Sweet Waiting

Chapter 4: Unlikely Happenings

Jim's shift was a drag. Commander Pike kept him inside, working communications and scrubbing dishes for the most part, which made the time only pass more slowly. Though, there might be some action on the way. According to Pavel Chekov, who runs all communications and also works as their radar technician, there's a storm brewing up further west, might hit Oregon-or northern California. How big the storm is, they don't know.

Or it could pass them completely.

Rubbing his neck, Jim sighs. His neck aches from looking down at the sink all day, helping the cook dish out a few plates to working coast guards.

At eight, Bones roles in with his dirty pickup truck, honking the horn to let him know he's there to pick him up. Jim has a motorcycle he rides, but during the cold months Bones doesn't let him ride it, instead he's forced to have his best friend pick him up like a little kid.

He groans, snatching his coat and popping his arms through it, saying quick goodbyes to Chekov and Sulu before heading out.

The cold winter air hits him the second he steps out, breath fogging before him like fluffy puffs of steam out of a train. Another honk from Bones gets him moving faster to the car, grumbling the whole way there. Damn southerner, has zero patience.

"Impatient bastard." Jim mutters, swinging the door open and promptly sitting down and continuing to slam the door.

Bones cringes, "Don't vent on my baby."

"It's an inanimate object Bones, it can't feel me slamming it." Jim retorts, shaking his head, "Yeah well, remind me to key your motorcycle when we get home, see how that feels." Bones replies, smirking at Jim's disgusted face.

"Now that would be damaging private property Bones."

Bones huffs, "Yeah, and you slamming my door off of its hinges isn't damaging?"

He rolls his eyes, "Damaging what? Your car or your eardrums?"

"Well now that you mention it, maybe a bit of both."

"Ugh," Jim massages his temples, "Can we just go home?"

There's a sigh and Bones' playful tone softens, "Yeah, I'll take you home."

Jim lets the familiar gurgling hum of the engine calm him, watching through the window as the ocean disappears from sight and is replaced by large buildings and bundled people. The wintery weather is leaving quickly, soon to be replaced by springtime, which means Bones will let him ride his motorcycle.

"How was work?"

He shrugs, barely casting Bones a glance, "It was okay."

Bones hums, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, "Are you okay?"

Jim nods, turning his head to meet Bones' rich hazel eyes, "Yeah, I'm okay."

The southerner gives him a squint and Jim smiles and shakes his head, "Hey, better not lie to me Jim-you know where liars go?"

He nearly sighs, he's heard this one countless times.

"Hell, Bones. They go to hell."

Bones nods dramatically, "That's right kid."

"Did they teach you that one down south?"

His friend snorts, "Ah, us southerners aren't scared of hell Jim."

Jim turns away, "Certainly didn't teach any of you guys manners."

"What's that Jim? Did ya say something about my southern charm?" Bones pipes up, slowing the car down for a few pedestrians scurrying across the street.

"All nice things. I promise Bones." Jim grins, earning a smack to the shoulder, "What did I just say about lying kid?"

Bones swings the car into the gravel parking lot for their apartment building. Jim huffs as the engine is turned off and the car fades slowly away with the night.

"Hungry much?"

Jim shakes his head, "I don't think we have food in the house."

Bones hums, "You're probably right."

The two of them don't eat dinner that night, but if Jim wakes up with Bones snuggled up beside him, neither of them mention it in the morning.

Jim's called into full time on Wednesday afternoon, Bones dropping him off during his lunch break, though the doctor appeared to be distressed, and when asked he got shrugged off.

He then spends the time tying up boats and sitting on watch at one of their towers. Sitting against the railing beside him is Sulu, having his back towards the raging waters. Jim continues his stance, peering into his binoculars.

All that's out there is waves, standing tall with foaming snouts, screaming as they crash against the rocks. As beautiful as the sight is, it's also worrisome. He's never seen the ocean so angry before, not since his disaster of a mission.

"Pav says the storm is only going to get worse." Sulu shouts over the winds.

Jim glances down briefly, and then proceeds to look back out. There could be a boat out there.

Hikaru sighs and Jim feels his gaze upon him, "How are you holding up?"

He drops the binoculars, letting them hang loosely around his neck, "Doin' better. I think working is helping."

"That's what they all say."

Jim plops down beside him, letting the ocean become a white noise in the background.

"Just how worse is this storm going to get?"

Sulu shrugs, "I dunno, I don't think we've ever had a storm hit so low on the west coast. Even when we do get storms it usually hits Oregon or Washington-though even then it's highly unlikely, but San Diego? That's unheard of."

Jim purses his lips, glancing over his shoulder to watch the crashing waves, "It's unnatural."

"Quite so I'm afraid."

After their shift they head back, noticing the dropping temperature.

"I don't think it's ever gotten this cold in San Diego before." Sulu comments, rubbing his arms.

Jim nods, the coastal city never really left the temperature range of fifty-to-eighty degrees Fahrenheit. And now that Sulu mentions it, he's been seeing more and more people bundled up in coats. Especially in February.

What is even happening anymore?

They walk to the station, welcoming the familiar warmth.

"Hello guys." Chekov greets, the cheeky Russian boy smiling with energy.

Sulu matches the grin, giving his friend a quick side hug, "Hey Pav, make sure you bring your coat tomorrow, it's getting cold."

Chekov waves him off, scoffing, "In Russia, little kids wear shorts and t-shirts in ten below-I don't need a coat."

Sulu grunts, "Yeah okay Pav."

Jim shakes his head, grinning, but taking things onto a more serious note, "How's that storm doing?"

Pavel's smile fades away, "Not too good, she's getting closer. Commander Pike has ordered a constant watch on it, and if it gets closer within the next twenty hours, we're going to have to call in all boats to dock."

"Well, let's hope it doesn't get any closer." Jim replies and Sulu nods his agreement.

At the end of his shift, Bones comes to pick him up, as always, but this time, there's a look of dread across his face. He knew something had been bugging the southerner but he didn't know it was this bad.

Settling inside the truck he glances over, buckling blindly, "Bones, what's going on?"

"It's Harrison." Bones says, gazing off towards the shoreline, the window fogged from the change of temperature, "What about him?" He implores curiously, brows furrowing in curiosity.

Bones sighs, meeting his gaze with such uncertainty that it makes Jim's heart stop beating for a moment, "He's gone Jim, he ran away."