If this were a movie, this is where the camera would pan out, backwards, out through the view screen. It was a perfect happy ending to a well executed, though somewhat unnecessarily dramatic (people who could control your mind from ten feet away had a tendency to cause this, he'd noticed), mission. Jim was comfortable, with Bones behind him, Sulu and Chekov chirping back and forth about thrusters and directions. Scotty chimed over the Com that the damage to the Matter-Anti-Matter chambers was minor, and phazer one would be back up-to-snuff in no time.

"Uhura," Jim leaned back in his hair, tilting his head to see her around a largely in-the-way Bones. "Contact Starfleet, infor—"
"Already done," She looked over her shoulder at him. She offered a smile, a small one, but it was genuine. He smiled back, before looking back at the view screen. Six months in, life was going much smoother. Despite their constant barrage of menial missions. Which, in Jim's own experienced, seemed more like intergalactic errands than super space exploration—except for the times they got attacked, possessed, diseased, stuck, or some other overly excessive unnecessary reaction from either a planet or its people; which was odd, because, as far as he'd noticed, this shit never happened to anyone else in the fleet. But, he was in no way complaining, because the always changing scenarios kept him largely on his feet.

There was a lull in activity after a stressful mission. Bones began to talk to Jim about his increasingly pale complexion ('Are you sleeping?' 'When I can.' 'When I can is not enough.') and Jim was blatantly ignoring him, more in favor of seeming fixated on the space shooting by just in front of him. "Warp Six."
"Aye, Captain," Sulu nodded, pushing a lever.

He bit his nail, narrowing his eyes at the screen. They were still there, the eyes on him. In most cases he was used to it, but not from the particular direction he felt them staring.

Jim had always had a thing for being sexually psychic, when it came to someone making 'moony-eyes' as Bones fondly referred to it. It was like his own personal super power. And his radar was going berserk from behind and right of him—a general direction recognized as 'science station' direction. He swiveled abruptly in his seat.

Spock had his back to him.

Hm. He'd never been wrong before.
"—And you're erratic behavior only makes me worry even more, Jim. Jim?"
"Mm?"
"Are you listening to me? Why am I even asking, you never listen to me." Jim looked up at a disgruntled companion.
"You sound like my mother."
Bones waved his hands near his head, before walking off the back of the raised Captain's platform and headed towards the turbo lift. "If you die, you know where to find me."
"I find it quite improbable he will be in need of your medical assistance, Doctor, if the Captain finds himself deceased."

Bones looked at Spock, who looked up with innocent, speculative eyes. He gave him a look right back, before instructing the doors shut and he vanished down the shoot. Spock looked back to his station.

"Who knows, perhaps I may be more extraordinary a man than you think."

"It is impossible for someone who is dead, Captain, to maneuver around to find assistance. Death can not be cured, merely postponed while the subject is still living."

"Maybe I'd become a zombie." Spock turned to look at him, and Jim grinned. Spock just arched a delicate brow. "I mean I'm damn near awesome enough that by pure awesome alone I could survive."

"One can not 'survive' death. Death is concrete and unchangeable."

"Concrete cracks." For all he was worth, Jim knew that had stumped his first officer by the way his brows barely moved inward towards each other.

"I did not imply the paving substan—"
"I know." Jim waved a hand, turning is chair back to face the view screen. "I know, Spock."

"Captain, Incoming hail from Starfleet. A request for another mission."
"You mean they need me to run another errand. All right, connect them to the screen." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his knees. Even as the informant appeared and Jim put on his most charming smile, he could still feel the lingering of Spock's gaze on the back of his head.

His smile reached its maximum—He was never wrong.