"Are you out of your God damn mind?" McCoy hissed in return to Jim's suggestion of breaking into the Bridge. It felt comfortable to be glaring at the young man.
"You need a trigger to remember. If you follow your urges," Jim swallowed thickly, "and take them into account, then the Bridge is the perfect place to start!"
The hand on McCoy's shoulder disappeared but the warmth remained, pulling him in Jim's direction. He followed Jim as he got up and stood close to the man, their chests almost touching with each breath.
"Kid, you certainly had your fill with alcohol tonight. Bridge isn't the kitchen, you can't just waltz in and demand a tour and you are thinking about breaking in? There is bound to be people around. No one is going to let you get away with it!"
"There better be people or we'll all be in trouble," Jim replied without flinching at their closeness. "Come on, it'll be fun!"
Without waiting for a reply, Jim took off towards the door, leaving a gobsmacked McCoy behind. This was insane, McCoy thought but his legs moved on their own accord once again. There were questions as to why he followed this clearly insane person around, but in his guts, McCoy felt it be the right thing to do. So he went after Jim and caught up with him at the base of the staircase. A radiant smile greeted him and in a millisecond they were off once again. This time together.
Their first destination, much to McCoy's surprise was the crew quarters on the lower deck. Under two minutes, Jim had figured out the schematics of the ships and lead him to one of the empty cabins on the lower deck. He left McCoy there, who was practically about to have a heart failure. Once Jim returned McCoy didn't hesitate the smack his head for leaving him alone but seeing as Jim carried two white sailor uniforms with him, McCoy couldn't be too angry for the moment. He reluctantly followed Jim's lead again and changed into his rather well fitting outfit.
"I must say, McCoy I like your vest and all the Victorian attire but man, the uniform is definitely something else on you" McCoy tried not to blush like a damned teenager and decided to walk past Jim, in hopes to hide away the redness of his face. Jim, the observant asshole that he is opted to giggle at the sight instead of acting like a mature adult McCoy mistakenly thought he was.
"This way," Jim instructed once he quieted down, "Now, walk like you mean it; You have been walking down these halls all your life. Stick close to the shadows. If they don't realise something strange with someone in uniform, then they won't pay attention to you."
"This is not right. We'll get into a hell of a lot of trouble for this. We'll be booted off the ship, damn it! Why am I even following you?"
"Because you are just as curious about the result!"
But, wasn't that the truth, McCoy thought to himself. By some sheer luck, the crewmen they encountered was limited to two people and as Jim had predicted, they ignored them other than to give solutes. By the time they reached the Bridge's half open door on the upper deck, McCoy's heart was on the verge of jumping out of his chest.
"Relax," started Jim, very unhelpfully "We'll peak inside quickly and then leave!"
"Fine, damn it! We are here anyway. Lead the way!"
Upon the final steps, with a small push of his fingertips, the heavy looking door opened further to reveal an understaffed bridge, complete with its three-way windows overlooking the sea, the basic engine control gauges and a crew of three. "Where is the steering wheel?" McCoy whispered and Jim turned to him with a face that said, do you really have no idea how this works?
"In the wheelhouse, obviously," he mumbled back.
Keeping to the darker side of the door and poking his head from above Jim's back, McCoy observed the crew with a new found resolve to remember something, anything. There was an odd combination of crew members all clad in white; A young black woman who stood stiff like the world did her wrong and she vowed to take revenge on her; An Asian man who hid his face behind the white cap and watched the gauges like his life dependent on it; And finally, an extremely young man who was the only one currently talking like he swallowed up a steam engine with an accent that McCoy didn't understand. He spent a solid two minutes wondering why the ship's helm consisted of a random selection of people he was not expecting to see and then it was everything that was supposed to be. Seeing it was like waking up in a dream while he still being asleep and finding out that there was a better life somewhere else that was out of your reach, somewhere you were no longer allowed to yet. He shivered and felt Jim's eyes on him.
McCoy felt a hand creeping up on his chest until it found purchase between his neck and shoulder. The simple touch was almost as if an anchor was cast into the sea of his soul and grounded the ship that was his body. He felt no tremors, heard no sounds of the waves crashing against the ship and he saw not the dimly lit, green coloured room but a larger, more sophisticated bridge with blinding lights. For a comforting second, McCoy was at home and no matter the truth of that moment, he recognised the feeling of belonging couldn't be faked nor forgotten.
"Are you with us?" he heard Jim whisper and close the door a little, obscuring his vision of the room. McCoy remained in his self-made mirage.
The crewmen didn't appear to notice them and as he was about to declare this an overly dangerous waste of time, Jim decided to step forward into the cabin. His movement awakened him from a daze and he reached out to grab an hold of Jim's arm. He hadn't even realised that he had shrieked until every person in the room was looking right at him.
"You know, it goes against the whole idea of sneaking around when you scream," Jim said sweetly but his eyes were speaking of the horrors he momentarily wished to impact upon McCoy. McCoy simply glared in return.
"I know, I know," Jim started to talk but not at McCoy, "I am not supposed to be here!" He lifted his arms in surrender and opened his mouth to explain but the black lady beat him to him. She glared at Jim with such ferocity that it made McCoy proud and she walked right up and into Jim's personal space like she meant business.
"Your shift does not start until next afternoon, Captain." Her accusatory voice was not what surprised McCoy, "You have to follow the procedure if you wish to complete this ordeal with success, sir."
"Wait, what?" McCoy stuttered causing the young lady to direct her glare at him. It should have at least slowed him down but that day wasn't one of his preserve your life days. "You were being serious! You really are a captain? And the captain of this ship, on top of that? What about that other man in the blue outfit, shaking everyone's hands?"
"He is one of our janitors, Mr Jenkins. He came with the ship when we took over after the last crew and he likes to play pretend every now and then, so we let him."
"Unbelievable. And, you are the real deal?"
"It is hard to believe, isn't it?" the lady agreed, much to Jim's dismay "He even has the gall to drag around civilians in unauthorised sections, without permission."
"And, makes up stories about flying ships and being in lecture rooms, too" McCoy added.
"I didn't!" Jim countered with an innocent face that wasn't fooling anyone, "I really attended your lecture, doctor. It's your own fault not to have realised man with such a handsome face was involved with your class."
"Perhaps your face is more ordinary than you think it is, and that's why I didn't notice you!" The poorly attempted comeback made the woman smile behind her hand as her captain scowled at McCoy.
"You take that back!" As McCoy shook his head as a no, Jim returned back to his officers "You should resume your duties, Lieutenant" he ordered childishly. He heard muzzled giggles from behind her.
"As you wish, Captain," she smiled professionally, McCoy was very impressed with her "I am Nyota Uhura, doctor and these are helmsman Sulu and Chekov. If the Captain has brought you up here then it must be with good reason. Welcome aboard."
McCoy nodded at all three crewmen and cleared his throat "Call me Leonard, darlin'. Leonard McCoy. Appointed ship physician of another ship, I think."
"Hey! Did you just recall your first name?" Jim exclaimed from beside him and relief washed over him as he realised that yes, he indeed had and he was fairly certain the name really belonged to him.
"You think, doctor?" echoed the Russian boy, Chekov, as he fidgeted on his spot.
"Yes, Dr McCoy had an accident which left his memories in shambles" Jim jumped in to explain his situation while McCoy, no Leonard, sent a glare his way, "So, I thought it would help him recover them if he was in familiar places in the ship."
"We are sorry to hear that, doctor," Sulu chipped in and they all appeared genuinely distraught by McCoy's condition. Not knowing how to accept everyone's sympathies, he nodded his thanks again.
"So," he started to fill in the awkward silence "Jim if you are the Captain of this ship, why the hell did we bother with sneaking around?"
"I like to keep my crew on their toes. You all failed, by the way, to notice us. Until Leonard let out that ungodly shriek. Minus points to you all. Good night!"
As Jim stormed out of the bridge, McCoy slowly smiled at the crew. Their amused faces was a sign which convinced him that this was a usual display of drama around the ship. He followed the captain out after bidding his own good nights. Unfortunately, by the time he made it to the end of the corridor, Jim was nowhere to be found.