Series: ST XI
Word Count: ~2845
Disclaimer: They're not mine, unfortunately.
Notes: Written for this prompt @ st_xi_kink_meme. Title taken from an I Am Kloot song.
Thanks to darkqueenmeg for being my sounding board.
Summary: After a transporter incident, de-aged Spock Prime is left in the care of Jim Kirk. Nu Spock becomes illogically jealous of Spock Prime. De-aged fluff fic.
“Captain, still no word from Ambassador Sarek.”
Communication between the Enterprise and the embassy on New Vulcan had been constant and frantic since a five year old Vulcan boy had shown up on the transporter pad more than an hour earlier.
The crew had been expecting Ambassador Spock, the elder, and were shocked to be confronted with a five year old version of the man. The customary greetings had been replaced, first by frantic shouts and then by hushed voices meant to calm the confused child.
“Do you know who you are?” Jim had asked, crouching down beside the boy.
The tiny version of the Ambassador had answered immediately, “I am Spock of Vulcan.”
“Yes, that's right. Now, tell me Spock, do you know where you are?”
The young child looked closely at Jim, before slowly glancing around the transporter room. His eyes paused on Scotty and the ensign who still sat behind the controls, before moving to the other figures in the room. His gaze stopped completely when he spotted the other Spock who was a younger, though now technically older, version of himself. The child's brow furrowed for a moment, as he eyed Spock with suspicion, before his gaze returned to Jim.
“This room and these people seem familiar to me, but I am unable to state my location.”
“You're on the Enterprise,” Jim said quietly. “Do you know what that is?”
Young Spock cautiously shook his head.
“Do you know who I am?”
The child seemed to consider Jim for a moment before speaking. “Your face is familiar to me, however I regret that I am unable to identify you.”
“My name is Jim.”
“Captain, we've received word from the embassy. Ambassador Sarek is currently in the Ortalyon System. He isn't expected to return for another three weeks, and reports say he is currently out of communication range.”
“Thank you lieutenant.”
It had been almost three hours since the young Ambassador had arrived in the transporter room, and he was sitting quite contentedly at the desk in Jim's quarters, formulating and solving math equations on a PADD. Every so often he would tilt the screen towards Jim, waiting for a response, and each time Jim would just nod and smile. That seemed to please the young Vulcan, and he would return to his calculations.
Jim eyed him thoughtfully for a few minutes, pondering the situation. The only feasible option was to send young Spock back to New Vulcan to be kept under the watchful eye of Sarek. He was technically the boy's father, and Jim figured Sarek would see the logic in the situation. However, he hadn't expected Sarek to be off-planet, let alone out of communication range.
He continued watching Spock, attempting to comprehend the idea that the Vulcan child was the same man who had rescued him in a cave on Delta Vega seven months earlier. The elderly Vulcan with the kind eyes, one of the first people to truly believe in Jim, was currently a five year old child sitting in Jim Kirk's quarters happily typing away on a PADD.
He made up his mind then, there was no way in hell he was sending the kid back to New Vulcan without a friend or family member to take care of him.
“Spock,” he said quietly, and the young child glanced up immediately from his PADD.
“Would you like to stay here for awhile?”
Young Spock looked down at the PADD, and then glanced around the room before nodding. “I believe that would be acceptable.”
Jim grinned and paged his yeoman to his quarters.
“He'll need a cot, and maybe some toys. Something scientific. Some books. What do Vulcan kids read?”
Jim was rambling off a list of necessities as his yeoman took notes.
“Clothes too. What size do most five year olds wear? Just try out a few sizes and see, I guess.”
The yeoman moved to the replicator, pushing buttons and piling up the items as they began to appear.
“Any specifics on the clothing, sir?”
Jim shrugged, “I don't know. Similar to what he's wearing now, I guess. Brown?”
Jim looked at young Spock for a moment, frowning as he considered the child's current drab outfit.
The yeoman paused, turning to silently await orders.
“Spock, what color do you like?”
The child didn't even hesitate in his reply. “Science blue.”
Spock's answer seemed to surprise even himself.
Jim laughed. “Science blue it is.”
The yeoman turned back to the replicator just as Jim was struck with a brilliant idea.
Spock did his best to suppress a frown as he saw his captain and the tiny Vulcan child heading towards him in the corridor. Jim was walking a little slower than normal, and young Spock was walking quickly in an attempt to keep up. The child's hand was clutching the bottom of Jim's gold uniform shirt, and he was clad in a tiny blue Science uniform.
“Captain,” the older Spock said icily. “What is the child wearing?”
Jim grinned. “Funny, right?”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “I do not believe 'funny' is the correct term for this situation.”
Young Spock eyed the older Spock for a moment before taking a step back to hide behind Jim.
“Come on, Spock. You have to admit, it's pretty cute.”
“It is neither funny, nor cute. That child is not an officer on board this ship.”
Jim laughed as he rolled his eyes. “Relax, no one's going to mistake him for an officer. Besides, he was an officer on board this ship at one point--”
“He was not an officer on this ship,” Spock stated loudly, glaring at the child behind Jim's leg.
Young Spock peered from behind Jim and stuck his tongue out at the older Spock.
“Insolence.” Spock whispered, as the frown continued its threat.
“Spock, he's just a little kid,” Jim said, laughing again. “And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're jealous.”
The frown finally escaped, just for a moment, before Spock's face returned to its usual neutral expression. “Captain, I can assure you that is not the case. Jealousy is an emotion, and is therefore intrinsically illogical.”
Jim didn't reply, he simply stared at Spock with a smirk on his face.
Spock stared back. “I am not jealous.”
Jim just grinned.
“Ahead, warp factor two, Mister Sulu!”
The tiny voice rang out from the Captain's chair, where young Spock sat on Jim Kirk's knee.
“Yes, Captain,” Sulu responded, playing along with the game.
A noticeable sigh was heard from Spock's station, but he kept his back to the Captain and the miniature version of himself.
Jim spun his chair to face Spock's station. “Something wrong, Mister Spock?”
Spock turned abruptly, looking from Jim to young Spock and back to Jim again.
“Just thought I heard a sigh from over there.”
“You are incorrect. I must, however, express my disapproval at the presence of a child on the bridge. Regulation states that the presence of minors on the bridge is expressly forbidden, unless they are a member of Starfleet.”
Jim looked down at the tiny child sitting on his lap. “Well, he's technically a member of Starfleet.”
Spock couldn't help the frustrated sigh that escaped him. He furrowed his brow, and Jim watched, amused, as the gears turned inside Spock's head.
Finally he replied, “It is unprofessional to have a member of Starfleet sitting upon your lap while you are on duty.”
Jim grinned, but he knew Spock had him beat. “Good point, Mister Spock.”
Spock appeared almost pleased as he turned his attention back to his station.
Jim lifted the young Vulcan from his lap, and lowered him to the floor. “Well, my young co-Captain, looks like your duties are over for today.”
Young Spock stood patiently, waiting for Jim to rise so he could latch onto the hem of his shirt. Then they walked across the bridge together, heading for the turbo lift. As they walked, the young child glanced back at the turned back of the older Vulcan.
It took four days for the older Spock to show up at the door to Jim's quarters with his chessboard in hand.
Jim had been spending all of his off-duty hours with the younger Spock, giving him tours of the ship, letting him explore the music and recreation rooms, and even bringing him to the mess hall during meals.
While Jim was on-duty, young Spock was left in the care of Jim's yeoman, but when Jim was off-duty he focused all his attention on the young child.
So, at 21:00 hours on the fourth day, Jim was surprised to find the older Spock outside his door.
“Would you be interested in a game of chess, Jim?” Spock seemed apprehensive, and almost apologetic, as he held the chessboard under his arm.
Jim smiled widely, standing aside to let Spock enter.
Spock glanced around the room as he made his way to Jim's desk. His eyes paused on the cot set up just outside Jim's sleeping quarters. The bed was neatly made, and empty, and a tiny stuffed sehlat sat on the pillow.
“Where is the child?” Spock asked casually, as he set up the board.
“Brushing his teeth, I think” Jim responded, pointing towards the bathroom door. The door was open a crack, and the soft sound of running water could be heard.
“Is it not past his bedtime?”
Jim laughed. “He sort of sets his own bedtime. He seems pretty logical about it, knowing how much sleep he needs, and recognizing when he feels tired. It's pretty awesome. I've never seen a kid like that.”
Spock seemed to fight back a smile for a moment as he sat in one of the desk chairs. “Well, Jim, he is Vulcan.”
Jim nodded as he took a seat across from Spock. “That he is.”
They were barely two moves into the game when the running water stopped, and the tiny Vulcan exited the bathroom.
He made his way over to the desk, and stood silently, watching the two adults.
Spock made a move, which Jim countered quite easily, causing Spock to ponder his next move for several minutes.
As the older Spock considered the board, the younger Spock watched him quietly before reaching his hand up to point at a piece. Spock's eyes flicked to the child, silently threatening him to keep his hands off the board.
Spock ignored the piece the child was attempting to point to, and moved a piece on the opposite side of the board. Jim countered it again, quite quickly, and Spock let out a loud rush of breath through his nose.
“If I were you--” the child began, again attempting to point to the board.
“You are not me.”
Young Spock raised an eyebrow at the older Vulcan, and the two Spocks stared at each other for a moment.
“Come on, Spock,” Jim finally said, interrupting the silent stand-off. The child moved closer, and allowed himself to be picked up and placed on Jim's lap.
Spock finally made his move again.
“That one,” young Spock said, pointing to one of Jim's pieces.
Jim made his move, and Spock was once again left to ponder his next move.
“He takes the game quite seriously,” the child said to Jim after a few minutes had passed.
“Yes, he does.” Jim replied.
“I am not sure why, since you seem to be more skilled at this game.”
Spock's head snapped up to stare at the young child. “Shouldn't you be in bed?”
Jim bit his lip, stifling a laugh.
For two weeks Spock made a point of appearing at Jim's door, chessboard in hand, at precisely 22:00 hours every night. He had determined that young Spock would already be in bed and sound asleep, which would assure the older Spock uninterrupted face time with Jim.
Jim didn't complain, or question Spock's motives. On the contrary, he enjoyed spending the day with one version of Spock, and the evening with another. The two were very different beings, but as time went on he began to recognize similarities between them. The way they stood, exceptionally straight and still, with their hands clasped behind their backs. The way they pondered things, and contemplated their words before they spoke. And they way they looked at Jim, this illogical human, with masked wonder and amusement.
Jim couldn't deny the twinge of disappointment, then, when Scotty paged him with the news that the transporter malfunction had been identified and repaired, and they could beam the Ambassador back to New Vulcan in the morning.
The child had taken the news well, accepting the situation quite logically, and understanding that he would be returning to his home and his life, even though he currently had no real memory of that life.
As Jim set up the chessboard on young Spock's last night, the older Spock's eyes traveled over the room, passing the sleeping child in the corner, and settling upon something he had failed to notice before – a tiny ant farm sat on a table at the foot of the young Spock's bed.
“An ant colony?” Spock asked quietly.
Jim glanced up, and over to the table. “Oh yeah, Sulu helped me set it up a few days ago. I thought it would be fun for Spock. Like a little science experiment and a pet, rolled into one.”
Spock rose from the chair and made his way over to the table, kneeling quietly to examine the glass case. Tunnels had already formed, and tiny ants could be seen crawling over the dirt, dragging the bits of replicated apple and lettuce young Spock had fed them earlier that day.
Spock was so busy watching the ants, he failed to notice the small sleepy figure who had emerged from the bed, and was now standing beside him.
“Jim says I am leaving in the morning,” the child said quietly, and Spock jumped slightly at the voice.
“That is correct.”
Young Spock nodded, watching the ants inside the glass.
“Will you care for my ants after I leave?”
Spock was stunned into silence. He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again.
The child leaned closer to Spock, and whispered, “I would ask Jim, but I am afraid he might accidentally leave the lid open. I would not want them to escape and get lost.”
Spock turned to look at the small child, before turning his gaze back to the ant farm.
Young Spock nodded, apparently pleased with the answer.
“Will you be there tomorrow, when I leave?”
There was a pause before Spock replied. His voice was quiet, “if you would like me to, I will be there.”
The child allowed himself a slight smile. “I would like it.”
He leaned closer to the older Spock again, and whispered, “and I think Jim will need you there.”
It turned out Jim did need Spock there, as they stood in the transporter room waiting for Scotty to align the controls.
His eyes threatened tears as he bent down to hug the small Vulcan child.
After hugging Jim, young Spock turned to the older Spock, reaching out. Spock knelt down, and allowed the child to wrap his arms around him, and he returned the gesture somewhat awkwardly.
“Illogical,” Spock said quietly, unable to stop himself.
“Indeed,” young Spock replied, giving Spock one last squeeze.
They watched the young child step bravely onto the transporter pad, and they watched him beam out.
And Jim may or may not have shed a few tears, and Spock may or may not have been sorry to see the young Vulcan leave.
Long after the rest of the crew had left, Jim still stood silently in the transporter room, as if expecting the child to return.
Spock stood silently by his side, waiting, and watching Jim.
Finally he spoke. “You will miss him.”
Jim smiled, laughing quietly, “of course. I got kind of used to having him around.”
“You care for him.”
“Is that why you wanted him to stay on the Enterprise? Why you offered to care for him when my father was unavailable?”
There was silence, and then Jim turned to face Spock. He studied the Vulcan for a moment, before he reached out to take his hand and pull them closer together.
“I couldn't send him back there all alone. I offered to take care of him because I care for Ambassador Spock. And I offered to take care of him because he's you. He's you and he's not you, both at the same time.
“I am not the Ambassador.”
“I know that.” Jim said quietly. He leaned in to kiss Spock softly, before pulling him in for a hug.
“He's a Spock, and I care for him. But you're my Spock.”
Spock smiled against Jim's neck. He knew it was illogical, but this time he didn't mind.