How to Inefficiently Acquire a Human Male in 98.6 Earth Days -- Part 2 -- Hypothesis
Summary: When Jim Kirk joins the xenolinguistics club, Professor Spock is drawn to the cadet despite his better judgment. Soon, Spock finds himself in a friendship he never asked for, a relationship that is quickly evolving into something more than he can handle. In an effort to free himself from Kirk’s persistent affection, Spock makes use of his anthropological research on human relationships, which has unexpected consequences.
Inspired by the movie, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.
Rating: PG
Universe: AOS (Academy AU)
Pairings: Kirk/Spock, brief Kirk/Gaila
Plot Stuff: oblivious!Spock, clingy!Jim, romcom, plot devices, academy AU, brief break-up
Word Count: 30,385 total
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
As Kirk drove up to the curve Saturday night at 18:57, straddling a hover bike, Spock began to question the logic of agreeing to Kirk’s invitation.
Kirk turned off the ignition and removed himself from the vehicle, striding up to Spock where he waited outside his apartment building.
“Hey, Spock.” Kirk’s eyes moved in a southerly direction from Spock’s head to his toes. “Great outfit.” Spock looked down at himself. He was wearing his academy blacks.
“It was the uniform assigned to me by the academy. It is satisfactory.” Spock briefly wondered if he should have changed before his meeting with Kirk since the cadet was no longer in his uniform, instead informally dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a button up shirt. Ignorant of normal procedures for attire when meeting human males who professed to be one’s friend despite one’s protestations against the validity of this fact, Spock had remained in his uniform believing it to be the safest choice.
“It’s more than satisfactory. Always thought it suited you-fits good. No wonder you wear it all the time.”
“It is comfortable.” Perhaps Spock had made the correct wardrobe choice, after all.
“Ready to go? I brought an extra helmet, so you can ride behind me.” Kirk held up the aforementioned helmet toward Spock.
Spock stared at the helmet, then into Kirk’s face for any traces of human humor. “The length of the vehicle you arrived on is not conducive for multiple occupants.”
“What? Of course it is.” Kirk gave him a wide mouthed grin. “Don’t worry, I might not look it but I’m a safe driver. I even got Bones on the back once and he stopped complaining once I started driving and he realized it wasn’t so dangerous.” Kirk tapped the helmet against Spock’s chest. “Come on, I’ll show you.” Kirk turned and headed back to his bike, Spock trailing behind him.
“I do not understand why you would be carrying bones on the back of your vehicle or why you believe bones would have the similar weight and breadth as an adult Vulcan and therefore require similar safety measures.” Spock frowned. “Were they bones of a fully formed humanoid?”
Kirk laughed, swiping a hand through the air. “No, no! I’ve got you mixed up again. Bones is a friend. A human friend. His actual name is Leonard, but I call him Bones.”
“Why would you call a friend a name that is not his own. This is highly illogical.”
Kirk shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess nicknames are a form of affection-calling someone close to you a name that you created. Kind of like an endearment.”
“This is a strange custom.”
“It sure is,” Kirk said cheerfully. Turning toward Spock, the cadet placed the helmet on Spock’s head, tightening the straps before he had time to protest, which Spock ultimately would have, given the time. Now, with Kirk bare inches from his body, Kirk’s eyes too bright, and his smile too big, Spock’s protests died on his tongue.
“There, all set.” Kirk stared Spock in the eye for 1.2 seconds, before stepping away to the bike and throwing a leg over it. “Jump on.”
Spock remained still. “I do not jump.”
Kirk rolled his eyes, an exaggerated motion Spock had often seen his students perform after being assigning projects with a high level of difficulty. “Step on, then. Like I just did.”
Spock remained still. “There is an aircar stop 5.7 metres to the east. I would prefer a larger mode of transportation.”
Kirk gave Spock a serious look, one Spock had never seen in Kirk’s arsenal of facial expressions. “I’m here to give you a taste of the human experience, right? Well this is part of it.” He patted the seat directly behind him. “Get on, Spock. I wouldn’t dare take you for a ride on this thing if I didn’t know I could get you home safely.”
Spock watched Kirk for a moment. “You cannot predict unforeseen circumstances.” Despite his wariness, Spock approached the bike anyway. Kirk was correct on this occasion. Spock had deferred to the cadet’s knowledge on human behavior. A true scientist was not exclusive when participating in the activities of his current study. Spock tentatively placed a leg over the seat, sitting behind the cadet. Kirk started the engine.
“You’re gonna have to hold on.” Kirk moved his hips slightly from left to right.
Spock kept his hands placed firmly on his thighs. “That would not be wise.”
“Tough. Humans do a lot of stupid shit, and this is nothing compared to some things I’ve done.” Kirk looked over his shoulder to flash Spock a grin. “Hold on.” Before Spock could argue, Kirk accelerated, moving the bike out onto the street. The sudden movement startled Spock, and he grabbed Kirk’s waist to steady himself on the narrow seat.
“See!” Kirk yelled. “Not so difficult, was it?”
Spock did not respond. Now that his fingers had latched onto Kirk, the movement of the vehicle, and some feeling pushing against Spock’s mental shields, prevented him from loosening his grip. The heat from Kirk’s skin seeped through the fabric of his shirt, warming Spock’s hands. The sensation was not altogether unpleasant since the night was cooler than Spock was comfortable with. As Kirk maneuvered the bike to their eventual destination, Spock noticed himself leaning closer to Kirk’s body heat, the wind blowing in his face and the comforting warmth of Kirk’s back making an unsettling contrast.
Spock was relieved when Kirk pulled up in front of the restaurant and parked his bike. Twenty seven seconds passed as they sat in silence, the lights glowing through the restaurant windows enhancing the gold highlights in Kirk’s hair
Kirk half turned his head. “You can let go now, Spock.”
“Ah. Yes.” Spock replied, loosening his grip and releasing the cadet. His fingers, despite being warmed by Kirk’s body heat, felt numb.
Spock removed himself from the bike, his legs slightly cramped from their tight hold against the seat. Once on the ground, he straightened, watching Kirk remove himself from the vehicle and knock the kickstand into place. He faced Spock, with his customary smile. “So, not so terrifying?”
Spock straightened his shirt and folded his hands behind his back. “I commend you for keeping the hover bike stable during the duration of the trip and for not involving us in a motor vehicle accident. I am, as humans say, ‘still in one piece.’”
Spock derived an illogical pleasure in the smile his attempts at human lingo always initiated on Kirk’s face. “Well, since you enjoyed the ride I’ll have to take you out again.” Kirk touched Spock’s elbow for half a second. “Let’s eat, I’m starved.”
Spock chose not to remark on the hyperbolic statement, instead following Kirk silently into the restaurant. Once they were seated by their overly friendly waitress, Spock opened his menu, wondering if Kirk had the sensitivity to research Vulcan dietary habits before choosing this restaurant.
“They have loads of vegetarian options,” Kirk announced as if he had read Spock’s thoughts. “I’ve been here a few times with Bones and Gaila. The food is always great.” Spock noted Kirk’s menu remained closed on the table where the waitress had left it.
“I am unfamiliar with cuisine from the Italian region.” Spock closed his menu, placing it down beside Kirk’s. “I will once again defer to your expertise on this matter and ask you to recommend a vegetarian dish I may find appetizing.”
Kirk straightened from his slouch slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “You’ll let me order for you?”
“That is what I requested.”
“Cool. Sure.” Kirk tapped a finger on the table, thinking. “Last time I made the mistake of taking Bones out for dinner, I had the basil pesto pasta, so he’d shut up about my calorie count. It was so good, it made me rethink vegetarian food. You can have that and I’ll get one of their other veggie dishes, so we can share.” He lifted a hand to get the waitress’s attention. It was not Vulcan custom to share food and considered unhygienic. However, Spock was here to learn about human customs. He would endure the ritual.
Kirk ordered the basil pesto for Spock, and a feta cheese and olive pizza for himself. Apparently the pizzas at this establishment ‘were out of this world,’ and Kirk ‘couldn’t wait for Spock to try it, had Spock ever had pizza before?’ Spock learned that the pizza was not actually prepared off world, that ‘out of this world’ was a human colloquial statement for describing items that are deemed extraordinary in some way. Spock responded, that no, he had never tried pizza before and this initiated a lecture from Kirk about his admiration for the food item. Spock was not surprised Kirk’s friend, the aforementioned Bones, was concerned about Kirk’s caloric intake if the cadet placed such obsessive worth in food beyond its nutritional value.
After their discussion about cuisine, which began with Spock asking about different human dietary habits-this obsession with the sensation of taste, opposite to Vulcan’s purely nutritional interest in food, could be a possible subject for his paper-led to Kirk querying Spock about Vulcan cuisine.
“What’s your favorite food?” Kirk asked.
Spock did not have a favorite food, but often partook of plomeek soup. This remark preceded further questions about the soup’s ingredients. Although Spock doubted the Vulcan soup would appeal to human tastes, Kirk insisted on trying it, mentioning a restaurant Gaila had told him about that served dishes popular on other planets. He would check their menu, see if they made Plomeek soup. They could go there for their next ‘human lesson.’
Kirk placed his palms on the table with a slap. “So! Anything specific you wanna know about humans?” The waitress arrived with the bottle of wine Kirk had ordered, filling their glasses. Usually, Spock refused to drink alcohol. The substance did not have the same effect on Vulcan physiology as it did on humans. However, Kirk had insisted he ‘just try it, anyway.’ Spock was here to learn, so he would indeed try.
Spock took a tentative sip of the liquid. It was bitter with a sweet undertone, not entirely unpleasant. “Do all humans place value on acquiring as many friendships and romantic interests as possible?” Spock questioned, returning the glass to the table. “You do not possess an eidetic memory as Vulcans do. Does this not cause scheduling problems when meeting friends for social activities?”
Kirk appeared surprised. “Wait, what?”
Spock continued. “You have introduced me to many humanoids you claim to be your friends. You have also insisted that we are friends despite my protestations. I have also seen you engage in comments of a sexual nature with several individuals, often simultaneously.”
Kirk cleared his throat, glanced to the side and then turned back to Spock, folding his hands together. He shifted in his seat. Stillness was not one of Kirk’s virtues. “I guess I’m what you’d call a people person,” Kirk answered.
“That is not what I called you. Should I be calling you a people person?”
“Stop sassing me, Spock.” Kirk grinned.
“I am doing no such thing. Please continue.”
Kirk tapped a finger to his lips before refolding his hands. “I’m social. I feel more comfortable when I’m around other people, even if they don’t want me around. But no, not all humans are like that. Some people are more social than others.”
Spock considered this. “All of your acquaintances I have met seemed content in your presence.” Except perhaps Uhura who often rolled her eyes, or directed irritated facial expressions at Kirk when he was being especially uninhibited in his speech during club meetings. She did, however, laugh at approximately seventy percent of his humorous comments. This likely displayed a measure of affection toward Kirk.
Kirk grimaced. “Oh, yeah? Wait till you meet, Bones. He’s always telling me to get out of his face, but he’s a good guy. He just likes being alone in quiet spaces.” Spock was beginning to think this ‘Bones’ was a more logical human than most. “And what about you, Spock?” Kirk asked. “Are you content in my presence?”
“At the moment.”
Kirk picked up his wine glass. “Generous of you.”
“You did not give me significant information regarding your profusion of sexual partners.”
Kirk choked on the wine he had just swallowed. He required a few moments to clear his throat before recommencing their conversation, assuring Spock he did not require any medical assistance. “Always so blunt. Not one for dancing around the subject, are you?”
“As I stated three days ago, I do not dance.”
“Figure of speech. It means, you say what you mean.”
Spock frowned. “Why would I not say what I mean? Vulcans do not lie.”
Kirk shook his head. “I know, I know, you’ve told me that, too. But humans do, or a lot of them do. Say what they don’t mean. Lie.”
“Yes, I have observed this,” Spock answered. “Are you changing the subject of our conversation to avoid a topic you do not wish to discuss-that of your sexual relations?”
“God, Spock! No!” Kirk ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, maybe a bit.” He hesitated, the skin between his eyebrows creased. “I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick. Pretty sure I’m not getting as much action as you think I am.”
“I assume you are speaking in metaphors again regarding a stick we do not have. And, that by ‘action,’ you mean acts of a sexual nature.”
Kirk took an undisturbed sip of his wine. “You’re getting really good at deciphering human speech.”
Watching Kirk, Spock waited.
Kirk sighed circling a finger around the perimeter of his wine glass. “I flirt, sure-you know what flirting is, right?” Spock nodded once. “But most of the time it doesn’t go anywhere, and I don’t really expect it to. It’s just a game. No one really takes it seriously.”
“What about Cadet Vro? I had assumed you two were involved in a romantic relationship.”
“Ah, Gaila.” Kirk looked down at the table. “I really like her, but she’s not interested in anything serious. I was one of many-a friend’s with benefits sort of deal.”
“I see.” Spock chose not to analyze his feelings at this revelation. “And these benefits are sexual in nature.”
“Uh huh.”
“That does not bother you?” Although Spock knew humans did not always remain with the same mate for life, it seemed the norm among a majority of humans to be with a single partner at a time. This was not the case for Orions.
Kirk shrugged. “I can’t, and don’t, want to force her into being anything she’s not. But I couldn’t say no to her. Can you blame me? A smart gorgeous girl like that-something is better than nothing.” Kirk grinned pleasantly. Spock frowned. “Anyway, we ended the thing last week. Still friends, but no more benefits.”
Spock’s brows raised back into their image of neutrality. “You are not romantically involved with any other at this time, then?”
“Nope.” The waitress had returned with their meals. She placed Kirk’s pizza in front of him, a round, flat bread-like substance covered in red sauce and what Spock assumed were cheese and olives. The basil pesto dish had an enticing aroma, wheat noodles being the main ingredient.
“This smells so good. Thanks,” he nodded and smiled to the waitress. “Well,” he looked back at Spock. “Bon appetite!”
“You speak French?” Spock was momentarily impressed.
“No,” Kirk chuckled. “You can wipe that impressed look off your face.” Spock was certain no such expression had appeared on his face. “But everyone knows bon appetite.” Ignoring his utensils, Kirk grabbed a slice of the pizza with his fingers and took a bite. Spock blinked.
“You eat with your hands?”
“Mmhff,” Kirk mumbled through the food in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, a dot of sauce lingering on his lips which he cleaned off with a swipe of his tongue. “Pizza is meant to be eaten with your hands.” He finished the rest of the slice in two large bites, licking the remnants from his fingers. Spock looked away.
“Mmm, so good. Here wanna try some?” Spock glanced back to see another slice of the pizza looming in his face where Kirk was holding it in front of him. Kirk shook the slice slightly. “Do it for science!”
Spock’s eyes narrowed. “Is it customary to share food among humans?”
“Oh yeah, sure. It’s part of the fun.” Kirk shook the pizza again. “Take a bite.”
For the first time, Spock was compelled to partake in a human sigh. However, he restrained himself. “Very well.” Kirk had ordered the vegetarian dish for himself so Spock could also taste it. It would be rude to refuse. Spock bit off the tip of the pizza slice and chewed.
Kirk’s eye’s widened. “Like it?”
“It is quite flavourful.”
“I know, right? They sure know how to do pizza here. Try your pasta.” Kirk pushed the plate forward two millimeters. “Don’t worry, you can use your fork for that unless you wanna make a huge mess.”
“A huge mess would not be desirable.” Spock scooped his fork into his dish, yet the utensil was not suited to the task, as the long thin wheat products slipped back into the bowl.
Kirk was watching him with a grin. “It’s easier to eat pasta if you twirl your fork around the noodles. Like this.” Kirk picked up his unused fork, speared it into the noodles, and moved it in a circular motion. When he removed the fork, the noodles remained wrapped around the utensil. Kirk placed the fork in front of Spock’s lips. “Say ahh!”
This time, a barely discernible puff of air escaped Spock’s nostrils. His control was already slipping. “I am capable of feeding myself.” Spock moved his head slightly to the right.
Kirk moved the fork to follow Spock’s movements. “I know. No need to get all touchy.” Spock was feeling anything but touchy. “But, I already have food on my fork, in my hand, placed so conveniently in front of your mouth. It’d be illogical for you not to eat it.”
Spock glared at Kirk. “You are most persistent.”
“Yup. Persistent is my middle name.”
Spock raised an eyebrow. Kirk’s middle name was not Persistent, but Tiberius. Spock had read it on the cadet’s file. “Very well.” Spock took the fork into his mouth, removing the noodles. He chewed and swallowed. Kirk had made another edible choice-the pasta tasted satisfactory. Spock moved his fork back into the bowl and mimicked Kirk’s motions. “However, I require no further assistance with my meal.”
Kirk seemed content to watch Spock eat, resting his chin in his hand and his elbow on the table while Spock finished his pasta. “Should I offer you a portion of my meal, as you did?” Spock asked.
“Hmm?” Kirk smiled at him. “Oh. Only if you want to. As I said, I’ve already tried it.”
Spock reminded himself he was participating in a human ritual for, as Kirk had aptly stated, ‘science.’ He held a forkful of pasta up for Kirk. “Say, ahh.” He repeated in his usual monotone.
Kirk stared at Spock for a moment, his smile turning into a round O shaped pursing of his lips that transformed into a grin in a matter of seconds. Spock watched, mesmerized, as Kirk’s lips parted and moved to surround the fork, feeling the slight tug as Kirk moved the pasta off with his tongue in an astutely reduced amount of time than would be expected, keeping his eyes latched onto Spock’s during the whole rather obscene episode. Spock blinked and then placed his now empty fork back on the table. He required no further sustenance.
Kirk chewed on another slice of pizza. “Haven’t eaten much human food, have you?”
Spock focused his attention back on Kirk’s words. “Affirmative. Terran cuisine is often not to my taste. However these dishes have proved edible.”
Kirk grinned. “If there’s one thing I know well its food. And San Francisco is full of great restaurants. I’ll take you around, show you the best places.”
“Your offer is… most generous.”
Kirk licked sauce off his thumb. “Like I keep saying, we’re friends. You can ask me more nosey question if you want too. I aim to please.”
“The physiology of the human nose in not the focus of my research.”
According to Kirk, this was another human saying. Spock learned much human phraseology in the course of their meal, including: “rubbing him the wrong way,” which Kirk utilized regarding his aft mentioned friend, Bones; ‘break the ice,’ when Kirk insisted Spock answer a series of inane questions, such as ‘what’s your favourite colour;’ ‘butter him up,’ which Kirk used during another story involving Bones. However, the ‘buttering up’ failed in this particular instance; and ‘cat got your tongue,’ which was used after Kirk brushed a fleck of pasta sauce that was apparently attached to the left edge of Spock’s mouth. Kirk then insisted on familiarizing Spock with a number of human curse words, despite Spock’s disinterest in the matter. It was, over all, the most illuminating evening meal Spock had had in some time.
Spock was introduced to one last saying as they rose to leave the restaurant after paying for their meal. “Okay, Spock, time to bite the bullet,” Kirk announced.
“Clarify.”
“I’m taking you dancing.” Kirk held the door of the restaurant open, waiting for Spock to exit. Spock stilled.
“I must decline.
“No, you can’t! It’s for science.”
“You cannot use that excuse every time you mean to coerce me into acts I do not wish to participate in.”
Kirk visibly slouched. He would establish a back problem if he continued using such damaging posture. “Pretty, please?” Kirk’s voice had taken on a deeper tenor, his smile possessing a deviousness Spock found especially alarming. “Come on, you’re a curious guy, Spock. You like learning new things. Seriously, dancing is part of the human experience.”
Spock ignored him and walked through the open door, continuing to where Kirk’s hover bike was parked. The cadet followed. “You were really interested in the whole human relationships thing over dinner. Write your paper on romance. I bet your Vulcan friends would get a kick out of that. And, like I’ve said, dancing can play a part in human courtship.” Kirk tapped Spock on the shoulder. “I guarantee you’ll see some major romantic action at the club I’m gonna take you to. Some real face to face research material.”
Spock paused and turned, watching Kirk warily. “You speak truthfully? This is not another one of your ploys to force me into participating in human activities for your own amusement? ”
Kirk took a breath. “Yeah, of course.” He paused. “Well, it gives me a good excuse to spend more time with you, as well. But yeah, you’ll get some good research material at the club.”
Spock admitted to himself that this establishment did sound fascinating and could prove useful to his research if Kirk was not employing one of his frequently used hyperbolic statements. And, despite being occasionally overwhelming, Kirk’s company was not unpleasant, perhaps even stimulating. “Very well,” Spock yielded. “I will accompany you. However, I will not participate in the dancing.”
Kirk brightened. “Okay sure, whatever you say.” With a grin he hopped onto his hover bike, gesturing for Spock to take his place behind him. Kirk started the engine, and Spock was once again compelled to grip Kirk’s waist as they drove off.
*
The establishment Kirk brought Spock to was noisy and crowded. Kirk had claimed two seats at the bar after a human couple departed for the dance floor. After pushing his chair as far back against the bar as it would go, Spock found himself leaning toward Kirk to distance himself from the Orion who persisted on pressing half of her body against Spock’s as she lounged against the bar.
“Hey, he’s with me. Hands off.” Kirk addressed the Orion, directing a glare at her Spock assumed was meant to be intimidating. The Orion shrugged, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and wandered to the other end of the bar where a human male seemed more appreciative of her close proximity.
Kirk handed Spock a drink. “Free of chocolate and sucrose. Just like you asked.”
Spock sniffed the drink. “Thank you.” He took a small sip.
“I like how you treat everything I give you as if I’m trying to poison you.” Kirk took a deep swallow from the tall glass in his hand which was filled with a brown foamed liquid.
“I do not think you are trying to poison me. I am unfamiliar with many human beverages and am therefore unsure if they will have an unfavourable reaction on my digestive system.”
“Are you allergic to sugar, then?” Kirk asked.
“No. However, both cocoa and processed sugars are known to affect Vulcans similar to how alcohol affects humans.” Experiencing no disturbing sensations after the first sip of the drink, Spock indulged in another.
Kirk’s eyes widened. “Remind me to slip you a chocolate bar before the next xenolinguistics club meeting.”
“I will not. Being intoxicated while teaching would not be professional.” Frowning, Spock watched Kirk cough up part of his drink. “You are participating in the human act of ‘teasing.’”
“Yeah, a little,” Kirk chuckled.
“I see.” Spock directed his gaze to the dance floor where a multitude of couples and groups were engaged in erratic movements in time to a fast paced, often discordant, melody. Much physical stimulation was involved, occasionally in intimate areas.
“Wanna try?” Kirk had leaned closer, his breath tickling Spock’s ear.
Spock glanced at Kirk, then away. “I already reiterated my disinterest in dancing.”
“If your boyfriend’s not interested, I’ll spin you around.” A human male had approached and placed himself in the seat on Kirk’s other side. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties and not unattractive. The man placed an arm on the cadet’s shoulder. Spock raised an eyebrow.
Shifting away slightly, Kirk rested his hand on Spock’s knee. Spock flinched. “No, thanks,” Kirk replied. “I’m gonna stick with my boyfriend.”
“Your boyfriend doesn’t know how to treat hot stuff like you.” The man edged closer. “Forget him, I’ll show you a good time.”
Spock opened his mouth to debate the truth of this statement. From what he had learned observing humans, Spock believed ‘boyfriend’ was a term with romantic connotations. However, the light shake of his head and focused stare Kirk suddenly expressed, gave Spock pause. Kirk squeezed Spock’s knee, a tickling emotion buzzing though the transference.
Pressing his lips together, Spock remembered Kirk’s method with the Orion had been quite effective. “He is with me. Hands off,” Spock repeated, attempting to imitate Kirk’s tone and facial expression.
“Oh, yeah?” The man replied, stepping toward Spock. He could smell alcohol on the human’s breath. “Make me.” He wrapped an arm around Kirk’s shoulders.
“Very well.” Standing, Spock grabbed Kirk’s wrist and pulled him up from the chair, out of the man’s weaker grasp, and tugged Kirk toward the dance floor. The man yelled obscenities behind them, but did not follow.
Kirk was laughing rather hysterically behind him. “Congratulations,” Kirk said in between breathes. “You just survived your first human courtship ritual.”
“It was not difficult.” Spock came to a halt at the perimeter of the dance floor.
“Don’t speak so soon,” Kirk replied, moving to Spock’s front and wrapping his arms around Spock’s shoulders. “Now you gotta finish what you started and dance with me.”
“Is dancing your favourite pastime?” Spock asked, staring down at Kirk. “You are rather fixated on the activity.”
“Yeah, I like dancing.” Kirk leaned forward. Spock stepped back. “But mostly, I really want to dance with you.” Kirk moved forward again and Spock stepped back.
“If the ease with which you collect friendships is any indication, I am positive you would have no difficulty finding dance partners.” Taking Spock’s arm from where it lay stiffly against his side, Kirk placed it on his hip. “I am clearly unnecessary to your enjoyment of the activity.” Kirk repeated his motions with Spock’s other hand.
“Wrong,” Kirk murmured. “You.” Kirk’s body was three millimeters from Spock’s now. He could feel the brush of Kirk’s jacket again his torso. “Are very necessary.”
Spock did not reply. Indeed, he was not sure he could form words at this time. He was being bombarded with a rush of unfamiliar sensations and physical contact. All of Spock’s senses felt like they were on red alert.
“You look cute when you blush.” Kirk breathed against Spock’s jawline. The cadet had begun a swaying motion, perhaps a bare two centimeters back and forth. Spock closed his eyes in an attempt to rest at least one of his sensory inputs. The motion was both comforting and stimulating at the same time.
Spock’s fingers tensed against Kirk’s hips. “I do not blush,” Spock replied, barely a whisper. He had a sudden desire to close the remaining distance between them, press his body flush against Kirk’s and give in to the emotions flooding through him. He resisted.
“Say that to the green tinge across your cheeks.” Kirk’s right hand stroked Spock’s shoulder, moving down to his elbow and back up again.
“The reaction upon my skin is likely caused by the colourful lighting used by this establishment.” Spock swallowed. The sound echoed in his ears.
“Uh huh,” Kirk replied, amusement in his tone.
Spock was unsure how long they remained in this state, his sense of time clouded by all the other impressions clamoring for attention in his brain. Kirk was saying things to him and Spock was replying, shadows of emotions drifting from Kirk through to Spock. He was immensely grateful Kirk had the decency to keep his hands against Spock’s clothing instead of touching bare skin when his dissembled shields could do little to stop a clear transference. The idea of knowing Kirk’s thoughts so intimately disturbed Spock.
The rushing sound in Spock’s ears suddenly quieted and he opened his eyes. The music had ended and Kirk had stepped away, increasing their distance by 5.9 centimeters.
“Thanks for the dance, Spock,” Kirk smiled.
Spock blinked, blood rushing back to his fingers. “You are welcome.”
Kirk brushed a hand against Spock’s elbow. “Come on, I’ll buy you another drink and we can observe some more research subjects.”
“Yes,” Spock replied, simply, following Kirk. His legs were feeling slightly unstable. A chance to sit again would be beneficial.
*
Kirk’s ‘human lessons’ continued over the next thirteen days in the form of outings and conversation. The file Spock kept on his PADD with research notes was at 1.3 MB. Despite their invasive nature, Kirk willingly answered Spock’s questions and seemed keen to discuss anything related to human romance, often initiating the topic for discussion or providing Spock with ideas for his paper. Spock found Kirk to be an engaging conversationalist, his previous prejudice about the flippant cadet now replaced with admiration. He found himself seeking out Kirk’s company more frequently and objecting less to Kirk’s constant proximity.
Their conversations were not exclusively focused on Spock’s research but often diverged, at first on Kirk’s prompting only, but, after a time, also encouraged by Spock. They discussed space travel and starship tactics, Kirk’s multitude of classes, the difference between human and Vulcan cuisine, linguistics, hover bike mechanics-Kirk had offered to teach Spock how to ride, Spock had declined-and a multitude of other topics. When Kirk discovered that Spock played chess, the two played five games together, three of which Spock won, two of which, to Spock’s surprise, he lost.
After Spock again brought up Kirk’s decisions during Pike’s rescue simulation, the two spent the next thirty eight minutes arguing amicably about the ethical ramifications of the cadet’s judgments, Kirk adamant that taking risks for the chance of saving crew members was the obvious decision, while Spock debated Kirk’s logic. By the end of the debate, Spock was impressed with Kirk’s passion, but still wary of his impulsiveness, often triggered by human emotions. Although he wondered if some of his retorts, though rational, would cause Kirk offense, the cadet’s usual grin was spread across his face after they both ‘agreed to disagree.’ The next day, Kirk was just as eager to literally drag Spock with him to lunch in between classes and discuss a more difficult aspect of the cadet’s latest tactical class.
Kirk had blatantly brought up the Kobayashi Maru four more times and hinted at the topic a fifth time by expressing his interest in simulation programming. Spock had listened to the cadet’s tactical observations on the test, but made no comments of his own, nor answered any of Kirk’s questions. Eventually, Kirk changed the topic.
Unconsciously, Spock had become a willing friend of Jim Kirk’s. He admitted to himself, with some surprise, that this revelation was a positive one.
“Hey.” For once Kirk was first to arrive at the weekly xenolinguistics club meeting. His hair was slightly askew, several pieces sticking in gravity defying directions. His eyes were still filmy with sleep, casting a liquidness to his gaze that heightened the colour of his eyes.
“Cadet.” Spock felt his lips pull upward. “You are early.”
“Yeah, not late for once. Impressed?” Kirk smiled the smile that Spock preferred. A light tug of the lips that lifted them slightly to the right. It felt private, like it belonged to Spock, even though the idea of owning a smile that was not one’s own was illogical.
“I am gratified to see you putting in the effort expected of you to attend meetings on time as required and met by all other members of this group.”
“Harsh!” Kirk leaned lazily against one of the tables. “And I woke up half an hour early just so I could impress you for once.”
“Vulcans are not easily impressed, as I know you are aware.” He watched Kirk rub a single eye and then move a hand up through his hair, making the ends stand up more messily than before. “However, you are mistaken. You have impressed me on several occasions.”
Kirk straightened into a less lazy slouch, his eyes opened a few millimeters wider. “Really? Like when?”
Spock moved his hands to parade rest, straightening his spine in contrast to Kirk’s loose posture. “When you first joined this club, I expected nothing extraordinary from you. When you displayed a modicum of intelligence and commitment, I was momentarily impressed.”
Kirk stared at him for precisely one second before bursting into laughter. “So.” He said after catching his breath. “I impressed you by not being as stupid as you thought I was.”
“A generalization of my thoughts of you at the time, but essentially correct.”
“Well, high praise from a Vulcan, I suppose.” Kirk smiled his smile again, and stepped over, holding his arm up, a paper bag clutched in his hand. “Be nice. I brought you breakfast.”
Spock hesitated a moment before taking the bag and opening it. Inside was a breakfast sandwich and croissant-the bag’s logo he recognized from a local café frequented by academy students. “I even remembered to get the vegetarian option.” Kirk winked.
Spock had broken his fast two hours earlier, but he did not feel compelled to reveal this fact. “The sentiment is appreciated, but was unnecessary.”
“Yeah well, I do a lot of unnecessary things, especially for friends. Haven’t picked up on that, yet, smarty pants?”
Spock frowned. “I am not a piece of clothing. Intelligent or otherwise.”
“Another saying, Spock.” Kirk rubbed Spock’s arm. “Eat your breakfast. The food from Roy’s is the best. Once you try it, you won’t want to eat anything else for breakfast ever again.”
Spock unwrapped the breakfast sandwich and eyed it speculatively. It was not leaking with the usual grease Spock had come to associate with ‘student food.’ Kirk was watching him expectantly. “I will concede to your better judgment on this matter, Cadet.” He took a bite.
Kirk watched him chew, eyes focused on Spock’s mouth. “You know, you should really call me Jim.”
Spock swallowed. The sandwich was appetizing. As in other human topics, Kirk was proving an expert on the matter of Terran cuisine. “It is Starfleet procedure to address one by their rank or surname.” Spock took another bite of his sandwich.
“I know. But, when we’re alone, or outside the academy, you can call me Jim. It’s much more friendly. And I brought you breakfast, so it’s official, we’re friends.”
As he finished the sandwich, Spock watched Kirk. He did not want to call the cadet Jim. It lifted another boundary between them, one of the few that were remaining as Kirk continually stepped past them without thought. Indeed, by accepting the meal Kirk had brought, Spock had likely stepped through one of his own boundaries.
“Come on, Spock. I know you can do it. Calling me by my first name can be part of your human studies. Jim,” Kirk enunciated his name, his full lips fluttering over his teeth. “Jim. It’s easy, one syllable.”
Spock felt powerless again-where was his self-control? Ever since he placed his hands on Kirk’s waist during their first hover bike ride, it had been slowly evaporating like the water in his mother’s garden on Vulcan. He took a single breath.
“Jim.”
Kirk grinned, and Spock suddenly felt better about abandoning formality. “Thanks, Spock.”
“Thanks are unnecessary.”
“Don’t care. Saying it anyway. With one simple syllable you’ve made my day.” Spock observed that Kirk was easily pleased. No wonder he was always smiling over unextraordinary matters. “So. Picked a topic for your paper, yet?”
Spock picked up the croissant. “Upon your suggestion, I have chosen to focus my writing on human romantic relationships. The rituals involved are different from those of Vulcan and would therefore be of interest to my colleagues.”
“Sounds like a plan. Let me know if you need any more intel.” Kirk glanced down at Spock’s hands. “How was the sandwich?”
“Satisfactory.” He eyed the croissant briefly before taking a bite. At that moment, the door opened, and Uhura stepped in, halting when she saw them. Spock swallowed quickly and placed the pastry back in its bag.
“Hey, Uhura!” Kirk greeted her with a small wave.
“You’re early,” she replied.
Kirk snorted. “Yeah, that’s what Spock said. I’m trying to improve my slovenly ways.”
Uhura raised her eyebrows and glanced from Kirk to Spock and then back again. “Good luck with that.”
“Ye of little faith.” Kirk shook his head and took his usual seat. Behind Uhura trailed Vro, and shortly after the rest of the club’s members. Spock picked up Kirk’s breakfast and placed it aside for later consumption.
*
“He’s after you.”
“Excuse me?” Spock turned. Behind him stood Cadet Uhura, hands placed firmly on her hips.
“Kirk. He’s after you,” she repeated.
“After me? I do not comprehend. Are we involved in a race I was not informed of?” Spock was piling his instructional material away in his bag along with the abandoned croissant. The rest of the group had rushed off to their next classes, extracurriculars, or lunch. Before leaving, Kirk had caught Spock’s eye to give him a penetrating smile.
“Okay, I’m going to be blunt. I think Kirk’s using you.”
Spock blinked. He was finding it difficult to formulate a response.
“You have been misinformed,” he managed to reply. “Cadet Kirk has offered to assist me with my study on human social norms and customs for my VSA anthropological paper. If anyone has been making use of anyone, it has been me.”
“He’s doing it to impress you. Trust me. The guy could charm his way out of a paper bag.” Uhura huffed. Spock did not know what paper bags had to do with Cadet Kirk., but noted the phrase away to ask Kirk about it later.
“Has Cadet Kirk told you this?”
Uhura shook her head. “No. Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this since I didn’t hear the whole conversation,” she hesitated. “But, I overheard him talking to his friend Leonard about you. Kirk was betting him he could win you over and beat the Kobayashi Maru test.”
Spock attempted to keep his face neutral and ignore the twitch fluttering between his eyebrows. “Perhaps you misunderstood. The cadet and I have spent several evenings in each other’s company discussing matters of human and Vulcan culture, and,” Spock thought it unwise to mention the impromptu dance lesson or the hover bike rides, “various recreational activities, none of which involved me being ‘won over’ as I have come to understand the term.”
“Are you sure?” Uhura asked, disbelief evident in her tone. “He never tried to drag you to his place, or sneak into yours?”
“Negative.” Spock crossed his arms behind his back.
“Hmm.” Uhura tapped her fingers against a hip. “Has he been bothering you about the Kobayashi Maru test? He’s been obsessing about it to everyone else, even tried to convince Gaila to give him the simulation access codes.”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “He has mentioned the test and his determination to pass it. However, I have provided no sensitive information about the simulation.”
Uhura shifted. “No, of course you haven’t. Sorry, Professor,” she grimaced. “I’m probably being overly protective. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Kirk can be pretty charismatic, maybe even to a Vulcan.”
“I appreciate your concern, Cadet. But as I am Vulcan, I am not susceptible to Kirk’s whiles, if he is, as you believe, using them upon me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to prepare for.”
Uhura watched him with a small smile. “Of course, Commander.”
As Spock left the room, he had trouble pushing Uhura’s suspicions from his mind. It was unlike him to admit such a thing, but Spock could not deny he was enjoying his time with Kirk. The cadet was intelligent, and his conversation, however mired in the usual human incomprehensibility, was diverting and, dare he say it, amusing. Kirk seemed unfazed by Spock’s Vulcan reticence, a refreshing change from most of the humans of his acquaintance.
But, if Uhura was correct, and Kirk was forming an attachment to Spock as a means to acquire information about the Kobayashi Maru test-Spock found the thought most unpleasant. In fact, it stirred the hint of an emotion that burned at the back of Spock’s skull.
Kirk had outright asked Spock for information about the test, and when he refused the cadet had laughed it off. He had mentioned the Kobayashi Maru again during other conversations and Spock knew Kirk enjoyed a challenge, was a risk taker, and denied the existence of no-win scenarios. Had Kirk initiating a friendship with Spock, and possibly a slow building courtship, with the intention of ensnaring Spock’s trust in order to gain information on the Kobayashi Maru?
It seemed a little far-fetched. Despite his nonchalant façade, Kirk was intelligent and devoted to his Starfleet studies. The long hours he spent holed up in the library, sitting in extra classes, joining the xenolinguistics club, and discussing topics on physics, diplomacy and tactics with Spock, proved this. Spock did not want to believe Kirk would cheat his way through a test, even if it ensured him the success he so coveted. Yet, Kirk was a puzzle Spock was slowly putting together. Despite their many interactions, he was far from seeing the whole man.
Spock was suddenly reminded of his conversation with Kirk when the two had gone for their celebratory drink after Pike’s rescue simulation. ‘Isn’t doing whatever you can to save your crew the important thing, even if it is unethical?’ Kirk had effused his expression serious, eyes bright with emotion and intoxication after an excessive amount of alcohol.
Spock thought his logic was unshakable. But Kirk, with his easy acceptance and gratifying companionship, his laughing eyes and earnest touch that warmed Spock even when the temperature was below satisfactory for a Vulcan, had slipped through Spock’s barriers and obscured his judgment. Vulcans were not meant to participate in acts of friendship. It might be wise, Spock considered, to distance himself from Kirk, whatever the cadet’s motives were.
*
“We. Are. Done.”
Spock halted his progress through the academy’s courtyard, recognizing the voice raised in obvious distress. Cadet Vro was engaged in a verbal encounter with a human cadet. This was not the first argument he had observed Gaila involved in in public.
After her human companion departed, an unpleasant expression on his face, Spock approached. “You seem well acquainted with human males.”
Vro started, turned toward Spock, and then frowned, a small quirk on her lips. “Are you about to lecture me, Professor? Because if you are, I have a class to get to.”
“Negative. I wish to,” Spock considered his phrasing, “ask your advice.”
“Oh ho!” Vro raised her brows, forming a rather disconcerting smile. “Having problems with your own human male? What is it, tell me. Not answering your calls? Is he being too withdrawn? Doesn’t bathe enough? Or, he can’t get it up?” She covered her mouth, clearly horrified, Spock was unsure why. “Poor, Professor Spock!”
Vro had clearly misconstrued the specifics of his dilemma. “None of these problems relate to my own.” Spock answered. “I am attempting to distance myself from the human male in question. However, the more frequently I refuse his requests to spend time together, the more often he insists that we do.” Spock had turned down three of Kirk’s offers to ‘hang out’ for breakfast, lunch and dinner last week. In response, Kirk had doubled his requests. Even though Spock had insisted he did not desire a friendship, that he found the social experience too trying for his Vulcan sensibilities, that he found Kirk, himself, too overwhelming, the cadet was not taking no for an answer. Kirk was convinced Spock ‘just needed some more time to warm up to him.’ The comment brought to mind the memory of Kirk’s body heat warming his chilled fingers during their hover bike rides. If anything, Spock needed cooling down.
Vro nodded. “I see, not getting the message, is he?”
“Clearly not.”
“Okay, you’re obviously going about this the wrong way, Professor. He probably thinks you’re playing hard to get.”
“Please clarify.”
“It’s a game humans play when they’re interested in each other. They pretend they’re not attracted to someone when they really are. Human boys love it. It’s like hunting. The prey runs away and the predator chases it down. It must speak to their inner caveman roots.”
Spock quirked an eyebrow. “Fascinating.” Kirk was attempting to hunt him? If this was true, humans were barely evolved beyond pre-Surakian Vulcans. His decision to alleviate himself of Kirk was undoubtedly a wise one.
“Isn’t it?” Vro’s grin expanded. “Anyway, if you wanna ditch this boy, you have to do the opposite of what you’re doing. Get all clingy, really overdo it. Make declarations of love in public. Leave some of your belongings at his house like you’re marking the space your own. That’ll scare him off real quick.”
“Illogical.”
“It sure is, but nothing works better.” Vro twirled a strand of her hair around a finger. “I’ve used this method on a number of pesky humans I’ve had trouble getting rid of.”
“I see.” Vro’s prescribed method troubled Spock. It was not only illogical, but also deceptive. It went against Spock’s nature, yet the idea fascinated his scientific curiosity. Humans truly were opposite in disposition to Vulcans. This could be an illuminating experiment, one that would enhance his paper on human relationships, as well as performing the necessary duty of defriending Kirk.
“Thank you, Cadet. Your ideas have proven most instructive.”
“Good luck, Professor! You let me know if you need any more advice.” She winked. “Kirk’s tougher than he looks.”
Spock raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it. It should not surprise him that an Orion was able to discern the subject of his predicament. Instead, Spock simply nodded his thanks and turned to leave, a title for his paper already forming in his mind. He would submit his proposal to T’Pring tonight.
*
Part 3
Inspired by the movie, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.
Rating: PG
Universe: AOS (Academy AU)
Pairings: Kirk/Spock, brief Kirk/Gaila
Plot Stuff: oblivious!Spock, clingy!Jim, romcom, plot devices, academy AU, brief break-up
Word Count: 30,385 total
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
As Kirk drove up to the curve Saturday night at 18:57, straddling a hover bike, Spock began to question the logic of agreeing to Kirk’s invitation.
Kirk turned off the ignition and removed himself from the vehicle, striding up to Spock where he waited outside his apartment building.
“Hey, Spock.” Kirk’s eyes moved in a southerly direction from Spock’s head to his toes. “Great outfit.” Spock looked down at himself. He was wearing his academy blacks.
“It was the uniform assigned to me by the academy. It is satisfactory.” Spock briefly wondered if he should have changed before his meeting with Kirk since the cadet was no longer in his uniform, instead informally dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a button up shirt. Ignorant of normal procedures for attire when meeting human males who professed to be one’s friend despite one’s protestations against the validity of this fact, Spock had remained in his uniform believing it to be the safest choice.
“It’s more than satisfactory. Always thought it suited you-fits good. No wonder you wear it all the time.”
“It is comfortable.” Perhaps Spock had made the correct wardrobe choice, after all.
“Ready to go? I brought an extra helmet, so you can ride behind me.” Kirk held up the aforementioned helmet toward Spock.
Spock stared at the helmet, then into Kirk’s face for any traces of human humor. “The length of the vehicle you arrived on is not conducive for multiple occupants.”
“What? Of course it is.” Kirk gave him a wide mouthed grin. “Don’t worry, I might not look it but I’m a safe driver. I even got Bones on the back once and he stopped complaining once I started driving and he realized it wasn’t so dangerous.” Kirk tapped the helmet against Spock’s chest. “Come on, I’ll show you.” Kirk turned and headed back to his bike, Spock trailing behind him.
“I do not understand why you would be carrying bones on the back of your vehicle or why you believe bones would have the similar weight and breadth as an adult Vulcan and therefore require similar safety measures.” Spock frowned. “Were they bones of a fully formed humanoid?”
Kirk laughed, swiping a hand through the air. “No, no! I’ve got you mixed up again. Bones is a friend. A human friend. His actual name is Leonard, but I call him Bones.”
“Why would you call a friend a name that is not his own. This is highly illogical.”
Kirk shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess nicknames are a form of affection-calling someone close to you a name that you created. Kind of like an endearment.”
“This is a strange custom.”
“It sure is,” Kirk said cheerfully. Turning toward Spock, the cadet placed the helmet on Spock’s head, tightening the straps before he had time to protest, which Spock ultimately would have, given the time. Now, with Kirk bare inches from his body, Kirk’s eyes too bright, and his smile too big, Spock’s protests died on his tongue.
“There, all set.” Kirk stared Spock in the eye for 1.2 seconds, before stepping away to the bike and throwing a leg over it. “Jump on.”
Spock remained still. “I do not jump.”
Kirk rolled his eyes, an exaggerated motion Spock had often seen his students perform after being assigning projects with a high level of difficulty. “Step on, then. Like I just did.”
Spock remained still. “There is an aircar stop 5.7 metres to the east. I would prefer a larger mode of transportation.”
Kirk gave Spock a serious look, one Spock had never seen in Kirk’s arsenal of facial expressions. “I’m here to give you a taste of the human experience, right? Well this is part of it.” He patted the seat directly behind him. “Get on, Spock. I wouldn’t dare take you for a ride on this thing if I didn’t know I could get you home safely.”
Spock watched Kirk for a moment. “You cannot predict unforeseen circumstances.” Despite his wariness, Spock approached the bike anyway. Kirk was correct on this occasion. Spock had deferred to the cadet’s knowledge on human behavior. A true scientist was not exclusive when participating in the activities of his current study. Spock tentatively placed a leg over the seat, sitting behind the cadet. Kirk started the engine.
“You’re gonna have to hold on.” Kirk moved his hips slightly from left to right.
Spock kept his hands placed firmly on his thighs. “That would not be wise.”
“Tough. Humans do a lot of stupid shit, and this is nothing compared to some things I’ve done.” Kirk looked over his shoulder to flash Spock a grin. “Hold on.” Before Spock could argue, Kirk accelerated, moving the bike out onto the street. The sudden movement startled Spock, and he grabbed Kirk’s waist to steady himself on the narrow seat.
“See!” Kirk yelled. “Not so difficult, was it?”
Spock did not respond. Now that his fingers had latched onto Kirk, the movement of the vehicle, and some feeling pushing against Spock’s mental shields, prevented him from loosening his grip. The heat from Kirk’s skin seeped through the fabric of his shirt, warming Spock’s hands. The sensation was not altogether unpleasant since the night was cooler than Spock was comfortable with. As Kirk maneuvered the bike to their eventual destination, Spock noticed himself leaning closer to Kirk’s body heat, the wind blowing in his face and the comforting warmth of Kirk’s back making an unsettling contrast.
Spock was relieved when Kirk pulled up in front of the restaurant and parked his bike. Twenty seven seconds passed as they sat in silence, the lights glowing through the restaurant windows enhancing the gold highlights in Kirk’s hair
Kirk half turned his head. “You can let go now, Spock.”
“Ah. Yes.” Spock replied, loosening his grip and releasing the cadet. His fingers, despite being warmed by Kirk’s body heat, felt numb.
Spock removed himself from the bike, his legs slightly cramped from their tight hold against the seat. Once on the ground, he straightened, watching Kirk remove himself from the vehicle and knock the kickstand into place. He faced Spock, with his customary smile. “So, not so terrifying?”
Spock straightened his shirt and folded his hands behind his back. “I commend you for keeping the hover bike stable during the duration of the trip and for not involving us in a motor vehicle accident. I am, as humans say, ‘still in one piece.’”
Spock derived an illogical pleasure in the smile his attempts at human lingo always initiated on Kirk’s face. “Well, since you enjoyed the ride I’ll have to take you out again.” Kirk touched Spock’s elbow for half a second. “Let’s eat, I’m starved.”
Spock chose not to remark on the hyperbolic statement, instead following Kirk silently into the restaurant. Once they were seated by their overly friendly waitress, Spock opened his menu, wondering if Kirk had the sensitivity to research Vulcan dietary habits before choosing this restaurant.
“They have loads of vegetarian options,” Kirk announced as if he had read Spock’s thoughts. “I’ve been here a few times with Bones and Gaila. The food is always great.” Spock noted Kirk’s menu remained closed on the table where the waitress had left it.
“I am unfamiliar with cuisine from the Italian region.” Spock closed his menu, placing it down beside Kirk’s. “I will once again defer to your expertise on this matter and ask you to recommend a vegetarian dish I may find appetizing.”
Kirk straightened from his slouch slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “You’ll let me order for you?”
“That is what I requested.”
“Cool. Sure.” Kirk tapped a finger on the table, thinking. “Last time I made the mistake of taking Bones out for dinner, I had the basil pesto pasta, so he’d shut up about my calorie count. It was so good, it made me rethink vegetarian food. You can have that and I’ll get one of their other veggie dishes, so we can share.” He lifted a hand to get the waitress’s attention. It was not Vulcan custom to share food and considered unhygienic. However, Spock was here to learn about human customs. He would endure the ritual.
Kirk ordered the basil pesto for Spock, and a feta cheese and olive pizza for himself. Apparently the pizzas at this establishment ‘were out of this world,’ and Kirk ‘couldn’t wait for Spock to try it, had Spock ever had pizza before?’ Spock learned that the pizza was not actually prepared off world, that ‘out of this world’ was a human colloquial statement for describing items that are deemed extraordinary in some way. Spock responded, that no, he had never tried pizza before and this initiated a lecture from Kirk about his admiration for the food item. Spock was not surprised Kirk’s friend, the aforementioned Bones, was concerned about Kirk’s caloric intake if the cadet placed such obsessive worth in food beyond its nutritional value.
After their discussion about cuisine, which began with Spock asking about different human dietary habits-this obsession with the sensation of taste, opposite to Vulcan’s purely nutritional interest in food, could be a possible subject for his paper-led to Kirk querying Spock about Vulcan cuisine.
“What’s your favorite food?” Kirk asked.
Spock did not have a favorite food, but often partook of plomeek soup. This remark preceded further questions about the soup’s ingredients. Although Spock doubted the Vulcan soup would appeal to human tastes, Kirk insisted on trying it, mentioning a restaurant Gaila had told him about that served dishes popular on other planets. He would check their menu, see if they made Plomeek soup. They could go there for their next ‘human lesson.’
Kirk placed his palms on the table with a slap. “So! Anything specific you wanna know about humans?” The waitress arrived with the bottle of wine Kirk had ordered, filling their glasses. Usually, Spock refused to drink alcohol. The substance did not have the same effect on Vulcan physiology as it did on humans. However, Kirk had insisted he ‘just try it, anyway.’ Spock was here to learn, so he would indeed try.
Spock took a tentative sip of the liquid. It was bitter with a sweet undertone, not entirely unpleasant. “Do all humans place value on acquiring as many friendships and romantic interests as possible?” Spock questioned, returning the glass to the table. “You do not possess an eidetic memory as Vulcans do. Does this not cause scheduling problems when meeting friends for social activities?”
Kirk appeared surprised. “Wait, what?”
Spock continued. “You have introduced me to many humanoids you claim to be your friends. You have also insisted that we are friends despite my protestations. I have also seen you engage in comments of a sexual nature with several individuals, often simultaneously.”
Kirk cleared his throat, glanced to the side and then turned back to Spock, folding his hands together. He shifted in his seat. Stillness was not one of Kirk’s virtues. “I guess I’m what you’d call a people person,” Kirk answered.
“That is not what I called you. Should I be calling you a people person?”
“Stop sassing me, Spock.” Kirk grinned.
“I am doing no such thing. Please continue.”
Kirk tapped a finger to his lips before refolding his hands. “I’m social. I feel more comfortable when I’m around other people, even if they don’t want me around. But no, not all humans are like that. Some people are more social than others.”
Spock considered this. “All of your acquaintances I have met seemed content in your presence.” Except perhaps Uhura who often rolled her eyes, or directed irritated facial expressions at Kirk when he was being especially uninhibited in his speech during club meetings. She did, however, laugh at approximately seventy percent of his humorous comments. This likely displayed a measure of affection toward Kirk.
Kirk grimaced. “Oh, yeah? Wait till you meet, Bones. He’s always telling me to get out of his face, but he’s a good guy. He just likes being alone in quiet spaces.” Spock was beginning to think this ‘Bones’ was a more logical human than most. “And what about you, Spock?” Kirk asked. “Are you content in my presence?”
“At the moment.”
Kirk picked up his wine glass. “Generous of you.”
“You did not give me significant information regarding your profusion of sexual partners.”
Kirk choked on the wine he had just swallowed. He required a few moments to clear his throat before recommencing their conversation, assuring Spock he did not require any medical assistance. “Always so blunt. Not one for dancing around the subject, are you?”
“As I stated three days ago, I do not dance.”
“Figure of speech. It means, you say what you mean.”
Spock frowned. “Why would I not say what I mean? Vulcans do not lie.”
Kirk shook his head. “I know, I know, you’ve told me that, too. But humans do, or a lot of them do. Say what they don’t mean. Lie.”
“Yes, I have observed this,” Spock answered. “Are you changing the subject of our conversation to avoid a topic you do not wish to discuss-that of your sexual relations?”
“God, Spock! No!” Kirk ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, maybe a bit.” He hesitated, the skin between his eyebrows creased. “I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick. Pretty sure I’m not getting as much action as you think I am.”
“I assume you are speaking in metaphors again regarding a stick we do not have. And, that by ‘action,’ you mean acts of a sexual nature.”
Kirk took an undisturbed sip of his wine. “You’re getting really good at deciphering human speech.”
Watching Kirk, Spock waited.
Kirk sighed circling a finger around the perimeter of his wine glass. “I flirt, sure-you know what flirting is, right?” Spock nodded once. “But most of the time it doesn’t go anywhere, and I don’t really expect it to. It’s just a game. No one really takes it seriously.”
“What about Cadet Vro? I had assumed you two were involved in a romantic relationship.”
“Ah, Gaila.” Kirk looked down at the table. “I really like her, but she’s not interested in anything serious. I was one of many-a friend’s with benefits sort of deal.”
“I see.” Spock chose not to analyze his feelings at this revelation. “And these benefits are sexual in nature.”
“Uh huh.”
“That does not bother you?” Although Spock knew humans did not always remain with the same mate for life, it seemed the norm among a majority of humans to be with a single partner at a time. This was not the case for Orions.
Kirk shrugged. “I can’t, and don’t, want to force her into being anything she’s not. But I couldn’t say no to her. Can you blame me? A smart gorgeous girl like that-something is better than nothing.” Kirk grinned pleasantly. Spock frowned. “Anyway, we ended the thing last week. Still friends, but no more benefits.”
Spock’s brows raised back into their image of neutrality. “You are not romantically involved with any other at this time, then?”
“Nope.” The waitress had returned with their meals. She placed Kirk’s pizza in front of him, a round, flat bread-like substance covered in red sauce and what Spock assumed were cheese and olives. The basil pesto dish had an enticing aroma, wheat noodles being the main ingredient.
“This smells so good. Thanks,” he nodded and smiled to the waitress. “Well,” he looked back at Spock. “Bon appetite!”
“You speak French?” Spock was momentarily impressed.
“No,” Kirk chuckled. “You can wipe that impressed look off your face.” Spock was certain no such expression had appeared on his face. “But everyone knows bon appetite.” Ignoring his utensils, Kirk grabbed a slice of the pizza with his fingers and took a bite. Spock blinked.
“You eat with your hands?”
“Mmhff,” Kirk mumbled through the food in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, a dot of sauce lingering on his lips which he cleaned off with a swipe of his tongue. “Pizza is meant to be eaten with your hands.” He finished the rest of the slice in two large bites, licking the remnants from his fingers. Spock looked away.
“Mmm, so good. Here wanna try some?” Spock glanced back to see another slice of the pizza looming in his face where Kirk was holding it in front of him. Kirk shook the slice slightly. “Do it for science!”
Spock’s eyes narrowed. “Is it customary to share food among humans?”
“Oh yeah, sure. It’s part of the fun.” Kirk shook the pizza again. “Take a bite.”
For the first time, Spock was compelled to partake in a human sigh. However, he restrained himself. “Very well.” Kirk had ordered the vegetarian dish for himself so Spock could also taste it. It would be rude to refuse. Spock bit off the tip of the pizza slice and chewed.
Kirk’s eye’s widened. “Like it?”
“It is quite flavourful.”
“I know, right? They sure know how to do pizza here. Try your pasta.” Kirk pushed the plate forward two millimeters. “Don’t worry, you can use your fork for that unless you wanna make a huge mess.”
“A huge mess would not be desirable.” Spock scooped his fork into his dish, yet the utensil was not suited to the task, as the long thin wheat products slipped back into the bowl.
Kirk was watching him with a grin. “It’s easier to eat pasta if you twirl your fork around the noodles. Like this.” Kirk picked up his unused fork, speared it into the noodles, and moved it in a circular motion. When he removed the fork, the noodles remained wrapped around the utensil. Kirk placed the fork in front of Spock’s lips. “Say ahh!”
This time, a barely discernible puff of air escaped Spock’s nostrils. His control was already slipping. “I am capable of feeding myself.” Spock moved his head slightly to the right.
Kirk moved the fork to follow Spock’s movements. “I know. No need to get all touchy.” Spock was feeling anything but touchy. “But, I already have food on my fork, in my hand, placed so conveniently in front of your mouth. It’d be illogical for you not to eat it.”
Spock glared at Kirk. “You are most persistent.”
“Yup. Persistent is my middle name.”
Spock raised an eyebrow. Kirk’s middle name was not Persistent, but Tiberius. Spock had read it on the cadet’s file. “Very well.” Spock took the fork into his mouth, removing the noodles. He chewed and swallowed. Kirk had made another edible choice-the pasta tasted satisfactory. Spock moved his fork back into the bowl and mimicked Kirk’s motions. “However, I require no further assistance with my meal.”
Kirk seemed content to watch Spock eat, resting his chin in his hand and his elbow on the table while Spock finished his pasta. “Should I offer you a portion of my meal, as you did?” Spock asked.
“Hmm?” Kirk smiled at him. “Oh. Only if you want to. As I said, I’ve already tried it.”
Spock reminded himself he was participating in a human ritual for, as Kirk had aptly stated, ‘science.’ He held a forkful of pasta up for Kirk. “Say, ahh.” He repeated in his usual monotone.
Kirk stared at Spock for a moment, his smile turning into a round O shaped pursing of his lips that transformed into a grin in a matter of seconds. Spock watched, mesmerized, as Kirk’s lips parted and moved to surround the fork, feeling the slight tug as Kirk moved the pasta off with his tongue in an astutely reduced amount of time than would be expected, keeping his eyes latched onto Spock’s during the whole rather obscene episode. Spock blinked and then placed his now empty fork back on the table. He required no further sustenance.
Kirk chewed on another slice of pizza. “Haven’t eaten much human food, have you?”
Spock focused his attention back on Kirk’s words. “Affirmative. Terran cuisine is often not to my taste. However these dishes have proved edible.”
Kirk grinned. “If there’s one thing I know well its food. And San Francisco is full of great restaurants. I’ll take you around, show you the best places.”
“Your offer is… most generous.”
Kirk licked sauce off his thumb. “Like I keep saying, we’re friends. You can ask me more nosey question if you want too. I aim to please.”
“The physiology of the human nose in not the focus of my research.”
According to Kirk, this was another human saying. Spock learned much human phraseology in the course of their meal, including: “rubbing him the wrong way,” which Kirk utilized regarding his aft mentioned friend, Bones; ‘break the ice,’ when Kirk insisted Spock answer a series of inane questions, such as ‘what’s your favourite colour;’ ‘butter him up,’ which Kirk used during another story involving Bones. However, the ‘buttering up’ failed in this particular instance; and ‘cat got your tongue,’ which was used after Kirk brushed a fleck of pasta sauce that was apparently attached to the left edge of Spock’s mouth. Kirk then insisted on familiarizing Spock with a number of human curse words, despite Spock’s disinterest in the matter. It was, over all, the most illuminating evening meal Spock had had in some time.
Spock was introduced to one last saying as they rose to leave the restaurant after paying for their meal. “Okay, Spock, time to bite the bullet,” Kirk announced.
“Clarify.”
“I’m taking you dancing.” Kirk held the door of the restaurant open, waiting for Spock to exit. Spock stilled.
“I must decline.
“No, you can’t! It’s for science.”
“You cannot use that excuse every time you mean to coerce me into acts I do not wish to participate in.”
Kirk visibly slouched. He would establish a back problem if he continued using such damaging posture. “Pretty, please?” Kirk’s voice had taken on a deeper tenor, his smile possessing a deviousness Spock found especially alarming. “Come on, you’re a curious guy, Spock. You like learning new things. Seriously, dancing is part of the human experience.”
Spock ignored him and walked through the open door, continuing to where Kirk’s hover bike was parked. The cadet followed. “You were really interested in the whole human relationships thing over dinner. Write your paper on romance. I bet your Vulcan friends would get a kick out of that. And, like I’ve said, dancing can play a part in human courtship.” Kirk tapped Spock on the shoulder. “I guarantee you’ll see some major romantic action at the club I’m gonna take you to. Some real face to face research material.”
Spock paused and turned, watching Kirk warily. “You speak truthfully? This is not another one of your ploys to force me into participating in human activities for your own amusement? ”
Kirk took a breath. “Yeah, of course.” He paused. “Well, it gives me a good excuse to spend more time with you, as well. But yeah, you’ll get some good research material at the club.”
Spock admitted to himself that this establishment did sound fascinating and could prove useful to his research if Kirk was not employing one of his frequently used hyperbolic statements. And, despite being occasionally overwhelming, Kirk’s company was not unpleasant, perhaps even stimulating. “Very well,” Spock yielded. “I will accompany you. However, I will not participate in the dancing.”
Kirk brightened. “Okay sure, whatever you say.” With a grin he hopped onto his hover bike, gesturing for Spock to take his place behind him. Kirk started the engine, and Spock was once again compelled to grip Kirk’s waist as they drove off.
*
The establishment Kirk brought Spock to was noisy and crowded. Kirk had claimed two seats at the bar after a human couple departed for the dance floor. After pushing his chair as far back against the bar as it would go, Spock found himself leaning toward Kirk to distance himself from the Orion who persisted on pressing half of her body against Spock’s as she lounged against the bar.
“Hey, he’s with me. Hands off.” Kirk addressed the Orion, directing a glare at her Spock assumed was meant to be intimidating. The Orion shrugged, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and wandered to the other end of the bar where a human male seemed more appreciative of her close proximity.
Kirk handed Spock a drink. “Free of chocolate and sucrose. Just like you asked.”
Spock sniffed the drink. “Thank you.” He took a small sip.
“I like how you treat everything I give you as if I’m trying to poison you.” Kirk took a deep swallow from the tall glass in his hand which was filled with a brown foamed liquid.
“I do not think you are trying to poison me. I am unfamiliar with many human beverages and am therefore unsure if they will have an unfavourable reaction on my digestive system.”
“Are you allergic to sugar, then?” Kirk asked.
“No. However, both cocoa and processed sugars are known to affect Vulcans similar to how alcohol affects humans.” Experiencing no disturbing sensations after the first sip of the drink, Spock indulged in another.
Kirk’s eyes widened. “Remind me to slip you a chocolate bar before the next xenolinguistics club meeting.”
“I will not. Being intoxicated while teaching would not be professional.” Frowning, Spock watched Kirk cough up part of his drink. “You are participating in the human act of ‘teasing.’”
“Yeah, a little,” Kirk chuckled.
“I see.” Spock directed his gaze to the dance floor where a multitude of couples and groups were engaged in erratic movements in time to a fast paced, often discordant, melody. Much physical stimulation was involved, occasionally in intimate areas.
“Wanna try?” Kirk had leaned closer, his breath tickling Spock’s ear.
Spock glanced at Kirk, then away. “I already reiterated my disinterest in dancing.”
“If your boyfriend’s not interested, I’ll spin you around.” A human male had approached and placed himself in the seat on Kirk’s other side. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties and not unattractive. The man placed an arm on the cadet’s shoulder. Spock raised an eyebrow.
Shifting away slightly, Kirk rested his hand on Spock’s knee. Spock flinched. “No, thanks,” Kirk replied. “I’m gonna stick with my boyfriend.”
“Your boyfriend doesn’t know how to treat hot stuff like you.” The man edged closer. “Forget him, I’ll show you a good time.”
Spock opened his mouth to debate the truth of this statement. From what he had learned observing humans, Spock believed ‘boyfriend’ was a term with romantic connotations. However, the light shake of his head and focused stare Kirk suddenly expressed, gave Spock pause. Kirk squeezed Spock’s knee, a tickling emotion buzzing though the transference.
Pressing his lips together, Spock remembered Kirk’s method with the Orion had been quite effective. “He is with me. Hands off,” Spock repeated, attempting to imitate Kirk’s tone and facial expression.
“Oh, yeah?” The man replied, stepping toward Spock. He could smell alcohol on the human’s breath. “Make me.” He wrapped an arm around Kirk’s shoulders.
“Very well.” Standing, Spock grabbed Kirk’s wrist and pulled him up from the chair, out of the man’s weaker grasp, and tugged Kirk toward the dance floor. The man yelled obscenities behind them, but did not follow.
Kirk was laughing rather hysterically behind him. “Congratulations,” Kirk said in between breathes. “You just survived your first human courtship ritual.”
“It was not difficult.” Spock came to a halt at the perimeter of the dance floor.
“Don’t speak so soon,” Kirk replied, moving to Spock’s front and wrapping his arms around Spock’s shoulders. “Now you gotta finish what you started and dance with me.”
“Is dancing your favourite pastime?” Spock asked, staring down at Kirk. “You are rather fixated on the activity.”
“Yeah, I like dancing.” Kirk leaned forward. Spock stepped back. “But mostly, I really want to dance with you.” Kirk moved forward again and Spock stepped back.
“If the ease with which you collect friendships is any indication, I am positive you would have no difficulty finding dance partners.” Taking Spock’s arm from where it lay stiffly against his side, Kirk placed it on his hip. “I am clearly unnecessary to your enjoyment of the activity.” Kirk repeated his motions with Spock’s other hand.
“Wrong,” Kirk murmured. “You.” Kirk’s body was three millimeters from Spock’s now. He could feel the brush of Kirk’s jacket again his torso. “Are very necessary.”
Spock did not reply. Indeed, he was not sure he could form words at this time. He was being bombarded with a rush of unfamiliar sensations and physical contact. All of Spock’s senses felt like they were on red alert.
“You look cute when you blush.” Kirk breathed against Spock’s jawline. The cadet had begun a swaying motion, perhaps a bare two centimeters back and forth. Spock closed his eyes in an attempt to rest at least one of his sensory inputs. The motion was both comforting and stimulating at the same time.
Spock’s fingers tensed against Kirk’s hips. “I do not blush,” Spock replied, barely a whisper. He had a sudden desire to close the remaining distance between them, press his body flush against Kirk’s and give in to the emotions flooding through him. He resisted.
“Say that to the green tinge across your cheeks.” Kirk’s right hand stroked Spock’s shoulder, moving down to his elbow and back up again.
“The reaction upon my skin is likely caused by the colourful lighting used by this establishment.” Spock swallowed. The sound echoed in his ears.
“Uh huh,” Kirk replied, amusement in his tone.
Spock was unsure how long they remained in this state, his sense of time clouded by all the other impressions clamoring for attention in his brain. Kirk was saying things to him and Spock was replying, shadows of emotions drifting from Kirk through to Spock. He was immensely grateful Kirk had the decency to keep his hands against Spock’s clothing instead of touching bare skin when his dissembled shields could do little to stop a clear transference. The idea of knowing Kirk’s thoughts so intimately disturbed Spock.
The rushing sound in Spock’s ears suddenly quieted and he opened his eyes. The music had ended and Kirk had stepped away, increasing their distance by 5.9 centimeters.
“Thanks for the dance, Spock,” Kirk smiled.
Spock blinked, blood rushing back to his fingers. “You are welcome.”
Kirk brushed a hand against Spock’s elbow. “Come on, I’ll buy you another drink and we can observe some more research subjects.”
“Yes,” Spock replied, simply, following Kirk. His legs were feeling slightly unstable. A chance to sit again would be beneficial.
*
Kirk’s ‘human lessons’ continued over the next thirteen days in the form of outings and conversation. The file Spock kept on his PADD with research notes was at 1.3 MB. Despite their invasive nature, Kirk willingly answered Spock’s questions and seemed keen to discuss anything related to human romance, often initiating the topic for discussion or providing Spock with ideas for his paper. Spock found Kirk to be an engaging conversationalist, his previous prejudice about the flippant cadet now replaced with admiration. He found himself seeking out Kirk’s company more frequently and objecting less to Kirk’s constant proximity.
Their conversations were not exclusively focused on Spock’s research but often diverged, at first on Kirk’s prompting only, but, after a time, also encouraged by Spock. They discussed space travel and starship tactics, Kirk’s multitude of classes, the difference between human and Vulcan cuisine, linguistics, hover bike mechanics-Kirk had offered to teach Spock how to ride, Spock had declined-and a multitude of other topics. When Kirk discovered that Spock played chess, the two played five games together, three of which Spock won, two of which, to Spock’s surprise, he lost.
After Spock again brought up Kirk’s decisions during Pike’s rescue simulation, the two spent the next thirty eight minutes arguing amicably about the ethical ramifications of the cadet’s judgments, Kirk adamant that taking risks for the chance of saving crew members was the obvious decision, while Spock debated Kirk’s logic. By the end of the debate, Spock was impressed with Kirk’s passion, but still wary of his impulsiveness, often triggered by human emotions. Although he wondered if some of his retorts, though rational, would cause Kirk offense, the cadet’s usual grin was spread across his face after they both ‘agreed to disagree.’ The next day, Kirk was just as eager to literally drag Spock with him to lunch in between classes and discuss a more difficult aspect of the cadet’s latest tactical class.
Kirk had blatantly brought up the Kobayashi Maru four more times and hinted at the topic a fifth time by expressing his interest in simulation programming. Spock had listened to the cadet’s tactical observations on the test, but made no comments of his own, nor answered any of Kirk’s questions. Eventually, Kirk changed the topic.
Unconsciously, Spock had become a willing friend of Jim Kirk’s. He admitted to himself, with some surprise, that this revelation was a positive one.
“Hey.” For once Kirk was first to arrive at the weekly xenolinguistics club meeting. His hair was slightly askew, several pieces sticking in gravity defying directions. His eyes were still filmy with sleep, casting a liquidness to his gaze that heightened the colour of his eyes.
“Cadet.” Spock felt his lips pull upward. “You are early.”
“Yeah, not late for once. Impressed?” Kirk smiled the smile that Spock preferred. A light tug of the lips that lifted them slightly to the right. It felt private, like it belonged to Spock, even though the idea of owning a smile that was not one’s own was illogical.
“I am gratified to see you putting in the effort expected of you to attend meetings on time as required and met by all other members of this group.”
“Harsh!” Kirk leaned lazily against one of the tables. “And I woke up half an hour early just so I could impress you for once.”
“Vulcans are not easily impressed, as I know you are aware.” He watched Kirk rub a single eye and then move a hand up through his hair, making the ends stand up more messily than before. “However, you are mistaken. You have impressed me on several occasions.”
Kirk straightened into a less lazy slouch, his eyes opened a few millimeters wider. “Really? Like when?”
Spock moved his hands to parade rest, straightening his spine in contrast to Kirk’s loose posture. “When you first joined this club, I expected nothing extraordinary from you. When you displayed a modicum of intelligence and commitment, I was momentarily impressed.”
Kirk stared at him for precisely one second before bursting into laughter. “So.” He said after catching his breath. “I impressed you by not being as stupid as you thought I was.”
“A generalization of my thoughts of you at the time, but essentially correct.”
“Well, high praise from a Vulcan, I suppose.” Kirk smiled his smile again, and stepped over, holding his arm up, a paper bag clutched in his hand. “Be nice. I brought you breakfast.”
Spock hesitated a moment before taking the bag and opening it. Inside was a breakfast sandwich and croissant-the bag’s logo he recognized from a local café frequented by academy students. “I even remembered to get the vegetarian option.” Kirk winked.
Spock had broken his fast two hours earlier, but he did not feel compelled to reveal this fact. “The sentiment is appreciated, but was unnecessary.”
“Yeah well, I do a lot of unnecessary things, especially for friends. Haven’t picked up on that, yet, smarty pants?”
Spock frowned. “I am not a piece of clothing. Intelligent or otherwise.”
“Another saying, Spock.” Kirk rubbed Spock’s arm. “Eat your breakfast. The food from Roy’s is the best. Once you try it, you won’t want to eat anything else for breakfast ever again.”
Spock unwrapped the breakfast sandwich and eyed it speculatively. It was not leaking with the usual grease Spock had come to associate with ‘student food.’ Kirk was watching him expectantly. “I will concede to your better judgment on this matter, Cadet.” He took a bite.
Kirk watched him chew, eyes focused on Spock’s mouth. “You know, you should really call me Jim.”
Spock swallowed. The sandwich was appetizing. As in other human topics, Kirk was proving an expert on the matter of Terran cuisine. “It is Starfleet procedure to address one by their rank or surname.” Spock took another bite of his sandwich.
“I know. But, when we’re alone, or outside the academy, you can call me Jim. It’s much more friendly. And I brought you breakfast, so it’s official, we’re friends.”
As he finished the sandwich, Spock watched Kirk. He did not want to call the cadet Jim. It lifted another boundary between them, one of the few that were remaining as Kirk continually stepped past them without thought. Indeed, by accepting the meal Kirk had brought, Spock had likely stepped through one of his own boundaries.
“Come on, Spock. I know you can do it. Calling me by my first name can be part of your human studies. Jim,” Kirk enunciated his name, his full lips fluttering over his teeth. “Jim. It’s easy, one syllable.”
Spock felt powerless again-where was his self-control? Ever since he placed his hands on Kirk’s waist during their first hover bike ride, it had been slowly evaporating like the water in his mother’s garden on Vulcan. He took a single breath.
“Jim.”
Kirk grinned, and Spock suddenly felt better about abandoning formality. “Thanks, Spock.”
“Thanks are unnecessary.”
“Don’t care. Saying it anyway. With one simple syllable you’ve made my day.” Spock observed that Kirk was easily pleased. No wonder he was always smiling over unextraordinary matters. “So. Picked a topic for your paper, yet?”
Spock picked up the croissant. “Upon your suggestion, I have chosen to focus my writing on human romantic relationships. The rituals involved are different from those of Vulcan and would therefore be of interest to my colleagues.”
“Sounds like a plan. Let me know if you need any more intel.” Kirk glanced down at Spock’s hands. “How was the sandwich?”
“Satisfactory.” He eyed the croissant briefly before taking a bite. At that moment, the door opened, and Uhura stepped in, halting when she saw them. Spock swallowed quickly and placed the pastry back in its bag.
“Hey, Uhura!” Kirk greeted her with a small wave.
“You’re early,” she replied.
Kirk snorted. “Yeah, that’s what Spock said. I’m trying to improve my slovenly ways.”
Uhura raised her eyebrows and glanced from Kirk to Spock and then back again. “Good luck with that.”
“Ye of little faith.” Kirk shook his head and took his usual seat. Behind Uhura trailed Vro, and shortly after the rest of the club’s members. Spock picked up Kirk’s breakfast and placed it aside for later consumption.
*
“He’s after you.”
“Excuse me?” Spock turned. Behind him stood Cadet Uhura, hands placed firmly on her hips.
“Kirk. He’s after you,” she repeated.
“After me? I do not comprehend. Are we involved in a race I was not informed of?” Spock was piling his instructional material away in his bag along with the abandoned croissant. The rest of the group had rushed off to their next classes, extracurriculars, or lunch. Before leaving, Kirk had caught Spock’s eye to give him a penetrating smile.
“Okay, I’m going to be blunt. I think Kirk’s using you.”
Spock blinked. He was finding it difficult to formulate a response.
“You have been misinformed,” he managed to reply. “Cadet Kirk has offered to assist me with my study on human social norms and customs for my VSA anthropological paper. If anyone has been making use of anyone, it has been me.”
“He’s doing it to impress you. Trust me. The guy could charm his way out of a paper bag.” Uhura huffed. Spock did not know what paper bags had to do with Cadet Kirk., but noted the phrase away to ask Kirk about it later.
“Has Cadet Kirk told you this?”
Uhura shook her head. “No. Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this since I didn’t hear the whole conversation,” she hesitated. “But, I overheard him talking to his friend Leonard about you. Kirk was betting him he could win you over and beat the Kobayashi Maru test.”
Spock attempted to keep his face neutral and ignore the twitch fluttering between his eyebrows. “Perhaps you misunderstood. The cadet and I have spent several evenings in each other’s company discussing matters of human and Vulcan culture, and,” Spock thought it unwise to mention the impromptu dance lesson or the hover bike rides, “various recreational activities, none of which involved me being ‘won over’ as I have come to understand the term.”
“Are you sure?” Uhura asked, disbelief evident in her tone. “He never tried to drag you to his place, or sneak into yours?”
“Negative.” Spock crossed his arms behind his back.
“Hmm.” Uhura tapped her fingers against a hip. “Has he been bothering you about the Kobayashi Maru test? He’s been obsessing about it to everyone else, even tried to convince Gaila to give him the simulation access codes.”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “He has mentioned the test and his determination to pass it. However, I have provided no sensitive information about the simulation.”
Uhura shifted. “No, of course you haven’t. Sorry, Professor,” she grimaced. “I’m probably being overly protective. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Kirk can be pretty charismatic, maybe even to a Vulcan.”
“I appreciate your concern, Cadet. But as I am Vulcan, I am not susceptible to Kirk’s whiles, if he is, as you believe, using them upon me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to prepare for.”
Uhura watched him with a small smile. “Of course, Commander.”
As Spock left the room, he had trouble pushing Uhura’s suspicions from his mind. It was unlike him to admit such a thing, but Spock could not deny he was enjoying his time with Kirk. The cadet was intelligent, and his conversation, however mired in the usual human incomprehensibility, was diverting and, dare he say it, amusing. Kirk seemed unfazed by Spock’s Vulcan reticence, a refreshing change from most of the humans of his acquaintance.
But, if Uhura was correct, and Kirk was forming an attachment to Spock as a means to acquire information about the Kobayashi Maru test-Spock found the thought most unpleasant. In fact, it stirred the hint of an emotion that burned at the back of Spock’s skull.
Kirk had outright asked Spock for information about the test, and when he refused the cadet had laughed it off. He had mentioned the Kobayashi Maru again during other conversations and Spock knew Kirk enjoyed a challenge, was a risk taker, and denied the existence of no-win scenarios. Had Kirk initiating a friendship with Spock, and possibly a slow building courtship, with the intention of ensnaring Spock’s trust in order to gain information on the Kobayashi Maru?
It seemed a little far-fetched. Despite his nonchalant façade, Kirk was intelligent and devoted to his Starfleet studies. The long hours he spent holed up in the library, sitting in extra classes, joining the xenolinguistics club, and discussing topics on physics, diplomacy and tactics with Spock, proved this. Spock did not want to believe Kirk would cheat his way through a test, even if it ensured him the success he so coveted. Yet, Kirk was a puzzle Spock was slowly putting together. Despite their many interactions, he was far from seeing the whole man.
Spock was suddenly reminded of his conversation with Kirk when the two had gone for their celebratory drink after Pike’s rescue simulation. ‘Isn’t doing whatever you can to save your crew the important thing, even if it is unethical?’ Kirk had effused his expression serious, eyes bright with emotion and intoxication after an excessive amount of alcohol.
Spock thought his logic was unshakable. But Kirk, with his easy acceptance and gratifying companionship, his laughing eyes and earnest touch that warmed Spock even when the temperature was below satisfactory for a Vulcan, had slipped through Spock’s barriers and obscured his judgment. Vulcans were not meant to participate in acts of friendship. It might be wise, Spock considered, to distance himself from Kirk, whatever the cadet’s motives were.
*
“We. Are. Done.”
Spock halted his progress through the academy’s courtyard, recognizing the voice raised in obvious distress. Cadet Vro was engaged in a verbal encounter with a human cadet. This was not the first argument he had observed Gaila involved in in public.
After her human companion departed, an unpleasant expression on his face, Spock approached. “You seem well acquainted with human males.”
Vro started, turned toward Spock, and then frowned, a small quirk on her lips. “Are you about to lecture me, Professor? Because if you are, I have a class to get to.”
“Negative. I wish to,” Spock considered his phrasing, “ask your advice.”
“Oh ho!” Vro raised her brows, forming a rather disconcerting smile. “Having problems with your own human male? What is it, tell me. Not answering your calls? Is he being too withdrawn? Doesn’t bathe enough? Or, he can’t get it up?” She covered her mouth, clearly horrified, Spock was unsure why. “Poor, Professor Spock!”
Vro had clearly misconstrued the specifics of his dilemma. “None of these problems relate to my own.” Spock answered. “I am attempting to distance myself from the human male in question. However, the more frequently I refuse his requests to spend time together, the more often he insists that we do.” Spock had turned down three of Kirk’s offers to ‘hang out’ for breakfast, lunch and dinner last week. In response, Kirk had doubled his requests. Even though Spock had insisted he did not desire a friendship, that he found the social experience too trying for his Vulcan sensibilities, that he found Kirk, himself, too overwhelming, the cadet was not taking no for an answer. Kirk was convinced Spock ‘just needed some more time to warm up to him.’ The comment brought to mind the memory of Kirk’s body heat warming his chilled fingers during their hover bike rides. If anything, Spock needed cooling down.
Vro nodded. “I see, not getting the message, is he?”
“Clearly not.”
“Okay, you’re obviously going about this the wrong way, Professor. He probably thinks you’re playing hard to get.”
“Please clarify.”
“It’s a game humans play when they’re interested in each other. They pretend they’re not attracted to someone when they really are. Human boys love it. It’s like hunting. The prey runs away and the predator chases it down. It must speak to their inner caveman roots.”
Spock quirked an eyebrow. “Fascinating.” Kirk was attempting to hunt him? If this was true, humans were barely evolved beyond pre-Surakian Vulcans. His decision to alleviate himself of Kirk was undoubtedly a wise one.
“Isn’t it?” Vro’s grin expanded. “Anyway, if you wanna ditch this boy, you have to do the opposite of what you’re doing. Get all clingy, really overdo it. Make declarations of love in public. Leave some of your belongings at his house like you’re marking the space your own. That’ll scare him off real quick.”
“Illogical.”
“It sure is, but nothing works better.” Vro twirled a strand of her hair around a finger. “I’ve used this method on a number of pesky humans I’ve had trouble getting rid of.”
“I see.” Vro’s prescribed method troubled Spock. It was not only illogical, but also deceptive. It went against Spock’s nature, yet the idea fascinated his scientific curiosity. Humans truly were opposite in disposition to Vulcans. This could be an illuminating experiment, one that would enhance his paper on human relationships, as well as performing the necessary duty of defriending Kirk.
“Thank you, Cadet. Your ideas have proven most instructive.”
“Good luck, Professor! You let me know if you need any more advice.” She winked. “Kirk’s tougher than he looks.”
Spock raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it. It should not surprise him that an Orion was able to discern the subject of his predicament. Instead, Spock simply nodded his thanks and turned to leave, a title for his paper already forming in his mind. He would submit his proposal to T’Pring tonight.
*
Part 3