CHAPTER THIRTEEN
McCoy stared coldly at the Captain's back, as Kirk furiously preened himself in the turbo lift door's as he had been since they had dived into the tiny compartment.
"Listen Sir Percy Blackeney, I just wanted to say I think you handled that entire faux pas from hell like the dainty little panic monger that we've come to love." The pertinacious physician finally grunted hunching his shoulders another few degree's.
"Thanks Bones." Kirk murmured obliviously as he while running the tip of his pinky over an eyebrow. "I did what I do best."
"Ain't that the truth." McCoy grumbled as the blue slits glinted dangerously at the spot between Kirk's shoulder blades.
"But then, I really didn't do it all on my own." Replied Kirk curling his upper lip to examine his perfect set of canines then ran his tongue over the unblemished pearly's. "You did manage some assistance at the end."
"Like I had a choice." Pointed out McCoy as a nerve twitched under his right eye.
"You saw your Captain in danger Bones, and as expected did what was necessary to protect me." Giving himself one more quick inspection at his reflection, Kirk slipped the well rehearsed curl of charm on to his lips and turn toward McCoy.
"Ha!" Barked the Doctor, the frosty blue stare widening in choler. "Picking me up and throwing me at the damn thing is not what I would exactly call doing what was necessary."
"You were there Bones! You saw what it did!" Exclaimed the Captain, as if the horror of the events were being relived in front of his wide gold flecked eyes. "That creature was on the verge of assaulting my person. God only knows what sort of insidious, cruel intentions the little bastard had in mind if you hadn't made your sacrifice, Bones."
Wiggling himself further into the corner of the turbo lift, McCoy's lips worked furiously as he continued glaring at the inflated man in front of him.
"It was a sheep Jim."
"An alien sheep, need I remind you." Snorted Kirk with the same heated suspicion he would've used with a squadron of Klingon's or the pouty, 36-22-36 blonde in engineering who turned him down for the seventh time.
"It was a damn stereo-typical, complaisant, follow the biggest animal in front of them, domesticated beast of burden. If someone had pulled a red shirt over it, you probably would've mistaken it for the head of security! The only thing it was considering at the time was the cook's hair net it was chewing on and a ball of gas it's had stored up since getting on this ship!" McCoy finally shouted instantly regretting it as the reverberation rattled the eardrums and teeth of both men in the confined space.
"Is that what that was?" Kirk mused as he reviewed the cafeteria incident again in his mind, a twisted and disturbed expression filtered on to his face.
"I thought it was a defensive reaction when you started screaming like Rand."
"That trick is yours Jim. Which reminds me to refill anti-gas prescription when the next med. shipment arrives." Snorted the Doctor with a vaguely disturbed expression flashing across his face. "And I'll have you know Jim, that most people tend to scream after being bounced off a table then ricocheting off a wall before landing on five red shirts."
"Yes Bones. But look at this way you received a high score from the rest of the crew for difficulty." Kirk quickly replied as he whipped back around to gaze at his reflection again with a heavy hue of adoration that would've given Narcissi a serious case of gas. "You blew that whole antiquated, negligent doctor façade right out of the water with the action's you were forced into today."
"Someone had to take action, didn't they Jim." Hissed McCoy from his corner glaring off at the corner opposite of him after briefly glowering at the Captain's back. "I mean, we certainly didn't want you to have crawl out of the recycler and have to come up with capabilities of putting five words together to make an order come out of your fat mouth, did we? That would've put a damper on that little cuddling frenzy you and Lt. Spytlle were partaking in, wouldn't it? I wonder what Headquarters would think of that report. Especially with actual, flesh and blood witnesses this time."
Whirling around on the Doctor again, Kirk jabbed a stubby index finger at the challenging blue eye and started to speak. After a 1.2 second period of thought he reconsidered and spun back around to glare sourly at the lift doors.
"Why is it taking so damn long!" He snarled ignoring the foam that now freckled his reflection.
Barely able to contain his smug smile, McCoy rolled his eyes toward the ceiling while innocently oozing from the corner of his mouth.
"Someone hasn't activated the lift yet."
-/\- -/\- -/\-
"So Bones, what's this line I'm hearing about a play onboard my ship that I'm not the star of?"
It was the first time Kirk had spoken since initiating the lift with a colorful idiom that took the computer a moment to decipher. So McCoy's annoyance at the peace being disturbed was understandable.
"Play?" Repeated the briefly befuddled Doctor before the hasty applied subterfuge from earlier gave him a swift kick. "Oh yea, that play. You see Jim, we've been rehashing it and were considering just tossing out what we're working on. Start all over from scratch. Musical has been ruminated upon. A light comedic musical. Not your forte Jim. No big meaty dramatic part to let your behemoth 'personality' of yours to wallow around in. And you know after what happened with 'State Fair', it just seem like an idea that you might want to pass on this."
Pain wrenched Kirk's face at the mention of his last musical stint. "Prudent forethought. I still maintain that I was made for that Ann-Margaret role."
"Right Jim." Sighed McCoy trying to ignore the passing slap he received from a bouncy brunette in a science blue mini. "Just like the 'King and I'. Who woulda thought that a regulation Starfleet replicator wouldn't be able to find a full hoop skirt in your size before curtain time."
Giving the physician a quick suspicious double take, Kirk activated the chimes to Spock's door, while wondering if the good Doctor had bypassed his cabin's private security code again.
"What one did you finally settle on?"
"Hmmmm?" Squinting at the Captain, McCoy frantically ripped through his brain. "'Judgment at Nuremberg.'"
The cabin door opened before Kirk had time to analyze the response allowing McCoy to suck in a lungful of clear air before dodging passed a vaguely perplexed Spock.
"I was about to contact you Captain." Spock said as Kirk swaggered into the still haze filled cabin.
Face wrinkling at the sinus puckering perfumery that seem to have intensified while they were absent, Kirk waved away some of the haze to get a clearer view of his First Officer.
"Problem, Mr. Spock."
There was a withering snort followed by a poorly concealed coughing spasm in McCoy's direction, that was silently observed by the two ever so slightly disdained officer's until the final hoarse bark from the crumpled up Doctor died.
"Hardly sir." The Vulcan finally replied habitually folding his arms in front of him and averted his gaze away from the gasping McCoy. "Actually I have been reevaluating my resources as well as the information the Doctor has given us."
"That's it!" Kirk blurted out, head tilting precisely to let the stray lock fall over his creased forehead. "That's all you've been doing in here since we left! Sitting on that flat ass of yours, introspecting the lint in your belly button!"
"Probably…playing that damn…Ferengi online poker again." Wheezed McCoy while slowly climbing back to his feet. "And after you…ordered him to desist in such behavior…again."
Ignoring the Doctor as he collapsed into the work station chair, Kirk fixed a flinty eye on the ever patient Vulcan, whose well trimmed eyebrow barely twitched in either expectation or dare.
"If you recall Captain," Spock began before it had a chance to involve into another carnival of contrite dramatics and rustic recantations. "it was I who brought the gambling issue to your attention, and it was the Doctor that was discovered using the sickbay computers for his gaming habit while using your personal financial account number."
Several seconds went by as the Captain glanced at McCoy from the corner of his eye as he pieced together, rearranged and then reformed the sentences again.
"You said you'd been rethinking our problem Spock?" Leaping from the chair, McCoy fixed an enthusiastic grin on his face as he bounced through the aromatic vapor toward the two men. "So Brainchild, what have you com up in that wonderfully brilliant, perfectly coiffure hard head of yours? And ya better not use any words like phenomenon, infinitesimal, scientific impossibilities and future defoliation."
"Cluricauns." The Vulcan's lips barely wiggled.
"Hah?"
"Can you say that to your Commanding Officer?" Kirk asked his Chief Medical Officer, a stupefied line appearing between his eyebrows.
"Beats the hell outta me Jim." Grunted Bones unsure if he should be awed, wary or repulsed. "I still haven't made up my mind if it was actually came out of his mouth."
One elegant eyebrow swept upwards several centimeters was the only expression of his undying frustration, as the dark stare glinted like the backside of an iceberg
"Wouldn't mind repeatin' that, Spock? With your mouth this time if you don't mind." McCoy politely asked already shifting enough to make a leap for his life if the need arose.
"Cluricauns." The word was repeated with each syllable clipped with the frigidness of snapping icicles.
"Yep. That's what I thought he said." McCoy said with a solid confirming nod, as if no one else could have come to the same conclusion. "Now you all wouldn't mind telling the rest of us what the hell it is!"
"It Doctor, is perhaps what we are dealing with." Moving back to his computer, a swirling mass of scented fog trailing behind the Vulcan.
"Okay." The belief Kirk's voice would've partially filled a specimen cup as he screwed a deeply profound look on his face and his mind ran wildly trying to grasp something recognizable. "And what you're tying to tell us is what we may actually be struggling with is something that could possibly be something else…."
"For crying out Ghost of Jefferson Davis, leave it at the side of damn road Jim!" Snarled McCoy as he gave the Captain a sidelong repulsed glare, while heading over to the workstation. "By the time you get done with yer embroidered spiel, we could all turned into breadfruit and tribbles will be overlords of the galaxy. Now let Spock elucidate us."
"You'd rather listen to a man with all the personality of a comatose pet rock, and I remind you Bones you were the one who said that." Kirk hurriedly jabbed an accusing finger in McCoy's direction as he walked toward the workstation.
"True, but the pointy eared chunk of granite can construct small concise sentences that even I can understand with only minor help." Explained McCoy propping his rear on the edge of the work table, trying not to suck in a any of the thickening incense. "you can't even sneeze without making it into a three act play. Besides, why the hell should I care what you have to say. Every since this perverse horror began you've been trying seven way from Christmas to get me placed a s a nurses aide in the gynecological department of a woman's prison."
"May I propose gentlemen, that we resolve our current dilemma first." Interrupted Spock his fingers itching for a quick double nerve pinch, if only for a full ten minutes of silence and a chance to roll the pair into the nearest recycling chute. "Then the entire crew will be given an opportunity to decide for themselves which of you two truly is the utmost intolerable bastard."
"Fine." Growled both men, followed by McCoy giving the Vulcan a suspect double take.
"To continue, I believe it is plausible that what the Doctor has inadvertently blighted the ship with is a Cluricauns." Spock had choose to continue as well as ignore the ugly curl to the Doctor's lip.
"I thought it was a leprechaun." The bemused Captain glanced from Spock to McCoy to his reflection in the ceremonial shield hanging on the wall behind the Doctor.
"Possibly." Murmured Spock with barely a noticeable shift of his head.
"Two seconds ago you said it was a cler…clerek…klerkendorn, whatever." McCoy countered, calculating how long a middle-aged human male could stay legally alive after blowing a major blood vessel to ones' brain.
"Cluricauns." Spock corrected while activating the computer again as his lips pressed just a fraction tighter. "Another possibility."
"Spock," There was a irritated chuckle mixed in Kirk's voice as he rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. "It's been a long day, I've been insulted repeatedly, rebuffed repeatedly, thrashed repeatedly and to top it off I smell like Chekov's cabin after Saturday night. Believe me when I say Mr. Spock, now is not the time for one of you r nerve grinding intellectual games to make the same point again. Yes. Yes you do have the biggest brain on this ship. Now get to the damn point before I haul Scotty up here with bagpipe. I understand he has been practicing some of your Vulcan meditation music."
A disturbed shade of green briefly passed over Spock's face as he quickly glanced back at his computer screen.
"From what I am able to ascertain, there is also known in earth folklore another line of…the fairy tribe." Pausing Spock waited for the run of jocularity. When none came he considered glanced at the two humans, then thought better of it. "That are also believed to be a 'cousin' of the leprechaun. The Cluricauns."
Kirk and McCoy exchanged dubious looks at the seemingly obvious or supposedly seemingly obvious explanation, but reluctantly refrained from saying anything.
"Other than a pink tinge about their nose, they are said to resemble a true leprechaun perfectly. However they reportedly refrain from having anything to do with the cobbling profession that their cousins are renowned for." Again he paused, waited a heartbeat letting his fine tuned ears try to catch a whisper of a guffaw then quickly went on. "They are reputed to be the actual cause of misfortune that is generally laid upon the leprechaun folk. Such as releasing animals to run a muck, as well as the appropriation of liquor and in general are known to be obstinate as well as agitators who take pleasure in observing their handy work unseen."
Falling silent, Spock moved his chair enough to look back at the two humans, barely containing the dourness in his steady dark gaze.
Rocking on his heels, McCoy puckered his lips in his speculation, an eyebrow arching as the blue eyes rolled in the direction of Jim who was digging under his fingernails.
"Well, we can guess which side of the family you came from, eh Spock." Murmured McCoy catching the Vulcan's steady gaze and slowly rising eyebrow from the corner of his eye. "
"Humorous, not Doctor."
"You said possibly on both counts Spock. Care to elaborate a tad."
A stunned lull filled the cabin as both McCoy and Spock stared at the Captain and the lucid alertness he had maintained on the core subject at hand.
"Yes…yes Captain." Spock hurriedly offered while glancing back at the screen keeping his emotionless mask intact with some extra work. "I've also uncovered arguments that claim in fact that the leprechauns and Cluricauns are one in the same. Cluricauns are a creation of the leprechauns themselves, to sway blame of their own contumacious behavior away from their own peculiar reputation."
Is it me or does anyone realize were standing around discussing prevention tips for the reputation of imaginary bugaboos?" McCoy abruptly asked to no one particular as he gazed from Kirk to Spock and back to the Captain. "Three grown me standing around talking about something that is a supposed figment of our semi sanity, doesn't sound just a little odd?"
"Remember the stampeding agricultural hit squad." Reminded Kirk studying his left thumb nail meticulously then shot a meaningful look at Bones.
"As well as the seemingly numerous, unexplainable females whom have strayed from their normal behavior of daily life aboard the ship in their irrational pursuit of your person, Doctor." Spock added the aggravatingly indifferent expression had refit itself on to his face as he gazed up at McCoy. "There is also the highly suspicious and instantaneous skills at three dimensional chess."
"Not to mention my ship smell's like Noah's Ark ten minutes after every animal left. And I might be able to handle that except for the fact that every drop of liquor onboard the ship has been sucked up by that little phantasmal fart." Kirk added the pique starting to rise in his voice again, hinting at the tension that was on the verge of blowing the tight seams of his velour shirt.
Sensing himself being placed in a corner of heavy blarney stone, McCoy slowly began rocking on his heels once more as he studied a tiny piece of artwork on the wall through narrowed eyes.
"And I suppose somehow you both are convinced that all of this is my fault." He finally sniffed, still refusing to look at either of the two men.
"Captain," Hand immediately coming up as he intervened, Spock gave Kirk a pointed look to keep him from doing anything rash. "Allow me to ask the Doctor a few questions on the matter, then you may vent your violent frustration."
With an audible snort, Kirk relaxed slightly yet was visibly straining against his aggravation while loudly cracking the knuckles of his right hand.
Clearing his throat McCoy eyed the Captain as he moved half a step away from the man while Spock began speaking.
"While on planet side you intimated that you discovered this…'Fred', in need of assistance. Correct?'
"Yea." Was the grunted response as Bones kept his cautious blue gaze darting for Kirk to Spock and back. "He was stuffed in a burlap sack hanging from a tree. How many ways can I keep telling the same story?"
"You claim to then have assisted this 'Fred' from his imprisonment. Correct?" While speaking Spock shifted his attention back to the monitor, the dark stare scanning the information he had brought up.
"Yea. Eventually." McCoy murmured with a noncommittal roll of a shoulder, not wanting to get into his phaser capabilities again.
"Once freedom was secured, did this 'Fred' proffer anything in gratitude for your aid?"
There was an awkward pause as McCoy became absorbed with a spot on the floor just two inches from the toe of his left boot.
Ten seconds had gone with no response when a strangled humming noise slowly began to rumbled from the Doctor's throat.
Head cocking to one side, Kirk narrowed his gaze on McCoy. "Bones. Why aren't' you answering Spock's question?"
"I don't have to answer any questions if I don't want to." Replied the Doctor, the defensiveness rising higher in his voice as he crept further back another few inches. "I never agreed to answering anyone's questions."
"Bones." Growled Kirk. "What the hell did you do!"
"Nothing! I swear, absolutely nothing." McCoy snapped back. "I shot the little beggar down, we exchanged a few barbs, he tried to say thanks, I in turn tried giving the brush off and well,…you've seen the massive damage they tiny carpetbagger has managed."
"Ah." Murmured Spock with a confident single nod of his head.
"That better be a damn good 'ah'." Kirk responded through clenched teeth.
"The information I have attained, claims that upon extricating any of these creatures, be it a leprechaun or Cluricauns, they are basically required to show appreciation for their rescue."
"Meaning what?" Demanded the Captain wishing for once that someone would get to the damn point. "He'll shine his boots? Darn his long johns? Fix prune Danish for him for breakfast every morning? What!"
"In general, wishes."
"Wishes?" Repeated Kirk a cross of skepticism and disappointment.
The Vulcan nodded once then fixed his gaze on the somewhat distressed McCoy.
"Is that true Bones? My reputation could've been saved if you would've just opened that bucolic yapper of yours and said yes?" Taking a step toward the Doctor, Kirk struggled with a conscious that kept firmly pointing out a Starfleet rep meant nothing in a high security penitentiary.
"Listen Jim, for all I knew he could've been drunk dwarf Klingon! I mean, doesn't' it sound a little ridiculous out here in the middle of space and just happen to find a 'leprechaun'? He coulda been a outta luck galactic insurance salesman who was desperate to make a sales. You woulda reacted the same way." Countered McCoy seriously reprimanding himself for not taking the insanity rap earlier.
"Are you nuts!" Kirk exclaimed straightening up in his vehemence. "In a heartbeat fella, in a heartbeat!"
"And blow that model of integrity you've beguiled the rest of the universe into believing." Chortled McCoy wickedly before taking another quick step back from the Captain's reach.
Glancing over at the computer screen again, Spock patiently waited through the next five minutes of arguing, his mind already setting up his personal vegetarian menu for the next month.
"All you had to do was ask for a damn pecan pie, just to get rid of him." Kirk pointed out with a vicious wave of his hand. "Or just a bag of pecans! Or a damn nutcracker. I could've happily used that!"
"Next time I'm confronted with a mythical fairy creature hanging from a tree in a burlap bag, I'll just leave him there for you to find, all right!" McCoy huffed indignantly crossing his arms in front of him and partially turning his back on the Captain in a sulking manner.
"Captain," Determining enough steam had been brown off but there was a chance of the Doctor being irreversibly damaged, Spock choose to intervene again. "before this situation does escalate any further, may I make a proposal towards a plan."
"A plan? About time." Kirk huffed but kept a careful eye on the pouting McCoy. "The plan, details and number of red shirts needed."
"As of now I believe only one item is required." Was the slow reply from Spock while his eyes moved from Kirk to the only other person in the room.
Sensing the pair of stares, McCoy peered over his shoulder and immediately regretted it as he scowled in defeat.
"Can I at least wash the farm yard hoe down off before you two send me off to die?"
TBC