Jim Kirk had to admit, it was extraordinarily embarrassing. In the six months since he and Spock had bonded, during their enthusiastic nocturnal activities, they had broken Jim’s headboard, Spock’s bed frame, two chairs, and one dining/games table (in fairness, that last one was nobody’s fault. Those tables were flimsy enough to collapse under a deck of cards and a bowl of dip, let alone a highly aroused human and an equally randy Vulcan). It was really, really embarrassing, especially since everyone who found out about it seemed to think it was Jim’s fault.
“Damn it!” Kirk was raging at the quartermaster, “I don’t think I’m asking for too much when I request a few pieces of sturdy furniture instead of that pressboard crap!” The Quartermaster quailed beneath his boss’ glare, but Chief Engineer Scott, who happened to be in the quartermaster’s office on an errand, ruined it by bursting into laughter. Kirk whirled to face him.
“Just what’s so funny, mister?” he hissed. Scotty just chuckled.
“Dinna blame the puir lad for yer problems, Captain,” he retorted. “Ye and Mr. Spock need ta face it—ye canna change the laws of physics! The furniture, she willna take much more o' this.”
Kirk stomped out. The grateful quartermaster gave Mr. Scott a bottle of very old brandy.