It was another ordinary day aboard the USS Enterprise and Captain Kirk was sitting in his chair, watching the stars fly by as they travelled to their next assignment. He lazily took a clipboard and signed the report, before handing it back to his yeoman with barely an acknowledgement of her existence. She narrowed her eyes and let out a barely audible sigh, before self-consciously pulling down her dress and leaving the bridge to get on top of a mountain of paperwork, fully aware of the male officers' gaze as she went.
As Kirk twirled his chair from side to side, he noticed that someone was missing from the bridge. Where was Spock? He didn't have long to ponder, however; the science officer was in the turbolift.
"Spock!" exclaimed Kirk, with a barely hidden chuckle as Spock walked onto the bridge. With his hand on his chin, only just covering his smirk, he said, "That's a -" he cleared his throat "- an interesting choice of outfit."
Spock raised an eyebrow. He looked down at the blue dress he was wearing, and back to Jim.
"I fail to see why you find this so amusing, Captain."
"Well, Mr Spock, it is... Unusual for male officers to choose to wear that particular uniform," said Kirk, waving his hand in Spock's direction.
Spock went and sat demurely at his station, ignoring the captain's grinning face.
"If you insist upon forcing me to defend my choice of clothing, Captain, I merely made the logical decision." He stood up. "The skirt allows my legs more freedom of movement and my body is better able to regulate my temperature when I am working next to a computer which has a tendency to over-heat. Frankly, I do not understand why this uniform is not more popular among the rest of the crew."
Kirk nodded with a non-committal hum of agreement. He looked Spock up and down, before saying, "Turn around, Spock."
A little confused, the Vulcan obliged and Jim nodded, this time more approvingly. "Well, I think it's a good look."
Spock was quiet for a moment. "Jim – did you just examine my posterior?"
Jim's eyes widened and he cleared his throat. He looked a little sheepish as he said, "Well I – you must know what those dresses do for your figure. They're designed to make people stare."
The bridge was silent, the rest of the crew listening to their conversation. Uhura pulled down her skirt, glaring and shaking her head at the captain.
"Well," said Spock, sitting back down at his station. "Perhaps this is why this uniform remains unpopular on the Enterprise."
"What do you mean, Spock?" said Jim.
"For one, you do not take me seriously," he replied. "Secondly, you find it acceptable, desirable even, to look at me in a way which would be unacceptable if I were wearing my usual trousers."
Jim now looked truly uncomfortable, speechless and flailing his hands in what looked like a desperate attempt to justify himself through interpretative dance. Uhura smiled as he squirmed.
"I see you are unable to deny it, Captain," said Spock.
"Alright, Mr Spock," he said curtly. "You keep your dress; I'll keep my eyes to myself."
"I hope you will show the rest of your crew the same courtesy," he said, and turned around to finally begin his work.
The meaning of Spock's words didn't fully sink in until Kirk's yeoman returned with another clipboard of paperwork for him to sign. Jim's eyes wandered up her shapely legs to the bottom of her skirt, which was short enough for her Starfleet issue underwear to peep out at him. Ashamed of himself, he forced his gaze up to her face and handed the clipboard back and managed to spit out a "Thank you, Yeoman" as she left.