[comment-fics] Temeraire/Star Trek Crossover - THIS DRAGON IS EXCITING!
Firstly, pellucere wrote me this fantastic Temeraire/Treasure Planet crossover where Laurence meets Jim Hawkins (and pink-dragon!Morph) and I totally flipped into crazy-mode. It is adorable. Do not read my first comment, you will think I’m a freak.
Soon after we started talking about Star Trek Reboot and, well, you know… FIC HAPPENS. (<-McCoy, Sulu, and Heights, and Roland meets Chekov) pellucere also wrote these darling (first lieutenant) Spock and (second lieutenant) Uhura snippets within the thread as well, so look for that!
And because I am a crazy head, I also wrote these:
[Pre-Australian ban-hammer]
The celebration celebrated nothing in particular, but Inceptum thought the crew deserved it, even if, technically, they would be sailing for Australia in the morning. She saw Lieutenants Uhura and Spock sitting at the edge of the clearing, heads bowed low, but Spock was smiling and even nursing a cup of strong port in his hands. It had been a while since he had smiled, not since the news of his father’s narrow escape from France, and his mother’s death. Uhura herself was looking brighter, more relaxed. To Inceptum’s left was Sulu, trying to teach Chekov the finer techniques of swordsmanship. It seemed to be going well, but when Scotty joined in the lesson, Sulu was forced to take away Chekov’s practice sword, lest Scotty run into it on account of the alcohol he had consumed.
They were all so different, Inceptum mused sleepily, listening to Chekov shout something in Russian, and Scotty replying in his accent. They were all so different, but they got along as easily as any other crew in the Corps, perhaps even better. Inceptum loved each and every one of them, right down to McCoy, who used tricks to pull out bullets from her hide, and she did not like that very much. It was a shame that the Admiralty could not see past her motley crew for what they were; capable and confident people-her family, and Jim’s too.
No one blamed Jim though, and the captain didn’t seem to blame himself either. After all, without him, Sulu would have never been third lieutenant, Chekov would have never gotten his chance, and Uhura would not even be in her proud aviator’s uniform, and without Uhura, there would have been no Spock either. But, Inceptum thought, Kirk did feel guilty. She could see it in the way he sneaked glances at everyone and, with each glance, he downed a swallow of whiskey.
“Jim?” she began gently, “Jim, stop drinking. You have to wake up early tomorrow.”
“You’re not Spock,” Jim drawled from where he was nestled under her folded wings.
“You wouldn’t have listened to Lieutenant Spock anyway,” Inceptum reminded him.
“Oh,” Jim said, as if the thought had just occurred to him, “Well, I can do what I want.”
Which is why we are being temporarily exiled to Australia, Inceptum thought ruefully. Out loud, she said, “Put the drink away, captain.”
Jim glared at her, glassy-eyed and looking unquestionably miserable, and maybe angry. “It’s always Jim or captain with you,” he said suddenly, and immediately hunched over, as if he regretted saying it.
Inceptum did not know what to do next; Jim’s tone had stung her, and worse, she did not know what he had meant. Her tail, usually lifted at the tip, dropped. Jim saw, and shook his head.
“Oh, Hell,” he said, rubbing his eyes. He patted her side, not saying anything else. Though he was drunk, Inceptum found it worrying that he was not his usual drunken self. That Jim was loud, brash, and amusing, as long as he wasn’t getting himself into trouble, which was never. They listened to the crew talk for a while, and after some time, Jim mumbled over the mouth of his flask, “What was Kirk-my father-like?”
Inceptum went still, just as always whenever Kirk-the late Kirk-was mentioned. She lowered her head, resting it near Jim. He automatically reached out and leaned closer, and then she was able to talk.
“He saved so many people,” she said simply, “and when he died, I think-I think I had lost a father as well. But then, you were born, and it was like I could see him again, in you.”
Jim glanced at her, and Inceptum found it strange that he should appear so acutely unhappy with her compliment. “Oh,” he said, and took a long pull from his flask. “I never knew him, Inceptum. Sometimes I wish I did, so that I could be more like him, if it should please you so greatly.”
The words were harsh and bordering on sarcasm. Inceptum gave a low, surprised rumble deep in her chest, finally understanding. “Jim, you are a great captain, in many different ways from your father. The both of you are incomparable.”
Jim grunted, but did not seem convinced. Inceptum sighed, recognizing his petulant look and crossed arms in an instant. At least he had put away the flask, which meant that she got his attention.
“You saved people too, remember?” she said, as quietly as she could, tilting her head to the rest of the clearing where the crew was still laughing and drinking. “You are not your father, but to me you are, ah, you are-“ here words failed her, because she could not think of one that sounded right.
Jim had been staring blankly away, or perhaps he had been looking at the crew. His eyes moved around the clearing-to Spock, Uhura, Bones, every person-and, finally, he chuckled.
“Brother, right?” Jim asked, smiling. “I am your unruly, impossible younger brother.”
Inceptum frowned, “That is a very strange thing to say, but I suppose you are correct.”
“And you are my sister!” he declared, lolling his head back against her neck.
“Jim, you are slurring.” She paused, peering intently at him, “And now you are fast asleep.” Inceptum sighed, lifted her wing to shelter Jim from the bright lights of the lanterns and the noise of the crew, and soon fell asleep with him.
[Spock-whatever-the-hell-he-is]
Sipho sat with Chekov and Roland in Inceptum’s clearing. They were talking about mathematics, and Sipho was happy to hear that Chekov enjoyed it as well. Roland, on the other hand, did not appear too delighted with the prospect of numbers, unless it was with cards, which she had taken a recent liking to. They had been helping her with the math work that Temeraire and Captain Laurence had given them. Chekov was enthusiastically explaining summations while Sipho played close attention. Roland held her head in her heads.
There was a crunch of boots on the red gravel and all three of them looked up. It was Inceptum’s first lieutenant, Sipho guessed, judging from the number of bars on his coat. He was an impressive sight, but not because of his straight way of standing, or severe look-though the expression might have been due to his eyebrows, and his ears-
“Gentlemen,” the lieutenant said pleasantly, “I’m glad to see your free time being filled with educational productivity.”
Chekov smiled, “Yes, sir!” And Roland quickly made a similar, enthusiastic reply. Sipho could only nod shyly.
When the lieutenant turned around and left, he glanced at Roland; she was staring at the strange-looking lieutenant, and Sipho could not help but join her.
“Roland, Sipho, are you listening to me?” Chekov asked, faintly annoyed.
“Who was that?” Roland whispered, discreetly gesturing to the lieutenant.
Chekov gave her an odd look. “That is First Lieutenant Spock.”
Sipho and Roland waited expectantly, but Chekov did not say anything else. “What is it?” he asked, bemused.
Roland frowned, glancing nervously around before continuing in a lowered voice, “I know you fellows are a rather, um, diverse crew, but your Lieutenant Spock… What exactly-”
Sipho blurted it out before he could stop himself, “Is he a faerie?” He promptly covered his mouth, embarrassed to mention such make-believe creatures, let alone accuse an aviator of being one.
Chekov’s eyebrows shot up, but Roland looked as if she would have asked the very same question.
“A faerie?” laughed a voice, causing all three of them to jump. Inceptum’s captain sauntered from behind them. “Spock is no faerie; he is half French.”
With another bark of laughter, Captain Kirk wandered away again, presumably to sneak up on the other cadets and ensigns caught gossiping.
“Huh. I did not know that,” Chekov said, breaking their silence, and went back to his summations.
eta: There is more in the comments! Can. Not. Stop. *___*
eta2: There is now an INDEX!