Flash Wednesday, September 04, 2019

As you will see, things do not go so well for our clueless Vulcan. Wonder what’s up!

After he left Nyota’s quarters, Spock went to their captain’s, but there had been no answer. Spock felt a mixture of relief and disappointment. He was not certain he was at all prepared to acknowledge the possibility that Nyota’s speculation might be correct. But he also found those occasions when he spent time with the captain to be preferable to making do with merely himself.

He had not made any specific plans to see Jim, however, anticipating spending his evening with Nyota, so he had no right to feel that Jim should have been there to see Spock.

The next morning, Spock stopped by the captain’s quarters as was his usual practice on the way to the mess for breakfast. There was no response to his attempt to rouse his captain.

With a slight frown, Spock stepped over to the computer on the wall. “Computer, locate Captain James Kirk.”

“Captain Kirk is in the mess room, Deck 7.”

Spock knew that he was not late, but knowing Jim’s sleep patterns were often not ideal, he made his way to Deck 7 and the mess.

There he found Jim sitting in a corner at a table reserved for only two, which was not at all his usual practice. But as Spock approached, Jim’s gaze flicked up to Spock’s face and it gave Spock no little pause.   

There was absolute blankness there. Not sorrow, not anger, not happiness. No emotion at all. Which was also unlike Jim.  

Still, Spock was used to both having breakfast with Jim and his mood swings, so he made to take the seat opposite Jim.

“Good morning, Captain.”

He expected Jim’s usual banter or perhaps a reminder to call him Jim, but instead he got a curt, “Commander.”

Spock’s uneasiness grew, but he quelled it for the moment. “I was surprised you had already left for breakfast.”

“Were you?”

“You generally wait for me.”

The captain nodded. “Didn’t feel the need. And I’m done, actually, so if you’ll excuse me…”

His gaze swept over Jim’s mostly untouched food. Jim never left food. Not long after their fight with Krall, while still on Yorktown, Jim had confessed to Spock one night over chess that he’d been on Tarsus and wasting food was anathema to him.  

“Jim…”

But the captain was standing and pushing back his chair. “I’ll see you the bridge, Mister Spock.”

Spock nodded, tamping down his unease once more. “Chess to—”

“No.”

“You are busy?”

“No. I just don’t want to. Bridge, Mister Spock.”

And then Jim was gone and Spock was left staring at his uneaten food.