Fic: As Morning Show the Day [Part 26]

[jade_dragoness]

Title: As Morning Shows the Day [Part 26]
Author: J.D. aka jade_dragoness
Rating: PG-13, for language.
Pairing: Kirk/Spock, ultimately
Status: WIP
Spoilers: Star Trek XI
Warning: Dangerous & Near Fatal Levels of Cuteness
Summary: Based on the switched version of the prompt: A de-aged fic where Spock has to take care of a kid-Kirk; preferably Kirk only listens to Spock, and freaks out when he's not around. (Or, you know, switched). Written for the st_xi_kink meme, found here.
Word Count: 2,800 for this part [total so far: 129,900]
Disclaimer: Star Trek doesn’t belong to me.
A/N: Just want to say thank you for everyone's encouraging comments!
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[“The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day” - John Milton ]
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AO3 Link for the entire fic: here
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[Previous Part Twenty-Five]

Almost as soon the shuttle bay had finished moving, Rand was waiting outside the shuttle doors. Jim saw her blue eyes flicker down to his and Spock's joined hands when they came out. A small smile swept across her face before she suppressed it, but it showed deepened crinkles around her blue eyes.

Jim glowered at her, daring her to say something.

“Captain,” she said, crisply. Her tone was completely professional even as her eyes danced. “I need your authorization on an urgent requisition from Medical.”

Jim blinked in surprise. He asked skeptically, “Really?”

Medical was probably the only department on the ship which Jim didn't have to authorize requisitions for. The CMO took care of all of it since urgent medical situations were prioritized. Bones, having the responsibility of the health of the crew on his shoulders, could get anything he wanted to be brought onboard as long as it had some kind of medical application. Or at least he claimed it had a medical application. Two words: medicinal brandy.

“Aye, Captain,” said Rand, as she held out the PADD to him.

Jim released Spock's hand and scanned the screen, nearly dropping it in his surprise.

'Jim, there's dinner set up for you and the mini-hobgoblin in observation room in Deck 6. You owe another one. Now, get your skinny ass over there before it gets cold. - McCoy'

Damn, Bones is awesome... and he's totally gonna own my ass by the time I'm thirty at the rate I'm owing him favors. Jim suppressed a horrified shudder at the thought of being his friend's guinea pig for who knew how long into the unforeseeable future. Jim tapped on the screen to write a quick thank you and passed the PADD back to Rand. “Pass that back to McCoy, would you yeoman?”

“Aye, sir,” Rand said. She flashed Spock a quick smile before turning and speeding off on her 'I'm-Unstoppable' walking pace.

“So, I have another surprise!” Jim said, grinning at Spock. He held out his hand, his palm already feeling cold without Spock's touch.

Spock took it even as he raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry.
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“Okay... this is were I admit that I didn't actually set this up,” Jim said slowly, as he and Spock stood in the double-doorway of the observation lounge.

Jim boggled at the transformed lounge. Instead of a neat room with different sized furniture, which ranged from long couches to single armchairs and low tables, all the furniture had been removed from their bolted positions on the deck. In their place there was a single small round table covered in a long white tablecloth, with two high-backed wooden chairs. Next to the table stood a large rolling cart loaded with food trays covered in polished silver cloches. The entire room was dark except for tiny white lights, which reminded Jim of small Christmas lights, that were scattered all over the floor, the walls and even hung from the ceiling. Combined with the view of the streaking stars through the windows, it created a rather good illusion that the table was floating in space.

There was even soft music playing. It sounded to Jim's ear like some kind of acoustic guitar although he wasn't certain since his musical tastes ran to loud, frentic and older than warp travel. And the kicker, at least to Jim's mind - and he knew exactly who was the meddling yeoman behind it - was a single long stemmed red rose in full bloom in a slender glass vase on the middle of the table. It was braced by two tapered white candles on silver candlesticks on the middle of the table.

The candles were already lit as if someone had run ahead.

Jim was probably the most romance blind human in existence but even he could tell this was epic for a first date dinner.

“Most impressive,” Spock said after taking it all in.

“Yeah, you can say that again,” agreed Jim, thoroughly impressed. Was it possible to give Rand and Bones a raise for this? Hell, he was treating everyone involved to a couple rounds on him in the next shore leave. This was so much better than anything he could've thought up, even if he'd gotten a week to plan it out.

No matter who often he said or thought it, it still applied: he had the best and most amazing crew in the Federation.

“Most impressive,” Spock repeated, deadpan.

Jim startled into laughter, and dragged the teen into the room. “Keep that up, and I'll never believe you when you say you don't get human humor.”

“I do not. Human humor is most complex and the subtleties often escape my understanding,” Spock replied at once, but a faint quirk of his lips gave him away.

“Well, you don't have to worry about that with me, I'm not exact a subtle guy,” Jim said, as he popped off one cloche. The buttery garlic scent which accompanied the white curlicues of steam coming off the polenta with shiitake mushrooms was so delicious that Jim's mouth started watering at once. Jim swallowed the veritable flood in his mouth.

“Your mind is intriguing and complex. It does not lack for subtlety,” Spock said calmly, even as he leaned to sniff at the air.

Jim felt his cheeks heat. Man, he's good for my ego. Bones may never forgive him if my head gets any bigger.

Spock turned to him, his eyebrow rising. “How would the circumference of your head increase?”

Jim startled, until he remembered Vulcan's touch-telepathy did mean words would be picked up along with emotions. “It's just a saying. Let's eat!”

Now, to figure out how to feed his grumbling belly with only one hand and not make a mess.
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“Captain Kirk, you are needed on the bridge. Captain Kirk, you are needed on the bridge.”

Jim paused in the middle of the story he'd been telling Spock. He'd been sharing more of himself, feeling oddly like he should considering that he'd been learning a lot about Spock in the past several days without really reciprocating. And wasn't that the point of dating, anyway?

So he'd talked about his happier memories in Riverside, also explaining one of the reasons (he had several, actually) as to how he'd developed a record as a repeat offender by the age of fifteen. Spock had been hilariously, appalled - in a very Vulcan way, of course - at learning Jim had picked up a habit of breaking into the cars of strangers for joyrides whenever he was bored which had been quite often. At least, whenever he wasn't blowing something up (reason number two).

Jim had just finished laughingly explaining that he learned to steal cars that he knew had something wrong with them so that when he returned them in better condition the owners rarely reported him - because otherwise his record would have been five times longer - when the call from the bridge came in.

Jim untangled his fingers from Spock's with a flash of regret as he got up to acknowledge the call.

“Bridge, I'm on my way. Kirk out,” Jim said, as he signed off the comm.

He turned to Spock, who looked back at him with an expressionless face.

“Oh man, I really hate to cut this short but-”

“I understand, Jim,” said Spock, interrupting him. “You are the Captain. As such your duties to the ship are a priority. You do not need to feel any negative emotions over this need. It only logical to shorten a social engagement.”

Jim studied Spock's expression but he couldn't read any tell on his still face which indicated that Spock was being anything other than sincere. He was instantly relieved that the teen understood. It had been his experience that not may civilians got it when he had to run off in the middle of… things. Most got pretty mad at him. And while he would've been pretty confident with his First Officer understanding having to cut the date short, he hadn't prepared to say the same of the teenaged Spock.

You'd think he would've learned to stop underestimating him after all this time of getting to know the young man.

“Thanks, Spock,” said Jim, smilingly even as he turned to head out. He paused at the double doors. “We definitely need to do this again.”

“Agreed.”

The firm agreement was the last thing Jim heard as he broke into a jog for the nearest turbolift. Crew flattened themselves to the side to get out of his way. He popped out of the turbolift and onto the bridge less than three minutes after the comm call.

“Captain on the bridge,” said Ensign Sakamoto, the communications officer of Beta shift. His voice was like a deep bell, catching the attention off all the bridge officers.

A couple of the crew did double-takes as seeing Jim in civvies but they went back to their jobs without any other reaction.

“Captain,” said Uhura, relief showing in her eyes even as she kept it out of her voice. She stood up from the captain's chair so Jim could settle into place. She stayed next to him, standing right at his side as she said, “Lt. Hernandez has confirmed a sensor lock on the Orion ship.”

Jim turned in the chair to face the science station. He said grimly, “Show me, Lt. Hernandez.”

“Aye, sir. On screen now.”

The bridge's large vid-screen instantly showed the display from the science station. And specifically a muted glowing orange dot, that could have been confused for a star by the naked eye, if it hadn't been keeping pace with the Enterprise at warp.

This confirmed it. They were being stalked by an Orion ship. Whatever 'ifs' and 'maybes' they'd been tossing about no longer applied. This was the predator that was waiting for the Enterprise to be at her most vulnerable before it attacked.

Well, not on my watch. And sure as hell not my ship, Jim thought furiously.

“Can you focus in for a closer look?” Jim asked after a beat of silence.

“The sensors have shown that it's keeping its distance a full parsec away from the Enterprise,” explained Hernandez. “The distance and the speed we're traveling is keeping me from getting any better data than this image, Captain.”

“At least, we know it's there,” said Uhura, crossing her arms as she glared at the image.

“Uhura, I want the all departments on standby alert,” ordered Jim.

“Aye aye, Captain,” she said. She turned to the communication's station, and Jim saw her visibly restrain herself from taking over from Ensign Sakamoto as she passed on long Jim's order.

Jim would've preferred to call red alert or even yellow alert right then and there but the automatic defenses which kicked in during these alert signals would've let the Orion's know that something was up. They couldn't let the other ship realize they'd been detected. Not when they were still crippled and several days away from Cygnet XIV and the system's starbase.

Jim put in call directly Engineering. “Scotty, I want us to go to warp 3. Will sustained warp 3 be a problem?”

“Nae, captain!” Scotty replied at once. “But I sure wouldnae go higher than that. I mean it! We 'ave the math for the stressors down to ten decimal places. All our numbers agree on that point. Warp 3, aye. warp 4, only for five minutes at a time or the Enterprise suffers catastrophic failure in the nacelle.”

“Okay, thank you, Scotty. Kirk out,” Jim said. He looked up. “Helmsman McKenna, bring us to warp factor 3.”

“Warp factor 3. Aye aye, Captain,” McKenna said, his fingers flying over the helm controls.

Jim leaned back on the chair, mentally doing the math for the changed navigation. Traveling at warp three would cut down their travel time to three more days --or 2.97326 days as Spock would've said had been on the bridge to correct him-- during which the Orion's would need keep their distance.

Alarmed by a sudden thought, Jim asked, “Hernandez, could they have detected our sensor sweeps?”

“Doubtful, sir,” Hernandez said at once, turning in the science station to face him. “At the distance they're maintaining the sensor scans would register only as part of the universal background radiation. But,” he hesitated, his brow furrowing in thought, “considering the lack of knowledge of the Orion ship's full capacity. I can't completely rule it out.”

“Have they made any change in their movements since you detected them?” Jim asked. His thoughts felt as if they'd hit warp speed, as plan after plan and possible danger after danger went through his mind. He reigned himself in, forcing himself to listen to his crew before he made his next decision.

Hernandez had just answered with a negative when the turbolift doors opened and McCoy walked in.

“What's going on?” he demanded. “Aren't we in the middle of warp? Why are we going on alert?” His frown deepened at the sight of Jim in his civilian clothes. “And weren't you on a date with the kid?” Bones stopped and put his hands on his hips. “Please, tell me you didn't just abandon Spock!”

The grins, muffled laughter, glances the bridge crew exchanged with each other, made Jim glower at his friend even as his cheeks heated.

“Not the time, Dr. McCoy,” Jim sing-songed warningly.

McCoy snorted, clearly not the least bit intimidated, “If the situation was really that dangerous, you'd have called for a red alert. Captain.”

It was the after-thought title which really made Jim want to pout. He sucked it up, and pointed at the bridge screen. “We finally have a confirmed sighting of the Orion ship. That isn't alarming enough for you, Bones? I could see about getting a couple Klingon warships in on the action if it's that important to you.”

McCoy ignored him, as he frowned at the screen display. “So that thing is really after us. Dammit, as if space isn't dangerous enough as it is.”

Jim braced himself for yet another rant on the various, unending dangers of space travel which would bring his count up to... Jesus, it would break triple digits soon.

But Bones surprised him.

“I want you down in Medical in less ten minutes,” McCoy said sternly.

“What? Why?” Jim asked warily. His neck twinged with phantom pains. He was going to develop a full-blown phobia to hyposprays before his one year anniversary of his captaincy at this rate

McCoy snorted, “A few of those transponders are ready.” He pointed at the image on the screen. “That, tells me we can't wait. I'm moving your timeslot up for your surgery.”

That was actually a good idea. Jim admitted to himself. He sighed as if he was making a large concession, “Alright, Bones. I'll see you there.”

“And you're next after him, Acting First Officer,” McCoy said sternly to Uhura.

Uhura's eyes widened before she nodded briskly. “Yes, Dr. McCoy.”

“See, Jim that's how you take an order from your CMO. Without suspicion or whining,” McCoy said before he turned and left grumbling loudly about how pointy-eared hobgoblin first officers needed to learn that too and how he was getting sick and tired of threatening adult Starfleet officers into behaving.

“You're supposed to resist,” Jim said earnestly to Uhura, as soon as the turbolift doors closed. “If he sees you give in too quickly, he'll know you're afraid and then--” Jim shook his head with mock-sadness. “-- it's all over.”

“Yes, Captain,” Uhura said, her voice so sarcastic that Jim couldn't help but grin. “I'll do my best to follow your extraordinarily brave example.”

Jim's grin widened at the chuckles from the bridge crew. The tension which had been building at the sight of the Orion ship on the screen settled down into lower levels. It didn't leave entirely, but there was a lot less stress on the body language of his officers.

Jim let the reprieve linger for several minutes before he got to his feet. He praised Hernandez for his good work, and told him to pass on his compliments to the Science department. Jim also asked for the names of every crew member who'd been involved to be sent along to his com-account. He wanted to personally mark their files with his commendation of their work.

Before he left he ordered. “Uhura, you have the conn. Just keep me appraised of the situation, and inform all shift commanders, I want to know the moment the Orions make any kind of movement.”

“Aye, Captain,” Uhura agreed as she settled back into the captain's chair.

Jim took a second to admire her poise. There was nothing evident in her voice, or her face which could have told anyone -except possibly a telepath - of her doubts and anxiety over taking over the role of First Officer.

Jim gave himself a mental pat on the back for his excellent choice before leaving the turbolift and taking it down to the medical bay.

TBC in Part Twenty-Seven