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Jim wordlessly handed Spock a mug of tea from the replicator. He then proceeded to get himself a cup of something much stronger, the last three days had been an absolute shit-show.
Turning around, he took a long swig of the synthehol, momentarily pondering whether to go and ask for something from Bones’ secret stash. But he wasn’t looking to get drunk, just to wash away some memories and send him into peaceful slumber in an hour or two.
Spock looked up at him expectantly from the sofa, data padd in hand. They still had paperwork to finish before it was finally time to rest. Jim had suggested they finish it all up this evening, so that tomorrow they could turn an entirely new leaf. But now, faced with the task ahead, Jim felt he may have underestimated how exhausted he was.
“Right. Let’s get this over with Mr Spock.”
Jim sprawled on the cushions next to his first officer, who shifted his body slightly to face him. Spock looked as if he were about to speak and then instead glanced down at the screen of the padd, then looked back up again at Jim’s face.
“With all due respect Captain,” he began, “I am unsure as to whether it would be to your benefit to complete these reports in your current condition. I propose we wait until you have had the opportunity to sleep, as you have not done so for at least the last 67.3 hours, to my knowledge.”
Jim made as if to protest, levering his body more upright with one arm. Spock continued to speak.
“The admiralty does not expect the reports to be filed until tomorrow afternoon. It is not imperative they be completed presently. Additionally, immediately upon your return, you ordered that the other members of the away team to go straight to their quarters to sleep. As well as take the next few days off all their duties. Thusly, I cannot conclude that you are oblivious to the strain of the last few days. So perhaps, to risk quoting Dr McCoy, you should adhere to your own orders.”
“Spock…” Jim started and then stopped. Spock inclined his head as he waited for Jim’s response.
Jim inhaled deeply and placed down his glass, shuffling his body on the cushions, uncomfortable in his current, slouched position. “Spock, when I wake up tomorrow, I wish to never have to think about that mission ever again. I never want to hear the words ‘Malon’ and ‘Prime’ ever again. I never want to think about what almost happened. And for that matter, what actually did happen. Tomorrow will be a new day.” Jim paused, a wry smile just touching the corners of his expression. “So, Mr Spock, that is why we will finish the reports this evening. So tomorrow can be a normal day.”
“I regret to inform you of a slight… failing of logic in your plan, Sir.” Spock said neutrally. Jim huffed irritably.
“And what would that be, Mr Spock?” he asked ruefully, wriggling around on the cushions again, continuing on quickly before Spock could make his response; “And drop the ‘Sir’s and the ‘Captain’s, okay? We’re off duty for christ’s sake.”
“Gladly, Jim. Though, in that case, you must simply address me as Spock.”
“As you wish.” Jim smiled ruefully, “we really are having an absolute field day with my hypocrisies, tonight, aren’t we?”
Spock thankfully, ignored his spiteful, rhetorical question. “As I was going to inform you Captain, there are flaws in your logic. Tomorrow morning there will be a senior and bridge crew debrief of the mission. And, tomorrow afternoon, a debrief with Starfleet. It would be very difficult indeed to complete your duties tomorrow without acknowledging the mission.”
Jim deigned to reply to Spock’s observations, just grunting in recognition as he tried in vain to sit comfortably. His back muscles and diaphragm complaining profoundly. He stood quickly, frustration written clearly on his face, he glanced toward his sleeping quarters and then back to where Spock was sat, indecisive.
“Jim,” Spock stated, his eyes on his friend’s slightly feverish movements, “may I inquire as to what is causing you discomfort and distress? Is there need for me to contact Dr McCoy?”
“What? No.” Jim shot Spock a quick look before heading into his bedroom. “Just, I’ll be back in a moment okay?”
Once out of view of the main room where Spock sat, Jim tugged off his shirt swiftly with one hand. He then peeled his chest binder off slowly, feeling his chest expand in relief. It wasn’t exceptionally tight, as some binders were concerned, but he hadn’t been able to take a break from wearing it for almost as long as Spock said he hasn’t slept for. And that was unhealthy.
Quick as he could, while studiously avoiding seeing his shirtless reflection, Jim pulled on a loose, regulation-black, long-sleeved top. It looked rather too large for his frame, but hid as much as was possible.
“Just, don’t judge me,” he called back into the main room, “I know you won’t, or at least I hope you won’t.” Jim rambled as he walked back into the main room. “And if you don’t understand, that’s okay, I’ll explain, just…”
Trepidation and nerves ran rampant in Jim’s gut as he turned to his first officer, the air felt heavy around his chest and on his tongue as he trailed off into silence.
Spock looked Jim up and down. Thoughts clearly processed behind his eyes but not even an eyebrow moved out of place on his Vulcan façade. He looked into Jim’s eyes calmly.
“Jim,” Spock’s voice was level and calm, “I swear I am not, as you put it, ‘judging you’. I never would without good reason.”
Spock substituted the inferred air-quotes for a slight eyebrow raise. The effect was identical.
“I cannot think of any circumstance wherein I would think you to be any less the man, captain, and friend you have proven yourself to be.” Spock paused, and Jim tensed, sensing a ‘but’.
“However, I must admit, that I do not wholly understa-“
“I’m trans,” Jim blurted, interrupting Spock. “I’m trans, Spock. And I know it’s not a big deal, and I don’t let it be. I’ve never let my work be affected. But, here, on the enterprise? Only Bones knows. And now, well, you as well. I don’t want it to be common knowledge, though.”
Spock opened his mouth to speak, but Jim held up a hand to silence him before walking forward to sit back down on the sofa, continuing to speak.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ashamed. It’s just Starfleet isn’t always the most accepting or understanding of things, especially with various minorities. I know you understand that.”
Jim looked at Spock meaningfully, chin resting on his fist, elbow resting on his knee. “To be really honest with you Spock? I don’t know why I’m so afraid for people to know. I know that, logically, it detracts nothing from my ability as a Starfleet officer, or my ability to captain this ship. But… that doesn’t exactly make it any less terrifying, y’know?”
Smiling slightly, Jim broke eye contact and picked up his drink again. Taking a small sip, he watched Spock’s hand reach for the mug of tea in his peripheral vision.
“Jim,” Spock started, obviously weighing his words carefully. “As you stated, your gender and sex, and the relationship of the two, has no bearing on who you are or how I view you, or how capable you are at your job.”
“If anything,” Spock continued after a pause, “I feel… gratified that you entrust, to me, a clearly private piece of information. I will not share what I have learnt with anyone. For, as I previously said, it bears no import in our professional lives, nor our relationship off-duty, either. But I would like to thank you, Jim. I can see that sharing this was not easy for you.”
Jim smiled at Spock warmly. “Thank you. Spock.” Jim spoke slowly, his eyes fixed on Spock’s, on the warmth they revealed from beneath the mask.
“Now, as they say; down to business.” Jim exclaimed after a long moment, holding out his hand for Spock to pass him the padd. Spock complied, their fingertips momentarily coming into contact during the exchange. Jim looked up at Spock as he realised this, he knew a little of the nature of Vulcan hands. Spock simply quirked an eyebrow and a corner of his lip, a smile, of sorts.
“I do still believe,” he replied, a sparkle of his own brand of humour in his eyes, “that it would be wise to complete this task in the morning, after a time of repose."
Smirking, Jim simply stated, “and I say, there’s no time like the present, Mr Spock. Now what do Starfleet want to know?”