October 27th, 1962:

A cauldron bubbled and burst above the din.

I was working in the lab late one night, when my eyes beheld an eerie sight... the music began.

The world was ending and Captain James T. Kirk needed a drink.

Jim wasn't the only one with that idea. The bar was fuller than he'd ever seen it. It was crammed with people dancing their fear away and he was lucky he managed to land a seat at the bar - the walls were lined with people standing around, nursing their drinks. He even spotted a colonel he recognized from the base waving his arms at a pretty young lady like they could swat away the bomb. But Jim didn't feel much like dancing.

… He did the mash, he did the monster mash…

That song was everywhere, he couldn't get away from it. He'd probably have it stuck in his head for the rest of his life, at this rate.

The monster mash! The backup singers chimed in.

Jim downed the last of his latest drink and scanned the crowd in the hopes that maybe he'd spot a beauty of his own who might be able to take his mind off of it all for a little while, at least. His eyes glided over the mob and the orange and black streamers.

… From my laboratory in the castle east, to the master bedroom where the vampires feast...

Suddenly, he spotted a man's face peeking out above the crowd, the sort of face Jim wasn't likely to forget. He wasn't conventionally handsome and there was a stiffness to his flat expression that made him look even more uncomfortable than the desperate dancers or the glassy-eyed men lost in despair. He wasn't far from the door and Jim suspected he was sorely tempted to leave.

… The ghouls all came from their humble abodes to get a jolt from my electrodes...

Still, there was something striking about him. There was a sharp intelligence in his eyes, accentuated by angled eyebrows. His eyes met Jim's and somehow he managed to look bemused despite his clear discomfort. Jim couldn't help but grin when the woman sitting next to him conveniently stood. He waved the man over to the bar and offered him the newly vacated seat with joking gallantry.

… They did the mash...

The man's eyes narrowed and for a moment Jim was afraid he was going to refuse, but after just a few seconds of hesitation he picked his way through the crowd, over to the bar and accepted the offered seat.

… They did the monster mash...

Jim waved over the bartender and ordered them a pair of drinks. "My treat," he said over the music and drunken conversation.

The man quirked an eyebrow at him and said with a hint of an accent, "That is unnecessary." His voice was stiff like his expression, but it didn't seem like he was trying to be rude, just like he thought it didn't make any sense.

"It's nothing," Jim waved it off. "The way the brass are talking, I doubt we'll last long enough for it to matter."

The man gave a sharp nod and accepted the drink.

The monster mash!

"So, what's your name?" Jim asked after another sip of his own. "Captain James Kirk at your service, but my friends call me Jim. I'm a test pilot with the air force."

He held out a hand to shake and the man accepted it.

"Mr. Spock," he introduced himself. "I am employed by the Aeronautics and Space Administration."

They did the mash!

"Do you dance, Mr. Spock?" Jim asked, though he knew what the answer would be.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him again.

… It was a graveyard smash...

Jim gave him a wry smile in return. "I don't care for the song myself. Too foreboding, if you'll believe it."

They did the mash!

"Foreboding, Captain Kirk?" Spock asked.

"Call me Jim," he insisted.

… It caught on in a flash…

"Everything sounds like the bomb these days," Jim said more seriously.

Spock nodded as though he was considering the comparison.

They did the mash!

Jim really needed that distraction. He leaned in toward Spock, a mischievous grin spread across his face. Spock's eyes widened as he noticed Jim getting closer, but he didn't back away.

When their foreheads were nearly touching, Jim spoke in a low voice, "This could be our last night on Earth. It would be a shame to spend it alone."

For a moment they remained as though spellbound, their eyes locked on the other's. Then Spock regained his composure and put a little distance between them. His eyes wandered away from Jim's, but they didn't seem to focus on anything else, instead they seemed to cast about as though searching the room for a response. Jim leaned back too, but he did not look away.

Finally, Spock said, "If you are correct, I would prefer to spend my remaining hours somewhere a little quieter. I believe I will depart, but I would not object to your company if you are so inclined."

"Sure, let's go."

Jim paid the tab and then they waded through the crowd toward the exit. They found each other again at the door and stepped out into the blustery evening.

The chill wind bit into any skin left bare and pulled at their sweaters and coats. The few wrinkled leaves that remained on the trees rattled and those that had already fallen swirled in plumes of red and brown. It was well past sunset, but as their eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cloudy dark grey sky seemed to glow orange with the reflected lights of the city.

They huddled close for warmth as they shuffled down the empty streets. The wind howled around them, but they didn't seem to mind. Their eyes met. Jim grinned and Spock looked rather pleased with himself.

"It strikes me as unlikely," Spock remarked, "But if we are destroyed tomorrow, I at least have the small consolation of having met you today."

Note: Have a happy, nuclear war free Halloween!

A lot of the inspiration for this fic and my unusual interpretation of the Monster Mash are thanks to this fabulous Cuban Missile Crisis Musical Medley (youtu dot be/pqLnT4FD0wE), which I encourage everyone to go check out!