Lean On, McDuff

First Officer’s Personal Log
Stardate: 4940.5

The Enterprise is 48.3 Standard Earth days into our five year mission. Since the time we departed Earth, the crew has begun to coalesce and shown signs of working toward becoming one cohesive unit. While Captain Kirk continues to display unorthodox methods of building this unity, he has shown a remarkable ability to balance the demands of command and yet remain personable. He is at times overly familiar with the crew, not remaining as aloof as is dictated by his position. This seems to be his personality. While those of us who served under now-Admiral Pike were accustom to a more genteel, almost paternal approach, this Captain prefers camaraderie over discipline, informality over a strict adherence to regulations. I put down much of his ebullience to his relative youth.

After patrolling the border of the neutral zone for the past 35.8 days, Starfleet directed us to Starbase Seger for a brief respite. We arrived yesterday at 15:34 ship’s time. After all docking procedures were dispensed with, we rotated off Enterprise onto the station to avail ourselves of some of the food available from the eating establishments, of which there are a multitude.

The Captain, Dr. McCoy, and I, by happenstance, chose the same restaurant and we agreed to sit at the same table, to leave the other tables available for crewmembers who were patiently waiting. The Captain and the Doctor, as is their custom, talked primarily to one another throughout most the wait and the meal, exchanging what Lt. Uhura referenced as good-humored barbs. I find the habit illogical and demeaning to the Captain’s rank. However, as he has never voiced any objection, I kept my observation to myself.

Before we had finished eating, Dr. McCoy was summoned to return to the ship to see to a member of the engineering staff who had suffered burns to his hands and arms. The Captain offered to return with the Doctor, who insisted he remain and finish his meal. The Captain did so, resuming his seat across the table from me.

“Soooo….” the Captain said to me after Dr. McCoy had left. I sensed some nervousness in his demeanor which I found puzzling.

“Yes sir?”

“How’s your…uhm….soup?” he asked, eyeing my bowl with what I knew to be an expression denoting distaste.

“It is quite delicious, sir,” I responded. “And your steak?”

“Perfect,” he said, looking down at it. “Is that a traditional Vulcan dish?” he asked, flinching slightly at the mention of my former home planet. I had noticed that the Humans with whom I interact on a regular basis often have a similar reticence concerning mentioning my home planet, which I understood and was powerless to overcome.

“It is, sir,” I agreed. “Plomeek soup is both enjoyable and filling.”

“Enjoyable?”

“Indeed,” I said. “We are not immune to appreciating well prepared food.”

“I see,” he said, placing his fork on his plate before picking it up again. When the waiter stopped by our table, the Captain requested another draft beer while I declined anything further.

I answered his inquires, engaging in conversation concerning the topics of interest to me. When he began discussing our next assignment, to negotiate a trade agreement with the Parietners, I shared with him all of the information which I had. He asked several pointed, insightful questions, requesting clarification and amplification on four of the facts I provided. It was clear from his discussion of the planet that he had at least read the briefing he had been provided. The other information I had discovered in the research that is a part of my responsibilities as First Officer. I gathered that he was grateful for the additional insight, and seemed surprised that I was as well versed on the planet as I was.

I suppose a Human would say that we lost track of time. I knew the time all the while but as the Captain seemed in no hurry to leave, I was willing to remain so long as he did. When he decided after 2.431 hours to leave the restaurant, he stood from his seat and swayed noticeably, his hip colliding with the edge of the table.

“Captain?” I said, uncertain of the cause for the momentary lapse in his balance.

“I ‘parently had one many too beers,” he said, looking directly at me. I could not fail to notice that his eyes were not as focused as was his norm.

“I see, sir,” I replied. An empty but useful response I had picked up from my Human acquaintances. “Are you able to return to the ship unaided?”

“Uhmm…. I fink so…. If the floor wouldn’t rock quite so much hard.”

“It is stationary, sir,” I said as he swayed once more.

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “Rockin’.”

Rather than argue, I nodded. “I believe you are experiencing the effects of real alcohol after drinking synthahol for several months.”

“Prollaly,” he said. “Why are there two of you?”

“There are not, sir,” I said. I finally conceded to the inevitable and lightly grasped his elbow. “Allow me to assist you, sir.”

“Oh, hot,” the Captain said, looking down at my hand.

“A Vulcan’s mean body temperature is several degrees higher than a Human’s.”

“Seberal? You know don’t precisely exact?”

“I do know, sir. However in your current state it would be meaningless to you,” I said, assisting him in leaving the restaurant.

“Wait,” he protested, leaning against the wall in the hallway. “Wait.”

“I am waiting, sir,” I said.

“I’m not so think as you drunk I am,” he said, looking at me with fiercely blue eyes.

“I would not presume to imply that you are intoxicated, sir,” I replied.

“That’s all righty then,” he said, nodding excessively. “Now, where are my quarters?”

“On the ship, sir.”

“We’re on the ship, sir,” he informed me.

“We are not. We are on the spacestation,” I corrected.

“That’s right. Spacestation Bob,” he said. “No. Silver Bullet. No. Hi Ho Silver. Or…uhm… never mind. You know where we are at, right?”

“I do. And we will continue going this way until we arrive at the Enterprise.”

“Good,” he said with a nod. “Lean on McDuff.”

I did not bother to correct him as I knew it would be pointless. After some maneuvering and some stumbling on his part, we arrived safely at his quarters. He had previously given me the code to his door and we successfully entered. He went straight to his bed and climbed on to lay face down.

“Nighty night,” he said to me, closing his eyes.

“I believe you will want to remove your uniform, sir,” I suggested.

“Nope. Too much trouble. Work. Bother. Oh bother.”

I stood next to his bed in momentary indecision until I realized that Dr. McCoy was well equipped to deal with this circumstance. I contacted him over the intercom, to which he responded immediately.

“Yeah Spock?”

“I am in the Captain’s quarter. I have reason to believe he over-indulged at the restaurant. Would it be convenient for you to come see to his personal needs?”

“He’s drunk off his ass?”

“It would appear so.”

“Fine. I’ll be right there. Wait for me,” he demanded and disconnected before I had the opportunity to respond. It was 6.79 minutes later that the Doctor arrived, frowning down at the Captain.

“Jim!”

“Huh?” Jim mumbled mostly into the pillow cushioning his face.

“Get up. Take off your uniform.”

“Nope. Not going to school today,” was the response.

The Doctor frowned even more though I would not have believed it possible. He sat on the side of the Captain’s bed and reached for the edge of this shirt. “Okay, kid. Raise up just a little.”

The Captain did as instructed and continued to be amenable to the Doctor’s instructions. With skill and efficiency, the Doctor disrobed the Captain and helped him into his bed to lay down properly.

“There,” McCoy said. I noted that his fingers carded through the Captain’s hair and the Captain seemed to sigh at the touch.

“Are there negative repercussions of which we must be cognizant?” I asked.

“Nah. He’ll sleep it off, and except for a headache tomorrow, will be back to his old self,” the Doctor said. His tone was softer, his expression warmer.

“Very well. I will retire to my own quarters.”

“Okay. That’s fine. And Spock,” he said.

I paused prior to allowing the door to open. “Yes Doctor?”

“Thanks.”

I was uncertain why he was thanking me so he amplified.

“He doesn’t overdo very often. Not any longer. If you hadn’t watched out for him, it could have turned out badly,” McCoy said.

I nodded. “It is my responsibility to see to the safety and welfare of the Captain.”

“Okay,” he said, smiling up at me. “Thanks anyway.”

“Good night,” I responded before leaving and returning to my quarters.

No More Down Failin'

First Officer’s Personal Log
Stardate: 4965.4

The Enterprise is 101.87 Standard Earth days into our five year mission.

We just concluded a successful negotiation with the inhabitants of LövVerk, a planet known for its unusually abundant frondescence.

The Captain, Lt. Sulu, Lt. Ayers and I were the initial away-team. Lt. Commander Scott was at the transporter controls as the beam-down was unusual. The LövVerkens are tree dwelling beings, the surface of their planet being nearly uninhabitable. In ages long past, they climbed into the trees and constructed their dwellings among the sturdy limbs of the towering Eucalyptus regnans.

The beam-down location was designated as the structure that the inhabitants referred to as their samlingsplats, their gathering place, at which all important decisions are discussed and voted on by the Elders.

We materialized on the outer most edge of the samlingsplats, on a walkway that connected the structure with the others surrounding it. The Captain was in the forefront of the team and was in the position nearest the railing intended to prevent accidental falls from the platform suspended between the trees.

As is his custom, the Captain glanced at the three other members of the landing party to ensure our safe transport. He then looked down over the railing and his complexion became unnaturally pale.

“Captain,” Lt. Sulu said, automatically grasping the Captain’s arm. They both took one step back away from the edge of the platform, looking at each other with expressions I could only interrupt as trepidation.

“I’m okay,” the Captain said in a voice intended only for the Lieutenant’s ear. He then turned to the leader of the LövVerkens who greeted us.

“You are welcome here among us,” the diminutive being said.

The briefings included the fact that the LövVerkens are no taller than 3 meters and wear no clothing. As they have fur rather than skin as a humanoid would, those of us in the away team did not need to consider personal modesty on the part of the inhabitants. The one who spoke first was designated as their leader by the sash that he wore. It was golden in color and had several decorative emblems attached.

“You honor us,” the Captain responded as instructed by the briefing. The leader, who was called Wiseweed, responded with a bow echoed by the Captain.

“Come,” Wiseweed said, waving an arm toward the samlingsplats. “We will eat. We will talk. We will drink.”

The Captain followed him into the structure which was occupied by ten other LövVerkens, some of whom were female, some male, and some indeterminable. We followed the Captain and sat where directed by Wiseweed.

They were generous with their food and their drink, all of which we consumed in a show of appreciation. To refuse would be perceived as the gravest of insults and we would not allow any misperceptions to occur. It was fortunate that all of the food offered was plant based and I had no reservations in partaking.

The Captain answered their questions about the Federation, explaining why we had followed those who had come before us, how we would like to be friends with LövVerk. The elders gathered were curious, interested, and receptive to our ideas.

As their sun began to descend, the Captain attempted to excuse us and return to the ship. The elders had decided we should remain and would not be dissuaded, no matter the reasons the Captain provided. At the advice of Lt. Ayers, the Captain acquiesced and agreed that we would remain on the planet throughout the night. This pleased them immensely.

We were escorted out of the samlingsplats and guided by a LövVerken called Mapleheel to the platform that connected to the tree in the nearest proximity. When Mapleheel stepped onto the suspended bridge, the Captain took a step backward. I noted that his face was again distributingly pale.

I moved next to him and gained his attention. “Captain?”

“It’s the heights,” he said in a very quiet voice.

“You suffer from acrophobia, sir?” I asked. It was an unusual phobia for someone who chose space exploration as their vocation.

“Not heights. Falling from them. Ever since we fell from the drill,” he explained, glancing over at Sulu.

“Do you suffer as well?” I asked the Lieutenant.

“To a degree. I fell accidentally. He jumped – made the decision,” Lt. Sulu explained.

“They are waiting, sir. What are you going to do?” I asked. The LövVerken wore an expression of unhappiness.

“Just stay close by,” he said to me quietly. I nodded and we both stepped onto the platform. He was momentarily unsteady on his feet but straightened and looked ahead at the next tree. I made certain that I was walking in concert with his steps and we arrived at the second structure without incidence.

“This is the gazthuz for our most revered guests,” he assured us with a broad smile and many bows.

“We are thankful for your hospitality,” the Captain said, bowing with Mapleheel.

“You will sleep. At the rising of the sun, we will gather. We will eat. We will talk,” Mapleheel said with great enthusiasm.

“We are looking forward to eating and talking,” the Captain said, bowing again.

After making certain we had all that we needed, Mapleheel left and the Captain backed up until he was leaning against the tree in the center of the structure.

“Oh dear lord,” he said quietly to no one specifically.

“You going to be okay?” Lt. Sulu asked him. I noted the tone of concern coloring the Lieutenant’s voice.

“I don’t have a whole lot of choice, do I, Hikaru?” the Captain replied with an unnatural smile. “The Federation wants us to make friends. We’ll make friends.”

“They are amendable to our overtures of friendship,” Lt. Ayers assured him.

“That’s a win at least. I sure don’t want to spend all this time in trees for nothing,” he said. He laughed which sounded forced even to my ears.

“Is Dr. McCoy aware of your aversion to heights, sir?” I asked the Captain. The other two turned to look at me and I felt as though I had said something to which they objected.

“He can’t help it,” Lt. Sulu said quickly, a frown on his face.

“It’s okay, Hikaru. It’s a natural question,” the Captain said to him, laying a hand on his arm. “Bones does know. I can handle it until we beam back up.”

“I had not intended to state that I doubted your ability to fulfill your duty, sir,” I said in explanation.

“I know,” the Captain said with a nod. “I never had a problem with acrophobia until the drill. I’ll get over. Once I don’t have any more nightmares about it.”

“Yeah, they are the worst,” Lt. Sulu agreed, climbing up into a hammock suspended from one of the supporting limbs.

“How is it?” Lt. Ayers asked Lt. Sulu when he lay down.

“Comfortable,” he replied, wrapping the provided coverings around him. “You want the lower?”

“Sure,” she agreed, getting into the one beneath him. “Not bad.”

“Sir?” I said when the Captain and I stood side by side next to the other hammocks. “Do you want me to take the topmost hammock?”

“Do you mind?” he asked.

“Not in the least, sir,” I assured him, climbing up into it. As Lt. Sulu had indicated, it was as comfortable as could be expected.

“Here,” the Captain said, holding out one of the blankets to me.

“Will you not need it, sir?” I asked, already beginning to feel the chill that came with the disappearing sun.

“I won’t need them both,” he assured me. “You need it a lot more than I do.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said as I accepted it. I was uncertain that he would be warm enough but he seemed to have no such reservations and I was grateful for additional warmth the blanket provided.

“Commander?” Lt. Sulu said from his hammock.

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“Do you want one of my blankets?” he offered.

“That will not be necessary. These will be sufficient.”

“Okay,” the Lieutenant said. I could see him glance at the Captain but could not determine the meaning of the expression on his face.

I detected the Humans falling asleep fairly quickly after they were settled. I meditated until my thoughts were sufficiently calmed for sleep to come.

We awoke the next morning to Mapleheel wishing us happy day and inviting us to breakfast.

“Thank you,” the Captain said as he extracted himself from his hammock. “We will be there momentarily.”

Mapleheel nodded and left us. The three Humans stretched and scrubbed their hands through their hair which did nothing to restore order.

“What I wouldn’t give for a toothbrush,” the Captain said, laughing.

“Yeah. Next time we need to pack a bag,” Lt. Sulu added.

“Definitely,” Lt. Ayers said. “With clean clothes.”

“They’ll probably decide during breakfast, don’t you think?” the Captain asked her.

“That’s what the reports indicate. Breakfast is their main meal. Most important decision are made then,” Lt. Ayers said.

“We’ll have to eat more than we did last night?” Lt. Sulu asked.

“We will,” Lt. Ayers said. “Eat and drink as much as you can. It’s an insult to refuse.”

We all said that we would comply to the best our ability. The Captain approached the suspended bridge, not looking down at it. I stood next to him, matching my steps with his as we crossed. I could feel the tension in his body until we arrived at the samlingsplats. He greeted the elders with a smile and the customary words before we all sat at the tables, every inch of which was covered with food.

There were eight more LövVerkens present at breakfast than had been the evening before. They were all intensely curious, asking multiple questions, often the same inquiry multiple times. The Captain responded each time patiently and expanding on his answers when further questioned. He showed more diplomatic skill than I had previously anticipated and the LövVerkens were impressed by all that he said.

When the meal was entering its third hour, the Captain’s words began to slow down and there was a nearly undetectable slur to them.

“Commander,” Lt. Sulu said to me quietly.

“Yes Lieutenant,” I responded, looking over at him with my undivided attention.

“This red stuff,” the Lieutenant said, indicating his cup that was half full. “I think it’s alcoholic.”

I accepted his cup, cautiously taking a taste. It contained a high level of alcohol although it was heavily disguised by the fruit pulp that was its base.

“The Captain’s had six cups,” Lt. Ayers said. Her voice betrayed some agitation.

“Great,” Lt. Sulu said.

“Sure you can come on over to Earth any ole time,” the Captain was saying when I refocused my attention on him. He was waving his hand, as though attempting to show them the general direction in which his home planet was located. “Take, oh, I don’t know, three or four weeks at warve fipe. Right, Spock? Three, four, maybe five six weeks?”

“It will take 34.23 days at warp five, sir,” I said.

“Yeah. Yeah. That’s right. Spock knows. Spock always knows. He’s bery bery smart,” the Captain told the LövVerkens, tapping his head in demonstration.

“Sir, I would recommend, with the LövVerkens’ permission, that we return to the ship,” I said.

“What’s your hurry there, Spock? Got a plane to catch. Noooo… a starship,” the Captain said, laughing at his own perceived cleverness. “My ship’s going nowhere without me. Us. You. You know. They’re goin’ stay right put till we get back up on board. Scotty’ll make sure. And if they go and leave us, Bones’ll be hoppin mad. He’ll curse a black and blue streak like you haven’t never heard. Make your hair curl. Well, maybe not so much yours. And Marjorie’s is already.”

They appeared to be amused by the Captain’s speech and nodded encouragingly. “Lieutenant?” I asked Ayers.

“I don’t know, sir. They certainly don’t seem offended,” she said.

“I believe that our Captain has enjoyed too much of your delicious körsbär,” I said to the elders.

“He is very happy with us,” Wiseweed said cheerfully, reaching over to give the Captain even more körsbär before I could intervene.

The Captain picked up his cup and saluted those gathered. “I don’t know what’s this is in here but it is some awesome goodly stuff. Prime. You got this in a go-to box we would likely be taking up with us when we go up? Up to our ship. Not down. Down over the railings that are way up too highly. Too too up far. Makes me feel down falling. Down falling isn’t not good. Scary.” He stopped talking long enough to drink from his cup, hiccupping when he had finished it all. After licking his lips, he used his shirt sleeve to wipe the rest of the moisture from his mouth.

“More körsbär?” Wiseweed offered happily.

“That would not be prudent,” I said, standing.

“Don’t be a poopy parter,” the Captain protested, his words even more slurred. “They are bein’ soooo nichely kind. Friendish. We ought need to be so nichely too. You can be nichely when you try,” he said to me, squinting up at me.

“I would like to be nice, sir. But I am concerned for your welfare.”

“My fare is quite well, thank you so bery muchly. Sit. Relax. Drinks. Eating.”

“You may be quite well but I fear Lt. Sulu has taken ill,” I tried. I loathed the idea of lying but the Captain was going to make a mistake eventually and if telling an untruth could prevent an error, it was worth the prevarication.

“What? What’s that you say ‘Pock? Karu’s sick?” the Captain asked, turning to try and focus on the Lieutenant who was doing an admirable job of coughing. “What’s it Karu?”

“I don’t know, sir. It just came on all of the sudden,” the Lieutenant said, coughing again.

“Oh dear no me. We’ve got to be going up now. So so sorry we’ve got to be going up now. Your planet’s pretty. We’ll be friends forever?”

Wiseweed laughed and nodded, looking up at me. “When he’s well, come back.”

“We most certainly will,” I agreed, helping the Captain stand and move to the edge of the bridge.

“Oh no no no, Pock. Too up high,” he said, turning from the edge.

“We will be beamed up in a few minutes, sir,” I assured him. Lt. Sulu moved to his other side, Lt. Ayers standing in front of him to block his view of the empty space.

“It’s okay, Jim,” Sulu said quietly. “We’re right here.”

“You’re already better already?” he asked Sulu, his eyes barely focusing.

“A little,” Sulu said, remembering to cough.

“Oh dear dear dear,” the Captain said, looking over at me. “Tell them I told they better be up hurrying cause Karu’s sick here down. We need upping right away now.”

“They know, sir,” I assured him, contacting Lt. Scott again.

“Another minute, sir,” he said. “We need to make sure we filter all out the foliage.”

“That Cotty?” the Captain asked, reaching for my communicator. “Hiya Cotty. You goin’ up beam us soonly? Cause Karu’s sick and needs upping beam.”

“Momentarily, sir,” Scott responded.

“Please ask Dr. McCoy to meet us in the transporter room,” I requested.

“Certainly, sir,” Scott agreed.

“Yeah yeah,” the Captain said in approval. “Bones’ll make Karu all better like magical. Hope there’s no hypoprays. He lurves pokin me with ‘em. All the time. Pokin pokin pokin. Why’s he doin that to me, Pock? He do it ta you too?”

“Not with any frequency,” I said, relieved when the familiar sensation of the transporter caught us in its beam.

“Fallin fallin,” the Captain said, holding tightly to my arm and closing his eyes.

“We are not falling, Captain. We are back aboard the Enterprise,” I assured him, carefully helping him down the steps.

“Fallin” he repeated, shaking his head.

“You aren’t falling, you infant. Your drunk off your ass,” Dr. McCoy scolded him.

“Oh no. Bones iz in my head, Pock. Yellin.”

“I am not in your head. I’m right here,” Dr. McCoy said, placing his hand gently on the Captain’s shoulder.

“Bones?” the Captain said, barely opening one eye. “What cha doin on the planet? Did ya see the real bigly huge trees they got down here?”

“We’re not on the planet, Jim. We’re on the Enterprise,” McCoy said with surprising patience, his earlier irritation gone now that he fully understood the situation. “We need to get you to your quarters.”

“I’m not so think as you drunk I am,” he told the Doctor in utter sincerity.

“I know you’re not, Jim. Let’s get you to your quarters.”

“I kay. See bout Karu. He was coughin wicked. Hackin up a lung. Or two.”

“Hikaru has already left for sickbay,” McCoy told the Captain. “He’ll be just fine. You don’t need to worry about him.”

“He’ll be just fine?”

“Yes, Jim, as good as new. Come on,” McCoy coaxed.

“Pock needs to coming wif us. He’ll stop the down falling.”

“You are not going…”

“Of course he’ll come,” the Doctor interrupted to say, frowning at me. “He’s coming to your quarters too.”

“To stopping the down fall. He’ll keep it all upping not downing.”

“Absolutely,” McCoy assured the Captain.

“Pock?” the Captain asked, looking over his shoulder to locate me.

“Yes sir?”

“Don’t go way. You stopping downing.”

“I will stop you from falling,” I assured him, taking hold of his free arm. That seemed to steady him and we got him to his quarters with no further interruptions.

Once inside, Dr. McCoy efficiently undressed him and helped him stretch out on his bed, covering him securely.

“Iffn Pock needs my blankets you’ll give em to im, kay? Don’t wan im bein cold. Ask im, kay Bones?” the Captain said into his pillows.

“He’s fine, Jim. He has plenty of his own blankets.”

“He not cold?”

“I am not cold, Captain. I am quite comfortable,” I assured him.

“Pock!” he said in surprise, managing to open one eye to look up at me. “You’re aren’t mad, right?”

“Why would I be angry, sir?” I asked.

“Don’t know. Cause I don like down fallin’.”

“It is understandable,” I replied. Dr. McCoy stood up and gestured me to take his place. Somewhat reluctantly, I sat on the edge of the Captain’s bed and placed one hand on his back. “You are not going to fall. We are both safe and warm. You only need to sleep.”

“Mmmm….seepy,” he agreed, rubbing his cheek on his pillow. “Karu all okay?”

“Hikaru is as good as new,” I told him.

“Good. So I can go nighty night.”

“You should,” I said. “It is what you need.”

“Kay. Tell Bones fanks. He’s always nice to me cept when he’s pokin me in my neck. Ow.”

“The Doctor will not be administering any hyposprays. It is safe for you to sleep.”

“Kay,” he repeated with a sigh and was soon asleep. I slowly stood but as soon as I broke contact, he shifted restlessly.

“Do you mind saying?” Dr. McCoy asked quietly. He had returned to the Captain’s bedside after tidying the quarters of littered clothes. “He’ll sleep better with you here.”

“I have nothing pressing which must be done. We will return to the planet when he is feeling better.”

“Thanks,” McCoy said. “You’ll let me know as soon as he wakes.”

“Of course,” I agreed, watching the Doctor leave before returning my gaze to the peacefully sleeping Captain.

New Happy Year!!!

First Officer’s Personal Log
Stardate: 4999.3

The Enterprise is 179.33 Standard Earth days into our five year mission. Today is the traditional Earth day of New Year’s. Although the changing of the calendar has little meaning in space, the Captain agreed to the idea of celebrating New Year’s Eve with a party in Recreation Room 6. The festivities were planned through the joint efforts of Lt. Uhura, Nurse Chapel, Lt. Sulu, Ensign Chekov, and inexplicably, Dr. McCoy.

The Captain made the shipwide announcement, including the invitation that the crew wear casual clothing to the party. Appropriate decorum was requested but uniforms were not required.

The party was scheduled to begin at 19:30 and was to include food for the crew to enjoy as their evening repast. I was occupied in the science labs at the given hour and would have remained until the completion of the last experiment had the Captain not arrived to ask that I accompany him to the festivities. He was already attired in crisp black trousers and a starched white shirt neatly tucked in.

“Hey,” he said in typical greeting when he arrived at the lab door at 20:42.

“Captain,” I returned, straightening to talk to him.

“The party’s already started. Let’s go get you changed so you can come,” he said, smiling at me. It was the smile that I had witnessed him give to others, one that generally made certain he was provided what he had requested.

“I prefer to remain in the labs, sir,” I responded. My expectation that he would return alone to the festivities proved in vain.

“No way,” he said, still smiling. “You have to come. New Year’s Eve. The crew in casual clothes. You have to come see what Nyota and Christine are wearing,” he said, his voice lowering to intimate confidentiality.

“Their chosen apparel is of no interest to me.”

“That’s because you haven’t seen it,” he said, laughing. I could not fail to notice that the laughter made his eyes appear a deeper blue which I knew to be only a trick of the lighting. “Come on. At least put in an appearance. It’s good for morale.”

“Theirs,” I said, admittedly because I knew it would cause him to laugh again.

“You’ll have a good time. I promise. Your experiment can wait until morning.”

“Yes,” I conceded. I proceeded to shut down the equipment and he accompanied me back to my quarters. “I will come shortly if you wish to return to the party.”

“Nah,” he said, leaning against the edge of my desk, one hand in his pocket. “I’ll wait for you. It’s the only way I can be sure you’ll come.”

I nodded and went into the sleeping section of my quarters where I took off my uniform in exchange of black pants and a black top. When I rounded the divider, I thought I noted some additional color to his cheeks but I did not comment. “It surprises me that Dr. McCoy agreed to assist in the planning,” I said as we left my quarters.

“He said he’d help if it meant we could have real alcohol. I said that was fine. Since we’re on light patrol anyway. If we’re a little hung-over tomorrow, it’ll be fine.”

“Indeed,” I responded, entering the Recreation Room with him. It had been transformed for the celebration. The lights were dim and there were candles on all of the tables. The area before the windows was left clear for dancing. The customarily bare windows were draped with black velvet material, pulled back to still reveal the stars but creating a softening effect. The room had a glow about it that was welcoming and soothing for all the buzz of the party-goers.

“This is quite lovely,” I told the Captain. Fortunately the music was not at a decibel that would damage the hearing of any of the crew so conversation was possible.

“They did a good job,” the Captain agreed, leading me over to a table that had a “reserved” placard in the center. Already there were most members of the Command crew, all of whom greeted me upon arrival.

Nyota gave me a glass of champagne and a very light kiss on the cheek. I sat between the Captain and Ensign Chekov who was engaged in conversation with Lt. Sulu. Across the table was Dr. McCoy listening to Chief Scott.

“Vould you like something to eat?” Ensign Chekov asked me when he and Sulu were standing.

“Yes, please,” I agreed.

“I vill choose. You vill not be disappointed,” he promised me before he left, talking with Sulu and using his hands to make his points.

“You’ll only be disappointed if he forgets to come back,” the Captain said, laughing.

“Indeed. The odds are good that I will need to visit the buffet myself,” I agreed.

“You need more champagne,” the Doctor insisted, refilling my glass and the Captain’s.

“The decorations are appropriate and appealing,” I told the Doctor when he was sitting back across from us. “I was surprised to learn that you had assisted in the preparations.”

He shrugged. “You know. May as well let these over-grown teenagers have a good time.”

“You are having a good time and you know it,” the Captain said, receiving a frown in response.

“Not that I’m planning to admit to you,” he said before turning his attention to Nyota. “I’d love to dance, darlin’. Thanks for asking.” He took her hand and they went to the dance floor, soon absorbed into the small crowd already there.

“Is there a romance developing between them?” I asked the Captain because he would know if anyone did.

“Could be. I think he’s still a little gun shy. But she’d be good for him. You wouldn’t mind, would you?” he asked me.

“I would be glad for Nyota to find happiness,” I assured him. “We remain close friends even though our romance is no longer.”

“What happened between you two?” he asked as he sipped his champagne.

“A mutual parting. We love each other still. Not in the way that is required to sustain a permanent relationship.”

“I get that,” the Captain said with a nod. “So you were in love with her?”

“I was. And she with me.”

“I guess I thought you wouldn’t admit to being in love,” he said with a degree of uncertainty.

“While love is not generally acknowledged by most Vulcans, I believe it is to our collective benefit to admit it and to revere those relationships. Like the one that my father and mother had.”

“I do too,” Jim said with a nod. He chatted amiably with the crew who stopped by, accepting a plate from Sulu that was piled high with all of his favorites. Chekov provided me with a plate of those items I especially enjoy eating and they resumed their seats and their animated conversation. They seemed to be discussing the relative merits of one salad dressing over another, Pavel insisting that only blue cheese was acceptable while Hikaru voiced a strong opinion that the one called Ranch was the only true salad dressing.

“Do you have an opinion, sir?” Pavel asked me between bites of his baklava.

“Not on the relative merits of salad dressing, no,” I said. Pavel and Hikaru nodded at that. Dr. McCoy had returned and opined that I had an opinion on plenty of other subjects so it was just as well I left off salad dressings.

“What’s your favorite?” Sulu asked the Doctor.

“Mmm…balsamic vinegar,” he said.

“That’s not a traditional Southern dressing, is it, Bones?” Jim asked him.

“No. And if you’re talkin tomato sandwiches, got to be mayonnaise on white bread. None of that healthy stuff with ‘mater sandwiches still warm from the vine.”

“You grow tomato sandwiches?” Nyota asked McCoy, making him laugh.

“Sure do, little miss. Maybe I’ll take you to Georgia one day and show you.”

“I’d like that,” she agreed, smiling at him, her entire face radiant.

I traded a glance with Jim who was all smiles at their obvious happiness.

The evening progressed in much the same fashion, the crew dancing and talking, eating and enjoying the time to socialize. Despite my efforts to refuse, three times I was persuaded to dance in what were described as “line-dances.” These have proscribed steps and we were provided with a recording of how to do them, following the actions of those on the screen ensuring most of us were successful. Several of the crew seem uncertain as to which direction is right and which is left but as it is of no real consequence, I did not bother to point it out to the Captain. Had I done so, I feel certain that he would reply that so long as Chekov and Sulu know their right from their left, the others can remain uncertain.

The dancing, while regimented and somewhat childish, proved to be quite enjoyable. I was standing next to the Captain each time we began. With the progression of the steps, we would turn so that I would be behind him one quarter of the time. His natural rhythm and fluidity makes him an accomplished dancer. This fact did not surprise me and I look forward to future events at which I can study his technique.

Nyota coaxed me into dancing with her alone. She too is an exceptional dancer, and the Captain had been correct in his assessment about her attire. The dark blue dress she wore sparkled as she moved, and the opening up the side revealed her left leg in a teasing manner. I was conscious of Dr. McCoy watching as we danced, an awareness she shared.

“I really really like him,” she confided to me as we danced.

“I am glad for you both,” I told her.

“You won’t be mad if we really start to date?”

“I only want happiness for you, Nyota. I have no right to disapprove if you enter a relationship with Leonard.”

“I know,” she said, resting her head on my chest in a familiar manner. “But it could be awkward. You know, never date your friend’s ex.”

“You are referring to Leonard as my friend?” I asked her.

“Of course. You may fight all the time, but I know the truth. Inside you really are friends.”

I considered her words for a moment before nodding. “We are friends,” I decided.

“I know you are. You just don’t want to admit it.”

“I would appreciate it if you did not tell him that I have,” I said, earning a bright smile from her.

“Your secret is safe with me. But he knows it already. And it’s not just because of Jim either.”

“Because of Jim?” I repeated.

“You’ll figure it out, sugar. It’ll just take a little while,” she said with an air of mystery. As the song ended at that moment, I made no further comment, escorting her back to the table and to the chair beside Leonard.

The Captain was in the middle of talking to Christine Chapel who was paying rapt attention to every word that he said. I could not make out the topic of conversation and was content to talk with Scotty about the upgrades that Starfleet had recommended, upgrades he said he had implemented weeks ago. I did not doubt the veracity of his statement and recommended that he ask the Captain sign the orders when enough time had elapsed to have effected the upgrades.

“Capital idea, Commander. That’s just what I’ll do,” Scotty agreed, refilling all of the champagne flutes that had been emptied. Dr. McCoy attempted to stop Scotty from refilling Jim’s glass, but the Captain swatted away his hand so that Scotty could provide him the champagne.

“It’s a party, Bones. Where’s the harm in one more glass?” Jim asked, saluting Leonard with his flute.

“You’re going to be sorry tomorrow. And don’t come crying to me for a hangover hypo,” Leonard warned.

“I’m off tomorrow. I can sleep until I wake up,” Jim told Leonard. Leonard’s only response was a snort and an agreement to dance with Nyota.

“You two were awfully cozy while you were cutting up the rug,” Jim said when there was a pause in all other conversations.

“We were simply dancing,” I responded.

“Yeah. There’s dancin’. Then there’s dancin’. Y’all seemed to be doing the second kind.”

“I am sure I do not know what you mean, sir,” I told him, making him laugh.

“Refill my glass while Bones is dancin’,” he said, giving me his flute. I thought to protest then decided that it was not my place to decide for him when enough was enough.

At five minutes to midnight, Hikaru made the announcement and many of the party goes donned hats and tiaras. It was quite a festive sight although I was confused when the Captain opted for a tiara rather than a hat. Leonard shook his head and the Captain made his way to the microphone.

“Four minutes,” he announced, looking up at the shining ball suspended from the ceiling. “Everybody’s got libations?” He continued to announce the minutes until it reached 59 seconds to the hour. Many began counting down at 59 while some waited until the numbers reached 10. At exactly midnight, more corks were removed from champagne bottles, streamers and balloons descended from the netting close to the ceiling, and most everyone cheered.

“Happy New Year,” Nyota said to me, kissing me, her cheeks flushed.

“And to you,” I responded with a nod. The merriment and good wishes lasted for a seemingly excessive amount of time and although I attempted to avoid the tradition, I was the recipient of 14 kisses.

“Look at you, you hottie,” Jim said when he threaded his way through the crowd to me.

“I am no warmer than normal,” I assured him.

“No no. Lipstick,” he said, using his napkin in a failed attempt to erase the imprint of the kisses. “Not coming off. Why’d it come off their lips then?”

“An excellent question,” I agreed, going with him back to the table to resume our seats. “You have an impressive collection of colors.”

Jim shrugged, sipping his champagne. “Where’d Nones and Byota go?”

“I believe they are dancing,” I said, looking over at the dance floor where they were in fact engaged in a dance of a romantic nature.

“Mmm….nice,” he said, his cheek resting on his palm, his elbow in danger of falling off the edge of the table.

“She is happy,” I said.

“Good for her. Them. Happy is good. Not happy is ungood.”

“Indeed,” I agreed.

“Indeed,” he repeated with a nod. “You wanna dance?”

“Not at this time,” I said. I was uncertain if he was asking me to dance with him or if it was general inquiry. I felt not asking for clarification was probably in the best interest of us both. “I had thought when you permitted casual clothing that you would have worn jeans.”

“I was goin’. Then I didn.”

“What made you change your mind?” I asked.

He put one finger over his lips and said “Shhh….it’s a secret.”

“Very well,” I said.

He indicated that I should lean closer and I reluctantly complied. “Bones. Said you’d like these pants more’n my jeans,” he whispered to me.

“Dr. McCoy recommended you dress in slacks for me?” I asked, not sure he would understand the question.

“Yep,” he said with a nod. “Said Spock would preciate ‘em. Do you? Preciate em?” he asked sincerely.

“Certainly,” I said, hoping that was a safe answer.

“Good. We won’t tell Bones. He’ll get all puffy.”

“Puffed up?”

“Yeah,” he agreed with excessive nodding. “Like a pompinjay. What’s a pompinjay anyways?”

“It is a colloquium for a person overly self-enamored,” I said.

“Kay. You aren’t one. Of those. Coke-quizzms.”

“Thank you,” I responded.

“Some fink I am. Oberly self-mannered. I not. Not truly,” he assured me.

“You are not. Those who believe so are mistaken.”

“Yep. Miss Taken. All of em. You don’t fink so. Right? You don’t fink I’m a coke-quizzm.”

“I do not,” I said. “I do think that it may be time for your to retire.”

“Retire?” he said in surprise. “I’m hardly not enough old to stop Captainin’.”

“For the evening,” I amended.

“What bout the ebnin?” he asked trying to focus on me.

“I think that I should escort you back to your quarters,” I tried.

“Nopers. Party’s just getting startin up good. We’ll be more dancin. You’re a fine finely dancer. You know that, Pock?”

“You are as well,” I said, looking over at where Dr. McCoy was talking to Nyota. They were unaware of their surroundings which was understandable but an inconvenience. “Pavel,” I said when he happened by.

“Yes sir?”

“Would you tell Dr. McCoy I would like to have a word with him?”

“Right avay sir,” he said with his usual enthusiasm and hurried off to deliver the message.

“What cha want Bones for, Pock? You feelin’ illy?” Jim asked me.

“I am fine, Jim. I simply wish to speak with the Doctor.”

“You’re aren’t goin clobber im, are ya? Cause you broke off with Nota. He got dibs, right?”

“I am not going to strike the Doctor,” I told him, looking up at Leonard and Nyota when they arrived. “He has over imbibed.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Leonard said. “Will you wait here? I’ll be back as soon as I have this infant in bed.”

“Of course,” Nyota agreed, kissing him lightly before going over to talk with one of her friends.

“Can’t have infants on board ship,” Jim informed Leonard. “Gainst regs. Tell em. Pock. Tell em the regs it’s not allowed up under.”

“You’re the only infant on board,” Leonard told him, hauling the Captain to his feet. “Cone on.”

“Wait. Wait on just a minutes. Party still partyin’. Why you draggin me off?” he demanded, fists almost on his hips.

“Because you have had too much to drink. Which I warned you not to do. You don’t want to be drunk and disorderly in front of your crew, do you?” Leonard asked in a stern voice.

“Drunkly? Deorder? Me?”

“Yes you. Not very Captainly of you,” Leonard said.

“Oh. Pike be mad?”

“Yes, Admiral Pike would be mad,” Leonard agreed. “Do you want me to have to call and tell him?”

“Shhh…” Jim said, shaking his head. The movement caused him to momentarily stumble, colliding with me. “Sorry. Pock.”

“It is quite all right,” I said, helping him right himself.

“There’s no any need for you to draggin’ Chris along with this. It’s goin be our little secret. Right? Kay?”

“If you come with us, we won’t have to tell Pike,” Leonard said.

“I’ll comin. You won’t callin.”

“I won’t call,” Leonard promised, escorting the Captain out of the recreation room.

“Pock? Where’s Pock?” the Captain asked, looking over his shoulder for me. “He go callin?”

“I am right here, Jim,” I said, grasping his right elbow. Leonard already had a firm hold on Jim’s left elbow.

“Oh. Hey Pock. Bones’ says I’m too much drinkin’. You too much drinkin too?”

“I did not drink any champagne.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right right. Bulcans don’ wan alkihaul.”

“Alcohol has no effect on a Vulcan,” I clarified.

“Oh. Yeah. Right right. Are we warpin?”

“We are not at warp,” I responded.

“Then what’s it makin the ship go woosh woosh?”

“It’s not the ship. It’s your brain that’s going woosh woosh,” Leonard told him in a more gentle tone. I could hear the barely disguised laughter in his voice.

“My brain’s wooshing wooshing?”

“Yeah. It’ll stop when we get you to your quarters.”

“I oughda have a dollar,” he said, laughing at his perceived cleverness. “Get it? Dollars more than quarters.”

“We get it. It’s just not funny,” Leonard said.

“Is too so. You’re jealous cause I’m funnier than you.”

“Sure,” Leonard agreed, opening the Captain’s door. “Let’s get you undressed.”

“No no,” Jim said, shaking his head and backing away. “Not physical time again already so soonly. No no. Just did it. Pokin. Prodin. No no.”

“He did not mean to imply that it is time for your physical, Jim,” I said. “You need to undress so you can go to bed.”

“Not pokin time?”

“It is not,” I said, gently escorting him to his sleeping area. “Admiral Pike said that all Captains are to be in bed asleep by 1:00 a.m.”

“What’s it time now?” Jim asked, looking up at me from where he sat on the edge of his bed.

“It is nearly 1. I do not wish to report to him that you failed to comply with his directive.”

“No no. No failin,” Jim said, laying down and closing his eyes. “See. Complyin. Doin’ it. See?”

“I do see. I believe that you will be allowed a grace period in order to put on your pajamas.”

“You surely certain? I don wan Chris yellin. I don like Chris yellin,” he explained, opening one eye to look up at me.

“I am certain that you have the grace period. I will retrieve your pajamas while you continue to undress.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right right,” he said, sitting up enough to pull off his shirt. He then kicked off his shoes and shimmed out of his trousers.

Leonard smiled at me when I had the Captain’s pajamas. “I can’t believe you lied to him.”

“It was an effective method of ensuring he did what was necessary.”

“You still lied.”

I could only shrug at that, looking over at the Captain who seemed to be asleep already. “I will remain so that you may return to the party.”

“I know it’s no hardship on you,” Leonard laughed. “Let me know if you need me.”

“You can be certain that I will,” I said, walking with him to the door.

“Pock?”

“Yes, Jim. I am right here,” I assured him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You’re aren’t mad. Right?”

“I am not. I have no reason to be,” I said, my hand in the middle of his back.

“Kay. Good. Kay. And nobody’s tellin Pike, right right?”

“No one is telling the Admiral.”

“Kay. Good. Good,” he said, sighing. “New Happy Year, Pock.”

“New Happy Year to you as well, Jim,” I said. I am uncertain that he heard as he had already fallen to sleep.

Bootiful...Like Green M&M&Ms

First Officer’s Personal Log
Stardate: 5013.2

The Enterprise is 272.22 Standard Earth days into our five year mission. Yesterday brought our first mission failure and a personal revelation.

No one is to blame for the failure to secure a signed treaty. No one except the residents of the planet Galcyla.

Starfleet had sent a complete mission briefing that included details about the governing body and the usual directives concerning the method in which the negotiations should be conducted.

The Captain, as is his custom, studied all of the briefings, discussing their content and the recommended approaches with the away team, which was comprised of the Captain, Lt. Sulu, Lt. Uhura, and myself. Starfleet recommended four officers beam down so that the Galcylans would fully comprehend the sincerity of our intent to negotiate but not be overwhelmed by our numbers.

Lt. Uhura studied in great detail their social customs and found nothing out of the ordinary to report. They were a race who took themselves very seriously, and the Captain was cautioned that his usual attempts at humor would need to be eliminated. Lt. Uhura reported that they were Humanoid in appearance, their average height mirroring that of Humans.

Feeling well prepared for the mission, we beamed down to be greeted by GaLisas, who identified himself as First Protectorate. GaLisas wore a floor-length black robe with gold edging, the high collar nearly obscuring his white face which was in stark contrast to his attire. His hair was also white and seemed to defy the gravity of the planet, standing up to add 21.6 cm to his height.

Those with him also wore black robes although they were unadorned. Their collars encircled their necks, the collars stopping just below their jaws. Lt. Uhura had reported that their collars were an indicator of social rank – the higher the collar stood, the higher their place in government and/or society.

The five ministers accompanying GaLisas had similar white complexions and hair that also defied gravity albeit to a lesser degree.

GaLisas greeted Captain Kirk with a small bow, which the Captain gracefully echoed. “Captain,” GaLisas said, looking only at him.

“First Protectorate,” the Captain responded, adding the other statements demanded by protocol. When the Captain turned to introduce those of us included in the landing party, GaLisas turned and strode toward the table where he indicted that the Captain should sit. We sat on the same side as the Captain, the Galcylans on the opposite side, all studying the Captain intently.

The Captain was offered drink and food, which he would have declined but knew to do so would be taken as an offense. We were offered no refreshment.

GaLisas asked the Captain the questions we often are asked when beginning a negotiation of this sort. The Captain answered with diplomacy and ease, assuring the First Protectorate that membership in the Federation would be beneficial to their planet and to the others already members. It would not mean a surrendering of sovereignty, only a strengthening through numbers.

The Galcylans were attentive to the Captain, asking relevant and appropriate questions. When they inquired about the possibility of having access to our language data banks, the Captain requested that Lt. Uhura respond, as this was her area of expertise.

“I was not addressing my question to any but you, Captain,” GaLisas told the Captain, abruptly interrupting the Lieutenant.

“I apologize, First Protectorate,” the Captain said. “She is much more knowledgeable in this area than I.”

GaLisas’ expression hardened and he barely glanced at the Lieutenant. “If you are unable to respond, we will ask again when you are better informed.”

The Captain looked as though they had struck him but he answered evenly. “Very well. I will research the information and provide it to you.”

“What of your botany, Captain?” one of the ministers asked. “Our harvests have been diminishing. We theorize that an influx of viable crops will help maintain our self-sufficiency.”

“Lt. Sulu?” the Captain said.

“You do not know, Captain?” GaLisas asked, staring at the Captain.

“I am not a botanist,” the Captain said, never breaking eye contact with GaLisas.

GaLisas looked at his ministers, all of whom were frowning. “You seem particularly ill-informed.”

The Captain looked over at me, uncertain what the appropriate response would be. When I began to explain that he in fact was very well informed and surrounded by officers even better prepared to discuss their needs, GaLisas likewise interrupted me.

“I was not addressing you nor am I interested in your postulations,” he said to me in clear dismissal.

The Captain stared at GaLisas and I could see the color creeping up his face. I had seen this reaction only three times before. None of those situations ended particularly well for the other parties. “You will not speak to my First Officer nor any of my officers in that manner,” the Captain finally said in a very even tone.

“You are in no position to dictate our actions, Captain,” GaLisas returned.

“I am in a position to leave and recommend that Starfleet never come near your planet again,” the Captain pointed out.

“I will not be admonished by you, Captain. Not when you allow your crew to be vitiated.”

“Vitiated? In what way have I allowed my crew to be debased, sir? We are the finest in all of Starfleet,” the Captain said, some of his understandable indignation coming through.

“Yours is the finest crew?” he asked in disbelief, glancing in dismissal at me, Lt. Sulu and Lt. Uhura.

“We are. Your contempt is entirely unreasonable,” the Captain told him as he became increasingly less diplomatic.

“I do not comprehend how you can claim that your crew is the finest when they include misshapen eyes, overly-browned skin, and atrociously pointed ears and slanted eyebrows,” the First Protectorate said, looking directly at each of us as he named our perceived imperfections.

“I beg your pardon?” the Captain said slowly and distinctly.

“You are the only appropriate specimen of you Humans,” GaLisas informed him. “Your appearance conforms to that which we deem conventional and acceptable.”

“My appearance,” the Captain said in clear disbelief. “You won’t listen to Lt. Uhura because she has brown skin. You ignore Lt. Sulu because he has almond shaped eyes. And you insult Lt. Commander Spock because he has traditional Vulcan features.”

“They are…aberrations.”

The Captain inhaled sharply, taking his communicator out of his pocket. “Enterprise. Four to beam up.”

“Sir?” Scotty’s unmistakable voice said in confusion.

“Four to beam up, Mr. Scott. Immediately.”

“Aye sir,” Mr. Scott agreed. We were caught in the transporter beam and deposited safely on the Enterprise.

The Captain looked at us with what I could only describe as misery and anger. “I am so sorry. We should have never gone down there.”

“You aren’t to blame,” Sulu rushed to assure him.

“I’m sorry, Jim. I didn’t see anything about them being so…irrational,” Nyota told Jim quietly, one hand on his arm in a gesture of comfort.

“I am to blame,” Jim said, shaking his head. “I should never allow any of you to be subjected to that sort of ignorant prejudice.”

“It is ignorance,” I added. “I am not insulted by their regrettable narrow-mindedness.”

“Me neither,” Sulu added. “We couldn’t have known. It wasn’t in any of the briefings.”

“I should have known,” the Captain said. “As soon as they didn’t offer you anything to eat or drink, we should have left.”

“We’ve seen stranger customs, Jim. What about the Delusians that insisted on washing our hands and feet before they would talk to us?” Sulu said with a laugh.

“Or the Alrgrians who wanted to dye my hair green,” Uhura added, also laughing.

“They did not insult three of the finest officers in Starfleet,” Jim said, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong?” Dr. McCoy said as he rushed into the transporter room. “Who’s hurt? What’s Jim done now?”

“We’re fine, Bones. Physically at least,” Jim said, holding up one hand. He gave a brief explanation of what happened, the Doctor as angry as Jim had been.

“What a bunch of ignorant, half-baked ignoramuses,” he said.

“Are ignoramuses by definition not ignorant?” I asked, knowing it would make the Captain laugh and the Doctor call me a name, in this instance being simply hobgoblin.

“I have to tell Pike,” Jim said with a sigh.

“Come to my office. I’ve got some liquid courage. Then you can call him,” Bones said. “Come on, you hobgoblin. You’ll need to be there when he calls Pike.”

I nodded and after remaining behind in order to ensure that Nyota and Hikaru were not feeling any negative repercussions, dismissed them from duty and made my way to sickbay.

“It’s not your fault, kid. You know that,” Leonard was saying as he refilled Jim’s glass.

“I know it’s not. Not really. But it feels like it is. We haven’t screwed up a mission yet. What if the Admiralty blames me? What if they take the Enterprise?”

“Now Jim,” Leonard said, leaning back in his chair after I had taken a seat. “How many successful missions have you lead?”

Jim shrugged and drank more of the Doctor’s finest bourbon.

“Sixteen successful first contacts. Twenty successful negotiations for planets to join the Federation. And three wars have been ceased due to your diplomatic skills,” I told Jim.

“Really?” Jim asked. “I mean. I know you know. But I guess I didn’t think it was that many. So one screw-up isn’t so bad, right? I mean, Pike’ll at least understand, right?”

“Of course he will, Jim. You got nothing to worry about. You did the right thing. The Federation is built on inclusion. Not prejudice because Sulu has almond eyes and Nyota has beautiful, soft, warm brown skin.”

“Beautiful, soft, warm is it?” Jim asked with a smile.

Leonard responded with a snort, pouring them both more bourbon. “You’re okay, right? I mean you pretend you don’t feel it but I know better,” he said to me.

“I am unaffected by the prejudice of the Galcylans. They are an ignorant and unfortunate race.”

“That’s for sure,” Jim agreed, drinking the rest of his bourbon and refilling his glass. “I don’t have white hair. Not yet. Why did they think I was normal?”

“Because they don’t really know you,” Leonard informed him.

“Thanks. Who made First Contact? They couldn’t have all conformed to those ignorant Galcylan’s version of ‘normal’ could they? I mean, we’re like M&Ms. All colors and varieties.”

“I am uncertain of the initial contact,” I admitted. “I will research that information.”

“’Kay. Not right now.

“Not right now,” I agreed, accepting a glass of water from Dr. McCoy. In an obvious attempt to cheer up Jim, Leonard recounted some of the more unusual missions in which we had participated. With his encouragement, I added my recollections to his, Jim laughing and also reminiscing about other missions.

“How ‘bout those tiny bear guys?” Jim said with a laugh. “What’s they called? You know, Spock. The ones that were lookin’ like Ewoks.”

“The LövVerkens,” I supplied to his nods.

“Yeah yeah. That was them. Ewoks. They fed us and fed us. I thought I was goin’ pop before we got beamed up,” he said, looking in his empty glass. “Give me some more.”

“I think you’ve had plenty,” Leonard told him.

“Nope. Not yet I’m not. I need somemores.”

“S’mores?” Leonard asked with a laugh.

“Mmm…s’mores. Chocolate. Mashmellows. Mmm... but since we got none s’mores, give me s’more. Please,” he added, holding his glass to Leonard. The Doctor looked at me and gave in, pouring more into Jim’s glass.

“This the last of it, Jim,” Leonard told him.

“No’s not. You got smore in your cabinet. Under g for ‘good stuffs.’”

“How many times have I told you to stop snooping in my cabinets?”

“Don’t know. Is not stoopin’. I’m Captain. Captain’s gotta know stuff. And things. What’s going on. You know. On my ships. And stuff,” Jim said.

“Being Captain does not give you free rein,” Leonard told him.

“Uh huh. Does so too. Tell im Pock. Tell im I’s got reins.”

“I prefer to remain apart from this argument,” I responded, making Leonard laugh.

“Good idea,” he agreed. “Help this drunken infant to his quarters.”

“I’m not so think as you drunk I am,” the Captain said with great indignation. As great as it could be when his elbow kept sliding off the edge of the Doctor’s desk. “What’s wrong wif your desk, huh? Slippin slidin.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my desk. You’re sloshed.”

“Nuh huh,” Jim responded. “Itty bitty tipsy maybe. S’all.”

“Sure,” Leonard said, trying to haul him to his feet. “Upsy daisy.”

“We don’t have basisies, Dones. We’re a flyin ship. Flyin flyin,” Jim said, standing unsteadily beside Leonard’s desk. “Ooohhh….titltin ship. Tiltin tiltin.”

Leonard shook his head and started guiding him toward the exit until the intercom halted his efforts. “McCoy here.”

“I have Admiral Pike for Captain Kirk, sir,” Lt. Akia informed him.

“Great,” Leonard said, looking at me in some dismay. “Just great.”

“Should I send him through, sir?” the Lieutenant asked in some confusion.

“Chris? Chris’s callin to me?” Jim asked in excitement.

“Yeah. And we’ll be lucky if we don’t all end up in the brig,” Leonard said, guiding Jim back to his chair and turning his monitor toward the Captain. “Okay, Akia. Send him down.”

“Yes sir,” Lt. Akia said, fading away to be replaced by Admiral Pike.

“Chrissss,” Jim said happily. “Hey ya Chris. What cha doin’?”

“I am trying to figure out the same thing,” the Admiral said, attempting to contain his laughter, much to our relief.

“You don know what cha doin?” Jim asked, staring at him as though trying to figure it out on his behalf.

“I’m trying to figure out what you are doing, Jim,” Pike corrected.

“Me? I’m…uhm…what am I doin?” Jim asked me in a loud whisper.

“We were discussing the recently concluded mission to Galcyla,” I supplied.

“Yeah. Oh yeah. We were talkin’, Chris. Bout the Ga-lacys,” Jim agreed. “They’re meanies.”

“They are?” Chris asked.

“Uh huh. Called Pock ugly. And said Karu’s got mistaken eyes. Called em…uhm… pecans?”

“Almonds,” I corrected. “And you were the one who said they are almond shaped.”

“That’s not helpful,” McCoy told me.

“Yeah yeah. They didn like Pock’s ears. And said Nota was burnt. She’s not burnt. She’s perfect.”

“Yes she is,” Chris agreed. “Spock, what did they say exactly?”

“Yeah yeah Pock, you tell im. You member evvvveryfing ever. Tell im, Pock.”

I recounted what the Galcylans had said, the Admiral understandably annoyed that their prejudice had dishonored us.

“We don wanna go there back again, kay, Chris? They fink Pock’s trocious. And Nota. She’s so so pretty. Why didna they know that, Chris? Why?” Jim asked in dismay.

“I was not aware of their narrow-mindedness or their prejudices. We’ll declare them off limits until they decide to see things more clearly.”

“Yeah yeah. Off-limits em. That’ll show teach em. Meanies.”

“Jim,” Chris said as evenly and firmly as he could manage. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”

“Oh. Bed. When’s Captains bein in bed time?” Jim asked Chris. Fortunately, Leonard and I had confessed that we had used telling the Admiral as a ploy to get the Captain into bed on the previous occasion when he had over-imbibed.

“In half an hour, isn’t it Commander?” Pike asked me.

“Yes, Admiral. That is my understanding.”

“Right right half hour. Stime now Pock?”

“It is 21:43,” I responded, adding several hours to the actual time to reduce the possibility of him protesting.

“Kay. So whens it Captains bein in bed time?”

“22:13,” I responded.

“Kay kay. Goin now Chris. Goin. No yellin kay? Kay Chris?” Jim said to the Admiral.

“No yelling, Jim. Go with Spock. He’ll make sure you get in bed on time,” Chris assured him. “You’ll report to me when he’s safely tucked in?”

“Of course Admiral,” I agreed, helping Jim to his feet and out of the Doctor’s office.

“Slow up down, Pock,” Jim requested.

“I apologize,” I responded, slowing my steps but not releasing my grasp on his arm.

“Hows it slow ups same as slow downs?”

“I have no answer for that,” I said.

“Kay kay. You goin ask Nota? She’ll know right? She’s smart. And pretty. Bones says so too.”

“Yes he does.”

“I saw em kissin,” he said to me in an overly loud whisper. “Kissin kissin.”

“Where?” I asked although I cannot imagine why.

“On the mouf. Bof of em.”

“I meant where were they when you witnessed this exchange?”

“They were changin on the observatorium.”

“I see,” I responded, steering him clear of an unfortunate yeoman who was standing in the corridor, mouth agape. “As you were.”

“Were what, Pock? What were I?”

“I was speaking to the yeoman,” I explained as I opened his door.

“Oh. Right right. Chris s’not mad, right?” he asked as we made our way to his sleeping area.

“Of course not.”

“Kay right. Right. You tell im I got here before Captains bein in bed time?” he asked as he stretched out on his bed.

“Certainly. Remove your uniform while I get your night clothes,” I instructed.

“Nope,” he said with a sigh. “Nopey noppers.”

“You cannot sleep in your uniform,” I told him, sitting on the edge of his bed with his pajamas.

“Can,” he said, opening one eye to look up at me. “The Ga-lacys were wrong Pock.”

“They were,” I agreed, pulling his shirt up over his unresisting arms.

“You’re aren’t trocious. You’re boo-tiful. Boo-tifully boo-tiful.”

“Thank you,” I responded as I helped him lay back down.

“Boo-tiful. Smart. Boo-tiful. Nice. Funny.”

“Thank you,” I repeated as I pulled the covers over him.

“I like you, Pock.”

“I like you, Jim.”

“A lot. A lot a lot. More’n friends a lot,” he said, his eyes closing by themselves.

“You do?” I heard myself ask.

“Uh huh. I wish we were changing in the observatorium like Nones and Byota,” he told me.

“You wish to kiss me?”

“Uh huh. Wanna kiss me. You. Kiss your boo-tiful lips. Lick your boo-tiful ears. See all your boo-tiful skins. S’okay?”

“It is okay,” I said although I was surprised. Not unpleasantly surprised but surprised none-the-less. And I wondered if he would remember saying those things once he woke.

“Would you? Pock? Would you wanna kiss me also too?” he asked.

“I would,” I said certain of the answer although I had never before considered it. Now that he had said it, I found I could consider little else than the idea of kissing him, all of him. And receiving his kisses in return. The idea was…agreeable. Very agreeable.

“Pock?”

“Yes Jim. I’m still here.”

“I sorry they were such meanies. I like M&M&M&Ms. Specially green ones. Green. Like you. Yep. Green,” he said.

“You like all the colors,” I told him.

“Yeppers. Greens bestest. Bestest of all. They shouldn be meanies to M&M&Ms. ‘M sorry they aren’t likin ems.”

“I know you are. But you are not to blame,” I assured him.

“Kay. Chrisss not blamin right?”

“No he is not.”

“Right right. You stayin till mornin time, right?”

“I will stay. You do not need to worry about me leaving you,” I said.

“Kay right. I love you Pock. That kay?”

“It is very much okay,” I told him, my fingers running through his hair as he drifted off to sleep, content with my presence and my promises that I would remain until morning.

Big One Happy Family

First Officer’s Personal Log
Stardate: 5098.1

The Enterprise is 365.1 Standard Earth days into our five year mission. Last night the crew of the ship engaged in a celebration of the one year anniversary of our assignment to the Enterprise.

The celebration commenced at 19:30 hours. The Captain and I arrived at 20:15 hours. His hair was still damp from the shower but if anyone noticed, they chose discretion over vocalization of the fact.

When we arrived, the party was, as Jim mentioned to me, already in full swing. There was music playing, crew members dancing, tables covered with food, champagne freely flowing. Jim accepted a glass from a passing yeoman who was distributing it to anyone interested in partaking.

“Bout time the two of you decided to show up,” Leonard said when we arrived at the Captain’s table. He was sitting pressed close to Nyota, his arm around her shoulder.

“We got…distracted,” Jim said with a shrug, not looking at me so that the color did not rise any further on his cheeks.

“I bet you did,” Leonard said with a laugh.

“You’re looking especially lovely, Nyota,” Jim said to her. She was extraordinarily beautiful in her luminescent red dress, her hair swept up in a most appealing fashion.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “You’ll save me a dance?”

“Of course,” Jim agreed, smiling over at her. “Everyone’s having a good time, right?”

“How can they not?” Leonard asked him. “Food. Music. Friends. Drinks. We’re on shoreleave tomorrow so we can drink as much as we want.”

“Are you implying that I shouldn’t?” Jim laughed.

“Yeah. But it won’t do any good. I know you’re going to tie one on,” Leonard told him.

“I may. And might I remind you that I haven’t even been tipsy since we were thrown off Galcyla. If I do drink too much tonight, don’t bother telling me Chris said I have to go to bed. I’m wise to you. To you both,” Jim said, giving us what Leonard refers to as ‘the evil eye.’

“I do not believe it will take Admiral Pike’s persuasion, real or fabricated, to get you into bed,” I said quietly, Jim nodding in agreement.

“You got that right,” he said with the smile he generally reserved only for me. Not that I pay particular attention to the various smiles he employs. Or those occasions on which they appear. Or who may be the recipient of those expressions.

“Captain, Commander,” Lt. Sulu said to us as he and Pavel came to join us at the table. “Fabulous party.”

“You’re having a good time?” Jim asked them.

“Ve are,” Pavel agreed enthusiastically. “Karu and I are leaving tomorrow. Noon. You are certain you are not minding, sir?”

“We’re all on shoreleave, Pavel. You can go wherever you want,” Jim assured them.

“Where are you going?” Hikaru asked me and Jim.

“Can’t say,” Jim responded with a wink. “Bones’ll know how to reach us if you need us.”

“And Admiral Pike,” Leonard added, making Jim laugh.

“Yes. Chris will know too. I don’t recommend calling him.”

We all turned to look toward the doorway as Scotty and Keenser entered, Scotty’s voice raised in his usual irritation at his diminutive companion. “I donna want to hear it.”

“What’s wrong now?” Jim asked Scotty when he arrived at the table.

“Keenser’s bein’ stubborn, sir. Much as you’d expect. I told him I didna want to leave the Enterprise. But he’s insistin' we need to visit Earth.”

“He’s never really been, Scotty,” Leonard said. “Seems only fair.”

“You can come to Earth with us,” Hikaru said. “We’re going to San Francisco. Then Russia.”

“San Francisco you say, laddie?” Scotty replied.

“We’re leaving tomorrow at noon,” Pavel said. “You are velcome to be coming vith us.”

“San Francisco?” Scotty asked Keenser.

“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding.

“Fine. It’s settled then,” Scotty said, looking over at Leonard and Nyota. “Where are you going?”

“The opposite direction of these two,” Leonard said, nodding his head at me and Jim. “The further I get from them, the better.”

“You’re going to miss us, Bones. You just like pretending you aren’t,” Jim told him, laughing.

“Yeah. Like I miss the migraine I had last week. Oh wait. You were the reason for that too.”

“How can you talk to your BFF like that?” Jim asked.

“BFF? What are you? Fourteen?” Leonard demanded because everyone expected him to.

“Maybe,” Jim responded.

“If you are leaving for a secret location, how will we be able to find the Captain?” Hikaru asked Leonard.

“What will you need him for? Help you get thrown in jail?” Leonard demanded.

“Len. Don’t be so cranky,” Nyota said, kissing his cheek. “We’re going to Alaska. Because neither of us have ever been. And we will have our communicators. Just like Jim and Spock will.”

Jim shrugged, accepting more champagne from a passing yeoman.

“You need to eat something,” Leonard said with genuine warmth in his voice.

“I will,” Jim assured him, looking over at one of the laden tables.

“Vhat vould you like, Captain? Karu and I will get it for you. And you, Commander.”

“You are free to choose for me,” I said, Jim agreeing with that sentiment. “Are you planning to address the crew?”

“Yeah. In a few minutes. I better eat something first,” Jim said, sipping more champagne.

“There’s surely no hurry,” Leonard agreed, refilling Jim’s glass without his prompting.

“Thanks,” Jim said. “So when are you leaving?”

“Noon tomorrow,” Nyota said. “We’re taking the same shuttle as Hikaru and Pavel. I’m hoping it will prevent certain people from complaining as much as he usually does.”

“I’m sittin’ right here, darlin’,” Leonard remained her, kissing her lightly.

“Oh. So you are,” she laughed, a most delightful sound.

“Just watch out for him throwing up on you,” Jim warned.

“I will,” Nyota assured him. “I’m sorry you have to wait an extra day.”

Jim shrugged at that. “We’re officially off tomorrow. But Starfleet prefers we wait until everyone else is safely away. Which is fine with me. I can tell you we have no plans to get up at the crack of dawn.”

“You could if you were in bed by Captain’s time,” Leonard told him.

“Don’t even start,” Jim said in a good natured manner. He accepted the plate from Hikaru while Pavel presented one to me which was equally loaded with appropriate party fare.

When we had both eaten some of the delicious food, Jim said he thought it was getting on to the time when he would speak with the crew. Leonard said he needed to wait at least until the next song finished because the crew was busy dancing and did he really want to interrupt their good time? Jim agreed to wait until they had finished and chatted with the crew who came by our table.

A buzz began at the doorway to the rec room and as our backs were to it, we were unaware of the reason until it grew closer, at which time we turned to find Admiral Pike in the center of a small crowd.

“Admiral,” Jim said, standing happily and smiling at Pike.

“Captain Kirk,” the Admiral said. “What is the meaning of this bacchanalia occurring on what is claimed to be the flagship of the fleet?”

“I have no idea, sir,” Jim said in mock surprise, looking around as though he just realized he was in the heart of a celebration. “I understood we were having a staff meeting. Where did these balloons come from, Commander?”

“I do not know, sir,” I responded. “I will investigate if you like.”

“I apologize, Admiral. The crew has become lax. It’s a good thing you chose to attend the staff meeting. I trust that you will set them straight as I have been unable to make a change in their behavior,” Jim said, shaking his head in supposed dismay.

“Well,” Pike said, looking around and studying the food tables. “As the meeting has already started, and there seem to be plenty of refreshments, you may as well carry on, Captain.”

“Very good, sir. Carry on,” Jim said to those gathered, all of whom responded with ‘Aye sir.’ Jim really smiled at Pike who embraced him in a warm hug. “What brings you to our humble starship?”

“I was invited to a party,” Pike explained, winking at Dr. McCoy. “Something about celebrating the first of many successful years. And helping keep you out of trouble.”

“You sneaky devil,” Jim said to Leonard. “I can’t believe you did this.”

Leonard shrugged and handed the Admiral a glass of champagne.

“Did you know?” Jim asked me.

“I did not. Apparently there was some concern that if I knew I would be unable to keep it a secret from you,” I said, conveying the information Leonard had just provided to me.

“I see,” Jim said with a broad smile. “I was going to say a few words to the crew, Chris. Will you speak as well?”

“I’d be honored,” Pike agreed, going with Jim to the dance floor which was conveniently unoccupied. A hush immediately fell over the room, all attention focused on the two of them.

“This isn’t a time for long speeches,” Jim said, smiling at those who were listening with rapt attention. “But there are some things that deserve to be said. Over the past year, I have had the honor and privilege of serving with the finest crew in all of Starfleet. I could not have asked for any better beings by my side as we have explored, journeyed, learned, grown. Who but us could have encountered real life Ewoks, found the planet inhabited by talking birds, stopped four wars from continuing, learned that prejudice does still exist, and grown into more than just a crew, to become a true family? We have mourned those we have lost - those we love and will never forget. We have rejoiced in the love that has bloomed and flourished between members of our family. We have celebrated every milestone there is to be celebrated in the course of lives. And we are gathered here to acknowledge and rejoice in the one year anniversary of our departure from Earth.

“Of all the things that we have learned over the past year, the most important is that together there is nothing which we cannot accomplish. If we are tired, there is someone to provide us relief until we can resume our duties. When we are sad, there is someone to lend a shoulder, an ear, and a Kleenex. When we are hungry, someone will make sure we eat. Because that is what families do. They guide, cajole, love, fight, work, play, argue, forgive, grow. And there is not a family that I would choose to be a part of other than the one right here.”

This statement was met with much applause and some scattered whistles. That the crew shared Jim’s sentiments was clear even before he had articulated them. Putting them into words crystallized for all gathered how we viewed ourselves and one another.

“And before we return to our party, our family celebration,” Jim said when the room was once more quiet. “Admiral Pike has a few words to share.” Jim stepped away from the center of the floor, leaving it open for the Admiral.

“Thank you, Captain,” Pike said to Jim with a warm smile. “There aren’t too many things I can add to what Captain Kirk has already said. You are the finest crew in all of Starfleet. An credit to the organization, to the Federation, and to yourselves. I have watched many of you grow from wet-behind-the-ears cadets to exemplary crewmembers. And I have been consistently pleased and proud to be associated with each and every one of you. Especially your Captain,” he said, stopping as the crew cheered once again.

“Captain Kirk obtained his position under some admittedly unusual circumstances. He has since proved that he is more than deserving of his position. I suspect many of you have had a hand in guiding, advising, and generally keeping him out of more trouble than he manages to find on his own. And to that I can only say thank you. To those who may have been withholding the truth about some of his more colorful behavior, I also say thank you and keep up the good work.” He had to stop to allow the laughter to die down before he could be heard as he continued. “A special word of thanks to Commander Spock and Dr. McCoy. The two of you have been the finest First Officer and CMO I have ever encountered. And I appreciate your work tremendously.” This earned cheers and applause as well, which Leonard and I both attempted to ignore.

“The entire crew of the Enterprise is the benchmark to which all other crews strive to equal. None have done so and I thank you for setting the mark high in inspiration to the others.

“Now – this is a party. Let’s have a good time before your shoreleave.” This brought additional cheers before the crew returned to their socializing.

The Admiral joined the Command Crew at our table, a full plate appearing before him along with a flute of champagne. “Thank you, Chekov.”

“Da. You are most velcome, sir,” Pavel said before sitting back by Hikaru.

"Why are there so many M&Ms on all the tables?" Pike asked in curiosity, reaching over to take a handful.

"They are an apt symbol of our crew," Jim explained, throwing a green one into the air and catching it in his mouth with no effort. He smiled me as he chewed it, his thoughts clearly on his face.

"They are quite symbolic," Pike agreed, eating several more before surrendering all of the green ones to Jim without protest. "You all packed?" Pike asked Jim, including me in the statement as well.

“Nearly,” Jim said, glancing at me briefly. “We still have time since we can’t leave until day after tomorrow.”

“There is that,” Pike agreed. “Would you mind if I stayed aboard with you?”

“Of course not, Chris. You are always welcome. You know that,” Jim assured him.

“Good luck, Admiral,” Leonard said with a typical roll of his eyes.

“Thanks,” Chris laughed. “Surely he can’t get into too much trouble.”

“We talking about the same Jim Kirk?” Leonard asked, Chris laughing even more at the question.

“Well, you do have a point,” Chris agreed, accepting more champagne.

“I can leave if you want,” Jim said, trying unsuccessfully to sound wounded.

“Nah. We talk about you to your face all the time. Where’s the fun in doing it when you can’t hear?” Leonard asked.

“Hmph,” Jim responded, refilling all the champagne flutes. “You want to dance?”

“I would enjoy that,” I agreed, going with him to the dance floor. We joined the crew in one of the line dances that were always popular during these parties. I was afforded the opportunity to enjoy Jim’s technique and his lithe body as he moved to the music. I had already had the opportunity to learn that he was flexible and nearly tireless when engaged in other activities. Watching him dance reinforced those concepts. I looked forward to the time we would have on shoreleave to learn of other of his physical attributes not readily apparent.

When the song ended, we returned to the table, Jim eating and drinking his champagne and talking with all those who stopped by. He spent much of his time talking to me and the Admiral, including the Command Crew in his reminiscing of the missions we had completed during our first year in space.

“You’d have been sooooo proud, Obi-wan. Spock talked ‘em into signing and I talked ‘em into not killin any of us,” Jim told the Admiral after finishing a story about a particularly difficult negotiation.

“You are a very good Jedi,” Pike assured him. “I’m proud of you 95% of the time.”

“And the 5% when you’re not?” Jim asked with a laugh.

“Oh no. You don’t want me discussing those times right now, do you?”

“I s’pose not,” Jim agreed. “Well, we done good, didn’t we?”

“You’ve done very well,” Pike said with a nod. “How many glasses has he had?”

“One too many, probably. Just wait, Admiral. You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Leonard warned him with a laugh.

Pike looked at me with a measure of concern. “Do you think we should cut him off?”

“He will strenuously object. And he does not become belligerent,” I assured him.

“Helllloooo…right here,” Jim said, waving at Pike.

“So I see,” Pike said. “I think you’ve had plenty of champagne already.”

“Not yet yet. There’s no Captains bein in bed time tonight. Shoreleave. Holiday time. And ‘sides, they made it all up. Used your name in vanity.”

“In vain, Jim. They had my permission get you in bed by evoking my name. And my authority.”

“Right right. Lots of ‘thority. That’s you Obi-one. Yeppers. You know the ways of the force. How’s Yoda?” Jim asked, laughing at his own cleverness.

Pike could only shake his head. “You sure you want to be stuck with him?” the Admiral asked me.

“I could not be more pleased by the prospect,” I told him.

“Better you than me,” Pike said, laughing. “Yes. I know you are still here, Jim.”

“Kay. You won be forgettin right? Cause iffn you wanna talk bout me, me and Pock can go to the observatorium. Go and be kissin.”

“We will not be going there tonight,” I told him quietly.

“Kay kay. Quarters. Dollars. We’ll be kissin kissin there. Maybe others things too, huh? Fun things.”

“Possibly. If you are not overly inebriated,” I said.

“In-brated? Noppers. Not me. I’m not so think as you drunk I am,” he said, his blue eyes barely focusing on me.

“I believe you are more inebriated than you realize. As is usually the case,” I told him.

“Oh no no no, Pock. You mad?”

“I am not. I am only concerned that you may be about to say something that you will regret.”

“Shhh….” he said, one finger over his lips. “I wonn. I promise Pock. And we wonn tell Chris, kay?”

“You won’t tell me what, Jim?” Chris asked, surprising Jim.

“Oh yeah. He’s here, Pock. Obione came to our party. Idn’t that nice, Pock?”

“It is very nice that the Admiral came to celebrate with us,” I agreed.

“Celebratin,” Jim agreed seriously. “Pock?” he said, indicating I should lean closer.

“Yes Jim?”

“I fink maybe I had some too more much ‘pagne. The floor isn waning to stand still. Not good, huh?”

“Not good,” I agreed, helping him to his feet. “I will escort you to quarters.”

“I’ll come with you,” Pike offered, smiling as Jim swayed next to me.

“Have fun,” Leonard said as he followed Nyota to the dance floor.

“Oh lookie. Nones and Bota are dancin dancin. Can we be dancin dancin Pock?”

“Not at this time.”

“Oh kay kay. Not dis time,” he said, leaning against me to remain upright. “Hey Obione?”

“Yes, Jim,” Pike responded with an affectionate laugh.

“You have some much too ‘pagne?”

“I did not,” Pike told him.

“Kay kay. Can you comin to Hi-wa-e wif me and Pock?”

“Three’s company, Jim,” Pike said.

“Oh yeah yeah. Bones says too. He’s goin go to Laska with Nota. I said tole him itd be four not free. But he says nope. Noppers. He’s not mad wif me, right, Pock?”

“He is not, Jim. He is not coming so that we may have the time alone.”

“Kay kay. So long as Bones’ is not mad.”

“Is he always so worried about friends being angry?” Pike asked me as we continued to gently guide the Captain down the corridor.

“When he drinks too much. Leonard and I theorize that some of his inner insecurities rise to the surface.”

“Ah,” Pike said in understanding. “The alcohol releases some inner demons.”

“In a manner of speaking,” I said.

“What manner peakin Pock?” Jim asked. “Bulcan? Cause I don unnerstan it yet mostly.”

“No, Jim. I was only explaining a theory to the Admiral. I was not planning to speak to you in Vulcan.”

“Good good. Cause there’s now a big roar in my head. A big big roarin roar. ROARRRRR,” he said in demonstration, startling a member of the engineering crew who was slightly ahead of us in the hallway.

“As you were,” the Admiral said in sympathy.

“As you were, Obione,” Jim repeated. “Were wha? Walkin? Talkin? Wha?”

“Walking and talking,” Pike agreed, sighing in relief when we reached our quarters.

“Walkin walkin,” Jim said as he tried to continue down the corridor.

“Come back, Jim,” Pike said, going after him to gently guide him back.

“Oops. Sorry Obione. Missed da door, didn I?”

“You did. But it’s okay. Spock and I will make sure you enter the right quarters.”

“Kay kay. Fanks, Obione. Yep yeppers. Dis is it,” Jim said, heading for our bed. “Nighty night time.”

“You need to get out of your jeans,” I said, sitting next to him.

“Mmm…too muchly trouble. It’s a funly fun party, huh?” he asked, leaning up against me.

“It was a very fine party,” I agreed. “The crew very much enjoyed it.”

“Uh huh. Fun fun. For eberbody. Cause we’re big one happy family, huh?”

“We are, thanks to you,” I said.

“Fanks. Fanks to you,” he said, moving around me enough to lay down. “Sleepin now. Comin?”

“Yes, I will join you shortly. Then I’ll help you undress.”

“Mmm…naked sleepins best,” he agreed, smiling into his pillow. “Pock?”

“Yes t’hy’la,” I responded, stroking his cheek.

“Make the roarin roar stoppin, kay?”

“I will when we are both in bed,” I promised.

“Im in bed ‘ready, right right?”

“Yes you are. As I will be very shortly.”

“Kay kay. Sleepins kay?”

“Of course you should go to sleep. I will be as well.”

“Kay kay. Tell Obione nighty night, kay?”

“Good night, Jim,” Pike said, smiling down at him.

“Mmm… nows Obiones in my head, Pock. But es not yellin yellin like Bones doos sometimes when es upset at me cause I maybe have been drinkin little bit much more.”

“The Admiral does not yell,” I agreed. “Go to sleep. And then I will join you.”

“Im fallin part?” he laughed.

“No. I will come to bed as well,” I explained.

“Kay kay. Hurry, kay kay?”

“I will,” I promised, kissing him before standing. I walked with the Admiral to the door, where he stopped to smile at me.

“You are very good for him,” Pike said warmly.

“As he is for me,” I agreed. “I am very fortunate.”

“You both are. And I couldn’t be happier for you both.”

“Thank you, Admiral.”

“Well,” Pike said, straightening slightly. “I’ll see you both at breakfast. Or lunch.”

“Very good, sir,” I agreed, seeing him out before returning to undress and lay down next to Jim. There is no harm in allowing him to sleep in his jeans, I decided, when I saw how deep and peaceful his sleep was already. After kissing his head and pulling him close, I too fell asleep.