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Title: The Flavor of Laughter, Part One Chapter Eleven (11/36)
Author: Brytewolf
Series: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~4,900
Genre: Adventure/Romance
Summary: He is Starfleet’s youngest captain. But he is untried, and inexperienced. What kind of captain will James Tiberius Kirk become? A story in three parts. Slow-building, will eventually be K/S.
Previous Chapter
Part One, Chapter One
Chapter Eleven
Surprisingly enough, the meeting actually goes well. The Vulcan High Council members, while not friendly, are certainly not as standoffish as they can be. Slowly, Kirk is able to focus on the task at hand and let the previous events fall to the background of his conscious. He can't do anything about it right now, and can't spare any attention to dwell.
So instead he focuses on what his ship can do for the Vulcan colonists. Digging through the lists of their supplies, he coordinates with the Council members to fill their most urgent needs. Thankfully, he only has to consider what he can do without until the next supply station, where the Enterprise can easily restock what is deemed necessary. The Vulcans' most pressing concern is sustenance, as none of their crops are grown enough to be harvested. Their vegetarianism makes the situation even more complicated. The local desert inhabitants are safe from being eaten, but it makes the problem of feeding ten thousand mouths more complex. Adding to that is the fact that Enterprise cannot possibly carry enough supplies to keep that many people alive for any significant period of time. After brainstorming on the situation for several hours, Kirk ends up being forced to determine how many replicators his crew can live without in the interim.
What he can't provide for them, they add to another list. This one is the supplies that need to be ferried on the Nebakanezer, the ship that is relieving the Enterprise and taking over the dual responsibilities of protecting the Vulcans and finishing the construction. So many things that the Vulcans could not bring on their first run, that they still desperately need to continue colonizing the planet.
Finally, a lull appears in the conversation. Participants cease chiming in with new ideas, as they all sit back contemplatively and consider the lists one last time. Kirk runs his fingers through his hair yet again, blinking to re-focus his eyes. They were relying mostly on the sunlight streaming through the open windows and doors, but now it is past dusk and the lamplight flickers far too frequently to be comfortable. He's sore, and exhausted, and really just wants the day to end.
He is not the only one. Spock, already distant when the meeting began, has not said a word in at least half an hour. The other Vulcans do not notice his lack of attention; he is, after all, typically quiet around them. But this is abnormally so, no comments here and there like Kirk is used to receiving from his First. Whenever Spock speaks up, it is vitally useful information, and Kirk finds himself floundering without those insights.
The Chairman takes a moment to look at each Council Member in the circle, gaining their confirmation. And then he clears his throat.
"Captain Kirk, it would appear as though this listing of our needs is complete. We can find nothing further to add, and will consider your task accomplished to its fullest."
As one, the Council rises from their chairs, giving him a nearly simultaneous nod in thanks. He blinks in his surprise – too tired to do more – as they file out one by one. The Chairman remains behind, for a moment, to say one more thing.
"Thank you, Captain, for agreeing to meet with us. It has assuaged the concerns that were voiced by some of us as to your competency."
This time, Kirk's eyebrows rise in surprise, and he can feel his jaw go slack. He's never, ever, heard of a Vulcan apologize for their opinions – and certainly not the Chairman of their ruling body.
Spock shoots him a look behind the Chairman's back, and Kirk quickly recovers his equilibrium and picks his jaw up off the floor, "Certainly, Chairman. It was the right thing to do, and I'm glad we could finish our task. If you need anything more from me before the ceremony, please don't hesitate to let me know."
The Chairman nods in understanding, "We will not." He turns to include Spock once again, "Good evening, gentlemen."
Then he is gone, leaving the two of them alone in the candlelight. Kirk rubs the base of his neck as an awkward silence settles uncomfortably over them. He glances over at Spock, who raises an eyebrow at him.
"Is there anything else that requires my assistance, Captain?"
A sigh, as Kirk looks down at the lists held in his hands. He still has to deliver instructions to the crew left aboard the Enterprise, and do the nightly rounds before he can return to the fire. Normally, Spock would join him on his trip…but Kirk suspects he won't be in the mood for socializing tonight. He is momentarily hit with a wave of melancholy, because he is comforted by Spock's presence – even in his silence – and doesn't want him to leave just yet.
"Well, I need to deliver these PADDs to beta shift on the Bridge, but other than that, I think I'm done for the evening." He turns his attention from the PADDs to Spock's face, completely expecting him to decline.
His friend takes a moment to consider, then surprises him with; "I have not been aboard the Enterprise in 7.85 days. I believe I will accompany you, if that is acceptable?"
Because he is paying attention, he sees the hint of – sadness – slip across Spock's face. There is also a definite feeling of anxiety emanating from his friend, as well. It causes a spike of worry to course through Kirk, overlaid with a sense of relief. He's not the only one who doesn't want to be alone; and if Spock doesn't want him to, Kirk certainly isn't going to leave his side.
"Of course, Spock. I'm always glad to have you with me." He tries to give his biggest smile, and tucks the PADDs away for safe keeping.
Spock takes a step forward, moving precisely into the range required for transporting two forms simultaneously. Kirk can almost feel the heat wafting off his warmer body, as the Vulcan taps his communicator to open a channel to the ship.
"Spock to bridge."
Silence for several breaths, and then the communicator crackles to life.
"Yes, Commander Spock?"
He frowns a little at the delay, but responds promptly, "Two to beam up."
They are both wrapped in a halo of light, before the tingle that signals transport envelopes them.
When they rematerialize, Kirk gasps in a breath, disoriented by the sudden change in surroundings. The stark interior of the ship is drastically different than what he has become familiarized with the last month, but as always he is relieved to be back. The difference between the baking heat of the planet and the comfortable climate-controlled coolness add to his body's confusion.
It doesn't seem that Spock is experiencing the same disorientation, as the Vulcan immediately steps off the platform and moves towards the door. Kirk experiences a sudden pang of regret at the loss of Spock's heat – that for a moment was so close. The unexpected reaction further disorients him, enough so that Spock notices his hesitation.
"Coming, Captain?" the Vulcan murmurs, pausing to wait. Kirk tells the funny little feeling to go away, before it confuses him further. With a nod to the tech manning the transporter station, he joins Spock and they stride from the room.
As expected, they don't pass anyone on the way. The minimal personnel left on the ship would not be wandering the hallways. Kirk assumes they are either seeing to their duties, or in the rec room enjoying some off time together.
They had arrived in one of the transporter rooms close to the Bridge, and it takes them no time at all to arrive at their destination. As they exit the turbolift, the skeleton crew of beta shift acknowledges their arrival.
"Captain Kirk, Commander Spock," greets the officer in charge, as he steps away from the command chair.
"Lieutenant Matthews." Kirk responds, inspecting the crew for signs of anything out of place. It is just as important, if not more so, that the people left on the Enterprise are not overly stressed, and are able to perform their tasks admirably. Thankfully, everyone is visibly relaxed and well-focused. Tension that he didn't know he carried eases out of his shoulders, "How is everything going up here?"
The Lieutenant shrugs his shoulders, eloquently expressing his opinion, "Everyone is performing their tasks excellently, Captain. Currently, there are no incidents to report and we only hope to make you proud of our abilities."
Kirk claps the officer on the shoulder, grinning to try to lighten Matthews' stiff mood. He can never stand it when his subordinates treat him so formally – it makes him feel old, and tired, and hidebound. "Great, great! You all are performing even better than I had hoped." A pause, as Kirk is glad he got that awkward bit out of the way; "Any news from Starfleet or the Nebakanezer?"
A shake of the head, as the man in front of him relaxes noticably, "No, sir. We expect contact any day now. Are the reports finished, sir, so we can transmit them?"
Kirk shoots a covert glance at Spock, but the Vulcan hasn't seemed to notice the mention of reports. The Vulcan is distracted, involved in a conversation with the officer currently manning the science station, his hands clasped loosely behind his back.
"I'll have those finished soon, Lieutenant. I actually had something else to discuss with you, which is why we're here." Hurriedly, he changes the subject before Spock learns of the reports.
He pulls the PADDs out and hands them over to his subordinate, explaining as he does so, "These are the lists of resources and equipment the Vulcans need. This top one is what we need to leave behind for them when we depart, and this one –" he points at the requisite PADD, "Needs to be transmitted to the Nebakanezer so they can bring those supplies with them."
"Aye, sir. I can get that finished right now; the crew at the communications station in Earth Spacedock has been waiting for these." Matthews takes possession of the PADDs, and trots over to the communications officer. The PADD in question changes hands once again, as the Lieutenant details what's required. Once his orders are understood, the officer turns back to his station and begins the transmission.
Matthews returns with the PADD meant for the ship and her crew, scrolling through it as he walks, "As for this one, I'll drop it off at Engineering at the end of my shift. The night crew consists of one person, and she's usually occupied doing random things. Commander Scott is scheduled to beam up tomorrow for maintenance, and I'll make sure he gets hold of this."
He comes to stand in front of Kirk, who nods noncommittally. His duty has been completed, and he can try to relax now, "Sounds great. I'm hoping it'll give you an interesting last couple of days, at least."
The lieutenant returns the nod, his attention still on the PADD before him, "Understood, sir. We'll try to get as much of this ready as possible before the transition takes place. Is there anything else you needed from us, for now?"
Taking one last look around the Bridge, Kirk shakes his head, "Not that I can think of. If anything turns up, I'll be sure to communicate it to you. You're free to go back to your duties."
Matthews salutes, and returns to his position in the command chair. Kirk suppresses a twitch at someone else in his seat, but resolutely silences the sharp remark on the tip of his tongue. After all, Matthews has to have access to the computer systems, and there are no other panels available. But that doesn't mean it doesn't rankle.
Steadfastly ignoring what he can't change, he instead wanders over to stand near Spock. The Vulcan is still deeply involved in his conversation with the Science Officer on duty, but acknowledges Kirk's presence with a slight signal of his fingers.
Kirk settles down to wait, giving Spock what patience he has. Thankfully, the Vulcan only takes a moment before he gives his attention to his commanding officer. Drawing Kirk with him, he steps away from where they can be easily overheard by the crew.
"I do not know if you had any other duties aboard the Enterprise requiring your attention at this time." he says softly, his deep voice lowering even further so as not to carry. It thrums through Kirk, and he has to focus on the words being said, "But it has been brought to my attention that there is a minor difficulty being experienced by the technicians in one of the laboratories. The situation requires my support for several hours, so I unfortunately must abstain from our nightly excursions around the campgrounds."
Considering the new information, Kirk rubs the muscles at the back of his neck. There is not, currently, any stiffness or soreness there, but the habit helps him think. After the events of earlier today, the thought of rounds is too much for him to bear at the moment, too. He is done with the duties that brought him to the Bridge, but he has several other things he can busy himself with in the meantime. A flicker of inspiration, as he remembers something he saw quite some time ago. Perhaps he could persuade Spock to spend some more time with him after all.
"I didn't expect to be able to do the nightly rounds today, either." he checks the timepiece before continuing, "I have an idea, Spock. Do you think you'll be done helping the lab within, say, three hours?"
"Most assuredly, Captain."
"Then I propose that we meet in the rec room at 2200 hours for a friendly game of chess. You do like chess, don't you?" The statement that starts confidently trails into a tentative question, as Kirk hopes he hasn't overstepped the boundaries Spock has clearly defined for everyone. He's taking a big gamble, as Spock never seems to socialize with anyone but Uhura. But he's resting his chance on the intuition that Spock doesn't seem to want to be alone, and that Spock will actually know how to use the chessboard Kirk saw him carrying quite some time ago.
The Vulcan's head tilts quite dramatically – for him – to the side, and he blinks slowly before answering, "Indeed, it is a pastime that I engage in at regular intervals. I believe it would be agreeable if we were to meet at the designated time."
He has to resist the urge to scrunch his nose at the language used, but the words break through the sadness clinging to his insides. He can't help the genuine, blinding smile that suffuses his features, "Great, I'll meet you there!"
Regarding him for a moment more, Spock gets a thoughtful look in his eyes as he mentions, "Perhaps you could spend the interim diligently applying yourself to the reports requested by Starfleet regarding our time here?"
A rush of blood to his cheeks, and ears. So the Vulcan had overheard the comment made by Matthews. Kirk is surprised when his grin doesn't diminish; "You have a point there. I think I will, while I have the free time."
The sorrow lurking in the back of Spock's eyes lessens, serving to brighten Kirk's grin further, as he replies; "Excellent, Captain. Then, until later."
Returning Spock's nod with a slight wave of his own, he watches the Vulcan disappear into the turbolift. He turns around, the grin still plastered on his face, to see the Science Officer giving him a curious look.
"Anything you need, Ensign?" he asks, wondering what has caught her attention.
"N-nothing, Captain." She responds hurriedly, scrambling back to the work at her station. A furrow appears between his brows as he considers her strange actions, then he shrugs them off. If it had been important, she would have said something.
Mentally checking off a list, he narrows it down until he finds the best place to work uninterrupted. He surprises himself with an actual desire to do the reports that Starfleet is requiring of him. Kirk shakes his head, putting it down to too much running around and not enough resting. This last month really has worn him raw, and he can see how he could relish some not-moving for a bit.
Vaguely, he remembers that there is some sort of a desk set up in his personal quarters. He's only actually spent one night inside the captain's rooms, and he didn't have much time to look around. That had been the night he'd stayed up terribly late going over the air current charts with Chekov, and he'd had barely enough energy to get back to his rooms before he had passed out on his bed. But he does remember stubbing his toe on the leg of a straight-backed chair – and cursing effusively – and if a chair exists there most certainly must be a table or a desk of some sort to go with it.
"Keep up the great work!" he calls to Matthews, as he enters the turbolift and the doors close behind him. Mesmerized again by the still-sparkling interior of his lady, he brushes his fingertips along the sides of the turbolift. Her hum greets his questing fingers, and he smiles. A soft whisper tells her what he needs, and the lift begins moving towards the requisite deck.
"Did you miss me, girl? I won't be gone much longer." Being here, in this ship, is where he was always meant to be.
He whistles softly to himself, a cheerful little tune he only remembers in snatches. Focused on the task ahead of him, he has no time to wonder what caused his sudden happiness.
(*)
When the alarm goes off, telling him it's time to go to the rec room, he's amazed that the hours have passed already. He stretches and blinks, as he focuses his tired eyes on something other than the PADD he's been staring at for several hours. An involuntary groan escapes his lips as his back pops in several places. Old injuries expressing distaste at being in such a cramped, uncomfortable position for so long.
Careful, he makes sure he saves all of his work properly before tucking the PADD away in a safe place. He needs to make sure that nothing happens to his progress, as he actually managed to get quite a lot accomplished. Smug happiness suffuses him momentarily as he considers all he's finished in such a short amount of time. Spock isn't the only one that can get things done; Kirk just needs a little more motivation when it comes to paperwork.
As he stands, he rolls his shoulder to clear it of the residual stiffness. He had found his desk – complete with terminal and a stack of waiting PADDs – tucked away in the corner of his quarters. This fact has brought him some confusion, as he is not quite sure how he'd managed to stub his toe on the way to his bed. The offending chair, and the desk it belongs to, is beautifully carved from actual wood. Kirk is amazed by the expense of one item that will never be seen or used by anyone but himself. The desk reminds him again that he is serving on the flagship of the entire Fleet, and that everything contained inside is the best Starfleet can offer.
He runs his hand over the fine grain of the chair back, smiling softly to himself. It is part of her, and as such, should never be anything but the best. Then he turns his gaze to the rest of the quarters; the plump bedding, sleek furnishings and comparatively palatial bathing room. Undoubtedly, this is the best room he's ever had a chance to visit. And it's all his, and will be for five years if he gets his wish. Amazement fills him as he remembers, again, how far he's come from the little boy he was. And how much he's suffered; how hard he's worked for it these last three years.
But he has stalled long enough, and doesn't want Spock waiting for him. Or worse, thinking he changed his mind. A flutter-bump of nervous tension passes through his heart, and he can't locate the source. The feeling is foreign to him, and he pushes the strangeness to the side as he exits the rooms and makes his way down the hall – chessboard in hand.
Arriving – as planned – ahead of Spock, he claims one of the smaller tables in the back corner. There is a sprinkling of other crew already in the room, but they simply greet their captain and leave him in peace.
With sure fingers he sets up the board, positioning it in the exact center of the little table. He places the black figures on his side, and the white pieces on Spock's. It has been several years since he's played a game of chess, and he's a little rusty on the strategies. It'll be much easier to react to Spock's moves than to lead the initial attack.
The Vulcan arrives just as he finishes arranging the last piece. Spock seats himself with a nod of greeting, inspecting the board before him.
"Interesting. I had assumed you would have chosen white for yourself." He murmurs, eyes rising from the board to inspect Kirk just as intensely.
Kirk returns the gaze with his customary grin, hoping to bluff Spock away from the truth, "I figured I'd shake things up a bit. And I thought you could use an advantage."
The eyebrow is raised, as the sorrow retreats a bit from the dark eyes, "Fascinating. We shall see if your attitude is an appropriate response to your skill, or if it is more bravado than substance."
Bluff called. Kirk hides an inward groan, as he dredges up everything he can remember about chess. Back in the day he used to be an excellent player, but over the years the skills may have diminished. He'll just have to hope they haven't fallen too far, and can be resurrected quickly.
He doesn't let his grin falter as he returns Spock's assessing look. If he suspects, it's best to keep him guessing. An idea tickles the edge of his consciousness, and he pauses to consider for a moment.
"How about this, Spock; we'll put a wager on my skill." he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back to portray his confidence.
The eyebrow raises still further, real humor lurking in the depths of those dark eyes and eclipsing any grief, "And what is your proposition?"
Kirk reaches out and grasps one of the pawns before him, twisting it between his fingers as his plan leaps fully formed into his mind, "If I beat you, you have to play chess with me every day."
"And if I am the victor?"
"And if you beat me," Kirk responds, his grin crinkling around the edges, "You'll get the pleasure of teaching me that Vulcan martial arts style."
Genuine surprise slackens the lines around Spock's mouth and eyes, "Suus mahna? What benefit would instructing you in suus mahna serve to either you or myself?"
"I will get to learn an entirely awesome fighting style. And you will get security in the knowledge that during my away missions I am properly prepared to defend myself in the most logical of fashions. You get peace of mind, and I get to stay alive!" Kirk has been dying to learn since he first discovered its existence aboard the Narada, and it seems like a perfectly good excuse to bring it up. He's disappointed that, unfortunately, the odds are it's a futile attempt. There's no way Spock will see that as a worthwhile wager for himself.
"But you are already proficient in several Earth combat styles." the Vulcan points out.
"I was good enough to be given the assistant instructor position for the advanced hand-to-hand combat lessons." Kirk adds, not bragging – too much. He scratches his head as he looks down at the chess board, admitting; "But I would like to learn your fighting technique. I don't know any other style that can take down five opponents that quickly, and in that efficient of a manner."
"That is logical. I accept your wager." Spock says.
"Well, if you don't like that wager, what would you want instead?" Kirk grumbles, not looking at Spock. And then the words register, and he jerks his head up to look Spock in the eyes, "W-what?"
"I stated that I consent to your terms. The competition is agreeable."
Shaking himself to clear the surprise, he lets out a grin. "Great! Are you ready for me to win?"
"We shall see who comes out the victor, Captain."
A companionable silence settles over them, as their attention is drawn to the game. Kirk watches Spock's moves, trying to get a feel again for how the game goes, and specifically how the Vulcan plays. As expected, Spock's play style is very concise and purposeful. Kirk tries to build counter-tactics, but he knows he's mixing together half-remembered bits of different strategies. What little plan he's able to construct is flimsy at best, but at least he seems to be giving Spock a bit of a challenge. Whether it's because of his previous skill in the game, or the randomness of his approach, he's not able to tell.
The silence sharpens as Kirk's competitive edge asserts itself, aggravation building as he is forced to abandon one of the tentative strategies he put in place and start an offensive. A spark of intuition, and he sees. If he moves his queen here Spock would make the logical choice and capture her with his bishop, leaving this open and…checkmate.
He glances up to observe Spock's reaction as he shifts his queen to her vulnerable location. A slight crease appears between the Vulcan's brows, marring the otherwise flawless skin. He returns his sight to the board quickly, quickly, before Spock can notice – willing the other not to see. Kirk's gambling with this strategy, but if it works the sacrifice will be worth it.
After a slight hesitation, Spock's tapered fingers pick up the bishop to capture Kirk's defenseless queen.
"Check." he murmurs in his quiet voice, a hint of confusion coloring the tone.
Without comment, Kirk shifts his knight to defend his king. So far things are going as he hopes, and Spock does not appear to see through his admittedly limited strategy.
Several tense moves later, and the unthinkable occurs.
"Checkmate!" Kirk crows, his grin back in full force. He raises his eyes from the chessboard, to stare into the dark eyes of his opponent. Surprisingly to Kirk, there is no anger in those eyes; only the hint of amusement that was there when the game began.
"Fascinating." Spock responds, as he rests his king on its side, signifying defeat, "It would appear that, as usual, your words are matched by your abilities. Though I would indicate that I have never seen those stratagems before…where did you say that you received your instruction in the game?"
Ignoring the question completely, Kirk is stunned as warmth spreads outward from his core, "Spock…did you just compliment me?"
The Vulcan's hands pause in their resetting of the board, then continue their progress, "It would appear so. Considering the circumstances, a compliment is the requisite response."
The grin that appears is the largest he's ever had, his delight clearly visible for the Vulcan to witness, "Thanks, Spock. That means a lot."
Spock blinks, and then resumes setting up the chessboard for a rematch.
"You are welcome."
In mutual, unspoken agreement they begin another game.
A/N: Cause it had to happen eventually. You know, the chess game XD
And on another note, ONLY ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT IN PART ONE!! Are you excited?!? I know I am!!!
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