In a world not our own

Curiousness can be foolish

A Trekker, who happened to be the son of a billionaire, let Jim and Co stay at a rather expensive hotel sweet that had several rooms. It had a nice balcony, a pretty brilliant fireplace, slipperly wooden floor (that would be slippery if one had walked around in slippers with a easily sent-forward-sole that did not keep the person in balance), a couple rugs, a staircase leading upstairs, and it basically had a mix of the original Leverage Headquarters mixed with a wealthy person's city slicker hide out.

A couple Trekkies screamed running down the stairs trampling over one another with red faces and beads of sweat coming down their faces. They were rushing to the wide gray doors. The doors were right across from the kitchen, the coat rack, the welcome mat, and the shoe seating arrangement. The men got their shoes on lickedly split. Their feet had made loud sounds as had their commotion in the wide room with decorations and furniture. That commotion caught the attention of Spock and Jim, who were least to say 'unamused' by the panic and hysteria over the delivery that a living plant was undergoing. Naturally, far as everyone was concerned, plants had pollen and seeds that grew or developed in various places exchanged through various ways.

Sam Witherton came down the stairs calling for what could be assumed his friends.

"Come on!" Witherton said. "This is history! Plant repopulation history--"

"Screw history and Star Trek!" Came the much shorter boy grasping at his bleeding hand. "I am unfriending you on Facebook!"

The much shorter boy went through the open doors.

"Facebook?" Came the two Star Fleet Officer's first question.

Witherton sighed, head low.

"Don't bother," Witherton said. "It ruins your life."

"I need four pots--no, make that six!" McCoy shouted. "And a lot of soil!"

* *

While Witherton and Spock were at the store getting some plant related materials, Jim was looking over the crying and mewing pairs of Tigerliona's that had paw like shape leaves. The mother was licking at the little ones curled up beside her exposed milk related organs (That had to be taken out of the pot due to delivery). They had slow growing roots however they needed to be given a little 'playpen' to grow in. Jim was so surprised to see the mother so calm and content because just a few minutes ago she was a blazing beast fighting with them. She had teeth that could kill, literletly, and her body had become dotted in thorns. Now why didn't they ever come up when they were under the attack of tribbles?

Did the tribbles attack during the night when the creatures were fast asleep?

Perhaps they need to be pregnant in order to be very threatening all the time.

"Jim, what is that?" McCoy asked, staring at the thin and flat object.

"A Ipad," Jim was tapping on the LED screen. "Sp--No,no, no, I am not search for Spoiled little 'brats'."

His fingers were way too big for the Ipad.

"That reminds me of a Padd," McCoy remarked. "This is. . . different though. What is that on the screen?"

"A webpage," Jim said, typing it in again. "This is a search bar. I wonder why Steve Jobs never lived past the Eugenics wars. He would have benefited the use of technology and expanded our use."

"Perhaps he didn't meet the expectations." McCoy muttered.

The screen popped up a mobile page.

"Oh look,Spock's got that headgear on in one of those images." Jim smiled, warmly, recalling the comment 'I feel pleasure at the sound of your voice, captain.' made by Spock.