I know its short, but I'm having writers block. I've had this part written for months, so I thought I might as well publish it to give you guys something. Yeah, I'll eventually change the chapter tittle, but it was all I can think of.

This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening!

Jim's mind was reeling with what was happening. The urge to feel his head for the virtual reality helmet made his hands itch, highlighting the fact he could no longer feel his controller. What was going on?

"Captain, if you are unwell, perhaps it would be wise to call Doctor McCoy to the bridge."

Jim's mouth opened and closed uselessly like a gaping fish, looking around the bridge. All eyes were on him.

McCoy? That was right, the new CMO he appointed had that name. How did this NPC know that?

At Jim's lack of response, Spock's eyebrow furrowed just a bit. "Lieutenant Uhura, call Dr. McCoy to the bridge."

"No!" Jim's sudden outburst had everyone looking a tad concerned. Clearing his throat, he tried to remain as composed as possible as he explained himself. "No, I'm fine. I was just in the middle of thinking about our next mission," he lied. Unconsciously, he stood straighter trying to exert the image of a captain. "However, I do need to attend to some business. Spock, take the conn."

"I would prefer if you would address me as Commander or Mr. Spock, Captain."

Jim blinked. That was a bit rude, or maybe it was just the way it was delivered, emotionless yet somehow carrying a bit of annoyance.

"Sure, Commander. You have the bridge." He had the urge to just run to the turbo lift. For all sakes and purposes, he was glad he didn't. Once leaving the bridge, the hallways, was crowded with officers attending their duties, checking panels, using the turbo lift, and engaging in small talk. It would have been embarrassing to have a captain running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Every member who wasn't busy stopped to salute, some greeted him, others looked nervous around him. Jim gave nods of approval, muttering a few "at ease" to others, mimicking what he thought a captain would. Somehow, beyond all reasonable doubt he made it to his quarters without getting lost or losing it. The moment the door closed behind him. He was on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

"What the hell is going on?" He muttered, pacing back and forth. How could a game suddenly become real?

Just to make sure, he placed his hands on his head, and sure enough, his headset was no longer there. He was looking through his own eyes, not through a screen. What was he going to do? It went past being stuck in the game. The NPCs were moving around and having normal interactions like real people. How was this even possible?

Panic spread through his body as his paced faster and faster, trying to wrap his mind around it.

Then he stopped.

Should he really be looking at this so negatively? Isn't this what he always wanted? This is probably a dream anyway. He probably fell asleep with his headset on again. Even if that wasn't the case, wasn't he just complaining about the life he would have to live in the real world right before this happened? He should be elated to have the opportunity to live through the life he always wanted.

But it also wasn't his nature to not look a gift horse in the mouth. That's how you got burned. There was always a catch.

Breathing in and exhaling sharply out, he explored his quarters. It looked how he designed it. The medals he had earned were in a frame on the wall, his closet contained the different uniforms he had earned and designed. The PADD that was always available to look at was on his desk though this time, he could move it away from its original position, and there seemed to be a hidden compartment where all the guns he had chosen to keep in his inventory had been transferred to.

So he still had access to his inventory in a weird way. It was all there, just in a more believable way.

Kirk stood, processing what he should do now, catching sight of himself in the mirror. He looked like his real-world self. Slightly flabby from working at a desk job and a thick pair of glasses. Well that didn't look captainly. He looked like someone who worked at NASA. Well not anymore. This game, dream, whatever this was, was his new chance.

Feeling a bit better having his gear, he didn't feel so ill-prepared. He could do this. Until he could figure out something, he would fake the part. It couldn't be too hard right? He was a rocket scientist for crying out loud.

He took off his glasses to look at them. There didn't seem anything special about them. They seemed quite similar to the ones he wore in the real world. Thin gold frames, nothing too dorky or cool. Something average people with an average job would wear.

"Captain?"

The sound of Spock's voice and the door opening startled Jim, breaking the fragile object in his hand with a soft, crack. Jim's eyes widened as he divided his attention between Spock and the broken object, gaping. "Haven't you heard of knocking?!" He finally said.

"Excuse my intrusion Captain, but I had been knocking the past 1.3 minutes. As the computer pinpointed your location to this room, I knew you were present. Given your off behavior on the bridge, I hypothesized you may be encountering health problems and entered the override." Spock looked down curiously at the glasses. "It was unexpected to discover that you wear glasses. Most choose to undergo corrective surgery over corrective lenses."

"Still waiting to hear an apology, Commander."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I do not understand. For what purpose would an apology serve when I have already explained the reason for my intrusion?"

Kirk had a biting remark at the ready, but refrained, grinding his teeth instead. Were all Vulcans this pretentious? "Call it common courtesy."

Spock blinked. "Very well. I apologize."

With his monotone voice, it didn't sound an ounce sincere. Which only served to further aggravate Jim. "Is there a reason why you are off the bridge, Commander?"

"As we are conducting standard star charting until our next orders arrive, I wished to speak with you. As a new member aboard the Enterprise, I wish to clarify my duties and what you expect of me in the capacity as your first officer."

Star charting? Was that what the crew did when he was away from the game? "That's something that could be discussed after shift, isn't it?"

"I logically deduced that it would be more beneficial to establish it now so that I can perform my duties to optimal capacity. A brief summary would suffice."

"Of course it is," he muttered, doing everything he can to not rub a hand through his hair in frustration. Was it too much to ask for a little peace and quiet so he could figure out a life changing circumstance. What would a good captain say? "I appreciate your commitment to the job, Commander, but I have my hands full with Starfleet at the moment. I guarantee you that I'll answer all your questions about your position after shift. Is that acceptable?"

Spock blinked again, and Jim wondered if there was something wrong with his programming that somehow translated into reality. To be honest, he hadn't read up on Vulcans. Sure, they were referenced a handful of times, but they were rare in game. So rare in fact, Kirk had never met one until now.

"As you are captain, my opinion on when you wish to conduct business with me is irrelevant," was Spock's eventual response.

Kirk felt his eye twitch. "I'll see you after shift, Commander. You are dismissed."

"Sir."

It was a relief when Spock left. Spock was going to be the one pushing his buttons often, he could already tell. Granted, that might have been his fault, recalling his change to Spock's bio before the server shutdown. Yeah, he probably deserved this.

Picking up the PADD, still marveling that it was now real, Jim thought about his glasses. Well he needed to see if medbay was actually functioning or just for show eventually. This was as good a time as any. Checking the ship's map, he double checked the route to medbay, and sure enough it was still in the same spot. He could walk there confidently without looking completely lost.

This time he took the chance to look through his ship, noting the new details and memorizing the faces of the crew members. As some members saluted him and said good morning captain, this time around, he gave a small smile and nodded encouragingly. He was still stiff and awkward but this time he felt giddiness. This was really happening. He was a real captain of a star ship. He almost couldn't keep that childlike grin off his face. He managed to do so, but he was jumping around on the inside.

He gave a suave smile to a group of ensigns just as he entered sickbay. The smell of a hospital hit his nose. The medbay was also slightly bigger than he remembered. Every time he died in game on a planet-based mission, he would wake up here, which wasn't often as he gained more experience. No one was there minus a few staff members. No surprise since it had been a while since he had gone on a mission.

The character, Dr. McCoy, was hunched over a microscope, jotting something down on his PADD. It was amazing seeing what was once an NPC, who would normally stand around medbay or pretend to talk to a patient actually working. It was a marvel. So much so, Jim just stood at the entrance staring.

The doctor suddenly stopped moving, swirling around in his chair. His storm gray eyes were narrowed, and he held a scowl on his lips. "There you are. I've been waiting for you to get your ass down here for your physical."

"Wha—" The rude address took him by surprise.

His hesitation must have been some sort of weakness. The doctor traversed the medbay still ranting as he approached. "I've been waiting four days for you to come down here, and here you are sauntering in after making me wait. I can't believe I was transferred to a snot nosed kid."

Still trying to adjust to the aggressive doctor, he barely had time to put together that McCoy had arrived on his ship 4 days ago before he was jabbed with a hypo to the neck. "What the hell?"

"Don't be a baby. Do you have any idea what type of diseases and viruses are floating around on this metal tin can? You are so behind on your vaccines, it makes me wonder what the hell your last CMO was doing."

Through all the yelling, Jim couldn't respond. Something about all this was familiar, making it easy for the doctor to pull Jim along with his pace, unable to fight back. He just couldn't put his finger on why.

"Get on the bed and take off your shirt," he growled.

As Jim moved to listen to the doctor's orders it finally hit him. "Bones?" he said under his breath.

"Hm?" The doctor looked up from his PADD briefly. "What bones?"

The tone was different than he imagined, but the words definitely reminded Jim of his friend Bones, the player who had given Dr. McCoy to him. "Nothing. Nothing." He did as he was told, taking off his glasses. He paused then put his glasses back on. When he did so, he noticed that his vision was blurry.

"You wear glasses? I didn't notice anything in your records," the doctor kept murmuring to himself, scanning over the documents.

"Uh, no. It's just a relic I received as a gift. I must have forgotten they were on." He took them off. His vision was fixed. Just a second ago he needed his glasses. Was it because his profile said he didn't wear them, so the program corrected itself or was this really a dream? What else changed about him?

After McCoy did his physical, he was able to find out. Other than being a little overweight and his cardio lacking, his asthma was gone as well as his allergy to seafood. However, in return he seemed to have developed allergies to certain medications. A worthy trade if anyone asked him. Now that his asthma was no longer a problem, he could work out without worrying about an inhaler. It felt like a whole world of possibilities had opened up to him. In the back of his mind, concern tingled about this new development, but he shoved it aside, for now. He didn't want to dwell too much on it.

"Well we may need to put you on a diet and exercise regimen to meet regulation weight, but I suppose you pass," he grumbled.

"Why do you sound so disappointed about that," Jim laughed, putting on his shirt.

"I wouldn't be so happy if I were you." McCoy jammed a PADD into his chest. "I expect you to follow this to the letter. I ain't no babysitter, so I expect you to do your part."

Jim started to grin at the double negative. "My babysitter huh. I think I'm going to look forward in seeing you around, Bones."

The doctor frowned at the nickname, but Jim waved it off like it was no big deal. "Let me know if you need anything," Jim said as he put on his shirt.

"You could fix those damn replicators. Man can't get a decent country meal with the gravy tasting like flavored cardboard."

Jim laughed. "I'll see what I can do." Patting the doctor on his back, he hopped off the examination table. "Well I got captaining to do, so I'll see you later."

"Who said you could leave," the doctor grabbed his shirt before he could escape. "You have 10 other vaccinations you need to get. I can only give them three of them at a time before waiting an hour to give you the next batch."

Jim cringed. "Well, you know, I have things I need to do, being captain and all." Jim tried to scoot towards the door as casually as possible.

"Yeah, it's the middle of your shift yet you're busy down here goofing off."

Jim paled at being caught, and the doctor gave him an all-knowing look. Spock must have ratted him out, that bastard. "Get back on the table kid. You got four hours until the end of your shift. Just enough time to catch you up on your vaccinations."

Jim forced a smile, getting back on the table as the doctor roughly jabbed another hypo into his neck. He'd get Spock back for this. Just he wait.