Apologies for the long wait. Next chapter should be out soon. It's a lot more exciting so it gets written more quickly ;)
Once again, thanks to everyone for their reviews and faves. It really makes my day to get them, and I want you to know I appreciate every one of them! =) Hope you all enjoy Chapter 4.
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It took them a day and a half to reach the Colony. The day passed relatively quickly, Jim filling out paperwork and sleeping. The time might have sped by, but already it was boring. He was itching to get some action, whether of the line-of-duty variety, or the equally awesome on-the-nearest-flat-surface variety. Filling out paperwork was time-consuming, but not mental-facility-consuming. And a bored Jim was a crazy Jim, as every one of his teachers and his guardians had found out. You simply couldn't leave the boy bored. He had to have something to do, or he would go insane and find something to do or destroy. Or, in his teenage years, someone to do. Or destroy. Whichever.
He settled with spending his time spinning around in the chair and antagonizing Bones and Uhura, the former of whom was, as usual, very easy to antagonize. The latter of the two got irritated fast, but sadly didn't react in any hilarious way. She was just mean to him. This seriously made it all the more boring. Jim wondered if perhaps antagonizing Spock might be more fun, but then that brought up the troubling possibility of violence and strangulation. Under certain circumstances, he enjoyed violence and strangulation, but right now he wasn't in the mood.
"Earth Colony Seventy-Six, this is Captain James Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise," he said, when they were finally in orbit.
"Reading you loud and clear," came a female voice, "This is Earth Colony Seventy-Six."
"Excellent," he replied, doing a spin in his chair for good measure. When he passed Spock's eye-line, he could see the Vulcan's disapproving look. Wait. Was it disapproving? Or was he just imagining that again? Probably imagining. Anyway, "We're here to pick up Ambassador Grace."
"Certainly sir, the Ambassador is standing by. We will send you the co-ordinates for beam-up."
Jim decided that she sounded like she was pretty. Pity he would never get to meet her. "Thank you, ma'am," he said in his most charming voice, "Your assistance is appreciated. Kirk out." He moved his hand and pushed another button on his chair arm, "Transporter room."
"Scott here."
"I'm on my way down. The Colony is sending co-ordinates to beam up the Ambassador. Input them and get ready."
"Yes, Cap'n," came back the reply and Jim stood.
"Come along now, Spock. Sulu, you have the conn," he said with amusement, gratified to see the Vulcan rise gracefully out of his chair to follow him into the turbolift. He realised then that he had probably sounded condescending to Spock there. He looked at Uhura as they walked past. Judging by the look on her face, yeah, he had sounded condescending. When they stood in the turbolift, he glanced over at Spock, but his face was completely blank as usual. "So, Spock, how's it going?"
Spock's expression didn't change, "I am well."
Jim tried again, "No complaints?"
"Nothing worth mentioning, sir," said Spock, in a tone of voice implying that his complaints lay mainly with the Captain.
Jim frowned, but didn't say anything more, because the turbolift doors opened then and they stepped out. Walking down the hall, he realised that Spock was matching his speed, walking slightly behind him on his left. They swept into the transporter room only moments later, Scotty looking up as they burst rather impressively into the space. "Hey Scotty," greeted Jim with a smile. Spock nodded politely.
"Hey Cap'n. Ready to beam up whenever you are."
Jim purposely paused a couple of seconds to give a dramatic effect, and then with great inflection in his voice, he boomed, "Energize!"
Scotty did, clearly amused. The transporter pad changed colours, locking down, and two figures began to swirl into view. It was difficult to tell at first, but it was soon obvious that one was a man, and the other, a woman, both in elaborate dress. Ambassador Grace and her bodyguard, perhaps? No, his clothing was too elaborate for that. He might be her consort or husband perhaps.
Jim pushed his thoughts to the side as they fully materialized. "Ambassador!" he welcomed, looking at the woman with the patented Jim Kirk Charming Smile #4 on his face. Sadly it fell from his face only a moment later when, instead of the quite lovely woman, the man answered. His voice was flat, annoyed.
"Captain Kirk." He stepped down from the transporter, the woman hanging back meekly behind him, "I am Ambassador Grace. Michael Grace, as you do not seem to be aware of to whom exactly you are speaking."
Jim's eyes flickered over to regard the irate man. He was an average looking sort of guy, brown hair and strong jaw. Perhaps an inch shorter than Jim was, and a few pounds heavier. He seemed annoyed, so Jim switched to Charming Smile #2, "Ambassador Grace, my apologies. I am Captain Kirk, and this is Commander Spock, my first officer and Lieutenant-Commander Scott, my chief Engineer. Welcome to the Enterprise."
"I know all that," replied the official, stepping down from the transporter room. The woman remained where she was, eyes lowered demurely to the floor, "Don't waste my time with things I already know. I, for one, take the time to learn something about the people I will be meeting for business purposes," Ouch, thought Jim, "I had hoped that my initial assumption about you would be wrong, Captain Kirk. It wasn't."
"Once again, I am deeply sorry, sir. We were not provided with any files on you personally, and I find it distasteful to look up things about people that I'm not provided with."
He bit his tongue, wincing at the awkward phrasing of his words.
"Better get over that aversion, Captain Kirk," said the man, "In this line of business, you're going to want to know everything about the people with whom you deal. Certainly you'll want to know their genders."
Jim smiled sheepishly, but the deep scowl remained on the Ambassador's face, so he tried to switch attention off himself, "Perhaps you could introduce me to your beautiful lady friend here? Your wife perhaps?" he punctuated the end of his sentence with a wink.
The wink was usually a sure fire win with....everyone. But apparently not Ambassador Grace, who still looked as unhappy as ever, "She is my assistant. Please refrain from making such insinuations." The man then turned stern eyes on Spock, who hadn't moved or spoken since they reached the transporter room, "I see you have brought the famous Commander Spock with you to greet me."
"Uh, yes," said Jim, unsure of how to respond to that. What did the man expect him to say?
"Ambassador," Spock said simply, inclining his head in greeting.
"I've heard a lot about the half-Vulcan in Starfleet. Good things, of course. Mr. Spock, perhaps you could show us to our rooms? We are quite exhausted from travel." Ambassador Grace waved a hand in the direction of his assistant, and the woman turned to pick up a suitcase that had materialised beside her when they had first beamed up. It was almost the same size as she was and Jim almost cringed as she heaved it into her arms.
"Of course, sir," Spock said and set off with the Ambassador in tow.
"Can I carry that for you, ma'am?" Jim asked the woman, who had yet to be named. She shook her head, pursing her small mouth into a tiny line and starting to drag the heavy bag down the corridor. He sent Scotty -- who had mercifully remained silent through his little 'conversation' with the Ambassador -- one last look. The man raised both of his eyebrows and grinned in amusement. Jim rolled his eyes in response, and then, frowning, he followed the procession through the hallways despite being patently uninvited. He didn't think he liked their guests much. Then again, you can't judge books by their covers, or by only reading the first three pages. He hadn't liked Spock (and in fact, still didn't like him), but apparently they were going to be the greatest of friends. So he had to keep reading. He'd just have to apply the same diligence to Ambassador Grace and....whatever her name was.
It didn't take long to reach the guest quarters at the quick pace his first officer set, and Jim tried to ignore the dirty look Grace was giving him as he and Spock stood outside their doors. "Ambassador, I just wanted to welcome you onto the ship again," began Jim, earnestly trying to make up his earlier mistake. He wanted to keep a good relationship with those with whom he had to work. Nothing could be worse than enemies having to join to go to peace talks with someone else. Perhaps they could at least be neutral with each other?
It was not to be, as the man interrupted him, "Save it, Captain Kirk."
Jim fell silent, the moment stretching awkwardly between them. He let it, hoping the Ambassador felt uncomfortable. Eventually, he ended the tension, "Well, I just wanted to let you know that our estimated time of arrival at Yanar is thirty-nine hours. If you need anything during your stay here, don't hesitate to ask any member of the crew."
"I won't," said Grace, and Jim had the feeling he meant that, "This includes yourself, does it?"
"Of course," said Jim diplomatically, although he had the distinct feeling that he would somehow be mysteriously absent whenever the Ambassador was requesting something. Well, he would try his best to be absent. On the bright side, he was the Captain, so he could just order a Yeoman to do whatever it was that needed doing. Or Spock. He could tell him that he wanted whatever-it-was done properly, so of course that meant Spock was the one who should be doing it!
Excellent plan, he thought to himself. All you had to do to get Spock to do something was to convince him that he was the most logical person for the job.
"Anyway, we must take our leave now," said Jim, smiling. Grace's face remained lined with a scowl, "Important things to be done on the bridge. Good night!"
He barely waited for the returned farewell before he turned on his heel and marched back to the bridge, Spock silently trailing him. He was like a shadow, honestly. "Tired. Are they kidding?" he looked at Spock, sceptical look plastered clearly across his face, "All they did was beam up from their place of employment."
"They did not seem to like you," offered Spock.
A useless observation, of course, "He didn't seem to mind you," Jim replied, leaning against the wall of the turbolift, "Maybe I should put you in charge of them. Would that be alright?"
"I will accept whatever responsibilities you choose to assign to me," said Spock, unhelpfully. Jim tilted his head slightly to look at Spock, who was standing still in the quietly whirring turbolift. He always stood still, but there was something about his movements. He bore a resemblance to a coiled spring, like if the outside pressure on him were released, he would explode in movement. It was strange seeing such a slender body and knowing how much stronger the man was than himself. And boy, Jim knew how much stronger he was. The turbolift opened, and as usual, Spock waited to allow him to exit first, which he did.
It was already second nature to saunter the few steps necessary to reach the Captain's chair, and to sink into it in what he privately liked to think was a sexy way. "Lieutenant Sulu," he said, "You've got the course already plotted to Yanar, I take it."
"Ensign Chekov did this one, sir."
The Russian half-turned his head, as if warily scoping out the Captain's reaction. He smiled broadly in encouragement. "I'm sure it's perfect. Lay it in, we're going to Yanar. Warp factor three."
"Yes, sir," Chekov and Sulu both chorused, and Jim smiled to hear it.
It was only an hour later that they all vacated the bridge for the change of shifts, Jim doing one more round to ensure that everyone was happy and where they belonged. He was quickly learning the names of his crew in this manner, and he hoped that it wouldn't take him more than a couple of weeks to learn all six hundred and fifty-four of them. That done, he meandered on down to the mess, quickly grabbing his food and locating where he wanted to sit. He slapped his tray down and sunk into his seat next to Sulu, who smiled, "Evening, sir."
Chekov was giving him a wide-eyed stare from across the table, which made Jim's smile brighten a few settings, "Hello officers. How are you this fine Beta cycle?"
"Great," said Sulu, big grin plastered all over his features, "Was just telling Chekov here about how our resident Vulcan and our resident Linguistics genius got together."
Jim's eyebrows shot up, and he leant towards the middle of the table, "Not that I'm encouraging gossip, since you know, we're all supposed to be professionals here, but I would like very much to hear this. It's something I've been wondering about since the passionate goodbye kisses right before we beamed over to the Narada."
"Oh, I see how it is," Scotty appeared out of nowhere and clattered noisily into the seat next to Chekov, "About to share info about our superior..." he looked at Jim, "Well, about our fellow officers, and you don't even include me! I'm the one that told you about the farewell snogging, Sulu! Have a bit of respect!"
"Yes, sir," said Sulu, because of course, Scotty out-ranked him.
"Is this really appropriate?" asked Chekov, eyes darting around nervously. Probably prudent to keep an eye out for Spock, Jim thought. If he caught them gossiping, there would be hell to pay. The teenager then lowered his voice to a stage whisper, clearly addressing only Scotty and Sulu, "And the Captain is right here!"
"But you love gossip!" exclaimed Scotty, and Chekov's face began to redden, "You're always the one bothering us to share what we know."
"Not while the Captain is here," said Chekov, looking quite like he wished he could sink into the floor. Jim just thought his accent was too adorable for words.
"It's alright, Chekov, you can speak freely to me when we're off-duty. After all, I'm just another person, and if you can talk to Scotty, you can certainly talk to me. We're closer in age than you and he are!"
"Y-Yes, sir," stammered the teenager, "it's just that a lot of the gossip revolves around you, sir."
Scotty and Sulu scowled at him while Jim laughed, "I could have guessed that. I am the most interesting person aboard, after all."
"I think you may need a treatment for that swollen head of yours," said Bones as he sat next to Jim, "I have several hyposprays back in my office that might do the trick."
The Captain grinned at their slowly-filling table, "All right! Now that Bones is here, it's a party!"This was said with no small amount of irony, given that when Bones was not drunk, he tended to be a bit of a buzz kill. It wasn't so great hanging out with other people when Bones was constantly going on about how such-and-such could kill you and how you were an idiot (nevermind test scores that say otherwise) for not listening to him. But that's what best friends were for. Putting up with nagging.
"Shut up, Jim," said Bones, "So I understand there was some interesting information about to be shared here?"
"How did you know?" asked Jim, eyebrows up again, "Is this a daily meeting or something?"
"Close enough," Bones grunted, sounding unenthusiastic even though Jim knew he was probably bursting at the seams wanting to know what Sulu was sharing.
"Anyway," said Sulu in a conspiratorial voice, "You know he was one of her teachers at the academy, right? I heard it started while he was still teaching. She went to go ask him about Vulcan syntax or something of the like. Of course he gave her some pointers. He was such a big help that she went back again. They started seeing each other more often for Vulcan lessons and then bam!" he clapped his hands loudly and Chekov jumped, "hot and steamy affair. Of course, they had to keep it secret! He was still her teacher after all!"
There was a collective "ooh" from the people seated around the table. Except Jim, who was too busy eating.
"That's not very exciting," remarked Jim through a mouthful of his sandwich, "I was expecting something scandalous. I mean, who hasn't fucked a teacher?"
His answer came in the silence and wide-eyed stares of his table mates.
"Oh. I guess none of you have," he said and then buried his mouth in his sandwich. There was a few seconds of awkward silence, which Jim ignored in favour of stuffing his face. Eventually Chekov spoke up.
"It is scandalous, sir," he helpfully informed him, the scandal as clear in his voice as his thick accent, "he was her teacher! This is like a conflict of the interests. In Russia, something like this would never happen!"
"I can't believe you said that, Captain!" said Sulu, obviously still caught up on his silly little comment about fucking teachers. It's not like it was a big deal or anything, "I hope you know that the whole ship is going to know that by tomorrow morning."
Jim groaned. Bones laughed at him. Well, he smirked at him. Same thing.
Captain Kirk had gotten used to the fact that the universe hated him by now. It was just a fact of life that he had to accept. What he couldn't accept, however, was when people hated him. Especially when he hadn't really done anything to provoke them. Maybe Spock's dislike was warranted...he had defied him at every turn while he was Captain and failed to save his planet and then insulted him and his dead mother. That might be cause enough for dislike. And at least Spock was trying to be cordial to him. But Ambassador Grace was just being a dick.
Unfortunately, Jim wasn't in a position to do much about it. He'd only just started as Captain and couldn't afford to be pissing off dignitaries already. That was for later, when he had a chest full of medals.
"Captain Kirk," he was saying, in a voice that Jim was already beginning to despise hearing, "I must insist you provide me with more appropriate quarters."
"What's wrong with them?" Jim asked, afraid of the answer.
"The bed is grossly undersized, and much too firm. The decor also leaves much to be desired. The walls are grey. The floor is grey. There is no window or view hole. You think this is suitable for a person of my position?"
"I'm sorry, sir," Jim said, trying hard to reach up and wipe the spit off his cheek, which had gotten there courtesy of his irate guest, "This is a scientific and war vessel. It is simply not equipped for luxury."
"Find a way to equip it, Captain! I expect to be treated well, and this is not good enough. Give me your quarters if you have to." This time, Jim immediately reached up to remove the saliva now decorating his face.
"I think you'll find that my quarters are even less well equipped than your guest quarters. Have a look if you want, but I guarantee, you'll find nothing there that differs from your current living space, with the exception of my personal effects."
"I think you'll find, Captain," said Ambassador Grace, leaning in close enough that Jim could feel his warm breath on his face. It was wholly unpleasant, "That I am a man you want to keep happy. First dignitary to ride on your control of the Enterprise. Don't want to screw this one up, do you?"
Ambassador Grace scowled at him as if to emphasize his point. The more Jim looked at him, the uglier he seemed. "If you'll excuse me," he said after several seconds of a staring show-down, turning on his heel to continue walking down the hallway to his quarters. Once there, he locked the door, sighing in frustration and stripping off all of his clothes. Naked, he stalked to his bathroom, practically throwing himself under the shower and then heading straight to bed. He didn't bother dressing.
This turned out to be a bad idea, because the next morning, when his door rang, he stumbled out of bed and had to hunt down his pants as the person buzzed again. He had just managed to get them on when it rang a third time, "I'm coming!" he yelled, even though the rooms were soundproofed, so that was pointless. He got the button done up and pressed the button, only to come face-to-face with the always immaculate Uhura. "Oh, hey," he said, suddenly feeling self-conscious as her eyes traveled from his bare feet up to his very-mussed sleep hair. Her look might have lingered on his bare stomach muscles, but he wouldn't bet money on it.
"Good morning, Captain," she said, and he stepped back to allow her in. She passed him, eyes roaming the clean room. He absentmindedly tried to flatten his hair, which was sticking up in unruly patterns all over his head, "I'm surprised you weren't awake already."
"It's only 0645, Uhura," he said in disbelief.
"Hmmm," she said, "Anyway, I came to ask if you know where Spock is."
Jim scratched his stomach with one hand and rubbed his jaw with the palm of the other, "No, I was asleep. I have no idea where he might be."
"Can you check on the computer?" she asked him, looking concerned.
"You can't?" he crossed the room to start rummaging for a shirt. There was no need to potentially piss his first officer off further by spending time half-naked in his room with the other man's girlfriend. He seemed to remember learning something about Vulcans being possessive creatures. Or was that just rumour? ...Or was it just some kind of porn that he had read?
Anyway it was probably better to be dressed if he were in the same room as Uhura. At least while she was still dating Spock. She'd be welcome to come back if she ever wasn't dating him though, and they could be as clothing-less as they pleased!
"You know that I don't have the authorization to do that unless we're on alert," she told him bluntly.
"Right," he had forgotten that, "There is a reason for that rule, though. Not sure I should be keeping tabs on your boyfriend for you Lieutenant."
"Just look it up," she ordered. Jim wasn't going to lie, it was just a tiny bit hot when she ordered him around. So he looked up Spock's location. It was in Science lab #9, most likely in his office, which was a small room connected to the lab.
"Don't tell him I looked this up for you," Jim told Uhura, who nodded. She had a determined look set on her face and he wondered what was going on, "I don't suppose you're going to tell me what this man hunt is about?"
"No," she said and marched towards the door.
"I don't believe I've dismissed you yet, Lieutenant," he said, smirking. She gave him a glare that could melt steel, but Jim was made of stronger stuff and stood his ground. A brief stare-down ensued, before Jim got bored and waved a hand flippantly, "Fine, fine. But no upsetting Spock before Alpha shift. I don't want to have to deal with him being pissy the entire time he's on the bridge."
"Spock doesn't get pissy," she started, "He's a Vulcan."
"He may be half-Vulcan, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get pissy," Jim told her seriously, "I don't want to put up with that shit, you hear me? Now, go give him some TLC and maybe we'll have a nice, relaxed Spock today." At her look of offended disbelief, he laughed, "I'm kidding, of course. Spock never relaxes," he threw himself into the chair by his computer terminal, "Now run along Lieutenant. See you on the bridge in one hour and fifteen."
She really was the master of dirty looks. Jim wondered if perhaps he should feel less turned on by that than he actually was.
