Disclaimer: Someday I will be a famous and wealthy author.  At which time I will rebuild Vukovar, own a silver convertible, and buy Star Trek.  Until then: Paramount.

Couldn't resist an Easter chapter.  So here it is.  Notes at the end.

Chapter Thirty-Eight:

Easter Aboard the Enterprise

One Saturday morning, in a random corridor of the Enterprise:

"Hey Jim!" McCoy called.  "Do you realize what tomorrow is?"  And then he waited.

Kirk didn't answer.

McCoy kept waiting.

Kirk continued not answering.

McCoy got impatient.  "Well?" he prompted.

"I am thinking," Kirk said slowly.  "Thinking very carefully.  I am trying to decide."

"About?"

"Which would be less dangerous.  To ask.  Or not to ask."

"Oh.  That.  Yes."  McCoy nodded sagely.  "I see.  So.  What have you decided?"

"I'm considering a third option."

"Which is?" McCoy asked blankly.

"Abandon ship," Kirk said with absolute seriousness.

McCoy took a certain amount of exception to that.  "Aw, come on.  I'm not that bad!"

Kirk looked at him.  "Okay.  Prove it.  Tell me what tomorrow is."

McCoy hesitated.  "How about I give you a really good hint instead?" he suggested.  "Eggs, and rabbits!"

The look had turned into a Look.  "One more word, and I'm leaving.  So the next word had better be what tomorrow is."

McCoy considered, and decided he'd better relent.  "Easter."

"Easter?"

McCoy nodded.  "Easter."

"Easter."

McCoy nodded again.  "Easter."

Kirk had had enough.  "Are you going somewhere with this?"

"Oh.  Right.  Well, I was thinking we should do something."

"Is this anything like your plans for Thanksgiving?" Kirk asked suspiciously.

"Pretty much identical.  Different food though, have to keep up with the changing seasons."

"Identical to Thanksgiving?"  Kirk did not seem pleased.

"Thanksgiving came off pretty good."  McCoy thought about it.  "After one or two minor problems."

"That I got stuck with."

"But it was worth it in the end.  Anyway, nothing like that will happen this time.  I promise."

"It just better not."

Which McCoy took to mean that he had permission (if slightly reluctant) to proceed.  So he did.  With a vengeance.

*  *  *

Saturday afternoon, in Rec Room ___ (fill in number less than twelve):

"Aw come on, Spock!"

Spock shook his head.  "No thank you, Doctor."

"Be a sport!"

Spock's eyebrow quirked.  "A 'sport?'"

"A nice guy," McCoy amended.

"I do not believe this is a necessary requirement to being a 'sport.'"

Kirk walked in on that line.  He blinked.  "Correct me if I'm wrong, but did Spock just use the word 'sport?'"

"The Doctor does not think I am being one," Spock said gravely.

"Oh," Kirk said, sitting down.  "So how exactly are you not being a sport?"

McCoy took it upon himself to answer that one.  "He's refusing to wear furry pink bunny ears!"

A half-hour later, Kirk was still laughing at the mere thought.

*  *  *

Sunday Morning, in the Mess Hall:

As occurred at Thanksgiving, shopping was planned to occur at a planet they were in orbit around.  And as at Thanksgiving, the person who was supposed to shop didn't.  Which led to a slight complication.  As McCoy was attempting to explain to Spock and Kirk when they dropped by the Mess Hall.

"There's, ah, been a slight complication," McCoy said, shifting uncomfortably.

"What sort of complication?" Kirk asked suspiciously.

Explanation followed, with much pausing, and a clear indication that McCoy really didn't want to tell this story.  "Well, see, I was going to buy the food from the planet early this morning, but I had a last minute surgery, so…well, Jones was hanging around in Sickbay, he had some kind of accident with a pineapple, and I figured, hell, why not…"

Kirk blinked.  "You didn't."

McCoy nodded unhappily.  "I did.  I sent Jones for the food.  And he got a little confused, I was explaining fast, and…well, Jim, you know how Jones is, and…"

"He didn't."

McCoy nodded unhappily.  "He did."

Spock, meanwhile, had been noting an odd noise from behind a nearby supply closet door.  He walked over to investigate.  McCoy noticed.

"Ah, Spock, I wouldn't open that door…" McCoy warned, a trifle too late.

The door opened.  And Spock was knocked flat onto his back by a very large, very fast, very alive pig.  The pig oinked once, looked at Spock, oinked again, and set off down the length of the Mess Hall.

Spock sat up, utterly unruffled.  "Remarkable."

Kirk wasn't taking it as well.  He dropped into a chair at the nearest table, looking stricken.  "No.  I did not just see what I'm pretty sure I just saw.  A large pink pig did not just knock over my science officer.  I may be deathly ill and hallucinating, but there is no pig on my ship.  None."

The pig, by now, had reached the end of the Hall, and come back.  He paused next to Kirk, looked at him, oinked, and continued running.  Only a quick movement kept McCoy on his feet.

"Like I said…Jones got a little mixed up…" McCoy said, looking pretty much anywhere but at Kirk.

"How mixed up?" Kirk asked, a dangerous edge in his voice.

"Well, ah, I don't know how exactly you can mix up dinner and farm, but…"  He paused, noticing that Spock had gotten to his feet and moved to the door next to the one the pig had been behind.  "Uh, Spock, I wouldn't open that closet either."

Too late.  The door opened.  Spock somehow lost his balance amidst a dozen or so hopping white rabbits and went down again.  The rabbits set off in pursuit of the pig, who fled, oinking, in front of them, apparently in terror.

Spock sat up, still unruffled.  "Most remarkable."

Kirk was shaking his head.  "Oh no.  No, no, no.  There may be a pig running around, but there are no rabbits.  Nope.  No rabbits are hopping around."

The pig, at this moment, ran underneath the long table Kirk was sitting at.  The rabbits jumped on top of the table and hopped in pursuit.  Eleven white rabbits with streaming pink ears bounced past Kirk.  One, in an effort to outdistance the pack, used the top of Kirk's head as a slight detour.

McCoy was trying to keep from laughing—hey, it's not every day a bunny hops on Jim, or Spock gets knocked over by a pig—and simultaneously explain to Kirk why these creatures were here, and why there was really no reason to get kill anyone over it.

"I guess I must have mentioned rabbits.  You know, the Easter Bunny, and all?  Well, Jones got a little mixed up."

"A little?  You call this a little?!"  Kirk threw up his hands.  "Heaven help us if he ever gets really mixed up!"  And then he noticed.  McCoy still had the same expression.  That expression of 'how am I going to keep Jim from finding out ______, because he'll kill me when he does find out.'  And then he realized.  There was a third door.  "There aren't any other animals, are there?" he asked apprehensively.  "Are there?"

"Ah, well…"

Spock decided that the fastest way to resolve the issue was to simply open the last door.  So he did, ignoring McCoy's "I wouldn't open that one either…"

The door opened.  And out flew a chicken.  Spock went down for the third time.  Squawking madly, he—the chicken, not Spock—flew across the Mess Hall, leaving feathers in his wake.  Several hens waddled out at a more decorous pace, walked over Spock, and wandered around the Mess Hall, clucking to each other.  Probably about these strange, two-legged, featherless creatures.

Spock sat up, shedding a few feathers, but remaining unruffled to the last.  "Most remarkable."

"No.  Definitely not.  No chickens.  A pig is one thing.  Rabbits are something else.  But chickens?  No."

McCoy shrugged.  "You know.  Eggs."

It was at this ill-timed moment that Jones, unfortunately for him, walked in.  "Dr. McCoy, I found a better place to hide—"  Who exactly was in the room registered on him.  He froze.  "Oh.  Captain.  Hello.  Happy Easter.  I'll just be going…"  He turned to make a fast exit, but it wasn't fast enough.

"Hold it!"  Kirk stood up, resisted the urge to kick a nearby chicken, and approached the unhappy-looking Ensign.  "I understand there was a slight misunderstanding.  That you got a little mixed-up.  Let me be perfectly clear.  I want these animals off my ship.  This is a starship, not a barnyard!"

Jones nodded vigorously.  "Yes, sir, sorry, sir."

The pig had grown tired from its running, and was standing nearby, oinking quietly too itself.  Kirk nudged it towards Jones with a foot.  "Do something with this pig!"

Jones continued nodding.  "Yes, sir, I'll take care of Wilbur, sir."

Kirk paused in his rant.  He shook his head.  "No.  The pig does not have a name.  No."

"I was always fond of Charlotte's Web as a child…"  Jones trailed off.  "No, sir.  No name."

"You take care of the pig!" 

Jones nodded.  "Yes, sir."

Kirk scooped up a couple of rabbits, and shoved them at McCoy.  "And you take care of the rabbits!"

McCoy nodded, trying to deal with the squirming armful of rabbit.  "Yes, sir."  When Kirk got like this, even McCoy found it wise to go with 'sir' rather than 'Jim.'

"And you…"  Kirk realized the only one left was Spock.  "And you are completely uninvolved, so I can't throw chickens at you."  He seemed vaguely disappointed.

Spock nodded.  "Thank you for taking that into consideration, Captain."

"Sure, no problem.  Ensign, was anyone else involved in this…fiasco?"

"Well, uh, Smith helped me shop…"

"Good.  Find Smith, and get him here.  I need to throw chickens at someone, and quickly!"

Jones nodded vigorously.  "Yes, sir!"  He turned, rushed towards the door, tripped over the pig, and fell with a yelp.

McCoy laughed.  Kirk groaned.  Spock remained, naturally, utterly unruffled.

*  *  *

Sunday Afternoon:

Three o'clock, and the party was in full swing.  They ate replicated ham, but no one complained.  Not much anyway.  Spock, to McCoy intense irritation, had dropped by, took a dish of scalloped potatoes, and retreated, insisting that someone had to be on the bridge.  Which wasn't entirely unreasonable, as must of the crew seemed to be present.  And most seemed to be enjoying themselves thoroughly.  Even Kirk, although he retained a certain amount of concern regarding their early morning visitors.

"You got rid of the pig?  And the chickens?  And the rabbits?"  Kirk was determined to confirm this.

McCoy nodded.  "Oh yeah.  Totally taken care of."

"So they're completely gone."

McCoy hesitated a split-second, then nodded again.  "Yeah.  Definitely.  Gone."

But Kirk was not to be fooled.  "And what aren't you telling me?"

McCoy hedged.  "Well they aren't…completely gone, exactly."

"Bones…"

"Which doesn't mean they aren't completely taken care of!" McCoy said hastily.  "We couldn't get 'em back to the planet in time, but we got 'em out of the way anyway.  We've got 'em all locked in an empty crew quarters."

"And they aren't going to get out, are they?"

"Of course not," McCoy promised.  "In fact, I sent Jones to check on them not ten minutes ago."

"Okay.  Good."

For a moment, all was peaceful.  And then.  A noise at the door.

McCoy frowned.  "Did you just hear—"

"No," Kirk said firmly.  "I didn't hear an oinking at the door, and neither did you."

"I don't know, Jim, I think—"

"No."

But denial only worked as long as the door stayed shut, which it didn't for long.  Within two minutes someone tried to go out.  He didn't get out, but one pig, six chickens, and twelve rabbits got in.

"Maybe…there's a slight possibility they could get out," McCoy admitted.

"Slight?"

The pig was running wild, the chickens were squawking, and people were shouting.  The rabbits, at least, were rapidly finding owners.

McCoy was attempting to puzzle the matter out.  "I'm guessing the pig knocked over Jones, and then came here because this is where it was before."

"And the rabbits and the chickens just came along for kicks, I suppose?" Kirk said sharply.

McCoy shrugged.  "I suppose."

At that moment, a wild-eyed Ensign Jones rushed in.  "Doctor!  The pig got out! The pig—"  He looked around.  "Oh.  Um.  I'll just, uh, catch the pig.  I guess."

The pig wasn't happy about being caught though, which led to a wild chase through the Mess Hall, which wound up involving most of the partygoers.  Kirk and McCoy remained seated somewhere in the middle of it all, McCoy looked apprehensively at the disturbingly calm Kirk.

"At least our parties are never dull," McCoy suggested.

"I'm trying, trying very hard, to look on the bright side," Kirk said slowly.

"Oh.  Good idea, that," McCoy said, nodding.  "Bright sides are always a good thing.  Um…what is the bright side?"

"Well, despite having names like Kirk and McCoy, plus a Scottish engineer, we still didn't even think about celebrating St. Patrick's Day."

"This is the bright side?"

"You know what they eat on St. Patrick's Day, don't you?"

"Sure, corned beef and cabbage."

Kirk nodded.  "Right.  And knowing Jones, he'd have found some way to bring back a cow!"

Heehee, that was fun.  Weird, but fun.

Emp: Yeah, I figured it would be just like Spock to remain utterly calm while the restaurant dissolves in chaos around him. : )

Blynneda: Well, I would read the 101011011 etc., except the website won't let me copy/paste, and I'm not even going to try to retype 1001110011 etc.  I don't know what would have happened if Spock had won the bet…well, McCoy would've had fits, but aside from that.  And the two of them trying to eat dinner without anyone else?  That would be interesting.  I'm betting McCoy would walk out before dessert.  Maybe before salad.

Taskemus: No ensigns?  But then characters we actually care about would have to get hurt!  (Ouch.  That sounded so callous.  I apologize.)  I believe red-shirts serve a necessary function in adding a sense of danger, excitement and risk, without requiring main characters to be killed/injured.  And you can't beat them for slightly morbid comic relief.

Alania: Yep, even agreeing Spock bugs McCoy, and don't think it's not deliberate!

PearlGirl: Severe funnyness…I don't think that's a word but I like it.

Ms. Vegeta Black: I don't know what would have happened if the waiters found out, and I don't think Kirk wanted to know either.

Whatsyername: Yeah, poor everyone.  Including (aHEM) poor Simmons who is STILL in dire straits…

Pallee: People spend a surprising amount of time crawling around in vents…did that in Smallville too.

Silverfang: From the point of view of Surak…I may have to do that sometime.

Wow, that was long.  Very cool.  Happy Easter everyone!  And if you don't celebrate Easter, Happy Weekend anyway!  And if you live in New Zealand and it's already Monday, Happy Spring Break!  (I think I've covered everyone.  I'll go.  Leave a review please.)