Against All Odds
Spock has never understood Jim’s need to throw himself into the path of danger. As the captain, the logical approach would be to stay back and leave the dangerous missions to less vital crew members. But Jim refuses to listen to logic, and so situations like this happen with unsettling frequency.
Jim is lying unconscious on a bed in sickbay, while Dr McCoy and his staff deal with the rest of the party. Spock, who has only minor injuries, has been given the job of watching over Jim and informing Dr McCoy the instant he regains consciousness.
Jim’s injury means that Spock is currently Acting Captain. Thankfully there are no urgent problems that require his input, as he wishes to remain at Jim’s side. There is an ache in his chest, a feeling he refuses to name, as he stares at the captain. His attachment to Jim is becoming a problem, and Spock can think of only two ways to prevent this. The first is to spend less time with Jim, until he is certain he can control his emotions. The second is to give in and attempt a relationship. The first option is logical. The second… is not. And yet he has been considering the second option for some time now.
He calculates a high probability that Jim will return his interest, but a very low probability that a relationship between them would last for any great length of time. In contrast, his relationship with Nyota had had a much higher chance and had still ultimately been unsuccessful. However, Spock keeps returning to the words of his older self. The description of a friendship that would define them both. The exhortation to put aside logic and do what feels right.
He reaches forward and brushes his fingers against Jim’s. It would not be the first time that they have, as humans say, ‘beaten the odds’. Jim, in particular, seems to be building his career on it. Spock decides that he owes them both that opportunity. There are only a handful of times in his life that he has put emotion ahead of logic, but this shall be one of them.
He will wait until Jim is fully recovered, and then he will find out if he has made the right choice.
* * * * *
Jim picks up a knight and replaces it on the board with a flourish. “Check.”
Their chess games have become a nightly ritual, and it feels good to be getting back to it after spending a night in sickbay. The score currently stands at something like five million to two, but considering Spock was a grandmaster or something at the Academy and Jim mostly plays for fun, he thinks he’s doing quite well. It’s amusing to see Spock’s reaction to some of his more ‘illogical’ moves, but as Jim has pointed out, he’s not likely to win against a Vulcan with the logical approach.
Spock studies the board and then frowns. Well, the Vulcan equivalent of a frown, which is basically a slight lowering of the eyebrows. He makes a move, and Jim sees an opening.
“Hah. Checkmate.” Jim grins. “So that’s what? Five million to three?”
“The current score is seventy-four to three.”
Jim shrugs. He doesn’t actually care about the score; he’s mostly doing this to spend time with Spock. “Well, score one for the illogical approach.”
“Indeed.” Spock begins to put away the pieces. Jim leans back in his chair as he watches. This is the point in the evening where they say goodnight, and Spock returns to his quarters. Jim finds himself wishing that Spock would stay, but squashes the idea down firmly. No good can come of that thought.
Spock finishes packing up his chess set and turns to look at Jim. “I have recently found myself developing an emotional attachment to you,” he says abruptly.
It’s times like this that Jim wishes for some kind of Spock-to-English translator. He can’t be saying what I think he’s saying, can he? Deciding to play it safe, he goes with, “Well, yeah. We’re friends, right?”
“That is not what I meant.”
Before Jim can ask what he did mean, Spock continues, “I wish to know your thoughts on extending our relationship beyond the bounds of friendship.”
Well, that was a little clearer, if completely unexpected. “You mean like… dating?”
“Precisely.”
Jim takes a few seconds to think. He wants this, more than almost anything else, but he has to consider his track record. Chances are that he’ll end up doing something that screws it all up, and then he’ll be left with a first officer who hates him. Which would be less than ideal. On the other hand, Spock has to have considered all of this - because he doesn’t seem to ever make a decision without considering it from about seventeen different angles first. And yet he’s still willing to give it a shot. Jim thinks that maybe there’s a chance that this could work. “I… I’d like that.”
Spock fixes him with a look. “Before we go any further, I must inform you that Vulcans do not enter into relationships lightly.”
That’s a little less unexpected, given everything he knows about Spock. “Okay, so we’ll take it slow. See what happens, yeah?”
Spock’s expression softens, and Jim feels like he’s just passed some kind of test. He stands, and as Spock follows suit, he walks round to the other side of the desk and kisses him. It’s even better than he imagined, and Jim feels a little breathless as he pulls away. Yeah, really gonna try not to screw this up.
Jim is lying unconscious on a bed in sickbay, while Dr McCoy and his staff deal with the rest of the party. Spock, who has only minor injuries, has been given the job of watching over Jim and informing Dr McCoy the instant he regains consciousness.
Jim’s injury means that Spock is currently Acting Captain. Thankfully there are no urgent problems that require his input, as he wishes to remain at Jim’s side. There is an ache in his chest, a feeling he refuses to name, as he stares at the captain. His attachment to Jim is becoming a problem, and Spock can think of only two ways to prevent this. The first is to spend less time with Jim, until he is certain he can control his emotions. The second is to give in and attempt a relationship. The first option is logical. The second… is not. And yet he has been considering the second option for some time now.
He calculates a high probability that Jim will return his interest, but a very low probability that a relationship between them would last for any great length of time. In contrast, his relationship with Nyota had had a much higher chance and had still ultimately been unsuccessful. However, Spock keeps returning to the words of his older self. The description of a friendship that would define them both. The exhortation to put aside logic and do what feels right.
He reaches forward and brushes his fingers against Jim’s. It would not be the first time that they have, as humans say, ‘beaten the odds’. Jim, in particular, seems to be building his career on it. Spock decides that he owes them both that opportunity. There are only a handful of times in his life that he has put emotion ahead of logic, but this shall be one of them.
He will wait until Jim is fully recovered, and then he will find out if he has made the right choice.
* * * * *
Jim picks up a knight and replaces it on the board with a flourish. “Check.”
Their chess games have become a nightly ritual, and it feels good to be getting back to it after spending a night in sickbay. The score currently stands at something like five million to two, but considering Spock was a grandmaster or something at the Academy and Jim mostly plays for fun, he thinks he’s doing quite well. It’s amusing to see Spock’s reaction to some of his more ‘illogical’ moves, but as Jim has pointed out, he’s not likely to win against a Vulcan with the logical approach.
Spock studies the board and then frowns. Well, the Vulcan equivalent of a frown, which is basically a slight lowering of the eyebrows. He makes a move, and Jim sees an opening.
“Hah. Checkmate.” Jim grins. “So that’s what? Five million to three?”
“The current score is seventy-four to three.”
Jim shrugs. He doesn’t actually care about the score; he’s mostly doing this to spend time with Spock. “Well, score one for the illogical approach.”
“Indeed.” Spock begins to put away the pieces. Jim leans back in his chair as he watches. This is the point in the evening where they say goodnight, and Spock returns to his quarters. Jim finds himself wishing that Spock would stay, but squashes the idea down firmly. No good can come of that thought.
Spock finishes packing up his chess set and turns to look at Jim. “I have recently found myself developing an emotional attachment to you,” he says abruptly.
It’s times like this that Jim wishes for some kind of Spock-to-English translator. He can’t be saying what I think he’s saying, can he? Deciding to play it safe, he goes with, “Well, yeah. We’re friends, right?”
“That is not what I meant.”
Before Jim can ask what he did mean, Spock continues, “I wish to know your thoughts on extending our relationship beyond the bounds of friendship.”
Well, that was a little clearer, if completely unexpected. “You mean like… dating?”
“Precisely.”
Jim takes a few seconds to think. He wants this, more than almost anything else, but he has to consider his track record. Chances are that he’ll end up doing something that screws it all up, and then he’ll be left with a first officer who hates him. Which would be less than ideal. On the other hand, Spock has to have considered all of this - because he doesn’t seem to ever make a decision without considering it from about seventeen different angles first. And yet he’s still willing to give it a shot. Jim thinks that maybe there’s a chance that this could work. “I… I’d like that.”
Spock fixes him with a look. “Before we go any further, I must inform you that Vulcans do not enter into relationships lightly.”
That’s a little less unexpected, given everything he knows about Spock. “Okay, so we’ll take it slow. See what happens, yeah?”
Spock’s expression softens, and Jim feels like he’s just passed some kind of test. He stands, and as Spock follows suit, he walks round to the other side of the desk and kisses him. It’s even better than he imagined, and Jim feels a little breathless as he pulls away. Yeah, really gonna try not to screw this up.