The Halloween Spirit

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters; Paramount does. I own this story; there is a difference. Any under the age of seventeen stay away. The same goes for anybody offended by the idea that two men could deeply and completely love each other. Archive at your own risk. Flames and feedback welcomed.

It was around late October, on Terra, nearing Halloween. And the crew was looking with anticipation to the 31st. The annual Halloween Ball would be taking place in the main recreation room, and once more, there would be a costume contest, best single or group costume won. And what was better, the stills in engineering, that, officially, nobody knew about, would be providing refreshments for the entire crew.

The entire crew was buzzing with ideas for costumes. They had to outdo the visiting commodore from last year, and his assistant, who, dressed as a couple of Orion dancing slave women, had swept the contest, before returning to their own base.

Of course, not *everybody* was interested in a costume contest, as was the case with Commander Spock. It was a source of arguments between he and his mate.

Spock found the whole idea of Halloween rather distasteful. He could not understand what would motivate humans to want to shed their own personalities for those of another, for an entire day. The origins were of more concern to him than he would let be known, especially because of his "Satanic" appearance. And the decorations that were appearing all over the ship were beginning to annoy him. And worse, orange was not easy on the eyes.

But most of all, he did not appreciate the fact that Kirk and McCoy had taken it upon themselves to try to scare him at least once before the day occurred. Kirk would try to find something that would scare him, and McCoy had taken to randomly appearing in an attempt to get some sort of reaction from the Vulcan.

Spock walked down the corridor to sickbay with reservation in his eyes. Whatever McCoy was planning, it would have something to do with this holiday, and he found himself wary, even of his mate.

The door to sickbay slid open, and he walked in. The lights were dimmed. Usually this meant McCoy was about to do something. But nothing jumped out. The door slid shut behind him, and it locked.

McCoy came out and waved at Spock. Spock sighed inaudibly. "Leonard," he asked, "Was there a reason you called me here, aside from the fact that you have taught yourself to crave my presence in my absence?"

McCoy smiled at him. "Yeah, Spock. Once and for all, I'm getting you to agree with me."

McCoy moved in closer and wrapped an arm around Spock's shoulders, "The costume contest."

Spock shook his head. "I have explained my opinion on this subject to you already, Leonard. How many times must I do so?"

McCoy smiled brighter. "I have a new argument that will make you see things my way." He leaned over to whisper something in the Vulcan's ear.

Spock's eyebrow crawled halfway into his hair. "Indeed, Leonard? Do you mean that?"

Spock nodded slowly in consent. "In that case, Leonard, I will agree. We can work on that later. I need to go to the bridge now."

McCoy sighed a little, "Yeah, I know. Go. Get out and I'll see you later." He leaned over to give Spock a peck on the cheek before the Vulcan turned and left.

McCoy watched at the doors slid shut. He whispered to himself, "Told you, I'd win, Jim." Then he went back to work, as well.

After their shifts had ended, Spock walked to the quarters he shared with McCoy. They were empty, it seemed, so he went to change out of his tunic. He heard soft footfall, and was not surprised when a loud "Boo!" echoed in his ear. With barely any reaction, beyond minor irritation, he turned around to the somewhat disappointed face of his mate.

Spock simply looked at him, and continued to undress until he stood only in his pants. "You will not succeed, Leonard," he said, going to the inner part of the room and sitting on the bed.

McCoy followed him, sitting so close to the Vulcan he was practically in his lap. "I'll just need to try harder, Spock," he replied, grinning.

"If you say so, Leonard," Spock answered, and then changed the subject. "What are your ideas regarding the costume contest?"

Spock looked at him incredulously. "I doubt the Captain would find that amusing, Leonard. And if I dressed up as the Captain, who would you be?

Spock looked at him, "Then we will have to appeal to a sense of irony. I have an idea."

A few days later, Halloween arrived, and at 1900, the Enterprise's Annual Halloween Ball began. The main lounge was darkened, dance music playing, the stills were at maximum efficiency, and all sorts of wonderful foods were out for the taking. But most impressive were the crewmen themselves, in all types of costumes, all awaiting the contest.

Scotty, dressed as William Wallace, authentic clan kilt and all, approached Kirk, clad in a toga. "Captain, let me guess, Tiberius?"

Kirk smiled at the engineer, "Nope, Claudius. Good guess though." He sipped his brandy, and examined the room. A good number of crewmembers were already around, and the competition looked stiff for the contest. A pretty young yeoman dressed as Cleopatra walked by; Kirk smiled at her. Being the judge had its benefits.

Chekov walked up to him, drinking a glass of ale. His beard and mustache made him look for more menacing than he truly was. Kirk examined him, "You make an excellent Lenin, Mr. Chekov."

Chekov blushed slightly. "Thank you, Captain. You make a good Tiberius, as well."

The Russian shrugged his shoulders, "If you say so, Sir." Then he went to talk with Scotty.

Kirk turned back to the crowds, wondering who would win the contest this year. He managed to have a dance with the yeoman dressed as Cleopatra, and he was enjoying himself. On the dance floor, he bumped into Nurse Chapel, sporting pointed ears, and lines on her face. He smiled at her, "You know, Christine, T'Pau is Spock's grandmother, so this won't work."

She smiled back at him. "Captain, it took a while, but I accepted him and Len. This is just for fun." She began to walk away from him, then stopped and turned back. "Great Tiberius costume, Captain." Then she left.

Kirk was beginning to grow irritated. "I'm not Tiberius, he yelled to her. I'm Claudius."

The doors swished open, and there were a few gasps from crewmembers. In stepped a very pointed eared, horned, and tailed Satan, with his arm around a brown-haired, tunic-clad, angel, wings and a halo in place. Most of the crew was surprised McCoy had managed to convince Spock to participate in such an "illogical" holiday as Halloween. And their choice of costumes were...quite surprising.

Kirk noticed them out of the corner of his eye, and walked closer. When he realized who they were, he burst out laughing. When he finally was able to contain himself, he slapped McCoy on the back, "Well, Bones, I have to hand it to you, you won the bet. But how?"

McCoy smiled back at him, "Just call it one of the privileges of being his bondmate, Jim." He turned with fond eyes towards Spock. "And surprising as this may sound, these costumes were his idea."

McCoy reached up to caress the tip of Spock's left ear. "You know you love it." Spock stood, letting the human touch him, not saying anything.

Kirk smiled, "Well, unless somebody manages to blow you guys out of the water, I'll think you'll win. But I gotta be fair, and the judgment doesn't start for another 15 minutes."

McCoy nodded, "Yep. Thanks for the compliments, Jim. Oh, and very nice Tiberius costume you have there."

This caused Kirk to blow his top, "I'M CLAUDIUS, DAMMIT!" he yelled, louder than he meant, causing the crew to stare in his direction. He coughed.

"Sorry," he said, and then a devilish look entered his eyes. "Let me get the two of you something to drink to make up for it." He walked to the refreshment table and returned a few moments later, handing a brandy to each man.

McCoy took a sip of his, and smiled. Spock eyed his warily, took a sip, stopped, and then reached into the glass, pulling out what appeared to be an eyeball. He raised an eyebrow and looked at the Captain.

Kirk shrugged his shoulders, "Ah, well, guess you're too good for me, Spock." He smiled at the Vulcan. Spock merely nodded again.

Kirk looked around the room, "I guess I can get on with the judging. Get ready to win."

It was, of course, at this moment that Lieutenants Sulu and Uhura walked in, arm in arm, dressed as each other. It took most of the officers a few moments to realize that they *were* in costume. And then laughter echoed through the hall.

Back in their shared quarters, Spock and McCoy were changing out of their costumes. McCoy had gone into the bathroom for a much-needed shower, and Spock sat on their bed, wearing only his Starfleet-issue boxer shorts. It had been about twenty minutes since McCoy had entered the shower, and the water had stopped running more than six minutes ago. No sounds emanated from the head.

Curious, Spock went to the door. "Leonard?" he called into the room. But there was no answer. He slowly opened the door; the room was dark. Concern overtaking him, he moved fully into the room.

From behind, a loud, "BOO!" came. Momentary shock caused him to turn around slowly, to face the grinning face of his bondmate, clad in a towel.

Spock recovered quickly. "I was not frightened, Leonard, merely surprised," he said, exiting the bathroom and heading for the sleeping alcove.

McCoy followed behind him. "It's close enough in my book," he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Spock did not press the issue, merely looked at the human with an intense gaze, which meant he was thinking.

"Leonard, since we did not win the costume contest, does this mean I will not receive the reward you promised me?" He cocked his head to the side, the question in his eyes.

McCoy smiled at him, before reaching up to pull him onto the bed, kissing him deeply. After many moments, he released the Vulcan's mouth, only long enough to say, "Oh, you'll get it alright, Spock. Just because you found the spirit of Halloween," then he pressed the Vulcan to the mattresses, and the two enjoyed a very pleasurable Halloween treat.