I'm back! Here's chapter three.

Jim was bored.

He'd been camping out on Bones' couch for the last four days (he'd tried to make him take his only bed, the selfless bastard, but Jim had put his foot down), and between Spock and the good doctor, he couldn't get away with anything.

It wasn't fair that the one time those two agree on something, it was to make Jim miserable.

And bored. Did he mention bored?

But the real stinger was, he felt fine. Better than fine, if only physically. He didn't need to sleep as much (something he was rather perversely grateful for, 'cause, man, the nightmares. Sheesh.)and he wasn't allergic to nuts any more, if Pavel's cookies-from-hell and their distinct non-reaction were any indication. Not that he could even taste the nuts. Seriously, those were awful.

Like, almost worse than Nyota's. Almost.

"Greetings, Captain. Do you recquire sustenance?"

No, Jim didn't squeal and fall off the couch. That was a very, very manly grunt that just happened to be a tad high-pitched. He picked himself up off the floor with as much dignity as possible. "Shit, James Bond! Warn a guy, will ya?"

Spock inclined his head, his non-expression regretful. "I startled you. I apologize. Are you injured?"

Now, this was a problem. Spock had been treating him as though he were made of finely spun glass ever since Jim had kinda-but-not-really died. It was way worse than the usual 'Step aside, puny humans, for I am both logical AND badass' air he carried around with him on dangerous missions. No, this Spock had looked absolutely horrified the first time he had walked in and found Jim to not be lying in bed so as to be tended to and waited upon like a freaking princess. (Admittedly, he had walked in as Jim was trying to see how many cartwheels he could do in succession through the center of McCoy's living room, but damn. He was so bored.)

But, honestly, something was up with Spock. He'd been painfully stiff and careful around Jim, acting as though he didn't quite know what to do with himself. He wouldn't disagree with him on anything unless the topic concerned Jim's well-being. It didn't make sense. Because, even back when they had hated the sight of each other, they had always just...clicked. Now it was tense and awkward and uncomfortable and you bet your ass Jim was going to get to the bottom of this.

Spock stood in the corner of the room after assuring that Jim had not accidentally killed himself in his absence, posture regulation perfect, expression revealing nothing. However, Jim had known Spock for quite a while now, and could tell he was worried, nervous, and a little miserable.

It was kind of pitiful, really.

So Jim took pity on him. He pulled a PADD out from under his pillow and (after making sure it didn't smell funny or anything) said, "Hey, Spock." He waved the PADD at him. "You know how the Kobayashi Maru is completely unfair? Well, I've been tossing a few ideas around as how to change it. Not making it easy to win, or even making it likely. But just...possible, you know? Instead of teaching Command track to accept death," Spock gave a miniscule wince at this, and yeah, he could have worded that better, "you could use it to teach them to think outside the box and use everthing they know in order to win." Jim gave Spock a winning smile. "Would you mind taking a look for me? I mean, it's not even off the drawing board yet, but I think the idea has some potential."

One look at his friend and Jim knew he had him. Spock's greatest weakness and greatest asset had always been his curiosity.

Spock scanned the information in front of him, impressed but no longer very shocked by his Captain's ingenuity. Jim had taken elements from several of their more...unusual missions, the success of which had only been possible due to the cleverness and creativity of the crew, and Jim himself. It was not something that could be programmed into the system in it's current state, of course. Were Spock not so familiar with his Captain's thought proccess, he likely would have found the veritable mishmash of thoughts and plans and ideas before him entirely incomprehensible. But, when deciphered, the result was uniquely exceptional.

A rather apt metaphor for the man himself. Spock glanced over at his Captain, who had now decided to dismantle a communicator to see how it worked, turning the components over in his hands and muttering silently to himself all the while. Jim seemed to sense Spock's eyes on him and rather suddenly snapped his head up to meet Spock's gaze. Jim glanced back down at the gutted communicator in his hands. "Oh, uh...I just thought, it'd be good to know how these things work, you know? So, if we're on an away mission, and lose our communicators, I'd know how to build one, or at least a close approximation, from scratch." He gestured to the PADD in Spock's hands. "What'd you think?"

"The idea is a good one, Captain. I have too recently been...regarding the original design with some distaste. Would you object to any suggestions I may-"

"No! Go ahead, that'd be fantastic. You're a freaking genius."

"...Thank you, Captain. I shall proceed."

So Spock went through the data again, making neat, precise marks, notes, and corrections, adding a suggestion or commendation here and there. It was a most satisfying experience, and the most comfortable he had felt in the same room as Jim since his death.

It was not logical, and it was not the Vulcan way; but the revelation of what Jim Kirk and his companionship had come to mean to him had shaken Spock to his core. After the destruction of Vulcan and the death of his mother, Spock had been...without gravity. Without realizing it, he had grounded himself through the Enterprise's endlessly loyal, tremendously brave, and dangerously clever Captain. However, he had not realized the extent to which he had come to rely on his friend, that his death would rip apart his control so completely. For someone to have that level of control over him, for him to rely so...emotionally on someone this way was a frightening prospect.

As he completed his second analyzation of Jim's project, he noticed his friend had fallen asleep. Spock gave a sigh of relief, moving closer than he was willing to go when Jim was awake. Jim had not been sleeping as much as he needed to, no matter what he said. Spock suspected nightmares that Jim was too prideful to mention. Jim was also distinctly uncomfortable being left alone for too long, though he would never admit it.

Spock seated himself and began to flip idly through the more official files on the PADD, wishing to make sure he would not be viewing anything that would be detrimental to his psychological and emotional recovery. Dr. McCoy had insisted he do so, and though he had raised an eyebrow in the name of privacy at the time, he privately agreed.

He found a list of the names, ranks, and emergency contacts of all seventy-three Enterprise crewmembers who had been lost in the battle against Admiral Marcus and Khan.

Spock inspected further. Each of the names had a corresponding document, which upon further investigation he found to be very personal letters to each of the crewmember's families, detailing not just their demise, but aspects of their lives on the Enterprise. These letters were written by the hand of a friend, not a commanding officer. Spock remembered, when they had first gotten their assignments, Kirk (for he had been Kirk then) had gotten a hold of the roster and gone around to introduce himself and meet every one of the four-hundred-thirty-six crewmembers personally. He knew them all by name, and went out of his way to greet them in the hallways, commend the hardworking, lended a hand anywhere he could be useful, and learn as much about his ship and her people as was possible.

Spock looked at his esteemed Captain, wrapped up in a blanket with his legs hanging off the side of the small couch and his hair mussed, muttering vaguely in his sleep. His eyes softened slightly.

Uniquely exceptional, indeed.

With Spock's point of view, I was trying to capture the incredibly high opinion Jim's crew has of him to compare with the way he views himself in his own PoV. It probably didn't work. Writing Spock is really, really fun though... I appreciate any constructive criticism you wish to offer, as this is my first time writing a fic. Thank you for reading!