#kirk's plan somehow works anyway

[trek-tracks]

And you can see how happy their faces are about it

[newstedz]

Hiiiiii can you write something where Jason and the reader have nothing else to do so they sit on the bed all day (smut)

i love him sm oh my godddddd

i find it really funny that despite my acc being named after him I made 2 kirk posts before anything jason related but!! redemption!!!!!! really sorry this took sm longer than it should've i just haven't had time to sit down and WRITE but anyways its mostly just lazy morning sex

light shines through the curtains of your shared bedroom, your heavy lids lifting to the sensation of soft lips against your neck. calloused hands find their way beneath your shirt, lightly brushing against the the underside of your breast.

"mornin'." jason murmurs, his breath warm and ticklish against your neck. you don't have the energy to do anything other than give a tired groan, but you were far from disgruntled. it was rare for the two of you to be able to sleep in together, uninterrupted by the chaos of everything around you. but today was different. no tour bus, no recording, just the two of you in bed, for as long as you wanted. and by the looks of it, neither of you planned on getting up anytime soon.

he continues his soft brushes against your neck as you begin to feel just how hard he was by the way it was pressing against you from behind. it wasn't hard to tell what he wanted, but just climbing on top of him and giving him what he wanted would be far too easy. the least he could do was work for it, to prove to you that somehow, between the shows and the busy schedules, you were still what he wanted.

there was no resentment, though. you knew it wasn't his fault that he was away. you hadn't noticed the long silence that had grown between you as you were lost in your own thoughts. when he finally speaks up again, it's hushed, slightly hoarse.

"you're so pretty, baby" he murmurs against you, slowly beginning to grind against your ass. you hum, almost skeptically, like you couldn't believe him, after all this time. jason doesn't seem to pick up on your insecurity though, providing enough reassurance when he mumbles hungrily. “need you, please?”

you’ve been together long enough to know what he was getting at, and don’t have the patience or energy to tease him. you give a groggy nod of approval. “mhm.”

he grins at this development, followed by him hastily tugging down his boxers and tugging your panties to the side. his hand slides between your thighs, lifting one up for easy access. he presses a kiss to your cheek, accompanied by a silent “thank you.” he teases the head of his cock at your entrance, whispers an array of sweet praises as he slides in. “fuck, baby.. feel so good.”

you moan as he pushes in, eyes briefly fluttering shut. jason’s hand snakes it’s way down to your clit, aiding the stretch with a gentle hand. “i've got you. doin’ so good.” he praises. he starts with slow, languid thrusts accompanied by a moan each time he bottoms out. your head’s already growing fuzzy with pleasure, rewarding each one of his movements with a soft whimper of your own.

normally he would have the self restraint to go so slow, but he's tired, lazy and needs to savor every single moment of this. every slow roll of his hips eliciting another soft mewl from you, the tingling sensation in your core growing with each movement.

but he starts to grow restless, indicative of how close he was getting. his hand continues to toy with your clit, thrusts becoming more purposeful as he feels your walls flutter around him.

"you close?"

you can't focus enough for words, giving him a little "mhm" of approval, followed up by yet another moan. he holds your body flush against his , almost possessively. "fuck, baby, I know. m'gonna cum." he whispers breathily against the shell of your ear. its not long until both of you fall apart, and absolute mess as you come down from the high of your orgasms.

though in the afterglow, the clinging of the sheets to your skin and the shared warmth of your bodies started to become almost suffocating.

"we should get up." you groan.

jason's head perks up. he'd stay right here all day, if you'd let him. "should we? we don't have anywhere to go. could stay here all day, if you want." he replies with a knowing grin, as if he already knew your answer. who were you to turn down an offer like that?

"sounds good."

[respocked]

I'm thinking about work anyway so fuck it

Star Trek Public Primary School AU 🛸 !

Kirk

-the headmaster!

-went into education because of his own unfortunate childhood

-has an uncanny ability to tell which student has a bad home life

-remembers everyone's name, even if you went to his school 5 years ago for 2 months

-misbehaving teenagers send to his office get some candy and a motivational speech that changes the course of their lifetime

-most days can be found hovering suspiciously outside of spock's classroom

-way better with older students, 12-13 - has absolutely 0 idea what to do with young children

-which is awkward when while waiting for spock outside his classroom he tries to make small talk with them (-so... son... read any good books lately? -i can't read!)

Spock

- teaches early education, 6 to 9 year olds

-greatly overqualified for the position, had a human psychology degree, interspecies child development degree, highly regarded in scientific community

-could be teaching university but prefers to spend his time sitting on carpets with children drawing clouds

-his class is extremely nontraditional - no desks, sitting on the floor, tons of meditation, classes in nature

-does not adhere to the program at all but somehow his classes always score the best on all exams

-turned down a position in a trendy montessori school for a public one

-parents either go out his way for their child to attend his class or request someone else - either from homophobic or xeniphobic reasons

Uhura

-the school's cultural assistant!

-also runs student exchanges with other countries and planets

-speaks every minority language that has representation in the student body

-also a substitute teacher

-she can give a super interesting lessons

-but takes 0 shit from students who won't respect her

-runs an extracurricular activity with spock when she teaches immigrant and refugee students to express their emotions with music

-is the best at pitching a project idea for funding, which is why her office and spock's classrom are the best equipped ones in the school

-spock's bestie, they hang out after work (gay/lesbian solidatity)

-still lives with her parents, they're super close

-wants to date but it's too boring compared to writing another lesson plan

Bones

-the school nurse! & in charge of nutrition

-teenagers are afraid of him

-small children absolutely love him

-takes his daughter to work and lets her draw with crayons on his important papers

-also constantly in spock's classroom, but to complain

-"damnit, spock! give them all the vulcan cuisine you want, but don't send them crying to me after they get an allergic reaction!"

-"meditation? maybe have them meditate on doing some real work for once"

-but when parents with pitchforks come to complain abt spock's methods he defends him like a lion

-he sends them piles after piles of scientific proof of why spock's method are actually the bestest and most efficient

-when kirk thanks him for stepping in he pretends like he doesn't know what he's talking about

Chapel

-teaches sex ed!

-the sweetest teacher ever

-one of those teachers that noone is intimidated by but noone disobeys because noone wants to makes her upset

-uses her Blonde White Straight Pretty Woman priviledge to convince reluctant parents to sign up their kids for sex ed

-goes All Out on halloween tho

-you know she is there, dressed like a witch, running an educational halloween themed activity! paper bats hanging from the ceiling!

-has gluten free and vegan candy in case the winners have a food sensivity!

-has a secret crush on Uhura and Spock both

Chekov

-teaches IT

-burned out miracle kid

-graduated university when he was younger than his current students

-lets students play roblox on the computers

-and teaches them how to torrent

-somehow noone from the faculty knows where he lives

-background check turns up nothing

-"did you know computers were invented in russia?"

-puts 0 effort in but somehow his students love him

-little girls take sneak photos of him to edit in a flower crowns

Scotty

-teaches a woodworking & engineering class and does janitor duties on the side!

-like kirk, absolutely 0 idea on how to treat younger kids

-strict

-has to be, no joking around power tools!

-but you know praise from him hits different

-will tell students he's proud of them when they make theit first little table

-can fix everything

-say "this interactive blackboard is broken!" three times to summon him

-marries to his career, teaching fulfills his paternal calling

Sulu

-teaches biology!

-rule follower

-stressed out about exams 3 years before his students

-not very inventive but everyone wants his class because there is a hamster in the classroom

-classroom full of houseplants

-if you agree to water them when he's away you will receive a 50 page manual on proper misting techniques

-not strict at all but will give a dressing down to a student who is seen treating a living thing badly

-can be bribed with plants

[myenterpriseisparked]

Rank the Star Trek captains based on whether or not they're expert road trippers

Archer - He tries. So hard. He burns a CD mixtape to listen to and rents a huge RV that only kind of works. He plans out a bunch of stops but "leaves room in the schedule for unplanned adventures :)" and then proceeds to not follow the plan at all and everything goes wrong. Actually, now that I think about it, Archer on a roadtrip would probably just mostly be the plot of the movie "RV."

Pike - He lets Una plan the stops and he METICULOUSLY plans the food. He and Una take a survey about what all their crew wants to see along the way and try so hard to integrate them all into the trip. He plays LOTS of car games, like Eye Spy or that one game where you count animals on your side of the vehicle until you see a graveyard and have to start over or that other game where you describe a movie plot badly and everyone has to guess what it is. He lets Uhura control the music and Spock read the map and Ortegas drive. The plan for the trip goes off the rails, of course, but everyone ends up having a blast anyway. Overall a SOLID roadtrip.

Kirk - Kirk takes everyone to see every single tourist trap they can find and, you know what? It's fun. Is the World's Largest Truckstop really all that special? No, but the memories they make there are. I also imagine his roadtrip largely takes place in Iowa and other parts of the Midwest so a lot of the trip is rolling cornfields. Overall not a terrible trip, if a little slow and nutty.

Picard - Due to being European, Picard's idea of a roadtrip is a little... different. The crew is a little confused as to why they are only doing about 3 hours of driving a day, but they do appreciate that it's through Wine Country, where the rolling hills are lovely. I imagine Picard plans a "themed trip" (wine tasting and touring) and Riker is the one to throw in the fun tourist traps they do end up visiting. Q is somehow at every single place they stop. Lwaxana is at a few of them too.

Sisko - Sisko takes everyone on a tour of the MLB baseball fields. He meticulously plans places to eat (mostly cajun places that he critiques as 'not as good as his dad's, but acceptable.') and fields to visit. In the meantime, Jadzia picks some more... colorful places to visit in the evenings. Different groups of people get lost but they always find each other. Everyone is a little wary of visiting baseball fields, but once they find out that it was Jake's idea to cheer his dad up, everyone acts like each field is the most fascinating thing they have ever seen. In the end, the trip is a little tedious, but they have all bonded over the solidarity of making Sisko feel better.

Janeway - Janeway drives through the middle of nowhere. Absolutely no cell signal ever. Google Maps will not work. They stop every hour or so to look at the sights. At several points, their van gets robbed and they have to craft new supplies as they go. They make some "road enemies" (other roadtrippers that get competitive about parking spots and camping areas and stuff) and get in several fights (that they win). They camp alongside the road instead of staying in hotels and it's kinda miserable but it builds a lot of relationships and character. Their van breaks down a lot but they always fix it themselves. B'Elanna ends up souping up the engine about 4 different times. In the end, they all get home pretty much dead on their feet, but the whole crew is planning the next road trip anyway.

Freeman - She has a schedule that no one follows and she yells about it a lot. The road trip keeps getting completely derailed. They absolutely do not hit any planned stops and they have to replace each of the van's tires 3 times. Good news, however, is that they got a GREAT sale on all the trinkets and stuff that they bought along the way so everyone is still having an okay time.

Dal - Barely has a plan. He basically piled everyone in a vehicle one day and started driving. They stop whenever they feel like it and do odd jobs to earn enough money to keep going. The end goal is to reach San Francisco by the end, but Dal has to keep them backtracking for various reasons and they're having a heck of a time understanding exactly how this brand-new Chevy Silverado with a fancy computer system that they accidentally stole works. Everyone has fun anyway, even though they are also kinda lowkey running from the cops.

Burnham - I don't honestly know enough about Burnham as a captain to say for sure but I think she and Saru would plan a pretty chaotic lil road trip that kinda jumps all over the country in a strange order. Lots of zigzags and backtracking and stuff. I think they have fun though?

FINAL RANKING:

1st Place - Pike

2nd Place - Kirk

3rd Place - Janeway

4th Place - Sisko

5th Place - Archer

6th Place - Burnham

7th Place - Picard

8th Place - Dal

9th Place - Freeman

[oumaheroes]

Yes ‘how the UK fit in within their politics’ is defo an interesting topic for me! Please shoot me your insights should you feel like it!

The Cleaner

Characters: Scotland

The Captain (England)

The Artist (France)

------

‘Who’s he?’

The lady next to her looked up from the elections sheets she was running through, ‘Which one?’

‘The reddish haired one. Big guy.’

She squinted down the corridor, ‘Oh. He’s... Kirk, something. Part of the treasury lot, I think? He’s always about.’

‘How long’s he worked here?’

The lady looked confused, an embarrassed realisation, ‘I don’t know.’

---

There is a strange man in Parliament.

He isn’t young, isn’t old. He’s worked here for years, yet no one knows entirely how long. Part of the building almost, the cleaner once heard him joke, older than the walls themselves.

The cleaner is old too. She’s been here years, wiping at the floors with the same type of bleach whilst the fashions and technology changed around her. She hadn’t planned to be here forever, it had only been a temporary job at first, but she found that liked it. Still does. It’s solid, sturdy. Old buildings full of her people’s history, its future made around her in the same walls. She’s seen Prime Ministers come and go, seen the Queen visit several times, and all the while she’s right at the centre watching from the side lines.

It’s funny. She doesn’t have the education to be here, nor the money nor class, yet here she is anyway. Even if she had, she couldn’t have been a politician. Not the brains, her mother used to say. All heart, no head. But she loves listening to them work, loves hearing current events unfold even if she’s not included in their making. They never care that she’s standing nearby to lower their voices. Either that, or they don’t see her there at all.

They don’t always seem to see him, either.

She sees him.

She always sees him. She sees how the tall, broad man has been here for years, standing at the side of the party leaders and officials. Sees him listen as keenly as she does to their talk, sees him stare off up at the paintings of old Scottish royalty on the walls. Watches him stand next to the guards and the boys who work down in electrics- his hands smeared with oil whistling next to polished marble and fine expensive gold.

Everyone else, though, seems to forget. Groups part to include him and then leave him behind. She used to ask about him sometimes, drawn to his laughing eyes and confident walk, but no one ever really knew him to tell her. No one remembered clearly that he’d spoken to them yesterday, or that he’d stood all day in the sun with the security team until the sun had gone down. He’d turn away and grow vague, details of him hard to recall and difficult to bring to mind.

Never for her though. For some reason, he’s as clear in the cleaner’s mind as a bell.

He sees her too.

He catches her eye amongst a crowd and lifts his chin in greeting. Winks at her from a podium, gives a wave on the telly that she somehow feels is just for her, where he stands next to men who look just like him, just as strange. Old green eyes, young face. Unseen ghosts over their shoulders, left over from something her mind can’t bring itself to consider.

Some things should not be questioned. There are things in this world that should not be named or recognised, things that deserve the respect of silence. The cleaner has always believed in the old way of things, the wisdom of the past that has endured down the centuries. The rules of the fae, the ways of an older world that is not meant for her. The years have forgotten this man for a reason, and she knows that it is not her place to question the way of things.

It is her last day today.

She still loves her job but it hurts to climb stairs now and there are so many here. She has a few years left in her, would grow bored sat doing nothing at home, so she’s got another position starting Monday to tide her over until she can’t go any longer. It’s somewhere newer and flatter and she’s disappointed with it already.

He finds her just as she’s about to leave, uniform folded and returned and her hands half in gloves.

‘I hear you’re leaving.’ He offers her a card and a small gift bag, ‘Glad I caught you.’

She takes them. ‘Thank you.’

She knows some things about this man. She knows that she loves him as much as she does her own son, knows that she would give him anything if he asked. She knows him as if they’ve been friends for years, and she knows that he knows her too. Her name, her family- all the way back through the generations to the very beginning of her kin.

She doesn’t know what to say. The questions she really wants to ask stay caught in her mouth as they should, buzzing and dangerous. She can’t get them out, can’t put the words in order.

He sees her. All of her.

‘Thanks for all your hard work.’

He offers his hand to shake and she takes it. Understanding flashes through her and then recedes, softly, like mist on the high northern hills.

‘Thank you.’ She says, eventually, ‘For remembering me.’

He squeezes her hand and winks, ‘The same in kind.’

A name comes to her that she dismisses. Swallows it back, feeling foolish.

Deep in her bones, she knows that it’s true.

[sshbpodcast]

Character Spotlight: Hikaru Sulu

By Ames

Have at thee! Pick up your foil and get into the proper stance as A Star to Steer Her By shines this week’s character spotlight on the Enterprise’s helmsman (and occasional musketeer), Hikaru Sulu. We may have had to get a little nitpicky with noteworthy moments from Scott last week because he’s just used less than the three main characters, and Sulu will be even tougher because he does even less and then is gone for a lot of season two while he was off filming The Green Berets (which I wouldn’t even recommend, so that’s a waste!).

That’s not to say Sulu isn’t a great presence in The Original Series, and we came up with some great (and not so great) moments from this ship’s jack of all trades. He swashbuckles, he collects pistols, he tends to plants, he quips with his Russian bestie. Check out the best and worst of Sulu below, listen to this week’s banter on the podcast (discussion starts at 1:19:43), and give us warp speed on my mark. Mark!

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Best Moments

Someone give this man a hand… plant Sulu started the series with a passion for botany that never really came up much after it was established in “The Man Trap” (even when it would have been applicable, as you’ll see), but it was endearing to see him caring for Beauregard and worrying about his flowery friend after a salt vampire masquerading as crewman Green gave him a fright. There there, Beauregard.

Richelieu, beware! One of the most memorable moments for Sulu and also for the whole damn series comes in “The Naked Time” where we see our favorite helmsman get affected by the space madness disease and start running around the ship shirtless with a foil, provoking crewmen into duels. It’s that bonkers kind of fun episode that really worked for TOS and gave us decades of referential humor after.

Lower us down a pot of hot coffee While we gave Kirk a lot of guff about his characterization(s) in “The Enemy Within,” we’ve really got to give Sulu credit for his work in the B plot. While slowly freezing on Alfa 177, he manages to keep morale up with the occasional light-hearted room service call to the Enterprise. And this is the first we see of what we dubbed the “Sulu Maneuver,” when you heat up some rocks with a phaser! Clever!

He’s doing a countdown! Okay, this one’s here partly because of the running joke we made out of Bailey’s delivery pointing out Sulu’s rather macabre countdown, but Sulu also displays some serious chops in “The Corbomite Maneuver.” Bailey can’t handle the pressure, and Sulu has to literally lean over and do his job for him at the same time, all without losing count!

You are not of the body Mind-controlled Sulu is best Sulu and gets some really fun acting out of George Takei every time. We see it in the afore-mentioned “The Naked Time,” in “Catspaw,” and in “This Side of Paradise,” to name a few, but my favorite mind-controlled Sulu has got to be in “The Return of the Archons” because of all the extra points he gets for this ruffly outfit!

It’s Greek to me Let’s also commend Sulu for rigging up the ship’s phasers to destroy Apollo’s temple in “Who Mourns for Adonais?” Why this plan worked I have absolutely no idea. What self-respected god entity puts all of their powers in a single object? Trelane wouldn’t gaff this hard. Anyway, props to Sulu for somehow avoiding phasering the humans who were hiding only ten feet away like fools.

Lay back and thinking about vegetables Holy cow, guys. A whole episode in which only Spock, Uhura, and Sulu are featured from the entire cast? It must be “The Slaver Weapon” from The Animated Series. Only TAS could get away with giving to Sulu scenes that would go to Kirk any other day, and he owns it! He outwits the Kzinti. He avoids their telepathy by thinking about broccoli. He does it all!

Don’t call me tiny As usual, some of the best moments we’ve collected come from the films, where the characters all really get the shine. Even the minor characters like Sulu, who gets to sashay around in what we previously dubbed the Ta’cape in The Search for Spock and hold his own against a security officer who stands probably a full foot taller than him, like a small dog in a fight. Bowwow!

Special delivery While we’re a little sad that Sulu had probably the fewest character scenes in The Voyage Home (they evidently cut a family reunion scene due to bad child acting), we do have to thank this San Franciscan for obtaining and flying a helicopter around to deliver the transparent aluminum to the ship. How did he pull it off? We’ll just have to use our imagination.

Emergency Landing Plan B Wow, we’ve had more good moments from The Final Frontier than bad ones to mention in these character spotlight posts, which is kind of fascinating considering that film on the whole is among our least favorites. But when Sulu totally rocks it and manually lands the shuttle in the bay using a barricade, we have to admit that the film knew how to use its characters.

Fly her apart then! How often does Sulu get to save the day? Not often enough, I say, because when he gets the opportunity to have the Excelsior join in the battle in The Undiscovered Country, it’s positively thrilling. Your heart just wells at the love these crewmembers have for each other that Sulu would ignore orders to come rescue his friends with passion that I wish we got to see more often in the show.

Tossing a match into a pool of gasoline For the 30th anniversary of Star Trek, Voyager treated the fans with a little Sulu action in “Flashback” and he proved to be just as heroic as ever! Not only do we get to see his decision to go save his old crewmates, but we see him outwit Kang by igniting the sirillium in a nebula. Not only that, but he does the humane and diplomatic thing and makes sure it won’t destroy the Klingon ship utterly. Now that’s a great birthday gift!

—

Worst Moments

It’s a he plant – a girl can tell Ya know how we were lauding Sulu for all his great botany work before? Well, he insists that Beauregard’s name is Gertrude for some reason in “The Man Trap.” Dude, just let Janice name him Beauregard if she wants to. He’s her plant, you just feed him sometimes. And frankly, Beauregard is the perfect name for this plant, so we have to give you points off for this one.

I’ll protect you, fair maiden Another instance that’s on both our good and bad lists comes in “The Naked Time.” Drunk or not, assaulting his coworkers is not okay, pal. And Uhura can defend herself from the likes of Richelieu or whoever else. Can we do away with the constant need to protect female characters like they’re damsels in distress? Luckily, Uhura managed to own this moment, as we’ll certainly see next week.

I knew he would Here’s another example of Chris putting the same moment in both of his lists. Funny as that interaction with Bailey was, did we really need the countdown in “The Corbomite Maneuver”? Balok was already doing it for us, as we could tell when the Clint Howard–shaped alien was supposed to repeat “one minute” after Sulu, but the line was cut, and Sulu reacts to it anyway like a weirdo.

Fantasy island, er, planet Most things in “Shore Leave” are perplexing since the episode was being written on the fly and all the characters are acting entirely out of character (we postulated the whole planet was drugged, but who knows). So when Sulu is evidently thinking about samurai for some reason, we can just blame the writers if that comes across as a little racist, especially considering Takei fought to NOT be written as a samurai in “The Naked Time.”

If it were two feet from me You know how we were giving credit earlier to Sulu for caring for Beauregard and having a knack for botany? Well all that goes out the window in “This Side of Paradise” where Sulu suddenly can’t notice a plant that is literally right next to him and slowly turning to face him. I call this man’s botany skills into question. No wonder he misgendered Beauregard! 

You are away from your post, Mister We can give normal universe Sulu a pass on this one, but his parallel universe self in “Mirror, Mirror” is just a monster. While it’s some good fun to watch Takei got down with his bad self by trying to get the captain killed and all that jazz, it is just plain uncomfortable to watch him terrorizing Uhura, so it’s definitely worth a place on our list.

A literal dagger of the mind In “And the Children Shall Lead,” it’s unclear how far the mental powers of Gorgan go since sometimes the crew only hallucinates things and sometimes they are straight-up mind controlled. Sulu seeing a ton of knives in space (which is just plain impossible and he should know it) is the weirdest instance yet. Kirk has to tell him what he sees isn’t there, but does he understand that? Who knows; it’s a nonsensical episode.

I am for you, Sulu This is just a little moment, but Sulu falls (literally!) for one of the oldest cliches in horror writing: When Losira is coming for him in “That Which Survives,” Sulu backs away and trips on some rocks like a chump, leaving himself prone to her attack. And what makes even less sense is that her touching him doesn’t kill him like the others; it only disrupts the cells in his shoulder. Like a chump.

It’s Walter backwards! More of Sulu getting made to look like a chump comes in The Animated Series episode “The Infinite Vulcan” when he nearly gets himself killed after getting bitten by a retlaw: a walking planet with poisonous bite. Luckily, he gets saved by the Phylosians, but you’d think a botanist like Sulu would know better. Oh wait, I’ve already questioned his botany skills, so there’s that.

You’re a wizard, Sulu! I can’t rant enough on what a trainwreck “The Magicks of Megas-Tu” is, but here’s a taste. To test out how to use magic (not even going to start; we’ll be here all day), Sulu’s first impulse is to make himself a pretty woman and then go in to kiss her. In front of everyone. What the hell, Sulu? I expected better from you, man, but making yourself a sex doll is utterly ridiculous.

One tiny step for a tiny man One more from The Animated Series, and this one’s stupidity is compounded by the super inconsistent animation. When he’s been shrunk in “The Terratin Incident” to somewhere between one foot and one inch tall depending on the art frame, Sulu goes to turn a dial, somehow trips on it, and falls off the equivalent of a ten-story building only to break a leg. Ugh.

Like a bull in a China ship I have to give Sulu grief about something that bugs me whenever I see it in Star Trek. Did you ever notice that the crew seem to use breakable items only so they can get smashed? In any other scene, the ceramic tea cup that we see in The Undiscovered Country might be metal or plastic or the paper cups we saw at one point, but because we need to see it break, it’s ceramic, and I slowly lose my mind about it.

—

Oh my. We’re reducing to impulse speed to prepare for more of these character spotlights, so keep your eyes here for more in the series! Also, keep up with our watchthrough of Enterprise over on SoundCloud or wherever you podcast, challenge us to a duel over on Facebook or Twitter, and take a moment to smell the flowers, if you take a half a second to notice them.

[purrpickle]

Honestly, and I mentioned this in another post, but Tee, Jim, and Kade's plan of making Sam jealous to keep Mon and not fire her, made everything so much worse.

Maybe Sam would have changed her mind on her own, but we can't know that for sure.

Instead, that jealousy fueled reversal is what caused Sam's whiplash and absolute further shutdown when telling Mon she had changed her mind. We see that in Sam's flashback to Tee telling her that she would never let Mon leave her company.

I mean, c'mon, Tee, Kade, and Jim! You know your friend! You think someone who grew up under such trauma and forced repression is going to react well and balanced to having the woman she's obviously fallen for so easily taken away and pursued by someone else? Especially since you already know Sam thinks Tee actually likes her?

Look, I'm not saying Sam's reaction was okay, at all. I've already discussed that in my other post. It was absolutely not okay. But what I am saying is that the outward backlash caused by Sam's internal emotionally and angrily panicked reversal of Mon's firing (because if she went through with it, Tee would swoop in and date her when what Sam wanted was to fire her so she could date her), along with her complete shutdown and inability to open up or realize she should or even could talk to Mon about her reasons or why she so suddenly looked like she was just so easily changing her mind and that the firing didn't matter at all - when it really had! It really, really had! Just for horribly stunted and selfish reasons - was fueled so much more by her friends' actions.

Sam had had her plan: fire Mon so they could date. She'd spent two days pushing everything down to come up with her plan, and had set it into motion, pushing everything else away and shutting down until it came into fruition.

And then, in the span of ten minutes, she'd had her plan, her desire for being with Mon, and Mon herself threatened to be taken away from her, all wrapped all up in an oh so casual insulting insinuation of Sam's ability to run her company being lesser than Tee's if she lets Mon go: "It's my company. I can fire anyone I want," versus "If Mon worked for me, I'd never let her go," and Tee would "...take care of her properly," along with Jim and Kade's absolute fawning over Tee's company as well.

So in one fell swoop, Tee and Jim and Kade threatened Sam's pride, her ability as CEO of Diversity, her decisions on how to somehow get her life in an order so she could live with it in a way that finally let her have something she desired (after running away from a proposal from Kirk, even!), her feelings for Mon, and her hoped for future with Mon.

So now, after having built up her walls for Mon's firing in two days, Sam only had an evening to prepare for her emotionally tailspinning reversed decision, so forcefully shoved at her by her friends.

A decision that meant she couldn't date Mon anymore.

But also meant it would hopefully stop Mon from dating Tee and that she wouldn't be working for her.

That meant Sam would see Mon every day and be unable to do anything about it or explore the relationship she wanted with her now that her feelings were known to her.

But also meant she would still be able to see Mon every day and get to be around her.

That meant Sam's desires would be taken away from her again.

That meant Sam would have to marry Kirk anyway.

That meant all the good things Sam finally let herself feel and pursue and hope for and start to build with Mon didn't matter anymore and would never go anywhere.

Really, that meant that to keep Mon, she was now going to lose Mon.

...

And the worst part is, you see all of that overwhelming conflict on Sam's face in the scene in her office!

You see her spiral of destroyed plans hammered over with quickly thrown up walls as she stays away from looking at Mon and keeps herself moving and looking at anything else so the tears fighting to come out don't and pushes pushes pushes for Mon to drop it and go back to work so Sam doesn't have to show her her own horribly torn apart heart.

I've already covered that it doesn't occur to Sam that she can talk to Mon (or anyone), or that she should talk to Mon (or anyone), which makes her shutdown so much worse. She wants Mon out of there. She can't be around her, so her only way to get through this is to tell Mon she changed her mind and to go back to work.

And it's not like Sam doesn't see the hurt she's doing to Mon, or doesn't care about it. She does! You watch her react, in her expressions and in her eyes and body movements, but Sam honestly cannot do anything, at that moment, about it. Because everything is roiling around in her brain and she's overwhelmed and stressed and does what she's learned to do: become cold, dismissive, and shut down.

So yes. Sam was already mentally exhausted before meeting with her friends, but afterwards, they tore her plan apart and she was left reeling and angry and now had to pivot and treat the serious decision of firing Mon and pushing her away as trivial and without consequence.

Which was wrong. Absolutely wrong. I say Sam had to change her plan, but I do truly mean she ultimately chose to reverse the firing - Sam is still one hundred percent culpable here!

This post isn't about trying to excuse Sam. No, it's about further getting into her actions and how good intentions spiraled into terrible reactions, and how there was more behind Sam's coldness and cruelty than just her ignoring Mon or belittling her or changing her mind 'because she could'. And as I have said before, I hope the show moves forward with letting Sam learn and heal and work through her trauma and issues, and makes her be responsible for her actions.

And that maybe Tee, Jim, and Kade stop trying to make her jealous now that she's started dating Mon. I love them, but they absolutely misstepped here.

[reginaldqueribundus]

Worf also died like 2 other times on TNG, one time Q killed him with a bunch of US civil war soldiers and Riker brought him back with Q powers, and I think he technically also died during the surgery from that whole stupid barrel thing but came back because Klingons can reroll death saves or something

there's also Elnor, who got shot dead in the Evil Federation timeline but then Q brought him back too

Neelix, if I recall correctly, got fried in a shuttle accident or something like that. Seven revived him with nanoprobes, accidentally disproving his religion and causing him to have a whole existential crisis about it.

I hadn't even thought of Kirk on the Enterprise-B as a death, but I guess the Nexus is kind of the afterlife! Luckily it has a fire exit but then he got a bridge dropped on him :( (in the Shatnerverse novels I think the Romulans bring him back to life with modified Borg nanoprobes or something)

speaking of novels, the old novelverse did Janeway real dirty. she got eaten by a fucked up Borg cube, turned into a Borg Queen and then exploded and thus missed the Great Big Borg Invasion which was then blamed on her because her future self messed with time. supposedly her death was a “fixed point” in the multiverse (excuse me, the Doctor would like a word and I don't mean the EMH) but Q's kid brought her back anyway in one of the Voyager novels.

Data takes the cake though, they killed that poor bastard like 3 times. according to the Jean-Luc Picard Show, after the whole Scimitar thing Bruce Maddox apparently used “nanoscopic fragments of Data's neurons” or whatever to reconstruct his mind inside a simulation. when Picard found him Data was like hey can u plz euthanize me and Picard said ok but then they found this other android that Noonien Soong's human son who's never been mentioned or alluded to before had put Data's mind inside along with all of B4 and Lore and Lal's memories, and then Data and Lore were fighting for control and Lore one by basically eating Data but by absorbing Data's entire life he became Data?? so now he's out there running around as Data and Lore I guess. but mostly Data.

Gray is another complex example, the Tal symbiote carried his memories into Adira but then he kept hanging around as a psychic memory ghost, which the holo-simulation on the Khieth somehow turned into an actual hologram and then they sucked him out of Adira with a syringe and put him in a robot body and he became a therapist which seems…very fitting

Leslie is a funny case cuz they straight up forgot he died and he just showed up in later episodes (though supposedly there was a deleted scene in “Obsession” where a magic potion brought him back to life)

Scotty & McCoy were brought back by the same methods that killed them — Kirk yelled at Nomad until it hit Undo on killing Scotty and the Shore Leave planet has mechanisms to “fix” guests it accidentally murders. which seems like more work than just making the illusions nonlethal, but whatever. Would be nice if Six Flags could just sew your head back on after a rollercoaster decapitates you I guess.

Spock only worked because of his proximity to one-of-a-kind experimental tech and the foresight to leave a backup copy of his soul inside McCoy plus a mystical ritual from the Vulcan equivalent of the Epic of Gilgamesh but Kelvin Kirk just needed a shot of Magical Khan Blood. really should keep a vial of that stuff in case of an emergency, Leonard!!

Picard I think technically also died that time his artificial heart exploded but presumably Q brought him back for totally hetero reasons and then yeah he died of Bad Brain Syndrome but they put him in an android body that conveniently looks and acts exactly like a 90-year-old man. this was an important plot point eventually because (spoilers for Picard S3) it turned out his BBS was actually Borg mutations and the Borg / rogue changelings used it in their evil plans

Shaxs is really funny bcuz we have no idea how he came back just that it involves something called “the Black Mountain”

Culber is also hilarious to me, CBS realized they'd made a mistake murdering one of their first two gay characters Paul manifested him by missing him really hard and then Tilly's imaginary friend from the mushroom dimension rebuilt his body out of mushrooms and with a shredded six-pack. death only made him hotter! and then he got in a fight with the guy who killed him

however I would argue O'Brien counts since a) he literally went into the future and died from the radiation poisoning that was making him time travel to begin with and his future self had to go back and take his place but also b) it's O'Brien

"You never forget your first death"

Okay so off the top of my head...

Scotty (killed by Nomad)

McCoy (killed by Shore Leave planet)

Leslie (killed by cloud monster)

Spock (died in engineering)

Kirk (Prime, died on the Enterprise-B)

Kirk (Kelvinverse, died in engineering)

Worf (falls off a balcony)

Data (destroyed on the Scimitar)

Dax (hosts have died multiple times)

Neelix (can't remember tbh)

Stamets (remembers every death on Discovery time loop)

Culber (neck snapped)

Gray (ship hit by asteroid)

Picard (artificial heart failure)

Picard (Irumodic Syndrome)

Shaxs (died saving the Cerritos)

Boimler (blown up)

And they all came back.

Also, Harry Kim, Miles O'Brien and Phillipa Georgiou were killed and replaced with duplicates from other times and realities but that doesn't really count. Plus duplicates of the entire Voyager crew died and there have been time loop episodes where the Enterprise-D and Discovery were destroyed over and over. But they don't remember those except Stamets on Discovery.

And that's just in TV and movies! Did I miss any?

[writingfromkitchenator]

Kirk ~ Faults

1,300 Followers Challenge!

Round 2

Masterlist

Requested by Anon

Words: 1,025

Warnings: Neutral Reader, sexual references, fluff

It had started as a one night stand.

You’d originally been so adamant that you’d never fall for the captain, for his flirtatious ways and overly charming smile, but it seemed that your drunken self had other ideas. When you woke up in his bed the following morning, both of you extremely hungover, you had been less than impressed, mostly at yourself.

Jim had taken it in his stride though, been as polite and charming as always, and somehow, it lead to being in his bed more than once.  Slowly, it developed into a relationship between the two of you, much to the amusement of a lot of the crew, but it wasn’t without its faults.

You awoke to Jim kissing your neck and shoulders, a low hum on your lips as you were pulled from sleep, a low chuckle rumbling through him.

“Good morning gorgeous.”  He breathed against your shoulder.  “Have any plans for the day?”

Rolling over, you smile at him, accepting his kisses for a moment.  “I don’t know…I have a few books to be catching up on.”

Jim does a small pout. “Nothing more interesting?”

You giggled.  “I’m sure I can make an exception for this morning.”

Days off were often like this, after all, on the ship, it was often difficult to be able to spend a lot of time together.  The problem came about when you also needed time to yourself, needing to recharge after being with around the crew for so long, and while Jim understood to some extent, he did tend to push it a little bit.

Humming as you cooked some breakfast for the two of you, hair still wet from the shower, you took a grateful sip of your morning coffee.  You’d been looking forward to this time off for a while, having felt like you were starting to get cranky at your team, so as far as you were concerned, this had been a perfect start to the morning, now you keen to get into your book.

“Smells great out here,” Jim said as walked into the kitchen, still drying out his ears.  “Makes me glad I worked up an appetite.”

You shot a smirk over your shoulder at him.  “You worked up an appetite?  Here I was thinking that I did most of the work.”

He throws his towel into the laundry and makes his way over to you with a chuckle, his arms wrapping around you, nuzzling into your neck.  “You were rather insistent.  I certainly won’t complain if you wanted me to take charge.”

Laughing, you quickly stop his hands from starting to roam, kissing his knuckles.  “Maybe later.  I need some time to myself for a while.”

You could practically feel him pouting.  “Come on, you know no one is going to judge you for being in bed all day.  I certainly won’t.”

“I know you won’t,” You move him away so you can plate up the food.  “You enjoy using those hands of yours just a little too much.  I’m not stopping you from spending the day in bed if that’s what you want to do.”

“It’s hardly any fun without you,” Jim said, amused.  “And you’ve certainly never complained about my hands before.”

“I’d never complain about you at all,” You smiled at him, handing him a plate.  “Except for when you’re being a pain in my arse.  Luckily you seem to reserve that for when we’re on duty.”

Jim shrugs lightly, the two of you sitting at the table.  “What can I say?  You are fun to vex.”

You chuckled.  “You mean, I’m easy to vex.  You’re lucky I love you.”

He grins.  “I love you too, which is why I like spending the day with you whenever I get a chance.  This breakfast is amazing by the way.”

“Compliments will only get you so far Jim, or have you already forgotten about that?”  You smiled and shook your head.  “I enjoy your company but I need my time.”

Sighing dramatically, Jim rolled his eyes, but returned your smile.  “Okay, I have a few things I need to do at the Academy today anyway.  Just message me if you need me to come back for anything.”

You raised an eyebrow at him.  “Jim, are you actually doing something responsible on your time off?”

He chuckled.  “I am capable Y/N.”

“Uh huh,” You beamed. “And thank you, for understanding.”

Jim finished his breakfast, and stood, putting his plate in the sink, before returning to you and kissing his cheek.  “Always sweetheart, as much as I whinge a little.”

You capture his chin as he goes to step away, smiling as you kiss him deeply.  “You mean a lot.”

He chuckled low against your lips.  “You know, you aren’t doing a very good job at convincing me to leave.”

“Well, you would’ve been disappointed if I didn’t give you a proper goodbye kiss.”  You pulled him back and for a long moment the two of you kissed, smiling against each other’s lips, neither in a hurry.

“You keep me here too much longer, I’m not going to leave at all.”  Jim chuckled softly.

“You’re quite capable of leaving too, you know?”  You giggled.

He pressed his lips to yours again.  “That I am. Are you sure you’re going to be okay without me?”

“Aren’t I always?” You asked, watching him as he stepped away, looking at you a little smugly.

Jim shrugged, smirking. “That depends on the scenario, doesn’t it?”

You laughed, shaking your head and waving your hand on him.  “Go on, be gone with you.  I want some time to myself.”

He winked, waving back. “Don’t have too much fun without me, okay?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it Jim,” You called after him as he grabbed his things and headed and for the door. “I keep telling you you’re stuck with me.”

His laughter was the last thing you heard as he left, and you couldn’t but sit there with a smile, finishing your breakfast and looking forward to your book.

Oh, it definitely had its faults, but right now, you couldn’t think of what they were.

[noitsbecky127]

rebecca watches tos: whom gods destroy

I’ve read that Elaan of Troyius is sexist so I’m skipping it

why does the federation do literally anything on a poisonous planet

one medicine will eliminate all of mental illness? permanently? I don’t think that’s how it works

jim I don’t think this guy is the way he was when you read about him

ooh green lady

she COULD just be insane but lbr here there’s more to it than that

yep there was more to it

garth and his gang of aliens are in charge now

LORD garth???

I’m guessing getting out of this will somehow involve kirk seducing the green lady

oh he wants the fucking enterprise

and he’s gonna shapeshift his way into it

is queen to queen’s level 3 some kind of code

william shatner is really hamming it up here lmao

ah yep it was a code

making a code was a smart move, given how often people impersonate kirk

you are definitely lacking in hospitality

this entertainment sucks

everyone here is so ridiculous

ma’am you didn’t write that poem

her dancing reminds me of twi’leks in star wars, guess they fill the same role of “sexy alien lady”

she isn’t even trying to seduce spock, guess she can tell it’s a lost cause

so garth tried to do a genocide for no clear reason

sir you are not master of the universe, you’re a terrible person with delusions of godhood

kirk just brotherzoned spock

even garth can see it

he’s still awful though

oh shit torture time

ohhh torturing cory for it

that’s admittedly a brilliant idea, kirk will be more responsive to that than to his own suffering

nope nvm they’re putting kirk in now

what’s marta planning for him

oh she’s going for it

nvm she just wants to kill him

deus ex spockina

spock surely you know the countersign

wait shit

GARTH YOU FUCKHEAD

garth is seriously doing a “rip to them but i’m different” here

what kind of coronation has a human sacrifice anyway

kirk is still trying to talk his way out of this

nope just trying to disable the forcefield

you should probably not vaporize the planet garth

can I get an F for marta

meanwhile on the enterprise they’re still trying to get through the forcefield

oh yeah where IS the real spock anyway

here he is!

he is coming! with a phaser!

ah the classic “which one is real and which is the shapeshifter” dilemma

spock is straight up just gonna wait them out

battle of the kirks!

ah yes, the real kirk would never pass up an opportunity to be self-sacrificing

but if knocking him out makes him revert why not just start with stunning them both?

ok good the medicine has been reacquired, for the improbable elimination of mental illness

yeah don’t have much to say about this ep, but it was alright

[per-ineptia-ad-astra]

Star Trek Episode 1.24: This Side of Paradise

AKA Yet Another Creepy Utopia Planet

Our episode begins with the Enterprise heading in to orbit around an Earthy-looking planet named Omicron Ceti 3. Omicon Ceti is a real star, by the way—also known as Mira or Mira A, it’s a red giant and part of a binary star system with its sister Mira B. It’s not a real likely place to go looking for such a nice homey sort of planet, though, because Mira is a pulsating variable star, which means its size and brightness is constantly fluctuating, and it’s hard to evolve life when your sun keeps flickering like a neon sign in a noir movie all the time.

Uhura reports to Kirk that she’s been transmitting a contact signal every five minutes just as he ordered, but she’s only getting dead air in response.  Kirk tells her to keep it up until they get into orbit, then moves on to talk to Spock. “There were one hundred fifty men, women and children in that colony,” he says. “What are the chances of survivors?”

Looks like the chances are, uh...not great. And by ‘not great’ I mean ‘nonexistent’. Spock explains that ‘Bertold rays’ are a recent enough discovery that there’s still a lot not known about them, but one thing that is for sure known is that exposure to these rays causes living animal tissue to disintegrate. Nasty. Evidently this planet is heavily exposed to these rays, because a group of colonists-- “Sandoval’s group”-- came here only three years ago and Spock says there’s no possibility they could have survived. Well why the heck would anyone build a colony in such a place? All Spock can say is “They knew there was a risk.”

Kirk questions whether they can risk sending a landing party down under such conditions, but Spock says the disintegration doesn’t start immediately, so they’ll be alright if they don’t stick around too long. The helmsman reports that they’ve successfully established orbit, and he’s found a settlement—or at least, something that was a settlement at one point. Kirk tells Spock to equip a landing party of five to accompany him down there, including a biologist and McCoy. That’s gonna be a fun mission briefing. “Yes, we're beaming down to a planet bombarded with deadly radiation, but no need to worry, crew, your tissues will probably only disintegrate a little bit."

Sometime later, the landing party—Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Sulu, a blueshirt and a goldshirt—materialize into a meadow near a dirt path and a picket fence. They’ve thoughtfully arranged themselves into a nice alternating pattern.

[ID: A shot of a sunny meadow with a dirt road, a few trees and a white picket fence in the background. Newly beamed down are six Enterprise crewmembers standing in two rows: in the front are Kirk and Spock, in the back are McCoy, a goldshirt, a blueshirt, and Sulu.]

The goldshirt, incidentally, is DeSalle, who we last saw back in The Squire of Gothos. The character was originally written for this story as Lt. Timothy Fletcher, but was changed to DeSalle after the production crew realized they’d cast an actor who had already appeared in the series. Yes, really. AGAIN. The blueshirt is Kelowitz, who showed up briefly in The Galileo Seven and Arena, and likewise started out as another character but was renamed after being cast. I don’t know how this situation managed to happen so often on TOS, but apparently it did. At least they both seem to have managed to hold onto more or less the same positions that they had the last time we saw them, a rare feat for any minor TOS crewmember.

The group walks forward towards some nearby farm buildings arranged around a dirt yard, with a horse-drawn cart sitting out in front of one of them. But there’s no horse to be seen, and no people either. They wander through the yard and over toward what looks like a paddock, but without any animals in it. Everything seems quite thoroughly deserted.

Kirk leans on the paddock fence and glumly muses, “Another dream that failed. There’s nothing sadder. It took these people a year to make the trip from Earth. They came all that way...and died.” Hold on, it took them a year? What, do they not give colony ships warp drives? Did they have to hitchhike here?

“Hardly that, sir,” someone says, and suddenly we see three men in green jumpsuits standing at the edge of the yard, looking very relaxed and also very not dead.

As the landing party all turn around to stare in shock the man in front strides forward and says, “Welcome to Omicron Ceti 3. I’m Elias Sandoval.” McCoy looks like he’s getting ready to spray the dude with holy water.

After the titles, we get a brief captain’s log to sum things up, just in case everyone forgot what happened during the commercial break:

“Captain’s Log, Stardate 3417.3. We thought our mission to Omicron Ceti 3 would be an unhappy one. We had expected to find no survivors of the agricultural colony there. Apparently, our information was incorrect.”

The colonists start happily shaking hands with the landing party—but happily as in “oh, it’s so nice to meet you” not “oh thank god you came to rescue us we’re all on the brink of death”. Sandoval says they haven’t seen anyone outside the colony since they left Earth four years ago, although they’ve been expecting someone to come by for a while. Apparently their subspace radio didn’t work right and they don’t have anyone who could “master its intricacies”. Now, I’m no expert on establishing colonies on alien planets, but ‘person who can work our only communication device’ does rather seem like a position you would want to make sure was filled before you left.

Kirk has to explain that they haven’t come to visit because of the dead radio. He does not explain why they did decide to come when they did. Spock’s comment about the colonists knowing there was a risk indicates that whether or not Bertold rays specifically were known about before the colonists left, they at least had reason to believe there was something dangerous about the planet. So why’d the Federation let them go and then wait another three years before sending anyone to check up on them? Eh, probably just another failing of twenty-third century space bureaucracy.

Sandoval’s not bothered about it, though. He tells Kirk that it doesn’t make much difference—the important thing is the party is here now and the colonists are happy to see them. Then he invites them on a tour of the settlement and casually strolls off, leaving the landing party to stand there and try to process what the hell they just witnessed.

“Pure speculation, just an educated guess...I’d say that man is alive,” McCoy says. Thanks Bones.

Spock says that his scans show that the planet is getting ray’d just as their reports indicated, so that’s not the issue. Under this intensity, the landing party could safely hang out here for a week if necessary, as per the usual Star Trek rule that you can be exposed to a deadly thing and be just fine up until the exact moment it kills you, but there’s a mighty big difference between a week and three years. Or as Kirk succinctly puts it, “These people shouldn’t be alive.”

“Is it possible they’re not?” Sulu asks. Great out of the box thinking there Sulu, love it.

Kirk takes a moment to consider that, which is fair—compared to the kind of weird shit they’ve encountered so far, the walking dead wouldn’t even stand out that much. But McCoy points out that when they shook hands with Sandoval, “His flesh was warm. He’s alive. There’s no doubt about that.” Spock fires back with a reminder that, “There’s no miracle connected with [Bertold rays], doctor, you know that. No cures, no serums, no antidotes. If a man is exposed long enough, he dies.” Okay dude, calm down, all McCoy said was “he’s alive” not “my god! Bertold rays have been fake all along! wake up sheeple!"

As Kirk points out, this whole debate is pretty pointless anyway for the moment—they’re arguing in a vacuum, and they’ll need more answers if they want to get anywhere. So they go to follow Sandoval, who leads them towards a nearby farm house, while a few colonists do various farm chores nearby. Sandoval explains that the colonists split into three groups, with forty-five people at this settlement and two more settlements elsewhere on the planet. Apparently they thought that arrangement would give each group a better chance for growth, since if some disaster struck one group the other two would probably still be alright.

“Omicron is an ideal agricultural planet,” he says. “We determined not to suffer the fate of the expeditions that went before us.” It’s rather vague what expeditions he’s referring to here, since at no other point in the episode are any previous attempts at settling Omicron Ceti 3 mentioned. But given that Sandoval specifically mentions the possibility of disease afflicting one group as a reason to split up, and Spock earlier said that Bertold rays were a recent discovery—and that the colonists knew coming to Omicron Ceti 3 was risky-- it seems possible that previous groups tried to settle the planet and, without knowing about the Bertold rays, mistook their effects for some kind of disease native to the planet. Of course that doesn’t explain why this group of colonists decided it would be a good idea to try to settle here again anyway, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past few months, it’s that not everyone sees the possibility of dying to a terrible disease as a compelling reason to change their plans in any way.

As they stand in the farmhouse talking about this, a woman steps forward from another room in the house. She’s in soft focus, just in case we might forget she’s a woman, and instead of the green jumpsuit all the male colonists are wearing, she’s wearing green overalls over a lavender shirt, a combination that somehow manages to be an even worse fashion disaster than the jumpsuits themselves. She starts to say something to Sandoval, then stops in surprise as she sees the landing party. But for once the romance-o-vision isn’t for Kirk—it’s Spock that the camera zooms in on as the woman stares at him.

“Layla, come meet our guests,” Sandoval says cheerfully, oblivious to the wistfully romantic background music. He introduces her as Layla Colomi, their botanist. Layla says that she and Spock have met before, but “It’s been a long time.” Kirk gives Spock a bit of a side-eye for that, but Spock offers no details.

Well, all romantic tension aside, they do still have a mission to attend to here, as Kirk reminds Sandoval. Sandoval tells them to go ahead with any examinations or tests they want. “I think you’ll find our settlement an interesting one. Our philosophy is a simple one: that men should return to a less complicated life. We have few mechanical things here, no vehicles, no weapons. We have harmony here. Complete peace.” Oh yeah, that bodes well. Remember the last place we saw complete harmony and peace? At least that explains why everyone on this farm is using equipment straight out of Stardew Valley, which is presumably not the most advanced agricultural technology available by the twenty-third century. I’m not sure why Sandoval’s idea of a simpler lifestyle excludes vehicles, though. They’re not exactly the most recent thing on the timeline of human technological advancements.

Sandoval tells the landing party to make themselves at home, and they all head off. All except for Spock, who lingers just a few seconds more to give Layla a completely neutral look before walking away as well.

Everyone goes off to conduct their respective investigations. Sulu and Kelowitz wander through a yard over towards another farm building. Kelowitz isn’t sure what exactly they should be looking for, though. “Whatever doesn’t look right—whatever that is,” Sulu replies, climbing up to sit on a railing on the building’s porch. “When it comes to farms, I wouldn’t know what looked right or wrong if it were two feet from me.” I hope you enjoyed that line, because “didn’t grow up on a farm” is about all the backstory TOS is going to give us for Sulu until the movies.

[ID: Three screenshots showing Sulu pulling himself up to sit on the railing of an old-fashioned farmhouse as he says, "When it comes to farms, I wouldn't know what looked right or wrong if it were two feet from me." Growing up from the ground nearby are two large plants with thick brownish-purple stems and large pink flowers on top.]

Hey Sulu, what's that about two feet from you? Oh well, I'm sure it's not important.

Kelowitz opens up a nearby barn and notes that there’s no cows there—in fact, the barn isn’t even built for cows, just for storage, and indeed it only looks big enough to be useful for holding cow, singular. Having a storage barn isn’t itself that weird, although the fact that there is nothing currently stored in the storage barn is a bit strange. But also, as Sulu points out, come to think of it, they haven’t seen any animals here, native or imported. No cows, no horses, no pigs, not even a dog. Which is a bit odd for an agricultural colony. They must have had or expected to have animals at some point—otherwise what was pulling that cart?

Back in the house, Sandoval is asking Layla about Spock (once again referred to as a ‘Vulcanian’). She says that she knew Spock on Earth, six years ago. Sandoval, apparently having noticed the dreamy background music by now, asks if Layla loved Spock. She says that if she did, “it was important only to myself...Mr. Spock’s feelings were never expressed to me. It is said he has none to give.”

“Would you like him to stay with us now? To be one of us?” Sandoval asks. Layla smiles at him. “There is no choice, Elias,” she says. “He will stay.”

Elsewhere in the house, McCoy is scanning a colonist. He doesn’t look exactly happy with the tricorder result he gets, but all he says is, “That’ll be all, thank you very much,” and the colonist leaves, passing Kirk coming in. Incidentally, I can’t help but note that this room contains two paintings on the wall and what appears to be a cabinet full of china. I suppose the paintings could have been done by a colonist, but the china could surely only have been brought there. Who decided to pack fancy china on a year-long space voyage to an agricultural colony?

[ID: A shot of the interior of a farmhouse with blue walls, with a large wooden table in the middle of the room, a cabinet with china and glassware in the corner, a wooden desk with a copper tea kettle and some other kitchen items on it against the back wall, and a painting hanging on the wall showing some blurry trees. Sandoval, a middle-aged white man with short brown hair wearing a green jumpsuit, walks past the camera as he says, "Oh, captain, I've been looking for you."]

Kirk asks if McCoy’s found anything yet. McCoy replies that he’s surveyed nine men so far, ranging in age from twenty-three to fifty-nine. And they’re all in perfect condition. Not just healthy—perfect. Textbook responses across the board, from all of them. “If there are many more of them,” McCoy muses, “I can throw away my shingle.”

At that point Kirk’s communicator goes off. It’s Spock, calling in from one of the crop fields. He’s made the same observation as Sulu—there’s no life on the planet aside from the colonists and the plants. No animals, no insects. Spock doesn’t have any explanation yet, so Kirk tells him to carry on with his investigation and hangs up.

McCoy notes the absence of animals as peculiar, and Kirk says it’s especially so because the expedition records show that they did bring animals with them to raise for food. And pull their carts, presumably. But it seems none of them are still around. McCoy says he’d like to see the expedition’s medical records, a request Kirk has apparently anticipated because he’s got the floppy disc on hand with him.

Sandoval comes in and says that he’d like to take the two of them on a tour of the fields, to show off what the colony’s accomplished. McCoy says he’ll have to bow out, since he’s still working on the medical examinations. “However, if I find everyone else’s health to be as perfect as yours...”

“You’ll find no weaklings here,” Sandoval says, which uh, sure is a hell of a way to phrase that. “No weaklings! None of those miserable, pathetic sods with imperfect health! Only the strong survive! THE SLIGHTEST BLEMISH SHALL BE CAUSE FOR EXILE!”

Leaving McCoy behind, Kirk and Sandoval head out to the fields, where Sandoval gushes to Kirk about how great this place is: they’ve got moderate climate, moderate rains all year round, and the soil will grow anything they stick in it. Which is pretty miraculous, considering there’s no such thing as growing conditions that are perfect for every plant. But as we’re about to see, that’s not the only weird thing going on with their farming practices.

The conversation is interrupted by DeSalle arriving to give Kirk the biology report. Sandoval excuses himself to attend to work elsewhere, leaving Kirk and DeSalle alone to discuss the report. At first, it seems to be just as Sandoval said: they’ve got a variety of crops growing here successfully. The weird thing is that they don’t actually have very many of those crops. There’s enough to keep the colony going at the size it currently is, but barely more than that. Which tracks with what we’ve seen of the place so far: a couple of tiny fields that look more about the size for someone’s backyard garden than for a prosperous farm, tended by the occasional person idly scratching at the ground with a hoe. For a supposedly bounteous agricultural colony, that’s pretty weird. What have they been doing all this time?

“It’s like a jigsaw puzzle all one color,” Kirk muses, taking a moment to stroll a few steps away so he can say this dramatically in the distance instead of actually talking to DeSalle. “No key to where the pieces fit in. Why?”

Kirk’s communicator goes off. It’s McCoy, saying Kirk had better get back over there. “Trouble?” “No, but I’d like you to see this for yourself.” Of course. No one can ever just explain something over the phone, can they.

So Kirk heads back to the house, where the thing that Kirk just absolutely has to see for himself turns out to be McCoy just telling him what he’s found out, but he definitely couldn't do that over the communicator for, uh, reasons. What he’s found out is pretty interesting, though: McCoy checked up on Sandoval’s medical records from right before the colonists had left, which said that Sandoval had had an appendectomy, and had scar tissue on his lungs from childhood pneumonia (the weakling!). Yet when McCoy scanned Sandoval himself today, the results came back just as perfect as all the other colonists’. Kirk’s first thought is instrument failure, but McCoy says no, he thought of that and tested it by scanning himself, and it recorded him just fine, down to “those two broken ribs I had once.” Which sounds like an interesting story. But Sandoval’s scan? No scar tissue, and one healthy appendix. That’s right, Sandoval’s apparently managed to regrow an entire organ. Do you think you would notice that happening? Like, would it itch?

While Kirk and McCoy try to figure that out, Spock is hanging out in a field scanning with his own tricorder, while Layla stands nearby smiling ominously at him. Spock muses that there’s “Nothing. Not even insects. Yet your plants grow, and you’ve survived exposure to Bertold rays.” Yeah, how are those plants growing without insects? Presumably the native plants have evolved some way around that, but the ones the colonists have brought from Earth would need some help. Are the colonists just manually pollinating everything? Maybe that’s why they haven’t grown very much.

Layla says this can be explained, but when asked to do so, she just says, “Later.” Spock looks annoyed and remarks, “I have never understood the female capacity to avoid a direct answer to any question.” Hey! Cut that bullshit out. No one on this colony has directly answered a question since you got here, there’s no call to go ragging on a whole gender for it. Besides, just saying “Later,” is hardly a stunningly deft diversion, it’s not like she threw a smoke bomb down and disappeared.

“And I never understood you,” Layla says, walking over and placing a hand on his chest. “Until now. There was always a place in here where no one could come. There was only the face you allow people to see. Only one side you’d allow them to know.”

[ID: Three screenshots of Spock and Layla, a white woman with a lot of long blonde hair wearing a lilac shirt and green overalls, standing outside in a field with a large tree in the background. Layla, seen from behind, is pressing her hand to Spock's upper chest and saying, "There was always a place in here where no one could come." Spock replies "you know that's not where my heart is right".]

If Layla was hoping this little speech would prompt Spock to cry out that yes, she’s figured him out, he does love her but has never been able to show it! she’s disappointed, because he just looks uncomfortable and steps away. He tries to steer the conversation back onto the mystery of the colonists. “If I tell you how we survive,” she asks, “will you try to understand how we feel about our life here? About each other?”

That’s a pretty vague thing to make a promise about, so Spock deflects by saying that emotions are alien to him; he’s a SCIENTIST. “Someone else might believe that—your shipmates, your captain—but not me,” Layla says. Oh sure! Obviously none of the people who have lived, worked, and risked death alongside Spock can be expected to know anything about Spock. Only you are the Spock Expert, gifted with incredible insight by virtue of having a crush on him.

“Come,” she says, sauntering off through the field with her hand outstretched to him. Spock rather pointedly folds his hands behind his back instead and follows her.

Back in the house, Kirk and McCoy are struggling to have a conversation with Sandoval. Kirk tells Sandoval that he’s received orders from Starfleet Command to evacuate everyone on the colony, since, y’know, deadly rays and all that. He expects Sandoval to start making preparations. But Sandoval, calmly, casually, says, “No.” It’s not necessary, he insists—they’re in no danger.

But...but the Bertold rays. Sandoval is unmoved,  pointing out that as McCoy’s own instruments show, the colonists are in perfect health and there have been no deaths. Okay, what about all those animals? What happened to them? “We’re vegetarians,” Sandoval says blithely. Which, as Kirk points out, does absolutely nothing to answer the question. Actually it raises further questions.

Sandoval remains thoroughly unbothered and thoroughly unhelpful. “Captain, you stress very unimportant matters. We will not leave,” he says, and goes back to gazing out the window, evidently considering the conversation over.

Elsewhere, Spock and Layla are still walking, and Spock is getting annoyed that Layla still hasn’t explained just what it is they’re going to see. “Its basic properties and elements are not important,” Layla says helpfully. “What is important is that it gives life, peace, love.” Oh boy.

Spock is dubious, but Layla pulls him forward, over towards another one of those large pink flowers. “I was one of the first to find them,” Layla says. “The spores.”

[ID: A gif of Spock approaching a large pinkish-purple flower and saying, "Spores?" The flower then sprays a cloud of white spores all over his face and torso while Spock recoils.]

For a moment Spock just looks startled, but then he starts clutching his head and falling onto his knees in the grass, dropping his tricorder and gasping, “No--” For the first time all episode, Layla’s absolute serenity starts to fracture slightly. Over Spock’s agonized protests, she insists that it shouldn’t hurt—it didn’t hurt any of them. But, as Spock gasps out, he’s not like them. Whoops, did the biologist forget to account for biological differences before handing out a facefull of spores? I bet you didn’t even check if he had any allergies first, did you?

Just as it’s looking like this might put actually put a crack in Layla’s blissed-out impassivity, Spock stops thrashing about and starts seeming less anguished and more confused. Layla’s concern vanishes once again, and she goes back to smiling happily while stroking his face. “Now...now you belong to all of us...and we to you. There’s no need to hide your inner face any longer. We understand.”

Spock still seems unsure, but then he takes Layla’s hand in his and smiles. Not the slight hint of a smile or sardonic quirk of the lips you’d expect to see from Spock, but a huge, broad grin from ear to ear. “I love you...I can love you,” he says, and then he kisses her.

Hoo boy.

After the break, we get a quick Captain’s Log to recap:

“Captain’s Log, supplemental. We have been ordered by Starfleet Command to evacuate the colony on Omicron 3. However, the colony leader, Elias Sandoval, has refused all cooperation and will not listen to any arguments.”

Sure enough, we see Sandoval exiting the farmhouse, followed by McCoy and an extremely frustrated Kirk. “Captain, your arguments are very valid, but do they not apply to us,” Sandoval says, as calm as ever. He tries to walk off, but Kirk grabs his arm and pulls him back.

“My orders are to remove all the colonists,” he says, “and that’s exactly what I intend to do with or without your help.”

“Without, I should think,” Sandoval says, and strolls off, leaving Kirk standing there fuming.

Sulu and Kelowitz come walking up to report that they’ve checked out everything and it all seems normal, except for the missing animals. Of course, they also both said they had no idea what to look for in the first place, so maybe take that with a grain of salt. Kirk tells them about the evacuation orders, and says he wants landing parties to start gathering the colonists and preparing them to leave. And by the way, where did Spock and DeSalle go? Sulu says they haven’t seen either one in some time, but McCoy says DeSalle was going to examine some native plants he found. Native plants, huh? I think we can guess what happened to DeSalle.

Since Spock still hasn’t reported in, Kirk gives him a call. Or tries to, at least—Spock doesn’t pick up. On the other end of the line, we see why that is: Spock's communicator is laying abandoned on the ground, while Spock himself, now dressed in the same horrible green jumpsuit as the colonists, is stretched out on the grass with Layla, watching clouds. The communicator beeps away while Spock happily describes how one of the clouds looks like a dragon. "I've never seen a dragon," Layla says. BEEP BEEP. "I have." BEEP BEEP. "On Barengarius 7." BEEP BEEP. "But I've never stopped to look at clouds before." BEEP BEEP. "Or rainbows." BEEP BEEP. "You know, I can tell you exactly why one appears in the sky, but considering its beauty has always been out of the question." BEEP BEEP.

"Not here," Layla says (beep beep), and they smile dreamily at each other before going into another makeout session. Meanwhile, Kirk is still on the line, and not getting any happier about it. Layla finally picks up the communicator and holds it up for Spock, who takes a break from kissin' to say, "Yes, what did you want?"

Naturally, this throws both Kirk and McCoy for a loop. While McCoy stands there with a "what the fuck" look on his face, Kirk takes a moment to recover and then demands, "Spock, is that you?"

"Yes, captain, what did you want?"

"Where are you?"

"...I don't believe I want to tell you."

[ID: Three shots of Kirk and McCoy standing in front of the farmhouse, Kirk holding his communicator while McCoy looks on. Kirk has a stunned expression on his face and looks around with his mouth open, trying to figure out what to say.]

Kirk plows on ahead, telling Spock that, whatever the hell he thinks he's doing, he's got orders: they're getting the colonists out, and Spock is to meet back at the settlement in ten minutes.

"No, I don't think so," Spock says casually. "You don't think so, what?" "I don't think so, sir."

Kirk has to take a moment after that one. It's rather amazing that McCoy's made it this far into the conversation without saying anything himself. Presumably he's just in shock. Eventually Kirk tells Spock to report in immediately, but by now Spock and Layla have gone back to kissing, leaving the communicator open but abandoned in the grass once more.

"That didn't sound at all like Spock, Jim," McCoy says, putting in his bid for the Enterprise’s bi-weekly Massive Understatement contest.

"No, it--I thought you said you might like him if he mellowed a little."

"I didn't say that!"

"You said that."

"Not exactly,” McCoy protests, and then somewhat grudgingly adds, “He might be in trouble.”

I'm sure McCoy did say that, or something like it, but "I hope Spock has his brain taken over by alien spores" was presumably not where he was going with it. He obviously sees this sudden change of behavior as something to be concerned about--even moreso than Kirk, who seems more irritated than anything. But then, it's only been a couple episodes since McCoy had his own run-in with an alien influence making people act a lot more mellow than usual, and he didn't enjoy that experience at all, so it's not surprising that "trouble" is his first thought here.

Kirk tells McCoy to take over the landing party detail and start getting the colonists up to the ship, and to make sure the party works in teams of two, with nobody being left alone. Meanwhile, Kirk himself takes Sulu and Kelowitz and heads off to find Spock, using the open frequency from Spock's communicator as a homing signal. They follow a dirt path out of the main settlement and soon find said communicator, laying open and abandoned in the grass just off the path. As Kirk picks it up, they hear laughter nearby, and Sulu points in astonishment further down the path, where Layla is watching Spock dangle upside-down from a tree branch like a kid on a jungle gym.

[ID: A shot of Spock and Layla among some trees at the end of a dirt path. Layla is standing on the ground and holding hands with Spock, who is hanging upside-down by his knees from a large tree branch, laughing.]

For a moment all Kirk can do is stare weakly at this weird spectacle. Then he collects himself with a stern AHEM and marches over like a principal about to deliver some very serious detention.

Meanwhile, back at the main hub of the colony, the landing party seems to have gotten well underway with preparations for departure, with several colonists and crewmen piling up luggage and equipment in the middle of a field while McCoy stands nearby overseeing everything, a job I’m sure he’s enjoying since we all know administrative work is McCoy’s favorite thing. Then DeSalle arrives, carrying a couple of the spore flowers and tells McCoy to take “a good, close look” at them, because they’re very interesting. McCoy steps forward to check them out right before the scene cuts away again, leaving us with little doubt as to what’s about to happen next.

During that little interim, Kirk and his crew have made it over to where Spock and Layla are cavorting. Spock just grins happily at Kirk, clearly not bothered one bit, even as Kirk asks if Spock’s out of his mind. He didn’t report to Kirk, he says, because...he didn’t want to.

Kirk glances back and forth between Spock and Layla, who’s standing there smiling rather smugly, and tells Layla that she’ll need to come get ready to evacuate with the rest of the colonists. Spock cheerfully says that there’s not going to be any evacuation. “But perhaps,” he adds, “we should go and get you straightened out.”

That really doesn’t bode well, but rather than ask just what Spock means by that, Kirk tells Sulu that Spock is under arrest in Sulu’s custody until they get back to the ship. Which will certainly work out well because it’s not like Spock is strong enough to chuck Sulu all the way across the field barehanded or anything. Not that Spock seems especially perturbed about being under arrest; instead he just shrugs, drops down from the tree, and says, “Very well. Come with me,” before heading off across the field, leaving else to follow in confusion. That’s how you arrest someone, right?

Of course, Spock leads them right to another group of spore flowers, which the group stops and stares at obligingly for a moment. Then the flowers explode a bunch of spores at them. Somehow, even though he’s standing right next to Sulu and Kelowitz, Kirk manages to totally avoid getting any spores up his sinuses, while the other two are immediately affected. “Yes...I see now,” Sulu says blissfully, with that trademark Very High grin that George Takei does so well. “Of course we can’t remove the colony. It’d be wrong.”

Kirk grabs him by the shoulders—Kirk’s go-to method for snapping people out of it--but when this somehow fails to bring Sulu back to his right mind, all Kirk can do is say that he doesn’t know what these plants are or how they work, but “you’re all going back to the settlement with me, and those colonists are going aboard the ship.” This stern proclamation has absolutely no effect on anyone. The whole group just stands there happily watching Kirk stomp back toward the colony. “I can see the captain is going to be difficult,” Spock remarks.

Kirk’s day isn’t about to get any better, because upon making it back to the colony he’s greeted by McCoy, who we can immediately tell is under the influence as well because his accent is absolutely out of control. It’s so thick even the subtitles pick up on it.

[ID: A screenshot of McCoy walking through a meadow with his communicator out, saying, "Sho’nuf."]

“Hiya, Jimmy boy!” McCoy very happily says to a very unhappy Kirk. “Hey, I’ve taken care of everything. Now all y’all gotta do is just relax. Doctor’s orders!” With a very resigned look, Kirk asks how many plants McCoy’s beamed up to the ship, and McCoy says it must be going on a hundred by now.

So Kirk beams up to the ship and heads right to the bridge, where he tells Uhura to put him through to Admiral Komak at Starfleet, though what he expects Komak to do about all this I don't know. But it’s too late. Uhura turns around to show that she’s smiling as happily as everyone else, and says, “Oh, I’m sorry Dave, I mean, captain. I can’t do that.” She’s short-circuited all the ship’s communications, except for ship-to-surface, since they’ll need that for a little while yet. Then she leaves, pausing in the door of the lift to tell Kirk that it’s really all for the best.

Kirk stands there seething for a moment, then stomps over to grab a plant that’s been left in Spock’s chair. He throws it across the bridge, and the camera lingers ominously on it as Kirk heads back into the lift.

Things aren’t any better on the rest of the ship. Kirk soon finds a long line of crewmembers of all different shirt colors, patiently waiting to transport down to join the colony. Out of what I can only assume is some desperate futile hope that someone will follow his orders if he just keeps trying, Kirk orders them all to go back to their stations at once. Unsurprisingly, they all ignore him. Kirk points out to one of the redshirts that this is MUTINY! but it doesn't get him very far.

[ID: A gif showing a young white man with brown hair wearing a redshirt as he says, "Yes, sir, it is." The camera then zooms in very dramatically on Kirk's stunned face.]

So...they’re all going down to join the colony? All four hundred thirty of them? Or four hundred twenty-nine, I guess, if Kirk refuses to join the fun. That’s almost ten times the amount of people the colony currently has in it. That seems like it could present a bit of a problem, because if you’ll recall DeSalle told Kirk earlier that right now the colony’s growing enough food to feed their current population, with little left over. How are they going to handle such a large and sudden influx into their population? Do they have housing for all these people? Or are they just all going to eat dirt and sleep on the ground because they’re all too high to notice anyway?

After we’ve had a commercial break to contemplate this shocking turn of events, Kirk takes some time out to give vent to his feelings in a captain’s log:

"Captain's Log, Stardate 3417.5. The pod plants have spread spores throughout the ship, carried by the ventilation system. Under their influence, my crew is deserting to join the Omicron colony, and I can't stop them. I don't know why I have not been infected, nor can I get Doctor McCoy to explain the physical, psychological aspects of the infection."

And indeed, just in case we had any doubt, we then see McCoy strolling through the field and happily telling Kirk, “I’m not interested in any physical, psychological aspects, Jim-boy. We all perfectly healthy down here.” Kirk grumbles about how much he’s been hearing about things being perfect lately. “I bet you’ve even grown your tonsils back.” “Sho’nuf!”

Kirk tries desperately to get McCoy to do something to figure these spores out—run a blood test, take a scan, type the symptoms into WebMD, something, anything—but McCoy is more interested in rambling on about mint juleps.  Meanwhile, back in the farmhouse, Sandoval’s having tea with Spock while they talk about how nearly everyone’s beamed down from the ship and things are “proceeding quite well.” Kirk storms in and demands to know where McCoy’s gotten to, and Spock says he went off to make that mint julep. Which could prove quite difficult unless this tiny half-assed farm colony has somehow managed to set up a working distillery around here somewhere, but Kirk’s got bigger concerns right now than where McCoy’s going to get his bourbon.

Sandoval wants to know why Kirk won’t join them in their private, spore-sponsored paradise. Kirk asks where these spores came from, anyway, and Spock exposits that there’s no way to know—they just drifted through space until they arrived at this planet, which is perfect for them because it turns out they actually thrive on Bertold rays. The plants act as a repository for the spores until they can find a human—or half-Vulcan—body to inhabit. No explanation is forthcoming as to how Spock knows any of this.

Spock and Sandoval insist that the planet is “a true Eden” with belonging and love and no needs or wants for anyone, but Kirk is skeptical. “No wants, no needs. We weren’t meant for that. None of us. Man stagnates if he has no ambition, no desire to be more than he is.” Of all the things wrong with this situation I’m not sure “BEING TOO HAPPY IS BAD FOR YOU” is the take I would go with, but okay. Spock says that Kirk doesn’t understand, but he’ll come around...sooner or later.

Kirk, disgusted with this whole conversation, goes back to the ship. The bridge is dark, silent, and utterly empty. We get a slow pan of the blinking lights and displays of the consoles, with no one left to man them. Kirk walks over to his chair, hits the intercom, and starts calling one part of the ship after another, with no response from any of them. With nothing else left to do, he sits down in his chair and starts glumly recording a captain’s log so angsty it could be a LiveJournal entry:

"Captain's Log, Stardate 3417.7. Except for myself, all crew personnel have transported to the surface of the planet. Mutinied. Lieutenant Uhura has effectively sabotaged the communications station. I can only contact the surface of the planet. The ship...can be maintained in orbit for several months, but even with automatic controls, I cannot pilot her alone. In effect, I am marooned here. I'm beginning to realize...just how big this ship really is, how quiet. I don't know how to get my crew back, how to counteract the effect of the spores. I don't know what I can offer against...paradise."

Hold on hold on HOLD ON what do you MEAN the ship can be maintained in orbit for several months? Every time someone takes their hands off the controls for five seconds we get told that the orbit is decaying and they’re gonna plummet into some hapless planet within a few hours at most but now all of a sudden it’s fine to hang out up there for several months? MAKE UP YOUR MIND.

Kirk gets up to go sit at the helm, just to get a change of scenery mid-mope, and as he finishes his log/rant the camera slowly pans down to reveal the spore flower that he chucked across the bridge earlier. Which is weird because we just got a wide shot of the bridge and that flower definitely wasn’t there then.

[ID: Two shots. The first is a wide shot showing Kirk alone on the empty, darkened bridge, preparing to sit down at the helm. There is nothing in on the floor in front of the helm. The second shot is a closer shot of Kirk sitting at the helm with his chin in one hand, now with a large spore flower poking up in the front of shot.]

The flower promptly shoots Kirk in the face, and for a moment he just continues to sit there with spores in his hair and a “yeah, this might as well happen” expression. But then he slowly starts to smile, suddenly as happy as everyone else. Exactly why Kirk’s been unaffected by the spores up until now, even after hanging out for quite a while on a ship that’s supposedly been thoroughly contaminated by them, is never really explained. Maybe he's just on a lot of Zyrtec. But it seems even Kirk’s determination to not be happy can’t hold out against a point-blank spray in the face. He calls Spock to say that he finally understands now, which Spock is happy to hear. Kirk says he’ll be down just as soon as he packs up a few things, so Spock says he and Layla will wait for him at the beamdown point.

So Kirk goes off to his quarters to pack up a suitcase, the contents of which seem to mostly consist of uniform shirts. Apparently paradise for Kirk does not include one of those green jumpsuits, which, really, who can blame him. He opens a small vault by his bed and pulls out a couple of black cases, one of which he opens to reveal a medal. This seems to stir some sense of conflict because he sits down and stares at it for a long moment, but then puts it aside and heads to the transporter room, where he puts the suitcase on the platform and then prepares to set the controls.

But then Kirk hesitates, and stands there for a moment looking conflicted. Possibly he’s still having feelings about those medals, or maybe he’s having second thoughts about whether he packed enough shirts. In any case, he eventually exclaims, “No...No! I...can’t...LEAVE!” Then he punches the console for good measure.

Apparently this little emotional outburst is all it takes to cure the spores, because Kirk gasps a little, looks momentarily confused, and then seems to be back to his old self. “Emotions...violent emotions. Needs...anger,” he tells the empty room. “Captain’s log, supplemental. I think I’ve discovered the answer...but to carry out my plan entails considerable risk. Mr. Spock is much stronger than the ordinary human being.” Then he treats us to this remarkable line:

[ID: A shot of Kirk in profile at the transporter controls as he says, "Aroused, his great physical strength could kill."]

um

Down on the planet, Spock and Layla are still waiting at the beamdown point when Kirk calls Spock up and says he’s realized there’s some equipment on the ship that they’ll need for the colony, and he needs Spock’s help to get it all beamed down. Really, you’d think there’d be quite a lot of equipment on the Enterprise that a farming colony could make good use of, but I guess they’re really determined to stick to the whole no-technology approach. Despite this, Spock cheerfully accepts the explanation, gives Layla a quick smooch, and beams up.

But upon materializing, Spock is greeted not with a smiling Kirk ready to go move some equipment with his bro, but Kirk standing there holding some nonspecific heavy metal rod thing that he’s smacking threatening against his hand. “All right, you mutinous, disloyal, computerized half-breed,” he says, “we’ll see about you deserting my ship.”

Spock reacts to this bar-brawl-starter with nothing more than a nonplussed expression and polite correcting Kirk on his syntax. Kirk, determination unshaken, continues laying into him with a stream of insults that would have made that fucker from Balance of Terror go, “Whoa, hold on there a minute.” Undeterred by not being able to use any actual expletives, he compares Spock both to a machine and to various fairy-tale creatures, makes fun of his ears, and rounds it all off by having a go at the entire Vulcan race. He even insults Spock’s parents.

[ID: 1. A shot of Spock standing in the transporter room looking perplexed as Kirk, off-camera, says, "Whose father was a computer and his mother an encyclopedia?" 2. A gif from Monty Python and the Holy Grail of John Cleese as the French knight on the battlements yelling, "Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!"]

Spock stands there taking it all stoically for quite a while, even as the background music gets increasingly tense. He finally starts to crack when Kirk goes after Spock’s relationship with Layla, and when Kirk keeps going despite Spock angrily telling him, “That’s enough,” Spock finally flips out big time. You know what that means, it’s time for a STAR TREK FIGHT SCENE! This one’s got it all: close-up shots of the actors intercut with long shots of very obvious stunt doubles; cardboard props getting punched; even people picking up random unidentifiable bits of starship equipment that may or may not have ever been there before to use as weapons. The only thing we’re missing is Kirk doing some kind of weird wrestling move.

[ID: Three gifs showing a fight scene between Kirk and Spock. First we see a long shot where Kirk and Spock are clearly being played by stunt doubles, as Spock punches a metal rod Kirk is holding, bending it in half. He then punches Kirk in the jaw, sending him careening into the wall. Then a close-up of Nimoy and Shatner as Spock advances on Kirk and throws a punch but misses, denting the control panel in the wall behind Kirk. Kirk dodges out of the way towards the console, and Spock throws another punch that hits the side of the console. Then back to a long view with the stunt doubles as Spock throws Kirk into the opposite wall, which Kirk careens off of, falling on his back on the floor, while Spock picks up something resembling a square metal stool or stepladder and raises it over his head. Finally, we see Nimoy and Shatner again as Kirk lays on the floor looking up at Spock, raising the thing he's carrying over his head.]

We dramatically cut to black as Spock stands poised above Kirk, raising whatever-the-hell-that-thing-is over his head threateningly. Apparently the ad break gives him enough time to cool down, though, because instead of bringing the thing down on Kirk’s skull, he hesitates.

“Had enough?” Kirk asks. “I didn’t realize what it took to get under that thick hide of yours.”

Spock slowly lowers the thing, looking a bit regretful about having to do so. Kirk says he doesn’t know what Spock’s so mad about, anyway. “It isn’t every first officer who gets to belt his captain...several times.” Dude, you just stood there and unleashed a screed of personal and racial insults at your best friend here. A “sorry” probably wouldn’t go amiss here.

“You did that to me deliberately,” Spock realizes, and then realizes that the spores are gone. “I don’t belong anymore.” Kirk explains that since the spores are “benevolent and peaceful,” violent emotions overwhelm and destroy them—that’s the answer. Which...definitely makes sense, chemically speaking. Sure.

Spock, still looking pretty glum about all this, points out that Kirk’s method might have worked out alright for curing one person, but they’ve got over five hundred infected people down there, and trying to pick a fight with all of them probably isn’t going to go so well. But no worries, Kirk’s got another plan. He wants Spock to rig up a subsonic transmitter that they can hook up to the ship’s communications system and then broadcast to all the communicators. Spock says he can do that, but hesitates as Kirk turns to leave. “Captain. Striking a fellow officer is a court martial offense,” he points out.

Kirk mulls over that one for a moment. “We-ll...if we’re both in the brig, who’s gonna build the subsonic transmitter?” he says, and Spock concedes the point. Besides, it’s a bit late to be worrying about striking fellow officers now.

[ID: A gif from The Naked Time of Kirk and Spock standing in an Enterprise conference room. Kirk slaps Spock across the face, and Spock retaliates by backhanding Kirk so hard he is thrown across the table in the center of the room and falls onto the floor on the other side.]

But what with the insults and the punching and de-sporing and everything, it seems that something has clean slipped Spock’s mind: Layla’s still down there waiting for him to come back. As she stands around the field, McCoy wanders over and asks what’s up. When she tells him that she’s been out here for some time now waiting for Spock and Kirk to come back, he gentlemanly offers to fix that for her and calls the ship. Spock picks up, and Layla asks if everything’s okay up there.

With obvious discomfort, Spock tells her that yes, he’s...quite well. Layla, oblivious to anything being wrong, asks if she can come up there, because she wants to talk to him, and besides, “I’ve never seen a starship before.” Wait a minute, never seen a starship before? You’re on a planetary colony! What, did you drive here?

Spock asks if she’s still at the beamdown point, and if McCoy’s there. Layla says yes to both, so Spock tells her to give the communicator back to McCoy, since she won’t need it to transport, and he’ll have her beamed up in a few minutes. One might think that at this point they might take this easy opportunity to also beam up McCoy and get him cured (it shouldn’t be hard, McCoy is already 85% comprised of negative emotions to begin with), so he can start investigating these spores, just in case Operation Go For the Eardrums doesn’t work. But they don’t. Kirk awkwardly asks Spock if he’s sure about talking to Layla while she’s still spore’d, but Spock just nods and heads to the transporter room.

He beams Layla up, and she happily runs over to give him a hug—they’ve been parted ever so long, after all—but when he just stands there stiffly, not reacting at all, she slowly pulls back and says, “You’re no longer with us, are you?”

Spock says it was necessary. Layla begs him to come back to the planet and belong again, but he says he can’t. She starts crying and saying she loves him. "I said that six years ago, and I can't seem to stop repeating myself. On Earth, you couldn't give anything of yourself. You couldn't even put your arms around me. We couldn't have anything together there. We couldn't have anything together anyplace else. But we're happy here. I can't lose you now, Mr. Spock, I can't." Look, if the only time the relationship you want can possibly work out is when the other person is being mind-controlled by alien spores, I think it may be time to consider whether this is really a relationship you should be pursuing in the first place.

“I have a responsibility to this ship...to that man on the bridge,” Spock gently tells her. “I am what I am, Layla. And if there are self-made purgatories, then we all have to live in them. Mine can be no worse than someone else’s.”

Layla soon realizes that all this anguish has resulted in her getting de-spore’d as well, and she’s not happy about it. “And this is for my own good?” she demands angrily. Well...yes, I mean, it is, but Spock doesn’t say that. Nor does he respond when she asks, “Do you mind if I say I still love you?” but she hugs him again anyway.

[ID: Layla tearfully embraces Spock and says, "You never told me if you had another name, Mr. Spock." Spock replies, "You couldn't pronounce it."]

ROMANCE

We’re obviously supposed to read this little story arc as the tragic tale of true love destined never to be, because Spock is only able to express his feelings for Layla under the influence of the spores. He has experienced paradise, but alas, he cannot linger there, and so on. It’s never set all that well with me, though. The problem is we never really get Spock’s side of the story and so it leaves open the question of how much he actually did want this relationship in the first place. Layla said earlier that “Mr. Spock’s feelings were never expressed to me” so evidently he never outright said “I love you but I can’t be with you” or anything of that sort to her. When they’re alone in the field before Spock gets spore’d he seems stiff, standoffish, awkward, and deflects all of her overtures with what appears to be discomfort, even annoyance. He clearly has no interest in talking about whatever history they had together, even when they’re all alone. For all that Layla goes on about how she can see a side of Spock that his crewmates don’t, we see interactions with those crewmates multiple times throughout the show that prove that Spock is perfectly capable of showing people that he cares about them, even if the ways he does it are usually a bit atypical. We don’t see any of that in his initial interactions with Layla.

If we accept the premise that the spores only make people act as they would if they had no inhibitions or fears holding them back, then yes, Spock saying he loves Layla after he’s been spore’d would indicate that he did secretly love her all along. The problem is that we know the spores make people do things that they would not ordinarily want to do. You think all of those four hundred thirty people on the Enterprise secretly longed for a quiet life among the soil but all chose to instead join the space navy for some reason? Should we believe Scotty is actually deep down perfectly okay with abandoning his beloved ship to a slowly decaying orbit? I doubt that Kirk has always harbored a subconscious desire to give up exploring the final frontier to pursue a peaceful agrarian lifestyle, but he very nearly does do just that. So the question of how much a relationship with Layla is what Spock “really” wanted seems to be a bit hazy.

Mind, I’m not saying this makes Layla an evil person who deliberately drugged Spock so she could have a relationship with him or anything like that. It’s clear throughout the episode that the spores induce those who are infected by them to spread them around to anyone nearby who’s not in the spore fandom yet, so there’s no reason to believe Layla would act as she did if she wasn’t under the influence herself. I just personally find it hard to buy into the tragic romance of a star-crossed relationship when the thing crossing the stars is that one of the participants is only enthusiastic about the whole thing when they’re not fully sober. It makes me question how much of their previous relationship really was Spock having feelings for Layla but being unable to express them, versus Layla projecting a lot of feelings onto him and writing off his disinterest or discomfort as denial.

Kirk and Spock go back to working on the signal, while Layla deals with her heartbreak by disappearing into thin air for the rest of the episode. Spock says that the sound they’re going to send out is on a frequency that won’t be heard so much as felt, but apparently it will be felt quite emphatically. Kirk compares it to putting itching powder on someone. Which may seem like another silly technobabble deus ex machina, but speaking from personal experience, driving someone into a frantic frustrated fit by playing an obnoxious noise just on the edge of hearing sounds totally legit. All they need to complete the sensory overload meltdown experience is find a way to simulate some flickering florescent lights and put tags on the backs of the uniform shirts.

And indeed, as the device starts to work, we see Sulu and DeSalle working in one of the fields—for a certain value of ‘working,’ anyway, they’re kind of just digging around aimlessly—when Sulu accidentally elbows DeSalle in the back. He apologizes, but DeSalle shoves him back, and before long they’re having a full-on brawl right there in the field, which can't be good for the crops. As the device on the ship hums away, two more crewmembers start their own fight over by the farmhouse, and when a third tries to break them up he promptly gets dragged into it as well.

The effects haven’t quite reached everyone just yet, though, as we see McCoy chillaxing under a tree with some unspecified concoction. Sandoval strolls up and says that he’s been thinking about what sort of work he could assign McCoy to. When McCoy protests that he does one kind of work and that’s doctorin’, Sandoval says that he’s not a doctor anymore—they don’t need any doctors here.

This does not go over well.

[ID: A gif showing McCoy reclining against a tree in a grassy meadow, a stalk of grass in one hand and a grass of something brown with several leafy stalks in it. Sandoval is standing over him. McCoy says, "Oh, no?" and then slowly stands up, tosses his grass stalk aside, looks Sandoval in the eye and says, "Would you like to see just how fast I can put you in a hospital?"]

Undeterred, Sandoval says that he’s the leader and he’ll be assigning McCoy whatever work he wants to, but when he tries to walk away McCoy pulls him back and snarls, “You’d better make me a mechanic. Then I can treat little tin gods like you.” Sandoval throws a punch at him, but McCoy dodges and whacks Sandoval in the stomach, putting him out flat on the ground. See, I told you it wouldn’t be hard to cure McCoy. Everyone else on the Enterprise was perfectly happy to give up their careers to go do a bit of light farming, but tell McCoy he can’t be a doctor anymore and no amount of spores are going to save you.

While Sandoval is busy rolling around on the ground, McCoy stands there looking confused for a moment, then—presumably having only just now noticed that instead of a mint julep he’s actually been drinking a coke with a bunch of cilantro in it—throws his drink aside and admits that he’s not sure why he just clobbered Sandoval. But Sandoval has other concerns for the moment. With a look of dawning horror familiar to all us chronic procrastinators, he abruptly realizes that they haven’t actually been doing anything all this time. “No accomplishments, no progress. Three years wasted. We wanted to make this planet a garden...”

McCoy points out that the colonists really will have to leave—they can’t survive here without the spores handling all that radiation for them. But the dream’s not over; the colonists could be relocated to start again somewhere a bit less deadly, if that’s what they want.

“I think I’d...I think we’d like to get some work done,” Sandoval muses. “The work we set out to do.”

McCoy calls Spock and says that Sandoval wants to talk to Kirk. Spock notes to Kirk that the crew are all starting to rather sheepishly call in by now. Sandoval tells Kirk that the colonists will fully cooperate with the evacuation now, and Kirk tells him to start making the preparations. Real ones, this time.

Sometime later, everyone’s back on the bridge getting ready to head out. McCoy reports that he’s examined all the colonists and they all remain in perfect health. “A fringe benefit left over by the spores.”

One would think that this would have been quite the eventful afternoon for the medical sciences, given that they just discovered spores with such incredible healing powers that they can make people regrow organs, and McCoy just confirmed that anything healed by the spores stays healed after the spores are gone. Sure, they’ve got some side effects, but Kirk’s already discovered a simple way to get rid of the things once they’re no longer needed. Strap someone to a bed, give em a facemask full of spores, let them lay there for a while having a nice buzz while they heal their cancer or whatever, then play an irritating noise at them until they sneeze the spores back out again. Boom. Done. You’ve solved medicine. Or, y’know, we could vacate the planet and never speak of it ever again, that works too.

Notably unmentioned by anybody during this little denouement is the fate of the other two settlements on the planet that Sandoval mentioned back near the beginning of the episode. The length of the timeskip isn’t specified, so it’s possible that the crew went and collected them as well in the interim, but we never get any details as to how that little adventure went, assuming that it did happen and that the Enterprise isn’t about to get halfway to the next starbase before Kirk realizes he forgot something.

As they watch the planet diminish behind them on the viewscreen, McCoy muses that this was “the second time man’s been thrown out of paradise.” Kirk disagrees. "No, no, Bones, this time we walked out on our own. Maybe we weren't meant for paradise. Maybe we were meant to fight our way through--struggle, claw our way up, scratch for every inch of the way. Maybe we can't stroll to the music of the lute. We must march to the sound of drums."

Spock remains unimpressed by this bit of philosophizing. “Poetry, Captain. Nonregulation.” Kirk notes that they haven’t heard anything from Spock about this whole ordeal, since, y’know, that definitely seems like something Spock would want to talk about. He says he’s got little to say about Omicron Ceti 3.

[ID: A close-up of Spock on the bridge as he says, "Except that for the first time in my life...I was happy."]

oh my god someone needs therapy

On that INCREDIBLY CHEERFUL note, the Enterprise flies away and the episode ends.

It’s somewhat baffling to me that of all the quite reasonable objections available to the whole situation with the spores, the main problem that Kirk—and by extension, the episode—seems to have is that “the spores make things too EASY and mankind was meant to STRUGGLE!!!” I mean, effectively what we had going on here was people being drugged without their consent into a state that overwrote their own desires, ambitions, emotions and much of their individual personalities and replaced them with bland, happy conformity to a goal and lifestyle none of them actually chose. That seems a bit worse to me than “people weren’t working hard enough.” Kirk goes on and on about how the spores made things too easy, but what they really did was make people apathetic to whether they succeeded at anything or not. Sandoval’s horrified when he’s cured of the spores because the colonists had much different plans for their colony; far from making those plans easier, the spores made them impossible. The dreams and desires of the Enterprise crew for a life of exploration among the stars would have been forever unmet if they had permanently joined the colony, they just wouldn’t have been able to care. Kirk seems to believe that the ultimate evil of the spores is that they deprive people of ambition; to me it seems that the worse evil is that they deprive people of their individuality and their autonomy.

Then there’s the fact that while the spores make people happy and friendly, they also make them remarkably blasé about the well-being of anyone who isn’t part of their collective. They have to be—caring about whether someone else is upset or hurt would make them unhappy, after all. Spock and McCoy are completely unconcerned with the mounting distress of their best friend, and beyond peer pressuring him to get with the program and take the spores like everyone else, they don’t seem to much care if he remains the only unhappy person on the planet. The colonists seem completely unbothered by the fact that all the animals they brought with them died a rather grueling death by radiation poisoning. Everyone on the Enterprise is happy to abandon the ship and join the colony with no message left behind for Starfleet, with apparently not a thought to spare for any friends and family back home, who would only ever know that their loved ones disappeared into space never to be seen again.

Or at least, they would if things actually went according to plan, which they probably wouldn’t, because the spores also made everyone cheerfully oblivious to the idea that anything could potentially cause a problem or pose a threat to them. After all, if Kirk hadn’t had a recovery at the last minute, the Enterprise would have been left unmanned in orbit around the planet, with no way for anyone in the colony to get back onboard. Uhura also goes out of her way to make sure that they no longer have any off-planet communication. So it’s probably not going to be long before Starfleet notices that one of their prize starships has abruptly gone incommunicado, and I’m willing to bet they’d be a bit quicker on that investigation than they were about checking on a tiny backwater colony (although it is Starfleet, so who knows, really). And since they know exactly where the ship was headed on its last recorded mission, it probably won’t take them long to find it. If Starfleet sends another ship along to investigate quickly enough, they’ll find the abandoned Enterprise hanging out in orbit around the planet, and Kirk’s log clearly lays out what happened, so all the other ship has to do is figure out how to neutralize the spores and everyone’s going to get rescued from Omicron Ceti 3 pretty quickly whether they want to be or not.

If Starfleet doesn’t show up in time...Kirk says the ship can be “maintained in orbit” for several months, but then what? It can’t stay up there forever. Sooner or later, the orbit will decay and the ship’s going to crash into the planet, and if it crashes anywhere near one of the colonies, their magic healing powers are going to be put to the test. Also their magic agriculture powers--rich soil and mild weather is all well and good, but is that going to be enough to carry all those crops through the ensuing environmental effects of an impact that big? Especially since, as already mentioned, the colony has enough to feed them and that’s about it—so they really can’t afford to lose any crops for very long.

Sure, maybe the Enterprise wouldn’t crash close enough to any of the colonies to ruin them, but why take the risk? All they had to do was have a helmsman set it on a course out of orbit, then take a shuttlecraft back to the planet. Doesn’t occur to anyone, evidently. Nor do we see anyone bothering to bring any supplies or equipment from the ship to the colony, even though there’s gotta be lots of stuff up there that would be useful. All in all, it seems quite likely that Paradise would have eventually collapsed in on itself simply because the spores make people unable to pay attention to any potential threats or obstacles long enough to do anything about them.

So what’s the moral here? ‘Society can’t survive if everyone is stoned all of the time’? I mean, okay? Sure? Cool? Glad we sorted all that out.

That said, despite having ranted for the past nine hundred words about the weird moral, I’m not saying this episode is bad. As a serious point about human nature I don’t find it especially compelling—YMMV, but I just personally tend to side-eye stories that center around the idea of “wouldn’t it be awful if we all had it too easy??”--but as fifty minutes of extremely Star Trek-y silliness it’s glorious. We’ve got Spock hanging from a tree and talking about dragons while making out in the grass, McCoy going full Georgia and wandering about with something he thinks is a mint julep, Kirk stomping around in increasing agitation as he tries to get some sense out of somebody and then making emo log entries while he sits on the bridge alone...it’s great.

The original draft of this episode apparently had the romantic subplot be for Sulu, who would have been motivated to stay with Layla after having been diagnosed with a serious medical condition that was cured by the spores, kind of like the eventual plot with McCoy in For the World Is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky. D.C. Fontana rewrote the story to focus on Spock, since if you have an episode about something that causes a strong emotional reaction, throwing Spock and his ever-present internal conflict into the mix is kind of the most immediately obvious way to generate some pathos and drama. The spores originally granted those affected with them telepathic abilities, enabling them to link with everyone else who’d been spore’d and form a hivemind. There are some traces of this in the final episode with spore’d people talking about “joining us” and “being one of us” and so on, but without the telepathy part it just kind of makes it sound like they’re in a cult. Also, the cure for the spores would have been consuming alcohol, so presumably in that draft McCoy never got infected.

For the purposes of the Trek Tally I’m going to count the spores as a Space Disease, which might be broadening the umbrella of that term a bit but hey, close enough. Next time we’ll be looking for life, Jim, but not as we know it, in The Devil in the Dark.

[greenroseunderglass]

To Your Hands : Fanfic - Star Trek TOS (Gen)

@sicktember2021

@sicktember

Prompt# 14 - Aches and Pains

Summary: Jim Kirk rescues himself from a hostage situation, of course, but he doesn't do it unscathed. His friends want to catch him even if he refuses to fall.

2 Parts: Bones and Spock

Bones

They had been taken after a pitched battle in the transporter-shielded Hall of Commerce, Kirk and five junior officers from security, and one aide from the Federation Ambassador's party. They had been held three nights and well into the fourth day before Kirk led their escape into an absolute deluge. There had been so much communications interference, natural and man-made, Spock never should have beamed them aboard, not from a planet of shapeshifters, but something had made him certain of their identities, and they'd avoided imminent capture for the familiar corridors of the Enterprise. With a thousand things to do, Kirk hadn't been the most cooperative patient until Bones had nearly shouted him down in front of the main ward in Sickbay. He'd gone with what grace he could still find after that. Kirk would have admitted only if asked twice that he did feel better once he let himself change into soft, dry sweats and the nurses put warm re-hydrating fluid into his arm. But then, it took Bones about seven seconds to be back over once that was set up, so he didn’t get to enjoy the simple pleasure of it for long. McCoy was a healer, though, a real doctor when he had a real patient. Once Kirk stopped resisting he slowed down, his grumbles softening, his voice finding a quieter, deeper register that radiated authority and safety in a way that affected even someone as familiar with him as Jim Kirk. The doctor went over Kirk with his big, warm hands after he stopped whirring at him with the scanner. He was careful, and thorough. Everything hurt, either when touched or when moved, but those hands left bruises and strains feeling not only cataloged but better somehow as McCoy passed gently over them. Kirk started yawning, though, as McCoy moved over him again, this time with a protoplaser. He made himself go up on his elbows as McCoy reached his shins, and that was the end of the idyll. “You just lie right back down there and go to sleep," McCoy snapped. "All the other hostages are in for a night of observation, and it won’t hurt you for once.” Kirk just yawned again and smiled at him to prompt a suspicious look, because getting Bones annoyed early over nothing in particular was always good tactics. “Oh, I plan on being asleep, soon. I do have some things that have to be done first, though. And-“ "You are not-" Without pause, Kirk repeated himself, enunciating over McCoy’s objection, “And. It will be done sooner if you cooperate. Send Rand and Johann in here, and Sumani. “ He stretched a little and squirmed. “And another couple of pillows, so I can recline in state.” “Back still bothering you?” McCoy asked, small whirring scanner immediately back in his hand. "You never let me spend enough time with the protoplaser when you have deep bruising like this. You must still be sore all over." “Yes," Kirk said dryly. "Every thing I own is bothering me, doctor.” He huffed a laugh, dismissing it. “I am tired, and I've been told sleeping on stone floors is not good for me. But unless you plan on running one of those things over every inch of me at every depth, I think I'll just have to sleep it off.” No, sleeping on cold stone floors was not good for him, McCoy thought, or good for his aching body. Neither was three nights in clammy damp, or an hour getting soaked through during their escape, or the slight fever Kirk was running from the cold he was definitely coming down with. McCoy huffed back at him, frustrated. He would be laughed at if he suggested Kirk spend some time in one of the hot spa baths, and that was really the only prescription he had at the moment, for all his training. He couldn't give any of the hostages much in the way of pharmaceutical pain relief, not after their captors had drugged them so extensively. And Kirk was right, damnit -- he would end up resting more quickly if McCoy let him work unhindered for a little while. The doctor stiffly left the room, but he did grudgingly call the Captain’s yeoman and left her to manage the rest of it. He forbid her from giving Kirk the fresh uniform she turned up

with, but decided to look the other way on the coffee. It took less than an hour after that for Kirk to fight himself free, of the fires in his command and the solicitude of the nurses. He had a lot on his plate in about ten hours, but being involved with a planet with deeply held taboos about actions taken in the night hours, and sitting in geosynchronous orbit above its capital, had its advantages. Caught up and feeling human again, Kirk leaned against McCoy’s office door to wave his way out, but McCoy peremptorily pointed at a seat while finishing a consult with M’Benga. Finally McCoy sat behind his desk and pulled a bottle and two glasses from the cabinet behind him. Kirk took the rich brown liquid he was being offered and breathed deeply over his first sip, settling gingerly back in the hard chair. “Oh, that’s good,” he said, then set it neatly back on the desk to turn his head and sneeze lightly, twice, into the crook of his arm. McCoy tch’ed at him and tossed him a box of sickbay ‘tissues’. “I should have made you a hot toddie, if you’re going to start that. I should put you back on the biobed. ” Jim gave another of his wry, dismissive laughs at that, but his voice was probably more serious than he meant it to be. "You can't confine me for the common cold, Bones, and you can't treat it anyway." "Can't cure it. You've already had a shot to make sure you're not contagious, and one to shorten the duration. There's another one that will help stop inflammation in your sinuses and your chest, but that one makes you sleepy, so you only get that when you're actually leaving." "Which is at the bottom of this glass," Kirk told him. "And yes, I'm actually going to bed." He hesitated, and looked into his drink before taking another sip, then, "They are all going to be all right, Bones?" "Yes," McCoy said simply. "The ambassador's aide--" Kirk held up a finger and raised his voice slightly. "Ambassador Goddard, join us, please." The man had been loitering in the corridor, half eavesdropping and half nervous about disturbing them. He was there for an update on his aide, who was doing well physically but would probably need some trauma counseling. After earlier arguing on the Bridge that the Captain's party not be beamed aboard, citing security risks, Goddard did not feel he should linger around any of the officers at the moment. He drank off his whiskey like a good diplomat and was leaving as quickly as he'd come, but paused to watch when the Captain started to stand also and was pinned back into his chair by a vigorously pointed finger. "You, you wait until called for." Kirk wobbled his head in apparent amusement and eased back down. He saw Goddard watching him and grinned. "Never cross a CMO during a multiple casualty event, ambassador. Rule number three of Captaining a starship." Goddard was a beat slow, but training kicked in and he obligingly asked what the first two rules were. He couldn't believe how lightly Kirk seemed to be taking the whole situation, even his own abduction. He couldn't imagine how to talk to the man about his legitimate concerns, but agreed to join a debriefing at 0800. Kirk was 'called for' minutes later by the formidable First Officer, which made Goddard wish he hadn't dawdled. Spock arrived just as Kirk was saying something about his aide's fortitude during the escape, and Spock apparently took that to mean the ambassador was grilling Kirk. "Surely, gentleman, there is nothing about the hostages' escape or confinement that can't wait until the 0800 debriefing." His voice was even, his face was mild, and Goddard felt a wall of solid dislike hit him like a burst of steam. Vulcans were only touch-telepaths, that couldn't be a real energy he was feeling, but he exercised the better part of valor, made his goodnights, and fled anyway. He caught a glimpse of Kirk glancing after him with a look of surprise as he went. "What did he do?" Kirk asked, sliding to the edge of the chair in preparation to stand as McCoy returned and went to get the hypo on his desk. "I cannot imagine what you

mean, Captain," Spock said evenly, then offered his arm to help Kirk up. He didn't need the help -- he was sore and achy, not impaired -- but he bit down on his pride and accepted it, just to get himself on his feet. Spock needed to feel like he was doing something, too, however small the gestures. McCoy glared at them both and gave Jim the shot in the shoulder. "That's going to be a little sore, sorry, but it'll keep your cold from becoming a misery. Now you just have to get him to bed before he starts tipping over," he addressed Spock. Anger flashed and was forcibly cooled in Kirk's mind. On a normal day the two of them thought he needed a keeper, but this wasn't a normal day, and he had no right to the familiar annoyance. He'd been lost to them for almost ninety hours this time. As his friends, they had a right to manage him a little. He'd keep allowing it. Tonight.

Spock

As he and Spock walked down the corridor, Spock still in possession of his arm, Kirk began to be glad he'd been so high-minded about the whole thing, because he was definitely beginning to sway. In the turbolift he said, "McCoy wasn't kidding about that shot," just as he sneezed and his knees tried to give. Spock moved to catch him more firmly, but Kirk waved him off. "I'm all right. I only have to get to my quarters." His cabin was cozy with two in it, if luxurious for a Starship – he patted Spock away by catching hold of the screen divider and clinging. “Shower first, then bed. Despite McCoy’s solicitous comments, I will actually be all right from here.” He smiled and waved Spock back toward the door. Spock gave ground, but only to the other side of the desk. His expression was determined, yes, but mostly… unimpressed. Kirk surmised he must look about like he felt. Spock could always see through him, anyway. Before he could even plead his case, Spock said calmly, “I am aware that the only active attack on your health at the moment is from a simple cold, which is not a serious affliction. However, the depth of your exhaustion makes any further impairment concerning, and I will not feel I have complied with the Doctor’s orders until I have seen you to proper rest.” Kirk gave him a bit of a side-eye. “You’re going to stay here until I fall asleep, whether I like it or not?” “Might I suggest you allow my assistance in certain matters, strictly for the sake of expediency?” God, he was so, damn, tired. And he had spent three nights as a captive, the better part of four days slightly ill and soundly beaten and responsible for crew and civilian lives despite his helplessness to secure even his own. He had managed to get them all to safety, but he was. He was so tired, and there was a gentleness waiting in Spock’s hands if he would just give in, the expression of feelings his Vulcan friend could never express any other way. And he trusted Spock, didn't he? Spock could take the watch, he could take the burden, for a little while. When his knees wobbled this time Spock caught him and carefully peeled him off the divider to sit him on his bed. A quick hand ran through the hair of his bowed head, a gesture they would both deny. Spock helped him out of everything he could get off while sitting, then went to make sure the water shower was a good temperature. Kirk got a look when he toddled into the bathroom unassisted and naked, but Spock merely reeled him in with one long arm and made sure he was steady in the shower before turning his back to give him privacy. Kirk woke up enough to realize he really was out of it enough to be worrying the Vulcan, and regretted it. No words could fix the situation, either. Spock didn't need reassurances. He just needed to see Jim cared for and at rest. He turned his face up into the hot water and groaned with pleasure. That didn't sound like such a bad idea at the moment, at that. He washed quickly but let himself soak slowly. The steam-filled stall and hot water pouring over him reached into him, soaking out the cold of the day and easing the bone-deep ache from the creeping chill of three days in the cellars. When he shut off the spigot he still felt exhausted, he still felt slightly sick, he still ached all over, but it didn’t feel like it could take him to the floor, now, none of it. His muscles felt looser and his joints less stiff -- maybe he could actually sleep. He set the cubicle to hot air cycle, which was almost as nice as the hot water had been, as targeted forced air wicked the water from skin and hair, until some inner threshold was quite suddenly crossed and he found himself caught in a flash of over-heated ill-feeling and sudden dizziness. He shut off the dryer and cracked the door. Thankfully, the relatively cool air in the small bathroom cleared his head again. The patiently-waiting blue-clad back finally turned to offer him a towel and a promise of steadiness if he couldn’t find it himself. Kirk smiled a little, appreciative and too tired not to be warm about it,

gave his hair one last good towel and went to find sleep pants and a shirt, and an over-shirt. He made it to the over-shirt before sleepy dizziness sent him to sit on the side of his bed with the warm garment in his lap. He took a long breath, curled in on himself and shuddered, once. He let his eyes stay closed for a moment, just a moment, to clear his head and steady his breath, before straightening out very slowly. For Captain Kirk, this level of pain was a blessed relief. For exhausted, depleted, off-guard Jim who just wanted desperately to sleep it was almost more than he could handle. “Captain,” Spock said very quietly from right behind him. A gentle hand touched between his shoulders. "Jim. Allow me to help you, so you may rest.” He put his hands on Kirk’s shoulders and dug carefully into muscle with his long fingers, thumbs tracing downward in mirror arcs. “Let me help.” Spock was capable of spectacularly effective back-rubs, the kind of shock-and-awe attacks that annihilated knot after knot efficiently and then gentled it just enough before moving on. That was not what he was offering now. No painful return to function. This was an offer for comfort. Kirk’s head immediately dropped forward in pure animal desire for release from pain. “You’re needed –“ the protest was less than half-hearted. “I’ll be contacted if I’m needed, Captain. We’re in a unique position, with the Ariz’ strict adherence to daylight-only activity. We have a minimum of ten point two hours before we may expect movement from those in the capital.” Just the tips of Spock’s fingers dug in all across his back, and Kirk arched his back and tried to remember what he was saying. He mostly wanted to groan, already.

Kirk closed his eyes and gave himself up to the shoulder rub, at least, almost falling asleep within perhaps a minute before he woke himself with a light sneeze and decided to give in completely. He shifted, and Spock did most of the work in pulling back the covers and settling Jim full length on his front, hugging a pillow. Jim murmured something he knew would have embarrassed them both if they'd been face to face, but he was utterly giving his body into Spock’s hands now. God, so much strength in those hands, to be so careful with him. Jim had been trying not to be too vocal in his appreciation but he couldn’t repress a long, quiet noise as something at the base of his neck - that had been tied directly into a pounding in his temple for the last two days - let go all at once. The momentary pinch of pain in the muscle was skillfully rubbed out. He was drifting toward sleep, and closing his eyes again seemed like the natural next step. Spock had him, and the ship, and he could sleep for awhile. The occasional sharp kneading ceased. Now Spock was applying just enough pressure to keep him wanting to groan, all over him in turns, and Kirk could feel pain he’d become so accustomed to he barely noticed it rise into consciousness just long enough to be soothed away. Oh, Spock was good at this. Finally, the long-fingered hands came to rest on his near forearm, just above his hand. Spock pushed Kirk's hair back from his face and asked quietly, "Are you awake enough to eat something off your meal card? The doctor did say you should take nourishment. Then you can rest." He found one of the tissues in time to sneeze into it as he rallied on autopilot, “I refuse to accept chicken noodle soup as a prescription.” Spock ran a hand through his hair again as he stood up, plausible deniability in that it made it easier to see his face, then folded his hands behind himself and looked down on Kirk, who made some effort to look awake. He couldn’t seem to care enough to succeed under Spock's carefully stoic expression -- Jim could feel the warmth and fondness radiating out of it, in the little quirk at the corner of Spock’s lips and in the soft brown of his eyes. "Yes, Captain. Something warming, though," he hmm'd. "You've done enough for tonight, Spock." Kirk smiled at him, warm, god, how could cool Vulcan skin have gifted him with such a sense of positive warmth? "I can synthesize my own cup of soup. If I can move at all." Kirk smiled and gave a low groan as he stretched himself to feet on the floor and himself more or less sitting up. "Captain --" Spock demurred. "The doctor did insist on this." So he let Spock synthesize him a cup of soup without too much grumbling -- Vulcan aureg, thank you, not chicken noodle. And Spock did more or less end up putting Jim to bed, when he couldn't seem to coordinate his limbs anymore -- exhaustion, release of stress, sleep deprivation, ha! Jim was blaming it on McCoy's injection. The lights dimmed and he could feel Spock sitting on the side of the bed. After a moment he felt a cool hand pass through his hair again, rest for a moment at the nape of his neck, then Spock rose quietly from the bed and walked away. The moment after that, Jim was asleep. End

[jesbelle-writes]

The Gift

After his failed attempt to reach kohlinar,  Spock found that the rhythms of life aboard the Enterprise were somehow different.  He had reached a hard-won détente between his Human emotions and his Vulcan logic, and it cast a new light on even the most familiar of rituals – such as the one now playing out in Kirk’s quarters.

“So Bones – your birthday’s coming up...”  Kirk opened this conversation just as he had every year about this time.

“I don’t want a big fuss,” said McCoy, with the same frown as usual.

“How about a little fuss then?” asked Kirk, the customary amused smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“I suppose I could tolerate it, if I had to,” came the reply.

And so some small celebration would be agreed upon.  A place and time would be chosen for a quiet round of drinks; Scotty, Chapel, Uhura, Sulu, and (now that was no longer “the kid”) Chekov would be invited; and they’d all spend a quiet evening getting mildly inebriated and swapping reminiscences.  Spock would attend, of course.  McCoy was his friend, after all.

But this year, Spock couldn’t shake the feeling that something special was in order – something to acknowlege the shift he sensed in his relationship with McCoy.  He couldn’t really name the nature of that shift – it was different somehow to the way his other relationships had changed – but he felt a need to take some kind of action nonetheless.

He wanted to give McCoy a birthday present.

His mother had explained gift-giving to him when he was a child.  She had provided him with an exhaustive lesson on the rituals and obligations involved, including a list of the types of gifts that would be considered appropriate to each occasion.

“But sometimes,” she said, “a person wants to give a gift from the heart – something that shows how much regard they have for another person. The best gifts on these occasions are something the recipient can experience.  A happy memory is worth a thousand objects.”

Spock understood that these “little fusses” that Jim put together were exactly that – another in a collection of happy memories for McCoy.  Spock wanted to give McCoy something like that.

The bulk of his meditation time was dedicated to solving the puzzle of how to do that.

He considered the activities that McCoy engaged in during his rare breaks from work. He spent the bulk of his time simply “hanging out” with Spock or Jim or Christine.  He enjoyed reading a genre of books he called “dimestore trash” that Spock had no idea how to even begin to obtain.  And he enjoyed music.

Music seemed promising.  McCoy’s tastes were eclectic, but Spock had a good ear and he was reasonably certain that he could find something that would please McCoy.

It was in this frame of mind that he noticed the humming.

There was a little snippet of a tune that McCoy hummed when he was trying to unravel any particularly thorny problem.  Spock had heard it hundreds of times when sharing laboratory space with McCoy.  It had long ago been relegated to the background noises of the lab.

It was a pretty tune, and obviously a favorite.  He asked Dr. Chapel about it that afternoon.

“You mean the one that goes hum de dum dum dum hum de dum dum dum?”  She mangled it completely, but it was still recognizable as the same tune, if only barely.

“Yes,” said Spock.  “Do you know the title of the piece?”

“Sorry, no.  I asked him about it once.  He got really self-conscious and said it was just something his mother used to sing.  Then I didn’t hear it for about a month.”

Jim was no help.  “I don’t spend much time in the lab,” he pointed out.  “And his mom was some kind of music historian, so she probably knew a lot of obscure songs.”

Spock made a recording of himself playing the tune on his lyre and fed it into the ship’s computer, but it matched nothing in the database.  Finally, he sent the recording to the library at Memory Alpha and waited.

The answer came almost fourteen hours later – a song from the mid-twentieth century, lost for nearly 200 years before it was discovered in an archive on the North American continent at a place called Muscle Shoals.

The tune was sweet, and the song was short.  But the lyrics...

If Spock had searched for years, he couldn’t have found a song more suitable. He decided that the piece should be performed live.

“It’s beautiful, Spock.  Where did you find it?” asked Uhura.  “It’s just so… Dr. McCoy, isn’t it?”

“I believe it is a favorite of his,” said Spock.  “I would like to play it at his birthday.  I was hoping that you would agree to sing it.”

“I’d love to, but I think you should do it.  It would fit your range.”

“My musical range, perhaps.  It is a very emotional piece,” said Spock.

They practiced the song every night.

McCoy’s birthday was in the forward observation lounge.  It was busy tonight, and when Spock picked up his lyre and Uhura stood next to him a hush fell over the crowd.  

“If I needed you Would you come to me, Would you come to me, And ease my pain?” sang Uhura.

“If you needed me, I would come to you, I’d swim the seas For to ease your pain.”

“In the night forlorn The morning’s born And the morning shines With the lights of love.”

Spock spared a glance toward McCoy, but Jim was seated between them, blocking his line of sight.

“You will miss sunrise If you close your eyes And that would break My heart in two.”

Spock tried twice more to catch a glimpse of McCoy to no avail.  It wasn’t until the final chorus that he saw him.  

McCoy looked stunned, overcome, but with what emotion, Spock couldn’t tell. There were, however, most definitely tears in his eyes.

The song ended to enthusiastic applause and several people came to pay their compliments – mostly to Uhura.  McCoy was among them.  He took Uhura’s hand in his and said, “Thank you so much, Nyota.  That was lovely.”  He nodded toward Spock.  “You played that… very well – as usual, Spock.”  He raised his glass toward the others. “I want to thank y’all for coming tonight.  I know the night’s still young, but I’m not so much, and I’ve just had a week and a half of long shifts.  So if y’all’ll excuse me, I’m going to head on out and get some shut-eye before I have to deal with the next torn rotator cuff or targ bite or what-have-you.”

There followed the usual well-wishing and congratulations as McCoy left.  Spock, feeling unsettled and having no desire to feel unsettled in public, picked up his lyre and retired to his own quarters…

… where he was surprised to find Dr. McCoy leaning against his desk.

“I used my medical code,” said McCoy.  “I hope you don’t mind.  I promise I’m not planning to make a habit of it.”

Spock nodded. “I apolo--”

“I’m sor--” McCoy shook his head.  “You got nothing to be sorry for.  Just… let me say my piece and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Go ahead.”

“Thanks.”  McCoy took a deep breath.  “I… what you did tonight, Spock – that was the nicest, most thoughtful gift I’ve ever gotten.  I couldn’t say this with a bunch of people around, but I need you to know what it meant to me.

“My mama used to sing me that song when I’d have bad dreams.  She’d come sit on my bed and… stroke my hair… and sing that song.  And it worked every time.

“She sang a lot of songs.  She had a beautiful voice and she played guitar.  She made a lot of recordings of those songs, and after she died, I’d play them all and pretend she was still there – just in the other room, singing.  Well, I was just kid...  

“Anyway she never got around to recording that one.  So I’d sing it to myself when the bad dreams woke me up.  I forgot most of the lyrics.  I forgot what it sounded like when she sang it.  I forgot what her fingers felt like in my hair.  But it always made me feel better.

“I guess I got used to singing it.  It was the tune I’d whistle in the dark, and it became the thing I turned to whenever the going got even a little rough.

“That’s what you gave me tonight.  You gave me back her song.  I don’t have words for that.”  McCoy swiped at the tear that had fallen onto his cheek.  “If you weren’t a Vulcan I’d hug you.”

Spock didn’t know what to say.  He was experiencing a rush of emotions too powerful and too complex for him to even name, let alone express, not that he wished to express them.  He didn’t even want to experience them.

Did he?

“And on that note,” said McCoy, standing up,  “I’ll just see myself out.”

“Leonard.”

McCoy had nearly reached the door when Spock put out his hand to stop him.  He took him by the wrist, his fingers curling around the warm, soft skin above McCoy’s pulse.

The sensation cut through some of the turmoil in Spock’s mind.  This was… good?  It was… fitting.

It was right because Spock had wanted to touch McCoy, hadn’t he?  He’d wanted to give a gift that would touch McCoy’s heart.

And now he was touching his skin and that was also what he’d wanted, wasn’t it?

He pulled McCoy closer, put his arms around him, held him.  And holding was also what he’d wanted.

And then McCoy’s arms wrapped around his waist…

...and there.  This is what it is to fit, thought Spock.  This is what it is to be exactly where he belonged.

McCoy drew back a little, enough to look Spock in the eye.  “You sure?”

Spock nodded.  “I am now.”

And then he kissed him.

Just a little note -- the song is “If I Needed You” by Townes Van Zandt.  I’ve used it in fics before because it gives me serious Bones vibes.  I actually had this scene in mind for one of those fics, but ended up using something else, so now you get it here.

[wickedsingularity]

Can’t Sleep Without You [One-shot]

Fandom: Star Trek Pairings/characters: Jim Kirk x reader (but not really), Leonard McCoy, mention of Spock Words: 2359 Warnings: Use of medication, use of possible addictive medication, insomnia, nightmares, almost graphic description of a disturbing dream

Note: A somewhat self-indulgent story that I posted a little while ago, but had panic about after a few hours and then deleted. It felt too personal, too self-indulgent, amongst other things. I planned on giving it some time, and then rewrite it so it was less personal. I did give it time, but I haven't rewritten it, just edited. And now I'm giving it another go, hoping that I don't panic this time around and telling myself so fucking what if it's self-indulgent. And hopefully people enjoy it because I do like this story.

Summary: Having suffered from insomnia for a long time, Jim is the only thing that manages to calm me enough to function when it gets bad. But Jim is off on a mission...

"You look like something the cat dragged in, Commander."

"Thanks a lot, Doctor." I glared up at Leonard McCoy as he towered over me. Even if I couldn't stand the stuff, I was now on my third cup of coffee of the day. But I was also on my fourth day of barely any sleep, and I was desperate for something to keep me alert.

"Have you had trouble sleeping again?"

I downed the last of the coffee, cringing as the bitter liquid made its way down and sat the cup down on my empty lunch tray. I closed my eyes for a moment and grit my teeth, trying not to snap at the obvious question. "Looks that way."

The doctor sat down at the other side of the table and looked at me with worry, not even phased by my annoyance. "I've seen you getting worse the last few days, Commander. Why haven't you come to see me?"

"What you gave me three days ago made me wake up after four hours with a nightmare from hell. I'm still seeing ghosts in broad daylight."

He pursed his lips. "Please stop by the medbay at 2200 hours. We'll try something else."

I sighed, knowing that there was only one thing that would help, and it was not something our Chief Medical Officer could provide no matter how good he was. But I nodded. "Yes, doc." Then I pulled myself to my feet, grabbed the tray and went to put it back in the replicator for recycling.

For as long as I could remember, I'd had some form of insomnia. It hadn't been a problem when I was younger, I had been more energetic, more durable, not to mention more careless. But as I got older it got worse. Most of the time I managed to keep it under control, but sometimes it took on a life of its own. And when it did that, there was no medication, meditation or treatment that worked better than the captain of the ship, my boyfriend.

There was just something about Jim that calmed my mind like nothing else.

Funnily enough, insomnia was what brought us together. I had been wandering around the ship one night, after several nights of little sleep. Finding myself in the briefing room, I had sat down in the chair reserved for the captain, put my feet up on the table and gazed out at the streaking stars. After a few minutes of silence, the door had slid open and Captain Kirk had walked in. We were already on friendly terms, so I hadn't bothered taking my feet off the table or giving him the chair, even when he made a joke about it being his.

He'd been having trouble sleeping too, claiming his mind was running at warp 5 after an exhausting meeting in that very briefing room earlier in the day. He'd chosen to go back there in the hopes that it would clear his head.

We sat next to each other, him in the First Officer's chair and I kept occupying his, and chatted for a while. All the while we both seemed to gravitate more and more towards each other and I got sleepier at the same time, until I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder. He had gathered me up in his arms and ordered a site to site transport, dropped me off on my bed and pulled a blanket over me, before going back to his quarters, falling asleep as well. After that, our friendship had shifted and things escalated quickly from there.

Now though, he and Spock and several admirals were trying to work out a peace treaty between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. We had dropped them off on a colony near the Neutral Zone and had then gone off to survey a newborn nebula a couple of systems over. We weren't scheduled to go back for them for another two or three days, the trip itself took a whole day. And my body was kind enough to refuse to sleep properly without Jim now, no matter how much in control of the insomnia I was.

I made it through the day somehow, with at least two more disgusting cups of coffee. Thankfully, there was more than enough to do in Engineering that I decided to not leave once my shift was over, it was better to keep working than sitting in my quarters and feeling like I had been in the middle of a warp core breach. As soon as Jim and Spock came back, Starfleet wanted us to check out an uninhabited planet that a passing cargo ship had detected held large deposits of deuterium and our long-range sensors had detected too much atmospheric disturbance for transporting, so we had to adjust the shielding on several shuttlepods. I was barely conscious when I stumbled into the medbay at 2200 hours.

"Not looking any better, I see." Bones appeared out of nowhere and would have scared the daylights out of me if I hadn't been so sluggish.

"Your bedside manners are always so lovely."

He ushered me over to a biobed and pulled a tricorder from one of his pockets.

"There's no need to scan me. We both know what's wrong. Just give me what you think I need and I'll be off." I looked at the tricorder with annoyance.

He didn't answer but started scanning me anyway, so I sat there patiently, closing my tired eyes and listening to the whirring of the device. "It's a wonder they haven't found a cure for this yet, after 200 years of research," he muttered to himself.

I looked up at him and saw him analysing the results. "You've found a cure for some pretty serious viruses on your career, why don't you find the cure for this?" I argued.

"This isn't a virus, sweetheart."

"Still, I'm sure you're brilliant enough to find a solution." Bones always said that flattery would get you nowhere with him, but I found that more often than not, he enjoyed having his ego stroked. He was that good too.

He just huffed and went over to a cabinet. I saw him pull out a vial and fill up a hypospray. "I know you have tried this before and it didn't work so well. But that was a few years ago, it might work better for you now." I nodded and obediently bared my neck to him. One touch of the cold metal to my skin and it was done. "I want you to go straight to bed now. It should work quickly and you have to be in bed when it does."

"Yes, sir."

It did not work. Or, I did sleep through the night, but the dreams had me waking up more exhausted than if I hadn't slept at all. It had been worse than last time, the irrational, weird and disgusting dreams had just come at me, one after the other. I would honestly prefer good old-fashioned nightmares over this. I called Bones as soon as I had showered away the night and he was at my door by the time I had dressed.

"Sit down," he barked, the tricorder out and a deep furrow between his brows. "What happened?"

I told him all about the night, even gave him some snippets of the nasty dreams for emphasis, each one of them still crystal clear and disturbing in my mind. The way he cringed at some of it, told me just how disturbing they had been. It wasn't normal to dream that you're pooping out severed arms, after all. *

"This is very strange," he said after he was done scanning. "Barely any light or deep sleep at all. Dream sleep almost all night. I've heard about a few phenomena that cause a person to not have any dream sleep at all, but not nothing but dream sleep. You're not getting any more of this medication, and I'm making a note in your medical file."

I sighed, trying to think about what I could do to help myself that night. But Bones had suddenly gone very quiet. I looked up at him and there was a deep furrow between his brows, his eyes gazing down at the tricorder, but it looked like he was mentally lightyears away. "What's wrong, doc?"

He didn't react right away, but then he blinked and looked down at me. "There is something we can try, but it can be highly addictive if the dosage is off by even a fraction. Call Scotty and tell him you'll be a bit late. I need to take some blood for analysing."

All through that day, I felt a bit apprehensive about what Bones was planning on giving me later. And I missed Jim so much it ached. This was the worst it had been without him and it was also the longest we had gone without each other since we got together. I missed him because of his absence, of course. But in my sleep-deprived state, it felt a million times worse. It felt like there was a gaping, bleeding hole inside me where he should be. I needed him to calm my mind, to kiss me and tell me it's okay if I can't sleep, that I'll sleep when I'm ready and he would be there with me all the while. I needed him to breathe with me. I needed to feel him. He was able to relax me enough that I could function.

After working well past my shift again and forcing down too many cups of coffee, I forced back tears of exhaustion and desperation and went to the medbay, got the mysterious hypospray and went straight to bed.

Apart from the fact that I woke up every ten to fifteen minutes, this one worked a lot better. In the morning, I felt less like I had been hit with a meteor shower and more like I had just tumbled through a thick atmosphere without a spacesuit. Bones came to check up on me in engineering after lunch and I asked if I could get a higher dosage, hoping that maybe that would finally be what helped me sleep through the night. But he refused, he had given me as much as my body could handle without becoming addicted or suffering other nasty side effects. In defeat, I told him if I couldn't have a higher dosage, I didn't want it at all. Then I started counting the hours until Jim came home, and drank all the coffee I could stomach so I wouldn't feel like a zombie.

I was just starting to doze off. It was probably just an hour or so until my alarm, but I let sleep take me. I would take anything I could get. What felt like just a minute later though, the computer spoke to me.

"The time is 0630 hours. The time is 0630 hours."

"No no no," I moaned in annoyance, screwing my eyes shut to the illumination in the room becoming stronger. But then a pair of lips landed on my cheek.

"Forgot to turn that off," someone said.

I didn't process this right away, but in the back of my head I knew that voice and knew it was important, so I forced myself to open my eyes to the way too bright room. Jim was there next to me and judging by his one barely open eye, he had just woken up too. "Hi..."

My heart was beating wildly in my chest, the room seemed to be spinning a little, my vision getting blurry, but then he smiled with his eyes closed and started to clumsily kiss my cheek and jaw and everything cleared up.

"When did you come home?" I whispered.

Jim didn't answer but kept trying to kiss me, but he was struggling, he too seemed exhausted, not able to aim. "A while. Laid down minutes ago. Tired. Want lips."

I made a happy sound and rolled around to face him. He opened his eyes a fraction, revealing the brilliant blue I loved so much. His lips landed on my nose, then my cheek before finally finding my lips. The gaping aching hole inside me seemed to vanish. I moved closer, pressing my lips and my body to his and everything inside me seemed to settle down, mind was quiet, all tension washed away. When I needed air, I pulled back just enough so I could stare into his eyes and see every little shade of blue in them. "You're home."

"The time is 0635 hours. The time is 0635 hours."

"Home and tired." His breath washed over me when he spoke and I wanted to breathe nothing but him for the rest of my life.

"Ditto. Haven't slept since you left."

"I know, Bones told me. I'm so sorry, Supernova."

"'s okay. Just missed you." My voice broke, and all the frustrations from the past week made a few tears fall. Jim snuck one of his arms around my waist and I moved even closer, burying my face into his neck, breathing in the smell of stars and nebulas and galaxies. "How were the peace talks?" I asked between lazy kisses to the soft skin on the side of his neck.

Jim didn't reply right away. Instead, he kissed my hair, breathing it in for a moment. "Exhausting. I'll tell you all about it later."

"The time is 0640 hours. The time is 0640 hours."

"Have to get up," I mumbled against his skin, but my entire body felt like lead in Jim's arms.

"Computer, turn off the alarm." A gentle beep confirmed it was now turned off. Then Jim pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. "Bones told me to tell you that he has declared you not fit for duty today and that he has ordered bed rest, and if you disobey his orders, he will not hesitate to have you strapped to a biobed with a force field."

I blinked. "But..."

"And your Captain concurs. He recommends you spend the day with him in bed and sleep." He was grinning at me. "He's been flying fancy admirals in a shuttle all night and is in need of some tender loving care from the love of his life."

I knew there were things I had to do in Engineering. It would take time and almost all the Engineering staff to get the shuttlepods ready in time for exploring the deuterium planet. But as I looked into Jim's eyes, I felt exhaustion all the way to my bone marrow, and there was no point arguing with that, or the Captain and the Chief Medical Officer. I teared up with relief and buried my face in Jim's neck again.

Jim settled down on his back and pulled me halfway on top of him. I swallowed down my emotions and rested my head on his shoulder, tangled my legs with his, and laid my arm across his stomach. Peace filled me and I barely had time to mumble love you before I was fast asleep.

Note: * Yes, I have actually dreamed that as a side effect of taking melatonin.

[qvid-pro-qvo]

fuck, marry, kill

aos!leonard mccoy x female!reader, who’s a nurse on the starship enterprise. 

word count: 5885

rating: explicit (workplace sex, at the end, for fun.) 

part one of more than a game, you and me.

A silly game from your academy days gets interrupted, leaving you to think over how you really feel about the great Dr. McCoy. 

“Goddammit, bastard, son of a fucking bitch,” you hissed, shaking your hand after yanking it back from the control panel next to your shower. It had the gall to shock you, one that rippled down your arm and almost made your other hand drop the towel you clung to for decency. Somehow the same steady hands that could wield a pair of hypodermics and a tricorder without thinking about it managed to break every other piece of equipment on the Enterprise.

A year since you got transferred, a year since the last major headache, and you had managed to build up a routine. Waking up to beta shifts until the six-month mark when you transferred to alpha shifts that gave you more to do without the headaches of fighting artificial daylight. Crew physicals and routine exams for viruses carried onboard from earth until all the crew had been cleared. Lunches six hours in, dinner six hours after that, followed by a jog, some yoga, a shower, and then… repeat.

It was a good routine. One that made you friends with other nurses in blue and engineers in red and a few on the captain track who came in more often because of their proximity to the action. You could now say “hello” to Sulu and “good morning” to Chekov and other niceties to a couple other officers. And they’d smile back, and all in all nothing was disrupted. Your routine kept you going.

But now, that routine was stopped in its tracks.

With a little huff, you shook your head. Fortunately for you, your connections through routine hypos and the occasional healing after a scuffle gave you one particularly good friend. One who was very good at fixing up the Enterprise in any state she was in. And because of your clumsiness and tendency to get shocked, that friend was simply a comm unit away. Decency first, of course.

“Y/N to Scotty.”

“Aye, lass, Scotty here.”

A sigh of relief that he wasn’t on break, or worse, sleeping. That’d been a bear you wouldn’t want to disturb more than once. Your fingers tapped away, allowing his voice to fill the room rather than sound tinny coming from the communicator and your hands to hunt for a shirt.

“Yeah, we’ve got a situation. My shower isn’t working?”

“Is that right,” the chief engineer replied, and you could tell by his voice that under the amusement there was distraction. Your problem was not the only one on his plate, then. Or at the very least, not his main focus.

“Yeah, that’s right. Shocked me, as a matter of fact, when I tried to get it going.”

“Mmm.” Make that a lot of distraction.

“Scotty?”

“Yeah, lass?”

“Can you come fix it?”

“Fix what?”

With a soft sigh you pulled your shirt over your head, shaking out your hair before pulling it up into something passable for company.

“My shower, Scott. Y’know, again, the one that shocked me. That’s not turning on. That shower.”

“Shocked you? Well, this is the first I’m hearing about it,” he scoffed, indignant, and your eyes went wide with disbelief before you heard his chuckle.

“Oh, so I’m the entertainment for this evening, then,” you muttered with a scowl, scrounging around for the pants you just had on and the regulation zip-up you could walk around the halls in.

“Of course, Y/L/N,” he retorted. “I was wondering when the next time you’d call was. After all, it’s been, what, almost a week since our last incident with the replicator, hasn’t it been?”

“Two weeks, thank you,” you snapped, the pants snatched off the floor and shaken out with a vengeance. One foot began making its way inside the leg of the pants, the other hopping on the floor. “Monty, please, I just got off shift, I’m tired, and I’m sweaty, and there were three cases of Takarian bronchiolitis that we had to treat with airborne precautions. Never mind next week’s also Christine’s birthday, who I love with all of my heart but the party I got roped into planning for, of fucking – agh!”

“Y/N!”

Bouncing on one leg could only last for so long, of course. Your head thankfully did not contact anything with a hard surface. Your ass, however, got the brunt of the blow, specifically your tailbone.

“Y/N?”

When you groaned, you heard the relief, as well as the stifled laughter.

“Can you just please come fix my shower? I think there’s an analgesic hypo with my name on it back in the med bay.”

-

Of course, you weren’t one to completely bypass the rules. The Enterprise had enough of that in places other than the medical unit, and your chief medical officer, Dr. McCoy, was a stickler for right and wrong and lines that shouldn’t be crossed. So, your hypodermic needle was checked out by Christine, administered by her, and all logged and dated with a note about the situation. And, because your appointment didn’t technically end for another fifteen minutes, there was enough time for a little bit of gossip.

Your type of news always was the kind of shit that got the whole crew talking. The next adventure, who was sleeping with who, the drama that came out of confessions when the ship was falling apart. Anything to work through the monotony. But Christine’s favorite topic was almost always you, much to your chagrin.

“You know I don’t have a love life,” you said with a roll of your eyes, sitting up on the biobed and letting your feet dangle off of the edge. “That hasn’t changed in the three days since you asked me last.”

“I do know you’re at the very least no fun about it,” she responded with an eye roll, fingers tracing over your vitals the bed collected and reported. “There’s hundreds of people on this ship, and you’re telling me that none of them catch your eye? What about the chief engineer?”

Immediately your eyes widened, and you couldn’t help the laugh that left you. “Scotty? No. No, no, we’re just friends, aggressively friends. He keeps me around because I’m the only one who gives him stuff to do during the night shifts. Without me breaking lightbulbs it’d be too dull.”

Of course, her eyebrow crept up in suspicion, but when your gaze held steady, she dropped her eyes, waving a hand like the idea was preposterous anyway.

“All right. So, no Scotty. Any ensigns?”

“No.”

“Lieutenants?”

“No.”

“Cadets?”

“Oh, my god, Christine,” you gasped out with a laugh, jumping off of the biobed, smacking her on the arm.  “Stop it.” Your eyes glanced around the med bay, but just like every beta shift began, it was pretty damn quiet. Not a soul in sight besides the two of you. “There’s no one.”

“Well, you’re no fun,” she sighed, pushing off of the wall to meet you nose to nose. “But there’s gotta be someone who at least catches your eye, right?”

“Chris…”

“Someone on this ship you’d be willing to fuck – “

“No, we’re not – “

“- marry, maybe – “

“Christine, I swear to god – “

“- or kill?”

Again, your eyes darted around, but at that point the game had been called. A throwback to your time in the academy, when your classmates would find the local bars and a booth to heckle each other in. When passersby would be unknowingly subjected to a game based on nothing but good fun, and usually a whole lot of booze.

Simple premise. Three names called out. Each gets a label, and the rounds continue until the players decide they’ve had enough. Called anywhere, at any time, and Christine had thrown the gauntlet.

“You’re on duty,” you pointed out, but you leaned back on the biobed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“And if there’s a patient I’ll tend to them. But you’ve got nowhere to be, and if I have a say we’re finding someone on this ship for you,” she pointed out, before swiping your scans away from the vicinity and joining you on the bed. “Three rounds. I bet you I can do it in three rounds.”

With an eye roll you proceeded to glare at her, but her grin did not budge once, and with a sigh you just nodded.

“Perfect. Why don’t we start with a throwback? Old classmates? Harrison, Twyla, and Betty.”

Your smile crept up on your face, and without a second thought you rattled it off. “Fuck Twyla, marry Harrison, kill Betty. Obviously.” Considering that two of the three weren’t even on the ship, you knew that it was more a warmup than anything. Lots of pretty people at the Starfleet Academy.

“All right. And then… oh, what about the bridge crew?”

“Christine,” you groaned, hand smacking over your face. “We’re in public.”

“There’s no one here, and you can’t chicken out of the second round! Look, we’ll do… Lieutenant Sulu, Lieutenant Uhura, and Ensign Chekov.”

Your jaw clenched. Forget about saying hi to Sulu ever again.

“I would… I would…”

“C’mon. You can say it, Y/N.”

“Fine, fine!” But you couldn’t help your laughter as you shoved Christine’s arm again. “I would… I would fuck Uhura, marry Sulu, and – “

“And kill Chekov? He’s got a baby face! You’re gonna kill him where he stands!”

“Christine, this is not real life,” you reminded her with a hiss, shaking your head before beginning to walk towards the door. “I’m leaving before I end up having to resign.”

“Oh, no! We’ve got one more go.”

“I’m walking. My tailbone doesn’t even hurt anymore. The miracle of modern medicine.”

“Y/N!”

“What?”

“Captain Kirk.”

“No, Christine.”

“Commander Spock.”

“Stop!”

“And Dr. Mccoy!”

“What about me?”

Your heart stopped.

“Nurse Y/L/N, is that right?” Dr. McCoy, the man himself, stated, raising a brow as he moved into the med bay, boxes stacked up in his hand. Christine did the smart thing, moving forward to help the doctor carry them inside, but your feet were cemented to the floor, mouth a little agape, color flooding your cheeks.  

“Y-Yes! Hello, sir, I was just – uh, I was just –“ you stammered, turning to follow them both with your eyes as their load was dropped on one of the biobeds. “Well. I was just leaving, really.”

“She had an appointment,” Christine offered, her best and most polite smile on for your shared boss, who seemed too tired to do more than nod. “And we were just discussing… shifts?”

“Shifts.” Again, Dr. McCoy’s brow raised, and with skilled fingers he reached to slide them along the seam, a hiss sounding out as they opened up, bearing unloaded hypodermics, some bandaging supplies.

“Shifts.” Your voice was weak as you confirmed it, but while his eyes were down Christine gave you a subtle nod, winking even as you scowled at her. “You see, I was just – I was just wondering if I could take the beta shift next week, and… well. That’s a change I need you to sign off on. Dr. M’Benga and dr. Olson didn’t have a preference when I asked them.”

“Uh-huh,” was the gruff response, and as his fingers reached up to scratch at his chin, something like amusement seemed to play in his eyes. Although, thinking about it, you reasoned it was probably just the exhaustion and the lights in the med bay you saw instead. “So, you scheduled an appointment with Christine and my medbay, takin’ up one of the biobeds here, to talk about shift changes?”

“No. No, no, it wasn’t just about that,” you got out, more heat rising to your cheeks, and thankfully your feet were moving backwards, towards the door, as their hands slid into gloves and prepped the new cargo for treatment.

“She… took a spill in her quarters. Needed an analgesic. I did a scan to make sure it wasn’t anything more than a bruised tailbone and then gave her a dose of lidocaine for the area and acetaminophen for the pain.” Of course, Christine could chime in, sounding composed, while you had just managed to regain motor functioning.

“I see,” McCoy responded, and there was a brief moment where you were sure he was gonna call your bluff. You didn’t even remember right away that there was a hypo-stick in the first place, and the lidocaine definitely did not happen, right? But then, something, almost like a smirk washed over his features. They relaxed, and those eyes lit up again, deep and dark and warm. It was like taking a shot of whiskey, the sour leaving behind something that made your breath catch.

“You know you could just say you fell on your ass, Nurse Y/L/N.”

The stories about Dr. McCoy in a nutshell. No southern charm, just a sweet Georgian gut punch. Humor hiding in the comment, of course, but at that point your embarrassment made it taste pretty damn bitter.  

Thankfully, though, the moment was gone. The smirk vanished, the exhaustion seemed to settle over him like a blanket, and his eyes glanced toward you once again before shrugging. “beta shift works for me. Just don’t let it screw with your head too much and find someone who’s willing to trade.”

“That’s… yes. Well - good night, sir,” you got out, biting your lower lip, bowing your head before shooting another glare at Christine. “Good night, Nurse Chapel, and I’ll see you both… when I see you.”

“Good night, Y/N,” Christine called out, and the good doctor managed a hum of acknowledgement, his attention already pulled away from your retreating form. And if there was a second glance at you, it was nothing more than confirmation that the night was back to peace and quiet.

-

“I am never going to recover from this.”

“Mmm,” Scotty ground out, his arm elbow deep into the guts of the Enterprise.

“I mean it, Monty!” You cried out, back flat on your bed, arm thrown across your face but leaving your mouth wide open to complain. “Jesus Christ and now I’ve gotten myself roped into beta shifts, ready to be bored out of my skull for a whole damn week. He thinks I’m an idiot. An idiot and insane!”

“D’you think?” Was the reply, but the lack of attention didn’t bother you one bit. You were barely paying attention.

No, your head was running wild, with the fear that the greatest job you had, the job you were best at, was now at risk because of some dumb game you played with Christine. What if Dr. McCoy had heard all of it? What if he had just walked in because he had heard enough, and then you’d get called into his office, not a smirk in sight, and request your resignation? Could he do that? Off of a conversation?

“Y/N!” Scotty called out, and that’s what finally broke your spiral downward, your body shooting up to a sitting position, looking up to see Scotty staring out of the bathroom at you. Your water was running, you could hear it, and Scott was grinning from ear to ear, some kind of tool tucked behind his ear.

“All fixed,” he crowed with joy, brushing his hands off on his uniform. When he leaned on the doorway, his eyes were gazing around the rest of the place, as if it was just waiting to break on him, too. “computer, shut down the shower. Now, what were you saying, lassie? Somethin’ about our chief medical officer, yes?”

And as Scott smiled at you, no recognition of your crisis in him, you just smiled back, standing up to give him a hug. Even without saying anything, he had the best ideas.

“Nothing, Monty. Thanks for the fix.”

He was hustled out a few moments later, after a playful argument taking bets on what piece of machinery in this poor room would fall apart next (he was a fan of the faulty replicator, but you had a gut feeling it’d be the temperature control). But soon he was out of the room, and you knew that ignoring the whole thing would be the best option.

Except with Christine, ignorance was never an option for bliss. When your padd beeped, and then your communicator, you were forced to answer the message, looking to see a little smiley face emoticon with a message that left your heart falling to the floor.

“Your answer? :)”

Your answer? For the game? After all of that and Christine had the gall? But you could see her smile, even from this far, a smile that made you smirk.

But they were the rules, and so the question was left in your head. What was your answer? What were the options?

You thought about it as you started to get ready for bed, t-shirt set on the counter in the bathroom, hot shower started. Your hair was put up before you stripped, your face splashed with water and a towel as steam began to fill the room.

“Captain Kirk.” No personal experience with him, but you, like everyone on the ship, had seen him around. Had heard the legends. There wasn’t a soul who didn’t seem stricken by the love bug when it came to him, blond hair perfect, smile bright, blue eyes startlingly, well, blue. Friendly, quick, brave. He was the perfect man. But not everyone knew Christine. Christine, who’d had the lovely interaction with Cadet Kirk, at the time, who ended up kicking him out of your shared dorm room after a bad argument gone bad. The air was cleared enough that he managed to get polite smiles from her, but after that captain kirk never had the appeal. He was a playboy. His nature, his right, you supposed. But not for you.

“Commander Spock.” Tall, handsome. But very Vulcan, and very taken. Now, you knew he had to have some kind of sweet side, and there was something, you guessed, about the confidence that his reliance on logic seemed to convey. After all, you’d heard him lecture a few times, and if you were honest that would’ve been when you were most attracted to him – using his knowledge and logic and proud spirit to lead others on the path toward serving the federation. But there was only so far that logic and a lack of emotion could go, and even though you’d heard of outbursts occurring where his emotion made their mark? No. Arguments aplenty.

And who did that leave?

“Dr. McCoy.”

At that point, you still hadn’t entered the shower, and the computer was telling you that the water was about to automatically turn off to preserve the function of the ship’s supply, but your head was no longer in your bedtime ritual, instead thinking about the mysterious Dr. Mccoy, the infamous Dr. McCoy.

The Dr. McCoy that made nurses cry every so often from his outbursts – never violent but fierce, always due to the protectiveness he had for his patients. The Dr. McCoy who was a doctor before he even became a cadet, with enough knowledge to fill a few books. The Dr. McCoy who had smirked at you with those dark and deep eyes, brown and full with some kind of life as he... Well, teased, southern accent lilting just a bit, maybe? That Dr. McCoy? The Dr. McCoy who saved lives and healed and always, always, always fought for more healthcare, for more hypos, for more protections for the nurses who somehow, even in the 24th century, managed to get pushed to the wayside?

When you stepped in the shower, it took a second for your fingers to bang at the control panel, your legs held together, and with a quick setting manipulation the steam quickly cleared, the water’s temperature dropping to ice cold. You were in, and you were out, but by the time you had dressed and brushed your teeth color had crept on your cheeks again.

All you could see were those eyes.

“Fuck.”

-

“Ah, Nurse Y/L/N,” the doctor said, eyes barely looking up from the singed hands of the red-shirt in front of him. “I need dermatological regen started here and a full body scan initiated on the biobed two over.”

Like nothing had even happened. Like your nightmare interaction two weeks ago hadn’t resulted in you unintentionally taking night shifts, resulting in a fucked up circadian rhythm and bags under your eyes, not to mention hours bored out of your skull.

Christine wasn’t here, and for once you were grateful. The last thing you needed was her eyes on you as you maneuvered around the doctor for a new shift while exhaustion lingered in the back of your mind. But it also meant that there was no one to offer a united front. Just you.

“Nurse Y/L/N?”

And you just spent the past minute mulling all of that in your mind. Making yourself look like a dumbass in front of the doc and his patient. The patient hadn’t noticed, staring at his own hands in horror, but Dr. McCoy seemed like he was regretting letting you back on to handle days.

Shit.

“You got it, doc,” you managed with a kind smile at the engineer, whose face you could now see as you walked past him toward the wall. Your hands expertly manipulated to storage system, and with the tricorder kept at your waist you gathered the necessities.

The great thing – you were damn good at what you did. Especially when you could focus on it. Your face was bright, uniform neat (until it wasn’t due to fluids of some kind), and your hands were steady. And no complicated patients came in that day, especially since no away missions were sent out and nothing malfunctioned horribly deep within the ship’s bowels.

And yet, no matter what you did, no matter how competent you showed you were, no matter how many laughs or smiles or even nods from the most stubborn of usual patients? Eyes were on you. Dark, deep eyes. The whole day, no matter where you went, a furrowed brow and focused tailed you, watching your interactions.

All in all, a good day. A great day, even, as you injected your last hypo and the padd reported a normal set of vitals, no reaction to the medication after fifteen minutes.

The shift was over, now. It was a good shift, one that required no personal defense. You gave report to the next nurse, said goodbye to the others on-duty. Your jacket put on, your hair pulled down and back up after the frizz of the day had ruined it. Nothing really to note.

So why did the doctor not let you out of his sight?

The rest of the week, the same routine. The flow you had gotten into on alpha shifts returned, and your week of off nights was left behind in favor of much better mornings. Back on track, the same old, same old. And yet with every shift there was a new weight, those eyes on you. It felt like if he wasn’t tending to a patient, and he wasn’t in his office in the back of the bay, he was watching you. Critical of every injection and admission. You were starting to go a little crazy with it, your mind going a million miles an hour, second guessing the simplest stuff just so you wouldn’t fuck up in front of the CMO.

But after a while, the fear of failure turned into anger.

What right did the doctor have to analyze like that? You were a great nurse! You treated your patients and coworkers fairly, with respect and compassion. What was there to complain about? You knew your shit, and here was McCoy, looking like the Enterprise regretted your assignment there in the first place. By the end of the week, that anger had built up, and once the weekend rolled around, and your two off days in a row loomed, you decided you were done.

“Is there something on my uniform, Dr. McCoy?” You asked, terse as you organized the vaccine cart, the new year meaning new yearly injections to follow up on.

His fingers had been steadily scrolling through files of crew members, but their nimble work paused at your question. His eyes had taken a break from tearing you apart, but now they were focused on you once again.

“Excuse me, Nurse Y/L/N?” He asked, his face looking almost pinched.

“I was just wondering if there was something on my uniform. Or in my teeth, perhaps. Something in my hair, maybe, too.” Your hands kept chugging along, automatically rearranging the colored liquids, but there was a tightness you couldn’t shake, a tension.

“Something in your hair?” The doctor repeated, and at his tone, somewhat amused, you finally turned to face him, your brow raised in a mimic of his.

“Well, there’s gotta be something, considering that you haven’t gone five minutes without staring at me like I’m your least favorite sight in the world. So, what is it? Uniform out of regs? Did I administer a medication wrong? Did a patient complain?”

At that point, the amusement had turned to indignation, maybe even anger. His jaw was clenched, and the padd in his hands had been abandoned on the desk in favor of crossed arms over his chest.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, nurse,” he ground out, eyes flicking around the med bay. But there was no one to look at. No one to distract or overhear.

You couldn’t help your laugh. “Oh, I think you do,” you snapped, and almost mocking him, your arms crossed as well, a hip cocked, your eyes like daggers. “Ever since I came back on alpha shift, you’ve been doing all you can to catch me in a fuck-up. Well, it’s not happening! I’m damn good at what I do, and no amount of posturing, even from the CMO, would ever change that!”

His scoff was hard, arms uncrossing so a hand could pull through his hair in disbelief. “darlin’,” he said, slowly, as if you were dense, “There’s no posturing going on. Your abilities aren’t being doubted. Hell, I don’t even know your first name. Whatever story you’ve got going on in your head? It’s a story!”

His frustration showed through his accent, a southern drawl that got thicker as his sentences rambled on. But that couldn’t distract you from calling him out on his bullshit, no matter his position.

“I’m not senile,” you huffed, eyes rolling hard, and your steps closer were unconscious, crowding him against the desk he was leaning on now. “And I’m definitely not blind. So, tell me what your problem is with me, so I can go back to focusing on my job, and you can go back to focusing on yours!”

“There’s no damn problem!” His voice was almost a yell now, but you had no fear, and you sure as hell weren’t backing down. “It’s nothing. Hell, there isn’t anything to be nothing.”

And then it clicked, it clicked, as you stared into brown eyes that wavered for a second, that scanned you top to bottom in a split second. A break, a tell, whatever it was, the pieces were put together, and you stood tall, not letting his height on you intimidate.

“You overheard me and Christine, didn’t you?” It was low. “Is that what it is?”

“Overheard.” The clench in his jaw hadn’t loosened, but you watched that brow tick upwards again, his arms uncrossing so his hands could rest on the desk.

“When you walked in on us, last week,” you clarified. “You overheard our game.”

The anger was gone now. Now that everything had slotted into place, you weren’t angry. A little bit embarrassed maybe, but not angry. Frustration felt like it was leaking out of you, but the tension wasn’t gone. The standoff wasn’t broken. And after all of what, you had just yelled at your superior officer.

“Dr. McCoy,” you started, uncrossing your arms, and holding them up to offer a truce. “I apologize. For yelling. That… well, it shouldn’t have been my first move. But. I can explain, if you want me to.”

There was no verbal reply, but his exasperation came through with a huff, and he simply lifted a hand, gesturing for you to go on.

“It’s just a game we’ve played since the academy. It was inappropriate to play while Christine was on shift. I apologize for that as well,” you told him pulling back to glance once more at the sliding doors, which mercifully stayed closed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Just a game,” he repeated, and at first you didn’t catch the shift in his tone. Didn’t connect it with the glance toward the doors, or the way he stood from the desk, so that you were almost close enough to brush against him. “Just a game… using the names of your captain, commander, and chief medical officer?”

“Yes,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m sorry for that, as well, that definitely won’t be happening again.”

“A game talkin’ about who you’d rather have in your bed.”

Your eyes shot back to him, color flooding your cheeks.

“I’m… I’m sorry?”

“Well, that’s the game, isn’t it?” He said with a shrug, and as he leaned forward you could feel your breath catch in your throat, looking up into a face you imagined in your own quarters in the dead of night, as you let steaming water hit your skin. His jaw wasn’t clenched anymore, and his voice was a low rumble.

It wasn’t a threat. But it gave you goosebumps all the same, that the bass of his words, and you managed to nod, swallowing even as you kept your chin lifted.

“That’s the game. Is there a problem?”

And God, there was that smirk. Warm like whisky, it made your hands clench, your legs shift as that warmth rushed through you.

“No problem at all,” he hummed, and as he leaned close those lips brushed past your cheek. You could smell his cologne now, spice flooding your nose, the antiseptic of the day fading away. The chill in the air that always seemed to linger was gone, nothing but heat on your mind. Right in your ear you heard him, after a low chuckle that made you want to scream, beg him to get on with it. “I guess I’ve just been wondering what you would’ve answered, had I not… interrupted.”

Lunchtimes were surely coming to an end. Any second a patient could come in, could see the both of you crowded against the desk and know exactly why the whole place felt like an oven. But something possessed you, then, to bring one of your hands to his shoulder, the other to his hip, and lean just as close, almost pushing up on your toes to whisper right back.

“Give you one guess.”

Matches. That’s what that kiss felt like, a box of matches all lighting at once – the spark and the flash and explosion of heat as Dr. McCoy pulled back just enough to press his lips against yours. Nothing gentle, nothing kind, just a ferocity that made you moan against his mouth. His hands, broad and hot, began to roam on your back, settling just enough to pull you ever closer, so that your bodies were flush against each other. Your hand ended up twisted in his hair, the other fisted in his shirt. And just like matches, it was the start of a fire, one that had you both stumbling towards his office, the door sliding behind you with a quiet hiss.

“You were teasing me,” he ground out, directing you between kisses until the back of your thighs were against his desk. His hands gripped you then, around the waist, lifting you so you could sit. “And you didn’t even know it. Your voice over and over in my head, thinking about how it’d sound with my name.”  

“So, you stare at my ass instead of asking me, hmm? What a southern gentleman,” you laughed, and for that you got teeth against your neck, a hand shoving your skirt up. The tips of his fingers seemed to skate over your skin, tickling your inner thigh. But those slow circles never quite got where you wanted, just left burning trails in their wake. “Talk about teasing.”

“At’s what you get for having a smart mouth,” he chuckled, face still against your neck. But soon he was back to kissing you, making your head spin.

“That I know how to use,” you shot back, once again between presses of lips and gasps of air. “I’m – I’m not just a pretty face.”

“Never said you were,” he purred, and this time both hands lifted your skirt high, reaching for the panties that did a poor job of hiding anything. “But why don’t you let me use my mouth first?”

“What an offer.” One you certainly wouldn’t refuse, especially since he looked hungry for it, for you.

There was a brief moment’s hesitation, his finger curled around the elastic and so close to ripping them off. But while his body was begging for it, his pants more than a little tight, his eyes met yours.

“Is that a yes?” He asked, his tongue running along his lips as he got to his knees.

Your gaze didn’t waver, a grin coming over you. “That’s a fucking yes, sir.”

His grin matched yours, sharp and wily as he rid you of your underwear, hands on your knees so he could pull them apart. You were bare to the cool air, and your teeth caught your lower lip as he leaned forward with a hot gasp on your inner thigh.

“Fucking gorgeous.”

The first thing you felt was the swipe of his tongue, a furious push against where you were wettest. A taste, almost, before he licked a line through your folds until his mouth enveloped your clit. You were swollen, desperate for it, and your gasp was thick as fingers once again tangled in his hair. If you said anything, it was a “please,” a “yes,” a “god, right there” as he worked.

He took you apart with his mouth, no hesitation as his tongue worked you over, swirling around your clit as a finger began to tease your entrance. It was with a gasp you came, his hand spreading you open with two fingers inside of you, and when you were able to see straight you saw that grin again, his chin wet, his lips red.

“Holy shit, Doc,” you huffed, your hand falling from his hair to his chin, thumb swiping across the mess and bringing it up to your mouth so you could get a taste of yourself. He did you one better, leaning forward to kiss you again, and the taste of him and you made you smile.

“Leonard.”

“Leonard,” you repeated, and when you pulled back his smile was softer. Almost… vulnerable. “Suits you.”

“Well, I hope so,” he laughed. “It is my name.”

“And it’s my turn,” you pointed out, reaching for his waistband. “I think you should move to the chair.”

[kinetic-elaboration]

April 10: 2x14 Wolf in the Fold

Watched Wolf in the Fold last night. The only thing I really remembered about this ep going in was that it was a Scotty ep. Which is true but also… slightly misleading. Also that it had to do with Jack the Ripper—which is more true than I remembered!

A decadent intro… I get why Spock isn’t here but I actually DO think he would be into it.

Matchmaker Kirk lol.

Scotty is so awkward. This is the other detail I remembered from this ep, actually: how Scotty wants to applaud using his hands no matter what. (Even with those cool lights RIGHT THERE lol). Old Aberdeen pub crawler…

This is honestly such a bizarre back story: Scotty got a concussion because someone who happened to be a woman made a mistake and now not only is his head all funny but he has a “total resentment toward women.” Like okay, nothing creepily sexist in that concept. Also –they ultimately barely even use it! I know it’s the implied rationale for why he would suddenly start murdering women and also not remembering it but it’s like such a flimsy excuse that they never say it out loud in so many words for fear it should sound too stupid. Which it would. Honestly, you really only need the concussion imo. Why go into the weird misogyny thing at all?

And now Kirk and Bons head off to a brothel, giving me a total resentment toward men.

Nice eerie fog out here. Very Aberdeenian.

Okay, so this woman was stabbed a dozen times but she only screamed once? And then a second later, Scotty had somehow teleported several feet away, still holding the knife? He’s good at his job but he’s not that good. This is already deeply suspicious.

“Therapeutic shore leave.” Trying to cure his hatred of ladies lmao.

So this weird little bald man, Hengist, from Rigel IV. Is he an alien? I suppose he must be. Rigellians are a race, as we know from Journey to Babel. It’s not always clear to me which groups of people are Earth colonists who have migrated to or been born on other planets and which are humanoid aliens.

The Aurelians are a gentle, harmless people. Cute. I like these aliens.

I wish we could hire aliens to be our administrators. Alien Overlord and Taylor.

“I’ll be taking over, since I am the highest official.” He out-officialed him.

I like this guy and his slightly creepy empath priestess wife. I feel like Spock would like them, too.

Speaking of: Spock in the captain’s chair. Hot.

I don’t get how this planet is the only space port around. Like… could not any planet be a space port? What does that even mean?

Oh no, a woman with the lie detector machine! She must be incompetent and/or to be despised.

I love Sybo’s outfit. Her hair and jewelry too. Honestly just a great head-to-toe look.

Another murder! Sorry but this one is on the Aurelian for just leaving the murder weapon out there unattended.

Generally speaking, the costume and set people are doing allllll the work in this episode.

Hengist went to look for suspects and he came up with the victim’s father and fiancé?? He’s not even trying lol. Anyway, he obviously did it.

How can you NOT tell if a lock was picked or not? I mean I know McCoy is a doctor, not a locksmith, but come on. It can’t be that ambiguous.

Spooky mumbo-jumbo.

Interesting that Spock doesn’t trust the mumbo-jumbo either. I guess he only approves of it when it’s Vulcan.

When Sybo says “monstrous evil” the camera is looking right at Hengist. Not suspicious at all. He’s only clearly railroading Scotty, looked right at the second victim before she was killed, was in the perfect position to take the murder weapon after it was carelessly left about, and is the most obvious non-Scotty suspect here.

I love how loyal Bones is. He literally saw Scotty holding Sybo and the knife with blood on his hands and is like “It’s impossible he could have done it.”

So many of the “truth discovery” devices on TOS are truly creepy. Like they’re all clear plot devices, and for that reason depicted as completely reliable, and the more completely reliable they are, the more deeply disturbing they become upon any reflection at all.

That’s a pretty computer though. All those pretty flashing lights! And it runs on floppy disks.

I literally just remembered what happened.

“Scotty, lie to me, how old are you?” / “Twenty-two, Sir.” Yeah, I’d say that’s a lie.

So like this allegedly all-powerful computer is literally just a lie detector. That’s it! A lie detector that picks up on psychological signs of lying, just like our lie detectors today. I mean… you could have just said that straight out. All they do is show what a person believes to be true, so in the case where someone truly doesn’t remember something, the usefulness is… limited.

My mom suggested a Vulcan mind meld which, actually, would pretty much solve the problem! But for once Spock actually treats it like something serious and not to be thrown out as a solution to all problems at the merest suggestion.

Someone needs to do a fashion line based entirely on the Argellian outfits.

Spock is internally eye-rolling at all this drama. I feel like he’s a real advocate for the computers today. That’s like… really his only role.

The computer’s linguistics banks don’t know what this word means? Maybe we should get Uhura on the case.

Plot twist: the killer was Jack the Ripper the WHOLE TIME! The last one you’d ever expect.

I don’t get how the computer made the leap from Redjac to Jack the Ripper since that is not a real word and no one outside of this episode of TOS has ever used it for Jack the Ripper.

“Everyone feeds on death, even vegetarians.” So dark, Spock. So emo.

Aw, alien creatures that derive sustenance from love. Adorable. There should have been an episode devoted to them. (Wait a minute…. Idea coming on…)

Speaking of gaseous cloud aliens…the Companion?

This episode really relies a lot on the computer to provide information and otherwise move the plot along.

Kirk keeps ignoring everyone to just talk to Spock.

“Cloud the issue” lol that’s a good pun. (Already can’t remember who said it but… point stands.)

The cloud entity feeds on women because they are more easily and deeply terrified. That sounds fake but okay. It’s also not in keeping with what Sybo said, is it? She mentioned a hatred of women. That’s not the same as finding women useful.

Hmm, when do we get our Martian Colonies, @ perseverance?

Oh, Rigel IV, you say? There seems to be a Rigellian right here!

This whole history of the entity is bizarre. The first killing sprees (that we know of) are on Earth, and Kirk specifically says that when man left Earth to explore, he took this with him. Does that mean… the cloud creature/entity originated on Earth? Truly a bizarre hypothesis, when you think about it.

Are you the entity, Sir?

There is actually very little Scotty in this Scotty-centric episode.

Lol the knife originates with the hill people of Rigel IV. What is this, Deliverance?

Omg Kirk punched the entity right out of that man!

So to summarize: “Jack the Ripper is actually a gaseous cloud that is capable of infecting the computer system of the Enterprise, thus hijacking the whole ship” is the basic, wacky concept of this episode.

This tranquilizer could quiet a volcano. Where was it during the volcano scene in STID hmm?

Kirk’s plan to keep people from being scared by the maniacal voice of the entity: Tranquilize the entire ship. That’s why he’s paid the big bucks.

Yet another twist on the old Kirk v. Computer plot. Time to use Math to defeat it.

Kirk is so unimpressed with the entity. “Eh, shut that off.” He would not be moved by a haunted house.

“This is the first time I’ve heard a malfunction threaten us.” Sulu can man his post AND be funny; he’s multi-talented.

Kirk and Spock don’t need tranquilizers because they’re smart enough to know this high-pitched voice yelling random threats just isn’t actually scary.

Kirk is really insistent that Sulu man his frickin’ post!

Oh no, not PI!! My nemesis, PI!

I’m really living for Sulu here.

If the entity entered a tranquilized person, it might take up knitting. I gotta say, that doesn’t make any sense as a plot point but I like it anyway.

That was a very efficient tranquilizing job! Everyone in a 400+ person ship in like 10 minutes? Get the medical team on the Enterprise in charge of the vaccine distribution stat.

Kirk just outright assumes that Spock won’t be a hospitable entity choice. And he’s not even wrong! The entity chooses the dead body over Spock or Kirk. It knows when it’s not wanted.

Hengist has been revived!

The entity is honestly, truly hilarious. Die, die, everybody die! Kill! Kill you all! Maniacal laughter! All while being carried by a still utterly unimpressed Kirk down the halls of the ship.

Spock’s like “get out of the way, you tranquilized idiot. Got some entity-scattering to do.”

“I gave them a pretty big shot, Jim!” Think you might have slightly overdone it, Bones? You didn’t need to make everyone useless for 6 hours for a problem that was solved in 5 minutes!

This is one of those moments, Kirk trying to get Spock to see the pretty ladies with him, when Spock seems super gay. Like, I don’t even think he is, that’s not my reading of him, and I also assume that wasn’t the intention here, but that’s just so clearly how it reads.

Aw, Kirk doesn’t want to go the strip club alone. Poor bb.

Weird how Lt. Leslie was in this when he died in the last episode.

Overall, I’d actually have to say that was a very crack-y episode. I liked the ending the best because it was so ridiculous.

What I don’t understand, in addition to whether or not the entity was really supposed to be from Earth, was how it came to be Hengist. Like, it can enter and leave bodies (or computers) at will, so perhaps it just entered Hengist, a normal Rigellian, at some point. But if that’s so, putting him on the transporter and scattering him into space was a pretty cruel thing to do. Also, why did he die (or appear to die) when the entity wasn’t in him? That implies he is the entity’s physical form. But then, first of all, how is also a Rigellian? Like did the entity mate with a Rigellian? Did the entity take over a baby Rigellian? Did the entity just claim to be Rigellian but is really just humanoid in its physical form—we did establish that some aliens, like this one, or creatures or whatever, are gaseous sometimes and solid others, so maybe its solid form is humanoid. Which would fit well with it originating in Earth, although that also brings a new and perhaps unintentional layer of creepiness to the story. I have to assume that’s the situation, but still, wild. And it doesn’t explain this: why does Hengist “die” when the entity “leaves” him, as opposed to just disappear entirely when the entity changes form??

Anyway, I know I’m overthinking this very wacky premise. Overall, I think the episode was fine. It didn’t have enough Scotty (for being a “Scotty episode”) and it changed genres an awful lot for 50 minutes. There was a tad too much misogyny going on. And overall I didn’t feel like the characters—even Kirk, and in actuality this was a Kirk episode much more than a Scotty episode, and purposefully so—were at their most interesting. Tbh Sulu ultimately stole the show in the final minutes.

Next up is the Trouble with Tribbles! Also a funny episode but at least undeniably purposefully so!