Spock has just settled into his cabin when he gets the rather confused call from the head of the science department requesting his immediate presence in corridor seven, junction nine on E deck. Spock's never been summoned to a hallway before, so his interest is piqued along with his concern. He received no information beyond his presence being required but as he draws closer, he can hear the commotion.
There are several officers standing around keeping a wide distance from McCoy who keeps gesturing them all back. Security is standing at the ready but look as lost and helpless as everyone else. Pacing like a caged animal in the center of the semi circle of spectators is Jim, yelling and cursing up a storm.
"Bones, this is our chance. If we set an explosive in the engine room we can distract them long enough to escape," declares Jim waving a hypospanner around.
"We can't do that, Jim," placates Leonard, keeping his voice steady and calm as he tries to stand between the looky-loos, security and Jim. "People would get hurt and we don't want anyone to get hurt."
"That doesn't stop them," snarls Jim taking a swing at one of the bystanders. The Ensign gasps and takes a couple of steps back.
God why can't people find something else to gawk at? The crowd is just making it harder to calm Jim. It certainly doesn't help that Jim's managed to arm himself. Jim waving around that tool means Leonard can't get close enough to stick Jim with a hypo. Ideally, Leonard would like to talk it out until Jim comes back to himself but this episode is escalating too quickly and now there are innocent bystanders. "Jim, look at me and only me," pleads Leonard, trying to keep Jim's attention.
"They're going to kill us if we don't," says Jim brokenly.
Leonard takes a cautious step forward. "Nobody is going to kill us. I promise. We are safe here."
One of the security officers gets ideas of being some kind of hero and moves in to try and subdue Jim. Jim catches the movement out of the corner of his eye. "Stay back," he orders, taking another swing.
The security officer raises his hands as he jumps back but the other one raises his phaser. Leonard's quick to step in front, smacking the officer's arm down and away so the weapon is no longer pointed at Jim. "Keep your weapons down!" he snarls. He can't hide his wince as his side protests the quick movements.
Jim lowers the spanner slightly, concern carving its way across his face. "They've already hurt you," he says with dejected failure.
"No!" denies Leonard. He knows the treacherous winding road this is going to go down if he tells the truth and he can't let it get that bad. Jim's not with it enough to remind him that Leonard lost a fight with a wild animal a week ago. "I just pulled a muscle the other day. I'm fine. I promise."
Jim doesn't look overly convinced.
The guard looks towards Spock for how he should proceed. The phaser is still clutched tightly in his hand. "That's an order, Lieutenant!" adds Leonard, in a rare demonstration of rank.
"Doctor McCoy?" asks Spock. He needs to know if the doctor can handle this situation or he's going to have to step in and resolve it. The doctor may not like how the resolution is achieved but Spock has a whole crew to think about.
Jim follows the guard's gaze until his eyes land on Spock. "I knew it! I knew the Romulans were here," he declares.
Leonard wants to bang his head against the wall. Two steps forward and nineteen back.
"We have established I am not Romulan," supplies Spock. It is a subject he has had to remind Jim of more than once. It is curious as to why that fact seems to elude him.
It's like everyone is working against Leonard tonight. He just wants to face palm; if only Spock knew just how unhelpful that statement was right now.
Jim's too far gone, only seeing the enemy at every turn. Spock's pointed ears are like a red flag to a bull. He charges towards Spock, spanner raised high.
Leonard throws himself at Jim, tackling him at waist level and sending both of them into the wall. Jim's still struggling desperately in Leonard's arms to get at the Romulan threat.
"Let go of me, Bones." Why can't Leonard understand the danger they're in? Leonard knows what they did to the crew, how can he be protecting them?
"Enough Jim," soothes Leonard, holding on tighter and gritting through the pain in his side every time Jim elbows him to get free. He tries to wrestle the hypo with a sedative out of his pocket without releasing his hold on Jim.
"Why are you siding with them?" demands Jim. Leonard can just imagine the look of betrayal on his husband's face. Jim refocuses his attention on Spock. "What did you do to him? You brainwashed him!" he shouts, trying even harder to slip from Leonard's hold.
Spock can see the pained look on Leonard's face and takes a step forward. This has to end before the doctor undoes all the work the medical team did to put him back together. Before he can get close enough to try and nerve pinch Jim, Leonard hits Jim with the hypo. It takes effect almost immediately, Jim's efforts ceasing as they both slide to the floor in a heap. Leonard never lets go.
"All crewmen back to their quarters," orders Spock, the crowds dispersing quickly and quietly. "You as well," he adds when the security team hesitates to leave. He is more than capable of helping McCoy move Jim and judging by the protective look on the doctor, he is loath to accept much help.
"You are quite proficient with that hypo," commends Spock. He will have to remember the doctor can wield it with ninja like reflexes next time he is in sickbay.
"Lots of practice," says Leonard bitterly.
"Is this going to be a problem?" asks Spock, pointing to himself.
Leonard lets out a long sigh. How's he supposed to answer that? "Most of the time probably not." Leonard looks sad. "He just gets confused sometimes time. I'm usually more on top of it. At least long before he picks up something that can be used as a weapon." Because Jim can turn anything in his hands into a weapon; not that it gets to that point often. "I'll readjust his meds in the morning."
Spock holds onto Jim as Leonard gets to his feet. Between the two of them they carry Jim towards the McCoys' quarters. "We need to have a plan in place to implement should this happen again," states Spock.
Leonard can't argue that. If he slips up again and Jim has an episode that could put someone in danger, security should know how to handle it in a way that doesn't involve phasers. "This was my fault. If I hadn't taken those painkillers before bed, I would have woken up before he left our quarters," confesses Leonard with a bone weary tiredness. He needed the painkillers to stop his nightmares more than ease the pain because he just needs one good night sleep.
They make it back to Leonard's cabin and deposit Jim in bed. Spock waits in the living room while Leonard tucks him in.
"Are you injured?" quires Spock, noticing the slight hitch in the doctor's gait.
Leonard's hand rests over his side. "I'll be fine." He's still very tender, the new skin still bright pink over his injuries. He'll be a kaleidoscope of purples and blacks tomorrow- none of which Jim can see. So much for sharing breakfast in bed tomorrow morning. "I'll have those protocols drafted and submitted to you by tomorrow afternoon."
"Perhaps you would be willing to demonstrate some calming techniques to the senior staff after we discuss the new protocols?" asks Spock, trying to illicit a sense of comradely.
"Sure," says Leonard as he bids Spock good night.
Jim tosses another drink back, signalling the bartender for another despite her disapproving gaze. He's aiming to beat last night's record, to find that sweet spot where things no longer matter and the world just melts away. He likes it here. The bar isn't supper high class nor is it the usual dive he likes to haunt when he needs to let his fists work out his issues. It's average with a constantly changing clientele thanks to its proximity to a public transport station. Every hour brings in new faces and new opportunities.
Opportunities like the blond sitting next to him with the bright green eyes and a smile that sparkles brighter than the night sky. She hangs off of every cheesy pickup line he can lob at her, her hand constantly rubbing his arm. He doesn't even know her name, nor she his, but every line of her body is screaming sure thing if Jim's willing to put action to his flirtatious promises. It's been a long time since he had anonymous sex in a bathroom stall.
He aches for the anonymity, the simplicity of filling a basic need with someone who has no preconceived notation of who he should be or who he was. They'd both have their fun and then part ways never to meet again, no expectations or looks of disappointment in the day light. Love them and leave- it was his guiding principle until he met a disgruntled doctor who saw all of Jim's cracks and broken pieces and stuck around anyways. Except Jim can't get over these new jagged broken pieces, how can he ask Leonard to?
The bombshell sitting next to him starts to rub circles against his leg with her foot. She doesn't know what a train wreck she's dealing with and doesn't care because for in this moment they're prefect for each other. No expectations. No entanglements. No judgement. No demands.
Leonard wants things from Jim. He wants Jim to be happy. He wants to have this wonderful life with Jim. He wants good things for Jim. Jim isn't sure how to get any of those things and the pressure is killing him. The answer is sitting next to him.
Leonard won't tolerate cheating. Jim's infidelity would be a sharp enough sword to finally sever the ties that bind, to turn Leonard off so much, he finally tosses Jim away. It will be quick like ripping off a bandage instead of the long journey of letting the wound fester to the point of amputation. Jim knows it would crush Leonard, hollow him out and leave him broken. But Leonard would put those pieces back together and rebuild his life again, eventually. Wouldn't that be better than holding on to Leonard and watching him bleed out as he cuts himself on Jim's broken edges?
Or maybe Leonard never finds out about drunken and hasty bathroom sex and Jim gets a couple of carefree moments. If Jim finds release from his burdens maybe he can fake it for a few more months, even years perhaps? He and Leonard can go on pretending that they'll work out.
The blond leans in and Jim gets lost in the smell of her perfume and warmth of her soft skin. "There's a quiet corner in the back, if you care to join me," she purrs, her painted nails brushing down his arm as she gets up from her stool to sashay to the back of the bar.
Jim watches her go, longingly. It all sounds so simple when she says it. He turns back to the bar and slams back his next shot for some added courage. Despite what people think, Jim's always known he's rather weak. He grips the edge of the bar tightly, bracing himself to get off the stool and head to the back. Just as he starts to turn away from the counter to get off his chair the blond sits back down next to him.
"That was quick," starts Jim with a big goofy smile that vanishes as he realizes it's not the blond returning for Jim, rather Pike sitting next to him, glaring. Jim can't help but feel like he's been caught by the principal hustling fellow third graders out of their lunch credits through secret games of poker in the back of the art supply closet again.
"You're an idiot," states Pike.
Jim raises his glass. "That's the general consensus." God he doesn't need a lecture right now.
"Your husband know you're here and what you're doing?" demands Pike. He doesn't condone the behaviour in any circumstances but at least if Jim was stupid enough to not know better it might make things a little easier to swallow. Pike's never met someone so eager to piss their life away like this before. It doesn't help that he rather likes McCoy and thinks the doctor is probably one of the best things to happen to Jim.
Jim turns and looks serious. "Aren't you a little far from home?" They left San Francisco to get away from the people they know.
"Don't forget who's Vancouver apartment you're renting."
Jim rolls his eyes. "If I knew it came with a morals clause, we wouldn't have moved here." Jim screws face up in confusion. He can't figure out why everyone is so personally invested in his life. Don't they have their own problems to deal with? "Why do you even care?" he asks bitterly before hissing, "Uncle Chris."
Pike looks pensive for a few moments; like that particular wound is still raw and unclosed. "I thought you were too young to remember that." The irritation is gone from his voice, replaced with what almost sounds like remorse."
"Sam and I are pretty well versed in all mom's boyfriends." There was a revolving door of long lost friends and distant relatives that accompanied Winona when she returned home from space. They never visited again nor was there any mention of them after they disappeared from their lives. It became the game they played, pretending they believed their mother's cover stories for the men she brought around- most of whose name and faces have long since been forgotten.
Jim might have been very young but he remembers Pike. Pike was different from any of the other men Winona dated. He lasted the longest and actually put a genuine smile on Winona's face. He actually bothered to learn Jim and Sam's names and get them right. In fact, Pike was the one to teach Jim how to ride a bike. It was the first time Jim felt like they had a family.
Jim's long suspected Winona ended that relationship when it got too real; when the notion that they could be a happy family without George was painted on her children's faces. He always had a sense that Winona missed Chris and judging by the concealed heartbreak in Pike's eyes, he never got over losing her either. More importantly, Sam and Jim never got over losing the one guy besides their father that gave a damn about them.
Jim's starting to think he's more like his mother than he realized.
"I was your father's friend long before anything happened with your mother," corrects Pike. He's always had a vested interest in the Kirk kids that stems far beyond his surprising feelings for their mother. Regardless of his relationship with Winona, he can't sit idly by and watch George's children self destruct in his face.
"Bet dad would be really glad to know that," says Jim. Pike just stepped in and shot down his sure thing, bringing morality and judgement with him. Jim's in the mood to throw a few knives of his own.
"I loved your mother when we were together. I still love her even now. But your mom needed something I couldn't give her. And trying to pretend was just going to create a lot of collateral damage." Pike was willing to pretend, to pretend that when Winona looked at him she wasn't wishing he was George. But he wasn't willing to put two young boys through that.
"Yeah, well maybe that's what's happening here."
Pike looks a little sad. "McCoy doesn't want anything you can't give him."
Jim snorts. "I beg to differ."
"You just have to want to give it to him," says Pike. McCoy's sun rises and sets with Jim. All Jim has to do is not give up.
Jim watched his mother chase away anyone whoever mattered because her grief controlled her life. She had everything to live for but chose not to because she couldn't see past the hole George left in her. His mother was the walking dead. So is Jim and Leonard's just dumb enough to stay and let Jim eat him alive. "He'd be better off moving on to someone who's alive."
"I don't believe that and I don't think you do either. I know McCoy would disagree."
Jim wants to be good for Leonard, be everything he needs or could ever want. That's not how this fairy tale ends. This isn't one of the stories where they live happily ever after, it's one of the ones where the wolf eats the hero. And Jim... he's burdened with the intellect to know that. He wishes every day that Nero destroyed that part of his brain, that he could just be dumb enough to be happy and selfish enough to hold onto the one good thing in his life. "Leonard doesn't always know what's good for him. Trust me on that." Leonard's been sticking his neck out for Jim almost from the minute they met.
"I'm heading out again." Pike has a bad feeling, like he's leaving a teenager home alone with a copy of the liquor cabinet key and an unlimited credit account. He's long since learned he can't control the actions of others, even the self-destructive ones, but he doesn't want the story to conclude without him. Not if he can help write it in a different direction.
Jim raises his glass. "Duty calls." It's like salt in the wound; everyone carrying on with their lives unencumbered by what Nero did. Jim's frozen in time and the rest of the universe is moving on without him.
"Try not to do anything stupid until I get back," cautions Pike, looking pointedly at the girl Jim was flirting with.
Jim glances back at her too. She offers a little wave and coy smile, beckoning Jim to give into carnal temptation. He downs his drink. "No promises."
Pike stands up and straightens his uniform jacket. He looks at the bar tender, making a cut him off gesture. "He needs a ride home," he says, leaving without another word.
It only takes a couple of days for Leonard to get back on his feet. It's nice to have a week of half days and a husband to pamper him before he gets back to normal. Leonard would love to milk it for an extra day or two before finally getting back into the regular rhythm of things. Jim gets into a regular rhythm too.
"What's all this?" asks Leonard sitting down at a perfectly prepared dinner table after his first full day back to work.
"I cooked," says Jim with flourish. He's kind of proud of himself- nothing ended up on fire.
"I see that." Leonard looks hesitantly at the table. Bless Jim, but the kid and the kitchen are natural enemies. If it wasn't for the invention of the replicator, Jim would have starved to death a long time ago. The whole place smells heavenly so Jim made it from scratch. They're on the edge of Federation space so it's not like Jim ordered in. This not only looks edible, it looks delicious.
Jim watches intently as Leonard goes to take his first bite of cashew chicken.
"It's not poisoned, is it?" asks Leonard, feeling slight self-conscious of Jim's unrelenting gaze.
Jim snorts. "If I was going to kill you, I wouldn't poison your dinner," he says, affronted. "I'd use that powder from Telexia Prime. The one that's absorbed through the skin and causes total paralysis of the lungs and diaphragm."
"I remember," says Leonard leery. Trust the only time Jim would listen to Leonard talk about an article in the latest science journal, it's about an untraceable killing powder. "You thinkin' 'bout offing me?"
Jim shakes his head. "If I was though, I'd mix it into a cream. Ply you up with a bottle of bourbon and a nice massage. You'd go out in your sleep sometime in the middle of the night," says Jim with a shrug.
"Good thing you haven't thought about it," grumbles Leonard before finally taking a bit. His face goes from tightly controlled terror to slightly orgasmic. The food is amazing.
"I know, right?" cheers Jim, loading up his plate. He even managed to impress himself. It's only his second cooking lesson with Sulu but so far it's clearly a success. Assuming Leonard comes up for air.
They do the lessons in Sulu's quarters on the sly. It's nothing fancy or extravagant but it's food made with love and Jim plans on winning Leonard over every Saturday night. It's a nice touch of home he knows Leonard misses.
The McCoy's were traditionalists that had big home cooked family dinners all the time. As a result, Leonard can work magic in the kitchen. Jim grew up being able to perform miracles with a replicator. While the food is pretty much the same on a molecular level, you still can't replicate the taste of homemade. Now with Sulu's help, Jim doesn't have to try. Their lives have become almost domestic.
Scotty and Leonard have the same rotation schedule so when Leonard is on Beta shift so is Scotty. Jim would rather bash his head in than hang around sickbay if he doesn't have to so instead he's taken to wandering down to engineering to pass the time.
Beta shift is usually pretty slow so Scotty has the time to listen to Jim's ideas and theories and pitch some of his own. The perfect storm is when Chekov pulls an engineering shift during those weeks and the three of them can draft plans and reports to implement and test some of their ideas.
"If you increase the energy input here the engine output could increase by fifteen percent," says Jim, pointing to the schematic laid out over the control panel. He has a lot of time on his hands to think about these things since he technically doesn't have a job. And now he has someone who's willing to entertain his ideas and build upon them.
"Mmmm, aye, that could work," agrees Chekov, doing the calculations in his head. He passes a scanner down to Scotty.
"The relays would never handle it. She'd over heat and fry the controls," protests Scotty as he performs the scheduled maintenance on the coolant control system. Someone has to get some real work done today.
"Unless," prompts Jim with uncontained enthusiasm, prompting Chekov down the same train of thought.
"We build two additional relays systems in each nacelle," proposes Chekov. He's already working out the logistics in his head.
"We cannae just build two engine relays out in the middle of space!" sputters Scotty, crawling out of the maintenance shaft with lightening speed. He won't let anyone mangle his ship by trying to do something inconceivable.
"Scotty," presses Jim. It's a good idea and while Scotty is right, it would never be attempted under normal circumstances, it's not like the Enterprise is burdened with ordinary people.
Scotty stands steadfast in his assessment. He crosses his arms. "No! It cannae be done." No matter how promising the idea, it's not something that can be done by waving a magic wand.
"If anyone can do it, it's you," continues Jim, buttering the engineer up. They'll never come up with a workable proposal and plan if Scotty won't get on board. He and Chekov stand there looking like they're begging to keep a stray.
"Oh alright," snaps Scotty, taking a serious look at the blue prints Chekov is drafting. So much for getting the control panel sorted today.
Engineering's become even more productive and innovative in the last few months than it has on any other voyage.
They host chess night with Spock three nights a week. Leonard's not really one for the game. Jim suspects Leonard's better at it then he lets on, but he enjoys watching Leonard play dumb when Jim cajoles him into a game. More often than not, Leonard goes to a book club with Uhura during chess night or out drinking with Scotty. It leaves Jim and Spock alone but being in his own quarters lessens some of the unease about hosting a set of pointed ears.
"You and Spock playing again tonight?" asks Leonard as he emerges from the bedroom.
"It's Sunday night," Jim replies as he places the chess pieces in their designated starting points. "Book club or wine club," jokes Jim.
Leonard screws up his face. He and Scotty don't drink wine. "Book club," he says hefting his PADD with the latest required reading. "Who would drink wine just because?" asks Leonard with a shudder. Wine has a few limited places, mostly food adjacent.
"Savages," says Jim, absently. He's never been a connoisseur of alcohol; he consumed it for its function not its taste. He never discriminated based on type and made most selections based on availability only. Leonard on the other hand has a long and dedicated appreciation for particular spirits. Not to mention a bit of snobbery toward drinks that aren't his preference. Wine anywhere but with dinner would be one of those faux pas.
"I might be late tonight," says Leonard, placing a kiss on the top of Jim's head as he walks past the couch.
"I'll make sure the Vulcan doesn't get out of hand," promises Jim.
"Why do I feel like it's not Spock, I have to worry about?"
Jim doesn't answers, just shoots Leonard a large evil grin as the doctor heads out the door.
Thank god it's not Chekov with the challenging chess game. Leonard's not sure he'd have the patients to pick the kid up off the ground after a night under Jim's influence and the ship certainly isn't ready for a full blown Kirk escapade.
"I know it's none of my business," Jim starts after he and Spock have been playing for an hour, "what happened between you and Uhura."
"You are correct. It is not," replies Spock wanting no part in the discussion. He moves his queen to the second tire. His private life is not for discussion.
Jim tilts his head to the side, moving his knight back down to the first tire after a few moments of deliberation. "But," continues Jim undeterred by the Vulcan's steely gaze, "I see the way she looks when she talks about you. Whatever was so important... believe me, it's not. You belong together."
"My feelings for Nyota have never been in question," insists Spock, moving his rook. Love was never their problem.
Jim's quick to take it with his bishop. "Yet you're not together," he points out.
"I have an obligation," says Spock, equally as quick to remove Jim's bishop off the board with his queen. "Vulcan's numbers were decimated during the attack of which you should be aware."
"Oh, I am aware. Believe me." They had a front row seat for the planet's destruction on board the Narada.
Different circumstances would have yielded different results. This is not the future Spock would have picked for himself before Nero but it is the one he is obligated to now. "Then you should understand my duty to my people."
Jim rubs his forehead. "Please tell me you don't approach sex as a mathematical problem."
"That subject is not open for discussion," says Spock sternly.
"Alright. Duty be damned. You love her and that's as equally as important if not more so to you than the logical practice of perpetuating the species."
"It is not," denies Spock moving his king out of the way of Jim's potential next move.
"It must be," assures Jim, "otherwise you wouldn't have let me win just now." Jim slides his queen into position. "Checkmate."
Spock stares at the board in disbelief. Jim's managed to beat him before. Jim rarely subscribes to practical and logical strategies opting for random chaos that Spock cannot always out manoeuvre but this was a very clear and obvious trap he walked into.
"Think about it," says Jim as he gets up to fix himself a snack.
Spock sits and stares at the board trying to piece together exactly where his game went to hell.
"Don't be mad," says Jim, lying in bed next to Leonard. "But I kind of did something."
Leonard lets out a long tired sigh. He's too tired to hide a body tonight or fall on bended knee before the captain to beg for forgiveness for something. Really, if Jim's going to spring shit on him, he could have the decency to do it before Leonard's all loose, pliable and content from the mind blowing sex.
"Is it going to get us kicked off the ship?" asks Leonard, sleepily.
"We're going to get off voluntarily."
Okay, Leonard's awake now. Jim's prone to the seven year itch at a much more accelerated rate than most people but what they have right now is good and it's only been four months. He stares wide eyed at the ceiling. "Why would we do that?" He can feel Jim fidgeting next to him. The silence is starting to become irritating and worrisome. "Spill."
"I was talking with Chekov. We're going to be staying around Myatol for another couple of weeks to work on trade negotiations and give the crew some shore leave time."
"Um-hum." Leonard does attend all the senior staff meetings. He knows exactly what the ship's doing and why they're here. What he doesn't know is why Jim cares or what it has to do with Jim. First contact isn't exactly in his purview anymore.
"So then I was talking with Uhura who helped me run it by the captain."
Oh god. There's far too many people involved in whatever this is for it to not cause Leonard a small coronary. The last time Jim did 'something' that he ran by someone else, Leonard had eight baby goats running around the house that needed to be bottle fed after Jim helped birth them in their bed. They were cute but Leonard has better uses for their bed than a nursery.
"Do I need to start lookin' for a new job?"
"No. But you do need to find someone to cover your shifts for a few days," says Jim with a smile.
"I'm slightly afraid."
"That's the spirit, Bones." Jim props himself up on his elbow. He runs his hand down Leonard's chest, tapping each time he reveals part of his plan. "I secured for us, three nights shore leave on the planet. I booked us a nice cozy looking yurt, which we are totally going to christen for all mankind. And I got us a reservation at what's supposed to be their version of a five star restaurant. It'll be a romantic weekend of good food and very little clothing," promises Jim, practically salivating at the idea.
Color Leonard impressed. Wait... ran it past the captain? "Tell me you didn't sell Spock on the idea with the promise of no clothing?" He'll never be able to look that green hobgoblin in the eye again.
Jim just laughs. "You're virtue is safe with me."
"My virtue has never been safe with you," growls Leonard as he throws the sheets to the side and rolls on top of Jim.