Fic: "Such a Thing Does Not Exist" (Kirk/Spock, PG)
Title: Such a Thing Does Not Exist
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: eh, PG
Words: ~1000
Notes: So, I was supposed to write this, oh hey, a month ago, for the lightning round for help_haiti. *facepalm* At least it's a little longish? For
moonlight69, prompt Nu!Kirk/Spock. Fuzzy slippers. For purposes of this ficlet, I have adopted the convention of a shared bathroom between Kirk's and Spock's quarters, which is evidently from a long-ago blueprint of Enterprise, (no bloody A, B, C, or D). (WHAT.) No actual porn, alas, but there are fuzzy slippers, so.
Such a Thing Does Not Exist
"If you have a moment," Spock began as he entered Jim's 'living room'.
Jim sighed. "Spock, given that I'm lying around reading on the couch in my underwear and a really old robe, I think you can safely assume I have a moment." They'd had this conversation, or ones close enough, several times, and while Spock was more likely, any more, to accept such casual interaction at face value, it was still an occasional sticking point in how they got along.
"I do not wish to assume."
"All right, yes. I have a moment." Jim swiveled on his ass to sit up and set his glasses down so they'd catch the closing pages of his actually-paper old book. "What's up?"
"I wish to understand the purpose of these." His hands had been folded behind his back (not unusual), and he was holding the pastel-rainbow fuzzy slippers he'd been given in the officers' holiday exchange.
Jim looked at them for a minute, then looked up at Spock's quiet face. He looked concerned, somehow, though there was no one feature or expanse of skin which could be clearly identified as the element which showed it. "They're to warm your feet, Spock. I don't think they have another purpose. I mean, they're a little silly, but again, let's discuss my current attire."
"I did not understand your previous statement of attire to indicate a desire for discussion. If you wish my opinion, that robe may be past all hope of repair, and I shall refrain from comment upon the other article at this time."
Jim glanced down, belatedly remembering that the underwear in question were the old red boxers with a bright smiley face on the flap and various neon-colored words of encouragement printed all over the rest. "I didn't actually. Want your opinion. Sorry, it was a figure of speech and I wasn't actually asking you to offer a comment on these; I think they kind of speak for themselves."
"Indeed."
"So, why are you worried about the slippers? I mean, all in all, they're kind of a good gift for you. You're always cold in human-normalized environments, right?"
"I would not say I was cold; merely that the temperature was somewhat below the range in which I am most readily comfortable."
"Right, well. This way you won't have to be below the comfortable temperature without provisions, and while I realize in your own part of the suite, you do keep it warmer, still, we keep the bathroom a temperature somewhere in between, and you do spend a fair amount of time in here." That was one of the casual interactions Spock had finally accepted: that if Jim was in his quarters and his side of the shared bathroom's door was open, Spock was welcome to come on in without any formal announcement or request. Jim frowned. "What is it that's actually making you uncomfortable, Spock? I'm sure all this shit is stuff you know, or could have figured out."
Spock shifted slightly, so slightly Jim thought many people wouldn’t have observed it at all, then said, "I have observed that items of clothing which are 'fuzzy' are frequently perceived as feminine. Especially when they are colors such as these are. I therefore hypothesized that these were perhaps a coded comment--that the giver had drawn a conclusion regarding the manner in which you and I spend personal time together, and was suggesting that I was--"
"…the woman?" Jim shook his head. "Okay, for one thing, last I checked you can beat me to a bloody pulp without breaking a sweat, so if you are the woman, I'm impressed, but that's not even important. I don't care what conclusions people draw about my sex life except in that I would be averse to anyone finding my behavior abusive, and I guess everyone probably has that worked out. But I also would be quite averse to anyone making smart-ass comments about anyone else having any particular sort of sex life in relation to me, and I think any of the officers in this ship probably would have that worked out, too."
"Therefore, because if it were an insult, you would be as much the target as I would, and you believe this ship's officers do not in general wish to insult you, you conclude there was no such intention."
"Exactly. And I mean, if you wear them in here, well, look at me. It'd be a serious case of the pot and the kettle if I made fun of them."
Spock considered this for a moment, then came around the coffee table and sat on the couch next to Jim. He carefully unzipped one boot, then the other, and put the fuzzy slippers on his long feet.
"How do they feel?"
"I have no context for them, as I do not believe I have ever owned 'slippers,' per se; however, I believe I shall find them pleasing."
Jim grinned. "Good." He reached for his glasses and book.
"If I may ask…"
"Isn't this where we started? No, never mind. Yeah?"
"You seemed unconcerned about the notion that others might perceive our common interests as a sexual relationship."
"What's the question?"
"Does this not concern you?"
"Nope. You?"
"Not precisely; however, it does lead me to wonder whether and how extensively the perception exists."
Jim shrugged. "If it does, then either it's right, or it's wrong. Right now, it's wrong."
Spock lifted a brow and stood, picking up his boots.
"Wait, whoa, Spock. I didn't mean I was about to jump you or anything. Just that it's not a door I consider closed."
Spock nodded. "I concur. I merely wished to move my boots out of the way before suggesting we might commence steps to remedy the conflict between perception and reality."
"Was that…" Jim stood as well, taking the boots and dropping them on the coffee table. "Was that a Vulcan come-on?"
"Vulcans do not 'come on' to anyone; therefore, such a thing does not exist."
"Yeah, but was it, anyway?"
"I cannot say."
Jim sighed. "Never easy, are you. All right, no, what's step one?"
I originally posted this at http://florahart.dreamwidth.org/1046861.html, where there are
comments. OpenID and/or anon comments are allowed, but sometimes locks and reading circles make going there complicated.
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: eh, PG
Words: ~1000
Notes: So, I was supposed to write this, oh hey, a month ago, for the lightning round for help_haiti. *facepalm* At least it's a little longish? For
moonlight69, prompt Nu!Kirk/Spock. Fuzzy slippers. For purposes of this ficlet, I have adopted the convention of a shared bathroom between Kirk's and Spock's quarters, which is evidently from a long-ago blueprint of Enterprise, (no bloody A, B, C, or D). (WHAT.) No actual porn, alas, but there are fuzzy slippers, so.
Such a Thing Does Not Exist
"If you have a moment," Spock began as he entered Jim's 'living room'.
Jim sighed. "Spock, given that I'm lying around reading on the couch in my underwear and a really old robe, I think you can safely assume I have a moment." They'd had this conversation, or ones close enough, several times, and while Spock was more likely, any more, to accept such casual interaction at face value, it was still an occasional sticking point in how they got along.
"I do not wish to assume."
"All right, yes. I have a moment." Jim swiveled on his ass to sit up and set his glasses down so they'd catch the closing pages of his actually-paper old book. "What's up?"
"I wish to understand the purpose of these." His hands had been folded behind his back (not unusual), and he was holding the pastel-rainbow fuzzy slippers he'd been given in the officers' holiday exchange.
Jim looked at them for a minute, then looked up at Spock's quiet face. He looked concerned, somehow, though there was no one feature or expanse of skin which could be clearly identified as the element which showed it. "They're to warm your feet, Spock. I don't think they have another purpose. I mean, they're a little silly, but again, let's discuss my current attire."
"I did not understand your previous statement of attire to indicate a desire for discussion. If you wish my opinion, that robe may be past all hope of repair, and I shall refrain from comment upon the other article at this time."
Jim glanced down, belatedly remembering that the underwear in question were the old red boxers with a bright smiley face on the flap and various neon-colored words of encouragement printed all over the rest. "I didn't actually. Want your opinion. Sorry, it was a figure of speech and I wasn't actually asking you to offer a comment on these; I think they kind of speak for themselves."
"Indeed."
"So, why are you worried about the slippers? I mean, all in all, they're kind of a good gift for you. You're always cold in human-normalized environments, right?"
"I would not say I was cold; merely that the temperature was somewhat below the range in which I am most readily comfortable."
"Right, well. This way you won't have to be below the comfortable temperature without provisions, and while I realize in your own part of the suite, you do keep it warmer, still, we keep the bathroom a temperature somewhere in between, and you do spend a fair amount of time in here." That was one of the casual interactions Spock had finally accepted: that if Jim was in his quarters and his side of the shared bathroom's door was open, Spock was welcome to come on in without any formal announcement or request. Jim frowned. "What is it that's actually making you uncomfortable, Spock? I'm sure all this shit is stuff you know, or could have figured out."
Spock shifted slightly, so slightly Jim thought many people wouldn’t have observed it at all, then said, "I have observed that items of clothing which are 'fuzzy' are frequently perceived as feminine. Especially when they are colors such as these are. I therefore hypothesized that these were perhaps a coded comment--that the giver had drawn a conclusion regarding the manner in which you and I spend personal time together, and was suggesting that I was--"
"…the woman?" Jim shook his head. "Okay, for one thing, last I checked you can beat me to a bloody pulp without breaking a sweat, so if you are the woman, I'm impressed, but that's not even important. I don't care what conclusions people draw about my sex life except in that I would be averse to anyone finding my behavior abusive, and I guess everyone probably has that worked out. But I also would be quite averse to anyone making smart-ass comments about anyone else having any particular sort of sex life in relation to me, and I think any of the officers in this ship probably would have that worked out, too."
"Therefore, because if it were an insult, you would be as much the target as I would, and you believe this ship's officers do not in general wish to insult you, you conclude there was no such intention."
"Exactly. And I mean, if you wear them in here, well, look at me. It'd be a serious case of the pot and the kettle if I made fun of them."
Spock considered this for a moment, then came around the coffee table and sat on the couch next to Jim. He carefully unzipped one boot, then the other, and put the fuzzy slippers on his long feet.
"How do they feel?"
"I have no context for them, as I do not believe I have ever owned 'slippers,' per se; however, I believe I shall find them pleasing."
Jim grinned. "Good." He reached for his glasses and book.
"If I may ask…"
"Isn't this where we started? No, never mind. Yeah?"
"You seemed unconcerned about the notion that others might perceive our common interests as a sexual relationship."
"What's the question?"
"Does this not concern you?"
"Nope. You?"
"Not precisely; however, it does lead me to wonder whether and how extensively the perception exists."
Jim shrugged. "If it does, then either it's right, or it's wrong. Right now, it's wrong."
Spock lifted a brow and stood, picking up his boots.
"Wait, whoa, Spock. I didn't mean I was about to jump you or anything. Just that it's not a door I consider closed."
Spock nodded. "I concur. I merely wished to move my boots out of the way before suggesting we might commence steps to remedy the conflict between perception and reality."
"Was that…" Jim stood as well, taking the boots and dropping them on the coffee table. "Was that a Vulcan come-on?"
"Vulcans do not 'come on' to anyone; therefore, such a thing does not exist."
"Yeah, but was it, anyway?"
"I cannot say."
Jim sighed. "Never easy, are you. All right, no, what's step one?"
I originally posted this at http://florahart.dreamwidth.org/1046861.html, where there are
comments. OpenID and/or anon comments are allowed, but sometimes locks and reading circles make going there complicated.