A/N: whew. Seriously, can't even tell you how pleased I was to see the nice reviews so soon. If you couldn't tell from the first chapter, I was a little worried about posting. I just couldn't get it right and what I ended up with was ok, but I could've done better. As it was, I had to post or I'd still be tweaking it. But to get the reviews praising and offering advice was nice. Also, I promise I'm gonna work on my writing and formatting more, so it flows better. I think that was part of the problem last time. Anyway, here's chapter two.

It was illogical. No, more than that, it was completely implausible. And yet, there it was; indisputable proof standing in the kitchen in a t-shirt and jeans as opposed to uniform, with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his feet bare.

James T. Kirk had not only awoken before Spock, but he was in the kitchen, making breakfast of all things. Not just replicated breakfast either, but fresh from the oven, just made bacon and eggs and pancakes. He had his back to Spock as he scrambled the eggs in the pan then tipped them onto a plate. Jim blinked in surprise when he turned and saw his first officer standing on the stairs, observing him. Spock noted that Jim's shirt read, of all things, "Breakfast Not Included".

"Morning Spock! I, uh, I made breakfast. Um, yeah, I found some fruit and stuff in the fridge. Do you like watermelon, grapes, things like that?" Jim untied his mom's red and white gingham apron from around his waist and tossed it on the counter.

"That will do fine Jim. Thank you," Spock finally took the last few steps and sat down at the small, scrubbed wooden table. Jim nodded, almost to himself more than to Spock and picked up the two plates, setting the one piled high with chunks of melon, grapes and orange slices in front of the Vulcan with a set of utensils.

"You want anything to drink?" he asked from the fridge. There's juice…apple juice apparently." He looked over to see Spock incline his head, indicating, despite having a mouthful of food, that juice would be fine. Jim grinned at him and poured him a glass of juice, while he made himself chocolate milk. He'd had it programmed into the replicators aboard the Enterprise, but there was just nothing like making it yourself. Not to mention, he could sneak licks of the chocolate syrup if he wanted, which he did very much.


"Captain, if you continue drinking the chocolate syrup like that, you will not have any to mix into your milk."

Jim turned his gaze up to Spock's, unaware that he had thick syrup trailing sluggishly from the corner of his lips. Spock arched his eyebrow, wondering how the other man even managed to dress himself, let alone captain a star ship.

"Didn't I tell you it was Jim while we're on leave? I'm not being a captain here." Jim seemed to realize that he had chocolate on his face and was trying in vain to lick it off.

"It is your house, correct?"

"Yeah," Jim gave up and just grabbed a napkin to wipe his face.

"And I am your guest here?"

"Spock, would you just make your point?"Jim proceeded to stir his chocolate milk until the syrup had blended in.

"Does that not make you in effect, the captain here? It is your house and you are allowing me to stay. That would put you in charge," Spock answered, spearing a grape on his fork and biting it.

"Fine, you've made your point, and it's a good point, but really? We're on leave, we're supposed to be having fun, relaxing, y'know, vacation type things. We're friends here, not colleagues and that means I'm Jim to you."

"Very well Jim," Spock answered, managing to sound as though he was humoring the other man without changing his tone. "May I ask a question?"

Jim nodded while slurping down half his chocolate milk through a straw.

"Why does your shirt read 'breakfast not included' when you did just make breakfast?"

"Oh. Well, you know…" Jim trailed off, smirking meaningfully.

"No, I do not know."

"For one night stands. Sometimes, they want breakfast in the morning, and I'm telling them straight off that they won't get it with this shirt. It's meant to be funny," he answered as though it was the most obvious thing. He looked down at his shirt. He thought it was funny.

"I see," the science officer looked pensively at his now empty plate. "And yet I just received breakfast, did I not?"

Jim choked on the slice of bacon he had just been gnawing on. "Jesus Spock. Look, you understand what a one night stand is, right?" He looked up at the other man, who was watching him with a touch of what might have been concern. Jim cleared his throat and took another drink, waiting for him to answer.

"I have knowledge of the practice, but no actual firsthand experience."

Well thank god for that, Jim thought. He could only imagine what trying to explain that would be like. No doubt the Vulcan would find it illogical. Or maybe he'd find it logical; the whole trying to build the population aspect was sure to make sense to him, even if most other people only saw it as a way for quick sex with no strings attached. At least, there weren't supposed to be. Jim could attest to that, that there were instances where occasionally the partner got it in their head that there was more to it than there was.

"Listen, just go with me that it's supposed to be funny and leave it at that." The last thing he needed was for the ever inquisitive Vulcan to try and decipher the nuances and meanings in his shirts. "Anyway, speaking of clothes, is that all you brought? Stuff manufactured by Starfleet?" Jim nodded towards Spock's crisp black shirt and pants, which had an air of formality about them, while he gathered the dirty dishes and placed them in the sink.

Spock gave a slight nod, failing to see the issue. Jim sighed before jogging upstairs to his room. To him, there was just no way Spock could enjoy shore leave when he was looking all uptight and proper in his Starfleet issued clothes. So, he rifled through his clothes and found a plain shirt and some jeans and just had to hope they fit.

"Here, try these on," he said, tossing the bundle of clothes to Spock, who merely looked at him before going back upstairs.

"I do not understand why I had to change," Spock murmured as he came back to the kitchen. He pulled at the hem of the shirt, which was slightly too big through the shoulders on him. "I was comfortable in what I'd been wearing."

"But if you get these dirty or ripped, it's no big deal," Jim answered, reminding himself that he had to clean up the kitchen. But later; right now, he was amusing himself by watching Spock try to get used to the new clothes. "And there's a pretty good chance they'll get ripped or stained, seeing as I'm going to show you around the barn today. C'mon." He went out the screen door, and held it for Spock.


"See, when I was just going to be me here for two weeks, I knew what I was going to do. I was going to be lazy, maybe go out and cruise the bars, that's it. Now that you decided to tag along, I've gotta play host," Jim continued heading towards the big, faded red barn.

"Not that I'm not grateful for company, I mean, I'd have probably gone a little stir crazy and started talking to myself by the end of the week. I'm just not sure how to be entertaining with company. So, I figured showing you around could work, right?"

"That seems logical," Spock agreed. He stood next to Jim in the entrance to the barn, surveying the large, open space. The floor was covered in hay, loose piles of it or neatly tied bales stacked against the wall. The rafters loomed above, with a wooden ladder reaching up and a rope hanging from a beam with a knot tied into it. Sunlight filtered through an opening in the roof, showing dust motes floating in the air. Three horses whinnied softly in their stalls, and a large yellow tabby cat slunk out of the shadows to inspect them. She meowed and rubbed against Spock's leg.

"Hey there," Jim crouched down, holding his hand for the cat to sniff. "You must be the barn cat mom told me about." The cat nuzzled his hand, purring loudly.

"Barn cat?"

"For catching mice," Jim answered. "Mom told me her name's Pancake. I guess she has a thing for licking pancake batter out of the bowl when mom makes them." Pancake arched her back and nuzzled against Spock, meowing plaintively. "She likes you," Jim grinned. "She wants you to pick her up."

Carefully, Spock lifted the cat, who settled into his arms like she belonged there, a feline grin on her face. She flicked her tail and purred even louder. Jim chuckled, scratching the cat under the chin. "Y'know, it's probably because your body temperature is higher than a humans. I bet to her, snuggling up to you is like a spot by the fireplace." He looked up to see Spock gazing down at the cat, and he swore he saw the corners of the Vulcan's lips twitch just slightly. "You have any pets when you were a kid?"

Spock glanced up to meet Jim's gaze. "I did have a sehlat, a creature native to Vulcan. It was similar in appearance to an Earth teddy bear, only it was alive and in possession of a set of fangs." He returned his attention to the cat who was grooming herself, licking her paw and rubbing it over her ear.

"Ooohhhkaaay…teddy bear with fangs. Right." Jim turned away, craning his neck up to look at the rafters. There had been a game he and his brother had played when they weren't helping Frank; all he had to do was hope the rope was still strong enough.


Spock's eyebrow neared his hairline as he watched Jim start to climb the ladder, which creaked in protest. "Jim, what are you doing?"

"Me and George used to do this, hang on." Jim reached the top of the ladder and crawled out onto the beam. He looked down to see Spock standing on the edge of a big, deep pile of hay. He wasn't sure, but he thought Spock looked worried. "Watch this," he yelled.

"If only to ensure you do not kill yourself."

Laughing, Jim pulled up the rope and held it at the base of the knot. With a deep breath he slid down and swung free, kicking his legs to propel himself. He saw Spock following his progress, and laughed again. His arms were straining, but it felt so good to put them to this kind of exercise once more. He bent back and pushed himself forward. He couldn't wait to land and show off, to show Spock he was perfectly fine. Maybe he could talk him into it.

The rope jerked in his hands, and let out a horrible creaking groan. Jim barely had time to think Oh shit when the rope unraveled and broke and sent him falling very fast down to the hay. Dust and straws of hay flew into the air as Jim struggled to dig himself free. Over his sneezing, he heard a faint sound, quickly stifled but unmistakable.


"Spock, did you just laugh at me?" Jim cleared hay from his face and saw the Vulcan's eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter and his lips were definitely turning up. "You did!"

"I apologize Jim. However, it has been my experience that when one's friend insists on making, as Doctor McCoy would say, and ass of himself, it is only logical to express humor at one's friend, provided of course they are unharmed. You are unharmed, correct?"

"Just a little bruised, some hay up my nose, nothing…" Jim stopped, shaking. He let out a yelp and frantically reached behind him. A mouse was dangling from his fingers when he pulled it out of the back of his shirt. "Ew!" he flung it across the barn, and Pancake leapt from Spock's arms to give chase. "Other than that, yeah, I'm unharmed." He saw Spock rubbing the back of his hand, and noticed bloody trails there from the cat when she'd gone after the mouse.

"You ok?" Jim got to his feet and went over to him. Green blood was starting to drip down his hand steadily. "Do you mind?" Jim asked, his hand hovering over Spock's arm. He knew the Vulcan was big into personal space and he didn't want to intrude. Spock nodded and offered his arm stiffly. Jim held his hand up and examined the scratch. "Doesn't look too bad, but we should still bandage it." Jim tugged on Spock's elbow and led him back to the house.


"Sit," Jim motioned to the closed toilet lid and Spock did as asked. Jim pulled open the cabinet, digging for a bandage and some antiseptic cream. "Hold out your hand," he said, and started to clean off the drying blood. Spock stiffened in his seat, keeping his gaze averted. He swallowed thickly as Jim dried his hand and spread a bandage over the scratches, smoothing it over the skin.

"There, that should do it," Jim threw away the blood stained cloth and glanced down at Spock. "What's wrong now?" he asked, taking in the faint green blush on Spock's cheekbones and the tips of his ears.

"A Vulcan's hands are," Spock cleared his throat, "very sensitive. I should have mentioned it."

"Uh-huh. So, you're saying you liked that?" Jim leaned against the sink, smirking.

"Thank you for bandaging the scratch Jim." Spock stood and sidestepped out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, sure. No problem," Jim answered absently, watching Spock's retreating form. He snickered; the tips of those pointed ears were still bright green. It was almost endearing, though he'd never say so out loud. If Bones ever heard him…he could only imagine the look on the doctor's face. He already had almost had an aneurism when Jim had told him that some of the younger female cadets often discussed, in hushed giggling tones, the attractiveness of himself, Spock, Bones, Chekov, Sulu, and there was one who had a real thing for Scotty. Shaking his head at himself, Jim strolled out of the bathroom and into the living room.


"Hey, hey, no. Out of the chair," he ordered, standing with hands on his hips. Spock looked back at him from the old leather arm chair. "That's my chair."

"I do not believe I see your name on it," Spock answered coolly.

"Oh yeah? Up," Jim ushered him from the chair and pulled the lever that lifted the footrest. He slid on his back underneath it. "Come here," he waved his hand for Spock to follow. After much shifting and sliding and cursing from Jim, they were underneath the footrest.

"Look right there," he pointed to one of the small wooden beams holding the frame together. Carved in childish script were the words 'James Tiberius Kirk'.

"My apologies Jim. Although, how was I to know your name was on the chair? It is not a common practice for me to crawl under the seats of my hosts to determine if the seat is their preferred one." Spock scooted out from under the chair and watched on as Jim attempted to do the same.

"You're supposed to be the genius. You should've known I'd carve my name into a chair," Jim answered back teasingly. He managed to get to his feet and sprawl in his chair, flinging his legs over one of the arms. "What do you want to do now?"

"I brought my three dimensional chess set. You did express an interest in playing?" Spock asked, taking a step toward the stairs.

"I did. Bring it out; I'll play 'til dinner." Jim got up and set up a small table between the chair and the couch while Spock retrieved his chess set. He laid out the board and the pieces and took a seat against the arm of the couch, his legs folded neatly under him. He was surprised to find Jim was not a novice player, and that he in fact seemed to be able to see moves that appeared at first glance to be random but were far from it. Out of the five games they played until Jim decided it was time for dinner, he won two.

"I am impressed Jim. I did not know you played chess," Spock put the board away and helped in putting plates and silverware on the table.

"Yeah, well, besides being the darling of Starfleet, I've been told I'm a genius level delinquent. I like chess, even if I don't have much time for it." Jim served up pasta with alfredo sauce. In Spock's he added broccoli and to his own, chunks of cooked chicken and set the bowls on the table. "Though, now I've got a worthy adversary, maybe I'll take up playing again," he flashed Spock a grin over his shoulder.

"I would enjoy playing chess in the evenings while we are here. As you said yesterday, it is a date."

A/N: so, a little longer this time. I think it's good now. I'm really trying here to sort of build the relationship, instead of just diving into the smut. And there will be some smut. I mean…come on, right? Oh, and just a little fun fact, I actually have a cat named Waffle who's a big orange tabby, so I thought I'd pay homage to him with Pancake. And I've fallen onto the Spock with a cat bandwagon^^