Title: Starstruck

Pairings: onesided Kirk/Spock

Rating: T just to be on the safe side, really its very tame, just Kirk has a bit of a potty mouth.

Warnings: language, Kirk freaking out, etc etc etc

Disclaimer: its not mine. seriously.

Author's Note: It's been so long since I've posted anything on , my first upload in five years actually. This fic was written about two months ago for an anonymous prompter on LJ, (where admittedly I've been haunting these past few years). All fics in this 'verse and any others that I've written is posted there. Collision, its sequel, should be up relatively soon. There are some minute differences in this version of Starstruck than what's posted on my LJ.


:Starstruck:

Honestly, it would have been cute if it weren't so scary. Spock, waking up after the disastrous landing barely 5 years old, had attached himself immediately to Kirk's side like a miniature humanoid fungus.

As soon as McCoy had confirmed what everyone knew already, ("Yes, Jim, it is Spock. Really. No, Jim, I don't know how it happened. Yes, Jim, he'll be back to normal, soon(ish). No, Jim, I can't drug him until he's fixed. I'll drug you if you don't stop bugging me, dammit!") Spock had jumped down from the examination table and to everyone's shock curled his little fingers around Jim's, looking for all the world like it was his right to hold his hand.

To make matters supremely worse, McCoy refused to lock the kid in sickbay after the "pointy-eared little devil" escaped the third time. ("For god's sake, man! I'm a doctor, not a nanny and - Dammit, Jim, he won't bite you so stop looking at me like I've grown a second head! He's your First Officer, it wouldn't kill you to show some responsibility!")

The kid followed him everywhere like a mini-Vulcan shadow, little legs working hard to keep up with Kirk's long strides. Not that he was trying to run away, James T. Kirk - scratch that, Captain James T. Kirk, runs from no one.

But it was eerie how the kid knew exactly where he was all the time. Kirk had really thought he'd gotten rid of the little guy that one time, giving him the slip in the engine room while the kid was "hm" and "ahh"ing over all the fascinating thingamabobs and beeping what'samacallits.

Ten minutes later Kirk entered the turbo lift (having taken many detours and fake outs to throw the kid off his trail, just in case he was being trailed) and Spock was there! Waiting for him, little hand held out expectantly and mouth fixed in a disapproving line.

When Kirk just stared, dumbfounded, Spock reached out and gripped his fingers, squeezing them tightly and looking up at Kirk as if to say I'd appreciate it if you didn't leave me behind, mmkay?

They didn't talk much. Spock was naturally a quiet kid, for which Jim was grateful. It wasn't like he knew how to talk to a kid of his own species, let alone to a freaky Vulcan-child-thing that kept following him around like a puppy dog.

I probably wouldn't mind so much if it weren't for the staring. Kirk mused leaning back in his chair on the bridge. He was acutely aware that his crew was just as uncomfortable with the sight of a child Spock perched gracefully on his knee as he was.

Damn Uhura. ("Captian, I doubt Spock would be very comfortable if I were to look after him. He's already admonished me twice already about "being too familiar" with him.")

Damn McCoy. ("Jim, if you come back here one more time….")

Damn Sulu and Chekov both. You think I can't hear what you're thinking about me, ladies!

Kirk jiggled his leg impatiently, bouncing Spock up and down absently, one hand curled around the kid's back (not that he cared if he fell or anything). The kid curled his fingers in Kirk's shirt, eyes going wide at the motion. Kirk stilled his leg with some difficulty. Guess Vulcans don't…bounce? He drummed his fingers against the comm instead.

He ignored Spock's wide eyed look of devotion for the next few hours, making no comment when Spock blushed a light green whenever Kirk shifted his legs or tightened his arms.

After a while Spock drifted to sleep, dipping his nose into the crook of Kirk's neck, and curling in his lap like a kitten. Kirk felt the kid's dead weight slowly killing the circulation in his leg and ignored that too.


Spock woke when Kirk was depositing him on his designated cot in med bay, groggy as anything and cranky as hell.

"Doctor McCoy, that is inappropriate behavior. You will step away from the Captain immediately."

McCoy looked flabbergasted, glancing at the hand on his captain's shoulder, before throwing an incredulous look to Kirk. Kirk stubbornly glared at the floor.

"You will remove that appendage from the captain's person or I shall do it for you."

"Listen, Spock, I just need to have a word with Jim in private-"

"The captain has no use for your flirtatious blather, and neither do I." Spock threw his legs over the edge of the bed, silently threatening to jump off if McCoy didn't step back quick.

"Your familiarity with the Captain is inappropriate for an officer of your station. You will address the Captain, as Captain and maintain a distance of five feet before you begin conversation."

McCoy pursed his lips stubbornly. "Now listen here, Spock," Kirk wondered if Bones wanted to laugh as hysterically as he did when he said it. "Jim's been my best friend for years, so I think I'm qualified to call him Jim if I damn well want to."

He gripped Kirk's arm spitefully. "Further more, I'll touch him when I feel like it." So nya-nah.

Spock looked madder than a spitting kitten, cheeks puffed out and brilliant brown eyes ablaze. Kirk didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So he did what he did best.

"Well, gentlemen!" he started loudly, removing Bones' hand from his arm. "I'm really, very tired. So I'm gonna book it."

"Jim you can't leave! I still have to -"

"I'm sure that's very interesting Bones, but I think we can talk about it tomorrow right?" pleasepleaseplease I'm gonna loose it, I swear I will!

Bones glared but said nothing. Kirk turned his blinding smile to Spock who blinked and blushed simultaneously. "And you! Have a good sleep, get better in the morning!" Please, Please get better in the morning. He ruffled Spock's crop of hair and tweaked a twitching ear (because when am I ever gonna have the chance, really?) before making a break for it.


Kirk wasn't prepared, hours later, for Spock to come to his room. Though, honestly, he shouldn't have been surprised.

He heard Spock's little feet creeping closer and felt the dip as the little body climbed in his bed. He kept his eyes closed, praying that the kid would leave when he realized Kirk was asleep. He gave an obscene snore for good measure. Spock stilled for a second before he placed a hand to the curve of Kirk's back. He stayed there motionless, just allowing his hand to follow the rise and fall of Kirk's deep breathing passively.

Well, okay. Kirk snuggled deeper into his pillow, dozing. As long as he doesn't -HOLY CRAP! Kirk jack knifed out of the bed.

"No, no, not okay!" He pointed at Spock. "I am not okay for that kind of touching! Jesus, kid, what's the matter with you!"

Spock's eyes were wide.

"We don't -" Kirk breathed in. "We don't do this. You're not supposed to be nice to me, and stare at me or hold my hand! You're supposed to raise you eyebrow like the bastard you are and be all, "Captain, that is illogical" this and "Captain, you're a dipshit" that! Do you understand?"

Spock nodded, though Kirk had the sneaking impression that he didn't get it at all.

"Okay." Kirk was calming. "Okay. So, um. I'm gonna get back in bed. And you're gonna go back to med bay and we're gonna sleep. In the morning you'll be back to normal and we'll never talk about this again, okay?"

Spock nodded again.

"Good." Kirk felt kinda bad now, the kid's hands were shaking as he plucked at the sheets. "Okay, I guess I'll go first."

Spock moved back from him quickly as Kirk slipped back into bed. Kirk squashed his disappointment and turned away from those wet brown eyes.

I'll go to sleep and wake up and this will all be a bad dream.

Spock sniffled.

Or maybe not. Now Kirk really felt like an ass.

He opened his eyes and the boy was still on the bed, not quite crying but almost there, shoulders shaking and looking miserable. The only reason Kirk reached out to gather the boy to his chest was because the sight of Spock crying would be too much for his brain to handle. Not because I actually cared or anything.

The kid buried his nose into Kirk's neck, fingers searching for his hand. Kirk curled his hand around Spock's small one with a sigh. It didn't take long for Spock gain control of his misery, curling around their clasped hands. The kid nuzzled into Kirk's neck and breathed deep.

Is he smelling me?

"Are you smelling me?"

Spock mumbled something nonsensical, already drifting to sleep. Kirk shifted uncomfortably, sniffing at his shirt.

Do I stink?

to be continued in Collision


Original Prompt: "I want to see a story where Spock is turned into a kid, and due to some starnge, extra-extrodinary Vulcan sense of smell, he comes to the conclusion that because Kirk has his (Spock's)scent all over him, Kirk must be his. Possesiveness and kiddy-crushing ensues. Bonus: If Kirk freaks out over the whole ordeal."