Kirk snored loudly, lying on Spock's bed in his wrinkled clothes just as he had ever since he had stumbled in from a night out two hours before. Spock had been out late himself, spending some quality time with his engineering project. Kirk had finished his much earlier so that he could go club-hopping with friends. His project, a potato battery, sat on his desk. Spock's project, a miniaturized warp matrix flux capacitor made from two old tablets, a used television, and a toaster, was currently is in his hands. He stood between the beds, somewhat at a loss what to do. He was tired, this he knew. He wanted to sleep, this was obviously. However, there was the problem of his bed being presently occupied by Kirk.

He had hoped that his roommate would wake up so that Spock could ask him to vacate the bed. Unfortunately, half an hour had passed and Kirk snored determinedly on. Spock poked the unconscious Kirk tentatively and then harder, and a little harder. Kirk snorted.

Spock considered dragging his roommate off of the bed and onto the floor. If Kirk didn't wake to such provocation, then he could finish the night on the floor. But Kirk smelled, and Spock didn't want to touch him.

Slowly, he forced himself to consider the unpleasant possibility that he had, until then, emphatically avoided. He looked back at Kirk's rumpled, unmade bed sheets. They were dark green with small cartoonish dinosaurs and spaceships printed on them. Spock had always disapproved of these sheets for they erroneously displayed dinosaurs and modern earth crafts coexisting when humans in fact had not even evolved at the time of the dinosaurs. Indeed, mammals had only been small, rat like creatures at the time with many features still similar to their reptile ancestors. How could any manufacturer have the audacity to produce such misleading and inaccurate products at the expense of young, impressionable children… and Kirk?

Spock sniffed the bed tentatively and was quite sure that the sheets hadn't even been removed since they had first been placed on the bed at the beginning of the year. The thought of whatever unpleasant was surely growing between those sheets made Spock's skin crawl.

He carefully tucked his flux capacitor under on arm and, with his free hand, tried to arrange the covers into a more reasonable manner. Then he retrieved his bath towel and laid it on top of Kirk's newly made bed. Tentatively, Spock lay down on the towel and stared at the ceiling, his flux capacitor resting on his stomach with his hands protectively around it.

In all of his life Spock had never slept in the right corner of a room. For some reason he'd always naturally gravitated toward the left. It had always seemed to be the comfortable, familiar choice. Now, lying on a bed tucked in the right corner of the room, he felt extremely exposed. Spock preferred to lie on his right side. When he did so in his bed, his face was towards the wall. Now when he lay on his right side, he faced the middle of the room. There was no closure, no boundary. So he turned to lie on his left side. Now his face was towards the wall and he felt the comfort of the wall's parameters but his body felt somewhat wrong. For some reason his left shoulder and arm seemed awkward and in the way and he couldn't find a way of laying on them without his left hand falling asleep.

Fitfully, Spock tossed himself on his back, staring at the ceiling once more. He knew what he was experiencing was not logical; it did not really matter what side of the room one slept on. But he simply could not bring himself to be comfortable in this new territory. There was only one solution. Every room had two left corners.

Kirk groaned as he awoke. The little light pouring through the slits in the blinds seared his eyes and he saw spots that obscured his vision completely for about thirty seconds. He stumbled out of bed, holding his aching head with one hand and groping blindly with the other for his desk. He tried to open the bottom drawer of the cabinets beneath the desk where he kept his hangover treatments (Alka-Seltzer and brandy) but the drawer stuck on something and wouldn't open. Kirk blinked hard and his vision began to clear. The drawer was caught on a foot.

Kirk yelled and jumped back. Something thudded loudly in his closet and he heard someone say, "Ow!"

After composing himself, Kirk examined the foot. It was attached to a leg, and an abdomen, but the rest of the body was obscured, tucked halfway into his closet. Kirk opened the half-shut door of his closet and looked inside.

Spock groaned and rubbed his head, which he had just cracked on the bottom shelf of Kirk's closet, having been startled awake by his roommate's yell.

"What on earth are you doing?" Kirk exclaimed, looking down at Spock.

The Vulcan crawled out of the closet, sitting cross-legged on the floor as he nursed his head wound.

"I was sleeping until you awakened me by your obvious overreaction to the situation." Spock replied coolly.

"You were in my closet!"

"Yes," Spock said, standing up and straightening his clothing, "but only because you were in my bed."

Kirk looked completely dumfounded now. "Then why didn't you just sleep in my bed like a normal person?"

Spock sniffed. "I'd rather not discuss the matter."

Kirk shook his head. "Whatever. I'm going to go take a shower. I smell like a bar."

"For once I agree with you." Spock replied. "I need to make a few adjustments to my—"

CRUNCH.

Kirk, who had stepped into his closet in order to reach a clean towel on the very top shelf, lifted his foot tentatively.

"Dude, you left a bunch of crap on the bottom of the closet." He scraped the crumbled bits of metal, plastic and toaster out of the closet with a sweep of his foot.

"My miniaturized warp matrix flux capacitor!" Spock exclaimed; it was the closest thing to a wail he had produced since infancy. Kirk looked down at the pile of parts and then grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry. You really shouldn't leave stuff like that lying around."

Spock's mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.

"Quit doing that, you look like a fish." Kirk said. He clapped Spock on the shoulder. "Listen, don't worry about your project! Just go to the dining hall and get a potato. It took me two minutes to make it into a battery. With your brains, you could probably do it in four."

Then Kirk pulled off his shirt, flipped his towel over his shoulder and, whistling, made his way to the showers.

Spock stared at the pile of twisted pieces of flux capacitor in horrified silence. Weakly, he swept up the parts and listlessly began trying to fit them together at his desk. If he had a whole day perhaps he could fix it but class started in just over an hour. He looked over at the potato battery on Kirk's desk.

When Kirk returned he had been sobered up from his shower and feeling a little more penitent.

"Hey Spock," he said, opening the dorm room door, "listen, I'm really sorry about your thing. I'll make you a potato battery if you—"

Kirk scanned the room. Spock was gone. As was Kirk's potato battery project!

"You little…!"

Kirk spun around and left the room again, sprinting down the hall to try and catch his project thieving roommate.

Half an hour later Spock wowed his engineering class with a polarized temporal hyperlink generator made out of a potato battery and a toaster.