Star Trek: Bark(ley)
I was starting to feel left out of this puppy fic meme. So I wrote one about Gaila.
(Quick once-over and cheerleading from
isandre, who you should direct all complaints to.)
Gaila stayed on Earth when she had time dirtside, partly because three years at Starfleet Academy had left her more or less able to navigate the place, but mostly because the whole planet was like some kind of strange museum to her. Just when she thought she had it all figured out, she'd discover some new type of food or animal or fetish and be delighted all over again. Earth was stimulating to the senses; she could just take a walk through a city and be sure to find something new and awesome along the way.
And so she was strolling through the Castro in San Francisco, thinking about lunch and all the marking she had to do when she got back to her office at the Academy, when she heard a strange noise from behind a box on the sidewalk.
She stopped in her tracks and stared at the box, creeping closer on silent feet. Her hand made an abortive move for a phaser that wasn't at her waist, and instead she pressed her hands against her hips, smoothing down her skirt anxiously as she leaned down toward the box.
“Hello?” she said softly. It was her go-to phrase in strange situations.
There was a shuffling noise and then something furry with a black nose poked its head up around one of the open flaps of the box.
“What the fuck?” said Gaila.
The furry thing cocked its head at her and then suddenly leaped out from behind the box and rushed at her legs. She jumped back and it sat on the sidewalk, making whiny-sounding noises and thumping its thin little tail on the concrete.
Gaila pulled out her ever-present tricorder. The scan of the little wiggly, furry thing said it was Canis lupus familiaris, or a dog. She'd heard of dogs. They were domesticated by humans. Sometimes people walked them around on ropes in the park. They responded well to affectionate touching. Gaila put out her hand slowly.
“Hello, dog,” she said. It opened its mouth and then shoved the top of its head up at her hand, making noises again.
Gaila started petting it and it rolled right over on the sidewalk, apparently trying to get her to pet its underside. She crept closer to oblige, and she could feel the bumps of its ribs underneath its skin. The fur was rough with grit, and the dog was female.
“You've been outside with no humans to take care of you,” she decided. “I'll help you get back on your feet, if you want. It's the decent thing to do for another creature out in the cold. What's your name?”
The dog wiggled happily under her hand.
***
Spock came home with startling news.
“Gaila has acquired a puppy,” he said as he walked in the front door. He said it in the same way a person might say it looked like rain, in transit on his way to the kitchen and the tea kettle.
“Wait,” said Jim, sitting upright on the couch. “Back up.” He jumped up, knocking Cory off of his feet, but some things were more important. He tailed Spock into the kitchen, dodging Shawn as he circled the table. “Did you say Gaila? And puppy? In the same sentence?”
Spock put down his mug with infinite patience and turned around. “She has acquired a puppy. A beagle, in fact.”
“You've seen it?”
“Admiral Pike informed me over lunch today.”
Jim thought about the possibility that Pike was playing tricks on Jim via Spock. Again. “Where and why did she get a dog?”
“It was abandoned, apparently.” Spock poured water into his mug and carried it to the kitchen table, the dogs following him placidly across the room. “Have you eaten dinner yet?” Spock seemed to figure out Jim wasn't listening when he failed to answer a question related to food. “Jim?”
Jim was already standing at the comm unit on the kitchen wall. “Silence,” he said, “I'm investigating.”
“I am going to order Chinese,” Spock said, mostly to the dogs.
***
Gaila was pretty happy to introduce Jim to her new canine partner in crime. They met at a dog park near the Academy; Gaila brought coffee, because Gaila was an amazing being who always thought of things like that.
“So that's your dog,” said Jim, as Cory and a tiny beagle sniffed each others' asses with professional interest.
“She's like a roommate that doesn't pay rent, but at least I don't expect her to,” said Gaila, watching the proceedings with her head cocked to the side. “So far the arrangement's working out.”
“You don't have her on a leash,” Jim observed.
Gaila blinked at him for a minute. “Oh,” she said. “Those ropes that go around their necks? It's so undignified. We have an agreement in place.”
Gaila's dog wagged her tail and barked.
“That's what I'm saying,” said Gaila, as if the puppy had made a salient point relevant to the conversation. “Class should really be demonstrated at all times.”
Jim thought it might be a good time to take a prolonged sip of coffee, even though it was still nearly boiling. He coughed and pretended it wasn't because his tongue was blistering. “So,” he said offhandedly, “what's her name?”
Gaila barked.
Gaila's dog's ears perked up.
Jim got a sinking feeling. “Sorry? I didn't quite catch that.”
“It's her name.”
Jim wondered whether he should even say it. “Most people give their dogs names in... languages they speak.”
“I don't understand,” said Gaila.
“My dog's name is Cory,” he said, pointing at Cory, who was lying on the pathway and panting by then. “I named him that.”
Gaila stared some more. “I just asked--” and here she barked again, “--what her name was, and she told me. I mean, I might be mangling the pronunciation, but she's pretty understanding. And she doesn't have the right kind of vocal tract to pronounce my name, anyway.”
Jim looked helplessly down at Gaila's dog, which his brain helpfully nicknamed Barkley for the sake of his remaining sanity. She gazed up at them both, tongue lolling out of her mouth. “Fair enough,” he said. “You two have developed quite an understanding.”
“I think I see why humans are so into domesticated animal companions,” she said thoughtfully. “For one thing, she makes an excellent wingman when we go to the park. We're discussing whether to get her some tiny dog clothing or some of that neck jewelry they wear, so she can attract some men of her own.” Barkley wagged her tail in apparent support. “Anyway, I have a class to teach in about twenty minutes. It was good to see you, Jim; let's get lunch soon. Bring Spock; I miss hitting on him.”
Jim smirked a little at the thought. “Sounds good. You ladies have a good afternoon.”
Gaila gave him a cheery wave and then barked her dog's name, nodding her head toward the park exit. Jim watched in bemusement as Gaila and her dog walked away, side by side.
THE END, thank christ
This entry was originally posted at http://waketosleep.dreamwidth.org/31350.html. (
comments)
(Quick once-over and cheerleading from
isandre, who you should direct all complaints to.)
Gaila stayed on Earth when she had time dirtside, partly because three years at Starfleet Academy had left her more or less able to navigate the place, but mostly because the whole planet was like some kind of strange museum to her. Just when she thought she had it all figured out, she'd discover some new type of food or animal or fetish and be delighted all over again. Earth was stimulating to the senses; she could just take a walk through a city and be sure to find something new and awesome along the way.
And so she was strolling through the Castro in San Francisco, thinking about lunch and all the marking she had to do when she got back to her office at the Academy, when she heard a strange noise from behind a box on the sidewalk.
She stopped in her tracks and stared at the box, creeping closer on silent feet. Her hand made an abortive move for a phaser that wasn't at her waist, and instead she pressed her hands against her hips, smoothing down her skirt anxiously as she leaned down toward the box.
“Hello?” she said softly. It was her go-to phrase in strange situations.
There was a shuffling noise and then something furry with a black nose poked its head up around one of the open flaps of the box.
“What the fuck?” said Gaila.
The furry thing cocked its head at her and then suddenly leaped out from behind the box and rushed at her legs. She jumped back and it sat on the sidewalk, making whiny-sounding noises and thumping its thin little tail on the concrete.
Gaila pulled out her ever-present tricorder. The scan of the little wiggly, furry thing said it was Canis lupus familiaris, or a dog. She'd heard of dogs. They were domesticated by humans. Sometimes people walked them around on ropes in the park. They responded well to affectionate touching. Gaila put out her hand slowly.
“Hello, dog,” she said. It opened its mouth and then shoved the top of its head up at her hand, making noises again.
Gaila started petting it and it rolled right over on the sidewalk, apparently trying to get her to pet its underside. She crept closer to oblige, and she could feel the bumps of its ribs underneath its skin. The fur was rough with grit, and the dog was female.
“You've been outside with no humans to take care of you,” she decided. “I'll help you get back on your feet, if you want. It's the decent thing to do for another creature out in the cold. What's your name?”
The dog wiggled happily under her hand.
***
Spock came home with startling news.
“Gaila has acquired a puppy,” he said as he walked in the front door. He said it in the same way a person might say it looked like rain, in transit on his way to the kitchen and the tea kettle.
“Wait,” said Jim, sitting upright on the couch. “Back up.” He jumped up, knocking Cory off of his feet, but some things were more important. He tailed Spock into the kitchen, dodging Shawn as he circled the table. “Did you say Gaila? And puppy? In the same sentence?”
Spock put down his mug with infinite patience and turned around. “She has acquired a puppy. A beagle, in fact.”
“You've seen it?”
“Admiral Pike informed me over lunch today.”
Jim thought about the possibility that Pike was playing tricks on Jim via Spock. Again. “Where and why did she get a dog?”
“It was abandoned, apparently.” Spock poured water into his mug and carried it to the kitchen table, the dogs following him placidly across the room. “Have you eaten dinner yet?” Spock seemed to figure out Jim wasn't listening when he failed to answer a question related to food. “Jim?”
Jim was already standing at the comm unit on the kitchen wall. “Silence,” he said, “I'm investigating.”
“I am going to order Chinese,” Spock said, mostly to the dogs.
***
Gaila was pretty happy to introduce Jim to her new canine partner in crime. They met at a dog park near the Academy; Gaila brought coffee, because Gaila was an amazing being who always thought of things like that.
“So that's your dog,” said Jim, as Cory and a tiny beagle sniffed each others' asses with professional interest.
“She's like a roommate that doesn't pay rent, but at least I don't expect her to,” said Gaila, watching the proceedings with her head cocked to the side. “So far the arrangement's working out.”
“You don't have her on a leash,” Jim observed.
Gaila blinked at him for a minute. “Oh,” she said. “Those ropes that go around their necks? It's so undignified. We have an agreement in place.”
Gaila's dog wagged her tail and barked.
“That's what I'm saying,” said Gaila, as if the puppy had made a salient point relevant to the conversation. “Class should really be demonstrated at all times.”
Jim thought it might be a good time to take a prolonged sip of coffee, even though it was still nearly boiling. He coughed and pretended it wasn't because his tongue was blistering. “So,” he said offhandedly, “what's her name?”
Gaila barked.
Gaila's dog's ears perked up.
Jim got a sinking feeling. “Sorry? I didn't quite catch that.”
“It's her name.”
Jim wondered whether he should even say it. “Most people give their dogs names in... languages they speak.”
“I don't understand,” said Gaila.
“My dog's name is Cory,” he said, pointing at Cory, who was lying on the pathway and panting by then. “I named him that.”
Gaila stared some more. “I just asked--” and here she barked again, “--what her name was, and she told me. I mean, I might be mangling the pronunciation, but she's pretty understanding. And she doesn't have the right kind of vocal tract to pronounce my name, anyway.”
Jim looked helplessly down at Gaila's dog, which his brain helpfully nicknamed Barkley for the sake of his remaining sanity. She gazed up at them both, tongue lolling out of her mouth. “Fair enough,” he said. “You two have developed quite an understanding.”
“I think I see why humans are so into domesticated animal companions,” she said thoughtfully. “For one thing, she makes an excellent wingman when we go to the park. We're discussing whether to get her some tiny dog clothing or some of that neck jewelry they wear, so she can attract some men of her own.” Barkley wagged her tail in apparent support. “Anyway, I have a class to teach in about twenty minutes. It was good to see you, Jim; let's get lunch soon. Bring Spock; I miss hitting on him.”
Jim smirked a little at the thought. “Sounds good. You ladies have a good afternoon.”
Gaila gave him a cheery wave and then barked her dog's name, nodding her head toward the park exit. Jim watched in bemusement as Gaila and her dog walked away, side by side.
THE END, thank christ
This entry was originally posted at http://waketosleep.dreamwidth.org/31350.html. (
comments)