Hic-hic-hiccups

Hi, guys! This is the author speaking. I didn't want to try and explain this all in Spock vernacular so you can get it in plain English.
These next couple of posts are some pre written stories I did awhile ago about the adorable duo Spock and Bridget. B didn't have a name at this point, so that's why she is adressed as 'The girl' or 'friend'  The timeline for these are a little sporadic and this particular story is based on them being about 8-10 years of age.  Aunt Faye is a new character for you guys, and she is just the Aunt that the two live with. (Even logical Vulcans need parentl supervision to avoid messes of unfathomable disaster.) Or so I've heard. So that's who she is Oh, and since I am illogically paranoid, Spock is not mine, despite his adorable self that I wish could be. He belongs to Gene Rodenberry and all those other lucky people. All other characters and plot lines are my own creation. Please don't use them without asking me first.   I hope you like reading these as much as I've loved writing them.  Now, I think I've taken up enough space in their little universe, don't you? 



“Spock, what are you doing?”


The girl looked down at the boy sitting upside down on the couch.

“I am trying to find a cure.”

“For what?”

“I have the hic-I have hic-

“You have what?” The girl grinned.

“Synchronous- hic- diaph- hic- diaphragmatic- hic, hic…

“The hiccups?”

“Yeah,” he grinned sheepishly.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“I-hic- told you.” Spock said, bending backwards and standing up. “I am trying to find a cure.”

“How?”

“By exploring all the urban legends.”

“What urban legends?”

“There is no cure for- hic- that. There is just a collection of supposed cures so I am going to- hic- try all of them.”

“Can I help?” the girl asked, curious.

“Alright,”

“What’s next?”

“Eating-hic- sugar. Do you have any?”

“I think so, it’s in the kitchen. We’ll have to be quite, Aunt Faye doesn’t want us in there.”

He nodded and they walked quietly into the kitchen. Getting out the sugar bowl and a spoon. The girl looked at the sugar before getting out a second spoon. “I should try it too.”

He grinned and carefully took a small bite of the sugar before making a face, “It’s sweet.”

“Yeah, its’ sugar,” the girl said, taking a heaping spoonful, “What did you expect?”

“I am not sure.”

The girl shrugged and put her spoon back in the bowl for more.

Spock did the same, but with less enthusiasm.

“Well, did it work?”

“Hic- no. It does not appear to be so.”

“So what next? Don’t you drink water or something?”

He nodded, “Yes,”

“Great, try that now.”

He hopped off the counter and filled a glass with water, hiccupping quietly. The girl watched as he took a small sip.

“And?”

He shook his head.

“Aren’t you supposed to drink it from the far side of the glass?” she tilted her head to one side.

“The far side?” Spock looked at the glass, “Is that even possible?”

“I guess it is. Why don’t you try it?”

He gave her a skeptical look before bending his head to drink from the opposite end. He jerked his head back quickly.

“That does-hic- does not work.” He spluttered, wiping water from his hair.

The girl laughed, taking another bite of sugar, “Do it again! This is fun.”

He glared at her before breaking his gaze as he started hiccupping again. This made her laugh harder.

“Well now what?” he asked her crossly.

“I can try scaring you? That’s supposed to work.”

“You can’t scare me.” He folded his arms.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes,”

“What about the ladybugs?” she smirked.

He frowned at her look, “They are not indigenous to my planet. I find them disturbing.”

She rolled her eyes, “Right,”

“Well-hic- since you are out of options, I am going to go and- hic- read.”

“What about finding your cure?” she asked.

“I will see to it later.” he turned and left the room.

She shrugged and went back to eating spoonfuls of sugar. She had to go to a ballet class and didn’t see Spock again until an hour later. She knocked quietly on his bedroom door before entering after there was no answer.

“Spock? Are you in here?”

“I am here.” The voice came from around the corner and she peered around before stopping short.

“What are you doing?”

“Hic- despairing.”

“Why?”

“Because-hic- I cannot rid myself of this annoying-hic- irritation and if it does not leave then I will shatter my diaphragm and die.”

“And you know this how?”

Without even looking from the position he had of being sprawled across his bed, he pointed at a book lying on the floor. “Page thirty-seven.”

She opened to the page and read, closing the book with a snap, “Well, I guess you’re right. You’re going to die. Can I have your telescope when you’re dead?”

He sat up on his elbows, looking shocked, “You cannot be serious.”

“Yep,” she plopped down on his bed. “I am.”

“But… but what about the sentimental side of humans?” he stuttered, “Aren’t you supposed to offer condolences or something similar?”

“Hm, are we? I must have missed the memo. Now, about your telescope, you better show me how to work it before you die. And who do you want at your funeral? Your Vulcan side or your human side? ‘Cause I don’t know if they would all get along together.”

“Stop it!” he covered his head with a pillow, “I don’t want to hear anymore.”

She grinned at his covered head, “Well? Did it work?”

He sat up, puzzled. “Did what work?”

“Did I scare you? Are your hiccups gone?”

He paused before shaking his head, his hair all messed up from the static on the pillow case, “It appears they are gone.”

She smirked at him.

He started to smile before frowning at her, “That was not very nice.”

She shrugged, “Too bad, it worked.”

His eyes widened, “You are right! We found the cure!”

She grinned at him and he shook her hand enthusiastically, “This is wonderful! The sciences will be changed now! This will greatly influence mankind now that we know the cure. This is fantastic! It’s.. it’s…

Hic.

Devilish Felines

With all that has been happening in my Earth visit, I've had to find a better place to chronicle all my findings. My chronicler, No Ordinary Mind has placed my research and other adventures on another website.  She goes under the pseudonym Spockologist which I find to be slightly melodramatic, but it was her choice. To read more of her stories, I have included the location of their archives here 

But enough business matters. I have a story for you. One involving that satanic feline my friend insists on keeping around. I loathe the creature. Its green eyes watching every move from the corners of dusty bookshelves is enough to drive anyone mad. But the cat finally got its comeuppance and I got my revenge.  Cats are not fond of water, and for that I cannot blame them.  I was rinsing the dishes and putting them in their peculiar old fashioned Maytag dishwasher, when the cat jumped up on the door of the dishwasher and meowed loudly.

Seeing my chance, I looked around carefully before quickly closing the door and trapping the protesting cat inside.  That would keep her occupied while I tried to finish a paper I was writing on.  (To be fair, she had been bothering me, and I was getting less than patient.)  So planning on coming back after finishing my essay, I would open the door and release the humbled, but still miserable creature.


I had not been planning on Bridget starting the dishwasher.


A few hours later, we were in the kitchen preparing dinner when a pitiful sound came from the dishwasher.
I instantly paled as I remembered the creature trapped inside.  Bridget gave me a curious look and opened the door as a wet ball of fur came flying out and streaked across the room to hide under the couch.

It took plenty of coaxing, several towels, copious amounts of entreating and caressing before the small cat finally allowed my friend to pick her up.   I wish my treatment had been similar.

I was not aware that shutting a cat inside the dishwasher was not only illogical, but mean and could have killed the 'poor little dear.'  So I was given several glares, an order to never do that again and the punishment of fixing dinner by myself.

As I walked into the kitchen, the cat stalked past me, tail waving and gave me such a look, that I know that won't be the last I hear of this incident.

One should never trust devilish felines.