Jim was on his way to a party with Gary Mitchell, one of his fellow cadets at Starfleet Academy. Jim had only known him a couple of weeks and during that time he’d been doing his best to get into Jim’s pants. So far unsuccessfully, Jim might add.
Gary was dressed as a snake, appropriately enough. His face covered in dark green scaly makeup, and his normally thick dark hair covered up by some snakeskin skull cap. Jim was dressed as a dog with big floppy ears.
Yeah, it was a Halloween party.
Jim wasn’t sure how he got talked into going as a puppy dog, but one thing he’d been doing since he’d left his apartment with Mitchell was keeping his tail away from him.
“You hear that?” Jim asked.
“I hear moaning.”
Gary chuckled nastily. “Probably someone’s getting lucky around here. It sure as hell isn’t me.”
“Not that kind of moaning, dummy. Sounds like someone’s in pain.”
“Who gives a fuck? I’m going to a party and we’re already late.”
Jim frowned and ignored him. “Someone’s hurt.” Jim started rushing down the street toward the end of the block.
“Jim! Goddamn it!”
At the end was a dark street that sort of dead-ended to a very small apartment complex. There were three guys and they had a hold of somebody who appeared to be barely conscious. They had the person, seemed to be a man, by the collar and were pummeling him in the face.
“Shit,” Jim exclaimed as Gary caught up. “That guy’s in trouble.”
“We don’t have time for this. Let’s go.”
“Gary—” There was a flash of lightening at that moment, it had been an overcast night, and it illuminated the man who the three guys had a hold of and were beating. Jim sucked in a breath. “Fuck. It’s Professor Spock.”
“Oh who cares? If that’s who it is you can both bite me. I’m not helping him.”
“Don’t be a dick.”
“He fucking failed me and I had to take that damn course again with Wilkins. Fuck him.” Gary grabbed Jim’s arm. “Let’s go. McCoy’s waiting.”
“Let go of me. I’m going to help him.”
“Oh fuck you too.”
He grabbed Jim’s tail and Jim heard a rip. “Let’s go.”
“Hey. Let me go. You just ripped this costume, asshole.” Jim shoved him. “I’m going to help him.”
“Fine, see you, loser.”
Jim ran down the street toward the guys that were beating the crap out of Spock. By the time he reached them, Jim was kicking out at the thug that had hold of Spock and was punching his face.
The guy yelped and dropped the Vulcan. Jim winced as he heard Spock’s head hit the pavement.
Jim swung for the next guy and connected with a crack of the guy’s jaw. The guy who he’d kicked was already scurrying away down the street. As Jim stepped toward the guy he’d already slugged, the third guy jumped on his back. Jim dropped to his knees as the guy wrapped his arm around Jim’s throat, squeezing.
As Jim wheezed for breath, he elbowed back sharply and was relieved when the dude’s hold on him loosened. He shifted away and rose enough to knee him in in the stomach.
“Let’s just get out of here,” the guy he cracked in the jaw said.
Jim rose, bending over, breathing heavily as he watched the last two guys follow after their friend. He glanced toward Spock, who was entirely too still.
He slid to his knees next to Spock. “Spock! Professor Spock!”
Spock’s chest rose and fell.
“Thank God, you’re breathing.”
But damn he looked in bad shape. And Jim was pretty sure he’d hit his head.
“Gotta get you to the hospital.”
Spock moaned low and then his eye fluttered open slowly.
Spock’s eyes were barely focused as he stared at Jim. “You are a…dog.”
“Well I…Spock! Crap.”
The Vulcan had passed out.