Jerome Bixby’s original script for “Day of the Dove” ended with the Enterprise and Klingon crews singing songs and staging a peace mark to rid themselves of the alien invader. The production staff told the writer that such histrionics were unnecessary to sell the finale.
Fill: Imagine your older brother James Kirk finding out you’re dating Pavel Chekov.
“Wait! (y/n) hold on a second!” Jimmy shouted after you, following as you stormed down the corridors of the USS Enterprise.
“Go fuck yourself, Jimmy!” You shouted right back over your shoulder, making several yeoman stare.
“Officer Kirk I order you to stop.” Every grain of your being resisted, but god dammit you were still in Starfleet and the dumb fuck that was your brother was the captain.
Of course he was only your half brother, but that was beside the point.
So you stopped walking, and turned on your heel to meet him head on.
“Please, (y/n), try to understand-”
“You threatened the life of my boyfriend and heavily implied that you would boot him off the fucking ship!” Your voice was shrill with rage, and Jimmy had the decency to look sorry, but not enough for your taste.
“I just found out he was fucking my sister!” A woman gasped and you turned around.
“Get the hell out of here!” And the group dispersed- you sighed and looked at Jimmy; he’d always been your protector back in Iowa, the stable figure in your life after Sam ran off and Mom couldn’t take looking at us anymore and went off to explore the stars, leaving us with her douche of a husband.
“We haven’t done anything like that, Jim. He’s nothing but the perfect gentleman- Christ, he’s younger than me by almost a year!”
“(y/N)…you don’t get it- you’re my sister. Even if Winona isn’t your Mom…” He touched your hair softly. “It’s hard for me, ok- the only thing I’ve ever been responsible for, in my life, was you. And now I’m a Captain. And then I find out my navigator is dating my sister…it’s hard.” He finished lamely.
Neither of you had ever been good with words.
“Jimmy, I like Pasha. I really do. He treats me like a person; not the sister of James T. Kirk, not the bastard daughter of George Kirk, just…me.” He sighed adn ran a hand through his golden hair.
“Do you love him?” You blushed.
“I…I think so. Even if I don’t, Jim, the fact is that he’s nothing but sweet, and he didn’t deserve the way that you treated him.”
“Well, I was a little excited.”
“How’d you find out, anyhow?”
“Spock pointed out to me the increasing frequency inwhich you two touched one another, and the closeness of the both of you in the last week and a half.” You nodded.
“Ah, I see. Remind me to put ham in all the replicator recipes that he likes.”
“Fine. Apologize to Pasha, please?”
“Only if you tell me the next time you date someone under my command.”