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“Whose turn is it next to be on Spock bunny duty?”
Spock nibbled on the sprig of lettuce that Christine had given him as she held him aloft on the Bridge.
His small pink nose wrinkled as his crewmates began volunteering for the dubious honor of bunny-sitting him. It had proved necessary to have a minder so that he did not get accidentally stepped on or otherwise squashed or lost on a ship designed for human-sized crewmembers – not bunny rabbits.
“I’ll take him!” Uhura offered happily, reaching for him. “He’s so fluffy!”
But Captain Pike plucked him out of Christine’s arms.
“My turn.” He grinned. “Captain’s prerogative.”
The Bridge rumbled with chuckles as Pike sat down in his command chair while carefully cradling Spock in the crook of his elbow. The Captain’s chair certainly had the best vantage point for Spock’s current diminutive stature.
“Ortegas, how’s our course looking?”
“Laid in and looking good, Captain,” Erica replied. “Ready to hop to it and leave this sector at your say-so.”
Leave the sector? But if the Enterprise left this region of space, would they be able to return Spock to himself? Spock thumped at Pike to get his attention and alert him to his concerns.
Pike clucked his tongue at him like he was calming one of his horses, which made Spock’s whiskers twitch. Pike’s hands seemed huge as they tried to settle him down.
“Don’t worry, Lieutenant,” Pike murmured quietly at Spock’s distress. “We’ll find a way to change you back. As great as these floppy ears are,” Pike stroked the length of one of Spock’s mottled ears, “we need our chief science officer back.”
Mildly soothed, Spock stopped gnawing at Pike’s uniform, letting the fabric fall from between his teeth.
“I don’t even know if you can understand me,” Pike said, seemingly to himself.
Except Spock heard him and wished he had a way to signal his understanding. Perhaps he could get M’Benga or Pelia to set up some sort of button-push system for yes-no responses. Of course, that presumed Spock would be stuck like this for longer than a few days. As the days wore on, Spock found himself increasingly resigned to the possibility.
Pike was stroking his fur absently as he read a report. The sensation was…nice. Calming. Almost meditative. The pressure points in his current musculoskeletal structure were being stimulated in a way that made his concerns seem less urgent and all-consuming. Being a bunny was not so terrible.
Spock drifted for a while, not bothering to try to measure the time to the nanosecond. He was not able to be as precise as he normally was.
An indeterminable time later, he was disturbed from his rest by a high-pitched cooing.
“Aww, look, he flopped over!”
“The computer says that’s a sign that he’s comfortable.”
“Sorry, Sprocket, time to hand you off.”
Sprocket? Was the moniker intended to be a portmanteau of his name and the word rabbit?
Spock was unceremoniously lifted up and placed in another pair of human hands that held him dangling in the air. He kicked his limbs and grunted his displeasure. He was then handed to someone else, who gave him better support for his feet and tucked him against a warm chest.
“Captain, Commander, I’m not sure this falls within the scope of my duties.”
Spock looked up to see that the person now holding him was Jim Kirk, Sam’s brother and First Officer from the Farragut.
“Your duties are whatever I saw they are, Kirk,” Number One said.
“Sir.” Spock felt Kirk’s chest rise and fall in a long-suffering sigh. But the man rubbed the top of Spock’s head between his ears in a pleasantly competent manner, and Spock decided the two of them could make do.
Kirk evidently agreed, because he carried Spock over to the tactical station.
“Here, this’ll help,” La’an said.
“Hm?” Kirk asked, as La’an placed something in his open hand.
“Treats.”
Spock’s ears perked up and he started nosing around in search of them.
“According to the replicator specs, they’re safe for rabbits,” La’an said, then added, “Not very nutritional though.”
“Good to know,” Kirk said.
“He likes them well enough,” La’an said, “but don’t expect him to do any tricks.”
Kirk laughed, making his entire chest rumble. “Did you try that? If he remembers any of this when he’s back to himself, he might hold it against you.”
La’an shrugged. “Tried and failed. He’s stubborn in any configuration.”
Spock wanted to protest her comment. He had not resisted her attempts to ‘train him’ because he was trying to be difficult but because he was trying to show that he still had a mind of his own. They had grossly miscommunicated.
He still wanted more of the treats, however. He finally found them in Kirk’s palm and started inhaling them as quickly as possible.
“Woah! He really likes these.”
Kirk tried to close his fist to stop Spock from eating the whole handful, but Spock pushed his nose insistently and pawed at him. Kirk relented and let Spock eat in peace.
“Alright, Spock,” Kirk said, floofing Spock’s tail. “Let’s go. Number One’s got me assigned to recalibrate the sensors on the Copernicus. You can supervise.”
Spock could indeed. He was intimately familiar with the shuttle’s specs.
Kirk held him with a suitably steady perch as they left the Bridge and went to the shuttle bay. Kirk set him down on the deck of the Copernicus and let him hop around as he worked.
The shuttle was chilly. Spock managed to leap up onto the co-pilot’s seat and tap the environmental controls, turning up the heat.
“Hey!” Kirk called out. “Get down from there!”
To Spock’s dismay, Kirk scooped him up and placed him back down on the deck.
“Too cold in here for you?” Kirk asked. He peered at the controls Spock had adjusted with a frown, which he then turned on Spock with a thoughtful hum. “But wait…did you know which buttons you pushed? Are you like…yourself in there somewhere?”
Yes! Spock wanted to reply. He hopped in a circle, hoping to convey his enthusiasm for Kirk’s line of thinking.
“Let’s test this out.” Kirk picked Spock up again and placed him directly onto the shuttle’s console. “If I wanted to recalibrate the fuel sensor sensitivity, where would I start?” He sat back and folded his arms.
Spock padded over to the fuel sensor module and nudged it with his nose.
Kirk blinked at him. “That’s right. Wow. Well, I’d better inform Captain Pike and Number One. Maybe we can rig something up for you to communicate with us better. Would you like that?”
Yes, finally. Spock did not have a way to say so, but he could show his approval by jumping onto Kirk’s lap.
Kirk grinned and petted him. “Don’t be offended, Mr. Spock, but I think this calls for more treats.”
Spock enthusiastically agreed.
Kirk acquired more treats, and Spock ate them as Kirk finished recalibrating the shuttle. Spock overdid it, however, and found himself increasingly drowsy and lethargic. His tummy felt too full. Apparently bunny rabbits did not have Vulcan constitutions. He had overindulged. He stretched out his arms and legs and let his chin drop to the deck.
Kirk, who was on his back with his hands in the guts of the console, noticed him. He gave him a teasing grin. “Bored watching me work, Spock? Or did you just have too many of those treats?”
Spock certainly did not find watching Kirk work to be boring.
“Shall we call it a day?” Kirk asked. “I’m done here. I just need to put everything back together.”
Spock continued observing Kirk through heavy-lidded eyes.
When Kirk completed his work, he retrieved Spock and took him to his quarters. He set him down on the soft sheets of his bed.
“I’ve turned the temp up to Vulcan norm,” Kirk said, stripping off his long-sleeved uniform and pants until he was down to his black undershirt and shorts. “I guess rabbits like the heat, too. I don’t mind. I’ve camped in deserts before.”
Spock nestled into the blankets and slow-blinked at him.
“You want to hear more? Okay. So, I was on a trip to the Sun’lat desert on Tapi IV…”
As Kirk’s pleasant cadence rolled over him, Spock scooted closer, inviting Kirk to resume petting him again, which Kirk chuckled at but complied readily enough. The man murmured something about Spock being more tactile as a bunny before resuming his story.
Tactile, yes. There was no denying that Spock found Kirk’s touch welcome in this form. Indeed, Spock believed he would still find it welcome even if he were in his own body. Kirk was a compelling individual. Intelligent. Attractive. Even-tempered. Yes, Spock could well imagine falling asleep under his gentle hands and soft voice in other circumstances.
As it was, he fell asleep entirely content.
Spock woke up and, thankfully, he was no longer a bunny. He was, however, still being petted like one. There was a hand stroking his naked back, all the way down to the slope of his–
“Mr. Kirk.”
He heard a gasp and the rustling of sheets.
Kirk rolled over to face Spock. His eyes and lips were still soft with sleep, but he also looked somewhat amused. “Good morning to you, too, Mr. Spock.”
Spock felt a confused tangle of emotions when Kirk cupped his cheek and kissed him as if they woke up tangled together every day – as if Kirk had kissed him good morning a thousand times. Hadn’t he? Spock froze, torn between pressing into the kiss or pulling away to discern why something so familiar was so surprising. This was Jim.
“Spock, you alright?”
Was he? He touched his own ears – pointed and fleshy rather than fur-lined and floppy. “Jim. I believe I had a strange dream. A spatial anomaly turned me into a rabbit.”
“A giant white one like on that planet in the Omicron Delta system where we took shore leave?”
“No, a real one.”
Jim removed Spock’s hands from his ears and kissed his fingers. He purred, “Unless you have an early shift, you can tell me all about it while I thoroughly check you over to make sure your body is just as it should be.” His hands followed his words, and Spock stopped thinking about bunnies.
Spock woke up again – this time alone in his bed on the Enterprise.
He was not a bunny. And Jim Kirk was not in his bed. Spock could not help the brief pang of disappointment at the latter, and he stored the thought away for later consideration.
Spock did not often have such vivid dreams. But yesterday’s musical anomaly had been particularly unsettling.
His communicator buzzed.
“Kirk to Lieutenant Spock.”
If Spock were the superstitious type, he might attribute something more than coincidence to the timing of Jim Kirk’s call.
“Spock here.”
“Number One asked me to do some astrometric calculations…”
“And you seek my help,” Spock supplied after the long pause.
“Oh, I already did the calculations. I was just hoping you could check my work. I was really impressed with your theory about zipping up the anomaly yesterday, even though it didn’t work out.”
Spock was pleased. “Very well. I will meet you at my station on the Bridge at 0900.”
“How about 0830 at the mess hall? I could use some brainfood before we get started.”
Spock recalled being a rabbit eating treats out of Kirk's hands and felt a flush rise in his chest and spread up to his cheeks and ears.
“That would be agreeable. Spock out.”
Spock went to the mirror by his bedside and turned side to side as he touched his ears to confirm that he was himself and that there were no lingering rabbit features. Relieved to be Vulcan again, he got dressed and ready for the day.
And if he had a slight hop to his step when he made his way through the corridors of the ship, he would keep the reason for it to himself.