And here we go, Chapter 4! Hoo. –cracks knuckles- I nearly got a heart attack when I looked at my 'traffic'. I guess more people read on than I thought xD or else Spirk gets lots of love, heehee! So thank you everybody who takes the time to read my story! Reviews still make my world go round though ;)

~Aiji

Chapter 4

Bones' face was one big question mark. Jim knew he owed him an explanation. He didn't know what Gaila had been about to do to the doctor when Bones' foot was introduced to Jim's hand, but he could hazard a guess. It was Gaila, after all. The least he could do was explain why he hid under the table and left him to deal with a libidinous female.

Jim Kirk, hiding from an attractive woman? Unheard of.

He'd like to keep it that way.

"Look, Bones," he started, feeling wretched. "It wasn't supposed to amount to anything, alright? We met at the Galaxus Dinner two months back, and we, uhm, got to know each other a little better afterwards. I wasn't expecting it to continue or anything. To be honest, I think I was a bit buzzed, but she wouldn't let it go."

The look Bones gave him could have drilled through a wall.

"And I was curious, I admit it! You know what they say about Orions. But now she won't leave me alone. She's pushy."

"Never expected you to complain about a pushy girl, Jim."

"Me neither." Jim chewed the inside of his lip, feeling awkward. "Look, Bones, I'm sor-"

"Land sakes, Jim, don't apologise to me. Apologise to her. Explain to her what an idiot you are. And be nice about it." Jim nodded, full of dread. Bones wouldn't let it go- and it was not because he knew that Jim would find it difficult, but because it had to be done. Then a thought occurred to him.

"There's something I need to do first." Jim said and slid his PADD onto the table. He was through the door the next moment. He didn't hear Bones' remark, but he was sure it was dripping with Leonard McCoy brand sarcasm.

Down the stairway, to the central stairs, down those too. Base floor. There. Librarian's counter.

The Vulcan librarian was there, reading something on the computer. He looked up, and watched Jim approach. His gaze lingered on the patch on his head.

"Good afternoon," Jim began.

"Is it?"

Drat. This was going to be difficult.

"Let's say it is. I, uh. I need to talk to you." Then, because the Vulcan was still a member of staff, he added, "Sir."

The Vulcan maintained his unblinking gaze on him. Jim had the disconcerting feeling of an equation being analysed, and the uncomfortable urge to fidget returned. "Do you require assistance again?" For a moment Jim wondered whether he was referring to Kholovsky or Gaila.

"No, not as such, no." The extent of the déjà vu was disturbing. But that didn't turn out so bad, did it? His report. Whose grade he didn't check, he realised vaguely. But that wasn't really important. He took a deep breath, keeping his voice low. "I need to talk to you, about Gail- about Cadet Gaila."

The Vulcan's gaze remained steady, so Jim plunged on. "It was a misunderstanding, sir, she is a nice girl really, and I don't want a black mark on her record, she didn't do anything, if you think about it, so could you let her off?" He stopped, inhaled. The Vulcan continued watching him silently. There wasn't even the slightest flicker of emotion, or sign of understanding, accusation, nothing. Just a chocolate stare on a green-tinged blank canvas.

He's going to mark her down, Jim thought suddenly. He's going to mark her down because she violated the regulations on his shift, and it's my fault. Just because of that stupid Dinner, with the stupid alcohol and the stupid garden…

He almost didn't hear the librarian through his guilt when he finally began speaking. "-transgressions weren't severe enough to merit disciplinary action, though she would do well to remember the regulations in the future. The library is a place of quiet learning and research, and must remain as such." He paused. Jim realised his mouth was a little open, and he closed it quickly. There was a glint in the Vulcan's eye- amusement? No, he was sure he imagined it.

"So, she's not in trouble?" he asked carefully. It was unbelievable, and more than he had been hoping for. There hadn't even been a need to threaten the lives of close relatives to get his way, or break something fragile and very expensive.

All right, those were just his thoughts getting a little strange again, he wouldn't actually do that, but he couldn't believe that was all there was to it. Maybe there was a catch. Like a couple of hours of library duty. Old O'Donnell would have jumped at the chance to have some young'uns do some work for a change, as he put it. Nobody really minded, usually because they knew they got off easy and that the librarian's back gave him trouble.

It was thus with some suspicion that Jim received the news. He remembered once, O'Donnell had caught him smuggling coffee and a burger into the cells. How he had known, Jim could only guess, as there were no cameras yet in the newly-installed cells, and he had taken great care to pack the food up tight so not even one delicious whiff could betray him. It didn't work, O'Donnell ate Jim's lunch… The man had some kind of in-built radar, and Jim was sticking labels on old tapes for a week. He had been told there would be no repercussions, but there were still strings attached. He had decided not to harp on the technicalities because the elderly librarian was an old bird of the fleet, and told the most fascinating stories. Besides, Jim rather liked him.

"So that's it? No note in the records, no library duty, no errands to run, no library suspension?"

"If you are not content, Mr Kirk, I can make alternative arrangements." There it was again, the elusive twinkle.

"No, no, that's quite alright. That's- perfect. Um." Jim still couldn't believe he and Gaila were scot-free. "You're sure Gaila's not in trouble?"

"Yes, Mr Kirk, I am sure."

"But the camera record will still be there."

"That is correct. For any staff member that feels the need to replay it."

"I see." This was great- now all he had to do was talk to Gaila. Which wasn't going to be easy, but at least it wouldn't be as complicated as it could have been. He grinned. "Thank you. I never got your name, sir."

"Gratitude is illogical. I am simply following regulations." The Vulcan replied smoothly. "However, you may call me Mr Spock."

~o~

Gaila was rearranging her closet when there was a knock on her door. She carefully shut a drawer that seemed to hold nothing but colourful string and lace, and went to see who it was.

"Jim," she said in surprise. "Come in! What happened to your head?" Her fingers brushed his temple, then went to the lapels of his Cadet jacket, fingering the small buttons. As he stepped inside, his hands closed about her own and gently tugged them away.

"Gaila. Sorry for intruding, but I have to talk to you."

"You never intrude, Jim." She smiled, but Jim could hear the worry in her voice. "Did he mark you down? Are we in trouble?"

Jim almost smiled, despite himself. She had the exact same concerns as he did. "No, we're not in trouble. But I still need to talk to you."

"Is it about Leonard McCoy? I'll try controlling myself more if you want me to, but I won't promise anything, he is an attractive man."

"No, it's not about him, either. Gaila, it's about me. Us. Look, the Galaxus Dinner was a mistake. You're a really nice person, but I think we should just stay friends." This was a stretch, seeing as they had been introduced at the Dinner and further meetings had almost always involved hopping into bed (or an equivalent), but Jim still didn't want to hurt her by being too blunt.

Gaila was quiet. She searched his eyes, then pulled her hands away, dropping her gaze. She turned away from him, and Jim realised to his horror that she was beginning to cry. He floundered.

"Gaila?" he ventured, and was answered by a shaky sniff. Her shoulders, Jim noticed in mild panic, were trembling. He felt wretched.

He wished the ground would swallow him up.

"Oh, Jim," she whispered through wet hiccups, then pulled out a lacy handkerchief and blew her nose. After a while, she turned back to him; her eyes, red-rimmed, met his. "Jim," she said again. "I've been causing trouble for you, haven't I? I've… I've seen plenty of boys, but they only want me because of my body or because I'm an Orion and they want to know what it's like… And I let them, because what if they're the one?" she half-sobbed, half-laughed into her hankie. "But they never are, and they always leave, and I'm still alone. I never seem to learn."

Jim didn't know what to say. "Gaila-"he began, but she pressed a slim green finger to his lips.

"Shh. I had hoped you'd feel something for me, but I was lying to myself again." The smile on her face was crooked. Even when she was crying, with her mascara all over the place, she was astonishingly beautiful. Jim pulled her into a gentle hug.

"It's okay, Gaila, don't cry. We'll still be friends. I'll be here when you need a shoulder to cry on, how about that?" He stroked the back of her head slowly.

"I'd like that," she mumbled into his chest. They remained like that for a while, before she pushed him away gently. Her eyes, though still bloodshot, were bright. "You are the boy who was nicest to me… I'm glad we were introduced at the Dinner." She palmed away a tear. "Now go already. Before my roommate comes back. Go keep the good doctor company."

"Gaila-" She shushed him, steered him out of the room, and shut the door softly. He heard her blow her nose again.

He would have preferred if she had hit him. It would have made him feel a little better. Instead, he just felt guilty and rather sick of himself as he stared at the blank white door. Rubbing his temples, he walked back towards the library, feet heavy as lead, deep in thought and suddenly feeling tired. She didn't deserve this… In a place full of hormonal boys, where her reputation as an Orion preceded her. When she was just a girl.

He must have had a black face on, because heads turned to follow him as he passed cadets in the corridor. He ignored them, retracing his steps back past the dorms and function rooms. The library doors opened as he approached. His thoughts, buzzing in his skull like bees in a hive, eased slightly as the velvety silence reached out to embrace him.

He acknowledged the librarian Mr Spock with a nod, and then moved quickly towards the western wing. He didn't feel like talking. His tongue felt like a dead, useless thing in his mouth, so instead he concentrated on the liberating feeling of space above his head, where the upper library floors yawned, cathedral-like, up towards the distant ceiling.

He found Bones' cell easily. He looked up at Jim as he entered, opened his mouth to say something. The words got lost somewhere on their way up as Jim slid into his seat, rested his forehead on the dry, papery surface of the table and groaned, "I'm a selfish, miserly berk."

"You don't say."

"I made her cry."

"Then I must say you're right."

"What?"

"About being a selfish, miserly berk."

"Thanks for being my pillar of support, Bones, I feel better already." And he told Bones what had transpired in Gaila's room. At the end of it, Bones looked thoughtful.

"I think she knew what she was risking when she applied to the Academy… But she worked hard to get in and stay in, so the least you could do, Jim, is not pity her. She is strong. Don't do her the discourtesy of thinking she is not."

"I wasn't pitying her."

"No?"

Jim scratched the edge of his PADD with his thumbnail irritably. "Maybe. A little. Yes, alright. But you have to admit her situation kind of sucks."

"It is heartening to see you so concerned with her feelings, Jim. On that note, I suggest you try being a good friend to her, at least."

Jim made a hearty attempt at resentment at the doctor's tone, but found it impossible to maintain. It made sense. Offering friendship to Gaila seemed like the one thing that he did right in the entire blasted affair. He could admit that he loved women- and that he was more proactive than most in seeking their company- but he put that down to simply being Jim. No one was more 'Jim Kirk' than Jim Kirk. Being good with the ladies was part of the pie, so to speak.

He was not sure how being 'gentlemanly' factored into the equation, but it did, and that was that. He sighed, and his eyes slid to the all-but-forgotten PADD beside him. A sleek contraption of metal, plastic and digital know-how, complicated but somehow wonderfully simple. It didn't mind if he spent more time with the library computer console, or if he switched PADDs around a bit. It didn't argue, or follow him around (unless a deadline was right on top of him… then it seemed to be everywhere).
His grade barely aroused some vague interest, but if it distracted him a little, then that was fine by him. Alphabets and numbers were so much easier to understand. He pulled it over, fiddled a little with some buttons, paused for a second, then put it down again.

"A?" Bones inquired, watching him.

Jim shrugged. "Of course." He had known there was nothing he could be marked down for in the report, he had checked its length twice, just to be sure. Nothing they could point at and go "Ha! That warrants an A-! And this here makes it a B." If he hadn't been feeling so guilty about Gaila, he would have felt smug. He found himself wondering how the professors' and examiners' reactions had been… He'd write another report in a heartbeat just to be able to see their faces.

The PADD was looking rather innocent and non-descript by his elbow, but he noticed something on its smooth, faintly glowing digital surface. A tap with his stylus revealed it to be an attached note of some sort, written in neat black copperplate. He scanned it quickly, and frowned. "What the hell-?" Bones sent him a questioning glance. Jim responded by flipping his PADD around and showing him the screen. Bones' eyes scanned over what appeared to be a list of book titles and research papers.

"The examiners left a memo?" Bones suggested. Jim snorted in disbelief.

"Why would they? I got an A!" He gave the PADD another baffled look. He took a closer look at the writing. "I haven't even heard of half of these. What's a cross-collupial mystasis?"

"No idea. Further reading, maybe."

"Why would they give me further reading? If they thought my report could be improved, why give me an A?"

"There's always room for improvement," Bones replied evenly.

"I bet they did it just so I'd have more to do. They're sore about my report. Seriously, how high are the sticks up their-"

"You're acting like an infant."

Jim grumbled something incoherent, glaring sourly at the list. There were a dozen titles there at least. He checked his report. A couple of ticks here, a 'Good!' beside Kholovsky, some additional notes. Jim looked back at the memo. No, there wasn't really much correlation. Just a list of foreign sounding names and titles, what the hell. Did they expect him to do something with them? Write another report? Research? Covert assassination?

Or did they just want to pick at his brain? It was an irritating thought. It's not like he was bored or anything- he could think of two dozen things he could be doing, rather than being stuck in the library poring over academics.

Out of habit he scrolled over to the comments at the end of his report. Words like fresh and original, unconventionality and effective use of theories jumped out at him. They sounded hollow and obligatory. Nothing constructive at all, nothing he could really sink his teeth into.

How dull.

The memo dragged at his eyes like a magnet. His afternoon, it seemed, was shaping itself in front of him with no involvement on his part whatsoever. He looked at the untouched stack of discs beside the window. The titles there were familiar- Specifications and Variations in Ship Design, Piloting in Abnormal Conditions, Intra-Ship Stratagems. There was nothing there that was particularly new to him, or that piqued his interest.

Jim inwardly shrugged. He was avoiding boredom rather than conforming to the professors' whims, he told himself. Besides, they didn't say he had to write a report, or summarise a paper, or anything of the sort. This was Jim Kirk doing what he wanted on a spring afternoon when he needed some distractions. If it took a list of names to take his mind off Gaila, then so be it.

"I'll be back," Jim told Bones, who answered with a noncommittal grunt, and left the cell with his PADD under his arm.

~o~

I have no idea what a cross-collupial mystasis is. xD or what it could be. Thank you for reading, please review!