Spreading the Odds

Everyone is looking differently at him and Spock cannot produce a reason as to why.

"They respect you." It is Captain Kirk who reveals the answer. It is the night after battle with the Romulan Bird of Prey and they are engaged in a game of chess in Spock's quarters.

"They did not before?"

Kirk surveys the tri-d board thoughtfully. "It's a different kind of respect. They know you saved Stiles, at great danger to yourself and despite his blatant bigotry."

"It was-"

"Logical." With a chuckle, Kirk moves his knight up a level. "I know. But to us humans it was several other things as well."

The following day, Spock learns the officer who replaced Lt Stiles during his recovery in Sickbay is to become a permanent fixture. Again, the reason why escapes him. He decides it is best not to challenge the Captain there on the Bridge and saves the question for chess that evening, this time in Kirk's quarters.

The mobility of Kirk's eyebrows could challenge Spock's own if he ever devoted any time to it. "You don't approve?"

"I neither approve or disapprove, Captain. I was simply curious as to the logic behind your choice."

It is Kirk's move, but it takes him several long moments to make it.

"Stiles acted in a blatantly xenophobic manner," is his eventual answer as he moves a bishop. "He put the entire ship in danger, not to mention costing a crewman his life."

Spock's eyes fall from a dissection of Kirk's facial expressions to the chessboard. When he speaks, his voice is muted. "Indeed. I had not considered it that way."

They play in silence for a few minutes. It is Kirk who finally interrupts the thoughtful quiet.

"There is something I wanted to ask you. In the phaser room, you..." He hesitates. "You wrote in your report that you rescued Stiles and then Thomlinson?"

"Yes, Captain."

Again Kirk hesitates, before asking, "Why, Spock? No one would have blamed you were it the other way around. The way Stiles acted... And Thomlinson..."

"Thomlinson was engaged to be married today." Spock's eyes flick back to Kirk's. Something stirs there. "Thomlinson was closer to death than Stiles. Saving him first would have spread the probability of survival between both men, but by saving Stiles I had the maximum chance of overall survival."

"But how did you know Thomlinson was closer to death?"

"You know that Vulcans are capable of telepathy?"

Kirk nods. "You can meld your mind to someone else's."

"It is not only that, Captain." The game lies forgotten between them. "Vulcans spend years mastering the art of controlling their telepathy. For their own safety and for that of others. All it took for me to ascertain the conditions of Stiles and Thomlinson, in the most basic sense of life force, was a very light meld."

Kirk's mouth drops open. "You mean to say you were inside Thomlinson's mind when he-"

Spock stands abruptly. "If you will forgive me, Captain, I will have to postpone the remainder of our game."

"Spock I didn't mean to-"

"I simply require meditation," Spock interrupts serenely. "I will see you on shift tomorrow."

Kirk stands, still trying to imagine just how it must feel to experience the death of another in such an intimate way. He reaches out to grasp Spock's shoulder, but given what he has just learnt, he decides against it. Spock notices his hand fall and quirks an inquisitive eyebrow.

Kirk offers a bashful smile and a shrug. "I automatically try to offer comfort in the human way."

He expects Spock to say he doesn't need it, that he is Vulcan, that there is no emotional response. He does not expect the quiet, sincere words, "The effort is appreciated, Jim" with which Spock exits.

Author's Note: Reposted from an old fic which has since been removed.