I Went to a Garden Party (Kirk/McCoy) PG-13
Title: I Went to a Garden Party
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: A snarky Bones that likes to swear
Characters/Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Beta: Now beta'ed by the lovely
ellie_pierson
Disclaimer: Star Trek and all these wonderful characters are owned by Paramount, CBS, Gene Roddenberry, JJ Abrams and a host of others. I make no money or profit when I play with them like this, and hopefully, they had a good time while I did. (Well, maybe not Bones.)
Summary: Bones went to the damn garden party, but he ain't singing no happy song about it. Besides, who the hell "orders" someone to be nice?
A/N: This was inspired by these lovely pictures for "The Daily Captain and Doctor" at
jim_and_bones. (Must be a member and over 18 to view) Title for this comes from the song Garden Party by Ricky Nelson.
I Went to a Garden Party
Quietly opening the door, Leonard slipped into a small office in Admiral Fitzgerald’s house, breathing a sigh of relief at the snick heralding its close behind him. The office, if he figured correctly, was at the other side of the house, well away from the part of the gardens where the party was still being held. It still overlooked the gardens from what he could see out of the open French doors on the other side of the room, but from the muffled party sounds being carried by the soft ocean breeze, stirring the translucent curtains around the door, it sounded like he would be safe holding up here, until he could make his escape or Jim showed up - whichever came first.
And since he had been stuck here, socializing with the numerous dignitaries, Fleet officials and their various spouses and partners for what seemed like fucking years, he’d bet on the first one happening before the second.
Yes, he snarked at the little Jim voice in his head, he socialized. Maybe not to the extent Jim would have done if he had fucking been here, but well enough to keep from being boxed in his ears and told by his mother that wasn’t how she had raised him - if she had been here.
But nobody was here. Not Jim, not his mama, nor any of the other Enterprise crew. Just fucking him. He rolled his eyes at the thought. Lucky him.
Leonard moved away from the door, walking over to the sofa tucked into the corner behind the door, and threw his jacket over the arm. From this position, only someone coming from the side of the house well away from the party could see him standing there. Hopefully, he’d be able to hide if someone came looking for him, either from inside or outside the house.
He had been here too many goddamn hours, sent ahead because Jim had been called back to Starfleet Headquarters because some candy-assed admiral - who needed his own damn butt wiped for him - insisted that his committee needed another fucking face-to-face report from Jim about the latest incursion by the Klingons in Federation space.
As if the first two times and the written reports hadn’t told them every goddamn thing that had happened. Maybe he should have left a fucking scar or two from Jim’s injuries so they could see the evidence.
Meanwhile, that meant Leonard had to attend Mrs. Fitzgerald’s garden part by himself, having to make nice with the powers-that-be. Hell, ordered to make nice - who in the fucking hell orders someone to be nice - while he waited for Jim to make an appearance.
They had been woken up that morning by the chime at their planet side quarters where they stayed when the Enterprise was called back to Earth for an extended period of time. Leonard had sleepily walked to the door, and had he been a modicum more awake, he’d have asked the computer to identify who was there before opening the damn thing. Instead, he got two PADDs shoved at him by two different yeomen, one ordering Jim to Starfleet Headquarters, and the other one ordering the two of them to attend Admiral and Mrs. Fitzgerald’s garden party. Both events were scheduled - oh fucking joy - at the same time. Leonard could almost hear Pike’s glee when he read his particular orders about the party.
It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to act at these events. He was a Southerner, for God’s sake. He cut his teeth on garden parties, cotillions and a host of other social events that Southern mothers like to torture their sons with. He knew how to behave at these stupid fucking things. He didn’t need goddamn Pike ordering him to.
Leonard sighed, the noise sounding loud in the quiet room. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend the little free time he and Jim had here. Joanna was off with her mother, plans that had been finalized months ago, so it was suppose to be just Jim and him. After their last engagement with the Klingons, all he wanted to do was spend some time alone with Jim somewhere quiet, where they could wake up with the sunshine streaming through their windows and no yeomen appearing at their door.
He just wanted time to run his hands over Jim, tracing the places where Leonard had fixed him, reassuring himself that he had pulled Jim from the brink once again. Was that too fucking much to ask?
Obviously it was, because he spent the last two fucking hours led around the garden, being introduced as the man who had snuck Captain Kirk onto the Enterprise - like he wasn’t an accomplished CMO in his own right - and having to shake hands and kiss cheeks, never getting a moment to even have a goddamn drink.
Which was why he was now held up in this small room, well away from the party crowd, sipping away at a very large glass of bourbon. One good thing he had to say about the Fitzgeralds: they knew their liquor.
Raising his glass, waving it side-to-side, he gave a silent toast to his hosts - wherever they might be - and brought the drink to his lips as he glanced over to the French doors. There stood Jim in jeans with a dark blue jacket, sweater vest and his damn ever-present white t-shirt. He had a look on his face so open and unguarded it took Leonard’s breath away.
Jim must have rushed straight over here from his meeting, barely taking time to change into his street clothes from the looks of the collar on his jacket. God, he was a sight for sore eyes, and Leonard drank in the vision of him, feeling some of the frustration of the day not assuaged by the alcohol in his hand finally leaving him. The blue of the jacket was making the color of Jim’s eyes even more brilliant than normal, and he watched a twinkle start to form in them as the corner of Jim’s mouth started to quirk.
“So, Bones, how many curse words were you saying to yourself a moment ago?” Jim asked as he stepped over the sill of the door to walk over to where Leonard was standing. “Am I going to be getting any nasty reports from Admiral Fitzgerald, telling me that my CMO doesn’t play well with others?”
Raising his eyebrow slightly, Leonard smacked Jim on the arm before setting his glass down on the table by their side, freeing up his hands to slide over Jim’s hips so that he could pull him closer. “That was just that one time,” he growled before placing a needed kiss on his lover’s lips. Leonard heard Jim’s happy moan as he felt Jim’s body relax as they slowly explored each other’s lips, the tension in both of them starting to ease. The soft sound of lips parting floated in the air between them, before it was chased away by Jim’s quiet sigh.
“And I wouldn’t talk if I were you, Jim.” Leonard watched as Jim’s eyes lost that faraway look, finally focusing back on his face, as Leonard went back to Jim’s previous comment. “Who’s the one that looks like they need their mother to help them dress?” Leonard pulled his hand away from Jim’s hip and flicked the left collar on the jacket. “What? Were you having a hard time deciding whether it was fashionable to wear the collar up or down, so you decided to do one of each?”
Jim looked pointed at Leonard’s open collar. “I don’t think the guy who has a hard time buttoning up buttons should really talk.” Jim stared at his throat exposed by his open collar, and his tongue licked across his bottom lip like it did whenever Jim was nervous or turned on. Leonard’s heart started to pound, pushing his blood to places south of its location. His groin twitched at the wicked look in Jim’s eyes when he met Leonard’s stare. “Maybe we need to go practice helping each other dress. Of course, that means we’ll have to undress first.”
Leonard used his free hand to pull Jim’s head to his, smashing their lips together as he ravaged Jim’s mouth. “Fuck yeah,” he said against Jim’s lips as they finally pulled away.
“Let’s go,” Jim said, breaking away to scoop up Leonard’s jacket from the sofa.
“Wait.” Leonard closed his eyes in a grimace as a thought went through his blood-deprived brain. Opening his eyes, he took in Jim’s curious expression. “I can’t believe I am asking this, but have you gone out there yet?” Leonard jerked his head towards the distant sounds of the garden party.
“Nah, I was walking by here and saw you just standing there - hiding,” Jim said, emphasizing the last word with a twinkle in his eye, “so, I stopped.”
“Don’t you have to go and socialize?” He really did hate to have to ask it, but both of them had been strongly urged - hell, ordered - by Pike to attend the party, who pointed out they had “conveniently” gotten out of that particular duty on their previous leaves on Earth.
“Did you really make nice with the natives?” Jim asked as he folded Leonard’s jacket over his arm.
Leonard glared at his friend and lover. “Yes,” he answered, his irritation stretching the word out. “I shook every damn hand that was there, listen to every blow-hard go on about Starfleet politics when they knew fucking diddley shit about them, put up with having my face kissed dozens of times and having to tell every goddamn woman in there where that cute captain of mine was, and had my ass pinched by that old biddy, Mrs. Henley.” He drew a deep breath before finishing, “Yes, I fucking played nice.”
Jim’s eyes lit up with amusement before he replied, “It sounds like you covered all the bases, Bones. No one else knows I’m here. We can sneak out and say that my meeting went longer than we thought and pretend I wasn’t here. Hell, we can say that you got called to Starfleet Medical. As long as Pike knows one of us schmoozed with the guests, he won’t throw us in the Brig.”
Leonard cheered inside, but still felt compelled to ask, “What about thanking the Fitzgeralds before I take my leave?” Jim smirked at Leonard’s choice of words, and he smacked him again. “Hey, my mama raised me right.”
Jim’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Well, with all due respect to Eleanora, we can send them a nice fruit basket tomorrow with our apologies.” He tugged on Leonard’s hand, clasping it tightly in his. “We can even pick out the fruit ourselves when we get to Costa Rica. I hear the tropical fruit there is fantastic.”
“Jim,” Leonard cried out in surprise at the thought of finally going somewhere alone with Jim.
“Just think, Bones. A secluded resort right in the rain forest. Our own private bungalow with forcefields on the windows and doors to keep out the native wildlife…and any noisy reporters,” Jim said teasingly, but Leonard could see how Jim needed the time away as much as he did.
“Do those forcefields keep out yeomen and fucking admirals?” Leonard asked as he and Jim turned back towards the French doors, finally taking leave of the place.
Jim smiled as he stepped back into the garden and pulled Leonard down the path towards the side of the house. “Yeah, and any blow-hards and biddies, too.” As they turned the corner of the house, Leonard felt Jim’s hand slide over the back of his trousers and gently squeeze him. “But, I can’t promise they can keep your ass from being pinched a time or two.”
Leonard smiled to himself. He could live with that.
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: A snarky Bones that likes to swear
Characters/Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Beta: Now beta'ed by the lovely
ellie_pierson
Disclaimer: Star Trek and all these wonderful characters are owned by Paramount, CBS, Gene Roddenberry, JJ Abrams and a host of others. I make no money or profit when I play with them like this, and hopefully, they had a good time while I did. (Well, maybe not Bones.)
Summary: Bones went to the damn garden party, but he ain't singing no happy song about it. Besides, who the hell "orders" someone to be nice?
A/N: This was inspired by these lovely pictures for "The Daily Captain and Doctor" at
jim_and_bones. (Must be a member and over 18 to view) Title for this comes from the song Garden Party by Ricky Nelson.
I Went to a Garden Party
Quietly opening the door, Leonard slipped into a small office in Admiral Fitzgerald’s house, breathing a sigh of relief at the snick heralding its close behind him. The office, if he figured correctly, was at the other side of the house, well away from the part of the gardens where the party was still being held. It still overlooked the gardens from what he could see out of the open French doors on the other side of the room, but from the muffled party sounds being carried by the soft ocean breeze, stirring the translucent curtains around the door, it sounded like he would be safe holding up here, until he could make his escape or Jim showed up - whichever came first.
And since he had been stuck here, socializing with the numerous dignitaries, Fleet officials and their various spouses and partners for what seemed like fucking years, he’d bet on the first one happening before the second.
Yes, he snarked at the little Jim voice in his head, he socialized. Maybe not to the extent Jim would have done if he had fucking been here, but well enough to keep from being boxed in his ears and told by his mother that wasn’t how she had raised him - if she had been here.
But nobody was here. Not Jim, not his mama, nor any of the other Enterprise crew. Just fucking him. He rolled his eyes at the thought. Lucky him.
Leonard moved away from the door, walking over to the sofa tucked into the corner behind the door, and threw his jacket over the arm. From this position, only someone coming from the side of the house well away from the party could see him standing there. Hopefully, he’d be able to hide if someone came looking for him, either from inside or outside the house.
He had been here too many goddamn hours, sent ahead because Jim had been called back to Starfleet Headquarters because some candy-assed admiral - who needed his own damn butt wiped for him - insisted that his committee needed another fucking face-to-face report from Jim about the latest incursion by the Klingons in Federation space.
As if the first two times and the written reports hadn’t told them every goddamn thing that had happened. Maybe he should have left a fucking scar or two from Jim’s injuries so they could see the evidence.
Meanwhile, that meant Leonard had to attend Mrs. Fitzgerald’s garden part by himself, having to make nice with the powers-that-be. Hell, ordered to make nice - who in the fucking hell orders someone to be nice - while he waited for Jim to make an appearance.
They had been woken up that morning by the chime at their planet side quarters where they stayed when the Enterprise was called back to Earth for an extended period of time. Leonard had sleepily walked to the door, and had he been a modicum more awake, he’d have asked the computer to identify who was there before opening the damn thing. Instead, he got two PADDs shoved at him by two different yeomen, one ordering Jim to Starfleet Headquarters, and the other one ordering the two of them to attend Admiral and Mrs. Fitzgerald’s garden party. Both events were scheduled - oh fucking joy - at the same time. Leonard could almost hear Pike’s glee when he read his particular orders about the party.
It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to act at these events. He was a Southerner, for God’s sake. He cut his teeth on garden parties, cotillions and a host of other social events that Southern mothers like to torture their sons with. He knew how to behave at these stupid fucking things. He didn’t need goddamn Pike ordering him to.
Leonard sighed, the noise sounding loud in the quiet room. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend the little free time he and Jim had here. Joanna was off with her mother, plans that had been finalized months ago, so it was suppose to be just Jim and him. After their last engagement with the Klingons, all he wanted to do was spend some time alone with Jim somewhere quiet, where they could wake up with the sunshine streaming through their windows and no yeomen appearing at their door.
He just wanted time to run his hands over Jim, tracing the places where Leonard had fixed him, reassuring himself that he had pulled Jim from the brink once again. Was that too fucking much to ask?
Obviously it was, because he spent the last two fucking hours led around the garden, being introduced as the man who had snuck Captain Kirk onto the Enterprise - like he wasn’t an accomplished CMO in his own right - and having to shake hands and kiss cheeks, never getting a moment to even have a goddamn drink.
Which was why he was now held up in this small room, well away from the party crowd, sipping away at a very large glass of bourbon. One good thing he had to say about the Fitzgeralds: they knew their liquor.
Raising his glass, waving it side-to-side, he gave a silent toast to his hosts - wherever they might be - and brought the drink to his lips as he glanced over to the French doors. There stood Jim in jeans with a dark blue jacket, sweater vest and his damn ever-present white t-shirt. He had a look on his face so open and unguarded it took Leonard’s breath away.
Jim must have rushed straight over here from his meeting, barely taking time to change into his street clothes from the looks of the collar on his jacket. God, he was a sight for sore eyes, and Leonard drank in the vision of him, feeling some of the frustration of the day not assuaged by the alcohol in his hand finally leaving him. The blue of the jacket was making the color of Jim’s eyes even more brilliant than normal, and he watched a twinkle start to form in them as the corner of Jim’s mouth started to quirk.
“So, Bones, how many curse words were you saying to yourself a moment ago?” Jim asked as he stepped over the sill of the door to walk over to where Leonard was standing. “Am I going to be getting any nasty reports from Admiral Fitzgerald, telling me that my CMO doesn’t play well with others?”
Raising his eyebrow slightly, Leonard smacked Jim on the arm before setting his glass down on the table by their side, freeing up his hands to slide over Jim’s hips so that he could pull him closer. “That was just that one time,” he growled before placing a needed kiss on his lover’s lips. Leonard heard Jim’s happy moan as he felt Jim’s body relax as they slowly explored each other’s lips, the tension in both of them starting to ease. The soft sound of lips parting floated in the air between them, before it was chased away by Jim’s quiet sigh.
“And I wouldn’t talk if I were you, Jim.” Leonard watched as Jim’s eyes lost that faraway look, finally focusing back on his face, as Leonard went back to Jim’s previous comment. “Who’s the one that looks like they need their mother to help them dress?” Leonard pulled his hand away from Jim’s hip and flicked the left collar on the jacket. “What? Were you having a hard time deciding whether it was fashionable to wear the collar up or down, so you decided to do one of each?”
Jim looked pointed at Leonard’s open collar. “I don’t think the guy who has a hard time buttoning up buttons should really talk.” Jim stared at his throat exposed by his open collar, and his tongue licked across his bottom lip like it did whenever Jim was nervous or turned on. Leonard’s heart started to pound, pushing his blood to places south of its location. His groin twitched at the wicked look in Jim’s eyes when he met Leonard’s stare. “Maybe we need to go practice helping each other dress. Of course, that means we’ll have to undress first.”
Leonard used his free hand to pull Jim’s head to his, smashing their lips together as he ravaged Jim’s mouth. “Fuck yeah,” he said against Jim’s lips as they finally pulled away.
“Let’s go,” Jim said, breaking away to scoop up Leonard’s jacket from the sofa.
“Wait.” Leonard closed his eyes in a grimace as a thought went through his blood-deprived brain. Opening his eyes, he took in Jim’s curious expression. “I can’t believe I am asking this, but have you gone out there yet?” Leonard jerked his head towards the distant sounds of the garden party.
“Nah, I was walking by here and saw you just standing there - hiding,” Jim said, emphasizing the last word with a twinkle in his eye, “so, I stopped.”
“Don’t you have to go and socialize?” He really did hate to have to ask it, but both of them had been strongly urged - hell, ordered - by Pike to attend the party, who pointed out they had “conveniently” gotten out of that particular duty on their previous leaves on Earth.
“Did you really make nice with the natives?” Jim asked as he folded Leonard’s jacket over his arm.
Leonard glared at his friend and lover. “Yes,” he answered, his irritation stretching the word out. “I shook every damn hand that was there, listen to every blow-hard go on about Starfleet politics when they knew fucking diddley shit about them, put up with having my face kissed dozens of times and having to tell every goddamn woman in there where that cute captain of mine was, and had my ass pinched by that old biddy, Mrs. Henley.” He drew a deep breath before finishing, “Yes, I fucking played nice.”
Jim’s eyes lit up with amusement before he replied, “It sounds like you covered all the bases, Bones. No one else knows I’m here. We can sneak out and say that my meeting went longer than we thought and pretend I wasn’t here. Hell, we can say that you got called to Starfleet Medical. As long as Pike knows one of us schmoozed with the guests, he won’t throw us in the Brig.”
Leonard cheered inside, but still felt compelled to ask, “What about thanking the Fitzgeralds before I take my leave?” Jim smirked at Leonard’s choice of words, and he smacked him again. “Hey, my mama raised me right.”
Jim’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Well, with all due respect to Eleanora, we can send them a nice fruit basket tomorrow with our apologies.” He tugged on Leonard’s hand, clasping it tightly in his. “We can even pick out the fruit ourselves when we get to Costa Rica. I hear the tropical fruit there is fantastic.”
“Jim,” Leonard cried out in surprise at the thought of finally going somewhere alone with Jim.
“Just think, Bones. A secluded resort right in the rain forest. Our own private bungalow with forcefields on the windows and doors to keep out the native wildlife…and any noisy reporters,” Jim said teasingly, but Leonard could see how Jim needed the time away as much as he did.
“Do those forcefields keep out yeomen and fucking admirals?” Leonard asked as he and Jim turned back towards the French doors, finally taking leave of the place.
Jim smiled as he stepped back into the garden and pulled Leonard down the path towards the side of the house. “Yeah, and any blow-hards and biddies, too.” As they turned the corner of the house, Leonard felt Jim’s hand slide over the back of his trousers and gently squeeze him. “But, I can’t promise they can keep your ass from being pinched a time or two.”
Leonard smiled to himself. He could live with that.