Arrangements (Some Brotherly Conversation)
They sit around the coffee table, Sybok across the couch and Spock curled up in the armchair. The kal-toh pieces and board sit between them, and it's Sybok's turn.
Truth is, he's a little rusty, but at least it gives Spock time to enjoy that frosted vanilla cupcake one component at a time.
"I don't know about this doctor," Sybok says, twirling the small steel rod between his fingers. "I read the file you gave me - he has plenty of neural research."
"Therefore?" Spock looks twice as insolence as he sounds, dressed in those striped red pajamas and looking at him as he licks the frosting off.
"Therefore," Sybok leans over to snap the rod in place, "he could get curious. He could try something."
Spock reaches forward, stretching out his arm to finally grab one rod for his own move. "I doubt Leonard is as twisted a neurologist as you expect him to be. You should remember that he is also a human, sa-kai, and is quite incapable of doing anything you can't defend against."
"I heard the Klingons-"
"He isn't a Klingon, either, and you're beginning to sound hysterical."
"Well, maybe I am. But what makes you think he's as pure as a mountain spring? Have you touched his mind?"
Spock pauses, licking the last of the frosting off of the cupcake, then, "No."
Sybok grins. "But you want to." The glare is worth it, really.
"I don't-"
"He's quite handsome, you know, no one would blame you."
"That's enough, sa-kai." Spock leans forward to set the cupcake on the coffee table and the rod back in place, and grabs his communicator off the corner. "When do you want to see him?"
Sybok rolls his wrist in a lazy gesture. "You have your lady-friend time on Wednesday, correct? I wouldn't want to impose on that - how about Thursday? Seven? Does he know where this place is?"
"He will," Spock says, typing into the communicator. "Perhaps you should provide him a sample of your blueberry cobbler."
"What, you want my help luring him into your bed?"
Spock hurls a throw pillow at him, which even against his bare shoulder barely registers. "You're despicable."
"And you're too simple, come now, Spock, what is a great man without a mistress-hey, watch the board!-you know you're not going to win this, Spock-"
"The possibility still remains," Spock huffs out in the middle of trying to elbow him in the chest as they sprawl and grapple across the couch.
Yeah, Sybok knows his brother has a wandering eye, because they all appreciate handsome and beautiful things, but he can't really give Spock any of that. But this temper, this anger-he can siphon that out just like this, and he thinks it lets Spock sleep better, concentrate better. That's really all Sybok can do for him.
Truth is, he's a little rusty, but at least it gives Spock time to enjoy that frosted vanilla cupcake one component at a time.
"I don't know about this doctor," Sybok says, twirling the small steel rod between his fingers. "I read the file you gave me - he has plenty of neural research."
"Therefore?" Spock looks twice as insolence as he sounds, dressed in those striped red pajamas and looking at him as he licks the frosting off.
"Therefore," Sybok leans over to snap the rod in place, "he could get curious. He could try something."
Spock reaches forward, stretching out his arm to finally grab one rod for his own move. "I doubt Leonard is as twisted a neurologist as you expect him to be. You should remember that he is also a human, sa-kai, and is quite incapable of doing anything you can't defend against."
"I heard the Klingons-"
"He isn't a Klingon, either, and you're beginning to sound hysterical."
"Well, maybe I am. But what makes you think he's as pure as a mountain spring? Have you touched his mind?"
Spock pauses, licking the last of the frosting off of the cupcake, then, "No."
Sybok grins. "But you want to." The glare is worth it, really.
"I don't-"
"He's quite handsome, you know, no one would blame you."
"That's enough, sa-kai." Spock leans forward to set the cupcake on the coffee table and the rod back in place, and grabs his communicator off the corner. "When do you want to see him?"
Sybok rolls his wrist in a lazy gesture. "You have your lady-friend time on Wednesday, correct? I wouldn't want to impose on that - how about Thursday? Seven? Does he know where this place is?"
"He will," Spock says, typing into the communicator. "Perhaps you should provide him a sample of your blueberry cobbler."
"What, you want my help luring him into your bed?"
Spock hurls a throw pillow at him, which even against his bare shoulder barely registers. "You're despicable."
"And you're too simple, come now, Spock, what is a great man without a mistress-hey, watch the board!-you know you're not going to win this, Spock-"
"The possibility still remains," Spock huffs out in the middle of trying to elbow him in the chest as they sprawl and grapple across the couch.
Yeah, Sybok knows his brother has a wandering eye, because they all appreciate handsome and beautiful things, but he can't really give Spock any of that. But this temper, this anger-he can siphon that out just like this, and he thinks it lets Spock sleep better, concentrate better. That's really all Sybok can do for him.