#cg bones

Starfleet requires that all aspiring members, human or not, take a classification test before their admittance to the school. Officially, this does not affect your possibility of admission, and is only used to appropriately accommodate every cadet upon being admitted. Unofficially, statistics show that Starfleet admits far more neutrals and caregivers than littles, despite having a nearly equal number of applications from each classification.

Officially, the classification test was designed to be applicable to all alien species applying, despite differences in culture, psychology, and physiology. Unofficially, almost every non-human applicant is classified as neutral due to the test failing to grasp these differences, and being unable to neatly classify them as a little or caregiver, defaulting to the basic option. It is not that other species are unable to fit these traits, simply that they are expressed differently, and the test lacks the capabilities to pick up on these differences. 

James T. Kirk understands this as a true fact, because his first officer is definitely a little, despite all official paperwork claiming otherwise. If there was one alien species capable of tricking the test, it would be Vulcans- although Spock would argue that Vulcans are both incapable of trickery and lying, because such things are illogical. They were 2 years into the five year mission, and though they weren’t exactly friends, Spock and him had become something of friendly coworkers. And as a friendly coworker, and little, Jim had noticed certain… traits in Spock that gave him reason to believe that, had the classification test been calibrated for his Vulcan-ness, would have led to his first officer being classified as little, and not neutral.

He had been trying to convince Bones of Spock’s little-ness but to no avail, at least not when he’s big. Bones, despite what his general demeanor would suggest, was wrapped around Jim’s finger, and especially when Jim was regressed. He was a great caregiver, and Jim wouldn’t replace him for the world, but there was only so much pretend play a caregiver can tolerate, and Jim needed more littles to play with! He’s almost certain that with a bit of gentle caretaking from Bones, and maybe some encouragement from his captain, Spock would regress easily enough, and then he and Jim could become better friends, and playmates.

This leads him to now, showing Bones his very nice marker drawings of the steps of his plan in order to convince him to play along. As Jim sets down the last page, he takes a deep breath, and looks up at Bones with the saddest puppy eyes he can manage, stalling the no that was about to fall from his caregivers lips. Bones sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“Listen, kiddo.” The doctor began, and Jim did not like the tone of his voice, so he turned up the pout a few degrees. “I don’t think Commander Spock wants us interfering in his personal business, ‘specially not me. I know you get a little bored around here sometimes, but there’s other littles aboard the ship- classified littles. You can play with them.” And then Jim is being ushered into pajamas and into bed, but he can hardly sleep when he’s trying to improve his plan. If he can’t get Bones, who is the best caregiver ever, to help him make Spock regress, he’ll have to rely on another method…

An opportunity arose a few days later when they docked at a starbase for some well deserved shore leave. Jim came up with a flawless plan to get Spock feeling little, and then he’ll be able to prove to Bones that Spock regresses, and be able to play with him. 

“Spock! Just the Vulcan I wanted to see.” Jim chirped as he walked into Lab 2, where there were a great deal of vials set out in rows, and filled with some sort of viscous, yellow fluid. 

“Captain,” Spock replied, turning around to face Jim. He looked as he usually did, but Jim was hopeful to change that by the end of the next few hours. The captain walked a little further into the lab, leaning against the bench where the vials sat- though careful not to bump them at all.

“I noticed you didn’t sign up for shore leave, Commander Spock.” Jim intonated casually, letting his gaze drift around the room while Spock processed. He was armed with some statistics about Spock’s productivity if he needed it, as the first officer had once tricked him in a similar manner. 

“No, Captain.” Spock confirmed, before returning to filling the test tubes. 

“I want you to go on shore leave, Spock.” Spock turned to face him again, and Jim has grown good enough at reading Spock’s very minute body language to tell that he is annoyed.

“I am occupied in the lab, Captain, and afterwards I will be writing reports. I do not plan to go for shore leave.” 

“It’s an order. You’ll be in the same group as me.” 

Spock did not sigh, but Jim delighted in the fact that it was a near thing. Step one of the plan was complete. Step two involved dragging Spock out for some shopping, because buying things for little him always got Jim feeling little, and he couldn’t see why Spock wouldn’t feel the same way. If Bones also happened to be there to maybe do some child rearing… well it certainly couldn’t hurt.

–

Spock did not understand why the captain had suddenly developed a desire for his company, but he did not ask. Dr. McCoy stood next to him while Jim piled item upon item into the basket that Spock had been relegated to holding. Spock found it illogical to be on Starbase-19B shopping when he could be working, but he would not disobey orders from his captain. Fortunately his lab experiment was not time sensitive, and he would be capable of returning to it when the captain tired of his excursion. McCoy appeared to share Spock’s level of enthusiasm, and Spock found himself with a new appreciation for the man's ability to keep the captain in check.  

Spock was aware that the captain was classified as a little, but this was his first time actively observing that particular trait. Spock did not dislike regressed individuals, but human children and Vulcans, by his study, appeared to have fundamental ideological differences that made their interactions displeasing on both sides, so he did not actively seek out situations where those interactions became probable. This situation with the captain was not providing evidence to dissuade him for his provision. 

“Spock, you should get something!” Jim, who had rushed over to Spock’s side to loudly proclaim this, tugged on the sleeve of his uniform. Spock looked over to McCoy, who held out one hand, and upon Spock’s confused hesitance, snatched the nearly overflowing basket from Spock’s hand. He then used his other hand to push Spock forward, which the captain evidently took as Spock agreeing to his request, as he proceeded to briskly walk Spock through most of the store. He occasionally stopped to point out objects he believed Spock would enjoy, however they hardly lingered for long enough for Spock to investigate the items himself. It admittedly surprised him when Jim shifted from holding his sleeve to his hand, and he nearly pulled away due to the intimacy of it, but he did not want to upset the captain as he was.  

As the day progressed with Jim continuing to grab at his hands to pull him towards something, Spock found himself desiring a break to meditate. Jim’s emotions were very strong, and he did not have any form of shielding to prevent Spock from taking the full force of his powerful emotions. He did not desire to tell Jim of this, as he calculated a high probability of the captain experiencing guilt, which was not his intention, and would likely create tension between Spock and Dr. McCoy. He resolved himself to finish the day as it was, and he could meditate for an increased length that evening. 

However, Spock did not anticipate Jim becoming upset regardless, and while clinging tightly to Spock’s hand. Dr. McCoy had suggested they beam back up to the Enterprise briefly for some rest, which Spock was not opposed to, but the captain very much was. Spock attempted to detangle their hands as Jim’s emotions grew stronger- frustration, betrayal, sadness, despair- but Jim clung tighter to him as he argued with the doctor. Spock found himself getting overwhelmed as the two argued, the weight of having another person's full emotions battering against his shields for hours finally hitting him. Jim stomped a foot on the ground in anger, and Spock found himself- to his utter horrification and mortification- crying. 

He finally managed to detach his hand from Jim’s, and quickly turned away from him and McCoy both as he wiped his face. This was an unacceptable failure of control on his part- his shields should be more than strong enough to handle such prolonged contact, and he certainly should not have reacted so… emotionally, to their failure. His shame only continued as he found himself unable to stop crying, the tears continuing to fall and he found himself becoming short of breath. McCoy and Jim continued arguing behind him until a pathetic hiccup squeaked its way out of Spock’s throat, and then they went silent. Spock wiped his eyes again, and tried to compose himself as he turned back around. 

Their expressions were surprisingly similar- though Spock struggled to decipher their meaning. 

“I apologize,” Spock spoke as evenly as he could, but it was difficult when his emotions were running wild. “I must return to the Enterprise to meditate. I cannot- cannot stop.” Jim and McCoy began shouting at him but Spock could not make sense of their overlapping voices. They were loud and it was painful to his ears and head- his senses felt oversensitive, and Spock was crying harder than before. He does not know at what point McCoy calls up to the Enterprise to beam them up, but he is in the transporter room, vision blurred, and then a hand on his back, leading him forward and away.

Spock can hardly process external stimuli, as he attempts to regain control over his mental faculties, but there is a background sense of relief when he finds himself in his quarters. Gentle hands maneuver him until he is sitting on his bed, and then someone- McCoy- is talking in a low, soothing tone. The words are vague reassurances, but Spock finds them to be a lifeline, and slowly he is able to cease the crying and hyperventilation that had plagued him. He feels very unpleasant, with his face wet and sticky, and the knowledge that he has acted in a most unsuitable manner. He looks at Dr. McCoy, who is staring back at him with an expression that Spock does not recognize nor understand. 

“Thank you, doctor.” Spock says after a long moment of eye contact, “I… appreciate your assistance, though I would ask you not to divulge today's events to any other crewmembers.” 

“So that’s it? Have a breakdown at the space mall and then it’s back to an emotionless zombie?” The doctor huffed, and Spock twisted his hands in his bed sheets, rubbing the fabric in an attempt to keep himself grounded. It was imperative he meditate as soon as possible.

“It is a starbase, not a ‘space mall’. My actions today were regrettable. I do not intend to repeat the instance.” Spock replied stiffly. “I must meditate.” He added, though he did not yet stand up as doing so would put him face to face with the doctor.

“Are you a little?” 

What.

“As you are well aware doctor, my classification is that of neutral.” Spock retorted, raising an eyebrow. McCoy gave a very long sigh and rubbed his hands over his face.

“Let me try this again.” McCoy murmured to himself under his breath. “Do you share any traits with the little classification? Have you ever regressed?”

Spock hesitated. He did not desire to lie to the doctor point blank, but this situation was moving into territory that was unfamiliar. Meditation was essential, but he could not meditate until Dr. McCoy left, and he would most certainly not do that until satisfied.

“There are traits that I share with the classification. I believe today, when the captain was holding my hand, I experienced regression, through his emotions.” Spock finally answered after several seconds, finding his response to be a fair compromise. McCoy sighed again.

“Jim thinks you’re a little, and he’s slowly been convincing me of the same thing. After today… Why don’t we say this? I’ll leave so that you can meditate, and the next time Jim regresses, you can come visit for a bit.” Spock agreed quickly with a nod of his head, the sooner he could meditate the better.

… And it would not be a problem to spend a short amount of time with the regressed captain. Though today’s excursion ended undesirably, Jim was far from the most intolerable little Spock has been around. 

True to his word, the next time Jim regressed- which was 7.752 days following shore leave, McCoy commed Spock, and Spock made his way to the main playroom aboard the Enterprise. The room was empty apart from the captain and doctor, which was not surprising considering the hour. It was the time during which most of the off duty crew took their meal. The doctor noticed him first, and Spock greeted him with a nod of acknowledgement. Jim noticed McCoy’s distraction and followed his gaze, leading him to Spock. 

“Spock!” Jim jumped up and ran towards him, reaching for his hands, presumably to take Spock back to where he had been playing with the doctor. 

“Captain.” Spock greeted, smoothly moving his arms so that the captain grabbed onto his sleeves instead. His previous assumption was proven correct when he was led to where McCoy still sat on the ground, the captain dragging Spock down to the floor as well. He began explaining, at a rapid pace, the pretend game he had been playing with the doctor. Spock was assigned a role, which he attempted to perform to the best of his ability, though the captain kept changing the rules and telling him to ‘play’ in a different manner. 

Though illogical, and mildly annoying, Spock found himself truly enjoying his time with the captain. Jim was as passionate as he ever was, and as always, it was inspiring to see.

“No, Spock, like this-” Jim stated for the 72nd time since they had begun the game, Spock frowned slightly, he had truly thought he was improving. He found it difficult to follow the jumps Jim made, though McCoy showed no such difficulties, and in fact, had been relegated to being a voiceless character as Jim had focussed all his attention on Spock. Spock did not feel jealous, but it was a close thing.

“Apologies, Jim.” Spock replied, and they resumed the game, with Spock attempting to correct his actions. It appeared he had finally gotten it right, as Jim did not correct him for a further five, then ten, then twenty minutes. To his surprise, Spock found himself getting invested in the story Jim had weaved, and as the game slowly developed, Spock’s character too was pushed out of the spotlight, until it was just Jim, telling the story as he played himself. 

At one point, the game required Spock to be on his stomach, and he had remained there as Jim had not asked him to move otherwise. He had the toy Jim had given him to use- a green stuffed cat, which had made McCoy laugh, though the reasoning he did not explain- tucked under his chin as he listened to Jim tell the story. He was comfortable, albeit slightly cold, and found himself involuntarily falling asleep. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, but he did not want to sit up and risk interrupting the captain. Spock startled when the doctor suddenly spoke up.

“Okay Jimbo, I think Spock is ready for bed. Why don’t we clean up the toys, hmm?” Spock sat up, intending to protest against the doctors words- he wanted to hear how Jim manages to defeat the bully aliens and rescue his pet cat!- but a jaw cracking yawn erased any counter evidence he could have provided. 

Indeed, it appeared the captain had been planning to protest as well, but Spock’s yawn prevented him from doing so. “Can we keep playing tomorrow?” The captain asked, giving Spock a look he could not decipher. Jim had begun putting away the many toys surrounding them- truly, Spock had not noticed the number of characters involved in the story- as the doctor considered his answer.

“If you, and Spock, want to keep playing tomorrow, I have no objections.” McCoy replied, and Jim turned to Spock, and abruptly, his face changed. Spock felt his heart stutter as the captain’s eyes widened and brightened, his lip coming out in a pout, and tears started to pool in the corners of his eyes.  

“Spock?” Jim asked in a wobbly voice, and who was Spock to refuse him?

“Of course, if that is what you wish, captain. Though, I am working the alpha shift tomorrow. I will be available following its conclusion.”  Spock replied, his voice taking on a soothing tone that he could hardly recognize. In an instant, Jim’s pout and tears receded, replaced by a bright grin that had a similar effect on Spock's heart.

“Thanks Spock!” Jim said cheerfully, before taking the plush cat that still remained in Spock’s arms and putting it away. Spock blinked, he had not realized he had continued holding onto it, though now he keenly felt the loss of it. To his surprise, he felt somewhat distressed over the loss, which was a fact to be meditated on. How fascinating, that the proximity to the captain in his current state appeared to have an effect on Spock’s own emotions. Two occurrences was not enough to form a conclusion however, so further experimentation would be necessary.

Spock stood, though his mind was now far too busy to sleep. “Goodnight, Jim. Goodnight, Doctor.” He managed, standing still just long enough to hear their replies, before turning and heading to his quarters.

His meditation was not productive, he could not logically identify the reasoning behind his distress nor how to overcome it. He compartmentalized the rest of what had occurred that day, and did his best to bury the feelings that had come up when with Jim and the doctor. 

Sleep did not come easy. Spock tried many methods to aid in his drifting off, but found success in none. He grabbed one of his pillows, squeezing it out of frustration- a display he would never usually permit- and found himself unusually relieved. He squeezed it again, against his chest, and found that he appreciated the pressure. Spock kept a tight grip on it, and found that sleep finally came, and quickly.

–

Alpha shift went well, Spock spent his first half of the shift on the bridge, with the captain. Spock was initially tense, though he relaxed when nothing about the previous night was mentioned. He spent the second half of his shift in the labs, running an experiment on some minerals they had found on one of their more recent planet excursions. It had some particularly fascinating properties that Spock, along with the geologists, were investigating. 

When his shift had concluded, Spock took an early dinner in his quarters, and did some administrative work on his PADD, until he was once again called by McCoy, though this time to the captain's quarters. Spock set down his PADD and left his quarters, chiming the door to the captains, and entering upon McCoy calling for him to “Just come in!”

“Hello-” Spock’s greeting was cut off by the captain, who had grabbed Spock’s sleeve and immediately began pulling him towards the bed. The captain’s bed currently had many stuffed toys, among other ones, and he cleared a space for Spock to sit. Spock took his intended position, next to the doctor, as Jim began explaining the new game they were playing. Spock privately mourned the fact that he would likely never discover the ending to the previous night's story.

“You have to stay awake this time, okay?” Jim told him firmly, and Spock gave a slight nod, straightening his posture slightly. McCoy snorted a laugh that he attempted to disguise as a cough. “Good! Okay, I’ll start…”

Despite his best efforts, Spock found himself back in the cycle of disappointing Jim and overall not being very good at the games, though he tried very hard to do what Jim asked of him. To his credit, the captain was exceedingly patient and never grew irritated with Spock, though Spock was annoyed with himself. As the game went on, Spock found himself relaxing back into the sea of stuffed animals, slowly participating less, though his lack of presence appeared to improve the game somewhat. Spock squeezed the plush he had been given- a pale yellow canine that Jim had solemnly informed him was named Goldie- against his chest, as he had done his pillow, and found it had the same sedative effect.

He blinked slowly, watching as Jim jumped off the bed in search of… something, Spock had admittedly lost the plot of this game. The doctor leaned towards him, giving Spock an odd look. 

“He’s a handful, isn’t he?” Spock nodded slowly, finding himself not wanting to exert the energy to speak. “Tired, commander?” McCoy teased, and Spock knew he was supposed to protest, invite McCoy into one of their arguments, but he was so tired…

“Mmm,” Spock hummed in reply instead, which made the doctor give him another one of those odd looks. Spock squeezed the plush a little tighter, though mindful not to cause any damage to it. Jim jumped back onto the bed holding a small toy ship, and the game between him and McCoy started anew. Spock was, to his relief, entirely forgotten.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew that his behaviour was unusual. He was not acting like himself at all, nor truly feeling as he usually did. However, presently, Spock was not concerned with the thoughts in the back of his mind, and was only thinking about being able to sleep. 

He closed his eyes, bringing Goldie up to his chin so he could feel her soft fur against his face, and between one moment and the next, fell asleep. 

“Spock!” He jerked awake, blinking rapidly to clear his vision as he searched for the source of the sound. The captain was giving him a very disappointed look, and the doctor was giggling. “You said you wouldn’t fall asleep.” 

“Apologies, captain.” Spock mumbled, straightening from where he’d curled up. He could feel his face warm in embarrassment as Jim shook his head and sighed. 

“It’s okay Spock… I guess I wasn’t including you very much. I’m sorry, too.” Jim mumbled, earning a ruffle of his hair from the doctor. Spock nodded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and giving a small yawn. 

“Thank you, Jim. I shall endeavor to participate more, as well.” 

Spock still made many mistakes as they played, but Jim corrected them with his near endless patience. Spock found himself once again invested in the story, eagerly playing along. He made less mistakes as time went on, as well, much to both Jim’s and his own relief. Indeed, Spock found himself able to follow the logic of the story quite well, and even added aspects to it of his own- with Jim’s approval, of course. 

The doctor played along as well, though Spock often felt McCoy’s eyes drifting to him. He did not understand why. 

Eventually, the game concluded, with a happy ending for almost all the characters involved, Goldie included. 

“Okay, time to tidy up and then it’s time for bed.” The doctor ordered, and though Jim complained slightly at the volume of cleanup he had to do, he obeyed quickly enough. Spock helped where he could, though he assumed he was more a nuisance than anything, considering he had no idea where Jim kept any of his toys. 

Still, the captain thanked him for his help, and it made Spock feel quite warm inside. He shifted slightly from foot to foot, but before he could say more, the doctor was ushering Jim to the bathroom, and Spock took that as his cue to leave. He said his goodnights, and returned to his own quarters.

The doctor watched him as he left, and Spock could not hope to predict what he was thinking. 

(It was, Spock would later find out, something along the lines of; “Damn it all, Jim was right.”) 

 Soft Spot P2

True to his word, the next time Jim regressed- which was 7.752 days following shore leave, McCoy commed Spock, and Spock made his way to the main playroom aboard the Enterprise. The room was empty apart from the captain and doctor, which was not surprising considering the hour. It was the time during which most of the off duty crew took their meal. The doctor noticed him first, and Spock greeted him with a nod of acknowledgement. Jim noticed McCoy’s distraction and followed his gaze, leading him to Spock. 

“Spock!” Jim jumped up and ran towards him, reaching for his hands, presumably to take Spock back to where he had been playing with the doctor. 

“Captain.” Spock greeted, smoothly moving his arms so that the captain grabbed onto his sleeves instead. His previous assumption was proven correct when he was led to where McCoy still sat on the ground, the captain dragging Spock down to the floor as well. He began explaining, at a rapid pace, the pretend game he had been playing with the doctor. Spock was assigned a role, which he attempted to perform to the best of his ability, though the captain kept changing the rules and telling him to ‘play’ in a different manner. 

Though illogical, and mildly annoying, Spock found himself truly enjoying his time with the captain. Jim was as passionate as he ever was, and as always, it was inspiring to see.

“No, Spock, like this-” Jim stated for the 72nd time since they had begun the game, Spock frowned slightly, he had truly thought he was improving. He found it difficult to follow the jumps Jim made, though McCoy showed no such difficulties, and in fact, had been relegated to being a voiceless character as Jim had focussed all his attention on Spock. Spock did not feel jealous, but it was a close thing.

“Apologies, Jim.” Spock replied, and they resumed the game, with Spock attempting to correct his actions. It appeared he had finally gotten it right, as Jim did not correct him for a further five, then ten, then twenty minutes. To his surprise, Spock found himself getting invested in the story Jim had weaved, and as the game slowly developed, Spock’s character too was pushed out of the spotlight, until it was just Jim, telling the story as he played himself. 

At one point, the game required Spock to be on his stomach, and he had remained there as Jim had not asked him to move otherwise. He had the toy Jim had given him to use- a green stuffed cat, which had made McCoy laugh, though the reasoning he did not explain- tucked under his chin as he listened to Jim tell the story. He was comfortable, albeit slightly cold, and found himself involuntarily falling asleep. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, but he did not want to sit up and risk interrupting the captain. Spock startled when the doctor suddenly spoke up.

“Okay Jimbo, I think Spock is ready for bed. Why don’t we clean up the toys, hmm?” Spock sat up, intending to protest against the doctors words- he wanted to hear how Jim manages to defeat the bully aliens and rescue his pet cat!- but a jaw cracking yawn erased any counter evidence he could have provided. 

Indeed, it appeared the captain had been planning to protest as well, but Spock’s yawn prevented him from doing so. “Can we keep playing tomorrow?” The captain asked, giving Spock a look he could not decipher. Jim had begun putting away the many toys surrounding them- truly, Spock had not noticed the number of characters involved in the story- as the doctor considered his answer.

“If you, and Spock, want to keep playing tomorrow, I have no objections.” McCoy replied, and Jim turned to Spock, and abruptly, his face changed. Spock felt his heart stutter as the captain’s eyes widened and brightened, his lip coming out in a pout, and tears started to pool in the corners of his eyes.  

“Spock?” Jim asked in a wobbly voice, and who was Spock to refuse him?

“Of course, if that is what you wish, captain. Though, I am working the alpha shift tomorrow. I will be available following its conclusion.”  Spock replied, his voice taking on a soothing tone that he could hardly recognize. In an instant, Jim’s pout and tears receded, replaced by a bright grin that had a similar effect on Spock's heart.

“Thanks Spock!” Jim said cheerfully, before taking the plush cat that still remained in Spock’s arms and putting it away. Spock blinked, he had not realized he had continued holding onto it, though now he keenly felt the loss of it. To his surprise, he felt somewhat distressed over the loss, which was a fact to be meditated on. How fascinating, that the proximity to the captain in his current state appeared to have an effect on Spock’s own emotions. Two occurrences was not enough to form a conclusion however, so further experimentation would be necessary.

Spock stood, though his mind was now far too busy to sleep. “Goodnight, Jim. Goodnight, Doctor.” He managed, standing still just long enough to hear their replies, before turning and heading to his quarters.

His meditation was not productive, he could not logically identify the reasoning behind his distress nor how to overcome it. He compartmentalized the rest of what had occurred that day, and did his best to bury the feelings that had come up when with Jim and the doctor. 

Sleep did not come easy. Spock tried many methods to aid in his drifting off, but found success in none. He grabbed one of his pillows, squeezing it out of frustration- a display he would never usually permit- and found himself unusually relieved. He squeezed it again, against his chest, and found that he appreciated the pressure. Spock kept a tight grip on it, and found that sleep finally came, and quickly.

–

Alpha shift went well, Spock spent his first half of the shift on the bridge, with the captain. Spock was initially tense, though he relaxed when nothing about the previous night was mentioned. He spent the second half of his shift in the labs, running an experiment on some minerals they had found on one of their more recent planet excursions. It had some particularly fascinating properties that Spock, along with the geologists, were investigating. 

When his shift had concluded, Spock took an early dinner in his quarters, and did some administrative work on his PADD, until he was once again called by McCoy, though this time to the captain's quarters. Spock set down his PADD and left his quarters, chiming the door to the captains, and entering upon McCoy calling for him to “Just come in!”

“Hello-” Spock’s greeting was cut off by the captain, who had grabbed Spock’s sleeve and immediately began pulling him towards the bed. The captain’s bed currently had many stuffed toys, among other ones, and he cleared a space for Spock to sit. Spock took his intended position, next to the doctor, as Jim began explaining the new game they were playing. Spock privately mourned the fact that he would likely never discover the ending to the previous night's story.

“You have to stay awake this time, okay?” Jim told him firmly, and Spock gave a slight nod, straightening his posture slightly. McCoy snorted a laugh that he attempted to disguise as a cough. “Good! Okay, I’ll start…”

Despite his best efforts, Spock found himself back in the cycle of disappointing Jim and overall not being very good at the games, though he tried very hard to do what Jim asked of him. To his credit, the captain was exceedingly patient and never grew irritated with Spock, though Spock was annoyed with himself. As the game went on, Spock found himself relaxing back into the sea of stuffed animals, slowly participating less, though his lack of presence appeared to improve the game somewhat. Spock squeezed the plush he had been given- a pale yellow canine that Jim had solemnly informed him was named Goldie- against his chest, as he had done his pillow, and found it had the same sedative effect.

He blinked slowly, watching as Jim jumped off the bed in search of… something, Spock had admittedly lost the plot of this game. The doctor leaned towards him, giving Spock an odd look. 

“He’s a handful, isn’t he?” Spock nodded slowly, finding himself not wanting to exert the energy to speak. “Tired, commander?” McCoy teased, and Spock knew he was supposed to protest, invite McCoy into one of their arguments, but he was so tired…

“Mmm,” Spock hummed in reply instead, which made the doctor give him another one of those odd looks. Spock squeezed the plush a little tighter, though mindful not to cause any damage to it. Jim jumped back onto the bed holding a small toy ship, and the game between him and McCoy started anew. Spock was, to his relief, entirely forgotten.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew that his behaviour was unusual. He was not acting like himself at all, nor truly feeling as he usually did. However, presently, Spock was not concerned with the thoughts in the back of his mind, and was only thinking about being able to sleep. 

He closed his eyes, bringing Goldie up to his chin so he could feel her soft fur against his face, and between one moment and the next, fell asleep. 

“Spock!” He jerked awake, blinking rapidly to clear his vision as he searched for the source of the sound. The captain was giving him a very disappointed look, and the doctor was giggling. “You said you wouldn’t fall asleep.” 

“Apologies, captain.” Spock mumbled, straightening from where he’d curled up. He could feel his face warm in embarrassment as Jim shook his head and sighed. 

“It’s okay Spock… I guess I wasn’t including you very much. I’m sorry, too.” Jim mumbled, earning a ruffle of his hair from the doctor. Spock nodded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and giving a small yawn. 

“Thank you, Jim. I shall endeavor to participate more, as well.” 

Spock still made many mistakes as they played, but Jim corrected them with his near endless patience. Spock found himself once again invested in the story, eagerly playing along. He made less mistakes as time went on, as well, much to both Jim’s and his own relief. Indeed, Spock found himself able to follow the logic of the story quite well, and even added aspects to it of his own- with Jim’s approval, of course. 

The doctor played along as well, though Spock often felt McCoy’s eyes drifting to him. He did not understand why. 

Eventually, the game concluded, with a happy ending for almost all the characters involved, Goldie included. 

“Okay, time to tidy up and then it’s time for bed.” The doctor ordered, and though Jim complained slightly at the volume of cleanup he had to do, he obeyed quickly enough. Spock helped where he could, though he assumed he was more a nuisance than anything, considering he had no idea where Jim kept any of his toys. 

Still, the captain thanked him for his help, and it made Spock feel quite warm inside. He shifted slightly from foot to foot, but before he could say more, the doctor was ushering Jim to the bathroom, and Spock took that as his cue to leave. He said his goodnights, and returned to his own quarters.

The doctor watched him as he left, and Spock could not hope to predict what he was thinking. 

(It was, Spock would later find out, something along the lines of; “Damn it all, Jim was right.”) 

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