Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It is hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys!
Last week Trip and T’Pol tried to figure stuff out. This week, they take it a step – or a saying – further…this one’s pretty long, but I had fun with Kathi’s word, ‘horse’s’ – pretty much everything in this snippet is brand new material! Thanks, WIPpet Mistress!
Will Trip be able to explain slang toT’Pol? Do they both have secret agendas? Read on!
- Today is December 17, 2014.
- My simple math: 18 paragraphs, with lots of quick dialogue, and one added as a December treat (one shabbos candle; one star; one snowflake; one month to go till 2015, one saying, or another…your choice!)
Add-on scene for the pilot episode: “Broken Bow Part 1”. I‘ve done my best to extrapolate without violating series canon.
“So, you like being in the company of a horse’s ass, then?” I whispered it so softly, I wasn’t even sure I’d made a sound, but T’Pol turned to face me again, the frown right where I thought it would be. Figuring her out was promising to be even more fun than figuring out that fancy Warp Five engine up on Enterprise.
“Is ‘a horse’s ass’ analogous to a ‘jackass’, Trip?” She raised a brow at me, and tipped her head a little, and I’d be damned if it didn’t look like she had a bright little glimmer in her eyes while she waited for her answer. Was I really gonna finally get lucky enough to have a woman I wanted to figure out think I was worth figuring out, too? But then I remembered that she was going to be gone, as soon as we got that huge Klingon fellow back to his own people. She’d be at the damned Vulcan Consulate, where protocol said she had to stay put, not even go out for a few minutes. They sure as hell weren’t going to let her keep in touch with a human engineer…
Unless I could figure out a way to make her want to stay, the Cap’n agree to keeping her around – and the damned Vulcan High Command to assign her to us permanently…
“If you are attempting to discover the lower threshold of my auditory range, you have done so.”
“What – oh. No, I didn’t say anything – I kinda got to thinking…” But I couldn’t tell her, not yet. I figured we needed to actually get to bed with each other, first, spend some quality time where she could let go the way she seemed to want to, at least sometimes.
“Does my query truly require so much analysis?”
“Your query -?” Damn, I’d gotten distracted by plotting to keep her here; what the hell had she asked me?
“Are the terms ‘a horse’s ass’and ‘jackass’ analogous?”
“Oh. Right. Well, yes and no, I guess. I’m pretty sure a ‘jackass’ was actually a term for a male donkey, originally. A ‘horse’s ass’ is technically the – well, the rump of the horse.” I patted my own backside for effect. “But, when they’re used to describe behavior, they mean pretty much the same thing.”
“I fail to see the logic in the terminology.” That glimmer was still in her eyes, and I suddenly got the idea that she might just be indulging her ‘fascination’ with me, too.
“Maybe that’s because it’s not ‘terminology’, and it’s not supposed to be logical. They’re just sayings, T’Pol – you know, idioms. Figures of speech. Expressions.” She just looked at me, her face never changing, as though maybe she was waiting for me to start making sense. It might be a long wait, sweetheart…but I was damned sure gonna try to teach her something; make good use of every chance for inter-species understanding I could. “There are a lot of sayings with horses in them, maybe because they were an important part of our history.”
“You can lead a horse to water; but you can’t make him drink. Getting up on your high horse. A herd of wild horses couldn’t keep me away. Horsefeathers. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Horse sense. That’s a horse of a different color. Dark horse. Don’t beat a dead horse. I could eat a horse – ”
“I believe I have heard enough. Does each of these – figures of speech – carry some significance, to humans?”
“Well, it’s kind of cultural; informal language isn’t the same as formal. People from different areas use different expressions. Malcolm, Travis, and Hoshi all use some I’m not used to, because they grew up in different places. It’s not an exact science, or a science at all, but, if you understand the expression someone’s using, it gives you a better sense of what they mean, without them needing to explain.”
“It seems a most -inexact method of communication. There is no such confusion, in Vulcan.” She looked like she was trying to figure out if that was a good thing, or not. Maybe she was fascinated by slang- wouldn’t that be something, with the way she talked?
“You mean, there aren’t any idioms, at all?” She shook her head a little, and I tried to imagine what that would be like, but couldn’t. Or maybe I could – a whole planet of people who sounded like living computers, the way she sometimes did, at least before we got locked in here. “I guess we’ve got a lot to learn about each other’s cultures,” I said. “I’m looking forward to having the chance to figure it out with you.”
“Perhaps at least some of the ‘figuring out’ could be done upon a comfortable bed, and behind a door that can be locked.” She’d been still, this whole time, but now she started to quiver again – and her scent and her eyes spoke another type of language entirely. One I thought I could spend about a lifetime getting to know…
Did T’Pol just proposition Trip?! Will they find the elusive bed and door, and the time to use them to figure each other out?
Come back next week to find out more!