A continuation of Wednesday’s flash

Spock opened the door to his nephew wearing a “Squad” T-shirt. For a moment, Spock just blinked at him.

“I am here for the celebratory festivities,” Vanik announced with aplomb.

With a slight hesitation, Spock stepped aside to let the boy into the apartment he shared with Jim.

“Jim has not yet arrived home.”

Vanik frowned slightly. “I was certain of the time I was told to arrive.”

“Yes, I realize,” Spock replied. “Jim is late.”

And Spock had been growing concerned.

When Vanik had knocked, Spock had briefly felt a sense of relief, figuring Jim had knocked because he had his arms full of purchases he wished assistance with. But, alas, no, it was only Vanik.

He had sent messages to Jim’s communication device with an increasing sense of desperation. He figured when Jim finally saw the messages he’d think Spock was his stalker.

“What time was Jim expected?” Vanik wondered.

“An hour ago.”

Even as the words were out of his mouth, Spock’s communicator chirped.

A moment later, he closed it. “There has been an accident.”

****

“I’m perfectly sound, I assure you,” Jim said, as Spock brought him to their apartment sometime later. “I just have a few bumps and scrapes.”

“It’s the bumps that concern me. To bed with to rest, at once.”

“Spock—”

“It is the only reason they released you to my care, was my promise you would rest in bed for the night.”

Jim glanced in Vanik’s direction, who followed glumly behind them. He looked back at Spock. “Christmas in July—”

“Will have to be canceled,” Spock said shortly. “Rest.” Spock practically carried Jim into their room and set him on the bed. “You nearly gave me a heart attack which for a Vulcan is not easy.”

“Well.” Jim smiled and clasped his hand. “I didn’t do it on purpose.” His gaze went once more to the boy standing just inside the doorway. “I could rest on the couch.”

“Uncle Spock is right. You’re staying in bed is more important.”

But even Spock heard the waver in Vanik’s voice as Jim stared at Spock with raised eyebrows.

Spock sighed, getting his mate’s thoughts loud and clear. “I have an idea.”

****

A short time later, Jim was propped up on the bed, wearing his Christmas in July T-shirt, and two chairs had been brought into the bedroom, one occupied by a more cheerful a  Vanik munching on a gingerbread Vulcan, and the first movie starting on the large screen Spock had moved there.

“Thank you,” Jim mouthed to Spock and then blew him a kiss. “Want a cookie?”

“Yes I will—”

“Shh,” Vanik said. “The movie is starting.”