Title: Sound Medical Practice
Warning: Original Aliens. Well, it's Trek.
Saving a civilisation was awesome. Medals were awesome. Receiving the gratitude of twins - one boy, one girl - with four arms each who insisted on calling him "Captain" even in bed was hella awesome.
Opera was not awesome.
Jim put a finger in his collar and tugged, wondering if he could actually render himself unconscious and get a medical evacuation.
"Don't even think about it," Bones breathed in his ear, and he released the collar and straightened, as the dignitaries in the box across the opera house waved their ornate glasses at him.
"It's not even translated," Jim protested. On stage, the prima donna was holding some sort of crown with her lower arms and rhythmically raising and lowering her upper ones. The dude in front of her was dying or swimming or something that took a lot of artistic writhing and long, long, long singing.
"He’s praising the sweet agonies of giving birth,” Uhura said, through a perfect smile that said how happy she was to be here with the Jillapians and their lovely culture. Her lips weren’t even moving! “Shut up and enjoy the spoils of victory. Captain.”
“Someone just volunteered for two weeks on gamma shift.”
“You can take it, Jim,” Bones said, and snagged the program from his lap. Jim would have protested, except he’d already read it four times. “It says here that it’s only… oh, three more hours. Well, that’s just great.”
"Shhh," Chekov hissed. "Is best part!"
Jim stared at him. The Russian kid was waving a finger in time with the music, eyes crinkled up at the corners. The prima donna put the crown on the dude’s head and stepped back, and Chekov let out an excited breath that was almost a squeak.
“On the other hand, Captain,” Bones said, after the uncomfortable pause. “You do appear to be lethargic. That’s a symptom for a number of fatal and contagious conditions.”
Jim straightened, and then slumped. “What do you recommend, Doctor McCoy?”
“Sound medical practice would suggest a check-up, sir.”
Jim sighed. Nobly. “Well, I hate to leave this exciting display of musical prowess, but medical emergencies take priority. Please make my apologies to the Jillapians, Lieutenant Uhura.”
“I will kill you both,” Uhura promised through her pretty, pretty smile.
“Something else to look forward to,” Jim said. “Mr. Scott? Two to beam up.”