Veritas

Chapter Eight: Quid Est Veritas?

Jim's Starbase quarters looked quite crowded, despite their generous size, after the others had all piled inside.

When he had gotten his captaincy he'd had his doubts about being able to become friends with his crew... but now, apparently, bed-rest didn't mean being alone, for which Jim's heartstrings got a considerable tug.

"... and so I guess the Prime Directive was, by that point, mostly shot to tell, and they had a hard enough time trying to control the situation without the Klingons interfering," Uhura was saying thoughtfully. She had gracefully draped herself around the largest and most comfortable couch; something none of the guys had seen fit to try and argue about.

"I have to confess I haven't been very up-to-date with the news, lately," Jim cut in then, to grateful looks from Sulu and Scotty, who hadn't heard about this particular incident either.

It wasn't because of the trial that he was avoiding the media. It wasn't even a very deliberate avoidance... but ever since Nero surfing the nets had become a sometimes disturbing, often embarrassing experience; he was featured in them so often. "Was this related to the Midas' sabotaged warp-capabilities last month?"

"Oh no, this 'appened some time before that," Chekov explained with a frown. "Same ship, different dilemma. Although I was wery sorry to hear such a waluable wessel was destroyed."

"Aye, she was a lovely thing. Old but solid, ye know? Well-built. Resistant."

There was a collective eye-roll at Scotty's comment, which of course related solely to the ship despite the fact that many people could have been hurt (even though they weren't, thanks to the emergency services and a well-timed rescue. If they had, Jim knew the engineer would never have said it, of course).

"A significant loss for Starfleet, certainly, and not one which portrayed them well in the public eye, I believe," Spock contributed. It was at this point that a contemplative silence stole over the room, but it was soon broken.

"So hey... does anyone here know how to replicate ice-cream?" Jim asked innocently.

"Aye, I can help," Scotty said with a wink. "Strawberry?"

"Isn't there some sort of rule about men not being able to eat things that are pink?"

"Hey, I love strawberry ice cream!" Sulu protested.

"Chocolate then, Captain?"

"Excellent choice, Scotty!"

Uhura craned her neck up to Spock, who was sitting on the chair next to her with a straight back and perfectly positioned limbs.

"He's like a fierce little baby-sehlat sometimes, isn't he?"

Jim was about to complain loudly when he realised she'd spoken in Vulcan, obviously not intending for anyone else to understand her words. He wasn't exactly fluent or anything, but he'd been trying to learn (and getting pretty good at it lately, if he said so himself). For instance, he knew that a sehlat was an almost-extinct creature that had lived on Old Vulcan, and that it looked mostly like an enormous teddy-bear with six-inch fangs. Except that baby sehlats didn't have those yet, and so basically Uhura had just called him a cute stuffed animal.

The nerve of some people.

Spock calmly glanced her way and then forward again. "That is what he wishes you to believe. He wishes to be underestimated—"

"Oh I know that. Doesn't mean he's not adorable while he does it though, even if the kan-bu knows he is."

Kan-bu meant 'baby'. The extent of Jim's seething humiliation was now infinite.

Spock switched back to Standard to say: "I have no comment on the matter."

The other occupants were staring at the pair with confused or puzzled expressions, and there was an expectant pause during which Jim had to resist the urge to yell at Uhura that he completely resented the fact that she'd called him so many fluffy names to his first officer, of all people.

"Hey, we should have some fun."

This wasn't said by Jim, although he could totally get behind the sentiment of Sulu's words.

"May I remind you that the Captain cannot be moved from the bed where he lies."

Uhura rolled her eyes and stretched. "Come on, Spock. Sulu knows that."

Sulu nodded vigorously. "Of course I do! I just meant... Jim can stay there, but we should... oh I don't know. Actually, do you think they'd let us help out with the repairs and stuff?"

"Probably not." Jim shook his head. "But you guys should go. I mean... you don't need to stay here and hold my hand or anything. I'm a big boy, I think I can handle lying on a bed and doing nothing," he added the last part with a grin that was only slightly forced.

"Really? I'd think that was the exact opposite of the sort of thing you're capable of handling, Captain," Sulu smirked, so obviously Jim threw his pillow at him.

Unfortunately, the gesture pulled at his muscles and he couldn't hide a tiny wince of pain, which extracted loud groans from the entire room and had Spock on his feet instantly, irradiating disapproval in a way that he had perfected over time (which consisted of an indirectly relative proportion between the amount of expression on his face and the amount of you-are-so-stupid-it-amazes-me-sometimes that got across).

"Sorry?" Jim tried with a sheepish smile and his best blue-eyed look, which at least seemed to mollify everyone except Spock, who sat back down with slightly narrowed eyes. Eyes that remained glued to Jim for the remainder of the evening, cataloguing his every inappropriate move; an exhausting experience, as it would turn out.

And Sulu kept the pillow. Bastard.

"We can hang out here," Uhura declared, so that it sounded like a suggestion but really, when they weren't on the ship Jim was man enough to know that being the Captain didn't necessarily count.

And in the end that was exactly what they did. Talking quietly, teasing Spock about his fans again and how the Superman stunt he'd pulled would only increase said popularity... it was nice. Jim may have had a couple more painful reminders of his injury whenever he gesticulated to express himself, but it was... very nice. They should do this more often, he thought wistfully.

Minus the blowing up and consequently almost dying, of course.

x

"Pass the sealing gun?" Jim muttered to an Ensign without looking away from the mess of wires he was working with.

"The wha-? Um, what does it look like exactly, sir?"

"It's long and green..."

There was maybe a moment during which he almost thought something very strange indeed, but then it passed and obviously he hadn't thought about it at all because life couldn't possibly be that cruel or twisted.

Right?

Jim shook his head like a dog and cleared it, then went back to the task at hand.

It turned out that there had been a minor surge in the Main Control room that had caused some equipment damage, which had in turn caused the power lines from the circuit that ran to Deck 14 to overload. Scotty and his team had asked to be a part of the investigation and thankfully Commodore Emerett had been smart enough to let them.

The reason Jim was also perched above a staircase squinting up at the tubes from an auxiliary panel was that he really, really sucked at being stuck in his room with nothing to do. True to his word he had remained in bed for that entire day and night (which was yesterday), but the prospect of yet another morning without any work had proved a bit much for him. Moss was meeting them after lunch, which was all good and well, but he was bored out of his mind by eight thirty, so without telling Spock he'd happily informed Scotty that he was going to be helping them out.

"Yup, that's the one. Now set it for a low charge… say, two point five—"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Oh no.

It wasn't Dr McCoy, but…

"Please calm down Nurse Chapel, it's not like… um…"

"Not like what? Not like you're dangling from the ceiling without a harness? Not like you're working even though you're a Starship Captain and not an engineer? Oh I'm sorry, and I forgot: not like you're supposed to be resting?"

Jim began climbing down the steps to the corridor below, where passing officers were shooting Nurse Chapel strange looks. She could be a very scary lady.

"But you won't tell Bones?"

She glared at him. "I don't want him to die, no."

"Thanks. Because I'm feeling great, actually." This was totally true; he'd tried stretching a little and everything felt fine.

Chapel threw her hands up in exasperation (seriously, people in the medical profession had a serious problem; drama queens the lot of them).

"What is so important that you can't just watch a holo-vid or something?" she asked.

"Just saving lives, the usual." Jim gave her his patented grin and pointed to the ceiling. "See there? The circuit is totally fucked unless they add more heat-disperser materials between wires. I was talking to Scotty earlier and he says it's not a great design, and I agree, because they tried to bypass the relay overlap… uh, basically it means they wanted to boost the power but didn't compensate for it accordingly, which definitely seems to have affected the cooling mechanisms. Thing is, if the system had- what are you doing?"

She had taken out a medical tricorder and was scanning him.

"Lift your shirt, please."

Jim complied patiently and gestured at the Ensign who'd been helping him. He was almost sure the guy's name was…

"Mr Gray?"

"Yeah?" The huge grin he got in response told him he'd gotten it right. "I mean, yes sir?"

"Why don't you go ask Mr Scott what else you can do to help? He'll be in Main the Deck below with Chief Engineer Roberts, I'm almost done here."

"Yes sir!"

He left hurriedly and Jim looked down at Chapel, who was squinting at his abs and frowning. When he offered her another conciliatory smile she rolled her eyes at him.

"Why do people like you so much when you insist on being irresponsible whenever your own health is concerned?"

Jim pretended to shrug non-chalantly.

"I am deceptively charming."

"I am deceived," Chapel deadpanned. This made him laugh out loud, and her eyes crinkled prettily at the corners as she lifted his shirt even further up, then ran the scanner over him again. "Anyway, it's not like—"

"Captain."

Jim whirled around so fast that he accidentally knocked the tricorder right out of the nurse's hand. It clattered on the floor.

"Oops! Sorry Christine…"

"It's fine, I've got it."

"No, it's my bad…"

"Good morning," Spock said behind him. Jim felt his cheeks heat and turned more slowly, trying to school his features into his most beautifully innocent expression. The Vulcan was eyeing his shirt which, Jim realised belatedly, he was still holding up to his armpits, thus giving everyone in the vicinity a pretty show that went from his pecs all the way down to the sliver of dark blue underwear peeking over hip-hugging black trousers.

Inadvertently coming on to his first officer before breakfast, check.

"Morning there, Spock!"

He promptly let the black fabric slide down his exposed skin and attempted to straighten it whilst retaining any remaining vestiges of his long-lost dignity. "Uh… what's up?"

Spock ignored this question. "Were you performing physical activities, Jim?"

"I…"

"Yes," Chapel cut in, and Jim felt utterly betrayed and shot her a look of profound hurt.

"I was sitting," he clarified to Spock.

"On a stair. Near the ceiling," Chapel added sweetly.

"Please stop talking."

"He was helping the engineers."

Jim groaned. "Seriously Christine, the talking thing is not attractive."

Spock's stare could have solidified nitrogen. "Jim, I suggest you refrain from attempting to… I believe the correct term is 'cushion' the situation?"

"That's quite right, Mr Sp—"

The look she got from her Captain finally made Chapel do the 'zip' motion over her mouth and she started to walk away.

"I'm going to the Hospital Bay and I'd better see you there today before dinner."

"Yeah yeah, Bones already made me promise."

Before rounding the corner she waved at him and shouted: "You're healing fine, by the way, no thanks to yourself!"

"Go away!"

Jim's eyes flicked back to Spock.

"Pleas spare me the—"

"I believe your exact words yesterday were 'I think I can handle lying on a bed and doing nothing.' Clearly you overestimate your own abilities, Captain."

Jim waited a few seconds before answering, but his tone was affectionately teasing. "Okay, now you've got that out of your system. Feel better? Wanna walk me back to my quarters and make sure I stay put?"

Spock's eyes slid away from his and to the floor. "That would be acceptable."

Jim laughed, having not expected this outcome at all. "Cool. Because I have a couple of questions for you."

"I see."

They started walking in sync in the opposite direction to the nearest turbolift.

"Yup. First off, and I'm sorry it took so long but I've been meaning to ask… did it go okay with your dad yesterday morning?"

Spock blinked twice before answering, which told Jim plenty before the man had even actually spoken.

"He expressed his opinion as… disappointed."

Jim opened his mouth to express his own (loud and indignant) opinion but Spock anticipated him. "With Starfleet. He declared his disappointment with the administration and the admiralty in particular. He was, in fact, rather… sympathetic of our cause."

"Really?" Spock had just used the word 'sympathetic'? When referring to his father? "That's awesome. I mean, that he can help."

"You are mistaken; his position as Earth ambassador does not offer any legal grounds for assistance in my defence…" Jim was shaking his head. "Your meaning was figurative."

"Sort of. Yeah. I already figured the council might not be able to position themselves as, you know, 'officially' with you, or whatever, but your dad… that's great. I'm happy for you."

They arrived at another turbolift and stopped to wait with two other officers who kept shooting them nervous glances. Jim, who found he was actually kind of learning to be okay with this in spite of himself, gave Spock a sideways grin.

To his surprise, when he looked at Spock in this light, he realised that there was a slight hint of shadow on his jaw. Did Spock shave? Why did that mental image refuse to come to his mind? Good God, what would Spock with a beard look like?

"May I inquire as to the source of your amusement, Jim?" Spock asked curiously. There was a cheerful 'ping' and the doors opened, expelling everyone onto the Deck before the pair could go inside a now-empty lift, and all the while Jim was unable to stop laughing.

"It's... you... facial hair... the universe...!" He gasped, clutching his side.

Spock arched an eyebrow and turned his head slightly to the side, which Jim interpreted as his 'I'm amused, under all this apparent exasperation, with your general person.'

"When you laugh you produce 'dimples.'"

They both froze at the exact same time and Jim realized only now that the other two people waiting for the lift had totally chickened out and not gone in with them.

"..." said Jim, staring straight ahead at the gleaming white curve of the wall-panel. He then tried to decide whether he should just go ahead and pretend he hadn't heard what he thought he'd heard, which was a silly thought because it had been a perfectly legitimate point, of course, the observation Spock had made.

"They are a Human characteristic," Spock added after the silence had threatened to morph into this awful, horrible presence in the lift with them.

"... Yes," Jim agreed.

Neither was looking at the other, instead both faced straight ahead, and when Spock didn't elaborate and the doors opened, the subject was blissfully dropped and mostly forgotten. Mostly.

"You stated there were two inquiries I was to answer," Spock reminded him, and nothing in his expression suggested anything rather unnerving had happened at all just seconds ago.

"Oh. Right. Yeah!" Jim decided to go along with this plan and led the way down the busy corridor to their quarters. "Now that we know Areel is the prosecutor... care to tell me how you managed to get that handy list from her computer without even knowing her name?" He dropped his voice to a low mutter which he knew Spock could hear.

"I did not obtain such information directly from her computer, Captain, as I did not know she was the one who had elaborated it." It was necessary for Spock to move in a bit closer to whisper this in Jim's ear, of course, because Jim did not have super hearing. "The file was located in the prosecution's memory banks."

"Areel is the prosecutor."

"She does not work alone, Jim. I traced the original list as a message from Starfleet Command to her department; that is the version Mr Moss possesses as well, as do the judges and jury involved in the trial. Remember, the list is part of the charges against us, and—"

"Filed as evidence, yes, I know. They all have access to it."

Spock leaned in even closer and dropped his voice so that it was both deeper and softer.

"I then made a copy of the document as modified by the prosecutor to ascertain the... gravity of our situation."

The Vulcan's breath was hot like steam rolling down Jim's back, and it made his skin go all tingly.

"I believe you are familiar with the conclusive events," Spock murmured.

Phew. It was really hot in here, now that he thought about it. Jim's stomach did a weird lurch/jolt thing and he wondered whether he was about to be sick, but discarded that notion moments later as they finally reached their respective doors.

To put some distance between them, Jim leaned against the wall and waggled a finger playfully at Spock. "Bad Vulcan."

Spock's eyes didn't roll, precisely, but it was a near thing.

"Please enter your quarters Jim, I believe you required rest."

He decided that resting might not, in fact, be the worst idea. He felt a bit... feverish.

"Wanna come with?" he offered.

"I cannot. I have a previous engagement."

"Oh?"

"Mara Dalle has agreed to assist me in the demonstration of an experiment."

"Oh."

Punching in the code to his room with a bit more vigor than was necessary, Jim forced a smile. "Well then, you two have fun."

Of course, only yesterday Jim had decided to be totally cool around Spock. He would remember to distance himself and learn to need him less. So Spock was going to the science department without him? Awesome. Jim was so cool with that that he was, like, cold. And hey, obviously Spock wouldn't go alone even though the damn git was smart enough to figure everything out for himself and so obviously Mara just had to go with him.

Because it was necessary for all science officers to be pale and dark-haired and ridiculously attractive, right?

"Thank you, Captain. I theorize that it shall be a most interesting experience."

"Totally."

Stupid Spock and his stupid fellow scientist and their stupid experiments in their stupid lab.

"I shall see you at Mr Moss' office this evening."

"You definitely shall!"

Spock didn't come with an in-built sarcasm-detector, but that didn't mean he could see straight through Jim's bullshit approximately 98.84937598 percent of the time (what? Those were perfectly accurate odds!).

Still, this time he didn't comment of his Captain's strange behaviour.

"Shortly before the power surge occurred he informed me that today we would be testing your answers with the Veritas device."

At this Jim's murderous train of thought was derailed and his head snapped around in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes. It is standard procedure in a court of law."

He knew that. "I knew that." The 'Veritas device' was really a very fancy way of saying 'lie-detector.' "Well, thanks for the warning. I'll see you later then."

"Goodbye, Captain."

Spock started walking back to the turbolift, his long legs eating up the space, and Jim fantasised about the past when doors could be slammed. It must have been so satisfying.

He strode over to his bed and crashed on it, luxuriating in the feel of his muscles stretching without any pain.

Because the lie-detector only worked on certain species (Vulcans, for example, were immune) there had been several attempts to ban it from court since it's discovery, and subsequent proven effectivity, fifty years ago. Jim found himself wishing someone had succeeded, because... because...

Because...?

He sat up in the bed suddenly, chest heaving in shallow breaths.

Wait. He wasn't planning on lying. Was he?

What?

He and Spock were just friends. There was nothing to fear, he was defending himself by telling the truth.

Right?

It wasn't like he'd recently been avoiding thinking about the fact that he might just be attracted to Spock, so then why had he...?

Oh.

Oh no.

8 chapters! I lasted 8 chapters before Jim's libido was like HEY LOOK AT SPOCK!

*is proud* :D