#and kirk always replies 'yes dear that's very interesting. now can you get us out?'

[tprings-hair]

I find it so funny that every time they get taken captive kirk is rattling his chains screaming "LET ME OUT" and spock is examining the shackles like "hm. interesting. did you know these are made of a very rare, indestructible metal found underground?"

[gumnut-logic]

Gentle Rain (Part Four)

Title: Gentle Rain

Warm Rain Series

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Author: Gumnut

21-22 Jan 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes it is so gentle, you don’t realise it is happening.

Word count: 2852

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, OC, spoilers for Warm Rain up to this point in the timeline.

Timeline: Six months after ‘The Proposal’, almost a sequel.

Author’s note: For @scribbles97  This is a challenge to write. A little different from my norm and proving challenging. Thank you for all your wonderful comments regarding my first original character in this fandom. I hope she doesn’t disappoint. And thank you all for your wonderful support, I couldn’t do this without you.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Kayo stared at the ceiling. Virgil had long ago painted a beautiful pale abstract across the plain white plasterboard. Swirls of pastel swooped in lazy whorls like the surface of water at dawn, a calming pattern to trace with tired eyes and she was sure he used it in unconscious meditation to get to sleep some nights.

As usual she had awakened early, the light in the room disturbing her, but unlike most mornings she hadn’t climbed out of bed. Virgil was thankfully still asleep beside her, his soft snoring somewhat reassuring. His hair was mussed and his face mushed into his pillow as usual, but he was lying on his side facing her, rather than on his stomach and it occurred to her that she should have realised that she hadn’t seen him sleeping on his stomach since the accident. The stretch to get his arms under the pillow must be too much. How had she not noticed?

She reached over and touched his hair. She couldn’t help herself. But he stirred suddenly and she pulled her hand back. He needed his sleep.

Did men ever grow up? Did they need mothering all their lives? She sighed.

He was a challenge, but so worth it.

A hand reached out and sought hers. “Hey.” His voice was rough with sleep.

“Sorry, love, did I wake you?”

“No, no.” He yawned. “Dream.”

She frowned as he rolled onto his back stretching, and, yes, there was the flinch. Damnit, Virgil. She reached over and touched his bicep. “Come here, love.” She pulled gently and he rolled over.

Slipping her arm under his neck, she lay on her back, drawing his head to her chest and stroking his hair. He wrapped his arms around her and she was enveloped in him.

“Love you.” His voice was breathy against her breast.

“Love you, too.” Her voice equally soft.

They simply lay there for a while, not speaking, his breathing evening out as he drifted. She didn’t sleep, but let her thoughts wander, as she stroked his hair.

They had been lucky again. Oh, so, lucky. So close to losing Scott. Losing their big brother. Scott was an irreplaceable presence. They all were, but Scott was the Big Brother, the one they all looked to and followed. She had to admit that Virgil would likely be lost without his brother. In no way did she mean that as a negative, it was just simply how it worked. Virgil was strong, a powerhouse and she adored him, but he wasn’t a leader quite like Scott and he never wanted to be.

And for a long time Scott had been the centre of his world. That centre had shifted now to include her, but she would always stand alongside his eldest brother. The love was far from the same, but it was still love, and she could respect that.

Especially when she loved Scott too.

“You’re thinking too loud.” It was muffled and petulant.

She smiled, letting her fingers trace his ear and drift to his cheek. “I’m thinking about your brother.”

“Which one? And do I need to remove him from your attention?”

A grin. “Scott, and no, trust me, love, you have my full attention.”

He nestled in closer to her in response. “Good. Love you.” A moment later. “What about Scott?”

She rolled her eyes before sobering a little. “Just how lucky we were this time.”

He muttered an affirmative into her skin, his breath warm.

“Do you know what she did to save him?”

She felt his brow crinkle against her neck. “What?”

And she was back in the dark of that hole, Scott’s breathing harsh in the dim light.

“Kay?” And he was looking down at her. When did he move? “Are you all right?” There was concern in his brown eyes.

She blinked. “Fine.” But then she realised she wasn’t. She hadn’t witnessed what the doctor had done, but her imagination was quite capable of filling in the gaps. “She pulled herself from the rubble and dragged herself over to Scott to stop his bleeding.” When Virgil’s expression didn’t change, she pushed further. “She is a paraplegic, so she felt none of the damage that had been done to her legs and none she did by moving.” She swallowed. “Em Harris lost her legs, Virgil. The damage was that extensive.” Kay closed her eyes.

His voice was quiet. “How is she taking it?”

A sigh. “I don’t know. You saw her, she seems fine, but I don’t know how she can be. She has no family.” A pause. “She’s alone.” Perhaps that is what struck her and prompted her to visit the woman. Her background check had come up clean except for the incident that had led to her paraplegia and that was hardly her fault. She had a practice south of Perth and a steady client base in partnership with another doctor. She was managing.

But there was something...

His fingers touched her cheek, trailing down to her jawline. She turned and kissed their tips before leaning into his hand and closing her eyes. “She shouldn’t be alone.”

Leaning over, he kissed her forehead. “Then invite her over for Christmas.”

She stared at him. “Really?”

He stared back. “Why not? You’ve done the background check. If you’re concerned, ask Penny to double check for you.”

“She will need medical support.”

“Scott will be needing the same.” He brushed her hair away from her face. “We can ask Andre to bring his partner. He’ll jump at the chance.”

He was right. Andre would love to spend Christmas with the Tracys. Even better if he could bring Cecil with him. “You would risk Cecil and Gordon in the same mile radius for an extended period of time?”

“Gordon will behave. Penny will be here.”

“Point taken.” She bit her lip.

“C’mon, love, you can invite a friend over for Christmas. This isn’t Fort Knox.”

She stared up into his chocolate eyes. Concern sat under a slight frown. She reached up and drew him back down to her side, wrapping her arms around him, bringing his head back to rest on her chest again. “Love you.”

“That’s because I’m very lovable.” He smiled into her skin.

A gentle tap on the shoulder was enough to get her reply to that communicated.

His smile widened.  “Love you, too.”

Her thoughts turned back to Em sitting up in bed, verbally sparring with her brother.

Well, it would be interesting. Friend? She hardly knew the woman. But that could be changed. Something about Em Harris drew Kay towards her. She had saved her brother, but that wasn’t the only factor.

She stroked Virgil’s hair and let her thoughts take her.

-o-o-o-

“Oh, c’mon, you have got to be kidding me.”

Kay peered around the door of Em’s room. The woman was sitting up in bed glaring at her tablet.

“In no way is that a plausible argument, Scott Tracy. Not in a million years.”

She couldn’t quite hear her brother’s answer.

“Well, I prefer a little sense over a lot of fantasy.” More strong, but unintelligible words from the tablet. “Yeah, well, that’s a fool’s argument.”

Kayo blinked, suddenly glad she had left Virgil down at the cafe getting them coffee.

“Fine. Be that way.” Em caught sight of her. The frown turned immediately to a grin. “Hah! I have re-enforcements! Kayo, come and tell your doofus of a brother that ‘The Force’ is not the answer to everything.”

Another blink and a sigh of relief. “You’ll need to speak to John about ‘The Force’, though you may want to book yourself out for a day or two, he has a ten thousand word essay on it.” She waved a hand in the direction of the tablet. “The reason sits before you.”

Em snorted. “Yeah, well, this one can rave about Star Wars as much as he likes. Trek still trumps it.”

And yes, she had her arms crossed in front of her and the glare was back.

“You definitely need to speak to John. He’s been a Trekkie all his life.”

“Kayo, there is no way you are teaming those two up.” Scott’s voice was small coming from the tablet’s speakers, but his tone was still alarmed.

She stepped into the video pickup. “My dear brother, I will do what I need to do.”

He glared at her. “Han Solo could so kick Jim Kirk’s ass.”

A snort. “Don’t aim your arguments at me, Scott. Remember the Spock vs Chewbacca vs Virgil debate?”

He shut up, but Em straightened up next to her. “Oh, I’d like to hear this one.”

She grinned. “Again, you should speak to John and start with the Kirk vs Picard vs Scott discussion. It is the first in the series.” Her grin widened as Scott groaned.

“Okay, that’s it. I don’t need to listen to this. You ‘girls’ can go play now. I’m going to go and watch a real movie.”

To Kayo’s surprise, Em stuck her tongue out at her brother. “See you when boredom strikes.”

He grunted at her, but there was a glint of humour in his eyes and he smiled just before he cut the connection.

Kayo stared at the tablet a moment before turning her gaze to Em. “He been bothering you?”

The doctor grinned. “No, he is rather entertaining when he wants to be.”

A raised eyebrow. Oh, yes, the Scott Tracy charm was well at work. Kayo took a seat beside the bed. “And how are you, Em?”

The grin faltered, but stayed in place. “As best I can be. I can’t ask for more than that.” She straightened. “How is Virgil?”

Okay, so Virgil was going to be a deflection from her own issues. “You can ask him yourself.” And on cue, her fiancé knocked gently on the door, three coffees in a cup holder in one hand. “I bring sustenance of the gods.” He held up a large paper bag. “And muffins.”

“Yes, there are three members of our relationship. Myself, Virgil and coffee. Coffee gets him on early mornings with no competition.”

“Hey.”

She smirked. “Em, this is my fiancé, Virgil Tracy. Virgil, this is Em Harris.”

Virgil fumbled the muffins into Kayo’s lap as Em held out her hand. “Nice to finally meet you in person, Virgil.”

“Likewise. I hear you’ve been saving the hospital staff from the cranky Tracy.”

A smile. “He’s been entertaining.”

Virgil deposited the coffee tray on her bed table and handed one first to Em, then to Kay before taking the last one for himself and grabbing a chair. “That is not a word I have heard in relation to a convalescing Scott Tracy, ever.” A sip of his coffee, and, yes, there was that expression she only saw at one other time.

There was definitely a third member in their relationship.

Kayo placed the muffins on the table. “I hope you don’t mind us dropping in unannounced.”

“No, you are welcome. I’m happy to have the company.” She placed the coffee back on the table, untouched. “Actually, I was going to contact you.”

“Oh?”

Em turned to Virgil. “You were injured about six months ago?”

Virgil froze, suddenly wary.

Em held up her hand. “No, don’t worry, I haven’t been spying on you or anything. Scott gave me a little detail.”

“He did, did he?”

Uh oh. She reached out and placed a hand on Virgil’s knee. “He didn’t say much, love. Just that you were injured six months ago and your ribs were broken.” She looked back at the doctor, whose eyes had widened. “Em ascertained most of that herself anyway.”

Brown eyes hit pale blue. “How?”

“By watching you. It is subtle, but you are favouring your right side, even now.” Virgil self-consciously straightened and a faint wince flickered across his face. “And there you have it.”

-o-o-o-

She watched the man slump slightly in defeat. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be intrusive, but I want to help. I don’t know enough detail as yet, but I would like to assess you and see if something can be done.” She lowered her voice a little. “You shouldn’t have to be walking around in pain all the time.”

Her eyes darted between the couple. There was no way she was going to admit that she and Kayo had planned this. When Kayo had asked for specialist recommendations, Em had simply volunteered herself. Sure, she couldn’t practise from a hospital bed, but she wouldn’t be here for much longer and Virgil needed help.

It was the least she could do.

But Virgil was eyeing Kayo. “See a specialist in the morning, huh?”

Kayo didn’t flinch, her expression remained the same. “I didn’t lie.”

“I didn’t say you did.” He sighed. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”

“I will need your medical records at some point, but in the meantime, if you could give me some background, it would be a start.”

So, for the next fifteen minutes she learnt about how the two rescue operatives had fallen off a mountain and Virgil had gouged himself up his right side. With prompting from Kayo and with the room’s door secured, he unbuttoned his linen shirt and she got an eyeful of the massive scarring down his right side.

“My god, Virgil.” Okay, it wasn’t professional of her to say such a thing, but bloody hell. There were scars on top of scars. How much did this family have to pay to rescue all those people? She swallowed. He was staring down at her, an oddly hurt expression on his face. Shit, she should know better, sitting here with both her legs missing. Crap, damn...oh, hell. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” And suddenly there were tears on her face. Shit, not now!

“Em.” There were hands on her shoulders. “Take a deep breath.” And that same man, the man with all those scars, was looking at her with kind, calm eyes. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

No, she wasn’t okay. She was far from okay. Losing it in a simple consultation? It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen worse. Look at herself for example.

Was that sob one of self pity?

Screw it.

“I’m sorry.” She took that deep breath, another, and forced it out with a trembling sigh. “I’m okay.”

He was rubbing her shoulders gently. Kayo was pouring a cup of water.

Mortification set in. Oh, god.

Kayo handed her the drink and Virgil sat back giving her space. She took a long drink and hid behind the plastic cup.

She cleared her throat. “So, I guess I shouldn’t consult while in hospital.” A half-hearted smile.

“It is completely understandable.” His rich baritone spoke only to reassure. She could imagine him using the same tone while rescuing terrified people.

Was she terrified people?

Maybe she was.

“Though I have to say that isn’t the reaction I’m used to when I take off my shirt.” There was a lopsided smirk. “I guess my bikini days are over.”

It worked. She couldn’t help but smile just a little. If only it hadn’t been at his expense.

“I can help you.” She forced strength back into her voice. She was Em Bloody Harris the survivor. Get over it already. Another deep breath. “We can at least start some scar massage and I will look into exercises that might help. I presume you had some exercises prescribed?” He nodded. “If you could give me the detail, I’ll look into alternatives. I have no doubt you’ve kept up the routine?”

“When not interrupted by call outs, yes.”

“Well, they don’t appear to be working as well as they could. Give me details and I will adjust the prescription accordingly.” Another breath. “After I’m out of here.” A forced weak smile.

He reached out and touched her hand. He was a very tactile man “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

He frowned. “You don’t owe us anything, Em. You don’t have to do this.”

She looked up at him. “Kayo and Scott weren’t the only people you saved from that hole, Virgil. I have the right to thank you and I will do so in the best way I can.” She straightened her spine just a little. “Even if I have to conspire with your wife-to-be to do so.”

And that did it. A small smile spread slowly across his features. “I’m going to regret this aren’t I?”

He eyed Kayo and she smiled smartly back at him. “Possibly.”

Pushing back the chair, he stood up. “Okay, with that I’m making a strategic retreat.” He held up a hand as if to fend them off. “Thank you, Doctor Em. Your conspiracy worked, I will do your bidding. Kay? You and I will have words later.” The words were serious, but the tone was light. When Kayo’s grin widened into a laugh, Em found herself smiling.

“I will be with Scott, likely commiserating, if you need me.” And buttoning his shirt, he left.

-o-o-o-

End Part Four

Part Five

[janeykath318]

Christmases With Bones

This is my Star Trek Holiday Fic Exchange gift for @bubblegum-star-trek

Hope you enjoy!!  (Bones x Reader)  

Five Christmases with Bones 1. (first meeting) You were spending the winter break at the academy when you first met Dr. Leonard McCoy. It was your second year and you had no way or desire to go home for the holidays, so you worked extra shifts in the small campus cafe to pass the time. Most  of the human and about half of the alien student body had gone home and you were left with a fairly peaceful campus, though not really quiet due to the amount of winter holiday parties going on and overall relief of getting a break. You were working in the cafe late one evening, when a tired looking man came in. He was wearing medical scrubs and you judged he’d finished a shift at the hospital. He had scruffy brown hair and a face that was handsome, though lined with exhaustion. 

“Can I get a decaf coffee?” He asked. “Sure! Anything else?” You asked, as he slumped onto one of the stools. “Nope. Just need to wind down before I crash. It’s one of those days.” “Ah. You’d think there’d be less injuries with the holidays and less people around,” you commented, as you poured his cup, not envying the stressful hospital environment the man likely worked in. “Yeah, you’d think so, but unfortunately the holidays also bring out the idiots and over enthusiastic partiers,” he informed you. “Also a lot of Stress induced heart trouble from the craziness and drama that happens this time of year. Me, I’d rather work on the holidays. It’s all one big commercial racket, anyway.” He sounded rather bitter and you felt a pang of sympathy for him. You weren’t the only one not enjoying the season. “Here you go!” You said, handing him the steaming cup. “Hope it hits the spot.” He took a sip and a look of bliss smoothed out the stress lines on his forehead. “Yes, it does. Haven’t had a brew this good in weeks. They making you work over break?” “No, I’m avoiding family drama,” you replied, feeling safe talking to this guy. “I’m staying on campus and volunteering at a shelter Christmas Day. In the meantime, I’m working here. It’s kind of peaceful right now and I can actually unwind during the break from class.” “You sounds like a woman who uses her time well,” the man smiled, taking another gulp. “I try,” you said modestly. “You sound like a man who has a heart for fixing people.” “I try,” he echoed, with a half pained smile. “Some days are better, others, well....you just gotta survive.” “Hmm,” You hummed in agreement. “Well, it’s time for me to close things down here, much as I’ve enjoyed talking to you....” “Leonard McCoy,” he supplied, draining the rest of his coffee and tossing the cup in the trash. “And I’ve enjoyed chatting wit you too.....Y/N.” (He read your name off the tag on your navy blue uniform shirt.) You started wiping down counters and tables as he gathered his things to go. Pausing in the doorway, he stated, “I’ll definitely be back. Best coffee and service around.” You stared as his tall, broad shouldered form disappeared from sight, already anticipating the next encounter. 2.On a xeno archaeological dig. As fate would have it, you never really had time to really get to know Leonard McCoy well. He was usually in a tearing hurry when he came by the cafe and barely had time to grab his drink and pay before scurrying away. Evidently, that first night had been an anomaly. You didn’t end up seeing him again until after the Nero crisis and the World saving done by Jim Kirk and the Enterprise. His face was all over the news along with Jim’s and you were secretly very proud of having met him. The man had broken a load of rules to smuggle Kirk on board, which ended up saving the world, and performed an emergency surgery that saved Captain Pike’s life and and kept him from being permanently paralyzed. After graduation, which you thanked your Stars you’d loved to see, You shipped out to your first archeological assignment on The desert planet Thyra. Three months in, You were deep in the study of the ancient culture of Thyra and loving your work, when it was announced the USS Enterprise would be bringing more supplies and scientists within the week. A couple of them were good friends and you made plans to hang out together over the holidays. As you were hanging out in a popular club, talking about the dig, you saw a familiar face walk in beside the famous Captain James T. Kirk. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized Leonard McCoy, the coffee shop regular.   “It’s him!” You hissed to your friends. “Who?” “Leonard! The hunky Doctor I served at the Academy cafe!” Sadly, your friends were more interested in the smiling presence of James T. Kirk and abandoned you to flirt with him. Seizing the opportunity, You sauntered over to the Doctor, who was scowling at the loud throng and looking very out of place in the flashy club. “What’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?” You asked suavely. “My idiot best friend dragged me here—-wait, Y/N? Is that you?” His griping was interrupted by the shock and disbelief of recognizing you so far from earth. He hadn’t seen you since before Nero and had suspected you hadn’t survived. “Yes, it’s me,” You said cheerfully. “Long time no see, Leonard McCoy.” “You too. I’d thought you might have died in one of the ships that first responded to Nero,” he admitted, accepting your offered bear hug. “I was sick that day and got grounded,” you said, face growing sad at the awful memory of finding out so many of your classmates were dead along with billions Of Vulcans. “I still deal with feeling guilty about it sometimes.” “I know the feeling,” he replied sympathetically. “But I’m extremely grateful you’re still around. Speaking of which, what are you up to nowadays?” You happily explained the Xenoarchaeology dig and the ancient city you were currently studying. Unlike others, his eyes didn’t glaze over during your long winded explanation and he seemed genuinely interested. “That’s pretty interesting,” he said. “What do the locals think?” “They’re very invested,” You explained. “They want to learn more about their history, but just didn’t have the resources and enough trained scientists. Being in the Federation means they can get plenty of both. How are you finding space?” He shuddered visibly and did that cute scowl again. “As nasty, dangerous, and unpleasant as ever. Aliens keep trying to take over our minds, Jim keeps tryin’ to give me heart attacks and grey hairs at every opportunity and I’m always dealin’ with idiots trying to stick stuff where it was never, ever, EVER meant to go!” You covered your mouth to prevent the giggle from coming out. Starship crew did have a reputation for reckless experimentation at times and you’d heard your fair share of stories. “Oh, dear. Sounds like you deserve some nice quality shore leave, Doctor. I can show you some cozier spots if you want to escape from this madness.” The doctor glanced over at Captain Kirk, who was surrounded by giggling beings, including your friends. “Don’t think Jim’ll miss me much,” He said, turning back to you with a pleased grin. “Lead the way, darlin.’” You ended up spending Christmas Eve cozied up to Leonard in a cheery little pub, reminiscing about Christmas traditions, and bemoaning family angst. “My stepmom is a nightmare and she’s turned my dad against me,” you admitted. “I look for every reason to not go home for the holidays.” “Thus, the cafe job when I first met you?” “Yep,” you sighed. “And since then I’ve only spent one Christmas at home. I love how you happened to show up just as I was starting to get wistful.” “That’s me, Mr. Perfect Timing,” Leonard teased with a bow. “Thanks to you, I won’t be stuck being Jim’s wingman.” 3.Five Year mission It would be another three years before you saw Leonard in person again, though the two of you made efforts to keep up communication. The Enterprise was on a Deep Space Mission And you were busy traveling about going from dig to dig, so messages were unfortunately few and far between. You were staying on the Yorktown during the Krall crisis and were crushed at the news the Enterprise was lost. The thought of Leonard dying before you’d had a chance to have more than a long distance relationship was crushing. You couldn’t find any information for days and resigned yourself to the worst after the terrifying invasion that was finally thwarted by Captain Kirk. Then you were distracted by cleanup efforts until one day you heard a familiar voice arguing loudly with a calmer voice nearby. “I still say you shouldn’t be up yet, Spock! For Pete’s sake, man, you almost died!” “Your concern is noted, Doctor, but I assure you, I am adequately healed to allow light activity. The Yorktown physicians and Vulcan healer have assured me of that fact.” “Hmmph! I’m still not letting you out of my sight.” Whirling around, you couldn’t help yourself from yelling his name. “Leonard McCoy!” He started and looked around, eyes lighting up when he saw you coming toward him. He hugged you so tightly your feet left the ground and you clung to him almost in tears, gently scolding him for scaring you so much and the lack of communication. “I’m so sorry, darlin’” he apologized. “It’s been a crazy couple days with Spock’s injury and dealing with the aftermath and getting locked in long meetings with the Fleet. Let me make it up to you and I’ll tell you the whole story.” “If The Commander doesn’t mind me stealing you away,” you replied, looking at Spock. On the contrary, you thought he looked relieved. “I do not mind. I am quite capable of seeing myself around the starbase without Dr. McCoy’s presence.” Len rolled his eyes, but waved the Vulcan away and soon the two of you had found a cozy little cafe to do your catching up in.  And boy did you catch up. By the end of the day, you’d heard his whole story and were thanking your stars he’d survived. “And you managed to fly an alien ship, swoop in to save Jim and land it? What a hero.” He shuddered. “If you call a near crash landing, that is. Jim’s in the doghouse for the next twenty years for tricking me into flying that. I’m a Doctor, not a pilot.” “I’m thankful you’re still around,” you said quietly. “I was so terrified.” “Me too, darlin. When I heard they were aiming at destroying Yorktown, I just about had a heart attack. That was too close for comfort.” You and Len dated quite regularly during the time on the Yorktown and when the new Enterprise left on its maiden voyage, you were on board as a ship historian and cultural expert. There would still be digs when you got back, you reasoned. The long distance was just too much to deal with. That next Christmas, you and Leonard were enjoying a raucous party thrown by Jim and Scotty with food and booze and goofy games aplenty. Also: mistletoe, which you didn’t notice until you were standing directly under it and your sneaky boyfriend was pointing it out with a gleam in his eyes. “I do believe that’s mistletoe, darlin’. You know what that means right?” “It means you want a kiss, you scheming rascal,” you told him with a grin. “Got a problem with that?” He challenged, leaning closer to you. “None At all, babe,” you said with a pleased smirk. “Merry Christmas.” Seconds later, your lips met in the best kiss of your life. Leonard was a master and soon you’d completely melted against him. Holly, Jolly Christmas Indeed. 4.After the memorable way you and Leonard tended to spend holidays, it was only natural that you decided to have a Christmas wedding. Despite still being in space, the Enterprise A did not lack for suitable venues and enthusiastic friends who helped put the event together. Sulu supplies greenery and flowers and Carol and Christine added red and gold ribbons and drapery and arranged everything to make a breathtaking Christmastime backdrop for the ceremony. Jim was pleased to be able to perform the ceremony—Spock standing in as the groomsman. You’d heard plenty of Leonard bickering with the first officer in your time on the ship and thought it was hilarious how much they actually liked each other, despite both denying it vehemently. Thanks to the replicators, the quartermaster, and a genius friend who happened to be very gifted at sewing, you had a lovely dress to wear, rather than your dress uniform. There was a touch of red at the floor length hem to tie it in with the Christmas theme and you were stunned at how lovely it turned out in it’s simplicity. There wasn’t any train to deal with and you could happily dance the night away without getting tangled. Len seemed to appreciate it, judging by his face when you made your grand entrance and the many, many compliments he gave you during the course of the wedding festivities. The Captain, resplendent in his own dress uniform, couldn’t stop smiling the entire time he officiated the ceremony and he led the cheers when Len kissed you. “Best Christmas Ever!” You breathed, after he’d left you properly weak in the knees. “I can’t disagree with that statement, Mrs. McCoy,” he said low in your ear, causing you to giggle and go hot with delight at the term. You’d make sure he never griped about celebrating the holidays for the rest of his life. @outside-the-government

@yourtropegirl @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse

@medicatemedrmccoy

@southernbellestatues

[gallifreyanlibertea]

Coincidence

a/n: @inkwells-writing: My AP World History teacher was a loveable asshole and my AP Chemistry teacher was a dork so have this. I’m sorry this didn’t satisfy your toe kink... :( 

Arthur woke to the impending doom that was a stack of essays on his nightstand table. The throbbing pain in his temples told him that no, he had not fallen asleep grading them like a good teacher, but had instead obliged to the whims of his coworkers and tossed back a couple of drinks until he’d forgotten his last name. Kirk-something was it?

Arthur turned his gaze toward the conveniently formatted papers, in which, underneath the writer’s name was consistently printed a Mr. Arthur Kirkland.

Kirkland, yes, of course. He blinked his groggy eyes.

There was no harm in letting go once in awhile, yes? It wasn’t often that he’d let himself go to this extent, but it had happened and that was that. No need to go back and lament. Besides, another day behind on reading and he might get the raw satisfaction of making his students wait longer for their grade. Oh, he loved to feel evil, Arthur felt a smile tug on his lips despite the parched, dry state of his throat.

It was easy to blame teachers when grades came in late, Arthur even remembered cursing some of his own to hell and back, but oh boy. Being one was so much different. Torturing his students was as fun as his job got, and if it was another excuse to go out and party like he wouldn’t end up breaking a hip, he would take it.

All in good-natured fun, of course.

He sat up, rubbing at his eyes, blinking to find himself surprisingly unclothed.

It didn’t faze him. One would expect him to… empty the contents of his stomach after, maybe, the fourth drink, naturally. Even his piss-drunk-est self wouldn’t let him sleep in soiled clothes.

His vision blurred for a painful bit before he hissed aloud and held his head in his hands. “Damn.”

“I know a good family recipe for hangovers that I think would be of service to you!”

“I definitely need that service,” Arthur replied with a chuckle, letting himself be pulled into a warm, comforting embrace, fingers under his chin tilting his head up as lips peppered his forehead in kisses.

Oh, the way those arms wrapped around his bare waist, pulling him to a strong, sturdy chest, to hell with the hangover, with those essays. They could wait another few hours, it was hardly ever he got time for himself to enjoy, responsibility-free, stress-free-

Stress-free only to the extent of which those green eyes of his blinked open, wide as saucers, because he hadn't been in a relationship in what felt like forever.

So who was in his bed?

Arthur used every last bit of strength in his arms to push the man far away, holding the bedsheets to his chest like a vice, “Who the hell are you, mate?”

The look he got in response wasn't like something you would expect from a stranger in bed. The man tilted his head, confused. He shifted to prop an elbow up, chin resting in the palm of his hand. “Are you alright?”

Arthur held his breath. “Uh-”

The man turned to the nightstand, slipped a pair of glasses onto the bridge of his nose and Arthur felt every drop of energy drip out of his system. His sheets dropped back down to pool at his waist.

“Mr. Jones?”

“I think at this point, you can call me Alfred.” Mr. Jones said with a dreamy smile, propelling himself forward to no doubt plant another kiss wherever was closest on Arthur’s skin.

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

Arthur found himself jerking backward, “What- wh, why are you in my…”

“You don't remember?”

It was a silly question to ask. Taking into consideration of their lack of clothes, of the hangover wracking Arthur's skull, of the fact that they'd woken up in the same bed- Arthur was no Sherlock Holmes but he was pretty damn sure what had happened and he wished with every cell in his body that it hadn't.

Because this man taught the class directly across from him, and Mondays were already hell, but now, to walk into school and see a man he’d spent the night with, to see that face every single day?

Arthur crossed his arms. “Mr. Jones, you need to leave. Now.”

“I-” Mr. Jones sat up and those sheets fell away from his shoulders, making it extremely difficult for Arthur to be stern.

No matter how badly behaved his students were, Arthur could always relentlessly crack the whip. But they had never been naked in his bed, and they had never been built like a tank, with biceps, or triceps, or numerous other -ceps that seemed to come out of nowhere. Arthur had definitely never seen them behind those button-down shirts Mr. Jones would wear to work.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Mr. Jones-” A furrow of those brows framing those sad, sad blue eyes and Arthur cleared his throat, hand pressing reassuringly against a pectoral before him.

And for other reasons too, of course- “Alfred, I just-”

Oh, that face. The same expression that fell across those features when Alfred caught one of his students cheating on an exam- he was, by many and all definitions, a more empathetic teacher than Arthur could even try to be.

Arthur would watch him as he flitted around his class, blue eyes sparkling with wonder at the thought of being surrounded by atoms, that the whole world’s workings divided down into the subject he so lovingly taught.

“Chemistry!” He would say, loud enough to catch Arthur’s attention as he watched his class silently take a quiz. “You guys, chemistry is everything!”

And Arthur would grumble, resting his chin in his hands because history was quite literally everything as well, yet his students never got hyped up about hunter-gatherer societies undergoing the agricultural revolution.

What was Alfred’s secret? Arthur had always wanted to ask, hell, he vaguely remembered doing so last night- slurring over the rim of his umpteenth drink wondering aloud how anyone could make Coulomb’s Law as interesting as Alfred did. So interesting that Arthur himself would pause his teaching on many an occasion to listen in on Alfred’s lectures, after which he would shut the door and resume with a scowl.

Needless to say, Arthur didn’t remember Alfred’s answer.

“I have quite a few essays to grade that I would be better off doing in an empty house. To avoid distraction, that is.”

Alfred broke out into a grin, “I know you like to hold off grading those!”

Damn. What else had he told him last night?

“If I hold off any longer, I think I might warrant angry letters from parents,” Arthur said with a nervous chuckle, shifting to the far edge of the bed.

Alfred shifted with him and peeked over at the nightstand, crinkling his nose. “The dates on those look fairly recent.”

He then turned back to Arthur with a sunny smile. “Maybe you had them confused?”

“Yes, it’s possible I- oh.”

Alfred had climbed on him. Yes, literally, like a dog craving attention, he had hoisted himself quite literally to hover above Arthur, smirk pushing a dimple into his cheek. “So what say you about a round two?”

“I think I have another set of essays somewhere in the back to, um-”

“God, you make me so hot,” Lips were at Arthur’s ear and green eyes fluttered wide open. “Heh- I guess you could say, you’re quite the exothermic reaction.”

“My parents are coming over in half an hour!”

Alfred paused, expression mimicking the faux-panic on Arthur’s features. “What?”

“Yes, my parents, they-” Arthur sat up straight, hands coaxing Alfred’s warm body off of him- somewhere, anywhere, God, just somewhere that was not above him. “They want to see what I’ve done with the place.”

“You should’ve led with that.” Alfred said naively, blinking as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Gosh, I’d better leave then.”

“Yeah.” Arthur nodded, and damn he was either one good actor or Alfred was just one gullible man. Something told him it was the latter.

Alfred slipped out of bed to hunt for his clothes and Arthur fought the urge to look.

“Say, why don’t you put your number in my phone and I could call you sometime tomorrow?”

Arthur would not be doing that. “Er- yes, of course.”

A man like Alfred- if he were already this attached after one night, Arthur could just imagine how it would be after a date. To top it off, they were coworkers, it wasn’t ethical!

Besides, Alfred could do better than a shifty man like him whose nightmares were commitment itself.

“Phone’s next to your essays. The password is 1776.”

Arthur couldn’t help the smile working its way onto his face. How predictable... He then went back to frowning, feigning the action of plugging his number into Alfred’s phone.

It was for their own good! They weren’t compatible, it wouldn’t work, and this was the only way to ensure their careers would be unaffected by the disaster that would ensue when two very different types of people decided to date.

“I guess I’ll leave then.”

Alfred put on his clothes and Arthur remembered why he’d been so eager to bed him in the first place, drunk or not.

Mr. Jones was a stud.

“And I guess you’ll call me by tomorrow.” Arthur said with a laugh, burrowing under his sheets, “With the number I put in… on your phone.”

“That’s the plan,” Alfred said with a wink and he was gone. Out the front door, with a phone that didn’t have Arthur’s number on it, dropping a two-ton weight on Arthur’s chest as the door clicked shut.

He slipped on his underwear and a pair of reading glasses, deciding to grade an essay before freshening up. It was unfair, truly, to the student who wrote it because Arthur was not in a very forgiving mood.

Nor was he usually ever, but even more so today- Like he always tended to be after trying situations such as these, not that they were quite common either.

He tended to be quite different in class.

Arthur was a man of a gentleman demeanor. One that could lock up any feelings that conflicted with his normal behavior behind it, feelings such as those that would be brought about by a particularly annoying member in his class, or someone telling him they didn’t remember the homework assignment had ever been given.

In those cases, he would keep a straight face and deliver a proper punishment. Not one tinge of red in his cheeks, not one word that hadn’t already been rehearsed in his head minutes before the conversation.

And it had been that way until the fateful day Mr. Jones had begun to work in their school.

He brought with him leagues of distracted students. Girls who spent more time admiring him through the windows of Arthur’s class, taking discreet pictures as if Arthur wouldn’t catch them and force them to move seats far away from the window view.

He did.

It was all so confusing, how childish little teenagers would throw away perfectly good education, perfectly good opportunities to get A’s on every single exam he’d administer, just to gawk at a man who would never give them a second glance.

“Could I borrow a marker? Mine is dry.” Had been the first thing Alfred had said to him though, and forget everything Arthur had just said, because he was gawking. Stuttering for the first time.

“Um, I-” Exposed. Arthur had paused in his movements pacing back and forth the classroom, as he usually did when he lectured. His hands had fumbled on his desk, “What color?”

“Any color you can spare!” Mr. Jones had said with a dazzling smile and Arthur needed to sit.

“Is green alright?”

“Green!” Alfred had taken it from his hands, leaving Arthur nearly shuddering at the touch of those warm, rough fingertips. “Green is perfect! Beautiful.”

And Arthur knew Alfred couldn’t possibly be talking about Arthur’s eyes, or the sweater Arthur had been wearing that day, but it felt like it and Arthur had to sit right down, turning to scowl at his snickering students upon Alfred’s leave.

“I hope you find it funny when I give you a pop quiz right this instant!”

So of course when Francis, the French teacher down the hall, had asked him out for drinks, promising with twinkling eyes that Alfred would be there as well, Arthur had foolishly gone, pretending it was due to a stressful week. Pretending it was due to anything that wasn’t wanting to see Alfred outside of school.

Despite the fact that Alfred had proposed sharing a lunch break the day he returned the green marker, and despite the fact that Arthur rejected not only that offer, but many others that had manifested themselves, he simply had to go get those drinks. For some bloody reason, Arthur was drawn to him, yet at the same time repelling like the wrong end of the magnet nearing another.

He thought about it all weekend, leading to the moment he’d walked right back into school on Monday, a bit late, seeing as the first bell had already rung before he’d walked into class.

He set his bag down behind his desk. “You’ve got a pop quiz on chapter eleven. Prepare as much as you can before I can get out your graded essays.”

The chorus of groans only served to quirk the corner of his mouth up in a sly smile. “And it’s not curved.”

“Mr. Kirkland!”  

Arthur had taken a little longer than he would’ve to set the essays on his desk, but when he did, a timer was set and a relatively simple yet lengthy quiz was passed out, giving him a bit of time to leisurely grade the one or two essays left to grade.

He couldn’t fully focus the whole weekend. Not when small tidbits of Friday night came back to him every now and then, putting a nasty red on his cheeks, forcing him to take a break and… once in awhile, relieve the tension they brought him. He was only human!

Which is why he averted his eyes as he unwittingly caught the blue-eyed gaze of the teacher across the hallway, who’d stopped midway in his lesson to cast a rather sad look in Arthur’s direction.

Arthur chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Now if you guys will get to work on your labs, I’ll be right back!” He heard Alfred say and he practically buried himself in the essay in front of him, pretending to be occupied, nonchalant, indifferent, all at once, all to keep Alfred from walking to the threshold of Arthur’s classroom and knocking gently against the wooden door.

Which he did anyway.

“Hey, Mr. Kirkland, can I see you for a second? I’m having problems with my computer.”

“You should ask Mr. Honda in the math hall, he’s far better at technology than I am,” Arthur responded all too quickly, flipping to the next page in the essay and marking a word with a red pen. “Besides, my class is taking a quiz right now, I can’t leave them, sorry.”

Those blue eyes dimmed down even further and Arthur didn’t know Alfred could own an expression so distraught.

And it was all Arthur’s fault.

“Alright, thanks anyway.”

“Yeah, good luck with your computer, mate.”

Arthur was a horrible, horrible person.

He didn’t believe it when he gave out multiple choice quizzes where all the answers were B, he didn’t believe it when he took fifty points off an essay for botched formatting, yet with that look on Alfred’s face, Arthur was ready to have the insult tattooed on his forehead. He deserved it. He was a grade-A ass.

One that couldn’t bring himself to tell Alfred he wasn’t interested, even though he so clearly was. One that couldn’t bring himself to ask Alfred to leave him alone even though it was the last thing Arthur wanted.

Arthur was a mess and Alfred had caught himself in the crossfire.

The dismissal bell rang faster than Arthur would’ve liked, despite the school having a block schedule, and he watched as his students left the room, leaving quizzes at his desk and picking up unsatisfactory essay grades on their way out.

“You know, Arthur-”

A startled jump and Arthur bit his lip, eyeing the surface of his desk as his fingers fumbled with the fabric of his sweater.

Alfred had walked in during Arthur’s free period and there was no excuse coming to Arthur’s mind, not one that would save him from this, frankly inevitable, confrontation.

“The oxygen in the water molecule has two lone pairs of electrons, and electrons always repel each other.”

Arthur pretended he knew that information.

“They push the hydrogen molecules toward each other, and despite one hydrogen desperately wanting to get as far away as possible from the other one, they’re forced together by the lone pairs pushing them down.”

Alfred touched Arthur’s shoulder and Arthur recoiled, just slightly.

“There doesn’t have to be those two lone pairs for us.”

Despite the unnecessary chemistry analogy, Arthur got it. There was no need to be pushed together if Arthur wanted to get as far away as possible. A far-fetched comparison, but he got it.

“Well, I mean, if there weren’t two lone pairs on the oxygen we’d all be nonexistent.”

Arthur glanced up to find Alfred rather flustered. “Not! Not that I’m saying we have to be together for the sake of the human race or anything, er- it was a bad analogy, but if you don’t want me to bug you just let me know.”

A man of admirable quality. Arthur cleared his throat. “Friday night was a mistake I’d never intended to make- I hadn’t been fully conscious.”

“Me neither!” Alfred blurted, “Or else I wouldn’t have let it happen, I mean, because you couldn’t consent. Not that I... didn’t want it to happen.”

“I don’t think it, um, we should be more than that. A mistake.”

“Okay.” Was Alfred’s response, punctuated with a light smile. It was enough closure for Arthur to have gotten back to his work and for Alfred to have gotten back to his, yet for some odd reason, Arthur couldn’t stop.

It was as if he was convincing himself. “I mean, we’re co-workers, what if something went wrong and we brought our feelings into the workplace?”

“Well, if we fought, I think you’d be able to handle it pretty fine, you never seem to lose your cool.” Alfred remarked, “And me? You never gave me your number and despite that, I think I handled my class today just fine.”

Arthur swallowed around the lump in his throat. “There would be rumors.”

“The rumors would be true.” Alfred said with a shrug, “Besides, it’s not like we’d parade it around school. If they ask, we don’t have to tell.”

“We can’t date, though,” Arthur muttered, fists clenched atop the surface of his desk. “We just can’t, I’m sorry.”

“And that’s okay, it’s what I came here to say, don’t feel pressured to comply with what I want,” Alfred said with a grin, and Arthur really could’ve left it at that. Alfred seemed to carry himself well, he would be fine, and everything would be back to normal, but he just… couldn’t.

“Although, I find myself craving a sandwich from that coffee house near the supermarket. It really is quite good.”

“I’ll have to try it out,” Alfred said, and Arthur glanced up to find him plucking a pen from his pocket, scribbling a note onto his wrist to which Arthur had to force himself not to chide him for the habit.

One couldn’t reveal their true colors so quickly.

“I think I’ll be there, what, this evening? Around seven?”

Alfred stilled his motion, clicking his pen so that the point receded back into its shell.

“If you happen to be there around the same time, I can’t do anything about it.”

“Nothing more than a coincidence,” Alfred said with a smile, and Arthur dared not smile back, lest a student saw and discovered that he was not just a shell of a human with not a single emotion inside, as he tended to quite frequently appear.

After all, there would be plenty of smiling in the numerous other coincidences to come.