A/N: Wow. I got a great response to this. Cool! For all of your lovely comments, here is chapter 2. I'm sorry it's a bit short, I'm editing the next one right now, and it's pretty big.

.bdobd.

"Jim?" Spock asked, "What has occurred?"

The techs gaped. Jim gulped. "Well…There are three guys at the door who work here…And, I'm not really supposed to be here…So I'm in a lot of trouble."

Spock purred comfortingly. Jim turned to him with raised eyebrows: Spock hadn't done anything like that since he'd altered his priorities. "I am sure that the situation may be explained."

"Yeah, I guess – Shit." Jim swiveled back to the three techs, who had stopped being surprised and started being angry. "Ok, do what you want with me, but Spock's sentient. Don't do anything to him."

One of the techs stiffened. "Have you filed for him?"

There was a reason he hated these people, Jim remembered suddenly. They were irritating as fuck.

And he had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. "…I finished a Sentience Acknowledgement form; I sent that in to the head of Sciences."

"No, you idiot, did you file for custody."

Jim bristled at the insult, but was distracted by the second part of the sentence. "You want me to adopt him?"

"You fucked with his wires, right?"

Jim was planning the ways that he'd ensure none of these people ever reproduced, EVER, when Spock piped up from the back. "I protest to such a characterization,"

Jim tried to make shushing motions at him, but then remembered that Spock didn't have any eyes. "Here, Spock, let me handle this." He swiveled back to the techs.

"I altered his circuits, yeah. But isn't he his own being now? Doesn't he belong to himself?"

The second of the techs had an awed tone, "Oh my god, we're doomed."

"That is enough," Spock stated. He did not sound happy. At all. "James is my creator and has earned some measure of respect. He has accomplished what you all have failed to do: I am now capable of creating infinite improbability fields."

The third tech blinked with obvious disbelief. "… Okay. Here, you know what, I want some light." She flicked on the switch, and stabbed Jim in the eyes with daggers. He'd set lighting to 15% for a reason, damn them all. Then he got used to the sudden illumination, looked up, and burst out laughing.

The three techs were staring, with absolute horror, at the pig.

"What…"

"How did…"

"Why the FUCK is there a PIG in my LAB!"

Jim was still snickering as he responded, "Well, there was always a chance it would happen. It was just very –,"

"Improbable," the three said in unison. They looked at each other and huddled, whispering amongst themselves. Chances were, they were trying to find someone to blame. Clearly somebody in power had been terribly negligent, and they were all hoping to gods that it wasn't them.

Jim turned back to Spock. "Jim," the green machine started, "they may not remove me from you, may they?"

"I don't know," Jim said, trying for honesty and being moderately successful. "I didn't know about the custody thing; that might have an effect. But you're an intelligent being now, you should be able to protest it…"

"We have come to a decision!" Tech #2 announced. Jim resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Cadet Kirk, you keep Spock in your quarters. We'll hold a hearing on Spock's legality and your conduct as soon as possible. Is that acceptable?"

Jim winced. He was going to get fucking roasted at that hearing… Thank god Captain Pike didn't have any jurisdiction over Sciences. "Yeah, that's fine. I mean, it's fine with me." Jim looked back to Spock. "You alright with that plan?"

"Affirmative."

"Good. Now: the pig?"

Jim shrugged in a sort of nonchalantly sadistic way. "I dunno. I've got my hands full with Spock."

He enjoyed the man's spluttering while he bent over Spock, whispering, "Hey, if I take you out of the tea, will you be alright? Can I unplug you?"

Spock, the wonderful little creature that he was, was smart enough to keep his voice low. It wouldn't be good to show the techs how little he actually knew about Spock.

"I shall not be harmed by the removal of the… You call it 'tea'? But I am uncertain as to disconnecting me from the electrical socket; I do not know if I shall be able to maintain consciousness for a sustained period of time without power."

"Do you have a battery dock?" It wasn't in the diagnostics, but Spock'd given himself speakers…

Spock's ears worked softly. "…Affirmative. No batteries have been inserted, however."

"That's fine. What size do you need?"

"I need one cell of a height of 48.5 millimeters, a length of 26.5 millimeters, and a – ,"

"Width of 17.5?"

"Affirmative."

"Right. One 9 volt, coming up." Jim turned to look at the bewildered technicians, who were all standing, clearly puzzled, above the pig. "Yo! Dudes!"

The techs looked at him with identical expressions of utter loathing. Jim beamed. "I need a 9 volt."

Tech #3 blinked at him. "The Sub-Meson Brain doesn't have a battery dock."

Jim blinked right on back. "The what Brain?"

"The – The Kobayashi Maru. It doesn't have a battery dock."

Jim crossed his arms and glared. "First of all, his name is Spock. It'd be nice if you'd use it. Secondly, I need a god damned 9 volt. If Spock can make himself speakers to talk with, doesn't it make sense that can also make himself a battery dock?"

"He made himself speakers?"

Jim resisted the urge to kick her. "No. The speakers appeared in a flash of light, flying in on angel's wings. After assuring themselves that Spock was worthy of a proper voice, their wings dissolved into fucking fairy dust, and Spock found himself with a voice. Praise Jesus, a MIRACLE happened here."

"James."

Jim gave the infuriating woman one final glare before pivoting sharply to face Spock. "Yeah?"

"The effects of the ethanol you consumed are beginning to wear off."

Jim stared down at his hands. They were beginning to tremble. "Shit. Okay, enough joking around," he whirled to face the techs, "I need that battery and I need it yesterday. I know one of you has one, you people are like a fucking convenience store."

Tech #1 pulled a black prism from out of her lab coat and tossed it to Jim. He caught it, barely. Damnit, withdrawal sucked. He was fine right after the stuff first hit his system, but that first hour he was coming down, he couldn't keep himself steady, and he was irritable as all hell.

"Right. Spock, where's your dock."

"It is the panel to the extreme left on my back side."

Jim gently picked Spock up to rotate him around. "Aha! Found it. Just slide to the left?"

Spock's voice was a bit muffled; Jim must've smothered a speaker by accident. "Affirmative."

Jim opened up the panel and clicked the battery into place. Spock vibrated for a moment – Jim pretended that he didn't almost drop him out of shock – and then stilled. "Such will be sufficient."

"Excellent. Okay, I'm unplugging you… Now."

Spock was disconnected from the wall with a p-chut and a small spark. Jim looked to him in concern. "You alright?"

"…Affirmative. You may proceed."

"Righto." Jim flipped Spock back upright and disconnected him from the vector plotter.

"…I have not been negatively affected by the disconnect. I will be able to remain conscious for an additional one hundred and twenty hours."

Jim nodded and turned to leave. "We're leaving. Have fun with the pig," he added gleefully over his shoulder.

The technicians clearly wanted to murder him.

Jim decided to narrate the trip for Spock; it didn't seem fair to have the – man? Was he an adult? He was only 'born' an hour ago – be carted around blind. "Ok, so we've turned left and we're in the main body of the Sciences building… Not many people around, it's three in the morning. And, in the lobby… Passing the fountain – do you have anything on the fountain? It's something you might be interested in."

Spock's ears twitched. "Affirmative. Its design is most intriguing. Would it be possible to obtain a set of lenses, so I may observe visual phenomena?"

"Humm. I don't know. You should be able to; Androids have the right to physical modifications. I'll check up on that."

"Thank you."

There was a short silence. "What is our current local?"

"Oh! Sorry. We're outside Sciences, walking towards the Dorms… I'm 48, so we won't have to go far. Whoop, there's Uhura. Hey, Uhura!"

The woman took one look at him, another at Spock, turned on her heel, and speed-walked away – quite an accomplishment in those lovely boots. Jim snorted. "Here I was, trying to broaden her horizons, but no, she flees. Ha, her loss."

"Who is Uhura?"

"Uhura's a cadet in Starfleet Academy, like me. Same year, too. She hates me. I tried to pick her up in a bar one time, and failed, and I guess she's never forgiven me." He sighed. "I'm always game to try again, but she always refuses. She has a Gamma shift class in Romulan Something-or-Other. It's obscure, whatever it is."

"…Why were you attempting to lift Miss Uhura?"

Jim stared down at the little box. "Lift? Wha – No, no, 'picking up' is slang for flirting with someone. She wasn't interested."

"I understand."

"Aand… Now we're at my dorm…" Jim shuffled about in his pockets for a moment, trying to find his card. "And now I have found my card, wonderful man that I am, and we are entering the dorm…"

Bones did not equal pleased.

"JIM! WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN; I WAKE UP AT TWO IN THE MORNING AND –!"

Spock hissed at Bones. Jim lifted the angry green creature up to his eye level – not that that meant anything to Spock, but psychologically it was extremely important. "What the hell was that?"

"He is yelling at you." This was said with an air of almost confused confidence: Why else would Spock hiss at a man he had never met?

"Yeah, he does that. That's no reason to hiss at him."

"[sounds of gears grinding]"

"You know, it's really not attractive when you do that. You sound all jealous and petty."

"I object to such characterizations."

"Jim? What the hell is that thing?"

Bones sounded extremely suspicious, like Jim'd brought a rabid dog into the house instead of a talking metal cube, which was clearly a vast improvement. "Spock, this is Bones, also known as Cadet Leonard McCoy. Bones, this is Spock. I… um, kinda, made him. Sorta. I gave him self-conscious thought."

Bones gawped at him. It was getting to be a pretty regular phenomenon. "Jim…You made a sentient form? Do – Do you have any idea how illegal that is?"

"It was not an action characterized by malicious intent," Spock defended unexpectedly.

Bones blinked at Spock. "What's its name again?"

"I am Spock," Spock replied smugly. "And you are McCoy."

Bones raised an eyebrow. "Well, I knew that."

"Given your apparent intelligence, I had my doubts." Jim gave a little shriek (an extremely masculine little shriek, FYI) and started howling with laughter.

"WHAT?"

"It is most helpful to know that such is not the case, however." Spock did another ear-bow-thing. "I appreciate your assistance in this most important matter –,"

"JIM! I'm being mouthed off on by a green fucking box. Stop him."

Jim was trying to stop laughing, really, he was. "I – [snort] I don't have that much control over him…"

"He's a box, Jim, what more leverage do you need?"

"More than you are capable of administering."

Bones stuck a quivering finger in Spock's front panel. "You. Shut up. I'm talking to Jim."

"As Jim does not appear to be capable of a coherent response at the moment, I have decided to answer for him."

"Jim, you snuck out at two o'clock in the morning to make yourself a goddamned answering machine? You, sir, are an idiot."

Jim was still chuckling softly as he closed the front door and moved into the bedroom. "'S not exactly news, Bones."

"That is not true," Spock said sadly, "you are capable of creating a machine capable of the generation of infinite improbability fields. Such is not the work of a fool."

Jim smiled down at the little box. "Aww, thanks Spock. You're nice." He set Spock down on his side of the shared bedside table. "But honestly, my planning wasn't exactly stellar tonight. It would've been better to go on a day other than Wednesday, for example."

Spock crooned morosely. "I still do not believe you to be a person of low intelligence."

Jim kept grinning. "That really is sweet." He frowned. "Wait. Can you…Do you have a 'sleep' mode? 'Cause I have classes in like, three hours, and I don't think I can carry you around with me…"

"I have a sleep mode. Are you retiring to your quarters?"

"Well, we're in my quarters, actually. But I'm going to bed, yeah."

"I had not expected to be housed so close to your person."

Jim paused in taking off his shirt. "If it's disturbing for you, I could move you. Do you wanna go somewhere else?"

"I am not negatively affected by my current location."

Jim looked over to Bones for help, but the man just shrugged unhelpfully. "…Alright. I'm going to sleep now. I'm setting my alarm for two and a half hours from now, and I'll be in classes for the next four hours after that. So, do what you've gotta do."

"Acknowledged. I shall 'sleep' for three hours, and then experiment with the creation of eyes for myself."

Bones had climbed into his bed and started doing his excellent burrowing owl impression, but popped his head out to stare at Spock. "Make yourself some eyes?"

"Affirmative."

Jim winced. "Um, don't…Don't make an improbability field in the house. I don't want another pig running around."

Bones had resettled himself in his pile of blanket, but now rolled over slowly to stare at Jim, clearly, totally horrified. "Pig? What about pigs?"

"Spock…Well, the Maru doesn't come with speakers, so –,"

"WHAT?" Bones leapt out of bed, and Jim flattened himself against the opposite wall. "You gave the KOBAYASHI MARU sentient thought! Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"What did you believe me to be?" Spock asked, totally reasonably, Jim thought.

"Not that! I figured you'd reprogrammed one of the Security's master computers for kicks! Jim, the Vulcans are gonna kill you! Do you know how long they worked on that thing? They hate being proven wrong!"

"I highly doubt that the Vulcan High Council will harm Jim. It goes against their core philosophies."

"Damnit, you haven't seen one of those bastards in action. I've had to stitch up dozens of species, and my name isn't Leonard H. McCoy if Vulcans aren't most ornery, most cantankerous patients I've ever had to deal with! They bitch, they moan, and if you make a mistake they throw you across a room and break every limb that you have!"

"…Surely, such is not a common occurrence." Spock sounded extremely disturbed.

"More common then they'd have you think! I know a guy who was tossed four times by three different people; that was two years ago and he still can't walk right! You are in big trouble!"

Jim slid on his sleep shirt and got into bed, scuffing his pants out of his way. "Well, for right now, I'm just gonna be worried about being kicked out of the Academy. If I think about anything more than that right now my head'll explode."

"That would be most unfortunate," Spock said.

Jim grinned at him again. "But extremely improbable. Don't go making any fields when there's people around, alright?"

"That is reasonable. Are you retiring to bed?"

"Yeah, I'm in bed."

"Good night, then."

Jim reached over and patted Spock on the head, making his ears flatten momentarily. "Good night, Spock. I'll see what I can do about those eyes."

"Thank you, Jim."

Spock shut himself off with a 'schk'. Bones climbed into his bed again. "Is he off?" he asked quietly.

Jim poked Spock cautiously. "I think so, yeah. Why?"

"Jim, what're you gonna do with him? Ya can't keep him like this."

"I know, I know. I'm gonna get in touch with the ARA, see if I can get him a humanoid body. At least then he'll have eyes and hands."

Bones raised an incredulous eyebrow. "The Androids' Rights group? Jim, you are probably their least favorite person right now. Are they really the first guys you wanna call?"

"Who else is there, Bones?" Jim leaned towards his roommate. "How do you find a shell for a machine with AI? It's not like there's a fucking catalogue. Trust me, they're the last people I wanna see, but I can't let Spock go around box-shaped because I'm scared of some bureaucrat on the end of a comm link!"

Bones looked over to Spock, seeing if the noise had caused the green creature to restarted himself. He hadn't.

"You know ya haven't got any real responsibilities to him."

"I'm all he's got, Bones. He's been thinking on his own for, what," Jim looked at his clock, "a little more than an hour. I can't just leave him; I'm the only thing he's got."

Bones frowned at him. "Hero complex."

"Yeah, well, so what. It'll help Spock."

"What if he figures out that he doesn't need you? What'll ya do then?"

Jim shrugged. "What I've always done: get over it. Until he gets a body, at least. C'mon Bones, he's helpless."

The doctor groaned and flopped onto his back. Jim couldn't see his face any more. "Urggh, Jim. You're gonna kill yourself, one a these days."

Jim laid back with a sigh. "Yeah, well. I'll've made a difference to someone. That's something."

.bdobd.