The Party: a Dish Served Cold

by Satin Ragdoll

Janice looked at her companions. Boy, they looked good. The dresses were lovely silver creations, and McCoy had done an excellent job on their brows and ears. It looked so much better on them than it had on the Captain.

"Oh, you two look so pretty! I'm glad it went so well!" It was worth every credit.

Uhura and Chapel preened. They knew they looked good as Vulcan. Uhura smiled, "This was a great idea, Jan. We know how he's been treating you, and we don't like it very much, either. If this doesn't get his goat, nothing will."


The three of them were sipping punch, waiting for their "victim" to arrive. They wouldn't admit it, but they were a little tense.

McCoy had volunteered to be lookout. He had done the surgery, and he thought it was great, what they were doing. Maybe it would take the stiff Vulcan down a peg or two. It certainly would rattle his cage. Hopefully.

He caught sight of the Vulcan in question, and buzzed on over to the ladies, "He's coming."

They instantly straightened up and schooled their expressions. McCoy grinned. Spock wouldn't know what hit him.


Spock didn't care much for Halloween. He understood the value for Humans, however. It was a chance for them to face their fears, or indulge their fantasies. Emotional. Illogical. Human.

The only concession he made was a simple black eyemask. The crew knew who he was, but at least it would show he was making a token effort to fit in. He had seen how important that was to the primarily human crew.

He had seen all kinds of costumes at the Halloween parties the Enterprise had thrown in the past, but what he saw now stopped him cold.

Uhura, Chapel and Rand all dressed up as Vulcan women, identical. Was it a conspiracy? They caught sight of him and raised a brow as a single unit. Yes, a conspiracy. But why? His curiosity was piqued, and he had to admit, his ire as well. Why had they done this? He was almost certain it was Chapel's idea. He would have to have words with her.


He strolled over to them, trying to seem casual. "Good evening, ladies. I trust you are well."

They gave him frosty Vulcan stone-face, but Uhura could not hide a touch of mischief in her voice when she responded, "We're fine Mr. Spock. What do you think of our costumes?"

Spock hesitated, "Most...interesting. However, the hems of your gowns should be approximately three point two centimeters longer. Good day."

He turned away, and Janice glared at his back, wanting to chew nails. Uhura put a hand on her arm to calm her. Janice growled, "I'm going to kill him. I swear, before this is over, I'm going to kill him!"

Chapel soothed her, "Calm, Janice, calm. Vulcan, remember? Ice. For this to work, you'll have to be cool. Just think on this: revenge is a dish best served cold. Cold. Ice cold. Vulcan cold."

Jan took a deep breath, "You're right. You're right. Vulcan." She schooled her expression, again, "Thank you. Now, let's mingle. We'll see what he does. Vulcans. They drive me crazy." With that, the trio spread out through the party.


Christine was off by herself when Spock approached her. She could tell by the set of his mouth that he was a little agitated. Oho! Here it comes.

"Nurse Chapel. You have certainly outdone yourself. Tell me, were you intentionally trying to embarrass me by your choice of costume? I have trouble believing that the three of you as Vulcan women was just coincidence."

She smiled sweetly at him, "Oh, no, Mr. Spock. This time I'm just along for the ride. This was somebody else's idea, not mine. I just thought it was grand."

He quirked a brow at her. Not Christine's idea? "Then who's idea was it that you three come as Vulcan women?"

She tipped her chin in Janice Rand's direction. She was coldly regarding a male shipmate, "That is not only illogical, it's physically impossible. That suggestion falls under the category: not on your puny little Human life."

Spock let out a barely audible sigh. Janice Rand.


Janice heard her name spoken in tones that would freeze a Tolarian lava-lizard. "Yeoman Rand. It has been brought to my attention that it was your idea for the Vulcan costuming. Would you care to explain?"

She gave him a cold eyebrow, "Why, Mr. Spock! I thought the dresses were lovely. Why are you upset? Do you find our costumes offensive?"

He regarded her steadily, "They are not offensive, per se, but it is an obvious attempt to put me off my guard. Nurse Chapel indicated to me the Vulcan costuming was your idea. Would you care to explain why you are trying to bait me?"

She turned on him, eyes burning, "I might ask you the same thing!"

Spock was taken aback, "I do not understand."

Janice had a near photographic memory. She rattled off every single catty thing Spock had said or did to her in the past four months, pulling off his tone and body language to a T. She concluded with, "I don't know what you think you're doing, Spock, but it hurts. I would have thought you above this, but apparently you're not. I'm transferring off ship, but before I left I just wanted a little of my own back."

Spock was floored. He had not realized that he had been treating her in such a manner. He had been trying to be...friendly. Rapidly analyzing his behavior, Spock realized that he had been baiting Janice just as McCoy was always baiting him. This was unacceptable. Perhaps he needed more interaction with the crew than just his few visits to the rec-hall and his chess games with Jim. "I am sorry, Yeoman Rand. I had not realized I was behaving so inappropriately. Please forgive me."

She softened, "You are forgiven. Just try not to piss me off, anymore. And just for the record, in social situations my name is 'Janice', Spock. Use it."

He nodded, "Agreed. Janice." Humans. He had to learn to not underestimate them. To do so was highly illogical, plus had the tendancy to be unpleasant. And when it came to Human women, very, very unpleasant.