The Plan

Summary: Valentines suck. Jim decides that the only way to get rid of annoying propositions is to fake a relationship with Spock. Now all they have to do is get caught in a compromising position by someone in the crew so the word will spread. Piece of cake. Right?

(Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership to any part of the Star Trek franchise. This story is written solely for entertaining purposes and there is no profit made from this.)

Warnings: Some bad language and allusions to sex. Not a full-blown lemon, but there is malexmale interactions of a seemingly erotic nature. Reader discretionis adviced.

During this story, there will be references to a story called 'A series of Unfortunate Misunderstandings' and it contains a number of one-shots that will make a few things a bit clearer. Do not worry, this story is supposed to leave you a bit confused about details as it is the way Spock and Jim experience it.

Thank you for reading.

The Plan

Large green eyes stared up at him expectantly, a sanguine smile playing on plump pink lips. She appeared to be confident, only the slightly nervous way she was twirling a lock of brown hair around her finger showed uncertainty.

Standing straight, arms behind his back he looked into her eyes and pushed the small spark of annoyance into submission. "I have to decline your invitation. I am Vulcan, and as such I see no logic in celebrating the death of a priest who helped Christians in Rome while under the reign of Claudius II. The logic of this event eludes me further as the man in question was sentenced to death and was stoned and clubbed before he was beheaded. I see no logic in associating his death to romanticism, nor do I see the logic in receiving or giving efflorescence or confectionery. If you would please indicate what made you believe I would partake in such foolish and nonsensical practices, I will change my behavior accordingly." He waited for an answer, but none was given. She was staring at him wide-eyed, her mouth slightly gaping and doing a rather impressive job of looking utterly rebuked.

"If that was all, please excuse me, I have matters to attend." he nods before walking past the woman and continued towards the bridge. He might have been a little... breviloquent with yeoman Bates, but he had been propositioned a total of six times since 07:30, which was quite considerable seeing as it was now half past eleven.

And that only counted today.

Spock was beginning to find it taxing to repeat the same statement over and over, therefore it had... evolved over time. What had started as a simple 'I must decline. I see no logic in celebrating a day based off of baseless myths that include multiple saints and has no real correlation to February fourteenth' had now changed considerably.

The tiny spark of annoyance flared up again as he entered the bridge. He had during the last seven point two-six days been accosted thirty-nine point four times. Point four only because he had on one occasion ignored a nurse trying to invite him to celebrate the very illogical day of Saint Valentine, and simply walked past her as she spoke to him. He was beginning to feel a most illogical aversion to the jubilee.

How peculiar.

He nodded to Lt Commander Uhura and sat down at his science station, beginning to recalibrate the sensor readings since it was apparent that they were not the way they were when he left the console at the end of his last shift. His jaw set sternly as he repeated the last frequencies before he was done. He understood if his relief wanted their own settings, but he believed it was pure courtesy to change back whatever you had altered.

Not for all, evidently.

He was just about to check for the latest report as the doors opened and an amused James Kirk entered the bridge.