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The Annual Conference for the Federation of Planets had once been a week-long event to promote the continued goodwill between member planets, a time for diplomats and Federation personnel from all over the galaxy to come together and talk soberly of peace and technological advancements and mutual cultural awareness.
One-hundred years and over one-hundred planets later, it had become a great, big party.
"How d'ya like Chapel in that one-piece, Spock? Get your green juices flowin' or what?" McCoy asked as they stood by the pool.
"I am not aware of the movement of any liquids about my person, Doctor. As for Nurse Chapel's bathing attire it seems to adequately support her physiology," Spock replied and rubbed more sunscreen onto himself.
"What about Sulu in those little shorts? Keeps himself fit, our helmsman."
"As the ship's doctor, you would have a better grasp of Mr. Sulu's physical condition."
McCoy huffed.
Jim stood nearby grinning in the sunshine. McCoy had vowed to find Spock a date for the week and was trying to figure out Spock's preferences.
"Well how about that Orion over there in the bikini?"
"Is there a particular question implied in that statement, Doctor?"
"What do you think of her?" McCoy asked.
"I had not, in fact, thought anything about her until you asked me a non-specific question regarding her person. I still am not thinking of her. I am instead thinking that this line of questioning is growing increasingly arbitrary."
"I think, Bones," Jim interrupted, "that what Mr. Spock is saying is that his preferences are not based on looks alone, or perhaps even looks at all."
"Not true, Captain," Spock said, "I have a very particular, as you Terrans might call it, 'type'."
"Well what is it?" McCoy said, exasperated.
"That, Doctor, would make your task too easy."
As the two of them continued to quarrel Jim surveyed the scene for himself, standing poolside in his swim trunks. It was a good crowd this year, plenty of old and new faces, and even with the cocktails flowing freely so far no one had even been arrested.
He had just caught the gaze of a Betazoid he'd spent the evening with three years ago when something else entirely stepped into his line of sight.
"Is that what I think it is?" McCoy asked quietly.
"That would depend on whether or not you think it is a Gorn," Spock said flatly.
"Yes," Jim said, "I had heard they had finally joined the Federation, but…"
"But you gotta see it to believe it," McCoy said.
It was certainly something to see: the green and deadly lizard creature sipping a Mai Tai poolside, Bermuda shorts and flowery lei and all. The Gorn still had not noticed the three of them staring at him. Or, rather, the two humans staring and the one Vulcan sitting on the edge of the pool, testing the water with his toes.
"But do you think it's the Gorn, Jim?" McCoy asked. "The captain of the Gorn ship you had to fight?"
"Oh it's him alright. I'd know those scales anywhere."
"What are the odds?"
"Approximately seventeen-million-eight-hundred-ninety-seven-thousand--"
"Oh, can it, Vulcan knowitall," McCoy said and sat down beside Spock, then slid easily into the water.
"You did ask, Doctor," Spock replied and followed him.
Jim continued to watch the Gorn who seemed to also be surveying the scene before him, particularly a volleyball tournament between some Andorians and a group of first-year Starfleet cadets. Perhaps even militant lizardmen needed a little downtime and a friendly companion now and then. Suddenly, the Gorn turned his head and caught sight of Jim
"Gentleman, we've been spotted," Jim said. "He's coming over."
"Do you require assistance, Captain?" Spock asked, treading water.
"Not yet, Mr. Spock, but stay close."
Jim didn't even bother to pretend not to see him; it would have been insulting. He watched as the Gorn slithered over. He didn't actually slither, but there was something about his stride that suggested it.
"Captain Kirk," the Gorn said in that growling, creaking barndoor way of his, drawing it out like a curse.
"Captain… er, Captain," Jim said, having to look up at the Gorn.
"You could not pronounce it. The Federation officials call me Gerald."
There was a snicker from the pool that sounded like McCoy.
"Captain Gerald, I don't suppose you came all the way over here to drop a rock on my head?"
The Gorn--Gerald--watched him, his eyes unreadable, silvery and shimmery and cold. "We are allies now, Captain," he said, but somehow it still sounded like a threat.
"Yes, well, at any rate, we should certainly be able to pass the week by staying out of each other's way," Jim suggested sternly.
Gerald blinked, so that Jim's own reflection in those eyes winked out and then back, and something made him regret the stern tone. Hopefully he had not antagonized the creature.
"Yes, Captain, I believe we may," Gerald said, a low rumble in his green barrel chest, and turned slowly away.
"That was a close one," McCoy said moments later as he stood dripping next to Jim. Spock joined them, shivering, and McCoy put a towel around his shoulders.
"I'm not so sure," Jim said.
___
They did not, in fact, manage to stay out of each other's way. That night, during the welcome ceremony, Jim had to fill in for Rear Admiral Harper who had enjoyed too many Cardassian Sunrises and was making embarrassing noises in the hotel lobby bathroom. Harper had been meant to give a speech to welcome the newest members of the Federation and when that task fell to Jim he found himself on stage with the Gorn Captain, shaking his cold palm, grip painfully tight, and smiling for a photograph. Gerald might have smiled, Jim couldn't tell. There were definitely a lot of teeth.
The next night, when Uhura dragged them all to karaoke, the Gorn was there, wearing what must pass on his planet for a tuxedo and singing a Tellarite love song (according to Uhura), sad and slow. And on the morning that he and Spock and McCoy toured Alcatraz, the Gorn appeared in the background of at least three of their selfies, arm stretched out, taking his own selfie alone.
"I can't seem to get away from him," Jim said to McCoy on the fourth day, after seeing the Gorn at breakfast in the hotel lobby, standing at the waffle station, dropping crickets and mealworms into his waffle batter.
"It's not surprising, Jim, we see the same faces all over," McCoy said as they rode up in the elevator. "You're just noticing him in particular because you've got history."
"You make it sound like we were lovers."
"Lovers, enemies, it's basically the same thing."
Jim smiled at McCoy's fortuitous choice of words. "What are you and Spock up to today?"
The elevator dinged and they stepped off even as a group of bickering Andorians crowded in.
"We've both got presentations tomorrow. Spock's gonna help me put the finishing touches on my Powerpoint, then I'm gonna annoy him until he agrees to go to the Applied Sciences cocktail mixer with me. I hear there's a half dozen Vulcans from the Science Academy skulking around, maybe all that brainpower's what he's looking for."
"You're still trying to find him someone special?"
"You know me, I don't believe in no-win scenarios," McCoy grinned.
They stopped outside of Jim's room, McCoy's was next door. Jim said, "And you don't think there might be someone he's already interested in? Maybe someone… closer to home?"
"Well, he'd have said so, wouldn't he? Why, what do you know, Jim?"
Jim smiled. "Nothing. Just asking," he said, and left McCoy in the hallway.
___
The lawn at the Academy was still damp with dew and the fog brought a chill to the air as Jim crossed the quad. He didn't have any place he needed to be that day and with McCoy and Spock busy he decided to visit the campus museum, a mixture of intergalactic natural and aviation history. Somehow, it was no surprise to find the Gorn there, staring up at the Tyrannosaurus-Rex exhibit, once again alone.
Jim thought he might just skirt by undetected, but then he noticed a small group of cadets walking up and as they approached the Gorn one said "relative of yours?" just loud enough to be heard, and then the lot of them took off running like cowards. Gerald made an aborted step as if to follow but thought better of it, then squared his shoulders and continued reading the information placard.
Jim crossed the room, cleared his throat as he approached so as not to cause alarm.
"I always preferred the Triceratops myself," Jim said, and smiled kindly.
One of Gerald's large, silvery eyes swiveled in his direction, which he supposed was a Gorn's efficient way of acknowledging another's presence.
"Our planet also had similar creatures many millennia ago," he said in that deep, rumbling rattle, his eye swiveling back to the T-Rex, "although the dentition of these is significantly decreased."
Jim nodded his head. "I can imagine. Are there many great museums on your home planet?"
"Its cultural centers relative to its population are comparable to Earth."
The way the Gorn said 'Earth' sounded like a curse, but then so did most everything else he said. Jim was beginning to get the impression that this was just the way that he spoke.
"I'd be curious to see what Gorn art and literature are like."
"Do you think us incapable of creating beauty, Captain?" Gerald asked, finally turning his head to regard Jim with both eyes.
"Of course not, but each culture has its own ideas of art and beauty. Understanding our differences is as important as understanding our similarities."
Gerald was quiet, then made a motion that might have been a nod. "I find much Terran art lacking in pigment variation, however, I understand this to be a limitation of your vision."
"Our loss, clearly."
"It is said that there was a late Ssh'gar-Cass'hk Dynasty artist who once endeavoured to use every color in the Gorn's visible spectrum in one painting."
"And did they succeed?"
"They went mad and attempted to eat their own hass'k," Gerald said, and made a grating sound like a flat tire on gravel that Jim was pretty sure was a laugh. He laughed as well.
"Have you visited the aviation wing?" Jim asked. "I was just headed there myself."
___
"And you spent the day with him?" McCoy asked late that night after Jim had gotten him out of bed. He was wearing pajamas with starships on them and his hair was all askew.
"Yes," Jim said and sat on the bed. "We walked all over campus, caught the train to a couple of art museums, then I took him down to Mountain View."
McCoy sat next to him. "You took him to the cemetery?"
"He was curious about our customs. On his planet they vaporize the dead. The body is seen as merely a vessel, even an impediment which is overcome at the time of death, not unlike some Earth cultures."
"Did you by chance take a picnic out on the lawn?" McCoy asked, teasing.
"We had dinner."
"Were there candles?"
Jim frowned. "You're being more than usually facetious this evening. How'd it go with Spock today?"
McCoy shrugged. "Not much. Presentations, mostly. I did get him to the mixer but he wouldn't really talk to anyone else. I'm beginning to think he's resisting my matchmaking efforts just to spite me."
"When you say he didn't talk to anyone else, do you mean that he talked to you all night?"
"Well, yeah," McCoy frowned. "I'm worried he might be anti-social."
Jim smiled. "I don't think that's the case, Bones. Just keep trying, alright? You'll… figure it out eventually." He stood to leave.
"So what about the Gorn--"
"Gerald," Jim corrected.
"Well what about Gerald? You seeing him again tomorrow?"
Jim remembered their last moments together, just twenty minutes before in the hotel lobby, when Jim had wished him a good night and yawned and Gerald had said the same, those rows of teeth flashing in a bright smile.
"We didn't make any plans."
"Good," McCoy said forcefully
"What do you mean by that? That's pretty xenophobic even for you, Bones."
"Not at all," McCoy said and opened his door for Jim to leave. "It's just that the last thing the Federation needs is for a jilted Gorn to go tearing through the galaxy after you break his heart. Good night, Jim."
___
Two days later the party was starting to wind down. Some of the deep space representatives had already started the journey home. Tomorrow the crew of the Enterprise would pack up their luggage and what was left of their dignity and head back out to complete their mission.
That morning, Jim went for a run in the cool morning fog. He hadn't run those hills since he was a cadet, but he felt he still remembered every stone, every soaring evergreen. He had not seen Gerald since the day they spent together, not at breakfast or the pool, not even at the Health & Technology exposition where Spock and Bones had given their presentations to a yawning crowd, unimpressed by McCoy's dissolving slide transitions.
When Jim returned to his room to shower, just as he was keying open his door, McCoy's door opened and Spock stepped out, still wearing his dress uniform from the exposition the day before. His usually perfect hair was not so perfect.
"Mr. Spock!" Jim whisper-shouted even though Spock was already headed his way. He opened his door and let Spock inside.
"May I assume that you've finally relieved the good doctor of his imaginary duties and simply told him how you feel?" Jim asked.
Spock crossed his arms, looking less than dignified with his hair sticking out.
"Negative, Captain, however, I do feel that he now has some idea of my intentions."
Jim rinsed his face and grabbed a towel, slung it around his neck. "Well it would be hard for him to have any less of an idea, but may I ask…"
"If you are attempting to inquire about my state of dress upon exiting the doctor's room so early in the morning, no, you may not."
"Spock," Jim prodded.
Spock sighed. "The doctor overindulged last night. I escorted him to his room and situated him comfortably. However, I did so in such a way that I was unable to extract myself before his loss of consciousness."
"He fell asleep on you," Jim said, beaming. "That's adorable, Mr. Spock!"
Spock raised a brow and didn't comment on what was adorable or not. Instead he said, "May I now inquire, Captain, if you have had additional contact with the Gorn captain? I noticed that it caused you some distress yesterday when you did not find him."
"Distress? No, certainly not."
Spock arched that brow higher. "So it is merely coincidence that you, as Doctor McCoy tells me, spent your afternoon at the Starfleet Academy library researching what little is known of the Gorn society?"
"Well he seemed to know so much about Earth's history, it was the considerate--the logical thing to do, Mr. Spock," Jim said, trying to reason with his Vulcan sensibilities. "Did you know that they can actually see UV light?"
Spock blinked slowly in a way that was more of an eyeroll. He was spending too much time with McCoy.
"Indeed, Captain," he said. "If you will excuse me, I must prepare for the day." He nodded his goodbye and left quietly, leaving Jim alone in his room.
Jim showered and dressed, thinking the whole time of what Spock had said. He had been disappointed, perhaps, but not distressed. Spock was usually very keen about these things, though, whatever McCoy might say about the Vulcan's lack of emotions. Anyway, Jim was sure to see Gerald that night at the closing ceremony.
___
Jim did not see Gerald at the closing ceremony. Instead, he saw him in the hall outside the ballroom after the ceremony, dressed in a sharp-looking sleeveless dress uniform, loitering in the hallway as if he was not sure where he was meant to go or whether or not he wanted to go there.
"You missed a good speech," Jim said as he approached and Gerald turned, a little surprised. "The Fleet Admiral likes to lay it on thick. Boldly going and all that." He smiled and it was reflected in Gerald's shiny eyes.
"Good evening, Captain Kirk," Gerald growled awkwardly, as if Jim had not yet said anything at all. Jim thought he might be the first person in the Sol System to witness a nervous Gorn.
"Just Jim," he said.
"Jim… I was able to hear the speech adequately from my position in the corridor."
A crowd of mixed persons, Tellarites, Andorians, and a few humanoids Jim didn't recognize walked past noisily and Jim shuffled a little closer.
"Usually the new Federation members make speeches," Jim said, speaking loudly over the noise, though he was sure Gerald could have heard him from across the room. "I'm surprised that you didn't."
Gerald nodded. "I do not like audiences," he said. "Or crowds."
A familiar laugh across the hall caught Jim's attention: McCoy, grinning as he walked with Spock toward the elevators. Jim thought to flag them down, introduce them to Gerald at last, but they stepped onto the lift together before he could, and as the doors slid closed McCoy's arms went around Spock's neck and Spock bent a little and McCoy was still smiling when they kissed.
Jim turned to Gerald to find that he'd been watching as well. He cleared his throat, then smiled a smile that very few creatures throughout the galaxy had been able to resist.
"How about we get out of here?"
___
The sun was low on the horizon when they took a shuttle the short distance through the Richmond District, then walked through the park, past college students and tourists and intergalactic diplomats, some of them holding hands, some of them laughing loudly. Gerald was much quieter than he had been a couple of days before and walked slowly as he always did. Jim strolled easily beside him, hands behind his back since his dress uniform didn't have pockets that might allow him to act any more casual.
By the time they made it to the beach the sun was beginning to set and the wind was chilly. Jim took off his shoes and socks and carried them, Gerald did the same.
On the beach they stood and looked at the waves and the pinkening sky until Gerald walked back up the beach to a line of boulders and hoisted one up over his head, bigger than he was, and headed toward Jim. Jim took a step back, worried that perhaps he'd had the situation wrong all along, but then Gerald dropped the giant rock down heavily into the sand and motioned for Jim to have a seat.
The rock was still warm from the afternoon sun and Jim decided quickly not to mention anything about lizards and hot rocks.
"I had a sudden flashback just then," he said instead.
"As I recall," Gerald said, voice rumbling so deep Jim imagined he could feel it through the stone, "you did a good amount of rock throwing as well."
Jim smiled. "And you were completely unfazed by it."
"We Gorn have thick skins."
"But not hard hearts, I hope." Jim said. The wind picked up, salty and cool and Gerald stiffened next to him in the cold breeze. Jim stood and removed his dress uniform coat and draped it over Gerald's shoulders. It didn't fit, but Gerald relaxed somewhat and thanked him.
"I had hoped to see you yesterday," Jim said as he sat back down, just a little closer. "Where'd you get off to?"
"I had business on the ship," Gerald said, looking up. Somehow Jim had not considered that the Gorn ship was out there orbiting somewhere with the rest of the Federation vessels.
"And what of the rest of your crew? Why have we not seen any other Gorn?"
"Not all of us agree with the Hegemony's decision to join the Federation. Additionally…" he paused, watching the breakers, looking uncertain.
"Additionally?" Jim asked.
"Many Gorn find humanoids repulsive." He looked down, apologetic.
Jim laughed. "On our mission we've met many life forms that found our physical appearance strange and we have been... surprised by some that we have seen. It's natural, I think, but the ideal thing is to get past our physical differences."
The sun had set entirely and the sky was beginning to darken, stars appeared in the deep purples and blues.
"Do you find me repulsive, Captain?" Gerald asked, one of those silvery eyes swiveling once again to regard Jim.
Jim smiled at his own reflection there, the colors of the sky and the dark sea and a particular glimmer that he'd come to recognize as Gerald's own.
"I recognize your differences as you surely recognize mine, but just as different cultures may have their own ideas of beauty, so might different individuals, and I must tell you, Gerald, that you have the most stunning eyes, especially now, with the starlight shining in them." He reached out slowly, in case Gerald would rather avoid the contact, and slid one arm around his broad shoulders and leaned forward and kissed his cheek, scaly skin cool but surprisingly soft and smooth, like the snakes he would catch in the cornfields in Iowa as a boy.
Jim sat back. He knew that Gorn could not blush, but Gerald leaned into him, and when Jim reached out his other hand, Gerald took it.
"Do you have a mate on your planet, Gerald?"
Gerald sighed, a deep, resonating hum that felt like contentment. "A mate is not necessary for a Gorn to reproduce."
"But a companion, someone to share your life with?"
"I do not. Do you, Jim?"
"Yes," Jim said, and Gerald turned his head to regard him as Jim continued. "My ship. She is my constant companion." He looked up. "Even now, orbiting out there, she's waiting for me."
Gerald nodded, understanding. "It is the same for me."
Jim smiled. "Perhaps soon enough we will once again dock in the same port."
"Perhaps," Gerald said, and squeezed Jim's hand as the waves crashed on the shore and night fell utterly.