The Lucky Penny, a star trek: 2009 fanfic

The Captain

There was no way that coin collecting was nerdier than botany or fencing. Still, it was not something one admitted to doing. Especially when one was The Captain. See, The Captain has to be cool. (That's why the article is capitalized. Coolness automatically does that when it comes into contact an article.) Coin collecting was his secret hobby and his greatest shame. So, when he's walking out of his quarters carrying his quarters and other old American money and a gaggle of ensign runs right into him and some of his collection falls to the ground, he runs to the Bridge and hopes the coins are still outside his door when he gets back.

The Shiny Thing

There are certain characteristics needed for one to become an engineer. A short attention span and an affinity for shiny things is two of them, so when Scotty sees a shiny copper coin on the floor he has to pick it up.

"Well, hello, Mr. Lincoln. 'Hello, Mr. Scott. How are you doing today?' I'm doin' quite well, thank you. How would you like to go for a ride in my pocket? 'I'd like that very much.'"

And so Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Scott spend the day together.

The Numbers That Didn't Add Up

One. Two. Three.

"Say, how many o' my men were in the landin' party yesterday?"

"Three."

He counts again.

One. Two. Three.

"Who was it again?"

"Ricky, Manuel, and Torres."

Ricky. One. Manuel. Two. Torres. Three.

"Are you sure no one else went done and got... y'know?"

"No. It was just them three."

"That's bloody fantastic."

The Discovery

"'Why, hello there, Mr. Fuzzybottom. I'm Mr. Lincoln.' 'Hello, Mr. Lincoln. I never met any dignitaries before. How do you do?' 'I do quite well ever since I got away from that crazy wife of mine!' 'Oh, Mr. Lincoln! You're a saucy fellow! I think I quite--'"

"Doctor, your premise is false. If you would look--"

"You can shove my premise in your pointy ear! I told you, there ain't no way to solve it. We might as well give up now."

"There is always a way. We have simply not discovered it yet."

"We've been workin' on this damn project for six months. If it was out there we would have found it by now."

"Perhaps you have already found the solution and are simply trying to persuade me to abandon the project so you can publish the results on your own."

"Oh, screw you, Spock! There's no way in hell I'd put my name on something about goddamn Tribbles if Starfleet wasn't so adamant about--"

"Gentlemen! That is quite enough. You cannae just walk into a man's engine room, interrupting a conversation between his penny," he brandishes Mr. Lincoln, "and his fuzzy, round thing!" He holds up Mr. Fuzzybottom.

Spock and McCoy just stare.

"You are in possession of one Tribble?"

"No, it's a penny. Old Earth money."

"Other hand, Scotty."

"Oh, Mr. Fuzzybottom. Aye. He's a pet. Makes this sort of purring noise like a cat. Looks like something off a keychain if you ask me."

"You only have one Tribble."

"Aye."

"How, if I may ask, is that possible?"

"Well, I only found one."

"Found it where?"

"On Delta Vega. Last lad there left it. Said not to feed it. Said it would be trouble. It's a rife injustice sending people off to ice planets all alone. They all end up mad as Bedlam eventually."

"I hadn't noticed," McCoy deadpans.

"Did the prior owner surgically or chemically alter the Tribble in any way?"

"No. He was an engineer. What'd he know about Tribble surgery?"

"What do you feed it? Any special food?"

"No. I just give it protein nibs. That's all we had there. He seems to like them. He's the only one who does. The things are just vitamins and appetite suppressants. No real flavor. Now, a sandwich--"

"Jesus fucking Christ!"

"Doctor, am I to believe you have come to the same conclusion as I about the effects of neo-ethylene on Tribble reproduction?"

"Scotty, do you know what you've discovered?"

"I cannae say I do!"

"You-- Six months! And now we have to have him as the main author! I have never hated someone as much as I hate you right now, Scotty!"

McCoy storms out and Spock turns to him with this angry Vulcan face and he swears Spock's fingers twitch like they was itching to strangle someone. "Mr. Scott, you are... a genius." And Spock storms out as much as any Vulcan can storm out.

"Well, how do you like that, Mr. Fuzzybottom? Looks like you're going to be in all the big science journals, yes you are."

The Sandwich

"Meester Scott, do you vant the other half of my reuben? I cannot eat it all."

"Sure. Thanks, laddie."

The Prettiest Girl at the Party

He likes these aliens. They're exciting.

He just has to remember to never ask them for a demonstration of their technology again.

Here they are—a Starfleet landing party!--sitting in some waiting room, biding their time until the head engineer comes back from lunch so they can be switched back to their original sexes. And, of course, it's one of those artsy, clinical waiting rooms with mirrors all around so they're forced into looking at themselves.

No matter because everyone's eyes are glued to Lt. Uhura's giant bulge.

"Fascinating," Mr. Spock says.

"I want to look away but I can't. It's like an eclipse. A giant eclipse of balls." Sulu shudders.

"I would normally be offended by the ogling but I can't stop staring at Scotty's boobs!" Uhura giggles.

"What?" He looks down. "Holy hell." He pulls the top of his shirt away from his body and just stares at the newly acquired bits of anatomy.

"Oh my god. Scotty, you're fucking stacked!" Jim yells.

"Fascinating. Mr. Scott appears to be a D cup."

"I want to look away but it's like a train crash. A giant train crash of boobs."

"Could you just jump up and down for a minute? But wait 'til Chekov gets back from the bathroom. He won't want to miss this."

"He's been gone for a hella long time. What the hell is he doing in there?"

"Well," Uhura says. "What would you be doing if you were eighteen and just discovered you could have multiple orgasms?" A collective shudder. "You know, I thought he would be prettier. He has a nice facial structure usually but he's kind of plain now."

"Well, who is pretty then?" Kirk asks.

"You all are."

"Don't cop out. Who's the prettiest?"

"I may have all of two hour's experience as a man but I know enough to not want to answer that."

"C'mon," Sulu whines. "We won't get mad."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Spock?"

"I promise."

"Scotty?"

"Hmmm?" He finally looks up.

"Promise not to get mad?"

He has no idea what she's talking about having been transfixed by his ample nacelles for the past few minutes but he promises anyway.

"I have to go with Scotty. He's the prettiest."

"What? No!"

"Is it the tits? Because there's a lot more to being pretty than tits! There's ass too!"

"He has a very sporty body. And his hair is voluminous."

"Who's second prettiest?"

"Uh... Sulu."

"Yes! In yo' face... captain."

"Then Spock."

"What? His boobs are square!"

Chekov comes back from the bathroom, takes one looks at Scotty fondling his tachyons, and turns right around for more time alone with his warp core.

The Biggest

The head engineer comes back from her siesta a half hour later and it takes them fifteen minutes to get Chekov out of the bathroom but they're finally ready to be turned back. The head engineer has Scotty, Chekov, Kirk, and Sulu stand in a circle facing inward. She says that the reversal process is much more complicated and she'd feel much more comfortable doing Uhura and Spock separately. She turns a knob and it's all tingly like a transporter and then it goes cold. Scotty's got no idea something went wrong until he hears Uhura's laugh and Spock's requisite "fascinating."

The machine worked... but it had an unfortunate hiccup that left them starkers. His first instinct is to cover his yarbles but then again he really doesn't want Mr. Spock studying the tattoo on his arse. His hands fly to cover his butt leaving his junk visible to Chekov, Kirk, and Sulu. They look and he can't blame them because he would do the same thing if their hands weren't clutched tightly over their groins.

"Oh, come on!" Sulu shouts.

"How is that fair?" Kirk asks. "You can't have the biggest tits and the biggest-- I'm The Captain!"

Chekov's eyes are closed tightly and he mutters, "Three-point-one-four-one-five-nine-two-" and so forth.

That lad is going to have so many intimacy issues later in life.

The Girl

Thank god for small miracles. The head engineer replicates them some clothes so they don't have to beam back to the Enterprise naked. Unfortunately, she also fixes the machine so that Uhura and Spock don't lose their uniforms but you can't win 'em all. They beam back up, Chekov runs out of the transporter room, and Kirk stomps out muttering, "I'm The Captain. iI'm The Captain./i"

Uhura's fingers wrap around his wrist. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight. In my quarters."

He glances over at Spock, sure he's about to storm over and choke him for looking at his lady, but Sulu's whispering something in his ear and Spock's cheeks are turning a little green and Sulu licks the top of Spock's pointy ear and, "Why the hell is everyone hooking up in my transporter room except for me?"

"Well," Uhura leans in. "That can be remedied easily. Dinner's at eight." And she walks and good god he could watch her do that for hours.

He reaches into his left pants pocket and realizes that Mr. Lincoln was blinked out of existence planet side. Mr. Fuzzybottom will be inconsolable. "Oh Captain! my captain! our fearful trip is done-- Sulu, if you break that console with Mr. Spock's arse I swear to every deity in the universe that I will kill you!"