RocketMan Part 2
Title: RocketMan
Author: Miss Meh
Universe/Series: Star Trek XI
Rating: R (for now)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Warnings: AU, language
Word Count: 6100
Status: WIP
Summary: Jim Kirk programmed the computer system for the starship, Enterprise. When one of the crewmen on the Enterprise’s first mission to Mars is injured, Starfleet asks Jim to step in. Kirk/Spock AU, fusion with RocketMan.
So, I wrote this chapter while on a six day business trip with my father. We spent about four of those days on a train, so I thought I would be able to get plenty written, including not only this chapter, but also the next chapter of Looking for Shooting Stars and the first chapters of new stories for both the Star Trek and the Supernatural fandoms. Unfortunately, I got sick (by the way, being sick on a train made for a miserable two days) and so only this chapter got written. For any of you who read LFSS, I’ll get back to writing it as soon as possible. :)
As for this chapter, well, I’m introducing a few ‘new’ characters (by new, I mean new to the story, of course, since I don’t really write OCs). I’m not going to tell you who ‘cause I don’t want to ruin it. I do hope you guys like what I’ve done with them, considering that this was my first time writing more than a few lines for anyone other than Jim or Spock.
Hope you guys enjoy. XD
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RocketMan Part 2
Jim didn’t have a fucking clue how he had gotten here.
He and Chris were at his house-in his living room, with his mother-and well, he knew how they had physically gotten there, but he couldn’t wrap his head around how this could possibly be happening.
Chris wanted to talk with her. Shit, this wasn’t going to end well.
“Chris,” Winona said stiffly, finally breaking what seemed to Jim to be a horribly awkward silence. “What are you doing here?”
“I ran into Jim today at Starfleet, and he mentioned that you were the reason he was rejecting the chance to go on the first manned mission to Mars,” Chris replied in a very matter-of-fact tone. Jim winced as his mother’s hand tightened painfully around his arm. “You were a Starfleet officer once. You know what kind of opportunity that is. And it’s unheard of for the Starfleet brass to offer it to someone who doesn’t even work for them.”
“He’s not going,” she hissed. “Space is dangerous, and Starfleet can’t be trusted. He’d be going to his death. It’s better for him to stay here where I can make sure he’s safe.”
“Is that what you’re doing? Making sure he’s safe?” Chris repeated incredulously. “Winona, you’re smothering him. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t end up completely burning himself out by the time he’s thirty. The kid’s twenty-five; it’s about time you let him make his own decisions.” Jim started to open his mouth to protest that he could damn well make his own decisions just fine, thanks, but before he could do so, Chris held up a hand to silence him. “I know what you’re going to say, Jim, but I’m willing to bet that she’s been influencing your decisions for so long that you don’t even realize she’s doing it anymore. It started before she threw me out of your lives, and I’m sure that whatever she’s been doing lately to keep you here amounts to little more than emotional blackmail.”
“Fuck you, Chris,” Winona spat. Jim stared at her in shock; his mother didn’t cuss. Ever. “He’s my son. Who are you to come in here and spout a bunch of shit? If he wanted to leave, he would have left already. Hell, Sam left when he was sixteen. If you think for one fucking second that that boy doesn’t stay because he loves me…”
“Mom, I do love you,” Jim hastened to reassure her. “And as for the Starfleet thing…” he started, intending to tell her that he wasn’t going to go; he wasn’t going to leave her behind.
“You must not love me at all if you’re even considering going into space on a fucking Starfleet mission!” She was yelling now. Tears started gathering in her eyes, and within moments, she was sobbing.
Jim could only look at her. Fuck, that hurt. He’d stayed with her for years when every instinct he had had as a human being had screamed at him that it was time to live his own life. He hadn’t run away, like Chris had, like Sam had. He was the one person in her life who had always stood by her, and now she was saying that he didn’t love her at all?
“Okay, that’s enough. Jim,” Chris called to him. “I think you should let your mother and I talk in private for a minute.”
Jim shook his head. “She’s crying,” he said, aiming a glare at Chris and thinking, This is all his fault.
“Jim, go outside,” Chris repeated, his tone firm. “I need to make some things clear to your mother. She needs to hear what I have to say.” Noticing that Jim was still reluctant, he added, “I’ll try not to upset her anymore.”
Jim stared at him for a long moment, before finally nodding and striding out of the room. He didn’t go much further than that though, instead tucking himself into an alcove on the other side of the wall. Like hell was he letting Chris talk to his mother without eavesdropping on them. He wanted to say that it was so that he could make sure Chris wasn’t saying anything bad to her, but he knew himself too well to believe it. Jim was curious. What the fuck was Chris going to say to her, and how was that supposed to get him on the Mars mission?
He heard Chris sigh, and there was some shuffling as he apparently moved to sit next to Jim’s mother. “Look Winona, you can’t keep doing this. You need to start acting like a parent and do what’s in Jim’s best interest. Eventually that boy is going to get fed up with giving up his life for you. He’ll leave you in favor of his own happiness, and you won’t be able to do a thing to stop it.” There was a pause, and all Jim heard was the soft sound of his mother crying. Chris’s voice softened as he spoke the next words, and Jim had to strain his ears to hear what he said. “You aren’t just hurting Jim; you’re hurting yourself, too. You haven’t been living, Winona. You can’t keep punishing yourself. None of us could have saved him. It wasn’t your fault.”
That startled him. Why the fuck would his mother feel guilty for his father’s death? He knew she had been on the mission, but it wasn’t like there had been anything she could have done to stop it. George Kirk’s death had been a combination of bad luck and heroism. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault.
There was a sudden silence in the other room. Curious, Jim peeked around the corner just in time to see his mother fall into Chris’s arms.
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His mother hadn’t really told him that she was alright with him going into space, but she didn’t protest when Jim told her that he was going to call Nero that day to tell him that he had reconsidered his offer. She had just stared at him with this horribly sad look in her eyes and said, “If that is what you want, Jim.”
Jim didn’t know what to do. His mother and her needy nature had been a constant in his life for as long as he could remember. Trying to ignore the impulse to give in to what she obviously wanted-even if she wasn’t saying it for once-was growing more and more difficult. He had been doing it for so long that resisting the urge felt unnatural.
He sighed and turned away from his mother, picking up his work bag and heading toward the door. A thought hit him, and he went back to kiss her on the cheek before leaving.
Jim called Nero first thing when he finally arrived at work. He had gotten there early, so he didn’t feel as though he was breaking the “no personal calls on company time” rule.
Nero picked up after three rings. “Admiral Nero speaking.”
“Hello… sir,” he added as an afterthought. “This is Jim Kirk. I reconsidered your offer, and I would like to accept.”
Nero let out a short laugh, and even through the phone, it sounded condescending and arrogant to Jim. “Too late, Kirk. We already found someone else, so you are no longer necessary.”
“Sir, you didn’t even give me any time to think about it. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours,” Jim said, trying very hard to reign in his outrage. What the fuck? How could they have found someone else qualified to use his software so quickly? “I’m sure if you just give me a chance to…”
“My decision is final, Kirk. Don’t bother to call back.” There was a click, and then Jim was left listening to the dial tone.
He slammed the phone back down on the cradle, a string of cuss words on his lips. Okay, he needed to calm down. He needed to think. He needed… He needed to call Chris. Chris would figure something out, or at the very least he would be someone to share his frustration with.
Jim quickly searched his pockets to find the card Chris had given him with his phone number. He pulled it triumphantly from his front right pocket, grabbed the phone again, and punched the number into it.
“Pike.”
“Chris, it’s Jim.” A part of him really wanted to start yelling at him. This was all Chris’s fault after all. If he had just let it be, Jim would have left it alone; he wouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. He could have just continued on, business as usual and completely ignored the fact that he was missing out on something that had the power to change his life for the better. Instead, Chris had stuck his nose in it, and now Jim had thought he would get to experience that change for real. He really wanted to take it out on Chris, let him have it, but at the same time, he also knew he wanted to keep his relationship with Chris from crumbling anymore than it already had after he had abandoned them. Jim was tired of always going it on his own, and Chris seemed willing to take some of that burden from him. The thought strengthened his resolve and allowed him to speak in a more civil tone. “Nero told me that he has already chosen someone else for the Mars mission. Do you know anything about it?”
“He did what?” Chris asked, his voice holding a note of complete incredulity. “He just offered it to you yesterday. He should have given you time to think it over. I’m going to call him and see if we can come to an agreement.”
And for the second time in twenty minutes, Jim was listening to a dial tone.
It only took Chris an hour to call Jim back. By that point, Jim had already started doing his work for the day, and the ringing of the phone startled him out of his concentration. He picked it up and muttered a distracted “Kirk here,” into the receiver, his thoughts still trying to puzzle out how the hell one of his fellow programmers had managed to fuck up the coding so badly.
“Jim, it’s Chris. I talked to the Admiral. He wasn’t too happy about it, but I got him to agree to hold trials for the spot on the Mars mission. You need to report to Starfleet by eight tomorrow morning.” There was a short pause before Chris finally said, “Jim, I don’t think I need to tell you that you are going to have to do everything practically perfect to get the spot. Nero was not happy about giving you a second chance. Something about you telling him that he and his career could go fuck themselves.” Chris’s chuckle sounded tinny in Jim’s ears.
“You won’t regret this, Chris. I won’t fuck this up,” Jim assured him. “Even if I’m still not completely sure I’m doing the right thing,” he added as an afterthought.
“That’s another thing,” Chris told him. “I think you need to move out of your mother’s house. It won’t be easy on either of you to keep living together while you’re still planning on going into space.”
Move out? Could he even think about doing something like that? “I can’t do that. The last time I tried to move out, she tried to kill herself,” Jim replied, his tone hollow.
“Don’t worry about your mother, Jim. I’ll take care of her.” Chris sighed. “I’ll even move in with her myself if I have to, but you have to get out of there. I know that if you stay you’ll end up letting her talk you into not going.”
Jim wanted to protest, say that there was no way his mother would be able to talk him out of it, but Chris was right. Jim had allowed her to sway him on pretty much every decision he had ever made. She would eventually talk him out of going, and they both knew it.
“Fine. I’ll agree you have a point. Where should I go?”
Jim could hear the smile, even if they were on the phone. “I know the perfect place.”
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Jim stood outside of the apartment building staring up at it, the boxes containing all of his belongings stacked around him. He knew he should start bringing things up to his new room, but he was being hit with the unexpected onset of nerves. Jim had never lived with anyone but his mother and Sam, and even the thought of living with roommates-there were two of them-was a bit daunting.
Chris slapped a hand down on his shoulder, drawing him out of his thoughts. “Come on, Jim,” he said as he hefted Jim’s duffle bag up onto his shoulder. “The hard part’s already over. New roommates are nothing compared to that. I promise you’ll like them; they’re both great guys.”
Chris was right. The most difficult part of all of this had been accomplished hours ago. Picking out what he did and didn’t need had been tough. Packing up all of his stuff and getting it out of the house had been a pain in the ass. But the worst part by far had been saying goodbye to his mother. Winona just hadn’t been able to stop crying. It seemed to him as though she had been crying from the minute Chris had talked her into letting him go into space, and the fact that Jim had then decided to move out hadn’t helped matters
It had gotten so bad that he had cold feet about the whole thing, going to Chris the day before the move and telling him that he just couldn’t do it. The older man hadn’t let him get away with it though, going so far as to promise that if worst came to worst, he would move in with Winona himself. Jim had stared at Chris suspiciously, but he had seemed serious enough
Jim just couldn’t understand why Chris was being so helpful. It didn’t make any sense to him. In his experience, people were selfish creatures. Getting something for nothing just didn’t happen.
When he had said as much to Chris, the other man had looked sheepish. “I’m not doing it for nothing, Jim. In my opinion, I wronged you by leaving when your mother told me to. While it’s true that there was only so much I could have done considering my lack of blood ties to you and Sam, I know that things could have been better for you if I had stayed. All I’m doing now is correcting the mistake I made all those years ago.”
Now that had made sense. Jim could understand the urge to right the wrongs of the past. It was what had led him to make up with Sam after spending so many years being so angry with him that he had refused to accept any of the lines of communication his brother had attempted to open after leaving.
As for Chris, well, Jim still harbored a bit of resentment toward him for abandoning them, but it had almost completely disappeared since he had reappeared. Though it wasn’t really in his nature, Jim wanted to trust Chris. He wanted to believe that his life could change, and now it was time for him to do something about it. Nobody could change it for him; he had to be the one to take that first step.
Jim nodded at Chris, taking a deep breath before ascending the stairway leading up to his new apartment building.
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Chris had been right, damn him. Jim did like living separate from his mother, and he really liked his new roommates.
Said roommates, Leonard McCoy and Pavel Chekov, were the other members of the four-man team that had been assembled for the Mars mission. McCoy was a thirty-something who had at one time been a doctor down in Georgia before he had joined Starfleet. His wife had taken him for more than he was worth and gotten custody of their only daughter, so he hadn’t had very many options. Starfleet had been looking for qualified doctors to send on their missions, and despite his extreme dislike of space, he hadn’t been able to pass it up.
Pavel Chekov was a boy genius from Russia with the brightest smile and the most sickeningly cute curls Jim had ever seen. He had originally joined Starfleet at fourteen, but they hadn’t assigned him to any missions until he was eighteen. The Mars mission had been his first, and though it had been almost two years since he had first been assigned to it, he was apparently still just as excited as ever to be going into space. Jim could tell because every time he talked about it, his accent got just a little bit stronger.
The flat itself had originally been intended to serve as quarters for all four Starfleet officers involved in an attempt to get all of them used to living together before going into space. After their month-long trial period, Spock had gone back to his own apartment (which Jim was extremely disappointed about) while Cupcake had needed to move out after his accident (good riddance to bad rubbish). McCoy and Chekov hadn’t had apartments to return to, so they had decided to stay.
He had started calling McCoy “Bones” in an effort to cheer the guy up. Jim, with his usual lack of tact, had made the mistake of asking McCoy why the hell he would decide to live in Starfleet housing with a teenager. The hurt in the man’s eyes had been palpable as he muttered, “The wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce. All I had left was my bones. Starfleet housing is better than being homeless.”
Bones hated his nickname. Every time Jim used it, the man would snap at him, “The name’s McCoy.” He still used it though. Jim wasn’t the type to make fast friends, but he genuinely liked Bones and Chekov. He had always been of the opinion that being angry was better than being sad; if Jim’s teasing made the guy forget about his problems for a few seconds, well, at least that was preferable to him roaming the halls weeping
It also didn’t hurt that Jim really enjoyed it. Bones was just one of those people who was way too much fun to mess with.
The day before his training and trials were to begin, Bones and Chekov invited Jim out to a local bar that was really popular with Starfleet officers. It had been a few days since he had moved in with them, and by that point, he was comfortable enough with them that going out for drinks wasn’t awkward. Bones made it perfectly clear, however, that if he got drunk, there was no way in hell he was getting a hypo for his hangover
“I prefer to see you suffer,” he told him with a twitch of his lips (which, if Jim was not mistaken, was almost a smile).
“Oh fuck,” Jim replied. “I’m living with a sadist.”
“What d’you know? This one learns fast,” he said as they entered the bar.
They quickly found a table that would fit the three of them and sat down. The bar was a bit crowded, so it was a few minutes before a waitress came up to their table to get their order.
“I’ll take a beer,” Jim said when prompted. “Whatever you have on draft.”
“Gimme a glass of bourbon,” Bones ordered. “And a Shirley Temple for the little one.”
Chekov crossed his arms, and Jim would swear he saw his bottom lip poking out just a little bit further. “Alcohol was inwented in Russia, you know. We haff vodka ewery morning with breakfast. It ees not fair zhat you will not let me drink.”
“Yeah, well you’re in America right now, kiddo,” Bones said, cutting off his complaints. “And here, the drinkin’ age is twenty-one and givin’ alcohol to a minor is a crime. You’re shit outta luck.”
“I’ve always thought that law was stupid myself,” Jim commented. “I mean, eighteen year old kids go die in American wars, but they can’t drink? Never made much sense to me.”
Bones nodded. “Personally, I agree with you.” Chekov’s face brightened, so he added quickly, “That doesn’t mean I’m willing to risk goin’ to jail just so you can get a buzz.”
Chekov turned to Jim, a hopeful look on his face. Jim laughed and put up his hands. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I don’t want to go to jail any more than he does.” Chekov just looked at him for a moment, disappointment apparent on his face, before slumping back in his seat.
Jim was not as surprised as he should have been to find that he was having fun. Yeah, Bones was a total grump and Chekov sometimes seemed even younger than he actually was, but they were both fun to hang out with. What he was surprised by was how much he had missed having friends. He had never really had all that many in the first place, but those he had made hadn’t stuck around after high school. They all had lives now, and they definitely didn’t have time to deal with Jim, whose situation had barely changed at all.
The waitress dropped their drinks off at the table, and Chekov immediately reached for Bones bourbon. Considering how sadistic the man had turned out to be, Jim half expected Bones to slap the boy’s hand (he was sure it would be a hard slap too), but instead, Bones grabbed Chekov’s hand and gently put it back on his side of the table. Jim looked over at his roommates with new eyes, noticing for the first time that they were sitting way too close together on the booth bench opposite him. He wondered if they even knew what kind of vibes they were sending out at the moment
It didn’t have a purely sexual feel, though that was certainly one component of it. He couldn’t identify the overall feeling, but it was a good one. It almost made him feel envious of their relationship (although he was sure neither one had acted on it yet); he wanted… well, he wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with Spock.
Jim sighed. He had thought that agreeing to join the mission would mean that he would be able to see the Vulcan every day, but he hadn’t seen Spock at all since that time he had accidentally wandered into his lab. He was really hoping that that would change soon.
He lifted his beer to take another drink and realized that it was empty. He noticed that Bones was throwing back the last of his bourbon, and Chekov was pushing ice cubes around his liquid-less glass with his tiny cocktail straw. He glanced around and saw that the harried-looking waitress was dealing with a few drunks on the other side of the room. He could’ve swore he saw a flash of black hair and pointed ears, but someone stepped in front of them before he could be sure, and he was almost positive that this wasn’t the kind of place a Vulcan would frequent. “I’ll get the next round,” he offered, gathering up the glasses so that he could bring them back to the bar.
“Thanks, Jim,” they chorused as he left. He lifted a hand in acknowledgement, but didn’t turn around, instead approaching the bar and setting the glasses down.
The bartender was talking to the girl next to him, and... holy shit, she was hot. Dark skin, long hair, short skirt, knee high boots. Oh my god, he thought. Look at that ass. She wasn’t exactly his type-when he went for girls, he usually liked them to be smaller and sweeter, and this one was tall and looked like a spitfire-but she was too fine for him not to take any notice at all. He was a guy after all (one who hadn’t been laid in a very long time), and it was beyond his feeble powers of self-control to resist speaking to her.
A small voice in the back of his head protested. Spock, it said, and while that voice had been easy enough to ignore when he hadn’t even met the guy, it was not so easily ignored now. Jim brushed it aside. Sex wasn’t his main objective here, so he had nothing to feel guilty about. All he wanted was a bit of flirtation. Jim had found over the years that he was a natural flirt, but the chances for him to use said skills were very few and far between. He wanted some kind of social interaction with the opposite sex and he wanted it badly.
“That’s a lot of drinks for one woman.” It wasn’t really-she had only ordered two drinks-but who was counting?
“And a shot of Jack, straight up,” she completed her order, not even turning to look at him.
Jim frowned, and tried again, “Make that two, shots on me.”
“Her shots on her,” she told the bartender before turning to Jim and saying, “Thanks, but no thanks.&rdquo
Damn, now he remembered why he preferred the sweet ones. They at least let him buy them a drink before rejecting him. And yet… “Don’t you at least want to know my name before you completely reject me?” He sent her his most flirtatious grin.
The girl ignored it. “I’m fine without it.”
“You are fine without it,” he agreed, not bothering to keep the admiration out of his voice. “It’s Jim. Jim Kirk.” Another grin. “You?” She gave him a quick look, but didn’t respond. “C’mon, if you don’t tell me, I’m just gonna have to make one up for you.”
“It’s Uhura,” she reluctantly admitted. Jim did an internal victory dance and let his grin grow just a fraction wider.
“Uhura! No way!” he exclaimed. “That’s the name I was gonna make up for you. Uhura what?”
“Just Uhura,” she replied, her tone telling him not to push it.
“Okay, ‘Just Uhura’, what do you do for a living?”
She graced him with a confident smile. “I am a systems infrastructure analyst with a specialization in linguistics and communications.” Uhura paused and looked at him for a moment before adding, “You have no idea what that means.”
Jim let out a short laugh. “It means you’re a fixer. You can look through the hardware of an entire computer network and tell exactly which part is malfunctioning.” He let a lecherous grin overtake his face. “Your specializations just means that you have a talented tongue.”
“I’m impressed,” Uhura said drily, not looking impressed in the least. “For a moment there, I thought you were just a dumb hick who only has sex with farm animals.&rdquo
Jim could see that she was trying to keep a straight face, but the twitching of her lips was giving her away. Finally, she was starting to flirt back. “Well…” He drew the word out. “Not only.”
Uhura laughed, and Jim felt his heart skip a beat. Sure, she totally wasn’t his type, but she did have a beautiful laugh. He knew it couldn’t go beyond flirtation though; this girl would chew him up and spit him out if he even tried to seriously make a move on her. Sleeping with her was definitely out of the question.
The bartender interrupted to pass her the drinks she had ordered and accept her money. Uhura smiled at him as she passed, and he couldn’t help but smile back before turning to give the bartender his order.
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A good hour or so later, Jim found himself in a spirited discussion of space travel with Bones and Chekov. The only one who wasn’t the least bit enthused about it was Bones, who was of the opinion that space was “disease and danger, darkness and silence”. Jim had laughed at that (he was a little bit tipsy at that point) because it was such a Bones thing to say something like that. It was fucking hilarious.
He was in the middle of taking a drink when he spied a lithe male form making its way toward them through the crowd. Oh, shit. Spock really was here. He choked on his beer and started spluttering. Just great, Jim thought. Not only is Spock here, but he also gets to see me acting like a jackass. Fucking terrific.
He was wiping the beer off of his chin when he noticed that Uhura was following the Vulcan. They knew each other? It just kept getting better and better.
Spock stopped in front of their table, his hands seeming to go naturally to clasp behind his back. “Lieutenants,” he addressed Bones and Chekov. His eyes turned to Jim, and the human felt his heartbeat speed up as their eyes met. “Jim Kirk.”
Wow, Jim had never noticed just how brown the man’s eyes were. He had always thought they were black because from a distance black is exactly the color they looked. But now… Now, they looked like melted chocolate. He felt like he could fall into them and drown and be perfectly happy for the rest of his life. He licked his lips and leaned toward Spock unconsciously and…
“What ya doin’ here, Spock? This isn’t a place I’d expect to find a hobgoblin.” Bones asked, breaking into Jim’s thoughts. Jim quickly straightened back up in his seat and looked around, his face flushed, hoping that no one had noticed. Spock was as stoic as ever, but judging by the look on Uhura’s face, she had noticed, and she wasn’t happy about it.
“Must I once again remind you that I am a Vulcan, not a hobgoblin?” Spock inquired.
“Kinda like I’m a doctor, not a miracle worker? You don’t see the distinction, so I don’t either,” Bones replied stubbornly. “Now answer the question.”
“I was having dinner with a colleague.” Spock inclined his head toward Uhura. “My companion is Nyota Uhura.”
Jim leaned forward in interest. “So your name isn’t ‘Just Uhura’ then?” Jim asked, a teasing glint in his eye. “You lied to me. I’m so disappointed.”
A reluctant grin tugged at her lips. “Women like to keep an air of mystery,” she confessed. “I am no exception.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jim saw Chekov’s face brighten. “Indeed. Zhat technique was inwented in Russia,” he declared. “Russian ladies are zhe best when eet comes to meestery.”
Everybody, excepting Spock of course, turned bewildered looks on poor, misguided Chekov. Jim grinned at him and reached across the table to clap him on the shoulder. “True enough. I met this Russian woman once and, well, she had enough mystery to… Actually, now that I think about it, she probably was a spy.”
Now everyone was staring at him, most of their expressions torn between amused and disbelieving. Jim just smirked, surreptitiously peaking at Spock in an attempt to figure out what his non-reaction meant. Of course, Vulcans were known for their poker faces, and Jim hadn’t known Spock for long enough to be able to read him yet. As a result, Jim had no clue what was going on beneath that bowl cut.
Jim shook his head and focused back on Uhura. He sent a grin her way and raised his eyebrows in a ‘come hither’ gesture. “So, Nyota, what are your plans for the rest of the night?” Jim asked, his voice teasing.
Uhura rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she replied tauntingly.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Bones muttered.
Jim turned back to face him. “Had too much to drink, Bones?” He didn’t believe it for a minute. They’d only had four rounds, and Bones had told him right off the bat-well, okay, Jim had maybe insinuated that he was planning to get him drunk-that he had a very high tolerance for alcohol.
“No, you just disgust me,” Bones grumped. “S’about time for us to go home anyway, boys. We’ve all gotta be to work early tomorrow.” He edged out of the seat and stretched as he stood, accentuating the curve of his spine. Jim looked over at Chekov, innocent little Chekov, who was pointedly trying and failing not to peak at Bones ass, and found himself snickering internally.
“Nyota, I believe it may be time for us to depart as well,” Spock said stiffly as Jim slid out from his side of the table. “McCoy, Chekov, I have found our brief conversation to be pleasant. Kirk…” Jim’s head swung around at the sound of his name. Emotion flitted through Spock’s eyes, but it was gone before Jim could figure out what it was. “I will see you in the morning. Make sure you are on time.”
Jim watched Spock as they left, not even noticing Uhura as she tried to say goodbye to him. Somehow, he thought Spock’s eyes had been trying to tell him something, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what that something was.
He stood there frozen until a moment later when Bones gathered Jim and Chekov up and dragged them out the door.
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I hope you guys enjoyed the second part of RocketMan. Right now, I’m thinking there are going to be five or six parts total (although, considering the fact that it was originally supposed to be one to two parts max, that number is subjective). I also hope that you guys are okay with the Bones/Chekov thing. I wasn’t originally going to make it very obvious, but Bones isn’t exactly subtle and Chekov is surprisingly less innocent than I was planning on making him. Ah, stuff happens, right? :P
As for the Jim/Spock/Uhura dynamic, I did want to reassure everyone that there is not going to be any Jim/Uhura or Spock/Uhura in this fic. Don’t get me wrong; I really like Uhura. She is strong and independent and fierce, but I do NOT see her as a good match for either Spock or Jim. Plus, I don’t write het. It’s just not my thing. Anyway, in this fic, I wanted her to have a love/hate relationship with Jim, because really, it is much more fun to see them banter than to see them spew vitriol at each other. So yeah, I hope you enjoyed what I did with it. :)
Part 1 | Masterpost | Part 3