Title: The Definition of Loyalty
Characters: Kirk, Amanda, (Spock)
Rating: K
Word Count: 2040
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for Journey to Babel; missing scene from after that episode ended.
Summary: During the night after the events of Journey to Babel, Lady Amanda Grayson has a meet-the-parents-esque talk with Captain Kirk.
A/N: No ship but friendship here, but if you want to read it as slash or preslash there is mention of the accursed L word. *gasps of fangirl horror from readers*

Taking a brief break from my two major WIPs because my brain is screaming that it's had enough of both; I know better than to beat a dead horse where my muse is concerned. Will return to my regularly scheduled angst soon. :)

Ship's night was usually a peaceful, soothing time. The lights were dimmed in courtesy to the majority of the ship's crew complement being on a Terran sleep schedule, and as a rule the atmosphere was softer, more subdued. Early ship's night had always been Captain Kirk's favorite time of day, the time when he could hear his ship better than any other, when every thrum and noise from within her powerful walls and chambers reverberated through his being, One with him. No crewman looked surprised anymore, if he encountered the captain ambling the corridors with an easy smile and relaxed air, close to ship's midnight.

But because he was accustomed to being awake during that lovely time of peacefulness, he was now wide awake when the rest of the Sickbay occupants, save the gamma shift watch nurses, were sound asleep.

Sighing, he thumped his too-lumpy pillow in frustration (mentally composing requisitions regarding uncomfortable mattresses and accessories), and then carefully rolled onto his back from his uninjured side. He hated not being in the thick of the action, stuck in Sickbay due to an Orion's lucky aim with a dirty knife, but he hated more the feeling of disconnect with his silver lady. The solitude was pressing in upon him in the darkened ward, the silence more eerie than soothing, and his nerves had been keyed up to a rigid tension even before his injury.

Having refused in no uncertain terms McCoy's offers of heavier painkillers (with the drama aboard at the moment he had to be capable of being alert at a moment's notice), there was no way he was going to be able to fall asleep. And with Spock finally slumbering like a dead man across the room, exhausted from blood depletion, Kirk wasn't about to turn on a light to read or do anything else which might disturb him; he had no idea if Vulcans slept deeply or if those incredibly keen ears would detect the slightest motion.

Kirk huffed into the darkness, the only indication of his feelings, and closed his eyes for the hundredth time in an effort to force his brain into shutting down.

Less than a minute later he nearly jumped out of his skin when the lights on the wall beside his bio-bed suddenly flicked into dim life.

"…What –" he managed, trying to bring his heart rate down before the monitor over his head had a fit and woke up Bones (whom he suspected had wired both him and Spock direct to his cabin monitor).

"I apologize for startling you, Captain Kirk," a voice spoke from his other side, a smile evident in the soft tone. "But your distress has been evident for over two hours now."

"Lady Amanda," he breathed, slumping back onto the pillow for a moment as his back twinged. "You'll forgive me for not getting up when a lady enters, I hope," he added with a small smile, turning all the charm his tired body could muster toward the stately ambassador's wife.

He received a gentle smile in return, as the woman moved around the bed; thoughtfully putting herself into his line of vision so that he need not twist his neck or back to look at her. "I presume you are worried about waking my son, which is why you have not attempted to occupy yourself?"

Kirk nodded, somewhat abashedly. "I'm ashamed to say I don't know enough about Spock to know if he sleeps deeply…or if he sleeps much at all, actually," he added with a frown, for while he had a few times seen the Vulcan meditating he was aware that that was a different function than sleep for Spock's species.

"Vulcans do not require an abundance of sleep, as humans do, to function, as they are able to go without it for days and even weeks if the situation requires," the woman answered, silently moving the chair which McCoy had left nearby. "And therefore when their bodies do finally require it, nothing short of an explosion or telepathic contact can wake them up. Or possibly a glass of ice cubes over the head, so great is their distaste for cold and water," she finished with a small, endearing giggle of obvious private memory. "You would have to set off a siren next to Spock's ear to wake him right now, Captain. It is not dissimilar to a healing trance, the depth of sleep when exhaustion requires it."

He was glad for the company and said so, as the woman settled gracefully into the chair beside his bed. "Then I thank you for rescuing me, ma'am."

"Now, none of that, Captain," she returned, gently chiding. "I grant you I am old enough to be your mother as well, but you needn't make me feel it."

"Would I be too forward in asking you to consider adoption?" he asked, flashing a brilliant grin.

Amanda Grayson's laugh was delicate and beautiful, just like the rest of her; Kirk could see how and why she had touched the well-hidden heart of a Vulcan.

"I daresay my husband would have something to say about being outnumbered in his own household, Captain."

"Pity," he observed mournfully. Then, shifting slightly as his back twinged, he looked up. "How is he, by the way?"

"Resting comfortably," the lady replied cheerfully. "Your Dr. McCoy's bedside manner was, I rather think, far more of a shock to Sarek than his heart trouble."

He chuckled. "Yes, Bones is something of a culture shock to everyone, even humans." Fondness tinged his tone with evident affection. "I don't know what we'd do without him."

"Certainly we would have lost one or the other of them today, and possibly you as well," was the quiet reply, as the ambassador's wife looked across the ward at her sleeping son. "For that, he and you both will always have my gratitude, Captain. I am not without diplomatic connections myself; and whether Sarek gets over his preposterous obstinacy or not I will always be happy to help you if I am capable."

"Thank you," he said simply. If he was to continue a conversation with courtesy, he would need to sit up at some point, and so he shifted, trying to reach the remote controls on the side of the bed which would incline the head.

Pain lanced, white-hot, through his still-healing lung, setting off a dangerous coughing fit which sent him curling onto his uninjured side, gasping embarrassingly for breath. A small hand on his back steadied him, while he felt the bed incline underneath his heaving frame and heard the sensor alarm over his head be switched off manually. He vaguely nodded his thanks for the sensible and unpanicked aid, drawing a deep breath as the elevation helped to steady his struggling lungs. Slowly the clenching sensation in his chest eased, and he slumped back on the pillow, eyes streaming.

"Were I Vulcan, Captain, I should remind you of Dr. McCoy's instructions and reiterate the illogicality of your precipitous actions," Amanda's voice sounded over his head. A cool hand brushed his limp hair out of his eyes in a gesture so tender he was glad they were already watering from the pain. "However, I am human, so we will go with what in heaven's name did you think you were doing, young man?"

His laugh sounded more like a wrenched sob. "I think I love you," he murmured, smiling through vision he was blinking to clear.

Amanda shot him a look which clearly said she was quite aware of any charm he was trying to work on her. "I might believe you if you weren't a bit biased already," she replied, setting a glass of water next to the bed. Kirk was extremely appreciative that she had the tact to not offer to help him drink it, and that she'd had the foresight to dissolve his next dosage of painkillers into it. "I think you'd adore Sarek if he'd let you, just by extension."

He choked on the water, nearly spraying it back into the glass.

Beautiful eyes looked at him knowingly. "Honestly, all men are alike, Vulcan or human, in regards to avoiding talking about 'feelings,'" she said with evident amusement. "I am not implying you wish to, shall we say, take T'Pring's place in Spock's life, Captain; merely that you have been an extraordinary influence upon him, and not in the capacity of captain versus first officer."

He was pretty sure that blushing in front of an ambassador's wife was gauche, but it wasn't like he could really help it.

"Your son has been…an incredible asset to me, both in the capacity of First Officer and as a…as a friend," he finally managed to say with appropriate sincerity. "I honestly have no idea how I could have ever entertained the idea of having Gary Mitchell, God rest his soul, as my First and not Spock. It's…almost like the idea's just…universally wrong, I suppose." He thought for a moment before continuing with a sad, nostalgic smile. "A very wise person once told me that it was as if he's always been by my side and always will be – and that's exactly how it feels. I would be…completely lost, inside and out, without him."

He swallowed, but wanted this exceptional woman who could love a Vulcan – two of them – to hear the emotional truth which she most likely never would hear, in the worlds in which she moved. "People wonder how I can be such a successful and confident starship captain; the answer is simple." His eyes flicked briefly over to the sleeping figure across the room, softening at the sight. "Loyalty means telling someone that their stupidity is about to throw them straight off a cliff – and then following them off that cliff anyway. And that's exactly what I know I've been given. I don't need Starfleet or anyone else's approval or moral support – because I have his."

Amanda Grayson did not appear to be surprised by the admission. She looked down at him fondly. "I knew from the third week of your assuming captaincy of the Enterprisethat you were going to be someone special in Spock's life," she said quietly.

Rubbing his eyes, he frowned. "Maternal instinct?" he inquired curiously, not bothering to deny or divert the statement.

She laughed. "Nothing so esoteric."

"What, then?"

"In fourteen years of service in Starfleet, Spock had never before referred to any human by anything other than that person's title," she replied simply. "I knew then that I would someday need to find out who this 'Jim' person was that was gradually edging his way into the majority of my son's correspondence content."

If he hadn't been growing so sleepy, he would have blushed again. As it was, between the lateness of the hour and the warmth pooling happily inside him at the kind words, he was only seconds away from embarrassing himself with a very rude yawn.

Luckily, Lady Amanda saw this, and stood with a smile. "You appear to be more relaxed, Captain; I will not impose upon your rest period further."

"You can stay," he protested drowsily, eyelids fluttering.

The woman smiled down at him, taking the liberty of untangling the blanket from under his arm and placing it in its proper position. "You need your rest, Captain."

"Okay," he murmured half into the pillow, belatedly realizing that the painkillers must be taking effect more quickly than he'd anticipated; that was hardly professional.

Luckily the ambassador's wife only seemed amused by his sleepiness, dimming the lights over his head and then making her way across the ward toward Sarek's room.

"Oh, and Captain," she called back softly.

"Yes, ma'am?" he managed to wake himself up enough to ask.

"I said that Vulcans sleep extremely deeply." A mischievous smile formed and filtered through the darkness toward him; he felt it rather than saw it. "I said nothing about half-Vulcans."

And she disappeared into the shadows of Sarek's room.

Wide-eyed, he stared at the ceiling in dismay, praying that he was wrong.

"Um…Spock? You really awake?"

Silence.

"…Affirmative."

He swore softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So you heard everything."

"Affirmative."

"Your mom is just evil."

"Affirmative."