Disclaimer: Well, let's see here. I am A.) so not cool enough to own Star Trek. B.) so not old enough to own Star Trek. C.) so not imaginative enough to own Star Trek. D.) have too much college to have actually had time to even think up the new Star Trek. All in all, Star Trek is just not mine…but I do enjoy dressing them up and making them kiss. (shrugs) I just win like that.

A/N: This is so retardedly written. I'm not even sure it has a style. My brain just regurgitated this stuff up and forced my fingers to type it. So bizarre. This was co-written with my lovely cousin, Lish. I'd find her ff screen name for you…but I'm super lazy. Anyway, she gave me ideas for like half of these so she has to be mentioned!

One:

He draws hearts in the condensation of their mirrors when he gets out of the shower. The left hump bigger than the right no matter how perfect he tries to make it (and he admits one time when they're drunk that he has actually tried). Bones always takes his shower after Jim, and it warms his own heart (which looks nothing like what's on the mirror) to see the symbol seemingly left behind for him. 1

Two:

The kid can't hold a damn note to save his life, but he is very pitch sensitive, something that only became apparent to Bones at a Starfleet regulated gala. Jim had stared at a trumpet playing Andorian for a full hour before Bones had asked him what was up. He had calmly told Bones, "That Andorian is supposed to be playing B flat." The way he said it made it very obvious to the Doctor that that was not the note the Andorian was playing.

Three:

Contrary to popular belief, Jim did take something personal with him to Starfleet Academy (other than that damn leather jacket). He took one holopic, which for the longest time he kept in his leather jacket pocket. Bones has only seen it twice to date (and both times by accident). It's of his mother and his father and his brother. His mother is obviously pregnant, though. Bones recognizes the sentimental value even without talking to Jim about it.

Four:

Jim was almost a father at fifteen. He doesn't know Bones knows this, and the Doctor hopes that he never does. He stumbled upon it by accident while looking through Jim medical files at Riverside Medical. His intent had been to find a list of allergies. In his psychological tab, alongside his trauma at being a survivor of Tarsus IV, he finds that Jim suffered a prolonged stint of depression after the news that his child was stillborn. When he looks through the list of stillborns at Riverside Medical, he sees the child's name (a boy, David Marcus Kirk) along with the mother and father. He never forgets the child's birthday, and it never goes unnoticed that Jim disappears every year on that date.

Five:

Jim is ambidextrous. Unsurprising, considering the kid's mind and its flexibility. But unexpected and would have gone unknown even by Bones if it hadn't been for the fact that he kept switching his writing hand when he was really tired one night and working on a paper well after he should have been sleeping.

Six:

When they went back to Iowa one week in summer, Bones found out, through an unusually open Jim, that he had nearly drowned in his own pond one winter when the water had iced over. He was seven and out playing with his brother, Jim said with a smile (like this was the best damn memory he could crop up), and he just fell through. Said the last thing he remembered before he blacked out was his mother's face before she brought an ice pick down into the ice.

Seven:

Jim can recite the outdated United States of America Preamble without pausing to even think about it. When Bones asks about this bizarre quirk, Jim merely smiles enigmatically.

Eight:

Bones is the only man Jim has ever slept with, though he's kissed a large number of men, given and received handjobs, and has given an amazing (if he does say so himself) blowjob. He tells the doctor one night (while playing with the dark hair on his chest) that he had never felt comfortable with the idea of that level of intimacy. He then smiles (brittle and not as comfortable as he lets on) and leaves the bed to take the longest shower Bones had ever known him to take.

Nine:

The kid will deny it until the end of time, but he listens to country even when Bones isn't around to 'force' him to do so.

Ten:

Jim is farsighted. None of his doctors, including Bones, can do anything to correct it, due to his allergy to the only medicine that can fix it. So, he has to wear glasses or corrective contacts, which dim his eye colour if you ask Bones. The glasses, though…the glasses. Of course, no one knows about this quirk either. He has only ever worn his glasses in their dorm or somewhere that he has no doubt is private. That makes Bones feel like it's his secret, as well. Only he will ever know how Jim looks when he wears his lenses.

Eleven:

Jim can speak Orion, Cardassian, and just enough Vulcan to 'get him slapped' as he claims. Not many people know this, and Bones is pretty sure he's the only one who knows Jim can speak two of them almost fluently. Bones is also sure that he keeps that a secret just so he can impress Uhura.

Twelve:

Due to his periodic dances with depression, Jim will have anxiety attacks if Bones has been out of contact for more than ten hours. The doctor came across this the hard way the first time he had a major operation and didn't leave a message with Jim to inform him of this. When he got back, the jackass was half packed and ready to go (where? Bones wasn't sure. The fact remained that he was ready to go in general). It took an hour to convince Jim that it was an honest mistake, and even though he tried to hide it, he shook for an hour afterwards. Bones makes sure to tell Jim when he won't be able to contact him from that point on.

Thirteen:

Jim can quote Shakespeare. Not just the random, "Et tu, Brute?" He can quote entire phrases from memory and often sneaks it into regular conversations. One day, while McCoy speaks of Admiral Barnett (and all the damn praise the fat cat gives him), Jim tells him flippantly, "I would he were fatter." Bones looks at him oddly until he starts going on about the Ides of March (which Jim was born rather close to, he realizes in hindsight). The Doctor then realizes that he's quoting Julius Ceasar. Tragedies aren't all he can quote from Shakespeare. He's quoted Taming of the Shrew countless times (especially when Uhura is around to glare at him). However, Bones is the only one who knows the full extent of Jim's Shakespearian knowledge.

Fourteen:

Christmas and her children's birthday were the only time Jim could count on his mother to be home. Bones finds this to be true even after Jim leaves for 'fleet. His mother comes to San Francisco for each of the three years Jim has his birthday there, and Jim ventures out to his childhood home (taking Bones with him the last year) for Christmas. They can't spend too long together, though. If they do, they become less like Mother and Son, and more reminiscent of survivors who were pitted together by gods who hated them. It hurts them both that it has to be this way, but after leaving Jim always says, 'At least she's still there.'

Fifteen:

Jim cannot stand blank walls. He has nabbed more of Joanna's drawings than Bones can really count and taped them up. "An empty wall is an empty home," he tells Bones one day as he tapes up Joanna's latest drawing of a unicorn prancing across a rainbow, with stick-figures of her and Bones on the back of the disfigured horse-creature. Bones doesn't argue. He likes seeing reflections of Joanna in their everyday life to life. Bones thinks Jim is subconsciously making up for David by posting his daughter's art on the wall, but he doesn't say anything, and Jim never really lets onto anything of the sort, always smiling at the pictures on the wall as if they were sent to him and not Bones.

Sixteen:

Those awful makeshift pastries they had in the late twentieth and early twenty-first century; Pop-tarts? They're horrible and disgusting, and really have no nutritional value at all, no matter what the label says. And, of course, Jim absolutely loves them. He doesn't eat them often. Only when he's sick does he demand them. Bones, bitching and grumbling about Jim's health, buys a box of Wild Berry anyway. Jim doesn't get sick that often. He gets the flu once a year, no matter how many vaccinations he gets, so one box of Pop-tarts probably won't kill him.

Seventeen:

The Senior Staff of the Enterprise plays hide and seek at night one Shore Leave. Why…is totally beyond Bones (and of course, Spock, but Bones refuses to be equated with the hobgoblin). Sulu had been the one to suggest it, and Jim had totally agreed to the idea, conning everyone else into it (even the hobgoblin). So Spock's got the count (and he doesn't do what Jim does, what with the one, two, skip a few…) and Jim grabs his hand, taking them away from the Vulcan, being extra quiet. Bones doesn't ask how he became so efficient at silence (especially considering the Captain doesn't know how to shut up most of the time). He just follows Jim into the thick underbrush of the forest. When they're settled, Jim leans against him, bringing Bones' ear closer to his lips and whispering the stories of how he and Sam used to play when they were little. He tells Bones how he could hide for hours until an adult came out yelling his name, and he had to forfeit his spot. He tells Bones what to do if Spock comes close ('be quiet, and tuck your head into your knees'). Half an hour later, Spock finally stumbles across them, but only because Jim is snickering (that's the third time he's passed them).

Eighteen:

Jim never tried to contact Carol Marcus until after the Narada incident, and more importantly, after Gaila's death. The Orion girl's death brings something back to Jim; something that Jim can't talk about and something that Bones shouldn't know about. After he cuts the connection, he cries (or at the very least, lets a few tears slip). Bones doesn't say anything as he enters their quarters (completely pretending like he hadn't bribed Chekov to hack into the feed), he just settles down next to Jim, and rubs his back as the Not-Quite Captain stares at the pictures that Joanna had sent them.

Nineteen:

He and Jim, one long, boring night in their second year, decided to make the Academy's statue of Zephram Cochrane anatomically correct. They have never been caught, or even suspected of the crime (unless you count Pike, but his informal reprimand was more laughter than anything else).

Twenty:

Jim has only ever said 'I love you' to four people (he finds this out after Jim's twenty-fourth birthday, while Jim is stumbling into walls and Bones not too far behind him, curmudgeonly hefting Jim up by the collar of that stupid leather jacket). Bones doesn't know who the first three are (Jim only says, 'I love you, Bones, and only three other people have ever been lucky enough to hear that from me'). He can guess, though, and he feels honored to be among them.

Twenty-one:

Sam won't talk to Jim. They don't know why. Bones is surprised Jim even told him. Usually Jim is very hush-hush when it comes to his older brother, preferring to pretend like he never existed passed Jim's eleventh birthday (the only person he lets it slide for is Winona). When Jim tells him about it at about three o'clock in the morning, believing the Doctor to be asleep (and well he should be, but for some reason can't quite settle, even with Jim's comforting presence weighing him down), Bones almost startles. The hushed whisper of, 'I found out Sam lives in Nevada,' is almost enough to make him open his eyes, but Jim would know, and he would be quiet, and Bones is curious. 'I tried talking to him about a week ago…but he won't return my messages.' There's a gentle scrape of lashes against his shoulder. The apology escapes almost as lightly as the hairs lining Jim's eyes against his skin. Jim laughs, not humorously. 'I should have known he wouldn't.'

Twenty-two:

Jim's favorite word is 'lackadaisical.' It has everything thing to do with fact that the word 'daisy' is stuffed halfway through, reminding Jim of some of his better memories, where there are ongoing fields of green grass and the sweet smell of summer.

Twenty-three:

Uhura is the most beautiful woman Jim knows. He explained this to one of the pieces of sideline fluff one afternoon as they watched Uhura swiftly exit the lecture room, her high ponytail swinging behind her. It was the first time most of them had seen the hair-style, and the girl had sneered about it (mainly because Jim watched Uhura leave with respect in his eyes). She had called the hair-style austere and frigid. Jim had glared at her briefly before continuing his evaluation. 'I think it's beautiful.'

Bones had given Jim a glance (this was before they had even considered each other, but it still helped to know who he was up against, even if he wasn't interested) and the girl sitting close to Jim smiled, as if she knew Jim inside and out. 'You think everything's hot, huh, Jimmy?'

Jim tensed, because he didn't like being called 'Jimmy,' and he didn't like people assuming shit about him. He gave her a hard look, uncharacteristically cold as he told the girl seated next to him, 'I said beautiful. There is a difference. Hot is something that's achieved with the right outfit and a good pose. Anyone can be 'hot.' Beautiful is something soul-deep. It's something only confidence can provide.' He glared at her, blue eyes furious with an anger Bones had yet to categorize. He told the girl, in more of a growl than anything else, 'you would do well to remember that.'

He then left, loping out of the hall as if he hadn't just chewed his arm candy and spit her back out. When Bones caught up with him, he was talking to Uhura, with that damn smirk (Bones noticed even then that it never reached his eyes). Uhura indulged the blond man, giving him a patronizing tap to the cheek before she left him standing there.

Twenty-four:

Gaila was the only woman Jim had an 'affair' with during his time at the Academy that he had any emotional attachment to. Even years after her demise on the Farragut, Jim still can't vocalize what she meant to him, or his sorrow at the fact that he had taken advantage of her. Bones knows that Jim had always thought he'd have the chance to apologize. The fact that he never could is a constant dark cloud, hovering at the back of his mind.

Twenty-five:

Tarsus IV remains, to date, the only thing that will get Jim truly violent. Bones has only seen it three times before and all three times the Doctor has had to fix Jim's fractured knuckles, as well as sooth Jim from his damn-near impenetrable, and terrifying rage.

Twenty-six:

He bought purple socks just so something would be different about him in the Academy. They're knee-high so the stick above his boot. No one sees them, except for Bones and Jim, but it's the fact that he knows they're there that makes the difference to Jim.

Twenty-seven:

Jim has shot an actual, antique revolver, dating all the way back to the twentieth century. Bones is impressed with that bit of information and tickled (though he would never use that word to describe it) when Jim goes into details about how he tried to shoot that damn whiskey bottle sixty times and only succeeded in gifting it with a dirt halo.

Twenty-eight:

The first year of on the Enterprise Jim asked Sulu to teach him fencing. He took to the attack moves fairly quickly, but oddly enough stuttered when it came to the defenses. After a while he understood the entire art of body-language ('Sulu says it's all in the body language. You have to appreciate the subtlety of muscles and how they give everything away.') Bones shouldn't be shocked, but he really is, when Jim actually has to use his fencing knowledge on an away mission.

Twenty-nine:

For Bones' twenty-ninth birthday, Jim rode a mechanical bull for a fair amount of time. He told most people that he was trying to beat some asinine record that the club had. What he told Bones, however, was that he was trying to goad the birthday boy into showing all the clowns at the bar up ('You broke horses, Bones. A mechanical bull can't be that hard.').

Thirty:

Jim always has four different types of toothpaste at any given time, not including Bones'. He does this because he's never sure what flavor he wants to start the day off with.

Thirty-one:

Jim's first broken bone was his wrist. He doesn't tell anyone about this because it (and he quotes) isn't really that great of a story. He broke it when he fell off his bike into a ditch in his attempt not to run over a butterfly (at Bones' snickering, Jim yells, 'I was four!').

Thirty-two:

He talks to himself when he's really tired and he thinks there's no one else to talk to him. One night Bones listened for a good thirty minutes as Jim just went on and on with himself about Ancient Greek deities, listing them off and giving himself amusing anecdotes about each one ('Poor Hera...the goddess of marriage who never wished to be married').

Thirty-three:

Jim tells him one afternoon, after a particularly useless argument that they had all but forgotten about three seconds after it ended, that Bones could never leave him. He says with a smug grin that they would forever be together in life…and even in death, because Jim was going to buy them two plots of land next two each other for when they died. The smile that accompanies that simple statement is what clinches the deal for Bones. Even if Jim doesn't buy the land, the Doctor thinks he might.

Thirty-four:

Jim had never been to the East Coast before he went back to Georgia with Bones during Fall Break their second year.

Thirty-five:

He played dress-up with Joanna and then proceeded to have a tea party with her, wearing a big, floppy, pale green bonnet, and even going as far as to answer to Ms. Dot. Jim doesn't know that Bones knows this. It's his own well-kept secret, recorded as a holovid (and hidden under lock and key) by Bones from his position in the hall just outside Jim's field of view.

Thirty-six:

Jim can't help but flinch when someone tells him, 'You're not a parent. You don't understand.' He always manages to recover beautifully, better than the Doctor would in his position. He passes it off as an involuntary response to parents in general, claiming, 'You don't understand, either. You don't remember what it's like to be a child.' It often leaves Bones wondering about the dichotomy of James Kirk, who can purposefully omit his child from friends, yet keep him so close to his heart.

Thirty-seven:

Jim owns a copy of Steamboat Willy, the classic cartoon by Walt Disney. He has it on a 'newly' remastered holovid, and he tells Bones as he sets it up to play that it once belonged to his father. There have been several (or at least three) remastered vids of Steamboat Willy since his father watched that copy, but to Jim, none will ever quite hold the value of that one. His mother used to tell him stories when he was young (huddled under a blanket with her arms wrapped securely around him). Jim says it was almost like having him there.

Thirty-eight:

He adores that Chekov's Standard isn't perfect. He says it pays a certain homage to his heritage and that his accent is a great nod to the history the Earth had to suffer through before it became as it was today. He also enjoys that the kid can't pronounce the Standard 'V' to save his life. 'It's just icing on the cake when that kid has to say vessels, Bones. Nothing beats it.'

Thirty-nine:

This one is more about Nyota than Jim, but he keeps it just the same due to the fact that it still involves Jim. Their Communications Officer, despite her blatant dislike and obvious exasperation with their Captain, is always the first one to visit Jim after he's been confined to Sickbay after an away mission. She sits down next to him, awake or not, and she berates him for being that damn stupid and for having the gall to make it look like bravery. She tells him that he shouldn't go around making his foolishness look so easy and fun in front of the crew, because most of them are still impressionable and before they know it, the entire populous of the Enterprise is going to be regurgitating retardation. Of course, the speech varies all the time, becoming more vehement the angrier she is. If he's asleep through her tirade, she'll usually sigh and shake her head at herself for wasting her breath on someone who wouldn't pay attention to her even if he were awake. Then again, if he is awake, she'll smack him upside the head (or somewhere else if his head has taken an injury worse than just being attached to his shoulders), and mutter something under her breath that has Jim smiling like an idiot. When she leaves, there's always a scowl on her face, but just like the rest of their damn masochistic staff, there's always something of affection loosening the muscles around her eyes.

Forty:

The first Easter on board the Enterprise, Jim coerced the Doctor to help hide eggs that he had dyed the night before, and then used his charming personality (and Chekov's undeniable excitement) to get the rest of the crew to go on an egg hunt. He claimed that the first one to find the only white egg they had hidden would be spared the monthly morale meeting. It was almost unbelievable how that got the crew to play along. Bones nearly died of laughter when Spock came out of the kitchen with one white egg.

Forty-one:

Jim's comfort food is sugar cookies, slightly burned on the bottom (because mom lost track of time playing Farkle with him and Sam), and with smiley-faces half melted in the center (because he and his mother weren't patient enough to wait for the cookies to cool). It's probably one of Jim's only completely positive memories of his mother, Bones thinks. Not that growing up with his mother was a bad thing, but there is always an undercurrent of something so completely heartbreaking when he talks about life with Winona and of growing up in general.

Forty-two:

Bones is Jim's 'unmentionable,' and Spock is his best friend. But Scotty also has a special place in Jim's life, as his sidekick. It's funny the way the Scot preens at that label, acting like a damn peacock when Jim says 'if it weren't for Scotty, we'd all be running around with our thumbs up our asses.' It's even funnier when Spock asks Jim to explain that metaphor to him.

Forty-three:

He has a fear of Shuttle 37. He says it's a trick omen. He tells Bones, as they're walking towards the shuttle bay, that Shuttle 37 has always guaranteed him safety ('it's the shuttle I was born on--the shuttle I jumped from to disengage the Romulan drill'), at the price of something else, something he thinks is just that little bit more important ('it was the shuttle that took me away from an exploding ship and from my father—it was the shuttle that brought Admiral Pike endless hours of torture and the destruction of Vulcan.')

Forty-four:

Jim does not like, nor has he ever liked, 'Yo Mama!' jokes. They just go against all that is good in the universe, according to him.

Forty-five:

His favorite hiding spot aboard the Enterprise is the observation deck. Really, it isn't much of a hiding spot. Everyone who really knows the captain knows that he spend a lot of time there, staring at the stars with a lost and almost vacant sort of expression glittering in the finite blue space in his eyes. But he goes there to get away. Jim sits and he stares at specs of light that are hundreds of years old by the time they even reach his eyes. And he forgets. He forgets that he is his father's son, and that his brother left him, and that his mother worked twice as hard as anyone should to help him have a life that he still could never have had. He forgets about Tarsus IV, and that he doesn't have David. He forgets that Vulcan is gone, and that he can't seem to go on an away mission without it going to hell. He forgets everything…except the bare essentials that make up the Captain beneath the surface.

Forty-six:

The smell of books, real, actual books, what with coarse paper bound with glue and written with ink, gets Jim horny. Not just horny, but this, this look takes over his face. His eyes dilate and his mouth falls open at the smell of must and imagination and he gets this look like he's possessed and that all but says 'You've got ten seconds to get me out of here and somewhere horizontal or we're just going to be doing this against the bookshelf.' (Bones would like to point out that bookshelves are not comfortable, but for impromptu sex, they ain't half-bad)

Forty-seven:

Jim learned how to french-braid from Nyota, and every time he sees Joanna he asks if he can braid her hair. When she sits in front of him on the couch, he takes the brush to her hair and gently removes all of the tangles and rat's nest in her long (and getting longer every time they see her), mahogany tresses. Bones watches from his usual seat in the recliner as Jim twirls and twists Jo's hair, starting halfway up the crown of her head (and kissing her forehead while she's looking up at the ceiling) and working all the way down to the nape of her neck before tying it off with a rubberband. It's one of Bones' favorite traditions between his daughter and Jim, and he admits to himself that he cherishes those memories more than he ever cherished Jocelyn.

Forty-eight:

He has gotten Spock to curse once. Just one measly 'hell,' but Jim gloats about it like he solved universal hunger single-handedly.

Forty-nine:

When they're alone in their quarters, away from the ears of the crew, and whatever ambassadors or refugees they have to transport to and fro between missions, Jim likes for Bones to call him 'darlin.' He likes it anyway he can get it, and Bones never fails to deliver, because he likes to see his Captain smile. However, Jim has responded the best to having 'darlin' whispered in his ear, bodies close and intimate. He always turns towards Bones, smile playing his lips as he presses kisses (messy or otherwise) up Bones neck in an epic journey to discover Bones mouth.

Fifty:

Bones is Jim's favorite secret.

1. I so got this from Annime1231 from her Reboot Meme.

23. I don't know why this one wouldn't let me go. But I had to write that entire sequence or it just didn't feel right.

InnocentGuilt