Therapy
I wrote this with DeForest Kelly in mind. I havent seen ST 2009 so I dont know if young McCoy gets to insult Spock like he used to do in TOS, but hey, we dont know what happens once the movie's over, right?
I must say, from the little I've seen of the film on Youtube, the cast is awesome!
Nurse Chapel picked a card from Dr. McCoys desk and looked at it.
"Pointers, Doctor?"
McCoy took the card from her.
"Dont start, Christine."
"I just cant believe you're resorting to Twentieth Century methods, Doctor. Group Therapy sounds so... so bogus. A few days in a solitary cell would work faster."
"We're not dealing with crimes here, Christine; 'Behavioral Problems' it's what Stafleet calls them, and they expect me to put an end to them."
"But shouldn't Captain Kirk be in charge? It's a disciplinary problem, after all."
McCoy sighed. "Unfortunately, the Captain is one of the men with a problem here."
"But are you sure this is the best way to deal with these men, Doctor? This method hasn't been used in centuries -"
"I needed a method that wouldn't involve punitive measures, Christine. Group Therapy, Role Play and plain common sense seemed good enough to me."
"And if all that fails, there's always electroshock," Christine said ironically, before turning away.
------
McCoy was satisfied with phase one of the session. He had timed his entrance perfectly. Too early, and the men would have felt he was rushing them; too late, and the men would have been bored.
He'd waited only long enough to make them squirm.
They certainly seemed relieved to see him come in. There were five of them, sitting in a semi-circle: the Captain himself; First Officer Spock; Lieutenants Trill and Quatto, and Ensign Vásquez -five men that, according to Starfleet Command, needed a stern 'wake-up' call.
"Good evening, Gentlemen," McCoy said briskly.
"Good evening, Dr. McCoy." And damn if they didn't almost sound like little schoolchildren.
McCoy smiled; they were looking at him with a mix of relief and apprehension. He was there, so the wait was over; on the other hand, he was there, so there was no putting off whatever it was that was about to happen.
Only Spock seemed unperturbed by the whole thing.
"Gentlemen," McCoy said, "Welcome to our first Group Therapy session. I'd like to start by assuring you that no punitive charges will be brought to you, no matter what it's said here -"
"Really?" Quatto asked hopefully.
"Really," McCoy said benevolently. He covertly glanced at the card hidden in the palm of his hand, then looked up. "We are here to find solutions to your problems, so honesty is of the essence." He paused, letting those words sink in. "Now," he added. "You shall begin by introducing yourselves."
"Oh, we already know each other," Vásquez said.
"Yes, but it's a requirement of the therapy," McCoy said. "You are to stand up, state your name and the problem that we're here to discuss. And remember: rank doesn't count in this room, so you are not to mention it. Is that understood?" he glanced around. "Very well. Jim, let's begin with you."
"Why me? You said rank wouldn't count."
"You're the first to my right, Jim," McCoy said patiently. "You get to speak first."
"All right," Jim said resignedly. "My name's -"
"Uh, Jim, you've got to rise so everybody sees you."
"They can see me now!"
McCoy gave him a look. "Humor me."
"Fine." Jim rose, "My name is James T. Kirk, and I'm… I'm a…"
"Say it, Jim."
"I'm a…" Jim studiously stared ahead as he finally said, "I'm a Sexaholic."
"Very good, Jim."
Spock frowned.
"I thought it was bad."
"It is bad," Bones said patiently, "But it's good that Jim has admitted it. Your turn, Mr. Spock."
Spock looked up.
"My turn, Doctor?"
"Your turn to get up and speak, Mr. Spock."
"There is nothing for me to say, Doctor."
"Yes, there is, Spock. Everybody has something to say in this meeting."
"I have yet to understand what the purpose of this meeting is."
"Well, Spock, if you wait a little while then maybe it'll become clear to you. Just let me remind you that you're all here voluntarily, and -"
"Not I," Spock replied, "I received a summons from your office -"
"Exactly. A summons from me, the Doctor in Chief of the -"
"You're pulling rank, Bones." Jim muttered under his breath.
"- ship," McCoy finished. "It means you've got to comply with anything I ask you to do. State your name, please."
"Very well." He rose. "My name is Spock."
The five men looked expectantly at him.
Spock looked back at each one of them in turn.
"Go on, Spock," McCoy hissed.
"With what, Doctor?"
"Tell us why you're here," McCoy said, his patience starting to run thin.
"You required my presence, Doctor."
"Spock, stop being so hard-headed and just tell us what your problem is!"
"My problem?"
"It was stated in the summons," McCoy said through clenched teeth. "Remember?"
"Indeed. But I fail to understand how meeting in a small room will be of any help to you."
McCoy closed his eyes.
"Spock, if you please? Just tell us why you were summoned to this meeting."
"Oh. Very well. My name is Spock, and Doctor McCoy believes I have a rage problem." He sat down.
"Spock, that wasn't exactly right; you should have said, 'I am Spock, and I have a rage problem."
"But I do not have a rage problem, Doctor."
"Spock? Have you forgotten the little scene you pulled on the bridge a month ago?"
"I do not pull little scenes, Doctor."
"Spock, you kicked the Captain's ass."
"Whoa, whoa," Jim said, "Spock didn't kick my ass!"
"The Captain is right, Doctor;" Spock said calmly, "My feet never came in contact with his gluteal muscles."
"You mauled him, Spock," McCoy said, ignoring the interruption. "It was under duress, I admit, but to the Starfleet Command, your reaction was excessive. The Command needs some reassurance that this won't be happening again."
"This won't be happening again," Spock nodded dutifully.
"Saying it doesn't count. You've got to get therapy. Being here and admitting out loud that you have a problem is the first step towards recovery. Go ahead."
"Go ahead with what?"
"Say it, Spock," Bones said, his patience stretching as far as it could go. "You have a problem with rage –just say it."
"But I cannot say something that I do not acknowledge as true."
"Uh, Spock?" Jim muttered. "The sooner you admit it, the sooner we'll all be leaving, so..." he motioned him to continue.
"Oh. Very well. My name is Spock, and I have a rage problem." He sat down.
"Good," McCoy said. "Next, please -"
"But it isn't true," Spock muttered.
McCoy glared.
"Mr. Spock, if you please? I'll give you a chance to explain, later."
"Thank you, Doctor."
McCoy looked at the Andorian sitting next to Spock. His naturally blue skin was blotchy with yellowish stains. He dutifully rose.
"My name is Trill, and I am addicted to the tanning machine."
"Very good," McCoy said. "Next."
Meanwhile, Jim glanced sideways at Spock.
"Just for the record," he muttered under his breath, "You didn't maul me."
Spock didn't reply.
"And you didn't kick my ass."
Spock stared ahead, imperturbably.
"You didn't even leave bruises," Jim said snidely, "If that was your best shot, then I -"
"Jim, for God's sake," McCoy burst out, "Stop taunting him!"
"Do not worry, Doctor," Spock said calmly. "Nothing he says will induce me to kick his ass."
"Hey!" Jim protested.
McCoy took a deep breath, counted to five, and then tried to smile benevolently again. He failed miserably, but he somehow managed to continue the meeting.
"Well," he said, "Now that we have introduced ourselves -"
"Doctor, if you please," Spock said, "You have not introduced yourself yet."
"But I'm the Doctor -"
"You also said we were not to mention rank."
"He's right, Bones," Jim said.
"And why are you helping him?" McCoy glared.
"Because he's right, you know; you haven't introduced yourself."
McCoy opened his mouth to utter a well-chosen retort, but thought better of it. With great effort on his part, he rose from his seat.
"All right, Spock, I'm gonna humor you. I am Leonard McCoy. Are you happy?"
Spock seemed surprised by the question.
"Happy, Doctor?" Spock paused to consider. "Only mildly contented, I believe. 'Happy' implies a degree of gratification that could hardly be derived from a statement that has no personal connotation to me, or -"
"ALL RIGHT, THAT'S IT!" McCoy exploded, "I've heard enough from you, you… GREEN-BLOODED, POINTY-EARED -"
McCoy's next words never got to be said because he caught himself just in time, but it was obvious that he'd already said too much. The men's jaws had practically dropped at his outburst, (except Spock's, of course); and they were all staring at him -specifically, at the vein throbbing in his forehead. 'Little Angry Lenny', his ex-wife used to call it, and he knew by experience that it wasn't a pretty sight.
It was fortunate that they couldn't see the rush of adrenaline suffusing his body, or hear the wild beating of his heart... But they knew, all the same.
They knew.
Jim and Spock had deliberately baited him, and he didn't know what surprised him more: that he'd fallen for it, or that these two had managed to work together after being at odds for so long.
McCoy gulped.
"All right," he muttered in defeat. "All right, I get it." He rose from his chair, and said, "My name is Leonard McCoy and I have a problem with rage."
He sat down with some difficulty.
"You don't have a problem," Jim said casually. "You have a temper. There's nothing wrong with that."
"There isn't?" McCoy asked in surprise.
"Of course not. What do you think, Spock?"
Spock paused for a moment.
"Considering the pressure we put him under, I believe Dr. McCoy's reaction was -"
"- logical," Bones said, rolling his eyes.
"It was most certainly not logical, Doctor. But it was… what we expected it to be."
McCoy wiped the sweat off his forehead with the little card in his hand. "So." He tentatively looked around. "What do I do now? Starfleet expects me to send them a report."
"Just tell them we're doing fine," Jim said. "We don't want anyone to thwart our little, hum, idiosyncrasies, Doc. Life would be too dull without them."
The End