Seven of Swords: Deception, Betrayal, Mind Games, Plotting
"You don't actually expect me to believe that, do you?"
Captain Kirk narrowed his eyes, and leaned forward, elbows on the table. Wearing an expression of relaxed nonchalance, the lines around Kirk's eyes betrayed the red alert going off in his head.
"The underlying logic is sound," Spock replied coolly. "Whether you believe it or not is of no concern to me. The truth does not require belief. Whether you choose to act on truth or irrational disbelief is not within my control." Micro-expressions glimmered across Spock's face, as loud to Kirk as if he had yelled obscenities at him. Supercilious amusement. Passive aggressive challenge. Pure, unabashed cockiness. "I have learned to expect nothing of you. Captain."
Kirk stared intensely at his opponent. Spock shifted his gaze languidly from the Captain to his glass. Placid, bored, lackadaisical. Almost theatrically so. A spark flashed behind Kirk's eyes.
"I don't believe you." He shifted his weight backwards, off of his elbows, back into the seat, shaking his head with confident incredulity. "I don't believe you."
Spock rolled his eyes, and his head along with them. Glancing askance at his incorrigible Captain, Spock replied in a tone matter-of-fact, and, to Kirk's ear, carefully revealing no hint of annoyance.
"Explain."
"I don't have to explain anything, Mister Spock. You are the guilty party here. I can feel it. Something isn't right. You aren't telling me the whole truth. I don't believe you."
"Captain, I will not presume to debate with you - again - on the importance of defending your position with logic and with evidence where applicable. You have proven that you are quite capable of doing so, and therefore I must logically infer you have ulterior motives. Following this sequence to its rational conclusion necessitates me to turn the accusation back onto you."
Spock tilted his head in an inflammatory fashion, raising his eyebrows in provocative challenge.
"Fine. You want to play it that way, you got it, Mister." Kirk curled his top lip, ever so slightly. Spock didn't flinch. At least, not visibly.
"Your statement is obviously untrue. All evidence points to it being untrue, and, despite your arguments, in fact because of them, logic itself would demand that you are lying to me." Kirk tapped his forefinger against his lips.
"But you are smarter than that, aren't you, Spock? How long have I known you? Two years? Two and a half? You haven't spent all that time around me and not picked up a thing or two. You knew I would follow your sequence of events flawlessly, that I'd be on the alert for inconsistencies. You are using my caution against me. Trying to use it against me. Deliberately constructing a logical fallacy, hoping I'll notice it and fall straight into your trap. But…" he pointed a finger at Spock, voice lilting.
"But… you are smarter than that, too. Because you know that I'd know that you were lying. And you'd know that I'd know that, too." He smiled humorlessly.
"That's what you want me to think. You want me to recognise your obvious falsification as such, and, logically come to the conclusion that you were double-bluffing. And that you are, therefore, in fact being honest with me. Lying in order that I'd believe you were telling the truth. It's an impressive play, I'll give you that." The smile dissipated.
"But I'm not buying it, Spock. I don't trust you." Kirk's eyes burned into Spock, willing him to just come clean, to give up on this ridiculous, futile power play while he had the chance. "I don't know what game you think you are playing. But you forget that you are playing the master. You can't con a conman, buddy."
Kirk glared across the table. Spock gazed impassively back.
"Illogical, and unnecessarily emotional."
Kirk's expression hardened. Lips taut. Eyes full of fire. He held Spock's gaze in this fashion for several moments, silently interrogating his friend-turned-enemy.
"That's all you have to say for yourself?"
Spock held fast.
Suddenly, Kirk's features softened. He smiled, full of charm in that deceptive way Spock had so frequently seen their enemies misjudge to their downfall. The Captain wore the smile of a crocodile. He began to doubt his own judgement. This was, after all, Captain James T. Kirk he was up against...
Kirk moved his head in a beckoning gesture, and Spock had to make a conscious effort not to acquiesce and lean in closer. Kirk's eyes lit up like a forest fire.
"Well then, Spock. It seems we are at an impasse. I don't trust you. You don't trust me. Neither of us are willing to attack, both unwilling to retreat."
Spock inclined his head, cautious, preparing for the move he was expecting in spite of its brazen foolhardiness.
"If you are about to take the action I anticipate, I must warn you against it." Spock said, an edge creeping into his steady voice. "There will be no turning back from this point." His dark eyes glittered like an iceberg in the face of an oncoming ship. "I am compelled by my moral principles to advise that you reconsider. You will regret it."
Kirk smirked rakishly, wildly, silently yelling try me, punk. He placed his palms face down on the table, shoulders and jaw set square. Hazel eyes met ebony, fire meeting ice, blade matching blade. Kirk hesitated only for a split second before crossing their own personal rubicon.
"Cheat."
Spock didn't move. Unless you count the flexing muscle in his jaw as he clenched his teeth.
"Spock. Perhaps you didn't hear me. I said Cheat."
Spock sighed as he slid his hand to the stack of cards on the table between them. He glanced up at his eager Captain and saw anticipatory triumph dancing across his endearingly lopsided smile. Spock turned over the top card.
King of Hearts.
"WHAT!?"
Spock raised his eyebrows and didn't say "I told you so." Jim stared, mouth agape, eyes darting from card to Spock to card and back again.
Spock cast his eyes down. Although he was (not that he would never admit it) quite pleased with himself for winning their game in such a spectacularly conclusive fashion, deceiving his Captain, and his friend, didn't sit too comfortably with him. Even if that was the explicit and primary concept of the game. He swallowed down the irrational emotional reaction and tried to ignore it.
Jim, meanwhile, was still trying to figure out the sequence of events which led to his catastrophic defeat.
"But…" He shook his head in disbelief. "That's… not… You already played two Kings, and I have the other two in my hand… It can't..." He kept on staring at the card, as if it would somehow mutate under the sheer pressure of his will. "You sneaky, cheating, son of a bitch… I can't believe you…"
Spock winced internally. He shouldn't have played to win. He shouldn't have played at all… But Jim had been so insistent that this was his favourite childhood game, and please couldn't they play it one evening… Spock had never been able to deny any of his Captain's requests. Even if they required him to engage in deception, subterfuge, and wilful betrayal.
Sensing movement, Spock looked up.
Jim was beaming at him from across the table. The corners of his mouth were pulled into an upside-down smile, struggling to contain his unrelenting surprise and amusement. The inner points of his eyebrows were pulled up and together in dumbstruck awe, creating a look of kitten-like vulnerability. Golden-hazel eyes shone with unabashed and unrestrained affection. Spock's eyebrows drew together, minutely.
"Spock… You beat me!" Somehow Jim's expression managed to intensify. Spock felt the vague and irrational sensation that his friend might spontaneously combust. Or go supernova.
"I haven't been beaten at this game in… ever! And you beat me. You thrashed me! I was convinced, Spock, utterly convinced! You are…" Jim shook his head in awe, unusually lost for words, "...phenomenal."
Spock didn't know how to reply to that. Jim just kept sitting there, staring at him, eyes disconcertingly full of wonder, and Spock was at a loss to explain why. Humans (and this perplexing, this fascinating human in particular) still managed to set him on the back-foot with their unpredictable, irrational reactions.
But the whys notwithstanding, the emotional warmth spilling across the table was almost tangible, and Spock found himself compelled to bask in it, illogical and un-Vulcan as that was. He allowed his gaze to meet Jim's, and felt his own heart begin pounding a little faster in the face of such open, unrestrained adoration. Illogical. And yet...
"Why dontcha take a holograph, it'll last longer?"
Spock snapped out of his pseudo-hypnotic reverie with a start. Jim grinned up at the interloper.
"Bones! Spock just beat me at Cheat! Spock beat me! Can you believe it?"
Mccoy rolled his eyes without malice, and laughed at his enthused commanding officer.
"Well now, that is surprising. Especially as I was under the impression Vulcans couldn't lie."
Jim shot a conspiratorial glance at Spock, insider amusement dancing across his features. Spock kept eye contact for only a second before clearing his throat, trying to avoid letting his discomfort at the entire situation show; not in front of Mccoy of all people. Spock wouldn't give him the gratification.
"Logic is not dogmatic prescription. As with all things, Doctor, case by case discretion is necessary; logical decisions reached by comprehensive analysis of particular situations are more logical than blind adherence to a proscriptive ideological aphorism."
"Uh-huh. And I suppose it was a logical decision reached through logical analysis to lie, cheat, an' scheme your way through a child's card game, just to amuse your immature Captain?"
Spock glanced at Jim. With absolute Vulcan honesty and integrity (and with a dash of Vulcan sarcasm, and a barely-suppressed bucketload of human affection), Spock raised one eyebrow and replied,
"Unquestionably."