Star Trek ficlet: Taste the Summer [Kirk/McCoy, general]
Title: Taste the Summer Author: celandineb Fandom: Star Trek XI Pairing: Kirk/McCoy Rating: general Length: 866 words Warnings: uh, schmoop, I guess Summary: Leonard hadn't planned on spending one of their precious days of leave this way, but... Note: For angela_snape, who wanted Kirk/Bones, watermelon. Title taken from the Duran Duran song of the same name.
The late-summer sun beat down, heightening the smells that hung in the air: straw and cow manure, popcorn and barbecue, metal and sweat.
"It'll be fun," Jim had coaxed, and Leonard had given in as he so often did, agreeing to spend one of their precious days of leave at the county fair here in eastern Iowa.
It wasn't bad, he admitted. Jim had known better than to try to persuade him onto the Whirling Dervish, a fun fair ride that looked like an enormous metal octopus, with arms that went up and down, spinning the four-person cars at their ends, as the entire contraption turned 'round and 'round. Leonard would have been sick before it completed the first revolution. Instead he held the giant stuffed frog that Jim had already won at a booth by tossing balls into fish bowls, and had then presented to Leonard triumphantly. What he was going to do with it, he didn't know; Joanna was too old for such things. Perhaps he could donate it to a hospital.
"Hey, there's a watermelon-eating contest at two o'clock," Jim said when he got off the ride, looking at the program he had somehow managed to acquire.
"Let me guess, you want to compete," said Leonard.
"Actually, I just had in mind watching, but maybe they're still accepting entries. We can find out." Jim gave a smile of pure mischief, looking like the boy who had doubtless attended this fair every year of his childhood. "Thanks for the suggestion."
Leonard followed Jim to the appointed location, which thankfully was an open-sided tent, so that both contestants and audience could be in the shade. Along the way Jim stopped in front of a stall selling funnel cakes, sniffing the scent of fried dough wistfully, but refrained from buying one when Leonard reminded him that if he planned to make a good showing in the watermelon contest, he'd better not eat anything else beforehand.
The judge agreed that Jim's ownership of the old farmhouse, even if he didn't live there, constituted sufficient legal residency for him to sign up as a competitor. They killed the couple of hours before the contest began wandering around the rest of the fair. Leonard rather enjoyed the horses in the animal barns, although it took some time to get the smell of the pigs out of his nose sufficiently so that he was ready to have some lunch. Jim looked longingly at his pulled pork sandwich and ear of corn on a stick, but manfully refrained from doing more than stealing a bite or two.
At a few minutes before two o'clock, they returned to the watermelon tent. Jim took his place at the contestants' tables, looking over to find Leonard in the crowd and smiling at him.
"Now, this is a timed competition," the judge announced. "You have ten minutes to eat as many slices of watermelon as you can. The one who eats the most in that time, wins. I might add that we were kind to you gentlemen and ladies," he nodded at the several women competing, "and have seedless melons for you, so you won't be slowed down by having to take seeds out. Our volunteers will make sure that the trays of melon slices stay full. Be sure to put your rinds in your own bowl, as counting them is how we tell the winner. Any questions?"
No one moved.
"All right then. Ready – set – go!"
Leonard saw the judge press the button on a stopwatch as two dozen pairs of hands reached simultaneously for as many slices of watermelon. He was thankful that it was a timed competition, rather than an all-you-can-eat, last-man-standing type. Less medically dangerous, although watermelon of course was innocuous compared with anything involving liquor.
Jim seemed to be making a decent showing, although Leonard couldn't keep track of all the other contestants well enough to be certain. He was clearly enjoying himself, regardless, glancing around the tent with an enormous grin every time he paused to reach for another slice.
When the ten minutes were up, there was a pause while all the rinds were counted.
"And we have the results!" announced the judge. "To begin with our third-place winner, a fellow who came an awfully long way to compete, I understand, it's Jim Kirk of Riverside."
Leonard applauded. He listened politely to the pronouncements of the second and first place winners, and the clapping and a few raucous calls that followed, then pushed through the dispersing crowd to Jim.
"Didn't think I could do it." Jim patted his stomach. "Sam and I used to try to see who could eat the most melon the fastest; he was enough bigger that he usually won, but it was sure fun trying."
"How do you feel?" Leonard asked gruffly.
"Oh, just fine. I think in an hour or two I'll be ready for something a little more substantial, though."
"Mr. Kirk? Here's your ribbon," the judge interrupted.
"Let's put it on your frog," said Jim, reaching out.
Leonard laughed and let him.
Yes, smells and noise and heat and all, going to the county fair with Jim was unquestionably a good time.