It's a beautiful Sunday and I've spent it watching Star Trek clips of Bones and Spock. Good way to spend a day? Yeah, I think so.
Disclaimer: I do own the planet Tu'van. I have real estate stakes in different galaxies.
Shore leave comes too slowly for everyone's liking, but eventually the day dawns when they can actually glimpse the dock and see tiny Tu'vanians waving them in. Kirk is in exuberant spirits as always, almost bouncing on his heels like an excited kid. "Attention to all stations," he announces, not even trying to keep the glee from his voice: "I am pleased to announce that we have safely arrived on Tu'van. Shore leave begins now. Please be aware that at oh eight hundred hours in two days we will depart, with or without you. Should we need to contact you, it will be via your communicators, so keep them on you at all times." He glances over at Bones. "That it?"
"I think so," Bones responds. "Captain," he adds hastily when Spock raises an eyebrow at him.
"Alright, that's it! Have fun, kids!" Jim disconnects from the system and reclines in his chair. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he drawls at the pair in front of him. "Shore leave. We've been dreaming about this day for weeks. Let's go!"
"I'm begging you to not get yourself killed," Bones says in a resigned tone – he's already come to terms with the knowledge that Kirk never listens to him. Still, he plows on. "I don't want to know what you and Sulu are going to do, and I don't think I want to know, either. Just – don't come back with any broken bones, bullet wounds, or concussions. So help me if you die, I'm going to bring you back to life just to kill you."
"Is that concern I hear, Bonesy?"
"Yeah, but not for you – for Spock. I just taught him how to bandage a wound properly, I don't need you testing him."
"I have full confidence in my abilities as a medical officer, Doctor," Spock says smoothly. "You ought to as well. Though, Captain, I would appreciate it if you did not test either myself or the doctor."
"Oh, relax, you two worrywarts," Kirk says impatiently. "Sulu and I will be fine." He grins brightly, and Bones fights down the urge to remind him of the time they came back with broken ankles, concussions, snapped wrists, and at one point, Andorian shingles. God, he had hated that last one the most.
"Very well, Captain." Spock inclines his head. "We will see you in forty eight hours."
"Be careful, Jim," Bones warns one last time, feeling something like anxiety stir in his stomach. This time, however, he manages to banish it using the techniques Spock had taught him a week ago. It doesn't altogether work – he still has an irrational urge to grab Jim and demand that he have a camera on him at all times – but he manages to keep it to a minimum.
"You too, Bonesy. That goes for you as well, Spock."
"I am always careful, Captain."
"Yeah, but- Ah, forget it. Why am I still talking to you?" Kirk bounds out the door, an irrepressible ball of energy. Bones rolls his eyes as he hears the distant echo of Kirk's whooping float through the doors.
"He's a child," he comments to Spock.
"I do not believe that Jim is a child by your human standards," Spock counters. "That standard falls more to humans like Mr. Chekov, does it not?"
Bones just doesn't even comment on Spock's rebuttal. He's learning to let it go. "Where is Chekov, anyway? Jim said something about the kid not leaving his room."
Right at that moment, the doors slide open and Chekov walks in, nose buried in a sheet of notes. Spock clears his throat – a little too noisily, Bones thinks grumpily – and Chekov's head snaps up, clearly startled to see the two men still standing on the bridge. "Mr. Spock. Doctor McCoy. What are you still doing here?"
"You know, kid, sometimes I wonder the same thing," Bones says dryly. "But we could ask you the same question."
"Indeed, Mr. Chekov. One would think that you would be using this free time to relax." Spock folds his hands behind his back before remembering Bones' lectures about not standing quite so rigidly.
"Ahh," Chekov hedges, "I am not one for relaxing, I am afraid." He waves his notes around. "I will be on the ship attempting to solve your current predicament. The physics of it is -"
"Chekov, you can't stay on this ship all day," Bones interrupts. "You'll go mad."
"I do not think it is possible for one to lose mental capabilities simply by staying on the ship, Doctor," Spock begins.
"Am I the doctor or are you?" Bones cuts him off. "Look, Chekov. Come out with us. We're stuck with one another for the next few days – weeks – months-" He chokes before he says years. "So we're going out for a few drinks. Observe the native culture or something. Come with us, and then you can get back to your numbers later."
Chekov hesitates, still clutching his notes. Sensing that he might need a little more persuasion, Spock picks up on Bones' argument. "The doctor is correct in his analysis, Mr. Chekov. Human studies have shown that without proper rest, human attention spans greatly decrease, thus causing the decline of productivity."
"I hate it when you agree with me," Bones mutters under his breath. Spock gives him a look out of the corner of his eye.
There is a pause before Chekov sighs. "I guess you're right, Mr. Spock, Doctor McCoy."
"Great," Bones says with much more optimism than he feels. "Meet you outside in ten minutes. Last one there buys the drinks."
"That does not seem like a fair method of determining payment," Spock objects. "Mr. Chekov was known to be the youngest cadet to win the marathon in Starfleet."
"Then you just gotta be fast, then Spock." Bones grins. "See you in ten minutes!"
He ends up last because someone overrides his keypad code and jams it, forcing him to wait an extra five minutes before he can leave his room. When he gets outside, fuming inwardly, Spock looks too innocent while Chekov wears a tired smile. "Fine," Bones growls. "I'll buy the drinks. But tomorrow, we're going to learn how to amputate a leg, Spock, and you'd better pray that I don't amputate you."
Why, Spock, was that a human prank you just pulled?
Much love,
ohlookrandom