AN: This is a clear deviation from my just, finished angstfest. I don't even know, people. It just started practically writing itself. Let me know what you think. Feedback feeds my soul. =)

EDIT 6/25/2013: Now beta'd by notboldly. . New chapters soonish.

Jim could say, with absolute certainty, that his troubles started when the Vulcan moved in next door. Before Spock, and his stupid bowl-cut, Emily Jenkins resided at 216 Grace Lane. Emily was a frisky red-head who liked to palm Jim through his jeans at every pep rally. It did wonders for Jim's reputation, which he absolutely needed. Fifteen year-old, genius-level Jim Kirk had not been fitting in with the students at Riverside Prep before Emily took an interest in him. Sure, she wasn't an extraordinary conversationalist; in fact, she spent more time gabbing about the latest fashion trends and that stupid actor who looked like a foot (in Jim's humble opinion) but she seemed to like Jim. Emily's presence in his life had opened doors that had remained closed since jumping two grades in an already advanced and accelerated academic program. Jim didn't have many fans among his peer set, and Emily had been his constant companion and frotting buddy for seven months until her mom accepted a promotion that required a move to London.

And then Spock was there and Jim's social standing took a rapid nose-dive.

Instead of receiving manual stimulation during school sponsored events, Jim was back to dodging seniors who thought it hilarious to shove him into lockers. He skipped social events like they were the plague in order to avoid the obligatory mocking and bruising that inevitably followed when he attended. So, four months into Spock's tenure as Jim's neighbor, Jim was relegated back to solitary lab geek and bookworm. And it thoroughly pissed him off.

What really irritated Jim, though, what was the worst fucking thing about the entire situation besides their mothers' sudden and undying friendship that threw them together far too often for comforts' sake was Spock's utter disdain for Jim. Okay, it wasn't disdain because the fucker was an emotionless bastard. It was more of a disregard. Outside of the demands of basic courtesy and general good manners, Spock refused to speak to Jim, at all. They shared six out of seven classes during the day, had the same lunch period, lab times, and spent the same amount of time hunched over computers in the library, only to walk home together with a mandatory fifty paces between them. All that and forced dinners and outings instigated by their parents, who had unfortunately bonded over their mutual status as widows, and Spock never said a word to Jim.

He'd think the boy was a mute if not for the fact that he'd heard the asshole speak to his mother and that he obnoxiously answered 98% of all questions asked during their shared classes. And really, what the fuck was a Vulcan doing attending a Terran Preparatory school in the first place? Surely Mr. 'I-know-every-fucking-thing-ever' should be in college somewhere or stuck in a pod at the oh-so prestigious Vulcan Science Academy. It was all very suspicious. Jim was beginning to think the kid was deficient in some way. Must have a screw loose or something to have to sit with all the intellectually inferior earth kids.

The fact that Spock was instantly popular was just the icing on the shit cake that was Jim's life. Everyone clambered to be at his side, inviting him to all the cool parties and giving him a seat at the best fucking table in the cafeteria. Jim was fairly sure he was going to lose his teeth at an early age from grinding them every time someone drooled over Spock or sighed over how fucking 'dreamy' he was.

So, with all that being the status quo of Jim's life, how could it possibly get any worse? Oh, so fucking easy.

Jim stared at his mother in silent horror. She did not just say what he thought she just said because, no. Sure, she spent a hell of a lot of time at the shipyards or on the Starbase doing emergency engineering shit, but still, she could not be so unaware of the way things were between him and Spock. That level of obliviousness would be a sign of illness, some catastrophic damage that would end Jim's world as he knew it, and even if it was shitty, it was preferable to whatever the hell this fuckery was.

"Are you out of your mind? He hates me!"

Winona scoffed at Jim's words. She. Fucking. Scoffed.

"Don't be ridiculous, Jim. Spock doesn't hate you."

"He hasn't said a single word to me in four months that wasn't hello, goodbye, or that stupid phrase he uses about living forever."

"Don't mock the Vulcan culture, Jim. You're being inappropriate. And Spock's just shy."

Jim could only gape in open-mouthed astonishment. Really, was his mother so fucking blind?

"Stop being so dramatic. I don't have the time to do it and Amanda said that Spock had already completed the course and would be able to help you out. I thought you'd be happy. You've been bugging me about this for almost six months."

"You! I've been bugging you, not Spock. Jesus!"

"Watch your tone, young man. I can't believe you're being so ungrateful. Anyway, it's already been decided, you'll meet Spock after school tomorrow to start your lessons."

Winona grabbed an apple from the glass bowl on the counter and took a crunchy bite before sweeping from the room with a pointed look at Jim. For his part, Jim just dropped his head to the countertop with a thud and groaned aloud at the continuing unjustness of his life.

~`.`~`.`~

If Jim thought this new arrangement would change anything about their dynamic he was sorely mistaken. If anything, Spock seemed even more stiff and closed-off during class. Jim hadn't thought that was even possible. Jim watched Spock throughout the day, looking for some sign that the Vulcan was even aware of what was going down after school. There was no noticeable sign other than Spock avoiding Jim's gaze with even more skill than usual.

So, by time Jim left the library, seeing that Spock had left sometime earlier while Jim had been absorbed in his Statistics homework, he fully expected to exit the school doors to find an empty parking lot. But no, he wasn't that lucky. Spock sat in the driver's seat, reading from his padd. Well, shit.

For a moment, Jim thought about just walking home. Neither of them wanted to do this, that was painfully obvious. Only the fact that he'd catch hell from his mom if he ditched Spock made him stalk towards the car. At his approach, Spock looked up then stowed his padd away and unlocked the passenger door. Jim tossed his bag into the back and slumped down into the seat before closing the door with more force than necessary.

"Please fasten your safety harness."

Jim huffed an irritated sigh before clicking the belt into place across his torso.

"This is a standard, Terran aircar. It operates on a dual, dilithium and hydrogen-"

"We can skip the basics, Spock. I know what a fucking car is."

"It is essential to understand all pertinent information when undertaking the task of acquiring a new skill."

"My uncle owns a repair shop. I've been working on aircars, flitters and haulers since I was eleven. I just need to know how to not crash and die in a ball of flame. Think you can manage to teach me how not to do that?"

"Very well."

Then Spock launched into a detailed explanation of the function of every button, dial and switch within the car and the process of starting and shutting down the car. Two hours later, he dropped Jim off at his house without ever letting Jim sit in the driver's seat. Jim was sure he'd cracked a tooth at some point during the lecture. He slammed into the house to find his mom giggling on the couch with Amanda. Great, his mom's one, rare afternoon off and he couldn't even bitch about the fruitless lesson properly.

"Hey, babe. How'd the lesson go?"

"Oh, it was fabulous. Spock is very thorough." His sarcasm must have bled through because he could see his mom preparing to put him in his place but Amanda got to him first.

"You have to be patient with Spock, Jim. He values knowledge and doesn't undertake a task with anything less than absolute diligence. It can be frustrating, believe me, I know, but it's his way. He will, eventually, let you actually drive the car." The twinkle Jim saw in Amanda's eyes let him know that she understood perfectly well how the lesson had progressed.

"If you say so. I'll just have to take your word for it. At this point, however, I'm beginning to think I'll never get my license."

"Have faith, Jim. Spock will see this through and you'll have your freedom before you know it." Jim didn't know if she was referring to attaining his license or not being forced to spend time with her son. He decided not to ask.

~`.`~`.`~

It was a full week before Spock relinquished the driver's seat. Jim sat behind the wheel and gripped it with eager anticipation. It was possible that the grin on his face was borderline maniacal, judging by the expression on Spock's face that just barely allowed a hint of trepidation to show. What the hell did he expect after a week of lecturing on everything from the type of glass used in the car and how it was produced to the fire retardation level of the carpeting and fabric? Jim reached forward to start the car but was halted by a hand on his wrist.

It was warm, really fucking warm, even through the layers of his flannel and jacket. Spock pulled back immediately, looking sick from the contact, a slight green hue to his face.

"It is imperative that you adjust the controls and safety options to meet your body standards. We discussed this on Wednesday."

"Right. Sorry. Forgot." Jim mumbled before doing as Spock suggested, taking more time than necessary to make it look as thorough as possible. He finished his tasks then shot a questioning look at Spock who nodded at him to proceed.

It was going really well. Jim circled the school several times, parked, parallel parked, reversed and completed a figure eight just for the hell of it. By the time he relinquished the seat back to Spock he felt confident in his ground skills. He was a bit more worried about the aerial lessons, though. They coasted to a smooth stop in front of Jim's house and Jim paused with his hand on the door before closing it against the February chill and turning to face a surprised Spock.

"Look, I just want to say thank you. I know you didn't have a say in any of this and you could have just jerked me around or whatever. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, thanks for taking the time to do it right. Yeah. That's all." Jim quickly hopped out and jogged up to his door before Spock could respond.

~`.`~`.`~

Jim approached the car to find Spock in the passenger seat. They were supposed to start aerial training and Jim was expecting long hours of lectures. Confused, Jim slid into the car, clicked his belt in place and waited for Spock to explain what the hell was going on.

"I require a specific book."

Oh. Jim understood. He'd been here before.

"Sure, just tell me what you need and I'll get it for you. I mean, I really appreciate all you've done so, yeah, no problem."

At Spock's raised brow, Jim rushed to clarify.

"No. I'm serious. I get it. I owe you one. More than one, probably. You've put a lot of effort into teaching me and spending time with me has got to be causing you to catch flak from your friends. So, sure, I'll get you your book. No problem. Like I said, I really appreciate you doing this for me."

Jim got the impression that Spock was grinding his teeth, which yeah, awesome role reversal, but what the hell? When Spock spoke again, he was terse and refused to look at Jim.

"After adjusting the vehicle to your personal settings, proceed to the northern exit and turn left onto Cranberry Avenue."

Jim did this in silence and drove down the street until he was directed to take a left onto the interstate. He merged into traffic and coasted along at a reasonable rate of speed. It was relaxing, cruising along with people rushing home to their families, or off to work, maybe running errands. It made him feel like he belonged to the world at large, instead of just the confining crush of academia and teenage angst. They drove in silence for nearly twenty minutes before they took an exit and parked outside a strip mall that housed a very large wholesale bookstore.

Spock climbed out of the vehicle without a word and Jim scrambled to follow, jerking back into his seat when he forgot to remove his seat belt. Face flushed with embarrassment, Jim jogged up to Spock, who held the door for him. They stepped into artificial warmth, and Jim stared in awe at the sheer amount of paper-bound books surrounding him.

"How did I not know this place existed?"

"Its construction was completed 8.24 months ago, it is relatively new and functions primarily as a warehouse. It is not unreasonable that its presence was unknown to you prior to this day."

"But...books!"

"You have an interest in paper-bound novels and texts?"

"Yes, I most certainly do have an interest. This is the best day ever! Go find your book, I'm gonna scope the joint out." And with that warning, Jim dashed off to search as many shelves as possible.

Jim lost himself in the glory of paper and ink. By the time Spock tracked him down, two hours had passed and Jim had a stack of books piled on the floor next to where he sat, with an encyclopedia of space flight open across his lap. Jim noticed Spock eyeing the books he'd selected and bristled at the surprise he saw on Spock's face. Jim snapped the tome shut and replaced it on the shelf before gathering his collection into his arms and grabbing Spock's' book to add to his pile.

"I like to read, okay? And, like I said, I've been working since I was eleven and haven't had a chance to spend any of my money on anything of value."

"I was merely intrigued by the diversity of the themes you selected. Vonnegut, Hawking, and Frost, that is quite an eclectic palate."

"I'm an eclectic guy."

"Indeed." With that wry response, Spock reached over and snatched his book from Jim as they approached the check-out counter.

"What are you doing? Hand that over so I can pay."

Spock merely placed the book behind his back and stood to the side while Jim's books were scanned.

"It was not my intention that you purchase the book as a means of recompense. I had this trip scheduled and it was logical to include highway travel into your lessons."

Jim leaned back on his elbows and studied Spock while turning his words over in his head for any sign that the Vulcan was lying. Finding none, Jim darted forward and stretched an arm around Spock to reclaim the book and handed it to the clerk before Spock could react. Smirking with victory, Jim swiped his credit chip and grabbed his bags.

"Here, you can carry a bag, they're fucking heavy."

"That was not necessary. I will reimburse you for the expenditure."

"You will do no such thing. It's my thank you, Spock. In polite society, one is often appreciative of receiving a gift and reciprocates such gratitude verbally."

"Which you have done numerous times, therefore, procuring a gift for me is illogical."

"No, that's totally not the same thing. I bought that book of my own free will, whereas you were coerced into helping me. So say 'thank you, Jim' and shut up about it."

They climbed into the car and Jim quickly adjusted the environmental settings to heat up the frigid interior. The temperature had dropped while they were shopping and snow coated the ground and fell in a flurry from the sky. They drove in silence until Jim left the interstate behind and they were once again traveling the familiar roads of home.

"I was not coerced."

"Hmm?" Jim was white knuckling the steering wheel while trying to act perfectly at ease. This was his first time driving both; on main streets and during slick conditions. The view out the windshield looked like the holos he'd seen of a ship going into warp, flakes streaming through the night toward them in white streaks. He flinched whenever a particularly large flake appeared to aim for his cornea, and every time he felt the tires slip his heart jumped into his throat and he felt like he was going to piss himself.

"I was not coerced into providing your lessons. I volunteered."

The car jerked to the right as they crossed a particularly slick intersection and not at all because Spock just shocked the hell out of him.

Jim chanced a look over at Spock to find him staring out the window, avoiding Jim's gaze.

"But, why? You don't even like me." Spock straightened in his seat and turned to look out the windshield, still avoiding Jim, but in a less obvious manner.

"That is not strictly true. The word 'like' denotes a preference, which Vulcans do not have. I neither like nor dislike you."

"Oh. Okay." Jim steered the car into Spock's driveway, then parked in the garage once Spock had activated the door sensor. Jim leaned into the back and dug through the bags until he found Spock's book. He noticed the title for the first time as he offered it to Spock. In surprise, he jerked it back just as Spock reached for it. "Holy shit! You're not serious."

"It is an educational text that was recommended to me by a trusted source."

"Seriously?"

"Vulcans are always serious."

"The Human Condition: A Comprehensive Guide to Living Among and Interacting with the Human Race. Are you fucking kidding me?"

"As I previously stated, the book is an educational tool-"

"No. Spock, just...No. Okay? You don't need this. You're half-human."

"I am aware of that fact. I do not see what that has to do with-"

"You're half-human and you think you need to study humans? What's going on Spock?"

"There is nothing going on. Please hand me my book." Spock reached forward expectantly but Jim just leaned his hip against the car and began flipping through the pages.

"Humans express joy through the baring of teeth in a manner that may appear aggressive, but is merely a physical representation of their emotional state known as a smile. Jesus, are you fucking serious?"

"I do not understand your persistence in repeating a question that has already been answered. Also, your use of language is deplorable."

"I'm sorry, Spock, but I'm going to repeat myself one more time. Are you fucking serious with this?"

Spock heaved in a deep breath and huffed it out violently before shutting the car door and stalking away from Jim.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you." With that, Spock entered the house, slamming the door behind him. Jim collected the books and shut the garage door as he left.

He entered a dark house to find a scrawled note informing him that his mom had been called up to the Starbase and would be gone for a few days. There was stew in the fridge and he filled a bowl and clambered up the steps to his room. He settled at his desk with his food, and Spock's book. He read through it and found it absolutely ridiculous.

'Humans require verbal acknowledgment of their achievements to maintain a healthy emotional balance. Whether the achievement is worthy of verbal praise or insignificant in nature, be prepared to comment upon it.
Examples:
1. That painting is quite realistic, you are adequately skilled.
2. I believe your hair is now shorter than it was before. It is different and can be considered aesthetically pleasing.
*3. Your new (any material item can be used in this example, while procuring an item through commerce is not an achievement, it is considered so by Humans) is noticeable and of acceptable quality. Perhaps you could relate the details of where you acquired said item so that I may acquire one myself.

*Implying that you covet a Humans' possession causes great joy. Do not be alarmed by the sudden baring of teeth. See: Smile.

Jim flipped to the cover to find out who had this crap. 'T'Pannock'. Oh, well, of course. Jim snorted at the idea of Spock learning how to be human from a book written by another Vulcan. That thought quickly erased Jim's' humor and he turned to look out his window to the house next door. The light was on in Spock's room and Jim could see a shadow through the sheers, crossing the room before settling down into immobility. Jim wondered what Spock was doing.

Jim tore his eyes away and focused a frown at the tripe in front of him. Was Spock really trying to be more human, or just trying to understand those around him? His mom was human though, so he should already know how to deal with humans. Jim tried to push the thoughts away and focus on his Sociology thesis but the question plagued him through the night.

~`.`~`.`~

Jim held the book to his chest under his jacket to keep it dry as he ran through the rain to the car. He slid into the passenger seat and pushed back the soaked cotton top of his hoodie.

"Jesus! Yesterday snow, today rain, can't it just be summer already?" Jim looked over at Spock's lack of response and blinked at the obvious tension radiating from the Vulcan. "Spock?"

"I do not appreciate being mocked for my genuine interest in acquiring the knowledge necessary to adequately integrate myself into Human society."

Jim blinked some more, this time in confusion, before speaking quietly.

"You've integrated yourself perfectly. I don't understand. You have a ton of friends and are invited to all the parties and social events. What more do you need to learn?"

"I-" Spock's hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his veins stood out in bright-green relief against pale, pale skin. "I do not have friends. It is not a Vulcan concept. Furthermore, I find that I am constantly misunderstanding those who choose to interact with me. I do not understand and that is unacceptable."

Jim heard the quiver in Spock's voice and realized that he had really fucked things up.

"Okay. Give me an example of something you didn't understand."

Spock glanced over at Jim, as if judging whether he was about to be mocked again. He must have decided Jim was being serious because he released his death grip on the wheel and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Today, Megan Foster related a personal event that occurred the prior evening, which did not have any relevance to the previous discussion in any way. She emphatically stated that 'Bobby Jay was in for it because he blew up her phone and now she was over her limit because he could not take a hint and she was about to suffer a social death due to his impertinence'."

A grin spread across Jim's face and he had to wave away Spock's scowl when he caught sight of it.

"No. No. I'm not mocking. I totally got this. One, Megan Foster is hot! Um, I mean she is physically attractive. Head cheerleader and limber. God, you should see her do a mid-air split. It's a holy experience. Okay, never mind that. Two, most adolescent girls talk about things that don't relate to anything that's actually being said. Don't ask me why, it's a mystery. Three, she's angry because Bobby Jay's been persistent in pursuing her attention which she does not appreciate. Last night, he must have texted her enough that she exceeded her monthly allotted limit and won't be able to receive or send messages until March. And four, that last part was totally not a direct quote 'cause Megan may be gorgeous but she is not linguistically proficient, by any means."

"That…Thank you. I believe I understand."

"And that last part?"

"I am uncomfortable repeating that particular comment."

"Ha! Megan's got a filthier mouth than I do. She's fucking awesome." Jim shifted in his seat to face Spock and leaned comfortably against the door. "So, what else has had you confused?"

They spent the next 97 minutes discussing the mangled conversational skills of their classmates while Jim acted as a teen-to-Vulcan translator for the most obscure phrases. The windows were fogged over and the rain long gone by the time they left the lot and headed toward Grace Lane. It wasn't until Jim was drifting off to sleep that he realized he still had Spock's book and that they hadn't actually gotten around to the driving lesson.

~`.`~`.`~

Jim ran from the library and skidded to a halt in front of his locker. He was already running late for his lesson with Spock and he'd forgotten that stupid book in his locker. He didn't really want to give it to Spock, he'd paid for it after all, so ethically speaking it wasn't theft if he kept it. But he also didn't want Spock wasting his own money buying another copy, and Jim knew that the stubborn ass would do just that.

Jim was bent over, trying to push the thick book into his already crammed bag when a hand splayed across his back and shoved him forward. His head connected with the sharp corner of the metal frame and he saw stars for a moment before his vision cleared.

"You should be more careful spazz. Some fucking genius." Jeff Hensel smirked over his shoulder in obvious appreciation of what he must have thought was a clever insult before turning down the corridor leading to the gymnasium.

Jim pressed a shaky hand to his forehead and it came away red. Just fucking wonderful. Jim stood unsteadily and grabbed a tissue from the box he kept in his locker due to his allergies, thought about it, then grabbed a couple more before slamming the locker closed and sprinting as best he could to the exit on the other side of the building.

He stumbled over his shoelace and caught his bag on the doorway as he pushed through the heavy double-doors. The bag tipped forward heavily, the flap still attached to the door frame causing the contents of his bag to spill across the landing and down the steps before he could right himself. The momentum of the bag swinging off his shoulder mid-stumble felled Jim and he landed painfully on his knees, the frigid cement helping to numb the worst of the pain. Fuck! Well, he was already down here, Jim leaned forward and had begun refilling his bag when a shadow fell over him. Automatically tensing at the expectation of another attack, Jim looked up to find Spock staring down at him, pencils and note cards filling his hands.

"You are injured."

"It's nothing." Jim reached for the crap Spock was holding and shoved it into his bag and made to stand. A warm hand grasped his elbow and helped him to his feet.

"You are bleeding profusely."

"Head wound." Jim pressed the wad of bloody tissues back to his forehead and winced at the thought of all the germs he'd picked up when he tried to brace himself during his fall, planting his only available wound care flat on the well-traveled ground.

"That is unsanitary."

"Yeah, well, it's the best I've got at the moment."

Jim flinched when Spock pulled his hand away from his forehead and removed the dirty tissues, replacing them with his own scarf. He ignored Jim's protests and replaced Jim's hand against his bleeding head and pressed firmly.

"Come." Spock guided Jim down the steps and to the car with one hand against Jim's lower back, the other remaining atop Jim's', pressing against the wound.

Jim relaxed against the headrest once he was settled in the car, his stomach lurching for a moment when Spock maneuvered out of the lot.

"What happened?"

"Fucking Jeff Hensel," Jim spat the name. "Thought he'd be funny, and pushed me into my locker. He really needs to learn a new trick. And how lame is it that he's only ever brave enough to do it when no one else is around? Fucking loser."

"This has happened before?"

"Story of my life. Could you drive a little slower? I think I'm getting carsick..." The car rapidly decelerated and Jim wondered just how fast Spock had been driving. He cracked open an eye to check the speedometer and noticed where they were. "Oh, hell no! Spock, you turn around right now. I am not going to the hospital over a God damn bump!"

"You may have a concussion, it is logical to have a medical professional certify your health."

"One, I didn't lose consciousness. Two, the wound is bleeding down my face and not into my brain so that's awesome and good. Three, I said no fucking way. Take me home."

"Those are not accurate medical diagnoses."

"Of course you would know that. This is my life."

"Also your mother is not in residence."

"And?"

"You require supervision during your recuperation."

"I require a band-aid, maybe some soup, but what I don't need is a babysitter."

"This is not negotiable."

"Fine. Take me home and you can feed me soup and hold my hand while I sit there perfectly non-concussed."

Jim didn't comment on the green flush that stole across Spock's cheeks and ears because the world tilted nauseatingly at that moment as Spock expertly executed an illegal U-turn.

Jim lost a little time during the short commute back to his house and was prodded back to awareness when Spock lifted his limp hand from his lap and replaced it over the wound. It was an awkward struggle to enter the house. Spock attempted to assist Jim with the simple task of walking and Jim attempted to wriggle away and prove his ability to use his feet. Unfortunately his damn laces were still untied and he nearly reacquainted himself with the sidewalk before Spock caught him with a bruising grip.

Spock hovered over him while he settled comfortably on the couch. Once he was certain Jim was in position and would not move, he retrieved the Kirk Family First-Aid Kit from under the kitchen sink. Honestly, Jim knew his mom called it that only because calling it Jim's Best Friend would have been insulting (though painfully accurate). He shifted over on the couch when Spock returned to give him space to sit and attend to the mess on Jim's face. Spock's hip pressed into the dip of Jim's waist and his face came startlingly close when Spock leaned over him to begin cleaning the blood and untold scores of germs and bacteria from the gash. He let out a hiss when Spock applied the antibacterial disinfectant; it felt like it was burning through his skull. He quieted when Spock leaned closer and blew a soothing breath over the irritation.

Suddenly, Jim felt uncomfortable. He was insanely aware of Spock's proximity and it sped up his heart and sent a rush of heat to his face.

"I am going to check your temperature. You are flushed, which could indicate a fever. It is most probable that the wound is becoming infected. You should have allowed me to deliver you to the hospital."

"I'm fine. I told you, I don't need a babysitter. It's just a bump." Jim shut up at the glare Spock gave him and just opened his mouth to the thermometer that Spock insistently shoved against his lips. Jim tried to speak around the plastic under his tongue, and was rewarded with another glare as Spock held the thermometer steady.

"Do you never cease speaking?"

Jim just grinned broadly and Spock shook his head. When the device beeped, he checked the reading before disinfecting it and replacing it into the kit.

"No fever?"

"Not at this time, no."

"You sound disappointed that I'm not sicker." That earned him a horrified look, if only for a split second.

"Why would I desire such an outcome?"

Jim shrugged and tried to burrow further into the cushions while Spock dabbed at his forehead with thick gauze before covering it in a bandage. Spock gave Jim a quick once over and must have deemed him fit to live. Jim watched him clean up the medical debris and return the kit to it's home under the sink before standing over Jim again with his hands clasped behind his back and a single brow arched.

"You mentioned soup."

Jim let loose a put upon sigh and just let Spock play nursemaid. He was rapidly discovering that the Vulcan was more stubborn than he had originally thought. In no time at all, Jim found himself propped up against a comfortable mound of decorative pillows, a blanket across his lap and a bowl of vegetable soup in his hands. Spock sat on the floor in the small space between the couch and coffee table with his own serving of soup.

"Thanks, Spock."

"You are welcome." There was a beat of silence before- "Jim."

Jim found himself with a face-splitting grin and a sudden rush of euphoria at the sound of his name. Spock cleaned their bowls when they'd finished their meal, then settled back on the floor, handed Jim his book bag and began spreading out his own school work across the low table.

"I meant what I said, Spock. You don't have to stay. It's Friday night, you must have plans."

"Why should the fact that it is Friday evening mean that I have a set plan for passing the time?"

"Because you're sixteen and popular and I know for a fact that Mason Tremont is having a party tonight. I'm sure you were invited."

"Indeed, I was extended a verbal invitation to that event. An invitation that I declined."

"What? Why?"

"I am not-" Spock looked as if he was struggling to find the correct words to explain. "Mason Tremont, as well as the majority of those I socialize with, are often emotionally exuberant, and I frequently find that I must strain my mental shields to deflect their projections. They also struggle to remember that it is improper to initiate physical contact with my person. I have found that it is harder for our peers to control themselves when gathered in large groups and partaking of intoxicating beverages."

"They make you uncomfortable." When Spock didn't correct him, Jim pressed on. "Why do you hang out with them then?"

"They welcomed me into their company, which was unexpected. It would have been rude to refuse their offer of companionship. Also, I had not experienced such open acceptance before and initially was satisfied with the situation." Spock shrugged and stared at the book on the table in front of him, his fingers toying with the page.

"You're no longer satisfied?"

Spock dropped his hands to the empty space between his crossed legs and hunched into himself.

"I am finding it increasingly difficult to respond positively to their unfounded assertions about fellow students."

Jim read between the lines and found himself reaching out to Spock before clenching his hand around the blanket covering him.

"You mean me. They're saying shit about me and you don't like it."

"That is not entirely inaccurate."

"Spock?"

Wide brown eyes looked up at him with a hint of distress visible. Jim could easily guess at what was going through Spock's mind and his need to reassure the Vulcan overruled Jim's own nervousness over what he wanted to say.

"It may not mean much coming from me, but I accept you, and I enjoy your company."

Spock quickly jerked his gaze away and visibly swallowed, his hands gripping his knees under the table. His voice, when he spoke, was low and raspy.

"That is pleasing to hear."

The room felt too small and Jim squirmed in discomfort before forcing a teasing tone into his voice and breaking the awkward silence.

"Well, now that we've decided to be bffs, let's teach you how not to be a douchebag."

"I beg your pardon?"

Jim laughed at the incredulity on Spock's face and pulled out the ridiculous book that was the cause of much of Jim's grief, and waved it in front of Spock before setting it on his lap.

"I'm not giving this back. No, I don't want to hear it. In your hands this book would be used for evil and you'd come off sounding like a complete tool. So, I'm offering my assistance and valuable knowledge of the 'Human Condition'."

"That is acceptable."

They spent the rest of the evening debating the correct human responses to situations, with Jim laughing until his head felt like it was splitting in half when he got Spock to say 'am I gonna have to choke a bitch' verbatim after five minutes of Spock refusing to say anything other than 'will I be required to deprive a female canine of oxygen'. After swallowing the aspirin Spock insisted he take to ease his discomfort, Jim must have dozed off. He awoke to weak light streaming through the bay window and to find Spock curled up on the recliner, hair mussed and mouth slightly open as he slept. It was an arresting sight, completely unexpected, and Jim found himself staring for quite some time before Spock blinked awake and stared sleepily back at him.

It seemed only natural, after that, to make Spock breakfast as thanks for staying with him, which led to them arguing over the merits of bacon, and then studying for their Physics exam and Spock retrieving a documentary from his house on string theory, and then running errands that Jim needed to do. It somehow led to an entire weekend spent together, with Amanda stopping by a couple of times to check up on Jim after Spock informed her of his injury. All in all, it was the best weekend Jim could remember having in a long time.

When Monday rolled around and Jim found Spock waiting for him outside his front door, it wasn't exactly a surprise, but Jim had been wondering whether or not their new-found friendship would cross over into school hours. When Spock merely began quizzing him on string theory, Jim let himself relax and accept that maybe he wouldn't spend an entire school day invisible to everyone but the abusive assholes that usually noticed him.

In fact, he found himself the recipient of much attention when Spock chose to sit next to him in all their classes, and at lunch, and during their lab period, and in the library. And when Spock packed his belongings into his bag and stood to leave twenty minutes before Jim usually left, he thought that maybe Spock had had too much of Jim's presence and was ditching him for the cool kids again.

"I will return with the car and we shall proceed with your lessons."

"What?" It was a less than intelligent response, but Jim was lost. He knew that Spock always walked to school but it hadn't occurred to him that Spock had to walk home everyday to retrieve the car.

Spock reclaimed his seat and gave Jim a look that clearly expressed how stupid he thought Jim was being.

"My mother requires the car to commute to the university. During her lunch break she relocates the car to Atlas's parking lot where she partakes of a meal and shares a ride back to campus with a co-worker. I am able to retrieve the vehicle for your lesson, after which, I collect my mother when her last class finishes. You were not aware of this?"

"Oh. Um, well, I never really gave it much thought, though it explains why you always leave early. Um, would you mind if I joined you?"

"I would not."

They exited the school and walked in comfortable silence. Jim noticed Spock hunching down into his jacket against the cold and felt bad for ruining Spock's scarf with his blood. Once they reached the car, Spock quickly adjusted the heat to just below sweltering and Jim's guilt skyrocketed. Spock once again launched into a lecture on the aerial controls, laws pertaining to use of aerial controls and the safety measures that related to aerial travel. It was different for Jim this time around; instead of seething in frustration believing Spock was showing off and being condescending toward him, Jim understood that Spock was just being Spock.

Jim listened intently to every word Spock said and felt his anxiety grow at the complexity of using the aerial option. Yeah, he was nervous. Every year there was a news report about some kid who very nearly (or actually did) die while driving their aircar. He really didn't want this years' report to be about him.

"Jim, are you paying attention? This is extremely important, as the operation of the aerial option is complex and potentially dangerous if the driver is not completely devoted to the task."

"No, I'm paying attention. I just…" Jim chewed at his lip before blurting out his doubts. "I just don't know if I'm ever going to be able to do it without killing myself or someone else. I mean, you're a freaking Vulcan and you're admitting that it's difficult. What chance in hell does someone as uncoordinated as I am have at doing it well?"

"Jim." Spock glanced around the parking lot, his gaze settling on something that must be fascinating because he didn't look away from it. "You are an extremely capable individual. I do not believe there is a task that you could undertake that you would not excel at."

Jim knew his mouth was hanging open and his cheeks were hideously red but damn, that was maybe, no, it was definitely the best compliment he'd ever received. He didn't know what to say that wouldn't be horribly awkward and was saved from having to come up with something when Spock cleared his throat and announced that it was time for him to pick up his mother. Jim just nodded and asked to ride along.

Amanda was waiting at the curb when they pulled up and jumped into the backseat before Jim could even unsnap his seat belt. She waved away his protests in a very familiar manner that left no doubt as to from whom Spock inherited his stubborn streak.

"How are you feeling, Jim?"

"All better. It wasn't that big of a deal, though I'm grateful to both you and Spock for your concern."

"Of course it was a big deal, Jim. Head wounds are not to be taken lightly." Amanda shot him a look that was also very familiar. The more time he spent in her presence the more aware he became of how much Spock took after her. It made him wonder which mannerisms were from Spock's father. He would never ask, though; it was too sensitive a subject for their fledgling friendship.

"Well, I've got a thick skull which has endured worse treatment with no lasting damage, so I don't usually worry unless I pass out." The sudden silence made Jim look around to find him the recipient of matching glares.

"Just how many times have you suffered injury at the hands of our peers?" Spock's hands were again doing that thing where they gripped the wheel until veins bulged.

"Oh my God, calm down. It is so not as bad as you're making it sound. A few kids think they're Gods' Gift, and occasionally give me shit over being smarter than them. It's fine. I'm used to it and know where not to go and who to avoid. Seriously, it's not like I live in fear of going to school or anything." Except he had, for a while there, done just that. But that was before Spock so it wasn't relevant anymore.

"I do not think that another person laying hands upon you, intent on causing harm is fine. It is unacceptable and will cease immediately."

"Jesus, Spock. What exactly do you plan to do? You going to make an announcement over the loudspeaker to warn everyone off?" When Spock cocked his head as though he were actually considering doing just that, Jim flipped his shit. "You will not, under any circumstances, do that. Seriously, what the fuck, Spock? So I get roughed up occasionally, it's not your concern. It doesn't affect you so just let it alone."

"It does affect me. As your friend it would be unconscionable for me to allow harm to befall you. I will not allow it, in fact. Do not argue with me as you have no say in this matter. I will put an end to it by whatever means I deem reasonable."

"Oh my God. You are so... just…ARGH!" Jim choked the air in front of him out of frustration and banged his head against the window, wincing at the flash of pain the action brought.

"Cease harming yourself. You are being childish. I do not understand your reaction to my expressed concern for your welfare. Explain."

"I'm not being childish! I can take care of myself, Spock. I've been doing it for a long time and I don't need you swooping in to save me from the mean kids."

"Clearly that is not that case. While I concede that you are extremely capable of seeing to your own care, it is unreasonable to refuse assistance when it is being offered freely. I wish to help you, Jim. Why does this displease you so greatly?"

"It doesn't displease me, okay. It's just fucking weird is all. I'm not used to having someone who's not my mom worry about me. I'm sorry, but it's gonna take me a while to adjust to the oddness of having someone give a fuck about whether or not I'm getting my ass handed to me."

"Adjust in silence, Jim. Your cussing is unnecessary and inappropriate in front of my mother."

Jim jerked around immediately to offer up his apologies to Spock's mom but stopped at the expression on her face.

"What?" He watched in confusion as a smile spread across her face.

"Absolutely nothing. Why don't you stay for dinner tonight, Jim?"

"Can't. My mom's back tonight and she promised me pizza as a reward for surviving in her absence. Rain check?"

"Of course."

Jim shot a questioning look at Spock, asking silently why his mom was being weird. He got an eyebrow shrug in return and they rode the rest of the way home in semi-awkward silence, with Amanda smiling to herself and occasionally chuckling without reason.