Title: Sick as a Dog
Author: brodiew
Characters: Uhura, Kirk
Timeframe: Academy days
Summary: Nyota reluctantly watches over a very sick Jim Kirk.
Author note: I can't remember where I picked up this plot bunny, but it was one I could not resist. I love to write the banter, especially tinged with a little venom. ;-P
Enjoy!
Sick as a Dog
"No!" Nyota Uhura declared, firmly.
"Pleeease!" Galia begged, earnestly. "I've got a class in ten minutes across the commons."
"Hello no!" Nyota repeated, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes at her buoyant roommate.
"All you have to do is check on him every half hour or so," Galia said, giving Nyota puppy dog eyes. "He's so sick. He'll be like watching a baby sleep."
"No 'like' about it," Nyota said sarcastically. "He is a baby."
"Easy-peasy, then, right?" Galia said expectantly. "You'll do it?"
Before Nyota could offer a third and final rejection, Galia wrapped her in a tight hug and started jumping up and down. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
"Gal-" Nyota started to protest before the hug was released and Galia headed toward the door.
Over her shoulder the Orion shouted: "Remember! Every thirty minutes! I'll be back in three hours!"
Nyota growled in frustration and plopped down on the couch, arms still folded. The last thing she wanted to do was play nursemaid to the insufferable Jim Kirk.
Nyota stood outside Kirk's dorm room, debating whether or not to knock. In fact she wasn't sure how she got from her room to this one. The only explanation was some subconscious loyalty factor; otherwise known as guilt. She hated letting a friend down; even one who steamrolled her into a task she wouldn't wish on anyone, much less a friend.
Raising her hand to a tentative knock, she watched in surprise as the door swung open a lightning speed.
"-don't care if you listen to me or not, Jim," said Leonard McCoy. "But, if you want to get better, I'd take your medicine."
McCoy turned and almost ran Nyota over in his haste to exit the room. "Damn! Er, Sorry, I mean," he said, reaching out to her shoulder to keep her from falling. "You ok?"
Nyota shrugged his hands from her shoulders and straightened her uniform. "Fine," she replied, coldly.
"What are you doing here?" McCoy asked, surprised by her presence. When she didn't answer immediately, he shrugged: "Never mind. I gotta run, anyway."
"I'm not sure what I'm doing here, Leo," she replied, absently.
"I hope you figure it out," McCoy said, turning back to the open door. "You got company, Sad Sack!" Turning back to her, he blurted: "Make him take his medicine."
Nyota stared blankly at McCoy's back as he raced down the hall.
"Galia?" emerged Kirk's voice from within the room. He stretched the name out in a long, breathy line. It was enough to spark her entrance to the room if only to tell him how pathetic his theatrics were.
Her readiness to do battle with Kirk was blindsided when stepped inside. Kirk's side of the room was a disaster area. A virtual mountain range of clothes stretched from the foot of his bed, around his desk and across the front of his closet. The room smelled like sweaty men. Unbelievable.
Kirk's head protruded two stacked comforters. He looked small covered by the fluffy blankets.
"Sorry," she said evenly. "No giggly green girlfriend, here."
Kirk tried to sit up when he heard her voice. He tried a winning smile, but ended up giving her smarmy and creepy instead. "Oh, Valerie, it's…you."
"Nope," she replied. "You should just stop trying. The fact that you continue to guess means you're still interest in flirting with me. That ship sailed in Iowa more than a year ago. Deal with it. And, another thing, you're dating my roommate. She's also my friend. Your flirting should upset her, but knowing Galia, she'd probably ask me to join you."
Kirk's eyes popped, though lazily, at the possibility.
Nyota huffed. "You are pathetic."
"And you…never pass up and opportunity to kick a man…when he's down," Kirk replied weakly.
Nyota folded her arms, tightly, and clamped down on another biting response. She looked out the window.
"You seem fine," she bit out. "I'll be back in half and hour. You better be asleep."
She turned to leave, but stopped when Kirk launched into a coughing fit which racked his whole body. His comforters, which had been lying at an awkward angle, both fell to the floor.
Damn, she thought.
Kirk lay on his side, still covered by a sheet and light blanket, trying to suppress the fit. She kneeled down and picked up the comforters and threw them back over the truly ill cadet.
"Thanks," he choked out.
"No problem," she said turning to leave.
"Uhura?"
"What is it, Kirk?" she said, irritated that she wasn't already out the door and back at her room.
"Bones left me…cough…some medicine there…cough…on the dresser."
"So," she said from the doorway.
"Could you get it…cough… for me?"
Nyota frowned, staring intently at her nemesis. He looked pitiful.
"I'm tempted to let you suffer," she replied. "On principal.
Kirk moaned.
"But Galia was right," she said with a wicked smile. "You are sick as a dog. Though, I may take pleasure in kicking you while you're down, I'd never kick a dog."
"Lucky…me," Kirk wheezed.
"Damn right," Nyota retorted. "Where's the hypo?"
"No hypo," he groaned. "Bones concocted something himself. Some foul tasting tea."
"How do you know its foul tasting," she asked.
"He told me."
Nyota smiled. Good for you, Leo. She saw the mug on the dresser; a Starfleet issue tall mug. She peeked inside to get a good look at the brew and was hit with a powerfully bitter, putrid odor. She had to take a step back.
"Wow!" Nyota said blinking tears from her eyes. Whatever Leo had concocted, it was not going to go down easy. Picking up the mug, she held it out to Kirk; close enough for him to grab it.
Kirk didn't move.
"Take it!" Nyota said forcefully. "This stuff is seriously rank."
"I can't," Kirk whispered. "I'm afraid my shaking…hands will spill it or…drop the mug altogether. Can you hold it up to my lips so I can drink it?"
Nyota shot Kirk a venomous glare. "Not in this lifetime, Ace. You better take this cup."
"Pleeeeease," Kirk whined.
This infuriated her more, but she didn't throw the mug at his head which was the first course of action that came to mind. Instead, she set the mug back on the dresser.
"You are a sorry-"
"Listen, Uhura," he interrupted, sitting up as best he could. "It's nice of you to come by and try and cheer me up, but I really to get some rest. So, if you're not going to be helpful, please leave."
Having said this, he seemed to deflate and sink below the billowy comforters. He was pale and had sunken, dull blue eyes, which seemed almost grey. His hair was matted with sweat, and though she tried to ignore it, she could see that he was shivering. The guy was in bad shape. He really needed some help.
"You listen, Kirk," she answered. "If you tell another living soul, especially Galia, that I did this, I'll make you suffer for it; long and hard.
Kirk lowered the covers enough for her to see him smile. He opened his mouth to retort, but she raised a swift decisive hand to stop him.
"Not a word!"
She lifted the mug again and he sat up in expectation. She placed the mug in his face and he turned away in disgust, getting a whiff of the tea. "Damn, Bones! What the hell is in there?"
"Cowboy up, Farmboy," she said pressing the mug to his lips.
"Hold my?" he asked, taking his life in his hands.
Nyota laughed, derisively. "No. Drink."
He did. His face twisted and contorted with each swallow. She relished every moment.
"Slow down," Kirk said, rust colored tea dribbling from his chin.
"Oops," she said. "Sorry about that."
"Sure you are," Kirk said clearly. The tea must have soothed his throat. "You're enjoying this aren't you?
She smiled sweetly, but didn't answer.
"Great. Well, I appreciate it anyway. You can go now."
The fight had gone out of her. She decided to let him be. She returned the mug to its place and turned back to Kirk.
"Get some rest," she said evenly. "I'll check on you in thirty minutes. Sleep would be a good idea."
