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“Mr Kirk, your reading please.”
James T Kirk looked up from his station and smiled, warm brown eyes softening as he turned to the Captain.
“Captain, please, it’s Jim. ‘Mr Kirk’ is so...” he gestured expansively and made a face. The Vulcans nearest to him didn’t stiffen their spines at so blatant a display of emotion, but he knew if they had been even a little less... Vulcan... they would have done.
Spock raised an eyebrow.
“Recalcitrant as ever in your human ways,” he intoned, the glitter in his eyes visible to no-one save Kirk.
The human grinned and began to rattle off the desired co-ordinates. He would count that as a win.
***
Beta shift had just ended; the bridge officers had retired in orderly manner to the nearest rec room. The Captain was now sat at one of the tables near the door, the better to react in case of an emergency.
Currently, however, there was no such event, and so he was deep in discussion with T’Niyo, the communications officer, regarding the linguistic links between Romulan and certain human languages, most notably historical Mayan.
The First Officer was sitting quietly opposite them, leant back against the hull, just out of the Lieutenant’s line of sight. He was engrossed in an old-fashioned paper book and projecting an air of utter obliviousness to all going on around him.
He absently licked a finger and turned a page.
Spock spared him a glance, but his First seemed completely oblivious to what he had done. Well, not everyone could be constantly aware of their own actions, especially given Kirk’s unfortunate human constitution. He continued his conversation with the Lieutenant with barely a pause.
She had just begun an exceedingly fascinating recount of the semantic similarities between Romulan and the old Earth language known as Hungarian, when Kirk chose to turn another page. This time the lick was more thoughtful. Spock felt his heart rate increase 24.8% in speed, but otherwise displayed total detachment from the scene before him.
The next page must have been shorter. He calculated that it had been no more than 64 seconds before Kirk again felt the need to flaunt himself so wantonly in front of half the Alpha crew. Spock felt his breath catch in his throat involuntarily. His First Officer looked up for the briefest second, long lashes framing sultry chocolate eyes. Too tempting, and equally ruinous.
Spock found himself at this point paying considerably less attention than he ought to his talented and loquacious communications officer. There was, in the end, only so much a man could take, Vulcan control or no.
“Mr Kirk.”
“Something wrong, Captain?” Kirk asked, all innocent wide brown eyes and insufferably coy smile.
A tiny muscle twitched in Spock’s eyebrow. Ah, so that was the game. “Not as such, Mr Kirk. Please forgive me, Lieutenant, I had intended to edit some reports before the start of Gamma shift.”
He stood in one lithe movement and bowed to them both, before beating as hasty a retreat as Jim had seen out the door.
The First Officer bit the inside of his cheek – hard – to stop himself from smirking, and returned his nose to his book. That was most certainly a win.
***
It was an incredibly dull shift, even by Vulcan standards. Jim was half asleep at his station, and even the wonders of the ship’s computer system and the amassed knowledge therein failed to drag him from his stupor. He had taken to watching Spock’s reflection in the screen before him to pass the time, although there was really little point; even full Vulcans allowed themselves to display boredom and frustration occasionally, but not Spock. It broke Jim’s heart some days, that despite all Spock had accomplished, he still felt as though he had something to prove.
“Mr Kirk, have you the readings from yesterday’s ion storm, please; I would like to check a calculation in this report.” The Captain nodded down to the PADD on his knees as Jim turned around, relieved for something to do with his hands other than periodically pinch himself in the hopes of staying awake.
“Sure thing, babe,” he murmured sotto voce, tapping the required information into the computer with rather more than the necessary amount of efficiency. He took the long route and transferred the information to another PADD to take over to the Captain; it wasn’t as though the information was urgently required, and he would at this point quite happily organise paperclips to keep him occupied.
“Thank you, Mr Kirk. Most obliging of you.” Even if Jim had missed the slight emphasis on his name, he most certainly saw the raised eyebrow. What-oh. He just called the infamous Vulcan Captain Spock “babe” on the bridge, in front of a whole section of other officers. Well, there was only one way to come back from this.
“That’s why you love me,” he grinned sunnily, sauntering back to his station before he could see Spock’s reaction. Today was a day of wins, it seemed.
***
“Logically, I ought to silence that tongue of yours for good, Mr Kirk.” The Captain was stood at parade rest in the space before Kirk’s desk, later on that ship’s evening.
The First Officer, for his part, was leaning casually against it, half-smirking as he looked up from under his lashes. He grinned broadly and tilted his head back to regard the other cannily. “Oh yes? Is that a promise... Captain?”
“Indeed, Mr Kirk, your emotional responses on the Bridge raise the possibility of an incident to 67.4%, leading to our exposure.”
“Why, Captain, are you implying that I... rile you?”
A unnoticeable muscle twitched in Spock’s jaw. Jim, however, who was watching for it, smirked – bingo – and lounged back on the desk, crossing his legs at the ankles. An eyebrow moved infinitesimally. Another win, thought Kirk happily.
“Well, Captain? I await my punishment. What form must this... silencing take?” He licked his lips in a manner that would have outraged polite Vulcan society. But they weren’t in polite Vulcan society now.
Spock took a step forward, bringing him almost nose to nose with the smaller human. “I confess that a number of options have crossed my mind, Mr Kirk.” His eyes glittered again briefly before returning to their usual Vulcan calm.
Jim shifted slightly, maintaining eye contact, before running two fingers lightly up the arm of his captain (bare, in deference to the considerable heat maintained in Starships, given their largely Vulcan component). He was rewarded with the sight of Spock’s eyes becoming almost impossibly darker, and a green tinge suffusing pale cheeks.
He withdrew contact suddenly, tucking his hand behind his back. Spock didn’t sway closer, but it was a near thing.
“Though the... human way is much more likely to yield the... desired results, wouldn’t you say? Sir?”
He could see Spock grinding his teeth, before the half-Vulcan finally snapped, grinding out, “You are incorrigible,” before all but devouring his lips in a kiss which would cause problems in polite human society, never mind Vulcan.
And that, thought James Kirk, would most definitely constitute a-
Shut up, Jim.
Jim sighed against his lips. Gladly.