Hands of a Healer, Hands of a Killer : Pt.2
itle: Hands of a Healer, Hands of a Killer. Pt. 2/ ?
Author: lifeisticking
Fandom: Crossover : Star Trek: XI/Doom
Pairing: Reaper!Bones/Kirk : established relationship
Rating: PG-13 or R, I'm not sure. Tell me if I'm wrong :/
Words: 1448 or something like that. Still no beta, sorry.
Summary: Even if now he is Leonard McCoy, some things just won't stay buried where they belong.
Warnings: Crossover, Reaper!Bones, mild language, mild not-so-explicit sex.
Author's Notes: Looks like I was able to write some intimacy after all, I wasn't sure I could actually do it.
He’s woken up by Jim’s insistent yammering; «Wake up sunshine! I know you can hear me Bones». He reaches out a hand toward the offending man and pulls him flush to him «Yeah, I’m awake alright». He starts nipping, biting and sucking a trail in Jim’s neck. He likes those lazy morning (if they can be called that) when he doesn’t have an emergency... and the moans the other is making makes him like them even more. He leaves him hanging high by suddenly getting out of bed, stretching for all he’s worth and heading into the shower, smirking. He knows he’ll probably be joined in a moment, but he doesn’t mind much. It’s still early.
He starts his shift in sickbay with a half-hour late, but Chapel is pretty much used to this by now, and nobody ever comments on why he was late. Besides, she’s more than competent enough to run this place on her own; sometimes she even bosses him around... He’s still tense about going back to Mars, but he’s glad they are going to make a stop on Earth, apparently the rest of the staff is back there (after gathering several scientist and workers from a couple of space stations on the way) and so they’ll get a vacation day to place everyone aboard. When he said he has just his bones left on that shuttle, he was lying. He had his bones, his clothes on his back and a safe somewhere. When he was discharged from the RRTS, he had to give away his uniform and his rifle.
But during the blur of years between Sam’s death (god he misses her) and his entry to the University of Georgia, he worked as a bodyguard and a hit man. He changed names and allegiances frequently, but it’s not worth remembering. But he arranged to have similar gear obtained; the same model of rifle he used and same type of armor. While his current suit is almost a carbon copy of the original (it is black instead of camo), it has been enhanced over the year a little with the new technology around.
His old model rifle, which was modified to include a phaser-fire along with the regular rounds (pretty handy; energy beams when you run out of rounds), still operates with the fingerprint reader ID «Reaper». He supposes he’s a sentimentalist about his gun, old model and all...The tech who modified it wanted to give him a new one, said it was less expensive, but Reaper didn’t give a shit about cost. His gun, and that’s it. Besides, he never liked those new phaser guns anyway. Yeah so he’s old-fashioned, he likes paper books, old revamped and modified rifles, a horse farm and a good steak. Considering the last two, sometimes he thinks Georgia has rubbed off too much on him for a man who spent his childhood on a barren planet of death called Mars.
Five days later of routine and increased worrying on his part, and he’s standing on Earth. Everyone has assumed his anxiety is because he wouldn’t want to go down there for anything in the world since it used to be a biohazard, and also because he had been doing extensive reading on the subject, making a show of creating a big batch of hyposprays, «just in case there’s still a chance some of that death stuff is still hovering in the air». Some of it is true: he has been reading old reports on the Olduvai Biohazard and in the chemistry course back at the academy, it was the prime example of what not to do, apparently, but he knows it is bullshit and it angers him. It’s also true that he doesn’t want to be down there. Jim has been amused by his grumpier than usual behaviour, which earned him a raised eyebrow, a «Stop bothering me, idiot. » and he also kicked Jim out of his bed a few times, just so he could pace in peace all night.
He’s happy to have ground under his feet again, and he’s off to the storehouse. No one ever knew about it, not even Sam (who didn’t approve of his side activities), definitively not Jocelyn (why, yes, tell the ex-wife I own military gear and used to be in the RRTS, best idea ever.) or even Jim (Yes, your doctor was trained in killing people, it’s no big deal, who cares if he almost failed the combat class?). He kept his gear off the Enterprise, partly because he had no idea he’d ever need it again after he went to med school. It was still in pristine condition inside the safe house, and untouched, since it used a voice, retina scan and DNA recognition system.
Not that many people would be interested in getting old «heirloom» war gear, but still, better safe than sorry. He had a few hours before going back on the Enterprise, and spent some time cleaning, re-assembling and getting re-acquainted with his rifle and gear, he was a bit rusty after all. When re-assembling his gun, he rolled up his civilian stripped shirt’s sleeve and caught sight of his tattoo. He lightly traced it with fondness. «Reaper», marines may not have been poets, but now he was glad to have that tie back to the memories. Jocelyn had made a face when she’d seen it accidently; Jim on the other hand had thought it was wicked cool.
Both had thought it was out of character for him, and he had placated them both by explaining he had been drunk off his ass and had it when he woke up one morning with a killer headache. Jocelyn had insisted he had it removed, but he said it cost too much and he was used to it anyway. Jim thought he should add crossbones to it. The idea had appeal: Bones and Reaper united. Since he was almost always wearing long sleeves, very few people saw it, and even fewer of importance. He made efforts to cover it whenever he could, it didn’t look very professional for a doctor.
He promptly packed his bulletproof gear into a standard duffle bag and his rifle in a second bag, with a jammer to hide the weapon signature. He commed Scotty and asked him to beam his stuff directly to his quarters. He could almost see the questioning look on the engineer across the comm. system, but he bribed him with a bottle of Scotch and asked Scotty to consider this a favour; he explained it was all he had left from the divorce. Which was true alright, he couldn’t have signed over what the ex-wife didn’t know he had. And again, the Scott was so expressive; he felt the nod of sympathy. McCoy went back to the Enterprise by tram, whistling. He was glad no one saw him whistling; he’s sure he would have to deal with a couple of case of mental trauma. Leonard McCoy did not whistle. Unless he was about to jam a hypospray with vicious precision to someone he was pissed off at, oh well.
They had placed the last of the new UCD personnel onboard the Enterprise and he had some time off with Jim tonight. Diner, then chess, and probably Jim acting like a touch-starved man. He mentally counted the current chess score, and decided he would have to lose tonight, to be fair. Only against Spock did he get the whole super-mind ability out. He could also probably get the super strength out, but he wouldn’t test it out. How many humans could dent out a metal wall? Leonard McCoy wasn’t one of those.
He knew he looked well-built so he wasn’t underestimated as a scrawny know-it-all doctor. Unlike Chekov, he felt bad for the seventeen-years-old, because even with all the combat training he had gotten from the captain, he was still underestimated, despite breaking a couple of nose, which McCoy had to fix, but it was entertaining nevertheless. He decided to focus on having a good evening and night with Jim, because in a day and a half, they’d be at Mars, re-opening that twice damned complex. Later, when he was buried deep into Jim, nipping, licking and kissing a trail from his mouth, to his neck, arms tight around him even as he moved, he kept a steady stream of words coming out; «Jim...Love you...never leave okay, mine...hope you know it, love you...». When Jim arched into him and started to murmur an answer back «I know Bones...love you too...yes, yours...», he thinks it must have been one of the finest moments of his life, this tender love-making.
And I'm very happy to give you part 3 :)