Chapter Text
Spock freezes at the door, blinking once slowly as he takes in the scene.
The Athos people believe in communal bathing, and while he is not body shy, neither does he wish to comingle with such a tactile species when he is naked and unable to politely keep unwanted touches to a minimum. He has calculated the time with the highest probability of minimizing the presence of other inhabitants, and thus he is surprised to find the Captain utilizing the bathing facilities.
Captain Kirk is under one of the numerous showerheads lining the wall, and as Spock had surmised, there are only three other occupants in the large chamber, all of whom are engaged in their ablutionary rituals. Unlike Kirk, they have taken adjacent stalls and are washing each other.
Spock watches as the Captain stands quietly under the spray, and he finds it oddly difficult to look away. He has never seen the other man be so . . . still. Even when the Captain is on the Bridge, he is in constant motion, jiggling his leg or tapping his fingers or bantering with the crew to pass the time. There is always the sense of contained energy, waiting to explode forth at the least provocation, and he fills and overflows the position of Captain of the Enterprise, flagship of Starfleet’s armada.
Here, he is somehow both less and more, not just a symbol of his authority, even as it is obvious who he is against the backdrop of the Athosians’ chartreuse skin and pale blue hair, yet eluding the classification of being a mere man, graced with a bearing and dignity that Spock would never have attributed to him before this.
The Captain displays neither discomfort nor concern with his state of nakedness, apparently lost in whatever he sees behind his closed eyes. Without the typical brash arrogance adorning his face, he looks young, although not innocent, somber, but not sad. He looks . . . different in a way that Spock is at a loss to explain.
He has never seen this side of the Captain. He had not realized it existed.
Spock is pulled from his reverie as the Captain moves and opens his eyes, passing over Spock’s robed form before darting back to his face. They stare at each other for three point two seconds before the Captain’s eyes close and he turns his back to Spock.
Deciding to forgo bathing for the time being, Spock returns to his room, feeling strangely bereft.
The door to the bedroom he was directed to earlier that evening slides shut with a quiet sigh. The small room is sparsely decorated with a functional table and chair against one wall, and a narrow cot against the other. A large, glassless window, open to the hot Athosian air, looks out over gardens below.
Once inside his room Spock hesitates, undecided whether to meditate or sleep. After a few seconds, he opts to do neither, the image of his captain bathing still at the forefront of his consciousness. What he requires is a period of reflection to analyze his atypical reaction, and kneels on the floor in preparation.
Spock believes he knows the captain better than most on the ship. He acknowledged on their very first meeting, that Kirk is aesthetically appealing, a fine specimen of the Human race, in peak physical fitness, with well-proportioned facial features and bright blue eyes—a package he knows, from experience, are attractive to many of the races with which the Enterprise comes into contact. He, himself, he conceded early on in their acquaintance, is not immune, though he brushed off the notion as irrelevant.
Kirk’s degree of intelligence is almost unmatched among Terrans, a child prodigy whose incredible intellect kept him alienated from his peers, a troubled misfit who grew up to become a rebellious genius with anger management issues and no real family ties to anchor him. Spock read Cadet Kirk’s personnel file immediately prior to the Kobayashi Maru inquiry. Even then, he grudgingly recognized some of the attributes of the young Kirk in himself, though he discounted it as a mildly-interesting coincidence and thought no more of it.
In the months since, he has seen that brain power turn disastrous missions into victories time and again through a combination of stealth, tactics and illogical intuitive leaps that would likely see him rewrite the entire StarFleet Captain’s manual by the end of their five year mission. In short, his command thus far has been nothing less than admirable. Neither has Kirk confined this ability to their missions—his prowess is just as devastatingly effective on the chess board on the few occasions they played together—at Kirk’s instigation—in the rec room. He would never admit it to anyone, but Spock recognized early on that he could have a lot to learn from this contradictory man, though he’s never taken the steps to do it.
In a moment of epiphany, he realizes that on different levels he admires Kirk, but for months has been in denial about it. Now, a shift has taken place within, as though he has been staring at a piece of art and suddenly notices that what looked to be a set of abstract patterns has coalesced to form a recognizable image.
Added to this new self-knowledge is the fact that until now, all of his understanding of Kirk is a matter for the record: data that can be gleaned from personnel files and mission reports. However, this evening, he perceived something of his captain that goes beyond his physical and intellectual characteristics, something less tangible, an indefinable presence that he seemed to exude. It is as though in shedding his clothing, he discarded his public persona, the James T. Kirk he shows to the world. Gone was the nervous energy, to be replaced by a serenity and a centeredness he never would have believed his captain capable of had he not seen it for himself.
This shift in his awareness, he is beginning to understand, is not only in his perception of this evidently complex Human. For the first time in their 9.4 month acquaintance, he feels drawn to him; not as a colleague, nor a friend. When he adds the mental agility and the physical attributes to the quiet, centered energy he experienced earlier, he can draw but one conclusion. Jim Kirk would make an ideal mate.
Fascinating.
Having knowledge and acting on it are two entirely different matters, however.
While his relationship with the captain has not been contentious for the most part, neither would Spock say it is without its challenges. Respect has grown between them, and although Spock does not always understand why Kirk chooses the methods he does, nor always agree with the outcome—he is never deterred from pointing out, quite strongly when the occasion demands, fallacies in Captain’s Kirk logic—he would never argue that the captain’s motivation is at fault.
Spock is aware his questioning frustrates his captain, although it is a Human shortcoming to take offense at such times, perceiving insult where none is intended. Nonetheless, it is Spock’s duty as first officer to offer his suggestions, solicited or not, correct or not. He freely admits there have been many instances when the captain’s course of action was the appropriate choice. Conversely, the opposite is true as well. Spock’s intervention has saved situations when the captain’s rashness would have led them astray. Professionally, they are learning to balance each other’s strengths and weaknesses.
The same cannot be said of their lives off-duty.
Although Spock has attempted to keep his personal affairs separate from his responsibilities, he acknowledges that he has not been wholly successful. Immediately after the destruction of the Narada, the captain made several attempts to befriend him, which Spock could neither fully appreciate nor reciprocate at the time. It was due, in part, to his brief liaison with Lieutenant Uhura, his focus on her and her initial antipathy for their captain. Their relationship offered a measure of comfort that he is grateful for to this day, however, five point five seven months after leaving Earth, they both acknowledged they are not romantically suited to one another and have since reverted back to their former friendship.
Now, nine point four months since the commencement of the five year mission, Spock finds he . . . regrets the opportunity lost. The captain, although courteous in his rough fashion, has not made another attempt to reach out to him in two point one months, and Spock finds himself at a loss as to how to rectify the situation now, especially with this new perception to motivate him.
While enjoyment is an emotion that Spock would studiously deny experiencing, he would certainly derive a degree of satisfaction in getting to know the captain better since it would go some way to sating his new-found curiosity regarding this enigmatic Human. The question is how to go about doing so. Certainly with the Holidays season almost upon them, there will be an increase in the number of social events on board at which he may encounter and engage with the captain while off-duty without it appearing contrived. In addition, they are scheduled shoreleave at Starbase 82 on Christmas Day. However, he also knows he will be one among many vying for Kirk’s attention, especially McCoy, who guards their friendship jealously.
Spock concludes that this mission presents the ideal opportunity to make amends, since the Enterprise has departed on a routine supply run to several Federation outposts in the sector. When not in meetings or other diplomatic functions, there will be ample free time in which to engage his captain without the usual interruptions and burden of duty that come with commanding a starship.
A light tap at his door brings Spock out of his ruminations and, rising gracefully from the floor, it is with a degree of inquisitiveness that he walks across the chamber, wondering who would pay him a visit at this late hour. Touching a plate on the wall, the door glides open to reveal his captain wearing an odd expression on his face. He is, thankfully, now fully clothed, although Spock is unable to prevent his eidetic memory reminding him what the athletic body beneath his captain’s uniform looks like. He bats the inappropriate thought away and assuming his usual air of quiet professionalism, focuses his attention on his commanding officer and the reason for his visit.
“Captain, how may I be of assistance?”
“I didn’t interrupt anything did I? I was worried you might have already hit the sack.” Kirk runs his fingers through his hair, a gesture Spock has come to associate in his captain with a degree of nervousness, the earlier serenity clearly no longer in evidence. Spock stands to one side, allowing him entry.
“Even if the Athosians had furnished me with a burlap bag, I am uncertain why you might believe I would wish to strike it.” This game between him and his commanding officer almost invariably elicits a smile, as it does now. The comment, Spock notes, also has the desired effect, lessening Kirk’s apparent tension to a small degree. He notices Kirk doesn’t attempt to explain the odd phrase, as many of his other colleagues do—particularly McCoy, often to his captain’s amusement.
“I couldn’t sleep,” the captain begins.
This information isn’t surprising to Spock as, despite the late hour at this location on the planet, it is still early evening, ship’s time, and since they arrived only a few hours earlier, Kirk has not had sufficiently long enough to synchronize his circadian rhythm to the local time. “So I’ve been reading the cultural brief.”
At this, he exhibits an expression that Spock recognizes, one the doctor has referred to in the past as ‘sheepish’. Spock is aware that his captain’s preferred learning style is less theory and more action-oriented. To accommodate this, he began early on in their working relationship to arrange meetings prior to each mission, at which he provided his commander with a condensed version of the brief for him to peruse and answer questions as they arose from his reading. He finds it an efficient strategy as, this way, Kirk doesn’t get overwhelmed by the minutia of unnecessary detail. He quickly came to realize that it is not that Kirk cannot retain such detail—he is more than capable of doing so given he has an almost photographic memory—it is merely that his captain’s attention span wanes considerably when he is not motivated.
“The day after tomorrow is ‘Bahari’ which, as far as I can figure, is like their weekend.”
“I am aware,” Spock concurs. It is more than that—a day specifically put aside for family, friends and leisure.
“So that means no meetings with the Athosian diplomatic team. I had thought about doing some Christmas shopping—I’m a bit behind with it. But their online malls have a good choice of stuff I can look at some time before we leave. So I was wondering if you’ve got any ideas of things we’ll be able to do with our free time.”
Kirk is aware that Spock would have made a thorough study of the Athosians, which would include typical leisure-time activities. However, while he knew the day off was imminent, he had given no thought as to how he might spend the time. As his captain has noticed, with the Enterprise away, they are planet bound for the duration of the talks. Typically, on the rare occasions when the opportunity has arisen to spend a day uninterrupted by duty considerations, he has passed the time in deep meditation.
He considers Kirk’s question and realizes there is a degree of ambiguity in it, since it is unclear whether his captain simply wishes for a list of potential options, or whether he is suggesting they spend the day together. It is possible he means the latter, as this is the first time they have been alone on a mission, and Kirk has no other for company in his free time. This, Spock realizes, could play to his advantage.
“I am not averse to spending the time with you, Captain, perhaps touring the city and investigating their cultural institutions.”
Kirk lifting his eyebrows and widening his eyes is indicative of surprise, and suggests to Spock that his captain was simply requesting options.
“Uh . . .” A smile spreads across Kirk’s face and, leaning forward, he slaps Spock’s upper arm in what the Vulcan has come to recognize as a gesture of camaraderie. “Cool. It’s a date.”
Spock does not understand how four simple words can create such a marked increase in his heart rate, but it is nonetheless true. The physiological effect is easily rectified, but he is taken aback by its occurrence and all that it implies. Outwardly, he merely raises an eyebrow at the unorthodox suggestion, which elicits a grin in response. The captains eyes, he acknowledges, are most appealing when he smiles.
“Catch you later, Spock.” With that, he abruptly turns and leaves.
Pushing his internal reaction aside for future meditation, Spock sits at the small table in his room that doubles as a desk and dining table. It appears the probability that Kirk may procure him a Christmas gift for the upcoming Terran festival has just risen to seventy nine point four percent, so he will need to have one to hand in order to reciprocate. He will peruse the online selection later. For now, he will search through his PADD for suitable activities for his captain. While he knows Kirk has a preference for spontaneity, he does not want to be unprepared.
Spock considers the Athosians a prime example to support the theory that many worlds throughout the known galaxy were deliberately seeded with humanoid lifeforms by an ancient space-faring civilization, including those of all the founding members of the United Federation of Planets. Besides their unique coloring the Athosians, he notes, are exceedingly similar to the Humans of Earth. Their Ambassador to the Federation, Eilly Tressat, has promised to furnish his science department with DNA samples so that further analysis of their roots can be determined.
Spock has noticed that a number of aspects of their culture are reminiscent of that of Earth’s ancient early Roman hegemony. Their political structure is close to that of the era of the republic, with senior politicians selected from the ruling noble class. They praise literature and the arts, while simultaneously revering shows of strength and athletic prowess. They are also polytheistic, with temples dedicated to their various gods prevalent in all the planet’s urban conurbations. Athos, Spock was interested to discover, is the name given to the ruler of their gods, the god of sun who they believe presides over all their lives. Athos in the standard language of their people literally means light.
It is one of the temples that attracts Spock’s eye. It is dedicated to the god Argene, patron of science, and houses one of the largest museums in the Athosian’s premier city where they are currently located, as well as one of the planet’s most distinguished academies.
Argene, apparently, espouses that soundness of mind must be matched by soundness of body, and anyone who wishes to apply for study must first surmount several physical trials to reach the temple at the summit of the mountain. The trek is available to all comers, however, and Spock cannot help but feel that the captain would find this more appealing than the flower gardens, or the local outdoor statuary. Perhaps not as much as the pleasure district, but Spock judiciously decides to keep that knowledge to himself. The point of the day is to spend time with the captain and get to know one another, and not to encourage Kirk to fraternize with the local people.
Decision made, Spock returns to the communal bathing facilities—now entirely empty—before resting for the remainder of the night.
+
Before the first day is over, Spock is finding the structure of the Athosian workday highly inefficient. Negotiations headed by Prime Minister Egbir Woyul proceed slowly, not because the Athosians are reluctant—although there have been some sticking points that will need to be addressed—but because of the requisite socializing and pausing for frequent small meals and entertainment that is a cornerstone of their interactions. The captain is in his element, smiling engagingly as he mingles and charms their hosts, and when they break for the evening repast, he is quickly surrounded by a host of young Athosians, all touching him, all eager to be the focus of his attention.
The sight makes Spock stumble over his own words as he converses with the Athosian Minister of Transportation, not because the scene itself is unusual or unexpected, but because of the novel response it evokes in him. For the first time ever he is experiencing an irrational internal turmoil that he believes may be jealousy. How curious.
It is not as if he has made any kind of formal declaration to the captain of his intentions. How can he when he has just decided to become better acquainted on a personal level with him? Which is a far cry from asking him to bond—a commitment that nothing in his captain’s behavior leads him to believe he would accept from anyone, least of all himself given that they could barely be described as having any degree of friendship. And there is no reason to disapprove of the captain’s actions, when interacting with the Athosians is a necessity, and Kirk’s playful but unspecific flirting is facilitating the negotiations. Thus, the disconcertion at seeing green-yellow-hued fingers on the captain’s arm is illogical.
Illogical and unwarranted.
Yet Spock cannot deny that he experiences a certain measure of relief when the Prime Minister Woyul extracts the captain to adjourn to the dining room. Puzzling.
He must meditate upon this.
The room is grand with a long table that Spock estimates seats at least sixty. Down the center alternates large, ornate candelabra made of a fiery red metal, and floral displays that reflect the colors of the Athosian planetary flag of blue, orange and brown. Hanging overhead are clear crystal chandeliers, giving off rainbows of refracted light that shimmer about the walls.
“Light be praised! It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Spock turns to find a young woman smiling at him, trailing him into the room. She is younger than most of the of those attending the meal, her pale pink diaphanous gown wrapped in folds about her, setting off the color of her skin and her long blue hair flowing to her shoulders.
He’s unsure exactly to what she is referring, but nevertheless concurs. “Indeed, my lady.” He glances towards his captain who is listening to the Prime Minister, his face serious, nodding in apparent agreement. There is too much ambient noise for Spock to hear what is being said.
“I am called Kahero,” she informs him, forcing him to turn his attention back to her. “You are Spock.”
“I am,” he says with a small bow.
Kahero links her arm into his and it is all Spock can do not to pull away, fearing it would appear rude. He has no idea who she is, but if she is attending the meal, she’s likely to be a high-ranking official or politician. “Come,” she says. “I will show you to your seat—we’re sitting together.”
Despite his uniform insulating him from her touch, Spock can sense desire in her and automatically tenses, walking stiffly at her side.
“Excuse me, my lady.”
Spock is so focused on reinforcing his telepathic shielding, he fails to see Kirk approach.
Kahero turns to the captain, but maintains her hold on the first officer’s arm.
“We probably failed to include it in our cultural brief,” Kirk begins, “but Vulcans prefer not to be touched by anyone other than those closest to them.” He says the words with his most charming smile.
His captain’s intervention is not only welcome, but creates a stir within him that he is unable to identify.
“Is that so, Captain?” Kahero says and tightens her hold on Spock’s arm. “Well, I am hoping to become closer. Commander Spock is an attractive man.”
Vulcan etiquette prohibits a person discussing someone in front of them as though they are not present, since it is illogical to do so. However, he has noticed this is not so among the Terran and, presumably, the Athosian cultures.
Kirk looks directly at Spock and smiles warmly. “I agree.” The two words intensify the stirring within. “I’m sorry to break the news to you, my lady,” Kirk says, regarding Kahero for a moment before turning his attention back to the Vulcan, the smile still in place as he holds his first officer’s gaze, “but Commander Spock is too polite to tell you he is already taken.”
Spock suppresses any outward manifestation of surprise at the words, realizing he has never told Kirk that he and Uhura ended their relationship three point seven months earlier. It is with relief that Kahero releases his arm, but not before he senses a stab of disappointment from her.
“It’s a pity. But I have to say, you two make a most handsome couple.”
“I—” Kirk begins, but Spock interrupts.
“Thank you, my lady. You are most gracious.”
Kahero, it later transpires, is Prime Minister Woyul’s daughter, home for a short time from the academy where she is studying Athosian philosophy. Although the captain’s appearance was successful in diverting her from her amorous pursuit, she decides to satisfy her curiosity about the aliens in another way, questioning Spock throughout the meal about Kirk and their relationship, regardless of how many times he changes the topic of conversation. How did they meet? How long have they been together? Are all Federation ships manned by mated couples?
She assumes that they are permanently bonded, and Spock does not have the opportunity to correct her before she offers another round of questions. Why didn’t Kirk and Spock tell her father they were joined? Don’t they want to be together instead of occupying separate rooms? Are they fighting?
Up until that point, Spock has been as truthful as he can in all of his answers, but her line of query is proving difficult. To reveal that he has misled her could have deleterious consequences on the negotiations, but so too could the impression that there is dissension in his and the captain’s relationship. As ambassadors of the Federation, they must offer a united and stable front to entice the Athosians to join, and hints of marital strife will counteract that.
“My relationship with Jim is mutually satisfactory.” The feel of the captain’s given name is odd on his tongue. Odd, but not displeasing. “However, given the nature of our duties during our time here, we did not wish to—”
Kahero has a habit of interrupting Spock’s sentences in a manner he would find irksome were he prone to Human emotions. “Nonsense! My father would never have knowingly separated the two of you had he known. He is very old-fashioned in his beliefs and will be pleased to learn that you two are a couple. On Athos, a man with as much responsibility as your captain would already be wed and have offspring if possible. My father invited those Athosians from families of sufficient standing who are of marriageable age to come in the hopes of enticing your captain to choose one.”
Spock instinctively looks towards Kirk, and sure enough, there are a number of young and attractive Athosians—both male and female—seated in his vicinity. He turns back to Kahero, but she is already out of her seat and heading towards the end of the table where Kirk and the Prime Minister are eating.
This does not bode well, although he has no one to blame but himself, and his uncharacteristic moment of impulsiveness.
+
The captain adjusted to the news that he is bonded to Spock with admirable poise, and over dinner, he and Prime Minister Woyul spent five point seven minutes apologizing to each other for the misunderstanding. Spock could only wonder at what was going through his captain’s mind at that juncture.
Now they are standing in Kirk’s accommodations, Spock notices that his captain does not look at him, and his shoulders are stiff as they watch servants move Spock’s few possessions to the captain’s room which, as befitting his rank, is grander both in size and furnishings.
The room boasts a small double bed, two small couches and a desk all of which are made from the same ornately carved green-colored wood. On the desk stands the portable sub-space comms. console they brought with them so that the captain can keep in touch with his ship while she is away from the Athosian star system.
When they are finally alone, Spock clasps his hands behind his back and says, “Captain, I wish to apologize for the situation I have—”
Kirk waves his hand. “Nothing to apologize for, Spock. Hell, I didn’t know who she was either.” He blows out a long stream of air and then smiles crookedly. “Besides, this is loads better than that time we got stuck on Epsilon Tauri II for three days. Food, bed, showers, and tomorrow we get to explore the city without worrying something is going to attack us. We’re going to turn soft if this goes on too long. Speaking of showers, I think I’m going to go down and get rid of the day’s grime. Got to take advantage of real water showers while I can, right?”
Spock nods his head, not saying anything else as Kirk gathers what he needs before leaving the room. He understands that he is not invited.
Spock wishes to meditate but is doubtful, after all that has transpired that evening, that he could achieve the state of equilibrium required prior to Kirk’s return. Instead, he sits on one of the couches to reflect.
Despite his captain’s reassuring words and outward appearance, Spock is uncertain what the Human truly thought of his deception that resulted not only in embarrassed apologies having to be made on both his and their hosts’ part, but their being forced to share quarters, with the resultant loss of privacy. The bed, he estimates, is less than 1.5 meters wide—scarcely a double—and, with the additional seating too small to provide an alternative, he has already decided the captain shall keep the bed for himself, since his own Vulcan constitution allows him to function on far less rest than Humans ordinarily require.
Anyone who knows Spock would never describe him as impulsive. He believes in considering all his options, carefully weighing up all pros and cons, before alighting on a final decision. He is also known for being scrupulously honest in all his dealings and has never failed to object to deceptions StarFleet has ordered them to perpetrate in order to fulfill a mission. There is no doubt in his mind, therefore, that his actions would be seen as entirely out of character by Kirk, even though he has so far said nothing on the matter. And that, Spock acknowledges, is out of character for his captain.
But to the matter in point, Spock is entirely baffled by his own behavior. His dishonesty is in no way logical, he concedes. He knows that Kirk was about to disabuse Kahero of her misunderstanding when he interrupted, cutting his captain’s words short in order to perpetrate the deception. It would have been equally as simple to give a further explanation as to why touching a Vulcan in such a forward manner is a cultural taboo among his people, and he is certain she would have desisted. She is young, and somewhat immature by Vulcan standards, but he detected no malice in her.
Spock thinks back to a point earlier when he noticed how many women flocked to his captain and how seeing such a thing affected him in a somewhat negative manner. Used to suppressing all emotion, jealousy is one with which he is entirely unfamiliar. Not even when he was with Nyota, who drew the amorous advances of many men—his captain included—though he had long suspected that was more what Humans referred to as a ‘running joke’, than in all seriousness—did he experience this degree of possessiveness. Yet, given his realization the day before over his attraction to his captain, together with the events that evening and the physiological and psychological triggers that manifested within him, there is no doubt in his mind that that is what he briefly experienced.
He is certain Kirk is not the kind of man to feel flattered by actions motivated by such an emotion. From what he knows of his captain, he values his freedom and independence and has frequently berated his first officer for being over-protective in some of their more challenging and dangerous missions. He needs to be careful, he concludes, and to ensure that any such emotions are ruthlessly suppressed. This is not easy for Vulcans as they are naturally possessive of their mates, even though Spock knows he has no right to be since not only is his captain entirely unaware of the direction Spock’s thoughts have been taking with regards a relationship, but he has no evidence to suggest that Kirk would be interested, were he to be informed.
Spock reflects on another part of the conversation with Kahero, when she admitted the Athosian people were hoping the captain would choose a mate from among their own. Although Kirk was not privy to that discussion, it is likely the Prime Minister himself has informed the captain of their wish and, knowing his captain, he would have likely given a non-committal reply—neither an agreement nor an outright rebuff.
This is not the first mission that such a proposal has been made. When visiting 21 Ursa Majoris V, the planetary president offered the captain a choice of women at the conclusion of the mineral rights negotiations as a sign of goodwill. When it had become clear that the chosen would be his to take with him, Kirk has graciously turned down the gift, citing a non-existent StarFleet regulation. The real one, which states the acceptance of gifts of sentient lifeforms is completely forbidden would not have been politic to flag, since StarFleet were clearly willing to turn a blind eye to certain of the slavery practices common on the planet in exchange for the right to mine pergium.
Given that the probability of Kirk taking up the offer of marriage to an Athosian is less than zero point three percent, and his refusal would have a thirty six point four percent probability of potentially causing offence, especially if he had misread the situation and taken one of those women to his chamber for what he would no doubt believe to be a merely casual sexual encounter, then this deception has likely caused a certain saving of face, if not averted a diplomatic incident. His captain, who is both highly intuitive and a gifted strategic thinker, in all probability came to such a conclusion almost immediately. This train of thought goes a long way to explaining his captain’s quiet acceptance of the situation.
Before he could ruminate further, the door slides open to reveal Kirk, pink and flushed from a hot shower, wearing nothing but a short robe. Spock ruthlessly clamps down on the unexpected beginnings of arousal.
“Captain—”
“Jim,” he interrupts. “If we’re going to share a bed tonight,” he says with the characteristic smirk he shows whenever he finds a situation amusing, “you could at least call me by my first name.”
Spock nods in acquiescence. “Jim, as you are aware—”
His captain holds his hand up to forestall him and Spock stops in mid-sentence. “Don’t give me the ‘Vulcans need less rest than Humans’ lecture. We’re going to share that bed and I don’t want any of your logical arguments why we shouldn’t. There’s plenty enough room for two and it won’t be the first time we’ve shared close quarters.”
That is true, although the one other time was because they were sharing a jail cell in which the low ambient night-time temperature had caused them both to accept the logic of sharing body warmth until a rescue could be successfully mounted.
Spock eyes the bed dubiously, while noting a seventeen percent increase in his heart-rate, together with elevated respiration. He knows better than to debate the matter with Kirk, who can be most stubborn once his mind is set. He is in no doubt his captain has given it thorough consideration while carrying out his ablutions and has likely thought of a number of convincing counter-arguments to any protests he may make.
“Very well . . . Jim.” The use of his given name elicits a smile and Spock’s heart-rate increases a further two percent. “I will return shortly.”
Spock takes his toiletry bag and sleep clothes to change into and exits the room wondering, as he makes his way to the communal bathing facilities, how much sleep he will in all likelihood get when lying in such close proximity to the man who, now he has acknowledged it, he is finding increasingly desirable.
When he returns to the room, the lights are dim, and Kirk is lying in the bed. It is difficult to ascertain if he is sleeping due to the simple fact that a line of pillows down the center of the bed blocks Spock’s view. The only reason he knows his captain is in the bed at all is that he can see one bare foot resting on top of the blanket.
Kirk’s arm and head appear over the topmost pillow, and he smiles somewhat sheepishly. “I know this is going to make the bed even smaller, but I didn’t want you to stay up all night worrying I would roll over and accidentally touch you or something.”
“Indeed,” he blinks. Kirk’s concern is commendable, however, ultimately unnecessary. Spock is not at all averse to the captain touching him. Rather, he would welcome such intimacy.
“And I know you get cold, so you can have the blanket.”
“Captain—”
“I haven’t been using it anyway. Really, Spock, it’s much hotter here than on the ship. I’m fine.”
It is true that the city is warm—his research suggests the climate is not dissimilar to Earth’s arid desert regions although with less of a fluctuation in temperature between night and day, and the Athosians eschew indoor climate control in lieu of structures open to the elements. The heat has been a pleasant contrast from the overly cool conditions on board the Enterprise . Nonetheless, the captain’s insistence in looking after Spock’s welfare—
“Besides, I thought we agreed you were going to call me ‘Jim.’”
“Jim.” Spock receives another smile at the use of the captain’s name, and once again, his heart rate alters in response. It is strange how such a small allowance brings Kirk pleasure. Stranger still, that it pleases Spock as well. “I do not wish to burden—”
“It’s not a burden. Trust me, being married to you is one hundred times better than being married to one of the Athosians the Prime Minister kept parading in front of me.”
The statement confirms Spock’s suspicion that the captain was aware of the minister’s intentions and is apparently relieved that, henceforth, it will no longer be a cause of contention. The nine point eight percent increase in his heart rate has less to do with the knowledge that he has alleviated an obstruction in the negotiations, however, than with the captain’s choice of words. It is highly illogical given they were said in jest and Kirk attaches no significance to them.
“Anyway, it’s really late, and I want to be rested so I can take full advantage of my first day off in forever, so I’m hitting the sack. Yeah, yeah, I know there aren’t actually any burlap bags around here,” he grins. “G’night, Spock.”
“Sleep well. Jim.”
Spock unpacks his belongings, arranging them side-by-side with the captain’s. He allows the process to take longer than absolutely necessary in order to give Kirk time to fall asleep. The captain does not require an excessive amount of sleep, averaging approximately five point three hours per night, according to McCoy. For him to state that he wishes to be well-rested for tomorrow, while perhaps truthful, is misleading as it is only the equivalent to twenty three forty seven. Considering they have not yet discussed plans for the next day, Spock is doubtful that the captain desires to leave their room before oh-six hundred.
He calls to mind the tension Kirk displayed when the servants moved Spock’s possessions to his quarters. It vanished by the time he returned from the bathing facilities and, at the time, Spock dismissed it as the captain adjusting to the new situation they found themselves in. He reconsiders that now, however.
Perhaps the captain was not only looking after Spock’s comfort with the placement of the pillows.
He deliberates on the value of meditating before sleeping, since he has yet to spend any time that day undertaking the discipline that is necessary to his control and well-being. He decides to wait. If Kirk is actually uncomfortable with sharing a bed with him, then he does not want to increase that uneasiness by having him wake up in proximity to him. Better to remain awake until after the captain has fallen asleep and to depart the bed before there is a possibility the captain will rouse.
He bides his time until he is certain Kirk is sleeping before joining him on the bed. He would prefer to sleep on his back, but the lack of space makes that impossible, so he rests on his side instead, facing outward.
“So . . .” Spock’s eyebrows raise. After fifty two minutes of near silence marked only by rhythmic breathing, the captain’s voice is as alert as ever. “This is weird.” He feels a pillow twitch as Kirk chuckles. “Is Uhura going to demand satisfaction for the slight to your honor when we get back home?”
“I assume you are alluding to the custom of two participants engaging in ritualistic combat, whereby the victor claims rectitude by benefit of physically overpowering the loser. Although, in Human history, women were typically not allowed to fight, thus, they would have a male family member or lover act as their champion. I am, of course, perfectly capable of defending my own honor. I also do not believe you need be concerned about Nyota seeking recompense on my behalf since she is no longer my lover.”
“What?”
Spock is aware Kirk heard him perfectly the first time, the exclamation a Human means of expressing surprise. So rather than repeat the revelation, he keeps his eyes closed and feels the bed shift, knowing without looking that Kirk is leaning over the line of pillows, staring at him.
“When did you two break up?”
“By ‘break up,’ are you referring—”
“Stopped dating, no longer perform the horizontal tango, went your separate ways, don’t see each other in a sexual context anymore, whatever, Spock, you know what I’m talking about!”
“Lieutenant Uhura and I have not been romantically involved for three point seven months.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” The captain sounds incredulous.
There are many ways he can phrase his reply. “I was not aware that you were interested in the status of my romantic availability.”
“I—what? Well, I mean, you’re-you’re my friend, you know? And I-I wouldn’t—I just worry about you. I wouldn’t want you to—”
Spock interrupts his increasingly ill at ease captain. “Your concern is appreciated,” he says gravely, finally turning to look up at Kirk’s flushed face. “However, Lieutenant Uhura and I parted amicably, and her absence has not caused me any distress.”
“Oh. Uh, well, that’s good. For you. I guess. Um . . .”
Spock considers saying something that would make his interest in Kirk clear, but he concludes one surprise is enough at the moment if the captain’s expression is any indication.
“Goodnight, Jim.”
The captain hums distractedly, settling back down on his portion of the bed, and the silence on the other side of the pillow is thoughtful.
Spock is perplexed by his captain’s reaction, the nuances of Human behavior, as is so often the case, being beyond his comprehension. He had been quick to reassure his commanding officer that the break-up in no way affected either his or the communication officer’s ability to carry out their duties. Indeed, the mere fact that Kirk had been unaware of the end of their romantic union bore testament to that fact.
He considers Kirk’s indignation and wonders if his captain, who he is aware from stories Nyota shared with him, might want to attempt, once more, to engage her romantically, but he quickly dismisses the notion when he recalls his captain’s words, you’re my friend . . . I just worry about you. The concern seems to be genuine and when he reassured Kirk that the break-up has in no way been deleterious to either party, he appeared mollified. That’s good. For you.
It appears that Kirk’s wish for them to share a friendship, a camaraderie that goes beyond their working relationship, is authentic. Spock feels a quite logical sense of relief that his aloofness early on in the mission has not driven Kirk away. Indeed all it has apparently served to do is to cause his captain to cease seeking him out in their free time for non-work activities, or demonstrating any outward manifestation of the amity Kirk clearly feels for him.
He has been aware for some time that together, the Enterprise command team is more than the sum of its parts, their synergy bringing about results or resolutions in what oftentimes appear to be irresolvable situations. They are, to use ancient earth symbolism, like yin and yang, order and chaos. It takes Vulcan logic and restraint to discipline Human aggression and rashness; yet it is his captain’s impulsiveness and unpredictability, coupled with his brilliant leaps of intuition, that have frequently been the factors to overcome insurmountable odds.
Their minds, he is certain, are highly attuned. This is not just from his own observations and powers of deduction. His counterpart himself alluded to a friendship in his own universe with his captain that he implied, to paraphrase his words, had defined them both. What he described, without actually stating the term, was the ancient Vulcan concept of T’hy’la—to be one with another in mind, body and katra. Such a degree of compatibility and closeness is impossible for a Vulcan without a strong mental connection, if not a full bond. At the time, Spock was highly skeptical, especially since he was comfortable in his union with Nyota, while the majority of his early dealings with Kirk were aggressively confrontational. He thought the cadet belligerent and disrespectful and only agreed to accompany the Enterprise on its five-year mission for the unique scientific and research opportunities it would afford him. Or so he had told himself.
Spock was all too familiar with the Human propensity for self-delusion. It pained him, therefore, to admit to such weakness in himself. The kernel of an idea his counterpart had sown lay apparently dormant for many months. T’hy’la is a concept compelling to any Vulcan, but to him perhaps more so having lived a life in which, for the most part, he has been largely rejected by the people of both his native races. Entirely undetected, a part of his unconscious has been insidiously nurturing the notion, only for it to spring forth now into his awareness, fully-formed and inviting and irresistible. This explains his sudden and deep attraction to his captain that appeared to spring out of nowhere.
Spock gains greatest satisfaction from dealing with objective criteria, tangible data, or theories he can prove with mathematical calculation. He is at a loss, however, when it comes to one James T. Kirk. It is not enough to know that in another universe they were everything to one another, since historical circumstances in this timeline are different, their lives having taken a sufficiently disparate course, molding them in such a manner that they are far from being the same men as their counterparts. Because of this, in this universe, he has come to realize that Kirk is a truly unknown quantity, an enigma Spock is unsure he will ever fathom.
His challenge is this: how can he discern what it truly is that Kirk is seeking from him; simple friendship, or more?
After forty six minutes, he has failed to quiet his mind sufficiently to fall asleep—far longer than is usual for him. He considers getting up and meditating since his lack of opportunity to do so has no doubt contributed to his appalling inability to discipline his mind to a state of proper stillness. However, he is concerned he may wake Kirk and so remains in place. Some time later, having undertaken a simple breathing and relaxation bio-feedback exercise, he finally finds repose.
Spock wakes during the night—two point three hours have passed since he fell asleep, his time-sense tells him. At first, before he has properly shaken off the last vestiges of sleep, he believes a low-level ‘noise’ is the reason for his awakening. It takes him almost a minute to realize what the origin is: Kirk has wrapped himself around the pillows between them, hugging them tightly to his body, with one of his arms out-flung, his finger-tips lightly making contact with Spock’s back. What he ‘hears’ is not an external noise at all, but rather his captain’s unconscious thoughts while in a dream state.
Were there room, he would move away, but he is already on the edge of the bed. Instead, he strengthens the telepathic buffer he maintains as a matter of course during his waking hours and the buzzing of thoughts becomes no more than a background hum that he is able to ignore. He is awake for thirteen minutes when Kirk moves, rolling over away from him, taking the pillow with him. With a sense of relief, Spock once more falls asleep.
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