A/N: Do I have time to start up another WIP this year when I already have three others? Heck no. Am I gonna do it anyway? HEck ya!

In introspect, Carol Marcus should have known all along. After all, she was there from the start. But for reasons she's finding hard to figure out, it takes over a month of knowing Jim Kirk to realize that the Jim Kirk Effect is indeed a very real and powerful thing. And she's in Riverside Iowa of all places, with a group of fellow cadets and new recruits, when it all starts.

Riverside Iowa is honestly the last place she wants to be right now. It's a backwater, dusty, bumfunk of a town that somehow is the birthplace of at least three different Constellation Class Ships and where the USS Enterprise is currently being built.

But it's the last stop they'll take before they hit San Francisco and the Academy, so Carol finds herself in a bar with her fellow cadets, celebrating. They did pass their sim with flying colors after all.

The air is smoky, the room is crowded, and there's a few gross men leering at her, so she had ducked through the crowd and perched herself on a stool by the bar. She'd need a few drinks to get through tonight.

"Shot of Jack Daniels, straight up," she says, over the noise of the room.

"Make that two. Her shot's on me," a smooth voice cuts in, as the bartender puts a glass in front of her.

Carol glances over, ready to cut whoever off when—

Oh.

That was a very charming smile. And a gorgeous set of blue eyes.

Carol looks over at the other cadets. They're starting to get a bit rowdy as the alcohol sets in, but no one's gotten into trouble yet. She probably has time before they kicked out for bad behavior, or at least before they hit their curfew.

She turns back to blue eyes.

"Carol Marcus," she holds out her hand.

He reaches behind the alien sitting between them and takes it, his mouth twisting into a smirk. "Jim Kirk."

If she had figured out that the Jim Kirk Effect was a real thing, she would have realized, at that moment, that it wasn't always a good one.

"Does anyone want to explain to me who the hell thought it was a good idea to attack a civilian and beat him up six ways to hell?" Christopher Pike demands sharply, as he steps outside of the bar.

Carol internally winces. Pike looks pissed, but justifiably so. Hendroff and his little group were way out of line.

"He was getting inappropriate with Cadet Marcus, Sir," Finnegan offers, causing her to roll her eyes.

Pike fixes his stare on Carol, one eyebrow raised.

"He bought me a drink and we talked about Molecular Biology," Carol innocently intones, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Pike pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "Suspension for the whole lot of you. Now get out of my sight."

"Dramatic much," Carol mutters to the dark skinned girl next to her—Uriel? Uhura? Yes Uhura—who smirks in appreciation.

Pike heads back towards the bar—most likely to make sure said civilian doesn't press charges. Carol watches him for a moment before turning away, annoyed. Just when she had started to enjoy the evening, a bunch of fresh faced cadets had to ruin it.

But how the hell did some Farmboy know what Molecular Biology is?

Captain Pike doesn't return from the bar for three hours.

It all starts to add up when he shows up at the shuttle. Either Pike was one hell of a crafty bastard or Jim Kirk could charm the metaphorical pants off of anyone.

Not that Carol's complaining.

Quite the opposite, in fact, considering how unnecessarily dramatic his entrance is.

Within seconds, Farmboy cockily snarks off to Pike, saunters into the shuttle with plenty of attitude and self-confidence to go around, winks at Uhura, shoots a one liner at Finnegan, promptly walks straight into a low bar, takes a seat next to the only other person on the damn shuttle as dramatic as him, and then proceeds to carry a conversation the entire way to the Academy about deadly space diseases.

Yeah, Carol thinks, I could get used to this.

No one is safe from the Jim Kirk Effect. Seriously no one.

"Come on, Bones! Let's see if we can fix up joint accommodations together." Kirk waggles his eyebrows suggestively as he threw an arm over the drunk doctor's shoulder.

"These are going to be a long four years," Uhura says, staring after them with Carol.

"If Kirk has anything to say about it, you'll only have to put up with him for three."

Uhura's eyes widen way too dramatically. "Wait…Kirk?"

Well. No wonder Pike had spent so long talking with him.

Kirk. James Tiberius Kirk. The Kelvin Baby.

Carol berates herself for not making the connection immediately. James Kirk, son of late Acting-Captain George Kirk of the U.S.S. Kelvin, and Winona Kirk, Chief Engineer on the Yorktown. She had been flirting with the offspring of two of Starfleet's most influential officers and she hadn't even known it.

She felt sudden sympathy for cadets who unknowingly flirted with her.

"Carol! You're back!" Christine Chapel happily wraps her arms around Carol in a tight hug. "How'd the survival sim go?"

Carol drops her duffle bag onto her bed. "I passed. Fortunately. I hate extreme camping."

Chris snorts. "What, they don't go camping in London?"

"I don't go camping," Carol replies. "There's bugs and dirt and it's too hot and if you don't die from boredom, nature will get you." She unzips her uniform and flings it onto a chair. "The trip back was interesting though."

"Oh?" Chris picks up her uniform and drops it into a hamper.

"Yeah, guess who Captain Pike recruited in a backwater bar in the middle of nowhere."

Christine whistles. "That's…"

"Tell me about it."

"And to think, if it weren't for you flirting with him, he'd have never joined up. You've changed his life forever."

Carol rolls her eyes. "Uh huh. Let's just hope he doesn't remember that when exams start rolling around."

"So. Is he good looking?"

"Sod off."

"That's a yes then. And he's smart too if he knew that much about geek biology. And he's interested in you."

"Chris…"

Her friend grins at her. It's truly terrifying.

"Just let me know when to give him the shovel talk."

Carol throws a boot at her.

It takes a month for things to properly settle. And for Carol to finally figure it all out.

Since it was the beginning of the year (yeah Pike decided to start the second year students off with bloody camping), it wasn't hard to integrate new students into the Academy.

Carol had two classes with Kirk and four with McCoy. McCoy she understood—he was on the medical track after all—but Kirk? Really?

Yeah sure, the guy knew a bit about Molecular Biology, but Biotechnology?

And for reasons that both annoy and confuse her, he's brilliant at it.

Their self-defense teacher makes him an assistant after their third class.

Well he did hold his own against six trained cadets in a bar fight while drunk.

She swears he's hungover every time he shows up for history. In the rare case that he does show up. And yet he manages to pass every exam.

"Carol Marcus, right?" a familiar voice says behind her, after History Class, a month later.

She turns around in her chair and comes face to face with a pair of stunning blue eyes. "Farmboy," she says, with a smirk.

"Never denied it sweetheart." He grins at her. There's a stylus behind his ear, the collar of his uniform is unbuttoned, and his feet are propped up on his desk.

It's a slightly dorky, if not endearing image.

Carol smiles. "So what's a loser like you doing in a place like this?"

"I was properly inspired."

"By a gorgeous blonde with big dreams?"

"Try a jerk captain who can't take no for an answer." Kirk looks vaguely annoyed now.

"Tell me about it," McCoy mutters from the sidelines. For as much as he complains about Kirk, it's only been a month and the two are joined at the hip.

McCoy whacks Kirk's feet until he grudgingly takes them off the desk. "So where are you off to?" he asks, dumping his textbooks into his bag.

"Exobiology."

"What a coincidence," McCoy huffs grumpily. "So am I." He jerks his head towards the door. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, kid," he adds to Kirk as he stomps off.

Carol blinks after him.

"Isn't he a great guy?" Kirk asks, absentmindedly. "So about that conversation we never finished—"

"I don't' hook up with other cadets," Carol interrupts.

Kirk looks wounded. "I wasn't suggesting a hook up! I mean I wouldn't mind—never mind. Anyway." He runs a hand through his blonde hair, messing it up. "You never told me why you're taking Weapons Tech when you're so obviously geared towards biological Sciences."

Carol blinks at him. "And this is important to you because…?"

He flashes a smile. It's both charming and fake. "Because we're friends?"

"Come to class without a hangover sometime and I'll think about it."

"My Father is Alexander Marcus," she says, dropping her tray at his table three days later.

Kirk blinks up at her, nonplused. "Wait, you mean Admiral Marcus? As in—"

"The 'Fleet Admiral? Yeah." She sits across from him. "That's why those guys picked at you at the bar. They were trying to get my attention."

"Oh." He stares down at his food for a moment and then back up at her. "So…?"

"So Molecular Biology is awesome, but my Dad is into the technical part of Starfleet. He's been funding the development of upgraded Constellation Starships and weaponry for the past decade. I have certain…talents and abilities in those fields." She steadily stares at him across the table. "I just want to make him proud."

Jim nods slowly. "I can get behind that."

"You have a minor in engineering," she states.

His eyes met hers knowingly. "Yes."

"Your mom is Chief Engineer of the Yorktown."

A soft smile graces his lips for a moment. "I wasn't hungover yesterday," he says.

"No, you weren't. Carol," she holds out her hand.

He takes it. "Jim."

The Jim Kirk Effect works even on her.

"So if I'm gonna hang out in public with you, we have to make a few rules. First of all, we've got to do something about your study habits."

"But—"

"No drinking unless it's a weekend and you have McCoy or me with you."

"When did you become my mom?"

"And definitely no hooking up with other cadets! It's like you're trying to get a bad reputation."

"What is happening?"

(There's something to be said for the Carol Marcus EffectTM too.)