On the bottom floor of the building in which Spock and Kirk resided was a small kitchen in which adventurous cadets could attempt to do their own cooking. Spock generally avoided this area as it was usually very dirty as none of the other students seemed to have any trepidation about leaving spills un-wiped and dishes unwashed. Whenever he ventured down to this unhygienic, often smoky room he invariably cleaned the entire place only to find that it had reverted back to its dismal state just days later. He found it extremely disconcerting that the future members of Starfleet didn't have the discipline or inclination to keep their cooking space clean.
It was a Sunday afternoon and Kirk had gotten it into his head that he was going to cook dinner for Spock, Janice, and Uhura.
"It will be fun!" he had insisted. "We can do a double date!"
"There is only one date today," Spock replied coolly, "and that is the twenty-fourth of September."
However, Kirk had prevailed and he, wearing an appropriately hideous flowered apron, whistled cheerfully as he stirred a pot of something on the kitchen stove. Spock, as was his custom, was busily wiping up the numerous drops of whatever Kirk was preparing that were splashed out by Kirk's careless stirring.
"Isn't cooking fun?" the young man asked. "And everyone says it's so hard. This is easy!"
"What exactly are you planning on preparing?" Spock asked, trying to scrub a stubborn stain from the counter.
Kirk removed the pot from the heat and poured the thick, yellowish mixture into a rectangular glass dish. "I'm not really sure. I'm just throwing some stuff together that was left in the fridge." he replied, putting the dish into the oven.
Spock picked up and examined the now-empty carton of eggs that Kirk had used.
"This has a name written upon the lid." he said. "I believe that would indicate that those eggs are for private use by the person who wrote the name."
Kirk shrugged and opened the oven a crack so that he could observe his creation. "Oops. Too late now."
Spock frowned slightly. "That is stealing." he said. "You consider stealing to be wrong, correct?"
Kirk rolled his eyes. "I didn't steal them. If you leave it in the fridge, it's free game."
"Actually it's confined." Spock corrected. Kirk turned to look at him, looking much dumfounded.
"What?"
"What?" Spock replied calmly.
"You say really weird things sometimes." Kirk muttered, shaking his head. He crossed the kitchen and began perusing the dishes in the cabinets. "Let's make some juice!" he said, pulling a two-quart pitcher from one of the shelves. "Would you check the freezer?"
Spock walked over and opened the freezer door, looking inside. He closed it again and then looked at Kirk expectantly.
"Well?" the young man asked.
"The freezer appears to be fully functioning." the Vulcan replied. "It was very cold inside."
"Is there any juice mix?" Kirk asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
"No."
Kirk frowned. "Can I trust you to take this pitcher to the replicator and fill it up?"
"I believe you are capable of that, yes." Spock replied. Kirk handed him the pitcher.
"Whatever, just do it and bring it back. The girls will be here soon."
Spock took the pitcher and carried it carefully out of the room and down the corridor. The replicator was at the far end of the hallway and, surprisingly, there was no line to use it.
Spock placed the pitcher in the replicator, slid the door shut, and told the computer:
"Juice, two quarts."
There was a negative sounding beep.
"Specify," the computer replied with a slightly mechanical female voice, "type of juice."
Spock hesitated. Kirk had not given him specific instructions as to what type of juice to get.
"I do not know." Spock replied.
"Please identify main fruit ingredients of desired juice." the computer ordered.
"Insufficient data." The Vulcan said. "I cannot provide the required information."
"Please seek assistance." the computer replied. "Replication cannot commence."
"Perhaps you could make a recommendation."
"The most commonly replicated juice is derived from the Earth orange." said the computer. "It is most commonly ordered at breakfast time."
"It is not the time for breakfast." Spock told the computer. "It is the time for dinner. What is the most commonly replicated juice for dinner?"
"Apple cranberry."
Spock waited.
"Which is it?" he asked. "Apple or cranberry?"
"It is a fusion of both." the computer replied.
"A combination? Fascinating… What other combination juices do you have?"
"What are you doing?"
Spock turned to see Kirk, looking rather comical in his ruffled apron with flour smeared on his cheek and a dripping spoon in his hand, standing behind him. The Vulcan gestured towards the replicator.
"I am replicating juice, as you asked me."
"No," Kirk replied, "you're having a conversation with the computer, and it's creepy."
"The computer is an excellent conversationalist." Spock said. "It is far more easy to understand than you are."
Kirk forced a fake laugh.
"Ha, ha, ha. You are sooooo hilarious."
"I did not intend my comment to be a joke."
Kirk sighed. "I know. That's the worst part… Hey, replicator!"
It beeped in acknowledgment.
"Make some orange juice."
It beeped again, this time affirmatively. The door slid open, revealing the pitcher, now full with orange juice. Kirk pushed past Spock to get it.
"Orange juice is generally associated with breakfast." Spock replied, following Kirk as he walked carefully back to the kitchen. "It is not breakfast time. It is time for dinner, and that is what we are serving. I suggest you order another juice, preferably a fusion."
"But we're having breakfast." Kirk replied.
"I do not understand."
They entered the kitchen and Spock saw that Uhura and Janice had arrived while he was gone. There were four places set on the table and on each plate was a perfect, golden brown, steaming omelet.
"Ta da!" Kirk announced. "Breakfast is served."
He set the juice on the table and pulled out Janice's chair for her before sitting down in the chair beside hers. Spock, following suit, did the same for Uhura.
"You are mistaken. This isn't breakfast." he whispered, leaning toward Kirk. "In order for a meal to be considered breakfast it must be eaten in the morning."
"Whatever!" Kirk muttered back. "Just eat it, okay?" He looked up and smiled. "Enjoy the meal, ladies." he added at a normal volume. Janice took a bite of omelet.
"Oh, Jim!" she exclaimed. "This is delicious! Where did you learn to cook?"
"Some people are just naturally talented." he replied casually. Spock looked down at his own omelet and then over to the stove, upon which sat a slightly charred, rectangular glass dish containing the ashes of what may have once been food. Kirk followed Spock's gaze and shrugged. The Vulcan tilted his head slightly to one side.
"There's another replicator at the other end of the hall." Kirk whispered to him. Then he put his finger to his lips. Spock nodded, understanding that he was not to share that bit of information.
"What are you two boys whispering about?" Uhura asked.
"We were just talking about how beautiful the two of you look this evening." Kirk replied smoothly. The girl couldn't help but smile. Kirk lifted his glass of orange juice. "To the most beautiful ladies at Starfleet."
They all raised their glasses but Spock. They waited, their glasses hanging in the air.
"Pick up your cup!" Kirk muttered.
"Your statement is not accurate." Spock replied. "Based on conventional standards of beauty, Ms. Raynd and Ms. Uhura are not the most—"
Uhura slammed her foot into Spock's shin and gave him a firm look.
He lifted his glass.
"To the most beautiful ladies." he affirmed.
Kirk gave a tremendous cough that sounded slightly like the word "whipped".
"What was that?" Uhura asked, her eyebrows arching dangerously. Kirk took a sip of juice.
"Nothing, nothing at all."
He winked at Spock from behind his glass.
The Vulcan decided that he did not like dinner parties.