AN: So I didn't realize how crappy it was when I first posted it, so I've improved this story. Enjoy! Oh, and I don't own Star Trek. *sigh*


On the third Monday of his first month at Star Fleet Academy, Kirk was still sleeping when a great bang awoke him. He had been dreaming, though he shouldn't have been. He had dreamed about Spock, a commander whom he hardly knew anything about, except that he had a nice ass.

It was, in fact, a commander, throwing open the door. Kirk had not even been given the time to groan before he started barking.

"Wake up! Get dressed! It's time for PT!"

That was it. The commander was already gone, on to the next unlucky cadet's room.

By this time, Leonard was standing up, although he looked about as awake as Kirk felt. Jim had done so much as turn over on his right side. Now he propped himself up on his arms. He could feel that his hair was out of place, was still asleep, just as he should have been.

"What're you doing?" asked Jim groggily.

"What you should be doing. Getting dressed."

A bewildered look crossed Jim's face. "What?"

"Damnit, Jim, didn't you hear the man? We're on the first shift for PT. Get the hell up!"

He didn't know what that meant. He didn't care what that meant. Attempting to go back to sleep, he clutched the covers and rolled over once more...right off the edge of the bed.

"...Ow."

"Jim!" Leonard exclaimed, exasperated. "Get up! I'm not your mother-I should NOT have to do this!"

Jim dug his way out of the covers, making way for him to sit up. "What is this?" he asked, dumbly.

Leonard gave him a shocked look, saying, "You really don't know?"

He shook his head.

"PT. Physical Training. We're..."

"Shit!" Jim shouted, flying up. Quickly, he glanced around. Where were his clothes? Where were his...

"Ah!" he leaped over the bed, grabbing for the shirt he'd worn last. He pulled this on, immediately running across the room to where his sweat pants lay draped over the dresser.

Then came the commander again, this time with a bullhorn: "FIVE MINUTES!"

Jim hopped as he put on his pants. Leonard already had his tennis shoes on and tied perfectly, waiting patiently with his arms crossed as Jim shoved on his shown. He fumbled with the laces, hardly having time to tie them before the commander yelled again.

"THREE MINUTES!"

"Come on, Jim, let's go!"

Jim jumped up. "Going!"

They went.


It was chilly for September. As they lined up outside with about 40 more people, Jim wished that he had had the foresight to throw on a jacket. Instead, he jumped on his toes. He turned to Leonard, who wasn't.

"You're not cold?"

Leonard glanced to his jacket and raised his eyebrows. He opened his mouth to reply, but just then-

"FALL IN!"

The response was automatic. Jim moved with the rest of the cadet body, scrambling to find a place in the ranks. He found himself near the back on the end, Leonard on his right. At this time, Jim remembered the dream he'd had the previous night, and glanced around. Where was Spock? Could he see his butt from here? A restless, sleep shocked rustle passed through the crowd. Not more than three seconds later, the commander- - the same one that woke them up- - yelled through the bullhorn.

"Flight, ATTEN-TION!"

A simultaneous snap. Jim's hands came to his sides, his feet together. He stared straight forward. A pause, as if in confusion.

The next order came in a whirl of static. "Stretch your right arm over your head!"

Everyone around him grabbed their right arms with their left, stretching it over their heads. Kirk quickly followed suit.

"Left arm!

...Right leg!

...Left leg!"

They then dropped their legs and sat down on the ground, stretching forward at staff, to the left and right in a forward wide angle bend. Then they stood up, back at attention.

Another commander took over at this point. His voice was kinder, less gruff, than the previous man's.

"Alright," he said, "I want two single file lines. Fall in and follow me."

A mutual relief washed over everyone, who conformed into two lines of twenty. They followed the kind commander to the entrance of the dorm room building. Then, in some unspoken agreement, dispelled horizontally across the street. Jim ran a hand through his hair and look around- - he would have asked, but already knew- - they were about to run.

From the corner of his eye, Jim caught sight of a pointed ear. Finally, he thought. It was commander Spock, his hair, even from here, looking immaculate as always. Suddenly, Jim was filled with resentment. Spock had it all- - he was super smart, had a nice ass, and was in the position of leadership.

Well, Jim thought, I bet he can't run fast.

The kind commander's voice again: "Ready...Set...Go!"

And they were off. Jim ran as fast as he could, the people behind him propelling him forward. He broke free of that wall, in front of everyone. Yes! he thought, I'm awesome at this!

He ran like this for another ten yards before his legs and lungs began burning. And then he realized that he wasn't even half way around the building. OH GOD, he thought, THEY EXPECT US TO RUN THIS ENTIRE THING?!

He huffed. He puffed. He swallowed, and his mouth became unbearably dry. He slowed way down, eventually just stopping altogether, putting his hands on his knees and fighting the oxygen coming into his lungs. He swallowed again, but the back of his throat refused to comply.

Many people flitted by, and Jim now realized that he was in the back of the pack. Noisily, he sighed. He looked up and squinted. Someone was running toward him. Was that...?

"Damnit, Jim! What the hell are ya doing?!"

Yup, it was Leonard.

Leonard was running slowly, very slowly, his breath heaving deliberately. Jim began to run with him.

"I decided to run with you," he stated, still slightly huffing.

"Sure, Jim. Sure." Leonard shot him a glowering look. "You shouldn't run so fast. You'll hurt yourself."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Jim said. "How far are we running, anyway?"

"Just two laps."

"Two laps." it was a deadpan statement. Jim's head tilted up. Two laps of pure hell was more like it. Running with Leonard wasn't so bad, but his legs still burned painfully.

"Let's walk," he begged.

"No," said Leonard. "But you can walk."

Jim groaned loudly. He fell back a little, but then picked up the pace, keeping in step with Leonard.

"Come on," Leonard said, "I'm old. How come you're having trouble?"

"I don't run!" exclaimed Jim. "Why would I have to? The last time I did this was in high school P.E.!"

"Well," said Leonard, "Looks like you're going to have to get better at it. You have to pass PT!"

A minute long silence stretched between the two. Leonard's breath became very loud. Jim turned to him, thinking that he was about to cough up a lung, double over, or just degenerate into a pile of dust on the road.

Leonard finally spat out a cross between an exhale and a sigh. "Fine," he conceded. "We'll walk."

They did.

"Dude," Jim said, now that they were slowed down. "Did you see Commander What's-his-Face?"

"Gee, Jim, that sure narrows it down."

"You know, pointy ears. Spock! That's his name."

"Yeah, I mighta saw him. Why?"

"Did you see how perfect his hair is?!"

"Honestly, Jim, I don't pay attention to my commander's hair."

An angry huff. "I don't know how he does it."

Leonard glanced back. His eyes widened by a fraction. "Jim," he said.

"He does everything exactly right. He's like a freaking machine!"

"Jim!"

But he still wasn't listening. "I'm...just WAITING for the day...Maybe he'll get wet or something, and his electrical freaking circuits will..."

"Hello," came a smooth voice. Jim turned. To his horror, it was Spock, coming up from behind.

"Uh..." was all he could think to say. Leonard's face was bloodshot red, staring straight forward.

Spock raised an eyebrow. He did not seem to be winded, did not seem even fazed. The dream, God, the dream! He tried not to look, but found himself doing it anyway. Right after doing so, he became very irritated with himself, and the world, and, most of all, Commander Spock.

"Why are you too not running?" he asked.

Jim felt his ears heat. Leonard began to run again, quietly, and Jim did too. He was steaming.

To his annoyance, Spock slowed his pace to theirs.

"It makes no logical sense," Spock said. "Cadet Kirk, you are in relatively good health, and you are quite young. You should not be too exhausted to run."

"Like you should talk," Jim muttered. It was he, in fact, who had run up to them.

Spock, again, lifted his eyebrow. "I don't think you understand," said Spock. "This is my second lap."

Jim's face became very hot. "Oh." he said.

"Vulcan biology is different from human biology. As a result, we are more athletically inclined."

"Of course."

"At any rate, this is a very slow rate at which to run. I have already passed physical training, so I will run with you."

Oh joy, thought Jim. What he said was, "Your consideration is appreciated, Commander."

"Consideration is a human emotion." Spock said. "I just find that my running wit you would be the most logical step to ensure that you do not stop."

Beside him, Leonard snickered. Inwardly, Jim cursed Spock's logic.

A silence passed for a while. Finally, Spock broke it.

"You will not pass PT at this rate."

Jim looked up. "What?"

"Run faster."

Spock picked up the pace. Unwilling to fall behind despite himself, Jim picked it up as well.

"God damn it," Leonard said breathlessly, going faster as well but still a little behind. "I'm a doctor, not an Olympian."

"Faster," was Spock's response. He picked it up again. Jim followed suit. Spock did this a couple more times, and soon, the trio was sprinting.

"I think I'm gonna be sick!" Leonard yelled grumpily.

"Then the most logical thing to do would be to throw up," Spock replied calmly. Jim felt a little queasy himself, but, hearing this answer, he did not dare bring it up. He realized that they were almost around the building. A little more, he thought, but could feel himself slowing down. He was almost there...surely Spock was not so mad as to make them sprint the entire way?

But Spock was having different thoughts. "You have slowed down, Kirk. Catch up."

"Arrgh," he groaned, but did so. Now he could see the end- - the crowd of people, cheering for him. He ran faster than he thought possible, so fast that he was sure his chest would explode. A little more, he thought. A little more. A little...

Suddenly, a cheer. He had passed the finish line! Spent and dizzy and lightheaded, Jim nearly toppled over on his dead feet. But just as he stopped, Spock blasted past him again.

"It is illogical for you to stop now," Spock said, "You are only 50.003 percent of the way through."

"Yeah, Jim," said a breathless Leonard, who was passing him only now, as he had not sprinted that last bit. "Come on."

Letting out a string of curses, Kirk continued. Spock, irritatingly, did not even look out of breath. And, he was STILL running!

Look on the bright side, he told himself. Yeah. The bright side.

His eyes drifted to Commander Spock's ass.

That was a bright side indeed.