Disclaimer etc.: see 1st part.
A special thanks to itsonlyme for numbers 258-261 (I tweaked them a little – hope you don't mind).
And I apologise, again, for the massively long wait between updates. RL has been mad, and the Muse vanished. -growls at Muse- But yeah.
R&R is a boon sent from above, and enjoy!
Things Not To Do On the NX-01
Phlox was smiling widely as he bounced his way into the Mess Hall, despite the early hour. He'd had quite an enjoyable night – Commander Tucker was once again confined to Sickbay, at the insistence of both Captain Archer and Commander T'Pol, and the blond engineer had developed quite a case of cabin fever – purposefully, Phlox was quite sure.
So the good doctor had had to remain awake all night – not that he could sleep anyway; not with that horrendous off-key singing.
He'd finally resorted to warbling a little ditty of his own, and he'd left Trip curled up on a bio-bed, moaning and clutching his ears in agony, as he went to visit Chef and pick up a little something for breakfast.
It was there that he noticed the infamous List had grown.
251. Admiral Gardner is not god, no matter what Captain Archer says.
Indeed, Phlox had noticed the Captain mumbling prayers to Gardner under his breath once before – a strange development, to say the least. He would have expected Archer's idol to be someone like Zephram Cochrane, or his father, but no. The Captain appeared to have fixated on the good Admiral.
Phlox wondered if Archer was in fact, as the human saying went, "in the closet". That would explain his penchant for physical contact with a certain Chief Engineer.
He resolved to warn T'Pol – he didn't think the Vulcan would take kindly to her commanding officer encroaching on her territory.
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It was lunchtime before the next one made its appearance.
252. 'Shipper wars are heavily discouraged.
Phlox's forehead furrowed, and he turned to Hoshi. " 'Shipper wars?" he questioned.
Sato smirked. "It's an old Earth term," she explained. "It means someone who supports a particular relationship in a fictional media." She shook black hair back over one shoulder and glanced up at the List. "But sometimes it can get a bit… heated between people who 'ship one couple and people who 'ship another."
Understanding began to dawn on Phlox. "Ah…"
"They resort to all sorts of weird ways of proving the supremacy of their OTP, and no-one else's."
"OTP?"
"Oh, sorry. One True Pairing."
"Ah."
Hoshi nodded. "I can't remember what this one was from, but it got very heated."
"And this would be why I had Captain Archer in my Sickbay with a broken nose this morning?" Phlox queried.
She nodded again. "And it would also be why Malcolm is currently locked up in the Brig for assaulting a superior officer."
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The next rule was… intriguing, to say the least.
253. Duct tape is not a suitable uniform choice.
Trip, stood by the Denobulan's side, looked pale. "Oh God…" he mumbled, before starting to back slowly away from the List, as if it might bite him. "Oh God, oh God…"
Phlox watched him go with a slightly bemused expression on his face as Trip started clawing at his eyes.
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The next rule was in the same vein, and written in Commander Tucker's handwriting. Except it looked as though the engineer had been shaking violently whilst writing it – the ink was all over the place.
254. You can't fix a warp drive with duct tape. Don't try.
Phlox frowned. His friend seemed to have quite a problem with this 'duct tape'. He decided to ask T'Pol about it – she'd know.
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255. "When in doubt, break out the duct tape" is not our motto, official or otherwise!
The good doctor frowned, again. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently. He rooted around in his pocket, coming up with a fluff-covered pen. He pulled the lid off, and began to write.
256. May I ask what this ship's obsession with "duct tape" is?
A fair question, he admitted to himself.
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257. Phlox, you don't wanna know.
Phlox's eyebrows shot up.
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Malcolm was released from the Brig (finally, amidst much mutterings from Jon), and, on the next day, Phlox met him at the List. Surveying the Armoury Officer's slightly-singed uniform, the Denobulan looked quizzically at Reed.
At the doctor's unspoken question, Malcolm sighed heavily. "I believe McArthur has found himself a new partner-in-crime," he explained.
"Lieutenant?"
"One of the Crewmen in the Armoury," Malcolm said. "Crewman Harriman." He shuddered.
Phlox hid a smile. "What'd he do?"
In answer, Malcolm turned to the List, and began to write.
258. Crewman Harriman + fire is a very, very bad idea.
259. Crewman Harriman + alcohol is an even worse idea.
260. Crewman Harriman + fire + alcohol means a very pissed off Lieutenant Reed!
A snaked in from over Malcolm's shoulder and took the pen. Phlox glanced back, startled, and came face-to-face with a very weary-looking Trip. The engineer began to write.
261. Serenading Commander Tucker with Beatles music when he hasn't had coffee. Just no
Malcolm smirked. "Commander?"
Trip groaned. "Mal, I told you letting Harriman and McArthur anywhere near each other was a bad idea." He paused. "A very bad idea."
Phlox chuckled, and the two Starfleet crewmembers exchanged a world-weary glance.
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Hoshi was writing the next one up as Phlox entered the Mess – he made straight for her, and read the next addition to the List over her shoulder.
262. I do not have "super wacky amazing SuperPowers™!"
Phlox glanced at Sato. She pouted. "Malcolm made me write it up," she complained. Then she smirked. "He liked it though."
The Ensign turned away and made her way out of the Mess, whistling.
Phlox stared after her, trying desperately to erase that mental image from his mind.
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A hostage situation and embarrassing interplanetary incident later, Jon was at the List, thick black felt tip in hand. He was beetroot red, Phlox noticed, as the good doctor peered over the Captain's shoulder at his addition.
263. When the Captain is in the middle of delicate negotiations on the Bridge with the latest hostile alien, you may not perform a pole dance in the background, yelling, "Yeah Jonny, you tell the b-----d!"
Archer leaned his forehead against the wall beside the List. "McArthur," he groaned. "Why?"
Phlox patted the Captain's shoulder in a comradely fashion. He sympathised. The Scottish crewman's antics had resulted in the Captain being transported directly off the Bridge and into the bowels of that same hostile alien's ship.
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There had been rejoicing in the Armoury recently – something to do with a new shipment of weaponry from Starfleet Command. The Starfleet Security boys and the MACOs had teamed up and thrown a massive rave in the Armoury, much to Jon's chagrin.
But that wasn't what had made the next rule.
264. Don't let Lieutenant Reed and/or Major O'Neill at the whisky.
Phlox grinned his disturbingly wide grin. Harriman and McArthur—the two troublemakers were now best friends, unfortunately for the rest of the crew—had managed to sneak several large bottles of whisky into the hands of the two men.
Reed and O'Neill had ended up knocking on Trip's door at two in the morning, asking, while completely hammered, if they could have a "private word" with T'Pol.
Trip had slammed the door on them, and then called Security.
Unfortunately the entire Security contingent were drunk too.
So he'd called round some of his burliest engineers and had the pair of them dragged to the Brig. And then, when he'd found out who'd been to blame, he'd had them dragged to the Brig as well.
The doctor smiled happily. He loved this ship.
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265. Travis, you are not the Stig.
Phlox blinked.
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266. 'Ensign' does not equate to 'Empress'.
Phlox raised one eyebrow and turned to Reed (released from the Brig, again). "Lieutenant?"
Malcolm smirked. "Hoshi had a strange dream – she's now convinced she's an Empress in an alternate reality, and subsequently refuses to answer to anything but 'Empress Sato'." The smirk blossomed into a full-out grin. "The look the Captain gets is very entertaining – crimson has nothing on him."
Phlox shook his head, fighting the smile that was threatening to split his face in two.
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The Denobulan was with T'Pol when he saw the next one – up the day after Earth had been saved from alien invasion, again.
267. Movies marathons the night before a mission of vital importance to Earth's security are stupid.
Phlox shook his head in bemusement. "The things these humans will do," he mused, expecting a comment in agreement from his Vulcan companion.
She said nothing.
He glanced over at her. Her lips were curved in an honest-to-God smirk.
"T'Pol?"
She didn't answer, just turned tail and walked away, hands clasped at the small of her back, to Commander Tucker, who was waiting by the door.
Trip smirked at Phlox and then he and T'Pol left the Mess.
Phlox was flummoxed. The engineer was having a huge affect on T'Pol. 'Movie marathons'? Oh, my.
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Phlox found himself writing the next rule up, a few days later.
268. You cannot fire Doctor Phlox's animals.
'Batman and Robin' (as the senior officers had taken to calling McArthur and Harriman) had been at it again – hanging around in Sickbay and telling his Pyrithian Bat that she had been "neglecting her duties" and that they'd "have to let her go".
He rolled his eyes in exasperation.
A hand plucked the pen from his grasp and scribbled up two words.
269. Or Tiddles.
Phlox glanced at Henderson, and the two shared a long-suffering look.
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All Phlox knew was that Hoshi had got some new shoes.
270. "Mmm, bright red, ankle-high Converse…" is not a suitable response when asked a question by your Captain.
Jon, stood beside the Denobulan, groaned. "Do you have any idea how irritating that is?" he asked, pain flooding his voice.
"I, ah, can't say I do, actually," Phlox answered.
"Hmm." Jon looked up at the ceiling, as if praying for some ancient god's deliverance. "Y'know, I miss the days when this ship was purely serious – flying through the universe as scientists and explorers. When we had no prank wars, no alien sabretooth tigers, and no Batman and Robin."
Phlox smiled gently. "No, you don't."
Jon glanced back at the Denobulan, and grinned. "You're right. No, I don't."
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