Fic: A Simple Misunderstanding
Title: A Simple Misunderstanding
Fandom: Star Trek: XI
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: K+
Summary: A simple misunderstanding causes consternation for our heroes the morning after a rather drunken night of celebration.
Kirk entered the bar to thunderous applause. Surprised, he looked to his usual table, to see McCoy, Sulu, Chekov, and even Uhura there, waiting for him. He acknowledged the applause with a nod and wove his way through the masses to reach his friends.
“’Bout time you showed up, Jim,” McCoy grumbled. Kirk shrugged.
“I tried contacting my mom,” he explained quietly, so that only McCoy could hear him in the raucous bar. “Between debriefings after returning to Earth, final exams, and then the commendation ceremony this afternoon, I haven’t had time to talk to her. I was in the comm lab trying to patch through a line to Riverside, but…” he trailed off. Only McCoy knows of the issues he has with his mother, and the doctor was tactful enough to keep his mouth shut.
“Anyway, sorry I’m late,” Kirk said loudly so that the others could hear.
“Ken I get you anything to drink? Perhaps wodka? It’s a Russian inwention, you know,” Chekov asked. From the spots of color on his cheeks, Kirk guessed that the tactical officer had been “celebrating” for quite some time. He smiled at the whiz kid.
“Sure. Thanks, Chekov.”
An hour or so passed rather quickly as Kirk kept the shots coming steadily. Soon the door opened, admitting the engineer who had saved the Enterprise with his quick thinking. He shouldered through the crowd and approached the table to sit with his fellow officers. “What’s that?” Kirk asked Scotty, who was holding a bottle of some alien liquor.
Scotty shrugged. “It’s green!” The Scotsman was well on his way to being completely soused, but to an already tipsy Kirk, the answer was legitimate.
Several shots later and Spock was there.
The green alcohol was stronger than Kirk had anticipated, and he was unsure of whether or not the Spock swimming in front of his eyes is a hallucination brought on by the potent potable. So he did what, in his drunken state, he believed to be the only logical thing-he poked him.
Kirk’s gaze followed his outstretched finger to where it met solid, unyielding flesh. So, not a hallucination then. He giggled; again, the logical option. He looked up to meet the Vulcan’s eyes and simultaneously the arched eyebrow that generally signified either irritation or amusement.
“Hiya, Spocko!” Kirk exclaimed, a grin breaking out over his face. “Watcha doing here?” Spock looked down at him gravely.
“Uhura called me shortly before she left. She asked me to come down here and ‘take care’ of you.” Kirk looked at him in surprise, then glanced around the table. Uhura had left indeed, how had he not noticed? Sulu and Chekov were standing by the bar, their heads together, apparently deep in conversation. McCoy and Scotty were both asleep on the table, Scotty’s hand clutching the now-empty bottle of green alien liquor.
“Oh,” Kirk replied dumbly, at a loss for words. He stood unsteadily, took a step, and swayed, gripping the table for support. Spock was by his side in an instant, wrapping an arm around Kirk’s torso. The Vulcan was warm, almost hot to touch, and somewhere in the recesses of Kirk’s drunken mind he remembered that Vulcan’s climate is hotter than that of Earth. ‘Was,’ he corrects himself. Not ‘is.’
“Thanks,” he murmured quietly, leaning close and letting his breath play over the science officer’s delicately pointed ear. Spock stiffened, almost imperceptibly, then pulled away. Unthinking, reflexively, Kirk grabbed at his hand, grasping the long, slender fingers even as the small voice in his head reminded him that Vulcans, a touch-telepathic race, have psionic nerves laced through their hands.
Spock halted abruptly and Kirk seized his chance. Not caring that the whole bar could see them, Kirk moved to stand in front of Spock, releasing his hand to caress the Vulcan’s face, then pulling him down into a kiss. The brush of their lips was timid, but a spark had ignited in Kirk’s chest. Spock had pulled away after the meager kiss, but from the look smoldering in his eyes, it was not due to lack of an emotional response.
“Captain,” he spoke quietly, “I believe it would be best if we were to continue this activity in a more…private location.”
Kirk smiled. “Your place or mine?”
**~~**
Kirk was roused from his peaceful slumber by a persistent beeping. Opening his eyes slowly, he peered around the darkened room, trying to locate the source. He was in his dorm room at the Academy, where he and the other cadets who had survived the encounter with Nero and the Narada were finishing up their last year of classes. Kirk knew he hadn’t set an alarm, because his last exam had been the previous afternoon, and he didn’t have any appointments scheduled…
With a start, he remembered that he did in fact have an appointment scheduled, for 0930 hours. He had forgotten all about it in the midst of his end-of-term celebrations last night-a rowdy party in the local bar, followed by copious imbibing of alcohol, then…
He sat up quickly, throwing the blanket off and sliding out from under the arm that was slung over his torso. He shifted, turning to face his bedmate. “Spock,” he whispered urgently. “Spock, wake up!”
The sleepy Vulcan rolled over to face Kirk. A faint green tinge graced his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. His straight, silky black hair was mussed from sleep, and from certain activities preceding sleep and involving the tenacious human next to him. “What is it, Jim?” he asked as he stretched languidly. Kirk pushed him out of the bed, and a startled Spock landed on the floor with an ‘umph.’
“Sorry, Spock, but I have this meeting in about 2 minutes that I completely forgot about and the guy’s always punctual, and if you could just go in the head and keep quiet for a couple minutes that’d be great,” Kirk explained hurriedly, throwing Spock’s black uniform pants at him and pulling his own shirt on over his head. The look on Spock’s face as he stared at Kirk from his position on the floor was comical, and Kirk would have laughed had he not been so pressed for time.
“Spock, please? I’ll explain later, I just need for you to-” But Kirk was cut off by a chime at the door. His eyes widened and he pushed the barely-upright Spock into the bathroom, tossing his boots in after him.
As soon as the door whooshed shut, Kirk spun around and darted to greet his visitor. The austere figure standing outside the door looked up as Kirk opened the door, his hood falling back to reveal a familiar face. “Ah, Spock! Please, come in,” Kirk said, trying not to breathe too hard and reveal his earlier exertions. The elderly Vulcan was not so easily fooled.
“Jim? Am I…interrupting anything?” he asked, his dark eyes raking the room and taking in the clothes scattered across the floor, the corner of the woven rug that was turned up, and the rumpled sheets that were almost but not quite covering the pair of indentations that indicated Kirk had not spent the night alone. Kirk reddened, but merely shook his head.
“Umm, nope. Come on in!” he said, waving Spock in. The elder looked a bit wary, but bypassed Kirk to enter his dorm room.
“If you do not object, I should like to make use of your facilities before we begin. I have had a long journey this morning,” Spock inquired. “It is through this door, yes?”
Kirk blanched, a look of almost-horror passing across his face. The younger man bolted to the door, barring Spock’s entrance. “NO!” he shouted. At the taken-aback look on the Vulcan’s face, he continued. “I’m…it’s just…well, you see…”
As he stuttered an incoherent explanation, the door behind him swished open. Kirk spun around to face the younger Spock, eyes wide and mouth agape. If Spock had not been Vulcan, he would have laughed. Kirk snapped his gaze from younger Spock to older Spock and back again, his expression of horror morphing into one of surprised confusion.
“Spock! But I thought…” he trailed off, and then rounded on the elder of the two. “You told me that the universe would end if he knew that you existed!” He pointed an accusatory finger at the younger Spock. “And you! Why did you leave the head when I asked you not to?”
Spock was unfazed. “I heard your shout and thought that perhaps you were in need of my assistance. Obviously I was mistaken.” He turned to fully face his older self. “Hello again, Spock.”
Had Kirk’s jaw dropped any lower, it would have landed on the floor. “You’ve met before?!” he asked in disbelief. “You lied!” he exclaimed, once again staring at the older Vulcan.
Spock shrugged, an oddly cavalier gesture for the supposedly unemotional being. “I implied. You inferred. It was not a lie.” He looked at his younger self. “May I enquire as to your presence here? I was under the impression that you were, to put it bluntly, not fond of Jim.” At this, the younger Spock flushed, slightly yet visibly, the pale skin on his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning dark green. The elder Vulcan quirked an eyebrow at his younger counterpart’s reaction.
“Ah. It appears my assumption was…incorrect.”
“Very incorrect,” agreed the younger Spock. Kirk stared at him, surprised at the easy admission, then burst out laughing. The older Spock’s eyebrow climbed further up his forehead, a definite sign of amusement. Even Spock-Jim’s Spock-smiled. Or at least, the corners of his mouth twitched. It was a start.
Fandom: Star Trek: XI
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: K+
Summary: A simple misunderstanding causes consternation for our heroes the morning after a rather drunken night of celebration.
Kirk entered the bar to thunderous applause. Surprised, he looked to his usual table, to see McCoy, Sulu, Chekov, and even Uhura there, waiting for him. He acknowledged the applause with a nod and wove his way through the masses to reach his friends.
“’Bout time you showed up, Jim,” McCoy grumbled. Kirk shrugged.
“I tried contacting my mom,” he explained quietly, so that only McCoy could hear him in the raucous bar. “Between debriefings after returning to Earth, final exams, and then the commendation ceremony this afternoon, I haven’t had time to talk to her. I was in the comm lab trying to patch through a line to Riverside, but…” he trailed off. Only McCoy knows of the issues he has with his mother, and the doctor was tactful enough to keep his mouth shut.
“Anyway, sorry I’m late,” Kirk said loudly so that the others could hear.
“Ken I get you anything to drink? Perhaps wodka? It’s a Russian inwention, you know,” Chekov asked. From the spots of color on his cheeks, Kirk guessed that the tactical officer had been “celebrating” for quite some time. He smiled at the whiz kid.
“Sure. Thanks, Chekov.”
An hour or so passed rather quickly as Kirk kept the shots coming steadily. Soon the door opened, admitting the engineer who had saved the Enterprise with his quick thinking. He shouldered through the crowd and approached the table to sit with his fellow officers. “What’s that?” Kirk asked Scotty, who was holding a bottle of some alien liquor.
Scotty shrugged. “It’s green!” The Scotsman was well on his way to being completely soused, but to an already tipsy Kirk, the answer was legitimate.
Several shots later and Spock was there.
The green alcohol was stronger than Kirk had anticipated, and he was unsure of whether or not the Spock swimming in front of his eyes is a hallucination brought on by the potent potable. So he did what, in his drunken state, he believed to be the only logical thing-he poked him.
Kirk’s gaze followed his outstretched finger to where it met solid, unyielding flesh. So, not a hallucination then. He giggled; again, the logical option. He looked up to meet the Vulcan’s eyes and simultaneously the arched eyebrow that generally signified either irritation or amusement.
“Hiya, Spocko!” Kirk exclaimed, a grin breaking out over his face. “Watcha doing here?” Spock looked down at him gravely.
“Uhura called me shortly before she left. She asked me to come down here and ‘take care’ of you.” Kirk looked at him in surprise, then glanced around the table. Uhura had left indeed, how had he not noticed? Sulu and Chekov were standing by the bar, their heads together, apparently deep in conversation. McCoy and Scotty were both asleep on the table, Scotty’s hand clutching the now-empty bottle of green alien liquor.
“Oh,” Kirk replied dumbly, at a loss for words. He stood unsteadily, took a step, and swayed, gripping the table for support. Spock was by his side in an instant, wrapping an arm around Kirk’s torso. The Vulcan was warm, almost hot to touch, and somewhere in the recesses of Kirk’s drunken mind he remembered that Vulcan’s climate is hotter than that of Earth. ‘Was,’ he corrects himself. Not ‘is.’
“Thanks,” he murmured quietly, leaning close and letting his breath play over the science officer’s delicately pointed ear. Spock stiffened, almost imperceptibly, then pulled away. Unthinking, reflexively, Kirk grabbed at his hand, grasping the long, slender fingers even as the small voice in his head reminded him that Vulcans, a touch-telepathic race, have psionic nerves laced through their hands.
Spock halted abruptly and Kirk seized his chance. Not caring that the whole bar could see them, Kirk moved to stand in front of Spock, releasing his hand to caress the Vulcan’s face, then pulling him down into a kiss. The brush of their lips was timid, but a spark had ignited in Kirk’s chest. Spock had pulled away after the meager kiss, but from the look smoldering in his eyes, it was not due to lack of an emotional response.
“Captain,” he spoke quietly, “I believe it would be best if we were to continue this activity in a more…private location.”
Kirk smiled. “Your place or mine?”
**~~**
Kirk was roused from his peaceful slumber by a persistent beeping. Opening his eyes slowly, he peered around the darkened room, trying to locate the source. He was in his dorm room at the Academy, where he and the other cadets who had survived the encounter with Nero and the Narada were finishing up their last year of classes. Kirk knew he hadn’t set an alarm, because his last exam had been the previous afternoon, and he didn’t have any appointments scheduled…
With a start, he remembered that he did in fact have an appointment scheduled, for 0930 hours. He had forgotten all about it in the midst of his end-of-term celebrations last night-a rowdy party in the local bar, followed by copious imbibing of alcohol, then…
He sat up quickly, throwing the blanket off and sliding out from under the arm that was slung over his torso. He shifted, turning to face his bedmate. “Spock,” he whispered urgently. “Spock, wake up!”
The sleepy Vulcan rolled over to face Kirk. A faint green tinge graced his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. His straight, silky black hair was mussed from sleep, and from certain activities preceding sleep and involving the tenacious human next to him. “What is it, Jim?” he asked as he stretched languidly. Kirk pushed him out of the bed, and a startled Spock landed on the floor with an ‘umph.’
“Sorry, Spock, but I have this meeting in about 2 minutes that I completely forgot about and the guy’s always punctual, and if you could just go in the head and keep quiet for a couple minutes that’d be great,” Kirk explained hurriedly, throwing Spock’s black uniform pants at him and pulling his own shirt on over his head. The look on Spock’s face as he stared at Kirk from his position on the floor was comical, and Kirk would have laughed had he not been so pressed for time.
“Spock, please? I’ll explain later, I just need for you to-” But Kirk was cut off by a chime at the door. His eyes widened and he pushed the barely-upright Spock into the bathroom, tossing his boots in after him.
As soon as the door whooshed shut, Kirk spun around and darted to greet his visitor. The austere figure standing outside the door looked up as Kirk opened the door, his hood falling back to reveal a familiar face. “Ah, Spock! Please, come in,” Kirk said, trying not to breathe too hard and reveal his earlier exertions. The elderly Vulcan was not so easily fooled.
“Jim? Am I…interrupting anything?” he asked, his dark eyes raking the room and taking in the clothes scattered across the floor, the corner of the woven rug that was turned up, and the rumpled sheets that were almost but not quite covering the pair of indentations that indicated Kirk had not spent the night alone. Kirk reddened, but merely shook his head.
“Umm, nope. Come on in!” he said, waving Spock in. The elder looked a bit wary, but bypassed Kirk to enter his dorm room.
“If you do not object, I should like to make use of your facilities before we begin. I have had a long journey this morning,” Spock inquired. “It is through this door, yes?”
Kirk blanched, a look of almost-horror passing across his face. The younger man bolted to the door, barring Spock’s entrance. “NO!” he shouted. At the taken-aback look on the Vulcan’s face, he continued. “I’m…it’s just…well, you see…”
As he stuttered an incoherent explanation, the door behind him swished open. Kirk spun around to face the younger Spock, eyes wide and mouth agape. If Spock had not been Vulcan, he would have laughed. Kirk snapped his gaze from younger Spock to older Spock and back again, his expression of horror morphing into one of surprised confusion.
“Spock! But I thought…” he trailed off, and then rounded on the elder of the two. “You told me that the universe would end if he knew that you existed!” He pointed an accusatory finger at the younger Spock. “And you! Why did you leave the head when I asked you not to?”
Spock was unfazed. “I heard your shout and thought that perhaps you were in need of my assistance. Obviously I was mistaken.” He turned to fully face his older self. “Hello again, Spock.”
Had Kirk’s jaw dropped any lower, it would have landed on the floor. “You’ve met before?!” he asked in disbelief. “You lied!” he exclaimed, once again staring at the older Vulcan.
Spock shrugged, an oddly cavalier gesture for the supposedly unemotional being. “I implied. You inferred. It was not a lie.” He looked at his younger self. “May I enquire as to your presence here? I was under the impression that you were, to put it bluntly, not fond of Jim.” At this, the younger Spock flushed, slightly yet visibly, the pale skin on his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning dark green. The elder Vulcan quirked an eyebrow at his younger counterpart’s reaction.
“Ah. It appears my assumption was…incorrect.”
“Very incorrect,” agreed the younger Spock. Kirk stared at him, surprised at the easy admission, then burst out laughing. The older Spock’s eyebrow climbed further up his forehead, a definite sign of amusement. Even Spock-Jim’s Spock-smiled. Or at least, the corners of his mouth twitched. It was a start.