Commander Spock awoke the next morning with a spinning head and a murderous case of cottonmouth.
"Feeling better?" Jim Kirk was hovering over him, bacon still sizzling in the frying pan in his hand.
"What are you doing here?" Spock asked uncertainly.
"Whipping up James Tiberius Kirk's patented hangover cure." He said, waving the frying pan around under Spock's nose.
"I still fail to understand how humans regard this as a preferable way to spend a weekend." Spock said, slumping forward, head in hands.
"Well, no one said a hangover was the preferred way to spend a weekend." Kirk replied, moving off and cracking a pair of eggs into the pan.
"Computer," Spock grumbled, squinting into his hands, "Please reduce ambient light by 22%"
As the light in the room dimmed, he hazarded a glance back up. Kirk had disappeared from view.
"Jim," Spock called.
"Hmm?" Kirk's head appeared in the kitchen doorway.
"What transpired after we left the bar last night?"
"Don't tell me you don't remember." Kirk replied gleefully.
"My memory of the events is somewhat… hazy." Spock said defensively.
"You mean 'absent.'"
"I mean hazy."
"Well, do you remember dragging me out of the bar?" Kirk asked.
"I did not 'drag' you. I simply enlisted your services to assist me."
"You dragged me. I brought you back here. Well…"
At that moment, as if on cue, a small yawn erupted from what Spock had assumed was just a pile of blankets nearby. If he had been human, his instinct would have been to leap about three feet in the air, but as he was not, he responded instead with a single raised eyebrow. Arietta sat up, looking baffled for a moment.
"Is that bacon?" She asked. Kirk's blue eyes glittered impishly as he swept out of the kitchen with plates of bacon and eggs.
"Please explain." Spock said levelly as Kirk pushed a fork into his hand.
"I enlisted some assistance of my own." Jim replied, snapping a strip of bacon in half.
Arietta found herself swathed in blankets. She had awoken several minutes before, but her mind was swimming. She was confused at first. These weren't her blankets. They smelled like Vulcan incense. She briefly recalled the number of drinks she'd had at the bar and wondered woefully if T'Lin had had to put her to bed. By the time she realized she had spent most of the night stone-cold sober, a new scent was invading, mingling with the incense.
"Is that bacon?" she asked, sitting bolt upright. It was only then that the missing pieces of the night began to filter back into her brain. Jim Kirk, wearing a Cheshire-cat grin, slipped a plate of bacon and eggs into her lap.
"Please explain."
Her eyes rose in response to the other voice in the room, and quickly darted back to her plate. That explained the incense. Her impending commission was becoming more awkward by the day. She wracked her brain, what had happened last night?
"I enlisted some assistance of my own." Kirk was saying. Assistance? Arietta remembered the stars, the dust swirling around her feet.
"It was a musical adventure!"
Arietta dropped her fork with a clatter. Of course Kirk would remember that. Great. Now they were both looking at her. Kirk with that maddening grin, Spock's brow suddenly furrowed, trying to excavate his own memory of this event.
"Come on, Spock, you mean you don't remember? You were enjoying yourself." Kirk lobbed a wadded up napkin at the Vulcan.
"I do not believe that is the correct term for…" Spock began.
"Don't even start with me. You know, I think that's the first time I've ever seen you smile? I didn't know you were even capable of…"
"You are attempting to elicit an emotional response from me, which you should already know is pointless." Spock began.
"Spock, if I were pulling your leg, I think I'd go more for dancing on tables with a lampshade on your head than 'smiling.'" Kirk cocked an eyebrow. "Besides, Arietta can corroborate."
Arietta looked up, beet red. He had indeed permitted the slightest of smiles to creep briefly across his face. Spock was gazing at her, patiently.
"You did, sir." She squeaked, before stuffing half a slice of bacon into her mouth to avoid having to answer further questions. He responded with a raised eyebrow.
"Fascinating. I do not recall such a response."
"It gets better." Kirk began.
Arietta blanched. No. No, it did not get better. She remembered now.
"Captain," She began.
"Is everybody determined to call me captain on our shore leave? You're not even a member of my crew yet!"
"I have to leave!" She began scrambling out of the nest of blankets.
"Nonsense. Your exams are over, I highly doubt you have anything to do that is half as interesting as listen to this story. I immediately take back what I just said, I am your captain, and as your captain, I am ordering you to sit down, enjoy my breakfast, and back me up on what happened last night."
Horrified, she sat back down, twisting the blankets through her hands. She remembered exactly what had happened the night before.
The three of them had reached Spock's door. It had opened with a squeak, waiting patiently for at least one of them to enter. Arietta had looked from Kirk to Spock somewhat expectantly.
"…And then you were looking at her all doe-y eyed…"
Oh god. Really?
"It wasn't doe eyed, I promise!" She shouted, a bit too loudly. Kirk looked at her a moment, then continued as though he had never been interrupted.
"And you wouldn't let us leave."
Arietta recalled him stumbling into his quarters, arms that had once been slung limply about their shoulders now lassoing them about the necks and dragging them inside.
"So I thought it was best if maybe we got you to sleep and then kept an eye on you." Kirk finished. "I could have sent Arietta home, but I really, really wanted witnesses for this." He was grinning from ear to ear.
"Witnesses to me eating bacon in my own quarters?" Spock asked.
"Were you listening to my story? You were drunk and it was hilarious. Bones will never believe me. I have to have someone to share this with." Kirk stood and began collecting now-empty plates. He made his way back to the kitchen. As soon as he was out of sight, Spock rose to his feet, and Arietta sprang up in response.
"Cadet Knight." He said, voice barely audible. "I must apologize for my lack of… decorum."
"So you DO remember what happened last night." She responded.
"I trust you understand that my actions were in no way representative of my character, and that any awkwardness I may have caused you with respect to myself was unintended."
"Awkwardness? You smiled at me and wouldn't get out of your own doorway." Arietta said with a grin.
"For you, perhaps, this is nothing. For me, it is quite significant. I must examine my own motivations."
"I… oh."
"I wish to thank you for rendering your assistance. I do not wish to detain you further. I will see you when you report for duty Monday morning."
"Sure thing."
A/N: Alright, kiddos. I've gotten enough notes on this that I'm going to address it here, instead of sending messages to the people who point it out to me. Yes, the word BACON was spoken here. To those of you who politely pointed out that Vulcans are vegetarian... thanks. To those of you who choose to message me with single-sentence statements dripping with superiority... piss off. We're going to handle this my way. It's a choose your own adventure! You've got four options:
1) It's bacon. Spock doesn't eat it, but rather shoves it around his plate disdainfully. Proceed to chapter 6.
2) Give Kirk some credit, how long have they known each other at this point? It's veggie bacon. Spock eats it. Proceed to chapter 6.
3) It's Spock's *house*. The replicator is programmed to make *everything* veggie-friendly. It's veggie bacon. Spock eats it. Proceed to chapter 6.
4) It's bacon. Bacon is delicious. Piss off. Proceed to chapter 6.
Pick whichever one you like best. Or, for the Vulcan purists, pick whichever one seems most logical. As much as I want it to be option 2, I secretly imagine it's option 1. Enjoy.