The halls of K-7 are surprisingly deserted as Spock helps Jim back to his quarters, and although he looks unconcerned, Jim can feel tension thrumming through him like a coiled spring.
"Spock, really, I'm fine."
"Dr. McCoy insisted that you return to your quarters and rest."
"He worries too much."
"While I am inclined to agree that worrying as he does is illogical-"
"See?"
"In this case, I am inclined to agree with him."
Jim shakes his head, even though it hurts to do so. "I have to get back to the manager's office, file a complaint about those... Klingons."
"I would not recommend that course of action. Besides, we are nearly at your quarters."
"Spock-."
"Captain. I do not wish to use force, but Dr. McCoy outranks you in matters of medicine. And you need rest."
"Well..." Jim licks his lips, wincing as his lower lip throbs in response. "I guess... I could take a short break."
"I could go in your stead, if that would ease your mind."
Jim looks at him, and smiles. "There isn't anyone else I'd trust to do it."
"Thank you, Captain."
"Not at all," Jim says, feeling more magnanimous as the medicine Bones gave him starts to kick in. "How bad did I do, really?"
He thinks Spock almost smiles. "Given the probability of your being seriously injured or killed by the Klingons you provoked-."
"Provoked?"
"I would say you did well, Captain, although the probability of your succeeding was very small."
"Perhaps I should... consult you next time about the probability then, Spock."
"It would be logical."
Jim smiles, even though it only makes his lip hurt more, but it fades when they arrive at his assigned quarters.
"Will you be heading back to the Enterprise?" he asks, leaning against the wall as the door slides open. "Or have they assigned you quarters here too?"
"A captain's privilege, regrettably."
"Not at all," Jim assures him, still leaning against the doorway. "Someone needs to look after the Enterprise... and with you, she's in capable hands."
"Mr. Scott is adequate-."
"Thank you, Mr. Spock."
"Is there anything else you require, Captain?"
"Not at all. I think I'll... get cleaned up and try and get some rest. Smooth things over with the Klingons tomorrow."
"It would be logical to negotiate with Koloth, since you are already acquainted."
"Koloth and his men frequently enjoy calling me names - or have you forgotten Mr. Scott's previous attempts to defend my honour?"
"If I recall, Mr. Scott was defending the ship-."
"Just a little joke, Spock."
"Extremely little," Spock agrees, and Jim smiles at him.
"Thanks again, Spock."
"You are welcome, Captain. Will I see you tomorrow?"
"Oh, I expect so."
"Goodnight, Captain."
"Goodnight, Spock."
Jim steps into the room, stopping dead when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
He's got the beginnings of a wonderful black eye, a split lip, and despite Bones's skill in medicine, his ribs still feel as though they've been taken out, barbecued, and put back in place.
He pulls his shirt halfway over his head, pain making spots pop in front of his eyes, a constellation of bruises across his ribs and back.
"Captain?"
"Spock?" he asks, turning around.
Spock is still standing in the doorway to his quarters, his eyes fixed on Jim's bruises.
"Oh, what, this? It's nothing, Spock. Dismissed."
"Captain, you must be in... considerable pain," Spock says.
"Spock, really, it just looks bad. It doesn't hurt."
"Are you sure, Captain?"
"Well... mostly sure. You can call Bones back down if you like."
"No, I trust that his medical opinion is sound."
Jim turns back to the mirror, but his eyes meet Spock's in the reflection, and he sighs. "Spock…"
"Allow me, Captain," Spock says, walking over, and gently lifting the shirt over Jim's head, his fingers cool when they brush over Jim's bruises.
Jim shivers involuntarily, and then winces at the bolt of pain when he turns around. "Spock, I really don't need any help. It's just a few bruises."
"Jim," Spock says softly. "You are in pain. Let me help."
Jim wants to say no, wants to have peace and quiet to lick his wounds, but the way Spock is looking at him, still holding Jim's bloodstained shirt – he can't refuse.
"Alright."
"I think you should clean the wounds first. The chances of infection are low, but…"
"But?"
"Any illness would be detrimental to our mission here."
Jim smiles, his lip throbbing as he does. "Naturally."
"You have several deep gashes," Spock says, his fingers brushing across Jim's lower back. "Here… and here."
"I guess I'd better clean up. You can wait here, if you like, Mr. Spock. I don't think I'll be long."
Jim limps his way over to the bathroom, but instead of a regulation shower stall, there's a beautiful bathtub set into the wall, a window showing the stars outside.
But there's no shower to be seen.
Jim lets out a low whistle. "Mr. Spock, it seems you were right about a captain's privilege."
"Explain."
"Come see for yourself."
Spock walks over, standing beside Jim in the doorway. "Ah."
"It's certainly better than our bathroom back on the Enterprise, isn't it, Mr. Spock? Very roomy."
"Not exactly a logical use of space on a space station, Captain. A luxury, if ever I saw one."
"Yes, well," Jim says, waving his hand as he imitates Captain Koloth. "You Vulcans are not as luxury-minded as us Earthers, after all."
Spock looks as though he's trying to hide a smile, and it makes Jim grin. "Certainly, Captain."
"Now, I… do believe that'll be all, Mr. Spock. We've had a long day."
"Captain… forgive me, I do not wish to make you uncomfortable."
Jim, who is busy leaning over the edge of the tub to turn on the tap, turns. "But?"
"Would it not be logical for me to help?"
Jim flushes hot, hot enough that the water running from the tap over his fingers suddenly seems cool by comparison. "H-Help, Mr. Spock?"
"Some of your injuries… may be difficult for you to reach without assistance."
"And you… want to help."
"Yes, Captain."
"Fine, just… turn around."
Spock raises an eyebrow. "I will never understand man's need for privacy."
"You don't have to understand it, Spock, but please. Turn around."
"Very well."
Spock obliges, turning around in the doorway as Jim carefully undoes his pants and boots, stepping out of them, and into the tub, hissing in pain as the warm water meets the wounds on his back.
He's feeling very shy all of a sudden, looking out at the stars over the space station instead of Spock. "You uh… you can turn around now, Mr. Spock."
"Very well."
"How bad is it?" he asks, hearing Spock's footsteps on the tile.
"Lean forward."
Jim does, baring his back to Spock, his face hot as he rests his chin on his knees.
"Captain… I would advise caution in the future," Spock says, pressing a damp cloth gently to Jim's back.
"Oh?"
"You were fortunate this time, but the probability was against you."
Jim hisses through his teeth as Spock touches a particular tender gash.
"I'm sorry, Jim."
"It's okay, Spock."
"Why did you fight the Klingons? I did not know there had been an altercation until Mr. Scott informed me."
"Well, they said some unkind things about the Federation."
"Hardly a reason to brawl, Captain."
"They think they're better than us – and they're barbaric." Jim winces as Spock presses the cloth down hard. "But that isn't the real reason."
"I should think not, given that you are usually an exemplary model of Federation diplomacy."
"Spock, was that sarcasm?"
"No."
Jim smiles, letting the lie go. "It was about you."
"Me?"
"That mouthy Klingon – Koloth's right hand man – said some unkind things about your character. I asked him nicely to shut up, but the… negotiations broke down."
"Jim," Spock says softly, the cloth going still against Jim's back. "I am no stranger to prejudice. My honour does not need defending."
"Maybe not," Jim says, turning around, looking up at his first officer even though it hurts to do so. "But it was worth it."
Spock is blushing green to the tips of his ears. "A highly sentimental and illogical notion… that I do appreciate."
"I thought you might." Jim smiles to himself. "You're the best first officer in the fleet, Spock. The Enterprise is lucky you have you."
Not just the Enterprise, he thinks.
"Based on my skills, Captain, I would have to agree," Spock says, his palms pressed against Jim's back, steadying him. "But I am fortunate too."
"Oh?"
"My position in Starfleet is secure… and I am at your side. I can ask for nothing more, or nothing less."
Jim smiles. "Spock?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"You're welcome, Captain."
And Jim looks up at the stars through the porthole, and thinks about how lucky he is that man looked to the stars – because it brought him to this time and this place.
And to Spock.
