#everyone else in the room just Watching as kirk pressed himself up against the glass to say goodbye to spock.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

i never stop thinking about the scene in the Wrath of Khan where Spock was in the warp core, and Bones and Scotty had to physically hold Kirk back because they knew that if they let him go, he'd open the door and flood the whole ship with radiation just to get to Spock. just to be able to hold him while he died.

[joaquinwhorres]

Treacherous Waters (Leonard McCoy x Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› After finals at Starfleet Academy all of the cadets flock to local bars in search of a good time. Which is exactly where you meet Leonard McCoy. And you are more than willing to show him a good time with the understanding that come Saturday morning he'll be gone, and you'll never see him again. Which is exactly what happens...until five years later your starship has a massive failure and the only ship around to save you is the Enterprise.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,072

WARNINGS ››››› Drinking and mentions of sexy times. 

A/N ››››› Sooooo originally this was just supposed to be a “dancing in a bar with Leonard McCoy” fic but then I got an idea and well, it’s this. 

Prefer OC’s? Read it on AO3.

Finals Week at Starfleet Academy was a glorious occasion.

Or perhaps, more accurately, the Friday evening after Finals Week at Starfleet Academy was a glorious occasion. Because the Friday night of Finals Week was when the beautiful, young, pent up cadets flooded the local bars in desperate search for some unbridled fun.

Which Y/N was more than happy to provide

"Kirk's here," Kiesh hissed, her fingers digging into Y/N's arm in her excitement. Y/N flinched, and Kiesh released her quickly, but was too distracted to mutter an apology, her gaze fixated on the near mythical figure of San Francisco nightlife.

The tales that followed Jim Kirk were outlandish and obscene and wholly captivating.

There was the story of his birth aboard the USS Kelvin minutes before his father saved the lives of everyone who'd been aboard the ship.

There was the story of how he'd earned his spot in the Academy by taking on three security Lieutenants in a fist fight and walking away with no more than a bloody nose.

And of course there were the stories of his romantic conquests. Although romantic was probably not the right word for it. Carnal, sensual, lustful, and erotic all seemed a bit more descriptive of what transpired between Jim Kirk and the girls of San Francisco.

And like any mythical figure, these tales were enough to warn off a good number of girls from falling into his sheets...while prompting others to search for him to either worship or conquer themselves.

Kiesh fell firmly in the later category. She was no Kirk acolyte, but he had become a point of fixation for her because he was what no other man had been to her--unattainable.

Y/N scanned the crowd for the golden haired casanova, but the bar was too packed. It was an ocean of voices and species and color, all flowing to the electric undercurrent that ran throughout the bar. Y/N's eyes caught on the blood red uniforms of cadets too eager to indulge their youth to waste any time by going home and changing clothes.

Two palms pressed into either side of Y/N's face as her roommate turned her attention away from the cadets, past groups of people wearing the colorful and patterned designs native to their home planet, and to the end of the neon purple bar. There, just visible between the bodies of two friends having a chugging contest, was Jim Kirk with his head thrown back laughing.

"He's gorgeous," Y/N murmured. She'd figured he had to be, but it was one thing to hear about Adonis and another thing completely to see him in person. Kiesh's hands fell from Y/N's head, allowing the other girl to turn back to her. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"I might not make it to breakfast." A coy smile curled Kiesh's lips up as she started off through the crowd, disappearing amongst the crowd.

Y/N followed her progress, watching the other girl choose a space at the bar directly in Kirk's line of sight, sliding into the chair and tossing her long purple hair over one shoulder to reveal the expanse of skin from her neck to her chest, and then below the crop top.

And then she waited.

Watching Kiesh work was a sight to behold. Each trap was delicately set, carefully tailored to the man she'd picked on that given night. She planned each movement--the way she walked, the angle of her body against the bar, the look she painted on her face--to snag men like a siren, luring them into her dangerous waters.

As much as she wanted to see this play out, Y/N had other more important things to accomplish.  Like finding her own catch for the night. And she wasn't going to do that by standing in one spot all night.

If Kiesh was a siren, then Y/N was a shark, moving constantly throughout the room in search of the perfect prey. She weaved in and out of small groups, eyes scanning the members therein. There were groups of friends laughing together, cadets challenging each other to drinking games, girls who like her and Kiesh came with one purpose in mind, and others who came to have a good time by themselves, cadets be damned.

But it wasn't until her fourth slow, methodical lap that she saw him. Or rather, she saw Kirk slap him on the back with a large grin before making his way over to where Kiesh leaned on her elbows. More than the broadness of his shoulders, the tussle of dark hair, and the deep red color of his uniform, it was the scowl he was shooting at Kirk's back that caught her attention and drew her across the bar to him as if smelling blood in the water.

"You look like a man who doesn't dance," Y/N said, folding her arms on the back of what was once Kirk's chair. It took him almost three seconds to realize that she was talking to him, and when he did, he lifted his eyebrows--the look an interesting combination of amusement and apprehension.

"Well, that's a first," he remarked. There was just a trace of an accent under his words that Y/N couldn't quite place.

"I highly doubt I'm the first person to notice," Y/N said, rocking on the balls of her feet. "Unless of course I'm wrong, and you're constantly barraged with requests to hit the dance floor."

He exhaled a laugh, the sound sailing past his lips, and into the glass he lifted up to his mouth. "You're not wrong," he said, taking a sip of his liquor and then placing it back down on the bar in front of him.

"Didn't think so. I rarely am."

He gave her a cautious look out of the corner of his eye as if still unsure where this conversation was going and why she was talking to him. As if people chatted up strangers in bars just to pass the time.

"So, since you don't dance, that begs the obvious question…what's a man like you doing in a place like this?"

He cracked a smile then, slowly tilting his head to look at her, really look at her, for the first time. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

"Only if you subscribe to archaic 20th century gender norms," Y/N shrugged, smiling back at him. "Besides," she leaned closer, tipping her head towards his conspiratorially, and he shifted closer as well. "I don't think it's much of a mystery for me. I mean, look at our clothes."

His eyes wandered down to her deep V halter before seeming to realize he was still in his reds. "Fair point," he conceded, pulling back a little to take another sip of his drink.

"So?"

"A friend dragged me out," he admitted, eyes sliding back over to her. She raised both of her eyebrows as if she was surprised and didn't see Kirk abandoning him just five minutes ago.

"And left you to fend for yourself in a dive like this?" She shook her head as if scandalized by the idea. "You need better friends."

The cadet snorted and nodded his head. "You've got that right."

"Well, you're very lucky I found you before another girl did," Y/N said, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"That so?"

She nodded. "They may try to take advantage of you in such a defenseless state. All alone by the bar nursing a...what is that, whiskey?"

"Bourbon, actually." His eyes sparkled with an intoxicating warmth similar to the liquor he was drinking.

Y/N rolled her eyes lightly. "Same thing."

"Only technically."

"Technicalities are everything," she grinned. "Anyway, I'm willing to offer my protective services as a long time San Francisco resident to navigate these treacherous waters."

"You're from here?" he asked, genuine curiosity overtaking his features for the first time in their conversation. Y/N's smile turned a bit strained, but she nodded.

"Not quite. But I've been here for fifteen years. Just haven't figured out how to drop the accent," she shrugged.

"So are you from England then?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Next round's on me if you can guess where."

"Lon…" he started, and a grin grew across Y/N's face before he switched course. "Birmingham?"

She shook her head. "London."

"You tricked me," he accused lightly, his brow furrowing slightly but into more of mock offense and surprise at her cunning than anything else.

"You're highly suggestible," she shook her head, fighting to keep a smile down. "Which brings me back to the fact that you absolutely cannot remain alone in this bar tonight. It's far too dangerous for you."

"Guess I'll have to take you up on that offer then, darlin'." His smile was more subtle--apparently the fight to keep it off his face was going better for him.

"Y/N," she corrected, lifting her hand to offer it to him.

The man took it, his fingers surprisingly soft for a cadet. "Leonard," he answered.

Y/N let her hand linger in his, not pulling back until his grip loosened and his fingers trailed against hers to go back around his glass. She leaned her elbow on the back of the chair, placing her chin on top of her hand. "So Leonard," she asked. "Are you going to buy me a drink or am I working for free?"

He smirked, lifting a hand to call the bartender over as Y/N slid into the seat next to him, leaning her arms against the smooth chrome bar. The Tellarite bartender made his way over, and Leonard looked at Y/N.

"Well are you going to order or sit there staring at each other?" the bartender snapped. Leonard shot him a dirty look, and Y/N snorted.

"I'll have a Samarian Sunset on his tab," she ordered, pointing a finger at Leonard, and the man grunted. Leonard still looked rather displeased with the exchange but ordered himself another bourbon. The bartender walked away grumbling, and even Leonard looked rather grumpy.

"You know that's just his way of greeting right?" Y/N asked, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Tellarites consider it polite to attempt to start an argument when meeting someone. If he wasn't mildly insulting I would have been majorly insulted."

"And I thought you were kidding about being a guide."

"I would never," Y/N said with mock indignation, placing a hand over her heart. "Leonard, I take my promise to you very seriously. I will be at your side all night."

"All night?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

"All night," Y/N repeated with a nod, keeping her eyes locked on Leonard. He met her gaze with an intensity that made her stomach twist with delight.  And of course it was right then that bartender reappeared.

He placed a martini glass full of clear liquid in front of Y/N, and a rocks glass with amber liquor in front of Leonard before making a derisive noise in his throat and walking away. Leonard didn't seem to mind as much this time.

"Cheers," Y/N said, reaching forward with her glass, and Leonard clinked his against hers, lifting it to his lips. She watched intently as she swirled her own drink so that a luminescent gold wisp spiraled out, turning the clear liquor the color of a burning sun. He pulled the glass from his lips, and she returned her attention to her own drink, taking a slow sip before placing it back down on the bar.

"So, Leonard," Y/N let the name roll off her tongue teasingly. "Tell me about yourself. Where are you from? What are you studying?"

"I'm a medical student," he said, setting his own glass down. "And I'm from Georgia."

"Ooh, a doctor and a southern gentleman," Y/N teased, shimmying her shoulders. "My mother would be so proud of me."

"Who said I'm a gentleman?" he asked with raised eyebrows, leaning closer to her. Y/N's mouth fell open slightly before she caught herself, stopping her body from melting completely right there in the seat.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Leonard," she quipped, taking a sip of her drink.

"If you didn't want a good time then why did you come over here?" he asked, and Y/N grinned at him.

"Because you look like a man who doesn't dance."

"Well darlin," Leonard started, his eyes sparkling with the slightest bit of mischief and a look on his face that was enough to make something delicious twist in the pit of Y/N's stomach. "The night's still young."

The night grew in both the amount of time passed and the amount of drinks finished. It was hard to state exactly how much of either had slipped away from the two of them as their glasses had been cleared a few times, but the world was just a bit lighter and hazier at the edges than was usual and the crowd slightly thinner than it had been when Y/N entered.

"Well, darlin'," Leonard's accent had grown heavier with the liquor, words dripping like molasses from his lips. "I should be gettin' back before curfew."

Y/N exhaled, the sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "Leonard," she said slowly, dragging out the word. Her own accent adding a richness to her words that had been precise and sharp earlier in the evening. "I thought I made it quite clear that I wasn't leaving your side all night, so you can't go running off to the dorms on me now."

"Need me to walk you home?" he asked, pausing from putting on his coat to settle the tab.

"Such a southern gentleman," the words rolled like waves from her, her voice rising and falling as he lifted an eyebrow at the screen he was signing. "Yes, I require an accompaniment home," she mocked. "And then I need you to pick a side you want me on for the next part of our night: top or bottom."

Leonard's eyes darkened, pupils blown wide before grabbing her hand and leaving the bar behind.

The cab ride to her apartment was...restrained. The two of them sat shoulder to shoulder in the backseat, eyes focused ahead through the windshield. Even as Y/N's hand drifted from her own lap into his, venturing up his thigh, both of them remained focused on the passing San Francisco streets. Leonard's hand came on top of her own. "Just wait, darlin'," he said, his words dripping with the richness of molasses as he folded his hand around hers.

"It's not polite to make a lady wait," Y/N quipped, shooting him a look out of the corner of her eye.

He snorted but made no attempt at a retort, instead patiently holding her hand until the cab stopped. Y/N opened her door, dragging Leonard by the hand and towards her apartment building.

The ride on the elevator was just as restrained as the cab drive, only instead of the beautiful lights of downtown, the pair stared at their distorted reflection in the sleek chrome doors.

There was a hum in the elevator though. Inaudible, but she could feel it singing across her skin, radiating from each part of her body that touched Leonard's. She bit her lip, and could feel Leonard look down at her. She allowed her gaze to slide over to him, drifting up to his face, meeting his eyes, already dark and boring into hers.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the doors slid open, pulling their attention away from each other and out of the elevator.

The pair walked down the hallway, stopping outside of her door so she could punch in the code. It took two tries for her to get it before the door clicked and she pushed it open, revealing her dark apartment. Y/N ventured in first, turning to invite Leonard in, but she'd barely opened her mouth before her face was in his hands, and he was walking her back into the wall.

The light switch jammed into her shoulder blade, and she felt a bit off balance, but his lips moved over hers with such a ferocity, it pushed everything else from her mind. Instead, all she could focus on was the feeling of his lips against hers, the taste of the sharp tang of alcohol he'd been drinking all evening. He invaded her senses, making it impossible to think of anything other than pulling him closer to her.

Y/N wound her fingers into his hair, urging him nearer to her, which he did, stepping forward, and moving a hand from her face to her waist, pulling her flush against him. His other hand wandered down to her chest as his lips began a journey down the curve of her neck. "I don't usually do this type of thing," he murmured against her skin.

"Go home with--ah--a strange woman from the--fu--the bar?" Y/N panted, pushing her hips into his for a taste of the friction she needed.

He pulled himself away from her collarbone to look up at her with hooded eyes. "Exactly."

"You're missing out," Y/N grinned, chest heaving. "Now take off your clothes so I can prove it to you."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of bare skin and desperate sounds and more pleasure than Y/N had gotten out of a night out in a while.

It almost made her sad to see him go in the morning. Almost.

But him leaving was always a part of her plan for Saturday morning. Whether it was before or after breakfast, he would walk out of her apartment, never to be seen again. Instead, he'd fade into a memory of lips trailing against skin, fingers tangling in hair, bed frame rattling into the wall.

At least that's what was supposed to happen.

She wasn't supposed to see him again.

And she especially wasn't supposed to see him in a starship's transporter room, rushing towards her as she pressed her hand into Kiesh's side, desperate to keep the blood inside of her friend's body and not spilling out onto the transporter pad. He wasn't supposed to be there. And neither was she.

[hesgunnalovethis]

Greenhouse Planet

Prompt : ( ty @write-it-motherfuckers ) 

“How the hell are you still alive?”

“Honestly, I’m just as confused as you are”

Leonard x Reader

 Word count: 2755

 TW: OC death, blood mention, medbay

 A/N: you ever make up your own planet and species? me too apparently.

  Greenhouse Planet:

“Jim stand still will you.” You watched as Leonard McCoy struggled through the small gathering in the transporter room completing his pre-mission checks. Usually he liked to be more prepared but with Jim Kirk - the worst patient in the fleet - leading the Enterprise, he had to make exceptions. 

 “Bones, please, I had a check-up last month.” Kirk said punching co-ordinates into the control desk, much to Scotty’s dismay.

 “You had 6 broken bones that month, Jim.”  

 “Yeh and I’m sure they’ve healed.” 

You watched Lee’s face curl looking at the results of the little readings he’d gathered from Jim before admitting defeat and sliding his tricorder back into his pocket. 

You followed the others onto the transporter platform ready to face whatever was waiting planetside when you felt familiar hands wrap round your waist. Instinctively, you let yourself relax into the curves of your partner. Every inch of you belonged together, bodies fitting seamlessly.

“You don’t have to come, Y/N” Leonard rumbled softly into your ear, sending a shiver down your back. 

 You wrapped your hand around his, turning to look into his incomparable blue eyes and throwing a playful look over his lips “Good to know you still worry about me even after all these years.”

 “Worry? Me? Never.” Leonard scoffed, “It’s just, part of me just thinks you’re too pretty to be doing this kind of dirty work” 

 “Maybe you can make it up to me later?” You said running your hand up his arm to rest on his bicep. An intimate moment positively overlooked by the rush of the room. 

 “You know I hate talking about ‘later’ before this kind of thing.” Leonard sighed more to himself than to you. 

 You had often spoken about the increasing dangers on recent fieldwork. 

 “Ah, my Southern pessimist.” You said giving Leonard’s arm a comforting tap. 

 “One of these days I’m going to be right.” The infamous grumpy doctor persona had returned. 

 “You’ll never be right, Leonard. Not while I’m around.” You smirked and joined the others settling on the transporter platform. 

 Leonard followed. You could feel his eyes burning into you while Jim finished conferring with Scotty at the panel. His gaze didn’t budge. 

 “Okay, Scotty” Jim said taking his place at the front of the crew “Standby.” 

 ***

 Once your body had reconfigured itself you were in a jungle like landscape. Surrounded by tall plants you watched as your crewmates looked around equally confused, some picking unidentified green out of their hair and clothes. 

 Jim addressed the group. “This planet belongs to Bokencams. Bokencams are known for their botany but also for their lack of humanity. That means stay on task, stay out of sight. Starfleet had cultivated a healing plant which was promptly stolen. It’s our job to get it back. I’ll go in to reason with them while Andrews, Clarke and Y/L/N look for a point of entry. These creatures aren’t known for their intellect which means the plant should be easy to locate once inside. Got it?”

 Mumbles of assurance rippled through the group. 

 “Doctor McCoy and Lieutenant Uhura you’ll be here listening in for language and translation. The rest of you cover ground and cover each other. Eyes everywhere and comm anything unusual in.” 

 Everyone began to prepare for their own tasks: Jim shirt off and wiring himself, the red shirts activating phasers and Bones looking high strung. He pulled Jim aside, “Don’t you think I should be closer in on this action, Jim? I don’t recall anyone else having years of medical training to hand?” 

 “I need your brains here, Bones.” Jim said clapping his back pointing Leonard towards his portable control panel. 

 “Come on you three” Jim said pulling his top back over his head, “The sooner we get out of here the better. I hate greens.” 

 You, Jim and the 2 others began towards the seemingly empty green dome which sat perfectly isolated amongst the greenhouse planet. Getting closer Jim signalled for you all to split off, Clarke taking east, you taking west, Andrews taking south and Jim taking north towards the front door. 

 The tall plants made it easy to slip into your assigned station unseen and to your surprise the entire building seemed unguarded.

 You could see Jim beginning his strut towards the front door of the dome with no attempt to conceal himself. He wanted the attention on him. That was how his plans often went. Very Aries of him. 

 After all three of you had confirmed your position Jim stepped into the building without any trouble.

 The comms were silent.

 Getting to work you ran your eyes over the immense building. It stretched for miles each way. You began looking for any entrance. The distinct lack of windows was the first thing to jump out at you. The second was the space between the dome and the moss covered ground giving the building the appearance it was floating.

 You waited what seemed like hours with the anticipation but was likely a plethora of minutes before emerging from your cover bolting towards the underneath of the dome. 

 Drowned in darkness on your hands and knees you dragged your hands across the underneath of the building. The material was nothing like you had felt before. Somewhere between glass and beads. 

 You crawled through the damp ground for miles every inch of the underneath feeling eerily the same. You were beginning to lose hope when you felt a crack. You froze and ran your hand back over the beaded glass. Definitely a space. You crawled again searching for the same space parallel which could suggest a door.

 “Y/L/N come in.” rang from your comm. You ignored it. “McCoy to Y/L/N come in.”

 Your hand ran over another definite space. Rolling into the centre of the somewhat door you lifted your feet and hands to the beaded glass and began to push. With very little effort the hatch lifted enough for you to climb inside.

 You appeared to be in a lab. Green seemed to cover the entirety of the inside as well. You grabbed your comm, and rang to all ground comms “Y/L/N, stationed West, inside dome. Repeat. This is Y/L/N, stationed West, inside dome. Over.” Leonard’s voice came immediately “I love you. Be careful.” You switched off your comm.

 ***

 Bones knew you’d be the first in. You were good at your job. He just didn’t let himself admit it until he heard the message through the comm. Uhura reached out to squeeze his hand but Leonard pulled away. He would detach and get on with the job. Or try. They listened into Jim’s meeting with the Bokencams,

 “You have nothing to collect. It’s property of this planet. Here it can be stored at its optimum.”

 “And how have you been storing it exactly?” 

 Jim was stalling. Giving as much time as possible to those working around the dome. And it could’ve worked. 

 ***

 The dome was silent. You couldn’t tell if it was empty or sound proof. You weaved in and out of the green rows scrutinising every plant. One seemed to have stories written on the stems, another with the softest looking leaves you had ever seen. You ran your hand over the soft looking plant which sent a searing cut over your palm. ‘Should’ve seen that one coming’ you thought. 

 Behind the soft plant was a small glass cube. Inside was the purest green your eyes had ever met. The edges of the leaves appeared whitened as if touched by a December morning. That had to be what you were here for. 

 You slid the top off of the cube and carefully removed a cultivation of the plant. Unsure how else to test your theory you picked off a leaf and placed it on your tongue. Instantly you gashed hand sealed without a scar. You pressed the plant into your pocket and headed back for the hatch when you saw a green creature sliding through the space you had made. His eyes fixated on you before you had a chance to move. His thick fingers reached towards your arm extending way past where they should’ve. He bound your arms with a vine and marched you out of the lab door. 

 You couldn’t be sure where he was taking you but you knew it couldn’t be good. The creature had moved you round enough corners to be totally disoriented. Every green wall looked the same and there was no way to retrace your steps back to the hatch.

 From the corner of your eye you saw a familiar looking red through a window amongst the green. Your head shot backwards making eye contact with Clarke. So you were east. Good to know. 

 “Y/N?!” Clarke mouthed through the window.

 A segment of wall opened. A disguised door. And Clarke stood phaser pointed, face stern. All around him identical green creatures materialised from walls and ceilings crowding him. The Bokencam guarding you extended his arm into the crowd and released a phaser shot. Several of the green creatures fell backwards. Dead. He shot again and Clarke’s body thudded to the ground. 

 Your chest tightened enough to double you over. You felt winded. You tried to call his name but nothing came out. Your feet could barely support your weight never mind fight against the direction you were pushed. The creature holding you continued to march not batting an eyelid. He had killed tens of his own for one of you. The lack of humanity brief truly was not a warning. You kept your eyes on Clarke willing the blood to spill back into his body until he was completely out of sight. 

 *** 

 Bones was barely listening to the conversation anymore. His thoughts were consumed by you. His mind immediately considering the worst possible outcome. Assuring himself he was overthinking he tuned back into the conversation. 

 “Guess I’ll pack it up then. Thank you for your time.” Jim began to close out the meeting. 

 “Now that you have wasted our time I think you should be offering some sort of penance. Would you not agree, Captain?” The green creature in front of him snarled back. 

 “I don’t think that’s necessary at all. I would actually argue that we’re now even.” 

 “Maybe we could change your mind.” 

 Bones sat up bracing himself for whatever mess Jim had talked himself into. 

 “No,” Jim said with no attempt to hide his own panic, “Y/N?” 

 Bones’ body went stiff. 

 “Y/N?!” Uhura asked, “Did he just say Y/N?” 

 Bones picked up his phaser and started towards to dome. 

 *** 

 “Y/N are you alright?” Jim asked as tears began to fall from your eyes, Clarke’s body falling to the ground replaying over and over in your mind. “Y/N what happened.” Jim took a few steps towards you as all of the creatures raised their phasers.

 “DON’T” you yelled to Jim, “They killed Clarke. They killed him right in front of me. They killed their own to do it.” 

 You watched as man who didn’t believe in no win scenarios calculated this in his head. 

 “So here’s what’s gonna happen.” Jim said to the creatures, a clear switch in his persona. “You’re going to hand over Lieutenant Y/L/N to me, right now. We’re going to walk out of that door and return to where our crew is stationed. We’re going to pack up and we’re going to leave.” 

 “No Captain I think that’s what you want to happen. But let me tell you how it goes here. First-“ The creature was cut off by the sound of doors clambering. 

 You looked up to see Leonard McCoy - hater of fieldwork - standing in the doorway accompanied by a plethora of red shirts, phasers charged. 

 “Hand her over. Now.” Bones said stalking towards you. 

 “Is this all about her?” The creature who had led you through the green corridors said kicking your back, sending your body forward and the leaf which had been resting on your tongue down your throat. Leonard’s face stiffened. “It is isn’t it?” The creature laughed “Well then let me make this very easy for you.” 

 The world went in slow motion.

 Your eyes focussed on Leonard, managing the weakest of smiles as the phaser behind you released and shattered into your side. 

 The rush of familiar coloured shirts flooded the room you were in. Phasers shot in all directions and your body seized. 

 You found yourself laying across Leonard’s lap, as if it had always been there. Together you lay as one. Fitting seamlessly.

 Leonard fussed over your side speaking words you couldn’t fully understand. You grabbed his working hands in yours. 

 “Hey,” he said brushing stray hair out of your face “You’re doing really well stay with me. Tell me something. Anything.” 

 “Maybe you were right.” you whispered looking up at him. 

 “I’ll never be right, Y/N, not while you’re around.” He placed a bloody hand behind your neck, thumb stroking your jawline. 

 “Bones!” Jim shouted through the fighting, “Help them!”

 But you could see on Leonard’s face, there was nothing he could do. 

 Leonard pulled you close releasing a gentle sob by your ear. 

 “I love you too.” You whispered into the darkness

 *** 

 Leonard McCoy stood in a private room in his medbay looking at his soulmates cold body. He half heartily picked up the chart which lay on the bedside as he had so many times before. He read over the details as he had so many times before. 

 ‘Lutenient Y/N Y/L/N 

 Time of death: 15:34

 Killed in Action’ 

 He checked his watch. 

 18:32. 

 Maybe it was time. 

 He brushed his hand over your forehead tucking your hair behind your ears. He had no more tears left to spill. He took your hand in his and placed a forceful kiss on your forehead.

 “I’m sorry.” He stated. Not remorseful. Not angrily. Just stated. 

 His pressed the buzzer by the bed letting the on duty nurses know you were ready to be collected. 

 A small team arrived flashing sympathetic smiles towards Leonard.

 He instinctively started to help until Nurse Chapel put a hand to his chest. “You don’t have to do this bit Leonard.” He nodded his head and stood back as the rest of the nurses wheeled your bed out of the room. “Go home.” She said squeezing his hands and then she left closing the door behind her.  

 Leonard knew he would still be expected to work. They were too far into deep space to get extra crew. But for now Chapel was right Leonard needed to go home. To his empty quarters you both called home. 

 Leonard began to cry again. Because now it was over. 

 He could hear a situation in the corridor. Biobeds going wild. Nurses shouting. But his instincts didn’t kick in until he heard them call out his name. 

 “DOCTOR MCCOY!” They shouted for the second time as Leonard drew a hand down his face picking up his medical pack and moved into the corridor were you sat upright on the bed. 

 Leonard was frozen for a minute. Legs stuck to the ground. Then he heard your voice. 

 “Move! MOVE!” He shouted as he rushed to your side his eyes flickering all over your face and then to the monitors beside you. “How the hell are you still alive?!”

 “Honestly, I’m just as confused as you are.” You leaped forward from the bed towards Leonard but he pushed you backwards lifting your top to look at your wound, brows knitted. 

 “Really, Leonard? You’re really killing the moment here.” 

 “It’s gone? How the hell is it gone?” He ran his fingers over your side. 

 You reached your hand into your pocket revealing the greenest plant with the crystallised leaves. 

 “You FOUND IT?!” 

 “Believe it or not Leonard I’m not awful at my job.” 

 “How did that- but how did it work?” 

 You cast your mind back to Leonard appearing at the dome doors, “I swallowed it. I had one of its leaves in my mouth, I accidentally swallowed it when they pushed me.”

 “Sorry, you ATE an unidentified plant you’d JUST found?” Leonard said, disgust covering his face. 

 “...Yeh.” 

 “Again. How the HELL are you still alive.” Leonard wrapped his arms around your back lifting you from the bed. You wrapped your legs around his body. 

 An intimate moment that was positively seen by the room. Neither of you cared. It made sense. Every inch of you belonged together. There you stayed, fitting together seamlessly.

[annoyedfanfiction]

Jim Kirk x fem!reader (16) Beyond, ft Jim and Spock’s epic lack of communication with each other and their girlfriends

“Romulan!” Edison growled, as you caught up to him in the vents. “Half, actually.” You dodged the punch he threw, and launched yourself at him, knocking him to the ground and sending the Abronath tumbling. He scrambled to his feet with a roar, snatching it up and bolting down another intersecting vent. Jim sprinted up behind you and took off after Edison as you hauled yourself to your feet. “You won the war, Edison,” Jim was insisting, as you reached them both in the chamber. “You gave us peace.”  “Romulans walk freely among you, while your precious Federation couldn’t even find time to save its own soldiers. We lost our souls, but found purpose! A means to bring the galaxy back to the struggle that made humanity strong!” Edison leered, grin dark, then looked to you, as Jim opened his comm.  “I think you underestimate humanity,” Jim snapped back, not moving his phaser from its lock on Edison. “And what does your Romulan girlfriend say to that?” Edison snarled. “I fought for humanity. Lost millions in the Xindi, and the Romulan wars!” He swiped at you again, catching you around the throat and dragging you to him. “And for what? So that this abomination could walk among us?” He waved the Abronath in front of you, and you snatched for it, clasping one hand around it and pulling. He tightened his other hand around your throat, and Jim’s phaser lowered as you obscured his shot to Krall, pinned tight to the man’s chest. “For the Federation to sit me in a Captain’s chair and fraternise with the enemy? To taint our blood like this?” He lifted you towards Jim, trying to shake your grip from the Abronath. “We change!” Jim insisted, keeping his voice level. “We have to. Or we spend the rest of our lives fighting the same battles!” “So instead you invite them into your home?” Edison snarled. The siren began, and he swung both you and the Abronath into Jim, knocking you both to the floor in a tangle of limbs. You were first to your feet, pulling Jim after you as you followed Edison up the ladder. The anti gravity chamber activated, and you jetted yourself into Edison’s floating figure, slamming him against the wall. He flipped you, slamming his fist into your face in quick succession. Jim tackled him off you, warring with him for the Abronath, until Edison slammed it against the glass wall and you all fell.

“Jim!” You dangled dangerously from the metal framework that had held the glass together, twisting to try and see him. “You lost!” You could hear Jim shouting as they stabilised themselves on the white tower below. “No way you can make it back there! Give up!” “Don’t underestimate pure, unadulterated rage, Jim,” you murmured, tugging yourself up onto the bar. “What, like you did?” Edison snarled, still determinedly moving away from Jim on the tower. “I read your ship log, Captain James T Kirk! At least I know what I am! I am a soldier!” You followed his eyes, and drew your gaze to the glass still floating in mid air. “He’s going to use the slipstream!”  You slammed the comm open, not caring what line you got onto. “Edison’s going to use the slipstream!” “Who the hell are you?” an unfamiliar voice answered. ”Ambassador (Y/N) (L/N) of the Enterprise,” you snapped. “I’m telling you, if you don’t get this information to Montgomery Scott right now, every single person on this entire starbase is going to be killed.” “Peace is not what I was born into.” Edison jettisoned himself off the tower, forcing himself gracefully into the slipstream. Jim opened his comm. “Don’t!” You yelled, but your voice was lost as Jim launched himself after Edison. Edison rolled into the chamber, and you caught him by the throat, forcing him backwards. He swung the Abronath forward, catching you directly in the temple, and you staggered back, dimly watching him launch himself into the chamber as you tipped off the edge.

“(Y/N)!” Jim soared passed you in the slipstream as you fell. “Get Edison!” you insisted, twisting yourself in the air just in time to catch onto the edge of the tower. You could see Jim and Edison fighting in the chamber above you as you hung precariously there, fingers biting raw as you tried to haul yourself up again. You slipped, and fell. “Ambassador, open your eyes,” Spock’s calm voice insisted. You cracked them a tiny bit, still stinging from the wind rush of your fall. “This is a very Tholian looking ship, just saying,” you commented, eventually. Bones huffed. “If you’re well enough to make smart comments, you’re well enough to get up here and help me,” he commanded, brusquely. “Spock! Get back to what you were doing, we have an idiot to save.”

“What would I do without you, Spock?” Jim asked, still flat on his back on the floor of Krall’s repurposed ship. “Die, probably,” Bones reflected, calmly, as Spock just raised an eyebrow. “I think you can safely relieve yourself of the “probably”, Len,” you laughed, feeling relief release your chest. “This is at least the third time you and Spock have brought him back from the brink of death. If we’re counting less public instances, you’re well into the hundreds.” “(Y/N),” Jim breathed, happily, making no move off the floor. “Self-sacrificial bastard,” you answered, joining him on the floor, your head resting on his stomach. “You were ready to do the exact same thing.”

“Where’s (Y/N)? She was here earlier,” Jim asked, eventually, looking around at the room full of his friends and crew. “Actually, Uhura and Chapel have disappeared as well.” “Those three could take down the world together, Jim,” Bones assured him, handing him another drink. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Jim hummed noncommittally, still scanning the room as he took a sip of his drink. He spotted the three girls over in the corner, and sent you a warm smile. You smiled back at him, he thought, but he was soon swept off in to the crowd of his crew. “There are a lot of rules.” Somehow he wound up in front of Jaylah, smiling happily as she took the Academy acceptance form. “But that doesn’t mean you should follow them all.” Spock gave him a disapproving look, but everyone else laughed, leaving Jaylah to look perplexed at the enigma of the best crew in StarFleet. The discussion splintered into small groups, and she slipped away, over to where you were sulking by the wall, Nyota and Christine engaged in conversation not too far away.

“Congratulations, Jay.” You gestured to the letter. “You deserve it. You’ll keep in touch, right? Let us all know how you’re doing? Pike’ll have you through before the new ship is done, I bet.” “That will only be two years,” Jaylah replied, frowning. “Less if Montgomery Scotty can get his way. This says three years.” “Yeah, but Jim and Spock both did it in two, and Chekov and I got one and a half for ‘exceptional circumstances’,” you shrugged, smiling at her. “I reckon you’re pretty exceptional yourself, Jay.” She smiled. “You are unhappy,” she said, eventually sobering. “You have not spoken to James T all night.” “I’ll recover,” you sighed, forcing your smile to stay, “So will he. C’mon, I’ve seen you holding your liquor over there, but no one’s had the decency to offer you something that actually tastes nice. You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, right? We’ll get you a nice cocktail.”

“Bones,” Jim complained, urgently, pulling McCoy aside as you all disembarked the shuttle from Yorktown, the Enterprise-A’s quickly developing form clearly visible in the distant shipyards. Sulu passed them, Demora balanced on his left hip, his right hand in his husband’s. On their far side, you and Chapel made your way off, adamantly not looking at Jim and his CMO. “What?” McCoy asked, taking in the seriousness on Jim’s face with a raised eyebrow. Uhura and Spock passed, deep in conversation. “Why aren’t you bothering (Y/N)?” “Because she’s not bothering me!” he answered, huffily. “That’s what I’m saying. I think she’s angry with me.” “You think?” Suddenly Nyota had reappeared, a reluctant Spock at her side. “I was mad at Spock for planning to leave and he told me he was going to.” “Wait what?” Jim quizzed, blankly. “Leaving?” “I believe Nyota is referring to your application for the position of Vice Admiral,” Spock clarified, calmly. “Damn right I’m referring to that,” Nyota snapped, stepping forward and pressing a finger into his chest. “She’s heartbroken! What, were you planning for her to just wake up in the Captain’s quarters one day and be told she’d been reassigned crew quarters by the new Captain?” “No!” Jim protested, jerking away. “I would never have–no!”

“Then what, Jim?” Nyota dropped her hand, and all the anger disappeared from her face. “Because as far as I can see, you applied to get off that ship and uproot your home without even telling her, let alone considering her. So, if you weren’t planning to throw your three year relationship out the window, what were you planning?” Jim opened his mouth to answer, but found no words. Uhura shook her head, turning away, before spinning back, dark eyes sad. “You remember when she took shore leave when we stopped off at Betazed? To visit Tixa and her family?” Of course he remembered. You’d used a video link one evening to contact him and the new petty officer misinterpreted it as an official signal and put it up on the bridge screen. As if nothing was strange, you’d greeted Jim and the whole bridge crew while balancing Altrena, now seven, on your lap. Twelve year old Lixa was positively thrilled to see Bones, asking him how his “med lab” was going, and explaining that she was going to be a doctor like him when she finished school, because she had wanted to be an ambassador but she thought Altrena would be better at that. It had only been a month before Krall. “Tixa sourced a singing Janaran charm for her while she was there. A different version of the crystals we were given after Maidara, they come with a vial of water from the Janaran falls, and they sing when the two are connected.  She was saving it for your birthday, figured it might make a day you hated so much a little less terrible.”

[trade-baby-blues]

Routine

Pairing: Jim Kirk x Reader 

Word Count: 1625

Warnings: ANGST, depression, mentions of character death

A/N: So, uh...this was supposed to be a Christmas story...based on this prompt: “Character A and Character B broke up, but now they meet at a Christmas party” requested by an anon. We’re gonna pretend it’s at Christmas 😅

Wake up. Eat breakfast. Brush teeth. Go to work. Wake up. Eat breakfast. Brush teeth. Go to work. It was more than routine - it was mechanical. You were a robot trying to ignore the gaping hole in your chest, trying to figure out how to function like a human when your world had stopped turning months ago, when every color seemed dull compared to the piercing blue eyes that still plagued your dreams. Things were easier this way. Wake up. Eat breakfast. Brush teeth. Go to work.

The same music played through your office as you typed, Mozart’s Toccata and Fugue. It was the farthest you could get from the 1980s alternative hip hop your ex always listened to. You could still remember the way his eyes would light up whenever a Beastie Boys song came on. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he’d stop everything to jam out on an air guitar like no one was watching. You were, of course. You could never tear your eyes away from him in moments like these. It was the only time that Jim really seemed to completely let loose.

“Helloooo. Anyone home?” Your boss waved his hand in front of your face. You pulled the pen from between your lips, teeth marks all over the cap. How long had you been zoned out this time?  

“Sorry, sir. I’m just...out of it today.” You offered him a weak smile, trying to ignore the pity in his eyes.

He put his hand on your shoulder. A fatherly gesture that made you realize how long it's been since you’d been touched by someone else. “If you need to take a day…”

“No, I’m...I’m fine. I need to work. We should get back to the meeting.” Your boss frowned but made no attempt to argue as he dived back in.

You gasped for breath as your eyes snapped open. You had to get up. Had to get out. The sheets tightened around your legs and your throat. You couldn't breathe. Then you were falling, falling until your head caught the edge of the nightstand and your elbow hit the floor. The room spun. Your heart raced. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on anything but the lifeless blue eyes branded onto your mind and the cruel laugh that followed you around every corner.

Blood slid from the wound on your forehead down your cheek, down your neck like a lover’s caress. Every logical brain cell in your body screamed for you to ignore it, to get up, to follow routine, but something sinister twisted inside you. A dragon roaring to life in the cold furnace of your chest. You were a puppet on imaginary strings, watching as your arm was lifted, as your fingers touched your forehead and came away crimson. Then, the dragon spread its wings and took flight, dragging you kicking and screaming with it as the room fell away from you, replaced by screeching metal and blaring alarms.

You were back on the Enterprise, your first field mission since graduating from Starfleet. It wasn't common for journalists to accompany crew on long missions, but the Enterprise wasn't a common ship. Everyone in the fleet wanted to know more about the ship, led by the larger-than-life James Kirk. Your job was to profile the crew, to highlight the faces behind the best ship in the galaxy. You spent a lot of time getting to know everyone, especially Jim.

You tried to remain professional but interviewing him became harder and harder the more time you spent together. You wanted to know more about Jim than his inspirations and his dreams. You wanted to know everything - what food he liked, which side of the bed he preferred, what made him feel safe. Most of all, you wanted to know what made him smile.

Once you found out, it was all you could do. His smile was so intoxicating. When the two of you were alone and he gave you that special smile he reserved for you. God, there was nothing more beautiful in the ‘verse. His entire face lit up, and the edges of his eyes would wrinkle. He smiled with his whole body, his whole being, and it filled you with longing to do better, to be better so you could see that smile for the rest of your life.

Then Pike died and Jim stopped smiling.

Then Khan came and Jim stopped breathing.

You watched him, through inch thick glass and steel as the light you’d spent the last few months worshipping faded away, throwing the deepest parts of you into darkness. Everything else drained from you, leaving one thought in your mind. One thought that forced you to your feet, to the ground after Khan. All thoughts of risk died with Jim. If you couldn't beat Khan, maybe he’d at least have the mercy to kill you.

He did, for a short time. Until, Dr. McCoy brought your body back to life. You weren't so sure about the rest. Every time you looked in the mirror you still saw a corpse. You dreamt of death, of something in the darkness with Khan’s face and Khan’s voice but the twisted body of a creature unknown to you wrapping its icy hands around your throat until you were gasping for air, begging for mercy, for death, for Jim but he wasn't there. He couldn't be there. He was wrestling with his own demons.

From an outsider’s view, things got better. Your profiles were published. You wrote a book about your experience with Khan and your tryst with death. People stopped you in the street to congratulate your bravery, to ask you what was next. You couldn't tell them, not because you couldn't see the future but because you couldn't see a future at all.

That’s why your therapist suggested a routine. Get up. Eat breakfast. Brush teeth. Go to work. The same thing every day, so there was no question what the future would hold. It would be more of the same. Get up. Eat breakfast. Brush teeth. Go to work. It was enough to keep you on track most days. As you stared at the drying blood on your fingers, though, you knew it wouldn't help today.

You fumbled through the drawer in your nightstand for your phone, typing a message to Bones. Bad day. Need help. Even those four words took tremendous energy, and you let the phone tumble from your hands once the message was sent. You blinked, and he was beside you, gingerly touching the cut on your head, feeling for any broken bones in your arm.

He talked like he was underwater, touched you as if through a blanket. Bones held your hands in his, forcing you to breathe with him until the world came back into focus. He didn't say anything as he packed up his med kit. You didn't say anything as you watched him. How many times had you been here before?

“I’m having a party tomorrow,” Bones said. “You should come.”

“Not really a partier,” someone said. It was your voice, you were sure of it. But it was distant. Hollow.

Bones sighed, closing his eyes. “It’ll be good for you to get out for a night.” He walked to the side of your bed. “The crew misses you. I miss you.” He pressed a kiss over the bandage on your scalp, keeping a hand under your chin. You savored the feel of it. “At least think about it.” You nodded. Bones knew that was good as he’d get and walked to the door. He sent you one last look, but you were already far away again.

He came back the next day, dress in hand, determined to take you out. You didn't fight him, and soon you were back at his place, standing by the window overlooking the city. It looked peaceful from up here. You wondered what peace felt like. Then a hand slid onto the small of your back like a key into a lock, two parts created solely for each other. You looked into the window and saw a ghost.

“You look beautiful,” Jim whispered.

You looked through him, out over the city, the empty furnace of your heart trying to sputter to life. “I know how to clean up.” A smile with nothing behind it.

Jim watched your reflection, more dazzling than any he’d ever seen. Silence fell but he kept his hand in place, hoping that alone would say everything he couldn't bring himself to.

“What are we doing,” you asked, though you weren't sure if you were talking to Jim’s reflection or your own.

“Enjoying the city.”

“I should go,” you muttered. Jim tightened his grip around your waist. You looked away from his reflection, as if seeing the real Jim for the first time. Past the tiredness on his face and the emptiness in his smile, you thought you could see fear in his eyes as they slowly locked with yours.

“Stay,” he whispered. “Please.

“We've done this before. I-”

“Wrote the book on it. Literally.” You let his words sink in but could find no bitterness. There was a spark of joy gone as soon as it was lit. Jim put his free hand on your cheek, brushing your skin with his thumb. His lips were parted in awe of you. You reached your hand up to his jaw, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin, the scratch of stubble as he turned his head to press his lips to the palm of your hand. You felt his lips move against your skin as he whispered, “I think I'm ready for the sequel.”

Tags: 

@the-witching-hours12-3 @outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @thefanficfaerie @brooke-taylor0323 @slither-in-a-half @cuddlememerrick @reading-in-moonlight​ @resistance-is-futile81

[applsauss]

Read My Mind

Description: “That’s strange,” you say as you push him into his apartment (with a careful hand on his chest), “because last night I…” you breathe – breathe – breathe, “had the same dream.”

Fandom: 
Star Trek: TOS

Pairing: James T. Kirk/Reader

Word Count: 1.8k+

Warning(s): None

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-


“Last night I had a dream where we were birds, and we flew up and up until we were in space, and then we kept going, flying farther and farther from the known universe and into the unknown universe, past the edge, until the black of space became a familiar blue again and we realized that we were right back where we started, only this time we were beetles.”

“Last night I dreamed I was stranded in a marketplace on a familiar planet, but I couldn’t speak the language and no one would sell to me because of it – and then the sea of patrons dissolved into a real ocean, with waves for city blocks and ships for stands and I would have drowned if it weren’t for you hauling me up and over, onto your raft.”

“Last night I dreamed I was exploring a cave, and it was so dark I couldn’t see the ceiling or walls, and I walked and then I ran, chased by unseen terrors and the sound of my own footsteps, which grew louder and louder as if running towards me, disembodied, and then I tripped and slipped and fell and I was cold and lost, completely, until I looked up and caught sight of your smile, the light at the end of my tunnel,” you slide your hand down his stubbled cheek and wiggle his chin teasingly.

“Last night,” Jim laughs and swats at your hand, “last night I had a dream where we were two olives in a martini glass at a Starfleet function, on the tray of a waiter who never showed for his shift, and so we kept each other company until the drink was warm and flat and all the guests left and as we laid there, forgotten and wholly unimportant, we never drowned and never felt bad because we still had each other to talk to – and in that moment, that was all we could ever need.”

You try and tamp down the undeniably stupid grin that wants to erupt across your face, but you’re so high on the jetlag and the being with Jim that it’s impossible. Your clock is ticking on ship time and your heart is beating with his in time and Lieutenant James T. Kirk has class in a couple of hours ‘cause you’ve looped the night, but his cheeks are flushed and he’s wearing that dimple that makes you want to kiss his face to pieces and so you don’t find it in you to care that much about anything that isn’t right here and right now.

The air is soft and still where you sit, and the voices from the heart of the party carry easily across the garden because of it. You’re off to the side, lounging on some oversized deck chair, and Jim thumbs a burn on the back of your hand and you tuck yourself farther under his arm, trying to ward off the lingering distaste and nerves that always comes with speaking at Starfleet functions, appearing in front of uniformed officials as you spout off technical terms and point at a presentation screen with deliberately smooth transitions screens.

It never fails to make your skin crawl, the posing and posturing, the dance for funding, like you have to sell yourself, convince everyone in the room that you and your work are worth it on showmanship rather than merit; your badges pinned, collar pressed, shoulders sore from endlessly standing at attention and an plastic smile plastered across your face.

Your head lab technician stepped forward to explain the practical applications of your research, and you finally let yourself breathe, eyes seeking Jim out in an indistinct crowd because he’s the glow coming from under the door in a dark room. Then you stepped off the stage.

The conversation was a constant rumble, the lights were nauseous, an admiral shook your hand, a military history grad offered to buy you a drink, then Jim was guiding you towards a table circled by his colleagues with an easy smile, “Haisrus would never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t introduce him to you,” he’d said, “he’s been obsessing over your work ever since I mentioned you were a friend,” and you laughed and followed him through the crowd because if you knew anything about Jim Kirk, it’s that he always manages to surround himself with the most intriguing and pragmatic people he can find – and then someone said something about a Mexican restaurant – and then you found yourself sitting on a couch in a living room lined with Arcturian art, trading fibs and unprofessional opinions, Jim leaning towards you, laughing in your ear – and then Jim covered your retreat to the garden, sneaking out a minute later for fresh air and a rehash of shared memories – and now he says –

“Let’s go home,” Jim runs a thumb across your cheek, and you know he’s fussing over the dark circles under your eyes, “you deserve some sleep.”

He splits off to thank the host for the drinks, you tug at the collar of your uniform to keep it from cutting into the base of your neck, fabric thick and unyielding as you begin to pick your way through the house towards the front door.

The house is far from crowded, but it’s warm and the laughter is rich and the conversation easy. Your boots hit fuzzy carpet, and you wave goodbye to your lab tech, who’s reclined against the kitchen counter with a Betazed leaning flirtatiously over her. She raises her glass in salute, Jim rounds a corner, pulling on his overcoat, then someone cracks a joke, and it’s that laughter that chases your heels down the front steps and out into the night.

Your silhouettes are forced against a building by the headlights of a passing car, and Jim hikes you higher on his back as he hops the curb onto the sidewalk. You drape yourself over his shoulders, not really paying attention or holding on to anything other than his voice as he sings some song that was popular last year. You drop your chin to his shoulder, and let your arms hang loosely around him – and then his voice cracks and you both laugh.

“Last night,” you begin without much thought, “I dreamed I found you in the ground, and when I tried to pull you out, I fell through it with you – and as we descended through existence itself, we came face to face with the beginning and the end and we discovered the true meaning to life, the universe, and everything.” You hide your nose in the hood of his coat and bite back the anticipation.

He stutters a laugh, unaware, “Forty-two?”

“No, writing scientific reports for Starfleet.”

His shoulders shake with laughter, and it’s easy for you to reap the reward, to take the leap over the edge and join him. He clutches your legs tighter around him in a direct response to almost dropping you, curls forward, giggling, and you hold onto his neck and stifle your own delirious laughter through a close-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he says as he finally slows and turns to make his way up the steps to his apartment building, “don’t remind me this late – or early. Whichever it is, I have still have papers to grade.” He stops in front of the door.

“I can’t believe you’re one of them, Jim,” you say as you pull his wallet out of his coat pocket, “we used to complain about your type, remember? The professor who always has a fresh excuse for why grades aren’t out yet?” With some shuffling, you reach around him and swipe his ID, then boost yourself with one firm hand on his shoulder and grab the door handle as he walks backwards. The heavy door, thankfully, complies, hanging open just long enough for Jim to slip in with a straight back.

“I know,” he moans then, the door hissing shut behind the two of you, “I’m the worst of the worst – I even assign group projects.”

“No! Jim!”

“I know! I know – Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Stop making me feel old.”

His footsteps echo in the empty lobby, approaching and approaching from the back wall, until they’re muted by the carpet (you can’t see the ceiling), and then he steps into the elevator and informs the computer of his floor. You pat his shoulder twice, re-adjust your legs, and he loosens his hold until you slide off his back.

You’re both still as you let the silence blanket the small space. Side by side, surrounded by something soft and physical, Jim bumps his shoulders with yours – and you’re both staring at your reflection in the metal of the door, matching grins, when your communicator chirps.

You fumble to pull it out, the elevator dings, and you follow Jim down the hallway with a hand on his back as your department head informs you that shore leave is being cut short by a week, the reasoning vague and not important; She signs off and you pocket the device.

The floor is black and synthetic, and you’re watching your feet when Jim comes to an abrupt stop in front of a door, presumably his. He reaches out, but his hand stalls in front of the keypad. You can’t see his face, a shadow falling over his expression.

“Jim?” you place a careful hand on his upper arm, “are you alright?”

His hand closes into a fist.

“Jim,” you give his sleeve a firm tug, and he turns and wraps you in a hug, arms loose, but his hands wound tight, pulling at your uniform. You close your eyes and let your hands glide around his middle, pulling him closer and farther towards you until he has no choice but to yield and hug you proper, melting like butter on warm bread.

“I’m just happy you’re here,” he says, pulling away just far enough so you can see his small smile.

Your fingers are carding smoothly through his tamed hair before you can think about doing anything else, “I am, too.” You tug him down for a soft kiss, and his lips move slow and smooth against yours.

“But I’m also happy you’re leaving in a week,” he confesses quietly.

“Jim,” you lose your voice.

You’ve loved others and love others and will love others and he’s loved others and loves others and will love others and this is nothing new – but sometimes it’s hard to see past the moment when the moment exists as something like this: soft and shared and beautiful and promising (“and in that moment, that was all we could ever need,” he says) – but you have a ship waiting for you in orbit and a yearning for something greater, “I am, too.”

He begins to grin, “good,” he punches in the code, and then the door behind him opens, “because last night I dreamed that even as I stood on the edge of the galaxy, that even though the odds were shot, you were standing there, somewhere else, far away, looking at the exact same stars I was.”

One day, you’re sure, this will all fall apart and you’ll have nothing but the notion that there are still questions begging answers, out in the deep of space, but until that day comes, you’ll bathe in whatever sunlight is offered and prepare to deal with that storm when it hits. For now, it sits on the horizon, a dark promise.

“That’s strange,” you say as you push him into his apartment (with a careful hand on his chest), “because last night I…” you breathe – breathe – breathe, “had the same dream.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-


A/N: I remembered that Kirk was a professor at the academy for a while and I just…. Had to write this…....

Masterlist in blog desc.

[samingtonwilson]

What You (Don’t) Look Like - Jim Kirk

Summary: a collection of moments in which you ask jim if you really look like what he’s implying.

Warnings: language, fluff mostly

A/N: i don’t know what this is. i couldn’t think of a title to save my life.

The exam room was dark.

It was dark, air-conditioned, clean, and inviting.

The exam room was the embodiment of absolutely everything you could want in that moment. The exam room was your nirvana, the exam room was your paradise and would remain so for the hour you had for lunch.

You entered with the sleepiest, most exhausted smile lazily pulling at your lips and slammed your hand against the control panel with whatever bit of your energy remained to close the door.

Biobeds were anything but plush, cloud-like, marshmallow mattresses that would hug your body. The mattresses they bore had the thinness of one-ply toilet paper and were about as huggable as a cactus. But the instant you lied on that biobed, your boots toed off by the door and your face buried in the equally flimsy pillow at the head of the bed, you swore you’d never felt something so heavenly.

Your eyes fluttered shut instantly and a soft moan left your lips when the slight bending of one of your legs brought you enough comfort to send you to whatever level of heaven was higher than nirvana.

You were just about to let the sweet hands of sleep take you under when a loud knock was followed by the deafening hissing of the opening door and a blinding stream of light poured in.

You groaned, hugging the pillow closer to you as you squeezed your eyes so something would block all of that brightness. “I’m on my break, Bones! Shut the damn door!”

The door slid shut. “I don’t recall the plan being to meet here.”

The voice was distinctly not Southern and your eyes opened— one by one. You lifted your head and set your chin on the pillow, tilting your head as you looked at Jim’s silhouette outlined by the faint safety lights. “We had plans?”

He sighed as he crouched down by the bed, his arms folded atop the mattress. A kind smile pulled at his full lips. “Meet in my ready room so you could eat the last bit of cereal I snuck on from Earth,” he nodded, scrunching his nose when you let out a dejected breath. “Yeah, angel, we had plans.”

You groaned again and lifted yourself up into a seated position, your legs dangling over the edge of the bed so he was face to face with your knees. You raked your fingers through his hair and thereby wasted whatever time he’d spent on it.

He didn’t mind, though, looking up at you with that same small smile.

“I’m sorry, Jim. How much sleep I need just hit me all at once.”

He stood up and turned around so he could lean back against the edge of the bed, staring at the panel beside the door. “Sleep at night next time.”

Knowing full-well darkness underlined your eyes and exhaustion plagued your irises, you placed your hand under his chin and guided his eyes back to you, asking with a small smile, “Do I look like someone who sleeps at night?”

You spent the night in Jim’s quarters.

From the outside, it always looked like something was happening between the two of you. With the witty, flirty remarks you passed to one another, with the longing stares you hid from one another, with the insanely large amount of time you spent with one another, it definitely looked like something was happening.

From the inside, though, things were different than they appeared. You were platonic. Totally, absolutely, and unfortunately platonic.

In this case specifically, you were charting, drinking, and talking while he was reading, drinking, and talking– platonically. You both got work done while spending time with each other— platonically. It was truly a two-birds-with-one-stone type situation.

You thought for a moment it was a three birds situation as you realized all the non-replicated, almost contraband-like Earth food the two of you managed to sneak on board was stored in his quarters.

Hair wet from the shower, right foot bare, and left boot only a third of the way zipped up, you hobbled into the kitchenette.

Jim chuckled as he watched you. “You need some help there?”

“I’m too tired to bend and zip. I also don’t want to flash my underwear at you in this stupid uniform and the prevention of that takes too much energy.”

He shook his head, crouching immediately. He zipped up the left boot and took the right boot from your hand to slip onto your foot, zipping that one as well. He looked up at you with narrowed blue eyes. “Is that good, Cinderella?”

“Perfect. D’you have coffee?”

He hummed, standing up straight and picking up his Starfleet mug. “I used the last bit of hazelnut creamer.”

Your mouth fell open. “I brought that on board and didn’t even get any!” You reached for his mug and sighed when he leaned back. “Jim, give me the coffee.”

On pure childish impulse, he dragged his tongue over the entire rim of the mug before dipping it into the warm, tan liquid that had the most pleasant flavor of hazelnut. He smiled triumphantly when you looked at him disbelievingly.

You snatched the cup away as he was busy cockily grinning over his victory, taking a long sip and sighing in satisfaction. You nodded upwards at his furrowed eyebrows. “I’m sorry. Do I look like someone who would be stopped by that juvenile behavior?”  

Leonard’s office was one of your favorite places on the Enterprise— always cool but not too cool, always quiet but not too quiet. You’d spend all of your breaks there if you could help it— and you did, unless Jim asked you to meet somewhere else specifically.

You sat with your legs stretched out, your posture slouched, your eyes closed with your nose tipped towards the ceiling. Your breathing was even, your aching, overworked muscles relaxing more with each exhale.

It was a busy day in the medbay, which could be expected when Scotty was on medical leave to recover from a flu, leaving his engineers to run amok. Superficial burns, subtle bruises, and cuts that were luckily not too deep were all you had to look forward to for the entirety of your shift. Of course, you were glad no one was badly hurt but it was difficult to find and hold onto a silver lining when the patients kept flowing in as if part of an endless stream.

“Darlin’, someone might mistake you for a corpse if you lie so still.”

Eyes still shut, lips barely moving, you replied, “The goal is to be relaxed, Bones. I’m attempting relaxation.”

He snorted and you could just picture the rolling of his deep hazel eyes. “Want a drink to help with that?”

“Is that meant to be taunting? You know I’m on-call tonight.”

“How am I meant to know that?”

You opened your eyes and frowned. “You make the schedules.”

He looked up from his PADD, tilting his head. “I’ve got more physicians than just you, sugar. You’re flatterin’ yourself if you think I’ve memorized your schedule.”

“You’re flattering yourself if you think I believe you. You’re obsessed with me.” You closed your eyes again, ignoring the opening of the door behind you.

“Is there a dead body in that chair?”

You frowned, sitting up and glaring at Leonard as you saw Jim sit down beside you from your peripheral vision. “Seriously, do you two just share one mind or is there some telepathic shit happening here?”

“Telepathic shit,” Jim answered, smirking when you looked at him. He held a large, warm hand out to you. “Come on, angel. Get dinner with me.”

“Jim, do I look like someone who has enough energy to do anything other than sit?”

He sighed dramatically, rising as if he hadn’t just sat down, and muttered, “Fine. But I’m only bringing you a sandwich. And I’m not bringing you dessert— s’not like you won’t end up taking mine anyway. Nothing for you, Bones.”

Perched atop a barstool as you watched Jim make a fool of himself for the twelfth time that night, you spun the thin red straw in your ice-filled drink. You tilted your head when the woman he spoke to began to laugh, giggles leaving her lips as her hand was flat against her chest. You had to suppress the urge to snarl openly.

Leonard chuckled as he watched your lips struggle against downward movement, sitting beside you with his elbows placed on the sticky bar counter. “Oh, sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart.”

You brought your drink to your lips and took a large gulp. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Talk to him.”

You snorted, pressing your glass to one of your cheeks which felt hot from the alcohol in your system. “I’ll talk to him in hell.”

He chuckled again, louder this time— loud enough to have Jim glance over curiously.

It was when that giggly woman lost interest that he walked over to the two of you, Leonard still smirking with a barely concluded laugh while you continued to scowl deeply. “I seemed to have lost whatever game I once had.”

“Ain’t ever had game,” Leonard quipped, taking a sip of his bourbon and leaning forward to look past you once Jim sat down on your other side. “You’re a good lookin’ guy, people just concentrate on that.”

“Will you sleep with me, Bones?” Jim asked, smiling to himself.

“Hard pass,” he replied dryly. “Come to think of it, I’ll be seein’ you two later. That empty booth is really callin’ my name.”

You watched with a firm frown as Leonard left, shaking your head once he sat in an empty booth with a look of peaceful contentment.

“You tell me, angel,” Jim began, capturing your attention once more. “What am I supposed to do to have game again?”

You truthfully didn’t understand why he didn’t “have game.” The way he looked at you when he uttered that single sentence made the prospect even more impossible— you felt like you were all he could see, all he wanted to see. You had to look away. “First of all, don’t call it having game. Secondly, I don’t know.”

“I just need advice.”

“Advice? From me?” you asked, meeting his gaze once more. “I’m compared to unmeltable ice most of the time by everyone, I can’t sleep in someone else’s bed after having sex no matter how long the relationship, most of the people I date never hear me say I’m even fond of them. So, you tell me, do I look like someone who knows what they’re doing romantically?”

You were staring at your PADD while Jim and Leonard argued. You weren’t even sure what the argument was about— they argued too much for you to make an attempt at keeping track.

It was just the way their dysfunctional relationship functioned. They had differing opinion and would yell the respective opinions at each other only to both switch sides and start all over. The fights were rooted in unimportant issues, charged by odd bouts of masculine energy, and totally not worth your time.

So as you sat atop the counter in your favorite exam room, swinging your legs, you clicked your tongue in a random rhythm.

When you got too into the little song your tongue clicking composed and started bobbing your head, you looked up and saw both men staring at you expectantly. You clapped your hands together once you set your tablet down. “Whip ‘em out, I’ll measure.”

“What?” Leonard asked first.

You smiled and shook your head. “Nothing. What’d you need?”

“Bones thinks—”

“Wait, is this about the argument?” Upon their nods, you shook your head once more with a laugh. “If you’ve already switched sides, the two will come to the same conclusion in, like, three minutes– if not, I give it ten minutes. I thought you were going to ask me to check on a patient or something.”

“At least listen,” Jim began once more.

You shook your head at the two of them. “I’m not taking sides here. Not between the two of you. I mean, do I even look like someone who wants any part of this?”

Another night spent in Jim’s quarters.

You barely slept this time, knocking back drink after drink of an alcoholic beverage not even legal according to Federation regulations.

You told him about everything— about why you thought you were so romantically inept, about why you could never sustain a friendship with anyone that didn’t try a lot harder than you did, about why you felt so free on a ship that was so physically restrictive.

He told you about everything, too— about why he was so romantically inept, about why he felt like he could never go back to Iowa without risking a black eye and broken teeth, about why he needed the control being captain allowed him.

Though he was working the following morning, he knew you needed a night to vent and to hear stories you weren’t involved in, stories you could lose your problems in for just a minute. So he sacrificed his sleep, listening and talking to his heart’s content.

After all, you understood each other— and he’d happily give up sleep for that.

He awoke long before you absolutely had to, your day off allowing you a morning to sleep in and relax. He shut his alarm off so it wouldn’t disturb you, turning to look at you as soft snores left your slightly parted lips.

He smiled a bit, leaning forward but stopping himself before he could press a kiss to your forehead.

He stared a little longer and climbed out of bed when he felt sufficiently creepy. He was successful in keeping the room’s peace.

It was when he got into the shower that you were stirred awake without a sliver of hope to resume your slumber.

He was singing and, while it wasn’t your first time hearing him sing, something about it made you want to keep listening so you could memorize his tone, his pitch, the notes he managed to hit, every bit of his voice as if it was a precious sound you didn’t hear often.

It was an old song— something he’d told you about before, something you remembered as being the song his mother would sing him every night so a restless young Jim would finally be lulled to sleep.

You were sitting up in bed when the bathroom door slid open, his humming much louder without the barrier between the two of you. You smiled at him when he caught you fully awake. “S’a nice song. What’s it called?”

“Fly Me to the Moon— s’a million years old,” he said with a shrug of his bare shoulders, water droplets falling from his hair and rolling down his torso to dampen trousers he hadn’t done up yet. “What are you doing up? You have the day off.”

You shrugged back, still smiling. “You’re the most pleasant sounding alarm clock I’ve ever had.”

“Fuck, angel, I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled his black undershirt on. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, I just have this obnoxious habit of always singing in the shower—”

“Now, Jim, do I look like someone who is miserable to hear that smooth-as-honey-and-melted-chocolate voice?” you asked with a tilted head. “Sing more.”

It’d been a week since the two of you had spoken.

An achingly long, irrational week during which you lived in a silence you convinced yourself was peaceful and not totally deafening. An achingly long week you wanted to spend moving on rather than staying still in the same, disgustingly jealous place as the week before.

It’d been two weeks since the onset of your blinding jealousy, your disgusting jealousy.

Objectively, there was nothing wrong with what he’d done. Objectively, he was a friend to you and nothing more. Objectively, that meant he could sleep with whoever he wanted on shore leave and you had no right to feel anything about it.

But subjectively, it ate you up inside. Subjectively, you were feeling too many indistinguishable things that gave you a sore chest and a confused mind.

And it wasn’t as if your final interaction was meaningful. You just said hello in the halls and nothing else. You didn’t even look at him when you said it— the blue of his eyes held too much pain, too much confusion for your weak self-control.

You got better at hiding from him as a result. In your own quarters, in the medbay, in the corner beside Scotty’s make-shift office in the bowels of the Enterprise— you were now proud at your ability to hide from him.

You questioned your pride the moment you looked up from that special dark corner only illuminated by the warp core, only soundtracked with the hum of the warp core, to see an angry Jim standing before you. Even his heavy footsteps had sounded angry.

Before you could let him see your face fall, you looked back at the novel pulled up on your PADD.

“(Y/N).”

You hummed but didn’t even spare him a glance.

He sighed. “You aren’t speaking to me.”

Your hum ended in an implied question mark.

“You aren’t speaking to me and I—” another sigh, “I need you to speak to me. And look at me— I need you to look at me.”

You lifted your head so it lolled against the metallic wall behind you, your nose tipped upwards to meet his eyes— eyes surrounded by and imbued in exhaustion. You would have been sent to your knees had you been standing. “Now what?”

“Now I— Now I want to know why we aren’t speaking.” He combed his fingers through his hair and pulled at the ends— uncharacteristic for a man so obsessed with styling his hair. You would’ve quirked an eyebrow under normal circumstances. “You’re my closest friend and—”

“Bones is your closest friend.”

He tilted his head. “Why aren’t we speaking?”

“We’re speaking right now.”

“I mean in general,” he sighed loudly in frustration, gaining the attention of a passing red shirt. “Can you just answer me? Do me a favor and just answer me.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Bullshit.”

You narrowed your eyes and pushed yourself off the ground so you stood at your full height. “Don’t demand answers and then call them crap when they’re not what you want to hear.”

“Then don’t lie so blatantly. I’ve told you before that you have a tell,” he said as he had the audacity to crack a small smile that sent something strong through your chest. “Your right eyebrow raises.”

You blinked, pausing for a moment before shaking your head and trying to push past him. “Goodnight, Jim.”

He sighed as you walked a few steps away, catching up to you easily. He had the good sense not to grab your hand and pull you to a stop. “I can’t— I can’t not speak to you everyday, and see you everyday, and be around you everyday!”

You spun around, frowning. “Do I look like someone who wants to be around you everyday?”

Seconds of stillness and silence passed until he laughed through his nose humorlessly. “You used to want that.”

You nodded with half a shrug. “That was before I knew what I was getting myself into.”

“What? What did you get yourself into, angel? What’s so bad about me that even you—”

“You know, I’m totally in love with you,” you almost laughed, staring at him in what felt like defeat. “Yeah, like, hearts in my eyes, write your name all over a fucking notebook, head over whatever in love with you.”

Full lips parted, eyes widened as he stared at you. “Wh—”

“Ever since that night at the bar, I feel heartbroken. I feel like you cheated on me. Which is ridiculous because we aren’t dating and we both have sex with other people all the time!” You were actually laughing now, a bit of dreaded wetness on your cheeks that you wiped away furiously. You ignored the steps he took towards you. “I can’t be around you after that. It hurts now.”

He took a half-step towards you this time, his face just inches from yours. He didn’t know where to put his hands, deciding on placing one at your waist and one on the back of your neck. “I didn’t do anything that night.”

“What?”

“I didn’t do anything with that person from the bar. I almost did until I realized how stupid all of this is,” he said with a slight laugh. His thumb stroked your jaw so softly you thought you were made of glass. “I shouldn’t be sleeping with other people when I’m in love with my best friend.”

With that he leant forward, brushing your noses together before pressing his lips to yours. His arm tightened around you almost instantly, holding you up when you thought you might collapse.

When you began to kiss him back, the relaxation you felt in your every limb and the warmth you felt in your every vein was almost indescribable. You kissed him with every bit of love inside of you, your hands against his chest in uncertainty of where to hold him.

Just as your fingers combed through the hair on the nape of his neck, he pulled away and placed his forehead against yours, his breath washing over your heated cheeks. “You’re sure? About how you feel— you’re sure? Because there’s no going back for me.”

“Do I look like someone who is unsure?”

[speedygal]

Nothing can come close to this - chapter 2

“Then you must go,” T’Pen said, after turning away from the large crowd of Vulcans in the direction of Spock. “We may not have our freedom but the empire would find a colony and allow us to start all over with their eyes on us.”

Spock observed the crowd feeling helpless.

“Understood,” Spock said.

Five hundred Vulcans were all that were left of a thriving and loyal to the empire individuals. His heart broke at the sight of children who had been cleaned in days if not weeks wearing stoic masks. There were quite a few sehlats part of the population held in a separate part of the ship that had regeneratable patches of grass embedded in a thick level of soil spread on the contained decks. His father, his human mother, and siblings would be horrified at the depleted number of their civilization. Michael. . . Michael . . Michael would be taken at a loss. It was a good thing that all of his family had died of old age before the disaster had struck ShiKahr,.

“Live long and prosper,” Spock gave the ta’al.

And for some reason, he felt like they wouldn’t be able to have that with their decision.

Spock strode through the hatch that divided the station from the ship with his hands linked behind his back. The door closed behind him with a soft click. The halls were bright yellow and blue contrasting against the dark situation that he was in. He saw the Terran symbol decorating most of the doors that he walked past. He passed on by the Terrans who stopped what they were doing and watched him in awe passing them. He made his way to the turbo lift then walked inside. He reached his hand out instinctively for the long pillar sticking out of the wall only to nearly fall forwards for something  that wasn’t there. He regained his bearings then looked around the room to recall that it was a audio system.

“Deck 5,” Spock requested.

The turbo lift moved to his request. The lights from around him flickered a gentle blue from around him. His heavy heart felt like it was being tucked further and further down by the force of gravity and his body was flying in the air heading toward space. The doors opened before him and he lifted his head up to see there were two Tellarites standing side by side deep in conversation. He stepped aside then walked on past them overhearing a discussion about a anomaly. It eased Spock’s thoughts about the science side of the empire still flourishing among the every day cruel. It was a aspect of serving Starfleet that he had missed the most: discovering. He walked on down the hall until he came to the door that stood out among the rest. It was covered in newly made graffiti that read “EMPEROR KILLER” and “traitor lover!”. Spock pressed on a panel.

“Come in!” Kirk sang.

The doors opened before the elderly Vulcan who walked right in.

“Welcome,” Kirk said, standing up from the couch as the door closed behind the Vulcan. Kirk wore a charming smile. “Welcome to my humble home.”

Spock observed the traditionally bright room that was full of weapons and antiques.

“Quite the collection you have here,” Spock observed, his eyes on the bat’leth  “Fought a Klingon and lived to tell about it. Quite a impressive feat.”

“It was a parting gift from the Klingons,” Kirk said.

Spock walked away from the bat’leth approaching the man.

“My people have spoken,” Spock said. “They accept.”

Kirk raised his eyebrows, surprised, as though he hadn’t expected it then grew a wry mile holding his glass up.

“I changed my mind,” Kirk said.

“Why?” Spock asked, his brown eyes following the younger man to the table.

“Because I like you,” Kirk said. “I don’t know why but I think you’re the one.”

Spock raised his eyebrow.

“The one for what?” Spock inquired

Kirk looked down toward the table then turned his gaze up.

“Do you believe in soulmates, Mr Spock?” Kirk asked.

“Affirmative,” Spock replied.

“Like that,”  Kirk said.

“But we have a different word for it,” Spock said.

“What is it?” Kirk asked.

“Before I tell you,” Spock said. “I must  perform a mind meld to be certain.”

“You may perform a meld with me,” Kirk said.

Spock approached the younger man then placed a hand on the side of his face. He slipped into the admiral’s mind. Soothing, peaceful, and content. It was a calm body of water that took away the years of age from Spock’s body and he felt partially at one. Almost whole. Rather being incomplete. There was still a missing half. Spock detached himself from the body of water, gliding out of the hall of memories, and exited Kirk’s mind all together seeing a pre-existing bond shake off its dust becoming active once more. The man had some residual damage from previous melds lingering in his mind.  It dawned on Spock.

“T’hy’la,” Spock said. “We call it T’hy’la.” Spock stepped back.

Kirk wore a look that said it was a thrilling experience from his side of the experience.

“I know what you’re up against so might I . . . suggest. . . getting out of this sector through a very effective but illegal way?” Kirk offered.

“Go on,” Spock said.

“My friends and I, um, uh,” Kirk tripped over his words. “Went into stasis pods a hundred years ago according to your history hiding in a asteroid. We were only recently found a few years ago and given a clean slate because everyone we knew were dead. We were not seen as dangerous enemies anymore so  Emperor Janeway decided to turn us into stationary officers in a part of space that she could keep her eyes on us. This sector station was overseen by my friend, Scotty, when it was being designed and it has plenty of unseen exits in case of a situation like this.” Spock looked at Kirk, skeptically. “I can’t do my job right now with you around.”

“Are these exits big enough for bears?“ Spock inquired. “If not, we cannot leave and we will deal with the empire.” Kirk grew curious.

“What is important about them?” Kirk asked.

“They are pets,” Spock said. “And part of my culture.”

“Anything else part of your culture that you need to take with?” Kirk asked.

“Anything else pertaining to the knowledge of our civilization and culture is capable of being put into a backpack,“ Spock said. “We are sufficient regarding that matter.”

“Then we’re good,” Kirk said. “Just need a distraction that can give us enough time to evacuate your ship.”

“If we have holo-emitters  then they are for education purposes,” Spock said. “We cannot use them.”

“Not yours,” Kirk said. “mine.”

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

Katie’s B-Day Mckirk Challenge!!

First off let me just say a giant HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! to my dear friend Katie, A.K.A @goingknowherewastaken , who this fic is for <3 You are literally the best person ever! I love talking to you, i love hashing out random head cannons with you, and you deserve to have the most super awesome birthday ever! and so, here is the first chapter of your bday challenge fic.

Our Forbidden Love

Title: Our Forbidden Love

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)

Relationships: Jim  Kirk x Leopnard McCoy

Warnings: there will probably be an explicit scene in here at some point.

Description: A drunken King sits atop a throne he does not deserve, his thirst for power, strength, and territory replacing his love for his only son and heir, instead making every attempt at using him as a pawn for his own gain. The young Prince Leonard has been promised to every girl in the land but his heart craves for a love that is real and true. He fears he will have to fall to his father’s fruitless attempts to marry him off until he bumps into a certain servant boy who manages to hold his attention. But, when war is waged upon his own people by his drunken lust filled father, Leonard will be left with a choice. Will he do a duty to himself and fight for love, or will he do his duty to his people and fight for his kingdom?

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Chapter 1:      Cheers erupted through the city. Deep into the night the people of Ellesteen flooded the streets, filled to the brim with drink, dance, and song. Drunken knights stumbled down the crowded roads, one by one being pulled into peasant girl’s houses for the night. Though the night air was chilled, threatening the winter season, the people refused to surrender to it, continuing their festivities as though it were the middle of summer.      

     Deep within the warm walls of the castle behind them, the many inside behaved in much the same way. Mountains of food piled every table, servants rounded the room filling every empty goblet they passed, knights and nobles danced the night away with the most beautiful girls in the land, and none could have been happier.     

     The king stood behind the table at the front of the room, a goblet in one hand and a girl in the other. The countless number of glasses he had already consumed clear in the way he swayed. A drop from his goblet fell, landing on the handsome young boy sitting beside him, a fowl look being sent his way as the boy wiped the red liquid from his face.     

     The king looked down to the boy, dark eyes glaring up at him from under messy dark grey locks. “Come now my boy,” he slurred, “this is a time of celebration! You should be rejoicing with your Knights.”     

     “Down there you mean?” he pointed to the mess of bodies on the floor below him. All squished together in a heap of sweat and lust, “I would much rather be on the battlefield.”     

     A hand landed hard on his shoulder as the king attempted to steady himself as he turned to face the boy, “You may be the prince but that does not mean you have to sit here, stone faced, whilst everyone else has a good time.”      “Yes,” he replied, pushing him away, “I think it does, Father.”     

     “Leonard, you should not be so stiff.” The King’s face was dangerously close to Leonard's as he released a breath, the smell almost making him sick, “One day you will take my place as king and you will be expected to partake in such festivities as these. You should welcome our new allies with joy, Leonard, you show much disrespect while you sit here with your head down and a frown on your face.”     

     “Father, this is absurd!” he roared as he rose from his seat, “I doubt showing the King of the North how drunk I can become will assure him of the bonds our Kingdoms have formed here tonight. I tire of this unnecessary show of false loyalties. You and I both know the Snow King is as steady in his bonds as the ever changing seasons.”     

     “Leonard, no matter how the King of the North may waiver in our alliance matters not now,” he whispered to his son, “what matters is the fact that for the time being he has agreed to stand by us in the event of war. He holds the North, he is King to the largest territory in the land, and he has the most Lords under his command. In the event of battle those Lords will fight for us and we will have the largest combined army any kingdom or territory will have ever seen.”     

    “That is, you mean, if in the event of battle he does decide to hold true to his bonds,” he reminded his King, “We have seen it before. If the Snow King finds himself on the losing side he will not hesitate to stab you in the back with your own sword. Father, I see more faults in this alliance than benefits.”     

     The King clasped his hand around the boys upper arm, shaking him back and forth, “But my boy, we are the first to successfully sign a treaty with the Snow King and his followers in the north, never before has he sealed it in ink. You hold little faith in humanity, my son.”     

     “I have yet to be proven wrong in my lack of faith.” He tore from his fathers hold causing the man to stumble forwards, nearly falling. Leonard gave a sigh, his father’s behavior was nothing short of new but it still remained an embarrassment in the young prince’s eyes. “Father, may I take leave? This celebration wreaks of desperation from one too many circumstances and I cannot breathe it in any longer.”     

     “And you will not take a dance with the princess before you retire?” his father motioned to the young girl at the other end of the table. She sat alone, three knights surrounding her as she watched on. Leonard knew this was no place for such a beauty, trapped like prey in the middle of all these drunken men, but his father’s attempts at marriage for his son saw no boundaries.      Looking back to his father he rolled his eyes, “I have told you many times already, father, I will have no more of your attempts to marry me off. Just because you and the Snow King have joined together does not mean that his daughter and I must follow suit. Now, just as I am taking leave so should she, this is no place for a princess, guarded or not.”     

     “Fine,” the king dismissed him with a wave of his hand, “I can see that if I don’t let you go now you will continue to wallow in your misery. Off with you.”      Leonard bowed to his father, who then turned his attention back to the young girl on his arm, before taking his leave down the steps and through the thick crowd below him. He pushed his way through the mass of people, none of them coherent enough to care that their prince was coming through. Though Leonard cared not, for all he wanted was to reach the door and sprint to his chambers.      

     He had made it halfway through the room, the door was finally in his sights. “Leonard!” a familiar voice called from behind him. He turned seeing his most trusted knight and dearest friend lifting his drink in his direction, “You take leave already? The party has just begun! Grab a goblet and come sit with us. Have a good time for once.”     

     He let go a small smile, “No thank-you, Sir Sulu, you know I do not fair well in such gatherings.” Sulu frowned and gave him a shrug as he continued, “but have you're fun Hikaru, I’ll see you for training at dawn tomorrow.” Leonard couldn’t help but chuckle at the look of pure horror on his friends face. Clearly he had completely forgotten about training, all the more reason for him to work his knights twice as hard tomorrow.      

     Leonard then turned sharply to make his way back to the door, only to collide hard with another body before he could make it any further. The Prince’s excellent reflexes found him still on his feet but the boy he ran into was on his back before him, a pitcher of red wine staining his white tunic, and Leonard’s crown landing beside him with a clang. He quickly reached down, extending a hand to the golden haired boy on the floor who took it graciously. “I'm so sorry,” Leonard began as the boy bent down to retrieve the crown from the ground between them.    

     “You have nothing to be sorry about, my lord,” he said as he stood, Leonard's crown in his hands, “it was I who was not paying attention.”     

     He laughed, “Actually, I was in such a rush to leave I'm the one who should be apologizing.”     

     “Leave?” he questioned, “the crown prince leaving the celebrations so early?”     

     “Yes, I'm afraid so,” Leonard turned to scan the room, still disgusted by the drunken actions of those around him, “this does not really appeal to me like it does others, though…” he turned back to the boy, a smile clear on his face as he took him in, “you have certainly managed to hold my attention. What is your name?”     

     “James, but everyone calls me Jim,” he smiled, “I'm a new servant in the palace and it seems I have already managed to make quite the fool of myself. May I?” he gestured to the crown in his hands.     

     Leonard bowed his head so that Jim could place the crown back where it belonged and smiled as he said, “thank-you, Jim.”     

     A silence fell between them before Jim spoke to break it, motioning towards the door, “Well, I must return to work and find a new shirt while I’m at it, and I shall let you take your leave now, my lord.”     

     “Actually,” he began, “you’ve managed to change my mind, I think I’ll stay a bit longer. Jim.” He bowed.     

     “My Lord,” he returned.      

     Jim watched as the prince walked back the way he came, only turning when a hand pressed against his shoulder. “What did you do?!”      

     A girl with long dark hair stared in awe at Jim, “I…I didn’t do anything. What do you mean?”     

     “What Nyota means,” another boy appeared, this one with short dark hair, bangs straight across his forehead, “is the prince has never shown interest in anyone. He is usually quite independent, only surrounding himself with the company of his Knights. He even refuses the help of the servants his father sends for him. But you have managed to not only hold his interest but also make him smile. I do not think there is anyone who can say they have ever accomplished such a feat.”     

     Jim looked to the dark haired boy and scoffed, “I'm sure it was nothing, Spock.”     

     “I am certain it was a little more then nothing,” Spock teased.     

     “What exactly are you implying?” Jim demanded, hands on his hips with a scowl.     

     Nyota danced around him, laughing as she sang, “Maybe the prince likes you!”      

     Jim paled and his eyes went wide, “I don’t think that’s it at all! He's a prince after all, he could never possibly fall for a servant! I knocked his crown off and he apologized for bumping into me, that’s all. It was a simple exchange.”     

     She stopped dancing and took one of Jim’s arms as she spoke with a theatrical sigh, “Look at you, only here but a week and already you are stealing the prince’s heart. All the princesses in all the territories will have your head on a stick, James Kirk.”     

     “I do believe Nyota is correct. It would appear that the only reason he decided to stay was so he could watch you for the rest of the evening.” Spock looked then to Nyota beside Jim, “I do not ever recall him staying at any of his Fathers parties much past nightfall. This is a first.”     

     “No,” Jim began, shaking his head, “you have got it all wrong!”     

     “Maybe…” Nyota teased, “Maybe not. I guess we will just have to wait and see.”     

     Before Jim could protest anything the two had scampered off into the thick crowd of people and out of his sight.      

     He turned slowly towards the table at which Leonard and his father sat. He watched as the prince returned to his place at the table and spoke quickly to his father before turning back to the crowd below him. Nyota and Spock were right, he was staring right at him, eyes not moving an inch. As their eyes met in an intense gaze Jim quickly tore himself away, a blush appearing rapidly on his cheeks. Could they really be right, he thought, could the prince actually have interest in a servant?

                                                  ~~~~~~~~~~~     

     As Leonard left the servant boy behind him in the crowd and made his way back to his place at the table, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts linger on Jim. There was something about him that captured him in ways that no one had ever managed to before, something he couldn’t quite understand just yet that sent a foreign feeling soaring through every inch of his body.      

     He sat himself back in his chair behind his father, who managed to tear his lips off the young girl in his arms long enough to ask, “You have returned? I thought you wished to retire for the night?”     

     Leonard quickly glanced to his father, then back to the crowd as he leaned casually back in his chair. His eyes locked with just exactly what he was looking for, and a small smirk spread across his lips as Jim immediately turned away, too shy to hold their gaze. Without removing his eyes from the servant boy he answered, “I was, but I decided to stay a while longer…there is something I wish to keep my eye on.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: if any of y’all would like to be added to the tag list for future updates please let me know!!! XD

[youre-on-a-starship]

Prompt:  "Kirk, Bones, or Scotty in an on and off relationship with their SO where for whatever reason they can't get it together. They've grown used to it but an external force (could be something major or just a new potential partner) is now threatening to change their status quo and a decision must be made. Will they finally decide to take the leap and create something solid or will they go their separate ways?” - Anon

Word Count:  2,318

Author’s Note:  I would pick Scotty, wouldn’t I? I’m really happy with how this story turned out, I really hope you like it, Anon!

“You’ve been avoiding looking at me all day,” you blurted when Scotty opened the doors to his quarters for you.

He just hung his head and stepped aside. You took one stride into the room so the door could close. The two of you stood in silence in the entryway.

“I can’t keep doing this, Scotty,” you said, letting your voice fall.

“I’s no’ fair o’ me to ask ye to,” he agreed.

A flare of rage bubbled through your chest. You bit back your initial answer. Sucking a deep breath through your nose, you prepared a more diplomatic response.

“I need you to talk to me,” you demanded. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his head furiously with one hand before retreating back into his quarters to brace himself against the back of the couch. “I saw you and Chekov today.”

You furrowed your brow and half followed him into the room before you realized what he was talking about.

“You mean you saw us dancing?” you clarified.

“Aye,” he breathed, turning back to you with red-rimmed eyes, leaning against the chair-back. Before you could respond, he continued. “I don’ blame ye. Really. He’s a good lad.”

“Alright, hang on-” You held up a hand but he kept talking.

“I mean, I know ye’ve been holding yerself back for my sake, and i’s really no fair o’ me to ask ye to keep that up-”

“Would you shut up for a second?” you snapped.

He clamped his jaw shut and gulped, watching you with wide, terrified eyes.

“Thank you,” you brought your voice back down. “I was teaching Pavel how to dance because he’s trying to get someone else’s attention. They like dancing. He doesn’t know how to dance. I’m teaching him.”

Scotty rubbed his lips together and looked at his feet.

“Wha’s to say that the person he’s after isna you?”

You barely heard him say it.

“Scotty…” you breathed. “It’s not me. I asked.”

His eyes shot back up to meet yours. You licked your lips and folded your arms tight over your chest.

“The whole crew is as unsure about this relationship as you seem to be. Do you know how many people have tried asking me out since we started… whatever this is?”

“Eight.”

“Ei- how did you…? Never mind, that’s not important. Eight people, Scotty. I’m assuming that if you know how many people have approached me, you know exactly what I’ve told each of them.”

“No,” he admitted knowingly, as he dropped his gaze to his socks again.

“I said ‘no,’” you reiterated before laughing mirthlessly. “I keep hoping that you’ll finally figure out where your head is at so we can get started with something real here.”

Scotty’s shoulders started shaking. Your heart sank when you realized that what you felt wasn’t exactly sympathy.

“I jus’... I’m so much older than you…”

You tried to stop the heavy sigh from escaping, but it overpowered you. You turned away from the Scot and ran your hands over your hair. Padding gently around the room, you let the sound of his staccato breathing dictate the ebb and flow of your thoughts.

“When,” you started, “are you going to realize that I… I love you for you.”

He stopped breathing all together. You half-turned back, your hands clasped firmly behind your neck, and saw that he was gaping at you.

“You… you love… me?” he asked quietly.

You pressed your lips together.

“Why?” he asked.

You dropped your hands and your gaze.

“I’m starting to ask myself the same question,” you admitted.

You looked back up when he made a small, strangled sound. His lips were closed but pulled tight across the plane of his face.

“Every time you so much as see me talk to someone younger than Doctor McCoy you get… like this. Paranoid. I don’t know if I can handle that.”

Scotty looked back at the ground and squeezed the edge of the couch in his hands, making his knuckles turn white.

“I can handle an age difference,” you went on. “I can’t handle not being trusted.”

“Bu’ I do trust you! With my life!”

“But you don’t!” You raised your hands out to your sides. “Scotty! If you don’t trust that I’m not going to leave you at the drop of a hat… how does that constitute any trust at all?”

Scotty’s jaw opened and closed several times before his lips sealed for good.

“I need a good reason to keep this up, Scotty,” you finally said, drawing yourself up to full height. “You’ve been skirting this for months. I need a commitment.”

Scotty’s mouth distorted and he looked back at his feet.

You stared at him for nearly five minutes before you finally relaxed your shoulders.

“Fine,” you whispered. “Fine.”

You turned for the door and left.

---

Scotty didn’t quite realize that the frequency with which he used to see you was dependent entirely upon the fact that you were dating. You walked out of his quarters nearly two weeks ago and he hadn’t seen you since.

Ashamed as he was of himself for doing so, he frequented all the places you used to meet up. He went to the mess at the same time every day. He made a point of wandering past Rec A around 9 each night. It seemed like every time he had the opportunity to go past the astrometrics lab, you weren’t visible from the doorway like you used to be.

He sat on the couch in his quarters tonight, like he had every night for the last thirteen days, with a tumbler very full of scotch in one hand and his head in the other.

Staring down at the backs of his hands, the deep blue veins becoming more apparent every day, Scotty knew the truth of the matter. He would have driven you away one way or another. That’s just how his mangled life had come to pass, for the most part. He’d doubted everything he’d ever done that wasn’t work related and all of those things fell through exactly as he’d always predicted.

Quite suddenly, as the thoughts started to pass through his head at a more and more alarming rate, Scotty flinched. He put his glass on the floor and got up off the couch.

He emerged into the hallway in his thermal shirt and work trousers and he beelined down to the far end of the deck. As he rounded the corner he collided chest first with you.

You stumbled back and looked at him. The sheen of oil on his forehead and the odd angle his hair stuck out at made it look like he hadn’t slept in days. You readjusted your hold on your bottle of scotch and watched as he gathered himself.

“Um, sorry,” you started.

“I need to say something,” he said with the most force behind his voice you’d heard in months. He took hold of your upper arms and searched your eyes with his.

“You’re the best thing tha’s ever happened to me,” he said. “I let that fall apart because I was scared. I can see myself getting older, but you didn’t care and I didn’t appreciate that. I just kept thinking about the future, not the present, and tha’s where I failed you.” He licked his lips. “I am so sorry. If you can find it in your heart to give me one more chance, I’m ready. I wan’tae be with you. I love you.”

You blinked at him and sucked in a breath through your nose.

“I see,” you said after a moment. You looked down at the scotch in your hand and then back up at Scotty. “I don’t know how to tell you this delicately, so I… I’m headed to a date. Actually.”

Scotty’s hands fell from your arms. His eyes bugged out like you’d just punched him in the stomach.

“Oh,” he said.

You pressed your lips together and watched as he straightened himself up and recollected his face into a coherent, if stiff semblance of normality.

“Don’t let me keep you,” he said. “I just… needed to get tha’ off my chest.”

You nodded lamely, pursing your lips before pulling them into a vague smile. You walked around him and kept going down the hall.

Scotty turned and watched as you disappeared around the bend in the hall, a bottle of his favourite scotch in your hand.

---

Three weeks later Scotty sat near one end of a long table in the mess hall. The enormous feast for the third anniversary of the Enterprise’s inaugural voyage was spread out along the length of the table.

Everyone was already elbow deep in the food, but Scotty just looked out of the corner of his eye at where you sat nine or ten seats down with Leonard’s hand in yours and an enormous smile on your face.

---

Just as easily as you’d disappeared in those first weeks, you reappeared everywhere that Scotty seemed to be. And always with Leonard McCoy.

One week you were curled up together on the couch in Rec C laughing at something he was reading you on his PADD.

Another week you walked out of sickbay blushing like a teenager with the neck of your uniform pulled up a little higher than usual.

The week after that, Scotty saw the you and the doctor hugging each other down a secluded corridor on the cargo deck. Leonard was swaying you back and forth and kissing the top of your head. The soft rhythm of the moment let Scotty know that nothing was wrong. You were dancing to the hum of the ship.

The Scot laid on his back in bed, counting the ceiling tiles for the umpteenth time that night. He turned his head to look at the clock. 0230.

He heaved himself up and swung his legs out of bed. He pulled a pair of pants on and stuffed his feet into his boots, leaving them untied. He tugged a thermal shirt over his head and walked out of the room.

His feet carried him through the cold and quiet halls. He didn’t realize where he was until he saw you curled up alone on the good couch in Rec A.

You looked up and over your shoulder at the sound.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hi,” he replied.

“You’re welcome to sit with me, if you want,” you said quietly, gesturing with your steaming teacup at the empty space on the couch.

Scotty didn’t say anything as he came and sat next to you, careful to leave as much room between you as he physically could, but you sat on half of two of the three cushions.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked, sipping at your tea.

“Nae,” he admitted. “You?”

You just shrugged, watching the stars go by outside.

“Not with McCoy tonight?” he ventured.

“Leonard and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

Scotty turned his head to look at you.

“Why not?” he asked.

You shrugged again, taking another sip of your tea.

“He’s got a teenage daughter. He’s got enough to deal with with her before bringing someone home who’s barely twice her age. And the pessimism is only so bearable on a good day,” your voice faded. “I’m starting to think that I’m just too young to be on this ship.”

“Don’t say tha’,” Scotty said, turning his whole body to face you. He tucked one leg up onto the couch for balance. “Don’t think tha’. You’re no’ the youngest person on this ship, and you deserve to be here just as much as anyone.”

“Yeah, but,” you whispered, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping an arm around them. “Five years is a long time, and age really seems to get people’s goats in this place.”

Scotty swallowed hard, considering his next words.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” he said.

You nodded and leaned your temple on your kneecaps so that you could look at him.

“I’m sorry, Scotty.”

“Why?” he whispered and leaned in a little, wishing he could gather the nerve to reach out and touch your arm.

You picked your head up and put your forehead on your knees so you didn’t have to keep looking at him.

“You don’t need to hear me whining about a failed relationship. It’s hardly fair.”

Scotty took a deep breath.

“I don’ mind,” he said. “I just… I just want you to be happy. And if your happiness is dependant on you whining about a breakup to me in the rec room at three in the morning, then I’m all ears.”

You snorted and Scotty smiled.

“I wish we’d worked out,” you said after a few long minutes of silence.

“We still could. If you want.”

You turned your head again to watch his face. It was tilted down to his lap but his eyes were on you.

“Can I trust you to trust me?”

Scotty nodded.

“I think… if there’s one thing I’ve observed is that you really don’t seem to mind older men.”

You grinned.

“I dare say I even like older men.”

“Can I ask why?”

“More interesting. More to talk about. Generally better looking.” You flashed him a toothy smile and he snorted, shaking his head before throwing his hands up.

“I’ll take it.”

You licked your lips and turned your face up to the ceiling.

“Does this mean… that you want to get back together?”

“Y/N, if you’ll have me.”

You reached out and he took your hand, pulling the knuckles up to his mouth. He didn’t kiss them, per se, he just laid his mouth on the soft peaks and inhaled the scent on the back of your hand for a long minute with his eyes closed, his soft breath misting over your skin.

[a-fluffer-nutter]

The Better Gift

A/N - It’s 6 am and I just wrote over 3000 words in less than two hours. I can’t feel my hands any more and I have class in a few hours. This is a Star Trek fic and I have been really excited to write it for a while now. I hope you all like it and I really hope you send me any comments, critiques, questions, what have you, to me. Happy Valentine’s Day everyone and I hope you guys had a fantastic day!

Word Count: 3,015

           “So, whatcha get me?” Jim Kirk coughed as he sat up on the biobed. He had been stuck in the med bay for the past week, thanks to a poor encounter with a few natives. An IV was embedded into his arm, clear liquid entering is bloodstream and his heart monitor staggered, though maintained rather constant as of the last few days. It had been off and on for a while, Jim fading in and out after surgery for a day, but has since recovered. All that was left, was for his broken right arm to heal and for his dehydration to finally go away.

           “What do you mean?” Bones looked up from his scientific journal, a recently published volume covering the inequalities of healthcare on certain planets, like Earth.

           “It’s Valentine’s Day,” Jim took a swig from his glass of water. “I’m sure you got me something. You had to of, or I would have to return your gift.”

           “You’ve been stuck in here for the past week and stuck on a random planet for the entire week before that. How the hell did you get me anything without me knowing it?”

           “Cause I’m the best!” Jim winked, putting down the glass with a wink. Jim and Bones celebrated Valentine’s Day every year since their Academy years. It started off small, a little card and a piece of candy taped to it, then escalated. Last year, they each got each other a bottle of bourbon and Jim was able to get a box of candy specially made from a store nearby his home in Georgia. Bones had made sure they had Jim’s favorite meal that night: steak, baked potato, sautéed mushrooms, corn on the cob. Valentine’s Day was just a thing they did, neither of them ever having anything else planned on the day anyway. Since Jim never wanted to commit to a girl and Bones loathed the day after breaking it off with his ex-wife, neither had any investments into the holiday until they started their gift giving tradition.

           “I wouldn’t call you the best,” Bones watched Jim’s eyes transition from bright and full of life, to a full-on glare. “Though, you are pretty damn close, kid.”

           “Well, you’re gonna think I’m the best when you see my gift!” Jim exclaimed as he outstretched his hands over his head, falling back onto the bed.

           “Doubt it,” Bones rolled his eyes, glancing back at the journal in front of him. He was halfway through it, having read others like it while watching over Jim over the past week, making sure he wouldn’t go under again. “Mine is definitely better.”

           “You did get me something!” Jim laughed, crossing his arms, happy with himself. “I was right!”

           “Of course, I got something, you bastard,” Bones couldn’t help but smile, thinking of his gift for Jim. He had very little time getting everything done in order to complete the gift, with Jim nearly dying on him again. Bones even went through a day where he just stared at the gift, not thinking Jim was going to ever live to see it even if it got completed. “We always get each other something. Besides, I had to get you something. I need a way to one up you, don’t I?”

           “Aw, you need to one up me,” Jim cooed, blue eyes glittering as he stared at the doctor from his bed. “So, you have finally realized I’m better than you.”

           “Not at all,” Bones rolled his eyes once again, overly amused by Jim’s antics. For the past few days, Bones was afraid he would never get to bicker with Jim ever again. “I am clearly the superior person.”

           “Clearly,” Jim let out a snort, sitting up again, his legs dangling from the bed. Bones turned fully around in his chair as Jim stood, one hand firmly on the IV stand.

           “Jesus, Jim, sit back down,” Bones said, getting out of his seat in an instant. Jim huffed, favoring his left leg as he stood. Bones quickly went over to Jim, trying to get him to get back in bed. “You’ll hurt yourself again.”

           “Bones,” Jim grabbed Bones’ wrists, holding them tightly in his hands. “Please. It’s Valentine’s Day. Let’s pretend everything is okay, just for a little while.”

           “I,” Bones’ voice lingered, his eyes dropping off to the side, “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. What if you fall or you have a reaction to air or something?”

           “Damn, Bones,” Jim laughed, punching the older man in the arm. “Who do you think I am? Some klutz or crazy sick person?”

           “Yes,” Bones replied with absolutely no hesitation.

           “You’re going to have to take that back, you know?” Jim tightened his grip on Bones’ wrists, Bones feeling all of Jim’s muscles tense, knowing something was about to happen.

           “What’s a half dead klutz gonna do to me?” Bones bit his lip, anticipating Jim’s response. He knew he pushed Jim past his little breaking point, and now, he was going to suffer the consequences.

           Bones was thrown to the bed, Jim surprisingly strong despite his healing arm and having recently gone through surgery. Jim pounced, straddling the doctor’s hips as he smiled down at his prey. Jim’s arm was crossed uncomfortably, his IV straining.

           “I think we should remove this for the time being,” Jim sneered, gesturing to his arm. “Don’t want it to get in the way as I absolutely destroy you.”

           Bones reached to remove the IV from Jim’s arms, his arms pressed down against his ribs as he did so. A few giggles slipped from his lips as he unhooked the IV, anticipating what was coming next. He removed the IV line before he was handed gauze.

           “Take it all out,” Jim smiled, handing Bones everything he needed to get the luer and the catheter out of his arm. Bones hesitated, glancing up at the final vital screening that was made before Jim unplugged everything. Aside from the lingering hint of dehydration and wounded arm, Jim was perfectly fine. Glancing back up at Jim, whose eyes silently pleaded for Bones to take it all out, Bones took the gauze from his hands and proceeded to take the rest of the medical equipment from his arm, despite knowing this was sending him closer to his impending doom.

           “There we go,” Bones taped the gauze around Jim’s arm, constraining the arm and preventing any more bleeding from the injection point. He set the catheter down on the metallic side table, it lingering in his hand for a long moment, Bones knowing this small device was the only thing that was saving him. The exact second the catheter landed on the side table, Jim struck.

           Bones knew he could overpower Jim and could have even before he struck. He could have easily knocked him back right after bandaging him up and made a run for it, but he didn’t. As Jim said, it was Valentine’s Day. Let them have some fun, especially after everything that had happened over the course of the last two weeks.

           Jim’s fingers wiggled around in Bones’ under arms, the latter’s head being thrown back into the recently fluffed pillow. Instinctually, Bones started to buck, trying to throw off the younger man without avail. His laughter was loud and contagious, Jim laughing right along with him as he switched to kneading at his hips. Bones let out a snort before slipping into hysteric giggles, a sound Jim absolutely adored.

           “You know what you have to do,” Jim teased, enjoying the kick of Bones’ legs every time squeezed a particularly sensitive spot on either side of his hips. Jim smiled as Bones threw his head back and forth, his hair becoming increasingly messy. “If you don’t say it, I guess I’ll have to go for the spot!”

           Bones’ hands swatted around, trying to knock away Jim’s devious fingers from his sensitive hips, though his arms stayed planted at his sides, preventing any more assaults to his ribs and under arms. This was the exact response Jim was hoping for. He quickly whipped around, pushing his body up enough so he could turn completely around. Jim was positioned so he was facing Bones’ legs, giving him access to the dreaded spot.

           “Any last words, Bones?” Jim cackled as he glanced over his shoulder, smiling at the other man. Bones shook his head furiously, not saying anything as he could just feeling Jim’s hands hovering above his knees.

           “Sick klutz,” Bones said firmly between strings of residual giggles, his eyes locked with Jim’s.

           “Wrong,” Jim grinned evilly as he turned away, his fingers finally making contact. He squeezed around Bones’ kneecap, feeling the doctor writhe beneath him as his laughter exploded behind Jim’s back. Jim’s fingers went to work, squeezing around the patella, scratching right above the knee, circling all around.

           “Jihihim!” Bones squealed, the sheets of the bed clenched tightly in his fists. “Stahahap!”

           “Go for the kill?” Jim stilled his fingers for a moment, making damn sure Bones heard him. His fingers slipped off his knees and flipped over, the palms facing the ceiling. “If you insist, Bones.”

           “JIHIHIM!” Bones screamed out through his laughter as Jim scribbled along the inside of his knees, by far his worst spot. Jim loved attacking this little spot, it practically paralyzed Bones and caused the greatest sound to come out of him. Bones’ laugh was loud and boisterous, instantly filling whatever room they were in. It spread joy and turned anyone’s day around for the better. Jim also knew that whenever he was able to get this laugh out of Bones, the doctor was wholeheartedly happy, and would remain this way for the rest of the day. It was very rare for Jim to be able to get this laugh out of Bones, but when he did, it was absolute magic.

           “You know what to say,” Jim teased, though he knew Bones probably couldn’t hear him or the very least, understand him. Jim knew that the teasing made it worse, which was a trait he shared. Either of the two teasing the other would make whoever was being tickled melt and completely lose their minds.

           “I TAHAKE IHIT BAHACK!” Bones finally let out, his laugh growing hoarse the longer this went on. Jim knew he wouldn’t be able to take very much more, so he pulled away. He scooted off Bones, sitting on the bed with his legs dangling above the floor. He smiled down at Bones as the man curled into himself. Jim knew Bones would get revenge near instantaneously, but he didn’t mind. He knew he deserved it and, frankly, Jim adored being tickled, especially by Bones. Jim loved to laugh and Bones could make him laugh better than anyone else in all the universes. Jim also loved the fact that Bones enjoyed tickling him too, that it was a fun form of punishment for either of them, especially at a time like this.

           “Have fun?” Jim asked, cheekily. Bones glared at him, trying to regain most of his usual strength. Jim knew he was probably going to die, but he was going to embrace it with open arms, literally. He held his arms up, hands intertwined behind his bed as he fell back onto the mattress, exposing his entire torso.

           “Roll over,” Bones breathed, a single finger twirling in a short circle. “I’m going to kill you and I’m not going to start slow.”

           Jim giggled in anticipation, his arms falling to his sides as he shifted himself over. The entire front of his body was pressed into the mattress, his head turned to the side. This was a normal position for him, especially when Bones wanted to really get him.

           He felt Bones shift on the bed, crawling over Jim. The weight of Bones’ body pressed on Jim’s lower back, Jim knowing it was too late to reconsider everything. Bones’ highly skilled fingers wiggled a few inches above Jim’s shoulder blades, their shadows dancing over the spot in a brief foreshadowing.

           “You’re dead, kid,” Bones let out a gruff laugh, quickly wiping away a bead of sweat from his temple.

           “Do your worst,” Jim taunted before all ten fingers dug into his scapulae. Jim shrieked and instantly fell into hysterics. His laughter was louder than Bones’, but was slightly higher pitched than his usual voice. Jim’s laughter was like music to all who heard it and was very relaxing to listen to. When Jim laughed, it was as if the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders.

           “Damn I missed this,” Bones remarked, his eyes closed as he practically absorbed Jim’s laughter. His finger skittered over one shoulder blade to the next, back and forth like to pacing creatures. “I can’t believe you are this ticklish, Jim. It’s ridiculous.”

           “SHUHUT UP!” Jim squealed as a hand quickly squeezed his neck, his second worst spot. Jim’s body swayed side to side, as if Bones was on a boat rocking in the rough waters of the stormy sea, though Bones had grown used to this and was able to hang on. He kept up his tickling for around ten minutes, the usual length he could usually tickle Jim for when he was targeting his worst spots. For the entire ten minutes, Bones teased the younger captain.

           “Why are you turning red, Jim? You have a fever or something?”

           “These spasms could be caused by a serious medical condition. Ya should probably consult your local doctor…wait, that’s me.”

           “Ya almost died on me last week. Ya better not die of laughter now, kid.”

           Once approximately ten minutes had past and Jim was covered in sweat and tears of mirth, Bones stopped his punishment and got up from the bed. He hovered above Jim as he recovered, residual laughter pouring out in steady streams.

           “You good?” Bones smirked down at Jim, his shadow casting over him. “I’m not really in the mood to perform CPR, ya know?”

           “I think I saw my life flash before my eyes,” Jim winked, flailing his arms in dramatic fashion, recoiling at the tinge of pain he felt in his healing arm. He let out a short laugh before glancing around, almost frantic. “What time is it?”

           “Eighteen hundred,” Bones glanced over at the clock near the entrance to the room. “Why? You leave the stove on or something?”

           “Not quite,” Jim hopped up from the bed, quickly grabbing Bones by the hand and guiding him out of the room. Jim nearly dragged Bones as they made their way to the bridge of the ship. It was empty and dark, sending chills down Bones’ spine.

           “What the hell?” Bones uttered as Jim guided him to the center of the room, before he plopped down into his captain’s chair. He quickly typed on the keypad on his armrest, darkening the room even more and bring the screen to life. It flickered briefly before connecting, a bright, young face filling the screen.

           “Daddy!” The young girl squealed as her eyes found Bones. Jim jumped from his chair, allowing Bones to take his place. Bones accepted, not looking away from the screen showing his beautiful daughter.

           “Joanna!” Bones exclaimed, the brightest smile shining. “Happy Valentine’s Day, darling.”

           “Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy!” Joanna exclaimed before reaching for something off screen. “Look at what I made you!”

           “It’s beautiful!” Bones laughed, seeing the pink heart valentine she clearly made with help. Jim smiled at the screen before slinking away, making his way for the door. “Hey, Jim.”

           “Yeah?” Jim turned around, seeing Bones had gotten up from the chair.

           “There’s a tablet in your room. Click the first video and thank me later,” Bones pat Jim on the back, tears in his eyes. “And thank you for this. Thank you so much.”

           “Any time Bones,” Jim hugged the older man. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

           “Happy Valentine’s Day,” Bones replied as Jim made his way to the door. “And Jim. To answer your question from earlier. Yes. I did enjoy it. More than I was expecting, to be honest.”

           Jim smiled to himself as he walked out from the bridge, making his way to his room. All the crew members he passed greeted him happily, wanting to stop and check on him, but he kept going, needing to get to his room. He knew he had to make an announcement later, telling everyone he was okay and ready to resume his position, but for now, he had only one thing on his mind.

           He walked through the door, room dark and cold. He curled around his bed, reaching for the tablet, a red bow taped to the screen. Tearing that off and tossing it onto the table, Jim took the tablet and fell back onto his bed, cold from the lack of use lately. Jim did as he was instructed, turning on the tablet and pressing the first video which appeared in the upper left hand corner of the tiny screen.

           The silence of his room was pierced by the sound of his entire crew greeting him, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Captain!”

           Jim felt tears well up in his eyes as the video switched to small interviews of each crew member, each saying how much Jim meant to them and how they needed him. As the video progressed, Jim’s sobs grew louder. The video concluded with Bones.

           “You better pull through kid, or I’m gonna kick God’s ass and bring you back myself. Anyway, we need you, Jim. We all need, especially me. I don’t know what I’d do without, honestly. Actually, the first thing I would do is get the fuck off this ship. But seriously, we all love Jim. I hope you know that. Happy Valentine’s Day, Jim and may we celebrate so many more.”

           Both Jim and Bones sat in their respected rooms, crying silently to themselves. Both sat in complete darkness, tears slipping down their cheeks as they silently thanked the other, thinking that they had both just received the best gift ever.

[samingtonwilson]

Loot - Part 10 - Jim Kirk

loot masterlist Word count: 2,693 Warnings: language, angst

A/N: wow the final chapter, y’all. the epilogue won’t be up for a few days. i love this story. there are parts that i didn’t like and was frustrated with but, over all, i love it. this part was hard for me to write but i love everything about it. i made sure to make it as real as i could in terms of conversational patterns and the whole thing about what the artifact actually is, is something i was plannin since the beginning, im just not sure how well i executed it. ANYWAYS, ENJOY N LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! thanks for reading :))

The Enterprise wasn’t built for interrogations. There wasn’t a room devoted to them, no group of officers were on board especially to carry them out. The purpose of the Enterprise, of every officer aboard the Enterprise, was to explore, develop and maintain peaceful diplomatic relationships amongst Federation planets, to understand space at a level never attempted before. So the lack of specifically designed rooms, specifically trained officers wasn’t a lack usually glaring. It just was now.

The cell was a bright white. Brighter than the white of the medbay, somehow, and more harsh. It stung to stare at the walls for too long and it didn’t help that each of the said walls, the ceiling, and the floor panels were lined with blinding tube bulbs in an alternating pattern of one bulb, then two. One of the walls, though, was made of glass and divided the cell from the vast, security officer manned brig.

You sat on the rightmost bench. Your right leg was pulled onto the shiny white surface that matched the walls, your knee at your chest. You curled your fingers over the edge of the bench, drumming the tips of your growing nails so clicks rang through the silent cell. You stared at Jim.

Jim didn’t look at you. His eyes remained on the bulbs behind you, the glaring tubes reflected in his blue irises. His jaw was clenched and his arms were crossed over his chest. He stood, in his Captain Mode fashion, beside the leftmost bench. His chest was puffed out, presumably with every malice-filled word he wanted to scream your way.

Perhaps that was the reason for Spock’s presence— to ask the questions in a partial, objective way that didn’t even verge on inadmissible. He wasn’t frowning, he wasn’t smiling. His pale, smooth skin sat in perfect stillness as he looked directly at you. His almost midnight black eyes held a motionless gaze you would have squirmed under had this been any other circumstance.

You were surprised there were still questions to be asked. It wasn’t the job of Commander Spock to decide your punishment, it was his job to understand if any damage had come to the artifact. Seeing as the hunk of metal was fully intact without even a small scratch beyond the rust you found it with, his job could’ve been completed by a pair of fully functioning eyes and a magnifying glass.

Yet, before you, the half-Vulcan and his captain sat and stood respectively. Meanwhile the artifact was placed in the archives of the Enterprise, its radioactive threat neutralized by Scotty just a few moments after he found it in the depths of your closet.

You would have held some resentment, but you should’ve known better than to keep it anywhere near your former quarters— especially while aware that Scotty was still obsessed with his now-closed investigation and wanted to pick up where he left off. While you’d thought that meant on the other side of the floor, you should have assumed he meant the entirety of Excited Ensign Village. It was an absent-minded mistake on your part— Scotty was only doing what anyone else would have done.

A little over a day had passed between your arrest and interrogation, and it was the first time you’d seen Jim in that twenty-eight hour span. He’d sent Spock and two security officers to execute your arrest only three hours after leaving you at your door totally dumbfounded with a confession you were sure had become obsolete. You knew there was no way he could claim to love you anymore— he couldn’t even spare you a glance.

You were tracing the slope of his nose when there was a knock at the glass to your left. You tore your eyes away and stared at the form on the other side as he splayed his fingers and created a small, round opening.

McCoy was scowling as he did so— and not in the endearing way you were accustomed to. He was scowling as if his worst expectations had come to fruition— as if he could brag that he’d told everyone so, he just didn’t want to as the victory of his worst suspicions felt like a loss.

Nonetheless, you felt a corner of your lips pull up and you opened your mouth to speak, cut off by an annoyingly calm voice. “Doctor, I do not believe a medical examination is necessary after only twenty-four hours.”

“S’not an exam, Spock,” he gruffly answered. The sound of his voice forced your teeth into your bottom lip.

He looked at you then— no anger fogged his hazel irises, no hatred creased his forehead. He only looked disappointed and saddened.

The flipping of your stomach in reaction was somehow worse than what hatred and anger would have caused.

He held his arm through the circular opening and motioned for you to grab a tiny paper cup and a larger water cup from his fingers. “It’s your sodium tablet and iron supplement. Take ‘em with the water.”

You took both cups. “Bones, —”

“I’m not doin’ you any favors,” he clarified— though you weren’t sure to whom. He glanced at Jim who continued to stare at the wall. “I’m your doctor, the ship’s CMO— gotta to make sure you don’t pass out or croak before you’re put on trial.”

“Thank you anyway. And not just for the supplements.”

He nodded once and took the now-empty cups from you, he instantly crumpled them. He looked at Jim once more, then at you. He couldn’t hide his sigh of discontent and his shaking head. “Told you to be careful—”

“That’s enough, Bones,” Jim stated sternly. It was the first you’d heard of his voice in hours and it was just as cross as you expected.

McCoy didn’t argue. He simply nodded and stepped away from the glass, his retreating figure vanishing with pieces of your ability to maintain the facade of strength.

“(Y/N), approximately when did you notice an increase in the artifact’s volatility?”

You looked at Spock. He’d picked an opportune time to begin interrogations again. You sniffled a little and needed to clear your throat. “Few weeks ago.”

“Does this ‘few weeks ago’ coincide with the venturing of the Enterprise through a particularly magnetic nebula?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“In order to decrease the effects of the artifact’s radioactivity, did you attempt to damage or destroy the artifact in any way?”

You sighed heavily and dropped your head back against the wall. You stared at the ceiling a moment before looking at Jim again.

Spock began to repeat himself, “(Y/N), in order to decrease the—”

“Don’t tell me you’re too emotionally compromised to ask the questions yourself.”

Jim shifted on his feet. He looked at the glass now.

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You met Spock’s gaze and his eyebrows were still level. “You can look at the damn artifact and see that it’s unharmed— hell, have Scotty look at it if you can’t trust your eyes.”

You swallowed over the tightness in your throat. You set your foot on the ground and placed your hands in your lap. “If I refuse to comply with you, do I get a new interrogator?”

“Yes, regulations state that—”

“I’ll handle it from here, Commander,” Jim said. He glanced at you but it appeared to be a mistake with how quickly he looked away— you were glad his gaze didn’t linger, though.

“Captain, I feel your emotional state—”

“You have the conn, Mr. Spock,” Jim asserted in a louder voice. It echoed through the cell. “Relieve Mr. Sulu, have him set course to Teenax. Ask Lieutenant Uhura to contact the Fibonan Republic to inform them that the Abronath has been found.”

Spock stood up, clasped his hands together behind his back and nodded once. His blue shirt was as smooth as his skin despite the hours he’d spent sitting down. “Yes, Captain.”

Jim watched as Spock left the cell and followed him until he entered the turbolift to the bridge.

You pulled your left leg onto the bench this time. You drew random invisible patterns with your fingernail against your black trousers. You didn’t look at Jim.

He was looking at you. He sat upon the bench that jutted from the left wall. His jaw was still clenched, his legs forming ninety degree angles as he set his elbows atop his knees. He stared at the floor.

You took a breath— in through the nose, out through the mouth. While you thought doing so could increase your resolve, each breath from Jim did the exact opposite. His inhales tightened your throat and his exhales drained your lungs. It was as if you’d lost a bit of strength due to McCoy’s departure and Jim’s presence did away with the rest of it.

“Is that what it’s called? The Abronath? That’s fancy for something that’s such a fucking nuisance.”

He didn’t answer.

“If you’re doing this to prove that you aren’t too emotionally compromised to ask—”

“I don’t have anything to ask. You stole the artifact— plain and simple.”

“Jim, —”

“You had the artifact on this ship— plain and simple. You lied about ever seeing it, ever keeping it. You interfered with Federation affairs, you feigned innocence for weeks, you didn’t think once about the consequences— plain and simple.”

You knew he was shouting, you knew his words were meant to be venom, yet you couldn’t help but only feel relief. Relief that he had words to speak, relief that he was speaking at all.

But his words seemed to have run out.

You both sat in an overwhelming, almost deafening silence— you were afraid your blinks would resonate in each corner of the cell.

“I think a part of me knew you were lying,” he finally said in a gentler voice, cutting through the thick silence. His fingertips pressed his eyebrows when he placed his head in his hands, his eyes closed.

You stayed quiet. You watched as the air from the vents caused strands of his blonde hair to flutter ever so slightly.

“In the beginning, at least,” he continued, his voice a bit muffled by his hands. “It bit at me and I smothered it to death. I let myself trust you.” He laughed ruefully then. “I made myself trust you. Against my better judgement.”

“Jim, —”

“You couldn’t even be bothered to extend me the same courtesy.” He lifted his head from his hands. When his eyes met yours, you dropped your gaze right away. “I spent myself trusting you and you didn’t think to tell me the truth.”

Your breath hitched.

Even as he sat in your scissor-like presence, even as he sat in his anger, broken, he remained soft. Every part of him remained soft.

He shook his head to himself. “I didn’t know what to do when Scotty came to me. I didn’t know if I should go against my training, against everything I’m supposed to stand for, for you.”

The back of his head hit the wall behind him, his eyes on the lights of the ceiling. “I thought of getting input— so I wouldn’t have to make this decision alone. But the first and last person that came to mind was you.”

You swallowed once more. Your voice was nearly inaudible as you asked, “So what’d you do?”

He shrugged just one shoulder. “I knew what I was supposed to do— without input. I just didn’t want to.”

“I think you did the right thing.”

He blinked several times as his gaze left the ceiling. His lips, void of expression at an almost Spock-like level, formed a straight line. “You do,” he wasn’t asking.

You nodded. “Yeah, I do. You’re too good of a captain not to do the right thing.”

He offered you the smallest of smiles and you returned it easily.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you said after a few moments. “I know you trusted me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve— I could’ve done something.” There was an edge of desperation to his voice that forced you to look away again.

“You couldn’t have done anything, Jim. I wouldn’t want you to do anything.”

“But, (Y/N), —”

“It was my burden, my problem.” You placed your feet on the ground and let your legs shake a little, doing away with some of your itchy anxious energy.

He opened his mouth to speak again, so you just increased your volume, “It’s just me and I’m getting what I deserve.”

He placed his elbows on his knees again. He rubbed his fingers against his jaw. He sighed audibly and heavily. “I’m still so mad at you.”

“I—”

“You lied to me without a second thought, you messed with Federation business without a second thought. For what? You risked peace between two planets, even your own damn future for nothing.”

You knew you could’ve corrected him. You could’ve told him why you took the artifact, why you held onto it at all costs— that a man, unnamed and utterly terrifying by the sound of his voice, sat on an unknown planet with strange coordinates awaiting the artifact with likely your life as insurance.

But you deserved Jim’s anger and didn’t have the right to correct him— you knew that.

You simply nodded in response.

“Maybe you were right to end this weeks ago.”

Your questioning hum was at a much higher pitch than you intended, but your throat was too tight to create a pitch indicative of indifference.

“You warned me that this wouldn’t work and I should’ve—” he stopped himself and sighed out shakily. He rubbed his fingers against his lips. “The ship would’ve docked, you would’ve been gone, and everything would’ve gone back to normal—  just like you said.”

You winced quietly.

“Is anything about you true? The things about your mother, your aunt, your father—”

“All of that was real, Jim.” Your eyebrows were together and you looked at him incredulously— as if you could blame him for doubting you. “Everything I told you, everything about me— it was all real.”

“How can I believe that?” he nearly yelled. “Why should I believe that?”

“Because you know me!” you shouted back. “Because you know all of that was real. You wouldn’t have fallen in love with me if you didn’t see truth.”

“Call it a lapse in judgement, then.”

Your lungs were drained again. Drops of saltwater freed themselves from your lash line and fell to your cheeks before you could wipe them away, hide yourself away.

You looked down at your feet that had gone pigeon-toed, chewing on the inside of your cheek for a moment.

You wiped your cheeks with the heels of your hands and met his gaze once your skin was dry. “I guess prison is going to lead to a sharp end to it this time. An arrest this serious is probably a deal breaker.”

“Dishonesty this serious is a more severe deal breaker.”

You nodded. “When does the ship dock?”

“Not for a few weeks.”

You nodded once more.

“The admiralty has asked you be sent to Earth by runabout with a team of security officers as soon as we can assure satisfactory condition of the artifact.” He rose from the bench, dusting the lap of his trousers to rid himself of nonexistent dust. He rubbed two fingers under his nose and sniffled. “Now that that’s done, I can go. The security officers will arrive soon.”

He nodded once and moved quickly to the door.

You cleared your throat, unable to let him leave just yet. “You know, the burns, Jim? They came from the artifact— be careful when you handle it.”

He had a small smile stretching his lips when he looked over his shoulder. “You forgot to swipe its case, sticky fingers. Makes it easier to hold onto.”

“I’ll call you from my jail cell.”

He laughed through his nose. “I’ll have Uhura block the number.”

“Careful, you might break my heart.”

“I’ll just be following the trend you started,” and the door slid shut behind him.

tagged: @outside-the-government @daughterofthebrowncoats @multifandom-slytherin @buckyy3s @cinema212 @caaptain @dani-fae @wonders-of-the-enterprise @imaginesofdreams @the-witching-hours12-3 @kaitymccoy123 @anyakinamidala @vevsee