Spock x Kirk - The Birthday!

Spock raised his head, an eyebrow following suit at the recognition of his captain. Or rather, at the look on his captain's face, his hands hidden behind his back like an excited child with an impish secret.

"May I help you… Captain?" Spock turned away from his console and addressed him directly when it looked as though the man would not speak first. James T. Kirk, in that frustratingly confident and utterly immovable way of his, grinned at Spock, lips turning up at the corners almost knowingly. Teasing, as he was want to do.

"Well, Mr. Spock," The captain said, leaning in slightly. "It has come to my attention that today is a very special day for you."

Spock stared up at him blankly. For a brief, frightening second, he thought Kirk might be referencing the Vulcan ritual of Pon Far, but being that that was still a year and some months away, he knew that couldn't be the case. So instead, Spock simply replied, "Care to elaborate?"

"Your birthday, Spock!" Kirk laughed, pulling what appeared to be a small cake from behind his back, a solitary, lit candle shoved into the center of the spongy and poorly frosted food item. Spock frowned.

"The celebration of one's birth is not a tradition recognized on Vulcan."

"But it is on Earth," Kirk countered. "So humor me."

"No." Spock turned back to the calculations he'd been working through, busying his hands to distract himself from the idiocy. As much as could be done with his Captain looming over him, pouting.

"At least blow out the candle…" Kirk tried, holding the cake in front of Spock's face, close enough that he could feel the warmth of the flame as it danced sardonically before his eyes.

"I'd rather not," Spock glared over his shoulder, pushing the man's persistent hand away, cake and all. "So if you'll allow me, captain, I have programs that need reworking before our next-"

"Is it your birthday, Captain?" Ensin Chekov suddenly appeared behind the both of them, a look triumph flashing briefly across Kirk's eyes before being replaced with one of exaggerated frustration.

"Why no, Chekov!" Kirk replied, overly dramatic and borderline theatrical. "It's not MY birthday." Spock fumed, eyes staring at the screen that was presently running his calculations, unable to focus with the eyes of his captain staring mischievously into the back of his head. "Actually, it's Mr. Spock's." Spock turned back towards them, ready to retort, but was caught off guard at once.

Chekov was smiling at him, eyes bright and innocent as only a human youth's could be. "Yours, Commander?"

Spock tensed, Kirk chiming in before the First Officer could do much more than open his mouth. "That's right! And the man won't even blow out his candle." He feigned a sigh, draping an arm around Spock's shoulders. "And after Lieutenant Uhura went to all that trouble to make it for you. What a damn shame."

Spock couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that, Kirk's obvious faux disappointment aside. Nyota had made him the cake? But why? He'd have probably expected as such had they still been together, but the termination of their relationship after positions on the Enterprise had been assigned wasn't exactly the fondest of memories. It seemed strange that she would make a cake for a holiday he didn't even celebrate. Let alone for the Vulcan who "wouldn't know happiness if it bit him in the ass." Or so she had explained. Before Spock could address this lack of continuity, however, Chekov's thick Russian accent interrupted his thoughts.

"Do you not like birthdays, Commander?"

"They are not an occasion that my people celebrate, no." Spock replied, hoping that would settle things, though hardly surprised when it didn't.

"You mean… you did not have birthdays on Wulcan?" The boy seemed genuinely troubled by this. Still, Spock merely sighed, answering truthfully.

"No. We did not."

"I see…" Chekov looked away, seemingly upset. Kirk frowned at Spock as though it was his fault, but Spock merely stared back, stoic, if not slightly confused. Thankfully, the boy needed no more prompting than curious silence before deciding to explain. "Birthdays are an important thing in my family. It is… sad to think you never got to experience one, sir."

Spock could only watch as Chekov sighed, clearly distraught by Spock's so called disadvantage. Kirk smirked, a second long tug of the lips before they melted back into an over exaggerated frown. "Come on, Spock. Blow out the candle. For Chekov's sake." At this, Spock rolled his eyes.

"Will you allow me to continue my work if I do?" Spock tried, reluctant.

"Definitely." Kirk smiled back. Spock shook his head, groaning under his breath.


Kirk and Chekov shared a look, the boy smilingly happily as Kirk held the small cake out towards Spock, candle level with his lips. Wasting no time, Spock blew a small but sharp stream of air in its direction, the flame puffing into nonexistence at once.

"There," Spock said, turning back to his console, ignoring whatever exchange was most likely taking place behind him. Softly, as though hoping not to disturb him further, he heard Chekov mumble a brief but kind, "Happy Birthday, sir," before disappearing. Spock sighed again, enveloping himself in his work, hoping desperately that that was the end of it. Of course, he hadn't overlooked the fact that only one set of footsteps had taken leave.

Out of the corner of his eye, Spock watched Kirk's hand place the cake on the keyboard at the edge of his station. "Yeah. Happy Birthday." The man said, a chuckle in his voice. "You don't have to eat it. It probably sucks."

Without thinking, Spock mumbled, "I'm sure it is beyond satisfactory." Realizing his slip, he added softly, as an afterthought, "Lieutenant Uhura is a capable baker." To his surprise, however, Kirk laughed loudly at this.

"She didn't make it." He explained through his fit, the laughter dying down to small, whispered chuckles. "I asked her to, but she wouldn't have anything to do with it for some reason. Maybe she knew you'd be this unappreciative or whatever." Spock couldn't help turning around, a look of confusion on his face-or as much of one as could be expected of the consistently expressionless Vulcan.

"Then who-?" He started, but Kirk cut him off with a wink.

"Like I said, it probably sucks." He turned away, throwing a hand over his shoulder in a half-hearted goodbye. "I'm no Lieutenant Uhura."

Spock watched him leave, stunned. Well, that was unexpected… he thought, picking up the cake and ripping off a small piece, hesitating for a moment before popping it into his mouth. He frowned. Mediocre at best. He placed the cake back on the keyboard and returned to his calculating, smirking slightly despite himself.