silly

He doesn't say it in response to a suggestion. He doesn't say it in isolation, in response to nothing at all, which would likely, or at least hopefully, divert him from culpability, and thereafter assorted blame.

He says it to Spock, because Spock has just stipulated calmly that he had sat ramrod-straight in his chair on the bridge well past the close of alpha shift, during which time the captain had been fully preoccupied with Dr. McCoy, because he did not wish to dine alone (and apparently he did wish to dine, rather than simply retiring to his quarters), and of course Kirk's not the type of man to stand there and not laugh (goodnaturedly, of course) at that.

"What did you just call me, Captain?"

"Spock, you're silly."

With an indulgent turtling of his head into his neck, one shoulder up and also the opposite side of his mouth, quite definitely a crinkle of one or both eyes, Starfleet Captain James T. Kirk (you know, as a mother would scold him, using the full thing for effect, or perhaps it's a little more...you know, than that) has called Spock silly. And that...

Well. That is...quite the thing.

"I said you're silly, Spock. You know--"

Jim stops, suddenly somehow utterly confounded. While his strongest, most prominent feeling here is that there's no way that Spock could possibly be offended, of all things, at Kirk affectionately teasing him, no matter how he ends up explaining it, there's no denying that it could be far too easy to accidentally hurt his First Officer in the process, through no intention of either of them.

It would be...patronizing. Condescending. Yes, offensive, to imply that a Vulcan's commanding officer views his indiscretions towards the side of taboo humanity's illogic as cute, before they've even established that they, the indiscretions and the officers both, are even so integral as they - quite plainly - are.

"Didn't your mother ever call you silly, Mr. Spock?"

Surely that's a safe invocation of the heavenly ideal and idyll of Amanda Grayson, if there even are any before her ever-razor-sharp scion and protector.

Spock inclines his head in response. "I do not believe so, Jim."

The game of formality and title, names epithets as much as the actual signifiers themselves, is unimportant, idle. Jim sweeps it aside.

"Never? Not one 'oh, you silly goose'?"

Sweet silly goose, and darling, and wonderful, and adorable, and...

Woah there, boy. Even for him, that's a little much. It's just a little too convenient that he can imagine a mother saying those things to her stubborn, too-mature-for-his-own-good son, and then also himself, but meaning things somewhat completely different. A little too convenient that he could have offered the example offhand, and then just as casually - cavalierly - denied it.

But meant it all the same, and quite possibly have Spock understand so in the most subtle, careful, arch manner possible.

Only problem is, he didn't.

"No," repeats Spock.

"Will you believe me if I promise it's a good thing?"

"Captain-"

"-Ah, no, don't say it. I know what you're going to say."

Up goes the eyebrow; it's cliché, it's cliché.

"You're going to say it's not logical for you to just-" Kirk's lips and hands and chest spill forward all at once in the muffled effusivity of his meaning "-believe me, as if I've invented a new homonym that's never existed before, the same way if I called you 'baby' you'd tell me you're not a human child."

In perfect correspondence, all of Spock's faculties turn inwards.

Accidental admission? Accidental omission?

Something like that.

Kirk closes his eyes and gestures with middle and ring fingers, the index and pinky following in the flickering beckon. "Come on, say it."

Spock doesn't linger on anything so petulant as a "Say what, Captain?" What would be the point?

He'd be lying if he said he didn't catch on, and while that's no great feat for such a crafty mind as him and his, the opportunity for a verbal, quasi-fraternal coup de grâce is much greater, always.

Of course he's caught on. Of course he'll use this new information to his utmost advantage, and completely fairly at that.

Spock dips his chin, ever gracious. Kirk sweats, metaphorically, in response. Everybody else has departed for the mess, and the ensigns taking over for beta shift are very purposefully not paying the captain any mind, not because of present company but because he's the captain and any opportunity to escape the pressure of his steady gaze, no matter how affable he may be, is a welcome one.

No, even with Bones and Scotty and whoever else departed and unable to witness whatever verbal blow Kirk has just requested be lain upon this head, there's no winning here.

"Jim, you're silly."