Summary: McCoy counsels Kirk on making friends.
Disclaimer: Star Trek is the property of Paramount, Viacom, Bad Robot…many people who are not me.
Author’s Note: This is for Trekchic, who wanted a story about Kirk, McCoy and Spock and friendship.
Takes place one week into Kirk’s tenure as captain of the Enterprise.
How To Win Friends And Influence People
By Rocky
Kirk looked up from his padd with an annoyed expression as McCoy slid into the seat next to him in the crew Recreation Lounge. “Bones,” he said pleasantly enough while continuing to exude ‘go away and don’t bother me’ vibes.
“Captain,” said McCoy. He waited for a second or two. “What’s that you’re reading?”
“Ship’s business,” Kirk said shortly, clearly hoping McCoy would get the hint and leave him alone.
“Ship’s business,” McCoy repeated. “What kind of business?” He tried to get hold of the padd to get a glimpse of the subject line.
Kirk wrestled it out of his grasp. “As in, business of the ship. You have no idea how much paperwork goes into running a vessel this size.”
“You mean being captain isn’t just hatching hare-brained plots and then carrying them out, risking life and limb—not just yours, but everyone else’s on board as well—in the process?” McCoy attempted once more to make a grab for the padd. “What’re you reading, anyway? A report about the ship’s waste extraction systems? How to make the food synthesizers turn out something that resembles actual food?”
“Give that back—“ Kirk released his hold with little grace, perhaps realizing a bit late that it was beneath his dignity for the ship’s captain to be seen fighting over a padd in full view of the rest of the off-duty crew.
McCoy immediately snatched it up. “Got it! What’s this—Dale Carnegie? ‘How to win friends and influence people’? What is this?”
“Will you keep it down, Bones?” Kirk hissed.
McCoy tried to lower his voice. “Seriously, Jim, what are you reading this for?”
“You’re the doctor, Bones. Surely you can figure it out.”
“I’m a doctor, not a psychiatrist.”
“But you dabble in both physical medicine and psychiatry—at least until Starfleet Medical makes good on its threat to one day install full-time shrinks, er, counselors on board.”
Both men shuddered as they contemplated the prospect.
“So, you wanna tell me why you’re sitting here, one week into being captain of the flagship of the ‘Fleet, reading this tripe?” McCoy said in his best ‘good ol’ boy’ voice.
Kirk muttered something inaudible.
“Speak up, Jim, I didn’t hear you.”
“I want to know how to make friends.”
“You what?” McCoy was torn between laughing and hooting in disbelief. Fortunately, he got a good look at Kirk’s face and stifled his amusement. “Whatever for?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” At McCoy’s blank look, Kirk went on. “I need some help!”
“In making friends?'”
Kirk nodded.
“Forgive me for saying this, Jim, but are you sure? Have you ever needed help before?”
Kirk nodded once more. “I haven’t always been…let’s put it this way, Bones. I know I have been a little difficult in the past in terms of relating to my peers…”
“You mean you’ve been a bit of an asshole on occasion.”
Kirk looked for a moment as if he was going to object to McCoy’s bluntness, but then he sighed. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“But on the other hand, you do have friends! Uh, at the Academy, there was…” McCoy’s words trailed off as he tried to come up with some names. “Uh, let’s see, there was, most recently…”
“Gaila.”
“Yes! The Orion girl! And there was also Janice, and uh, the other Janice, and Tania and Ruth and…”
Kirk rolled his eyes. “Notice anything about all those names, Bones?”
“Uh, they’re female?”
“Exactly.”
“So you have a lot of women friends.” McCoy glanced around and noticed Uhura and Spock sitting together in a corner. “And don’t forget Uhura.”
Kirk grimaced. “I wouldn’t exactly call her a friend.”
“But she does respect you.”
“Before the Battle of Vulcan, I would’ve said, no, she doesn’t. Now…maybe,” Kirk said. “Maybe I’m getting there.”
A light went off in McCoy’s mind. “Speaking of the crew, there’s Sulu, and Chekov, not to mention Scotty and that weird little friend of his.”
“Keenser. His name is Keenser.”
“See?” said McCoy triumphantly. “You’ve got lots of friends! And what about me, or don’t I count?”
“You don’t count, Bones.”
McCoy wasn’t sure to if he should be offended. “Why not?”
“Because we’ve been friends for years already.”
“Despite your charming manner.”
“Exactly. It’s kind of hard not to be friends with someone who doesn’t object when the first thing you say to them is that you might puke on them.”
Hearkening back to their first meeting gave McCoy another idea. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal flask. “Here, try this.”
Kirk regarded it with deep suspicion. “What is it?”
“It’s not from
Scotty, if that’s what you mean.” McCoy made a face. “His
latest batch of hootch was…green.”
“Green?”
“Green,” McCoy said firmly. “Just try this. Careful, don’t let anyone see.”
Kirk’s expression didn’t become any more trusting but he carefully lifted the flask and took a swig. “Holy—“
“Shh!” McCoy whispered urgently. “Keep your voice down! You don’t want the entire room finding out about this.”
“What is this? This stuff is amazing!” Kirk took another swallow. “This isn’t Saurian brandy, is it?”
“Your discerning palate never ceases to amaze me,” McCoy said. “No, it isn’t Saurian brandy.”
“Then what is it?”
“Romulan
ale.”
“Romulan—“
“Will you keep your voice down?” McCoy hissed. “First of all, it’s a contraband substance whose possession is a class A felony. And second, I don’t have enough to share with everyone here.”
“How on earth did you get your hands on Romulan ale?” Kirk asked in a loud whisper.
“I have my ways.” McCoy shrugged. “After the recent events, certain individuals inside the Romulan Star Empire wanted to make it very clear that they do not share Nero’s ill will toward the Federation, or Earth in particular, and as a token of their friendship, they were persuaded to part with a small amount—a very small amount—of uh, liquid goodwill.”
Kirk took another drink. “I see.”
“No, you don’t, but that’s OK. You looked like you needed a little pick-me-up.”
Kirk reached for the flask again, but McCoy swatted his hand away.
“I’d say you were plenty picked up by now, Captain. Any more and we’d have to scrape you off the ceiling in time for your next duty shift!”
“All right, all right, you’ve made your point,” Kirk said as he picked up his padd once more.
“So what’s really eating you, Jim? We’ve gone through the list—you’ve got a lot of lady friends, you’re rapidly gaining the respect of your bridge officers and the rest of the crew, you got a commendation not to mention command of the flagship for your dealing with Nero and managing to save Captain—I mean, Admiral Pike. What more do you want?”
Kirk muttered something inaudible once more.
“What’s that, Jim? I didn’t hear you.”
“Spock.”
“Spock?” McCoy took another quick glimpse around the room. Spock and Uhura were still sitting in their corner, but now Spock had produced a musical instrument—looked like some Vulcan version of a lyre, from what McCoy could tell—and was tuning it, to Uhura’s rapt attention. “What about him?”
“He doesn’t like me.”
“He doesn’t like anyone, Jim. He’s a Vulcan.” Out of the corner of his eye, McCoy saw Spock give the lyre to Uhura and place his hands over hers, showing her how to use the instrument. “Well, he doesn’t like most people at any rate.”
“He doesn’t like me.”
“Well, considering that the first time you met he was accusing you of cheating on his test—which he was 100% correct about, by the way.” McCoy raised his voice to be heard over Kirk’s protests. “Then flash forward a couple of hours when you barged on to the bridge, told him and Pike exactly what they were doing wrong, and had the temerity to be proven right.”
“Uhura helped with that one, as she was the one who decoded the Klingon—“
“And then after the destruction of his planet,” McCoy said, going on, “You argued publicly with him, defied his orders as captain, and got knocked out and thrown off the ship. And then when you managed to get back on board—and I still don’t understand how such a thing was possible but I guess I’ll have to ask Scotty if I really want to know—you picked yet another fight with Spock, and after he finished choking you, you got him to relieve himself of duty! And you took over as acting captain.” He took a long look at Kirk. “And you honestly expect him to like you?”
“He’s supposed to be my friend.”
“He’s what? According to who?”
“He’s supposed to be my friend,” Kirk said once again. “That’s what he himself told me. The older Spock, I mean, the one I met on Delta Vega.”
McCoy closed his eyes briefly. “You’re talking about the guy who claimed to be a time-traveling, older version, of our Spock? Jim—“
“It was practically the first thing he said to me. ‘I am and always shall be your friend.’” Kirk looked despondent. “Only, he’s not. And I’ve screwed things up so much I don’t think he ever will be.”
McCoy could have made several replies to that. About how Spock (the younger one) obviously trusted Kirk enough to go off and risk his life with him on board Nero’s ship and whether the two of them liked each other or not, they had still been successful in stopping Nero, rescuing Pike and saving Earth for good measure. How Spock had requested to be assigned as first officer on board the Enterprise once Kirk was officially made captain. How they had only been space-borne for a week and these things always took time. How he shouldn’t necessarily take the word of someone who had lived in an entirely different reality that he and Spock were meant to be the best of friends…but he said none of this. Instead, he sighed. “Jim, this isn’t the first time in your life you’ve tried to make friends with someone, right? What do you usually do?”
“Offer to buy him a drink or two, get drunk together and end up carrying each other home.”
“OK, scratch that. Won’t work for a Vulcan. What else?”
“Uh, other than buying a drink?”
McCoy mentally counted to ten. “Jim, you have to have ways to bond with someone other than over liquor. How did we become friends?”
“After you threatened to puke on me, you offered me a drink.”
“Right,” McCoy said hastily.
“And just now to show your friendship, you offered me some Romulan—“
“All right!” McCoy said. “Uh, how do you pick up women?”
“I don’t think that would apply here, Bones.”
“I don’t mean you should try to get Spock into bed with you, just how do you go about cozying up to someone you want to get to know better?”
“You mean other than buying them a drink?”
“Will you stop with the alcoholic references already?” McCoy said exasperatedly. “Yes, I mean how do you normally get to know someone?”
“Try to find mutual interests, talk about things we have in common in our pasts…”
McCoy nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean! So, what do you and Spock have in common?”
“Other than the fact that I cheated on his test?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Or
the fact that both of us lost a parent due to Nero’s vendetta?”
McCoy said, “How about the fact that both of you are bright, if stubborn, individuals, who have an uncanny knack for finding unorthodox solutions to problems?”
Kirk was silent.
“Come on, Jim, it’s not rocket science or even brain surgery. Why don’t you invite Spock over, and uh, I don’t know, offer to play him a game of chess?”
“Chess?”
“I know you’re not as dumb as you sometimes like to pretend, Jim. Surely you know how to play chess. And look at that, there’s a multi-dimension board right over here.” McCoy pointed at the next table, then got up and retrieved it himself. “Just do it, Jim.”
“He looks kind of busy right now,” Kirk protested.
McCoy followed his look. Uhura was playing the lyre now and singing, surrounded by a group of admirers. He could just make out the chorus of “Beyond Antares.” Spock had moved to the edge of the circle, a faint look of proud approval on his face. “Go ahead and ask him anyway.”
“Spock,” Kirk called out softly. Immediately, the Vulcan turned in their direction.
“You called, Captain?”
“Uh, yes.” Kirk looked at McCoy, who had risen and gave him an encouraging nod. “I was wondering, as both of us are still off duty, if you would be interested in playing a game of chess with me?”
Spock’s face did not light up, but then again McCoy would have been very surprised if it had. “I was not aware you played chess, sir.”
Kirk grinned. “I’m a man of many hidden talents, Mr. Spock. Would you like to be white?”
McCoy moved away then, and headed toward the door. He made sure that he still had his flask, once more concealed in his pocket. And Kirk’s padd. He glanced back at the two heads bent over the chess board. “Yes,” he said aloud to himself, “I think this may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
FINIS