Title: Under the Influence
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Characters: Kirk, Spock, McCoy
Summary: Kirk under the influence was a sight to behold. Here were three of those instances.
A/N: Apparently I’ve been writing too much McSpirk lately, so have some Triumvirate fic instead. Also, I make no apologies for the sheer crack quality of this.

#1
“He’s singing.”

“Doctor, I fail to understand why you consider this event to be of significance, particularly in the context that you must contact the ship.”

“I’m not contacting the ship, you green-blooded hobgoblin—I’m contacting you!”

There came a pause over the open comm line. Then “I still fail to understand why—”

“Oh shut it, Spock, and get down here! He’s—damn it, Jim, I told you not to climb on that!—going to cause on a very embarrassing incident for the Federation in about half a minute.”

“Provide your coordinates. I will beam directly to your location.”

“Thank you.”

The Vulcan ended the communication. When he arrived at the bar where Kirk and a group of overworked crewmen had chosen to spend their off-duty hours, he found it populated by most of the beings in the space port. At the center of their attention was indeed Jim Kirk, both inebriated and enjoying himself. He was, Spock determined, attempting to perform magic tricks while vocally composing his own stage music. McCoy lingered next to him, holding firmly onto one of the man’s ankles in case Kirk either tried to wander off or toppled from the table he stood on.

Leonard caught the Vulcan’s eye and sent him a look which Spock had long ago learned to interpret as a mixture of gratitude, relief, and exasperation. The Vulcan lifted an eyebrow in return.

McCoy would have scowled, then, per the typical sequence of events which comprised the majority of their social interactions if at that moment Jim had not flung out his arms as a grand gesture to some concluded act and overbalanced himself as well as the table.

Vulcans are extremely fast in a crisis, the witnesses would later say, which is a good thing when there are wayward humans about.

#2
Jim had this really amazing wonderful fantastical feeling.

“That’s the painkillers talking, kid.”

No, it wasn’t, Bones. This really amazing wonderful fantastical feeling was his. He felt so good, so happy and carefree, that he was going to share it with the next person he saw.

Just then the Sickbay doors slid open to admit a newcomer.

Someone gasped, “Dr. McCoy, the captain!”

“Oh dear god… Jim, where are you… Jim, no!“

“Spock,” every person in the med bay heard this very enthusiastic declaration, “I have happy feelings!”

“Yes, Captain,” replied the Vulcan Commander, who—once he realized he could not extricate himself from his superior’s arms—reached around behind Jim and nerve-pinched him.

McCoy managed to catch the slumping body before it hit the floor.

“Doctor, in the future it would be wise to restrain the patient once you administer a medication which will impair his judgment.”

The CMO snorted. “Noted, Mr. Spock.”

Then he grabbed their unconscious captain under the arms in order to lift him, another doctor took a hold of the man’s legs, and together they carried Kirk back to bed.

#3
“Doctor, I find this concerning.”

“You’re not helping, Spock. Jim, can you hear us? Jim?”

“He has not spoken or moved since you began your attempt to elicit a response from him approximately fifteen point three-nine minutes ago. However I find it most troubling that he has yet to blink.”

“I’m aware of that! I’m trying my best here, okay? Now stop hovering.”

“We must assume that between the time he disappeared and when the landing party located him, he was compromised.”

McCoy turned to thump the Vulcan on the arm with his tricorder. “Who’s the doctor here?” he demanded. “If I want your opinion, Mr. Spock, I’ll ask for it!”

“Your violent action was quite unnecessary, Doctor.”

“You think that was violent? I’ll show you violent!”

“And I would be forced to reprimand you.”

“Why you—”

Jim, who had impressed upon every person and medical device present that he was in a catatonic state, opened his mouth and made a sound.

Both men immediately ceased their argument and moved toward him. “Jim?” Leonard said at the same time Spock questioned, “Captain?”

Jim opened his mouth again. “Ribbit.”

Frowning, the doctor put his hands on either side of Jim’s throat to determine why it moved so oddly.

“Ribbit.”

“I don’t think he has the hiccups.”

“If I am not mistaken,” Spock remarked in a strange voice, “that is the sound of a… frog.”

Jim blinked at them. “Ribbit. Ribbit-ribbit.“

Leonard looked horrified.

“Riii-bbit.“

No amount of shaking, fussing, or light face-slapping spurred Kirk to act more human. The doctor re-performed all of his tests and didn’t even complain when Spock requested he run some of them a third time. After two hours of lab work and the near-constant sound of ribbiting in their ears, they sent a landing party back to the surface of the planet to look for answers there. Spock wanted to lead the research team but Leonard outright refused to let him leave Sickbay, saying if the CMO had to endure a frog as a captain then so did the First Officer—and Lord forbid if the man started hopping around the bay! Somebody had to help Leonard manage the situation.

So Spock stayed, and they tirelessly brainstormed theories and possible cures. Then Mr. Scott returned ahead of the party and gave them the grave news:

“It was a witch.”

“A what-now?”

“A witch, Dr. McCoy—and a mean one at that! Apparently the Capt’n accidentally stunned one of her chickens, and now he’s under a curse.”

Leonard opened and closed his mouth in shock until he found his voice to exclaim, “What in blazes kind of planet is it?”

“As Mr. Scott suggested, Doctor, it is a hostile one. Will she agree to…” Spock hesitated as if speaking the next words went against all Vulcan logic. “…remove the curse?”

“She says she can’t.”

“Or won’t,” added the doctor darkly.

“It’s got to resolve itself?” Scotty quoted at them cryptically.

“Great—just great. I guess we’ll make him a home on one of Sulu’s lily pads and feed him flies!”

“Now is not the time to indulge in hysteria, Doctor.”

“Says the only other person on this ship who might be kin to a cold-blooded amphibian!”

Spock took a hold of Leonard’s arm. “Mr. Scott, if you will excuse us.”

“Aye. I’ll, um, be on the bridge if ye need me.” The engineer hardly needed the dismissal and left the med bay in a hurry. Clearly witches, frog-curses, and hysterical doctors were not within his realm of expertise.

Spock removed the CMO to his office where they had some privacy to talk.

Leonard had calmed himself by then. “Sorry, Spock,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Your apology is accepted. We must focus on finding a solution.”

Leonard rubbed a hand over his face. “But what if we can’t fix this?”

“We can,” Spock said firmly. “Will you accompany me to the surface, or will you remain with Jim?”

“I’m useless here, so the planet it is.”

The witch laughed at them. It wasn’t even an evil cackle, just your everyday good-natured belly laugh.

“This isn’t funny!” Leonard told her. “You can’t just make a man think he’s a frog when you feel like it!”

“Ribbit,” she said and grinned.

“What must we do?” Spock pressed her for the third time.

“It will resolve itself.”

Like a man driven beyond endurance, Leonard went after her—or tried to. Spock wisely blocked his path.

“Thank you for speaking with us,” the Vulcan told the witch in a serious tone. “We may return at a later time to discuss the matter with you.”

The witch shrugged and disappeared back into her unsightly cottage. It was, the Starfleet officers had surmised, made of feathers and animal bones.

“You can’t give up!” Leonard said to Spock.

“I have no intention of doing so,” the Vulcan replied.

“The only thing I can think of,” said a weary and grim-faced Leonard one day later, “is the fairy tale about the prince who became a frog.”

Spock said nothing.

Leonard grumped, “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not my fairy tale.”

They turned as one to watch Jim, who was croaking a little less frequently but had taken to squatting on the edge of his bed and staring with an eerie wide-eyed-ness at the medical staff.

“A princess is supposed to kiss him to turn him back into a prince.”

“Let us move on,” murmured the Vulcan.

“Agreed.”

Moving on proved futile when they had no other ideas.

“I don’t know any princesses,” said Leonard.

“This is the twenty-third century. It could be a prince,” suggested Chekov.

“Mr. Spock’s from the House of Surak,” Sulu pointed out. “Isn’t that like Vulcan royalty?”

Because Spock was not human and therefore had better control of his reactions, Scotty looked embarrassed on his behalf.

Uhura sighed, muttering something like only Kirk. Much more loudly, she said, “There are over four hundred people on this ship. In a situation like this, there is only one thing we can do.” Her mouth began to curve. “We set up a Kiss the Captain booth.”

Jim finished his third cup of water, looking greatly relieved to feel human again. As he set the cup down and ran his fingers through his hair, he asked, “So how did you undo it?”

Leonard plucked the cup from the tray and handed it off to a nurse. “Not important.”

“Bones, how is that not important? I was a frog. I wanted to… you know what, never mind. I have no desire to tell you of the kinds of things I wanted to do. I am asking in case some other cranky lady voodoos me again. How do I undo it?”

Leonard spoke quietly to himself under his breath and tensely rearranged the remaining items on the tray.

“Bones!”

“If you’re a frog, you can’t undo it yourself.”

“Fine—what if you’re the frog,” Jim countered, becoming irritated.

“Then leave me as a frog!” the doctor snapped back and spun away.

Jim pushed back the covers and went after him. He caught McCoy by the arm. “Enough, Bones,” he warned him. “I know we’ve been through some crazy things this last year but—”

“I’d say at least half of those things were your fault.”

Jim ignored that and ordered, “Tell me.”

Leonard blew out a breath, then another. “Fine. Just remember that you asked.” His gaze dropped to Jim’s hand.

Jim let him go.

“We thought if there was a witch and you were a frog, then the curse was patterned after a fairy tale.”

Jim’s eyebrows drew together just briefly before a light dawned in his eyes. “You didn’t!” he said. “Who kissed me?”

Leonard turned red. “Everybody.”

Jim slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

“Don’t look like that, kid. We kept it chaste.”

“Everybody?” repeated Kirk, dragging his hand reluctantly away from his face.

The doctor patted his shoulder. “Sorry, Jim.”

“So… who, uh, I mean, who…”

“It didn’t work.”

Jim stared at him.

“Suffice to say,” Leonard went on, “when it did not work, we were all very upset, and most of us deeply embarrassed.”

“Bones, I’m—wait, kissing me is not traumatic!”

“I guess you’ve never kissed yourself then.” Leonard huffed and said, “That’s not the point anyway. As I was saying, we weren’t in the best of moods so we went down to the planet and stole all the chickens.”

“Stole the… what?”

“The witch’s chickens. We took them, and after that she was willing to make a deal to get them back.” Leonard drew back a sleeve of his tunic to reveal healing welts on his arm. “They were mean little squawkers, too, but apparently Scotty’s the best chicken-wrangler on the ship.” The man harrumphed then made a barely concealed snicker. “And Spock… I’ll show you a picture later. Gives new meaning to the hens come home to roost… on a Vulcan.”

Jim crossed his arms and tried to appear angry but it was difficult for him. “You bartered for my return with chickens.”

“Yeah, we did.”

He broke into a smile and slapped his friend’s back. “Bones, I don’t know why you thought you couldn’t tell me this!” Even as Jim straightened his spine, he was obviously relieved. “I have a lot to thank you guys for, including looking after my ship. Speaking of, is Spock on the bridge? I want to talk to him. We need to break orbit and—”

“Jim,” Leonard interrupted him, making a face. “That’s… what I wasn’t so keen on telling you, actually.”

“What?”

“Spock,” the doctor said, sighing. Then without another word he gently led his captain to another area of Sickbay comprised of private examination rooms.

Spock stood in the corner of one of them. When the two men entered, he looked at them and clucked.

“Spock?” Jim said, confused.

Leonard sighed again. “Brokering the deal was one thing. Afterwards she got her revenge on us.”

“You don’t mean… Spock is…”

“…a chicken.”

The Vulcan blinked placidly at Kirk and McCoy. Then he clucked again.

“Oh hell,” Jim said, and his doctor friend echoed the sentiment.

-Fini

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