Down Time

"Come on, now—jump."

The lighting in Kirk's cabin was set on evening mode, therapeutically designed to promote human relaxation. Yet Kirk could feel his blood pressure steadily mounting as Spock sat across the table from him, as impervious as Vulcan granite. Trying to move things along in a friendly manner, Kirk pointed to his own red game piece on the old-fashioned, paper-stock board. "Right there, Spock. Jump it."

"But then you will jump two of mine," Spock objected.

"Yes. Exactly. That's the whole point."

"But if I choose not to…"

"You don't have a choice, if I say so."

"If you say so." Spock settled back in his chair, one angular brow rising. "Is this an order, Captain?"

Kirk drew a deep breath. "No, Spock. It's not an order. Those are the rules."

"Then…you are saying that the rules of this game change according to your personal whim."

Kirk felt the last thread of his patience fraying. "No. The choice is written into the official rules. Trust me on this." But Spock stared down at the board with suspicion. And just sat there. "Well? Are you going to jump my man or not?"

Spock glanced up, clearly astonished. "Then I do have a choice?"

"No, Spock—I only meant…" But what was the use of even trying to explain when the Vulcan took every damn word so literally?

"Jim," Spock said, deadly serious as always, "I am not at all sure that you understand this game."

Kirk resisted a sudden urge to smack him—hard. "For your information, my uncle Lem taught me to play when I was barely out of short pants."

The Vulcan eyes opened considerably wider. "Barely out of your pants? Are you telling me that you played this game in a partial state of—"

That did it. "Never mind the pants!" Kirk snapped. "Quit stalling! You're going to lose and you know it! I already have three kings!"

"There is no reason," Spock said levelly, "to raise your voice." Great. Deep down in that unemotional heart, he was wounded by Kirk's tirade, though of course he would never admit it. Turning his attention to the game, he said in a very subdued voice, "Three kings. That is not logical. A board—just as a kingdom—should have only one."

"Just you watch. I'll have four of them in a minute. Now jump…my…man."

At last Spock slowly reached out, quietly remarking—one might almost say muttering—as he did, "This is not at all like chess."

Kirk wasted no time leaping his way across the board. Neatly stacking Spock's captured men, he sat back and said, "You're right—this is checkers. Now king me."

Doctor McCoy, who had been gleefully observing the match from a comfortable chair, clasped his hands behind his head, stretched out his legs and declared, "I get to play the loser."

oooOOooo

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