Author's note:
I am not a Trekkie. I have not seen all of the classic Star Trek movies, nor have I seen all of the Star Trek TV shows. But JJ Abrams has sucked me into his Star Trek world and I love it. As such, I will probably make mistakes and miss a lot of small details that will have ardent fans screaming, and for that I apologize. All I ask is that you please overlook such errors for the sake of the story. I don't own any of the Star Trek characters, and this is definitely not to be considered canon in any universe. Please just read, and if you'd like leave a review!
Thanks! ~Max
James Kirk raised his eyebrows questioningly at his First Officer, furtively pointing towards his dinner plate before leaning slightly towards him and quietly whispering, "Spock, what is this?"
Commander Spock regarded his Captain, dressed in full formal Starfleet uniform and currently seated beside him at a formal diplomatic dinner. Despite the impeccable formality and personal restraint Kirk had outwardly displayed all evening, Spock knew his commanding officer was writhing inside. Although he loved the challenge of diplomacy and finding a workable solution for all involved, Kirk hated the formality and stuffiness of it. He had expressed his displeasure with the plodding institution of modern diplomacy many times, insisting universal problems could be solved much quicker if all parties were given the freedom to simply converse and make decisions around a table at the local pub.
Kirk had now moved on to pushing the unknown object around on his plate, determined to eat the offensive item to prevent offending their hosts if need be, but he was obviously having trouble with its slimy green texture.
"I mean, is it even edible?" he repeated softly, desperately trying to glean some helpful information from Spock.
"Captain," he offered, leaning slightly towards the man on his right. "I do believe that is considered a garnish and it is not anticipated that guests would consume it."
Instant relief flashed through the Captain's brilliant blue eyes. He nodded briefly at Spock, silently thanking him for the information, before putting down his fork and returning his focus to the speaker at the front of the room.
The speaker's thirty-five minute speech during dinner had droned on about thirty minutes too long, in Kirk's estimation. Although obviously passionate about the peace that all present had been tirelessly working to attain, his speech far too often referred to the political agenda of his own minority party. No one from his own planet's majority party, much less the government of any other planet, would give his words more than a passing consideration. Yet, it was required that all be heard during the summit, no matter how fruitless their efforts.
Such was diplomacy.
The speaker finally wrapped up his closing comments fifteen minutes later, effectively closing the summit sessions for the day. Kirk clapped as enthusiastically as anyone else, thankful to be complete with his required duties. In reality, he was ready to jump out of his skin and was itching for the simplicity of fresh air.
Despite his attitude, which Spock was very well aware of, Kirk fulfilled his role as Captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise at these functions with all of the dignity, honor, and respect of his predecessor, Captain Christopher Pike. Spock was sure that even two years ago he would not have been as successful in these endeavors, but his Captain had matured and graciously accepted much more responsibility since the death of his mentor, as well as his own subsequent death and rebirth because of Kahn.
Indeed, his experience with death had changed him. Although he remained headstrong and impulsive, he was also brilliant and inquisitive and had since learned how to better temper the two extremes. Patience and mediation, never his strong suits, had now become useful tools, and his brash outbursts were now usually tempered by thoughtful wisdom.
He had also unknowingly formed an unbreakable bond with his crew. Dying to ensure their survival effectively endeared him to each and every one of them, all of whom would now die for him if necessary. Indeed, as word spread of his heroism, no one now thought of James Kirk with the same opinions developed during his early Academy days.
So it did not surprise Spock at all when Kirk made time for a young diplomat who approached them just as they were leaving the banquet hall. With relative freedom in his sights and fresh air at the tip of his nose, Kirk gladly turned and re-entered the facility at the young man's request to discuss Starfleet's policy on trade embargoes. He was empathetic, courteous, and gave the young man his full and undivided attention for the entire hour of their discussion.
When the young man finally rose to leave, he thanked the Captain profusely for his time and thoughts on the subject. Kirk merely smiled his brilliant trademark smile and nodded, saying, "That's what we do."
The walkway to their quarters was dimly lit as they walked together in silence. Kirk displayed a slight weariness about him that was somewhat concerning to Spock, but logic told him the Captain would only insist he was fine so there was no point in discussing it. The two often had long periods of companionable silence, however Kirk had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the entire ten day summit thus far. As such, it surprised Spock when he suddenly stopped in the middle of the pathway and tilted his chin to look up at the stars.
"She's up there somewhere, Spock."
Perplexed as to whom Kirk could be referring to, he could only answer, "Who is up there, Captain?"
"The Enterprise. I miss her." Kirk could feel Spock's quizzical look trained upon him, and he finally broke his gaze with the stars to meet that of his First Officer.
"Think about it, Spock, that ship has been our home for the last year. We've been on this rock of a planet for a week and a half now and…" he hesitated, debating whether his friend would understand. "I guess I'm just a little homesick. And I miss the rest of my family."
Spock gauged Kirk carefully, taking in his weary countenance and overwhelming desire for the summit to finally be over, and the logical pieces began to finally fit together. He had been so agitated because this is not where he belonged and not where he wanted to be. He belonged on the Enterprise, and it belonged in space. He had given his life for that ship and his crew, for his home and his family, and now he had been away from both for far too long.
"Nevermind," Kirk brushed it off with a wave of his hand and began walking again. "I didn't think you would understand, and it's silly, really."
"No, quite the contrary, Captain." At that Kirk stopped and turned back to face Spock. "I do understand. Despite knowing that Earth still exists as my technical home world, I have considered my home for the last year to be the U.S.S. Enterprise, and will thus consider it my home for the next four years as well. And I have deeply missed the company of Lieutenant Uhura while we have been on this planet. I have therefore surmised that I, too, am slightly unwell outside of the normal routine of my home."
Kirk's face broke into an enormous grin as he dropped his gaze and shook his head. "Spock, I love you man."
This clearly made Spock uncomfortable which, he suspected, was Kirk's intention.
"Captain...I, too, carry you in very high regard."
Another large grin broke from the Captain's face. "Well, at least tomorrow is the last day of the summit. If a war doesn't break out we can be back on the Enterprise in time for dinner."