Series: Moments in Time
Characters: Kirk, Spock, McCoy, of a sort; Sulu, Chekov
Rating: K
Warnings/Spoilers: The Tholian Web
Summary: The Enterprise Triumvirate don't fight very often, but when they do? As the alpha shift bridge crew would tell you, just duck and run for cover until it's over.
A/N: This episode. Geez. So much has already been written about it, but it's such a crucial one I think to these three's relationships and very little was done to address that. To break from the angst of the episode and previous oneshots, a slightly tongue-in-cheek way of doing that here.

As a general rule, the commanding officers – indeed the majority of the crew – of the U.S.S. Enterprise got along famously. It was one reason why Lieutenant Sulu enjoyed working on the Bridge much more than in the Botany labs; while he'd liked Sciences well enough, the petty ongoing feud between Geology and Xenosociology had grated on his nerves immensely, before Captain Kirk had noticed his interest in both piloting and possibly future command, and had requested his transfer up to alpha shift Bridge duty.

Over the last couple years of their five-year-mission, he'd seen their command chain in pretty much every state of mind, but the times when they were not working like a well-oiled machine were very few and far between indeed, and half the time those instances were basically pretense for the sake of a mission.

But the other half of those few times? Ho boy. Nobody wanted to be on alpha shift when the captain and Mr. Spock were fighting, and as for throwing McCoy in the mix? You were safer in the middle of a Klingon wedding brawl.

What was so scary about it, was that usually there was barely even a word spoken – just that the vibes of anger radiating off the command chair could make your skin crawl, you would think the instruments of the Science and Library station would be frozen over from the metaphorical ice spreading from that direction, and you could pretty much feel the silently murderous fury creeping through the vents from Sickbay.

The Bridge was a dangerous place to be, under those circumstances.

At least in Geology they only argued about stupid rocks.

He evidently wasn't the only one who had been on the unfortunate receiving end of one or the other's attention this morning, because it was with hilarious alacrity that Chekov accepted his invitation to lunch an hour earlier than his usual, skittering nervously into the turbolift behind him as if afraid the captain would revoke his eating permission.

No need to worry; Kirk was way too busy trying to kill the Commander with his mind behind the back of Sulu's replacement pilot.

"Chyort, I thought that shift would never end," his young friend breathed, slumping against the wall of the lift as it descended toward Officers' Mess.

"Yeah, I have no idea what's going on this time," he agreed, because usually after such a harrowing mission like this last one with the Tholians, those three were tighter than a magnetic seal.

"Almost dying can do funny things to a man."

"That's like a regular occurrence on this ship, Pavel. Also, you were literally going nuts during this mission, and you're acting perfectly normal now."

"Da, that is true." They reached the meal selectors in record time, since it was a bit early for officers' luncheon and the Mess was nearly deserted, and within a few minutes had settled at a table along one wall.

Sulu was halfway through his sandwich when the doors opened again.

Chekov started, soup slopping over the side of his spoon, at his quiet exclamation of dismay. "What?"

"Speak of the devils," he muttered. "Why the heck are they eating lunch together?"

Chekov half-turned in his chair, and then whirled back around, eyes wide. "You do not suppose they will try to sit with us?"

A crash of silverware as a tray was thrown onto a table in the corner.

"Somehow, I doubt it," Sulu said dryly.

"Should we leave?"

Sulu scowled. No way was he being chased out of Officers' Mess just because he was afraid of becoming collateral damage. "No. Besides, how bad can it get, in a public area?"

-0-

Pretty bad, apparently.

Chekov winced as already raised voices got even louder. "I feel like we should not be listening," he said nervously, giving his soup a fidgety stir.

"I feel like the Captain shouldn't be accusing the two of them of lying, so loudly that they can hear him on Deck Twenty," Sulu muttered, ferociously attacking his carrot sticks to drown out McCoy's equally angry response.

"Wait, did the Keptin just say something about watching them on security tape? Is that not a little creepy?"

"The tape was footage of his cabin – I think it's more creepy that they were hanging out in there while he was supposedly dead," Sulu observed candidly.

Chekov shook his head, hair flying vigorously with the motion. "I am sure there was a good reason."

"If there was, why did they lie about it? Because apparently they did – and Vulcans don't lie. Supposedly." Sulu crunched a carrot thoughtfully.

"That is, how you say it, a load of bull. Meester Spock is quite talented at omission; have you not read official reports?"

They both snorted, stifling laughter. "I'm expecting food to start flying any second now," Sulu observed, as McCoy's fork ended up pointing two inches from the captain's nose, the other arm gesticulating wildly. Spock calmly avoided the flailing hand and scooted six inches down the table's long bench.

Without pausing, the hand reached out and unceremoniously yanked him back.

Chekov choked on his lemonade.

"I am, frankly, surprised that the doctor didn't get nerve pinched at some point while the captain was trapped in interphase. You didn't see anything happen in Sickbay that'd be worth some blackmail points, did you?"

"Nyet, I remember very little. But the nurses say the doctor was too busy trying to find the antidote, he did not eat or stop for a break at all other than to attend the memorial service."

"Boy, you should have heard them on the Bridge, though. Talk about fur flying."

"That is to be expected, Hikaru. People say terrible things when they are grieving."

Sulu blinked, temporarily blindsided by the earnest expression. Way to be a wet blanket, Chekov. Humor was basically the only weapon he had left against surviving another half alpha shift today. "Well…yeah, I guess they do. D'you suppose they realize that, though?" he pointed his carrot stick at the group.

Angry hands slammed down on the distant table, and they both winced as their CMO stood, red-faced, and leaned over the uneaten lunch trays. "No, you know what, Captain? If you're that angry about it, maybe you should have been here, not made us all watch you die and be able to do nothing about it!"

Every occupant of the room cringed, including the two eavesdroppers, as the physician then stormed out of the room, no doubt wishing the doors would slam behind him instead of simply sliding shut.

"Maybe we should go," Chekov whispered in the uncomfortable quiet that followed.

"Your censure of the Doctor was uncalled-for, Captain," Spock's annoyed voice, loud enough to be heard for the first time with half the volume of the room now gone, rolled deep in the silence.

Kirk's indignant spluttering was clear, despite his back being to the two of them. "Mr. Spock, I watched the footage, of the Bridge and of my quarters – what he said to you was inexcusable and I will not have you hiding that kind of treatment from me aboard this ship, not from him or from anyone else!"

"Captain." Sulu blinked; there was actual, audible anger in Spock's voice now, though his facial expressions hadn't changed. "Doctor McCoy has already placed himself on report, for behavior unbefitting an officer and personal insubordination. Your additional censure was unnecessary, and, sir, frankly was inappropriate, considering that I have already dealt with the matter."

Chekov's eyes widened; neither of them had ever heard Spock sass the captain like that, or defend McCoy that vehemently (vehemently for a Vulcan, at least).

"…He placed himself on report? Spock, I didn't know – I did read the reports for the mission when I got back, and I didn't see that one."

"That is because I…diverted it, sir."

"From me?"

"And from Starfleet Command. I saw no reason for it to go into the doctor's permanent record."

Silverware clanked as Kirk put down the instruments and began massaging his temples. "Anything else you conveniently didn't tell me about this mission?"

"Negative, sir."

"You'll pardon me if I find it hard to believe you right now, Commander."

"Understandable, sir."

"If you sir me one more time today, Spock, I swear I will assign you delta shift duty in the recycling labs for a week."

"If that is your wish, Captain."

"Spock!"

"Yes, Captain."

Kirk sighed, rubbed his eyes wearily. "I'm sorry."

"You acted partially out of ignorance, si-Captain. And the doctor is the one who has been wronged, not I."

"Somehow I think by now we're all a package deal, Commander. So you'll just have to accept my apologies as well."

Spock inclined his head. "Then apology accepted, sir."

"Delta shift, Spock."

"Apology accepted, Jim."

"I'm going to go find McCoy and try to dig my way out of this hole I've dug; you want to come, or do you want to head back to the Bridge?"

"I shall accompany you, if you have no objections. I believe the crew could, as the humans put it, use the break from us?"

Kirk snorted with laughter and stood, picking up his tray. "Someday soon you're going to have to let me out of your sight, you know."

Spock pointedly ignored him, striding past the grinning human toward the recycling chutes.

"That explains much," Chekov observed, as the captain shook his head fondly and followed.

"Like why he's had a ticked-off Vulcan shadow all week?"

"Da. Do you suppose…"

"I think that depends on how well McCoy can hold a grudge."

Chekov's nose wrinkled. "That is not an encouraging prospect."

"He might surprise you, Pavel." Sulu picked up his tray with a smile. "I'd better head back to the Bridge; something tells me it'll be a while before they get back and no way am I leaving DeSalle with Kirk's chair while we're navigating an asteroid belt."

It was testament to the week's craziness, that it was two hours later before the captain remembered to comm the Bridge and make sure someone was actually minding the store; but it was worth it to have the balance of power reset aboard ship by the next day. Sulu had heard Scotty say once, under the influence of quite a bit of imported whisky, that those three were the Silver Lady's heart, mind, and soul – and it really wasn't a bad comparison; he wasn't sure two could actually survive long without the other, or that the ship herself would last long missing one of its crucial parts.

Hopefully, they'd never have to test that hypothesis.