A/N: Oh hey, look--part five! That means that part six, the much anticipated end, will soon be unveiled. As soon as I write it, that is. =| I've been having a bit of a writer's block with this prompt.
But anyway, as soon as this story is done, I think I'd like to work on another story for only, not from a prompt on the kink meme. So, this is where I ask my new reading friends, for your help. I quite like these "5+1" prompts, so I am asking you, the reader, to give me a prompted idea in that format (Or in a 4+1 format). In your review, if you wish to forward a prompt, put it in this outline:
"Five (or four) times that _______ (Insert character[s]) _______________ (insert the situation. It can be anything, really, so long as it's not overly disgusting.) and one time that ___________ (the ending of the prompt is usually when the character[s] complete the previously denied task/emotion/whatev. However, it could be that they previously accepted, the last time being when they denied it.)
I will take both het and slash prompts, though I don't have experience writing slash. I am willing to try, though. I will not write graphic sex at this time, but alluding to it is completely in my power.
Get creative, reviewers, and I will supply the fiction! Now, onto your regularly scheduled fanfiction.
This was the last straw. If Jim Kirk couldn't make Spock laugh after this scheme, the flustered Captain was probably going to give up on life. It seemed silly to everyone else, but as said earlier, Kirk didn't believe in anything except winning. His thoughts had been preoccupied with what could possibly be funny to Spock, and it was the only thing he was readily willing to talk about.
Bones had even suggested medication to help Kirk sleep, since the doctor assumed that this predicament was also taking over his dreams.
"Look, the guy doesn't even smile--maybe he's not capable of laughing...?" McCoy suggested while checking Jim's pupils with a small flashlight. He had trudged into sickbay after 48 hours of no sleep, thinking there was probably something unhealthy about that. Kirk groaned a reply, shaking his head. "He's half human, Bones! He's capable, he just won't do it." The reason was unclear to him, but it probably had to do with being "emotionally in control" or some stupid bullshit like that.
When Kirk first suggested that they dress up the young Ensign, Chekov, in a dress and take pictures, Bones did not want to comply. "You are going too far for a stupid fight against the devil on your left shoulder, Jim." He told his friend, who merely ignored him and kept driving the small hand-held screwdriver into the edges of Chekov's number pad in front of his quarters. Sure, he could go into the crew logs and just get the password there, but--well, that wasn't as fun, was it? Once inside the young Ensign's quarters, they saw the seventeen year old sleeping in his bed, a teddy bear tucked under his arms. "Well, looks like he's asleep, I guess this means we can leave." Bones said with a shrug, starting to head out the door, only to be pulled back by Kirk. "No, no. He sleeps like a rock, Bones. Remember Lieutenant Mendez's party? Yeah. Exactly." He patted his friend on the shoulder before shaking out the frilly pink evening gown. Couldn't have a fancy dress looking wrinkled, could you?
It took them twenty minutes to wriggle the pink gown onto the sleeping Russian, and by them, it was actually just Jim. Bones stood aside, near the door, his arms crossed at his chest and shaking his head. He wanted no part of this. He did, however, agree to snap a couple pictures in the end, because the sight of Chekov in a dress was actually more funny than originally thought. Chekov kept on sleeping, even as Bones took two, three pictures, the flash nearly blinding the two awake men. They quickly got Chekov out of the dress and slipped out of the room, completely undetected.
The next morning, the bridge crew was in fits of laughter over the pictures that Kirk had in his hands. Even Chekov, who at first was admittedly quite embarrassed and a little irritated, was laughing, "Keptin, I..am no so sure zat pink is qvite my color." Even the kid had a good sense of humor! There was just one person that needed to be exposed to the silly pictures, and that particular person was heading onto the bridge now.
"Mr. Spock! You must come see these pictures of Chekov. He's...well.." He was clearly trying to hold back more laughter, having great difficulty, "He's quite the little debutante, if I do say so myself." He finished before bursting out laughing again, crew members joining him. Spock, his hands behind his back in a professional manner, slowly walked over to where the small crowd was, peering over people to glance down at the pictures in the Captain's hands. Well, look at that...a small smile graced the corners of Spock's lips. Jim watched with slightly widened eyes, and his mind screamed "BINGO--you've got him, Jim!" But the smile quickly turned back to the nonchalant face he usually had as he stood straight and gave a curt nod. "I have to agree with Ensign Chekov that pink is not really his color."
If it were possible for Kirk to melt into a puddle right in his chair, he would have.