When Destruction Paves the Way 1/5
Introduction: For the Jim_and_Bones Reel Com Challenge
Author: OpalineEgwene
Title: When Destruction Paves the Way
Rating: PG (may eventually be NC-17)
Warnings: None besides WIP and first time posting.
Beta: Apologies for any mistakes, this is unbeta’d.
Summary: Inspiration is “How to Lose a Guy in 10 days” which I have NOT seen, but have read the basic plotline at moviespoiler.com. Essentially Jim needs to convince Bones to follow him, Bones needs to get Jim to reject him, and they both fall for each other in the allotted month.
Disclaimer: JJ Abrams is a god and I do not own anything to do with Star Trek XI except the words on this page.
Leonard was on a bee-line for the exit after his first hospital shift ended, when Dr. Boyce called to him from behind. “Dr. McCoy. Come in my office and tell me about your first day at Starfleet.”
Leonard suppressed a sigh, and turned around. He had a lot of respect for the head of Starfleet Medical. Not only did Dr. Boyce have cutting edge research he wanted to join, but from what Leonard had experienced today, he also ran a tight ship from the surgeons on down to the janitors. Unfortunately, Leonard’s strong suit was not charm, so instead of the witty introduction he pictured in his head, his mouth said instead, “What do you want to know, sir? How ridiculously banal administrative deans can be? Or how appallingly stupid infant cadets can be?”
Dr. Boyce barked out a laugh and ushered him into his office, gesturing at a comfortable leather chair angled towards the desk. He ambled over to the sideboard and slid the door open to reveal a few crystal decanters and lowball tumblers. “Either or.”
“Well after signing what seemed to be a million of the same form, I had to sit through three hours of lectures which can be summed up to ‘you can find any information you need on your PADD.’”
Leonard plopped down in the armchair and kept going, letting his rant pick up steam in the face of Dr. Boyce’s interested and amused look. “And then I had an eight-hour shift during which I healed five lumbagos on cadets whose eyes are bigger than their muscles, set a full ulna break from when a cadet tried to catch a box that fell out a third story window, healed rug burn that went through the reticular dermis on a cadet that fell down the stairs but did not let go of the box he was carrying, and did reconstructive surgery on a ruptured spleen in a cadet that had another cadet toss her a full box. Are all the cadets really this stupid, sir?”
The grey-haired doctor chuckled and avoided the question for a moment. “Call me Phil. Sounds like you could use a soother. Whiskey or bourbon?”
Leonard quirked an eyebrow and responded, voice still liberally laced with sarcasm. “Thank you, Phil, but I’m not sure I should drink anymore. On top of everything else, it seems that I could get called back into rotation at a moment’s notice. I didn’t even know that I was on shift the first day until a nurse commed me.”
The older doctor looked chagrined. He poured his newest staff member a drink as well as one for himself, and then capped the unidentified decanter. “Sorry about that. That would be my fault.”
Dr. Boyce continued after handing Leonard his drink. “All fully qualified doctors are automatically assigned rotations in the scheduling system, and I’m afraid I must have forgotten to remove you from the schedule until classes officially start. And then you had the bad luck of shift on the first day. Have you even made it to your room yet?”
Leonard thoughtfully swirled his drink and took a sniff, before sipping the liquid and toasting his boss appreciatively. “I did. The one bright spot in my day. My apartment is gorgeous. Big, high-ceilings, lots of windows, overlooks the bay. Too bad I’ll have to share it with some child too young to shave, let alone have grown a little common sense.”
Dr. Boyce leaned back in his solid desk chair, framed by a window overlooking the central quad lawn. “Well you might be able to do something about that. You haven’t heard this from me, but we lose a lot of cadets by the end of the first month. The administration calls it orientation, the staff call it boot camp, and we call it hell month. I’ll do what I can to help you get through it, since I’m rather eager to have you join my research team. But if your roommate doesn’t drop out, if you can get him to request a transfer by the end of the month, you might get the apartment to yourself.”
Leonard spared a pang of curiosity for his faceless, nameless roommate before remembering the last few hours’ crazy, wholly preventable caseload in addition to the last few combative months co-existing with his ex-wife. Hardening his heart on his newfound plan to score a single, he lifted his tumbler of bourbon in a short, sardonic toast. “Here’s to surviving the first month and hoping certain others do not.”
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
When the stony-faced administrative assistant finally waved Jim into the inner office, he strolled in and sat in the high-backed leather chair facing the desk. Leaning forward he slid a PADD across the desk towards the man who had dared him to enter Starfleet less than twenty-four hours ago.
“Commander Pike, I’ve been looking at the schedule of required classes for Command track. I’ll need your approval to take some of the basic requirement prerequisites in parallel.”
Pike picked up the PADD and sat back in his own comfortable leather desk chair without looking at the aforementioned data. “Ah, Cadet Kirk, I suppose that you are trying to show initiative and dedication to your vow of 'I’ll do it in three' from this morning.”
Jim propped his elbows on his jean-clad knees and clasped his hands together, narrowing an intense blue stare at his superior officer. “Actually, sir, I am showing initiative and dedication. Now if you’ll look at this schedule I’ve drawn up, you will see that I only need a waiver for Basic Hand to Hand Combat, Intro to Basic Xenolinguistics, and Quantum Physics to start.”
Pike replied, “I suppose you think your participating in a one-versus-four fight last night is support for waiving the first requirement.”
“No, sir. I don't need you to waive the requirement. Just allow me to take it simultaneously with your Small Group Combat Strategy seminar.”
“Hmmm. And your argument for doing the same with IBX and Quantum Physics?”
“Sir, I can already hold a cursory conversation in over thirty of the official Starfleet languages. And I have a correspondence PhD in Quantum and Interstitial Physics from Yale. I can refer you to my thesis, if you would like.”
“I don’t think asking for a beer qualifies as basic conversation, Cadet Kirk. And I saw your thesis last night when I skimmed your record. But this is all beside the point. Not everything you need to become a captain will be from the textbook and professor.”
“Sir?” Jim sat up straighter and hiked an eyebrow inquiringly.
Pike gestured with the unread PADD at Jim’s blood-stained t-shirt and jeans. “Have you even gone to your dormitory to clean up yet after your big night last night, Cadet Kirk?”
Jim shrugged then cocked his head to the side. “Nah. I just went to the library after registration and started researching.”
Pike looked concerned and amused at the same time. “And did you try to meet any of your fellow classmates?”
Jim pulled a face. “I’ve met a few, but sorry, sir, except for one cadet I have not been that impressed.”
Pike raised an eyebrow in surprised inquiry. “And who is this lone exception, Cadet Kirk?”
“Cadet Uhura, sir.”
“She is very impressive, Kirk, and her CV is even more so.”
Jim nodded decisively. He was going to have to hunt her down and grovel a bit to apologize for the scene last night. The mysterious smile she granted him in the shuttle this morning was a good start, but Pike was right, he definitely wanted her on his side, “I agree, sir.”
Pike gave the twenty-something cadet an approving nod that made him sit up straighter. Not many people in Jim’s life had given him any sort of approval in person, and this officer was someone he was going to need in his corner if he would be able to execute his current curriculum. “Good. I expect you to find talent and encourage it. Even if, especially if, you have no facility in that person’s expertise. She is one of the more impressive acoustical engineers on this planet, cadet or no.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Speaking of impressive CV’s, what did you think of Dr. McCoy?”
Jim leaned into the question, not sure where Pike was going with his inquiry. “The crazy doctor on the shuttle?”
“Yes.”
“Uh, besides the fact he does not seem to have a compatible attitude with Starfleet?”
“Yes. Besides that. Although, that is a salient point, since I want him on my ship.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I did not research him. Why is he so outstanding?”
“Two reasons. One -- despite his relative youth, he is at the forefront of neural graft research in humans and has done some very impressive cross-collaboration with Vulcans and Andorians on xeno-neurology in surgeries. Two -- have you heard of the Atlanta hospital bombing about three years ago?”
“Only that terrorists took over a hospital and were taken down by some hero doctor. Don’t tell me McCoy was that doctor.”
“Apparently I don’t need to tell you. What you might not have heard is that in the aftermath he seized control of the medical operations of the search and rescue through the destroyed building and increased their efficiency by about 300%. That is the real reason why I want him on my ship.”
Pike leaned forward and patiently explained to the scruffy cadet facing him, “What we do in Starfleet is long, somewhat tedious stretches of research punctuated occasionally by diplomacy and emergency aid. We need Dr. McCoy and others like him, and we need him on the Enterprise. Right now he wants a research position planet side somewhere. That would be a waste of his talents.”
Pike leaned back again in his chair, stacking his elbows on the arms and steepling his fingers in front of his face. “I’ll make you a deal, Cadet Kirk. Your track plan for the year is not due until the end of the orientation month. In order for me to support your plan of graduating command track in three years, you need to show me that you have some talent for leadership. I need the good doctor to start planning his elective courses around a starship rather than a starbase assignment. At the end of the month, if you can convince him his best opportunity is on a ship, if you can convince him that your goal of a ship assignment is what he should also choose, I will waive any prerequisites you may encounter over the next three years.”
Jim spread his hands palms up, fingers splayed to underline his shock. “Sir! The man has acute aviophobia. There is no way I can get him into space once let alone make it his career goal. Give me a chance at success. Give me another target.”
Pike silenced him with a knowing look. “Oh, I think you have a good chance with Dr. McCoy. I heard you on the shuttle ride. He never vomited despite repeated threats to that effect, and I think it was mostly due to your diligence in keeping him distracted and relatively calm. With a little more coaching on your part, I think that you can successfully get him through the mandatory group inter-solar run at the end of orientation. That should make him a little more receptive to space.”
If possible, Jim looked even more skeptical. “Really? I just kept him ranting, half of which was directed at me and my totally minor wounds. I don’t think he even likes me. He’ll probably run the other way when he sees me and avoid all contact.”
Pike tossed the PADD back to Jim. “Well he cannot avoid all contact since he is your new roommate. You have a month, Cadet Kirk. Dismissed.”