Disciplinary Authority

by: darke wulf

Disclaimer: I don't own them. I'm not making any money from them.

Written for a prompt at the kink meme. Don't think it was quite what the OP was hoping for, but my muse was insistent.

Sarek stalked purposefully through the corridors of the Enterprise, scattering crewmen in his wake. Though his face remained an emotionless mask, it was clear that he was a Vulcan on a mission.

In the three years since his Amanda's death he had attempted to become more understanding of his son's dual nature. Spock's humanity was a gift, the last and most precious given by his Amanda, and Sarek had done his best to encourage their son as she always had.

And so on those admittedly infrequent occasions when his son expressed emotion, or participated in behavior unsuitable for a Vulcan, Sarek did his best to not appear judgmental – to reassure Spock that he would always be… loved.

He could not leave the latest behavior he had witnessed unaddressed, however.

Arriving at his son's quarters, Sarek requested entry. When no reply was forthcoming, he again pressed the comm., wondering what was keeping his son. He had confirmed his location before coming, so he knew that Spock was in his quarters –

Finally the door opened, and Sarek – familiar with his son's expressions, slight as they were – observed Spock's face turning from annoyed to surprised to alarmed to resigned in the space of a few seconds.

"Father," he greeted stiffly, nodding his head and stepping back to allow Sarek entrance.

Sarek took in his son's appearance. He had apparently been preparing for the evening's diplomatic dinner – no doubt why he had not answered his door chime sooner. He was dressed in a long, black Vulcan robe, though it was only haphazardly fastened, and his hair was slightly askew. He also seemed slightly breathless, and Sarek took a moment to wonder if his son was suffering from an illness – that would perhaps explain his previous actions… but surely if such were the case Spock would have sought medical attention?

"Of what service may I be, Father?"

"Are you unwell, Spock?"

Spock's head tilted in question – a look so reminiscent of his late wife that Sarek felt pain flare in his side. "No. Currently I am in optimal health. If I may ask, what motivated this question?"

"Spock, I am… disappointed in your actions this morning. Your behavior towards your captain was most unseemly."

Spock froze, then came to attention, standing stiffly with his hands clasp behind his back.

"Captain Kirk is an honorable man," Sarek continued inexorably. "He has shown himself to be an excellent leader and skilled diplomat. He deserves the respect and esteem that his station merits. And yet you stood today on his Bridge, in clear hearing of his crew, and addressed him with only insolence. You demeaned him, deliberately misinterpreted the human idioms he used, and acted in a manner which brought disgrace upon you and our House."

"I had thought we had raised you to behave in a more appropriate manner. I must admit, I find myself illogically tempted to turn you over my knee in chastisement for this immature behavior."

"That won't be necessary, Ambassador."

Sarek turned to the familiar voice. It was only years of practicing control that prevented him from showing his abject surprise. Moving into the living area from behind the sleep screen was James Kirk, but a decidedly underdressed version.

The man was shirtless, golden skin and rippling muscles on clear display. Sarek absently noticed a handful of scars spattered across Kirk's torso, though they in no way detracted from his aesthetic appeal. He was adorned in black leather pants, tight enough at the top to leave nothing to the imagination, gradually loosening as they stretched towards the floor. His feet were also bare, and Sarek had a moment of certain insanity as he contrasted such small, dainty appendages with the strength and presence exuding from the human.

"Jim…"

"No, Spock. This will not continue," Kirk spoke firmly, stopping between Sarek and Spock, though off to one side, and crossing powerful arms over his chest as he glared imperiously at the elder Vulcan.

"I am afraid, Ambassador, that you are operating under a few misconceptions. The first, that Spock's behavior was in any way inappropriate. I admit, I was surprised he felt comfortable enough to behave so playfully in front of you, but I assure you that was all it was. Your son being playful, teasing one he considers a… friend. My crew is well aware of that – your second misconception – and they know just how deeply Spock does in fact respect and yes, even care for me. He has proven that time and again over that last three years.

"I would remind you, Ambassador, that your son is half-human, and the behavior you witnessed today – which you found so improper – was merely him engaging that side of himself. An action that should never be considered anything other than proper."

Sarek found it irrationally difficult to meet the fiery blue eyes before him, burning in their defense of his child.

"My apologies, Captain, Spock. I should not have assumed…"

"You're right. You shouldn't have. Spock is a remarkable being – the best of Vulcans and Humans. He could not bring disgrace upon any House."

"Indeed," Sarek agreed, uncomfortably shifting slightly in spite of himself. It appeared he still had some ways to go in his attempt at becoming more accepting of his son. He found himself… comforted… by the obvious acceptance this human showed his child, however.

"Though I suppose I should thank you for your attempts to defend my honor – misplaced though they might be." Kirk shrugged one bare, golden shoulder. "So thank you."

"It is of no consequence, Captain. But, if I may inquire… you mentioned several misconceptions on my part. While you mentioned two, typically when a human uses the admittedly unspecific 'several' in terms of quantities they are referring to at least three -"

A wicked grin stretched Kirk's face, nearly causing Sarek to take a step away from him.

"You are correct, Ambassador. The third misconception you had was that you are in any way shape or form still responsible for disciplining our dear, dear Spock."

Kirk moved to his son's side, throwing an arm around his shoulders and drawing him close while his expression turned stony, daring Sarek to say any word of disapproval.

"That, you will find, is now my privilege."

The arm around Spock drifted down, until Kirk's hand could run proprietarily over Spock's posterior.

Sarek did not miss the slight wince his son gave at the contact. Nor did he neglect to notice the way Spock – face flushed in embarrassment – leaned into Kirk's touch.

"Ah. I… I see. Again I… apologize." In the back of his head, Sarek could almost hear his wife's tinkling laughter at the situation he had walked into. Once again – as it had over ten thousand times since her passing – his broken bond flared in pain. "I will… leave you to your… activities."

"Thank you." Kirk responded, still regarding Sarek with suspicion. And not unreasonably, Sarek knew. As nearly always when his son was concerned, he had found himself uncomfortably in the wrong. It was not something of which he was proud.

Sarek forced himself to meet Kirk's disapproving eyes. He might still not know how to interact with Spock, but he was still his son, and he did… love him.

"You will take care of him," he demanded of the human, knowing his meaning would be understood.

Kirk's other arm came up to embrace Spock, drawing him close into the protection of his hold. Spock's own arms settled around Kirk's hips, his eyes downcast though he turned his head towards Sarek from its place in Kirk's shoulder.

"Always."

Sarek regarded the two for a long moment, then gave a slow nod. "I will hold you to your word, Captain." Straightening, he formed the Ta'al. "I expect I will see you both at the dinner scheduled for this evening?"

"Of course," Kirk affirmed, still holding Spock close.

Sarek gave another nod. "Until then." With that he departed, doing his best to ensure that none of his internal turbulence showed on his face.

Though he could not prevent the stumble when his sensitive ears picked up Kirk's voice – a sinful purr that would have surely tempted Surak himself – address his son just before the door slid shut behind him.

"Now then, baby… where were we?"