Title: Anniversaries

Author: Laura Jacquez Valentine

Series: TOS, TNG, TSU

Codes: K/S, P/Q

Rating: PG

Summary: Happy anniversary, ASCEM!



Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom owns Star Trek and affiliated characters.

 I make no profit, and own this story, which is a birthday present for

ASCEM.



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Anniversary I.



Jim Kirk nudged Spock with his foot for the third time.  Spock ignored

him for the third time.  "We should go, Spock.  It's special."



"Jim, I have work to do.  You know how busy Sciences has been for the

past month.  We are falling behind."



"They'll never forgive you."



"They understand how important this is."



"I'll never forgive you."



Spock turned in his chair, eyebrow raised.  "I do not believe you."



"I swear I won't forgive you.  After all they've done for us!  It's

been a year, Spock.  Surely we can acknowledge that!"  He watched the

Vulcan carefully, waiting for the flicker of vulnerability--  "Are you

*sure* you don't want to see Greywolf again?  He's tasty in a

sandwich, don't you think?"



Spock sighed heavily.  "Very well.  We'll go.  First, however--" and

he struck like a snake, grabbed Jim and knocked him flat.  "First, you

must be punished."  



"Being tangled up with you is punishment?"



Spock kissed him quickly.  "No.  But this is."  And he began to tickle

Jim mercilessly.



----



Anniversaries II.



Q flashed into the TSU Ballroom with a huge cake held over his head. 

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"  he called out to the assembled partiers, and tossed

the cake lightly onto a table which held nothing more important than

Ruth's collection of whips.  Fortunately, Ruth herself was across the

room acquiring nookie, and didn't notice.



"Spectacular double entendre, naming this the Ballroom," he said. 

"The artwork is exquisite, for such pitiful human minds."



"I thought you'd gotten beyond that, Q," said a voice behind him.



"Mon capitaine!  You are here!  How wonderful."



"Yes."  Picard took Q's arm and firmly steered him into a corner. 

"This is a party, Q.  Try not to be too destructive."



"But don't you like the artwork?"  



Picard looked up at the beautifully painted ceiling, full of nudes in

various states of nookie.



"Yes, but--"



"Would you like to *be* the artwork?"



"Q--"  but he got no further, for he found himself standing naked on

the table next to the cake.



Q slipped an arm around his waist from behind.



"Bend over, Jean-Luc.  Let's make art."



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The End