I'm Not So Think As You Drunk I Am….
Five Times Captain Kirk Was Completely Sloshed and One Time He Wasn't

First Officer's Personal Log
Stardate: 4940.5

The Enterprise is 48.3 Standard Earth days into our five year mission. Since the time we departed Earth, the crew has begun to coalesce and shown signs of working toward becoming one cohesive unit. While Captain Kirk continues to display unorthodox methods of building this unity, he has shown a remarkable ability to balance the demands of command and yet remain personable. He is at times overly familiar with the crew, not remaining as aloof as is dictated by his position. This seems to be his personality. While those of us who served under now-Admiral Pike were accustom to a more genteel, almost paternal approach, this Captain prefers camaraderie over discipline, informality over a strict adherence to regulations. I put down much of his ebullience to his relative youth.

After patrolling the border of the neutral zone for the past 35.8 days, Starfleet directed us to Starbase Seger for a brief respite. We arrived yesterday at 15:34 ship's time. After all docking procedures were dispensed with, we rotated off Enterprise onto the station to avail ourselves of some of the food available from the eating establishments, of which there are a multitude.

The Captain, Dr. McCoy, and I, by happenstance, chose the same restaurant and we agreed to sit at the same table, to leave the other tables available for crewmembers who were patiently waiting. The Captain and the Doctor, as is their custom, talked primarily to one another throughout most the wait and the meal, exchanging what Lt. Uhura referenced as good-humored barbs. I find the habit illogical and demeaning to the Captain's rank. However, as he has never voiced any objection, I kept my observation to myself.

Before we had finished eating, Dr. McCoy was summoned to return to the ship to see to a member of the engineering staff who had suffered burns to his hands and arms. The Captain offered to return with the Doctor, who insisted he remain and finish his meal. The Captain did so, resuming his seat across the table from me.

"Soooo…." the Captain said to me after Dr. McCoy had left. I sensed some nervousness in his demeanor which I found puzzling.

"Yes sir?"

"How's your…uhm….soup?" he asked, eyeing my bowl with what I knew to be an expression denoting distaste.

"It is quite delicious, sir," I responded. "And your steak?"

"Perfect," he said, looking down at it. "Is that a traditional Vulcan dish?" he asked, flinching slightly at the mention of my former home planet. I had noticed that the Humans with whom I interact on a regular basis often have a similar reticence concerning mentioning my home planet, which I understood and was powerless to overcome.

"It is, sir," I agreed. "Plomeek soup is both enjoyable and filling."


"Indeed," I said. "We are not immune to appreciating well prepared food."

"I see," he said, placing his fork on his plate before picking it up again. When the waiter stopped by our table, the Captain requested another draft beer while I declined anything further.

I answered his inquires, engaging in conversation concerning the topics of interest to me. When he began discussing our next assignment, to negotiate a trade agreement with the Parietners, I shared with him all of the information which I had. He asked several pointed, insightful questions, requesting clarification and amplification on four of the facts I provided. It was clear from his discussion of the planet that he had at least read the briefing he had been provided. The other information I had discovered in the research that is a part of my responsibilities as First Officer. I gathered that he was grateful for the additional insight, and seemed surprised that I was as well versed on the planet as I was.

I suppose a Human would say that we lost track of time. I knew the time all the while but as the Captain seemed in no hurry to leave, I was willing to remain so long as he did. When he decided after 2.431 hours to leave the restaurant, he stood from his seat and swayed noticeably, his hip colliding with the edge of the table.

"Captain?" I said, uncertain of the cause for the momentary lapse in his balance.

"I 'parently had one many too beers," he said, looking directly at me. I could not fail to notice that his eyes were not as focused as was his norm.

"I see, sir," I replied. An empty but useful response I had picked up from my Human acquaintances. "Are you able to return to the ship unaided?"

"Uhmm…. I fink so…. If the floor wouldn't rock quite so much hard."

"It is stationary, sir," I said as he swayed once more.

"Nope," he said, shaking his head. "Rockin'."

Rather than argue, I nodded. "I believe you are experiencing the effects of real alcohol after drinking synthahol for several months."

"Prollaly," he said. "Why are there two of you?"

"There are not, sir," I said. I finally conceded to the inevitable and lightly grasped his elbow. "Allow me to assist you, sir."

"Oh, hot," the Captain said, looking down at my hand.

"A Vulcan's mean body temperature is several degrees higher than a Human's."

"Seberal? You know don't precisely exact?"

"I do know, sir. However in your current state it would be meaningless to you," I said, assisting him in leaving the restaurant.

"Wait," he protested, leaning against the wall in the hallway. "Wait."

"I am waiting, sir," I said.

"I'm not so think as you drunk I am," he said, looking at me with fiercely blue eyes.

"I would not presume to imply that you are intoxicated, sir," I replied.

"That's all righty then," he said, nodding excessively. "Now, where are my quarters?"

"On the ship, sir."

"We're on the ship, sir," he informed me.

"We are not. We are on the spacestation," I corrected.

"That's right. Spacestation Bob," he said. "No. Silver Bullet. No. Hi Ho Silver. Or…uhm… never mind. You know where we are at, right?"

"I do. And we will continue going this way until we arrive at the Enterprise."

"Good," he said with a nod. "Lean on McDuff."

I did not bother to correct him as I knew it would be pointless. After some maneuvering and some stumbling on his part, we arrived safely at his quarters. He had previously given me the code to his door and we successfully entered. He went straight to his bed and climbed on to lay face down.

"Nighty night," he said to me, closing his eyes.

"I believe you will want to remove your uniform, sir," I suggested.

"Nope. Too much trouble. Work. Bother. Oh bother."

I stood next to his bed in momentary indecision until I realized that Dr. McCoy was well equipped to deal with this circumstance. I contacted him over the intercom, to which he responded immediately.

"Yeah Spock?"

"I am in the Captain's quarter. I have reason to believe he over-indulged at the restaurant. Would it be convenient for you to come see to his personal needs?"

"He's drunk off his ass?"

"It would appear so."

"Fine. I'll be right there. Wait for me," he demanded and disconnected before I had the opportunity to respond. It was 6.79 minutes later that the Doctor arrived, frowning down at the Captain.


"Huh?" Jim mumbled mostly into the pillow cushioning his face.

"Get up. Take off your uniform."

"Nope. Not going to school today," was the response.

The Doctor frowned even more though I would not have believed it possible. He sat on the side of the Captain's bed and reached for the edge of this shirt. "Okay, kid. Raise up just a little."

The Captain did as instructed and continued to be amenable to the Doctor's instructions. With skill and efficiency, the Doctor disrobed the Captain and helped him into his bed to lay down properly.

"There," McCoy said. I noted that his fingers carded through the Captain's hair and the Captain seemed to sigh at the touch.

"Are there negative repercussions of which we must be cognizant?" I asked.

"Nah. He'll sleep it off, and except for a headache tomorrow, will be back to his old self," the Doctor said. His tone was softer, his expression warmer.

"Very well. I will retire to my own quarters."

"Okay. That's fine. And Spock," he said.

I paused prior to allowing the door to open. "Yes Doctor?"


I was uncertain why he was thanking me so he amplified.

"He doesn't overdo very often. Not any longer. If you hadn't watched out for him, it could have turned out badly," McCoy said.

I nodded. "It is my responsibility to see to the safety and welfare of the Captain."

"Okay," he said, smiling up at me. "Thanks anyway."

"Good night," I responded before leaving and returning to my quarters.