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radiobroadcast, on the occasion of her birthday. My first Star Trek fic. HEY MOM LOOK IT ONLY TOOK ME 33 YEARS.
Title: One Time When Kirk Thought Pon Farr Was a Cliché (Star Trek XI)
Author:moony
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Kirk/Spock-ish, with special guest cameo, Scotty. Pre-slash?
Summary: “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Spock,” said Kirk quickly. “I mean, it’s a biological urge, right? Involuntary? You can’t help it. You’re like a- Like a salmon that has to swim back to the pond where it was born so it can lay eggs. Except you’re not a fish, and I’m pretty sure Vulcans don’t lay eggs. But you know what I mean, right?”
Disclaimer: I don't own shit.
AN: This is an extremely silly little one-shot. I askedradiobroadcast for her favorite ST fanfiction clichés, and this was one of them. Completely ridiculous.
Kirk had first heard of pon farr from an old textbook at the Academy. He’d found it in the library, in the climate-controlled room where they kept the ancient texts, the ones printed on paper and bound in the hide of some unfortunate animal. The text had been in High Vulcan, which was tricky but not impossible for Kirk to translate (Uhura wasn’t the only cunning linguist in the Academy, thank you). He’d read it out of curiosity, and because he was bored and he’d read everything else, and then promptly forgot about it because when the hell was he ever going to meet a Vulcan?
Three years later, after he’d forgotten the book in favor of something much more interesting (Bones’s snickerdoodle recipe, all the words to ‘Dancing Queen,’ Hodgkin’s Law of Parallel Planetary Development, Federation regulations, the memory of Uhura in her underwear, the Lorentz invariance in loop quantum gravity), Kirk met his first Vulcan and decided he was an asshole. Two months later that Vulcan became his first officer aboard the freshly-repaired Enterprise. Six months after that, they were friends. And exactly one year after their first encounter, when the Enterprise was three weeks from the nearest starbase and at least a month out from the Vulcan colony planet, Vokau, Kirk remembered reading that book and was immediately concerned that he and his crew were now trapped in outer space with a ticking time bomb named Spock.
Kirk was a tactical genius. He knew how to handle delicate situations, such as negotiations with cranky Klingons and stand-offs with genocidal Romulans, and his tendency to not only think outside the box but set the box on fire and beam it to a distant moon was often the factor that tipped those situations in their favor (most of the time). However as much as he preferred the loud, noisy way out, Kirk also understood that there were times when subtlety was a wiser modus operandi. So instead of sounding the alarm (or telling Bones, which amounted to the same thing), he decided to start watching Spock a little more closely than usual.
It was easy enough to keep an eye on him when they were on the bridge, but Kirk was not prepared for what stalking (monitoring, he was monitoring) Spock after-hours would entail. The man hardly slept, and even though Kirk had stayed awake often enough in xenobiology to know that Vulcans don’t require the same amount of sleep as, say, a human does, it was still mind-boggling that Spock stayed vertical for as long as he did. For the next several hours, Kirk followed him all over the goddamn ship, regretting his decision to not just sound a red alert and chuck Spock out onto the nearest planet (though, unlike some people, he'd at least check and make sure there were no giant red vagina-faced lobster monsters down there, first).
He first found Spock working with the staff in the botanical garden, who were cultivating several Vulcan plants in an effort to preserve their medicinal qualities. After that, Spock went to catalog instrument readings in the high-energy physics lab. A mind-numbing hour later Kirk caught him meditating in the observation lounge, a figure of tranquility surrounded by chaotic space beyond the windows, oblivious to the other people around him. Kirk had never seen someone remain so completely still for so long.
After Kirk woke up (because watching a meditating Vulcan was actually pretty soothing) he quickly caught up with Spock in the chemistry laboratory, attending to some geological specimens (also known as rocks, at least to Kirk, who'd had to carry them) they’d picked up on their last planetary pit-stop. From there it was straight to the firing range, where Spock, at the expense of several smoldering targets, reminded Kirk why he always, always took Spock with him on away missions.
Finally, they both wound up in the officer’s dining mess, where Spock ate neatly from a fruit plate while Scotty chatted about haggis or Loch Ness monsters or whatever it is Scottish people talk about, while Kirk pretended to eat while lurking at a table nearby. By that point he didn’t care if they were plotting mutiny and planning to maroon him on a planet full of Nazis, he was exhausted.
“Captain.”
Kirk opened his eyes and lifted his head from where he'd been resting it atop his chicken sandwich. “Spock?”
Spock was standing over him. He reached over and removed the lettuce stuck to Kirk’s ear. “I wish to know why you have been following me for the last seven hours and fourteen minutes.”
“Er,” said Kirk, demonstrating his innate ability to remain articulate in high-pressure situations. “No reason.”
“I do not believe that to be true,” said Spock. He took a seat in the empty chair across from Kirk. “Are you concerned with how I spend my free time away from the bridge?”
Kirk shook his head. “Not at all.” He scooted back, just a little, just enough to give him a few seconds’ head start, if it came down to that. “I was just… curious.”
“Captain,” said Spock, with the tone of voice one might use to address a spectacularly stupid dog. Kirk knew that tone. His mother, Pike and at least six professors had used it on him, often. Bones used it at least once a day (twice on Sundays). It was not a good tone.
“Okay, okay.” Kirk ran a hand through his hair and glanced around nervously, then leaned forward. “I know about your little … problem.”
Spock blinked. “Problem.”
“Yeah,” said Kirk. He dropped his voice to a hoarse whisper. “You know…”
“I do not know.”
Kirk sighed. “Every seven years?” he hedged. When Spock’s eyes widened (too dark to be human, too expressive to be Vulcan) Kirk knew he’d finally caught on. “Yeah, that.”
“You are referring to pon farr,” said Spock, quietly. “I do not know how you have come by this knowledge, Captain-“
“It was in a book,” said Kirk. “I read it back at the Academy.”
“-but I assure you that- You read a book about pon farr in the Academy library?” Spock blinked. “The only books that would contain such information would be written in High Vulcan.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Kirk. He waved a hand impatiently. “I know.”
“You can read Vulcan?” asked Spock. Kirk wasn’t sure if he felt pleased to have surprised him, or annoyed that he had. “I was not aware that you had ever studied the language.”
“Spunau bolayalar t'Wehku bolayalar t'Zamu il t'Veh,” said Kirk with a smile.
“’The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,’” Spock recited, as if on auto-pilot.
“’Or the one,’” finished Kirk. “That's Surak, right? Yeah, I've studied a little Vulcan. Anyway, back to the subject at hand, this pon farr business – did I read it right? Are you really going to go insane if you don’t get laid?”
Spock just stared at him.
“Spock? Come in, Spock.” Kirk leaned over and waved a hand in front of his face, and instinctively Spock batted it away. Kirk smiled. “Still with me? Because I really want to know if I have to initiate a shipwide alert for surprise Vulcan buttsex.”
That got Spock’s attention, and Kirk could see the very tips of his ears turn a faint (yet completely adorable, oh wait until he told Bones) green. “Captain.” Spock closed his eyes, and for a moment Kirk thought he might be counting to ten, or visualizing his happy place, or whatever it is Vulcans did to keep from strangling their captains. Again.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Spock,” said Kirk quickly. “I mean, it’s a biological urge, right? Involuntary? You can’t help it. You’re like a- Like a salmon that has to swim back to the pond where it was born so it can lay eggs. Except you’re not a fish, and I’m pretty sure Vulcans don’t lay eggs. But you know what I mean, right?” He waved his hands as he spoke, growing more anxious every minute Spock sat there, eyes closed, not saying anything. Was Spock even breathing?
Oh God, it was starting.
“Look, Spock, you just say the word, and we’ll do whatever we can to accommodate you. I mean, there’s no shortage of fine-looking women – and a few men – on board who wouldn’t want the opportunity to see what’s under those science blues-“
Spock thumped his hand on the table, effectively silencing Kirk, and opened his eyes. His expression was caught somewhere between indulgent and bemused. “I am in no danger of undergoing pon farr in the near future,” he said evenly. “It will not occur for another five-point-three years, at which time I will already have returned to the colony in preparation, so I ask that you please stop talking, immediately. Captain.”
“Wait, really?” asked Kirk. “Five years? Because I assumed, you know – you being half-human, it might throw off your, uh, cycle?” He ignored the ridiculousness of discussing cycles with Spock. “You know, make it unpredictable?”
“No,” said Spock. “From a biological standpoint I am completely Vulcan. It is the dominant gene. Not to mention that it would be extremely illogical for Vulcans to not have developed a method for predicting the onset of pon farr, so as to prevent any complications it might present.”
“Oh.” Kirk sagged in his chair. “Yeah, that makes sense, I guess.” He was relieved, of course, that Spock was in no danger of going caveman on anyone anytime soon, but there was also an underlying sense of… something, that he couldn’t quite put a name to. “So, we don’t have to get you to Vokau, warp factor ten billion?” he asked.
“Negative, Captain” said Spock. “Not only are the warp engines incapable of such a ludicrous speed, there is no need to return me to the Vulcan colony at the present time.” He studied Kirk intently. “You seem disappointed.”
“Do I?” Kirk didn’t know if he was asking Spock, or himself. “Huh. Maybe a little. I mean, I don’t want you to go insane and die, or anything. I just thought it might be… interesting.”
“Do not worry,” said Spock, as he rose from his seat. “When I enter into pon farr, Jim, you will be the first to know.”
He left, and Kirk could only stare after him. He made a mental note to mark his calendar, five-point-three years from now.
- end -
radiobroadcast, on the occasion of her birthday. My first Star Trek fic. HEY MOM LOOK IT ONLY TOOK ME 33 YEARS.Title: One Time When Kirk Thought Pon Farr Was a Cliché (Star Trek XI)
Author:
moonyRating: PG-13
Characters: Kirk/Spock-ish, with special guest cameo, Scotty. Pre-slash?
Summary: “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Spock,” said Kirk quickly. “I mean, it’s a biological urge, right? Involuntary? You can’t help it. You’re like a- Like a salmon that has to swim back to the pond where it was born so it can lay eggs. Except you’re not a fish, and I’m pretty sure Vulcans don’t lay eggs. But you know what I mean, right?”
Disclaimer: I don't own shit.
AN: This is an extremely silly little one-shot. I asked
radiobroadcast for her favorite ST fanfiction clichés, and this was one of them. Completely ridiculous.Kirk had first heard of pon farr from an old textbook at the Academy. He’d found it in the library, in the climate-controlled room where they kept the ancient texts, the ones printed on paper and bound in the hide of some unfortunate animal. The text had been in High Vulcan, which was tricky but not impossible for Kirk to translate (Uhura wasn’t the only cunning linguist in the Academy, thank you). He’d read it out of curiosity, and because he was bored and he’d read everything else, and then promptly forgot about it because when the hell was he ever going to meet a Vulcan?
Three years later, after he’d forgotten the book in favor of something much more interesting (Bones’s snickerdoodle recipe, all the words to ‘Dancing Queen,’ Hodgkin’s Law of Parallel Planetary Development, Federation regulations, the memory of Uhura in her underwear, the Lorentz invariance in loop quantum gravity), Kirk met his first Vulcan and decided he was an asshole. Two months later that Vulcan became his first officer aboard the freshly-repaired Enterprise. Six months after that, they were friends. And exactly one year after their first encounter, when the Enterprise was three weeks from the nearest starbase and at least a month out from the Vulcan colony planet, Vokau, Kirk remembered reading that book and was immediately concerned that he and his crew were now trapped in outer space with a ticking time bomb named Spock.
Kirk was a tactical genius. He knew how to handle delicate situations, such as negotiations with cranky Klingons and stand-offs with genocidal Romulans, and his tendency to not only think outside the box but set the box on fire and beam it to a distant moon was often the factor that tipped those situations in their favor (most of the time). However as much as he preferred the loud, noisy way out, Kirk also understood that there were times when subtlety was a wiser modus operandi. So instead of sounding the alarm (or telling Bones, which amounted to the same thing), he decided to start watching Spock a little more closely than usual.
It was easy enough to keep an eye on him when they were on the bridge, but Kirk was not prepared for what stalking (monitoring, he was monitoring) Spock after-hours would entail. The man hardly slept, and even though Kirk had stayed awake often enough in xenobiology to know that Vulcans don’t require the same amount of sleep as, say, a human does, it was still mind-boggling that Spock stayed vertical for as long as he did. For the next several hours, Kirk followed him all over the goddamn ship, regretting his decision to not just sound a red alert and chuck Spock out onto the nearest planet (though, unlike some people, he'd at least check and make sure there were no giant red vagina-faced lobster monsters down there, first).
He first found Spock working with the staff in the botanical garden, who were cultivating several Vulcan plants in an effort to preserve their medicinal qualities. After that, Spock went to catalog instrument readings in the high-energy physics lab. A mind-numbing hour later Kirk caught him meditating in the observation lounge, a figure of tranquility surrounded by chaotic space beyond the windows, oblivious to the other people around him. Kirk had never seen someone remain so completely still for so long.
After Kirk woke up (because watching a meditating Vulcan was actually pretty soothing) he quickly caught up with Spock in the chemistry laboratory, attending to some geological specimens (also known as rocks, at least to Kirk, who'd had to carry them) they’d picked up on their last planetary pit-stop. From there it was straight to the firing range, where Spock, at the expense of several smoldering targets, reminded Kirk why he always, always took Spock with him on away missions.
Finally, they both wound up in the officer’s dining mess, where Spock ate neatly from a fruit plate while Scotty chatted about haggis or Loch Ness monsters or whatever it is Scottish people talk about, while Kirk pretended to eat while lurking at a table nearby. By that point he didn’t care if they were plotting mutiny and planning to maroon him on a planet full of Nazis, he was exhausted.
“Captain.”
Kirk opened his eyes and lifted his head from where he'd been resting it atop his chicken sandwich. “Spock?”
Spock was standing over him. He reached over and removed the lettuce stuck to Kirk’s ear. “I wish to know why you have been following me for the last seven hours and fourteen minutes.”
“Er,” said Kirk, demonstrating his innate ability to remain articulate in high-pressure situations. “No reason.”
“I do not believe that to be true,” said Spock. He took a seat in the empty chair across from Kirk. “Are you concerned with how I spend my free time away from the bridge?”
Kirk shook his head. “Not at all.” He scooted back, just a little, just enough to give him a few seconds’ head start, if it came down to that. “I was just… curious.”
“Captain,” said Spock, with the tone of voice one might use to address a spectacularly stupid dog. Kirk knew that tone. His mother, Pike and at least six professors had used it on him, often. Bones used it at least once a day (twice on Sundays). It was not a good tone.
“Okay, okay.” Kirk ran a hand through his hair and glanced around nervously, then leaned forward. “I know about your little … problem.”
Spock blinked. “Problem.”
“Yeah,” said Kirk. He dropped his voice to a hoarse whisper. “You know…”
“I do not know.”
Kirk sighed. “Every seven years?” he hedged. When Spock’s eyes widened (too dark to be human, too expressive to be Vulcan) Kirk knew he’d finally caught on. “Yeah, that.”
“You are referring to pon farr,” said Spock, quietly. “I do not know how you have come by this knowledge, Captain-“
“It was in a book,” said Kirk. “I read it back at the Academy.”
“-but I assure you that- You read a book about pon farr in the Academy library?” Spock blinked. “The only books that would contain such information would be written in High Vulcan.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Kirk. He waved a hand impatiently. “I know.”
“You can read Vulcan?” asked Spock. Kirk wasn’t sure if he felt pleased to have surprised him, or annoyed that he had. “I was not aware that you had ever studied the language.”
“Spunau bolayalar t'Wehku bolayalar t'Zamu il t'Veh,” said Kirk with a smile.
“’The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,’” Spock recited, as if on auto-pilot.
“’Or the one,’” finished Kirk. “That's Surak, right? Yeah, I've studied a little Vulcan. Anyway, back to the subject at hand, this pon farr business – did I read it right? Are you really going to go insane if you don’t get laid?”
Spock just stared at him.
“Spock? Come in, Spock.” Kirk leaned over and waved a hand in front of his face, and instinctively Spock batted it away. Kirk smiled. “Still with me? Because I really want to know if I have to initiate a shipwide alert for surprise Vulcan buttsex.”
That got Spock’s attention, and Kirk could see the very tips of his ears turn a faint (yet completely adorable, oh wait until he told Bones) green. “Captain.” Spock closed his eyes, and for a moment Kirk thought he might be counting to ten, or visualizing his happy place, or whatever it is Vulcans did to keep from strangling their captains. Again.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Spock,” said Kirk quickly. “I mean, it’s a biological urge, right? Involuntary? You can’t help it. You’re like a- Like a salmon that has to swim back to the pond where it was born so it can lay eggs. Except you’re not a fish, and I’m pretty sure Vulcans don’t lay eggs. But you know what I mean, right?” He waved his hands as he spoke, growing more anxious every minute Spock sat there, eyes closed, not saying anything. Was Spock even breathing?
Oh God, it was starting.
“Look, Spock, you just say the word, and we’ll do whatever we can to accommodate you. I mean, there’s no shortage of fine-looking women – and a few men – on board who wouldn’t want the opportunity to see what’s under those science blues-“
Spock thumped his hand on the table, effectively silencing Kirk, and opened his eyes. His expression was caught somewhere between indulgent and bemused. “I am in no danger of undergoing pon farr in the near future,” he said evenly. “It will not occur for another five-point-three years, at which time I will already have returned to the colony in preparation, so I ask that you please stop talking, immediately. Captain.”
“Wait, really?” asked Kirk. “Five years? Because I assumed, you know – you being half-human, it might throw off your, uh, cycle?” He ignored the ridiculousness of discussing cycles with Spock. “You know, make it unpredictable?”
“No,” said Spock. “From a biological standpoint I am completely Vulcan. It is the dominant gene. Not to mention that it would be extremely illogical for Vulcans to not have developed a method for predicting the onset of pon farr, so as to prevent any complications it might present.”
“Oh.” Kirk sagged in his chair. “Yeah, that makes sense, I guess.” He was relieved, of course, that Spock was in no danger of going caveman on anyone anytime soon, but there was also an underlying sense of… something, that he couldn’t quite put a name to. “So, we don’t have to get you to Vokau, warp factor ten billion?” he asked.
“Negative, Captain” said Spock. “Not only are the warp engines incapable of such a ludicrous speed, there is no need to return me to the Vulcan colony at the present time.” He studied Kirk intently. “You seem disappointed.”
“Do I?” Kirk didn’t know if he was asking Spock, or himself. “Huh. Maybe a little. I mean, I don’t want you to go insane and die, or anything. I just thought it might be… interesting.”
“Do not worry,” said Spock, as he rose from his seat. “When I enter into pon farr, Jim, you will be the first to know.”
He left, and Kirk could only stare after him. He made a mental note to mark his calendar, five-point-three years from now.
- end -
