Author's Notes: Just a little Valentine's Day fic I whipped up. It's not well-edited, but I think it might be kind of cute. I understand the kink of the Captain's chair and the whole 'let's defile the sanctity of the bridge' thing, but I've been watching quite a bit of TOS lately, and there's some pretty unfortunate button placement if you're going to use it for that purpose...
Just a quickie while my brain reorders. It's trying to go back to Elysium-mode because of one annoying conversation that refuses to write itself in Depth. *sigh* Plus it got stuck on the second chapter of a two-shot I'm writing. I'm a bit blocked right now, methinks.
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Disclaimer: Star Trek is credited to many people, but I am not one of them.
"Jim, I do not think that this is a wise idea."
"Come on, Spock, lighten up. You can't tell me you haven't thought about it."
"…Regardless of my personal sexual fantasies, this is still a distinct breach of etiquette –"
"Nobody's gonna bother us, and I put in the Captain's override on the bridge door. How many chances do you think we're gonna have at this?"
"…I admit, the odds are indeed slim."
"So you'll do it?"
"I admit that it is a prime opportunity. I accept."
"You're amazing, Spock. Now get over here, you infuriating hobgoblin."
They were soon quite occupied, and neither noticed a small 'click' as Jim braced an elbow on the armrest of his chair.
Space was a weird, weird place.
As McCoy would say, it was disease and danger wrapped up in darkness and silence. As Pike would say, it was a place destined to end in early retirement. As Sulu screamed while running from angry pygmy aliens on the last away mission, it was too f*cking bizarre to be real.
Jim Kirk had made a career of weird, and two years into this five-year assignment, he'd seen enough crazy things to believe that nothing was impossible. He'd seen alien spores and mind control, androids and viruses, but none of them explained why his crew was acting so inexplicably unusual.
The day before had been Valentine's Day, and coincidentally the last day of shore leave, so most of the crew was just stumbling back aboard, hung over and sexually sated. At least, the lucky ones were. Jim himself hadn't gone ashore the day before, instead staying behind to finish some paperwork and oversee the skeleton crew that had remained.
Nonetheless, crewmembers began behaving strangely as soon as Jim left his quarters that morning. His yeoman had dropped a PADD on his foot, a passing Ensign had turned red and walked into a door, and there was enough whispering to deafen someone. When he'd walked into the Officers' Mess for breakfast, several crewmembers had choked on whatever they'd been eating, and he'd even heard a few giggles. He subtly checked to see if his fly was zipped and if he'd accidentally worn one of Spock's shirts again, but he looked perfectly normal. He'd even regenerated all of the hickies, so why were they laughing?
He shrugged and sat at his usual place, sipping gingerly at acid-like replicated coffee and gnawing at a protein bar. Halfway through, Scotty walked in and froze, staring at him with huge, scandalized eyes.
"Ach, Captain!" He exclaimed. "I know yesterday was Valentine's, and I know you've got a personal life, but really, some of us have actual work to do. You know how hard it is to concentrate on engine vibration frequencies when that caterwauling is goin' on? Please, next time, be a wee bit more respectful, eh?" With that said, he stomped over to the replicator and snatched the sandwich as soon as it materialized, refusing to look at Jim again.
"Um…" Jim said so eloquently after he left. "Okay, no idea what's going on…"
He finished his breakfast and stepped onto the bridge, nodding to Spock who sat at his station and glancing around the room. It seemed that not even his Alpha crew was immune. Uhura sat at her station, pale and tight-lipped, refusing to look at anybody. The various officers at their stations all fell silent and made strange faces at him. Sulu and Chekov seemed to be trying hard not to burst out laughing. Jim raised an eyebrow at all of them, causing one Ensign to snort loudly in an attempt to mask laughter. Then he sat down on the Captain's chair and glared at them all, disconcerted by the way they stared at him.
"Sulu, report."
Sulu swiveled back around with a smirk and read off their current speed and course and engine status. After he finished, he turned to Jim with his best poker face on. "So, Captain, I hear you like physical activity. I was wondering if you could show me any stretching exercises."
Jim was good with innuendo, but even he was a little stumped by the fact that the entire bridge minus him, Spock, and Uhura chortled at that.
"Keptin," Chekov piped up. "I am wondering if your chair is wery comfortable?" That earned another round of guffaws.
"Um, yes, yes it is." He stared around the room.
"And how far does it recline?"
"I fail to see how that is relevant, Ensign," Jim said, trying to maintain order.
"Is green your favorite color, sir?" Someone else asked.
Uhura suddenly took out her earpiece and hurried over to Spock, leading him to the lift while speaking in hushed, urgent tones. The door shut behind them for about a minute before it opened again and Spock rushed back into the room, followed by Uhura, his face flushed faintly green.
"Captain –"
He was interrupted by the lift opening again and revealing none other than Dr. McCoy storming in. "Jim, Spock, I need to speak with you right now!"
Jim raised a brow at Spock, who merely bowed his head and followed McCoy. Alarmed, Jim bit out, "Sulu, you have the conn," before following the two into the lift.
"Bones, what is this about?"
McCoy scrutinized him for a moment before sighing. "You really don't know? Damnit. Conference room 3, now."
They filed out of the lift and into the nearby room, locking the door behind them.
"Bones –"
"Don't talk, damnit, just listen. This has been circulating around the crew all day." McCoy stuck a datachip into the computer and began clicking to open things. "This was sent out as a Captain's transmission last night at 2136."
Sounds began coming from the computer, and Jim paled, Spock flushing brighter green.
"Mmm, yes, right there, Spock."
"Is this –pant- acceptable, Jim?"
"More than acceptable, Spock. Just – ahh!"
McCoy shut it off, looking ill himself. "It cuts off a few minutes in – you must've switched it on and off on accident. Now," he turned to stare them both down. "Sex in the Captain's chair? Really?"
"It was my idea," Jim hastily said. "I convinced Spock to go along with it. Don't point fingers at him."
"I'm not, but it takes two to tango, and now the entire crew's heard you two going at it, and if this gets out…"
"We will be disciplined for misconduct and fraternization while on duty," Spock said less as an answer and more as a proclamation of doom. He still refused to look up from the tabletop, but his blush was fading.
"Spock, calm down," Jim said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We'll figure this out. Bones, has everyone listened to this?"
"I don't know, Jim, but it's public record. Any ensign can access it from the hall terminals."
"Well, first off –" Jim sat down behind the computer and started tapping at it. Curious, Spock moved to stand over his shoulder. "I'm removing it from the database."
"Can you do that?" McCoy asked.
"I'm not supposed to, but I will. Done! Alright, now we make a shipwide announcement. This was officially a juvenile prank pulled by some hacker with a voice simulator, got it?"
"Jim, will the crew truly accept that excuse?" Spock asked.
"They'll have to, because Vulcans don't lie, right, Spock?" Jim winked at him.
Spock gave him the barest of smiles. "Of course. And 'what they do not know will not harm them,' as the saying goes."
McCoy shook his head. "Well, let's hope it clears up alright. Now, do I need to give you two the talk about safe sex and being careful of Spock's strength and all that?"
Jim shook his head vehemently. "No thank you, Bones. You can ream me out later. Right now, I have a Vulcan's honor to defend, because everyone knows that mine's pretty tarnished. Thanks for the heads up, though."
"Anytime, kid." McCoy waved them off, removing the audio chip from the computer and snapping it before throwing it into a nearby incinerator.
Jim and Spock walked onto the bridge, projecting their coolest disdain and command. The bridge crew gave a collective gulp and got back to their tasks vigorously.
Jim sat in his chair and flipped the little switch that started the whole mess. "Attention crew, this is Captain Kirk. It has just been brought to my attention that what appears to be audio evidence of a certain transgression has been circulating the ship. I would like to inform you that this is completely false. Ship records indicate that we were hacked last evening at around 2136 and that a damaging auditory message was broadcasted throughout the ship. The technology department will meet with me later to discuss upgrades to our security system, but in the meantime, please incinerate all copies of said message, unless you happen to have a kink for voice generation audio software. Any questions or concerns can be voiced to either me or Commander Spock. Kirk out."
He ended the transmission and glanced around at the staring faces.
"Sir –" Sulu spoke up. "Is that true? It was a fake?"
"Of course, Mr. Sulu." Jim smiled dangerously. "Though whoever that was, they have an awful sense of humor and an even worse taste in porn. Trust me, if we catch them, they will be in serious trouble."
The crew glanced back and forth uncertainly, but Jim's seriousness and Spock's usual unfazed stone face weakened their conviction that it had to be real. Within a few days, everyone was convinced that it had been some crazy hacker with an anti-Kirk complex, and within months, no one spoke of it.
That evening, Jim collapsed onto his bed, unsurprised to hear the bathroom door open and the quiet footsteps of his lover as he stole across the room. Spock lay down beside him, and they curled into each other.
"I am mortified," Spock said plainly.
"Yeah," Jim sighed. "Me, too. That was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, minus the first time my mom walked in on me jerking off."
Spock frowned and curled further into the warm embrace.
Jim's frown deepened, and when he next spoke, his voice was soft, "I'm sorry, Spock."
"Why?" Spock opened his eyes to stare into his blue ones.
"I felt bad because you gave up your shore leave day to be with me, and it was Valentine's Day, and I wanted it to be special, so I had to coerce you into trying the stupid chair, and it was just so idiotic of me, and I ended up broadcasting our personal business all over the ship." Jim sighed heavily. "I'm sorry."
"T'hy'la," Spock said. He gently caressed the side of Jim's face. "Do not berate yourself. You had the best intentions, and it was a delightful experiment, minus the ensuing drama." He hesitated before pressing a chaste kiss on his lips. "It was the most pleasurable Valentine's Day I have ever experienced."
Jim smiled. "I'm glad I didn't screw up too badly."
"You could never 'screw up' so badly as to lose my affection, t'hy'la." He smiled then, mischievously. "Though if you still feel the need to apologize, I know of many ways you could do so."
Jim grinned and moved to kiss him before freezing.
"Jim? What is wrong?" Spock pulled himself up onto his elbow, concerned.
Jim dug around in his uniform pockets for a moment before removing his communicator. "Here, give me yours." He took Spock's and his own and carefully laid them in the nightstand drawer before shutting it securely.
"Just in case," he said, grinning. "I don't think they'd buy the hacker excuse twice."
"Indeed not," Spock replied. "Now, for that apology?"
And they apologized enthusiastically for quite some time, and remained untouched by the absurdities of space for the rest of the night.
Fin