Somewhere, In Space

"If we do not cut the simulation, he runs the risk of brain damage," Spock said. His younger counter-part didn't really smile so much as he did…smirk. And maybe tap his fingers a bit.

"I don't see how we could worsen the situation," he said, dark eyes a bit brighter than normal. His older self turned back to the nearly naked man, stretched out on the table before them, with a series of sensor-patches and tubes wired to his head. Every so often, he'd twitch.

"Spock," the intercom clicked, "Jerk him out, we've got the feed."

"Negative," Spock watched one of Kirk's hand uncurl, fingers dragged along the counter top. But his heart rate beeped steady, "The patient maintains homeostasis."

"Spock," Uhura said again, and Spock had the good sense to know that her tone was not a pleasant one. Indeed, there was a certain vaporizing quality to that final K. Spock entertained the notion of sticking his fingers in his ears and humming. Of course, that would be juvenile and silly.

"Don't do it," older Spock muttered, "It doesn't end well."

The intercom clicked again, "Mizteh Leonard!" Chekov squeaked, "I am not old enuff to be seeing dis!"

"So it's another one of those again, huh?" Leonard rubbed the back of his neck, "Spock, I highly doubt that Jim's perversions will show you anything useful. Let's wake him up."

"I intend to be thorough."

"Dis iz not legal en my country!" Chekov yelled, now a bit panicked. Uhura managed to fit in, "I highly doubt this to be legal anywhere," before the com clicked off.

"Lieutenant," Spock startled, "Are you watching?!"

"Well," she said a bit dryly, "I'm sure we're all watching, sir," there was a pause, "And I would like everyone on deck to know that I have not—ever—done anything with this monkey, no matter what fixation he may hold for my legs. Nor am I as flexible as he seems to think."

There was a shocked silence. The com clicked off delicately, but picked up again almost instantly.

"Miz Uhura," Chekov piped up, "My mother made me promize to marry a woman eef I zaw her naked."

"You may cut the link," Spock said through his teeth. Leonard's eyebrows rose with a grin that bordered upon insubordinate.

"You sure we've given him enough time to get the access code—" Leonard cut himself off, and swallowed nervously, doing his best to avoid eye contact, "Okay, got it."

Spock waited with his arms cross, glaring down at the table while Leonard removed the sensors, fast and delicate. Kirk's eyes fluttered.

"Didja get it?" he asked, speaking as though his lips had swollen to enormous proportions. Spock glanced towards Leonard, slapped Kirk cleanly.

"OW," Kirk lurched upright, snarling, "Hey, you do not have permission to hit the captain."

"I didn't," Spock said, "Perhaps you are still suffering some disorientation from your coma."

"Mirror," Kirk ordered. There was a large red print across his jaw. "Some disorientation."

"It would seem I overlooked something important," Spock said, completely without apology. "I think we'll be able to find your code for you, Captain."

"Good," Kirk swung himself to the floor, rolling his shoulders, "I had to work for that girl's phone number."