Random snippets of ST XI
So I offered ladyblahblah ridiculous snippets of fics I am not writing, and she accepted. These are those snippets, and please keep in mind the ridiculous part, because they were written very quickly indeed, and they are very silly.
~~
Spock entered his quarters at precisely thirteen minutes after his shift had ended, mentally reviewing the personnel from his department currently up for promotion. He moved towards his desk, intending to access the terminal there and upload several notes to his files regarding said personnel for later perusal, when an incongruous sound from the sleeping area arrested his attention.
He pivoted neatly on his heel and strode to his bed.
He stared for several moments. Then:
"Captain. After I have removed the binding from your mouth, I shall expect an account of how precisely you came to be entirely unclothed in my personal chambers, and bound in a rather professional manner with what appears to be red ribbon."
~~
The door of meeting room 3 banged open and Jim slid through, dropping into his seat at the table with an insouciant grin. Chief Pike glared. "Kirk, you may not have noticed, but this meeting was supposed to start at eight o'clock. That doesn't mean eight-oh-three or even thirty seconds past the hour. Eight o'clock. Buy a watch."
Kirk scoffed. "It doesn't count if I'm here before eight-oh-one, and I was following a lead in the Montgomery Scott case, anyway. You know. Tracking people down instead of sitting around bitching about paperwork with the records people--"
"Kirk--" Pike began warningly.
"--and getting coffee from that place on Eighth," he finished smoothly, producing two plain containers. "I was in the area anyway. Here's yours, sir."
Pike visibly wavered, then accepted the thin paper cup. "One day I'm going to give up on the idea that you've got potential, kid, and then what'll you do?" he muttered, hiding a smile behind the rim.
Kirk beamed. "Not while they still have the Italian roast down on Eighth you won't," he said with a grin. "I'm Rosita's favourite, you know."
"Believe me, son, we all know that," Pike returned dryly. "We also happen to know that you've been in the hospital three times in the past month on the company dime. What happened to waiting for back-up, or hell, even your partner?"
"God, not this again," Kirk sighed. "Is this about Cupcake? He's slow, Pike, it's not my fault he couldn't keep up--what was I supposed to do, let that poor kid Rand get yanked into an alleyway right in front of me?"
"You were supposed to follow procedure, you young idiot, not go charging heroically into a drug ring completely blind and nearly get your stupid, suicidal ass killed! Do you know how many partners you've gone through in the past two years? Nine! Nine good officers who requested, and I quote, any assignment away from that crazy kid!"
Kirk slouched. "I didn't know it was a drug ring," he muttered. "And I'm better off without a partner, anyway. They just slow me down."
"Well, tough shit," Pike snapped. "You've got one." He tossed a file across his desk with a snap of his wrist.
Kirk opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again at a sharp glare. He sighed loudly, and grabbed the file with obvious reluctance.
"Spock Grayson? No, c'mon Pike, you've got to be kidding me--everyone knows about this guy, he's the most uptight, prissy, regulation-loving robot in the force! Not a chance in hell, he's crazy!"
"According to everyone you've worked with, so are you," Pike retorted. "Maybe he'll make you slow the hell down and save the precinct some money off your hospital bills. No, kid--I don't want to hear it," he added sternly. "He's waiting at your desk, and you'd better figure out how to get along with this one, Kirk. You're treading on some very thin ice here."
I did warn you about the silliness.
~~
Spock entered his quarters at precisely thirteen minutes after his shift had ended, mentally reviewing the personnel from his department currently up for promotion. He moved towards his desk, intending to access the terminal there and upload several notes to his files regarding said personnel for later perusal, when an incongruous sound from the sleeping area arrested his attention.
He pivoted neatly on his heel and strode to his bed.
He stared for several moments. Then:
"Captain. After I have removed the binding from your mouth, I shall expect an account of how precisely you came to be entirely unclothed in my personal chambers, and bound in a rather professional manner with what appears to be red ribbon."
~~
The door of meeting room 3 banged open and Jim slid through, dropping into his seat at the table with an insouciant grin. Chief Pike glared. "Kirk, you may not have noticed, but this meeting was supposed to start at eight o'clock. That doesn't mean eight-oh-three or even thirty seconds past the hour. Eight o'clock. Buy a watch."
Kirk scoffed. "It doesn't count if I'm here before eight-oh-one, and I was following a lead in the Montgomery Scott case, anyway. You know. Tracking people down instead of sitting around bitching about paperwork with the records people--"
"Kirk--" Pike began warningly.
"--and getting coffee from that place on Eighth," he finished smoothly, producing two plain containers. "I was in the area anyway. Here's yours, sir."
Pike visibly wavered, then accepted the thin paper cup. "One day I'm going to give up on the idea that you've got potential, kid, and then what'll you do?" he muttered, hiding a smile behind the rim.
Kirk beamed. "Not while they still have the Italian roast down on Eighth you won't," he said with a grin. "I'm Rosita's favourite, you know."
"Believe me, son, we all know that," Pike returned dryly. "We also happen to know that you've been in the hospital three times in the past month on the company dime. What happened to waiting for back-up, or hell, even your partner?"
"God, not this again," Kirk sighed. "Is this about Cupcake? He's slow, Pike, it's not my fault he couldn't keep up--what was I supposed to do, let that poor kid Rand get yanked into an alleyway right in front of me?"
"You were supposed to follow procedure, you young idiot, not go charging heroically into a drug ring completely blind and nearly get your stupid, suicidal ass killed! Do you know how many partners you've gone through in the past two years? Nine! Nine good officers who requested, and I quote, any assignment away from that crazy kid!"
Kirk slouched. "I didn't know it was a drug ring," he muttered. "And I'm better off without a partner, anyway. They just slow me down."
"Well, tough shit," Pike snapped. "You've got one." He tossed a file across his desk with a snap of his wrist.
Kirk opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again at a sharp glare. He sighed loudly, and grabbed the file with obvious reluctance.
"Spock Grayson? No, c'mon Pike, you've got to be kidding me--everyone knows about this guy, he's the most uptight, prissy, regulation-loving robot in the force! Not a chance in hell, he's crazy!"
"According to everyone you've worked with, so are you," Pike retorted. "Maybe he'll make you slow the hell down and save the precinct some money off your hospital bills. No, kid--I don't want to hear it," he added sternly. "He's waiting at your desk, and you'd better figure out how to get along with this one, Kirk. You're treading on some very thin ice here."
I did warn you about the silliness.