Title: Two public inquiries and a wedding or how to choose the appropriate pet name for your Vulcan
Author: Yuuzaiden & Muzaiden
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek and All characters are 18 or older, except if they aren't. Comments and Critiques welcome
I do not own Star Trek.
Characters: Spock, Kirk
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Warnings: Sass in equal measure
Summary: Spock and Kirk go to class
Author's Note: Sorry for the hellishly long wait
Looking into the determined faces of his Advanced Phonology class, Instructor Spock began his lesson 45.3 seconds late, but he was the only one to acknowledge that fact as he was the only one who noticed the chronological miscalculation. It was a review really, this class, but a chance to further one's education was never remiss; especially in light of recent events. As it was Spock was not the kind of individual to miss a teaching opportunity especially to those whose stock made up half of his genetic code, to teach them about the language of his lost home, in hope to preserve more than just the memory of it, and his people.
As he listened to the inaccurate pronunciations and made corrections where necessary, the officer briefly glanced to the projected examples against the wall behind him. It was unnecessary; the fluid swirls of Vulcan script upon the board was his own personal handiwork, unavailable in any workbook or supplementary text. The passage was work unaffiliated to the lesson at hand, but quite relevant to the overall understanding of written Vulcan The script was extraneous instruction, a focusing point for when minds inevitably wandered as the minds of students were oft to do. It was a way to keep the instruction fresh, a practice which the instructor himself had learned from his mother. She'd often attributed such a tactic to the overall success of her students. She had been an exceptional teacher, forging a legacy he would proudly to maintain.
The gathered students clustered within the class were attentive, much more so than he had anticipated, in truth his mind was not solely focused on the work at hand. His resident aide seemed to pick up on this as she often corrected the oddly worded queries and supplemented the professor's instructions. She too would look to the extraneous text her training and knowledge allowing her to extrapolate the meaning exactly right down to the root phrasing. Her remarkable experience, however impressive it was, was not enough to let her know just what at the query was for.
Its intended recipient however would most likely never receive the message, at least not anytime soon. The captain would still be dozing, his eyes just barely opening as he attempted to check the chronometer. As Spock had found himself becoming more acquainted with the man's habits, he had come to understand his commanding officer more than he had expected to. Kirk would no doubt be staring at the empty pillow to his left, the unfamiliar room and the uniform that had been replicated for him. The instructor had prepared for more than just his own needs on this particular morning. It had been all he would do, all that was strictly appropriate. He had never before had a guest in such a fashion and he was not sure at this juncture if he was precisely ready to make a habit of it or not.
That was the query, was it not?
Stepping forward he proffered a question to his the class, watching the reactions of his students as they answered accurately this time. Yes as a whole they performed admirably a small hint of pride rippled through him and the Vulcan continued, before his full attention was unceremoniously snatched from the lesson at hand and everything he'd been about to say. Two thirds into the class period, all heads turned as the doors parted allowing James Tiberius Kirk to ease his way into the class, claiming an empty seat in the back, nearly a row behind the resident aide almost smiling in his direction. Flashing an offhanded salute with a free hand he turned back to the silent instructor, lifting a mug to his lips.
Spock knew contents of the cup instinctively, sharing close quarters with Jim for several days made him easier to anticipate, more so than a first office was expected to manage. The novelty mug was filled to the brim with black coffee, laced with rather unhealthy dose of sugar and a liberal addition of cinnamon.
Jim was fond of the spice it seemed, adding it to most recipes. As he was also fond of bending any rule that he wished, mainly those that did not conform to his own brand of morality, which included any and all he encountered.
As the man took another sip of his sweetened drink Spock almost instructed him to discard the mug. It was almost more of a distraction than Kirk was himself. Their eyes met briefly and Jim turned away tapping his fingers against the edge of the black mug, Spock almost frowned, but he too turned back to the lesson. Belatedly he realized that the drink was a ploy. The man was not seeking to distract or even annoy, simply put James was being himself, pure and simple. He was seeking attention.
While such an action was usually frowned upon Jim was not actually enrolled in the class, and by some stretch of imagination did not fall under the Vulcan's jurisdiction. Despite this he could also be ordered to leave at any time, but at this stage of their interaction it would be an aberration. Spock would not make him leave just because he was a nuisance, it would be an overreaction and Vulcans themselves were not capable of such a thing, even if he and the Captain knew better.
At the fact he'd chosen to show, Spock was not surprised, instead marveled at the overall appearance of the man who was his commanding officer. Clutching the PADD he'd relied on the night before, his hair was ruffled as much, if not more than the grey Academy Alumni uniform he wore. His eyes, were almost imperceptible, the clear azure Spock knew them to be were trained solely upon the instructor. Ignoring the intense gaze Spock changed the subject of the educational discourse as he maintained the fact he wasn't watching the Captain out of the corner of his eye.
It was strictly proper, and absolutely necessary he reasoned to watch over the officer in the back of the room. As he'd come to learn an unobserved James Tiberius Kirk was an occupational hazard, much like a bored or otherwise incensed Captain. At any rate observation now was the most logical action to prevent any unforeseen occurrences. This endeavor, Spock realized the moment he matched gazes with man, had the unfortunate consequence of distracting him more so than he anticipated especially as James pressed a coffee stained finger to his lips.
Watching the deliberate brush of calloused pad against skin, the Instructor faltered albeit briefly, but continued, his impressive intellect falling into a shoddily laid mental trap as he remembered the exact rate at which Jim's heart beat as he slept. Their proximity not so long ago had granted the pair, the Vulcan particularly a chance to expand their perceptions of one another in such intimate quarters. Even now he could easily recall the subtle shifts his Captain had made while dreaming, the fluttering of his eyes and the very moment they had touched.
The Captain was leaning forward now, whispering to his communications officer, she waved him off, but slipped him a PADD and corrected yet another electronic assignment, adding it to the stack before her. Staring at the screen mouthing the words, his eyes flickered briefly to the man watching then back to the PADD as he slowly fondled the edge.
Where he had been pleasantly warm, Jim was achingly cool, his skin smoother than expected but with certain strength much like the man himself. A tranquil sleeper, the Captain had pressed close his companion, the actual owner of the bed, as he drifted off. His breathing had evened, the worries erased from his brow, interestingly enough he almost appeared younger than he was, a phenomenon of which as a Vulcan he'd heard of, but had yet to encounter. Lying there next to Kirk, slim fingers pressed to his face, Spock had slipped against his mind and beheld the mysteries within. As easily as one would navigate an untraveled forest path, so too did Spock through the mind of man enveloped with the fabrics of his bed.
It was not a true meld; no Vulcan would ever presume such a thing, not without permission. Still as they lay nearly intertwined Jim reached for him, knuckles brushing over his wrist, the siren song of his unconscious thoughts so similar, but different. It was impossible to ignore, the pull of Jim's mind, like a fresh gust of fragrant air over his own. Unconsciously Spock's thoughts turned towards the contact delving into the mind, seeking a deeper connection.
Jim was closer now, pushing the PADD back into Uhura's line of sight. She whispered something back and that easy smile spread across his pale lips as he pushed a hand through his hair. Slowly, he looked up from the device, his gaze skimming across the rows as he looked back toward the Professor. Those guileless orbs staring into Spock, eyes the color of-.
Blue sky high above great fields of gold tipped green, swaying in the wind, in the unending blue huge clouds floated casting shadows over the earth. A tall dark house stood in the distance far from the wood and wire fence blocking the dusty road. Almost unending the dirt path went on to the horizon giving way to orchards and the great rolling hills beyond. It was paradise, peaceful enough. It was home.
It wasn't home but Spock could hardly tell the difference so drawn in by the unique scene before him. He desperately wanted to climb the trees and pelt the dirt with apples before jumping and crushing them beneath his feet to let the rich scent pervade his senses. He wished to pull mulberries from the fence smash them between his fingers and lick the red pulp away before spitting the tiny seeds at the cars that rarely traveled the old road.
Surface memories and vague delights, like the scent of well brewed coffee, hot and sweet almost burning his tongue. Jim had sighed under the covers, the smile of his youth stealing across his features. He slept almost curled, his knees bumping against the Vulcan's thighs. He was silent in his sleep, save for the rhythmic inhale and exhale of air from his lips.
Turning against the solid frame of the man, Jim slept on. Watchful, careful Spock had been intrigued. It had all happened so quickly, the brush of his thoughts against Jim's, the electric jolt of touching a Human mind; he had not experienced such a thing since the death of his mother.
Straightening he turned again to the large screen, the image rippling into another display of phonetics and their rules of application. Directing the attention to students, all but one he began to annunciate the bolded phrases, sharing his knowledge of language best not forgotten. As Vulcan as he was the burst of his humanity brought on by the very name of his people and his nonexistent home, dredged up fierce memories within his mind the sight of the crumbling planet and the loss of a cool hand touching his own.
His syllables faltered and his voice softened, the confusion on the assembled faces was ignored for the cocky self sure expression on one.
A hand slipped into the air and the Commander's lips thinned. James was watching him openly now, there was no question about it or the fact he was watching him as well. Students turned in their seats as he did more than address the Captain, meeting the eternally blue eyes as he called his name aloud.
"Mr. Kirk?" He raised the intonation of his voice to indicate inquiry, not that it was necessary.
"Professor, hi" Jame greeted, lips curling up nearly to his eyes.
Spock's brows rose at the drawling use of his title, but James continued running the edge of his finger over the lip of his mug. The professor did not frown, nor did he react in any facial expression His grip on the edge of his desk however bordered on painful.
"Is there something you wish to ask Mr. Kirk or do you derive enjoyment wasting the valuable instruction time of others?."
"Yeah, I wanted to ask about the interrogative sentence up there." He gestured with a free hand and took another swallow of his coffee.
"I was wondering if it's up for translation or for display only."
"Translation, if you wish to attempt it Mr. Kirk."
If Kirk had solved the sentence, there was no need to deny him the glory he sought. The challenge would be met one way or the other.
"You are of course exempt from participation credit for this course."
"Right, I understand completely." Easing up from his seat James Kirk wandered into the aisle and faced the Vulcan script high on the board. "So can I solve the puzzle Alex?"
"If you posses the knowledge and ability to do so, you may Mr. Kirk."
"Ma etek natyan teretuhr lau etek shetau weh-lo'uk do tum t'on." His pronunciation was not perfect, nor were his expressions, Uhura noted with a wince, but his identification of the phrase was startlingly accurate. Leaning on the end of the row he flashed a shit-eating grin.
"It's saying of Surak, legendary Vulcan philosopher, scientist, and logician; the father of the modern Vulcan civilization. 'We have differences. May we, together, become greater than the sum of both of us'."
"That is correct."
"But there's more to it than that, isn't it?" He had derived the meaning that much was certain. Spock simply raised a brow at his distracted class, and returned to the lesson at hand. Jim moved to meet him, descending the steps of the auditorium stopping short beside the last row. His smile was long gone.
"It's a proposal, Spock."
That much was accurate and the Vulcan acknowledged the assumption with a nod. His previous assertion had been correct. The Captain of the Enterprise it seemed would always rise to meet a challenge.
"I am aware of that fact."
"Well, to your request I must respectfully decline."
Both brows rose exponentially, but Spock merely placed his hand to the desk and leaned forward.
"For what reason?"
Jim stepped closer, unintentionally mirroring the Vulcan's posture, his hands flat on the desktop
"You want reasons?" Jim asked incredulously, "Fine here's one, I haven't figured out the syntax to ask if you're out of your Vulcan mind!"
Pulling back Spock made a note to speak with Dr. McCoy at his earliest opportunity; the Captain was picking up his unsavory mannerisms. Looking up at him Jim continued, tapping his fingers on the desk.
"It not that it isn't romantic, for you anyway and I have to admit it's much better attempt than the first time but I still can't say yes."
The Vulcan's voice dropped an octave. "Please enlighten me."
Jim moved forward, both advancing physically and verbally, trailing his fingers across the desk as he moved.
"You're…" he paused searching for an appropriate word that wouldn't have his first officer bearing down on him again, "-distressed." He accused somewhat lamely stopping in front of Spock.
His voice had softened to a hushed murmur but there was no point attempting to conceal information in a room designed to amplify sound. With a crease of his brows, Spock made to deny the appraisal, but Jim beat him to the punch.
"I know this," he gestured between them with a finger,"-is important to you, it's important to me too. But you're beginning to act ridiculous. You might as well have asked me on the bridge."
"Would you have responded affirmatively in such a location?"
Closing his mouth Jim considered the question before shaking his head in denial. "I know what you're trying to do, and I appreciate it, really; but I have no idea how to explain how monumentally in poor taste this is."
"Elaborate." Rather taken aback Spock stiffened and his voice rose despite his intentions. "You did not concede to the most rational choice left to us in this situation. I sought to challenge you. You have responded well to such stimulation previously."
Jim's challenging expression twisted into one of restrained fury and he looked away practically hissing his reply.
"You're, you know, I don't even know what say you are."
Arms folded he sighed emphatically, and the sound echoed across the hall just as the last words that left his lips had. He turned back to the instructor removing the microphone from his collar just as a single voice carried back down to them. Eyes toward the assembled students, the commanding officers of the USS Enterprise were instantly bombarded by comments, offers and suggestions as the class called out in standard and Vulcan. Spock set the offending bit of tech aside mildly surprised by the turn of event as Jim attempted to quell the minor mutiny in the sea of red.
"No!" he snapped aloud, following it with an angry "Watch your langugage!" and a bemused "Don't be a sycophant". He fell silent; merely listening before to the assembled throng before shouting into the din
"Did you just say I was illogical?" He raised a hand, but Spock was quicker and stronger, drawing him close.
"You're avoiding the question."
Before anything else could be inferred or suggested a shrill whistle cut through the crowd and all fell silent as Nyota Uhura descended the steps gracefully.
"You're interrupting the lesson." She informed them simply, retrieving the microphone from the desk. Eying Spock she offered a sympathetic smile, but her tone was one of command rather than suggestion.
"Since you're not up to finishing the lesson why don't you take this conversation somewhere a little more private? I'll handle things here."
No more surprised than before Spock gestured to class. "A suitable suggestion, thank you Nyota; the remainder of the lesson is yours."
The Commander's office was as ordered as his quarters, with less personal trimmings. Jim didn't pay much attention to it despite this being his first foray into the Vulcan's workspace. He was much more concerned with the fact Spock was nearly pacing, well as much as a Vulcan could pace at any rate. Rubbing his sore wrist Jim watched him in silence, before it all became too much to simply ignore.
"Out with then, what's so important that I have to agree to marry you right now?"
"The phrase now or never comes to mind." Spock slowed his movement to regard Jim. "If you do not agree now, will you ever do so?"
Jim's silence was deafening. Spock turned away, resuming his circuit of the room.
"I have made every attempt to offer an appropriate inquiry for such. Klingons fight, Orions dance I have yet to attempt either method of proposal, but I can state with conviction that you will reject both."
"Jim I have been patient, even understanding but now, at this moment, I wish to know what you find so objectionable, you do not wish to have me why?"
"I never said that"
"You will not accept my proposal."
"I just need time Spock"
"A luxury that we do not have, The Admiralty will not allow either of us to return to the Enterprise until the matter is settled. One way or another we must do what we must."
Jim saw the emotion subtle as it was slip fleetingly across Spock's face. His mind came to the same conclusion that Spock had been operating on for ages. If they didn't play along one way or another they were going to lose something. Jim just needed to decide which one was more important,it came down to losing his ship or Spock.
Spock saw his indecision and pressed on with his argument.
"You have already illustrated that the only problem the board has with our arrangement is our marital status. The easiest and cleanest method is to marry."
"You've never actually been married have you?"
"Not yet but it's something I seek to rectify."