Giving Kirk What For (Kelvinverse)

[Laura Cynthia Chambers]

If it's important enough, you'll forget your fear and do it anyway.

Leonard McCoy learned that lesson today. And Jim Kirk would never forget it.

It was just about noon on Golostyn III and the fourth sun was rising into a pale green sky. For the first time, he was blessedly alone. The crew of the Enterprise was supposed to be on shore leave here this week. And nearly everyone was, except for a skeleton crew in charge of monitoring the systems and securing the ship.

Oh yeah. And Bones.

Kirk still couldn't believe his friend had opted to stay on board instead of coming along for the adventure. "C'mon, Bones," he'd begged. "Stick around here too long and you'll become as shrivelled as one of your pickled specimens." To which McCoy folded his arms and let out a long-suffering sigh, pinning him to the wall with a glare. The kind that said, Don't you have somebody else to pick on besides me? Kirk decided to get out of there before he came up with a verbal retort. Or remembered some obscure scan or missing booster shot.

Oh, well. Your loss, Bones. Kirk peered over the edge of the bubbling crater lake. Swirls of saltwater-tinged air played with his hair and moistened his face. A smile curved his lips. This is going to be epic….. He backed up a few steps and crouched into a running position on the plateau. Then, as if a pistol had gone off, audible to no one but him, he lunged forward and threw himself off the outcropping.

His first sensation was absolute silence. Whoa… Then a buffet of wind across his face, pushing his skin against his skull and making his body shudder. He stretched his arms back against his sides and dropped like a bullet, towards the green-tinged water below. Pulled his legs towards his body and folded up like a trifold brochure, rotating in midair. Shut his eyes as his body collided with the surface of the water.

Wet….dark….everything was exploding….white foam…..where are my legs? Kick….falling…still falling….air….. He blinked hard and sucked in a breath. It tasted like the water, but….

Kirk flailed around weakly, his hands exploring the deep. His knuckles grazed a soft surface. He pressed harder on it, and while there was some give, it didn't break. He opened his eyes wide. A transparent layer of water surrounded him. Wait…. I'm in a giant air bubble. No wonder I can still breathe. He kept his breaths even and shallow, trying not to panic. Okay, think….how do I get out of here?

Kirk leaned against the side of the bubble, his muscles tensed. Yet he felt his body slowly rising from the crater floor towards the surface of the water. Why am I still moving? Oh….because I'm breathing. Hot air rises. Maybe that's it…. He arched his back, toes pointed towards the bottom of the bubble, hands spread and stretched out towards the sky.

SHWHOOKIP! The bubble burst all around him, sending droplets spilling into the water. He gasped for a lungful of air, letting it back out in a whoop that echoed all over the surrounding rockface. "Yeah! Ha ha! Ha-" Kirk choked on his yell, swallowing hard. "Yay," he whispered, grinning to himself.

Kirk dog-paddled shorewards, pulling himself out of the water and onto dry land. Sopping wet, he bent over in a kneeling position before standing up on weak legs. He raised his hands in the air. Nailed it.

He spun around as a rustling sound caught his ear. Sudden swirls of light appeared in front of him, and several members of his crew materialized. Nobody appeared to be amused; Spock was frowning intensely, while a wide-eyed Uhura stood next to him, clutching his sleeve with one hand, covering her mouth with the other. Chekov looked as though he either wanted to cry or ask him what it was like. Maldonado was pointing his phaser in Kirk's direction, still unsure whether this drenched creature was indeed their captain. Flanigan was facepalming with both hands, and Nyes'Isai'van had turned a peculiar shade of bright purple.

Spock spoke up first. "That was very foolhardy, Captain…." He let his sentence trail off. The others quickly continued his thought.

"What were you thinking?"

"You could've been killed, sir…."

"Very was it perilous. Very was it unnecessary."

"Are you sure he's in his right mind?"

"Captain…."

"Hey, whoa….calm down…" He extended his hands, palms facing them. "I'm alive, I'm unharmed, I'm okay. So let's just….move on, alright?" But they had already turned their backs on him. Transporter light swirled around their bodies, and they disappeared as quickly as they came.

Kirk raked his hand through his wet hair. Oh, man… am I in trouble…they're not going to let this go. I'll probably hear about it for days….

He reached for his communicator to call the transporter room. But before he could make the call, he heard a whoosh and the air shimmered before him again. Now what?

A human form appeared 2 feet away. Bones? He barely had time to register the visitor's identity before he felt a rush of air followed by a sharp CRACK! and stinging pain as McCoy's open palm made contact with his left cheek.

"Ow!" Kirk stumbled backwards, his hand instinctively reaching up to cover his reddening face. McCoy frowned angrily at him, remaining there for the briefest of seconds, before vanishing in a bright column of moving light.

Kirk continued to stare at the spot his friend and doctor had just occupied. He rubbed his face and let his arm drop to his side, before placing both hands on his hips. Huh…I thought he hated transporters…

McCoy, strangely enough, has no actual dialogue in this.

 

[Laura Cynthia Chambers]

He should have known better than to think he was safe from intruders.

Leonard shifted his backside, trying to get comfortable on the well-worn campstool. Sighing languidly, he peered around the edge of the wet canvas, looking for a better angle through the early morning haze. The clear blue freshwater lake stretched out as far as the eye could see. Sweeping pine trees surrounded its banks, their long dangling branches lazily poking the air. Across the water, a faint glimmer of sunrise twinkled a dreamy purplish blue-gold.

Behind the wooden pier he now perched on the edge of, a wooden sloped roof lake house sat, its dark walls and high windows blending with the forest behind it. French doors lead to a small deck which jutted out over the water like a figurehead on a ship. There, a pair of Adirondack chairs extended an invitation to curl up under a throw blanket with a hot cup of tea and watch the loons that glided slowly by. Every now and then one would release its signature cry so reminiscent of insane laughter.

It was a nice place. For a holographic program, that is.

He chuckled softly to himself, setting down his palette on the dock to give the old fishing hat he wore a good tug. Maybe I am crazy. Painting a picture of a holo-simulated location… Picking up the palette again, he reached for a soft horsehair paintbrush and dabbed it in a deep lavender color. This would be the cloud that now rested just to his left, a rather feathery oval. He wisped the bristles gently across the canvas, leaving a faint suggestion of vapor, before blending a little light gray with the underside.

Perfect. I think I captured it. He had been working on this painting for a solid 3 months now, whenever he could find the time between having to resuscitate Jim – again- or find some cure for a brand new breed of nasty malevolent viral infection. It was a hobby that Spock had suggested to him in one of his less guarded moments. Well what do you know? He actually had a good idea this time. He found himself oddly soothed by the way the brush danced across the page, calling into reality a miniature version of the scene approximated before him.

Since most of McCoy's experiences with nature didn't leave him near enough time to appreciate the scenery, he'd decided to experiment with this program, based on a lakefront lodge he'd briefly considered buying in the early days of his marriage. Considering how long that had lasted, he figured that in retrospect, it was probably a good thing he hadn't. Something else she would've gotten. At least Pam can't take this from me…

He stroked his chin, studying the interplay of light and color on the water. Hmmm…have I got the reflection exactly right? It was hard to tell for sure, the way the program was constantly changing. He'd tried pausing the program, but ironically, despite the fact that his finished work would freeze one moment in time, using a still shot for inspiration seemed wrong. If I could just get across that sense of time passing, constantly changing…but in one painting… Leonard rubbed his forehead, squinting.

He opened his eyes as a whisper of shadow passed overhead. A lone goose soared through the fog and disappeared, its wide wings flapping in a steady rhythm. Leonard smiled. Sometimes the randomness of this program surprised even him.

Dipping his paintbrush in an old coffee mug with the handle broken off, he cleaned the tip, swirling it around. He pressed it against the edge. Smoky purple water ran down the edge over the words "Starfleet Medical". He raised the palette and selected a muted gray for the goose's silhouette.

Just as he was about to stroke the avian into pigmentary existence, "WHOO-HOO HOO!" A loud loon call echoed from behind his head, shattering the stillness of the lake.

"WHUH!" McCoy jumped up from the stool, knocking over his easel with a loud clatter and sending paint and dirty water splashing all over the pier. His brush rolled away, dropping into the water with a quiet ploop, followed by the palette, which had landed on its edge and spun in circles before taking a swan dive of its own. The stool tipped to one side, but fortunately, remained high and dry.

He stepped over the easel and gingerly approached the edge of the dock, swearing under his breath. His canvas lay flat on its back, covered in splattered droplets of paint water. Peachy. Bending over at the waist, he grabbed the work in progress by the edges and set it down behind him. He straightened up again, hands on hips. Retrieving the palette and brush would be as easy as saying, "Computer, end program." But something defiant in him didn't want to leave just yet.

"WHOO-HOO-HOO!"

"AHH!" Leonard gasped, whipping his head from side to side as he tried to identify the source of the sound. It didn't take him long.

Jim materialized out of the mist, his face a boyish mix of brat and frat boy. He approached Leonard with a mischievous grin on his face. "Did I scare you, Bones?" he chuckled. McCoy said nothing, letting his "I am not amused" frown speak volumes.

Jim appeared not to notice, though, but merely clapped Leonard on the shoulder before cupping his hands around his mouth and imitating the cry once more, "Whoo-hoo-h-" before giving in to laughter again. A single tear ran down his cheek and he brushed it away. "Heh, heh, heh…oh man… need some help? Let me just…" His voice trailed off as he stepped around Leonard and headed towards the end of the pier, stooping next to the collapsed easel.

In that moment, something snapped inside McCoy. Without thinking, he stomped over to the captain and planted his boot in the seat of the captain's pants. Kirk let out a yelp and lost his balance, flying into the frigid water headfirst with a loud SPLASH!

"That'll learn ya!" McCoy barked.

For the next two minutes, he stood there watching Jim sputter and cough as he thrashed about in the lake. His blond hair was plastered to his head, while his lips had turned almost as blue as his eyes. "B-bones! What did you do that for!?" He reached up one hand and wiped his eyes, squinting, before resuming his shocked expression.

Ha! You want to be a loon, you're going to have to swim like one…

Eventually, though, he took pity on Jim. Or maybe his doctor instincts kicked in. Real or imagined, the chilly lake could still induce hypothermia or pneumonia. The last thing he wanted was to have to officially document his part in this whole fiasco.

Five minutes later, they were up on the deck, Kirk cocooned in a plaid fleece blanket pulled up over his head. His shaky hands poked out of an opening, gratefully accepting a mug of hot, strong tea. He took a sip, sighing before setting it down on the table between them. He drew the blanket tighter and met Leonard's concerned but amused gaze. "I-I c-c-could have you court-martialed for th-th-this, y'know," he threatened without malice. "D-didn't you take an oath or s-something?"

Leonard regarded him for a moment before speaking. "Really, you had it comin', kid. Don't deny it."

Kirk let out a slow breath. He smiled. "Maybe I did. But-hachoo!" He rubbed his nose, sniffling. "I'll get eben wit you if it's de last thig I do. Hachoo!" He buried his snotty face in the folds of the blanket. Ew.

McCoy sighed deeply, looking out over the water again. The mist was dissipating, giving way to a gorgeous blue sky. Memorize it, Leonard. Something tells me you're not gonna see this place for at least a week...maybe longer…

 

[Laura Cynthia Chambers]

"Try it on."

"Absolutely not!" Leonard turned in his chair, away from the insistent woman who was bent on making his life a living hell. He crossed his arms over his chest. Deep lines etched into his face and his lips pressed tightly together.

Nyota rubbed her temples, sighing. "Please, Doctor? Just humor me, okay?" She touched his arm lightly.

McCoy ignored it. An artery pulsed in his forehead. Ugh. Go bother Spock. Please. He pretended to be intrigued with the green salad and seyem juice he'd chosen for lunch. Enthralled. Mesmerized. Anything to avoid the communications officer's scrutiny and that bundle of fabric in her lap.

Nyota finished the last mouthful of chocolate milk from the blue glass to her right and pushed it away. "I thought you'd be on board with this. As I recall, you were the one who noticed we, as a whole, were getting a bit…soft lately."

"The word is fat. 1.7% overweight, on average. And I am on board. See?" McCoy spoke with his mouth full, indicating his half-eaten salad with one hand.

"I'm sure you know that losing weight involves more than eating lettuce." She played with her empty glass absently. "Exercise is important, too."

McCoy dropped his fork in his lap. He picked it up and pointed it at her. "I know that! I didn't sleep through medical school, Lieutenant." He forked a tomato wedge and put it in his mouth. "What I don't get," he continued as he chased it down with the juice, "is why you think wearing that is going to make a difference."

She placed the bundle on the table top and pushed it over to him. "Everybody respects your opinion, Leonard,… whether or not they always follow your advice." She counted on her fingers. "Add that to your charisma, leadership skills, and concern for our well-being – you're a natural."

McCoy snorted. He looked her in the eyes, grinning. "Please don't butter me up, Jim." He crooked a finger and counted it. "And by the way, you forgot 'enthusiasm'. Probably because you know I have none."

"Can't blame a girl for trying." Nyota stood up, a resigned look on her face. Her dark eyes twinkled. "Should've known, though. He told me you'd never go for it…" She reached for the fabric.

McCoy put his hand over hers and squeezed it. "Wait, wait, wait….hold on…who told you what?"

"Nobody."

She tried to pull away, but he drew her back towards him. "Tell me."

Nyota sighed. "Fine. It was Jim. He saw me working on the concept and asked me what I was doing. So I told him." She paused.

"And?" McCoy looked up at her eagerly.

"He laughed, and then he said you wouldn't have the nerve. That's it. May I go now?" She picked up the fabric and walked away, smiling. Any minute now…

"Wait. Uhura." She pivoted in place. "I'll do it." He jumped up and snatched the material from her, then stalked away. "Heaven help me, I'll not have Jim telling everyone I'm a coward!"

"I had a feeling you'd change your mind, Doctor." Nyota laughed softly.

***

"Thanks for letting me know, Scotty." Kirk ended the communication and tried to focus on the report that swam in front of his eyes. "About time for a break." He yawned and stood up, stretching.

Ding. A message appeared on the screen. He tapped it and saw a message and a video file. Nyota's picture from her personnel file accompanied it. "'I win. Pay up.' Oh, man…is this what I think it is?" His eyes widened as he tapped the 'play video' icon. "Oh, no…"

Several images of stars, planets and nebulas played on the screen as techno music began to play. Starfleet insignia from various departments rolled from the right side of the screen, with the medical symbol last and larger than the rest. Clink. It grew even bigger and filled the screen.

"Get ready for an exciting hour of fat-burning fun." Nyota's voice narrated. "It's time to get healthy in space. Welcome to….Jump For Joy With Doctor McCoy!" The title appeared on the screen for a few seconds, before being replaced by a spacious bright room with several exercise apparatus lining the walls.

A door opened and Leonard McCoy jogged into the room, a pained smile on his face. He was wearing a bright teal jumpsuit that looked like he had been poured into it. "Hello, crew. Are you ready to work out?" He rubbed his hands together. "'Cause I sure am." McCoy made a face as though he had eaten something unpleasant. "We'll start with some stretches. But first, an exciting announcement…" He looked right at the camera. "Next time, we'll be joined by the captain!" McCoy smiled, all his teeth showing. "Won't that be fun, Jim?"

Kirk facepalmed. Yeah…lots of fun. He could feel a headache forming already. Next time you have a brilliant idea, Lieutenant, do me a favor; keep it to yourself.

 

[Bynar0110]

 

[Laura Cynthia Chambers]

Glad you enjoyed it. These were originally published on fanfiction.net with a bunch of other stories/vignettes under the title "Trek Tales". It just occurred to me three of them have McCoy getting back at Kirk for something.

 

[Laura Cynthia Chambers]

"Just relax, Captain…have a drink of water, take a deep breath, and close your eyes. Try to imagine what you are describing." Uhura passed the tablet across his desk to Kirk and smiled slightly. In an effort to attract more recruits in the wake of recent events, Starfleet had decided it needed a spokesperson who had actually been through the fire. Someone young, charismatic, and enthusiastic. Naturally, they'd chosen Kirk. Who else? He smirked to himself. The request and script had been sent over from Recruiting this morning, and as the lieutenant had received the message, she took it upon herself to help him get his enunciations right. Or, as she had tactfully put it, "make sure you don't totally mess it up."

"No problem." He studied it for a few seconds, nodded, and reached for the bottle of water. As he lifted it to his lips and drank, he caught McCoy's eye. The doctor smiled easily at him, before making the "okay" sign with his right hand. You'll do fine, Jim. Kirk swiveled the chair side to side, before leaning forward and looking at the script. It was actually quite poetic.

"Beyond the white-capped mountains, golden prairies, and impossibly blue oceans that once defined our explorations…there is space…limitless…vast…full of adventure and infinite possibilities. The pioneer heart that drove us onward still beats inside us to this day. Join Starfleet and be a part of this unimaginable journey. A myriad of unknown worlds call your name."

He drew in a deep breath, pausing for effect. McCoy's eyebrows quirked upwards as he sank back in his chair, evidently surprised. Uhura, whose eyes had been closed as she listened, leaned forward slightly and opened her mouth. Before she could speak, he held one finger up in the air. She nodded, deferring to him. He shook his head, lay the tablet back on his desk, and gave his trademark winning smile, the kind that made the ladies swoon and the men smoulder in envy. IMHO, anyway…

"My name is James T Kirk, and I improve this message."

He watched in amusement as McCoy jolted forward, his eyes pinched in scrutiny, head cocked to one side as though he couldn't believe what he just heard. Uhura's eyes, on the other hand, rolled back in her head as she let out a little huff, as if to say, "Oh, brother." She grabbed the tablet and skimmed the text, before looking up at him. "It doesn't say that," she frowned.

Kirk pinched his finger and thumb together. " Yeah…I added that last part myself."

McCoy, who had regained some of his composure, tsked. "Really? And besides, Jim, even if it did, it's supposed to be "approve", not "improve".

Kirk grinned, pointing at his chest with his right thumb, pleased as punch. "Not from where I'm standing."

"Oh, please," Uhura sighed loudly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You know, you almost nailed it cold, Jim. But, noooo, you just couldn't resist the call of the wild ego." McCoy shook his head.

"What, you think you could've done better?" Kirk stabbed the air in front of McCoy lazily. "I know exactly what you'd say; 'Join Starfleet. If you're darn lucky, maybe you'll come back alive…but probably not.'"

McCoy's face turned bright red. "That's not funny!"

"Oh, yes it is…" Kirk smiled.

Uhura leaned forward and took his hand in both of hers. "Look, there's a reason why they chose you for this. People respect you, your opinions, your courage. They'll listen to you, not some 'stuffy old man'."

Kirk lazily let his mouth droop open. "Soooo, if I'm right, what you're saying is…technically, I do improve this message." He pointed forwards with both index fingers.

Uhura huffed out a sigh. "All right, yes…"

Kirk turned to face McCoy, who was still sulking, arms crossed, turned away. "Say it."

McCoy tipped his head forward. "Say what?"

"You know what."

"No."

"Say it."

"No. I won't."

"SAY IT."

"Is that an order?"

"Maybe…maybe not. You decide. Do you like scraping asteroid bits off the outer hull?"

"I-" McCoy paused, finger pointing upward in the air. He covered his face with both hands, muffling his speech. "Ergh. Fine. You improve this message. Heaven knows you improved my life. Happy?"

Kirk sighed. "Much."

McCoy spun his chair to one side, frowning. "Mind you, when I say 'improve', I mean 'complicate'…" he muttered under his breath. Uhura laughed softly.

 

[Laura Cynthia Chambers]

Okay, this time he gets him with a smart remark, but still...