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A Pure Paragon

Summary:

A certain movie character reminds Hamish and Ruby of their illustrious leader.

Notes:

The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

Work Text:

Boredom seemed a silly thing to complain about. But it was insidious, eating away at the mind and body day by day as a river ate away at the rock, leaving too much time for doubts and despair to creep in. In their current situation it had to be fought against consciously, daily, especially when their minds and bodies were made to be so active.

Khan had been at the gym; he returned to the cabin and showered, then joined Hamish and Ruby in the main room. They were propped up on the bed watching a video projected on the opposite wall, while also keeping their hands occupied with crafts—Ruby was making another sock animal, and Hamish was knitting something. Khan had no interest in making soft toys, but creating warm clothing from raw fibers would be a useful skill in their new home (unless of course it was a very warm place), so he decided to learn it. Actually he most wanted to become proficient at animal husbandry, horticulture, and woodworking, but for the moment they seemed impractical activities aboard a starship.

Khan watched Hamish knit for a moment, then picked up a second pair of needles and a new ball of yarn, and began trying to imitate him. If he saw Hamish roll his eyes when he noticed Khan’s actions, he ignored it. Augments were the best at ignoring things.

Although, after a while, once he’d gotten the hang of the knitting thing, he began to pay more attention to the video, and he grimaced at his people’s taste. “I fail to understand what can be gained from this,” he announced.

“Knitting?” Hamish asked innocently, deliberately misunderstanding him.

“This video,” Khan specified. “It’s so juvenile and shallow.”

“I think the animation is amazing,” Hamish opined. “Most of that is still hand-drawn. I wonder if I could do that.”

“The repetition would be tedious,” Khan predicted. And not in an ultimately useful way, as with knitting a sweater.

“It’s based on an old fairytale, Beauty and the Beast,” Ruby informed him. “Do you know that one?”

“Of course.”

Hamish and Ruby glanced at each other knowingly. Of course Khan knew it. “Well, I like the songs, too,” she added stoutly.

“Simplistic,” Khan judged. He wouldn’t make them turn it off, though; he just wanted them to know what he thought of it.

No one’s slick as Gaston

No one’s quick as Gaston

No one’s neck’s as incredibly thick as Gaston’s

For there’s no man in town half as manly

Perfect, a pure paragon!

Ruby’s eyes slid sideways and met Hamish’s, both of them thinking the same thing, and they felt giggles erupting in their chests that were stifled quickly.

The movement did not go unnoticed by Khan, who turned his attention to the video again to see what was so amusing. Nothing but an exaggerated musical number which served to describe one of the characters, without subtlety.

No one hits like Gaston

Matches wits like Gaston

In a spitting match nobody spits like Gaston

I’m especially good at expectorating!

A small squeak escaped from Ruby, and then she and Hamish were done for, laughing until their eyes watered and their sides hurt and they’d probably set off several alarms for those watching them.

“What’s so funny?” Khan wanted to know, and frowned when his only response was more mad giggles. They had definitely been cooped up in here for too long.

**

“Could you two have this argument somewhere else?” McCoy suggested with exasperation, trying to concentrate on his work.

I’m not arguing,” Khan claimed immediately. “I’m merely offering my services.”

“Your services—as a diplomat?” Kirk sputtered in return. “No. Thanks. No,” he decided, rescinding the thanks. “It’s ridiculous!”

Khan was not put off by this. “I have years of experience in diplomacy,” he insisted. “I’m certainly far superior than—“

“You started wars!” Kirk was forced to point out.

“My diplomacy skills are superb,” Khan maintained, “though not always appreciated by those who—“

Hamish hummed something under his breath, and Ruby giggled. This was sufficiently out of place that Khan cut himself off and looked over at them, trying to place the tune. He thought it came from one of the juvenile entertainments they’d been watching, which his subconscious had naturally retained and processed. In the context of the entire story the song’s mockery of the character’s boastfulness was obvious.

“Are you making fun of me?” Khan asked Hamish curiously.

Hamish looked like he really wanted to say no, but that would be foolish. “Yeah, a little bit,” he admitted.

Khan was certain there were more productive things he could be doing with his time, especially in Sickbay, but he wasn’t a micromanager. “Fine,” he allowed, and saw everyone, including the humans, relax. “I can take a joke. Better. Than. Anyone.” He turned back to Kirk and waited a beat, and was rewarded with the sound of Hamish and Ruby bursting into laughter. It was not an unpleasant noise, really. Kirk and McCoy seemed to enjoy it as well, though Kirk admirably attempted to hide his smile. “As I was saying, my diplomatic record is unmatched…”

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