Notes: So, some Kirk/McCoy (nothing too explicit) and Spock being Spock...only kinda not. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek 2009 (or Strek Trek: The Original Series) and I make no profit from this work.


Jim jogged up the last flight of stairs, waved at the nosy old bag in 7C as she glowered out at him, and jammed his key into his front door obnoxiously loudly. It was all good - he wouldn't have to put up with her much longer.

It had been a long day at work, made longer by not getting to see Bones (phone calls weren't the same) but nothing beat coming home. Mostly because...

Warmth rubbed around his ankles, and he grinned, bending to stroke the lean black cat that wound itself around his left leg.

"Hey Spock," he said, shutting the front door quickly so the cat wouldn't get out. "Miss me?"

Jim didn't get people who didn't like pets. It was great - someone was always happy to see him come home, even if it was only - like today, as Spock meowed and made a beeline for the kitchen - for his skills in opening tinned food.

But after he'd been fed and spent enough time playing aloof-cat-that-only-tolerates-these-illogical-humans, Spock would curl up in Jim's lap and let Jim cuddle him. Sometimes he'd even purr. And if Jim spent the evening - or the night - at Bones' place, then Spock would follow him around the apartment when he came home as if he'd been missed.

It was awesome to be missed.

Jim rummaged in the cupboards for a tin, and snickered when Spock jumped up on the counter and meowed very close to his ear.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, you're hungry," he said, nudging the cat away while he opened a can of something that looked gross and smelled worse. Still, he wasn't going to eat it. He dumped it unceremoniously on a dish and smirked when Spock promptly ignored him in favour of food.

It wouldn't last long.

Spock wasn't technically his cat - he was, as far as Jim could tell, a stray. He'd lived in the alley at the bottom of the building's fire escape, and Jim was, to quote Bones, 'as soft as a melted marshmallow, and twice as girly.' He'd only seen the skinny black creature once or twice before he'd started leaving scraps out.

Eventually, a wary Spock had entered the apartment entirely, where Jim had promptly trapped him and won him over with proper cat food, a warm domicile, and milk. (Seriously, what was it with the milk?) Eventually, Spock had gotten used to him (sometimes, Jim liked to tell himself that the cat liked him, but it wasn't always clear) and had been further won over with cuddles.

And Jim had loved it. People came and went - families, friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, with only the possible exception of Bones - but Spock was always here, and would always love him. His needs were much more simple than another human being's. He didn't care what Jim said, or whether Jim left the bathroom door open while taking a shower, or whether walking around naked in front of the windows was inappropriate. All he required was cat food, a wire brush, and the right to curl up on Jim's person whenever he felt like it.

Pets were awesome.

Sure enough, by the time Jim had showered, changed and settled in front of the TV for the evening news, Spock had stalked out of the kitchen and was perched on the arm of the couch, washing his face. After a brief cleaning, he padded across the cushions and into Jim's lap, curling up with his head tucked into Jim's sternum, and started to purr quietly.

"Hey, buddy," Jim crooned, scratching the cat behind the ears. "This is pretty friendly for you, isn't it?"

Spock, of course, said nothing.

"Hey, you'll never guess," Jim continued over the weather report. "Bones called me today. He wants me to move in with him. Says nobody should live in a dump like this. Think I should go for it?"

Spock stopped purring and started kneading Jim's thigh with his claws. Fortunately, Jim had taken to wearing very thick jeans after he'd discovered that little habit.

"I think I'm going to say yes," Jim murmured, expertly running a hand under Spock's paws to stop him. "I mean...it's Bones. I can trust Bones. He's seen me at my worst, and he's still here. Right?"

He stared down at Spock, who stared back.

"Yeah, right," Jim chuckled. "I really need to stop talking to you like you're going to answer me."


When Jim came home from work the next day with Bones in tow, Spock found himself observing this extra human in a very different light.

He usually ignored Jim's extra humans entirely. The female ones tended to try and pick him up and cuddle him, and that was solely Jim's job, so he had taken to hiding whenever he heard female voices approaching. The male ones either completely ignored him - which was Spock's preferred option - or expressed a dislike of cats.

The ones that disliked cats did not usually return.

Jim had had many other humans since he'd shut Spock into the apartment and asserted ownership over him. Some of them only came once, and then never again; others were more regular, like Bones. Spock had never really liked any of them, but some had been tolerable. Hikaru had made attempts to win him over and brought treats. It had not worked, but the treats were an unexpected bonus. By contrast, Gary had been thoroughly ignored for weeks before he finally suggested that Jim get rid of 'that mangy animal' and had promptly disappeared, never to return.

Bones had appeared about ten months ago, and been coming around at least twice a week ever since, usually with foul-smelling alcohol. He had noted Spock's presence - "Huh. Took you for more of a dog person." - but had not really reacted to it. He ignored the cat, and the cat ignored him. Perfect.

As far as Spock really liked anyone, he supposed that Bones had his benefits. Jim was distinctly more cheerful after Bones had appeared, and Bones would bring donations to the cupboards when he visited. He once brought something in a box, and had left the empty box out for Spock, which had been appreciated. And Spock was well aware that humans required social interactions with their own species - much as these interactions between Jim and Bones seemed to be utterly disgusting and completely unhygenic - and so he was satisfied to know that Jim was not lonely.

But now...

If Jim's mind had been made up, then he would be leaving with Bones. And Bones didn't really like Spock, and Jim had made no mention of Spock coming too, so...was he going to be left behind?

When Jim brought Bones home with him after work, nothing seemed to have changed - Bones ignored the cat that rubbed past Jim's ankles, and Spock ignored the extra human that followed them into the kitchen - and his complaint when Spock jumped up onto the counter.

"Jim, you really shouldn't let a cat near your food."

"My cat, my kitchen, my rules," Jim sang happily, shaking out some dry food. "Pass the milk?"

"Don't come crying to me when you catch something," Bones grumbled. "You given any more thought to my suggestion?"

Spock looked up from his food dish suspiciously. Suggestion? The suggestion of Jim leaving? That suggestion?

"About leaving this place?" Jim clarified, pouring a bowl of milk and pushing it towards Spock. "Yeah."

"Well?" Bones pressed, folding his arms.

"Yeah," Jim said, flushing, and grinned, and Bones' grumpy face broke into an answering smile.

And even if cats could smile, Spock wouldn't have done.

Decision made or not, this was not going to happen.