PART TWO [CLOSED]
PART ONE PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
PART TEN
PART ELEVEN HERE
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McCoy was no stranger to just observe and draw his own conclusions. All it took was to sit in the recreation room, sip coffee and pretend to be busy reading a book, while looking as if he wasn’t listening to everything what was spoken around him.
“Man,” groaned an ensign from security, “what the hell did crawl up Captain’s ass and died? He had been grilling us in drills every day for almost a week now - I think I’m going to die.”
“Tell me about it,” grumbled another one, this time from engineering, “we got almost the same from him now, too - emergency drill about evacuation, since engineering is - according to the Starfleet manuals - the slowest in emergency evacuations, so he decided to improve our time. Scotty is ready to tear his hair out already.”
They were complaining for some time, when they finally said something of relevance - “one would have thought that after getting laid so recently he wouldn’t be such a dick.”
Now that picked his curiosity. Jim getting laid recently? When and where was that supposed to happen?
“Yeah - did you see that Nitizilian chick? She was - “ the ensign did 'some curves' gesture with his hands - “and mate, I bet that the night had to be really full of fun, if you get my meaning,” he finished, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“I bet - it’s just that I heard that he was quite vehement that absolutely nothing happened that night…” replied the engineer. The security guy just rolled his eyes. “See if I believe a word of it after seeing how glowing he was the morning after.”
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Leonard just sat in his corner and thought. ‘Jim, you idiot - I always told you so…’
“So, Uhura,” he started lightly the next day during breakfast in the mess hall, “I noticed the Bridge is full of sunshine when I ventured there lately. Care to tell me what the hell was happening while I was stuck in sickbay?”
And Uhura told him what happened. At least her version of the events. So Jim had an affair with the Nitizilian delegate and when admonished for being so unprofessional, he continued to declare that nothing happened - which, given his past, no one really believed him, especially after seeing his glow.
That’s when it clicks together in his head. No wonder Jim was acting strangely. He never lied, unlike popular belief. It quite surprised McCoy that people still didn’t get it drilled into their heads. Nothing flipped Jim off more than people doubting him. That was when all kinds of hell usually broke through.
It was later that day; much later than Bones would have liked - but he got quite stuck in sickbay; the drills may have been quite useful, so while the security guys got some additional training, it was the medics who took the brunt of it due to all pulled muscles they had to treat afterwards. He had a bottle of Saurian brandy (the finest of his whole collection) and two glasses, as he walked towards Captain’s quarters.
He found himself a bit at loss for words once he stood in front of the doors to Jim’s cabin. Who knows how long he would be standing there, if the doors didn’t open abruptly and Jim’s voice didn’t sound from the inside. “Anything I can do for you, Doctor? Or do you just plan to stand a hole in the floor there?”
The room looked different than he remembered it from before - most of the tokens he ever received were gone from the relatively public space of Jim’s quarters, leaving only working table, several bookshelves filled by various manuals and a big poster map of Federation space.
He decided to cut the long story short. “I came to ask what exactly is going on with you, Jim. This,” he showed around, “is not what I came to recognize as Jim space.”
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“Isn’t it?” shoots Jim back. “Maybe I finally learnt how to organize my working space, Doctor.” The title is a bit like a slap to Leonard’s face, who had been Bones for so long it feels like his second name.
“Or maybe you should learn how to mask your bullshit better,” he snaps.
Jim immediately bristles to that. “Watch that, Doctor, or…”
“Or what, Jim?” he demands, setting the bottle and glasses on the desk. “You’ll have me thrown in the brig? Will have the medical run through the drills, too?”
Jim actually looks a bit ashamed at the mentions of the drill, but only a little. “I believe the crew had been complaining about lack of professionalism from my side…” he starts but Leonard interrupts him again.
“They didn’t believe you, did they?” he asks, voice quiet this time.
The silence is stunning in its intensity, just like the blue of Jim’s eyes. There had been silence between the two of them before, usually the comfortable silence of two people who are content in each other’s presence, while they were working on paperwork or doing homework, when still at Academy. Not this elephant-is-happily-jumping-in-the-middle-of-the-room silence. He proceeds to fill the silence by pouring some of the brandy into glasses, shoving one of them Jim's way while seating himself in the chair opposite Jim's.
At last, Jim finally breaks the silence. "They didn't."
Sipping the brandy, they eye each other. Silence is no longer so heavy; it's still not as comfortable as before but Leonard hopes he will lift the remaining height before the evening ends.
"So, I've heard some pretty wild stories about captain being pain in the ass so soon after getting laid. Care to tell me what did really happen?"
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"Basically what the crew saw - I acccompanied the delegate Ultrinnan to her rooms and she invited me in. The thing is - unlike popular belief, it wasn't because she wanted to have some fun, but because she wanted to talk to me without who knows how many people around. You know," he pauses, "to catch up. We used to know each other when we were children, kept in touch for quite some time. And if that wouldn't be enough to stop me from fucking my childhood friend - man, she's going to be married soon. Do I look so desperate to nail a taken woman?"
The good doctor just shakes his head. "Not to me, kid, but the rest of the crew does not know you the way I do. I think I need to yell at them for a bit, before they finally get it through that thick skulls of theirs."
There is another short pause. "Well," Leonard grumbles in the end, placing his glass on the table and refilling it. "I hope the idiots like the drills, because they definitely deserved them. Planning to do some of these for the command crew, too?"
His response is a single chuckle and amused look in Jim's eyes. Things are still fucked up - but if nothing else, now Jim knows that at least one person on the whole ship knows how things are.
If there are several yellings by the scary CMO taking place at various places of the ship during next few day, no one ever mentions them. The fact that the command crew suddenly does not know where to look when Captain marches on the Bridge, tips of Spock's ears green whenever he looks Captain's way, or the way Chekov mouth opens only to shut it again when he notices the warning glare from Uhura, is ostensibly not noticed by the Captain himself (while he is full of glee at the notion "I have a scary CMO and am not afraid of using him!")
The drills continue some more days; security is able to dash to anywhere in matter of seconds, engineering has the best time for evacuation in the whole fleet and the medbay itself is the best synchronized medbay in the black.
And that is when Captain finally arrives to his shift, looks around, ogles Uhura legs shamelessly, pats Spock on the shoulder, flips himself on his chair, sprawling there like a small boy and says: "Sulu, take the lady to that star and then turn left."
The crew exchanges happy glances (well, as happy as Vulcan glance can be, in one instance). They all know they will be banging their heads over their consoles in no time over Captain's shenanigans in no time and will have to fight urges to smack him (because it's not proper to smack your superior officer).
But Jim being Jim is the best thing what could happen to this ship. They just had to learn the hard way that they can trust him to tell them the truth.
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