Work Text:
The longest day of Spock's life didn't announce itself in the beginning. There was no ominous sense of dread. He woke up the way he always did. He prepared for his day, kissed his husband, and went to the bridge. Nothing stood out to warn him that by the end of the day he would want to slam his face into the bulkhead and beg for unconsciousness. But these things hardly announce themselves.
In hindsight, he would think of a hundred things he could have done, but today he would not. He would think of protocols. He would think of promises. He would think 'married, but don't let it interfere. Don't let the crew know the extent of your connection.' And so, today he would suffer.
Before he and Jim were bonded, his father had taken him aside. He told him of how jarring a human mind could be; how they couldn't control their emotions within their own minds, and that they couldn't shield those thoughts from their bondmates. Spock could shield his thoughts from Jim, but he couldn't control what Jim's mind did to Spock. Spock had wanted to interrupt, and tell his father that he knew this. He had lived with his father and mother for years. He had seen the days their mental bond had dragged them both down. He wanted to say he had considered this, and that he and Jim had already tested Jim shielding his thoughts and emotions, and while he wasn't perfect and passively shielding, he could shield if he tried.
But he knew his father had been leading into something else, and so he waited.
His father didn't disappoint. The worst thing, he told Spock, his face deadly serious, was that humans required nearly constant mental stimulation. When they didn't have it, their brains would make it. Which should be fine, vulcans did much the same thing, but humans- humans didn't generally run calculations in their heads or create hypothetical situations to try and think of the most efficient and logical solution.
No.
Humans sang.
Spock had wanted to laugh at his father's distress, it was so surprising. But he just nodded seriously, and told him that he was prepared for whatever strange things Jim's mind did.
What he didn't say was that one of the things he and Jim shared was an enjoyment of Earth musicals, so he was sure he could handle whatever musical accompaniment Jim chose in the more dull moments of their day.
He had been right, of course. But he could understand why such a thing would be a trial for his father. He had no idea what songs his mother defaulted to when her surroundings were not stimulating enough.
Jim tended towards Broadway. With a few of the harder Earth classics that were more screaming than singing thrown in for flavor. Those could be a little grating, but he also knew that if those were the songs that started playing in his husband's head, then he was in foul mood, and Spock knew how to deal with that.
He had an entire book on how and when to restore Jim's emotional state to one of happiness.
Sometimes (most times), the song in Jim's head would loop; get stuck on one lyric and repeat it over and over... and over. Spock didn't begrudge him this. He knew Jim couldn't choose the song in his head, and he could see when the looping began to irritate the man. This too, he could help with, sometimes. If he could get the song to the end, Jim's brain would usually release it. Maybe it would pick a new song, maybe something would have drawn the captain's attention and his brain would no longer feel the need to supply a song.
So if The Room Where It Happened ended up skipping like an old, damaged record, Spock could come in on beat and provide the next line, the next note. He wasn't even sure if Jim knew he did it. The thing about songs was that they weren't in head voice. They sounded like the song.
Today, Spock suspected something similar might happen. They were star charting, and had been star charting for a week now. They had been monitoring for anomalies or for potential attacks that always seemed to pop up when you least suspected, but this section of space was uninhabited. And if there were any intergalactic conflicts happening, they were happening far from here.
It was, to be blunt, boring.
So when the first note filtered across their bond, Spock wasn't surprised. He didn't recognize the beat, but that was hardly unusual, since Jim's brain had a tendency to spit out random notes before settling on a song.
And then the lyrics came. And he didn't recognize those, either.
Who's a-comin? Paul's a-comin! Paul's a-comin? The star of the show, let him come!
Very strange. Part of Spock thought that Jim's song might be narrating his day. A rare occurrence, but not unheard of. But Spock didn't know anyone named Paul who ought to be arriving.
Stranger still, it sounded like the ending of a song. He wasn't sure if it would continue or not.
Suddenly, there was a stronger note, it nearly made Spock jump out of his chair.
And now for his headlining entraaance.
Time to Swoon at his leading man essence.
a duh duh duh so astronomical uh something something astronomical
What an ass! What a bitch! What a cooock
Spock had no idea what this was. It didn't sound like anything he had ever heard Jim listen to.
The gUy just DoEsn't like muSicals!!
Didn't like didn't like didn't like-a-like um!
This last part repeated several times, and was louder than most songs usually were from Jim. Spock snuck a look over his shoulder at his captain, expecting to see a scowl at the repeating lyric. Spock didn't want to revel in his husband's discomfort, but sharing in misery was no crime.
But Jim wasn't frowning. He didn't even look upset. He was bobbing his head along like this was the best song he'd ever heard.
Didn't like didn't like didn't like-a-like um!
How could he be enjoying this? Was this the man he had married? This wasn't a song. It was just nonsense!
Hey mister buuuisness, how do you do. Can we get a triple for you?
Decaf???
Whaaaat?
Decaf???
Whaaat?
Dodo-da-dodo-da-dodo and we'll bring it right up oi!oi!oi!
Spock frowned harder. Was this a new song? It seemed like a new song, but Jim didn't generally skip to new songs when one got stuck in a loop like that.
Get your cup of poison coffee~
Your twisted cuppa joey~
A... buhdabudabaua with the froth for you
Jack ! JAck ! JACK!
Spock was in hell. This was literal hell. He had committed some egregious sin, and now he was being punished.
He would have to apologize to his father. The man had tried to warn him.
Clearly, Spock's sin was hubris.
hEY miStEr buisness, how duh yah how duh yah doooo~
We'll make a DUHble for you!
Somehow, this line was rather threatening. He supposed that was logical, considering this coffee seemed to be poisoned. Spock took a deep breath and tried to block out the incessant noise. He couldn't push this song to finish, seeing as he had no idea what it was or where it came from. In all honestly he wasn't sure it was only one song, so there wasn't really anything he could do about it.
He threw himself into his work, trying to make his thoughts louder than the music without projecting them into Jim's mind.
Show me your hands. Show me your jazz hands.
He stared at the star chart, trying to do the calculations he was expected to do. He was a master of multitasking. He could do this.
Put 'em up, or you'll end up in cuffs.
He held his stylus over his pad, trying to mark out the changes that were needed based on the new charting they had done.
Show me your hands Show me your jazz hands.
His stylus snapped in his hand, and he quickly folded it away, trying to conceal it before anyone could see what had happened. Judging by the concerned look Uhura shot him, he was unsuccessful.
Cuz we're COPS. Yeah we're COPS. And we make sense. Duhduhduhduhduhduh.
He wanted to leave. He wanted to turn around and yell at Jim to shut up. But he didn't do that. He loved this man. More than anyone or anything in the known universe. He could hear Jim tapping his finger against the arm of his chair. He was clearly enjoying whatever mess was going on in his head. He couldn't ruin that.
A ShoW sTopPin nuMbeR
A rEal shOw sToPper
A big time box office draaaaw~
Jim's brain did a thing that meant this song was, apparently, sexy. He wasn't sure how. The voice was deep, and he knew that Jim enjoyed a deep voice, but it wasn't that the signal he was getting. It wasn't that Jim was particularly excited by the song, but the song was, somehow, inherently sexy. Not exactly sexual. Maybe.... sensual? He couldn't figure it out.
Something to sssshock 'em
To bring them a runnin'
No exits from this Broadway venuuuue~
Well at least this one had a pleasing melody. And it wasn't getting stuck on any annoying loops. Spock would take what he could get.
It'll reunite humanity!
In a thundering chorus.
No exits from this Broadway venuuuue~
He stands corrected. He took a deep breath. He could do this. Their shift was almost over. He just needed to get through the next hour and then he could distract Jim. Maybe some chess. All he needed to do was give Jim's brain something to think about and this hellish loop would go away.
WORKIN' BOYS I'M UP TO MY ASS IN SHIT
WHAT IS THIS BUSINESS?
MARKETS ARE CRASHING AND I'M AT THE EDGE OF MY WITS
I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT
The sudden change in song actually made Spock startle, and Uhura gave him another strange look. He wanted to tell her that he was fine, but the song was so loud he wasn't sure he could. And it didn't stop.
WHEN ALL I WANT TO DOOOO
IS SPEND THE DAY WITH Greg
....and Steve! ....and Stu ... and mark!
And Leighton
...And CHad
Spock just shook his head and leaned back in his chair, letting the song wash over him. What else could he do?
ring ring ...the phone rings.
I answer it.
.... oh hey Greg. I'm swamped. With Business. Stocks. Bonds. Golden paraCHUtes.
Remember those days on the football field, Greg?
Last week seems like ages ago.
What? Tonight? On the football field!
Just you? And me?
And Steve?
And Stu?
And Greg?
And Mark?
And Leighton?
And.... Chad.
"WHO is Chad?" Spock snapped, throwing his hands in the air. All the noises he couldn't hear before becoming horrendously obvious in their absence. Spock turned around slowly to see the whole bridge crew staring at him, with Jim slowly going red.
"What was that Commander?" Jim asked, and Spock pretended not to notice the way his voice cracked in the middle of his title.
"Nothing, Captain. I apologize for the outburst." He turned back to his station, hoping that that would be the end of it.
It was completely, blessedly quiet.
Spock could you hear all that?
Well. It was for a moment.
It is not an irregular occurrence, Jim.
What do you MEAN it's not an irregular occurrence? Do you hear every time I get a song stuck in my head???
Jim was distressed by this. He had no idea why.
Generally. Why are you upset?
I've had the ENTIRETY of The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals stuck in my head all day. How have you not killed something yet?
Spock scoffed and turned around to shoot Jim a look.
Because I love you, Ashayam.
Jim smiled like the sun, and Spock drank it in like a dying man. But Jim quickly covered it with a hand, turning away from Spock. Spock didn't want to see him hide his smile, but it was fine. He couldn't hide his blush.
Maybe I'll show you the musical after shift. Give some context to that nonsense.
Spock quirked an eyebrow, and turned back to his console.
Perhaps tomorrow. I believe I have experienced enough of this particular musical for one day.