Fic: As Morning Shows the Day, [Part 22]

[jade_dragoness]

Title: As Morning Shows the Day [Part 22]
Author: J.D. aka jade_dragoness
Rating: PG-13, for language.
Pairing: K/S pre-slash/friendship
Status: WIP
Spoilers: Star Trek XI
Warning: Dangerous & Near Fatal Levels of Cuteness
Summary: Based on the switched version of the prompt: A de-aged fic where Spock has to take care of a kid-Kirk; preferably Kirk only listens to Spock, and freaks out when he's not around. (Or, you know, switched). Written for the st_xi_kink meme, found here.
Word Count: 3,940 for this part [total so far: 114,668]
Disclaimer: Never ever will be mine. *sadness*
A/N: I wish I had this out sooner, but RL gets in the way of fandom way too often.
As always, feedback is hugely welcomed. Also, please feel free to point out any errors I missed.
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[“The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day” - John Milton ]
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[Part One], [Part Two], [Part Three], [Part Four], [Part Five], [Part Six], [Part Seven], [Part Eight], [Part Nine], [Part Ten], [Part Eleven], [Part Twelve], [Part Thirteen], [Part Fourteen], [Part Fifteen], [Part Sixteen], [Part Seventeen], [Part Eighteen], [Part Nineteen], [Part Twenty], [Part Twenty-One]

“Captain,” said Hernandez, interrupting the good humor on the bridge with his serious tone of voice. “The long range scanners have picked up faint ion trails outside of the Cromtic system.”

The professionalism of the bridge snapped into place with a near audible pop as nearly everyone turned in their station to face him.

“The computer was able to recognize five separate energy spectrums from those trails,” continued Hernandez looking up from the readouts to speak to Jim. “Only three were from engines used by members of the Federation, which includes the Enterprise.”

“And the other two, Mr. Hernandez?” asked Jim, leaning forward in both interest and trepidation.

“One of them is Tholian,” said Hernandez, soberly. “It‘s actually several days old. I think they passed us by shortly before we got here. We didn‘t catch it before because the trail was too old for the usual sensitivity of the sensors to pick up on it.”

Jim made a mental note of that. Tholians strolling into Federation territory was one of the reasons that Starfleet had set out to secure a starbase in this sector of space. If they had been pressing in even with a Starfleet ship so close nearby then it had to be for a reason. One that Starfleet Command would need to know and especially one that the next Federation starship to arrive at the Cromtic system would need to look out for.

“And unfortunately, the other trail’s energy is too diffused to provide a solid spectral analysis,” continued Hernandez, his face tight with frustration. “Even with the sensitivity of the sensors increased, I can‘t be certain of the origins only that it isn’t as old as the Tholian ion trail.” He directed a heavy frown towards the flashing computer displays of the science station before shooting his captain an apologetic look.

“Is there anything you can tell us about it?” asked Jim patiently, though he wasn’t able to resist tapping his fingers against the arms of the command chair yet he was careful to stay away from the sensitive controls.

“Not yet, the computer needs more time to analyze it,” admitted Hernandez. He touched a few controls on his station. “I‘m only certain that it‘s not from a Federation, Tholian, Romulan or Klingon ship. The information should be at your chair, sir.”

Jim sighed in frustration though not particularly surprised as he silently reviewed the information displayed on the command chair computer screen and verified Hernandez words for himself. Any Orion ship that could be following them this far from Orion space wouldn’t be easy to detect. He asked, “How soon will the computer take to finish the analysis, Mr. Hernandez?”

“An hour and twenty minutes,” said Hernandez, promptly.

Jim stood up and nodded at his crew. “Uhura, set out an intership message. I want all department heads to meet in one hour and thirty minutes in Deck 6‘s conference room.”

“Aye, sir,” said Uhura with a nod, and swiftly turned back to her station to relay the order.

“Mr. Hernandez, I’ll be waiting for your completed report. Sulu, you have the conn,” continued Jim. He flickered his eyes at Spock, who straightened and followed as Jim headed for the turbolift.

“Aye, sir,” called Sulu, after them.

The lift closed on Jim’s view of the bridge with a soft whoosh. Before Jim could open his mouth to ask Spock how he felt about taking lunch in his quarters, Spock spoke first.

“Jim, I have observed that you will not be able to spend as much time overseeing to my care since you have cleared for full duties as captain,” stated Spock, as the turbolift began moving.

Jim blinked in surprise and took in the calm expression on Spock’s face. He wondered how calm Spock was actually feeling. He thought the kid was okay with this news for the rest of his body language was relaxed. At least Jim hoped that was the reason.

Had he mentioned that he really disliked how much control Spock was getting back of his emotions and physical expressions? Because he did. A lot.

“Yeah, I‘m afraid so, Spock,” admitted Jim, after a moment. He was heartened when Spock appeared to be perfectly alright with his acknowledgement. “I‘m back on the roster for Alpha shift and taking care of the ship will absorb more of my attention than it had while I was on light duties. For the rest of the night, I‘ll be taking over the duty shift on the bridge. Our officers have been too stretched out and I want to make sure that they are fully rested come morning.” The sound of the lift doors opening made him absently walk out of the turbolift though most of his attention was focused on Spock.

“I merely wanted to state that I am of sufficiently advanced age that I no longer require that I be kept under adult supervision,” said Spock, as he followed at Jim‘s side. He continued firmly, “It will not be necessary to find a substitute guardian during that time in which you are required on the bridge. It would be a waste of resources for a Starfleet officer to be used in such a manner especially during such a time when those resources would be put to better use safeguarding the Enterprise.”

“Okay, okay. I give in,” said Jim, grinning as they walked to his quarters. “That‘s a logical argument. I won‘t inflict another babysitter on you. I think Rand will just have to be disappointed.” But personally, Jim was glad that his yeoman would have less time to give Spock ideas about human courtship. He was still rather paranoid about what else his personal yeoman had thought to pass on to the kid while he wasn’t around to keep an eye on them both.

Spock nodded soberly.

“How old are you now anyway?” asked Jim, as the sensors to his room caught him and opened.

“I am 13 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 hours old,” said Spock. And as if to emphasize his approaching puberty at the three, Spock’s voice broke with a surprising squeak.

Spock cleared his throat delicately and tried to pretend the voice break hadn’t happen.

Jim wasn‘t able to keep his smile from widening. “Yeah,” he agreed, “You‘re definitely getting older.”

Maybe, I’ll get lucky enough and I won’t have to go on a date with the kid, Jim thought cheerfully. And then there’ll be less reason for Spock to kill me when he gets all his memories back.

Not that grown Spock didn’t have enough excuses for justifying the murder of his captain.
*-*-*-*

Even though Jim believed Spock when he said that he could be left alone without constant supervision, he was rather reluctant to do so. Feeling rather greedy to enjoy every single possible second he could with Spock before needing to return to being the captain, Jim decided that they could take their meals in one of their private quarters.

He did make point of stopping by the mess in order to get the food, first. While only the quarters of high ranked officers like the first officer and the captain had personal replicators, those machines weren’t exactly calibrated to produce only food. That meant the quality and taste of the meals that came out of them would often suffer. Or taste like something that wasn’t edible at all, if the machine glitched.

The only reason Jim tolerated the coffee from them was that he’d long ago reprogrammed his replicator to produce a superior blend than what had been the standard in the machine. It had been either that or glower like a caffeine deprived monster every morning at his crew before he got to the mess. There were just some things that his crew shouldn’t have to suffer through.

So in the hour before he had ordered the meeting of all department heads, Jim was taking the time to enjoy a quiet meal with Spock in Spock’s room. He’d picked Spock’s quarters because he felt a lot better in leaving the kid there than anywhere else once he left. Yet he wondered if it had been a good idea when the tribble kept demanding attention from where it quivered in its cage. It was flattening its brown fur up against the wall of the cage that was closest to where Spock and Jim sat and trilled insistently.

“Okay, that tribble has got to be defective,” muttered Jim, as he raised a fork full of his vegetable stir fry.

Spock arched an eyebrow. “I do believe that the tribble is reacting is such a fashion because it has become accustomed to constant attention.”

It’s not the only one, Jim thought. He was also inclined to get twitchy when Spock was out of sight for too long. Bones is never going to stop making fun of me, he thought glumly. As if he needs more ammunition.

“What are you going to do while I‘m on duty?” asked Jim, in an attempt to distract himself from those morose mental images.

“I have considered spending a few hours in the science department. I was given an invitation to return,” said Spock. “I would like use the sensors of the Astrometrics lab now that the ship has left the Cromtician system.”

“And after that?” asked Jim.

“I will stop by the Engineering Department in order to assess the development of the aging machine,” answered Spock, and he delicately speared a baby carrot with his own fork.

“Sound like a plan, just do me a favor…” said Jim, with a wry smile.

Spock nodded, pausing with the fork in mid-air.

“Watch out for any exploding computer consoles.”

“I do not believe that Mr. Scott would tolerate the repeat of such an incident,” said Spock calmly and proceeded to eat his food.

“Yeah, but it will make me feel better if you‘re on the look out. The Enterprise is still a big place,” said Jim. And thirteen or not you’re still a kid. He did not add aloud. Jim knew better than to poke a teenager’s prickly pride.

Spock swallowed before answering soberly, “Very well, Jim.”
*-*-*-*

He was nearly late getting to the meeting of all department heads. Jim would have actually been late, full stop, if Spock hadn’t been the one to practically shove him out the door to get him moving. Jim just really didn’t like the idea of Spock being left alone. It didn’t help at all that his protective instincts were already being tripped with the knowledge of his ship and his crew being in danger.

He shook his head at himself and walked through the conference doors.

Everyone from Cupcake to Scotty was waiting for him. The only ones not at this meeting were Sulu and Chekov, even though they weren’t department heads, Jim would insisted they attend as well as he was very used to their intelligent input but he needed them both at their stations on the bridge. He would have them in the next meeting though. Especially Chekov, Jim liked the way the teenager approached ideas from different angles than normal.

Hernandez was furiously tapping away at his PADD and straightened in acknowledgement a beat behind the rest.

“Alright, Lieutenant Hernandez,” said Jim, without preamble. “Share with the class what you‘ve found.”

“Yes, Captain,” said Hernandez, as he stood. He touched his PADD and the large monitor at the end of the table flashed into a series of energy readouts. “These are the ion trails we found at the edge of the Cromtic system. The computer was able to produce a 53.8 percent match to this” - he touched the screen of his PADD and the picture changed - “an Orion scout ship.”

The picture of a ship in the middle of a circular propulsion system which glowed orange at four points was surprisingly blurry.

“Why is the match so low?” asked Jim, surprised.

Hernandez shifted in place uncomfortably, “I'm afraid it’s the nature of the Orion ship, sir. The scout ships are built with a sensor blocking capacity that is difficult even for our sensors probes to penetrate. If Mr. Spock hadn‘t showed me how to temporarily increase their sensitivity it‘s doubtful that I would have been able to gather enough data for the computer to provide a match that high.”

“Hmm, it makes sense, considering how far they are from their space,” said Jim.

“The main problem is that we have, sir,” Hernandez said, “is that we can‘t maintain the changes to the long range and short range sensors for long without the instruments suffering damage. So if the scout ship comes back when they are operating normally, I don‘t think we‘ll see them. At least not until its too late.”

“Damn it, there‘s never good news is there?” groaned Bones.

The expressions on everyone’s faces were grim.

Yet Hernandez’s words sparked an idea in Jim’s mind. “Can we alternate instead?”

“Sir?” asked Hernandez.

Scotty caught on. “The sensors! We can alternate which sensors we use to not stress the machines!”

Jim nodded, “Exactly. Scotty, how well can we do that? The sensors are tied together. Is there a way we can separate their operation so that we can use one at increased sensitivity and then switch to the other to prevent damage?”

Scotty was nodding before Jim even finished speaking. “Aye, Captain. I do not see why not. I will need to pull a few engineers in to monitor the sensors and provide preventive maintenance but it can be done.”

Hernandez also added with a lighter expression. “I‘m not the only one that Mr. Spock trained to change the sensitivity on the sensors. I can tap those scientists into shifts so the ship can have around the clock surveillance.”

“Good,” said Jim. “Now this Orion scout ship. What kind of capacities does it have, Cupcake?”

McCoy and Uhura both rolled their eyes. Hernandez’s eyes widened in surprise and Scotty grinned.

Freeman scowled at Jim before shifting his dark look to the picture of the out of focus Orion ship. “Intelligence reports don‘t have much. These ships have only been spotted in a handful of locations by Federation merchant vessels and even less by Starfleet ships. There's no information on crew numbers and the only weapons that have been verified are phasers.”

Jim blinked. “That‘s it? No photon torpedoes? Or even those weird web things the Tholians like?”

Freeman’s scowl grew deeper. “Not as far as we know. The only other information we have on them is that they‘re fast, capable of reaching warp 10. They probably haven’t had to use anything else. And probably that’s why that‘s the only intel we have on them.”

“If our lady was back on ‘er feet she would be able to move fast enough to avoid them,” said Scotty. “But there is no chance in ‘er present condition.”

“So they can out run us but maybe not out fight us,” said Jim, thinking. “This means that we will have to pick out ground where speed is not a factor that can be used if it turns into a fight. ”

“Like an asteroid field,” said Uhura, thoughtfully.

“Yes, exactly,” Jim grinned. He did love it when his crew was on his wavelength.

“We need an asteroid field that won‘t affect our sensors and but large enough so that the scout ship can‘t out run us when we spring our trap.”

Scotty’s eyes lit up with unholy glee. “We can mine the ‘ell out of it, Captain.”

Jim’s grin widened as he followed Scotty’s train of thought. “How many space mines can you make, Scotty?”

“I can start production on them as soon as the meeting is over,” said Scotty with a grin. He tapped Freeman‘s PADD that held the Orion scout ship information. “The 'ull of the ship is made of high density trititanium. That will make it 'arder to program the mines so that they are only triggered when they 'it it. That metal so damn bloody 'ard to sense.”

“It would be better if you also made them so that they won‘t arm until we trigger them to hem the Orion ship inside the field,” interrupted Freeman before Scotty could descend into a rant though he did have a grin beginning to curl at the corners of his mouth. “If we can set up a pen with the mines the Orions won‘t be able to escape us after we spring the trap on them.”

“Hernandez use the Astrometrics data to find us a few asteroid fields that fit our requirements near Starbase 42. Expand the search if there aren’t any near them,” Jim ordered. Hernandez nodded. “This is only the beginning of a plan, people. We still have an Orion ship on our asses. What else?”

“Medical bay is ready for any emergency,” said McCoy. He frowned at them all. “Not that we want any, you hear me.”

Jim tried to ignore the way that Bones’ glare was landing on him the most. It wasn’t like he went out of his way to get injured. Except that last time… and okay the time before that. So maybe Bones has a point, Jim mentally admitted, and promised to himself to never ever say it out loud.

“Starting tomorrow morning, security is going to be running through various drills,” said Freeman. He passed his PADD over to Jim for him to review. Jim scrolled through it quickly and nodded. “We‘ll be taking over a couple decks at a time running through attack simulations.”

“I want to add some of my emergency medics to these,” said McCoy, leaning over Jim’s shoulder to read along. “If we‘re going to be dealing with casualties, we don‘t want to run blockades held by our own people.”

“I thought you would, Doctor,” nodded Freeman. “The request for the medical personnel should already be in your inbox.”

Bones’ pleased and surprised expression made Jim hold in an amused snort. His friend had been battling with Starfleet about the procedures involving the use of medics in the field. There was a deep seated habit in Starfleet to protect the medical personnel when in the field and in the middle of battles. Fully trained doctors that had the expertise to serve in starships were rare and were more likely to be protected than allowed to go into danger. Which thoroughly defeated the point of medical training, as Bones had often grumbled at him.

Getting Cupcake to start using the Medical department and actually incorporating their training with the security officers had only taken a word in his ear from Jim. Well that and the promise to never, ever call him Cupcake in front of a superior officer, especially Admiral Pike. Only the fact that it was a promise for Bones’ sake made the loss of potential hilarious situation worth it.

“Lieutenant Uhura,” said Jim, dragging his mind away from the distraction mental pictures. “What kind of reactions are we hearing about the destruction of Space Station 23?”

Uhura took control of every eye in the room with ease. “There have been several claims from anti-Federation groups claiming responsibility, as well as some Romulan fringe groups. There hasn‘t been anything heard from the Klingons or the Orions. Just about the reaction that Intelligence expected to get.”

Jim nodded.

“I have also sent out feelers among my contacts for any sighting on men who meet Fox‘s description,” added Uhura, her eyes flickering with hints of hot anger. “There‘s no port in this sector of space that won‘t be looking for him.”

“Good,” said Jim, satisfied by her efforts. Uhura had an extensive list of contacts that could give any Intelligence agent a run for his money. Between every Communication officer in the ‘fleet which kept in contact with every other Communications officer, and Uhura’s use of family and friends that were scattered throughout the Federation that she could regularly tapped for information, and her ability to speak so many exotic languages with the fluency of native meant she had the tendency to charm a lot of those natives into the palm of her hand. All this had left her with lines of communication and information worthy of a master spy. If there was anyone who could find a Fox - if he was live - it would be Uhura’s network.

“Okay, everyone, we’re going to be meeting again tomorrow at 1300 hours,” said Jim. “Scotty, I want to get a report from you letting me know exactly how many mines you can get ready before we arrive at the starbase. And Cupcake, I want the results on those drills, as well as your recommendations to who you want on the tactical teams, as soon as possible.”

He got ‘Aye’s from everyone and the meeting broke up.

Jim began heading to the bridge to finish the last few hours of his shift and actually giving Chekov and Sulu the chance to get some rest when he noticed his friend had followed him into the turbolift. He shot a suspicious glance over at Bones.

“So… have you asked him?” asked McCoy, with entirely too much of an innocent look on his face.

“Asked who what?” asked Jim, eying him warily.

“Spock that‘s who!” smirked McCoy as he clapped Jim on the back. “Didn‘t you have a date to make?”

Stunned, it took Jim a moment to respond. “I hate you,” he said flatly.

“So you chickened out, huh?” McCoy’s smirk was even more insufferable.

“Bones!” groaned Jim. “Is this really the time?”

“You‘re the one that‘s worried about the kid being too young for all this space danger nonsense,” said McCoy, reasonably. “I gave you some great advice, so you can‘t blame me if I‘m rather curious to see if you followed through.”

Jim didn’t respond to that. Because… well… it was good advice. He just didn’t think he had the nerve to encourage a young teenage Spock’s crush on him when he was pretty damned certain the adult version felt no such thing.

“You just want to make fun of me,” Jim grumbled. The way that Bones damn near beamed at him certainly proved that true as well as succeeded in freaking him out. Jim was not used to Bones not being at least a little grumpy, at least not when he wasn’t drunk. It was surreal to the extreme.

“That‘s only an added benefit,” said McCoy, smugly.

The turbolift opened onto the bridge as Jim glowered at McCoy. “Go away, Bones and let me face the possible destruction at the hands of the Orions in peace.”

McCoy snorted in amusement behind him but let him exit without any more ribbing.

As Jim sat down in the command chair, he wasn’t able to resist using the computer to search for Spock’s location. Knowing the kid was now in the Science Department made him feel entirely too relieved and then grateful that Bones wasn’t around to see his reaction.

Before his mind could obsessively fixate on just exactly how he was going to deal with Spock, either ask him on a date or get ready to tell the kid that he was going to be sent back to Sarek as soon as they reached the starbase, Rand arrived with reports for him to sign.

Jim knew it didn’t say good things about the whole situation that he was actually rather glad to have tedious and annoying paperwork to deal for the rest of his shift instead.

He knew he as going to have to make up his mind.

Hey, but no one said he had to do it now.
*-*-*-*
TBC in [Part 23]

a/n: I have not abandoned the fic, in case any of you are worried. =D