THIS WAS BRIBED OUT OF ME
James T. Kirk knows pretty much exactly what he looks like.
He's a little tall for his age, still hasn't quite grown out of this whole puberty thing and a bit awkward all over. He's got blonde hair and blue eyes and he's pretty damn fine looking, if you don't mind him saying (and if you do, he'll say it anyway). He can pass from anywhere between sixteen to twenty and as far as anyone looking at him is concerned, he's just another idiot kid brawling it up on the streets, making a mess of his life.
Which is good.
Suits him, really.
Because James T. Kirk has plans.
---
As far as Jim's concerned, this particular city isn't going to the dogs. It's gone to the dogs, been chewed up, spat out, crapped on and left to rot. It's got everything he could've ever asked for; a disgruntled populace, corrupt cops, corrupt bureaucrats, corrupt everyone. And it's his.
Well, not yet, no. But it will be.
And he knows that even if he aims high, he's got to start low. Got to find someone who can cover his back so that while he's working on the James T. Kirk Plan of Awesome, he won't be worrying about someone doing a number on him.
Which is where the reputation as a fight loving idiot comes in. It's all the excuse he needs, and he can't deny that he does love a good punch-up. There's something remarkably refreshing about the sheer rush of adrenalin (no better thrill) coursing through his veins and the crack of some asshole's jaw as he throws a right hook and it lands hard- oh, yeah. He's good at this.
So he spends a good month or two working his way around the streets, bashing heads into walls, stomping people into curbs, that sort of thing. It's kind of fun up until the point where he goes for this weird guy with a shitty haircut, at which the guy just takes a good look at him and then suddenly he's on the sidewalk, thinking about how blue the sky looks from here, completely out of breath and hurting like hell.
The weird guy looks at him for a moment longer, and then walks off.
He gets all of two steps away before Jim's sitting up, still breathing hard and grinning like nobody's business.
"Hey!" He yells, "hey, that was fucking cool!"
One eyebrow goes up, and the weird guy's expression says far more eloquently than words could ever do that anyone who thinks getting laid out on the sidewalk is cool was probably dropped on their heads at birth.
"No, no, I mean it." Jim laughs, crawling onto his feet, and takes a good hard look at the guy. Shabby, well worn clothes, nothing in his hands and eyebrows that look like they're going to fly off his face any second.
He decides that he likes him.
So just as the guy starts to leave for the second time, Jim's moving forwards, grabbing his wrist. "Ease up- look, listen. I know you think I'm crazy, and heck, maybe I am, but do you want to join me? I'm going to take over this city. Not right now, but I will. I'm going to start small and work my way up, but it won't take too long. Give me ten years and I'll be right up there- but I need someone like you around."
It's the first time he's told anyone what he plans on doing, and the man just stares pointedly at him for a while and then stares just as pointedly at where Jim's still grabbing his wrist.
Letting go, Jim takes a half-step back and grins. "James T. Kirk," he says, holding out a hand. "Call me Jim."
There's a pause. Then-
"Spock," the weird guy says, taking it.
And that's how they become best friends.
---
Well, not really. Spock (which is really his name, and with a name like that, it's no surprise he's become pretty fine at taking people down when they so much as look at him funny) keeps giving Jim this look and doing this thing with his eyebrows and giving Jim the impression that he thinks Jim's being a complete moron, but given how they met it's pretty understandable.
But Spock did come with him anyway, which means that the other guy had to have been pretty insane in his own right.
He doesn't talk about himself, though, and neither does Jim. No point in that, when they can focus on the future.
"We'll need more people," Jim tells him, back at their base. It's a ratty, unused and half burnt out shell of a house that's otherwise uninhabited and technically government property. "I was thinking to start with getting control of the East Side first, just about here-" he jabs at the map on the floor, "-with some racketeering. Maybe get control of some of the gambling dens, too. It's not like there aren't guys doing their thing down there, but now that there are two of us, we can just take them all down and move in."
Spock leans back against the wall and frowns. "You understand that what you are proposing is clearly illegal," he says.
"Yeah, but look at it this way- it's a crummy district, and we'll just be clearing out the trash. Streamlining operations. You've got to admit we could do a better job than the goons there, now."
Giving him another look, like Jim's a fish that just grew legs and learnt to speak, Spock remains silent for a while before speaking. "It would, of course, be illogical to expect the official channels to handle such matters, seeing as how they are- quite logically- focusing their attention on more important districts to them."
"Exactly," Jim says, beginning to smile. "You're getting it."
"But we will need someone to keep accounts."
Which is why, when Jim walks into the base the next day, he is not entirely surprised to see a really gorgeous girl sitting next to Spock and talking to him about something or the other.
"Well, hello there," he starts, and they both turn to look at him. "Say, babe, are you going to be the one who gets to keep an account of me?"
It's pretty bad, as far as pick up lines go, and Jim knows he completely deserves the withering looks from both Spock and the new girl- which is why he scoots over and places himself right next to her before either of them can say anything. "So, do you have a name?"
"You," she says, after a moment, "can call me Uhura."
"And what does Spock call you?" Jim replies, to which she just shakes her head and smiles.
He looks at her, looks at Spock, and looks at the look that both she and Spock share, and promptly decides that he likes her too.
---
Uhura turns out to be some kind of genius, but that's fine, that's just fine because both Spock and him are both geniuses too and she fits in pretty well with the both of them.
It takes a matter of weeks- two, actually- before they've got their little operation set up and they're raking in the cash. It's not that big a sum and a sizeable amount goes to what Uhura calls 'getting the groundwork done' and Spock says is 'a logical progression' and Jim thinks of as 'a motherfucking waste of time', but since he doesn't have to actually do it himself, he never actually says that out loud.
They buy books and calculators and other impressive things which he's not entirely sure the use of, but anyway, he trusts Spock not to waste their hard earned money. Spock, who apart from having a killer punch (which he's really going to have to try to learn someday) has turned out to be pretty much amazing at anything he turns his hand to. Watching him pour over the maps of the city, Jim mentally congratulates himself for having such wonderful taste in people.
Which reminds him. It's not like they're doing badly for themselves, but three people isn't going to be enough to take over the whole damn city. A street or two, maybe even an entire district if they're lucky, but they'll need others.
"I was thinking," he says.
Spock looks at him like he's surprised Jim has the mental capacity to- which is really kind of undeserving, wasn't Jim the one behind all this- and waits for him to continue. Uhura just continues working.
"There's this guy I know- known him for some time. He's kind of an ass sometimes but he's good, and it'd be nice to have someone else around."
"If that is all the reason you see fit to provide, Jim, then I must disagree-"
"He's a doctor," Jim continues, grinning. "He's a doctor, and he just got kicked out of his house 'cause his wife divorced him and took over the practice. You can't tell me that wouldn't be an asset."
Uhura blinks. "Leonard McCoy?" she asks.
"You know him?"
"We've met," Uhura says, suddenly tight lipped, and Jim gets the feeling that he shouldn't be asking any further about this. But then she smiles and nods, and Spock shrugs, evidently fine with that.
So Jim goes to fetch the good doctor from the bar just down the street where he's been drinking himself dumb.
"Hi, Bones," he says.
"The hell is it this time, Jim," Leonard McCoy replies, frowning.
"We're recruiting, Bones," Jim explains, slowly. "You know that guy who laid me out, the one that cracked my ribs that time-"
"Of course I remember. Damn it, Jim, I'm a doctor, not an entire A&E ward, and the way you get yourself run over every other day-"
"-yeah, well. We're taking over the city together with this girl called Uhura," he continues, and the doctor stares at him like he's grown a second head or something. "And anyway, since you got kicked out and everything, you want to join us? We'll pay you, even."
"You. Pay me."
"We've got money. Racketeering, gambling, maybe a little something else on the side- not drugs, though, I know you don't like that- come on, Bones, you're never going to be out of business again. And you get to keep an eye on me, isn't that what you've always wanted?"
Leonard McCoy snorts, like it's everything he's never wanted, but he's really, really drunk- which is why Bones wakes up the next morning in the base with a killer hangover and Jim looking down at him with a cocky grin on his face.
Too late to back out now.
---
And Bones really is a great doctor, if a bit too damn keen on tough love and giving Jim medicine that tastes like crap. They build him a small lab down in the basement for him and he proceeds to spend the next few weeks alternating between shouting at Jim, patching Jim up, shouting at Spock, patching Spock up and generally being his beautiful self. Uhura gets along with him, though, and when Jim and Spock see both the doctor and the girl chatting quietly one morning and shooting occasional glances in their direction, they share a look that says we will never speak of this again and go back to recovering from their latest fight.
It's been about a year since he first met Spock and they've got a pretty steady flow of income now. Since they haven't exactly disrupted or increased the level of crime around this part of the city (streamlining operations, Jim grins) the authorities still haven't taken any notice of them.
But they will soon, so that's all right.
Because though they've managed to eke out a place in the city for them, it's not good enough. Jim's still got his plans and he's still going to move up and take the rest of them with him.
They have guns now, solid, heavy weapons that fit comfortably in Jim's hands and that he's immediately taken with. They have explosives, and although Jim's not entirely sure what the stuff inside does, he trusts that Bones got the mixture right. Sure, the man's a doctor, not a chemist, but he's pretty much the closest they've got.
"Ready?" he asks Spock, and gets a slight nod in reply. "Right, then-"
The resulting explosion takes out at least two houses, but it's okay because firstly, it's not their houses and secondly no one's actually inside. What's more, they've managed to blow up, oh, most of the largest crime family's stock of illegally obtained drugs, the thought of which makes Jim feel happy and warm. See, Bones, he wants to shout, I can break things without getting myself hurt, you'd be so proud.
He settles for giving Spock a clap on the shoulder and leans back, hands in his pockets and just loving the afterglow of the blast. He has to say, though, he's not quite loving the smallish man in a trenchcoat who's running out of the gate behind him with something like shock! Apprehension! And Horror! On his face.
"I cannae believe it," the man gasps. "My still. My still was in there."
"Your still?" Spock asks him, and Jim's about to say something like No, Spock, we do not ask strangers about their weird habits, especially not guys that look like they're flashers, but before he can open his mouth, the man's already gone on.
"My still! For cryin' out loud, I'd spent the better of a month workin' on that beauty, and now- well, just look!"
"Thought those houses were for drugs, not alcohol," Jim comments, looking the man over. He's got an accent that's from out of town, and a face that's definitely not local. Migrant worker? Petty criminal? Maybe.
"Well, I never said anything about working on it legal, like..." he shoots both Jim and Spock a suspicious glance, but really, he's said more than enough to incriminate himself already. Spock's doing that funny eyebrow thing of his again, and Jim's thinking about this.
"So, who're you with?" he asks the man. "Nero's gang? Can't be, they're Romanian only, but they're the only ones in this area, so..."
"Archer's," the man says, and makes a face. "Well, I was, but there was this thing with his dog-"
"The one that disappeared two months back? I knew that dog," Jim starts.
"-yes, well, this thing, you see," and the man waves his hands around and explains that it clearly wasnae his fault, but what's a man to do in times like these, and people, well, people would believe the stupidest things, wouldn't you know it.
A slow grin starts to appear on Jim's face, and he knows Spock isn't going to like this, which makes it all the better. "Say, uh, Mister-"
"Scott. Montgomery Scott."
"Right, say, Scotty, how'd you like to have a new still? One that won't get blown up and is all your very own. And a regular paycheck, too. Sound good?"
Scotty looks at him suspiciously, mirroring Spock's face. "And what ye'd want for that?"
"Your undying loyalty," Jim says, extending a hand. "I'm James T. Kirk, and it's a pleasure to meet you."
---
They get Scotty the still, though Spock protests until Jim points out that it's a logical action to take in in light of the bigger picture, because hiring people who used to work for the bigger gangs around means that he can ask them about how those gangs work and also at the same time show his flexibility and magnanimity.
"So if anyone wants to defect, they can defect to us, see?" He explains patiently. Spock proceeds to point out that this also means that the law- or whatever passes for it- as well as some of the more powerful gangs will be taking a bigger notice of their little operation which is something they might not yet be ready for.
"Then we'll be ready," Jim assures him. "Trust me."
There's little left that he wants to say, so he ducks around Spock and heads downstairs. The building's been shaping up bit by bit, they've been doing their own repairs and Scotty turned out to be a qualified engineer on top of an illegal still operator. The basement's been enlarged, big enough to contain whatever it is Scotty and Bones can get up to. Frankly, Jim doesn't want to know and he trusts them enough not to blow the place down, so it's okay by him.
"Bones," he greets, and then, "hey, Scotty, you settling in?"
The good doctor mutters something about being a good doctor and not a welcoming party at him, while Scotty looks up with a grin.
"Hey there, Captain," he greets- and Jim's not quite sure how he got that title, but hey, it sounds good- "we're being pretty enterprising down here today, if I do say so meself."
"Great, that's great to hear. Anyway, Scotty, I need to ask you something. While you were managing your still and all, did you hear any news we could use? Anything about people making trouble, that sort of thing."
Because if they're making trouble, Jim would rather them be making trouble with him, he doesn't say.
"Well," Scotty starts, and thinks for a while. "Well then, I dare say the Russians have been up to all sorts, but ye dinnae hear that from me, you hear?"
"Sure thing. Anything else?"
"Oh, those Japs, well, they're always makin' some kind of fuss, them with their swords and all, giving us decent people trouble," Scotty replies.
Bones snorts, just to show what he thinks of being a decent person and Jim claps Scotty on the back. "Okay," he says. "I can work with that."
He goes over the plan later with Spock, letting the man correct all the illogical bits and give suggestions that make Jim thankful, really thankful that Spock is on his side rather than against. So the plan they work on ends up being six different kinds of crazy but totally logical at the same time, which is just the way he likes them.
So that's why, two days later, he's sitting down at a table with one of the Mafiya goons and one of the Yakuza goons and discussing business.
"Basically it goes like this," he says, flattening a map out on the table. "You see, here's the East Side and this- all of this- is what I want. You're here, so you're pretty much going to be operating in my area. Now there's no problem with that, it's a big part of town and and it'd be stupid if me and my friends were the only people there. So what I'm asking for is a ten percent cut of all your profits, one representative from each of your groups to join me and that if any trouble comes up, we can sit around a table and work this out like adults."
The two old men stare at him like he's gone nuts.
Jim sighs. "And if you're thinking, hey, what an idiot, let's kill him now, I guess I should add that if you do then my friends will blow up all of the safehouses of yours that we know about. You saw what happened to two of Nero's, so you know it's not something we're incapable of."
"What proof do you have that you know where those are?" the Japanese man asks, a sneer on his face.
"Nothing I'm telling you," Jim shrugs. "But you can always kill me and find out." He leans forward, grinning. "What do you think is a better bargain, huh? Getting to keep an eye on me and my friends and getting one of yours in my base for the small, small cost of ten percent off anything you earn, or not actually earning anything at all for the next year or so?"
They proceed to discuss the technicalities of this arrangement with a lot of posturing, but posturing is something that Jim's good at, and anyway, he worked out most of this conversation with Spock beforehand. In the event that the two groups he's talking with choose the illogical option (the chances of which are at 20%, Spock approximated), then Jim and co. really will blow up most of the town- which will put them in an advantageous position anyway. Not the most advantageous position, which is what he's proposing, but not a bad one, either.
"I have no intention of stopping here, anyway," Jim informs the two men. "So, you know, it'd be pretty smart of you guys to keep an eye on me." Which they'll do anyway, but like this, Jim can actually know who's doing it and when. "And I'm not the sort who goes back on my word."
An hour or two more of posturing later, Jim heads back, signatures in his hand and a happy smile on his face.
A day or two of nervous waiting later, Pavel Andreievich Chekov and Hikaru Sulu turn up on his doorstep.
---
Chekov is this kid who gets along amazingly with everyone and Sulu somehow manages to fit right in. Though they're certainly reporting to their own groups what Jim's getting up to, Jim's pretty confident he can turn them around to his way of seeing things before too long.
Anyway, he likes them, they're both pretty good kids. Uhura practically mothers Chekhov like- well, a mother, and Scotty seems to have taken him under his wing and begun attempting to teach him how to be a real man.
("Real men drink wodka," Chekov complains.
"Ah, now where I come from, we call that soda pop," Scotty says. "Now this here, aye, this is a man's drink."
Taking the offered drink, the kid gives it a go. "Scotch?" he says. "Huh. We inwented in Russia ages ago.")
Sulu, on the other hand, just joins Spock and him with the planning and Jim pretty quickly ends up giving the man a whole lot of responsibility. Neither him nor Chekov were actually very high up in their respective original organisations, but here and now, they've got a real chance that Jim is more than happy to give to them.
Though in the end, it does take months- a year and a half, to be exact- before they finally settle into their roles.
So between Sulu taking over command of the local gangs and pretty much turning out to be this wonderful taskmaster, Chekov helping Scotty out with building things what blow up amazingly, Uhura knowing everything about everyone, Bones abusing the entire crew and Spock just being himself, Jim's finding himself incredibly proud of all of them.
They've got different sections now dealing with different things and there's all sorts of administrative things to handle, but they're getting there. More than half the city's crime is under his control, the Romanians have been run out of town, and he makes sure that everything stays just the way he likes it. Whoever's under his protection stays protected, and he'll be damned if he'll let things get out of control.
It's actually pretty funny. The bit of the city that he's got his hands on ends up being safer to walk around in than the bit that he hasn't got his hands in. Spock figures that if he just hangs on and does nothing, the probability that the rest of the city will just capitulate and ask him to please do something about this little crime problem they have is greater than 50%. He doesn't question how Spock came by those numbers, though, and anyway, he's never been the sort to just hang on and do nothing.
Which is why, five years after he meets Spock, they make their move. It's a wonderful blend of bribery and blackmail, a simple enough method of ensuring that pretty much every goddamn politician and policeman in the city is somehow, in some way, pretty much working for him.
And that's when he knows he's made it.
---
James T. Kirk knows pretty much exactly what he looks like.
He's taller than average, and pretty fine looking with nice hair and good teeth. Girls like him, guys want to be like him, etc. He can pass for anywhere between twenty to twenty-five and he's outgrown any teenage awkwardness. He's got money now, too, so he dresses the part, all sharp suits and clean lines. The people around him add to the air- except maybe Bones, who never gives up his suspenders, and Scotty, who never lets go of the trenchcoat. Generally, though, as far as anyone looking at him is concerned, he's a well to do young man climbing his way to the top.
Which is good.
Suits him, really, he thinks, leaning back on the new couch they bought last week. Next to him, Spock is going over some report which he'll have to read later. Across the room, Uhura's singing to herself, and Jim thinks she's never looked better. Bones is yelling something from downstairs, which means everything's just peachy, because it's when Bones stops yelling that something is really not right. Scotty's probably off inspecting their latest purchase, a new car that he seems to have taken custody of, and Chekov and Sulu appear to be engaged in some sort of happy debate.
"Family," he says, and Spock glances over, before looking back at his report, and Jim laughs a little to himself.
He's got everything he ever wanted and damn, but it feels fine.
art by sidhefaer