Officially, tomorrow would be Jim's first day aboard the Enterprise. The morning would start with his promotion from Commander to Captain down at Headquarters, then he would be beamed up to the Enterprise where he would be greeted by Captain Pike. Pike would formally introduce Jim to all his heads of departments, most of whom Jim had already known previously or had met in the past couple of days. After that, Jim would relieve Pike, who would return to Headquarters to receive his own promotion, and then Jim would, finally, be given a tour of his new ship by the Chief Science Officer and the new First Officer of the Enterprise, Lieutenant Commander Spock – whom Jim hadn't actually met yet, as the other man had been on a temporary assignment while the Enterprise was being prepared for her five-year mission, and had only arrived back to Earth earlier that day. Jim just supposed he was lucky that the majority of the crew wasn't due to show up until the day before the shakedown cruise in half a week's time, or else Jim might have been expected to give a formal address as the new Captain right away, delaying his tour of the Enterprise even further. Officially.

Unofficially, Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott, Scotty, was an old friend of Jim's, and was completely sympathetic to Jim's apprehension about his first introduction to the Enterprise being a guided tour. Not that Jim lacked faith in Spock's abilities, to the contrary Jim was quite excited to meet the other man, given his stellar record and the glowing recommendation that Pike had made. It was just that there was nothing so good for getting to know a place like a little free range exploring. So when Scotty had gone up to the Enterprise that day to continue his last check of everything to make sure they were ready to take off next Tuesday, he had stolen off to the transporter room for a few minutes, that had turned into a half an hour of Scotty talking Jim's ear off, to beam Jim up to see his new lady ("our lady, and don't you be forgetting that once you become Captain, Jim").

The sneaking around was proving well worth it, even if Jim did feel vaguely guilty over the whole thing. The Enterprise was by far the best ship Jim had ever been on, and while he would admit to some bias, Jim thought it was entirely possible that she was the best ship in the whole fleet. And wandering all these empty halls had only gotten Jim even more excited to see the place once it was teeming with life. Though, the emptiness was working in his favor at the moment, keeping him from having to duck into broom closets every five minutes to avoid being caught out.

No sooner had Jim had that thought, than he heard voices coming had down the corridor and he had to do just that. He was lucky enough, at least, that the nearest doorway lead to a rec room rather than an actual broom closet: more space that way. As the voices drew closer, Jim began to be able to distinguish them from each other. There were two people, the first of whom Jim recognized as Ensign Johnson, an excitable new officer that had tracked Jim down two days ago to tell him how thrilled he was to be serving under 'the great James T. Kirk,' and to recite the laundry list of Jim's awards and accomplishments back at him. It had been an amusing interlude, to say the least.

But the second voice… Jim was certain he had never met the owner of that voice. He would have remembered the deep even tones, and the way they sent a thrill down his spine. In fact, as the voice got louder and more distinct, Jim felt an overwhelming urge to get a look at the person that the voice belonged to. Look, but don't touch because as (soon-to-be) captain, he wasn't allowed to touch anymore. Technically, Starfleet regulations allowed for sexual and/or romantic relationships between officers as long as all involved parties were within two ranks of each other, and there was reasonable proof that there had been no coercion on the part of the higher ranking officer(s), but Jim's own personal moral code limited him to his Chief Medical Officer, Piper, who Jim wasn't remotely interested in, and his First Officer, Spock, who was a Vulcan and therefore not remotely interested in Jim. So no more touching for Jim, but looking was harmless.

Jim started to maneuver himself, trying to figure out the best position to be able to see out the open doorway, without being too terribly obvious to the people walking past. As he was doing that, the sole of his boot caught on the floor, emitting a high-pitched squeak.

"Did you hear that, Commander?" Johnson asked, as Jim started looking for a place to hide.

"It was likely nothing, Mister Johnson. However, to be on the safe side, I will investigate. You may go ahead to the lab and I will join you shortly."

"But sir!"

"I am quite capable of taking care of myself. I will rejoin you within ten minutes; if I have not, then you may feel free to call in Starfleet security." Johnson must have still been waffling somewhat, because after a pause the voice followed his comment with a sharp "Dismissed, Ensign." This was followed by the sound of footsteps continuing down the hallway, which told Jim he was out of time.

Jim spared a last quick look around the room, but there were no other exits and, having already discarded under the table as both undignified and unlikely to be effective, no place to hide. Might as well face the music head on then.

His eyes met those of his pursuer, and Jim found himself thinking, quite sarcastically, 'of course this is how we meet each other for the first time.'

Spock, because the owner of the mysterious voice was none other than Jim's First Officer, raised one eyebrow. "Commander Kirk."

"Lieutenant Commander Spock," Jim returned.

"You are aware that you are not supposed to be aboard the Enterprise right now, correct?" Spock said.

"I'm aware. I just wanted a chance to look around the place before our official tour tomorrow," Jim said as charmingly as he could manage.

"Yes, Mister Scott said as much when I questioned his prolonged absence from engineering earlier." God damn it, Scotty. He was a good man, and ninety-nine percent of the time – one hundred if it had to do with engineering or not technically breaking the laws of physics – he excelled under pressure, but that other one percent… "He was quite insistent that this trip was necessary for you, emotionally," Spock continued.

"In that case, I'll try not to come down on him too hard for folding on me like a wet blanket," Jim joked.

"A wet blanket?" Spock asked.

"Just an expression," Jim said, waving the matter off.

Spock nodded, though Jim suspected it was more out of an acknowledgement of Jim's explanation than because he actually thought what Jim said made sense. In a fairness, Jim had never known wet blankets to be especially foldable. "If I may make a suggestion, sir?" Spock said.

"Of course. Mister Spock. That's what you're here for, after all."

"The next time you are struck with the urge to go somewhere you aren't supposed to be, you might want to try being a little quieter," Sock noted dryly.

Jim found himself biting back a laugh. No one had told him that Spock was funny. That wasn't going to make the next few weeks – Jim hoped to God it wouldn't take any longer than that – any easier. But then, Jim had already completely rejected any real chance of it being easy. "I'll take it under advisement," Jim responded wryly, unable to hold back the grin.

"Then, if you'll excuse me Commander, I need to get back to Ensign Johnson. I suspect that he is not going to wait the full minutes I suggested before calling security."

"You're probably right," Jim agreed. "Dismissed, Mister Spock."

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgment. "I look forward to making your acquaintance tomorrow, Commander Kirk."

This time Jim really let out a chuckle. "You too." Spock turned and walked away, and Jim, his hand unconsciously reaching up to press against his side, watched him go.

Well, damn.

Perhaps not surprisingly, later that evening Jim found himself reflecting back on his parents. Everyone who knew the both of them always commented on how much Jim took after his father, and Jim had to admit, they weren't completely wrong. Physically, the resemblance was astounding; Jim had even had a few girlfriends flip through photo albums only to mistake old pictures of his dad as being of Jim himself. They both had followed the same career trajectory from Starfleet Academy to eventually becoming a starship captain, though Jim couldn't see himself retiring young the way his father had, or at all really: he loved the stars too much. Even Jim's mother had been known to make comments about it, in particular Jim remembered an occasion right after she had heard Gary Mitchell's favorite teasing insult at the time, that Jim was a stack of books with legs, when Winona had let out a merry laugh and said 'like father, like son.' But if anyone were to ever ask Jim about it, he would say that he was just like his mother.

Long before the two of them met, Winona Davis had heard of George Kirk. The young man had been very popular among the ladies at Starfleet Academy back in those days because he was, quote, incredibly handsome, smart as hell, and completely unattainable – George had decided to swear off dating until after he graduated, to better focus on his studies. At the time, Winona's balance of work and play had tilted decidedly more toward the play side – so perhaps she and Jim weren't completely alike – and upon hearing the rumors, she had immediately dismissed George as likely being very dull.

That had all changed one day when Winona was in the library studying for a test she had the following day. She had heard a laugh, the kind of ringing clear laugh that made you want to befriend the person laughing it, had looked up to see George Kirk walking in with some of his friends and grinning, and that had been it for Ms. Winona Davis. Love at first sight. And she had known it was love for a fact, because at that same moment the spot on her arm that would one day be her soulmark had blazed with a pain like getting stabbed with a thousand tattoo needles – "Not that I would know what that feels like," Winona told her young sons, "because I've certainly never gotten a tattoo" – and quite suddenly it went from being nothing more than a vague line to reading in a clear if untidy scrawl 'George Kirk.'

When she saw that, Winona had stood up and marched straight… back home to put on a jacket to cover up her soulmark. "The nice thing about San Francisco," Winona always interjected at this point in the story, "is that you can wear long sleeves all year long, and no one looks at you funny." Once she was certain that no one could see the writing across her upper arm, Winona had gone back to the library, and then marched straight up to George to introduce herself.

It had taken four months of friendship before Winona finally felt comfortable asking him out, and after that another two months to convince him that he was actually completely capable of dating and doing well in his classes at the same time. Finally, on the one month anniversary of their first date, Winona had, for the first time in public since that day in the library, worn a sleeveless top, to show George what she had known all along. She had immediate cause to regret her insistence that they meet at the restaurant that night rather than having George pick her up like he usually did because, nerves or no, it was a bit embarrassing to have her date stand up and strip his shirt off right in the middle of the dining area so he could show her the spot on the back of his shoulder where her name had been coming in clearer every day.

"I thought I was being romantic," George had grumbled, and Winona had tapped him on the cheek.

"It was very charming, dear."

"But I don't get it," Sam had protested. "Would it have just been easier on you mom if you had showed him your soulmark right away?"

George had laughed. "When have you ever known your mother to do things the easy way?"

"The hard way builds character," Winona had retorted. "I did it that way, Sam, because otherwise I wouldn't have ever been sure who your father was interested in, me or his soul mate."

Sam had scowled, and Jim, ever the loyal younger brother at that age, had scowled too. Really, his mother hadn't been making any sense; she was his dad's soul mate, so if George was interested in one, he was interested in the other. Still, the comment had stayed in the back of Jim's mind, taken out on occasion to be reexamined, resonating with him more and more each time he did.

Jim lifted his arm so he could look at his left side in the mirror. He frowned half in consternation and half in wonder as his fingers traced the flowing Vulcan script that had appeared with a pain like getting stabbed with a thousand tattoo needles – not that Jim would know what that feels like, because Jim had certainly never gotten a tattoo, especially not that one time he and Gary had been tremendously drunk on Wrigley's Pleasure Planet – when Jim had met Spock's eyes earlier that day and fallen head over heels in love.

Sometimes Jim really wished he wasn't quite so much his mother's son.