Chapter 2

Every once in a while, Jim was reminded of how much he hated alarm clocks. There had to be a nicer way to wake a person that didn't involve loud, incessant beeping. He imagined that it wouldn't be too hard to create an alarm clock that would gently shake you and say things like 'It's time to wake up, you sexy beast, you'. But no, no matter how much technology had evolved over the past few centuries, Jim was still assaulted by the unforgiving, high frequency beeps of an alarm clock.

Groaning, Jim sat up and slammed his hand down on his alarm clock, finally gaining the peace and quiet that he so desperately craved. It wasn't normally a problem for him, as usually he would be wide awake and ready for the day and more capable of turning off his damn alarm. Unfortunately, he had a harder time getting to sleep last night than he had in a long time. And it was all because of that damn, green-blooded hobgoblin.

Jim groaned again at the thought of Spock and collapsed back down onto his bed. He had never met a man who was less willing to be open and blunt. He had spent the entire night trying to decipher Spock's few words and subtle movements. He couldn't help but feel like he was extending a lot more effort at a friendship than his alien first officer was. Which led Jim to believe that maybe he should take a hint.

Jim laughed to himself quietly before getting up to get ready for work. James T. Kirk almost never took a hint and was almost relentless in his attempts to get others to like him. Then again, it usually wasn't this hard either. Even back when he'd first met Uhura, he had felt like there was some kind of connection between them, even if it hadn't been sexual. But Spock was impossible!

Ugh, his preoccupation with his first officer was getting ridiculous. No, scratch that, it was far past ridiculous! He had never spent this much time trying to figure out a relationship, platonic or otherwise. And even though, at his core, he understood why Spock's friendship was important to him, he still didn't like having to show his less than confident side. He did have a reputation to maintain, after all.

Despite this, captaincy had changed something within Jim. He no longer felt like he always had to have the last word - even though he still did sometimes. He no longer felt the need to snidely comment on things that didn't involve him at all - although he still heckled Bones. And he was becoming insanely perceptive about the people around him...the people who were under his care. He couldn't pinpoint the change and he wasn't even sure it had a name to it. But some might call it maturity. And it was possibly because of this newfound maturity that he was willing to go to such lengths to befriend his unfriendable first officer.

For a moment, Jim entertained the idea that Spock simply didn't get close to anyone. Maybe he just liked being alone and didn't feel the need for companionship. Maybe that was just the Vulcan way. But no, his theory hit a brick wall almost instantly. Spock was close with Uhura. Really close. Jim shuddered and mentally suppressed the memory of them kissing on the transporter pads. As attractive as they both were, Jim didn't want to think about them together, talking and kissing and possibly sexing...whoa. Yeah, no, new topic.He definitely didn't get enough sleep last night.

Jim threw on his uniform carelessly, briefly looking in the mirror to see if he was presentable. Satisfied, Jim left his quarters and headed for the dining hall. He walked in and gazed around, immediately spotting McCoy sitting with one of the nurses. Bones looked up when he walked in and gave a wave with his hand. Jim nodded at him and went to go find food quickly. He hadn't really seen Bones in a while, having been insanely busy with settling into the rank of captain and becoming accustomed to the rest of the crew and ship. So he was really looking forward to a conversation with his old friend, no matter how short it would probably be.

After piling sausage, eggs, and hashbrowns onto a plate, he moved over to where Bones was now sitting alone. He looked at him questioningly, wondering where the nurse had gone, but McCoy merely shrugged and began eyeing his plate, disapproval etching its way across his face.

"I don't recall adding any of that to your diet," he grumbled as Jim sat down. Jim smiled at him carelessly and shoved a bite of hashbrowns into his mouth.

"It's okay in moderation and it's good for the soul," he said around his bite. A look of disgust crossed McCoy's face, but Jim merely smiled and ignored it. He was pleased as the two fell into an easy conversation, Bones inserting a random complaint now and then. Jim had almost been able to forget the source of his endless insomnia when he walked into the dining hall.

Jim watched his moves carefully, trying to discern whether or not Spock had been affected by their conversation in an even remotely similar way. However, he seemed to be his normal, over-efficient self as he piled various fruits into a bowl. Jim felt an unexpected disappointment settle into the pit of his stomach. After all of his expended energy, and Spock didn't even have decency to look appreciative. Jim ignored the small voice in the back of his mind that was yelling at him that it wasn't the Vulcan way.

"What's wrong, Jim," Bones asked, watching him intently. Jim was momentarily relieved that they weren't in the sickbay, or else Bones probably would have pulled out a tricorder and his hyposprays. Then he realized that Bones was a tricky man who probably carried them around on his person just to torment Jim.

"Nothing," he replied, turning his attention away from the Vulcan who was sitting down with Uhura a couple tables away. However, Bones raised his eyebrows and fixed him with a stare that would make even the toughest criminal confess. "I just didn't sleep much last night."

"Jesus, Jim," Bones sighed, sitting back in his chair. "Why didn't you come down to the sickbay? I could have given you something to help you sleep."

Jim shrugged and ignored him, instead choosing to continue eating. "I didn't think it would be such a problem," he finally confessed after the last of his food was gone.

Bones glared at him for another moment before asking in exasperation, "Well, what's going on?"

Jim faced one of his rare internal battles. Lying to Bones was always a bad idea, as the doctor always seemed to know when he was lying. However, the truth was just a little more than embarrassing. After all, it was really crazy that he was losing sleep over a lack of friendship between him and Spock. Then again, he really didn't want to be pestered about what was bothering him until Bones magically discovered what was wrong. Because he would. Bones always managed to find out what was upsetting Jim.

"It's Spock."

McCoy spit out the water that he had just taken a sip of, spraying Jim, who instantly regretted his choice of timing. Although, it was so funny it was almost worth it.

"Spock? Your first officer? The pointy eared bastard? The green blooded hobgoblin?" McCoy asked, trying to make sure they were talking about the same person. Jim nodded sadly. "What about him?"

Damn, he already regretted telling Bones the truth. "I just...don't understand why he refuses to be my friend!" he exclaimed quietly. When Bones raised his eyebrows, Jim sighed and continued, "I try so hard and put my best foot forward and try to appeal to logic around him, and we still haven't become anything but acquaintances who work together."

"And that's a bad thing why...?" McCoy asked, his eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. No, he supposed Bones wouldn't understand. Jim, true to his word, hadn't told anyone about his encounter with the older Spock. Therefore, saying anything about how they were destined to be friends would sound, not only creepy, but unusual. Especially since Jim was known for his lack of belief in things like fate and destiny.

"Maybe I just want him to be my friend," Jim stated defensively. At McCoy's disbelieving stare, Jim elaborated, "I see him everyday and the awkwardness is becoming intolerable. I mean, if we have to work together, we might as well get along, right?"

"Right..." Bones still sounded skeptical and looked as if he'd like to drag Jim to the sickbay and give him psych evaluation right then and there.

"I just don't know what else to do! I mean, I've been polite and engaging, and I even apologized-"

"Wait," Bones interrupted, "you apologized? James T. Kirk apologized for something?"

Jim shot a dirty look at his friend. "I'm not a complete asshole all the time," he defended. "I can be very friendly when I feel like it."

"What a shame you rarely feel like it," Bones mumbled under his breath.

"Like you can talk," Jim teased. And just like that, the previous conversation was all but forgotten as they resumed their friendly banter. Jim was relieved that he'd been able to dodge that bullet. He really didn't think that there were rational words to explain why he was so desperate for Spock to be friends with him. In fact, he wasn't sure he fully understood the desire himself.

As breakfast came to an end, Jim and Bones stood, ready to go to their respective stations: Jim to the bridge and Bones to the sickbay. Jim clasped Bones on the shoulder in a friendly farewell and then made his way to the bridge.

"Good morning crew," he called out cheerfully as the turbolift doors behind him closed. The crew, by now, was fairly used to his antics and he relished in the familiar reactions: Uhura rolled her eyes, Chekov smiled back brightly, and Sulu shook his head in appreciation and amusement. Only Spock didn't react to his greeting, but then, he never did.

"Any new updates?" he asked as he sat down in his chair. A round of 'negative' reached him and he settled back in his chair, ready to sit through a new, fairly dull day on the bridge. Oh well, that just gave him more time to formulate a way through Spock's hard exterior and show him that he really was a decent person...mostly.

Having nothing better to do, he turned to watch his first officer at work. He smiled when he watched Spock's certain movements, his hand gliding effortlessly over the console and he found himself fixated by the long, pale fingers. It was odd, but Spock's fingers were the part of his first officer that he was easily most acquainted with. Between the mind meld and his near death experience, Spock's fingers had come into contact with him more than anyone else's on the ship, except for Bones. And that was only because he was a doctor who insisted upon actually making sure Jim was healthy.

Jim sighed and turned away. He wished there was something to do - anything to do. Anything that could distract him from his newfound obsession with his first officer would be excellent. Of course, nothing presented itself, so Jim slipped back into his Spock thoughts.

Spock was a telepath, wasn't he? Of course he was, he was a Vulcan...well, half-Vulcan, but it didn't seem to matter much in terms of his ability to be Vulcan. Plus, the mind meld on Delta Vega? It was still Spock, just older. Jim noted how much easier life would be if he were a telepath. It would certainly solve his current problem. If he knew what Spock was thinking or feeling, he would be able to swoop in and fix the broken bridge between them.

Then again, what if he learned something he didn't like? What if Spock really, truly disliked Jim's presence? Or maybe the thought of friendship with a human was unbearable? What if Spock wanted to go to the new Vulcan colony? No, Jim wouldn't like knowing about these thoughts so much, regardless of the perspective they would bring. So, in a perfect universe, he would highly enjoy telepathy. However, in this one, he would let it be and instead try to gain insight the old fashioned way: by prying shamelessly.

But how does one go about prying when it involves a stubborn half-Vulcan with no sense of the term 'compromise'? Jim didn't have the faintest clue.

"How many days until we reach Organia?" Jim asked suddenly.

Sulu turned to look at him, surprised at the breach in silence. "Approximately 4 days, Captain," he replied.

"Anything on the communications front?" he asked, turning to face Uhura.

She shook her head, muttering a soft, "No, Captain."

Jim nodded and started thinking. This should be a fairly easy. Their sole purpose of going to Organia was to convince them to become an ally to the Federation. It should be quick and as they were a generally peaceful people, if not a bit standoffish. Worse comes to worse, they say no, Jim thought as he brought a hand up to rub his temple. All of sudden he had a massive headache. Probably from boredom.

Well, maybe if he did something...anything. Jim got up and started to walk around, observing his crew at work. If they were as bored as he was, they gave no external sign. As he approached Spock, he began to slow and hesitated, watching him work over his shoulder. If Spock had been human, he might have been unnerved by the presence at his shoulder. However, he continued working as he had before. Jim remained standing behind him, though, determined to get a response from his first officer.

After a few minutes (which was longer than Jim felt was necessary), Spock turned around to face him. "Can I help you, Captain?" he asked, sounding a bit frustrated. Jim ignored it, almost positive that he had imagined the inflection in his voice.

"I was just observing your hard work, Mister Spock," he replied, before moving from behind him to stand beside him. "So what would you say to dinner tonight?" Well that was tactful and professional all at the same time. If Jim had been standing next to a wall, he might have considered banging his head against it.

Spock did a double take, which forced Jim to repress his urge to laugh. He hadn't thought it possible for Vulcans to double take. "With you, Captain?"

Jim laughed. "No, with the magical Klingons who just beamed onto the ship," he responded, his voice laced with humorous sarcasm. "Of course with me!"

Spock thought about it for a moment before replying, "While dining with the Klingons may prove to a more pleasurable experience, dining with you will suffice."

Jim's eyes widened as he took in his first officer's response. Spock had just told a joke. A joke! Or...at least he was pretty sure it was a joke! He looked around to see if anyone had heard it, but his crew was still hard at work. So Jim just laughed and clapped Spock on the back before saying, "Excellent, I will see you tonight in my quarters then when we get off duty."

Jim moved back to his chair again, wondering whether or not that had been too personal. After all, they hadn't really had to much contact outside of work and it did seem like a fairly massive leap. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to dislodge the thoughts. What's done is done, he thought and forced his thoughts to wander elsewhere before becoming so restless that he just gave up. He would go do some paperwork that he had been procrastinating on or something. Anything but just sit there and anxiously await dinner.

"Mister Spock, the bridge is yours," Jim said after a moment before excusing himself. He should probably find out what Vulcans liked to eat if he was going to have one as a guest. Maybe Bones knew what a normal Vulcan diet consisted of. He was, after all, a doctor. If that failed, he could always try the computer...or guess.

"Hey Bones," Jim all but shouted as he walked into the sickbay. Bones jumped and then quickly fumbled for some of the things that had fallen out of his arms, barely catching them before they hit the ground. He set his items on a counter and turned to glare at Jim.

"What in blazes are you doing?" he demanded, keeping his tone down for the mere sake of his patients. "You can't just barge in here yelling and throwing a fit."

Jim suppressed a chuckle and instead decided to simply address the reason of his visit. "I'm having dinner with Spock tonight and don't know as much about their eating habits to make a good host...or even a decent host."

"Well, Vulcans are vegetarians-"

"I know that, tell me something I don't know!"

Bones glared at him again. "Unless you don't know the meaning of the word 'vegetarian', you should be fine with that knowledge alone." With that, Bones turned back to the counter to gather up his stuff, grumbling under his breath about captains who didn't respect hard working doctors.

Jim smiled at his friend's back and turned to go back to his quarters. He would work on some paperwork and then find decent food that both he and Spock could enjoy. Spock would be his friend, he could feel it.

As he walked out of the sickbay, Bones called after him, "Wait, dinner with Spock?"

A.N.
Thanks for the reviews guys. I just wanted you to know that I take what you say to heart and try to take all advice into account. I'm open to suggestions, of course, and welcome them. Just to address one review, I actually did consider putting this in 1st person from Jim's pov, but I think that it's insanely difficult to do without making the character sound juvenile and I have never been good at it. Regardless, I'm fairly satisfied with the way this is going thus far. I hope you guys are too!