AN: Premise: Harry's spirit/ghost somehow combines with the Enterprise, but doesn't become fully conscious of his nifty new body (i.e. a space ship, lulz) until sometime during or after the confrontation with Nero.

IMPORTANT: As you will notice (and as I warned in the last chapter's closing notes) there will be no actual scene where Harry is introduced to the crew—just assumed it happened. Why? I explained in the last chapter. Go look. As of now, only Spock, Uhura, Scotty, Bones, Sulu, Chekov, Giotto and Jim know about Harry.

P.S. You'll notice Canon pairings in the fic (i.e. Spock and Uhura) but it's mostly crack. Nothing serious-just used for the humor because the pairings are NOT the focus of the fic. So please don't be alarmed and turn away, Slash lovers.

Wizard in Space

Idea #1C

(Posted: 7-2-2010)

Prompt: Skillz

Jim rigidly approached the science station with a wide, frozen smile plastered on his face. "A word with you, Mister Spock." The Captain was careful not to react to the burning gaze from the communications station that upped in intensity as he made his way to the turbo lift without waiting for his First Officer.

"Of course, Captain," the Vulcan replied stiffly.

Jim maintained his smile and waved at the crew jauntily as Spock stepped inside and stood at attention by his side. The moment the lift doors closed, Jim whirled around, struck the emergency stop button on the lift and disabled the comm system. Then he let out a loud breathe, swiped a hand through his hair and leaned wearily against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Okay, spill."

Spock did not bother turning to face his Captain. Instead, the tension in his frame seemed to increase as he stood with his feet apart and his hands clasped behind his back.

"I do not understand, Captain. I have no liquid substance to spill."

Jim sighed in exasperation. "Spock, you know what I mean. Why does the stick up Uhura's ass seem to have grown twice as big? I'm used to her attitude, but she isn't sparing anyone today. Not even you."

Spock maintained his silence.

Jim's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Did you guys fight? You forget her birthday or something? You weren't emotionally available enough? What was it? Spock, I can't have your personal problems affecting the performance and morale of the crew."

Spock's eyes flickered over at Jim. "It is not the emotional aspect of our interactions that has suffered," the First Officer relented.

The captain frowned in confusion. "Not the emotional? Then what? The phys—you've got to be kidding me." Jim gaped at Spock, who once again had turned his gaze away and refused to elaborate."

"I have no comment on the matter."

Jim snorted—half amused and half incredulous. "You're not getting laid," he mused aloud.

This time Spock did react, turning to frown minutely at the captain.

"Are you serious? She's angry because you're not boinking her enough?"

"Captain, I resent having our physical relations referred to as 'boinking,'" Spock said with distaste. Then, after a brief pause, "And it is not so much 'enough' as it is, 'at all.'"

"What?" Jim looked surprised.

Silence prevailed.

"Uhm," Jim squirmed and then awkwardly turned to his First Officer, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "If you are having problems with erectile dysfunction, Dr. McCoy should be able to help you?"

Jim backpedaled at the foreboding pinch he saw between Spock's brows. "Er, I mean, do you know why?"

Spock turned around completely to face Jim, his gaze steadfast and sure, as if the conversation had finally come back to safe grounds wherein the Vulcan could answer with surety. "I believe that you are at fault, Captain," Spock calmly announced.

"What?" Jim spluttered. "How is this my fault?"

"Lt. Uhura does not enjoy observers in the act of copulation."

"Hey! Now, wait a minute! I am not a voyeur!"

"I did not state that you were, Captain. But you did invite the act of voyeurism."

"I did not!" Jim's voice rose with each response.

Spock merely raised an eyebrow. "Two weeks ago at 1230 in the mess hall you said, and I quote—'Well, Harry, if you're interested in aliens, you should start with Mister Spock. He's Vulcan, one of the founding races of the Federation. I'm sure he won't mind you tagging along to observe him. You should pay extra attention to his biology, it's pretty amazing.'"

"I was talking about you being three times stronger than humans! Not sex!"

o.o.O.O.O.o.o

"Harry."

"Kirk."

"There are things called 'privacy' and 'discretion.'"

"…I'm sorry?"

o.o.O.O.O.o.o

"Are you sure?" Uhura eyed Spock's quarters suspiciously.

"Yes. The Captain informed me that he has spoken to Mister Potter."

"Well, if you're sure…" She smiled and pulled Spock down for a kiss, allowing him to maneuver her to the bed.

"Boom Chicka Bow Wow."

Spock drew back rigidly from the kiss and Uhura groaned, flopping back onto the bed in a graceless sprawl.

"Mister Potter. You are still here." Spock didn't bother asking 'why.' Instead, he remarked, "The dissonant sounds with which you are assailing Lt. Uhura and me are most disquieting."

"Er, sorry. Kirk said I should do something in apology. I was just trying to help since I kept you from getting laid. A schoolmate of mine once told me this was good stuff—gets you in the mood for, you know."

Uhura snorted at the childish euphemism and for once, Spock needed no clarification. In fact, he seemed rather fascinated.

"Humans find this sequence of sounds erotically stimulating? Fascinating." The Vulcan then turned to his female companion with a mildly reproachful look. "Nyota. Why have you not informed me of this? You are quite well versed in human music and seem to be rather enthusiastic with sharing your enjoyment of it with me. Yet you have withheld this."

Uhura gaped speechlessly. "Spock. You can't be serious."

"I am always serious, Nyota."

"Oh my god," the woman exclaimed with an explosive huff. "Spock. This stuff is an insult to the entire history of human music. It's not erotically stimulating at all! In fact, I doubt any human male would be able to keep it up while listening to that except Kirk and that's only because Kirk can get it up anywhere, anytime!"

The corner of Spock's lips turned down minutely—an expression of his consternation. "Nyota, it is illogical to think my performance mid coitus will be affected by badly orchestrated human music. As you know, a male Vulcan's biology is controlled by the mind and I can sustain an erection indefinitely-"

"Spock!" Uhura squealed.

"-which means I can fulfill your needs without needing to recuperate, as a human male often requires in order to please his partner," Spock pushed on, heedless of Uhura's embarrassment. He paused to watch her roll into fetal position on her side, covering her flaming cheeks with her hands.

Harry listened silently in fascination.

"I can most assuredly outperform Kirk in sexual intercourse in 99.987888% of all probable conditions and settings," Spock finished, as if tacking the last statement onto his explanation as an afterthought. However, his intense gaze gave the impression that it was actually the most pointed and important fact he wished to convey to the woman before him.

"You don't need to tell me that!" Uhura groaned aggrievedly. "And why did you have to mention Kirk of all people when comparing your ability to perform?"

"I believe the human saying is: 'You started it.'" Spock replied.

"Spock." Uhura stated sternly.

"Nyota." Spock calmly returned.

"Harry," came the happy chirp.

The Vulcan and human woman glanced at one another and then turned to look at some indeterminate point in Spock's quarters.

"Mister Potter."

"Yes?"

"As I have explained, I will not be affected by the inferior quality of your human mating music. And you are here at the request of the Captain. It would be rude to decline your peace offering. You may continue."

"Okay! Boom Chicka—"

"No!" Uhura shouted. "Spock! I don't care if this is the olive branch or that you aren't affected! I'm affected, alright? It creeps me out! Do you know how old and cheesy and just plain lame this music is?"

"Hey! It's not old! It was really popular maybe only 10 years before I was born!" Harry refuted.

Spock raised a brow.

"In relation to your birth, it would mean this particular music originates in the 1960s to 1970s of your time," Spock addressed Harry.

"Well, yeah, I guess so."

The First Officer was silent in a moment of contemplation.

Uhura took the chance to push her case. "Spock, this porn music is nearly 300 years old." The communications officer cringed as her skills at rich visual imagery suddenly brought to mind an image of withered men and women in thongs doing the dirty on a gaudy set with a disco ball hanging overhead.

The slight pinch in Spock's brows communicated his own disturbed feelings to her.

"My human-half feels…decrepit."

o.o.O.O.O.o.o

"So, how did it go? You get Spock laid?" Jim asked from his desk in his quarters.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Only think? Harry, I need Spock to get laid so that Uhura won't be such a bitch and terrorize the bridge."

"I know, I mean, I tried to get them in the mood, you know? But then they started talking about music and mating rituals and biology…and by the end, Uhura seemed ready to get it on since she kicked me out, but I have no idea what a randy Vulcan looks like…"

Jim snorted. "Music, anthropological studies of mating rituals and biology, huh? Yeah, for Spock and Uhura that's probably the foreplay before the raunchy sex acts of astrophysics, opera and chemistry. Who know what gets those brain types in the mood?" The captain shook his head pityingly. He got up from behind his desk and gathered the piled padds into his arms.

"So, is that all then?" Jim inquired as he made his way across his quarters.

"Yeah, I think so," Harry replied.

"Okey-dokey then. Here's to hoping we'll see a less uptight Uhura on shift today," Jim mock toasted to the incorporeal man with a half-filled cup of coffee and began shuffling past the coffee table and lounge chairs.

"Oh, wait," Harry spoke absentmindedly, already moving his consciousness to another part of the ship. "There was one thing—Spock said his skillz in bed pwn yours."

Jim collided with the coffee table, went flying over it along with his coffee, and bounced head first into his door, which obligingly opened a microsecond too late to prevent impact.

McCoy stared at his fallen captain—who was rolling on the floor clutching his head—and flinched when Jim's hand suddenly shot out and gripped his ankle.

"Bones!" Jim exclaimed, his eyes wide, expression both wild and indignant. "I could totally pwn Spock in bed! Right?"

"Wha—Goddammit, Jim!" McCoy roared as he recoiled, his arms flying up in front of him as if to ward of the sudden image. "Don't you ever mention that green-hobgoblin and sex in the same sentence! In the same conversation! At all!" The doctor glared down at Jim and shook his leg. "And why are you asking me? Don't involve me in your crazy sex life! "

"But, Bones!"

"No! Jim, get off of me!"

"Bones!"

Crew members in the hall watched as McCoy attempted to shield his eyes with one arm while swatting at the desperate, clawing grip the captain had on one of his legs.

AN: I actually wrote this right after the first post. XD. Way out of order, but when the inspiration hits, I have to get it down. Again, please excuse the juvenile humor.

As I'm sure you've noticed, I have skipped entirely the whole "revelation" scene, where Harry is actually introduced to the crew—as of now, only the main crew (Scotty, Jim, Bones, Chekov, Uhura, Spock, Sulu, Giotto) know about Harry.

Why did I not write the revelation scene? If you read my author's note in the last chapter, you know. If not, well…I didn't have a brilliant scene in mind and I also wanted to play on your assumptions. Later, when the perfect inspiration hits, I'll write it—I'm always open to your suggestions, however.

In the meantime, what did you think? Please review!