It was a fucking UNICORN.

The unicorn was pure white, and graceful, and had expressive, intelligent emerald green eyes that would look right into your soul. It had a proud, long pointed horn, shiny and clear like it was made out of polished, cut diamond. (Spock indicated that it probably was.) Its hooves shone like diamonds as well, and its mane and tail were boisterous, proud and perfectly curled. It was unbelievable, and exactly the kind of animal you'd expect to live on this planet.

It was the kind of place where candy canes grew on the bushes, trees sprouted cotton candy, and the rivers ran with a liquid that was basically cherry soda and rum. Solid milk chocolate acorns fell from the trees into green spun-sugar grass, and the sky was a beautiful pinkish orange, and never too bright, with no glare in their eyes.

There was probably some horrible catch that they would run into in the next couple of days of negotiations with the natives, but it didn't matter, because right now there was a fucking UNICORN.

It wasn't the only planet with unicorns. The natives of this world, who just discovered warp drive, had colonized four planets in their solar system, and according to legend they all had unicorns. But this society was very urban, and very sexually liberal, and these particular unicorns would only come near virgins. The natives didn't have a recorded unicorn sighting in hundreds of years, but as soon as the landing party arrived in the rural countryside, *~POOF~*, a unicorn appeared, made a bee-line for Chekov and started nuzzling the boy's hair.

After translating old texts and studying current events, Spock and Uhura warned them of a danger that a very small portion of the native population would hunt the unicorns for the "magical" properties of their horns. Or they would if anybody on this planet made it to adulthood a virgin. It was decided that they would not inform anyone that they had, apparently, caught a unicorn, and would leave it where it was. But nobody could bear to look at Chekov's little face and tell him he couldn't horse around for a while with what appeared to be a very willing looking unicorn.

They didn't care about saying the same thing to Jim.

So Chekov got to ride around on it. Jim watched from thirty feet away, pouting, and for the first time in his life wishing he was a virgin. IT WAS A FUCKING UNICORN. Jim had a natural inclination to ride basically everything, especially a goddamn mythical beast of, apparently, several worlds.

The unicorn wouldn't even look at him. Jim would try to get closer and the unicorn would toss its head, and make a sound like it was scoffing, like it was disgusted for fuck's sake. Jim had literally never been more offended by an alien race, even the one that made him dress up like a Nazi.

Sulu, who could get within a few feet of the unicorn (apparently virginity is a trait that wears down with each encounter, at least when it's being measured by magical creatures), chased after Chekov and the unicorn, laughing and shouting and taking about 10 billion pictures on his tricorder, which no doubt Jim would have to see over and over as they were tagged on the networking page of every single officer on the ship.

He looked between the unicorn, thirty feet away, and his chief medical officer who stood by his side. Bones looked smugger and happier than he had a right to be, looking at the ensign and pilot enjoying RIDING AROUND ON A UNICORN with an expression that was... fatherly? Jim scowled.

What's the point of being the captain of a five-year-long voyage to unknown worlds if you couldn't ride a unicorn when you found one?, he thought about asking Bones. He wanted to tell Bones that it one of his privileges as a Starfleet captain to take the lead in such adventures, that if anybody was going to take the risk of riding around on a T-rex, or a pterodactyl, or a dragon, or a unicorn, or a sea serpent, then it was him. Every day he was expected to put his life on the line for his crew, to sacrifice himself for the chance that the Enterprise and those who dwelled within her could live. The least they could do was let him ride around on stuff. And even though Jim was such a slut, he was still young. Why else would he sign up for such a voyage? He wanted to explore, to experience, to drink from the chalice of life! That's why he hadn't been a virgin for ten years, so suck on that you stupid unicorn!

But typically, it didn't come out as eloquently as that. It came out as: "I wanna ride the unicorrrrrnnnnnnnn!"

"Don't be such an infant," Bones said. "You got to ride on that T-rex and pterodactyl last week. Anyway, I bet you anything that this will be the last day Chekov will be able to catch unicorns."

Jim shot Bones a look. "What?"

Bones nodded over at the unicorn, who was standing in front of Sulu, posing on command. Lifting one leg, rearing up on his hind legs like heroic old paintings (Jim didn't even think Earth horses could actually do that on purpose), tossing its gorgeous mane. Chekov was giggling and red-faced and talking animatedly, and Sulu stared at him, totally besotted.

"Just because YOU would've jumped Chekov's bones on the first date doesn't mean the rest of us would," Bones said. "There happens to be some gentlemen left in Starfleet."

"Sulu and Chekov? What?"

"You should pay more attention to your bridge crew. Anyways, I gotta unicorn back on board you can ride," Bones said filthily.

"Huh?" Jim blinked. Something about this planet of cotton candy trees and cherry soda rum rivers was making him profoundly stupid. Bones blinked back and it slowly dawned on him. "Ohhhh," he said. "Okay!"

Chekov was flushed and giddy and happy when they got back to the ship, clutching onto Sulu's arm and staring up at the pilot.

Jim felt much the same way about two hours later, and Bones definitely made up for the unicorn thing.