"Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold"
Summary: Spock refuses to eat McCoy's homemade meal...but the CMO is gonna change that.
D/C: I don't own Star Trek or McCoy's food.
A/N: Read my other stories and review them too...like this one. Please. This does have a minute amount of Out of Character characters but...whatever. It's funny, so here's...
"Revenge is a dish..."
McCoy spent the whole day preparing dinner and dessert for the bridge. He hadn't wanted to, in fact, he had said he'd rather be, "'Boiled in hot oil with no one but Spock or some other logical dingbat for company.'" But Kirk insisted that, since McCoy had broken the food replicator, he had to serve dinner.
And McCoy had broken the food replicator, but not out of vengeance. He had only tried to serve twenty patients hot chicken soup...and had told the replicator to give him twenty. The 'stupid device' (as McCoy had muttered later) broke down under the pressure. Scotty had fixed up the replicators in less than two minutes, but Kirk told McCoy he had to 'pay for what he had done.'
"What have I done?" McCoy had asked. "Only cause two minutes worth of trouble. No big deal...I bet Jim just wanted to torture me." He had then grabbed his spatula, a recipe book, protective eye goggles, and went to work.
Six hours, two broken spatulas, four eggs thrown at a wall in frustration, and flour all over the sickbay's floor later, McCoy was finished. Steak, sautéed in onions, with steamed corn and carrots on the side, was on the menu. And for dessert, a big chocolate cake. McCoy was, needless to say, pleased with himself.
The whole bridge was assembled in the Rec Room in their finest attire. "Sit down, everybody." McCoy ordered. "And have some great wine." He began to pour it himself.
"You're awfully submissive tonight." said Kirk, sipping the wine. "It's very becoming."
"Oh, shut up!" McCoy growled.
"Now, that's more like the Bones I know." Kirk said.
"Some wine, Spock?" McCoy joked, picking up the Vulcan's glass.
"None, Doctor. Consuming alcohol is illogical." Spock said.
"But it's good."
"If you assume that by taste, that is subject to debate. Consuming alcohol is not good for one's health."
"I'm a doctor, I know that." McCoy said.
"Then why do you consume alcohol?"
"Because it tastes good!"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Humans are so illogical."
"What's for dinner?" Kirk asked, breaking their argument.
"Steak sautéed in onions, and some vegetables." McCoy answered. "I made it myself."
"You should have." Kirk said. "I wouldn't trust you with a replicator anymore." McCoy glared at him.
"Steak, Doctor?" Spock asked. "I am a vegetarian."
"Well too damn bad." McCoy growled. "You should have told me in advance."
"You know that I am a vegetarian, Doctor."
"Might have slipped my mind when I was forced-" he shot a glance at Kirk- "to make dinner."
"That is no excuse, Doctor." Spock said. "I will eat the vegetables as a meal instead."
McCoy felt steam coming out his ears. He had made a delicious dinner, and Spock insisted on shunning his food. He could just have politely declined drinking the wine or eating the steak, but no! Spock had to make a huge deal out of it. McCoy broke a glass, his fists were clenched so hard. Spock would get his comeuppance, alright. And McCoy was the perfect one to give it to him.
"Well, Spock, a few vegetables are no meal." McCoy said. "You need a fully balanced dinner. I'll get you something myself."
He rushed out of the room, and ran to sickbay. "Hm…cordrazine, no…how about…no. Ah ha!" He pulled out a small bottle filled with pink liquid. "Perfect." He went to the replicators and got a huge salad with Ranch dressing. He poured the pink liquid all over the salad.
"Here you are, Spock. I put some nutrients into it for you." McCoy said. "No need to say thank you. Vulcans don't thank each other, right? How rude."
"Vulcans are not rude, Doctor." Spock said.
"What a great meal!" Kirk interrupted, again avoiding an argument. "How did you do it? Country doctor instinct?"
"Some cow meat, onions, and fermented grapes." McCoy told him. Kirk chuckled.
"You did not count the vegetables you served." Spock said. "Nor the water that-"
"Eat up, Spock." said McCoy, taking a handful of salad and shoving it down Spock's throat.
"That-" Spock's eyebrows raised, and he coughed.
"You alright, Spock?" Kirk asked.
Spock could do nothing but cough. "Obviously- cough, cough- not."
"I'll take him to sickbay." McCoy said. "You all keep enjoying yourselves."
"Do you think it was sabotage?" Uhura asked, nodding to the salad.
"I vould bet on it." Chekov said.
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McCoy hauled the still-coughing Spock to sickbay. "Don't worry. I can heal anything." Spock raised an eyebrow. "Fine then, if you don't believe me, I'll let you cough." The Vulcan shook his head. "Okay, drink this." He gave him a blue liquid. Spock instantly swallowed the drink, and his coughing abruptly stopped. "Feeling better? Now, I have some questions to ask you. What is your last name?"
Spock tried to argue with the doctor, but found he could not. He said it.
"Why do you insist on arguing with me?"
"Because you need to be corrected in your human errors." Spock answered. "What are you doing to me, Doctor?"
McCoy fingered the bottle. "It's called pentroxine. It's a liquid that enables a doctor to question a subject and even force it to do his will. Amazing, isn't it?"
Spock felt a feeling of dread.
"Now, let's liven up my little party, eh?" McCoy asked.
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Spock and McCoy went back to the dinner party as they had left, with two exceptions: 1, Spock was not coughing and 2, he was smiling.
No, it was more than a smile. Spock was grinning like there was no tomorrow. Kirk dropped his fork, and Uhura nearly fell off her seat. Scotty dropped the glass of Scotch he had been drinking, and Sulu and Chekov just began to laugh.
"Are you alright, Spock?" Kirk choked out.
"I'm just wonderful, Jimmy!" Spock said, still grinning. "Now, McCoy, get me some whiskey!"
"That's a little strong for someone who never drinks," McCoy said in mock concern. "Are you sure?"
"Lay it on me, Bones!" Spock said.
McCoy drained a quarter bottle of Scotch into Spock's glass. "There you go." McCoy said, trying to keep a straight face. The whole bridge stared as Spock chugged it down.
"That was great!" Spock said. "Where's the steak?"
"You're a vegetarian," Chekov reminded him. "Like all Wulcans."
"It's called 'Vulcan', Pavel, and I want some good ol beef!" Spock cried. "McCoy-"
"I'll get you some." McCoy growled. "What am I, your servant?" He went into the kitchen and began to laugh.
As soon as he got the steak, Spock began to rip it apart with his teeth, grabbing the steak with his hands. The bridge watched. Uhura lost her appetite, while everyone else just stared in shock.
"Now, for dessert." McCoy said. "Chocolate cake and ice cream." He laid the dessert on the middle of the table.
Spock jumped on the table and began to stuff his mouth with cake and ice cream. He picked up a piece of the cake and threw it in the face of Captain James T. Kirk.
Silence. The captain appeared to be in shock that his First Officer would throw chocolate cake in his face.
Kirk responded by wiping off the chocolate and throwing it back at Spock. The First Officer began to throw cake at everyone- except, suspiciously enough, McCoy.
Uhura was in a ice cream fight with Sulu, and Chekov was battling Scotty with a piece of cake. Spock was still eating the molten remains of the chocolate and ice cream. Kirk looked at McCoy, and drew a finger across his throat.
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"I didn't do anything!" McCoy said. "Ask him yourself!" The CMO had been pulled out of the dining room by Kirk and out into the main hall. Ensigns and yeoman stared at the captain covered in chocolate.
"Oh, yes you did!" Kirk said. "And I'll prove it, too!"
"How?"
Nurse Chapel ran up, and stopped at the sight of Kirk in chocolate. "Um…" she said, apparently momentarily forgetting why she had come. "Dr. McCoy, a bottle of fristine and a bottle of pentroxine have been emptied!"
"And what do those do?" Kirk asked.
"Well, sir, fristine gives the patient a severe cough, while pentroxine make the patient answer all questions truthfully and do the doctor's will." Nurse Chapel told him.
"Ah!" said Kirk. "Thank you, Nurse Chapel. I think I know where those chemicals went." He glared at McCoy, who was backing up.
"Jim, it was for your own good." McCoy said.
"How?" Kirk yelled. "To show me that I should never let Spock near a chocolate cake?!"
"No, you should never force me to cook."
Kirk sighed. "So this was just revenge on me for making you cook?"
"And revenge on Spock. He didn't eat anything."
"You've trashed the dining room for your own revenge?!" Kirk yelled. "It's a mixture of ice cream and chocolate in there! Your revenge recipe!"
McCoy shrugged, grabbed a piece of ice cream off Kirk's shoulder, and ate it. "Revenge is a dish best served cold, Jim."
FIN
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