Tricks
He woke, remembering instantly where he was. The room--no, the blanket tucked around him--smelled of McCoy, of expensive shower things and a faint tang of blood. It wasn't an unpleasant smell, until his searching eyes fell on the bag in the corner. The flaps were tucked securely together, but he could see Sulu's eyes staring sightlessly back just as if McCoy had left the head sitting on the desk. M'Benga had one eye, nine toes and no balls. Because of him. "Real survival lies in power," Pike had told him. Kirk wasn't sure why, unless Pike had seen in him even then that he couldn't be broken, but might be made to serve more than one man's ambition.
McCoy had fucked him on that desk and he'd come harder than he ever had buried in Uhura's cold cunt, her breathy moans a reward and a mockery. Xenolinguistics. He wondered if he'd ever reached her at all, and if not, why. But he knew why. You did what you had to do to get the job done. It didn't matter if you liked it. He liked liking it, though. It made it harder sometimes. But the rest of the time... The rest of the time, it was worth it.
That was why he was going to forget about McCoy's face as he sliced M'Benga open the way Pike had sliced him, only Pike had had a reason and McCoy had had a good time. He was going to forget Sulu and the soiled uniform and the way McCoy's eyes and fingers lingered on the scar, the places his bones jutted out. You didn't have to know anything about your tricks but what they wanted and what they paid. If you could provide it, and the price was right, you didn't give a fuck what they did at home or at work or any goddamn place but your body. Wasn't entirely apt, and Kirk knew that, but he'd always compartmentalized well and it was good to remember. He and McCoy had a place for each other, and it made sense for now, and Kirk didn't need the details.
Which didn't explain at all why, once back in McCoy's quarters (he could not call them his or theirs, though he hadn't even thought of returning to his own), and with some time before McCoy was due to return, he turned to the computer terminal. It was quick work, even without really breaking into anything, to find Jocelyn McCoy's new husband and new name and her secure address.
Private Message to Jocelyn Bainbridge
Ms. Bainbridge,
No doubt McCoy's told you more about me than he's let on. I'm equally certain you've learned even more on your own. But aside from the picture I can see from where I'm sitting, I don't know much about you. And since we're going to be working together, I thought it was about time I introduced myself. James T. Kirk, I.S.S. Enterprise.
It's a hell of a picture, if you don't mind me saying. And from what little I do know, I look forward to getting to know you better. Not to mention the good doctor, but I'm working on that. And let me know if there's anything I can do up here. I owe McCoy a favor or two, but I'll do yours for free.
Jim Kirk
McCoy had fucked him on that desk and he'd come harder than he ever had buried in Uhura's cold cunt, her breathy moans a reward and a mockery. Xenolinguistics. He wondered if he'd ever reached her at all, and if not, why. But he knew why. You did what you had to do to get the job done. It didn't matter if you liked it. He liked liking it, though. It made it harder sometimes. But the rest of the time... The rest of the time, it was worth it.
That was why he was going to forget about McCoy's face as he sliced M'Benga open the way Pike had sliced him, only Pike had had a reason and McCoy had had a good time. He was going to forget Sulu and the soiled uniform and the way McCoy's eyes and fingers lingered on the scar, the places his bones jutted out. You didn't have to know anything about your tricks but what they wanted and what they paid. If you could provide it, and the price was right, you didn't give a fuck what they did at home or at work or any goddamn place but your body. Wasn't entirely apt, and Kirk knew that, but he'd always compartmentalized well and it was good to remember. He and McCoy had a place for each other, and it made sense for now, and Kirk didn't need the details.
Which didn't explain at all why, once back in McCoy's quarters (he could not call them his or theirs, though he hadn't even thought of returning to his own), and with some time before McCoy was due to return, he turned to the computer terminal. It was quick work, even without really breaking into anything, to find Jocelyn McCoy's new husband and new name and her secure address.
Private Message to Jocelyn Bainbridge
Ms. Bainbridge,
No doubt McCoy's told you more about me than he's let on. I'm equally certain you've learned even more on your own. But aside from the picture I can see from where I'm sitting, I don't know much about you. And since we're going to be working together, I thought it was about time I introduced myself. James T. Kirk, I.S.S. Enterprise.
It's a hell of a picture, if you don't mind me saying. And from what little I do know, I look forward to getting to know you better. Not to mention the good doctor, but I'm working on that. And let me know if there's anything I can do up here. I owe McCoy a favor or two, but I'll do yours for free.
Jim Kirk