Fic: The Heroic Adventure of Jeremiah Sebastian Tiberius Kirk
Title: The Heroic Adventure of Jeremiah Sebastian Tiberius Kirk
Word Count: 416
Rating: PG
Challenge: Joy
Authors Notes: Star Trek:2009 characters and alternate take on ep 'The Trouble With Tribbles;' Spock's POV
Warning: Possible excess dialogue... I was trying something different ^^;
*****
“As I’m sure you are aware, Captain, Doctor McCoy has ordered that all Polygeminus grexes on board are to be processed for shipping back to Iota Geminorum IV.“
“He has a name and I don’t recall hearing you knock Mr. Spock so if you’d be so kind as to turn right back aroun-“
“Forgive me for interrupting but if you required privacy Captain I would put forward to you that illegally harboring a stray Tribble in your first officer’s quarters was a highly illogical course of action.”
“Bite you tongue! Jerry isn’t a stray, are you Jerry?”
“...’Jerry’ Captain?”
“Jeremiah Sebastian Tiberius Kirk. Fitting ain’t it? A stray Tribble leading us with his stomach alone to unearth a nasty Klingon spy. Now that takes guts.”
“A task worthy enough of sharing your surname then?”
A black collar shifts; a shrug.
“We chose Starfleet, life on the Enterprise, and it’s within these walls that we will make the decisions that will effect whether we live or die in the days to come. There’s no stability here, no promise of tomorrow, but we are all given a duty, a purpose to keep us on course despite the risk to our very lives. Knowing all of this, what would you choose Spock? Survival or duty?”
“There is no question. My duty is to the prime directive, my Captain, the crew and the Federation.”
Familiar lips begin to curve.
“Knowing none of those things today Jerry made the same choice, saving hundreds of lives by straying from the pack and an abundant source of food to irritate the hell out of me and alert us to his kin’s death by poisoned quadrotriticale and... well I think that deserves some kind of recognition.”
“An honor indeed Captain.”
A smile finally takes hold, burning brighter than any known sun.
“Wanna hold him?”
And Spock moves, long legs taking him to where his Captain rests cross-legged on his bed, the white and brown spotted creature nearly hidden in the broad cup of Jim’s hands, a safe place to be indeed. The transfer is seamless, bringing the other man closer, distracting with his proximity until the Vulcan’s concentration is refocused with a soft sound and gentle vibrations. Expression puzzled, lost in curiosity, Spock does not need to ask before Jim is leaning in close, lips brushing the outer shell of his ear as if whispering to him one of humanity’s most precious secrets.
“That is the sound of joy.”
And Spock thinks he begins to understand.