Trek fic: Captain's Cat, gen
Title: Captain’s Cat
Pairing: gen, (with a hint of Pike/McCoy)
Rating/genre: gen humour
Warnings: AU riffing off STID, summary below the cut to avoid spoilers
Word count: about 2500
Summary: When newly-appointed Captain Pike points out that animals are not actually allowed on board, it is somehow up to Dr McCoy to sort it out.
The senior crew stood rather nervously in the conference room, ready for the first senior staff meeting since lift-off under their new captain. Everyone knew that new regime was likely to be very different from the old one, and everyone was carefully not watching Jim. Leonard glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eye, the young man appeared very serious and very professional, and very determined not to look hurt by his demotion.
Standing next to Jim was Spock, that had been another surprise. Their erstwhile first officer had turned down his transfer to the USS Bradbury as first officer under Captain Abbott, instead petitioning to remain on the Enterprise as chief science officer. The two of them were apparently closer than ever and Leonard was glad to see it, he was largely over his jealousy of Jim’s and Spock’s famously destined friendship and was simply glad to see Jim getting support at this difficult moment in his life.
Nyota seemed happy enough, as a stickler for rules he suspected she’d be happier without Jim’s laissez-faire approach. And Scotty was positively beaming, apparently an ship free of Section 31 photon torpedoes on-board was all he needed to be content.
Everyone snapped to attention as Captain Pike entered the room. Leonard had to admit that with Jim as captain, he’d always felt as if he was part of an out-of-control holiday in space with a bunch of his friends. With Captain Pike in charge, for the first time he felt the full weight of his duty as a Starfleet officer.
“Now, things are always rather different with a new captain,” started Pike, “so I’m going to run you through how I implement certain procedures-- What the hell is that?”
Leonard, along with everyone else in the room, looked down to where a long-haired black cat with white patches on his nose and his flanks was happily winding his way between Pike’s legs.
“It’s a cat, sir,” offered Spock.
“I can see that,” snapped Pike. “Who’s cat is it?”
Every single one of them stared straight ahead, not meeting their captain’s eye.
“Well, your loyalty to each other is commendable, but I am sure you know that animals are not allowed on board an operational starship, so I want that cat removed next time we dock. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes sir,” they all chorused, as the cat jumped up onto a conference room chair and curled up comfortably, unconcerned about his order of expulsion. Leonard noted with concern how subdued Jim’s reply was.
He was still wondering what to do about it when Nyota sidled up behind him. Pike was busy with some matters primarily of concern to Jim and Spock and she took advantage of the distraction to hiss in his ear, “Leonard, you have to sort it out!”
“Why me?” he whispered back.
“Because Jim obviously can’t do it, he has to behave himself. And Spock’s not going to manage an appeal to Pike’s better nature. So heaven help us but it’s going to have to be you. You know it’s not just about the cat.”
“Those are the rules Nyota, what am I supposed to do about it?” he hissed.
“Don’t think you get to wriggle out of this. If our sehlat goes, Trouble goes too. I’ll make sure of it. Now sort it out!”
“Something you two would like to share with the class?” asked Pike dryly and they both hastily turned back to face their captain.
How the hell was he going to get them out of this one? Nyota did not make idle threats, but he could hardly cuff Pike on the back of the head and call him an idiot, the way he had with Jim. By the time the meeting was at an end, Leonard had come up with a possible plan. He stayed behind as the others left. “Sir, just one more thing.”
“Yes, Dr McCoy.”
“I’d like to brief you on some details concerning the wellbeing of certain crew members. Could you come down to my office later?”
* * *
Leonard waited nervously for Captain Pike to arrive, he hoped this would work, he really didn’t want to give up Trouble. Speaking of which, it probably wouldn’t help his cause to have him sitting quite so blatantly on his desk. He grabbed Trouble’s box and pushed it under the desk.
Pike strolled in with an air of complete confidence that was very different from the suppressed energy that Jim had always projected. “Well doctor, what is this about?”
Leonard waved him into a chair. “It’s about the cat, sir.”
“Dr McCoy, there are reasons animals are not allowed on board, they are a safety hazard in dangerous situations.”
“Yes, but, sir, Montoya - that’s the cat - he’s Jim’s cat. We can keep him off the bridge but I really don’t think you should get rid of him, sir.”
“I wasn’t aware he was allowed on the bridge to start with. So, why does Mr Kirk get to be the exception of every rule this time?”
“His dad gave his mum a cat for the kids just before he left on his fatal tour on the Kelvin. They’ve kept the line going in the family every since. Montoya is the great-grand whatever of George Kirk’s cat. He’s been with Jim since he joined Starfleet.”
“Very touching, Dr McCoy, but hardly a convincing reason. I’m damn sure pets weren’t allowed in the cadet dorms either.”
Leonard sighed. Clearly he was going to have to bring out the big guns. It had been going to have to happen sometime, so it might as well be now. It wasn’t in the written curriculum of starship medical officers, but it had turned out that there was an entire extra oral component discretely passed to newbie CMOs by their more experienced colleagues. One of the golden rules was that you had to establish your authority with your captain early and often. Never let your captain think he or she has complete control, he’d been told. They have to know you can and will exercise your right to stand them down.
It hadn’t seemed that difficult with Jim, not that he’d managed to control Jim’s wilder excesses, a fact he was a bit ashamed of now given how it had all played out. It was going to be a lot harder with Captain Pike.
“With respect sir, Mr Kirk is suffering from PTSD, which is hardly surprising given Nero and Khan and dying and getting resurrected and all. Put that on top of the general stress of being George Kirk’s son to start with and it’s impressive that he’s functional at all. Now I know PTSD is not unique to Jim--”
At some point Leonard was going to have to have an uncomfortable conversation with Captain Pike about his own mental health and trauma issues, but he didn’t feel he knew the man well enough to go there yet.
“Montoya is good for Jim’s mental health. He provides him with continuity and family and undemanding affection. Now, I could write a pysch evaluation for Jim that would have him grounded right this minute, and it would be truth but it wouldn’t be all the truth. We both know that is not what he needs right now, he needs to be up here in the black under your guidance. But he also needs support. I’m prepared to write a medical report saying that cat is essential to his mental health. I’m prepared to argue it in the face of the Surgeon-General herself.”
He looked Pike steadily in the eye and waited. He'd bow to no-one when it came to his professional medical opinion.
“Oh hell, alright,” conceded Pike. “Keep the damn cat in his private quarters and we’ll consider him a medical necessity. But you're going to do something for me in return for that favor, McCoy. I want to know what other animals are illegally onboard. With this crew and Kirk’s lax discipline, I bet there are more.”
McCoy considered carefully, start with the easy one first. “Well sir, Spock and Nyota do have a miniature sehlat.”
“A what? Aren’t they horribly endangered?”
“Yes sir. It was a gift to Spock from his father. I don’t know if you know this, but miniature sehlats were specifically bred for Vulcans who were going to be traveling away from their home planet. Sehlats and Vulcans share a weak mental bond, the mental bonds between Vulcans are very important to their wellbeing and it was found that being away from the heart of their tribe was highly stressful. Of course, now that most Vulcans are dead every survivor suffers that stress, and the likes of Spock who are away from New Vulcan even more so. So the sehlat-”
“Is a medical necessity for Spock’s health,” interrupted Pike, sounding exasperated. “Yes, yes, alright, but that is the last time you get to use that excuse, McCoy. What else is on board?”
“Well sir, Sulu does have a Andorian salamander but it lives in botany in our bio-fields so I think it can just be considered part of the general fauna and flora of the science division.”
“Fine, we’ll ignore that. Are there any more?”
Leonard hesitated. This one was a good deal trickier. “Okay, this one is not so much a medical necessity as a refugee.”
“A refugee? Do tell,” said Pike sarcastically.
“Um... yes, well,” McCoy took a deep breath. This one was going to be awkward but if he didn’t get it right, his supply of booze was likely to dry up post-haste and that would be a tragedy. “We do have Admiral Archer’s beagle on board.”
“We have what?!”
“It’s no-one’s fault, sir. We were beaming back from another cock-up of an away mission and she just materialized on the transporter platform. She trotted off behind Scotty without batting an eyelid and she been living happily in engineering ever since. She’s become a bit of a mascot for the engine crews. And you know what it’s like, sir, you really don’t want to make the engine crews unhappy. What with the regrettable passing of Admiral Archer, it wasn’t as if she had a home to go to.”
“Goddammit, fine, in respect for the memory of Jonathan Archer, we’ll leave the engine crews alone. Anybody else? Does Chekov have a ferret in his cabin by any chance?”
“No sir, Pavel doesn’t have a pet, if he needs comfort in the night, he finds it with a long string of female crew members.”
“What, little Chekov? He doesn’t look like he’s shaving yet.”
“It is one the mysteries of the universe, sir, but he steadily working with way through most of the crew, while managing to stay friends with all of them afterwards. No one knows how he does it. Jim was really hoping he might get somewhere with Carol Marcus, but once Pavel made his move, he didn’t have a hope.”
“Right, the less said about that the better. Any more pets?”
“No sir, that’s it.”
“You’re quite sure?”
“Yes sir, absolutely.”
“So what’s this?” Pike reached down under the desk and picked up the box that contained Trouble, who cooed happily in anticipation of attention.
“She’s not a pet, sir, she’s a medical tool. That’s the tribble we tested Khan’s blood on.”
“Not a pet? That’s why she has a custom-made box, a red velvet cushion and what looks like the best of the salad from today’s lunch?”
“We may still use animals in medical experiments sir, but that is no reason not to treat them with the utmost respect.”
“Hmmmm. So this tribble, it sleeps in a cage in the sick-bay, does it?” Pike regarded Leonard with a skeptical eye.
Leonard considered whether he could get away with lying. Perhaps safest not to. “I’m sure I have a right not to incriminate myself, sir.”
After a moment Pike began to chuckle. “Forget Nero and Khan, you lot are going to be the death of me. So, Doctor McCoy, given how accommodating I’ve been and what long tough day I’ve had, do you have any other contraband to hand?”
The stick and the carrot, that was the secret with keeping a captain under control. McCoy had got his own way with all the pets, now it was time to take a risk to be helpful. “I might have rather fine bottle of Romulan ale.”
“Romulan ale?” Pike raised an eyebrow. “Which just happens to be illegal in Federation space, it is so strong.”
“Well, yes, but it mixes beautifully with soda, sir and this is a 2213 vintage. That was a particularly fine year.”
“Pour me a double, I damn well deserve it.”
Leonard poured a shot for each of them and passed Pike’s across. “If it’s any help sir, should you ever need any ammunition with which to embarrass Spock, his miniature sehlat is called Princess Daisy.”
* * *
Leonard was at his desk browsing through the latest medical journals, while tickling Trouble’s ears. She was sitting comfortably on top of the padd containing the Journal of the Terran Medical Association, which Leonard thought was entirely appropriate. That journal was so full of poorly researched pompous opinions that serving as a warming pad for a tribble’s ass was about all it was good for.
A message pinged in his private media account, sent from Nyota’s personal address. The header read: Result! We owe you.
He opened the message with a wave of his hand and started to laugh when he saw the contents. It was a photograph, judging from the angle probably taken surreptitiously by Chekov. Captain Pike was sitting in the command chair, a padd in his right hand, reading whatever it was that captain-types needed to read. With his left hand he was stroking Montoya, who was curled up comfortably in his lap. In the background Leonard could just make out Jim, looking thoroughly put-out. Apparently once a captain’s cat, always a captain’s cat.
Leonard continued to consider the photograph. Pike looked far more relaxed than he had in the first week after launch. He was a remarkably attractive man and Leonard found himself envying Montoya. Being seated on Captain Pike’s lap seemed like really rather a good idea. Leonard had another bottle of that 2213 Romulan ale stashed away. Could Pike be persuaded to come and share it with him in the privacy of his cabin?
Of course, he’d have to get Trouble off the bed first.
- THE END -
Pairing: gen, (with a hint of Pike/McCoy)
Rating/genre: gen humour
Warnings: AU riffing off STID, summary below the cut to avoid spoilers
Word count: about 2500
Summary: When newly-appointed Captain Pike points out that animals are not actually allowed on board, it is somehow up to Dr McCoy to sort it out.
The senior crew stood rather nervously in the conference room, ready for the first senior staff meeting since lift-off under their new captain. Everyone knew that new regime was likely to be very different from the old one, and everyone was carefully not watching Jim. Leonard glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eye, the young man appeared very serious and very professional, and very determined not to look hurt by his demotion.
Standing next to Jim was Spock, that had been another surprise. Their erstwhile first officer had turned down his transfer to the USS Bradbury as first officer under Captain Abbott, instead petitioning to remain on the Enterprise as chief science officer. The two of them were apparently closer than ever and Leonard was glad to see it, he was largely over his jealousy of Jim’s and Spock’s famously destined friendship and was simply glad to see Jim getting support at this difficult moment in his life.
Nyota seemed happy enough, as a stickler for rules he suspected she’d be happier without Jim’s laissez-faire approach. And Scotty was positively beaming, apparently an ship free of Section 31 photon torpedoes on-board was all he needed to be content.
Everyone snapped to attention as Captain Pike entered the room. Leonard had to admit that with Jim as captain, he’d always felt as if he was part of an out-of-control holiday in space with a bunch of his friends. With Captain Pike in charge, for the first time he felt the full weight of his duty as a Starfleet officer.
“Now, things are always rather different with a new captain,” started Pike, “so I’m going to run you through how I implement certain procedures-- What the hell is that?”
Leonard, along with everyone else in the room, looked down to where a long-haired black cat with white patches on his nose and his flanks was happily winding his way between Pike’s legs.
“It’s a cat, sir,” offered Spock.
“I can see that,” snapped Pike. “Who’s cat is it?”
Every single one of them stared straight ahead, not meeting their captain’s eye.
“Well, your loyalty to each other is commendable, but I am sure you know that animals are not allowed on board an operational starship, so I want that cat removed next time we dock. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes sir,” they all chorused, as the cat jumped up onto a conference room chair and curled up comfortably, unconcerned about his order of expulsion. Leonard noted with concern how subdued Jim’s reply was.
He was still wondering what to do about it when Nyota sidled up behind him. Pike was busy with some matters primarily of concern to Jim and Spock and she took advantage of the distraction to hiss in his ear, “Leonard, you have to sort it out!”
“Why me?” he whispered back.
“Because Jim obviously can’t do it, he has to behave himself. And Spock’s not going to manage an appeal to Pike’s better nature. So heaven help us but it’s going to have to be you. You know it’s not just about the cat.”
“Those are the rules Nyota, what am I supposed to do about it?” he hissed.
“Don’t think you get to wriggle out of this. If our sehlat goes, Trouble goes too. I’ll make sure of it. Now sort it out!”
“Something you two would like to share with the class?” asked Pike dryly and they both hastily turned back to face their captain.
How the hell was he going to get them out of this one? Nyota did not make idle threats, but he could hardly cuff Pike on the back of the head and call him an idiot, the way he had with Jim. By the time the meeting was at an end, Leonard had come up with a possible plan. He stayed behind as the others left. “Sir, just one more thing.”
“Yes, Dr McCoy.”
“I’d like to brief you on some details concerning the wellbeing of certain crew members. Could you come down to my office later?”
* * *
Leonard waited nervously for Captain Pike to arrive, he hoped this would work, he really didn’t want to give up Trouble. Speaking of which, it probably wouldn’t help his cause to have him sitting quite so blatantly on his desk. He grabbed Trouble’s box and pushed it under the desk.
Pike strolled in with an air of complete confidence that was very different from the suppressed energy that Jim had always projected. “Well doctor, what is this about?”
Leonard waved him into a chair. “It’s about the cat, sir.”
“Dr McCoy, there are reasons animals are not allowed on board, they are a safety hazard in dangerous situations.”
“Yes, but, sir, Montoya - that’s the cat - he’s Jim’s cat. We can keep him off the bridge but I really don’t think you should get rid of him, sir.”
“I wasn’t aware he was allowed on the bridge to start with. So, why does Mr Kirk get to be the exception of every rule this time?”
“His dad gave his mum a cat for the kids just before he left on his fatal tour on the Kelvin. They’ve kept the line going in the family every since. Montoya is the great-grand whatever of George Kirk’s cat. He’s been with Jim since he joined Starfleet.”
“Very touching, Dr McCoy, but hardly a convincing reason. I’m damn sure pets weren’t allowed in the cadet dorms either.”
Leonard sighed. Clearly he was going to have to bring out the big guns. It had been going to have to happen sometime, so it might as well be now. It wasn’t in the written curriculum of starship medical officers, but it had turned out that there was an entire extra oral component discretely passed to newbie CMOs by their more experienced colleagues. One of the golden rules was that you had to establish your authority with your captain early and often. Never let your captain think he or she has complete control, he’d been told. They have to know you can and will exercise your right to stand them down.
It hadn’t seemed that difficult with Jim, not that he’d managed to control Jim’s wilder excesses, a fact he was a bit ashamed of now given how it had all played out. It was going to be a lot harder with Captain Pike.
“With respect sir, Mr Kirk is suffering from PTSD, which is hardly surprising given Nero and Khan and dying and getting resurrected and all. Put that on top of the general stress of being George Kirk’s son to start with and it’s impressive that he’s functional at all. Now I know PTSD is not unique to Jim--”
At some point Leonard was going to have to have an uncomfortable conversation with Captain Pike about his own mental health and trauma issues, but he didn’t feel he knew the man well enough to go there yet.
“Montoya is good for Jim’s mental health. He provides him with continuity and family and undemanding affection. Now, I could write a pysch evaluation for Jim that would have him grounded right this minute, and it would be truth but it wouldn’t be all the truth. We both know that is not what he needs right now, he needs to be up here in the black under your guidance. But he also needs support. I’m prepared to write a medical report saying that cat is essential to his mental health. I’m prepared to argue it in the face of the Surgeon-General herself.”
He looked Pike steadily in the eye and waited. He'd bow to no-one when it came to his professional medical opinion.
“Oh hell, alright,” conceded Pike. “Keep the damn cat in his private quarters and we’ll consider him a medical necessity. But you're going to do something for me in return for that favor, McCoy. I want to know what other animals are illegally onboard. With this crew and Kirk’s lax discipline, I bet there are more.”
McCoy considered carefully, start with the easy one first. “Well sir, Spock and Nyota do have a miniature sehlat.”
“A what? Aren’t they horribly endangered?”
“Yes sir. It was a gift to Spock from his father. I don’t know if you know this, but miniature sehlats were specifically bred for Vulcans who were going to be traveling away from their home planet. Sehlats and Vulcans share a weak mental bond, the mental bonds between Vulcans are very important to their wellbeing and it was found that being away from the heart of their tribe was highly stressful. Of course, now that most Vulcans are dead every survivor suffers that stress, and the likes of Spock who are away from New Vulcan even more so. So the sehlat-”
“Is a medical necessity for Spock’s health,” interrupted Pike, sounding exasperated. “Yes, yes, alright, but that is the last time you get to use that excuse, McCoy. What else is on board?”
“Well sir, Sulu does have a Andorian salamander but it lives in botany in our bio-fields so I think it can just be considered part of the general fauna and flora of the science division.”
“Fine, we’ll ignore that. Are there any more?”
Leonard hesitated. This one was a good deal trickier. “Okay, this one is not so much a medical necessity as a refugee.”
“A refugee? Do tell,” said Pike sarcastically.
“Um... yes, well,” McCoy took a deep breath. This one was going to be awkward but if he didn’t get it right, his supply of booze was likely to dry up post-haste and that would be a tragedy. “We do have Admiral Archer’s beagle on board.”
“We have what?!”
“It’s no-one’s fault, sir. We were beaming back from another cock-up of an away mission and she just materialized on the transporter platform. She trotted off behind Scotty without batting an eyelid and she been living happily in engineering ever since. She’s become a bit of a mascot for the engine crews. And you know what it’s like, sir, you really don’t want to make the engine crews unhappy. What with the regrettable passing of Admiral Archer, it wasn’t as if she had a home to go to.”
“Goddammit, fine, in respect for the memory of Jonathan Archer, we’ll leave the engine crews alone. Anybody else? Does Chekov have a ferret in his cabin by any chance?”
“No sir, Pavel doesn’t have a pet, if he needs comfort in the night, he finds it with a long string of female crew members.”
“What, little Chekov? He doesn’t look like he’s shaving yet.”
“It is one the mysteries of the universe, sir, but he steadily working with way through most of the crew, while managing to stay friends with all of them afterwards. No one knows how he does it. Jim was really hoping he might get somewhere with Carol Marcus, but once Pavel made his move, he didn’t have a hope.”
“Right, the less said about that the better. Any more pets?”
“No sir, that’s it.”
“You’re quite sure?”
“Yes sir, absolutely.”
“So what’s this?” Pike reached down under the desk and picked up the box that contained Trouble, who cooed happily in anticipation of attention.
“She’s not a pet, sir, she’s a medical tool. That’s the tribble we tested Khan’s blood on.”
“Not a pet? That’s why she has a custom-made box, a red velvet cushion and what looks like the best of the salad from today’s lunch?”
“We may still use animals in medical experiments sir, but that is no reason not to treat them with the utmost respect.”
“Hmmmm. So this tribble, it sleeps in a cage in the sick-bay, does it?” Pike regarded Leonard with a skeptical eye.
Leonard considered whether he could get away with lying. Perhaps safest not to. “I’m sure I have a right not to incriminate myself, sir.”
After a moment Pike began to chuckle. “Forget Nero and Khan, you lot are going to be the death of me. So, Doctor McCoy, given how accommodating I’ve been and what long tough day I’ve had, do you have any other contraband to hand?”
The stick and the carrot, that was the secret with keeping a captain under control. McCoy had got his own way with all the pets, now it was time to take a risk to be helpful. “I might have rather fine bottle of Romulan ale.”
“Romulan ale?” Pike raised an eyebrow. “Which just happens to be illegal in Federation space, it is so strong.”
“Well, yes, but it mixes beautifully with soda, sir and this is a 2213 vintage. That was a particularly fine year.”
“Pour me a double, I damn well deserve it.”
Leonard poured a shot for each of them and passed Pike’s across. “If it’s any help sir, should you ever need any ammunition with which to embarrass Spock, his miniature sehlat is called Princess Daisy.”
* * *
Leonard was at his desk browsing through the latest medical journals, while tickling Trouble’s ears. She was sitting comfortably on top of the padd containing the Journal of the Terran Medical Association, which Leonard thought was entirely appropriate. That journal was so full of poorly researched pompous opinions that serving as a warming pad for a tribble’s ass was about all it was good for.
A message pinged in his private media account, sent from Nyota’s personal address. The header read: Result! We owe you.
He opened the message with a wave of his hand and started to laugh when he saw the contents. It was a photograph, judging from the angle probably taken surreptitiously by Chekov. Captain Pike was sitting in the command chair, a padd in his right hand, reading whatever it was that captain-types needed to read. With his left hand he was stroking Montoya, who was curled up comfortably in his lap. In the background Leonard could just make out Jim, looking thoroughly put-out. Apparently once a captain’s cat, always a captain’s cat.
Leonard continued to consider the photograph. Pike looked far more relaxed than he had in the first week after launch. He was a remarkably attractive man and Leonard found himself envying Montoya. Being seated on Captain Pike’s lap seemed like really rather a good idea. Leonard had another bottle of that 2213 Romulan ale stashed away. Could Pike be persuaded to come and share it with him in the privacy of his cabin?
Of course, he’d have to get Trouble off the bed first.
- THE END -