Rules of Engagement
Chapter Three
Acknowledgements: I do not own Star Trek (obviously) and nor do I own the Wikihow article I intend to base this on. The plot is mine, though, so I hope you enjoy it!
Start talking. How very... vague. Spock considered the rest of the paragraph. You don't have to commit to a full conversation – acknowledging him in passing as you walk by can be sufficient. Of course, he knew that this advice was intended originally as a means of introduction, but he considered it well suited to his needs. It wasn't as if he made a habit of engaging the captain in casual – or any other kind of – conversation once off the bridge, after all.
Spock was acutely aware of his friend's daily routine, having spent weeks subconsciously reconfiguring his own so that they would coincide. Once he had realised what he had been doing, however, Spock also knew that to revert to his original schedule would be tantamount to a rejection of Kirk's companionship, which he was unwilling to risk.
He therefore knew that if he were to exit his quarters in precisely 3.40 minutes, and walk at his regular pace toward the turbolift, he would be 99.63% likely to end up sharing his ride to alpha shift with the captain. Perfect... and terrifying. Even a few moments spent in the presence of his friend were enough to make the Vulcan in him begin to give way to his human side, these days, and the very idea made him shudder inside. The loss of control it would entail was... undesirable, to say the least.
However, Spock decided that he was willing to take a chance on his willpower this time. He had meditated for an extra 2 hours the night before in preparation, letting his paperwork fall... not behind, but less ahead than was usual for him. It was not something he was willing to see go to waste, and especially not because of an emotional response.
His mind made up, Spock strode with deliberately measured steps down the corridor. Five... six... seven... and... Spock realised he was holding his breath, and immediately returned his lungs to their normal rate of operation. Two steps later, his efforts were thoroughly undone, as his friends stepped from his cabin and into Spock's not-deliberately-orchestrated-in-the-slightest path. Pulling back almost immediately, Kirk bent and returned the fallen datapad to Spock's hands. "Sorry," he smiled apologetically. "Guess I'm running a little late this morning."
"On the contrary, captain," Spock replied. His voice sounded strained to his own ears, but Kirk gave no indication of having noticed. "You are exactly on time, according to my approximations." This, Spock noted grimly, was not how he had intended to engage in what he believed was termed 'small talk' with his friend.
"Is there any particular reason for your assumption of lateness?" he asked after a moment of walking in silence. His companion looked up at him, startled from his thoughts by the unexpected sound. "No-" he began to reply, but a single raised eyebrow stopped his response in its tracks. "Actually, Spock, to be perfectly honest, I didn't sleep well last night," he admitted, looking down at the floor in what Spock could only identify as embarrassment.
Sensing an opportunity to show friendship for Kirk, Spock spoke with caution, unsure how his concern would be received. "Are you... quite well, captain? Perhaps you should visit Dr. McCoy if you are experiencing a recurring difficulty sleeping," he offered softly.
The captain met his eyes with a tired grin at that, and Spock observed shallow lilac shadows encircling their hazel depths. "I'll be fine," Kirk assured his friend, "I just need to catch up on some rest. I don't know about you, but these departmental reviews are putting me through hell. I don't seem to have any spare time any more," he sighed. Spock nodded his understanding, unsure how to proceed in the conversation. He decided that a candid approach had served well before, and might be worth another try.
"I would like to offer my assistance in completing the task," he offered quietly – so quietly, in fact, that for a moment the captain wasn't sure if he had really spoken at all. But the he went on, "With my own reports completed, I would like to help. Perhaps once we have finished you would be amenable to a game of chess..." Spock stopped, unsure whether he had overstepped his mark. Kirk was frowning slightly, a confused expression about his face. "You would do that?" he asked simply, and Spock nodded. He had nothing else to say.
But his friend did. "Spock, I don't tell you often enough how lucky I am to have you as my First Officer," he smiled gently. "This is way above and beyond what is expected of you, you know." The smile remained, but it seemed to Spock that the captain was braced, as if for a blow. Did he expect Spock to rescind his offer, given the opportunity?
"Captain, I wish to extend my offer as... a friend," Spock clarified, hiding his nerves with some difficulty beneath his customary Vulcan calm. "I was under the impression that human friendship entailed offering assistance in a time of need," he added uncertainly. Kirk's near-blinding grin in by way of response allayed his fears, however.
"In that case, Spock, I'd be honoured to accept your offer," his friend said, an unidentifiable emotion causing his eyes to shine brilliantly in the stark white lighting of the corridor. "Thank you," he murmured, walking alongside the relieved half-Vulcan with a lingering smile on his face. "But, if you're offering as a friend," he emphasised the word happily, "then can't you call me Jim?" Spock's breath caught in his throat, and his friend was forced to wait a tense moment before he was able to formulate a response. "It would be... my pleasure," he accepted, resisting the urge to smile in kind. "Jim."
They summoned the turbolift in silence, each contemplating the unexpected turn of events in his own reeling mind. Spock was content; the morning was off to a better start than he could possibly have imagined.