Chapter Text
It started small.
Despite the lack of specificity, Spock found the phrase applicable to his... predicament.
The Enterprise had been on a basic star-mapping mission in the Lorentian system for eight days, after a rather uneventful foray into the Kuiper belt to investigate a possible source of dilithium. It was 24.786 minutes until the end of Alpha shift, and the Captain had been tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair in no discernable pattern for the last 9.923 minutes.
It was not as though that was an unusual human behavior. It was especially not so in Captain Kirk, whom Spock had noted had a certain proclivity for extraneous movement. It was likely that Jim was simply bored and looking for an outlet for his frustration, considering their relatively benign missions of late.
Spock suddenly realized he had not been paying attention to the readouts the science station had been giving out for approximately 2.34 minutes. He quickly turned back to face the station, away from the Captain. In the back of his mind he noted that Jim immediately ceased his tapping.
“Mister Spock!”
Spock looked up from negotiating with the replicator about the accuracy of the plomeek soup program to see the Captain waving at him from across the mess deck. He was seated with Doctor McCoy, Lieutenant Uhura, and Commander Scott, and was gesturing for Spock to join them for lunch.
It was 5 months into the Enterprise’s unprecedented five year mission, and Spock still primarily took his lunch in the labs. It was more efficient, he’d reasoned, as it allowed him to continue to monitor his less hands on experiments during time he would otherwise have spent idle. The Captain often chided him for being antisocial, and urged him to take lunch with the rest of the bridge crew, but Spock as yet had not found sufficient reason to do so.
Jim smiled. None of Spock’s current experiments required his presence today, anyway.
Spock was contemplating his joint studies with Lieutenant Sulu of some of the local flora present on the Enterprise’s most recent assignment as he waited for the turbolift to reach the deck his quarters were located on, when the turbolift doors opened to reveal the Captain frowning at a PADD. He glanced up and, upon seeing Spock, broke into a wide smile.
“Mister Spock! Are you busy?”
Spock considered the reading he had been planning on continuing in his quarters. He decided that his duties as First Officer superseded that of Science Officer. “Not at present,” he replied evenly.
Kirk moved into the turbolift and took the controls. He seemed to consider his tablet again, and Spock was thankful for Jim’s momentary distraction, as it kept him from noticing when Spock’s gaze dipped down to his lips. He considered how they were tinged pink instead of green.
Their eyes met again. The Captain’s were a particularly bright shade of honey brown. The color was common among both Vulcans and humans, and Spock wondered why he felt it worth noting. “How about a friendly game of three dimensional chess in the rec room?” Kirk was saying, “do you play?
Spock was… surprised. “I do. I admit, I did not expect you to play. I am, however, not certain you will enjoy a match against me,” he replied. The Captain’s eyes narrowed.
“Oh, and why not?” Jim asked. Spock noted that he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as if expecting some kind of blow.
Spock pointedly stared ahead at the turbolift doors. “Because I have observed you have a particular distaste for losing.”
Jim barked out a startled laugh. His eyes flashed with something Spock was unable to decipher, and, as the turbolift doors opened on the recreation deck, he teased, “Oh, you’re on.”
Jim touched his ears an inordinate amount when concentrating.
Spock lost two of three matches.