A/N:

These pieces are not necessarily in chronological order. Each piece was written based on a randomly generated word, and this could explain a lot of the randomness of the stories. In this chapter you'll find some Nyota/Spock, Chekov/Sulu, and implied McCoy/Chapel. I don't own Star Trek... unfortunately. I'm not that creative. Reviews are always appreciated. Enjoy!

1. Solitaire

His quarters aboard the Enterprise were quiet, relatively uncluttered, and painted in the standard Starfleet gray. He was currently occupying the bedroom. His legs were crossed in meditation as a few gradually melting candles burned around him. Spock searched his mind for a focal point around which to gain his serenity.

A few small clicks... followed by a few more... and then another few. They came in rapid bursts of three or four. His eyes still shut Spock inclined his head towards the door. The sound stopped momentarily, but as soon as he began to center yet again, it resumed. He knew well what was happening... and he also knew that she didn't intend it to be such a disruption.

"Nyota..." He called calmly from his position in the bedroom. His voice was barely above a whisper and yet she could still hear him clearly. "I may remind you that clicking faster will not make the cards travel faster. You need only to click twice." With that said, Spock returned to his meditation.

In the open living area of the apartment, from her position folded on the couch, Uhura blushed, smiled, and minimized the game she was playing. She really needed to find something to do while Spock meditated besides play solitaire.

2. Cat

"Awww... but Bones... why can't we keep him?" Kirk whined loudly, sounding more like a four year old than a starship captain.

"Because Jim, it's a wild animal, not a damn house pet." McCoy snapped loudly at his friend. "And I don't like animals."

"But I promise I'll take care of him! I promise... feed him... water him... bathe him... all that stuff that living things need. I'm good at that." Those puppy eyes... those pleading puppy eyes were turned in McCoy's direction. Apparently growing cold to this form of charisma, McCoy only snorted...

"Like you did with the fish... and the Orion lizard... and then there was that beast we picked up on Delta Vega... how did those turn out? I'm not gonna take on another damn screaming animal only to have to put it out of its misery three days later. A starship isn't a place for animals."

"But Bones..." Kirk tried again, his best whine. He turned the animal to show is chief medical officer. "He's so cute."

"No. No. No." McCoy didn't want to concede aloud that the damn thing was cute. "No animal Jim.... especially not a damn cat. End of conversation."

"But!" Kirk called after Bones as he turned away. "But I've already given him a name..." For some reason this made McCoy turn around... Kirk's smile was wide and childlike.

"Oh, and what would that be?"

"Spock."

"Oh! In that case my answer is different..." Kirk's eyes widened.

"Yea?"

"Hell no."

3. Open

Nyota stormed out of the bathroom, fury evident across her face. Spock looked up calmly from his book and then raised an eyebrow. She was half naked, he noticed, her pants were missing... Spock opened his mouth to question, but she cut him off.

"You know, you say you're half Vulcan, but I would beg to differ! You have to be entirely human. I mean... look at these pants... they're ruined." She held up a pair of black dress pants with a giant wet stain in the rear. He was having trouble seeing how this connected. There was a moment of silence where she waited for him to apologize.

Sensing his inadequacy, she clarified, "I swear to God, Spock, if you leave the damn toilet seat open one more time I'm going to kick your ass." After throwing her pants at him so they hit him squarely in the face, she turned and retreated to the bathroom yet again.

Spock removed the pants from his face, folded them, and placed them on the couch. He allowed himself a small smile as he returned to the book he was reading. Some habits, however distinctly human, were hard to break.

4. Damn

The distressed teenager crumpled up yet another sheet of precious paper and tossed it haphazardly over his shoulder. The ball rolled around a bit and finally settled into a continually growing pile where its other companions had been tossed in the same manner. A few Russian curses escaped the mouth of the writer as he ran a pale hand through his bright red hair. "I just don't know what to say!" He exclaimed to no one in particular.

"What's up?" A voice sounded from the doorway. Chekov didn't have time to turn around. He was to distressed. When one was trying to pour his feelings on paper and coming up with nothing but blanks... well, that was quite distressing. "Don't know what to say about what?" It didn't click that the voice was familiar.

"I'm trying to find the perfect way to tell Sulu I'm falling for him... and it just won't happen." Chekov sighed. "I just want him to like me... and know that I like him... alot." Tears stung the corner of his eyes but he brushed them away and picked the pen again. The voice had gone silent.

"Well..." The voice was now closer. "What exactly would you say?"

"That I think he's great... and smart... and beautiful... and I would be perfectly content to spend the rest of my days with him... that I..." He tossed the pen away. "Why is it so hard to tell him that I love him."

"Well then maybe you should just say it." The completely unperturbed voice angered Chekov. Here he was spilling his soul and whatever asshole was listening didn't even have the decency to sound sympathetic. The boy rounded on the voice, prepared to give him a through tongue lashing... but he stopped dead in his spin.

In front of him Hikaru Sulu stood with his hands in his pockets, a broad smile across his face. Chekov's eyes widened; a crooked nervous smile appeared on his face... he muttered...

"Damn."

5. Circus

Sometimes McCoy got the feeling that they were all involved in an highly elaborate circus... except they weren't the main act... no, they weren't even in the tent. Sometimes McCoy figured they were just the damn freak show. It was that particular thought McCoy nursed this evening as he consumed his daily whiskey.

Look at Chekov, boy genius. No one should be able to have graduated high school at fourteen. No one should have been able to graduate Starfleet at seventeen. He was almost as awkward and displaced as the boy who had been raised by wolves, drug into face paced society and made into a show for those that could never reach that level of wild intelligence.

Then there was Spock... green blood and lack of emotion... now that was a winning combo. By engaging both the physical and the mental, he was a sure crowd pleaser. Maybe he was the man who could swallow fire and keys... or the one man who could bring medical record of all the strange devices removed from his body including but not limited to a light bulb, a machete, and a live hamster.

And Nyota? Well... she was pretty... but she was smart. A really pretty version of the bearded lady? There weren't many roles for women in the circus freak show. No... she was probably the woman who could tie herself into knots. Very flexible... he liked the idea of her in tights. He would have to ask Spock later in the flexible adjective was appropriate.

With a visible shudder McCoy sat his glass aside. When thoughts turned to asking about Nyota and sex... especially Spock and Nyota and sex... that was when he stopped drinking. Some things were to freaky to think about, even for the circus.

6. Glass

Kirk's eyes opened wide, staring at the small crack in the corner of his helmet. Or at least it was small to seconds ago... it was growing. "Shit. Shit. Shit." He repeated loudly. "I need another helmet."

The crack grew across the glass in front of his vision. It would shatter soon. This wasn't good. He knew this wasn't good. He had seen that early 20th century movie, Total Recall... a man had cracked his helmet on Mars and the pressure difference had killed him in seconds. Eyes bulging out of his head... That wasn't particularly the 'blaze of glory' Kirk had dreamed about dying in. Maybe the pressure wasn't that different. You wouldn't have to wear this damn thing in the first place... Kirk's inner logic reminded him.

"Please!" Kirk pleaded into the microphone. "Someone get me out of here before this thing goes!" The sickening sound of broken glass. Wasn't this shit supposed to be unbreakable? He felt the pressure build in the back of his eyes... He tried to stagger a plea through a swollen tongue. It was to late.

In a tangle of sheets, Kirk sat bolt upright. He was in his quarters. His body was covered in a thin layer of sweat. His heart raced... It took him moments to assure himself this wasn't some sick version of heaven or really uneventful hell. He realized he was breathing. His eyes felt normal. He realized something else also... something he should have realized after the Narada.

James Kirk realized he too was mortal.

7. Chocolate

"Well..." Montgomery Scott didn't dare look James Kirk in the eyes. "I must admit I dinna really know that it would put 'im in this state." But he didn't really think that Kirk was buying it. The entire bridge was deadly quiet as a majority of them stared at Scotty. From behind the crew a large thunderous snore. Kirk reminded himself that right now he needed to be the captain and not laugh... but it was hard.

Everyone's attention turned to Spock who was currently splayed prone in his command chair. It was uncommon to see him unraveled, but for the sake of his dignity they all tried to avert their eyes and not take pictures for later blackmail. Kirk felt it prudent to return to his lecture..."Common knowledge! Mr. Scott..." Another snore. Kirk bit his cheek. Stay professional, he reminded himself again. "Everyone on crew knows to keep Spock away from chocolate."

Another loud snore cut across the speech. Spock stirred and set intently awake. His hands were pressed to his temple, and he seemed to be a very vicious shade of green. "It would be wise for me to find a restroom..." Spock's departure was followed by silence and then a hitch of laughter from the communications center. Nyota was laughing... and soon everyone else had joined in. Kirk tried. He tried for Spock's sake. He tried not to laugh, but the action was futile.

"Now I'm gonna be walking into a Klingon dignitary dinner with a first officer who has a horrible hangover..." Kirk gasped between bellows of laughter. "That will be terribly enjoyable."

8. Hockey

"God... it's brutal." Sulu said with an intake of breath as he watched two men slam against each other on the glass in front of the bleachers. One of them, he didn't know which, left a trail of blood as he skated off. They were on a two day shore leave and Sulu had made the mistake of saying he had never seen a live action hockey game. Chekov could have nearly lost his balance as far as his jaw dropped.

"We are going to see one then... take a shuttle to Wancouwer or something." Now Sulu was unsure of why he had agreed. He was all for hand to hand combat... but fencing was civilized. This... this was just pure brutality as men chased after a small hard disk. Chekov, on the other hand, was enjoying himself immensely. It figured that his gentle soul would enjoy a good public showing of brutality.

Why had he agreed to come? Sulu questioned himself as he tried to focus on anything but the violence. Oh yea... that's right. He loved the way Pavel had said Vancouver. It had made him giddy, and for the same self serving purpose he had let Pavel order the tickets - a thirty minute ordeal during which he said Vancouver four more times. Each time a giant smile appeared on Sulu's face. He laughed out loud.

"You are enjoying the game then?" Chekov asked, his bright blue eye's shining with glee. He was about to answer but the boy's attention had turned back to the game. He was still wearing that grin.

Sulu reasoned that he could learn to love hockey... because hockey made Chekov happy.

9. Men

It was an unusually quiet day aboard the Enterprise. Spock and Kirk were engaged in a particularly heated game of tri-level chess, encouraged by McCoy's constant taunts to each of them. Nyota Uhura had abandoned the group for a new issue of XenoToday and a corner of the recreation room that was unoccupied. Christine Chapel joined her moments later and opened her own magazine.

"They actually make guides for dating humanoid species?" Christine asked after a while. Uhura nodded and then smiled.

"It's a lot more tricky than it sounds." She laughed. "And it sounds pretty damn tricky." She returned to reading. There were moments of semi-silence in which McCoy whispered quite loudly that Kirk shouldn't take that kind of intellectual beat down from his first officer. He needed, apparently, to pull some rank on Spock's ass.

"Nyota, Has Spock ever done anything romantic?"

"No." It was a quick and concise. There was no debating that Spock was never going to be romantic.

"Doesn't that kind of piss you off? Do you ever work yourself up because you want him to do something and then he completely falls through on the romantic side?"

"No." Again, a concise answer. Christine sighed. "Look, I don't expect anything... and then I'm not disappointed." She added from behind her magazine... "Let me guess, McCoy screwed something up?"

"Yep. I don't even think he knows.." The other woman admitted. Smiling to herself, Nyota put down her magazine. She winked at Christine... They could fix that.

"Well, take my advice Christine." She said loudly. "You should find yourself a humanoid... they might not be as romantic but they are certainly worth it in other aspects. Aspects in which, apparently, he is lacking..."

"Perhaps you're right, Uhura..." Christine played along. "There's that nice looking Andronian that works in Engineering, right? He would never forget my birthday."

10. Young

Kirk had never thought about his other duties as captain of the Enterprise until now. Until that point, it meant commandeering the flagship and going where no one had ever gone before, exploration and adventure. Now Kirk realized it meant breaking certain pieces of horrible news to his friends. It meant breaking hearts.

Uhura had received the transmission from Starfleet about an hour ago. It had taken Kirk forty five minutes to plan out how he was going to say everything, how he was going to keep his emotions in check. It only took two minutes for those plans to come crashing down around him as the young Russian buckled to his knees on the floor.

He had never been particularly parental, but now as Chekov clung to his shirt and cried Kirk awkwardly ran a hand on his back and muttered that it would be okay when he knew this this was a lie. It wouldn't be okay for a long time. The raw emotion from the boy made him cringe and curse. God was unpleasant and unfair. Chekov had done nothing wrong, he reminded the deity. He was only seventeen damn it! Almost to young to serve on a starship... and definitely to damn young to lose his mother.

A/N:

There's a lot of humor in this chapter, and I found that my other chapters really don't contain that much. My particular favorite for this chapter had to be number 2... something about that exchange between McCoy and Kirk seems to jump off of the paper. I didn't particularly like number 9... writing it took a while because I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted to outcome to be. I'm still not sure what the outcome was. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading these. I enjoyed writing them. Review and stay on the lookout for more!