Ch-3: Arguments, Feminism and Shrines (Inc.)

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Nesserace: Aww, thank you for the long review! Yes...sympathise is a really difficult word, ne? I can never spell it...Microsoft just corrected me three times...XD. Sure, I'll gives ya an autograph! The minute I figure out how I can get paper to go through a modem...(I always thought fax machines did that). I don't know...do decaffeinated mocha-lattes exist? I was writing that halfway through reading a Dilbert comic, so I just naturally assumed Scott Adams would know...You like anime! Woo-hoo, good going. Isn't Vash the best?

Boopsma: I could be wrong, but I think that reference was supposed to be a form of screwed-up Pig Latin...it basically means "Don't mention the fan fiction!" -- "Ixnay" meaning "don't mention".

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Riley was having trouble keeping up with Chekov, and it was annoying him to no end. Hands stuffed in pockets, the Irishmen wished to just wander along the polished (and yet dirty) faux-marble floor of the Brunnel centre, weaving in and out of imaginary crowds, real crowds, or those pigeons that just seemed to get in everywhere. The navigator, on the other hand, had other ideas. He was not walking – he was stalking – and his idea of looking for the Captain was to look in every shop window for a couple of nano-seconds, then carry on.

'Chekov! Hey! Wait up!' Riley called for the umpteenth time. The Russian stopped abruptly, and Riley nearly stumbled into him. 'Hey, could you slow down a little? This whole looking-for-the-Captain thing is really important!'

Chekov folded his arms. 'Riley, you know as vell as I do that the Keptin is a main character. The likelihood of us losing him permanently is wery, wery tiny.'

Riley shrugged. 'Yeah, but we need something to do. We've nearly searched all of the shops in the centre, and we haven't even spotted him.'

'Of course ve hawen't! Othervise this vould be a wery, wery short fan fiction.'

Riley frowned. 'Your accent appears to be getting stronger and more incomprehensible than ever!' He moaned. 'What did you say?'

'I said – oh, look ower there!'

'No you didn't.'

'No, I mean, look ower there.' Chekov pointed to the window of Virgin Megastores. 'They're hawing a DWD sale!'

'DWD?' Riley repeated stupidly. 'What's a DWD?'

'A type of explosive.' Said a girl in a bright yellow anorak, zooming past on her bike.

'I meant D...' Chekov seemed to have a lot of trouble saying the next part of the word. '...VD. That's vhat I meant – as you could see by just looking at the poster in the vindow.'

'Ahh.' Said Riley. He squinted at the poster. 'Hundreds of DVDs at lower-than-retail prices.' He read out. (His eyesight must have been super-good as well...Virgin Megastores was over the other side of the Brunnel centre and there were throngs of people in the way...). 'Well, maybe the Captain's there if they're having a sale.'

'Yes.' Chekov agreed. 'And look at the name of the shop! Let's go!'

The two men set off at a run through the crowds, scared they'd miss the Captain, and pelted straight past the escalator that McCoy, Scotty,Spock and the Captain were using to get to the autograph shop.

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'Sisters are doing it for themselves!'

It was most likely a very odd thing to see two women strolling casually down the street in Swindon, singing at the tops of their lungs and occasionally thrusting their hands into the air, hitting passers-by with overloaded shopping bags. They had barely been in the strange twenty-first-century town for half an hour, and already Chapel had hunted out all of the deals and Uhura all of the markets. Now, laden with clothes, second-hand books ('Books!' Chapel had cried delightedly, pointing at the old-fashioned paper objects), strange pots and several large chunks of French-market cheese, they were making their way across to "HMV", a store that apparently sold DVDs (for very cheap prices, boasted the poster in the window).

'If the Captain's anywhere,' Said Uhura, 'He'll be there. According to the window there's an all-weekend sale on DVDs, and that's bound to include Star Trek.'

Chapel nodded vigorously. 'Yes, yes.' She agreed, swinging her pot-filled carrier bag and accidentally hitting dodgy-looking mobile phone salesmen around the head. 'And once we get the DVDs we'll go back to the Enterprise, sit down all together in that room and watch them.'

'What room?' Asked Uhura.

'The one where people watching the Shakespearian play in "The Conscience of the King"...' Chapel tailed off as, once again, the mighty voice boomed from the sky.

'Ixnay on the "Conscience"-snay.' It said. Again, only Chapel and Uhura seemed to notice it.

'What was I saying?' Asked Chapel.

Uhura shrugged. 'Nothing very interesting, or I would have been listening. Do you have any idea how hard it is, listening to that little piece of an Action Man gun I have stuck in my ear twenty-four-seven? Hard. Very, very hard! All the time, I'm listening to all different frequencies – men complaining about their wives, wives complaining about their men, supply ships, starships, The Archers, the current affairs news, the Stock Market...'

'Wow.' Chapel was impressed. 'You can hear everything on that thing, no?'

'Yes.' Uhura rubbed her temples. 'And it's driving me crazy! Do you have any idea how painful the thing is?' She gestured at HMV. 'I want to get myself some headphones too. And maybe a Walkman. Do you think the Captain will notice me listening to a Walkman instead of the communications board?'

'He hardly notices your there at all, unless you have your legs crossed.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'We have a Captain with a veeerry short attention-span.'

'Yeah, we do, don't we?'

The two women arrived outside of HMV and stood looking at the huge neon sign on the front of the shop. 'I've always wondered what HMV stood for...' Said Chapel.

'Her Majesty's Videos?' Suggested Uhura.

'His Master's Voice?' Suggested Chapel back, not realising she was correct.

'Here Maybel Verbs?'

'Hair Men Vergessen?'

'Heil Mein Volkswagen?'

The two women looked at each other, then shrugged and gave up. 'Well, let's go in.' Uhura said, walking up to the cold metal door and opening it. 'If he's anywhere, he'll be here.'

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Kirk stared. And stared. And stared. It...it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. The most majestic...breathtakingly beautiful and wonderful scene ever to grace his eyes...it was...it was...

McCoy pulled a face. 'I can't believe they've dedicated an entire wall to William Shatner.' He said, disgusted. 'And only half a wall each to Leonard Nemoy and DeForest Kelly - not to mention James Doohan!'

'Who?' Asked Scotty.

'Um...I don't know.' McCoy diverted his gaze to the other side of the autograph shop – to a wall dedicated to Stargate SG1- and pretended to be thinking about Scotty's question.

'It's...it's wondrous...' Kirk was muttering in the meantime, eyes filling with tears and bright, shiny stars. 'It's...it's...'

'You.' Said Spock, Scottyand McCoy at once.

'Yes.' Agreed Kirk. 'Yes, it is...and it's so wondrous...'

Just then, the shop assistant walked back in from the darkroom behind the counter and spotted Kirk eyeing the wall display. 'Can I, like, help ya?' The shop assistant was tattooed from head to foot, had cropped bright pink hair and chains almost all over her. She could have been magnet-girl's twin sister.

'Yes...er...' Kirk managed to tear his eyes away from his shrine, and he walked over to the counter. 'Actually, I was going to offer an autograph signing...thing.'

The girl squinted at him, then at the William Shatner display, then back at him. She gasped. 'Strike a light, you're James T. Kirk!' She gasped, even though she'd never watched Star Trek in her entire life. 'You're, like, the Captain of the Enterprise.'

'That's right!' Kirk leant on the glass counter, smiling winningly. 'And I'd love to offer my services to you.' He winked.

The girl nodded at him, then looked over his shoulder. Her eyes widened. 'And you two are, like, Scotty, McCoy and Spock! This is so awesome!' She pointed at them. 'You stay right where you are! I'm just gonna go and get my boss.'

'Yes, ma'am.' Kirk saluted, then, when the girl left, turned back to Scotty, McCoy and Spock. 'You see, I told you this was a good idea.'

'Jim, it was my idea.' McCoy corrected.

Kirk frowned. 'Bones, we had no continuity in the series, and we have no continuity now. It was my idea, done and paid for.'

Spock had his turn to frown. 'Captain, you did not pay for doctor McCoy's idea. It was his own.'

'It wasn't copyrighted.' The Captain argued.

McCoy opened his mouth to argue back, then just left his jaw hang limply. The punk-girl had returned with her boss, the owner of the autograph shop.

Kirk turned too, and the smile fell off his face and hit the floor like a plummeting aeroplane. ('What's an aeroplane?' Asks Scotty).

'You...' Kirk whispered, pointing at the boss, who smiled back with insane charm.

It was Janice Lester.

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Mwahaaha, end of another chapter and all.

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Janice Lester, See: Turnabout Intruder, third season. Class episode, if you ask me.