Bed was a good thing, Jim had decided long ago. It was soft and warm and always pleased to see you and, like any relationship in Jim's life which had come close to working, he saw far too little of it for his liking. He flopped down face first with a groan of pure contentment that even the stiff, standard issue mattress could not suppress and wriggled down into the pillows. Like a pig rolling in mud, Frank had once told him, and he hadn't cared then either. No one was here to see him being indulgent anyway.

Except for the hands gliding firmly up his back to his shoulders. They reached them, squeezed once like a greeting, and then smoothed back down again. Jim hummed approval and flopped his face to the other side, toward the bulkhead.

"S'nice," he mumbled, and received no response but more strokes that he suspected would have continued anyway.

They continued for several minutes, up and down and back again, warm, familiar hands that Jim had no problem relaxing under, despite the fact that he could remember no one he would share this intimacy with who was familiar. He was completely boneless when the hands paused and he felt a soft kiss pressed to the back of his neck. Hot breath skittered over his spine and Jim shuddered as the mouth traveled to first one shoulder and then the next, each touch slow and near reverent.

Jim squirmed when arousal began to pool in his groin and one of the hands tightened at his bicep, preventing him from turning over before he had even consciously had the thought to. He settled down again, did not question the strength of the hold.

The kisses traveled down farther until they made Jim's back bow, and he shifted and slipped in the hold that was on him until he could turn to see the person in his bed. He looked up the long, lean arms, broad shoulders and...

And there was no face.

No fucking face.

He yelled, and moved away from the thing in his bed, and when he stumbled out of it, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

To find he had no face either.

He screamed, without a mouth.

"Mister Scott," Jim called as he approached the engineer, watching the way the other's face changed from focused to giddy when he spotted the captain moving toward him. "I need a word."

"Aye, Captain," he greeted him. "Wonderful timing; you can check in on the repairs. They've yielded some very advantageous results."

"Yeah, about that..." Jim rubbed at the back of his neck, and took in the scene around him. He wondered if everyone was always this busy, considering he had heard from more than one person that Scotty could be somewhat of a slave-driver when it came to the engines, or if it only ratcheted up a notch when the captain was on deck. He paused. "Wait, did you say 'results'?"

Scott paused himself like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Aye, sir."

"I came down here to tell you we'd have to postpone the modifications because we would need full warp to pick up the Romulan delegates," Jim told him. He crossed his arms over his chest, watched as Keenser shuffled past without so much as a salute. "Are you telling me you're already finished?"

"Well... finished," Scotty huffed a strange laugh, "i's such a relative term down here, when we're always updatin' an' seein' to the repairs, an'-"

"Scotty."

"-but with th' modifications we discussed... aye, I suppose you could say we're finished."

Jim stared him down, trying to look unimpressed, because he was. "Scotty," he said carefully, "the modifications we talked about don't happen overnight. Did you start before you even asked Spock?"

"Well, I... start... i's-"

"-A relative term, yeah, yeah, I get it." Jim pressed thumb and forefinger into his eyes, sighing. "Scotty, look. You know I allow you a lot of latitude. Mostly 'cause I knew what I was getting into after that story about Admiral Archer's dog, so I have no one to blame but myself."

"Aye, sir," Scott agreed, and it better have been a response to the first statement.

"And I know you certainly understand the engines and what they can handle better than anyone, probably Spock and certainly myself included."

"Aye, sir."

"But you do that again, and I will make sure you enjoy a nice shore leave on a planet very far from San Francisco when it comes time for the next refit. We clear?"

Scott's eyes widened and he cleared his throat. "Aye, sir."

Jim nodded once, as satisfied as he could be. "Okay, then." He turned, planning to head back up, and then rethought the move, turning back. "And don't do the thing with asking the other when one of us says no again," he said, with a touch of humor this time. "While I may not mind if you do whatever it is you happen to want to do, and while it may work out fine on your end, it puts me in the doghouse, not you."

Scotty grinned at him. "Aye, sir."

Jim went to leave again.

"Captain?"

He stopped again and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Mister Spock," Scotty began, still looking not quite sure of himself, "he all right with th' other him comin' to stay?"

So it wasn't just him, Jim thought. Or just him and Uhura. It really was going to be weird to have them both around, that they both existed in the first place. Jim scratched at his neck again. "Seems like it," he said. "He takes him almost as well as you did, I'd say."

Scotty grinned again. "Good," he said. "'Cause I like him. The ambassador, I mean."

Jim gave a rueful smile of his own and nodded. "Yeah, me too."

He moved to go and was successful this time, though he wouldn't have been if he had chosen to respond to the muttered,

"Now he woulda let me from the start."

Spock adjusted his collar and gazed uneasily at his reflection. There was a mirror in his room solely for Nyota's purposes, as he had seen no cause for one outside the head adjacent to his quarters, and he had found himself second-guessing his appearance more since its arrival. It was no question of attractiveness, as it was with both Nyota and most Humans at least in part, but merely that there were always things to notice now he had an unavoidable and proper method by which to notice them.

Because it was there, as Jim would say.

His uniform could not be adjusted anymore, and suddenly there was no logical reason to remain in his quarters. Spock still did not move toward the door.

It was not that he did not want to see his counterpart. He just did not know if he was ready. Ready for what was unclear, but the thought kept him from leaving, as if he were still a child and his father had asked for him after a particularly undisciplined day at school.

Ready to speak with him? Surely not; they already spoke not infrequently. Did it in fact "bother him" that his counterpart would be on board, speaking with his colleagues? Apparently, he already spoke with the captain. And he and Nyota would surely get along well.

There was no hoping the visit would remain entirely professional, knowing his elder self, and in his estimation it perhaps should be. That was all.

The odd comfort in logically following his emotions to their root soothed him in the way that reminded him that he could rationalize his fear, and have it evaporate. It allowed him to turn away from the mirror, finally satisfied, to leave his quarters.

Kirk tried not to go for his collar for the third time in a row in the span of four minutes, but did someone miscalculate his measurements or what?

"Stop fidgeting," Bones said next to him, looking impeccable in his dress attire. He stood up ramrod straight and stared straight ahead, looking like a captain instead of the CMO, despite the fact that Jim knew the doctor hated his uniform more than he did.

"Stop making me look bad," Kirk whispered out of the corner of his mouth. This beam-up would be the second party that would make up the Federation delegation to Romulus.

"When was the last time you ate anything?"

"I haven't. Too busy going over paperwork to do anything but." Kirk sighed as he felt his stomach protest and paused at the press of something into the palm of his hand. He looked down to find Uhura smiling at him and a small piece of what looked like butterscotch candy in his hand.

Please let it be butterscotch candy.

He quickly unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth as the transporter began to light up, relief flooding his system. "S'anks," he lisped, and glanced around. The doors to the transporter room opened to reveal Spock, and another type of relief made him smile and stand up straight.

The Tellerite party appeared, looking slightly disgruntled for some reason, and Kirk could not help but groan inwardly. He did not like meeting Tellerites especially when -

"Captain, your ship was four point three seconds late beaming us up. That is unacceptable. Your ship is too cold and we were made to wait so the Andorian party could beam aboard first." Ambassador Gull rattled off the words as if they were artillery. He moved to stand in front of Kirk and Jim noticed he only came up to his own chin. He tried not to think of him as a child.

It was really hard.

"Ambassador, it was in fact your aide that delayed the beam up. If the time was not to your liking, then the fault lies with your own staff," he said calmly.

"We expect equal treatment among all the delegation while aboard your vessel." He looked up at Kirk like he had not spoken and Jim shot a quick glance to Spock at his side, who seemed to share his distaste, but merely twitched an eyebrow at him in sympathy. Jim shrugged a shoulder and turned back.

"Naturally, Ambassador. We would have it no other way." He felt McCoy's eyeroll without looking. "Yeoman Barrows will escort you to your quarters; I assure you they're our finest. If there's anything you need, she'll take care of it, and we will see you at tonight's dinner."

Gull gave him a single nod and obediently followed behind Barrows out into the hall, his party of three trailing after him.

"Let's hope there's nothing they find off about their quarters," McCoy said. "Or they'll be asking for yours, Jim."

Jim snorted at him, but Spock beat him to his retort.

"While diplomacy is of course preferable, Doctor, it is the collective duty of all here, including the delegation, to please the Romulans - not each other. If Ambassador Gull finds his lodgings unsatisfactory, he may speak with me and I will explain that there is no superior alternative on board."

Jim's own eyebrows traveled up and he looked over at Spock again, still standing at his side and staring at the transporter pad expectantly, perfectly pristine. "Spock," he said, and Spock turned his head to him, "that's kind of badass."

Spock cocked his head slightly as McCoy snickered. "I do not believe I understand, Captain."

Jim shook his head. "Nevermind," he grinned. "Scotty, energize."

The Terran delegation was next, five members this time, four men and one woman. It was Admiral Komack who stepped from the pad first, who Kirk had not heard much from since Spock's academic trial against him. He had not been among the handful of admirals to seek him out for a handshake after he had been promoted, but he offered him one now, and Jim accepted it.

"Admiral," he said.

"Captain."

"Ranking officer aboard now," Jim said with a smile, releasing his hand. "You wanna cover my shift for me?"

It was meant to be a joke, but Komack's expression didn't change, the way Spock looked when he was playing stupid or when Jim's lack of logic simply did not even bear comment. He cleared his throat and turned to the next as Komack went on to present Spock with the ta'al and give McCoy and Uhura handshakes as well.

"Ambassador April," Jim greeted the graying man, a real smile on his face now. He had been pleased to see the former captain's name amid the lists they had received and was even more pleased to see and meet the man. "Welcome aboard."

"Good to be back." April had a firm grip and warm eyes that traveled all over the transporter room. "I understand Chris handpicked you." His hand had not released Kirk's.

"Oh, well, not- I mean-"

"I'll be watching to make sure you've earned his regard." The twinkle in his eyes belied the seriousness of his words, but Jim still nodded.

"Uh, Yeoman Rand will take you to your quarters and handle anything you need." He gestured toward Janice, waiting to the side. "I'm sure you'll be able to find your way around."

Ambassador April cast another look around the room. "We'll see," he joked.

The others, two aides and the ambassador's wife, only nodded politely before leaving and Jim sighed as they did, slumping.

"It's gonna be a long night," he said.

"Long week," McCoy amended.

Jim ignored him. "Scotty," he called again and after a few moments, the pad was alight once more. They all watched it carefully and Jim risked a glance at Spock. Unsurprisingly enough, his posture and expression had not changed.

By the time he faced forward again, the same face was before him.

Jim couldn't help the somewhat goofy grin that took over his face. "Ambassador."

Spock the elder stepped down from the pad, flanked on each side by a younger Vulcan male. "Captain," he said with evident fondness.

The grin widened impossibly and all Kirk could think to say was the same he had to the other former crew member of his ship.

"Welcome aboard."