Of Women and Torn Shirts
"Agony! Beyond power of speech! When the one thing you want! Is the only thing out of your reach!"
Spock watched the display on the terminal, fascinated at the display of behaviour before him. He knew humans were an emotional species. Their feelings did not run as deeply as vulcans, but they were far less apt at hiding them. James Tiberius Kirk, his superior, captain, and friend, was no exception to the rule.
"Agony! Far more painful than yours! When you know she would go with you! If there only were doors!"
Was there a metaphor here? Spock didn't know. Human languages were so full of metaphors, similes, and every other kind of idiosyncrasy, that even the universal translator couldn't keep up with them all. But that wasn't why he was watching.
"Holy shit, he's still doing it?"
Nor was Doctor Leonard McCoy. He glanced at the man, and deduced from his facial expression, that Doctor McCoy was experiencing a mixture of amusement, and bewilderment. Similar to Spock himself, but without the discipline to control it.
"Doctor McCoy," Spock said. "I believe this is what you call a…um, episode."
"Episode?" McCoy asked. "Hardly. This is what I call…um…" He sighed. "Actually, I don't have a name for it."
Spock said nothing. He just continued to watch as James T. Kirk sung his grief on the surface of Disney VI – a planet covered entirely in woods, with a biome similar to 16th century Europe on Earth. Far chillier than what he had become used to on Vulcan, and likely his friend in Iowa. Not that this was stopping Kirk from tearing off his shirt, and exposing his chest for the world to see. Or at least for everyone onboard the USS Enterprise as it hung in orbit, waiting for its captain to say "beam me up Scotty."
"The shirt," McCoy sighed. "It's always the shirt."
"I do not understand."
"Come on Spock, you know, the shirt," McCoy said. "Kirk can't beam down to any planet without getting his shirt torn."
That was true, Spock admitted, at least if one applied the mean to the standard of "always." Because James T. Kirk did not always tear his shirt off. But with everything from gorn, to orion slave girls, to that incident on New Vulcan that Spock would prefer to forget, he had to admit, the doctor did have a point.
"Agony!" Kirk sung. "Oh the torture they teach! What's as intriguing, or half so fatiguing, as what's out of reach?"
"Out of reach," Spock mused. "Could be possibly be referring to Doctor Carol Marcus?"
McCoy snorted.
"Do you possess a cold, Doctor?"
"Cold?" McCoy asked. "A…no, I don't have a cold you bloody hobgoblin. It…well, of course it's Doctor Marcus! Why else would Kirk be singing if he were in a bloody musical?"
"A musical," Spock said. "I do believe that musicals usually have songs that consist of a few minutes rather than an hour."
McCoy patted him on the shoulder. "True love Spock. Not your thing of course, but down here, with our monkey brains and monkey hearts…well, you'll get used to it."
Spock ignored the insinuation, and looked at the facts.
Fact – nine months ago, Doctor Carol Marcus had become impregnated by James Tiberius Kirk as a result of overconsumption of saurian brandy, and standard coupling that stemmed from the human reproductive system. Fact – in that nine month period, Doctor Carol Marcus had become increasingly irritable that he had assumed was perfectly normal for a female of the human species carrying offspring. Fact – offspring had been delivered on Stardate 2261.1207, given the name of Marcus, David. Fact – both Marcuses had left the Enterprise on Stardate 2261.1209. A move that Spock considered highly illogical, as human societal norms indicated strong preference for offspring to be in the company of their biological parents, in lieu of those parents still being active.
"Agony!" Kirk yelled. "Misery, woe! Dark skies are above! Yet strife is below!"
Could it be true love, Spock wondered? Or did Kirk what an excuse to tear off his shirt and perform a dance number? An illogical train of thought, but right now, his friend was being anything but logical.
"Very unproductive," Spock murmured.
"What?"
"If he is so bereft, then surely he could follow Doctor Marcus to Starbase-"
"No," McCoy said. He smiled. "Come on Spock, you know how these things work. You lose the love of your life, you've got to wait awhile. Let the love return. Let-"
"Odd comments, doctor, considering that your reunion with Nancy Crater on M-one-thirteen held disastrous results, including-"
McCoy stormed off. Muttering something about not getting it, green blood, and hobgoblins. Raising an eyebrow, Spock returned his gaze to the monitor.
"Agony! Tragedy!"
And keeping that eyebrow raised, continued to watch.
A/N
So, I watched Into the Woods recently. And other thoughts aside, I've gotta agree with a comment Linkara made - that God damn can Chris Pine ham it up. All we need now is a moonrise over Rigel VII and we're all set for some Shatnarian acting. 0_0