For a_doctor_not_a

Sep 25, 2009 20:07

He'll only fail him if he needs to be failed. And studying for a course on the course teacher's bed isn't exactly fair, Jim. He at least had the common sense to lock his class PADDS and carry them with him everywhere he goes.

Which was probably wise, because Jim may have tried to check it out early on in the class. He needed more time to hack it, and. Didn't bother trying. But it's plenty fair! Jim isn't looking for answers....exactly. He's just. Looking for his shirt. Which he somehow lost. While studying.

Right. The shirt he somehow lost while studying on -his- bed. Have a brow arch, Jim. And a shake of the head before Leo simply turns and walks back out. Nope...not gunna deal with that. Not right now. He has tests to grade.

He was show-- hey! Where's he going? Jim's jumping up and grabbing the closest shirt he can find - which may or may not be Bones' - and following.

Probably is, actually. And he's not that hard to find. He's out in the courtyard quad, leaning up against a tree, boots shucked off and uniform jacket laying off to one side. And that white undershirt? Well, he's gotten a few looks from passing cadets. Not that he's noticed, of course. He's got a PADD in front of him.

Jim'sjoining those cadets in staring, except he has the distinct ability to go and sit with his pal. Right? Right. Nudging his side, he leans over the doctor's shoulder, peering at the PADD. "Whatcha got?"

"Tests. And no, I'm not showing you yours." Tilting the screen away, he taps a few keys to lock it and blank the screen out before he's leaning back against that treet, stretching his arms out over his head with a yawn. "Thought you were stealing my bed to study. What changed?" And oh, that had a couple of passing Cadet's tripping over themselves when they heard that...

Jim had to hide a smirk when he saw that tripping. "Got bored by myself." Okay, he wasn't hiding it too well. "Come on, Bones, help me out here. I have no idea what Andorian shingles are, despite how frequently you threaten me with them."

That smirk would have him arching a brow...but Jim was always smirking. Usually while looking at other Cadets, so really, there was nothing out of the ordinary here. Resting his head back against the tree and rolling it so that he could look at his friend, he rolled his eyes. "That's because you were too busy flirting with the first year who sits in front of you to pay attention to my lecture. You know, Jim, don't think that just because I'm teaching the class means that I'm going to automatically pass you..."

"I was trying to get you her number!" Jim grinned at him, joking. Was it his fault his seat jut happened to be behind a pretty blond? No, definitely not! Right? "Besides, she was just helping me stay awake. Uh, you know. Long night. Sorry?"

"Oh yea, because dating my students is actually what I was after when I agreed to take on this class." Have another eye roll, Jim. "And since I'm also fairly certain that the original seating chart I had involved you being blocked into the front left corner by the quad team and not smack in the middle of the room surrounded by all of my female students, I'd think you'd have a bit more tact then to flirt in the middle of class. I can always change it back, you know."

"You did? Really? That is so weird, you know, because that would be really, really mean of my roommate to do, wouldn't it?" He grinned, nudging Bones and leaning against him. "Seriously, man. Andorian Shingles. I don't get it."

For a moment he just looks at him, as if trying to size up whether or not the jerk was being a jerk or if he honestly needed help. But in the end, as Jim no doubt planned, he sighed and unlocked the PADD, scrolling past the tests to pull up his lesson plan. "Alright, Romeo, but this is the one and only time I'm going to restate a topic just because you're too busy fielding numbers." Have a lesson on Andorian Shingles, Jim....and watch how most of it comes from memory, the PADD mostly just there for specific numbers and dates.

That makes him grin, a little, watching how Bones barely looks at it. He even has to remind himself to pay attention, once or twice. It doesn't take much, really; Jim absorbs information very well. And soon he's more concerned about how uncomfortable the trunk is against his back, and is leaning a little harder against Bones.

And Bones really isn't moving away, to be honest. Merely shifts so that he's a little bit more comfortable against his chosen spot and so that Jim isn't making his shoulder to numb. After that, it's simply a matter of making sure that Jim's absorbed everything he's just said with quick fired questions. Five seconds to answer each out loud from memory isn't too much to ask of a genius, right?

Not too much to ask at all. He gets the first few just fine, answered immediately. One or two later ones, though, he might falter a bit. It's a beautiful today, and he really did have a long night. And Bones. Bones is so comfortable. Though he'd much rather Bones had stayed in their dorm.

One or two faltered? Bones could live with that, given that he'd basically just popped off the verbal equivalent to the test on the subject. Besides, they had been outside for a while now...and the sun was so comfortably warm for once. Was that a yawn? Maybe. "Mmm...we should cook tonight. Make use of that kitchenette. I don't want to go out, anyway. Been eating to much of that deep fried shit you try to put in front of me."

"Just 'cause it isn't good for you, doesn't mean it isn't good." It m ay also be the only way he'll ever eat corn again. Fry it. (Yech.) That maybe yawn was maybe echoed, and Jim tilted his head, half leaning on Bones' shoulder. "I haven't cooked in a while. What should we make?"

It was the afternoon heat that made him slump slightly again Jim's comfortable weight....surely not because it was comfortable, and really not because he happened to find that Jim's soap mixed with Jim's scent made for a really good smelling Jim. Not that he'd put any real thought into it, of course. "Something simple. Maybe some homemade mac n' cheese?"

Oh, of course not. "Okay. You sure you don't want anything better? I can cook. Sort of." With more practice, he'd actually be pretty good at it.

Mmm...it's been a while since he's tasted Jim's cooking. Maybe something a bit more involved. "How 'bout we stop by the market and pick up some chops?"

He got a grin for that, and Jim straightened up, stretching and rising to his feet, offering bones a hand. "Sounds good to me. Come on, you can carry the bags."

That smile was almost worth the unintentional agreement to use him as a pack animal. Besides, they wouldn't need much. Right? Taking that hand, he hauled himself to his feet, shoving his boots back on but not bothering to deal with the jacket. Instead, he jsut slung it over one shoulder...it was too warm for it, anyway. "Lead the way, Chief."

Jim grinned. Right, right. Sure. No, Jim was loading up. With secret junk food.It was as he was pulling Bones up that he realized h e wasn't wearing his shirt. "I think this is yours," he said, looking down at himself as they walked.

And each and every thing that went into that basket earned a Look or a Grump or, if it was exceptionally pointless and good tasting, an Eye roll. "I'm not carrying all this back. You're helping, too." It was a pointless grumble since they both knew that they would both carry the bags...but it was habit anymore, and the few Cadets that were meandering around the aisles only chuckled at the 'married couple'. However, at the pointing out of his shirt? He looked. Then looked again. And finally, he had to make himself -stop- looking, because, honestly, seeing Jim Kirk walking around in his sleep tee shirt was something that should never be seen by anyone other then him. Preferably at home, while Jim was away, and the lights were out. That being said, he was doing good to managed the intelligent sounding 'Uhh?" that he produced.

That had Jim grinning, and he looped an arm over Bones' shoulders, patting his upper arm. As he subtly slid in a bad of cheese doodles. "I think I grabbed the wrong one. Sorry. You can borrow one of mine?" He paused a moment, looking down again before glancing back up at Bones. "Does it look good?"

Oh no, Jim. That bag of Cheese Doodles? Slid back onto the shelf just as subtly as they were slid into the cart. He has a line. Deep fried puffs of cheese and lard are well past it. Risking another glance over, he snorted before shaking his head. "Right, because any shirt of yours would look like a overstuffed potato sack on me." Which wasn't true. Well, it was..because he was broader then Jim, so the shirt would be tighter...but honestly, it wouldn't be potatoes under it. "It looks like you're wearing my pajama shirt." Were those snickers coming from the next isleover?

The probably were, but Jim was rolling his eyes. "Oh, please. I should just start giving you my old shirts. They'll make you look muscular." Lifting an arm to peer around at himself, he arched an eyebrow. "You sleep in this?" Maybe that was why it smelled so good.

"It would take a lot more then a tight shirt to make me look muscular, Jim. And why do we have gummy bears in our basket?" Out goes the candy, and then he's glancing over at the man. "Yeah...that would be why it was on my bed. Which you had confiscated."

"Oh come on," he almost-whined, watching those gummy bears disappear. "They're good study food!" Which is why their was licorice...and chips...Oh, hey, he found the pork chops. Selecting a few, Jim waved a hand. "Your bed's more comfortable."

Kid could pick out meat, surprisingly. Nodding at his selections, he started to steer them towards the fresh produce. They were out of apples anyway. "Gummy bears are nothing more then gelled sugar and will do nothing more then rot your teeth and plug up your insides. Kinda like eating gum. You know, I had to treat a kid who had eaten a whole pack of gum once..." See that face he makes? That's the face of a man who is kinda pleased to no longer have a family clinic. Oh, hey...mushrooms. Gotta have those.

Eying the mushrooms to make sure they were the kind he liked, Jim shrugged. "Gummi bears aren't like gum..."Oh, hello apples. Why yes, Jim is grabbing a little plastic bag and stocking up. Quite a bit. "They taste good. You have no taste, Bones."

He's deffinitely going to help carry the bag now. Brat. But he's not complaining about apples. Even if their sugar content was through the roof. Instead, he selects a few good heads of broccoli to add to their meal. "They are gum, just without the extra ingredients to make it not fall apart in your mouth. Peppers or no?"

"Red ones. No wait, get some orange, too. We can make stuffed peppers some other time." He would cling to his apples if necessary. Dropping them in the cart and going to grab a few carrots, Jim glanced back at Bones, strange little smile on his lips. Weird that Bones was the only one he'd ever done this kind of thing with.

"If we're going to make stuffed peppers, then we should get some sausage to go in them." He didn't even think about it, just added on that little tidbit and went about eying the peppers before finally selecting a few that didn't look too badly treated. Moving back over to Jim, he spotted that little smile...and had to fight back every urge he had to answer it. No, dammit! Just because they were being domestic and settled with each other didn't mean...anything. It meant nothing. And he had to cling to that, because thinking anything else just opened up a whole world of hurt he wasn't willing to deal with.

"All right, I'll go grab some." He started off once he realized Bones wasn't returning his weird smile; it was replaced with his more natural, much more cocky grin, and he clapped Bones' shoulder and dropped the carrots in as he moved to get the meat for their next meal. Hm. Clearly, he wasn't trying hard enough. Though, shit like this was throwing him.

What Jim didn't see was the fact that as soon as he turned the corner back to the freezer section, Leonard stopped browsing the heads of lettuce..and instead just leaned against the rail of the cold bin. Set down the basket and everything, eyes closed for a moment to gather himself back up. Should Jim get back before he was straightened up, he blamed the unusual heat outside and shook it off like it was nothing. Of course.

Yeah. Of course. Jim came up behind Bones, maybe a little bit worried and settling a hand on the doctor's back. The meat was dumped into the basket, and then he picked it up, still looking a little concerned. "You okay?"

He straightened up quickly, flashing a grumpy frown at the man before he nodded and turned to walk over to the tomatos. "Yeah, fine. Just hot in here, that's all. Dammit, I finally get used to freezing my ass off in what's supposed to be summer and then the weather goes and does this." Wow...was he seriously talking about the weather?!?

He was. Which made Jim blink. "...Yeah, okay." Scratching the back of his head with his free hand, he hefted the basket a little higher, peering around the produce section for anything they'd missed.

Nope, that should about cover it. Everything else they had at home. Dorm. Whatever. Rubbing the back of his neck, as if to rub out some muscle ache or another, Leonard reached over to take the basket, leading the way over to the checkout line. Anything to break up this air of unease... He even paid for it all, junk food included. "You're carrying your own damn apples."

Jim snorted - he'd slip Bones some money later - and took one of the bags, swinging it slightly as he walked ahead of Bones. "I'll graciously offer my help. You have to peel the vegetables."

"Graciously, my ass. It would be your damned food left on the sidewalk if you didn't." But he had to admit...watching Jim Kirk carrying a grocery bag while wearing his tee shirt? That was doing things to his chest that he wasn't all that pleased about. Nevertheless, he tyes his jacket around his waist so that he didn't have to wear it before picking up the other bags, his shoulders finally coming in useful for something. "And I always peel the vegetables because if I didn't, we would have vegetables. You would have 'sword fought' them all to death."

"They were lookin' at me funny," Jim said, affecting a 1940s accent and trying to hide a grin. "I had ta show 'em who's boss." And it was that, or he ended up cutting up his fingers, which was not n experience he really wanted to repeat.

That was an experience neither one of them wanted to repeat, thank you very much. Smirking at the man's antics, he playfully swung a bag in his general direction. A not so small one, either. "Yeah, because those potatoes were the root of all evil, right?" Have an eye roll, Jim. With a side order of smirk.

Jim half hopped to the side as it hit his hip, grinning wolfishly at the doctor. He had to swing his bag back now, of course. "Absolutely. They needed to know their place!"

Ha! Contact! Of course, this was cut down by the bag of apples grazing his thigh. Chuckling, he shook his head and swung again, tagging himself a solid point by whacking Jim square on the ass. "Apparently, their place was in the trashcan, hidden under their own wrappings so that I wouldn't find 'em, huh? Darlin' you got an odd sense of placement." And he didn't even notice the slip of words. Not at all.

Jim noticed. After he'd jumped forward a few steps, he glanced back, eyebrows up. But he looked pleased, and gave up trying to tag Bones back by falling into step with him. "I don't know, think I've got a pretty good sense of it. Pick out anything, I'll tell you where it belongs." Such as Bones belonging with him. For instance.

"Anything?" A snort, but they fell into step easily enough and he couldn't help the little smirk on his face as he glanced over. "Alright, fine. You've earned yourself the task of putting everything away once we get home." There it was again...that word. Home. Could a dorm be called home? He didn't know. He did know that he was glad to see it, though. Those bags weren't getting any lighter.

Jim groaned at his slip up, but didn't complain other wise. They'd be making half of it, at least. "Fine, fine." It was certainly home in Jim's mind, more comfortable a home than he remembered that farm in Riverside being. Unlocking the door and stepping in, Jim held it open for Bones with his boot.

Home for one grumpy doctor, too, if he was honest with himself. It didn't have his daughter...but it had Jim. And when had that started counting for anything? He didn't know. But he also wasn't complaining. Muttering a 'thankya' as he ducked through the door, he managed to keep himself balanced enough to kick off his boots at the door without dropping anything. Only then did he cross the carpeted living room to put the bags down in their tiny kitchenette.

Jim followed suit, door closed, boots off. He dropped everything on the counter, tugging things out of bags and setting them up. "All right, so you start peeling andI'll deal withthe meat."

"Yeah, sure.." And he was suddenly leaning up behind him, reaching around the smaller man to grab the bag that held mostly what he'd been tasked to cut up. And just as quickly as he was there, he was gone, shifting over to wash his hands and grab one of the small paring knives from the block on their counter. Taking everything with him over to the table, he pulled over the trashcan and set about peeling. And while he worked? Now was as good a time as any to make sure that Jim really had been paying attention in his class. Have some rapid fire questions, again mostly from memory.

Jim sighed inwardly, mostly because it felt like Bones was avoiding what Jim had been spending all day trying to get at. But he answered. And answered. And kept answering, and he knew every fucking thing there was to know about Andorian Shingles. "Satisfied yet?" He asked, when Bones paused for breath.

A smirk was his answer. Granted, it was a -proud- smirk...but it was a smirk all the same. "I'm never satisfied, Jim. But that'll do for now. Hand me a bowl and I'll start chopping while I've got everything here..." He let the kid take that as he would. Which was probably dangerous sense Kirk was known for taking things straight to the gutter....

Beyond the damn gutter. He grinned outright, watching Bones from the corner of his eye. "Never, huh?" And everything in his tone said he planned to work on that. As soon as possible.

And for the first time since he was barely knee high to a grasshopper, Leonard H. McCoy's hand slips. Probably during the shiver that Jim's tone caused...but either way, the result was the same. A nice, deep slice into the meaty pad of his left pointer finger. For a moment, he just stared at it. And then he was cursing and covering it with a piece of plastic bag to keep from bleeding over anything else as he moves over to the sink to rinse it off.

Jim caught that, watching as he was, and tugged the water on as he reached for a few paper towels. "You okay?" He stood next to the sink, towels ready for grabbing. "Want me to grab a regenerator?"

The water was cold and for a moment it spiked everything into sharp relief. Then the cold started to take effect, and the throbbing numbness settled into place. Glancing over at his room mate and best friend, he offered a smirk. "Yeah...you should damn well know where it is, too." It wasn't bad. Didn't even hurt that much. But it was visible, bleeding proof that Jim had effected him.

Jim told himself he'd wait until Bones didn't have a knife in his hand to try that again. Grinning quickly, he disappeared and returned with the regenerator, turning it on and reaching for Bones' hand. He figured he'd been on the receiving end often enough to know how it worked.

You know, Jim, that's practicing without a license...but Leonard only blinks for a few moments before letting the blond take his hand. The device wasn't that hard to operate, after all, just hold steady and pass gently. And if his hand shook a little in Jim's? That was only because it tingled. Right?

Yeah, right. Jim held onto his hand a little tighter, keeping them both steady as he watched the small machine stitch Bones' skin back together. License schmicense. "All right?" He glanced up, grin quick and easy and always there for Bones.

Yeah. Always there. Swallowing, he nodded and pulled his hand away, shoving all of that fluttery stomach bullshit away with a firm hand and a tactful retreat to the table to find the bits that had blood on them. "Yeah..fine. Thanks. The chops should be about done marinading, right?" Denial. It runs through Georgia.

And it came to California with Bones. Jim ran a hand through his hair and nodded, grabbing the bowl they'd been sitting in and heading to the stove, putting together their little grill set up. "Yeah, I'll start 'em going." And in the mean time, plan how best to jump Bones later.

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