[Fic] "A History of Handcrafts" alternate scenes -- Star Trek: AOS
I took a rather lackadaisical approach to A History of Handcrafts (Because a Sweater Equals Love), otherwise known as "the unexpected remix." I had no outline and, initially, no plot or theme either -- just the knitting gimmick and some implied backstory about Amanda and Gaila from MelayneSeahawk's drabble. This resulted in several exploratory rough draft fragments that I cut and replaced for various reasons. Nonetheless, I think the unused fragments are often cute, and kind of interesting from a process-of-writing standpoint.
So here they are. (1,400 words, give or take)
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A History of Handcrafts: alternate scenes
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first attempt at scene 1, cut in favor of having actual dialogue:
In retrospect, knitting was a poor choice of hobby.
Amanda frowned at the snarl hanging from the tips of her plastic needles and tried to work out where her mind had started to drift, and what, precisely, she'd done while not paying attention. Eventually she gave up on backtracking properly and just cut the mess out altogether. She tied the end of her skein to the trailing piece of the sweater, tugged to make sure nothing was going to unravel for no apparent reason, and resumed her painstaking progress.
Her instruction book claimed knitting was an excellent way to produce something useful and beautiful while relaxing the mind. "It's just like meditation!" the cover blurb exclaimed. Amanda had never encountered anything less like meditation in her life.
"I could be writing translation code," she muttered to herself. "I could be in the garden. I could be calling T'Pol to get her opinion on the Science Academy's latest student quota proposals. But no. I had to tell Spock I was knitting him a sweater for his birthday, and now I have to produce one. Bah."
The horrible truth was that Spock needed a sweater -- Amanda knew all too well how uncomfortable San Francisco could be for desert-raised Vulcans, having watched Sarek's subtle tells during their courtship -- but he would never wear one of his own volition. Amanda knew the quirks of Vulcan pride quite well too. In Sarek's case, she resorted to keeping him indoors most of the time and having extra layers tailored into his ambassadorial robes. In Spock's case, she couldn't do much about Starfleet uniforms... but she could guilt him into wearing a handmade gift during his off-duty hours.
So she would.
And if it looked like a misbegotten clump of thistles and cat-hair masquerading as a proper piece of clothing, well so be it. Logically, Spock couldn't complain about the unfortunate impression bad aesthetics might make when he would never wear it around other people in the first place, and ugliness had no bearing on warmth.
Amanda nodded in satisfaction, and then stifled a curse when she realized she needed to cut out another tangle.
The things she did for her family didn't bear thinking about some days.
---------------
an alternate conclusion to scene 2, wherein Jim keeps up his knitting -- cut for lack of focus on emotional connection through gifts:
Jim wasn't sure what he'd ever do with his newfound skill, but the congratulatory sex was definitely worth it. And if he knitted himself a couple sweaters and some socks after he finished Gaila's deep green dress (which was a fucking knockout, if he said so himself), well, who said anybody ever needed to find out?
Except Bones, of course, because Jim made him a bobble hat, but jokes didn't count.
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first attempt at scene 3, from Spock's POV -- cut for excessive internal monologue and a refusal to get to the point:
Spock had few mementos of his mother or his world -- there had not seemed to be a need to bring any to Starfleet Academy, and there had been no time to think of such trivialities in the face of Nero's madness. Attaching emotional significance to physical objects was a foolish, illogical concept in any case.
Nevertheless, he found himself grateful that he had kept the digital photographs and videos she'd sent, rather than deleting them after a single viewing. He was grateful she had brought his lyre and a cutting from one of her rosebushes on her first visit to him in San Francisco, though he had protested the frivolity. He was even grateful for the draggled, lopsided mess masquerading as a sweater that she had thrust at him with the admonishment that she had made it "with my own two hands, Spock, and more time and trouble than you will ever know," and insisted that he keep himself warm and healthy for her sake.
He had no real occasion to wear it on board the Enterprise -- his uniform was specifically tailored to retain body heat, and he kept his quarters at a higher temperature than the rest of the ship -- but he stored the garment in his closet and now and then ran a hand over its uneven, lumpy length, imagining he could feel an echo of her love and laughter caught in the yarn. Illogical, of course, but comforting nonetheless.
He was somehow less than surprised when, after yet another skirmish with the Klingons -- who had grown disturbingly belligerent after Nero destroyed their ships en route to his mad crusade against the Federation -- the environmental controls began to malfunction. And the replicators. And the lift tubes. And the communications. And the warp drive containment.
Clearly the latter two were the most urgent: if the warp drive exploded, or if they simply had to jettison the cores but were unable to call for aid, they would die. Comparatively, low temperatures, foul smells, limited food, and the necessity of using ladders to switch decks were of no importance.
Spock spent his shift chasing electrical shorts from one deck to another at Nyota's direction, slowly reconnecting the ship to itself, while most of the other science officers were down in engineering under Mr. Scott's command. Finally Kirk ordered him to stand down and get something to eat.
"Then so should you," Spock told him, hoping his words would transmit through the shaky connection to the bridge. "Let beta shift continue work."
"I've just been sitting here all day," Kirk protested. "I can keep going until--"
Nyota said something Spock couldn't decipher, though her tone was one of fond exasperation.
"Fine. Fine. You two are complete bullies, you know that?" Kirk said. "I'll meet you both in the main rec room in thirty minutes. Lt. Ives, you have the con."
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an attempt to link scene 3 back to scenes 1 & 2 via Gaila, cut for veering away from Kirk, Spock, and knitting:
At the end of alpha shift the next day, Kirk disappeared into Spock's cabin with a conspiratorial wink at Nyota. She shook her head and headed to Gaila's cabin, stopping to call via a corridor com box to make sure she wouldn't walk in on sex.
Instead, she walked in on something that sounded like either foreplay or an argument over the most efficient way to organize machine code for some process related to transporters -- actually, knowing Lt. Commander Scott and Gaila, it was probably both. "Am I interrupting?" Nyota asked, standing in the doorway.
"Yes," said Scott, just as Gaila said, "Of course not." They frowned at each other. "Oh, whatever, come down to transporter bay six when you're done and you'll see I'm right," Scott said after a moment, and hurried into the corridor, adjusting his uniform tunic as he went.
Nyota raised one eyebrow.
"He's very energetic," Gaila said with a shrug. "So hey, let's catch up! How are you and your Vulcan doing at mimicking a pair-bond?"
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alternate conclusion to scene 3, cut for refusing to wind down to a proper ending:
The rest of the alpha shift bridge crew caught on to her plan fairly soon, but they knew how to keep a secret. And the utterly flabbergasted shock on Kirk's face when he found the blue hat in his chair, with "#1 Captain" stitched across the front, was a beautiful thing.
"It's not my birthday," he said, turning the hat around and around in his hands as if he couldn't quite believe it was real. "Who'd make me a present just because?"
"I did," Nyota said.
"Only because the rest of us don't know how to knit," Sulu added, swiveling in his chair to watch the scene, a huge grin on his face.
"You should put it on," Chekov said. "That is the proper etiquette for gifts, da?" He made little go-on motions with his hands.
Slowly, Kirk smiled, and tugged the hat on at a deliberately cockeyed angle. "Guess I can't argue with that. I am the best captain in Starfleet, after all, just like the hat says."
"The hat only says you're the best captain on this particular ship," Nyota told him, not trying very hard to hide her amusement. "Don't get cocky."
"Details!" Kirk waved his hand. "I hope you all realize that this means you're now subject to random acts of knitwear presentation. Scarves. Hats. Sweaters. Mittens. Socks. Argyle socks, people. None of you are safe. Not even you, Spock."
"My first attempt at a sweater was well received," Spock said, bone dry as ever. "I believe that gives me the power to retaliate appropriately. Plaid may be called for."
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End of Fragments
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In other news, I've been writing at work the past few days, but it's been kind of useless, at least from a can-I-post-this perspective.
For example, on Monday I wrote half a scene from at least two chapters ahead of myself in "Ashes" -- when Riam, Zalir, and Morgalen are at least a week into their journey, out in the tainted lands beyond Zerlon. Yesterday I wrote most a scene that is best described as fanfic for an original novel I haven't written. It's a little transitional incident that would probably not be in the actual book, if the book existed, because it's tangential to the main plot. I am writing it for my own amusement because it's a nice bit of emotional connection between two characters. I have another scene from that world (with different characters, but also a tangential transitional incident that wouldn't make it into the actual story) that I have been plotting in my head but haven't yet committed to paper.
...
I dunno, I may post them anyway when I finish. I do like my trio from "Ashes," and while I will probably never get around to writing their real story, I am also quite fond of Tom Redding, ri-Lady Lourdés Rodelay of House Ié'carranze dh Thrae, Vek abakak in'Ifut, and Signy of Vigjal, as well as the remaining cast of thousands their story contains.
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comments)
So here they are. (1,400 words, give or take)
---------------------------------------------
A History of Handcrafts: alternate scenes
---------------------------------------------
first attempt at scene 1, cut in favor of having actual dialogue:
In retrospect, knitting was a poor choice of hobby.
Amanda frowned at the snarl hanging from the tips of her plastic needles and tried to work out where her mind had started to drift, and what, precisely, she'd done while not paying attention. Eventually she gave up on backtracking properly and just cut the mess out altogether. She tied the end of her skein to the trailing piece of the sweater, tugged to make sure nothing was going to unravel for no apparent reason, and resumed her painstaking progress.
Her instruction book claimed knitting was an excellent way to produce something useful and beautiful while relaxing the mind. "It's just like meditation!" the cover blurb exclaimed. Amanda had never encountered anything less like meditation in her life.
"I could be writing translation code," she muttered to herself. "I could be in the garden. I could be calling T'Pol to get her opinion on the Science Academy's latest student quota proposals. But no. I had to tell Spock I was knitting him a sweater for his birthday, and now I have to produce one. Bah."
The horrible truth was that Spock needed a sweater -- Amanda knew all too well how uncomfortable San Francisco could be for desert-raised Vulcans, having watched Sarek's subtle tells during their courtship -- but he would never wear one of his own volition. Amanda knew the quirks of Vulcan pride quite well too. In Sarek's case, she resorted to keeping him indoors most of the time and having extra layers tailored into his ambassadorial robes. In Spock's case, she couldn't do much about Starfleet uniforms... but she could guilt him into wearing a handmade gift during his off-duty hours.
So she would.
And if it looked like a misbegotten clump of thistles and cat-hair masquerading as a proper piece of clothing, well so be it. Logically, Spock couldn't complain about the unfortunate impression bad aesthetics might make when he would never wear it around other people in the first place, and ugliness had no bearing on warmth.
Amanda nodded in satisfaction, and then stifled a curse when she realized she needed to cut out another tangle.
The things she did for her family didn't bear thinking about some days.
---------------
an alternate conclusion to scene 2, wherein Jim keeps up his knitting -- cut for lack of focus on emotional connection through gifts:
Jim wasn't sure what he'd ever do with his newfound skill, but the congratulatory sex was definitely worth it. And if he knitted himself a couple sweaters and some socks after he finished Gaila's deep green dress (which was a fucking knockout, if he said so himself), well, who said anybody ever needed to find out?
Except Bones, of course, because Jim made him a bobble hat, but jokes didn't count.
---------------
first attempt at scene 3, from Spock's POV -- cut for excessive internal monologue and a refusal to get to the point:
Spock had few mementos of his mother or his world -- there had not seemed to be a need to bring any to Starfleet Academy, and there had been no time to think of such trivialities in the face of Nero's madness. Attaching emotional significance to physical objects was a foolish, illogical concept in any case.
Nevertheless, he found himself grateful that he had kept the digital photographs and videos she'd sent, rather than deleting them after a single viewing. He was grateful she had brought his lyre and a cutting from one of her rosebushes on her first visit to him in San Francisco, though he had protested the frivolity. He was even grateful for the draggled, lopsided mess masquerading as a sweater that she had thrust at him with the admonishment that she had made it "with my own two hands, Spock, and more time and trouble than you will ever know," and insisted that he keep himself warm and healthy for her sake.
He had no real occasion to wear it on board the Enterprise -- his uniform was specifically tailored to retain body heat, and he kept his quarters at a higher temperature than the rest of the ship -- but he stored the garment in his closet and now and then ran a hand over its uneven, lumpy length, imagining he could feel an echo of her love and laughter caught in the yarn. Illogical, of course, but comforting nonetheless.
He was somehow less than surprised when, after yet another skirmish with the Klingons -- who had grown disturbingly belligerent after Nero destroyed their ships en route to his mad crusade against the Federation -- the environmental controls began to malfunction. And the replicators. And the lift tubes. And the communications. And the warp drive containment.
Clearly the latter two were the most urgent: if the warp drive exploded, or if they simply had to jettison the cores but were unable to call for aid, they would die. Comparatively, low temperatures, foul smells, limited food, and the necessity of using ladders to switch decks were of no importance.
Spock spent his shift chasing electrical shorts from one deck to another at Nyota's direction, slowly reconnecting the ship to itself, while most of the other science officers were down in engineering under Mr. Scott's command. Finally Kirk ordered him to stand down and get something to eat.
"Then so should you," Spock told him, hoping his words would transmit through the shaky connection to the bridge. "Let beta shift continue work."
"I've just been sitting here all day," Kirk protested. "I can keep going until--"
Nyota said something Spock couldn't decipher, though her tone was one of fond exasperation.
"Fine. Fine. You two are complete bullies, you know that?" Kirk said. "I'll meet you both in the main rec room in thirty minutes. Lt. Ives, you have the con."
---------------
an attempt to link scene 3 back to scenes 1 & 2 via Gaila, cut for veering away from Kirk, Spock, and knitting:
At the end of alpha shift the next day, Kirk disappeared into Spock's cabin with a conspiratorial wink at Nyota. She shook her head and headed to Gaila's cabin, stopping to call via a corridor com box to make sure she wouldn't walk in on sex.
Instead, she walked in on something that sounded like either foreplay or an argument over the most efficient way to organize machine code for some process related to transporters -- actually, knowing Lt. Commander Scott and Gaila, it was probably both. "Am I interrupting?" Nyota asked, standing in the doorway.
"Yes," said Scott, just as Gaila said, "Of course not." They frowned at each other. "Oh, whatever, come down to transporter bay six when you're done and you'll see I'm right," Scott said after a moment, and hurried into the corridor, adjusting his uniform tunic as he went.
Nyota raised one eyebrow.
"He's very energetic," Gaila said with a shrug. "So hey, let's catch up! How are you and your Vulcan doing at mimicking a pair-bond?"
---------------
alternate conclusion to scene 3, cut for refusing to wind down to a proper ending:
The rest of the alpha shift bridge crew caught on to her plan fairly soon, but they knew how to keep a secret. And the utterly flabbergasted shock on Kirk's face when he found the blue hat in his chair, with "#1 Captain" stitched across the front, was a beautiful thing.
"It's not my birthday," he said, turning the hat around and around in his hands as if he couldn't quite believe it was real. "Who'd make me a present just because?"
"I did," Nyota said.
"Only because the rest of us don't know how to knit," Sulu added, swiveling in his chair to watch the scene, a huge grin on his face.
"You should put it on," Chekov said. "That is the proper etiquette for gifts, da?" He made little go-on motions with his hands.
Slowly, Kirk smiled, and tugged the hat on at a deliberately cockeyed angle. "Guess I can't argue with that. I am the best captain in Starfleet, after all, just like the hat says."
"The hat only says you're the best captain on this particular ship," Nyota told him, not trying very hard to hide her amusement. "Don't get cocky."
"Details!" Kirk waved his hand. "I hope you all realize that this means you're now subject to random acts of knitwear presentation. Scarves. Hats. Sweaters. Mittens. Socks. Argyle socks, people. None of you are safe. Not even you, Spock."
"My first attempt at a sweater was well received," Spock said, bone dry as ever. "I believe that gives me the power to retaliate appropriately. Plaid may be called for."
---------------------------------------------
End of Fragments
---------------------------------------------
In other news, I've been writing at work the past few days, but it's been kind of useless, at least from a can-I-post-this perspective.
For example, on Monday I wrote half a scene from at least two chapters ahead of myself in "Ashes" -- when Riam, Zalir, and Morgalen are at least a week into their journey, out in the tainted lands beyond Zerlon. Yesterday I wrote most a scene that is best described as fanfic for an original novel I haven't written. It's a little transitional incident that would probably not be in the actual book, if the book existed, because it's tangential to the main plot. I am writing it for my own amusement because it's a nice bit of emotional connection between two characters. I have another scene from that world (with different characters, but also a tangential transitional incident that wouldn't make it into the actual story) that I have been plotting in my head but haven't yet committed to paper.
...
I dunno, I may post them anyway when I finish. I do like my trio from "Ashes," and while I will probably never get around to writing their real story, I am also quite fond of Tom Redding, ri-Lady Lourdés Rodelay of House Ié'carranze dh Thrae, Vek abakak in'Ifut, and Signy of Vigjal, as well as the remaining cast of thousands their story contains.
You can also read this entry on Dreamwidth, where there are currently (
comments)