As the dark sky faded into a imperceptibly lighter shade of black, and the stars continued to shine at a constant level of brightness; Jim Kirk yawned, his internal alarm clock telling him it was 'dawn' and therefore time to rise, and promptly rolled over burying his head in his pillow. He remained that way for half a glorious hour before a sharp rap on his door alerted him to the fact that his First Officer was currently standing outside it. Perfect, he smiled inwardly and repressed the urge to chuckle childishly, no time like the present to begin 'Operation One-up Spock'. Rolling lithely onto his feet he sauntered over to the door and jammed the button. Taking advantage of the few seconds it took to open, he lent casually against the door, hand on his hip, and grinned cockily.

"Why hello there, Spock" he greeted cheerfully, "what brings you to my quarters?"

Spock raised an eyebrow and said nothing. Somehow though, he managed to communicate that 1. He thought Jim was an idiot, 2. He thought Jim was inappropriately dressed, and 3. Jim was late for his shift.

"Oh yeah," Jim muttered and let the door slide closed. Damn Spock was good. He hadn't even said a word and he still managed to shut him up. I'm going to have to up the ant…ante, or whatever. He fervently hoped no one had witnessed the triple S (Spock's Silent Shutdown). Hurriedly pulling on his uniform, Jim started for the door and promptly tripped over the two pant legs he'd managed to put over the same foot.

"Damn," he swore as his hand smacked the door button on the way down causing him to land unceremoniously at the feet of his unamused First Officer. At least, to the untrained eye he seemed unamused. Jim could've sworn however that he saw a brief smirk flicker across the stoic Vulcan's face. Spock, of course, would deny it later. As it was, it seemed even Spock was unable to resist a quick taunt.

"Captain? You seem to have, as you humans say, fallen head over heels for me."

Even though all observers would testify that Spock's monotone remained intact, Jim just knew he had heard laughter in his voice. He looked up, and there it was; That Smug Smirk. You see? He wanted to yell at the onlookers, Vulcans' do get smug. But of course, he'd bet his bottom dollar that no-one else would have seen it. Of course they wouldn't, you actually had to look for it to see it. And no one was looking because it's common knowledge that Vulcans' don't show emotion. Leaping upright and trying to look as dignified as he possibly could, given that he'd just been sprawled across his First Officer's feet, Jim pasted a cocky smile on his face and gave it his best; which is to say, he turned on the 'charm'.

"Well you're quite the prince charming." He said, and then faltered, hang on, how was that an insult?

Spock raised his eyebrow and performed the triple S. Some of the onlookers guffawed. Crap, Jim panicked. Okay, I'd better run away...I mean, affect a tactical retreat. Yeah, I'll get him later. I just need time to prepare. With that Jim muttered something like "have to go do captain stuff", pushed past Spock and fled (in a dignified, captainly way). He was mortified when, upon passing the memo board, he spotted one bearing the title "Kirk vs. Spock: who will win? (Who do you think? Yeah, that's what I thought: Spock). He was even more mortified when, upon closer inspection, he saw that Spock already had two points and that he had none. Furious, he stormed onto the bridge.

"Who was it?" he yelled, "own up, who was it?"

"Who was what?" Uhura questioned with the patience of one used to this particular brand of stupidity.

"You know exactly what I mean!"

"Uh, no we don't"

Sulu gulped and slunk lower in his chair.

Jim, having run out of the little patience he actually possessed, decided he didn't care anymore, threw his arms up in defeat and collapsed into his chair.

"Well it doesn't matter," he announced, "because I'll beat him anyway. Points or no stupid points." At Uhura's disbelieving look he quickly became defensive.

"What?"

She shook her head, "nothing."

"Hmmph," he crossed his arms and begun swinging around in his chair. There really was something quite cathartic about this chair, he mused, perhaps it had something to do with the soft, leathery, texture that somehow managed to simultaneously feel like the comfiest plushy cushion one could ever sit upon. Or perhaps it was the simple, yet undeniable, fact that it was the captain's chair and he was sitting upon it…therefore making him, undeniably, captain of said chair (and all that came along with it). Oh yeah, he owned it. Even better, everyone knew he owned it. In fact, he reasoned, the chair's appeal was partly in that only he could sit upon it. Unless, of course, he was rendered incapable of captaincy, in which case Spock would sit upon it.

'I bet Spock would love that', he frowned, that just wouldn't do. He decided to begin formulating plans to keep Spock from ever experiencing the pleasure that was his chair. Half an hour passed. He glanced at the science station. Spock, who had quietly snuck in during his diabolical scheming, was, for all intents and purposes, focused on his work. Jim knew better. What else could he be doing save formulating new ways to humiliate Jim while still remaining the stoic Vulcan in the minds of the crew. What else indeed? (certainly not his job). No matter. Jim would outsmart and out scheme him. It was only a matter of time. Jim checked his watch and groaned; a matter of a lot of time. Still, long, boring, captainly shifts were good for two things; spinning in THE comfy chair, and planning Spock's downfall. Actually, they were good for three; spinning in THE comfy chair, planning Spock's downfall, and taunting one's subordinates. In particular, of course, one's Vulcan, and self-proclaimed, arch-enemy (even if said arch-enemy was mostly unaware of his updated status).

On a sudden impulse, Jim leapt off his comfy chair and strode over to the science station, slung an arm around Spock's shoulders, and lent over so all Spock could see was the back of his head, and waited for some kind of acknowledgement that would mean he had won this silent battle for…pride. None was forthcoming. Jim frowned. He knew Spock was uncomfortable about physical contact so surely he was super uncomfortable so why didn't he say something. He waited, and waited, and waited, and after about half a minute he decided he was done waiting.

"So Spock," he began, turning his head slightly so he could observe the half-Vulcan's reaction "anything interesting happening over here?"

"Nothing that I am aware of, Captain," Spock replied, seemingly unfazed by the fact that Jim's cheek was mere centimetres away from his nose. Jim knew better, of course.

"Oh, what a pity," Jim mock-sighed, "and I was so hoping for something interesting…oh well," he spun around and sat himself on Spock's desk, "guess I'll just have to amuse myself over here."

Spock raised an eyebrow, said nothing, and returned to his work. Or at least, he tried to. It was, however, made a little more difficult by the fact that Jim was currently sitting on his work. Still, to Jim's frustration, he said nothing, only continuing his work, it seemed, in his head.

'Bloody, smart, genius Vulcan, doing work in his head'. Okay, no worries, I'll just…distract him.

"So Spock," he began again, fiddling with various buttons, "if, for some unknown reason, the Enterprise was…oh I dunno, gonna explode or something, and you could save one person – or thing – what would it be?"

As expected, Spock said nothing, this time not even pausing to raise his eyebrow. Oh no, Jim thought, no one ignores me. He kicked his feet up and rested them on Spock's shoulder, continuing the one-sided conversation.

"I think I'd save my chair, I mean it's such a nice chair. Just a look at it. Oh come on, you know you want to sit in it. I know you want to sit in it. Everyone wants to sit in it because it's such a nice chair. And I know what you're thinking, how illogical, and like you, to want to save an inanimate object with no sentimental or monetary value, instead of your best friend McCoy, but I think McCoy would understand that this chair is a part of me now. It's like I found my soul mate in a chair."

At this Spock raised his eyebrow and deigned to respond.

"Captain, with all due respect, that is most illogical and as you humans say, pathetic, as chairs do not possess souls."

Jim affected a shocked and hurt look, "don't say that, you'll hurt his feelings!" He quickly assured the chair that Spock was delusional and had no idea what he was talking about, and yes he would definitely remember to clean it sometime in the next few days.

Spock didn't raise his eyebrow this time because it hadn't yet come back down. Instead he simply remarked that he was sure McCoy would not in fact understand Jim's sentimental attachment to the chair, nor his decision to save it's 'life' (despite the fact that it didn't even have one) over his, as he was currently standing at the door of the bridge sporting a furious expression. Scowling, Jim resigned himself to the fact that Spock had, yet again, beaten him in their battle of wits, allowing himself a brief "I'll get you, and your little dog too," and trudged over to face the music. Needless to say, Spock spent several hours puzzling over that last retort before Uhura shoved a copy of the Wizard of Oz at him and told him to go read it. An hour later he reported to sick bay and told McCoy he thought Jim was hallucinating a small furry animal.

All in all, Jim thought, today was a complete and utter failure. Not only had he been silently and verbally shot down by Spock on two separate occasions, but he had also been forced to endure several scans and hyposprays due to his extremely literal First Officer's interpretation of his parting retort. Day 1 was officially unsuccessful. He even had a memo to prove it.

A/N: Let me know if you guys have any ideas for Jim's diabolical plans…