Matchmaker, Matchmaker

[1lostone]

Title: Matchmaker, Matchmaker

Written: for logical_stimuli 's prompt at the kink meme, mostly because it cracked me the hell up. Here's what they wrote: We all know Q loves to cause problems, so what if he decided to play matchmaker (not thinking it would actually work) between Kirk/Bones or Kirk/Spock. I imagine Q would be excellent at this since he can stop time, change his appearance and pretty much be everywhere at once.

Universe: Reboot, with mentions of TNG

Pairing: K/S, naturally.

Rating: Adult

Warnings: Humor, Romance, use of commas, etc.

A/N: You don't need to have seen TNG Q episodes to understand this fic. Just know that some of the dialogue comes directly from both Q Who and Deja Q (which is my absolute favorite Q episode evah!!.)  as always, thanks to ladyblahblah  for being an awesome beta. Any mistakes are mine because I can't keep fiddling with things.  yesterdays_girl , I love ya and ty for the encouragement and help!

Word Count: a shitload. (20,604)

 

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"Probation?!"

"Surely you cannot be surprised at our decision, Q."

There was a rather rude sound that seemed to indicate Q was jolly well surprised. Shocked, even. It was hard to tell. His fellow Q had become so enamored of all those human idiosyncrasies that he tended to use them at the most inopportune times- when speaking would have conveyed the same meaning with much less confusion. Q quite suspected he did it on purpose.

"Still? This is inconceivable. You turned me human. Human!" Q's face took on a highly affronted look. "I'm still trying to live that down. And now you're telling me that I'm still on notice?"

A flash of light and both Qs were on the bridge of Picard's Enterprise. "Eighteen of our people have died. Please, tell us this is one of your illusions." Picard's voice was tight, each muscle in his body fairly twitching with suppressed rage.

"Oh no. This is as real as your so-called life gets."

Another flash of light and they were back where they had begun.

"You have brought this on yourself. The death of eighteen human souls demanded some sort of balance."

"Balance? What balance? Since when do we balance? Who would have the audacity to demand balance from the Q?"

There was a flash of light and when it cleared both Qs were watching Q on the floor of Ten-Forward, crying for help while Guinan looked on, smirking slightly. Q snapped his own fingers to get out of that particular moment of time. Even after everything, that woman still had the power to make him cringe. Or make him want to hide under the bed. Not that he would ever admit this.

"I introduced them to a section of the galaxy that Picard and his band of merry men would not have found in their natural lifetimes." Q tilted his chin. It was difficult to give the impression of looking down one's nose at an exact copy of oneself, but Q thought he managed nicely. "I am certain that is more than a recompense for eighteen measly, human…" He trailed off as his companion raised an eyebrow.

"Regardless of your opinion on the matter, the fact remains that you are still on probation. I suggest you find a way to make amends for your mistakes in a way that she will deem worthy. Don't forget we still owe her. This small matter should be sufficient to balance the scales."

Another flash of light and Guinan appeared, arms crossed over her chest, glaring coldly at Q.

Q felt himself pale. She was vindictive. She was protective of the humans. She was… still glaring at him. "What … would you have me do? Give Picard a teddy bear? Have Troi hook up with that pet Klingon?"

"You will leave them alone! Stay out of my time!" If possible, she looked even more unhappy.

"But--!"

"I don't want to hear it you miserable little excuse for a… a… well. Whatever it actually is that you are. You have no regard for the lives of any species you deem unworthy. You mock and manipulate the emotions that amuse you, without ever knowing the joy that is love… or, compassion! Or friendship!"

"But…" He loathed how feeble he sounded. The other Q stood slightly behind and to the left of Guinan, mirroring her pose exactly. He didn't look nearly as intimidating, but Q was beginning to get the impression that he wasn't going to be able to talk his way out of this one.

Guinan snapped her fingers. Nothing happened. She looked to the Q standing next to her furiously. He cringed and nodded.

Guinan snapped her fingers again and Picard's righteous voice seemed to echo around them. "I understand what you've done here, Q, but I think the lesson could've been learned without the loss of eighteen members of my crew." Q cringed a little, remembering his response. Indeed, his mocking tone seemed more derisive than usual. "If you can't take a little bloody nose, maybe you ought to go back home and crawl under your bed. It's not safe out here. It's wondrous, with treasures to satiate desires, both subtle and gross. But it is not for the timid." His words hung in the air with the finality of a coffin slamming shut. Q admired the way his words worked together for a moment before their meaning, and how it stood to affect him at present sunk in.

"But....!" The pathetic syllable was more automatic than anything else. Q knew when he'd been outmaneuvered.

"Well? What are you waiting for? You're lucky I'm not taking away your powers again. That whole experience did provide quite a lot of amusement for everyone." Q made a shooing motion with his hands. "Now go. Do something… spectacular."

With a flash of light, Q disappeared.

****

"Captain, I have a message from Starfleet."

Jim looked over at her from his customary sprawl in his chair. "Thank you Lieutenant. Put it onscreen."

"Yes, Sir."

Kirk straightened up as Admiral Pike's somewhat amused gaze filled the Enterprise's viewscreen.

"Captain Kirk. I have new orders for you. A mission that will call for the utmost in diplomacy and level-headedness." His lips twitched.

Jim blinked. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

He heard something very like a snort from Chekov's station. Sulu bent over his console as though afraid to look up. Admiral Pike's lips twitched again. "I thought you might be sick of milk runs and want to stretch your wings a little. You are to report to Gohldar IV. Negotiations for a new Federation planet have stalled, and we're hoping a visit from the flagship will prove fortuitous. They have a unique cultural perspective that the Federation feels will be quite an asset."

"Yeah. I'm sure the planet full of dilithium deposits won't hurt either."

The corners of the Admiral's eyes crinkled as he licked his lips, clearly doing his best not to laugh. He looked away from Jim and over to the science station. "Actually, there's one other thing. But you probably want to hear this with a bit more …privacy. Commander, you'll need to hear this too."

Jim looked from Spock's placid expression to the viewscreen. Spock stood up and walked to the turbolift. Jim scrambled to follow. The Enterprise had a small conference room near the bridge; Jim knew without asking that that was Spock's destination. "Lieutenant Uhura, please divert the Admiral to the staff conference room. Lieutenant Sulu, you have the con. Admiral, we'll be with you in a moment."

Jim didn't trust the expression on Pike's face. Whatever he was about to tell them was amusing the ever-loving hell out of him. Pike's elbows were on the desk, hands folded in front of his face with the pointer fingers of each hand folded over his smirk as though only he knew the punch line of a really raunchy joke.

The lift's doors whooshed open and Jim amused himself by matching Spock's steps perfectly, turning when he did and attempting to force his features into the same expressionless mask. Uhura met his gaze briefly and rolled her eyes at his immaturity. Jim just grinned and winked at her as the doors slid shut. For security reasons, the bridge was only accessible from the turbolift, causing anyone who had been there to divert themselves back to the deck accessible by all crew members. "Deck three." Spock spoke softly, remaining at his customary parade rest.

"So, what do you think Pike is gonna tell us? He looks like he's about to bust a gut."

"I have no conjecture at this time. I suggest that you attempt to remain patient and your curiosity will be assuaged when the Admiral explains."

Ouch. Spock had not exactly been overly friendly towards him in the six months that they'd worked together. Jim had lost count of the number of times he had tried to make friendly overtures towards his First Officer, but each one had been met with an absolute lack of anything approaching camaraderie.

"Oh. Um, of course." Jim tried not to feel like an idiot. Spock was the only being on the ship, practically in the galaxy, that could deflate his ego with a few well-placed words. Jim didn't know why Spock's opinion mattered to him so much. He just had to accept that there was no way he and Spock were going to be friends, no matter what the interfering old man had said. They stood there in silence until the lift's doors whooshed open once again. Spock and Jim walked the few steps towards the conference room's doors and entered, still in silence. As the doors shut behind them, there was a blinding flash of white light.

****

In the next heartbeat, Jim found himself… floating in space. Well, sort of floating. He was seated on a plush chair at a table that was elegantly set for a romantic dinner. There were two places, two wine glasses, a vase of flowers and two candles on the table. Across from him sat Spock, who was looking at their surroundings with both eyebrows lost in the fringe of his bangs. Before either of them could speak, a waiter appeared with another flash of light.

"Greetings, sirs. Here are your menus. We hope you will enjoy your dining experience this fine evening." The waiter looked fairly benign. He was dressed in a very intricate set of robes, and held two menus out to both Spock and Jim as though there were nothing wrong with the whole situation. He had a somewhat receding hairline, and his bright blue gaze seemed to convey both sardonic amusement and vast curiosity.

"What the fuck?" Okay so maybe not the most eloquent of responses, but Jim was fairly sure it got his point across.

"Sir? Your menu?"

Jim glared at the menu, then at the waiter. He struggled in his chair, realizing he was unable to move from the squishy comfort, as though he had been glued there. "I don't want the damn menu. What's going on? Why are we here? How are we here?"

The waiter rolled his eyes and set each menu down in front of both men. "I would think that it was pretty obvious."

Spock spoke for the first time. "It would appear that we are seated together for an interlude involving sustenance and mutual conversing of an amorous nature."

Jim's mouth fell open a little as he stared at his First Officer. "You mean… a date? We're here for a date?"

Jim kinda envied the way Spock managed to show exasperation by moving only two muscles in his face. "I believe I just said that, Captain."

"I don't want to…" Jim struggled in the chair. Part of his brain knew it was stupid, that he clearly wasn't going anywhere, but he couldn't seem to help the small rebellion. "…date you, Spock. I want to go back to my… damn… ship!"

"Oh very well. Your wish is my command, mon Capitán." The waiter smiled fondly. "I had forgotten how much I missed calling someone that." With a little smirk, there was another flash of light, and Jim found himself sitting on the saucer of the Enterprise. He didn't have time to struggle. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, rather than the instantaneous suffocation that he knew would befall him if he were actually trapped in space without the proper safety equipment. He could feel the oxygen expel itself from his body, lungs collapsing as they stopped working. His eyes grew wide as he grabbed his throat, trying to force his lungs to work. They were burning, burning oh god I'm dying this is it no air can't brea—

And with another flash of light he was back in the plushy chair, across from Spock, still clutching his throat and gasping in sweet oxygen. He felt a small trickle of blood escape from his nose. Jim wiped at it with a shaking hand, all at once completely exhausted. If this was a hallucination, it was a fucking believable one.

"I suggest you enjoy your meal, sirs. You have a lovely view." The waiter gestured to the endless canvas of space that surrounded them. "A lovely meal." He nodded to the menus, still untouched over their plates. "And lovely company. Take advantage of it. Just let me know when you're ready to order." With another flash of light he was gone.

"Fascinating." Spock's tone of voice was the same he would use for a particularly puzzling antimatter conversion equation.

Jim found himself carefully moving his hand away from his throat, as though it was the only thing that was keeping him actually breathing. He wiped the small streak of blood on his uniform trousers and sat up a little in the chair.

Spock's nostrils flared as though he could smell the tang of iron. "Captain, as … illogical as the situation in which we now find ourselves may be, I see no other alternative. Perhaps we should, 'play along', to use the standard vernacular. At least until another opportunity presents itself."

Jim licked his lips. "Play along, huh?"

"Indeed." Spock reached out and picked up his menu. "Would you like me to order for you, Captain?"

Uh… Jim stared at him, blinking owlishly. Things were moving a little too quickly for him to keep up. Spock looked perfectly comfortable as he sat across from him, studying the menu. "Uh.." Was all he could manage.

"There appear to be entrees from several different planets, Captain."

"Super." Jim cautiously straightened the rest of the way in his chair, still not perfectly sure that he wouldn't be flung out into the vastness of space by doing so. He picked up his menu, glancing at it before setting it back down. "Well, dating my First Officer breaks about thirty Starfleet regulations," Jim forced a small smile at the small joke.

Spock stiffened, looking up at him over the top of the menu. Jim hadn't spent a lot of time looking into Spock's eyes. The few times he had, the Vulcan had either been belittling him, attempting to kill him, or ordering him around. When he met his eyes this time, Jim was utterly shocked to see what looked like a flash of hurt in the too-human gaze.

"Your statement is inaccurate. As two of the three top ranking members of Starfleet on board the Enterprise, there is no direct regulation prohibiting a relationship between us, though there are several prohibiting fraternization between officers and their subordinates. Indeed it is for this very reason that Nyota and I ended our relationship. She was anxious to avoid the appearance of favoritism."

Jim blinked. "I didn't know that." He hadn't. Their professional relationship hadn't changed one iota since they'd been reassigned to the Enterprise. "Sorry, Spock."

Spock gave a small nod of acknowledgement. "Your apologies are not necessary. It was a mutual decision."

Jim winced.

There was a now-familiar flash of light and the waiter appeared. "Are you two gentlemen ready to order?"

Jim watched, bemused while Spock ordered something Vulcan for himself and a double-cheeseburger with fries and all the trimmings for Jim. The waiter beamed at him and held out his hands for the menus. He snapped his fingers and their wine glasses were instantly filled. Soft music began playing in the background. A breadbasket appeared as though summoned there by magic. Jim found himself hard-pressed not to roll his eyes. He stared hard at the waiter, noticing for the first time that there was a small name tag pinned to the elaborate robes that had the letter Q written on it in old-fashioned Standard calligraphy.

"Q? Is that your name?"

The waiter bowed, smirking. "At your service, Mon Capitán. You meal will be out shortly."

"Awesome."

"Captain, may I ask a personal query?" Spock took a small sip of his wine and raised an eyebrow. He paused for a moment then took a larger sip with apparent pleasure.

Jim nodded, grabbing a breadstick out of the basket. He took a cautious bite and tried not to moan as the buttery, garlicy flavors exploded on his tongue. He didn't know how this could possibly be real, but there was no denying the taste of un-replicated food. It was incredible.

"The word 'Awesome' appears in your spoken vocabulary approximately 28% of the time. Yet clearly your facial expressions would seem to indicate that you do not find the situation 'Awesome.' Quite the reverse."

"Sarmurmpph."

Spock's eyebrow raised at just that angle made it quite clear that Jim had just done something unforgivably disgusting.

"Is speaking with your mouth full of food customary in Human dating rituals? Granted my experience with this subject is rather limited, but my mother had always taught me that it was quite uncouth."

Jim wished for a moment that he was off somewhere in space. Or, well, farther off. He knew his face was bright red as he swallowed the bite of bread and took a small sip of his wine. It was exquisite, the flavor bursting on his tongue. "Your mom was right. Not a dating ritual. I'm sorry, sometimes my table manners are lacking. I learned to eat quickly when I was a kid and the habit stuck. But you have to taste these breadsticks. They're fuc… er.. great." He took another sip of wine. "And to answer your question, when I say 'Awesome it's usually sarcastic. But not always." He grinned again.

Spock took his own breadstick, and they were quiet for a moment, neither quite sure what to say. The silence grew from compatible, to awkward, to strained as they both looked around at the view. A small nebula was visible to one side of the table, a kaleidoscope of different hues folding in and around itself. The sight was breathtaking.

"So what are Vulcan dating rituals?" Jim blurted into the silence. "I mean what would you normally do?"

"I imagine much the same on a date with a Human. We share a meal, then indulge in conversation mutually beneficial to the accumulation of shared logic. And you, Captain? What do you normally do on a date?"

Jim rubbed the back of his neck. "I ahh.. can't say that I've been on many dates, really. I usually skip that part." His smile was wolfish as he grinned at Spock. Spock's eyebrow twitched in a way that managed to convey great displeasure. Jim bit back the smile immediately and assumed a facial expression more appropriate for a funeral. "But I think most of us just talk, figure out about each other's interests, maybe hold hands and make out a little…"

There was a flash of light and Q appeared, holding both of their meals on a tray balanced on his shoulder. "Here you go! Eat up." He smiled and disappeared before either Jim or Spock could ask him anything.

"Why a cheeseburger?"

"Does it not meet with your approval?"

Jim was in the process of stacking the onion, tomato and lettuce on top of the gooey, cheesy patty of meat, but looked up at Spock's question. "It does! God it does. It looks fucking incredible. I was just surprised that you knew this was my favorite. The replicators always try, but they can't quite get it exactly right. And Bones freaks out whenever he sees me eat one. He calls them 'death in your col-' er… well. Nevermind. But he's not a fan." He smooshed the bun down over the towering burger and picked the whole thing up. Grease and a little juice from the burger dripped down his hand. Jim switched his grip to a one-handed and licked the side of his hand, closing his eyes as the flavors burst on his tongue. "Ohhh. God. This is so good."

With his eyes shut, he missed the way Spock's eyes widened, and the slight, sudden intake of breath.

Jim began to eat, unable to help the tiny little moans and other appreciative noises quiet as he devoured his dinner.

Spock, a vegetarian who normally wouldn't be at all interested watching anyone eat meat, could not look away, watching Jim's startlingly blue eyes go half-lidded, hearing the breathy little moans he repeated as ate. "I… remembered. Sir. From the meal we shared while in San Francisco. You ordered the same thing."

Jim put down the burger and paused, wiping his mouth on his napkin. He remembered the dinner very well. The entire bridge crew, plus McCoy, had all shown up for dinner and drinks before the hearing that had given Jim his Enterprise. Spock had shown up with Uhura and had sat a little apart from everyone, clearly observing their antics.

"Well, thanks. This is incredible. Is your food as good?"

Spock looked down at his untouched plate and began eating, cutting his food into precise pieces before swallowing. "Indeed."

Jim picked up his burger again, but before he could actually take another bite, there was the familiar flash of light.

****

When it cleared, he and Spock were standing in the conference room, the sound of the doors shutting behind them still echoing in the small space.

Jim was still holding the last bit of the cheeseburger; Spock was still in the process of chewing his bite of vegetables.

"Captain, I have the Admiral when you're ready."

Jim craned his neck around the room as though expecting Q to jump out of the bulkhead. "Uh… sure, Uhura. Thanks."

"Yes sir."

The conference room had a large viewscreen, an only slightly smaller version of the main viewscreen on the Bridge. It took up the entirety of one wall of the conference room. The far wall had a view of space. The other wall had some computer equipment and a replicator, and the door they just walked in was directly opposite the viewscreen, so that when Christopher Pike was transferred to the conference room, he had a full view of Spock and Jim standing side by side, Jim still clutching his half-eaten cheeseburger.

He looked from the Vulcan who politely swallowed the bite of food, to the young Captain who looked as though someone had just pulled a very elaborate trick on him. "What, did you guys stop off for snacks? Have a seat."

Jim collapsed into a chair, staring wild-eyed at Pike. He looked at the cheeseburger, sniffing it suspiciously. He started to set it on the table and thought better of it, staring helplessly around for something on which to place it.

Spock didn't roll his eyes, but his eyebrow spoke volumes as he walked the few steps to the replicator and ordered a small cloth. He handed it to his Captain without a word and sat down, focusing his attention to the viewscreen as though he hadn't just spent the better part of an hour floating around in space with his Captain.

"So… yeah. Your first real mission. I meant it when I said it was going to take some diplomacy. Thank god you have Spock there to keep you from doing anything improper."

"Hey! I took and passed all those classes on the command track." Jim picked absently at a piece of the cheeseburger, popping it into his mouth and moaning a little in joy as it hit his taste buds. He opened his eyes to find Pike staring at him as though he'd lost his mind, and Spock with one eyebrow raised so high that Jim thought he might have accidentally sprained the darn thing.

"Yes, of course you did Jim. But this… is a little different. Starfleet is not normally in the habit of catering to the needs of individual Federation hopefuls, but in this case…" He trailed off, looking unhappy for a moment. He sighed. "In this case, we don't have much of a choice. Nero's insanity has left us without a good many of the supplies we have come to depend on. Finding new deposits of those minerals, such as dilithium, has become a priority. Your mission, Jim is to go and get those Gohdarians firmly on the side of the Federation. There is man, a Ruler Jordun who has… asked for you specifically."

Jim blinked again, picking at a pickle and popping it in his mouth. He chewed, then swallowed."Wow. That's a long way to go for a booty call."

Pike looked pained.

"I'm sorry, sir. A 'booty call'?"

"I'll explain it later, Spock. Why would they ask for me, Chris? That seems really weird. I mean, I am pretty new at this whole Captain thing, but they asked for me… specifically?"

"You did sort of save the Earth, Jim."

Jim stood up and ran his fingers through his hair, beginning to pace back and forth as he thought. He could feel the Admiral's and Spock's eyes following him as he burnt off some of his nervous energy. "It still sounds a little like a booty call, Admiral. It wasn't like I was alone in… doing all that. Why me? Why not Spock? Or Chekov? Or Sulu? Everyone did everything so well, like some well-oiled machine…" He trailed off.

"Well, Jim I do have a video that might answer that question." There was a look of such unholy joy on the Admiral's face that even Spock raised his eyebrow with curiosity.

"Awesome." Jim flopped back down in his seat and started picking at his cheeseburger again, watching as Pike cued up the holovid.

"Is this on? Hello? Hello?" The sound of feedback caused both Spock and Jim to wince. "Hi! My name is Jordun Kah'ous. I am the Head Council of the Governors of Gohdar IV." The humanoid that was speaking looked to be roughly twenty-two or twenty-three years of Terran age. He had several earrings in one ear and had long, flowing bright blue hair, cut to showcase his perfect heart-shaped face. His skin was also a pale blue, with large doe-like eyes. He didn't seem to have a nose, instead breathing through small gill-like openings on the sides of his neck. "I know that we are in heavy negotiations with your Federation of Planets. The Elders say that joining with your Federation could bring danger to our planet, that it would wipe out our natural resources and assimilate our culture. I disagree." He tilted his head, looking into the camera with all the earnestness of youth. "I followed your news broadcasts quite closely. I know quite a bit about your history and your culture. In particular I have come to admire a Captain in your Starfleet. His name is James. T. Kirk."

Jim fought the urge to sink down in his seat.

"He is a beautiful man. Very brave and noble. I would like to get to know such a fine specimen of your Federation." The boy-ruler on the screen looked blissful. He ran a bright blue tongue over his lips and looked adoringly at the photograph he was holding. It was Jim, wearing his red Academy uniform, grinning unabashedly into the camera. His smile seemed very white in his tan face. Jordun sighed gustily and then seemed to remember he was addressing someone on camera. He made a strange trilling sound, as though he were clearing his throat. "I do have a controlling vote on our council. There are many younger members who feel can see the benefits of a close partnership," the boy said eyes running over Jim's picture, "With the Federation. I eagerly await your response. Jordun Kah'ous, out." The holovid went blank. Admiral Pike's face appeared again in the viewscreen. He wasn't even trying to hide his laughter at this point. Jim, watching horrified from his conference chair squirmed lower in his seat.

"Oh my god. Awesome. This is… oh my god. So my first real mission is… to Planet Fanboy? Chris? Admiral? Admiral, it is really unprofessional to laugh like that during a debriefing. Also, I hate you."

Both of Spock's eyebrows were raised as he watched the interplay between the two men.

The Admiral was laughing hard now, unable to actually unable to speak coherently. He just nodded, wiping tears from his eyes, wheezing with the effort of trying to speak, wagging a finger in Jim's direction.

Jim thunked his head against the table. "I am so glad Bones hasn't seen this. He would be playing that at every party for the rest of my natural life." He raised his head. "Fine. We'll divert our course over to our 'highly sensitive diplomatic mission'. You bastard. Kirk out."

Jim looked forlornly at the rest of his cheeseburger. It was mostly gone, aside from a slight piece of burnt cheese and the crispy bun it had sat on.

The silence in the conference room was a relief.

"Kirk to Ensign Chekov. Please plot in a course for the coordinates sent with the Admiral's transmission. Thanks. Kirk out." He took a deep breath, looking over at his First Officer. "Well, Spock. I don't know what to discuss first. I mean, that cheeseburger is real. Unless I'm still dreaming or something, which is possible I guess."

"Captain, there is an infinitesimal likelihood that we could be sharing the exact same hallucination. However, the physical remnants of our meal together were indeed as you say…real. Far more curious would be this being's motivation for…"

A flash of light interrupted Spock's speech.

****

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Captain, I request that you do… not… move." Spock's comment sounded suspiciously like an order. Jim's eyes, which had squeezed shut immediately after the slight ringing accompanying the flash of light faded, popped open in surprise.

There was a gust of wind. Jim's fingers clutched convulsively on the rope. His eyes slammed shut again.

They had appeared in a lush jungle. This wouldn't have been enough to cause Jim's panic, except for the fact that he was caught in a net… with his First Officer.

Suspended several hundred feet off the ground.

The net had initially been loose enough that there had been a good five inches or so separating the two men from touching, but when Jim had opened his eyes to see himself dangling from the large tree, his panic had caused him to tighten his hands on the rope net. His quick motion had caused the net to start to swing, swaying in the wind. It also caused the net to tighten around them.

"I'm not…I can't…" Jim fisted his hands still tighter on the net, wincing when the ropes around his back, butt and thighs also tightened, in effect pushing him towards Spock.

"Captain. Jim. I suspect this will be quite unpleasant for the both of us if I am not able to sufficiently solidify my shields. Please. Try not to move."

Jim did try, he really did, but he could feel the silvery sharp bursts of panic sneaking in past his defenses. "Wh-why unpleasant? I'm not that horrible to be around, right? Although I think I have some onion breath left over. Oh god why does the wind have to be blowing? I hate wind. Wind is now the suckiest thing, ever."

Jim could hear Spock gritting his teeth. He tried to shut his mouth from babbling, not wanting to piss the Vulcan off. Again. He forced his breath out, then sucked it back in slowly.

"As I am sure you are aware," Spock's voice, which had slid into his lecture mode, was calm. "My species are touch telepaths, Captain. Coming into full body contact without sufficient shielding would be quite… regrettable."

"Oh." Jim peeked out of one eye. Spock looked completely calm, aside from the small muscle ticking in his jaw. Jim watched it, fascinated. "So does it have to be skin-to-skin contact or can you pick things up randomly?"

"My training in Vulcan mental exercises has assured complete control in my facilities. I simply required a moment to…" The wind gusted again, sending the ropes creaking. Jim squeaked, flinging out his arms, tightening his fingers on the ropes. Predictably, the ropes tightened, pushing the two men closer, sending arms and legs tangling together. Jim tried extremely hard to arrange himself so that his bare skin didn't touch any part of Spock's bare skin.

"Um, shit. Sorry." Jim's face was pressed against Spock's chest, his mouth almost directly where his heart would be were he wholly human.

"Indeed. I find your statement, while metaphorically and graphically unpleasant, to be not entirely inaccurate."

They were quiet for a moment. Jim smiled into Spock's chest. "So can you read my mind?"

"Negative. Although I do have a personal query."

"Um, you can just ask. You don't need to get permission. I don't mind."

"Your actions would seem to indicate you are panicked. Given your previous actions, I find this sudden reaction… illogical."

Jim shifted, wincing as the rope cut into his arm. "Don't freak out, but I need to move my arm a little." He did, resting his wrist lightly against Spock's sharp hip bone. "I just have.. a thing with heights. Sorry Spock, I know this is still completely awkward for you."

"Please explain. You, Lieutenant Sulu and Ensign Olson jumped out of a shuttlecraft over my planet to land on the drilling device moments before the planet… expired."

Jim shifted, feeling uncomfortable. He had a sudden clear memory of Spock's face as he beamed back, still reaching for his mother. "Well. That was different. Trust me, I was still scared shitless, but that needed to be done. I didn't have time to be scared." This was true. The six months of nightmares where he and Sulu crashed into the middle of Vulcan came later. The wind kicked up again, causing the small net to swing wildly. Jim bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut at the feeling of vertigo.

Spock's voice was strangely gentle when he spoke. "Captain, please do not be alarmed. I will not let you fall."

Jim felt one of Spock's arms rest on his shoulders, while the other came to rest on his hip, mirroring his own.

He gave a shaky laugh. "Yeah, but what about you?"

"I will not let me fall either."

Jim's eyes popped wide open. He would have tilted his head back to see Spock's expression, but the ropes were too tight. He snorted, resting his forehead against Spock's chest again. They were quiet for a moment, the only sound the rush of wind though the leaves of the tree and the occasional rocking sound of the ropes.

"Sorry about this." Jim said again. He wasn't sure why he whispered, but it seemed appropriate.

"You are not at fault."

"Still, being stuck so intimately with one of your least favorite, overly emotional humans must be… well. 'Less than pleasant', to coin a phrase."

There were several beats of silence. Jim concentrated on his breathing, slowly feeling his panic drain away. Instead of their situation being terrifying, he slowly felt more and more comforted. Every time he started to feel embarrassed or nervous, Spock would move his wrist, or adjust his hand as it rested on Jim's shoulder, and the feeling of embarrassment would dissipate.

"When I was young," Spock's voice was also pitched low enough as to not disturb the strangely tranquil mood. "My mother would insist that I help her in her garden. Particularly, she was not fond of a specific type of arachnid that thrived near her roses. Indeed, she would insist that they would follow her around with the intent of doing her physiological and psychological harm. I did not understand her aversion to the lifeform, as she made a specific point of cultivating the roses, their natural habitat, so that they would grow in the harsh climate of my home."

Jim's eyes were wide again. He bit his lip to keep from speaking.

"On my sixth birthday, I desired to study this arachnid so that I could better understand my mother's aversion to the species. I went early into her garden and began to capture each and every one that I could find. There were thirty-six, all in various stages of growth. I had used a specific kind of specimen jar that allowed them to move around freely. My tutor called me to my studies, and I placed the jar near my bed. It was perhaps unfortunate that my mother chose that particular day to clean my room; an unnecessary practice in which she nonetheless insisted on partaking."

Spock waited a moment.

"It was perhaps more unfortunate that I had not fully secured the lid on the jar. Her scream was quite… piercing."

Jim couldn't help the snort and grin.

"I do understand the human concept of 'having a phobia', Jim, and your reaction is not something you are able to control."

Jim was silent for a moment; processing the fact that Spock had basically just told him a story to make him feel better. "So… do you have a theory on why this is happening? To us, I mean. It's kinda weird."

"It would seem that this being, this, Q, is inquisitive about aspects of our behavior. While his methods of experimentation are highly illogical, they do seem to be producing results."

Jim yawned, rubbing his rose against Spock's chest in lieu of being able to cover his mouth. "'sults?"

Spock cleared his throat and shifted slightly away from Jim's body. He moved his hand so that it brushed against the back of Jim's neck with a feather light touch. It was his duty, after all, to ascertain the captain's mental state, and this was the most expedient way of doing so. The touch was so light that Spock could only read the very topmost of Jim's thoughts. He caught a brief jumble of /warm/content/sleepy, and allowed himself the smallest sense of satisfaction, feeling gratified that he had managed to help his Captain in separating himself from the chaotic feelings of panic and terror from earlier.

Spock waited a few more moments to compose his thoughts. When he spoke, his voice was the barest rumble of sound. "Indeed. He has provided a situation and I would postulate is watching us, waiting to see how we react to each situation." Spock could feel by the gradual heaviness of the captain's limbs and the deep, even breathing indicating that the human had fallen asleep.

It was a cruel jolt to experience the flash of light again, leaving them back in the brightly-lit conference room. They appeared instantly, still tangled together. They both landed on their feet, springing apart, the easy, intimate connection from moments ago completely forgotten. Jim ran a hand along the back of his neck, completely disoriented, and humiliated that he had actually fallen asleep. He could feel himself blushing. All the embarrassment he had kept at bay while in the net flooded back in a rush.

"I'm... ah. Just going to… go. To my quarters. I have some paperwork to catch up on." He was babbling again, but couldn't stifle the desire to escape from the awkwardness of their situation. "Talk to you later, Spock." Without waiting for an explanation, he turned and left, practically jogging down the corridor in his haste.

Spock stared after him. Slowly, he bent over to pick up a leaf that had been lodged in his Captain's hair, curling his fingers around it protectively.

****

With a flash of light, Q and Guinan appeared in what looked like an office. Q sat at a desk, hair in disarray. . There was a mug of what smelled like coffee, growing cold near his elbow. He had found a pair of glasses, which sat perched on the end of his nose. His shoulders were hunched over the desk, the lone lamp illuminating the large stack of books scattered all over the surface of the desk. Q would reach for one, flip through several pages, and make a note on a pad of paper sitting next to him. He could be heard muttering faintly under his breath.

Guinan stretched a little, peering over Q's shoulder. "He's using … these… for research?"

The other Q nodded, already bored with the scene. "It would appear so. Why. Is something amiss?"

Guinan looked over at the stack of books. All of them seemed to be roughly the same length. They had been loosely organized into two separate piles. One pile had bright red covers, with pictures of attractive men and women in various compromising situations. On each one the couple seemed to be looking broodingly into one another's eyes, or stormily off into the distance. The other, larger, pile had one thing in common. Each of the overly muscled men on the cover seemed to have wardrobe issues. Various shades of voluminous shirts, tucked haphazardly into tight breeches, seemed to be blowing off of their shoulders in a way that revealed wide stripes of manly, muscled chest.

She grinned widely. "Oh, no. Nothing's amiss, exactly. In fact,I think this will be quite educational for him." She grabbed a couple of the paperback books and stuffed them into her pocket, noticing that several parts in each book had a folded-over page.

Q, still completely oblivious to their presence, was muttering under his breath again. The look on his face was pure determination.

***

"What the hell is your problem?"

"Hi Bones."

"Hi yourself. What's the deal, kid? You've been moping around my Sickbay for twenty minutes."

"I was not moping. Captains do not mope."

"Bullshit."

Jim made a face at his friend's back. He followed Bones into his office, staring blindly at the weird skulls and artifacts displayed on the shelves behind him. There was a picture of his daughter, a few PADDs of medical journals, and a whole lot of empty space. Leonard McCoy was not one to accumulate a lot of knickknacks. The door swished shut behind him and Jim sprawled in one of the uncomfortable visitors' chairs. Jim knew that Bones kept them uncomfortable on purpose, to discourage anyone from staying too long. Jim had been the one to sign off on the chair swap.

"Bones… I have. A problem. A big problem."

The doctor rolled his eyes. "Itchy, burning sensation? Any pustules?"

"Oh forget it." Jim sprung up, frowning. He turned away, missing the look of surprise on his friend's face.

"Hey. Wait a minute, Jim. Sit. Relax. Jesus." Bones half-stood with alarm.

"No, it's fine." He ran his hands through his hair, causing it to stand on end. "I'll catch you later. I've got Bridge duty." He forced a smile that didn't fool Bones for an instant and walked out of Sickbay, walking quickly with his shoulders hunched over.

"Doctor? I'm sorry for the interruption, but Ensign Lowery is having complications."

"Damnit." By the time Bones was free from his duties, Alpha shift was almost over and he had forgotten about the strange scene in his office, distracted by his own duties as Chief Medical Officer.

 

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PART TWO