Chapter 5 - Sleep the Sleep of the Innocent

"The Lexington has arrived at the Daedalus," Sulu said. He'd approached Kirk's table in the mess and come to attention. He looked odd that way, overly serious about it.

"They're early," Kirk said.

"Yes sir. Repairs are commencing on Daedalus' engines. They estimate they will have them repaired before we arrive."

Kirk looked to Diamond, who said, "The delegates will be late to the summit if they are not transferred to a faster ship. We proceed as before."

Kirk nodded that Sulu should comply with that.

"Don't you think the communication of my orders was sufficient?" Diamond said. "Why did the lieutenant wait for confirmation from you?"

There was no honest response that wouldn't threaten Kirk's still-relaxed shoulders. "Habit, I'm sure, Admiral."

Spock's left eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.

Kirk looked around the officer's mess. Maybe it was just his new found relief from tension, but the entire officer's contingent seemed more relaxed. Several made a point of greeting the admiral with a dry formality, unusual for the mess. Diamond seemed to treat it as normal.

Uhura took out her lyre and played softly. Kirk could hear her humming through some of the verses. The sound of shuffling cards came from behind them. Kirk didn't turn to see who it was. He was too pleased to consider it too closely, lest it vanish like a faerie when subjected to closer scrutiny.

"What's our ETA, bridge?" Kirk was in his robe, bent over his desk in his quarters. He'd taken a hot water shower in a bid to chase away the tension that had snaked up his back the second half of the day, despite every mental effort to prevent it.

"Oh seven hundred three, Captain."

"I'll be on the bridge for docking, leave a note for gamma shift."

"We're going to dock, sir?"

"Easier than running the transporter that much. The manifest says seventy nine passengers. Kirk out."

Kirk shook his head. He'd been relieved to get this mission out of sheer boredom, but it was merely duty as a shuttle.

He was drying his hair when the door chime sounded.

Spock entered and stood with his hands behind him.

"Good evening, Mr. Spock." Kirk toweled his hair back one last time and hung the towel around his neck.

"It is twenty-two hundred forty hours, Captain."

"Good to see you doing double duty, as a mother hen and a clock." But he smiled weakly after he said it. "I'm feeling much better with your help, but I do still have my limits."

"Of course, sir. I mention it because you are likely to only get seven hours of quality sleep at this juncture."

"That's a usually a lot." Kirk straightened his desktop as he spoke, making ready for the morning.

"Your store of patience is directly related to your hours of rest. I would suggest it is a non-linear inverse-"

"Spock," Kirk snapped. "You are becoming the Admiral of my personal life. Cease, please."

Spock's entire brow rose and he stood more formally, more at attention, unlike Sulu it looked natural on him. He also looked a little put upon. "As you wish."

"I'll let you know if I'm at risk of getting less than five hours of sleep, all right?"

"Very well, Captain. If that is all?"

"Yes, that's all. "Kirk swung the towel off his neck and tugged on it with a snapping motion. "Spock."

Spock turned at the door just as it triggered open.

"Sorry," Kirk said. "I'm doing much better, thanks to you. But I'm still a little sensitive to being overseen. By anyone. Even you."

"Understood."

But Kirk thought maybe he didn't understand and was just saying that to get away.

"Good night, Spock."

"Captain."

The clock flicked silently to 0100.

Kirk rose in a single motion. He searched the head again for any stray little blue pills. The bottle he usually kept them in was empty. McCoy would only give him five a month and that was with duress. If he went and got more there would be payment in psych sessions, or just a guilt trip about not taking better care of himself, or changes in his diet card. Kirk shuddered.

"Damn." He didn't feel nearly as stressed as he had; there was no reason for sleep to elude him.

"Personal log, confidential," Kirk muttered to himself as he searched through the drawer between the safe and the desk. "Today my Vulcan first officer neck pinched me into feeling much better. He probably kept me from plotting to slow poison an admiral."

The outline of his brandy bottle showed through the glass of the cabinet beside the desk. That was not a good option for a second night in a row.

"Personal log, continued, apparently my self control is not completely gone. Although I am resorting to talking to myself."

Kirk sat at the desk and shut the drawer with too much force. It was true he couldn't stop obsessing over how to get Diamond off his ship. Even if he had found a way to avoid a demotion, he still didn't have his command back. He probably should record an actual personal log to sort out his thoughts. But he didn't want to possess the recording, didn't want to ever relive feeling so safe, yet so helpless at the same time.

"Damn."

He'd promised Spock without thinking through the consequences of promising. He touched the communications switch. Ensign Rail answered.

"Put me through to Mr. Spock's quarters, Ensign."

Spock never sounded tired, no matter what time it was.

Kirk said, "Care to come to my quarters?"

"Of course, Captain."

The door opened without a chime and Spock stepped inside. Kirk still sat at the desk in his bath robe. He was reviewing the layout of the Daedalus.

"Have you been working all this time, Captain?"

"No, I've been trying to sleep." He flicked off the monitor and stood up. "Without success." He shook his head. "I wouldn't have bothered you if I'd left myself a choice." He sounded annoyed. Maybe he felt annoyed. "I just want control over one small aspect of my life. That's all I ask."

He turned and looked at Spock, whose expression was firmly masked, which set off alarms for Kirk. He softened his tone. "I'm taking this out on you and that's unacceptable." He backed up and sat on the bed. "I feel better but I'm still apparently at the very frayed end of a very thin line."

He looked up at Spock who stood with his hands at his sides, watchful.

"If I say I'm sorry again, it's going to stop meaning anything. You're doing your duty as you see it, professional and personal, and I'm trying to punish you for it. Because I can."

Spock didn't respond, but his expression eased. He fetched the visitor's chair and, with deliberate motions, placed it beside the bed.

"I would love help getting to sleep." Something inside Kirk let loose as he said this. At some point Spock had become willing to give more than Kirk was willing to take, not a situation he'd ever expected them to be in. "What do you want me to do?"

"Lie back."

Kirk started to, then stood up to shuck off his robe before doing so. In t-shirt and briefs he slipped under the blanket. "I assume I'll be asleep when we're finished."

"That is the intent." Spock was rubbing his fingers together as if preparing for a meld.

Kirk looked at the deckhead above him and sighed. "You are sacrificing this much and I'm being an ass to you."

"You are under a great deal of stress."

Kirk snorted. "The morgue is empty, no one is injured, my ship is intact and is probably in the best shape since she left drydock, and I have an admiral on board."

Spock continued to sit with his fingers steepled. "If I may observe, Captain, your attempts to lighten the seriousness may be undermining your ability to deal constructively with the situation."

"Maybe. Humor is sometimes all we humans have when things go wrong. It usually helps, I find."

"The admiral has the power to remove you from command. Since that is a your life's goal and a significant contributor to your self-image, there is no reason to treat the situation lightly."

Kirk fidgeted his feet at the words 'remove you from command.' He composed himself and clasped his hands over his abdomen. "None of my much-vaunted skills help in this situation. I'm immediately out of my depth being under his thumb. I'm beginning to wonder if I would have made it to captain if I didn't rise as fast as I did. I'd have been written up too many times. When a situation is this wrong, I just can't bear it."

"That is an interesting thought experiment, Captain."

Kirk gave him a half smile.

"You have withstood the situation for nearly three weeks. That is astounding."

Kirk grinned this time. "I should stop tying you up with conversation. You probably have things to do. I envy your ability to avoid sleep."

"I do sleep occasionally, Captain. If I don't, Doctor McCoy notices." After a pause, he said, "Are you ready?"

Kirk closed his eyes and nodded. Talking had relaxed him considerably and he didn't need much more help.

Spock's fingertips came in contact with his temple, his cheekbone, his forehead. The pressure on each shifted, balancing. Those small points of warm contact became Kirk's entire world. The alien warmth of past melds rose up in him, reaching out to the contact points, trying to make a connection. He tried to restrain it, for Spock's sake, Spock who was too reserved to be engaging in such intimacy in the first place.

The mantra of 'my mind to your mind' flowed into Kirk's ear, so close he could feel a breath with it. He wanted to make this as easy as possible. He let go of himself, his needs, his dreams, and drifted without will, tethered by that voice.

Then the moment of intrusion. He knew it and, because he was already drifting, only fought it weakly. He could feel he hadn't hurt Spock, which he was certain he had the first time they had melded, even if the Vulcan brushed it off as expected and easily handled with meditation.

He could feel Spock was pleased. They were pleased. Then that moment when he felt everything at the same time as knowing in an all-encompassing circle. He liked that moment.

And the long drawn out warmth of being completely within another presence. Loneliness banished. Complete understanding.

Spock's voice came again. Not a mantra. "You are controlling the meld too much. Return to drifting."

Kirk longed to stay right where he was. They always did. But there was always another purpose intruding. Kirk tried to let go of himself again, but he didn't have hold of himself to let go of. He contemplated this problem as best he could, then felt himself guided with tender slowness. Release here. Release here. Drift.

He let go. He felt alone. He resisted. The purpose. The intrusion. He let go.

Kirk woke from a strange dream where he was on an alien planet he didn't recognize. There were long-limbed leaves waving like sea creatures in the air. He was trying to find the landing party but couldn't remember where they were. He sat up and rubbed his neck.

The clock read 0631, just enough time for breakfast before greeting their guests.

Much of the first shift was up early. They were in the mess chattering loudly over coffees. Kirk sat down with a small plate and McCoy joined him.

"I'll stay as long as the coast is clear. How ya doin', Jim?"

"Good."

"Glad to hear it. You look a lot better."

"My temper is still pretty short."

"As long as you recognize that. Sometimes that's half the battle."

Admiral Diamond came, flanked by his assistant. They went to the food slots. Kirk watched his officers coming and going. It seemed like a change had happened where instead of himself standing as a bulwark against the admiral, the crew had come together and isolated the admiral by himself.

McCoy vacated as the Admiral sat down. The admiral seemed surprised by this, but then seemed to forget it. He ate a few bites, took the padd off his lap and brushed the crumbs off it. "I have some ideas for the coordination between the phaser crews and the torpedo crews."

Kirk focused his attention on him. "I'm open to suggestions."

"Is that sarcasm?"

Kirk blinked. "No." He took up the last chunk on his plate and swallowed it whole. "But it will have to wait until we un-dock from Daedalus and the passengers are settled." Kirk stood. "With your permission, sir."

"Yes, go on."

In the lift Kirk decided that his idle thought last night was absolutely correct. He wouldn't have made it at all if he hadn't made it this fast. That request for dismissal smarted all the way to the bridge.

Alpha shift was taking over as he arrived. He didn't need to do anything except act in charge.

Spock stepped up to the science station. Kirk hadn't caught his eye as he entered the bridge with all the activity. Kirk followed Spock to his station and stood beside him as he changed the settings on the viewer and control boards.

"Morning, Mr. Spock."

"Good morning, Captain." Spock finished adjusting and took his seat.

Kirk didn't want to embarrass him, but he did wish to speak to him. He put a hand on the back of Spock's chair and leaned over him to speak low enough even Uhura's microphone wouldn't pick it up.

"Looking forward to seeing your father?" Kirk had held off on asking this, on the grounds that it was personal, but he didn't want any surprises like last time.

"Yes, Captain." His hands tweaked over several controls and an image of the Daedalus came up on the upper monitor with an overlaid schematic of their intended docking maneuver. Equations flickered along arcs and projected surfaces around the image.

Kirk dropped his voice even farther. "Slept like a stone. Thanks."

Spock nodded distractedly and Kirk decided that would have to suffice. He straightened and found Admiral Diamond had arrived and taken his position beside the turbolift doors. He looked away from Kirk, almost pointedly.

Kirk took a deep breath and took his seat. The delegates would make a good distraction for everyone, admirals included. Kirk dearly hoped.