A little souvenir
Summary: Jim Kirk goes down to Umbralia Nine for a visit and brings back an, er, souvenir.
Jim Kirk had never known pain like this.
Those pummelings he'd got from Starfleet Security? Those felt like caresses in comparison. Even Spock's fists hadn't done that much damage.
But then, he hadn't been in a brawl this time.
He'd been taking a rest. He'd gone to Umbralia Nine, the well-known recreational planet. Intent on enjoying the local attractions, he'd beamed down with the rest of the crew, intent on enjoying the local attractions. Two days later, they were all back on the ship, well-rested and willing to get on with their mission. That is, all but Jim himself. The Captain had brought back an unsuspected souvenir, one so insidious that it escaped detection from the Ship's medical devices.
In short, Jim Kirk had caught a disease.
Huddled under the sheets, Jim sought relief by turning on one side and then on the other; try as he might, however, he couldn't get relief for his poor, diseased crotch. Finally, he gave up; drenched in sweat, he simply bit into the pillow and waited for the worst to happen. It hurt. It hurt, oh, God, how it hurt...
...But not as much as hearing Leonard McCoy, the ship's Doctor, lecture him about restraint.
"Damn it, Jim!" the doctor was saying as he paced all over the room, "How many times have we talked about this?"
"Oh, leave me alone -"
"How many times have I told you? 'Use protection, Jim'; 'think with the head on top on your shoulders for once, Jim'. I mean, this was Umbralia 9, the city that's being compared to Marseille just before the Great Plague hit!"
"Oh, just shut up," Jim retorted. He looked at Bones, "You know, now would be a good time to give me one of those painkillers you're so happy to use!"
"I told you," McCoy said patiently, "I can't give you anything till I know exactly what I'm dealing with."
"You know exactly what we're dealing with! You even told me the tongue-twisting name of this damn disease!"
"Jim, I can't simply give you the medication. I need to know the right dosage; tests ought to be run -"
"So run them!"
"Spock is doing that for me."
Jim did a double take.
"Spock? You told Spock?
"Would you rather have Nurse Chapel know?" McCoy retorted. "The last thing you need is anyone -anyone-finding out that the ship's Captain contracted a ve -"
"All right, all right!"
"Spock will do this impassively and discreetly, Jim. You can count on that."
"Yeah, but... Damn it, I wish you didn't tell him. He's so smug about the fact that he's in a monogamous relationship -"
"Spock is smug about everything," McCoy said dryly, "Don't take it personally."
"I guess," Jim muttered. He rested for a moment, then he muttered. "I just don't understand."
"Understand what, Jim?"
"What does she see in him?"
"You mean, Uhura?"
"Who else?" Morosely, he added, "Vulcans aren't supposed to have feelings -everybody knows that. Why is she..." he didn't finish. He frowned. "Do you think they're really having sex?"
"Jim, for the love of God, can't you stop thinking of sex even for a minute?
"How can I when this thing feels like it's gonna burst?" Jim lifted the covers, took a glance at his genitals, then, appaled at what he saw, let the covers fall again. He took a deep breath and then, in a more resigned tone, he said, "I'm finished, Bones."
"You're not finished," Bones said indulgently, "It's not like it's gonna fall off -even if it probably feels like it is."
"You think so?" Jim asked hopefully.
"Sure," McCoy said, "It'll have to be, er, quarantined, for a month or so, but -"
"Oh, God," Jim groaned. He buried his face on the pillow. "That'll be worse than death."
The door opened then and First Officer Spock, calm as ever, entered the room. He had a glass vial in his hand.
"I have finished the tests, Doctor. The computer approves the course of treatment you suggested."
"Thanks, Spock."
Jim raised his head.
"Wait a minute. Bones, how can you know that Spock read the results correctly?"
"Captain, I assure you; I followed Doctor McCoy's instructions to the letter." He handed the vial to McCoy. "The medication will have the desired effect on his molecular structure, Doctor."
Bones set out to unseal the vial.
"Sit, Jim."
Jim sat up. He was lifting the covers but stopped when he realized Spock was still there, attentively watching the proceedings. 'Oh, no', Jim thought indignantly. No way was he going to uncover his private parts while Spock was standing there. He'd heard enough about Vulcans' massive pysical proportions for years to know he'd be at a disadvantage there.
A 'slight' disandvantage, he pointed out to himself; but still...
He glared at Spock. "Do you mind?"
Spock raised an eyebrow.
"Do I mind what, Captain?"
"Go away!"
McCoy, who knew exactly what Jim was worried about, intervened.
"Relax, Jim," he said, "I'm not going to apply this on the injured area. You'll have to swallow it."
Jim drank the liquid -which tasted just as foul as it smelled, by the way- and then dropped back into his pillow. He was utterly exhausted. Fortunately, the medicine' contained a slight sophorific and he felt its effects almost immediately.
Far away, he thought he heard McCoy speak.
"Well, Spock, maybe Jim will learn his lesson this time."
"I still believe it was unethical to withhold treatment this long, Doctor."
"It was for a good cause, Spock. You can bet your lucky ear-warmers that Jim won't be forgetting to use protection from now on."
"Ear-warmers, Doctor?"
"I meant ear-muffs, Mr. Spock."
"Ear-muffs?"
"This is weird," Jim said aloud, "I keep hearing you talk civilly to each other. Can't be true."
"Can't be," agreed Bones. "Unless it's for the benefit of our good captain."
"Wha... What?" Jim could hardly focus his eyes on them anymore.
"Just go to sleep, Jim."
Spock chose that moment to take his leave.
"If you'll excuse me," he said, and his words seemed directed to the poor man huddled under the sheets, "I have a dinner engagement with Lt. Uhura."
"Oh, he's so smug," Jim muttered just before he drifted off.
The End