[FIC] Curious Thing (star trek)
Title: A Curious Thing
Author: Lilas (pegasus_01/pavlovs_kitten)
Universe: Reboot
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2,477
Genre: cracktastic fluff
Warnings: None
Summary: A small take on TOS "The Trouble with Tribble" where, unfortunately for Jim, he’s allergic to tribles.
Not beta'ed
A/N: This is a sort of sequel to Paint It Black Lavender. I blame nusuth ENTIRELY for this. She’s the one who, after I sent my fic for beta’ing, said that it would be hilarious if Scotty got himself a tribble and Kirk was allergic to it and he had to put off his swim lessons some more. ALL HER FAULT!!
*****
Jim hummed under his breath as he put the final touches in the repairs for the pool maintenance system. It was just one of those things that had been damaged sometime in the course of the voyage and that had fallen to the bottom of the repair list. After all, it's not like the pool was essential to the operation of the ship, and if crewmembers wanted to exercise there was always the gym. Nevermind that a pool was ideal for physical therapy or for low impact exercise; it would never be more imporant the waste disposal system. But being Captain, and the best programmer on the ship, had its perks, one of them beong that he didn't need to ask for permission when he wanted to tinker with one of the systems; he could just do it. Though, because he wasn't suicidal, he always let Scotty know when he was playing around with his lady in case the engineer had some valid objection to his new pet project.
Inputting the final codes of the series, Jim exited the programme with a flourish and activated the commence sequence. He watched with a smug grin as the pumps started working and filling the pool with jets of cleaning agent quickly followed by gallons of water. Two more days and the pool would be open for business, and this time, he was intent in taking full advantage of it and dragging Spock there to finally get on with those much promised swimming lessons. Satisfied, he hurriedly put everything away and all but hopped back to the bridge, a plan already forming on how he was going to get Spock to leave his experiements long enough to get him to the pool. After all, it's not like there was anything going on right now.
"Bridge to Captain Kirk. Come in, Captain."
Jim stopped short at the summons and groaned. He just knew that whatever Uhura was about to tell him was going to ruin his awesomely amazing plan. "Kirk, here. Go ahead Lieutenant."
"Sir, we just received a priority one distress call from Deep Space Station K7."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. Chekov, how long until we get there?"
"At maximum wrap, sir," the Russian replied, pausing momentarily as he made the necessary calculations. "We would be there in thirty minutes, sir."
"Very well. Plot the course and get us there. Mr. Spock, please meet me in the ready room. I'll be there shortly."
"Yes, sir."
"Very well, sir," the Vulcan replied.
"Kirk out." As soon as he disengaged the comm, Jim sighed. One, just one simple, hassle-free, emergency-free assignment. That's all he wanted. Was it really so much to ask? "Apparently," he grumbled under his breath as he made his way to the transporter and the bridge level.
*****
Jim practically growled at Baris as the man went on and on about his stupid wheat shipment. While he understood the importance of the grain and didn't dispute the need to guard it, there was absolutely no good reason to put the Enterprise on babysitting duty when there were closer ships with more free time. And on top of it, now he had Klingons to deal with along with a bored crew. Like his day could possibly get any worse. He was just waiting for the call telling him one of his officers had tried to punch a Klingon and broken his hand on its cheek. The first member that did that was getting latrine duty for a month.
The sudden sneeze that shook his body was so unexpected that it stopped him in his tracks and nearly made him lose his balance.
"Fucker," he cursed, sniffling pathetically and rubbing the palm on his hand against his itching nose. "What the hell?" he grumbled as he scrunched up his nose and blinked his eyes furiously.
"Bridge to Captain Kirk," Spock's voice announced from a nearby comm, interrupting his musings.
"Go ahead, Spock."
"We have established communication with Admiral Pike, sir," Spock replied.
"I'll be in the bridge in a minute."
If it wasn't for the fact that it would look unbecoming for the Captain of a starship to run to the bridge when there was no emergency, Jim would have done just that. Instead, he forced himself to stay at a fast walk and a wave to Uhura as soon as he walked in. He could hardly contain his smile when Pike's image flickered to life on the screen. Here was his salvation from this damnable assignment.
"Admiral," he greeted as soon as the image stabilized. "Always a pleasure to see you, sir,"
"Can it, Kirk," Pike replied frowning. "I know what you're going to say and there's nothing I can do about it. Suck it up."
"What?" Jim asked incredulously.
"Consider it punishment for the football field."
"What?!" Jim practically squealed. "That's totally unfair!"
"You painted it purple, Kirk!" Pike said exasperated.
"I did no such thing!" There was a short pause. "I painted it lavender," Jim finally said, capitulating under the force of Pike's death glare.
"The admiralty was not best pleased. I hope you learn your lesson and think twice before taking on a bet."
"Wasn't I punished enough, sir?" Jim appealed. "I was blind for forty-eight hours."
"That wasn't Starfleet sanctioned punishment," Pike shrugged. "That was karma slapping you in the ass. Now go babysit some wheat."
"Yes, sir," Jim glowered as Pike ended the transmission. There was a beat of silence on the bridge before Spock stepped up to his side. "Don't even say it, Spock," Jim preempted him. "I can feel your smugness radiating in waves."
"Illogical, Captain. Vulcans feel no such things."
"Yeah, right," Jim murmured low enough that only the Vulcan would hear it. "Right, people," he said, loudly clapping his hands. "Uhura, let's set up some security shifts for those grains. Assign anyone who recently got a reprimand on their file."
"Yes, sir."
"I'll be down in engineering if anyone needs me," Jim said, quickly making a strategic retreat before Spock burst a vein trying to contain his ‘I told you so.’
*****
Jim took one step onto the engineering deck and let out three loud sneezes in a row. He could feel his eyes watering and pressure settle on his sinuses. He pressed the palm of his hand to his aching nose and squeezed his eyes shut as he scrunched up his nose to ride out the last of the itchy feeling. He groaned a little at the sudden developing headache and almost changed his mind about visiting Scotty; his bed in his dark and quiet room was looking more appealing by the second. He shook his head at the absurd thought and forged ahead to Scotty’s man-cave - or what the rest of the ship just called the engine room.
As soon as the doors opened, he felt like a hammer had been dropped on his face and he let out another four sneezes that were so intense they made him doubled over. As soon as he was sure he was done for now, he let out another groan, looked up, and felt his insides freeze. Every square inch of the engine room was overrun by small, furry, purring, vibrating balls of fur.
“What the hell?” he rasped out incredulously as another thing popped out from one of the Jeffries tube. “Scotty!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.
“Ack!” the Scotman’s voice yelped from somewhere within the mass of fur. “Captain!”
“The fuck?!” Jim yelled again. He’d decided that there was never going to be enough yelling.
“Well sir,” Scotty ventured as he slowly made his way towards the blonde. “I was at the base when I saw a man selling a cute little tribble.”
“And you bought one?” Jim yelled, glaring at the shorter man.
“I missed my pet tribble terribly, sir,” he replied sheepishly.
“Get rid of them!” Kirk shouted, pointing his fingers at the tribbles to emphasize his point. “Now!”
Jim promptly let out another round of sneezes, but this time a cough joined in at the end the quartet, forcing Jim to double over, hands on his knees as he struggled to get his breathing under control. Scotty cringed at the sound and took a step towards his Captain. Jim looked up just then, blue eyes glacial and glaring death at the Scotsman. Thinking twice, Scotty changed his trajectory from his Captain to the comm unit on the wall.
“Scott to sickbay.”
“I don’t need Bones,” Jim rasped out.
“Chapel here. What can I do for you, Mr. Scott?”
“Could you ask the kind doctor to come down to the engine room, my dear? The Captain is in need of his assistance.”
“I don’t need Bones,” Jim repeated emphatically.
“He’s on his way, Mr. Scott,” Chapel replied without a care in the world.
“Thank you, lass,” Scott said before letting go of the unit and turning back to face Jim. “Perhaps you should wait outside, lad,” he suggested, cringing as Jim’s face slowly puffed up.
“I hate you so much right now, Scotty. Get rid of these monsters! I want them out of my ship!” Jim yelled as loudly as he could while he still had his voice and the capacity to breathe.
“Yes, sir. Right away,” Scott said as he took another step away from Jim’s glare.
He was saved from any more yelling by the doors to the engine room opening and the sound of a loud and angry southern drawl.
“What the hell is this?” McCoy snapped as he walked into a sea of tiny, furry bodies.
“Tribbles,” Jim replied, spitting the word out as if it had been a rotten fruit.
“Good God,” McCoy groaned. “How?”
Jim glared straight at Scotty and refrained from saying anything. Not that he needed to; his silence spoke volume.
“Tribbles?!” McCoy questioned accusingly. “Of all the nuisances in the universe, you decide to bring Tribbles aboard a starship?”
Scotty gulped and took a step back, putting a few more tribbles between him and the doctor.
“What were you thinking, man?” McCoy asked as he flung a couple of tribbles aside to make his way to Jim. “Goddamn it, Jim,” he cursed as he took the younger man’s chin in his hand and lifted his face up so he could palpate his neck.
“Stop blaming me,” Jim pouted like the infant he was deep down. “This is totally not my fault. I’m not the one who brought those monsters onto the ship.”
McCoy grumbled under his breath as he examined the blonde perfunctorily, making sure he’d be able to make it to the infirmary. His examination was cut short when Jim huffed, annoyed, and batted his hands away from his face so he could turn around and glare at Scotty some more.
“Get. Rid of them,” Jim said menacingly, the consequences of non-compliance loud and clear in the tone of his voice and pose of his body.
Scotty nodded vigorously and ran off towards the bowel of the engine room, no doubt to conjure up a solution to his troubles. Jim watched him scram with vindictive satisfaction even as McCoy tugged him out and away from the engine room.
“I’m taking you to the infirmary and putting you in isolation,” McCoy said matter of factly.
“What?” Jim tried to jerk his arm out of the doctor’s grip but it was unmovable. “Fuck no.”
“You’re not arguing your way out of this one, Jim. The isolation room is the only place where I can be relatively sure that the little buggers won’t infest, and I’m not going to risk you going into anaphylactic shock because of fur.”
“Ooh, that’s low, Bones,” Jim said accusingly, eyes narrowed, but he didn’t fight his friend as he was dragged throughout the hallways of the Enterprise.
*****
Jim stared morosely out of the window of the isolation room, watching the everyday bustles of an active infirmary on board a spaceship. Of course, the tiny balls of furs scattered throughout were anything but an everyday occurrence, and at the moment the sole reason why he wasn’t putting up a fuss about being confined to this tiny, self ventilated room. He’d take isolation over streaming eyes, running nose, and an inflamed throat any day of the week.
He fucking hated tribbles.
“Captain.”
Jim jerked at the voice, blue eyes blinking once as he focused on the tall figure by the window. He’d been so busy cursing Scotty that he hadn’t even noticed Spock standing at attention. He hopped off the bed and made his way to the intercom by the door, his smile tight and betraying his resignation.
“Hi Spock,” he replied despondently. “I hope you come bearing good news.”
“I am afraid the tribbles have infested most of our systems and it will take us some time to exterminate them all.” Spock paused as Jim’s small smile crumbled. “I am sorry, Jim.”
Jim groaned and leaned his head against the door. “Are they in the pool, too?”
Spock raised an eyebrow at the question. “I believe so, Jim.”
Jim groaned again. “Every damn time, Spock.”
“I’m sorry, sir?”
“I’d just finished repairing the pool maintenance system so we could have that swim lesson, Spock,” Jim sighed tiredly. “Now chances are that the tribbles that completely ruined the system and I’ll have to wait until I can do it all over again before I can finally have my lessons.”
Spock cocked his head to the side, silently appraising Jim. “Is that why you spent so many hours at the pool? You were not having lessons?”
Jim pulled head away from the door to look at Spock in surprise. “No. You promised me swim lessons and I’m holding you to it.”
“In that case, Captain,” Spock said, face serious but his eyes betraying his amusement and happiness. “I will order Commander Scott to fumigate the pool first and assign his best engineer to repair any damage done to the systems in that section.”
“Spock,” Jim drawled suspiciously. “You know protocol dictates that non-essential quarters be sealed and dealt with only after -”
“The pool is of vital importance to the well-being of the crew, Captain. It make sense to clear it out first and have it repaired so that by the time the ship is tribble-free, the crew may continue its use of the facility.”
“Why, Mister Spock,” Jim said as a blinding smile reshaped his lips and face. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say that is quite a romantic gesture on your part.”
“Thankfully, Captain,” Spock replied, a tiny corner of his lip curved upward as he inclined his head in his customary farewell, “you do.”
The sound of Jim’s laughter permeated throughout the infirmary as Spock made his way out the door and to engineering to terrorize Scotty some more.
Author: Lilas (pegasus_01/pavlovs_kitten)
Universe: Reboot
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2,477
Genre: cracktastic fluff
Warnings: None
Summary: A small take on TOS "The Trouble with Tribble" where, unfortunately for Jim, he’s allergic to tribles.
Not beta'ed
A/N: This is a sort of sequel to Paint It Black Lavender. I blame nusuth ENTIRELY for this. She’s the one who, after I sent my fic for beta’ing, said that it would be hilarious if Scotty got himself a tribble and Kirk was allergic to it and he had to put off his swim lessons some more. ALL HER FAULT!!
*****
Jim hummed under his breath as he put the final touches in the repairs for the pool maintenance system. It was just one of those things that had been damaged sometime in the course of the voyage and that had fallen to the bottom of the repair list. After all, it's not like the pool was essential to the operation of the ship, and if crewmembers wanted to exercise there was always the gym. Nevermind that a pool was ideal for physical therapy or for low impact exercise; it would never be more imporant the waste disposal system. But being Captain, and the best programmer on the ship, had its perks, one of them beong that he didn't need to ask for permission when he wanted to tinker with one of the systems; he could just do it. Though, because he wasn't suicidal, he always let Scotty know when he was playing around with his lady in case the engineer had some valid objection to his new pet project.
Inputting the final codes of the series, Jim exited the programme with a flourish and activated the commence sequence. He watched with a smug grin as the pumps started working and filling the pool with jets of cleaning agent quickly followed by gallons of water. Two more days and the pool would be open for business, and this time, he was intent in taking full advantage of it and dragging Spock there to finally get on with those much promised swimming lessons. Satisfied, he hurriedly put everything away and all but hopped back to the bridge, a plan already forming on how he was going to get Spock to leave his experiements long enough to get him to the pool. After all, it's not like there was anything going on right now.
"Bridge to Captain Kirk. Come in, Captain."
Jim stopped short at the summons and groaned. He just knew that whatever Uhura was about to tell him was going to ruin his awesomely amazing plan. "Kirk, here. Go ahead Lieutenant."
"Sir, we just received a priority one distress call from Deep Space Station K7."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. Chekov, how long until we get there?"
"At maximum wrap, sir," the Russian replied, pausing momentarily as he made the necessary calculations. "We would be there in thirty minutes, sir."
"Very well. Plot the course and get us there. Mr. Spock, please meet me in the ready room. I'll be there shortly."
"Yes, sir."
"Very well, sir," the Vulcan replied.
"Kirk out." As soon as he disengaged the comm, Jim sighed. One, just one simple, hassle-free, emergency-free assignment. That's all he wanted. Was it really so much to ask? "Apparently," he grumbled under his breath as he made his way to the transporter and the bridge level.
*****
Jim practically growled at Baris as the man went on and on about his stupid wheat shipment. While he understood the importance of the grain and didn't dispute the need to guard it, there was absolutely no good reason to put the Enterprise on babysitting duty when there were closer ships with more free time. And on top of it, now he had Klingons to deal with along with a bored crew. Like his day could possibly get any worse. He was just waiting for the call telling him one of his officers had tried to punch a Klingon and broken his hand on its cheek. The first member that did that was getting latrine duty for a month.
The sudden sneeze that shook his body was so unexpected that it stopped him in his tracks and nearly made him lose his balance.
"Fucker," he cursed, sniffling pathetically and rubbing the palm on his hand against his itching nose. "What the hell?" he grumbled as he scrunched up his nose and blinked his eyes furiously.
"Bridge to Captain Kirk," Spock's voice announced from a nearby comm, interrupting his musings.
"Go ahead, Spock."
"We have established communication with Admiral Pike, sir," Spock replied.
"I'll be in the bridge in a minute."
If it wasn't for the fact that it would look unbecoming for the Captain of a starship to run to the bridge when there was no emergency, Jim would have done just that. Instead, he forced himself to stay at a fast walk and a wave to Uhura as soon as he walked in. He could hardly contain his smile when Pike's image flickered to life on the screen. Here was his salvation from this damnable assignment.
"Admiral," he greeted as soon as the image stabilized. "Always a pleasure to see you, sir,"
"Can it, Kirk," Pike replied frowning. "I know what you're going to say and there's nothing I can do about it. Suck it up."
"What?" Jim asked incredulously.
"Consider it punishment for the football field."
"What?!" Jim practically squealed. "That's totally unfair!"
"You painted it purple, Kirk!" Pike said exasperated.
"I did no such thing!" There was a short pause. "I painted it lavender," Jim finally said, capitulating under the force of Pike's death glare.
"The admiralty was not best pleased. I hope you learn your lesson and think twice before taking on a bet."
"Wasn't I punished enough, sir?" Jim appealed. "I was blind for forty-eight hours."
"That wasn't Starfleet sanctioned punishment," Pike shrugged. "That was karma slapping you in the ass. Now go babysit some wheat."
"Yes, sir," Jim glowered as Pike ended the transmission. There was a beat of silence on the bridge before Spock stepped up to his side. "Don't even say it, Spock," Jim preempted him. "I can feel your smugness radiating in waves."
"Illogical, Captain. Vulcans feel no such things."
"Yeah, right," Jim murmured low enough that only the Vulcan would hear it. "Right, people," he said, loudly clapping his hands. "Uhura, let's set up some security shifts for those grains. Assign anyone who recently got a reprimand on their file."
"Yes, sir."
"I'll be down in engineering if anyone needs me," Jim said, quickly making a strategic retreat before Spock burst a vein trying to contain his ‘I told you so.’
*****
Jim took one step onto the engineering deck and let out three loud sneezes in a row. He could feel his eyes watering and pressure settle on his sinuses. He pressed the palm of his hand to his aching nose and squeezed his eyes shut as he scrunched up his nose to ride out the last of the itchy feeling. He groaned a little at the sudden developing headache and almost changed his mind about visiting Scotty; his bed in his dark and quiet room was looking more appealing by the second. He shook his head at the absurd thought and forged ahead to Scotty’s man-cave - or what the rest of the ship just called the engine room.
As soon as the doors opened, he felt like a hammer had been dropped on his face and he let out another four sneezes that were so intense they made him doubled over. As soon as he was sure he was done for now, he let out another groan, looked up, and felt his insides freeze. Every square inch of the engine room was overrun by small, furry, purring, vibrating balls of fur.
“What the hell?” he rasped out incredulously as another thing popped out from one of the Jeffries tube. “Scotty!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.
“Ack!” the Scotman’s voice yelped from somewhere within the mass of fur. “Captain!”
“The fuck?!” Jim yelled again. He’d decided that there was never going to be enough yelling.
“Well sir,” Scotty ventured as he slowly made his way towards the blonde. “I was at the base when I saw a man selling a cute little tribble.”
“And you bought one?” Jim yelled, glaring at the shorter man.
“I missed my pet tribble terribly, sir,” he replied sheepishly.
“Get rid of them!” Kirk shouted, pointing his fingers at the tribbles to emphasize his point. “Now!”
Jim promptly let out another round of sneezes, but this time a cough joined in at the end the quartet, forcing Jim to double over, hands on his knees as he struggled to get his breathing under control. Scotty cringed at the sound and took a step towards his Captain. Jim looked up just then, blue eyes glacial and glaring death at the Scotsman. Thinking twice, Scotty changed his trajectory from his Captain to the comm unit on the wall.
“Scott to sickbay.”
“I don’t need Bones,” Jim rasped out.
“Chapel here. What can I do for you, Mr. Scott?”
“Could you ask the kind doctor to come down to the engine room, my dear? The Captain is in need of his assistance.”
“I don’t need Bones,” Jim repeated emphatically.
“He’s on his way, Mr. Scott,” Chapel replied without a care in the world.
“Thank you, lass,” Scott said before letting go of the unit and turning back to face Jim. “Perhaps you should wait outside, lad,” he suggested, cringing as Jim’s face slowly puffed up.
“I hate you so much right now, Scotty. Get rid of these monsters! I want them out of my ship!” Jim yelled as loudly as he could while he still had his voice and the capacity to breathe.
“Yes, sir. Right away,” Scott said as he took another step away from Jim’s glare.
He was saved from any more yelling by the doors to the engine room opening and the sound of a loud and angry southern drawl.
“What the hell is this?” McCoy snapped as he walked into a sea of tiny, furry bodies.
“Tribbles,” Jim replied, spitting the word out as if it had been a rotten fruit.
“Good God,” McCoy groaned. “How?”
Jim glared straight at Scotty and refrained from saying anything. Not that he needed to; his silence spoke volume.
“Tribbles?!” McCoy questioned accusingly. “Of all the nuisances in the universe, you decide to bring Tribbles aboard a starship?”
Scotty gulped and took a step back, putting a few more tribbles between him and the doctor.
“What were you thinking, man?” McCoy asked as he flung a couple of tribbles aside to make his way to Jim. “Goddamn it, Jim,” he cursed as he took the younger man’s chin in his hand and lifted his face up so he could palpate his neck.
“Stop blaming me,” Jim pouted like the infant he was deep down. “This is totally not my fault. I’m not the one who brought those monsters onto the ship.”
McCoy grumbled under his breath as he examined the blonde perfunctorily, making sure he’d be able to make it to the infirmary. His examination was cut short when Jim huffed, annoyed, and batted his hands away from his face so he could turn around and glare at Scotty some more.
“Get. Rid of them,” Jim said menacingly, the consequences of non-compliance loud and clear in the tone of his voice and pose of his body.
Scotty nodded vigorously and ran off towards the bowel of the engine room, no doubt to conjure up a solution to his troubles. Jim watched him scram with vindictive satisfaction even as McCoy tugged him out and away from the engine room.
“I’m taking you to the infirmary and putting you in isolation,” McCoy said matter of factly.
“What?” Jim tried to jerk his arm out of the doctor’s grip but it was unmovable. “Fuck no.”
“You’re not arguing your way out of this one, Jim. The isolation room is the only place where I can be relatively sure that the little buggers won’t infest, and I’m not going to risk you going into anaphylactic shock because of fur.”
“Ooh, that’s low, Bones,” Jim said accusingly, eyes narrowed, but he didn’t fight his friend as he was dragged throughout the hallways of the Enterprise.
*****
Jim stared morosely out of the window of the isolation room, watching the everyday bustles of an active infirmary on board a spaceship. Of course, the tiny balls of furs scattered throughout were anything but an everyday occurrence, and at the moment the sole reason why he wasn’t putting up a fuss about being confined to this tiny, self ventilated room. He’d take isolation over streaming eyes, running nose, and an inflamed throat any day of the week.
He fucking hated tribbles.
“Captain.”
Jim jerked at the voice, blue eyes blinking once as he focused on the tall figure by the window. He’d been so busy cursing Scotty that he hadn’t even noticed Spock standing at attention. He hopped off the bed and made his way to the intercom by the door, his smile tight and betraying his resignation.
“Hi Spock,” he replied despondently. “I hope you come bearing good news.”
“I am afraid the tribbles have infested most of our systems and it will take us some time to exterminate them all.” Spock paused as Jim’s small smile crumbled. “I am sorry, Jim.”
Jim groaned and leaned his head against the door. “Are they in the pool, too?”
Spock raised an eyebrow at the question. “I believe so, Jim.”
Jim groaned again. “Every damn time, Spock.”
“I’m sorry, sir?”
“I’d just finished repairing the pool maintenance system so we could have that swim lesson, Spock,” Jim sighed tiredly. “Now chances are that the tribbles that completely ruined the system and I’ll have to wait until I can do it all over again before I can finally have my lessons.”
Spock cocked his head to the side, silently appraising Jim. “Is that why you spent so many hours at the pool? You were not having lessons?”
Jim pulled head away from the door to look at Spock in surprise. “No. You promised me swim lessons and I’m holding you to it.”
“In that case, Captain,” Spock said, face serious but his eyes betraying his amusement and happiness. “I will order Commander Scott to fumigate the pool first and assign his best engineer to repair any damage done to the systems in that section.”
“Spock,” Jim drawled suspiciously. “You know protocol dictates that non-essential quarters be sealed and dealt with only after -”
“The pool is of vital importance to the well-being of the crew, Captain. It make sense to clear it out first and have it repaired so that by the time the ship is tribble-free, the crew may continue its use of the facility.”
“Why, Mister Spock,” Jim said as a blinding smile reshaped his lips and face. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say that is quite a romantic gesture on your part.”
“Thankfully, Captain,” Spock replied, a tiny corner of his lip curved upward as he inclined his head in his customary farewell, “you do.”
The sound of Jim’s laughter permeated throughout the infirmary as Spock made his way out the door and to engineering to terrorize Scotty some more.