Kirk was bored. There were no other words for it; this mission was dull. They had weeks until they reached their destination. In the week since they'd left the starbase, nothing had happened of note. He sighed, and looked around the recreation room.
He saw his officers smiling, talking, eating. All together. While he, the captain, sat abandoned at a table. Kirk's eyes swept across to another corner…he was not the only one alone…
Spock sat at a far table. His only company was a glass of something and a three-dimensional chess set. He appeared to be playing against himself—his brow was furrowed in concentration, and his hands were folded on his lips. Eventually, he reached out and delicately moved a bishop. He examined the move closely with his lovely dark eyes.
"Heya, Jim." Kirk started, and looked up to see a dark-haired lieutenant grinning at him.
"Gary!" He smiled as Gary Mitchell sat down across from him.
"So, how's command suiting you, Jim?"
"Ah, not bad." Kirk glanced up from the table momentarily to see Mitchell still beaming at him.
"Guess that the captain's going to be getting all the attention, hmm?"
Kirk sighed, and couldn't keep from looking back at Spock. "I wish," he said, unable to keep the longing out of his voice.
When he looked back to Mitchell, his smile had faded somewhat. "That," he said disapprovingly. "Is one wish that is never going to be granted."
Kirk let out a disbelieving puff of air. "What makes you think that?"
Mitchell raised an eyebrow. The captain couldn't help thinking that Spock looked much more attractive when he did that. "He's a Vulcan, Jim. You can't seduce a Vulcan! It's like the first law of interspecies romance!" He noticed Kirk's doubt, and leaned forward to put a hand on his shoulder. Kirk was filled with the inexplicable urge to pull away. "Jim, sweetie…" He sighed, his eyes downcast momentarily. "I'm sorry. Maybe I'm just jealous."
"You are," Kirk said, but Mitchell ignored him.
"Just, please, can't you try to love someone within your reach for once? I don't want to see you heartbroken again."
"You were within my reach," Kirk said shortly. "And yet I can't keep track of the times you broke my heart." He stood up and started to walk away. He stopped just behind Mitchell to say softly, "I'm sorry." As he glanced behind him, he saw the single officer in the corner with the chess set. Spock's eyes were glinting at him from between the levels. He'd seen the whole thing.
There was a strange twisting sensation in his stomach, and Kirk left swiftly.
The next day, Captain Kirk found himself in the rec room again, with little change. Spock was still in the corner with the chess set. Gary should be off shift soon. Kirk foresaw a repeat of yesterday's incident.
But the end of the shift came and went, and Mitchell didn't appear. Kirk's boredom and tension grew stronger, and he wondered how long he should stay, waiting. He sat up, and rubbed his knuckles on the table, staring blankly at the door.
At his table, Spock noticed his nervousness. He was unsure of how to proceed with the captain. Ever since the dance, it had become harder and harder to keep up his emotionless mask. Smiles and frowns were beginning to slip out, and he found himself being unaccountably disapproving of anyone with a close relationship to the captain. Especially the yeomen…and Lieutenant Mitchell. He was, in fact, sure that he had felt something akin to jealousy yesterday at the sight of Mitchell being considerably personal with the captain. Such a thing was impossible, of course. A Vulcan should not—could not—feel emotions.
Yet now he was filled with the inexplicable urge to go over to the captain.
Even as he stood up slowly, his brain was working, thinking up a logical reason to do so. He eventually decided it was one of the duties of the senior officers to make sure that the captain was able to work properly, and that included ensuring that they were in good health, and this pining that he seemed to be going through was never good for one's health. The Chief Medical officer not present, the duty fell to him. It was irrelevant if he took pleasure in it.
So refuted, Spock walked over to stand at the captain's shoulder. He said quietly, "Captain," and at his words, Kirk turned. His hazel eyes were startled, but it was a happy startled.
"Yes, Mr. Spock?" the captain said with a charming smile. He leaned back in his chair. "To what do I owe your attention?"
Momentarily disarmed, Spock was silent. He quickly gathered his thoughts, as best he could, and began, "You appeared somewhat stressed, Captain. Stress and tension are not conducive to a good command. As it falls within my duty as first officer, I thought—"
Kirk, smiling slightly, held up a finger. "I understand your concern, Mr. Spock…"
"Concern?" Spock tilted his head and began lying through his teeth. "I do not believe I understand. You do know that emotions are foreign to my species. Concern, being an emotion, is not something I am familiar with."
Kirk raised his eyebrows and nodded. Spock could sense his disbelief, but did not comment. "Well, Mr. Spock, get to the point," the captain chided gently. "What did you come over for?"
Spock looked directly at the captain. Those eyes threw him off, but it was somehow worth it. "Do you play chess, Captain?"
Gary Mitchell entered the rec room, an apology for his lateness prickling on his lips. His eyes went straight to the empty space where Kirk should be sitting, and he almost stumbled in his confusion.
Jim shouldn't be leaving him, he thought. No matter how infatuated the captain got, he was always careful…at least enough to let the other person to make the first move… Jealousy sent a swift rush of blood from his pumping heart, and he narrowed his eyes to look around suspiciously. Yes, there they were, in the far corner. Trying to keep his footsteps quiet, Mitchell walked over with tense legs.
Kirk and Spock were playing chess. It was hard to say who was winning.
"Are you sure you want to follow through with that move?" Kirk stared into Spock's eyes, a smile slipping out of the corner of his mouth.
Spock gave him a condescending look. "I always know what I am doing, Captain." He slowly turned over one of Kirk's white pieces in his hand.
Kirk shrugged, and after a moment of pondering reached out to move a bishop. The move took one of Spock's knights. He returned his gaze to the Vulcan, smiling more at the irritated tug of his mouth as he leaned forward to examine the board.
"Having fun, Jim?" Kirk started at the cold voice behind him. He turned to see Mitchell staring down at him with narrowed eyes.
"Ah, Gary! Pull up a chair," Kirk said, gesturing. Mitchell remained standing. Only with a few more words of coercion did he stiffly fold himself into a seat. He didn't take his resentful gaze off Spock.
Spock half-heard the captain talking, trying to bring them into a conversation, but he could only focus on the lieutenant. He had brown eyes, dark hair, and he had seen his winning smile many times before. There was no smile on his face now.
"Spock…" The Vulcan turned back to the captain. He was smiling, but there was nervousness in his tense bite and worried eyes. "Haven't you two served together before?"
Mitchell nodded. Spock affirmed, his gaze flicking back and forth between the two. He had to struggle not to crush Kirk's piece in his hand.
"So, you know each other…" Kirk spread his hands, a chuckle enriching his breath. "What's with all the cold shoulders now?"
Spock folded his hands up and pressed his fingers to his lips. As he pondered his answer, Mitchell turned back to Kirk and said, "It's…a bit of a personal matter." He leaned closer to Kirk, his breath tickling his ear. "Deneb IV, remember?" he murmured. Spock's knuckles went white.
He snapped his wrist out and moved another piece, dragging Kirk's attention back to him with a sarcastic tilt of his head. The captain turned back to him, a smile still painted across his lips.
"Yes, Mr. Spock?"
Spock's eyebrows came together. "Captain," he said. "I have made my move." He leaned back and folded his arms.
Kirk leaned forward to examine the board. His eyes flicked up to look at Spock, and another little laugh bubbled in his throat. Spock couldn't stop a slight smile from twitching his mouth. His heart was beating faster, and he was getting distracted…
Mitchell gently slapped the captain's arm. "Hey, Jim, what're you doing?"
Spock had to fight not to spring up and strike the lieutenant away. Kirk spared Mitchell a half-glance, then returned his gaze to the chessboard. "I'm playing chess, Gary." His hand hovered over one of his pieces. "D'you think you can take your bitchiness somewhere else, please?" Ignoring Gary's offended huff, he moved a piece. The captain smiled up at Spock. "Checkmate."
Spock looked at the board, and looked again. That wasn't possible! "You play quite illogically, Captain," he said between his teeth.
Kirk smirked, and Spock looked away so he wouldn't be distracted again.
"You want to play again?" The captain's fingers tapped playfully on the levels. "Maybe you'll win this time."
"Perhaps tomorrow," Spock replied, noticing Mitchell's glare.
"We'll be approaching the galactic barrier tomorrow."
"Off shift, then?"
"Certainly, Mr. Spock." Kirk stood up, smiling at him. Mitchell sprang to his feet next to him. Spock followed their movements intently—it wasn't like he was admiring the captain, or watching the lieutenant for any advances. Certainly not. Vulcans did not feel love. Or jealousy.
