ALERT-
Jim gathered his strength, giving a war cry as he charged at Spock again. A right hook was blocked. Followed by a right roundhouse that Spock easily dodged. Jim was getting pissed off. Defend. Defend. Defend. That's all Spock was doing was defending! They'd been sparring for nearly fifteen minutes and Spock continued to refuse eliciting attacks.
Jim had enough. In aggravation, he charged at Spock's frame, using the momentum to crash him against the wall. With a heavy blow to the shoulder, Spock's elbow hit a nerve that caused Jim to stop his attack, falling to the ground in pain.
"Dammit, Spock!"
"It is not my problem that you are a predictable fighter. I merely have to wait for the opportune moment, then seize it. It would be wise for you to recalculate your strategy." Spock offered his hand.
"Yeah, yeah."
Jim yanked Spock's hand towards him, pressing his foot against his gut, using it as a springboard, and using the momentum to fling Spock over his body. Spock recovered, springing into a fighting stance.
"Come on, you pointy-eared bastard! Fight me," Jim prodded, as he readied his fists.
A twittering beep sounded overhead, as Spock took charge with a series of blocked blows to Jim's face and torso.
"Bridge to Captain Kirk."
"Kirk here. Go ahead, bridge."
Spock's bellowing charge could be heard over the intercom as well as a series of grunts, punches, and exhalations. Uhura had to bite her tongue from chastising the captain and the first officer from acting like childish boys.
"Sir, we're receiving a distress signal from a ship less than twelve light years away. Your presence is needed on the bridge, Captain." The intercom beeped out.
Jim was hunched over his knees, breathing heavily, as Spock stood, panting.
"When you going to get a rein on your girlfriend not to bug us during private meetings?"
"She can be very stubborn… and slightly selfish at times."
"Women are a handful," Jim tossed a towel to Spock to dry off, before heading to the bridge.
In fresh-pressed yellow, Kirk arrived on the bridge first.
"Mr. Sulu, set a course to intercept with the distressed vessel at warp eight."
"Aye, Captain."
Glancing over to the xenolinguistics console, Uhura sat there glaring at him. Jim raised an eyebrow in response, which caused her to huff out of her chair and off of the bridge. What the hell had he done wrong?
Uhura snorted, folding her arms. Irritable impatience was gnawing at her. A light flashed indicating she had reached her intended deck, but the elevator door opened only to a greater problem for Uhura. Spock stood in blue uniform prepared to appear on the bridge. Uhura bit her lip and re-erected her head high barely glancing at the Vulcan, before storming by. Spock thought about responding but judged it was not the best time. He stepped into the lift a slight frustration in the back of his mind. Lieutenant Uhura had been such a bewilderment to him, since they're debate a week ago. To him, the debate had ended conclusively without need for much or any emotional flair. Uhura seemed to think differently.
She pandered to her selfish emotions, which caused her to always stomp off in anger. Her illogic baffled him. He understood her human emotional needs but did not understand her personal offense to his petitioning to partake in a few Vulcan rituals. Perhaps the answer would come forward, whenever Uhura's emotions ceased? It was a hope.
Spock's thoughts instantly focused on his duties, as the lift's doors opened for him onto the bridge.