I don't own Star Trek. This was somewhat inspired by the accidental marriage fics. For the record, they are all based off of actual, traditional earth courting methods…not necessarily proposals…So, yeah, you get to learn! I'm so, so, so sorry…Also, this is totally Jim/Spock crack. I was recently told by a reviewer on another fic of mine that crack seemed normal in Star Trek…So I thoroughly embrace the nature of this fic. Well…it does start with a spoon… O/O
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James T. Kirk was a dedicated Starfleet officer. He was a captain's captain. He…was a braggart currently being laughed at by much of his command crew. That had been his intent, of course, but still. Jim was posing for his command crew with a dark fedora dipped over one eye and a grossly apricot scarf. As they were on shore leave, he was trying his hardest to entertain and help them relax.
That, and not his own vanity, was the reason he had dragged them along to a shopping mall on Cymru. Well, that and his insistence that is wasn't shore leave if you didn't get a souvenir.
With a wink and well wishes, he let them wander off, putting back the scarf but buying the fedora. McCoy was long gone, having spotted a liquor shop and promised to "Just have a peek". He was somewhat surprised to find Spock still standing there, looking somewhat at a loss for what to do.
"Come on, don't you want to explore?"
"As this is a man made facility, there is nothing to explore."
Jim rolled his eyes. "Come on. I'm finding you something to remember this trip by."
"I have an excellent memory." Spock reminded him, following anyway. "It is unnecessary for me to possess some object to facilitate this process."
"Oh don't be like that." Jim rolled his eyes, spotting a kitsch shop and making a beeline for it.
Spock said nothing about the garish nature of the shop, simply giving Jim a single eyebrow rise to indicate his immense disapproval of the ridiculousness of the entire thing. Jim rolled his eyes, glancing at a few mugs and baseball caps. Spock reluctantly, through morbid curiosity, glanced around the shop, eyes finally falling on a small display in the corner.
Jim's head snapped over when Spock left his side, trailing immediately after to see what had caught his interest. Neither noticed Scotty enter the shop.
Spock's eyes were trained on a locked box, inside were highly priced, hand carved wooden spoons. The intricacies in them seemed almost impossible, but for the skill of hands that had long practiced the art. Jim glanced in surprise at Spock, and saw a strange softness in his eyes.
"My mother once possessed a collection of similar utensils from Earth's history, all of them dating back several hundred years." He spoke in a matter-of-fact manner, but Jim could hear the love and affection in his voice.
"Can I help you?" The Cymru native working in the shop cocked her head to the side, coming over.
"Yeah, can I get this one?" Jim gestured to one of the most ornate ones on display.
Spock blinked at him in surprise. "Jim?"
Jim smiled warmly. "Well, it reminds you of your mother. You may not need it, but I want you to have it."
The shopkeeper stared at them a moment, blinking rapidly before what passed for an excited smile broke across her face and she tittered happily. "Oh of course. Should I get you a box for that?"
"Please." Jim smiled at her and she was off like a shot.
"This is unnecessary, Jim."
"Pft. Of course it is." Jim smirked at him. "But hey, maybe you can start a collection of your own. I think your mother would appreciate that, and then you know what to get each time we're on shore leave to shut me up."
Spock quirked an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. "Very well."
When she returned with the spoon in an equally well carved box, Jim positively beamed at her. She tittered excitedly as he gave the box, spoon and all, to Spock and paid. Spock accepted it with only a momentary look of reluctance, and a soft thanks for his efforts.
And Scotty said nothing, smirking to himself in the corner. Jim really needed to work on his cultural briefs. Well, it wasn't any concern to his chief engineer if some girl in a souvenir shop on vacation thought his Captain had just proposed to his First Officer. And, well, if they had no clue, then it was just a funny anecdote to mention to Keenser in his free time.
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Jim was hot, muddy, bloody and standing bent over at the waist panting heavily. Cultural snafu or not, he was going to give the Suomi council a piece of his mind once he got his breath back. Who the hell had what were essentially death matches as a party game? And damn it, it was a death match if he had to kill animals to not get maimed. Spock was breathing a bit more heavily than usual, but otherwise looking mostly unscathed. There was an artistic gash on his jaw line and a perfect split along his lips, while Jim could already feel the bruise on his cheek.
"Captain." Spock murmured, and Jim felt his hand at his side.
He glanced down to see the knife Spock had been given sheathed in his scabbard. His knife had been shattered by one of the creatures earlier in the fight. Spock had insisted Jim use the blade, as he was more proficient in hand to hand combat than the Captain. At some point it had been discarded, and he was grateful to Spock for returning it, before they could insist they fight more.
The crowd had gone silent. It was composed of the council, a few select warriors, and a handful of his crewmembers. Sulu wondered, momentarily aghast, if he was the only person who had read the cultural brief, as no one seemed to be paying attention…or if he was the only one who had been interested in that fact.
It took only seconds for the deafening cheering to start up and he just sighed, shaking his head. No one told them. Of course no one told them. Though he had a distinct feeling the extra festivities were just for them. They insisted Jim keep the blade and scabbard. Of course. It was one of those things, and, protests at being forced to participate in the fights in the first place aside, Jim was all too happy to keep them. And, hell, if no one actually knew the Captain and First Officer had just gotten engaged, well, who cared about it?
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Aestii was a lovely planet. Which was part of the reason Jim was okay with the ridiculous sports event the Enterprise had been volunteered for. Now, he got stuck in a three-legged race with Spock, which was not ideal, because damn those long legs. Also, there was a chain wrapped around their legs and locked shut. The key was in a different place for each team.
The objective was actually two part. They had to get the key, unlock themselves, and get back to the start line at the same time. Complex, yeah, but still hilarious.
People were all along the race routs, cheering and having immense fun. Spock was surprisingly helpful in the race, matching Jim's stride perfectly. What he wasn't prepared to find, however, was a river surrounded by padlocks. Weird. Uhura, who was watching, helpfully pointed to the bridge, where they found the key under a stone.
Thank the universe for Spock's observation skills.
Jim quickly carved their initials into the lock incase they needed to find it later for whatever reason, and lobbed the key into the water. Grinning madly, he turned to Spock and grabbed his elbow, racing back towards the start.
He helpfully missed Uhura face palming from the middle of a somewhat oblivious crowed, as all of the people around there were from the Enterprise, and not Aestii. It wasn't even like she cared, really. Jim was just an over excited kid and it was harmless. That said, she never thought she'd actually witness someone accidentally getting engaged. Well, they were both clueless, so it wasn't like an engagement mattered if neither party was in on the arrangement.
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Jim was not a happy camper. He'd been expecting some kind of pleasant event when he was sent to negotiate. Now, well, now he was sitting in a stuffy room on a bunch of pillows in harem pants glaring at anyone who got within vision range. Because apparently blonds were freaking gods on Dumafkat. Or, rather, the living embodiment of gods. Needless to say, they didn't have a lot of blonds walking around.
So he'd been secluded in the temple, with people offering to wait on him hand and foot. But his crew couldn't see him. And that pissed him off.
He was surprised when, as night fell, a shadow slipped into the temple. Pointy ears and gleaming eyes cause a wide grin to break across his face.
"Oh god am I glad to see you Spock. Get me the hell out of here."
"You are chained." Spock's attention was wisely focused on the 'ornate' chains impeding his movement. "You will be incapable of running on your own."
"I can run!"
"You are also barefoot Jim." Spock pointed out. "And the ground surrounding the temple is particularly festooned with sharp stones. I would request you remain still for the most part."
Jim's question was promptly answered when Spock threw him over his shoulder. Jim squeaked in alarm, even as someone came by to check on him, because such was his luck. Immediately the temple tender ran off to get a guard, screaming that the god was being kidnapped. Jim shouted at the indignity of it all as Spock left through a window, ignoring him.
They continued to give pursuit, with Jim shouting obscenities the entire time and beating at Spock demanding to be put down, until they reached the lodgings for Jim's crew. Spock set Jim down as Giotto ran out, phaser drawn. The crowd stopped though, staring at them as Jim clung somewhat timidly to his First Officer's arm.
It took Giotto all of three seconds to realize what happened. While everyone else had been cursing at the natives and trying to get Uhura down planet side to clear up the problem, something she immediately denied due to her dark skin being another treasured trait, he was talking to the locals, trying to solve it that way. He remembered the mural in the town square, and its lovely depiction of a bride-to-be being artistically kidnapped by her groom. Specifically, it was a demon and a god, which more than explained the dancing and singing they were now doing in the streets.
And, well, if it meant they got to leave with Jim, wasn't it actually a good thing he got engaged to Spock? Besides, it wasn't like it was a real engagement or anything.
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McCoy couldn't even remember when he'd said they had the conversation. It had been months ago. But of course Spock had remembered seeing it in Jim's room and asking about it. And of course he had noticed how old and damaged it was getting. And of course, in the course of his wanderings on Patuxet after their duties were over, when he saw this in a shop, he naturally thought of Jim.
A point of contention there was his wonder and confusion at how Jim had somehow managed to convince Spock that shopping for non-scientific items or books was a good thing. That was something he would explore later, along with the bottom of a whiskey bottle though.
He was surprised Spock, of all people, would have missed a cultural fact though. Hell, it was the entire reason they were on that stuffy, uptight planet.
Specifically, Jim had been asked, as a Captain of a starship, to proceed over the wedding of the ambassador's daughter and an ambassador from another planet's son. All very touching, really, and though Jim technically only had the authority to do so on his ship, the priests granted him the temporary jurisdiction there since they were from different planets.
Digression aside, McCoy had spoken with the nervous young groom, trying to help calm him down before the ceremony. Once he got him talking about her, there was nothing to worry about. He remembered, quite distinctly, the engagement practices though because the boy had laughed about how strange it seemed, but how he wanted it all to go well so did it anyway.
Jim glanced up from the thimble, a look of pleased embarrassment on his face. "Thanks. I should make you something."
"That is unnecessary." Spock's eyes flicked away for the slightest moment. "However, it would not be unappreciated."
Jim beamed. It wasn't many crewmembers that knew he could sew. "Seriously, though. Thanks."
McCoy sighed, returning to his meal like Spock hadn't just proposed to Jim. They hadn't even been aware of the ceremony and, honestly, it was just an exchange of gifts between friends. It was his own damn brain leaping out and attributing more to it than it was worth. Though, if rumors around the command crew were to be believed, this wasn't the first time it had happened. And that, he decided, was just like Jim.
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Chekov wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. Of course, he had been the only member of the Enterprise present, because for some reason his position was considered one of honor in the Gecesi culture.
It was a rather nice dinner, with almost everything being placed raw on the table and leaving them to cook it right there. It was such a big and fun endeavor to the little navigator. Or, it was until the chief dropped his spoon into his pudding like dessert splattering it on Chekov's sleeve. He had the dubious honor of sitting to his left at this private party.
The reason for this momentary eating etiquette faux pas was entirely the fault of his Captain and Commander. Specifically, their paranoia.
Jim had only just recently recovered from a poisoning from their last diplomatic event. The previous food had been fine, because it was a big, communal meal. There was no way to poison any specific food and hope only one of them would eat it, so it was safe.
The problem came in two parts, though. No electronics were being allowed, so Spock couldn't scan the pudding dessert for poisons. And the pudding desserts had been brought out in individual portions. That was because of a cultural importance attached to it. It was necessary at the diplomatic event for how auspicious it was supposed to be.
But Chekov had asked a server why it was being served in individual portions, rather than one big dish, while Jim and Spock were distracted with discussing something.
"Captain, as I have a much more sensitive palate then you and a greater resistance to poison I should check the desert for poison." He whispered carefully.
"I don't really like the idea of you getting poisoned." Jim pointed out, before sighing dramatically. "But I don't want to fight with you about this. Just…be careful."
Spock nodded and accepted Jim's spoon, taking a small portion of the pudding to determine if there was any poison in it. When he nodded, Jim began eating. That was when the chief dropped his spoon, because sharing this particular dish was seen as an engagement proposal.
Jim and Spock were somewhat bemused when the chief insisted the feast continue, with several more hours of eating. Chekov just sat quietly in his seat, flushed, waiting for it to end. Since they didn't know, they didn't have to add it to the report, and Chekov didn't have to write one, so he wasn't telling.
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Jim scowled, noticing the uncharacteristic way Spock rubbed his hands together. It was the fifth time he'd done it since they landed on the planet. He hadn't thought it was particularly cold, but, then, the temperature was pretty normal for him. Spock was used to much higher temperature, though, and it was probably quite nippy for him.
Jim halted the negotiations, earning surprised murmurs and beamed back aboard. He promptly received a comm, being reminded by Rand, who was still planet side, that she could have fetched anything he had forgotten.
That was true. It was also true that he didn't want her digging through his room to find the gloves he had made for Spock. He'd remembered, a couple planets ago, that Spock didn't have a pair of gloves. It had taken a while to decide what material to make them with, but he'd gotten them finished finally. Now, he couldn't remember why he hadn't just given them to him already.
He beamed back down, apologizing profusely to the negotiators and presenting Spock with the gloves. "I hope they fit."
Spock quirked an eyebrow, before slipping them on, marveling silently at Jim exceptional skill with needle and thread.
Rand very nearly slammed her head into the wall at the soft, moony looks the leaders were giving the pair. She'd just turned down a pair of gloves that morning because it was seen as a proposal. Well, whatever. They were a private people and weren't going to comment, except for some particularly enthusiastic congratulations at the end of negotiation, which they didn't realize for what they were.
And, well, if she happened to agree that it was adorable Jim would accidentally propose to Spock in front of them, that was her business.
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"This place is great!" Jim quite loudly expressed his delight with the surroundings.
They were on shore leave, after a long string of dangerous missions. Jim was, at that current moment, behaving like a child, rolling in grass and getting all assortment of small flowers in his hair. Chapel paused from the edge of the clearing, watching in amusement as Spock turned to give him a dry look. She had been tasked by McCoy to fetch them, gathering their presence for dinner.
"Your hair has become entangled with flowers." Spock pointed out helpfully.
Jim laughed, plucking a few from his hair. "Maybe I should make a crown of them or something. Yeah! Then we can make Bones wear it!"
Spock quirked an eyebrow before walking over to a small bush and plucking on of the large, white flowers growing there. "Perhaps one of this size would facilitate your actions?"
Jim leapt up with a laugh, going over to inspect it. "Hmm. Well, it is pretty…Here." He took another of the flowers, tucking it behind his ear and cocking his head to the side. "What do you think? Good look?"
Spock didn't seem to have an answer, so Jim pouted, removing the flower and reaching up to tuck it into Spock's hair. It looked quite ridiculous. Spock raised both eyebrows as Jim surveyed him with mock severity, before grinning.
"I like it."
"I see." Spock glanced at the flower in his hand a moment before quickly placing it in Jim's hair. "I believe it quite suits you."
Chapel stopped listening to the exchange at that point, turning away a moment to get her blush under control. Had they completely missed the lovers exchanging flowers earlier in the day? It was a common practice there that those who were engaged wear the flower in their hair and they just…She sighed, realizing what had just happened and turning around to march into the clearing.
"If you're both done playing with flowers," She smiled, putting her best 'McCoy' on. "It's dinner time."
Jim yanked the flower out of his hair, flushing. "Uh…Yeah. Okay. Thanks."
Spock removed his own flower much more slowly and began making his way back to their lodgings. Chapel sighed, wondering how two people could accidentally get engaged so often and never notice.
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The rec room was full of Jim's command team. It was one of the rare occasions they all got to sit around and hang out. He was standing by a table near the middle of the room, where Chekov was animatedly discussing modifications to the ship with Scotty and Spock. Well, Spock wasn't animated, but the discussion was still lively.
Uhura was singing with some of the other crew members. McCoy was eyeing him wearily, which really, Jim had no idea why he would do that. Sulu was trying to talk Giotto into a match of chess boxing. It was just about perfect.
In is excitement, Chekov bumped the table, knocking a circular, hollow gear from whatever they were playing with off. Jim knelt quickly when Spock made to get up and grab it, waving him down.
"I've got it." Jim told him.
Everyone stopped their discussion to stare. Jim was kneeling on one knee, presenting the gear with one hand, looking expectantly up at Spock. Spock accepted the gear, careful not to touch Jim. The second the room went quite, Jim's eyes widened and he started laughing. Spock quirked an eyebrow at him.
"Am I the only one who thinks that looked suspiciously like a proposal?" Jim cackled between gasps for air.
"If you are referring to the common Earth practice of kneeling on the ground to present an intended fiancé with a ring signifying a wedding engagement, then no, you are not." Spock returned the gear to the table, effectively dismissing the gesture.
The room started to fill with chuckles as it sank in what just happened. Jim grinned, not moving from his position.
"What do you say Spock? Want to be my first officer for ever?" His tone was clearly mocking and jovial.
Spock raised both eyebrows. "It would be impossible to do any action for a duration of time equal to 'ever'."
"Spoilsport." Jim mutter, standing up to raucous laughter.
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"So wait…let me get this straight." Jim found himself smirking at the very idea. "You want to be engaged to me?"
"That is not technically accurate." Spock told him.
"But that's totally a wedding ceremony." Jim pointed out.
Spock patiently didn't roll his eyes in a Vulcan way. "Jim, not all bonds are marriage bonds. This would be more similar to what one shares with family."
"So you want to adopt me as your brother?" Jim was still grinning, and Spock was beginning to suspect he knew exactly what he was asking and was just being difficult.
"Again, your statement is not entirely accurate." Was it just Jim, or was Spock starting to sound exasperated? "This is a bond to be shared only with one's closest friend, Jim."
The emphasis on Jim's name cause the grin to fall, being replaced by a genuine, tender smile. He understood just how important what Spock was asking him was. Spock was making him, not exactly family, but most definitely one of the most important people in his life. It was an honor.
"Okay. Okay." Jim couldn't help the devious smile sliding up his face. "I accept. I will gladly be your sort-of-brother slash questionably heterosexual life partner."
"I believe I have changed my mind, Jim." Spock deadpanned.
Jim laughed. "Oh hell no! You're the one who proposed, now get over here and get engaged to me in a utterly awesome not gay way."
The crew didn't really have to ask why Jim was chasing Spock around the ship loudly demanding he come back and propose right. There just wasn't a reason to. And Spock's declaration that it was not a proposal and if Jim was not going to take it seriously he was resending his offer was just hilarious because they all knew that wasn't true.
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So yeah. I think I have a problem. I write way too much Star Trek stuff…