A/N: You many officially blame Product of a Sick Society for the lag: we were having these EPIC debates about atomic theory and time and Tim Horton's (Canadian coffee shop) and Target and then I went 'OH SHIT' and realized that I hadn't written anything non-Canada related for a while, and so I sat down and dashed this off while waiting for her to reply back.

Chapter dedicated to Product of a Sick Society, for making me love atoms again :D

.bdobd.

Fifteen days after landing on Tellar, Spock decided to exit his quarters.

He had considered the words of T'Pau in depth, and had come to the conclusion that if the Captain had taken offence to his actions, then his first task was to apologize to the human in the Terran manner. It was, after all, his insistence on the application of Surakian principles to every order of business that had caused the disruption.

At least, he believed this to be the cause. The main obstacle that had impeded progress in his meditation was that Spock could not isolate when he had gone astray. T'Pau had called attention to a series of faults either so egregious or so subtle that Spock could not quite figure out what, exactly he had done wrong.

Most likely, the Captain would be able to explain.

Spock stood from his meditation posture, put away his candles, and changed from his robes to his Commander's uniform. It was past time he had returned to duty.

Locating the Captain proved to be an unexpected issue. No crewmember seemed to remember the blonde entering or leaving any room during the day.

None of said crewmembers had any explanation of how the captain of a constitution-class starship could not be seen on his own ship for the entirety of a day.

Finally, Spock was left with only one area left to explore: the Security decks.

The Security Decks housed few actual crewpeople; there was simply no need to do so. Live surveillance of camera footage was unneeded; there had been programs for detecting unusual behavior patterns in such tapes for decades.

As the Captain had an odd habit of being in the exact place he was least expected to be, Spock really should not have been surprised to have met him exiting a surveillances room.

He appeared surprised, but not negatively affected. "Spock! I was just thinking about you. How've you been, I haven't seen you around much."

It was a gross understatement. Spock had not reported for duty for half of a Standard month. A hot wave of shame hit the hybrid, and the Commander worked to repress it.

"I… Captain, may we speak in a more secluded area?"

The Captain blinked. His apparent incredulity was understandable: there was no one in the corridor excepting themselves. But Spock had the distinct impression that T'Pau would ask the Captain to provide evidence of his amends, and the Security decks were the only places on the ship without surveillance equipment. Why would the surveillance team need to survey themselves?

"Um, yeah? Where'd you have in mind?"

"Would recreation room 4 suffice?"

The Captain was looking at him strangely. Spock could not decode his expression. "…Yeah, that's fine." He gestured for Spock to begin moving.

They were waiting for the turbolift to become available when the Captain spoke again. "You know, you never told me how you've been."

The Captain seemed… amused? Pleased? Condescending? Saddened? Why could he not read his superior as was usual; when had he failed even in this? Jim's – no, the Captain's, he was being disrespectful – eyes widened and the human rushed to alter his request. "Look, you don't have to tell me, I was just curious."

Spock glanced almost desperately at the other man. What was he to say?

Whatever the Captain had been feeling, it had quickly turned to concern. "Look, Spock, do you need to go to Sickbay? Because you're acting kind of strangely, I can't tell what's going on."

What was he to say?

The turbolift's doors opened and Lieutenant T'Rnak stepped out. Jim – no, the Captain, had he just not corrected this error? – looked for Spock to make a decision: were they to proceed to room 4, or was Spock to declare himself ill?

Spock stepped into the lift. Kirk – was 'Kirk' disrespectful'? – the Captain seemed suspicious.

It was an uncomfortable trip for no rational reason.

The lift finally stopped at Deck Q and a Half – which was not the official name, but as the majority of the crew seemed ignorant of its proper title, so it had become the most efficient to use the adopted one. The two officers entered the recreation room and sat on couches opposite each other.

There was silence for one and five-eighths minutes.

Then the Captain leaned forward, clearly very uneasy. "Spock. Look at me." Spock had been staring at the table in between the two sofas, content to avoid direct eye contact with his superior.

Spock looked directly at his captain, and felt ill. He had no clairvoyant tendencies, but he suddenly had the distinct impression that this conversation was not going to be an enjoyable experience.

"Hey." The Captain adopted a softer tone. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on. Can you tell me what's been happening to you?"

Spock blinked quietly for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "…I met with T'Pau on Tellar, and we had a discussion."

He paused, wondering how much of his conversation was private clan business and how much the Captain would need. Not much, he was more interested in the effects of it, apparently. "In it, she brought to my attention the fact that I have been increasingly contemptuous towards you and my position in Starfleet."

Spock bowed his head. "I have…attempted to solve the issue through meditation, but in doing so I realize that I have neglected my duties as an officer aboard your vessel. I…I do not know what to do."

The Captain was gaping at him. He appeared totally stunned. "…Spock?"

The hybrid braced himself for a huge emotional reaction. "Yes, Captain?"

"I…" The Captain leaned back into the couch and put a hand to his forehead, pressing as if to ensure that it was still there. "I…You…Are you fucking kidding me?"

The Captain was suddenly on his feet, yelling. Spock shrank back into the couch, almost relieved to have gotten an easily quantifiable reaction. Better than the news of the Narada's planned trajectory, worse than the news of the arrival of many diplomats.

"I'm stuck with a shipload of diplomatic assholes, who won't fucking leave me alone because I keep on saying I'll schedule a meeting and then genuinely important shit comes up and I have to cancel, and you haven't been able to stand in for me because your fucking aunt called you arrogant?"

The blonde began to roam his side of the room, visibly shaking with barely restrained anger. "I mean, I thought that you'd been, I don't know, gathering information or something fucking PRODUCTIVE and here you are telling me that you sat on your bed with your thumb up your ass and thought deeply? I've been running this goddamned thing alone for more than two weeks; just who the fuck do you think you are? You can NOT do that on my ship, do you understand me?"

The Captain had planted himself directly in Spock's line of sight across the table, leaning close to shout as loudly as he could directly at the disobedient hybrid. Spock bowed his head. "Yes, Captain. What are my orders as how to rectify the consequences of my behavior?"

The Captain blinked at him in apparent…shock, yes, that was definitely shock. "…What?"

He had switched to his normal speaking tone, though it was hoarse from shouting. "Clearly, I have been derelict in my actions and thoughts. What are my directives for repairing the damage I have wrought?"

The blonde straightened and looked to him as if stunned. "…I…What the hell?" He shook his head as if to rid it of unwelcome thoughts. "Waitaminnut. What?…What exactly did T'Pau say? Because two weeks ago, if I'd've done this you'd've beaten me like it was going out of style. What the hell happened to you?"

Spock blinked at him. "I was told that my behavior was unacceptable, by the head of my family, and that I was to cease immediately, or punishment would be afflicted."

The Captain looked horrified. "What?" The human crossed his arms and became totally professional. "Tell me exactly what she said."

Spock did not understand why this was so shocking to the Captain, and knew that he must appear very obtuse at the moment. "T'Pau spoke in High Vulcan, shall I –?"

"Translate it. As literally as possible, or as what you understood it to mean."

Whatever the Captain's reaction to this, it was not going to be positive. "'Thou shalt serve whom you hath chosen to subordinate or a commander shalt be chosen for thee. Thou hath had the opportunity to serve under a people of your choosing, even during a true crisis of Vulcan; if thou art to disregard such thou shalt be ordered back to thine home planet where thou shalt stay for as long as thy Council wills it.'"

Spock had expected a fury of some sort. Not horror. "Wait. If you don't act like she thinks you should, she'll take you away from me?"

The hybrid blinked some more. "I…I suppose that is one interpretation. Iwas… more concerned with being ordered back to Vulcan II without consultation, but –,"

"But, wait, it's been pretty well proven that I can't function without you; they can't do that."

"…Yes they can."

"What? Since when?" The Captain began pacing again, but not out of anger: he was obviously distraught, but Spock had no idea as to why. "Why can they do that?"

"…I am a Vulcan citizen. Why should the High Council of Vulcan be unable to order me to the colony to participate in trials or questionings pertaining to the safety of Vulcan? The Terran government has the power to direct its citizens as well."

"But…" Kirk ran his hands through his hair. "This doesn't count for that; this's Fleet business, not Vulcan! Right?"

When had this turned from Spock asking for direction to Kirk asking for comfort? "As Vulcans are now an endangered species, such an argument would not be very strong. If I am ordered, I shall go."

"The hell you will!" Kirk came around the table to yell at Spock from behind the armrest. "Do you know what utter shit these past three days have been? I did an – did you see the interview?"

Spock blinked quietly for a moment at the sudden change in topic and tone. Kirk sighed. "Okay, apparently not. I sat down with Nowmi for an hour to get her to take her camera off of the Bridge. Were you there for that?"

Spock shook his head. "Fuck, you did miss a lot. Right, from the beginning:" Kirk resettled himself in preparation. "We beamed down to Tellar, you talked to T'Pau, I talked to the Tellarites, crew were carted away. We all beamed back, you ran away to go sit on your ass."

The hybrid winced at the characterization, but said nothing. He deserved this. "So Nowmi starts hounding me for an interview and I say instead, I'll let a camera on the Bridge. She sets up a live feed so anyone can watch what we do, and it's stupidly stressful for everyone, so I wind up agreeing to do an interview."

The blonde inhaled noisily. "So, in said interview, I mentioned that you were amazing – ignoring the fact that you weren't with me, of course – and that pissed off the other Captains. I also managed to say that you had the most influence within the Fleet, which fucking terrified the Admiralty and pissed off all of the Councilpeople.

"So then the Councilpeople – being idiots, the fucking lot of them – they start calling the Admiralty to complain, forgetting, of course, that all of the Admirals are on the same fucking ship that they are! So now there are these verbal knock-down-drag-out sessions at lunch where it's Barnett v. Anjrew, or something, and then everyone stuffs their faces, agrees I'm an idiot, and calms down, just to repeat the whole damn thing tomorrow!

"And through all of this, I'm having constant complaints from these fuckers that I'm not giving them enough attention, that I really should talk to them more, and I tell them that 'As soon as Spock's better, we can fix this, 'cause there's gotta be someone running the ship and Sulu's nearly dead and Mathers is an idiot, and you weren't there!"

Kirk was huffing softly by the end of his tirade. "And so!" he continued, "I still have no idea why you thought it was okay to abandon me to the fucking wolves."

The Captain crossed his arms and waited for a response.

Spock… Really did not have one to give. "…I am afraid that I can offer you no excuses, sir. Or explanations. I behaved abominably. I acted contrary to my duties as your First Officer and as a Commander of Starfleet." He bowed his head. "I am unsure as to how to rectify the damages done by my actions."

The Captain took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay. From the top, then. Again. What did you do for fifteen days?"

"I was in deep meditation."

"You meditated for fifteen days."

"Affermative."

"Jesus fucking Christ." The Captain took another breath. Spock thought of recommending an appointment with Doctor McCoy to see to his respiratory issues, but decided against it. "Alright. Alright, so, did you talk to anyone during that time?"

"Negative."

"No one. Anyone at all. Voices in your head that sound suspiciously like Barnett. Anyone."

"Admiral Barnett, sir?" Spock was confused. "I fail to see what the Commodore has to do with this discussion."

Kirk gave him a level stare. "You don't even have an inkling of what's going on, do you."

Spock's mother once described a sensation of being 'kicked in the stomach'. Apparently, it had little to do with the actual organ involved, more with the emotions of surprise and shock and horror that immediately followed such an attack.

Spock flinched, then swallowed. "…I… Apparently not, sir."

Kirk gave him an odd look, and then appeared horrified again. "Shit, Spock I'm sorry, I didn't… I should've –,"

"It is apparently an apt description of my knowledge of current events. You are simply bringing my attention to this fact."

Kirk bit his lip in clear distress, "No, it's –,"

"You were in the midst of an inquiry, sir?"

Kirk halted his speech and sighed, depressed. "Yeah, I was. So you didn't talk to anyone?"

"I communicated to or with no person through any means."

"Okay." Kirk took another deep breath. Was he attempting to calm himself? It was not very effective. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"No."

"I'm sorry."

"It is unnecessary. What are my directives?"

"What?"

"Unless I am under suspension for poor performance?" Kirk gaped at him, and Spock stood. Of course he was under suspension, he had run from his duties and his commanding officer for two weeks. "I apologize for my assumptions, Captain, I shall –. Captain?"

The Captain had his head in his hands and his shoulders were shaking. It did not sound as if he was crying, however, so, "Sir, are you laughing?"

Kirk raised his head from his hands. He was chuckling softly, but he sounded slightly hysterical. "Didn't mean to, s'rry. I just –," he was interrupted by his own laughter, "no, no, you're not suspended. Fuck, what am I gonna do without you? I can't do this by myself, these last three days've beaten that shit too far into my head to ignore it."

"…I am… uncertain to as to respond properly, sir."

Kirk sighed. "For gods sakes, if you've seen me this pissed and are still in the same room with me, call me Jim. Or else I'll really go crazy."

Spock considered this carefully. He was still not sure what T'Pau was seeking, but surely, whatever it was, it did not exclude helping Kirk. "Yes, sir."

Kirk glared at him playfully. "Jim."

"…Jim. Are you sure?"

Jim grinned wanly. "Not really. But I'll give it a shot."

.bdobd.

During the next five days Jim had the dubious pleasure of seeing Spock utterly pwn every diplomat on the ship. The first day back, he walked in at lunch and led a group of five off, presumably to a rec room, and returned them two minutes later. They looked like they'd just been kicked in the nuts.

He did that for the entire lunch hour, until he'd 'talked' with every one of them. When Jim had pulled him aside afterwards, asking him how he'd done it, Spock had shrugged innocently and said that he's 'simply described the appropriate methodology for talking with the Captain of a Starfleet flagship.'

That was five days ago, and it still made Jim grin.

The four days after the Mess Hall Massacre (Spock didn't like the name, but Sulu had decided it would stick, so it had. Sulu was cool like that) weren't nearly as amazing; it was lots of negotiations with people who didn't know what they wanted.

Day five was filled with Jim on the Captain's Chair, yelling at the Tellaritian dockhands on the mainscreen, while Spock Looked Extremely Displeased in the background.

The Tellarites wanted to keep his crew. Badly. Scotty'd trained them well, and they were doing amazingly, and the dock wanted to keep them.

Jim was not about to abandon his men on some random planet, and he was yelling this at Ambassador Thran (normally a great guy, but now, just, no) who wasn't looking particularly convinced. Spock was breaking in to make another great-point-that-would-be-ignored when Barnett came onto the deck for no apparent reason.

"Commander Spock, a word?"

"I need him right now, can it wait?" Kirk said over his shoulder.

Spock looked torn. "…Commodore Barnett, we are in the middle of negotiations with the Tellaritian dock, may I –,"

"They are attempting to steal away our best workers! Commodore Barnett, surely you do not –,"

"Shut up, Thran." Thran, Jim, Spock, and the entirety of the bridge crew gawped at the Commodore. "Commander, with me."

"I…I believe I am needed here until –,"

Barnett sighed. "Kirk, what do you need him for?"

Kirk decided to ignore the fact that Barnett addressed everyone by their title, except for him. "The dock's trying to keep my crew. I sent them down with the knowledge that they'd be returned to us before we left the dock."

"Do you really need to leave now?"

"We have a contract of twenty days, sir, it ran out. I had assumed that you had already known, seeing as you signed the order."

Barnett made a show of rolling his eyes and turned to the furious ambassador on screen. "Thran, let them go."

"We are in need of them –,"

"If you need them so much you can reapply for their time. Let them go. The contract is done."

Thran looked ready to hit something. Jim sympathized completely. "…Fine. The crew shall be released."

Kirk nodded, "Good, send us some coordinates and we'll beam them right –,"

"No. The Commander and I will pick them up."

Spock blinked at Barnett. "Commodore, I –,"

"Is that acceptable, Thran?"

"NO," Kirk protested, "it is not. I need him here, there is work to be done –,"

The Ambassador ignored the absolutely incensed human. "That is acceptable, Commodore. We many have tasks where the Commander's help would be quite useful."

Kirk spluttered. "But I need him here, I've got a meeting with Topos in ten minutes –,"

Barnett was looking at him like he was a disobedient dog. "You can't talk to Topos on your own?"

Spock jumped in quickly, "Commodore, I recognize that there are tasks to be completed inside the docks but Ambassador Topos has specifically requested a meeting with the two of us; can not the docks remain functional for an additional half hour?"

"Kirk, order your Engineer to prep the transporter room. The Commander and I are beaming down to the dock now."

Kirk heard his teeth squeal as he reached for the comm link on his armrest. "Scotty," he ground out.

"Aye, Cap'n?"

"Prepare to beam two down to the dock."

"Cap'n?"

"I'll explain later. Now, Scotty."

"A'ight. As long as Ah ge' eno' time to get 'em both up before we unhook, tha' shoul'na be a prob'm."

"Thanks, Scotty." Kirk turned to Barnett and tried to see if one could kick another person in the groin with only a look.

Barnett nodded smugly. Damnit, didn't work. "With me, Commander."

Shit, this'd be so much easier if Spock didn't look so panicked. "Commodore, I must –,"

"Now, Commander, or that's insubordination."

Spock flinched and scuttled after Barnett, leaving Kirk alone, again. Thran watched them go with some compassion. "Your Commander is attempting loyalty. This is something, at the very least."

Jim smiled at him wanly. "'S just that if he fails, he takes me down with him."

.bdobd.

Jim was reduced to prowling ineffectually about the ship, fighting of a heavy cloud of impotency that seemed to follow him around like one of Archer's damned beagles.

His mood dissuaded all but T'Panya from coming near him. She glided in, happy as a clam, took one look at him staring about the rec room, and decided to not leave him be for the rest of the day.

"Captain, I had not realized you frequented this area."

She placed herself in a chair while (somehow) simultaneously making it known that she would not be moving for love or money. "Hi T'Panya."

"For this reason, I am interested in your current location."

Jim glared at her. It didn't work. "I'm looking for Spock, even though I know he's not here."

T'Panya raised an eyebrow. "That is an inefficient use of your time."

"I know that, thank you."

The woman blinked at him. He sighed. "Surely, you have something better to do than talk to me."

"Yes. I am to convince you to allow me to accompany you down to the dock."

Jim gave her A Look. "I haven't even decided to go down to the dock yet."

"It was only a matter of timing. You would surely have considered the idea within the hour. I am attempting to ensure that I shall be beaming down with you."

She did an odd Vulcan-beaming-smile. Jim blinked. "Um. I really don't think that that'd be a –,"

"Surely I would pose no problems to your quest?"

"…I wouldn't call it a 'quest', per say."

"What term would you prefer?"

Jim looked at her carefully, taking in her consciously obstinate determination. He sighed. "Can you be ready in twenty minutes?"

She gave him a huge, weird, not-smile. "I can be ready in ten, sir." She flounced out of the room, pausing in the doorway. "…Thank you, Captain. You are kind to allow me this privilege." Then she continued merrily on her way.

Jim sighed again. 'These Vulcans are going to be the death of me…'

He stood and stretched. Someday, someone would find a cure for loneliness that didn't involve other people. Until then, he was stuck wandering around a Tellaritian base with an oddly peppy reporter.

.bdobd.