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Title:    Anxieties
Author:   Hypatia
Contact:  athena_sappho at yahoo.com
Series:   TOS
Part:     1/1
Rating:   G
Codes:    K/S  
Summary:  Kirk cheers Spock up after a trying experience.
Archive:  ASC*
Feedback: Please. I'm always interested in how people react to this 
          stuff.
Note:     Thanks to Selek, T'Rhys and Lee for helpful feedback. If 
          any of this is better than the last version, I owe it to 
          all of you.

Anxieties

     Once, after a particularly grueling day, the Captain and First 
Officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise were to be found sitting in the 
Captain's quarters, going over the day's events until they could 
really take no more of it. Kirk was hunched over his desk, mentally 
and physically exhausted, while the Vulcan sat at stiff attention, 
lacking the energy to manage anything else. Carrying on grimly, like 
a good soldier, thought Kirk. Spock had been taxed to the limit of 
his emotional reserves and had not had a moment to himself to 
recover. But, naturally, he would never admit to any mortal 
weakness; Spock would hold his head high until he was safely within 
*his* quarters, where he would presumably sleep and meditate. Kirk 
envied the Vulcan in a way; he himself felt antsy, despite the 
fatigue. It was likely that his cares -- the anxieties and concerns 
associated with the responsibilities of being ship's captain -- 
would keep him up most of the night.

     "Let's call it a night," declared Kirk, interrupting Spock from 
a somewhat rambling report on ship's status. When Spock looked up, he 
continued. "We're both too far gone to get anything done. Besides," 
he added, flicking his eyes towards his terminal screen and back, 
"'s'past 2300."

     "Of course, Captain. Shall we reconvene in the morning?"

     "Sure. Spock, look, at this hour you can drop the formal 
address, okay? I'm just about wasted anyway. It's not like I'd know 
to care."

     I care, thought Spock. The request to drop formality could not 
be but purposeful. Did Kirk mean to ask for something? And if so, 
what?

     "Jim . . . is there some way I could be of assistance?"

     "No, it's all right, Spock. I can see you're beat too." 

     Spock had been among humans long enought to know that a polite 
refusal was customary, and not to be taken literally. "I insist. You 
seem tense. May I?" and without futher ado Spock walked around the 
desk and began to massage Kirk's shoulders.

     The relief to the Human was immediate. Kirk felt himself begin 
to drift off . . . Spock led him over to his bunk and helped him 
remove his boots and socks. Kirk crawled into the bunk under his own 
power and Spock pulled up the covers. Spock's head was close to 
Kirk's and the latter whispered "Thank you" before falling asleep.

     Spock walked out of the sleeping area, shut off the lights and 
headed for his own cabin. By the time he got there, he was beginning 
to recognize a familiar, oppressive emotion in himself. Loneliness -- 
tinged with resentment? He never questioned his duty to serve, but 
Jim had promised to take care of him, and here he was, alone. Perhaps 
it was unreasonable to expect anything from the Captain after such a 
strenuous day, but hadn't he, too, suffered, and didn't he, too, 
deserve someone's comfort and concern?

     Out of habit, Spock flicked the power switch of his terminal to 
"on" and checked first his files, then his messages. A computer 
analysis begun that afternoon was still compiling seven hours later, 
he noted, which meant that system resources had been taxed for much 
of that period; unfortunate, but not surprising. His mind was really 
on the question of whether it was logical to be disappointed in Jim 
as a friend and intimate partner simply because it was beyond his 
human abilities to attend to Spock's every need. Every *emotional* 
need, Spock was thinking to himself with his particular brand of 
self-loathing, when he saw that there was one message from the 
Captain not marked "Cpt JT Kirk" but rather "Jim."

     He opened the message. It read:

               A tender heart, a noble mind, 
               The only creature of his kind; 
               He shows us all what we could be:
               That is what "Spock" means to me.

          Buck up, Spock! I know the past few days have 
          been difficult, but handling these kinds of 
          crises is what they pay us the big bucks for, 
          right? I know I've been demanding lately, but 
          you know I just want every member of the crew of 
          this ship to do the best work they are capable 
          of. I know you are capable of more than even you 
          believe. So cheer up, Spock, and don't beat 
          yourself up over things you can't change. You're 
          doing just fine.

          -JTK

     Spock read the verse again, feeling more than a little 
embarrassed. It's not even perfect iambic verse, he told himself, but 
he was secretly pleased. Jim knew how to make him feel special and 
loved.

      Still, it was embarrassing. Perfectionist that he was, Spock 
could find the "but" to any laud. 

      After years of being an outcast, Spock had more or less come to 
believe that he was simply lacking whatever it took to interact with 
people effectively. His change in status, since Jim had taken command 
of the Enterprise and attempted, ever so gently, to befriend him, had 
taken some getting used to. But he also craved Jim's attention and 
approval badly; impressing his commanding officers had been one of 
his few sources of satisfaction during his Starfleet career, and he 
had been eager to please Captain Kirk above all others. More 
troubling, at least to his self-image as a Vulcan, was his 
realization of how dearly he wanted to be loved and appreciated.

     Spock sat back and shut off the screen. I must be a fairly 
pathetic creature, he thought to himself, if all it takes is a silly 
poem to change my mood. He was trying to make me smile, realized 
Spock, who was fighting off that very reflex as he thought of it. It 
takes so little from him to get to me.

     As Spock lay in his bunk, slightly curled on his side, he 
supposed that he had not had a particularly happy life until now. He 
had become accustomed early in life to being shunned, or worse, 
singled out for abuse, and had consequently pushed away anyone who 
tried to get close to him. It was a strange and frightening thing to 
put his heart in Jim's hands. He, who had relied on himself for 
everything, now found himself wanting and needing so much from 
another person. But, thought Spock, he loves me. He knows. He was 
thinking of me even when there was much else to occupy him. Filled 
with a feeling of security, Spock fell into a deep and pleasant sleep.

                               -fin-


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