Fic: As Morning Shows the Day, [part 19]

[jade_dragoness]

Title: As Morning Shows the Day [Part 19]
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: 5,105 for this part [total so far: 102,890]
Disclaimer: Never ever will be mine. *sadness*
A/N: Thank you so much for the feedback in the last part. =D
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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AO3 Link: here
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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], [Part Eighteen]

Scotty was distracted by the arrival of the team of engineers with the antimatter container and left Jim and Spock so that he could supervise.

“Hey, Spock,” said Jim, tapping Spock‘s slender shoulder. “You should see this.”

Spock looked up from his PADD and watched the entire process with interest.

Jim watched him instead since he’d already seen Scotty set up the antimatter/matter reaction before. The extra antimatter had been the only thing that allowed the Enterprise to limp home after using the warp core to escape the black hole that had swallowed the Narada and he‘d insisted on being there when Scotty had fired up the engines.

Scotty was going to be separating a certain amount of antimatter, a tricky process involved using the magnetic shields to control how much was pulled out of the storage container. If any antimatter came in contact with matter there would be an instant explosion. And considering that there was a lot more antimatter within the blast radius then there would be a bigger explosion which would reduce the ship to scattered atoms.

There was a reason that there weren’t that many people who were certified to handle antimatter. In the Enterprise there were five. One was Scotty, another was Spock, and the other three were members of Scotty’s engineering crew who had gotten the antimatter out of storage in the first place.

The blue glow of the shields brightened Main Engineering perceptively and Spock leaned closer.

Spock was so absorbed in what he was watching that a lot of the mask he wore to hide his emotions slipped. The fascination Jim could see warmed his chest with a glow of delight. He never failed to get a kick out that subtle expression on Spock’s face.

It made him realize all over again how utterly perfect Spock’s chosen career was for him. Being an Starfleet officer challenged so much of Spock’s intelligence and gave plenty of tasks that kept him busy. Jim couldn’t image Spock being anything else, anywhere else. Not anymore.

Hell, even in another universe, Spock had ended up in Starfleet.

“Captain! Brin’ the laddie in for a closer look!” called Scotty, where he was practically buried in the inner workings of the engines.

Spock barely waited for Jim as he eagerly moved closer. He stopped just out of the way of the engineers that were moving around the warp core.

Scotty was surrounded by pipes that brought in coolant, and sent out power. He was right before a small opening that glowed with the same blue of the containment shielding. The core of the engine arched high above him.

It was depressingly dark, in Jim’s opinion.

“Regular matter, the fuel which is goin’ to react to the antimatter, is already in the warp core,” explained Scotty, to Spock though the engineering officers also were attentive to his words. Considering that they knew it well enough to give their own lectures, Jim was very amused and pleased at the level of respect that was accorded to Scotty.

“That also ‘as to be carefully calculated. Too little and the antimatter does not have enough regular matter to react against,” continued Scotty.

Spock looked back at the equations on his PADD. “Oh, I believe that I understand,” he said thoughtfully. “Because the containment shields control the antimatter the amount of output energy directly correlates with the amount of regular matter that goes into the engine core.”

Scotty gave him a big grin. “Ye got it, laddie! That is were a lot of people miscalculate. They are so concerned with the antimatter since it‘s so bloody dangerous that they are not so careful with the regular fuel. But that can be just as dangerous. Too little matter will drop the ship out of warp without warnin‘. The stress to the ship can be severe causing micro-fractures through the infrastructure.”

Spock nodded and made a note in his PADD.

Scotty called out to his engineers. They moved the antimatter container away so that Scotty would be able to exit without trouble. Then Scotty vanished further into the core. Jim suppressed a wince at the loud banging sounds from inside the warp engine.

“Jim,” asked Spock, hesitantly, “could you explain how to find the answer to this equation?”

Jim looked over his shoulder and joined Spock in staring at the equations. He quietly murmured the explanations to the formulas for calculating the rate of energy release by the matter/antimatter mix and therefore how much the Enterprise would need to power the warp engines.

Spock listened intently and nodded his understanding when Jim finished talking.

Once he had the formulas to follow, Spock was capable of rapid mental calculations and began writing out the solutions where he’d previously been stuck. He just needed to learn that math in order to find out the right answer. Jim was impressed all over again at how well Spock could run complex math equations in his head. Age certainly wasn’t a factor in that skill, since he pulled it off as an adult as well at his current age of eleven.

“And here we go!” shouted Scotty happily, as he walked out of the engine and he smacked the empty antimatter container. His engineering officers had scattered to intently watch screens that were monitoring the engines.

“Antimatter is mixing in at the standard rate,” said an engineer.

“Warp core temperature is steadily rising,” said another. “With an estimated time to complete the warp core mix is 1.13 hours.”

“And the power coupling?” called Scotty, as he carefully began manipulating the computer that was directly hooked up to the warp-core controls. The chamber that held the dilithum crystals began faintly glowing white.

“Holding steady, sir,” said an ensign who was standing closest to Jim and Spock.

Spock walked closer until he was able to read the nearest monitoring screen, though he had to try to look past the body of an engineer. At least, until Jim gave the woman a firm tap on the shoulder. Surprised, then understanding she stood aside enough so that Spock could see everything clearly while still allowing her to do her job.

“Thank you, Ensign,” said Spock, calmly.

“You‘re welcome, Commander Spock,” she said, clearly torn between the need to keep an eye on the screen and wanting to watch Spock. She caught Jim’s grin and turned back to the screen with straightened shoulders.

Jim stifled a laugh, amused that Spock’s appeal as a kid among the crew still wasn’t wearing off.

“Mr. Scott, the indicated stress tolerances of the ship are not 0.0324 percent as you indicated,” said Spock, with a head tilt. “According to the readings of the monitor the stress tolerance is 0.0129.”

“Noticed that, did ye?’ asked Scotty, looking back to Spock. “That‘s ‘cause of the temporary replacement power couplin‘ we had to scourge up. We had to use the old part that had been in storage as a base. And even as much as we ’ave fixed it, it can not take as much as a new part would ‘ave. The tolerances had to be dropped even lower than usual so the energy that travels through the power couplin’ does not tear it apart.”

“It will affect the speed of the ship significantly,” noted Spock, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Aye, laddie,” said Scotty. He tossed Jim a smirk, “The captain will have to rein in his speed demon ways and keep ‘er at warp factor 2.”

“Speed demon?” Jim asked, with a heated glare at Scotty.

“Ye‘re always callin’ for more speed and makin’ me push the poor engines,” Scotty pointed out with humor in his voice. His engineers nodded and murmured their agreement.

Jim glared at them too but they just grinned unrepentantly at their captain.

“No, I don’t,” Jim denied, then he thought about it. I’ve only done that… three… no.. four… Okay, so maybe Scotty has a point. It wasn’t good that he couldn’t remember how often he had Scotty pushed the engines when he had only been the captain for six months.

“I had perfectly logical reasons for it,” continued Jim, in response to the Spock’s small raised eyebrow.

“Aye, Captain,” agreed Scotty with a laugh, “but only ‘cause ye‘re chasin‘ somethin‘ or havin‘ some beastie chase us.”

Which, Jim had to admit to himself, pretty much described about 80% of all of the Enterprise’s missions. Higher, if he wanted to add to the whole being chased or chasing theme for the times that they were on a planet and on foot. Hell, the Cromtician mission had been the first that he could remember where they hadn’t ended up in some kind of trouble in too long. Jim considered Spock’s small stature, at least not the sort that was really dangerous, he mentally amended.

“I will attempt to keep my impulses under control,” said Jim, dryly.

Scotty laughed, walked up to Jim and clapped him on the back. Jim barely kept from staggering.

“Do not hurt yerself, Captain,” said Scotty.

Jim snorted and complained in a mock-injured voice. “I can still have you replaced with Keenser.”

Scotty laughed again. “The Enterprise‘s engines will finish powerin‘ up soon.”

Jim nodded, he could already feel the hum of the engines beginning to grow louder. Soon the vibration of them would spread beyond Main Engineering and to all parts of the ship. He hadn’t realized how much he’d internalized the feel of them until they’d been gone. Their restoration was a like a salve on a wound. Jim felt better just knowing that his ship would soon be back - if not to normal - at least close to approaching it.

“We will be keepin‘ an eye on all parts of the engines,” continued Scotty. “At least until we get to that starbase for a new power couplin‘.”

“Only one more day after this one, Scotty,” said Jim. “I‘ve already given orders for the course to be plotted to the nearest base as well as had Communications call ahead to be sure that there is a replacement for us. And not a shoddy piece of crap.”

Scotty grinned at that.

“Mr. Scott,” Spock interjected, quietly. “I have completed the equations.”

Scotty took his PADD and looked over it slowly. The wide smile that spread across his face made Jim feel smug.

“Now, this is how we calculate the antimatter and matter mixture! Ye calculated to within 0.0034 percent,” said Scotty. “ How do ye feel about givin‘ my lads some lessons in advanced thermo-reactive mathematics?”

“I would have to decline, Mr. Scott,” said Spock, stiffly. He was clearly caught off-guard by the question. “I was only able to resolve the equations due to Jim‘s explanation of the formulas.”

Scotty’s eyebrows went up and he looked at Jim who just gave him an innocent smile. So, he wasn’t blatant with all his skills, sue him. He liked surprising people.

“Better wait until Spock‘s back to his regular age, and ask him then,” said Jim, with a grin. “Assuming he‘ll have enough time.”

Scotty sighed in disappointment. Jim knew he was thinking about how very busy Spock was as the first officer and the science officer. The chances of Spock finding any free time, away from his usual duties and his captain wrangling were pretty low.

Jim patted him on the back. He said, “Thanks for the invite to see the ship getting back on her feet.” He had to admit to himself that while the motivation to come down here had been for Spock to see the engines, he was pretty happy to have been here to see them power up. He was just relieved that the Enterprise wasn’t crippled only to impulse power anymore, everything else about her engines he knew was in good hands with Scotty.

“Ye‘re welcome, Captain,” said Scotty.

“By the way, Scotty,” Jim said quietly. “I have something I wanted to ask you.”

He lead Scotty away from Spock until they were out of earshot. He saw Spock looking after him with interest before the engineer ensign did something to her monitor that drew his attention back to the screen.

“It’s about your tribble,” began Jim.

“Aye, what about the critter? It has not gone and multiplied has it?” asked Scotty, with wide alarmed eyes.

“No,” Jim said, shaking his head. “Spock‘s been careful about how he‘s caring it. I was just wondering where you‘d picked it up. And whether you‘d let me get you a replacement.”

“The laddie has gone and become attached, has he?” asked Scotty, with a grin. “Nae, Captain. Ye do not ‘ave to worry about it. I thought the lad would like the tribble. He can keep it.”

“Thanks, Scotty,” said Jim, grinning hard. “He‘s been carrying it nearly everywhere but you know Spock. He would never admit he likes it, after all, ‘become sentimentally attached is a most illogical human trait‘.” He barely managed to keep from adding air quotes.

Scotty chucked, “Aye, that is Mr. Spock, alright. Anyhow, I bought it off some merchant trader named Jones before they became so well known but since then tribbles ‘ave become popular pets so I should not ‘ave trouble findin’ one again.”

“Alright, Scotty,” said Jim. “Though, I kind of hate to steal your pet away like that.”

“I bought the critter for company,” said Scotty, lowering his voice, “and don‘t tell the lad, but I had also been usin’ it for my transwarp beamin’ experiments before I got exiled for that misfortunate misunderstandin‘ with Archer‘s dog.”

Jim arched his eyebrows.

“Tribbles are surprisin‘ tough,” said Scotty, in explanation.

“I won‘t tell, Spock,” said Jim, with a laugh. He then asked Scotty about the idea of having Spock and him help in judging the competition. “Though, there‘s a pretty good chance that Spock will be all grown up by then.”

“Havin’ Mr. Spock helpin’ to judge which of their solutions would work the best will make it go faster, even more so if the commander is back to normal,” said Scotty. “Now, Captain, I want to personally go to the nacelle and check to see how it is handlin’ the energy flow. I will feel better if I saw how the power couplin‘ for myself.”

“Alright, and Scotty,” said Jim, as Scotty walking away. “You and your guys did great work with this. Remind me to buy you and your engineers all a few rounds at the starbase when all the work is done.”

Scotty turned back to grin at him over his shoulder, “Ye bet I will, Captain!”

Jim walked back to Spock and instead of finding the boy wrapped up in the technical details of the generated data on the engines was instead staring after Scotty. There was an almost frown tugging down the corners of his mouth.

“What did you wish to ask, Mr. Scott?” asked Spock, at once as soon as Jim was back at hide. There was a surprising large amount of demand in the kid’s voice.

Jim shot him a startled glance. “Well…” he said slowly, trying to figure out what had trigged that look in Spock’s eyes. “I wanted to ask him if I could compensate him for the tribble.”

Spock tilted his head. “I do not understand.”

“You‘ve gotten pretty attached to the furball,” Jim explained, trying not to squirm. He hadn’t intended to let Spock find out he’d been trying to get the tribble for him but since the kid looked like he really wanted to know… “And since it‘s pretty attached to you too, I wanted to ask Scotty if he‘d be willing to give it up.”

Spock just stared up at him. His brown eyes were wide. Wider than Jim had seen in a while from the kid.

“I told him I‘d get him a replacement,” Jim said as he rubbed the back of his neck and fought back a blush. The mute astonishment on Spock’s face made him mentally pat himself in the back. “Scotty said you could have it,” he continued. “So, you don‘t have to worry about having to give it back to him.”

“Vulcans do not worry,” said Spock, a reaction that was practically automatic. It was that reflexive.

Jim bit his lower lip to fight back grin.

“I see,” said Spock. The corners of his lips began turning up more and his eyes began doing that pleased gleaming thing again.

Jim couldn’t resist the smile now.

“What did you think I was asking?” he asked, curious about Spock’s initial reaction.

The kid straightened up. “It is no longer of consequence,” he said calmly. He nodded his thanks to the ensign who was subtly looking at them from the corners of her eyes.

Bemused, Jim shook his head then asked, “Where would you like to go next?”

“The Science Department. Were you not going to request their input into the contest with Engineering?” Spock reminded him.

“Yeah, okay. That sounds good,” said Jim, and as they entered the turbolift that would take them to the right level it struck him what Spock’s reaction had been about.

The kid had been jealous.

Jealous of Scotty, of all people. Scotty who hadn’t been doing anything other than talking to him.

As Jim stared at the double door of the turbolift, he realized that he had no idea how to feel about it. Other than the urge to run to Bones to ask for his help because apparently the kid’s crush on him was getting worse. He could just hear Bones in his ear telling him that Spock’s attachment to him wasn’t an ailment that he could cure with a hypospray.

And now, he wondered why Spock hadn’t been reacting against Bones. Jim spent far more time at Bones’ side than he did in talking with Scotty.

Maybe, it’s a matter of timing? Or maybe it‘s a side-effect of Spock‘s current age? Or maybe because Spock knew that Bones was his best friend he didn’t think of Bones as someone to get jealous over. Jim bit back a groan and made mental note to find Bones during his lunch break and ask for his advice.

They existed the doors of the turbolift and into the level of the Science Department.

“You know, they‘ll like it more if you asked them if they wanted to join the contest,” Jim pointed out.

“Very well,” said Spock, his face smoothing into a more controlled expression.
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One of the great things about the science officers - in Jim’s opinion - was that he could trust them to keep an eye on Spock as well as finding things to entertain the kid without having to worry that something would explode in his face.

Well, if anything exploded at least it would be a small explosion.

So, Jim had no compunction about kicking Lieutenant Hernandez out of his office, which technically Spock’s office except he’d given it to his second in command of the science officers for his own use. Spock had pointed out that he had no need for two offices as he also had one as the first officer as well as the science officer and keeping them both would be most illogical.

Hernandez had taken the commandeering with good grace. It helped that he’d also been thoroughly distracted by Spock’s explanation of the contest that Engineering was running. He’d asked Jim for an explanation of the specifics and once he had his answers Hernandez spread the information throughout the Science Department.

Spock had gone along with him with Jim’s encouragement.

In the office, Jim just used the available com-unit to access his personal account to send a message to Bones asking him if he’d meet him for lunch before he opened his professional account to begin reading the reports generated while he’d been sleeping. Frankly, he had been a little surprised that his yeoman hadn’t tracked him down to get them signed off before he remembered that task he’d given Rand the night before.

Well, at least Rand would have less reason to scowl at him if he got everything done. Jim tried not to feel like his yeoman had finally won in getting him trained into doing his paperwork. His dread of Rand was completely justified.

He lingering the most over Keenser’s update on the planet Cromtic. The lieutenant had finished gathering and copying the last of the schematics and was already in the process of beginning to produce all the components that they would need to complete the aging machine. He added that he noticed that the new shift of science officers had taken to their tasks with fierce determination.

Reading that had made Jim smile.

The computer beeped to indicate the arrival of a new message into his account.

Jim frowned when he saw that it was from Rand before he opened it up.

“Aw,” he said in understanding. It was her response to Starfleet Intelligence’s request for more information. He read it carefully.

He only got half-way when he realized that he was grinding his teeth and even his short nails were digging furrows into his palms.

He forced himself to finish and as soon as he was done, Jim sat back in the chair and swore. He went through every single curse he knew. And even after he ran through the really gruesome Klingon ones - twice! - he didn’t feel any better.

It seemed that a few of his crew had ended up being attacked when they were at Space Base 23. The targets had been the younger women of his crew. They’d been rescued by security officers, led by Cupcake, purely by chance. Rand wrote that the security of the base hadn’t been much help though they thought the men were linked to Orion slavers. They had no evidence that it wasn’t just drunken pawing that got out of hand.

Rand thought the attackers had deliberately been set out by the commander of Space Base 23. She pointed out that the connection of the Orion slave trade to the Orion contraband. But that there was no proof of that connection.

Jim, unable to stand the idea that he hadn’t known about this called Rand up.

It took a moment for her to answer.

“Why didn‘t I know about this?” Jim demanded, once her face was on the screen.

Rand just arched a blonde eyebrow.

“The attack on my crew!” he clarified, resisting the urge to yell.

“All reports of the attacks were filed with the Starfleet Security of the space base,” she said quietly. “And then with the Personnel Officer and First Officer.”

“Spock knew about this?” asked Jim.

Rand nodded. “I believe that he considered the matter settled.”

“And so he didn‘t tell me,” grumbled Jim, annoyed. He wished, not for the first time, that Spock was back to his usual but this time so that he could yell at him.

“I think he thought that you would order us to fire on the Space Base 23 if you knew what had happened,” Rand said, wryly.

Jim wasn’t going to disagree with that. He probably would have done exactly that. Once he’d given everyone on it sufficient time to get off of it, of course.

Hell, he kind of wanted to go back and do exactly that even now.

That the slimeball of a base commander had posed such a threat to his crew, that he tried to grab some of them to sell them into slavery, it was more than Jim could stand.

He’d wanted to beat the crap out of the guy before, but now he just wanted to kill him.

Which is probably the reason that Spock didn’t tell me, Jim realized with a flash of irritation. His reaction wouldn’t have been pretty, even if Spock had kept him from committing homicide.

“There was no proof,” continued Rand, with a scowl. “But I thought that Starfleet Intelligence could use the information that there maybe a stronger link between Base Commander Fox and Orion slavers. Anyway, sir. The man has connections in the Federation government and we couldn‘t bring him up on charges just because we had a feeling that he was involved in the assaults.”

“What kind of connections?” frowned Jim.

“He‘s uncle is Ambassador Robert Fox,” said Rand.

“I didn‘t know that,” said Jim, with a frown. He knew of the ambassador. “Fox is a common last name.”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Spock had me look up any relevant information after I told him of my suspicions,” said Rand.

“God damn it,” complained Jim. There was one more reason why Spock hadn’t told him.

Jim sighed. His first officer was usually better about figuring out the diplomatic nuances of any given situation than he was, that was for certain. Political savvy just wasn’t one of those skills that was taught in the Academy so he was still figuring it out. Jim had good instincts when dealing with non-Federation cultures. But trying to be political with his own people? Jim missed things. Fortunately for him, Spock was helping him learn how to finagle that nonsense, slowly but surely he was getting there.

Anyway, if he knew Spock at all, his first officer had probably been waiting to tell him until a time where Jim wouldn't react like a hothead.

“Okay,” sighed Jim. “Thank you for filling in the request, Yeoman.”

“Anything to help get that creep in prison,” she said.

Jim nodded his goodbye but before Rand signed off she told him that the next batch of reports will be ready for his perusal in a couple of hours since he had nearly finished the morning ones.

Jim glowered at her professionally cool expression with its hint of smugness and stabbed at the control to cut the intership video connection.

Even with Rand’s explanation of the events Jim found himself tightening his hands into fists, loosening and then retightening them even as he tried to finish reading the rest of the reports so he gave up on them.

He couldn’t relax. He was just too pissed off.

Jim wanted to beat the crap out of something and unfortunately the target of his anger was light years away. He could feel the tension settle into his shoulders, the sort that he knew from experience he couldn’t just ignore and hope it went away. He had to work it out of his system.

I, he decided, am going to the gym.
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It took him a moment to find Spock in the science labs.

The science officers, in their excitement of participating in a contest with Engineering had began making plans and putting together teams of divergent science disciplines. They’d also thoroughly managed to get Spock involved in figuring out how they would proceed.

And that’s where Jim found him with his small head bent over various PADDS and quietly listening to his officers discuss what sort of materials were possible to replicate and which ones were not, as well as the sort of tools available on the Enterprise.

“You did remind them that this is all suppose to be a simulation?” asked Jim, as he sat by Spock’s side. “They don’t actually have to make a power coupling for the nacelles in two weeks.”

Spock looked up, and explained, “It would be illogical to proceed without knowing the limitations of what the Enterprise is capable of producing. Only when this baseline is established can they set forth to push those boundaries and produce an estimation as to what would be needed to manufacture a functioning power coupling.”

“Logical,” said Jim, with a quirk of his lips. Then he rubs the back of his head. “Listen, Spock. I‘m going to go to the gym for some exercise. You can stick around here if you want.”

Spock tilted his head in consideration but then pulled his PADD from the pile. “That will not be necessary.”

“You‘ll probably be bored,” Jim warned him, as they walked towards the turbolift that would take them to the level with their quarters. Jim wanted to change into his workout clothes.

“I will not be. The science officers have requested that I participate in their contest and have given me information on the structure of the ship for me to study,” said Spock.

“Are you going to?” asked Jim.

“My memories of more advanced science has not fully returned,” answered Spock, calmly. “I would not be able to contribute in any significant way.”

“It doesn‘t mean you shouldn‘t if you really want to,” said Jim, encouragingly.

“I considered it,” said Spock, softly. “Yet once my memories are restored it would give whatever team I joined an unfair advantage. Mr. Scott is not involving himself as a participant.”

Jim felt a burst of pride in his chest. He was impressed and delighted at Spock’s very well reasoned sense of fair play. He was right after all. Spock - any version of Spock - would give the teams an extra edge.

“We could be judges,” said Jim. “Scotty liked the idea. And you can still do that even if you're back to your normal age by then.”

Spock considered it thoughtfully. “It would be a good alternative.”

Jim led them out of the turbolift and back to his quarters where he found dug out the usual clothes he wore when working out, sweat pants and a worn shirt. And because he didn’t want Bones cussing him out for popping his knuckles out, Jim also found his bag gloves. He preferred the lighter sparring gloves, but considering that he wasn’t actually going to risk fighting someone when he was in this sort of mood, he’d rather just beat the hell out of bag without having to end up back in medical bay.

He had been spending entirely too much time there.

It took him a moment to change clothes and when he came out he found Spock in front of the bookcase again.

He wasn’t looking at the books this time, but at Jim’s collection of personal memorabilia. Spock looked up at Jim’s approach.

“I do not understand the relevancy of most of these objects,” said Spock. “Nor does there appear to be any logical order to their locations.”

“That‘s because I didn‘t pick them for any reason other than personal reminders,” said Jim.

Spock stiffened. “My apologies, I did not intent-”

“No, Spock,” Jim cut him off, “don‘t apologize. You can ask. If I don‘t want to talk about it I‘ll tell you.”

Spock’s expression was solemn but he nodded slowly in acceptance.

“Do you want to get anything from your room?” asked Jim, but Spock just declined.

“Okay,” said Jim, and led them to the turbolift again.

TBC in [Part 20]

a/n: Oh Jim, so protective of his crew. *pats him* And his fear of Spock’s crush is still hilarious to me. Heh.