Disclaimer: I regret to inform you the Star Trek is in no way the legal property of me.  Sorry for any disappointment or inconvenience this may cause you.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Kirk and Carl's arrival in the brig baffled the two guards on duty.  Kirk hauled Carl in and stopped in front of the nearest guard.

"All right.  Lock him up," Kirk said briskly.

Carl, in the typical fashion of a bully, was offering little resistance now that someone else was pushing him around.  He had given up arguing, and all he did now was nod to Charlie, who was sprawled on his back on a bench in one cell.  "H'lo, Charlie."

Charlie lifted his head to glance out at the corridor, and waved, one jerk of his hand.  "Hey, Carl.  You tick off the big man too?"

Carl shrugged.  "I tried to kill a guy."

"Let me guess.  You tried to kill his pet Russian, right?"  At Carl's nod, he added, "So did you do it?"

Carl shook his head.  "Nah."

"Tough luck."

Kirk was ignoring them.  "Well?  Don't you like locking up pirates?"

The ensign looked at him, confused.  This was a situation definitely not covered at the Academy.  "Um…what do you want us to do?"

Kirk pointed at Carl.  "I want you to guard him."

The guards looked at each other uncertainly.  "I'm not sure we can do that."

Kirk stared at them.  "You're security guards!"

"But you're not our commanding officer," one guard pointed out.

Kirk considered that.  "You have a point, actually.  Hang on."  He took the three steps to the wall comm, still keeping a grip on Carl's arm, and thumbed it on.  "Kirk to security base."

There was a brief hum, and then a voice picked up. "Jones here."

"Hello, Jones," Kirk said pleasantly.  "Is Gray there?"

"Sure.  Just a minute."

A minute later, more or less, Gray came on the line.  His somewhat less than friendly greeting was, "What do you want, Kirk?"

Kirk was unperturbed.  "Actually, I'm calling about what you want.  For instance, do you want another pirate to guard?"

Gray became more cordial.  "Absolutely.  Have you got one?"

Kirk grinned.  "Most definitely."

So the guards concluded they could guard Carl.

"Try to consider my position," Kirk addressed Carl and Charlie through the flickering forcefield.  "You both threatened my authority.  If I don't do something, I'll have open mutiny within hours.  It's the nature of the game."

"So you make a deal with Starfleet?" Charlie said contemptuously.  "You're throwing in with the enemy."

Kirk shook his head, then grinned.  "Consider it more a matter of establishing a mutually beneficial line of communication."  Then he headed back to the bridge.

By now it was five o'clock.  Beta Shift had begun an hour ago, and the faces at the consoles were not the usual ones.  Except for one, and that reminded Kirk of something he'd been thinking about.

"Spock, how much time to you spend on this bridge, anyway?" Kirk asked.

Spock turned away from his station, eyebrow raised.  "Pardon?"

"I've been wondering," Kirk explained, and he had.  "You're always here.  I get here at seven; you're already here.  I leave around six.  You're still here.  You're always going back to the bridge after dinner.  Are you ever not here?"

"I customarily arrive at the bridge at six.  I usually leave at ten."

Kirk stared at him.  "PM?"

Spock nodded curtly.  "Of course."

"But that's…that's…that's sixteen hours!"

"Fifteen," Spock corrected.

"Sixteen.  I'm not Vulcan, but I can count."

"Fifteen.  I spend half an hour at lunch and half an hour at dinner."

"Oh," Kirk said.  "Okay, fifteen.  But still, fifteen hours a day, five days a week, that's—"

"Six," Spock corrected.

"What?"

"Six days a week.  Sometimes seven."

"Okay, fifteen hours a day, six days a week, that's—"

"Ninety hours."

Kirk gave him an incredulous look.  "You work ninety hours a week?  When do you sleep?"

"Vulcans do not require a great deal of sleep," Spock said calmly.

"When do you do anything else?"

Spock's eyebrow rose.  "What else?"

Kirk blinked.  "Well…don't you have any frien—no, we already settled that one.  Any hobbies?  Anything you spend your free time on?"  He stopped.  "No, because you have no free time.  But anyway, don't you ever do anything just for, y'know, fun?"

"Fun," Spock repeated dryly.

Kirk had a pained expression.  "Please don't tell me fun is illogical.  Please, just…don't tell me."

"Very well.  I won't."

Kirk was thinking hard.  "There must be something you'd enjoy.  Has to be.  And I'll think of it.  Just give me a minute."

Spock gave him a faintly doubtful expression—that is, a faint expression, not a faint doubt—and refrained from comment.  He had just returned to his work when Kirk suddenly snapped his fingers.

"I've got it," Kirk announced.  "Just the sort of thing to appeal to that logical mind of yours."  He abandoned the center chair in favor of the railing, leaning over it towards Spock.  His eyes were dancing, enthusiasm apparent at a glance, a boyish grin spread across his face.  "Did you ever play chess?"

*  *  *

Kirk studied the situation with a frown.  He was outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and cornered.  Not that he wouldn't go down fighting, of course.  But still…  "You could have mentioned, just in passing, you know, that you were a grand master," he complained.

Spock looked at him over the chessboard.  "I have not played chess in some time.  And besides…you didn't ask me."

Kirk was delighted.  "Spock, that was a shockingly human response!"

Spock's expression immediately became guarded.  "I hope not."

"Come on, admit it.  You're really just one of us," Kirk teased.  "Except for the ears, of course."

"If you are attempting to distract me from the game, it is not working.  It is still your move, and you are still in check," Spock said pointedly.

Kirk heaved a sigh.  "Can't blame me for trying."  Then he set theatrics aside, and carefully studied the 3-D chessboard.  After a few moments of thought he moved a rook.

Spock swept in with his bishop.  "Checkmate."

"I want a rematch," Kirk said at once.  "I have my honor to consider, you know."

"Very well," Spock agreed.

All in all, neither one went back to the bridge that evening.  Kirk was walking on air when he finally left the rec room.  It had taken five games, but he had finally beaten Spock.  And he was pretty sure that, given the opportunity, he could do it again.