The BLTS Archive - The Invitation
by Charlene (charlene.vickers@gmail.com)

---

Archive: R'rain's, BLTS, ASC/ASCEM, all others ask 

Other: Fuck-a-doodle-doo Challenge, Lightning Response Division

Paramount owns the sandlot: I've just picked up the ball and thrown it
to Kirk and Spock. If you don't want to see them play, go on to the
next lot.

---

"Fuck-a-doodle-doo."

Spock stuck his head out the kitchen door to find Kirk glaring at
their computer terminal, his face red with anger, his mouth a hard,
thin line.

"Fuckety-duckety."

"Jim...."

Kirk looked up, startled, then smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Spock. I was
just --" and he stopped, gesturing at the viewscreen. His face
hardened again.

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "Admiral Nogura, I presume?"

"We have been invited," Kirk replied sourly, scowling at the
viewscreen, "to a cocktail party tomorrow night. Or ordered, to be
more precise. Meet and greet the media. One of Nogura's grand PR
schemes."

"Indeed."

Their eyes met, each remembering Nogura's last adventure in the world
of public relations: Starfleet brand condoms. It had taken weeks for
the ridicule to die down.

"How unfortunate," Spock commented drily, "that our dress uniforms are
at the cleaners."

Kirk shook his head. "We tried that one last time."

"A previous engagement?" the Vulcan suggested as he crossed the room.

"One that supercedes the orders of an admiral? Not unless you've got
an in with the Federation President."

Spock's long hands caressed Kirk's shoulders as he read the text of
the message. "Did the Admiral attach a list of those expected to
attend the event?"

Kirk punched a few keys and brought up a long list of names. "All
men," he murmured in surprise as he scanned the list.

"All unattached men," Spock added, "except for us. Does he not realise
that we have been cohabiting for some time?"

"Cohabiting, yes, but I don't think he's figured it out yet," Kirk
replied, his fingers intertwined with Spock's. After a moment's pause,
he swivelled in his chair to meet Spock's gaze. "You think that's the
angle he's going to play with the media? Brave, intrepid Starfleet
officers searching the galaxy for Miss Right?"

"I believe it highly likely."

"And what will they say about us?" Kirk wondered aloud as he stood, a
mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "You, of course, are the dark,
handsome, mysterious Vulcan, hiding your loneliness behind a wall of
logic, waiting for a raven-haired, blue-eyed--"

"I prefer hazel."

"--hazel-eyed beauty to awaken the passion in your soul. I, on the
other hand," he continued, ignoring Spock's stratospheric eyebrow, "am
the lusty ship's captain. Tempted by seductresses at every port,
surrounded by sin, always denied complete happiness -- except in the
arms of an old-fashioned girl. Or an old-fashioned boy, if it's Out
Magazine."

After a moment's thought, Spock lifted his hand to Kirk's brow. "I
believe you are running a fever, Jim." His hand slid behind Kirk's
head; their lips met in a fiery kiss.

"Do you think it's contagious?" Kirk murmured as their lips parted.

"If so, it is likely that I too am infected," Spock pointed out, his
voice ragged with desire. "And, as you know, there is no greater
rudeness than to attend a social gathering while ill with a contagious
disease." His hands travelled down Kirk's back to caress his tight,
round, muscular buttocks.

"I do believe you're right, Mr. Spock," Kirk replied as he ran his
hands through his lover's thick black hair. "You wouldn't happen to
know of a physician who could give us a medical report to that effect,
would you?"

The Vulcan nodded. "I believe I do. I will arrange for the appropriate
documentation. But -- but not right now."

"No," Kirk agreed, as they moved into the bedroom. "Not right now."

---

The End