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“Kiss me, Wilson!” breathed Kirk, wide-eyed in admiration. A woman nearby half-turned to look at him and frowned, but quickly averted her eyes again and continued to peer studiously at the carefully preserved twentieth-century boxes of biscuits which were displayed on the other side of the bulkhead, visible through the open door near where they were standing, reading information plaques.
Predictably, Spock raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat taken aback by Kirk’s passionate outburst. “I do not believe that an oral display of affection would be appropriate in this public setting,” he chided. “In any case, my name is ‘Spock’, as you are surely aware – not ‘Wilson’.” the vulcan added, perturbed by the possibility that Kirk had called out the wrong name.
Stepping back from the display to gaze at his spouse good-naturedly, Kirk couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “I know your name is Spock, Spock” he teased, “we’ve been married twenty years! If I didn’t know by now... “.
He trailed off, distracted, and they enjoyed a long and indulgent moment of eye contact. When they began to speak again their voices were a shade quieter, a tone lower; the intimacy of their long association was manifest in every single interaction, whether they were conscious of it or not, and whether any passers-by could recognise it for what it was, or not.
Brown eyes hypnotic, Spock murmured: “That is reassuring. However, I must confess that I do not understand the meaning of your expostulation.”
Kirk’s hazel eyes glimmered in return as he replied: “’Kiss me, Wilson’ you mean? Just a little joke.”
One slanted eyebrow rose inquisitively. “Explain.”
“Well,” began Kirk, grinning, “Have you heard of Admiral Nelson?”.
Spock nodded in assent.
“Shortly before he died, he asked his Flag Captain to kiss him.”
“Hardy?” supplied Spock.
“Exactly.” assented Kirk. “’Kiss me, Hardy!’ he said.”
“I see,” nodded Spock, frowning minutely. “I believe the phrase was in fact: ‘Kismet, Hardy!’.” he opined.
“No, it wasn’t!” exclaimed Kirk agitatedly. “That’s a myth! The admiral asked his captain to kiss him - people may have tried to obscure that fact since then, but it’s the truth. It’s just a shame that in later times society became uncomfortable with homoerotic displays. And it took a long time for that to disappear again.” he added.
“Fascinating.” murmured Spock, showing no sign of being put out by having his factoid discredited. “But there was no definite sign of an erotic relationship between the two men?” he wondered.
“No,” answered Kirk. “It was a platonic relationship, although a deep one – not sexual at all. Unlike some admirals and captains I could mention... “. His handsome face broke into a suggestive smile which was not lost on Spock.
“Indeed.” the vulcan responded in a sultry undertone. After a long pause in which the two men enjoyed their private joke, he continued: “Gratified for your clarification though I am, it does not fully explain your statement ‘Kiss me, Wilson. As you say, the phrase was attributed to Horatio Nelson, not Robert Falcon Scott. Surely you do not mean to imply that there was a romantic relationship between the captain of the RRS Discovery- ”
“Terra Nova” interjected Kirk, “It was the Terra Nova expedition when they met their fate!” The human couldn’t quite manage to hide his shiver when he thought of the terrible suffering those men endured before meeting their deaths; stories of valiant explorers and pioneers from olden times never failed to stir his soul and imagination.
“My apologies,” Spock said, accepting the correction. “You do not mean to imply a romantic relationship between the captain of the Terra Nova and his ship’s surgeon?”. He looked incredulous at his own suggestion.
Kirk pursed his lips, considering. “No,” he replied, head tilted to one side, rubbing his chin. “But when the bodies were found, Scott apparently had his arm round Wilson. They’d died like that. And he wrote in his diary that Wilson was the finest character he’d ever met. They obviously had some sort of close relationship.”
“Indeed.” murmured Spock, face softened by pathos. “Friendship and camaraderie are forged by trial and adversity.”, he commented.
“Exactly.” nodded Kirk. “We know that better than most. Me and you, and Bones. And I’ll tell you something, Spock- ” he continued.
“Yes?” questioned the vulcan.
“And I’m not afraid to admit it!” Kirk went on.
“Tell me what, Jim?” probed Spock, eyes twinkling with amusement.
“I’m getting to it, Spock!” snickered Kirk.
Then he was serious again. “What I mean,” he explained, “is that if I were trapped on some frozen wasteland of a planet with you, or Bones, and we were dying... I would not be ashamed to die with my arms round either or you. Civilians may never know or understand the hardships and the intensity of the terrors we face, and the emotions they can drive men to – but we know, and it’s something incredible, inexplicable... “
He paused dramatically.
“But here, on this ship... those men must have felt it. Doesn’t it stir your soul, Spock?” he cried, his voice rising to a stirring finish.
Spock regarded him, impressed as ever with his commanding officer’s penchant for speeches. “It does.” he answered quietly. Privately, Spock felt that the emotional charge which he felt in standing here on this wooden deck was more vicarious than actual, but nevertheless – he found the exhibition quite fascinating, inspiring, and dare he admit it, even moving.
Kirk, meanwhile, was deflating back to his guise of a mere mortal, and looking around. “Are we done here, do you think?” he wondered.
“I believe so.” confirmed Spock. “Let us continue to the next display.” he suggested.
“Good idea,” agreed Kirk. “Where’s Bones?”
They found the good doctor a little further on through the museum ship, inspecting the galley. He looked up as they entered, face characteristically stormy.
“Ah, Jim – just who I wanted to see! Look at this!“ - he gestured towards a wooden storage crate which was stowed halfway up a stacked mass of others of its kind, and indicated the label which was printed in faded black ink on the side. “Au-ber-gine...” he read aloud, falteringly. “Aubergine!” he said again, more confidently. “You like your food, don’t you Jimmy-boy? Mind enlightening me what the hell an aubergine is when it’s at home?” he groused.
Kirk frowned, recognising the barbed comment about his excess weight. However, he was a grown up – he could take it. It was only Bones, after all...
“No idea.” he grumbled. “Spock?. He turned to the vulcan inquisitively.
“Uncertain, Jim.” Spock answered. “Perhaps zucchini?”
Kirk shook his head. “No, that’s courgette. Damn all these stupid names – why can’t the Scots speak English?” he joked, thinking of all the amusing misunderstandings and cases of lost-in-translation which they’d had during their time in Dundee. He would have fun telling Scotty all about it when they met up in the ‘pub’ later.
“In that case,” Spock replied, “I must confess to my ignorance. However:” - he whipped a smartcomm out of the pocket on his thick, padded jacket - “I shall endeavour to find out immediately.”.
“Good idea.” commented Kirk, as Spock proceeded to tap and prod at his mobile device. Seconds later, he announced: “Eggplant.”.
“Eggplant?” spluttered McCoy incredulously. “They took one box of eggplant to the Antarctic? Look at these,” he indicated: “Twenty boxes of oranges, fifty boxes of tea, thirty of sugar, ten of marmalade and I don’t even know what else they’ve got through there- “ he waved a hand towards a nearby storage compartment – “and one, solitary, box of eggplant? I don’t understand this!” he railed.
Kirk chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m sure it’s full of vitamins.” he teased. “Come on, we’re nearly finished looking round the ship – we can go for a drink soon. That’ll cheer you up, Bones!”.
“Damn right. I could do with a scotch!” exclaimed the doctor.
“Now Bones,” Kirk tutted, amused. “They don’t call it scotch here! All whisky is scotch here, unless proven otherwise – and if it is, drink it at your peril!”.
McCoy rolled his eyes, and Spock merely looked baffled at the two humans’ continual (at least it seemed, to him) desire to become inebriated.