Disclaimer: I am but a poor fangirl unworthy to even bask in the light of the genius of J.J. Abrams & Gene Roddenberry. Or the beauty of Zach & Chris.

I've no beta and am currently engaged in a rather passionate affair with commas and semi colons. I think you'll find them abundant in my writing, though not necessarily used correctly.

Um, as this is intended to be interpreted as kinda slashy (squint or you may miss it!) it's obviously not canon and a few other things I use as tools to move my so-called plot along aren't accurate either. I am aware, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't stress about it and just enjoy the story. The captain's chair I'm using in my mind is closer to the one in the show than the movie. (Haven't seen in the movie in a while but I'm pretty sure it had a high back. Mine doesn't.) Dammit Jim, I'm a writer not a fact checker!

….

James T. Kirk, devilishly handsome Captain of the Enterprise and genius extraordinaire, was bored. Bored to the point of tears and alpha shift was barely half over. In Jim Kirk time that meant all eternity stood between him and something, anything, remotely interesting. He slid a little lower in his captain's chair and glared at the PADD in his hand. The paperwork was so not helping. 'Where's an angry Romulan when you need one?' Laying his head back with a sigh, the blonde abandoned the regulation paper-pushing and set about trying to balance the PADD's stylus on the end of his nose in an obviously desperate attempt to entertain himself.

….

Uhura was bored, they all were. After the initial excitement of being a part of the Alpha crew on the Federation flagship had worn off everything remotely routine, like border patrol, became tedious. So far she'd spent the majority of her shift translating old communiqués from their original languages into standard and back again, trying to amuse herself by seeing how many transitions she could make before the message totally dissolved into gibberish.

Hearing the captain's sigh and welcoming the distraction, Uhura turned away from her station to look at Kirk. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand in order to stifle a giggle. She and the blonde didn't always get along. Especially whenever he was being particularly flirtatious; during such times she often felt, and barely retrained, the urge to kick him somewhere rather sensitive. However, even she had to admit that the captain's antics were usually entertaining, if not hilarious. (Unless diplomacy or some such serious matter was at stake, in such instances her urge to kick him would return.) She really couldn't be blamed for wanting to laugh, the captain's pose at the moment was definitely amusing. Though the thought struck her in the back of her mind that if she didn't find Kirk's personality so grating she would probably find the scene before her more drool worthy than funny.

The man was sprawled in his chair, it could hardly be called sitting as his rear end was perched precariously on the edge of the seat, his head resting on the seat back. With his legs stretched out before him, knees bent at a near ninety degree angle with his feet planted firmly on the ground; he looked like he was performing some perverted version of a yoga bridge pose. Every time he moved his arms to reposition the stylus on his nose the hem of his gold shirt would rise a few more centimeters, showing an increasingly larger amount of taut golden skin.

Uhura become aware that she wasn't the only one watching the captain when Kirk muttered under his breath and wiggled his hips in an attempt to gain some sort of positional advantage on the stylus. Several officers and yeomen were defiantly staring; Uhura was sure she spotted drool on a science officer's face. Once again she felt the urge to laugh bubble up with her. Idly she wondered what Spock would say, or do, to the gaping science officer, who was supposed to be filling in for the Vulcan until he returned from helping Scotty in engineering.

….

Jim cursed as quietly as possible and shifted his weight, hoping a different angle would help him balance the now offending metal stick. 'Maybe this would be easier if my nose weren't so perfect. If I had a dimple or a pock mark for this thing to settle into….' If he weren't so bored Jim would have given up trying to get the stylus to stay on his nose a while ago. He wasn't exactly known for his powers of concentration. Not that he didn't try. It was just that there was so much stuff out there, so much information to be absorbed, that he really couldn't be bothered to sit in one place for too long. He might miss something.

….

Spock allowed his eyebrow a slight twitch of irritation as he waited for the lift to complete its journey to the bridge. Montgomery Scott was beginning to frazzle his Vulcan nerves. The engineer was brilliant, but rather eccentric. His constant tinkering with the warp drives and teleport equipment had become quite legendary throughout the federation. Spock tolerated the man because of his brilliance-the same way he put up with James Kirk-but he was growing weary of being hustled down to engineering every few days to check the man's math. The Scotsman seemed to believe Spock's purpose aboard the Enterprise was to serve as some kind of glorified fact checker.

Given his limited comprehension of human motivators the Vulcan could not tell if this conclusion had come from witnessing Spock's broad range of knowledge or if the engineer was making fun of him.

The Vulcan collected his thoughts as the lift doors opened and stepped onto the bridge. On the way to his station he paused-.7385 seconds- and changed direction. He stopped in front of the captain's chair and surveyed the members of the Alpha shift. A few had looked up when he had entered, Nyota had given him a smile, and then they returned to their work. The captain had not reacted. Spock met Dr Hanison's eyes and quietly informed the woman that she could leave. His temporary replacement shot the captain a lingering look and left.

Spock turned his attention to the blonde human before him. The Captain had an attention span shorter than the life of a fruit fly. In the second month-first week second day- of their five year mission the Vulcan's irritation at having to constantly remind the human of his duties had erupted into full-blown annoyance and he had confronted the man in his quarters.

"Captain I do not understand why you insisted I serve as your first officer. Perhaps you would have been better served to hire a babysitter."

The blonde smiled at him ruefully. "Yeah, well, I don't know about you but I can't see the brass shelling out for that one."

Spock lifted an eyebrow.

The captain waved a hand dismissively. "Okay, look: I know I have discipline problems. My mind wanders and I follow after it like a love-sick puppy. If it wasn't for your Vulcan upbringing I bet you'd be as easily distracted as I am. There is so much out there Spock, new worlds, new people- my brain gets all tingly just thinking about it!"

Spock allowed his other eyebrow to rise. "Captain-"

Kirk cut him off, "Yeah I know, it's illogical, you don't get the relevancy, blah blah blah."

The captain came around his desk to stand in front of the Vulcan. "Basically it all comes down to this: I respect you Spock and I trust you. You are the only one who can make me pay attention when I go off on a tangent, usually by making yourself a pain-in-the-butt-know-it-all, but the results are still the same. I need you as my First because you are the only person who can keep me in line."

The blonde grinned. "Well, Uhura probably could, but I know I can trust you not to abuse your power."

He sighed and briefly laid a hand on Spock's left shoulder, "I'm sorry if the last month has been hard on you, I'm not doing it on purpose, I promise. I am trying, please don't give up on me."

Spock readily admitted that the Captain had improved since their discussion eight months-one week, three days, fourteen hours, and thirty-six minutes- ago. The man rarely turned in late paperwork anymore and actually remained focused for the majority of his shift. There was however, the occasional relapse. Typically during what Kirk liked to call 'guard duty.' The blonde found these assignments patrolling the neutral zone particularly boring.

The Vulcan stood, hands at his sides, and observed his captain. The man was currently engaged in an attempt to balance a PADD stylus on his nose. Spock took in the pose and the growing patch of skin at the blonde's waist while he considered the best way to reprimand the human for his immaturity. It was very human of him, but he was almost looking forward to relieving the irritation the engineer had left him with.

Spock had known for a while that his meditation served to absolve most of his frustrations and other emotional issues but some spark of tension always remained. He deduced the cause to be his human heritage and had tried different meditation practices and even a few human methods of stress relief only to stumble across a viable solution during an Alpha shift. Kirk had been particularly difficult that day and the Vulcan was surprised to discover that after he had 'bullied' the captain into performing his work properly, his discomfort had disappeared. Spock decided that it was highly unlikely that anyone would guess he was taking advantage of a fringe benefit to keeping the captain in line-much less suspect that he would have need of such a thing-that it would be acceptable to continue.

Spock mentally ran down the list of responsibilities for the day, looking for something appropriate to chastise his captain with. He had reduced the list to three items when Kirk shifted in his chair and distracted him. The shift in his position caused the gold officer's shirt to ride up the man's abdomen further to reveal a wider expanse of skin. Spock felt his head slightly to the left as he thought, idly taking in the sight before him. The human's bellybutton was visible and the subtle crease of the man's Adonis belt, both with a faint cover of blonde hair that darkened as it ran south and disappeared beneath regulation trousers. Even in later reflection Spock could not find or attribute any reasoning to what he did next: he extended his arm and brushed his fingertips over the constellation of moles to the right of the captain's bellybutton.

Kirk let out a whoop of laughter and tumbled from his chair, clutching his stomach. Spock stepped back to avoid him and quickly schooled his features into their customary Vulcan blankness. The blonde's laughter faded and he glared up at his First officer.

"That tickled…what'd you do that for Spock?"

Considering he himself didn't know what had prompted him to touch the captain Spock though it best to lie. "You haven't finished your report Captain."

He coolly stepped around the man on the floor and returned to his station. He heard the blonde grumbling behind him but he ignored the human. Tickling…he had heard of the phenomena. Light contact on the pain receptors in the skin translated by the brain as humorous. He had never experienced this himself, but he had read about it and had just now witnessed it for himself. Spock looked back at the captain- who was now seated properly- and watched the man work for a moment. The human's face was slightly flushed and he seemed unusually focused on the paperwork in front of him. He didn't appear to have suffered any ill effects.

This tickling merited future study. Perhaps the captain would like to help…. The Vulcan felt the corner of his mouth tug in semblance of a smile.

So…not too horrible? Was Spock too OOC? Let me know what you think!

Feedback makes Spock smile. [: