*Update*

A/N: As you may have noticed, I have changed the title of this fic from "Breathe" to "High Times." I'm having too good a time writing Pothead!Spock to stop now, so I have decided to extend this into a series of one-shots, and I'd rather post them as one story rather than separately. I *do* have a few more ideas for what I call my "potfics" so I should be back soon with more (as well as with an eventual sequel to Inhibitions, which I assure you I haven't forgotten about, cannabis or no).

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. I wish I did, but I don't.

A/N: Nyota catches Spock doing something naughty. Established relationship. My first crack-fic, so let me know what you think.

Um... yeah... this idea for a one-shot has been bouncing around in my head for some time and I finally got around to writing it. This is not in any way connected to my other fics, and in this fic Spock and Nyota are already together at the Academy (I tried to write this as happening on the Enterprise, but I just couldn't see it happening that way).

If you are offended by "drug use," I suggest you not read this.

And considering the subject matter, it would be logical to expect some OOCness.

Dedicated to all of the cannabis fans out there!

Spock's Pot

It had been a long day. It seemed as if the cadets were behaving more illogically than usual in Spock's classes as the summer holidays approached, not listening to a word he said as they chatted amongst themselves about the upcoming vacation. He had found himself on the very edge of his control all day, especially when he reminded them that, although summer break was less than a month away, classes had not yet ended, only to be met with eye-rolls and head shakes as the cadets returned to their previous conversations.

There were times when Spock regretted accepting his instructor position, and that day had been full of them.

A nice, long meditation session was in order. He had plenty of time before Nyota would arrive for their weekly "date" that usually consisted of watching holo-vids or playing chess, and the inevitable sleepover that always followed.

Not even bothering to change out of his black Starfleet instructor's uniform, Spock immediately went from the front door to the meditation mat that was rolled up in the corner of the living room. He spread it out in the middle of the carpeted floor and set up the incense holders. Once that was done, he went to an antique cabinet that stood in his bedroom (a gift from his mother) and pulled out a small wooden box with the representation of a familiar green leaf etched onto the lid.

As he settled down onto the mat, he pulled a paper bag out of his pocket. He had gone that morning before class to replenish his supply - a stroke of intuition, it seemed.

A pungent, almost piney smell met his senses as he opened the bag and took out a plastic container. He had paid quite a few credits to obtain this from the best dispensary in San Francisco, and one look at the succulent, fluffy green buds told him it would be well worth the money.

Opening the wooden box, Spock pulled out the piece of glassware that resided within. Another gift from his mother, who had found that this herb helped her quite a bit to deal with being surrounded by Vulcans, and was very grateful that Spock had recommended it to her.

Reaching inside the plastic container, he selected a particularly delicious-looking clump of fragrant green flowers and leaves covered in tiny red hairs. As he pulled the bits of dried plant apart with his expert fingers, its natural aroma wafted through the air. He breathed it in deeply, already anticipating what was to come. After the day he'd had, he really, really needed this.

Spock packed the torn-up bud into the glass receptacle and reached back inside the wooden box for his antique lighter. Bringing the stem of the pipe to his lips, he covered the small hole in the side and touched the flame to leaf.

Once the ball of herb glowed bright orange, he moved the finger that covered the hole and inhaled. He held the smoke in for 15.5 seconds, the optimum amount of time for the best effect.

With a contented sigh, he exhaled. A large cloud spread over the living room, drifting in fascinating patterns around the light fixtures and furniture. He watched lazily for several seconds before lighting the pipe and taking his second draw.

While he did not approve of imbibing alcoholic beverages for the sole purpose of becoming inebriated, this activity helped him meditate and re-center himself. It afforded him a level of calmness and peace of mind he could find nowhere else. He had found it especially helpful once he became an instructor and needed to "relax," as humans termed it, at the end of a trying day.

Spock was considering taking a third hit before moving on to the rest of his meditation regimen when his door chime sounded.

He froze, the pipe halfway to his mouth. Nyota was much earlier than usual, but it could only be her. And while his actions were not illegal in any way and had not been for centuries, Spock had never told Nyota about this particular habit of his. It was a deeply personal thing for him; a spiritual ritual, he might say, and he did not know Nyota's stance on the subject. Many humans still disapproved of this 'drug'...

Spock shoved the half-smoked pipe, lighter and plastic container into the wooden box, and, knowing he did not have time to stow it away in the cabinet before Nyota used the authorization code he had given her to enter his quarters, he stuck it under a pillow on the sofa. He stood from the mat just as the door slid open.

"Why didn't you answer?" Nyota asked as she entered his quarters and kicked off her boots.

"I was in the middle of my meditation routine," Spock answered truthfully. Too late, he realized as Nyota entered the living room that he had forgotten to light the incense to mask the smell...

Nyota stopped dead in the middle of the living room, and he saw her nostrils dilate as she sniffed. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she regarded him.

"What's that smell?" she asked.

Spock's heart pounded in his side as he wondered if she would recognize the scent - and, if she did, what her reaction would be. But before he could reply, she shrugged and plopped down onto the sofa, the wooden box coming dangerously close to being dislodged from its hiding place.

"I must be imagining things," she muttered.

Relieved, Spock felt the tension drain out of his shoulders. Now that the danger seemed to be have passed, he could continue to enjoy the light buzz he felt in his whole body.

"Shall I make tea, Nyota?" Spock asked.

"Sure. And then we can go straight to bed, if you want. Not that we'll be getting any sleep for awhile, anyway."

Her smile was mischievous as she looked up at him. And then, to his horror, she moved to place her head on the pillow where he had stashed his stash. As soon as her head made contact, she frowned.

"What's under here?" she asked, and Spock watched, rooted to the spot, and Nyota sat up again and pulled out the box.

She stared down at the symbol on the lid. She glanced up at Spock, eyes wide. When he neither moved nor spoke, she looked back down and opened the box.

"Spock..." Nyota asked slowly as she picked up the plastic container, its contents clearly visible and unmistakable for what they were. "What... is this?"

Suddenly, Spock's voice returned to him. "It has been called many things in addition to its scientific name, Cannabis sativa: Marijuana, pot, weed, reefer, dope, ganja, herb, hemp - "

"No," Nyota cut him off sharply. "I mean, what the hell is this, Spock? How long have you been doing this?"

"I first partook of the substance eight years, one hundred and thirty-three days ago, when my roommate at the Academy - "

"But this is just an occasional thing, right?" she asked, glaring up at him as she took the pipe out of the box and brandished it at him.

Spock felt his spirits sinking, his buzz now completely gone. Nyota was angry. She obviously disapproved of marijuana. And now, he would lose her...

"I smoke it every day. It is a regular part of my meditation regimen," Spock admitted, his shoulders slumping.

"You mean to tell me..." Nyota's nostrils were flared, her dark brown eyes blazing up at him as she stood from the couch and shoved the pipe into his hands. "That we've been together for six months, and during that whole time you've been sneaking around, smoking dope? Every day?"

Spock felt heavy as he watched his soon-to-be former mate swell with rage, her eyes now flashing dangerously. He clutched the pipe tightly in his hand, wishing desperately that his roommate had never introduced him to the world of sticky icky and aromatic clouds of smoke...

"Six. Months," Nyota breathed, gritting her teeth together. "I never expected this of you, Spock."

Spock braced himself for what was about to come, his head hanging in shame. At least he still had a full ounce of marijuana to console him when she left...

And as he had expected, she finally exploded.

"SIX MONTHS, AND YOU NEVER ONCE CONSIDERED SHARING?"

Spock stared at Nyota in amazement. That had not been what he expected her to say.

Seething, Nyota began to pace the living room floor.

"I just had the worst day ever! A cadet ran into me in the corridor, and my PADD - which held all of my notes for my finals, by the way - fell out of my bag and was completely destroyed, and I can't find the damn back-up zip anywhere in my dorm! On top of that, Gaila is, right now, banging that pig, Jim Kirk, in our room. I actually walked in on them mid-coitus! And then I come over here only to find out that my boyfriend has been smoking weed for months without telling me, never even once considering the fact that I might need to relax every once in a while, too!"

She breathed heavily, her fists clenched at her sides. Spock stared at her, unable to speak. Then, wordlessly, he took the antique lighter out of the box that lay abandoned on the coffee table, and held it and the pipe out to her. Nyota scowled at him, but snatched the items from his hands and plopped down onto the sofa again.

"Damn sneaky Vulcans..." she grumbled as she lit the bowl and inhaled. She closed her eyes and released the smoke with a sigh. "That's better," she mumbled as she sat back on the couch. She then looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. "Come on. Sit down," she said, patting the space next to her.
"I admit that I did not expect you to approve of my indulging in this substance," Spock said as she sank down next to her.

Nyota waved her hand dismissively at him as she handed the bowl to him. "Spock, marijuana's been legal since the early twenty-first century. Who doesn't toke up?"

Nyota's bad mood gradually faded away as they passed the pipe back and forth, and by the time they were on their third bowl, she seemed quite relaxed. Spock himself felt pleasantly tingly in all his extremities, a dense fog clouding his mind. He had never smoked so much in one sitting before, and his body felt heavy as he sank back into the cushions, Nyota's legs now thrown over his lap as she laid back on the sofa.

"This is some top-quality pot, so I'll forgive you this time, Spock," Nyota said, her eyes closed. "But you really need to learn how to share."

While Nyota was by no means an unpleasant companion, the idea of regularly sharing his marijuana - the use of which was, supposedly, a spiritual experience for him - filled him with an unaccountable disappointment. He was accustomed to smoking by himself. It would be difficult to adjust to... sharing.

At that moment, both of their stomachs grumbled loudly. Removing Nyota's legs from his lap, Spock stood.

"I am experiencing hunger, even though I ate only four point three hours ago," he stated, swaying slightly before making his way through the smoky room to the kitchen.

"Ooh, bring me something to eat, too. I'm starving!" Nyota giggled as she sat up and struggled to light the pipe again.

Spock returned several minutes later with a bowl full of...

"Spinach?" Nyota asked incredulously, almost dropping the pipe as she gaped at Spock. "You get the munchies for frozen spinach?"

"It is not only very palatable, but it is very nutritious as well," Spock said, somewhat defensively.

Nyota wrinkled up her nose as she set the pipe down on the coffee table. Standing without a word to her Vulcan smoking companion and lover, she headed into the kitchen.

Spock set the bowl of frozen spinach down and followed her. He found her opening and closing the doors of his cupboards, then she turned to the cooling unit. When she opened it, she let out a low groan.

"Spock... you really need to consider stocking up on real munchie food, especially if I'm going to be smoking with you! All you have is vegetables... and more vegetables... some fruit... and more vegetables! Where are the Twinkies? The cupcakes? The salty potato chips that are a heart attack waiting to happen?"

She turned to him with a long-suffering expression on her face. "I love you, but I hate you right now."

"I apologize if my store of edibles is not satisfactory," he replied stiffly.

Nyota rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the arm to lead him back out to the living room.

"I guess spinach will have to do. I'll remember to bring some real food when I come next time."

They returned to the sofa, where Spock sat down and Nyota sat on his lap. Picking up the pipe, she lit it again and took a hit before leaning in close to him, her lips soft against his as she blew the smoke into his mouth. He was unfamiliar with this method of obtaining marijuana smoke, but complied readily; once he had inhaled, Nyota's lips caressed his gently in a kiss, her hands cradling his face as she pulled him closer. Her heart beat rapidly against his chest, her breasts pressing against him deliciously, her skin cool to his touch as he rested a hand on her bare leg.

"You know, Spock," Nyota breathed as she began to kiss a line from his jaw to his neck. "Marijuana heightens all experiences."

"Indeed?" he asked, closing his eyes as she began to nibble on his earlobe.

"Yes," she whispered against his ear. "And that includes sex."

"I have never experimented with it," he admitted.

Nyota pulled away to give him a pitying look. He raised an eyebrow.

"That can be corrected," he added, his voice a low rumble as he tightened his hold on her.

And as he picked a giggling Nyota up and carried her into the bedroom, the spinach long forgotten on the coffee table, Spock decided that perhaps having a smoking companion would not be so bad after all...