A/N: Spocky-kins is so very, very OOC in this, but it's just for kicks so if you don't like it, tough!


1. Struck

Spock hated this place. He didn't care about his Vulcan birthright, supressing his emotions or keeping them on a tight rein, he let them flow through him and felt his lip curl is disgust. He hated this place.

He had foolishly allowed one of the fourth year students who had been working as his research assistant, drag him along on what he had called 'pussy hunting'. Spock had no desire to search for a cat or, as Cadet Franklin had crudely alluded to, engage a female for intimacy. His brow creasing into a faint scowl that accentuated and deepened his sneer, Spock surveyed the crowd as it pulsated in time to a vulgar rhythm. The thick, pounding bass pouring from a pair of glistening speaker stacks straddling the club's ample stage, had permeated the hot air of the room with a seductive throb, and several of the dancers - Spock used the term extremely loosely - were taking full advantage of the suggestive beat. Finishing off his non-alcoholic drink, Spock watched askance as, in the middle of the dance floor, his very capable, very intelligent assistant squeezed himself close enough to his dance partner to actually join her in her already tight clothing.

Turning back to the bar, Spock ordered something a little stronger than the elderflower water he had been drinking previously. He could simply leave, in fact nothing would please him more as there were far too many people in this room and the music was louder than comfortable for his sensitive hearing; but Commander Teliv in her official posting as his commanding officer had ordered him to spend some social time with his assistant. Franklin was something of a prodigy and Teliv had encouraged - alright, ordered - Spock to develop a closer relationship with the young man. Closeness between colleagues was not something Spock took issue with per se, but he was not overly fond of the socialising aspect expected by his human counterparts. However, in a gesture of good faith - and with a possible court marshal in the offing if Teliv's glare while issuing the order was anything to go by - he agreed to join Franklin in his venture this evening.

That he had agreed to it, did not automatically follow that he had to enjoy it.

Returning his gaze to the dance floor, with drink in hand, Spock was doing his best to smooth the remaining traces of distaste from his face, when something caught his eye.

A group of women were dancing on the periphery of the crowd. They were all scantily clad and their movements were clearly designed to inflame the men that looked their way. One in particular caught his gaze; her skirt was too short and her top was too low, her black hair flowed decadently about her shoulders and her arms dripped with adornments. He found her alluring, despite the fact that she was dressed like a twentieth century street walker.

Spock sipped at his drink, watching the woman as she danced.

One of her friends, an Orion wearing even less than she was, pulled her close to bellow in her ear. The dark haired woman laughed, exposing an impossible length of throat as she did. She ran one hand through her hair and moved her head to follow her friend's outstretched arm; she was pointing to someone across the room. The woman stretched up onto tiptoes to wave over the crowd at the person the orion had pointed out. From the entrance of the club, a sandy haired man waved back before weaving his way through the crowd to meet her. The two embraced in a quick greeting and the man leaned down to shout in her ear, as the other woman had done, in order to be heard over the music. He stopped talking with a laugh as she playfully pushed him away.

Spock quirked an eyebrow; he hoped the woman wasn't in any sort of communications field, as she would most likely be hearing impaired after tonight, what with the deafening music and her friends' concerted efforts to burst her eardrums.

The man she had shoved was promptly pulled forward again into her personal space and the two began to dance together. Despite himself, Spock was intrigued as always by this side of human behaviour; she had pushed him away only to encourage his advances mere second later. Most contrary. He sipped again at his drink, beginning to feel a faint buzz from the alien intoxicant.

The song changed and the crowd stirred in excitement; clearly this was a popular track. The object of Spock's perusal turned so her back was to the blond man's front, then moved fluidly to the beat, pushing her hips back into his with every dominant beat.

Spock blinked.

The man's face spit into a grin and he took hold of the hips that were pushing back against him. As the two moved together and Spock's temperature began to climb at the floor show, he finally understood the appeal of this venue. Maybe it wasn't quite so bad after all; the decor was actually quite pleasant, the music was charming in its own way, and the palatable liquor in his glass was now absent...

He blinked again and stared into his empty glass; when had he drained it?

When he looked up again, the woman he had been watching was now looking at him. He froze like the proverbial deer in headlights he usually only saw in his classroom. The woman, admirably multitasking as she maintained her dance, ran her gaze over him and smirked slowly, clearly enjoying what she saw. Spock swallowed and raised his glass to moisten his suddenly dry throat, forgetting that it was empty.

I'm not paralyzed but I seem to be struck by you

Nyota loved this bar. The music was great, the drinks were cheap, and the guys could dance. Jim Kirk had finally decided to join them and was now attached to her backside as they danced. She was playing Wing-man for Gaila tonight; she knew her friend didn't need the help getting her claws into Jim, but it was nice to be able to flaunt her own femininity from time to time.

Speaking of flaunting...

Her gaze went to Tom Franklin's 'companion' for the night; the guy was standing alone at the bar while Tom was on the other side of the room, busily trying to get into Ensign Mwabe's pants. The man at the bar was clearly as straight laced as they came, with his no-nonsense haircut and stern expression.

There was something about nerdy men that hit her in all the dangerously right places.

The man was looking into his empty glass in confusion and Nyota grinned, he was cute! He looked up directly at her and she suddenly got the sense that he had been watching her. When his eyes widened upon realisation that she too was looking at him, she knew she was right.

She licked her lips, her target for the night acquired, and ran her gaze appreciatively over his body. He was tall, long limbed and slender, his shoulders and pectorals were not overly developed, but they strained the fabric of his shirt just enough to make it clear that strong muscle lay below. Oh dear God, he was nerdy and built, either aspect alone was enough to attract her, but together? Carnage.

Unwilling and unable to hold it back, Nyota let her lips curl into a satisfied, seductive smirk, letting him know that she was interested. The man blinked at her, frozen in place, and Nyota realised that she was going to have to force him to make a move, because he sure wasn't making one on his own. Turning around in Jim's loose embrace, she looped her arms around his neck and moved their hips together, holding the stranger's gaze the whole time.

I want to make you move because you're standing still

Jealousy was not an emotion Spock was familiar with, but if the cold stone that had sunk into his belly was any indication, it was not a pleasant one. In dismay he watched the blond man grin as he slid his hands down to cup the woman's buttocks. She was still looking at him, a challenge in her expression that read 'don't like it? Then do something about it'. His blood had gone cold and something deep inside him demanded that he march over and wrench the other man away from his prize.

Struggling to keep the violent urge in abeyance, Spock allowed himself a luxury that he rarely indulged in; he allowed every drop of the abrupt lust that surged through him to smolder in his expressive, human eyes. The woman cocked her head in interest, and he smirked internally in relief; clearly lowering his customary mask for a second had been successful if she was able to read him from her current distance.

If your body matches what your eyes can do

You'll probably move right through me on my way to you

Nyota shivered as the stranger reacted to her flirting with a smouldering, hungry look. His chin had lowered so he could gaze at her through his brows, his eyes were dark, dangerous and his attraction blazed in the depths.


If any other man in the room thought he had a chance with Nyota Uhura tonight, they were going to be disappointed; her nerd was not only tall, dark and built, he was HOT.