Upon Waking

[iron_command]

How long it had been that he had been asleep was an unknown. Christopher Pike woke all at once but did not jerk or jar awake, simply became conscious and let his body remain relaxed and limp. He took in his non-visual surroundings first. He heard no other movement except the slow breathing of the body beneath his. He was sweating, but considering

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[iron_command]

Pike dried himself off and pulled on the leather gloves, flexing his hands within them, feeling the tingle as the nanoprobes searched and mapped out the electrical impulses of his body. Perhaps his eyes chanced over Spock's body, a few times.

[iron_command]

I think that for everyone's sake, you might as well come out here. Pike said with a flavor of amusement. He studied Jim silently, then nodded.

"Changes of clothing would be welcomed." He gestured over the clothing strewn across the floor. "If we could be allowed basic computer access as well." He had no hesitation in his voice, not quite a command though.

[original_fine]

Jim held Pike's gaze.

"I think that can be arranged," he said after a slight pause. Terminal access would have to be monitored--nearly any security they put on it might be overrode by Spock (or Pike, for that matter), but it did not make sense to leave them entirely cut off. And uniforms were not advisable, considering the confusion that would prompt. But Pike had been reasonable thus far. Dealt with honestly, Jim saw no reason he would not continue to be. Pike would understand the limitations, even if he did not like them. And if he abused their hospitality, Jim would not hesitate to cease offering it.

[iron_command]

Pike's head tilted very slightly, and he asked out of curiosity mostly, "Where they different, where you came from?" A gesture with a hand up and down, indicating Jim's body. "Your uniforms."

[original_fine]

Jim's eyebrow raised, mostly at the casual nature of the question. It was almost like conversation.

"They are," he said. And shrugged. "Mostly the fabric, the texture. The fit of the pants." Some humor at his own expense; he was aware that his preference for his own uniform was rooted in something like vanity.

He pulled out his communicator and requisitioned two changes--trousers and black undershirts. They would pull the measurements from files on this universe's Pike and his own Spock.

[mirroredspock]

If the visitor had been any kind of threat, Christopher would have indicated it. With every minute that passed, Spock's curiosity increased until it threatened to overwhelm him. So Christopher's amused invitation to join them was a relief.

He quietly entered the room, watchful and still on edge.

[iron_command]

For all that he was, he was an intelligent man with a natural curiosity that was often matched with that of his first officer's. His own uniform was vastly different then the one of this universe. Then again, he did have a penchant for leather.

He heard the bathroom door hiss open and glanced, suddenly even more amused and curious how Jim would react to Spock's lack of modesty. He had a suspicion about how, though.

[original_fine]

Jim eyes followed the new figure, so familiar it almost hurt knowing it was not Spock. He did not react at all to Spock's nudity, though it did strike him that his Spock would never have been so casual. Jim by no means sexualized all nudity, as tempting as it was. Though of course the body before him was remarkably similar to the one he was coming to know as intimately as his own. Neither was he surprised by any implication offered, as he had been aware of their activity.

"Mr. Spock," he said, inclining his head. He glanced at Pike. "Forgive me; I'm not sure about the designations of your world. My name is James T. Kirk."

He waited for that sign of recognition, at least of the name. Even if the other who bore it was not recognizable as him.

[mirroredspock]

James T. Kirk. Fascinating.

This was an entirely different sort of man than the Kirk of their own universe. Actually, perhaps not entirely different. Spock circled him like a great cat determining whether or not something was prey, heedless of his own nudity and the vivid green marks on his skin that were indicators of Christopher's possession. This one had a similar flare in his eyes. But also a sense of command. This man might be his Christopher's equal then. Or the closest thing they had met thus far.

Satisfied with the initial inspection, Spock retreated to retrieve his pants. He held them with a certain expression of distaste. He was clean. His trousers were not.

"Spock is sufficient, James T. Kirk."

He flicked a glance to Christopher and then back, considering the two men, processing and thinking.

"Do you have a reasonable estimate of how long it might take to receive the clothes you requisitioned?"

[original_fine]

Jim was not prey. He did not run, nor flinch with the first sign of wanting to. He allowed Spock to complete his circuit, examining the Vulcan in his own way. The marks were obvious, though more violent than any he had made. There was something feral about this Spock, something tamed-but-not-broken in his gaze, his lithe gait. He belonged to Pike. And no one else.

Interesting. Whatever problems this Spock had, they were not those of his. Or his younger counterparts. An entirely different upbringing; the same basic material molded into this wild cat. When his own Spock was hardly a neutered pet.

"That would seem to be a priority," he said, with the barest hint of a smile. "Soon. I asked that they be rushed; it should be within minutes. The computer access will be a little longer; I'll need to consult with security."

[iron_command]

"I'm glad to hear it." Pike knew they were of two very different universes, himself and this James Kirk, yet in some ways he could see the attitude he looked for in his own officers in this one. A strength of body and mind, a sureness of thought, and courage.

[mirroredspock]

Spock dropped the soiled clothing. He could wait.

He stepped closer to this Kirk again. His nostrils flared.

It was almost his own scent, all over this human.

Christopher?

It was tinged with confusion and even a slight discomfort.

"Who are you?"

[original_fine]

Jim tilted his head slightly. Perhaps it was knowledge of his own Spock that allowed him to pick up just a bit on this one's discomfort. But not the reason for it--not that there weren't plenty to choose from, Jim's mind supplying many of them readily. Some of them had to do with his own Spock. Some didn't. It was impossible to tell.

"I told you," he said calmly. "James T. Kirk. In my world, I am captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise."

[mirroredspock]

"Why do you smell like that? What is your scent?"

Spock stepped even closer, eyes hot now with confusion and almost-anger.

[original_fine]

Jim had only seen that expression when Spock was not in his right mind; this one was controlled, but in an entirely different way.

Jim wondered what sort of place Vulcan was, in his universe.

"Spock." He maintained eye contact and spoke calmly, no threat but no soft underbelly. At least not in his tone, though he was aware that connections, personal connections, might be perceived as a weakness. He knew there was no lying to Spock's nose,however. "The Spock of my universe, the one you smell, is my t'hy'la." His pronunciation was not perfect, but it had improved greatly.

[iron_command]

[OOC - Ignore my last post please, you updated before I could.]

"SPOCK." The tone was strong, obviously a command wrapped up into a single tone. "...Kirk and the Spock of his universe are bonded."

He had never spoken that word to his bond mate.