A/N: Written especially for a pal of mine on Tumblr, the lovely thecaptainsoiree. She wondered how this scenario might play out. I cannot apologise for turning it into a Janice/Jim flirt-fest, I ship those two so hard it hurts!

Disclaimer: Star Trek: The Original Series was created by Gene Roddenberry. The man is a legend. I own nothing aside from a few DVDs and an undying adoration of the beautiful DeForest Kelley. I will be borrowing a couple of characters, ruffling them up a little and then putting them straight back. No bruises. Although Spock may have a headache.

An Illogical Fascination

She had arrived.

Yeoman Janice Rand took a deep breath and, clutching a clipboard in one hand, smoothed down the front of her dress with her free hand before setting her shoulders back as the doors to the Bridge opened. She strode towards the Captain's chair, an air of nonchalant confidence about her that had taken much more hard work and determination to perfect than anyone knew. Of course, the fresh, floral scent of her perfume told the Captain that his Yeoman had arrived before he even saw her.

"Yeoman," he began, turning around, his hazel-green eyes gleaming as he took a few moments to briefly look her over. Her lips pinched into a playful smile and she nodded her head slightly.

"Captain," she replied, handing him the clipboard. "Just a few forms that require your paw-print, if you don't mind," she told him, her voice slightly husky and breathless, as she had forgotten for the previous fifteen seconds or so that she actually required air in order to function. She cleared her throat demurely and waited for his response.

"And what exactly am I signing my life away for this time?" he teased her. She grinned.

"Starfleet have kindly offered the catering department an extra fifteen cases of good wine for the end-of-season party next month, but they need your signature to release it," she told him.

"Oh! Well, then. That's definitely something I'll have to give my immediate attention to," Jim answered, dryly. He silently read the forms before scribbling his signature and printing his name underneath. They both knew what he was doing. Pretending that he didn't want to talk to her, that he didn't even notice her, that he wasn't sneakily looking at her legs out of the corner of his eye, acting as though he were the all-important man in charge and she was fortunate to be in his presence at all. She let him think that this was indeed the case. It wouldn't do for a lowly Yeoman to correct the Captain of the ship, after all. There was probably something in Starfleet regulations that strictly forbade it.

"Will you be attending this, uh, this end-of-season party, Yeoman?" he finally inquired, adopting a disinterested tone and not looking up from the forms.

"I might," she answered, mysteriously. She saw his cheekbones rising as he smiled, but he still refused to look up.

"Will you be attending with anyone... special?" he asked. She beamed at him, safe in the knowledge he wouldn't look up at her.

"That, Captain, would depend entirely on one's definition of 'special'," she replied. At this reply, Jim did finally look up at her, the smiles disappearing from both their faces, being replaced by a genuine look of desire that was quickly overtaken by the realisation that the desire would have to remain unfulfilled.

Janice suddenly became aware of someone staring at her, and it wasn't just the Captain. She turned around and saw Mr Spock, his head tilted to one side in curiosity, staring at her. It wasn't a look of lust, and it wasn't a look of horror. It was a look of abject confusion, one she had never seen grace the Science Officer's face before.

"Mr Spock? Is everything all right, sir?" she asked gently. At first, Spock didn't hear her, he just continued looking at her curiously. "Mr Spock?" she repeated, a little more loudly this time. He blinked three times and shook his head quickly.

"Yes, Yeoman?" he replied, his usual unreadable facial expression returning to his features.

"Is everything all right, sir?" she asked, starting to worry that the Vulcan may have been taken ill. He nodded his head briskly.

"Yes, but your tone of concern is noted, thank you," he replied, turning away and pretending to busy himself with work. Janice frowned and, with a shrug of indifference, turned back to the Captain. She took two steps towards him and leaned in close to him as she gently retrieved the clipboard from his hands.

"Will that be all, Captain?" she asked, quietly, her eyebrow arching slightly and her eyes gleaming as she spoke. Jim smirked at her in reply and held her gaze for a few moments too long.

"Thank you, Yeoman. That will be all. For now," he replied in his most seductive tone. Her eyes sparkled even more brightly and she bit her lower lip as she shook her head at him. It was this look of hers that he could deal with the least. He had no idea how she managed to make him feel like an incorrigibly naughty schoolboy and the only man in the world with one facial expression. He didn't know how she did it - but he did know that he liked it.

As she sashayed out of the Bridge, she turned her head to take one last look at the Captain, whom she knew would have not given her a backward glance in return. To her surprise she saw Mr Spock, still looking at her as though she had sprouted an extra head. She could almost hear him declaring a mystified, "Fascinating!" as he looked at her, his eyebrows, every bit as pointed as his ears, now furrowed together in perplexity. She stopped for a moment and frowned back at him. He suddenly realised she was looking at him and, straightening his back in surprise, adopted a very guilty facial expression as he turned his back on her. She shrugged again and left to go about her daily duties.

When he was sure that she had gone, Spock walked towards the Captain.

"Captain," he began. Jim, who had been enjoying a brief yet utterly inappropriate daydream about himself and Yeoman Rand, looked up with a start.

"Yes, Spock?" he asked.

"Yeoman Rand," Spock said before a brief pause. He was not struggling for words, but carefully choosing the correct ones to use. "Have you noticed anything... unusual about her?" he finally asked. Jim couldn't help but smile at the Science Officer.

"I've noticed many unusual things about the Yeoman, Mr Spock, but are you referring to anything in particular?" he inquired, raising both eyebrows as he couldn't raise just one.

"It is probably inappropriate to continue this discussion on the Bridge, Captain," Spock decided, turning away from Jim and heading back to his usual station at the control panels. Jim frowned, mildly amused.

At lunchtime, Jim and Spock headed to the cafeteria with a selection of other crew members. When they arrived they saw Uhura sat with Janice, huddled together in deep discussion about something that seemed to be of vital importance.

"Do you ever wonder, Spock, what it is that women discuss so seriously like that?" Jim asked, gesturing towards the two women.

"No, Captain," Spock replied. Jim looked up at him, suddenly wondering why he had bothered to even ask the question in the first place.

"No, I don't supppose you would," he agreed. With a sigh, he collected his meal of a cup of coffee and a chicken sandwich and sat at a vacant table. He turned around to see where Spock was, and saw him stood exactly where Jim had left him - in the queue, staring dead ahead of him. "Spock?" he called out. Spock didn't answer at first. "Mr Spock!" Jim called, louder this time. Spock shook his head briskly and turned around. Realising that there was a lengthy queue behind him for food which was rapidly growing impatient for service, he quickly retrieved his meal and sat beside Jim.

"Captain," he began. "I have studied the Yeoman Rand very closely today, and I find that I am utterly perplexed by her," he told him.

"She does have that effect on some men, Mr Spock," Jim agreed with a chuckle. "I would never have believed she would... perplex you, though," he confessed. Spock shook his head.

"No, Captain, I think you mistake my meaning. Although Yeoman Rand is, to her own merit, a moderately attractive young Earth woman-"

"Moderately attractive?" Jim repeated, both eyebrows practically merging into his hairline. "Why Spock, that sounded almost poetic coming from you!"

"Please, Captain - you need to speak to the Yeoman as a matter of urgency regarding her appearance," Spock told him. Jim was genuinely taken aback by his second-in-command's words.

"There are some things not even a Captain has a right to discuss with a crew member, Spock," he pointed out. Spock looked agitated.

"But Captain - her hair is extremely distracting and it is interfering with my ability to perform my tasks," he explained.

"Her hair?!" Jim asked, dumbfounded. "I didn't know you favoured blondes!" he teased. Spock raised one eyebrow in response and Jim almost withered under the Vulcan's glare of disapproval.

"It is most illogical," Spock told him.

"How can hair be illogical?" Kirk asked, utterly baffled and not altogether convinced that he wasn't having a strange dream.

"Have you not observed it? It bears the appearance of an old straw basket, in the style that used to be weaved on old Earth several centuries ago. In order for the Yeoman to style her hair in this manner, she would need to at least have the ability to dislocate her own arms in four places," Spock told him. "In fact, the probability of her being able to complete this hairstyle with no assistance whatsoever, not taking into account the maliability of her hair or its ability to remain in place so steadfastly, is approximately seven hundred and forty two thousand, three hundred and fifty-six to one," he added.

Jim blinked several times in response, not sure if there were even words available in the deepest recesses of his vocabulary to fully describe his bewilderment at the situation in which he found himself. He looked over at Janice, who was now giggling helplessly with Uhura, her hands covering her mouth as she laughed and her eyes screwed shut with mirth. He looked back at Spock.

"Seven hundred thousand?" he asked.

"Seven hundred and forty two thousand, three hundred and fifty six. To one," Spock corrected him.

"So either Yeoman Rand is extremely flexible or she needs a lot of help to get ready in the morning, is this what you're suggesting?" Jim asked. Spock shook his head.

"No Captain, I am saying that being able to arrange this hairstyle falls so far out of the realms of human possibility that by all rights she should not be able to wear her hair in this manner at all," Spock answered, clearly very agitated by the discussion. "Is it not possible for the Yeoman to simply wear her hair down like the majority of the other female crew members?" he asked.

"Yeoman Rand's hair is entirely her own affair," Jim replied. "If she feels good wearing her hair in that manner then by all means she should - and must - continue to do so. I will have nobody being made to feel uncomfortable by their personal choices over their appearance on my ship," he told him, firmly. "Does it bother you so much?"

"Captain, her hair is so unnecessarily complicated that, were I human, I would feel an uncomfortable itching sensation all over me as I looked at it, and would likely be overwhelmed with an insatiable desire to take a comb to her hair to straighten the whole mess out," Spock answered, his eyes blazing with emotion that he could not hide, which made him feel even more frustrated with the situation. Jim couldn't help but laugh at Spock's reaction.

"It's only a hairstyle," he pointed out in a soothing voice. Spock raised his eyebrows at Jim's flippancy.

"It is more than a hairstyle, Captain, it is the coiffured version of the Riemann hypothesis!" Spock replied, sternly. Jim burst out laughing, not even caring about the glare Spock foisted upon him.

"There are many things about women that no man will ever understand. I'm afraid Yeoman Rand's hair will just have to be another addition to the list for now," he finally replied, patting Spock comfortingly on the shoulder. Spock sighed in resignation.

"Very well, Captain. If I have provided enough amusement during your repast, I should like to return to my duties," he replied, disdainfully. Jim nodded his agreement and Spock left for the Bridge.

After taking a few more moments to finish his coffee, Jim stood up and walked over to where Uhura and Janice were still deep in conversation.

"Yeoman, may I have a moment of your time?" he asked, his voice serious but his eyes still glinting gleefully from the recent memory of Spock's distress and confusion. Janice and Uhura exchanged a brief look of concern but Janice stood up obediently.

"Of course, Captain," she replied. He beckoned her towards him with his index finger and, as she stepped closer to him, he delved into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"Ten credits, wasn't it?" he asked, counting the money out. She frowned slightly as he pressed the money into her hand. "I don't know how you did it, Janice, but a bet's a bet. You have succeeded in completely and thoroughly confounding my Science Officer with that hairstyle of yours!" he declared with a giggle. She couldn't help but laugh.

"So that's why he looked at me as though I'd suddenly transformed into a Gorn!" she realised. They both laughed loudly together for a few moments before they remembered where they were and forced themselves to calm down. They both looked down and realised that Jim still had hold of Janice's hand after giving her the credits. Jim quickly released his grasp of Janice's hand and looked at her apologetically.

"That will be all, Yeoman," he told her quietly, the sparks of chemistry between the two of them so evident that the other crew members in the cafeteria couldn't help but notice. Janice was largely unaware of anyone else's presence as she looked into the Captain's eyes for as long as she dared to.

"It's a pleasure doing business with you, Captain," she replied, grinning mischievously at him.

THE END