James T. Kirk

"Then--do you require assistance?" Spock prodded at the bond as he asked, curious but uncertain about the status of Jim's energy or his willingness to accept.

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Jim looked up and met Spock's gaze. He could feel that poking, and a deep part of him disliked it. He didn't like the idea of him being private, his thoughts and feelings his and an unknown. "Stop that. I'm fine, no better off than you are probably."

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"Apologies." The bond drew back reluctantly, but didn't stop looking, eager for some feedback or sensory information. His gaze shifted to Jim's hands. "I am uncertain about the current state of the affairs requiring my attention, though my yeoman estimates unread messages at six hundred."

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"You know," Jim started, looking down at his own huge list of unread messages as he brought up a hand and bite a fingernail, "it shouldn't be too bad. I started sorting everything first, see what was most important.."

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He watched the small show of teeth and the bite at the nail. The bond prodded forward again, this time with a more nervous energy. "I am familiar with prioritizing strategies for handling bureaucracy." His hand tightened over his wrist behind his back. "Is biting one's nails not a bad habit in human culture?"

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"And I have to learn it," Jim shot right back. He dropped the hand from his mouth with a smirk. "Yea, guess it is. Stop that. If you want to know something, ask."

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"There is nothing that I desire to know." Plain desire, that was all, what most would call natural and inevitable (and undiminished, if not enhanced, by all of his recent activities). "I was merely exploring the extent of our bond."

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There went the comfortable barrier of work. Jim looked at Spock, frowning. "Exploring the extent? What does that even mean?" He mentally poked the bond, not unfriendly or friendly. "It's there. That's it." At least, for now. Jim allowed large steps in building something back between them recently, but... it still had its steps it needed to be taken.

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"It is not that simple." The bond poked back, and then receded. "But you do not enjoy it, so I will cease. Are you certain there is nothing I can assist you with?"

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"I don't think it's simple... but I don't know because you don't tell me." But instead of the anger that had been there in the past, Jim just gave a wry smile. "You like keeping all that stuff to yourself. Part of the mystery of being a Vulcan?"

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"Partly the inability to explain concepts when you possess no reference, and also uncertainty in my own information." Spock shifted his gaze to the window behind Jim. "I cannot tell you what I do not know or trust to know, and you do not appear keen on discussing the remainder."

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Jim leaned back in his seat, feeling it shift to hold his weight. He watched Spock, trying to read his expression. The bond was there, maybe he could have figured out something from it, but part of him as much as being captain could read people. Even Spock, when he put his mind to it.

It was odd hearing an 'I don't know' out of Spock. "Before you say it, I know you're not totally human... but it's a very human thing to say even things we don't know. Theories," he tried instead, thinking it might make more sense, "because a theory can lead to more ideas instead of just letting knowledge go to waste."

As to being keen to discuss it... well, maybe that was true. "Maybe it's just as human to want to keep oneself private, mind and heart."

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"Privacy of the mind is a central tenet of modern Vulcan philosophy, Jim." As if he had forgotten. He would give him privacy, of course, but how was he to know his bondmate if it was maintained at all times? "And there is a difference between theory and conjecture, and the only bridge between the two is experience which I do not possess."

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"Experience comes because you try it. I want to know more, but not at the cost of myself." Jim sighed to himself. He looked up at Spock, those eyes, trying to read what was going on behind them. So, instead, he just gave a little smile. "Bones has to be swimming in all this too."

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It wasn't as if there was any shortage of things for a Yeoman to do on board a flagship like the Enterprise, so Janice hadn't exactly been bored while the captain was away. But when she had been assigned to this ship, it had been the prospect of serving under Captain James T. Kirk that had raised it from pleasing to desperately exciting, and she rather wanted to get down to actually being the Captain's ~~woman~~ personal assistant. Subtly, of course. Helpfully. She knew he wasn't likely to want his personal space, mental as well as physical, invaded. But she would be helpful. She would.

Carefully, she slipped into the office. "Captain?"

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Jim looked up from the console and grinned at the sight of her. Okay, so maybe he hadn't been all that keen on the idea of a yeoman to begin with, but right now she was a sight for sore eyes. "Just the woman I was looking for. I'm drowning and I need your help." He kept it light, teasing. It would just take time to get out from under the mass of paperwork and messages and how the hell did someone even manage to DO that on a ship like this sort of things.

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Rand tried her hardest not to look smug. She thought - or hoped - that she managed to substitute 'eager to help' for 'I knew I would swiftly become INDISPENSIBLE.'

"That's what I'm here for, sir," she volunteered, brightly. "What would you like me to do? I can start anywhere."

She ran a critical eye over the young captain. He looked a little peaky.

"Would you like me to go fetch you a coffee or anything?"

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Jim waved a hand to shake off the idea of coffee. "No, I'm good. Right now..." He thumbed through various folders, then just waved her over. "Started throwing things in folders so at least it wasn't just one huge mess but we could figure out where things go. I'm more than half way through." Requisitions, complaints, assignment changes, urgent news, top secret... the folders went on.

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Janice scrutinized the folders. He'd established a discernible system; she could certainly attend to this.

"Okay," she said, picking up the 'Requisitions' folder and peering at it. "I can finish this up for you, if you need to get onto something more important? I have no doubt - " she reached out, slipping something into the folder where it belonged " - that the Captain of a flagship shouldn't have to do his own filing." She shook her head.

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Jim let her use the console across from his so she could access everything. "I'm just working my way through everything," complete with a shrug, "a captain shouldn't be too good for anything, even this. I'm already going through the most important stuff."

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She eyed him uncertainly. "Well," she conceded, "if you're sure. I suppose it'll get done faster that way, anyway."

Janice was fast at this kind of stuff, fast and accurate. She had no doubt that the captain was probably faster - everybody knew he was some kind of genius - but that just made it worse, didn't it, that he'd be wasting his time doing this? Except. What he'd said, a captain shouldn't be too good for anything. The part of her that was given to hero-worship swelled a little bit at that, even while she plotted how to blitz through this organization job with enough speed and skill that he'd be amazed. (Amazed.)

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Jim pulled up a complaint and frowned at it, closing his eyes as he picked the man in his mind. "Richardson..." Science, shorter man with a goatee. Something about... wait, this should have gone to Spock anyway. Jim sent it quickly in Spock's direction in amusement. "I'm not worried about speed, other than making sure it gets done reasonably. Just want it done right the first time."

It was one of the little ways he hoped to make his crew happier. If things were given, shifted, moved, whatever was needed within reason then it would make five years of being together on this ship easier.

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Janice nodded, her eyes wide, signalling her enthusiastic agreement. Captain Kirk was so wise about this stuff, which wasn't fair, given how young ~~and hot~~ he still was. But then, that was why he was a Captain, and Janice wasn't.

"Absolutely," she said. "There's nothing worse than realizing you've done a whole load of things wrong, months after the fact. I'm all for accuracy." She nodded her head, as if to underline her point.

She dashed off a brief response to a pretty straightforward query about beds, forwarding it on to Maintenance. The captain was wearing an expression of quiet concentration. It was kind of compelling. She forced herself to look away from it, and went on with her work with aggressive focus for ten minutes or so.

"How are you feeling, anyway?" she asked, when she couldn't stand it any longer.

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She certainly was perky, which made him laugh inside as he worked to hide the smile. "If you mean my excursion into the vast wasteland of 2010, I'm fine. It was amazing, but I'm glad I live today instead of then. I think the strangest thing of all was the complete lack of any aliens. No Vulcans, no Andorians, no... anything. Just humans of every kind."

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