like my soul has fallen into the pit of Mordor...fication.
me: i hate sci fi. i really really really hate sci fi.
dave: oh, whatever, how can you be in denial when you've been watching more star trek than i have?
me: I hate you too.
dave: you're like those people from SG-1, the ones that say they hate the Ancients even though they want to be just like them. Uh, the what's-it called....
me: oh, the Goa'uld?
dave: HA.
me: I HATE MY LIFE.
So, Spock & McCoy are stuck in a 20th century Roman Gladiator cell, right.
McCoy: eager to get out of here, aren't you?
Spock: nonsense, merely testing the strength of the door, blah blah blah I am logical, blah blah blah I have no emotions
McCoy is evidently feeling totally intimate today, perhaps because this is the first time he's ever gotten a good look at Spock's muscular forearms outside of sickbay. He's all, *attempts to awkwardly thank Spock for saving his life, like Spock doesn't do that every day and this time is apparently special*
LOOK AT THE AWKWARD BODY LANGUAGE SO CUTE. They are like little boys.
McCoy: I know we fight all the time and don't know whether we really do hate each other or if we're secretly flirting, but -
Spock: look, i haven't got all day, so if you'll hurry up and emote already and let me issue a scathing and impassive retort-
this man is not hot, this man is not hot, this man is not hot.
McCoy: you pointy-eared hobgoblin, i'm trying to thank you for saving my life!
Spock: whatever, like I'd choose to let you die when the alternative is being leered at by Nurse Chapel whenever she feels solicitous.
And of course he attempts to brush it off, but
WOAH HOLY SHIT SLASH
McCoy's all *intense! seething! passionate!* "You're not afraid to die, Spock," he says with the Voice of Omniscience. "You're more afraid of living."
Spock: *stares back solemnly, trying not to be emo and failing*
McCoy: "Each day you stay alive is just one more day you might slip and let your human half peek out."
Spock: I am made of stone, I am made of stone, I am made of stone. :((
McCoy: *flicker of a knowing, sad smile* "that's it, isn't it? Insecurity."
Spock: *ONE TINY UNSHED TEAR SPARKLES, HOVERING, IN HIS EYE*
McCoy: "...why, you wouldn't know what to do with a genuine warm, decent feeling."
Spock: *RECOVERS* "Really, doctor."
The above is said in the most seductive yet dry voice ever, complete with coolly arched eyebrows. sdfk;las. And just when you are like HOLY SHIT I BACKED THE WRONG SHIP:
McCoy, relenting and knowing too much: "I know. I'm worried about Jim, too."
Spock:
ASDFJKDSJDSLADJDSKLASJDKL. Well, that was the shortest time a ship ever sailed. Back to the OTP, or at the very maximum, the OT3. Bones has certainly earned it, though if this is not an outright declaration of "I have accepted that I will always be the third wheel," then the third wheel is, in fact, a polyhedron and never rolled anywhere to begin with.
and just for good measure, soulbonding, via tribbles. TRIBBLES!
that is all.
dave: oh, whatever, how can you be in denial when you've been watching more star trek than i have?
me: I hate you too.
dave: you're like those people from SG-1, the ones that say they hate the Ancients even though they want to be just like them. Uh, the what's-it called....
me: oh, the Goa'uld?
dave: HA.
me: I HATE MY LIFE.
So, Spock & McCoy are stuck in a 20th century Roman Gladiator cell, right.
McCoy: eager to get out of here, aren't you?
Spock: nonsense, merely testing the strength of the door, blah blah blah I am logical, blah blah blah I have no emotions
McCoy is evidently feeling totally intimate today, perhaps because this is the first time he's ever gotten a good look at Spock's muscular forearms outside of sickbay. He's all, *attempts to awkwardly thank Spock for saving his life, like Spock doesn't do that every day and this time is apparently special*
LOOK AT THE AWKWARD BODY LANGUAGE SO CUTE. They are like little boys.
McCoy: I know we fight all the time and don't know whether we really do hate each other or if we're secretly flirting, but -
Spock: look, i haven't got all day, so if you'll hurry up and emote already and let me issue a scathing and impassive retort-
this man is not hot, this man is not hot, this man is not hot.
McCoy: you pointy-eared hobgoblin, i'm trying to thank you for saving my life!
Spock: whatever, like I'd choose to let you die when the alternative is being leered at by Nurse Chapel whenever she feels solicitous.
And of course he attempts to brush it off, but
WOAH HOLY SHIT SLASH
McCoy's all *intense! seething! passionate!* "You're not afraid to die, Spock," he says with the Voice of Omniscience. "You're more afraid of living."
Spock: *stares back solemnly, trying not to be emo and failing*
McCoy: "Each day you stay alive is just one more day you might slip and let your human half peek out."
Spock: I am made of stone, I am made of stone, I am made of stone. :((
McCoy: *flicker of a knowing, sad smile* "that's it, isn't it? Insecurity."
Spock: *ONE TINY UNSHED TEAR SPARKLES, HOVERING, IN HIS EYE*
McCoy: "...why, you wouldn't know what to do with a genuine warm, decent feeling."
Spock: *RECOVERS* "Really, doctor."
The above is said in the most seductive yet dry voice ever, complete with coolly arched eyebrows. sdfk;las. And just when you are like HOLY SHIT I BACKED THE WRONG SHIP:
McCoy, relenting and knowing too much: "I know. I'm worried about Jim, too."
Spock:
ASDFJKDSJDSLADJDSKLASJDKL. Well, that was the shortest time a ship ever sailed. Back to the OTP, or at the very maximum, the OT3. Bones has certainly earned it, though if this is not an outright declaration of "I have accepted that I will always be the third wheel," then the third wheel is, in fact, a polyhedron and never rolled anywhere to begin with.
and just for good measure, soulbonding, via tribbles. TRIBBLES!
that is all.