TITLE: It’s All About Style
AUTHOR: MikeJaffa
SYNOPSIS: Answer to Trek BBS’ “New” Challenge: Post-TMP: Chapel has a new job as the number 2 medical officer on the Enterprise, and Kirk says a word that’s new to Bones.
DISCLAIMER: Star Trek: The Motion Picture is owned by Paramount. I am making no money off this fic.
8
8
8
8
Doctor Christine Chapel came out of the *Enterprise’s* cavernous rec room with a plate, a fork, and a slice of carrot cake and almost ran into Spock.
She pulled up short and said, “Oh! Sorry, Spock. I didn’t see you there.”
“Quite all right, Doctor Chapel. I was hoping to talk to you anyway.”
“Oh?” Christine started eating the cake as she and Spock started walking down the corridor.
“Yes. Congratulations on being appointed the assistant chief medical officer. The orders just arrived.”
“After we saved the world from V’Ger. Typical.” She ate another bite. “And welcome back. It wouldn’t be the *Enterprise* without you.”
“Indeed. Although it is not logical, I am…pleased to be back aboard.”
Christine chuckled. “You want to talk about illogical, ever since that business on Arret, I’ve gone nuts for carrot cake after every crisis. Can’t help myself. I’ll gain 10 kilos by the end of the week.”
“The galley’s carrot cake is satisfactory, but it does not rise to the standard my mother set.”
Christine’s jaw froze in mid-chew. Then she finished chewing and swallowed. “Wait a second – are you telling me that ever since we shared consciousness that time that I’ve gone crazy for carrot cake because you liked your mom’s cake?”
“Evidently.”
“You know, we have a long history. Would that have anything to do with why I think ‘I-Chaya’ would be a good name for a pet?”
“I shielded your mind to the best of my ability, but some ‘leakage’ was inevitable.”
“And you never thought to tell me, Spock? You must be out of your – hey!” She smiled. “I get to say that now, don’t I?”
“Say what, Doctor Chapel?”
“‘Are you out of your Vulcan mind.’ I think it’s in the medical officer’s manual someplace.”
“There is no such directive in the manual.”
“Spooooooccccck. It’s me.”
“Indeed. In any case, it would be a waste of time for you to adopt Doctor McCoy’s phraseology.”
“Gee. Thanks. Old. Friend.”
“I meant no disrespect. As with all living things, you will learn and grow in your own unique way. Your path is yours and yours alone.”
“Such a beautiful philosophy from a planet where everyone wears the same hairstyle. Where’s the logic in that?”
“You are correct. There is no logic. Ancient superstitions associate elaborate hairstyles with bad luck. However, there is occasionally evidence to support it.”
“What evidence?”
“T’Pring.”
Another chuckle. “No argument—” Christine cut herself off and she turned a little more serious: “Hang on, where does that leave your mother?”
“You will have to ask my father.”
“I think I’ll ask your mom.”
“Indeed.”
Christine had finished the cake when they got to the sickbay door. They entered the sickbay, and she dropped the plate down a chute just inside the door. Kirk and McCoy were talking in McCoy’s office.
Spock’s attention went to the hole in the bulkhead the Ilia probe had less than a day before.
Spock said, “Forgive the interruption, Doctor McCoy, but have you alerted engineering about repairing that bulkhead?”
“What--?” McCoy craned his neck to look through the office window at the hole. “Oh, that. I’ll get around to it, Spock.”
“One would hope so, Doctor. It would be inauspicious to begin your second tour on the *Enterprise* with being reported for dereliction of duty.”
“‘Dereliction of duty’?” McCoy said.
Spock said, “As chief medical officer, you are responsible for overseeing the maintenance of the ship’s medical facilities, including the bulkheads.”
“W-wait a minute,” McCoy sputtered. “I was drafted, Shanghaied…got dragged halfway across the alpha quadrant…and then we end up trapped in this machine ship…and Earth is almost…and Decker and Ilia…and you have a bug up your butt about…about…ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR VULCAN MIND!?”
Spock turned to Christine and his right eyebrow twitched up.
Christine smiled. “Point conceded, Spock, but you get no points for trolling.”
“Indeed, Doctor Chapel. I shall endeavor to remember that.”
McCoy said, “Trolling? What do you mean? What are they talking about, Jim?”
“Bones,” Kirk said, “it’s time like this I remember a word I learned back on Sigma Iotia II.”
“What’s that, Jim?”
“‘Fuhgeddaboudit,’” Kirk said. “C’mon, Spock. Let’s mind the store.”
THE END
AUTHOR: MikeJaffa
SYNOPSIS: Answer to Trek BBS’ “New” Challenge: Post-TMP: Chapel has a new job as the number 2 medical officer on the Enterprise, and Kirk says a word that’s new to Bones.
DISCLAIMER: Star Trek: The Motion Picture is owned by Paramount. I am making no money off this fic.
8
8
8
8
Doctor Christine Chapel came out of the *Enterprise’s* cavernous rec room with a plate, a fork, and a slice of carrot cake and almost ran into Spock.
She pulled up short and said, “Oh! Sorry, Spock. I didn’t see you there.”
“Quite all right, Doctor Chapel. I was hoping to talk to you anyway.”
“Oh?” Christine started eating the cake as she and Spock started walking down the corridor.
“Yes. Congratulations on being appointed the assistant chief medical officer. The orders just arrived.”
“After we saved the world from V’Ger. Typical.” She ate another bite. “And welcome back. It wouldn’t be the *Enterprise* without you.”
“Indeed. Although it is not logical, I am…pleased to be back aboard.”
Christine chuckled. “You want to talk about illogical, ever since that business on Arret, I’ve gone nuts for carrot cake after every crisis. Can’t help myself. I’ll gain 10 kilos by the end of the week.”
“The galley’s carrot cake is satisfactory, but it does not rise to the standard my mother set.”
Christine’s jaw froze in mid-chew. Then she finished chewing and swallowed. “Wait a second – are you telling me that ever since we shared consciousness that time that I’ve gone crazy for carrot cake because you liked your mom’s cake?”
“Evidently.”
“You know, we have a long history. Would that have anything to do with why I think ‘I-Chaya’ would be a good name for a pet?”
“I shielded your mind to the best of my ability, but some ‘leakage’ was inevitable.”
“And you never thought to tell me, Spock? You must be out of your – hey!” She smiled. “I get to say that now, don’t I?”
“Say what, Doctor Chapel?”
“‘Are you out of your Vulcan mind.’ I think it’s in the medical officer’s manual someplace.”
“There is no such directive in the manual.”
“Spooooooccccck. It’s me.”
“Indeed. In any case, it would be a waste of time for you to adopt Doctor McCoy’s phraseology.”
“Gee. Thanks. Old. Friend.”
“I meant no disrespect. As with all living things, you will learn and grow in your own unique way. Your path is yours and yours alone.”
“Such a beautiful philosophy from a planet where everyone wears the same hairstyle. Where’s the logic in that?”
“You are correct. There is no logic. Ancient superstitions associate elaborate hairstyles with bad luck. However, there is occasionally evidence to support it.”
“What evidence?”
“T’Pring.”
Another chuckle. “No argument—” Christine cut herself off and she turned a little more serious: “Hang on, where does that leave your mother?”
“You will have to ask my father.”
“I think I’ll ask your mom.”
“Indeed.”
Christine had finished the cake when they got to the sickbay door. They entered the sickbay, and she dropped the plate down a chute just inside the door. Kirk and McCoy were talking in McCoy’s office.
Spock’s attention went to the hole in the bulkhead the Ilia probe had less than a day before.
Spock said, “Forgive the interruption, Doctor McCoy, but have you alerted engineering about repairing that bulkhead?”
“What--?” McCoy craned his neck to look through the office window at the hole. “Oh, that. I’ll get around to it, Spock.”
“One would hope so, Doctor. It would be inauspicious to begin your second tour on the *Enterprise* with being reported for dereliction of duty.”
“‘Dereliction of duty’?” McCoy said.
Spock said, “As chief medical officer, you are responsible for overseeing the maintenance of the ship’s medical facilities, including the bulkheads.”
“W-wait a minute,” McCoy sputtered. “I was drafted, Shanghaied…got dragged halfway across the alpha quadrant…and then we end up trapped in this machine ship…and Earth is almost…and Decker and Ilia…and you have a bug up your butt about…about…ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR VULCAN MIND!?”
Spock turned to Christine and his right eyebrow twitched up.
Christine smiled. “Point conceded, Spock, but you get no points for trolling.”
“Indeed, Doctor Chapel. I shall endeavor to remember that.”
McCoy said, “Trolling? What do you mean? What are they talking about, Jim?”
“Bones,” Kirk said, “it’s time like this I remember a word I learned back on Sigma Iotia II.”
“What’s that, Jim?”
“‘Fuhgeddaboudit,’” Kirk said. “C’mon, Spock. Let’s mind the store.”
THE END
