Title: Southern Slangs of a Southern Gentleman
Words: Undetermined
Rating: T; Just in Case but really is G rated
Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series
Characters: Star Trek Characters
Summary: This is multiple one Shot fic's where Spock is confused by an expression McCoy uses.
Chapter 1: 'High Cotton Times'
Summary:
There was a pause.
"... Are you sure that you have not ingested some of the ale prior to showing the Captain Dr. McCoy?"
"Well, I'll be. I reckon we found our selves a jackpot here fellows."
Who'd haff thunk that the Romulans whould'a left this behind?
"Its illegal."
Yes, Captain obvious.
"Ah, we know how far 'illegal' goes by Romulan Ale standards Jimmie Boy."
"Aye, I must say Captain.. it is ah lookin' like a mighty fierce bounty ya got there."
Oh boy, Scotty had got that right. Looks to be enough for the whole entire crew ta get a taste. Although... who was wanten' to share?
Jim blew a layer of dust off one giving the bottle a good whiff. "Year... um.. unreadable."
"Must be some pretty wiry stuff eh Jim." McCoy says rubbing his hands together.
What a way to de-stress after three months of constant sickbay work. Patients in as quick as they were out.
The Flu. It seemed like it would never end. The constant battle with waves of individuals gettin' sick. Down right miserable.
"Doctor, this is a highly illegal substance, not to mention lethal in high dosages such as this."
And just like that, his bubble broke.
"Aye, but we only live once Mister Spock."
"Yea Spock, Lighten up... I'm sure what the federation doesn't know wont... kill em."
"No, but in turn will 'Kill' you."
"I'd hate the paperwork on that." The Captain groans next to him.
"Indeed."
"Now, Spock ya listen here, We're livin' in some pretty high cotton times here. Don't snag the way for everyone else. One bottle ain't gonna hurt nobody."
The crate had been here on the Forsaken planet long enough not to be missed... so why report it now?
Golly, right on time.
Watching the eyebrow raise in slow motion, a roll sent his hands to his hips. Just what was this pointed ear Commander-and-chief gonna do now? This infuriating Vulcan was more 'to the hand book guy' than the authors that wrote the handbook!
"... 'High Cotton Times' Doctor? Was not Cotton a plant in which Terrans made archaic cloth material?"
"It was aye expression Spock."
"Yes. A expression."
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"The ale is cotton Spock."
"... Are you sure that you have not ingested some of the ale prior to showing the Captain Dr. McCoy?"
"What no? Fer good heavens! I meant that the cotton was a key crop in the south and-"
"I do not see how that relates to the matter at hand Doctor, nor the Romulan Ale."
"If'd ya let me finish!"
"We do not have 'time' to understand your-"
"Boys, Boys... Were all handsome here. More some than others..." Kirk interrupts gesturing to himself in an amusing tone.
"However, I must agree with Spock here though Bones. We really should report this. It really is the right thing to do. As much as I'd like to pop a few... it just.. wouldn't sit right. How many did you say there were Mister Spock? Looks to be about a hundred of the-"
"Precisely 99 bottles."
"99?"
"Precisely."
2 Weeks Later
Walking into his office with a groan he sat down with a thunk at his desk.
The empty coffee cup flew to its side depositing it self in the trash receptacle.
Ga, he could use a brandy right now. He spent an all nighter... and all day working on re-categorizing the files due to be updated. Fun.
You know what... he was off shift...
You know what... why the #### not?
Reaching over into the concealed door in his desk his eyes immediately peeled noticing the unfamiliar bottle.
Huh.
Since when did he have... Picking the bottle up.
Romulan.. Ale...
Looking away and looking back again at the bottle he stared. Was his eyes deceivin' him? There was no way.
The only one who had transported the cargo of Ale to the federation authorities had been-
"Well, Ill be... that sneaky lil' Vulcan..."
Looking at the note,
Please Enjoy the 'Cotton'.
-Spock
