This is a bit of a filler chapter, sorry. See you tomorrow. c:

When Jim awoke, he was surrounded by warmth. If filtered through his aching muscles, right down to the bones. His duvet was pushed down at his feet, only the light green blanket rested lightly on his shoulders. It was heavenly. And oh so very warm. Like there was a furnace curled around his back. Or one of those heated marshmallows he saw in that old movie. Except, instead of being soft and squishy, it was firm. And there was something draped around his waist.

A puff of air blew down his neck and Jim's eyes popped open. His bleary gaze took in the walls of his room, the reflection off his computer terminal, the line of his favourite Andorian mystery novels.

Another breath brushed down onto his collarbones, snapping Jim's eyes back to his reflection. Two dark eyes stared back. Jim watched as Spock purposefully blew another breath across his skin, raising goosebumps in its wake.

"'s a little creepy, you know." Jim groaned, pushing his face back into the pillow. There was an itch on the tip of his tongue. Something was wrong.

"The fuck are you doing in my bed?" Jim pushed himself up onto his forearms and turned his face to Spock. The Vulcan held his gaze and looked like he was meant to be there. Like he had some standing invitation. Which, he totally did. Jim had simply never elected to tell him.

"You asked me to stay." Spock said as his eyes continued to flick across Jim's face. "You were... distressed."

Jim took a deep breath. He had to get out of this bedroom and away from Spock. Just long enough for his morning wood to go down. Maybe have a coffee. Wake up his brain a bit before they talked out their differences. He shuffled through his room and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

A few minutes with his head dunked under the faucet later and Jim was ready to face this conversation. He walked into the sitting room and sat on the couch across from Spock.

"No one has ever had a 100% success rate. It is impossible. That is one of the key components of the test." Spock opened the conversation.

"It doesn't have to be that way. We're rewriting it for a reason." Jim leaned forward as he spoke, carried away with his argument. "Between the two of us, barely anyone would be able to figure out how to win."

"You are still missing the point, Jim. The purpose is to experience fear, fear in the face of certain death, to accept that fear and maintain control of one's self and one's crew." Spock sat calmly opposite Jim, hands in his lap.

"Yes Spock, but don't you think that a certain number of cadets know they'll never win? They go in knowing they'll die. They give up. Their lives become meaningless and that, that is the opposite of a Starfleet Captain." Jim took a deep breath, it would do them no good if he lost his temper again. They'd already come further in the last few minutes then they had over the last three weeks.

"I know you choose not to believe in no win scenarios however, the reality is-"

"No, Spock, this is about perspective. My dad died to save over 800 people. He won, Spock. I'm alive. Mum's alive. He won." Jim glared over the coffee table separating them.

"You would die to save your crew and consider that a win?" Spock tilted his head, considering the possibilities. It wasn't even something Jim had thought of. Cadets would still face certain death, whether they 'won' would correspond with the number of lives their sacrifice saved.

Jim beamed across the oak table. Problem solved.