Chapter Text
No matter what the rumour mill might have said, Jim Kirk was not one to enjoy getting drunk in bars. There had been very dark times in his past in which his need to forget surpassed his need for control, but he liked to think such moments were things of the past. And so, the night of his 23rd birthday saw him and Bones practically cuddling despite Bones’ protests at the term, so that they could fit in Jim’s single bed rewatching old episodes of one of his favourite retro shows, Avatar: The Last Airbender, which Bones ended up enjoying despite being against it because “you want me to watch a show for kids from two centuries ago?!”.
“This is it,” Jim thought, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The moment that Bones had been anticipating since the day they had met aboard the shuttle. The moment his sanity had finally decided that it was done with constantly being unappreciated and left for good, in search of someone who did not take them for granted.
It had taken every ounce of his, admittedly scarce, self-control to not let a horrified scream pierce the air when a stranger’s face greeted Jim in the mirror. Gone were the familiar blue eyes and blonde hair that had helped him flirt his way out of trouble more times than he cared to count. They had been replaced by what, based on the eyebrows and the characteristic pointy ears, appeared to be a Vulcan one. It looked fairly young, around his own age, but you could never be certain with Vulcans. Black hair cut in a bowl cut and brown eyes that were startlingly human. Or maybe that was just his overwhelmed mind projecting, trying to find something familiar to grasp onto amidst this surreal experience.
Going back to the unknown room where he had woken into, Jim tried to find any clues that led to any insight as to how he had ended up in another body, but the search yielded little results. There was a bookshelf brimming with books, most of which were written in what appeared to be Vulcan, with very few of them in Standard. The rest of the room was occupied by a spartan desk and a closet filled with sturdy, dark clothing, which made sense considering the coldness that characterized the planet. A trait malicious tongues claimed its inhabitants had inherited.
“Spock, are you feeling unwell? It is almost noon, you never sleep this late,” the female voice carried a worried tinge interrupted his musings.
Unsure as to how best proceed, he slowly turned around to face the owner of the voice: a woman standing at the door that he had failed to hear being open, as engrossed as he had been trying, with no avail, to figure out what the hell was going on. He had not ruled all of this being some kind of bizarre dream conjured up by his mind. Who knew, maybe now he was allergic to sleep as well?
“I,” think, think, think. “Was tired?”
“Really Jim? That was the best you could come up with?” the Bones inside his head drawled.
“From what?” the woman was unimpressed as well. “Breathing too much?”
“I...”
“If you are feeling well,” a suspicious frown marred her human face. “Then you should be heading to the VSA, but if I discover that you are sick after all...”
Jim gulped when she didn’t finish the sentence. This was a scary lady and he would not want to be on her bad side.
Wait, what was the VSA? His head was spinning due to the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. The last straw, however, was when he saw himself in the whole-body mirror next to the closet. Something about the serious, impassible Vulcan features clashing with the cheerful Doctor Who pyjamas launched him into a giggle fit. They even had mini TARDISes on them!
Once he managed to get his hysteria under control, Jim was faced with what to do next. f this was not a hallucination, and that was a big if, he had to accept the possibility of Spock being in his body right now. Which meant that they had to have switched bodies, but why? And why had it happened to the two of them?
Jim shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Maybe a quick shower would make things better? He grabbed some clean clothes from the closet to change into, after all, he had to go to the VSA, wherever that was. Once inside the bathroom Jim realized that there was something he had failed to take into consideration: he had to get naked in order to take a shower. He could feel the heat starting to pool around his cheeks at the thought. Trying his best to respect the other’s privacy as well as getting clean without killing himself due to an unfortunate slip, he half-closed his eyes and tried to be as quick as possible(though judging by the size of the other, he had very little to be embarrassed about. He wondered if that was common amongst Vulcans or something in which Spock exceeded expectations. Bad Jim! Put some clothes on right now and get out of the bathroom!)
A well-lit corridor was the first thing that greeted him outside the bedroom. The floor seemed to be made out of wood, though it was most certainly artificial. After a couple of minutes of walking, he arrived at what appeared to be a living room. There were a couple of comfortable-looking sofas and some armchairs. It looked...barren would be the aptest word to describe it. It was a recurring feeling throughout the house as if it had not been lived in. A shiver ran down his spine as memories of a younger Jimmy, trapped in a house that had never been a home sprung to the front of his mind.
“Spock! What are you doing standing there?” and there came the disapproving look. “I thought you had drowned in the shower with how long it took you to come downstairs. You will have to eat your breakfast quickly if you wish to make it on time for your appointment with T’Pring.”
Trailing after her like an obedient duckling, Jim sat down on one of the chairs around the isle of the kitchen.
“Your father has already had breakfast and is now meditating but will join you in ten minutes. He has some business to attend in the VSA as well, so you will be able to enjoy each other’s company on the way” there was something unnerving about her pleasant expression as if there was a command hidden between her words to enjoy each other’s company...or else.
And after ten exact minutes of the big clock framed in the wall in front of him, a serious-looking Vulcan, which, yeah, was kind of an oxymoron, entered the kitchen as well. He did not say anything and just stood there looking until Jim finished eating. It made the bland soup even harder to swallow.
When he was done, he and his father walked side by side, and not even the memory of the artfully crafted threat from earlier was enough to compel him to try and struck up a conversation. The streets, though filled with people, were quiet, with none of the commotion so characteristically present in San Francisco. The VSA, or Vulcan Science Academy, as it proclaimed proudly in big bold golden letters, was an imposing compound of buildings, bigger than Starfleet Academy, with a certain air of grandiosity that emulated that of an ancient temple.
Jim was left to his own devices as soon as they crossed the huge metallic entrance doors, his fake father walking away without a backward glance. All right, he could do this. He just needed to figure out where to go…and what to do. Disoriented Jim wandered around, unsure as to which direction to follow.
“Spock” Jim looked around, trying to see... Oh, yeah, he was Spock! “Whatever it is that you are wandering in the hall that requires your complete attention instead of working on your thesis?”, the other Vulcan managed to be emotionless and deeply disapproving all at once.
“I was just…”
“Yes?”
“Lost in my very deep thoughts?” Jim tried, wincing inside.
“I better see those very deep thoughts of yours reflected in your work, then” Jim had no idea that Vulcans could be so threatening, like, sure they were stronger physically than most known species, but he had always thought of them as fairly harmless. Gulping, he nodded frantically.
He faithfully followed who he assumed was T’Pring based on the comments of that morning, until they arrived at a corridor filled with three identical black doors next to each other on one side, and another two doors on the other.
“As we established beforehand, we will meet after consuming our meals”, she opened the door closest to her and disappeared inside, but changed her mind and reappeared before closing the door behind her. “On second thought, you seem far too distracted today to be left to your own devices. I do not think it would be wise to leave you alone, so I will allow you to share my space of study with me.”
“Spock, T’Pring” saved by the figurative bell.
“Stonn” T’Pring nodded.
Unsure as to how to proceed, he gave a jerky nod of his own. Luckily, that seemed to be good enough.
“I trust that your research is progressing adequately, Spock”
“Most adequately” bullshitted Jim. “I just made some promising that require my immediate attention”
He tried to get away but was stopped by T’Pring’s dry “Your study room is next to mine”
“I was just testing your reflexes,” he tried to open the door to her right.
“Yours is the one at the left” there was no way in hell that she did not suspect that something was wrong.
“Still testing you”. She was definitely Not Amused.
A sigh of relief escaped his lips as soon as the heavy door closed behind him. The study room was wide, easily twice the size of the dorm Bones and he shared. The floors were made of rich, mahogany wood, with darker bookshelves covering almost all the entirety of the walls. A simple, functional desk was next to a big window that completed the period look of the room, which could have easily been Mister Darcy’s studio.
Curious, he sat down on the hard chair that accompanied the desk. Seriously, where Vulcans are allergic to comfortable chairs? A pile of papers was resting neatly on the right corner. What harm could there be in taking just a quick peek? After all, both Stonn and T’Pring seemed to be familiar with whatever Spock’s work was. And for the moment, Jim had decided that the most prudent course of action would be to act like the person this body, this life belonged to. Who knew how long he’d be stuck here? Or if it was temporary or permanent?
Jim was surprised to find out that Spock’s research was on antimatter, as most of the scientific community had decided that they had already obtained everything they needed from it, after having harnessed it to produce the energy required for space travel amongst other things.
As his reading progressed, his awe over the other’s mind just kept on progressing. Jim had always been fascinated by the mere concept of antimatter, the same as ordinary matter but with opposite electric charge. And the way a particle and its antiparticle annihilated one another when they came into contact. There was a beauty of its own in the asymmetry of it all. It seemed that Spock was in the process of trying to answer a question that was still a mystery even in the 23rd Century: why was there so little antimatter that was not artificially created in the universe? After the Big Bang, all studies so far agreed that there had been an equal quantity of matter and its counterpart, but no one had found a reasonably satisfactory explanation as to why it had happened. Spock’s papers, though, had come closer than any of the numerous published books that Jim had read on the subject. He got lost in the brilliance of it until a soft knock on the door distracted him from his reverie.
“Come in”
“It seems that you have forgotten that it is time for our break” T’Pring informed him.
Jim nodded (if he didn’t speak he couldn’t mess anything up, right?) and carefully reordered the pages, leaving them in the same corner he had found them, before standing up and resume his stellar role as an obedient little duckling.
The cafeteria of the VSA was a far cry from that of Starfleet Academy, with its lack of noise and the food precisely distributed in individual metallic trays. Today’s menu included another bland-looking white soup, roasted eggplant, and an apple. Thinking of apples always made him smile, so he had to make a conscious effort to conceal his mirth at reminiscing that time where he created a barrier entirely made of applet outside his dorm room while Bones was in class. After all, apples were the kryptonite of doctors, as everyone knows.
Sitting down, T’Pring and Stonn, who had joined them while they waited in line, ate in silence, not being ones for small talk. Gulping nervously, Jim ate his food, trying to figure out how he would make it through the day without arising any more suspicion.