Chapter 1

No one had ever been able to pin a thing on him, the goddamned Vulcan bastard. How do you get away with murder? By going about it very logically. Everyone knew what was going on, but the hell if anyone could prove it.

In the past five years, Spock, the reserved son of Ambassador Sarek, had risen to become one of the richest, most powerful men in the Federation. No one had any concrete evidence, but it was obvious that opposing the Vulcan could have deadly consequences. Quite a few of his competitors had disappeared over the past few years or had inexplicably retired at what had been the prime of their careers.

No one was talking, but the total lack of evidence was evidence enough for Jim Kirk, ace reporter for the Daily Enterprise. Jim had tried to get his editor, Chris Pike, to assign him to do an expose, but there wasn't enough solid evidence to give Spock a parking ticket, let alone a felony charge. Jim was left investigating in the little spare time he had left at the end of the day.

His partner, Nyota 'Don't Call Me Anything But' Uhura, ragged on him constantly about his obsession. Calling it his 'man crush' and demanding to know why he didn't just admit that he had the hots for the alien.

Okay, so maybe everyone didn't know what Kirk knew down to his bones- that Spock was a bad egg. Even Jim's contact on the force, Detective 'Bones' McCoy, couldn't find anything and he was the best detective there was. "Sorry, Jim, I don't like the pointy-eared bastard either, but his record is squeaky clean."

The only one who seemed to believe him was the paper photographer, Pavel 'Something-or-another' Chekov. But then, the kid was seventeen and believed just about everything Jim told him. The incident with the Silly Putty and the garbage disposal had been hilarious.

No, Jim's intuition was sadly underappreciated and Pike had told him that if he whined about Spock one more time he would be doing the astrological section for a month. 'Dear Cancer, be aware that Venus will be moving into the house of the rising sun and that yellow will never be your color…'

It was enough to drive a grown man mad, Kirk thought as he sat at his desk editing the copy on the story he had just completed for the Friday edition. Like anyone cared about the seasonal influx of aphids that threatened rose gardens everywhere…

"Kirk!" Pike shouted out from his office, causing Jim to jump in his seat.

"Aye, Sir?" It amused Jim to treat his editor like the captain of a star ship.

"Get in here, I've got an assignment for you." Pike said before disappearing back into his office.

Kirk grabbed a padd and went into Pike's office. "So what's the job?"

"It's your lucky day, kid; Mr. Spock is holding a press conference at Starfleet about the new warp drive engine his company has just developed. This will boost him from being one of the richest men in the galaxy to being the richest man in the galaxy. I want you to take Chekov to cover the conference and get pictures for the article."

Pike paused and looked directly at Jim, "I do not want you asking questions about one of your conspiracy theories. You are there to observe only. I will not have you embarrassing this paper. I am hoping that this conference will show you that Spock earned his money the old fashioned way—with hard work and by having a better product than the competition.

"Why, just last year he won an award from the Vulcan Science Academy for his innovations in computer programming. His inventions sell like hotcakes, kid—that is why he is a trillionaire. So do we have an understanding, Mr. Kirk?"

"Yes, Sir." Kirk said with his fingers crossed behind his back.

"Good, then you are dismissed. I expect good results from this mission." And sometimes it suited Pike to play the Captain as well.

Kirk walked out of the office, he had a Russian teenager to find.

*&^%$#

Spock looked out from behind the curtain at the crowd that had gathered for the press conference. This was not his favorite part of his job, but publicity was important…especially 'good' publicity.

"Mr. Sulu," he said as he turned towards his personal assistant. "Everything is ready to go, I trust?"

"Yes, sir." Sulu said as he looked down at his padd. "The conference is scheduled to begin exactly at four and Mr. Scott has reported no problems with the audio visual presentation."

"Satisfactory." The half-Vulcan replied. He looked out into the crowd again, wondering if his favorite 'nemesis' had arrived yet. Spock had been sure to send a special invite to the Daily Enterprise. He knew Kirk wouldn't be able to resist. The reporter amused and intrigued him. The man could plainly see what so many overlooked due to his heritage.

Everyone knew you could trust a Vulcan, but he wasn't a true Vulcan, was he?

He knew he was a disappointment to his father; he had been unable to control his emotions as a child, and the more they made him try, the less he wanted that kind of control at all. The true dividing point occurred when he refused to bond with the girl his parents had chosen for him.

She hadn't been right for him and he could feel it deep in his bones. Never mind that bonding was the 'logical' thing to do…Vulcans-practically before emotion. What did it matter if you liked the person you would be attached to for the rest of your life?

Something in Spock had snapped and he refused to bend to that sort of insanity. Other Vulcans saw him as a barbarian, and a throwback to the time before Surak. Spock saw other Vulcans as hidebound traditionalists who wouldn't know an original idea if it bit them on the ass.

He was rich and successful while they made quiet advances. They could make great leaps forward if they put their minds to it, but that would involve wanting to do that, and want was just a useless emotion like all the rest. There was no ambition on Vulcan.

But Spock had ambition, and Spock wanted. If he wanted something, he didn't see the need to deny himself if he could get it in his grasp…and there were very few things he couldn't get into his grasp.

Right now, there was something inside him that wanted the reporter—something that saw a true rival…or equal.

And there he was, pushing his way up the very edge of the stage, determined to have the best seat in the house. He drug along a boy with a camera who looked just a bit overwhelmed by it all. It was obvious that it was all he could do to keep up with Kirk.

Spock allowed himself a small smirk before smoothing his face into an emotionless Vulcan mask. Had to keep up appearances, didn't he? The lights dimmed in the auditorium and the reporters took their seats. At precisely four, and not a moment before, the curtain opened and Spock walked out. Showtime.