Okay I HAVE HAD IT. After this chapter I am POSTING the last "Hate This" and that is FINAL. *glares at self* Okay?

Ehem.

Anyway, your comments are so brilliant! *squee* You guys have fantastic insight (I'm serious, some of you are scarily good! Any Vulcans amongst my sexy readers?), and it makes me ridiculously pleased to hear speculation about what's gonna happen to our poor smitten bbs *pets them* So cute, so sweet... so oblivious.

Ah, slash, how thee brightens my day (oh spelling, how IDK what I'm doing most of the time with thou XD)

Chapter Four: Veritas Odit Moras

"I don't like this," Moss said, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry?"

They were finally standing in his office, a large, well-lit room with several wooden pieces of furniture (including the desk and chair); an expensive luxury. Even more surprising was a shelf with quite a few of the old books stacked neatly in alphabetical order.

"You two. I don't like how this looks." The man was frowning and looking from one to the other intently.

"What does it look like, Mr Moss?" Jim asked frostily. Beside him Spock was his usual, silent self.

Instead of replying, the lawyer took a step forward, put his hands in the small space where their shoulders were almost touching (but not quite) and pushed them apart, his unexpected strength making Jim stumble, so that there was at least a foot of air between the two.

"Lesson number one; friends don't stand next to each other like that."

"Like what?" Jim said indignantly, already missing the heat Spock's body radiated against his skin. It was comfortable.

"I want air particles to be able to pass between you," Moss said sarcastically. "Less than a foot of space is not enough. Your image from now on will be entirely professional. You will be colleagues that do what's right because that's your job, and you believe in your job."

"But we are colleagues-"

"But you're also very good friends. And you're close, am I right? Very close. Maybe there's even something here you're not telling me."

The man looked dispassionately at them and asked the question Jim had been expecting all day.

"Is there anything I need to know about that?"

"What, exactly, are you implying here?"

He'd tried to tell himself he shouldn't get angry, but the feeling was a powerful and volatile thing flaring in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh don't look so upset, Captain Kirk. It's a perfectly legitimate question."

"No, it's not," Jim said through gritted teeth. "Because I'm a bit tired of hearing it already, and this trial hasn't even begun."

"Okay, okay, calm down." Moss raised his hands in mock-surrender, and sneaked a glance at Spock. The half-Vulcan betrayed no hint of emotion, he was merely looking at his Captain, the perfect picture of composure. "So to make this absolutely clear, you both deny the existence of any sort of romantic involvement-?"

"Yes," Spock said curtly, not even bothering to look at the lawyer when he spoke.

"Really?"

"Yes!" Jim cried, exasperated.

"All right, all right. Say I believe you; can we at least agree that, if it's true that there's nothing between you, you don't need to be touching all the time?"

"We do not touch all the time," Jim shot back immediately, hoping he didn't sound like a petulant child. Granted, he knew he could be a bit handsy, but he always tried to be careful with Spock, not to make him uncomfortable. Unlike Mr You're-Too-Friendly McPersonal-Space-Blubble here, who had seen fit to shove them apart like that.

"Yes, you do." Before the Captain could protest again, Moss plunged on. "And don't deny it, I'm here to help you so you have to listen to me. It's the truth. And it has to stop. You're not being accused of being in a relationship; this trial is about whether that relationship interferes with the running of a constitution-class Starship."

"We know the charges—"

"The danger we face here is that the prosecution will try to turn it into an 'are they/aren't they' contest."

"But—"

"Lesson number two is this; if that happened, we would lose."

"But it won't," Jim said desperately. "Right? That's ridiculous! This whole thing is crazy!"

It felt so weird to be talking about this out loud, with Spock standing right there not saying anything.

"Of course it won't happen, because we won't let it. But I don't need the people of the jury to see you standing next to each other like that and think you make a cute couple. Also, it doesn't help that you're both so attractive."

Spock raised an eyebrow at that.

"I fail to see how our physical appearance is related to the jury's erroneous perception of our relationship."

Moss waved a hand in the air. "It just does, all right? And it could be a problem." He sighed wistfully. "I wish we could do something about that."

"What, you mean make ourselves less good-looking?" Jim smirked, vindictively pleased to note the lawyer's discomfort.

"No, I mean... oh, I don't know. Fine, forget I said it," the man huffed in annoyance and turned a critical eye to them once more. "But there's much more to this than looks, am I right?"

Neither Jim nor Spock could answer that.

"We will have to change something. There's a... hmmmm."

"What now?"

Jim rolled his eyes at Spock, whose mouth twitched, eyes glinting in silent complicity. Moss seemed to be deep in thought.

"I can't quite put my finger on it... but it's very much... there. Definitely something we're going to have to rectify... before it's too late."

All this vague prognostication of doom was starting to really get on Jim's nerves.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means there's a reason this trial is being conducted, Captain Kirk," Moss snapped. "And this dynamic you two've got going isn't working for the angle I want, so I'm telling you right now that it will need to change, or it's going to end up hurting your case. Give me a day to assess what I'm working with and then I'll tell you exactly what I want, but for now I can safely say that what I don't want is for you two to keep acting like you have until today. Because that got you court martialed.

"I have in my possession a very interesting list of charges being brought against you. Now, while I don't actually know every single transgression you've committed by heart yet, I've seen enough to know it will take more than a flash of that pretty smile to win over a jury. There is evidence, some damning evidence, against you."

Jim was about to argue furiously when, to his amazement, Spock stepped toward Mr Moss, his wide shoulders set and tense. Jim could practically feel the fury rolling off his first officer in menacing waves, even though another person would probably be fooled by Spock's contained expression.

"The evidence is incomplete," he said, his tone hard and sharp, syllables cutting the air like razors.

What had happened back in the diner to make him suddenly susceptible to his anger?

"You do not understand. If one were to analyse a soil-sample from one of Vulcan's deserts, he would find it to be insufficient to determine the entire planet's composition. Just as you cannot obtain perfect knowledge of the Human body by examining a single drop of blood. A synonymous mistake is being made here; out of context, data can be misleading. In fact, the entire construct which this trial is based upon appears a deliberate and obvious attempt to discredit James Kirk in his young Captaincy by planting false rumours and completely unfounded speculation that shall only serve to leave a mark in his otherwise excellent record, and not about finding the truth. So you are wrong. The evidence is not damning. The evidence, Mr Moss, is incomplete."

Jim was stunned.

He couldn't think, couldn't speak, was reduced to gaping at his first officer and fighting the sudden, inexplicable urge to throw his arms around Spock. Forced to fist his hands by his sides and take a calming breath, telling himself sternly that Moss wouldn't understand the gesture and Spock would probably freak out. So it was a bad idea. So he should really stop thinking about doing it.

"Very good, Mr Spock. You just surmised the entire basis of our defense in a concise and... expressive manner."

While Jim fought his inner struggle, Mr Moss was looking at Spock with narrowed eyes and something akin to suspicion; but if Spock suddenly realised he'd made a huge mistake in speaking as he had, he didn't show it.

Suddenly the lawyer clapped his hands, breaking the charged atmosphere.

"Defense strategy, which I intend to work on during the next ten days of preparation we've been given. I hate that we have such little time, but something as momentous as this was obviously going to be rushed through the appropriate channels."

"Yes. I surmised as much when I was informed that we would be expected here at the Starbase so immediately," Spock said, and Jim had finally got a hold of himself and was able to detect a strange caution in his first officer's voice. Later, he decided that he'd ask Spock what was wrong; maybe the pancake had been a bad idea. After all, there was probably a reason why Vulcans didn't include sugar in their diet. What if it had made him sick? Oh God, Spock was going to die and it was mostly Jim's fault! (A bit of the fault, naturally, fell on the pancake itself.)

"The Enterprise is one of the Federation's prime starships, I take it? Much in demand?" Moss asked.

Spock gave a nod, face blank. "Which makes these proceedings all the more... illogical."

"Yes, well." The calculating look in Moss's face never quite left after that. "Then I see no point in delaying the matter, let's get started!"

"What... now?" Jim said, surprised.

"Of course now." The lawyer walked around his desk and gestured to the two chairs in front of him. "Sit down, there's plenty to do... no, not like that, I said I want air to be able to pass between you!"

x

"So… was it bad?"

Jim tried to think of a negative enough word to describe the torture session he and Spock had had to endure; spending an entire day in Mr Moss' office with only the shortest lunch break in history.

He was almost pleased when he realised there were literally no words to describe the horror.

"Oh come on, it can't have been that bad?"

They were sitting at a table eating dinner with McCoy and Uhura, once again the object of every covert glance in the mess hall. Jim was doing his best not to let all the unwanted attention get to him by trying to convince himself that he was already used to being a focus of negative energy, even if it had been what felt like a long time ago.

"Jim?" the doctor said.

Spock put down the weird fork-thingy they'd been given to eat and looked at his Captain thoughtfully. "I believe Humans often mistakenly use the word… 'deadly.'"

Jim burst out laughing. Spock seemed fine now, back to his Vulcan self, and obviously not about to die from pancake ingestion, so there was probably no point in trying to ask him about his strange outburst before.

"While the meaning is obviously metaphoric in this instance—" Spock kept speaking, pitching his voice slightly louder over the sound of Jim's guffaws. "—I believe it does serve to illustrate a sentiment which the Captain vehemently expressed twelve seconds after we had exited Mr Moss' office."

"I see," McCoy said with a prominently raised eyebrow.

"The guy is insane, Bones," Jim said (didn't whine), remembering some of the things Moss had said to them along the day.

He knew he must keep the tone of this conversation light and not growl at the table, which would be strange and possibly give Bones an excuse to stick a hypo in his neck, but his smile became slightly harder to maintain as he couldn't help the blinding fury exploding in his chest whenever he recalled one of the lawyer's acidic comments.

"Do you always look at him like that?"

"…Captain Kirk, I'm over here."

"A little to the left, Captain Kirk, please. Remember Mr Spock is Vulcan and probably doesn't appreciate you violating his personal space."

"Image is everything in these cases, Captain Kirk."

"… and there's a lot of work to do so we'd best focus, right, Captain Kirk?"

"He appears to be very fixated on the… emotional aspects of the trial," Spock spoke looking down at his bowl of soup, face a lovely pale mask.

Uhura and McCoy exchanged a look. Jim felt a headache coming on.

"So," he sighed. "Moss mentioned we might know something of the prosecution soon, he's looking into it and will probably have a couple of names for us."

"That's great," Uhura said, obviously trying to sound encouraging.

"Yeah."

Suddenly his hunger seemed to have vanished. "Listen, I think I'm going to bed. Moss wants us in his office bright and early tomorrow." He stood to leave.

"You have not finished your meal," Spock commented, uncharacteristically attentive. Jim couldn't help feeling pleased.

"I'm not very hungry."

"Humans require nutrition. You have only eaten three leaves of celery and approximately one eighth of a carrot." His first officer raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

"He's right, Jim. You need to eat, you look like you just had a near death experience a couple of days ago. Oh wait."

Jim rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious, you're pale, thin… just looking at you makes me want to reach for the hypo."

"Please don't. Think of the whales."

"What?" Sometimes distracting Bones with nonsense worked. Not this time, sadly. "Ugh, I will hypo you unless you eat properly, dammit. Don't make me file this as an official recommendation."

"It's called a recommendation for a reason, Bones. As in, I can ignore it if I want to." But he sat back down and gave Spock a small, tired smile.

"So do you have any plans for the leave, Leonard?" Uhura asked the doctor.

"Not really. Chekov seemed very excited about the science program, though. Do you know anything about it?"

"Well, besides what Spock's been telling me." She turned to the half-Vulcan.

While they spoke Jim tried (unsuccessfully) to stab a piece of his salad.

"… and the research and development department was installed recently occupying Decks 6 and 7, to study the effects of Gamma Rays upon the sporeous flora-"

"What the hell is this thing?" Jim burst out finally, frowning in comic frustration as the tiny prongs continued to fail at sticking anything.

"I do not know." Spock said, breaking off from his explanation and examining the funny round fork. "But it appears to serve as a spoon as well; perhaps an upgrade in the replicators meant to economise space."

"Well, it sucks."

Spock kept staring at him with his knowing eyes.

"What?"

"You are not applying force correctly."

"If you're about to talk physics to me at the table, Spock—"

"We often discuss physics whilst eating meals—"

"Yes, well, if you'd let me finish you'd have heard me say 'be sure to use terms Uhura and Bones can understand, because you know how we can get and remember that one time Sulu almost accidentally stabbed you with his bread knife?'"

"…I see."

"Well, not that I wouldn't love to hear you two talk about the physics of forking…" McCoy began sarcastically. "But I thought you said you had an early day tomorrow."

"Yes, mom," Jim said with an eye-roll. The glare this earned him made him sigh dramatically. "Sorry. I mean dad."

"Just finish your food and go to bed, Jim," the doctor ordered, glare replaced by a fond exasperation.

"Wait." Uhura was looking over Jim's shoulder and frowned at something behind him. "Can we help you?" she asked coolly just as Jim felt a tentative tap on his back.

"Are you Kirk? Captain Kirk?"

He turned around and met with two unfamiliar officers; a young woman in science blues and a man (a pilot, judging by his insignia) in gold.

"Yes," Jim answered with a touch of reserve. "Is there a problem?"

The gold-clad man stepped forward. "My name is Lucas. Lucas Dalle."

"Uh… okay. Hey Lucas."

Jim exchanged a glance with McCoy and Lucas gave a self-conscious smile. He was slightly on the pudgy side, exactly the kind of person one would describe as 'affable', and seemed nice.

"Yeah, and this is Mara. She's my little sister. We were both very lucky to get stationed at the same Starbase."

"… Okay."

"So, our whole family lives on Earth. And I just wanted to say… this trial thing? It came out on the nets today, about your... uh, with your First Officer…" Fantastic. Jim groaned internally. "…and it sounds pretty stupid to me. I mean what is this, the early twenty-hundreds? Thanks to you, our whole planet survived. You practically saved Humanity."

Oh. Jim felt an uncomfortable flush threatening to redden his cheeks, and fought it furiously. He would never get used to this.

"You're a hero." Lucas turned to Spock. "Although… you must be Mr Spock, right? I'm very sorry about Vulcan."

"I accept that you feel emotionally obligated to convey your sorrow as a way of establishing mutual courtesy."

The pilot blinked. "Right. Anyway, you two… you're both heroes. And I say, well, keep doing what you do because you seem to be doing it great, and, um, my point, somewhere in there…"

"My brother's trying to say 'good luck'," the young female officer interjected. She had a pleasant, throaty voice and long black hair, with glinting eyes to match.

Also, she was gorgeous, Jim thought belatedly, sitting up a little bit straighter.

"And we're not the only ones here who think this is bullshit." Mara kept speaking. "At breakfast this morning, that was rude. I was there and I'm sorry no one offered a table. We're usually a nice bunch, but without knowing the charges… well, you see a guy on trial, you assume it's important, right? You realise he's a Starfleet Captain? Well then, lives are involved. At least, that was what we thought. Not some fucking bureaucratic crap."

Wow, she had a mouth on her, this one.

"So you have our support, was the point. Hang in there."

Jim grinned, something unpleasant and tight in his chest managing to unwind slightly. "Well, I really appreciate that. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Mara smiled brightly at him and Spock, then cocked her head to the side. "And you're very cute, Mr Spock. For the strong, silent type."

"Whoa there, kid," Jim chuckled, more amused than threatened. "Spock's not int—"

"Kid?" She snorted. "I'm twenty-seven. You're… what, two years older than me?"

He could hear Uhura sniggering behind him and McCoy's badly concealed laughter. Spock was perfectly silent.

"Uh, well, I don't… um—"

"Okaaay, time to go, Mara." Lucas smiled apologetically and nodded in acknowledgement to Spock, then tugged his sister's arm.

"See you round, I hope." Mara winked at him.

"Nice meeting you both. And thanks again."

They waved and exited the mess hall.

Jim ran a hand through his hair and exhaled in disbelief. "Well, that was—"

"You have fans!" Uhura exclaimed, unable to hide the glee from her voice. Jim was about to correct her, when he realised she was happily teasing Spock. Not only was this a great sign about the progress of their relationship, but it was something he could totally get behind.

"Yeah Spock… that girl sure seemed to think you were cute. For the strong, silent type."

Spock's eyebrows shot upwards, but he made no comment.

"She was adorable," Uhura continued.

"Seemed smart, too. A scientist. You can do crazy experiments together, eh Spock?" McCoy joined in, apparently unable to resist.

"Yeah! And talk about physics…" Jim pretended to sigh dreamily.

"Argue about logic versus instinct…"

"We may have sufficient time to continue our previous chess-match if you finish your meal within the next ten minutes, Captain," Spock interjected then. No doubt he had surmised a diversion would be needed to sidetrack the attention, and it worked: Jim's smirk was replaced by a smile of pure, beaming joy.

"Really? You want to?"

"I would not be adverse to—"

"You want to! Awesome, let's go!"

x

"Check."

He smiled lazily and leaned back against his chair to watch Spock's next move.

These chess games had begun merely two weeks after Jim took command of the Enterprise; he had seen Spock playing Chekov in the rec room one evening, and immediately felt a spark of excitement at the thought of such a challenge. A mind as razor-sharp and ruthlessly logical as Spock's would provide an incredibly tempting and much-needed distraction to the newly-appointed Captain.

Spock had bested the Russian prodigy with obvious ease and seemed rather smug about it, at least to Jim's eyes at the time, so he'd casually walked over to the pair.

"Hey… can I?"

Cool, assessing eyes and a single nod.

To Spock's utter shock, Jim had won. He remembered that Spock and Uhura were a couple at the time, and her look of grudging respect had been the best thing about the match, with the possible exception of his first officer's instant (and only slightly irritated) request for a repeat. By the end of the third game most of the room had gathered around them and Spock had beaten Jim twice; and so began a strange ritual through which Captain and First Officer measured their strengths and weaknesses and got to know each other better than anyone else.

While the first games were both aggressive and competitive, playing one against the other, they had eventually morphed into something else, something new for both of them, something equally absorbing: playing with each other.

And not in the totally weird way his brain had immediately thought of, good God (although in Jim's brain's defense, it had been pretty long since he'd last... played... something other than solitaire).

But yeah, there was something pretty amazing about needing to use the full force of his intellect just to match his opponent, which Jim had never had to resort to before.

"Checkmate, Captain."

"What?"

He'd seen the possibility, but not calculated such a fast move. "Wow. You're good."

"That adjective is ambiguous. However I suppose you, as a Human, would know how to use it correctly."

"… And modesty failed."

Spock's eyes were smirking at him, and Jim knew he couldn't call him out on it, and that was annoying in a wonderful way.

"You have lost."

"Yes I know, Spock, thank you so much for pointing it out. Again."

"I shall retire to my room now. You require rest." The half-Vulcan stood gracefully (the man did everything with perfect grace, damn gravity differentials) and Jim looked up, just for a moment, and found himself thinking that Spock was horribly, unbearably exhausted. Which was stupid and had no basis in reality because Spock looked just fine.

"Hey, are you…?"

There was an expectant pause.

"Uh, nothing. Forget it." Jim shook his head and forced a smile. "Night."

The half-Vulcan nodded and left through the adjoining door, which hissed shut behind him, leaving Jim all alone.

The moment his First Officer was out of sight Jim felt his earlier troubles returning, as though Spock's presence acted like a soothing drug and lulled him into a false sense of security, making him forget the fear, the suspicions, the dread at what was to come. Even with friendly support, he was terrified that they could lose; something he'd never admit aloud, of course, but…

He sighed and wished Spock would come back. And possibly never leave again.

The chappie is extra-long to make up for the wait! ;)

So, I don't usually (= I never) post stuff about other fandoms on here, but I just felt that this... this needs to be shared. Because you see, slash is lovely and wonderful and TOS has PLENTY of it. But this... is the new BBC mini-series called "Sherlock". And O. M. G. There are three 90-minute episodes, gloriously filled with humour, murder, mystery, intrigue, and SLASH, SO MUCH SLASH! Also Steven Moffat's brilliant writing! If you're bored this August, I would definitely recommend giving it a watch, because I am IN LOVE! :D