Spock held up a hand to stop the torrent of apologies that had been streaming from the High Councilman of Riidux III for the past five minutes. “Councilor, we accept your assurances that you meant no harm. The captain is still in our sickbay. When he recovers, he will contact you. Spock out.”
Spock cut the link. It had been hours since Jim had been beamed, still bleeding and unconscious, aboard the ship. Spock had remained on the bridge as acting captain during that time, busy with an influx of messages from Riidux III and Starfleet. He’d had no chance to analyze his own strange reactions on the planet’s surface. That would require meditation, which would have to wait until he was off-duty.
As Spock bent over a PADD, he heard the turbolift doors swish open. Every head on the bridge snapped up in an uncontrolled display of human hope -
Including his own.
“Keptin!” Chekov exclaimed delightedly.
Jim.
The captain was standing just in front of the lift, biting his lip and looking just a little shy at the brilliant, relieved smiles that lit up the faces of the humans in the room. He was endearingly rumpled, with messy hair and a loose hospital shirt that didn't quite hide the bandages on his chest. The arm that had been bitten was now wrapped in more white bandages and cradled against Jim’s chest in a sling.
Seeing Jim all bandaged up gave Spock a moment’s pause. “Are you certain you should be out of sickbay, Captain?”
Jim’s smile disappeared. “Bones knows I’m here." He clutched his arm closer to his chest, hunching in on himself. "I’m not breaking regulation.”
Sulu shot Spock a look that was just shy of insubordinate. “Don't worry, the rest of us are just glad you're alive," he said, turning back to Kirk.
Chekov nodded in agreement. “Yes, Keptin, ve vere so worried about you. Ve do not think you are breaking regulation by coming to bridge.”
Spock was drawn up short. “It was not my intention to imply that Captain Kirk was disobeying regulation," he said.
No one seemed to hear him.
He considered repeating himself, but decided against it. It would have been perfectly warranted for Spock to believe that Jim was violating regulation in this instance. Furthermore, considering how many times Spock had pointed out that Jim was not in line with regulation, it was a logical assumption for the crew to make from Spock's words. Clarification of his intentions would be superfluous.
But as he took in Jim's defensive posture and knew himself to be the cause of it, something in his mind twitched uncomfortably, and he had to check the urge to explain his words after all.
Jim tentatively smiled again – although at the others, not at Spock. “Uhura, please get me the High Councilman for Riidux III on screen.”
“Yes sir.” Nyota's eyes were relieved and warm. “And welcome back.”
Spock immediately vacated the captain's chair. Jim took his seat, perching on the edge so gingerly it made Spock wonder - with an inexplicable twisting in his gut - just how badly Jim was still bruised.
Moments later, the Councilman was back on the screen. “Captain Kirk! I am delighted to see you! I must again apologize – the mistake of an underling, unforgivable of course but he has been fired – you must accept our apologies.”
“Apology accepted, Councilor. Think no more of it.”
“So gracious! Nevertheless, please allow us to make amends."
Jim shifted slightly, but his face didn't betray a hint of the pain Spock suspected he still suffered. "What did you have in mind?"
"The Council would like to invite your crew to our planet for shoreleave as our honored guests.”
“That is very kind.” Jim looked intrigued by the offer. The Enterprise had already been scheduled to stay in orbit for three days, and Starfleet would likely be willing to grant the needed extra time to show they bore Riidux no ill will. The crew would be extremely pleased to have a real break, especially on a tourist planet, and Spock knew how important it was to Jim that his crew was happy and well-rested.
As he expected, Jim gracefully accepted the invitation. He bade the High Councilman goodbye, and then gave instructions that arrangements be made to beam the crew down in shifts over the next couple of days.
When Jim then stood and headed across the bridge to the lift, Spock followed him.
As Spock entered the lift with him, Jim seized up. There was a tense moment in which Jim seemed to be waiting for Spock to leave and Spock did no such thing. Finally, Jim reached out and pressed the button for the deck with officers' quarters. Spock saw that his hand was trembling.
As the doors closed, leaving them alone, Spock spoke. “You have my gratitude for saving my life,” he said, somewhat stiffly.
Jim seemed embarrassed. “No big deal," he said, looking straight forward and not at Spock. "Are you, uh…going to send that report to Starfleet about me?”
“Report?” Spock suddenly remembered the report he had threatened to send. Even though the report would have been logical and warranted, he no longer had any desire to send it. In fact, in the face of Jim's actions, his threat now seemed vaguely inappropriate. “No. No, I am not.”
Jim nodded slowly, fidgeting with his sling. “Great,” he said awkwardly. “Let’s just call it even and never talk about any of this again, okay?”
Spock did not think this was a logical course of action, nor did he think they were “even." He opened his mouth to say so, but the turbolift doors opened, and Jim darted out into the crowded corridor beyond like he couldn't get away from Spock fast enough.
Spock stared after his retreating figure, uncertain as to why his throat suddenly felt tight.
*****
Spock, back on the bridge in the captain's chair, stared at a PADD with the list of names assigned to the first shoreleave rotation on Riidux. The Council had insisted the captain beam down immediately and McCoy, predictably, was going with him.
In most circumstances Spock would have rejected the invitation for shore leave altogether. He would have remained in his preferred location, aboard the Enterprise, and engaged in lengthy meditation. It would have been logical, particularly as Nyota was not scheduled to take her leave until the final rotation. Yes, it was imminently logical to remain aboard.
He stared at the list of names, grouped by accommodation. The first room had three occupants assigned to it: Scott, Montgomery. McCoy, Leonard.
Kirk, James.
Spock stared at Jim's name a moment more. And then he reached out, typed in his First Officer override code, and added his own name to the first rotation. One more override, this time using a anonymous code, and he watched as the room assignments were shuffled and re-distributed, and he was assigned to Scotty's place in the same room as the captain and the doctor.
He stood up. "Mr. Sulu, you are in charge of the Enterprise for the next three days," he said, as he headed for the turbolift. "The Captain will relieve you when he returns from his leave."
Sulu's head whipped around from where he'd been talking to Chekov. "Sir?"
"I am beaming to the surface with the first rotation."
Sulu looked like Spock had just recited poetry. "Are you - are you taking shore leave?"
Spock didn't answer. Instead, he hit the button to close the turbolift doors. He had just enough time to catch an expression of confusion on Nyota's face before the lift doors closed. She clearly didn't understand what Spock was doing.
That made two of them.
*****
As Spock approached the transporter room, bag in hand, he overheard Jim and McCoy speaking in hushed tones.
"How the hell is that - that hobgoblin suddenly in our room? Last time I checked the damn roster, we were sharing with Scotty."
Jim's answering whisper was very strained. "I have no idea how it happened."
"You need rest, dammit, and you sure as hell won't get it with Spock around. Call the hotel and tell them to put him in his own room."
