Archive of Our Own ^beta

Nyota Uhura

The replicators go offline.

The moment Scotty calls it up to the bridge, Nyota watches as both Jim and Spock tense. She sees Spock’s mouth twist in displeasure, only for a moment before it smooths back into a tight line. She’s about to suggest he take the rest of the shift off, but McCoy beats her to it, calling Jim and Spock down to medbay for a rationing plan or something like that. Jim stands up so fast he stumbles, and his voice cracks as he tells Sulu to take the con. He grabs Spock’s wrist and practically drags him to the turbolift. She watches them both slump against the wall as the doors slide closed. 

Huh. 

Hikaru Sulu

He shares a meaningful look with Uhura as he goes to take his place in the captain’s chair. What the hell was that? 

She shakes her head, and he sighs. His commanding officers are weird sometimes, sure, but he’s never seen them like that. Spock had practically clung to Captain Kirk as they’d left the bridge, actively seeking out Jim’s bare skin as they’d rushed to the turbolift. Hikaru’s never seen anything like it. He thinks for a moment, then presses the com button on the arm of his chair. 

“Lieutenant Xavix to the bridge, please.” He says. El’irinq always seems to know what’s going on. 

Leonard McCoy

“You can drop the act, you two,” Leonard says as Jim and Spock half walk, half stumble into his medbay. He’s already kicked out Christine and Geoff, so it’s just the three of them. Good. 

“Thanks, Bones.” Jim croaks, practically collapsing onto the nearest biobed. He tugs Spock down with him so that they’re all-but sitting on top of each other, and Spock lasts only a moment before burying his head in Jim’s shoulder, body shaking delicately as he grabs for Jim’s bare hand. Skin-to-skin contact is probably a good idea. 

“Don’t mention it,” Leonard grabs two hyposprays, and jabs them both before they can protest, “here. Mild sedative— should take the edge off for a while,” He discards the empty hypos and shoves his hands into his pockets, leaning back on his heels, “try to get some sleep while it lasts. Get Riley in here too, if you see ‘im.”

“We will,” Jim says. He stands slowly, arms wrapped around Spock and coaxing him gently upwards, “C’mon, Spock. Let’s go back to your quarters, yeah?” Spock shakes his head, and mumbles something that Leonard doesn’t catch, “Okay, okay. My room it is,” He presses a kiss to the top of Spock’s head, and the Vulcan lets out a shaky sigh before straightening, tucking one hand behind his back and the other tangling with Jim’s, “G’night, Bones.”

“Goodnight.” 

Montgomery Scott

Scotty is trying to fix the replicators (and it’s not as if they’re going to be starving anytime soon - they have emergency rations and a whole damn greenhouse for just this type of situation), and it’s not particularly hard work, just time consuming, but it’d be going a lot faster if he could go a few minutes without his comm chirping with a check-in from either Captain Kirk or Mr. Spock. 

“It’s like they’re taking turns,” he mutters after the twelfth message in what has to be something like four hours, now, and Ensign Kelly hums in acknowledgement. 

“I mean, it makes sense, I suppose,” Dr. M’Benga says. He and the nurses have been banished from sickbay for some reason, and he’s busy going over the replicator memory banks, figuring that he’ll tweak some of the nutritional settings while he’s here. 

“Whad’ya mean, lad?” Scotty says. Kelly makes a triumphant sound as she gets the first replacement generator knob screwed in, and he pats her on the back. M’Benga frowns. 

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?” The doctor opens his mouth, but Christine Chapel swats him on the arm before he can speak. 

“Not our place to tell, Geoffrey,” she scolds.

“But Chris, they should—” 

“No.” He sighs, and Scotty chuckles, then groans as his communicator sounds yet again. 

Janice Rand

Yeoman Janice Rand maneuvers the large tray so that it’s half-supported by the wall, reaching carefully around it to ring the bell to the Captain’s quarters. She’s been breathing through her mouth to avoid having to smell the Plomeek soup that the Captain had requested for Mr. Spock, and she’ll be relieved to be rid of it. 

“Janice?” she hears from inside.

“Yep.” She says, popping the ‘p.’ There’s the sound of shuffling, and she waits patiently until the door opens. 

“Come on in,” She hefts the tray and walks in, hardly pausing to stare at what she finds. She’s a professional, after all. 

“Where—” Janice clears her throat, “where do you want everything?” 

“I can take this,” Jim plucks the soup bowl from the tray and brings it over to the food stasis box, “Spock can have it when he wakes up - don’t need it stinking up the whole room,” He winks, and she snorts, glancing over to where Spock is curled up on Jim’s bed, hidden somewhere under a mountain of blankets. 

“Jim?” Janice blinks — why is Kevin Riley here? He emerges from somewhere under the blanket pile (what? ), rubbing his eyes and yawning. 

“Food’s here,” the captain smiles, and she’s pretty sure it’s forced. Riley all but hops out of the bed, clambering over Mr. Spock in his rush to get to the tray. 

“Can I—” she realizes that he’s asking for permission, and she nods, a lump forming in her throat. He grabs the first thing he sees — a grilled cheese sandwich — and his eyes light up, his head raising to look at Jim like he’s given him manna from heaven. “Thank you,” he whispers, and scampers back to the bed with his meal. Jim sighs shakily. 

“No problem, kid,” he turns back to her, as if only just remembering that she’s there, “thanks, yeoman.” 

“Of course, sir.” 

Pavel Chekov

Pasha is bored. It’s been hours of star mapping, and Hikaru has the con so he can’t even talk to him. Ugh. He wonders where the Captain and Mr. Spock are — the bridge is far too quiet without them. He swivels his chair back and forth, finally groaning and plopping his head down onto his console. 

“You good, Pavel?” Hikaru asks from behind him, and Pasha groans again. 

“No,” He hears Lieutenant Xavix snort, and he turns his head to stick his tongue out at them, “I am bored.” Sulu sighs. 

“Yeah, I can get that,” He says, and Pasha watches him jab the com button on the arm of the captain’s chair, “Sulu to Scott.”

“Oh, not you too!” 

Christine Chapel

It’s been almost a day, and Chris decides that someone should probably check up on the Captain and Mr. Spock. The only people she’s seen going in and out of either of their rooms are Yeoman Rand and Ensign Riley, who went in a few hours ago and hasn’t come out yet. She almost wishes that she didn’t know why. 

She decides to try Captain Kirk’s quarters first. She rings the bell, smiling softly at the Vulcan lute music she can hear from inside. She closes her eyes, swaying a bit, and is startled when the door wooshes open. 

“Nurse Chapel,” the captain sounds faintly surprised, and there are bags under his eyes, “what can I do for you?” 

“I just wanted,” Chris swallows, her mouth suddenly dry, “I just wanted to check on you and Mr. Spock, captain.” 

“Oh,” he smiles weakly, “we’re okay. Thanks.” 

“Glad to hear it,” she says, “if there’s anything you need…”

“We’ll let you know,” he clears his throat, “I’ll let you know.” 

“That’s all I ask,” she nods politely at Mr. Spock, who has come to stand at the captain’s shoulder, “goodnight, captain. Commander.” 

“Goodnight.” 

Geoffrey M’Benga

“How are they doing?” Geoff shuffles his deck of cards, splicing it one last time before beginning to deal. Christine shrugs, gathering her hand into a neat pile. 

“Fine, I suppose,” she says, “as well as can be expected.” Leonard snorts.

“Loads better than last time, at least,” he says, taking a swig of his freakishly orange drink.

“Last time?” Nurse Leola Braedyn, a soft-spoken Axanar who they’d picked up from Starbase 3, asks. 

“Yeah,” Leonard sighs, “last time was...certainly something.”

“We had a historian come aboard,” Christine explains, “who had a...less than professional interest in Captain Kirk’s past. He’d somehow managed to unseal parts of the captain’s medical records, and…” she trails off, and Braedyn winces. 

“Oh.”

“Exactly,” Geoff finishes dealing, fanning his cards out with a graceful flourish that goes woefully unnoticed, “I’ve never seen Mr. Spock so close to going feral, as it were.” 

“Forget feral,” Leonard pushes a small pile of tokens into the center of the table, and Christine clucks her tongue, “he was downright emotional.” 

“Now that,” Geoff says, “is an understatement.” 

Jim Kirk

“There you go,” Jim murmurs, smiling at the rumble of Spock’s purr as he towels off his hair, “that better?” 

“Mhm,” Spock turns to nuzzle into his chest, and Jim chuckles, “thank you, ashayam.” 

“Did you take your pills?” They both take way too many supplements, a little something left over from a certain period in their adolescent development. 

“Yes,” Spock mumbles, “may I get out now?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he kisses Spock’s forehead and makes to help him out of the tub, “you want to go to bed?” Spock nods. "Okay.” It feels good, taking care of him like this. It gives Jim a sense of control, and Spock an opportunity to let go of his. He leads him back to the bedroom, holding out a soft robe for Spock to change into. He does, and Jim coaxes him over to the bed. “Scoot over, Kev,” he says quietly, nudging Kevin’s side until he rolls over with a grumble, “make some room.” 

“Ngh.” Kevin yawns, and snuggles up to Spock’s back as he lays down. Jim smiles softly, laughing when Spock pulls him into the bed, purring loudly. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, “you’ve got me, baby.” 

“I do,” Spock rubs his head against Jim sleepily, and Jim melts into his arms, “mine.” 

“Yours.” 

Kevin Riley

Kevin wakes with a cry in the middle of the ship’s night, chest heaving as he jolts out of a nightmare. 

“No…” he whines, flailing a bit as he struggles to untangle himself from the blankets. Spock’s arm is flung over his waist, and Kevin moans in distress as he tries and fails to remove its weight. 

“Kev’n?” Jim’s voice is blurry with sleep, and he reaches across Spock to grope for the younger man’s shoulder, “you okay?” 

“Y-yeah,” Kevin whispers, even as he grabs onto Jim’s hand like a lifeline, “go back to sleep, m’fine.” Spock’s arm tightens around his torso, and he whimpers. Jim sits up. 

“Bullshit,” he says, and taps Spock’s temple, “Spock. Sweetheart.” Spock makes an inquisitive mrrp noise that is frankly adorable, and his eyes flutter open. They glow a bit in the dark, like a cat’s, and Kevin laughs weakly at the thought.

“C'ptain?” Spock mumbles, finally moving his arm away. 

“There we go,” Jim smiles, “you can go back to sleep now, love.” And stars, Kevin wants what they have, wants it so bad it almost hurts. He sighs. 

“Thanks.” he says, watching fondly as Spock turns over to cuddle Jim instead. 

“Goodnight, kid.” 

“Night.” 

S’chn T’gai Spock

When he wakes early the next morning, Spock is pleasantly trapped between two bodies and a sizable mountain of blankets. The weighted quilt that his mother had knitted for him is wrapped snuggly around his legs, and he squirms a bit to hike it up a bit higher. He can feel Jim’s mind drifting sleepily in and out of his own, and he allows himself a contented sigh, snuggling sweetly against his t’hy’la’s side. 

“Good morning,” Jim says, taking Spock’s hand in his own, “sleep well?” 

“My rest was,” he tucks his nose into the juncture between Jim’s neck and shoulder, kissing the soft skin there, “satisfactory.”

“I’m glad,” he can hear the smile in Jim’s voice, “Kevin awake yet?” 

“Negative.” Kevin is a dead weight against his back. 

“That’s good,” Jim rolls over, smiling up at Spock, “are we on shift today?” 

“I do not believe so. If I remember correctly, Mr. Sulu offered to take alpha shift, and Lieutenant Uhura will be on beta.” 

“That’s good,” Jim says again, “we can have a bit of a lazy day, then, yeah?” 

“Of course,” his stomach grumbles, and Jim’s laugh could light up the whole quadrant, “but first, breakfast.” 

Shiboline M’Ress

Lieutenant M’Ress keeps a careful eye on Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock and Ensign Riley as they enter the mess hall together. They sit at a table in the corner, and Spock goes to order for the three of them (Scotty has managed to get two of the replicators up and running again, which is good. She needs her protein). Her sharp ears can just barely pick out the soft back-and-forth between the captain and ensign, something non-consequential about Jeffries tubes. She turns her attention back to her meal. 

“So?” El’irinq Xavix leans forward on their forearms, a mischievous smile stretching across their face. M’Ress shrugs, spearing her meat with her knife and bringing it to her mouth.

“Good morning,” Nyota joins them, putting her tray of food down across from El’irinq’s. 

“Good morning,” M’Ress responds around a mouthful of food.

“That’s disgusting,” El’irinq says. M’Ress rolls her eyes. 

“Please, you two,” Nyota chides, cutting into her vibibi with relish, “calm down. We can’t all be sophisticated.” M’Ress purrs low in her throat, and steals another glance at the trio in the corner. McCoy has joined them, and he and Spock are engaged in a heated but friendly debate about the captain’s diet. She smiles to herself.

Back to normal, then. 

Chris Pike

As soon as he gets the report from the Enterprise, Chris schedules a subspace call. If he knows Jim and Spock (which he does), they’ll be needing someone from off-ship to talk to. He calls Leonard McCoy first. 

“Hey, kid.” The doctor sighs. 

“I’m not that much younger than you, Admiral,” he says, smiling all the same, “you’re calling after Jim and Spock, right?”

“Yes.”

“It was too much to hope that you were callin’ just to see my pretty face, huh,” Chris rolls his eyes, “I’ll let ‘em know.” 

“Thanks, Leonard.”

“No problem.” 

“Ooo, is that Admiral Pike?!” He can hear Christine Chapel from behind McCoy, and his smile widens. She’d done her residency during the last few months of his captaincy, and had actually been the first to suggest McCoy as the next CMO. 

“Hey, Chris,” he says.

“Nice to see you, Chris,” she pushes Leonard aside, propping her elbows on the tabletop with a cheeky grin, “how are things Earthside?” 

“Oh,” he laughs, “same old, same old.”

“Glad to hear it.” 

“I was..." He clears his throat, smile fading. “I was sorry to hear about Roger, Christine,” he says, and she sighs, “he was a good man.” 

“He was,” she whispers, “he was. Thank you.”

“Of course.” The door opens behind him, and Number One hangs up her jacket before sliding in behind him, practically sitting on his lap (not that he minds). 

“You didn’t tell me you’d gotten through to the Enterprise, Christopher,” she says, waving to Nurse Chapel, “is Leonard around?” 

“I’m here!” The doctor calls from somewhere offscreen. 

“Leonard!” He pokes his head into the view of the camera, grinning and waving with a fist full of hyposprays.

“Hey there, Una,” he says with a wink, “how you doing?”

“Oh, I’m just fine!” She giggles (giggles!), “It’s good to see you.”

“You too!” 

“Sometimes,” Chris grumbles, “I think you’re gearing up to run off with him, One.” 

“Maybe I am, Christopher,” she laughs, elbowing his side, “maybe I am.” 

--

Nyota patches him through to Jim’s quarters, where she says he and Spock have been holed up for the past two days. To his surprise, it’s Kevin Riley who picks up. 

“Oh! Um, hello, Admiral,” the ensign stammers, “sir.” He sits up ramrod straight in his chair, and he looks like a mess. Pike smiles gently. 

“At ease, ensign.” He says. Riley slumps.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he mumbles, “it’s...it’s been a long couple of days.” 

“I’m sure,” Chris says gently. 

“Hey, is that Pike?” Jim nudges Kevin away from the desk, and the ensign makes it about three steps before collapsing onto the bed, “Hey Chris! Spock, come say hi to Chris!” 

“Hello, Chris,” the Vulcan has bags under his eyes, and he’s practically slumping against Jim, “Admiral. Admiral Pike. Yes. Hello.” Chris smiles fondly, chuckling at Jim’s delighted laugh. 

“Hey, Spock,” he says, “how’s my favorite chief science officer?” 

“I was,” Spock yawns, and there’s an adorable little frown on his face, “I was your only chief science officer.” 

“He knows that,” Jim says, and the heart eyes would make Chris gag if it wasn’t so damn sweet, “he’s messing with you, honey.”

“Oh.” Spock’s nose scrunches a bit, and Chris nearly coos out loud. 

“Why don’t you go get ready for bed, yeah?” Spock nods, and Jim smiles. He pulls out the chair and sits down, slouching a bit as Spock goes into the bathroom. 

“Hey,” Chris says. 

“Hey,” he scrubs at his eyes, yawning, “sorry, it’s been—” he yawns again, “it’s been a while. How are you?”

“I was about to ask the same of you, Jim.” Kirk shrugs. 

“We’ve been okay, I guess,” he says, “not great, but not awful either.” He reminds him of Michael, Chris thinks, and makes a mental note to mention that to Amanda next time he talks to her. 

“That’s good,” Jim nods, propping his cheek against his hand, “is Spock okay?” He waits until he hears the hum of the sonic shower to ask this, having learned the hard way about Vulcan super-hearing.

“Not really, but he’s getting there,” he says quietly, “had a dissociation episode earlier, though, freaked Uhura out while I was checking in with Scotty.” Chris winces sympathetically. He remembers Ulvar VII, how Spock had gone practically catatonic when they’d come across a purple field decimated by drought. Number One had had to take him back to the ship, and he’d spent the rest of the week in their quarters, clinging silently to Chris after waking from horrible nightmares. 

“And Riley?” Jim smiles a bit.

“He’s pretty good,” he says, “been staying with us, but he’s been insistent on taking gamma shifts, so,” he shrugs, “can’t be that bad.”

“And you?” Jim stills, and Chris allows himself a small smile. Jackpot.  

“I’m…” Jim sighs, “I’m fine.”

“Are you?” 

“I…” behind him, Spock exits the bathroom, wearing a long skirt and what looks like one of Jim’s vintage band t-shirts, “I dunno.” Chris nods. 

“Have you been on-shift at all?” He asks. 

“He has not,” Spock places a hand on Jim’s shoulder. He’s glad he’d had the foresight to introduce (well, re-introduce) them. “However, Mr. Scott, Mr. Sulu and Lieutenant Uhura have been particularly helpful in managing his shifts.” 

“You have a good crew,” Chris says. Jim smiles wearily, but there’s a pride in his eyes that Chris knows all too well.

“We do,” he says, covering Spock’s hand with his own, “we really do.” 

Sarek and Amanda

“Come on now, Sarek,” his wife says, “you don’t even have to talk.”

“Then what would be the purpose of—“

“A gesture, adun,” she says, “just a nice thing to do.” She takes his arm, and he sighs. Most illogical. But he has found, in their many years of marriage, that he is most often quite incapable of denying Amanda what she wants. 

“Fine, Amanda. I will…accompany you when you make your call.” She beams. 

“Thank you, love.” Something in him melts at that - Earth endearments hold a metaphorical place in his heart. Amanda goes over to sit at their household sub-space con, and he moves to stand behind her, resting his hand on her shoulder. She pats it fondly, and connects to the local interstellar operator station. “Oh! Stoltik, how are you?” 

“Greetings, Lady Amanda,” the young man, a child of one of Amanda’s friends who has recently graduated from the Shi’kar School of Communications, says, “you wish to connect to the USS Enterprise, correct?” 

“Yes, that’s right,” she says, and Stoltik nods. 

“Connecting now.” The screen flickers, and Lieutenant Uhura’s face appears. 

“Right on time, as usual!” She says cheerfully, “Good afternoon, Dr. Grayson. Ambassador.” 

“Hello, Nyota,” Amanda says as Sarek holds up the ta’al, “how have you been?”

“Pretty good, thanks for asking,” Uhura says, “I’m assuming you’re calling to talk to Spock, right?” Amanda nods. 

“If he’s available.”

“He is,” she assures, “besides, he always makes time for his mama.” She grins, and Amanda laughs. 

“He always was a mama’s boy, wasn’t he, Sarek?”

“Affirmative.” Indeed, as a child Spock had been prone to following his mother around whenever possible, little hands fisted in her skirts as she moved around the house. 

“I’ll put you through.”

“Thank you.” The screen flickers again, and Sarek has only a moment to wonder why the room code in the corner of the screen is different than usual before the face of Captain James T. Kirk is filling the screen. 

“Oh! Hi, Amanda!” Jim grins, moving back a little. He looks, Sarek thinks, terrible, but he is just as energetic as always.

“Hello Jim!” Amanda says, “Is Spock around?” 

“Yeah, he’s finishing up in the shower, I think,” he says, looking offscreen, “hey, Kevin! Aren’t you on-shift in five minutes?” There’s the sound of muffled cursing, then the woosh of an opening and closing door, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s no problem, dear,” she assures, “how have you been?” He snorts. 

“I’ve been better, to be honest,” Jim says, “we had a problem with the replicators the other day, which was...not fun.” 

“I’m sure,” Sarek winces internally. He is immensely glad that Spock and Jim have found one another again. It had been...difficult, after Spock had returned from Tarsus IV. His parental bond with his son is more stable than it has been in years. 

“Spock!” Jim calls towards somewhere offscreen, “come talk to your parents!” Spock appears on screen after a moment, toweling his hair dry.

“Hello, mother,” he says, then blinks, “Sa-mekh.” He sounds slightly startled, and more than a little confused. Sarek supposes that he cannot blame him. 

“Spock!” Amanda’s smile widens impossibly further, and she leans forward, “How are you, kan-bu?” 

“I am…” he sighs, “I am well, mother.”

“I’m glad,” she says, “you need to visit more often. Oh, and T’Pring sends her love!”

“She did not.”

“Well, she said that she hopes you’re well, but that’s close enough.” Spock sighs, but there’s the promise of a smile on his face. 

“We should call her later!” Jim calls from offscreen. 

T’Pring

She feels Spock’s distress, but decides to wait a few days before placing a subspace call. She finishes her research for the day before returning home, and Stoltik patches her through. 

“T’Pring,” Spock greets when he picks up. She nods. 

“Husband,” she says, “are you well?”

“Yes,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow, “I am, now.” 

“I am glad,” she can see Jim moving around behind him, green shirt slung over his shoulder, “hello, James.”

“Hey babe!” He calls, rummaging through a drawer. Spock turns to him.

“What are you looking for?” 

“My undershirt!” The captain says, throwing a pair of pants across the room, “I can’t find it!”

“You are welcome to borrow mine—”

“No, no,” Jim sighs, straightening and stretching his arms over his head, “it’ll be too long.” 

“I doubt that—”

“You’re a string bean, Spock,” he walks over and pokes Spock in the chest, “String. Bean.” T’Pring resists the urge to roll her eyes, and Jim grins at her, “How’s your research going?” 

“It is progressing,” she says, “I will be publishing my findings within the month.” 

“That’s great!” He cries, “What journal?”

“The Vuhlkansu Teraya Ek'tal Dunap,” she says. 

“We look forward to reading it,” Jim says, and Spock nods. The console beeps from their end. “Shit,” Jim says, “we have to go.” 

“I will speak with you soon,” T’Pring holds up a hand in the ta’al, “Live long and prosper.”

Jim Kirk

“Bridge,” Jim twists the handhold, and the turbolift begins to move. Beside him, Spock scrolls on his PADD, reading over and signing reports that Jim should probably get around to taking a look at. “Anything interesting?” Spock shakes his head.

“Negative,” he says, “I believe we have been given ‘busy work’ for the time being.”

“Pike’s fault, I bet.” Jim sighs, though he doesn’t really mind. It’s nice, though he’ll never admit it, to have someone looking out for them like that. 

“It is probable.” The turbolift doors open, and they step onto the bridge. Sulu stands, and Jim takes his center seat.

“So!” He says, settling in and looking around at his crew — his family — “What are we up to today?”