"Spock! What are you doing out of bed? Does Bones know you're out of Sickbay? Get your scrawny ass in here!" Jim helped the officer to a chair and when he was seated he shut off the music. "You look like shit, Spock, are you alright?"

"I was unaware that I resembled fecal matter, however I am improving. I did not obtain Dr. McCoy's permission to leave the medical bay. As per our agreement, I knew you would not 'rat' on me." Spock took a shallow breath.

Jim and Spock had confided in each other over a chess game of their mutual dislike for Sickbay, and had made a pact that if one was injured, he could hide in the other's quarters from McCoy. It was usually Jim holed up in Spock's room, but sometimes the tables were reversed.

Jim grabbed a glass, blew the imaginary dust out of it, and put it in the replicator, dialing up water. When he came back, Spock was trying to sneak a glance at Jim's computer. Jim handed him the water and gestured to the equipment.

"Something catch your eye?"

"What was the song that was playing when I entered?" Spock asked quietly.

Jim scrolled back. "Genesis. 'No Son of Mine'. It was originally recorded by the group in 1991. That's Phil Collins you heard singing."

"Will you repeat the song please?" Spock requested. Jim's jaw opened but he did it. The song played and Jim watched his First Officer staring into space. When it clicked over to the next song, Jim lowered the volume and raised his hands palm-up.

"What did you think?"

"The song made me remember entering Starfleet." Spock looked at a point over Jim's shoulder and Jim remained frozen. His First rarely talked about his past. When he did, it was usually heavy. "I recalled my mother and father arguing about my decision, and my father threatening to disown me. My mother informed him if he did so he would lose her as well. He did not dare call her bluff, and so I was not rejected completely. However, my father did not speak to me again until … it happened."

It had been six months, and Spock was still unable to speak the name of the madman who had destroyed his planet and nearly wiped out his people in one diabolical move. Jim knew, since he was the commanding officer, that Spock had been in mandatory counseling. He had just been released last week, as a matter of fact. Jim didn't blame him for not wanting to speak Nero's name. The bastard didn't deserve the recognition.

"Do you speak now?" Jim found himself asking, and wanted to kick his own ass for his familiarity.

Spock gave a small shrug, a move Jim had never seen him do before. "I call, but for the most part he is occupied with assisting the Vulcan people to recover from this tragedy. He is in high demand now."

Jim frowned. "But he could call you when it was convenient for him!"

Spock shook his head. "The ship and New Vulcan are on different time schedules. New Vulcan is eight hours behind ship's time, so six in the evening for him is ten in the morning here. I would be on duty."

Jim gritted his teeth. "Unless we're in the middle of a mission, I think you can talk to him. I'll excuse you personally. Why don't you call him tomorrow? Have a chat, father to son?" Jim minimized the music player on the computer and pulled up the duty roster. With a few clicks of the mouse, the Beta officer was moved up to Alpha shift and Spock took Beta. "There. You've got Beta tomorrow. Call your dad."

Spock blinked at his commanding officer. "The duty roster does not allow for personal frivolities. You should not have done that."

Jim shrugged lazily. "That's thing two million, twenty five thousand, three hundred and eighty four you've told me I'm not supposed to do," he told the man. "Hasn't stopped me yet."

Spock opened his mouth to respond smartly when he thought twice and closed it. Then he nodded once. "Thank you, Captain."

"Jim," Jim corrected. "We're not on duty, so you can call me Jim."

Spock's cheekbones began to color a light green shade, and Jim realized he'd never seen the other man blush either.

"It would not be appropriate to refer to my commanding officer by his first name."

"Spock," Jim began with a sigh, "we're going to be on this ship together for five years. I'd like to think that sometime along the way we're going to become friends. And friends call each other by their first name. Which … uh … speaking of which, what is your first name?"

Spock looked away. "I suppose you would consider Spock to be my first name, in your reckoning."

"Oh. Then what's your last name?"

Spock made a noise in the back of his throat while moving his lips. Jim just stared at him. "That is my family's 'last' name."

"Wow." Jim shook his head. "No wonder y'all go by your first names. Okay. Um, I'm going to call you Spock, and you can call me anything you want, except for things like Buster, or Kid, or Sport. I'll clock you if you do that."

"Does Dr. McCoy not already refer to you by those terms?"

Jim laughed. "Yeah, but he's just fucking with me. He doesn't mean anything by it."

"The doctor is fornicating with you?" Spock questioned.

"He's doing what? No, Spock, fucking with me, you know, screwing with me? Uh, messing with me?" Jim stammered for a moment. "Goofing? Playing? Help me out here, Spock."

Spock had understood the term 'fucking with' from the beginning, however he was horrible when it came to tricking other beings into explaining themselves. It was a weakness he had picked up in Academy, when his first roommate had mistaken his unfamiliarity with the Standard language with being mentally delayed.

"Ah. The doctor is being friendly by calling you names by which you wish not to be referred? What purpose does that serve, Captain?"

Jim ran a hand down his face. "Never mind."

There was just the sound of music in the room until Spock cleared his throat. "I believe now is when I am supposed to tell you I am fucking with you, Jim."

Spock had expected Jim to be angry. What he didn't expect was for Jim to whoop loudly and throw his arms around him.

"SPOCK! You rascal, that was awesome! You do have a sense of humor!" He hugged Spock tightly and sat back. "See now, now is when I can see why Uhura's mad for you." A sudden awkwardness sprang up around them and neither made eye contact with the other.

Spock took a breath and felt his side. Dr. McCoy's repairs had held through the attack, which was fortunate. He did not wish to repeat the surgery process. Then he turned back to face the silent captain.

"What song is playing now?" Spock asked, as if the last statement had never been uttered.

Jim turned to the computer, grateful for the distraction. He minimized the duty roster again and pulled up the music player. "Uh, still Genesis, this is 'Dreaming While You Sleep'."

"What is it about?" Spock continued. He just wanted Jim to feel comfortable again.

"Near as I can tell, the guy falls asleep behind the wheel of the car and hits a woman in the street." Jim played with the mouse for a bit. "I don't always know. This whole album was recorded in 1991, so it's got references in it that don't apply anymore." Jim finally made eye contact. "Like that one – our aircars have alarms and sensors to prevent accidents, but I guess combustion engine cars didn't have them back then. So he hit her, and she's in a coma forever because of him."

Spock sat back for a while, gauging whether his question would cause strife. Then he forged ahead. "Why do you listen to such discouraging music?" Jim snickered, and Spock frowned. "Jim, I am serious. Why do you listen to music that has such a negative message? Does it not dampen your spirits?"

"I know you're serious, Spock. Bones asks me the same thing. In fact, any time I play Genesis or Phil Collins he locks up the liquor and hands me a handkerchief. But it doesn't depress me! I think it's awesome music. It makes me feel closer to people who aren't here anymore," he commented obliquely. In truth, his father had left this in his collection of music and Jim had listened to it since he was a baby, trying to get to know a father he would never see. Privately, Jim wondered if Spock had any rituals that reminded him of his mother. But it was still too new. He couldn't ask.