Kirk glared at him wordlessly, but was actually pondering the same question himself. Spock really had relaxed a lot in the two years since his return from Gol, but there was only that much fun to be had with a Vulcan in the midst of a very illogical human street gathering. And WooDyDay definitely was one of the weirdest and most garish open air events in San Francisco. First held about 20 years ago, it combined some motives of the ancient Flower Power movement with VooDoo culture (at least, the part with the skulls and fake snakes) and the Gay Pride Parades (from way back when they were effectively needed). And of course, on top of this was always the latest trend, which this year meant that many people wore sunglasses twice as big as would be sensible.
McCoy put on his, which gave him the look of an incredibly badly-clothed Mafia boss with his white hat, white-striped pink jacket and pink pants.
"There is no sun," Spock said pointedly.
"That's why I wear them," McCoy replied just as pointedly.
Spock lifted a brow; Kirk heaved a sigh. They were on this level of understanding ever since they had started at his apartment, and Kirk felt an urge to throttle them both for being that much their stubborn selves.
"Let's go down to the beach," he said, and walked forward, expecting both to follow. They didn't disappoint him.
"At least you got him something decent to wear," McCoy stated on his left. "Really sexy t-shirts." He tugged at Kirk's short sleeve, distorting the rainbow-colored, flowery print.
"Decent clothes are something else," Spock replied on his right. "But I was told it was fitting for this gathering." The pained look on his face was priceless.
"Why, Spock, you look good in strong colors, and the pants give a nice view," McCoy said. "Just as Jim's do. A remarkable sight, the two of you."
Kirk kept his silence, because, although he thought the same (and that was why he'd bought them in the first case), he doubted that Spock was happy to be so visible. Of course, in principle everyone knew they were a couple, but San Francisco was their place of work, and they had encountered some 'Fleet colleagues already. So Spock, obviously not keen on giving anyone food for rumors, was staying in a more than secure distance from Kirk ever since they had stepped out of the door.
And this in a middle of slightly inebriated folks, of which most were holding hands or cuddling and kissing.
Kirk heaved another sigh. Well, maybe with the dawn, Spock would relax a bit more.
If they survived until then.
The beach was full, of course, and Kirk stopped on the edge of the stairways, staring down.
"The 'Bond Street Pianists' are playing on the Southern Promenade," McCoy said.
Spock lifted a brow; Kirk frowned.
"Hey," McCoy stated, and raised his hands in exaggerated apology, "you asked!" He looked at Spock. "Any better ideas?" But Spock remained quiet.
"Spock?" Kirk gazed at the Vulcan, who stood ramrod straight as usual. Quite a discrepancy to the completely let-loose behavior of the people around them.
"As my suggestion would be met with disapproval from you both, I rather refrain from offering it," Spock finally replied stoically.
McCoy shed Kirk an 'I've told you' glance.
Kirk was about to heave another sigh, but was soothed by the sight of a group of young girls in long, pseudo- Hawaiian skirts and with nothing more than patches of plastic flowers over their breasts. As he smiled, one of them caught it and came closer.
"Fun and long life," she sing-sang, and took some real flowers from a small bag she was carrying.
"Fun to you, too," he replied smartly, and was rewarded by her with a flower in his hair and a brief kiss on his lips. Then she made the round, first to McCoy (with the kiss lasting a bit longer) and Spock (where she thankfully refrained from doing more than lacing the flower in his hair - there's nothing like a Vulcan's frozen face to keep a human away).
A second later, the group disappeared down the stairs.
McCoy looked after them with a gleam in his eyes. "That's why I love WooDyDay," he said, and rubbed his chin.
"I bet," Kirk grinned, but became more serious again under Spock's slightly accusing gaze. Spock removed the flower from his own hair and turned it in his hands.
"A dianthus caryophyllus" he said. And then, before anyone could stop him, he took a bite from the blossom.
McCoy gulped, then broke into laughter. Kirk thought about vanishing into the concrete. "Spock..." he sighed.
"They are edible," Spock declared, and ate the remaining half.
"I bet they are," McCoy said, "but they're not supposed to be eaten. They're just for decoration, Spock."
"It is a waste of material to use real flowers for such a useless purpose. I am also irritated about the use of the Vulcan greeting in such a distorted way."
"It's this year's slogan, Spock, nothing more," Kirk said.
"What good is a long life without fun?" McCoy said, giving away his formidable chance to launch on the word 'irritated'. But he didn't need to prick Spock today - the Vulcan obviously didn't give away one single chance of stepping on their human toes.
Besides, he began taking pity on Jim.
"The sun's going down," he said, merely to change the topic.
Kirk nodded. The only nice prospect right now. However, how he'd manage to survive the next hour, he wasn't sure.
Spock looked upwards. "The weather condition seems to have worsened in the last hour. Maybe an umbrella would have been a more logical equipment than sunglasses." He glared at McCoy's oversized ones again.
McCoy twitched his lips and was just about to answer, when the first droplets of water fell on the ground.
"Damn," Kirk mumbled.
Spock looked slightly relieved.
For Kirk the way back felt a lot shorter (probably because McCoy's and Spock's intake of air was really spent on breathing instead on needling each other), but when they were almost there, the rain washed down so heavily that they searched for shelter in a nearby house entry.
McCoy folded his arms and leaned against the wall to look outside into the wet, darkening street. "What a pity," he said. "It would be almost romantic if that girl was here."
Kirk looked at Spock. The Vulcan's hair was wet, clinging to his head in shimmering black. The colorful t-shirt clung, too, showing the sexy body underneath. And the pants...
Kirk lifted his gaze from the lower regions up to Spock's face again, staring at the lips for a moment before eyeing McCoy. The doctor smiled and then looked away. Outside, nobody was walking anymore.
He turned back to Spock. "Admit it, you paid the weather control for this mess," he whispered.
"Never," Spock whispered back. A small smile was dancing in his eyes.
"What never?" Kirk asked, and stroked some wet strands out of Spock's forehead.
"I would never admit to it." Before Kirk could say more, Spock tilted his head and kissed him. It was a chaste kiss, but compared to the Vulcan's usual standards in public, it was shockingly intimate.
And even more shocking was that he did it again. And again...
"The rain's gone," McCoy said a while later, and glanced over his shoulder.
His friends slowly parted and restored their dignity before stepping at his side.
"Yes, looks good," Kirk said, and eyed the people streaming back to the beach, clearly not at all eager to go home right now.
Spock reached up and unlaced the flower from Kirk's hair.
Kirk's eyes widened. "You're not going to eat that one, Spock," he said in slight horror, and tried to take it.
"No, Jim. I am attempting to get 'in the right mood'," Spock replied, and put the flower in his own hair, arching one graceful brow when his human companions broke into relaxed chuckles.
They left their shelter and walked back to the beach, Spock and Kirk in front with their fingers almost touching, McCoy right on their heels with a broad smile on his face.
Nothing like San Francisco to work some miracles.