He was wandering in a desert that stretched as far as the eye could see. No water, no shade, not even a trace of a breeze, and it felt like he had been walking for hours already. Didn't these things have oases somewhere, or at least mirages? He would settle for a mirage at this point, even if he came to his senses with a mouthful of sand.

He had just crested the top of a dune when a sinister voice sounded from right behind him.

"Thought you could get away, did you?"

It was a camel with Bones' head, clutching a hypospray in its teeth.

That was weird, even by the standards of dream-land.

A dream. The sudden realization made the desert and the unholy chimera melt away, and Jim woke up with surprising ease. But he was still way too hot. The heat pressed in all around him, enough that breathing was more difficult than usual. The sheets underneath him were soaked with sweat.

He opened his eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling, and noticed immediately that the bed – not his bed – had another occupant. That kind of thing was mildly alarming when he didn't remember taking anyone home. He turned his head slowly and gaped at the sleeping Vulcan next to him. The room got even hotter.

Oh, right. It all came back in a rush. The Malosha conference, that one diplomat with the lisping monotone, the day that never freaking ended. Mistaking Spock's room for his own in an exhausted daze.

Somehow his hand had worked its way under Spock's pillow. Well, at least they weren't spooning or something. He wondered if he could get up and duck out without disturbing his unlikely bedfellow, but Spock's face brought an unexpected halt to his plans. He looked relaxed. Spock was always so aloof, both on and off duty, that this peaceful version was nearly unrecognizable.

Jim put aside the discreet escape problem and idly started to examine Spock. He told himself it was for payback's sake; Spock was constantly studying everyone on the crew, whether or not they knew it, and had a habit of using it to fuel his subtle insults.

With Jim's arm providing the contrast, and the lights that were probably on an automatic timer, Jim could easily see the faint olive tones in Spock's skin. He had nice skin, now that Jim thought about it. Nice hair too, even with that silly Vulcan style. Jim let his gaze drift along Spock's chest and stomach, and it drifted a bit more.

The blanket was draped low on Spock's waist, so low that it brushed just under one hip before trailing off the bed behind him. Jim abruptly dragged his eyes back to Spock's face before they could wander any farther. There was no way in hell he had almost eye-raped his first officer. No siree.

He was just a little curious about the biology of Vulcans.

Then Spock stirred right on cue, as if he had a pervert alarm. Jim's heart pounded and he fixed his gaze on the ceiling, switching on his practiced innocent look. In his peripheral vision he saw Spock open his eyes and stare at him for a long moment. "'Morning." Jim said.

Spock lifted his head slightly and glanced above Jim's chest. "It is approximately fourteen hundred hours."

"Oh. Never mind, then." Jim frowned, and it occurred to him that he couldn't remember when the conference had finally ended. "How long…"

"Twelve point one four hours."

Jim couldn't resist. "What's five-hundred thirty three times eight-hundred sixty?"

"Four-hundred fifty-eight thousand–"

Jim was expecting an incredulous eyebrow quirk, not an answer. He held up a hand to cut Spock off. "I was just trying to make a point."

Spock shot him a strange look. "Your point escapes me, captain."

"That you act like a calculator."

And there was the eyebrow quirk. Jim grinned, and for a fraction of a second, he thought Spock was going to grin right back.

But suddenly Spock seemed to become aware of his current state of undress. In one swift motion he snatched the blanket and yanked it to his chin. He proceeded to stare at the corner of his pillow as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"I said it last night and I'll say it again. Prude." Jim fought the urge to poke Spock in the chest. Why he had the urge to get all touchy with Spock in the first place was beyond him.

"Captain, I do not agree that desiring to maintain a certain degree of modesty qualifies me as a 'prude.'"

"Sounds like something a prude would say."

Spock opened his mouth to retort, then frowned and seemed to think for a moment. He peered at Jim reproachfully. "You are teasing me."

"Absolutely." And with that, Jim found himself wanting to pat Spock's shoulder. Dammit, there will be no touching of the naked first officer! He shifted and tried to untangle his feet to distract himself. Sometime during the night he had thrown off his half of the blankets, and they were bunched around his ankles. "Sorry I sweated so much."

Spock did that thing where he shrugged using only his eyes. "You have no control over your autonomic nervous system. If you had not done so, you would have overheated and gone into shock."

An uncomfortable silence ensued. Jim had experienced his fair share of strange situations, but so far this was trumping them all. It occurred to him that bridge duty together wouldn't be quite the same for weeks now, if ever. At least he was refreshed, and he didn't feel like killing the next Maloshan he saw. In any case, he had overstayed his welcome.

"So half a day, huh? And I didn't wake up once. That's the best I've slept in a long time." Jim shimmied to prop himself up against the headboard, getting ready to high-tail it out of there. "Maybe I should wander into your bed more often."

He honestly hadn't meant for it to sound like that, but it was too late; the awkward levels immediately shot up to critical, and Spock's shoulders seemed to stiffen in response. "Umm, I mean… you know." Smooth. He scrambled for an excuse and tried again. "It's just nice having someone around when... when you're sleeping."

Especially you, his brain added. Wait, what the hell was that? He quickly pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He got up before his mouth could do any more damage and fished his shirt off the floor, which turned out to be more tangled than the laws of physics could have predicted.

"I also slept well." Spock said after a minute, and paused. "But unlike you, I was awakened several times." There was something about his tone that was almost accusatory.

"How come?" Jim looked up from his battle with the shirt.

"You repeatedly... you were…" Spock trailed off and hesitated. Was it Jim's imagination, or were his ears turning green?

Oh God, please let him say 'snoring.'

"I believe the term is 'spooning.'"

...Damn it.


If you can spot the TOS reference, you get a cookie.

Also, thank you all so much for the lovely reviews! They make me do ridiculous little dances in my chair. Sorry to those who wanted sexytiems, but I had planned on keeping this T from the beginning. I'll put up something M eventually. ;)