Chapter Text
Spock was not the type of individual to rush into any given situation. Anyone who knew him was sure to acknowledge that. He was careful and methodical in all ways.
He had developed skills and coping mechanisms over the years to ensure his thoughts and behaviors were almost exclusively Vulcan, with only very small examples of being otherwise.
His defiance in the face of the Vulcan Council being one of those examples.
Which was why he was in San Francisco attending Starfleet Academy.
The first time he’d spotted the male cadet with the short shorn sandy blond hair and the striking blue eyes he was leaning over a trashcan throwing up his lunch, presumably.
There was a Terran expression that went something like he’d looked ‘green around the gills’ and though Spock was not sure of origin of that saying, it applied to the young cadet.
He’d thought the cadet had likely overindulged in drinking the night prior, a very common occurrence in the areas surrounding the campus.
Spock had, therefore, dismissed the cadet as not that interesting or relevant.
The next time Spock noticed him he was sitting in an isolated section of the corner of the Andorian section of the Academy Gardens. He was on a bench in the section, taking up the entire seat, hunched up into himself, knees bent and head resting there. He looked quite upset, as though he’d been crying before, though he no longer was.
He had looked so distressed that Spock had almost walked up to him to inquire if there was something Spock could do for him. But Spock’s friend, Nyota, had arrived to meet him, and when Spock had turned back to look, the cadet had left.
Spock didn’t see him for a couple of weeks after that, but the next time Spock did see him, he had just left his apartment building and was making his way toward the campus to attend class.
The cadet was not dressed in his usual red uniform, but instead wore jeans, a T-shirt, and a windbreaker, though it was not terribly cold.
He was swaying as he walked and then as Spock watched, he stumbled into the side of a building, nearly fell, and then leaned against the building.
Spock could not help but approach him though he knew he ought to mind his own business.
“Good morning,” Spock said. “Do you require assistance?”
The cadet blinked several times. He was very pale. He looked over at Spock, blue eyes unnaturally wide in his ashen face. “What?”
“Overindulging in drink can sometimes cause—”
“I’m not.” He seemed to collect himself and straightened a little though he still leaned against the wall. “I’m not drunk. Or even experiencing the after effects of it.”
Spock took a moment to take this in. “I see. Then you are experiencing an illness. Perhaps I could escort you to the hospital or arrange for you to make it there.”
“I’m not…I’m really not sick.” He licked his lips. He met Spock’s gaze and Spock was struck just how stunning his eyes were. “You…you’re Spock, right?”
“That is correct. Have we met?”
The cadet smiled a little. “No. Just…I guess everyone knows you.”
Spock nodded. Being the only Vulcan at the Academy that made sense.
“And you are?”
“Kirk. Jim Kirk.”
“The son of George Kirk?”
Those blue eyes clouded over a bit but he nodded. “Yep.”
“You do appear to be ill, Mr. Kirk.”
“It’s just Jim. Or Kirk, if you have to. And really, Spock, I’m not sick.”
Spock certainly had no intention of arguing with him if he insisted that he wasn’t, though Spock could clearly see otherwise.
“Very well. I need to go as I am on my way to a course right now.”
Jim smiled. “Okay, see you.”
“And you will be all right?” Spock asked doubtfully.
“Sure. The dizziness comes and goes.”
“Good day to you then.”
And Spock left to make it to his class. Admittedly he spent most of the two-hour class thinking about Jim Kirk. There was something he was missing about Kirk, and Spock could not quite figure out what it was.
As he exited the class, Nyota stopped him on the way out.
“You okay, Spock? You seemed distracted in there.”
“I retained all relevant information pertaining to the subject.”
Nyota laughed. “Oh, I am certain of that. Your distracted is better than anyone else’s full attention.”
“I am…all right.”
She didn’t press it. She wouldn’t. Instead she said, “Are we still on for breakfast tomorrow?”
“Yes,” he answered. “I will be there.”
“Great. See you.”
On his way home, Spock thought of Jim. This was very much not like himself. Spock rarely gave extra thoughts to strangers, which Jim basically was.
He tried to force himself out of the reflection, for such thoughts for someone he did not know were not helpful.
Earlier he’d intended to stop at the bakery near his apartment as they made some Vulcan baked goods that Spock did not have the time or inclination to bake himself. He’d placed his order that morning for pick up when he was returning home.
As he entered he was in time to see that Jim was at the counter. He was bright red and fumbling with something, and as Spock got nearer he realized that Jim was embarrassed.
The baker looked annoyed as she glared at him. “Sir, I’m sorry but if you can’t pay for the scone…”
“I will pay,” Spock spoke up from behind Jim. “You can put it on my tab.”
Jim turned to stare at Spock, those blue eyes so wide again. “Oh. No. I…”
“It is nothing.” Spock waved away his objections. He looked at the baker. “You have my order ready?”
“Thank you,” Jim mumbled, and then without another word, he left the bakery.
A few minutes later, Spock left with his own goods and realized Jim was waiting outside for him.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“As I said before, it is nothing. A small thing.”
Out came the tongue to trace his chapped lips. “Still. I thought…I thought I had it. It’s just…things are hard right now and I…you know, never mind. It’s nothing to concern you.”
“You are feeling better?”
Jim smiled a little. “Yeah. That happens in the morning, mostly.”
“You really ought to have your illness checked out, Jim.”
Jim laughed then. It did not have the joy he was used to when Nyota or others laughed. Even the laugh seemed…sorrowful. He could not explain it.
“I’m not sick, Spock. Really. I’m pregnant.”