For now, he would have to accept that he was conflicted. But he didn’t like it. He also didn’t like that Jim had been hurt by his words, or that Jim had yelled at him, or that he hadn’t been invited to accompany Jim and the doctor.
Most strangely of all, he didn’t like the familiar way Jim had pulled on another man’s shirt.
5. Abandoned
Jim and McCoy had not returned by the time Spock had forced himself to fall asleep. When he awoke three hours later, McCoy was sprawled out on his back on the bottom bunk, snoring.
The captain’s bed was empty.
Spock got to his feet to investigate. Jim's bed was, in fact, still made, like it hadn't yet been slept in. He narrowed his eyes slightly and turned his attention to the bottom bunk. “Doctor McCoy, where is the captain?”
“Nhaaa,” McCoy mumbled, his head lolling on the pillow.
“DOCTOR MCCOY.”
McCoy’s eyes shot open. “What? For chrissake, Spock, humans need their sleep.”
Spock forced himself not to feel panic over Jim's absence. “Where is the captain?” he repeated insistently.
“None of your damn business.”
“On the contrary, doctor, the captain’s safety is most certainly my business, so if you could –”
“Really?” McCoy snorted. “Physical safety, right? Not emotional?”
“My answer, please.”
“He’s perfectly safe. I’m meeting him in that restaurant in the lobby for breakfast. Alright? Now scram.” And McCoy rolled on his side, towards the wall and away from Spock.
Spock didn’t care for McCoy, but he knew McCoy cared deeply - too deeply, said a voice in his head – for the captain, and if he felt that Jim was safe, then Jim probably was safe. Spock would have preferred to know Jim's location for himself, but it was pointless to argue further with the doctor.
He left the room to get his own breakfast. He decided to go to the hotel lobby, where a large restaurant provided food and drink to hotel patrons. It was the only restaurant in the hotel, and if it happened to be the same restaurant where McCoy had said he was planning to meet Jim, that was obviously not Spock's fault.
He obtained a tiny, unobtrusive table in the very back with an excellent view of the restaurant doors. He ordered tea and fruit, which were brought to him promptly, and then he settled back to watch the doors. He would remain here until he ascertained Jim's safety with his own eyes. It was his duty as First Officer.
Very shortly, McCoy came in, his cheeks stubbly and looking bleary-eyed and still half-asleep. Spock quickly ducked, pretending to dig for something in his shoulder bag while hiding his face from the doctor. McCoy staggered over to a table, one not far from Spock but out-of-view, on the other side of a half-wall. Spock was certain he hadn't been seen. Listening closely, he heard a waiter approach the table and McCoy place breakfast orders for two people.
Moments after McCoy had ordered, Jim walked through the doors.
Spock felt something inside him clench. Jim looked a bit rough-and-tumble, hair disheveled and still dressed in McCoy’s short-sleeved shirt, which was tighter than Jim’s Starfleet tops and in the morning light revealed the muscles of his chest, shoulders and upper arms. But the light also showed Jim's missing weight, his bandaged arm, and the dark circles beneath eyes that still weren't blue enough. A funny itch started in Spock's hands, as if they wanted to smooth Jim's hair or touch his cheek.
Humans, in general, were considered a desirable species by many aliens. Jim was an incredibly striking human. Spock had always known these two things in a logical, detached manner, as he might know the name of a planet or catalog a set of stars. But at the moment, there was nothing logical or detached about the way he was observing Jim. He was currently acutely aware of just how remarkably handsome Jim was -
And disturbingly aware that he was far from the only being in the room to find Jim so. No fewer than thirteen restaurant patrons were also admiring Jim's physical form. Spock firmly added this to his mental list of things he didn’t like. Because - because as First Officer, anyone who looked at Jim for too long was a threat to his captain. Yes. Spock could accept that explanation.
"Hey honey, you need a table?" An attractive waitress was suddenly quite close to Jim.
"I'm meeting someone, actually," Jim said, with a charming half-smile.
"Meeting someone, or just met someone?" The waitress asked playfully.
Spock felt his entire body tense.
"Dammit Jim." McCoy's loud voice cut through the room. "Quit flirting and get your too-pretty ass over here before I starve."
Jim broke into a small grin. "And that's my date," he said apologetically to the waitress, and moved toward McCoy. Spock ducked his head again, but he needn't have bothered; Jim's attention was completely fixed on McCoy, and he disappeared behind the half-wall in seconds.
"You're an angel on three hours of sleep, truly," Jim said, accompanied by the scraping sound of a chair moving. His teasing comment was full of affection. Spock had never heard him talk like that to anyone but McCoy.
"You're angel enough for both of us." McCoy sounded grumpy and sleepy. "The mere mortals can't stop eye-fucking you over their breakfasts."
"My, we are blasphemous for a good Southern boy."
“You're gonna regret that sass when you find out how much you should love me.”
“More than I already do? Now how would that be possible?”
“Because I found something here that’s just like Earth coffee and ordered you two cups.”
“Bones, I could fucking kiss you!" Jim was delighted. "Hell, I’d suck your dick right now, if you wanted.”
The fingers on Spock's tea cup tightened so quickly he had to force himself to let go before he cracked the china.
“I would have thought you’d have used up all your oral skills last night.”
“Mmm, there is that," Jim admitted in a voice that sounded fraught with hidden meaning.
Spock was baffled by the exchange. What did oral skills mean? Was McCoy was referring to Jim’s ability to speak eloquently when necessary? But how could such a skill be used up?
“So who was she?” McCoy asked eagerly.
"The Orion.”
“JIM!”
“What? I got a thing for ‘em." Jim added bitterly, "Maybe I just like green.”
McCoy did not sound impressed. “Jim, Orions are dangerous.”
“Good.”
“Jim –”
"Are you finished, sir?"
Spock looked up to see his own waiter standing politely over him and his empty dishes, and past the waiter, the crowd of patrons waiting for tables beyond. Not wanting to draw attention to himself by lingering, he reluctantly left.
*****
