destroy two with phaser fire and photon torpedoes. Just barely.

The remaining torpedo thudded into the Silver Lady. Starboard side.

"Shields are dropping! One more hit like that and the hull will be in worse shape than it is now!"

"I am issuing general order thirteen." Spock met the eyes of all those looking at him, ending with the Princess. "Evacuate this ship."

"Spock, you can't –"

"It is done." He went to the Captain's chair and pressed a button. The chime for shipwide broadcast sounded, followed almost immediately by music – not from Nero, though.

Princess Whitelaw was stunned when Spock started singing.

"Turn up the shields, let's get out of the bridge. If you do not move it, then you better watch out. Watch me getting physical, out of control – there're humans watching me. I never miss a beat."

Someone tried to interrupt, but Spock merely gave them his trademark eyebrow raised, which got her to shut up pretty quickly.

"Still your mouths, kill the lights, feel it under your skin. Time is right, keep it tight, 'cause it's pulling us in. Wrap it up, can't warp 'cause it feels like a tractor beam (Feels like a tractor beam) –

"Oh, oh, evacuate the Enterprise, oh, oh, Nero is out of control. Oh, oh, stop, our phasers do not work. Hey, Mr. Sulu initiate evasive pattern Delta Five.

"(Everybody on the ship!) Oh, oh, evacuate the Enterprise, oh, oh, Nero is out of control. Oh, oh, stop, our phasers do not work. Hey, Dr. McCoy fulfil your duties as our CMO."

(At this point a comm came in from the Medical Bay. It was filled with much profanity which was rather drowned out by the music, even if it was Bones doing the swearing, so we will not pay it much heed.)

"My body's aching, system overload. Emotions rising I'm about to explode. Watch me I'm compromised, emotionally. He's got me tempestuous. Everybody step aside.

"Oh, oh, evacuate the Enterprise, oh, oh, Nero is out of control. Oh, oh, stop, our phasers do not work. Hey, Mr. Sulu initiate evasive pattern Delta Five.

"(Everybody on the ship!) Evacuate the Enterprise, oh, oh, Nero is out of control. (Everybody on the ship!) Oh, oh, stop, our phasers do not work. Hey, Dr. McCoy fulfil your duties as our CMO.

"Come on and evacuate, feel the ship is heating up. Still, try to accelerate, push it to the max. Come on and evacuate, feel the ship is heating up. Still, try to accelerate, you don't have to be afraid."

Now Scotty broke in. It was not apparent whether he was singing at the top of his voice or had boosted the volume. This is also an unimportant, digressive fact.

"Now guess who's back with a brand new plan, that got everybody in the ship in danger? So everybody in the back get your arses into shuttles and just get away. But I'll not leave ye, Silver Lady – let me see yer ample nacelles. Now drop it down low, low, let me see you take it to warp seven, yo!"

"(Everybody on the ship!) Evacuate the Enterprise. (Everybody on the ship!) Nero is out of control. (Everybody on the ship!) Stop, our phasers do not work. Hey, Mr. Sulu initiate evasive pattern Delta Five.

"Oh, oh, evacuate the Enterprise, oh, oh, Nero is out of control. Oh, oh, stop, our phasers do not work. Hey, Mr. Sulu initiate evasive pattern Delta Five.

"(Everybody on the ship!) Oh, oh, evacuate the Enterprise, oh, oh, Nero is out of control. (Everybody on the ship!) Oh, oh, stop, our phasers do not work. Hey, Dr. McCoy fulfil your duties as our CMO."

Most of the ship was deserted by now, which was good, as it was still taking damage from the torpedoes the Enterprise couldn't obliterate. Engineering was completely empty save for Scotty and Keenser, the former apparently being terrifying when 'his' Lady was in danger, and the latter stubborn and used to his friend's moods. McCoy was yelling at the nurses to leave it and go, dammit woman, I'm a doctor, not a martyr, I'll be right behind you! None of the bridge crew moved an inch, but to be fair, they were trying to buy time for the escaping shuttles, and trying to damage the Narada while avoiding damage.

No one suggested that Princess Whitelaw go. It had little to do with the fact that he looked startlingly like their AWOL Captain, and more to do with the fierce expression on his face.

The Narada fired again. Not a torpedo, some other kind of weapon, one too advanced to have an accurate description. Its impact with the Enterprise (as even the photon torpedoes were ineffective against it) made a worrying sound as the ship pitched to the side, unbalancing many.

"Cap'n!" The voice was Scotty's, although it was hard to tell over all the white noise. "E's – krrrsh – warp drive! Knocked it ou – krxsrshh –"

Princess Whitelaw only noticed the tiny shoulder slump because he'd been staring at Spock. He touched the Vulcan's arm.

"Spock, no."

He didn't even look up. "Nero. I surrender."

"Good! I did say I wanted you alive." The Romulan captain's face had reappeared on the viewscreen. His grin was grotesque, at least to the Princess' eyes.

"You will spare the lives of my crew."

He made a show of thinking about it, although the Narada had already stopped firing. "Well, since your warp drive's been disabled...fine. As long as you come aboard quietly and give me what I want." Nero flapped a hand dismissively. "Get your toadies to clear the space around you so we can beam you aboard."

Spock gazed at him steadily. "I will require time to deliver final orders and appoint a new captain."

The grin grew. "Since I'm generous, take ten minutes." His face winked out of view, and the constant hum that had been playing in the background since the Narada had forced transmission on them.

"Spock, this is crazy!" Uhura cried. "Do you really think –"

"Nyota. My safety is of no importance." He eyed her briefly before turning to the helmsman. "Mr. Sulu. You are now Captain. If it is possible for Mr. Scott to repair the engines, then proceed to the Laurentian system with all due haste. Lieutenant Uhura, contact Starfleet to apprise them of the situation. I will attempt to stall Nero, but it is only a matter of time until they reach my planet. It is imperative that you group with the fleet to balance the terms of the next engagement. Before Nero attacks another Federation planet."

Everyone looked ready to argue with this, but Jamesina got there first.

"Spock, you can't do that, listen to me!" He grabbed both of Spock's arms, uncaring of whether it was a faux pas or not. "He's going to kill you. We have to try to –"

"Princess, you are not from here. You do not understand."

Jamesina flinched at the tone he was using. Somehow it was devoid of the warmth it'd had when they'd been alone on the observation deck.

"There are billions of lives at stake here, not merely my own. The needs of the many outweigh the need of the few...or the one. My life pales in comparison to the billions of Vulcans Nero seeks to kill."

Princess Whitelaw felt his heart clench at those words, but couldn't explain why. "But you can't, you can't, I –" And here the words wouldn't flow. "I –"

"I apologise, Princess, for not seeing you sent home safely." He looked like he was about to say something else, but abruptly turned his head away. This was clearly a dismissal, and Uhura gently pulled Jamesina away. He struggled.

"Spock –"

Nero's voice sounded, interrupting whatever Princess Whitelaw had been about to say. "Well, it's not ten minutes, but the Narada's ready for warp. Let's go."

Spock held up his hand in the Vulcan salute. "Live long and –"

"NO!"

Princess Whitelaw actually managed to catch him by surprise, because the push got Spock to stagger back a few steps. The Vulcan couldn't keep the astonishment off his face as he stared at the empty space where the young human had been standing.

"Well, well. James Kirk – hero to the end, aren't you?" Nero's laugh was unpleasant. "This might be even better. You should know the subspace frequency for planet Earth. Thank you, Spock. This might be the only time for you to say goodbye to whatever family you have."

As abruptly as it had arrived (and attacked the Federation flagship), the Narada disappeared, having gone into warp.

There was utter silence on the bridge, save the still continuing wail of red alert, and the crackle of electricity from damaged consoles, and the hum of the engines. Some people were looking out at what was now empty space. Most eyes, however, were on their Vulcan science officer. His arm was thrown out, and the expression on his face heartbreaking.

Nero had taken Princess Whitelaw.

OoOoOoOoOo

Unbetaed, but I'm sure I caught *most* of the spelling/grammar errors.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. I don't own Princess Whitelaw, either the real one (rawr) or the fictional one of the children's book series (that belongs to natatas), but I do own this particular aspect of him. I don't own King Natatas and Queen Lamama, nor do I own Lady Gaga. I don't own the title of this story, but I did come up with the plot by myself. I don't own the songs mentioned in this story, though I do own the time used to butcher them. Are you getting a sense of what I do and do not own yet?

Act I. Because this story is about a third of the way through, and I don't want to have to put you through such a long chunk of story. So instead I give you a cliffhanger. My anonymous reviews are enabled, so don't be shy to leave a review.

Seriously. Don't be shy.

Anila.