Fic: As Morning Shows the Day, [part 9]

[jade_dragoness]

Title: As Morning Shows the Day [Part 9]
Author: J.D. aka jade_dragoness
Rating: PG-13, for language. Gen
Pairing: K/S pre-slash/friendship
Status: WIP
Spoilers: Star Trek XI
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: 5,055 for this part [total so far: 47,455]
Disclaimer: Never ever will be mine. *sadness*
A/N: Part Nine! \o/ This fic is chugging along. Thank you to everyone that’s been reading and commenting! ♥
Feedback is hugely welcomed. Feel free to point out any errors I missed.
*-*-*-*
[“The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day” - John Milton ]
*-*-*-*
[Part One]
[Part Two]
[Part Three]
[Part Four]
[Part Five]
[Part Six]
[Part Seven]
[Part Eight]

The com beeped with a message which Jim clicked to open up and Yeoman Rand’s face filled the window.

“Captain Kirk, I have the reports that need to be signed off before you are unavailable for the rest of the day,” said Rand.

“Alright, Rand,” sighed Jim, “send them over.”

Another window opened to show a list of only seven reports.

Jim’s eyebrows went up in surprise.

On any given day there was an average ten to twenty reports to be signed off. And that was on a day during which nothing much happened and Jim still had a first officer who did part of the paperwork. On the more exciting days, reports could go over fifty and had even reached triple digits, depending on the state of the ship and the crew.

Just the amount of paperwork generated the day of Nero’s attack on the Federation had produced over 500 reports on the Enterprise, alone. And Jim had been stuck having to sign off on every single one.

Jim rather suspected it was that occasion which had provoked his deep and unrelenting hatred of all things paperwork.

Rand read his expression correctly. She added, “The other reports are not a priority, sir. So you can enjoy your movie night with Mr. Spock.”

“Well, thank you Yeoman Rand,” said Jim, touched. This was the first time that Rand had ever been lenient about getting those reports signed off. Once she’d even demanded signatures when he was stuck in sickbay with a broken leg waiting for Bones to get around to him after healing the other away team members.

At that time, she’d pointed out at his arms were perfectly fine.

“Captain, are you planning on viewing the movies in Mr. Spock‘s quarters?” asked Rand.

“Yeah,” said Jim. “Why do you ask?”

“Would it not be better to see them in Rec Room 3?”

“That would be excellent, but even a captain has to wait the regular time on the rotation to have access to the big screen,” Jim said, wondering where she was going with this line of questioning.

There were three recreation rooms on the Enterprise. One of them had a big screen and stage which were used to watch movies, for speeches and for plays because it had the best acoustics out of all three. That rec room was on a week long waiting period because of all the people that vied for its use. The other rec rooms were big enough that groups of people could share it and they had no waiting list. Rec Room 1 & 2 were the game rooms that had everything from mahjong, go, backgammon, various versions of chess and checkers, and other human and non-human board games.

It even had a set of Vulcan kal-toh, though Jim hadn’t seen anyone other than Spock or Chekov touch the game in months.

“The Shakespeare Acting Club has agreed to relinquish their time slot to you, sir. They’ll meet up in Rec Room 2,” said Rand.

Jim stared at her. Rec Room 2 had the pinball machines, pool tables and other louder interactive games. It would be the last place the Shakespeare Acting Club would chose to meet up.

“Yeoman, you… did you ask them to do that?” asked Jim, frowning. “Because I-”

“No, sir!” she said, interrupting him. “Everyone knows that you have a movie night planned with Mr. Spock. They came up to me and volunteered their time slot for the commander.”

A slow wide smile spread across Jim’s face. He could feel his cheeks ache from the force of it.

Now, we’re talking! A big screen is perfect and exactly what was missing!

“That‘s great!” said Jim, enthused. “Pass on my thanks to everyone, will ya?”

“Already done, captain,” said Rand. “The time slot opens up at 1800 hours to 2300.”

More than enough time to see several movies.

“The reports will need to be completed before this time,” added Rand, firmly.

Jim gave her a sulky look. He sighed, “Fine, yeoman. They‘ll be in your com before then.”

Rand nodded in acceptance and signed off.

Jim grumbled, only half-kidding in his threats to transfer her to another ship and opened up the first report.

He had just finished signing it when Jim realized that Spock had still not emerged from the restroom. He frowned in worry, set the tribble on the computer desk and got up to walk to the locked entrance of the restroom.

“Hey, Spock,” Jim called, rapping on the door with his knuckles. “You okay, in there kiddo?”

“I am in standard health,” Spock called back, his voice low and muffled through the door. “I am… simply having unexpected difficulty with the foot apparel.”

“Oh, want to come out? I can help you with that,” said Jim, unable to resist grinning.

The door opened and Spock reluctantly walked out.

Jim bit his lower lip as he realized that while Spock had been able to get into the outfit that Jim had picked out just fine. For some reason the small white sneakers’ laces had managed to defeat the boy.

They were now tangled knots.

“I do not believe that these sort of foot apparel to be at all logical for standard use,” said Spock. He was practically frowning, a full blown frown of displeasure instead of his usual hint of a expression, down at his shoes.

Jim had to bite down on his lip even harder now just to hold in his laughter.

“I take it that Vulcan shoes don‘t normally come with laces?” asked Jim, dropping down to his knees. He encouraged Spock to lift up a foot and place it on Jim’s thigh.

Spock watched him as Jim began delicately picking apart the knot.

“No. It is more practical to use latches,” said Spock. “Or other methods of tightening.”

A pull on a lace made Spock wobble and he had to reach out to Jim’s shoulder to hold himself steady.

“Ah ha!” said Jim, as he got one sneaker to unknot. He promptly went and tied Spock’s shoe correctly.

Spock eyed Jim’s fingers intently. As soon as Jim finished pull the loops apart so that the shoe laces tightened. Spock pulled back.

“I believe that I have a grasp on the necessary procedure,” said Spock, stoically.

Jim smiled a him. “Okay, Spock. Well, I‘m here if you need me.”

Spock nodded and went to sit on a chair where he could pull up his leg to work on the still knotted sneaker.

Jim went back to the computer. He grabbed the tribble which had wiggled closer to the computer‘s warmth. “Spock. Catch.”

Spock looked up and saw the tribble arching through the air and trilling in alarm.

He brought his hands up and caught the furry creature perfectly.

“Nice catch,” said Jim, turning back to the computer.

“Jim!” Spock scolded. “That is no way to treat a living being.”

“Tribbles are tough,” said Jim with a grin as Spock made an aggrieved noise behind him while the tribble trilled as if to agree.

Jim focused on the computer monitor. He only finished one more report when the com beeped with another incoming message. He opened a window to see Bones looking at him.

“Have you ever seen Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory?!” shouted McCoy, without even a greeting or giving Jim the chance to say hello.

Jim blinked at him. “Yeah, Bones. Not since I was ten years old, though. What‘s up?”

McCoy grimaced. “It‘s a damn creepy movie, Jim.”

Jim stared at him in surprise. “Are we talking about the same movie here? Very old classic? Beloved of millions for centuries? A kid‘s movie about candy?”

“It‘s about a grown man, running a bunch of kids through the kinds of tests that would get him thrown in prison, these days,” said McCoy, with a frown. “It gave my little girl nightmares for weeks after she saw it.”

“Nightmares? What sort of nightmares?” asked Jim, tossing Spock a look. The last thing he wanted was Spock to have more nightmare fodder.

Spock didn’t look up, having successfully tied his left over shoe he was now looking at the tricorder and scanning his shod feet. Then he shifted the tricorder to scan the tribble.

“She kept dreaming that bubblegum would turn her into a giant blueberry,” said McCoy, dryly.

Jim turned back to him and grinned. “A blueberry?”

“Big, round and blue. She dreamt that Wonka was having her juiced. I don‘t think she‘s touched a piece of gum, since,” continued McCoy.

“Alright, Bones, go ahead and strike it off the list,” said Jim, unable to stifle a snicker. “Do you have any suggestion to take its place?”

“I‘ll think of something.”

“You do that, and hey Bones,” said Jim. “The plan to meet up in Spock‘s quarters has been changed.”

“Oh?” asked McCoy, with interest.

“We‘ve got Rec Room 3 for movie night,” said Jim, smugly.

McCoy’s eyebrow went up in surprise. “How‘d you manage to pull that off?”

“With my winning charm and sex appeal, of course!” said Jim, preening.

“Yeah right, and my name is Queen Sheba,” said McCoy, sarcastically. “How‘d you really do it?”

Jim mock-scowled, then admitted. “The Shakespeare Club - you know the one that acts out scenes from the plays - had the slot so they went and gave us their time.”

“You mean they gave up the time slot for Spock,” corrected McCoy.

Jim nodded.

McCoy chuckled, “If you‘re not careful, Jim, the kid will go and replace you as captain. He‘s already has the crew under his thumb.”

Spock looked up at this from where he was reading his PADD. “Such an action of mutiny would be most illogical. I have not yet regained my memories of being a Starfleet officer.”

McCoy heard Spock’s response and grinned at Jim. “So, when he gets those memories back…”

Jim rolled his eyes at his friend. He said amused, “See you at 1800 hours, Bones.”

“I‘ll be there,” said McCoy, and cut off the video feed.

“Doctor McCoy is highly incorrect in his assessment,” said Spock, with the corners of his mouth turning down.

“Oh, he‘s just teasing. He means no harm,” explained Jim, his tone reassuring.

“I have had experience with fellow students who have also used his method of ‘teasing’. I have never considered it to be a positive experience,” said Spock, still looking skeptical.

Jim stared at Spock, taken aback by this revelation.

He’d never thought that Spock would have been bullied while growing up on Vulcan. It seemed like such an - well - illogical and emotional act. Especially for Vulcan kids.

Damn. No wonder Spock is having such a hard time accepting all the affection from everyone. It isn‘t just that he not used to all that emotion but he‘s also not used to all the friendliness being poured on him, thought Jim, adding a few more mental swear words.

“Bullying,” said Jim, softly. “Is not the same. Bullying is intended to hurt. To intimidate. Teasing is much more friendly.”

Spock just gave him a blank look.

“Bones… well, he has a pretty gruff manner but he‘s not a bully. Though he does have a temper,” said Jim. He was uncertain as to what was the best way to explain his best friend to Spock. Even grownup Spock had a hard time dealing with Bones. “But he‘s a pretty gentle soul. He just don‘t get close to people, easily. And teasing is just a way of bonding among humans,” Jim finally summed up. “He‘s not being malicious about it.”

Spock’s brow furrowed. “I do not understand.”

Jim ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He was rather stuck on how to explain the depth of complexity that was one Leonard ‘Bones’ McCoy to a nine year old Vulcan.

“Well, when he‘s demanding that I show up to be scanned for something or he hypos without warning, it‘s usually because he‘s concerned,” said Jim. “He‘s not the sort to go and tell me that he‘s worried about me. He‘ll usually just yell about it.”

“Would it not be more efficient simply to express this concern?” asked Spock.

“Probably, but that‘s not Bones‘ personality,” said Jim. “Once you know how to read what he really means instead of what he‘s saying then he‘s pretty easy to get along with.”

“Is this a human trait?” asked Spock, brows still furrowed a bit in puzzlement. “My mother did not express herself in this manner.”

“It‘s a trait for Bones,” answered Jim. “I‘m not sure if I‘d call it a human trait.”

“I will conduct research on the subject of human behavior for further information,” said Spock with a firm nod.

“Or you could take notes on Bones when we meet up with him,” said Jim, smirking.

Oh, Bones is going to love that. Spock keeping an eye on him and taking notes on him. He‘ll explode once he finds out! And I‘ll be the one to get the earful, Jim thought, amused.

“An excellent suggestion, Jim,” said Spock. “A direct analysis would be most prudent.”

Jim just nodded, not trusting himself to speak in case he burst out laughing.

That’s one way to get the kid to pay attention to Bones, and not consider him a threat, Jim thought smugly. I have the best ideas.

The computer beeped again, and Jim turned back around. This time it was a text message from Chekov with the list of promised ‘Russian’ classic movies. Nearly all, Jim noticed weren’t actually Russian. Though, the animated movie titled Anastasia was at least set in the right continent.

Jim quickly wrote him back a thank you and then he forwarded the list to Bones. That was the last interruption he got from others so Jim was able to finish the reports quickly and get them sent back to Rand.

“Hey, Spock,” said Jim. “I‘m done with it for now.” He stood up and stretched. “We‘ve got about ten minutes or so until we head over to Rec Room 3, so if you want to use the computer to look up anything, go ahead.”

Spock nodded, then he paused, “Would the tribble be allowed to accompany us into the recreational room?”

Jim looked at the ball of brown fur that has purring happily in Spock’s lap.

“Yeah, why not?” said Jim. “But it‘s not getting any popcorn!”
*-*-*-*

Jim was rather amused at the very slow procession that they made walking through the halls of the starship because Spock kept scanning everything that caught his interest as they went along.

Everything from the bulkhead, to carpet, to panels, and even the crew themselves. Crewmen and women would stop and allow themselves to be scanned by the boy, grinning the whole while before they moved on.

A couple of the non-humans that they passed even stopped to answer a few questions posed by Spock, who very seriously recorded their answers on his PADD. He had to carry the PADD in his hands because the tribble rode along in the wide front pocket of Spock’s black overalls.

That was why, instead of showing up at 1800 hours like they’d planned, they reached Rec Room 3 at 1825.

“You‘re late!” said McCoy, frowning at them. “I was just about to give up on you and start the movies anyway.”

“Don‘t look at me,” said Jim, raising his hands up defensively.

“My apologies, Doctor McCoy,” said Spock, stiffly. His small shoulders were set back and his chin was up. “I did not intended to cause an inconvenience.”

Jim rather thought that the tribble shirt and the actual tribble ridding in Spock’s overalls kind of detracted a lot of severity from the cold expression on Spock’s face.

“Oh… well… that‘s okay,” said McCoy, flustered. His eyes were wide in surprise at what Spock was wearing. And from what Jim could read on is his face and his twitching fingers, Bones was getting the urge to ruffle the kid’s hair.

Jim smirked at him. McCoy caught his look and glowered right back. Then his mouth quirked up and he cocked his head at Spock’s shirt. He mouthed at Jim, ‘Pictures?’

Jim nodded but then tore his gaze away from him to sniff the air. He instantly brightened. “Hey, you remembered the popcorn! Alright!”

McCoy grumbled, “As if I could forget. You only sent me a billion reminders to bring it.”

“A billion is an improbable estimate,” said Spock, following behind Jim as he made a beeline for the plastic multi-colored tubs resting on a table.

“Well, he tried for it,” said McCoy, following after that. “And I knew that if I did manage to forget he‘d whine about it forever.”

“What kind did you get?” asked Jim as he ignored his friend’s griping. He popped open a blue opaque plastic container. Caramel popcorn gleamed up at him. A fresh waft of sweet and warm popcorn hit his nose. Jim licked his lips

“I figured that the kid hasn‘t tried it before, so I brought all the types I could think of,” answered McCoy. “Blue for caramel, yellow for butter and salt, white for plain, red for kettle, and orange for cheddar.”

“Hmm,” said Jim, reaching for the yellow plastic container.

Instantly, McCoy slapped his reaching hand.

“Hey!” yelped Jim. He cradled his stinging hand to his chest. “What was that for?”

Spock’s eyes were wide as he watched them. Jim gave him a reassuring wink.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Your genetics show a tendency towards obesity. No butter for you,” scolded McCoy.

A look of understanding spread across Spock’s face.

Jim gave McCoy his best aggrieved look. “Oh, come on, Bones. Do I look like I need to lose weight?” Jim gestured to himself. “I‘m the hottest captain in the fleet!”

McCoy just crossed his arms.

Jim turned to his only ally in the room. “How about you, Spock? Don‘t you think that I look good? You agree with me that I don‘t need to lose weight, right?”

Spock’s eyes went wide again, caught off-guard by Jim’s question. A flush green rose in his cheeks.

“Aw, leave the kid out of this,” said McCoy. He pointed a finger at Jim. “Just think of it this way. You want to keep your looks? Stay the hell away from the buttered popcorn.” And with that he picked up the plain popcorn and shoved it into Jim’s arms.

Jim sulked, but held onto the container to keep it from dropping onto the deck. He opened it up and pulled out a handful of popcorn, and popped them in his mouth.

At least, it’s not unsalted.

“Kid, you can have any pick of the popcorn you want. You can try them all,” said McCoy gently. “I‘d recommend the kettle corn, though.”

“I‘ll get the movie set up to play,” sighed Jim, leaving Spock to look over the popcorn carefully. He had to get away before gave in and snatched a grab of the butter popcorn.

Damn it, Bones! You could at least have stuck the lid back on it. The scent of it was going to drive him crazy, Jim just knew it.

A snort of amusement made him look up from the computer to see Bones fighting back a laugh as he watched Spock pull out his tricorder to scan all the types of popcorn.

Jim smiled fondly at them both and set the computer to start the movie in a few minutes. He rather thought that Spock would need the time to finish his analysis of the snacks.

“Did you bring any soda?” asked Jim, around a mouthful of kernels.

McCoy grimaced at him. “No, pop isn‘t any better for you than butter, Jim. You‘ve got a choice of water or apple juice.”

“Water and plain popcorn,” complained Jim. “That‘s practically the same as bread and water. Are you sure this isn‘t some torture regime you‘ve set up for me? What have I ever do to you?”

“You want a list?”

“Doctor McCoy is seeking to enforce a dietary change to benefit your health,” chimed in Spock, he was practically frowning at this tricorder. “According to these scans the buttered popcorn has more than the recommended daily intake saturated hydrocarbon fatty acids.”

“Now, you‘re just tormenting me,” groaned Jim, thinking of all that tasty butter.

Spock looked up, his slanted eyebrows lifting a bit. “I am not. I would never do such a thing.”

“Ignore him, he‘s just teasing you,” said McCoy , as he bent down and pulled a small cooler from under the table. He pulled out a bottle of beer and handed Jim a bottle of apple juice. “That‘s what I do when he‘s being a brat, kid.”

Jim pointedly glared at the beer in McCoy’s hands. McCoy just as pointedly, ignored him.

Spock blinked.

Jim smiled at him, then said to McCoy. “Keep it up, Bones. See if I invite you to another movie night anytime soon.”

McCoy just rolled his eyes.

Spock grabbed the kettle popcorn just as McCoy had recommended. He then followed Jim to the seats where Jim had retreated to sulk and mentally swear at his best friend.

Jim had deliberately set out three seats for them to use, and had sat in the far right so that Spock would have the choice of sitting between him and Bones or only next to Bones. From the hesitation that Jim saw, it was clear that the kid wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about the choices. But he went and sat in the middle, just like Jim had thought he would.

The chairs had built in cup holders, one per arm, and Jim watched in amusement as Spock carefully put his water in one and the tribble in the other. Fortunately, the tribble was small enough that it fit without difficulty. The red tub of kettle popcorn went down near his feet. Spock also set the tricorder on the deck as he shoved the PADD into the front pocket that had just recently held the tribble.

“Still carrying the thing around, I see,” observed McCoy.

“Mr. Scott has yet to request that I return his pet to him,” said Spock, calmly.

“That‘s good,” said McCoy, clearly stalled on what to say to Spock.

Hell, thought Jim, greatly amused at his friend. He’s more used to shouting at Spock, not at all in making small talk with him.

Spock didn’t look particularly reassured at having to sit next to McCoy either.

“Don‘t worry, Spock, Bones doesn‘t bite,” said Jim, with a grin. “Oh, wait. I forgot. There was that one time.”

Spock’s brown eyes went wide and he shot McCoy a startled look, that was swiftly hidden away.

McCoy saw it though, and it made him smile before he rolled his eyes at Jim.

“Oh, for crying out loud, how many times do I have to tell you, Jim? That was your fault,” said McCoy. He turned to Spock. “He‘d gotten into a fight with an alien that had - not only four arms - but twice the strength of a human.”

Spock looked at Jim as if to verify this.

Jim shrugged, “I still say I could have taken him.”

“Jim, you were so drunk that he had you pinned up against the bar with one hand while he punched you with the other, and kept you from kicking him with the other two,” said McCoy, dryly.

“You were just as drunk, which is why you bit him. Right on the arm that was holding me,” said Jim.

“It was the only thing in reach from my stool,” muttered McCoy.

“What Bones wasn‘t expecting,” said Jim to Spock, “was that biting was a proposal of marriage to that guy‘s people.”

McCoy’s face turned red.

“At least, he stopped beating you up,” he said defensively, still blushing at the reminder of that. He’s been too drunk to protest the alien man grabbing him and dragging him out of the bar in acceptance of his accidental proposal.

“I had to rescue him before the guy took him to the nearest government registry office,” said Jim, grinning. “I got there just in time to stop the wedding. Barely.”

Spock’s eyes were wider than ever.

“See, so there‘s no way that McCoy will ever bite anyone again,” concluded Jim.

“You are teasing him,” observed Spock, after a moment. “The way that he teased you.”

“It‘s what friends do,” said McCoy.

Spock nodded, if not understanding of this human behavior then at least in acceptance of it.

And more importantly, Jim noted, he looked a helluva lot more relaxed that he had when Bones had sat next to him. Jim felt pleased that some of the aversion that Spock had been feeling for McCoy had waned away with that story.

Which had been the point of him telling it. It’s hard to be scared of someone when you had evidence that they made silly mistakes like that.

McCoy had noticed Spock’s reaction too, and there was a small delighted smile on his face.

Then the lights of Rec Room 3 dimmed down, and the big screen went white and then black as The Wizard of Oz began to play.

Spock pulled his PADD out of his pocket.

“We‘ve both seen this movie before Spock, so if you have any questions go ahead and ask us,” said Jim.

“Very well,” said Spock. Interestingly enough, Spock didn’t say a peep for the first few minutes.

“When was this movie produced?”

“1939, Earth-time,” answered McCoy.

“It‘s among the oldest movies to have survived into this century,” said Jim.

Spock nodded and made a note on his PADD.

Jim spent more time watching Spock than watching the movie. Like he said, he’s already seen it before. Watching Spock see it for the first time, on the other hand, was brand spanking new.

“Why did Professor Marvel tell an untruth about his ability to foresee the future?” asked Spock, with a frown at the corners of his lips. “It is clear that he has no such talent.”

“He‘s a charlatan,” said McCoy, before Jim could speak.

“He‘s an entertainer,” said Jim, in defense of the old man. “He‘s a good guy though, that‘s why he said what he said. So, Dorothy would decide for herself to go back home.”

Spock took more notes. Jim and McCoy exchanged grins over his bowed head.

If Spock was reacting like this at the beginning of the movie, how in the world was he going to take the witches? Or even a scarecrow with no brain?

Spock straightened up in his chair as Dorothy’s house was sucked into the twister. “That is impossible. The wind speed necessary to lift an entire domicile would have also destroyed it.”

Jim smiled, “A lot of the movie isn‘t going to be realistic.”

“That‘s part of the fun,” added McCoy. He pointed at the screen where Dorothy was waving at an old woman in a chair as she flew by in the twister. “That wouldn‘t happen in real life, either.”

As Dorothy walked into a new world of bright color compared to the sepia of her normal life in Kansas, and gave her famous line about not being in Kansas anymore to her dog, Spock’s note taking waned as he watched in fascination.

“I was not aware that the technology for force fields was available in 20th century Earth,” said Spock, as Glinda floated down in her big pink bubble.

“It wasn‘t,” said Jim. “A lot of the effects were done through camera trickery. Later in the century, it’s done with computers.”

“Interesting,” said Spock.

“What? Not fascinating?” asked McCoy.

“No. Merely interesting. I shall have to look up in the computer archives to see how such effects were achieved without computers,” said Spock.

The expression that Spock made at the dancing and singing munchkins was just as hilarious as Jim had thought it would be.

Spock looked like he wanted to cringe but Vulcan stoicism refused to let him.

“Not the most melodious of voices,” muttered Spock, sounding almost grumpy.

“Too high-pitched for you?” asked Jim, feeling sympathetic as Spock winced when the trio of Lullaby League dancers came out.

“We can lower the volume,” volunteered McCoy, making movements to get up.

Spock shook his head. “That will be unnecessary, I simply had not expected such a high vocal range but now I have adjusted.”

McCoy nodded and settled back in his chair. “You got to tell us if it gets to you,” he scolded.

But Spock was just paying attention to the movie again.

When the Wicked Witch appeared in a puff of red smoke, Spock nearly dropped the PADD. The eerie music that accompanied her made the tribble trill urgently in its cupholder until Spock petted it.

“First contact on Earth was between humans and Vulcans,” said Spock, his voice sounding rather stunned. “How is it possible for an Orion to have been on Earth at the time this was produced?”

“It‘s make-up,” said Jim, amused.

“I do not understand,” said Spock, turning to face him.

“It’s a way of making non-medical alterations on a human, so it‘s not so obvious that they are human,” added McCoy.

“So, the appearance of the green woman who could easily pass for an Orion is coincidence?” asked Spock, looking from Jim to McCoy and back.

“Yup,” said Jim. “Just human imagination running wild.”

“… fascinating,” said Spock. He leaned forward as the movie merrily continued.

McCoy tossed Jim a smirk and mouthed ‘now it’s fascinating’ at him. Jim grinned right back.

“How could a humanoid sentient being be able to converse without a brain?” asked Spock, his brow furrowing in confusion as he watched the Scarecrow explain to Dorothy his particular problem. “This is a highly unlikely scenario.”

Jim grinned at the petulant tone in Spock’s voice.

“Are you saying that no one can move around and talk without a brain?” asked McCoy. “In all the wide crazy universe, it can never happen?”

Spock said primly, “The probabilities of such an situation occurring is too low for me to provide an accurate number.”

Jim just stifled a laugh at the expression on Bones’ face at Spock’s rejoinder.

McCoy crossed his arms and said smugly to Spock, “I‘ll remember you said that.”

TBC in [Part Ten]

So, TOS fans will recognize that little reference to an episode at the end there. I could not resist… Yes, my sense of humor is that strange. =D