Fic: My Vulcan BFF
Title: My Vulcan BFF
Rating: PG
Summary: Spock and Kirk are BFFs. And no one messes with Spock’s BFF.
Notes: So. Kirk and Bones are MEANT TO BE. Can I get a ‘Hell Yeah!” BUT! That doesn’t mean we don’t have lots of love for the rest of the crew! It’s just platonic, BFF love. And that’s important too! So, I bring you celebration of BFF-itude! JONES STYLE!
“Stop,” Bones said. He pulled away, disengaged himself from Jim’s embrace. “Stop. This is a terrible idea.”
Jim stood there, his face the picture of bemused consternation. “You kissed me back!”
“And it was a terrible idea!” Bones yelled. He tried to build up a good rage, but all he had to work with was panic.
“Why!” Jim didn’t seem angry, just...legitimately confused, and disappointed.
“Because you’re an intergalactic space-slut, and I’m a bitter old asshole!”
Jim looked at him, really looked, like he was staring into Bones’ soul. “I would never hurt you, Bones. Don’t you trust me?”
“No.” Bones turned away, but he wasn’t fast enough to miss the hurt on Jim’s face.
“Bones, please,” Jim said. “You kissed me back, I know you did. I know it’s scary, but don’t you think trying would be worth it? I lo-”
Bones ran. Through the door, down the hall, and into the turbo-lift, as if demons were chasing him. He knew, knew that as long as Jim didn’t finish that sentence, everything could still go back to normal. Everything would be okay.
It was for the best, he thought, as he stalked back to his own quarters. Jim would find someone to screw at their next stop planet-side, and forget all about this crazy idea. They’d get through this. They’d be fine.
--
Jim didn’t show up to breakfast the next day. Bones expected this, but he was still surprised at the sting of disappointment. He was used to eating with Jim, dammit, conferring with him before he started his day and making sure he got some protein and fruit to go along with his carb-fest.
He hoped Jim had someone bring him something - breakfast really was the most important meal of the day.
“Green tea,” he barked at the replicator. Ensigns on either side of him shuddered at his tone took small steps away.
“Item not found!” The replicator displayed.
“What?” Bones said, probably quite loudly, as everyone moved to give him even more space. “I said Green. Tea.”
“Item not found!”
Bones turned away in a fury. It had already been a bad morning, and now this? He needed his tea.
He noticed Spock staring at him as he left the mess, and having the hobgoblin see his breakdown was just icing on the cake.
--
He felt better when he got to Sickbay. This was his comfort zone - the one place he was in control. It calmed him down enough that he was almost embarrassed at how he’d acted earlier. Tea was nothing to fly off the handle about. A mature man would quietly correct the problem.
He wasn’t sure quite how to do that. Normally if he had any problems with the ship’s systems, he just told Jim, and Jim took care of it. But Jim probably needed a little more time before things could go back to normal. Instead, he commed down to engineering. “Mr. Scott?”
There was a long pause before Scotty replied. “Aye?” he said, briskly, with none of his usual chatter or warmth.
He forged on. “There seems to be a problem with the replicators. I’m not sure who to talk to about that. It stopped making my tea...”
Scotty interrupted him. “Ach, well, right after I finished checking the dilithium levels, refining the warp core, and running the tests on the basic life support systems, I’ll get right on that. Wouldn’t want you to miss your tea.” And he said it perfectly politely, but Bones still had a strange feeling about it.
“Okay...um. Thanks. Have fun with your thing.” Have fun with your thing? Really?
He wasn’t at his best without his tea.
Christine Chapel walked into Sickbay and shrieked. He shrieked back in surprise.
She regained her composure first, and smiled at him. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone here!”
He glowered at her, but she was used to that and remained unfazed. “Why not? It’s alpha shift.”
“Yes,” she said, slowly, as if speaking to a child, or the captain. “And you’re on gamma shift today. Didn’t you get a copy of the schedule?”
“No.” This was insane. He never worked Gamma shift. That was his personal time, where he caught up on paperwork, or napped, or spent time with Jim...
“Let me see that schedule,” he said, drawing some very unpleasant conclusions. Was Jim behind this? He pulled up the week’s schedule on his terminal. “Gamma shift every day?”
Chapel shrugged. “I was surprised, too. I know how you like your routines.”
‘Well,” he ground out from between clenched teeth. “Since I’m off-duty, I think I’ll just head up to the bridge and sort this out.”
But first he was headed back to the mess. He needed caffeine, dammit.
--
He had not anticipated running into Jim at the replicator, but after a moment decided it was for the best.
“Hey!” He knew he was being louder than was necessary, but Jim calmly continued pouring his cereal.
“Oh, hi,” Jim said, pointedly watching his coffee being dispensed. “Aren’t you on duty now?”
That took the wind out of Bones’ sails, a bit. “Yes, I’d thought that too. Imagine my shock when I got down to Sickbay and found out I’m on Gamma for the foreseeable future.”
Jim shrugged. “Weird. But I’m sure Spock had a good reason. A logical reason, I mean.”
“Spock?” Bones was incredulous. How could their confrontation last night and all his troubles today be just a coincidence? But he knew all Jim’s little tells, and he would have bet money that he wasn’t lying.
“Yeah. Ship’s first officer draws up the duty roster. I’m sure he’ll tell you what’s up. Anyway, I have to run.” Jim grabbed his bowl and mug, and headed out without looking back.
Bones stood there, at a total loss. “Eat some fruit!” he yelled, belatedly. Jim never turned around.
--
Bones headed slowly back to his quarters, actually glad he was off-schedule for the moment. He needed some time to think.
He had hurt Jim’s feelings. It was only to be expected that Jim would treat him cooly for a while. He had not anticipated how strange that would make him feel.
He was sad.
Sad was a new one for him. He was used to bitter, maudlin, angry, frustrated, disappointed, rueful, and depressed. Those were old friends.
Being sad sucked. He kind of liked a good excuse to get pissed off - pissed off was fun. Sad was not fun. It felt like a big, hot, wet weight in his chest.
Usually when he to feeling down during his shift, he’d send a message to Jim. Not about his feelings, he was a man, dammit. Just something like how Jim should try to get through the day without going into anaphylactic shock, or having sex with anybody whose species wasn’t immediately obvious.
Jim would always reply, and they’d spend the rest of the day chatting over the comm system, debating which of them could to the best impression of Spock or some other equally foolish nonsense (Bones always maintained that his impression was better, but something about Jim raising one eyebrow and quoting Starfleet regulations made him laugh like nothing else.).
His comm beeped. He almost dropped it in his haste to flip it open. “McCoy here!”
“Doctor, it’s Uhura.”
He ignored the stab of disappointment. “What is it?”
“Regulations require me to inform you that you have over one hundred critical messages.” Was that a hint of smugness in her voice? Had he gone insane?
“How many?” he asked, incredulous.
“One hundred and sixty four. Sir.”
“Impossible...” He pulled up his messages on his terminal, and there they were. One hundred and sixty-four unread messages. One hundred sixty-five. One hundred sixty-six...
He opened one.
Dear Doctor McCoy, it read My name is Michael Wagner, and I’m a medical officer on the... blah blah blah blah, just some doctor asking for his advice. He got a lot of those messages; being the CMO on the fleet’s flagship made him a role model to the rest of the medical staff. But they were hardly critical.
He tapped his comm. “Uhura, none of these are urgent. Why are they flagged for immediate response?”
“I’m sorry, Doctor. Usually I organize your messages for you. However, it was brought to my attention that due to my lack of medical background, I could potentially filter a request you ought to see at once.”
He narrowed his eyes, because he knew who that sounded like. “Please go back to filtering them.”
“That won’t be possible, Doctor. The potential for liability is too high. I’m sure you understand.”
“I damn well don’t-” he started to yell, but she had already terminated the connection.
--
He stormed out of his quarters, filled with righteous fury. Now he knew who was responsible for this. The crowded corridor parted for him like the Red Sea, and though there had been a line for the turbo-lift, he found the doors closing on him alone.
He punched the button for the bridge, and waited impatiently. Spock was going to get it, oh, how he was. Bones had been saving up special and particularly vehement curses for a rainy day, and it was goddamn pouring now, it was -
The ship shook like it had hit something, and Bones slammed into the side of the lift, and collapsed to the floor. The lights went out, and the emergency backup lights flared, bathing the room in a dim, red glow.
Bones panicked. Were they under attack? He hit the emergency-open button, but the doors stayed stubbornly shut.
“Computer!” He snapped. “Open turbo-lift 1A.”
“Not possible, Doctor.” The computer’s melodious voice lilted. “Turbo-lift 1A is on lockdown due to turbulence. Please stand by.”
The ship jolted again, and McCoy felt his stomach fly up into the back of his throat. He knew, as a doctor, that such a thing was not actually possible, but at that moment, he believed.
He threw up when it happened again, unable to help himself. That was all he could take. Blinking back tears of fear and shame, he flipped open his comm. “McCoy to bridge.”
He got an immediate reply, which he expected. He did not expect it to be from Spock. “Yes, Doctor?”
“What in the hell is going on, Spock? I’m trapped in the turbo-lift and-”
“Remain calm, Doctor. It appears we have unexpectedly navigated into an asteroid field. Mr. Chekov assures me that it was unavoidable. And Mr. Sulu is piloting us out as efficiently as possible.”
So. They were all in on it. How he hated them, hated them all. He terminated the communication with Spock and dialed Jim directly.
“This is a bad time,” Jim said, distractedly. “We hit some asteroid field somehow - I’d say Chekov fucked up but that doesn’t happen, and getting out of it is going poorly and-”
And even though Bones could tell Jim was pissed off, hearing his voice still calmed him down enough for him to choke out. “Jim - I’m in the turbo-lift - I’m stuck - I need-”
“Oh shit,” Jim said, sounding genuinely worried. “Just hang on, okay? I’ll be right there.”
--
The doors slid open not even a minute later, and the sight of Jim, sweaty and red (had he run?) shoving the wires back in the control panel was possibly the most welcome thing McCoy had ever seen.
“Hey,” Jim said, crouching down next to him and pulling him up by his arms, not even making a face at the vomit. “Hey, you okay?”
Bones shook his head, refusing to meet Jim’s eyes. Jim wrapped an arm around his shoulders, lending him support, and started walking them towards Bones’s quarters.
When the roaring in his ears receded, he could hear Jim murmuring soothing things at him, just nonsense really, about all the special features and protocols he and Scotty had added over the past two years to improve safety. And though he’d heard it all before, it honestly made him feel better.
Jim punched in the code to his quarters, and sat him down on a chair. He walked off, and Bones heard him rummage around for a minute before coming back with a t-shirt and Bones’ sleep pants.
“Go clean up and change,” Jim said, gently. By the time Bones looked up, the door was already closing behind him.
--
There was no further turbulence, so after his shower Bones felt well enough to hunt down the source of all his problems. He cornered Spock in an empty hallway outside the Science wing.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Spock said nothing, just stood there, staring at him. “Well!”
“Forgive me, Doctor, I assumed your question was rhetorical.”
“It damn well was not rhetorical! Why are you fucking with me?”
“I shall ignore your grievous error in word choice. And you are aware of reasons behind my actions.”
Bones narrowed his eyes. “Bullshit. He would never have mentioned it to you.”
“Indeed, he had no need to do so. As you no doubt became aware when you familiarized yourself with my medical file, I am a touch telepath. The captain is a very tactile person. As he has had no telepathic training, he is unable to shield any thoughts which may be causing him particular distress.” And though any passer-by would undoubtedly say that Spock was as expressionless as always, Bones knew a glare when he saw one.
“Now see here!” Bones drew himself up, trying not to think about Jim being tactile with Spock. “You have no business getting involved. This is between me and Jim. And he sure as hell doesn’t need you and the rest of the bridge crew running around defending his honor!”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “At times, humans find me...difficult to relate to.” And Bones would have laughed if he wasn’t so furious, because that understatement of the century. “Jim has gone out of his way to be a friend to me. Is it not logical that I be a friend to him, when he has need of one?”
“He has one! He still has me, dammit!”
“Does he?” Spock said blandly.
Bones said nothing. He’d told himself all day that things were going to get better, going to be okay, but what if they weren’t?
“As I thought.” Spock nodded.
“Words cannot describe how very much I hate you.”
“Then I gather this conversation serves no further purpose. Good day, Doctor.” And Bones was damned if he was going to let that green-blooded bastard have the last word, but before he could think of a scathing reply, Spock was gone.
--
After he realized that all the clocks in Sickbay had been set back an hour, and that he’d missed his break, he cornered Spock again outside his quarters. This time, he had a plan.
“All this - this fucking with me. It’s illogical!” Bones declared, looking absolutely triumphant, certain that this revelation would end his nightmare.
“Thank you, Doctor. I am aware.”
Bones’ face fell faster than Sulu off a planet-destroying super-drill. “What?”
“You realize, Doctor, that I am not actually a hobgoblin? You cannot guess my riddle and watch me disappear in a puff of smoke. That would be illogical.”
Bones felt like a kid who had not only been told that Christmas was cancelled, but that Santa was dead and from now on December twenty-fifth was ‘International Clean-Your-Room Day.’ “But - you - logic!”
Spock looked placid. “I have been persuaded that it would be an honor to my mother’s memory to occasionally exercise my...humanity.”
“By being inhumane?” Bones fought hard to keep his voice level and calm, but he was having limited success.
Spock did not actually shrug, but Bones got the distinct impression that he would have, if he were any kind of normal being. “My morale has improved dramatically. Does that not render my actions...logical?”
Bones said nothing and Spock stared at him disapprovingly.
“The captain made the effort to earn my friendship. The least I can do is to have his back.” He walked past Bones, into the turbo-lift.
“Well, who’s got my back?” Bones asked the empty corridor.
--
He was still asking himself that, hours later, when he was alone in his office.
The door chimed. “Come in,” Bones said, bracing himself for some new horror.
“Hey.” Jim smiled at him.
“Oh hey - hey Jim,” Bones said, desperately glad to see him, but suddenly very nervous.
“Here,” Jim handed Bones a mug of something hot. “I saw you stalking around earlier, and it looked like you were having a rough one.”
With nothing to say to that, Bones took a sip. “Where’d you get this?”
Jim’s smile fell. “From the replicator. It’s that tea you always get.”
“Of course - thanks.” Bones tried to smile at Jim, and it came a lot easier than he expected. Jim fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable, just as clearly trying to make an effort at a friendly overture. We’ll get past this, his eyes seemed to say.
Bones felt a dampness at the corners of his eyes. Even after everything, Jim still had his back. That thought made him feel strange - sort of warm and jittery. He told himself it was the tea.
“No problem. See you later.” Jim waved slightly as he walked out the door. No more than five seconds later, Bones’ terminal beeped. He had a new message from Spock.
It was blank. It may as well have read “I have seen into your soul, and found you wanting.” Bones shivered.
--
The moments right after he buzzed the door to Jim’s quarters for entry were the most nerve-wracking of his life. He half expected it to electrocute him. That would be on par with the rest of his day.
Even so, the door opened almost too fast, and he froze, suddenly unable to say anything.
“Umm...hi,” Jim said, blocking the doorway and clearly uncomfortable. He was in his pajamas, and Bones was in uniform, so Bones understood why Jim might feel like he was at a disadvantage. At some point he would tell Jim that he always felt like that in Jim’s presence, but this was not the time.
He took a breath. “Can I come in?”
Jim swallowed, and for a moment Bones was absolutely certain that he was going to refuse. “Sure,” Jim said, taking a step back. “Can I get you a drink?”
Yes, Bones thought desperately. “No, thanks.” He didn’t want Jim to think he needed to numb himself for this. Even if he really kind of did.
They stood there, staring at each other for a long minute. Then Jim laughed, dropping down onto his couch. “What’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here for a while.”
“You haven’t called me Bones. All day.” Whoops. That wasn’t how he’d wanted to start.
Jim blushed. “You noticed.”
“Yeah,” Bones nodded, trying to dredge up the right words. “I didn’t like it.”
“I’m sorry,” Jim looked at him, wide-eyed and sincere, and that was not helping. “You just...It really shook me. Knowing you don’t trust me.”
“I trust you,” Bones said, instantly and without thinking. “It was stupid of me to say I didn’t. Because I do. I trust you with my life.”
He’d thought that would make Jim smile, but he frowned instead. “It’s not hard to trust someone with your life. I trust Scotty with my life. I just...I trusted you with more than that.”
“I know,” Bones said, roughly. “And I dropped the ball. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Jim smiled, but it looked forced. “I wouldn’t- can’t make yourself feel something you don’t, right?”
Bones walked over and sat down next to Jim, closer than he normally would have - almost as close as he wanted to. He felt Jim tense up, and he closed his eyes. “What if I do?”
There was a long pause, as if Jim were trying to gauge his meaning. “Do what?” Jim whispered.
Bones opened his eyes and looked at him. “What if I do feel that way?”
“It wouldn’t matter,” Jim said, finally.
Bones thought he might throw up again, and from Jim’s expression he was pretty sure the other man felt the same way. “What do you mean, it wouldn’t matter?”
Jim reached out as if to touch him, but pulled back his hand. “It wouldn’t matter if you had feelings for me beyond friendship. If you couldn’t trust me. Because I trust you,” Jim stared at him, like he was trying to read his thoughts, “with everything.”
And he did, Bones realized. Jim really did trust him, enough to make the first move, and put himself out there, and get summarily rejected. And even after that, he still loved Bones enough to be there for him when he needed him, in whatever capacity Bones would accept.
Bones realized that he was an asshole.
He also realized that in the interest of fairness, he had to put himself on the line this time.
He leaned over and grabbed Jim, pulling him in by the shoulders and kissing him like he now understood that he’d always wanted to. Because he trusted Jim with his life, which was easy, and his heart, which was harder, but nothing he hadn’t given away before, and with their friendship, which was the most precious thing Bones had, and the only thing he would never risk.
“Oh thank god,” Jim sighed into his neck. “I think all my moping was freaking Spock out.”
Bones smiled. “He’s a good friend. I hope you appreciate him.”
Jim narrowed his eyes like he thought Bones was under some sort of Vulcan whammy, so Bones interrupted him with another kiss.
“You sure?” Jim whispered, reaching under his shirt to run his hand up Bones’ back. “You really sure?”
Bones kissed him on the forehead, the temple, the cheek. “Trust me.”
End
Rating: PG
Summary: Spock and Kirk are BFFs. And no one messes with Spock’s BFF.
Notes: So. Kirk and Bones are MEANT TO BE. Can I get a ‘Hell Yeah!” BUT! That doesn’t mean we don’t have lots of love for the rest of the crew! It’s just platonic, BFF love. And that’s important too! So, I bring you celebration of BFF-itude! JONES STYLE!
“Stop,” Bones said. He pulled away, disengaged himself from Jim’s embrace. “Stop. This is a terrible idea.”
Jim stood there, his face the picture of bemused consternation. “You kissed me back!”
“And it was a terrible idea!” Bones yelled. He tried to build up a good rage, but all he had to work with was panic.
“Why!” Jim didn’t seem angry, just...legitimately confused, and disappointed.
“Because you’re an intergalactic space-slut, and I’m a bitter old asshole!”
Jim looked at him, really looked, like he was staring into Bones’ soul. “I would never hurt you, Bones. Don’t you trust me?”
“No.” Bones turned away, but he wasn’t fast enough to miss the hurt on Jim’s face.
“Bones, please,” Jim said. “You kissed me back, I know you did. I know it’s scary, but don’t you think trying would be worth it? I lo-”
Bones ran. Through the door, down the hall, and into the turbo-lift, as if demons were chasing him. He knew, knew that as long as Jim didn’t finish that sentence, everything could still go back to normal. Everything would be okay.
It was for the best, he thought, as he stalked back to his own quarters. Jim would find someone to screw at their next stop planet-side, and forget all about this crazy idea. They’d get through this. They’d be fine.
--
Jim didn’t show up to breakfast the next day. Bones expected this, but he was still surprised at the sting of disappointment. He was used to eating with Jim, dammit, conferring with him before he started his day and making sure he got some protein and fruit to go along with his carb-fest.
He hoped Jim had someone bring him something - breakfast really was the most important meal of the day.
“Green tea,” he barked at the replicator. Ensigns on either side of him shuddered at his tone took small steps away.
“Item not found!” The replicator displayed.
“What?” Bones said, probably quite loudly, as everyone moved to give him even more space. “I said Green. Tea.”
“Item not found!”
Bones turned away in a fury. It had already been a bad morning, and now this? He needed his tea.
He noticed Spock staring at him as he left the mess, and having the hobgoblin see his breakdown was just icing on the cake.
--
He felt better when he got to Sickbay. This was his comfort zone - the one place he was in control. It calmed him down enough that he was almost embarrassed at how he’d acted earlier. Tea was nothing to fly off the handle about. A mature man would quietly correct the problem.
He wasn’t sure quite how to do that. Normally if he had any problems with the ship’s systems, he just told Jim, and Jim took care of it. But Jim probably needed a little more time before things could go back to normal. Instead, he commed down to engineering. “Mr. Scott?”
There was a long pause before Scotty replied. “Aye?” he said, briskly, with none of his usual chatter or warmth.
He forged on. “There seems to be a problem with the replicators. I’m not sure who to talk to about that. It stopped making my tea...”
Scotty interrupted him. “Ach, well, right after I finished checking the dilithium levels, refining the warp core, and running the tests on the basic life support systems, I’ll get right on that. Wouldn’t want you to miss your tea.” And he said it perfectly politely, but Bones still had a strange feeling about it.
“Okay...um. Thanks. Have fun with your thing.” Have fun with your thing? Really?
He wasn’t at his best without his tea.
Christine Chapel walked into Sickbay and shrieked. He shrieked back in surprise.
She regained her composure first, and smiled at him. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone here!”
He glowered at her, but she was used to that and remained unfazed. “Why not? It’s alpha shift.”
“Yes,” she said, slowly, as if speaking to a child, or the captain. “And you’re on gamma shift today. Didn’t you get a copy of the schedule?”
“No.” This was insane. He never worked Gamma shift. That was his personal time, where he caught up on paperwork, or napped, or spent time with Jim...
“Let me see that schedule,” he said, drawing some very unpleasant conclusions. Was Jim behind this? He pulled up the week’s schedule on his terminal. “Gamma shift every day?”
Chapel shrugged. “I was surprised, too. I know how you like your routines.”
‘Well,” he ground out from between clenched teeth. “Since I’m off-duty, I think I’ll just head up to the bridge and sort this out.”
But first he was headed back to the mess. He needed caffeine, dammit.
--
He had not anticipated running into Jim at the replicator, but after a moment decided it was for the best.
“Hey!” He knew he was being louder than was necessary, but Jim calmly continued pouring his cereal.
“Oh, hi,” Jim said, pointedly watching his coffee being dispensed. “Aren’t you on duty now?”
That took the wind out of Bones’ sails, a bit. “Yes, I’d thought that too. Imagine my shock when I got down to Sickbay and found out I’m on Gamma for the foreseeable future.”
Jim shrugged. “Weird. But I’m sure Spock had a good reason. A logical reason, I mean.”
“Spock?” Bones was incredulous. How could their confrontation last night and all his troubles today be just a coincidence? But he knew all Jim’s little tells, and he would have bet money that he wasn’t lying.
“Yeah. Ship’s first officer draws up the duty roster. I’m sure he’ll tell you what’s up. Anyway, I have to run.” Jim grabbed his bowl and mug, and headed out without looking back.
Bones stood there, at a total loss. “Eat some fruit!” he yelled, belatedly. Jim never turned around.
--
Bones headed slowly back to his quarters, actually glad he was off-schedule for the moment. He needed some time to think.
He had hurt Jim’s feelings. It was only to be expected that Jim would treat him cooly for a while. He had not anticipated how strange that would make him feel.
He was sad.
Sad was a new one for him. He was used to bitter, maudlin, angry, frustrated, disappointed, rueful, and depressed. Those were old friends.
Being sad sucked. He kind of liked a good excuse to get pissed off - pissed off was fun. Sad was not fun. It felt like a big, hot, wet weight in his chest.
Usually when he to feeling down during his shift, he’d send a message to Jim. Not about his feelings, he was a man, dammit. Just something like how Jim should try to get through the day without going into anaphylactic shock, or having sex with anybody whose species wasn’t immediately obvious.
Jim would always reply, and they’d spend the rest of the day chatting over the comm system, debating which of them could to the best impression of Spock or some other equally foolish nonsense (Bones always maintained that his impression was better, but something about Jim raising one eyebrow and quoting Starfleet regulations made him laugh like nothing else.).
His comm beeped. He almost dropped it in his haste to flip it open. “McCoy here!”
“Doctor, it’s Uhura.”
He ignored the stab of disappointment. “What is it?”
“Regulations require me to inform you that you have over one hundred critical messages.” Was that a hint of smugness in her voice? Had he gone insane?
“How many?” he asked, incredulous.
“One hundred and sixty four. Sir.”
“Impossible...” He pulled up his messages on his terminal, and there they were. One hundred and sixty-four unread messages. One hundred sixty-five. One hundred sixty-six...
He opened one.
Dear Doctor McCoy, it read My name is Michael Wagner, and I’m a medical officer on the... blah blah blah blah, just some doctor asking for his advice. He got a lot of those messages; being the CMO on the fleet’s flagship made him a role model to the rest of the medical staff. But they were hardly critical.
He tapped his comm. “Uhura, none of these are urgent. Why are they flagged for immediate response?”
“I’m sorry, Doctor. Usually I organize your messages for you. However, it was brought to my attention that due to my lack of medical background, I could potentially filter a request you ought to see at once.”
He narrowed his eyes, because he knew who that sounded like. “Please go back to filtering them.”
“That won’t be possible, Doctor. The potential for liability is too high. I’m sure you understand.”
“I damn well don’t-” he started to yell, but she had already terminated the connection.
--
He stormed out of his quarters, filled with righteous fury. Now he knew who was responsible for this. The crowded corridor parted for him like the Red Sea, and though there had been a line for the turbo-lift, he found the doors closing on him alone.
He punched the button for the bridge, and waited impatiently. Spock was going to get it, oh, how he was. Bones had been saving up special and particularly vehement curses for a rainy day, and it was goddamn pouring now, it was -
The ship shook like it had hit something, and Bones slammed into the side of the lift, and collapsed to the floor. The lights went out, and the emergency backup lights flared, bathing the room in a dim, red glow.
Bones panicked. Were they under attack? He hit the emergency-open button, but the doors stayed stubbornly shut.
“Computer!” He snapped. “Open turbo-lift 1A.”
“Not possible, Doctor.” The computer’s melodious voice lilted. “Turbo-lift 1A is on lockdown due to turbulence. Please stand by.”
The ship jolted again, and McCoy felt his stomach fly up into the back of his throat. He knew, as a doctor, that such a thing was not actually possible, but at that moment, he believed.
He threw up when it happened again, unable to help himself. That was all he could take. Blinking back tears of fear and shame, he flipped open his comm. “McCoy to bridge.”
He got an immediate reply, which he expected. He did not expect it to be from Spock. “Yes, Doctor?”
“What in the hell is going on, Spock? I’m trapped in the turbo-lift and-”
“Remain calm, Doctor. It appears we have unexpectedly navigated into an asteroid field. Mr. Chekov assures me that it was unavoidable. And Mr. Sulu is piloting us out as efficiently as possible.”
So. They were all in on it. How he hated them, hated them all. He terminated the communication with Spock and dialed Jim directly.
“This is a bad time,” Jim said, distractedly. “We hit some asteroid field somehow - I’d say Chekov fucked up but that doesn’t happen, and getting out of it is going poorly and-”
And even though Bones could tell Jim was pissed off, hearing his voice still calmed him down enough for him to choke out. “Jim - I’m in the turbo-lift - I’m stuck - I need-”
“Oh shit,” Jim said, sounding genuinely worried. “Just hang on, okay? I’ll be right there.”
--
The doors slid open not even a minute later, and the sight of Jim, sweaty and red (had he run?) shoving the wires back in the control panel was possibly the most welcome thing McCoy had ever seen.
“Hey,” Jim said, crouching down next to him and pulling him up by his arms, not even making a face at the vomit. “Hey, you okay?”
Bones shook his head, refusing to meet Jim’s eyes. Jim wrapped an arm around his shoulders, lending him support, and started walking them towards Bones’s quarters.
When the roaring in his ears receded, he could hear Jim murmuring soothing things at him, just nonsense really, about all the special features and protocols he and Scotty had added over the past two years to improve safety. And though he’d heard it all before, it honestly made him feel better.
Jim punched in the code to his quarters, and sat him down on a chair. He walked off, and Bones heard him rummage around for a minute before coming back with a t-shirt and Bones’ sleep pants.
“Go clean up and change,” Jim said, gently. By the time Bones looked up, the door was already closing behind him.
--
There was no further turbulence, so after his shower Bones felt well enough to hunt down the source of all his problems. He cornered Spock in an empty hallway outside the Science wing.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Spock said nothing, just stood there, staring at him. “Well!”
“Forgive me, Doctor, I assumed your question was rhetorical.”
“It damn well was not rhetorical! Why are you fucking with me?”
“I shall ignore your grievous error in word choice. And you are aware of reasons behind my actions.”
Bones narrowed his eyes. “Bullshit. He would never have mentioned it to you.”
“Indeed, he had no need to do so. As you no doubt became aware when you familiarized yourself with my medical file, I am a touch telepath. The captain is a very tactile person. As he has had no telepathic training, he is unable to shield any thoughts which may be causing him particular distress.” And though any passer-by would undoubtedly say that Spock was as expressionless as always, Bones knew a glare when he saw one.
“Now see here!” Bones drew himself up, trying not to think about Jim being tactile with Spock. “You have no business getting involved. This is between me and Jim. And he sure as hell doesn’t need you and the rest of the bridge crew running around defending his honor!”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “At times, humans find me...difficult to relate to.” And Bones would have laughed if he wasn’t so furious, because that understatement of the century. “Jim has gone out of his way to be a friend to me. Is it not logical that I be a friend to him, when he has need of one?”
“He has one! He still has me, dammit!”
“Does he?” Spock said blandly.
Bones said nothing. He’d told himself all day that things were going to get better, going to be okay, but what if they weren’t?
“As I thought.” Spock nodded.
“Words cannot describe how very much I hate you.”
“Then I gather this conversation serves no further purpose. Good day, Doctor.” And Bones was damned if he was going to let that green-blooded bastard have the last word, but before he could think of a scathing reply, Spock was gone.
--
After he realized that all the clocks in Sickbay had been set back an hour, and that he’d missed his break, he cornered Spock again outside his quarters. This time, he had a plan.
“All this - this fucking with me. It’s illogical!” Bones declared, looking absolutely triumphant, certain that this revelation would end his nightmare.
“Thank you, Doctor. I am aware.”
Bones’ face fell faster than Sulu off a planet-destroying super-drill. “What?”
“You realize, Doctor, that I am not actually a hobgoblin? You cannot guess my riddle and watch me disappear in a puff of smoke. That would be illogical.”
Bones felt like a kid who had not only been told that Christmas was cancelled, but that Santa was dead and from now on December twenty-fifth was ‘International Clean-Your-Room Day.’ “But - you - logic!”
Spock looked placid. “I have been persuaded that it would be an honor to my mother’s memory to occasionally exercise my...humanity.”
“By being inhumane?” Bones fought hard to keep his voice level and calm, but he was having limited success.
Spock did not actually shrug, but Bones got the distinct impression that he would have, if he were any kind of normal being. “My morale has improved dramatically. Does that not render my actions...logical?”
Bones said nothing and Spock stared at him disapprovingly.
“The captain made the effort to earn my friendship. The least I can do is to have his back.” He walked past Bones, into the turbo-lift.
“Well, who’s got my back?” Bones asked the empty corridor.
--
He was still asking himself that, hours later, when he was alone in his office.
The door chimed. “Come in,” Bones said, bracing himself for some new horror.
“Hey.” Jim smiled at him.
“Oh hey - hey Jim,” Bones said, desperately glad to see him, but suddenly very nervous.
“Here,” Jim handed Bones a mug of something hot. “I saw you stalking around earlier, and it looked like you were having a rough one.”
With nothing to say to that, Bones took a sip. “Where’d you get this?”
Jim’s smile fell. “From the replicator. It’s that tea you always get.”
“Of course - thanks.” Bones tried to smile at Jim, and it came a lot easier than he expected. Jim fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable, just as clearly trying to make an effort at a friendly overture. We’ll get past this, his eyes seemed to say.
Bones felt a dampness at the corners of his eyes. Even after everything, Jim still had his back. That thought made him feel strange - sort of warm and jittery. He told himself it was the tea.
“No problem. See you later.” Jim waved slightly as he walked out the door. No more than five seconds later, Bones’ terminal beeped. He had a new message from Spock.
It was blank. It may as well have read “I have seen into your soul, and found you wanting.” Bones shivered.
--
The moments right after he buzzed the door to Jim’s quarters for entry were the most nerve-wracking of his life. He half expected it to electrocute him. That would be on par with the rest of his day.
Even so, the door opened almost too fast, and he froze, suddenly unable to say anything.
“Umm...hi,” Jim said, blocking the doorway and clearly uncomfortable. He was in his pajamas, and Bones was in uniform, so Bones understood why Jim might feel like he was at a disadvantage. At some point he would tell Jim that he always felt like that in Jim’s presence, but this was not the time.
He took a breath. “Can I come in?”
Jim swallowed, and for a moment Bones was absolutely certain that he was going to refuse. “Sure,” Jim said, taking a step back. “Can I get you a drink?”
Yes, Bones thought desperately. “No, thanks.” He didn’t want Jim to think he needed to numb himself for this. Even if he really kind of did.
They stood there, staring at each other for a long minute. Then Jim laughed, dropping down onto his couch. “What’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here for a while.”
“You haven’t called me Bones. All day.” Whoops. That wasn’t how he’d wanted to start.
Jim blushed. “You noticed.”
“Yeah,” Bones nodded, trying to dredge up the right words. “I didn’t like it.”
“I’m sorry,” Jim looked at him, wide-eyed and sincere, and that was not helping. “You just...It really shook me. Knowing you don’t trust me.”
“I trust you,” Bones said, instantly and without thinking. “It was stupid of me to say I didn’t. Because I do. I trust you with my life.”
He’d thought that would make Jim smile, but he frowned instead. “It’s not hard to trust someone with your life. I trust Scotty with my life. I just...I trusted you with more than that.”
“I know,” Bones said, roughly. “And I dropped the ball. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Jim smiled, but it looked forced. “I wouldn’t- can’t make yourself feel something you don’t, right?”
Bones walked over and sat down next to Jim, closer than he normally would have - almost as close as he wanted to. He felt Jim tense up, and he closed his eyes. “What if I do?”
There was a long pause, as if Jim were trying to gauge his meaning. “Do what?” Jim whispered.
Bones opened his eyes and looked at him. “What if I do feel that way?”
“It wouldn’t matter,” Jim said, finally.
Bones thought he might throw up again, and from Jim’s expression he was pretty sure the other man felt the same way. “What do you mean, it wouldn’t matter?”
Jim reached out as if to touch him, but pulled back his hand. “It wouldn’t matter if you had feelings for me beyond friendship. If you couldn’t trust me. Because I trust you,” Jim stared at him, like he was trying to read his thoughts, “with everything.”
And he did, Bones realized. Jim really did trust him, enough to make the first move, and put himself out there, and get summarily rejected. And even after that, he still loved Bones enough to be there for him when he needed him, in whatever capacity Bones would accept.
Bones realized that he was an asshole.
He also realized that in the interest of fairness, he had to put himself on the line this time.
He leaned over and grabbed Jim, pulling him in by the shoulders and kissing him like he now understood that he’d always wanted to. Because he trusted Jim with his life, which was easy, and his heart, which was harder, but nothing he hadn’t given away before, and with their friendship, which was the most precious thing Bones had, and the only thing he would never risk.
“Oh thank god,” Jim sighed into his neck. “I think all my moping was freaking Spock out.”
Bones smiled. “He’s a good friend. I hope you appreciate him.”
Jim narrowed his eyes like he thought Bones was under some sort of Vulcan whammy, so Bones interrupted him with another kiss.
“You sure?” Jim whispered, reaching under his shirt to run his hand up Bones’ back. “You really sure?”
Bones kissed him on the forehead, the temple, the cheek. “Trust me.”
End