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chaletianTitle: Raise More Hell And Fewer Dahlias
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chaletian
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Summary: Village!verse. “You ever wonder,” Jim says, “what women talk about when it’s just them?”
“And then,” Jim finishes triumphantly, “the Prefect gave me that statue and said I was an honorary member of his family!”
They look at the statue. It’s ugly. Bones takes a swig of Scotch.
“Great story, Jim,” he says.
Jim smiles happily. “Yeah. Man, I loved that planet.”
“It was an informative experience,” says Spock, standing up. “If you will excuse me, Captain, I will return to my quarters.”
Jim waggles his eyebrows. (He figures he and Spock have been crewmates – friends – long enough now that he can get away with some eyebrow waggling.) “You and Uhura got plans?” he asks.
Spock raises an eyebrow (doesn’t waggle it; Jim thinks his first officer might be missing a trick there). “Lt Uhura is socialising with friends this evening. Female friends. I have an early shift tomorrow.”
Jim frowns. “You ever wonder,” he says, “what women talk about when it’s just them?”
oOo
“Us,” says Sulu, knocking back his drink. “Totally us.”
“Is right,” agrees Chekov, pointing a finger at Sulu. “Boys. Boys and sex. I know this,” he says, lowering his voice confidentially. “I have sisters.”
Lewis looks unconvinced. “I don’t know, guys. It can’t just be about men. I mean, they’re just people. They must talk about regular stuff.”
Both Sulu and Chekov are shaking their heads. “No way,” says Sulu. “It’s us.”
oOo
“Hikaru Sulu is an asshole,” says Bridgerton, flinging herself into one of the seats in the mess.
“Whatever,” says Dawson. “Did you hear the news from Earth?”
“About Annalisa Lipkin running? Uh-huh. How awesome is that? I love her.”
“She’s great,” agrees Dawson. “Did you hear her speech, about, y’know, integration and trying to balance the Federation and Starfleet?”
“What, Lipkin’s?” asks Uhura, coming up behind them. At Dawson’s nod, she appropriates a chair for herself. “I thought it was great. Starfleet is so Human-dominated it’s ridiculous. And she’s standing against Melody Hammond.”
“Anyone who can get that woman out of the Senate is fine by me,” says Bridgerton. “Did you hear that speech she gave last year about colonists’ rights?” She sighs. “When I heard that, I just wished it could be me and her and a locked room and this sword.” She pats her fencing foil and smiles wistfully. Uhura and Dawson grin.
“As well you didn’t get that chance,” points out Uhura. “She’s not exactly known for being kind to her enemies.”
Bridgerton grins sharply. “Oh, neither am I, Lieutenant. Neither am I.”
oOo
“Well,” concedes Sulu, “maybe just about sex, sometimes. I mean, everyone talks about sex, right?”
“I’ve never actually found that to be true,” says Lewis, who doesn’t really talk about sex much at all.
oOo
“It was disgusting,” says Gaila. “Actually disgusting. I mean, it stuck out, like, to there, and it was covered in all these… sort of pustules. Gross.”
Her companions look at her. “Ew,” says Henderson eventually.
“So, what did you do?” demands Bridgerton.
Gaila rolls her eyes like they’re all stupid. “Well, what do you think? I mean, I had to touch it. It’s not like I had a choice.”
“Jesus,” says Henderson, “the things we have to do for that guy.”
They all nod. They’ve all been there. “Anyway,” continues Gaila, “turns out that their whole power plant was, like, organically powered…”
“Pretty cool,” interrupts Bridgerton.
“…and all those weird viney things had gotten tangled, so Scotty and I re-routed them – sorta – and got it working again.”
“So, how’d the organic thing work?” asks Bridgerton, and Gaila slides her chair over to a screen, and starts sketching a diagram, while the other two lean over her shoulder.
oOo
“De-win-itely sex,” says Chekov, nodding happily, pouring another drink. “In fact, I bet you a-ny-zing you like my girlfriend is talking about sex right now.”
“Dude,” says Sulu.
“Jeez,” says Lewis, and sighs a little.
oOo
“He’s cute.”
“He’s a psychopath.”
“He’s a cute psychopath.”
“He’s a cute psychopath who kills – or, OK, it seems like he kills, but it’s kinda hard to tell – about twenty people in a day.”
“At least you agree he’s cute.”
Miya shakes her head at her fellow ensign. “Seriously, Amy, he’s not that cute.”
Amy Travis just shrugs. “Whatever. I think he’s gorgeous. Way better than the rest of that film.”
“I’m not sure it can even be called a film,” says Miya thoughtfully. “Surely they invented that whole genre just to torture people. Was there anyone who wasn’t wearing beige?”
“I think a couple of people were in cream,” says Travis. “I mean, what was the big idea behind that whole thing anyway?”
“I dunno,” says Miya. “I think I read somewhere that some director felt that there was too much, y’know, action and distraction in films, and it took away from what he thought was the most important part, which was just the relationships between people. So he thought he’d make a film where it was just the people and the emotion, and none of the other stuff. And ‘other stuff’ included, y’know, a script and words and costumes and, um, plot. And thus was born the abstract emotionalism movement.”
They’re silent for a moment. The Captain’s film choice still looms large in their minds: four hours of their lives they will never get back. Finally, Travis speaks.
“Someone should have killed that director. We should totally build a time machine and do it ourselves.”
“We should totally get on that,” agrees Miya.
oOo
“Come on,” says Lewis. “I don’t buy it. I mean, sure, I guess they talk about sex and stuff, but no more than we do.” He glances at his companions. They’re both quite drunk. “Probably less than you, actually.”
“Oh, I totally know,” says Sulu unexpectedly. “It’s just… they’re women, you know. They’re different. They always seem to get us, and we never get them.”
“What’s going on with you and Bridgerton?” asks Chekov, attempting to straighten up slightly.
Sulu sighs, and pokes at his drink. “Nothing. I mean, I sorta avoided her for a while, because, y’know, awkward, and now I’m pretty sure she’s not interested.”
“You,” announces Chekov, pointing again, “are an idiot.”
Sulu nods sadly. “Yeah.” He puts his glass down. “C’mon. We should hit the rack.”
oOo
“I hate her,” says Christine Chapel, glaring at Uhura’s retreating back as it disappears out of the mess.
“Chris,” says Rand, nudging her shoulder, “seriously, don’t go there.”
Chapel flops back in her seat. “I just—he’s—” She breaks off, and Rand looks away.
“Hey,” Rand says after a minute or two, “budget memo time soon. McCoy ready?”
Chapel chuckles. “Oh my God, are you kidding me? What is it with people and that stupid memo? I swear he spends half the year preparing a list of what he wants and the other half bitching when he doesn’t get it.”
Rand grins. “I love memo time. Hey, remember that time Security locked Winters in a cupboard for about a week?”
“Yeah.” Chapel sighs, and stands up. “Look, Jan, I appreciate it, but I think I’m just gonna go to bed, OK?” She laughs, a little wryly. “Unrequited love kinda takes it out of you.”
“Right,” says Rand, and watches as the nurse walks away. “Right.”
oOo
“Hey,” says Jim, “I’ve always wondered. What do women talk about among themselves?”
Rand looks up, startled. “Um, the same things as men, I guess.”
Jim nods. “Sex, right?”
She stares for a moment, then nods slowly. “Yes, Captain. Hot, sweaty, steamy, kinky sex. All the time. A-a-a-all the time.”
Now he’s staring. “Um. Really?”
“No,” says Rand, rolling her eyes and shoving a padd at him. “Not really. Sign this.”
“You’re a hard woman, Yeoman,” says Jim, and scribbles his signature.
“And you couldn’t live without me,” returns Rand, moving to the desk to collect her files. Jim watches her.
“Yeah,” he says, “I know. Women, huh?”
She turns and snatches back the padd. “Men, huh?”
They’re standing face to face, and there’s a moment’s lull.
“Right,” says Jim.
“Right,” says Rand.
“I’m gonna…”
“You should…”
She leaves, and Jim watches the door swoosh closed. “Jesus,” he says. “Why can’t we all be hermaphrodites?”
THE END
Author:
chaletianFandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Summary: Village!verse. “You ever wonder,” Jim says, “what women talk about when it’s just them?”
“And then,” Jim finishes triumphantly, “the Prefect gave me that statue and said I was an honorary member of his family!”
They look at the statue. It’s ugly. Bones takes a swig of Scotch.
“Great story, Jim,” he says.
Jim smiles happily. “Yeah. Man, I loved that planet.”
“It was an informative experience,” says Spock, standing up. “If you will excuse me, Captain, I will return to my quarters.”
Jim waggles his eyebrows. (He figures he and Spock have been crewmates – friends – long enough now that he can get away with some eyebrow waggling.) “You and Uhura got plans?” he asks.
Spock raises an eyebrow (doesn’t waggle it; Jim thinks his first officer might be missing a trick there). “Lt Uhura is socialising with friends this evening. Female friends. I have an early shift tomorrow.”
Jim frowns. “You ever wonder,” he says, “what women talk about when it’s just them?”
“Us,” says Sulu, knocking back his drink. “Totally us.”
“Is right,” agrees Chekov, pointing a finger at Sulu. “Boys. Boys and sex. I know this,” he says, lowering his voice confidentially. “I have sisters.”
Lewis looks unconvinced. “I don’t know, guys. It can’t just be about men. I mean, they’re just people. They must talk about regular stuff.”
Both Sulu and Chekov are shaking their heads. “No way,” says Sulu. “It’s us.”
“Hikaru Sulu is an asshole,” says Bridgerton, flinging herself into one of the seats in the mess.
“Whatever,” says Dawson. “Did you hear the news from Earth?”
“About Annalisa Lipkin running? Uh-huh. How awesome is that? I love her.”
“She’s great,” agrees Dawson. “Did you hear her speech, about, y’know, integration and trying to balance the Federation and Starfleet?”
“What, Lipkin’s?” asks Uhura, coming up behind them. At Dawson’s nod, she appropriates a chair for herself. “I thought it was great. Starfleet is so Human-dominated it’s ridiculous. And she’s standing against Melody Hammond.”
“Anyone who can get that woman out of the Senate is fine by me,” says Bridgerton. “Did you hear that speech she gave last year about colonists’ rights?” She sighs. “When I heard that, I just wished it could be me and her and a locked room and this sword.” She pats her fencing foil and smiles wistfully. Uhura and Dawson grin.
“As well you didn’t get that chance,” points out Uhura. “She’s not exactly known for being kind to her enemies.”
Bridgerton grins sharply. “Oh, neither am I, Lieutenant. Neither am I.”
“Well,” concedes Sulu, “maybe just about sex, sometimes. I mean, everyone talks about sex, right?”
“I’ve never actually found that to be true,” says Lewis, who doesn’t really talk about sex much at all.
“It was disgusting,” says Gaila. “Actually disgusting. I mean, it stuck out, like, to there, and it was covered in all these… sort of pustules. Gross.”
Her companions look at her. “Ew,” says Henderson eventually.
“So, what did you do?” demands Bridgerton.
Gaila rolls her eyes like they’re all stupid. “Well, what do you think? I mean, I had to touch it. It’s not like I had a choice.”
“Jesus,” says Henderson, “the things we have to do for that guy.”
They all nod. They’ve all been there. “Anyway,” continues Gaila, “turns out that their whole power plant was, like, organically powered…”
“Pretty cool,” interrupts Bridgerton.
“…and all those weird viney things had gotten tangled, so Scotty and I re-routed them – sorta – and got it working again.”
“So, how’d the organic thing work?” asks Bridgerton, and Gaila slides her chair over to a screen, and starts sketching a diagram, while the other two lean over her shoulder.
“De-win-itely sex,” says Chekov, nodding happily, pouring another drink. “In fact, I bet you a-ny-zing you like my girlfriend is talking about sex right now.”
“Dude,” says Sulu.
“Jeez,” says Lewis, and sighs a little.
“He’s cute.”
“He’s a psychopath.”
“He’s a cute psychopath.”
“He’s a cute psychopath who kills – or, OK, it seems like he kills, but it’s kinda hard to tell – about twenty people in a day.”
“At least you agree he’s cute.”
Miya shakes her head at her fellow ensign. “Seriously, Amy, he’s not that cute.”
Amy Travis just shrugs. “Whatever. I think he’s gorgeous. Way better than the rest of that film.”
“I’m not sure it can even be called a film,” says Miya thoughtfully. “Surely they invented that whole genre just to torture people. Was there anyone who wasn’t wearing beige?”
“I think a couple of people were in cream,” says Travis. “I mean, what was the big idea behind that whole thing anyway?”
“I dunno,” says Miya. “I think I read somewhere that some director felt that there was too much, y’know, action and distraction in films, and it took away from what he thought was the most important part, which was just the relationships between people. So he thought he’d make a film where it was just the people and the emotion, and none of the other stuff. And ‘other stuff’ included, y’know, a script and words and costumes and, um, plot. And thus was born the abstract emotionalism movement.”
They’re silent for a moment. The Captain’s film choice still looms large in their minds: four hours of their lives they will never get back. Finally, Travis speaks.
“Someone should have killed that director. We should totally build a time machine and do it ourselves.”
“We should totally get on that,” agrees Miya.
“Come on,” says Lewis. “I don’t buy it. I mean, sure, I guess they talk about sex and stuff, but no more than we do.” He glances at his companions. They’re both quite drunk. “Probably less than you, actually.”
“Oh, I totally know,” says Sulu unexpectedly. “It’s just… they’re women, you know. They’re different. They always seem to get us, and we never get them.”
“What’s going on with you and Bridgerton?” asks Chekov, attempting to straighten up slightly.
Sulu sighs, and pokes at his drink. “Nothing. I mean, I sorta avoided her for a while, because, y’know, awkward, and now I’m pretty sure she’s not interested.”
“You,” announces Chekov, pointing again, “are an idiot.”
Sulu nods sadly. “Yeah.” He puts his glass down. “C’mon. We should hit the rack.”
“I hate her,” says Christine Chapel, glaring at Uhura’s retreating back as it disappears out of the mess.
“Chris,” says Rand, nudging her shoulder, “seriously, don’t go there.”
Chapel flops back in her seat. “I just—he’s—” She breaks off, and Rand looks away.
“Hey,” Rand says after a minute or two, “budget memo time soon. McCoy ready?”
Chapel chuckles. “Oh my God, are you kidding me? What is it with people and that stupid memo? I swear he spends half the year preparing a list of what he wants and the other half bitching when he doesn’t get it.”
Rand grins. “I love memo time. Hey, remember that time Security locked Winters in a cupboard for about a week?”
“Yeah.” Chapel sighs, and stands up. “Look, Jan, I appreciate it, but I think I’m just gonna go to bed, OK?” She laughs, a little wryly. “Unrequited love kinda takes it out of you.”
“Right,” says Rand, and watches as the nurse walks away. “Right.”
“Hey,” says Jim, “I’ve always wondered. What do women talk about among themselves?”
Rand looks up, startled. “Um, the same things as men, I guess.”
Jim nods. “Sex, right?”
She stares for a moment, then nods slowly. “Yes, Captain. Hot, sweaty, steamy, kinky sex. All the time. A-a-a-all the time.”
Now he’s staring. “Um. Really?”
“No,” says Rand, rolling her eyes and shoving a padd at him. “Not really. Sign this.”
“You’re a hard woman, Yeoman,” says Jim, and scribbles his signature.
“And you couldn’t live without me,” returns Rand, moving to the desk to collect her files. Jim watches her.
“Yeah,” he says, “I know. Women, huh?”
She turns and snatches back the padd. “Men, huh?”
They’re standing face to face, and there’s a moment’s lull.
“Right,” says Jim.
“Right,” says Rand.
“I’m gonna…”
“You should…”
She leaves, and Jim watches the door swoosh closed. “Jesus,” he says. “Why can’t we all be hermaphrodites?”
THE END
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 11:31 am (UTC)I wonder what Sulu and Bridgerton will name their kid?
no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 11:41 am (UTC)I hope they write Rand in Reboot and write her a hell of a lot better than they did in TOS.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 11:43 am (UTC)And indeed, the things they wouldn't do for Jim... He really has no idea. :D
no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 12:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 12:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 01:04 pm (UTC)I love this, especially Gaila and the pustules, which are hilarious, and the final conversation between Jim and Jan. I <3 your version of them - it's like "His Girl Friday" in space.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 01:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-05 01:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 02:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 02:23 pm (UTC)Saving to favorites now~
no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 02:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 02:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 03:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 04:55 pm (UTC)(Here from
no subject
Date: 2009-09-04 07:03 pm (UTC)Got here by way of tree_and_leaf
Date: 2009-09-04 07:23 pm (UTC)I especially liked the bit where Bridgerton and friends were talking about politics. And the bit with Gaila and the powerplant.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-05 06:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 10:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-27 07:44 pm (UTC)(I also totally want Yeoman Rand to show up in the next Reboot movie
so I can go dressed as herbecause she was totally WASTED in TOS.)