I love all the 'Boo Starfleet' that's going on, as well as calls for Jim to save himself or the crew to save him. Come on now! I've already done both in previous stories! I need to try something new :D
There isn't much in this chapter that warrants angst warnings. Unless you read the previous chapter and know that Jim is the most accomplished liar ever. Then, well, angst. You'll be pleased to know I have installed a new Anti-Tribble defense system around my house: a feline defense system, which promises to be far more fearsome than the puppy. Do your worst!
"That is an ungodly amount of pancakes, Bones." McCoy looked up to see Jim in the kitchen doorway, still dressed in the same clothes as last night.
"Do I want to know what kept you with Archer all night?" McCoy asked, "Or why you have no OJ?"
Jim blinked in surprise. "Oh. Shit. Sorry Bones." He said sheepishly. "Kinda slipped my mind."
"I guessed." McCoy had replicated coffee, trying not to let on how worried he'd been when he'd woken up from Jim's insanely comfortable couch to find that he was still gone. He'd called Archer's secretary and it was only the reassurance that Jim was still at Command that stopped him from a full blown freakout. "Everything okay?"
Jim rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine."
"So you spent six hours at Command for shits and giggles?" McCoy didn't like the way they could just call and Jim would come running. Okay, fine, so it was his job, but McCoy seemed to be the only person who remembered that Jim was still on medical leave. Short of a military invasion, no one should be bothering Jim for anything.
Actually, including a military invasion, because there were other people enlisted in Starfleet and it wasn't Jim's responsibility to do all their jobs for them. If they wanted to pick Jim's brains about something they should have thought of that before they screwed up so royally with Kodos.
"It's fine." Jim dropped down at the kitchen table and bit his thumbnail absently.
"Bullshit." McCoy snapped. He knew this pattern by now and was sick of Jim taking so much on to his plate. He needed to rest, damnit. "What the hell was so important that it couldn't wait until morning?"
"It's a little above your pay grade." Jim said, not unkindly but with a finality that said if McCoy wanted to push the matter things would get ugly real quick. "I've sorted it, you don't need to worry."
"Of course I worry." McCoy huffed. He wanted to know, but he could see the lines at the corners of Jim's eyes and the unconscious curl of his shoulders. Whatever had Jim so worked up, it wasn't worth upsetting him more by harassing him about it. He dropped the subject. "You got plans?"
Jim suddenly lit up. "Yeah. We're taking Jo to the zoo. Like we said we would three years ago."
"That wasn't quite what I had in mind."
"Tough." Jim said firmly. "Jo and I are going. You can tag along and be grumpy or you can come and buy us ice cream. Either way your participation is mandatory."
"Do I get a choice?" McCoy said dryly. In truth there were worst things they could be doing he supposed, and he had promised Jo he'd take her to the zoo so many times only to be thwarted in his efforts. "Fine."
"Jo!" Jim yelled through the apartment. "Come grab breakfast! We're going to the zoo!"
The squeal of delight told him all he needed to know about his daughter's opinion on the matter. "Fine." He huffed. "Now eat your damn pancakes."
The café was bustling with life forms both human and otherwise. In five hours, it would become one of San Francisco's trendier nightclubs, but while the sun was up it was filled with everyone from young businessmen to aliens fresh out of the black. McCoy and Jim had been visiting almost as long as they had been in the city and the rest of the senior crew had started to frequent when it became clear that the staff and clientele alike were wholly uninterested in how many times they had saved the planet. After a long day being dragged to look at every exotic animal in the quadrant, McCoy appreciated the familiarity.
"You know," Jim slid into the last seat of the overpopulated booth, a tray balanced on one arm, and started to hand out drinks, "when I ordered this multicolored frufru monstrosity the bartender asked if it was for the smoking hot brunette at my table." He winked at Uhura, who rolled her eyes fondly. "I was gonna say yes, until I remembered she drinks her Jack straight." He slid over her tumbler with a grin and handed the aforementioned frufru monstrosity – a drink piled high with both sparklers and mini cocktail umbrellas – to Sulu.
The helmsman shrugged apologetically. "What? I'm a smoking hot brunette."
Jim threw his head back and laughed, spilling half of Chekov's beer. "True, true. Shame on my gender stereotyping."
"You cannot fault yourself, Captain." Spock said in his usual, oh so serious voice. "You have yet to attend the standard seminars that Command would usually send senior officers on in order to educate them on various matters of behavior and etiquette."
"This is very true." Jim mused. "You hear that, Bones? This means I can blame all of those awesome personality defects you think I have on the fact that Starfleet haven't educated me better." McCoy glared at him and snatched his scotch from Jim's hands with an ill-tempered grumble. "Wait," Jim suddenly frowned. "Seminars? As in plural? As in more than one?"
"That is the definition of 'plural'." Uhura said cheekily. Jim stuck his tongue out at her. Poor Jim. More ass kissing to be done.
As Jim panicked about days spent locked back in classrooms being taught how to play nicely with the other kids, McCoy settled back in the booth, comfortably aware of the conversations that took place around him. Occasionally he joined in, but he, like Jim, seemed content to just spend time with this odd collection of people.
Jim had called and they had all come running, both eager to spend time with Jim, and to investigate his health for themselves.
McCoy was drifting on the good company and almost as satisfying alcohol when his name caught his attention.
"-she thought it was cute!" Uhura giggled. For a woman who liked her drinks strong enough to strip paint, she was a real lightweight.
"What's cute?" McCoy asked, only just paying attention.
"You and Kirk." That got him a grin from the others.
"Why are we cute?" Jim piped up curiously.
"Oh she's convinced Joanna has two daddies." Uhura laughed, clapping her hands together and giving no indication of who 'she' was.
"It is rather unlikely given the complicated nature of the science." Spock mused out loud, causing McCoy to roll his eyes and Jim to clutch at his ribs in silent laughter.
"Bones!" He choked out between giggles, "You cradle robber!"
That was a direct attempt to wind him up and of course it worked. "Cradle robber? I'm six years older than you. Six!"
"And Jo's eight this year, which means I was a sweet, adorable teenager when you knocked me up!" Tears of laughter were streaming down Jim's face, the whiskey in his glass almost drained down to the dregs.
"More like a petulant delinquent." McCoy fired back.
"Nothing changed there then!" Scotty sniggered, ignoring Jim's halfhearted swat.
"You didn't even make an honest woman out of me, you cad." Jim whined, ordering them all another round with a wave of his hand.
"At least you admit you are the woman in this equation." McCoy humped, not at all sure how they ended up talking such nonsense.
Jim looked affronted. "Of course I am. The idea of you with those kind of hormones in your system is, quite frankly, terrifying. You'd have killed someone."
McCoy thought about it for a moment. There had been times when he'd expected Joce to stab him with a kitchen knife or smother him in his sleep with a pillow, so Jim probably wasn't far off the mark.
His silence said everything and the table dissolved into laughter.
"How is she, anyway?" Uhura asked about Jo.
"Joce is staying with her until we get back, she's flying back to Georgia for business in the morning." McCoy explained.
Uhura raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Your ex-wife is watching your daughter in Jim's apartment while you go out?" She leaned over and punched Jim lightly in the arm. "You are the other woman."
"And I didn't even get a honeymoon out of it." Jim said, all pout and sad eyes. McCoy kicked him under the table, immune to his yelp. "And he's mean."
"Oh my god you two are ridiculous." Uhura giggled. "How did I never know this when we studied together?"
"You were too busy trying to grind my balls to make your bread?" Jim shrugged.
"He was a little shit." McCoy said apologetically. "You can't take all the blame."
"She can take some of it!" Jim protested. "Innocent party, here!"
"I caught you having sex in my bed, Kirk." Uhura pointed out.
Jim cringed. "Okay, that was once-"
"Twice."
"Circumstances-"
"My bed!"
"You should probably just apologize to the lady." McCoy nudged Jim with his elbow, making Jim spill yet another drink.
"Nope." Jim said stubbornly. "Well, okay, I mean I will for the whole bed thing because yeah, Gaila and I might have got a bit carried away-" Uhura choked on his drink in disbelief but Jim carried on regardless, "-but that's all. Hitting on you was the smartest thing I ever did, drunk or sober."
"Oh really?" Uhura chuckled dryly.
"Yes." Jim said, suddenly serious and sounding far less like the happy drunk than he did a moment ago. "Got me here, didn't it?"
McCoy could tell that response shocked her because she didn't respond, just looked at Jim with a slightly stunned expression, then leaned over and pressed a small kiss on the corner of Jim's mouth. It wasn't in the least bit sexual, especially considering that she was practically sat on Spock's lap when she did it, but Jim's answering smile could have powered entire solar systems.
He then broke the silence by grinning his best roguish grin. "You know I'd have guessed your name was Nyota eventually."
And just like that, she was rolling her eyes at him again and the laughter continued.
Spock caught his gaze across the table, his expression placid but his dark eyes troubled.
McCoy sympathized.
They were missing something here.
McCoy hovered in the doorway, listening fondly as Jim tucked the sheets up to Joanna's chin, following the ritual they had adopted when Jo was very little. Joce had left a few minutes after their arrival and Jo had sleepily demanded goodnight kisses.
"Night Uncle Jim." Joanna sighed sleepily, her cheek pressed against the pillows and her eyes closed.
Jim dropped a kiss to her forehead and stroked her hair back tenderly. "Night sweetheart." He hesitated a moment, his face hidden from McCoy by the shadows of the dark room. "I love you, you know that right?"
"I know." Joanna peeked open her eyes. "Love you too."
"Nothing will ever change that." Jim swore, his voice sounding thick even from across the room. "Nothing. No matter what anyone tells you."
He kissed her forehead again then left the room quickly, almost bumping right into McCoy who was partially hidden by the dark. Jim jumped as their shoulders collided and McCoy caught a glimpse of tears on his cheeks that immediately sent every protective instinct he had into overdrive.
"Jim," He grabbed Jim's arm to keep him from retreating, both into the kitchen and into himself. "What's the matter?" Jim shook his head.
"Nothing," He said gruffly. "I'm fine."
"Bullshit." McCoy said, then softened his tone at the obvious distress Jim was in. "Talk to me, kid. Something's been off with you all day."
Jim swallowed brokenly and rubbed the tears from his face with the back of his arm. "It's nothing. I just….guess it's been a long couple of weeks."
McCoy's heart broke even as he kicked himself for his stupidity. How often did he find himself telling Command, Spock and Jim himself that he was bound to be emotional? That even when you had good days, the type of thing he'd endured at Kodos's hands would bring nightmares to anyone? And that was before you took everything else into account. The press conference the day before had literally seen Jim picking open some of his deepest wounds and baring them for the Federation to see. Of course he was going to feel upset and shaky. The behavior at the bar made far more sense from that angle of perspective. Manic happiness was on the same axis as depression, as well as anger. Mood swings were to be expected.
Without even thinking, he pulled Jim into his arms and squeezed him tightly. He knew he right when Jim practically crushed his ribs in response, all but clinging to him with desperation.
"Easy kiddo," McCoy said, gruffly affectionate with Jim as he always was whenever the young, vulnerable part of his friend made itself known. Too much and Jim ran, not enough and he convinced himself he was weak for needing the comfort. It was a fine line, but remarkably easier to balance now than it was when they were younger. And less painful. The first time McCoy had hugged him, Jim had punched him in the jaw. There was no punching any more, and McCoy had finally convinced Jim that this was okay to want, to need. McCoy wasn't judging him and didn't want anything in return.
McCoy kissed his forehead the way Jim had done with Joanna, then swung an arm around Jim's neck and pulled him into a loose headlock. "Come on brat, let's go make sure Spock hasn't started alphabetizing your holo selections."
Jim didn't say anything in protest and allowed McCoy to haul him towards the couch before dumping him on Spock. "Don't let him wander off." McCoy told Spock, who had been waiting patiently. "Sit on him if you have to."
"That was a figure of speech." Jim said wearily to his XO. Jim had started to show signs of fatigue, even if he didn't want to admit it. McCoy had made excuses for them and Spock would have tagged along even if Jim hadn't asked him to. It had taken nearly twenty minutes for Jim to hug each and every one of them, loose limbed and affectionate as he always was when he'd had a few drinks. There would be more drinking, if McCoy had his say in the matter.
"No it wasn't." McCoy grinned. "Keep his ass on that couch while I go grab something."
He left Jim spluttering protests at Spock and darted to the hallway closet. Jim never used it, which was how McCoy had managed to hide Jim's birthday present there for nearly six weeks. Hide in plain sight, right?
He'd had it wrapped in store and the metallic surface had a dull gleam not unlike the hull of the Enterprise. Jim frowned at him when McCoy returned and thrust it into his hands.
"I was not aware that it was the anniversary of your birth, Jim." Spock looked troubled and the prospect of having missed it.
"It's not." Jim said, grinning like a little boy as he touched the wrapping reverently. "That's another few weeks away. Bones is just a sentimental bastard."
"I see." Spock said, most likely lying out of his ass.
"My birthday's never really been…" Jim struggled to find the words to describe the annual clusterfuck that was his birthday, so McCoy took over.
"His birthday sucks. We decided to get flexible."
"You decided." Jim snorted.
"Pike and I decided." McCoy countered, watching Jim carefully at the mention of his long time mentor. Jim just smiled. "Now open it already. The suspense is killing me."
"Surely you know what the item inside is, Doctor, since you purchased it yourself?"
"That was a figure of speech." McCoy said dryly.
"Perhaps you should be more specific in your use of language." Spock responded, his voice equally acetic.
"Are you ladies done?" Jim laughed, thumbing open the wrapping with the slow carefulness of someone who had not received enough gifts in his life to leave any part of the process unappreciated. When he finally removed the item from his packaging, he threw his head back and laughed.
"Oh my god. That's awesome. Thanks Bones!" He set a large model of the Enterprise down on his coffee table and removed the nacelles, which turned into beakers. He then opened the cargo bag hatch and tipped the ship on its side, pouring out the whiskey inside. "Scotty is going to be so jealous. Where the hell did you find this?"
"Some gift shop in town." McCoy chuckled. "I nearly got you the James T. Kirk action figure that goes with it but they were sold out."
"I have an action figure?" Jim blinked, clearly uncertain if the news was disturbing or awesome.
"Yep." McCoy laughed. "You too, Spock." So did he, but he'd be damned if he said as much. Spock tilted his head to one side, obviously bewildered by strange human quirks as always, while Jim took great glee in pouring drinks from a replica of his ship.
"You want?" Jim offered Spock after handing McCoy the first of the beakers.
Spock shook his head, then somewhat reluctantly placed a bottle of expensive chocolate milk on the table. "Since you invited me here with the express purpose of 'continuing to get completely fucking shitfaced', I felt it only in the spirit of companionship to come prepared."
"Did you just say 'fuck'?" Jim gaped, scandalized.
"Yes, Jim," Spock responded in that endlessly patient way of his and McCoy snickered into his beaker of whiskey. "I did."
"Well fuck me," Jim drank the entire contents of his beaker in one and refilled. Neither Spock nor McCoy commented. When Jim drank, he drank hard.
Spock's expression as he drank the chocolate milk provided enough material for Jim and McCoy got giggle in increasingly more inebriated fashions for another twenty minutes, but it was something, watching the way those sharp lines of his shoulders softened ever so gradually.
By the time the milk was gone and the Enterprise had been drained of its very last drop, all three of them were slumped on Jim's couch, long limbs vying for space they didn't have, utterly relaxed in each others company.
Jim was clearly three sheets to the wind, because he looked at them both, his blue eyes wide and glassy, and said, "I love you both, you know that right?" They were the same words he had said to Joanna and McCoy felt himself smile drunkenly.
"Even though I didn't take you on a honeymoon?"
"I mean it." Jim said.
"Aw kid," McCoy grinned and nudged Jim's leg with his knee. "You're a sentimental fucking drunk."
Jim shrugged. "I guess."
"I think we killed Spock." McCoy said with absolutely no concern in his voice. He felt Jim lean over and give Spock a gentle shake. He received a bemused groan in response. "You get to explain this to Uhura in the morning."
"I'd love to." Jim said quietly. He climbed off the couch and fetched a blanket to tuck over Spock's legs.
"Hmm." McCoy leaned his head back against the couch and felt himself become boneless. God, this really was an epic couch. "What're you doin'?" He asked blearily when he realized Jim was tucking another blanket over him. "How are you not as drunk as I am? Get back down here."
"I-I just need a little fresh air."
McCoy frowned up at him blearily. Jim's face was blurred with both alcohol and tiredness. "Okay, balcony?" He started to push himself up but Jim pressed a hand down on his chest.
"Stay here." He said gently. "I'll be fine."
"Hmmm." McCoy agreed. Even Jim couldn't get into any trouble on his own balcony. "Wake me up in a bit?" He asked sleepily, closing his eyes and succumbing to sleep.
He felt something splash on his cheek, but it wasn't cold and he was too comfortable to move and brush it off.
"Okay Bones." He heard Jim say.
Then he slept.