fic: multiple choice
Title: Multiple Choice
Fandom: Star Trek:XI
Rating: R
Pairing: Kirk/Pike, Kirk+McCoy, Pike+Number One, Delicious Crack/Unapologetic Schmoop
Declaimer: I do not own these characters and court no profits with this fanwork.
Notes: I'm certain this is someone's fault, I'm just not sure whose. I'm going to go with leftarrow, just to be safe.
Summary: ( Jim's impromptu bachelor party has taken on a distinctly Bacchanalian flavor, casual nudity and brightly colored drinks of suspicious origin everywhere.
Across one of the walls of Jim's lavish guest quarters is a fresco of sparsely attired aliens soberly counting a basket of severed heads, and presumably, the forcibly removed manhoods of said heads. Pinned above that cheerful depiction of judicial cultural heritage is a poorly hung banner, thoughtfully provided by the Xeno-Protocol Department, which says, in bold authoritative fuschia 'THERE IS NO PRE-MARITAL SEX ON PLANET LX-6.'
On a vividly green not-bear skin rug, Officer McKenna and Lieutenant Riley are smugly flaunting their conjugal rights with unexpected stamina and an impressive display of flexibility. )
Fandom: Star Trek:XI
Rating: R
Pairing: Kirk/Pike, Kirk+McCoy, Pike+Number One, Delicious Crack/Unapologetic Schmoop
Declaimer: I do not own these characters and court no profits with this fanwork.
Notes: I'm certain this is someone's fault, I'm just not sure whose. I'm going to go with leftarrow, just to be safe.
Summary: ( Jim's impromptu bachelor party has taken on a distinctly Bacchanalian flavor, casual nudity and brightly colored drinks of suspicious origin everywhere.
Across one of the walls of Jim's lavish guest quarters is a fresco of sparsely attired aliens soberly counting a basket of severed heads, and presumably, the forcibly removed manhoods of said heads. Pinned above that cheerful depiction of judicial cultural heritage is a poorly hung banner, thoughtfully provided by the Xeno-Protocol Department, which says, in bold authoritative fuschia 'THERE IS NO PRE-MARITAL SEX ON PLANET LX-6.'
On a vividly green not-bear skin rug, Officer McKenna and Lieutenant Riley are smugly flaunting their conjugal rights with unexpected stamina and an impressive display of flexibility. )
Pick One:
A) This is a love story.
B) This is a horror story.
TICKY BOXES!
Jim's manful display of emotional cognizance is briefly interrupted by a cheering thought: introducing himself as Mrs. Pike is going to be a thing of glory and awesomeness forever.
AHAHAHAHAA oh my God I think I swallowed my tongue with the effort of not shrieking with laughter.
DRUNKEN BONES. CLASSILY MOLESTING UHURA. DELIBERATELY DRUNKEN SPOCK. I have taken notes and wept with delight.
His exit from the ceiling varies slightly from the suave entrance originally intended.
*thud*
Pike is not a morning person. Pike is a quietly-set-you-on-fire-if-you-attempt-communication-before-the-ingestion-of-eight-fluid-ounces-of-coffee-person and Jim knows this from personal, dermal regenerator required, experience.
A) This is sexy.
B) This is assault.
Depends: did Pike kiss the regenerated skin afterwards? Did Jim learn to hand him the coffee first the next morning?
Pike was conducting his daily harassment of the shipyard quartermaster via comm when Jim walked in, planted his hands on hips and asked, "Is our relationship a manifestation of displacement or otherwise the result of your internalized attraction to George, fueled by guilt and/or my inappropriately sexualized response to older male authority?"
Have I told you lately that I love you?
A) Jim.
B) The Enterprise.
*sniffles in wet-eyed, enthusiastic delight* Oh, I love this. I want to roll myself up in this. Hooray and hooray and three times hooray!
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