[Star Trek Reboot] Wrote the Book
Title: Wrote the Book
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot
Pairings: Some vague Spock/Kirk and reference to past Spock/Uhura, but the real OTP of this fic is Kirk/Inappropriateness.
Genre: Humour, of the NOTHING IS SACRED variety.
Word Count: 3,235
Notes: You know, this is the first fic I've actually finished for a year and one month? BB!X doesn't count because I've only finished installments, not the whole thing. Anyway, be warned that there is a lot of Kirk being a cheerful asshole and making jokes about serious issues of workplace harassment. Basically warning for Reboot!Kirk, really. XD The idea came from an episode of NCIS. Oh yeah, also, I made a conscious decision to use American spelling because it's an American show and you can hear the differences with words like 'mom' and 'ass' and if I was going to change those two it'd look weird leaving all my Australian "ou"s and "ise"s in. ... Also, I want a nu!Trek icon.
Summary: The crew of the Enterprise is subjected to a compulsory seminar on Inappropriate Workplace Behavior, and Jim Kirk finds this to be particularly challenging.
Jim will never, never understand the need for these bullshit seminars that every workplace in the history of Earth seems to insist upon. All the team unity and “synergy” exercises in the universe aren’t going to build real trust or strong relationships amongst a crew-he knows better than anyone, you have to really work at that shit-and political correctness is really just everyone being stiffly polite and keeping all their opinions to themselves while the resentment and disdain continue to simmer inside. So far as Jim’s concerned, it’s less to do with actual mutual respect and understanding than it is about the look of the thing and everyone being able to pat themselves on the back about how progressive they are. It’s kind of condescending. He bets Spock would approve.
As much as Jim thinks the whole thing is bullshit, though, being captain of his own goddamn starship is apparently not enough to get him (or his crew) out of them. Which is why command are all sitting in this tiny stuffy room waiting to be bored out of their minds by a lecture on Inappropriate Workplace Behavior. Like, seriously? Appropriate workplaces are boring. And Jim knows for a fact that he and his crew fucking kick ass and totally don’t need to be lectured about this shit, but whatever, rules are rules and Jim doesn’t really want to get his ass busted by higher ups for flying out when the Enterprise is scheduled for a compulsory seminar. It’s a lot harder to say “fuck the man” when you are the man, he’s finding.
So he’s already heard the jokes from his crew-mostly Bones, but Sulu and Uhura had joined in too-about how he pretty much wrote the book on inappropriate, and hey, whatever, he can’t help being awesome, can he? (Bones had threatened him with a hypospray when Jim had smirked and said, “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful, bitch,” but he was just jealous, Jim totally knew it.) But he knows for sure that this is going to suck balls when this uptight middle-aged woman stomps into the room, takes one look at him and just spears him with this look, like he’s worse than cockroach guts squashed on the sole of her shoe. It’s more denigrating than even Uhura’s most disparaging glares (possibly excluding the first night they’d met), and if looks could kill, Jim’s pretty sure he wouldn’t even be a greasy smoking smear on the ground.
Well, this will be fun.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she begins, although from her expression Jim is pretty sure she queries the application of either of those labels to him-and hey, what about species without gender, Ms. Politically Correct? Not that there are any on the Enterprise yet, but it’s the principle of the thing. “You are here today to discuss the importance of appropriateness in the workplace and the sorts of behavior that is considered inappropriate.”
She clicks a device in her hand; a hologram springs up in the center of the room, and Jim thinks, fuck, there’s going to be slides.
He fucking hates slides. They’re like a guarantee that anything boring will automatically become that much more mind-numbingly dull, and yet for some reason Starfleet seems to get all orgasmic over the prospect. The more slides, the better. You can never have too many slides, apparently.
She begins, “The Federation seeks to guarantee that no sentient being shall be treated as lesser because of their race, species, gender or sexual practices, or for any other reason,” and clicks the device again. Sure enough, there are slides; the hologram shifts, dissolving into another image, and Jim barely manages to suppress a groan. “It is therefore important to ensure that all persons, regardless of their individual background, feel safe and comfortable in their working environment. This lecture is intended to address the kinds of-Mr. Kirk, am I boring you?”
Jim almost chokes on his yawn at the sharp tone of her voice, and tries desperately not to meet Sulu’s amused look behind the woman’s back because he knows he’ll crack up if he does.
“No mam,” he says sincerely, and gives her his best bedroom eyes, because very few people are immune to the magic of the Kirk Charm. “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be than right here listening to your soothing voice.”
Uhura’s making a gagging motion, Spock looks disgusted (as much as Spock ever looks anything, really) and Chekov is trying to smother a giggle, but the woman just gives him a really hard ball-breaking stare and tells him, “Then try to pay attention, Mr. Kirk, because I believe you could use the instruction.”
Ouch, tough crowd.
“As I was saying,” she goes on, “this lecture is intended to address the kinds of behavior that can create a hostile work environment and lead to individuals feeling threatened or objectified by the actions of their peers and superiors, regardless of whether such actions are conscious or intentional. Hopefully you will all pay attention and in future will be able to apply this knowledge in order to be more aware of the impact of your words and actions on others around you.”
She’s addressing the whole room, but with the way she’s staring him down, Jim feels like she expects some kind of response from him specifically.
“I’m all ears, I swear,” he promises. “Totally ready to learn all about how to be, you know, appropriate.”
He doesn’t even mean for that to come out sounding like a come-on, and yet it kind of somehow does. He has to try hard not to let his face settle into a leer, and he knows that that was totally Bones snorting with disbelief in the background, the bastard. Never mind that Jim is lying through his teeth; his best friend could at least fake being supportive.
Ice-bitch obviously doesn’t buy it either, from the withering look of disgust she bestows on him. Jim winces and has to fight the urge to cross his legs. “Flirting with crewmembers, especially those lower-ranking than yourself, is inappropriate,” she continues, with an extra special frown in Jim’s direction. Everybody else pointedly doesn’t look at him, except Bones, who’s smirking.
“Your mom is inappropriate,” Jim says, but under his breath, because he’s pretty sure that “your mom” jokes are not acceptable either and he doesn’t want to get reamed out for that one, too.
“This extends to sexual and inappropriate remarks and language,” the woman informs them. Her hard stare doesn’t waver and he’s pretty sure she didn’t actually hear him, but she probably didn’t even need to by this point; she seems to think she has him pegged.
To be fair, she’s not exactly wrong, per se.
“This means there is to be no reference to your own body or the bodies of others in anything other than clinical capacity-“
“You mean, like, you’re so hot you need a doctor to take your temperature?” Jim interrupts, in a fit of uncontrollable foot-in-mouth disease, and Uhura gives him what he had long since dubbed the ‘oh my god, can you be any more of a skeezeball’ look. It pales in comparison to the lecturer’s glower, though. And it’s not even like he’d ever seriously use a line quite that bad, he just… couldn’t help himself.
There’s a reason Bones always accuses him of having the self-restraint of a toddler.
“Right, no flirting,” he says weakly. “Got it.”
“I certainly hope so,” the lecturer says frostily, and turns her attention back to the presentation. “This means there is to be no discussion of personal and especially sexual lives or inquiry into the personal lives of others. Both the content and language of communications is to be kept polite and professional at all times.”
Jim is pretty sure she just told them not to use the word "fuck". It’s kind of like being in grade school again, and he feels vaguely like he’s being oppressed (seriously, what the fuck is this, It’s Not Okay To Be James Kirk day?), but he’s not stupid enough to say that out loud this time.
“You must also abstain from looking or touching another person in a way that could make them uncomfortable. This means that eye contact should be professional and impersonal and not sought with individuals who find it discomforting for personal or cultural reasons, and should be avoided where unnecessary.”
“So what, I can’t even look at people now?” Kirk demands, unable to help himself, and he doesn’t even mean it like that, but the lecturer gives him her best lemon face and Uhura rolls her eyes at him.
“Are you trying to break every taboo there is, or are you just naturally unfit for polite society?” she asks sweetly.
“Look, unlike half the crew I’m not the one who keeps ruffling Chekov’s hair, okay,” Jim feels compelled to point out, because hello, hypocrisy much? “In fact, I even tried ordering you guys to quit it, which I distinctly remember being ignored. He’s not a puppy, you know.”
“Thank you, Keptin,” Chekov says gratefully, and hey, at least someone appreciates him.
“Physical contact between crewmembers,” the woman goes on in a thundering voice of disapproval, “is to be restricted. In a workplace environment you must refrain from casually touching others, as they may feel uncomfortable. This is especially so in the case of Vulcans, as physical contact implies a much higher level of intimacy in their culture and uninvited touch may be tantamount to sexual harassment.”
This time Jim can feel the stares being leveled at him from all sides of the room.
“Spock, do I make you feel uncomfortable when I pat you on the back?” he asks, actually slightly worried this time.
Spock’s expression is complicated. Well, okay, it’s Vulcan, but his eyebrows move slightly in a way that Jim knows means he’s not quite sure how to respond to that.
“No, Captain,” he answers finally.
“You’d tell me if you felt sexually harassed, right?” Jim presses, although he’s pretty sure Spock would punch him if he were actually overstepping any serious boundaries. Guy’s got a pretty nasty temper for a Vulcan.
“I have no objection to your touching me, Captain,” Spock clarifies, and Jim sinks down in his chair because maybe Spock doesn’t know what that sounds like, but Bones is mumbling about bleaching his mind of the trauma and someone (Scotty?) is sniggering and Uhura is giving them this really speculative look that may or may not be a threat to Jim’s continued personal well-being.
Then again, maybe Spock does know what that sounds like, because Jim could swear the asshole is smirking on the inside and he’s getting pretty good at reading those non-expressions.
Of course, Spock doesn’t get yelled at because this woman obviously doesn’t know shit about Vulcan humor and probably thinks they are all logical little bastions of appropriateness, which is such bull. If Jim had said that he’d be getting his ass chewed out right now and not in a fun way, but Spock gets away with it because he’s got such an iron-cast deadpan expression and nobody would ever believe that he’d be anything less than perfect, the bastard.
Jim gets his revenge sooner than he’d expected, however, when the lecturer decides to ignore them to go on with her speech and says, “Public displays of affection are inappropriate under any circumstances.”
“Yeah, Spock,” he says smugly, because finally it’s someone else’s turn to take the rap, and it makes it just that much sweeter that it’s Spock and Uhura, of all people. It doesn’t matter that it only happened once; it still happened, and he was there, and he will never, ever let them live it down, even though they had an ‘amicable parting of ways’ or whatever the fuck several months ago.
Spock flushes a faint apple green and Uhura gives him a death glare. Jim is willing to call that a win, even if Bones kind of ruins it by adding, “Of course, Jim, you do realize that it applies doubly to public sex, right?”
Whatever, they all just wish they could be as awesome as he is.
“Furthermore,” the woman in the center of the room says loudly over the top of any retort Jim might have made, “over-sexualized body language should be avoided as it can create a hostile working environment.”
Everyone looks at Jim yet again, and honestly, they may as well just not bother even looking away in the first place at this rate. He’s just sitting there in his habitual slouch, his spine curved so his hips tilt up and his legs sprawl outwards like always, because that’s how he sits because it’s comfortable, so it’s not like he’s even doing anything, but the woman giving the lecture is frowning again. “What?” he demands.
“Jim can’t help who he is,” Bones says, shaking his head.
“It would be illogical to expect the captain to change his nature in such a way,” Spock agrees.
“Your face is illogical,” Jim retorts, then, “Wait, did you just call me a slut?”
Spock simply gives an enigmatic almost-smile, which probably means yes. Goddammit.
“Everyone’s picking on me,” he complains, which is totally the logical response, fuck you too, Spock. “You’re all just haters.”
“Don’t you be worrying, Cap’n, we love you just the way you are,” Scotty says loyally.
“Thank you, Scotty,” Jim says snidely, and flips Spock off, which gets him another one of those thin-lipped lemon looks from the lecturer.
“Mr. Kirk,” she snaps. “Putting aside your frankly unacceptable use of vulgar gestures-” Is there an acceptable use, he wonders? Would it be acceptable if it wasn’t him, perhaps? “-your treatment of Mr. Spock this afternoon has been continually offensive and insensitive to his cultural heritage. Discrimination against another being purely on the basis of their ethnicity is considered a very grave offence, regardless-no, especially given your high rank!”
“Hey, it’s got nothing to do with him being Vulcan,” Jim objects, actually kind of offended that someone would make that kind of accusation against him. “It’s because he’s being a bitch and he’s totally doing it on purpose. Honestly, some of my best friends are Vulcans.”
Spock raises a very expressive eyebrow. “Really, Captain.”
“Well, like you,” Jim explains. “When you’re not being a bitch. And… other you. You know.”
“I see,” Spock says, in that clinical tone of voice he has that doesn’t really tell you anything and makes Jim wonder what, precisely, he is seeing.
“Mr. Kirk,” the woman says sharply, interrupting what is possibly a Moment, and Jim sits up in his chair so he can look properly wronged and wounded.
“No, but seriously, I would never discriminate against anyone for their species or whatever,” he says earnestly, although that might be kind of a lie, because he’s not the universe’s biggest fan of Romulans or Klingons. Otherwise, though, it’s pretty accurate; he’s all about the equal opportunity, regardless of race, gender, or planetary origin.
“No one would ever accuse you of being discriminating, Jim,” Bones says dryly, and Jim scowls, because he was being serious (well, mostly) and Bones is having way too much fun over this whole stupid inappropriate workplace behavior thing.
“Would you all quit implying I’m some kind of intergalactic space slut?” he demands, and Bones raises an eyebrow in a passable imitation of Spock, obviously ready to hit back with another smartass remark. He’s beaten to the punch by Uhura, however.
“You’re the one who said it, Captain,” she tells him, with an arch smile like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, and Jim only just refrains from sticking his tongue out at her, because that’s an invitation on a fair number of planets and something tells him that the woman giving the lecture, who has a stick up her ass that might even be worse than Spock’s when they first met, would not be amused.
Instead, he affects a wounded expression and turns on the appeal. “They can’t say things like that about me, right?” he says, giving her his best sad and abused puppy eyes. “It’s damaging to my self-esteem and it makes me feel like no one respects me. As a sentient being.”
This is almost definitely overkill, especially considering he’s the captain around here and it’s partially his own fault for not commanding a more traditional hierarchy on his ship-if he really cared, he could assert his authority as head honcho and start making threats. Nevertheless, it hits the mark: the woman who has spent the entire afternoon frowning disapprovingly at him visibly melts before turning her stern tight-lipped glare on Bones, Uhura and Spock, and he thinks, Oh yeah, Jim Kirk’s still got it.
“There are to be no more personal remarks, insults or name-calling, particularly not regarding the sexual habits of another,” she says, like the wrath of an enraged Vulcan god, and Jim basks in the smugness while the three of them look suitably chastened. Or, okay, Uhura looks chastened and a bit sulky about it; Bones just kind of rolls his eyes grudgingly and Spock’s only reaction is a slight change to the angle of his eyebrows and shoulders, but it totally counts and Jim is willing to take whatever he can get.
“Anyhow, this concludes your compulsory seminar on appropriateness in the workplace,” the woman informs them after a deep fortifying breath to calm her rage at the victimization of Poor Little Jimmy. She even bestows a small, motherly smile on him before she gives Bones and Uhura another look best suited to child molesters, which, hah; payback is such a bitch. Jim Kirk loves being himself. “Hopefully you have all learned something valuable from today’s experience and I will not need to see any of you again for remedial classes. You’re dismissed-have a safe voyage.”
Several days later, when the Enterprise is just setting off on her next mission, over the course of a single shift Jim makes at least twelve lewd or otherwise blatantly inappropriate and/or suggestive remarks (not counting the unintentional ones), drapes himself over about half the consoles on the bridge and almost as many members of his crew, wolf-whistles Uhura’s new hair cut (she’d been in a rare good mood and had in fact repaid the compliment, since he was in plain clothes at the time and looking pretty damn fine if he did say so himself), and touches Spock in increasingly inappropriate ways throughout, since Spock had said he didn’t object and that was practically a free pass so far as Jim’s concerned.
As it turns out, he really didn’t mind, and Bones later walks in on them having sex in the captain’s chair, following which there is lots of screaming (Bones), laughing (Jim) and trauma (the entire crew, who have to hear about it) and Bones yells a lot about sanitation, green-blooded hobgoblins and Jim’s space crabs, complete lack of virtue and his future sterilization for the good of mankind, the galaxy, etcetera, all of which proves that basically nobody learned anything from that seminar and the Enterprise is set to continue being a seething hotbed of inappropriateness for the foreseeable future and probably so long as James Tiberius Kirk is her captain.
Jim knew his crew were awesome, dammit.