Spectacles – by The Problematique

The Captain is wearing spectacles. There is likely a justified reason for him to be wearing them. I do not know that reason, yet I do not feel the desire for said knowledge is powerful enough to distract me from the fact that… the Captain is wearing spectacles. They do not alter his physical appearance… excessively. I have heard that among humans it is considered a sign of intelligence to require spectacles, possibly due to the fact that many centuries ago only intellectuals among their society had the ability to read. They do not make Ji- the Captain appear smarter, because the Captain is already an incredibly brilliant man (the word brilliant, in fact, may be used to describe many of the Captain's mental as well as physical attributes, however that is not relevant) and it would be illogical to think an accessory could change one's mental faculties. His ability to create viable outcomes from almost impossibly staged plans or apparently negative situations notwithstanding.

I cannot help but note that they do provide an added, aesthetic appeal in that they seem to enlarge his irises, obviously due to the convex lens which is, in fact, used in the manufacturing of many microscopes and magnifying apparatus. Yet that is not significant at this time either. What is significant are the Captain's irises. And the fact that they are fixed intently on the report he is reading, whilst the glasses gently, ever so slowly (approximately 0,00013 metres per second, in fact) slide down his nose. I do not understand the fixation my own bodily functions have with this sight, nor do I presume to justify the image which flickered briefly (very briefly, at the most 0,89 seconds) in my mind of the Captain wearing his glasses…

Wearing only his glasses.

"Captain, you are wearing spectacles."

The voice was closer than he'd expected, and the tone… different.

"Leave it to you to point out the obvious, Mr Spock." Jim answered absent-mindedly, or as absent-minded as he could be with his first officer standing next to him.

"You do not usually require glasses to read."

"Nope." It took a little more effort, but Jim still didn't look up from the memo he was examining, instead he pushed said glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger (and if he'd looked up at that moment he might have been stunned breathless to catch the expression in Spock's face). "But I was getting these headaches, and Bones finally prescribed them for me. They're only for the really tiny letters."

"So you are now wearing glasses."

"Uh… yeah."

Jim now stared at his form quizzically, wishing it would somehow magically be substituted by an 'Understanding Spock: A Practical Captain's Guide To Dealing With The Half-Vulcan Hottie Who You've Recently Realised Is… Well… Hot' form.

"Despite the fact that you do not normally wear them." Spock's tone was definitely odd.

Resisting the urge to look up was difficult, but Jim used up every last ounce of his self-restraint to manage it. "Exactly."

"You appear to be wearing them at this instance."

"Indeed." Wow, Spock knew a lot of different ways for repeating the same sentence over and over again.

"I conclude therefore it is of imperious necessity that you wear them?"

"I really wouldn't otherwise, would I?" Jim finally allowed his eyes to feast on his first officer's elegant form, only to catch Spock immediately looking away. That had been a strange conversation, even by Spock-standards. Usually the Vulcan had, well, a point. Other than pointing out that Jim was wearing glasses. Which required pretty basic observation skills, didn't it? Maybe Spock was trying to make small talk? But no, not in the middle of a double shift. So what the hell?

When Spock didn't speak or move or react in any way at all (he just sort of stood there staring into space… literally), Jim tried a joke. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and let his voice drop to a seductive low.

"Unless you think I look sexy in them?"

It was unfortunate, really, that the entire bridge crew chose that moment to become utterly silent. A sort of strangled half-laugh came suspiciously from the controls, but Jim ignored it. Spock didn't seem to have heard him, although he must have because everyone else most certainly had, if Uhura's expression was anything to go by, and she was the furthest from them at this moment having just come inside. Plus there was that Vulcan super-hearing thing. "Kidding, Spock. It was a joke."

Spock nodded, but still didn't look at Jim or walk back to his station.

"I'm sorry." Jim added, trying to catch Spock's eye.

"There is no need to apologise. I understand you were attempting to be 'funny'."

"Yeah, that worked out great." Jim chuckled, deciding to oh-whatever the situation.

The eyebrows went up and finally, finally Spock looked down at him. There was something inherently wrong with Jim's brain and this picture and the dirty idea which connected the two.

"Now I do not understand your meaning. Earlier you seemed to be indicating regret of your words yet now you say-"

"That was irony. Again. I'm sorry, just… just forget it." Jim smiled. "Did you want anything?"

"No, Captain."

"Oh." But then why had he come over? "Really?"

"Yes, Captain."

"You have no reason, no work-related question for coming over and talking to me?" Now why did that fill him with an almost ridiculously stupid amount of glee? Oh yeah, he was totally falling for Spock.

Shit.

"I do not require your advice or wisdom at this time."

Jim couldn't help a grin at this. "My wisdom?"

"Perhaps the wrong choice of words." The corners of Spock's mouth twitched, and he turned and walked away without another word.

Double shit. Jim wanted Spock back.

Heh. He also wanted Spock's back. And to… whoa Kirk, on duty here!

He couldn't help it, it burst from his chest like a desperate thing, which was ridiculous and pathetic, and Spock was only a few feet away and Jim was Captain and he tried to never be unprofessional on the bridge, at least not while he was on duty.

"Wait!"

Spock turned around in one of his quick, agile and smooth gestures. Jim wished he possessed the same feline grace as he stood up rather clumsily, then righted himself and (with a little more effort than usual) donned on his cape of protective over-confidence.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Uh, come back here." Okay, so maybe it wasn't so much a cape as it was a patchwork quilt with quite a few holes in it. "I… need you."

Shit, shit, shit.

"… for a report. I need you to explain something from a report." Jim tried frantically to come up with something that didn't make him sound like the pathetic idiot that he was. Then his eyes landed on his PADD. "This report!" Feeling irrationally triumphant, but latching onto the feeling in order to avoid feeling anything else, Jim thrust it in the air and motioned for Spock to come toward him. Problem was, he didn't wave his hand like any (sane) normal person would have done, instead he curled his fingers in the come-hither gesture and somehow it came out rather more indecent than he'd intended.

Spock stayed still and stiff where he was for a few moments, taking regular, even breaths as though processing his Captain's total insanity was taking him a little longer than expected. Even if his eyes shone with something said Captain couldn't quite place, but knew they screamed of repression, suppression, self-control. Jim found he didn't blame Spock, really. In fact, he was having trouble processing that very own insanity himself.

"Very well." Finally Spock seemed to restart his brain and walked over to where Jim still stood.

The half-Vulcan didn't point out that their computers were pretty efficient at specifying regulations (if that was one thing Jim hated, it was Starfleet's amazing capacity for saying something in a way so convoluted and citing so many other articles, they made Spock-speak sound relatively easy to understand), instead he waited patiently for Jim to explain.

"Right, great. Here." Jim sat back down in his command chair and motioned for Spock to read over his shoulder, momentarily forgetting what it would mean for Spock to actually read over his shoulder.

The warm Vulcan breath, too hot by human standards, felt like steam pouring down Jim's neck and back, and the incredible awareness of Spock standing there overwhelmed Jim's usually unflappable nervous system. He sat, perplexed and wide-eyed at his own disproportionate reactions, waiting for the wave of heat to pass before he did something really stupid.

"Captain? May I inquire as to the nature of your confusion?"

Jim decided to pretend Spock wasn't really there and just dive right in, before the wet sound of Spock swallowing could distract him any further.

"Here, just read it for a sec."

This gave him an excuse to shift away and rest his head against his hand wearily, taking off his glasses while wishing his libido could behave a little less like a love-struck teenager with a crush.

"I see." Spock said at length, giving Jim back his PADD. "I believe the problem you have with this report easy to pinpoint."

"Okay, so. I think that if we go back to the Prime Directive, it's easy to understand Admiral Archer's views make sense, right? Meaning-"

"But I see here that the author of this file has cited article 2.4 of-"

"Yeah, exactly, and that was just an amendment made for exceptional-"

"Yet one might consider the Garan planet an exception since-"

"I know, but the fact remains, Mr Spock, that they encountered the wreckage and used it to further their technological advancement at a rate-"

"-that is far from ideal? Perhaps, however given their estimated learning curve, the arc was not significantly altered in that they already possessed a very strong probability of eventually developing said technologies-"

"No contact means no contact, no premature intervention unless necessary or inevitable. This was neither, I'm surprised you of all people-"

"I am merely attempting to explain the Admiral's reasoning in his decision not to enforce excessive-"

"I know, thanks, but I-"

"That does not mean I agree with his decision. Nor with the rather extraordinary circumstances article 2.4 cites and which do not necessarily apply here, yet I imagine it is 'up to you', so to speak, whether you shall file a formal complaint against the sentence- "

"Yeah. But I guess it is kind of difficult to judge."

"Especially with accuracy, given the circumstances."

"Yeah. Yeah… Thanks, for clearing that up. I think I know what to do."

Close by, Sulu looked at Chekov incredulously and whispered. "Did you understand any of that?"

Chekov shook his head, but then again the Captain and Mr Spock often held long conversations while finishing each other's sentences and knowing what they meant without needing to explain. They were both too smart for their own good, thought the seventeen-year-old prodigy with a knowing sigh. Then he grinned at Sulu and went back to pretending to work while listening to the exchange going on only a few feet away.

"You are welcome, Captain. I am glad to be of use."

And suddenly Spock's breath was blowing against Jim's ear again, and now that their discussion was over it was like a jolt, or like a switch had been flicked open inside of Jim and he was nervous again, and aware of the existence Spock's lips.

It was with some relief, at least, that Jim realised he'd been able to carry on that entire conversation without thinking about Spock standing way too close for comfort. Or not close enough, depending on how one saw things.

Sadly, he was back to being alert now, and he no longer had en excuse to keep Spock around. It had been a stupid idea anyway, he decided firmly, although it had helped clear his indecision about writing back to complain about a verdict from one of Starfleet's top Admirals. A Federation vessel had crashed into a pre-warp planet known as Gara V, effectively jump-starting the civilisation's technological advancement, and the Enterprise was expected to help with their First Contact, which was why Jim was reading this memo in the first place.

"Okay, well, Mr Spock, you may go back to your station."

Jim put his glasses back on, then noted that Spock had waited for this action to be completed before looking away. Huh.

"Are you sure you didn't want anything before?" Jim asked again, just in case.

"Nothing you could provide at the time, Captain."

Okay… what?

"But there was something…?" He persisted. It was useless, Spock had turned away with that humour shining in his eyes but an otherwise blank face (how did he do it?) and Jim was treated to the (admittedly lovely) sight of his retreating back. Again.

He spoke, very softly: "I'd give you anything you wanted." His voice was rough and real, this time, and he let it sound of things he would normally never admit to anyone, but there had been something about Spock's tone before, something different yet familiar, something maybe exciting that had been haunting Jim's dreams for some time now.

Spock spun around, a micro-expression of confused surprise on his face.

Holy crap he'd heard him.

Now what?

Jim pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a reflexive gesture to try and give himself more time to think. This seemed to make Spock tense again, and wipe the small expression from his face until it was just a blank mask, and it looked like Spock just happened to be standing there facing Jim as though waiting for an explanation…

How on earth had he forgotten that Vulcan super-hearing? What if Spock never wanted to work with Jim again? Worse, what if Spock… hated Jim, now?

Jim winked and gave his naughtiest, bad-boy smirk.

As though he'd fully intended Spock to hear what he'd just said.

Well, fantastic.

It was a reflex, honest, it was just a defence mechanism! His body was used to reverting to projecting a cocky attitude he didn't feel (okay, so maybe sometimes he did feel it, often, kind of almost always, but he couldn't help who he was, right? The point was that right now at this very moment, 'cocky' was last on his list of Adjectives I Can Use To Describe How I'm Feeling). Sometimes, his exterior could be misleading, and not just because he was a magnificent example of beautiful, but because he could project emotions he hadn't even meant to. Like now. Totally by mistake and as an unthinking, instinctive… accident.

His brain was providing no help, except, for some really bizarre reason, trying to calculate every other decimal from the number Pi. So he'd fried that to hell, but all his instincts of self-preservation had done was this stupid response which would freak Spock out and probably end up killing him!

Jim was so busy going through his internal crisis he almost missed the way his first officer blushed the most adorable shade of green.

Um…

Say what now?

Was Spock angry? Was he so embarrassed for Jim he was blushing? Was this a good time to attempt to teleport out of somewhere by sheer force of will?

But Spock was still standing there, and Jim was still sitting in his chair and somehow still grinning (and how he managed to maintain that expression without looking like a constipated maniac, given the terror/panic he was feeling, was a mystery even to himself). The whirrs of working machinery, and nervous typing at various stations became so loud Jim couldn't stand it anymore.

He stood up, his eyes locked onto Spock's, ready to apologise and ask Spock to forget it had ever happened.

When, suddenly, Spock shifted. Yes, it was impossible to mistake, even though Spock would say he transferred the majority of his body weight to another foot to maximise his physical comfort and therefore maintain a good posture which would eventually lead to him working more efficiently. And after that very human movement, Spock gave Jim a curt nod and what might pass for…

… was it possible…?

A smile.

An adorable, tiny little smile.

Jim froze, jaw dropping and abandoning all pretence of confidence. Had it really been a smile? Didn't Spock want to strangle/murder/otherwise bodily harm his Captain for his outrageous behaviour? Was he reading Spock's face right?

Jim took another step forward, oblivious to everyone around them, who were mostly staring with expressions ranging from ecstatic delight to unsurprised amusement.

So beautiful, his mind supplied very helpfully (thanks a million, you alleged genius-level piece of crap). But it was true, in the sharp light and framed by the deep, impenetrable blackness of space Spock looked… amazing. Stunning. Quite literally stunning, in fact. His dark, dark eyes shining like that, the corners of his lips upturned into the cutest, tentative display of emotion Jim had ever seen in his life. Spock was drop dead gorgeous, not just incredibly hot (although that too, and very much so). Jim felt paralysed by it, stupefied. Also, unable to speak coherently.

Finally, though, he managed to grin incredulously back, not quite believing this was happening, and exhale a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding for the past five minutes.

What Jim hadn't realised was that Spock's real plan had been to do him in, all along, because what his first officer did next almost killed him where he stood (maybe shaking slightly, but still standing, dammit!).

In his own precise, curt way, Spock winked.

Winked.

It was cute and sexy at the same time, and playful but also kind of daring, and it made Jim's legs turn to mush, much like his brain.

Then Spock turned and decisively went back to work. Jim tried to do the same, except he fell onto his chair with a whoosh and couldn't stop his blinding smile from projecting his giddy happiness like a beacon.

Everyone around him had to look away for a moment before they could exchange companionable glances of triumph.

Because we all know Spock + Glasses = Sexy Win, but come on, KIRK + GLASSES? Awesooooome! ;)

If you review, Spock and Jim will come visit you for Christmas. No, really! I'm totally not making this up! It's true!

TRUE, I TELL YOOOOUUUU!