I'm not even going to pretend I own Star Trek. This is significantly earlier that I had anticipated...but hey, I felt like writing.
… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. ...
"No." Jim snapped, folding his arms over his chest.
"Then I believe we are done." Spock informed him, tucking his hands at his back.
"I AM NOT-" Jim hesitated, glancing around the partially full gym glaring at anyone who was daring to glance at them and lowering his voice to a hiss. "I am not joking around here Spock."
"Nor am I, Jim." Spock stiffened his posture. "If your intent is to truly learn, then you must do as I instruct you."
"This is bullshit." Jim growled. "Is this just to take me down a peg? Is that it?"
Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "I have no need to do so, Jim. Nor do I understand why you would believe I would do such."
Jim opened his mouth to protest, before realizing exactly what Spock was implying and flushing. "Okay. Everyone is not out to get me. But this is ridiculous. You can't be serious about me completely having to re-learn how to stand. It's ridiculous and you know it."
"You have no base, Jim."
Jim flushed, sputtering. "What does that mean?"
"The fact that you do not know is highly telling." Spock moved to Jim's side, pushing at his back and legs as he spoke. "On numerous occasion you have thrown your entire body into your attack. While I understand you utilize this technique because you feel you need increased force, you are wrong. You loose all control of the direction of your attacks. What do you do when you miss?"
Jim folded his arms over his chest, feeling incredibly awkward in the way Spock had positioned his legs. "I turn around, duh."
"In how many steps?" Spock prompted, prodding Jim's hip into a better position.
"I don't know...Two or three?" Jim peered curiously at Spock as he slapped his calf with the side of his foot.
"If you were in the correct position, fighting properly, you would not need to do so." Spock scolded. "Pivoting would be your most frequent means of readjustment."
Jim snorted. "That's great, but you can lift me like I'm paper."
Spock raised both eyebrows, moving to stand in front of Jim. "Stand how you deem most appropriate for a fight."
Jim shifted immediately, feeling infinitely more comfortable. "Okay. Now what."
Spock placed his hands around Jim's waist and lifted him straight up, easily. Jim squeaked and several people turned to look their direction. Jim glared at them as Spock put him back down, but he had a distinct feeling they were snickering. Now Spock invaded his personal space again, pushing at his hips and legs. You would think someone who was so keen on personal space wouldn't be so free with touching. Apparently it was just that necessary to get Jim into the right position.
Jim felt awkward, standing half in profile and leaning all his weight on his back foot. Spock moved back to his original position and placed his hands around Jim's waist again. He lifted, again, and Jim could feel his muscles strain in his arms to do so, but Jim barely felt his feet lift from the ground, raising to his toes.
"Whoa." Jim shifted his weight between his feet awkwardly. "How does that work?"
"Your weight is farther from my center of balance, making it incredibly difficult for me to lift you, while it would normally be negligible."
"How much can you normally drop-lift?"
"Approximately 590 pounds." Spock replied immediately.
"That's, like, three times my weight."
"3.397 times your weight...approximately."
"I get that it's an approximation." Jim rolled his eyes. "Still, that doesn't seem like a lot."
"How much can you lift in such a manner?"
Jim flushed. "I don't know. About 220? Less. I haven't done that kind of weight training in a while. But I'm not a professional weight lifter."
"Nor am I." Spock quirked an eyebrow at him.
Jim scowled, shaking his head. "Never mind. Moving on. It still seems like a waste of time."
Spock shoved Jim's shoulders, hard, nearly toppling him over. Jim stood back up shocked. Spock started to push him into the stance again and Jim shifted into it much easier. It wasn't near as difficult as it had felt the first time. Spock shoved him again. Jim wobbled, but he didn't stumble back.
"Your base is everything."
"But it drops my strength."
"You do not need strength, Jim, when you are in possession of leverage." Spock darted in, snaking his leg behind Jim's and canting his hip to throw his captain to the ground.
Jim peered up at him for a long moment before an excited smirk broke out across his face. "Careful. I can't guarantee I'll think rationally if you bring engineering and physics into this."
Spock offered his hand to pull Jim up. "Indeed? I was unaware you are capable of rational thought."
"Hey now." Jim swept his leg, tugging down on his hand and bringing Spock to the floor.
Spock controlled his fall, driving his elbow into the mat next to Jim's head. Jim twisted to the side, wrapping his arm around Spock's as he moved. Spock jerked his legs around, removing the pressure from Jim's hold on him by shifting his weight. He threw their weight jointly, creating enough momentum to twist Jim towards the mat. Jim hissed, wriggling.
"Where did you learn to wrestle?" Jim cawed, still struggling.
Spock pressed Jim's shoulder to the mat, pulling back. "I have studied numerous methods of self-defense, including multiple methods of grappling."
Jim sighed, finally relenting. Spock immediately let him up. Jim eyed him a moment, easing himself back to his feet, before giving in with only some reluctance.
"Okay. Fine." Jim quirked an awkward smile. "Show me the basics."
Spock did, and Jim was endlessly frustrated. There was no way Spock wasn't teasing him. No way. Spock was making him stand and shift and all sorts of stupid foot work and then he was making him re-learn everything he knew about punching and hitting things and blocking. Spock seemed perfectly fine with the whole situation, and that made Jim uncomfortable too.
He was uncomfortable because Spock wasn't. Spock was interacting with him like there was nothing odd about the situation and that just highlighted the fact that Jim wasn't friends with him. Jim wasn't. Because people didn't feel weird around their friends or make surprised utterances at learning their friend did like applying physics to fighting. Friends didn't make any excuse to talk about physics so they didn't have to talk about themselves. Friends didn't feel ashamed for talking about their interests instead of learning about their friends.
… .. . .. …
"What?" McCoy looked at Jim somewhat flatly, before shaking his head.
Jim squirmed. "I'm trying, damn it. Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Didn't Uhura give you the run down?" McCoy wandered off to check over how the sickbay was proceeding.
"Well, yeah, but that's a girl's perspective. Which is fine if I'm trying to sound like a lovestruck girl, but I'm not." Jim shrugged helplessly. "You know him as a guy...er...you know. As buddies."
McCoy rolled his eyes, checking off something on his PADD. "Your point being?"
"So you can totally tell me what I need to know so that I don't keep acting weird." Jim beamed. "You know how to be friends with him. I've got no idea. And while that apparently worked when I wasn't talking to him about anything but work, actually trying means I'm going to screw up."
McCoy sighed, the same look on his face that he used to give Joanna when she couldn't play a single note on her clarinet without squeaking. It was all at once affectionate and exasperated. Jim's enthusiasm to do this was so...perfect, so earnest.
"I really can't help you Jim. You probably can't talk with him about what I do." McCoy smirked. "Well, you could, but you wouldn't want to."
Jim scowled. "What? Why? I can talk about anything you two can. What can you talk with him about that I can't? Is...can you talk to me about it?"
McCoy whirled around, shocked by the whiny tone of that last sentence. "For god's sake Jim, we talk about you mostly."
Jim pulled quite the face. "What?"
McCoy shrugged. "Work and you are our main topics. Most of the time we talk about you. Considering how much you permeate both of our lives, it's almost inevitable. It isn't like he's particularly forthcoming about his family life or anything, anyway. And he's doing his hobbies for a profession."
Jim blinked at him, almost looking like he were considering what McCoy was saying. "What do you mean I permeate your lives?"
McCoy narrowed his eyes, heading back for his office to put his paperwork up. "When you aren't on duty you're either here or somewhere around Spock. It's a wonder you have any personal time."
Jim gaped a moment. There was no way he spent that much time around Spock. Except...well, now that he thought about it he did wander around the labs a lot. And he knew he played chess in the rec room with him fairly often. And...they did just hang around one of the observation decks talking every now and then.
"Oh god" Jim shook his head. "Have I really been spending that much time with him?"
McCoy snorted. "And now you understand why it isn't so hard for everyone to believe you're dating."
Jim froze, gawking at him while he moved to sit behind his desk. Bones flashed him a terrible grin before shooing him out of the room. Numbly, Jim obeyed, too shocked to really protest his dismissal. He stalked off towards his room, intent on making a chart, because charts never lied.
… .. . .. …
"What are you doing?" Uhura tapped her foot impatiently on the floor, hands on her hips.
Jim looked up from where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the observation deck, reading glasses half off his nose and a PADD he was scribbling furiously on. "Um...Personal work. I got tired of working in my room, am I not allowed to do that?"
She made a sound in the back of her throat that indicated annoyance. "Did you forget already?"
Jim furrowed his brow, before shrugging a little. "I guess? Ah...what can I do for you?"
She rolled her eyes, gesturing for him to stand. "Get up, come make your weekly appearance in the rec room."
Jim stood with a frown. "Weekly appearance?"
A pained look flashed through her eyes before she turned towards the door. "Yes Kirk. You usually head to the rec room once a week to play chess and another time to just mingle."
Jim followed her, deep in thought. He mingled? Well, he knew he would wander the ship, and the rec room did end up on his itinerary every now and then. But people always stopped what they were doing whenever he came into the room...oh. They probably considered it mingling, because he showed up and just listened to them talk about ship business and any problems they needed solved. Was that...a good thing? Was it considered friendly and good leadership to just listen to people?
Uhura was watching him from the corner of her eye in the turbo lift.
He was clearly mulling something over, and she didn't know how to take that. McCoy had never mentioned how much Jim was keeping himself apart from them. She wasn't sure if she should thank him or smack him, because she could see it now. It hurt to see how little he even realized it. How he perceived his own actions wasn't even close to how the crew saw him. She straightened herself as the turbo lift came to a stop, a firm look settling on her face. She was a communications expert, she wasn't going to stand for that.
Everyone seemed to perk up when Jim entered the rec room. Spock set aside his PADD, sitting up just a bit straighter, canting an eyebrow at Uhura. She waved him off with a look and headed to plot over Chekov's shoulder. Jim shifted his stance a little, standing up straighter.
A few people threw greetings his way and he nodded with a polite smile. After an awkward moment, Jim moved over to sit on the couch next to Spock. This was going in his chart. A few people muttered about ship business before they mostly just quietly returned to what they were doing. Jim was getting the feeling people were staring at him more than usual. He glanced over at Spock to see him watching him rather blatantly, a contemplative look in his eyes. It was unnerving. Jim flushed, looking back down at his PADD and trying to focus on his chart. People kept glancing at him. They weren't even talking to him like normal.
McCoy came slinking in half an hour later looking exhausted. He just about collapsed into a vacant chair, muttering something about ensigns. Sulu, who's turn it apparently was to distribute drinks, dropped a cold tea on the table in front of him without missing a single beat.
He hadn't asked Jim what he wanted to drink. But he hadn't gotten Spock a drink either. Apparently neither of them normally accepted drinks while mingling in the rec room.
Jim tried to observe the crew without being obvious, but with people continually throwing looks his way he wasn't exactly successful. He could only just see what they were doing from the corner of his eye. Spock was still watching him over top of his PADD.
After a good long ramble about people with no respect for their own lives and no self-preservation, McCoy finally started looking around the room. It didn't take long for him to spot Jim. It didn't take Jim long to spot the subsequent grin and put his PADD down entirely. People took that as a sign that they could start blatantly watching him again. He tried to ignore it.
"What are you grinning at?" Jim hissed.
"Nothing." McCoy didn't even try to fight down his smile. "It's just nice to see you following doctor's orders for once."
"What?" Jim frowned, trying to remember if Bones had said anything recently.
He tapped his temple, still grinning maniacally. Jim brought his hand up to his temple, and immediately felt the thin wire frame of his glasses. Startled, Jim yanked them off. His cheeks started to burn as he realized that was why everyone was staring at him so intently. He didn't like to wear his reading glasses because he felt like it was a weakness that his crew wouldn't want to see. How was a captain supposed to keep his crew's confidence if he was impaired in such a stupid and normally fixable way? He didn't need the glasses that bad, and he couldn't take corrective measures, so he usually just avoided them entirely.
Damn this chart and its induced eyestrain.
"Quit being vain and wear the glasses Jim." McCoy snorted, returning to his tea.
"I do not understand why he would decline to wear corrective lenses as a matter of vanity, Doctor." Spock had collected them from Jim's hand and was inspecting the simple frames.
Jim was pouting, curled up in his corner and glaring down at his PADD. "It's not a vanity thing."
McCoy narrowed his eyes, scooping some ice out of his drink to throw in their direction. "None of that you pointy eared bastard."
Jim sat up bolt right, ignoring the ice that just pelted him, his expression tight. "Bones, can I talk to you for a minute?"
McCoy took note of the extremely harsh tone of voice and stood up, a little unsure of what was going on. Jim all but stormed out of the room and with a confused glance, McCoy followed. Jim was standing in the empty hall when he exited, a livid look on his face.
"What bee flew in your bonnet?" McCoy scowled.
Jim snarled. "Never talk about any of my crew like that again."
McCoy didn't startle easily, but his best friend bearing down on him with that kind of ferocity was certainly startling. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't even pretend Bones." Jim snapped. "You're better than that. If I hear another xenophobic comment from you-"
"Excuse me?" McCoy roared, cutting him off. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about but I won't just sit down and let you insult my integrity."
Jim bristled and made to retort, but came up short when Spock exited the rec room. McCoy rolled his eyes.
"You do not have to be here." McCoy snapped.
"Indeed?" Spock glanced between them. "I believe I have been the cause of a misunderstanding."
"What?" Jim and McCoy said at once.
"Doctor, it is apparent that Jim was angered by your terms of endearment towards me." Spock quirked an eyebrow, earning two flabbergasted looks. "He appeared agitated only after your use of the moniker 'pointy eared bastard'. As I am aware you are neither speaking ill of my parentage or my species, it is unimportant to me. I am aware that you use such terms, along with other monikers such as 'green-blooded hobgoblin' and 'cold-blooded computer', not in an attempt to illicit an emotional response, but rather in the Terran tradition of vitriolic correspondence between acquaintances and friends. It would appear, however, that Jim has misinterpreted this."
Jim and McCoy blinked at him for a moment, letting that sink in.
"So you aren't upset?" Jim frowned.
"No Jim, I am not."
"Oh..." He glanced sheepishly at McCoy. "Sorry."
McCoy had a weird half smile on his face; the other half sneaking a hint of some highly disturbed thought. "Can't complain, really. It means a lot that you would stand up for him like that."
Jim flushed, suddenly feeling very awkward. "Yeah, well, if I'd been paying any attention I would have known that was normal behavior for both of you. So I guess I lose points there."
"I am grateful all the same." Spock nodded once to him, before turning his attention to McCoy. "I would request you explain your previous statement. None of what?"
McCoy shook his head. "Like I can't tell flirting when I hear it."
Spock's ears darkened a bit, but it went unnoticed by Jim. "What? No. Spock just doesn't get vanity because it wouldn't be logical. And it isn't a vanity thing anyway."
"Bull." McCoy snorted.
"My observations were not meant in a flirtatious manner, Doctor McCoy." Spock scolded, pointedly not looking at Jim.
"But you admit that your comment was based on the fact that you like Jim in glasses, right?" McCoy smirked.
"To like something is highly illogical, as are most preferences." Spock straightened. "My observations were based both on the necessity of his reading glasses and the fact that they do not affect his visual appeal in any way. As they are both significant to his eye health and are irrelevant to his looks, it would be illogical to base his decision not to wear them on vanity."
"So yes."
"It isn't a vanity thing!" Jim cried in exasperation, trying desperately to ignore the rest of the conversation.
"Sure it isn't." McCoy snorted, heading back for the rec room.
Jim shook his head. "It really isn't."
"You need not convince me, Jim." Spock quirked an eyebrow. "I am curious as to why you would not wear them regularly, if they are necessary, but I do not require an answer."
Jim shuffled a bit before gesturing back to the rec room. Spock nodded and entered first. People stopped talking as Jim entered the room and he felt like there was a stone in his chest. Why couldn't people just ignore him? Was he that much of a dampener on everyone's enjoyment? Feeling like his insides were turning to bile, Jim returned to the couch and his PADD. After a few seconds he reached over and yanked his reading glasses from where Spock was dangling them loosely in one hand, absently turning them over as he read whatever was on his PADD.
Jim turned scarlet as his fingers brushed Spock's but he pointedly ignored the bruising heat in his fingers as he brought his definitely not shaking hand up to replace his glasses on his face. Spock never looked up from his PADD, but Jim could swear there was a micro-expression there of amusement.
… .. . .. …
Jim winced tucking his feet up under himself in the doctor's chair. McCoy ignored the childish curling up on himself, continuing to scrub the dead skin off of his palms. Jim was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, even with the painkiller in his system.
"What have we learned about setting our hands on the inner workings of a starship?" McCoy hummed, abrading the burns so he could begin healing them.
Jim whimpered but didn't respond. He didn't really trust himself to talk. He was just glad he had the presence of mind to calmly peel his hands from the hot metal and get in touch with McCoy. Sure, Scotty fussed over him until Bones got there, but it was just Scotty. Jim trusted Scotty.
He liked Scotty; he was an awesome guy.
"Well, let me get the dermal regenerator on this and you should be fine. You'll be stiff for a while, but you'll be fine."
Jim nodded, staring down at his bloody raw hands. McCoy made quick work of cleaning them up. The pain diminished greatly, as they healed, and Jim finally released the death clench of his jaw. It ached, badly, but he was far more concerned with his hands.
"Will I ever play piano again doc?" Jim muttered flexing his overly stiff hands.
"No. Now stop touching things that hurt you."
"Oh." Jim shrugged a little. "I'll try to pay more attention next time."
"Have you been sleeping alright?" McCoy immediately started grilling him. "Are you noticing any weird side-effects from your connection to Spock? Have you been following the diet I made up for you? How are you feeling? Rundown? Depressed? Is anything wrong?"
Jim blinked at him for a moment before sighing. "I'm fine Bones, really."
"You've been lost in thought for a week, Jim. It seems like no one can get your attention for anything and you have your nose buried in that PADD of yours." McCoy busied himself with cleaning his equipment. "Everyone's been worried about you."
"I'm fine." Jim promised. "I'm just...thinking. I've had a lot to think about lately. Apparently I'm leading a completely different life then I ever thought. So...I need some time to re-evaluate where I'm at."
McCoy sat down next to him, a contemplative look on his face. "Yeah? How's that going?"
"Really poorly." Jim admitted. "Suddenly everything's really awkward and I'm trying to figure out what I used to do, because I was on autopilot and I don't know how I even survived like that. And I keep second guessing myself and trying to figure out what I've been doing wrong this entire time. Every time I start to feel happy and comfortable I panic and I don't know what to do. And every time people start looking at me I just can't handle it because I feel like I'm going to screw up and ruin everything. What if I act like myself and people don't like me? What then? What do I do when I've ruined this relationship I didn't mean to build up by changing how I act around people? How do I even know if I'm acting differently? I feel like I've been completely out of touch with reality and just got thrown into a parallel universe where everything's different."
"I don't think you're that lucky." Was all McCoy could say after several moments of silence.
Jim laughed just a little bitterly. "Yeah. This thing with Spock isn't helping at all though."
"Oh?" McCoy couldn't quite keep the gossipy hen out of his voice.
Jim shot him a sidelong look. "I'm surprised he hasn't talked your ear off about it, seeing as I'm such a huge part of both of your lives."
McCoy rolled his eyes. "Jim."
Jim shrugged a little. "I made a chart. It's scary. Seriously. I spend way too much time with Spock. But he's really being weird around me. I guess. Maybe not? I mean, I'm still figuring out how normal our interactions are, but he really doesn't like talking about this hole in my brain."
"How persistent have you been about this discussion?"
"Um..." Jim sort of shuffled in his seat, rubbing his sore hands tentatively. "He usually walks away when I start alluding to talking about it."
McCoy rolled his eyes. "Up. Go. Find him, talk. You told me that this bond was dangerous and made you feel weak and sick when the shield was dropped. You said you started getting panic attacks just thinking about it. That isn't going to fly. Get this solved so there is no way it can hurt either of you."
Jim frowned. "I'm scared."
McCoy sighed, patting him on the back. "I know Jim. Relationships are scary things, even imaginary ones. Just remember that works both ways. The way he sees it, you guys had a decent friendship going and then he screwed it up trying to save your life."
"He didn't screw it up." Jim furrowed his brow. "I just didn't even know it existed."
McCoy smiled, shaking his head. "Be that as it may Jimmy, he was willing to destroy his friendship with you as long as you were going to be okay. He's never done anything like this before, real or fake. He's just as out of his depths as you are. Go talk to him."
Jim nodded, reluctantly rising to his feet. "Okay...you might want to prep the sickbay for surgery."
"He's not going to hurt you." McCoy snorted, shoving him out of his office and into the main sickbay. "And for gods sakes don't tell me the details."
Jim gave him a confused look. "What?"
McCoy had already locked himself back in his office. A few personnel throughout sickbay were giggling and snickering at him. He left with a bit of a huff, ignoring the way people were putting their heads together to talk about him. Couldn't they at least wait to gossip until he left the room?
… .. . .. …
Jim ran his fingers through his hair, effectively ruining all the hard work he had just put into it. He stared down at the plain white t-shirt on his bed and growled, glancing back at his dresser. Everything else he had was too formal or was regulation. He didn't want either of those things. Disgruntled, he shucked off the Captain's tunic and undershirt at the same time, managing to tangle himself up in it for a moment. His hair was going every which way at that point.
Jim hesitated, glancing down at himself. He was still wearing the rest of his regulation wear. With a groan he returned to his dresser. Blue jeans. He needed blue jeans. Why were they buried beneath everything? Ug. Jim kicked off his boots as he continued to dig for the old pair of jeans. His pants were half off when he made to throw a pair of red boxers across the room out of his way. He stumbled as he flailed to catch them and landed on his ass.
This was not going well.
He managed to get mostly changed though. His red boxers were peeking out from under his jeans because they kept riding down his hips, but his shirt would probably cover that. Jim tied on a pair of sneakers surveying them critically. They would go well enough, the red tied in with his boxers. And no, it didn't seem at all odd to him to be color coordinating with his underwear.
Jim went over his check list again. Showered, check. Shaved, check. Hair styled...well, that was a work in progress. Clean clothes, check. Good personalized look, more or less. Shit. He'd forgotten cologne. Jim froze when he was half way to the bathroom. Maybe cologne wasn't the best idea. He never could get the balance on that right.
Jim turned back to his bed. Okay. No cologne, but definitely deodorant. He felt like he was missing something. His shoe laces were tied, he was wearing underwear, he had pants. What was wrong with this image? Jim glanced over himself, running through the checklist again, dodging piles of clothing as he paced his room. He couldn't think of anything. Maybe...No. Jim ran a hand down his chest. Definitely no. He had waxed the day before. He was perfectly groomed, so what was missing?
A second later Jim blinked, looking down at his bare chest. Oh.
With a sigh he grabbed the T-shirt off his bed and pulled it on. That was marginally better. Jim scrunched up his face, ruffling his hair again. Okay. He wasn't getting much better at this point. Jim slapped himself a few times, jumped up and down, and desperately wished all that nervous energy he had somehow built up would disappear. It didn't go away, but that wasn't going to stop him from wishing.
Clean, and as ready as he was going to be, Jim stepped out of his room. He took a couple deep breaths and marched the twenty or so paces to Spock's door. He rang the chime before he could chicken out, then desperately clawed at his face for half a second wondering why he did that, before snapping up straight and shoving his hands in his pockets. He heard Spock announce that he was coming and quickly ran his hand through his hair again. When Spock opened the door he shoved his hand back in his pocket and smiled awkwardly.
"Hey Spock."
"Captain." Spock paused, looking him over slowly and quirking an eyebrow. "Jim."
Jim felt his cheeks heat a little. "Can I come in?"
Spock glanced over Jim's shoulder at few personnel walking past. "You may."
He stepped to the side and Jim swept into the room. It looked like it always did. A moment later Jim wondered why and how he knew that. He didn't mule on it long, because he turned his attention to Spock and caught the fact that he had been staring at him.
"What?" Jim craned to look at his back, wondering if he'd gotten something stuck to his shirt or something.
"I am curious as to why you are no longer in uniform."
"I'm not on duty." Jim frowned, looking back at him. "Why? Does it look bad?"
They both stood there for a moment staring at each other. Okay, so that was a bit ridiculous. There was no way Jim couldn't pull off jeans and a t-shirt. The only thing worse was that he was asking Spock about how he looked. Jim glanced nervously down, plucking at his shirt absently.
"Sorry. I'm just...I wanted to be casual."
"You have succeeded." Spock informed him curtly.
Jim scuffed an awkward shoe on the ground. "So...uh...how are you?"
"My health is adequate." He circled him a moment, before moving on to the sitting area.
Jim paused, giving him a scrutinizing look. Was Spock just checking him out? No. Clearly not. He was just curious, because he'd never seen Jim in jeans. It was those stupid rumors. Jim was starting to observe their actions like those damn gossips on his crew. But he knew there was nothing going on there. People were just being ridiculous. Jim felt a little more at ease with that idea.
He followed Spock, plopping down on the couch next to him. "So..."
Spock cocked his head to the side. "Yes Jim?"
Jim chuckled nervously, almost hiccuping in his apprehension. "Can we talk?"
"We are currently doing so."
"Right. Obviously. I just meant." Jim waved his hand somewhat maniacally around in wild gesticulation. "Specifics. Like...questions. Can I ask questions?"
Spock's eyebrow inched up higher. "You are always welcome to make inquiries of me, Jim."
Now Jim did hiccup out a laugh and Spock seemed to find that highly interesting. "What do I have bonds to other people?"
Spock eyebrow dropped sharply, his face schooling itself flat. "All life forms have bonds, Jim. With few exceptions, only telepaths can access these bonds consciously. Just because we are not aware of something's presence does not mean it is not there. It simply means we have not discovered it yet."
Jim nodded. "Oh."
"Is this the only reason you wished to speak to me?" Spock asked after several minutes of silence.
"What's it like being in love?" Jim blurted out.
They both sat in silence, with Jim excoriating himself for asking such a stupid question. Spock looked down at his hands, blinking repetitively as he seemed to be contemplating the question closely.
"I do not understand your question." He finally admitted.
Jim shrank on himself. "I just...you still love Uhura, right?"
A weird look came up in Spock's eyes. "My mother explained quite well that loving someone and being in love are two separate emotions. Nyota and I were not compatible, for several reasons."
Jim curled his knees up to his chest, feeling incredibly awkward at the mention of Spock's mother. "Sam never got that. Mom loved dad. Even though I'd never seen them together, I knew it. But even being in love, even loving someone with everything you have isn't always practical. There other considerations."
"Indeed." Spock shifted closer to him. "I will admit that I am confused by this topic, however."
Jim shrugged a little. "I can't even always follow my brain...but...uh...I feel like we need to talk. So I figured if we just started talking I'd get there eventually...where ever there is."
"Indeed?" Spock glanced away for a moment. "I was informed of your injury by Mr. Scott."
Jim winced, looking at his hands. "They're mostly better. Still a bit stiff, but pretty good."
"May I see?" Spock reached out.
Tentatively, Jim gave him one of his hands. Spock went through the process of flexing Jim's fingers and hand, checking his range of mobility and grip. Jim was familiar with the process. This wasn't his first hand injury. Spock's fingers were deft in their mission of inspecting Jim's hand. The ache he had been feeling the last few hours was easing out of his palm and Jim felt for the first time since the stupid accident like his hand wasn't trying to lock up in a claw permanently. Spock released his hand and waited patiently for the next. He didn't have to wait long.
Spock inspected it with the same methodical intent as the other. Jim watched with detached intensity. Spock's hands were about the same size as his, but his fingers were a bit longer. That seemed really strange to him, and he wasn't really sure why it was so interesting. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but Jim hadn't shown up just to get a hand massage. He really did need to talk to him at some point or another.
"I get panic attacks when I think about you dropping the shield on the bond." There, he'd said it.
Spock just stared at him for a moment before a displeased look ghosted through his features. "Why did you not inform me of this earlier?"
"I didn't really know how to talk about it." Jim admitted, drawing his hands back to wrap them around his knees.
"Jim, if the bond is causing you mental distress, we will have it removed."
"No." Jim yelped, half leaping on top of Spock like if he didn't Spock would go do that immediately. "It hasn't even been a week yet. I just...I don't want to have to worry about being in a dangerous situation. If something's happening and you absolutely need to drop the shield, because of either of us, I want to be able to act, rather than loose my mind over it. I want to fix it, not remove it."
"What do you suggest?"
Jim took a deep breath. "I'm not sure I'm ready to have you in my head, but we need to work on this...so...I want you to drop the shield."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "This will likely cause you to panic."
"I know. I know." Jim worried his lip, wincing when he scraped the cut. "So I'm going to ask you really nicely not to freak out when I touch you."
"I see. If you believe this will help, then I will facilitate your actions. It is prudent that we make some attempt at lessening the danger of this bond." Spock agreed.
Jim took a deep breath and blew it out his nose, smiling nervously. Spock asked him if he was ready and Jim asked him to wait a bit as he stilled his nerves. Quirking an odd smile at him, Jim nodded, one hand on Spock's knee. He certainly hoped that would be enough. Spock nodded back and took a deep breath. A second later Jim could feel that pull at the back of his mind. He felt panic bubble up in him and immediately tangled his fingers with Spock's.
Spock eased the barrier back between them, having familiarized himself with it so he would not need to enter Jim's mind to construct the shield. He did not remove his hand from Jim's.
Jim fought down his nausea and shook his head. "That was worse than I remember. It feels like...like I'm supposed to be reaching out but I'm frozen in place."
Spock considered that for a moment before nodding. "Vulcans create bonds telepathically, so they are much stronger than the bond any normal human would posses. Because the bond is telepathic in nature, your katra wishes to respond telepathically, but is unable to do so."
"So that's why your dad said telepathic contact helped? Because it...accustoms humans to telepathic contact, or because it helps them be able to use the bond without a normal level of telepathy?"
"It is likely the first." Spock glanced at their hands. "My mother expressed difficulty in communicating with my father through their bond."
"Oh...Okay." Jim stared at their hands a moment, flushing. "Let's try that again."
"Jim-"
"Listen, Spock. If it's just getting used to it, then I want to keep trying. This is the safest way to do it." Jim had fixed him with a patented Captain Kirk stare.
"Very well. We shall attempt again to lower the shield. This shall be the last time for now."
"Two more." Jim protested, raising his free hand with two fingers up to illustrate his point.
"Jim."
"Just twice."
"I do not believe this to be a wise decision."
Jim grinned. "It doesn't have to be. Don't worry. You won't hurt me."
"The risk to your mental stability is greater than I believe should be risked."
Jim flexed his hand, squeezing Spock's fingers lightly, a soft smile on his face. "I trust you Spock."
Spock tensed, eyes going wide. Jim had only a second to realize the enormity of what he just told Spock before Spock was asking if he was ready. Jim nodded dumbly, which was a bad idea, because he wasn't. He was half wrapped around Spock by the time he managed to re-erect the shield. Jim chuckled awkwardly, unpeeling himself.
"Oops."
"Jim...Do not take this so lightly."
Jim nodded, but he couldn't just convince himself that he needed the doom and gloom. He did trust Spock. He didn't feel like he barely knew him and this whole thing had been so utterly confusing, but he knew he could trust Spock. The little voice that had been so keen on protesting he didn't know Spock well enough had now taken up the job of championing Spock's willingness to lie on his behalf. He was ignoring it.
"One more time." Jim promised.
Spock eyed him dubiously for a moment. "If you are sure."
Jim took a deep breath, thought about the feeling of being utterly alone, and looked into the deep brown eyes in front of him. He was utterly alone, locked away behind a wall. No one could reach him, complete isolation. No...not complete. He'd thought that once, but even his walls weren't impenetrable.
"I'm sure." Jim nodded, blue eyes locked on Spock's.
The shield dropped, and Jim felt like he was plummeting with it. He reacted immediately, slamming his eyes shut and grabbing blindly at Spock's hands. The connection didn't feel like near enough. Something seemed to shift, and he could feel Spock moving to rebuild the wall between them.
"Wait." Jim croaked out.
Spock did. Jim could still feel it, the deep sensation of being tugged on from his very core and not being able to reach back. The nausea seemed to be leveling off, though, without Spock shielding. He was still panicking, but Jim did what he did best. He let it wash over him, controlling it. Bravery wasn't the absence of fear. Fear was strong. Fear reminded him he was alive, reminded him there were things left that were worth losing, things worth fighting for. Fear meant hope, meant fighting. If you weren't fighting, if you didn't think you could win, you had no reason to be afraid.
Jim opened his eyes.
For a moment, he felt like he understood, because staring into Spock's eyes, he could feel the connection between them. He didn't have to be telepathic to read Spock's soul there. It was just a moment, but it was enough.
Jim took a shaky breath and eased his grip on Spock's hands, feeling blood rush back into his fingers. That must have been hurting Spock considerably, but he showed no signs of it. Jim glanced down at their hands and then up again at Spock's face. He could do this. He untangled his fingers, letting their hands just rest together. Jim smiled excitedly, his breathing still a bit erratic. Slowly, hesitantly, Jim pulled one hand away. It was shaking, badly, but Jim brought it up to scrub his fingers through his hair.
An image came to mind, unbidden, of him sitting in his room, staring down at a picture of a very young Sam, George Kirk holding him, ruffling his hair. He reached up, placing his hand in his hair, but his hands were small, and he couldn't even tell if he was doing it right. Little Jim glanced up at the mirror above his dresser, and was stunned by the pathetic image he saw there.
Spock eased the shield back in place, eyes inscrutable. Jim pulled his hand back a little too fast, feeling incredibly awkward. The weird elation he had been feeling at being so successful was almost completely gone, leaving an awkward hollowness in its place.
"It had not been my intent to pry." Spock started, but Jim just shook his head.
"It's okay."
Spock stood, flexing his hands a moment before placing them at the small of his back. "Has this proven beneficial, Jim?"
Jim nodded, stretching, but not standing. "Hey, I was able to pull myself away on my own, wasn't I?"
"Affirmative." Spock sounded a little strangled, which was strange to Jim.
What wasn't though? He couldn't exactly blame him, either. Here Spock had lie to save his life, and now he was stuck constantly smooshing his brain against an illogical human's. That and he had to suffer through Jim constantly groping about his hands. In no way was this normal, or probably the choice he would have ever made for himself.
"I feel like I'm ruining your life." Ah damn, where did that filter go when he needed it?
Spock turned to stare at him, one eyebrow practically hidden in his hairline. "You are not."
"You say that..." Jim waved his hand awkwardly, pulling his leg up onto the couch with the other. "But that doesn't change the fact that most people wouldn't really want to completely uproot their life and start digging around in my brain and making out with me...well, a fair number might want that last one, but not with the other strings attached. And those people aren't you."
"You are rambling." Spock cocked his head to the side. "I will admit that this has been a drastic change, but I would not have done so were I not willing."
"It isn't like you had much choice." Jim snorted. "You're too loyal to let me die and you didn't realize you'd need to babysit my brain when you said you'd rather be bonded to it than to some stranger's."
"I think you would find I would have been significantly less pleased with my current position if I were forced both to serve without you and to share my mind with once such as the Vulcan who assaulted you." Somehow Spock managed to sound completely honest and not indecorous and a little more serious than Jim was strictly comfortable.
Jim chuckled. "You say that to all the Starfleet captains you're mock engaged to."
"Indeed." Spock agreed to a sputtering laugh. "As you are the only Starfleet captain I have such an engagement to, that would be correct."
"Now I'm feeling sorry for myself." Jim muttered, shaking his head.
Spock raised an eyebrow.
"I can't believe I've been missing this." Jim gestured between them, a pained look in his eyes. "How often don't I laugh at your jokes?"
Spock hesitated, like he was going to deny ever making jokes for a moment. "It is not a frequent occurrence that you find humor in anything I have said."
Jim frowned. "I'm sorry."
"You have no reason to apologize Jim. At the time, you did not derive humor from my 'jokes' so you did not laugh. It is frequent that people do not find humorous with a colleague what they would with a friend." Spock's eyes looked just a little pinched.
Damn that hurt. "You are my friend. You have been and you will always be my friend."
Jim felt something weird clench in his chest. Why was he getting so emotional saying that? Why was he so afraid of how Spock would respond?
He had nothing to fear, though, because Spock's big brown eyes softened. He felt like a weight was off his chest. Yeah, he'd screwed up before, but he wasn't in his ivory tower anymore. Spock had saved him. And maybe that did make him sound just a bit like a fairytale princess, but he was going to ignore that. As long as Bones didn't hear about that Jim's pride would still be intact.
"And you as well, Jim." Spock almost whispered.
Jim bit his lip, and immediately regretted it as he split it open again. Spock leaned down, catching Jim's chin so he could inspect the damage there. Jim went red, incredibly uncomfortable with anyone staring that intensely at his mouth. Spock swept his thumb of Jim's bottom lip clearing the blood momentarily from the raw cut. It scraped awkwardly, a little painful, but Jim was just confused.
"It does not appear you need medical assistance, however I would recommend that you cease biting your lip, Jim." Spock released him, wiping the blood from his hand on his pants.
Jim sucked on his lower lip, avoiding Spock's eyes. "I'll try to remember that."
Spock hesitated a moment, before resting his hand on Jim's head, his fingers twining through his hair instantly. Jim snapped his head up in surprise. Spock's cheeks were a mint green, his eyes just a bit too wide. Jim felt his cheeks heat too, was aware that he was probably cherry red. Spock's long fingers felt surprisingly comfortable in his hair, comforting. A second later Jim was reminded of what most people do with a fist full of his hair and the fuzzy warm feeling in his gut disappeared. Spock didn't linger though, withdrawing immediately.
He wasn't going to apologize for overstepping his bounds, but he would not push further.
Jim fought down a pout. How was it fair that he just got more out of sorts while Spock managed to straighten himself out and stop being so weirded out by the entire situation? Jim stood, and tripped immediately over his blasted shoes. This was why he wasn't allowed things with laces. Spock caught him easily, blinking in surprise.
Jim blushed. Spock's eyelashes were actually pretty long.
"Sorry." Jim murmured, highly aware of just how close their faces were.
"You have not transgressed." Spock was speaking just as softly.
It felt weird. Jim could feel the movement of air from Spock's lips shifting so close to his own. It was hard to focus on anything, because Spock was so close, so Jim let his eyes say half-focused on Spock's. He could feel Spock's warmth keenly, aware of the heat of his lips. His mouth was tingling from it, almost an indescribable sensation. Suddenly the room felt much hotter than it had a second before.
"Why is it so warm in here?" Jim wondered absently, still trying to process the new sensation.
"Forgive me." Spock seemed to hesitate, like he wasn't sure what he was asking forgiveness for. "I neglected to take into account your differing physiology. The room is currently ideal for Vulcan physiology."
"Oh." Jim huffed out an amused breath. "It's your room. You don't have to apologize."
"Lower temperatures are of little consequence. I will adjust it from here on out."
Jim considered that for a moment. "Right. We need to talk about next time."
Spock pulled back. Jim felt a little colder, but he ignored it. Jim tugged his shirt a little to straighten it and smiled awkwardly.
"What do you wish to discuss?"
"Well, I'd like to know if there's going to be a next time..." Jim felt shy rather suddenly and that didn't suit him at all.
"I am amendable to this." Spock considered him for a moment. "Though perhaps not as frequent, given the strain on both your mental health and my hands, Jim."
Jim gaped. "How did you manage to just insult me and sound worried about me in the same breath?"
Spock quirked an eyebrow. "I do not believe I have done any such thing."
"Sure you didn't." Jim smirked. "I should probably go now. It's late and I actually need to sleep some time before my shift."
"Indeed."
Jim proceeded to nearly trip again on his shoe lace. Spock knelt down inspecting it for only a moment before taking up the lace and tying a quick and efficient bow in it. Jim wasn't sure why, but that was really awesome. Spock glanced up at him, both eyebrows raised.
"A most illogical choice in footwear, Jim."
Jim grinned. "They match."
Spock looked him over, a little more intensely then when Jim first stepped in the room. Slowly, he rose to his feet, looking down slightly at Jim, still observing. Jim tried not to giggle as Spock clearly looked for some hint of red. James T. Kirk did not giggle. It never happened.
"I admit, I do not see how it connects in any manner to your other clothing."
Jim smirked. "Use your imagination."
He sauntered out of Spock's room with a simpering grin. He could feel his eyes lingering on his ass until the door slid shut. Good to know he got the message. A few people still heading to their rooms were giving him looks, but he ignored it completely. He was practically skipping as he entered his room. He then looked at the piles of clothes around his room and felt a moment of horror.
He was just flirting with Spock.
He was just flirting with Spock about his underwear.
He was just flirting with Spock about his underwear, and Spock had checked out his ass.
That totally happened.
Jim groaned, flopping down on his bed. What the hell was that all about? Jim didn't have many friends he just flirted with. It didn't mean anything, but still. It was a closeness he didn't have with many people. He wasn't comfortable, knowing most people wouldn't understand. So it was something he only did with people he knew wouldn't misunderstand. People who wouldn't mind. People who would humor him and flirt back. People who could stand the wrong impressions, which was why Jim didn't flirt with Bones in front of people who didn't know it was just joking.
People he didn't work with.
But Jim had already noticed once that he sounded awfully flirty with Spock.
Groaning, Jim rolled over to begin the process of getting ready for bed. He leaned down to untie his shoes and froze. He just couldn't believe Spock had actually tied his shoe for him. There was no reason for that to be as cool as it was. Jim kicked his shoes off, deciding it was more efficient than having to untie and retie them. He managed to kick most of his clothing into a pile in front of the dresser in the process of changing.
As he settled himself into bed, he took one last lingering look at his hands. Tentatively, he reached out, shifting his gaze from his hand to the wall beyond it. Somewhere past that wall was Spock.
Jim turned out the lights, curling around his pillow.
… .. . .. …
"Captain." Uhura sounded almost amused. "You're receiving correspondence from Admiral Pike again. You really should just take his message."
Jim sighed. A large part of him agreed with her. He should just take it there and at least have the cushion of his crew being around so that Pike couldn't get onto any particularly dangerous topics. His damn propriety and that little voice screaming to keep his business out of the crew's eyes insisted he should take it in private. The rest of him was childishly pouting and hoping if he ignored it long enough he wouldn't have to deal with it.
"Fine. Send it to the conference room." Jim rose. "Sulu, take the conn. Spock, with me."
Spock raised an eyebrow, but did as he was directed. Their reliefs were quick to fall into place. In the privacy of the conference room, Jim gave Spock a pleading look. The last seven correspondences Pike had sent were increasingly agitated and only moderately amused. He was not pleased the Jim wasn't explaining everything to him.
"I believe this is, as the doctor has stated before 'time for you to face the music' Jim." Spock quirked an eyebrow. "I do not know if it is wise to tell Admiral Pike the truth. I will defer to your judgment on this matter."
"This is half your fault."
"I am aware. I am willing to accept responsibility as well."
Jim nodded, leaning forward to rest his head on Spock's shoulder because he was tired damn it. Spock hesitated a moment before reaching up to rest his hand on the back of Jim's head. If Jim could see his face, he would see it was grass green. Jim couldn't from where he was at, but Pike could as soon as the view screen popped up.
"Am I interrupting?"
Jim leapt a good three feet from Spock, straight into attention. "Pike."
"I guess that answers most of my question." Pike snorted, looking between the two of them. "Now I want to know why my two favorite boys didn't tell me they were in a relationship."
Jim flushed. "We aren't...er...it's complicated."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Quite."
Pike frowned. "I just got a paper across my desk informing me of a Vulcan bonding ceremony or something to that effect. If you aren't in a relationship, you're in dangerous territory boys. I won't lecture you on the stupidity of lying about this, because you know better. I don't believe either of you is stupid enough to actually lie about being in a relationship. I understand it may be complicated enough you aren't ready for labels yet, but keep in mind that other people need a label for it. You are an interesting shade of violet Jim."
He was. It was an interesting sensation, too. "I understand."
Pike leaned forward, smirking. "I don't think it'll be a problem. It's pretty clear you two are working it out."
"I do not understand your meaning." Spock fixed him with a highly questioning look.
Pike shook his head. "Don't worry about it Spock. But you two should really try not to get caught in such compromising positions."
The both blushed, glancing at each other. If only that was as easily done as it was said. They weren't even in a real relationship and Jim was sure they'd been caught in more compromising positions than Spock and Uhura had even been.
"How does that even work?" Jim asked himself out loud.
"What?" Pike hummed.
"It's just..." Jim glanced apologetically at Spock. "When he was with Uhura he was a picture of decorum, but he and I keep ending up in embarrassing situations."
Spock quirked an eyebrow. "Indeed. I have noticed this tendency as well."
Pike tried not to laugh, he really did. "It's easier for a civilized man to act as a savage then it is for a savage to act civil."
"What?" Jim frowned, furrowing his brow.
Spock looked no closer to understanding Pike than Jim. "A strange observation, Admiral."
"Perhaps." Pike smiled. "I expect you to file an actual report about your relationship. There is paperwork and you know it. Congratulations boys."
Pike cut the communication off. Jim and Spock stood in silence for a long moment before Jim finally sighed and started rubbing at his face.
"Why is there always paperwork?" He groaned.
"I do not know." Spock admitted. "I had believed we could avoid filing such a report at this juncture, but it would appear the news report has made it necessary."
Jim had to smile. "Still...even if it isn't a real relationship...I'm glad that Pike approves."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Fascinating."
Jim's smile dropped. "What? Why is that fascinating?"
"You are always fascinating Jim."
Jim flushed. "Just for that I'm going to make you fill out the paperwork on your own."
Spock raised both eyebrows slightly. "Indeed? Very well Jim."
"Wait." Jim frowned. "I have a distinct feeling I don't want that...I'll help you fill it out later. Um...over dinner?"
Spock's eyes widened a bit and his ears went green. "As you wish captain."
Spock practically ran from the room then. Jim scowled. Did he say something? Because Spock was doing that stupid, cute, totally-not-emotionless blushing thing again. Jim silently scratched out that second one and promptly ignored it. He nearly patted himself on the back over not being so weirded out by those thoughts, but he'd really rather not pay attention to them at all because then he could pretend they didn't happen.
He sauntered back onto the bridge absently lost in thought. He glanced over to where Spock was leaning over his station. He heard a snicker or two and tore his eyes from Spock to see people trying not to look in his direction. A second later he realized how that must have looked and huffed into his chair, face at least three different shades of red. He wasn't staring at Spock's ass.
He really wasn't.
He glanced over. It was a pretty nice ass.
Damn it.
Jim sunk down lower in his seat, staring at his PADD. It wasn't anything. Jim was just looking at him. No harm in looking. Absolutely nothing weird about it. It wasn't important. Spock probably wouldn't even be phased by it. Hell, he'd been staring at Jim's ass the night before. It was just observing.
If it weirded him out, if he even noticed, then Spock could bring it up over dinner.
Oh. Oh god. Was he really going on a date with his first officer?
No. Paperwork. People didn't do paperwork on dates. Not even Spock. And Jim had only done that once and it was the worst date he had ever been on. He hadn't even gotten a goodnight kiss. Not that he wanted a goodnight kiss. This wasn't even a date. Because they weren't in a real relationship, just an official one.
Well that was a bit confusing.
He glanced over, and flushed as he realized Spock was still standing. "Sit down already!"
Spock whirled around to look at him, blinking, as did most of the crew. "Captain?"
Jim straightened, ignoring the bridge crew. "You're going to hurt your back doing that. Just sit down."
Spock winged up an eyebrow. "Your concern has been noted Captain."
"Spock." Jim growled, recognizing that tone. "Don't just ignore me."
"I am not, Captain."
Jim pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes and glaring. "Then why are you still standing?"
"I am currently engaged in discussion with you, Captain. I will take a seat when we have concluded our discussion." Spock cocked his head to the side.
Jim stood sharply. "Are you patronizing me?"
Spock seemed alarmed for a moment, before an impassive look overtook his face. "No, Captain. I am not."
"Sorry." Jim gestured vaguely, flopping back into his chair and rubbing his face with his free hand. "I'm sorry Spock."
After just a second, Jim felt a hand settle on his shoulder. He looked up to see Spock giving him a concerned look. Slowly, Spock knelt next to the Captain's chair.
"Jim...are you unwell?" His voice was soft.
He smiled sardonically. "No. I'm alright. I'm just...driving myself crazy here. I'll be fine."
Spock didn't look relieved by that. "Jim-"
Jim grabbed his hand, squeezing lightly. "I'm okay Spock. Really. I'm sorry if I worried you."
"Captain." Uhura called.
Spock straightened, pulling himself away and going to sit at his station. Jim whirled around to look at Uhura. She was giving him quite a look, and Jim didn't know what he had done to deserve that. She seemed somewhere between annoyed and amused.
"Yes Lieutenant?" Jim hummed, valiantly acting like that didn't just happen on the bridge.
She smirked at him. "The entire crew is here, if you need anything."
Jim flushed, turning back to his PADD and sinking in his chair. "Noted, Lieutenant. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …
Poor Jim. He doesn't even get to have his moments. Uhura's just trying to make it easier on him, honest. The awkward will get worse, I promise.