It was all Jaylah's fault.

After taking down Krall's drones at Yorktown, Jim rediscovered his passion for classical music. It broke up the monotony of flying through space, provided them with a beat to work to.

So while the starship Enterprise flew through space, the bridge was filled with the intense beats of hip-hop from several hundred years previous.

Jim was sitting in his captain's chair, bobbing his head to the music. Shake Your Rump was blaring loudly.

This incursion of music onto the bridge was not met well by everyone. That was why Jim's Chief Science Officer, Second in Command and best friend was approaching the captain's chair, hands held behind his back and standing so straight he looked to have a steel rod where his spine should be. "Captain, I would like to lodge a formal protest about your need for this noise on the bridge. It is against Starfleet regulations and is difficult to drown out."

"Come on, Spock," Jim waved his hand dismissively. "You're the only one who has a problem with it."

"Just because I am the only one who is willing to bring it to your attention does not mean I am the only one who finds difficulty with this." Spock tilted his head. "I do urge you to reconsider this or I will have to go to Starfleet Command."

"Spock, I really think it's just you," Jim replied. "Everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves. Look at Uhura."

"Captain, as a large part of Lieutenant Uhura's duties involves listening to delicate subspace distortion I do not believe..." Spock trailed off as he turned to the communications station.

Jim grinned as Spock focused his attention on the red clad figure leaning over the comm unit. Uhura's hips were swaying to the beat. Spock's hands flexed and his ears started to turn chartreuse.

"Spock?" Jim said, unable to hide his glee.

"Yes Captain?" Spock's eyes were still glued to the bouncing backside of the lieutenant.

"You were saying you wanted to lodge a formal complaint."

Spock's eyebrow rose. "Perhaps... I was making a snap judgment. I did not take into account all of the variables."

Jim nodded his head slowly. "I appreciate you being thorough."

"I should check with comm to see if the lieutenant has discovered the source of that distortion." Spock was already on the move.

"You do that," Jim couldn't hide his laughter. Spock had rushed over to the comm station. His hands had finally moved from behind his back and he placed them on the comm station, Uhura conveniently wedged between him and the comm unit.

Jim leaned back in his chair. "Computer, raise music volume by ten percent."

That night Jim was laying in bed, just about to drift off to sleep, when the wall he shared with Spock's quarters began to vibrate. Jim opened his eyes a crack, trying to identify it. For a second, he thought he might be imagining it.

Then he realized it was, in fact, very real. Pour Some Sugar on Me was actually emanating from Spock's quarters.

Jim was unsure whether he should feel a sense of pride or revulsion that he'd contributed to his uptight First Officer asking his girlfriend for what was more than likely his first lap dance.

When the rhythmic beat of the music gave way to another rhythmic beat, Jim threw his pillow over his head and pressed it against his ear. "Lucky Vulcan bastard."