McCoy's Mess

by Tigereyes45

Scotty approaches Kirk with some concerns regarding Bones. The bathroom has never been so messy before. So Kirk does something about it.

In the McKirk discord there were conversations about bathroom shenanigans and of course I was struck with inspiration for this story.

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Kirk was walking through the halls, heading for his room at the end of his shift. The lights were beginning to dim, for the simulated evening hours. He passes by Scotty's door and is almost beyond McCoy's when the former opens up. "Captain!" Kirk throws on a smile and turns back halfway to get a good look at his head engineer's face.

Kirk throws out one hand, welcoming Scotty over. "Scotty, what seems to be the problem?"

"Problem is right sir." He looks around the hall, before jutting his head down the hall. "Can we speak in a place with a bit more privacy?"

Kirk clasps his hands together behind his back. "I was just heading to my room."

The captain had suspected a request for yet another early shipment of new parts for the ship. One that would undoubtedly include dozens of new recipes that are not yet in the replicator's system. Instead, Scotty makes his way across the room, toward the wall on the far side of the desk. He folds his own hands behind his back, and jumps straight into the discussion with a question of his own. "Captain, is the doctor alright?"

Kirk blinks as he searches Scotty's face. The man was leaning forward, hands kept out of the way, mouth open, and brows furrowing together. Jim strolls over to his desk and takes a seat. He leans back prompting up his arm, and runs a finger along his cheek. "Why do you think something's wrong with Dr. McCoy?"

Scotty opens his mouth before closing it. He repeats that a few times, wetting his mouth as he considers the best way to say what's on his mind. "Y'see," he starts, unfolding his hands. "Can this be off the record sir?"

Straightening up, Kirk resits the urge to demand an explanation. If it was an emergency Mr. Scott wouldn't waste time tiptoeing around it. Bones is fine. That thought does little to settle the tenseness in Kirk's shoulders. He flexes his hands, stretching his fingers to give them something else to do. "Is this a personal matter, or a professional one?"

"Personal, sir."

"Then I won't make mention of it, so long as it doesn't cross over into yours and his, professional lives."

"Aye, sir. Thank you, captain." Scotty pulls out the chair Spock usually sits in. "The doctor and I share a bathroom. It's usually a bit messy. I tend to leave padds in there for reading, and the doctor isn't the quickest to pick up his towels, or clothes after a shower."

Kirk waves his hand to urge Scotty past this part. Scott gives a curt nod and jumps ahead. "Point is, sir, the room's a mess." He rolls his hands as he lists off the problems. "There's clothes everywhere, at least two empty bottles were hidden behind the toilet," Scotty leans a little closer in. "and that man doesn't bother to hide his glasses on a bad day," Sitting back Scotty starts to count on his fingers. "Trash is overflowin' from the bin, the shower rack is hangin' half off, the tub has a solid layer of what I can only assume are medical chemicals in a near-perfect ring," Scotty plants his hands on his knees, and nearly leans clean across Kirk's desk. "and worse yet the smell." Scotty looks around the room before whispering, "It smells like sickbay. A bathroom's not supposed to smell like a doctor's office captain."

Raising a hand, Kirk halts Scott there. "Thank you for raising this concern. I'll talk with the doctor."

"Aye, anytime captain. I've never seen him look so miserable."

That causes Kirk to look more closely over Mr. Scott's face. He appears geuinely concerned. Still, McCoy offers as many smiles as he does frowns. A majority of the crew has taken to calling the doctor canterkrous at his baseline. Yet Scotty believes him to be utterly miserable? Could he be feeling even worse then he had after Landru, or after Deneva?

If Bones was truly upset, how had he not noticed it?

Wait. "Scotty if the bathroom is so horrid how have you not noticed till now?" There's no way that all collected in the matter of a single day.

"To be fair I don't return to my room too often, sir." Chronic overworkers. This whole ship is comprised of them. "The bottles were a bit of a tip off four nights ago, but I let it go. Who hasn't had a bad night or two?" Indeed, but McCoy hates mess. He'd rather have a half-barren room then a potentially, messy one.

Lost in thought Kirk absentmindedly dismisses Scotty. The head engineer seems taken aback by the sudden dismissal. Thankfully he doesn't try to argue with or pry into Kirk's thoughts. He heads for the door, turns last second to bid Kirk a goodnight, then walks away, heading in the opposite direction of his room.

Standing, Kirk slips two fingers under the cuff of his right sleeve. He adjusts it, then does the same for his left, while pacing. He eyes float over the computer's screen. The shifts just changed. Bones is supposed to be taking a break for this and next shift. It wouldn't be out of the norm for him to work through it.

Decision made, Kirk pulls out a pair of work gloves he keeps in his top drawer. He cuts through his bathroom, using the backdoor that cuts into the unused hallway where Spock had placed a chess table and chairs for their late night games. Staying close to the wall, Kirk keeps his hands at his sides, and an eye out. Aside from a pair of ensigns walking through, chattering away about a mess in the science department, it was clear.

Once he's standing in front of McCoy's bedroom door Kirk gives it a ring. He folds his hands over his arms as it rings without answer. Kirk looks around the hall once more. The ensigns were almost at the opposite end of the hall. Quickly, he puts in McCoy's security code. A chill runs down the captain's back as he steps inside. The room was cold, surprisingly so. McCoy preferred heat similar to those of Georgia's summers. It helped him feel a little more grounded while exploring the black expanse.

Bones' bedroom was messier then usual as well. With cups all over his desk, and blankets scattered all about. Even a few used clothes had been tossed about, some were as far as on the wall opposite of the hamper. Kirk has seen worse dorm rooms, but this was far from the norm for their dear old doctor. He'll pick this place up after the bathroom.

He pulls a trash bag out from a roll McCoy keeps under his bed. Tearing off a bag, Kirk heads into the bathroom. Scotty was right, for Bones' standards this place was a mess. Though Jim has certainly seen some worse off bathrooms, in the shared bathrooms when he was an ensign. There was the two bottles hidden behind the toilet, but a third and fourth sitting empty under the sink. Were they new additions, or part of Scotty's used stash? In either case, Kirk sets the unmentioned bottles into the bag. Next he cleans out the trashcan, sweeps the floor, and wipes down the sink. Jim wrings out the soaking rag, and snatches the bleach spray bottle and turns to face his greatest challenge.

Now that he was looking at the tub, he could understand Scotty's assumption. It's clear instead of using the sonic shower, McCoy has been soaking in a bath full of water. The bizarre part is the green line of speckled dirt, and grime that encricles the tub two inches below the top.

Has he been filling the tub nearly to the top? What's been on him that would cause the water to go green? Was it chemicals from sickbay, the science lab, a third, weirder option? Is this the source of that strange, chemically charged smell permeating throughout the room? Kirk wasn't even going to try and start guessing at the answers. He was an top student at the academy but he still has his short comings. Especially when it comes to chemical structures, and reactions. Thankfully, Spock and McCoy are more then able to make up for his shortcomings.

Kirk rests his knees against the tiled floor, and begins by spraying the entirety of the rind with bleach. He plugs up the tub. Then runs a little water to fill out it's bottom. Jim runs the rag through the water, before bringing it up towards a bit of the green line closest to him. At first it refuses to come off. After two more rounds of spray, and incessant scrubbing it begins to flake off. Jim finds a pattern of spray, scrub for a minute, then spray again. He methodically follows it, until the whole tub is spotless.

Once it's done, Kirk steps back and admires his work. Truly the bath was the cleanest it has ever been. Jim even felt confident that it was cleaner then the day it was first installed. Pride swells in his chest as Kirk folds up the rag. He twists the top of the trash bag shut and carries it out.

As he steps back into the doctor's room, he throws the rag into Bones' clothes hamper. Kirk lowers his arm as a quiet cough sends a shiver crawling down his neck.

McCoy stood in between his office space, and bedroom, weight leaning onto his back left foot, and arms crossed. A familiar scowl that dances between annoyed, and exhausted, etched into his face. "What are you doing in here?"

Kirk stands dumbfoundedly still. Wasn't it obvious? He holds the trashbag up in answer. When McCoy says nothing Kirk adds with a touch of sarcasm, "Cleaning."

"Why are you cleaning in my room?" McCoy waves his hand. "Scratch that. What are you cleaning?"

"Your bathroom was a mess."

"It's rarely not." His bitter tone highlights a long unspoken irritation about the state of things. Maybe the occasional padd or left behind towel bothers Bones more than Scotty thought.

Well if he's going to be in trouble, there's little point in going down alone. "Scotty made mention that it was more of a pigsty than usual."

"So you took it upon yourself to fix that," McCoy looks him up and down. "captain?"

Kirk shrugs, "I came to talk to you Bones." He looks around the room. Seeing no trashcan large enough to hold the half filled bag, Kirk drops it on the floor by the bathroom door. He smacks his hands together, shaking loose grime off of his gloves, before ripping them off and setting them ontop of the tied bag.

When Kirk looks up again, McCoy is still standing there in the entranceway between his living area and the bedroom, arms crossed over his chest. A less more annoyed than angry scowl on his face. Well that was more or less the reaction he had expected. Which was far from the one Kirk wanted. The captain looks away from McCoy towards the corner of the room. Of course his eyes flicker to McCoy's bed. What was usually an extremely well kept, orderly mass of blankets, sheets, and an extra comforter, now lies in a state of utter disarray. McCoy's unfitted sheet lies hanging half off of the bed itself, barely clinging to the bottom half of it. While the blankets and comforter lay crumpled around the floor in various places. The furthest of which sits a blanket Kirk had gotten McCoy on their last visit back to Earth for shore leave, before he had ever step foot onto the Enterprise.

The green and grayish-blue blanket shows a colorful rendition of the Blue Ridge mountains. It lays stretched out, and wrinkled, against the wall from McCoy's bedroom into his office space, as if it had fallen off Bones' shoulders when he had dragged himself out of bed one morning. Kirk could picture the scene clearly in his mind's eye. "You're room's a mess." Though not nearly as disastrous as the bathroom had been.

"Don't tell me you're planning to clean that next." There's a little more sarcasm and a tinge-less annoyance in McCoy's voice this time. Kirk takes that as a good sign.

"Well I wouldn't have too if you took better care of your things, doctor."

McCoy rolls his eyes and leans against the wall. He still hasn't uncrossed his arms. Was that really so comfortable a pose? "I was going to get around to it. You could have asked a yeoman to do this, or order me to myself. As captain you shouldn't-"

Kirk waves off the lecture with a hand. "Alright, alright." He once again rests his hands on his sides. "I was worried about you." Kirk admits with a gentle, smaller smile. "It's not everyday that Scotty comes to me with concerns."

"I'll have to tell him to keep his concerns about me to himself."

"Now there's no need to go that far doctor." Scotty was hardly to blame. Kirk crosses the room and stops beside the blanket. Kirk leans over and picks it up before Bones could react. "I remember this." Kirk holds it up and looks it over. Despite a few wrinkles the images was as clear as the day Kirk first got it for McCoy. "You've taken good care of it." Carefully, Kirk folds the large blanket easily in halves and then quarters over his arms. "I wonder why an item you've clearly taken care of was left on the ground, Bones."

"It fell off when I got out of bed to answer your comm this morning."

"There's a computer by your bed. You hardly had to come all this way."

McCoy narrows his eyes. He fixes Kirk with an impudent glare. The comm by his bed shows visuals. It doesn't take a scientist to piece together that McCoy was trying to keep the state of his room private. Kirk once again feels grateful for Scotty's concern. How long has this been going on? Kirk waves his free hand towards the doctor, rolling it as he asks, "How about you tell me what's really going on, Bones?"

Leonard's stance tightens as he stands straighter. His lips press together before he sucks them in, as if mulling over his options. Kirk lets him go through his process. In the end, the doctor realizes what Jim already knew. There's no getting out of this.

With begrudging acceptance, McCoy waves Kirk over towards the chairs by his desk. Then the doctor's head snaps towards the wall behind him, where Spock's room lies just on the other side. Deciding against the desk, McCoy grabs one of the chairs from his desk, and drags it across the floor, towards the one other seat in the bedroom half of his cabin. Kirk takes the larger, already present seat. He folds one leg over the other, and gets comfortable. McCoy sits his own chair a little closer then necessary to Kirk's left side, away from the direction of his propped-up leg. McCoy brings his own right leg upright against his chest, leaning across the back of his own chair at an odd angle. Back straight as he wraps his arms around his lifted knee. Even in the slightly dim bedroom lighting, his bright blue eyes are crystal clear. His eyes are so clear, even as the shadows serve to highlight Bones' age and thinner frame. He was never skeletal, but Kirk could tell, he hadn't been eating recently. Definitely not as much as he should be. There's not as much weight to his face or waist. His leg comes to easily to his chest, Kirk decides.

Like a ghost midst a haunting.

Kirk pushes the dour thought from his mind. Bones is find. This is just, well he's about to find out what this is.

"Bones?" Kirk tries to keep the concern burdening his heart from his voice. Instead, he goes for a playful tone. "I think this is the longest I've gone without a response from you."

"Don't get smart, Kirk." Bones orders, and for a split second Kirk feels as if they're back at the bar on Argelius II all those years ago. Where Jim had made the mistake of joking about how all grown up Joanna was then, when she first started school to become a nurse. Now she was off, putting all that medical knowledge to good use. Somewhere. McCoy hadn't mentioned any updates regarding Joanna for a bit, Kirk realizes with a start. That should have been his first clue that something was very wrong.

As if reading Jim's mind, Bones cuts in with, "Joanna's fine."

"I wasn't-"

McCoy cuts him off with a scoff. "You think something's wrong with me. I'd be willing to bet your running through a checklist in your head of what it could be. That paired with the fact that I haven't mentioned my daughter anytime soon," McCoy waves his hand out into a shrug. "Call it an educated guess."

"Fine doctor, you got me." Kirk throws up his hands in defeat. He quickly moves to wave his hand over towards the doctor. "If nothing's wrong with Joanna, what is bothering you." McCoy opens his mouth, and Kirk wags a finger at him. "And don't say nothing." Kirk smirks. Now it was his time to show off just how well he knows his oldest friend. "Your bathroom was a disaster, more than I expected given who you're sharing it with." That earns Kirk a faint smile from Bones. Of course the doctor quickly tries to hide it. Too late. Jim presses on a little gentler. "Your bed, which I have only seen put together, or completely bare, is in a state," Kirk pauses as his eyes linger on McCoy. Were his shoulders shaking?

Kirk stands up, and unfolds the blanket over his arm. McCoy's eyes go wide as his head follows Jim. The doctor's body shakes a little more as Kirk steps behind his chair. He tenderly rests the blanket around McCoy's shoulders. "And you haven't been eating," Kirk whispers. He lightly presses his fingers into the blanket, pushing it a little further to cover Bones' shoulders completely. A shiver passes through the doctor, under Kirk's touch.

Leaning forward, Kirk admits, "I'm worried Leonard."

Silence fills the room, and for a moment Jim expects the truth to come pouring out of McCoy.

Of course the doctor breaks the silence with, "Well you don't have to worry about this old country doctor." He smoothly pats the top of Kirk's hand with his own.

A stalemate already? Well Kirk has been in tougher games of chess against Spock, then this. "As the captain," he starts, walking back around McCoy towards his own chair. "I must make sure that everyone on the ship is of sound mind."

"Pretty sure that's my job." McCoy's drawl was growing.

"Who watches the chief medical officer?"

Bones presses his hand against his face. "Nurse Chapel if you ask her."

"And has Nurse Chapel made mention any notes of concern or worry for you lately?"

McCoy's frown grows deeper. Kirk had been dead on. "Perhaps I should go talk to the nurse," he suggest as he scoots closer to the edge of his seat. McCoy's eyes finally meet Kirk's own. "Or you could tell me honestly," Kirk wraps his hands together and rests his elbows on his knees, as he leans closer to his left, and McCoy. "What's wrong?"

Bones lifts his head. His eyes fly over Kirk's face, before he drops his gaze again. "Jim," This time he turns his chair a little, so he was looking McCoy straight on. While he waits for the doctor to find his words, Kirk watches him, patience giving way to anxiety. He can't force Bones to tell him anything. There's no way to make him take care of himself either. Still he tries to convey with pleading eyes that he's hear. That'll he's always has been here. Especially for his oldest friend who has always been there for him, whenever Jim needed. For a moment McCoy's bright baby blues seem to quiver. His hands freeze up and his chest heaves with a deep breath. Bones was starting to break. Kirk waits.

Something washes over Leonard's face. His eyes tear away from Kirk's face. "I'm just tired Jim."

"Tired?" Kirk repeats not even trying to hide his baffled disbelief. "You're tired?" He repeats nodding his head as if that will make the lack of an answer easier to swallow. His eyes catch on the messy bed. That disbelieving, nervous open-mouthed smile shifts into a grin. With plenty of force, Kirk smacks his hands against his knees. The sound earns a jump from McCoy, as his leg slips off the chair. It hits the ground as Bones' tightens his hands around the blanket.

Kirk ignores the temporary fright on McCoy's face, and heaves himself forward. The captain strides right over to the bed. "Jim?" Ignoring his friend, Kirk grabs the loose sheet from where it dangles and starts to stretch it back out. "Jim, what are you doing?" Kirk couldn't decide if Bones sounded more curious or indignant.

Now that he has earned the doctor's attention Kirk turns to face him, still holding the sheet outstretched between his arms. "You're tired." He wanted to say it simply, and innocently, but the captain knows some sarcasm must've slipped out in his tone from the way McCoy pulls his lips back into a frown. Kirk looks at the bed then back at McCoy. "I'm making your bed, or would you prefer me to strip it instead?"

McCoy's whole head rolls back with his eyes, as he gripes, "Of all the stupid-"

"Well which is it Bones?" He waves the sheet. "Off or on?"

The next look Bones gives him is less of a glare and more of an annoyed half-smile. Kirk smiles in return. He was getting there. "On." McCoy says with exaggerated emphasis.

Enjoying his victory, Kirk flattens out the sheet, places the pillows back ontop it, and goes to grab the tossed-about blankets. He leaves the Blue Ridge mountains on Bones' shoulders and places the singular comforter on last. For a moment Jim considered asking if the comforter was necessary, but Bones was used to Georgia's summer heat, and the enterprise is a ship that travels through the cold emptiness of space. He probably enjoys burning up and slowly shedding his blankets off throughout the night.

With a grin, Kirk plants his fists back on his hips and turns to Bones. "Are you going to get in bed yourself, or should I carry you, doctor?"

This time Bones can't stop the soft smile that fills out his face. The crow's feet highlight his startling blue eyes, while the laugh lines remind Kirk of all the years McCoy must've had filled with smiles, and jokes before the divorce. Before they met. Sometimes he wishes they had met back then. Maybe he would have realized sooner how unhealthy Gary Mitchell's influence over his life was. Maybe he'd have as many laugh lines as McCoy at this point.

Maybe McCoy wouldn't put up such a fight when Jim tries to get him in bed. "Well?" Kirk waves his arms towards the bed, showing it off like a ship salesman. He puts on his best, hurry up and get over here, smile.

Once more McCoy rolls his eyes. This time his head lands against the knuckles of his propped-up arm. With a light in his eyes, Bones throws Kirk a grin. It feels like McCoy was daring him to try. Kirk shakes his head as he fails to hide his smile. Alright then. He'll rise to this unspoken challenge.

Kirk lifts his head to meet McCoy's gaze with a confident smirk. The grin vanishes from the doctor's face as realization dawns in his eyes. He hadn't expected Jim to take the bait. Kirk crosses the room as McCoy hikes himself further on top of his chair. Before he could stand in it, Jim loops one arm under the doctor's folded knees and braces the other along his back. Kirk attempts to keep his little huff silent as he heaves the doctor up. Of course, Kirk leans back, forcing McCoy to lean against his chest. "Don't lift with your back!" The other man practically hisses as he frantically wraps his arms around Kirk's neck. "I can have you confined to sickbay for this!"

Ignoring the hollow threat, Kirk leans his head forward and straightens out his back. There's an ache. McCoy's wide, round eyes were watching Jim closely. He forces himself to smile to hide the pain. McCoy wasn't a heavy man, but it's not every day Jim carries someone fully off the ground, all alone. "First you have to finish out your sentence in bed." A sentence that wouldn't be followed if he got so much as a whiff of any soreness from the captain. The smallest grimace and Jim knows Bones will go bouncing out of his arms.

"I'm still in my uniform Jim." McCoy's arms tighten a little around Kirk's neck as he leans the doctor a little forward. He quickly course-corrects and readjusts his arm along McCoy's back to keep the doctor steady. Now that he was actually holding him up, Kirk could tell McCoy was definitely lighter. Even though the doctor was doing his best to hold his head away, Kirk could feel some heat coming off of him. Was he sick? It wouldn't be the first time Bones went out of his way to hide a sickness, but that doesn't explain why the bathroom was such a mess.

Could he have gotten sick from the messy bathroom? Kirk ponders if that's possible as McCoy lets out a rather exaggerated sigh. Jim's knees bump against the bed's frame. Bones' tighten as the doctor begins his tirade. "Bend down with your legs, don't just lean over." Jim was in fact in the middle of bending over. "Bend your legs, Jim!"

Exhaustion seeps in as Kirk complies. For half a second he considers just dropping McCoy. The fact that Bones would never let Kirk do so much as lean the doctor over him ever again, keeps the urge at bay in the back of his mind.

With Bones now fully on the bed, he unloops his arms from their vice grip around Kirk's neck. "Don't do that again." McCoy huffs.

He was in bed. All in all, Jim would count that as a victory. He grabs the doctor's blankets with one hand and braces the other on McCoy's shoulder. Slowly but firmly Jim pushes him back down. "I think you enjoyed it."

McCoy props himself up on his elbows to keep Kirk's hand from pushing him down any further. "Don't get -" Kirk sweeps Leonard's right arm out from under him. The doctor falls right down with a stupified look. How he could forget about Jim's strength was a mystery.

"Just rest, Bones."

With a roll of his head, McCoy finally complies. Grumbling, he rolls over onto his side, back to Kirk. "You should've said, 'Rest those old bones'."

"You're not that much older than me Bones." Six years was plenty of time for the gray hairs to come in early on Bones, but that's all.

"My bones are." Kirk laughs and shakes his head. McCoy tightens the blankets around his shoulder. "Just make sure you lock the door on your way out."

"I will."

The doctor's head snaps back around. "And don't clean anything else!"

Well if they were going to talk, Kirk sits on the edge of McCoy's bed. Back against back. The ache from early soothes as his pulled muscle gets to relax. "No promises."

"You drive me up a wall."

"And into space," Kirk adds, patting the doctor's back.

"My divorce helped with that part." It's a moment of honesty, Kirk hadn't expected. They don't often speak of such things. Like most things, McCoy prefers to leave the past alone. He sits, and thinks on it alone, in moments where his silence speaks volumes to those who know what to look for.

Jim's thankful that he just happened to be one of those.

It only takes around two minutes and twenty-four seconds before McCoy starts to snore. It's faint, which Kirk takes as a sign that he's asleep, but could still be easily woken up. Kirk gets up all at once. There's not so much as a creak from the bed.

The first thing Kirk does it grab his gloves and take the trash out to the hall. He stops a passing ensign and asks them to deal with the garbage bag. The expression on the young officer's face screams, 'uh, why are you walking out of the chief medical officer's room with a bag of trash'. They think better before the words could slip out of their hung-open mouth.

Kirk slips back into McCoy's room and picks up the cups in various stages empty from around the desk. With the desk cleared off and the completely empty cups on a tray, Jim carries the rest of the dishware to the bathroom. One of the six cups in his left arm starts to slip. Kirk quickly leans forward, grabbing the edge of the cup just barely with the corner of his mouth.

It's in this embarrassing position that the door finishes opening, revealing Kirk fully to a surprised Scotty. Water drips off his hands, as his face goes red with near-embarrassment. Thankfully they had both managed to avoid a very awkward situation. Scott's face goes from furrowed brows and a slack jaw to a full-face grin. "Need a hand there, sir?"

Absentmindedly Kirk goes to say yes. The cup's side scrapes against the back of his teeth as it slips away. He quickly moves his head down and catches the cup again. Jim lifts the cup in his mouth, only to feel weight add to the drink. Jim raises a brow as Scotty pulls his hand away from the bottom of the drinkware. Scotty offers a knowing smile and holds his hands up. "Was just tryin' ta help." He steps back, allowing Kirk clear sight of the sink. "Don't let me keep ya captain," Soctty says holding back his arms.

"Mffhmm uh acty." He hopes the sounds were close enough to be deciphered as he shuffles past his head engineer. Kirk maneuvers his arms awkwardly over the sink as he carefully sets down the cups one after another. The light above the bathroom mirror attempts to blind him several times through its reflection in the more filled glasses. He deftly drops the last glasses. Plucking the final, plastic cup from between his teeth Kirk brings it down to his stomach as he catches Scotty's reflection in the mirror.

The Scotsman was holding his arms with a playful smile. He watches the captain for a moment before leaning across the doorway to check in on McCoy. "How is the fine doctor doin'?"

"Better, now." Kirk runs his tongue over his teeth. The taste of plastic still lingers on them. His tongue recoils away. Turning on the sink he fills his cupped hand full of water, as his other hand empties out the drinks. He catches sight of Scotty leaning back against the wall again. Arms crossed over his chest. Kirk spits out the water and hopes it's enough to erase the plastic taste from before. For good measure, he wipes his lips off with the sleeve of his shirt. "Thank you, Mr. Scott."

Scotty smiles at that. "I assumed if anyone could help him out, it'd be you captain." That pulls a smile to Kirk's lips. It's reassuring that the closeness Kirk feels with McCoy is evident to the others. Perhaps on the bridge such a remark would have made reprimand the engineer. Here, in the privacy of McCoy's space, he doesn't feel the need to deny the influence of their relationship over him.

"Aye, well I leave 'im to you." Scotty gives Kirk a little wave from his doorway, before it shuts. There's a soft click as he locks the door behind him.

Once all the cups are emptied out, Kirk returns them to McCoy's desk. He places them all on the tray with the others. Whenever this tray makes it to the kitchen someone's going to have a lot of fun scrubbing the sticky remains of alcohol and various other drinks from the inside and outside of these cups. He should check who's on dish duty later, and send them his thanks, and apologies.

Kirk sets the tray down in the hallway. He quickly ducks back into McCoy's room before yet another ensign can look his way with questions written all over their face. Kirk turns the heat back up to Bones' standard. Jim strides over towards Bones' dresser. In the left side of his second top drawer, Kirk pulls out a black shirt. From the right side, he finds a folded pair of black pants. Jim sets the folded outfit on top of each other by McCoy's bed. He then asks the computer to dim the lights the rest of the way.

In the dark, only the faint light coming from the computer by McCoy's desk offers highlights the shelf that stands in place of a wall between the separated areas. How McCoy can sleep with the blue light highlighting one half of his face, Jim would never understand. Yet the doctor does sleep. Kirk hopes his sleep lasts soundly throughout the night.

Just one night.

Jim's known him for too long to not be aware of the night terrors. What causes them, he has no idea. Jim only asked once. Bones never bothered to give a response.

Catching himself staring, Jim pulls his mind free from his thoughts. At some point, he had begun gripping McCoy's side table. Kirk lets it go, scratching the underside of his pointer finger.

A hand catches his. Fingers wrap around his palm. "Jim?"

McCoy was still laying down, eyes shut, the mountains still wrapped around his shoulders. "Yes, Bones?" A gentle fondness warms his chest.

"You didn't have to clean the whole room." His voice was clear as day in spite of his evident grogginess.

"I didn't."

"Don't lie to me Jim. I know you better than any other human on this ship. Notwithstanding the half-vulcan."

"Well the mind-melding does give him a bit of an advantage." Kirk jokes with a soft smile.

McCoy opens his eyes slightly. Leveraging his head back on his pillow, the exhausted man fixes his half-lidded gaze on Jim. "That's the advantage of having light pouring in through the shelf. I can see you smiling."

"That's not such a remarkable thing, doctor."

"Yes it is Jim." Bones scoots over slightly in his bed, closer to the edge Kirk was standing beside. "When was the last time you got any rest captain."

"I will soon Bones."

"Yes." Bones pats the empty side of his bed. "You will."

This time Kirk tries to hold back his laugh. "Bones aren't we a little old for sleepovers?"

"Jim the way I see it is you can get in this bed, or I can get out of it and finish my work."

Ah. Either he gets what he wants or neither of them do. Well played. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a very petty man?"

"Yes."

Jim slides into bed besides Bones. As he tucks an arm under his pillow, McCoy sits up. "Hey-"

"Relax. I'm getting pajamas on." He answers with a wave. McCoy leans over Kirk, arm stretched out. His chest nearly bumps against the side of Kirk's head. The captain rolls over onto his back so Bones could leverage himself over more. McCoy takes advantage of it. This time his shirt does land in Kirk's face just as he let's out a huff, "There we go." Bones pulls back, clothes in hand, no longer cover Kirk's face. Jim rubs his itchy nose.

McCoy slowly moves his legs over the side of the bed. When his back was to Jim, the older man glances over his shoulder. Only the shiloette of his face is visible in the computer's light. "Thank you for pulling these out Jim." He casually raises the clothes.

"Well I wanted you to be comfortable."

"I know." McCoy's face looks ahead again. Jim was half sure that it was hanging over the clothes in his hands now. "If you want to go back to your room, I won't stop you."

"Go get changed Bones." Kirk partially covers a yawn with one hand. The other he tucks behind his head, and under his pillow. "I'll be here when you get back."

That earns him a full upper body twist from McCoy. "You sure you don't want to go back and at least get a change of clothes?"

"Could I borrow a pair of your pants?"

A laugh erupts from McCoy. He folds over slightly, letting it shake his whole body. "Go ahead." With that Bones gets up and groggily stumbles into the bathroom. Kirk gets up and reaches into the same drawer as before. His hands grab at the soft frabric on the right side.

The pants come up over his hips easily, but the legs hang a little loose around the heels of his feet. There were some perks to bein the same height as the doctor. Though McCoy's legs were slightly longer. Too bad, it would have been a perfect fit otherwise. Kirk pulls off his shirt, and throws it into the laundry hamper, whose lid he had left open earlier. He makes a mental note to fetch the shirt out later when he leaves. There was plenty of ammunitoion for new rumors already. Surely one shirt would cause that much of a ruckus.

A calm composure flows over him, as a current of warm air blows in from the vent. McCoy's soft comforter. His conciousness was already starting to slip away when McCoy returned. "What do you think your doing?"

"Going to sleep?" Kirk's tongue feels heavy as he fights back the weight of rest.

"Not like that. Get under the covers." McCoy orders, tugging at the blankets beneath Kirk.

Frowning Kirk yawns, and lifts his lower back to make it easier on the doctor. "It's too hot for all that." The sheets still catch around his ankles. Collapsing back on his back, Kirk's feet bounce up and he holds them up in the air for what feels like an enternity before they come crashing back down on a now empty bed. The sheets weren't the softest, but Kirk has slept in sand before, so they were easy to get used to as his conciousness begins to slip again,

"What are you? A heathen?" McCoy complains, as his voice fills Kirk's ears. "You can't sleep in bed with someone else and stay ontop of their blankets. That's a sure fire way to pull them all off in the middle of the ngiht." The complaint goes on. Jim opens his mouth to respond, but his words die in his mind before he could speak them.

What was he going to say?

"Kirk? Kirk." McCoy's voice grows softer. "Damn it. Take this." The doctor orders, the edge in his voice completely gone now.

Something soft is laid out over Kirk's chest. It tucks down around his right shoulder that was clsoe to the edge of the bed. Jim raises his right hand without much thoughts and digs his fingers into the soft, familar fabric. Heavy lips push out a faint, "Mountains."

"Yeah." Bones sounds closer now. Something heavier stretches out across Kirk's feet, stopping at his stomach. "If you were going to fall asleep this quickly why did you even bother coming over?" The bed gives way, as McCoy climbs into bed beside him.

"Worried." It felt like that word could expalin it all. Besides the doctor should know, if Kirk wasn't here right now he'd be in his own room, filling out paperwork until he couldn't hold his eyes open anymore. There was no way he'd already be falling asleep such as he is here.

A warm hand stretches out on top of the blue ridge mountains blanket, and under the others. It rests across Kirk's chest, as long, warm fingers close around Kirk's side. Jim forces his eyes open. His head was too heavy to turn so he lets it fall to the left. Bones was laid out on his stomach. His right arm was half under his pillow. The other half of it, from his elbow to his wrist lays diangonally on the top of said pillow. From his periphereal vision Kirk could see the blankets that covered McCoy to his shoulders stopped at his own waist. However the softest of McCoy's blankets was stretched out fully over both of them.

Kirk unfolds his left arm from under his own head and pillow. He stretches it out above his head, and McCoy's arm. Skin brushes against skin. McCoy doesn't flinch or move away. Now with plenty of space to move Kirk scoots a little further from hsi edge of the bed closer towards the middle. "I thought you were hot." Bones eyes remain closed. Kirk closes his own, and holds back his tongue from answering.

Here, in this room they don't have to be the captain and his CMO.

If anyone were to ever find out, Starfleet would have to be told. They'd want a full report, and conversations with both men to make sure Kirk was taking advantage of McCoy. Which is why he didn't press his side right up against the doctor's. If Bones gets any closer it'll be his choice. For a moment, as his mind starts to play through images trying to pick a setting for his dream, fear grips Kirk. Had he forced his way in too much already? Was McCoy actually uncomfortable? Would he quit, would he leave the Enterprise?

Kirk's eyes fly open. McCoy's bedroom lights were turned still dark. Fear still rushing through him, Jim lifts his head and starts to rise. An arm around his chest and a head on his left wrist stop him. Jim turns to look at McCoy. He was still there, arm wrapped tightly around Jim over the mountains blanket. Though he had moved closer and his head was now firmly on Jim's wrist. Bones' other arm was out from under the pillow completely now and up above his head. Fingers lying straight across Jim's left palm.

For a moment the quiet intimacy of it all gets to Jim. It sends his mind racing with more panic. When he moves yet again, McCoy's arm keeps him firmly in place. The miniscule amount of resistance is enough to give him pause. He could easily free himself, but McCoy had asked him to stay, and if in the morning he changes his mind then they could have that discussion. McCoy wouldn't go over such a small matter. It's hardly the first time they've laid next to each other. Couches, tents, floors of all sorts, and that time on the rocky wall of that prison cell. It'll be fine. McCoy is one of the two people he could always count on to set the record straight. Jim lays his head back down. If there's a probem Leonard will make it clear. They'd talk it through. Bones wouldn't leave, he tells himself.

Eyes closed again, sleep threatens to elude him. It's the calm, steady breathing from McCoy, accompanied by the occasional snore that lulls him back to sleep.