Fanfic: Illegal Activites [ Part 4 / ? ] McCoy / Kirk
Title: Illegal Activities
Rating: M
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: McCoy/Kirk
Disclaimer: I own nothing! Not even the plot! I just wrote this damn thing.
Summary: Written to fill a prompt on the st_xi_kink_meme : Kirk and McCoy are assigned to a long term undercover mission while the Enterprise is at dock.The mission: find the leak in Starfleet’s intelligence department selling their secrets on the black market, rumored to be hiding on a non-federation planet. What they never expected was to slip so far into their cover that they might actually break the law… and a few unspoken rules between them.
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Part Four - First Day on the Real Job
Fuck his life. Seriously. Fuck his damn life with a spear. After another meeting with Grank to formally accept the contract, bringing Jim along this time since his “assistant” had to sign it too, and dealing with the demonic looking being staring down his best friend like he was a piece of meat, they were given a date to return on to start getting to work. Apparently, because they were such an important part of the operation now -a fact Bones called bullshit on- they were to move into the complex the same day. That meant even more surveillance, talking in codes, and… well, they had to keep this damn ruse up didn’t they? That meant they had to be affectionate and domestic and shit when they had their down time. They hadn’t even figured out which of them was the chick between the two of them!
But before any of that could possibly be an issue, they had to get through the day’s surgeries. At least, McCoy had to admit, they were in a real operating room with up-to-date equipment. It wasn’t quite as barbaric as performing those illegal surgeries in their home with the old fashioned tools. If Jim could handle that, he could handle this. Granted, he had only handled that due to several bottles of alcohol and a knock out hypo but still. He was able to get through those six months. He could handle this kind of environment. Probably. It really depended on how old the people were that were being turned into mules.
So here he was, standing in the next room, his mask already on his face as he went ahead and scrubbed his hands free of anything that could infect this next poor sap that was about to be wheeled in by the male nurses the “boss” employed. Jim was standing next to him, dressed in the same blue scrubs Leonard was wearing, looking strangely at home in them as he focused on cleaning his hands too. The mask was already over his face also so when he spoke it sounded somewhat muffled but understandable. “So, if we’re down here all day, how are we supposed to find him?” It was a fun trick to turn off the faucet with their elbows and Bones had the added fun of deciphering what the hell Jim was talking about. Oh yeah…
“We get breaks,” he said in answer, slipping his gloves on expertly and turning to watch Jim struggle a bit, “and it’s not like we do this every day. We get some time to ourselves to do what we want.” The patient’s status was read off to them. It was Greek to Jim but plain English to McCoy. It wasn’t exactly too complicated to a real medical expert. “Let’s focus on this poor sap for now though.”
Taking his seat next to the human body and the tray of instruments at his side, McCoy looked over the stuff in the tissue sack he was supposed to insert into this poor kid and started wondering to himself if there was indeed a purpose to all this shit he was being put through. Human beings were not made to carry shit like this. Yet the “boss” had wanted it and since they needed to do what the guy said to get into the circles they needed to in order to get the fuck off this planet already. He was definitely not going to take basic surgeries for granted again after this. “This time it looks like some Klingon Horse Grass,” he said, turning his attention back to the body and looking it over to figure out the best way to approach this. “Safest place to put it is… amongst the fat on the stomach.” And boy did this guy have plenty. “Okay then. Scalpel.”
Almost the minute his hand opened completely, Kirk handed him the instrument he needed and the two of them began working, slowly but surely, making sure to get the small tissue bag, made from cloning the man’s own internal tissues in that area, in just the right place as to avoid suspicion. Unless they pulled a full MRI on him when he walked through the detectors, they wouldn’t notice a thing. Once they were sure it was pretty firm in there without actually causing too much trouble, they sewed the guy back up and passed a dermal generator over their light stitches, closing enough that one more round should make the scar disappear completely. Operation done, McCoy stepped away from the table while Jim hit the button with his elbow to call in the nurses to fetch him.
The pair walked over to their prep room, tossing the gloves with care before removing their masks. McCoy checked his schedule. They had another patient due to come in in half an hour. They could chat for a bit. He turned and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest while he yawned, not expecting Jim to nudge him a bit when he took up the exact same position right next to him in a rather affectionate way. Now they were so close they didn’t have to worry about being overheard while the interns cleaned the OR of the blood and fat that had been extracted to make room for the tissue bag. “You got any idea what this guy we’re after looks like or got any idea how the hell we’re supposed to find him?” Jim’s tone was more than a little annoyed and with good reason. Even McCoy had to admit he wanted desperately to go home too.
McCoy sighed and leaned his head back as if stretching his neck while he thought before resting his forehead against Jim’s temple. It startled the blond but he went with it. “The guy we’re looking for ain’t a retard. He won’t have the data and files in a bag or something he could possibly lose or get caught with. The best I recon, he’s gonna be one of these mules we’re packin’ and unpackin’, especially if he works for Grank here.” He leaned back and looked the man in the eye. “We just gotta work here until we find him or until ‘Fleet comes by because they nabbed the bugger.”
There was a miserable sigh from Jim and Bones couldn’t agree more with it as he got up from where he was to check to make sure his OR was clean enough for the next operation. However, before he got there, someone walked into the prep area, telling the both of them that they were wanted in the recovery room where the first patient was. McCoy rolled his eyes. It was probably the boss man who wanted to comment on their work. He had an answer ready for the small scar that was forming on the big guy’s stomach. “Come along if you want Jim,” he said and turned on his heel, not really looking back to care as he headed out of the prep room and towards the recovery room. He left his surgeon’s cap on because it was a bitch to retie but kept the mask hanging around his neck.
Sure enough, in the recovery room, Grank was there with his group of men, surrounding the still sleeping patient. The doctor fought the urge to shiver when those creepy looking eyes looked him over with desire creeping in their depths. He was a black market surgeon, supposedly. He was tougher than this. “What can I do for you?” he asked sharply, annoyed with having being dragged out of his OR. “I have another patient I have to see to in twenty minutes.” Or so. Whatever.
Grank seemed to find his attitude amusing and stepped closer. Neither noticed the door opening behind the doctor as Jim slipped inside. “Oh surely it can wait a little while longer,” the creepy alien thing said, his claws scratching along the scrubs as they swept up slowly to play with the short hairs on the doctor’s neck, “I want to reward you for a job well done. The scar left behind is so minimal it won’t attract attention but let his receiver know where to dig for the goods.” McCoy felt that clawed hand try to pull him down into what would no doubt be a disgusting kiss but then it was wrenched away and replaced with a softer, warmer hand. He tensed at this kiss too until he realized it was Jim then forced himself to relax. They were supposed to be lovers. They had to pretend a kiss was nothing.
When they separated that mild desire from earlier in the alien’s eye had become much stronger and even a few of the guards seemed hot and bothered by it. It wasn’t even that deep a kiss. Thank god. He really didn’t want to have to worry about that kind of kissing just yet.
Jim, however, seemed to pull out of his revere first, and with all the smoothness he could muster said, “Look, Mister TaMor, I understand, I really do, but you have gotta remember to keep your hands to yourself if you want us to work here for ya.” The hand on Bones’ neck slipped along his back to wrap possessively around his waist and while McCoy didn’t visibly protest, he tensed. He wasn’t used to being the possessed but rather to possessor. Still, for now, he’d roll with it. “We may be kinky bastards but the one thing we aren’t big on is sharing. Right Bones?”
The squeeze of his waist was a subtle clue to get him to agree. “That’s right.” He kept his arms crossed over his chest, wanting to seem stronger and obviously a little more confident than he actually was. “It’s an old custom of mine and Jim, so far, has been pretty good at stickin’ to it.” A protest of “hey!” was ignored. “So I’d appreciate it if you’d quit with the grabbing. I belong to Jim as much as Jim belongs to me and that’s final.”
It was a shame their boss hardly seemed deterred by their little announcement. In fact, if the way his very odd looking tongue ran over what was supposed to be his lips. It was fuckin’ creepy looking, though he did keep his claws to himself this time. That much was good. Judging from the grip around his waist, Jim seemed to think so too. Good thing to know they were in the same boat this time.
“Well, doctor, I am glad to see that you will be earning your own reward of sorts tonight.” Judging form that look the kind of reward he was talking about was abundantly clear. “I also wanted you here to tell you that your things have been moved into your rooms already.” He opened his hand and one of his lackeys handed him a key card. “This is to your room. Third floor, room 314.” McCoy opened his hand for it and wasn’t too surprised when the claws scratched his palm lightly when the card was dropped into it. Not for the first time he wondered what the females of that species looked like. They had to be one ugly group of people. “Good work.”
Taking those words as a sign of their dismissal, the two men turned to head back to their prep room, neither breaking the hold they had taken up in the room until they got to the area and almost immediately both felt a whoosh of air left them. Jim didn’t look quite ready to be sick but he did look disgusted. McCoy could hardly blame him. “How the hell did you manage to withstand that?” he asked disbelievingly, “I mean, he didn’t even touch me and I felt violated.”
“Yeah well, it’s ten times worse when he actually does.” Bones put the key card away into his lab coat pocket. “And you know the sick fuck is going to be watching our rooms tonight. Here I was thinking this job couldn’t get any worse.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he and Jim calmed down as best they could.
Jim shifted and there the sound of a faucet running. Right. They had that second operation to do. What was it they were supposed to insert this time? He couldn’t remember. He’d have to take a look before he started with his hands. “Does that mean that tonight, we’ll have to… you know…” Bones turned at the sound of the nervousness in that voice. It sounded odd coming from his usually confident best bud. “… have to have sex tonight? To keep up the façade?”
A dark eyebrow quirked at this. “I know you haven’t fucked around in forever in your time period but you can’t tell me that I’m so fuckin’ ugly it’d never work even with you as blue balled as you are by now.” He turned back to his files, finding this patient. Another drug carrier. This time is was crack cocaine. Why the hell was this stuff still on the market?
“T-That’s not it and you know it Bones!” Kirk snapped, his hands slamming against the metal of the sink and making him curse and start washing them again, “You ain’t ugly but you’re a guy! You know I’m a ladies man. The mechanics aren’t the same!”
McCoy sighed and came up behind his friend, adjusting the surgical mask into place before running a hand gently over the other’s tense as hell spine. “Don’t worry about it Jim. I’ll find a way to make it work for us.” He’d have to or else risk everything falling apart. Fuck Starfleet Intelligence, Grank and this entire mission with a goddamn cattle prod. Why couldn’t he be at home, spending what time he had left before this next five year mission with his daughter in the old McCoy family home? Because some fuckin’ bureaucrat had pretty much demanded that he be out here, in the middle of nowhere, on a non-Federation planet, working for a criminal who stuffed highly illegal substances in the bellies of humanoids and hoped they survived going back and forth along this stupid chain of surgeries.
Putting his own mask back into place, Leonard went to his own sink and started washing his hands, thinking of what it was he was going to have to do tonight in order to get their little show to go off without a hitch. He was the one with knowledge of human anatomy. He knew there were ways to ensure they were both able to get off. But they were playing as long term lovers who had kinks up the Wahoo and that meant it had to be more than just the intro shit that most first time lovers would get through. He cursed under his breath again. It was all Jim’s fault. It always was. The kid just attracted trouble.
He stepped away from the skin and got his gloves on just as Jim did the same thing and the pair walked into the operating room where the patient lay, waiting. This one was a slightly less heavy man but heavy none the less. It would be easy to hide this tissue bag amongst his fat. McCoy sighed and took his seat again as Kirk positioned himself like earlier. Okay then. Time to get back to work. “Scalpel…”
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Part Three - Working the Angles
Part Five - Livin’ Up the Lie