It's been a while, but it's never too late for crazy, crack-tastic fun, is it? Nope.
"Spock!" Sarek cried, thoroughly scandalized. "What are you doing un-chaperoned?"
"Well, remember at dinner when I was saying how I wanted to kill myself?"
Spock only received a blank stare.
"I was doing that. I was trying to kill myself."
More blank stares.
Spock rolled his eyes and adopted an innocent tone, "I wanted to see the propellers , but I just couldn't, so I bent over and whoopsies! I nearly fell in! Thankfully this young man was here to save me."
"Oh of course!" Sarek said.
"Pshh, men and machinery just don't mix!" Uhura claimed, walking up to Spock to wrap an arm around his waist. "They start looking at all the parts and then they'll think about dresses, or flowers, or babies, or pink shit, and just forget what's happening and BAM! They need someone to rescue them. Isn't that right, babe?"
Spock only answered with a grumble.
"Remember, the only time I want you bending over is when I have you in that maid uniform!" Uhura added.
Completely creeped out by the glimpse into Uhura's kinks, everyone hoped for some character to say something so the scene could move on. Luckily, Deliciousnewyork made Jim talk next.
"Well I should get going," Jim said.
"Nonsense!" said Lord Eldsworth Moneybags, one of Sarek's and Uhura's friends. "This boy is a hero! He should dine with us tomorrow night!"
"What an excellent idea," Uhura stated, though her tone indicated she was less than pleased with the idea.
"C'mon, Spock. Let's get back to the room before you faint." Uhura took his arm and began to lead him away.
"Bye Jim," Spock said before turning to leave.
Uhura handed Spock off to his father so she could stay back and have a word with one of her henchmen.
"I couldn't help but notice that this Jim was naked the whole time…..that makes me think something might be up. Keep your eye on him for me," she said in a low voice.
"Wow, Uhura, that's a good catch! You're so clever."
The next morning found Spock searching the deck for his rescuer. He found him in a deck chair, working intently over a sketchbook.
"Excuse me, Jim?"
Jim looked up. "Spock! What are you doing here? Isn't this crowd a little beneath you?"
Spock had intended to thank Jim, but Jim's presumption was a bit off-putting.
"And just what is that supposed to mean?"
"C'mon, I've seen social circle you're in, and they certainly wouldn't want you here."
"That may be true, but I don't care what they think!"
"Hmmm…some of the time. Still, you play their rich people games, and eat their rich people food, and other rich people stuff. You need to learn to lighten up. Have some fun! Maybe then you wouldn't be trying to kill yourself…or at least if you did kill yourself, people wouldn't be saying 'Aw, poor little rich boy' instead they'd be saying 'Hey, did you hear? That bum that performs a puppet show to kids in the ghetto killed himself, what a shame.'"
Spock was a bit dumbfounded. "….what?"
"Look," Jim continued, "My point is that you could be more than some steel tycoon's husband. Don't you think?"
"I…er..that is…"
Spock tried to answer but found himself getting caught up in Jim's work.
"Did you draw this?" he asked, taking the book from Jim. He flipped through the pages to find them filled with exquisite sketches.
"Uh…yeah, I draw on the side here and there," Jim said sheepishly. Most people didn't appreciate his work. He wasn't interested in drawing the conventional things.
"These are beautiful! Is this a donkey with its..?"
"Yeah, and he's kinda getting' all up in his.."
"Oh yes! I see!" Spock flipped the page to a new drawing.
"My god, how you've captured this elderly woman's strap-on is….it's just practically poetry."
"Geez, Spock, you're making me blush."
Spock smiled gently and handed him his sketchbook.
"I should be going. I look forward to seeing you at dinner," Spock said before departing.
Jim sighed softly as he watched Spock retreat. It really was such a lovely view. It's a damn good thing he stopped that from going overboard. Jim's next thought was that the best way to pass the time before dinner was to spit off the deck into the ocean. Clearly, with his background, what else could be expected? He played games with his spit, trying to see how far out he could get it to go, or how long of a string his spit would make before gravity took over and pulled the spit from his mouth. He would have been content to spit right through lunch, all afternoon and right up until dinner, but suddenly a perfectly manicured fingernail attached to a very green, slender finger trailed its way up his arm.
"I should have known you would be a spitter," Gaila Green purred as she promptly moved her arm from his bicep to his ass.
Usually, Jim would not object to a hand on his ass. Usually, he actually preferred when a handshake was skipped altogether and groping would ensue instead. However, Jim thought of how Spock's eyes lit up when he saw his drawings. He stepped out of Gaila's grasp.
Jim cleared his throat. "...is there, uh, anything I can help you with?"
Gaila smiled. "I hear you are having dinner with us tonight. What were you planning on wearing?"
Jim looked down at what he currently had on. The ratty trousers and faded cotton shirt were bad enough...but the suspenders really had to go. He looked back up at Gaila helplessly.
"Let's go find you an outfit!" She squealed. "Fashion show! Fashion show! Fashion show at lunch!"
Meanwhile, Spock was sitting through a particularly painful brunch with his fiance. Uhura was recounting a particularly horrid tale about her steel mills. She was gesturing with her utensils, chewing with her mouth open and would even stand up to pace or give a hip thrust.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" Uhura ran from their dining room into the bedroom. She came out with a rather large jewelry box. "I got you a present! Don't say I never do anything for you!"
Spock took the box gingerly into his hand. The hinges squeaked as his slowly opened the lid. Inside, nestled in red velvet, was the most hideous thing Spock had ever seen. It was a diamond studded dog collar. In the very center was a giant blue diamond. The Heart of the Ocean. Spock looked at Uhura in horror.
"I got a matching leash too! Now you can really be my bitch! I was gonna just get you the necklace, but the slave collar metaphor was too subtle!"
Spock closed the box, desperately thinking of an excuse not to wear the collar.
Jim sighed in frustration. Gaila had chosen so many outfits for him, but nothing was right. The leather bustier and hot pants were too confining. He wanted to be able to breath when he was with all the stuffy rich people. He had the same problem with the old west cowboy motif. Gaila even tried to convince him that her mink bikini was the perfect choice. But nothing seemed to be working.
Finally, though, after many trials and tribulations, they had found the perfect outfit for dinner.
Jim strode through the door to the grand dining hall sporting jeans, a white t-shirt, and a leather jacket. Gaila was dressed in a poodle skirt. Just a poodle skirt.
"Someone is forty years ahead of the times," Uhura snarled. She was secretly jealous that she couldn't pull off leather.
Gaila and Jim took their seats together. Jim secretly rejoiced that he was across from Spock. This would make playing footsie a breeze.
"Everyone," Gaila announced, "this is Jim Kirk. He'll be joining us for dinner. He's just so adorable!"
Jim flashed a smile. Everyone was entranced. Everyone but Sarek and Uhura, that is.
"Welcome aboard, laddie!" Montgomery Scott cheered. He leaned over and shook hands with the strapping young man. "Name's Scott and I built this here boat."
"Ah yes, but will it sink?" asked Pike. He was sitting at the head of the table, sipping some brandy, his feet up on an ottoman.
Sulu scoffed. "Never! The Titanic is the best ship ever!"
Pike and Sulu clinked glasses of brandy and downed them both in one gulp.
Jim's eye twitched. "Ummmm, who is steering the ship?"
"Nobody!" Pike answered with excitement.
"Uh, you don't see a problem with that?"
"Hell, nah!" Pike answered. "I just add water to the powder and then mix it a little, pop it in the tiny pink oven and BAM! In 15 minutes I have my own personal brownie!"
"Um, I'm pretty sure you're thinking of an EasyBake Oven," Jim said.
Pike pondered this for a minute. "No..no, I'm pretty positive that that's how the ship operates."
"How did you come to this conclusion?"
"I read the instructions! Some of them were in Chinese or some fuckin' think. I asked Ching Chong over here," Pike pointed over to Sulu, who frowned, "but he didn't know."
"For the millionth time! My name is Sulu and I'm Japanese. Why would you expect me to be able to read Chinese?"
"Chinese and Japanese are interchangeable terms like 'car' and 'automobile.' They're the same thing."
Sulu just stared.
"….they're so not."
"Whatever!" Jim exclaimed. "Captain, when you read the instructions what was at the top of the page?"
"Uh, it said 'how to use the Easy Bake Oven'….ooooooh yeah. Okay, I see how you're kinda right," Pike realized.
"C'mon, Panda Pal," Pike said, slapping Sulu on the shoulder, "Let's go steer the ship."
The two left, with Sulu grumbling expletives in Japanese.
Spock gawked at Jim, awestruck. "Mr. Kirk, that was completely logical. You have great powers of deduction."
Jim shot Spock a dirty, sexy wink.
"So Mr. Kirk. What do you do for a living?" Sarek asked, an eyebrow raised so high it was threatening to jump off and join a traveling circus.
"I'm an artist!" Jim proclaimed proudly.
"And a budding businessman," Gaila jumped in. "I've seen his sketches and he is so gifted. Once we get back to New York, we're going to team up and create the wildest sex toys this side of the Atlantic!"
Spock cleared his throat. "Tell us one of your tales!"
Jim grinned and settled back in his chair. "Sure, I've got a tale. I can trace his lineage back beyond Charlemagne. At first, I was on a mountain near Jerusalem, praying to God, asking his forgiveness for the Saracen blood spilt by my sword. Next, in Italy, I saved a fatherless beauty from the would-be ravishing of her dreadful Turkish uncle. In Greece I spent a year in silence just to better understand the sound of a whisper. I am the seeker of serenity, the protector of Italian virginity, the enforcer of our Lord God, the one, the only, Sir Jiiiiiiiiiiiiiim Kiiiiiiiiiiirk!"
Everyone oooo'd and awwww'd over Jim Kirk's exploits. Except for Sarek. He asked, "Isn't that from A Knight's Tale?"
"No," Jim replied.
"I think it is."
"You're wrong."
Spock beamed that Jim was standing up to his father.
All too quickly dinner was over and the men headed off to the smoking room. Scotty was about to invite Jim to join them when Uhura cut him off.
"Well Jane," she started.
"It's Jim, actually," Jim corrected.
"Whatever. We men are going to go have a smoke and we've had enough of your little poor boy puppet show, so if you could get a move on, that'd be great."
"Alright, I can take a hint," Jim said, standing up to leave.
"Spock, it was lovely dining with you." Jim took Spock's hand, kissed it while slipping a note in there on the sly.
Spock blushed, and looked around to assure that everyone had gone back to ignoring him. Carefully, he opened the note.
Spock-
Tonight we're gonna party.
I'm talking about - everybody getting crunk, crunk
Boys trying to touch my junk, junk
Gonna smack him if he getting too drunk, drunk
Meet me by the clock.
Tick tock, by the clock
The party don't stop no
--xxxxxoxxxoooxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Jim
Spock smiled and made a run for the clock.
AN: What's a trashy, classless party without Kesha? Anyway. Thoughts?