Five times Spock did something illogical, and the one time he didn't (but was thought to).
As this is my second, you should know that I'm a relative noob when it comes to Star Trek fanfiction. So, even though this is done in the (pretty) popular 5 + 1 format, I've no idea if it comes from any kink memes, or prompts. I apologise, however, if it's been done before.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, in any or all of its numerous shapes and forms.
Warning: Slash. You know you love it.
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5.
When Spock opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of the ceiling of the Medical Bay. He was not so acquainted with it as he was the rest of the Medical Bay, seeing as the reason he was usually there – and he was there often - was because of the Captain. While that was indeed the same reason he was here now, the key difference was that he was the one who had been injured, this time.
He wondered why he had done what he did.
Stiffly, the Science Officer turned his head, and caught sight of the Captain, slumped over in his chair, forehead resting on the biobed Spock was occupying. Spock usually did not welcome such closeness, but he made a concession, just this once. Especially considering that Jim had made an effort – his hand was clenched in the sheets, just centimetres (41 millimetres, actually) away from Spock's own hand.
Spock didn't know if it was a conscious endeavour on the Captain's part. He appreciated it, all the same, seeing as humans had even less control over their emotions (as unlikely as that sounded) when they were asleep. Judging by the slump of Jim's shoulders, and the fact that his gold command shirt was the same, blood-spattered one he'd been wearing earlier, it was likely that he had fallen into exhausted slumber keeping vigil over Spock's bed.
This was extremely illogical, and Spock disapproved. Although it was likely that Leonard had relieved them both of duty, humans needed more rest than Vulcans. It was improbable that Jim had gotten even the minimum amount, as he was quite stubborn, even to the extent of frustrating the Chief Medical Officer.
Speaking of...
"Ah, Spock, you're awake."
The first few minutes was spent in perfectly professional interaction. Once the good doctor was satisfied, he placed his PADD on the bedside table and crossed his arms. The body language was somewhat antagonistic.
"Now that that's done – what in the Hell were you thinkin', you hobgoblin?"
Despite the hushed tone – Jim was still asleep – it was definitely hostile.
Spock sat up, his movements slower and stiffer than they usually were. Had he been human, he would have put it down to not wanting to jostle the bed and wake his Captain. This was, admittedly, a contributing factor, but a small one. He knew he had been severely injured.
"You will have to be more specific, Doctor."
"Dammit, man, you know exactly what I'm talking about! You've lectured Jim so many times about how illogical it is to throw himself in front of you, and now you do it!"
Spock refrained from commenting that he was not a 'man', he was half-human and half-Vulcan. He also stopped himself from remarking on the way Leonard tended to spit out the word 'illogical' like it tasted foul in his mouth. The former was because he knew it would infuriate Leonard further, not something he wanted, and the latter because he disliked using metaphors.
"I am the First Officer, Doctor. I judged that the Captain was in danger, and –"
Leonard interrupted him, brows furrowed in a way that managed to suggest that he would be shouting, had it not been for Jim.
"Spock, if you hadn't been a hero, that damn spear woulda stabbed Jim, sure, but he ain't got a heart in his side! You, you godsdamned Vulcan, do!" The CMO took a deep breath that seemed to do nothing to soothe his temper. "So I'm gonna ask you again; what in the Hell were you thinkin'?"
Spock turned his head away and broke eye contact. His gaze found itself focused on the still-slumbering Captain, his hand clenching in the cloth so tightly that his knuckles were white. Softly, he answered.
"I do not know."
4.
"Captain Kirk, your behaviour was inexcusable. You clearly disobeyed direct orders, and compromised any chance of Starfleet establishing a base on Alamir."
"With all due respect, Admiral," said Jim, without any respect whatsoever, "My orders were to try to get the Alamirians to agree to the treaty Starfleet came up with. Clearly, they disagreed."
Though it was clear that the entire bridge crew was listening in on the conversation between the Admiral and the Captain, they were professional enough to mask it by continuing about their normal activities. Only Spock had left his station, standing one foot behind the Captain's chair, and at a 35° angle.
The Admiral did not bother to mask the anger in his voice. "Don't play coy, Kirk. You know full well that the signing was merely a formality. The Alamirians sent their people to negotiate the terms – we sent the Enterprise, because as the fleet's flagship, we expected its Captain and its crew to give a good impression and cement relations between Alamir and Starfleet. We were mistaken, obviously."
Jim's hands had tightened on the armrests of his chair – Spock was briefly thought it fortunate that there was an absence of buttons or interactive screens in that area – but it was so slight a movement, there was only a 1.3 percent probability of the Admiral catching it. Jim's voice remained level, however.
"My crew performed admirably, sir. If you want to find fault, find it with me."
On the screen, everyone could see the Admiral's lips thin. (Everyone here refers to Jim, Spock, Sulu and Chekov – who were by default supposed to be looking in that direction anyway –, and those who managed to catch a glimpse in the corner of their eye or from under lowered lashes.)
"Oh, I am," said the man, and his face took on an expression of carefully feigned regret. "It's such a pity. Admiral Pike assured me that you had potential as a captain. After this, I don't see your career in Starfleet as being very long."
One of the Lieutenants dropped their stylus. Other than that, no one made any move that was out of the ordinary. The tension, however, could have been cut with Sulu's fencing blade.
"I want to know why, Kirk."
Looking back on it, Spock would not be able to adequately explain his reasons for stepping forward at that exact moment. Both the Captain and the Admiral stared at him.
"It was my suggestion, Admiral."
He looked flabbergasted, but quickly smoothed his expression into a more professional one, although surprise still lingered in the wideness of his eyes and the slight rise of his eyebrows. "Your suggestion, Mr. Spock?"
"Yes, Admiral."
Jim looked like he was about to protest, but Spock merely turned to him. Somehow, the Captain 'got the message', and closed his mouth. He didn't bother masking his confusion, though.
"Explain."
"The Alamirians were shockingly rude, Admiral, and not a one of the crew sent planetside was exempt from their slurs. The Captain conducted himself commendably in spite of this. However, after a particular insult against Lieutenant Uhura, I surmised something was amiss. I approached the Captain, and we both managed to determine the actual hierarchy of the Alamirian society. As it is Starfleet regulation to object to and stop slavery, I concluded that it would be prudent to break ties with Alamir. The Captain naturally agreed. Needless to say, the landing party was not very appreciative of our decision."
There was utter silence on the bridge. Not to say it'd been noisy before, no, but there had been a certain amount of hushed activity. Now there was none at all.
"You mean to tell me, Mr. Spock," the Admiral said, sounding disbelieving, "that this was your idea?"
"Affirmative."
He turned to look at Jim now, who'd luckily gotten his astonishment under control. "Is this true, Kirk?"
"Yes, sir. But, I didn't want Spock, or anyone else to get in trouble because of it." He shot his second-in-command an annoyed look that may or may not have been feigned. Spock never did find out, nor did he have an inclination to.
There was a cough. "Well, this changes things. I will...I will have to discuss with the rest of..." he trailed off, looking like he was re-evaluating his paradigms. He cleared his throat when he realised that the line was still active. "There will definitely be repercussions to this, gentlemen. I can assure you of that."
"Yes, sir."
"Acknowledged, Admiral. We will have the reports ready for Starfleet within the hour."
"Very well."
The line was terminated and questions asked, but Spock remained enigmatic as always. The reports were duly sent in, and the 'repercussions' turned out to be several routine missions (Jim called them 'milk runs'), and Jim's captaincy remained his captaincy.
For the life of him, Spock couldn't pinpoint why exactly that relieved him.
3.
"You are truly remarkable, Captain, to have achieved so much at such a young age."
A laugh. "It's mostly luck, really. And I've got a crew that's kick a – I mean, really good."
"So modest, Jim – may I call you Jim?" It should have been impossible to purr the name.
"Sure, Princess."
"Call me Kel." An odd request. Then again, the Captain could not keep referring to the Princess as Kelerrlith Dra-lortur Chrsheng. Not without risking insulting her.
"Anyway, thanks for throwing this banquet, Princess. It's too much." Clearly, the Captain's diction when dealing with royalty was to be addressed. Again.
"It's the least I could do, Jim." Eyelash fluttering. Perhaps something had gotten into her eyes? But this species had inner eyelids to prevent such a happening. "Officially, anyway."
"We were just doing our jobs."
"Oh, but we are in gratitude." Lowered voice. "I am in gratitude."
A laugh, again. More nervous, this time. "You're, uh, you're welcome, Princess."
"Call me Kel!" A swat on the arm that was probably playful, seeing as the hand was not removed. "In fact, I'd like to...show you just exactly how grateful I am." Surely there was no need to decrease the distance between them? Merely increasing the volume of her voice would solve the problem.
"I couldn't possibly, Princess –"
Interrupting another person midsentence – he was led to believe that that was discourteous. Not that it had stopped the humans he had met. Jim and Leonard in particular, and especially if they were conversing with each other. It served to amuse more than annoy, in their case.
"It's no trouble, Jim." The action of glancing at another from under lowered lashes – that was categorised under seducing, no? "In fact, I'd go as far as to say that it'd be my pleasure."
No reply from the Captain. He had picked up his drink.
"Wouldn't you like a tour of my chambers, Jim?"
Even with a tenuous (at best) grasp of the subtleties of human (well, humanoid, in the Princess' case) interaction, that was an obvious proposition.
"I don't think that would be a good idea, Princess." Firm. Leaning away slightly, but not enough to offend.
Smile just a tad wider, perhaps slightly forced. "You would not regret it, Jim. Few do."
"Princess, I am a Captain of Starfleet. It would not do for me to fraternize –" Jim always grew more formal when in his 'Captain Mode'. Those were his words, of course.
"Oh, but you'd be improving relations, Captain."
It was fortunate that Jim had placed his goblet back onto the table. His jump was violent, almost propelling him out of his chair. Away from the Princess, who looked most satisfied.
"Princess Kelerrlith."
She looked up. Blinked, this time with her inner eyelids. "Commander Spock."
"I believe that we have overstayed our welcome. We are appreciative of your hospitality, but the Captain and I are required aboard the Enterprise."
Narrowed eyes. Irritation. "I'm sure Jim can stay for a little longer."
"I can decide for myself, I think." He attempted to stand and extricate himself from the Princess, but she merely rose gracefully to her feet as well, hand still on his arm.
"Then may I have a tour, Captain? I'd love to see your ship." Again the purring quality to her voice. Perhaps it was a trait native to the Princess and her people.
"I do believe that is impossible, Princess Kelerrlith. The Captain is very busy."
"Why don't you let him decide for himself?" Furrowed brows, and definite glaring. There was probably no point in pointing out that she had not followed her own advice.
Jim opened his mouth, presumably to say something that was offensive, but he was silenced (as he had been countless times before) by a single look from his First Officer.
"Princess, in case it has not been made clear to you, perhaps due to inattentiveness on your part, the Captain has made it quite clear that he does not wish to engage in a romantic liaison with you. Furthermore, your actions, should the Captain wish to pursue charges, can be taken as harassment of a member of Starfleet. Under Federation law, of which you are now subject to, you would face up to a year in a penal colony, depending on the severity of the harassment. I, of course, would be more than willing to testify in favour of the Captain."
Open-mouthed surprise. It was easy to pull Jim out of the Princess' now slack grasp.
"If you will excuse us, Princess."
They did not wait for acknowledgement. As they walked, Jim seemed a little resentful.
"I could've taken care of it myself, you know."
"Yes." Indeed, Spock could not comprehend why he had come to Jim's defence in such an aggressive way. Inasmuch as he could be aggressive, of course.
They had exited the main building in which the feast had been held, and continued walking to the designated area to be beamed up. Apparently, the building materials of this world were not compatible with the transporter.
"Thanks, though," Jim said, grudgingly, sometime into the silence that had descended between them.
"Gratitude is illogical, Captain," Spock stated simply, and he knew that he was meant to see the human roll his eyes. "However, Jim, I do recall an...an adage that Leonard has mentioned previously that may prove fitting."
"And what's that?"
"I believe it was..." Spock hesitated, unsure whether it was appropriate in the circumstances. "'Bros before hos'."
Jim's laughter did not die down even after they had been beamed onto the Enterprise.
2.
"You know, talking about it might help."
It was the anniversary of the Narada incident. Starfleet had extended its condolences, and several, if not most, of the crewmembers had looked at him with varying degrees of pity in their eyes. Nyota had squeezed his arm in the Mess during breakfast. Leonard had been less overbearing than usual, which was saying something. Sulu and Chekov had been more subdued when they'd arrived for their shift.
In fact, the only one who seemed unaffected was Jim. Or he had been, until now.
Spock decided to feign ignorance. "Talking about what, Jim?"
He snorted. "Don't even try. We both know what day it is. The anniversary of the day hundreds of Starfleet officers died, the anniversary of the destruction of Vulcan, and the anniversary of the death of your mother."
If he had been fully human, he would have flinched. As it was, his fingers trembled imperceptibly as he reached for his remaining rook. "Vulcans do not make it a point to confide in others, Jim."
They played a few turns in silence. Then Jim captured a pawn, and said, "You're half-human too. The offer still stands."
Despite the temperature of the room being quite cool (it was a compromise between the two of them), he felt himself grow warm, especially around the region of his side. An illogical reaction to a simple statement. He didn't reply, and instead tried to lure Jim into a trap to capture his queen.
Five moves later (still unsuccessful in his endeavour to capture Jim's queen) he said, so softly his Captain almost didn't hear him, "She was a teacher."
1.
"If that is all, Mr. Scott?"
"Actually, might I ask yeh for a favour, C'mander?"
Spock merely inclined his head slightly, keeping his hands clasped behind his back as was his usual practice. The Chief Engineer absently rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Spock did not deign to comment on the smudge of lubricating oil left behind. (Perhaps this was due to the odd sense of humour only Jim usually understood.)
"Could yeh pass a message onta the Cap'n? Only, I tried callin' him direct, but he's got a transmission goin' on or summat."
"What is this message?"
"Well, I made th' modifications to th' Silver Lady, like I said I would. Th' Cap'n always wants ta see how they work, so if yeh could pass it on, when'ver he has th' time..."
Spock had been present for the majority of these modifications, which were actually only 34 percent of the original suggestions the Chief Engineer had put forward. Scotty's requests were, more often than not, rather superfluous. Spock would prefer the more experimental ideas to be carried out nearer to starbases, despite any and all of Scotty's rationalisations and Jim's arguments.
"This is not an urgent request, then?"
Scotty shook his head, grinning in the carefree way he did. "Nah. Anytime's fine."
"Then I will take my leave, Mr. Scott."
"See ya, Spock."
As he walked the corridors to the turbolift, Spock wondered if the Chief Engineer had known that he would be joining Jim in his quarters for their usual game of chess, or was merely banking on the fact that their quarters were side by side. He'd arrived on the appropriate level, and decided that it was of no consequence. He entered his own quarters first, allowing his shoulders to relax a bit at the increased temperature. He replaced his shirt, because he believed in being presentable at all times, and moved back out into the hallway. Even though Jim welcomed the use of their adjoining bathroom for visiting (he often made use of it as a walkway himself) Spock did not feel entirely comfortable with doing so.
Jim probably would have added a 'yet' to the end of that sentence.
"Who is it?" Jim's voice came over the intercom, clearly enough to discern the annoyance lacing his tone.
"It is me, Captain."
"Spock!" The door immediately slid open. All traces of annoyance were gone, replaced by suppressed laughter – but why? "I keep telling you to just use your override codes, or come in through the bathroom, or something."
"That would be discourteous, Captain," Spock stated, walking into the premises.
"It's you, Spock," replied Jim, as if that explained everything. He turned his head, smiling and beckoning. "Anyway, come and say hi."
There was only one person from whom a transmission would evoke such a response in Jim. So Spock was not surprised when he approached the desk and saw the face of his older counterpart.
"Ambassador."
"Spock."
For some reason, Jim always seemed to find it amusing that their mannerisms more often than not mirrored each other. Spock did not understand the reaction; they were essentially the same person, of course their traits would be similar. Not the same, though; the elder of the two was freer with his emotions in a way that Spock would never allow himself to emulate.
"Uh, what time is it?"
"It is 2253 hours, shiptime, Jim."
He let out a low whistle, a skill that Spock himself had never bothered mastering. "Hadn't realised we'd been talking for so long."
"Indeed, Jim, had I known you were busy, I would not have taken up so much of your time."
"Busy? Oh, no, Spock's just here for chess. You don't mind if we reschedule, right Spock? I mean, I know we've been at it for hours, but, you know."
Spock did not know; both what Jim was alluding to, and what the feeling that was blossoming in his side was. He ignored them both, to be analysed at a later date, and found himself saying, inexplicably, "In point of fact, Jim, I am here to deliver a message. Mr. Scott would like you to inspect the changes he has made to the Enterprise."
"What, now?"
"He implied so, yes."
If Spock had been looking at the viewscreen, he would have seen his alternate self's knowing look. As it was, he was looking only at Jim as the Captain smiled wryly, so the point was rather irrelevant.
"Well, it isn't like I won't be able to call some other time. So I'll see you around, old man." It was not difficult to compare and contrast the smile he'd given Spock Prime to the smile he'd given Spock upon his entrance. What Spock wanted to know was why he had taken the trouble to do so. Compare, I mean.
"Indeed, Jim. Spock." The elderly Vulcan held up a hand in the traditional greeting. "Live long and prosper."
Both the Captain and his First Officer said their farewells before Jim terminated the line. He stood and clapped Spock on the shoulder, an action he had obligingly gotten used to.
"C'mon, then, Spock. If I can't talk to one of you, I'm having the other one with me."
It was only later, as Jim gleefully asked questions to an equally gleeful Scotty, that Spock acknowledged the warmth in his side at those words were not due to temperature fluctuations of the ship. And it was only after meditating that he was able to determine his earlier actions were due to jealousy.
He still, however, did not know why this was.
+1.
"You kissed me."
"Yes, Jim." Spock found no difficulty in making the admission. It would have been irrational to deny the action after doing it.
He had not entirely expected this turn of events, though. The Captain was looking more agitated than he had before, if that was even possible. He let out a slightly hysterical laugh.
"You know how illogical that is?"
"On the contrary, Jim. After due consideration, I concluded that it was the most logical step to take."
"Oh, really?" Spock was 87 percent sure that that was sarcasm. "Do enlighten me, Mr. Spock."
Though he knew that Jim usually only referred to him as 'Mr. Spock' when annoyed or angry, he felt it prudent to reply.
"I will not deny that you have gone through many distressing incidents as the Captain of the Enterprise. However, you cannot tell me that the happenings today were not particularly trying."
Jim looked like he was about to interrupt here, but Spock quelled him with a look. The Captain may have refuted it all he liked, but Spock had seen the sheen of sweat on the human's hands, had seen the unshed tears in his blue eyes, had felt the tremble of his lips against his own.
"In my studies of human interaction, kissing is an acceptable way of offering comfort to another. Seeing as the only two beings you allow close to you are Dr. McCoy – with whom you have a strictly platonic bond with – and myself, it was clear to me that I would be the best choice to carry it out."
In spite of himself, it seemed, Jim was amused. The corner of his mouth was turn up slightly, but he still wasn't looking at his Science Officer.
"A hug would've been fine, wouldn't it?"
"You embraced me earlier, Captain, and it seemed to be insufficient."
Spock was constantly fascinated whenever Humans blushed. The fact that they had iron-based blood had always been odd to him. It was fitting that Humans found his green blood 'weird'. Leonard never failed to pass a comment on the 'unnaturalness' of it.
"Still. You're a Vulcan Spock – you've always hated it when people touch you."
"There is a reason for that, Jim. Vulcans are touch telepaths. It is quite uncomfortable for Vulcans to have to deal with the emotions with others. This is why we minimise contact, as even a split second is sufficient."
The blood had drained from Jim's face, leaving him pale. It was an intriguing reaction, especially right after the blushing.
"...and?"
"And in the more recent times you have touched me, I have managed to detect a particular emotion, the identity of which eluded me constantly. But I have discerned it quite recently, and I have had it confirmed today, after the –"
"So what did you discern?" Jim asked nastily.
"I felt your attraction to me. But more importantly – you are in love with me."
The Captain went still. This was a feat, as Spock had rarely, if ever, observed him not fidgeting – tapping a foot, biting his lip, something. He'd even stopped breathing, or at least it was so shallow that it was imperceptible. Spock took a step forward, concerned for his Captain's health, which broke the spell on Jim, who rapidly stepped back until his calves hit his bed, glare on his face.
"So what if I do, huh? What're you gonna do with that info?"
"I kissed you, did I not?"
"Oh, so you feel sorry for me now, do you? That whole thing, that was a sacrifice on your part, wasn't it?" Jim wasn't shouting, but his harsh whisper seemed to convey his anger better than a raised tone could.
"Hardly, Captain. If you were Vulcan –"
"Yeah, yeah, if I was Vulcan then I wouldn't be breaking down like a teenager, and you wouldn't have had to sully yourself, and –"
Spock held up a hand. "Jim, let me finish. If you were Vulcan, you, in turn, would have felt my love for you."
There was again, that frightening stillness. Then Jim let all the air in his lungs out in a whoosh, and sat down heavily on his bed. He put his head in his hands, and said, mumbled, really, "No, no, no, this is some kind of dream..."
Spock took another step towards Jim, but paused, uncertain as to what he was supposed to do. He placed his hands behind his back. "Jim, I can assure you, this is not a figment of your imagination. I can understand how you would come to such a conclusion, with the amount of stress you have undergone today. Nonetheless, I would like to reiterate; I did not kiss you in a misguided attempt to 'sully myself'. I kissed you because I am in love with you."
The man shook his head, voice muffled by his palms. "No. There're no logical reasons for you to...be in love with me." This last was whispered, proving that Jim still did not believe him.
"There are several reasons, both logical and illogical, that helped me make that epiphany. I do not regret it."
Jim looked up at him. "Spock," he said, voice pained. "Please don't lie."
"Vulcans do not lie."
A snort. "Yeah. They imply."
Spock saw an opening. "My older counterpart has recently enlightened me as to the real nature of the relationship between him and the Jim Kirk of his dimension. They were T'hy'la." At Jim's inquiring look, he elaborated. "It is a Vulcan term; they were friends, brothers, lovers."
Jim put on a mask of indifference that Spock saw through in a second. Maybe it was due to the hope in his eyes. "What happened in the old man's dimension won't necessarily happen here. We're different."
"I brought up that point during our discussion. The Ambassador then replied that there are constants in every dimension. I am inclined to agree with him."
"Of course you would," Jim muttered. "He's you."
Spock ignored this. "We are in love, are we not?"
"Do you know how weird it is to hear you say that in that emotionless voice of yours?"
He cocked his head to the side slightly. "I am uncertain of your meaning."
Jim stood and slowly, slowly approached Spock. "This...this is crazy, Spock."
"Are you not fond of undertaking 'crazy' pursuits?"
There was a hint of a smile in the curve of his lips. "Yeah. You got me there." He'd stopped, their chests barely inches apart, staring up into the dark eyes of his First Officer. "You...you're serious." It wasn't really a question, but Spock decided to answer.
"Yes."
Jim tentatively put his arms around the Vulcan, and only when arms came up around him in turn, he let himself sag into the warmth of Spock, let himself nestle his face into the crook of his neck, let himself close his eyes and sigh. He felt Spock press a soft kiss into his hair, felt the brief tightening of the arms around him, felt him whisper the word "T'hy'la."
In time, there were more kisses. There were arguments, and there were nights (sometimes mornings or afternoons) where words were not necessary. There were bondings, both Vulcan and Terran. There was joy, and sorrow, and horror, and anger, and there was love. In time, they would have years to be happy together.
But now, they stood together, gold and blue.
End.
OoOoOoOoOo
A/N time! Right, I should let you guys know that I have a rudimentary knowledge of the Star Trek universe at best, so any errors etc are unintentional. Alamir is made up, as is Princess Kel. Yes, I realise I made Spock use slang. I do not regret it. And I do admit it got a little mushy towards the end. I apologise, but, meh. I like it.
Yes, that's a butchering of the script right at the end.
Review, dears!
Alien.