Second Date: Part 2

"OUT!" McCoy bellowed ramming an outstretched finger in the direction of the exit to his quarters as he pressed the control button for opening the doors.

I stand on the other side. Confused I tilted head to the side and said, "Ummm … okay … sorry … did I get the time wrong?"

McCoy grumped, "Oh for heaven's sake, not you." He turned and gestured at Kirk and Spock. "These two." He amended, silently and solely to himself so to preserve respect for command authority, these two morons.

Spock inclined his head to me. "Lieutenant."

"Commander." I nod in Kirk's direction, "Captain."

Kirk flashes his most charming smile as he approaches the door hand outstretched in welcome. "Come in, come in." After settling me in an armchair, Kirk busied himself making drinks and small talk. "How was your shift? May I use your given name?

"Ah … fine … and yes." I glanced at McCoy who is leaning against the far wall, my eyes communicating a bevy of questions.

He shook his head almost imperceptivity deciding it is preferable letting Spock and Kirk have their fun now rather than tossing them out of his quarters and guaranteeing their interruption of a future more intimate moment as well as granting them planning time for maximizing the embarrassment caused by that intrusion.

Kirk passed out the drinks to the group along with mineral water for Spock. Sinking into the chair closest to me and crossing his legs he remarked, "I regret we haven't had a chance to get to know one another before now, how are you settling in?"

I reply, "Good. Thank you, sir."

"Formality isn't necessary in here." Kirk assured in a friendly tone. His charming smile was back. "We're all off duty and in personal quarters. Call me Jim. After all, this," he paused for a fraction of a second then continued emphasizing the next word, "is a date."

Brow creasing slightly with amusement I elected not to voice the question, With all three of you?

From the corner of the room, McCoy rolled his eyes.

"Lieutenant, I add my felicitations as well. Your colleagues speak highly of your work," Spock said graciously.

Before I can thank the first officer, Kirk, his smile morphing into a mischievous Grinch-like smirk, asks with an air of innocence, "So what do ya think of our boy here?" He tilted his head in the direction of McCoy who is now standing rigidly with arms crossed and a thunderous expression on his face.

"Excuse me?" My voice slid to the higher end of my vocal range.

"Our suave CMO and his," Kirk air quoted the next two words, "southern gentleman approach? Which … hmmm … what is an appropriate metaphor?"

Spock helpfully chimed in, "Advances slower than molasses pours on a cold day?"

Kirks nodded. "Exactly, well done Spock."

Without hurry, I turned to McCoy, fixing him with a faintly seductive smile as if no others are present in the room, "I like it … and him … very much."

Queue the teenage antics and teasing, McCoy thought and expected. The intercom interrupts, "… team … report to …"

I reluctantly stand. "That's me." Again proceeding as if alone with the physician I walk to McCoy and brush his lips with a chaste kiss. "Raincheck?"

"Absolutely."

Turning to the others I added before leaving, "Sirs."

Once the doors have swished closed following my exit, Kirk sipped his drink and shook his head.

Spock spoke for all, "This is unfortunate."

McCoy narrowed his eyes. "Which of you arranged this little ol' hiccup?"

Kirk turned to Spock. "Is it my imagination or does his southern drawl get more pronounced when he is riled?

Spock replied, "Invariably. I have not taken sufficient time for observation nor previously calculated the frequency therefore I may only estimate this speech pattern as well as his expanded use of regional slag accompanies the doctor's peeved emotional state 96.781250 percent of the time."

"Oh good grief," McCoy mumbled.

Kirk cocked an eyebrow.

Spock explained, "A phrase used in the Peanuts cartoon, written and illustrated by Charles M. Schulz in the second half of the 20th century. It expresses dismay, alarm, or other negative sentiments. At times, this phrase is directed at the principal character Charlie Brown who is, often, misunderstood and unappreciated by his peers. Mr. Schulz was considered one of the greatest cartoonists of his era and influenced …"

"Can it Wikipedia," McCoy interrupted. "I repeat who arranged this little stunt? Come on y'all, spill it!"

"I want you to get laid." Kirk reminded.

"Why should I cascade my beverage onto the floor?" Spock asked.

McCoy stabbed a finger in Kirk's direction. "Your behavior suggests otherwise." He turned and glared at the Vulcan. "Spock, I don't buy your 'confusion with human idioms' act. And neither of you answered the question. So who did this?"

"Truly Doctor, and I believe I speak for the Captain as well, no premeditation occurred. The interruption is … regrettable as I too desire a rewarding and fortunate conclusion for you in your recreational pursuit of the lieutenant."

"Ditto," Kirk chimed in. "Cheer up. After all you weren't expecting the ultimate happy ending this soon. Your plans can easily slide a day. I'll issue a ship-wide decree tomorrow the CMO is not to be disturbed and assign the lieutenant in question to an all-night duty shift under your direction." He chuckled. "Under … get it?

Swearing McCoy muttered, "I knew at some point during the evening you would lapse into your teenage persona."

"An attempt to lighten the mood. You're all gloomy," Kirk retorted.

McCoy scowled.

"Yep, there's the curmudgeonly physician we all know and love," Kirk teased with a grin. He glanced at the table. "It is a shame to waste one of chef's special meals …"

"I concur," Spock steepled his fingers as if examining the situation and its facts. "Chef typically prepares more food than is needed for meeting adequate nutritional requirements. And waste is illogical. If we dined together, privately here in the doctor's quarters, the three of us can finish the crew evaluations."

Kirk brought his hands together with a loud clap. "That settles it. Spock, ask Chef to bring an additional place setting."

McCoy shook his head vigorously. "No … no… no. I'm not sharing … that is I'm not spending the entire evening with the two of you. Make yourselves a doggy bag."

Ignoring the physician's protest, Kirk proceeded to the table and pulled out a chair. He beckoned to McCoy. "Come on Bones, sit. Oh and Spock, I doubt the good doctor planned a vegetarian meal, best ask Chef to whip something up for you." Noticing McCoy remained in the corner, standing with his arms tightly folded across his chest, frowning with a pout any two-year old in the middle of a tantrum would covet, Kirk amended, "I could make that an order." He patted the back of the chair.

"Oh fine," McCoy retorted and took the offered seat. Kirk pushed the chair towards the table as the doctor sat.

"Though …" Kirk began and then flashed a grin at Spock. "As those evaluations are not urgent, our time tonight can be put to better use." Kirk slapped McCoy on the back. "We'll be your pretend dates."

"An excellent suggestion Jim," Spock agreed with a nod as he claimed a seat at the table to the right of McCoy.

Kirk continued, "First lesson. Regardless of gender, always seat your date. Though I'd bet that one's already covered in the Southern Gentlemen's Dating Handbook."

"When have you ever made it to dinner with a date?" McCoy asked Kirk in a sarcastic tone.

Kirk rubbed his chin, "Surely I must have at least once …"

McCoy cleared his throat. "Moving on." He waved his arms, "The two of you conveniently ignore I'm the only one among us who has married. Who has successfully courted a partner and wooed them to 'I do'."

Kirk sat opposite McCoy. "Ah … well … okay … considering I met you on day five of a weeklong drinking binge after your divorce, that we met on the afternoon of the morning you impulsively walked into the local Starfleet recruiting office and joined up … and for the life of me I'll never understand why you came to Iowa for bar crawl … do you truly believe highlighting your marriage is the best comeback … sorry Bones, I didn't catch that …"

McCoy resorted to a physical gesture.

Spock began to interpret, "I am fluent in America Sign Language and our colleague's signed phrase means …"

Chuckling Kirk interjected, "Pretty sure I can sort that one out on my own."

"Doctor," Spock said in a soothing tone of voice, "all opportunities to increase one's skills, in any area, should be embraced."

Dropping his head into his hands, knowing going with the tide rather than fighting it is the fastest, the only way for achieving a modicum of peace, quiet and privacy, McCoy acquiesced, "Just get it over with."

"A sensible choice," Spock responded.

McCoy looked up. "And let me make one thing very clear. Under no circumstances will there be a kiss at the end of the evening for either of you."