That took a little longer than expected. That pesky "real life" got in the way.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. We finally have some extended conversation between Kirk and Spock and get going on our first real mission. =)

Once again, I appreciate every review I've gotten so far. 60 reviews! Wow, thank you!

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After Uhura left, he didn't think he could sleep again. It just wasn't in him to go back to sleep after becoming fully awake already. Not being used to getting up quite so early, Jim took his time getting ready for work. He even brushed his hair and put cream in his coffee, things that seemed superfluous when you had only ten minutes to get ready for a shift on the bridge.

Coffee with cream in it was really quite delicious, he decided. In a wholly good mood, he danced through the hallways, bursting in on Gamma shift an entire forty-five minutes early. Surprised, Lieutenant Patterson stood from the chair, saluting him. "Good morning!" Jim beamed to everyone. The tired faces seemed to perk up a little at his enthusiasm, "I hope you all had a good night!"

"Yes, sir," said Patterson, practically beaming. Jim liked Patterson, knew him from his flight training. He was a kindly looking man, with a soft round face and dark hair. He probably wasn't ever going to command a ship, but he made for a fine Gamma-shift lieutenant.

"Good job, Lieutenant," he told him sincerely, and made a round of the bridge, trying to keep the skip in his step to a minimum. Why he was in such a mood was a mystery really. Something about having some time to get ready for the day, perhaps? Or it could have been that delicious coffee. Or perhaps it was just one of those inexplicable good moods he was sometimes prone to. Any way it happened, he reasoned, it was a good thing.

As such, he cheerfully greeted Spock when he stepped onto the bridge at 0732, a full twenty-eight minutes early for his shift. Spock didn't look surprised to see Jim there, as his facial expression didn't change at all, but Jim knew he was. It was confirmed a second later when Spock opened his mouth to respond to the "Good morning, Mr Spock!" which had been gleefully thrown at him upon entrance.

"Captain, you are unusually early to your shift," he said, and Jim was considering renaming him 'Captain Obvious,' because Spock's observations were usually just statements that even a blind person could see. He didn't suggest the name though, both because it would make Spock bitchier than normal, and also because Jim was the Captain, not Spock.

"Yup," he answered instead, not planning on revealing that it was Uhura who woke him up this morning, "So are you!"

"I am always the first of Alpha shift to arrive," as if it were obvious, "As First Officer, I have additional duties to perform, quite apart from my Bridge work. As such, I usually attend to my shift on the Bridge earlier than most crew members," including you, was implicit in his tone, "in order to facilitate the completion of these duties."

"Okay," said Jim, not willing to let the snarky tone in Spock's voice ruin his good mood, "Just remember, if you find you have too much work on your hands, you can always delegate."

It appeared he had touched a nerve, because Spock almost snapped, "I am effective enough to competently complete all my duties."

Oho, it appears his dear half-Vulcan was pissy, despite his suggestion to Uhura. "I'm not saying it as a slight against you, Mr Spock, merely reminding you that the distribution of work load needs to be correct in order for the ship to operate at maximum efficiency. That's what these officers are trained for, and it would be illogical for you to take on a workload greater than necessary when their schedule is not filled. Understand me?" He frowned at Spock's stubbornly blank expression.

"Yes, sir," Spock said, and the guy really needed some work on keeping a neutral tone of voice if he wanted that to be as expressionless as his face. With short, efficient, clearly pissy movements, Spock moved to his chair, the ensign sitting in it previously quickly vacating the spot. With a brief "Commander," she was gone, and Jim really couldn't blame her. Spock was scary. He'd be afraid of the man if he were his superior officer too. Wait. No. He'd already been Jim's superior officer and he hadn't been scared.

Scratch that.

If he was being honest with himself, a Spock-in-charge was a scary Spock. It's just that Jim Kirk got a kick out of scary things.

With a smirk, he sank into his chair, exchanging pleasantries with Lieutenant Patterson, who cheerfully described the magnetic readings they'd gotten off a comet during the night shift. He acted entirely as if that little exchange with Spock hadn't happened, for which Jim was very thankful. Eventually, he left, and the other Alpha crew came trickling in. Chekov was the next to arrive, shooting the Captain a nervous smile and hurrying past Spock as if he might turn around and bite him if he lingered near his station too long.

Uhura showed up next, pointedly avoiding looking at either Jim or Spock. Shortly thereafter, there was an influx of officers as everyone obviously headed up from the mess together. Jim mentally ran through the duty roster for the day. Sulu, Scotty and Bones were all on Beta shift today, though the latter would probably be in the sickbay by noon, due to being an excessive workaholic. No matter how he pressed and wheedled and tried, Bones was going to continue showing up to work four hours early and leaving six hours late. Perhaps Bones and Spock would make good friends, Jim mused as he read the files on Yanar again.

Perhaps not.

Bored, he found himself running through all the people Spock could be friends with. Scotty and Chekov were both certainly smart enough to keep up with Spock, but the former was too scatterbrained and flash-of-genius to appeal to Spock, and Chekov was probably too young and nervous. Spock wouldn't put up with nervous smiles and faint stutters for long.

The Vulcan would probably get along well with Sulu, he mused. Sulu was mature enough and was a genius about things he was interested in. Though perhaps their shared interests wouldn't be wide enough to facilitate prolonged interest in one another.

Try as he might, he couldn't think of anyone else (besides the obvious Uhura, and the supposedly imminent option of himself) whom Spock might like, and he huffed and resigned himself to dealing with a cranky Spock. Anyway, time to stop contemplating his First Officer's possible personal relationships and actually get back to work.

Amazingly, he got not a single call of complaint from the Ambassador today, though he did get one from Bones right after the lunch break. About the Ambassador. But Bones was always complaining about something, so that didn't mean much. Plus it was lots of fun teasing him. It made the fact that the Ambassador had apparently gone to Bones, complaining that there was going to be something wrong with his stomach due to 'the trash he was being forced to eat on this ship,' very hilarious indeed.

Having Bones relate the story to him in an extremely agitated voice was funny, and Chekov and Lieutenant-Commander Webb -- who were sitting in front of him -- seemed to agree, chuckling along with him. On the contrary, the people behind him -- namely Spock and Uhura -- seemed to think it was decidedly un-funny, and proceeded to glare at the back of his head for about a thousand years. Perhaps he was exaggerating. Maybe it was more like three seconds, and more like a quick disapproving glance.

"And then, when I told him to get the hell out of my sickbay, he starts telling me to watch my mouth! I told him to watch his, or I'd sew it shut! He didn't seem to like that," no, Jim imagined he wouldn't, "so he starts yelling at me about my position, and how I'm goin' to lose it, and going on and on about how he'd report me, so I told him to go and fuck himself and that if he did it wrong, I wasn't gonna fix him up afterwards."

Bones had to stop the recounting of the story there for a little while, because Jim was laughing too hard to hear it.

"He left after that, and then his assistant had the nerve to call my office and leave a message, saying that I could expect a court martial in the near future," Jim nearly started laughing again, but managed to hold it in, "I mean! Come on! Are you kiddin' me? A Court Marshall? Who the fuck does this guy think he is?"

"I dunno who he thinks he is, but I know who he thinks we are."

"He thinks the Enterprise is his bitch," spat Bones into the comm., "I'm not putting up with it, Jim."

"Of course not," said Jim reassuringly.

There was a pause, in which Jim could hear faint voices and then Bones yelling something, "Gotta run. One of Scott's poor ensigns has sliced into their hand rather than into a wire. I swear to fucking Christ, this happens at least one a day. It's ridiculous." And then the communication cut out, and Jim was left with his fantastic mood renewed. Should have known all it'd take to keep a great mood going was a bit of Bones agitation.

Ahh, good for the soul, it was.

//

Sadly, he ran into Ambassador Grace in the hallway again directly after shift, but he had Spock right next to him and a fist full of happiness and he wasn't going to let it bother him, "Good afternoon, Ambassador!" he chirped, and watched the suspicious look settle over the man's face.

"Captain," he greeted in return.

"I trust everything is going swimmingly," he said, not phrasing it as a question.

The Ambassador frowned slightly and his eyes made a quick diversion to Spock, "Well, actually, there was the matter of an altercation I had with the doctor earlier today."

"Oh yes, yes, I heard about that. Proper action will be taken, of course," Grace didn't look sure, and Jim couldn't blame him. The huge smile plastered on his face was probably enough to make anyone suspicious. "Don't worry, Ambassador! You're in good hands here aboard the Enterprise!"

And then he swept on his way, leaving the dumbfounded man in his wake.

When they reached the mess, he and Spock didn't split up, purely for convenience sake, due to the fact that they both had to line up for the replicators and because they were discussing ship's business anyway. When discussing neutral topics, they got along pretty well. Spock would deny it, but he tended to get rather short with people not intelligent enough to keep up with him, but Jim was certainly quick enough to provide sufficient comprehension. "Well, if you switch Ensign Rafferty to Engineering, that solves the problem."

"It then leaves a vacancy in tactics, for which I recommend Ensign Smith."

"I don't know him well," Jim said, picking up his tray. He glanced at Spock's tray sidelong, noting the plethora of vegetables. Vegetable soup, salad, and an apple, all washed down with a glass of water. Bones would love for him to eat that way, he thought with a smirk, looking down at his chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy. "So, Spock, what's with all the healthy stuff? You don't want even a little meat'n'potatoes?"

"Vulcans do not eat meat, Captain," Spock informed, as they sat at a table, "And potatoes have very little nutritional value."

"Oh, so you're a vegetarian. Or are you a vegan?"

"Vegetarian," specified Spock, "provided that the animal products which I eat were collected from said animals in a moral and ethical way."

"So, could you eat meat, if you had to?"

"My gastro-intestinal system does not preclude it, but there is no reason for me to eat meat while sufficient nutrition is available in the form of plant life."

"I was a vegetarian for about three weeks once," Jim smiled at the memory, "I was fifteen and dating this girl who was like, a hardcore vegetarian. Every time I'd eat meat, she'd lecture me about it, so I stopped. Then I went to my Uncle Greg's barbeque, where the menu was pretty much just meat. Took one bite, remembered how good it was, and never went vegetarian again."

"Humans are fickle," Spock said, spooning soup into his mouth.

"They are when they're bending to someone else's desires," Jim paused to tear off a hunk of bread with his teeth, "Not when it's something they want."

Spock seemed to be considering that, then, much to Jim's pleasure, he acquiesced, "Some humans have greater willpower than others, I have found."

There was a lengthy silence, "So, why do you think it's amoral for us to eat meat? Isn't that how evolution designed us? I know for humans, the first step in evolution towards becoming intelligent beings was the transition to eating meat. The increase in nutrients let our brains become bigger."

"You are not incorrect," said Spock, and Jim wondered why he had to say 'you're not wrong' rather than 'you're right', "But now that the Vulcan species has reached a sufficient level of evolution that we are able to ensure adequate nutrition without the destruction of life, we prefer to do so. In barbaric times, eating meat was the only way to be certain, but now that we can analyse foods, there is no need," he drank half his glass of water, "Furthermore, all life should be treated with respect. It does not matter that an animal might be much less intelligent than you; they are still a living being. There are likely to be beings out there in space who are as far advanced past us as we are past the chicken," he looked at the plate, "I can surmise that you do not wish to be eaten by them."

Interesting, Jim thought, swallowing a forkful of mashed potatoes, "I can respect that argument, but I have one query."

"Go ahead," Spock allowed.

"What is the argument against eating synthesized meat? This was never a live chicken; it is merely particles arranged in the same order as they would be in a piece of chicken. It is technically chicken, but it was never alive, so your argument against the destruction of life is irrelevant."

He was extraordinarily gratified to see Spock puzzling over the question. In the end, with a tilt of the head, he said, "Your argument has merit. I cannot fault you then for consuming meat created using the replicator. It is still my personal preference to continue eating only plant life."

"Fair enough," Jim smiled, feeling rather like he'd scored a point. He made a mental note to try to engage in friendly debates with Spock more often. "Anyway, so, before dinner, we were talking about Ensign Smith? Unfortunately, I don't know anything about him."

"Thankfully you appear to be aware of his gender," said Spock, and Jim snorted into his Coke, regretting it as the bubbles hit the back of his throat. Had that been a joke? Was Spock making fun of him? Well, if it was a sense of humour showing there, it was gone almost immediately, chased down by a litany of facts about the young Ensign that Spock could apparently call out of memory.

Jim approved the requests in the end and went back to his quarters with a big smile on his face.

//

He started shift one hour early the next day. They would be in orbit at Yanar at 0900, and he wanted everyone to be ready. The landing party had been decided days ago, and consisted of Kirk, Spock, Uhura, Grace and two security officers. Jim knew Grace was probably going to bitch and moan about not having his assistant with him, but they had sent the list of visitors before they knew that she even existed. It wouldn't be fair to just suddenly bring another person, and be damned if he was leaving anyone else behind so that he could bring...whatever her name was.

"Good morning everyone," he said to the briefing room, noting that Grace had actually brought along his assistant to the meeting.

"Captain," responded Spock with a nod. Uhura followed suit.

He settled into his chair at the head of the oblong table and interlaced his fingers, pressing them down on the table. Spock, who had been looking at him, quickly averted his eyes. He didn't have time to ponder that, so he gestured to Grace, "Ambassador, I believe you had a little presentation to give us."

"Yes," said the Ambassador, and launched into a list of regulations that Jim mainly didn't listen to. He was sure that about 90% of them were about how important the Ambassador supposedly was and drifted into a very entertaining daydream about Bones' fight with him. Eventually Grace finished and Jim read his own notes, followed by Spock giving practically a minute-by-minute itinerary that was so long that by the end Jim couldn't remember a single thing from the list. Well, he could vaguely remember the list, but a bit of hyperbole never hurt anyone when it was kept inside your own narration of your life.

When everything was done, it was 0837 and time to head on up to the bridge to keep an eye on the Planet approach. Everyone followed him, including, to his great distaste, Ambassador Grace. But it only made sense that he'd come along too, so Jim tried not to be too mad about it.

Everything went smoothly, and Lieutenant-Commander Mariam called down and got them permission to beam down, so it was off to the transporter room. Everything had been smooth sailing thus far and Jim hoped sincerely that it would stay that way. They made their way up onto the transporter pad, Scotty smiling and waving to them, and Bones telling him in no uncertain terms not to be killed, stabbed, poisoned, burned, shot, or gotten pregnant. He might have listed some other common ailments of landing party members, but Jim had shouted "Energize!" half-way through and had disappeared in a swirl of white light.

The city to which they beamed down was already in late afternoon, and the slanting lines of the white sun stretched their shadows across the ground. Turquoise coloured grass spread out beneath them, stretching until it met walls and buildings of white stone. They all blinked for a minute in the bright light, stunned slightly by the temperature and light differences. When Jim's vision finally cleared, he noticed the welcome party, about eight people. They were walking towards him with long, graceful strides, and the Enterprise party turned to greet them.

"Good day, Captain," said the man in the front when they were close enough. He was tall and slender, perhaps seven feet in height, and covered in a fine translucent skin. Jim could see the lines of veins beneath it, pulsing red and blue, and beneath that, lines of muscle and tendons stood out clearly. It was fascinating and strange, and scared Jim. He took the man's offered hand tentatively, shaking it gently, afraid to damage him.

"Greetings, Governor," Jim said, for that must be who it was, and smiled, and the man returned the expression.

"We have been studying your manners of greeting. The handshake is quite strange to us."

Jim laughed, "I appreciate the effort," he held both his hands out in front of him, palms facing the governor. The other man returned the gesture, touching their hands together, "this is more your style, isn't it?" Jim could practically feel Spock's disapproving stare on the back of his neck. He clearly didn't appreciate the Captain's casual tone of voice.

"It is," replied the governor, finding good humour in Jim, "We, too, appreciate the effort. I am Mihu. Let me introduce my accompaniment," he waved an elegant hand to his right, where an even taller man stood, "this is Holar, he is my second-in command. This," he gestured to his left, where there was a woman who dwarfed even Spock, the tallest member of the Enterprise away team, "is Kil, she is my wife. Behind us are the First Guard. They are my protectors. Please forgive if this seems inappropriate to you at peace talks."

"Not at all," Jim smiled, gesturing to each of his crew members as he introduced them, "This is Commander Spock, my second-in-command. This is Lieutenant Uhura, our communications officer. These are our security officers, Mr. Raymond and Mr. Sharpe. And this is Ambassador Grace, sent with us from Starfleet to assist in the talks, and to make sure everything is going well and that I'm not about to start a war."

The disapproving stare feeling was suddenly doubled. Ambassador Grace was probably giving him a look now too. He didn't really care about that. He didn't like Ambassador Grace. Apparently Governor Mihu liked Jim though, because he smiled again, and bowed slightly, which apparently meant 'expressing approval' in this culture. The small-talk lasted for a little while longer, Jim commenting on the beauty of the planet, and Mihu complimenting Earth and the Federation. Eventually, Mihu gestured regally towards the building behind him, the castle rising in intricate white spirals. The uppermost levels touched the low-lying clouds, giving it a mystical air. The architecture was beautiful by any standards, the workmanship unmatched by any human construction.

"It's beautiful," Uhura said quietly, in awe of the magnificent structure.

"Our thanks," said Mihu, voice soft. Everything about these people was delicate and light. Fragile. Jim wondered briefly how they had managed to survive to become the dominant species on this planet if they were really that delicate. "We invite you in," he said, and they began walking towards the castle, "It is our intention to have you stay with us for the duration of the talks. We hope you will accept our offer of hospitality."

"We accept your offer with great thanks," cut in Ambassador Grace, shooting Jim a nasty look when the Captain glared at him for cutting in.

Jim didn't really like him.

Mihu seemed like a friendly sort of guy though. This was shaping up to be not-too-bad. With any luck, they'd be able to get their talks sorted out as soon as possible. Yanar wanted to join the Federation. The Federation wanted Yanar. It was all going to work out perfectly. Mihu was talking again, his airy voice echoing in the massive space of the main entry hall, "We will show you your rooms now, and we will allow you time to become acquainted with them. We shall reconvene for a meal in one hour, if this suits you?"

"It does," assured Jim, before Ambassador Grace could reply, looking around at the building. Above him, thousands of beams crossed each other, white stone elegantly woven together into the room that seemed to rise forever. They were led into a hallway, which had high ceilings as well, walls a kind of smooth, grey stone. At last they paused at a door, whereupon Mihu invited Kirk and Spock to go inside.

The room itself was gorgeous, made of the same light grey stone, one entire wall framed by a window, one wall taken up by an enormous bed, draped in white and grey linens, the sheets looking like the finest silk. All the remaining furniture in the room was white; the entire area seeming beyond clean, like pure light was being poured into the space.

"This is your room," said Mihu, looking pleased at Jim's impressed expression.

"Mine?" asked Jim.

"Yours," Mihu tilted his head, "And your First's, of course."

Typical. Jim sighed, "We're sharing?"

The Governor looked surprised, "You do not usually share quarters?"

"No," Jim laughed.

"Oh," Mihu exchanged a look with his own second-in-command, "I apologize for the misunderstanding. You see, in our culture, leaders and their Firsts spend all their time together. You see, as we must work as one unit, we live as one unit. If this is not your way, we shall of course find another room for your First to stay in."

Jim caught the eye of the Ambassador, who was standing just outside his door and giving him a very stern look, "No, no, this will be fine," he said in the end. Spock wasn't saying anything, so Jim assumed that meant he was okay with it too. It wasn't like they had to sleep in the same bed. There was a very comfortable looking couch in there too.

They went on to deliver Uhura to her room, the Ambassador to his, and the security officers to their shared room, before returning to their much more lavish quarters. As soon as the door was closed, Kirk could not resist. The bed was huge, wider than he was tall. So he ran at it, launching himself headfirst across. He hit the bed and immediately sunk down, the mattress soft and covered in a fluffy duvet. "Wow!" he gasped, rolling over onto his back, "This is the most comfortable bed I've ever laid on. It's kind of like lying in a cloud."

Spock was still near the door, standing still and looking at him with an ever so slight expression of surprise, "Has anyone ever informed you that you appear to have the disposition of a child?"

"They sure have!" Jim squealed, kicking off his boots onto the floor, "Come and sit on the bed, Spock! You need to experience this for yourself!"

"No thank you," said Spock, wandering to the bookcases lining one side of the room. He trailed his fingers over the spines of the paperback books, "Apparently this culture is still primitive enough to have hard copies of reading material in common circulation."

Jim didn't sit up from where he was lying amongst his bedding, "There's something to be said for reading books printed on paper. Not sure why, but it's somehow a better experience. You should try it."

"I have read a printed book before, Captain," Spock said tersely, "I fail to see how it could be considered superior to reading the same text in an electronic database. It is the same information."

"Of course it is. But the experience isn't all in what information you gather from it. There's something wonderful about the feel of crisp paper between your fingers." Jim wriggled a little, burying himself deeper in the sheets, "You gotta learn to appreciate other things in life besides the acquisition of knowledge."

"The acquisition of knowledge is a worthy pursuit," said the Vulcan, selecting a book from the shelf and removing it gracefully with long fingers.

"That it is. Doesn't mean that you can't appreciate other things in life too. It's not all about getting something done. Sometimes it's the way you do it."

"Perhaps," Spock settled on the couch and began to read. Jim rubbed his face into the pristine sheets and, entirely against his will, fell asleep.