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My head spun as I began to regain consciousness. I was still on the bridge, Jim sitting above me, gripping my arm too tightly. "Ge' off," I mumbled, shaking my numb limb with very little coordination. "Y're cutting off my circulation." The result was that my hand connected with my captain's unsuspecting face.
I opened my eyes warily to see Jim looking at me as if I'd slapped him. Oh wait… "Sorry, Jim. Didn't mean to hit you." He exchanged an amused look with his first officer.
Chekov and Sulu exchanged their own knowing glances though I wasn't particularly sure what it was that they actually knew. It wasn't like I was prone to these incidents.
Wait a damn minute. Since when did Spock give 'amused looks?' And since when were he and Jim so damn amicable towards each other. Last thing I remember Spock was strangling the hell outta… no wait. Last thing I remember was Jim looking all hot and bothered by… I heard a small groan of disgust escape my lips and felt nausea flood my stomach. The gesture hadn't left much room for interpretation.
There was something wrong with this. Barely a month had passed since Spock had lost it on the bridge. When someone tries to murder me I generally hold a grudge.
Besides, it was Spock. Spock was… Spock. He was an annoying, emotionless… Spock. Not exactly the lovable type. Maybe the captain was sick. Any one of the planets we had visited held mysteries. Just being in orbit around them could have had dangerous side effects that my initial scans hadn't picked up on.
Having recovered from my fall, I felt the need to set things straight. "Jim, Captain, get your ass down to sickbay so I can examine you." The bridge crew sent each other worried glances. I realized that, given their lack of knowledge as to why I had passed out, it must look a bit unusual for me to be ordering the seemingly healthy captain to sickbay. Scotty, with that ever apprehensive squint in his eyes, seemed ready to call for help at a moment's notice. "Well? Didn't you hear me?" I barked at Jim who was still hovering in front of me as if I was the one needing help.
"Doctor, I suggest you have someone accompany you to the medical bay so you may ascertain the cause for your syncoptic episode without subjecting yourself to the risk of further injury." The half Vulcan watched me as stoically as ever, hands characteristically clasped behind his back, perfect posture, dark eyes blank and mouth firmly set so he was neither frowning nor smiling; yet I could have sworn there was something mocking in his flat tone.
"I don't need a doctor, damn it, I am a doctor!" The point was moot anyways because I knew why I had fallen and hit my head. That wasn't the mystery here. Jim was the one who needed an examination.
"Doctor, I merely wished to express-"
Jim rolled his eyes, knowing that this would last a while without his interference. "Spock, you have the conn." Offering me his hand, Jim pulled me to my feet. "I'll take the doctor to sickbay." He grinned for a moment at the irony in his statement.
As soon as the doors swished shut behind us, we both turned to each other ready to express concern for the others' health.
"Bones-" he started.
I cut in, determined to finally get the point across that he needed help. "Jim. Why didn't you tell me your condition had gotten so serious? I'm a doctor, not a fortune-teller! You can't expect me to be damned clairvoyant."
"…Huh?" He really didn't understand. Must be a side effect. He raised his eyebrows so high they reached his golden brown hairline. "Now slow. the fuck. down. What are you talking about?"
I paused before replying. "Your blatant lusting after that green-blooded bast…" My voice drifted off as all color drained out of his face. "-ard…. Jim?"
"W-what do you…"
I wasn't accusing him of anything. I tried to make this clear. "Don't worry. Spock probably just touched the wrong random-pheromone-producing-flower on his last mission and-" Jim was shaking his head violently. "It happens all the time."
His entire demeanor had shifted to panicked and almost feverish. Now I was worried. If this had been the result of his or Spock's contact with an alien substance and he was merely under its control, he wouldn't be reacting so… viscerally.
"My quarters. Now." Regaining some semblance of self control, he dragged me to the turbolift. "Now, you have to promise not to murder me. I'll explain when we have some privacy." He glanced nervously at the discreetly placed security camera.
I wasn't entirely dense. "Oh no you don't. If this is going where I think this is going, we're going to need some medical help."
//-//-//
Once we reached my office I pulled a curved bottle of Saurian brandy from its hiding place in my desk along with two glasses. We sat silently, watching the brownish liquid fill each glass a few times before either of us felt prepared to talk about our feelings.
"I can't stop thinking about him, Bones," he muttered finally, making eye contact for only a moment before averting his gaze to the glass in his hand. I felt an eyebrow raise reflexively, but leaned back and let him speak. He shifted, uncomfortable under the scrutiny, and poured himself another drink. Then another. And another. And yet another. At this rate he'd be drunk enough to spill his guts to me within five minutes even experienced in binge drinking as he was. "You're my best friend, really my only friend as far as I'm concerned. My mom can't stand to be around me, Sam got sick of my shit years ago…" I was starting to regret my lets-get-Kirk-drunk-plan. "Which makes you my only real family too." It was a touching sentiment, but I'd heard all this before. We'd been through it. Many times actually. He knew all my problems and I knew all of his. Which, now that I thought about it, was exactly why we had stopped drinking together.
"Where does Spock come into this?" I asked, slightly impatient. A large smile spread across his face.
"Spock… I don't feel like that around Spock." He half giggled, then his gaze turned serious. "When my hand brushes against Spock's arm the whole room catches on fire. Then he looks at me and I remember why I can't let my hand stay there. He knows, Bones, about the fire. His skin's so warm… He has to stay in control or he'll burn up." It was silent for a very long moment and I stared at my friend with genuine concern for his sanity.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Maybe I wasn't the best person for this. I wasn't a psychiatrist after all. And not the most tactful person out there. But Jim didn't care about tact. Probably how we managed to be such good friends for so long.
"Spock. I'm talking about Spock. Why would I want to talk about anyone other than Spock? I can't think about anyone else long enough to come up with something to say about them." He grinned a sloppy, drunken grin with no memory of how troubled he'd looked only seconds ago. "Your eyes are the same color as Spock's shirt."
"Really, Jim? Really?"
"Yep." He missed the exasperation in my voice. "Blue's so nice."
"I'm glad you approve. Jim, does Spock know about this?"
"I should tell him. I think he likes blue too."
"Not that, Jim."
"Oh."
His tone had softened and he sounded like a child. Goddamned brandy. I tried again. "Does he know?"
"…Spock knows how I make him feel, and he knows how he makes me feel, but he doesn't understand yet."
"Understand what?" Every time his voice took on a new emotion I lost his train of thought.
"I don't know. He doesn't understand a lot of things." He was still holding something back and, taking into account his current state, that certainly spoke strongly to his desire to keep that something secret.
Curiosity tugged at me, but with a sigh I held it back. "Why don't you get some sleep." He nodded slowly and, seeing that the conversation was over, stumbled out of his chair. "Nurse," I pressed down a button on my computer.
"Yes, sir?"
"Please ensure that the captain finds his way onto one of our cots."
//-//-//
"Spock!" At the sound of his name he stopped and turned, acknowledging my presence with a slight inclination of his annoyingly symmetrical head. "There you are." I knew this was a bad idea, but I'd been drawn into this absurd love affair and needed to see it sorted out.
Author's Note: so chapter two came out a bit early! got back from my run and actually got around to finishing it :)
thank you so much to the people who added this story to favorites and alerts and such and i hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as you did the last one. and specially thanks to the people who reviewed :) reviews are kinda the best things ever.
This story will probably only last about 5 chapters and stay in McCoy's POV the whole time cause he's kinda awesome.
btw. a few people asked about the title. it's McCoy's favorite drink and just sounded like it fit :)
So yea... please lemme know what you think/message-email-whatever me if you wanna fangirl/boy out about anything star trek related cause i'm currently obsessing