#Its a course in Starfleet Academy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

geminiwritten · 16 days ago

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this means war ; bones

fandom: star trek

pairing: bones x reader

summary: based on this song but incredibly drawn out and long winded (you're reuniting with the enterprise crew for jim's birthday almost six months after leaving for a job at the academy because of a messy breakup)

notes: hey, i'm back! life has been super busy but i was listening to this song a few months ago and decided that i had to write something for it... and then a few months and thousands of words later... here you go! it is a little bit messy, but i can't not post it. let me know what you think! please!

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual references (i promise i am working on writing actual smut and not this fade to black crap), and lots of words i'm sorry if it sucks

word count: 10749 (i have no self control)

The birth date of James Tiberius Kirk is either a taboo subject not to be mentioned or alluded to for the entire month of March, or an intergalactic holiday that must be celebrated for a full two weeks straight. This year, it’s a celebration. The USS Enterprise is docked at Starbase Yorktown after doubling back due to an unfortunate encounter in unfriendly space, but not even a month's setback on the starship’s five-year journey could put a damper on her captain’s birthday. In fact, the party itself was arranged in all its grandeur after the unlucky incident, seeing that shore leave provided the perfect opportunity to drink and be merry in celebration of Jim’s ageing.

So it was your best friend’s birthday celebrations that finally dragged you out of your dark and comforting office at Starfleet Academy for the first time in four months, all the way to Starbase Yorktown. It was a long journey, which you were thankful for, because despite it being almost half of a year since you left your post on the USS Enterprise, you’re still not sure if you’re ready to face her crew again. Of course you miss them, they were your closest friends long before the Enterprise’s five-year assignment, but when Starfleet made you an offer you couldn’t refuse, well... you couldn’t refuse it. Or at least, that was the story you stuck to when your friends begged you to stay. It most definitely had absolutely nothing to do with a saga of heartbreak and animosity.

“Okay, breathe,” you tell your reflection, watching the colour in your cheeks deepen the more you reminisce. The black dress you’re wearing is perfectly complimentary, accentuating all the right parts and boosting your confidence just enough to get you out the door. The hallway wasn’t too difficult, but the elevator descent awakens the anxious butterflies in your stomach, and the hotel lobby has your heartrate rising with every click of your heels against the polished marble floor.

“This is ridiculous,” you sigh, earning a few odd glances from passersby as you exit the hotel’s main doors. The artificial air outside is warm and the sky mimics a pink and orange sunset that casts long shadows on the pavement. You watch your own move as you head toward the party venue; a Federation building purpose-built for conferences and training seminars that Jim had somehow convinced someone to let him use. You often forget how respected the captain really is.

The walk isn’t long, and before you can even attempt to quell the nausea rising up from your stomach, you find yourself standing in the foyer of the building. The reception desk is empty except for a small sign atop it with an arrow pointing down the corridor, reading ‘Captain Kirk’s Birthday Extravaganza’. You have to force your feet to move in the direction of the music and chatter, despite every fibre of your being telling you to turn around.

The doors to the room are open, so you have absolutely no time to steel your nerves before the first person recognises you. A cadet from the MedBay, of course, you spent enough of your time there for every medical crew member to know who you are. His face is a mixture of confusion and delight as he calls out your name, “Y/N!”

You plaster on a smile, push your shoulders back, and walk into the party.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” the cadet, Trevor, says, “Doctor McCoy said you-” Before he can finish his sentence, another body slams into yours, knocking the breath out of you and almost knocking you clean off your feet.

You stumble back but catch yourself, suddenly wrapped in the familiar smell of wild berry scented shampoo with a ponytail full of brown hair in your face. You hug her back, fighting tears as you mumble into her hair, “Nyota.”

“I can’t believe you came!” she says as she pulls away, her own eyes glassy with moisture, “how long did it take to get here?”

“Not that long,” you shrug, “and it was nice to see the stars again.”

She frowns, “you can still see the stars from the academy.”

“Not from behind my desk, you can’t,” you say through a forced smile, trying to make your sad reality sound like a jest. You truly did hate your dark little office; the only window was facing right at a brick wall of the next building and one of the two ceiling lights had died within a month of you moving in. It was always dark, always cold, and so far from anyone else, you often felt as if you were living in an apocalyptic world.

You only catch a glimpse of Nyota’s sympathetic stare before you’re wrapped in another pair of arms. “Y/N!” Jim exclaims, right into your ear, “you’re here!”

Tears threaten to fall once again as you hug your used-to-be captain back. “I’m here,” you mutter into his shirt.

He pulls back, his blue eyes practically glowing as he takes you in, “you look incredible.”

“Thanks,” your cheeks warm, “not looking so bad yourself, Captain.”

He chuckles, “you can’t call me that anymore, remember. You’re not a part of my crew.”

You know he’s only joking, but the words still cause a small fissure in your already fragile heart. “You’re still a captain, and didn’t you promise to keep my post vacant?”

His previously easy smile falters, but only slightly. “I did, in case you change your mind,” he sighs, “but only for six months.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t hold the position longer than six months,” he puts a hand on your shoulder as if he’s giving you the worst news of your life, “if you decide to stay at the academy, I have to replace you.”

“Wait,” you frown up at him, “is that why you asked me to come, so you could tell me to officially sign off of the Enterprise?”

“No, of course not, I just-” he hesitates before sighing again, “let’s not talk about this now, okay? I invited you here because I miss you.” He pulls you back against his chest and you let yourself relax, allowing the familiarity of your best friend to soothe the fresh wave of anxiety coursing through your veins.

“Now,” as he pulls away, Nyota puts a flute of champagne in your hand, “there are a few people who would really like to see this gorgeous face.”

You roll your eyes as he slides you under one arm and walks further into the crowd. “Even though I know you’re talking about yourself,” you say, “I’ll still pretend I’m flattered.”

It doesn’t take long for the rest of your friends to realise you’re here. Sulu and Chekov are first, each wrapping you in a tight hug before Scotty appears. You didn’t expect him to be that emotional, but you find it difficult to hold back your own tears as he sniffles against your shoulder. Keenser isn’t far behind, holding another full glass for you and taking the empty one back to the bar, no doubt about to retrieve more drinks for himself and Mr. Scott.

The more you watch the grins on your friends’ faces, the more your heart aches to return to them. It feels as if you never left, aside from a few funny stories from the last couple of months that Jim reenacts for you with tipsy enthusiasm. You almost forget about the reason that nearly stopped you from being here; the reason your whole body wanted to turn and run with every inch closer you came to this place.

Almost forgot.

“Bones!” Jim exclaims, throwing his arms up and almost spilling his entire drink, “what took you so long?”

Your heart leaps into your throat, stopping your breath as fire spreads across every inch of your skin. You know your face must be glowing red, but you can’t help that, so you focus on keeping your expression calm as you try to remember how to breathe.

Leonard hesitates, his eyes lingering on you before he clears his throat and turns to Jim. “Sorry, medical emergency.”

Jim scoffs, “I can tell when you’re lying. You’re a very bad liar.”

Leonard takes the drink Sulu offers him and clinks it against Jim’s outstretched glass, “well, we can’t all be talented liars,” he glances quickly at you before turning back to the captain. “Happy birthday.”

His words punch you right in the chest, and you’re sure you can feel another piece of your heart break, but you can’t let it show. You tip the rest of your drink to your lips, sculling almost a full glass of champagne while the others take turns greeting Leonard. When you lower your empty glass, the group is standing in awkward silence, each of them watching either you or the doctor to see who will draw their weapon first.

You take a deep breath before meeting his eyes, offering a tight smile, “it’s nice to see you here.”

“Impolite would only be beneath us,” he remarks, before finishing his own drink in one gulp.

“It’s been what? Like, half a year,” you can barely hear your own words over the thrum of your heartbeat.

He considers you for a moment, his gaze tracing up and down your body before he response, “like nothing ever happened between us.”

Once again, your choke on your breath, his words not only hurting you but throwing fuel on the little flame of anger growing in the pit of your stomach.

“Another round?” Sulu asks suddenly, snatching the empty glass from your hand.

Chekov nods enthusiastically, “I will help you.”

As the two of them walk toward the bar, Scotty and Keenser shuffle away and strike up their own conversation, and Nyota mumbles something about Spock before disappearing into the crowd. You’re left with only Jim and Leonard.

“So,” you clear your throat, “how have you been?”

Like he said, impolite would be beneath you, and you can't let him know how much he hurt you. Even though, if he asked, you would tell him anything he wanted to hear because you can’t help the way you still feel about him. The way you know you’ll always feel about him, even if you’ll never know what actually happened between the two of you.

- 6 months & 2 weeks earlier -

Your boots hit the floor with force as you run down the corridor, narrowly dodging startled Enterprise crew until you reached the rear-most turbolift on the ship. Unable to contain your excitement, you continue mashing the button for the MedBay even as the lift descends, only stopping when the doors begin to open. You slip out as soon as the gap is wide enough and continue your run all the way through the MedBay toward Leonard’s office door.

You swipe your card and the door slides open, and you can’t help the way your heart leaps when you first see him. You’re not sure you will ever be used to the way he makes you feel.

“Len,” you exclaim, gasping for breath, “you won’t believe... I got it... the... the thing!”

He leans back in his desk chair, chuckling, “I gave you access to my office for emergencies.”

“This is an emergency,” you say between breaths, holding your chest with one hand while the other hits the button for the door to close.

“Are you going into cardiac arrest? Because you look like you’re going into cardiac arrest.”

You try to regulate your breathing as you give him your most unimpressed stare, “I just ran over half the ship, I’m allowed to be a little out of breath.”

He laughs again, “a little?”

“Would you stop being a smartass and let me speak,” you say as you round his desk and lean against it.

He pushes his chair back to properly look at you, a devilish grin curling his lips, telling you exactly where his mind had gone seeing you atop his desk.

“I had my meeting with the admiral,” you explain, “about the grant.”

His cheeky grin vanishes, replaced by an anticipatory frown as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees, “and?”

“They said yes.”

“They said yes?” he echoes, standing from his chair.

“They said yes!” you exclaim, jumping into his open arms and pressing your lips against his. It takes a moment for him to respond, but when he does, he kisses you back with fervour.

“You are incredible,” he mumbles against your mouth, “did you know that?”

You pull back giggling, “I know.”

“Did they have any questions?” he asks, “any conditions?”

“Nope, they loved it.”

"They loved you,” he says before kissing you again, muttering against your lips, “I love you.”

You freeze and your eyes snap open, staring up at him as his cheeks turn red. He hesitates before taking a step back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Didn’t mean it?”

“No, I-” he rubs the back of his neck, “I definitely mean it, I just don’t want you to think I expect you to feel the same way.”

You step forward to close the distance between you, “of course I love you,” you stretch onto your toes and press a kiss against his lips, “more than anything.”

His eyes darken and his hands grab your waist as he steps forward. You stumble back until your backside hits the desk, and before you realise what is happening, he lifts you onto it and positions himself between your legs. One hand stays on your waist while the other cups you jaw, “you locked the door?”

Your mind races with filthy thoughts as his thumb traces your bottom lip, and the best response you can must is a soft whisper, “not sure.”

He chuckles, “then we better hope there are no medical emergencies.”

You knew exactly how you looked as you leant against the back of the turbolift – your hair a mess, cheeks rosy, and lips swollen – but you didn’t care; you just had mind-blowing sex in your boyfriend's office. You nod politely at the two other lieutenants in the lift as you step out, unable to hold your giggles at their uneasy smiles once you turn down the hall.

Nyota was waiting for you in the mess hall, tucked into a small booth on the edge of the room with her nose almost pressed to her PADD as she scrutinised its content. You slide into the seat opposite her, “hey, sorry I’m late.”

She takes one look at you before smirking, “have fun?”

“Lots,” you reply with a grin.

She shuts off her PADD and slides it aside, “so, how did it go?”

“The sex, or?”

“You know what I mean,” she says, rolling her eyes.

You laugh before replying, “it was amazing, actually; I can’t believe how stressed I was for nothing. They listened to my whole pitch, asked all the questions that I had answers for, and then said yes.”

Although her smile is still wide, she doesn’t quite leap for joy the way you had when you ended your meeting with the admiral. You frown, “what?”

“I’m waiting for the ‘but’.”

“Who said there’s a ‘but’?”

Her smile turns sheepish, “Jim.”

"Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you sigh, “I told him to keep it to himself, because I-”

“Told them no?” she interrupts, “and you said you want to stay on the Enterprise despite their generous offer?” Her tone tells you that she already knows what you said, which was, in fact, the exact opposite of what she just said.

One tiny piece of information that you intentionally omitted when you celebrated with Leonard was that in order to win the admiral’s approval for the grant, you might have accidentally accepted a job offer back at the academy. In your defence, it was almost impossible not to say yes. You were asking some of the most senior offices in Starfleet for a huge quantity of additional resources in order to run a twelve-month biomechanical programme aboard the Enterprise. How were you supposed to know they would offer you a position at the academy? And how were you supposed to say no?

By the time you finish telling Nyota about your meeting with the admiral from start to finish the mess hall is much quieter, and you’re surprised at how late it really is when you check your communicator. There is a long, awkward pause while you wait for her to respond, and you begin to feel like a child waiting for their punishment.

“I can’t believe you said that,” Nyota sighs, resting her elbows on the table and holding her head in her hands, “you can’t just say something like that knowing you don’t mean it.”

“I know, I just freaked out.”

“Freaked out?” she echoes disapprovingly.

“Yes!” you snap, “it was awkward. What was I supposed to say?”

She rolls her eyes, “I don’t know, maybe ‘I’m flattered, but sorry’.”

“Nyota, seriously.”

“I am serious!” she exclaims, “you can’t just take something like that back.”

You sit back and cross your arms, “yes, I can.”

She mimics your body language, raising her brows, “how?”

“Jim is going to talk to him.”

She scoffs, “oh, great idea. You know everyone already thinks Jim favours you?”

“I know how it’s going to look,” you sigh, “but if it gets me out of this mess, I don’t care what anyone thinks about Jim and me.”

Her scowl softens ever so slightly, “so, you got what you wanted and now you’re just going to back out?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrug, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Your communicator chirps and buzzes on the table, breaking both of you out of the intense staring competition you hadn't realised you were in.

“You better hope so,” Nyota says as she slides out of the booth, “and pray they don’t reconsider the grant.”

You check your communicator as you reply, “it’s going to be fine, Nyota, they’ll understand.” There are no missed calls or alerts, but the time reminds you just how tired and ready for bed you are.

The two of you leave the mess hall, walking together until you come to Nyota’s quarters where she bids you a good night. You continue in the direction of your own residency, flipping open your communicator along the way and calling Leonard. You listen to the dial tone for almost a minute before giving up and deciding to wait until he calls you back. Once inside your quarters, you shed your uniform and jump in the shower, scrubbing the stress of the day off before wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel. You check your communicator to find no missed messages, so you try calling Leonard again. No luck.

After an hour of flicking through data on your PADD, you begin to worry. You try calling a third time before you realise how late it is and your panic spikes, so you slip into your shoes and shuffle out the door. The halls are empty as you make your way down to the MedBay, only to find it just as desolate with a single nightshift nurse idly sorting different bits of equipment.

Two more unanswered calls and another half-hour of walking through the quiet ship has your heart racing anxiously, but its late and there’s no one else you can call without being a nuisance and waking them up. You make your way back to your room, dragging your feet until you’re close enough to fall into your bed face first and let out a few tears before exhaustion takes over.

You barely sleep, spending most of the night half-conscious worrying about Leonard. By the time your alarm goes off, you’re already dressed and slipping into your shoes. You shut it off before rushing out the door in the direction of the MedBay, retracing your steps from last night.

Relief washes over you when you see him standing in the doorway of his office, but a new kind of worry settles like a stone in the pit of your stomach. He’s not hurt or missing, so... was he ignoring you?

“Len,” you call as you walk through the MedBay, “hey.”

The look on his face is far from familiar; his hazel eyes seem darker and the circles beneath them are a deep purple, “mornin’.”

“Where have you been?” you ask, unable to mask the worry in your voice, “I was looking for you last night. I called a few times, but you never answered, I was so worried.”

He keeps his eyes on his PADD as he turns and walks further into his office, “sorry, medical emergency.”

You follow him in, trying not to choke on the panic rising in your throat, “oh, I didn’t hear about anything. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he mumbles, “just busy.” He refuses to look up at you, keeping his eyes trained on the device in his hands and moving as if you’re both the south ends of two opposing magnets.

“Okay,” you say, your voice even weaker than before, “well, I spoke to Jim yesterday and he said we should break out the scotch tonight. You know, have a little celebration?”

“Can’t, I’m on call.”

"You could still come and hang out,” you force a smile onto your lips, “come on, don’t make me admit that I miss you.”

He only scoffs, his attention unmoving from his PADD.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “are you sure you’re alright?”

He sighs and finally looks up, his brows knit tight and something akin to resentment behind his glare, “Jim told me.”

“Told you what?”

“About the job offer.”

The stone in your stomach grows three sizes, sending a wave of nausea through your whole body and you have to lean against the wall to steady yourself. “He wasn’t supposed to,” you mutter, “he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone because I’m not taking it.”

“I think you should.”

His words feel like a knife being plunged into your chest, knocking you breathless and turning your voice into a whisper, “what?”

“I think you should take the job,” he says.

You blink back your tears, “why?”

“It sounds like a great opportunity, and you’re young, so you should take it.”

If it weren’t for your shoulder leaning against the wall, you could almost be sure the room itself is starting to spin. You can feel your heartbeat in every inch of your skin, heat spreading like wildfire through your whole body as your heart begins to tear itself in two.

“Just so I’m clear,” your words are soft and unsteady, “you want me to take the job and leave the Enterprise?”

He nods once, opening his mouth to reply but hesitates, as if suddenly deciding not to say whatever was on the tip of his tongue. Only then do you realise that tears are streaming down your cheeks.

“Okay, fine,” you say, wiping your face with the back of your hand, “I’ll take the job, and since you can’t seem to stand the sight of me, I’ll start in three weeks instead of six.”

You can barely see his face through the blur of tears, so you turn sharply toward the door and storm out, trying your best to keep your sobs muffled as you move through the ship and back to your room.

Those three weeks were the closest thing to hell that you’ve ever known. At first you were devastated, locking yourself in your room for four days straight, refusing to talk to anyone and living off half a meal a day. Everyone was worried but knew you needed space, especially after they heard you accepted the job at the academy. After the fourth day of wallowing, you got angry. You finally showered, dressed, and ate a full meal before deciding you would demand Leonard to tell you what the fuck you did wrong.

Jim said he could hear that first ‘conversation’ between you and the doctor all the way from the bridge... you were in the MedBay. You’re not sure you’ve ever yelled at someone so much, let alone someone you love, but it was like that for the rest of your time on the Enterprise. You couldn’t be amicable with one another, no matter how hard you tried.

“Y/N,” Jim nudges you with his elbow, “do you remember that?”

You blink away your daydream to find four sets of eyes on you and one pair intentionally avoiding you, “remember what?”

“When you weren’t wearing underwear and we-”

“Jim!” you smack his arm, “I thought you promised not to bring that up ever again.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulder, chuckling, “I’m sorry but I have a duty to never let that story die, it has to be one of the best days of my life.”

You roll your eyes but still join in the laughter of the captain, Sulu, Chekov, and Scotty. You’re almost positive you see Leonard’s lip twitch, but he quickly lifts his glass and takes a huge gulp of beer. Once the laughter subsides, Jim squeezes you closer and sighs, “you know, it’s just not the same without you on the ship. I actually miss you, like, a lot.”

You gasp dramatically, “did James Tiberius Kirk just admit to feeling something?”

“I’m serious,” he says, “don’t you miss me?” His blue eyes are wide and pleading, tugging at your heartstrings.

“Of course I miss you,” you quickly look around your circle of friends, “I miss everyone. It wasn’t easy to leave, but I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

“Aw,” Jim coos, “do you mean it? You really miss me?”

You roll your eyes again despite the smile on your face, “yes, I really mean it.”

Leonard scoffs, “are you sure about that?”

You can feel the energy shift, everyone suddenly tense as you finally look up at him, “about what?”

“That you mean it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask, pulling away from under Jim’s arm.

Leonard shrugs, “sometimes people say things they don’t mean.”

“I guess,” you frown, “but why would I lie?”

“You tell me,” he replies, his expression unreadable as he takes another sip of beer.

You hesitate for a moment, the tension tangible as you scramble for words. “I’m confused,” you finally say, “Did I do something in the last twenty seconds to piss you off?”

He chuckles bitterly, “you know what? Don’t worry about it.”

The angry flame in your belly bursts into a bonfire, heating you from the inside and bordering your vision with red. “No,” you step forward ever so slightly, “you can’t just call me a liar and then tell me not to worry about it. What did I do?”

“Nothing, just forget about it. I’ll see you around,” he says, moving as if he intends to walk away.

“No!” you snap, taking another step toward him, “I won’t ‘forget about it’ either. This is not what I came here for, but if you have something to say, then say it. Or better yet, if you have something to feel, then feel it and stop pretending to be so fucking indifferent.”

He frowns, his hazel eyes full of an emotion you can’t seem to place. “Would you stop?” he murmurs, “you’re making a scene.”

Jim mumbles sarcastically behind you, “oh, how I miss the war.”

You ignore him, your glare locked on Leonard, “I’m making a scene? You’re the one that started it, but- oh wait,” you pause for dramatic effect, “that’s right; you can’t finish anything you start.”

The blow lands, because you can see the vein in his neck pulse even faster. Neither of you like to play too dirty, most of your ‘fights’ are just petty arguments, but every now and then a carefully crafted comment will remind each of you that if you wanted to, you could really hurt one another. You know Leonard isn’t proud of his divorce, and you know that bringing it up in any negative context can really get to him.

“Maybe you’re right,” his says in a low voice, “but at least I have the decency to walk away before I make a mess.”

It takes all of your self-control not to speak any louder than he did, “oh, you want to talk about making a mess?”

“No, because I’m going to leave before I say something I don’t mean.”

He turns and walks away before you can fully process what just happened. You can feel the red-hot colour of your cheeks as blood pumps through your veins twice as fast as normal, both from anger and embarrassment. Luckily, not many others noticed your little spat, and your friends had to deal with so much of that during your final weeks on the Enterprise that they’re not even phased.

You turn to Jim, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, once again wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “on the scale of Y/N versus Bones, that was like a four.”

You can’t help but giggle as he guides you toward the bar.

“It would have been a three,” you continue, “but I’ll award an extra point for the jab at his divorce.”

“Jim!” you scold, nudging his rib with your elbow.

He laughs again, louder, “what? If I have to deal with my two favourite people at war, then I’m going to make a game of it.”

You spend the rest of the night right beside Jim, trying to ignore the guilt growing bigger and uglier inside your stomach. Leonard doesn’t leave until a few hours later, having been caught by a group of his MedBay buddies who insist on fetching him drinks, and you can’t help from keeping him within your sight. You’re jealous of every single person who gets even a second of his attention or a smile directed their way, and when one of the cute young nurses leans in a little too close to him, you feel your drinks bubbling up your throat.

You decide to say goodbye mere minutes after you see the doctor walk out the door, leaving Jim to his merriment with the rest of the crew who are more than a little inebriated, though he doesn’t let you walk away until you pinkie-promise to join your friends at breakfast in the morning. That should be fun.

The walk back to your hotel feels longer than it did on the way to the party. Your feet are sore and heavy, and your stomach feels like its full of toxic waste that isn’t going to stay there for long. You didn’t even drink that much, you just can’t help feeling sick over your argument with Leonard and the way that nurse touched his arm.

You kick your shoes off the second you step into your room and wriggle out of your dress, throwing it on the floor along with everything else you can remove from your body before falling on the bed. Just as you’ve done for the past five months, you begin to play back every interaction you’ve had with Leonard since he told you to take the job at the academy, starting with the newest addition to the library from this evening. The first time you did this was the first night you spent at your cramped apartment on the academy’s campus; you thought if you dissected enough of the interaction, you might be able to figure out what went wrong. After a while you realised it had become a sort of comfort, simply remembering that Leonard did still exist and he is still out there. You often wonder if he thinks of you just as much, but you try not to feed the hope that still burns at the back of your chest, which is exactly why you’re only allowed to remember the fights and arguments. If you let your mind wander further back than that, you might not ever return to reality.

A chirp from your communicator wakes you, so you rub your eyes until you can read the cheeky message from Jim reminding you about your breakfast plans. You groan loudly as you throw the comforter back and quite literally roll out of bed. You’re not ready for another battle, but you do have unfinished business with Jim relating to your status of employment aboard the Enterprise, or lack thereof.

You hadn’t mentioned it last night because of, well, obvious reasons, but there is another factor contributing to your decision whether or not to forfeit your post as a part of Jim’s crew. Before you left, as if your boss knew this trip would tempt you to return to your friends, the academy offered you another position co-leading a brand-new programme for aspiring mechatronic engineers. It’s not necessarily your strength, but it sounds incredible, and to be amongst some of the most intelligent people in Starfleet would be nothing short of inspiring, but that meant giving up the Enterprise (and her crew) for good.

You quickly shower and change into comfortable clothes before packing most of your belongings into your duffel bag. You do have another night booked, but you’re not sure you’ll want to stay on Yorktown much longer if this morning doesn’t go well.

Unsurprisingly, Jim decided to have breakfast at the Starfleet base where most of the crew would be staying during their time on the starbase. It was just the same as the mess hall on the ship or at the academy, just a little newer with better food because most people passing through Yorktown were high-ranking or dignitaries from the Federation, and apparently, Jim Kirk was also one of those important people. The Enterprise crew were given a private buffet on the mezzanine level of the huge eating area, where two long tables were laid out with all the breakfast food you could imagine.

“I think we might have to warn Starfleet about giving the captain a big head,” Nyota says, falling into step beside you, “or soon there won’t be room for anyone else on the bridge.”

You giggle, “but if there’s no one else on the bridge, who’s going to compliment his luscious hair and his humble courage?”

She laughs too and even Spock cracks a tiny smile beside her.

“Hey Spock.”

“It is nice to see you again, Y/N,” he responds with a nod, “I regret not being able to spend more time with you last night.”

You wave your hand dismissively and continue toward the tables of food. Sulu soon joins the three of you and you chat idly while loading up plates full of food. Jim is standing at the back of the room, leaning against the wall with a coffee in one hand and using the other to animate whatever intriguing conversation he and Scotty were having. You try not to acknowledge Leonard as you approach them.

“Hey,” Nyota whispers, “we don’t have to join them.”

You shake your head, “I’m calm, I’m sure of it.”

She can’t help but snicker quietly at the comically wide smile you force across your face as you reach your group of friends.

“Good morning gorgeous,” Jim greets you as you join them, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m surprised you’re here,” you say.

He rolls his eyes, “please, I have a liver of steel.”

You can’t hold back your laughter, “is that what that was on New Year’s Eve? It was your liver of steel that made you fall off the toilet and page Len because you couldn’t feel your left butt cheek?”

You laugh a little harder as you vividly recall the state Jim had been in that night, but the laughter from the rest of the group is soft and awkward, and only then do you realise what you said. Len. Only you called him that.

Jim clears his throat before it gets too uncomfortable, “uh, anyway, have you thought about your decision?”

“Oh,” you quickly swallow the piece of pancake you put in your mouth, “right into it, then.”

He shrugs sheepishly, “I kind of have to have an answer once I’m back on duty.”

“Well,” you sigh, “then I have to tell you about something else.” You steal a glance at Leonard, noticing his cheeks a darker shade of pink than usual and you wonder if it’s because of your slip up.

You explain the offer from your boss and the programme you’d be running to the group in front of you, trying to keep your voice neutral. You don’t want to seem too resentful of the tiny apartment and dark office you currently have, but you definitely don’t want any of them to think you’re more interested in the academy’s new initiative than returning to the Enterprise.

To everyone’s surprise, Leonard is the first to speak, “it’s a good programme, I’ve heard of it.”

“You’d leave for good?” Nyota asks, “give up your position on the Enterprise?”

“And surrender from the battle,” Jim chuckles, glancing between you and Leonard with a smirk. Nyota and Spock both give him their most disapproving parent stares, and his grin disappears, “sorry, not the time.”

“Well, I was kind of hoping my friends would help me decide,” you say, looking to each of them except Leonard.

“But you know what we’re going to say,” Nyota shrugs, “we want you to come back to the Enterprise.”

“I know, but,” you look pointedly at Scotty, “you can also understand that this is a huge opportunity. I just need some advice.” You know that above the rest, Scotty is the biggest advocate for your career, and you knew he would be the most excited about the programme at the academy.

“You’re right, lassie,” he sighs, “and I’d like to say I’ve missed you the most – it’s been hell down there with just Keenser – but I could never tell you not to take this offer. You’re young, and they’ve noticed you. If you go for this now, you’ll have endless opportunities at Starfleet.”

“But you also have endless opportunities on the Enterprise,” Jim argues. “The resources for your programme only just came in and we’re in the early stages of setting it up; you could take over and lead it. It is your baby.

Your pulse quickens with excitement at the idea of running your programme, but it’s been months since you had anything to do with it. “I’d feel bad taking it over from someone else,” you say, “I couldn’t do that.”

He shakes his head, “no one has been appointed to lead it yet.”

Sulu clears his throat, “well, Captain, we do have Mr. Scott and Dr. McCoy who could lead the programme aboard the Enterprise, and the offer Y/N has is huge. There are thousands in Starfleet who would kill for this opportunity. I miss her as much as anyone else, but she could assist remotely if we need her.”

Jim frowns at his lieutenant for not picking the same side of the argument.

“You’re right, Sulu,” you smile at him before countering Jim’s scowl, “Scotty and Dr. McCoy can run it. They’re the brains behind the whole thing anyway. All I did was pitch it, so really, my job is done.”

“Your job is not done,” Nyota butts in, “you have no idea how hard the last few months have been without you.”

“That’s because I haven’t been replaced, the crew is down a man.”

“You’re not replaceable,” Jim states, his brows even closer than before, “no one could-”

“I’ll stop you right there, Captain,” you interrupt, “because there are plenty of incredible people in Starfleet who could do more than simply fill my shoes.”

Jim huffs, failing to find another counter argument.

“If I may, Y/N,” Spock says, taking half a step forward, “but you are seeking advice to assist in making the decision, are you not? Though you argue only with those who advise you to return to the Enterprise, which would suggest that you have already made this decision. Unless you are simply waiting for a better reason to return, or perhaps, for the right person to ask you to,” he pauses and turns to Leonard, “Dr. McCoy?”

The air is suddenly thick with tension, everyone gaping at Spock and wondering if they might have imagined what they just heard.

“Fire in the hole,” Jim murmurs into his cup as he takes a swig of coffee.

Leonard clears his throat, “I don’t particularly care what Y/N does, so I don’t think my opinion should matter.”

Jim coughs, almost choking on his drink, “and take cover.” He pats his chest and turns to Spock, “have I introduced you to our newest cadet in the archaeological research division? He’s amazing. Nyota, Scotty, you too.”

Without so much as a hint of subtlety, everyone disperses, leaving you and Leonard alone in the corner of the huge room.

Somehow, you find enough courage to turn to him and ask, “why did you tell me to leave?”

“I’ve answered this question a hundred times,” he sighs, “it was a great job opportunity. You would have been stupid not to take it.”

“No, this time I want the truth.”

He rolls his eyes, “why do you repeatedly insist on having this conversation, knowing exactly how it's going to end?”

You can only just hear him over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears; rage and anticipation coursing through you as you stand between the doctor and the rest of the Enterprise crew. You’ve already embarrassed yourself last night, you might as well give it one last go before you make your decision.

“Because I want the real answer,” you reply, keeping your voice even, “so we’re going to keep having it until you tell me the truth.”

“Okay, you want my advice?” he says, “take the job and give up your position on the Enterprise so that I can be rid of you and this conversation for good.”

Once again, his words knock the breath from your lungs. You can almost feel the new fractures splitting your heart into even smaller pieces, but the pain moves to the back of your mind as you realise that he did just admit something that he hasn’t before.

“So…” you whisper, searching frantically for your voice, “it was about getting rid of me, not about the job.”

An array of emotions you can’t even attempt to read cross his face in less than a second before he settles on a frown, “look, I don’t have to explain myself to you. If anything, you owe me.”

“I owe you what?”

“An explanation.”

You frown too, “what for?”

“For what you said before you left!” he snaps.

You can practically feel the sets of eyes on your back multiply, more bystanders finding interest in the exchange happening at the back of the room.

“Len, we were at each other’s throats before I left,” you say, lowering your voice, “I’m sure we both said things we didn’t mean.”

You try for a second to remember something deep and personal he’d said to you in your final weeks on the ship, but nothing comes to mind. In fact, all you can remember is petty fighting and childish arguments. It was almost as if neither of you truly wanted to hurt the other, or at least, not acutely. You never brought up the deepest and darkest pieces of pain from each other’s history, knowing it would irreversibly damage the relationship between you. The closest you’ve gotten was last night when you hinted at his divorce, saying he couldn’t finish anything he started, and even then, you felt awful.

“Not that,” he mutters, "what you said after your meeting with the admiral.”

You frown again, “that I got the grant?”

“After that.”

You have to think for a minute, playing back that day in your head as you’ve done a thousand times. Only this time, you allow yourself to remember all of it, without blocking out the parts that made your heart hurt. You gasp quietly when you realise, slowly looking up at him, “y-you’re angry because I said I loved you?”

His expression is the softest you’ve seen it in months, his hazel eyes almost green behind the sadness filling them, “I’m not angry that you said it, I’m angry because you lied.”

Tears begin to blur your vision, but you refuse to let them fall, “why would I lie about that?”

“Don’t bother, alright?” he says before clearing his raspy throat, “I heard you talking to Nyota.”

“When?”

“When you went to meet her, after we- you know, in my office,” his cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink.

You shake your head, as if it should help clear your thoughts, “I’m confused.”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” he snaps again, though this time with a little less bite.

“Well clearly, I have no idea what is going on!” You don’t care who’s watching anymore, this is the closest you’ve ever been to actually finding out what happened.

He sighs, “You called me, by accident I guess, and I heard you. You told her that you only said it because it was awkward, that you were going to take it back because you got what you wanted, and that Jim-”

“I’ll get Jim to talk to him,” you cut him off, realisation smacking you across the face. You feel dizzy as everything hits you at once and a montage of memories rush through your head. The pieces of the puzzle you’d been trying to solve for months finally fall into place, and you finally know why Leonard broke your heart that day.

“Exactly,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

You’ve spent months wondering whether it was because of the job offer itself, or because you got the grant on his behalf, but Leonard wasn’t the type to be jealous of his friends. You wondered if he simply wasn’t ready for a new relationship, or if you’d scared him when you told him you loved him, but he said it first. You even wondered, very briefly, if he’d heard some stupid rumour about you and Jim, since you knew there were some of those around, but you’d spoken about it before, even laughed about it. You never considered that the whole thing could have been one, big, stupid misunderstanding.

Leonard frowns, “You can’t seriously tell me that you had no idea what happened until now.”

“Len, I-”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I really don’t want to-”

“Leonard, please,” you sigh “would you just give me five seconds.”

“You’ve had five months,” he exclaims, “and you still can’t admit it to my face?”

“Because you’re wrong,” you snap.

His frown disappears, “I’m what?”

“You don’t know what you think you know,” you say, clasping your hands over your stomach as another wave of nausea hits you.

"I heard you say it.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves coursing through your veins like an electric current. “Yes,” you begin, “I said those things, but not about you. I-It was about the job, I… when I was in the meeting with the admiral, he offered me the job before he approved the grant, and I said yes... but I didn’t mean it. It was awkward and I needed him to say yes, so I accepted, but I never wanted the job. I didn’t want to leave the Enterprise; I didn’t want to leave you. I was in love with you. Jim was going to speak to the admiral for me, say that he couldn’t let me go, the ship needed me, and I had to run the programme, but then... well, you told me to go, so I-”

“Left,” he finishes for you, his eyes glassy as his mind wanders back to that night.

Your heart is thundering so loud you can’t even hear the commotion of the people behind you over the thrum of your pulse. Neither of you dare to speak, you don’t even know what to say. Six whole months of pain and anger, all because of a misunderstanding. If Leonard had asked you about the conversation he overhead, or if you asked him what was wrong instead of just leaving... you could have avoided the worst six months of your life. You feel stupid.

“You must hate me,” he finally says, every bit of anger gone from his voice, “I’m so sorry.”

Before you can respond, he steps to the side and strides right past you. He passes easily through the groups of people enjoying their breakfast, down the stairs, and out of the building.

“Ye’re barely off the ground for six months and ye already forget how ta solder straight,” Scotty shouts from the deck below.

You put down your tools and take two steps to lean over the railing and glare down at him, “for your information, I was never very good at soldering.”

He chuckles and waves a hand, returning his attention to the open machinery in front of him, ready to remedy your errors from attempting to fix it earlier. In your defence, you weren’t usually on the tools, but you wanted to be able to join in on the practical portion of the new programme when the time came, so you agreed to a month down in the warp core with Scotty to brush up on your skills. It’s been almost a week without incident, which you considered to be a personal record. Though you’re fairly sure it has nothing to do with your skills and everything to do with not wanting to end up in the MedBay.

Jim’s birthday was a couple of weeks ago, and you still haven’t spoken to Leonard since that morning. After he left, you went straight to Jim and told him you’d be back aboard the Enterprise effective immediately. You quit your job at the academy – luckily you were still within the probationary period – and had all of your belongings packed and shipped to the next Federation planet that the Enterprise is due at. You’ll be picking them up in a few days, but you honestly wouldn’t be too worried if they never showed up. You’re just happy to be home; it’s as if you never left. That is, except for Leonard.

You know you have to give him space, and obviously he wants nothing to do with you right now, so you can’t force yourself upon him even if you’d settle for just friends at this point. Your heart aches in a whole new way whenever you hear his name, but you haven’t yet run into him, and you’re not sure what will happen when you do.

“Shit,” you hiss, quickly pulling away from where you’re working to watch blood drip from your hand, “of course.”

“I told Scotty that it wasn’t a good idea putting a pretty girl like you down here,” Jim says as he wanders in from the corridor.

You scowl at him, “I’ll ignore the misogyny because I’m in pain. Can you get me the first aid kit?”

He chuckles, “I don’t think a bandage is going to cut it; you need stitches.”

“I do not,” you argue, despite the blood creating a small puddle at your feet.

“Yes, you do,” he insists, “and as a bonus, you can give Bones a heart attack.”

You take a clean rag and wrap it around your hand, allowing Jim to help as you ask him, “why would I give him a heart attack?”

He shrugs, “I’m not sure he knows you’re back aboard the ship.”

“Excuse me?”

“I haven’t spoken to him since Yorktown,” he clarifies, “I made sure he was okay after breakfast, but I didn’t tell him that you’d decided to return to the Enterprise. It didn’t seem like the time.”

You’re almost positive if looks could kill, Jim would dead on the floor right now. “But he’s the Chief Medical Officer,” you stress, “he has to know everyone aboard the ship.”

“Yes,” Jim says, “and no, there are a lot of crew members.”

“He would have had to sign me back on!”

Jim can’t help but laugh again at the way your voice cracks. “He’s been sick,” he states, “since we boarded. Doctor Gronan has been standing in for him until yesterday.”

“Doctor Gronan signed me back on,” you mutter to yourself.

“Yep.”

“Then why wouldn’t you tell him?” you exclaim.

Your captain laughs once again, shrugging as he replies, “I thought it would be fun to see how long it took him to find out.”

“This isn’t a game!”

“But it is fun.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“After you get stitched up, come on,” he sighs, guiding you toward the corridor by your shoulders, “I assume you know the way?”

“I’m familiar,” you reply, dragging your feet into the bright white hallway.

“Excellent, no detours, but first, where’s Scotty?”

“Deck below,” you mumble.

“Thank you,” he gives you a cheeky wink, “now, on your way.”

Your pulse quickens with every step you take toward the MedBay, which you’re pretty sure is why the rag you’re holding begins to soak with blood. Other crew members watch you hurry through the ship with concern, and by the time you reach the MedBay, you’re trailing little red droplets across the floor. The moment Leonard looks up from his PADD, he goes paper white and his eyes practically double in size. Despite being obviously unsettled, he looks good; you could never get sick of seeing him in his uniform.

“Hey,” you say, stepping closer to him in order to deter bystanders from eavesdropping.

He swallows thickly, “hi.”

Another beat of silence passes because you hold up your injured hand, “um, I’m bleeding.”

“Shit, sorry,” he finally notices the bloody rag, “come with me.”

You follow him into one of the treatment rooms and sit on the bed, legs swinging over the side as he pulls the stool and cart over to you.

“Sorry,” he says again as he arranges the equipment on the cart, “I- um, I didn’t know you were back.”

“I know, Jim thought it would be funny.”

He looks up suddenly, that familiar frown knitting his brows.

“I didn’t know,” you clarify, “I assumed you had signed me aboard and were just avoiding me.”

His frown softens and he opens his mouth to reply but hesitates, instead returning his attention to the bloody rag wrapped around your hand. He nods for you to show him, so you extend your arm and allow him to remove the make-shift bandage. You try not to wince when the material pulls on a dried bit of blood, but you can’t help your hand from twitching. Leonard’s own hand cups yours out of instinct; a comforting gesture that wouldn’t mean a thing to you from any other doctor but means everything from Leonard. He looks up at you, as if asking permission to continue touching you, waiting for you to nod before he starts cleaning the cut.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” he mutters.

Ironic... you think, though choose not to say it aloud. You nod again, “okay.”

Another few minutes pass as he finishes cleaning the cut, numbs your skin, and prepares to stitch it closed. He holds the dermal regenerator a few inches from your hand and it begins to whir softly, shooting out a blue beam that sews the skin back together. You let your eyes wander from the healing cut to where the doctor is touching you, his warm skin beneath the glove making yours tingle all the way up your arm and into your chest, waking up the butterflies that live in your rib cage. Their fluttering wings make it hard to breathe, and that familiar sense of anticipation and giddiness takes over any feelings of contempt or anger.

The regenerator stops and he looks up to meet your gaze, his pupils doubling their size, “all done.”

You flex your hand, “feels brand new.”

“Give it a minute,” he says, “keep stretching, and I’ll check it over before you go.”

You watch him pack away the cart and dispose of all the bloody gauze. His hands work fluidly, not once hesitating as his muscle memory tells them where to put each tool or piece of equipment. He pulls his gloves off and for some stupid reason your heart leaps; heat flushes through your whole body, concentrating in a tight ball just below your belly as your mind replays all the things those hands have done to you.

“Let me have a look.”

You willingly put your hand back in his, praying your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. He presses gently around the faint line where your cut had been, glancing up with each new area he pushes on to see if you wince or react at all.

“Looks good,” he lets go of you hand and rolls back on the stool, “you can go back to work, just don’t lift anything heavy and please wear gloves.”

You try to fight the sheepish grin tugging at your lips, “yes, sir.”

His cheeks flush pink and you can’t help being a little proud. He stands up, avoiding your gaze as he picks up his PADD to check off a few more things, no doubt clearing you to return to work. You slide off the bed and straighten your uniform, trying to think of something else to say so you don’t have to leave. Should you make up an illness, or is that too desperate? This is the most amicable interaction you’ve had in months; you don’t want it to end.

“I jus’ want to say,” he clears his throat, “I am really-”

“I know,” you interrupt, “and it’s okay, you don’t have to apologise.”

He frowns, “you’re not angry?”

You sigh and lean back against the bed, “well, I thought about it, at first, but then realised that I gave up on us just as quickly.”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me to leave, and I left,” you reply, “I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t argue, I didn’t fight it, I just left.”

His frown doesn’t move, only his eyes, raking up and down your body twice before settling on your lips and turning that warmth below your belly into a full-blown bonfire.

“Besides,” you continue, your nerves forcing you to fill the silence, “if I honestly believed I'd heard my boyfriend tell someone that he regretted saying he loved me, I’d probably react the same way... or worse.”

He cracks a small smile and your heart races as if you’d just run five miles, but the light-heartedness on his face disappears just as quickly as it had come. “Ex-boyfriend,” he says.

You frown, “what?”

“You said boyfriend, you meant ‘ex-boyfriend’.”

“Oh,” you nod slowly, “well, actually, I don’t think I remember breaking up.”

He actually laughs, only a short chuckle, but it’s the best thing you’ve heard in months.

“I’m serious!” you insist, laughing despite your words, “neither of us actually said the words.”

His smile fades, and he looks back down at his PADD before you can figure out the new expression on his face, “regardless of words being said, I’m sure other things happened that-”

You cut him off, “what ‘other’ things?”

“I’m not naive,” he chuckles bitterly, “I’m sure there were plenty of Starfleet’s finest that were more than eager to meet the gorgeous new engineer.”

“Oh,” you know your cheeks are now glowing red, “thanks, I think, but- uh, no, I didn’t sleep with anyone.”

He looks up again, a mixture of confusion and something else you can’t quite place written across his face. Panic clouds your thoughts as you wonder whether he has slept with anyone in the time you were away. You hadn’t even considered it, hadn’t tortured yourself with that possibility because deep down he was still yours, it was almost as if a part of you knew it wasn’t over.

“Why not?” he asks.

You shrug, “too heartbroken.”

He drops his PADD on the nearest tabletop, sighing, “you have no idea how sorry I am.”

“Len, I told you-”

“Let me apologise,” he demands, stepping forward until his chest is an inch from your nose, “I need to apologise, because I don’t think I will ever stop hating myself for losing my one reason for existing.”

You gasp and then quickly forget how to breathe, holding the air in your lungs as if the slightest movement would wake you up from whatever wild dream you’d fallen into. You stare up at him, unblinking.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hooking a finger beneath your chin.

You still can’t breathe, and your head starts to spin as he slowly closes the distance between your mouths.

“If you want me to stop,” he murmurs, his lips practically brushing yours, “just tell-”

“Shut up,” you mutter, before pushing up onto your toes and pressing your mouth against his.

His hands find your waist and your bodies snap together, like two magnets alone in their own field void of any other gravitational pull. His lips taste the same, his tongue moves exactly the way you know, and he feels like home.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, your mouths barely parting before his lips catch your breath again.

You step back until your bum bumps into the bed, and with the slightest effort, he lifts you onto it. His hands spread your knees, allowing him to nestle between them as his touch makes its way up your body to your neck, the heat of his skin on yours pulling the knot below your belly even tighter. You slide forward ever-so-slightly, unable to stop yourself from grinning when you feel the hardness of him rub between your legs.

He groans and tightens a hand around the front of your neck, “careful, darlin’.”

Your grin grows wider, “I missed you.”

He pulls back and his hands return to your waist. His skin is flushed and his pupils blown wide, his lips swollen and red, and you’re almost convinced you’ve died and gone to heaven. “I missed you too,” he says, before pressing a gentle kiss against your lips.

“Do you two know there are cameras in here?” Jim asks, appearing at the door and startling both of you, “or do you just have some kinky preference for being watched?” His smirk stretches from one ear to the other, and he attempts to appear casual by leaning against the door frame but his bright eyes are sparkling with mischief.

“Do you watch all the surveillance footage, or do you just have some kinky preference for the MedBay?” you retort, your fingers curling into the fabric of Leonard’s shirt to keep him in place.

He doesn’t even try to turn around for obvious reasons in his pants, but throws an irritated scowl over his shoulder, “really, Jim?”

Jim chuckles, “what’s the matter, Bones?”

“You,” Leonard snaps, “you’re the matter!”

“Why can’t you turn around?” he asks, his voice laced with evil intent.

You reach for the small pillow at the top of the bed and lob it across the room at him, “would you fuck off?”

He laughs again, “no need to be so rude, I just wanted to see my two best friends!”

Leonard rolls his eyes, his grip on your hips tightening, “you’re about to see a lot more than you’ve bargained for if you don’t fuck off.”

Your stomach flips and a warm, tingly sense of anticipation spreads throughout your whole body.

“Fine,” Jim sighs, pushing off the door frame and taking a step back, “I’ll just watch the cameras.”

“Get out!” Leonard exclaims, turning around as Jim cackles and hurries away.

Leonard presses the button for the door to slide shut and another button to lock it.

“You don’t think he’s really going to watch the cameras, right?” you ask.

He returns to the space between your legs, splaying his hands across your thighs where your dress has ridden up, “probably.” His hands slide up under your dress and you instinctively straighten your spine, tilting your head back in a desperate attempt to get your mouth closer to his.

He stays just out of reach, his breath hot on your lips as he speaks, “so you better be a good girl and put on a show.”

END.

51 notes · View notes

heliads · 1 year ago

Note

Read the pinned post and I'm so glad you're still taking requests for Star Trek!! I was wondering if you could do something for Bones with loads of banter and friends to lovers? Like they work together on the enterprise and are super close. They're always flirting and making fun of eachother, etc until one day R gets hurt and they both confess. I'm a sucker for sick fics/hurt comfort.

'Stay Safe' - leonard 'bones' mccoy

masterlist

There’s never a dull moment when you’re up amongst the stars.

At times like this, when everything is going south, it’s important to remember that you signed up for this. You were the one who decided that a simple life back on your home planet was too boring for you. You were the one who chose to put yourself through the most rigorous courses you could find in Starfleet Academy. You were the one who somehow thought that pestering Jim Kirk (that’s Captain to you) to let you onto the Enterprise would be the best possible career plan.

And now you’re the one finding yourself hurled into danger for what feels like the dozenth time this week. At least you’re not twiddling your thumbs, hoping for something to do, but at least boredom doesn’t get you killed. At this rate, with Jim’s latest half-mad plan to get you all out of the latest crisis, you have no idea if you can say that about your position on the Enterprise.

The Enterprise’s latest incident is going to take place in a few hours. There’s been a situation on a backwater planet where an escape pod from an imploding shuttle was accidentally stranded without any chance of rescue. Unfortunately, the travelers in the pod managed to crash land on a planet with a toxic atmosphere, so they’ve been forced to stay inside their pod lest they breathe in the poisonous gas. They’ve only got a short while before their life support systems give out, which is why it’s time for the Enterprise to step in.

The only problem is that this planet is way more hostile than original scans made it out to be. What was meant to be a one man mission has quickly unraveled into a far more complex plan. More crew members will have to be sent down, and you’ll need contact with the ship so you can quickly beam everyone up before they get hurt.

You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised to receive a summons to the bridge. You’ve known Jim for a while now, and in turn he knows that he can rely on you in dangerous times such as these. You’ve more than proven yourself capable of handling extreme pressure and risks, so your caution and quick thinking pay off by plunging you back in danger again.

Jim wants a group to travel down to the surface and retrieve the pod with its survivors. You’ll go along with Sulu, Uhura, and your captain, as all of you work well together and can handle tough situations like this. Jim gave you the option to stay back on the Enterprise, of course, he’d never force you into something as perilous as this, but this won’t be the first time that you’ve risked your life to save innocent lives, and it certainly won’t be the last.

Jim had known that, but he’d still smiled with obvious relief when you agreed to take part in the mission. “Glad to have you with us,” he’d said, clapping you on the shoulder, “Now, we’ve got to get moving, and fast. You’ll have to swing by the med wing to get cleared for surface interaction. Meet us back here as soon as you can so we can finish going over details before we head out. And thanks again, Y/N.”

You’d waved off his gratitude with an easy smile. This is what you do best, after all. You accept the risks and you take the challenges. All in a day’s work. Still, the more difficult part has yet to come. This planet’s atmosphere is no joke. Even a few minutes of unadulterated skin contact on the surface of that planet could burn away your skin. That’s why you’ll need to head over to the medical wing so they can decide you’re in good enough condition to risk it, as well as give you necessary supplements to provide some protection against the acidity of the atmosphere. Besides, it’ll give you a chance to catch up with a friend, and you’ve never turned that down, either.

Your footsteps are quick as you hurry out of the bridge and down the sprawling corridors towards the medical wing. It’s as busy as ever, with blue-shirted figures darting in and out wherever you look. Still, in all of their chaos and yours, you manage to locate the one man you’re here to see in record time.

Doctor Leonard McCoy, known to some as the most intimidating medical professional on the Enterprise and to his friends as Bones, has just finished sending one patient on their way when he’s confronted with the sight of another one. Unlike most of the invalids to cross his path, though, Bones doesn’t greet you with an unhappy harrumph, nor even a sarcastic comment about what you did to land yourself in the med wing. Instead, he almost smiles.

“Y/N. Good to see you. I don’t suppose you’re here to help out or do something nice for me?” He says dryly.

You grin. “Afraid not, Bones. I need a favor.”

He arches a dark brow, crossing the room to replenish a container of syringes. “What favor? If it’s anything more than verbal, you’re going to have to join the patient waitlist.”

You wince. “See, I was hoping you wouldn’t say that. I need you to clear me for contact with the planet. ASAP.”

Bones actually stops moving for once in his life just so he can stare incredulously at you. “Are you out of your mind? I thought Jim declared any activity on that planet to be a risk to life and resources.”

“He did,” you admit, “but that’s why I’m joining the party. The more the merrier, apparently. Uhura says she wants someone down there with functioning critical thinking skills so she can balance out Jim. We’ll be fine so long as we stick together, but I need you to clear me first.”

Bones folds his arms across his chest. “So all I have to do to stop you from going into a trap this big is to just refuse to check your condition? Done.”

You pull a face. “Bones, I’m not kidding. We have to do this.”

“Neither am I,” he fires back. “This is a stupid move and Jim knows that. I’m not letting him lose half the superior officers of this ship all at once. You’re all going to get yourselves killed. Hate me if you want, sweetheart, but I’m keeping you alive. That’s what the medical officer is supposed to do, by the way, in case you forgot.”

You sigh. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but we have to do this, you know that. Besides, if you won’t clear me, I’ll just find someone who will. Would it make you sleep easier at night if you refused to take a look at me so I made an intern give me the meds I need to breathe down there? I’m sure they’d get the prescription right on the first try.”

Bones blows a sharp breath out, but when it becomes clear that you aren’t willing to back down, he purses his lips and relents. “Fine. You’re too damn stubborn for your own good, by the way.”

You crack a grin. “From you, Bones, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He hems and haws while he runs the necessary scans, but when you walk out of the med wing, you do so with the perfect combination of supplements and injections to enable you to breathe the toxic atmosphere on the planet without dying. You’ll all be in thick suits anyway, but just in case, it’s important to take these steps to protect yourselves now. Hopefully, you won’t need them, but the downsides of skipping them are much worse than the inconvenience of a couple extra shots.

Bones makes sure to remind you of this before you go. He warns you to stay out of trouble, knowing full well that there’s no chance of that, but you nod along anyway. You glance over your shoulder right before you leave the med wing, and catch a glimpse of him staring after you, brow knit with anxiety. At this point, you have to return from this mission intact not just for your own good but his as well.

Jim and the others are finalizing the plan when you get back to the bridge. He feigns surprise when you walk in, although he can’t hide a broad grin. “Bones let you go that easily? Maybe he’s losing his touch.”

You arch a brow. “What does that mean?”

Your captain laughs. “It means he’s very protective of you. It’s cute.”

You make a face. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear you call Bones cute, and now I wish I never did.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “I’m just trying to connect to you, Y/N. I thought you’d agree with that. You two only ever spend time with each other anyway, aren’t you—”

He’s studiously interrupted by Uhura calling everyone to focus so you can get down to the planet as soon as possible. You don’t miss the pointed look she gives to Jim the second they think your back is turned, but you’ve been seeing a lot of those lately, and they only get easier to ignore.

Contrary to what is apparently the popular belief on the Enterprise, you’re not in a relationship with Bones. It’s startling how many people here think you are, but you’re not. You’re just friends. No matter how many times Jim points out that Bones is oddly friendly and warm towards you, and offenses committed by Jim that earn hours of yelling only receive a small frown when you repeat them, the truth is the same. Jim may have a romantic goal for you and Bones, but it’s not happening.

What is happening, however, is the mission at hand. After conferring for a while longer, you have Scotty beam all of you down to the planet surface. The ground underneath your feet is rocky and uneven, so you’ll have to be cautious. One bad spill could leave you with a torn suit, and even with your medical boosters, you want as little contact with the toxic environment as possible.

You and the others quickly make your way to the downed escape pod. Once there, you spread out, spreading a connective net between all of you before setting it on the ground and activating it. A temporary shield forms a dome in the air, sealing off the ground from the poison clouds floating low through the air. Once the life support cycles through, it’s safe for anyone without a suit to breathe. It’ll wear out soon though, especially while taking a continuous beating from the noxious gas outside, so you’ll have to move quickly.

You hurry over to the pod, knocking twice on the side before calling for them to come out. Slowly, a hatch on the side retracts, and five travelers come out, eyes wide and scared. Uhura hands them some suits, urging the victims to put them on quickly. They don’t need to be told twice, hurriedly pulling on the suits while you count down the seconds before you need to move again.

Although helpful when combating the toxic atmosphere, you won’t be able to beam up while you’re in the shield dome due to the energy signature currently keeping you alive. You’ll have to slowly let people out of the dome and hope that their suits stay stable long enough for Scotty up above to lock onto their signatures and safely retrieve them.

One by one, the members of the doomed escape pod leave the safety of the dome. You watch them get beamed up one by one, listening to your earpiece to know when to send up the next one. Finally, the last of them is ready to be sent up, and you breathe a quiet sigh of relief. At last, an Enterprise mission that goes according to plan.

See, you should have known better than to jinx it like that. It’s common knowledge around here that the moment you decide something is going according to plan, you’ll be proven wrong in a heartbeat, and the galaxy likes nothing better than to mess with all of you.

So, of course, not a fraction of a second later than the time you think you’ll be alright, you notice a gap between the dome and the ground. The surface of this planet is rocky, you noticed it when you first landed. One of the escapees must have knocked into the dome generator while you were pulling them out. It wouldn’t have taken much to disrupt the field, not when it’s been fighting the acidity of the environment around you for so long.

And, as you watch with horrified eyes, the toxic sludge from outside has already started to make its way in. All it takes is one drop. One drop, to start to wear away at the protective coating of the generators. One drop, to make its way inside the machinery. One drop, to cause a chain reaction that ends with the energy of the dome cycling back in on itself and exploding.

You have just enough time to shout for everyone to take cover before the thing goes nuclear. The last person stuck on the doomed escape pod is right beside you, and you fling your body over them to protect them from the blast. The impact slams into you a heartbeat later, knocking you to the ground. Your suit can take a beating from the toxic gas, but not a self destructing energy shield generator, and if it wasn’t already weakened from the blast, tumbling over sharp rocks is more than enough to tear holes in the side.

Instantly, the toxic gas rushes in. You scream out, feeling the poisonous fumes eating away at your skin. Everything is metallic and agonizing, the taste of copper radiating through your mouth. Somewhere in the background, you can hear Jim yelling for Scotty to beam you up now, but it’s hard to hear him distinctly when your vocal chords are taut in one constant cry of pain. You manage to endure another few seconds before blacking out, and although unconsciousness is always a bad sign when you’re on a foreign planet, your last satisfied thought before you pass out is that at least you won’t have to feel the pain anymore.

It’s quiet for a long time, dark and quiet. Peaceful, almost. You wake up slowly. It hurts to open your eyes because it’s so bright compared to the hazy blackness behind your lids, but it gets easier after a while. When you’re finally able to piece together the fact that you’re on a bed in the med wing, secluded from the main hustle and bustle so you can heal in privacy, you also realize that you’re not alone. Bones is sitting in a chair drawn up close beside you, head in shaky hands.

Bones. Oh, he must be irate. All those warnings about keeping you safe and then you went and hurt yourself like this. It wasn’t like you wanted to have your skin melted off by a toxic planet, but that’s how it goes when you try to save people. Bones, however, doesn’t care about the rest. He cares about you, as he’s put it plainly several times.

You reach over, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “Everything alright, Doc?”

He jerks up, startled, although the panic in his eyes starts to abate when he realizes you’re conscious. “I think I should be asking you that. You’re the one who came back in a pool of your own blood.”

You wince. “How bad was it?”

“Very,” he says, and that one word contains with it the gravity of a lifetime.

You can imagine how it must have gone for him, then. Bones, biding his time up in the med wing, patching up patients to distract himself from not knowing what was going down on the surface of the planet. He would have told himself it would be fine because you said it would be fine, and just as he got halfway to believing it, Jim would have rushed through the doors carrying your unconscious, bleeding, actively diminishing body. What a ghastly scene.

“You patched me up pretty well, though. I don’t feel anything.” You tell him, mostly to try and lift that desperate look on his face.

Bones lets out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, well, that’s what a cocktail of painkillers will do for you. You’ll take a while to recover, though. I can’t stop that.”

From the way he keeps shooting nervous glances at your side, though, you can tell that he wishes more than anything that he could stop it. The two of you wait in patient, terrible silence, and then Bones gives in and says what he’s been holding back all this time.

“It’s just– Dammit, Y/N, I thought you were going to die. When they brought you in, you weren’t moving. Your heart was barely even beating. I can keep giving you pills and bandages when you need them, but that won’t be enough to bring you back from the dead. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I could lose the ship, I could lose the rest of the crew, I could lose myself, but I can’t lose you.”

Your breath is shallow in your chest, and not just because of the injury. “Why?”

“You know why,” he says, refusing to look at you.

“I want to hear you say it,” you tell him.

A silence. A drawn breath. “I love you,” he says at last, “I love you, Y/N. More than anything. Didn’t know it until I thought you were dead. Didn’t think I’d have to say it until you woke up.”

Bones is not one to beat around the bush, but he still waits a beat or too longer before forcing himself to look back at you. His eyes cut to you in one clean jerk, like ripping off a bandage. You’re not here to hurt him, though. Not anymore.

“I love you too,” you tell him. “Probably longer than you.”

“There’s no reason to make this a contest,” Bones chides you, but he’s starting to smile at last.

“Why not? Scared I’ll win?” You laugh.

Bones tries to glare, but the corners of his mouth refuse to tamp down into anything sober or serious. “Cut that out.”

“Make me,” you challenge him, and he takes you up on your word by leaning forward abruptly to kiss you.

Of all the things to make you go silent, that might be your favorite. It’ll take you a while to heal, but maybe it’s not the worst thing to be stuck in the med wing for a while longer. You and Bones have plenty of things to talk about in the meantime.

star trek tag list: @w1shes43

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#bones #bones imagines #bones x reader #bones oneshot #leonard mccoy #leonard mccoy imagines #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy oneshot #star trek #star trek imagines #star trek x reader #star trek oneshot #star trek bones #star trek bones imagines #star trek bones x reader #star trek bones oneshot

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cactusnymph · 4 months ago

Text

A Former Borg And A Half-Klingon Walk Into A Bar

“You did not tell me that we would be going to a bar”, Seven says in that tone of hers that always sounds judgmental, no matter what she says. And, as always, it pisses B’Elanna off.

“I don’t want to be here anymore than you do, alright? I was volunteered.”

“You would think that after all that time in the Delta Quadrant there would be more Klingons in Starfleet to be ‘volunteered’ for this sort of mission”, Seven responds, looking around warily. Her hair is in its usual perfect updo and she’s wearing—well. At least she’s not wearing one of her usual cat suits. But to say that she’s dressed well for the occasion would go a little too far. She looks extremely bland, dressed in a dark sort of suit.

B’Elanna thinks that maybe someone should have briefed her better on what exactly it is that they’re doing down here.

“Open some of those buttons”, B’Elanna says, gesturing at Seven’s button up shirt. Seven raises one perfect eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

“Your buttons. You look like a business woman who took a wrong turn. This is a Klingon bar. If people in there are supposed to believe that you came here voluntarily you have to slut it up a little”, B’Elanna says. Seven’s eyebrow raises even further.

“’Slut it up’?”, she answers.

“Have you met Klingons? All they do is fight and fuck. So if you want to go in there and not do the fighting, you have to look like you’re there for the fucking.”

There is a pause in which B’Elanna thinks that Seven is going to punch her in the face or simply turn around and leave. Instead, she slowly raises her hand to undo four buttons of her shirt, revealing a terribly perfect cleavage. B’Elanna was never self-conscious about her body—aside from its Klingon features, of course—but standing next to Seven can make even the most confident woman feel a little lackluster.

She nods emphatically and tousles up her own hair while Seven stares at her unblinkingly.

“What?”

“I am simply trying to infer how your clothes look as if you are here to ‘fuck’”, she says. B’Elanna crosses her arms in front of her chest. She’s wearing simple dark pants and a vest that shows off her toned biceps.

“Seven. No offense. But this is a lesbian bar. Lesbians love a good biceps.”

Another pause.

“Lesbian. As in homosexual female Klingons.”

B’Elanna can’t help but snort.

“Yes. Why else did you think they would send you here? Could’ve gone with… I don’t know. Someone who’s not a walking fridge.”

“I assume that many biceps in this bar will be more impressive than yours, seeing as to how you are only half Klingon”, Seven says and B’Elanna could swear that there’s the hint of a smirk beginning to form in the corner of her mouth.

“Yeah, what can I say. I’m counting on being a fuckable novelty. Let’s go. And try not to look so—well. Like you.”

Being back on Earth has allowed B’Elanna many things. Taking a guest teaching job at the academy, getting back in touch with some old friends and also… well. Getting to know some of her new friends better now that they’re back home. She’s spent an astounding amount of time with Harry, seeing as to how the two of them couldn’t be more different. And after a while off from the whole Starfleet thing, she also decided to go back to active duty, ending up more often than not with Seven.

B’Elanna never thought she’d ever help anyone else adept to Starfleet Academy or find herself arguing on behalf of it or going on an undercover extraction mission with Seven to a lesbian Klingon bar. But when the Captain asks nicely, B’Elanna is bad at saying no. She owes that woman so much.

“Would it not make more sense to pretend that we are a homosexual couple”, Seven says, pulling B’Elanna out of her thoughts and back into the real world in which Seven’s cleavage is very distracting and the Klingon hard-rock coming from inside the bar is still very loud.

Now it’s her time to pause.

“You want to pretend to be a couple. With me”, she says.

Ah, there’s that eyebrow again.

“It seems the most logical course of action. And I would, in fact, not need to look as if I was searching for sexual conquest if I am already there with a partner.”

B’Elanna can’t help but laugh about that, but she decides that maybe now is not the best time to explain the Klingon love for an orgy or the concept of polyamory to her. Instead she grabs Seven’s arm and puts it around her own shoulder before she loops her own arm around Seven’s waist.

“Well then, Ensign. Are you ready to be a lesbian?”, she asks.

“I do not think—“

“It was a joke, Seven. Loosen up.”

“Right. A joke”, Seven says, not commenting on how she has never loosened up in her life or how ‘I am Borg. I do not loosen up’. B’Elanna thinks it to herself and chuckles quietly, trying not to think about how well they actually fit together like this as they step towards the bouncers—two enormous Klingon women, wearing very little—and push open the doors.

The music thrums inside B’Elannas ribcage as they make their way towards the bar. Most of the women in here are drinking bloodwine, but there are some non-Klingons who carry fancy, colorful drinks that sparkle in the low light. B’Elanna takes note of the brawls taking place over in a corner, of the door to a separate room that probably leads to something Seven has never seen before in her entire life, Borg or no Borg, and she scans the room for their target.

“I have found our target”, Seven says next to B’Elanna. “She is sitting at one of the round tables, playing what looks to be a game involving daggers and three very lightly dressed women.”

B’Elanna doesn’t need much longer to find Sukav Resh after that particular description. She is indeed surrounded by three women who wear barely more than leather underwear and some jewelry that proudly and clearly proclaims their sexual preferences to the entire room. Most people out in these types of bars wear it. It’s not because Klingon’s are too shy to ask, they simply value efficiency. Threatening someone and buying them drinks to get laid only to find out that they’re not compatible with you is a waste of time for everyone.

“Should we attempt to join in this knife game to get the information we need?”, Seven asks and B’Elanna can’t help it. It’s simply all a little surreal.

“Would you say that you’re a submissive bottom looking to be thrown across a room, bitten extensively and spanked all night?”, she asks.

“I am unclear what my own sexual preferences have to do with our target”, Seven says, looking puzzled. B’Elanna wishes it was easier to rile her up. No fun at all.

“The women she has at her table all wear jewelry signaling that that’s what they’re looking for and look at Resh’s chains and the metal piece on her right hand. She’s signaling that she’s looking for someone to rough up, to put it mildly. So I doubt she’d want us there unless we advertise ourselves as such”, B’Elanna says, stepping up to the bar and shouting at the barmaid in Klingon to get her attention and buy her and Seven a drink.

“You have extensive knowledge about these things, Lieutenant.”

B’Elanna hands Seven a drink.

“I dabbled. Back in my academy days.”

“Dabbled”, Seven repeats. “You have had many relations with male crew-members over the course of our journey, but none with female crew-members.”

“Seven, I’m not going to discuss my sexual preferences with you while we’re on a job”, B’Elanna says and Seven opens her mouth, closes it again and sniffs her drink before pulling a face that makes B’Elanna laugh.

“That’ll put some chest on your chest”, she says with a big grin and throws her drink back.

“I doubt that I need more ‘chest’ on my chest”, Seven says and it makes B’Elanna laugh more. She looks at Seven’s cleavage and then back up.

“Yeah. Maybe not.”

Seven sips her drink and looks as if she would love nothing more than to spit it back out. But, like a brave Klingon warrior, Seven swallows her small sip and then turns her back to Sukav Resh.

“If you have intricate knowledge of these… mating rituals. Then we should make use of them to get to the target. What kind of jewelry do I need to—signal all of that. What you said before.”

“You mean that you’re a submissive bottom who wants to be—“

“Yes. That”, Seven interrupts. Maybe her cheeks look a little red, but maybe it’s just the drink or the lighting. Either way, B’Elanna finds herself weirdly charmed by it. It’s not often that you see Seven of Nine even remotely flustered.

“You don’t have to do it. I doubt you’d survive two seconds at that table. I can do it. I’ll get the information we need and when I have it we’ll find the backroom they do their business in”, B’Elanna says, opening up her vest and starting to rummage around in her pockets. She finds what she’s looking for and hands Seven a heavy necklace while she puts three metal bracelets on her left wrist.

“You had all of this at home”, Seven says and it’s not a question. B’Elanna does not comment on it. She takes Seven’s drink from her, throws the rest of it back and then tousles her own hair some more before walking over to where Sukav Resh is sitting. She can immediately feel herself be appraised as she approaches and there’s a familiar tingle that makes its way up her spine and back down into her fingertips.

It’s been a very long time since B’Elanna went to a bar like this and what Seven said is true. But it’s surprisingly easy to fall back into old habits, even if those habits have been put away for a long time. She has no idea what Seven is up to, if she’s watching or buying another drink. The dagger in Resh’s hand spins and B’Elanna smiles before she punches one of the women sitting at Resh’s table square in the face, sending her backwards over a chair.

“So. I can see there’s a seat free here”, she says, grabbing the drink of the woman she just hit and throwing it back. Resh stares up at her and then she starts laughing, hitting the table with one hand.

“I can appreciate some healthy competition. You here to play?”, she asks, looking at the bracelets on B’Elanna’s wrist and the chain dangling between her boobs.

“Why else would I sit here?”, she says, holding out her hand for the dagger. Resh’s grin grows sharp as she hands it over.

“Well then. Let’s play.”

One of the reasons why B’Elanna stopped going to these kinds of bars is because of her non-existent ability to regulate her own risk-seeking behavior. Getting through the academy days was already shitty enough without running to the medical facilities every second weekend. The looks of the nurses when they saw the bite marks were usually enough to make B’Elanna’s skin crawl with old, internalized issues she never really dealt with.

Being thrown back into it is… weird. And thrilling. B’Elanna likes being rough and she likes it the other way around too, she simply has a preference of roughing up men and being roughed up by women. Seven doesn’t need to know that. B’Elanna might have thought about Seven being just as strong as a Klingon with her Borg enhancements. Usually the people B’Elanna fights—or fucks—can’t hold a candle to her strength. Most of them are humans.

But Seven could probably—well. It doesn’t matter. It’s not a road B’Elanna should go down. She has a job to do and a kid to raise with a husband she’s getting divorced from. Adding sexual desires for her former Borg colleague to the mix would simply complicate things too much.

After half an hour B’Elanna is tipsy bordering on drunk, has three minor stab wounds in her arm and has been promoted to sit on Resh’s right thigh. This is definitely not how she saw the night going. She has the info. But she needs an out so she can reconvene with Seven to find the backroom for that damned business transaction. Resh grabs B’Elanna’s chin roughly and turns it towards her face. B’Elanna maybe licks her lips, trying her hardest to remember that she’s here on a mission and that she’s on duty—but she doesn’t have to ponder this for very long, because right as she’s about to elbow her way out of this situation, she’s pulled out of Resh’s lap and before B’Elanna can say anything to stop it, Resh is thrown halfway across the room.

“The game is over”, Seven says, cheeks a little flushed and hair in slight disarray. It looks really good on her.

“What are you doing?”, B’Elanna hisses, trying not to stare at Seven’s cleavage or to think about how hot it is that Seven can throw a Klingon across a room as if they weigh nothing. Thankfully Klingons love bar brawls, fights and any kind of violence, so the second Resh is thrown over to the dance-floor, three full brawls erupt and they manage to duck away into one of the side rooms.

“Do you have the information”, Seven says, making her question sound like a statement as she’s so often want to do.

“I do. I could have gotten out of there by myself, you know”, she says, feeling a little flustered. Seven raises one eyebrow.

“I am sure you could have. But I was being propositioned by nine different women while you were gone and I was tired of waiting.”

B’Elanna snorts and looks around.

“The backroom is down this corridor. Third door on the right”, B’Elanna says, looking around. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be here—“

Right on cue there’s a commotion at the entrance of the corridor and some shouting about “They went that way!” and B’Elanna doesn’t really have any great ideas aside from the one.

“Follow my lead”, she hisses and grabs Seven by the collar. Seven looks quizzical, eyes darting around to find an out. There is none. So B’Elanna does the only thing she can think of to justify them being in this corridor without immediately being thrown out by a bunch of angry Klingon lesbians.

She tucks on Seven’s collar, hard, pulling her down and forward before she presses herself against the wall, hoping that Seven gets the gist of it. The seconds their mouths collide Seven makes a sound that is half surprise, half something else and B’Elanna finds herself reveling in it, blood boiling and heat rushing through her body.

Seven’s lips are incredibly soft and incredibly clumsy.

But despite her obvious discomfort and surprise, she reacts immediately, grabbing B’Elanna’s wrists and pinning them to the wall above her head. B’Elanna tries to tug on them and yes. It would take her serious effort to get out of this. She makes a big show to struggle against Seven’s grip, kissing her hard and with most likely too much tongue and teeth for Seven’s liking, but the second the voices come closer and two people stare down the corridor there’s just loud laughter and some crude whistling before the women disappear to leave them to their make-out session.

B’Elanna almost forgets that this is her colleague and that they’re undercover, because her tongue in Seven’s mouth feels incredible and the tight grip restraining her is making her heart soar. Seven’s boobs are pressed up against her and… yeah. It’s hot. Hot as fuck.

The second they’re alone in the corridor again Seven releases B’Elanna’s grip and pulls back from the kiss. Her cheeks are bright red now and her hair has given up on staying tied up entirely. B’Elanna thinks she should wear it like this more often. They stare at each other, both of them breathing hard.

B’Elanna licks her lips.

“Sorry. That was my only idea”, she says a little sheepishly. Seven swallows visibly, then turns her head away.

“I will live”, she says, deadpan. B’Elanna laughs, a little breathlessly. So they make their way down the corridor and B’Elanna tries to think as clearly as possible through the alcohol and the aroused haze that has taken over her brain now.

There’s a beat of silence as they inch forward. Then.

“Will you explain the jewelry to me after this is over? For… scientific research.”

B’Elanna has to stifle a laugh and presses a fist against her mouth. The mouth that was just kissing Seven a few seconds ago.

“Sure thing, Seven. I can help you do some research.”

This mission definitely didn’t go as B’Elanna expected. But apparently that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

#startrekfemslashweek2024 #b'elanna torres #b'elanna x seven #seven of nine #star trek voyager #star trek fic #star trek voy #mi writes #femslash #sry i'm late for prompt no1 but..... better late than never #throwing my klingon lesbian hanky code at you. also belanna deserves to be vulgar and say fuck

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electronickingdomfox · 3 months ago

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"The IDIC Epidemic" review

Novel from 1988, by Jean Lorrah. Sort of a sequel to her previous book ("The Vulcan Academy Murders"), the enemy this time is a strange virus that mutates really fast, and is decimating a colony with its increasingly deadly strains. Given the origin of the virus, and its ultimate cure, the main theme is the defense of diversity (racial or cultural) over segregation and prejudices. Which is, definitely, a very Star Trek theme, though the novel also acknowledges the difficulties in such a diverse society, and how fragile it can be.

Despite what the cover would suggest, Kirk, Spock and McCoy are mere secondary characters. Most of the story focuses instead on new introductions, like the Klingon Korsal and his sons, or the Vulcan T'Pina. Healer Sorel, his associate Daniel Corrigan, and the obnoxious Sendet return from the previous book. Sarek and Amanda are also there, though their presence feels more like fanservice this time, as there's no particular reason for them to figure in the story.

As for the novel itself, I couldn't really get into it. The narrative switches perspectives continually, so I found impossible to focus long enough on one plot thread to get invested in it. And didn't find the characters all that engaging. There's simply too many things going on at the same time, and even if all the subplots revolve around the epidemic, it's quite distracting. Your mileage may vary, of course; I'm just not a fan of this technique of "multiple threads".

This time I'm just going to give an overview of the separate stories of each character, with minimal spoilers, as they progress kind of independently to each other:

On the one hand we have Korsal, the only Klingon in the scientific, multicultural colony of Nisus. He's much more of an intellectual and pacifist than your average Klingon, and faces prejudice both from his fellow scientists and his relatives back at home. His two sons are half human, on top of that, so Korsal is worried about their future and the possibility of either the Federation or the Empire accepting them. Much of his story deals with the bonding between Korsal and his older son Kevin, as they try to help against the plague and a breaking dam, which threatens to flood the entire city. Korsal and his family also prove instrumental in finding a cure (though partial) for the virus.

T'Pina is an adopted Vulcan of uncertain origin, returning now to her native Nisus after completing her studies, and hoping to do something about the crisis. As Korsal, she also turns out to be a key to defeat the virus, but much of her storyline is mired by sappy (and kind of cringe) romance. As an aside, there's something about the way this author writes relationships that rubs me the wrong way. First, Amanda's statement that there's more differences between the thinking of males and females, than between humans and Vulcans. Or Kirk getting distracted by how attractive is a Starfleet female Commander, who's actually seriously sick, and trying to explain the dire situation to him. There's also a certain obsession to get every single character married at the end: a couple of widowed Vulcans that just met (and that haven't yet overcome their grief); or even Spock, who tells his mother about the "several suitable women he met", and his intention to marry upon leaving Starfleet (sure, Spock, keep telling us about your imaginary girfriends...). I know I'm nitpicking here, but all this made me roll eyes several times.

The medical team of McCoy, Sorel and Daniel (with occasional help from Spock) is tasked with cracking the virus' pattern of mutation, and developing a vaccine. The way they find the origin and nature of the virus is interesting, with actual analytical work. Though developing a cure turns out to be rather a matter of luck, and several happy (and unlikely) coincidences.

On the villain side we have Sendet, a Vulcan supremacist, who uses the virus to justify his views against mixed races. He and the other followers of T'Vet are being transported by the Enterprise to a different colony, since their views go against Vulcan culture. They cause a lot of problems in the ship. Problems that could have been easily avoided if Kirk had just... put them in the brig the first time.

Spirk Meter: 2/10*. When Spock falls sick with the virus, Kirk feels frustrated for not being able to see him. And even though he knows his presence wouldn't change anything, he still believes that Spock could somehow draw strength from his being there.

As for Spones, Spock insists on accompanying McCoy to Nisus, against Kirk's orders, and under the pretext of the doctor needing his logic. Spock feels also protective of him, telling McCoy to be careful around the virus. And Kirk comments that Spock and McCoy are "one of a kind"; which both quickly deny, in unison. Apart from this, much emphasis is put on the idea that Vulcans leave their katra to their spouses upon dying... Which has some "implications" for Spock and McCoy's later story (though I somehow doubt the author would acknowledge the parallelism).

*A 10 in this scale is the most obvious spirk moments in TOS. Think of the back massage, "You make me believe in miracles", or "Amok Time" for example.

#star trek tos #star trek novels #novel review #spirk #spones #k/s

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anonymousewrites · 7 months ago

Text

Logos and Pathos (AOS Edition) Chapter Two

AOS! Spock x Empath! Reader

Chapter Two: In the Academy

Summary: (Y/N) continues on in Starfleet and meets someone unusual, but not unlikeable, at the Academy.

(Y/N) focused intently on their notes in the lecture. Stubbornly, they ignored the feelings of confusion and general negativity that always accompanied higher-level lectures. Some students just never had a good time. But (Y/N) was determined to focus through the haze of emotions. They had been around empaths their entire life—a few non-psychics with less psychic presence wouldn’t be a problem.

“That’s all for today,” said the instructor, and everyone packed up and left.

(Y/N) threw their back over their shoulder and walked out of the room. In their head, they planned how they were going to fit the homework for this class into their study schedule for midterms coming up.

“Hey, (L/N), do you want to study later?” said their friend Uhura—a student a few years behind them but advanced enough in languages to be taking communications courses with them.

“Sure,” said (Y/N), smiling. “But is your roommate Gaila coming?”

“I don’t think so. She’s going out tonight on another date,” said Uhura.

“She isn’t bringing another guy back to your room, is she?” said (Y/N).

“I hope not. I’m going to have to talk to her about that if we keep rooming for the next few years,” sighed Uhura.

(Y/N) chuckled.

“I wish I was in your year, and then I could room with you,” said Uhura.

“I have my own room for accommodations against being constantly overwhelmed by others’ emotions,” said (Y/N). Their empathy wasn't a disability, but it was a cause for accommodations where they could be given, and Starfleet was committed to serving the different needs of its students. “So I don’t think that would happen.”

“Oh, right,” said Uhura, nodding. “How are the rest of your classes going?”

“I’m in my last year, so they’re just getting harder and harder,” said (Y/N), smiling.

“I still have like…two years until that level of difficult,” said Uhura. “For most of my courses, anyways.”

“Don’t you have three years of school left?” said (Y/N), raising an eyebrow.

“I’m going to finish early,” said Uhura confidently.

“That’s going to be a lot of hard work, but if anyone can do it, it’s you,” said (Y/N).

The pair walked into one of the dining halls and went to grab food.

Uhura grinned. “I’m glad someone takes me seriously. Sometimes some of the students are so condescending. Especially the ones in our communications class.”

“Right, they think because they’re older they’re smarter,” said (Y/N), laughing and rolling their eyes.

“Are they like that with you?” asked Uhura.

“A bit, yeah,” said (Y/N). “I don’t go around talking about test scores or grades with everyone, so they think that I’m not doing well.”

“I’ve heard them mention your psychic abilities. Does the empathy make it harder?” asked Uhura.

“No,” said (Y/N), smiling. “Some people don’t want to take me seriously because I’m an empath and focus on emotions.”

“Ugh, are they some of those ‘facts over feelings’ people who just ignore that the world needs both?” said Uhura, rolling her eyes.

“You’re perceptive as ever,” said (Y/N), laughing and sitting down with their friend.

However, Uhura’s words rang true. Due to their attractive features and impressive empathy, people perceived them as weaker than they really were. They were constantly underestimated, not taken seriously. They didn’t see (Y/N)’s ability to sense emotions as an advantage; they saw it as a weakness because, to them, emotions clouded judgement.

They couldn’t see the whole picture. (Y/N) could. In the real world, facts were helpful, but the emotions within people, people affected by facts, were just as significant. (Y/N) understood that, so no matter how many times people overlooked their dedication to Starfleet as a passing folly of someone in tune with emotions.

“Hey, (L/N), what are you up to today?”

(Y/N) sighed as the familiar emotions that made them disgusted flew over them and they turned to see the face of a familiar classmate.

“Flynn,” said (Y/N) civilly. “I’m studying.”

“Are you sure you’re not interested in going out? Tonight? With me?” said Flynn, grinning.

And there was the beauty issue. It wouldn’t be a problem if (Y/N) was just attractive and that was it. But no. People had to make it a problem by thinking that they were just a pretty face. That they were making their way through the academy by being attractive and giving a smile to everything. That they were someone everyone could flirt with successfully.

(Y/N) certainly couldn’t change anyone’s mind on the first two issues. But the third was not something they let slide. They were their own person and deserved to be respected as such.

“No, I’m not,” said (Y/N). “I’m studying tonight.”

“Oh, come on, it could be fun,” said Flynn. “I know how to have a good time.” He winked.

“They gave you their answer, Flynn,” shot back Uhura. “Go back to your friends and leave us alone.”

“I’m waiting for their answer,” snapped Flynn.

“Which I already gave you. Twice. I’m not interested in you,” said (Y/N), lacing their fingers. “So I’d appreciate being left alone.”

Flynn scowled and stomped away.

Uhura rolled her eyes. “What a jerk.”

(Y/N) waved a hand. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. His pride is wounded. He won’t try it again.”

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that,” said Uhura.

“It’s alright. We’ve all had bad experiences with people,” said (Y/N), smiling.

They just got more than others since they had a bit more of an attractive face than others. Luckily, (Y/N) could sense people’s emotions when they approached them and knew if any connection was going to be genuine or for the sake of their own fun. And (Y/N) knew one thing: they weren’t going to date anyone that didn’t really care about them as a person above anything else.

(Y/N) sighed as they checked the clock. “I should head back to my dorm,” they said. “I have a longer walk than you, and I have a lab in the morning.”

“Alright,” said Uhura. “I should sleep, too. I have an exam tomorrow.”

“Good luck,” said (Y/N), waving as they left.

They headed through the Science Quad of Starfleet Academy towards the upper-classroom dorms. The sun had set already, but lights illuminated the well-worn paths. (Y/N) hoisted their bag farther on their back as they passed the largest lab building.

“Hey.”

(Y/N) stopped as a voice called out to them from the lawn next to them. Flynn stepped out, flanked by his friends Stephenson and Boone. Feeling the tension of their emotions resting heavy in the air, (Y/N) narrowed their eyes.

“You still uninterested in going out?” said Flynn, crossing his arms.

“Yes,” replied (Y/N) instantly. “I’m heading back to my dorm.”

“Oh, then how about I come with you?” said Flynn, and his friends snickered.

“I’m not interested in you, Flynn, or what you have in mind,” said (Y/N). “Leave me alone.”

“Hey, don’t be so mean to Flynn. He’s a really great guy,” said Stephenson, stepping up.

(Y/N) gripped the strap of their bag tighter. “That doesn’t mean I have to be interested in them.”

“Oh, come on, a nice, handsome guy deserves such a pretty person,” said Boone. “Just give him a chance.”

(Y/N) glanced around. They were alone. “No. I’ve made myself clear. If you continue to harass me, I’ll report you.”

“Report me? Why? We’re just having a conversation,” said Flynn, stepping a pace closer.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t take another step towards me. I know what you feel. Just leave me alone.”

“Don’t be so rude,” said Boone.

“We’re being nice,” said Stephenson.

“Come on, just try having some fun,” said Flynn, reaching out.

The moment his hand touched (Y/N)’s arm, the emotions became unbearable, and (Y/N) reacted to protect themself. They swung their back, and it hit Flynn in the face. He fell back to the ground. Stephenson and Boone jumped in surprise and turned towards (Y/N).

“Don’t touch me,” said (Y/N), holding their bag tightly. “Don’t ever touch me.”

They were ready to swing again. Backing up, they kept an eye on Boone while Stephenson helped Flynn up. Only one option left. (Y/N) turned and ran. They ran until they were out of breath, legs burning from strain, and safely back in their dorm.

(Y/N) frowned and held their bag tightly. They had never had anyone trying to flirt with them go so far. (Y/N) had a feeling—that had nothing to do with their empathy—they had just brought trouble to their life.

But I did the only thing I could. It was the logical thing.

“Cadet (L/N)?”

(Y/N) looked up from their books to see an academy administrator standing next to them. They quickly stood at attention.

“Sir,” they said.

“Cadet (L/N), you are requested to come before the Starfleet Academy Committee of Student Behavior for a disciplinary hearing,” said the officer.

“May I ask for what, sir?” asked (Y/N).

“For violence against another cadet.”

Flynn.

“Cadet (L/N), you stand accused of an act of unprovoked violence against a fellow Cadet, Cadet Flynn,” said the leader of the disciplinary committee, Barnett.

(Y/N) stood before them, circled by men and women with severe expressions in grey uniforms. They straightened their shoulders, wearing their red uniform proudly.

“The accusation is substantiated by Cadet Boone and Cadet Stephenson,” said another council member.

(Y/N) didn’t glance to their left where Boone, Stephenson, and Flynn sat. Their smug satisfaction was smog in the air.

“What have you to say in defense?” said another counselor.

“I admit I was in an altercation with Cadet Flynn,” said (Y/N) firmly. “But Cadet Flynn initiated. I responded in self-defense.”

“That is not what Cadets Flynn, Stephenson, and Boone claim,” said the counselor. “They claim you lost control of your anger and frustration due to the pressure of testing.”

Using emotions against me because I’m an empath. (Y/N) refused to show their annoyance.

“What do you claim occurred?” said Barnett.

“Cadet Flynn accosted me with Cadets Stephenson and Boone. I attempted to leave the situation, but Cadet Flynn turned physical, so I defended myself from harm,” said (Y/N).

“Do you have anyone to substantiate your claims?”

(Y/N) paused. “No.” Flynn’s self-satisfaction grew.

“If I may.”

All eyes turned to one of the officers observing the hearing. The room was large, but since this wasn’t a large issue, only the committee, cadets involved, and any officer who wished to be up-to-date with the issues of the academy (some were very involved in improving the campus so kept informed on these types of problems and altercations).

The officer stood in a grey commander’s uniform. He had short, black hair and brown eyes. Severe eyebrows were offset by pointed years. He was a Vulcan.

“Commander Spock,” acknowledged Barnett. “State your business.”

“I am a witness to the altercation in this hearing,” said Spock.

(Y/N) furrowed their brow. But there had been no one around. Still, the fear that spiked through Flynn, Boone, and Stephenson satisfied (Y/N).

“I was in the laboratory preparing scenarios for a new Kobayashi Maru simulation,” said Spock. “I noticed a group of cadets outside of the window due to the strategic placement of Cadets Boone, Flynn, and Stephenson around Cadet (L/N). It was an attack formation like that of starships.”

“We were just talking to them and standing there,” burst out Flynn defensively.

His nerves betrayed the lie to (Y/N)’s empathy, but that didn’t matter.

“Sit down, Cadet Flynn. You will begin another chance to speak if you wish,” said the counselor severely, and Flynn wilted. “Continue, Commander Spock.”

“Cadet Flynn, Cadet Stephenson, and Cadet Boone moved closer to Cadet (L/N), who attempted to extricate themself from the situation,” said Spock. “Cadet Flynn then grabbed Cadet (L/N)’s arm. Cadet (L/N) swung their bag and hit Cadet Flynn in order to separate themself from any farther harm.” He held himself formally, and his gaze flicked out over the group. “They did not initiate the altercation and acted only to escape the dispute.”

“Cadet Flynn, you may speak again,” said Barnett.

“He’s lying. I don’t know why, but it’s not true. That Vulcan is just covering for the empath, another psychic, messing up and losing control,” said Flynn, panicked and emotional.

Not acting rationally. A mistake in this situation, thought (Y/N).

“I am a Vulcan, Cadet,” said Spock. “I do not lie.”

Flynn paled. Not only was that a true, known statement, but Flynn had just made a bigoted statement against a commanding officer, a distinguished graduate of Starfleet Academy.

“Thank you, Commander Spock,” said Barnett.

Spock nodded.

“Cadet Flynn, Cadet Boone, Cadet Stephenson, we will reconvene tomorrow for a disciplinary hearing on your actions,” said Barnett, looking at the three men. “Cadet (L/N), you will be called as a victim in the incident, but you may leave for now.”

“Thank you, sir,” said (Y/N).

“I’m glad those three got what they deserved,” said Uhura after (Y/N) explained everything that had happened. “Otherwise I would’ve been in an ‘unprovoked altercation with them.’ No one hurts my friend.”

(Y/N) laughed at Uhura’s fierce loyalty. She was truly a great friend. “Thanks, Uhura.”

“At least Commander Spock in defense of you,” said Uhura. “Cadets and officers respect him.”

(Y/N) nodded. “It was my word against three men, so his statement helped.” They paused as they saw the very man they were speaking about walking across the quad. “Oh, there he is.”

“I can tell you want to go and speak to him,” said Uhura.

“I didn’t get a chance to say thank you for his appearance during the hearing,” confirmed (Y/N).

“Go on. It’s almost class time for me, anyways,” said Uhura. “Bye!”

(Y/N) waved before walking across the quad. “Commander Spock?”

He paused and turned to face them. “Cadet (L/N),” he acknowledged.

“I wanted to thank you for speaking at my hearing,” said (Y/N).

“It was three men accosting a single individual. It was evident their words would be taken against yours, even if a lie. The logical choice was to step in,” said Spock.

(Y/N) nodded in understanding. “It was still helpful, so thank you.”

“Do you have a class?” said Spock.

“No,” said (Y/N), shaking their head. “Not for another hour.”

“Would you be opposed to answering a few questions in regard to your empathy as a Celian? I have not met another, and I appreciate an understanding of the more promising cadets graduating,” said Spock.

I’m a promising cadet? (Y/N) stood a little taller. They had been working very hard for years to prove their skill. To hear it recognized felt nice.

“I don’t mind answering any questions,” said (Y/N), smiling.

Spock nodded and began walking once more, likely towards his office or a lab. (Y/N) followed alongside him.

“What is your specialty?” said Spock.

“Negotiations and Communications,” said (Y/N).

“Your empathy assists you in gauging reactions,” said Spock, nodding.

(Y/N) nodded. “But I work around it when I can’t sense their emotions,” said (Y/N), smiling.

“There are limits in all psychic abilities,” said Spock. He glanced at them. “Are you able to sense my emotions?”

“No. Vulcans do not embrace or react with their emotions, and they have psychic blocks for just such things, so I cannot sense their emotions,” said (Y/N), smiling. They didn’t mind having a “weakness.” They didn’t need to sense everyone’s emotions all the time. They were good with people anyways. “Though I likely could if I touched someone blocking their emotions. The contact allows for a connection to form.”

Spock nodded. These were logical vulnerabilities and solutions. “And Celians embrace their emotions.”

“Well, we had to,” said (Y/N), laughing lightly. “Our planet found peace by embracing the idea of respecting others’ emotions and working together when someone is in pain. If we hadn’t, we would have destroyed ourselves.”

“A very different culture from Vulcan,” said Spock. Celia’s solution to strife was to embrace emotion; Vulcan’s solution was to reject emotion. “Fascinating.”

“It is interesting,” agreed (Y/N). “But they both found peace, so that’s what matters. I think the humans call it ‘two sides of the same coin.’ ” Their golden eyes gleamed in amusement. “Logos and pathos.”

Spock raised a brow in the slightest betrayal of mirth. “Quite.”

Taglist:

@a-ofzest

@grippleback-galaxy

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@neenieweenie

@keylimeconstellation

@wormwig

@technikerin23

@ilyatan

@nthdarkqueen

@kyalov

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ifdragonscouldtalk · 14 days ago

Note

all your titles look so interesting!!! please tell me about the 5+3 classic, tell me you love me in private, and/or Spones First Contact

The 5+3 Spones is something I've unfortunately never started because I couldn't come up with enough plot points in which Spock and Kirk kept having to get fake-married that didn't seem overdone. I don't have enough confidence in my writing abilities to redo super well done tropes without a fun spin on them, mainly because I find writing more boring than reading. As much as I like the Spock and Kirk have to get married trope when I'm reading it, writing it is a different question. If I ever come up with the other three spirk fake marriage points though, it's a fic I'd LOVE to actually get to write, because there just isn't enough Spones fics out there.

Here's what I do have:

5+3 classic spirk keeps getting accidentally married but its actually spones 1 classic jim and spock get married for diplomatic reasons (bones actually finds this amusing. so does jim. spock not so much but it’s tolerable.) 2 no word for first officer so they have to act married (this one is a little less tolerable for spock, but bones still finds it pretty funny, although he grumbles about it with uhura and chapel and scotty) 3

+1 for jim and bones being married (what do you MEAN you don't honor your doctor with marriage to the highest position?) ((spock realizes hes actually jealous and being insecure because bones and jim are a more logical match than him and bones)) (((jim joking about how if he keeps getting annulments starfleet is going to talk and bones joking “wouldn’t want that honey”)) ((((people joking about mckirk’s time at the academy when they were inseparable and it reminds spock that he’s not part of the same group as the rest of the enterprise, he was their instructor and sometimes they still see him that way)))) (((((people asking jim which one of them was the better husband and of course he says bones of course he says leonard spock can’t adequately provide for the emotional needs of a human not one like jim or leonard who are so different from his mother and michael and he and len are like night and day who was he deluding himself))))) +1 spock and bones getting married on a mission +1 for spones actual wedding

That's currently the entirety of the document.

#talon writes #star trek #shut up talon #ask game #fic title game

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tigerexe · 5 months ago

Note

so you seem like a saavik fans, maybe youll have an answer for this. whats her deal? i thought she was like spock adopted daughter, but did she actually sleep with him??? thats very weird

I'm THE Saavik fan and I will happily clear this up!

Saavik is kind of a schrödinger's cat situation depending on How Canon you decide certain things are, but here are the facts:

Heres what happens ON screen, not taking into account beta canon or scrapped/deleted scenes yet:

-Saavik is Spock's student/protege, their past is unknown but they speak vulcan when in private and seem pretty at ease with eachother and Saavik sheds tears openly at Spock's funeral

- Saavik and David find reincarnated baby Spock on the Genesis planet and take care of him as he matures rapildy

- when genesis Spock (for some fucking reason) starts going through ponn farr as a teenager Saavik does some vulcan hand stuff that calms him down, next scene theyre seen sleeping leaning on eachother

- when the enterprise crew leaves vulcan to go on their whale adventure, Saavik decides to stay on vulcan and is never seen again in canon

So yeah, not much to go on besides the TSFS ponn farr scene which of course carries implications but is almost completely off screen and kept PG, so it's kind of up for the viewers interpretation

Where things get interesting is when we look at beta canon and plot threads dropped from the movies:

-in a deleted TWOK scene, Spock says Saavik is half romulan, half vulcan, but its left at that

-this plot is picked up MY FAVOURITE star trek novel, The Pandora Principle, in which Saavik is born as essentially a genetic experiment on a romulan military base, lived as a starving feral child for 10 years until Spock finds her on a mission. Spock takes leave from the Enterprise and lives with 10 yo Saavik for at least a year and stays in almost daily contact once Saavik enters the starfleet academy. their familial bond is explored in the novel, but never referred to anything else besides student and teacher. Its also a very very good book i think everyone should read

-meanwhile back in dropped plots from the movies, it was planned for Saavik to become PREGNANT with Spock's child after the ponn farr scene in TSFS, which is why she stays on vulcan to take maternity leave in TVH 🤮🤮🤮 this was thankfully cut by Nimoy himself because he was really uncomfortable with it.

-in the last TOS movie, Spock has a new protege, a vulcan girlie named Valeris. She was originally going to be Saavik, but the actress was unavalible so they just made a new character. SPOILERS for star trek 6 but Valeris betrays the Federation and Spock in the process, and it is safe to assume if the character had remained as Saavik, she wouldve done the same thing in the script.

-jumping forward to TNG, Picard has the line "I met [Sarek] once, at his son's wedding." It is never elaborater on WHICH son or WHOMST the son was marrying, and when Spock actually appears in TNG no wife is ever seen or mentioned. But in the novel "a Vulcans Heart" the wedding was between Spock and Saavik. I have not read said novel and never will 😬 its apparently a series of novels as well

-misc. beta canon appearences happen in the comics as well, most of which i havent read, but at least a couple seemed to loosely follow the origins established in the Pandora Principle, i.e Saavik is half romulan and rescued by Spock as a child

Tl;dr

Canonically Saavik is Spock's student, anything else is up to viewer interpretation and what beta canon you prefer

PERSONALLY i fully subscribe to the canon the Pandora Principle weaves, and pick and choose my way when it comes to the movies (ignore the TSFS ponn farr scene entirely) and completely disregard anything else. I know its literally my own but I highly recommend this approach, Saavik is like my favourite Star Trek character because of it!

#hope this helps #i do not wish for anyone else to have to go through fandom wiki trivia pages to find this shit #anyway read the pandora principle

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deepspacedukat · 11 months ago

Text

Occupational Indulgence

Alright, I've been waiting to write this fic (and its sequel) for a while now, because it never felt like the right time. But it's here now. I fudged the dates of Mr. Eddington's assignment to DS9, but it's for my Pointy Man, so I don't care. This is part of Jorik's timeline with Jadzia.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Jorik (Vulcan OC)

[A/N: This is just a place-setting for the fic that will directly follow this in Jorik and Jadzia's timeline, so no warnings. Just fluff and Jorik being adorable.]

Warnings: Side characters involved in a romance, mild angst but not the romantic kind, angst about life in general, Jorik trying to justify his actions and potential future actions with logic.

~*~

**2371 - Stardate 48003.1 (January 2, Early Morning) - Aboard The USS Min'ow**

"I can't believe they're sending us to a Cardassian scrapheap way out in the middle of nowhere," one ensign grumbled over his breakfast. Despite the mess hall being practically full at this time of the morning, Lieutenant Commander Jorik was perfectly able to hear the ensign's complaints. For someone fresh out of Starfleet Academy, the younger officer didn't seem very enthused about his assignment. "Man, what I wouldn't have done to be posted on Enterprise. That must seem like a damn luxury liner compared to that Cardassian eyesore, am I right?"

One of the officers at his table was giggling at his remarks, batting her eyelashes at him as if her simpering might make him notice her existence. The other two were staring studiously down at their plates. A wise choice on their parts. The man being obnoxious was, unfortunately, under Jorik's command.

"Perhaps, Ensign Maxwell, you would prefer to remain here on the Min'ow and assist the engineering teams by scrubbing out the plasma manifolds on a daily basis?" Jorik called from his seat after delicately dabbing his lips with a napkin. "I'm certain they could use an extra hand, and I could ensure that you receive such an assignment if performing your security duties on Deep Space Nine is unappealing to you."

The man scoffed as he usually did.

"That won't be necessary. Sir." When he and the girl vying for his attention left the mess hall, Jorik noticed that the other two officers who'd been seated at that table looked vastly relieved. They were two of the hardest working people in his team.

"I trust the two of you have no such complaints?" Jorik was on the verge of smiling as he spoke to them. Ensigns Ava Hardy and Terry Giles had warmed to him quickly when they were assigned to his security team, and Jorik was quite content to consider them friends.

"Oh, not at all, sir," Ava said glancing at the other woman. "We're excited, actually. Bajor sounds like such a gorgeous planet."

"Yeah, I can't wait to take this one on shore leave there," Terry said dropping a kiss on her girlfriend's cheek. "And hey, who knows? Maybe this is the fresh start that we all need. What're you still doing over there, huh? The ugly bastard's gone. Come join us."

Jorik nodded his head and carried his plate over to their table. They would arrive at Deep Space Nine in less than an hour. He couldn't bring himself to tell them that this would be a rather short assignment for him, though. He did not wish to sour the remaining time that the three of them had together.

He'd tell them prior to his departure, of course, but right then all he wanted to do was savor the anticipation of a new assignment with them.

Anticipation. That was something else he would be giving up in a few weeks' time. Vulcans may not express their emotions as boisterously as other species, but they still experienced them just as keenly. He did not want to give that up, but...if his undergoing the kolinahr would placate his parents, then he would try it for them.

Luckily, Ava and Terry were so excited to be talking with him about Bajor and all the worlds beyond the wormhole that they didn't notice how quiet he'd become. They likely assumed he was just being courteous listening to them.

Good, Jorik thought, let them assume something positive. I do not wish for them to worry.

Just over an hour later, Jorik ascended the steps to the office that used to belong to the Prefect of Bajor. The doors slid open automatically, and he proceeded inside.

"Lieutenant Commander Jorik reporting for duty," he said standing at attention as soon as the door hissed closed behind him.

"Ah, yes. Captain Gifford mentioned that he was bringing us some extra security personnel. At ease, Mister Jorik. I'm Commander Benjamin Sisko. Welcome to Deep Space Nine." Commander Sisko stood and respectfully offered him the ta'al, which Jorik returned. "I trust your journey wasn't too rough?"

"Not at all, sir. My team and I are prepared to assist you however you require," he said walking over to his C.O.'s desk and handing him the PADD that contained his orders.

"Good, good. Then I'll introduce you to the Ops staff and take you to the security office so that Odo, the Bajoran chief of security, and Mr. Eddington of Starfleet security can brief you." One by one, Commander Sisko introduced him to Major Kira, Chief O'Brien, and the rest of of the senior officers. As they walked to the turbolift to head down to security, Commander Sisko conversed with Jorik about life on the station. "Oh, by the way, there is one senior officer whom you have yet to meet. My science officer, Jadzia Dax, is away on shore leave. She should be back in a few weeks."

Jorik's thoughts gnawed at him.

"Computer, halt turbolift," he called, and at the Commander's curious look, the Vulcan drew himself up to his full height. "Commander, I thank you for your hospitality. You have been very welcoming to me even though you have only met me today. I wish to be candid with you, sir. I will not be here on the station for more than a number of weeks."

Sisko lifted an eyebrow as he turned to face him.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Jorik took a deep breath and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Commander, my family...my parents have been rather...insistent that I return to Vulcan to fulfill an obligation. It is one that will take many years to complete, and they are becoming impatient," he explained. "It is likely that I will request an extended leave of absence from Starfleet in a few weeks' time in order to complete that task. I did not wish for you to be 'blindsided,' as your species might say, by the loss of an officer so soon after his acquisition."

The Commander nodded his head quietly as he processed what he's been told.

"Thank you for letting me know, and...well, I hope this isn't too presumptuous, but you sound a bit reluctant about returning home," Sisko observed, and Jorik dropped his gaze. "Lieutenant Comm– Jorik...I don't claim to know much about Vulcan customs, but make sure that your obligation, whatever it might be, is something that you want, not just something your parents want. It's your life, not theirs."

He looked up at his new C.O. only to find concern in his eyes.

"Thank you, Commander. I will take your words into consideration. No matter what my decision, though, I assure you that my team will do their best," Jorik murmured, then he had a thought. "I...have not informed them of my situation, however, thus I would be...grateful if this conversation could remain private."

"They won't hear it from me." When the turbolift's progress resumed, Jorik felt both a sense of relief - logical, given that he'd been honest with the Commander - and newly conflicted. His misgivings were illogical. He had no choice in the matter. Jorik would return to Vulcan and, for once in his life, ensure that his parents did not see him as a disappointment.

He would have to content himself with the knowledge that for once, he would be exactly what he was expected to be: A good, proper Vulcan.

"Jorik?" A voice snapped him out of his thoughts almost as soon as the lift doors opened onto the Promenade. He knew that voice, though it was different than before. A pair of wide green eyes met Jorik's, and all at once he recognized her.

The girl with the panda hat had grown up, and she was in a blue Starfleet uniform. Her curly brown hair had been tamed into a long braid down the back of her head.

"Cassandra?"

"You and Ensign Connor know each other?" The Commander asked from Jorik's side, but he hardly noticed. Cassandra held up a perfect ta'al just like he'd shown her sixteen years ago. Jorik returned the gesture, of course, and easily caught the young woman when she threw herself into his arms.

No self-respecting Vulcan would have stood for such a familiar, tactile gesture...which, Jorik guessed, was why he had no problem returning her embrace. He'd never been as stoic as the rest of his people, and he'd spent a significant amount of years amongst Humans. He'd secretly relished hugs from his former classmates when he received them at the Academy. Why shouldn't he? They were simply demonstrating through their own cultural practices that they bore him some sort of platonic affection, and did his own people expect him to cast aside their own saying, 'infinite diversity in infinite combinations'?

As for the young woman in his arms, he had always wondered what had happened to her. She'd seemed intelligent when he met her all those years ago, but even so, he hadn't expected her to remember something that for her must've been extremely trivial.

"I'm sorry for interrupting, Commander," Cassandra said to Sisko as she pulled back, "but I didn't think I'd ever see Jorik again. Hell, I didn't think that you'd remember me, even if I did. I'll leave you in peace, but if you're free later, maybe we could catch up sometime. If you want to, that is."

Her last remark was directed at the Vulcan officer who nodded his head.

"I would be pleased to...'catch up' with you when your duty shift permits, Ensign," he answered, and with a bright, warm smile, she excused herself. Perhaps these weeks prior to his departure would be more enjoyable than he'd anticipated. Forming a friendship with someone long lost in his past would make it even more difficult for him to leave, but he would still savor every moment.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

#deepspacedukat fic #Jorik of Vulcan #Ensign Cassandra Connor

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chicafinal · 6 months ago

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what if i re-read collision course. i mean its barely above your average starfleet academy au, but it has long haired spock in a printed book

#kirk and spock's first meeting being them getting arrested on the same night. already worth the price of admission tbh

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radioactive-earthshine · 1 year ago

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Hiii!! I love your KonBart content ♥️ Any thoughts about Bart and Kon in a Stark Trek AU?

vibrates violently. i love you.

Yes. Yes I have.

So.

I haven't seen a whole lot of Star Trek AUs for them (and I get it) but how I would approach it personally is two different ways;

One is where Kon and Bart both join Starfleet and more or less have their canon backstories (Kon is a clone, he broke out etc and Bart is from 1000 in the future). The world is more or less a hybrid of modern continuity DC comics and Star Trek during TOS era.

Kon joins in engineering - his TTK is extremely helpful. People look at his arms and think he should be in security. This annoys him greatly.

Bart is in the science division, and engineering, and communications, and navigation, and medical (once). Every time he shows up he's wearing a different uniform. This is purely a gag. There's a lot of whispers about what Bart is actually primarily focused in - everyone can just look it up of course but that just defeats the fun. Starfleet allows this because of his unique abilities and eidetic memory allowing him to perform multiple stations and fill in where needed.

The other iteration take both Bart and Kon in a more Star Trek-weird direction while being faithful to DC and I am more attached to this one as it feels more like a Star Trek AU rather than a Star Trek meets DC AU (we have those in canon actually, read them!).

In this Kon is a clone, but he's a relic of Krypton and is the Last Son instead of Kal-El. A ship found him in cryostasis and dated him as being over 200 years old. Doing DNA analysis they discovered that he was in fact half human but the other half of his DNA was a mystery entirely. The writing on his capsule was eventually deciphered, but the technology housing him is completely unknown.

There are a lot of mysteries about Kon that they slowly piece together, like his name, and about Kryptonians having made contact with 20th century Earth enough to obtain DNA samples to mix with theirs. Why he exists, what his purpose was, the soul crushing truth that Krypton no longer exists and all of its people are gone, extinct, all of these are slowly answered.

He does have his TTK in this, and one of the more hilarious things is Kon did not even know that being away from a yellow sun impacted his powers that much because he used his TTK for nearly everything. He just thought he had 'space sickness' when he was away from 'a planet' too long. The connection wasn't discovered until his TTK 'went weird' due to Romulan flu and while on a planet with a yellow sun he perked up amazingly fast and was still strong. It was a whole thing.

In this I'm leaning more towards him being in communications - because it gives him the best chances of finding out more about himself. He wants to study as much about other people as possible for anything he might be able to use to answer questions about himself.

Also, he was sent to Earth when he was found and he spent a little bit of time among the officers who found him in the first place. Commanders Jonathan and Martha Kent. They give him the name Conner and essentially adopt him, and it doesn't take him long to join Starfleet Academy himself.

Bart in this true to weird-Trek lore was a space anomaly. He appeared one day on Kon's ship and people thought they were at first just seeing things. Then they thought the damned holodeck was acting up. Because people would see him very often in holodeck programs over anything else. It's how Kon and him first met - but Kon of course thought he was an NPC that was just malfunctioning. It happens! But then he started appearing in other places of the ship as a bright yellow glowing sprite.

Bart has very little memories of who he was or what he's supposed to be doing, but he has a feeling he should be 'in the real world' but everything just is going either too fast, or too slow and he just... can't... stabilize.

Eventually, Kon is able to use his TTK to 'trap him' because he is the only one FAST enough to do this. Through shenanigans involving the transporter, science and Kon they are able to stabilize him and he is no longer in that strange speedforce entity state.

Bart sort of wavers in this between being physical and a speedforce being - is much less human and more fey. In fact, even when he does give them physical samples to analyze it is unlike anything they have ever seen and nothing in the known galaxy comes close to him.

Q doesn't fuck with him.

I just think it would be funny if he showed up, saw him, and turned around while saying "Nope!"

It's one of those mysteries that frustrate Starfleet High Command.

Because Bart is in this awkward state they had a plan to take him to earth for study and asylum, and even Vulcan was interested as well, but Bart despite wanting answers about himself and what he was supposed to do wanted to stay aboard the ship because of Kon.

Captain Cassandra "Cassie" Sandsmark fights for his case and Starfleet higher command approves it - she has a way of getting what she wants.

Kon and Bart bond because Kon knows what it is like to be confused about the world and who he is, so he acts as an anchor for him and reminds him that 'it doesn't matter who you were, it's who you are now and who you want to be that's important' .... He says it for Bart but he also says it a lot for him too.

I might write a little more on this odd AU but I have like 30 other projects.

#bartkon #konbart #bart allen #kon el #kon-el #conner kent #star trek au #bartkon star trek au #anon you made my fucking day i was waiting for an opportunity to talk about this au #mine

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geminiwritten · 2 years ago

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dr. dreamy ; bones

fandom: star trek

pairing: bones x reader

summary: it’s been a while since you’ve been laid, and it’s starting to affect your mood so jim offers his help before quickly realising that you’re still hung up on a mysterious ‘mr. dreamy’ from your academy days... but he soon finds out that the man you’ve been in love with for the past five years is, in fact, the enterprise’s best doctor

notes: did somebody say hyper-fixation? also, if you haven’t noticed already, i have a favourite formula... i wrote this while sick, so apologies if its crap, but let me know what you think!

warnings: swearing and horny

word count: 4173

The turbolift halts when it reaches the deck on which the upper-most access to the warp core is located. Your steps are sluggish, and the lace on your left boot is about five strides from falling untied, but you don’t really care to fix it even as you feel your boot go lax. Your heel begins to slip in and out of place just as you reach the door to one of the larger maintenance rooms.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Scotty asks as soon as he sees you.

You shrug, “just tired.”

“Too tired to remember where you’re s’pposed to be?” he stops you from picking up the spare pair of gloves from the bench, “first aid trainin’?”

A vague memory fights its way to the front of your mind, and you recall being ordered by Jim to attend the annual first aid training course that at least two crew members from each division were required to attend.

“Why me?” you sigh, “why can’t you be the first aid officer, or-or Ayden?” The young brunette lieutenant who was half-concealed behind a large metal tank pokes his head out.

“Because,” Scotty says, dismissing Ayden with a wave of his hand, “the capt’n requested you specifically, and I know he’s a bit of bastard sometimes but he’s still our capt’n.”

“He just wants me to suffer because he has to,” you grumble.

He chuckles as he grips your shoulders and physically turns you back toward the door, “I doubt you’ll be sufferin’ much, lassie, I heard the CMO himself is runnin’ this one.”

Your feet forget their steps and you stumble before catching yourself on the doorjamb. “W-Why is Bones running it? Isn’t he busy? He never does this kind of thing,” you say as you turn back to face Scotty.

He shrugs, “capt’n’s orders, I guess. Now go before you’re late.”

You drag your feet out the door, down the corridor, and into the lift once again, all the while muttering about all the ways you intend on getting back at Jim.

You met Jim on your second day at Starfleet Academy and were almost immediately joined at the hip, being one of the only women on campus who was immune to the man’s charm. Well, not entirely immune at first, but you’ve definitely built it up over the years. It took a whole twelve months before you met his other other half, the doctor, and no matter how many years you spend with that man, you will never be immune to Leonard McCoy. From the moment you met him, you knew you were doomed, though you still tried desperately to deny it and got pretty good at controlling your body’s reactions to him. Your thoughts, however, not so much.

For almost two whole years, you managed to keep your crush under wraps, even though it was quite literally crushing you. It was one drunken night when you finally confessed to Jim, not quite revealing the identity of the man you were in love with but giving him enough information that he actually comforted you. That was when you realised it was a lost cause, and you were condemned to pine after this man for all eternity, because even James Tiberius Kirk couldn’t make a joke about your heartache. He did, however, affectionately nickname this mysterious man ‘Mr. Dreamy’ and continue to ask you about him and allow you to vent. It was nice to not have to bottle it all up, but it felt strange talking to one of your best friends about the other without him even knowing that it was the other best friend that you were talking about. Your conscience certainly took a guilty blow every time you’d end up in tears in Jim’s arms, or have to quickly change the conversation because Leonard was approaching. Jim never questioned it though, nor did he push the topic when you stopped bringing it up once aboard the Enterprise, leaving him to assume that Mr. Dreamy was left behind at the academy.

“You’re late,” Jim says as you fall into the chair beside him.

“You’re ugly,” you retort.

The large conference room is devoid of the oversized table that usually sits at its center, instead there are only two smaller tables piled high with medical equipment surrounded by a number of limbless, humanoid dummies. You and Jim are sitting in the front row of the audience chairs, whereas most of the crew attending had opted for further back.

“That’s no way to speak to your captain,” he chuckles, “what’s got your panties in a knot?”

“My panties are neither yours nor Scotty’s business,” you snap, though as soon as the words leave your lips you know you’ve given away exactly the reason why they are in a proverbial knot.

You’ve been aboard the USS Enterprise for almost two years, which means it’s been two years and one month – give or take a day – since you’ve been laid, and holy shit are you frustrated. It isn’t that you have an aversion to sex, or are practicing abstinence, in fact, you have a very healthy enjoyment for the act. It just so happens that you can’t seem to want anyone other than the one man you can’t have, because who fucking knows what would happen if you went down that route after five long years of friendship.

Jim’s laughter turns into a childish giggle, “has it been a while?”

You roll your eyes, “yes, Jim, it’s been a while.”

“How long?”

You turn in your chair to face the curious man, “that is also none of your business.”

“You know,” he glances around the room, “I know for a fact that there are many lovely lieutenants aboard this ship who would be more than willing to scratch that itch for you.”

“Shut up,” you hiss, “and no. Do you know how complicated it can get when you sleep with someone you’re stuck on a spaceship with for five years?”

“I do, actually,” he replies, “I know very well, but that doesn’t mean we should have to ignore one of our most primal needs.”

“Primal needs,” you roll your eyes again, “I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine. Three more years won’t kill me.”

He gasps, “it’s been three years?”

You roll your eyes again so hard you’re sure you saw your brain, “Jim, you know very well it hasn’t been three years.”

“Wait, so you haven’t slept with any since… since we-”

“Nope,” you say, stopping him from finish that sentence.

Yep, you had sex with Jim Kirk, but in your defense, who hasn’t? It was a drunken night, one week from embarking on the Enterprise’s five-year journey, and you were both a little lonely and incredibly horny. It wasn’t half bad either, if only a little strange sleeping with one of your best friends while you were in love with the other.

“Holy shit, Y/N, I didn’t-”

“Of course you didn’t know, Jim,” you sigh, turning back to the front of the room, “besides it’s not like I haven’t had… options, I’m just not interested.”

He frowns, “don’t tell me you’re still hung up on Mr. Dreamy.”

You purse your lips to keep from laughing, not out of mirth but something more along the lines of grim amusement, and your silence is enough of an answer for Jim.

“Hey,” he places a hand on your arm, “you know, I wouldn’t object if you wanted me to… help you out again. Believe me it was no chore, I mean-”

“Jim!” you snap, “shut up before somebody hears you.”

His cheeky grin only grows wider, “come on, you think anyone on this ship would be surprised to find out we’ve slept together?”

Before you can reply, the sound of someone clearing their throat catches your attention, and you both snap toward the front of the room to find the doctor himself staring at you. His frown is harsher than usual, and his hair a little mussed, which only fills your inappropriate mind with a thousand different fantasies of the messy-haired doctor in your bed.

“Well,” Jim sighs, “maybe one person.”

You glance around to the find majority of the room watching you while the rest of them do anything they can to not witness this situation unfold.

“Sorry, Bones,” Jim says, “you can begin now.”

“Well, thank you, Jim,” the doctor replies sarcastically before turning his attention to the room, “now that our captain has given his blessing, let’s get started.”

Jim settles back in his chair, though his demeanor is less relaxed and a little more anxious than before. You keep your eyes trained on the holographic slides behind Leonard as he talks about first aid basics and what different codes and acronyms mean. You try your hardest not to look at him, but all you can think about is how much you want to jump his bones. His voice is still a little raspy from sleep, and you start to fantasize about how delicious his Southern drawl would sound whispered against your neck.

Your almost halfway through a dangerously vivid daydream when Jim nudges you. “Are you okay?” he asks, and only then do you realise that the rest of crew had begun packing away their chairs to make room on the floor.

You nod and stand, dragging your chair to the side while Jim retrieves one of the rubbery dummies from the front of the room. Everyone pairs off, and you sit on the opposite side of the dummy to Jim while he uses his PADD to pull up some notes.

“Now,” Bones says, “we’re going to practice a variety of different cardiopulmonary resuscitation techniques. The concept is the same, it just depends on the anatomy of the patient.”

Jim hands you the PADD and you start flipping through all the different diagrams of different species’ anatomies, each illustration pointing out the location of the body’s heart, lungs, and esophagus.

“How the hell does he remember all these?” you wonder aloud.

Jim chuckles, “why do you think he’s so grumpy all the time?”

You get up on your knees for a better angle at the dummy and place your hands over where the heart would be on a human.

“I have to ask,” he says before you can start practicing compressions, “how do you even know if Mr. Dreamy is still single? Why wait for him?”

“It’s not like I still think I have a chance with him,” you reply, “it’s just… complicated.”

“How could it be complicated? I know you’ve got your excuses, but if you’re so in love with this guy, what’s to lose if you just ask him out?”

You can’t help but glance over your shoulder at the doctor. He’s kneeling beside another pair and helping them with their hand placement.

“It just is,” you say, before starting CPR on your own dummy.

“Well,” Jim says, “my offer still stands, because who knows how long before you’re grumpier than the good doctor over there.”

You sit back on your heels and gesture for him to take his turn, deciding not to acknowledge his proposal. After taking turns on three different methods of CPR, the doctor appears beside you.

“Do you need any help?” he asks as he kneels on the floor, and you want to say yes but you know he’s only referring to the dummy.

“You underestimate us, Bones,” Jim replies, “we’re top of the class.”

“Sure you are,” Bones rolls his eyes, “show me then.”

Jim sits back and gestures for you to do the honors.

You turn to the doctor, and the butterflies in your stomach erupt into a frenzy. “J-Just human?” you ask, cursing yourself for stuttering.

He nods and you lean over the dummy, placing your hands over where the sternum would be and starting a rhythmic pulse of compressions.

“Harder,” he says, which almost makes your hands slip off the dummy entirely. “Don’t be scared to break a rib, I’m sure they’d prefer a broken bone over death.”

You take a deep breath to compose yourself and put a little more force into the compressions. After counting to thirty, you tip the head of the dummy back, pinch its rubbery nose, and act as if you’re blowing into its mouth without actually putting your lips on it. Then you return to performing compressions.

“Good girl,” the doctor praises, and your sure your heart stops just as your breath does. Your hands slip and you have to catch yourself on the floor to keep from faceplanting.

You sit back and stare at Bones’ arms as he rolls his sleeves up and positions himself over the dummy.

“Make sure you interlock your fingers,” he says, “and keep your arms extended, that way you won’t lose stability.”

You want to listen, but you can’t stop staring at his bare arms as he performs perfect CPR on the doll in front of you. His skin is tanned and taught across his strong muscles, honed from years of practicing to have the steadiest and most skilled hands in all of Starfleet. His hands, oh god, you’ve had countless dreams about them tangling in your hair and touching every inch of your body.

You shift a little to try and relieve the pressure building between your thighs.

“Jim,” Bones says, “your turn.”

You look up to find Jim staring at you, his brows furrowed and a question on his lips as he slowly moves to take over from the doctor. Once satisfied with Jim’s technique, Bones leaves to help another pair and you quickly start flipping through the PADD to find the next diagram.

“Y/N,” Jim says, his tone suddenly serious.

You glance up, your cheeks hot, “Captain.”

He stares at you, his blue eyes trapping you and stopping you from looking away no matter how much you want to.

“Holy shit,” you can practically see the lightbulb flash above his head, “holy shit, I can’t believe I didn’t notice! I mean, it’s so obvious, and- how the hell did I not realise? Holy shit.”

“Jim-”

“It’s Bones!” he exclaims, earning startled glances from the people surrounding you.

“Jim, please-”

“No, no, no, you’re not lying your way out of this one,” he says, “I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me that Mr. Dreamy- or should I say Doctor Dreamy is Bones.”

You sink onto your bum and cross your legs on front of you, leaning your elbows on your knees as you hide your face in your hands. “Jim, please don’t say anything,” you plead, “he can’t know, no one can know.”

“The way you look at him, the way you’ve always looked at him,” he goes on, though his voice is significantly lower, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice.”

Before you can say another word, Bones calls the room’s attention. Behind him, the holographic slides have changed to new points of information, and everyone falls silent to listen to the doctor’s speech.

You can see Jim squirming from the corner of your eye as you try to listen to the rest of the seminar, but it’s almost impossible to hear anything over the beating of your own heart. Heat washes over you in waves, ensuring your cheeks remain a bright shade of red and making your uniform feel itchy and tight. It feels like an eternity before Bones announces a break for lunch.

You grab Jim before he can move and begin dragging him out of the room, down the corridor, and into one of the smaller, vacant conference rooms.

He’s already giggling as you flop into one of the chairs, “you’re in love with Bones.”

You sigh, “yep.”

“And have been for five years?”

“Yep.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s stupid,” you reply, “and when I first met him, he was still getting over the divorce. Every time we’d drink together, he’d end up ranting about his ex and either make himself angry or upset. We all became such good friends, and before I knew it… I just didn’t want to ruin the friendship.”

“Ruin the friendship?” he repeats, “what are we? Teenagers in some old, soapy television drama?”

You shrug, “yes, I’m in love with him, but I’d rather have him in my life even just as a friend than not at all.”

“What makes you think he wouldn’t want to be with you?”

“Have you seen the women who hit on him?” you scoff, “and the women he’s been with? I could never-”

“Hey,” he interrupts you and pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “none of that. You’re gorgeous, and Bones would be an idiot not to agree.”

“Okay,” you swat his hand away, “say we did go out, but it didn’t go well, and then I’ve lost one of my closest friends and made it incredibly awkward for you. Not to mention being stuck on this damn ship with him for another three years.”

Jim huffs, his eyes boring into his own shoes. It looks as if he’s having his own argument in his head, his posture rigid and his lips set into a hard line.

“Jim, just promise-”

“Sorry to interrupt,” a red-shirted lieutenant pokes their head through the door, “but I actually have this room booked in five minutes.”

“Oh,” you stand and grab Jim’s arm, “sorry.”

You pull your captain into the corridor and begin back toward the big conference room.

“Y/N, just hear me out.”

You turn abruptly and push Jim against the wall with a hand on his chest, “no, Jim, you hear me out. You know how I feel, and you know how long I’ve felt like this, so don’t you dare try and tell me what I should do. Just because you now know it’s Leonard doesn’t change anything.”

“Okay,” he raises his hands in surrender, “okay, I’ll shut up, I’m sorry.”

You release him slowly and he lowers his hands.

“I have to admit though,” he smirks, “he’d be an excellent lay.”

“Jim!” you exclaim, your hands balling into fists at your side.

He chuckles and looks down the corridor, his grin disappearing the instant his eyes land on the doctor. You frown and follow his gaze before quickly taking two steps back from your captain.

Jim clears his throat, “Bones-”

“We’re starting again,” the doctor says, before turning sharply and walking back into the conference room.

Neither of you say another word as you reenter the room and take a seat in the front row once again. Leonard avoids looking your way for the rest of the afternoon, and though you can’t help but worry about what you’ve done wrong, it also allows you to stare at him unashamedly. You let your thoughts run wild, imagining his hands pinning your wrists down, his body on top of yours, and his mouth everywhere as he slowly unties that knot below your stomach that’s been twisting tighter and tighter for five years.

Eventually he calls the day to an end, and everyone thanks him before shuffling out of the room, everyone but Jim.

“Dinner?” you ask.

He takes a deep breath before standing, “I’ll be there soon, you go ahead.”

Your heart thuds nervously, but you stop yourself from questioning him any further and turn toward the door. You’re the last out aside from Jim, and you can hear him address his friend just as you step into the corridor. The last of the crew shuffle into the lift. “Are you coming?” one asks.

You fight with your good conscience before shaking your head, “no, you go.”

The doors of the lift ease shut, and you turn several times on the spot, asking yourself whether you’re a sneaky person before giving in and pressing yourself against the conference room’s door.

“Bones,” you hear Jim’s voice, “just listen to me.”

“I don’t really feel like listening to you right now, Jim,” the doctor bites back.

You frown and press your ear against the door.

“Please, let me explain.”

“Explain what exactly?” Bones asks, his tone harsh, “the part where you slept with girl I love, or the part where you lied to me so that I didn’t?”

You smack your hand over your mouth to keep from gasping… or screaming.

“I didn’t lie to you, Bones, I just-”

“You told me she was in love with some other guy, and that I couldn’t ask her out because it would only make things awkward.”

“I didn’t lie to you, I-I just didn’t know that-” Jim sighs loudly, “Bones, I am sorry, we were both drunk and it didn’t mean anything, it was just-”

“Just sex?” Bones snaps, “that’s all it ever is with you, Jim, you never think about anyone else.”

“I know, it was stupid, but I never lied to you,” Jim says, “she really was- is in love with someone, but she never told me who it was. I just- I assumed it was some guy back at the academy, and I should have realised-”

“Realised what, Jim?”

You can only imagine the two of them squaring up to each other, and you try desperately not to let the picture of an infuriated Leonard turn you on.

“The guy she was- is in love with, she never told me who it was, we just called him by some stupid nickname, she’s loved him for years, but I never-”

“Are you trying to torture me?” Bones interrupts again, “spit it out, damnit!”

“It’s you!” Jim exclaims.

Your heart lurches, threatening to break through your ribcage and burst right out of your chest.

“She’s in love with you, has been for years.”

The silence is heavy, and you have to hold your breath to stay quiet.

“What are you playing, Jim?”

“Nothing, I’m telling you the truth,” their voices are no longer raised, “and I am sorry, Bones. I shouldn’t have slept with her, drunk or not.”

Another beat of silence passes.

“I didn’t realise you were still in love with her,” the captain says quietly, and you have lean against the door before your knees give way.

Bones sighs, “course I am.”

“Then tell her.”

“Tell her?”

You startle at the sound of footsteps approaching, jumping back from the door when it slides open.

Jim smirks, “I didn’t take you for the spying type.”

You don’t have a chance to reply before he pulls you into the room and drags you toward the doctor. He smiles at both of you, pats Bones on the shoulder, and leaves.

“Hi,” you murmur.

“Hi.”

Staring up at him, you soften instantly under his hazel gaze. You can feel the warmth from his body, you’re standing so close, and you’re positive your cheeks are burning red.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “Jim’s just-”

You’re not sure if it’s the fact that you’re touch starved or just overwhelmed by what you’d just heard, but you surge up onto your toes and press your lips against his. He catches your waist and presses your body against his, tilting his head to allow your mouths better access to each other as his tongue slides past your lips. You can’t help the little whimper that travels up your throat, which only urges Leonard on. He turns your bodies and sits you on the table, knocking half of the equipment on it to the floor. Your legs part and he settles between them, pressing into you enough to make you shudder.

“I love you,” he says between open mouthed kisses, “by the way.”

You giggle against his lips, “I love you too.”

His hands stroke your jaw before travelling gently down your neck and chest and stopping to cup your breasts. He groans, and you sigh, before his hands continue down to your hips and he holds you in place to grind against you.

You gasp, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, “Len.”

Your hook the fingers of your right hand in the band of his pants while your left travels up under his shirt. His skin is so hot and so soft, you can feel the appreciation for him pooling in your panties.

“Oh, my God,” a voice exclaims, and you jump apart, “that was quick!”

Leonard looks over his shoulder but keeps his body facing you, concealing the bulge in his pants. “Damnit, Jim!”

The captain giggles, his grin so broad you’re worried he might get stuck like that, “this is a public space.”

At the same time, you and Leonard shout, “get out!”

He continues laughing as he leaves, and only then does Leonard disentangle himself from you and march toward the door to lock it. When he turns back, you can’t help but giggle at the delicious sight of him.

“Want some help with that?” you ask, nodding toward his crotch.

He’s back on you in less than a second, claiming your neck with a heavenly bite. “Thought you’d never ask,” he whispers against your skin.

END.

#leonard mccoy #bones #star trek #leonard mccoy x reader #bones x reader #imagine #oneshot #one shot #karl urban #chris pine #jim kirk #captain kirk #spock

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