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Doubt (Do We Need to Hug It Out?)

First they make a toast to all the lives lost in the battle against the time traveling Romulans. Then they make another toast to Captain James Tiberius Kirk, the youngest in Starfleet history to attain that title. Then they get absolutely smashed.

Except Captain James Tiberius Kirk, who is sitting at the bar and brooding over his single bottle and glass of Budweiser Classic, and has been doing so for the past two hours while everybody else is having a ball and finding out how to work the ancient jukebox sitting in the corner of the establishment.

It is former Captain Spock - who appears an hour after the celebrations have begun with a very enlightened look on his face, one which soon melts into open affection when Lieutenant Uhura brushes by and smiles at him before joining several ensigns for another toast - who seeks him out and tells him, "Something ails the captain. Perhaps you should go talk to him, and offer him some compantionship and comfort from the thoughts that are troubling his mind."

Bones is far from smashed - aside from Engineer Scott he has the best tolerance on the ship - so he understands everything Spock tells him and everything Spock wants of him, and grudgingly agrees before making a beeline for the hunched man at the counter.

"You should be drunk, Jim," he says quietly as he slides into the stool next to the captain.

"Yeah, well..." Kirk is slowly swirling the amber contents of this glass, studying it with his darkened eyes. Bones glances at the beer bottle; it's not even halfway empty.

"Good god, man, you didn't even pour the entire thing." Bones reaches over and grabs it. He takes a swig and barely hides the face he wants to make; he definitely prefers his whiskey to this cheap crap.

Kirk says nothing, hasn't even moved from his slouched position, chin on his hand while the other slides the glass around the smooth yet slightly sticky surface in wandering circles.

Bones sighs. "What's troubling you, kid?"

"Nothing. Just...what if I don't get my ship, Bones? What if they don't give me the Enterprise?"

The doctor raises an eyebrow at the uncertainty in his voice. "I'm sure Captain-Admiral Pike can sway things in your favor-"

"I'm only twenty-five, Bones. Three years. Just three years. Beat Pike's record, too. I don't think they're going to let me have her."

"...who?"

Kirk shrugs. "Y'know, the admirals and the other captains. People who earned it, went through years of hardship to get where they are. I just got lucky."

"Damn lucky," Bones agrees, and takes another swig from the bottle because there's nothing else to drink. "But you proved it, didn't you? Showed them you could commandeer a goddamn starship, and save Earth. How can they say no to that?"

"Bones, I wasn't even supposed to be on the-"

"Yeah, I know," he snorts, setting the bottle down on the counter hard. "I dragged your sorry ass into the shuttlecraft, remember? Broke a couple of regulations, a couple of rules just to get you up in space where you belong."

"And you were a great Chief Medical Officer, did you know that?" Kirk suddenly says, eyes sliding over to Bones while the doom and gloom breaks with the first smile Bones sees this evening. "You were only a cadet, just like me, just like a lot of people on that ship, and you did just fine. You definitely belong on theEnterprise."

"Fat chance," Bones mutters, although he did feel at home in that position. Like a second home. Almost. But like he said, he broke a hell lot of regulations bringing a suspended cadet with him up to Starfleet's shiny flagship. "Unless they'e got a shortage of CMOs or something-"

"Don't you worry, Bones. Once I argue my way back into the captain's chair I'm picking you up as my CMO." Kirk slowly sits up, and clasps Bones' shoulder. "Will you be there?"

Bones sighs. "What time?"

"Eight hundred, sharp."

"I'll make sure you wake up on time."

Kirk flashes a dazzling grin, looking like his old self again. "Thanks, Bones."

Bones watches him leave, watches him wave to his fellow crewmates, salute them and give quite a few of them the bird, saunter out like the universe is his for the taking.

"So you have talked to him? Helped him settle the matter?"

Bones picks up the beer bottle again, turns in his stool to look at Spock.

"Yes, you damn hobgoblin. Will you go away; I want to drink in peace."

Spock only gives him a look before wandering off, leaving Bones to summon the bartender and ask for something much stronger than a Budweiser Classic.