Cook
Leonard McCoy sat pensively in his dark dorm room that he was sharing with the errant cadet who called himself his friend. Well, was his friend. His irritating, and, at this moment, drunkenly slutty, friend. Why did God do this kind of shit to him?
He could hear Kirk and the girl-of-the-hour outside in the hallway. They were clearly making some sort of attempt at tact and sneakiness in getting into the room. "No, no, its ok," Kirk slurred through the closed door, "I just have to remember the ifentdif-idefity. The ID code." The girl giggled again. "Hey! Watch where you are putting' those tentacles, sweetheart."
McCoy could almost see the lewd wink that Kirk was most likely throwing at the girl. There was more beeping and giggling, and then Kirk finally managed to pry open the door, no doubt using one of his tricks instead of the actual code. Every time Kirk got wasted, McCoy ended up being the one who had to call one of the engineering cadets to fix it. His revenge was refusing to give Kirk a 'fixer' hypo.
The light streamed in from the hallway through the open door, disturbing McCoy's self-imposed Fortress of Solitude.
Kirk giggled and tumbled into the room, landing in a pile of limbs, tentacles and a small plant that Bones had been growing fungus on.
"Finally!" Kirk said, very loudly, before quickly shushing himself.
The girl giggled again, and Bones could, in fact, see a tentacle rising up from somewhere below her right arm. This time it was Kirk who was giggling.
Bones cursed in his mind. He didn't have the time to deal with Kirk's bullshit tonight. He turned on the light by the couch abruptly.
Both Kirk and the girl squealed, and she moved her body in front of her tentacles to hide whatever she had been doing to his best friend.
McCoy despondently put his head in his hands. "Damnit, Jim, we talked about this, no friends when I have an exam in the morning. I don't wanna be mentally scarred by whatever the fuck your doing. We live in the same room. Ain't fair to my poor, impressionable brain."
"But Bones" Kirk whined, "I know you were awake. So it's like, not bad, or anything. It's not like I'm waking you up."
The girl started speaking in a strange language that sounded not unlike gurgling under water to Bones. Kirk responded to her, and her eyes widened. She quickly picked up her purse with her left tentacle and ran out of the room.
"What on earth did you say to her?"
"I dunno. I was trying to say that you were a hardass and bitchy, and wanted her outta here, but she could totally stay if she wanted to. I might have fucked with the pronouns on accidentally. Or something."
"Brilliant. You gonna go to bed anytime soon then?"
"Well. The thing is, on the way over here. I was thinking."
"Yeah? About that girl or her tentacles?"
"No. I was thinking about how friggin cool it would be to be a potato."
Bones blinked. Kirk seemed to take this as incentive to continue.
"Cuz I was eating French fries. And then I got to thinking how much better natural, potato-y fries are than replicated ones. And how soft the surface of the potato is, and how slick it is underneath. And like. It's the hardest vegetable that I know of. Not that I know many."
"Really," McCoy deadpanned.
"But. If I were a potato. Then I'd have to be, like, peeled. Because, really, they aren't really any good with the skin. Then they feel crinkly and weird." He collapsed next to Bones on the couch. "I would trust you to peel me. That's not supposed to be creepy or anything, but, I mean, you are a doctor. You do... doctory things. And knives. You can do knives. I think I'd want to be peeled with a knife."
"Hmm."
"Yeah. Because a peeler is like cheating. And it's too unorganized and leaves those little smudgums. Or whatever. And I always cut myself on them. They are evil I tell you. So a knife. Definitely."
"Honestly, Jim, shut the fuck up, please. Its too late." McCoy got up and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Kirk followed him.
"When you cook me you have to promise to boil me first. Before there's frying of any sort."
McCoy managed what sounded vaguely like an expletive from around his toothbrush.
"And make me into fries. And then share me with the base. Doesn't do to waste a big potato like me." Jim smiled. "Whataya say?"
"Damnit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not a cook. I don't give a fuck about potatoes. Go to bed!"
"But Bones!" Kirk always became whiney when he was drunk and didn't have a fight or sex to look forward to.
"Nope! And, I ain't giving you any hypos tomorrow neither."
"Sadist."
"Go to bed."
A week later, McCoy found a potato under his mattress. It had a little sign on it with instructions for how to cook French Fries. In spite of himself, he smiled.
A/N. Yeah. The first chapter of damnit, Jim! More to come. Read and Review! :P