Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, and I do not make any money from these fictions.
Summary: When Ambassador Spock comes aboard the Enterprise, First Officer Spock gets suspicious as to the nature of his elder counterpart's relationship with Captain Kirk. As far as he is concerned, the captain is his…Slash, of course.
"ETA for New Vulcan, Chekov?" Jim asked the Russian.
"Three hours, Keptin," the ensign replied.
"Thank you, ensign," Jim responded, rising from the chair. "You have the conn, Mr. Spock."
His first officer nodded, and Jim headed towards his quarters for a little nap before their arrival.
He had a shit load of stuff to deal with once the ambassador came aboard…
"Ambassador," Jim greeted with a bright smile. "Long time, no see."
"Far too long, Captain," Ambassador Spock replied with a twitch of his lips. "Last time we spoke of a potential development. Perhaps we should meet later to discuss your progress."
"We can discuss it in my quarters later...Over chess, perhaps?" Jim responded.
Jim's first officer frowned.
"Captain, perhaps we should let the ambassador settle into his rooms," he interjected.
"Commander," the ambassador acknowledged. "I do not feel that I will be using my rooms much."
The first officer nodded. That was logical, as Vulcans did not need as much sleep as humans.
So why was the captain chuckling and looking at the ambassador so strangely? The captain was fluttering those dark blonde eyelashes, gazing up at his alternate self with those bright blue eyes.
"Vulcans do not need as much sleep as humans," the first officer said to his captain, just to break the heavy silence.
"Oh, I know exactly how much sleep the ambassador needs. Don't worry, Commander," the captain replied, his lips quirking in a mischievous grin.
Spock frowned. Now the captain was calling him Commander? He usually hated the familiarity, but now he wanted his captain to use his name.
"We shall talk later, Commander," the ambassador bid before reaching out a hand to tug on the captain's hand. Their fingers rubbed together.
The first officer's eyes were drawn to that contact. The ambassador should not be taking such liberties with the captain. Spock was sure that his commanding officer did not realize just what that contact meant.
"I'm going to...entertain the Ambassador, as is my diplomatic responsibility as Captain," Jim told his first officer. "Take care of her for me, Spock."
And Spock watched as his captain and his alternate future self walked down the hallway, their strides matched perfectly and their bodies so close together that their shoulders and hips brushed.
And he realized that they were heading towards the captain's quarters - the ambassador's room was in the opposite direction.
As the first officer, Spock was going to get to the bottom of this. After all, it was his duty to protect his captain.
Even from himself.
Or his future self.
"Ambassador," Jim said as he opened the door to his rooms. "Please come in"
"Of course, Captain," the elder Spock responded.
"I think...I think you gave me some memories you didn't mean to," Jim admitted once they settled. "I...I've been having...dreams and flashbacks and all sorts of cluttered memories that aren't mine flashing through my head."
"I am sorry for any inconvenience," the ambassador apologized, while looking at him as if he is the answer to every single one of the universe's problems.
"You should be. I haven't had this many wet dreams since I was 13 and lost my virginity to the girl next door," Jim joked.
"Ah...so it is those memories, then? I was afraid that they were the ones most likely to spill over," the Vulcan commented.
Their eyes locked, blue meeting dark brown, and Jim just snapped.
The next second, he was engaged in the hottest, wettest, best kiss of his fucking life with the elder, alternate version of his stick-up-the-ass first officer and good friend.
"I need you," Jim moaned. "Fuck, do I need you. Spock doesn't want me, and I have all these memories, and I'm fucking jealous of my other self because it's the fucking hottest sex that I haven't had. And I've had a lot of sex."
"I know," the Ambassador growled, manhandling him through the doorway and into the bedroom.
The next morning...
Captain James T. Kirk bounced...literally bounced...onto the bridge for Alpha shift.
"Captain," Spock acknowledged. "Who won the chess game last night?"
"Chess?" Jim asked, bewildered.
Then his eyes opened really wide.
And he giggled.
"Um...the chess game was great. Just...great. The Ambassador won, but I had fun. Lots and lots and lots of fun..." Jim babbled as he bounced over to his chair.
"It looks like you had a lot of fun, Captain," Sulu muttered, dark eyes glued to the hickey on his captain's neck that was revealed every time Kirk shifted.
"The ambassador is very talented...at chess," Jim told Sulu, a happy grin pasted on his face.
Uhura, Sulu, and even Chekov laughed, but Spock just stood there, uncomprehending.
"Vulcans are logical beings. Logic assists in such a game as chess, where strategy is critical," Spock informed them.
Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov looked at him disbelievingly, but Spock only had eyes for his captain.
His captain, who was smiling and laughing and bouncing and in a very good mood.
Was his counterpart that good of company? Jim was never that happy after a game of chess with him...
Spock managed to stop himself from scowling as he returned to his work.
As Doctor McCoy would say - he really needed to get to the bottom of this...
A few hours later…
"Goddamit Jim, I'm a doctor, but not Dr. Ruth!" Bones shouted.
"Shut up!" the captain hissed. "Believe me, there are absolutely no problems in the sex department. The sex is fantastic. He has years of experience with my body and an intimate link with my mind to ensure that. And that's the problem."
"It is a problem that the sex is fantastic?" Bones asked dryly.
"It's a problem that he was with me - another me - in an alternate universe. It's a problem that he knows every nuance of my mind and body, and I know so little about him. It's a problem that I'm in a sexual, emotional relationship with Spock - one that my first officer has absolutely no clue about!" Jim explained. "I want to tell him, but I feel like it would be...awkward."
"Awkward that you're having sex with him, but not him?" Bones asked, laughing.
"It really isn't funny," the captain pouted. "I don't want Spock to be uncomfortable around me, but I don't even know how to address them. Calling them both 'Spock' is confusing. But, god, I can't call my lover 'Ambassador' in bed, and I don't want to call my friend 'Commander' over the chessboard while I demand that he call me 'Jim'."
Bones laughed a bit.
"Only you, Jim, only you," he snorted. "I would just tell the green-blooded hobgoblin that you're having sex with him-not-him. Chances are he'll just raise one of those pointed eyebrows and say something about the illogicality of emotions."
Jim glared at him again.
"Not. Helping," he informed his friend.
Bones just laughed again.
Neither one noticed the wide brown eyes watching their exchange as a pair of sensitive pointed ears caught every word.
Spock turned sharply away from where Dr. McCoy and Captain Kirk were having their highly inappropriate and completely illogical conversation.
His mind was racing with questions -
How could his elder counterpart engage in a sexual relationship with the captain?
When had this relationship begun?
What gave his alternate self the right to steal HIS captain?
Spock allowed himself to take a deep breath, knowing that the questions were not serving any purpose but to aggravate him futher.
So he would be logical, as always - and find his elder counterpart to make him answer these questions.
After all, as first officer it was his duty to protect the captain.