To a dear Anon, in vague response to your prompt on the LiveJournal St-Xi-Kink Meme. (THAT'S RIGHT! I'VE DISCOVERED LJ.)

Phronemophobia

Jim Kirk, two years into the Academy, has done many, many things. Very well, he's told. Cadet Uhura is not one of them. This annoys Jim, he's a purist. So two years and three months into the Academy, shortly after seeing Uhura sneaking out of the chem building at six in the morning, followed by a tall dark stranger, Jim has a last ditch attempt at perfecting his record.

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He sees her across the bar, halfway down her fifth shot of the night. Jack, straight up, he remembers- Bones would approve.

Kirk knows he's drunk too much. He knows he'll get a slap (or worse. Uhura's acing hand-to-hand combat). He knows he can't win.

But then a little voice in his head (who sounds weirdly like that Russian kid from his navigation class) reminds him that he doesn't believe in no-win scenarios.

So James T. Kirk- 'the T stands for awesome'- continues stumbling towards the only woman ever to say no to him.

"UHURA!"

She either doesn't hear him, or she pretends not to.

"UHUUUUUURA!"

Jim knows she has to answer this time. People are staring.

"Kirk, aren't the words 'not in a million years' clear enough for you?"

"I wouldn't mind a re-run. Anyway, Uhura, you know, I was thinking-"

"You were thinking?"

"...I'm hurt. Truly hurt. Anyway, I happen to have a particularly brilliant idea!"

She just turns back to her bottle. Jim decides to switch to Klingon. He's sure heard a rumour she gets off of Klingon poetry. Or was it Orion?

"See, I was thinking... considering as Bones isn't here to stop me asking- oh shit, he's worked his way out of Cupcake's headlock, I'll have to ask quickly... ever had a threesome?"

"Yes."

"Because me and Bones, we're totally up for it. Well, I'm sure I could convince him- wait, WHAT?"

"Yes, I have had a threesome. With two other girls. Gaila was one of them. There may have been handcuffs involved. So, naturally, I have no need of your services- you can leave me alone now."

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When McCoy reaches the bar and sees his friend speechless (sweet Jesus, how did that happen?) he's convinced Nyota's the most wonderful person he's ever met. He wants to ask how she did it, but the guys from security are approaching right left and centre, and Jim's started dribbling on his shirt.

He decides he could live without the knowledge of how Nyota rendered Jim slack-jawed and speechless. What Bones really wants to know why all his evenings seem to end with a black eye and some form of Jim's bodily fluid on his clothes.

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Pointless drabble is pointless. Sozzles. Review?