[fic] drabbles (ST: Reboot)
I wrote these for bridge2sickbay this afternoon. The theme was household items. They're all pretty tame, though the implications in the first one are fairly obvious. *g*
The more I think about it, the more I think I'd like to try my hand at a full-length McCoy/Uhura story someday. Someday.
Kirk poked his head out of the bathroom. “Yoo shay shomeshing?” he asked around the red toothbrush and the mouthful of foam.
McCoy looked at him warily. Those were his boxers the kid was wearing, and his Starfleet Medical hoodie. “Did I say you could borrow my things?”
Kirk ducked back into the bathroom, and McCoy heard him spitting into the sink. He reappeared a second later, dragging fingers through his spiky-damp blond hair and looking not the least bit sheepish. “Uh, no,” he said. “Would’ve asked, but you were still asleep.”
“Not the point,” McCoy said. “The point is - what happened to your clothes?”
“That,” said Kirk, “is a mystery.” He gestured broadly, and for the first time since opening his eyes, McCoy gave the dorm a glance.
Jesus H. Christ. The place was a disaster area. The desk chair had been overturned, and there were clothes flung everywhere. A single blue sock hung from the corner of his framed diploma from Ole Miss. Wow.
McCoy turned back to Jim and gave him a half-hearted glare. “That was my toothbrush you were using, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Grinning, Jim strode right up to him and kissed his mouth. His lips were soft and moist, his breath minty. “Got a problem with that, Bones?”
The sad thing was that he really didn’t.
_____
“You go first, Captain.”
“I swear, Lieutenant, I’m not going to look up your skirt.”
She didn’t laugh at him. She didn’t have to. She just did the eyebrow thing. (Why in the hell was half his senior staff so damn good at doing the eyebrow thing? It was some kind of galactic conspiracy.)
“Fine,” he said, turning. He started up the ladder and she followed.
After a few rungs, though, he paused and looked down at her. “You’re totally watching my ass, Lieutenant.”
The beautiful dark eyes sparkled as she smiled. “Can you blame me?”
He thought on that for a moment. “Nope,” he said at length, “certainly can’t.”
_____
“It’s a Paphiopedilum!” she said with evident delight.
“It’s an Lady Slipper,” said Leonard. “I thought, since you told me you used to dance when you were little…”
“A Paphiopedilum is a Lady Slipper,” Nyota said.
“Uh-huh. Can’t you just say Lady Slipper?”
“I can, but I can also say Paphiopedilum.” She looked at him slyly. "Can you?"
He tried. “Paphip … paphli… No, damnit. I’m a doctor, not a linguist.”
“You’re lovely,” Nyota said, catching his arm and standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “And so is my new Lady Slipper. Thank you, Leonard.”
_____
The more I think about it, the more I think I'd like to try my hand at a full-length McCoy/Uhura story someday. Someday.
Kirk poked his head out of the bathroom. “Yoo shay shomeshing?” he asked around the red toothbrush and the mouthful of foam.
McCoy looked at him warily. Those were his boxers the kid was wearing, and his Starfleet Medical hoodie. “Did I say you could borrow my things?”
Kirk ducked back into the bathroom, and McCoy heard him spitting into the sink. He reappeared a second later, dragging fingers through his spiky-damp blond hair and looking not the least bit sheepish. “Uh, no,” he said. “Would’ve asked, but you were still asleep.”
“Not the point,” McCoy said. “The point is - what happened to your clothes?”
“That,” said Kirk, “is a mystery.” He gestured broadly, and for the first time since opening his eyes, McCoy gave the dorm a glance.
Jesus H. Christ. The place was a disaster area. The desk chair had been overturned, and there were clothes flung everywhere. A single blue sock hung from the corner of his framed diploma from Ole Miss. Wow.
McCoy turned back to Jim and gave him a half-hearted glare. “That was my toothbrush you were using, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Grinning, Jim strode right up to him and kissed his mouth. His lips were soft and moist, his breath minty. “Got a problem with that, Bones?”
The sad thing was that he really didn’t.
_____
“You go first, Captain.”
“I swear, Lieutenant, I’m not going to look up your skirt.”
She didn’t laugh at him. She didn’t have to. She just did the eyebrow thing. (Why in the hell was half his senior staff so damn good at doing the eyebrow thing? It was some kind of galactic conspiracy.)
“Fine,” he said, turning. He started up the ladder and she followed.
After a few rungs, though, he paused and looked down at her. “You’re totally watching my ass, Lieutenant.”
The beautiful dark eyes sparkled as she smiled. “Can you blame me?”
He thought on that for a moment. “Nope,” he said at length, “certainly can’t.”
_____
“It’s a Paphiopedilum!” she said with evident delight.
“It’s an Lady Slipper,” said Leonard. “I thought, since you told me you used to dance when you were little…”
“A Paphiopedilum is a Lady Slipper,” Nyota said.
“Uh-huh. Can’t you just say Lady Slipper?”
“I can, but I can also say Paphiopedilum.” She looked at him slyly. "Can you?"
He tried. “Paphip … paphli… No, damnit. I’m a doctor, not a linguist.”
“You’re lovely,” Nyota said, catching his arm and standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “And so is my new Lady Slipper. Thank you, Leonard.”
_____