Shall I?
A/N: I don't like Valintines day. I really, really don't. But I can't resist trying to write a
V-day fic. Warnings of slash, and possible het, if I have the time and the patience. Also some
'language'.
It was Valintines day. Gods, preserve us. One of those horrible days where all the people who
have managed to discover love flaunt it in the directions of all the people who haven't. It was,
as McCoy said, rather cheerily, enough to drive a man to drink. Indeed it was. Some of the more
bummed-out officers, namely Kirk, Sulu and Scotty had joined McCoy in his 'I'm-celebrating-
Valintines-Day-my-way!' celebration. Essentially, they planned on drinking. What else? Now, why
were they bummed-out? Well that's simple. They were either extremeley unlucky in love or
harbouring some deep wounding unrequieted love. Well, McCoy didn't believe in love this month
(since is was the month in which the 'celebration of love' occured) and was fine and dandy. Kirk
was there because he wasn't getting laid. No woman, or man wanted anything to do with him. Scotty
was in love with the ship, and it couldn't express it's love back and Sulu had a 'thing', as he
had pet-named it, for Chekov. Sulu wasn't actually there to drink, he was spending the time
trying to figure out how to sweep the navigator off his feet. And suckering all the help from
McCoy he could get. (He had asked McCoy becuase there was no way in hell he was asking Kirk, who
wasn't getting any, where would his advice get him? And not Scotty, because Scotty was in love
with a big hunk of metal that moved.) McCoy was attempting to be helpful, so far it had involved
chocolate and flowers and candles, and no in that paticular order. Sulu was toying with the idea
of cherry blossoms, because cherry blossoms were cool and pretty and in Japan they had a festival
for them. Even though he had been born and probably raised in San Fransisco, cherry blossoms
still sounded fun. In fact, after a few comments about Shakespeare from Spock who'd appeared
suddenly, wanting to talk to McCoy about something for some reason, Sulu had it. He rushed off
and went to replicate a whole shitload of cherry blossoms. Oh boy was Chekov in for a suprise.
McCoy was now toying with the idea of going up to the bridge to releave Chekov of his duties in
an hour or so. But he had to deal with Spock first. So he left his quarters, to a couple of
lonely almost drunks and followed Spock, who was walking in the direction of the sickbay. He
thought.
He had indeed been walking to the sickbay, but by the time McCoy had gotten there he was gone.
All that was there was a red rose and a sheet of paper. This was odd, paper was practically
obsolete. Although it was very relieable for when there was a systems failure and the computers
crashed. But nobody said anything about that. McCoy picked up the paper and began to read.
It read:
'Shall I compare thee to a summers day?
Thou are more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possesion of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.'
-William Shakespeare, Sonnet XVIII
McCoy was puzzled. This was sonnet (as you could see) and Spock had led him to it. So did that
mean it was Spock's? McCoy had never seen the Vulcan write before, because, as stated, paper was
practically obselete. Hmmm... McCoy shrugged, grabbed the rose and the poem and headed back to
his quarters. Whoever it was from, it was rather sweet. He'd have to frame it and put it above
his bed or something. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? McCoy chuckled to himself, it
couldn't be from Spock. That was preposterus. This was a -love- poem, for crying out loud. Spock
did not do love poems. Hell, he didn't do love. Although, McCoy added in afterthought, this being
from Spock wouldn't be too bad. He continued to entertain this fantasy until he found himself
outside his quarters, where he shut his thoughts up and prepared for the worst.
The worst did not come, Kirk and Scotty were sitting, almost dozing with half full (half empty?)
glasses of various liquors. They spotted him through their haze and waved, even though he was
right in from of them. Kirk spotted the rose.
"Ooh!" He said loudly, not loud enough to be shouting, but too loud to just be talking. "Who gave
you that?"
"I don't know." McCoy replied, sauntering in the direction of his bedroom. "But it's none of your
business anyway."
"D'ye know what I think?" Scotty said, equally loud, to Kirk. "I think Mr. Spock gave it to 'im."
"Mr. Spock?" Kirk replied, looking doubtful. "I don't think so. Valintine's day is so... so...
not Mr. Spock."
"Aye, sir, but love does strange things, strange things to humans. And Mr. Spock is half human."
Scotty replied, McCoy smiled from his room. "I mean, sir, I stuck red roses all around the engine
room to prove my love for a lady." McCoy snickered and walked back into the room. "What do you
think you're laughing at, laddie."
"Nothing, nothing at all." McCoy said, sitting down, he noticed, absently, that he had brought
the rose with him and was playing with it. Scotty and Kirk made random comment about everyting
and anything. From music of the 20th century, to sardines, to Russia (they were thinking about
what Sulu was doing at the moment and that brought on Chekov and that brought of Russia), and
then they returned to the rose. McCoy put in the occasional comment, but had started tuning them
out. Then, whatever the equivelent of a doorbell on that ship is, rang. "Yeah, whatever, come in,
whoever you are. Join the merriment. Shut these idiots up. Quickly!" McCoy called, he was still
dead sober, he didn't think he deserved to drink, he wasn't sad. He wasn't lonely. Well, no, he
was extremely lonely, but he had a Shakespeare quoter and a flower giver. The doors opened and in
walked Spock. "Hello Spock, what honour do we have that we might have the privledge of your
presence?"
Spock took a step in.
"Ah." He said softly, sending a shiver down McCoy's spine. "I see you are still up at your...
'festivities'. I shall return at a later time-"
"Oh please!" McCoy said, "Festivities? This is pathetic. I can't get these two out of my quarters.
Maybe they'll leave if you need me. Tell me Spock, do you need me?"
"In... a way." Spock said, almost looking thoughtful and then almost looking devious. Without
changing his expression. McCoy gave him a look. A 'you're-better-at-getting-him-to-listen-to-you
-so-DO-SOMETHING' look. Spock sort of nodded. "Captain. They need you right away on the bridge.
There is an emergency. Code C. You have got to help them Captain." Spock looked at Scotty. "Mr.
Scott, I believe the engines are getting lonely. No one is... 'fussing' over them, I am certain
they are lonely without you."
Mr. Scott and Kirk jumped up and rushed off to their normal stations. After the door closed McCoy
regarded Spock with an amused expression.
"Code C, Spock? What in gods name is Code C?" He asked, Spock sort of not-half-smiled.
"Code C, Doctor, is the code I have decided to use when Mr. Chekov is let off duty early by you."
Spock said, a matter of factly.
"But I didn't let Chekov off early- oh... did Sulu do it using my id and stuff?" McCoy asked,
trying not to crack up.
"It seems so. The explanation said something about cherry blossoms. Care to explain?" Spock asked,
McCoy smirked.
"Not really." McCoy said, knowing full well what Sulu and Chekov were probably doing right now.
He wondered wither they were using the cherry blossoms, the feathers or the candles. But decided
he wouldn't ask. He usually found out against his will anyway. Sigh, some of the things he knew.
*shudder*
"I see. Am I right in the assumption that you are wondering what it is I want?" Spock asked,
taking a step foreward into McCoy's quarters and picking of the rose. He twirled it in his hand a
couple times adn looked at McCoy. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"
It clicked then. Spock had written it. The Shakespeare sonnet. The rose and.. and.. of course! It
clicked in McCoy's head. It was Valintine's day! The day of love! Ha-ha! Spock was... Spock was...
There was a moment of silence, Spock stood there, tense, wanting to know if he was going ot get
rejected or not. McCoy stood there, about to pass out. Was Spock expressing -love-? Spock? McCoy
nodded, not sure what to say. That, however, was enough for Spock. Said Spock swept over and gave
McCoy the first kiss he wouold remember even when he was dead. One that spoke volumes without a
noise. One that captured all of the love that he had never experienced in all those V-days. In
other words, it was a really, really good kiss. And the kiss led to other things. Things that
involved candles and chocolate sauce and leather. But I'm not going to talk about that, because
I'm supposedly not allowed ot post stuff like that of ff.net. Oh well, someday.
So, Valintine's day wasn't too bad. Kirk never figured out what Code C was. Scotty discovered a
new part of the ship and decided that was the Enterprise's way of showing her love. Chekov and
Sulu enjoyed their romp in the cherry blossoms. In fact, Chekov's bed is rather pink and sticky
and smells of cherry blossoms. Spock appeared on the bridge the next day with three rather large
hickeys. Two on his neck and one on his left ear. McCoy was just very pleasant towards his staff.
People wondered but didn't ask. In general, it was a happy happy ending.
Well, until next Valintines day.
A/N: Happy Valintine's day all. I, in 'celebration' of V-day died my hair red. So I'm being
festive. I really do dislike this season. So cold and lovey dovey, but god it makes fun fanfics.
A/N: I don't like Valintines day. I really, really don't. But I can't resist trying to write a
V-day fic. Warnings of slash, and possible het, if I have the time and the patience. Also some
'language'.
It was Valintines day. Gods, preserve us. One of those horrible days where all the people who
have managed to discover love flaunt it in the directions of all the people who haven't. It was,
as McCoy said, rather cheerily, enough to drive a man to drink. Indeed it was. Some of the more
bummed-out officers, namely Kirk, Sulu and Scotty had joined McCoy in his 'I'm-celebrating-
Valintines-Day-my-way!' celebration. Essentially, they planned on drinking. What else? Now, why
were they bummed-out? Well that's simple. They were either extremeley unlucky in love or
harbouring some deep wounding unrequieted love. Well, McCoy didn't believe in love this month
(since is was the month in which the 'celebration of love' occured) and was fine and dandy. Kirk
was there because he wasn't getting laid. No woman, or man wanted anything to do with him. Scotty
was in love with the ship, and it couldn't express it's love back and Sulu had a 'thing', as he
had pet-named it, for Chekov. Sulu wasn't actually there to drink, he was spending the time
trying to figure out how to sweep the navigator off his feet. And suckering all the help from
McCoy he could get. (He had asked McCoy becuase there was no way in hell he was asking Kirk, who
wasn't getting any, where would his advice get him? And not Scotty, because Scotty was in love
with a big hunk of metal that moved.) McCoy was attempting to be helpful, so far it had involved
chocolate and flowers and candles, and no in that paticular order. Sulu was toying with the idea
of cherry blossoms, because cherry blossoms were cool and pretty and in Japan they had a festival
for them. Even though he had been born and probably raised in San Fransisco, cherry blossoms
still sounded fun. In fact, after a few comments about Shakespeare from Spock who'd appeared
suddenly, wanting to talk to McCoy about something for some reason, Sulu had it. He rushed off
and went to replicate a whole shitload of cherry blossoms. Oh boy was Chekov in for a suprise.
McCoy was now toying with the idea of going up to the bridge to releave Chekov of his duties in
an hour or so. But he had to deal with Spock first. So he left his quarters, to a couple of
lonely almost drunks and followed Spock, who was walking in the direction of the sickbay. He
thought.
He had indeed been walking to the sickbay, but by the time McCoy had gotten there he was gone.
All that was there was a red rose and a sheet of paper. This was odd, paper was practically
obsolete. Although it was very relieable for when there was a systems failure and the computers
crashed. But nobody said anything about that. McCoy picked up the paper and began to read.
It read:
'Shall I compare thee to a summers day?
Thou are more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possesion of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.'
-William Shakespeare, Sonnet XVIII
McCoy was puzzled. This was sonnet (as you could see) and Spock had led him to it. So did that
mean it was Spock's? McCoy had never seen the Vulcan write before, because, as stated, paper was
practically obselete. Hmmm... McCoy shrugged, grabbed the rose and the poem and headed back to
his quarters. Whoever it was from, it was rather sweet. He'd have to frame it and put it above
his bed or something. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? McCoy chuckled to himself, it
couldn't be from Spock. That was preposterus. This was a -love- poem, for crying out loud. Spock
did not do love poems. Hell, he didn't do love. Although, McCoy added in afterthought, this being
from Spock wouldn't be too bad. He continued to entertain this fantasy until he found himself
outside his quarters, where he shut his thoughts up and prepared for the worst.
The worst did not come, Kirk and Scotty were sitting, almost dozing with half full (half empty?)
glasses of various liquors. They spotted him through their haze and waved, even though he was
right in from of them. Kirk spotted the rose.
"Ooh!" He said loudly, not loud enough to be shouting, but too loud to just be talking. "Who gave
you that?"
"I don't know." McCoy replied, sauntering in the direction of his bedroom. "But it's none of your
business anyway."
"D'ye know what I think?" Scotty said, equally loud, to Kirk. "I think Mr. Spock gave it to 'im."
"Mr. Spock?" Kirk replied, looking doubtful. "I don't think so. Valintine's day is so... so...
not Mr. Spock."
"Aye, sir, but love does strange things, strange things to humans. And Mr. Spock is half human."
Scotty replied, McCoy smiled from his room. "I mean, sir, I stuck red roses all around the engine
room to prove my love for a lady." McCoy snickered and walked back into the room. "What do you
think you're laughing at, laddie."
"Nothing, nothing at all." McCoy said, sitting down, he noticed, absently, that he had brought
the rose with him and was playing with it. Scotty and Kirk made random comment about everyting
and anything. From music of the 20th century, to sardines, to Russia (they were thinking about
what Sulu was doing at the moment and that brought on Chekov and that brought of Russia), and
then they returned to the rose. McCoy put in the occasional comment, but had started tuning them
out. Then, whatever the equivelent of a doorbell on that ship is, rang. "Yeah, whatever, come in,
whoever you are. Join the merriment. Shut these idiots up. Quickly!" McCoy called, he was still
dead sober, he didn't think he deserved to drink, he wasn't sad. He wasn't lonely. Well, no, he
was extremely lonely, but he had a Shakespeare quoter and a flower giver. The doors opened and in
walked Spock. "Hello Spock, what honour do we have that we might have the privledge of your
presence?"
Spock took a step in.
"Ah." He said softly, sending a shiver down McCoy's spine. "I see you are still up at your...
'festivities'. I shall return at a later time-"
"Oh please!" McCoy said, "Festivities? This is pathetic. I can't get these two out of my quarters.
Maybe they'll leave if you need me. Tell me Spock, do you need me?"
"In... a way." Spock said, almost looking thoughtful and then almost looking devious. Without
changing his expression. McCoy gave him a look. A 'you're-better-at-getting-him-to-listen-to-you
-so-DO-SOMETHING' look. Spock sort of nodded. "Captain. They need you right away on the bridge.
There is an emergency. Code C. You have got to help them Captain." Spock looked at Scotty. "Mr.
Scott, I believe the engines are getting lonely. No one is... 'fussing' over them, I am certain
they are lonely without you."
Mr. Scott and Kirk jumped up and rushed off to their normal stations. After the door closed McCoy
regarded Spock with an amused expression.
"Code C, Spock? What in gods name is Code C?" He asked, Spock sort of not-half-smiled.
"Code C, Doctor, is the code I have decided to use when Mr. Chekov is let off duty early by you."
Spock said, a matter of factly.
"But I didn't let Chekov off early- oh... did Sulu do it using my id and stuff?" McCoy asked,
trying not to crack up.
"It seems so. The explanation said something about cherry blossoms. Care to explain?" Spock asked,
McCoy smirked.
"Not really." McCoy said, knowing full well what Sulu and Chekov were probably doing right now.
He wondered wither they were using the cherry blossoms, the feathers or the candles. But decided
he wouldn't ask. He usually found out against his will anyway. Sigh, some of the things he knew.
*shudder*
"I see. Am I right in the assumption that you are wondering what it is I want?" Spock asked,
taking a step foreward into McCoy's quarters and picking of the rose. He twirled it in his hand a
couple times adn looked at McCoy. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"
It clicked then. Spock had written it. The Shakespeare sonnet. The rose and.. and.. of course! It
clicked in McCoy's head. It was Valintine's day! The day of love! Ha-ha! Spock was... Spock was...
There was a moment of silence, Spock stood there, tense, wanting to know if he was going ot get
rejected or not. McCoy stood there, about to pass out. Was Spock expressing -love-? Spock? McCoy
nodded, not sure what to say. That, however, was enough for Spock. Said Spock swept over and gave
McCoy the first kiss he wouold remember even when he was dead. One that spoke volumes without a
noise. One that captured all of the love that he had never experienced in all those V-days. In
other words, it was a really, really good kiss. And the kiss led to other things. Things that
involved candles and chocolate sauce and leather. But I'm not going to talk about that, because
I'm supposedly not allowed ot post stuff like that of ff.net. Oh well, someday.
So, Valintine's day wasn't too bad. Kirk never figured out what Code C was. Scotty discovered a
new part of the ship and decided that was the Enterprise's way of showing her love. Chekov and
Sulu enjoyed their romp in the cherry blossoms. In fact, Chekov's bed is rather pink and sticky
and smells of cherry blossoms. Spock appeared on the bridge the next day with three rather large
hickeys. Two on his neck and one on his left ear. McCoy was just very pleasant towards his staff.
People wondered but didn't ask. In general, it was a happy happy ending.
Well, until next Valintines day.
A/N: Happy Valintine's day all. I, in 'celebration' of V-day died my hair red. So I'm being
festive. I really do dislike this season. So cold and lovey dovey, but god it makes fun fanfics.