Fic: Candy HEarts (PG)
Prompt: Number 8 at Jim and Bones
Rating: PG
Warnings: Nothing, Really, other than poor writing.
Word Count:
Summary: Things Come up that ruin Jim and bones’ Valentine’s day plans.
A/N: None, really. Beta’d by one lovely lady who shall remain nameless, and she knows who she is, and the lovely alluranna. ALso, the companion form Jim's POV is here.
--------
It all started with one of those unnecessarily pink, flimsy paper, obnoxious boxes of the god-awful, hard and chalky heart-shaped pieces of nothing-but-sugar. In retrospect, Len should have seen it coming.
“So Uhura thinks that we should have some kind of dance or something, but I told her it was too cheesy.” Jim babbled on from his perch on the CMO’s desk, “But I do think we should have some kind of celebration.” Leonard rolled his eyes.
“How about you give out blowjobs like Valentine’s cards. That should pique someone’s interest.” The doctor offered, tone dry as a deserts.
“Ha ha, funny, Bones.” Jim said, his tone also humorless, “But I thought it would be cool to do something nice. Deck out one of the cargo bays like a fancy restaurant or something.”
“And waste the time and effort of those who aren’t in a relationship?”
“What is up with you, Bones? You’re extra bitchy today.”
“Jim, I have two patients dying of a virus for which I can’t find a damn cure for.” Leonard glared at his captain, “But seeing as we’re both on duty, I can’t exactly tell you to get the hell out without being at risk of a court martial for mutiny.”
So maybe he had been a little harsh. Then again, how was he supposed to know then what Jim was planning in his mischievous head?
The crunching was unnerving. Every piece of seasonal confectionery that was popped into Jim’s mouth was followed by a large crunch that Len knew had to have hurt Jim’s teeth with as many as he’d ingested. Hell, not just his teeth, he’d probably be sick within the hour if he kept eating them at this rate. What was even more bothersome was the fact that Jim had to read every single one aloud as he ate the damn things.
He could just picture it, Jim fishing around with his calloused hands in the box, inspecting the centimeter sized heart and reading it with that damn fool grin before crunching down on it like a damned nutcracker.
“Are you actually going to eat some lunch or just that candy for a meal?” Len offered, spearing a few more pieces of lettuce from his plate. “Do you know how many calories are in these?”
“Too many, now eat your sandwich.” Jim sighed theatrically, but sat the box down regardless.
“Fine, mom, but afterward can I please finish my candy?” He asked.
“You certainly can, Jimmy.” The doctor retorted. They ate in silence, until a lone green heart landed on Leoanrd’s napkin. The words ‘Love You’ were stamped on it.
Leonard took the moment to offer a genuine smile. “You too, Jim.”
They may taste bad, but it was the thought that counted, and the gesture really was sweet. If only it hadn’t been a sign of things to come.
The day that marked February 12th, Abraham Lincoln’s birthday, Len recalled, came with an urgent call from Starfleet. Klingons had entered the neutral zone, and the Enterprise was to report immediately to deal with the situation.
Six hours worth of travel on full alert, Len prepared sickbay to take in injured. Normally, he didn’t think so pessimistically, but the Klingons had been increasingly restless, and knowing Jim, a confrontation would surely mean trouble.
The first lurch of the ship confirmed Len’s suspicions. Soon after, patients began limping in. Nothing serious, a few broken limbs, one minor concussion, results that could have come from any minor impact, but gradually, the number of new patients lessened.
The situation had taken a turn for the worse. The Enterprise was locked in battle with a Klingon bird of prey. Casualty reports began flowing in and Len made a list, shaking his head as it stretched on between the ship shaking from impact and drastically injured crewmembers being hauled in.
And then everything stopped and Chekov’s voice echoed over the ship’s comm, “The Klingon wessel has been destroyed. All injured are to be taken to sickbay immediately and able crew are instructed to gauge repairs that must be done to their respective stations. Dr. McCoy, please report to the bridge. Thank you.”
The kid’s voice was cut off and a knowing glance from Chapel had McCoy headed for the turbo lift.
There was a preliminary fear, at that announcement, that Jim had been hurt. Looking back, the event was part of what now drives Len to be a little more optimistic. At the time, though, the thought hadn’t occurred to him.
Len’s eyes went directly for the command chair, and relief settled in when the blond was sitting there, injured but not badly, looking a little harrowed. “Jim.” Len spoke, startling the captain out of his gaze ahead. The captain stood,
“Ready room?”
Leonard, startled, managed to offer, “Sure.”
Jim’s request had been even more startling, but blind trust motivated Len to listen without thinking, as it always had with Jim.
With the doors shut behind them, Len asked, “Are you okay?” without thinking, approaching Jim and reaching a hand to the bloody scrape across his forehead.
“Yeah, ‘m fine.” Jim offered half of a cocky grin, pulling Len’s hand away but not letting go. “Are you okay? I thought you could use a few minutes to collect yourself. I know how you get when Sickbay is drowning.”
“Jim, I don’t have time for this, half of your crew is dead or injured, and-” He was cut off by Jim’s sigh,
“I’m glad you weren’t hurt.” Jim’s words made Len’s excuse unnecessary. The doctor took a breath and kissed Jim on the cheek,
“I have to go.” Len said with a hint of an affectionate smile.
Knowing Jim was worried kind of opened up the kid in a new light, so to speak. Being in love with Jim for about four years, it was still possible to miss things about him. And it wasn’t because Jim was hiding them… at least, Len didn’t think so.
Len sighed and let his head list back against the wall. Almost two hours had gone by until he had finished Alpha shift, and Jim was supposed to have finished his own, but Jim was still in his conference room. The door was locked, and only medical emergency code was able to unlock it. Leonard knew he could have, but Jim was locked in there for a reason.
Three hours passed and he gives up. Fuck it, he was tired and Jim obviously has no desire to fulfill prior commitments. Whoever he’s conferencing with must be awfully damn important.
Not to mention, on the ship, Len always felt at home only when he was in his quarters in his bed. Jim’s quarters were alright, but his were the best. One shower and bourbon later, Len collapsed into his pillow with wet hair and a bare chest above his flannel pajama pants. Sleep wasn’t far behind and felt good.
Felt good, that is, until Jim’s grim voice came on shipwide broadcast. “This is your captain speaking, we’ll be redirecting toward Fasmar II immediately for diplomatic negotiations in order to resolve an impending civil revolution. All special holiday events are postponed, unfortunately. As you were.”
Leonard groaned, he could tell Jim was not pleased, and he wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon.
The not-sleeping wasn’t all that bad, though the not-talking was pretty bad. Jim had seemed flat-out upset about the diplomatic mission, even though he usually lived for the fast-pace unexpectedness of captaincy.
An hour before beam down, Len decided Jim needed a talking-to. Chapel couldn’t do anything but gape when he told her to take over and promptly walked out in the distinct direction of the Transporter room. Jim was there, as expected, laughing with Scotty. He looked up immediately when Len positioned himself in the doorway silently,
“Hey Bones.”
“Jim. Can I talk to you?” Jim nodded and flashed a brilliant smile and moved out into the hall. “Look, I know things aren’t going like you planned.”
Jim shook his head, “It’s fine, Bones. Not a big deal.”
“If you say so, but, you know you can just do it another day. After this is over.” Len offered, Jim shrugged,
“I told you it’s not a big deal, Bones. Mountain out of a molehill.”
“Oh, don’t act like you haven’t been damn upset since that announcement last night.”
“Maybe you’re getting upset, Bones.”
“Jim, I don’t care about this damn holiday, but I know you well enough to understand-“ Jim kissed him.
“It’s fine, Bones. I’ll be back in no time. I’m not going to get hurt, I’m not gonna stay there, so stop being so tense.” Jim looked amused and stepped back into the transporter room.
Jim was definitely upset. The problem is, when he puts on his captain pants, he seems to think that he’s turned into a damn hobgoblin like Spock.
Chapel kicked Leonard out of Sickbay an hour before Beta shift was over. According to the nurse he was “being such an ass he was at risk of growing hooves”. He had made his way to Jim’s quarters accidentally and groaned. Having not paid attention, he was now three decks away from his own quarters.
Jim had always told Leonard he was welcome anytime, and the doctor wasn’t about to comm down to Jim to ask. So… Fuck it, if Jim didn’t like it he’d deal with it later. He punched the Captain’s entry code and stepped in, feeling like a stranger in a room he spent about half of his off-duty time in.
“Lights, seventy percent.” He offered, and the room lit up. He glanced around Jim’s unusually quiet quarters. The room was everything it usually was; dirty clothes, unmade bed, desk cluttered, old books unshelved. Leonard did the only thing he thought was reasonable: he began to clean up. He wasn’t tired, even though he’d had the later shift. Dirty clothes, mostly Jim’s but a few of his own, went into the chute. Clothes cleaned up, he headed for Jim’s desk and began to shuffle PADDs and trinkets around to some semblance of order. In the process, a box of hearts fell off the desk with a chalky rattle.
The doctor bent to pick up the pink box, and in the process flipped it in his hand, coming to face black block-lettering of his name on the front. Stitching his brows together, he inspected the box. It had been opened, and so he unfolded the thick paper flaps and pulled one out, inspecting it. The candy was green, and had those capital red letters stamped on it, that read ‘Marry me’.
Just because the box had his name on it, didn’t necessarily mean Jim wanted him to have it yet.. He stuck the sweet back in its box and closed it back up before tossing it on the desk and seating himself in the chair. Staring the box down, Leonard couldn’t help but notice that all of the hearts in the box were green and white-his favorite colors.
So maybe it was for him, but he didn’t want them, at all. Jim knew he didn’t like candy. He sat the box up roughly and wondered what made Jim, in his right mind, want to give Len candy. It may have been Valentine’s Day, but he was sure he made it obvious that Romulan Ale would be much better at conveying Jim’s feelings.
Well, if he was going to clean up, he may as well finish. Clean sheets were next. As he tossed the dirties in the chute and replicated clean ones, he couldn’t help but eye that pink and red box like it was going to jump off the desk and stab him in the back. The doctor slowly stretched clean white sheets on to the mattress and didn’t even finish before he was back over to that box, this time, flipping it so its contents spilled out on the desktop. The green and white hearts scattered instantly, but after they stopped moving they left in their wake a gold ring that had yet to settle on the hard surface.
It was at that moment that he realized that every green heart had the same two words on them.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Nothing, Really, other than poor writing.
Word Count:
Summary: Things Come up that ruin Jim and bones’ Valentine’s day plans.
A/N: None, really. Beta’d by one lovely lady who shall remain nameless, and she knows who she is, and the lovely alluranna. ALso, the companion form Jim's POV is here.
--------
It all started with one of those unnecessarily pink, flimsy paper, obnoxious boxes of the god-awful, hard and chalky heart-shaped pieces of nothing-but-sugar. In retrospect, Len should have seen it coming.
“So Uhura thinks that we should have some kind of dance or something, but I told her it was too cheesy.” Jim babbled on from his perch on the CMO’s desk, “But I do think we should have some kind of celebration.” Leonard rolled his eyes.
“How about you give out blowjobs like Valentine’s cards. That should pique someone’s interest.” The doctor offered, tone dry as a deserts.
“Ha ha, funny, Bones.” Jim said, his tone also humorless, “But I thought it would be cool to do something nice. Deck out one of the cargo bays like a fancy restaurant or something.”
“And waste the time and effort of those who aren’t in a relationship?”
“What is up with you, Bones? You’re extra bitchy today.”
“Jim, I have two patients dying of a virus for which I can’t find a damn cure for.” Leonard glared at his captain, “But seeing as we’re both on duty, I can’t exactly tell you to get the hell out without being at risk of a court martial for mutiny.”
So maybe he had been a little harsh. Then again, how was he supposed to know then what Jim was planning in his mischievous head?
The crunching was unnerving. Every piece of seasonal confectionery that was popped into Jim’s mouth was followed by a large crunch that Len knew had to have hurt Jim’s teeth with as many as he’d ingested. Hell, not just his teeth, he’d probably be sick within the hour if he kept eating them at this rate. What was even more bothersome was the fact that Jim had to read every single one aloud as he ate the damn things.
He could just picture it, Jim fishing around with his calloused hands in the box, inspecting the centimeter sized heart and reading it with that damn fool grin before crunching down on it like a damned nutcracker.
“Are you actually going to eat some lunch or just that candy for a meal?” Len offered, spearing a few more pieces of lettuce from his plate. “Do you know how many calories are in these?”
“Too many, now eat your sandwich.” Jim sighed theatrically, but sat the box down regardless.
“Fine, mom, but afterward can I please finish my candy?” He asked.
“You certainly can, Jimmy.” The doctor retorted. They ate in silence, until a lone green heart landed on Leoanrd’s napkin. The words ‘Love You’ were stamped on it.
Leonard took the moment to offer a genuine smile. “You too, Jim.”
They may taste bad, but it was the thought that counted, and the gesture really was sweet. If only it hadn’t been a sign of things to come.
The day that marked February 12th, Abraham Lincoln’s birthday, Len recalled, came with an urgent call from Starfleet. Klingons had entered the neutral zone, and the Enterprise was to report immediately to deal with the situation.
Six hours worth of travel on full alert, Len prepared sickbay to take in injured. Normally, he didn’t think so pessimistically, but the Klingons had been increasingly restless, and knowing Jim, a confrontation would surely mean trouble.
The first lurch of the ship confirmed Len’s suspicions. Soon after, patients began limping in. Nothing serious, a few broken limbs, one minor concussion, results that could have come from any minor impact, but gradually, the number of new patients lessened.
The situation had taken a turn for the worse. The Enterprise was locked in battle with a Klingon bird of prey. Casualty reports began flowing in and Len made a list, shaking his head as it stretched on between the ship shaking from impact and drastically injured crewmembers being hauled in.
And then everything stopped and Chekov’s voice echoed over the ship’s comm, “The Klingon wessel has been destroyed. All injured are to be taken to sickbay immediately and able crew are instructed to gauge repairs that must be done to their respective stations. Dr. McCoy, please report to the bridge. Thank you.”
The kid’s voice was cut off and a knowing glance from Chapel had McCoy headed for the turbo lift.
There was a preliminary fear, at that announcement, that Jim had been hurt. Looking back, the event was part of what now drives Len to be a little more optimistic. At the time, though, the thought hadn’t occurred to him.
Len’s eyes went directly for the command chair, and relief settled in when the blond was sitting there, injured but not badly, looking a little harrowed. “Jim.” Len spoke, startling the captain out of his gaze ahead. The captain stood,
“Ready room?”
Leonard, startled, managed to offer, “Sure.”
Jim’s request had been even more startling, but blind trust motivated Len to listen without thinking, as it always had with Jim.
With the doors shut behind them, Len asked, “Are you okay?” without thinking, approaching Jim and reaching a hand to the bloody scrape across his forehead.
“Yeah, ‘m fine.” Jim offered half of a cocky grin, pulling Len’s hand away but not letting go. “Are you okay? I thought you could use a few minutes to collect yourself. I know how you get when Sickbay is drowning.”
“Jim, I don’t have time for this, half of your crew is dead or injured, and-” He was cut off by Jim’s sigh,
“I’m glad you weren’t hurt.” Jim’s words made Len’s excuse unnecessary. The doctor took a breath and kissed Jim on the cheek,
“I have to go.” Len said with a hint of an affectionate smile.
Knowing Jim was worried kind of opened up the kid in a new light, so to speak. Being in love with Jim for about four years, it was still possible to miss things about him. And it wasn’t because Jim was hiding them… at least, Len didn’t think so.
Len sighed and let his head list back against the wall. Almost two hours had gone by until he had finished Alpha shift, and Jim was supposed to have finished his own, but Jim was still in his conference room. The door was locked, and only medical emergency code was able to unlock it. Leonard knew he could have, but Jim was locked in there for a reason.
Three hours passed and he gives up. Fuck it, he was tired and Jim obviously has no desire to fulfill prior commitments. Whoever he’s conferencing with must be awfully damn important.
Not to mention, on the ship, Len always felt at home only when he was in his quarters in his bed. Jim’s quarters were alright, but his were the best. One shower and bourbon later, Len collapsed into his pillow with wet hair and a bare chest above his flannel pajama pants. Sleep wasn’t far behind and felt good.
Felt good, that is, until Jim’s grim voice came on shipwide broadcast. “This is your captain speaking, we’ll be redirecting toward Fasmar II immediately for diplomatic negotiations in order to resolve an impending civil revolution. All special holiday events are postponed, unfortunately. As you were.”
Leonard groaned, he could tell Jim was not pleased, and he wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon.
The not-sleeping wasn’t all that bad, though the not-talking was pretty bad. Jim had seemed flat-out upset about the diplomatic mission, even though he usually lived for the fast-pace unexpectedness of captaincy.
An hour before beam down, Len decided Jim needed a talking-to. Chapel couldn’t do anything but gape when he told her to take over and promptly walked out in the distinct direction of the Transporter room. Jim was there, as expected, laughing with Scotty. He looked up immediately when Len positioned himself in the doorway silently,
“Hey Bones.”
“Jim. Can I talk to you?” Jim nodded and flashed a brilliant smile and moved out into the hall. “Look, I know things aren’t going like you planned.”
Jim shook his head, “It’s fine, Bones. Not a big deal.”
“If you say so, but, you know you can just do it another day. After this is over.” Len offered, Jim shrugged,
“I told you it’s not a big deal, Bones. Mountain out of a molehill.”
“Oh, don’t act like you haven’t been damn upset since that announcement last night.”
“Maybe you’re getting upset, Bones.”
“Jim, I don’t care about this damn holiday, but I know you well enough to understand-“ Jim kissed him.
“It’s fine, Bones. I’ll be back in no time. I’m not going to get hurt, I’m not gonna stay there, so stop being so tense.” Jim looked amused and stepped back into the transporter room.
Jim was definitely upset. The problem is, when he puts on his captain pants, he seems to think that he’s turned into a damn hobgoblin like Spock.
Chapel kicked Leonard out of Sickbay an hour before Beta shift was over. According to the nurse he was “being such an ass he was at risk of growing hooves”. He had made his way to Jim’s quarters accidentally and groaned. Having not paid attention, he was now three decks away from his own quarters.
Jim had always told Leonard he was welcome anytime, and the doctor wasn’t about to comm down to Jim to ask. So… Fuck it, if Jim didn’t like it he’d deal with it later. He punched the Captain’s entry code and stepped in, feeling like a stranger in a room he spent about half of his off-duty time in.
“Lights, seventy percent.” He offered, and the room lit up. He glanced around Jim’s unusually quiet quarters. The room was everything it usually was; dirty clothes, unmade bed, desk cluttered, old books unshelved. Leonard did the only thing he thought was reasonable: he began to clean up. He wasn’t tired, even though he’d had the later shift. Dirty clothes, mostly Jim’s but a few of his own, went into the chute. Clothes cleaned up, he headed for Jim’s desk and began to shuffle PADDs and trinkets around to some semblance of order. In the process, a box of hearts fell off the desk with a chalky rattle.
The doctor bent to pick up the pink box, and in the process flipped it in his hand, coming to face black block-lettering of his name on the front. Stitching his brows together, he inspected the box. It had been opened, and so he unfolded the thick paper flaps and pulled one out, inspecting it. The candy was green, and had those capital red letters stamped on it, that read ‘Marry me’.
Just because the box had his name on it, didn’t necessarily mean Jim wanted him to have it yet.. He stuck the sweet back in its box and closed it back up before tossing it on the desk and seating himself in the chair. Staring the box down, Leonard couldn’t help but notice that all of the hearts in the box were green and white-his favorite colors.
So maybe it was for him, but he didn’t want them, at all. Jim knew he didn’t like candy. He sat the box up roughly and wondered what made Jim, in his right mind, want to give Len candy. It may have been Valentine’s Day, but he was sure he made it obvious that Romulan Ale would be much better at conveying Jim’s feelings.
Well, if he was going to clean up, he may as well finish. Clean sheets were next. As he tossed the dirties in the chute and replicated clean ones, he couldn’t help but eye that pink and red box like it was going to jump off the desk and stab him in the back. The doctor slowly stretched clean white sheets on to the mattress and didn’t even finish before he was back over to that box, this time, flipping it so its contents spilled out on the desktop. The green and white hearts scattered instantly, but after they stopped moving they left in their wake a gold ring that had yet to settle on the hard surface.
It was at that moment that he realized that every green heart had the same two words on them.