Puppies!
Chapter One
McCoy was 1000% done with Kirk's shit. They'd left the transporter room not hours before, and now here they were, having finally been beamed up from the surface of that godforsaken planet, all soaking wet and in the possession of a very excited puppy and a very drugged captain. And now he was going to have to put up with Spock (hurrying over to the pad in his "subtle Vulcan" manner) fussing over Jim until he had been cured three times over. Not to mention that it was a particularly potent truth drug, which meant that all the inner workings of his captain's brain, which he'd tried desperately to avoid, would be-
"Doooooctor Bones," came a slurred voice, "Remember how I said your nose wasn't sexy?" Kirk drunkenly leaned closer, and, in a stage whisper that the entire damn ship could hear, said, "I lied."
This had to be the worst. Day. Ever.
...
"Other than the obvious judgement inhibiting effects of the toxin, he's in perfect health."
Spock wasn't so sure. He'd studied a plethora of "truth" drugs, few of which had no adverse effects, and he would not allow the captain's safety to be compromised. For the ship. Clearly.
"Doctor, it would only be prudent to review the results once more. Perhaps-"
"We've already done all the tests twice, Spock. And did I ask for your opinion?"
"You did not, but as I am the resident science off-"
"Ladies, ladies, please. I feel fantaaaastic. Like that one time, you remember, Bones, in the telephone booth with the-"
"Goddammit, Jim. Stop strangling the puppy and shut up."
"Goddammit, Jim, sir, and the puppy is just fine!" The captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise put on his best wounded-yet-handsome face and clutched the small dog to his chest. It squirmed helplessly.
"Spock, you take it," grumbled McCoy, lifting the damp ball of fluff from a hopelessly inebriated Kirk's arms and thrusting it into the first officer's. "You can manage to take care of a puppy, right?"
"Certainly, Doctor," replied the Vulcan, looking rather miffed. In his suppressed, yet distinctly sassy way, of course. He handled the tiny grey husky with distinct unease anyway, holding it at arm's length until finally giving up hope that Nurse Chapel would save him and gingerly placing it properly against his chest.
"Take him back to his room and figure out what to do with that thing," said Bones, gesturing to the dog. "And Jim?"
"Yes, Doctor, darli-" he was cut off by a hypo to the neck. "Stop it!"
Not a chance in hell. Hypo-ing his captain was the best part of McCoy's day.
…
Only Spock's impeccable discipline kept him from continuously casting surreptitious glances Kirk's way as they made their way towards his quarters. Most of the time. No such social conditioning inhibited the captain at the moment, however, as his gaze was locked on Spock. It unnerved his officer to no end.
"Captain, is there a problem?"
He mumbled something that to Spock sounded curiously like, "I'd tap that," but as Spock hadn't the slightest clue as to what it meant, he let it go. The captain was clearly focused on other things now as he watched Lieutenant Uhura walk by.
"Hey, girl, come here often?" Uhura just shook her head and smiled (knowingly? not probable) at the pair as she strode past them, datapad in hand.
"Man, I got a thing for leather boots. Leather boots and pointy ears. Hey, I'm hungry. Can we have some food? I'm craving a hamburger. Or meat of any kind. Or sex. Sex or food. Which one? Oh, puppy!"
And there, reflected Spock grimly, was the core of the human drive. Reproduction, food, and aesthetically pleasing animals. If his upbringing allowed for such emotive displays, he would have released the most long-suffering sigh Kirk had ever heard. Instead, he handed over the puppy gratefully. It pawed at the open air for a moment before Kirk got ahold of its small body. Spock's mind faltered a moment.
...pointy ears? Leather boots and...pointy ears? And what had he meant, "a thing"? They turned a corner and found themselves at their adjoining quarters. Kirk continued walking, oblivious.
"Captain. We have arrived."
"What? Oh. What's my passcode again? Oh, right. Wait-" He shifted the dog to the other hand and typed the sequence into his keypad, barely paying attention when the door opened in favor of stroking the small animal.
"I'm naming him George! Unless you think I should name him Valet Parking. You know, like that one time with the Romulen ale and the stapler and-"
Spock could not express quickly enough how much he did not want to hear the rest of that story. Placing his hand on the small of Jim's back, he guided the other man into his quarters with rather un-Vulcanlike haste.
"Hey, I'm tired. You don't- I'm really..." He breathed in slowly and squinted his eyes accusitorily. "Bones. Bones did this, I hate hyposp...woah, look, Spock, it's a bed."
"Yes, Captain," replied Spock dryly.
Kirk stumbled onto the mattress with impressively bad coordination, George by his side. The puppy yelped, but found solid ground, and circled a few times before settling beside a seemingly passed out Jim Kirk. Spock began to head toward the door, wondering absentmindedly about this strangely affectionate side of Jim when he was drugged and around puppies.
"Don't hafta be jealous of George, ya know."
Spock turned back towards his captain quizzically.
"S'okay," he slurred. "He's fluffy, and you're grumpy, and a little bit broken, but you're still my family. I'll still take care of you."
"Captain...?" Kirk smiled into the pillow, happy that the matter was resolved.
"Will you stay?"
Spock was endlessly wished the Captain would make more of an effort to make sense sometimes. As for now, he was passed out on his bed mumbling nonsense, still damp and intoxicated from the disastrous away mission, next to George, the Enterprise's new puppy.
Spock stayed.
Chapter Two
Cobalt blue eyes returned Spock's gaze, eerily similar to his captian's. He shifted his weight awkwardly, uncertain why he was holding a squirming husky puppy for the second time in twenty-four hours. Puppies made him uncomfortable, with their constant neediness and tendency to get themselves into dangerous situations or, worse, urinate on important things. Like children.
"Captain-"
"Hold still, Spock!"
He turned toward where Kirk was standing amidst a gaggle of female officers, holding a small silver device.
"Are you taking a picture?"
"No, that one's blurry. Take another," ordered Leiutenant Uhura, paying no mind to Spock's predicament. Rather put out that so many people were staring at him, but not one would listen, he tried again.
"Captain, I fail to understand the meaning of this activity, as- Captain. Captain, if you would refrain from-"
McCoy snickered.
"Got it!" A dozen officers leapt forward to take George off of the first officer's hands, cooing in a very unprofessional way. Spock was unsure as to how his lunch break had ended so strangely, but ever since the puppy had been brought aboard, he was the center of attention. Kirk brought him everywhere. Spock was not sure that his captain wasn't still in a state of inebriation.
Leiutenant Chekov was in possession of the small animal now.
"He is so wery cute, don't you think, Sulu?"
"Yeah. Yeah, he is." Sulu wasn't looking at George.
Spock nearly jumped at Kirk's sudden presence next to him.
"Do you think he's lonely?"
"Captain, as I'm sure you've noticed, he is surrounded by-" Spock was cut off again. He was beginning to think that he wouldn't ever actually finish a sentence as long as George was around.
"Yeah, yeah, I know, but doesn't he need animal company or something?"
"I do not know much about dogs. It is plausible." Spock immediately wished he could take it back.
"Hmm," said Kirk.
This was shaping up to be Spock's most illogical day ever.
…
The rest of the day, however, passed surprisingly logically. The captain made a few thinly veiled sexual jokes. The CMO stated adamantly that he was a doctor, not a stripper. Pavel stared at Sulu. Sulu stared at Pavel. Kirk was quite professional until after his shift, whereupon he became an average twenty-something male. Everyone loved George and no one would listen to Spock. Uhura would not cease to cast glances at Spock whenever he was with the captain.
It was this last development that put the first officer on edge. For this time, he was sure, the glances were distinctly knowing. It disturbed him, but he stayed silent.
It was just, that, well. There were many years and life changing experiences between this Uhura and Teenage Uhura. There was a world of maturity that separated her now from her past. But she couldn't help it- she shipped them. She'd witnessed their badly concealed longing glances, the "subtle" way that they watched each other work during their shared shift, and their deep concern for each other. One might even say that the ship sailed itself.
But her fangirl days were behind her. She was a professional aboard one of Starfleet's best vessels. So all she did was watch, because she couldn't help it.
Waiting for them to get together was just so much fun.