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"Borderline"
Rating: PG When The Pie Flies (3) Archer had been staring at the computer screen for several minutes, not sure where he wanted to begin this. He chuckled as he stood up. “Computer, start log,” Archer said as he walked to his bed and laid down lengthwise on it. The computer beeped. He smiled, saying “Captain’s log, November seventeenth, twenty-one fifty-seven. Sometimes being a captain has major disadvantages. Today was one of them. I was caught by complete surprise by my crew’s actions today and while they are responsible for what they did, after spending three weeks on a ship with nothing in sight except for space dust, germs and the occasional unidentified flying rock, we have all started to get cabin fever. It all started because Chef had attempted to replicate cooked carrots, and they weren’t cooked all the way through.” Archer stood and started pacing his quarters as he spoke. “They were chewy like taffy in the center and hard on the outside—great combination for candy, not so great for carrots. And the irony of all this is that cooked carrots seem to be a favorite among my crew,” Archer laughed. “At least its not something gross like egg plant or artichokes!” Archer shook his head. “I couldn’t get a straight answer from anyone involved and ended up pulling my senior officers into my ready room to get to the bottom of it. It could have gone worse, I suppose.” Archer smiled, remembering the meeting he had a hard time being the stern captain he had to be. # Archer stared at Trip, T’Pol, Malcolm, Sista, Hoshi and Travis. All six were splattered with the remnants of the fight and all but T’Pol looked close to bursting into hysterical laughter. Hoshi had bits of cream pie stuck in her disheveled hair and a streak of butterscotch pudding ran down her neck. T’Pol had missed a spatter of chocolate pudding that ran down the side of her face near her ear and a couple more splatters across on her forehead. Trip proudly bore the remains of coconut cream pie in his hair and down the front of his uniform. “Trip.” Archer sat down on the edge of his desk and cleared his throat. “What happened?” Trip and Travis both fought back laughing and failed. Archer cleared his throat again, his face becoming sterner as he tightened his jaw. “Trip,” Archer said through gritted teeth. “It was Chef’s fault, Cap’n!” Trip laughed. Hoshi, Malcolm and Sista started giggling. Archer waited for the five to regain their composure before speaking again. “Chef wasn’t in the mess hall. Explain yourself.” “The carrots were awful!” Between fits of laughter Trip continued. “And I’d already had a bad day. I just wanted to eat and go home. I mean we’ve been stuck on this ship for three weeks without nothin’ to do. I’m starting ta go stir crazy!” Trip laughed. “So I’m sitting there, eating, minding my own business, when Malcolm and Sista come into the mess hall fighting. They got their food and sat down and were still fighting. I looked up in time to see a carrot fly up from Sista’s plate and hit Malcolm in the face—” “It was accident!” Sista laughed. “I still don’t believe that, sir,” Malcolm said. “Mm-hm.” Archer cleared his throat, his lips tightening into a thin line before relaxing. “And then what happened?” “He chucked a carrot at her, sir,” Travis laughed. “But the carrot missed Sista and hit me right in the head.” Trip pointed between his eyes, which jump-started a fit of giggles. “I threw it back at him and we exchanged words.” “I see.” Archer nodded. “And then?” “They were starting to get into a serious fight, sir,” Hoshi explained, an occasional giggle escaping as she spoke. “And frankly we were concerned that it was going to result in a fist fight.” “Concerned my ass!” Trip laughed. Hoshi started laughing. She turned, covering her mouth. “You know what she did? Do you wanna know what your Ensign did, sir!?” Trip asked Archer, pointing at Hoshi. Archer didn’t reply. His lips tightened again. “She dumped a glass of water on both of us! I mean, ice. Cold. Water. Right on our heads! I didn’t think she could even reach that high.” “I jumped,” Hoshi giggled. Again the five burst into a fit of laughter. “You poured water on two of your senior officers, Hoshi?” Archer asked her. “I didn’t know what else to do!” “You could have called security.” “The water was closer,” Hoshi started giggling again. Archer stood up and cleared his throat, “And then?” “I was furious!” Malcolm said, giggling between words. “And so was he.” Malcolm pointed to Trip. “I chucked a carrot at her. Told her to stop acting like one,” Trip admitted. “And what did you do then, Ensign?” Archer voice sounded strained. His face turned into a serious frown for a few moments. Hoshi started laughing so hard she had to sit down in a chair before she fell over. “She yelled at Trip,” Sista answered. “And then?” Archer asked. “She yelled at me, her commanding officer!” Trip laughed. “Told me I was acting like a child and to grow up! Then she walked back to her table and sat down. I was so mad that I picked up my pie, walked over and smashed it on her head. The pie. Not the plate.” “Apple pie!” Hoshi laughed. “So I nailed him with a pie back.” “A whole pie?” Archer asked. “Yes,” the five replied. “I walked over and got this beautiful, whipped cream covered, coconut cream pie. Then went over to Commander Tucker and rubbed his face in it.” Hoshi smiled sweetly. “I tried to defend the Commander,” Malcolm said. “I threw what was left of the pie at Lieutenant Reed,” Hoshi said. “I see. And then what happened?” Archer asked before clearing his throat. “Full out food fight!” Trip howled. “We had food flying everywhere!” The five burst into hysterical laughter, using each other for support to keep from falling over. “T’Pol, at what point did you alert security?” Archer asked. He cleared his throat and tightened his lips immediately. “I departed the mess hall as soon as I was struck with pudding.” Archer cleared his throat, coughed and asked, “I see. How long into the fight was that?” “Nearly twenty minutes, sir.” “Did you partake in this food fight?” “I continued eating, sir.” “And you didn’t think to alert security as soon as Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker began arguing?” T’Pol didn’t answer. “I’m very disappointed in all of you,” Archer said. “You are all restricted to your quarters and posts for a week. Meals will be scheduled and you will have a half hour to eat and then return to your post or quarters. Is that clear?” Archer said. “Yes, sir,” the six answered. And then all except T’Pol burst into hysterical laughter at the same time. “Dismissed!” Archer snapped. “Remain T’Pol.” Archer stood and turned toward the window, clearing his throat again. The five left still laughing hysterically. T’Pol waited for Archer to speak. Archer coughed and cleared his throat several times before speaking to T’Pol. “It was twenty minutes, T’Pol. Why did you wait so long?” “As I said, I was eating.” Archer turned and touched his computer screen. The video recording of the mess hall came up and he pointed at the screen. “This does not look like eating, T’Pol,” Archer said. T’Pol looked at the screen. Her hand was frozen in the motion of smearing part of the pudding that had struck her in the face on Trip’s face. Archer touched the screen and the video continued. While her voice could not be heard over the yelling of the fight, it was clear she said something to Trip, turned and left the mess hall. Archer touched the screen and it paused. “Then you informed security of the situation.” “It was a foolish reaction, but I did not partake in the food fight.” “You’re still under restriction, T’Pol. Dismissed.” Archer cleared his throat, tightening his lips. T’Pol turned and left the room. Archer fell into his chair and burst out laughing until his sides ached and he was crying. Archer worked to collect himself and then returned to other duties. # “…I wish T’Pol had just admitted she partook in the food fight. Maybe it would have convinced her that she really is part of the crew. And actually, it was good to see Trip get what was coming to him. I mean, he always contradicts everything she says and does, and she never says anything. I think it was a repressed desire. Computer pause.” Archer laughed. He sat down at the computer on his desk and brought up the video. He forwarded to the part where he entered the mess hall with security and yelled for the fight to stop. Two pies, some salad, several spoons of pudding and mashed potatoes hit Archer in the face. “Computer continue. When that food hit me they will never know how bad I wanted to grab the nearest plate of food and join in. But…” Archer sighed, sitting back and watching the recording of him wiping his face off and started barking orders. “A captain is a captain. Like I said, it has its disadvantages. Today was one…” Archer laughed, “Some sage advice to any captain who may listen to this entry later: never forget your crew are human, and Vulcan, and as such, they will surprise you. Attached is the visual sensor recording of the incident.” Archer laughed. “Computer, end log.” The computer beeped. Archer leaned forward and touched the screen. He restarted the video of the event, laughing hard through the entire thirty minutes of food fight. |
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