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"Ten PM? It's quittin' time!"

A large, obnoxious yawn stole the attention to the center of the bridge, where a young blonde blue-eyed man stretched broadly from his seat. As the continuous groan extended, the rest of the Beta bridge crew slowly trudged out of their stations, bidding everyone else good night and leaving to go to bed, equally tired from the day's work. The Captain of the Enterprise dropped his hands with a smack, turning around to face who was left in the area. His eyes rolled as he strolled over to the science station, peering over the blue clad shoulder of his pointy-eared First Officer.

"Oh, Mister Spock," Jim Kirk called teasingly. "I said it was 'quittin' time', and that generally means it's time to hit the hay and leave the ship in the hands of the skeleton crew."

His science officer hummed in affirmation, though it was obvious that the Vulcan wasn't paying attention to a single word he said. Kirk frowned in annoyance, wondering why star mapping was more important than clocking out before their next shift in seven hours.

"Oh, come on, this is your fifth time you've overworked overtime," Jim sighed, pulling the chair back slightly to get him moving. Only, Spock stubbornly remained in place, glued to the seat and eyes attached to the viewer. "You'll burn yourself out, Vulcan or not, and I'm going to have to bring McCoy up here after you pass out from exhaustion."

Spock paused from his work only to give him a look. "I do not get exhausted, sir. Vulcans have more resilience than humans—"

"Tell that to those bags under your eyes," he deadpanned. The Captain huffed, standing straight when the man continued on with his work and began moving to the turbolift. "Fine then, whatever. Have it your way. Of course, I will be informing Bones of this, and I'm sure he will be more than happy to give you several hypos for your sleeping issues." Jim smirked when he heard the chair squeak in his direction, and just before he got into the turbolift himself, Spock joined him almost magically. They both held the handles as the doors closed. "Deck four… I thought you wanted to work, Commander?"

"Yes, but I am also aware that troubling the doctor when he has his own duties to manage will only hinder the productivity of our sustainability," Spock answered, factual and not a bit suspicious like always. Well… not always. That man was not a very good liar, and Jim learned that the hard way.

The captain nodded slowly. "Right."

The rest of the ride was filled with silence. Jim slowly forced himself to remain awake, but when the thoughts of his bed and covers reached his mind, his body began to droop in the anticipation of comfort. The day was taxing as everyday, with him signing off and reading reports left and right, commanding a starship and crew of over four hundred people, and maintaining the role of Best Captain of the 'Fleet, as he says so himself, Kirk deserves to get a little shut eye! After all, he has to keep a healthy lifestyle to perfect his outstanding appearance. Unlike his First Officer, who manages sensibly and looks to be hit by a bus all at the same time, the Vulcan constantly wants to work like it's the end of the world. Of course, not that Jim minds all the time, but he just wishes that his second in command can learn how to loosen his shoulders enough to rest. He is the Captain. After all, it is his responsibility that his crew is working at a hundred and ten percent!

The doors to the lift opened, and they walked out. Jim's quarters were first to come upon, and as he stopped, he quickly turned before his friend went too far. "Night, Spock!"

The Vulcan stopped short, turning to nod shortly. "Goodnight, Jim."

With that, the Captain entered into his quarters. The dark room lit up at his arrival, where he stalked to his drawer and changed into his nightware of fluffy blue pants with puppies all over them and a regular white top, before moving to brush his teeth then flopping down onto his bed. The man burrowed as deep into the covers, positioning himself into someplace comfortable, until a large sigh of satisfaction escaped him. His eyes shut, letting his mind drift.

"Computer, lights off."

————— 2:14 AM —————

"Computer, lights on." Such order was abided, for the area blinded him with its power. Blinking back the black dots that appeared in his vision, he looked closely at the ground, remaining deathly still.

It was almost inaudible when Leonard 'Bones' McCoy heard it. But the fact that he did, annoyed every nerve in his body.

Aroused from the sleep that he just got to about an hour before, because apparently heaven and hell were in cahoots to prevent that even happening! But, no. It was not the usual wakeup calls that the Chief Medical Officer has to deal with on this death machine he calls home, that can be ready to implode the moment there's something wrong with the warp core mind you, it was not the red alert that screams "You're gonna die if you don't fix the impossible!" with every scenario that this blasted ship faces almost every other week. No, it was none of this.

It was small, it was fast, and it was crawling at the corner of his room.

Bones stayed quiet, eyes groggily forcing to stay open as he tried to figure out what the hell broke into his room. The noise happened again, only to be followed by the unbelievable sound of… chewing?!

Oh hell no.

At the instant, the doctor sat straight up, trying to find the source. Only, when the bed creaked from his movements, the chewing stopped, enveloping the room in silence. Bones grunted in annoyance. This lasted for a minute too long, for McCoy made the move to stand, only to harshly stop at the beginning sounds of crunching. With ears trying to locate the area, Bones locked eyes to the right corner, where his old fashioned wooden hamper was positioned, knowing that it was the only visible thing that can even be remotely chewed through.

As stealthy as a damn cat, the Georgian doctor crawled out of bed, tip toeing to the corner and stopping at the source, with the unknown thing continuously eating without a care in the world. Well, Bones will definitely change that! No one messes up his sleep, he thinks as with one swift pull, he yanked the bin out, only his gaze was pulled at the tiny, furry, godforsaken creature of evil that scurried away. Right toward his feet. The human, ever quick, reacted just as quickly, yelping and staggering up and back onto his bed, watching as the little rodent made its way to a different direction of his room. And one thing growled out of his mouth, resounding his thoughts because no way was he sleeping with that thing in here.

"There will be war, filthy rat, and I shall be considered VICTOR!" McCoy bellowed, raising a fist into the air, most likely rattling the bones in that stupid little creepy crawly. He paused, frowning. "Maybe I should stop watchin' so many films…"

He glared at the floor, moving across his bed to grab the longest thing he could reach, such being a coat hanger, and held it toward the bottom of the bed, sure that it was there. "I'll have ya know, I dealt with pests like you down at my family's farm! You ain't seen nothin' yet." Bones repeatedly whacked as hard he could from below him, making sure to tap every corner and awaitedly watch for movement.

But there was none.

Hesitantly, the human slowly got off the bed to kneel down, peering down into the gap and expecting some sort of evidence of where the creature went, but it wasn't there. The doctor huffed, sitting back on his haunches, wondering where his furry enemy went off to. McCoy waited for the sounds of movement again, opting to remain vigilant as he grabbed his hanger again. Only, from the corner of his eye, he spotted something gray attached to it.

With a manly and totally not whimpy shriek, Leonard flailed back like a frightened chicken, flinging the hanger every which way, but no matter the power, the mouse remained. "Get off, you stupid rodent!" However, with his attention focused, McCoy didn't see the discarded hamper bin until he fell back, causing the door to slide open and forced him to collapse outside of his room with a loud oof!

"Damn it," he cursed, sitting up because ow. McCoy held up the fallen hanger, realizing in disdain that the mouse was gone, hearing the distant sound of chewing back in his room. "Damn you, MOUSE!"

——— 3:00 AM ———

Steady clicks on the wireless mouse were the only other noise coming from the heated dark quarters of the First Officer of the Enterprise. Spock needed to just finish up the rest of the report for star charting, which involved an intricate series of equations that involved converting distances from light years and finding the area of planets and/or asteroids are to the nearest star, base, and territory. Quite simple in the Vulcan's mind, but he was going ahead to review most of the science department's submitted projects and assignments, leaving him to just finish up this final task for the night. Rubbing his eyes some because working in the darkness with a bright screen in front of him is not the most comfortable scenario, useless third inner eyelids doing nothing to protect, Spock made sure his math was as correct as ever before hovering his mouse over the 'Submit' button and clicking it.

ERROR : DATA CONNECTION FAILED — the text came up not a moment later, its Standard issue number is fifteen size font mocking him.

Spock pressed his lips together, exiting out of the notification and pressing the submission button once more.

ERROR : DATA CONNECTION FAILED.

The Commander checked the settings of his terminal, exiting out of his open tabs first, making sure that the connection was still put and established within the Enterprise for space transmissions. He frowned, noticing that it was indeed offline. Spock made the move to report it, only for multiple thoughts to pop in his mind: one, he couldn't report it with the system disabled; two, he now recalls Lieutenant Uhura informing him of a new scheduled maintenance for the communications station that he was clearly not paying much attention to; and three, most importantly, all two days and sixteen hours filled with reports and department assignments that are required to be submitted have just been denied request, in fact, all previous attempts that he had earlier submitted now were erased, leaving Spock will several forms where all his and his scientists good hard work gone at the inconvenience of technology.

An eyebrow twitched in horror.

In a hurry, Spock shot out of his chair, moving around the dark room with ease, quickly getting out of his nightwear into his uniform before collecting several PADDs in his arms and speeding out of his quarters, rushing toward the labs. All forms are required to be turned in by 0500 hours, the maintenance ending at 0430, meaning that Spock has to not only complete eight very important two-hour assignments, reviews, and star charting all within that time frame, but make sure not to let the crew much less the Captain find out about his little unintentional mishap. After all, he was First Officer. It's absolutely ridiculous to have fallen for such circumstances.

Spock checked the time on the top PADD. It was 0320, only one hundred and eighty minutes to—

Suddenly, he ran straight into someone. Staggering back, Spock blinked in realization, quickly holding the tablets tight against his chest, attempting to look innocent. "Doctor McCoy," he greeted cautiously. "What are you doing awake at this early hour?"

"Oh, uh, nothin'. Just… nothin'." The man chuckled uneasily. Spock rose an eyebrow, finally noticing the various assortment of toxic sprays and glue traps in the man's arms.

"Your 'nothing' consists of devices that can trap or paralyze insects and small mammals?"

"... Yeah." An awkward moment passed. "Uh, anyway, what're you doin' up? Didn't the Captain tell ya to hit the hay?"

"How would you…" Spock shook his head. "No, he had. However, I had decided a… nightly patrol would be a surely method to… clear my mind. A simple variation of meditation, if you will."

The doctor slowly nodded, eyes narrowing. "Uh-huh. And this 'meditation' involves you carryin' eight different PADDs at three in the mornin' whilst in full uniform?"

"... Yes."

They stared at each other for another long moment, waiting for a continuous response, until they both abruptly cleared their throats, breaking the silence.

"Uh, see ya around, hobgoblin."

"Likewise, Doctor."

They scrambled away before the other had a word to say. Spock released a breath, checking the time again, and realized that the unexpected interaction took four minutes too long. With a disgruntled sigh, he ran the rest of the way to the lab, arriving at the cold, empty place, not a moment later. Scattering all PADDs so they faced him, Spock checked the first three assignments before he began to implement them, knowing that time was of the essence and not something he could waste.

The first three assignments consisted of foreign matter in space, residual contaminants from asteroids that had been remnants of a nova. After siphoning information from logs and charts from his scientists, Spock completed these in sixty-four minutes. The fourth, fifth, and sixth assignments needed to be completed in the medical bay, which revolved around biochemical investigations, assessing the psychotropic triggers in augmented DNA, and biological analysis of a star cluster. After rushing over there and evading the graveyard shift nurses, Spock took eighty eight minutes until those three were properly completed and reviewed.

Finally, only two assignments left and his final report. Unfortunately, such things that he could complete were only accessible through the bridge.

Spock restrained a yawn, rubbed his eyes once more, before jogging to the nearest lift, going up to the bridge — but then he stopped. He can't go to the top with the skeleton crew there. They will surely question his presence and take note of it for the Captain later. Narrowing his eyes in thought, the Commander stopped at the floor below the bridge and walked to the nearest port, connecting an available data PADD into the computer and began to more-or-less illegally hack into the science station on the bridge in order to transfer it into his tablet.

Only the moment Spock successfully entered the system, an alarm went off.

UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY.

How unfortunate.

———— 4:30 AM —————

Snorting awake, a hand shot out of the bed covers, uncoordinatedly searching and finding his blaring communicator. Snapping it open, he adjusted the signal and grumbled into the microphone. "Kirk, here."

"Captain, sorry to disturb you, but we've detected unauthorized entry in the ship's system." It was the acting captain, Jefferson, Jim thinks.

The situation caused him to sit up at the instant, eyebrows deeply furrowed. "What do you mean 'unauthorization'? What's happening to my ship?" He demanded.

"We're detecting someone hacking into the system, and they're onboard right now. We just don't know where."

Jim cursed, whipping off the covers and shooting out of the door, trying to get to the top as fast as he could. "Alright, I'm on my way. Try to pinpoint the signal and see what exactly they're looking for. Get another team to block the signal. We can't let them pass our defenses."

"Yes, sir. See you up here."

Jim exclaimed in exhaustion, jogging all the way up to the bridge using the stairs because someone was using the lift, arriving not really but totally out of breath. He arrived on the bridge, noting the several officers from the skeleton crew rapidly communicating with each other about the situation. Upon his arrival, the acting commanding officer rose from the center seat.

"Captain, we found out that they were trying to access the science station," Jeffersons reported curtly, not an ounce of exhaustion anywhere in sight. Lucky bastard, Jim couldn't help but think. "All study reports have been accessed, mostly ones made from the last week. We don't understand why, though. After all, they're just the same ones that any other starship records."

"Are they still connected?" Kirk asked, striding over to the crime scene, peering over the science officer.

"They are. As Jefferson said, they are somewhere in this ship, and their targeting is pretty fast, so we have I'd say… half an hour before the entire system is corrupted," she shrugged.

"And what would happen if that were to happen?"

The science officer crossed her arms. "They can take over the Enterprise, shut down our life support, control over the helm, and send us through the neutral zone and get us killed. Virtually everything."

"You say this so casually," Kirk sarcastically grinned. Turning to the rest of the bridge, he clasped his hands in affirmation. "Okay, everyone, I want this hacker caught and thrown into the brig. Keep this on the down low. We don't want them to know we're on their scent. I want Lieutenants Jefferson and Kerri to search the science labs then work your way up, Ensign Campbell I want you to continue to pinpoint where exactly the signal is coming from, and I'm going to search the deck below us, working my way down. Keep your phasers on stun and report anything that you find immediately."

"Should we inform the Commander?" Jefferson asked as they moved to the lift. The man pressed the button, causing Jim to sigh when it opened with ease.

"No. The guy needs his sleep, and I gave him a direct order not to meddle with work until morning," Kirk smirked. "If it's too serious, then we'll call him up. For now, like I said, keep things nice and calm."

———— 4:32 AM ————

"Son of a bitch!"

McCoy shakily stood up, grumbling more profanities as several glue traps were stuck all over his leg and exposed arm, refusing to unstick no matter how hard he tried to pull, which was an extremely painful process. Giving up with a disdainful sigh, the doctor glared at the spot where he had seen the mouse, only for an evil chuckle to bubble out of his throat at the sight of his prey.

"Oh, looks like someone tripped and fell into my trap." With a sadistic grin, Bones cautiously approached the stuck rodent, leaping back slightly when it twitched in an attempt to free itself. After realizing that it was truly caught, the man picked up the glue trap, smirking into the eyes of the mouse. "Now, what to do with ya? You made me waste time catchin' ya, spendin' my time when I coulda been sleepin' before my next shift! Do you know how tired I am? Do ya? No, ya don't! Now, I have to figure out what the hell what to do with ya…"

The doctor trailed off for a moment, interrupted with a large yawn. He blinked away the tears that gathered in his eyes before returning his glare at the tiny creature.

"See what you did?!" There was a tiny squeak in response.

Bones stomped out of the room again, only this time on a mission. One that he happily explained the mouse's inevitable doom. "I can't throw ya into the garbage disposal 'cause sensors will pick up yer lifeform and stop the process and I can't eject ya into space 'cause then the bridge will know about it and then Jim will ask why the hell I would send you into the freezing depths of space, and I can't take ya to medbay to make ya into a little creature of science 'cause I don't need ya runnin' loose!" He eyed the mouse as he hopped into the turbolift. "I know a perfect heartless computer who would be more than capable of findin' logic in usin' ya as a lab rat for his experiments."

McCoy clicked the button on the side, hearing it beep in response.

"Computer, locate First Officer Spock."

"Scanning… First Officer Spock, located on deck two," a voice came from the speakers overhead.

The doctor hummed, wondering what the Vulcan was doing all the way up there so early in the morning. Once the door opened, he stepped right out, intent on finding the hobgoblin. Only when he turned the corner, Bones stopped short seeing the Captain walking away from him, phaser in hand. The man stepped back, wondering what was going on. More importantly, he shouldn't let the Captain see about his little… issue and what he plans on sacrificing it to the First Officer. But he needs to go that way if he plans on finding Spock. McCoy bit his lip, looking around, only to be struck in a moment of genius at the vents above him. Not only will he be able to sneak past Jim, but have a clear vantage point on where Spock may be.

"Come on, ya little shit, we're goin' climbin'," Bones whispered before ducking into the nearest entryway and began his slither across the way.

——— 4:44 AM ———

When Spock realized that Jim was on the move, he knew he had to flee the area. Unfortunately, after scanning the ship, he realized that all turbolifts were now under lock down and he was stuck on the floor with his Captain. Logic states that he should come clean and report himself to his superior after breaking those regulations to begin with, but logic also mentions that he only has sixteen minutes until he can successfully turn in the assignments, evading the chances of punishment for himself and the science division. However, what was not advised is to be disobeying his superior. It was a conflicting battle indeed. But screw regulations, as Kirk would say it, as he will turn in these reports even if it kills him. Which is completely illogical since Spock cannot perish by simply performing tasks—

"I know you're down here! I'm picking up your signal. You won't be able to escape!" Jim's voice suddenly echoed down the hall. His hairs stood on end before he quickly scattered away. "Fess up now or the punishment will become more severe!"

"I do not doubt it," Spock murmured, skittering around the corner to pause and stare down at the PADD. He has to at least finish this section before proceeding, but his time is growing shorter by the second. Just let him finish this last report, then he will come clean. Until then, Spock will just have to evade Jim for the time being.

Upon hearing footsteps coming his way, Spock made a dash toward the opposite corridor, hoping that he could buy more time before the deadline.

——— 4:58 AM ———

Jim was hot on the hacker's tail.

He was now sprinting across the halls, trapping the enemy between a dead-end that will surely come up. Kirk already has the punishments in mind: suspension of duty for three days, direct complaint to Starfleet, maybe even the culprit will be arrested and sent to the brig; which all depends on what their intentions were in the first place. Nothing good and sensible, Jim decides, because who would be dumb enough to actually hack the ship's system. And the science station, no less. He can already hear his First Officer now, reprimanding the invader with his stabbing logic.

Only, when he approached the turn, the Vulcan in thought came calmly approaching, eyes trained down on a PADD he held. Jim furrowed his eyebrows, slowing to a stop. "Hey, Spock. Uh, what are you doing here?"

"Just walking, Captain," Spock answered quickly, continuing past him. "Goodbye, Captain."

"Right." Kirk shook his head before reverting back to his original task, only when he reached the dead-end, there was no one there. His eyebrows furrowed, knowing for a fact that his team on the bridge reported that he was directly behind the hacker, so how is there no one here? The only one that came from that direction was… Realization struck Kirk's features. "What the hell."

Turning around, Jim retraced his steps, finding his First Officer not-so discreetly jogging away. The Captain glared at the back of his head. "Commander Spock, get back here! That's an order!"

"I will as soon as I finish my assignments, sir!" Was the immediate response that threw Jim in a confusing spot. The man was just about to shout something more, until suddenly the ceiling caved in right on top of Spock, the vent collapsing and a familiar body sprawling out of it.

Jim rushed up to them, ultimately baffled. "What the hell?!"

"N-No," Spock groaned, flopping the shattered PADD on the ground in defeat.

"NOOO!" Bones dramatically shouted, flailing an empty glue trap around, frantically searching the area.

Seriously, what the hell.

"Can someone please tell me what's going on with you two?" Jim harshly demanded, walking around to properly face the two, causing both figures to flinch and avert their gazes. "Bones, Spock. Don't make me use rank against you. I want answers. Now."

"After you, Doctor," Spock quickly stated, wincing as the weight shifted off of them so they could both properly sit up.

"I-I was… well…" He sputtered.

"Quit acting like an infant, Bones, tell me," Jim crossed his arms like a disapproving parent. The southerner sighed heavily.

"I was tryin' to catch a loose mouse in my room. When I did catch it, I was tryin' to find the hobgoblin so he can use it fer his experiments or whatever, but I saw you comin' I knew you'd try to stop me because I know you like animals and, well, now I lost it." Bones held up a loose trap in defeat. "Hours of huntin' all fer nothin'!"

Jim smacked his hand against his forehead. "Dude, you could have just told me or at least reported it, I'm sure a crewman could have handled it. I wouldn't have gotten upset either way."

McCoy harrumphed. "I didn't need help."

"Okay, well, that explains that… I guess." Blue eyes dropped to exhausted brown ones. "Your turn, Commander. Fess up."

"I had miscalculated the time available to turn in my assignments along with everyone else in the science department's; due to my carelessness, there was a mistake with my terminal that erased all our work, so I attempted to finish it all before you were aware and turn it in by the deadline, but I failed to do so," Spock answered evenly, even when his eyes dropped in disappointment. If they didn't know any better, Jim and Leonard would have thought that the Vulcan sounded genuinely upset. The Commander straightened. "I accept all punishments that you warrant."

"Oh, Spock… You didn't have to hide that, you also could have told me and I totally would have let you finish up, maybe even helped you." Jim held out his hands, helping the two off the floor. "You both shouldn't have been nervous to come and talk to me, I'm your Captain. More importantly, I'm also your friend. I would have helped you both out, I swear. As for punishment, well, how about one day confined to quarters?" He was interrupted by a large yawn. "All this running around got me tired. Okay, let's get to the bridge, our shift starts soon."

"Yes, Captain," was the simultaneous response, if not a little delayed.

After reporting the issue to security, they called off the search and trudged their way to the turbolift. Almost collapsing inside, the trio slowly held onto the supports, practically slumping in on themselves from exhaustion. Even McCoy shut his eyes during the ride, somehow maintaining to keep upright throughout the trip. At least, they all tried to stay awake, but by the time the turbolift opened its doors again, no one stepped out immediately.

Spock rubbed his eyes, peering out through blurry vision to find the bridge empty, noting that the skeleton crew left for Alpha shift. He stepped out, intent on getting to his station, only to notice that no one followed him. In fact, they couldn't follow, not when the Captain and CMO of the Enterprise were fast asleep in the lift, the only thing supporting their upright position was their grips on the handles. Spock sighed through his nose, frowning when he realized that they were all too tired to work due to his idiocy. Walking over to the communication station, he waited to be connected then spoke.

"Bridge to Lieutenant Sulu, come in."

"Sulu, here," came his voice a moment later.

"The Captain, CMO, and I will be delayed from our stations due to… personal responsibilities that must be addressed," Spock slowly reported. "Will you be opposed to handling the comm while we are occupied?"

"Not a problem. I'll be up there in a minute. Tell the Captain I've got it all under control."

"Certainly. Thank you, Lieutenant. Bridge, out." Turning, Spock all-but dragged himself back to the lift, waiting for the doors to shut. "Deck four."

When they arrived, Spock adjusted the two humans so they were both balanced on either side of his shoulders as he walked them to the Captain's quarters. After inputting the command code that the man lent him, the Vulcan carried the two to the bed, automatically knocked their boots off, and dripped the blanket over them. As he finished up Kirk's side, the man's eyes groggily blinked up at him, causing him to pause.

"Best damn First Officer."

Spock blinked, and he couldn't help but quirk the ends of his lips. Saying nothing, the Vulcan dropped to the couch at the side, thinking that the reports no longer mattered, until his head fell back against the arm rest with an even sigh.

Goodnight.