FIC: Future Imperfect (12/16) (Kirk/McCoy, dystopic AU)
Title: Future Imperfect (12/16)
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: Mature (this part)
Word count: 3,145
Warnings: Reference to past child sexual and emotional abuse; slavery "light"
Thanks: To cordelianne, who is making arrangements for our Oahu sightseeing!
Notes: This story takes place in the same time period as the 2009 movie (and will roughly follow its events), but imagines the future as a eugenic dystopia. Technically unbeta'd, so feel free to point out typos. I know it's been a terribly long time since I last updated, but I'm very excited to find that I am indeed capable of writing again (after months of post-dissertation/cross-country move writing hangover) and to offer you this chapter. Of course, I'm headed to Hawaii tomorrow for a little honeymoon, so there may be a (more slight) delay in the writing of the next chapter, but I can't say I'm too sorry about that...
Summary: Leonard wins the kid in a hand of poker. A hand of poker he plays in the dirty back room of a dive bar in East Bumfuck, Iowa, two weeks after his humiliating divorce is finalized, and on the sixth day of a bourbon-fueled bender that’s somehow taken him from his high-rise loft in Atlanta to a fleabag motel in the middle of nowhere.
Previous parts here.
Jim wakes up sometime in the early morning hours. He and Bones have moved apart in their sleep, which isn’t unusual, but as Jim lies there, he feels a spark of fear rising in his chest.
But it’s not about looking back this time; it’s about looking forward.
Bones was a good listener - no, a great listener - and Jim knows (like he’s always known) that he has a place here as long as he wants it.
What he doesn’t know is how Bones will see him now, knowing where Jim has been, what Jim has done.
Even if Bones really doesn’t blame him (and there’s a part of Jim that still finds that almost impossible to believe), it doesn’t guarantee that Bones will still want him.
It’s been a long time since Jim wanted to be wanted.
Jim is still lying awake who knows how long later when Bones rolls over and reaches for him in the darkness.
Before he can talk himself out of it, Jim slides closer, pushes his body into Bones hands.
He needs to know.
With everything he lost to Frank - everything Frank took from him - Jim needs to know he’s got something left. Jim needs to know there’s something that’s still his to give.
And he needs to know that it’s something someone like Bones could desire.
Jim’s breath is caught in his throat as Bones begins to stir, becomes aware of what’s happening, what Jim is seeking.
He doesn’t pull away, but… “You don’t have to…” Bones begins in a raspy whisper.
“I choose to,” Jim says.
“I don’t expect-”
Jim stops the words with fingertips over Bones’ lips. “I know, but if I don’t get to choose now, then he really did take everything.”
Bones is still for a second, then he reaches out and tugs Jim over top of him, letting Jim know that Jim’s the one in charge here.
But even as Jim is opening Bones up, even as Jim’s moving inside of him, it feels less about taking and more about giving.
Giving as freely as he’s ever been able.
And Bones - somehow Bones takes in everything Jim has to offer and then gives it all right back again.
And then some.
Pike advances. Jim feints.
“I want to take the test again,” Jim announces. It’s been a couple of days since he opened up to Bones and suddenly things are starting to feel…possible.
Pike overcommits. Jim catches his leg in a sweep and brings him down, pinning Pike to the mat with no small sense of satisfaction.
Pike’s smile is something Jim’s always imagined you might see on a father’s face. Jim grins back before he can think better of it.
He offers Pike a hand up and then turns away to grab a bottle of water and collect himself.
Shields, he thinks. His are definitely not operating on full power. And yet…
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Pike says. “You and McCoy kiss and make up?”
Jim downs a few gulps of water. “Maybe you should get a love life of your own,” he suggests. “Keep your mind off of mine.”
“A ‘love life,’ is it now?” Pike teases. “Not an ‘arrangement’? Not an ‘understanding’?”
Jim turns around to shake his head at Pike, but it’s a mistake. Pike’s eyes widen at whatever he sees on Jim’s face.
“Wait a minute,” he says. “You and McCoy didn’t just kiss and make up. You actually talked to him, didn’t you?”
“Not about this,” Jim says, and feels a twinge of regret for all the secrets that still stand between them.
“But about something,” Pike counters with far too much certainty.
Jim looks down, embarrassed. “I thought you wanted my mind on practice,” he points out, but he can’t seem to stop smiling. He feels…lighter than he has in years.
“Knowing how to fight is only half the battle,” Pike says. “The other half’s having something to fight for.”
“You know, if you were getting laid, you probably wouldn’t have as much time to spend watching inspirational holovids…”
“Brat,” Pike mutters. “I’ll find a way to make you an officer someday, if only so you’ll have to show me some respect.”
“You wouldn’t like me nearly as much if it was that easy,” Jim says, and isn’t that half the reason he’s learned to trust Pike? Or Bones for that matter? They’re two of the only people he’s ever met who’ve actually tried to earn his respect. “Now, about that test…”
About that test.
Well, one thing Jim can say for his second attempt at the Kobyashi Maru is that it lasted longer.
Everyone still died, but much more slowly.
Yay?
Pike seems pleased, though, and praises Jim’s creativity.
Not creative enough, Jim thinks, but it’s followed by: Not yet.
“What are you doing, Eleen?” McCoy snaps. “Can’t you see she still loves you?”
“Oh, come on, she’s pregnant with Akaar’s child. What’s she going to do?”
Bones heaves a sigh of disgust and stands up to pour himself another drink. “Want another beer?” he asks from the kitchen.
“Yeah, thanks,” Jim says. “Pause playback.” The holo stops.
They’re already on their tenth episode of Friday’s Child this weekend, it being summertime and all, and the show is either getting really good or really bad.
Jim’s pretty sure he’s lost all perspective.
There’s a part of Jim that wishes the summer would never end. Bones doesn’t have to study and Jim doesn’t have to sneak off to meet up with Pike (because he’s traveling). They’re out of the Patronship housing again. It feels like they’ve got all the time and space in the world to pretend they’re not who they are.
To be nothing but together.
It’s the closest to happy Jim’s ever felt.
Bones returns from the kitchen, stops in front of Jim to hand him the beer. And stays.
“Hey,” Jim says, “you’re blocking the show.”
“Mmm,” Bones murmurs, “am I?”
Bones seems close to happy, too. Lighter, more playful. That raw sort of need has faded from his eyes.
Sure, Jim imagines Bones still has questions about Jim, and frustrations, but apparently one big, dark secret goes a long way because Bones hasn’t pressed him for anything since.
“Of course, the new view isn’t half bad,” Jim observes as he stares directly at Bones’ crotch. “A bit…obstructed.”
“I could fix that,” Bones says, reaching down with the hand that isn’t holding his bourbon and deftly unfastening his own fly. “Better?”
“Almost,” Jim says. “Just let me…” He uses the hand not holding the beer to draw Bones’ cock out through his boxer briefs.
He takes a moment, then, contemplating the dick in his one hand and the beer in his other. Licks his lips.
“Tough choice?” Bones asks.
Jim smirks. “Not really.”
He brings the beer bottle to his lips, tilts it back, and downs the whole thing in one long swallow, watching Bones watch the movements of his throat.
Bones chuckles, low and warm.
Then the chuckle turns to a gasp as Jim sets down the beer bottle and slides out of his chair, drops to his knees and swallows something else entirely.
The start of a new year at the academy (their third now) is another rude awakening. Back in the Patronship dorms, it’s another batch of entitled cadets, another group of ill-used Non-mods, and a steady flow of patients for their secret clinic.
Bones’ new class schedule is a bitch, though, and Jim knows enough first aid now to handle most of the basic cases. Which means he’s running the operation on his own as often as not.
He misses watching Bones work, but it gives him a chance to get to know the patients away from Bones or any other prying eyes.
Jim takes the opportunity to learn what they’re capable of.
Or, in some cases, to teach them.
Eventually, Jim meets a new arrival whose hacking skills put his own to shame.
He decides it’s time to take one last shot at the Kobyashi Maru.
Jim allows himself a small smirk as the power in the simulation room flickers off and back on again.
“Arm photons,” Jim says. “Prepare to fire on the Klingon warbirds.”
“Captain, their shields are still up,” Pike points out, his tone dry.
“Are they?” Jim asks.
Pike double checks his monitor. “No,” he says, almost to himself. “They’re not.”
Jim nods his satisfaction. “Fire on all enemy ships. One photon each should do it,” he can’t resist adding, “so don't waste ammunition.”
Pike rolls his eyes, but carries out the order, seeing the simulation through. “All ships destroyed,” he announces.
“Begin rescue of the stranded crew,” Jim orders, and then, by way of victory lap: “So, we've managed to eliminate all enemy ships, no one onboard was injured, and the successful rescue of the Kobayashi Maru crew is underway.”
Pike just shakes his head and chuckles. “Well, it’s a creative solution, Kirk, I’ll give you that. Care to let me in on your secret?”
“Let’s just say I’ve learned to tap into a hidden talent pool.”
“I’m impressed,” Pike admits, “and I don’t need any names just yet. Just remember to be careful, okay? We don’t want to raise suspicions before we-”
The sudden beeping of the security lock is their only warning.
Their eyes lock for a fraction of a second and then they’re both in motion.
They have maybe three seconds before somebody walks in and catches the illustrious Captain Pike in the very illegal act of training a Non-mod for revolution. Jim springs from the captain’s chair and starts tearing off his shirt. Pike quickly follows suit. When they’re both bare-chested, Jim pushes Pike into the chair he just vacated, straddles his lap, and starts kissing him.
They pretend not even to have heard the door open, only breaking apart when one of the two security personnel clears his throat.
Pike’s expression conveys authority and annoyance. “The door was locked for a reason. Can I help you ensigns with something?”
Jim doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t move from Pike’s lap either, letting the intimate position continue to serve as a distraction.
“Excuse us, sir. We received an alert that an unauthorized simulation was being run.”
Pike’s expression shifts from annoyed to sheepish. “Unauthorized? Aw, come on, a grounded captain can’t run a simulation when he feels like it now?”
The ensign’s eyes flicker over Jim and then away. He looks off at a point in the corner. “With all due respect, sir, we would leave right now if you were alone, but you can’t have a Non-mod here. This is a restricted area.”
As well they both know. Jim also knows that it was most likely his hack of the test that overrode the blocks Pike had in place to ensure their secrecy, setting off the alert. He wants to kick himself.
“You’re right, of course.” Pike lowers his voice to take on a conspiratorial tone. “I didn’t think it would hurt. I just had this little…scenario I’d been wanting to try out. Been missing the chair, is all.”
A moment of silence greets the comment, as all sorts of kinky “scenarios” no doubt flash through the two ensigns’ minds. Still, they don’t budge. Though obviously uncomfortable, they’re clearly dedicated to doing their job.
“Sir,” the second one says, trying hard to keep her eyes on Pike’s face and away from any naked torsos, “we appreciate your desire for, uh, privacy, but I’m afraid we can’t let you stay here.”
Pike waves a hand. “Yes, yes, fine, we’ll finish up and get out. Thank you for your diligence.”
It’s a clear dismissal, but it has no effect. The woman speaks again. “I’m afraid we’re going to need to file a report and clear the room, sir.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“The first incident report is already registered, sir,” the man says, apologetic but firm. “We have to follow up.”
The woman approaches Jim and holds out a small PADD. He reaches out and presses his thumb against the surface. It beeps and the woman turns it back to face her.
“James Kirk,” she says. “Registered to Cadet Leonard McCoy.”
Jim nods.
“Is he aware that you’re here?”
Jim would do anything to leave Bones out of this, but there’s only one right answer to that question and it isn’t ‘no.’
“Of course,” Jim answers, with his best imitation of deference. “Well, not here here,” he adds, feigning shame. “He wouldn’t want us to break the rules. But he does offer Captain Pike some of my time on occasion.”
“The doctor and I have an understanding,” Pike adds.
Jim looks down like he’s embarrassed. He hates how creepy this story makes Bones and Pike sound, but it’s far from a far-fetched scenario, and right now they really just need a way out of this that won’t get all three of them thrown out of Starfleet.
Or worse.
“Are we done here?” Pike asks, calm and authoritative, like he’s inconvenienced but not panicked.
The woman shakes her head. “I’m afraid not, sir. We’re going to have to speak with Cadet McCoy.”
The security personnel insist on returning Jim to his - well, to Cadet McCoy’s - apartment. (After all, the word of a Non-mod is worse than useless on an official report.)
Pike insists on accompanying them there - “Just to make sure everything gets cleared up.”
Of course, Bones isn’t actually home this time of day, which means he has to be commed and asked to come back.
Which means waiting.
Which means a whole lot of awkward silence.
“Can I get anyone a coffee? Tea? Light snack?” Jim asks, because he only ever feels like playing subservient at the least appropriate times.
Pike shoots him a glare.
No one else bothers to respond.
Bones arrives after half an hour, out of breath and obviously freaked out.
Jim catches a brief instant of relief sweep over Bones’ face when he takes in Jim’s form, which it isn’t red and puffy or otherwise near death. But the panic returns half a second later as Bones takes in the security personnel flanking Jim. In a moment the rest of the room probably misses, Jim watches Bones put aside that panic and paste on a poker face.
In keeping with protocol, Bones acknowledges Pike first, “Captain,” then nods to security, “Sirs.” He keeps his eyes on them and away from Jim. “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. I hope there isn’t a problem.”
“We found your charge in a restricted area,” the man informs him, “but Captain Pike has claimed responsibility for that breach. We will expect that not to happen again.”
“However,” the woman continues, “we must also confirm that your charge was, as he has stated, in the company of Captain Pike at your request.”
The woman looks at Bones and Bones looks back at her. Jim can feel the tightness in his chest that must mean he forgot to keep breathing somewhere along the way.
“Yes,” Bones says, “of course.” Then, when neither security ensign speaks: “I don’t really need his…services during the day, so I’m happy to let the captain borrow him for a bit.”
It almost frightens Jim how credible Bones sounds, how much he’s learned about the kind of thing that’s expected from people like him. But at least the security ensigns are nodding and moving away from Jim, heading for the door.
Still, Jim doesn’t dare breathe yet.
The door shuts, leaving Jim, Bones, and Pike in the room. Pike opens his mouth to speak, but Bones cuts him off.
“Get out,” he says.
“Doctor McCoy, if you’ll just give me a moment to-”
“Get. Out.”
“Cadet…” Pike begins, but Bones is having none of it.
“I said, ‘Get out,’ and I damn well meant it. Write me up for insubordination if you have to, but do it from somewhere that isn’t my fucking room.”
Pike closes his mouth and nods. On his way out, he casts Jim a final look and Jim knows exactly what Pike is worried about - that Jim isn’t going to use this opportunity to come clean with Bones.
Jim’s fear is just the opposite - that he will come clean. That he won’t be able to make it through this conversation without confessing it all, thereby making Bones a co-conspirator to whatever reckless, rebellious thing Jim eventually does that will probably get him (and then maybe Bones) killed.
Meanwhile, Bones isn’t saying anything, doesn’t seem to know what to say now that he’s thrown Pike out, so Jim starts with the truest thing he can.
“I’m sorry about that. Thanks for covering for us.”
“Us,” Bones repeats, slowly, like the word is sinking slowly into his soul. “You and Pike.”
Denying it would require an alternate explanation. Jim shrugs instead.
To his surprise, the first thing Bones does is jump to Jim’s defense. “What did he do, Jim? Did he use his position? Threaten you? Offer you something? Because I swear, if he-”
Jim shakes his head and watches Bones’ face fall.
“It isn’t like that,” Jim says.
“Then what is it like?”
“It’s not a big deal,” Jim says, knowing it’s not a real answer.
Bones just stands there for a moment, then: “How long?”
The thinness of his voice is all hurt and vulnerability, and this is the hard part, because Jim may be all about a just cause and doing what needs to be done, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.
He swallows back a dozen declarations and reassurances, shrugging again instead.
Another silence, and then:
“The whole time, right?” But Bones isn’t really asking, just thinking it through out loud. “That first summer, whenever I was about to come home early, there was Pike crossing my path, stopping me for a chat. That was all about giving you time to get back before me, right?”
Jim doesn’t say anything.
Bones doesn’t stop.
“Certainly explains how you were able hack your tracking data. A captain must have good clearance. Lot of trouble to go to, though. I mean, you two must have been spending a whole lot of time together.”
(If he’d thought about it, Jim would have thought he was too cynical to be shocked anymore. Jim would have been wrong.)
“You’ve been monitoring my tracking data?” Jim’s voice is shaking.
Bones looks guilty and self-righteous and sorry and betrayed.
Jim knows the feeling.
It’s his turn to whisper, “How long?”
It’s Bones’ turn to shrug.
Maybe they should be screaming at each other by this point, but instead they’re just staring and finding nothing left to say.
It’s been a long time since Jim slept in his own room.
He remembers the bed being small, but he doesn’t remember it feeling so empty.
On to Part Thirteen...
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: Mature (this part)
Word count: 3,145
Warnings: Reference to past child sexual and emotional abuse; slavery "light"
Thanks: To cordelianne, who is making arrangements for our Oahu sightseeing!
Notes: This story takes place in the same time period as the 2009 movie (and will roughly follow its events), but imagines the future as a eugenic dystopia. Technically unbeta'd, so feel free to point out typos. I know it's been a terribly long time since I last updated, but I'm very excited to find that I am indeed capable of writing again (after months of post-dissertation/cross-country move writing hangover) and to offer you this chapter. Of course, I'm headed to Hawaii tomorrow for a little honeymoon, so there may be a (more slight) delay in the writing of the next chapter, but I can't say I'm too sorry about that...
Summary: Leonard wins the kid in a hand of poker. A hand of poker he plays in the dirty back room of a dive bar in East Bumfuck, Iowa, two weeks after his humiliating divorce is finalized, and on the sixth day of a bourbon-fueled bender that’s somehow taken him from his high-rise loft in Atlanta to a fleabag motel in the middle of nowhere.
Previous parts here.
Jim wakes up sometime in the early morning hours. He and Bones have moved apart in their sleep, which isn’t unusual, but as Jim lies there, he feels a spark of fear rising in his chest.
But it’s not about looking back this time; it’s about looking forward.
Bones was a good listener - no, a great listener - and Jim knows (like he’s always known) that he has a place here as long as he wants it.
What he doesn’t know is how Bones will see him now, knowing where Jim has been, what Jim has done.
Even if Bones really doesn’t blame him (and there’s a part of Jim that still finds that almost impossible to believe), it doesn’t guarantee that Bones will still want him.
It’s been a long time since Jim wanted to be wanted.
Jim is still lying awake who knows how long later when Bones rolls over and reaches for him in the darkness.
Before he can talk himself out of it, Jim slides closer, pushes his body into Bones hands.
He needs to know.
With everything he lost to Frank - everything Frank took from him - Jim needs to know he’s got something left. Jim needs to know there’s something that’s still his to give.
And he needs to know that it’s something someone like Bones could desire.
Jim’s breath is caught in his throat as Bones begins to stir, becomes aware of what’s happening, what Jim is seeking.
He doesn’t pull away, but… “You don’t have to…” Bones begins in a raspy whisper.
“I choose to,” Jim says.
“I don’t expect-”
Jim stops the words with fingertips over Bones’ lips. “I know, but if I don’t get to choose now, then he really did take everything.”
Bones is still for a second, then he reaches out and tugs Jim over top of him, letting Jim know that Jim’s the one in charge here.
But even as Jim is opening Bones up, even as Jim’s moving inside of him, it feels less about taking and more about giving.
Giving as freely as he’s ever been able.
And Bones - somehow Bones takes in everything Jim has to offer and then gives it all right back again.
And then some.
Pike advances. Jim feints.
“I want to take the test again,” Jim announces. It’s been a couple of days since he opened up to Bones and suddenly things are starting to feel…possible.
Pike overcommits. Jim catches his leg in a sweep and brings him down, pinning Pike to the mat with no small sense of satisfaction.
Pike’s smile is something Jim’s always imagined you might see on a father’s face. Jim grins back before he can think better of it.
He offers Pike a hand up and then turns away to grab a bottle of water and collect himself.
Shields, he thinks. His are definitely not operating on full power. And yet…
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Pike says. “You and McCoy kiss and make up?”
Jim downs a few gulps of water. “Maybe you should get a love life of your own,” he suggests. “Keep your mind off of mine.”
“A ‘love life,’ is it now?” Pike teases. “Not an ‘arrangement’? Not an ‘understanding’?”
Jim turns around to shake his head at Pike, but it’s a mistake. Pike’s eyes widen at whatever he sees on Jim’s face.
“Wait a minute,” he says. “You and McCoy didn’t just kiss and make up. You actually talked to him, didn’t you?”
“Not about this,” Jim says, and feels a twinge of regret for all the secrets that still stand between them.
“But about something,” Pike counters with far too much certainty.
Jim looks down, embarrassed. “I thought you wanted my mind on practice,” he points out, but he can’t seem to stop smiling. He feels…lighter than he has in years.
“Knowing how to fight is only half the battle,” Pike says. “The other half’s having something to fight for.”
“You know, if you were getting laid, you probably wouldn’t have as much time to spend watching inspirational holovids…”
“Brat,” Pike mutters. “I’ll find a way to make you an officer someday, if only so you’ll have to show me some respect.”
“You wouldn’t like me nearly as much if it was that easy,” Jim says, and isn’t that half the reason he’s learned to trust Pike? Or Bones for that matter? They’re two of the only people he’s ever met who’ve actually tried to earn his respect. “Now, about that test…”
About that test.
Well, one thing Jim can say for his second attempt at the Kobyashi Maru is that it lasted longer.
Everyone still died, but much more slowly.
Yay?
Pike seems pleased, though, and praises Jim’s creativity.
Not creative enough, Jim thinks, but it’s followed by: Not yet.
“What are you doing, Eleen?” McCoy snaps. “Can’t you see she still loves you?”
“Oh, come on, she’s pregnant with Akaar’s child. What’s she going to do?”
Bones heaves a sigh of disgust and stands up to pour himself another drink. “Want another beer?” he asks from the kitchen.
“Yeah, thanks,” Jim says. “Pause playback.” The holo stops.
They’re already on their tenth episode of Friday’s Child this weekend, it being summertime and all, and the show is either getting really good or really bad.
Jim’s pretty sure he’s lost all perspective.
There’s a part of Jim that wishes the summer would never end. Bones doesn’t have to study and Jim doesn’t have to sneak off to meet up with Pike (because he’s traveling). They’re out of the Patronship housing again. It feels like they’ve got all the time and space in the world to pretend they’re not who they are.
To be nothing but together.
It’s the closest to happy Jim’s ever felt.
Bones returns from the kitchen, stops in front of Jim to hand him the beer. And stays.
“Hey,” Jim says, “you’re blocking the show.”
“Mmm,” Bones murmurs, “am I?”
Bones seems close to happy, too. Lighter, more playful. That raw sort of need has faded from his eyes.
Sure, Jim imagines Bones still has questions about Jim, and frustrations, but apparently one big, dark secret goes a long way because Bones hasn’t pressed him for anything since.
“Of course, the new view isn’t half bad,” Jim observes as he stares directly at Bones’ crotch. “A bit…obstructed.”
“I could fix that,” Bones says, reaching down with the hand that isn’t holding his bourbon and deftly unfastening his own fly. “Better?”
“Almost,” Jim says. “Just let me…” He uses the hand not holding the beer to draw Bones’ cock out through his boxer briefs.
He takes a moment, then, contemplating the dick in his one hand and the beer in his other. Licks his lips.
“Tough choice?” Bones asks.
Jim smirks. “Not really.”
He brings the beer bottle to his lips, tilts it back, and downs the whole thing in one long swallow, watching Bones watch the movements of his throat.
Bones chuckles, low and warm.
Then the chuckle turns to a gasp as Jim sets down the beer bottle and slides out of his chair, drops to his knees and swallows something else entirely.
The start of a new year at the academy (their third now) is another rude awakening. Back in the Patronship dorms, it’s another batch of entitled cadets, another group of ill-used Non-mods, and a steady flow of patients for their secret clinic.
Bones’ new class schedule is a bitch, though, and Jim knows enough first aid now to handle most of the basic cases. Which means he’s running the operation on his own as often as not.
He misses watching Bones work, but it gives him a chance to get to know the patients away from Bones or any other prying eyes.
Jim takes the opportunity to learn what they’re capable of.
Or, in some cases, to teach them.
Eventually, Jim meets a new arrival whose hacking skills put his own to shame.
He decides it’s time to take one last shot at the Kobyashi Maru.
Jim allows himself a small smirk as the power in the simulation room flickers off and back on again.
“Arm photons,” Jim says. “Prepare to fire on the Klingon warbirds.”
“Captain, their shields are still up,” Pike points out, his tone dry.
“Are they?” Jim asks.
Pike double checks his monitor. “No,” he says, almost to himself. “They’re not.”
Jim nods his satisfaction. “Fire on all enemy ships. One photon each should do it,” he can’t resist adding, “so don't waste ammunition.”
Pike rolls his eyes, but carries out the order, seeing the simulation through. “All ships destroyed,” he announces.
“Begin rescue of the stranded crew,” Jim orders, and then, by way of victory lap: “So, we've managed to eliminate all enemy ships, no one onboard was injured, and the successful rescue of the Kobayashi Maru crew is underway.”
Pike just shakes his head and chuckles. “Well, it’s a creative solution, Kirk, I’ll give you that. Care to let me in on your secret?”
“Let’s just say I’ve learned to tap into a hidden talent pool.”
“I’m impressed,” Pike admits, “and I don’t need any names just yet. Just remember to be careful, okay? We don’t want to raise suspicions before we-”
The sudden beeping of the security lock is their only warning.
Their eyes lock for a fraction of a second and then they’re both in motion.
They have maybe three seconds before somebody walks in and catches the illustrious Captain Pike in the very illegal act of training a Non-mod for revolution. Jim springs from the captain’s chair and starts tearing off his shirt. Pike quickly follows suit. When they’re both bare-chested, Jim pushes Pike into the chair he just vacated, straddles his lap, and starts kissing him.
They pretend not even to have heard the door open, only breaking apart when one of the two security personnel clears his throat.
Pike’s expression conveys authority and annoyance. “The door was locked for a reason. Can I help you ensigns with something?”
Jim doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t move from Pike’s lap either, letting the intimate position continue to serve as a distraction.
“Excuse us, sir. We received an alert that an unauthorized simulation was being run.”
Pike’s expression shifts from annoyed to sheepish. “Unauthorized? Aw, come on, a grounded captain can’t run a simulation when he feels like it now?”
The ensign’s eyes flicker over Jim and then away. He looks off at a point in the corner. “With all due respect, sir, we would leave right now if you were alone, but you can’t have a Non-mod here. This is a restricted area.”
As well they both know. Jim also knows that it was most likely his hack of the test that overrode the blocks Pike had in place to ensure their secrecy, setting off the alert. He wants to kick himself.
“You’re right, of course.” Pike lowers his voice to take on a conspiratorial tone. “I didn’t think it would hurt. I just had this little…scenario I’d been wanting to try out. Been missing the chair, is all.”
A moment of silence greets the comment, as all sorts of kinky “scenarios” no doubt flash through the two ensigns’ minds. Still, they don’t budge. Though obviously uncomfortable, they’re clearly dedicated to doing their job.
“Sir,” the second one says, trying hard to keep her eyes on Pike’s face and away from any naked torsos, “we appreciate your desire for, uh, privacy, but I’m afraid we can’t let you stay here.”
Pike waves a hand. “Yes, yes, fine, we’ll finish up and get out. Thank you for your diligence.”
It’s a clear dismissal, but it has no effect. The woman speaks again. “I’m afraid we’re going to need to file a report and clear the room, sir.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“The first incident report is already registered, sir,” the man says, apologetic but firm. “We have to follow up.”
The woman approaches Jim and holds out a small PADD. He reaches out and presses his thumb against the surface. It beeps and the woman turns it back to face her.
“James Kirk,” she says. “Registered to Cadet Leonard McCoy.”
Jim nods.
“Is he aware that you’re here?”
Jim would do anything to leave Bones out of this, but there’s only one right answer to that question and it isn’t ‘no.’
“Of course,” Jim answers, with his best imitation of deference. “Well, not here here,” he adds, feigning shame. “He wouldn’t want us to break the rules. But he does offer Captain Pike some of my time on occasion.”
“The doctor and I have an understanding,” Pike adds.
Jim looks down like he’s embarrassed. He hates how creepy this story makes Bones and Pike sound, but it’s far from a far-fetched scenario, and right now they really just need a way out of this that won’t get all three of them thrown out of Starfleet.
Or worse.
“Are we done here?” Pike asks, calm and authoritative, like he’s inconvenienced but not panicked.
The woman shakes her head. “I’m afraid not, sir. We’re going to have to speak with Cadet McCoy.”
The security personnel insist on returning Jim to his - well, to Cadet McCoy’s - apartment. (After all, the word of a Non-mod is worse than useless on an official report.)
Pike insists on accompanying them there - “Just to make sure everything gets cleared up.”
Of course, Bones isn’t actually home this time of day, which means he has to be commed and asked to come back.
Which means waiting.
Which means a whole lot of awkward silence.
“Can I get anyone a coffee? Tea? Light snack?” Jim asks, because he only ever feels like playing subservient at the least appropriate times.
Pike shoots him a glare.
No one else bothers to respond.
Bones arrives after half an hour, out of breath and obviously freaked out.
Jim catches a brief instant of relief sweep over Bones’ face when he takes in Jim’s form, which it isn’t red and puffy or otherwise near death. But the panic returns half a second later as Bones takes in the security personnel flanking Jim. In a moment the rest of the room probably misses, Jim watches Bones put aside that panic and paste on a poker face.
In keeping with protocol, Bones acknowledges Pike first, “Captain,” then nods to security, “Sirs.” He keeps his eyes on them and away from Jim. “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. I hope there isn’t a problem.”
“We found your charge in a restricted area,” the man informs him, “but Captain Pike has claimed responsibility for that breach. We will expect that not to happen again.”
“However,” the woman continues, “we must also confirm that your charge was, as he has stated, in the company of Captain Pike at your request.”
The woman looks at Bones and Bones looks back at her. Jim can feel the tightness in his chest that must mean he forgot to keep breathing somewhere along the way.
“Yes,” Bones says, “of course.” Then, when neither security ensign speaks: “I don’t really need his…services during the day, so I’m happy to let the captain borrow him for a bit.”
It almost frightens Jim how credible Bones sounds, how much he’s learned about the kind of thing that’s expected from people like him. But at least the security ensigns are nodding and moving away from Jim, heading for the door.
Still, Jim doesn’t dare breathe yet.
The door shuts, leaving Jim, Bones, and Pike in the room. Pike opens his mouth to speak, but Bones cuts him off.
“Get out,” he says.
“Doctor McCoy, if you’ll just give me a moment to-”
“Get. Out.”
“Cadet…” Pike begins, but Bones is having none of it.
“I said, ‘Get out,’ and I damn well meant it. Write me up for insubordination if you have to, but do it from somewhere that isn’t my fucking room.”
Pike closes his mouth and nods. On his way out, he casts Jim a final look and Jim knows exactly what Pike is worried about - that Jim isn’t going to use this opportunity to come clean with Bones.
Jim’s fear is just the opposite - that he will come clean. That he won’t be able to make it through this conversation without confessing it all, thereby making Bones a co-conspirator to whatever reckless, rebellious thing Jim eventually does that will probably get him (and then maybe Bones) killed.
Meanwhile, Bones isn’t saying anything, doesn’t seem to know what to say now that he’s thrown Pike out, so Jim starts with the truest thing he can.
“I’m sorry about that. Thanks for covering for us.”
“Us,” Bones repeats, slowly, like the word is sinking slowly into his soul. “You and Pike.”
Denying it would require an alternate explanation. Jim shrugs instead.
To his surprise, the first thing Bones does is jump to Jim’s defense. “What did he do, Jim? Did he use his position? Threaten you? Offer you something? Because I swear, if he-”
Jim shakes his head and watches Bones’ face fall.
“It isn’t like that,” Jim says.
“Then what is it like?”
“It’s not a big deal,” Jim says, knowing it’s not a real answer.
Bones just stands there for a moment, then: “How long?”
The thinness of his voice is all hurt and vulnerability, and this is the hard part, because Jim may be all about a just cause and doing what needs to be done, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.
He swallows back a dozen declarations and reassurances, shrugging again instead.
Another silence, and then:
“The whole time, right?” But Bones isn’t really asking, just thinking it through out loud. “That first summer, whenever I was about to come home early, there was Pike crossing my path, stopping me for a chat. That was all about giving you time to get back before me, right?”
Jim doesn’t say anything.
Bones doesn’t stop.
“Certainly explains how you were able hack your tracking data. A captain must have good clearance. Lot of trouble to go to, though. I mean, you two must have been spending a whole lot of time together.”
(If he’d thought about it, Jim would have thought he was too cynical to be shocked anymore. Jim would have been wrong.)
“You’ve been monitoring my tracking data?” Jim’s voice is shaking.
Bones looks guilty and self-righteous and sorry and betrayed.
Jim knows the feeling.
It’s his turn to whisper, “How long?”
It’s Bones’ turn to shrug.
Maybe they should be screaming at each other by this point, but instead they’re just staring and finding nothing left to say.
It’s been a long time since Jim slept in his own room.
He remembers the bed being small, but he doesn’t remember it feeling so empty.
On to Part Thirteen...