WARNING: This is purely written for the 2009 Star Trek Movie, and I was under the influence of coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. And possibly three hours of sleep.

I have no clue where I found this, and I think I didn't portray Bones to the best of my ability, but I had a hell of a good time writing this.

Basic Plot: It's the second year into their voyage, drifting across the universe in search of yet-to-be-found planets or people, and Jim decides to announce that every second Friday of the month will officially be "Casual Friday". A week prior, Jim suddenly noticed Spock is abnormally distant, not even standing to greet him when he arrives for alpha shift anymore. Our crafty captain devises a plan to get his first officer to notice him again, but is there a hidden agenda that the rest of the crew can't see....?

Anyways, I'll leave you to read, and I hope you enjoy.

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James T. Kirk rubbed his hand together, grinning almost manically at the mirror image before him.

Clapping sharply, he jammed his feet into a pair of low black heels and while humming a tune, skipped his way out of his quarters almost crashing into a certain ship doctor in the process.

Bones gave Jim a double take, jaw slightly slack as he gave the captain a once over. "J-jim, is that a…" Jim twirled his hands in a gesture for the man to elaborate, or at least finish his sentence. Licking his lips and still slightly dumbfounded, Bones blinked rapidly, as if the image would waver if he did enough times.

"W-well, Jim, is that a… Well, is that a dress you're wearing?"

Jim's manic smile hadn't left his face the whole time, especially as he clapped his friend on the shoulders and replied, "Why yes, Bonesy! Yes I am. Now, if you'll excuse me on this lovely Official Casual Friday, I have a bridge to man!"

Bones reached out to catch the slightly insane man, "Jim! Wait- what the hell are you thinking, man?!" The blond danced just out of reach, and Bones could have sworn he was giggling as he waved haphazardly, making an escape from the CMO's grip while the crew members who had been so unfortunate to be on that particular deck stared at their captain in anything from amusement to horror.

One of his outstretched hands went to his face; sliding from his eyes to over his mouth with a harsh pressure to make sure what had happened wasn't just a Whiskey-induced dream. "By God, he's finally cracked."

•

•

Jim waved to each and every crew member he passed, greeting them by name occasionally, and even stopping to curtsy before some of the more visually pleasing ensigns just to see them giggle.

Maniacal grin stowed upon reaching the large hydraulic door to the bridge, he cleared his throat, licked his lips, crossed his hands at the small of his back and stated clearly, "Captain on the Bridge". The doors slide open with the sound of sweet, sweet, streamline silence, and he clicked his way in before flouncing to his chair in a show of swishing light spring green material.

Sulu stared, Chekov's eyebrows reached up into his hairline, Uhura's eyes broadcast the notion of his failing sanity, and the two other ensign that helped man the bridge took one look at him and refused to turn around. Jim smiled at their shaking shoulders.

"Good Morning Gentlemen, Ladies. May I inquire to Her Lady Enterprises' status at this lovely hour?" Sulu was the first to answer, swiveling his chair to have a full view up the upper deck, much to Jim's dismay. He had been hoping to catch the helmsman off guard. "Status unchanged, Captain," Jim felt giddy amusement well up in his stomach as Sulu's lips twitched into a grin as he finished his sentence. "Everything is as lovely as the dress you're wearing."

The two ensigns snickered in their stations, one covering her mouth with her hand to keep the noise in and the other keeping her mouth shut by other means, possibly biting her lips.

Jim gasped femininely, holding a hand over his heart. "Why, Helmsman Sulu, I dare say you just hit on me!" Sulu, who had returned to a front-wards position, snorted in an attempt to quell his own bubbling laughter. Pressing his fingers to a few windows in the display before him, he shook his head and toned innocently, "Oh, of course not, Captain Jamie."

Jim's manic grin threatened to come back full force, and he pushed it back as he looked at Chekov, chomping down on the inside of his cheek as the 17 year old prodigy stared up at him with wide eyes. Swallowing back the urge to laugh, "Chekov-" he coughed as his voice cracked halfway through and tried again, "Chekov, my good man, anything to report?"

Blinking out of his stupor, the young Russian shook his head sharply, turned around and read his own panel quickly before responding the negative. "Niet changes, Kepton. Besides your gender, apparently." Sulu snorted again, this time ducking down low, and pretending the cause of it was an itch in his ear.

"Just dandy on that front then! Tell me, lovely Lieutenant Uhura, anything on the linguistic feed?" Uhura gave him a look that told him she thought he was utterly absurd, and replied, "Negative. All channels are clear. Sir." Puffing his cheeks out childishly at the woman's lack of response, Jim rested his chin on a hand held up by his arm rest and peered around the bridge.

His blue eyes rested on Spock, who had yet to even acknowledge his presence, and let his eyes wander the ceiling of the vast room in thought. Clearing his throat rather noisily, he got up and flounced to Spock's side, leaning over the Vulcan's shoulder nosily. A popping sound resounded in the room, followed by a couple coughing laughs and the sound of skin on uniform.

Light green material wiggles, swishing against his legs, and a few more escaped laughs were heard, making the Captain grin. Spock hummed to himself, in his own world, one hand under his chin with one of his long pale skinned fingers resting over his lips. Jim's smile faded as he failed to elicit even a minor turn of the head or annoyed eye flicker from his first officer.

He leans in closer and whispers directly into Spock's ear, "Anything to report to your Captain?"

Spock merely hums again, running his middle finger over his lower lip before answering, "Nothing that I should deem appealing to someone of your caliber, Sir."

•

Momentarily shut down, Jim sulked silently behind Spock's chair before another idea sparked. "Well then, anything you think I would find interesting on there?" Spock was immovable as he replied with another negative sentence, not once removing his gave from the rapidly streaming data.

Shut down, Jim sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his blue bodice in slight annoyance.

Chekov chose that moment to turn his seat, "You know Kepton, that color, it goes wery well with your eyes."

•

The grin was back. Sulu coughed, having swallowed the wrong way, Uhura wished she was on a vessel sans the mental-hospital worthy captain, but Spock didn't move.

Past the ideal thought of getting Spock to react with normal tactics, Jim huffed and snapped his fingers. "All right, here we go! On this wonderfully Official Casual Friday I would like to see who in the bridge has taken advantage of this and wore normal clothing." He announced to the room.

Upon his skipping and giggling way across the deck, he had encountered many crew and ensign who had dressed down for the day, and could honestly see from his seat that only Sulu and Chekov had taken him seriously but wanted to make a deal out of it anyways.

Sulu raised one hand, while he used his left to manipulate the controls before him, and Chekov lept up to display the silly shirt he wore depicting a dog sitting at a bar with a curiously labeled bottle and shot glass, and his green-grey-red plaid pants with attached suspenders that currently hung behind him, not in use.

"My older brother sent me this shirt for my fifteenth birthday, to commemorate my acceptance into the uniwersity!" Jim nodded in acceptance, "Fair enough young prodigy. Sulu, I can see a pair of rather attractive guns over there."

Chekov missed his chair, falling two feet onto the harsh metal flooring. Sulu lent him a hand in getting back to his seat, keeping the side of his mouth firmly between his teeth to keep from laughing. The grey shirt he wore was old, depicting a pair of vintage arms crossed on the back, but his laughter was caused by the fact that the sleeves of the shirt had been torn off long ago.

Sulu got up, humoring Jim by standing where he was viewable and turning in a circle when the blond motioned for him to show off the rest of his outfit, which consisted of a pair of old skinny jeans he had dug well into the back of his closet to find. They were well worn, his favourite pair of pants actually, with the left knee torn into rags and cuts and threadbare patches all over the right thigh. Jim whistled, "Sulu my dear helmsman, we must order you a smaller uniform, honestly, those pants do you no justice."

•

Uhura finally laughed, making everyone stop. The dark skinned woman had a hand clamped over her mouth, brown eyes wide in horror. Jim wiggled his eyebrows lewdly, and not missing a beat, said "As we can see, Communications Officer Uhura has voiced her agreement. So then, " clapping and rubbing his hands together, "we'll fabricate you a better pair of pants tomorrow to show off you rather appealing a-"

•

Spock had emitted a rather interesting sound at this point, something akin to a sparking crackle, making Jim look to the side where his station was located. "Ah, First Officer Spock, I see you have neglected to dress down for the day." His tone was patronizing, but the element of humor was not lost at all from his eyes or face.

•

Spock blinked, an action not looked over by the rest of the crew, who promptly turned back to their work. "May I inquire as to the change in your uniform, Captain?"

•

The question was finally spoken after a few moments passed, each time Jim's grin slowly grew bigger and bigger. "Well, I'm incredibly pleased that you asked, Spocky!" It was Sulu's turn to fall out of his chair, twitching on the floor like Scott after one too many whiskeys and someone just yelled haggis while Chekov peered down at him, slightly uncertain if his friend was all right or not.

•

Flamboyantly and undisturbed, Jim plowed on. "You see, once upon a time, during my childhood days when my friends and I engaged in frivolous drinking truth or dare games," At this point he had gotten up and was flouncing about ridiculously, talking with his hands and at one point looking down at Sulu with a wicked smile, "I was dared to put on a dress, and sell bananas, door to door."

Gesturing down to the ensemble he was currently garbed in, he finished with flair "And as you can see, I kept said dress and decided to wear it to christen the first ever Casual Friday upon the Grand Lady Enterprise."

•
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All was silent in the bridge when he finished speaking, until Sulu burst out laughing, tears streaming down his face where he had fallen between his and Chekov's seat. Uhura allowed herself a few snickers as she switched channels to search, and the others remained silent to watch Spock's reaction to their Captain's absurd brand of logic.

Spock swallowed harshly, and grabbing Jim by the upper arm, he stalked his way to the doors leading to the outside deck. "Mister Chekov, you have the conn." He toned shortly and abruptly, ears tinting green as the room behind him abruptly burst into laughter once the hydraulics slid the metal slats shut.

•

"Now, now, Mister Spock, there's no reason to manhandle me." Jim said joyfully as Spock pulled him along to the medbay. "I am not handling you in any sort of violent manner, Captain. I am merely bringing you to the Medical Ward for a psychiatric evaluation." "Jim." Spock halted the elevator for a moment, looking at the blond male for a moment, "Pardon me, your absurdity has caused me to have difficulty hearing."

Jim reached over and paused the elevator again when Spock restarted it after his sentence. "I said, call me Jim. We've been on this universe forsaken ship for almost two years now and you still refer to me as Captain or Sir." He winked easily at the Vulcan, "c'mon, Spocky, loosen up a little."

Spock stiffly restarted the elevator, "I will have to decline, as it would be inappropriate to call you anything but Captain, sir. As your First as well as Science Officer, it will be disrespectful to call you otherwise."

Jim reached over, punched the button again, and held up a finger, much to Spock's growing annoyance. "Ah, but to counter your logic Spock, it would also be disrespectful to completely show a disregard for the fact that I am asking you to refer to me by my given name."

The taller man deftly flicked the square again, not responding until Jim curled around his torso and made a reach for it. He caught the captain's wrist in a firm grip, transferring both wrists to one long-fingered and pale hand, and holding the now free one up threateningly.

"Aaht! What did I say about the Nerve Pinchy-thing being used against the captain without good reason?!" The blond cried, trying his best to crane his upper body out of the taller man's reach. One of the Vulcan's eyebrows rose deftly, "I believe your irregularly erratic behavior to be a valid reason, if questioned. James."

Jim paused for a minute, before wiggling his hands fruitlessly in Spock's grip and pursing his lips in thought. "Fair enough Spocky-kins. I stop struggling and slowing the decent of the elevator, you call me James for the rest of our hopefully long career, and alls well that ends well. Innadress!"

The science officer, had he not been for open displays of emotion, would have borrowed the human expression of rolling his eyes by now. Spock hauled the bedressed man through the medbay doors, and all at once Bones stopped doing inventory to assess the seemingly mental captain.

"Good work Spock, I've been worried about this nutcase all day! Jim, were you drinking into the early morning with Scott again?!" Jim laughed. "Oh, come on Bonesy! It's the first Official Casual Friday, a man's not allowed to wear a dress?" He caught the look on the good doctor's face and rolled his eyes, adding "No, I wasn't drinking. I'm perfectly healthy, and I know if I claimed to be perfectly sane you'd just point at the hemline on this thing."

•

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All was silent in the room, and Jim sucked on his incisors and added as an afterthought, "I probably shouldn't have phrased it like that." His only response was the tricorder being pulled out and swept up and down his body.

Twenty minutes later, Jim waved happily with Spock at his side, while Bones watched the duo leave the medbay with a tired face. Just as the basket case of a captain had said, all read outs had been clean, impeccable almost, save for an increase in adrenaline.

"Stupid adrenaline junkie's gunna be the death of me…" He grumbled, twirling a hypo between his fingers.

•

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Jim practically pranced by Spock's side, much to the Vulcan's internal horror- or whatever Vulcan equivalent to horror there might have been- Dr. McCoy had sent them out with negative results and an order to, and I quote, "Put his uniform, or at least some goddamn MALE clothes on."

Jim had been all too happy to oblige, going so far as to ask if he would be willing to switch clothing with him, as the doctor's quarters were much closer than his own. Which happened to be up the elevator once again, back across the bridge deck, and past a few midshipmen who monitored the status of who knows what and reported to Scott below deck.

The captain's eyes darted to the side, looking at Spock every second as they walked to the elevator, before Jim suddenly made a break for it. He wiggles his fingers at his First Officer, wearing a shit eating grin as the man realizes he won't be going to his quarters to change just yet. Spock all but rushes, as Vulcans do not rush down hallways frantically after their captain who is wearing a dress of all things and refuses to be serious, to the panel beside the elevator and tries to redirect it or shut it off.

The distinct sound of splintering wood emanated from his lips, in a display of quite uncharacteristic annoyance as Spock curses in Vulcan. The panel is not lit up and refuses to respond, telling him his crafty captain made use of his override codes and electrical prowess.

"Computer, location of Captain Kirk."

•

The black haired man waits an abnormally long time, before repeating his request. The computer takes five more tries, each time testing Spock's patience until it beeps and responds, "Vocal registry to deny all requests to do with the name Captain Kirk by Commander Spock."

He all but seethes as his seventh try, grinding out "James.", works and the computer reports his position on the engineering deck.

•

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Meanwhile, Jim is strutting back and forth, showing off his choice of clothing for his Chief Engineer who is doubled over in laughter. "So Scotty, wha'dya think? Classy, no?"

The coverall clad man wipes tears from his eyes, all but falling over as he leans heavily against a knot of tubing beside him. "I cannae tell ya' how ridiculous ya' look cappin, but I can say ya' make one pretty laydeh."

Jim takes a few bows, grinning like a maniac as a few whistles come forth from the action. "Really though Scotty, I'm disappointed! You didn't take this opportunity to dress down?" Scott scratched at his nose, "Ey 'ave to apologize, cappin. But seein' as I was stranded on that forsaken planet fer a while, I dinnae really have any normal clothing. Besides parkas and whatnot."

Jim popped his lips and pointed at nothing in particular, "Good point, that place was really f-" A hand clamped down on his shoulder, three fingers itching to land in just the right spot, but desisting. "Eh-Hey, Spockums! Ya' found me!"

•

"Spockums?" Scott toned curiously, before paying complete attention and realizing the First Officer's intent gaze was centered on him at the moment. His legs snapped together and his hand to his forehead in a hasty salute. "F-Fistr- First Officer Spock!" He stuttered.

Spock nodded to the man tensely, "At ease, Mister Scott. I am merely here to… Retrieve the ships' Captain."

•

Jim cleared his throat loudly, as if to make a point. Spock made a point to ignore him.

•

Scott stared at the two as Spock drug the blond back to the elevator, struck dumb at the duo before scrambling to his post once the distinct sound of an alarm breached his mind.

Jim pouted the whole way up to the bridge and down the hallway, as Spock had once again cuffed his wrists in a firm grip and all but threw him over his shoulders to keep him from straying as they walked down the halls.

"C'mon, Spock, gain a sense of humor! I wanted to show Scotty before you rip-" "I advise you to desist in any comments that might be detrimental to your or my reputation aboard this vessel. James."

Jim grinned maniacally as they passed the last ensign and entered the hallway that housed Spock, Jim, and the night crews' quarters. Everything was sound proof, but Spock kept him from saying anything until they were safely in the spacious Captain's quarters.

"Awwwe, you do care enough to call me James!" Spock took a stance by the doors, rattling off the safety lock code, including specifics to over ride the blonds voice coding. Jim pouted in his dress, "That's not very nice!"

Taking a moment to think, his eyes wandered up and to the left before centering back on the taller man. "Besides, what'd you just say about doing things that might detrimental to our reputations? Suuure, dragging your Captain to his room while he's wearing a dress and then making it so no one but you can open the door is TOTALLY innocent."

•

A faint spring blush coasted smoothly over Spock's nose, and he cursed the way the man had seemed to turn him more human than ever with his annoying perverted ways.

"I assure you, Captain, that all will see this as nothing more than my keeping you in line. Now, if you will engage in a standard-issue Starfleet uniform, we may begin our day."

Jim wiggled his eyebrows lewdly, "Do you want me to let you put me in line, and then change, or do you want me to change and then put me in line?"

His stone façade didn't waver, "Your innuendos are prolonging our inability to return to the bridge."

•

Snickering to himself and deciding that it was best to comply, or at least change into some of his normal street clothes, he turned and reached backwards.

Spock watched with a sort of fascination, as Jim reached back and up, deftly twisting his hand and catching the zipper of the dress he wore with two fingers. That kind of flexibility was intriguing to the Vulcan, as the zipper was located at an inch below the base of Jim's neck, and a normal human would not have been able to achieve such a feat.

The soft sound of pooling material snapped him out of the sudden trance, but almost instantly he was swept up in another as Jim flexed his arms and back, moaning quietly. "Nothin' breathes quite like a dress, but they sure as Bones always having a hypospray on hand constrict."

•

The ripple of tanned skin drew him in, and Spock watched in curiosity as a muscle twitched from the slightest movement of the Captain, especially as he leaned down to the drawers beneath his bed to select to items of cloth.

First were a pair of pants quite unlike their uniform, clothing he had heard about while he taught at Starfleet, called Jeans. The particular pair his captain had acquired were tarnished and splattered with white spots and threadbare patches, as well as too large for his waist, but hung low on his hips. The green on his cheeks turned to a more noticeable shade as he felt his mind slip farther away when Jim turned around.

The delicate curve of his hip bones disappeared into his briefs first, briefs that Spock noted mentally, were not Starfleet standard issue, although the Vulcan momentarily forgot if that really mattered or not.

•

The captain's torso was, as Spock decided to note, adequately proportioned to a man who could lift such and such an amount of weight, and found his logic drifting away as his eyes trailed downwards once again to a fine trail of golden hairs that also disappeared beneath the waistband of those non-standard issue briefs.

Said golden hairs danced as Jim chuckled when he noticed his First Officer's attention, especially when he slipped on his worn red shirt, and the man made a sound not unlike a quiet mew.

•

"Enjoy the show, Sp-ock?" He asked softly, popping the p and k of the Vulcan's name.

His lazy saunter landed him before the other man, face to face. Spock refused to be stared down, especially as he realized his captain's advances in the form of his bright eyes darting from his lips to his own brown depths.

A shuddering breath he hadn't known he was keeping brought back the logic, and thought process. "I believe it is time to man our stations now, Capt-" Jim laid a finger across the Commander's lips, effectively silencing him as an electric current ran between the sudden skin contact.

•

"What do you say we take a few more hours, and uh…" Spock was silenced by the contact, unable to even mutter his standard "Vulcans do not condone skin to skin contact." as Jim spoke. The blond man smiled discreetly, clearly knowing his effect on the Half-Vulcan. "…Make up a story about how I managed to evade your attempts to make me change."

Spock realized in horror, silent Vulcan-like horror of course, that his left hand had drifted to the other man's hip, acting on the human want to touch the smooth skin of those hips he had only briefly seen. Jim had noticed as well, and Spock swallowed harshly as their hands touched, and Jim pulled his hand flat against his tan skin.

•

"Hmm, Spock?"

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One-shot written for myself, my soul-sisters `Via and Allums, Ironically Yours and Dreamer of Neverland , respectively, and the awesome fandom of Spock and Kirk.

Constructive Criticism appreciated, and you don't have to review if you don't want to. I just enjoy my little hits counter going up. =D

I might continue this with just a little side-chapter add-on, with a peek back at the bridge to everyone wondering what happened to the Captain and Commander…

But then again, I might just let all of you wonder and stew up your own conclusions.

M.Y. Ame out!