Dangit Kirk

Chapter 1 – Dammit, Kirk!

A/N 04/13/2010 – Moving this over from the BWR.

A/N 05/19/2009 – Someone mentioned Tirk and well... this popped into my head. I imagine this takes place during Season 1. (to reassure you, it's really not Tirk)

One lazy hazy morning Kirk sat at the counter of Luke's Diner, contemplating the sandwich in front of him. Luke had very kindly cut it into stars and Kirk was trying to consume it in a way that would keep it evenly balanced while maximizing his taste to condiment-location ratio. As Luke returned to the counter and began to wipe it down, a thought occurred to Kirk.

"You know Luke, with my past resume of work experience; I have developed skills in a plethora of professions."

"That's great Kirk..." Luke replied, trying to ignore Kirk in hopes that he could lose his thoughts while cleaning his diner during the afternoon lull.

Of course Kirk did not catch on. "I've been assisting Taylor with his stress for over a year now--"

"Kirk if you're trying to—"

"Now, Luke, you are a very tense man."

"Kirk! Shut up," Luke responded tersely, as he continued to methodically wipe the immaculately clean counter.

"Luke I know it's hard, you're a single man and you don't have a lot to—"

"Kirk, please stop talking."

"I can help you with that; my skills cover a wide range of—"

"Kirk, you're starting to creep me out."

"Luke, just hear me out, I promise that you won't regret it."

Luke sighed and dropped the rag below the counter, "If I listen to you, will you shut up?"

"If that is what you wish."

Sighing again, Luke leaned against the back counter, "Okay, what is it? You're a masseuse now or something?"

"Not exactly, maybe we should go somewhere more private."

"Gahh, Kirk," Luke responded gesturing to the empty expanse of the diner. "There's no one else here!"

"Alright, it's your call. So, as I was saying, after taking a class at Hartford Community College I've become certified in many relaxation techniques. Now, Taylor prefers a more traditional method that doesn't involve any implements; a natural approach one might say."

Luke's frustration level was just about to boil over as he crossed his arms across his chest, "Kirk is this going anywhere..."

"Yes, yes, now, I am quite skilled with my hands—"

Afraid that this was going where he thought it was going, Luke stated, "You said you weren't a masseuse..."

Kirk placed the last corner of the sandwich star on his plate and looked Luke in the eye, "That is correct, that is not what my training is in."

"What the hell are you getting at Kirk..."

"You could say I do a pretty good hand... job. If you get my drift, and I'd be willing to help you out, I can even offer costume choices. For instance I have this dark brown wig and blue contacts if you prefer I-"

"Oh my God, Kirk, SO HELP ME, get the hell out of my diner!!" Luke shouted as he turned a bright shade of crimson.

Kirk stood and ran towards the door, he took a final breath, heart pounding, he turned and looked at Luke, "You seem tense, the first session could be pro-bon—"

"KIRK GET THE HELL OUT NOW!" Luke screamed at the top of his lounges as he gestured violently towards the door. A puff of smoke could be seen in Kirk's wake.