Ad Astra Per Aspera: Chapter 2 - Connections
Fandom: Star Trek TOS (AU)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock, mentions of others
Rating: PG-13
Summary: As he begins his second year at Starfleet Academy, Spock has all but given up on finding acceptance from his fellow students, convincing himself he's better off alone. First-year cadet Jim Kirk makes it his mission to change that, and ends up succeeding in ways neither of them thought possible.
Words: ~8100/31500
Warnings: Sexual assault
When Jim first made the decision to befriend Spock, he naturally assumed it would require some degree of effort. Vulcans, after all, are not exactly known for their warm and friendly personalities, and he'd imagined a long, drawn-out process, involving many doomed attempts to define the human concept of 'friendship' in logical terms.
As it turns out, it isn't like that at all. Far from scorning Jim's attempts at friendship, Spock welcomes them, albeit with the slight awkwardness that speaks of unfamiliarity with the concept. And it goes both ways; the more Jim gets to know Spock, the more he likes him. He may be quiet and reserved, but he's also smart, and kind, and surprisingly funny.
And, like Jim, he's just a little bit broken.
Spock's admission about his father made Jim grateful for his own parents' support; Sam's rejection hurt badly enough, he can't imagine what Spock must be going through. Then he learns a little more about Spock's past and realises that's just the tip of the iceberg.
A little over a week after their first private chess game, he convinces Spock to come over and watch a movie. It was one of Jim's favourites as a kid, and he's looking forward to sharing it with Spock, so he's mildly annoyed when Spock mentions he has already seen it.
"When?" Jim asks.
Spock gives him that slightly confused look that says he still isn't entirely comfortable with human eccentricities. "My mother showed it to me when I was a child."
Jim stares at him. "Vulcans watch The Wizard of Oz?"
A very strange look crosses Spock's face, then, and he just stares at Jim as if trying to figure something out. Finally, after a long moment, he glances away and says quietly, "My mother is not Vulcan."
Jim blinks, and it takes physical effort to keep his jaw from dropping. "Really?" For all he's learned about Spock these last few weeks he would never have guessed he was anything but fully Vulcan.
Spock still isn't looking at him. "Yes." Before Jim can ask the obvious question, he adds, "She is human."
Jim is silent for a moment, trying to process that. "So you're half-human?" He didn't even know that was possible.
Spock nods, and Jim notices that he's gone tense, as if he expects Jim to react badly to the news. Jim wonders if that's happened to him before and has to force down a surge of anger at the thought. "Well, I think that's neat," he says. "Makes you special. Unique."
Spock glances at him, looking a fraction less tense. "Most people view it as a negative." He sounds almost curious.
Jim shrugs. "Not me." He studies Spock for a few seconds, then adds quietly, "Did… do people treat you badly because of it?"
For a moment Jim thinks Spock isn't going to answer, then he draws in a sharp breath and says, "My classmates on Vulcan were not entirely… impressed with the idea."
He doesn't elaborate, but Jim has enough imagination to guess what kinds of things lie in the gaps of that sentence. "Well, they're idiots," he says firmly. "You're one of the best people I've ever met, and you shouldn't let anyone tell you otherwise."
Spock stares at him. "You truly believe that." It's said as though Spock can't believe it, and the idea brings a lump to Jim's throat. He nods.
Spock looks at him for a moment longer, then abruptly turns away and busies himself with setting up the movie. But as they settle down to watch, Jim notices the tension in Spock's shoulders is gone.
* * * * *
Spock has never considered his life lacking before. He likes being alone, focusing on his own tasks, his own problems, his own solutions. But he is learning that time spent with Jim can be equally rewarding. Jim does not judge him; he accepts whatever Spock is willing to give, and so makes Spock want to give more.
He even accepts the reveal of Spock's human ancestry without judgement or condemnation, something Spock had not believed possible.
As the weeks pass he finds himself spending more and more time with Jim and less time alone. On several occasions they meet up with some of Jim's other friends, but more often it is just the two of them. And, if Spock is honest, he prefers it that way.
Spock is so wrapped up in their new friendship that he is mildly surprised when, during a weekly chess match, Jim states that he will have to cancel their plans to get together the next day.
"May I ask why?" Spock asks.
A faint blush appears on Jim's cheeks. "I… well, actually I have a date."
Spock considers that for a moment. He has deliberately kept himself free of romantic entanglements, but there is no reason for Jim to do the same. And it is difficult to miss the effect Jim seems to have on some of their female acquaintances. "Indeed," he says. "Who is she?"
Jim smiles, looking a little amused. "He is called Anton. He's in my Federation History class."
Spock stops in the middle of picking up a knight, taking a moment to process that statement. "I did not realise you were homosexual." He knew such things were common among humans, of course, but it is still surprising to hear Jim speak so candidly about it.
"Bisexual, actually," Jim corrects. Then he tenses, narrowing his eyes at Spock. "Is that a problem?"
"No," Spock replies instantly. The information may have come as a surprise, but Jim's choice of partners is his own business.
Jim relaxes. "Good." He fiddles with the edge of the table. "I didn't know how Vulcans felt about… stuff like that."
"Vulcans believe in IDIC," Spock replies, choosing to ignore the fact that his own childhood does not exactly bear that out. "Infinite diversity in infinite combinations, all of them worthy of respect."
Jim nods. "But you don't engage in such relationships yourselves?"
Spock gives him a blank look. "That would not be logical."
Jim looks for a moment as if he wants to argue, but appears to think better of it. "No," he says softly. "I guess it wouldn't be." He gestures at Spock's hand. "Are you going to do something with that knight?"
Spock realises he is still holding the knight in mid-air and hastily places it back down on the square he was aiming for. They play for a few more moves in silence before Spock's curiosity gets the better of him. "Do your parents know?"
Jim doesn't bother asking what he means, which Spock appreciates. "Yes, and they're fine with it." He shrugs, adding, "My mom told me she dated a few girls before she met my dad, so you could say it runs in the family."
"Indeed," Spock says. He tries, for a moment, to imagine his own father's reaction to such an admission. It is not an appealing thought. "It is fortunate they were so accepting."
Jim shrugs again. "Not really. I wouldn't have told them if I thought they'd have a problem with it. Besides, most people - most humans, I mean - don't care about stuff like that. It's considered a quirk, like people who only date blondes."
It is on the tip of Spock's tongue to ask what importance hair colour could have to the selection of a mate, but he decides that there is likely no satisfactory answer to that question. Instead he tilts his head, studying Jim. "Human society is somewhat fascinating," he says.
"I like to think so," Jim replies, smiling. "But I'm sure Vulcan society is fascinating too."
"I like to think so," Spock deadpans, and raises an eyebrow as Jim bursts out laughing. It is a pleasant sound, and Spock thinks he would like to hear it more often.
Jim manages to calm himself and heaves a sigh, shaking his head fondly. "You know what, Spock?" he says. "I'm really glad I met you."
Spock stares at him, feeling a strange warmth well up in his chest. Part of him wants to tell Jim that he feels the same way, even as the larger, Vulcan part of him cringes away from such blatant feeling.
In the end he says nothing, and the moment passes. But when they say goodnight at the end of the evening, he lays a hand on Jim's arm and leaves it there just a little longer than would be considered strictly acceptable.
From the beaming smile Jim gives him, Spock thinks his message has been understood.
* * *
A few days later, Spock checks his communicator after his computer programming class and is surprised to find a message from Jim. Apparently his Astrophysics class has been cancelled due to illness and he thought Spock might like to meet for lunch. Spock was planning to use the time to catch up on some reading, but it is nothing that cannot wait. He replies with an affirmative, and a few seconds later receives a one word response; Great!
It is illogical, but the message gives him a warm feeling that lasts for several minutes.
Two hours later, he heads across the grounds to the mess hall. As he approaches he sees Jim talking with an older boy. His body language suggests discomfort with the conversation, and Spock finds himself speeding up to intercept them.
As he gets closer he can hear the jeering tone of the older boy's voice, and is struck by a memory of being similarly taunted by his Vulcan classmates. "What's the matter, Jimmy?" the boy says. "Cat got your tongue?"
Jim notices Spock before the other boy does and gives him a look that is half relief and half warning. "Shut up, Finnegan," he says firmly.
The other boy - Finnegan, apparently - just scoffs. "Oh, you'd like that." He shakes his head slowly. "You need to learn your place, Jimmy boy."
"I do not believe it is he who needs to learn his place," Spock says mildly, and Finnegan spins to face him.
"Get lost, pointy ears," he spits. "This is a private conversation."
Spock glances around pointedly at the bustling courtyard. "Hardly."
Finnegan takes a step forward, into Spock's personal space. The proximity is unpleasant, but Spock stands his ground, meeting Finnegan's eyes squarely. For a moment they just stare at each other, then Finnegan steps back, rolling his eyes. "Screw this," he says. "I've got better things to do."
He turns to Jim and gives him a mocking smile. "I'll leave you and your boyfriend alone for now, but don't think this is over." With that he strides away.
Jim watches him leave, then turns to Spock with a slightly wan smile. "Thanks," he says, "but I could have handled it."
Spock studies him for a long moment, drawing some rather unpleasant conclusions. "He has taunted you before." It isn't a question.
Jim shrugs, looking defensive. "I told you, I can handle it." He turns away, muttering darkly, "I've had worse."
He clearly didn't intend Spock to hear that last part. Spock doesn't comment on it, but files it away in the corner of his mind labelled "Jim Kirk". For all his supposed openness, Jim is still something of an enigma, and even after weeks of study Spock does not feel any closer to figuring out how his mind works.
Jim calms down somewhat once they've selected their food and found a place to sit. "I'm sorry about before," he says, fiddling absently with his fork. "Finnegan's an asshole. I hope he didn't make you uncomfortable."
"I am fine," Spock replies, before his curiosity gets the better of him. "Why is he so intent on provoking you?"
Jim shrugs. "I don't know. He's been trying to get a rise out of me for weeks. Mostly I just try to ignore him." He smiles briefly. "Sometimes I imagine punching him in his smug face, but I'd never actually do it." He shakes his head and adds, "But I don't want to talk about him anymore. How was your programming class?"
Spock gives him a quick run through of what he learned that week, before their conversation on Tuesday comes back to him. "It occurs to me that I have been somewhat remiss in not asking how your date went."
To his surprise, Jim just shrugs. "It was all right, I suppose." He prods at his food, frowning. "He's a nice guy and all, but he's a little… vacant. I want someone who challenges me; who makes me think."
Spock tilts his head, considering. Once again Jim has surprised him. He supposes he should get used to that. "Logical," he says. "You are a very intelligent individual; it is only natural that you would seek out a partner who is likewise."
Jim gives him a quick smile. "Thanks," he says. "That means a lot." He shifts slightly in his seat and changes the subject. "How's your food?"
Spock looks down at the vegetable lasagne he is consuming, trying to find something diplomatic to say. "It is edible."
Jim wrinkles his nose. "Yeah, the food here isn't great, is it?"
Spock blinks, surprised at the knowledge that Jim has so easily picked up on his distaste. He must be slipping if his emotions are visible to humans. He thinks darkly that his father would not approve.
"It is somewhat bland," he admits slowly.
Jim grins. "That's one of your Vulcan understatements?" Before Spock can respond, he adds, "Usually I go off-campus. There's a restaurant just a few blocks from here that does the most amazing burgers."
"I am vegetarian," Spock replies.
Jim shrugs. "They do veggie burgers too." He leans forward and adds, "I'll have to take you there sometime."
"That should be interesting," Spock says mildly.
Jim laughs.
* * *
It is not long after that that Spock receives a message from his mother. She and his father are coming to Earth, and she would like to see him. It is not the first such message she has sent, and Spock considers it for a long time, imagining telling her about his experiences at the academy, about the chess club, about Jim. He imagines she would be pleased to know he has found a friend.
If it were just her, he would not hesitate to arrange a meeting, but he does not trust her not to bring along his father in some pretence of family unity. Even now the pain of his father's rejection still stings, and he shudders as he imagines Sarek's reaction to Jim, to their growing friendship. No amount of filial devotion is worth that.
In the end he deletes the message without replying, and spends the rest of the night in meditation.
It doesn't help.
* * *
Several weeks later, they are sitting in Spock's room, studying, when Jim says abruptly, "Are you doing anything for Halloween?"
Spock looks up from his essay on the history of warp drive to give him a puzzled look. "Halloween?"
Jim looks at him incredulously for a moment. "You don't know?"
Spock shakes his head.
"Well, it's a holiday, celebrated on October 31st, where people dress up in costumes and try to scare each other. Kids go out in costume and get candy, but adults mostly just use it as an excuse for a party."
Spock blinks. "And what is the purpose of this holiday?"
Jim frowns. "I'm not sure, actually. I think it has something to do with remembering the dead."
Spock stares at him for a long moment, wondering if this is one of those human 'pranks' he has heard about. "That may be the most illogical thing I have ever heard."
Jim grins. "Yeah, it must sound pretty strange. But it's fun." He stretches his arms above his head. "The reason I asked was because some guys I know are throwing a party, and I wondered if you'd like to come."
Spock considers that. "Would I be required to wear a costume?"
"Well, you could put on a hat and claim you were going as a human." At Spock's unamused look he adds, "I'm sure we can think of something."
"What are you wearing?" Spock asks, suddenly curious.
Jim smiles. "I'm going as Abraham Lincoln."
Spock flicks through his memory for the name. "President of the United States of America from 1861 until his assassination in 1865."
"That's the one," Jim confirms. "He's one of my heroes." He leans forward and fixes Spock with a look. "So, will you come?"
"It sounds as if it would be an interesting experience," Spock admits. "I shall consider it."
"Great!" Jim says. "And if you do decide to go, I'd be happy to help you find a suitable costume."
* * *
In the end, Spock does decide to go - Jim can be annoyingly persuasive when he wants to be - but he does not need any help on his costume. Jim's plan to dress up as Abraham Lincoln has given him an idea, and he has spent several hours in research in an attempt to ensure his representation of his chosen subject is as accurate as possible.
Jim buzzes his door at precisely 2000, dressed in a black three-piece suit with a stovepipe hat and a somewhat ridiculous fake beard. "What do you think?" he asks.
Spock raises an eyebrow. "Your representation is adequate," he says.
Jim narrows his eyes for a second, then laughs. "I suppose I'll take that as a compliment."
"Where did you get the suit?" Spock asks.
Jim looks down. "Rented it." He sighs, leaning against Spock's desk. "That was the easy part. It took me twenty minutes to do up this blasted bow tie."
The bow tie in question is still slightly crooked, and Spock impulsively reaches out and straightens it.
Jim stares at him, wide-eyed. "Your tie was crooked," Spock explains.
Jim continues staring for a moment, then seems to come to his senses. "Uh, thanks," he says. He waves a hand in Spock's direction. "So, what's your costume? It looks very… Vulcan."
Spock smoothes down his robes again. "My costume is intended to represent Surak, the father of logic."
Jim's eyes light up. "I read about him. That's the man who convinced your society to choose logic and emotional control over chaos, right?"
Spock nods. "That is correct. He is highly revered among our people."
Jim smiles. "He's one of your heroes. Like Lincoln is mine."
Spock looks away, the look in Jim's eyes making him feel slightly uncomfortable. "In a manner of speaking, yes."
When he glances up again Jim is still smiling. "Come on," he says. "Let's go show off our costumes."
They arrive at the party a short while later to find it in full swing. Spock looks around as they make their way through the crowd. The sheer variety and assortment of costumes is somewhat impressive. There are people dressed as supernatural creatures, fictional characters, historical figures - including, to Jim's slight annoyance, another Lincoln - animals, and other sentient species such as Andorians and Caitians.
"Hey, man, great Vulcan costume!" says a voice from behind him. Spock can see Jim trying not to laugh as he turns around. The male human in possession of the voice seems to already be slightly intoxicated, and he reaches out a hand towards Spock's face. "Can I touch your ears?"
"No, you may not," Spock tells him sharply.
The boy rolls his eyes. "What, are you gonna nerve pinch me?"
Spock briefly considers it, especially when the boy makes another grab for his ears. Spock evades his grasp and barks, "My ears are not part of my costume, and I do not wish for you to touch them!"
He turns before the boy can respond and begins pushing his way firmly through the crowd. Behind him he can hear one of the boy's friends saying, "That was a real Vulcan, idiot!"
Jim appears beside him as he arrives at the refreshment table. "I'm sorry," he says. "I should have guessed that might happen."
Spock grips his hands together firmly. "It was not your fault." The situation has unsettled him and he barely keeps from flinching when Jim lays a hand on his arm.
"Do you want to leave?" Jim asks.
Spock's immediate reaction is to say yes, but after a few moments of thought he shakes his head. It would not be fair to Jim, and they have both spent too long on their costumes to leave after less than five minutes.
Jim gives him a comforting smile and squeezes his arm. "Okay, but just tell me if you do."
Spock nods again. "I will do so."
Jim turns and surveys the table. "I don't know about you, but I could do with a drink."
He ends up getting a root beer, while Spock has a glass of water. They stick to the outskirts for a while; Spock assumes this is Jim's way of trying to protect him from any more drunken humans. But soon enough Jim is drawn into a discussion with several friends about some piece of Earth culture Spock has little interest in, and he decides to take the opportunity to visit the facilities.
On his way back he is waylaid by a dark-haired girl wearing a green tunic and matching hat, with a quiver of arrows across her back. It takes him a moment to recognise Lauren. "Spock! Hi!" she says.
He tilts his head. "Lauren." He finds it is somewhat pleasing to see her. They have played chess on two more occasions since that first time, and she is improving at a great rate. She is not a friend on the level of Jim, but he thinks they could work well together if they were to be assigned to the same ship in the future.
"I'm Robin Hood," Lauren says, gesturing to her clothing.
"Indeed," Spock agrees. He remembers the character from the books his mother used to read him. "Where did you get the arrows?"
"Archery club," Lauren replies, then claps a hand to her forehead. "Damn, I think I left my bow at the snack table."
"You mean this?" Another girl, dressed as the common human image of an angel, appears at their side holding a bow.
Lauren seizes it happily. "Yes, thank you! You really are an angel."
The other girl laughs. "Yeah, yeah. I bet you say that to all the girls." She looks Spock up and down before asking, "Who's your friend?"
Lauren smiles. "This is Spock. From Chess Club?"
The other girl nods. "Oh, right." She shrugs. "Chess isn't really my game. Archery, now that's something worth training for."
Lauren rolls her eyes. "Spock, this is Millie, my girlfriend. She's about the only person I know who's a bigger archery geek than me."
Millie wraps an arm around Lauren's shoulders and grins. "And proud of it!" She gestures at Spock's outfit with her free hand. "Who're you meant to be?"
Spock straightens slightly. "My costume is intended to represent the Vulcan philosopher Surak."
Millie doesn't look particularly impressed. "Huh. Well, you've got the ears for it." At that point a new song comes on and she bounces on her toes. "Oh, I love this song. Come on, Lauren!" She pulls her arm off Lauren's shoulder and grabs her hand. "See you later, Speck!"
Lauren gives him a wave and a slightly apologetic look as she is dragged off. He can hear her whispering, "It's Spock, not Speck," and Millie's dismissive, "Yeah, yeah. Let's dance!"
Within seconds they are gone and Spock is standing alone in the middle of a crowd of humans. He heads over to where he left Jim, but his friend is no longer there. He tries asking several of the people around him if they know where he went, but none of them do.
Spock glances around him, frowning. He and Jim did not make any plans for what to do if they were separated, and there are enough people around that the chances of finding him with a simple search are remote. Briefly, he regrets leaving his communicator in his room.
Trying to think logically, he checks the refreshment tables, then the restrooms. Jim is not there. With a lack of better options, Spock decides to head outside. He could use some fresh air anyway.
Steeling himself against the touch of unfamiliar minds, he begins making his way through the crowd to the door.
* * * * *
Jim is so caught up in his friends' discussion of the latest Luke Justice episode that it takes him a while to notice that Spock hasn't come back from the restroom. Jim is about to go looking for him when Alison Harris, a pretty brunette dressed as a nurse, appears in front of him and asks him to dance. Jim has admired her from afar for several weeks, and almost trips over himself saying yes.
He'll look for Spock later.
Alison is a wonderful dancer, but somehow being close to her isn't as amazing as he imagined. He keeps thinking of Spock, of how he reacted when that drunk idiot tried to touch his ears. One thing he's learned over the past weeks is that Spock is intensely touch-avoidant and a classic introvert, neither of which are helpful traits when navigating a standard human party.
After a few minutes the worry about Spock becomes too great and he gently extricates himself from Alison's grasp. "I'm sorry," he says. "This was great, but I have to go find a friend of mine."
She looks confused, and a little hurt. "Okay, fine," she says. "Guess I'll just find someone else."
He gives her an awkward smile, and inwardly curses his luck. "I really am sorry," he says, before turning and making his way through the crowd.
Spock isn't in the restroom, nor is he anywhere else that Jim checks. After exhausting his list of options, Jim heads outside, thinking that maybe Spock wanted some air.
He makes it outside a few moments later and looks around. He sees several couples making out, and one guy throwing up behind a bush, but no Spock. At least, that's what he thinks until he looks harder and realises that one of the couples includes Spock.
His first reaction is anger - anger that he was so worried about Spock when he was out here making out with some girl dressed like a cat - but then he realises that Spock's body language is all wrong for a romantic interlude. He's pressed against the wall of the building, and his hands are flat against the girl's shoulders, as if he's trying to push her away.
Jim's anger changes to a different kind and he rushes over there and tears the girl away. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demands. "Get off him!"
"Just trying to loosen him up," the girl replies, with a slur in her speech that indicates she's been drinking quite heavily. "Thought maybe he wouldn't be so uptight if he got some action."
Jim's free hand clenches involuntarily into a fist. "Get lost," he says through gritted teeth. "Now."
Some of what he's feeling must show on his face as the girl takes one look and hurries away, nearly tripping over her fake tail in her haste.
Jim takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself before turning to Spock, who is still leaning against the wall. "Are you okay?"
As soon as he's said it he wants to take the words back. Of course Spock isn't okay; he's just been assaulted. Jim reaches out to touch his arm, then pulls back, wondering if his touch will even be welcome right now.
Spock draws in a sharp breath and straightens up, expression blanker than Jim has ever seen it. "I believe I would like to leave now," he says.
"O-of course," Jim says. "I'll walk you back to your room."
Jim keeps sneaking glances at Spock as they walk, wondering how on Earth he's going to deal with this.
To his surprise, it's Spock who speaks first. "I could have stopped her." His head is bent, eyes scanning the ground.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me," Jim replies quickly. "What she did wasn't okay, and it wasn't your fault." Something occurs to him, then, and he adds, "I was right, back there? Her… advances were unwelcome?"
Spock nods, the barest movement of his head. "Very much so," he replies quietly, and the emptiness in his tone makes Jim ache.
"I'm sorry," he blurts, struggling for something to say. "I shouldn't have left you alone."
Spock looks at him for the first time since they left the party, his face a mask of incomprehension. "It was not your fault."
"But I'm still sorry." Trusting his instincts, Jim reaches out and lightly touches Spock's arm. "If there's anything I can do, just name it."
Spock looks down at the hand, but he doesn't pull away. "I shall do so," he says, and Jim notes with relief that his voice is a shade less empty.
It doesn't take them long to make it back to Spock's building and a few minutes after that Jim is hovering awkwardly in the doorway of Spock's room, watching as he makes his way over to an incense burner and lights up a stick.
"Is there anything I can do?" he asks, suddenly very aware that he's still dressed like Lincoln. He hastily pulls off the stupid beard and hat and takes a step towards Spock, who is staring at the incense as though he doesn't know what to do next.
"I require meditation," Spock says, without turning around.
"Oh." Jim glances behind him at the door. "Do you want me to leave?"
Spock does turn around then. He stares at Jim for a long moment, appearing to consider the question. "No," he says finally. "You can stay." He turns back to the incense burner and adds quietly, "You may find it somewhat boring, however."
"That's not an issue," Jim assures him.
Spock nods, then settles himself on his knees and steeples his fingers. After a moment he goes still, and Jim can almost see him retreat into his mind.
Without taking his eyes off Spock, Jim pulls out a chair and sits down. He doesn't know much about Vulcan meditation, apart from the fact that it's apparently much more vital to their wellbeing than the human kind, but watching Spock he finds himself curious. He wonders if Spock would be willing to teach him some of it.
Spock is like a statue, and as the minutes pass he finds his attention drawn to his friend's profile; hair cut to precision length over his forehead, eyelashes falling over his cheek, lips that are strangely pink, considering the colour of Vulcan blood, and of course those elegantly pointed ears.
It dawns on him then that Spock is actually quite attractive. He was so focused on being Spock's friend that he never stopped to think about it before, but looking at him now it hits him like a blow to the solar plexus.
Jim looks away quickly, feeling his cheeks heat up. Even if Spock weren't entirely uninterested in guys, this is just about the worst possible moment to develop a crush. He glances around for something to distract himself and sees the copy of H.G. Wells's The Time Machine that he lent Spock a few days ago. Jim's already read it, several times, but right now he doesn't care. Anything to keep him from more inappropriate thoughts.
He's just at the part where the Traveller meets the Morlocks, when he becomes aware of a presence at his shoulder and realises Spock has finished his meditation.
Jim closes the book and gives him a warm smile. To his relief, Spock looks considerably less blank than before, the tiny tell-tale signs of emotion that Jim has become so used to now clearly visible. "Hey," he says. "Feeling better?"
"I seem to have regained my equilibrium," Spock says, which Jim takes as a yes. He goes to sit down on the bed and Jim follows, watching as Spock clasps his hands in his lap and stares at them.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Jim asks softly.
"No," Spock replies bluntly. "But I shall do so regardless." He takes a deep breath and clasps his hands on his knees. "I couldn't find you at the party," he begins, and Jim feels a twinge of guilt as he thinks of Alison. "I thought perhaps you had gone outside." He glances over at the far wall. "It was a tempting thought, as the music and number of people were beginning to give me a headache."
Jim shifts a little closer, but doesn't interrupt. Spock continues to stare at the wall. "I went outside and looked around, but you were not there. I was about to go back inside when a girl came up to me. She was swaying on her feet and appeared intoxicated. I asked if she needed help. She asked me what help I was offering." A very faint blush colours his cheeks. "She then suggested that… I could assist her in a sexual way. When I informed her that Vulcans do not engage in casual sexual relations she said..." he trails off briefly, then continues, "…that that explained why they were so uptight, and that clearly I was in need of being 'loosened up'."
Jim's chest is beginning to ache again. "And then she kissed you," he ventures, when Spock doesn't continue.
Spock nods. "I attempted to stop her, but I was pressed against the wall and could not escape." He takes in a sharp breath. "I could feel her emotions through the contact. Lust, triumph, but not a shred of remorse. She did not care that she was violating me." He grips his hands together until his knuckles turn white. "If you had not arrived when you did, I do not believe I could have kept from injuring her in self-defence."
Spock turns to him, then, and his eyes are so tired and lost that Jim just wants to hug him. He settles for a hand on the arm and says carefully, "You could press charges. There are regulations against what she did." After what Spock's just told him he's half inclined to hunt her down himself. To violate someone not just physically but mentally… he doesn't have words for it. He doubts the girl knew exactly what she was doing to Spock, but she knew he was a Vulcan. That alone should have made her think twice.
But Spock only shakes his head. "I don't want to press charges," he says. "The experience was unpleasant, but it is over now. I'd prefer not to dwell on the subject."
Jim bites his tongue on the instinctive urge to argue. This is Spock's decision, not his. "Are you sure?" he asks instead.
Spock nods. "I think… I'd like to go on as though it never happened."
Jim can understand that urge. "Okay," he says, "but if you change your mind I'm behind you 110%."
"That is impossible," Spock replies, with a hint of his old humour. "One cannot give more than 100%."
Jim smiles, raising his eyebrows. "You haven't seen me in action."
Carefully, half-afraid that Spock might bolt, he shifts closer until he is pressed against Spock's side. He isn't quite brave enough to put an arm around him - even this seems like pushing his luck - but to his surprise and amazement Spock not only accepts the touch but leans into it.
They stay like that for a very long time.
* * * * *
Spock finds himself requiring a greater-than-usual amount of meditation over the next few days, which is hampered somewhat by Jim's reluctance to leave him alone. It occurs to Spock that Jim's sudden overprotectiveness is very similar to the same way Spock's mother reacted when she found out the other children were bullying him. It is both annoying and oddly comforting, and he does not quite know how to feel.
Thankfully, after a day or so of hovering, Jim begins to relax and accept Spock's insistence that he is fine and has not been unduly damaged by the situation. It was unpleasant, but it is over, and he would like to move on with his life.
He does, however, make it clear that it will be a long time before he attends another human party.
* * * * *
Spock seems to be dealing fairly well with the situation, all things considered, but Jim still feels a certain amount of protectiveness towards him. The instant his classes are finished on Monday he rushes out and manages to arrive at the labs in time to meet Spock and walk him home.
Spock raises an eyebrow at Jim's presence, but seems happy enough to see him. They fall into step as they have many times before, and Jim smiles as Spock begins to describe the experiment he's working on.
They've only been walking a few minutes when Spock's trails off suddenly, his attention caught by something ahead of them. Jim follows his gaze and groans inwardly as he recognises Finnegan and two of his cronies.
"Well, look who it is," Finnegan says mockingly. "Little Jimmy and his pet Vulcan."
Jim grits his teeth. It's one thing for Finnegan to insult him, but Spock shouldn't have to hear this. But of course, he thinks bitterly, that's the point. Finnegan, for all his faults, isn't totally stupid, and he's learned that he can get a better response by insulting people Jim cares about than he can by insulting Jim alone.
"I must admit," Finnegan says, "I'm surprised to see you two looking so chummy." He indicates the large, brown-haired boy on his left. "Joe here says he saw you fighting over a girl just a few days ago."
Jim glances at Spock and to his dismay sees that his face has gone expressionless, a sign that the barb has hit home. Protectiveness wells up inside Jim and his hands clench involuntarily into fists. "Shut up, Finnegan," he spits.
But Finnegan has sensed he's found a sore spot and isn't about to back down. He shakes his head, smiling nastily. "Protecting your boyfriend, Jimmy? That's sweet. Too bad he won't appreciate it. Everyone knows Vulcans don't have feelings." He glances at Spock and adds loudly, "Isn't that right, you pointy-eared freak?"
With that Jim's control finally snaps and he punches Finnegan right in the nose.
He feels a brief satisfaction as Finnegan stumbles backwards, clutching his bleeding nose, but then his two friends step forward menacingly and Jim realises he might have bitten off more than he can chew.
"You just made a big mistake," one of them says.
Jim takes a step back, looking for an escape route. "I don't want a fight," he says, but he suspects punching their leader in the face somewhat belies his words.
He ducks as a fist comes at his head, and then blinks as his assailant drops to the ground unconscious. He glances up and sees Spock standing there, looking as though he's cataloguing the whole experience for later study. "What did you-" he starts, but doesn't get any further before the second of Finnegan's cronies charges at Spock, his face red with anger. Without changing expression, Spock grabs the fist coming towards him, then reaches out and grasps the other boy's shoulder. In less than a second, he too is laid on the ground unconscious.
Of course, Jim thinks. The Vulcan nerve pinch. He's never seen it in action before. He doesn't get the chance to contemplate it further, however, as just then a voice rings out. "What the hell is going on here?"
It's one of the instructors; a tall, dark-haired man bearing commander's stripes. He takes in the scene, then blinks in disbelief. "Spock?"
Spock straightens, looking ever-so-slightly embarrassed. "Commander Pike."
"He attacked me!" Finnegan says, pointing at Jim with his free hand, the other one still clutching his nose. "And then the other one nearly killed my friends."
"I employed the nerve pinch," Spock puts in quietly. "They are unharmed, and should regain consciousness shortly." He clasps his hands behind his back. "In addition, Cadet Kirk's 'attack' as Cadet Finnegan calls it was the result of severe provocation."
Pike looks at each of them in turn, then at the two lying on the floor, and gives an audible sigh. "Go to the infirmary," he tells Finnegan. "I'll speak with you later." He glances down and adds, "Your friends will be there shortly."
As Finnegan begins walking away, Pike turns to Jim and Spock. "I want to see both of you in my office," he says, and the expression on his face brooks no argument. "I'll be there as soon as I've seen these two to the infirmary."
"Yes, sir," Spock says, and Jim echoes him, barely audible. The adrenaline is wearing off, and all he can think of is that he's in serious trouble. He's only been here two months and he's already been caught fighting. It doesn't bode well for the rest of his career.
Silently he follows Spock across the grass to the Zefram Cochrane building. He's so lost in thought that he's startled when Spock abruptly breaks the silence.
"You struck him because he insulted me," Spock says. He sounds almost curious.
"He had it coming," Jim mutters. He doesn't really want to talk about this, about the fact that one loss of temper might have just cost him his future.
Spock is silent for a moment before he says haltingly, "While I do not condone violence, I cannot deny that I am… grateful for your support. It is not something I have often experienced in the past."
Jim gives him a sidelong look, but he's staring ahead at the building. "That's what friends are for," he says. "And you stopped those guys from flattening me, so I'd say we're even."
Spock glances at him, looking as though he's trying to figure something out. But all he says is, "Indeed."
They fall both fall silent, but as they enter the building and make their way to Pike's office, Jim finds himself feeling a little more optimistic.
"So how do you know Commander Pike?" he asks, as they make their way down the hallway to his office.
"He is my advisor," Spock replies.
Jim winces, imagining how he'd feel if it was his own advisor who'd caught them. "What's he like?"
"He is a good man," Spock replies. It's apparently all he's willing to say on the matter.
They're kept hanging around outside Pike's office for around fifteen minutes before he arrives and ushers them in.
He sits down behind the desk, while Jim and Spock remain standing. "Right," he says. "I've heard Mister Finnegan's side of the story, now I want to hear yours."
Spock launches into a speech before Jim can even draw a breath. "Approximately nineteen point seven minutes ago, Cadet Kirk and I were making our way across campus when we found our path blocked by Cadet Finnegan and his two associates. He began to make xenophobic remarks towards my person, clearly attempting to provoke a reaction. After several of these remarks, Kirk became angered and struck him once in the face. Finnegan's associates attempted to retaliate, and would have severely injured Kirk if I had not employed the nerve pinch. And it was at that point, sir, that you arrived." He stares at the wall and adds, "In addition, sir, I would like to note that Finnegan has been intentionally provoking Kirk for some time, and yet this is the first time he has fought back in any way."
"I see," Pike says. His gaze flicks to Jim. "And you agree with this story?"
"Yes, sir," Jim says, then finds he can't leave it at that. "I'm sorry, sir. I know I shouldn't have hit him. I just… I couldn't let him insult Spock like that. I swear it won't happen again."
"It better not," Pike says, then sighs. "Look. I've been looking into Mister Finnegan's record, and I'm inclined to believe you when you say you were provoked. But that does not make it acceptable to go around punching people." He glances at Spock and narrows his eyes. "Or nerve-pinching them, for that matter." He lays his hands flat on the desk as he concludes, "You both have spotless records, so I'm going to let you go with a warning. But if I hear about anything like this happening again, I'll come down on you like a ton of bricks. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," Jim replies instantly, feeling a huge rush of relief. Beside him, Spock echoes the words.
"Right," Pike says. "In that case, Spock, you're free to go. Mister Kirk, if you would remain behind a few minutes?"
Spock looks puzzled, but obeys. Jim watches him go with a certain amount of apprehension.
Once they're alone, Pike gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. "Take a seat," he says.
Jim sits down obediently, clasping his hands in his lap.
Pike studies him for a long moment. "You know," he says quietly, "there aren't many people who'd risk themselves to defend a Vulcan."
It isn't quite a question, but Jim answers anyway. "He's my friend."
To his surprise, something in Pike's expression warms at the words. "I'm glad," he says. "Sometimes I think he needs more friends."
He moves back to business before Jim has a chance to respond. "Spock said Finnegan had been harassing you for some time. Is that true?"
Jim considers the question, then gives a cautious nod.
"Why didn't you tell anyone?"
Jim shrugs, staring at the desk. "I thought I could deal with it on my own." Deep in his mind, memories far worse than anything Finnegan could throw at him threaten to surface. He shoves them back, face kept carefully blank.
Pike studies him for a moment. "I looked up your records," he says, and Jim's heart skips a beat at the thought that he knows. But, no, he reminds himself. That part of his records is private. This must be about something else.
Sure enough, Pike continues with, "You're George Kirk's son."
Jim nods, forcing himself to relax. He's already come across several people who want to talk to him about his father, and it's certainly a much more pleasant subject than his previous thoughts. "Yes, sir," he says quietly.
"I served under him on the Endeavour," Pike says. "He'd tell anyone who'd listen about his sons, and how proud he was of them." He smiles, suddenly. "If you're half the man he thought you'd be, you're going to be a hell of a captain someday."
Jim smiles, the first real smile since he met Spock outside the labs. Strange to think that was less than an hour ago. "Thank you, sir," he says.
Somewhere, deep down, he suspects that Pike isn't quite as disapproving of his actions towards Finnegan as he makes out. Briefly, Jim flashes back to Spock's words about no one ever sticking up for him and wonders if maybe he's not the only one who's noticed.
He leaves Pike's office with the assurance that his Starfleet career is secure, but with the feeling that he's more out of his depth than ever.
* * *
Jim doesn't know what Pike might have said to Finnegan, but he and Spock are left alone from then on. The fight seems to have brought about a new understanding between them and, while up till now it has been Jim who made most of the overtures in their friendship, he can't go two days without Spock suggesting some new point of interest or activity to do together. The whole situation seems to have added a new depth to their friendship, and Jim revels in it.
And if he sometimes thinks about how it would feel to touch those pointed ears, or see what lies under that spotless academy uniform, well, it doesn't have to mean anything at all.
Next
Pairing: Kirk/Spock, mentions of others
Rating: PG-13
Summary: As he begins his second year at Starfleet Academy, Spock has all but given up on finding acceptance from his fellow students, convincing himself he's better off alone. First-year cadet Jim Kirk makes it his mission to change that, and ends up succeeding in ways neither of them thought possible.
Words: ~8100/31500
Warnings: Sexual assault
When Jim first made the decision to befriend Spock, he naturally assumed it would require some degree of effort. Vulcans, after all, are not exactly known for their warm and friendly personalities, and he'd imagined a long, drawn-out process, involving many doomed attempts to define the human concept of 'friendship' in logical terms.
As it turns out, it isn't like that at all. Far from scorning Jim's attempts at friendship, Spock welcomes them, albeit with the slight awkwardness that speaks of unfamiliarity with the concept. And it goes both ways; the more Jim gets to know Spock, the more he likes him. He may be quiet and reserved, but he's also smart, and kind, and surprisingly funny.
And, like Jim, he's just a little bit broken.
Spock's admission about his father made Jim grateful for his own parents' support; Sam's rejection hurt badly enough, he can't imagine what Spock must be going through. Then he learns a little more about Spock's past and realises that's just the tip of the iceberg.
A little over a week after their first private chess game, he convinces Spock to come over and watch a movie. It was one of Jim's favourites as a kid, and he's looking forward to sharing it with Spock, so he's mildly annoyed when Spock mentions he has already seen it.
"When?" Jim asks.
Spock gives him that slightly confused look that says he still isn't entirely comfortable with human eccentricities. "My mother showed it to me when I was a child."
Jim stares at him. "Vulcans watch The Wizard of Oz?"
A very strange look crosses Spock's face, then, and he just stares at Jim as if trying to figure something out. Finally, after a long moment, he glances away and says quietly, "My mother is not Vulcan."
Jim blinks, and it takes physical effort to keep his jaw from dropping. "Really?" For all he's learned about Spock these last few weeks he would never have guessed he was anything but fully Vulcan.
Spock still isn't looking at him. "Yes." Before Jim can ask the obvious question, he adds, "She is human."
Jim is silent for a moment, trying to process that. "So you're half-human?" He didn't even know that was possible.
Spock nods, and Jim notices that he's gone tense, as if he expects Jim to react badly to the news. Jim wonders if that's happened to him before and has to force down a surge of anger at the thought. "Well, I think that's neat," he says. "Makes you special. Unique."
Spock glances at him, looking a fraction less tense. "Most people view it as a negative." He sounds almost curious.
Jim shrugs. "Not me." He studies Spock for a few seconds, then adds quietly, "Did… do people treat you badly because of it?"
For a moment Jim thinks Spock isn't going to answer, then he draws in a sharp breath and says, "My classmates on Vulcan were not entirely… impressed with the idea."
He doesn't elaborate, but Jim has enough imagination to guess what kinds of things lie in the gaps of that sentence. "Well, they're idiots," he says firmly. "You're one of the best people I've ever met, and you shouldn't let anyone tell you otherwise."
Spock stares at him. "You truly believe that." It's said as though Spock can't believe it, and the idea brings a lump to Jim's throat. He nods.
Spock looks at him for a moment longer, then abruptly turns away and busies himself with setting up the movie. But as they settle down to watch, Jim notices the tension in Spock's shoulders is gone.
* * * * *
Spock has never considered his life lacking before. He likes being alone, focusing on his own tasks, his own problems, his own solutions. But he is learning that time spent with Jim can be equally rewarding. Jim does not judge him; he accepts whatever Spock is willing to give, and so makes Spock want to give more.
He even accepts the reveal of Spock's human ancestry without judgement or condemnation, something Spock had not believed possible.
As the weeks pass he finds himself spending more and more time with Jim and less time alone. On several occasions they meet up with some of Jim's other friends, but more often it is just the two of them. And, if Spock is honest, he prefers it that way.
Spock is so wrapped up in their new friendship that he is mildly surprised when, during a weekly chess match, Jim states that he will have to cancel their plans to get together the next day.
"May I ask why?" Spock asks.
A faint blush appears on Jim's cheeks. "I… well, actually I have a date."
Spock considers that for a moment. He has deliberately kept himself free of romantic entanglements, but there is no reason for Jim to do the same. And it is difficult to miss the effect Jim seems to have on some of their female acquaintances. "Indeed," he says. "Who is she?"
Jim smiles, looking a little amused. "He is called Anton. He's in my Federation History class."
Spock stops in the middle of picking up a knight, taking a moment to process that statement. "I did not realise you were homosexual." He knew such things were common among humans, of course, but it is still surprising to hear Jim speak so candidly about it.
"Bisexual, actually," Jim corrects. Then he tenses, narrowing his eyes at Spock. "Is that a problem?"
"No," Spock replies instantly. The information may have come as a surprise, but Jim's choice of partners is his own business.
Jim relaxes. "Good." He fiddles with the edge of the table. "I didn't know how Vulcans felt about… stuff like that."
"Vulcans believe in IDIC," Spock replies, choosing to ignore the fact that his own childhood does not exactly bear that out. "Infinite diversity in infinite combinations, all of them worthy of respect."
Jim nods. "But you don't engage in such relationships yourselves?"
Spock gives him a blank look. "That would not be logical."
Jim looks for a moment as if he wants to argue, but appears to think better of it. "No," he says softly. "I guess it wouldn't be." He gestures at Spock's hand. "Are you going to do something with that knight?"
Spock realises he is still holding the knight in mid-air and hastily places it back down on the square he was aiming for. They play for a few more moves in silence before Spock's curiosity gets the better of him. "Do your parents know?"
Jim doesn't bother asking what he means, which Spock appreciates. "Yes, and they're fine with it." He shrugs, adding, "My mom told me she dated a few girls before she met my dad, so you could say it runs in the family."
"Indeed," Spock says. He tries, for a moment, to imagine his own father's reaction to such an admission. It is not an appealing thought. "It is fortunate they were so accepting."
Jim shrugs again. "Not really. I wouldn't have told them if I thought they'd have a problem with it. Besides, most people - most humans, I mean - don't care about stuff like that. It's considered a quirk, like people who only date blondes."
It is on the tip of Spock's tongue to ask what importance hair colour could have to the selection of a mate, but he decides that there is likely no satisfactory answer to that question. Instead he tilts his head, studying Jim. "Human society is somewhat fascinating," he says.
"I like to think so," Jim replies, smiling. "But I'm sure Vulcan society is fascinating too."
"I like to think so," Spock deadpans, and raises an eyebrow as Jim bursts out laughing. It is a pleasant sound, and Spock thinks he would like to hear it more often.
Jim manages to calm himself and heaves a sigh, shaking his head fondly. "You know what, Spock?" he says. "I'm really glad I met you."
Spock stares at him, feeling a strange warmth well up in his chest. Part of him wants to tell Jim that he feels the same way, even as the larger, Vulcan part of him cringes away from such blatant feeling.
In the end he says nothing, and the moment passes. But when they say goodnight at the end of the evening, he lays a hand on Jim's arm and leaves it there just a little longer than would be considered strictly acceptable.
From the beaming smile Jim gives him, Spock thinks his message has been understood.
* * *
A few days later, Spock checks his communicator after his computer programming class and is surprised to find a message from Jim. Apparently his Astrophysics class has been cancelled due to illness and he thought Spock might like to meet for lunch. Spock was planning to use the time to catch up on some reading, but it is nothing that cannot wait. He replies with an affirmative, and a few seconds later receives a one word response; Great!
It is illogical, but the message gives him a warm feeling that lasts for several minutes.
Two hours later, he heads across the grounds to the mess hall. As he approaches he sees Jim talking with an older boy. His body language suggests discomfort with the conversation, and Spock finds himself speeding up to intercept them.
As he gets closer he can hear the jeering tone of the older boy's voice, and is struck by a memory of being similarly taunted by his Vulcan classmates. "What's the matter, Jimmy?" the boy says. "Cat got your tongue?"
Jim notices Spock before the other boy does and gives him a look that is half relief and half warning. "Shut up, Finnegan," he says firmly.
The other boy - Finnegan, apparently - just scoffs. "Oh, you'd like that." He shakes his head slowly. "You need to learn your place, Jimmy boy."
"I do not believe it is he who needs to learn his place," Spock says mildly, and Finnegan spins to face him.
"Get lost, pointy ears," he spits. "This is a private conversation."
Spock glances around pointedly at the bustling courtyard. "Hardly."
Finnegan takes a step forward, into Spock's personal space. The proximity is unpleasant, but Spock stands his ground, meeting Finnegan's eyes squarely. For a moment they just stare at each other, then Finnegan steps back, rolling his eyes. "Screw this," he says. "I've got better things to do."
He turns to Jim and gives him a mocking smile. "I'll leave you and your boyfriend alone for now, but don't think this is over." With that he strides away.
Jim watches him leave, then turns to Spock with a slightly wan smile. "Thanks," he says, "but I could have handled it."
Spock studies him for a long moment, drawing some rather unpleasant conclusions. "He has taunted you before." It isn't a question.
Jim shrugs, looking defensive. "I told you, I can handle it." He turns away, muttering darkly, "I've had worse."
He clearly didn't intend Spock to hear that last part. Spock doesn't comment on it, but files it away in the corner of his mind labelled "Jim Kirk". For all his supposed openness, Jim is still something of an enigma, and even after weeks of study Spock does not feel any closer to figuring out how his mind works.
Jim calms down somewhat once they've selected their food and found a place to sit. "I'm sorry about before," he says, fiddling absently with his fork. "Finnegan's an asshole. I hope he didn't make you uncomfortable."
"I am fine," Spock replies, before his curiosity gets the better of him. "Why is he so intent on provoking you?"
Jim shrugs. "I don't know. He's been trying to get a rise out of me for weeks. Mostly I just try to ignore him." He smiles briefly. "Sometimes I imagine punching him in his smug face, but I'd never actually do it." He shakes his head and adds, "But I don't want to talk about him anymore. How was your programming class?"
Spock gives him a quick run through of what he learned that week, before their conversation on Tuesday comes back to him. "It occurs to me that I have been somewhat remiss in not asking how your date went."
To his surprise, Jim just shrugs. "It was all right, I suppose." He prods at his food, frowning. "He's a nice guy and all, but he's a little… vacant. I want someone who challenges me; who makes me think."
Spock tilts his head, considering. Once again Jim has surprised him. He supposes he should get used to that. "Logical," he says. "You are a very intelligent individual; it is only natural that you would seek out a partner who is likewise."
Jim gives him a quick smile. "Thanks," he says. "That means a lot." He shifts slightly in his seat and changes the subject. "How's your food?"
Spock looks down at the vegetable lasagne he is consuming, trying to find something diplomatic to say. "It is edible."
Jim wrinkles his nose. "Yeah, the food here isn't great, is it?"
Spock blinks, surprised at the knowledge that Jim has so easily picked up on his distaste. He must be slipping if his emotions are visible to humans. He thinks darkly that his father would not approve.
"It is somewhat bland," he admits slowly.
Jim grins. "That's one of your Vulcan understatements?" Before Spock can respond, he adds, "Usually I go off-campus. There's a restaurant just a few blocks from here that does the most amazing burgers."
"I am vegetarian," Spock replies.
Jim shrugs. "They do veggie burgers too." He leans forward and adds, "I'll have to take you there sometime."
"That should be interesting," Spock says mildly.
Jim laughs.
* * *
It is not long after that that Spock receives a message from his mother. She and his father are coming to Earth, and she would like to see him. It is not the first such message she has sent, and Spock considers it for a long time, imagining telling her about his experiences at the academy, about the chess club, about Jim. He imagines she would be pleased to know he has found a friend.
If it were just her, he would not hesitate to arrange a meeting, but he does not trust her not to bring along his father in some pretence of family unity. Even now the pain of his father's rejection still stings, and he shudders as he imagines Sarek's reaction to Jim, to their growing friendship. No amount of filial devotion is worth that.
In the end he deletes the message without replying, and spends the rest of the night in meditation.
It doesn't help.
* * *
Several weeks later, they are sitting in Spock's room, studying, when Jim says abruptly, "Are you doing anything for Halloween?"
Spock looks up from his essay on the history of warp drive to give him a puzzled look. "Halloween?"
Jim looks at him incredulously for a moment. "You don't know?"
Spock shakes his head.
"Well, it's a holiday, celebrated on October 31st, where people dress up in costumes and try to scare each other. Kids go out in costume and get candy, but adults mostly just use it as an excuse for a party."
Spock blinks. "And what is the purpose of this holiday?"
Jim frowns. "I'm not sure, actually. I think it has something to do with remembering the dead."
Spock stares at him for a long moment, wondering if this is one of those human 'pranks' he has heard about. "That may be the most illogical thing I have ever heard."
Jim grins. "Yeah, it must sound pretty strange. But it's fun." He stretches his arms above his head. "The reason I asked was because some guys I know are throwing a party, and I wondered if you'd like to come."
Spock considers that. "Would I be required to wear a costume?"
"Well, you could put on a hat and claim you were going as a human." At Spock's unamused look he adds, "I'm sure we can think of something."
"What are you wearing?" Spock asks, suddenly curious.
Jim smiles. "I'm going as Abraham Lincoln."
Spock flicks through his memory for the name. "President of the United States of America from 1861 until his assassination in 1865."
"That's the one," Jim confirms. "He's one of my heroes." He leans forward and fixes Spock with a look. "So, will you come?"
"It sounds as if it would be an interesting experience," Spock admits. "I shall consider it."
"Great!" Jim says. "And if you do decide to go, I'd be happy to help you find a suitable costume."
* * *
In the end, Spock does decide to go - Jim can be annoyingly persuasive when he wants to be - but he does not need any help on his costume. Jim's plan to dress up as Abraham Lincoln has given him an idea, and he has spent several hours in research in an attempt to ensure his representation of his chosen subject is as accurate as possible.
Jim buzzes his door at precisely 2000, dressed in a black three-piece suit with a stovepipe hat and a somewhat ridiculous fake beard. "What do you think?" he asks.
Spock raises an eyebrow. "Your representation is adequate," he says.
Jim narrows his eyes for a second, then laughs. "I suppose I'll take that as a compliment."
"Where did you get the suit?" Spock asks.
Jim looks down. "Rented it." He sighs, leaning against Spock's desk. "That was the easy part. It took me twenty minutes to do up this blasted bow tie."
The bow tie in question is still slightly crooked, and Spock impulsively reaches out and straightens it.
Jim stares at him, wide-eyed. "Your tie was crooked," Spock explains.
Jim continues staring for a moment, then seems to come to his senses. "Uh, thanks," he says. He waves a hand in Spock's direction. "So, what's your costume? It looks very… Vulcan."
Spock smoothes down his robes again. "My costume is intended to represent Surak, the father of logic."
Jim's eyes light up. "I read about him. That's the man who convinced your society to choose logic and emotional control over chaos, right?"
Spock nods. "That is correct. He is highly revered among our people."
Jim smiles. "He's one of your heroes. Like Lincoln is mine."
Spock looks away, the look in Jim's eyes making him feel slightly uncomfortable. "In a manner of speaking, yes."
When he glances up again Jim is still smiling. "Come on," he says. "Let's go show off our costumes."
They arrive at the party a short while later to find it in full swing. Spock looks around as they make their way through the crowd. The sheer variety and assortment of costumes is somewhat impressive. There are people dressed as supernatural creatures, fictional characters, historical figures - including, to Jim's slight annoyance, another Lincoln - animals, and other sentient species such as Andorians and Caitians.
"Hey, man, great Vulcan costume!" says a voice from behind him. Spock can see Jim trying not to laugh as he turns around. The male human in possession of the voice seems to already be slightly intoxicated, and he reaches out a hand towards Spock's face. "Can I touch your ears?"
"No, you may not," Spock tells him sharply.
The boy rolls his eyes. "What, are you gonna nerve pinch me?"
Spock briefly considers it, especially when the boy makes another grab for his ears. Spock evades his grasp and barks, "My ears are not part of my costume, and I do not wish for you to touch them!"
He turns before the boy can respond and begins pushing his way firmly through the crowd. Behind him he can hear one of the boy's friends saying, "That was a real Vulcan, idiot!"
Jim appears beside him as he arrives at the refreshment table. "I'm sorry," he says. "I should have guessed that might happen."
Spock grips his hands together firmly. "It was not your fault." The situation has unsettled him and he barely keeps from flinching when Jim lays a hand on his arm.
"Do you want to leave?" Jim asks.
Spock's immediate reaction is to say yes, but after a few moments of thought he shakes his head. It would not be fair to Jim, and they have both spent too long on their costumes to leave after less than five minutes.
Jim gives him a comforting smile and squeezes his arm. "Okay, but just tell me if you do."
Spock nods again. "I will do so."
Jim turns and surveys the table. "I don't know about you, but I could do with a drink."
He ends up getting a root beer, while Spock has a glass of water. They stick to the outskirts for a while; Spock assumes this is Jim's way of trying to protect him from any more drunken humans. But soon enough Jim is drawn into a discussion with several friends about some piece of Earth culture Spock has little interest in, and he decides to take the opportunity to visit the facilities.
On his way back he is waylaid by a dark-haired girl wearing a green tunic and matching hat, with a quiver of arrows across her back. It takes him a moment to recognise Lauren. "Spock! Hi!" she says.
He tilts his head. "Lauren." He finds it is somewhat pleasing to see her. They have played chess on two more occasions since that first time, and she is improving at a great rate. She is not a friend on the level of Jim, but he thinks they could work well together if they were to be assigned to the same ship in the future.
"I'm Robin Hood," Lauren says, gesturing to her clothing.
"Indeed," Spock agrees. He remembers the character from the books his mother used to read him. "Where did you get the arrows?"
"Archery club," Lauren replies, then claps a hand to her forehead. "Damn, I think I left my bow at the snack table."
"You mean this?" Another girl, dressed as the common human image of an angel, appears at their side holding a bow.
Lauren seizes it happily. "Yes, thank you! You really are an angel."
The other girl laughs. "Yeah, yeah. I bet you say that to all the girls." She looks Spock up and down before asking, "Who's your friend?"
Lauren smiles. "This is Spock. From Chess Club?"
The other girl nods. "Oh, right." She shrugs. "Chess isn't really my game. Archery, now that's something worth training for."
Lauren rolls her eyes. "Spock, this is Millie, my girlfriend. She's about the only person I know who's a bigger archery geek than me."
Millie wraps an arm around Lauren's shoulders and grins. "And proud of it!" She gestures at Spock's outfit with her free hand. "Who're you meant to be?"
Spock straightens slightly. "My costume is intended to represent the Vulcan philosopher Surak."
Millie doesn't look particularly impressed. "Huh. Well, you've got the ears for it." At that point a new song comes on and she bounces on her toes. "Oh, I love this song. Come on, Lauren!" She pulls her arm off Lauren's shoulder and grabs her hand. "See you later, Speck!"
Lauren gives him a wave and a slightly apologetic look as she is dragged off. He can hear her whispering, "It's Spock, not Speck," and Millie's dismissive, "Yeah, yeah. Let's dance!"
Within seconds they are gone and Spock is standing alone in the middle of a crowd of humans. He heads over to where he left Jim, but his friend is no longer there. He tries asking several of the people around him if they know where he went, but none of them do.
Spock glances around him, frowning. He and Jim did not make any plans for what to do if they were separated, and there are enough people around that the chances of finding him with a simple search are remote. Briefly, he regrets leaving his communicator in his room.
Trying to think logically, he checks the refreshment tables, then the restrooms. Jim is not there. With a lack of better options, Spock decides to head outside. He could use some fresh air anyway.
Steeling himself against the touch of unfamiliar minds, he begins making his way through the crowd to the door.
* * * * *
Jim is so caught up in his friends' discussion of the latest Luke Justice episode that it takes him a while to notice that Spock hasn't come back from the restroom. Jim is about to go looking for him when Alison Harris, a pretty brunette dressed as a nurse, appears in front of him and asks him to dance. Jim has admired her from afar for several weeks, and almost trips over himself saying yes.
He'll look for Spock later.
Alison is a wonderful dancer, but somehow being close to her isn't as amazing as he imagined. He keeps thinking of Spock, of how he reacted when that drunk idiot tried to touch his ears. One thing he's learned over the past weeks is that Spock is intensely touch-avoidant and a classic introvert, neither of which are helpful traits when navigating a standard human party.
After a few minutes the worry about Spock becomes too great and he gently extricates himself from Alison's grasp. "I'm sorry," he says. "This was great, but I have to go find a friend of mine."
She looks confused, and a little hurt. "Okay, fine," she says. "Guess I'll just find someone else."
He gives her an awkward smile, and inwardly curses his luck. "I really am sorry," he says, before turning and making his way through the crowd.
Spock isn't in the restroom, nor is he anywhere else that Jim checks. After exhausting his list of options, Jim heads outside, thinking that maybe Spock wanted some air.
He makes it outside a few moments later and looks around. He sees several couples making out, and one guy throwing up behind a bush, but no Spock. At least, that's what he thinks until he looks harder and realises that one of the couples includes Spock.
His first reaction is anger - anger that he was so worried about Spock when he was out here making out with some girl dressed like a cat - but then he realises that Spock's body language is all wrong for a romantic interlude. He's pressed against the wall of the building, and his hands are flat against the girl's shoulders, as if he's trying to push her away.
Jim's anger changes to a different kind and he rushes over there and tears the girl away. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demands. "Get off him!"
"Just trying to loosen him up," the girl replies, with a slur in her speech that indicates she's been drinking quite heavily. "Thought maybe he wouldn't be so uptight if he got some action."
Jim's free hand clenches involuntarily into a fist. "Get lost," he says through gritted teeth. "Now."
Some of what he's feeling must show on his face as the girl takes one look and hurries away, nearly tripping over her fake tail in her haste.
Jim takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself before turning to Spock, who is still leaning against the wall. "Are you okay?"
As soon as he's said it he wants to take the words back. Of course Spock isn't okay; he's just been assaulted. Jim reaches out to touch his arm, then pulls back, wondering if his touch will even be welcome right now.
Spock draws in a sharp breath and straightens up, expression blanker than Jim has ever seen it. "I believe I would like to leave now," he says.
"O-of course," Jim says. "I'll walk you back to your room."
Jim keeps sneaking glances at Spock as they walk, wondering how on Earth he's going to deal with this.
To his surprise, it's Spock who speaks first. "I could have stopped her." His head is bent, eyes scanning the ground.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me," Jim replies quickly. "What she did wasn't okay, and it wasn't your fault." Something occurs to him, then, and he adds, "I was right, back there? Her… advances were unwelcome?"
Spock nods, the barest movement of his head. "Very much so," he replies quietly, and the emptiness in his tone makes Jim ache.
"I'm sorry," he blurts, struggling for something to say. "I shouldn't have left you alone."
Spock looks at him for the first time since they left the party, his face a mask of incomprehension. "It was not your fault."
"But I'm still sorry." Trusting his instincts, Jim reaches out and lightly touches Spock's arm. "If there's anything I can do, just name it."
Spock looks down at the hand, but he doesn't pull away. "I shall do so," he says, and Jim notes with relief that his voice is a shade less empty.
It doesn't take them long to make it back to Spock's building and a few minutes after that Jim is hovering awkwardly in the doorway of Spock's room, watching as he makes his way over to an incense burner and lights up a stick.
"Is there anything I can do?" he asks, suddenly very aware that he's still dressed like Lincoln. He hastily pulls off the stupid beard and hat and takes a step towards Spock, who is staring at the incense as though he doesn't know what to do next.
"I require meditation," Spock says, without turning around.
"Oh." Jim glances behind him at the door. "Do you want me to leave?"
Spock does turn around then. He stares at Jim for a long moment, appearing to consider the question. "No," he says finally. "You can stay." He turns back to the incense burner and adds quietly, "You may find it somewhat boring, however."
"That's not an issue," Jim assures him.
Spock nods, then settles himself on his knees and steeples his fingers. After a moment he goes still, and Jim can almost see him retreat into his mind.
Without taking his eyes off Spock, Jim pulls out a chair and sits down. He doesn't know much about Vulcan meditation, apart from the fact that it's apparently much more vital to their wellbeing than the human kind, but watching Spock he finds himself curious. He wonders if Spock would be willing to teach him some of it.
Spock is like a statue, and as the minutes pass he finds his attention drawn to his friend's profile; hair cut to precision length over his forehead, eyelashes falling over his cheek, lips that are strangely pink, considering the colour of Vulcan blood, and of course those elegantly pointed ears.
It dawns on him then that Spock is actually quite attractive. He was so focused on being Spock's friend that he never stopped to think about it before, but looking at him now it hits him like a blow to the solar plexus.
Jim looks away quickly, feeling his cheeks heat up. Even if Spock weren't entirely uninterested in guys, this is just about the worst possible moment to develop a crush. He glances around for something to distract himself and sees the copy of H.G. Wells's The Time Machine that he lent Spock a few days ago. Jim's already read it, several times, but right now he doesn't care. Anything to keep him from more inappropriate thoughts.
He's just at the part where the Traveller meets the Morlocks, when he becomes aware of a presence at his shoulder and realises Spock has finished his meditation.
Jim closes the book and gives him a warm smile. To his relief, Spock looks considerably less blank than before, the tiny tell-tale signs of emotion that Jim has become so used to now clearly visible. "Hey," he says. "Feeling better?"
"I seem to have regained my equilibrium," Spock says, which Jim takes as a yes. He goes to sit down on the bed and Jim follows, watching as Spock clasps his hands in his lap and stares at them.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Jim asks softly.
"No," Spock replies bluntly. "But I shall do so regardless." He takes a deep breath and clasps his hands on his knees. "I couldn't find you at the party," he begins, and Jim feels a twinge of guilt as he thinks of Alison. "I thought perhaps you had gone outside." He glances over at the far wall. "It was a tempting thought, as the music and number of people were beginning to give me a headache."
Jim shifts a little closer, but doesn't interrupt. Spock continues to stare at the wall. "I went outside and looked around, but you were not there. I was about to go back inside when a girl came up to me. She was swaying on her feet and appeared intoxicated. I asked if she needed help. She asked me what help I was offering." A very faint blush colours his cheeks. "She then suggested that… I could assist her in a sexual way. When I informed her that Vulcans do not engage in casual sexual relations she said..." he trails off briefly, then continues, "…that that explained why they were so uptight, and that clearly I was in need of being 'loosened up'."
Jim's chest is beginning to ache again. "And then she kissed you," he ventures, when Spock doesn't continue.
Spock nods. "I attempted to stop her, but I was pressed against the wall and could not escape." He takes in a sharp breath. "I could feel her emotions through the contact. Lust, triumph, but not a shred of remorse. She did not care that she was violating me." He grips his hands together until his knuckles turn white. "If you had not arrived when you did, I do not believe I could have kept from injuring her in self-defence."
Spock turns to him, then, and his eyes are so tired and lost that Jim just wants to hug him. He settles for a hand on the arm and says carefully, "You could press charges. There are regulations against what she did." After what Spock's just told him he's half inclined to hunt her down himself. To violate someone not just physically but mentally… he doesn't have words for it. He doubts the girl knew exactly what she was doing to Spock, but she knew he was a Vulcan. That alone should have made her think twice.
But Spock only shakes his head. "I don't want to press charges," he says. "The experience was unpleasant, but it is over now. I'd prefer not to dwell on the subject."
Jim bites his tongue on the instinctive urge to argue. This is Spock's decision, not his. "Are you sure?" he asks instead.
Spock nods. "I think… I'd like to go on as though it never happened."
Jim can understand that urge. "Okay," he says, "but if you change your mind I'm behind you 110%."
"That is impossible," Spock replies, with a hint of his old humour. "One cannot give more than 100%."
Jim smiles, raising his eyebrows. "You haven't seen me in action."
Carefully, half-afraid that Spock might bolt, he shifts closer until he is pressed against Spock's side. He isn't quite brave enough to put an arm around him - even this seems like pushing his luck - but to his surprise and amazement Spock not only accepts the touch but leans into it.
They stay like that for a very long time.
* * * * *
Spock finds himself requiring a greater-than-usual amount of meditation over the next few days, which is hampered somewhat by Jim's reluctance to leave him alone. It occurs to Spock that Jim's sudden overprotectiveness is very similar to the same way Spock's mother reacted when she found out the other children were bullying him. It is both annoying and oddly comforting, and he does not quite know how to feel.
Thankfully, after a day or so of hovering, Jim begins to relax and accept Spock's insistence that he is fine and has not been unduly damaged by the situation. It was unpleasant, but it is over, and he would like to move on with his life.
He does, however, make it clear that it will be a long time before he attends another human party.
* * * * *
Spock seems to be dealing fairly well with the situation, all things considered, but Jim still feels a certain amount of protectiveness towards him. The instant his classes are finished on Monday he rushes out and manages to arrive at the labs in time to meet Spock and walk him home.
Spock raises an eyebrow at Jim's presence, but seems happy enough to see him. They fall into step as they have many times before, and Jim smiles as Spock begins to describe the experiment he's working on.
They've only been walking a few minutes when Spock's trails off suddenly, his attention caught by something ahead of them. Jim follows his gaze and groans inwardly as he recognises Finnegan and two of his cronies.
"Well, look who it is," Finnegan says mockingly. "Little Jimmy and his pet Vulcan."
Jim grits his teeth. It's one thing for Finnegan to insult him, but Spock shouldn't have to hear this. But of course, he thinks bitterly, that's the point. Finnegan, for all his faults, isn't totally stupid, and he's learned that he can get a better response by insulting people Jim cares about than he can by insulting Jim alone.
"I must admit," Finnegan says, "I'm surprised to see you two looking so chummy." He indicates the large, brown-haired boy on his left. "Joe here says he saw you fighting over a girl just a few days ago."
Jim glances at Spock and to his dismay sees that his face has gone expressionless, a sign that the barb has hit home. Protectiveness wells up inside Jim and his hands clench involuntarily into fists. "Shut up, Finnegan," he spits.
But Finnegan has sensed he's found a sore spot and isn't about to back down. He shakes his head, smiling nastily. "Protecting your boyfriend, Jimmy? That's sweet. Too bad he won't appreciate it. Everyone knows Vulcans don't have feelings." He glances at Spock and adds loudly, "Isn't that right, you pointy-eared freak?"
With that Jim's control finally snaps and he punches Finnegan right in the nose.
He feels a brief satisfaction as Finnegan stumbles backwards, clutching his bleeding nose, but then his two friends step forward menacingly and Jim realises he might have bitten off more than he can chew.
"You just made a big mistake," one of them says.
Jim takes a step back, looking for an escape route. "I don't want a fight," he says, but he suspects punching their leader in the face somewhat belies his words.
He ducks as a fist comes at his head, and then blinks as his assailant drops to the ground unconscious. He glances up and sees Spock standing there, looking as though he's cataloguing the whole experience for later study. "What did you-" he starts, but doesn't get any further before the second of Finnegan's cronies charges at Spock, his face red with anger. Without changing expression, Spock grabs the fist coming towards him, then reaches out and grasps the other boy's shoulder. In less than a second, he too is laid on the ground unconscious.
Of course, Jim thinks. The Vulcan nerve pinch. He's never seen it in action before. He doesn't get the chance to contemplate it further, however, as just then a voice rings out. "What the hell is going on here?"
It's one of the instructors; a tall, dark-haired man bearing commander's stripes. He takes in the scene, then blinks in disbelief. "Spock?"
Spock straightens, looking ever-so-slightly embarrassed. "Commander Pike."
"He attacked me!" Finnegan says, pointing at Jim with his free hand, the other one still clutching his nose. "And then the other one nearly killed my friends."
"I employed the nerve pinch," Spock puts in quietly. "They are unharmed, and should regain consciousness shortly." He clasps his hands behind his back. "In addition, Cadet Kirk's 'attack' as Cadet Finnegan calls it was the result of severe provocation."
Pike looks at each of them in turn, then at the two lying on the floor, and gives an audible sigh. "Go to the infirmary," he tells Finnegan. "I'll speak with you later." He glances down and adds, "Your friends will be there shortly."
As Finnegan begins walking away, Pike turns to Jim and Spock. "I want to see both of you in my office," he says, and the expression on his face brooks no argument. "I'll be there as soon as I've seen these two to the infirmary."
"Yes, sir," Spock says, and Jim echoes him, barely audible. The adrenaline is wearing off, and all he can think of is that he's in serious trouble. He's only been here two months and he's already been caught fighting. It doesn't bode well for the rest of his career.
Silently he follows Spock across the grass to the Zefram Cochrane building. He's so lost in thought that he's startled when Spock abruptly breaks the silence.
"You struck him because he insulted me," Spock says. He sounds almost curious.
"He had it coming," Jim mutters. He doesn't really want to talk about this, about the fact that one loss of temper might have just cost him his future.
Spock is silent for a moment before he says haltingly, "While I do not condone violence, I cannot deny that I am… grateful for your support. It is not something I have often experienced in the past."
Jim gives him a sidelong look, but he's staring ahead at the building. "That's what friends are for," he says. "And you stopped those guys from flattening me, so I'd say we're even."
Spock glances at him, looking as though he's trying to figure something out. But all he says is, "Indeed."
They fall both fall silent, but as they enter the building and make their way to Pike's office, Jim finds himself feeling a little more optimistic.
"So how do you know Commander Pike?" he asks, as they make their way down the hallway to his office.
"He is my advisor," Spock replies.
Jim winces, imagining how he'd feel if it was his own advisor who'd caught them. "What's he like?"
"He is a good man," Spock replies. It's apparently all he's willing to say on the matter.
They're kept hanging around outside Pike's office for around fifteen minutes before he arrives and ushers them in.
He sits down behind the desk, while Jim and Spock remain standing. "Right," he says. "I've heard Mister Finnegan's side of the story, now I want to hear yours."
Spock launches into a speech before Jim can even draw a breath. "Approximately nineteen point seven minutes ago, Cadet Kirk and I were making our way across campus when we found our path blocked by Cadet Finnegan and his two associates. He began to make xenophobic remarks towards my person, clearly attempting to provoke a reaction. After several of these remarks, Kirk became angered and struck him once in the face. Finnegan's associates attempted to retaliate, and would have severely injured Kirk if I had not employed the nerve pinch. And it was at that point, sir, that you arrived." He stares at the wall and adds, "In addition, sir, I would like to note that Finnegan has been intentionally provoking Kirk for some time, and yet this is the first time he has fought back in any way."
"I see," Pike says. His gaze flicks to Jim. "And you agree with this story?"
"Yes, sir," Jim says, then finds he can't leave it at that. "I'm sorry, sir. I know I shouldn't have hit him. I just… I couldn't let him insult Spock like that. I swear it won't happen again."
"It better not," Pike says, then sighs. "Look. I've been looking into Mister Finnegan's record, and I'm inclined to believe you when you say you were provoked. But that does not make it acceptable to go around punching people." He glances at Spock and narrows his eyes. "Or nerve-pinching them, for that matter." He lays his hands flat on the desk as he concludes, "You both have spotless records, so I'm going to let you go with a warning. But if I hear about anything like this happening again, I'll come down on you like a ton of bricks. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," Jim replies instantly, feeling a huge rush of relief. Beside him, Spock echoes the words.
"Right," Pike says. "In that case, Spock, you're free to go. Mister Kirk, if you would remain behind a few minutes?"
Spock looks puzzled, but obeys. Jim watches him go with a certain amount of apprehension.
Once they're alone, Pike gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. "Take a seat," he says.
Jim sits down obediently, clasping his hands in his lap.
Pike studies him for a long moment. "You know," he says quietly, "there aren't many people who'd risk themselves to defend a Vulcan."
It isn't quite a question, but Jim answers anyway. "He's my friend."
To his surprise, something in Pike's expression warms at the words. "I'm glad," he says. "Sometimes I think he needs more friends."
He moves back to business before Jim has a chance to respond. "Spock said Finnegan had been harassing you for some time. Is that true?"
Jim considers the question, then gives a cautious nod.
"Why didn't you tell anyone?"
Jim shrugs, staring at the desk. "I thought I could deal with it on my own." Deep in his mind, memories far worse than anything Finnegan could throw at him threaten to surface. He shoves them back, face kept carefully blank.
Pike studies him for a moment. "I looked up your records," he says, and Jim's heart skips a beat at the thought that he knows. But, no, he reminds himself. That part of his records is private. This must be about something else.
Sure enough, Pike continues with, "You're George Kirk's son."
Jim nods, forcing himself to relax. He's already come across several people who want to talk to him about his father, and it's certainly a much more pleasant subject than his previous thoughts. "Yes, sir," he says quietly.
"I served under him on the Endeavour," Pike says. "He'd tell anyone who'd listen about his sons, and how proud he was of them." He smiles, suddenly. "If you're half the man he thought you'd be, you're going to be a hell of a captain someday."
Jim smiles, the first real smile since he met Spock outside the labs. Strange to think that was less than an hour ago. "Thank you, sir," he says.
Somewhere, deep down, he suspects that Pike isn't quite as disapproving of his actions towards Finnegan as he makes out. Briefly, Jim flashes back to Spock's words about no one ever sticking up for him and wonders if maybe he's not the only one who's noticed.
He leaves Pike's office with the assurance that his Starfleet career is secure, but with the feeling that he's more out of his depth than ever.
* * *
Jim doesn't know what Pike might have said to Finnegan, but he and Spock are left alone from then on. The fight seems to have brought about a new understanding between them and, while up till now it has been Jim who made most of the overtures in their friendship, he can't go two days without Spock suggesting some new point of interest or activity to do together. The whole situation seems to have added a new depth to their friendship, and Jim revels in it.
And if he sometimes thinks about how it would feel to touch those pointed ears, or see what lies under that spotless academy uniform, well, it doesn't have to mean anything at all.
Next