#kirk gets off the bridge after a shift and has a couple of hours?

[universalcaffination]

Tos books that share kirk being a nerd have my soul

[hailbop1701]

Curing a Rainy Day

A sort of five times Star Trek gen fic for your viewing pleasure. I mentioned I would write it but please be aware that I wrote this on my phone late at night and I has no beta. Typos and mistakes will be found. 🤣

-H❤🖖

Word Count: 2,166

Sulu:

Leonard McCoy wasn’t a huge touchy-feely type of man. Well, that’s what he really wants folks to think anyway. He was a doctor and that meant it was his oath-bound duty to cure what ails his patients. Whether it was from a physical malady or an emotional one. The first time he initiated his “Rainy Day Cure” --title courtesy of his daughter-- to one of the command crew he was surprised that it was Sulu of all people. If Len were being honest he thought it would have been Jim. Sure he had hugged the kid in the past but he always let Jim be the one to initiate contact. The reason why is complicated and a story for another time. 

When he found him the young pilot was huddled alone in Observation Room Five, his shoulders hunched, his down so his eyes were hidden and mind lightyears away. Leonard had a feeling he knew where. The chaos after Khan and Marcus had caused a lot of damage, and not all of it was physical. They were all still healing even a year later. They had left Kronos not three hours ago and according to the mission report, Sulu’s younger sister was…

Not who she claimed to be. ‘Yuki,’ McCoy recalled her name lamely as he made his way loudly over to the depressed man.

She revealed that she worked for Section 31 and was determined to fix the Federation the right way. Though the term “Right way” is skewed for many folks. War was almost started, again and the Enterprise had to stop it, again. Section 31 now had the last little pebble of Red Matter and was holding it like a…” Nuclear deterrent” as the old saying goes. 

Shaking his head Leonard pushed recent events to the back of his mind and continued on his own mission. Plopping down on the couch that faced the giant window of stars, McCoy leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. 

He didn’t offer his apologies or sympathies, he knew Sulu didn’t want them. So they sat in silence. Sulu just shook his head and looked up at the doctor with confusion and betrayal in his eyes. “I don’t - I” he stopped swallowing and the helmsman looked so young Leonard didn’t even think about it until after he had already done it. 

He wrapped an arm over Hikaru’s shoulder and squeezed. Sulu stilled for a moment before relaxing and saying what needed to be said, a weight slowly lifting off his shoulders and his chest. 

Scotty:

Leonard and Scotty were both having a terrible terrible time. The cold sucked in Leonard’s opinion and being trapped on an ice ball of a planet only confirmed his feelings. Looking over at the Enterprises Chief Engineer, Leonard had a feeling that he wasn’t alone in his thoughts and feelings. 

The Scot was curled into a tight ball up against the last running console the entire ‘Fleet base had. He was shivering and muttering to himself, glaring at the distress signal he had rigged up. There was nothing they could do but wait. Rubbing his hands together to warm them Leonard moved toward the console and slid down to the floor next to Scotty. Touching shoulders with Scotty, McCoy tucked his hands under his arms and sighed. There was nothing he could really say to ease the engineer’s anxiety -- which stemmed from Delta Vega no doubt --  so he simply let his presence be enough. 

Scotty glanced at Leonard to see that he was looking back at him with calm understanding. Grunting Scotty curled himself closer to the CMO and let the man wrap an arm around his shoulders. They didn’t speak a word and only moved when they heard the sounds of the rescue party on the other side of the sealed doors. 

Chekov:

Pavel Chekov was the youngest of the command crew, so he was automatically protected and treated like the youngest sibling of a giant family. The navigator understood that his friends didn’t mean to and that it was just sometimes a reflex but he was getting damn tired of it. Today was his birthday, he had finally turned twenty! Chekov was so pleased to find that after the incident with Khan he was being treated like he should. There was one person who always treated him like he was young and precious. 

Pavel found that he didn’t mind so much. Doctor McCoy treated almost everyone that way -- even though he wasn’t that much older than the rest of them --  in an almost fatherly manner. A true caretaker. Chekov allowed the behavior from no one but McCoy. 

Leonard walked into “Rec Room Two” taking in the crowd with a softening scowl. A small wrapped parcel gripped in his hand. He looked down at the present, weighing it in his hands carefully.  With a sigh, McCoy strode through the room looking for the birthday boy. Jim waved at him wildly from the other side of the room a huge grin on his face. Narrowing his eyes, Leonard saw that his captain wasn’t in fact drunk at all. Grunting in approval he smiled at Chekov who was hurrying over to greet him. 

“Happy Birthday Pavel,” 

Chekov grinned and his eyes widened at the present presented to him. Leonard gestured for him to open it and the young man did excitedly. The wrapping paper littered the floor a long black box in its place. Slowly opening the box the navigator knocked a silver antique pocket knife into his hands. Examining it closely he looked up at McCoy in confusion. 

Leonard shifted nervously on his feet. Clearing his throat he pulled out a similar from his belt. “My daddy gave me this one to match his when I turned twenty. I know your pa wasn’t around as you grew up and so I thought…” his sentence fell into silence. For once Leonard McCoy was at a loss for words. Pavel quickly wiped a stray tear from his eye and grinned at his friend holding onto the gift tightly. 

“Thank you doctor!” he said gratefully and Leonard understood that it was for more than just a knife. A small smile graced the CMO’s lips and pulled the kid in for a hug. 

With anyone else, Pavel would have been annoyed. This was an exception. 

Uhura:

Leonard was tired. He longed for his bed but as he looked around at all of the injured crew he pushed the longing away. There was no time for it. Rubbing the blurry fatigue from his eyes he pushed on. Triage, surgery, aftercare. He really didn’t truly stop to breathe until the middle of gamma shift when the ship was sleepy and quiet. The only noise was the soft beeps and whistles of monitors. His nurses quietly whispering and working. 

Christine hours ago told him to stop worrying and to go to bed already but something in him just couldn’t. Blinking dumbly down at the PADD in his hands he sighed and signed off on the next round of Spock’s antibiotics. During the Enterprises most recent scuffle the bridge took a hit and the science station exploded sending the first officer flying, earning him a ticket to medical. 

After the fight was over and things had only calmed down to a trickle of wounded instead of a flash flood, Nyota Uhura breezed through sickbay’s doors. She waited patiently and even helped where she could. When Spock came out of surgery and was placed in a private room she immediately went to his side and hasn’t moved an inch since. Jim would have been right beside her if he could afford to. But it appears the admiralty wanted words and had kept him busy since. McCoy had barely just convinced him to get some sleep saying that he would call if anything changes. 

That was three hours ago. 

Leonard walked -- though Nyota would say shuffled -- into Spock’s room, his eyes going straight to the monitors above the bed. The half Vulcan was resting peacefully. McCoy knew it was only a matter of time before he woke and would go into a healing trance. Something that should be monitored anyway. Leonard quietly wondered who he would grant the opportunity to slap Spock awake this time…

“Leonard!” 

The sound of his name made the CMO snap his head in Uhura’s direction. Her eyes were fire, filled with frustration, exhaustion, and worry. McCoy winced, “Sorry Nyota, guess my mind wandered a bit,” he said somewhat sheepishly. Her expression softened a flash of guilt passing through her features. 

“You need more rest. You’re going to run yourself into the ground at this rate,” she scolded half-heartedly. McCoy gave her a small smile and a shrug, 

"I'll rest when I'm not needed." He whispered and badly covered up a yawn. The hidden meaning behind his words wasn't lost on the linguist though. She pressed her lips into a tight line deciding not to comment. Instead, she rested her gaze on Spock once more her hand inches away from his. 

So deep in thought, Nyota hadn't even realized that McCoy had left and come back, a tray with a couple of hypos in his always unwavering hands. Catching her eyes he gave her another encouraging smile. He took care to tell her everything he was doing and how it would help keep infection away. Leonard knew he didn't have to explain but he felt it necessary to fill the quiet with "Illogical chatter" as Spock would surely call it. 

Uhura was so tired and so frazzled that she was startled to find the CMO crouching in front of her with concern all over his face. "You need to get some rest Nyota. I can have a cot brought in if you'd like…" 

Uhura, let a few tears fall before she bottled it up again. She shook her head wiping her face, "I'm alright Leo. Everything is just catching up to me…" she mumbled with a watery chuckle. Leonard snorted at the nickname she had given him, 

"Just let me know darlin' " 

And without truly thinking about it he pulled her into a hug. It only took Uhura a second to process what was happening before she wrapped her arms around him tightly. A genuine smile breaking across her face. The first time in hours she felt content, safe, and able to truly breathe. 

Jim: 

James T. Kirk was a touchy-feely type of man. Leonard supposed it may be from a less than stellar childhood. So whenever Jim would pull him into a one-armed hug or slapped his back or even leaned up against him, McCoy would let him. He would definitely bitch but only half-heartedly, Leonard needed to keep up appearances after all. 

So when they found Jim partially dead, hanging from his wrists in a cave all smirks and charm…

Well, no one batted an eye when -- after he made sure that the man would live -- Leonard pulled his best friend in for a hug. Jim just laughed, laid an arm over McCoy's shoulder, and leaned into the hug. 

"I only had to get tortured and offered to an alien God for you to hug me. Good to know," 

"Shut up Kid," 

Spock:

No one ever thought the words McCoy, Spock, and hug would ever be uttered but stranger things have happened on the Enterprise. 

No stranger than an alien device that turned back time. In a physical sense anyway. Leonard looked down at his adolescent hands and sighed with a heavy eye roll. "Not this again," he grumbled with a shudder. 

Looking around the room he saw Jim shouting at Mudd who had bought the alien weapon and decided to point it at him and Spock. McCoy tilted his head, his eyes going comically wide. 

Spock! 

Where was the green-blooded rugrat? Leonard looked around and sighed in relief at the sight of the first officer. He was hidden under a rickety wooden table. Crouching down Leonard gave Spock a small smile, he waved and gestured for the Vulcan to come closer. Apparently the younger you go the further your mind goes with it. Spock had a mentality of a...of well, a toddler. He couldn't have been more than two. 

Spock stared at Leonard intensely before darting out and crashing into his legs. McCoy stumbled a little before he got his footing. Spock looked up at him with wide scared eyes, tears threatening to fall. 'Must have gotten all Vucan-y at four or five,' Leonard thought as he picked up his friend. 

Leonard pulled Spock close, hugging him to his chest whispering softly. Spock seemed confused for only a moment before he buried his head into the young CMO's neck. 

Jim of course saw it all and later under the threat of meeting his end via an airlock kept his mouth firmly shut. The only thing the Starship Captain said -- which everyone agreed-- Doctor Leonard McCoy could absolutely cure a rainy day. 

Tags:

@lauraaan182, @chickadee-djarin, @cowenby2, @bluesclues-1234, @sayuri9908,

[starfleet-jelly]

ooooh a new star trek writing blog!!! could i request any kind of soft and fluffy tos kirk? it has been a Long Day and he is such a comfort

I hope this is what you wanted! Please enjoy (◕‿◕✿)

It was just another exhausting day on the Enterprise. There was an attack on a Federation colony not far from where the Enterprise was exploring. Kirk and his crew had spent days cleaning up the wreckage and helping the injured until other ships could come and tend to the disaster. Kirk was sore, he wasn’t just going to let his crew do all the work, but with his muscles screaming how they were, he almost wished he had. Kirk was finally done with his shift and wanted to be back at his quarters as soon as possible. The only thing on his mind right now was his beautiful s/o who was probably asleep in his quarters right now. Kirk has only seen them a few times over the last couple of days since they began to help the colony, they hadn’t really talked to each other besides the occasional How was your day? He didn’t like the idea of being away from his s/o this much and missed the contact.

Kirk opened the door to his quarters and walked in. Almost immediately after the doors closed he was taking off his shirt and tossing it onto the floor. From the corner of his eye he could see a figure stir in his bed. He smirked and kicked off his boots as he walked over to the bed and crawled into it. (y/n) rolled over and wrapped their arms around him. “You’ve been gone for almost 16 hours, Jim, I didn’t think I'd ever see you again.” they said jokingly and giving the blonde a peck on the cheek. “I almost didn’t think I would be back this early, but Mr. Spock said he would take over so I could have some rest.” Kirk said as he placed his arms around his s/o’s waist pulling them to his chest. (y/n) cuddled into Kirk’s chest and let out a sigh of contentment tracing small lines and circles on his chest and stomach. As (y/n) closed their eyes they gently brushed their hand through Kirk’s hair massaging his scalp. “I take it today was a stressful day?” they asked. Kirk hummed in agreement and leaned into their touch. “Help will be arriving tomorrow and then the Enterprise and continue on her mission.” he said as his hand rubbed up and down their arm a couple times before holding his s/o’s hand. “but you seem to be able to melt way any stress I have.” (y/n) giggled and kissed his jaw. “We can’t have a stressed out captain on the bridge, now can we? We can’t have a tired one either.” they said as the snuggled closer to him. “We haven’t talked in a while, (y/n). I missed you.” Kirk cooed squeezing her hand. It was obvious he was half asleep already and (y/n) smiled kissing his chest. “Get some sleep Jim. We can talk later. ” Kirk couldn’t really fight it much longer and gave one last hum before he drifted off to sleep.

[absolutebisaster]

Star Trek fanfic, I have no excuses. I'm hyperfixated

Laughter bubbled up from your throat as you watched the cadets running through the third deck halls. The USS Enterprise was always bustling with activity. With life. After beaming aboard you were on your way to the bridge. It was the first day of your transfer from the USS Arcadia and you needed to check in with the captain.

The bridge was just as busy as the rest of the ship. You could barely hide your excitement when you finally came face to face with the captain. James T. Kirk. "Its an honor to finally meet you, sir." You introduced yourself and informed the captain that you would be the replacement mechanical engineer while your predecessor was on family leave.

"Welcome aboard, ensign. We look forward to having you on board." Kirk waved you off and as you were boarding the elevator, you made eye contact with the Vulcan science officer. The quirk of his brow made your heart skip a beat and the doors slid shut, taking you down to the main engine room.

Your first day was suddenly your 79th and before you knew it, you had friends. No one on the ship was a stranger except the bridge crew. There was never time to meet them, they were always far too busy with 'Bridge Stuff' as some of the others called it. 

There was no one else awake as you walked the hallways of the Enterprise. It was late, you couldn't sleep and you certainly hadn't expected to see anyone, so walking into the cafeteria and seeing a figure sitting in the dimmed lights startled you.

Pushing the feeling down, you went to the replicator for a cup of tea. You glanced over at the man and quickly looked away again when you made eye contact. Unmistakably Vulcan. Mr. Spock.

"May I join you, sir?" You asked as you sat down with your tea, not waiting for an answer. "We met on my first day." But you reintroduced yourself because technically you were strangers. 

He didn't talk much, but you enjoyed the conversation you were having. He was a scientist first and a starfleet officer second, that much was obvious. It made you smile when he talked about his work.

"Oh man, I wish I could be part of a landing party some day. I can only imagine how amazing it is to make First Contact. That's why I agreed to take this assignment. The Enterprise is famous for First Contact." Vulcans didn't experience emotions the way your people did so you tried to hide your minor disappointment. "But grease monkeys aren't on the list of people required for First Contact." 

He quirked a brow, that same look from before. "Grease monkey?" 

"I'm a mechanical engineer, sir. I build and repair Starfleet engines. Not nearly as interesting as being a scientist." 

Then Spock said something that surprised you. "You are an invaluable member of this team, without you and your department, the Enterprise would not fly." Your bottom lip quivered and you looked down into your empty cup.

"Thank you, Mr. Spock. I… that really means a lot to hear." Especially coming from a bridge officer. "I just wish I could be… I don't know… more involved? I'm only stationed here for the year, so I know there's no point in getting too attached to the Enterprise, but this is the most famous ship in the fleet, to be sitting here tonight is what so many crewmen only dream of."

"You talk a lot." He said simply as he got up and headed for the door.. "Sleep well, ensign."

-----

Time was different in space. There were no days or nights to help show the passage of time. If it weren’t for the computer, you wouldn’t know if today was six days ago. Working down in the engine room especially made it complicated. All you knew was work. Since your late night tea with Spock, you had been thinking about him a lot. He was the only Vulcan you had ever actually met. The few in the academy with you were more concerned with their own lives to make friends and while you understood it, you found yourself researching Vulcan in your free time. 

After a rough mission on Melia left the Enterprise in desperate need of repairs, you put your personal life on hold. 38 hours into repairs, you couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t see straight and your head was spinning. When was the last time you had anything to eat? Drink? You were just about to climb down off the ladder when your foot slipped. 

Your head was pounding when you opened your eyes. The lights were too bright and you whined, bringing your hand up to shield the light. “Oh good, you’re awake. That was a nasty fall you had, ensign. Your ankle is almost done being reconstructed so take it easy, okay?” It was a medical officer? You were in sickbay.

“What happened?” you asked as you pulled yourself into a sitting position.

The doctor scanned your head. “Your crewmen said you blacked out and fell off the ladder you were on. Your foot slipped between the bars and broke your ankle but you should make a full recovery in the next hour so when you’re able to walk again, I want you on bed rest until your next scheduled shift, do you understand?”

“Yes sir, I understand.” you gave a weak thumbs-up and a smile. He walked off to deal with his next patient and that left you to look around sickbay. The Enterprise was going to recover. They always did, you had learned. 

Since you had your tablet on you when engineering beamed you to sickbay, you were able to log in and check the progress of the repairs. In the two hours you’d been unconscious, the chief engineer had gone down to finish your repairs. All the work you had put into the Enterprise had been finished by him and as far as you knew, he was taking all the credit for the repairs you’d done.

“Good, you’re awake.” When the captain walked into the room, you tried to scramble to make yourself more presentable but he held up a hand to stop you so you stilled. Kirk sat in the chair next to you and patted your hand “Scotty said that your work on the warp core saved our lives, ensign.” Pride was swelling up in your chest. Captain Kirk himself was talking to you! Your work hadn’t gone unnoticed! “So I wanted to come down here and thank you personally.”

“Captain, I love this ship, I was just doing what anyone else would do.” You were blushing and looking down at your hands as you picked at a callous. 

“Ensign, I want you to go ahead and take the rest of the week off to recover and relax. You’ve earned it.” pulling your top lip between your teeth, you didn’t respond. “I’m sure you don’t want to feel useless.” Kirk was speaking to you like you were friends and he reached out again to get you to stop picking at the skin on your hands. “So why don’t you take this week to study up on your Vulcan?”

Your head shot up and you finally looked at the famous captain. “Sir?” Kirk just patted your hand and left with a smile. 

-----

Your week off was leaving you with a disgusting amount of free time. You had been chased out of engineering just about every day. Apparently the team was under direct orders from the captain to make sure you took the time off. Fucker.

So you spent most of your time tinkering with the toys you collected. Remote control things designed to keep children entertained. The sphere following you now was one of your own design. You had taken the working components from the toys that broke and cobbled them together to make something entirely new. 

A few of the other crewmen stopped as they watched you and your toy walk by. You controlled it with your starfleet tablet. Was it appropriate use of the technology? Not by a long shot. But no one was actually going to say anything to you about it because they really didn’t care. As the sphere rolled along, it bumped off the walls and swerved to avoid tripping anyone. A couple people told you it was cool, but no one was really interested in it so you decided to go show your commanding officer. Maybe the lieutenant commander would find it charming.

The trip to the bridge was interrupted by the sphere going off on it’s own. The program you’d used to control your toys was missing some key components and this wasn’t your area of expertise so you decided to just follow along and see where the data took you.

The sphere rolled along until it bumped into a door. “Come.” the voice called from the other side of the door. This was someone’s private quarters and as you stooped to pick up the sphere to get it to leave, the door opened. There stood Mr. Spock with the same quizzical expression on his face he always seemed to have when he looked at you.

“I’m so sorry for the intrusion, sir. My robot came this way on it’s own.” you explained as the sphere tried to roll back out of your arms. “Where are you going? You’re embarrassing me.” you whispered as it slipped out of your grasp. It rolled into his room and you had to stop yourself from following it. “Oh! I get it, now. The cat must be yours! My sphere only reacts like this when the cat is around.” you explained and tried to get it to come back to you but it was already under his bed. 

“Yes, I have a feline companion. Tell me what your sphere does.” His tone was always so serious, it sounded like an order and since he did outrank you, you nodded and handed him the tablet with the control mapping pulled up.

“The sphere is just a toy I built from other scrap.” you explained. “It may look polished and nice on the outside, but deep down, it’s just a fu--” his brow rose. “It’s just a mess, sir. Something to keep me preoccupied during my quote-unquote ‘on-station vacation’ the captain gave me after passing out in the engine room when we left Melia.” You explained the controls to him and soon enough, he had it rolling out from under the bed. “It’s programming has it obsessed with cats for some reason I can’t figure out.”

“What programming software did you use?” the sphere rolled around his quarters as the two of you stood in the entryway together.

“I uh… It’s actually something of my own design. I’ve been working on it for like… ten years now. All my RC toys are controlled through that program because even though I can fix a warp engine, I’m not… actually all that computer savvy. I needed something simple that I could control multiple bots with.” You and Mr. Spock hadn’t spoken since that night you had tea together, this was a nice moment they were sharing.

He controlled the sphere so it rolled out of his room and took a step out the door to follow it. “Let us find somewhere else to take this toy, shall we? I do not want it to put unnecessary strain on my cat.”

“I’m not distracting you from anything important, am I? I didn’t interrupt sleep or meditation?” You followed him as the sphere rolled down the hallway. Spock had turned off the automated balancing system and he was having a much easier time controlling it than you did.

“No, I’ve found myself with free time today. You’re not interrupting anything.” Truth be told, he had been trying to meditate but was having trouble keeping himself focused. “What others have you built?”

“Do you want to see them? They’re all in my quarters on the next deck down.” You were already leading him to the lift. “I’ve been working on this little guy because the project I was working on I just… Can’t get it right. There’s some sort of scientific aspect I’m missing? Hey! You’re a science officer, do you think you might want to take a look at it?”

“I will help you if I can.”

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 51

~*~Sebastian~*~

I love stupid drinking games. One of the reasons Marvel press is fun is because of the dirt we have on each other from drunken nights and hours of waiting. Both result in otherwise inappropriate questions. This was just an organized version. When Boone said you never had fun with who you were sitting next to, I started counting people between and wrote a dare to make out with the person three people to your right.

Eli went first because it was his invention. Plus, since everyone did the never have I ever and could jump in with the truths, and the point wasn't to win, it didn't matter who went first. Straight in he pulls out, "Never have I ever had a threesome."

Me, Boone, Eli, and Alissa drink. I didn't know about Alissa. Will didn't drink, but he did laugh, "Bunch of whores."

Alissa shrugged, "Everyone experiments."

Kirk looked at her, "Not everyone. About half."

Emma was next, "Last movie that made you cry? Easy A Star is Born. I cried twice during. Sat threw the credits crying. Then absolutely sobbed in my car for another ten. Then went to see it again the next day and cried just as much."

Everyone shared theirs. Mine had been a month ago when ET was on late-night TV.

Alissa got two squares, so she got a question and a dare. Angry sex or makeup sex. Me, Eli, Kirk, Boone, and Emma were in for the angry sex. Alissa had to take off her bra and hang it from a light.

Boone had to share his worst sexual experience. That led to some funny shit. Eli had a woman throw up on his dick. He claimed the tour bus gave her motion sickness. Emma's was a guy who said his own name when he came. Mine was in the back seat of a car, missing a stroke when the cop banged on the window and thinking I’d broke my dick.

Angie pulled, "Never have I ever sent nudes." All of us drank. Will's truth was his virginity story. Kirk's ended in tears, but he wasn’t the one who cried.

I got a double color. Least favorite sex position and why. Sixty-nine because I can’t fully enjoy either and I wind up focusing more on my blow job and do a shitty job taking care of her. Emma's was reverse cowgirl because there's a problem with angle of entry and an unflattering view of her ass.

"There is no unflattering view of your ass." That just popped out.

Angie agreed with Emma, "She's right. Because in reverse cowgirl your ass is going to connect with his body and jiggle. Gravity works much better to smooth things out in doggy style."

Will smiled, "The jiggle is a feature, not a bug. But I do agree with the dangerous angles." All the straight men cringed.

My dare was to switch places with either person beside me, have the next person sit on my lap, with my hand on their inner thigh until my next turn. I ended up feeling up Angie in my lap. If I’d gone the other direction, I’d have Eli in my lap. My way was better.

Kirk read, "Never have I ever had phone sex."

Emma didn't drink, but she did glare at the woman in my lap. I raised an eyebrow, "Opposed or opportunity?"

She smiled as she said, "Opportunity."

I hummed, "You'll be in Georgia and I'll be in Canada next Sunday."

"I know."

"A lot of distance."

I started to say something about getting to be the teacher, but Angie swatted me and pointed a finger at Emma, "Any erection he gets is going to poke me in the ass, so stop what you’re doing."

You get the idea. Conversations about sex, preferences, and dislikes. Some basic shit with movies and music. Some good questions, so not so much. I learned Emma loves lazy morning sex, but not lazy evening sex. She learned I like it when she takes my hand because that's her wanting the contact. Everyone had to answer how many times they had sex in the last week. That wasn't fair. Not because I'm embarrassed by the number, but because it’s a lot to remember. I said, "Seven?"  Emma pointed up. "Eight?" She nodded.

Angie and Alissa exchanged a look, "No wonder her parts we still tingling the day after he left."

Will got a dare to explain in detail his last sexual experience, pick someone else to share, and then everyone had to vote. Wonder who he was going to pick? I prepared myself. Will and Alissa had a perfectly acceptable Thursday night with three position changes. She orgasmed during position two, switching to three to finish him. He told a good story that made his wife blush. He finished and looked at me. What did I say? I knew he’d picked me. Only he didn’t. He pointed to Emma.

Emma threaded her fingers together, turned her hands out, and cracked her knuckles.

What followed was a rather detailed accounting of our shower this morning. The physical part anyway. With just the physical description I realized just how much we talk during sex. I was filling that part in as she wove the story. Specifically, her asking if she should finish me and how her question nearly did. She didn’t share that part and her eyes darting to mine gave me a thrill.

As soon as she stopped talking everyone pointed at her, including Will. He nodded in my direction, “He alludes to a four-letter word starting with “W” and you’re blushing, but not one hint of pink from the erotic shower story?”

She took a sip of her drink, “I don’t like to lose.”

Angie raised her hand, “How did you not fall over? Showers are so slippery.”

Emma stood up and put her foot on the futon, “Tiled bench on the wall and a cut out shelf to hold onto to.”

I saw her put her hand on Eli’s shoulder and covered my face with my hands, “Somebody make her sit down.” I shook my head, “So fucking thankful Angie isn’t in my lap anymore.”

I heard Kirk laugh, “I think she’ll do fine with phone sex, Seb.”

His words got my attention. I dropped my hands, “Oh shit!”

A perfectly innocent question, “What’s your favorite thing about your birthday?”, took a turn. Angie had answered buying her favorite cupcake and two new ones from a bakery close to her school. Emma answered how it was her guilt-free day to be pampered and do whatever she wanted. Will smirked, “Birthday sex.”

Heads nodded with agreement. I shook my head, “Birthday sex means anal.”

Everyone laughed and Will shoved me. Hard.

Alissa crossed her arms over her chest, “Do not even act like that’s the only day you get it.”

Eli snorted, “I never get birthday sex.”

“You’re not getting non-birthday sex tonight either.” Beside me, Angie crossed her arms over her chest too.

I half expected Emma to cross her arms in solidarity.  I was struck with a drunken laughing fit. Others joined in.

Eli was not one of them, “How’s your birthday, Seb?”

“My birthday is in August.” See how I dodged the question.

Kirk started laughing so hard I thought he might piss himself. “Eli never gets birthday sex. Will has bonus birthday sex. I have lots of birthday sex.” He looked at me and pouted, “And poor Seb doesn’t know what he gets for his birthday.” He let out a very loud snort, “Straight people and anal.”

Emma pulled, “Pick a stripper or lap dance song.” I was fascinated by the way her eyes shifted from up and left to up and right and the way she chewed on her lip as she thought. She was thinking hard.

Eli elbowed her, “It’s not that hard of a question, Emeliana.”

She flipped him off, “Don’t Let Go, En Vogue.”

I have no idea what anyone else said. I was too busy finding the song on Spotify and creating a playlist. Will elbowed me. I looked up to see everyone looking at me. “Oh, not doing either. Naked is fine. Naked and dancing . . . nope. Too many body issues for that.”

Eli looked at me strangely, “Damn, if you’ve got body issues the rest of us are fucked.”

Emma smacked the back of his head, “You damn well know that outside and inside don’t necessarily match.”

He rubbed the back of his head, “Sorry. Fuck, that hurt.”

My text alert went off. It was from Will, who was sitting next to me. “Keep her.”

The questions and stories went on. The “game” ended when Eli reached the Candy Castle after skipping a big chunk of the board going through some sort of wormhole involving dots on spaces. I think he made it up.

We all did a celebratory shot and Emma pulled Angie off the couch, dropping down next to me. Alissa squished in between Emma and Will, so when we put our arms around the women, we brushed hands. Us, being us, we held hands for a few minutes. Long enough for Angie to take a picture and text it to Emma and Alissa.

I don’t even know how long we sat talking and sharing laughter. It was a good night. The kind of night you want to remember and never want to end. I would have never imagined a guy who’d dressed me over ten years ago on a TV show would be part of a couple who bridged my world and the world of a woman I met in a grocery store. A woman I adored more every day.

Everyone seemed to decide the party was over at the same time. We shared an Uber with Will and Alissa back over the Williamsburg bridge, dropping us off first. Inside the elevator Emma attacked me. Damn woman lacks self-control. I was going to wait until we got into my apartment. Instead, I found myself trapped in the corner, a hand on the back of my neck and one on my crotch. Sloppy, sloppy kisses were a preview of what was sure to be equally sloppy sex. We zig-zagged down the hall, fell through the door, and started shedding clothes on the way to my bedroom. She pushed me onto the bed and we fought with my jeans, laughing the whole time. Finally, we figured out my shoes had to come off first. I slapped at the nightstand drawer a few times before finding the handle and managed to get the condom on. Emma had much better luck with her shorts. I’d already pulled the drawstring on our way, so I gave her a head start. She straddled my hips and sank down on me.

I groaned loudly, “You feel so fucking good.”

Emma’s fingers pressed into my stomach, “You too.”

I used my thumb on her clit while she rode me. At least, I think I did. I was in the general vicinity. Precision with fine motor skills is one of the first things that go for me. I tried. It felt good, but I wasn’t getting any closer to an orgasm. I held onto her hips and rolled us over. Luckily, it only took two or three strokes to realize I wasn’t inside her anymore. We laughed as I got us back on track. A lot of groping and messy kisses later I pulled out and rolled onto my back. I looked over at her, “This isn’t gonna happen for me.”

She convulsed with a laugh, “Me either.”

While we laughed, I took her hand and held it against my stomach. “I don’t think you’re a real couple until you’ve had a sex failure.”

“And I have no confetti to throw.”  That started us laughing again. “Hey, your dick’s not broken and nobody yelled their own name, well, any name.”

“It could be worse.” I let go of her hand, lifting my arm for her to cuddle up. “Let’s go to sleep and forget this ever happened.”

“Not a chance.” She kissed my chest.

I pulled my head back and glared at her, “I don’t like you anymore.”

Emma kissed me very softly, “Yes, you do.”

I smiled, “Yeah, I do.”

~*~*~

About seven I sprang up in bed finding it hard to breathe. Night terror. Emma was sleeping soundly and I didn’t want to wake her. I picked my underwear off the floor and went to the other room. I sat in my favorite chair, focusing on my breathing to pull myself out of this. The racing heart and hyperventilating had me feeling dizzy and with numb extremities. Middle of the night panic is the worst. If I’m awake I can usually catch it quickly and do what I need to manage. In the middle of the night, I’m a couple of steps behind. Takes a little longer to calm down. When I left the calm place I visualize and opened my eyes I was better. The panic had passed as it always does. It would take a little while for the adrenaline to metabolize. I padded quietly to the bathroom, not wanting her to wake up and see me like this, to brush my teeth and wipe away the sweat. Back to the kitchen, I grabbed the biggest bottle of water I had. My journal was in the office. I swung by for it before heading back to my chair. My rule for this is to just write. Thinking or trying to figure out what was going on never worked. I would look back later, but for right now it was just stream of consciousness.

I heard Emma in the bathroom about an hour later. Putting my journal on the coffee table, I turned in the chair to be able to see her. When I’d gone to the bathroom, I’d moved our discarded clothes to the bedroom. She must have found them because she was in my shirt. Talk about something to put an instant smile on my face. I reached out a hand for her, “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Emma took my hand, letting me lead her to sit on my lap. She pressed her lips to mine before laying her head on my shoulder. “I missed your warmth.”

Kissing her head, I hugged her closer and made an instant decision to tell her. “I’ve been up for a while. Had a night terror. Fucking hate waking up in that panic.” Now, as I say it aloud, I realize even more than the panic, I hate feeling weak and out of control.

Emma lifted her head, her green eyes meeting mine with soft concern. She ran her fingers from my temple, around my ear, down my neck, over my beard, and finally to rest on my chest. “What do you need to take care of you?”

I smiled and kissed her. Fuck. I should have woken her up because the last ten seconds had done more to calm me than everything I’d done in the last hour. “I’m ok. Meditated, water, journaling.” I pointed to my journal.

“Any luck identifying the trigger?”

I shook my head, “Na, just wrote. I see my therapist on Thursday. She’ll tell me.”

She laughed, “Will she? Mine won’t tell me anything.” She imitated a voice I didn’t know, “I’m here to help you find your answers, not give you mine.”

“Good point.” I kissed the bare slope of shoulder not covered by my shirt.

“It’s been years, but I remember the after felt like bugs crawling through my veins. And the shaking.”

I held out my hand, watching the slightest tremor, “Not so bad.” Her fingers laced with mine, steadying more than my hand.

“Why don’t you go for a run and burn it off?”

“Thought about it, but didn’t want you to wake up to a note and think something was wrong. Too much to write out.” The thought of her thinking this had anything to do with her was enough to get my heart racing again.

“If there’s a next time, I’ll know.”

I like that she didn’t automatically tell me she wouldn’t have wondered.

Before I could voice my thought, her hand was on my face and she kissed me, “Seriously, Bastien, go for a run.” She nodded toward the door.

“And leave you here?”

“I will be right here when you get back.”

There’s a comforting thought. “Ok.” A run sounded good. Usually, I’d head to the gym early and hit something cardio and I’d be back to normal before the rest of the guys got there. She stood up and took my spot when I went to put on some clothes. I pulled my running shoes out of the closet and sat on the couch to tie them. “I won’t be too long.”

“Take as long as you need. I’ll shower. Maybe switch around some of your drawers and cabinets.”

“Sounds good, enjoy yourself.  Still want me to show you around today?”

“Absolutely.” She put her hand over her stomach, “You’re going to have to feed me.”

“I can do that.” I kissed her and headed out the door.

I put in my earbuds, cranked up the music, and just ran.

[v-thinks-on]

Nemesis

Sequel to Generations

Summary: Eight years ago, Captain Jean Luc Picard rescued Captain James Kirk (retired) from a temporal nexus, bringing him into the 24th century. Since then, Kirk has reactivated his commission and is serving as the captain of the USS Constitution. Meanwhile, Ambassador Spock has returned to Romulus in his continuing mission to reunite Romulus and Vulcan. A lot has changed in the galaxy in the eighty years Kirk was trapped in the Nexus, and now the balance of power is shifting once more as the Romulan government is overthrown in a coup.

The Senate has fallen.

Captain Kirk let his eyes fall shut and the bridge of the USS Constitution was replaced by the distant impression of a close, dimly lit cavern carved out of solid rock, hidden just out of sight of the Romulan Security force. Spock was sitting on a rocky outcropping that barely passed for a cot, meditating.

What’s going on? Jim asked urgently. He didn’t detect any anxiety on Spock’s part, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t cause for concern.

There was an attack on the Senate. Most of the Senators are dead. A man from Remus - Jim could feel Spock’s displeasure at the Romulans’ treatment of their sister planet - has seized control with the support of the military , Spock explained. Only then did he answer Jim’s concerns. My students and I are safe. Martial law has been imposed, but they are focused on disbanding those who were loyal to the Senate. The new Praetor’s views on Vulcan and the Federation are as of yet unknown.

You’ll tell me as soon as there’s trouble? Jim insisted.

Yes , Spock answered, at once exasperated and appreciative.

Good. Stay safe, Jim said, though he knew it was a tall order, and he didn’t have any authority over the Vulcan any more. Jolan tru.

Spock raised an eyebrow at the customary Romulan greeting. Be careful, Spock replied, no doubt already aware of all the plans forming in Jim’s head.

In the distance, Jim could barely make out a familiar voice calling to him. With some reluctance, he pulled away from the bond and returned to the bridge.

“Captain Kirk,” his young new first officer exclaimed, “Is everything alright?”

Kirk nodded as his eyes struggled to readjust to the brightly lit starship. He turned to the officer at communications - “Get me the nearest starbase. I have some news for Starfleet Command.”

Captain Kirk materialized on the main transporter on the USS Enterprise-E , where Captain Picard and First Officer Riker were waiting for him.

“Jim, it’s good to see you,” Picard said as Kirk stepped off the pad. “I wish it was under happier circumstances.”

“At least they’re willing to talk,” Kirk said dryly. Still, he smiled and turned to Riker. “Congratulations on the promotion, Captain Riker.”

“Not quite yet,” Riker replied with a grin, “After the honeymoon.”

“You’re actually settling down?” Kirk asked in exaggerated surprise.

Riker shrugged. “When you find the right person…” he trailed off.

Kirk nodded in understanding. “I hear Betazed courtship has a telepathic component,” he remarked.

 Riker gave Kirk a knowing look, but before he could reply Picard asked, “I take it you’ve heard from Ambassador Spock?”

“Yes,” Kirk said, “Not much is happening on the ground.”

“He’s still on Romulus after all these years,” Picard marveled as he led the way out of the transporter bay, into the corridor. “Unless his teachings have taken a revolutionary turn, it unfortunately doesn’t seem like much has changed.”

Kirk shrugged. “Spock doesn’t expect Vulcan and Romulus to be reunited any time soon. Though maybe this coup will change things.”

Picard just shook his head and turned the conversation around to Kirk; “Are you still enjoying being back on the bridge?”

Kirk answered with a grin, “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Will you be handing the Enterprise over to Captain Riker?”

“I believe I have a few more years in me yet,” Picard replied.

“Good. As long as you’re still in the captain’s chair, I can’t think of retiring.”

“Congratulations on Commander Patel’s promotion,” Picard remarked. “Is she your fifth first officer so far to be assigned a ship of her own?”

“Seventh if you count Spock,” Kirk said. “Commander Erhess is a captain now too.”

“You’re really going through first officers,” Riker exclaimed. “Starfleet Command must have you teaching a crash course in captaincy.”

“I do what I can and experience does the rest,” Kirk said. “Is Counselor Troi going to be your first officer too?”

Riker shook his head. “Deanna was promoted to commander, but she doesn’t want to go anywhere near command. To tell you the truth, I’m grateful - I don’t know how you and Ambassador Spock managed it.”

“He was my first officer first,” Kirk replied.

Before the conversation could continue, they arrived at Captain Picard’s ready room. Picard sat down behind his desk and Kirk and Riker pulled up chairs on the other side.

Once they were all settled, Picard began the meeting proper. “I was told you were assigned to escort the Enterprise to the meeting with the new Praetor.” He glanced at Kirk to confirm if that was all.

“I was willing to take any excuse they would give me as long as I got to go to Romulus,” Kirk admitted. “Do you know why the Praetor wants to meet with you specifically?”

Picard shook his head. “I can only guess that it has something to do with our past encounters with the Romulans, though I don’t know what.”

“Maybe they need an Arbiter of Succession and heard about your success with the Klingons,” Riker suggested.

Picard gave him a look before turning back to Kirk - not that he had any answers. “If you hear anything from Romulus, I think we’d all be a little more at ease if we had a better sense of what we’re walking into. Otherwise, I suppose we just have to stay on the alert and we’ll see what the Romulans have in store for us.”

The Constitution followed the Enterprise into a standard orbit around Romulus. And then they waited. For a few hours, Kirk resisted the urge to contact Spock beyond an initial check in - the Romulans could respond at any moment and they had to be ready for anything. But as the hours wore on, the sense of wary urgency went with them. The question changed from when the Romulans would act to whether they would and what they were planning. But it was clear enough that there wasn’t anything Kirk or Picard could do to move things along.

Kirk’s mind wandered from the mission at hand to the real reason he had nearly begged Starfleet Command to send him into enemy territory. Spock was waiting somewhere just below the surface of the verdant planet rolling by on the viewscreen. This was the closest they had been in years. All he had to do was get the coordinates and give the word and Spock would materialize in front of him in an instant. At least then the Romulans might actually do something. But it was not a risk he could afford to take, not when the possibility of peace with the Romulans was on the line, as unlikely as it seemed.

Kirk sighed and leaned back in his chair - he still wasn’t used to how far back it went, like a recliner not a seat of command.

A suggestion of questioning concern seeped through the bond. He could almost feel Spock watching him from the science station with those sharp eyes, pointedly reminding Kirk that he was being needlessly stubborn staying on the bridge when he should have been resting so that he would be ready when his ship really needed him.

Kirk nearly rolled his eyes in response, but accepted the unspoken advice. He hauled himself to his feet, handed off the con, and went back to his quarters. Only once he was safely inside did he surrender himself to Spock’s familiar presence.

The caverns under Romulus had changed little despite everything that had happened on the planet around them. They felt no closer even though Jim could almost reach out and touch the rough, rocky wall. Spock was seated in meditation as he often was during the long stretches of waiting underground. This time, however, he was not alone; he was surrounded by his pupils who he was instructing in proper Vulcan meditation. In his hands was his lyre, which he played to help guide their thoughts. Gentle ripples of music wafted over the bond.

Spock’s playing did not falter even as he turned his attention to Jim.

Has anything changed on the surface? Jim asked, even though he knew the answer. He started to pull off his uniform in preparation for bed, but he doubted he would be able to sleep.

You are in more danger in orbit , Spock answered the concern that underlay Jim’s question, if not the question itself.

I know. Jim just wished they could get it over with, and then he and Spock might actually be able to see each other, for at least a little while.

He felt Spock’s regret for being away for so long, even though they both knew it was for the best. Spock couldn’t leave Romulus now, not when there were still Romulans curious about Vulcan philosophy, and Jim belonged on the bridge for as long as he could manage it. Still, even with the bond, there was a long way between them, and Jim hated to waste an opportunity.

Rest . Spock encouraged him to lay down in his bed - it felt much too luxurious, when Spock was sleeping on rocks. We will see each other soon.

Jim felt a rush of warmth, affection and even some physical heat, as though Spock had settled into bed beside him. It wasn’t quite the same, but he appreciated the gesture. He could almost feel Spock’s presence - at least it was closer than most couples stationed in different places could get.

He realized Spock was purposefully lulling him to sleep just as he began to doze.

Kirk didn’t have time for a full explanation. His attempts at psychic communication were more clumsy than words, but what else was the bond for other than times like this. He tried to push all the urgency of the situation, the danger, through the bond while keeping most of his attention on the bridge where he was needed most. The new Praetor - apparently Captain Picard’s young clone - was planning on destroying Earth. He was already on his way. The fleet would try to stop him, but if they were too late…

Spock answered, steady as always, I will speak with the Praetor’s Romulan allies. He conveyed his coordinates to Kirk and there was no question about what he planned to do.

Kirk gave the order and Spock materialized directly on the bridge.

Their eyes met almost of their own accord. Even in the urgency of the moment, time seemed to come to a standstill. Spock was everything familiar and unfamiliar - Jim would recognize him in any time, anywhere, but he had changed, worn by years of a hard life in the caves of Romulus even though he bore it with an implacable pride. He regarded Jim with unchanging affection and maybe even some lingering admiration for the seasoned captain, back where he belonged.

“Captain” - Spock broke the silence and to Kirk it sounded like a term of endearment.

“Ambassador,” Kirk answered Spock’s formal address with a teasing smile.

Time seemed to pick up around them at an accelerated pace as they abruptly remembered their mission.

Kirk was the first to tear his eyes away. “Get us as close to the Romulan fleet as possible,” he ordered the helm, before turning to communications. “Open a channel, let them know we want to talk.”

It wasn’t long before the officer at communications reported, “The Romulans are hailing us, sir.”

“Put them on,” Kirk said.

A young Romulan officer appeared on the viewscreen, dressed in the new Romulan military fashion of almost sequined robes, decorated with squares of material in shades of brown. “Federation Starship, what are you still doing in Romulan space?” She demanded. “We’ve made our intentions clear.”

“Your Praetor has made his intentions clear, Commander,” Spock corrected her. “But he is not a Romulan, and nor, I believe, does he speaks for the Romulan people.”

Spock belatedly glanced over at Kirk for permission to proceed and Kirk just gave him a wry smile and gestured for him to continue.

“You’re a Vulcan,” the Romulan commander said, almost as though it was an accusation.

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Ambassador Spock at your service. You know as well as I that such destruction is not the Romulan way. Your new Praetor serves only his own interests, not the interests of the Empire.”

“What do you know about our ways?” The commander insisted. “You’re not even a full Vulcan.”

“I am not,” Spock said. “I have learned the ways of many worlds and have lived among your people for eleven years now - many years longer than your new Praetor. I do not claim to be a Romulan, but I can speak with confidence when I say that I know your ways, and that a true Romulan could not support this.”

“Why should I believe you? You’re a Federation spy,” the commander spat.

“I am no spy,” Spock replied evenly. “Allow me to beam aboard your ship, there I will be at your mercy and you can ensure that I am telling the truth.”

Kirk exclaimed, “Spock!” Silently, he demanded What kind of plan is that? He must have shielded his intentions from Kirk’s mind, but now Kirk could feel his stubborn determination and he fought it with his own iron will.

“Very well,” the Romulan commander said, ignoring the captain entirely. “You can transport over at will. If the Federation vessel tries anything, it will be destroyed.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Kirk protested.

“Do I have to make that an order, Captain?” Spock asked, every inch an imperious Vulcan.

It was revenge for all the times Kirk had ordered Spock to let him walk into danger on the captain’s prerogative. It grated a little, being ordered around on his own ship, but that was nothing to compare with the sight of Spock, commanding and unstoppable. He was truly a force to be reckoned with and Jim could feel himself falling in love with the man all over again.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him, to all appearances challenging and perhaps a little disdainful, but Jim could feel his bemusement. Unstoppable? Really? He seemed to say.

“You’d better be,” Jim retorted - he said the words aloud without thinking. Silently he insisted, Be careful , before ordering his crew, “Site to site transport the ambassador to the bridge of the Romulan ship. We’ll beam you back at the slightest sign of trouble, understood?” He gave Spock a look that dared him to argue.

“Very well,” Spock said. Silently, he acknowledged Jim’s concern with a brief flash of reassurance.

And then, the ambassador dematerialized in a column of light.

“Keep a hold on his signal,” Kirk ordered, before falling back into his chair.

He had a hazy, distant view of the inside of the Romulan ship, almost overlaying the bridge in front of him. Kirk desperately tried to focus on both at once, but he’d never had the talent for telepathy, and Spock’s shields didn’t help.

“That Ambassador Spock is something else,” his first officer remarked, jolting Kirk’s attention back to the Constitution .

“You don’t know the half of it,” Kirk answered with a shake of his head.

He tried to bring the Romulan ship back into focus, but it wouldn’t hold.

I need plenty of warning to get you back in time , Kirk tried to project over the bond.

Spock answered with a vague sense of reassurance.

Kirk knew a dismissal when he got one, and he didn’t want to distract Spock from the negotiations, but he would have rather gone with Spock than be left waiting on the bridge. Spock would signal when he was ready - thanks to the bond, Kirk was a better lifeline than any communicator - but until then, there was nothing he could do.

Finally, the bond opened up a little and Spock said, All is well. Go and join the other Federation ships. I will follow shortly.

Kirk conveyed his concerns about the plan more clearly than words could.

I am safe , Spock insisted. I would suggest that you be careful. The Praetor is dangerous.

Kirk didn’t like it, but he knew Spock wasn’t going to budge, and his ship was needed defending Earth more than watching after Spock. To his crew, he declared, “The Ambassador will manage without us. Let’s go save planet Earth.”

Mere hours after the death of the young Praetor, the most prominent Romulans remaining had gathered in a dark council chamber for a meeting with the President of the Federation. The President attended from the viewscreen at the far end of the room, opposite the Romulan delegation. Ambassador Spock of Vulcan had joined the Romulans, occasionally conversing quietly with the Romulan commander on his right. Distinguished Captains Kirk and Picard were mostly there as spectators, invited because of their role in ending the coup, but expected to remain silent during the diplomatic proceedings.

The meeting dragged on. After initial diplomatic pleasantries came the negotiations about what would become of Federation-Romulan relations under the new regime.

An early highlight was Ambassador Spock’s response to a pointed question about his own involvement. “I will remain on Romulus, educating its people in Vulcan culture and philosophy. I would also be willing to serve as a liaison between Romulus and the Federation,” he said. 

“You would send a known revolutionary, who admits to attempting to undermine the Romulan way of life, as the Federation representative?” one of the Romulans demanded.

“I have no intention of undermining anything,” Spock answered calmly, perhaps even a little bemused by the accusation. “I respect the Romulan way of life and believe that Vulcans have much to learn from it, just as Romulans have much to learn from Vulcan.”

“I vouch for the ambassador,” the Romulan commander said. “At least he will have a better understanding of our way of life than a human. No offence intended,” she added with a challenging glance at Kirk and Picard.

“One moment,” the president attempted, “The Ambassador is no longer in service of the Federation.”

“I will accept the position if it is offered,” Spock replied. “Now, for the terms of demilitarizing the area around the neutral zone.”

Finally, the President of the Federation surrendered - after all, it was only a matter of time before Spock got his way.

The rest of the meeting was all logistics that Kirk had no say in and diplomatic maneuvering that he wanted no part in. Spock kept his mind carefully shielded, so Kirk contented himself with exchanging glances with Picard in an attempt to keep his mind from wandering. Really, Kirk had little cause for complaint; he was planning on staying on Romulus for as long as he could to make up for missed time with Spock - he would return to the stars soon enough. Picard, on the other hand, had places to go and things to do.

Finally, there was a recess in proceedings. The starved diplomats were let out into a brighter chamber, where refreshments were laid out on a table. Kirk and Picard went for a few laps around the room, walking and talking, just to stretch out their legs while Spock wowed the Romulans.

Suddenly Spock glanced up from what seemed to be an avid conversation and caught Kirk’s eye. To Kirk’s surprise, Spock silently beckoned him over through the bond.

“I think I’m being summoned,” Kirk said with a smile.

“By all means.” Picard gestured toward the expectant ambassador.

Kirk made his way over to the group of Romulans, all gathered around Spock. It was amazing how much presence he had now, how he commanded a room with a sort of quiet authority. He had always been too stubborn not to get his way, but being a legendary ambassador certainly didn’t hurt.

Spock raised an eyebrow at Kirk’s musings. Kirk only smiled.

He extended a welcoming arm to Kirk as he approached, though it purposefully didn’t quite reach him. “You are familiar with Captain Kirk.”

“From the 23rd century?” one of the Romulans confirmed.

“Yes,” Kirk answered - it was a common question where he was concerned.

“As am I,” Spock pointed out.

“But it is much stranger for a human to live so long,” the Romulan commander said, unamused.

“Dr. McCoy is still alive,” Kirk added.

“The doctor at least looks his age.” Spock was playing devil’s advocate and he knew it.

Kirk gave him a look before turning to the Romulans. “Well, it’s my pleasure to meet you and to be here for this historic occasion.” Not that he really had anything to do with the history being made.

“There is still much to be decided. It is not necessary for you and Captain Picard to sit through hours of circular debates. I am certain a tour could be arranged instead,” Spock suggested.

While Kirk was being introduced to the Romulans, Picard had meandered over to the table for a bite to eat and lingered on the edge of the conversation. Now Kirk glanced over at him. “What do you say?”

“A brief tour,” Picard said, “And then the Enterprise should be on its way.”

True to his word, Picard left as soon as the tour was over. Kirk meandered over to where Spock was staying during the proceedings. The rooms were sparse, but much more comfortable than the caves he’d been living in. Kirk checked in with the Constitution in orbit and then settled in to get some work done while he waited.

The first word from Spock was the relief that came at the end of a long, exhausting day. More coherently he elaborated, It has been decided that we will recess for dinner and resume tomorrow .

Good , Jim said. Dinner in? There’s a replicator in your quarters.

Yes, Spock replied, and then his shields returned.

Jim knew better than to prepare anything in advance. He never left duty right at the end of his shift; there was always some officer that needed his approval for something. Eventually he’d make it back to his quarters. Spock was the same way when he was on duty. Jim just kept wading through his paperwork, keeping an ear out for Spock’s arrival.

Sure enough, some time later, he heard Spock’s voice in the hall, though Jim couldn’t quite catch what he was saying. His footsteps slowed to a stop just outside the door before it slid open, revealing Spock followed by the young Romulan commander.

Kirk put aside his work without a moment’s hesitation and welcomed the commander with a smile. “I didn’t realize we were having guests or I would have had everything ready in advance.”

“Captain Kirk,” she exclaimed in surprised greeting.

“There will be plenty of time for debate tomorrow,” Spock said to the commander, only sparing Kirk a brief glance. “Now, I recommend that you reserve your strength.”

The commander inclined her head in acknowledgement. “See you tomorrow. Ambassador, Captain,” she said to each of them in turn, before taking her leave.

Finally, the door slid shut behind her.

“She is very loyal to her people,” Spock remarked. “Her only fault is her impatience.”

“She’s not the only one getting impatient with all the diplomacy.” Jim gave Spock a look. Their bond was still mostly shielded, but he could feel Spock’s exasperation with it all.

“Perhaps,” was all Spock said in response. There was a faint trace of a smile, but it had been a long day.

Jim reached out almost tentatively - though he feared no rejection - and took Spock’s hand, cradling it in his own. He savored the alien warmth of Spock’s skin, the real, solid touch that he had been without for so long.

Slowly, Spock let his thoughts seep through the contact, steady and familiar. There were always gears turning in his mind, mulling over the work that needed doing and all the myriad problems that needed solving. Over the usual hum of activity was a quiet gratitude and affection for the man before him, dare he say a joy at having him back in his life.

Jim smiled. His feelings surged through the bond of their own accord. Overwhelmingly human, but Spock found them comforting in their way.

Eventually, Jim suggested, “Dinner?”

Spock allowed himself to be led to a chair with some bemusement. Jim went and replicated a meal for two and then joined him at the table. He gave Spock a moment to catch his breath, though their eyes met without thinking. Jim couldn’t help but grin and Spock answered with a subtle smile that was clearer in his eyes than across his lips. A steady warmth seemed to permeate the room that had nothing to do with the temperature set high enough for an old Vulcan.

Jim let out a sigh of contentment. “You wouldn’t consider a position as my first officer?” he teased.

“I would have to consult the President of the Federation,” Spock replied, “Though the president would likely be relieved to find that I am otherwise engaged.”

“Have they officially made you ambassador to Romulus yet?” Jim asked.

“Yes,” Spock said. “It was easy enough to make them see logic.”

“Congratulations.” Jim raised his glass in a suggestion of a toast.

Spock bowed his head in appreciation. “Now that I am on Romulus in an official capacity, I expect that I will be able to request the regular presence of a starship,” he remarked.

Jim grinned. “And here I thought you’d gone all the way to Romulus to get away from us illogical humans.”

“Not at all,” Spock said. “Romulans are no more logical than humans.”

“Not developing a preference for pointed ears?” Jim couldn’t help but ask.

“Your ears are perfectly satisfactory,” Spock answered, all seriousness, though Jim could feel his quiet amusement.

“Good,” Jim said.

After a moment’s pause, Spock asked, “Your new first officer is adapting to command?”

Jim nodded between bites of food. “It took a little while, but they’re getting the hang of it - just needed a little practice.”

“I am certain they have had many opportunities to command,” Spock said. “And you?”

Jim answered with a smile, “I have a few years left in me. Jean-Luc still isn’t ready to retire.”

“You do not recover as quickly as you once did,” Spock cautioned, a memory of a recent incident at the forefront of his mind.

“I know,” Jim said reluctantly. “Eventually I’ll retire to Romulus.”

“We could divide our time between Romulus and Earth,” Spock suggested. “Starfleet Academy would certainly benefit from your experience.”

Jim waved it off. “When the time comes.”

Spock nodded, a trace of a smile across his lips. “You do not make it easy, however your contentment is more than worth a little concern.”

“You’re not the only one who’s had cause for concern,” Jim pointed out, remembering a few close brushes with the Romulan Security Force.

“It should be easier now,” Spock said.

“And I’ll try to be careful,” Jim said, but he could make no promises. “At least now we won’t be having skirmishes with the Romulans.”

“You crew is fortunate to have you as their captain.” Spock’s admiration for Jim somehow remained after all those years.

“I’m lucky to have a good crew,” Jim answered, though no one could compare with the crew of the first Enterprise.

That night, they both stayed in Spock’s rooms on Romulus. Jim savored the feeling of Spock around him, even though the room was already hot by human standards. They wouldn’t be this close again for a while, but maybe it wouldn’t be so long this time.

“I’ve missed you,” Jim murmured without thinking.

“And I you,” Spock said softly, his breath gently tickled Jim’s ear. The eighty years Spock spent alone while Jim was trapped in the Nexus lingered unmentioned between them.

Jim rolled over to face him, so their noses were mere centimeters apart, an arm around Spock’s waist for good measure. He rested his other hand on Spock’s and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Spock maneuvered their hands to bring their first two fingers together. Parted from me, yet never parted - the familiar litany echoed over the bond.

Aloud, Spock whispered, “Your joy at being back in the captain’s chair where you belong has been a thing to behold. Perhaps one day I will retire and resume my commission as your science officer.”

Despite missing eighty years, there was no question that Jim would have to retire before Spock - for one, the duties of an ambassador were very different from a starship captain - but he appreciated the suggestion. “I would hate to tear you away from your students,” Jim said with a smile.

Spock met Jim’s eyes and a rush of gratitude flowed through the bond. Even though Spock’s duty was to his students on Romulus, he often felt a pull toward Jim’s ship, wandering through the stars. Though he did not regret his decision to remain on the planet, he was not without guilt.

Jim answered with reassurance and his own guilt for exploring the stars while Spock remained in danger on Romulus. But the truth was, they were both happiest where they were, and that was what mattered. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all and Spock responded with a wave of affection.

Jim nuzzled closer to Spock, so his lips brushed against Spock’s ear as he said, “Congratulations, Ambassador.”

“Thank you, Jim,” Spock said.

Jim pulled back a little for a soft kiss, and then he cuddled up against Spock, so they could be as close together as possible for what time that they had.

We will see each other again soon.

Note: This is my contribution to this year’s Old Married Spirk Month, thank you @plaidshirtjimkirk for organizing this wonderful challenge!

This story was supposed to be posted after my response to Star Trek: Generations, but that ended up being much too long to fit in the month of November (or even for me to finish posting before it), so this story ended up coming out first.

[annathewitch]

Falling, Ch.2: (Let’s Get) Physicals

Summary: Bones x Reader. 2/6, Annual physicals are due and you have to get the crew to attend, including a reluctant Captain.  Bones comes to a realisation.

Word Count: 5000 *eep*

Warnings: Swearing 

A/N: So part 2 ended up being a bit epic and a fic in itself (must practice drabbles…).  It’s also more plotty than part 1. But there’s some Jim, and a little Spock, and Halloween so I needed all those words. 

I still need to work out how to link to part 1… spot the tumblr noob.

“October,” Doctor McCoy announced with a sigh, dropping a couple of padds on the station between you and Christine and perching on the edge, legs stretched out in front of him and arms crossed, “you know what that means?” “Halloween?” you supplied without looking up from your console. McCoy grimaced, “worse than that, guess again.” Your head shot up. “Back up a minute there Doctor! What do you mean, worse than Halloween? Halloween is awesome! Costumes, trick or treating, pumpkins, unreasonably vast quantities of candy! What’s not to like?” Christine chuckled and you shot her a look. “Try all of the above,” McCoy retorted. “Damned pagan nonsense is a recipe for stomachache, cavities and general ridiculousness. Guess again.” You rolled your eyes and shrugged. “I give up.” “Annual physicals!” Christine chipped in, clapping in what you could only assume was mock excitement. “You’re in for a treat Y/F/N.” “You needn’t sound so damn pleased about it Chapel. A month of mind numbingly tedious work and that’s when you can get the damn crew to an appointment. Hell, it almost makes me long for shore leave on a planet full of pregnant Gorns.”

The Doctor turned to you and raised an eyebrow, the faint trace of a smirk gracing his features. “In honour of your first starship assignment, you get the dubious pleasure of making sure every last one of the idiots on this tin can attends an appointment. They’ll try but no one gets to wheedle their way out of it Nurse Y/L/N.” McCoy’s comm buzzed and he excused himself, giving you both a jaunty salute. You stared after him incredulously.

“Close your mouth Y/F/N. you’re catching flies,” Christine said, suppressing a grin.

“What’s got into him? Is this retribution?” you asked, slumping back in your chair.

Since your ‘intervention’ a little over a month ago, McCoy seemed back to his usual self, perhaps even a little less grumpy. He’d smoothed things over with Chapel, which was a relief for everyone, and you had thought your own relationship with him had improved. He seemed more personable and you found he requested your assistance more frequently than before. Even off duty he’d sometimes sit with you in the mess, presumably when the rest of the senior crew were busy. You also occasionally arrived on shift to find a perfectly replicated coffee waiting for you, and Chapel had suggested it was the doctor’s way of acknowledging and apologising for his asshole behaviour.

However, you hadn’t actually talked about the conversation. McCoy had said in passing that Joanna was doing fine, and he shared bits and pieces from her comms, which were more frequent than ever, but neither of you mentioned what had been said that day. Despite the positive effect, you felt a niggling doubt that you had overstepped your position, forcing him to reveal things he wasn’t comfortable with. It was best to let him bring up the subject if he wanted. “No! He needed a good talking to and he knows it.” The head nurse reached out and touched your arm, “It just so happens we both think that you’re the best person to get the job done. You’ve said you wanted more responsibility, now’s your chance.” You considered this for a second and accepting her reassurance, nodded. “Well thanks, I think.” McCoy had silently cursed when his comm had interrupted your conversation. He hadn’t wanted to drop all that work on you and just up and leave, but a summons from Jim couldn’t be ignored. He stalked along the corridor, not realising he was growling in frustration until he startled an ensign coming the other way. He stepped into the express turbolift to the bridge, and leaned back against the handrail. As he absently watched the deck lights flashing by he couldn’t help but think about you. Again. Since that moment in his office a little over four weeks ago, he had developed a new kind of awareness of you. Of course he’d not been oblivious to you before, but it had been for practical reasons: you were a competent nurse, sensible and a decent substitute for Chapel when the need arose.

But now his awareness was harder to define. He was constantly aware of where you were and equally felt your absence. But it was also little things like when you wore your hair differently, or when he knew you hadn’t taken a break. Your voice was more distinctive and he found himself listening for your laughter, and he was sure the familiar antiseptic smell of the medbay was tinged with the smell of your shampoo whenever you had been near. Suddenly these things were important: you mattered to him. Unfortunately he had no indication that the opposite was true. You seemed to be more open with him the more time you spent in his company, but the friendliness and gentle teasing banter you shared with him were not particular to your interactions. It was just the way you seemed to be with everyone. You were capable and independent - he had no sense at all that you needed anything from him. And you certainly had shown no inclination to discuss that conversation. You hardly needed to hear more about what a fuck up he was, his terrible choices were his own burden to bear. So he left it alone. As your CMO he had to be careful not to overstep his bounds and so far he had managed to keep things normal and professional. If he asked for your assistance a little more than he used to, it was simply because you were good at your job and you wanted to learn. And Chapel had supported the idea of you leading on the physicals this year. There was no reason not to spend time with you as colleagues, hell even relax and enjoy your company a little. 

For now, he would just have to learn to ignore the occasional swooping feeling inside when something you did caught him unawares. And stop behaving like a prize idiot. What the hell McCoy, did you actually salute the woman? Smooth. The gentle hum of the turbolift slowed as it came to a stop. McCoy straightened up and tugged on his uniform shirt. Things would be back to normal soon enough. Well as normal as they ever were on this damn ship. In the meantime he could do a fucking good job of pretending. “What the hell kind of mess have you got us into now, Jim?” Over the next weeks, you threw yourself into managing the physicals like a woman possessed. It was repetitive work, but the volume of it filled your days and you didn’t want to prove to Christine and McCoy that their faith had been misplaced. The whole team seemed to eat sleep and breathe examinations, paperwork and follow ups, and you in particular barely seemed to leave the medbay. Cups of coffee kept appearing on your desk with increasing frequency and Chapel seemed always to have brought an extra sandwich back from the mess, ‘just in case’. With only a few days left it had got to the point where there was only a handful of crew members who hadn’t booked an exam, mostly engineering officers and unsurprisingly, the Captain. You had sweet-talked Scotty into letting you track down his reluctant crew members on shift and force march them to an appointment, but Kirk was a different matter, the man was like a spectre, never where he was supposed to be. You knew that he did his damnedest to avoid medbay at all costs, and McCoy was the only person who managed to get him through the door while conscious with a combination of threatening, cajoling and downright deviousness. Chapel had warned you to expect his avoidance and not to take it personally, but you were so close to getting 100% attendance it was frustrating. “Hey, Doctor McCoy?” From behind his never ending stack of padds, McCoy saw a head peer tentatively round his office door. “What is it Y/L/N? I’m trying to finish these records before Chapel hypos my sorry ass.” He yawned and stretched. Starfleet command had grits for brains if they thought the physicals schedule was reasonable. “Sorry, I won’t keep you. It’s just the Captain…” McCoy’s head snapped up before you finished your sentence. “What’s the damned infant done now?” “Nothing, that’s the problem. He’s last on my list for the physicals, but he’s more slippery than an eel.” McCoy chuckled and sat back, “Yeah. Sounds about right for Jim. Welcome to my life! You need me to haul his ass down here just say the word.” “You think I want to give up that easily?” You raised an eyebrow and stuck out your chin stubbornly, and the doctor felt something twist in his gut. Of course you didn’t need his help. “With all due respect you gave me a job to do and I want to have one last try. I just might need to be away from my station for a little while?” McCoy cocked his eyebrow in return. “You do what you’ve got to do. But don’t be too hard on yourself if you can’t pin him down. Catching eels takes practice.” Well if that wasn’t a challenge.

Two hours later, you found yourself waiting in the Captain’s ready room. Lying in wait might be more accurate. Lieutenant Uhura had taken pity on you for your fruitless Kirk-hunt and had persuaded Commander Spock to hear you out. The First Officer had been surprisingly open to supporting your subterfuge. “The Captain’s health is of paramount importance to the efficient functioning of command, Nurse Y/L/N. As you have provided sufficient evidence to support your conclusion that all reasonable avenues to speak to him have failed, it is only logical to consider the unconventional,” Spock had responded. “Indeed, Doctor McCoy has himself had to employ unorthodox tactics on more than one occasion.” So he had gone to retrieve Kirk from the bowels of Engineering on the pretext that the Captain’s attention was required in his ready room. “If I neglect to mention that it is not I that requires his attention, it will not be a lie.” Spock’s mouth had curled an almost imperceptible fraction, and you had the distinct impression he would enjoy this. As you waited you were drawn to stare out of the panoramic floor to ceiling window behind Kirk’s desk. Medbay had no windows, so it was only off duty that you ever saw the stars warping in waves and swirls of light around the ship as it hurtled through the vastness of space. It was still novel enough to astound you. Mesmerised by the feeling of being inside a giant kaleidoscope, you were startled by the sound of the door opening and Captain Kirk’s voice. “What’s so important Spock, that you had to drag me away from my quality time with Mr Scott and the warp core?” He strode into the room. While his focus was fixed on his XO, you could immediately see how he could command the undivided attention of an entire room. There was something compelling in his manner and it made you nervous. Spock wordlessly inclined his head in your direction, and Kirk turned to look at you. You had adopted a stance with legs planted apart and arms crossed, ready for confrontation and hoping it conveyed a confidence that you certainly didn’t feel and more than a hint of displeasure. Kirk stopped in his tracks mouth open, looking between you and Spock. You raised an eyebrow hoping for additional effect and a shit-eating grin spread across his face. “Nurse, you’ve been spending too much time around Bones!” “Captain, with all due respect, you must just incite all medical professionals to eyebrow raising levels of exasperation.” Despite your words, your foot tapped nervously. “I’ve been looking for you, Sir.” Kirk laughed, and made his way over to take a seat in his chair behind the massive desk beside you. He indicated for you to do the same. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure Nurse…” “Y/L/N,” you supplied. “You would have had the pleasure sooner if you hadn’t been avoiding your physical, Sir.” “Straight to the point Y/L/N. I like that!” The Captain leaned in elbows on the desk, resting his chin on his fist. He looked at you intently. “Did Bones send you here to do his dirty work?” “No Sir. This was all my own initiative.” You smiled sweetly and continued, “So when can I book you in?” Refusing to be distracted by his startlingly blue eyes, you picked your padd up and pulled up the medbay schedule. Ignoring you, Kirk continued his own line of questioning. “You persuaded Spock to help you? To get me here under false pretences?” “Captain…” Spock interjected from behind you. “I know, I know, it was probably logical.” Kirk paused for a minute looking thoughtful. “Y/L/N I’m impressed. Listen, I’ll overlook all this,” he waved his hand vaguely, “and get my Yeoman to schedule something next week.” The shit-eating grin returned; you both knew the chances of that happening were slim.

You sighed and got to your feet. “I appreciate you making time in your busy schedule Captain.” He nodded a dismissal. “I’m sure Doctor McCoy won’t mind extending my deadline to accommodate you.” Kirk looked up at you with a frown. “Deadline Y/L/N?” “Yes Sir. End of Beta shift tomorrow is the deadline for all crew physicals. The Doctor put me in charge. Like I said I’m sure it will be fine.” You sighed again for effect. “I just wish I hadn’t taken his bet is all,” you added with a rueful smile. Spock quirked an eyebrow at you from across the room. “What bet?” The Captain asked curiously. “Oh, nothing much Sir. Doctor McCoy bet me that I wouldn’t be able to get every physical completed by the deadline. It’s not important. I mean he’ll be unbearable for days but…” You shook your head and shrugged and made as if to leave the ready room. Three, two, one… “Hold on there Nurse. What are the stakes in this bet?” You turned back slowly, wanting to dangle the lure a little closer, but not wanting to startle the fish. “A bottle of vintage bourbon. It’s silly, really, forget I said anything. Thank you for your time Captain.” You nodded at both of the senior officers and made a hasty but hopefully dignified exit, before scuttling across the bridge and into the turbolift. As soon as the door slid shut you slumped against the wall, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. Your little piece of deception might work or it might not, but bluffing like that had been kind of fun. Returning to the nurses station, you noticed McCoy watching from the other side of the department. He tilted his head at you in an unspoken question and you replied with a shrug.

There was an undeniable atmosphere of excitement tempered by utter exhaustion in Medbay the next day. It was the last day of the marathon that was physicals and in recognition of all the work done over the last few weeks, Christine had agreed that the team could dress up for Halloween if they wanted. McCoy had not disapproved, though he had vetoed the idea of ‘getting dressed up like a prize pig’ himself and that was about as much of an endorsement anyone could reasonably expect. He had arrived early and since there had been no overnight patients, he relieved Doctor M’Benga and the Gamma shift and set about replicating coffee. Checking the chrono he figured you would be arriving soon and so he left a steaming mug at your station and disappeared into his office. The coffee had become his little ritual, that started off as unspoken thanks but had continued beyond the shelf life of his initial gratitude. Truthfully, he had seen your smile whenever the mug was there and, observing your pleasure from afar, he didn’t question his motives too closely. Sure enough, he heard voices moments later - you and Chapel laughing over this ridiculous costume thing. He moved to stand in the doorway of his office, watching you help his Head Nurse, currently dressed as a witch, pin an arrangement of plastic bats into her hair. “So come on Y/F/N, let’s see yours!” “Oh, I totally cobbled it together last night. I didn’t exactly pack for fancy dress,” you laughed and shrugged off your oversize cardigan. You had borrowed a blue dress with a flared skirt from an ensign on your corridor, and adapted one of your uniform aprons to wear over it. Rummaging in a bag, you pulled out a wide blue ribbon and a battered fluffy white rabbit. You proceeded to tie the ribbon around your hair with a big bow and did a twirl. It was damned ridiculous really, but McCoy found himself thinking how blue suited you and before he knew it he’d left the safety of his doorway. “Alice! That’s cute.” Christine smiled.

“Appropriate,” McCoy said drily, making his presence known as he walked over, “most days on this ship I feel like I’ve disappeared down a damn rabbit hole. Nice bats Chapel.” He picked up the rabbit and looked at you with a quirk of his lip. “This yours?” You felt a flush rise. “Yes, he is. Don’t mock the rabbit.” You grabbed your bunny back with a huff. “So if we’re all in wonderland does that make you the Mad Hatter?” “Nope.” The doctor’s quirk grew into a rare full blown grin, dimples and everything. “Darlin’ our esteemed Captain has that role locked down. We’re all guests at his mad tea party.” “I’ll tell him you said so if he turns up today. Right, to work.” You sat down purposefully at your station, picking up the coffee waiting for you. Glancing up at McCoy you smiled knowingly, and he felt his stomach flip flop. Dammit. The day passed quickly, but approaching the end of Beta shift, there had been no sign of the Captain. You were just about ready to go and admit defeat to the doctor, when the doors to medbay swooshed open and in walked the man himself, apparently injury free and powered entirely under his own steam, closely followed by Spock. Sighting you at the autoclave, he made his way over, smirking. “Reporting for physical as ordered Ma’am!” You stared mutely, absolutely tempted to prod the man to make sure he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. The Captain winked, “I would have come earlier, but it’s more fun to snatch victory away from Bones in the final moments, don’t you think?” You nodded, making an odd sort of strangled sound. “Where do you want me?” Kirk asked waggling his eyebrows. “Um… take a seat in exam one and I’ll be right back.” You watched him saunter across medbay, and hustled over to Spock who was waiting with Nurse Chapel. “I can’t believe that actually worked.” You shook your head in disbelief. “I admit surprise that your… gambit resulted in success. I accompanied the Captain to see for myself that he reached his intended destination. You have indeed understood the motivations of the Captain where many have failed, myself included. I would posit that you are quite formidable when you wish to be Nurse Y/L/N.” Spock regarded you up and down. “You are dressed as Alice are you not?” You had forgotten that you were in costume. “Yes, Sir, for Halloween,” you nodded, slightly embarrassed. “I confess I do not understand the human custom for disguise, but I admit I have fond memories of my mother reading Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland to my sister and me as children.” He nodded crisply and left. Christine, unfazed as ever by the turn of events, nudged you out of your slightly bewildered stupor. “You’d best get the doctor, you should assist him with this one.” As if summoned, McCoy appeared behind you. “What did our Vulcan friend want?” “I’m not sure, but I think he liked my costume.” McCoy frowned in confusion. “And the Captain is in exam one, Sir. For his physical,” you added. With this additional surprising information, the doctor didn’t seem to know what to do with his face, and his eyebrows did a strange dance up and down his forehead. “You’re kidding me.” He looked to Christine for confirmation.

“Nope, she’s not.” The doctor spun on his heels and rolling your eyes at Christine you followed him into the Exam room. You nearly collided with his back as he stopped short, arms crossed, in front of Captain Kirk who was lying nonchalantly on the biobed, hands behind his head as if he was simply preparing to take a nap. “Bones!” he exclaimed sitting up. “Happy Halloween! I see Nurse Y/L/N here is a very fetching Alice,” he winked again, “and you, in that get-up you must be a hypo-wielding demon doctor, no?” “Unbelievable.” McCoy looked between you and the Captain, then seemed to recover from his shock and rolled his sleeves up. “You could have made a damned appointment like everyone else Jim. Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled. “You need my shirt on or off Nurse?” Kirk asked, blue eyes wide and innocent. McCoy snorted but before he could intervene you swatted your padd at the Captain. “Don’t you pretend this is your first physical, Sir. You know damn well you keep your clothes on. All of them.” He laughed, hands up in surrender. The rest of the exam was remarkably easy. McCoy couldn’t help sneaking a glance in your direction every so often, wondering, not for the first time, how you had achieved the impossible. As you were winding up, preparing a booster vaccine, Kirk turned to McCoy. “So Bones, don’t forget you owe Y/L/N that bottle of whiskey.” You fumbled the hypo, dropping it on the floor. McCoy looked at you curiously and you shook your head almost imperceptibly behind Kirk’s back. “Uh, just gotta get a new one of these,” you waved the hypo and disappeared out the door. “So,” Kirk looked speculatively after you with a grin, “she’s something else. No wonder the crew are knocking down the door for their physicals this year. I’m glad I finally had the pleasure of meeting the infamous Nurse Y/L/N. You know she doorstepped me in my own ready room doing a perfect impression of you. I like a woman with… I don’t know…” “Sass.” McCoy replied, “the word you are looking for is sass. And don’t even think about it Jim, my nurses are out of bounds.” He waved his tricorder warningly, ignoring the tight feeling in his chest as he realised the Captain, his friend, liked you. Few were resistant to his charms when he put his mind to it. “She’s more than sass and a pretty face, Jim. She’s smart and hard working and kind, and definitely too good for you so quit your flirting.” He punctuated each word with a jab of the scanner. Kirk looked innocently at McCoy. “I never said anything about a pretty face Bones.” As you came back in with the new hypo, something was off. The Captain was positively gleeful, and McCoy looked flustered. He told you to finish up and left the room as if someone had lit a fire under him. You administered the vaccine and rubbed the spot in Kirk’s neck to ease the sting. “That wasn’t so bad Captain, now was it?” “No. You’re better at it than Bones. I believe his bedside manner has been described by some as ‘questionable’.” You narrowed your eyes wondering just how much the Captain had been told about the conversation with McCoy. He smiled more genuinely at you than he had before. “I’m glad Bones has someone to keep him on his toes.” You laughed, “Chapel and I do our best. Between you and me I think she actually runs this place.” Kirk looked at you head on one side considering you carefully. After a moment he seemed to decide something, and he hopped off the bed and clapped you on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work Y/L/N.”

As the door closed behind him you breathed in deeply, then did a little victory dance round the bed. You didn’t notice the swoosh of the door opening again and it wasn’t until you did an undignified twirl with a final fist pump that you noticed McCoy was there shaking his head. “I am definitely down a rabbit hole.” He stepped in the room and leaned against the wall, arms folded. “You want to tell me how you managed that?” The doctor seemed to have regained his earlier composure, seemingly at the expense of your own. Your face was impossibly warm. “I don’t suppose you’d believe it was simple persistence?” you offered with a shrug, fiddling with your apron. “Nope.” He shook his head with a small smile. “I don’t doubt your stubbornness, but I’ve spent too long perfecting the art of Kirk-trapping to believe that.” You sighed and hopped up onto the biobed avoiding McCoy’s steady hazel gaze. Something about it made you at once unsettled and unable to lie. You’d seen him use it on patients to great effect, but only now realised it’s power. He waited. “Can’t a girl have any secrets?” you grumbled. “Ok, so Commander Spock helped me get to see the Captain and then I may have given him the impression that by turning up for his physical today he would help me win a bet with you,” you admitted, the words coming out in a rush. “Sorry Sir.” “You lied to the Captain and Spock helped you?” McCoy stared, his mouth open. “When you put it like that… well… yeah.” It sounded bad out loud. You had been too busy focussed on the end goal that you hadn’t thought much about the method. You hung your head. “And what exactly was the bet I’m supposed to have made?” “That I couldn’t get all the physicals finished by today. We bet a bottle of bourbon.” Your voice was small. “It seems like you and the Captain are always arguing about something, he seems like he enjoys getting one up on you…” you tailed off. “So let me get this straight,” he ran his hands through his hair and you looked away. “He thinks I lost a bet because of him? You used the Captain’s own competitive streak against him?” Before you could answer you were startled by a strange huffing noise coming from McCoy, which appeared to be the prelude to him throwing his head back and honest to god whooping with laughter. Too amazed to do anything, you just sat there waiting for the doctor to subside. Eventually he regained some control, and grinned at you. “Y/F/N, you are a goddamned evil genius.” McCoy shook his head. You smiled back in relief. “You know I think Commander Spock was trying to tell me something similar earlier. Chapel’s trained me well.” You winked and McCoy felt his stomach leap into his chest again. As you sat in silence he realised the sheer absurd perfection of the moment. Needing to say something before the silence got awkward he inclined his head towards the monitor behind you. “Your vitals are a little off. Do you have a headache?” You realised the biobed you were sitting on had picked up your readings. Always the doctor. You nodded. “I’ll give you a painkiller, but you need to take it easy, and get a proper meal.” He rummaged in the med cabinet. “Thanks Doctor.” You grinned mischievously. “Don’t say anything, but my commanding officer is a hardass, I’ve been working all the hours god sends lately. Crawling through Jeffries tubes after engineers just to keep him happy.” McCoy raised an eyebrow as he tilted your head to one side to expose your neck, trying to ignore how distractingly close you were and the smell of your hair as it moved. He administered the hypo gently, and rubbed the injection site. “Idiot,” he huffed. “I’ll tell your boss to give you the day off tomorrow.”

Chapel had looked at you curiously as you emerged from the exam room, but you had just mouthed ‘tell you later.’ God only knew what she thought had gone on in there. You took the doctor’s advice and went to get food from the mess. Though your shift had ended, when you were done you decided to go back to medbay and finish off the last logs for the physicals. You liked it at this time of night. It was quiet; Chapel had gone and only a skeleton staff for Gamma shift remained. M’Benga would have relieved McCoy by now. Though the lights had been dimmed for the two patients in overnight, you could see from across the room that something had been left on your workstation. As you approached, there, next to your battered old stuffed rabbit, was a bottle of bourbon. You unfolded the note attached to it and smiled. In unmistakable handwriting it simply said,‘Drink Me’. The lights were still on in the CMO’s office. You made an impulsive decision and grabbed the bottle, and a couple of clean mugs from the sink, and knocked on the door. “Enter!” You hit the release and stepped inside. McCoy sat on the couch along one wall, padd in one hand, handwritten papers discarded beside him. He always looked more approachable at the end of the day, when he was slightly rumpled. He looked up, brow furrowed. “Y/F/N, I thought you left?” “I had a couple of things to finish up.” You held the bottle up. “What’s this?” McCoy hoped that in the dim light you couldn’t see the faint flush across his cheeks. He answered gruffly, “Your winnings. A southern gentleman never welches on a bet. Even one he didn’t know he made.” “I don’t deserve it but thanks.” You shifted nervously from foot to foot. “Listen, my hardass boss gave me the day off tomorrow and I can’t drink this alone.” You waved the mugs in your other hand. “It’s not exactly classy, but have a drink with me?” You bit your lip waiting for a response. While things had changed between you and McCoy recently, he was your commanding officer and you still weren’t sure if he considered you as a friend as well as a colleague. There were probably a million reasons why it was good idea to refuse, but right now looking at your hopeful face the doctor couldn’t think of a single one. “Why not.” Pouring a couple of fingers into each mug, you smiled a little when you realised one was Stick McCoy. You handed it to the doctor and moved to sit on the other end of the couch, fussing with your skirt to be able to sit cross legged. “To the end of physicals!” You raised your drink. “And to evil genius nurses.” McCoy clinked with you and you both took a sip. He watched as you groaned in pleasure, closing your eyes and tipping your head back as the whiskey burned your throat, still wearing that damned ridiculous bow.  His eyes traced the curve of your neck.  Oh hell. There, underscored by the gentle familiar hums and beeps of medbay, McCoy finally admitted to himself that you mattered to him too much for things to ever go back to normal.

A/N: Thanks for all the lovely feedback on chapter 1! Hope its ok to tag a couple of people, I won’t be offended if you want to be removed!

@dirajunara @spookyscaryscully

[aesthetically-apocalyptic]

"Mom, Mom!"

My heart stopped and instantly a knot of fear lodged in my throat. I spun around and caught my balance, with eyes frantically seeking my son. He had taken up a nonchalant slouch against the kitchen doorway, legs crossed in well worn jeans, broad shoulders nearly filling the entry, arms folded and a smirk on his face at my reaction."James Joseph Raymond!" I nearly shouted, "You are going to give me a heart attack! You scared me halfway there" 

For no good reason, tears sprang into my eyes as I looked at the young man my son had become."Gosh, Mom, I'm sorry......mostly" He said, with a wicked little gleam in his eyes. With a sense of de ja' vu, I realized I was seeing the image of his father, superimposed on the better than six foot frame with impish blue eyes and sandy blond hair. Can't think about that, won't think about that, just not going there, for the millionth time I echoed my mantra when my thoughts would stray to his missing father."'Sup, dude.........ette?" I asked. Our little joke, but it always put him at ease to talk to me."Today is the anniversary day" He said.Yes, I knew that, who could forget? Five years. Five long, hard years. Five scary years and no word at all for two of those."Well, I am not making a cake, forget it. It's nothing to celebrate. Well, on second thought, I suppose we could be thankful we've made it this far, right?"I snagged him into a quick hug, my 17 year old man of the house turning all twitchy like young men do at that age. Old mothers embarrassing their sons are allowed, I'm sure. I teased him about his facial furnishings, yanked his too long hair, and jabbed him in the ribs, asking "How are things at the barn?""Chickens are good, that one hen is still on her ten eggs. I have to clip turkey wings again, that one old hen of yours managed to get over the fence. No, not into the garden! I checked the greenhouses, we're all good there, but I think someone has taken some firewood" He reported.My stomach turned at the thought of anyone stealing our firewood. We traded for gas and parts for the chain saw, but had none to spare for any reason, especially since I'd long since been using a wood stove year round to cook with. It was so much hard work, getting the trees down safely, then bucking them, then cutting, then dragging them home, cutting, splitting and stacking. Firewood consumed a large amount of time every year now, since buying it by the truckload was way out of our reach these days. If we had a thief, then it meant we had an unknown person or persons in the neighborhood. Ugh."Okay, Joe, here is what to do. Take the bike and go make the rounds of the men, and let them know. Ask them to come over before supper and we'll start talking sentry duty again. And Joe, take the mini 14, will you?"In a couple of minutes he was armed, a long leg thrown over the reclaimed mountain bike, and he was easing out the driveway to go resurrect the long since defunct sentry patrols and duty. As I went back to cutting up veggies for canning, I thought about the previous five years, and how far'd we come.....and gone.It had actually been over five years since I'd seen my husband, because he worked at Prudhoe Bay on a rotating shift. Two weeks on, two weeks off, regular as clockwork. After the quakes and tsunami, he'd been slated to come home but ended up staying when a bunch of guys couldn't make it back for their scheduled rotations. At the time, it was hard but something we'd get through, and it would sure help with the bills. Then came the Big One, as everyone called it. The day the Cascadia Subduction Zone let loose, or, as I called it, the day it popped. We could have (and did) handle the 8.7 on the Castle Mountain fault just six miles from my house, and the tsunami that resulted.....but add in the Cascadia pop? No way. It took all the emergency supplies for us staged on the West Coast with it.....heck, just about took the coast too. What the quake didn't smash, the tsunami's washed out to sea and poof! West Coast shipping was history in under an hour. That's about how long it took for everything else to crash along with it....the dollar, the economy, and that whole miserable ball of woes. Right after that the federal government basically ceased to function and no help came to Alaska for nearly a year.During that year, oh so long and hard for so many up here, we fared pretty well, all things considered. The house was solid, only cracked a couple windows and we had some minor damage with stuff breaking, but I'd been better set than many. They'd gotten the Nikiski refinery back on line and even today, were lightering products across the Cook Inlet since Anchorage remained basically abandoned to itself. I was still thankful the bridges came down, sealing off that threat. It didn't stop some from coming across in boats, but these days if they showed up, it was on foot-gas and diesel were strictly rationed.But I had not heard from my Kirk in nearly two years. We'd had spotty contact with the phones, and then nothing after the big solar storm. I always wondered if he was one of the casualties up there, but no one knew and it's not like I could call anyone after losing the phones anyway. At that time, he'd been set to walk the whole way, with a small group of guys who had somehow found supplies. It had been very bad up there, very bad. A lot of sickness, not much food even though they'd resorted to hunting the caribou herds for protein. I just couldn't imagine my guy being able to walk that far, given his poor knees....not over 600 miles anyway.

https://www.homesteadingtoday.com/threads/pouncers-alaskan-five-years-later-story.535760/

[samingtonwilson]

Eight Games Played - Jim Kirk

Summary: You and Jim love a good game.

Warnings: language, some fluff

A/N: i wanted to reuse the whoever gets to 10 kisses first wins game from 9 things couples do, but resisted temptation.

One

Seated at the furthest end of the bar counter, you tried not to scowl at the sticky surface your elbows were placed atop. Each time you shifted your arms, you could feel and hear the leather of your jacket peeling and rebinding to the tacky wood. You wanted to ask the bartender for the towel draped over his shoulder and a spray bottle of apple cider vinegar and olive oil— but you resisted temptation.

You swirled the gin and tonic mixture in your glass and exhaled loudly when, from your peripheral vision, you noticed someone take a seat beside you. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Aren’t we all?”

There was relief and a smile in your voice as you sighed out, “Jim.”

He leaned to the side a bit to bump his shoulder against yours, grasping your upper arm when you nearly teetered off the edge of the barstool. His eyes, still bluer than the Pacific Ocean flowing just outside and still brighter than the sun you rarely saw peeking through the thick fog, watched you in amusement. “Never in all the years that I’ve known you have you been so happy to see me.”

You hummed, smiling politely at the bartender that filled Jim’s order. “I’ve been hit-on more times than I can count in the last hour.”

“Been host to San Francisco’s finest?”

“Let’s just say you’re a gem among stones, my friend,” you mumbled into your glass, polishing off the remainder of your drink and sighing. “If another man that smells like stale whiskey and sawdust tells me to smile, I might extract each of my teeth, one by one, while he watches.”

Jim swallowed a large sip of scotch and shook his head. “Men are a nightmare.”

You picked up your left arm and heard the leather unstick, clicking your tongue before you asked the bartender for a fresh drink. “You hear that? That’s the sound of a ruined jacket.”

Jim eyed you for a moment. With a slight shake of his head, he turned to the bartender. “Can we have some lemons? Sliced would be perfect.”

You didn’t see the bartender smile knowingly and instead watched Jim curiously as he finished his drink and nodded a thank you once a small white bowl was placed before him. He sifted through the pieces until he picked one, seemingly satisfied with his choice of lemon slice, thick with a dimpled yellow rind.

He smiled at you. “We’re playing a game.”

“We’re too old to play drinking games.”

“S’not a drinking game.” He set his lemon onto the soggy napkin his drink was placed atop and undid the watch on his wrist, sliding it towards you. “This, starlight, is a game I like to call ‘Lemon Mouth.’”

You sighed heavily and unconvincingly, the smile pulling at your lips a dead giveaway. “How do you play?”

“I’m going to put this in my mouth,” he explained, picking up the lemon again, “while you time me. You’ll do the same while I time you and whoever sucks on the lemon longest wins. Okay?”

“What’s the objective here? To have the acid eat away at our tooth enamel?”

When Jim bared his teeth at you in response, you held your hands up in innocence. “Sorry, sorry,” you conceded, picking up the watch. “Go.”

His skin, smooth but littered with his signature extended-leave beard, turned various shades of pink and red as he withstood the sourness of the lemon slice he wore like a bright yellow smile. He shut his eyes at one point, his hands forming fists against the bar.

He shook his head and removed the lemon after eleven long seconds, grunting before he drank from your glass. “How long was that?” his voice was strained.

“Eleven seconds,” you replied, picking up the leftover rind. You inspected the remaining pulp and frowned in consideration. “How often do you play this?”

“Not often at all,” he replied, sliding the bowl to you in exchange for his watch. “Stopped playing a few years ago when Bones took it to the next level and ate the lemon slice whole. The man’s a fucking animal.”

You laughed as you held your lemon of choice to your parted lips. You glanced at Jim and nodded once, cramming the slice into your mouth the instant he yelled, “Go!”

Two

Chekov parties rarely offered moments of peace— and any form of cool air, for that matter. The small shore leave quarters carried the overpowering stench of vodka while the walls shook with unnecessarily loud music, there were nearly no empty spaces to be found. Clusters of your crewmates gathered around the makeshift bar area and, far from them, you occupied the lone couch which was crammed into the rightmost corner of the room with Jim at your side.

Your legs were crossed onto the thin cushion, folded so you could sit sideways and face Jim entirely. Your back sat awkwardly against an armrest while your shoulder was leant against the backrest. You smiled at Jim and held your hands before him, your palms upwards.

He held his hands mere centimeters above yours, his palms downwards. There was an irritating mischief over his features, his smirked smile provoking a competitiveness inside of you that you’d never experienced before.

Without any indication of your next move over your features, you swept your hands above his and tried to slap the backsides of his hands. You clicked your tongue when he pulled back right on time, baring your teeth.

“Get any angrier, starlight, and the couch’ll burst into flames.”

You resumed position, your hands hovering below Jim’s once more. You sighed loudly when your next attempt at slapping the back of his hands went fruitlessly. “As long as you burn with it.”

His mouth fell open in playful offense. He took his hands away for a moment to finish whatever remained of his drink. “I think that one hurt more than the slaps you haven’t landed.”

“Has anyone,” you began, your hands under his once more, “ever told you,” you watched him, staring at the blue of his eyes and tilting your head, “not to be so,” you raised your eyebrows and swept your hands up, landing a pair of loud slaps against his knuckles, “cocky? You owe me three hours in the captain’s chair.”

He stared at you with his mouth agape, his eyes wide, and his hands perfectly still.

“What?” you asked, nodding upwards with a laugh. You placed your hands before him in the way that his were previously held— palms down. You raised an eyebrow. “Your turn.”

He shut his mouth, shaking his head once. His hands hovered below yours, palms up, and he wiggled his fingers as he stared at them.

He met your gaze then. He lifted a single, thick eyebrow. “What’s my prize?”

“Up to you.”

“Go on a date with me,” he answered after a thoughtful moment. “A real one, before shore leave ends.”

The corners of your lips struggled as you fought to keep your expression neutral. You dropped all pretenses of irritation and competitiveness. “Okay.”

“How many tries do I get?”

“As many as it takes.”

Three

There was captainly tension in his posture and no Jim-like pleasantness over his features. He walked with shoulders pulled back, chest puffed out, steps heavy and commanding— even more so than usual. And he was scowling, his jaw very clenched and his eyebrows very knit together.

No one approached him. Call it a result of his body language and facial expression, sure, but it would be more accurate to call it a result of his tendency to snap as of late.

He would snap at the bridge crew, at the unsuspecting medbay crew, at the quartermaster for the firmness of his mattress. He snapped at anyone and everyone for asking simple questions, for greeting him with a simple “good morning.” He snapped at the entirety of the Enterprise, including Leonard.

“You’re lucky I know the parameters of this stupid ass bet y’all’ve got goin’,” Leonard stated, walking with much softer steps. He even wore a softer facial expression, he kept his signature scowl hidden and his brow remained unfurrowed. “I’d knock you upside the head for all-a this attitude otherwise.”

“There’s no attitude,” Jim nearly deadpanned. He frowned at the ensign that dared to smile at him. “I’m just tired.”

Leonard snorted. “Tired of bein’ celibate.”

“Celibacy I can deal with— that’s not the problem,” he sighed, shaking his head. He combed his fingers through the hair he’d spent over an hour styling just nine hours ago, hair he’d styled just to give himself something else to do, and pulled on the ends. “It’s the sleeping in the same bed, the hemlines that seem to be getting shorter and shorter. It’s the kissing me and pushing me to the edge so I feel like my genitalia is going to shrivel up and fall off unless I do something about it.”

Leonard frowned, mumbling more to himself, “A li’l graphic.”

Jim cracked a smile at that and shook his head once. He said goodbye to Leonard wordlessly and rounded the final corner he needed to make it to your quarters.

He convinced himself he could smell the devastatingly intoxicating scent of your perfume, groaning as his knuckles rapped against the door twice. “Starlight, we’ve got some talking to do.”

Your door slid open instantly and your voice was clear as you stated, “I’m listening.”

Jim stared at you— silently, almost hungrily. He watched as you leant your shoulder against the doorframe, as you crossed your arms over your chest, as you smiled at him with lips so perfectly pouty and glossed. The beating in his chest faltered at the sight of the short, short, short light blue satin robe you wore, the opening tied together with a loose bow.

He shut the mouth he didn’t realize was open, swallowing over the dryness in his throat.

You tilted your head and cocked an eyebrow. “Words, Jim.”

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he said, still staring at the soft fabric. “You’re really— You’re,” he swallowed and let his eyes trail over your bare legs. “You’re trying to kill me.”

“It’s only been, like, three weeks, right? You can’t be dying yet.” You couldn’t help your grin as he brushed past you, slamming his hand against the control panel so the door slid shut with a hiss. “What happened to that steely willpower you bragged to me about? That steely willpower that would make you last longer than me?”

“It’s been five weeks and three days,” he corrected, pulling off his command gold tunic in one swift movement. “And my willpower,” his black undershirt came off next as he toed his shoes off simultaneously, “shot itself to hell a long time ago. Take your clothes off— or whatever clothes are left, I guess.”

The second you untied your robe, his arm wrapped around your waist so you gasped as your bodies crashed together. You smiled despite your lightheadedness. “So I win?”

He combed his fingers through your hair, pupils dilated and breathing a little shallow. “Yes, you win. I can’t take this anymore.”

“Good,” you sighed out, shutting your eyes as his lips pressed to your neck. “I was about to break in, like, five minutes anyway.”

Four

Mug of coffee in one hand, half-eaten sandwich in the other, you walked into the third exam room on the left side of the hall and sighed loudly and exaggeratedly— just to get his attention, of course.

You succeeded as Leonard looked up from his PADD immediately. He placed it atop the vacant biobed and giving you his signature “What do you want?” look— eyebrows raised, nostrils slightly flared, lips pursed and turned up on one side. “Sweetheart, where I come from, we say ‘hello’ when we walk into a room. It’s high time we work on your manners.”

“The day you work on your bedside manner, I’ll turn a new leaf,” you told him, taking a bite of your sandwich and licking the crumbs from your lips. You smiled at him a bit slyly then, laughing as you asked, “Your hair looks extra voluminous this afternoon— are you trying out a new shampoo?”

“I’ll tell you what, darlin’— that boyfriend of yours wouldn’t know a good decision if it knocked him over the head with a cast iron skillet, but he sure knows his shampoos,” he snorted, shaking his head once. “Nurse Chapel told me I’m smellin’ like coconuts and sunshine and three of my physicals asked for hair advice.”

You smiled, hopping onto the biobed and taking a long sip of coffee. “How much of it is left?”

“Less than half the bottle.”

“Len!” you whined, frowning when he met your gaze. “I told you to drain most of it!”

“The shit smells too good!” he shouted back, taking the remaining fourth of your sandwich. He took a bite and spoke with a thick voice, “‘M not drainin’ somethin’ that’s got my hair feelin’ like a fuckin’ cloud and smellin’ like a fuckin’ tropical vacation.”

“If Jim realizes you’ve got his shampoo, he’ll take it back and I lose! All of the work I did to distract him with shower sex and slip it through the door when he wasn’t looking will go to waste!”

“What’s this fuckin’ game anyway? Steal the goddamn shampoo?”

You clicked your tongue. “It’s revenge. He finished the last of my favorite cereal— I was saving the final bowl for a special occasion.”

Leonard snorted. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. This is the Enterprise— shit’s always happening. No doubt I’ll get to celebrate making it out of some dire situation soon enough.” You shook your head then. “S’not the point. The point is, I can’t replicate that stuff— it was my last box from Earth, he finished it. That shampoo is from Earth, it’s his last bottle, and that shampoo is to him as my cereal is to me.”

“Two children,” he mumbled to himself under his breath. “Two idiot children.”

You laughed as you leapt from the biobed to your feet, sighing out a hum. “My next physical’s in this exam room in, like, five minutes. So scram, McCoy.”

“Who is it? I’ve got Spock in ten minutes— I’ll trade you.”

“I don’t remember,” you trailed off, looking around the room until you could spot the PADD you’d left in there before your break. “Maybe—”

As if on cue, you heard from the door, “Starlight, are you allergic to shutting doors— Bones. You’re here, too.”

Leonard nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, we’re givin’ you every vaccination we’ve got, Jim. S’a two person job considerin’ how afraid your grown ass is of a hypo—”

“His hair,” Jim stated, his head tilting as his eyes slowly left Leonard’s hair to meet your wide-eyed gaze. He inhaled deeply and cocked a thick eyebrow. “Coconuts.”

“His hair is the color of coconuts!” you said, nodding and speaking in the same voice you’d use for a puppy or infant. “Although, maybe a little darker than a coconut.”

“You! You have my shampoo!” Jim shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at his best friend. “You’re using my shampoo! Which means there’s some left!”

Before Leonard could confirm Jim’s statements, you shouted, “He drained it! I told him to drain it and he did! He just wanted to try a little! It’s gone!”

Jim smiled then— that soft, fuzzy smile that could make your knees turn to jelly, your brain turn to melting butter. He walked towards you and placed his hands on your shoulders, his blue eyes seemed to engulf you. “Starlight, he didn’t drain my shampoo. He caught a whiff of it, he knows what it can do. He’s still got some of my shampoo, it’s in his shower.”

“Jim, —”

“You know, I love you with everything I have in me— but you lose, you sucker,” he said, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. He set his hands back by his sides and began taking steps backwards. “Now, I’ll have my physical on a later date. For now, I have more pressing matters to attend to,” he stated, spinning around and bolting from the door.

Leonard ran after him, leaving you in your mildly shocked state. You could hear his shouts faintly. “Don’t you dare break into my quarters, Kirk! I’ll make you regret the day you stepped onto that goddamn shuttle in the hell-pits of Iowa!”

Five

You sat in Jim’s lap, the tips of your toes just brushing against the floor as he relaxed against one of the many chairs circling the small dining table in your shared quarters. Your chest was pressed against his, your nose bumped his whenever you leant even a centimeter forward. You could smell the apples and coffee on his breath each time he spoke.

You popped the cap from one of your nude lipsticks, the color a soft pink-brown that you usually saved for a fall day. You tilted your head as you took one of his hands from your hips and swatched the color there, swiping it below his knuckles. “Not subtle enough for the look I’m going for. We’ll decide lipstick later.”

Once you’d spread a bit of almond oil and sprayed on a little primer, you lifted a stick of foundation that you’d stolen from a crewmember with Jim’s exact skintone. You tossed the cap aside and screwed it upwards.

You bit down on your bottom lip as you swept a few lines over his cheeks, forehead, chin, and nose, taking a damp sponge and spreading the thick makeup over his skin evenly. “Do you, like, never have any blemishes or uneven tones? There’s no need for concealer or color correction on you.”

“I’m human, I do get blemishes,” he said, smiling up at you as your position boosted your seated height a few inches above his. He sighed as you continued using the sponge. “That feels nice.”

“Doesn’t it?” you asked, smiling as you leant away to check your work. “It’s so much better than using a brush. So, if you get them, how come I’ve never seen you with a blemish?”

“Dig a little deep into my bottom left drawer in the bathroom,” he told you as he watched you dig through the many colorful tubes of mascara, settling on the turquoise tube. “There’s this tinted pen-thing. It’s medicated so it ‘shrinks the blemish in just two hours’ and covers it thanks to the tint.”

You hummed with a frown of consideration, tipping Jim’s head upwards with your fingers under his chin. “Open your eyes as wide as you can. So it’s just a concealer with a pen applicator? Medicated concealer, I mean.”

As you brushed the mascara wand through his already long eyelashes, he tightened his grip on your hips and pulled you closer. “I guess. Whatever it is, it helps.”

Once you finished with his left eye, you started on his right. “Can I curl your hair next? Give you a nice George Clooney in the nineteen-eighties look.”

He laughed through his nose and let his head fall to a neutral position when you shut the tube of mascara. “Absolutely not.”

“What? Why? Clooney was a big deal a million years ago! My great, great, great, great, great, great—”

“I can already tell you, we don’t have time for you to list how many greats you’ll need for this to be even semi-accurate,” Jim snorted, shaking his head. “The deal was, I lose the bet, you do my makeup. You never said anything about hair, that was never agreed upon.”

“But, Jim, —”

“Starlight, I’d do anything for you, but if you bring a curling iron anywhere near my head, I’ll make sure I win the next bet and force you to reply only in song whenever Bones speaks to you. And we both know how much he loves your singing.”

“Christ, fine. No curling iron.”

Six

You placed your palms flat atop the bathroom counter, spreading your fingers and bringing them back together only to spread them once more. You took a deep breath and met your reflection’s gaze, your head still tipped downwards. You wanted to curl your lips up in disgust, shake your head at the sight, and walk away— but you stood there, staring at a blank image of yourself with messy hair, red eyes, and a nose scrubbed raw. You sighed.

You took your hands from the damp counter and wiped them against the towel wrapped around your body, shaking your hair out with your fingers only to groan when you realized they were just as wet again.

You walked out of the bathroom silently, the sole noise in the room that of the door as it swished shut once more. You took your uniform from the closet quickly, retrieving clean undergarments as well. You kept your eyes on the closet, on the drawers, on the surfaces that were safe, the surfaces that wouldn’t sigh and offer you a look of sympathy when you glanced their way.

You were almost hyper-aware of Jim’s gaze on you. He was just as angry, just as upset as you were, but he couldn’t help the load of it that melted away upon seeing you and your state. His sleep deprivation matched yours, his defeated posture matched yours. He wanted to drop every bit of remaining negativity and hold you to him, he wanted to tell you it would all be okay.

But he wasn’t going to break the silence first, just as you weren’t.

You slipped back into the bathroom and sighed loudly once you were sealed in, pulling your clothes on and working shortly on the rest of your appearance. You nodded at your reflection. “He’s wrong, he’s the one that’s wrong, it’s his turn.”

Maybe it was his turn— after all, the decision to deviate from every bit of his safety training, the crew’s plan for the away mission, and every bit of his goddamn common sense was his. You knew he was in the wrong, you knew he needed to apologize.

But maybe it was your turn— after all, the things you said to him about his lack of concern for his crew, his lack of concern for himself, his lack of concern for you tore through him worse than any poison soaked spear could. He knew you were wrong to hurt him that way, he knew you needed to apologize.

Once the main door slid shut behind you and you were well on your way to the medbay for your shift, Jim stood at the mirror of the bathroom. He brushed his hair without meeting the blue eyes that were filled with sorrow and regret, he brushed his teeth without meeting those same blue eyes that would have told him he was wrong with their uncharacteristic dullness.

He sighed heavily, adjusting the high collar of the command gold uniform. He shook his head at his reflection, finally meeting his eyes. “It’s not my turn. I did what I had to, I did what I should’ve. It’s not my turn.”

Neither of you wanted to lose.

Seven

You clicked your tongue absentmindedly as you walked through the cavernous halls of the Enterprise with Leonard at your side. You toyed with the corners of your PADD, you counted your steps, you tried to see how long you could hold your breath. You kept yourself busy, distracted.

“That’s gettin’ real annoying, sugar.”

You looked to your left at a scowling Leonard— a scowl more pronounced than his neutral one. “What is?”

“The constant fidgeting, the weird smilin’, the whistlin’ when you can’t carry a tune to save your life,” he grumbled, shaking his head once as he took the tablet from your hands and tucked it into his side. “Talk to him.”

“No.”

“Sweetheart, —”

You clicked your tongue in denial. “He’s wrong, Len. He can talk to himself.”

“It’s been eleven days,” Leonard said pointedly. He sighed out heavily. “Y’all not speakin’ has fucked me up so much that I’m keepin’ track of how long it’s been.”

“When I’m wrong, I apologize, I talk to him first,” you told him, your voice calm and level. “He’s wrong this time. He needs to apologize and talk first.”

“This kind-a stubborn behavior ain’t gonna get either of y’all anywhere. This isn’t one of your cute little bets on who can hold out the longest.”

“I’m not being stubborn! I’m just tired. He comes back with poison wreaking havoc on his liver and a spear that almost made him bleed out internally— I’m supposed to just be okay with that?” you asked, stopping your steps once you reached your door. “And it happens every fucking time! I don’t get a break from worrying about him.”

Leonard shifted on his feet. “You and I know he knows what he’s doing— he’s always got a plan.”

“He should tell me one of ‘em next time so I can get a break from crying myself into dehydration.” You leant against the wall beside you and crossed your arms over your chest. You sighed to calm yourself down. “He just— It feels like he’s careless about his own life, like he needs to trade it for a good outcome each time something goes wrong.”

“You know that isn’t how it is. He does what he thinks is right. We just can’t see it from his mustard yellow point of view.”

“I don’t know— I want to stop worrying, I want to stop yelling, I want it all to just stop for a minute.” You shrugged a single shoulder. “If there was a way to stop feeling like he’s giving my life away each time he thinks about doing something that could lead to him giving his, I’d take it.”

“Be careful, sugar,” Leonard mumbled as he took steps away from the door. “That sounds like the end of somethin’.”

The door seemed to slide open slower once you’d punched in the code, the room’s dimness comforting as you took a step inside. You almost spun around to take your PADD from Leonard but sighed and shook your head instead— you wouldn’t be getting work done anyway.

You ignored Jim’s presence on the couch until he spoke, the zipper on your left boot halfway down when you froze completely. “Starlight, you win. Please talk to me.”

Eight

You pulled on the first item of clothing you could find, sighing at the black t-shirt that boasted a hem which fell to the middle of your thighs. You pulled the sleeves to your elbows and stretched your arms above your head as you walked from the disheveled bed, the icy temperature of the sealed concrete floors sending a shiver up your spine.

You walked through the halls and living room leading to the kitchen, smiling at Jim when you caught his eye. You took the mug of coffee he offered you as you approached him and bumped your hip against his. “I should go. I have plans for lunch with Hikaru and Nyota in,” you trailed off as you glanced at the clock on the wall. “Fuck, in two hours.”

“Two hours is plenty of time.”

You snorted, hopping onto the counter and swinging your legs as you drank from your mug. “I can’t show up to lunch unshowered with my only excuse being that I stayed at my ex-boyfriend’s place for too long.”

“Ex-boyfriend is such an ugly word,” he frowned, leaning against the edge of the counter. “I prefer ‘guy you’re in love with that you won’t take back.’”

“Who said I’m still in love with you?”

“You don’t have to say it, starlight,” he told you with a smile, pushing at your shoulder. “You forget we dated for almost two years. This little game of denial is useless.”

You handed him your coffee when he motioned to it, watching him take a few sips. “S’not a game. And it makes no difference if I’m in love with you. You’re too much for me.”

“But you’re still spending some nights with me?”

You shrugged. “I’m easing myself off— slowly. Lessens the risk of withdrawal symptoms.”

He laughed through his nose, setting the mug down and sighing a moment later. “You know, I don’t mind being friends— we were friends before we started dating and I’ll take what I can get. But this, this having you three nights a week and telling myself I don’t have you for the rest of it—” he shook his head. “Aren’t you tired? This isn’t draining you?”

“I am, but—”

“We can take all of this slowly again— start over. I’ll take less risks, I’ll do what I have to.” He hit your knee with his knuckles lightly and you spread your legs so he could step between them. He looked at you with a smile while you stared at him with an open mouth. “If you don’t want that, we can be friends. But those are the only options I’m comfortable with.”

He nodded upwards when you stayed silent. “Start over with me.”

[words-writ-in-starlight]

You did Nyota for the headcanon ask meme, can you do Bones?

Headcanon meme.  Bones is my one true saltmate, okay, it’slike a soulmate but with bitterness about the world.  Also, this is a little bit gonna be the Jim& Bones Friendship Hour.

A: what I think realistically

Bones actually has a very real phobia ofspace.  Like, he manages it.  He does a good job managing it.  But.

Listen.

In order to successfully graduateStarfleet Academy, every student must take and pass a shuttle piloting class.  In case of emergency.  Pass proficiently,not just scrape by on a wing and a prayer. Bones fails twice and scrapes that pass the third time and honestly he’sthinking about just giving up.  He knowsall the settings and controls—Jim drilled him silly after that first fail—but gettinginto the simulator and seeing all that black, and the pressure, he just.  He locksup.  It’s all he can do to control hisbreathing, never mind controlling the shuttle. He can’t go back to Georgia and he can’t do this and where does that leave him?

Jim finds Bones in a tiny-ass little barthe day before his fourth retest date and drags him protesting out the door,about eight whiskeys down, and bundles him into bed and listens to him mumbleabout how he’s never going to pass and he’s never going to graduate andhonestly fucking good because spaceis the worst and Jim’s crazy for wanting to go there but also Jim’s going to gointo space without him and Bonesdoesn’t have anywhere else to go and it’s all just really awful, you know whatI mean, Jimmy?

“Sure, buddy,” Jim says, propping Bonesup and pushing a glass of water into his hands. “Drink something, okay?”

The next day, at 1500 hours, Bonesstumbles into the simulator room with—well, not the worst hangover of his life, but probably top ten.  And lo and fucking behold, instead of the usual gaggle of students looking to (re)test,there’s James Goddamn Kirk, hands stuffed in his pockets and a sunny-ass smileon his smart-ass face.  James GoddamnKirk, who passed his pilot’s test with glowingscores on the first try.

James Goddamn Kirk, who somehow lied andcheated his way in here so that he could sit in the simulator while Bonessweats his way through a passing grade.

It doesn’t cure his phobia, obviously,but the first time Bones doesactually have to pilot a shuttle, it’s James Goddamn Kirk bleeding out in the copilot’sseat and Bones barely even notices his heart race.

B: what I think is fucking hilarious

Leonard McCoy, day one of his term atthe Academy as he stumbles, shaking and panting, off the shuttle, swears to himselfthat he’s going to pry this blue-eyed limpet off him on the spot and alsosedate anyone who addresses him as Bones.

Day one of his second year at theAcademy, Bones McCoy gets half-tackled by Jim, who’s already talking about this badass new Tactics class they’reoffering, I’m gonna take it and I’m gonna destroy everyone, it’s gonna beawesome and he has no idea how this happened.

What would have been day one of hisfourth year, Bones is fuck knows howfar into the black of space, listening to his crew tattle on Jim’s delinquentass.

“Doc, I don’t think he’s taken an offshift in, like, a couple days maybe,” Sulu says as he passes through for anantihistamine.

“I’ll work on it,” Bones says, and jabsSulu with a hypo.  “Stop poking plantsyou don’t recognize.”

“Doctor McCoy, Alpha shift told me totell you that the captain forgot to eat today,” Chekov reports, sticking hishead inside.  “Can I get another screen?”

“I’ll deal with that,” Bones says, andwaves the kid in.  “Stop sleeping withpeople you don’t know.”

“Doctor, I would appreciate it if youintervened in the Captain’s opinion that holodeck safety protocols areoptional,” Spock says evenly as Chapel checks him for broken ribs.

“I’ll do my best,” Bones says, and givesSpock a bitter wave with the medical tricorder. “Stop getting in fistfights,you have a damn phaser.”

“Doctor,” Uhura starts as Bones sprintspast her.  “I think the Captain might beallergic--”

“I’m on my way!” he yells back over hisshoulder.  “Stop Spock from causing adiplomatic incident!”

“Doc,” Scotty starts, leaning into themedbay and squinting painfully.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Bones snarls,and gives Scotty a vengeful jab with a hangover hypo (actually a calibrated mixof thiamine, folic acid, and magnesium sulfate, but listen, it’s a hangoverhypo) as he marches past toward the bridge.

Bones has Regrets.

C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends

Bones keeps expecting to get to a pointwhere he’s…like…past being horrified and shocked when one of the crew rolls in,near death or already dead.

It wears on his soul like acid, everytime.  He decides very early that he’sgoing to leave Starfleet when Jim dies.  Thelonger he spends on the Enterprise, the more names he adds to that list (whenSpock dies, when Uhura dies, when Chekov-Sulu-Scotty dies).

Bones is a doctor, not anadventurer.  He’s not built to outlivethese people.  When they are gone, he will never leave orbit again.

D:  what would never work with canon but the canon isshit so I believe it anyway

Read an AU once where Bones was ahumanitarian aid volunteer at like 21/22 who went to Tarsus IV and met furious,half-starved, 13-year-old, fresh-off-a-genocide JT Kirk and it was my favoritething.  It was also abandoned after liketwo chapters.  But like.  Any intersection of my infinite feelingsabout Tarsus IV and my infinite feelings about Bones & Jim (& Spock)friendship is My Favorite Thing and I believe in my heart that this is true.  Bones didn’t recognize him at the time and ittakes him years to connect the emaciated murderous kid with the electric blueeyes to his buoyantly brilliant best friend, but he does, eventually.  He asks Jim straight up, very late one night,and they have one single conversation about it before they vow to never discussit again.

[trekkin-bubblegum]

A change of scenery (part one)

It took me a lot to write this so I hope you enjoy.

I dedicate this to my wonderful mum

Warnings: none I don’t think

pairing: none yet 

 “His daughter is a mermaid, but approach her with caution. Her mind swims at depths most would drown in”

“you just have to hope Scotty won’t be sitting day after day, year after year saying, ‘I love you’ before kissing her headstone”

“you read the file then”

“of course, I did, like the rest of the crew I, will be responsible for her health, also when I found out scotty had a daughter I couldn’t not read the file, I mean why wouldn’t he say something”

“he was sworn to secrecy by Starfleet, he almost got condemned for it”

“because he fell in love?”

 “he fell in love with a woman from the 20th century, doctor”

“I thought his daughter was born in the 21st”

“yes, but her mother was born in the 1960s, the girl was born in the year 2000”

“the girl has a name its (Y/N) (Y/L/N) born on the (Y/B/D) 2000”

“I know we clarified that doctor”

“when does she come aboard?”

“we pick her up from star base six in a few hours, she has been in our time for about six months”

“they deemed her immune system strong enough, but I will be giving her a fully physical just to make sure”

“bones, bones you need to give the girl a chance, she’ll be absolutely terrified, remember she did lose her mother not that long ago, her mother died in an invisible war one of the first victims of that attack”

“not before innocence”

“what do you mean by that?”

“the first victim of war is innocence, especially when it is an invisible war, how could people live like that, how could people go to work on a train and know that a terrorist could attack them it’s not even like attacks were rare they happened just about every month”

“why don’t you ask the girl”

“she’s been through enough without me pestering her”

“I thought you were going to give her a physical?”

~

My eyes bore into the ceiling above, a whir of a tricorder next to my head and talking from the doctor next to me, but I found myself a little too distracted my mind kept going back to the night my mother died, it was the first night I finally understood why people fear silence and at that moment when I saw the life leave her beautiful eyes it was at four years old I realised that none of us are immortal.

My mother has always told me that my father was a solider but he had to leave to go to war and only a flag came back. But when my mother died, I almost died too. The straight line is the most terrifying thing I have experienced.

Losing my mother made me think that if I take a deep breathe will I breathe clean air, or will my lungs be filled with chemical gas and children will die around me. When you lose someone like I did these questions, I don’t believe in God, used to but how can I love anyone if I am going to lose them, I will never love this man who is my dad. He left me in my time of need, didn’t even come to see me sent people in uniforms, from the federation, how can I love someone that who for all my life I had never known.

~

“energize”

There she stood. A small girl with mousey brown hair at waist that was done in thick braids, big brown eyes peeked out from thick eyelashes, she kind of looked like scotty but it really was only the eyes.

“good afternoon, Miss Scott, unfortunately your father has been caught up in engineering so Mr Spock, Doctor McCoy and I will conduct a tour of the ship when you are ready, but first we will show you to your quarters”

“thank you, sir”

Smiling at her Scottish accent I helped her down of the transporter pad, I looked to Bones who was studying her.

“this way” she smiled faintly at me and Bones ever the southern gentleman put his arm out to her which she took, just got to hope we don’t run into Mr Scott along the corridor.

Taking in her clothing I quickly realised it was Starfleet transportation uniform with a green stripe on the sleeve, which is the standard civilian uniform colour if being transported between space stations or ships.

“These will be your quarters they connect with your fathers we do hope you will be comfortable in your draw you will find some clothes that communications officer Uhura, nurse Chapel and yeoman Rand, who you meet later, we will leave you for now to get settled, your father will be along shortly”

“thank you, Sir”

After leaving her quarters I turned to Spock and McCoy. “so, what do we reckon?”

“what do you mean, Jim” chuckling at Spock’s inability to understand a human question.

“what he means by that Mr Spock, is what we think of the girl”

“yes, Doctor I understood the context quite clearly”

“then why ask the question”

“gentlemen, gentlemen all I did was ask a question” I said getting into the lift

“she seems nice, doesn’t say much though”

“Doctor, although I am not familiar with human emotions I can understand that she will be nervous and or scared by all of this”

“Spock, look here I am a doctor I’m now her doctor, so stop trying to be her physiologist”

“doctor, I sim-“

“bridge”

“simply was explaining what she must be feeling, I am a Vulcan not a Betazoid I cannot possible know what she is thinking”

Spock finished the conversation and went to his station, probably realising that some mediation would be happening tonight. One-nil to Bones, he lent on the back of the chair chuckling.

“Mr Scott” I said over the communicator

“aye sir”

“your daughter is on board and in your new quarters”

“thank you, sir, if you don’t mind I was going to finish up here”

“of course, Mr Scott, you are off duty tomorrow”

Smiling to myself I cut off the communication.

 ~

I stood in the middle of my new room it was a reasonable size there was a sort of living room area which had a table and chairs then through a small door way was a bed, a wardrobe, a desk with what looked to be a computer and next to it a small book shelf already filled with classics and some textbooks. Through another door leading of my room was a small bathroom with a shower, toilet, sink and vanity table peeking in the draws I found some makeup and jewellery and in a draw below that was an arrangement of soaps, deodorants and perfumes. Walking back though to my room area I peaked in the wardrobe there were a couple of dresses and jump suits, including the green Starfleet civilian transportation uniform. Sighing I sat down on the bed, looking over to the desk I spotted a piece of paper.

“dear Miss Scott,

Welcome aboard the USS Enterprise, before you get fully settled there are some rules which you must pay attention to as this is an on-duty government vessel.

1.       There are restricted areas on the ship and we ask that you pay attention to this unless you have permission from myself, the Captain.

2.       If someone ask for you over ships communication, you must acknowledge.

3.       It will be at your father’s discretion what punishment you are given if you break any rules, unless it is severe then it will be either first officer Spock or myself.  

4.       We do not mind your choice of clothing but please make sure it is appropriate, please follow this if a planet dignitary if coming aboard the ship.

5.       Unless stated by the person you must refer to them by rank and last name for example first officer/ lieutenant commander Spock.

6.       Please respect that shift work takes place on the ship so some people may be sleeping at different times

7.       By law of the federation you must have at least four hours a day of schooling by a Starfleet tutor

8.       If an alarm sounds please contact the bridge to let us know where you are if yellow alert sounds make your way to either the bridge or your quarters, if red alert or battle stations sounds make your way to sickbay and intern Doctor McCoy’s office and wait until further instructions from a senor crew member (lieutenant-commander and above).

We hope that you have a pleasant time on the enterprise for more information on rules and regulations please see the book on your book shelf titled ‘United Federation of Planets: rules and regulations of an on-duty Star Ship’.

Yours sincerely

Captain James T. Kirk

U.S.S Enterprise

Placing down the piece of paper I looked up at the wall and saw a clock I saw the time was 12:20 pm. I walked into the bathroom I went to take a shower this was all a little too much to handle.

After stepping out I got dressed and walked into my room where I saw a hunched figure in a red shirt sitting on my bed.

“um hello?”

“oh! sorry I dinnae mean tae startle you- “

“are you Mr Scott, my dad”

“yes lass, how do you do?”

“I’m” my voice cracked and I was so overcome with emotion I could no longer speak.

“hey, come here” he said pulling me into his arms and suddenly the man who I didn’t think I could love was gone and my father was holding me, crying into his chest he just held me.

Pulling away from him I got a good look at his face. I think I saw a man who I had known my entire life, but I knew it wasn’t true studying his face through my tears I saw a man who looked surprisingly venerable, he had wrinkles mapping out his eyes and corners of his mouth. You could tell he needed a shave and a haircut and that’s when I realised it is because of me as soon as he was informed I was alive or informed he has a daughter, he was probably going mad with wanting to meet me. For months now I had been thinking about him, criticizing him, but he didn’t deserve any of my insults that I had for him because he is my father and I’m not all.

[trade-baby-blues]

Pairing: Bones/Jim/Reader Friendship

Word Count: 1597

Warnings: hella angst, mentions of depression, swearing

A/N: I’ve been in a bad headspace the past few days and I hoped writing would help (it did a little) ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You'd been on the Enterprise too long now, and you were starting to feel it weighing you down despite the lightness of the artificial gravity. You had hoped your last shore leave would help center you again, but you took it in Yorktown, and the fake sun did little to warm the chill that seemed permanently settled in your bones. Where you used to marvel at the advancement of technology, you shunned it now, wishing more than anything to feel the old Earth’s sun on your face and its grass between your toes.

Everyone told you you were lucky to be stationed on the Enterprise - especially for a five year mission. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Something that has never been attempted before in Starfleet history. You were a part of something bigger now, and you weren't sure you wanted to be. You missed your friends, your family. You missed so much.

I’m lucky, you told yourself. There are cadets who dream of serving on the Enterprise, or even getting a chance to talk to Captain Kirk, let alone be friends with him. You're lucky. Still, as you pulled on your yellow dress uniform, you didn't feel lucky. You felt tired.

Jim noticed something was off right away. You were late that morning, only by a few minutes, but he couldn't remember it ever happening before.

“My delinquent behavior finally rubbing off on you,” he smiled, trying to lighten your mood. You hummed in response, not taking your eyes off your work station. You missed Jim’s smile falter behind you. He tried periodically to keep you entertained, to pull even a little chuckle from you, but nothing seemed to work, and your shift ended with Jim considerably flustered. He expressed his concerns to Bones, who called you in for an exam that you promptly ignored.

It's nothing, you messaged Bones back. I’m fine, doll. xo. Easier to fake it through a message. You knew Bones would be too busy to check up on you with the last bout of flu that quarantined a good chunk of the ship.

The next morning, you woke to a message on your PADD saying Jim had given you the day off. You were flying through empty space, and he was confident Sulu could handle it on his own while Chekov recovered in Medbay. You immediately replicated yourself some hot chocolate and curled up in a cocoon of blankets with your favorite book. You got through almost ten pages before you realized you weren't even reading it. You sighed and set the book aside, staring at the walls instead. It felt like they were closing in on you.

When you took another sip from your cocoa, it was cold. You couldn't quite say how long you’d been sitting there, but, judging by the cramps in your legs, it must've been a couple hours. You tied your hair up in a messy bun and pulled out an old Starfleet sweater and a pair of joggers, feeling sick at the yellow of your uniform, and walked up to the bridge.

Jim studied you with a worried look set deeply into his features. He'd never seen you out of uniform on the ship unless you were in your quarters. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

You nodded back at him, not having the energy to speak. Before he could say anything else, you climbed onto his lap, curling up against his chest. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and held tightly to the front of his shirt.

He rubbed your lower back with one hand, bringing the other up to brush the hair from your face. “What's wrong?”

“Bored and lonely,” you mumbled, shifting slightly so you could see out the viewing window. You caught a few worried glances from some of the other crew members and your throat started burning. You focused on the blackness of space, letting the emptiness fill you and take you to sleep.

You woke up in Medbay, the soft beeping of the bio bed urging you awake. You were curled up under a blanket, trying to figure out how you got there when you heard voices outside.

“I’m telling you Bones, there's something wrong.”

“And I’m telling you Jim I’ve run every damn scan I can think of and there's not, so unless she can tell me her symptoms I’m letting her go. I have patients who actually need that bio bed.

The door slid open as you approached it, and Bones and Jim looked at you sheepishly. Jim started to say something but you cut him off. “I’m not fucking sick, James.” You didn't even look at Bones, storming out of Medbay and back to your room.

You wished more than anything that you could slam the door, but all you could do was punch in your code and bolt inside, tears already blurring your vision. You felt like you were caving in on yourself, like you couldn't breathe. You locked your door before bolting to the bathroom and dry heaving into the toilet. A sob wracked your body next, and you pressed your face against the cool rim of the toilet seat, trying to get some grounding while the room spun around you.

You're a nuisance. A goddamn waste of space. Another sob. You heard how annoyed Bones was. Probably sick of you showing up all the time when nothing’s wrong with you.

“I’m not a waste,” you mumbled back. “They're my friends. They're my friends.”

Some friend you are yelling at Jim like that.

“I’m trying.” You cradled your knees to your chest, crying into your arms. You just wanted your head to shut up. There was so much noise. So much static.

You stayed like that long after the crying stopped, working up the energy to eat something. The thought alone made your stomach turn, so you punched in for some tortilla chips and ate them plain, sitting on the ground with your back to the wall. You heard knocking on the door but ignored it, eyes focused on studying a stain on the floor a few feet away. You crunched the chips absently.

“Y/N,” a voice at your side said firmly. You jumped, looking up to come eye to eye with Bones.

“Jesus, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Bones furrowed his brow. “Y/N I’ve been standing here damn near five minutes. Have you heard anything I said?”

Your gaze dropped back to the floor as your inner monologue whirred back to life. Fuck up. Fuck up. Fuck up. With nothing to say, you popped another chip into your mouth.

Bones watched you for a moment before walking over to your replicator. “You should get some real food in you. Something healthy.”

“Shouldn't you be with the patients who are ‘actually sick’,” you snapped, mimicking him. And you wonder why no one likes you. You chomped hard on a chip, drowning out the voice.

Bones sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That's not what I meant by that, Y/N.”

“But I’m not sick, so why should I be there? I’m the picture of perfect health. I’ve got a perfect job, perfect friends, and a perfect fucking life. I should be the happiest person in the whole goddamn ‘verse.”

“But you're not.” A fact, not an accusation. Then silence. You let the comment weigh on you, losing the energy to even chew.

“No.”

Bones sighed and slid down the wall next to you. He fiddled with his hands, not quite sure what to do next. In your time knowing each other, you don't think you've ever seen him nervous before. You leaned over and put your head on Bones’ shoulder. He shifted to wrap an arm around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The two of you sat like that in silence until Bones finally found the words he needed.

“I went through your file,” he confessed. You tensed under his gaze but said nothing. “You have a history of depression, unmedicated. Is that what this is?” He motioned to your attire and the chips in your lap.

You shrugged. “Probably.”

“I want to help.”

“You can't.”

“I know I’m a doctor not a shrink, but I can still prescribe medication. We can start you with a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor, see if that helps with your symptoms. If not, we can try some other medication when we get back to base.”

You shook your head. “I don't want medication.”

“Sugar, I know it's scary but it's tried and true. The best way to combat depression is a mix of talk therapy and medication, and since you're already not talking we’ve got to start somewhere.”

You shook your head again, chest tightening. “People will say I’m crazy,” you choked out.

“They won't,” Bones said, stroking your hair. “And even if they did Jim and I’d kick their asses.” You remained quiet. Bones pulled you up on his lap, wrapping both arms around you and burying his face in your neck. “You know we love you, kid, right? We’re always here if you need to talk. About anything - even if it's just about how shitty the damn replicators are.” You let out a chuckle at that, and Bones smiled against your shoulder, squeezing you gently.

“I know, Bones.” You held him tightly, breathing in the scent of pine beneath layers of the sterile smell that came with Medbay. For the first time in a few days, your mind was quiet.

Tags: As always, tags are open. Let me know if you want in/out

@outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @yourtropegirl @trekken81 @feelmyroarrrr @yukki-art @atari-writes @pabegay1 @daybreak96 @8bit-arc-reactor @jimtkirkisabitch @the-witching-hours12-3

[captainjimsexypantskirk]

Toddler Shenanigans

(ooh I chose a new picture you guys! Still not mine though)

Rating: Everyone

Characters: Bones, Reader, Daughter, Sulu,

Summary: Reader is at the end of her rope. She is stressed and is dealing with depression and needs a break from being mom. Bones pulls some strings and saves the day, then is a fantastic husband. Just fluff and happiness.

Warnings: depression mention, emotional breakdowns, couple argument, stressful, temper tantrums, toddler time! UNEDITED

Tags: @yourtropegirl

Author’s note: Just another part of my parenthood series. I may end up making a series for kirk as a parent too, but I haven’t decided. Also, what should I call this series because these random parts are starting to bother my ocd.

 Part 1   Part 2

 As you sat at your desk in the quarters you shared with your family, Violet was rummaging through a random drawer. She had just reached the 16-month-old mark, and had started to walk. In other words, she had become a handful. Over the past year, you have gone from an engineering officer to a communications officer. Back at the academy you had insisted on having a double major. Most thought that you were insane for wanting additional work, but it made you extremely valuable to the enterprise. After the birth of Violet, and after your maternity leave, you had requested a job transfer. Leonard had convinced you that being down with Scotty all day was going to put him in an early grave. Captain Kirk saw the request and did something even better, he gave you a job you could accomplish from your quarters so that you could spend all day with your daughter.

Of course, there were many advantages to spending every day with your daughter. You never missed a milestone, and your bond with her was stronger than you would have ever imagined; but there were disadvantages as well. These didn’t become apparent until she had aged more and became more independent. Now she threw fits, and screamed when she didn’t get her way. She could walk and get into things you never had to worry about before. Just a few days prior, she had snuck into Leonard’s dresser and put his shirt on. As cute as it was, you had to work and she was being very distracting.

This day was no different. You were in the middle of translating and filing messages and other documents while Violet was going through every drawer she could open. You had already had to stop working several times to help her when she had fallen, or to keep her from getting into something that could result in her getting injured. Each time you stopped her, she flung herself to the ground and wailed. The tantrum would last anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour, but you just had to let her cry.

“Mama! ‘ook!” She said, trying to get you to look at whatever object she was holding. You groaned and continued to type.

“That’s nice sweetie. Give mama just one more second” You said as you saved your translation and turned away from the device. Before you could fully turn and find where she stood you heard a concerning sound.

“Oh, owwie. Mama!” She yelled, her voice starting to shake as she walked to you, holding a steak knife in her hand. “Mama!” She yelled again and you saw a gash on her hand.

“Vi! Baby!” You gasped and took the knife from her then looked at the gash. As the blood started to heavily flow, Violet started to panic. “It is okay baby. Let’s go find Dada hmm?” You picked her up quickly and put a clean towel in her hand before rushing her to medical.

“Leo! Leonard, god damnit where are you?” You yelled and a nurse jumped. She moved to you quickly and Bones came out from behind a closed curtain.

“Mrs. McCoy, let me take her. What happened?” She asked calmly and you put your hand on your forehead.

“I don’t know. I was working, she had a knife.” You started and Bones then rushed over to your daughter who was sobbing on the biobed in front of you.

“A knife?! Y/N! How did you not notice her getting into the kitchen utensils?!” He yelled, obviously worried and caught off guard. He was always grumpier when he was feeling protective. You looked at him in shock and you felt our stomach and chest fill a dark and crushing emotion.

“I don’t know Leonard! I have to work too and I am stuck in there all day. She gets into everything. I was almost done. Almost!” You yelled back and the nurse looked between the both of you.

“Doctor. Can you please inspect the wound? I think I will be able to patch her up and get her back home. You two need to talk elsewhere, this isn’t helping little miss Vi.” She said and you both looked at her.

“Dada! Dada!” Violet pulled her hand from the nurse and tried to make her way to Leonard.

“I got this. Can you show my wife the way out? I will talk to her later” He spoke to the nurse as if you weren’t even in the room. He had never treated you this way. You just stood there in shock and the nurse looked to you.

“I got it… make sure she gets a sticker after please?” You whispered and walked quickly out of medical. You looked around, feeling your chest tighten as cries threatened to come out. You spotted a random closet and moved to hide in it. You put your hand over your chest and took a few deep breaths before letting out a quiet sob.

He knew you had been struggling. Being a mother and a member of Starfleet was far more challenging that you had anticipated. Just a short few weeks after you got back to work, you started to show signs of depression. You no longer read as a hobby, or found joy in old activities. You worked, and then took care of Violet, there was nothing else. Bones knew this, but instead of pushing on the subject he simply picked up the slack around your quarters.

After few minutes of sobbing to yourself, your communicator went off. It was a message from Leonard telling you that he had Violet for the rest of the day. Your heart sank more and you calmed yourself before slowly making your way to your quarters. Once you arrived, you looked around at the messy living space and felt numb. Slowly you went around and cleaned the space till it was spotless, then you went to your bedroom and laid down. You brought your knees to your chest and just waited. The day seemed so empty without Violet.

~~

As you left medbay, guilt set in. He didn’t mean to be so harsh towards you, he spoke without thinking. Violet watched you leave and then proceeded to cry harder. Bones watched her as tears fell down her cheeks. She looked so much like you when she cried, and it pulled at his heartstrings.

“Alright little sunshine” He started and wiped her cheeks before he sat on the biobed and pulled her into his lap. “Let’s get you all better and then we will see what we can do for Mama. Sound good?” He whispered and rocked her gently as a nurse brought him everything he would need. “You have been giving Mama a run for her money, and I think she just needs a night to herself.” He whispered as he cleaned Violet’s wound and then took her to a regenerator.

“Mama?” Violet asked and Bones smiled.

“Yes, your Mama. Now” He smiled once her treatment was finished and he put a sticker on her polka-dot shirt. “We need to go to the bridge” He said and Violet’s eyes lit up. She always loved seeing her uncle Jim and everyone else.

~~

Leonard quickly moved through the hall to the turbo lift. Once to the bridge he sat Violet down and she ran in squealing. She quickly made her way to Jim and lifted her arms.

“Uhh! UH!” She said and he laughed, pulling her up and into his lap. He looked at her hand that was still wrapped for precaution and raised a brow.

“Uh, Bones? Whats this? Why is my precious little niece injured?” He asked and then tickled her tummy which made her giggle happily.

“Usual toddler shenanigans. Anyways, I uh I have a favor to ask. Can you watch her tonight? I have a feeling that Y/N needs a break. She seemed pretty frazzled when she brought Violet in.” Bones spoke quietly and Jim kept his eyes on Violet as he spoke.

“I uh…” Jim started and then looked at Bones with a soft smile.

“You have plans. Typical” He grumbled and Sulu used the opportunity to spin around. He beamed at Bones and Bones raised a brow in response. “Mr. Sulu? Is there something you would like to say?” He asked

“Yes Doctor, there is. I have plenty of experience with toddlers, as Demora is older than Violet, and I am free this evening.” He said with a bright smile. Violet looked at Sulu and wiggled away from Jim to run over to him. Sulu picked her up with ease and held her gently. “We could watch movies, and have a good time. Plus, I am needing a baby fix.” He finished and Leonard nodded.

“Well Mr. Sulu, I am going to have to take you up on that offer. Come pick her up from medical when you finish your shift?” He asked and Sulu nodded in agreement before letting Leonard pick Violet back up. “Thank you” He said and Sulu waved him away, there was no need to thank him.

“Bye bye!!!” Violet yelled and waved to the crew, which cause smiles and waves to come from every member before Bones took her to the turbo lift, and eventually back down to medical.

~~

You stayed in bed for the rest of the day. You couldn’t bring yourself to even get up to grab water. It must have been 4 hours since you last saw Leonard. Ever since you came back from your break down in the hall, you had been thinking constant negative thoughts. What if you were an irresponsible mother? Was this going to be the breaking point in your marriage? Were you to blame for Violet getting hurt? Did Leo think you were a bad mother?

All these questions floated through your mind, even as the doors to your quarters opened. You looked towards your bedroom door but didn’t hear Violet at all. The silence made you sit up and go to the main living space.

“Vi?” You asked and Leonard stood at the door, alone, with flowers from Sulu’s personal collection in his hands.

“Sulu has her for the night. Y/N, listen” He started and you looked to the ground.

“I’m sorry I’m a bad mother” You cut him off and he dropped the flowers on an end table before he walked quickly to you. He stood in front of you and reached to tuck his index finger and thumb under your chin. You let out a quiet sob and the events from earlier came to mind.

“Y/N. Darlin’” He said and gently pulled your chin up so you looked at him. He moved to cup your cheeks and wiped the tears away. “You are not a bad mother. I know you have been struggling, and I haven’t been providing you with the support you need. I am so, so sorry that I reacted the way I did today. My god woman, seeing you so frazzled, and seeing Violet so scared, I didn’t know what to do.” He said and you blinked away tears as you looked up at him. “Y/N, you are an amazing mother. You have been there constantly, you have put part of yourself to the side just so you can cater to her every need.” He continued to speak and you sniffed hard, leaning into his hand.

“Oh Leonard” You responded and moved to hug onto him and he held you tight. “I’m sorry I have been so “

“None of that. You don’t need to apologize. Things happen, kids get hurt. I want to help you more. I want you to feel like you can be you again, not just a mom.” He spoke gently and moved to pet your hair gently as you leaned against his chest. “I love you so much Y/N” He whispered and placed a tender kiss to your hair.

“I love you too Leonard.” You said with a soft smile. You looked up at him again and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss against your lips.

“Now, get that perfect ass on the couch, I am going to prep dinner while you read the new book I got you” He said and handed you a wrapped hardcover book with a soft smirk on his lips.  

“Yes, my love” You replied with a smile and moved to curl up on the couch. Things were looking like they were about to get just a tiny bit easier.

[redneonmoons]

Mechanical Heart {Star Trek} {3}

Word Count: 1828 Edited by: @karasong (Part 1)(Part 2)

“What is your preferred drink?” asked Nurse Traxler.

“Tea.  Raspberry leaf.” I replied, walking over to the single table, sitting down and pulling up a PADD.

“Coming right up.” She smiled.

I smiled back and looked down to type into my personal account.  Once I was in I checked my file.  My face fell as I looked at what changed, or what didn’t change.  I wasn’t reported missing or taken prisoner.  Forall Starfleet knew I was still working on that ship.

“Something wrong, Mystie?” Questioned Traxler, handing me my drink.

“Yeah,” I replied, taking a sip of the tea, “I’m looking at my file and it says I’m still working on that ship.  They didn’t even report me missing.”

“You’re looking at your file now?” Traxler asked, sitting down across from me.

I looked up at her, “Well, I couldn’t do it at the Medbay.  Too crowded.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Report to Starfleet,” I said, shrugging.

“You should, but doesn’t that mean the captains of each vessel would have to talk about it to Starfleet?  And you have to give a statement.”

“Yes.  I’ll talk to Captain Kirk tomorrow.  Get my old captain’s record tainted.”

“Sounds good,” Traxler replied, finishing her drink, “I’m going to bed.  Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” I said, taking another sip.

I looked at a few more things on my PADD and finished my tea.  Yawning, I got up and walked over to my bed.  Once I got in I fell asleep instantly.

~~~

I woke up with a start; sweat dripping down my forehead.  Another nightmare.  The same nightmare.  Well, almost.  Chekov was there this time… being cut up with me.  This nightmare is more uncomfortable than the last.

“Are you okay, Mystie?” Asked the nurse, worry plainly written on her face, “You were saying Chekov’s name a lot.”

“Another nightmare… he was in it this time.” I said, getting up, “Do you know where Chekov is?”

“No,” She replied, “Why?”

“I just need to see him.” I said, walking over to the computer, “Computer, where is Ensign Chekov?”

“Ensign Chekov is in Room 1989.”

“Oh, that is right next door.” Commented nurse Traxler.

“Good,” I said, walking out of the room.

I turned to room 1989 and pushed the doorbell.  I heard scrabbling and a crash followed by some swear words in Russian.  Once the door opened and I saw Chekovby:I jumped to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.  The force nearly knocked us to the ground, but we were able to keep standing.

“Are you okay?” Asked Chekov, concerned.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, realized that he apparently didn’t have time to put a shirt on.

“You coming here zays somesing different,” Chekov replied.

“I had another nightmare,” I paused, “and you were in it this time.”

“Oh.”

I looked up at him.  His face showed his worry.  His lips seemed very tempting now.

“Hmmmm,” I hummed, cocking my head.

“Vhat?”

“Your lips are very tempting at this moment.”

“Iz zat an inwitation?” He smiled, his face coming closer to mine.

I smiled and closed the space between us with a kiss.

“Hey, Chekov you’re—”

We both stopped and I turned to see Captain Kirk at the doorway.

“You know, Mystie, your room is the next one on the right.”

I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Now that should be in his mouth, not pointed at me.” He smirked.

I gave him a disgusted look and sneered at him while Chekov took a huge intake of air.

“Oh, and your legs are doing something funny.” He added, walking out.

We both looked down at my legs to see the lights going from bright red to cycling through yellows and pinks.

“I need to get to vork.” Said Chekov, a bit down.

“Yeah...” I replied in the same tone, releasing Chekov from my grip.

He turned and walked over to his closet, grabbing the standard issue undershirt and shirt.  Pulling them over his head, he walked around his room looking for something.

“Где они?” He muttered.

I started looking not knowing what he needs.  My gaze lands on a single boot.  I picked it up and showed it to him

“Looking for this?”

“Da!” He said, walking over to me, “But vere iz zhe ozher?”

My eyes instantly found it on the other side of the room.

“Over there.” I pointed.

“Ah!” He answered, walking over to it, other boot in hand.

Once his boots were on, he headed out

“Dinner after my shift?” He asked.

“Yes!” I agreed happily.

He grinned then turned and started jogging to the Bridge, waving.  I waved back, wondering what I can do while waiting for Chekov.

“You two will make a cute couple.” Said a voice behind me.

I jumped and turned to see nurse Traxler already in her medical blues.  I didn’t answer, my cheeks did it for me turning a brighter shade of red.

“What is with your legs and those yellows and pinks it turns on?” She asked, silently laughing at me.

“I… think they're based on mood,” I shrugged, “Maybe.”

~~~

After exploring the ship for hours I returned to the Medbay to see Dr. McCoy.  Just as I walked in the room the ground shook.  I immediately spread my arms out to balance myself.  Then the ground shook again, making me try to catch my balance by grabbing the wall.  Red alert came on and the Medbay began to bustle with wounded coming in.

I started to panic, my legs blinking red.  I looked around trying to understand what was happening.  The noise and busyness getting to me I ran into one of the supply closets, this one having the lock inside instead of out.  I shook as I pushed myself into the corner, making myself as small as possible.

~~~

It felt like days before the shaking of the ship and noise stopped.  I was still shaking when I heard knocking on the door.

“Who’s in there?” I barely heard McCoy say.

“Mystie,” I said, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Will you let me in?” He asked.

“No.”

I heard a sigh then yelling.

“Someone get Mystie’s boyfriend.  The attack freaked her out.”

Some minutes passed before the knock came back.

“Mystie?” I heard Chekov’s sweet voice say.

I didn’t reply.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

I frowned, still too scared to open the door.  I heard buttons being pressed and the door unlocked.  I folded myself into a smaller ball as the door opened a bit.  Chekov peeked in and gave me a smile before opening the door wider and sneaking in.  He cautiously came to me and put his arms around me.  I instantly melted into his embrace.

“Zhe ship vas attacked by Klingons.  Ve took care of eet.  Eet’s safe now.” He murmured.

I grunted in return; too tired to respond with words.  

A minute passed before I took a big breath and said, “How long was the fight?”

“Little more zhen twelve hours,” Chekov replied.

“No wonder… I’m so tired.” I murmured, falling asleep.

~~~

There was something on my chest, making it slightly hard to breathe.  It was lightly snoring.   I cracked my eyes open to see Chekov fast asleep.  I lightly nudged him, but he didn’t wake up.  He’s too heavy for me to move so I just have to lay here.  Stuck.  

There were several minutes of me contemplating whether I should wake him or not.  He did have a long shift with the fight not too long ago, but then again I’m under him unable to move.  Just when I was about to push him off he stirred and turned his head to look at me.  His eyes were glazed in confusion for a couple of moments before he can to his senses and rolled off me.

“Sowry,” He said, sitting up on the bedside, “I tend to do zat sometimes.”

“Good thing my heart and lungs are made of metal.” I teased.

“Mhmm,” He answered, twisting around to me and planting a kiss on my nose.

I hummed happily as I wrapped my arms around him to pull myself into a sitting position.  

“Hey, Chekov, have you seen—” Traxler trailed off, seeing both of us.

“GET OUT!” I yelled, giggling.

“Okay, okay.” The nurse surrendered, holding her hands up and walking out.

I nuzzled up against Chekov, “I don’t ever want to get up.”

He laughed, “Me too.”

~~~

“Why didn’t you report Lieutenant [L/N] as a missing or as a prisoner, Captain Becks?” Asked Admiral Jones.

Captain Kirk had talked with Admiral Jones before getting connected to Captain Becks from the USS Prokofiev.  He also kept me out of sight of Captain Becks when he connected so Kirk can be all dramatic and such-and-such.  Admiral Jones agreed to this plan knowing there was nothing to stop Captain Kirk.

“What do you mean? Lieutenant [L/N] is here with us.” Lied Captain Becks.

“Interesting.  Your ship was attacked by an unknown alien ship wasn’t it?” Admiral Jones questioned.

“How do you know?  I didn’t report it.” Becks recoiled.

“Why didn’t you report it?” Kirk shot back.

“There was nothing to report.  No one was killed.”

“Then why was,” Kirk motioned me to move into view, “Lieutenant [L/N] found there?”

Captain Becks moved back in his chair from surprise.  He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

“You have violated Starfleet protocol and you put an officer in danger.  WITHOUT EVEN REPORTING IT!” Yelled Admiral Jones.   “I-I-I,” stuttered Captain Becks.

“You will return to Starfleet headquarters and resign your position as Captain.  You can go on your way Captain Kirk, I will have Lieutenant [L/N] transfer to you.”

“Sounds good, Admiral.” Replied Kirk, the connection ending.

“Well, looks like you’re going to put me to work now huh?” I said.

“Don’t worry I’ll have you working when Chekov is.” Kirk said, “Wait, you worked on the Bridge didn’t you?”

“Yes, Captain.” I saluted.

~~~

“Chief Medic's log, Stardate: Uh… Whatever.  Mystie has begun working on the Bridge.  I don’t know how I feel about that.  She is also getting lessons on flying the damn ship.  I definitely don’t trust her with that.  I can see bad things happening if she and Chekov get control of the ship.  Oh boy, I should make a rule stating that Mystie should NEVER be allowed to have anything sharp because this time she cut her uniform pants into shorts.  Sigh.  She sure loves showing off her mechanical legs.  I heard from Nurse Traxler that Mystie doesn’t stay in her room.  She just goes next door to Chekov.  I’m happy for her.  She now has a true family.”

[v-thinks-on]

We Know That We Need, But Not What - Part 2

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“Not a trace of the Romulans, as far as we could tell,” Scotty reported as Kirk relieved him of the captain’s chair.

Kirk nodded. “Set course for outpost five - I want to get to them all.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I believe we’re closer to outpost seven now,” Sulu said.

Kirk tensed, but he knew better. He kept his voice level as he answered, “Thank you. Plot the most efficient route, helmsman. And I want to check on any Federation planets along the way.”

“Yes, sir.” Sulu complied.

The story on outpost seven was the same as on six: “We haven’t seen any Romulans, but I don’t know who else could be scattering the sensors and breaking into our computers.”

After Kirk signed off, Spock remarked, “Captain, it is illogical to waste time searching for the Romulans when we know where they have been already and are likely to return.”

“We don’t know that, Commander,” Kirk snapped before he could stop himself.

“It is only logical.” Spock sounded exasperated with his foolishness.

“I’m not going to wait around an outpost until the Romulans happen to show up! We’re here to patrol and gather information and that’s what we’re going to do,” Kirk insisted.

“You are allowing your emotions to interfere with your reason.”

“Your opinion has been noted, Commander.” With that, Kirk turned to face forward and forced himself to take a deep breath. A little more calmly, he ordered, “Mr. Sulu, onto the next outpost.”

If Sulu and Chekov exchanged a glance, Kirk pretended not to notice.

On their way to outpost four, they stopped by a Federation planet, where they were greeted with a less than warm welcome: “No, we haven’t seen anything. If the Romulans were up to something we’d know it. We don’t need a Federation warship interfering with our business.”

“We’re here to help,” Kirk attempted, but to no avail.

Even Spock put in, “It is not logical to refuse our assistance.”

Kirk shot his first officer a warning glare and faced the planet’s head of state on the viewscreen, “If you don’t want our assistance, so be it. We’ll be in the sector if you change your mind, otherwise, you can deal with the Romulans directly.” He signaled for Uhura to close the channel and ordered the helm to continue on their way.

“Jim,” Dr. McCoy cautioned.

Kirk shot him a warning glance too.

Dr. McCoy frowned. “A word, Captain?”

Kirk let out a huff of air and his glare faltered. “I know,” he admitted, “You’re right.” Even though Decker was gone, Jim was still competing with anyone and everyone who questioned his authority, and they both knew it.

“You bet I am,” the doctor retorted.

They continued on to the next outpost. No outpost or Federation planet had much more to report than Kirk had already heard. Some detected more disturbances and others less - all of the incident reports were uploaded into the Enterprise computers - but the Romulans had left no concrete evidence of their presence behind.

Kirk called all the senior officers for a conference. Once they were all gathered around the table he declared, “I want answers.”

“All of the glitches and strange readings are probably not a coincidence,” Chekov concluded.

“Thank you, Mr. Chekov,” Kirk replied with a sardonic smile. “Anyone else?”

“They could be leftover from V’Ger,” Uhura suggested.

“I don’t think so,” Scotty said with a shake of his head. “Nowhere else has reported aftershocks like this.”

“The only logical conclusion,” Spock put in, “Is that Romulan vessels have crossed the Neutral Zone and are trespassing on Federation space.”

“Vessels?” Chekov exclaimed. “You mean more than one?”

“Yes,” Spock replied. “I do not believe that only one ship would be capable of causing all of the disturbances reported; multiple disturbances have been reported at distant outposts in exceedingly close succession. Furthermore, if the Romulan Empire truly intends to take advantage of the Federation’s temporary inhibition, it is highly unlikely they would send an invasion force of a single ship.”

Kirk crossed his arms over his chest and took a step toward Spock. “You think this is the beginning of an invasion?”

“Given our knowledge of their history and culture, I find any alternative highly unlikely,” Spock replied. “Unlike humans, Romulans do not allow themselves to be ruled by their passions, but they harness them with warlike notions of duty and glory. They will take any evidence of weakness as an excuse for violence.”

Kirk gave him a skeptical look, but let the insult to humanity slide as he turned the possibility over in his mind. At last he asked, “If you’re right, what would they do next?”

“Once they have ascertained the Federation’s weakness, they will launch a full assault, prioritizing ostentatious prizes such as outposts,” Spock answered.

“What I don’t understand,” Chekov remarked, “Is if they wanted to take an outpost, why wait for a starship to arrive to defend it?”

“Maybe we’re the ‘prize’ they’re after,” Sulu suggested.

Scotty nodded. “Aye, the Enterprise would be worthy.”

“You haven’t picked up anything on the sensors?” Kirk glanced between Chekov and Spock.

“No, sir,” Chekov replied.

Scotty peered at Kirk, as though he could see the gears turning in his head. “What is it, sir?”

Kirk shook his head. “Just a hunch.”

Spock’s eyebrows rose in disbelief.

Before anyone else could question him, Kirk said, “Meeting adjourned. Return to your stations.”

Kirk followed the others out of the conference room and back to the bridge.

When his shift was over, Kirk returned to his quarters, but he had more important things to do than sleep. He sat down at the table and ordered, “Computer, I want all the incident reports from the planets and outposts along the Neutral Zone.”

The next day, they continued going from outpost to outpost. Kirk sat on the bridge, attempting to read more technical manuals as he waited. But somehow as the hours had passed, he started to feel like he was wading through thick, hazy soup, even though the bridge had been nothing but quiet all day - but maybe that was the problem.

He read the sentence again as though he would understand it better after another attempt. It was something about dilithium storage, but what he couldn’t tell. He hadn’t really understood the rest of the paragraph either and he was considering starting the whole section again, or maybe better yet, giving up the whole thing as a bad job.

Finally, he put aside his reading and rubbed at his face to try to wake himself up a little, but he only succeeded at stifling a yawn. He could feel the bridge crew’s eyes on him, even as they worked at their stations. He knew Spock could hear his every move with those sharp Vulcan ears.

Kirk just needed to get up and do something. “Spock, you have the con,” he declared, and took a turbo lift down to engineering before anyone could protest.

“Captain, what’re you doing down here?” Scotty exclaimed at the sight of Kirk meandering around the engines.

Kirk gave him a smile. “I’ve been doing some reading and thought I might see the dilithium crystals for myself.”

“Certainly, sir! I’d be happy to show you around,” Scotty said.

“If it isn’t too much trouble.” Kirk gestured for him to lead the way.

“Why the sudden interest in the engines, if you don’t mind my asking?” Scotty remarked as he started across a catwalk, Kirk following close behind.

“A captain should know his ship better than anyone,” Kirk replied, a little more seriously than he had intended.

Scotty nodded in understanding. “That’s what you’ve got us for,” he reminded Kirk.

Kirk grinned, but he was only half joking when he said, “I should be able to run her all on my own if I have to.”

Scotty glanced back at the captain, his skepticism clear, but he didn’t argue.

Kirk followed Scotty around the engine room, asking about anything he could possibly need, until his chief engineer was needed elsewhere. When Kirk was left to his own devices, he continued on a self-guided tour, trying to identify everything mentioned in the manual just in case.

Kirk waited at the entrance to the ship’s garden. He half expected Spock not to show up. Kirk had no logical excuse for the invitation and there were many more important things they could have both been doing with their time.

But sure enough, just as the hour was about to change, Spock made his appearance. He was still in his pale blue uniform, and when he stopped at the door, he stood at attention, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. Kirk suspected nothing would ever suit Spock quite as well as the old science blues, but the sight of him still made Kirk’s heart leap a little.

Kirk offered Spock his arm with a smile.

Spock gave him a skeptical look - Kirk lowered his arm - but he allowed Kirk to lead him inside.

Kirk had chosen the gardens because they were quiet and peaceful. They passed a few officers here and there, enjoying the greenery on their off hours, but for the most part, the two of them were alone.

Kirk stooped over to smell a bright orange flower in full bloom and held it up a little for Spock to share in its sweet aroma. Spock looked bemused by the gesture, but there was a softness to his expression. Kirk could not help but smile back, the flower forgotten. If he ambled a little closer to Spock as they continued walking, he doubted anyone would mind.

Kirk’s eyes wandered about the alien flowers and trees from across the galaxy, but he never lost sight of Spock at his side. Spock watched him in return with a hint of something almost like a warm smile.

Kirk glanced around to make sure there was no one else in sight and let his hand drift toward Spock’s, his first two fingers extended in the Vulcan way.

But their skin never touched. Spock slipped away as though it was entirely coincidental, as though it were perfectly natural for the two of them to walk with a couple of feet between them. He appeared preoccupied, idly admiring the leaves of a tree. When he turned back to face Kirk, Spock’s gaze had turned passive, as though he were watching him from some distance.

Kirk withdrew his hands behind his back. He tried to force his voice light and neutral. “I just realized there’s an urgent report I still need to get to. I should go.”

Spock turned to face him and gave a shallow nod in understanding. Kirk did not miss how Spock’s gaze had hardened - Kirk reflexively readied for a fight.

“I advise that you take the opportunity to rest,” Spock said. “You have been showing signs of stress and fatigue since you have resumed command.”

“That’s a nice idea in theory, but I don’t have the time,” Kirk snapped.

Spock looked unconvinced. Still, he offered, his expression almost smug, “Is there any way in which I might be of assistance?”

“Following orders would be a start,” Kirk replied before he could stop himself.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. His lips were set in a firm line.

Kirk shook his head and let out a sigh. Finally, he looked back up at Spock and said, meaning every word, “It’s more than enough just to have you back. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Spock seemed to regard Kirk with some curiosity, as though he was some strange creature, which maybe a human was to a Vulcan.

“I am grateful I was able to return in time,” Spock remarked at last and left it at that.

Kirk hesitated. “I should go.”

Spock made no move to stop him.

Kirk went straight down to sickbay to see if Dr. McCoy couldn’t find a cure for his ills.

He found Bones in his office. The doctor smiled at the sight of him, but that quickly faded as he saw Kirk’s sheepish expression, and gave way to a wary glare.

Kirk let out a sigh.

“First Decker, now Spock,” Bones remarked, “I see things haven’t changed a bit.”

Kirk shook his head. “It’s not about that.”

Bones gave him a look that said it certainly was. Still, he said, “Well, don’t leave me in suspense.”

“It’s Spock,” Kirk explained. He hesitated. “Maybe you’re right; I’m still... getting back into things. And I thought Spock was back to normal, but maybe he’s still figuring it all out too.”

Bones nodded along as though he’d expected as much. “You want to know something? I’ve had Spock in here a few times since he reappeared out of the blue in the middle of the ‘V’Ger incident.’ You want to guess how all of his readings have been?”

Kirk had a guess - he had noticed how gaunt Spock had become - but there was so much he didn’t know about Vulcan physiology or what Kolinahr entailed.

Bones didn’t wait for an answer. “I don’t know how he’s still standing. That ritual of his is more than just getting rid of emotions, that’s for sure. He described it as riding himself of all desires, apparently including hunger and thirst.”

“But I thought it was over,” Kirk protested, his eyes narrowed as though if he looked hard enough he could see the explanation written on Bones’s face.

Bones shook his head. “A lasting side effect apparently,” he said with a grimace. “I couldn’t convince him otherwise, but maybe you could get through to him. If not, I don’t see how I’ll have a choice but to declare him unfit for duty.”

“I can’t let that happen,” Kirk said reflexively. “I’ll try to talk to him, though he hasn’t been listening to me either.”

“Good luck,” Bones said. He gave Kirk a sympathetic pat on the arm - Kirk immediately stiffened at the touch.

Bones just shook his head.

Kirk glanced around his quarters yet again, just to make sure everything was in place: the lights at a comfortable fifty percent, the table set for two with a flower from the garden in the center - nothing too much, just a little touch. It wasn’t supposed to be anything formal, just a captain and his first officer eating together.

Kirk let out a long breath and adjusted his low cut white shirt, wishing for hardly the first time that he was back in command yellow, but the new uniforms were the least of his problems.

He glanced around again, just to be sure.

Precisely on time, no sooner, no later, there was a chime at the door.

“Come in,” Kirk answered, maybe a little too quickly.

The door slid open to let Spock in. His eyebrows rose as he took in the scene before him.

Kirk tried to flash Spock an easy smile as he waved him inside, but it felt strained and seemed to do little to win the Vulcan’s confidence. So, Kirk let his expression fall and tried to lead Spock to the table, which bore a small sampling of Vulcan delicacies - or the closest replicated approximation.

Spock did not follow him. “This is not a briefing,” he remarked dryly.

“I thought, while you were here,” Kirk attempted to deflect with a gesture at the table. He hoped Spock found the strong scent of all the alien spices enticing.

Spock’s lips curved downward in a definitive frown. “Your behavior is highly illogical. Our relationship cannot return to what it was.”

“Why not?” Kirk demanded.  “There’s nothing un-Vulcan-”

“You are attempting to engage me in a human romantic relationship despite my request to the contrary, is that not correct?” Spock demanded. His voice was level, but there was a sharpness to it.

“Why does it matter if it’s human or Vulcan?” Kirk exclaimed. “How do you feel?”

“What I feel is of no consequence,” Spock retorted.

“Then you’re just like V’Ger!” Kirk pounded his fist on the air for emphasis. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“You misunderstand,” Spock said as though his tangled web of logic should have been easy to unravel. “I am aware that attempting to rid myself of emotion was a mistake. Emotion is an essential part of my being like a necessary bodily function. However, that does not mean I must allow it to dictate my actions like a human” - he said the word like Kirk might have said “Klingon.”

“You’re human too!” Kirk took Spock by the shoulders even though he knew he shouldn’t. “I know we humans make mistakes - I know I have. But I’m not so sure the Vulcan way is any better.” He met Spock’s eyes once more and let his hands fall back to his sides.

“I acknowledge that I am half human and that there are even advantages to human philosophy. However, just because I am of human heritage does not mean that I have any obligation to behave according to your principles. I have evaluated both the human and Vulcan ideologies and found the former to be inferior - you cannot argue that it has served you well. Therefore, I see no reason to indulge in your human customs.”

“Spock,” Kirk began, but any words that could follow caught in his throat before he even thought of anything to say. He tried to meet Spock’s eyes, but they were sharp and cold. For all Spock’s indifference, Kirk could feel his raw resentment.

“If there is not actually any matter of ship’s business about which I should be briefed, I will take my leave.”

When Kirk did not respond, Spock gave him a sharp nod, turned, and left.

[jamest-kirk]

I spent some time catching up on your mckirk headcanons and they always leave me with a smile! So I have one for you that's been running around in my head. Doctor Bones has just moved to San Francisco and becomes a regular at the bar where the detectives hang out and at first he's resistant to Detective Jim's attempts at conversations for days. They eventually talk and start falling for each other. One day Jim gets critically injured on the job and Bones puts him back together! Plus confessions!

San Francisco is horribly overrated. Sure, it’s beautiful, but the city center is so expensive. Bones is lucky enough that he can move in with childhood friend Sulu, otherwise he wouldn’t know how to get by. On the plus side, San Francisco is beautiful. The people are beautiful, and maybe slightly less cocky than those in Los Angeles.

Until he meets Jim. Over the past few weeks, Bones has been visiting this small bar. The beers are cheap, the music quiet, and the guests mostly stick to themselves. Which is great, because they all seem to be feds, cops, or otherwise law enforcement. Bones is glad they exist, but he doesn’t feel a particular need to get close. But then this cop sits down next to him, a few years younger than him. Not a rind on him, and a small smile that tells him he’s not used to people telling him no. “What’s your poison?” he asks, and Bones shrugs. “I don’t drink.” “You’re drinking a whiskey right now,” the cop counters. Bones glances at the other man. “That means I’m not interested,” he says. “In a drink?” “In you,” Bones replies. “Not yet,” the cop says, leaning back in his chair, “but you will be.”

He’s not wrong. Jim Kirk is very persistent. He tries to talk to Bones every week. Subtle touches, hands on Bones’ arm or shoulder, all something Bones shrugs off. He tries to just start a conversation, which Leonard usually ignores, but occasionally reacts to. And then there’s that time Jim has a nasty cut over his eyebrow, but he insists it’s fine. It keeps bleeding whenever he laughs, though, which is an awful lot and it shouldn’t be such a good look on him. “Sit still,” Leonard says eventually, reaching out over the counter of the bar for the first aid kit, and he ends up stitching him up right there. Tipsy or not, Bones can do these things blindfolded. “So, you a doctor?” Jim asks, trying his best not to frown or flinch when Leonard patches him up. “If you’d have asked about me instead of talking ‘bout yourself, you would’ve known,” Bones replies, and Jim huffs. “I asked plenty, you just never answered my questions,” Jim says. He reaches out to touch the cut over his eyebrow, but Bones slaps his hand away. “No touching.” “Only if you go on a date with me,” Jim says. “Why would I do that?” Bones asks, and Jim smiles. “Because I’m an expert on first dates.”

Again, Jim is right. He is an expert on first dates. He takes Leonard on a stroll through Chinatown, where they share spring rolls and coconut cakes. Bones finds out that Jim has such interesting stories to tell, and he knows exactly how to captivate people - be it with his stories, or those confident looks and long stares. At sunset, Bones finds himself overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge, and they sit down looking out at the water together. Jim’s hand finds Bones’, and he squeezes it lightly. Leonard, instead, pulls his hand back after a little while. “So, on a scale from one to ten, how would you rate this date?” Jim asks, and Bones scoffs. “Really? You just dropped a few points there, by asking,” he says. Jim laughs, and when Bones turns his eyes to look at him, Jim leans in to kiss him. Rather than accepting that kiss, despite wanting that, too, Bones turns away. Denied, Jim almost looks a little insulted. Just briefly, but his smile doesn’t falter. “Not good enough, then?” Jim asks, and Bones frowns. “What?” “The date.” “The date is fine,” Bones says, “a little cheesy, but I’m sure that works on most people you take out.” Jim scoffs at that, but then looks at him sheepishly. “Yes.” “I thought so,” Bones says with a smile, “what do you do on a second date?” “I, uh, don’t.” “Don’t what?” “I don’t do second dates,” Jim admits. “You don’t– what?” “I said I was an expert on first dates,” Jim says, “I don’t do seconds.” Bones raises an eyebrow, gently patting Jim’s shoulders. “Keep digging,” he says, getting up from their spot, “it’s almost deep enough for your own grave.”

They don’t date again, after all, Jim doesn’t do seconds. And besides that, Bones is happy being just friends. After a messy divorce, and multiple failed relationships, Bones is happy being alone. Doesn’t need someone in his life, let alone a man. But he does text Jim all the time. From annoying patients, to Sulu’s fiance kicking him out of the apartment a lot - not with so many words, but when Sulu and Ben disappear into the bedroom is pretty much when Bones wants to disappear. It’s also when he’s looking forward to hanging out with Jim instead. He looks forward to seeing him all the time, hanging out either at their local bar getting into heated arguments, or yelling at the TV when football is on. They visit the movie theater together, and after some gentle persuasion, Bones joins Jim to the local gym and they work out together a couple nights a week. 

Part of him regrets not having kissed Jim when he had the chance, because Jim seemed to have moved on to ogling girls, guys, whatever else. Jim is easy to fall for; a handsome face, overall good guy, and just the right amount of cocky to be attractive. But there’s just no way Leonard’s ever going to act up on those feelings, he can’t. Until Jim gets hurt, and more seriously so than before. He doesn’t even make it to the bar, Bones catches him at work instead. Bones is just walking through the hallways of the hospital when Jim’s being brought in. Shot multiple times, and he’s on the brink of death for almost an entire week. Bones stays by his side; assisting in the surgery to pull him back. He would’ve done it himself, had Jim’s critical situation not completely and emotionally compromised him. 

Bones has other patients to tend to, so when he returns to Jim’s room, the detective’s staring at him with those big, blue eyes. Somehow brighter because of his pale face. “You’re awake,” Bones says, and Jim’s lips crack into a tired smile. “You must be a detective,” he replies, and Bones smiles. He sits down at Jim’s side, hand instinctively reaching out for Jim’s, and he squeezes it softly. “How are you feeling?” He asks. “Like I’ve been shot,” Jim replies. “Well,” Bones starts, “you’re not wrong.”

Jim’s pretty insufferable when he’s high on morphine. He’s talking more than usual, and Bones can’t even begin to keep up with conversation topics. One second, Jim’s talking about the fight that got him shot in the first place, and mid-sentence he’s somehow changed into talking about Uhura and Spock instead. There’s one thing he’s fairly consistent about, though, and that’s Bones. “You’re so beautiful,” Jim says out of the blue, hands severely messing up Bones’ hairdo. “Yeah?” Bones asks, small smile as he takes Jim’s hand away from his hair, and he presses a kiss to the back of his hand. “Hm,” Jim hums in agreement, “I'ma marry you some day.” “I don’t do marriage,” Bones says, “been there, done that.” “But you haven’t done me,” Jim replies to that, surprisingly firm in his answers, but he dozes off to sleep just shortly after.

Bones moves in for a few weeks to help Jim get back up on his feet properly. It's also because Sulu's fiance is moving in, and he wants to give them space for a few days. Really, there's no place Bones would rather be than here, right now. Jim lounges on the couch in mild discomfort, but he tries not to show it. So rather than focus on the pain in his healing wounds, Jim turns to Bones instead. "Why didn't you kiss me?" "What?" "On our date. You turned away when I tried to kiss you." "That's ages ago," Bones laughs it off, but Jim looks at him expectantly. "I'm a gentleman, I don't kiss on the first date," Bones replies, and Jim rolls his eyes. "Bullshit, I've seen you take home people you met an hour prior." "Okay," Bones eventually says, "I don't know why I didn't. Part of me regrets it, but I'm glad we got to know each other like this. Casually." "Casually," Jim repeats, briefly glancing at the TV screen. He reaches out for Bones' hand, and he squeezes it softly. "You know, I meant what I said the other week," he continues, and Bones raises an eyebrow. "You realize you spoke almost non-stop the other week. Which part?" He asks. "I'm going to marry you someday," Jim repeats, turning to look at Bones, and there's not the slightest sense of humor  in Jim's eyes. Bones averts his gaze, but he shifts his hand so that his fingers slide between Jim's. "You know," Bones starts, "to marry me, you're gonna have to eventually go on a second date." Jim laughs, pulling Bones in closer. This time, when Jim tries to kiss him, Bones isn't rejecting. Jim kisses him softly, pulling the other in even closer until the weight on his chest starts getting painful on those wounds, and Bones pulls away the moment he notices. Jim 's still smiling, despite that. "Second date is way overdue, don't you think?"