Hey :D
Vulcan translations at the end
"So," Jim said once he and Spock were sitting safely on the floor of his room, "somehow there's an elf with pyro tendencies and something that could be a flying saucer that exploded in mom's field."
Spock blinked at him.
"And!" Jim continued, "the elf doesn't understand a single word I'm saying, which is great."
Spock's expression changed minutely.
"Don't you give me that look. I know you probably think I'm crazy, and I know you're probably an alien but I was asleep for like, an hour and now I am freaking out! So, Spock. What the fuck are we gonna do!"
Spock frowned slightly. "kauk hi i ma wuh pi' li-fal ret, i dva-tor du nam-tor flekh na' wuh komihn."
Jim flopped back onto the wooden floor. "We can't just sit here talking to ourselves forever. Dumbass Frank is gonna wake up soon and I'm gonna have to pretend to go to school and then pretend I don't know why the field burnt down when I get back from pretending to go to school."
"I bolau zaprah wuh el'mish," Spock said, and out of the corner of his eye, Jim saw spock stand up and walk over to the door. He sat up.
"You wanna go outside?" Jim asked. Spock didn't move.
"Well, alright." Jim stood up, opened the door, and looked down the hallway as discreetly as he could. "But we gotta be quiet, okay?'
Spock blinked at him.
"Yeah, you're a real chatterbox but we gotta-" he put a finger to his lips and Spock turned green which was, uh, new "-shhhhh!"
Jim definitely had an alien in his house. Area 52 FBI people were gonna put a boot through his window. More importantly, as long as Spock was green Jim couldn't pass off Spock as "some kid from school." Not that Frank would believe that if he woke up - aside from the fact it was ass o'clock in the morning, Jim didn't have any friends (Bones was too old to count). And even if he did, he wouldn't bring them round to this shithole.
Jim grabbed Spock's hand only for it to be immediately yanked back. He raised an eyebrow as Spock cradled his hand to his chest.
"Whatever, just stay close," Jim whispered, knowing he wouldn't be understood but hopefully the message got across somewhat.
They managed to make it all the way downstairs and to the back door before Jim heard shuffling on the living room couch. The sound triggered his fucking fight or flight and without a second of hesitation Jim hauled Spock out the back door and blocked it from opening by turning around and leaning on it. The door rattled as Spock tried to get back in.
"Jim…?" came a low grumble from the couch.
"Uh, hey, Frank," Jim said.
A heavy hand came up to grip the tattered green and white flowered sofa. It really was a bad choice but he could really fault his parents for buying it - they were on a budget, his mother had once said, newlyweds often are. And it matched the other dime store, second hand crap they got.
"Th'fuck you doing making this much noise in the morning," Frank said, lifting himself up to get a look at Jim. The rattling had stopped. "And why are you going out back? Don't you have… fuckin'... school, or whatever."
"Uh, yep! I'll get right on that, I just remembered I left my - my shoes outside. So I'm going to get them."
"Your shoes?" Frank deadpanned, "Don't lie to me you piece of shit, I ain't stupid."
"You're not? Could've fooled me," Jim replied, because that's what he did. It was their little routine.
"What did you say to me?" Frank asked, even though it wasn't a question. Not when it was said that deeply, and not when he was getting up off the couch like that.
"Wow! Deaf and dumb, you're really pushing it today, Frank," Jim said because it would distract Frank from the tuft of black hair and pair of black eyes looking through the window, "what time did you get back anyway? An hour ago? Two? You know, I don't think you're really applicable for the 'the more you drink the more attractive everyone gets' because you're obviously not getting any now that mom's-"
Whap! Right on the cheek with those stupid meaty hands of his. It gave Jim whiplash to try and keep up with how fast his head could turn. But he didn't let go of the door.
"Your mom," Frank said, in that same what did you say to me tone, "is on a business trip because Sam's not here and she can't bear to see your ugly mug any longer than she has to."
"I hate to break it to you buddy but there's two ugly mugs here she's not bearing, and they can't both be mine," Jim wheezed, and Frank clenched a fist in Jim's hair. He didn't let go of the door.
Frank wrenched his face up. "One day, you'll realise that this roof over your head and that fucking field is the best you're ever gonna be, and then you might learn some fucking respect."
He threw Jim's head down with a carelessness only people in power have - and he did have power, because despite all Jim's wit and his backtalk and his see-if-I-care attitude, Frank owned this house, and his mom only ever sent paychecks like he was just another bill to pay.
"And you're gonna teach me, bastard?" he spat, and then ducked out the door. He waited, breathing heavily, for Frank to scuf his way back to the couch and pass out like Jim knew he would.
Spock was looking at him. He was no longer green.
"What," Jim hissed, "you don't have assholes on your planet?"
Spock shuffled over - of course he stays out of sight now that Frank can't fucking see him - and sat down next to Jim. He pointed out into the field. To his… ship?
Jim wanted to knock the back of his head on the wall, but it was too risky, so he sighed instead. "Sure. Lets go to the spaceship in my backyard, Spock."
Spock stood up, brushed his dress off, and held out a hand. He was green again.
Dawn was just creeping over the horizon when Spock finally figured out what he wanted with his stupid ship and Jim really wished he would hurry up because the sun made it hurt to look at - it was made from a metal that looked almost red but shone like anything. Spock stared at the side expectantly, and then knocked on it a couple of times when it remained inanimate. He frowned.
"What is it?" Jim asked.
Spock kicked the ship, and Jim burst out laughing. He looked like an angry toddler.
But then, the wall of the ship opened.
Spock relaxed slightly, but there was still a furrow in his brow. He stepped through the doorway and Jim frantically followed. It was like the inside of the Nostromo, only the interior didn't look like it was made from heavy duty lego and air vent pipes - more sleek than clunky, more function than fashion.
Although, it was like the Nostromo in that it looked like it was coming close to its second (or third) explosion - sparks flying and alien technology giving off alien warnings (nice to see red was a universal everything's going to shit colour). The ship was only one room, with a seat near the screen that had fallen over and while Jim was gaping at everything, Spock had dislodged a black square from the dashboard and had started pressing buttons.
"Hey hey hey, whoa, you can't take off! This thing's totaled!" Jim said, running up to him.
Spock said nothing. He pressed a big red button (also apparently a universally bad button), grabbed Jim's hand again, and ran out of the room.
Jim didn't feel as freaked out when he was holding Spock's hand. They were running away from Spock's spaceship, but he wasn't, y'know, freaking out freaking out. If anything, he might have been a little sad. Probably because his first-ever spaceship had fucking disappeared into thin air.
"What the fuck?" Jim said once they were back on the porch. He turned to Spock, who was now holding the black square in his right hand while sweeping a finger on his left over the surface.
Then, because the universe decided to cram a lifetime of weird into one day, the square lit up.
"What the fuck," Jim said again. Spock looked at him and then back down to the square. He frowned again, and then moved his finger in long, spiral motions.
He turned the screen around to Jim.
Mine/my/I database do/does not
have the/a word fuc(k)/phuc(k).
Please define.
"Uh, it's…" he trailed off, dumbfounded. Spock held up the device closer to his face, and Jim leaned slightly closer like it was a microphone, "it's a bad word that adults don't like to hear you say, but it can mean, like, uh sex or, just a general 'damn things are going badly,' or, uh, 'oh no!' kind of… thing."
They watched the screen as the words Jim was saying in English flashed up briefly before being replaced with swirls and lines linked together. Spock erased them and then began writing his own squiggles. Jim watched with rapt fascination as the swirls flickered and turned into English.
One's/your speech is (ill/not/un)logical.
Jim laughed. "I don't know where you come from but here unless you're like, a professor or something we're all pretty not-logical."
They waited for the translation. Spock drew more words, which then changed into English.
My/mine/I have/has surmised this to be true.
Although my/mine/II must admit to the/a bias
of little experience [science connotation]
and knowledge [academia connotation].
"Science?" Jim read, "is that why you're here? To run tests on humans?"
The lag time between talking and getting a response kind of put Jim on edge, if he was honest. It really made the whole alien thing really sink in. Especially if it turned out Spock was here to put probes up his butt and metal in his brain. God, what if Spock was actually adult size for his species and they were small because they were like, really dense and strong and what if his planet had lots of gravity like Krypton-
No. My father is an ambassador
and our ship/craft was attacked by
Tlingansu. I crashed here and my/mine/I
long-range communicator [low subspace band]
was damaged in the/a crash. My/mine/I being here
is breaking several rules.
"Your dad's a space ambassador? And you were attacked by other aliens? Wow, this is so cool-"
"JIM!" Frank yelled from inside. Jim grabbed Spock's hand and tugged him round the corner of the house, out of sight.
"Stay here," Jim hissed before running back to the porch door, "heya, Frank."
"I see you still don't have any shoes on," Frank leered.
"I'm a true-and-true Iowa boy, Frank. I just can't relax until I feel the dirt between my toes and the sun on my back."
Frank grabbed his arm in a vice-like hold. "You know what happens when you play smart with me boy, I'll- what the fuck did you do to my field you little shit?!"
Jim looked behind him. Ah yes, even though Spock's alien magic hid his ship it didn't hide the circle of burnt wheat. Ha, a real life crop circle made by a real life alien.
"An alien did it," Jim said, and Frank swiftly punched him in the gut. His face was an ugly red and his beady little eyes reminded Jim of the movie posters in his room this morning; wild and angry and burning a hole in his head.
"I told you," Frank warned, "what would happen if you got smart with me-" he slapped Jim on the back of his head "-but do you ever listen? Do you?!"
If Jim got smacked around enough, then Frank would be forced to call the school and say he was sick. Then he could get back to the alien around the corner.
"Honestly, I try not to," Jim said, "it blocks out the little voices in my head saying light the field on fire, Jimmy."
"Fucker," Frank glowered, and punched him again. And again. And then Frank went for his face - a blow that would leave a mark in mere minutes. Jim had won. (Had he?).
"Fuck." Frank let go of him and Jim stumbled. "You're not going into school today, you're going to fix what you did - as much as a fuck up like you can."
As Frank walked back inside, Jim gave a mocking salute. "Much obliged, I'll get on that never. Have fun avoiding that child abuse sentence."
Jim heard him take the phone off the receiver, which meant that Frank had to be facing away from the back door. Now or never. Jim took a deep breath, which he regretted instantly, and fetched Spock from around the corner.
"Come on, let's go while he's distracted," Jim waved, ignoring Spock's expression - although it was less of an expression, per se, and more of a stretching of muscles it seemed Spock had forgotten he had - some mixture of confusion and anger that Jim didn't care to analyse.
He opened the door carefully and ushered Spock upstairs. It wasn't until he was safely in his room with the door locked that Jim allowed himself to slump over and lie on his bed. His face hurt.
Spock was sitting on the floor with his back next to Jim's arm, frantically drawing on his device. Jim watched him realise his letters were too large for the amount of space/things he had to say ratio twice before sitting up and tapping him on the head.
"Hey," Jim mumbled, and Spock stopped writing in favour of watching the words appear in front of him, "don't you have a better way of communicating. You're never going to get a peace agreement with Earth if you keep this up, you know. You'll never get a word - or, uh, letter - in edgewise."
Spock's writing was calmer, now. More tense than frantic.
It/that is significantly faster to write
than to talk/speech, in my/mine/I case.
The/a Vuhlkansu language can convey
much with less. Although/but,
you/one know I did not come to Earth
for an agreement/treaty [legal connotation].
"Point still stands, though."
Spock hesitated.
There is a way/path. But it/that
is considered highly (im/not/un)proper and
invasive by many.
"Does it involve putting any sort of device into my body?" Jim asked. Spock looked scandalised by the translation (by Spock standards anyway, which was still pretty funny) (Jim wondered if Spock's species just had less facial muscles or something).
It/that do/does not. Vuhlkansu are touch
telepaths [tele;patheia].
"Holy shit you're gonna read my thoughts?" Jim said.
Spock shook his head once he understood what Jim said. He started writing again but Jim interrupted him.
"Wait, it's ok, just do it," he said.
Spock raised an eyebrow.
"I'm serious, go for it."
Spock checked the translation, and then sat facing Jim on the bed. He had long eyelashes. Jim could probably count them from this distance.
Jim saw something in his peripheral vision coming up to his face and instinctively flinched, moving out of the way so that his back hit the headboard.
It was Spock's hand.
Jim sighed. "Sorry. I probably shouldn't accept things without knowing what to do, right?"
Spock started writing again.
The/a mind meld involves touching
your/one's psi points. For both humans
and Vulkhansu, this is on the face.
my/mine/I have undertaken such the/a task
before, although/but never alone,
thus my/mine/I will require your/one's absolute
inaction.
The meaning behind Spock's words hit him a second too late. Spock had carefully placed his fingertips on the side of Jim's face and his eyes were closed. Once again, his skin had turned a light green. (Maybe Spock was allergic to humans?).
And Jim's mind exploded.
Vuclan:
- Even though I have a small sample space, I believe you are strange for a human.
- I must retrieve a device
- Tlingansu = Klingons
- Vuhlkansu = Vulcan(s)
I left "Klingons" and "Vulcans" the way the Vulcans say them bc I don't think that there would technically be a word for them in English yet? Jim could technically try and anglicise it but idk I just left them. Of course, I didn't think of this until I was uploading it so I now have to think about whether or not I'll call the Vulcans "Vuhlkansu" the whole fic. Thoughts?