Getting There (Kirk/McCoy, PG)
A little something for the ever-encouraging and uplifting weepingnaiad on her birthday.
Jocelyn always maintained that there was no such thing as a bad party. Leonard now knows from bitter experience that this isn’t the case. This particular party is that deadliest of diplomatic events, a reception--less food than at a dinner, less business than at a meeting, and as much standing as at a ceremony without the fun of guns or music.
Leonard accepts a glass of something pale and cold from a tray (he’s left the alluring plates of snacky things alone since the time some presumptive calamari turned out to be deep-fried Andorian bear spiders). He raises the glass in silent toast to Jim: You were supposed to be here half an hour ago; may you have a damned good excuse, or else.
Leonard’s saved from terminal awkwardness by the appearance of Admirals Boyce, Pike, and Subramanya. At any ordinary event, the sight of so many pips and medals--even on the chests of old friends--would be enough to give Leonard agitata, but Leonard is heartily grateful to see them.
“Enjoying yourself, McCoy?” Pike asks with a knowing smile as they exchange handshakes all around. He’s got more gray hair than the last time Leonard saw him, but is handsomer and more self-assured nearing 60 than Leonard ever hopes to be. “Where’s your mouthier half?”
“In some godforsaken committee meeting,” Leonard says. "Sir."
"Appropriations? But that let out hours ago." Admiral Subramanya has a way of registering disapproval that makes Leonard feel like an eight-year-old late for his piano lessons. "President Van ko Liir specifically asked to meet him." Subramanya's arched eyebrow indicates this she considers this an unwelcome but not unexpected request.
It's been this way ever since they landed Earthside. Since winning the Battle of N'Veda against a much stronger Klingon force, Jim's been a more popular tourist attraction than the cable cars and shuttled around about as much. Starfleet may not fully trust Jim yet, but they're more than willing to use the nimbus of his fame to light up dark places. The fact that officialdom has eaten up two-thirds of their shore leave seems to bother no one but Leonard himself.
"I'm sure he'll be here, sir," Leonard says, unable to guarantee any such thing.
"You two getting any time off?" Boyce, Pike's partner, is equally keen-eyed and prone to mind reading, but seems to regard his and Jim's relationship with a kind of proprietary kindness.
"We have a cottage booked in Fiji. We were supposed to be there yesterday, but--"
"Duty calls," Boyce finishes. "Story of our lives, yes?" The admirals all chuckle and knock back sizable gulps of their drinks. Leonard supposes that one day he'll be as philosophical when it comes to bureaucratic idiocy; he's quite sure Jim never will.
There's a ripple of chatter and heads turning. Leonard glances toward the entrance of the reception hall and sees Jim. He's immaculate and, to Leonard's eyes, irresistible in his dress grays (which fortunately are resistant to wrinkles), but there's something…else. His smile is a little too brilliant, his eyes a little too sparkling, and he's got that expression on his face that says Show it to me, and whatever it is, I'll fight it, fuck it or fix it.
There's no doubt about it: Jim is lit up like a Christmas tree. Leonard feels his heart sink into his shoes and glares at Pike in a way that he hopes says You know the stress he's under; you wore him out. Now do something, goddamn it! Even in his mind, Leonard adds the sir.
But Pike does nothing, just exchanges a glance with Boyce, grabs another drink off a tray, and settles back to enjoy the show.
Leonard follows Jim's progress around the room like he's watching a slo-mo shuttle crash. Jim's beaming charisma draws every eye, and so every eye sees him clap the Vulcan ambassador on the back, whisper something in Admiral Gautang's ear that makes him turn a darker shade of blue, and suck the meat out of a crustacean shell in a manner that should be forbidden around children under 16.
"What's gotten into Kirk tonight?" Subramanya demands. "Whatever it is, it looks like it's about a liter too much. The Chief Protocol Officer might be needing your services soon, Doctor."
"Good God," Leonard whispers, "I've got to stop him." But his legs have gone numb with apprehension at the sight of Jim approaching a Tellarite dignitary in a low-cut tunic.
"I wouldn't worry," Boyce says quietly, putting a hand on his arm. "You know what Chris always says? 'They may not approve of the methods, but they always appreciate the result.'"
Jim's path of near-destruction finally brings him around to their side of the room. He arrives in a cloud of champagne fumes and bonhomie and kisses Admiral Subramanya's hand before draping his arms around Pike and Boyce.
"Did you stay at Appropriations long enough to see Ferelli's revised numbers for the Nebula class redesign?" Pike asks, unperturbed.
"Yeeeah, and they were awesome. Everything is awesome. Bones! " he says suddenly, as if he'd just noticed Leonard standing there. "Shit, you look fantastic. Twice as good as you looked this morning. God, why didn't I jump you then? Never mind, plenty of time for that."
He slides off Pike and Boyce's shoulders and lurches toward Leonard. There's a terrible moment when Leonard sees Jim's florid face coming toward him, and then his secondhand embarrassment turns to firsthand as Jim kisses him, on the lips, in the middle of the Cochrane Memorial Hall.
Before Leonard can detach himself, the Chief Protocol Officer bustles up.
"Captain Kirk?"
"Yes?" Jim manages to sound normal, even though he's still wrapped around Leonard like an anaconda.
"There've been--erm." She stutters, not sounding very diplomatic. "Changes in plans. The President of Al-Daraba may not be arriving for another hour. And as we've already taken up enough of your time this visit--"
"Oh, no. Nononono," Jim says, waving a finger at her like he's conducing an orchestra. "I insist. The President wants to meet me, so I'm staying right here. Wouldn't want to let her down. In fact, I have a story that I think she'd like to hear--" From Jim's chuckle, Leonard can tell what kind of story it is, and the Chief Protocol Officer probably can, too.
"That's very kind of you, Captain, but--" the diplomat, looking a bit desperate, catches someone's eye across the room. "But the Diplomatic Corps feels that we've taken up far too much of your valuable time during your very short leave. In fact, we--we're going to cancel our request that you appear at the five remaining events."
"Cancel? Really? Isn't that a shame." Leonard feels Jim's hand moving down his back and sincerely hopes it stops when it reaches his belt. "But I'm sure the Admiralty will be able to use all that free time."
"On the contrary." To Leonard's surprise, it's Admiral Subramanya speaking. "If the Diplomatic Corps feels so strongly about respecting your time off, I'm sure the least we can do is the same. For one of our own."
"Splendid," says the Chief Protocol Officer. "Enjoy your leave, Captain, wherever it is. I'm assuming it's not in San Francisco?"
"Nah," Kirk drawls. "Far away. Real far."
The Officer gives a sigh of relief. "Very good," she says, and hurries away.
Leonard waits for the three admirals to come down on Jim like a ton of bricks. Instead, all that happens is that Jim pats Leonard's ass--once--before Leonard swats his hand away. He meets Jim's eyes, intending to glare, and then he sees it.
"You son of a bitch, you're not drunk at all, are you?"
"I'm mostly not drunk," Jim says, keeping his hand on Leonard's back but north of the border. "I did have a shot of Jack on the way over, just to get in character."
"Then why on Earth--"
"Say what you will about Jim, you have to agree he has his priorities straight," Pike says, raising a glass in their direction. "You’re going to love the beaches in Fiji, boys. Crystal clear water.”
“Best enjoyed naked, of course.” Subramanya says. There’s a long pause.
“Well, you know what we always say,” Boyce says. “‘It’s not the journey but the destination.’”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Jim’s wandering hand has finally come to rest on Leonard’s hip. “The journey’s not so bad, either.”
Jocelyn always maintained that there was no such thing as a bad party. Leonard now knows from bitter experience that this isn’t the case. This particular party is that deadliest of diplomatic events, a reception--less food than at a dinner, less business than at a meeting, and as much standing as at a ceremony without the fun of guns or music.
Leonard accepts a glass of something pale and cold from a tray (he’s left the alluring plates of snacky things alone since the time some presumptive calamari turned out to be deep-fried Andorian bear spiders). He raises the glass in silent toast to Jim: You were supposed to be here half an hour ago; may you have a damned good excuse, or else.
Leonard’s saved from terminal awkwardness by the appearance of Admirals Boyce, Pike, and Subramanya. At any ordinary event, the sight of so many pips and medals--even on the chests of old friends--would be enough to give Leonard agitata, but Leonard is heartily grateful to see them.
“Enjoying yourself, McCoy?” Pike asks with a knowing smile as they exchange handshakes all around. He’s got more gray hair than the last time Leonard saw him, but is handsomer and more self-assured nearing 60 than Leonard ever hopes to be. “Where’s your mouthier half?”
“In some godforsaken committee meeting,” Leonard says. "Sir."
"Appropriations? But that let out hours ago." Admiral Subramanya has a way of registering disapproval that makes Leonard feel like an eight-year-old late for his piano lessons. "President Van ko Liir specifically asked to meet him." Subramanya's arched eyebrow indicates this she considers this an unwelcome but not unexpected request.
It's been this way ever since they landed Earthside. Since winning the Battle of N'Veda against a much stronger Klingon force, Jim's been a more popular tourist attraction than the cable cars and shuttled around about as much. Starfleet may not fully trust Jim yet, but they're more than willing to use the nimbus of his fame to light up dark places. The fact that officialdom has eaten up two-thirds of their shore leave seems to bother no one but Leonard himself.
"I'm sure he'll be here, sir," Leonard says, unable to guarantee any such thing.
"You two getting any time off?" Boyce, Pike's partner, is equally keen-eyed and prone to mind reading, but seems to regard his and Jim's relationship with a kind of proprietary kindness.
"We have a cottage booked in Fiji. We were supposed to be there yesterday, but--"
"Duty calls," Boyce finishes. "Story of our lives, yes?" The admirals all chuckle and knock back sizable gulps of their drinks. Leonard supposes that one day he'll be as philosophical when it comes to bureaucratic idiocy; he's quite sure Jim never will.
There's a ripple of chatter and heads turning. Leonard glances toward the entrance of the reception hall and sees Jim. He's immaculate and, to Leonard's eyes, irresistible in his dress grays (which fortunately are resistant to wrinkles), but there's something…else. His smile is a little too brilliant, his eyes a little too sparkling, and he's got that expression on his face that says Show it to me, and whatever it is, I'll fight it, fuck it or fix it.
There's no doubt about it: Jim is lit up like a Christmas tree. Leonard feels his heart sink into his shoes and glares at Pike in a way that he hopes says You know the stress he's under; you wore him out. Now do something, goddamn it! Even in his mind, Leonard adds the sir.
But Pike does nothing, just exchanges a glance with Boyce, grabs another drink off a tray, and settles back to enjoy the show.
Leonard follows Jim's progress around the room like he's watching a slo-mo shuttle crash. Jim's beaming charisma draws every eye, and so every eye sees him clap the Vulcan ambassador on the back, whisper something in Admiral Gautang's ear that makes him turn a darker shade of blue, and suck the meat out of a crustacean shell in a manner that should be forbidden around children under 16.
"What's gotten into Kirk tonight?" Subramanya demands. "Whatever it is, it looks like it's about a liter too much. The Chief Protocol Officer might be needing your services soon, Doctor."
"Good God," Leonard whispers, "I've got to stop him." But his legs have gone numb with apprehension at the sight of Jim approaching a Tellarite dignitary in a low-cut tunic.
"I wouldn't worry," Boyce says quietly, putting a hand on his arm. "You know what Chris always says? 'They may not approve of the methods, but they always appreciate the result.'"
Jim's path of near-destruction finally brings him around to their side of the room. He arrives in a cloud of champagne fumes and bonhomie and kisses Admiral Subramanya's hand before draping his arms around Pike and Boyce.
"Did you stay at Appropriations long enough to see Ferelli's revised numbers for the Nebula class redesign?" Pike asks, unperturbed.
"Yeeeah, and they were awesome. Everything is awesome. Bones! " he says suddenly, as if he'd just noticed Leonard standing there. "Shit, you look fantastic. Twice as good as you looked this morning. God, why didn't I jump you then? Never mind, plenty of time for that."
He slides off Pike and Boyce's shoulders and lurches toward Leonard. There's a terrible moment when Leonard sees Jim's florid face coming toward him, and then his secondhand embarrassment turns to firsthand as Jim kisses him, on the lips, in the middle of the Cochrane Memorial Hall.
Before Leonard can detach himself, the Chief Protocol Officer bustles up.
"Captain Kirk?"
"Yes?" Jim manages to sound normal, even though he's still wrapped around Leonard like an anaconda.
"There've been--erm." She stutters, not sounding very diplomatic. "Changes in plans. The President of Al-Daraba may not be arriving for another hour. And as we've already taken up enough of your time this visit--"
"Oh, no. Nononono," Jim says, waving a finger at her like he's conducing an orchestra. "I insist. The President wants to meet me, so I'm staying right here. Wouldn't want to let her down. In fact, I have a story that I think she'd like to hear--" From Jim's chuckle, Leonard can tell what kind of story it is, and the Chief Protocol Officer probably can, too.
"That's very kind of you, Captain, but--" the diplomat, looking a bit desperate, catches someone's eye across the room. "But the Diplomatic Corps feels that we've taken up far too much of your valuable time during your very short leave. In fact, we--we're going to cancel our request that you appear at the five remaining events."
"Cancel? Really? Isn't that a shame." Leonard feels Jim's hand moving down his back and sincerely hopes it stops when it reaches his belt. "But I'm sure the Admiralty will be able to use all that free time."
"On the contrary." To Leonard's surprise, it's Admiral Subramanya speaking. "If the Diplomatic Corps feels so strongly about respecting your time off, I'm sure the least we can do is the same. For one of our own."
"Splendid," says the Chief Protocol Officer. "Enjoy your leave, Captain, wherever it is. I'm assuming it's not in San Francisco?"
"Nah," Kirk drawls. "Far away. Real far."
The Officer gives a sigh of relief. "Very good," she says, and hurries away.
Leonard waits for the three admirals to come down on Jim like a ton of bricks. Instead, all that happens is that Jim pats Leonard's ass--once--before Leonard swats his hand away. He meets Jim's eyes, intending to glare, and then he sees it.
"You son of a bitch, you're not drunk at all, are you?"
"I'm mostly not drunk," Jim says, keeping his hand on Leonard's back but north of the border. "I did have a shot of Jack on the way over, just to get in character."
"Then why on Earth--"
"Say what you will about Jim, you have to agree he has his priorities straight," Pike says, raising a glass in their direction. "You’re going to love the beaches in Fiji, boys. Crystal clear water.”
“Best enjoyed naked, of course.” Subramanya says. There’s a long pause.
“Well, you know what we always say,” Boyce says. “‘It’s not the journey but the destination.’”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Jim’s wandering hand has finally come to rest on Leonard’s hip. “The journey’s not so bad, either.”