Summary: Everyone has a weakness, something that makes them act like a totally different person. Unless you're Commander Spock. Then you have five. Spirk fluff and humor.
Rated: T because I said so. (Oh, and language)
Author's note: This is based on the movie, not the series. I've never seen the series so some of this may be slightly non-cannon, but not too bad.
Cats
"Captain to Sickbay, have you seen a cat anywhere, McCoy?"
"A Cat!"
"Yes Bones, a cat. White and black, have you seen her?"
"What the hell is a cat doing on the Enterprise?"
"I don't know, but that wasn't my question!"
"AWW!"
Kirk spun around to see his first officer on his knees, butt in the air and head buried under a desk.
"Um...Spock?" Spock climbed out from under the desk and lifted his hands in the air. There sat a small black kitten that nuzzled perfectly into the palm of his hand. Spock brought the kitten to his face and rubbed their cheeks together. The crew was speechless.
"Spock, why are you holding a kitten?"
"Well, Captain, it appears that the feline in question was baring offspring. It is logical to assume that she gave birth somewhere on the ship and this little one got away." He rubbed the kitten's forehead with his thumb and elicited a small squeal when the kitten began to purr.
"I guess we should bring him back to his mother then." Kirk reached for the kitten but Spock yanked his hands back.
"Oh Captain, can we keep him? Pleaseee!"
Chocolate
Spock stumbled to his station, tripping over his own feet and managing to catch himself on a desk. He sat at his station and became distracted by the colors of all the buttons. Has there always been such a rainbow of spectra? Fascinating...
He started pushing buttons, unaware of the results it was having on the ship. When the Captain's chair fell out from under him and he landed on his butt on the floor the Commander giggled. Kirk took one long look at him before reaching for the button on his chair.
"Kirk to medical, please send Doctor McCoy down here at once. We have an issue."
Within seconds Bones rushed through the floor, PADD in hand, his eyebrows arched up in surprise.
"What seems to be the problem?" Kirk pointed to Spock, who rose out of the chair as if he had been called. He stumbled over to Bones, who immediately began scanning him.
"You have high levels of hormones in you, and...is that? Spock, are you-"
"Your eyebrows are fascinating." Spock reached one long finger forward and poked McCoy's right eyebrow. McCoy turned to the Captain and released a deep sigh.
"He's drunk."
"I can assure you, Doctor, that I have never ingested an alcoholic beverage in my life."
"Not drunk on alcohol, Spock. On chocolate." Spock giggled and pulled his shirt down, trying to hide the chocolate bars in his back pocket.
Massages
"Dammit, Spock, I told you not to jump! You criticize me for not taking your statistical likelihoods seriously, yet you refuse to take them seriously yourself?" Kirk ran a wet cloth over Spock's right hand, trying to wipe all the blood off so he could see the wound properly. The sun was setting over Vulcan II and they were pressed against a large rock, having just jumped from twenty feet above. Jim's idea. Spock's doing.
"In my defense, how am I to know that only you have the ability to defy statistics, even such as small as 2.48%?"
"Because I'm fucking awesome. You, on the other hand, should stick to logic in cases like this. Now hold still." Jim sprinkled a powder over Spock's hand that instantly healed the wound. It did not reduce the pain, though.
"You jumped, too. Why did you not receive such injuries?"
"We've been over this. I'm fucking awesome. Does it hurt?" Spock nodded. Jim grasped his hand and began rubbing his fingers in gentle circles against the Vulcan's sensitive skin. Spock suddenly felt light-headed and...tingly? His mind became nothing more than mush and he said something to Jim, but he was completely unaware of his words. Which is why he couldn't understand why the Captain's hands had stopped moving and he looked at Spock in shock.
"Is something the matter?"
"Did you just call me an awesome fuck?"
Singing
Spock slumped down on his bed, grateful for the chance to relax. Although he would never admit it, he had been working overtime and not getting enough sleep, and the Captain's demand that he take leave for the rest of his shift was a welcome demand. He reached for his remote, turned on the stereo, and sunk onto his sheets, prepared to either meditate or just go to sleep. That is, until his song came on.
She had them Apple Bottom Jeans [Jeans]
Boots with the fur [With the fur]
The whole club lookin at her
She hit the floor [She hit the floor]
Next thing you know
Shawty got low low low low low low low low
Too hyped up to sleep, Spock jumped up from his bed and yanked his brush off the nightstand. He started rapping into the brush and dancing all over his room. As the song progressed he let more and more of his Vulcan composer slip away. Put logic aside, do what feels right.
"Them baggy sweat pants
And the Reeboks with the straps [With the straps]
She turned around and gave that big booty a smack [Ayy]
She hit the floor [She hit the floor]
Next thing you know
Shawty got low low low low low low low low"
This was what Jim saw when he entered Spock's room. He wasn't complaining, but he was curious as to why, and how, the Commander was shaking his butt and grinding his hips to a 21st century rap song.
"Spock?"
Spock spun around and dropped his brush in surprise. He stood up straight, shut the music off and avoided Jim's eyes.
"I was just, um...Familiarizing myself with the culture of a historic time period, Captain."
"Riiiight."
Captains
"Captain, I demand to know what you are-" Jim cut Spock off by pressing the Vulcan against the wall and pushing his body against him. Spock tried hard to think logically, but having the Captain so close made it difficult for him.
"I'm helping you out. Unless you'd prefer to die." He was referring, of course, to Spock's favorite thing in the entire world: pon farr.
"I cannot allow you to sacrifice yourself for my well-being."
"You think I'm doing this because I'm a heroic martyr or something?"
"It is logical-"
"You're right. It is logical for me to not be attracted to you. It's logical for me to not be best friends with you right now, too, since we've only been on good terms for two months. It is logical for me to have no attraction for you whatsoever because I am a woman-loving manwhore and you're a man. But Spock," Jim pressed his lips to the Vulcan's neck, causing a rush of green to tint his cheeks. "Love is never logical."
"But Jim-"
"Shh. What did the other Spock say? Put aside logic, do what feels right. Do I feel right, Spock?" His lips trailed up Spock's neck and pressed against his cheek, and Spock could swear that, for that moment, he had never been Vulcan. He grasped Jim's shirt and pulled him closer, releasing a small moan in his lover's ear.
"God yes, you feel so good!"
"That's what I like to hear." And Jim pressed his lips against Spock's, gentle and passionate and dripping with unspoken promises.
Did you like it? This is MY FIRST Startrek fic, so I feel like I didn't get into it fully, but let me know what you thought and which, if any, you liked best. Thanks for reading!