Author's Note: The quote comes from "The Disease" (VOY). Harry Kim parrots off the regulation to Janeway shortly after disobeying it. No canon evidence that the regulation was written in time for TOS, or the reboot, but pretty to think so...

"All Starfleet personnel must obtain authorization from their commanding officer as well as clearance from their medical officer before initiating an intimate relationship with an alien species." - Starfleet Handbook on Personal Relationships

* * *

It was a terrible dance, one they did every few months. Regulations stated that Leonard had to fill out paperwork whenever Jim wanted to get carried away while on shore leave, or planned on entertaining a particularly progressive diplomat, or...

So Jim would be vague and suggestive, and Leonard would be insistant and irritated. Jim would wink, Leonard would roll his eyes, and eventually the captain would wrestle a signature from his doctor. It was one of those duties that Leonard had really not given enough thought to when he took the post, just like diagnosing his best friend's weird rashes upon his return.

They were overdue for one of those awkward conversations, Leonard realized as the captain shuffled into his office. It had been half an Earth year since the last time Jim had come in with that 'aw shucks' grin, but the doctor could still tell just by looking at him which form he would be filling out.

"How are ya, Jim? Eating enough lettuce?" It was a running joke from their crash-course command training-- that commanders have to eat well to set a good example, or else the whole crew would binge on replicated Twinkies or some similar nonsense.

Jim smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "As much of it as you can prescribe." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I've got to ask you a question."

Oh boy, here it comes. "Is it related to 'interstellar diplomacy'?"

Jim gave a shaky laugh. "And I thought I was being subtle. Dammit... Bones, what's the intent behind that regulation?" Jim began pacing the narrow stretch of floor beside the desk.

"To force me into early retirement?" His wit was only rewarded with a mild glare, and more pacing. "Oh, come on now. You know the risks of having sex with a strange species. It's not like the Federation can afford to lose its youngest captain just because he has a thing for tentacles."

Jim didn't even bat an eye at the tentacle jibe. "Is it just about ensuring my safety, then?" The question had a strange intensity to it, one Leonard could not quite place.

"And probably maintaining suitable diplomatic relations, but that's not the side my paperwork covers." Pacing and glaring was not their regular waltz around this topic. Something was going on. "Jim, what is it really? You look like hell."

"I doubt the diplomats will be worried," Jim muttered, and gave the leg of the desk a little kick. It was a gesture of frustration, one Leonard had not seen in awhile.

Leonard just watched him, and waited. Step, step, pivot. Step, step, pivot.

When Jim finally spoke, he was still looking at the floor. "How alien does the 'alien species' have to be for you to be concerned?"

The good doctor finally realized what was making this conversation different from all the others, though he could not for the life of him imagine why. "You're trying to keep this one from me, aren't you... But you've always used the paperwork as Federation-approved bragging rights. What makes this one any different?"

Step, step, pivot. "I could order you to answer me, you know." Jim sounded drained, frustrated.

"You really going to pull rank over this?"

"If I have to, yes."

"Well, damn." Leonard whistled, soft and slow. "This one is serious, isn't it?" He got no answer, and decided to change tactics. "You off duty?" He reached into his bottom desk drawer and grabbed the bottle of Jack that he had stashed there. It and two shot glasses would make a party, maybe enough of one that Jim would let loose whatever was bothering him.

At the sight of the bottle, Jim finally sat. He downed one shot with feeling, and then studied the glass. Federation-issue, of all things.

Leonard did a shot of his own, and then let his glass rest on the desk. "I have to at least know the species before I can sign off, you know."

"I know." The silence was amicable, and Leonard did his best to avoid badgering Jim with questions. Being a good doctor, or a good friend, often meant knowing when to shut up, and Leonard was doing his damndest to excel at both right then.

Jim took another shot, and another, then let his glass thud onto the desk alongside Leonard's. "Vulcan, Bones. Half fucking vulcan."

"Huh. Didn't know there was another one." The hum of the ship did not cover Jim's snort, and Bones looked up. It couldn't be... "No. No way. Isn't he still with Uhura, and... you don't like men, and-- Spock?!" Now it was Jim who was being patiently silent, head in his hands. "Shit."

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "Shit."