Fic: As Morning Shows the Day, [part 18]

[jade_dragoness]

Title: As Morning Shows the Day [Part 18]
Author: J.D. aka jade_dragoness
Rating: PG-13, for language. Gen.
Pairing: K/S pre-slash/friendship
Status: WIP
Spoilers: Star Trek XI
Warning: Dangerous & Near Fatal Levels of Cuteness
Summary: Based on the switched version of the prompt: A de-aged fic where Spock has to take care of a kid-Kirk; preferably Kirk only listens to Spock, and freaks out when he's not around. (Or, you know, switched). Written for the st_xi_kink meme, found here.
Word Count: 5,115 for this part [total so far: 97,785]
Disclaimer: Never ever will be mine. *sadness*
A/N: The story is about to break 100,000 words. Wow. I sure didn’t think that would happen when I first started writing this. Thank you to everyone for the feedback in the last part!
As always, feedback is hugely welcomed. Also, please feel free to point out any errors I missed.
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[“The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day” - John Milton ]
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[Part One], [Part Two], [Part Three], [Part Four], [Part Five], [Part Six], [Part Seven], [Part Eight], [Part Nine], [Part Ten], [Part Eleven], [Part Twelve], [Part Thirteen], [Part Fourteen], [Part Fifteen], [Part Sixteen], [Part Seventeen]

It didn’t strike Jim that he hadn’t shown this version Spock his quarters before until they were approaching it. It made him hesitate for a split second before he got within the door sensors.

At least, there’s no mess, Jim thought, amused at himself. He was certain that if he’d left a mess in his room then his yeoman would have taken care of it. Rand was reliable that way.

As soon as Jim passed the threshold he called the computer for lights. Jim turned to look at Spock’s reaction.

Spock was looking around, his brown eyes gleaming with interest and suppressed curiosity.

It made Jim look at his own room with new eyes.

It was a pretty bare room. Jim hadn’t come to Starfleet Academy with anything more than the clothes he’d been wearing. And in the three years he’d been taking classes he hadn’t bought many things or pulled any of his property out of storage.

Other than the usual standard issue furniture that all the higher ranked officer quarters had, his room had an extra bookshelf. It was filled halfway with old-style paper books, an eclectic mix that ranged from Westerns to Shakespeare. Half were replicated and the other half were real old paper, veritable antiques. The shelves also held trinkets. Not the usual standard knick-knacks but personal reminders of the planets and missions that the Enterprise had gone on.

Jim had everything from a dried flower from Getty V that had made him high and silly, fully neutralized, of course, to the spear head that had nearly killed him, to a red pebble that he’d found on the transporter pad after Spock had beamed back up from Vulcan. Jim thought that it had been caught on the robes of one of the Vulcan elders. He’d even thought about giving it to Spock. It was the last small bit of the planet to survive. He ended up talking himself out of it. Spock had lost too much that day for a pebble to mean anything.

At least, he’d believed that once. Jim wasn’t that certain that it was true anymore. Of the older Spock, not the kid.

The paper books drew Spock like a magnet until the boy was staying right in front of the bookcase, staring at Jim’s Mark Twain collection. Jim had a special liking for that old American author. He had a clever and a sardonic humor that appealed to Jim. Anyway, they had been childhood favorites that hadn’t lost their appeal even after all these years.

Other than the items on the bookshelf, the entire room was empty of personal effects. It was probably not a good sign that a Vulcan had a more decorated room than he did. Even if he was half-human.

It just makes me glad that Bones is in charge of my psych evaluations.

“Pick out a book if you want,” said Jim, as he reached past Spock to drop the white wooden comb onto the shelf. Marh had told him that he could keep it. He thought that the comb would be perfect memento to remember this mission. Well other than all the pictures of Spock he‘d sneakily taken. Jim rather liked having a physical objects as reminders.

“I have never personally read this author,” said Spock, “but I have had the stories read to me by my mother.”

Oh, no wonder he’s drawn to them.

Spock’s fingers hovered right above ’The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn’.

“She has good taste,” said Jim, quietly. “Though if you’re going to read one you should read ‘The Adventures of Tom Sawyer’ first.”

Spock nodded and gently pried both books out of the shelf. He treated them with care and it made Jim wonder if somehow Spock could tell that those books were true paper. Or if it was simply a love of reading that made him treat the novels like treasures.

Either way, Jim was silently pleased. Those books had been a true find that he’d stumbled across a used book store in San Francisco and one the few things he’d bought for himself while in the Academy.

Jim then had to grin as Spock promptly headed for the chair before the com-unit. He sat down and opened up the cover of ‘Tom Sawyer’ to start reading, right then and there. Jim took the opportunity to take a quick shower and change of clothes. He was really grimy and sticky with sweat. Jim had picked out a few bits of leaf from his hair already, he didn’t even want to begin to imagine what else he’d picked up from the planet. At the very least, Bones’ scans had cleared him of insects or insect eggs.

By the time he came out the restroom wearing casual clothes Spock was already several pages into the book. He was so absorbed into the story that he didn’t even look up as Jim walked past him.

Jim gave him a fond look and went to find his own PADD.

He wanted to upload some articles to read without being tied to the com-unit and he also had to write a couple letters. It took him a moment to discover where it had gone since he hadn’t had to use the PADD for several days. He snorted in amusement when he found it under his own bed. He didn‘t even remember dumping it down there. The PADD was dusty so he absently wiped the screen with his fingers and then cleaned his fingers on the Starfleet issue coverlet.

“Spock, I‘m all set,” said Jim, looking over to the boy.

Spock nodded. He carefully shut the book cover, tucking both books under his arms and stood up.

“Do you want anything from your room? Or do you want to take a shower?” asked Jim.

“I need a new set of clothes,” said Spock. “While the overalls are loose enough to still be comfortable the shirt has become too tight. I should also return the tribble to its cage.”

Jim considered Spock, and he could see that the cloth against Spock’s shoulders was stretched tight. The sleeves of the shirt had risen up to expose the fine bones of the boy’s wrists.

“How old are you now, Spock?” asked Jim, fascinated. Spock’s growth was pretty significant.

“I am currently 11 years, 6 months, 2 weeks, 3 days and 1.1 hours old,” said Spock.

Jim blinked in surprise. He’s eleven years old already?

He trailed after Spock as the boy led them next door to his own room. And he wondered if Spock had gotten back that memory of the altercation he’d had with his fellow students that Sarek had told him about. There was no way to be certain without actually asking the kid.

I wonder how important of a memory it is? wondered Jim. It wasn’t like Sarek had expanded much on it. He mentally shrugged to himself. Well, it‘s not like I can ask him about every single thing that went on his life.

While Spock went about getting new clothes and setting the trilling and clearly unhappy tribble back into its cage, Jim downloaded the articles about Vulcan adolescence that he’d been reading into his PADD.

“Do you want to stay in your room?” asked Jim, when Spock came out of the rest room. He let him have access to the com-unit since he was done with it.

Spock tilted his head in thought as he downloaded the information from the tricorder to the computer. The computer beeped as it consolidated the data for Spock. “What would you consider as an alternative?” Spock promptly put everything into his own PADD.

“Well, we can go and enjoy the view from one of the observation rooms,” said Jim, thoughtfully. “I‘m feeling kind of sick and tired of being in the room.” They had been spending several hours every day in Spock’s rooms, even without being asleep. He wanted to spend some time relaxing elsewhere just for a change of pace. The Cromtician planet, as great as it was to have fresh air and sunshine, had been duty. He had still had to be alert. “There‘s also the recreation rooms, though they‘ll probably be more noisy than the observation room.”

“An observation room would be more in keeping with the theme of a quiet evening,” said Spock, solemnly.

Jim grinned. “That‘s true. We can visit the Rec rooms later. There are some very interesting games there.” He was suddenly struck by the appealing image of getting Spock to play with the air hockey table, or any of the other games that Spock - older Spock - had declared to be illogical.

The only kind of games that Jim had ever seen Spock touch had been the chess sets. He had a feeling that Spock would enjoy pool, it being mostly about figuring out vectors and applied forces. Jim was pretty certain that he could get Spock to like it but only if he tried it first. The chance at getting to change Spock’s mind about those games made Jim damn near bounce in excitement. He’d have to add that to the plans of things to do with Spock in future days. Jim had never been able to convince his first officer to play anything other than 3-D chess with him so he looked forward to this with probably too much glee.

They found the nearest empty observation lounge on the same deck as the officers quarters so they didn’t have far to go. Jim opened up the door, marking the room to be set to private. Spock walked past him and headed straight to the lounge that faced the wide windows.

The view through the plastic aluminum wide panes was gorgeous.

The planet Cromtic was glowing white around the edges where the light of the sun hit the atmosphere. Vivid green covered a lot of the land and small numerous bodies of blue water were scattered everywhere. The planet was large and wide, framed by the black of space and far off stars.

It was a very beautiful planet, made more so because there was hardly any technology floating above it to mar the view, unlike the Earth that was ringed with various kinds of man-made satellites. Cromticians deliberately set out to minimize the impact they had on their natural space and so their planet was lovely.

Jim silently changed the control settings of the lounge to a higher temperature setting. Not as high as the temperature in Spock’s room, but higher than the rest of the ship. This way they would both be comfortable and Jim wouldn’t have to take another shower before heading off to bed.

Spock sat down on the long couch right in front of the windows. He set down his PADD and ‘The Adventures of Tom Sawyer’ right next to him.

Jim watched with interest as Spock was drawn to the book more than he was to his PADD. He was a little bit surprised. Jim thought for certain that Spock would be going through the data that he had collected first but then he reconsidered. After all the story, that book had sentimental value, made it more important though Spock would doubtlessly deny any such thing.

It’s the closest that he can get to his mother, right now. As far as he knows. Jim thought, feeling his stomach tighten uncomfortably at the thought. The memories he has of her reading the story to him are all he has.

Jim sat next to Spock on the couch as he considered him and his slightly hunched shoulders. It was such a slight action that it would not have meant a thing in a human, but in Spock? It was significant. So Jim put the PADD down on a nearby low table.

He could always read those articles later.

“Hey, read to me?” asked Jim, gently.

Spock looked up at Jim. “I would need to start from the beginning in order to progress through the story in the most logical manner.”

“Nah, don‘t bother, you can start off from where you are,” said Jim, with a smile. “I do know the story, you know. You don’t have to backtrack.”

Spock nodded in acceptance.

Jim leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes as Spock’s solemn voice began reading one of Jim’s favorite scenes, where Tom Sawyer manages to convince a bunch of kids that his chore of white-washing fences was the most fun to be had by being a sneaky bastard.
*-*-*-*

Jim had let Spock read him a few chapters before making him stop when the boy’s voice started to become hoarse. More importantly, to Jim‘s peace of mind, Spock no longer had that slump to his shoulders that had so disturbed him. So Jim felt content in letting the boy continue to read the rest of the story in silence.

Jim focused on his PADD. He’d promised Sarek that he would keep him appraised of Spock’s condition. So he wrote him a quick evaluation of Spock’s day. Sarek should get it with the clump of reports that would be sent along the next communications packet to Starfleet Command. Spock’s health was good, and he’d gotten past the return of T’Pring’s memories with minimal fuss. Jim kept the letter short and to the point.

Really, the less that he wrote to Sarek the less he felt like an idiot.

The next letter that Jim wrote was to Pike in respond to one he‘d written. Pike had not written an official letter as a Starfleet admiral questioning one of his subordinates but something far more personal.

Christopher Pike had been Spock’s superior officer for far longer than Jim had even known the admiral. He and Spock kept in touch even though Jim was now the captain of the Enterprise. Therefore Pike had been rather concerned for Spock once the news of what had happened to him had reached his office. He’d written to Jim asking him how Spock was, really. Jim had only seen the letter once he‘d checked his personal messages in the com-unit. Pike had wanted to know more than the brief synopsis about the situation that Jim had sent along to Starfleet Command once it had been clear that he wouldn’t be able to get away without letting them know about Spock’s age change.

Jim’s response to him was a lot lighter in tone than what he'd written to Sarek. He’d even made a note to add an attachment of Spock in the starship footie pajamas. He knew that Pike would get a kick out of it. And the picture would also go a long way towards letting Pike know that Spock was fine. Sure, he was a lot smaller than he used to be but he was in perfect health, getting older all the time and still completely and thoroughly Spock.

It was with a smile that Jim closed the letter down and opened up a new page. This one, he found even easier to begin.

Once, he thought that it was really odd that he had such a connection to the much older alternate Spock. Even with the explanation of how the mind meld had worked - one that he got much later once there was time to actually get things explained - Jim found it very disconcerting at the depth of affection and respect in which the man regarded him. The soft delight that suffused that old wrinkled face whenever they interacted was more intimidating than the stiff-faced challenge he got from the younger Spock - at least before his friendship with him had grown.

One Spock, Jim didn’t want to disappoint and the other he had fun driving up the fucking wall. In a completely Vulcan way, of course. Jim had only gotten Spock to snap that one time and while he didn’t actually want to do it again it was just fun to push him to that edge.

Jim wrote the letter slowly simply calling the man Spock. Jim asked him how he was, how the new Vulcan colony was getting along, how many more buildings had gone up and how he was dealing with a father that was actually younger than him. He admitted that he got a huge kick out of asking this with every letter because he found the idea pretty hilarious.

He wrote about the interesting missions that the Enterprise had gone on since the last time Jim had written to him. It had been about a month, so there was plenty to write about. He told him about the woman with green bat-like wings that had flirted with Bones at their stop at Space Base 23. It had been about the only positive thing to come out of that base because Jim thought it had been hilarious that Bones had kept turning red from whatever she’s been whispering into his ear. Well, that and she had barely topped four and half-feet and had all but carried Bones away over her shoulder. It had taken Jim hours to stop laughing about it.

Jim wrote about his crew. A crew which this Spock had also known because he’d expressed interesting in wanting to learn about them again. Jim glossed over the whole spear incident. He really didn’t want to get another lecture about being careful from Spock. Any version of Spock. He’d already had it twice. Three times would just be pushing it.

Jim wrote to him about how his Spock was now a child and everything that had happened since. It took a while to write all those details. He did get a kick out of gently teasing the old man on how he made a adorable kid.

Jim then got to the real reason as to why he was writing the letter. Jim asked that Spock how he had dealt with being the first human-Vulcan hybrid and how others had treated him for it. He really needed to know or Jim probably wouldn’t be bothering to ask. It was a pretty personal question. Before Spock had been turned into a kid Jim had no idea that his childhood had been difficult. And now that he knew, he wished that he had a way to help the kid deal with it.

Spock - kid version - was quickly approaching that age when the perceptions of society grew ever more important. At least, it was for humans and from what Jim had gleaned from the articles he’d been reading, Vulcan adolescence was similar in that respect. It was just about the only thing that was. There just weren’t that many papers written on human-Vulcan hybrids so Jim told him that he was the only expert around and could use any advice he could give him. Anything that Spock could tell him, any pearl of wisdom, or any insight. He wrapped up the letter by reminding him that they’d be passing by the Vulcan colony in a couple of months. Jim looked forward to seeing him then.

Jim looked up from his PADD to see that Spock was gazing down at Cromtic, a faraway look in his dark eyes.

“A penny for your thoughts?” asked Jim, lightly elbowing the boy.

Spock blinked and looked up at him. Jim smiled at him affectionately.

“My mother has a similar saying,” said Spock, his brow furrowing.

“It‘s a pretty popular one, at least in countries with a strong English influence,” explained Jim.

Spock still looked puzzled. “Yet there is no longer such a currency on Earth.”

Jim gave him a look. “Sayings don’t normally stick to logic and you‘re avoiding the question.”

Spock just blinked once. Then he said slowly, “I was mentally examining memories that have return to my conscious recall.”

“Oh?” asked Jim. “What are they about?”

For the first time ever, Spock didn’t look to Jim’s eyes like he wanted to talk about it. Whatever he had just remembered, Spock didn’t want to share it. And from the flattened line of his mouth, Jim was pretty certain that he wouldn’t be able to talk him into it.

It made him feel odd. And it made Jim realize how quickly he’d gotten used to how easily this version of Spock shared what was going on his head. The adult Spock needed every nugget of personal information pried out of him with tenacity and diamond tipped mining equipment.

It seemed that Spock had finally hit the age where the habit had started because it was clear to Jim that Spock didn’t want to talk about whatever was bothering him. It made Jim wonder at how personal that memory had to be and how full of emotion to cause Spock’s taught Vulcan reticent to snap into place.

“You know,” continued Jim, going on a hunch. “I was just writing a letter to your father.”

Spock’s shoulders tensed but otherwise his expression did not change.

“Why don‘t you write to him too?” suggested Jim. He deliberately opened up the letter he’d written to Sarek. Jim then handed his PADD to Spock. “See? I was telling him how you were. Why don‘t you write a letter to him about the Cromticians and the data that you gathered?”

Spock quietly agreed and picked up his own PADD to write to his father.

He couldn’t make the kid talk to him although he really, really wished that he could.
*-*-*-*

Surprisingly - at least in Jim‘s opinion - their quiet evening remained quiet for the rest of the night. Jim’s niggling worry aside, whatever was weighing on Spock‘s mind didn‘t seem to be violently traumatic. No repeats of the incidents with T‘Pring‘s memories. Jim would have felt better about the whole thing if he had some clue about what was going on in the boy‘s head.

As it is he kept a more vigilant eye on Spock for the rest of the night than he had been doing since the kid passed nine years old. Not that it turned out to be necessary. After writing his letter, Spock had moved on to his data and after a few more hours of enjoying the view of the observation lounge they’d called it a night and headed off to bed.

Jim hadn’t been able to fall asleep right away, partially from straining his ears in the dark room to listen if Spock had any nightmares and partially because he kept thinking about how quickly Spock was growing.

Spock didn’t have any nightmares.

When Jim woke up the next day he was fairly drowsy all through a shower. And even into the breakfast of waffles, plied high with berries and whip cream which failed to give him energy. That made him sulky because he’d wanted the sugar rush. So, he was clutching two thermos mugs of coffee as Spock and he walked off the turbolift and into Main Engineering.

The extra mug was for Scotty. Jim knew his chief engineering and getting him away from the engines when he thought that they needed his personal attention was like expecting Bones to leave a patient that needed medical attention.

Not gonna happen.

So Jim rather thought he’d appreciate the caffeine jolt.

Spock followed at his side as they wandered over to Scotty‘s office since Scotty was more likely to be found around there because that‘s where all his tools were kept. Spock was wearing larger version of the overalls and long sleeved shirt mix that he’d developed a taste for and holding his PADD in his arms while the tricorder hung at his side.

“Hey, Scotty,” called Jim, as he saw the back of his chief engineer as he conversed with one of his engineering officers.

Scotty looked up from a PADD that a stiff ensign was waiting to get back from him.

“Good mornin‘, Captain Kirk. Laddie,” said Scotty, nodding to Jim and Spock.

“Good morning, Mr. Scott,” said Spock, solemnly.

Jim listened with interest as Scotty gave the PADD back to the engineering ensign. “Not bad, lad. Ye only miscalculated the matter/antimatter mix by 0.042 percent.”

The young ensign expression went from stiff to crestfallen before turning pink in embarrassment.

Scotty patted the ensign on the back with vigor enough to make the young man stagger. “Within that margin ye would only ‘ave blown out the nacelles instead of the whole ship!” said Scotty cheerfully. “It could ‘ave been worse at least the warp core would ‘ave stayed intact. Redo the calculations, Ensign Peterson. Remember, with no help from the computer!”

The ensign nodded and went off his way. Jim watched as the slump in his shoulders straightened and new determination quickened the ensign’s pace.

Jim grinned, pleased that his spirit was still up. Jim turned back to Scotty and raised his eyebrows with interest. “You‘re in a good mood.” Normally, Scotty would have yelled at his engineering minion a hellavu lot more for that kind of mistake, even if most people normally didn’t have such a low margin of error when doing those sorts of complicated equations by hand.

“Aye, Captain,” said Scotty, with a beaming smile. “I can not wait to restore the engines and ‘ave our lady back on her feet.”

Scotty’s excitement was infections and Jim bounced in place.

“Is it possible for me to attempt the matter/antimatter matrix equations on my own?” asked Spock, with a head tilt.

“Of course, laddie!” said Scotty, not even a little flicker of doubt in his face that Spock could solve them. “Everyone should learn how. Ye never know when an emergency will knock out the computers.”

Jim agreed with this wholeheartedly, especially out of his engineers whose whole job it was to keep an eye on equipment, like the computers.

Scotty took Spock’s PADD and as he typed he lectured, “The matter/antimatter mix equation varies dependin’ on the engine of the ship. A starship like the Enterprise has higher tolerances for stress from the warp cores ‘cause of the newer materials involved in its construction.”

Spock listened in fascination. Jim watched him in turn.

“Any changes done by the engineerin’ department to the engine can also change the margin of error of the mix of matter to antimatter,” continued Scotty. “The Enterprise has a pretty high tolerance of 0.0324 percent.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. He asked, “Yet the ensign was close to this margin and still produced an equation that jeopardized the ship.”

“That is because it is standard operatin’ Starfleet procedure to calculate to is within a margin of error of 0.0108 percent,” answered Scotty. “This is ‘cause all engineers need to be able to calculate the equations for even the oldest of ships on the fleet. Ye never know where ye are goin‘ to end up in Starfleet.” This made Scotty up from the PADD to look around his engine room with pride in his eyes.

“That is logical,” said Spock, his tone shaded with approval.

Scott finished with the PADD and handed it back to Spock.

Jim bit his lower lip to keep in a chuckle when Spock’s eyes went a little wide around the edges at the level of higher math in his PADD. It didn’t stop Spock though because he was promptly sucked into the equations on the screen, his brow furrowed in such deep concentration that his small slanted eyebrows nearly went horizontal.

Jim finally handed Scotty the extra mug of coffee.

Scotty’s eyes lit up. “Thank ye, Captain!”

“Did you even go to sleep last night?” asked Jim, as Scotty swallowed down the coffee like he needed it to live.

“I can sleep when the Enterprise‘s engines are back on line,” said Scotty.

Jim gave Scotty a scolding look but Scotty ignored it and just drank more of the coffee.

“My engineerin’ team is getting’ the antimatter out of secure storage right now,” continued Scotty. “It should not take them long to get it down ‘ere and cleared for input into the warp reactor. The dilithium crystals ‘ave been double checked for flaws and ‘ave been cleared.”

“And the containment field?” asked Jim, already knowing the answer from Scotty’s report but wanting to double check.

“Also cleared as perfect workin’ order, Captain,” answered Scotty. “I ’ave had my engineers runnin’ tests on all parts of warp engines.”

“And the engineering crew? Have you managed to run them ragged yet?” teased Jim.

“Not yet,” said Scotty, with a wicked grin. “They still ‘ave to finish the simulations for constructin’ a power couplin’ from old parts. And then, the real fun begins. They will ‘ave to see if they can construct a power couplin‘ on the ship from scratch.”

Jim considered how tricky it had been for Scotty to pull off the replacement part. And now he was asking engineering officers without his level of experience and sheer mechanical talent to pull off a miracle. There had to be an incentive here.

“What do you have in the pot?” asked Jim, with interest.

“Two bottles of whiskey and an entire week of shore leave at our next stop at the starbase for the team who comes up with the best solution,” said Scotty.

Jim made appreciative noises and felt a stab of regret that he couldn’t join in the contest. It sounded like a blast to try to win. There were some drawbacks from being the captain. Oh well, there were many more benefits.

“How much time do they have?” asked Jim, absently as an idea began niggling at him.

“They started yesterday and they ‘ave two weeks,” said Scotty. “They‘ll be scored on ingenuity and time involved in construction.”

“Have you thought about opening the contest up to the science officers to join in?” asked Jim. The science officers still had a lot of free time available even with the ones down on Cromtic. And they wouldn’t be down on the planet for much longer.

Spock looked up from his PADD at the mention of his department. He raised an eyebrow at how Jim and Scotty were grinning at each other.

“Scientists do come up with some pretty interestin’ solutions to problems,” admitted Scotty. “And my engineers could use the competition.”

“What do you think Spock?” asked Jim.

Spock tilted his head. “I do believe that the science officers would appreciate the challenge.”

The science officers would love it, Jim mentally translated.

“Though, it may be prudent to make such a contest based on a volunteer basis for them,” continued Spock, “as they also have other duties that have to be completed.”

Jim smiled at this since it was Spock looking after his department in his own way.

Scotty’s right. This is going to be fun! thought Jim. And he wondered if he could convince Scotty that he and Spock would make perfect judges.

TBC in [Part 19]

a/n: Happy!Scotty is almost as much fun as grumpy!Scotty. And Jim sent a letter to old!Spock! \o/