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Kirk opened the collar of his dress uniform with a blissful sigh of relief. For the hundredth time, he wondered why man could reach the farthest end of the galaxy, yet couldn't design a uniform that didn't choke the very life out of you.
He leisurely peeled off the rest of his uniform and replaced it with his favorite t-shirt and sweatpants. He checked his comm for messages and finding none, sank onto his bed with a satisfied groan. Who knew that transporting one ambassador would cause so much agitation among the crew?
From the moment Ambassador Sixton materialized on board, the Enterprise crew was smitten with the handsome, gregarious Cindrian. Kirk grimaced to remember how both genders of his crew vied for Sixton's attention at every opportunity. He marveled at the ingenious ways his crew found to be 'just passing by' or 'in the area' whenever the ambassador toured the ship. Sixton himself seemed nonplussed by all the attention and treated everyone with whom he interacted with kindness and interest.
Thank the Lord for Spock, Kirk mused. Seemingly unaffected by the Cindrian's physical appeal, Spock was perplexed by the crew's behavior toward the ambassador. Kirk quickly observed that his First Officer's austere presence beside Sixton often deterred the crew's more aggressive love-struck antics. Kirk gladly turned over the task of entertaining the ambassador to Spock, who accepted this additional responsibility with a calm “Very well, Captain.”
For the past five days, Kirk had therefore only seen the ambassador at each evening's formal dinner. The Cindrian always seemed in high spirits, so Kirk assumed the ambassador was satisfied with his accommodations and with Spock as his host. Kirk thought about how he had been able to get through all of his back-logged reports thanks to Spock. Since the Cindrian would be with them for several more days, Kirk realized he might even have time to finish the majority of his pending crew evaluations. He would have to figure out some way to thank the Vulcan. While he was still thinking about what he could do for Spock – it had to be something special - the object of his thoughts slowly approached his door.
Spock stared at the captain's door and quelled his internal butterflies. Illogical, he scolded himself. The ambassador had provided him the perfect opportunity to broach a certain subject with Kirk. The odds of another such incident occurring were only 9.68 percent. The time for introducing the exploratory conversation was now.
Spock acknowledged his anxiety was due to the wild card that was James T. Kirk. The Vulcan was confident that his approach was well-planned and of course quite logical, but would the captain react as expected?
Spock unnecessarily adjusted his pristine dress tunic, took a deep breath, and buzzed for entrance. “Come,” he heard after a brief pause.
Sitting up on his bed, Kirk cursed the interruption. His irritation vanished, however, and he smiled widely as his First Officer moved into view. “I was just thinking about you and Ambassador Sixton.”
“Indeed?” Spock asked, one brow raising. “That is most fortuitous.”
The radar within Kirk that was always alert for Spock pinged suddenly. No one else might have heard the undercurrent of additional gravity in Spock's voice, but Kirk did. His smile dropped. “What is it, Spock?”
Spock took a breath, seemed about to speak, then pressed his lips together.
So, something serious, Kirk thought. He rose and took a step toward the Vulcan. “Is there a problem? Did Yeoman Yandel pretend to faint again at the ambassador's feet?”
“I have not seen the yeoman since the incident.”
Kirk sighed. “Did the ambassador find Ensign Borry again in his quarters pretending to fix another vent?”
“Nothing of that import has occurred, Captain. However, Lt. Alanda managed to affix herself to the ambassador with Gorn glue.”
Kirk groaned. “How the hell did she get Gorn glue? Were you able to get them separated?”
Spock nodded. “It was fortunate that they were only connected sleeve to sleeve. The lieutenant was quite zealous in correcting her misstep by tearing off her own shirt.”
Kirk dropped his head into his hands. “I need to get you a BIG gift,” Kirk muttered.
“Sir?” Spock asked, his head tilting to one side.
Kirk peeked out at Spock through his fingers. Spock's face relaxed into the slight smile he could never suppress when charmed by his captain's more playful behaviors.
“Never mind,” Kirk told him. “But there is an issue? Is it with the crew?”
Spock was grateful to his captain for circling back to the start of their dialogue. “Not in the sense you mean.”
Kirk spread his hands open in frustration. “Spock! What's going on?”
Instead of answering, Spock purposefully turned slightly away from him. “It – it is a delicate subject.”
Kirk's eyes widened. He was immediately taken back in time to Spock's pon farr. His throat tightened even as he told himself that his friend's next pon farr was years away. “You can share anything with me,” Kirk said quietly. “You know that. Are you feeling unwell?” he asked delicately.
“I am well,” was the swift reply. “Please be assured that if I had anyone else I could ask … I understand this is a great imposition.”
Some instinct told Kirk that he wasn't going to like what was coming. “Spock, you could never impose on me or our friendship. Talk to me.”
“We are already conversing, Captain.”
Spock's weak attempt at humor failed to amuse Kirk. “Stop stalling and tell me what you need, what we need to do.”
Spock threw his captain a quick look of appreciation and gratitude. Only Kirk would offer Spock his help so unconditionally. “I need an opinion and perhaps advice.”
Kirk nodded, swallowing a brief flash of anxiety. “I can do that. Keep going.”
“Eight crew members shared a similar observation with me regarding the ambassador. However, it was not until Lt. Uhura voiced the same to me, did I consider that it might require further evaluation.”
Kirk nodded again. He had suspected this would have something to do with the ambassador. “I think we can trust Uhura's judgement. What did she say to you?”
Spock took several steps away, his gaze locked on the cabin wall. “She said that Ambassador Sixton was interested in having a romantic relationship with me, and that if I were interested as well, I'd 'better get with the program real quick'.”
Whatever Kirk had expected, this was not it. His body flushed hot, then cold. After gaping at his first officer for several moments, Kirk forced a crooked smile. “And this is what you need advice about?”
Kirk saw immediately that his purposefully light, teasing tone was not well received as it made Spock stiffen visibly. “Excuse me, Captain,” he said coldly. “I've imposed enough on your time.”
“Wait!” Kirk called, leaping after the retreating Vulcan. “Stop! Spock, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to seem dismissive.” A firm hand on his first officer's elbow turned the Vulcan back in his direction. “Come on. Sit down.”
It took several more prompts, the final one close to an actual order, before Spock deigned to sit on the divan. Kirk carefully lowered himself onto the other end, almost as if he expected Spock to bolt at his action. Spock had to grind his teeth together to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching.
“OK,” Kirk breathed. “OK. Let's start over. A number of people have told you that Ambassador Sixton is interested in you - romantically. Are you – are you - “ Kirk broke off. Somehow, he could not make himself ask Spock if he was interested in return. He settled for: “Do you think they're right?”
Spock made a motion, almost of impatience. “I lack the knowledge. I am a Vulcan. He is a Cindrian. Our cultures are different. How can I be certain that he wishes to initiate a romantic relationship?”
“You could always just ask him,” Kirk suggested. As soon as the words were out, Kirk desperately wanted to reel them back in. If the ambassador was interested in Spock, all it would take was that simple inquiry to potentially move the relationship to the next level. Kirk didn't want that to happen. He ignored the internal mental voice asking why he felt that way.
Luckily, Spock was visibly unimpressed with his answer. “You assume that he would welcome such a question. If the crew members are incorrect, he would view my question as the epitome of presumption and impropriety.”
“Yes, that's true,” Kirk said gravely. “Logical as always, Mr. Spock.”
Spock was silent for a few moments. The moment had come. He would not be afraid. Knowing what he was risking and what he hoped to gain, he asked smoothly: “If you desired a romantic or sexual relationship with me, how would you inform me of your intentions?”
Kirk's eyes widened. “I – I – what?”
“What types of behaviors would you exhibit?” Spock persisted. “What would you do to make me aware of your desires? I can compare your replies for possible correlation to any of the ambassador's actions.”
Kirk chuckled unevenly. “Well, a dozen roses always seems to do the trick,” he said flippantly.
Spock huffed in annoyance. “I am not a woman,” he returned sharply. “Would you truly send me flowers as a seduction tactic?”
Spock's hard tone told Kirk he had misstepped again. “No, no I wouldn't,” he assured him hastily. Kirk sat back and stared at his First Officer. “I don't think I can answer your question, Spock, without giving it some long thought first. You wouldn't be my typical … partner.” He almost said 'conquest' but the term seemed grossly inadequate and insulting to Spock.
Spock seemed to accept this answer. “Humans seem to know when one person is interested in another. What behaviors do you observe that alerts you to this?”
“Touching is a big one,” Kirk answered readily. “If you see two people touching each other a lot when it's not necessary, that's a big give-away.”
Spock mused on this for several moments. “Would an example be when you pulled me out of the way of the avalanche on Beta Hera II and kept your arms around me for another 16.8 seconds even though we were out of danger?”
“What – no! That was just shock! Spock, you were almost killed!”
“My apologies, Captain,” Spock said smoothly. “Would it be more like the time on Organia, then, when you patted me on the shoulder or pulled me along the hallway after you incapacitated the guard? Neither of those touches were necessary to what was occurring.”
“I don't even know what you're talking about!”
“Indeed?” Spock asked calmly. “Perhaps a better example is when something amuses you at lunch or dinner and you repeatedly press your shoulder against mine in laughter?
“No! I don't think you have this touching concept quite right!”
“Perhaps,” Spock agreed readily. “Can you describe another visible token of romantic interest between two people?”
Kirk studied the Vulcan's face, looking for any indications that Spock was toying with him. He wasn't sure he fully trusted Spock's neutral expression.
“Laughing,” Kirk said. “If you see someone laughing excessively at another person's jokes or behaviors, it can be a sign they're invested in the other person.”
Again, Spock took several minutes to think. “I recall when you wanted me to admit to emotional behavior on the bridge after our safe return from Taurus II. Your laughter was quite exuberant and even after you returned to your captain's chair, you continued to laugh intermittently for another 2.7 hours.”
“I was giddy with relief you were all alive!”
“Perhaps we should move onto another indicator?” Spock asked innocently.
Kirk glared at his First Officer. “When two people start spending more time together, it can be a sign of romantic involvement.” He added hastily: “Time that's not required by their jobs or situation; time where they seek each other out, just to be together.”
“So, when you invite me to play chess -”
“No!”
“On Granlee V, you asked me to spend shore leave with you.”
“I just wanted to spend time with y-” Kirk broke off. “I mean, I wanted us to have a chance to relax – I mean, I thought you would enjoy – I thought you'd enjoy the climate,” Kirk finished almost accusingly.
“I did indeed,” Spock said serenely.
“Well then!” Kirk said triumphantly, as if he had proved his point.
Spock struggled to keep any amusement from leaking into his expression. “Should we consider when you come down to the science labs to check on the progress of one of my projects and stay in excess of an hour? Or when you sit on the railing by my science station on the bridge and we converse about many topics? Or when -”
“No!” Kirk nearly shouted. “You're my friend! Of course, I want to spend time with you!”
“Ah, I see. Perhaps a different sign will help me better distinguish friendship from romantic interest?”
“Nicknames!” Kirk blurted out. That should be a safe one, he thought. “The two interested individuals sometimes give each other nicknames as a sign of affection.”
Spock nodded thoughtfully. Truly, Kirk was making this easier than he ever anticipated. “On the planet, Iotia, you called me 'Spocko'.”
“No!” Kirk yelped. “That was for fun!” He rubbed his neck, surprised to find it damp with sweat. His mind raced for an example that Spock's logic would better understand. “The two people in question sometimes pay each other exagerrated compliments.”
“You once told me I gave you emotional security.”
“Arrgh!” Kirk moaned. “That's not the same thing!”
“I seem to be having great difficulty with these concepts,” Spock acknowledged easily. “Perhaps just one or two more behavioral examples?”
Kirk struggled to control his erratic breathing. He seemed to be swimming upstream against a raging torrent. “If the two people feel more than friendship for each other, they'll take enormous risks to ensure the other person's happiness or safety.”
“On the Shore Leave Planet in the Omicron Delta region, you continuously shielded me with your body when we were running from the strafing airplane. Despite my best efforts to pull you out of danger, you perversely kept getting in front of me.”
“I don't remember that, but I'm the captain, and -”
“You risked your entire Starfleet career to transport me to Vulcan.”
Kirk remained silent.
“You did not even try to hurt or incapacitate me on Vulcan while I was trying to kill you,” Spock added with a slight waver in his voice.
There were several moments of quiet before Kirk decided to stop struggling to stay afloat. “They have enormous trust in each other,” he offered hoarsely. Spock noted in satisfaction that his captain did not even reference the two unknown people.
“You were trapped in Dr. Lester's body and yet you allowed me to physically touch and hold you. You allowed me to be with you and to take care of you when you were at your most vulnerable.”
Kirk rose and took several turns around his cabin, his hands clasped tightly together. “Well, Mr. Spock,” he laughed nervously. “Based on all these examples, it appears I'm in love with you.”
“Indeed, Jim. It seems the only logical conclusion.”
Kirk spun on his heel to gape at the Vulcan. “You – you – you set this whole thing up!” he sputtered. Spock only returned his gaze with warm interest. “Was all that rigmarole about Sixton even true?”
“Most assuredly,” Spock answered. “In fact, the ambassador approached me himself and asked -”
“I'll kick his ass!” Kirk howled.
“That would be most improper,” Spock scolded primly.
“If he so much as bats his eyes at you, I'm throwing his ass in the brig!”
“You cannot imprison the ambassador for such a reason.”
“I swear, Spock, if Sixton's ass goes anywhere near you in these next few days, I'll -”
“You seem obsessed with the ambassador's buttocks,” Spock interrupted severely. “Perhaps it is I that should be jealous.”
Kirk threw himself onto the Vulcan's lap, his legs straddling Spock's with ease. As if I've done this a hundred times before, he thought, before he laid a searing kiss on his first officer.
Reveling in Spock's equally passionate response, Kirk threw himself unreservedly into showing his First Officer just whose buttocks he truly desired.