Star Trek XI Fic: "Four Letter Words" (Kirk/McCoy) Part One
Title: Four Letter Words
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG-13
Summary: You keep saying it, and one of these days you’ll actually mean it.
Warnings: none
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Disclaimer: These guys and this universe do not belong to me and I make no money off of this story.
Author's Notes: Thanks, as always, to [info]smittywing for the beta.
1. When he can blame xenolinguistics (and Jim Kirk)
Jim sets his overflowing tray down on the table and takes the bench across from Bones. "Hey."
Bones is using his fork to separate the bits of onion from his potato salad so he doesn't look up when he says, "Hey," back. A PADD is thrust right under his chin, forcing him to abandon his mission. He drops the fork and takes the PADD. There is a single line of text, definitely not English, but using the English alphabet. "The hell is this?"
"Something for my xenolinguistics class with Commander Tully." Jim spears the onions on Bones's plate and relocates them to his own. "Would you mind reading that out loud for me?"
Bones stares at him, waiting for the inevitable catch, but Jim seems pretty engaged in mixing the extra onions into his potato salad. Bones looks back down to the PADD and sounds out the line as best he can.
"That first ‘a’ should be hard, but that was pretty good," Jim says around a mouthful of food. "How about with more.... oomph."
"Jim, seriously." Bones holds the PADD out for Jim to take back.
Jim swallows his food and says, "Seriously, please," like he actually might need help.
Bones sighs deeply and says the line again - with a hard 'a' - forcefully, as if he’s asking for an instrument in the middle of surgery.
Jim's mouth twists to the side. "Okay, no. How about lightly, maybe. Like... huh. Okay, how do you sound when you're not pissed off?"
Bones stares at him and then says the line of text in as pissed off a voice as he can manage because he's about to throw his fork at Jim Kirk's face.
Jim's eyes go wide. Bones thinks - hopes - for a moment that the tone may have actually made a dent in Jim Kirk's shield of unstoppable good humor but then Jim grins widely and says, "Say it exactly like that. Right now."
There's a young female cadet approaching their table and Bones doesn't really need more than a second to realize that she must be the object of this stupid little show. He says it again, and actually manages to throw a bit more emotion behind it. The cadet's face falls and she ducks her head before she files past their table towards the exit.
Jim isn't even looking at her. He's staring at Bones, expression gleeful. "That was actually kind of hot, Bones."
Leonard McCoy knows that he has absolutely been had. "What the hell is going on?"
Jim uses his fork to fish out the remaining onions from Bones's plate. "That was Illuna from the Xenolinguistics club. She's a great girl, really sweet. Waiting for marriage kind of sweet. So I figured the best way of letting her down easy was not to have to let down at all."
With growing horror, Bones forces himself to ask, "Jim, what in hell did I just say?"
Jim smiles his biggest, brightest smile. The smile he gives grandmothers and kittens and top of the curve papers. The effect is ruined slightly by the piece of potato at the corner of his mouth. "You just told me you loved me. In Andorian."
"You are a fucking piece of work, Jim Kirk." Bones grabs his fork and points it viciously in Jim's general direction.
Jim doesn’t even blink. "You gonna finish your pie?"
2. When he can blame social customs (and Jim Kirk)
Bones looks between Spock, resolutely not on the transporter platform, and Jim, on the platform and glaring at Spock. Bones rolls his eyes. Just what he needed, a goddamned pissing match. “Should I come back?”
Jim shoots him a look, mouth a flat line.
Spock folds his hands behind his back. “The relationship between the Woyarum and the Federation is tentative at best. Our actions may greatly affect any future treaties.”
Jim folds his arms across his chest. “I know, Spock. I read the report and I listened to your briefing. I won’t touch any of them. No handshakes, no shoulder claps, no elbowing. I promise.” Jim’s serious tone must satisfy Spock’s concerns because he relents and takes his place on the pad.
“If it’s that sensitive a trip, I can just stay here.” Bones waves at the doors. The two security lieutenants behind Jim exchange looks.
“Get up here, Bones.” Jim narrows his eyes.
Spock inclines his head towards McCoy. “Perhaps the doctor’s suggestion has some merit.”
“Now,” Jim snapped.
Bones grins as he climbs onto the platform. “Sure thing, Jim.”
“Oh, just you wait,” Jim mutters darkly, He looks over at the console. “We’re ready, Scotty,”
The location they beam down to is the flat of a small, lush valley. The grass is knee high, bluish-grey, slightly sticky, and just about the only thing in sight. Except the group of four Woyarum standing near the mouth of the valley, visible despite their small stature due to the foot high hats they wore.
“You should bring Nyota back a hat,” Jim tells Spock as he heads confidently in the Woyarum’s direction. Bones takes up his place to Jim’s left and Spock falls in on Jim’s right. The two lieutenants from security bring up the rear.
When they get within spitting distance, the Woyaru at the front of the group bows his head. “We welcome you to Woyaru, representatives of Starfleet.” He speaks in a series of clicking noises that take Bones a moment to process into the words.
“Thank you for your generous welcome.” Jim returns the head bow that Bones has seen him practice here and there over the last week. “I’m Captain Kirk, this is Commander Spock, Dr. McCoy and Lieutenats Choi and Breuth.” Jim uses his full hand to indicate each member of the party.
“We are of Vihash,” the Woyaru says, indicating the small group. Bones remembers something about individual names being reserved for familial use but he can’t remember if they go by their place of origin or their place in the class structure. He doesn’t suppose it matters much at the moment.
“We shall take you to our High Council to begin negotiations.” The Woyarum make a synchronized turn and file out of the valley. Jim gives Bones a smile as they follow.
In the distance, the capital city of Woyaru towers above the plain, a series of sharp spires and circled walls. The grass is higher now that they’ve left the valley, about to the middle of Bones’s thigh and quite dense. The stickiness makes it feel like they’re wading through water.
Jim stumbles mid-step, pitching forward, arms thrown out in front of him.
Bones’s hand shoots out instinctively, catching Jim by the elbow. He helps Jim right himself and it’s only when he notices the silence that his brain catches up with his reflexes. He drops Jim’s arm like it burns and looks at their hosts with a sinking feeling in his chest.
The Woyarum are staring at them. Touching’s the worst taboo on the planet and he broke it all because these guys never bothered to invent lawnmowers.
“That wasn’t-“ Bones cuts himself off when he realizes that he has no idea what he should say.
“He meant no disrespect,” Jim plasters on his best ‘we’re totally harmless’ face.
Spock cuts in smoothly. “We are aware of your laws. The doctor acted in accordance to them.”
The head Woyaru flicks his eyes between Jim and Bones uncertainly.
Jim smiles winningly. Spock eyes McCoy so he smiles near as big as Jim does, saying, “Absolutely,” even though he has no idea what exactly he’s agreeing with.
The Woyarum break into a small conference of clicks and whistles, none of which make any sense to Bones at all.
Spock takes a small step backwards, to line himself up with Bones, and says very quietly, “I assure you, Doctor, the social mores of this culture are quite strict."
Bones stares at him blankly, racking his brain trying to remember the specifics of the briefing. The only people who could touch in public were-- “Right,” Bones says, resigned.
“Doctor McCoy,” one of the Woyaru in the back of the group speaks, this one wearing a pale blue hat with gold embroidery. “Is your relationship with Captain Kirk elevated?”
Bones sucks it up and says exactly what he’s supposed to. “I’m in love with him, yeah.”
Jim’s smile widens impossibly and he opens his mouth to say something. Spock arches an eyebrow sharply and McCoy’s suddenly pretty clear on what the Vulcan version of shut the hell up looks like. Jim snaps his mouth shut.
The Woyarum confer again. Bones shoots Spock a look, concerned that maybe he’d fucked that up somehow, but Spock is staring determinedly ahead.
The Woyaru that greeted them originally steps away from the group again. “We thank you, delegates, for respecting our ways. And we will respect yours. Captain, you and your Beloved will be allowed to caress within our cities. It is acceptable to us that your express your elevation.”
“Thank you,” Jim says promptly.
The Woyarum smile in unison, looking relieved as far as Bones can tell. They turn back around and continue their journey to the city without another word.
Spock surveys Bones and Jim. “I suggest you accept the Woyarum’s generous offer. To do otherwise would be considered a great offense.” He turns and follows the Woyarum briskly.
"He's totally pissed," Jim says, tone caught somewhere between amusement and surprise.
Bones sighs. "You did that on purpose."
Jim wraps his hand around Bones’s, threading their fingers together. He leans in close, bumping their shoulders, and says cheerfully, “Try not to look like you’re going to throw up on me.”
3. When he can blame drugs (and Jim Kirk)
Bones takes the tea from the bowing Chikth, Phviolo, while Spock excuses Jim's tardiness. Being stuck in a holo conference with Admirals Barnett and Pike is a pretty good excuse, actually, but the Chikth were notoriously adamant about timeliness.
Phviolo asks, “You have all been tested for the appropriate allergies?” while handing Uhura and Spock their cups.
The Chikth had beamed up food and drink samples for testing that morning, which is something Bones is thinking about asking for before every treaty negotiation. It’s damned polite, is what it is. “Our captain won’t be able to eat your food but the rest of the team tested negative,” Bones answers.
"That is unfortunate, of course," Phviolo wobbles her head, "but we appreciate your honesty and trust that your captain will accord himself respectfully during his time here."
Spock bows his head toward Phviolo. "Of course." For being a Vulcan his voice has a tone that sounds remarkably to McCoy like 'it's pretty damned rude to infer otherwise.'
Phivolo doesn't seem to notice the tone. She sets aside the tray and holds her own mug aloft in the space between them. Bones, Spock, and Uhura raise theirs in kind.
"May our meeting bear fruit and friendship," Phivolo says.
They repeat after her and then all four drink from their mugs. The tea smells faintly of citrus but it tastes like spearmint and Bones decides he likes it well enough.
"Talks will begin shortly." Phivolo picks the tray back up, nodding to them and shuffling towards the door. Before she steps through she turns her long torso around to look at them. She says gravely, “We believe civility is the single most important aspect to trade negotiations.”
The doors slides shut behind her and, uneasy, Bones says, “Well that was pleasant.” It isn’t what he meant to say. He meant to say it was weird.
“Really, Doctor?” Spock asks. “I found it most exceptional.” His eyebrows furrow as soon as he finishes.
"Don't you mean polite." Uhura slaps a hand to her mouth, her expression abruptly concerned.
“I didn’t mean pleasant I meant-“ fucking weird “really enjoyable.” McCoy snaps his mouth shut and breaks out his tricorder because hell if losing control of his own words is normal. “I’m getting abnormal readings from Broca’s area, all right.”
"Given the timing, it is likely that the tea we consumed contains agents to affect our neurological responses." Spock holds his cup out, still a quarter full.
McCoy scans Uhura and Spock, coming up with comparable readings. "That's--" ridiculous "brilliant.They want us to negotiate a treaty saying things we don't mean."
“Civility is the single most important aspect to trade negotiations,” Uhura quotes grimly.
Bones read the brief on the negotiations. He focused mainly on the medical technology at the heart of the trade, but he's sure he would've remembered any references to mandatory biological agents. “Oh, I’ll show them civility.”
“It is unlikely that a show of pleasure would benefit the negotiations,” Spock hedges closer to the door, effectively blocking McCoy’s access to it.
“Are you,” out of your mind “quite clear, man? We” can’t “can negotiate like this.”
“Correct,” Spock nods. “However, the captain, being unable to consume their food, should be free of the effects.”
“You want the captain to negotiate?” Uhura’s insult wasn’t in the words, just implied.
“I believe it is the best course of action.”
Uhura singles McCoy out with a look and he just shrugs because, unless he manages to get back to the ship and discover an antidote in the next few minutes, they’re pretty well out of options.
“We could still” call the whole thing off “change our minds,” McCoy says.
Before Spock or Uhura can reply, the door opens.
Jim comes in, eyebrows furrowed and looking about the way McCoy feels. “Did I do something to piss them off? Because I think I just got told to play nice with the other kids. And outside of a few rare occasions -that, yeah, all of you have been around for - I’m actually pretty good at playing nice. Right Nyota?”
Uhura narrows her eyes, "You are the most amazing man I have ever worked with."
Jim stops short, right eyebrow skewing upwards.
"You are without equal," Spock agrees evenly.
Jim pulls out his phaser. "Okay, that's just not fair. This is the one mission where I didn't come prepared for mind control."
“We’re not under mind control, Jim,” McCoy says flatly. “We’ve been” drugged “inoculated.”
Jim doesn’t lower his phaser. “I don’t think that means what you think that means.”
"It appears that an ingredient in Chikth ceremonial tea prohibits those who ingest it from saying anything that could be construed as positive," Spock attempts to explain.
Jim tilts his head at Spock, visibly trying to work out what he’d said.
Bones shoves his tricorder towards Jim’s free hand. Jim takes it, then backs further away from them all to check out the readings. After a minute, Jim narrows his eyes dubiously. “They drugged you. To be nice to me.”
“To everybody,” Bones corrects.
“Sure,” Jim agrees, “but can I just point out that you apparently have to be drugged to be nice to me.”
Spock turns to face the window. “Your appreciation of the gravity of the situation is commendable, Captain.”
“I always knew you were using logic to tell me off,” Jim says smugly.
“You are such a brilliant man.” Uhura folds her arms over her chest and Bones has to appreciate her ability to make anything sound insulting with just the right emphasis.
Jim snickers and then coughs to try to cover it up. “So, okay.”
“Starfleet indicated that these negotiations were a high priority and it would wise to continue, if possible.”
McCoy’s about ninety percent sure that Spock’s managed to change his word selection process to lessen the tea’s impact. It’s damned annoying.
“Yeah, Pike and Barnett really stressed that before I came down here.” Jim worries at his bottom lip. “They didn’t mention the drugged up negotiators thing, though. And I’m going to have to say a big ‘no’ to drinking the crazy tea.”
“You’re allergic, Jim,” McCoy points out.
A grin spreads slowly across Jim’s face. “So, they can’t do anything to me.”
“The Chikth might ask you to return to the Enterprise if you don’t maintain civility,” Uhura points out.
“Yeah, but that’s only if I say something out of line.” Jim waggles a finger at her. “Which I don’t think is going to happen.”
“Jim, we know you.” McCoy’s surprised that his words didn’t come out completely mangled because he really didn’t mean that in a positive way.
Jim rolls his eyes. “I can keep my mouth shut. At least until things go south.”
Spock and Uhura exchange looks and then glance at McCoy. McCoy shrugs because he knows Jim can keep his tongue but he sure doesn’t always choose to.
Jim circles the small room. “Obviously we need a plan of attack.”
“It would be welcome if you would refrain from using peaceful language,” Spock points out.
Jim blinks, just a half second’s thought, and then he nods. “Stop sounding like a warrior, start sounding like a negotiator. Got it.”
Uhura’s mouth twists and it’s pretty obvious that she’s trying to come up with a positive way to say what she’s thinking. “I still think returning might be better?”
Spock shakes his head. “It is still possible that our goals can be accomplished if the Captain can prevent any… complications.”
“You do the talking, I’ll do the objecting,” Jim smiles at Spock the way he always does before he follows Spock’s plan.
“You’ll always know when to agree?” McCoy’s pleased with the level of sarcasm he fits into the sentence.
“I think the minute any of you start sweet-talking people, it’ll be a pretty big clue,” Jim says, like he thinks they’re all being idiots.
Uhura shakes her head, her ponytail making a graceful arc behind her. “Captain.”
“Come on, it'll be great,” Jim says, clearly already sold on the plan. “You guys can play good cop and I’ll make sure you don’t agree to anything if you’re too pissed off to say no.”
Spock nods firmly at Jim, “I believe the plan may be sufficient.”
Jim smirks. “What you saying is, that I’m awesome. Good to know.”
The five minute warning chime rings out across the room.
“We should make our way to the assembly room,” Spock says. Jim waves for him to lead the way and Spock exits the room, followed closely by Uhura, who’s schooling her expression into something that doesn’t promise violence.
“This is gonna be fun.” Jim throws his arm around Bones's shoulder as they leave the room. "I bet you'll say more nice things to me today than you've said in the last five years."
“I love you,” Bones says nastily.
Jim smiles weakly, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden, and Bones is pretty damn pleased that his ability to threaten clearly hasn’t been affected at all.
Part Two
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG-13
Summary: You keep saying it, and one of these days you’ll actually mean it.
Warnings: none
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Disclaimer: These guys and this universe do not belong to me and I make no money off of this story.
Author's Notes: Thanks, as always, to [info]smittywing for the beta.
1. When he can blame xenolinguistics (and Jim Kirk)
Jim sets his overflowing tray down on the table and takes the bench across from Bones. "Hey."
Bones is using his fork to separate the bits of onion from his potato salad so he doesn't look up when he says, "Hey," back. A PADD is thrust right under his chin, forcing him to abandon his mission. He drops the fork and takes the PADD. There is a single line of text, definitely not English, but using the English alphabet. "The hell is this?"
"Something for my xenolinguistics class with Commander Tully." Jim spears the onions on Bones's plate and relocates them to his own. "Would you mind reading that out loud for me?"
Bones stares at him, waiting for the inevitable catch, but Jim seems pretty engaged in mixing the extra onions into his potato salad. Bones looks back down to the PADD and sounds out the line as best he can.
"That first ‘a’ should be hard, but that was pretty good," Jim says around a mouthful of food. "How about with more.... oomph."
"Jim, seriously." Bones holds the PADD out for Jim to take back.
Jim swallows his food and says, "Seriously, please," like he actually might need help.
Bones sighs deeply and says the line again - with a hard 'a' - forcefully, as if he’s asking for an instrument in the middle of surgery.
Jim's mouth twists to the side. "Okay, no. How about lightly, maybe. Like... huh. Okay, how do you sound when you're not pissed off?"
Bones stares at him and then says the line of text in as pissed off a voice as he can manage because he's about to throw his fork at Jim Kirk's face.
Jim's eyes go wide. Bones thinks - hopes - for a moment that the tone may have actually made a dent in Jim Kirk's shield of unstoppable good humor but then Jim grins widely and says, "Say it exactly like that. Right now."
There's a young female cadet approaching their table and Bones doesn't really need more than a second to realize that she must be the object of this stupid little show. He says it again, and actually manages to throw a bit more emotion behind it. The cadet's face falls and she ducks her head before she files past their table towards the exit.
Jim isn't even looking at her. He's staring at Bones, expression gleeful. "That was actually kind of hot, Bones."
Leonard McCoy knows that he has absolutely been had. "What the hell is going on?"
Jim uses his fork to fish out the remaining onions from Bones's plate. "That was Illuna from the Xenolinguistics club. She's a great girl, really sweet. Waiting for marriage kind of sweet. So I figured the best way of letting her down easy was not to have to let down at all."
With growing horror, Bones forces himself to ask, "Jim, what in hell did I just say?"
Jim smiles his biggest, brightest smile. The smile he gives grandmothers and kittens and top of the curve papers. The effect is ruined slightly by the piece of potato at the corner of his mouth. "You just told me you loved me. In Andorian."
"You are a fucking piece of work, Jim Kirk." Bones grabs his fork and points it viciously in Jim's general direction.
Jim doesn’t even blink. "You gonna finish your pie?"
2. When he can blame social customs (and Jim Kirk)
Bones looks between Spock, resolutely not on the transporter platform, and Jim, on the platform and glaring at Spock. Bones rolls his eyes. Just what he needed, a goddamned pissing match. “Should I come back?”
Jim shoots him a look, mouth a flat line.
Spock folds his hands behind his back. “The relationship between the Woyarum and the Federation is tentative at best. Our actions may greatly affect any future treaties.”
Jim folds his arms across his chest. “I know, Spock. I read the report and I listened to your briefing. I won’t touch any of them. No handshakes, no shoulder claps, no elbowing. I promise.” Jim’s serious tone must satisfy Spock’s concerns because he relents and takes his place on the pad.
“If it’s that sensitive a trip, I can just stay here.” Bones waves at the doors. The two security lieutenants behind Jim exchange looks.
“Get up here, Bones.” Jim narrows his eyes.
Spock inclines his head towards McCoy. “Perhaps the doctor’s suggestion has some merit.”
“Now,” Jim snapped.
Bones grins as he climbs onto the platform. “Sure thing, Jim.”
“Oh, just you wait,” Jim mutters darkly, He looks over at the console. “We’re ready, Scotty,”
The location they beam down to is the flat of a small, lush valley. The grass is knee high, bluish-grey, slightly sticky, and just about the only thing in sight. Except the group of four Woyarum standing near the mouth of the valley, visible despite their small stature due to the foot high hats they wore.
“You should bring Nyota back a hat,” Jim tells Spock as he heads confidently in the Woyarum’s direction. Bones takes up his place to Jim’s left and Spock falls in on Jim’s right. The two lieutenants from security bring up the rear.
When they get within spitting distance, the Woyaru at the front of the group bows his head. “We welcome you to Woyaru, representatives of Starfleet.” He speaks in a series of clicking noises that take Bones a moment to process into the words.
“Thank you for your generous welcome.” Jim returns the head bow that Bones has seen him practice here and there over the last week. “I’m Captain Kirk, this is Commander Spock, Dr. McCoy and Lieutenats Choi and Breuth.” Jim uses his full hand to indicate each member of the party.
“We are of Vihash,” the Woyaru says, indicating the small group. Bones remembers something about individual names being reserved for familial use but he can’t remember if they go by their place of origin or their place in the class structure. He doesn’t suppose it matters much at the moment.
“We shall take you to our High Council to begin negotiations.” The Woyarum make a synchronized turn and file out of the valley. Jim gives Bones a smile as they follow.
In the distance, the capital city of Woyaru towers above the plain, a series of sharp spires and circled walls. The grass is higher now that they’ve left the valley, about to the middle of Bones’s thigh and quite dense. The stickiness makes it feel like they’re wading through water.
Jim stumbles mid-step, pitching forward, arms thrown out in front of him.
Bones’s hand shoots out instinctively, catching Jim by the elbow. He helps Jim right himself and it’s only when he notices the silence that his brain catches up with his reflexes. He drops Jim’s arm like it burns and looks at their hosts with a sinking feeling in his chest.
The Woyarum are staring at them. Touching’s the worst taboo on the planet and he broke it all because these guys never bothered to invent lawnmowers.
“That wasn’t-“ Bones cuts himself off when he realizes that he has no idea what he should say.
“He meant no disrespect,” Jim plasters on his best ‘we’re totally harmless’ face.
Spock cuts in smoothly. “We are aware of your laws. The doctor acted in accordance to them.”
The head Woyaru flicks his eyes between Jim and Bones uncertainly.
Jim smiles winningly. Spock eyes McCoy so he smiles near as big as Jim does, saying, “Absolutely,” even though he has no idea what exactly he’s agreeing with.
The Woyarum break into a small conference of clicks and whistles, none of which make any sense to Bones at all.
Spock takes a small step backwards, to line himself up with Bones, and says very quietly, “I assure you, Doctor, the social mores of this culture are quite strict."
Bones stares at him blankly, racking his brain trying to remember the specifics of the briefing. The only people who could touch in public were-- “Right,” Bones says, resigned.
“Doctor McCoy,” one of the Woyaru in the back of the group speaks, this one wearing a pale blue hat with gold embroidery. “Is your relationship with Captain Kirk elevated?”
Bones sucks it up and says exactly what he’s supposed to. “I’m in love with him, yeah.”
Jim’s smile widens impossibly and he opens his mouth to say something. Spock arches an eyebrow sharply and McCoy’s suddenly pretty clear on what the Vulcan version of shut the hell up looks like. Jim snaps his mouth shut.
The Woyarum confer again. Bones shoots Spock a look, concerned that maybe he’d fucked that up somehow, but Spock is staring determinedly ahead.
The Woyaru that greeted them originally steps away from the group again. “We thank you, delegates, for respecting our ways. And we will respect yours. Captain, you and your Beloved will be allowed to caress within our cities. It is acceptable to us that your express your elevation.”
“Thank you,” Jim says promptly.
The Woyarum smile in unison, looking relieved as far as Bones can tell. They turn back around and continue their journey to the city without another word.
Spock surveys Bones and Jim. “I suggest you accept the Woyarum’s generous offer. To do otherwise would be considered a great offense.” He turns and follows the Woyarum briskly.
"He's totally pissed," Jim says, tone caught somewhere between amusement and surprise.
Bones sighs. "You did that on purpose."
Jim wraps his hand around Bones’s, threading their fingers together. He leans in close, bumping their shoulders, and says cheerfully, “Try not to look like you’re going to throw up on me.”
3. When he can blame drugs (and Jim Kirk)
Bones takes the tea from the bowing Chikth, Phviolo, while Spock excuses Jim's tardiness. Being stuck in a holo conference with Admirals Barnett and Pike is a pretty good excuse, actually, but the Chikth were notoriously adamant about timeliness.
Phviolo asks, “You have all been tested for the appropriate allergies?” while handing Uhura and Spock their cups.
The Chikth had beamed up food and drink samples for testing that morning, which is something Bones is thinking about asking for before every treaty negotiation. It’s damned polite, is what it is. “Our captain won’t be able to eat your food but the rest of the team tested negative,” Bones answers.
"That is unfortunate, of course," Phviolo wobbles her head, "but we appreciate your honesty and trust that your captain will accord himself respectfully during his time here."
Spock bows his head toward Phviolo. "Of course." For being a Vulcan his voice has a tone that sounds remarkably to McCoy like 'it's pretty damned rude to infer otherwise.'
Phivolo doesn't seem to notice the tone. She sets aside the tray and holds her own mug aloft in the space between them. Bones, Spock, and Uhura raise theirs in kind.
"May our meeting bear fruit and friendship," Phivolo says.
They repeat after her and then all four drink from their mugs. The tea smells faintly of citrus but it tastes like spearmint and Bones decides he likes it well enough.
"Talks will begin shortly." Phivolo picks the tray back up, nodding to them and shuffling towards the door. Before she steps through she turns her long torso around to look at them. She says gravely, “We believe civility is the single most important aspect to trade negotiations.”
The doors slides shut behind her and, uneasy, Bones says, “Well that was pleasant.” It isn’t what he meant to say. He meant to say it was weird.
“Really, Doctor?” Spock asks. “I found it most exceptional.” His eyebrows furrow as soon as he finishes.
"Don't you mean polite." Uhura slaps a hand to her mouth, her expression abruptly concerned.
“I didn’t mean pleasant I meant-“ fucking weird “really enjoyable.” McCoy snaps his mouth shut and breaks out his tricorder because hell if losing control of his own words is normal. “I’m getting abnormal readings from Broca’s area, all right.”
"Given the timing, it is likely that the tea we consumed contains agents to affect our neurological responses." Spock holds his cup out, still a quarter full.
McCoy scans Uhura and Spock, coming up with comparable readings. "That's--" ridiculous "brilliant.They want us to negotiate a treaty saying things we don't mean."
“Civility is the single most important aspect to trade negotiations,” Uhura quotes grimly.
Bones read the brief on the negotiations. He focused mainly on the medical technology at the heart of the trade, but he's sure he would've remembered any references to mandatory biological agents. “Oh, I’ll show them civility.”
“It is unlikely that a show of pleasure would benefit the negotiations,” Spock hedges closer to the door, effectively blocking McCoy’s access to it.
“Are you,” out of your mind “quite clear, man? We” can’t “can negotiate like this.”
“Correct,” Spock nods. “However, the captain, being unable to consume their food, should be free of the effects.”
“You want the captain to negotiate?” Uhura’s insult wasn’t in the words, just implied.
“I believe it is the best course of action.”
Uhura singles McCoy out with a look and he just shrugs because, unless he manages to get back to the ship and discover an antidote in the next few minutes, they’re pretty well out of options.
“We could still” call the whole thing off “change our minds,” McCoy says.
Before Spock or Uhura can reply, the door opens.
Jim comes in, eyebrows furrowed and looking about the way McCoy feels. “Did I do something to piss them off? Because I think I just got told to play nice with the other kids. And outside of a few rare occasions -that, yeah, all of you have been around for - I’m actually pretty good at playing nice. Right Nyota?”
Uhura narrows her eyes, "You are the most amazing man I have ever worked with."
Jim stops short, right eyebrow skewing upwards.
"You are without equal," Spock agrees evenly.
Jim pulls out his phaser. "Okay, that's just not fair. This is the one mission where I didn't come prepared for mind control."
“We’re not under mind control, Jim,” McCoy says flatly. “We’ve been” drugged “inoculated.”
Jim doesn’t lower his phaser. “I don’t think that means what you think that means.”
"It appears that an ingredient in Chikth ceremonial tea prohibits those who ingest it from saying anything that could be construed as positive," Spock attempts to explain.
Jim tilts his head at Spock, visibly trying to work out what he’d said.
Bones shoves his tricorder towards Jim’s free hand. Jim takes it, then backs further away from them all to check out the readings. After a minute, Jim narrows his eyes dubiously. “They drugged you. To be nice to me.”
“To everybody,” Bones corrects.
“Sure,” Jim agrees, “but can I just point out that you apparently have to be drugged to be nice to me.”
Spock turns to face the window. “Your appreciation of the gravity of the situation is commendable, Captain.”
“I always knew you were using logic to tell me off,” Jim says smugly.
“You are such a brilliant man.” Uhura folds her arms over her chest and Bones has to appreciate her ability to make anything sound insulting with just the right emphasis.
Jim snickers and then coughs to try to cover it up. “So, okay.”
“Starfleet indicated that these negotiations were a high priority and it would wise to continue, if possible.”
McCoy’s about ninety percent sure that Spock’s managed to change his word selection process to lessen the tea’s impact. It’s damned annoying.
“Yeah, Pike and Barnett really stressed that before I came down here.” Jim worries at his bottom lip. “They didn’t mention the drugged up negotiators thing, though. And I’m going to have to say a big ‘no’ to drinking the crazy tea.”
“You’re allergic, Jim,” McCoy points out.
A grin spreads slowly across Jim’s face. “So, they can’t do anything to me.”
“The Chikth might ask you to return to the Enterprise if you don’t maintain civility,” Uhura points out.
“Yeah, but that’s only if I say something out of line.” Jim waggles a finger at her. “Which I don’t think is going to happen.”
“Jim, we know you.” McCoy’s surprised that his words didn’t come out completely mangled because he really didn’t mean that in a positive way.
Jim rolls his eyes. “I can keep my mouth shut. At least until things go south.”
Spock and Uhura exchange looks and then glance at McCoy. McCoy shrugs because he knows Jim can keep his tongue but he sure doesn’t always choose to.
Jim circles the small room. “Obviously we need a plan of attack.”
“It would be welcome if you would refrain from using peaceful language,” Spock points out.
Jim blinks, just a half second’s thought, and then he nods. “Stop sounding like a warrior, start sounding like a negotiator. Got it.”
Uhura’s mouth twists and it’s pretty obvious that she’s trying to come up with a positive way to say what she’s thinking. “I still think returning might be better?”
Spock shakes his head. “It is still possible that our goals can be accomplished if the Captain can prevent any… complications.”
“You do the talking, I’ll do the objecting,” Jim smiles at Spock the way he always does before he follows Spock’s plan.
“You’ll always know when to agree?” McCoy’s pleased with the level of sarcasm he fits into the sentence.
“I think the minute any of you start sweet-talking people, it’ll be a pretty big clue,” Jim says, like he thinks they’re all being idiots.
Uhura shakes her head, her ponytail making a graceful arc behind her. “Captain.”
“Come on, it'll be great,” Jim says, clearly already sold on the plan. “You guys can play good cop and I’ll make sure you don’t agree to anything if you’re too pissed off to say no.”
Spock nods firmly at Jim, “I believe the plan may be sufficient.”
Jim smirks. “What you saying is, that I’m awesome. Good to know.”
The five minute warning chime rings out across the room.
“We should make our way to the assembly room,” Spock says. Jim waves for him to lead the way and Spock exits the room, followed closely by Uhura, who’s schooling her expression into something that doesn’t promise violence.
“This is gonna be fun.” Jim throws his arm around Bones's shoulder as they leave the room. "I bet you'll say more nice things to me today than you've said in the last five years."
“I love you,” Bones says nastily.
Jim smiles weakly, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden, and Bones is pretty damn pleased that his ability to threaten clearly hasn’t been affected at all.
Part Two