Jim Kirk blinked awake, groggy and sore and feeling a needle poking out of him. Looking around, he recognized the doctor who had gotten him in the ER standing next to his bed, filling in a chart.
"Good, you're awake," he said with a hint of worry. "What the hell happened to you? And who are you?"
Jim grimaced and reached for his back pocket, which is when he realized that he had no back pocket because he was in a hospital gown. "Where's my pants?" he asked hoarsely before coughing again. Warily, Dr. Leonard H. McCoy passed him the blood-encrusted jeans, which Jim dug a badge out of.
"Agent James T. Kirk, San Francisco FBI. As for what happened, that's classified. Mission went wrong, I took the brunt of it. Am I clear to go?"
"Like hell you aren't, FBI agent or not. I've got to give you a CAT scan before I can clear you. You were unconscious for almost half an hour, which gave us time to evaluate you and patch up the worst of it. You don't seem to have any broken bones, but we need to check your head for swelling before I can discharge you." With that, Leo hung the clipboard off the end of the bed and wheeled Jim off to the scanner, leaving no room for argument.
"You sure you feel alright? Any of your bones sore?" That was the tenth time Leo had asked Jim that question, and Jim groaned as he stood up.
"I'm fine, Bones. Now, can I go report to my captain or what?"
"Yeah, you're cleared to go. But if you have any pain in your bones or head, call me straight away, got it?" McCoy reached into his pocket and passed Jim a business card that listed both a work and private number.
That was three years ago now. After a week, Jim had dialed the personal number and asked Bones, as he so fondly referred to the doctor who kept asking about bone pain, if he wanted to go for coffee. Leo reluctantly agreed, but found himself enjoying it. Now, they shared a small apartment in downtown San Francisco, not far from the hospital or FBI agency. Tonight was one of the rare nights that Leo and Jim would both be home at the same time, and Jim planned to take full advantage of it and sex Bones up.
"Yo, Bones, I'm home," Jim called as he came through the door. "Bones?"
Normally, Jim would have suspected that Bones was just lying in wait, naked in their bed or performing some other such shenanigan, but his training told him something was wrong. Slowly, he removed his pistol from its place down the back of his suit pants and cocked it. The placement wasn't technically regulation, but Jim knew it turned Bones on, so he made sure to do it tonight. Moving cautiously and quietly in only his socks, Jim checked every room to confirm that Bones was gone. When he entered the kitchen, he got it. There was a photo of Bones tied to a chair, beaten and bloody, looking similar to how Jim had when he stumbled into the hospital all those weeks ago. On the back, a phone number was written in neat handwriting that was a far cry from Leo's doctor scrawl. Scrambling, Jim nearly dropped his phone in his rush to dial the out-of-area number.
"Agent Kirk, how nice of you to call," a smooth, deep voice answered.
"Khan." Jim nearly spit the name from his mouth. "What do you want?"
"What do I want? Well, for starters, I want you to bring me all the records the FBI has on me, as well as a passport and plane ticket to anywhere out of this country. In return, I'll give you back Dr. McCoy here."
Jim froze. Giving up the records would mean that the French mass murderer would get away with his crimes and walk free. But not doing so would mean losing the most important thing in the world to him. "Where are you at?" He asked quietly.
"I'm at 531 Romulus Ave. It's a warehouse. If you bring me what I want before midnight, Doctor McCoy might even be in one piece. A minute later, and I start cutting." Khan's voice was casual, as if he was just discussing dinner plans, but Jim knew how serious he was. He ended the call and sat down, hard. He knew what he needed to do, just didn't want to. Sighing, he picked up the phone and dialed the necessary number.
"Pike here," came the curt answer after only one ring.
"Pike, it's Kirk. I need help."
"Kirk, it's your night off. Go sex up your boyfriend or something. I have work to do."
"I can't, Chris. That's why I need help. They took Bones."
"What?" Pike had been the first to meet Bones after he and Jim started dating. Christopher Pike, FBI was like the father Jim never had, and all Jim wanted was Chris' approval. Pike instantly took to the doctor, giving Jim orders to not let him slip away. "Tell me everything, Jim."
"I came home and I called out for Bones but he didn't answer and I could tell something was wrong and I went through the apartment with my gun up like in training and when I went to the kitchen there was a photo of Bones on the table and he was tied to a chair and he was in bad shape and there was a phone number on the back of it and when I called it Khan picked up and-" Jim spilled out the majority of his story in one breath before Pike cut him off.
"Khan did this?"
"Yeah."
"Christ, Jim. Okay, what did he want?"
"All the information we had on him- presumably to destroy, a passport, and a plane ticket anywhere out of the country. No money. I have until midnight to take it to him or he's-" Jim stopped to clear his throat and will back the tears in his eyes. "Chris, he's gonna kill Bones."
Jim could hear Chris sigh and start typing furiously. "Okay, give me one hour. But, Jim- you know what he'll get away with if we give him this stuff, right?"
"Of course I do, Chris. I've been an agent for almost four years now. As soon as I get Bones back safely, I'm going to put a bullet in Khan's skull and stop him once and for all," Jim said softly before hanging up.
Standing, Jim moved to the small closet and traded in the suit for dark jeans, a dark v-neck and a black leather jacket to complete the ensemble. His boots were at the back of the closet, and a tight fit, but perfect for field wear. He checked the cartridge in his pistol and replaced it in the back of his jeans, dropping two extra cartridges from the safe into his pockets and taking the old gun he snuck from headquarters after last year's reissue and slid it into his belt holster. Glancing over at the clock, he noted there were still five hours until midnight. Which was good, considering he was going to need backup and his partner might take some convincing.
"Agent Spock speaking."
"Spock, it's Kirk. I need your help."
"It is your night off, Agent Kirk. What could you possibly require my assistance with?" Spock inquired, sounding utterly befuddled.
"They took Bones, Spock, and I'm going to get him back, but I need backup."
"I presume you are referring to your boyfriend, Leonard McCoy being taken by Khan Noonien Singh and his associates?"
"Yes, Spock. Just meet me at my apartment as soon as you can. Wear dark clothes and bring your gun." Jim terminated the call before Spock could answer, and began pacing to pass the time. He quickly stopped, knowing he would need his energy and forced down half of a sandwich to keep him going. By the time Pike called back, Spock was already outside Jim's door.
"Yeah, Spock's here now, and he brought Uhura with," Jim said, shooting Spock a questionable look as he pulled the door closed. "Listen, meet us at 531 Romulus in five minutes. It's a warehouse, should be easy to spot." As he terminated the call, he greeted Spock and Uhura in turn, noting that both were dressed appropriately for field work, Uhura's fashionable addition of a scarf still practical.
"Basically," he explained as he slid into the black Volkswagen, "Khan took Bones sometime when I was gone, and left a photo and phone number on my table. He wants all the information we have, a passport, and a plane ticket. Pike's got all that, and he'll meet us there. As soon as Bones is safe, if either of you have a clear shot, take it. Khan's going down one way or another, and I'm more than happy to do it by putting a bullet in his skull. So, let's go get this son of a bitch."
His passengers were silent as he sped through the dark, although that may have been fear or queasiness from his driving skills. Neither of them said a word until they reached the warehouse lot, and Uhura spoke quietly from the back seat.
"You really do love him, don't you?"
Jim made eye contact with her in the rearview mirror. "I do. He means more to me than anything." He cleared his throat before turning to Spock. "Speaking of which, was it really necessary to bring your girlfriend?"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "I felt that Agent Uhura's skills may be beneficial in this situation."
"She's a translator, not an official field agent! You're great with a gun, Uhura, but I don't want to see you get shot because of your boyfriend here."
"I hardly think that classification is proper, Agent Kirk, seeing as inter-agency relationships are forbidden," Spock replied.
"Oh, give it up, Spock, everyone knows about you tw-" Jim was cut off by Uhura.
"Alright boys, knock it off. Yes, Spock and I are seeing each other, drop it. Also, Pike's here, so get your ass out there and tell us where to go."
Twenty minutes later, Jim was positioned outside the front door, Khan's file in one hand and the plane ticket and passport in the other. As soon as he was in, Pike, Spock and Uhura were all going to slip in the side entrance and station themselves along the rafters for the best shot. Taking a deep breath, Jim pulled on the door and was shocked to find that the warehouse was brightly lit and clean, the exact opposite of what they had been expecting. Crossing the floor, his boots echoed in the empty building.
"Khan," he called from the middle of the room. "I've got your stuff here. Just let me take Dr. McCoy and you can have everything you asked for."
He heard a door open behind him. Spinning, he saw Khan crossing the room, his ridiculous long black coat flapping behind him.
"Let me see the file," Khan said, extending a hand.
Jim shook his head. "Show me that Dr. McCoy is alright first. Then you can have everything."
Khan pondered this, but knew Jim wouldn't cave. "Fair enough. Follow me." He led Jim back through the door he just came through, where Jim saw Bones, tied up, bruised and bloody, but very much alive and relatively unharmed.
"Now, the file, please," Khan repeated the motion, and Jim reluctantly handed over the file. While Khan was examining the papers, Jim untied Bones and helped him to stand.
"Jim?" Bones asked groggily. "Is that you, 'im?"
"Yeah, Bones, it's me. I gotcha," Jim said as he lifted Bones' arm around his shoulders and proceeded to half drag him over to Khan. He dropped the passport and plane ticket at the Frenchman's feet and kept going, helping Bones to lean himself against the wall.
"I have one more thing for you, Khan," Jim said, turning.
"What's that, Agent Kirk?" he asked, looking up from the file.
Jim didn't respond, because he fired a bullet straight into Khan's brain in that half second. The foreigner fell to the ground, a look of shock still etched on his face, whereas Jim's was that of a highly satisfied man. "Freedom," he finally commented, standing over the body before moving back to Bones.
"Are you okay, Bones?"
"I'll be alrigh', Jim. That was… hot."
"Jim cracked a small smile for the first time all day. "Thanks. Now let's get you to a hospital, Bonesy," he said, stowing the gun in the back of his pants again.
"Soun's goo'," Bones commented, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Whoops."