a/n: If you're taking the time to read this, please review and let me know what you think? I want to know if this is worth pursuing…

Kirk was fairly good at reading people. Even before that fateful day when he had scrabbled at the earth as a kid, his stepfather's prized car plunging down into the canyon depths, James had learned the hard way that he didn't really have anyone he could depend on.

His mother was never home. Whenever she was, Winona Kirk could barely stand to look at her only son. Perhaps Kirk reminded her too much of his father, or maybe it was the swinging bouts of depression that had often plagued her since his inception. Whatever it was, Kirk was often left to fend for himself with his stepfather who liked using him as a verbal and human punching bag.

Charlie had taught him the necessity for deciphering someone's body language. If he was cradling a beer and that mouth of Charlie's was drooping down on that one side, it meant Kirk had to make himself scarce. If Charlie's face was mottled purple and he was just itching to lay his hand on something, Kirk had to make himself scarce.

Come to think about it, maybe that officer had done him a favour by forcing him into that group home.

But, Kirk mused, leaning against the railing of the deck overlooking the Rec Room, Colonel Gabriela Rodriguez left him feeling like he was missing something even after a week of having her on his ship.

On the surface, she looked every inch what you would expect her to be. Petite, mocha-skinned, long curly hair twisted up into a bun. Her voice was not soft, but not loud either. It was cultured, Kirk decided, as if she pondered every word before she spoke it. The Colonel was fairly solitary, though she wasn't anti-social by any means. He had caught glimpses of her with other members of the crew, especially Uhura, gesturing expressively as she laughed or spoke. She did her job with quiet efficiency.

Apparently she was so proficient that Kirk had barely seen her.

It's almost as if she's avoiding me.

Right now, Gabriela appeared to be beating the living daylights out of an old-school punching bag Kirk had specifically requested be fitted to the ship. Boxing gloves strapped on, her fists and feet made deep thuds into the sandbag. Each strike was deliberate and heavy.

'Can I help you with something Captain?' Her voice brought him abruptly out of his thoughts. Gabriela looked up at him, hair plastered to her face.

Busted.

'Just admiring the view,' Kirk commented. He watched as her mouth tightened as it did whenever he said something inappropriate. Flirting was as natural as breathing to Kirk – it was a reflex he could never temper without supreme conscious effort. Another thing instinctual to him was spontaneity.

'You good at hand-to-hand Colonel?' Kirk asked, making his way down to the mats. He waved his hand dismissively at the few cadets gathered at one corner who had immediately sprung to attention upon seeing him.

'I'm a Marine Sir. My best weapon is always going to be my hands,' Gabriela replied shortly, as if this disgusted her somewhat. Catching herself, she started undoing the Velcro around her wrists.

Interesting.

'Want to spar?'

'Sir?' Gabriela frowned.

'I'm serious. You and me. One on one,' he pointed his finger at him and then towards her. 'C'mon. I promise not to kick your ass too much,' Kirk wheedled. Gabriela's full lips compressed into a thin line.

'I think I'll pass Captain,' Gabriela answered, giving him a forced smile. 'Engaging in a physical altercation with my Commanding Officer, even if it is merely recreational, isn't something I would like the Admiral hearing about.'

Just the opening I needed.

'Or the Commander?' Kirk pressed, raising an eyebrow. He had seen the two of them at the bar the night before Gabriela had come aboard the Enterprise. A few minutes with Joe had informed Kirk that Commander Timothy Cahill was Gabriela's colleague down at JAG, and her best friend. Seeing their heads bent so close together, the way she allowed Cahill to put his hands on the spot where her waist met her hip – Kirk was trying to decide whether they were more than friends.

'The Commander?' Gabriela repeated, confused.

'Well, I've had experience with overprotective boyfriends. Completely unintentional of course,' Kirk hastily tried to defend himself before he could stop to consider why he was.

What the hell am I doing?

'The Commander is a good friend of mine,' she seemed to force the words out.

Doesn't like sharing personal information – check. Didn't say she doesn't have a boyfriend, but no ring either.

'That's good to know,' Kirk murmured. Gabriela seemed torn for a moment before she finally decided it was alright for her to pick up the small duffle she had apparently brought along. An awkward silence seemed to charge the air and Kirk struggled for something to say.

'Are you enjoying your time on the Enterprise? I'm sorry I haven't had the chance to check up on you personally…' Kirk winced internally at the veiled innuendo. Dammit.

'It's different than being in a courtroom,' Gabriela said after a pause. Her tone seemed wistful. 'But it's a new challenge, having people to be responsible for,' she continued, referring to the handful of cadets under her. 'I can't imagine having an entire crew to look after.'

'It's something you get used to, I guess,' Kirk offered in response, shrugging his shoulders. It still weighed heavily on Jim whenever he thought about the thousands of lives he had at his disposal. Engineering, Medical, Intelligence, Communications, JAG – everything he said or did decided whether these people lived or died. He was their Captain and they were his people.

Who knew a good-for-nothing farm boy from Riverside would become the youngest Starfleet Captain in the Federation?

'Is there anything else Captain?' Gabriela asked, bag slung over one shoulder.

'Are you angry at someone or something?' Kirk motioned towards the now slightly more worse for wear punching bag.

'Or something.'

'Yeah?' He tried to press.

'Yeah.'

And failed.

Kirk sighed. Conversing with this woman was like trying to draw blood from a stone.

'Captain Kirk, please report to the Med Bay immediately,' Leonard McCoy's voice boomed throughout the room. Shit, how did Bones find out about his ribs? Gabriela appeared to be scrutinizing him.

'Are you hurt Sir?' Was that concern he heard in her voice?

If at first you don't succeed…

'Just a few minor bumps and bruises. Old injuries,' Kirk attempted to sound nonchalant.

Try getting your face pummeled every other day and then trying to survive weird alien-dinosaur creatures when your Acting-Captain leaves you on some wasted popsicle for mutiny. Oh, and let's not forget the Vulcan mind shazam.

'Now Captain,' McCoy repeated, sounding extremely agitated.

Might as well face the music.

'Well Colonel, maybe I'll see you around,' Kirk said somewhat regretfully. Gabriela chewed her lip before straightening.

'If it's alright with you Sir, I need to speak with Dr McCoy as well.'

'By all means then.'

She fell into step beside him, duffle bag now slung across one shoulder. Kirk was sure an offer to carry it would be rebuffed.

'No chance of you calling me Jim, huh?'

A half-smile was his only answer.