Trial Run (K/S) Pt 1 of 2

[gilda_elise]

Title: Trial Run
Fandom: Star Trek (TOS)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Notes: When asked to write a story from a list of K/S tropes for the ultimately five volume history of K/S, it wasn’t hard for me to pick the one that’s a particular favorite of mine—Academy stories. Kirk and Spock “Before the Glory.”

Originally published in Legacy: A Tribute to the 30th Anniversary of K/S - Vol 2 by Beyond Dreams Press (July 2007)




Trial Run




“It has been our way since the time of the beginning.”

And so it must always be?

“For you to do this would bring dishonor, not just to this family but to Vulcan.”

Why is it dishonorable to seek my own path?

“A place has already been found for you.”

But it will not be MY place.

“You cannot refuse; I forbid it.”

Spock raise his head. He had kept it bowed as he listened to Sarek’s diatribe, the one he had known would come once he informed his father of his plans to join Starfleet. He had not been disappointed.

Sarek stood just inside the doorway. His displeasure, his disapproval, would not be easily read by another. But Spock had been on the receiving end of both too many times to be fooled by the placid expression his father wore. There would be no victory here; all Spock could hope for was an uneasy truce.

“I have already been accepted by Starfleet. Would you have me go back on my word to them?”

“You gave something which was not yours to give. I am sure Starfleet will be most cooperative in releasing you from your contract once they have been made aware of your situation.”

“Which situation do you refer to? That I am to be denied the right to pilot the course of my own life?” Spock stood and clasped his hands behind his back, not wanting Sarek to see how little control he had over them. The tremors, slight though they were, he told himself were due to the anger he had often had trouble controlling; there was, after all, nothing to fear. “I had hoped...I had thought you would see the logic in my leaving, you who have been witness to so much that proves my place is not here.”

“You would let those who deny you are Vulcan drive you from your home? Your birthright? I thought I had instilled greater courage in you.”

Spock almost flinched. Since persuasion had clearly not worked, Sarek had turned to using Spock’s own insecurities against him. Now, not only was he not a true Vulcan, he was also a coward. Behind his back, his hands clenched into fists. “I do not fear Vulcan, Father. I fear losing that part of myself which is Vulcan.”

“You speak in riddles.”

He shook his head in that slight movement that had always marked him as not all Vulcan. “You cannot understand what it is to be both Vulcan and human. My biology is both, yet neither. My mind battles against itself, one thought in direct contradiction to the other, and my body hungers for that which no Vulcan’s would.”

“So, you go to Earth to assuage that hunger?”

“No!” Spock bit his lower lip. “No. I do not understand these urges, any more than I understand the thoughts that crowd out the logic I have been taught is the true way. But I will not learn to understand any of this here. I need to comprehend who and what I am.”

“You are Vulcan. And you have it within you to control these aberrations of thought...and appetites,” Sarek added, distastefully.

It was no use. Sarek would never condone his leaving. “I am leaving, Father. Do not try to stop me.”

Sarek gazed at him for long minutes. Finally, he spoke. “You may leave when you wish. I no longer have no son.”

Spock concentrated on his father’s footsteps as Sarek turned and walked away. When all he could hear was his own breath, drawing in and out in a regular and unruffled rhythm, he walked over to the tall wardrobe in the corner. Opening the doors wide, he pulled out the large valise at the bottom and began to pack.

^^^^^^^^

Spock stood at his bedroom window; it would not do to miss the aircar he had hired to take him to the spaceport. His bags sat near the doorway.

It had taken little time; a few change of clothing, even fewer personal items, fit easily into the two pieces of luggage. His absence from this house would barely be noticed.

He lowered his head in shame, knowing how unfair he was being to she who was his mother. He knew she would miss him, no matter that their relationship was only a little less complicated than that with his father. But she, at least, had tried to understand that he was not as others were and that he was more than a marred copy of Sarek. She had always tried, struggling to understand even as that understanding slipped away, her son becoming more alien to her as the years went by.

In his mind’s eye he saw himself as he had been as a very small boy, the human side of him still strong enough for him to fall prey to her warm embraces and words of comfort. Even then he had known to hide such lapses from his disapproving father. His mother had been an uneasy ally and co-conspirator; no matter what her husband wished, she had never found the strength to push Spock away. So, when the day had come when he had found the strength, he had watched as dawning realization dimmed the light in her eyes. He had been six years old.

Wounded, his mother had embraced the Vulcan ideal of child rearing and retreated behind a wall almost as impenetrable as Sarek’s. Yet, at times, especially when she knew he was dealing with a particularly unpleasant experience, Spock would see the battle she fought within herself.

Still, as he grew his rejection of her created an ever-widening gulf between them. The loss of her love, or at least the manifestation of it, felt like a limb abruptly severed; though gone, he’d felt the phantom ache for years. He had often wondered if she felt the same.

He and his mother had become near strangers but he had his father’s approval—until now.

“You are leaving?”

He straightened at the sound of his mother’s voice. “I must.”

She stood at the doorway, almost in the same space his father had only recently vacated. She hesitantly approached, but stopped well back from his position. “Why? Why must you go?”

“Mother, you more than any other should be aware of my reasons.”

“I understand that you think your father isn’t proud of you. He is, though, very proud. Right now, he’s been hurt, that’s all.”

Spock turned and stared at her.

“Don’t look at me that way. I know you think I don’t know what I’m talking about—that, being human, how could I know? But I know about emotions, Spock, more than you or your father. You can call it anything you want, couch it in terms of logic so you don’t have to face what it is, but it doesn’t change anything. You’ve spent all these years hurting one another just so you can both deny what you feel.”

He stiffened again. She didn’t know him; she didn’t know him at all. And she was still looking for the human son she’d lost so many years before. “Then it would behoove us both for me to depart and end this needless discomfort.”

“Oh, Spock.” She shook her head, dejectedly. “I don’t understand any of this.”

He saw the aircar pull up to the front of the house. “It is time.”

“Will you ever come back?”

He didn’t give her an answer; he didn’t have one to give. Instead, he moved to her side and lightly touched her face. The emotions he had always associated with her skittered across his mind, leaving a mental impression he could hold and take with him. But he left nothing behind.

^^^^^^^^

Spock’s gaze never deviated from the view of space afforded by the small window next to his seat. The fascination he felt was only partly due to its incomprehensible expanse. He had found a place near the back and, alone and undisturbed, waited out the hours to Earth by staring at the silent and dark vista while contemplating his future.

He had tried to sleep, twice in the three days that had been his journey, making use of one of the small sleeping chambers set up for the passengers. But each time he had been unable to sleep, his thoughts on his coming ordeal interrupting his rest as his own mind frantically hunted for resolution.

Starfleet had accepted his application, but there was no guarantee he would pass the series of rigorous tests awaiting him as a precursor to being confirmed as a member of that organization. Many didn’t. And while he had no doubts concerning his academic qualifications, he was well aware that there was more to gaining a position in Starfleet than how much one knew. There were those hazy and insubstantial qualities spoken of by his contact, qualities he feared he might not possess.

What would he do if he was ultimately rejected? Where would he go? Vulcan? No, his life on Vulcan was over. There was no going back.

So, there was only forward. But if not Starfleet, where? He had enough credits to sustain him for four point five Earth months; after that, try as he might he couldn’t imagine what lay ahead. His future stretched out before him a black and unknowable chasm.

“May I get you something to drink?”

He looked up into the studied warmth of the attendant. He was still somewhat unnerved by the artifice so easily practiced by the people of Earth. The smile on her face, framed by the halo of yellow hair, reminded him of the pictures he had seen of human dolls, their faces frozen into a rictus of false emotion. “No, but I would appreciate knowing how soon we will reach Earth orbit.”

“Not for another three hours.” She glanced at the small compad she carried. “I see you didn’t order anything for lunch. Are you sure I can’t bring you anything?”

“Quite sure.” He saw the smile slip slightly. He had displeased her somehow, yet she hid it behind an air of friendliness. Then, he remembered. “Thank you.”

“All right, but if you change your mind press the overhead button and I’ll be right over.”

She moved off to the next passenger and Spock returned to his perusal of the stars, but he couldn’t help but think of what had just transpired. It had never occurred to him that emotions could be used to conceal as well as reveal.

What now occurred to him was how ill-equipped he truly was to deal with the people he had never thought of as his. That part of him that was of his mother had been stunted by its ruthless suppression. Would its crippled remains be enough to see him through?

^^^^^^^^

“I’ve seen your transcripts. To say we’re glad to have you would be an understatement.”

Spock nodded his head, not sure if he was supposed to say anything or not. The interview had not gone as he’d expected and he felt out of his depth.

“You do know that your grades are in the top one percentile, don’t you?”

“Yes, I am aware of it.”

“You don’t sound especially proud of the fact.” There was puzzlement in the man’s voice.

“Mr. Salazar—”

“Call me Tom.” The wide face broke into a grin. “I try to keep things between me and my students on a less formal basis.”

“But I will not be a student here. I was informed that I would only be here long enough to ascertain my qualifications for a Starfleet posting.”

“Oh, I know. But still.” The man spread his hands in appeal.

“Very well. Tom. Pride is not...” He faltered. How did he go about making this man understand what so many years had failed to make a woman living among Vulcans understand? He saw no sense in even trying. “I accept what my diligence has achieved. I now only need to know if it will be enough to secure me a place in Starfleet.”

The man coughed and looked back at the terminal screen. “Most of the tests you’ll need to take are those specifically for ship placement.” He looked back at Spock. “You did request stationing on a ship, didn’t you?”

“That is correct.” He hesitated briefly before asking the question that had been uppermost on his mind. “I was made cognizant of the fact that there are certain omissions in my training. What will happen if the outcome of these tests is not completely satisfactory?”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Even if you don’t pass the first time, you’ll be allowed to take a make-up test.”

“I see. And if I were to fail that one?”

Salazar grimaced and gave a slight shrug. “Ah, that wouldn’t be in your best interest by any means. But you could always try again in six months. Look,” he leaned forward, readjusting his considerable bulk and rested his arms on the desk. “Starfleet is very interested in having a Vulcan on one of its ships. So, any help you need, for anything, you just let me know and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Because I am a Vulcan?”

“Well, no, not just because of that. I’m your counselor—it’s my job to help cadets get through their time here as easily as possible. I know you’re only going to be with us for a little while but I’d still like to help if I can.”

“I will endeavor to keep that in mind.”

“Good, that’s good.” Salazar stood up and pressed one of the buttons on his terminal. “I’ll have one of the cadets show you to your room. The rooms are small but more than adequate. You’re just lucky you got here when you did—another few days and the place will be a ghost town.”

Spock also rose. “Ghost town?”

Salazar laughed. “I meant the place will be deserted. Spring break starts at the end of the week and most of the cadets go home. But I’m sure you’ll be through the tests and on your way to a ship by then.” He led Spock to the door, opening it as he ushered him out to the reception area.

“A runner should be here in a second. Ah, there he is,” he added, as a boy about eighteen Earth years approached them. “Wilson, take our guest to dorm 5E, room 704.”

“Yes, sir.” The young man saluted and then turned toward Spock. “This way, sir.”

“It’s easy to lose your way around here, so make sure to stick close to Wilson. And remember, Spock,” Salazar had started back into his office but stopped at the entrance, “you need anything, you know where to come.”

Spock looked at him for a moment and then picked up his bags and fell in behind the cadet.

^^^^^^^^

Spock could almost wish he had put off his departure another week; the dormitory he was led to was noisy, chaotic and filled with aggressive humans who did little to hide their curiosity. He did his best to ignore the obvious stares, though he couldn’t help glancing through the open doorways they passed on his way to his room. Obviously, humans were not the only beings afflicted with curiosity.

“Here you are, sir.” Wilson opened the door in front of him and stepped back.

The counselor had not lied. The room barely held the two beds, chest of drawers and small desk that comprised its furnishing. Evidently, its use was relegated to sleep and study and little else. Spock could only hope there would be no roommate.

Wilson had followed him into the room. “You’ll have the place to yourself. Garrett’s already left for the break and McKinney didn’t make the grade.”

Spock’s eyebrows came together. “‘Make the grade’?”

“Sorry. He flunked...failed the courses.”

“I see.” He imagined the percentage of cadets who did not make it through the curriculum was rather high. He only hoped he didn’t end up in their number.

“If you need anything else, just let me know. I’m down the hall from here, five rooms over.” Wilson pointed to his left. “Well, good luck, sir.”

“Thank you,” Spock responded to the already disappearing figure, though he didn’t think luck would have anything to do with whether he passed or not. Pushing that thought away, he proceeded to unpack some of his belongings. The next day would be taken up with more forms and tests and the day after would hopefully bring him his results. He saw no need to prepare for a longer stay.

The sounds from the hallway only slightly interrupted his concentration, but once he’d finished his unpacking, storing his luggage in the closet he hadn’t at first noticed, he realized the noise would not be conducive to meditation. It had been over a day since he had had the time to reorder his thoughts and the peace and quiet of his inner-mind called to him.

He moved to close the door but found himself standing at the doorway instead, intrigued by the Terrans’ methods of socialization. He could hear laughter coming from the room next door and several of the cadets roamed from room to room, as if there was no ‘mine’ or ‘yours,’ only ‘ours.’ Two doors down, a boy, clad in his underwear, leaned against the doorjamb and watched him. The look was not a threatening one, more a mixture of curiosity and openness. Spock nodded his head in acknowledgment and the boy smiled back.

Spock knew little of smiles; he only vaguely remembered those of his mother’s. They had disappeared along with everything else that stamped her as human. Yet somehow he knew the smile he had just received was not one often given. Not just of his mouth, the smile shone forth from the boy’s eyes, yet there was a tempered eagerness to it, as if the bestower was afraid his gift would not be accepted. Spock did not wish to give that impression but he had no idea how to go about conveying that. And he had no gift to give in return.

He saw the enthusiasm begin to die in the boy’s eyes. Spock took a step forward and just as he was about to speak a voice issued from the boy’s room.

“Jim, will you give me a hand with this?”

The boy gave him another smile, tinged with regret this time, and disappeared into the room behind him.

Spock stared at the empty space for a short while, then reentered his room and closed the door behind him.

^^^^^^^^

Spock filled in his last answer and turned away from his terminal. He knew this to be the final test in a long string of tests which had taken up most of his time the last two days. He was gratified to know it was over.

The instructor at the front of the room looked up and, seeing he had stopped working, got up from her chair and approached Spock’s desk.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Spock?”

“I have completed the test.”

She gave him an odd look. “That tests usually takes over two hours. Are you sure you don’t want to check your work?”

Spock studied her for a moment. He was getting better at reading the humans’ facial expression and hers was telling him that, though she was surprised at his quickness, suspicion had no place in her assessment of him. “I do not believe that will be necessary. My answers are the correct ones.”

“As long as you’re sure...” She leaned over his shoulder to look at the screen and quickly scanned through the test form. After a few moments she added in a code at the bottom. “There, that will show that you’ve completed all the required tests. You finished in record time, Mr. Spock.”

“Do you know know how soon it will be before I am informed of my test results?”

“Oh, not until you’ve completed them all.”

Spock gave her a puzzled look. “I was under the impression I just did.”

“Oh,” she brought her hand up to her mouth, “I’m sorry. I meant this was the last written test. You still need to take the physical exams.”

“I can assure you, I am in perfect health.”

She laughed. “There’s a little more to it than that. Starfleet requires that you be proficient in several different disciplines: self defense, survival skills, swimming, certain aerobics-”

“Swimming?”

“Yes. You do know how to swim, don’t you?”

“Only rudimentarily. There is not an urgent need for such a skill on my planet.”

“Well, I’m not sure how proficient they expect you to be.” She twisted her mouth to one side, clearly giving it some thought. Finally, she shrugged. “There’s not much to be done about it now; the tests are scheduled for tomorrow. All you can do is hope you’re good enough.”

“That does not seem an adequate countermeasure,” he responded.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Spock. I don’t know what else to suggest.”

“Perhaps I could enhance my skills with practice; there is a pool nearby, is there not?”

She gave him a pitying look. “You’ve only got one day. What can you do in one day?”

He took his leave of her then, his destination the academy swimming pool. He did not understand why she thought he would need more time. Either he would learn the skill or he would not. That it the way it had always been; he saw no reason to think this time would be any different.

^^^^^^^^

“There is no logic to this.” Spock sat rigidly in his chair, unable to meet the eyes of the man across from him.

“I’m sorry, Spock. I know it doesn’t make any sense to you; you’ll be on a starship, not a seagoing vessel. But there could be times when you’d need the skill while on a landing party.”

Spock tightened his lips. His control was too precarious to attempt a response.

Salazar spread his hands in appeal. “You’ve got ten days. Find yourself someone who’d be willing to help you and I’m sure you won’t have any trouble passing the test next time. You passed all the rest of them with flying colors.”

Try as he might, Spock couldn’t think of what that meant. Had he barely passed or done well? Truthfully, at this point he didn’t care. The chasm he’d managed to not contemplate was threatening to swallow him whole; all that lay between him and it was one test. It was imperative that he pass. “How would I go about finding such a person?”

“You might post a message on the cadet’s message board; there’s a link to it on the Academy site. Or, you can do it the old fashioned way and leave a note tacked to the board in the hall outside the cafeteria. Oddly enough, more of the cadets go that route. And since most of them will be gone by the end of the day, it’s probably the only place the remaining cadets will see it.”

Spock gave a short nod. “Very well, I will do as you say.” He rose and allowed Salazar to lead him to the office door, though the hand on his back was an uncomfortable intrusion.

“You’ll let me know if you have any trouble finding someone, okay?”

“I shall.”

“Listen, Spock, I know you’re worried about this but lots of cadets have to take some of the tests twice and they have the advantage of already knowing what’s involved. It’s best if you think of the first one as a trial run; you did okay but next time you’ll do better.”

“I will attempt to do so.” He hesitated, unsure of what he would do next. How exactly did one word such a request for aid? On Vulcan, he would have gone to the person most proficient at that particular endeavor. For the person to refuse to help him would be unthinkable. Here, not only did he not know who was the most proficient but he had already surmised that, as far as aid given, he could not assume it would be forthcoming.

“Would you like me to write something for you?” Salazar asked kindly.

“I...perhaps that would be best.”

Salazar walked back to his desk. He grabbed a small square of paper and quickly scribbled something on it. He turned to Spock and handed him the note. “Here. It’s getting close to lunch time, so you’ve got the perfect excuse. Pin this up on the board on your way into the cafeteria.”

Spock took his leave of the counselor and made his way down the long concourse that was the Academy grounds. Ten minutes later he entered the building where the cafeteria was housed. He had been here before, having found no other establishment less expensive at which to eat, yet he was still having trouble getting used to the volume of noise humans created while supposedly eating. Even from the outer hall, the din from the dining area was impressive.

Posting the note to the board, Spock approached the double doors leading into the cafeteria. Disconcerted, he realized it was now exactly noon and a great many of the cadets had just let out from classes. The lines for ordering one’s meal all stretched back several meters. He walked over to the nearest one and took his place at the end to wait his turn.

He passed the time by watching the humans around him. He found them fascinating and oddly compelling. They were ostensibly free to do and say what they pleased, yet so often they tended to camouflage their true intentions in a language Spock didn’t know if he’d ever understand.

Ten minutes later he chose his meal and then found an empty table toward the back of the room. While he ate, Spock continued his study of his mother’s people. That’s when he saw him.

The boy, the one from the dormitory, sat two tables away. He was with several other cadets and hadn’t noticed Spock, perhaps because his attention was being equally divided between his food and a book propped open on his lap. Though surrounded by others, the boy seemed alone.

Spock understood that well enough. He had lived on a planet populated almost exclusively by his own kind, yet the impression of being apart, not one with his companions, had never left him.

“Put the book away, Cadet Kirk. You’re making us all look bad.”

The voice sounded familiar, and Spock recognized it as the same one that had issued from the boy’s dorm room.

The boy, no, “Kirk,” closed the book on two fingers and looked up at his harasser. Spock found it odd that Kirk was smiling.

“The only reason you’ll look bad, Gary, is because you don’t bother to study.”

“Wouldn’t matter if he did or not,” another cadet at the table spoke up. “All he has to do is bat those big, brown eyes of his at his counselor and she fixes it right up for him.”

“You’re going to need all this someday.” Kirk lifted his book to eye level for a moment. “It’s not like you can pull the information out of a computer with your mind.”

“Don’t worry about me, Jim, my man, Gary Mitchell always finds a way.” Mitchell looked up at the chronometer on the wall. “Anyway, time to go.”

Kirk stuck a piece of paper into his book and rose. “Professor Matthews will be giving us back our test results today. I hope I did all right.”

“You,” Mitchell moved over to Kirk’s side and threw his arm around his shoulders. “probably aced it, adding yet another reason why a lot of the guys around here can’t stand you. Right, guys?”

The rest agreed, though Spock assumed it was an example of what humans referred to as humor since Kirk did not seem offended by it but, rather, joined in the rather loud bantering which followed.

There was no explanation for Kirk looking his way when he did, yet his eyes seemed to find Spock’s unerringly. For a moment, Spock felt as if an invitation had been offered, one he didn’t know if he should accept. Then, the moment passed and no one else seemed to notice the nervous grin Kirk threw Spock’s way before turning and departing with his companion.

^^^^^^^^

Spock hauled himself out of the pool and looked back into the water with distaste. He had spent all of the previous day trying to become adept at this particular skill with little or no success. Today, so far, had proved no better.

He considered his options as he toweled himself dry. As he had feared, no one had stepped forward to offer their services, and he had found the instructions in the Academy manual next to useless; his body seemed unable to translate the words into the correct motions. It went against all his Vulcan sensibilities to terminate the attempt, yet he couldn’t help but think that, if he continued on this course of action, he was doomed to fail.

What was he doing wrong? And would rereading the instructions aid his progress? Knowing he was only doing it so as not to have to admit defeat, Spock retraced his steps back to the bench where he’s laid the manual, only to come to a complete stop after barely two steps. Sitting on the bench, the slightly damp book in his hand, sat Kirk. His head down as he read, his forearms were propped against his thighs while the manual rested loosely in his hands. He slowly turned a page and then looked up at Spock’s approach.

“Hi.” he looked around Spock at the pool. “I think you’re doing it wrong.”

“Indeed.” Spock took a seat next to him. “How do you know this?”

“I’ve been watching you—your kick is off, which is probably why you’re having so much trouble with your balance.”

“My balance? I was under the impression that the water was supposed to support me.”

“Sorry. Balance in swimming refers to being able to perform all the movements around a natural point of buoyancy. But looking at this,” he leaned toward Spock and pointed to one of the pages, “they’re not taking into account the fact that yours is probably different.”

Spock took the book and reread the section Kirk was referring to. “I believe you are correct. It is not logical that Starfleet would devise a means of instruction beneficial to only one specific species.”

“No, it’s not. But there aren’t a lot of non-human cadets; you’re the first I’ve ever seen.”

“Is that why you were watching me?” Spock felt the same rush of bitterness he had experienced so often on Vulcan. He was not as they were; he was separate.

Something must have shown on his face. Perhaps the same thing his father had ever been able to detect, because Kirk’s eyes went suddenly wide.

“No! That’s not what I meant. I...” A blush stole over the human’s face. “I like the way you look, that’s all,” Kirk mumbled.

That was the last thing Spock would have thought to hear. “The way I look?”

“Yeah.” The human shrugged and gave a shamefaced smile. “So sue me.”

Spock’s eyebrows rose. “I beg your pardon?”

The smile became a full grin. “It’s just an expression. It means it doesn’t matter if you like it or not, I’m still going to like you.” Kirk became suddenly serious. “I do, you know. Like you. I have since the first time I saw you in the hall. Don’t ask me how or why because I couldn’t tell you. But haven’t you ever met someone and known from that very first moment that there could be something really special between you?”

Spock thought back to that moment, and his instinctive move toward the boy he’d never met before. “Perhaps.”

Kirk only nodded and grew quiet. The silence between them was comfortable and Spock saw no need to break it. They sat for a time, the sounds made by the other occupants of the gym washing over them but leaving them undisturbed. From time to time Spock would glance over at his companion; sometimes Kirk would be watching him, sometimes not.

Spock knew there was something the human wished to tell him. Whatever it was, he would wait as long as it took. Finally, as if coming to a decision, Kirk ducked his head and looked at Spock through a fan of lashes, a small, square note between two fingers. “So, I hear you’re looking for a swimming coach.”

^^^^^^^^

“Come on, pull your feet up! Don’t kick so hard—use the technique I showed you!” Kirk ran along the side of the pool, extorting his new friend on. After only one day, he’d made a lot of progress but they had a way to go.

Kirk had been surprised at how readily has offer of help had been accepted. He had always imagined Vulcans to be more reserved. And though this particular one was, there was also an underlying intensity, maybe even enthusiasm, that was both endearing and oddly seductive.

They’d introduced themselves to each other and then made plans to meet the following morning. Kirk had just come from his last class before break, so he was free for the next ten days, which was three more days than Spock had to improve his swimming skills. Spock. Kirk grinned as he tried to keep up with his friend; to think this time yesterday, he hadn’t known his name.

From the moment he’d seen the Vulcan in the dorm hallway he’d wanted to know who the exotic-looking being was who just happen to be staying in the room down the hall from his. Wanted to know enough to spend the two weeks of spring break at the Academy rather than return home. It wasn’t as if there was anyone there waiting for him anyway.

“You’re still kicking too wide! Narrow it!”

Spock stopped dead in the water. “This is not working.”

“You were doing fine during the drills.” Kirk walked over to where he’d left his gym bag on one of the benches running along the wall. He rummaged through it until he managed to locate his watch at the bottom. “It’s almost fourteen hundred hours. Maybe we should take a break—I’m getting hungry.”

“If you wish to leave, do so. Do not feel you must inconvenience yourself on my account.”

Kirk looked at the Vulcan in exasperation. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You’re trying too hard and it shows. You need to give it a rest. The fact that it’s an hour after my lunch time is a mere coincidence,” he added sarcastically.

Spock didn’t look too happy about it but he seemed to realize the truth of what Kirk was saying because he started toward the edge of the pool. Kirk was waiting for him with a towel as he climbed up out of the water.

“Where’s your bag?”

“I checked it with the attendant since I do not, as yet, have a locker,” Spock responded as he dried himself off as best he could. “I was not aware that it was permissible to bring it into the swimming area.”

“You’re not supposed to.” Kirk gave a guilty smile. “My regular bag is in my locker. This one’s just for the stuff I want to keep with me, like towels.”

Spock handed back the towel. “I will remember that. Meanwhile, I will retrieve my bag and meet you in front of the locker room in approximately eighteen point seven minutes.”

“I’ll time you.” Seeing the look on Spock’s face, Kirk laughed. “It’s a joke. Go get your bag.”

Fifteen minutes later, showered and dressed, Kirk found himself waiting outside the locker room for Spock. He leaned up against the wall, idly watching the other cadets come and go, waving to those he knew, giving a friendly smile to those he didn’t. He saw two men appear at the entrance and was surprised to see they were Vulcan. Odd, all this time he hadn’t run into one alien, and now he was bumping into them left and right. He’d have to tell Spock he wasn’t the only Vulcan trying to enter Starfleet after all.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Kirk frowned. It didn’t seem a very Vulcan-like thing to do, being late. He let another five minutes pass before he reentered the locker room and started looking for his friend.

It wasn’t very crowded, which made Kirk’s search easier. Going up and down the aisles of lockers, he called out Spock’s name, getting more than one odd look for his troubles. Spock wasn’t anywhere around.

Kirk finally went to the front desk and asked if Spock had retrieved his bag. He had, so Kirk knew he’d got that far. He asked around, stopping those coming and going to ask if they’d seen the Vulcan. No one had, or couldn’t remember seeing him. Which was strange in itself. Spock wasn’t someone easily overlooked if he passed you by.

He continued to look for another ten minutes, both inside and out, and with each passing minute he felt his spirits drop. The Vulcan was nowhere to be found; it was as if he’d vanished into thin air. Kirk was having a hard time not thinking it was personal, that maybe he’d done something to upset Spock, said the wrong thing or demanded more from him than he should.

He knew he had the habit of expecting too much from a person. He’d been called on it more than once, especially by his mother, who seemed to think he was too hard on his friends. But he couldn’t help it; that was who he was. And from even the short amount of time they’d spent together, Kirk had thought he had found a kindred spirit.

Finally, he gave up. His bag slung over his shoulder, Kirk started trudging toward the cafeteria. He still needed to eat, even though he doubted he would actually taste a bit of his food. He was disappointed and, even more, he was hurt. He almost wished he’d never met the Vulcan.

^^^^^^^^

Kirk barely noticed his fellow cadets as he trod the path back to his dorm. His meal churned in his stomach, turning his disposition sour. The hurt he’d felt had ripened into anger and the more he thought about it, and at this point he could think of little else, the angrier he got.

What kind of person did such a thing? Bad enough it was just plain rude, but what about all the time Kirk had spent, all the effort he’d put into teaching Spock to swim? Okay, maybe not all that amount of time and effort, but still. Didn’t that count for anything? He could have been doing a dozen different things, top of the list being going home, rather than wasting his time with someone who didn’t even appreciate it.

He was still nursing his anger when he reached the dorm. He took the stairs, he’d found it a good way to let off steam, and exited on his floor. As he approached his door, he couldn’t help but stare at the one further done the hall. It wasn’t very far away. Wouldn’t take more than a minute to check. He grimaced, trying to reject what his mind was telling him to do. Just forget it. Go to your room. Read a book. Anything but walk over to Spock’s room.

His feet apparently weren’t listening because the next thing he knew he was standing at Spock’s door. It was slightly ajar. That was a surprise, as Kirk would have imagined Spock would guard his privacy.

“Spock, you in here?” Kirk hesitantly pushed the door open.

He knew right away that it was now vacant. It looked like the other half dozen or so rooms he’d seen after their residents had been disqualified or found they didn’t have what it took to stay. The bed was precisely made: sheets tucked tight, pillow plumped. Dresser drawers closed.

Kirk walked over to the closet and opened the doors. His mouth drew into a tight line. Empty. That coward hadn’t even had the guts to stay. He’d run off, throwing away any chance at starship duty just because he didn’t have the nerve to face Kirk. He was glad the Vulcan was gone.

But that wasn’t true, was it? Everything he felt told him that the Vulcan wasn’t like that, that Kirk’s initial impression of him had been true. Kirk sighed as his anger fizzled. He’d always prided himself on his ability to read people. He couldn’t believe he had been that wrong. Why had Spock left? He supposed he’d never know.

He exited the room, reluctantly closing the door behind him. Almost to his own door he turned to take one more look. Finally, he shook his head and entered his room. Gary had left that morning for Vegas; he’d have the place to himself.

He closed the door and turned to find the Vulcan sitting on his bed. Two bags Kirk presumed were Spock’s were placed just inside.

“What are you doing here?”

Spock unfolded himself from the cross-legged position he’d assumed and stood. “I wished to speak to you.”

Kirk walked over to the bed opposite his own and sat down. He started removing his shoes and socks. “You might have said something before you disappeared.”

“I regret the rather clandestine method I utilized but, I assure you, it was necessary.”

Motioning to Spock to sit back down, Kirk continued to change. He pulled off his tunic and snagged the t-shirt draped across the foot of his bed.

Spock watched his motions with interest. “I assumed the Academy would insist the rooms be kept in order.”

Kirk gave him a look before pulling the t-shirt over his head. “I’m on vacation. As far as I’m concerned I can put things wherever I want.” He stood and pulled his trousers off. Grabbing his discarded tunic, he walked over to the closet and threw both items into the hamper. “But even I’ve got my limits.”

He pulled out a pair of Levi's and put them on. “I thought you were going to tell me something.”

“It is regarding my precipitous departure from the gymnasium.”

Kirk finished buttoning the fly of his Levis and bent down to collect his shoes. He returned to where he’d been sitting and started to put them on. “Go on.”

“An unexpected development arose which made it impossible for me to meet you at the appointed location. It also has made it impossible for me to continue our lessons.”

“Without the lessens, you won’t pass the test. You won’t get into Starfleet.”

Spock stood and walked over to the tiny window located between the two beds. He looked out, his attention obviously divided between Kirk and whatever was out there.

“Are you running from something?” Kirk softly asked.

“In a way.” Spock pressed his lips together. He appeared to be gathering his thoughts before responding. “As you, yourself, have noted, I am the only Vulcan at the Academy. And even I am not a cadet, but here only because Starfleet wished to test me before making their final decision. There is a reason for this. I will not go into the entire sociopolitical rationale behind it. Suffice to say that my coming here was not done with the approval of those with authority over me.” He looked back at Kirk. “I fear they may have sent someone to force me to return to Vulcan.”

“Can they do that? I mean, I wouldn’t think Starfleet would have accepted your application if they thought you weren’t old enough. Either that, or they would have insisted on your parents’ signature on the application, like they did on mine.”

“I doubt Starfleet would be notified. In any event, as I was about to rejoin you, I saw two Vulcans waiting near the entrance to the swimming area. It could be mere coincidence, but I doubt it. Not do I wish to test that notion.”

“I saw them. I wondered about it, too.” Kirk grinned. “You crossed the grounds wearing only your trunks?”

Spock’s eyebrows flew up. “Indeed not. I did not wish to call attention to myself. I merely walked to the next building and made use of the facilities there.”

“So, now what?”

“I do not know. I still have some credits; perhaps I shall book passage to one of the colonies, remain hidden until they grow tired of looking for me. Then, if Starfleet is still willing to accept me....”

Kirk didn’t like that idea at all. “Listen, why don’t you come home with me? There’s still ten days of break left and there’s a place to swim there, it’s even been warm enough, so we could continue your lessons. We could come back in a week when your retesting is scheduled, and maybe they’d have given up and gone away.”

“I would not wish to burden you in such a way.”

“It’s not a burden. I told you,” Kirk smiled. “I really like you. Besides, I wouldn’t want Starfleet to lose the services of someone I know will make a great officer.”

Spock seemed to want to go along, yet continued to resist. “Would not your family find my presence unsettling?”

“Why would they? Anyway, they won’t be there. Sam, my brother, is doing his grad work on Vega IX and my mom’s gone to help her sister care for her sister’s daughter and new kid. We’d have the place to ourselves...well, practically. My mom asked one of our neighbors to feed the horses, but we won’t even know he’s there. Come on,” Kirk poured every ounce of charm he possessed into his words. “What do you say?”

The Vulcan hesitated a moment longer before finally giving a quick nod. “Very well.”

Kirk whooped in glee. He got up and got his bag out of the closet. “This will only take a few minutes,” he assured as he grabbed the few things he’d need and stuffed them into the valise. He looked up at Spock. “You said you had some credits, right?”

“That is correct.”

“Good. I’ve got enough to get us from the Des Moines station home, but you’ll have to buy your own transporter ticket.”

“That will be acceptable.”

Kirk zipped up his bag. “All set. Let’s get out of here.”

Spock hesitated. “Perhaps it would be best to wait until nightfall. My presence does seem to be rather conspicuous.”

Kirk hadn’t thought about that. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He put his bag next to Spock’s by the door and then went back to sit on the bed. He looked up at the Vulcan. “You might as well get comfortable. We’ve got lots of time to kill.” He smiled at the look Spock gave him. They had a lot to learn about each other. Kirk knew he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

^^^^^^^^

The time had passed quickly. Around dinnertime, Kirk had gone to a nearby store for something to eat; he didn’t dare try to sneak out enough food for both of them from the Academy cafeteria. Oddly, they hadn’t talked as much as Kirk had thought they would, but the stretches of silence were comfortable and he had found himself becoming more attracted to the Vulcan as the hours passed.

Like now, as Spock caught him staring once again.

“Why do you stare?”

Kirk’s only answer was a shrug. Then, to divert his friend, he asked his own question. “How come you want to join Starfleet so badly?”

“That is an odd question coming from one enrolled at the Academy.”

“Then you want to command a starship?”

“Is that what you desire to do?”

“God, yes, since I was five or six, I think. My dad was in Starfleet. He’s dead now,” he added in a lowered voice.

“I grieve with thee,” Spock intoned.

“Thanks.” Kirk pushed away the depression he still felt at the mention of his father, even after so many years. “It was a long time ago.”

“You wish to emulate him.”

“I guess. He didn’t command a starship but he was a great captain.”

“As you shall be,” Spock pronounced.

“You think so?” Kirk asked, trying not to sound too anxious. Most of the time he thought so, too, but every so often a seed of doubt would creep in.

“Yes, I do. Your willingness to come to my aid, to take the responsibility of another without question, your ability to sway others to your way of thinking, whether they wish to or not,” Spock added with a raised eyebrow, “are all qualities of leadership.”

Kirk colored slightly and grinned. “I suppose I do tend to push when I want something.”

“You do, indeed.”

“You still haven’t answered my question, though. Why do you want to be in Starfleet?”

Spock didn’t seem to have to think about it. “There is a great deal to discover about the universe, a great deal to experience. In no other place would I be able to have those experiences to the degree I would on a starship.”

“Then you want to be a science officer.”

“That is my wish.”

“I think you’ll be a great science officer,” Kirk responded, then glanced at the chronometer. “As much as I’d like to continue this mutual admiration society, it’s time to go. Our beam out time is twenty hundred hours and I wanted to give us plenty of time to get there.”

He got up and went to the door. Opening it slightly, he peeked out to make sure no one was around. “It’s all clear. Come on,” he motioned to Spock, “let’s go.”

They grabbed their gear and slipped out of the room and to the nearby stairwell. The hurried down the steps and at the bottom the process was repeated. Finally, they cautiously started away from the building.

This time of year the sun was still out, though quickly making its way below the horizon. With most of the cadets gone they were the only two around, which seemed to give an ominous air to the gathering twilight. The campus appeared even more immense than usual, and Kirk felt completely exposed as he and Spock hurried along the walkway. He quickened his pace as they neared the Academy’s boundaries.

“Where are we going?” Spock asked in a hushed tone.

“I thought a taxi might stick out like a sore thumb and be remembered, so I told them to pick us up a couple of blocks from the campus.”

“I see.” Spock hesitated. “‘Sore thumb’?”

“Another expression. It sort of makes sense; if your thumb is sore, you tend to stick it out.” Kirk chuckled. “Hell, I don’t know where it came from.”

“Your people seem to have many of these obscure expressions.”

“And I suppose Vulcans don’t?”

Spock tilted his head to the side, giving the question some thought. “There are words from ancient times, little used, that often had more than one meaning, or mean other than what is actually being said, but usually a Vulcan means exactly what he says.”

“Sounds boring,” Kirk teased and then pointed to the vehicle idling half a block away. “There’s our ride.”

The trip to the transporter station took less than fifteen minutes. They rushed inside and were through the queue in ten. In Des Moines there was a delay, their bags having been sent to Detroit. Kirk could feel the tension radiating off his friend as they waited for their luggage to appear, as if Spock expected to be seized any moment and whisked back to Vulcan.

After a harrowing forty-five minutes they managed to escape and snagged one of the taxis outside the terminal. It was an older vehicle—the run to Riverside wasn’t the most popular—but what it lacked in amenities it more than made up for in speed. Less than an hour later, the two of them were deposited in front of the Kirk homestead.

They walked up onto the porch. Kirk retrieved the key from out of the flower pot sitting on the first step, smiled at the look Spock gave him, and let them into the house.

The Vulcan held his tongue longer than Kirk thought he would.

“I do not understand.”

“What?” Kirk motioned Spock toward the kitchen. It’d been hours since their last meal and he was starving.

“What is the point of locking one’s doors if the key to such a lock is left in plain view?”

“The key is coded to only work for me, my brother or my mother,” Kirk responded from in front of the refrigerator, where he was busily pulling out the ingredients for a sandwich. “It was Sam’s idea to make it look and act like an old-fashioned key.”

“That is quite illogical.”

Kirk laughed. “Yeah, but that’s the way we humans are, Spock. You’ll just have to get used to us if you plan on sticking around.” He studied the food in front of him, frowned, and then looked at Spock. “You like peanut butter?”

“I do not know. I have never tasted it.”

“Guess we’ll find out then, won’t we?”

Kirk finished making the sandwiches, pastrami for him, peanut butter for Spock, and poured them both something to drink. They ate at the small table in the kitchen. Spock thought the flavor of peanut butter quite acceptable but he wasn’t enamored of the texture. They cleaned up after themselves and then Kirk led them upstairs.

The room was exactly as he had left it months before, though there was a slight musky smell as if it had only recently been opened.

“What do you think?” Kirk stood in front of the window of his room, trying to get it open. “You think you can put up with sharing this room with me for a week?”

“The room is more than adequate, though I would imagine the sleeping arrangements may be something of a problem.”

Kirk had finally got the window open and turned to Spock. He wasn’t sure if the Vulcan was joking or not. He didn’t appear to be. “Um, I could always sleep in Sam’s old room if you’d prefer to sleep alone.”

Spock appeared surprised. “It is not I who might find the sharing of a bed a problem; rather, it is that my body temperature is higher than yours. It may cause you some discomfort.”

“Sort of like sleeping with a hot water bottle, huh?” Kirk shook his head. “It won’t be a problem, Spock.”

Later, Kirk wondered at his words. The Vulcan was fast asleep, relaxed into the bed in a casual sprawl, while Kirk was wide awake. It wasn’t that there wasn’t enough room. There was. Maybe too much. Because Kirk would have given anything for an excuse to get nearer to the heat Spock had thought would bring him discomfort. In that, Spock had been right; it just wasn’t the kind of discomfort his friend would ever have imagined.

^^^^^^^^

Kirk woke to an empty bed. The sun was barely rising but its rays had already worked their way through the thin drapes, something he’d complained about over the years to his mother to no avail. It lightened the room just enough to make sleep impossible.

He heard noises coming from the bathroom down the hall: the toilet seat banging down—he should have warned Spock about that—and then the sound of the shower starting.

Kirk sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover himself to his waist. He’d awakened with a hard-on and thinking about Spock standing naked in the shower was only making it worse. Clad only his his underwear, he felt exposed, as naked as Spock was.

It troubled him, these feelings he had for someone he barely knew. Their intensity even frightened him a little because already, after knowing the Vulcan less than forty-eight hours, he wanted more from him than he’d ever wanted from anyone else.

He’d desired Spock from the first time he’d seen him in the dorm hallway. That was nothing new; his attraction to anyone always came swift and hard. But invariably his looks and charm would get him what he wanted and for a time he’d lose himself in the euphoria of a new relationship until the inevitable boredom set in. Then he’d extricate himself from the situation as gracefully as possible.

He didn’t want that this time. And he felt like a fool for it. He was sixteen for god’s sake, only in his first year at the Academy and on his way to a career he’d planned for practically his entire life. The handful of girls and couple of boys he’d dallied with had been easily let go; he knew that would not be the case with Spock. But given the opportunity to have any sort of relationship with Spock, he already knew he wouldn’t, no, couldn’t, pass it up.

When he heard the water turn off, he got up and hurried to his mother’s room and her private bathroom, snagging his jeans and t-shirt along the way. As much as he wanted the Vulcan, he didn’t think it’d be such a hot idea to let Spock know the direction of his interest, not until he knew that interest was reciprocated.

He hurried through his shower and when he got back to the room it was to find Spock dressed and waiting for him.

“I did not realize you would awaken so soon, or I would have allowed you first use of the facilities.”

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, I’m used to sharing.” Kirk got a clean pair of socks out of his drawer and grabbed his shoes. “But I do have to brush my teeth. If you want, why don’t you go downstairs and get the coffee started?” He turned and looked at Spock. “You do know how, don’t you.”

The Vulcan looked almost offended. “I am sure I am quite capable of deducing the workings of a coffee maker.”

“Okay, okay, just making sure.” He chuckled at Spock’s departing back and then made his own way to the bathroom he’d shared with Sam all his life. Ten minutes later, he was downstairs.

He found that Spock had not only figured out the coffee maker, but was in the process of cooking breakfast. He walked up behind the Vulcan who was busy at the stove.

“Oatmeal?” Kirk groused. “I usually don’t eat much for breakfast. Coffee and toast usually does it.”

“You will need added nourishment if we are to continue my lessons.”

Kirk moved over to where the coffee maker had just finished brewing. He gave Spock an inquiring look. The Vulcan shook his head no, so Kirk poured himself a cup and took a seat at the breakfast table. “I was thinking we’d skip today. I sort of wanted to show you the farm.”

Spock thought about it a moment. “That should be acceptable. While I am still in need of your expertise, I feel mastery of the skill should take no more than three point seven of your days.”

“Great.” Kirk propped his feet on one of the chairs. “Ever rode a horse, Spock?”


^^^^^^^^

Continue to Part 2