The BLTS Archive - Brown Sugar
by T'Maia (T_Maia@altavista.com)

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I have a headache.

The wake up-call from the computer is merciless. Somehow I manage to
get to the bathroom without previously emptying my stomach. My cabin
seems to turn like a gyroscope and my knees are wobbly.

Somehow one of those nineteen strange tomato juices Jim called "Bloody
Mary" I had last night had surely been bad. How else it could be that
I don't remember coming back to my cabin? I do remember being in a
narrow alley, singing aloud and enjoying myself, but how did we get to
the ship?

Knowing that in 10.6 minutes I am due on the bridge, I resolve to take
a sonic shower and apply all the self-control techniques I ever learnt
to keep me from throwing up, silently hoping to survive this shift.

Jim is already on the bridge. His face is slightly gray, and his eyes
are bloodshot from the slight hangover he surely has.

"Commander Spock reporting for duty, sir." I hear myself cranking out.

"Oh my god, Spock, you look horrible. You must have the grandfather of
all hangovers."

Hangover? Me? Suddenly the facts fit together. Jim, you will pay for
the *tomato juice* I tell myself.

Without looking I know that the whole bridge crew is staring at me
after that comment from Cp. Kirk.

"I want you to go down to sickbay to see if Bones can help you. Now."

"Thank you, sir.", I hear myself whisper.

In sickbay I can find only Nurse Chapel. I am glad that McCoy is not
there. Chapel pages Dr. M'Benga, who takes some tests that I somehow
recognize to be necessary to establish a persons blood alcohol
concentration.

Seeing the results, he whistles aloud, the sound cutting like a razor
into my fogged brain.

"Mr. Spock, you're definitely unfit for duty for at least 36 hours.
You're still drunk like a skunk, and that's how long your system needs
to clean out those illogical intoxicants you consumed last night."

It's illogical to feel humiliated. And it's illogical to consume
intoxicants. But I did both of it. Silently I swear to myself that I
would never again trust Jim whenever he asked me to do just that.

"Please inform the Captain, Dr. M'Benga."

I pick myself up from the diagnostics table and swagger to my cabin,
dropping instantly on my bunk. Sleep is engulfing me before I manage
another thought.

I wake up again not knowing the stardate for about the first time in
years. I glance at the chrono and its about 11.3 hours later. My
headache has not subsided, but my stomach is better. I rest in my
bunk, trying to reconstruct the events of last night.

Jim had talked me into accompanying him to a bar on the planet. He
also convinced me, that these "Bloody Mary's" contained tomato juice.
I remember them having a strange taste, but I didn't suspect anything
at that time.

We talked and Jim ogled at the table dancing woman. I remember leaving
that establishment together with him, walking through the cold night,
inhaling fresh, oxygen rich air. At some point we both started
singing. I recollect myself singing "Amazing Graze", some Vulcan
children's songs and oh, no, that couldn't be...

"...brown sugar, why you taste so good... brown sugar just like a
young girl should ... She always has been my beloved African
queen...Since back then when we were not even nineteen...I was just
out of school, boy, but I knew what I liked...You should have seen her
then in the daylight... "

I cannot believe it. I have sung it. That modified version of that
ancient terran song I made up myself years ago...

"...Oh, Uhura, how come you look so good?...Oh, Uhura, just like my
dream girl should?..."

My secret. I gave it away. To Jim.

"...Quick smiling, long black legs draped up, Always have been
wondering where they are going to stop, I'm no schoolboy and I know
what I like, You should have heard me just around midnight...Brown
sugar, how come you taste so good, baby?..."

I must have been really drunk. To tell Jim that I am in love with
Nyota, and that I wish to make love to her.

Illogically I wish he doesn't remember. He will tease me mercilessly
about it. And most important I do not want him to tell anybody.

Especially not her!

One thing is sure: Nobody is getting me out of my quarters before the
remaining 25.4 hours are over. I will really need them to meditate.

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The End