100 More One Shots ✔️

Discretion and Prudence >> Spock X Reader

"Spock, what are you –," you push a hand through your hair, "Just go back to bed. I can't sleep."

He nods. "I have been restless since my REM cycle began, as have you," He gestures to you, and adds, sliding his hand in yours, fingers interlocking, "I deduced that eventually you would go for a walk."

You shrug. "I was hoping that I could grab cocoa."

Spock kisses your cheek softly, "That sounds pleasant."

Not a quarter of an hour later, you're sitting in a quiet lounge, where somewhere nearby is playing a loop of the daily news from the solar system you're in, and from Earth. But you're not focusing on the affairs of the Talaxian peoples, you're listening to what Spock has to say about what happened earlier in the day when the away otherwise disastrous mission happened.

"I cannot see any place to put blame for the incident except for myself," he stares into his cocoa, allowing the steam to dissipate slowly, to make the drink grow cold. You do the opposite. Yours is cradled close to your chest, half drained as you listen. "Our Captain is a headstrong man, at the best of times, but where he has curiosity, I have restraint. I should have exercised this ability of mine to prevent what happened to occur."

You hum. "But Spock, you aren't Captain Kirk, you're not his conscious...you're you. This isn't the first time he's gotten himself into a tight spot, huh, I remember the time we all apprehended a radical Romulan. When we caught the genetically altered criminal and saved Earth." You laugh to yourself, "He's a rascal, yes, but we get through in the end. You're by his side, you're the leash on him, but in no way, should you feel responsible if the leash snaps." You're trembling slightly when those words come out, "He's a grown man. This is on him."

Spock nods, taking a sip of his drink. "I believe you are right on this one, _________."

"I'm right on all of them!" you chuckle. He raises a brow, cup lowered. It's then you see a thin moustache of foam above his lip, and your chuckle turns to a laugh. "Here, let me get that for you..." you move across the sofa, placing a kiss upon his lips, and then your sleeve upon his upper lip.

He smiles.

You're by the replicator in the communal eating area when you see your Captain newly released from the Medbay. He looks better than what the reports say he appeared to be days ago, and while his ear is being torn up by a very tempestuous Doctor McCoy, you see your boyfriend approaching as well. Those three together were like a holy trinity, in which the universe stopped to stare at, allowed change to happen through, and then laughed at the destiny of. Shaking your head, you made an extra cup of coffee, and made way to join them.

"I don't take sorry for an answer anymore," McCoy snapped, fist balled on the table he sat at, glare hot upon Captain Kirk. "Sorry doesn't save your sorry ass when medical science can't save you."

You sit at the table, sliding the second cup of coffee to Spock. "Doctor McCoy, please, allow me." You smile to the medical professional, and while you are good friends, he seems to forget that fact often when in heated debates, and huffing, leaves to return to the Medbay. But that happens to everyone, not just you, and you don't take it heavily. "Jim. Tell me what happened."

His eyes widen. "Oh no, not you too."

Spock raises a brow. "Oh yes, this is us as well." He hums, and taking a sip of his coffee, adds, "We're not angry, Captain – think of it as us trying to work out what was going through your head."

Jim blinks. "You're not my parents," he scoffs, staring at his clasped hands. A beat passes between the three of you, silence; you pick at the quick beside your fingernail, Spock clicks his tongue softly. Then, "I wasn't thinking! I just – it's an adventure, Spock, it's the great unknown and we're exploring it all!" He bursts, "I've been feeling..."

"Uneasy, right?" you suggest the word. Jim nods. "I get it, I do...you were born for all of this, and it's great, we're here in space, when two hundred years ago it was just a dream!" you tell him, pushing your coffee cup closer toward you, and glancing to Spock, you add, "We're just your teammates, Jim, we don't want to see you dead." You pause. "Again."

Spock nods, placing a hand upon his friend's wrist caringly. "My partner's argument is also my own, Captain. Though not your strongest suit, it is logical to act with discretion and prudence."

He considers it. "Well, I'll go freshen up for the day, find out what those words mean, and see you both later, on shift."

You glance to Spock, "That went well." you smile, hands tight around your coffee.

He agrees. "Surprisingly."

You're focusing on the current task at hand, when you hear a disgruntled grumble from the Captain's chair, where none other than the celebrated Captain Kirk sits. You don't look up from your post, continuing your navigation with Lieutenant Sulu at the pilot desk. But when you feel a burning gaze, and from the corner of your eye, see Ensign Chekov's face pale in worry, you glance.

His fists are balled, eyes narrowed. Jaw clenched. In short: something has riled the Captain.

"Lieutenant _________, if you may join me," he gestures to the side of the Captain's chair where Commander Spock does not stand, and excusing yourself, you follow the order given. But before you reach the chair, he begins to speak, "Discretion, and prudence?"

You're silent for a moment. Those are the words that Spock had chosen to say last time you saw Jim, describing what qualities were advisory to be held in someone of his rank. You go to speak, but find that no words are appropriate from your mouth to fix this situation. Obviously, the Captain doesn't like to be told to be cautious and judicious.

"Sir, speaking as commanding First Officer, I spoke those words from understanding of the Star Fleet regulations which say of qualities required for all Captains and all high-ranking personnel." Spock delivers his rebuttal with poise and levelheadedness, as always, and arms held behind his back, he adds, "and speaking as other than a colleague, those words came from concern for wellbeing of a long-held friend."

"Sir, we did not mean to tell you what, and who you were supposed to be," you add to your boyfriend's statement, quickly, making sure your voice is low enough to not be overheard by those who had no business to hear it. "We merely care for you."

He takes time to consider what has been said, and slowly, releases the tension in his jaw, in his hands. "Thank you, Spock, _________," he nods. "You are dismissed."

You share a smile with your partner, and returning to your post, hush Hikaru's questions about what just happened.

On the end of shift, you meet Spock in the Turbolift, and let out a breath that was, unbeknownst to the pair of you, held in for way too long. It's a short ride from the Bridge to where you're both going to let off the stress of the day with the sonic shower in your quarters, and some of your shared favourite music. But now, you're standing there, exhausted from dodging a meteor shower, rescuing a marooned Star Fleet officer from a non-Federation planet, and that turmoil that had racked up in the Captain's chair earlier.

"What a day," you sigh, running a hand over your head, "I'm so tired."

Spock nods, his hand seeking yours to hold, fingers soft upon yours, "I feel the same. Though the day was a challenge, it is most often the things that challenge us, are the things that save us."

You grin, "How is it you find the right words to say, when to say them?" You reach up, placing a kiss to his cheek. "I love you, Spock."

The doors to the Turbolift open, and walking with you, he says, "And I you."