#i NEED to get back into high school chorus for my fucking mental health. miss that shit so bad.

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

thinking about singing in a choir/group in comparison to singing solo/accompanied by music and just thinking abt how comparatively different that is. an orchestral backup to a solo song is nice- and takes a lot of dedication to perfect, certainly- but you will always be missing the synergy that comes with singing with other people. the synchronous intake of breath, the way vocal harmonies hum through the air in a way humans were biologically designed to pay keen attention to. the control and perfection of sound with your body instead of just your hands and limbs, and the perpetual awareness that you're operating in sync with a handful or tens or even a large group of people.

anyways. thinking abt how wigfrid's 'spellbinding' singing voice absolutely did NOT come out of the blue. thinking about how she probably started singing alongside some sort of group before moving to actressing and spending the rest of her career and the rest of her life before the constant singing and being completely alone.

[funknrolll]

Celebrating Lizzo, the epitome of self-love, self-acceptance and inclusivity: a lesson we all needed to learn

Melissa Viviane Jefferson better known as Lizzo has come a long way to get where she is right now. One of the most influential and renowned artists on the music scene. The pop star is standing out for her empowering lyrics, her meaningful message of self-love, self-acceptance, self-worth, and inclusivity.

The artist born in Detroit in 1988, soon fell in love with music. Indeed, as early as third grade she started forming girl groups and writing songs with her friends. Then at the age of 10, she moved to Houston, Texas, and joined her school’s marching band as the first flutist. At first, the artist self-taught how to play the flute, and then during high school, she learned the technique and eventually got private lessons. This was when her passion for the instrument started and it’s going on still today. In fact, it is not a mystery that the flute is still so much present in Lizzo’s music and live performances to the point that the artist named it after Beyonce’s alter ego, Sasha the Flute (the instrument has also an Instagram account @sashabefluting). The pop star kept studying music during her college years, attending the University of Houston. Eventually, she dropped out to move to Minneapolis where she joined the all-female R&B groups The Chalice and GRRRL PRTY. During those years she met the music legend himself Prince and became one of his protegès. Eventually, Lizzo and her Chalice bandmate Sophia Eris collaborated with the Purple One on the song Boy Trouble on his 2014 album Plectrumelectrum.

Now Lizzo appears to be one of the most confident and self-aware artists. However, all this confidence was not something that she achieved overnight. It took her time and effort to get where she is now. In fact, in her interview with CBS Sunday the artist recalls “I take self-love very seriously because when I was younger, I wanted to change everything about myself. I didn’t love who I was.” … “I was insecure about me… I was insecure about my body, I was insecure about my hair, my smile, I was insecure about my personality ‘cause I was so different I was so nerdy kinda dorky, I was insecure about the way I talked, I was insecure about my voice, everything”. Eventually, the artist managed to push through all her insecurities and became the powerful, confident artist we all know and love. However, this transition was not easy to achieve. Indeed, as the artist said in an interview for CBS Sunday Morning: “You can’t scrape away the trauma, that trauma can’t disappear, you just have to go back to that trauma and just try to make a sense out of it… I had to address every layer of insecurity… I body-shamed myself every single day” … “when I’m looking at my body and shaming every little thing about it I have to look at all those things that I’m shaming and I have to find love in those things”. Indeed, it is not a mystery that the artist has always spoken out about this relevant topic. As a matter of fact, her performances, her music, and even her Instagram page are a celebration of self-love. In fact, as the artist said during an interview for the magazine Essence: ”I love creating shapes with my body, and I love normalizing the dimples in my butt or the lumps in my thighs or my back fat or my stretch marks.“. 

Moreover, Lizzo had everyone’s eyes on her during her performance at the VMAs 2019. The pop star gave indeed, one of the most empowering performances backed up by an all-female and all-sizes dancing crew behind her. With that performance, the artist was delivering a message of self-acceptance, self-worth, and inclusivity, especially for the most marginalized groups of women in the USA. The next day the artist shared some thoughts on her performance on her Instagram page, pointing out that every woman on that stage had her story of why they did not believe they belonged in the spotlight. “Every woman on that stage had a story of either why they shouldn’t have been on that stage or why they didn’t believe they deserved to be on that stage, including myself. “Imposter syndrome” is a privilege to the most marginalized group in America. Not only were we taught to believe we didn’t belong in the spotlight, but when we finally get to a place to self-worth the world tries to knock us down. Not this time. The world smiled with us. The world sang us. The world saw our beauty last night. The world saw black women feeling Good As Hell and cheered us on.”.

Moreover, Lizzo has always taken her music very seriously. Her first solo album Lizzobangers dropped in 2013, followed by Big GRRRL Small World in 2015 and Coconut Oil, her Atlantic Records debut EP, in 2016. Coconut Oil even climbed onto the Billboard Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums chart. However, her latest album Cuz I love You brought her to fame. Not only are the sounds and the arrangements extremely original, but most importantly the message of self-love, self-acceptance, equality, feminism, positivity she is putting out through her music is so inspiring, motivating, and life-changing.

As a matter of fact, in songs like the hit Juice, the artist is encouraging her listener to “shine and live a better and happier life”. Additionally, in many other songs, the positive message is still much present. For instance, in Like a Girl the artist is encouraging her audiences to emancipate themselves, to fight for themselves, to be strong, and to be self-made. Exactly how I feel is characterized by a quite straightforward lyric and meaning: to stay true to ourselves and to be real. Indeed, quoting some lines “Love me or hate me/ I ain’t changing/ and I don’t give a fuck. Subsequently, Soulmate is practically a love letter the artist wrote to remind herself that to be loved and to change the world there is need to start loving herself first and that as the artist sings “figured out I gotta be my own type” and be aware of her self-worth. All the songs the artist has written are an emotional journey through her memories, life, and feelings. Indeed, as Lizzo said herself “My songs feel happy, but they come from a sad or frustrated place”… “My songs are always the silver lining or the ‘somewhere over the rainbow’ moments”. Songs such as Truth Hurts and Crybaby were indeed written and recorded through tears. As the artist recounters in the interview with the magazine Elle “Those songs are actual anecdotes, like real stories about real moments in time. ‘Pull this car over, babe’—that is something that happened to me. ‘New man on the Minnesota Vikings’—that happened to me. ‘Old me used to love a Gemini’—that happened!”.

The artist has also been extremely open about mental well-being on her Instagram account. Indeed, last June in one of her posts, she wrote: “I’m depressed and there’s no one I can talk to because there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Life hurts”. Then her fans showered her with comments thanking her for speaking out and for being completely open and honest about this delicate issue. The artist then shared some thoughts on this topic saying “You realize that people truly care about you and they’ll help you, and they don’t mind helping you”… “Being in those places is inevitable for me; I’m going to end up there again” then she adds “But the fact that I’m prepared now to go to those places—and I have a toolbox, and I know I can pull myself out—is really helpful to me in my mental health journey.”.

Also  during her live performances, the artist is delivering a powerful and empowering message to her audiences. Indeed, during one of her concerts in Glastonbury, she encouraged her fans to love themselves because “we can save the world if we save ourselves first… and we can all change the world”. In another concert, the artist explained the powerful purpose of her music and performances: “I do this because I love to make people smile, I love to make people feel better… I wanna make the world a better place”.

And this is not over, because, in February the artist entered the 62nd annual Grammy Awards with 8 well-deserved nominations. She opened the event with a powerful and poignant tribute to Kobe Bryant who passed away in a helicopter crash. The artist stepped on stage in a black sparkling ball gown and surrounded by a full orchestra she performed a mind-blowing, majestic medley starting with her latest album’s title track Cuz I Love You. The next song in line was Truth Hurts and Lizzo’s long time companion Sasha the Flute could not miss. What a dynamic duo!! The artist flexed some of her impressive flute skills before the last chorus.  Eventually, Lizzo won  (well deservedly I would say) three awards, including best pop solo performance for Truth Hurts, best urban contemporary album for Cuz I Love You (Deluxe) and best traditional R&B performance for Jerome. During the acceptance speech for pop solo performance, the singer honored one more time Kobe Bryant.  ”I want to say this whole week I was lost in my problems and then in an instant, all that can go away and your priorities really shift. Today all my little problems I thought were as big as the world was gone. I realized people are hurting right now,“ Lizzo said. Then she thanked the artists for ”making music that moves people again, that liberates people,“ "you guys create beautiful music. Thank you for lifting me up. Let’s continue to reach out, hold each other down, lift each other up”.

The artist was then honored with the Entertainer Of the Year at the 2020 NAACP Image Awards and she enchanted the audience with another heartwarming and powerful speech: “ I want to shout out to all the big black girls that I bring on stage with me. I do that because I want them to know that they are the trophies” … “Every last one of you, you are the award! We are so special!! We are such a beautiful people, this is just a reminder of all the beautiful things that we can do”.

During these months, Lizzo did not forget to spread good energy and positivity leading a group meditation to promote healing. The artist turned her Instagram into a meditation sanctuary where she encouraged her fans to find some peace and calm during the pandemic. The video featured Lizzo playing her flute while seating in front of a collection of crystals and burning sage. The artist then graced us with some uplifting words “I wanted to empower everybody, I wanted you guys to know that we have power, you have power. You have the power to eliminate fear.” … “I wanted to take the time today to do a mass meditation, 30 minutes of your time, and if you can’t stay the whole time that’s fine. But we’re gonna come together and we’re gonna take deep breaths and we’re gonna join in agreement and we’re going to try to eliminate the fear as much as we can” … “ We really need to listen to each other, we really need to feel each other out, we really need to be there to help each other, we can’t be afraid of each other”.

Speaking of the pandemic, we also saw Lizzo taking part in Lady Gaga’s One World: Together at home concert. The artist delivered a heartfelt, powerful, and personal rendition of Sam Cooke’s A Change is Gonna Come. She could not have chosen for a more appropriate song for the times we are living in the middle of the pandemic. After finishing the performance the artist enchanting us with some words of hope and love “Thank you to everyone working hard to keep us safe, thank you to everyone staying home and keeping themselves safe, I love you. We got this. We’ll get through this together. “

The cherry on the top of the pie, the singer keeps being a fierce queen supporting not only mental health but also advocating self-love and body positivity, encouraging her fans to practice self-care and love. Even today on her birthday, she asked us as a present, to write under her last Instagram picture some nice comments about ourselves and eventually she reminded us to “shake that ass”. A real queen and role model for everyone ❤️ wishing queen Lizzo a beautiful and happy birthday, I will go and practice some self love and shake my ass, just as she taught us!! All hail to the queen✨

Don’t forget to show Lizzo some love today✨

Thank you for your attention. G✨

[abthepoet]

All my friends are dead.

Something strange is trending in my life.

All my friends die.

At the beginning of my sophmore year in college, my roommate from freshman year died tragically in a single vehicle car crash. Her name was Allison Lynam. We called her Blake. She was sassy and funny and I wish I would've taken more time to know her.

The rain was torrential the night she died. I swear I've never seen it rain that hard ever again in my life. She drove to the store along Highway 36 in Long Branch,NJ. She had off campus housing that year and had to use the highway often. The road was terribly flooded the night she died. Im told she hydroplaned, spun, and T-boned the driver side smack into an electrical pole. Her family still decorates it.

At that very same moment, in my dorm room nearby, I was watching TV when the lights suddenly flickered and dimmed. A brown out.

I had no idea but that was my friend crashing into a pole and dying. She was 19 years old.

I know this because that accident happened near the mall. That accident killed the power to nearby businesses.

I later found out that the road she died on was so badly flooded, the police intended to close it. Why they didnt get to it in time, I'll never know. Maybe that's fate.

Then there was Jessica Blain. Jessica Blain was a firecracker of a human being. She was 100% unmistakable. One of the loudest, funniest, most loyal people and friends I have ever met. She was also an incredibly gifted singer and I was lucky enough to have Chorus with her. We, along with a small group of friends, founded a new greek organization on our campus, Alpha Xi Delta. We were paired up as Twins. (you can't have Bigs & Littles when you're just starting the Family Tree). We named the family we formed Fuck Up Your Shit. Because that's what we'd do for a friend. I miss her laugh most of all. It was loud and unapologetic. She was there for me, supportive, and encouraging without me ever having to ask. The night I officially finished college we all went out to the local gay club, The Colosseum. I got wasted, of course. But Jess was the person who when I shouted 'I have to pee' on the ride home, she stopped and knocked on strangers doors and asked to let me use their bathrooms. Nobody said yes so she held my hand while I peed on a fence instead. I remember the last time we spoke. She was at a concert with a mutual friend. We hadn't spoken much since I graduated, she was still in school.

She died in her dorm room bed on Halloween as a result of asphyxiation during an epileptic seizure. She was 20 years old. The news was broken to me that very same Halloween night as I floated along in NY on a concert cruise. The World/Inferno Friendship Society decided to host Hallowmas, their annual event, on a boat this year. Nothing like being trapped on a musical boat while you grieve. I had messaged her AIM late that night to say hi. She had an away message up. I may have sent a message to a dead person. I miss her friendship more than I realize sometimes.

That brings us to James Padden. James was a warm, snuggly bear of a guy who always tried to do the right thing and let me steal his hoodies. He insantly became my best friend in a Stepbrothers-esque manner. I met James working overnights at Wawa in Leonardo, NJ. I forget how it started now, but we were standing in front of the deli and I think I tossed him a broom or he already had one. . . I cant remember now.. . . but he just took one look at me with that mischievous little twinkle that I quickly returned and we instantly began sword fighting with our brooms. Like two little boys playing pretend and having a ball. He was sweet and silly and kind. I needed a ride, and he loved to drive. Our first winter as friends, we went out doing donuts in the snow. I barely knew him, but I felt safe. We smoked a ton of weed and had so many adventures trying to procure more. One time, we got so high driving to a Dropkick Murphys concert in NY we kept going in circles, missed almost the entire show save for the last 3-5 numbers, and had a blast. I can barely remember the night, but I remember laughing hard in that car. No one could talk to me like James. We were both insecure being chubby kids and adults, but so charismatic and grandiose that I sometimes thought we were the only two who would put up with listening to each others wild ideas and ridiculous banter. We would smoke joints and take adderall and talk about everything and anything. I miss the safety and closeness I felt with him. We were always 100% platonic, but we could nap together, I could walk into his house and jump on him in bed and wake him up. Then we would cook ourselves a breakfast feast and hit the beach. He taught me to always take the back roads. I gave him advice on the ladies. He taught me about fixing cars. I helped shave his back. He called his new pick up truck, a pick'um up truck. We could wax philosophical all damn day and not get sick of each other.

It wasnt just driving he loved, it was going fast. Like so many young white men, he had tendency to be a little reckless. The universe gave him a pass only so many times.

I'll never forget when he got his motorcycle. It was the last time I saw him. It was a bright green crotch rocket. He loved lime green. I was doing yoga in the living room when I heard this obnoxious engine rev down my street. I asked myself, who the hell is making this noise?! And it was James, grinning from ear to ear with a matching helmet on his shiny new toy.

before he left I said, 'you die on that thing, I'll bring you back to life and kill you." I remember giving him this very long and intentional hug and not knowing why I felt compelled to hang on.

When he left and hopped back on the bike, I felt compelled again and took a video of him riding away from my driveway until he was entirely out of sight.

That's my very last memory of him alive. James Padden died on Thanksgiving five days after his 25th birthday. He went out for a joyride on his bike before dinner, opened up to 100mph around a curve where he couldn't see a car pulling out around the bend in time. They called a medevac, but he died on scene. I loved James dearly and I regret drifting apart after we both left Wawa and I started a new relationship. He had stuff too, but in hindsight it never seems important.

Then there's JB. I will always remember JB for his kindness and generosity. The very first time I finally worked up the nerve to go to a poetry slam, I was alone and terrified. I had no idea what to expect. JB was the very first person to turn around, introduce himself, and welcome me. He made me feel like I belonged. Years later, when I won the title of Grand Slam Champion, he immediately offered to help coach me for national competition. Except, I didn't see the messages and left them unanswered, which I deeply regret. When I started hosting my own open mic a few years after that, JB would be one of the only people to consistently come support the show both as an audience member and participant. It was at a pizza joint and he would sometimes buy me food when I had no money. He wrote beautiful poems about his two young daughters and how much they inspired him. JB always tried to make people laugh but you could tell he carried a sadness. I did not get details, but from what I have gathered he made a choice to end his life. I wish I would have gotten closer to him and appreciated him more as a friend and person. I wonder if he felt no one cared about him and I feel like I should've let him know more.

Which brings us to Crys. Crystopher Anthony Diaz was a Scorpio with a big heart and a big personality. I met him on Myspace back in the day and started Web camming. We became friends and eventually fell into this gray area of friends, together, but not. It wasn't long before I was spending days at his place, killing hours at a time downloading music, making Wawa runs, and smoking weed with his roommate at the time, Syd. You know, the whole reason I worked at Wawa was Crys suggesting it. And Wawa is the reason I met James. Crys was unlike anyone I'd ever met. He was poetic and artistic and loved animals, especially pit bulls. He loved to draw and write and had this very out loud style that favored Earth tones. He taught me about fashion and insisted on getting dressed even if it was 1am and we were just going to Wawa because you never know who you might see. We would buy new clothes at Walmart and have photo shoots. That boy drank his weight in coffee daily. If it's one thing I'll always remember him for, it's the dancing. Dancing was a passion of his and always used to talk about wanting to form a dance crew. Eventually, we ended up living together for four years. My first apartment was with him in this piece of shit duplex rented to us by a slumlord in Keansburg,NJ. My relationship with him was always defined by our Aries/Scorpio dynamic and he never let me forget it. His birthday was October 30th, mischief night. One time, after we had moved into a new place, we decided to get revenge on our old downstairs neighbor by taking a finished lobster carcass and throwing it on his lawn. . . . . . . Keansburg had a terrible stray cat problem. 😁

I have so many memories with Crystopher. Unfortunately, towards the end of our relationship things became too tumultuous. We had too much unresolved baggage and trauma to find a healthy place emotionally together. We were so financially strained for a time we hardly ate. And then when he met his new girlfriend Laura, she introduced him to her good friend, Roxy. As in Roxcicet. aka Blues. Neither of us knew what that even was at the time. But he sure learned quick. He started using them pretty frequently as time went on, and things only got more complicated. My mental health took a nose dive. By the time I moved out our relationship was trash. I basically left. At the time, I didnt have a choice. things had gotten so bad between us, the money, the using . . . we didn't act like friends anymore.

I saw him a couple times at his new place but that was years ago. Since then, he went through a lot, including homelessness and more struggles with addiction to opiates. He reached out to me and sent me a message apologizing for everything a couple years back. I never responded. I was afraid I would let him back into my life and let the all the problems back in. I didnt trust where he was at in his life. We lost touch and stopped speaking.

His ex, who used to live with us and became my friend, messaged me and told me he died a few days ago. He was 35. I'm still waiting for information, but it may have been drug related. I'm not even sure where I'm at with how I feel. I know why we stopped talking. It was the right thing to do at the time. But he didnt deserve to die so young, having spent the last god knows how many months homeless. It's fucking with me so hard because we never resolved anything. I loved this person so fucking much and we never made peace. Of everyone I've lost, he was the closest to me. I've had a lot of people die on me but none that I lived with and shared a life with. I have more memories with him than I can handle and while I know we hadn't spoken in years and why, I still wish I would've said something. Done something. Yes, i needed healthy boundaries but he needed somebody. when is being firm too firm? If we would've helped, could it have been different? But we didn't want to help at the time, you try to be tough and draw a line. Be firm. Not let yourself be taken advantage of. But is that a defense? Did that defensiveness leave a human being who's head i used to scratch until he fell asleep out in the cold to get sicker and die?

What am I supposed to learn from all this Universe? Why do you take my friends so young and so tragically? I'm only 35, I'm too young to have this much loss.

Because these are just the major players I've lost. It doesnt include my cousin Jared, who died being reckless on a motorcycle at 21 two years ago. I was 15 when he was born. I loved that baby, he used to bite my nose. But his family lived far, so I rarely saw him growing up. Last time I saw him was at my grandfather's funeral. He didn't remember me and the nose biting.

And then there's Marcos who we used to chill with. He worked delivery for our favorite chinese food place. He was a nice kid who lived with his grandparents. We would get food, smoke weed, hang out a little. Even used to buy it off him for a while. Eventually he got into the opiates too, he even wound up being good friends with Crys and being Blue buddies. But eventually Marcos died from an opiate overdose. He was in his mid twenties.

I didnt want to include Ricky because he was more of an acquaintance for me, he was more my partners childhood friend. But god damn, in the time I knew Ricky that kid was a riot. He was loud and funny and definitely marched to the beat of his own drum. Drugs took him too.

Thanks for reading all this if you've made it this far. It's taken me about two hours to type this out on my phone. but i needed to. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk

[fireinmywoods]

fic: palimpsest [2/8]

“Skip to the point, Jim. The sooner you spit it out, the sooner I can refuse and get back to work.”

“It’s really no big deal,” Jim says as the door slides closed behind them. “I just need you to come down to Hearth with us…as my husband.”

The Enterprise has been sent to negotiate reaccession to the Federation with an isolationist religious group known as the Kindred. While there, Jim notices that some of the children seem to be gravely ill. The problem is, the Kindred practice faith healing and refuse to allow a doctor to be brought in. So Jim does what he does best: he improvises.

CHAPTER 2: In which we meet the Kindred, Leonard is thoroughly creeped out, and Jim rewrites history. PG-13/Teen for Bones’s potty mouth and references to past trauma/mental health struggles. ~7,200 words. [Chapter 1]

Jim is fidgety as their guides escort them from the beam-down point to the Kindred’s audience hall. He keeps playing with his too-big ring, toying with it, spinning it around his finger, and just generally making it painfully obvious that he only slapped it on for the first time today.

“Quit fiddling with the damn thing,” Leonard hisses at him. “It’s bad enough you’re dragging me into this nonsense. Least you could do is try to act natural.”

“It feels weird,” Jim says under his breath, childish as ever, but he does leave off messing with the ring, at least.

Sulu laughs. “I’ll bet it does. Never thought I’d see anyone make an honest man of you, Captain.”

“Who, me? Never,” Jim says, all gleaming bravado and a sideways grin.

Leonard rolls his eyes.

Up ahead of them on the path, one of their guides glances back over her shoulder with a furrowed brow, probably wondering what all the chatter is about. Leonard can’t stop himself from tensing up under the sudden scrutiny – so much for acting natural – but before he can get too anxious about it, Jim leans over and presses his smiling lips to Leonard’s cheek, just grazing the side of his mouth.

Leonard freezes, his heart tripping over itself in his chest. Did Jim just – is he actually – ?

Jim pulls away, and somehow that drives the sensation home, like Blumberg’s sign, a kind of rebound tenderness. That really happened. Jim really just kissed him, right here in front of the guide and Sulu and Aaronson and God and everybody.

The guide tuts and turns back around, evidently satisfied.

“Aww,” Sulu says, very quietly.

“With all due respect, sir,” Aaronson pipes up, “you two are adorable.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Jim says cheerfully. Leonard doesn’t have to look at him to know exactly the infuriating smirk he’s wearing now.

+

The audience hall is large and austere, dimly lit by a handful of wall-mounted torches to supplement the fading sunlight coming in from the high windows. The thirteen members of the Kindred’s High Council sit in hard-backed chairs behind a plain, curved wooden table, all of them wearing shapeless gray robes and impassive expressions – just about what Leonard would expect from folks who voluntarily abstain from every small pleasure that makes life worth living.

The woman seated at the center of the table – the Penitent Mother, Leonard assumes – is especially severe-looking, with a thin angular face and silver-streaked black hair yanked back into a tight knot at her neck. She observes their party with sharp eyes, lingering for a few seconds on Leonard before turning her attention to Jim.

“Well met, Brother James,” she says. “Are we to understand that this man is the husband you spoke of?”

“Well met, Mother,” Jim says in a rare tone of deference. He raises his and Leonard’s clasped hands. “And yes. Allow me to introduce my husband, Leonard.”

The words sound strange as hell coming out of his mouth. Leonard can’t even remember the last time Jim called him by his real name, to say nothing of the other part.

“Well met in the grace of the gods’ glorious mercy,” the Councilors chorus in unison, staring so intently at Leonard that he breaks out in goosebumps. Jesus H. Christ. He’s faced down disciplinary tribunals less intimidating than these stone-faced kooks.

He feels a light tap-tap against the back of his hand, a silent prompt from Jim. “Uh,” he blurts out, caught off guard, and dies a little on the inside as Jim’s fingers twitch in an otherwise expertly concealed spasm of laughter. He is going to strangle Jim with his bare fucking hands when this is all over – assuming that whatever hellish alien plague they’re chasing doesn’t get him first. “Well met. It’s, uh…it’s an honor to meet you all.”

The thirteen Councilors keep staring at him. Waiting.

“…thank you,” he adds lamely.

Dammit, he’s a doctor, not an orator. Big flowery speeches are Jim’s thing; Leonard’s just responsible for dealing with whatever ass-kicking he might collect afterward.

The Mother seems to sense as much, as she directs her next words back to Jim. “Your husband does not share your loquacious nature, Brother James.”

“No, Mother,” Jim agrees. “He’s out of practice, I’m afraid. It’s a full-time job just listening to me, as I’m sure you can imagine. Poor Leonard only manages to get a word in every other day or so.”

One of the younger-looking Councilors actually cracks her expressionless mask to smile a little – the first hapless victim of Jim’s charm offensive, though undoubtedly not the last. He’ll get them all in the end; Leonard would stake a month’s water credits on it.

Well, maybe all except the Mother, who’s pursing her lips in a way that could just as easily be annoyed as amused. “And how long have you and your laconic spouse been married?” she inquires.

Leonard tenses up again – damn it all, why didn’t they think to talk this through ahead of time? – but Jim doesn’t miss a beat. “More than ten years now, Mother. Leonard and I met on our very first day at the Academy – that’s the training school for Starfleet recruits. Actually, we met on our way there, on the shuttle. It was…well, I wouldn’t call it love at first sight, exactly, but I can tell you Leonard made quite the first impression on me. All over me, in fact.” He leans forward slightly, like he’s sharing a secret, and confides in a low voice, “My husband here gets very airsick.”

Leonard’s face flames red-hot with embarrassment. He grips Jim’s hand so hard he can almost hear their bones creaking, trying to convey just how much trouble he’s in, and Jim has the unmitigated gall to squeeze back – and then, to really rub salt in the wound, he lifts their joined hands and drops an exaggeratedly apologetic kiss on Leonard’s knuckles.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, not sounding it in the least. “But you wouldn’t have me lie to these fine people, would you?”

Strangling is too good for him, Leonard decides. No, he’ll stick him in medbay to cool his heels for a spell, infect him with Findolessian pox and strap him to the bed so he can’t scratch at the welts, order his staff to feed him nothing but beets and chopped liver and that Plufeen pudding he hates, and after a few days of that maybe he’ll bring him back to Iqqar and see how he fares with another round in the Screaming Forest.

He does have to admit the joke’s landed well, even if it is at his expense. Jim was obviously aiming to lighten the mood, and he’s succeeded, as several of the Councilors are now trying not to laugh, coughing or stroking their beards in order to disguise their impious smiles.

Beside him, Leonard can hear Aaronson tittering too. He’ll kill her first, he tells himself: Aaronson, then the rest of the crew from before, then Jim. Jim he’ll save for last.

“In the interest of fairness,” Jim continues with a smile of his own, buoyed by the positive feedback, “let me assure you that my dear husband has put up with much worse from me over the years. And besides, he was an utter gentleman about the whole thing. Got me new boots and everything.” He pauses to wait out another sprinkling of poorly concealed laughter. “Now, I’ll grant you, this wasn’t quite the fairytale romance I’d imagined, but even with that…ah, inauspicious introduction, it was clear to me from the start that this Leonard McCoy was someone truly special. Smart, dependable, hard-working, honorable, faithful, compassionate – a man anyone would be proud to call their husband.” He lowers his voice again. “Your clan is fortunate to boast of so many good, honest sons and brothers, but between you and me, back on Earth they’re rather thin on the ground.”

“Small wonder, in that wasteland of iniquity and temptation,” one of the Councilors sniffs. “With such constant enticement to sin, the gods’ children are too easily led astray into wickedness and depravity. When one lies down with the dogs, does one not rise with fleas?”

Jim nods in solemn agreement, looking for all the world like butter wouldn’t melt in that mouth. “Too true, Sister. Which is why I knew I couldn’t let Leonard get away. I was sure from that very first day that I’d found the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.” He pulls a wry, self-deprecating face. “Of course, I did need to convince him of that.”

There’s more scattered laughter. Even the Mother looks like she might be thawing some. The poor suckers never stood a chance, really: Jim’s a fearsomely slick liar when he puts his mind to it, and he’s playing these unworldly rubes like a fiddle, slowly but surely selling them on the Trojan horse that’s turned up at their doorstep. The character he’s crafted is perfectly calibrated to slip past their defenses, bold but respectful, self-impressed but well-intentioned – the kind of man who wears his flaws on his sleeve, secure in the knowledge that they only add to his appeal. A bit of a rascal, sure, but a harmless one, so transparently warm and good-natured that even the sternest Councilors seem inclined to forgive him his excesses. They’d never tolerate a man like him within their own ranks, but he makes for an entertaining visitor, someone they can feel both amused by and superior to. By the time Jim’s done with them, they’ll have happily carted that horse right on inside the city walls, patting themselves on the back for it the whole while.

Jim has his reasons for this deception, and fine upstanding reasons they are. He is a good man, after all, in all the ways that really matter. He’s a better man than the Kindred could even begin to comprehend, cloistered and dogmatic as they are – but harmless? Oh, no. Not even close.

“And so,” Jim goes on, “I began my campaign. Fortunately, Leonard and I had a few classes together that first semester, and somehow we always wound up sitting next to each other. Very mysterious.” That gets him another laugh, naturally. “He also turned out to be very much a creature of habit, so it didn’t take long to figure out when he normally went to the dining hall – and wouldn’t you know, those were just the times I found myself getting hungry. I don’t think the poor man got to enjoy half a dozen meals in peace that whole semester.” He glances over at Leonard with another shamelessly unapologetic smile. “Now, every once in a while he wouldn’t show, but I quickly learned that just meant he was so hard at work that he couldn’t be bothered to eat. And I couldn’t just let him go hungry, could I? So, as a caring friend, I had no choice but to get food for both of us and track him down wherever he was holed up so we could eat together. And then there were the completely accidental times I just happened to run into him outside his dorm…or at the gym…or in the library… I tell you, the coincidences really started stacking up.”

Another ripple of laughter from the Council. They’re not even trying to hide it now.

“I think you’re all starting to get the picture – which puts you well ahead of Leonard, bless him. I couldn’t have been less subtle in my intentions if I’d carved a marriage proposal into a brick and thrown it at his head, but as time went on it became clear that I was pursuing either the cruelest or the most outstandingly clueless man in the universe. As smart as he was, he just did not seem to register my increasingly embarrassing attempts at courtship.” Jim sighs theatrically. “Well, we must all have some small flaws to keep us humble, and apparently this was Leonard’s. Fortunately for both of us, mine is a tendency toward…oh, let’s call it persistence.” He offers another wry smile as the Councilors laugh. “So I just kept carving out a place for myself in his life like we’d both agreed to it, and figured that eventually he’d either send me packing or get on board.”

That’s…not actually too far off from the truth, though Jim’s wisely edited out all the boozing, brawling, and other less than wholesome activities he dragged Leonard into that first year. He really did stick to Leonard like a burr from the beginning, always there no matter which way Leonard turned. He’d even pop up at the hospital sometimes, sneaking or charming his way past the front desk staff to pester Leonard on his breaks (and, yes, occasionally to force food on him). Leonard couldn’t seem to shake him. Not that he ever tried all too hard. He never really minded Jim’s company, even when he was at his most bothersome. He just couldn’t figure out what his game was – what some smooth-talking pretty boy prodigy could possibly want from a grouchy old cuss like him.

It took Leonard a while to see through the smoke and mirrors, to see how goddamn lonely the kid was. Sure, he’d talk up a storm to anyone who’d listen, and lord knows he joked and flirted and played around with plenty of fresh-faced young things who fell under his spell, but he never let a single one of them within striking distance of a real human connection. He was hiding in plain sight, all that big talk and attitude projected around him like a damn deflector shield. Everyone at the Academy would’ve said they knew Jim Kirk – the Kelvin baby, the loudmouth, the troublemaker, the one to beat – but nobody had any idea who he really was.

Nobody except Leonard.

It wasn’t that Jim let down his defenses around him, so much as he occasionally offered a glimpse past them. It would be years before Leonard figured him out entirely, but it was enough, at first, to realize that there was more to this cagey, arrogant kid than met the eye, that he was both less and more than he pretended to be – and that, for some mysterious reason, he’d chosen to cast his lot with Leonard.

What that reason was, Leonard still doesn’t know. Maybe Jim only had one last shot at vulnerability left in him, and he decided to gamble it on the first person he came across. Maybe he thought that two barely functional human disasters might balance each other out. Maybe he sniffed out the yawning void of Leonard’s own isolation, the cold gnawing heartache of having no one left to nag at and fuss over and give a shit about.

Hell, maybe he just figured that with his knack for finding trouble, it’d be handy to get in with a doctor, even one as washed up and prickly as Leonard.

Leonard doesn’t know the real reason, even all these years later. He has no doubt Jim would tell him if he asked now, but the truth is he doesn’t much care. What does it matter? By the time he finally worked out what Jim was playing at, he liked the crazy son of a bitch too much not to keep him around, and that was pretty much that.

Leonard has completely zoned out of what’s going on around him, lost in his thoughts, but when he surfaces, no one seems to have noticed. All eyes are on Jim, who’s still chattering away, building on the bones of the story he’s constructed: a squeaky-clean, charmingly clumsy little romance between a high-spirited motormouth and a reserved, somewhat oblivious loner. He’s rambling now, blabbing on about all kinds of random shit, only some of which has any basis in reality – a lecture he convinced Leonard to attend with him, some unnecessarily complicated maneuvering he orchestrated to get them assigned to the same project group in ethics class, an awkward conversation about future plans that Leonard’s positive he pulled straight out of his ass. Leonard has always thought it was the mark of a bad liar, getting caught up on the details like this, but the Councilors are just about hanging off Jim’s every word, clearly swallowing the whole tale hook, line, and sinker. A couple of them have even leaned forward in their seats, like kids spellbound by some action-packed holovid.

In a place as dull as Hearth, Leonard supposes you’ve got to take your entertainment where you can find it.

Frankly, he’s feeling a touch spellbound himself. There’s something strangely compelling about hearing Jim spin this grand story, weaving in just enough truth that it feels real, feels right, even to Leonard, who knows perfectly well things didn’t happen the way Jim’s claiming. He nearly finds himself nodding along at some points, mindlessly agreeing to a version of his own life that seems to make just as much sense as the one he got.

“So the end of the semester rolls around, and I am drowning in work,” Jim says, in a tone that suggests he’s building to an important plot point, though Leonard can’t imagine what it might be. “I’ve got a million papers and presentations and class debates and exams, and I need to just put my head down and get through it, so I set up camp in an out-of-the-way corner of the library and pretty much just stayed there. I’d leave once or twice a day to go to class, pick up something to eat on my way back, maybe stop by the dorms for a quick shower, and then it was back to work. I barely had time to breathe, much less chase after Leonard…but for once, I didn’t need to.” He flashes Leonard a smug smile and gives his hand a conspicuous squeeze. “A couple days in, Mister Aloof over here tracked me down to my little work nest, and once he found me, he kept coming by to check on me. Two, three, four times a day he’d show up – because, you know, he just happened to be passing by. Of course.” The sly arch of his eyebrow makes it clear what he thinks of that excuse. “And, hey, since he was already there, why didn’t we go grab something to eat? No? Well, in that case he’d forgotten he had some protein bars in his bag. And it was awful late, didn’t I think it’d be a good idea to get a few hours of sleep? He could walk me to my dorm – he was heading that direction anyway.” He shakes his head. “I guess by that point I was such a mess he thought I needed an escort.”

“You were,” Leonard interjects unprompted, because this part’s true enough. “You looked like you had one foot in the grave.” Jim had been running himself ragged from the day they arrived at the Academy – taking too many classes, fighting tooth-and-nail to stay at the top of the heap in all of them, desperate to prove himself to Pike and their professors and everyone who called him George Kirk’s son like he wasn’t his own damn person – and it all built to a frenzied crescendo at the end of the semester. Eventually Leonard would come to realize it was just Jim’s way, that he never found something worth doing that wasn’t worth wildly overdoing, but at the time, he was honestly concerned the kid’s heart might give out from the stress.

Jim shoots him a look of fond exasperation. “You see how he is?” he asks the Councilors, and they laugh right on cue. “I mean, I should have been thrilled, right? Here he was seeking me out for a change. Any other time I’d have done any old thing he suggested, but I really didn’t have the time. Besides, if I’d left with him, even just to go eat, who knew whether I’d have had the willpower to drag myself back to work. So I’d say no, no, I’m fine, and he’d shrug and leave me be, and a while later he’d be back and we’d go through the whole scene again.” He tsks and adds with a warm twist of irony, “Honestly, the man just wouldn’t leave me alone.”

More laughter. Jim’s got them all now, every last one, just as Leonard predicted.

“Well, finally, after a couple days of this, he gave up on arguing with me and decided that if I wasn’t going to leave, he wasn’t either. It was the sensible thing to do, you understand. After all, someone had to keep an eye on me to make sure I didn’t just drop dead in the middle of cramming for exams, and who better than a – a friend? So he brought everything he was working on, and his own blankets, and plenty of food for the both of us, and we both spent the next week slaving away in our little nest.” He waves off the croon rising from the Council table. “Let me tell you, it was awful. I was awful. I was practically speaking in tongues by the end, I was so out of it, and I’m sure I looked like something the cat dragged in. Probably smelled like it, too. But Leonard stayed with me the whole time. Even at my worst, he stayed right by my side.” He pauses, giving the payoff time to settle as the Councilors smile and sigh. When he speaks again, his voice has gone soft and nostalgic, almost wistful: “That’s when I knew he loved me back.”

Leonard glances sideways at him, surprised by both the words and his tone, but Jim doesn’t look his way this time. He’s gazing down at the flagstones with dreamy, unfocused eyes, seemingly lost in thought. His face is deceptively open and earnest, the very image of a man in love, and something goes painfully tight in Leonard’s chest.

It’s not true, he knows it’s not true, that’s not how it happened – or it is how it happened, but it’s not what it meant. He did join Jim in his library hideout for the last few days of the semester, but it wasn’t some big romantic gesture like Jim’s making it out to be. He cared about the kid, that was all, and he was starting to figure out that Jim desperately needed looking after but didn’t know how to ask for it, didn’t even really know exactly what it was he’d be asking for, so it would be up to Leonard to bring this half-feral stray in from the cold and try his hand at housebreaking him.

Leonard did grow to love him eventually, of course he did – because Jim turned out to be the best thing that could’ve ever happened to him, because he was brilliant and daring and loyal and crazy as a bessie bug, because he brought hope and curiosity and purpose back into Leonard’s life. In time he came to love Jim unconditionally, enough to sneak him onto the Enterprise and follow him out into the black and break his oath for him and get talked into all kinds of stupid shit like throwing on a wedding ring to put one over on a bunch of religious bumpkins – but all that came much later. Back at the end of their first semester, the two of them were still nothing more than a couple of fuck-ups with conveniently compatible baggage, just beginning to test the waters of real friendship. They certainly weren’t anywhere close to the kind of love Jim’s suggesting.

Leonard knows it’s not true, but, God, there’s something so yearning in Jim’s expression that he suddenly finds himself wishing it were. He wishes he could go back in time and rewrite their story, blot out everything hard and messy and ugly and weave what’s left into Jim’s pretty lie, give them both the nice tidy happily-after-ever this tale’s obviously building toward. It makes so much sense the way Jim tells it, makes even Leonard believe that it could have, should have happened like that.

But, no, he’s being foolish, wishing for the impossible in more ways than one. Even if they had gotten together back then, how would that have played out, realistically? The two of them wouldn’t have stood a snowball’s chance in hell at making it work in the long run, at finding their way to that fairytale happy ending. Try as he might, Leonard can’t imagine there’s any conceivable way they’d still be standing here together all these years later, happily married and stronger than ever. Far more likely that they’d have crashed during takeoff, and been damn lucky if they didn’t destroy each other in the process.

Brilliant and daring and loyal as he may have been, Jim Kirk at twenty-two was also a goddamn grab bag of unresolved trauma, suspicious and closed off, brimming over with self-hatred and survivor’s guilt. Pike’s challenge had given him a future to chase after, but his past was never far behind him in those days, and the looming threat of it made him volatile, determined to drink and fuck and fight his demons into submission whenever they started nipping at his heels.

That’s not to say that Leonard was any better. His daddy’s blood on his hands, losing the baby, Jocelyn leaving him, the suffocating depression that had tanked his prospects at the hospital – it had all left him a shell of himself, beaten down and resentful. Where Jim chose to run from his pain, Leonard wallowed bitterly in his, endlessly ruminating on all the myriad ways life had fucked him over. He was as much of a mess as Jim was, in his own way, jaded and self-pitying where Jim was defensive and distrustful. Neither of them were in any kind of shape to be taking a shot at romance at that point in their lives, and with each other? Jesus, it would’ve been a recipe for disaster. Odds are they would have gone down in flames, and Leonard would have lost Jim forever, long before he ever even really knew him.

Nothing would have been worth that. Nothing. Not even the prettiest little fairytale Jim can spin up.

Beside him, Jim shakes his head, visibly collecting himself, and looks back up at the Council table with a rueful smile. “I’m sorry,” he says, as though most of the Councilors aren’t beaming at him, looking practically as gooey and starry-eyed as he does. “I haven’t told this story in quite a while, and to be honest, I’m a bit of a sap at the best of times.” He dabs carefully at the corner of his eye with a fingertip – hell, is he actually getting weepy? He’s really going for it here. “Well, the jig was pretty much up at that point, and needless to say, things went a lot smoother after that. We courted through the next semester and got married at the end of the year, right after exams were over. It was a small wedding, just us and the preacher, along with a handful of friends who hadn’t left for home yet.”

“Your families did not attend?” asks a white-bearded Councilor, sounding troubled. “Were they not involved in your courtship and betrothal?”

“Neither of us had much family left, Uncle,” Jim says, to a round of pitying tuts. “So we started our own.”

The Council murmurs in approval.

“You are happy together,” the Mother says. Her expression and tone have both warmed considerably since their arrival.

“Yes, Mother.” Jim trails his thumb down Leonard’s, a deliberate little motion calculated to draw attention. “We are.”

As one, the Council turns its gaze to Leonard, thirteen pairs of eyes boring into him expectantly. Christ. He doesn’t care if they’re smiling now; that’s still creepy as hell.

“Yeah,” he says. It comes out hoarse, rough in a way that feels dangerous, and he clears his throat. “Yeah, of course. I mean, I…I married my best friend. Couldn’t be happier.”

The Mother’s thin lips slant upward. “As it should be.”

She starts to say something else, but Leonard’s distracted by Jim, who’s right on top of him all of a sudden, closing what little distance there was between them. Jim’s fingertips are delicate points of pressure on his jaw, urging him to turn his head, and he obeys unthinkingly, only to see Jim looking at him with a silent question in his eyes. Leonard doesn’t even know what his answer is, exactly, but Jim must see that it’s not no, because the next second he’s tilting his face at just the right angle and kissing him full on the mouth.

The kiss is a fleeting thing, as quick and dry and innocent as can be, but damned if it doesn’t rattle through Leonard like an earthquake, shivering through his joints, shifting the ground beneath his feet. For the space of an instant, he forgets about the Kindred and Sulu and Aaronson and the sick kids and everything else, all of that eclipsed by Jim:

Jim’s hand on his jaw, holding him in place.

The ticklish brush of Jim’s hair grazing his forehead.

Jim’s thumb sweeping across his cheek in a tender, absentminded caress.

The plush warmth of Jim’s mouth against his, soft and chaste, but teasing at more, so much more, anything he wants if he could just bring himself to ask for it, to take it –

Jim looks him in the eye as he draws back, gazing up from under those long lashes, and if the kiss was a tease, that look is an unequivocal promise. He strokes over Leonard’s cheek one last time, presses the pad of his thumb to the corner of Leonard’s lips, and then lets his hand fall away, his own lips tugging up on one side.

Leonard stares at him, speechless, breathless, a hot flush creeping down the back of his neck. It occurs to him, in the one staticky corner of his brain not knocked completely offline by what just happened, that he hopes Jim doesn’t realize the effect he’s had. Getting all worked up over a little church kiss like that – lord, the kid would never let him live it down.

But he can’t seem to pull himself together, not with Jim giving him that sweet, lopsided smile, as if they’re the only ones in the room, as if this were a real moment between them. Jim’s eyes are still fixed on his, and they’re so dark in this light, a deep velvety blue, like the last trace of daylight in the late evening sky. He’s just got the prettiest goddamn eyes.

Then he winks one of those pretty eyes, a tiny flicker of humor even Sulu and Aaronson probably don’t catch, and the tension breaks, the strange tightness in Leonard’s chest easing up all at once, unraveling into much more manageable threads of fondness and annoyance and maybe just a little bit of grudging amusement.

Well, hell, he thinks philosophically – if he absolutely had to be married to some troublemaking jackass, he supposes he could do worse than this troublemaking jackass.

He about jumps out of his skin a second later at the sound of a loud, meaningful cough from the Council table. Christ, they’re still stood right in the middle of the audience hall, completely on display for the Councilors, who are sitting there behind their table watching the pair of them with soppily indulgent smiles. Of course they are, that’s the point of all this – to prove themselves to the Kindred, to paint a convincing portrait of an inoffensive, traditional-enough marriage so these backwater hicks will accept Leonard’s presence and he can get to work hunting down this sickness Jim’s so worried about. This is all part of Jim’s Trojan horse strategy: the story, the hand-holding, the moon-eyed expressions, everything. It’s all make-believe, the shiny façade of a relationship that’s never actually existed. Leonard has got to remember that, for the sake of his own sanity.

Shit, whatever silver-tongued sorcery Jim’s been working here, it’s potent as hell. Even Leonard’s forgotten there are people in the damn horse.

“My apologies, Mother,” Jim says as he turns back to face the Council, sounding slightly abashed.

“Nonsense,” the Mother says sternly, with more vigor than Leonard has heard from her yet. “Does my daughter seek forgiveness for stoking the kitchen fire? Does the farmer repent of weeding and watering their crops? The gods bid us to cherish and honor our spouses, Brother James, for the untended garden falls to disorder and neglect, while that which is carefully nurtured will flourish and thrive.” The other Councilors are nodding along, heads bobbing in unnerving unison. This is obviously a well-rehearsed lecture. “Marriage is the foundation upon which the family home is built – it must be maintained lest the whole structure fall to ruin. Perhaps elsewhere in your Federation, a faithful and affectionate union may be cause for ridicule or contempt, but I assure you that we Kindred abide by the age-old teachings which exhort us to devote ourselves to our this-worldly families with the same fidelity as we show to the gods themselves.” She eyeballs them with a discomfiting blend of censure and approval. “It is encouraging to be reminded that even on Earth, with all its distractions and temptations, there are yet some who walk a righteous path. Your commitment to one another is to be commended. You must take care not to allow wicked influences to corrupt that which should be held most sacred.”

“Indeed, Mother,” Jim says, bowing his head. “Forgive me if I seemed cavalier. Rest assured that Leonard and I both value the strength and sanctity of our marriage above all else.”

Leonard is still trying to wrap his head around half of what the Mother was going on about – honestly, Jim gives him grief for mixing metaphors? – but he nods too, trying his best to mimic Jim’s expression of humbled deference.

The Mother considers them both for a long moment. “What of children?”

“None yet, Mother,” Jim says, with a quick squeeze of Leonard’s hand, knowing as he does how that question, and his answer, twang painfully deep down in Leonard’s chest, the ghost of old heartbreak still rattling its chains in the catacombs of a former life. “But we have plans, naturally. After the end of this mission, when we can settle down and provide a safe and stable home for them.”

This excuse seems to satisfy the Councilors, including the Mother, who rewards the two of them with another faint thin-lipped smile. “May the gods grant you that which you desire in the fullness of time,” she proclaims, in the manner of a woman who’s used to making such demands, and who fully expects to be heeded. She looks up toward the windows and the darkening sky outside. “On the subject of time, it seems the hour has already grown late. We will begin negotiations in the morning.” She turns back to Jim. “You are invited to join us in the congregation hall for the evening meal. We have also prepared sleeping quarters for you, though perhaps you would prefer to return to your more…luxurious accommodations aboard your vessel.” There’s more than a hint of challenge in her voice, and Leonard knows even before Jim says anything that they’re going to be stuck down here in this spartan hellhole for as long as the mission takes.

Jim bows his head again. “We are honored to accept your hospitality, Mother.”

The Mother purses her lips again. It’s a positive sign this time, Leonard thinks. “Very well. If you would be so kind as to wait outside, we will conclude the day’s business and join you shortly to escort you to the congregation hall.”

+

“Laying it on pretty thick back there, don’t you think, Captain?” Sulu says as soon as the heavy wooden doors have groaned shut, leaving the four of them standing alone outside the audience hall in the rapidly falling dusk.

Jim scoffs. “Says from the guy who met his husband by literally swooning into his arms like the damsel out of some old romance novel.”

“Man, I told you, it was heatstroke,” Sulu says. “It’s not like I planned it.”

“Uh huh.” Jim claps Sulu on the shoulder. “I’m just saying, let’s not go casting stones, Brother Hikaru. That house of yours is looking pretty fragile.”

Sulu shakes off Jim’s hand with a roll of his eyes and turns a commiserating look on Leonard. “I swear you’ve got the patience of a saint, Doc. I would’ve throttled him about thirty seconds in. I don’t know how you put up with it.”

Leonard stomps down an irrational flare of defensiveness on Jim’s behalf. What the hell’s gotten into him today? Jim and Sulu have always had a brotherly, trash-talking relationship off the bridge; it’s never bothered him before. “Sedatives help,” he says shortly.

“Not here, they don’t,” Jim says. “No hypos allowed, remember? You’re stuck with me just the way I am, hubby.”

Leonard grimaces, tugging his hand free of Jim’s for the first time in what must be over an hour now. He’s practically lost feeling in his fingertips at this point. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, sorry,” Jim says. “What would you prefer? Pookie? Snookums? Buttercup?”

“None of the above.”

“Pumpkin? Baby cakes? Muffin? Honey buns?”

“No.”

“Now I’m hungry,” Aaronson sighs.

“Loverboy? Sweet cheeks? Come on, give me something to work with here.”

“How about ‘Leonard,’” Leonard says. “Seeing as how it’s my name.”

“Suit yourself, Leonard,” Jim replies. Somehow he manages to make it sound completely ridiculous, more absurd and ill-fitting than any of the options that came before it.

“Thank you,” Leonard says flatly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. What he actually wants is for Jim to cut the shit and just call him Bones, the way he always has, but he will be goddamned if he admits that out loud, especially in front of Aaronson and Sulu.

“Yeah, this is officially my favorite mission ever,” Sulu says. “I take it back, Captain – McCoy was a way better choice than Chapel. This wouldn’t have been nearly as funny with her.”

Leonard frowns at Jim, surprised and unexpectedly stung for some reason he really doesn’t care to examine too closely. “You wanted to bring Christine down?”

“Don’t look at me,” Jim says. “That was Sulu’s terrible idea. Which wouldn’t even have worked, since I’d already told them about my husband.”

“Ah, I still think we could’ve pulled it off,” Sulu says. “And we could’ve pretended she was pregnant or something, really hit all the right notes. What, like they’re gonna pull out a tricorder to check?”

“I don’t know, I think they were really feeling this,” Aaronson says with a grin, gesturing between Jim and Leonard. “It kind of works, you know? The grouchy, stoic silent type and the bossy, overbearing chatterbox – no offense, sir.”

“None taken,” says Jim.

“Speak for yourself,” says Leonard, glaring at Jim before turning it on Aaronson, who has the nerve to laugh.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. You remind me of my parents. You know, if my parents were Starfleet officers instead of frail elderly Brooklynites whose idea of adventure is an extra half-glass of wine with dinner.”

“Am I your mom?” Jim asks. “I bet I’m your mom. That explains a lot about you, by the way, Lieutenant.”

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment, sir.”

“You should.” Jim abruptly cocks his head to the side, like a curious dog. “All right, break time’s over, folks. Sounds like they’re finishing up in there.”

Sure enough, if Leonard strains to listen over the shrill chorus of cricketsong starting to rise from the surrounding fields, he can just make out a low buzz of activity coming from inside the audience hall: the creak of wood scraping over stone, the indecipherable murmur of conversation. How Jim heard it is a medical mystery. He ought to be stone deaf from all the explosions and teeth-jarring music he subjects his ears to, but the man’s got uncommonly keen hearing – when he chooses to, anyway.

Jim reaches out to reclaim Leonard’s hand, slotting their fingers together again like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “C’mere, sugar plum – sorry, sorry, Leonard. I forgot.” He smirks in response to Leonard’s scowl, entirely unrepentant.

Sulu pats Leonard’s shoulder in a show of sympathy, probably more to needle Jim than anything. “Hang in there, Doc. Just remember, you get to cut the knot as soon as we’re done here. I’ll throw you a divorce party and everything.” He lowers his voice and adds, with a significant raise of his eyebrows, “And, hey, if you need help hiding the body…”

“You know, Demora would be just devastated to find out her dad was a heartless monster reveling in the downfall of true love,” Jim says in a warning tone.

“Low blow using my kid against me, sir,” Sulu reproaches him. “You’re a family man now. You should know loved ones are off limits.”

“You literally just offered to help my husband murder me. Which definitely counts as conspiracy to mutiny, by the way. You’re demoted.”

“Yeah, right. Who’s gonna fly that thing – you? You can’t even dock her without scraping the hull.”

“Seriously, you have got to let that go,” Jim says. “It was one time, and we were on fire. Forgive me if I was a little distracted.”

Some days Leonard honestly can’t believe these people are the best Starfleet has to offer. “Are you two toddlers about done, or am I going to have to ask the Mother to find a quiet place to put you down for a nap?”

“I’m done if he is,” Sulu says. Real mature.

“Yeah, we’re done.” Jim sidles a bit closer to Leonard, nudging their shoulders together. “You’re not really going to kill me, are you, Bones?”

Bones. Against his will, not to mention his better judgment, Leonard feels himself softening. He looks at Jim, crowded up in his space and watching him with those pretty twilight eyes, mouth tilted into another crooked smile. Jim Kirk, his troublesome stray – domesticated now, but far from tame, still running roughshod over him and dragging him into all manner of idiocy, secure in the knowledge that he’ll be forgiven just about anything.

When it comes right down to it, Leonard’s the biggest sucker of them all, really. Ten years he’s had to build up a resistance to Jim’s tricks, and if anything, he’s only grown more susceptible. As his mama used to say, if there were a contest for hopeless cases, he’d take the prize.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he tells Jim. “I’m weighing my options.”

Jim adjusts his hold on Leonard’s hand, tightening up the weave of their fingers. “Well, let me know what you decide,” he says amiably, and leans in to press another soft, smiling kiss to Leonard’s cheek just as the doors of the audience hall creak open.

[Chapter 3]