Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Kirk had spent most of the morning in his Ready Room working remotely on different projects and requesting the rules of the contest from every Admiral and his assistant he could find listed in Star Fleet's directory. Thus far he had run into the official 'red tape' and had been placed on hold so long even the waiting music had been repeated at least once. He was still angry at being treated in such a manner, but without calling the JAG officers, he had little hope of wrestling free of this entire situation. He had resigned himself to go peacefully, without much of a fuss.

The Enterprise had the best crew in the Fleet, so not having the Captain on the bridge was not as much of a problem as it would have been on other ships, yet Kirk could not fight the twinge of guilt as he realized he had been shut away from his Senior Crew the entire morning. Stretching his legs, he weighed his options. He could go to the Mess and eat in full view of anyone who wanted to tease him or ask him a dozen questions about the contest, he could eat in his Ready Room and meet them back on the bridge after lunch, or he could simply leave things as they were. None of the three seemed particularly pleasing to the blonde.

The decision was made for him as the door chimed. Squaring his shoulders, Kirk turned to the door. "Enter." His command betrayed none of his inner turmoil.

Surprisingly, it was Uhura who entered carrying a tray with two lunches. "Captain, I assumed you would be hungry and after today's news, I didn't want you to eat alone." She sat the tray down on the table studying Kirk's face.

Smiling, and internally relieved, he ushered for them to be seated. "I was just about to get some lunch myself. Thank you for remembering me." He opened his chicken salad's container.

Arranging her plate, avoiding making eye contact, Uhura nodded. "Captain, I will assist you in any way possible with this assignment. I have stood by you countless times before during much more strenuous situations." She was trying not to be pushy, but Kirk would not doubt need a coach on proper dating etiquette and as Admiral Pike had already ordered her to act as his assistant in preparations, she might as well make this easy on herself. Jim Kirk was stubborn, so gentle prodding was the way to go.

Taking her hand gently, Kirk forced her to meet his gaze. "Thank you." He kissed her knuckles before letting her hand slip away.

Shocked beyond words by his simple gesture, Uhura blinked rapidly. "Well, this might not be as bad as I thought." She teased as they began eating their lunch.

The music had a nice, steady beat, which made movement easy as it bounced off the Rec room's walls. It was free flowing and inspiring. Uhura had promised Kirk to help him with the 'assignment' and one of the duties of Mr. Kirk on the 'date' would be an official dance. Which would normally have been a piece of cake, but Command did not approve of Kirk's normal style of dance. So, Uhura would be teaching her Captain the delicate art of ballroom dancing as ordered by Admiral Pike, with a little salsa on the side to spice things up. He would need a variety of dance moves to pull from because the music would be selected by his dance partner, so he needed to be ready for anything.

Uhura strode towards him with purpose, her brown eyes locked onto his slightly worried blue and her long flowing skirt swishing around her ankles. "Now Jim, first things first, you will have to assert yourself over your date. She is going to be starry eyed and grabby handed." She stepped closer. "Make sure to keep her hands where you want them, don't let her move them, but don't be too forceful." Stepping forward, Kirk wrapped one arm around her waist and held her opposite hand. She loosely draped her hand on his shoulder.

His grip was strong, yet gentle as they began to sway to the beat. She nodded encouragement as he moved them around the room in a lazy circle. Uhura smiled, pleased that his waltz left little to be desired. The music increased tempo and Kirk's movements responded in kind. His steps were no longer formal, but looser. His hips began to sway with the music, encouraging Uhura's to do the same. His steps loosing their European influence as the Latin beat grew stronger.

Flashing a grin, Kirk began twirling, twisting and spinning Uhura around the room, their audience growing and with it their cheers. Finding it harder and harder to keep up with Kirk's lead, Uhura began to break a sweat. His steps were as advanced if not more than hers. But as with all things, Jim Kirk was a natural-born leader. She never missed a step or turned the wrong way, he kept her right where she needed to be. His hand stayed firmly at the small of her back, never dipping below the polite curve of her waist.

Seeing how much of a workout he was putting her through, Kirk ended their dance with a low bow, leaning her as far back as she could stretch and holding her as long as the crowd applauded. Finally, bringing her back to her feet, he released her and bowed low to his dance partner, tucking his grin away from her prying eyes.

With her hands on her hips and her breath coming in pants, Uhura glared at the top of his head. "You are no beginner." She raised an eyebrow as he looked up at her.

Standing once more, smirking, Jim shrugged a devious tinkle in his eyes. "I had a few lessons here and there over the years, but it's been a while since I had such a great partner. Besides, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to dance with the lovely Nyota." He kissed her knuckles once more.

Uhura could not find it in her to be mad. "Alright, I'll let you by this time." She jerked her hand back playfully. "You've got less than eighteen hours until this twenty-four hour contest is closed. There are several more things on Pike's list to cover." With her head held high she led him from the room. He winked over his shoulder to the group still applauding his dance skills.

Chekov's quarters had been transformed into a cozy authentic Italian restaurant. He met Kirk and his 'date' Uhura at the door ushering them inside. "Velome to Luwgi's!" He was dressed in a tux with a fake moustache on his young lip.

Kirk bit back his laughter as he followed the Russian towards their checker-board clothed table complete with a lit candle in the middle. Smiling, he admired the handiwork done in the small room. Just as Kirk was about to sit down, Chekov cleared his throat loudly, forcing the blonde's attention back to the other two in the room. Realizing his error, Kirk jumped up and rushed around the table. "I'm sorry." He pulled the chair out for Uhura.

Batting her eyelashes and giggling, Uhura took her seat. Suppressing an eye roll, Jim smiled down at her before helping her slide the chair up to the table and once more taking his own seat. Chekov placed two sheets of paper in front of the pair. "I highly suggest ze spaghetti and meatballs." With a wink, he was gone.

Taking the hint to order what was already replicated, Kirk sipped his water. "Jim, you will have to talk to this girl, or guy, you know." Uhura snapped his attention back to the task at hand.

With a deep breath, Kirk rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I kinda just thought she or he would be going on and on about what ever they want to talk about." He sighed. "You mean I have to have a list of possible topics of conversation?" He groaned as he slouched in his chair.

Uhura rolled her eyes. "Ok, fine you can let her talk about herself, but you have to at least give her the go-ahead and act like you are interested!" She raised an eyebrow that sent shivers down the backs of grown men much larger than Kirk.

Popping his neck and rolling his shoulder, Kirk sat up straight in his chair. "Nyota, why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" His tone was sweet yet not overbearing. It was perfect.

Suppressing the urge to ask him how many times he had used that line before, the petite woman smiled and clapped her hands. "Oh Jim! I thought you would never ask! I have a very important job, but my boss can be womanizer at times. I just got out of a relationship. It just wasn't meant to be. I have some of the greatest friends in the galaxy. I love to go shopping. You and I should totally go to the mall!" She squealed.

Chekov swept in keeping Kirk from having to answer that open-ended nightmare of a question. "Dinner is serwed!" He placed a steaming pile of pasta in front of each, serving Uhura first. "Bon Appetite." With a kiss to his finger tips in an attempt to pull off the Italian gesture, Chekov disappeared back into the other room.

The duo began to eat, falling into an easy conversation about life on the ship. Kirk let Uhura steer the topics, and first she hadn't noticed until she mentioned picking out the nail polish for her toes on their recent shore leave. Staring at him, her mouth agape, she was suddenly very proud of her Captain. "You don't need my help with any of this do you?" Her eyes were tiny slits as she judged his reaction.

Wiping his mouth, Kirk laughed. "I do need your help on a few things, but it has nothing to do with the actual 'date' just all the work behind the scenes." He sat his napkin down on the table and jumped up from his chair. "I need to get going; I'm late for my workout. Thank you, Nyota." He pressed a kiss atop her head and was out the door before she could argue.

Turning back to her delicious but mostly gone meal, Uhura had to smile to herself. James T. Kirk was not as big of a ladies' man as he had led everyone to believe. In fact she had just been on a 'date' with the Captain and had he not been her superior officer and good friend, she might have been smitten as well. He knew exactly how to treat a date and would handle himself and the lucky winner with the utmost professionalism. Bones was right; their little Jimmy was growing up.

As Kirk ran on the treadmill, a text message from Admiral Pike popped onto his PADD interrupting his stream of music. Grinding his teeth as he opened the memo, Jim increased the speed on the treadmill taking out his frustration. The memo was addressed to Captain James Tiberius Kirk and it was regarding the Essay contest.

It outlined the rules of the contest. Basically, the person had to be a citizen of the Federation and not in prison, other than that anyone was eligible. The contest was open to males and females aged twelve human years and older. Kirk knew exactly why the age limit was so low, he had helped negotiate a peace treaty with the planet of inhabitants who never lived to see forty. The essay had to be atleast five hundred words long and they were due by tomorrow afternoon at 1500 San Francisco time. Star Fleet crew members were highly discouraged from entering, but were not ineligible. A ten member team would select the top five essays and Jim Kirk would pick the winner. The announcement would be made forty-eight hours after the contest was closed with the top five winners in attendance at the Academy. The date would be that night and would consist of dinner and a personal tour of the Academy grounds. The Enterprise was already en route to Earth for their Captain to make his dazzling appearance.

The second paragraph was for his eyes only. In technical and politically correct jargon it stated this had been an idea to increase recruitment amongst the younger generations by keeping the 'young and virile' Kirk in the forefront. In a cliché move, they believed that these kids would want to join the same militia that had such handsome men who got all the women or who did not suppress individuality, but promoted it. They hoped that while researching the nature of Star Fleet they would come to agree with its founding purpose and wish to join their cause which would in turn help to sway the conscious of other young people. Not to mention the nice little line stating that this was in his agreement when he joined 'to be available for any and all recruiting or training techniques'.

Huffing, Kirk closed the screen and jumped off the treadmill. He would have done this without the least bit of argument if they had only asked him. But of course no one had thought that Jim Kirk would have cared to be made the center of attention and worshiped by dozens of men and women. Normally they would be right, but it was the principle of the matter: Kirk was not a puppet. He had been recruited by Pike because he was his own person with his own way of doing things. Some how that message must have not made it up the chain of command. Perhaps he should have sent a memo. He shook his head, grinning to himself as he headed back to his room. He was tired now and would not have the least bit of trouble sleeping.

Sitting at a desktop terminal with less than sixteen hours remaining, contestant number five hundred, forty-two thousand six hundred eighteen submitted their essay to the Star Fleet Command web address.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

If you can guess who it is, I'll be really surprised