Title: 5 Times the Enterprise Crew Got Rickrolled
Characters/Pairing: Most of the bridge crew; some subtexty blink if you miss it K/S.
Universe: Mostly STXI, one in TNG, one in TOS.
Rating: PG-13 for a little bit of language.
Warnings: Utter cracktasticness.
Summary: The Enterprise just seems to be attracted to spectacular 80s music.
Author Notes: …Because you know Rick Astley is still gonna be coming back to annoy the shit out of everybody in the 23rd century. This fic has basically been a work in progress for months and months and months before I got off my ass and finished it, so here goes, in all its "5 Times" glory. Also there seems to be an unfortunate lack of McCoy. D:
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. STXI goes to Abrams and the lyrics to Rick Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up" are from his 1987 album Whenever You Need Somebody. It is awful but I love every second of it.
NEVER
"Uh…Pavel?" Sulu's eyes squinted in concern at the navigator's behavior. Chekov kept shifting in his seat, looking around suspiciously.
"Shh! Just a moment, Hikaru, watch," he grinned widely.
Sulu did watch, befuddled as Chekov turned in his chair to wink at Lieutenant Uhura, who smiled and gave him a quick thumbs up. Chekov positively glowed with glee.
"Captain," Uhura said sweetly, "we're being hailed."
"On screen," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair.
The view screen filled with the image of a tallish white man in a strange trench coat doing a ridiculous dance, backed by music heavy with synthesizers and drum machines.
"WE'RE NO STRANGERS TO LOVE.
"YOU KNOW THE RULES. AND SO. DO. IIIIIII."
Sulu looked around, terrified. How would the crew react? The captain? He noticed Chekov's smug grin and Uhura giggling into her palm. The other crew members looked either amused, confused, or disgusted (or some combination of the three.)
The captain, in the meantime, was laughing his ass off.
GONNA
"Admiral. Ambassador."
Kirk's face was grave through the comlink as he regarded his two mentor-figures.
"What is it, Jim?" Pike asked, concerned, as the older half-Vulcan almost hovering behind him displayed the vaguest signs of concern.
"I have…something to show you…"
With that, he put a vidlink through.
"NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP. NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOOOOOWWWWWWN. NEVER GONNA RUN AROUND, AND, DESERT YOU."
Kirk had barely glimpsed their reactions—a double eyebrow-raise and a facepalm—before succumbing to a wild fit of laughter on the floor.
GIVE
"Captain." The Klingon's deep voice called across the bridge, and Jean-Luc Picard looked up in response. "We are being hailed. There is a message."
"Onscreen."
The Frenchman was truly appalled at what he found.
"IIIIIII JUST WANNA TELL YOU HOW I'M FEEELIN'. TRYNA MAKE YOU, UNDERSTAND."
Picard shook his head, face in palm. There was no longer any dignity in Starfleet.
***
"Captain."
"Yes, Mr. Spock?"
"…May I inquire as to what you are doing?"
"Leaving…a time-locked message…in the Starfleet database."
"I see.
"…May I ask why?"
"You'll find out in about a hundred years."
YOU
"What the hell is this?!"
"It appears to be an example of an antiquated Earth ritual known colloquially as 'Rickrolling', Captain."
"But why?"
"It does not appear as though it was intended for us. It seems to be transference in signal from the local wormhole reaching through to contact the ship. Fascinating."
"Absurd and uncalled for."
"Indeed."
The rest of the bridge crew snickered.
and UP
"…and of course, I'm going to need your signature here as well, and here…here, take this, I'll be back in just a moment."
Kirk positively skittered across the room to the joint bathroom, leaving Spock's eyebrow raised to a prominent degree. He turned back to the PADD. Just as he was about to put the stylus down to sign, the image of a late twentieth century pop music artist appeared on the screen and began to sing. The Vulcan could hear poorly concealed snorts of hysteric laughter from the adjacent room. He tapped the PADD. The image shifted, but did not dissolve. It appeared as though he would be required to sit through the entire illogical ballad.
Several moments afterward the captain reemerged, portraying a smirk as equally poorly concealed as his previous histrionics.
"Did you enjoy Mr. Astley's…presentation?" he asked.
"As a matter of fact, I found it most appropriate," Spock responded coolly. "The demonstration was most appreciated. Tell me, Captain, do you feel Mr. Astley's words a correct representation of your regard for me?"
Kirk gaped, stunned. The bastard was playing games now?
"Why, of course," he grinned slyly. "What are friends for?"
"Then I find I should reciprocate. I shall have you know that it is never my intention to relinquish your presence, nor fail you when you are expecting my assistance. Neither am I going to wander off into inappropriate tangents and betray you.
"Let it also be said that I will never endeavor to cause you tears, or that I will never announce my intention to part from you side and cause you undue pain."
He finished with the tiniest of smug not-smiles. Kirk blinked, then clapped a hand on his first officer's shoulder.
"Well thanks, bud. I think you're pretty swell myself."
With a wink, he scooped up the PADD and turned from the room.
FIN
a/n: (Yes yes I totally overdid the ending. And enjoyed every second of it.)
I typed this up lightening fast, so if you see any grammatical errors or other inconsistencies, please don't hesitate to inform me. Crack or no, I have a reputation to keep and would be mortified to find any slips of the key in here.
