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thegrrrl2002.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2004-06-01 09:08 pm
thegrrrl2002.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-06-01 09:08 pm
Entry tags:
Off-Kilter by Qlara (NC-17)
Fandom: STAR TREK: ENTERPRISE
Pairing: Tucker/Reed
Author on LJ: no
Author e-mail: looppool@appleisp.net
Author Website: n/a
Why this must be read: This fic is a real favorite of mine. Qlara writes the best Trip-voice, ever. He's funny, smart, and capable, and so utterly delighted with Malcolm. On the surface, it's a story about some friendly aliens, who are so happy that Trip fixed their engine, that they give him a gift. And a dinner in his honor. But really, it's a clever, witty story told by Trip about his relationship with Malcolm, along with some wonderful Trek in-jokes. Especially when it comes to the gift. And I just love the imagery there.
From Off-Kilter:
We're goin' through the whole first contact dance, which I'm hearing over the comm from my post in engineering--
"Hi. We're from Earth and send you greetings and goodwill."
Of course Jon put it better, but you get the idea.
"We are humans; what is the name of your planet, and what do you call yourselves?"
Now, ya have to understand that their responses are goin' through our Universal Translator, to Hoshi, and from her to the captain and bridge crew.
"Captain. Permission to temporarily close the channel."
She barely gets it out cuz she's gaspin' and gurglin' so much that I'm thinkin' the poor girl's having some kind of seizure. And it seems to be confirmed when the captain says--
"Friends. New friends. We seem to be having some sort of extreme technical difficulty in communications. Would you allow us to close the channel for a moment to attend to it?"
They agreed, the channel was closed, and then I hear Hoshi just out a gut buster of a laugh. Well, at least now I know it's not a medical emergency--but what the hell?
"Lieutenant, I'm not sure just what's going on here, but it had better be well worth offending"
"Nuckinfuts," Hoshi says. She's still laughing, but I can hear her trying to clear her throat, regain some semblance of professional composure, and get a second wind.
"Excuse me?"
"Captain, I've checked and rechecked the system. It's a phonetic pronunciation, but an accurate English rendition of what they call themselves. They're Nuckinfuts," she says, and then she let loose with all that second wind gave her.
I'm sure it's Malcolm's voice I hear say--
"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding. Sorry, sir."
"Oh God, if only." And at this point I'm imagining her doubled over beneath her station. Gone. Just gone. Like when you're hysterically laughing at something, pull yourself together, and then all it takes is a word or a look, and it all starts up again even worse than the first time.
*****
Read the fic: Off-Kilter
Pairing: Tucker/Reed
Author on LJ: no
Author e-mail: looppool@appleisp.net
Author Website: n/a
Why this must be read: This fic is a real favorite of mine. Qlara writes the best Trip-voice, ever. He's funny, smart, and capable, and so utterly delighted with Malcolm. On the surface, it's a story about some friendly aliens, who are so happy that Trip fixed their engine, that they give him a gift. And a dinner in his honor. But really, it's a clever, witty story told by Trip about his relationship with Malcolm, along with some wonderful Trek in-jokes. Especially when it comes to the gift. And I just love the imagery there.
From Off-Kilter:
We're goin' through the whole first contact dance, which I'm hearing over the comm from my post in engineering--
"Hi. We're from Earth and send you greetings and goodwill."
Of course Jon put it better, but you get the idea.
"We are humans; what is the name of your planet, and what do you call yourselves?"
Now, ya have to understand that their responses are goin' through our Universal Translator, to Hoshi, and from her to the captain and bridge crew.
"Captain. Permission to temporarily close the channel."
She barely gets it out cuz she's gaspin' and gurglin' so much that I'm thinkin' the poor girl's having some kind of seizure. And it seems to be confirmed when the captain says--
"Friends. New friends. We seem to be having some sort of extreme technical difficulty in communications. Would you allow us to close the channel for a moment to attend to it?"
They agreed, the channel was closed, and then I hear Hoshi just out a gut buster of a laugh. Well, at least now I know it's not a medical emergency--but what the hell?
"Lieutenant, I'm not sure just what's going on here, but it had better be well worth offending"
"Nuckinfuts," Hoshi says. She's still laughing, but I can hear her trying to clear her throat, regain some semblance of professional composure, and get a second wind.
"Excuse me?"
"Captain, I've checked and rechecked the system. It's a phonetic pronunciation, but an accurate English rendition of what they call themselves. They're Nuckinfuts," she says, and then she let loose with all that second wind gave her.
I'm sure it's Malcolm's voice I hear say--
"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding. Sorry, sir."
"Oh God, if only." And at this point I'm imagining her doubled over beneath her station. Gone. Just gone. Like when you're hysterically laughing at something, pull yourself together, and then all it takes is a word or a look, and it all starts up again even worse than the first time.
*****
Read the fic: Off-Kilter
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http://fiction.entstcommunity.org/archive/25/offkilter.shtml
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Off-Kilter (http://fiction.entstcommunity.org/viewstory.php?sid=2015&ageconsent=ok)