Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except a batch of my own pumpkin seeds.

Warnings: Fluff so fluffy you'll get a cavity. Mild swearing.

Summary: Jim and Spock do Halloween. Not like that, you sick... get your minds out of the gutter, I swear.

A/N: Um. Happy Halloween, everybody. (It's my favorite holiday, I had to write something.


Jim and Spock were relaxing in their quarters (Jim was staring at the passing stars, Spock was reading something on his PADD) when Jim suddenly sat up straight in his chair.

"What's the Earth date today, Spock?"

The Vulcan glanced up, thought for 1.7 seconds, responded flatly "October 31st, 2261," and went back to reading.

"Holy shit," Jim said, then bounded out of his chair and ran out the room. Spock raised an eyebrow, but didn't even bother to ask. He was used to his Captain engaging in irrational behavior, and refused to give Jim the satisfaction of knowing he was often confused when dealing with the younger man.

However, when Jim reentered 10.7 minutes later, weighed down with what was easily a thirty pound pumpkin, Spock was unable to keep his eyes from widening ever so very slightly. Jim dropped the pumpkin straight in the middle of the room, gazed at it (extremely pleased) for a moment, and then glanced around the room, thinking.

And when Jim walked to the wall where Spock had mounted and displayed his small collection of Vulcan ceremonial weapons and began carefully inspecting the three knives, Spock couldn't contain himself anymore.

"Jim, may I enquire to the nature of your actions?" He lowered the PADD in his hands and waited for his explanation.

Jim reached out and plucked one of the knives from the wall. "I got the biggest pumpkin the replicator could handle. It'd be better if it was bigger, but, ya know, we're on the wrong side of the galaxy to get a real one." He flexed the blade in his hand, shook his head, placed it back on the wall, and reached for the next one.

"That does not explain—"

"We're going to make a jack-o-lantern." Jim interrupted. "For Halloween."

Spock blinked, and Jim stared at him.

"Tell me you know what a jack-o-lantern is," Jim said, a grin growing on his face. "Because they are awesome."

Spock let out a heavy breath that was not a sigh and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I do not know what a jack-o-lantern is. Please enlighten me."

Jim's grin grew wider. "You know Halloween, right? I mean, it's not that widely celebrated anymore, but I remember a couple parties at the Academy."

Spock nodded slightly. "I am aware of the holiday. The festivities often involved cadets dressing in disguise and partaking in large amounts of inebriants," he said with mild distaste.

Jim's eyes widened to match his grin. "Please tell me you dressed up and went to Halloween parties. And also that there're pictures."

Spock shifted in his seat. "I am afraid you must be disappointed in this desire. I did not engage in such frivolous—"

"All right, all right, I know, 'humans are ridiculous and illogical,' but! Jack-o-lanterns! Are awesome." Jim paused, thought for a moment, then held up the knife he was still holding and gestured with it toward the pumpkin. "Can I use this knife?"

Spock stared at him for a moment, then finally placed his PADD on the table in front of him. He leaned forward, curious despite himself. "For what purpose do you plan on utilizing my hunting knife?"

Jim smiled. "To carve my pumpkin."

Spock sat back and waved his hand in a 'go ahead' gesture to Jim, who grinned for a second before refocusing on the pumpkin on the floor. He circled it, looking for the best place to make his first incision.

"Jack-o-lanterns," he said, kneeling and sliding the knife into the top of the pumpkin, near the stem, "are an old Earth tradition for the fall." He slid the knife in a circle around the stem, pleased that the incredible sharpness of the instrument made this job easier.

"They were originally a tradition from Ireland. People carved faces in potatoes and turnips and beets to ward off the evil spirits that supposedly rose during All Hallow's Eve. When the practice came to the United States, people realized pumpkins were better to carve with." He grunted slightly, made the final cut, and levered the top of the pumpkin off.

"All Hallow's Eve evolved into Halloween, and people kept carving jack-o-lanterns because they're fun." He glanced up at Spock, who was watching the proceedings with a raised eyebrow, and smiled gently. "C'mere, help me with this part."

Spock stood and walked over, then kneeled next to his mate. "How should I assist you?"

Jim bounced up and rummaged in their eating area for a moment before finding a large bowl and two spoons. "Scoop out the guts and seeds and put them in the bowl. We'll deal with them in a minute." He handed Spock a spoon, and rolled up his sleeves.

Spock stared at the spoon like it was poisonous, and Jim snorted with laughter and dived in, using his hands to pull out large chunks of slimy pumpkin innards.

"When I was ten, Sam and I found this pumpkin that was, like, four feet tall and six or so across. Seriously huge. We rolled it home—it was so big we could barely move it—and carved it up and it was amazing. I could climb in the thing when we got it all cleaned out. That was the best Halloween—it was the last year I went trick-or-treating."

Spock looked at Jim blankly.

Jim giggled. "It's where you dress up—'in disguise,' as you say—and walk around to your neighbor's houses and they give you candy."

"Do you exchange anything for this candy?"

"Um, you say 'trick or treat!' and if they don't give you candy, you're allowed to play a trick on them. Except everyone gives you candy, cause you're a kid, and it's fun."

Spock nodded, resigning himself (once again) to always wonder about the oddness of humans, and rolled up his sleeves before using his spoon to scrape the inside of the pumpkin. "Why are we carving a jack-o-lantern?" he asked after they had worked quietly together for several minutes.

"Because it's tradition, and I haven't done it in years. Last year we had that diplomatic mission to Alveria, and the year before I was sick with that virus from Rigel, and the year before was… not really a time for being ridiculous…" he glanced at Spock out the corner of his eye.

"This year, we're not doing anything, and I've got you to carve the pumpkin with." He leaned over and gently kissed Spock, who quirked the corner of his mouth slightly and returned the kiss. They let it deepen for a moment, and then Jim pulled back, smirking. "Pumpkin first, then sexing," he scolded.

Spock cocked an eyebrow, but returned to scraping the pumpkin's innards clean. After a moment more of working, the last of the guts were in the bowl, and Jim sat back, rolling the pumpkin from side to side as he looked for the best area to carve the face.

He finally decided on a surface, and quickly made light grooves, mapping out what he wanted to do. "It can be simple," he told Spock, who was watching with interest. "Just eyes, nose, mouth." He considered, added a few teeth, and sat back. "What do you think?"

"It is not a particularly anatomically correct figure…" Spock said slowly, and Jim laughed.

"It's not supposed to be. The faces used to be scary, remember? Used to scare away spirits and all that. Anyway, now we cut it out the rest of the way, add a light for the inside, and close the top. Then it glows, and is just generally nice."

"It serves no other purpose except being aesthetically pleasant?"

"None at all," Jim grinned at him, and started on the triangles he'd traced for eyes. "Unless you have a hidden superstitious side and want to believe that it'll keep the evil spirits away."

"Belief in spirits that wish my person harm is illogical," Spock responded, and Jim turned his head, hiding his grin from his boyfriend. Spock rose and walked to the bathroom to wash his hands. "Also, the pumpkin's 'guts,' as you say, are displeasingly slimy." Jim watched him from the floor, knife stuck in the side of the pumpkin, forgotten, and his grin morphed to one of great mischief.

He grabbed a handful of the slimiest bit of pumpkin guts he could find, jumped lightly to his feet, and walked silently up behind Spock, who was attempting to scrub his hands clean, still talking, and totally unaware that the captain was sneaking up on him.

"…such an illogical and outdated practice, I cannot understand your desire to engage in this; our quarters are filthy and there are seeds spread—"

Jim reached out and pulled the back of Spock's shirt out. Spock had perhaps half a second to be confused before oozing orange pumpkin was sliding down his back. He was entirely unable to stop himself from squeaking out a disgruntled noise, and Jim burst out laughing.

"Jim!" Spock spun, arching his back, trying to minimize the contact his skin had with the slime, and the captain grabbed his face (smearing more orange tendrils on Spock's cheeks) and kissed him soundly. Spock breathed out (annoyed) through his nose, but didn't pull away, instead reaching behind him toward the sink.

Before Jim knew what was happening, there was a wet squelching and he found himself having pumpkin guts smeared liberally into his hair—and Spock was carefully massaging them in further, his serious face betrayed by the smallest glint of amusement deep in his brown eyes.

"My hair!" Jim gasped, mock horrified, and one corner of Spock's mouth twitched up.

"My back," he responded, and then leaned in for a quick, chaste kiss, before leaving the bathroom and pulling his shirt off. Spock stared down at the orange mess in his uniform for a moment before shaking his head slightly and throwing it toward the laundry chute. He clasped his hands behind his back and turned to face the captain, who was peering at himself in the mirror.

"Was this your idea of 'dealing' with the remnants of your pumpkin?"

Jim glanced at him, smiling, and shook his head. "No, no. But we do need to separate the goo from the seeds and then clean them. You wanna do that while I finish carving?"

"I suppose…" Spock said slowly, but knelt with no further complaints and started working. Jim walked back over, pulled a large chunk of pumpkin from his hair, and dropped it on the growing pile of mess next to Spock. Then he swooped down to finish the pumpkin's face, and a few minutes later, both men had completed their respective tasks.

Spock eyed the pumpkin seeds. "May I ask what we do with these?"

Jim's eyes lit up. "That's the best part. We clean them and cook them, and then we have a delicious Halloween treat." He busied himself cleaning up (perfunctorily at best, Spock noted) and instructed Spock to put on a shirt. As soon as this was done, Jim grabbed his hand and escorted him and the bowl of cleaned seeds out of their quarters.

Usually the sight of the captain dragging his first officer through the corridors of the Enterprise would not cause even the most jaded (namely, one Leonard McCoy) to raise an eyebrow, but today, Bones had the good fortune to run into the pair just outside the officer's mess hall. His eyebrows disappeared into his bangs.

After taking a moment to fully appreciate the ridiculousness of a grinning Kirk and a disgruntled Spock, (both smeared liberally with what Bones sincerely hoped was only pumpkin) he followed them into the cooking area of the mess.

"So what's he got you involved in this time?" Bones asked Spock, who had settled into parade rest as he watched Jim whirl around the kitchen.

"We are celebrating Halloween with the carving of a pumpkin and the consumption of its seeds," Spock deadpanned, and Bones stared at him for precisely 9.4 seconds (Spock counted) before turning incredulously to Jim, who had found salt and olive oil and was looking for a cookie sheet.

"You got him to carve a jack-o-lantern?" Bones asked, and Jim smiled.

"Yep. And we had a pumpkin guts fight. It was awesome."

Beside Bones, Spock snorted softly.

Jim finally unearthed a cookie sheet (with much rattling and clanging) and dumped the seeds on it. He dabbed on a liberal amount of oil and salt, and after a moment of figuring out the oven, stuck the pan in, and turned to the other two, an easy smile on his face.

"Now we wait. And then we eat."

While the three men sat waiting for the seeds to cook, Bones and Jim entertained Spock by telling him stories about Halloweens when they were children.

"Once I dressed as a clothesline," Bones admitted. "I wore a sweater and clipped clothes to my arms. Wore a laundry basket around my waist."

"I was never that inventive," Jim laughed. "I was usually a ghost or a zombie. Once when I was little I was a Starfleet captain. Got lots of candy that year—I should have seen it as a sign." Bones laughed too, and even Spock flashed his almost-smile.

"Jo's being a princess this year," Bones told the other two, and showed them a holovid he'd received earlier in the day of his daughter, smiling and twirling in a flowing pink dress. She looked thrilled, and Bones looked wistful. "Maybe next year I can take her trick-or-treating," he said, and Jim promised to try to get them near Earth next Halloween.

Finally, the seeds were done, and after carefully levering them out of the oven, Jim then proceeded to burn his fingers picking them off the tray. "Shitshit, ow," he mumbled, but shoved a few seeds into Spock's mouth. The Vulcan chewed slowly, thinking, and Bones ignored the fact that Jim felt comfortable enough to stick his fingers in Spock's mouth. And that Spock let him.

"These are quite good," Spock conceded, and Jim smiled.

"No need to act so shocked—I told you they were the best part." He reached over and gathered a few to pop in his own mouth, and gestured for Bones to help himself.

"Roasted pumpkin seeds are a staple of human Halloween," Jim declared, and fed Spock a few more.