#spock: but i welcome your company doctor

[iamenits]

The Gamesters of Triskelion

[lenievi]

Spones Day 2023 fic

Canon divergent universe where TMP never happened. Takes place a few years before TWOK (but if TWOK happens is in the stars). Kirk has retired from Starfleet (just so you’re not confused), because I like that tidbit from Generations.

#McCoy didn’t know they were dating #first kiss #strangely proactive Spock

~1000 words. | G

---

The door to the Transporter Beam-up Center opened, and mixed groups of various species started to come out. McCoy moved to the side to not stand in their way, his eyes scanning the crowd for Spock’s familiar face. It was a few minutes before he heard, “Doctor McCoy.”

McCoy startled. “I need to buy you a cowbell.”

Spock lifted an eyebrow at him. “You’ve been saying that for years, Doctor, and I’m still waiting.” He raised his hand, fingers spread in a Vulcan salute. “We meet again.”

McCoy blinked and looked at his hand. His third finger quivered as he tried to connect it with the fourth one, hoping to form a V, but with no success. He gave up, shaking his fingers a bit, relieving the slight pain in his ring finger. One day, one day, he would succeed.

Spock held out his hand, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. 

McCoy glared at him. “You could’ve done it from the beginning.” He clasped Spock’s hand, soaking in the warmth he hadn’t felt for three months. “How was the trip?” He let go.

“Commanding a ship full of cadets on their training voyage is hardly a trip, Doctor.”

“You visited Vulcan before that, didn’t you?”

Spock gave a stiff nod. “Sarek sends his regards.” He beckoned toward the exit. “Shall we?”

Spock led him to a nearby restaurant.

Even after three years, it still felt odd whenever Spock invited him out. Sometimes to a science or technical museum, sometimes to a restaurant, sometimes to an arboretum. Just the two of them. If anyone had told him that ten years ago, five years ago, hell, even three years ago, he would scoff and tell them not to drink anymore. But Spock kept reaching out, and McCoy kept saying yes.

“Have you spoken to Jim recently?” McCoy asked after they ordered. He kept his eyes on the tabletop, not wanting to see Spock’s judging expression.

“Not since before my trip to Vulcan,” Spock said. “He acquired a dog.”

McCoy raised his head. “Jim has a dog?”

“His name is Butler.”

McCoy blinked.

“You would know that if you called him,” Spock said, his eyes piercing.

“Well…” McCoy wet his lips. “He could call me.”

“You informed him rather vehemently you didn’t want to see him unless he comes out of retirement.”

“You can’t tell me you think he can just live on a farm in Idaho and be happy.”

“That is not for us to judge.” Spock sipped his tea. “He appears to miss you.”

McCoy’s stomach did a funny flip. He reached for his glass of water and clasped it in both hands. His argument with Jim was ugly, and they hadn’t seen or talked to each other for two years.

“So, uhm…” he started but was saved by the waiter bringing their meals. The plates were placed, and McCoy grabbed the utensils. He should not think about Jim. Spock had always made it clear that they should resolve it themselves and did not wish to discuss it.

“It’s good to see you, Spock,” he said instead.

Spock smiled. 

They dug into their meals.

“My father offered me to work with him and accompany him to Ensis,” Spock said between bites.

McCoy frowned. “You want to leave Starfleet?”

“It would not immediately come to that, but it is an option I am considering.”

First Jim. Now Spock. McCoy had stayed in San Francisco because he wanted to stay close to them. Then Jim left. He stayed because Spock would have someone welcoming him back whenever he left on a training voyage. He stayed because… because he… 

He swallowed.

“I wanted to ask for… your opinion,” Spock said, his eyes focused somewhere behind McCoy’s shoulders. 

“My opinion?” McCoy put down his utensils. He didn’t feel hungry anymore.

“I have… always appreciated your company, Doctor.” Spock frowned. “Leonard.”

McCoy's heart skipped. He didn’t remember the last time Spock used his name.

“In the last three years, perhaps before that, the appreciation evolved, changed.” Spock looked him in the eyes. “I do not enjoy the thought of not seeing you for months.”

McCoy didn’t know what to say. His mind was flying at warp speed. The almost realization a minute ago. Every time Spock invited him to go somewhere. Every time McCoy invited Spock to his apartment, sharing meals, cooking together. The soft brushes of their shoulders, as they passed each other in McCoy’s narrow kitchen. The soft brushes of the back of their hands, as they walked down the streets or halls of the museums. Spock’s fingers on his elbow, demanding his attention. So common, so frequent that he didn’t even notice them anymore.

“Are we dating, Spock?” McCoy blurted out.

“As there hasn’t been an official agreement, we are not.”

“Do you want to?” McCoy asked before he could think about it.

The tips of Spock’s ears darkened. “That was the matter I wanted to discuss today. In order to answer my father’s offer, I first needed an answer from you.”

“Why?”

“I have already told you. I would have… missed you.”

McCoy could not hold back his smile, his cheeks growing hot.

“If you did not answer positively, creating a physical distance between us would be a logical thing to do.”

“The distance wouldn’t help,” McCoy murmured.

“Perhaps.” Spock inclined his head. “But it appears we do not have to test it.”

“But your father –”

“My father is aware.”

McCoy opened his mouth and closed it. “You…” He wet his lips. “You talked about us with Sarek?” Us. There was an us.

“My father thinks highly of you,” Spock said. “Mother too. She’d like it if you accompanied me next time I visit Vulcan.”

McCoy blinked.

“You don’t have to give me an answer today.” Spock bit his lower lip. McCoy hadn’t seen that habit in years. “But I would like to kiss you.”

McCoy nodded, lost for words. His heart beat loud in his ears. He raised his hand.

Spock leaned across the table and pressed their lips together.

[denouementrpg]

jeebies has requested some star trek characters to keep our current cast (james t kirk & spock ) company! jeebies would welcome any of the star trek gang, but specifies bones, uhura, and sulu as the ones she's most interested in!

CHAT WITH US ON DISCORD or CHECK OUT OUR LORE & APPLICATION PROCESS ON OUR FORUM!

you can also read jeebies' wanted ad in full right below the cut!

people always need doctors in denny -- why not a curmudgeon like bones?? given his futuristic knowledge of medicine, you could probably have him develop specialized medicine or treatments for folks with very specific conditions that need constant management. he could be the defacto medical expert in whichever region he's plopped into, though i'd love to see him encounter folks with magic or superpowers (spoiler alert: he'd hate it!!!). he and jim are besties (whether bones likes it or not) but I definitely get a more-than-friends vibe too, if that's something that piques your interest!

uhura is another one who would have a lot to do in denny; she could very well be some sort of archivist or historian cataloguing the different species and languages that have appeared in denny over time. she could go full on diplomat with her ability to communicate, acting as a political bridge between regions, or something less serious like customer service. she and jim's friendship arc, from her loathing him personally to respecting him professionally is written so well, and honestly i'd love to write their dynamic with her coming from ANY point in the timeline, because it would be so fun regardless.

sulu has 18 other interests outside of piloting -- botany, fencing and martial arts -- and a lot of personal baggage to miss while he's in denny, so there's potential there too. he could go 1:1 and pilot for odin's eye OR throw himself at a scientist post studying plants/animals OR even just work at a plant store. i love his and jim's friendship and like to think that jim brings out the less cautious side of sulu (much to everyone else's chagrin).

[enterprisetrampstamp]

Request: TOS Spock and Bones being an adorable married couple while aboard the Enterprise!

"All I'm saying is, you could've warned me," Bones was complaining, before the fabric of his uniform pants had even touched the plastic of the bench across the table from his Captain.

Jim, his focus directed at the PADD containing the paperwork that Yeoman Rand would be coming to fetch in less than five minutes, hummed a neutral acknowledgement and trusted his Chief Medical Officer to continue his diatribe with only that minimum of prompting.

"A chance to prepare--" Bones's fork flicked through the air-- "A chance to brace myself. Pretty sure that after everything you've put me through over the years, Jimmy, I deserved one."

"Almost certainly," Jim agreed, dashing off another signature with the rubber tip of his stylus.

"Good of you to admit it. Spock didn't!"

"What didn't I do, Doctor?" Spock asked, and-- unlike when Bones had sat down-- Jim looked up to shoot his Number One a crooked grin of welcome. (It wasn't about Spock, specifically-- it was about that, that warm feeling of vicarious happiness he got at seeing his two best friends oh-so-casually brush their fingers against each other in a gentle "Good morning" kiss.)

Bones rolled his eyes; Spock raised an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't admit I deserved a bit of warning before you dumped an entire crop of fresh-faced, bushy-tailed morons in my lap." Bones stabbed at his eggs vindictively, his expression sour. "Do you know how much work--"

Oh, that's what this was about? The new nurses and interns who'd joined the crew at their last pit stop?

"They're not morons," Jim told him, amused, as hebturned back to scrolling through his PADD. "And you did have warning, Bones; you had to sign off on all of them."

"I was told that I was offering my opinion on their placement on other ships!" Bones threw his hands wide, his left hand smacking into Spock's chest unapologetically. "Not mine!"

Spock gently removed Bones's hand from his personal space, and Jim sighed. "At the time, you were," he said dryly. "But several of your nurses have resigned their commissions recently, and this mission has been turning out a lot differently than we anticipated at the start; you could always use some additional hands in surgery--"

"Like I would trust these fools with a scalpel--!"

"They aren't even fresh out of the Academy, Bones," Jim reminded him. "Every one of them has at least a year of prior experience in a hospital and performed admirably--" he looked up, eyebrows raised. "At least, according to your own assessment."

"Have they yet shown themselves to be unsatisfactory?" Spock asked, calmly cutting to the center of Bones's ranting, and Bones scowled as he buttered his toast.

"They're fine," he said, shortly. "But not a one of them is prepared for the differences between traditional hospital practices and those of a starship, Jim. On another ship--" he waved a hand. "They'd have time to ease into things. But here? On the Enterprise? They need their hands held, Jim, and Chris, Geoff, and I only have so many hands to go around."

Spock looked to be considering this point deeply, so Jim left him to it for the moment, glancing guiltily at the chronometer on the far wall of the mess and resuming the race to finish his paperwork. It's not that Bones was wrong, in Jim's opinion; it was just that they didn't have a lot of choice in the matter. The CMO and the indomitable Nurse Chapel would simply have to ride herd on the new kids until they either shaped up or washed out-- no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

"You believe they are likely to freeze the first time they're placed under pressure," Spock surmised.

Bones-- when Jim glanced up into the silence of hesitation-- pulled a face and shook his head. "All hospitals are, by definition, life or death situations; they've already proven they can handle 'pressure'," he said. "But basic xenobiology credits don't do justice to the realities of practicing your craft on biological systems you barely understand-- present company included-- with diseases no one's ever seen before and half the equipment you would have wanted. It's their imaginations I'm worried about, Mr. Spock."

"Then perhaps it is their imagination you should focus on training, Doctor."

"There are a couple security officers trying to put an improv comedy club together," Jim suggested, hiding his grin by ducking his head further towards the PADD as he dashed off another signature, and a bit of toasted crust bounced off of his temple after Bones threw it at him. "That was assault of a commanding officer, I'll have you know."

"Shove it, Jim. The grown ups are actually brainstorming solutions over here."

"Of course," Jim agreed, smoothly, and pretended that "brainstorming" was the only reason Bones had laid his hand over Spock's when Spock placed it palm up on the table.

"Sims, maybe?" Bones murmured. "I could write something up, if you'd be willing to code it. No right answers, only better ones; see what they come up with."

"It would be my pleasure, Doctor."

A beat, a shit-eating grin in his periphery, and Spock repeated, sharply-- "Doctor."

"My virgin ears and I are glad Bones kept that one telepathic," Jim said, hiding his own shit eating grin behind his cup of coffee as he took a sip, and Bones laughed.

"Not in front of the Captain, Mr. Spock, or whatever will appear on your next performance review?"

Spock sighed. "You have a singularly frustrating personality, Doctor."

"You're one to talk. You know, Jim, he uses cinnamon toothpaste?"

"Perish the thought." Jim signed another dotted line, his feeling of foreboding growing as he scrolled further and further down towards the next. Janice was going to be here in--

"Your yeoman has just walked into the mess, Captain," Spock told him.

"And she's a woman on a mission," Bones added, eith a thread of laughter lacing through his tone. "A tactical retreat may be in order, Jim boy."

Captain James Tiberius Kirk did not turn to look over his shoulder, because that would be a sign of weakness. "Buy me five minutes," he said, his tone just shy of an order. "I'll speed read."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Bones demanded, but Spock-- bless those pointed ears of his-- was already rising to his feet.

"Accompany me, Doctor," he requested.

And, with a sigh, Bones took a few quick bites of his toast and then rose to his feet, wiping his fingers on a napkin as he trailed behind Spock. Jim paused his reading only long enough to watch them intercept Janice--

What they said couldn't be heard from across the room, but Bones's right hand found the small of Spock's back, his wedding ring glinting under the light as he waved the other about enthusiastically, and his exuberance combined with Spock's quiet intensity commanded Janice's attention quite completely. By the time she'd wormed her way free, Jim was outting the last flourishing signature on the paperwork, and he handed the PADD over to her with his most charming smile.

"Thank you, Yeoman."

"No, Captain," she said, with a smile that was far too shark-like for the sweetness of her tone. "Thank you." And then-- laughing-- she was gone.

Bones looked smug, and Spock's eyes glittered with Vulcan amusement, and suddenly, Jim was feeling much less charitable towards the man's ears.

"Gentlemen," he said suspiciously. "May I ask what price I've just paid for those five minutes?"

"You know, Yeoman Rand has a lot of friends on the ship, in all kinds of departments," Bones said, as he tucked into his remaining eggs. "Including Security."

"She's a popular woman," Jim agreed, slowly.

"Ensigns Martinez and Harper will be most grateful to hear of your interest in joining their improvisational comedy group, Captain."

Jim stared at Spock. "No."

Bones smiled. "Oh, yes."

"No!"

"His idea," Bones said, jerking his thumb at Spock.

"I was under the impression you had been looking for a method of engendering further goodwill between yourself and the crew," he said, with a perfect Vulcan poker face.

"Wouldn't do to back out on a promise now, Captain," Bones told him cheerfully. "Say, they still encourage audience participation st these things, don't they?"

"A staple of the genre, Doctor."

"My," Bones said, smiling into the horror dawning across Jim's face. "I guess I'll just have to make sure I never miss a show."

Spock hummed as he returned to his own breakfast. "I believe I shall have to miss every show, for fear that you would volunteer me for a sketch."

"Well." Bones wiped his mouth on a napkin, blue eyes twinkling. "Even so, Mr. Spock. I'll see you at lunch."

Spock bid him a pleasant morning shift, and-- with a brush of their fingertips-- Bones was gone.

"You didn't really promise Janice that I'd be doing improv comedy, did you?" Jim asked, weakly. "I'll forgive you for the implication if you simply admit--"

"No, Captain, I did not." But the way he said it...

Jim closed his eyes. "Spock. Did Dr. McCoy promise it?"

"Yes, Captain, he did."

"I know you love him, Spock, but I'd like your permission to ship him back to Earth--"

"Negative."

"He'll be happy there," Jim promised. "I'll set him up on a nice farmstead in Georgia--"

"I don't believe that the life of a farmer would especially agree with me."

"I'm not planning on sending you."

Spock raised an eyebrow, and Jim sighed, relenting. "I suppose you would follow him, wouldn't you?"

"Of course, Captain."

"Of course," Jim agreed, with a ghost of a smile breaking through his glum mood. It was nice, seeing his two best friends in love--

Even when they ganged up on him.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m Always Curious Part Twenty Nine

Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Also if y’all didn’t see, I made an I’m Always Curious Playlist, check it out if you’re interested 😊 Also toying with the next chapter being in Pike’s POV, we’ll see tho

Warnings: Cursing and mentions of canon-typical violence Summary: When I had determined the most appropriate position for the tag and that couldn’t quiet my mind any longer, I headed down to the shuttle bay.

Having had opposing pictures of her character drawn for me by Spock and Tilly, meeting Commander Michael Burnham was a bit of a trip.

The things that Spock had told me about her led me to expect someone austere, distant. But while she was composed, she was cordial, going so far as to make small talk on the way to the Ready Room. It wasn’t in the forced way that it had originally been with Jett, either. Apparently Burnham had heard a fair amount from me from Tilly. Jett joined us in the turbolift, and from there it was a short trek to the Ready Room.

I felt my stomach twist in apprehension as we neared the doors. While I had had some time to process the fact that Pike and I were in close range again, I had spent far too much of the last hour reflecting on the look he’d given me. I was distinctly out of place in the Ready Room. Not only was I the most unfamiliar with the crew, but I was still in my civvies. The Captain was already there, a PADD in hand. His eyes darted to the three of us we entered, but they quickly lowered to the device again as he said, “Commander Burnham, a word, please.” Burnham excused herself from Jett and myself, and I took the moment to look around. I ached with the familiarity - the sight of Chris’ table from Mojave in the room, along with a few other things that had made the trip over from the Enterprise. I drifted toward a window, unable to help my fingers trail over the wood of the table on my way. Jett followed at a pace, glancing at Burnham and Pike before stopping beside me. “Any idea how long Durling’ll take?” She asked. I shook my head a little. “Cornwell just said that he’d be here in a few hours.” At the sound of the Ready Room door opening, I straightened, hands tucking behind my back at attention-- And then I immediately dropped them as I scoffed, “Oh, it’s you.” “Is that any way to greet me?” Eli asked, walking deeper into the room, “You used to stand at attention, be all ‘yessir’ about it.” “I am your superior now, Durling.” “In rank only,” He retorted, coming to stop just in front of me. Despite his words, though, he was pointing that warm smile down at me, like not a day had passed or a thing had changed. And I couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto my face at his familiar gaze and teasing. After the war, Durling had been assigned to the USS Cetus, a temporary post as he awaited an official reassignment. While we spoke from time to time, I hadn't seen him in weeks. “God, I forgot what a dick you were,” Jett grumbled beside us. Eli turned to her, brows raising in surprise. “And it’s good to see you, too, Reno. Especially considering we thought--” “Oh, I know. This one got all misty on me about it,” Jett nodded to me. “Unnecessary detail,” I muttered.  “You can cry? I thought you’d gotten your tear ducts removed back on Starbase 115,” Eli frowned at me. “I would punch you if we weren’t in mixed company.” “Restraint? Wow, that’s new for you.”  We turned at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind us. Pike was there, brows raised a little. Eli smiled, turning fully from myself at Jett. “Eli Durling,” He introduced himself to both Pike and Burnham. “Commander Michael Burnham. Welcome aboard.” “Christopher Pike,” Pike tacked on as he shook Eli’s hand. Eli glanced back at me, brow raised, and I felt the urge to punch him intensify. Instead I just gave him a slight glare before averting my eyes. He knew about me and Pike. I had spent the last year with the man, we’d spent that time having one another’s backs. He knew all of my secrets— but then, I knew all of his. “We should start the briefing, the target’s nearly in range,” Pike added as dropped Eli's hand. “We’ve never run any 22-9-14s on the Discovery,” Burnham explained. “Well, you’re in luck, because the three of us ran a lot of them," Eli nodded back toward me and Jett. “Define a lot, I mean how many times did you ruin your phaser cannons after you transferred?” Jett asked. “Well,” Eli glanced back at me, “I’m not sure I have a count on the phaser cannons, but I personally ran around a hundred, and the Commander ran a number somewhere in the 300s.” “Somewhere? Where in the 300s?” Jett frowned at me. “I’m not sure that’s pertinent to this briefing, as I don’t have the same penchant for bragging that Lieutenant Commander Durling does,” I folded my arms across my chest. Eli smiled.

“Regardless, you’re in good hands,” He added, turning back to Pike and Burnham, “I’ll coordinate from the Bridge while the Commander takes care of the tagging process. Any questions?” “I’ve got one,” I piped up. “Of course you do--” “What am I tagging?” I asked over him. Eli nodded to Pike’s desk, and Pike stepped out of the way, waving his hand with silent permission. I watched as Eli walked over to it, opening a file and pulling up a holographic display of a ship. I pushed off of the wall and walked over to join him with the others, my eyes wandering the surface of the ship. “Is that a DY-100 Sleeper?” I frowned, bracing my hands on the desk to get a better look. “It is,” He confirmed, “The S.S. Botany Bay.” “You’re familiar with this craft?” Burnham asked. I glanced at her. “Few months into the war, Command was looking for craft that might be able to slip past Klingon sensors. These vessels are antiques— 20th century, decommissioned. Older metals, outdated tech, but high crew capacity.” “And the Botany Bay was used during the war?” Pike asked. I turned back to the hologram. “Only two ships were in good enough condition to shore up and get off of the ground. This was neither of them.” “Maybe it’s just being tracked for longevity, see how long it holds up,” Jett suggested. “No,” I shook my head a little, “No, Cornwell said colony when I came aboard…” I straightened up, folding my arms back across my chest, “We’re either gonna get radio silence or hear some really cryptic shit.” “That’s the spirit,” Durling clapped my shoulder, and I shot him a sidelong glance. “You realize this is gonna be a manual?” I asked him. “Ah-- No,” He laughed nervously, “No, you don’t have time for manual.” “Time or not— Look at the surface area on that thing,” I nodded to the hologram, “If this is an original sleeper class and launched back in the 1990s when they were originally being built, it’s possible that the integrity of the hull is going to be compromised. That means that the arms on the bot are going to be too rough for this task.” “What would you have to do to attach it manually?” Burnham asked.  “She’s gotta eject herself from her ship,” Jett told them. “How much does that differ from a ship-based tag?” Burnham asked. “... It’s different,” Eli tread carefully as he said so. I could feel him eyeing me critically, and I couldn’t help the way my jaw clenched as my stomach swooped with nerves. I hated manual tags the most. There were fewer safety nets: no tether, no easy way back to the ship if something went very seriously wrong--just me and a jet pack and a whole lotta hope. “Considering the fact that Command even authorized this mission in the first place, a manual attachment should be our last resort,” he added, “And who am I to argue with Command?” “Usually the second in line,” Jett answered. “Who’s first?” He frowned. There was a pause as I felt the two of them direct their gazes to me. “I resent that,” I muttered. “Which puts you in direct opposition with Commander Reno, which, given the longevity of her rank, technically puts you at odds with your superior--” Durling muttered. “O-kay.” “What are the steps that we need to get this off of the ground?” Pike asked, cutting over our bickering. I suddenly felt like a schoolkid called out for chatting in class. “Reno needs to look over craft, make sure it’s safe to fly,” Eli told him, “Your ship’s doctor needs to give our pilot a once-over as well, same reason.” I rolled my eyes a little. I was a little tired, more than a little jittery at the prospect of being behind the controls of an attack fighter again, but I had flown and been cleared for flight in worse condition. “Anything else?” Pike asked. “No,” Eli shook his head, “Barring any complications, we should be set to launch… round 1800 hours.” “If that’s the timeline, I’m gonna go get some sleep,” I straightened, “Thanks guys.” I turned away, heading for the door as I heard Durling pipe up: “Oh, and Commander?” “Yes,” I turned back, “Lieutenant Commander?” Durling took a moment, eyes sweeping down my body, then up again. “Where are we with that uniform?” I forced out a little laugh before nodding once, “I’m gonna leave now.”

-- I knew that I needed to get rest, but the prospect of a manual tag kept had set my mind racing. Instead I studied the schematics that I had available for a DY-100. And when I had determined the most appropriate position for the tag and that couldn’t quiet my mind any longer, I headed down to the shuttle bay. -- “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Jett almost scowled at the sight of me stepping onto craft. “Not tired,” I fibbed. Jett gave me a short look before lowering herself beside the control panel. “Make yourself useful, then, pass me the magna-spanner.” I crouched down beside Jett’s toolkit and found the requested implement before passing it to her. Once I had, I sat on the floor of the craft, leaning back against the wall and looking around the small cabin. It seemed so much more confining than I remembered— crammed with measuring instruments, controls, an emergency med pack. I directed my gaze toward the hatch in the ceiling, the one I’d be pushing myself out into open space from in just a short while. “So,” Jett spoke up, “What’s the plan after this?” I smiled at the question— just like old times. “Maybe get some more pie?” I offered. “And sugar crash later?” “Mhm. It’s the risk you take when you eat the hard stuff.” “And after that?” “...Dunno. Maybe something that actually utilizes what I went to the Academy to do. You know, speak and translate something other than Klingon, work with texts and languages we’re less familiar with…” “But we put our dreams away?” “But we put our dreams away.” Jett leaned back, tossing the magna-spanner at me. I caught hold of it, depositing it in the toolbox. She humphed, “Well, you’re morose as shit, but your reflexes seem to be in good order. Should be helpful, huh, Captain?” I frowned before I heard, “Yes, it should.” My head was turned from him, and I had been focused on other parts of the ship, but I hadn’t even heard him come aboard. I glanced up at Pike to find him standing with his hands tucked behind his back. He cleared his throat. “Doctor Pollard needs to examine you,” He nodded over his shoulder. “Right,” I pushed myself to stand before glancing down at Jett, “You’re set here?” “Please leave,” Was her smiling answer. I smiled a little myself, shaking my head before following Pike off of the craft. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the way he had to duck to ensure he didn’t hit his head on the way out. A brief wave of embarrassment crested over me when he glanced back at the sound. Pollard and Eli were in the shuttle bay, not too far off from the craft. The introductions were short as I shrugged out of my jacket and tossed it to Eli. He caught it without a question or hesitation, hardly missing a word as he regaled Dr. Pollard with the story of his part in the Battle of Xisad. She seemed to only be listening out of politeness, humming in response now and again. Knowing Eli, though, this chatter was meant to distract all of us from what I was about to do. Dr. Pollard’s hand skimmed over my left shoulder blade and I jolted a little, tensing as I sucked in a sharp breath.  “Alright?” She asked. I nodded as I heard her switch to the scanner on her tricorder. “Quite a lot of scar tissue,” She added. “Caught the wrong end of a bat’leth,” I explained flatly. “Is there pain?” “No.” “Does it hinder any of your movements?” “No.” When Pollard returned her hand to that same area, fingers carefully massaging the area to ensure the truth of my statement, I held carefully still. “...Is there a right end of bat’leth?” Eli asked, breaking the tense silence from our superiors. “The side without the pointed blade would’ve been preferable,” I told him, glancing in his direction. “You’re so particular,” He scoffed, but he was smiling. I shook my head a little, feeling the tension drain from me a little. “Well, apart from a slightly elevated heart rate, everything seems to be in order," Pollard reported from behind me. “That’s not a concern?” Pike asked. “According to the Commander’s prior medical records, there is typically some uptick in heart rate prior to these particular missions. She’s fit to fly," Pollard tucked her tricorder into its holder. I gave her a small nod of thanks. “And yet not outfitted to fly. Starfleet regulation 67: an officer acting in the interests of the Federation must be in uniform to command or commandeer any vessel,” Durling rattled off. I hummed, nodding, “An excellent point, Lieutenant Commander, but you seem to be forgetting Starfleet regulation 67-A: In the event of an emergency procedure, Starfleet personnel are permitted to eschew Federation vestments as the mission demands. Or have you forgotten who that rule had to be instituted for?” Durling shuffled closer, holding my jacket back out to me as he muttered, “Can’t recall.” “Well— that’s hilarious, because I can. And I’ll be in a Starfleet flight suit, I do believe that that counts as uniform.” “It does,” Pike piped up. “Exactly— thank you, Captain.” “Anytime, Commander.” “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get changed and run through the pre-flight checklist with Jett,” I added. I thanked Pollard again before I turned, heading back to the attack fighter. Anytime, Commander. Two words. Easy. Two words that set my heart racing faster than the prospect of a manual tag-and-run did. Tag list: @angels-pie​​ ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta​​  ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​​ ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know​​ ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles​​ ; @inmyowncorner​​  ; @tardis-23​​ ; @2manyfandoms-solittletime​ ; @paintballkid711​​ ; @katrynec​​​ ; @hypnobananaangelfish​​ ; @elen-aranel​​ ; @blueeyesatnight​​

[labyrinthof-fan-fiction]

Confessions Spock x Reader

Prompt from @write-it-motherfuckers blog.

Person A: “I have something to tell you.”

Person B: “Oooh~ Are you about to profess your undying love for me?”

Person A: “Yes, I am.”

Person B: “…..What?”

Look, I read this prompt and my brain said SPOCK. So here we are.

Summary: You are a geophysicist onboard the Enterprise. You and Spock develop a friendship that turns into something more, but Vulcans are bad at expressing emotions. And let’s be honest, humans are worse.

Warnings: None, I don’t think, if I should have one for this please let me know!

Implied Jim/Leonard.

Word Count: 2,831 (Sorry, not sorry) 

You had been spending extra time in the labs, trying to get all of the data from the previous away mission cataloged. You rolled your shoulders as you finished your final entry for the night. You signed the bottom of the report and turned off your PADD. You had not left your post, staying through both shifts. You knew that would bite you tomorrow when you woke for Alpha. But you wanted this done, so you could take a moment to breathe. At least until the next away mission and you would restart the data cataloging again.

Your focus of study had been geophysics, the geology of other planets had fascinated you. But aboard the Enterprise you found yourself working in multiple disciplines at the same time. You would never complain, it gave you the chance to explore the other disciplines. You had always loved science, and journeying into space was everything you had dreamt of. Being assigned to the Enterprise had been a shock. You had not expected to ever be on a ship of such importance, but here you were.

You rubbed your eyes as you stood up, you definitely were going to regret this in the morning. You wearily made your way to the exit, running face first into a blue clad chest.

“Lieutenant Y/L/N?” A voice questioned, you turned your head upward, meeting eyes with Commander Spock.

“Commander.” You said, taking a step back.

His eyes scaled your figure, no doubt taking in your disgruntled appearance. “What are you doing here, you are not scheduled during this time.”

“I was finishing up the cataloging of the….” You started, interrupted by a yawn.

He tapped on his PADD. “You have tomorrow off. Catch up your rest. I do not want to see you anywhere near this lab for a full day. Am I understood?”

Your eyes grew wide, but you knew better than picking a fight with Commander Spock, especially when exhausted. “Yes, sir.”

“I will accompany you to your quarters, you are in no state to go on your own.” He said, turning on his heel and leading you out of the lab. Again, you resisted the urge to fight him, and followed him wordlessly.

As you made your way down the hall you felt eyes on you, passing crew members glanced in your direction as you made your way to your quarters. You shifted uncomfortably as you felt the eyes boring into your shoulders. You glanced at Spock, he seemed oblivious to the attention. Maybe you looked rougher than you thought. You stopped in front of your quarters.

“This is me.” You said, Spock stopping beside the door.  

He nodded. “Remember. Get your rest, no lab work tomorrow.”

You sighed as an answer, typing into the pad on your door. Nodding at Spock.

“And….” He hesitated. You looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. “Sweet dreams.” He said brusquely, turning quickly on his heel back in the direction of the lab.  You fell into your bed, thinking perhaps it was odd that your Commanding Officer had walked you to your quarters, but who cared, you just wanted to sleep.

You woke up the next morning and glanced at your clock, you shot up. You were late, too late, glancing down at your still uniformed body you guessed that it would have to do. Several reprimands flew through your brain, your near perfect report was going to be butchered today.  You rushed to your door before the computer started speaking.

“Lieutenant Y/L/N, Commander Spock would like you to be reminded that you are not to come to the lab today.”

“Thank you, Computer.” You mumbled, rubbing the remaining sleep from your eyes. In all honesty you thought that exchange between you and the Commander had been a dream. You wandered over to your replicator and plugged in the sequence for your favorite morning drink once your mug was full you wandered to the couch and grabbed your personal PADD flipping through articles and news from the universe. You continued reading, your drink grew cold as you found yourself caught up in your reading. A knock sounded at your door.

“Commander Spock, Lieutenant Y/L/N.” The computer stated.

You jumped up from your couch and rushed to the door. You pushed it open, narrowly missing the Commander. “Commander.” You greeted.

“Lieutenant.” He said stiffly.

“What brings you here?” You asked cheerily.

“I wanted to see how you were after a night of recovering.” He stated, taking a breath. “I also noticed you had not left your room and wanted to see if you would accompany me to the mess for dinner?”

You could swear that the Vulcan’s skin deepened at his cheeks. You glanced at the clock, realizing you had been reading for hours, without eating. “I would love to.” You answered, remembering that you had not brushed your hair or changed uniforms. “Give me a moment?” You asked, he nodded, you stepped aside to let him into your quarters, missing the curious eyes staring at your door. He sat on your couch as you raced into your room to make yourself mildly presentable. You changed into a more casual version of your science blues and ran a quick brush through your hair. That’ll have to do. You thought to yourself.

You exited your room to see Spock still seated at your couch, looking at the photos you had on your side table. “You and your family appear quite close.” He stated.

“Yeah, they were excited to see me join Starfleet, but I still miss them.” You said wistfully, “Are you ready?” You asked.

He nodded and stood up from your couch. You glanced at him, realizing how tall he was compared to your height, noticing his shoulders and shape, you shook your head slightly. Not your Commanding Officer. You chided yourself. You lead him out of your room and toward the mess hall.

You both walked in comfortable silence to the mess hall. You started noticing people pointing in your direction in the halls. You glanced at Spock, seemingly unaware of the attention you were drawing. You decided to take his approach and kept your eyes forward. Once you reached the mess hall you noticed it was filled with crew members.

“I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll be joining Doctor McCoy and the Captain.” Commander Spock stated as you both joined the serving lines.

“I don’t mind.” You stuttered out, not only were you eating with your Commanding Officer, but also the head of medical and the Captain. This is fine.

Your trays were filled and Spock turned toward a table with the aforementioned duo. The Captain turned your way and waved you both over, with a huge smile on his face. “Spock, Lieutenant.” He greeted.

“Captain, Doctor.” You said stopping before taking a seat. Commander Spock took the seat next to the Captain, leaving the seat between himself and the doctor open for you. He pointedly looked at the seat and yourself, and you sat. The table remained silent for a moment.

“Spock tells me you are quite the dedicated researcher.” The Captain said, breaking the silence.

“It’s nothing, Captain.” You said, blushing. Bringing your eyes up to Commander Spock’s, a hint of something flashing in his eyes.

“Jim, Y/N, just call me Jim.” The Captain said, his blue eyes shimmering with mischief.

“Jesus.” The doctor muttered under his breath.

“And him you can call Bones.” The Captain, Jim, said gesturing to the doctor with his thumb.

The doctor rolled his eyes and extended a hand to you, “Leonard.” He said as you shook his hand.

“So, what’s new in the lab?” Jim asked, Spock.

“Lieutenant Y/L/N has been cataloguing the data from the last away mission. They have been working on a cross disciplinary research of the planets we have visited to create a more in-depth database for our findings.” Spock said, nodding to you.

“That’s impressive.” Jim said, Leonard giving a non-committal grunt over his dinner.

“It is.” Commander Spock stated firmly. The two other men glanced at each other, smirks on their faces.

You continued in the conversation, the three men telling stories. Well, Leonard and Jim spinning tales and Commander Spock integrating the reality and truth to their stories. You found yourself laughing at their antics and feeling comfortable being a part of their dynamic. The night wore on and Leonard and Jim left, leaving you and Commander Spock alone at the table, discussing your research and recent studies released on planets and space travel.

A yawn took over your conversation and Commander Spock rose from the table. “I think it’s time to retire, Lieutenant.” You nodded joining him on the walk back to your quarters.

You stopped outside your door, “Thank you, Commander.” You stated.

“Spock,” He murmured. “You can call me Spock. And you are welcome.”

“Thank you, Spock.” You restated.

“I will see you in the morning.” He said, nodding to you and turning away. You watched his back for a moment before entering your quarters.

You took a quick shower and settled into your bed, wondering how all of that had just happened.

The next morning you woke for Alpha shift and went to the labs to continue your cataloging. Spock was there, working in a separate part of the lab. He glanced up and gave a small wave before turning back to his work. You smiled to yourself and set to work.

The next few weeks you fell into a pattern. Work, then lunch with Spock, occasionally Jim or Leonard would join. Back to work, dinner with Spock, then he would walk you to your quarters. You found yourself enjoying the company of the Vulcan. It was refreshing to have someone to talk to who did not grow tired of your constant speaking of new findings and research.

The weeks grew into months and the ship had come to terms with the fact that if they saw Spock, there was a ninety percent chance you would be with him and vice versa. It would have been a blatant lie if you stated that you had one friendly feelings for Spock. Which shocked most of your friends, who you had been neglecting in favor of him. They were curious, and defensive of you. More often than not you found yourself defending Spock. Regardless of your feelings, they found it difficult to believe the Vulcan had a caring nature. They were used to seeing his logical and cool demeanor. As their criticisms continued you found yourself distancing from them and keeping even more company with Spock than you had previously.

The two of you fell into a comfortable friendship. You are shocked to find the Vulcan was adept at teasing. Which spurred you both often into a battle of wits, his approach more logical and calculated, yours completely on the fly. Often at dinners with Leonard and Jim you both would wage war upon the other unsuspecting men. Leonard would roll his eyes when you would start to tease, and Jim would eagerly join in. Jim’s direct target would always be Spock, causing you to counter his teasing by going after him. Spock occasionally joining in to back you up. Vulcan humor may have been drier than human humor, but you never failed to laugh.

A full year passed and you and Spock had continued to be friends and continue your daily meals together. Your feelings toward him had grown, but you never found it in yourself to tell him. In a way you felt like you were taking advantage of his kindness towards you, and the fear of losing his friendship was too great to ignore.

You found yourself lost in thought at dinner and were drawn out of your haze by Spock’s voice.

“Y/N?” Your eyes shot to his, seeing the concern in them.

“Spock? Sorry, what were you saying?” You asked.

“I was asking if you would like to come to my quarters for a game of chess?” He asked, a wary look still in his eyes.

“Sure, I’d love that.” You said, nodding. You had never been invited to his quarter before, you had played many a game of chess, but that was always in common areas.

He nodded and began gathering your trays and glasses to take to the wash area. You tried to take them from him but he stopped you, “I have it.”

You had grown used to Spock being attentive to your needs, but you felt guilty each time he did something for you. Especially when you felt your heart race at his general existence. Your cheeks grew warm as you stood up to follow him out of the mess. He lead the way to his quarters and opened the door, gesturing you inside.

You glanced around the quarters, it was homier than you had expected. A warmth radiated from being in his quarters that made your heart flutter. A game of chess was set up in the middle of the living area.

Spock lead you over to it and sat across from you. You sat and began the game. You had never won a game against Spock, you always gave him a fight, but ultimately he always won. Today, something was off though. His counterattacks were not as well thought out as they usually were, actually his whole strategy was not as well thought out as usual. You found yourself winning and looked at Spock shocked.

A tiny smile was on the Vulcan’s face, “Nice work.”

“I don’t think that was a fair battle. You seem distracted.” You said, moving so you were next to him.

“I have something to tell you.” He said, looking into your eyes, folding his hands into his lap.

You felt worry grow in the pit of your stomach, heavy moments weren’t your forte, so you responded in probably the worst way you could think of. Letting a devious grin split your face you said, “Oooh…Are you about to profess your undying love for me?”

Spock’s eyebrows raised slightly, “Yes, I am.”

You felt the grin fall from your face and your eyes grow wide. This could not be happening, no way. “…..What?”

“I love you, Y/N.” He stated, “I understand if you do not feel the same way. Perhaps I misread your signals. I apologize if that is the case.” He continued to speak and you broke through his monologue.

“Spock, I love you too.” This caused the Vulcan to freeze in his rambling and he looked into your eyes. “I have for a while now.”

A small smile came across his lips. He reached out and placed his hand on your cheek. “May I kiss you?” He asked tentatively.

You smiled at him and nodded, he leaned forward pressing his lips lightly to yours. He pulled away, too soon for your liking, and stared into your eyes. “I love you.” He restated.

You smiled, “I got that part.” You leaned in for another kiss, this one tender and lasting a bit longer than the last.

The next day you met for lunch, Jim and Leonard sat at a table with two empty chairs. You and Spock joined their table. You sat across from Spock, flanked by Jim and Leonard. You could sense mischief in the air, but chose to ignore it. You all comfortably made small talk through lunch, that is until Jim wrapped an arm around the back of your chair.

“So, Y/N,” He said, you could see Leonard roll his eyes and start muttering to an Earth deity. “What do you say, we grab a drink next shore leave?”

You looked up at Spock, one of his eyebrows raised, wondering how you were going to handle this. “I don’t think my boyfriend would like that.” You answered.

A smile split Jim’s face and he removed his arm from your chair and smacked Spock on the shoulder. “You finally did it!” Green tinted your significant other’s ears.

Spock made eye contact with you as Jim started to talk his ear off about relationships and love. You giggled as his expression grew more and more pained. You knew you could save him from Jim, but as much as you loved him, you also loved seeing him flustered at Jim’s antics. Jim started going on about wedding colors and you thought Spock was going to combust on the spot.

“Idiot.” Leonard grumbled.

“Yeah, but he’s your idiot.” You answered.

A slight flush grew across Leonard’s face. “And that one’s yours.” He retorted, stuffing his face with the sandwich in front of him.

You smiled at Spock as he continued to listen to Jim’s ramblings. He smiled back and you could feel a warmth surround you. Regardless of the ever-changing nature of the universe around you, you knew one thing for certain. You loved Spock, and he loved you.

[startreckobsessed]

Let you go

Hi! Can i make a request? 🥺 For AOS Leonard Mccoy? With a lil bit of TOS Old Spock. Should probably set on Into Darkness, Bones and reader broke up between the event of the first and second film, so bones was a bit unbothered to flirt with Dr.Marcus (he’s trying to make reader jealous). Old spock talk them out of their misery by telling them that they’re story was quiet unique because in his timeline they didn’t even met, so they should cherish it. (Or whatever, as long as spock intervenes). They talk, and made up. And oh, fluff. Emotional tear jerking fluff. Thank you thank you!!

I have this idea (this was supposed to be a different request, but hey! ), that reader used to date and was in love with this hotshot before she met Leonard. Said ex died in action as a honored captain. Reader was devistated. Again this was supposed a different request, but you can make it as a back story. Can i make this my second request? Hehe 🥺😅

@lykxzandlove Thank you for requesting darling, and thanks for your patience, this one really faught me haha. If you recognise some of the dialogue it's from thirteen reasons why.

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST. I may or may not have cried while writing this.

[[READ MORE]]

You stood in rank dressed in your grey uniform, cap framing your line of vision, shoulder to shoulder between checkov and Sulu as you gazed up at the podium where captain pike was speaking.

"Exceptional courage, is what drives us....

And our crew, is what fuels us..."

Your crew had just finished the first two year leg of your mission. A long two years...

"Let's take a moment to pay tribute to past captain's whom have made the ultimate sacrifice..." the images roll, and a firmiliar face flashed before your eyes and you suck in a breath, squeazing your eyes shut to keep your tears at bay.

You breath out carefully out of your nose, trying desperately to keep the sudden onslaught of emotions contained.

People told you time would numb it, but even give years later, the pain was still fresh and raw each and every time you heard his name, or saw his picture pop up in your records.

You gritted your teeth, struggling to ground yourself in this moment, focusing on your feet on the ground.

You blinked harshly, lifting your face and focusing your attention on captain Pike.

You don't fail to notice the doctors face turned toward you, no doubt brows mashed together over concerned eyes. The urge to meet his eyes and sink into their depths is nearly overpowers your will, but you hold strong, chin high.

------

You had never meant to fall for Leonard. You were deep in it before you even realised what was happening. You were complacent with where you were, some people go their entire lives without knowing true love, you got yours. You didn't feel the need for a new one. But there he came, blazing and true like a comment blasting across the black abyss your crew so faithfully piloted. It happened so naturally, slipping through your defences so you never noticed it.

Until it was too late, and both of you had been wounded in the process.

----

"Sweetheart?" Leonard called from behind you. You cursed silently, slowly turning to face him, trying to keep the guilt off your face as you turned to face him. "You should probably stop calling me that.." You said softly. He frowned, and not the way you liked when he was being sardonic or adorably frustrated with the captain, this one was real.

"Sorry." He said "habit. Are you alright? You left the ceremony yesterday so quickly..." you shake your head, looking away from him. "Fine, I'm fine." You said, swiftly turning and walking away from him. He frowned, looking after you, not noticing his hand was slightly extended, reaching out for you.

------

Later that day, you made your way down to the mess hall, spotting the old Ambasseter Spock, sitting alone by a window. You go through and get your food before approaching the table, greeted by a warm smile.

"Hello ambassator, " you awenered with your own. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all Y/N. Your company has always always been welcome." You sit down across from him. "Do tell me, how is the good doctor doing." Your fork freezes near your mouth before you set it down. "Oh, I don't know." He frowns deeply.

"I can't imagine why not." He says. "We-" your voice cracks. You clear your throat. "Were not together anymore." Suprise flits crosses his face.

"Well, now that can't be right." He says. You grimace, "I know, nothing feels right anymore, it's like reality has been tilted on its hinges, but..."

"If you don't mind me prying..." He prompts. "Go ahead, you can ask."

"What caused the separation?"

"me." You say thickly. Unexpectedly he reaches across the table and pats your hand in a grandfatherly gesture.

"And by my estimation, you do not seem satisfied with the conclusion, correct?" You hesitate before nodding. "Then mabey its time to rethink that course of action?" Your eyes widen before you look down at the table, shame radiating off of you. "I can't do that, I've already hurt him too bad, I still hurt him." You grimace, thinking of the encounter in the hallway. "I don't know how to stop hurting him." You say, more to yourself than to him.

"Then perhapse it's time to discover what is hurting you." He says. You look away into the porthole, into the black inky abyss that you sometimes wished would swallow you up.

"You know, you two are a remarkable pair." You look at him quissicly. "What makes you say that?" "In every universe I've traveled there are differences, the events in a person's life, and how they react to them, shape who they become. In every universe a different set of events happen in both of your lives, and yet every single time, one of the only constants I find are both of you coming together, no matter the space or the time nor the obstacles placed before you, the one constant is your souls coming together. And from what I can tell, it hurts your souls to be apart."

Question bubbles to your lips, but you silence it. "Ask your question, Y/N." You smile grimly. "You know me too well." "Well I've only had two lifetimes to know you."

"Where you come from... what are we like?" He smiles fondly, memories coming back to him. He sighs in a melancholy way.

"Your other self passed on just a few months ago, from a human ailement not yet curable, he blames himself for not being able to save you." Your eyes widened before blinking in shock. "Wow, thats... God how is he?" He frowns even more deeply. "Trying to go day by day, but losing someone one loves so deeply for so long... is not an easy thing to accommodate to." "Well whats.." many questions bubble to your lips at once before deciding on one. "I-Is he alone?" You ask, voice cracking. He shakes his head. "The good captain has come to earth to stay with hm, along with your daughter and grandchildren." "Joanna?" He smiles just slightly. "Well I couldn't give everything away could I?" You bark out a teary laugh and he chuckles. "But time, is so very precious my dear, you yourself told me that after your diagnosis." "Well, at least one of us has sense."

"But to thoroughly awenser your question, might I go over a timeline?" "Yes, I'd like that." You sigh, resting your head on your palm. "You met on this ship, like so many other times...."

--------

A few days later, you smooth down your hair as you look in the mirror. You were ready to come clean with Leonard about everything you've been keeping buried. Your heart thundered at the thought of unearthing the source of so much pain, but you were ready to start again with him, start fresh, open and raw, with no secrets.

You exited your quarters and went looking for him. Your fingers nervously tapped against your legs as you walked, looking for him, first going to the Med bay. Christine greeted you, her brows burrowing when you ask for him. "Oh hun, he's off planet on a mission." "Oh." You say "thank you Christine." You say before dashing off for the bridge, where you knew they'd be monitoring.

The tube doors opened up and you made your way to stand next to the captains chair, where Jim was watching. He greeted you silently with a nod, both of you listening to the audio feed coming in. You asked what they were doing, knowing he could probably hear you being so close to Jim. Jim quietly filled you in. "We found some ancient Clingon battle tech on this planet, were trying to salvage it."

"Well sweetheart, there something I can help you with?" His voice came through painfully clear, flirtatious and laying it on thick. Your heart seized and you swallowed against the lump suddenly stuck in your throat

Jim eyed you warily "Dr. McCoy may I remind you you are not there to flirt." He said in a stern voice, concerned for your feelings. Dr. Marcus' voice rang in. "We've got it, beam us up."

Once you saw him you forgot that you were surrounded by your crewmates, your hurt voice ringing out.

"You... You called her sweetheart." You said, betrayal filling you, eyes filling with tears.

Without another word you took off down the adjoining hallway, Leonard taking off after you. You sped until you were in an abandoned hallway two floors down with him still following.

Your face got hot, embarasment taking hold. You didn't want to cry over a tiny little word.

His eyes widened, regret filling them when he saw how hurt you were. "Baby- " he stopped himself. He only called you baby when he was really concerned.

"No, no I'm sorry. It's okay, Carols great, she's a great person." You forced out, turning to try and walk away. He grabbed your arm spinning you back around. "I don't want Carol. I want you. I'm sorry." You blinked. "So your not ready to move on?" He shakes his head vehidamently. "It was stupid. So stupid. I've never done anything like that in my life. I wanted to make you jealous." It felt like all the air was sucked from your lungs.

"You still want me? After evrything-" he shakes his head. "My god woman, were you listening? Yes! I love you." He breaths, gently squeezing your bicep. "But I- I hurt you! I broke up with you without giving you a reason-" "I know, sweetheart." He says Your heart stopped.

"You know?"

"I know as much as I can guess. But why don't you tell me?" You took a shuddering breath.

"So you know I was on a different ship before this one."

"Yes."

"When I went onto that ship from the academy, I came with the captain. He made it so we'd make it onto the same ship, because we were..."

"together?"

You nodded. "We loved each other. He was my captain, and I was by his side as head of security and defense tactics." He nodded, fingers pressed against his lips as he listened. "One day, we were attacked by an enemy bregade, and crash landed us on a deserted planet. In order to save me, he threw himself in front the lazer that would have incinerated me and two other crew members. They would have killed all of us, all it did was incinerate him.

After he was killed the crew, furious overpowered them, and we survived, but..." You trailed off, before looking back to him. "How did you know?"

He sighed, as if debating telling you something. "As part of protocol, a captain must... gain permission from Starfleet to enter into marriage with another crew mate. His request form was entered just a few days before his death, with your name attached." You stilled, before another wave of emotion crashed over you. A sob escaped you, and you leaned against the wall for support, a hand coming up to try to muffle your cries.

Leonard watched you with glassy eyes, your pain like a twisting knife in his chest. He waited for a moment before slowly inching forward to wrap his arms around you, testing the waters. You pull him closer, wrapping your arms tightly around him, his warmth sinking into your cold body. "I'm sorry." He whispers into your neck. "I'm so sorry." You shake your head, pressing your face into his neck. His scent calmed you, and eventually your breathing slowed as his hands rubbed your back. "I love you." You said, his hands paused, and he untangled himself to look at you, hope in his eyes. "Really?" "Yes, I'm sorry I made such a mess. Do you want to try this again?" You ask. He let out a breathless chuckle before pressing his lips to your forehead. "Yes, God yes." You smile teary eyed, bittersweet joy filling you. You placed your hands on both sides of his face before giving him a slow melting kiss, thumbs stroking his face. "I just have to do something first." You say. His brows crease slightly, but he let's you go. "Okay.." He says uuncertainly

You smile. "I'll come and see you at dinner, okay?" "Yeah, I'll see you."

---------

You entered your quarters without turning on the light, blindly reaching for your padd. It glowed brightly in the darkness of your room, easily finding the picture of him you loved the most, him dashing in his captains uniform hat just a little bit crooked, every inch of him glowing from happiness. Hot thick tears leaked from your eyes as You gently placed your padd on the table in front of your window, his face materializing against the empty black abyss, somewhere where you knew his ashes were scattered, floating forever in the universe, amidst stardust and wonder.

"I love you." You whispered into the silence, looking at him. "Wherever you are, I hope you know that I love you. I hope you know that I'll never not love you... a good friend once told me, I can love you, and still let you go.... I know one day, thinking about you won't hurt so much, and the other feelings will fade, and I'll be only left with love. The way you loved me so fiercly and how i loved you. I'll never forget you i promise, how could I? Even when I'm dying I know you'll come back to me, when I'm old and tired. But there is this amazing man that I love that wants to love me, and I think I'm ready to be happy again. I know you'd want me to be." You looked back at his flickering image

"I hope we meet again. And So, Derek.... I love you, and I let you go. And I hope wherever you are, you feel peace, you feel safe...and I hope you know that I love you." You say, a feeling of weight being stripped off of you makes you feel lighter, and a strange peace settles over you, and somehow you know he hears you.

"I'll never forget you."

[space-helen]

Greeting

Words: 885

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader

A/N: I haven’t written Bones in ages but I really like how this turned out. Also in reference to the request. I wasn’t sure who you wanted the reader to hug so I went with Spock since it makes more sense?

Request:  I would love of you would write a thing where Spocks human cousin (from his mothers side) is beamed aboard to be a part of the crew and shes the exact opposite of spock, incredably emotional, and Bones is like... *blink blink* upon meeting her and balks when she goes up and hugs him, getting teary eyed about Amanda when she's beamed aboard. And he low key falls in love with her immediately. I understand if it's too specific, thank you for reading♥️♥️😚 - Anon

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“I really don’t see why all three of us have to greet the new Lieutenant.” Bones grumbled as he fell into step with Spock and the Captain.

“C’mon Bones, she’s the new Chief of Security Bones. She deserves a warm welcome.” Jim said, clamping his hand down on the doctor's shoulder. 

Bones grumbled under his breath as the three of them filed into the transporter room, standing in a line as they watched the new arrival materialised on the transporter pad.

You looked around the room and took everything in before laying eyes on your cousin Spock. Tears welled up in your eyes almost instantaneously, you hadn’t seen the man properly since the destruction of Vulcan and the loss of his mother, your aunt. 

Your feet were moving towards him instinctively, your arms wrapping around him and pulling him close as a tear ran down your face. “I’m so sorry about your mother Spock, I miss aunty Amanda.” Bones watched the interaction in complete shock as Spock stayed rigid beneath the woman’s embrace.

“Gentlemen this is my cousin and our new Chief of Security. Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N.”

Bones blinked in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. How could these two people be related? It had only been a couple of seconds yet he could tell they were almost polar opposites, you’d already shown more emotion in five seconds than he’d ever seen Spock show. Jim laughed at Bones’ reaction and he soon snapped out of it. “You knew?” Bones accusingly pointed his finger.

“The expression on your face right now is priceless.” Jim continued to laugh at the man. 

Pulling away from Spock you shook the Captain’s hand “It’s nice to finally meet you. Thank You for having me on the ship.” you used your other hand to wipe away the tear marks on your face. 

Jim shook your hand in return “The pleasure is all mine. You’re a very welcome addition to the family.”

Smiling you turned to the Doctor and shook his hand. “You must be Doctor McCoy.”

He shook your hand “Call me Lenoard.” the sentence had tumbled out by accident, throwing his first name out like that was a rarity, especially for people he’d just met. 

The gesture did not go unnoticed by the other men. “Bones here is going to give you a tour of the ship and show you to your quarters.”

“I’m what now?” The man turned to Jim.

“Have fun.” with that Jim quickly left, Spock raised an eyebrow at the Doctor before following the Captain. 

“Bones?” you smiled at the man and raised your eyebrows.

“Yeah it’s Jim's nickname for me. It’s a long story.”

“We have time.” The man gestured for you to exit before him and the tour was soon underway.

“And here we are. Your quarters.” You walked into the room and looked around, the man following you inside. 

You took a seat and invited the man over to sit next to you. “Thank you for the tour.”

“My pleasure Darlin’” the man thought back to the tour, he’d definitely dragged it out for longer than he should have, getting to know you as the two of you walked around and thoroughly enjoying your company. There was only one subject he hadn’t brought up yet. “So tell me. What’s it like being related to Spock.”

You turned towards the man “Well obviously I’m not Vulcan. Amanda was my aunt and I spent many summer’s on Vulcan with her and she’d visit Earth whenever she could.” you started to get a little teary eyed thinking of her “I loved her greatly.” you hesitated and shoved the emotions away the best you could, not wanting to break down in front of the man you’d just met “I hadn’t seen Spock properly since the incident. I’d attended her memorial but couldn’t hang around too long because I was required back on my last ship.”

“I’m sorry.” the man reached his hand out and placed it on yours and gave it a squeeze before removing it.

“It’s ok.” you sadly smiled and moved the topic back on track. “Spock wasn’t the most fun cousin but I loved him and he loved me. We did a lot of reading, drawing and exploring together. I truly looked forward to seeing him every year. Vulcan was a really beautiful place. I’m glad I got to experience it.”

“I’ve heard it was a sight for sore eyes.”

You smiled “Anyway enough about Vulcan and Spock. I’ve got to save the embarrassing stories in case I need them.”

“That’s a very good idea, that sort of material is useful.” the man’s communicator was soon beeping and he flipped it open to hear someone calling him down to sickbay. “I’m so sorry I have to leave.”

You smiled “That’s not a problem at all. Thank you for taking time to show me around.”

“It was my pleasure. I’ll see you around Y/N”

You stood and followed the man to the door “See you around.” 

He walked away and turned at the end of the corridor to see you watching him walk away, you gave him a small wave and he smiled and waved back. He’d only spent a short amount of time with you but he already longed for more.

Tag List: (open)

Bones: @cobe76 @ladyideal

AOS and Disco: @spaskaalekha @wallows-spring​

All Star Trek: @morganofthecoves1​ @sophiasescape​ @livenerdyandprosper​ @allthetrek​ @deeppandanerdbatty​

[treksickfic]

Comfort in the Little Things

An Election Day fic for you, even if you are not in the States. There seems to be a collective sense of angst in the air and I needed to read a cozy story; maybe you do, too. 

Featuring TOS Spock and McCoy, but not Spones. Self-avowed “bulletproof” McCoy is miserable with a case of Kamaraazite Flu and Spock steps in to help. A short and sweet fic at just around 1800 words.

My immense gratitude to @soupandtissues​ for the beautiful stories that have comforted me and inspired me to write my own.

The door chime startled Leonard McCoy from a restless half-slumber. He considered standing and crossing to the door but who was he kidding? He lacked the strength to even roll himself over in bed. 

“Come,” he croaked, as loudly as he could, and the single word triggered another coughing fit. He propped himself up on one elbow, all the better to not choke to death, he thought, hand pressed to his chest. As the paroxysm gradually passed, he sagged back to the bed, sweating and shivering but too exhausted to do anything to ease his discomfort.  

He closed his eyes when he heard measured footsteps approaching the spot where he lay in misery. Chapel again, or M’Benga. Well, he didn’t feel like talking or listening to their chatter and he certainly didn’t need anyone hovering over him. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep, whoever it was would leave.

“So it appears you are not bulletproof after all, Doctor.”

McCoy’s eyes flew open at the deep, measured voice.

“Spock,” he said, resignation in his tone. He’d changed his mind. He’d prefer his over-solicitous nurse or brisk Dr. M’Benga to this. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

“When Captain Kirk expressed his concern that you may be affected by the recent outbreak of Kamaraazite flu you said, and I quote, ‘I’ve been in Starfleet Medical for thirteen years, I’m bulletproof by now.’ Clearly you are not.” 

McCoy tugged at his blanket to cover himself, feeling exposed under the unrelenting gaze of Spock. 

“Kamaraazite flu is a nasty business,” he said. “Thought I was going to sneeze out a vital organ at one point.”

“Patients have been known to do just that. But in your case it was not the virulency of the flu itself, it was overwork and neglecting to administer the serum to yourself in order to ensure an adequate supply for the crew.”

“Hubris, in other words.”

“Not hubris, Doctor. You simply made the mistake common to senior officers, assuming you are indestructible.”

He started to respond and then felt a deep, burning ache in his sinuses. He drew in a quick breath and then folded forward with a powerful sneeze. That might have been my spleen, he thought.  When he dared to look up, Spock was standing near the bed, holding out a box of tissues with one hand.  McCoy snatched them from him.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a handful and blowing his nose. “For the tissues and for the pep talk. Now what do you want? Did you come here to laugh in my face? Maybe mock my puny human immune system?”

“Not at all, Doctor. I find nothing about your illness amusing. I simply wondered if you were in need of any assistance. Your cough has been quite persistent this evening.”

“And how would you know?”

“Our quarters share a common wall. I have been aware of your distress for some time now.”

“Have you now? Took you long enough to check on me.”

“I assumed you wished to be alone.”

McCoy snorted, which triggered a cough. “Typical heartless Vulcan logic,” he said when he was able.

“Not logic, Doctor,” Spock replied. “A simple inference. You shouted at the last person who attempted to check on you, indicating a strong desire to be left alone.”

“Well, I don’t need your help. And I do want to be alone, so you can leave now.” 

“Are you certain? The quality and intensity of your cough is showing evidence of increasing chest congestion and inflammation, but yet you seem unable to clear your airway.”

McCoy tried to respond but curled in on himself as another fit overtook him. He coughed harshly into a handful of tissues, aware of the deep ache in his lungs, and more concerning, the constriction and the rattle when he tried to take a deep breath. 

Damn it if he isn’t right. 

“Is there any effective medical treatment or does the illness have to run its course?”

McCoy gestured vaguely toward a table in the front room. 

“There,” he managed to wheeze out after a few moments, gesturing toward a table in the front room. “Two hyposprays.” 

For some reason, he’d left the sprays out of reach. By the time he’d staggered in from Sickbay, his fever had been spiking and he wasn’t thinking straight, just dropped his whole kit on the nearest surface. By the time the fever broke, he’d been too exhausted to fetch any of it. 

He flopped backward against a stack of pillows that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. He felt drained of all energy and was only vaguely aware of Spock’s movements around his quarters. If he could just get some sleep, that’s all he needed to throw this off. 

“Is there a preferred location for administration, Doctor?” He reluctantly opened his eyes to see Spock standing nearby, disengaging the hypospray lock with his thumb.

McCoy tilted his head to one side. “Right there,” he said, indicating the exposed arc of his neck. “About the same place you’d give me a nerve pinch.” Not a bad idea at that, instant unconsciousness, but the corophizine would provide the same effect in about twenty minutes or so.  He sighed, echoing the hiss of the hypospray. 

Spock’s face showed just a hint of distaste, likely a conditioned response from the many times he’d been sick after receiving medication. He administered the second spray and then strode decisively from the room, depositing the hyposprays back into their cases. McCoy turned his head to watch as he busied himself in the small kitchen area. Spock returned to the sleeping quarters carrying a heavy glass mug, steam swirling from the top.

“What’s this?” McCoy said, accepting the drink from him.. 

“It is tea, with lemon and honey. I understand many humans enjoy it when they are experiencing symptoms of an upper respiratory illness.”

McCoy took a cautious sniff, not that he could actually smell anything, and looked up at Spock. 

“Not the Vulcan swill you drink, is it? That stuff could strip paint off a wall.”

“Vulcan spice tea is appropriate for more refined palates. This is plain black Oolong with Andorian honey and lemon. You should find it unassuming enough for your tastes.”

“I’m not sure if I should be insulted or not.”  He closed his eyes at the first careful swallow. “It’s good,” he said. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Spock perched at the edge of the bed. “Whatever you may think of me, Doctor, I do not wish to see you suffer unnecessarily if I can assist you. If that means making you a cup of tea when you are ill, I am willing to do so.”

When he opened his mouth to reply, McCoy began to cough again, a combination of the medication and the tea having the desired effect. He felt the cup lifted from his hand and heard the clink on the bedside table as it was set aside. His cough was productive now, and he felt a gentle hand settle on his back and rest there, unmoving. No unnecessary movement or sentimental patting, just a welcome gesture of support and comfort. 

He could barely catch a breath in between violent coughs and when he did, he felt the deep rattle of congestion shifting in his chest. It must be disgusting to listen to.  He scrabbled for the box of tissues Spock had given him earlier and felt it placed in his hands. He kept his head turned away as he struggled, trying to make a neat pile as he went through nearly the entire box of tissues. The fit seemed unending but finally he was able to take a deep breath without triggering another cough and he sank back to the pillows, covered in sweat, head pounding, chest aching, but feeling some relief. 

Spock disposed of the tissues and now sat with a wet cloth in hand, a look of utter concentration on his face as he carefully bathed McCoy’s forehead and temples. 

“I can do that,” he said, reaching for the cloth but without much conviction in his voice. It was humiliating to be tended to by Spock, but he felt too weak to do much about it. 

“Lie still, Doctor.” he said, running the damp washcloth along the sides of his neck.  

“Y’know, if you’re going to play nursemaid, you can use my first name.”

Spock made no response, folding the cloth and setting it near the mug when he’d finished. 

“You’d have made a good physician, Spock.”

He raised one eyebrow. “How so?”

“You’re calm, you don’t panic. You do what needs to be done with no fuss. Guess that’s what comes from having no emotions. Wish I could manage it.” 

“Vulcans do experience emotions. So powerful that if we were to allow our emotions to dominate, it would mean a return to the savagery of our old ways. We are taught control from a young age.”  

Spock had alluded to the old ways before but McCoy had difficulty imagining him as anything but cool and unflappable. But maybe, just maybe, in those mysterious eyes, there was a hint of what was possible. 

“Nurse Chapel will be delighted to know you have emotions. Or maybe disappointed.”

“Christine already understands this aspect of my nature. She is one of the few who does.”

The medication was having its desired effect. The urge to cough lessening, his breathing easier and a lazy, floating drowsiness taking over. McCoy waggled his eyebrows lazily at the sound of his head nurse’s first name.

“‘Christine’ huh?’ Why, Spock, I had no idea.”

“It is not what you are assuming, Doctor. Nurse Chapel is sensitive, insightful and makes no assumptions about other species. You are fortunate to have her on your staff.”  

“What’re you still doing here?” McCoy’s voice was beginning to slur as he changed the subject. He didn’t have the energy for their usual banter.

“I am, as you say, ‘keeping you company,’” Spock replied. “You don’t need to do that.”

“On the contrary, Doctor. The sooner you fall asleep, the sooner I can return to my preferred evening activities.”

“Nearly there,” McCoy murmured.

“Then I will leave you to your rest.” Spock stood. “Shall I check on you later?

McCoy waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, I’m feeling pretty good.” 

And then he closed his eyes, vaguely aware of a sleepy half-smile on his face. Through his half-asleep haze he felt a hand settle against the top of his head.

“Then sleep well, Leonard.” Spock said. “We need you back in sickbay.”

McCoy responded with a click of his tongue and a fingergun gesture without lifting his hand from where it rested on his chest. “Will do.”

The last thing he heard was a sigh, the sound of the door to his quarters sliding shut and then all was dark and peaceful.

[green-blooded-computer]

Reuniting prompt: “I don’t think they even remember me.”

This one isn’t really them reuniting. Am I breaking the rules here? Spock and McCoy head to Vulcan to visit Sarek and Amanda...and tell them they got married during the five-year mission.

---

 “I don’t think they even remember me.”

It had been two months since the five year mission had ended. Most of the Enterprise crew had gone back to their respective homes. They were reunited with family they hadn’t seen in years, matters they hadn’t been able to tend to in space, and friends whose company they had missed. They’d promised they would see one another again, sometime soon, after things had calmed down. 

For many of them, their lives simply picked up where they’d left off. Some were offered positions on other ships. Some began teaching at the Academy. Most of them arrived on Earth with little more than their Starfleet uniforms, badges of honour, and a few trinkets picked up along the way. Leonard, however, brought back much more with him. 

Spock had agreed that moving to Georgia with Leonard was ideal. Nothing was truly waiting for him on Vulcan. Not after he had passed up his invitation to the Vulcan Science Academy all those years ago. He was - as T’Pring had so aptly put it - somewhat of a legend among their people now. The half-human who preferred to join the military instead of study. Spock did not want that life, and Leonard was more than happy to take him home. 

Until it was suggested that they go back to Vulcan anyway. For a visit. Just for a little while. 

Leo had only ever been to Vulcan on one occasion - for Spock’s koon-ut-kal-if-fee, which was something he preferred not to think about for obvious reasons. At the time he’d been introduced to the saddest cast of characters he’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. Spock’s wife. Her boyfriend. T’Pau. Many men wearing helmets. Leonard honestly would have preferred not to go back, but Spock had a convincing argument.

Their wedding - their human marriage ceremony - had been aboard the Enterprise, Jim Kirk presiding as was customary on a starship. It hadn’t been open to the public, but some members of the senior staff were present and there was a small reception. It was quaint, and done entirely for Leonard’s satisfaction. After all, the Vulcan ritual was much more intimate and occurred behind closed doors. The joining of two minds was not something you did in public. 

Leonard had no family to share the news with. He’d written to Joanna. She seemed happy for the two of them, but their relationship was far removed and existed only over subspace messages. Her relationship to Spock was non-existent. Other than that, there was no one to tell...except Spock’s parents. 

Leonard had only met Spock’s parents on one occasion. It was during a diplomatic mission to Babel when Ambassador Sarek was a guest aboard the Enterprise. He hadn’t warmed up to the ambassador - not that he was surprised - but Spock’s mother was a lovely woman whose company Leonard had enjoyed very much. Fast forward a few hours and he’d had to perform surgery on Spock and his father at the same time during a crisis. There hadn’t been any time to talk to them about the marriage, but something in Leo’s head kept nagging him. He thought it was important they should know. 

“I disagree. I recall my mother being quite taken with you. I believe she called you a ‘charmer’.” Spock was always good at calming his nerves. There was something so logical about the way he argued. Even if he was lying, he made it sound like he was just presenting a set of facts. 

Leonard frowned. “Well,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I did enjoy talking to her.” It wasn’t Sarek and Amanda’s company that was worrying him. It wasn’t even the trip to Vulcan, which would take a few days’ travel. It was the feeling of isolation. Once they set foot on Vulcan, Leonard would be the only human in the vicinity, not counting Mrs. Sarek herself. Amanda at least had the advantage of being intimately familiar with Vulcan culture and living on the planet for a large portion of her life. She was no longer an outsider. Not only was Leonard a complete stranger, but he was also their son’s husband - a move that presented as totally illogical in the eyes of many Vulcans. 

Spock had been paying attention to his train of thought, it seemed because he frowned at this. “Clarify.”

“Vulcans only marry and mate for procreation,” the doctor reasoned. “We can’t procreate, so what is the point of our marriage? It’s not logical.”

Spock’s frown deepened. “‘What is the point of our marriage?’” he echoed.

“Oh, Spock, c’mon. You know that’s not my opinion, I just mean that’s what the Vulcan public will think. That’s what your parents will think. You aren’t carrying on the S'chn T'gai line. It ends with..ah...it ends with me, I suppose.”

Spock was, of course, not quick to anger, and he considered these statements at the face value without personal offense. “You are assuming, I think, that Vulcan marriages are only initiated when the circumstances are logical.”

“Well, yes.”

“When, in fact, you witness T’Pring end our koon-ut-so'lik due to her preference for Stonn.”

“That’s different, Spock.”

“How so?”

“Well...they can still have children.”

“It would have been far more logical for T’Pring to carry through with her betrothal to me. It would have caused a lot less inconvenience. She willingly sacrificed the life of another so she could marry Stonn, effectively trading either my life or the life of the Captain for her own selfish wishes.” 

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were disappointed in her.”

Spock sighed and shifted to face the doctor more directly. “All I am saying, Leonard, is that what is ‘logical’ is not always the same for every person. It is logical to spend the rest of your life with someone whose company you enjoy, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me, Mister. I’m perfectly happy with our arrangement.” He smiled and held his hand out which Spock held gently between his own. He watched as his husband traced patterns in the back of his knuckles. 

“My father believed something similar when he elected to marry my mother. He thought the situation was ‘illogical’ and that he was foolish for pursuing such a relationship.” Spock’s words seemed steeped in sadness, but it didn’t show on his features. “My mother felt alienated. She worried she would not be welcome on Vulcan.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” Spock settled his gaze on Leonard’s eyes. “Nothing happened. My parents, as other families, lived their lives in private. They were happy. They lived average lives.” He paused for a moment before adding, “It would be logical to assume the others were just as concerned with their own worries.” 

“So you’re saying Vulcan couples have their own issues to deal with.”

“Affirmative.”

“I get what you’re saying here, Darlin’, but these are your parents. They want what’s best for you-”

“I know what’s best for me. They have the utmost confidence in my sense of judgment. And if they disagree with my decision to marry you-” He raised one eyebrow. “I do not care. It is none of their concern.” 

Leonard’s face broke into a smile at this comment. “Aw...you damn romantic.”

“The notion of ‘getting a blessing’ from your significant other’s parents is a human one, Leonard. Vulcan’s do not involve their parents in their mating habits.”

“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds weird.” 

Spock squeezed the doctor’s hand ever so slightly, and they both felt a surge of reassurance through their bond. “Everything will be fine.”

[lenievi]

MCCOY: Well, Mister Spock, if you're going into the lion's den, you'll need a medical officer. SPOCK: Daniel, as I recall, had only his faith. But I welcome your company, Doctor. 

[v-thinks-on]

The Adventure of the Dead Duke

Part 6 of Generations

First | Previous | Next

Note: Please pardon this slight detour into a holographic recreation of 19th century London, where our noble heroes will solve a most perplexing mystery. (This chapter also features conversations between Spock and Data, and Kirk and La Forge, so it’s not entirely fluff.)

Jim struggled with his waistcoat. At least the new Starfleet uniforms were simple. Under all these layers, he didn’t know how he was going to manage to walk around the holodeck without burning up, let alone chase down some holographic criminal. But the costumes were impressive, he would give them that.

He drew out a large circular watch from his breast pocket and flipped it open like a communicator. “We should go. We don’t want to be late for the game.”

Spock quirked an eyebrow at Jim. He looked quite striking. He wore his heavy British overcoat like a Vulcan robe; long and flowing. Underneath was a black waistcoat that accentuated his sturdy figure, and a white undershirt for contrast. His stern expression - concealing bemusement - completed the image.

Jim couldn’t help but grin at the sight.

“We are fortunate that the male corset had fallen out of fashion by the late 19th century,” Spock remarked.

Jim just gave him a look and shrugged on his own overcoat.

Before they stepped out the door, Spock gave Jim a final once-over. “You make a highly respectable Dr. Watson.”

“You don’t make a bad looking Sherlock Holmes, yourself.”

With Spock’s permission, Jim gave him a quick peck on the lips. Their fingers brushed together, sending a rush of emotion through the bond to accompany the gentle kiss.

When they drew apart, Spock said, “I advise that you exercise caution in the holodeck. Such behavior would have been considered scandalous.”

“I’ll be careful,” Jim assured him with a wry smile.

Jim gestured for Spock to lead the way out into the corridor.

Kirk and Spock arrived at the holodeck to find that the interior had already been transformed into a cluttered, but cozy living room, right out of the past, with wooden furniture and scattered papers. The windows on the far side of the room looked out on a smoggy 19th century London street.

Data and La Forge had claimed the chairs in front of the fireplace. Data was dressed in the classic deer-stalker hat and Inverness cape, casually bowing at a replicated violin as though it was the most natural thing in the world - he played beautifully. La Forge had opted for what seemed to be the standard waistcoat. He wasn’t wearing an overcoat, which Kirk took as sufficient reason to leave his on a peg by the door as he entered.

Without glancing up at the new arrivals, Data said, “Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, welcome to 221B Baker Street.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Thank you, Mr. Holmes.”

Suddenly, they heard someone knocking at a door behind them.

Kirk turned to find that the entrance to the holodeck had been replaced by another wall, in the center of which was the front door to the apartment. He hastily stepped aside and let Spock answer the door. A distressed young man, presumably well dressed for the period, with long, wavy blond hair, hurried inside.

The young man froze as he realized just how many people were present. “I’m looking for Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” he explained, glancing between all the possible candidates.

At last, Data put aside his violin and faced his visitor. “You are the son of a duke, recently deceased, here to ask about his murder. You suspect a member of your household.”

The young man stood open-mouthed at the declaration. “How- how do you know that?”

“Your attire is only befitting of someone of such a rank, but no higher, that you are in mourning is obvious by your black suit, and your suspicion is why you are here,” Data rattled off as though he were taking readings in engineering.

“Why, that is remarkable!” the young man exclaimed. “You have it exactly right!”

“Why don’t you have a seat and tell us about it?” Kirk suggested, gesturing toward the empty couch.

The young man seemed startled by the interjection. “O-Of course.” But he hesitated to sit down. “I mean no disrespect, gentlemen” - he glanced back at Kirk and Spock - “but this is a very delicate matter. I understand that to enlist the services of Mr. Holmes is to also call upon Dr. Watson” - he nodded at La Forge - “but I would prefer as few people to know as possible.”

“Certainly,” Spock said, reassuring in his unemotional confidence. “No word of your troubles will leave the present company. I am, in a manner of speaking, an older brother to Sherlock Holmes” - he gestured at Data - “with some powers of deduction of my own. This is my own Dr. Watson.” He motioned toward Kirk, who smiled at the young man in greeting.

“My apologies, Mr. Holmes,” the young man said to Spock. “If you are anything like your renown brother, then perhaps the more the better.”

His concerns assuaged, the young man sat down on the couch and began his tale propper, “My name is Harry Daniels. My father, the duke, died some weeks ago, passing his title on to my uncle, Claud. Just two days ago, he announced his engagement to my mother, Gertrude-”

Data cut him off, “You believe it was your uncle who murdered your father.”

Mr. Daniels hesitated. “I suspect, but I do not know. In short, I wish for you, Mr. Holmes” - he glanced between Data and Spock - “to prove whether my uncle is guilty or innocent.”

“Your uncle is innocent,” Data declared.

“How do you know that?” La Forge demanded. “I made sure this wasn’t just another Sherlock Holmes case!”

“I am aware,” Data said. “The case would be too simple if it was as Mr. Daniels suggests.”

Mr. Daniels made to protest.

Before he could get out a word, Data leaped to his feet and continued, “But we will take your case and uncover who it was that did murder your father.” He turned to La Forge - “Come along, Watson, we have a mystery to solve!”

The five of them stepped outside the flat and found themselves, not on a bustling London street, but on the open British moor. Before them loomed an ancient castle, surrounded for miles in all directions by desolate rolling hills beneath a cloudy grey sky. There was a chill in the air, enough to make Kirk regret leaving his overcoat behind.

Kirk frantically glanced around in an attempt to get his bearings - the others seemed to take it all in stride and quickly made their way to castle.

“We can go back and take the train if you want,” La Forge said, waiting behind with Kirk, “but this way is faster.”

Kirk shook his head. “It just takes a little getting used to. Now I think I understand how Bones feels about the transporter.” He felt Spock’s amusement in response.

As they hurried to catch up to Spock, Data, and Mr. Daniels, Kirk remarked, “This is quite the illusion.”

La Forge grinned. “Most of it’s just being displayed on the walls. The holodeck can do a lot more elaborate things than this. Take Sherlock Holmes’s apartment; everything in that room was a real replicated object.”

Kirk nodded. But even though that was the greater technical feat, the open moor was still more impressive. He almost forgot he was on a starship in outer space, not on the surface of a planet.

“My uncle is out, so you can see anything you like,” Mr. Daniels was saying as Kirk and La Forge met the others by the door.

The door swung open and they were greeted by a prim and proper butler.

“This is Prescott,” Mr. Daniels said. “His family has served the duchy for generations.”

Prescott helped Mr. Daniels out of his overcoat. He held out a hand for Spock’s coat and Data’s cape as well, but they both declined, so the butler retreated into the hall.

“Take us to the scene of the crime,” Data instructed.

Mr. Daniels led the way up the grand staircase to the duke’s room. It was ornately furnished, with an enormous bed that looked even softer than the ones on the Farragut. Data stepped inside and scanned the room from the center, no doubt making calculations at an inhuman pace. Meanwhile, Spock stood off to the side, watching Data and Mr. Daniels as much as examining the room itself. To do things properly he would have needed a tricorder, but he would make do without one.

Abruptly, Data strode over to the bed to examine a rope hanging down from the ceiling beside it. “This is how your father met his death,” he declared, pulling at the rope for emphasis.

“A bell pull?” Mr. Daniels asked, utterly confused.

“No. It appears to be a bell pull, but in fact it just goes up to that ventilator that leads into the other room, through which an ill-intentioned individual could direct a snake to slither down the rope and attack whoever is asleep in the bed.”

The others gathered around and sure enough, the end of the rope was fastened inside a gap in the wall that led into the neighboring room.

“You think my father was poisoned by a snake?” Mr. Daniels asked.

“Yes. What room does that ventilator lead into?”

Mr. Daniels led them all out of the duke’s room, to find that the adjacent room was nothing more than a broom cupboard.

“Anyone could have gone in there,” Mr. Daniels said with some disappointment.

“Unless everyone in your household keeps snakes, we have narrowed the possible suspects down considerably,” Spock said, but Kirk could feel some lingering doubt. He turned to Kirk - “Captain, your time may be better spent interviewing the members of the household.”

“That’s doctor to you,” Kirk corrected him with a grin.

“You forget that Dr. Watson was a military man” - Spock attempted to cover up his mistake.

Kirk just gave Spock a skeptical look and gestured for La Forge to follow him out of the room. “Let’s go.”

La Forge glanced at Data who agreed - “The members of the household may be able to shine some light on this mystery.”

“I’ll ring for Prescott,” Mr. Daniels said.

The butler soon arrived to lead Kirk and La Forge around the house on their own investigation. Meanwhile, Mr. Daniels led Spock and Data into his own room.

Data gave the room one sweeping glance and said, “Next.”

From there, they went on to the chamber of the woman of the house.

While Data scanned the room, Spock remarked, “Three years and seven days ago, you asked if I have missed my humanity. The answer that I gave you was incomplete. I have not missed my humanity because I never truly abandoned it.”

Data turned to face him, the mystery seemingly forgotten. “Then why do you live as a Vulcan?”

“Because I am a Vulcan and I was raised as a Vulcan, but I consider Vulcan philosophy to merely be the beginning. It needs flexibility, which I have found to be a very human trait.”

“I have also found flexibility to be a very human trait,” Data acknowledged.

He seemed to consider Spock’s words for a little longer before crossing the room to examine a crate leaning against the wall.

Finally, Data stood and declared, “On to the next.”

As they made their way through the hall, Data said, “I recently installed a chip that enables me to experience human emotions. They are more difficult to manage than I expected.”

Spock nodded. “Many Vulcans have spent their entire lives seeking to be free of the burden of emotion. I was fortunate enough to realize the futility of my goal before I attained it.”

“You attempted to ‘free yourself’ of all emotion? Why?”

“At the time, I thought it was the better way.”

“What changed your mind?”

“I experienced the mind of a being of pure logic, with no emotions or desires, and found it empty,” Spock explained. “Emotions must be managed. They are often unpleasant and unproductive. But without them, existence is meaningless.”

“I did not find my existence to be meaningless even before I installed the emotion chip,” Data protested.

“You were not entirely lacking in emotion when I met you on Romulus. Your desire to be human is an emotional one. You expressed disappointment at the thought that I had abandoned that which you have sought all your life.”

“I was not capable of experiencing emotion at the time,” Data insisted.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “Even Vulcans have emotions. Your feelings may not have been recognizably human, but that does not make them nonexistent.”

Data seemed unconvinced.

“Human emotions are particularly volatile,” Spock continued, “But they appear to be manageable.”

“Are Vulcan emotions different from Human emotions?”

 “It is difficult to tell. From a young age we are taught to handle them so differently that they become different, even if there is no inherent distinction between them.”

Data fell silent as they entered Mr. Daniels’s uncle’s room.

While Data scanned the room, Spock approached Mr. Daniels and asked, “Why do you suspect your uncle?”

The young man hesitated. “I hardly believe it myself. I would say I had gone mad, but I only went out to see because the servants were talking about it...” he trailed off.

Spock pressed him, “Any evidence you can provide may be essential to uncovering the culprit.”

Mr. Daniels nodded and reluctantly continued, “They said they had seen the ghost of my late father, that he was calling for me. I had no choice; I went out on the ramparts in the middle of the night and there he was, solemn and proud, shimmering in the darkness. He told me that his death was no accident, that my uncle murdered him and now he’s going to marry my mother. I don’t know whether to believe him, to believe my own eyes, but I couldn’t just do nothing!”

Once it was clear that Mr. Daniels’s account was complete, Spock asked, “You are certain that the ghost resembled your deceased father?”

“I think so,” Mr. Daniels said. “I couldn’t see him clearly in the dark, but…” he trailed off. “I don’t know what to believe.”

“You made the correct decision in seeking out Sherlock Holmes,” Spock said. “This case holds many points of interest, and when we have eliminated the impossible, we will find the truth.”

Meanwhile, Prescott let Kirk and La Forge back downstairs.

“The duke has a very large household,” Prescott explained. “I, my two children, and all the servants live in the castle.”

“That’s a lot of suspects…” La Forge said. “Do you know if anyone didn’t like the old duke?”

“He was well loved by his people and the servants alike,” Prescott said a little stiffly.

“What do you make of his successor?” Kirk asked.

“My family has served the duke for generations,” Prescott said, “I do my duty.”

“What about Harry Daniels?” La Forge attempted. “What do you think about him?”

“His behavior has been very erratic of late. The whole household has been concerned about him, especially my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” Kirk asked.

“She is enamored with him,” Prescott admitted with some disapproval, but he hastily smoothed out his expression as he let them into the drawing room.

Inside was the duchess in a long black dress, sitting on the couch. All around her was brightly colored cloth that she was hard at work embroidering in a floral pattern. She glanced up upon their arrival.

Kirk gave her an easy smile. “Is it alright if we ask you a few questions.”

She put aside the cloth she was working on. “Certainly.”

Kirk took a seat in the chair next to Mrs. Daniels and turned to her with a more serious expression. “We have some questions about your late husband,” he said delicately. “Do you know of anyone who didn’t like him for any reason?”

She shook her head. “He was a good man.”

“Are you sure?” Kirk pressed, leaning in a little closer. “Not even the smallest argument?”

“Well, he and old Duke Forester were rivals for decades, but there wasn’t really anything to it, and anyway, Forester died years ago. I suppose there are always enemies of the state.” You must have heard about the inquest. His death was a tragedy, but it was his time.” She gave a sad sigh and returned to her sewing.

Finally, when it was clear she would say no more, Kirk stood and said, “Thank you very much for your time.”

With that, he and La Forge followed Prescott out of the drawing room.

As they made their way into the servants’ part of the castle, Kirk asked La Forge, “Do you and Data do this often?”

“Not often, but it’s fun when we have the time.”

“And you’re always Watson and Data is always Sherlock Holmes?” Kirk asked.

“Of course,” La Forge said with a smile. “Data likes having the chance to show off. Usually I just follow him around while he does his thing - taking notes for the stories I’ll write of our adventures.”

“I see...” Kirk said. “It’s fun for a game, but I don’t envy Dr. Watson.”

“No, I guess not - at least out there, I know what I’m doing. But this is a nice break.”

“I suppose,” Kirk said. After a moment’s hesitation, he remarked lightly, “I used to be Spock’s commanding officer. I guess I’m not used to having things the other way around.”

But Kirk would have to get used to it. As an ambassador, Spock certainly out-ranked him. On Romulus, all Kirk would be doing was following Spock around, but he would find some way to make himself useful.

“No interest in command?” Kirk asked, diverting the conversation from his more serious thoughts.

La Forge shook his head. “I’m happy in the engine room.”

Kirk nodded in understanding. “Scotty felt the same.”

Suddenly, Kirk felt Spock’s presence in his mind. It was always there, but now it was clear and sharply defined. He was upstairs, in the servant’s quarters - in Prescott’s room.

Bring Prescott, Spock instructed. Do not let him out of your sight.

“Captain!” La Forge was saying. “Are you alright.”

Kirk’s eyes blinked open. He was downstairs, with La Forge.

“I just heard something, coming from upstairs,” Kirk attempted to cover for the momentary lapse with urgency.

“Are you alright?” La Forge asked. “It seemed like what happened at dinner the other night.”

Kirk waved it off. “I’m fine. It just sounded like something fell upstairs. We should check on it, and then we can start interviewing the servants.”

“If you’re sure,” La Forge said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

“What’s the fastest way upstairs?” Kirk asked Prescott.

Prescott led them to the stairs. “But I heard nothing,” he insisted.

La Forge gave Kirk a concerned glance and Kirk just smiled back.

With Spock’s help, Kirk directed them to Prescott’s rooms. The door was open and inside stood Spock, Data, and Mr. Daniels.

Data strode up to Prescott and declared, “He is the culprit.”

Prescott ignored the others, pleading only to Mr. Daniels, “My lord, what is the meaning of this?”

“Did you kill my father?” Mr. Daniels demanded. His voice shook with emotion.

“Of course not!” Prescott protested. “I would never!”

“The evidence is conclusive,” Data insisted. “With my magnifying glass” - which he was still holding in his hand - “I can see the scales on the basket where you kept the snake. And on the shelf is the fluorescent powder you used to disguise yourself as the duke.” 

“Why did you do it?” Mr. Daniels cried. “He was a good man, even to the servants!”

“I do not believe Mr. Prescott acted alone,” Spock remarked. His demeanor remained serious, but Kirk could feel his wry amusement. “There is only one man who stands to gain from the scene that would unfold.”

“What do you mean?” Mr. Daniels asked.

“It would be best for you to see for yourself.” Spock caught Kirk’s eye and Kirk felt a spark of mischief. “Afterall, the play’s the thing to catch the conscience of the king.”

Prescott was restrained and locked away in his room. All of the other players gathered out on the grounds. Winds buffeted the open moor. Thankfully, La Forge had manipulated the program to retrieve Kirk’s overcoat from Baker Street. Now, it billowed out around him, though he didn’t look nearly as dramatic as Spock; a tall, stark figure in a fluttering black coat, looking out on the moor.

Kirk sidled up next to him. For a moment they just stood side by side. Kirk marveled at the open expanse, somehow condensed to fit on a starship. Their fingertips brushed together in a familiar gesture, and restrained affection passed between them. Kirk detected some metaphor about the changeability of nature that he didn’t have time to decipher.

“Everyone’s ready,” Kirk said at last.

“Good,” Spock said.

Finally, their fingers separated and they returned to the assembly gathered on the castle grounds. The servants had put up a small pavilion. In the middle were the young Mr. Daniels and Mr. Prescott’s son, Layton, prepared to duel for Prescott’s honor, with epees in hand. Data, La Forge and many of the servants had gathered around to watch the scene unfold, and on the far end were the duke and duchess, overseeing the whole proceeding from wooden thrones.

Spock positioned himself on the sidelines, just on the edge of the makeshift arena, to referee the duel, while Kirk joined Data in the audience. La Forge was positioned near the duke and duchess to direct them.

Spock raised his hand. The duelists saluted each other with their swords as Picard had taught Kirk to, and then the bout began. They seemed to size each other up, scuttling in and out in strange, almost galloping steps. Their blades met in the middle with a sharp clang and circled each other, one way and then the other.

And then with a sudden lunge, Mr. Daniels scored the first point.

The duel resumed. This time, their blades met in the middle almost immediately. Mr. Prescott tried for a hit, but was deflected. He knocked aside Mr. Daniels’s sword, but before he could lunge, Mr. Daniels slipped out of the parry and pricked Mr. Prescott’s hand, scoring the second point.

La Forge signaled to the duchess and she stood to propose a toast to her son. Her voice wavered, but it didn’t carry well anyway. The impression was clear enough, and she downed the glass of wine, sealing her fate.

As soon as she drank the wine, Spock signaled to Mr. Prescott to lunge for Mr. Daniels, striking him with his sword. Mr. Daniels struck back, knocking the sword out of Mr. Prescott’s hands. Mr. Prescott grabbed a conveniently placed platter to defend himself. He withstood a few more blows before he pushed back, knocking Mr. Daniels’s sword aside. The sword fell out of Mr. Daniels’s hands a little belatedly, but it did the trick.

Disarmed, Mr. Daniels dove for Mr. Prescott’s fallen sword - Spock nudged it toward him with his foot - and stabbed him with his own blade.

La Forge cued the duchess to fall.

“I am poisoned!” she cried and crumpled back in her chair - obviously still breathing.

“She’s dead,” La Forge declared.

“And so are you!” Mr. Prescott shouted at Mr. Daniels on Spock’s signal. His voice rose so he sounded almost uncertain and a touch manic rather than threatening or triumphant.

But was enough to cause Mr. Daniels to lunge at his uncle with Mr. Prescott’s sword.

The duke crumpled next and again La Forge declared him dead. Mr. Prescott followed, tumbling to the ground with a theatrical shout. And last, in the arms of his friend, Horace, Mr. Daniels breathed his last breath.

For a moment there was silence aside from the howling of the wind. And then came the sound of approaching footsteps, like a distant army marching upon the castle as none had for ages. They drew closer and closer until they thundered in the wind.

And then, the footsteps stopped.

“Where is this sight?” Picard proclaimed, dressed in period attire, as a soldier in bright red with a tall hat under his arm. “This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death, what feast is toward in thine eternal cell, that thou so many princes at a shot so bloodily hast struck?”

He picked his way through the crowd, over the fallen men, to claim the ring from the duke’s finger and take it as his own. But before he could complete his theft, the duke startled into action and pulled his hand away.

“Why, young Forrester?” the duke demanded.

Picard stepped backward. Around him, the dead stirred, revealing themselves to be alive.

“With sorrow I embraced my fortune: I have some rights of memory in this kingdom, which now to claim my vantage did invite me,” Picard attempted to explain.

“For revenge,” Data translated. “He blamed your brother for the death of his father. And if his plan had succeeded, he would have claimed your lands as well as his own.”

“What object is served by this circle of misery and violence and fear?” Spock declared. “It must tend to some end, or else our universe is ruled by chance, which is unthinkable.” His voice carried over the wind with a dramatic weight - apparently it was a Sherlock Holmes quote, though Kirk couldn’t have placed it.

 “There is nothing new under the sun,” Data concluded with a Sherlock Holmes quote of his own, “It has all been done before.”

After a moment of silence, the real humans erupted into applause as the holograms looked on in confusion. The actors bowed - first Picard, then Data and Spock together.

At last, La Forge ordered, “End program.”

Note: As a fan of both Star Trek and Sherlock Holmes, I just had to bring them together when the opportunity so clearly presented itself. The plot and all of Picard’s dialogue are taken directly from Shakespeare's Hamlet, with only minor modifications.

[pennywaltzy]

Fated Encounters (A “The Best Laid Plans” Story) (2/4)

So this is one fic I definitely plan on finishing for WIPBB’s minibang as I don’t think I need to do much more to get to a point where I can make a new story. So part 3 will go up at some point in the next few weeks and part 4 may go up on AO3 around the same time but it will be posted here on the 15th of February. Thanks to @strangelock221b for asking for an update!

Fated Encounters - Somehow, McCoy finds himself on a universe where he's considered a fictional character and a cat guides him to exactly the right person he needs to meet in order to survive here. But there's going to be more to this fateful encounter than he could ever realize...

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 2 | SERIES PAGE | HELP ME SURVIVE? | COMMISSION ME?

Apparently, his pod had been discovered already, as there was a man who looked damn near like the bastard Khan gleefully pacing in Molly’s flat. “Alien craft,” he said without realizing Molly had company.

“Yes, I know,” she said. “Meet the occupant. Strictly human, though, not alien.”

It was only then that the man looked up and his eyes widened for just a moment before narrowing, as if to study him. Soon the man started circling around him, looking him up and down. “That movie you made me watch, with that actor lookalike. Is this...”

“Leonard McCoy? So he says.” She gestured to her sofa and surprisingly both of them sat down while the man stood up. “Sherlock, this is Leonard. Leonard, this is Sherlock Holmes.”

“Spock’s human relative?” he said, surprised. Not that Spock talked about his human side much, but there was a famous detective in the past who had a saying he liked.

“As far as I know, I’m not that particular one,” Sherlock said. “Considering the fact you’re wholly fictional here, it stands that my name was used to indicate that I have offspring in the future since I’m well-known in more than just the UK. Whether that’s the truth in your own universe...” Sherlock trailed off.

“You know, you’re taking this remarkably well,” Molly said, looking up at Sherlock.

“Space travel is possible, it’s happened. Time travel is theoretical. Multiple universes, also theoretical. If there’s truth that for every decision made a multitude of universe spring forth...well, there could always be one where Leonard is real and we’re fictional. Hypothetically.”

“Glad you’re taking this well because I need a drink,” Leonard admitted.

“Oh! I should have offered. I imagine this is a shock,” Molly said. “Um...whiskey will do?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Leonard said, leaning into the seat. “So let me get this straight. In this universe, I’m fictional. In my universe, it could be a totally different version of you that’s related to Spock. But there’s two Sherlock Holmes’s? Maybe more?”

“Theoretically, yes.” Sherlock began to pace. “My brother shall want to study you, as he’s already started with your craft.”

“Hell no,” Leonard said.

“Get his help without letting this man become a test subject,” Molly said as she came into the sitting room with a glass half-full of whiskey. She handed the glass to Leonard. “I mean...without the craft there’s no way he can go back. He’s here and he ended up running into us. It’s fate. We have to help.”

“There is no such thing as fate,” Sherlock and Leonard chorused before staring at each other.

“Besides, I have no idea how I got here,” Leonard said. “Not like I could get back if I wanted to. Kelvin pods don’t work that way.”

“What are those?” Molly asked.

“Something instituted on new ships after an incident with his lookalike,” Leonard said, jerking a thumb at Sherlock.

“The encounter with the Vengeance? That was the movie we saw,” Molly said.

“Guess you know a lot more about me than I do you,” he said sourly, having some of the whiskey.

“We’ll speak to Mary,” Sherlock said. “She’s good at crafting identities and has the necessary skills to make it stick. I think your cat managed to get Mister--”

“Doctor,” Leonard countered.

“Doctor McCoy here without much notice, and as I believe there is a convention in town at the moment he should blend in somewhat. We’ll keep his first name, alter his appearance slightly, I can provide clothing...”

“So I have to stay?” Leonard asked.

“With me, preferably. I can help with what you need,” Sherlock said, waving his hand as he headed to put on a scarf and coat. “Keep him here until I’m sure Mycroft has no idea there was a survivor who is still alive. There are some things that can be kept from my brother but we need to recruit Mary. Clothe him and I’ll be back.” With that, Sherlock made his way to the door and let himself out.

Molly leaned back into the seat she had taken after bringing the whiskey out and gave Leonard a half-hearted smile. “Welcome to your new home,” she replied.

He grunted slightly and finished off the whiskey. It seemed he’d fallen in with decent people, or at least he hoped, but this was going to take some serious adjusting.

[annathewitch]

Falling, Ch.2: (Let’s Get) Physicals

Summary: Bones x Reader. 2/6, Annual physicals are due and you have to get the crew to attend, including a reluctant Captain.  Bones comes to a realisation.

Word Count: 5000 *eep*

Warnings: Swearing 

A/N: So part 2 ended up being a bit epic and a fic in itself (must practice drabbles…).  It’s also more plotty than part 1. But there’s some Jim, and a little Spock, and Halloween so I needed all those words. 

I still need to work out how to link to part 1… spot the tumblr noob.

“October,” Doctor McCoy announced with a sigh, dropping a couple of padds on the station between you and Christine and perching on the edge, legs stretched out in front of him and arms crossed, “you know what that means?” “Halloween?” you supplied without looking up from your console. McCoy grimaced, “worse than that, guess again.” Your head shot up. “Back up a minute there Doctor! What do you mean, worse than Halloween? Halloween is awesome! Costumes, trick or treating, pumpkins, unreasonably vast quantities of candy! What’s not to like?” Christine chuckled and you shot her a look. “Try all of the above,” McCoy retorted. “Damned pagan nonsense is a recipe for stomachache, cavities and general ridiculousness. Guess again.” You rolled your eyes and shrugged. “I give up.” “Annual physicals!” Christine chipped in, clapping in what you could only assume was mock excitement. “You’re in for a treat Y/F/N.” “You needn’t sound so damn pleased about it Chapel. A month of mind numbingly tedious work and that’s when you can get the damn crew to an appointment. Hell, it almost makes me long for shore leave on a planet full of pregnant Gorns.”

The Doctor turned to you and raised an eyebrow, the faint trace of a smirk gracing his features. “In honour of your first starship assignment, you get the dubious pleasure of making sure every last one of the idiots on this tin can attends an appointment. They’ll try but no one gets to wheedle their way out of it Nurse Y/L/N.” McCoy’s comm buzzed and he excused himself, giving you both a jaunty salute. You stared after him incredulously.

“Close your mouth Y/F/N. you’re catching flies,” Christine said, suppressing a grin.

“What’s got into him? Is this retribution?” you asked, slumping back in your chair.

Since your ‘intervention’ a little over a month ago, McCoy seemed back to his usual self, perhaps even a little less grumpy. He’d smoothed things over with Chapel, which was a relief for everyone, and you had thought your own relationship with him had improved. He seemed more personable and you found he requested your assistance more frequently than before. Even off duty he’d sometimes sit with you in the mess, presumably when the rest of the senior crew were busy. You also occasionally arrived on shift to find a perfectly replicated coffee waiting for you, and Chapel had suggested it was the doctor’s way of acknowledging and apologising for his asshole behaviour.

However, you hadn’t actually talked about the conversation. McCoy had said in passing that Joanna was doing fine, and he shared bits and pieces from her comms, which were more frequent than ever, but neither of you mentioned what had been said that day. Despite the positive effect, you felt a niggling doubt that you had overstepped your position, forcing him to reveal things he wasn’t comfortable with. It was best to let him bring up the subject if he wanted. “No! He needed a good talking to and he knows it.” The head nurse reached out and touched your arm, “It just so happens we both think that you’re the best person to get the job done. You’ve said you wanted more responsibility, now’s your chance.” You considered this for a second and accepting her reassurance, nodded. “Well thanks, I think.” McCoy had silently cursed when his comm had interrupted your conversation. He hadn’t wanted to drop all that work on you and just up and leave, but a summons from Jim couldn’t be ignored. He stalked along the corridor, not realising he was growling in frustration until he startled an ensign coming the other way. He stepped into the express turbolift to the bridge, and leaned back against the handrail. As he absently watched the deck lights flashing by he couldn’t help but think about you. Again. Since that moment in his office a little over four weeks ago, he had developed a new kind of awareness of you. Of course he’d not been oblivious to you before, but it had been for practical reasons: you were a competent nurse, sensible and a decent substitute for Chapel when the need arose.

But now his awareness was harder to define. He was constantly aware of where you were and equally felt your absence. But it was also little things like when you wore your hair differently, or when he knew you hadn’t taken a break. Your voice was more distinctive and he found himself listening for your laughter, and he was sure the familiar antiseptic smell of the medbay was tinged with the smell of your shampoo whenever you had been near. Suddenly these things were important: you mattered to him. Unfortunately he had no indication that the opposite was true. You seemed to be more open with him the more time you spent in his company, but the friendliness and gentle teasing banter you shared with him were not particular to your interactions. It was just the way you seemed to be with everyone. You were capable and independent - he had no sense at all that you needed anything from him. And you certainly had shown no inclination to discuss that conversation. You hardly needed to hear more about what a fuck up he was, his terrible choices were his own burden to bear. So he left it alone. As your CMO he had to be careful not to overstep his bounds and so far he had managed to keep things normal and professional. If he asked for your assistance a little more than he used to, it was simply because you were good at your job and you wanted to learn. And Chapel had supported the idea of you leading on the physicals this year. There was no reason not to spend time with you as colleagues, hell even relax and enjoy your company a little. 

For now, he would just have to learn to ignore the occasional swooping feeling inside when something you did caught him unawares. And stop behaving like a prize idiot. What the hell McCoy, did you actually salute the woman? Smooth. The gentle hum of the turbolift slowed as it came to a stop. McCoy straightened up and tugged on his uniform shirt. Things would be back to normal soon enough. Well as normal as they ever were on this damn ship. In the meantime he could do a fucking good job of pretending. “What the hell kind of mess have you got us into now, Jim?” Over the next weeks, you threw yourself into managing the physicals like a woman possessed. It was repetitive work, but the volume of it filled your days and you didn’t want to prove to Christine and McCoy that their faith had been misplaced. The whole team seemed to eat sleep and breathe examinations, paperwork and follow ups, and you in particular barely seemed to leave the medbay. Cups of coffee kept appearing on your desk with increasing frequency and Chapel seemed always to have brought an extra sandwich back from the mess, ‘just in case’. With only a few days left it had got to the point where there was only a handful of crew members who hadn’t booked an exam, mostly engineering officers and unsurprisingly, the Captain. You had sweet-talked Scotty into letting you track down his reluctant crew members on shift and force march them to an appointment, but Kirk was a different matter, the man was like a spectre, never where he was supposed to be. You knew that he did his damnedest to avoid medbay at all costs, and McCoy was the only person who managed to get him through the door while conscious with a combination of threatening, cajoling and downright deviousness. Chapel had warned you to expect his avoidance and not to take it personally, but you were so close to getting 100% attendance it was frustrating. “Hey, Doctor McCoy?” From behind his never ending stack of padds, McCoy saw a head peer tentatively round his office door. “What is it Y/L/N? I’m trying to finish these records before Chapel hypos my sorry ass.” He yawned and stretched. Starfleet command had grits for brains if they thought the physicals schedule was reasonable. “Sorry, I won’t keep you. It’s just the Captain…” McCoy’s head snapped up before you finished your sentence. “What’s the damned infant done now?” “Nothing, that’s the problem. He’s last on my list for the physicals, but he’s more slippery than an eel.” McCoy chuckled and sat back, “Yeah. Sounds about right for Jim. Welcome to my life! You need me to haul his ass down here just say the word.” “You think I want to give up that easily?” You raised an eyebrow and stuck out your chin stubbornly, and the doctor felt something twist in his gut. Of course you didn’t need his help. “With all due respect you gave me a job to do and I want to have one last try. I just might need to be away from my station for a little while?” McCoy cocked his eyebrow in return. “You do what you’ve got to do. But don’t be too hard on yourself if you can’t pin him down. Catching eels takes practice.” Well if that wasn’t a challenge.

Two hours later, you found yourself waiting in the Captain’s ready room. Lying in wait might be more accurate. Lieutenant Uhura had taken pity on you for your fruitless Kirk-hunt and had persuaded Commander Spock to hear you out. The First Officer had been surprisingly open to supporting your subterfuge. “The Captain’s health is of paramount importance to the efficient functioning of command, Nurse Y/L/N. As you have provided sufficient evidence to support your conclusion that all reasonable avenues to speak to him have failed, it is only logical to consider the unconventional,” Spock had responded. “Indeed, Doctor McCoy has himself had to employ unorthodox tactics on more than one occasion.” So he had gone to retrieve Kirk from the bowels of Engineering on the pretext that the Captain’s attention was required in his ready room. “If I neglect to mention that it is not I that requires his attention, it will not be a lie.” Spock’s mouth had curled an almost imperceptible fraction, and you had the distinct impression he would enjoy this. As you waited you were drawn to stare out of the panoramic floor to ceiling window behind Kirk’s desk. Medbay had no windows, so it was only off duty that you ever saw the stars warping in waves and swirls of light around the ship as it hurtled through the vastness of space. It was still novel enough to astound you. Mesmerised by the feeling of being inside a giant kaleidoscope, you were startled by the sound of the door opening and Captain Kirk’s voice. “What’s so important Spock, that you had to drag me away from my quality time with Mr Scott and the warp core?” He strode into the room. While his focus was fixed on his XO, you could immediately see how he could command the undivided attention of an entire room. There was something compelling in his manner and it made you nervous. Spock wordlessly inclined his head in your direction, and Kirk turned to look at you. You had adopted a stance with legs planted apart and arms crossed, ready for confrontation and hoping it conveyed a confidence that you certainly didn’t feel and more than a hint of displeasure. Kirk stopped in his tracks mouth open, looking between you and Spock. You raised an eyebrow hoping for additional effect and a shit-eating grin spread across his face. “Nurse, you’ve been spending too much time around Bones!” “Captain, with all due respect, you must just incite all medical professionals to eyebrow raising levels of exasperation.” Despite your words, your foot tapped nervously. “I’ve been looking for you, Sir.” Kirk laughed, and made his way over to take a seat in his chair behind the massive desk beside you. He indicated for you to do the same. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure Nurse…” “Y/L/N,” you supplied. “You would have had the pleasure sooner if you hadn’t been avoiding your physical, Sir.” “Straight to the point Y/L/N. I like that!” The Captain leaned in elbows on the desk, resting his chin on his fist. He looked at you intently. “Did Bones send you here to do his dirty work?” “No Sir. This was all my own initiative.” You smiled sweetly and continued, “So when can I book you in?” Refusing to be distracted by his startlingly blue eyes, you picked your padd up and pulled up the medbay schedule. Ignoring you, Kirk continued his own line of questioning. “You persuaded Spock to help you? To get me here under false pretences?” “Captain…” Spock interjected from behind you. “I know, I know, it was probably logical.” Kirk paused for a minute looking thoughtful. “Y/L/N I’m impressed. Listen, I’ll overlook all this,” he waved his hand vaguely, “and get my Yeoman to schedule something next week.” The shit-eating grin returned; you both knew the chances of that happening were slim.

You sighed and got to your feet. “I appreciate you making time in your busy schedule Captain.” He nodded a dismissal. “I’m sure Doctor McCoy won’t mind extending my deadline to accommodate you.” Kirk looked up at you with a frown. “Deadline Y/L/N?” “Yes Sir. End of Beta shift tomorrow is the deadline for all crew physicals. The Doctor put me in charge. Like I said I’m sure it will be fine.” You sighed again for effect. “I just wish I hadn’t taken his bet is all,” you added with a rueful smile. Spock quirked an eyebrow at you from across the room. “What bet?” The Captain asked curiously. “Oh, nothing much Sir. Doctor McCoy bet me that I wouldn’t be able to get every physical completed by the deadline. It’s not important. I mean he’ll be unbearable for days but…” You shook your head and shrugged and made as if to leave the ready room. Three, two, one… “Hold on there Nurse. What are the stakes in this bet?” You turned back slowly, wanting to dangle the lure a little closer, but not wanting to startle the fish. “A bottle of vintage bourbon. It’s silly, really, forget I said anything. Thank you for your time Captain.” You nodded at both of the senior officers and made a hasty but hopefully dignified exit, before scuttling across the bridge and into the turbolift. As soon as the door slid shut you slumped against the wall, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. Your little piece of deception might work or it might not, but bluffing like that had been kind of fun. Returning to the nurses station, you noticed McCoy watching from the other side of the department. He tilted his head at you in an unspoken question and you replied with a shrug.

There was an undeniable atmosphere of excitement tempered by utter exhaustion in Medbay the next day. It was the last day of the marathon that was physicals and in recognition of all the work done over the last few weeks, Christine had agreed that the team could dress up for Halloween if they wanted. McCoy had not disapproved, though he had vetoed the idea of ‘getting dressed up like a prize pig’ himself and that was about as much of an endorsement anyone could reasonably expect. He had arrived early and since there had been no overnight patients, he relieved Doctor M’Benga and the Gamma shift and set about replicating coffee. Checking the chrono he figured you would be arriving soon and so he left a steaming mug at your station and disappeared into his office. The coffee had become his little ritual, that started off as unspoken thanks but had continued beyond the shelf life of his initial gratitude. Truthfully, he had seen your smile whenever the mug was there and, observing your pleasure from afar, he didn’t question his motives too closely. Sure enough, he heard voices moments later - you and Chapel laughing over this ridiculous costume thing. He moved to stand in the doorway of his office, watching you help his Head Nurse, currently dressed as a witch, pin an arrangement of plastic bats into her hair. “So come on Y/F/N, let’s see yours!” “Oh, I totally cobbled it together last night. I didn’t exactly pack for fancy dress,” you laughed and shrugged off your oversize cardigan. You had borrowed a blue dress with a flared skirt from an ensign on your corridor, and adapted one of your uniform aprons to wear over it. Rummaging in a bag, you pulled out a wide blue ribbon and a battered fluffy white rabbit. You proceeded to tie the ribbon around your hair with a big bow and did a twirl. It was damned ridiculous really, but McCoy found himself thinking how blue suited you and before he knew it he’d left the safety of his doorway. “Alice! That’s cute.” Christine smiled.

“Appropriate,” McCoy said drily, making his presence known as he walked over, “most days on this ship I feel like I’ve disappeared down a damn rabbit hole. Nice bats Chapel.” He picked up the rabbit and looked at you with a quirk of his lip. “This yours?” You felt a flush rise. “Yes, he is. Don’t mock the rabbit.” You grabbed your bunny back with a huff. “So if we’re all in wonderland does that make you the Mad Hatter?” “Nope.” The doctor’s quirk grew into a rare full blown grin, dimples and everything. “Darlin’ our esteemed Captain has that role locked down. We’re all guests at his mad tea party.” “I’ll tell him you said so if he turns up today. Right, to work.” You sat down purposefully at your station, picking up the coffee waiting for you. Glancing up at McCoy you smiled knowingly, and he felt his stomach flip flop. Dammit. The day passed quickly, but approaching the end of Beta shift, there had been no sign of the Captain. You were just about ready to go and admit defeat to the doctor, when the doors to medbay swooshed open and in walked the man himself, apparently injury free and powered entirely under his own steam, closely followed by Spock. Sighting you at the autoclave, he made his way over, smirking. “Reporting for physical as ordered Ma’am!” You stared mutely, absolutely tempted to prod the man to make sure he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. The Captain winked, “I would have come earlier, but it’s more fun to snatch victory away from Bones in the final moments, don’t you think?” You nodded, making an odd sort of strangled sound. “Where do you want me?” Kirk asked waggling his eyebrows. “Um… take a seat in exam one and I’ll be right back.” You watched him saunter across medbay, and hustled over to Spock who was waiting with Nurse Chapel. “I can’t believe that actually worked.” You shook your head in disbelief. “I admit surprise that your… gambit resulted in success. I accompanied the Captain to see for myself that he reached his intended destination. You have indeed understood the motivations of the Captain where many have failed, myself included. I would posit that you are quite formidable when you wish to be Nurse Y/L/N.” Spock regarded you up and down. “You are dressed as Alice are you not?” You had forgotten that you were in costume. “Yes, Sir, for Halloween,” you nodded, slightly embarrassed. “I confess I do not understand the human custom for disguise, but I admit I have fond memories of my mother reading Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland to my sister and me as children.” He nodded crisply and left. Christine, unfazed as ever by the turn of events, nudged you out of your slightly bewildered stupor. “You’d best get the doctor, you should assist him with this one.” As if summoned, McCoy appeared behind you. “What did our Vulcan friend want?” “I’m not sure, but I think he liked my costume.” McCoy frowned in confusion. “And the Captain is in exam one, Sir. For his physical,” you added. With this additional surprising information, the doctor didn’t seem to know what to do with his face, and his eyebrows did a strange dance up and down his forehead. “You’re kidding me.” He looked to Christine for confirmation.

“Nope, she’s not.” The doctor spun on his heels and rolling your eyes at Christine you followed him into the Exam room. You nearly collided with his back as he stopped short, arms crossed, in front of Captain Kirk who was lying nonchalantly on the biobed, hands behind his head as if he was simply preparing to take a nap. “Bones!” he exclaimed sitting up. “Happy Halloween! I see Nurse Y/L/N here is a very fetching Alice,” he winked again, “and you, in that get-up you must be a hypo-wielding demon doctor, no?” “Unbelievable.” McCoy looked between you and the Captain, then seemed to recover from his shock and rolled his sleeves up. “You could have made a damned appointment like everyone else Jim. Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled. “You need my shirt on or off Nurse?” Kirk asked, blue eyes wide and innocent. McCoy snorted but before he could intervene you swatted your padd at the Captain. “Don’t you pretend this is your first physical, Sir. You know damn well you keep your clothes on. All of them.” He laughed, hands up in surrender. The rest of the exam was remarkably easy. McCoy couldn’t help sneaking a glance in your direction every so often, wondering, not for the first time, how you had achieved the impossible. As you were winding up, preparing a booster vaccine, Kirk turned to McCoy. “So Bones, don’t forget you owe Y/L/N that bottle of whiskey.” You fumbled the hypo, dropping it on the floor. McCoy looked at you curiously and you shook your head almost imperceptibly behind Kirk’s back. “Uh, just gotta get a new one of these,” you waved the hypo and disappeared out the door. “So,” Kirk looked speculatively after you with a grin, “she’s something else. No wonder the crew are knocking down the door for their physicals this year. I’m glad I finally had the pleasure of meeting the infamous Nurse Y/L/N. You know she doorstepped me in my own ready room doing a perfect impression of you. I like a woman with… I don’t know…” “Sass.” McCoy replied, “the word you are looking for is sass. And don’t even think about it Jim, my nurses are out of bounds.” He waved his tricorder warningly, ignoring the tight feeling in his chest as he realised the Captain, his friend, liked you. Few were resistant to his charms when he put his mind to it. “She’s more than sass and a pretty face, Jim. She’s smart and hard working and kind, and definitely too good for you so quit your flirting.” He punctuated each word with a jab of the scanner. Kirk looked innocently at McCoy. “I never said anything about a pretty face Bones.” As you came back in with the new hypo, something was off. The Captain was positively gleeful, and McCoy looked flustered. He told you to finish up and left the room as if someone had lit a fire under him. You administered the vaccine and rubbed the spot in Kirk’s neck to ease the sting. “That wasn’t so bad Captain, now was it?” “No. You’re better at it than Bones. I believe his bedside manner has been described by some as ‘questionable’.” You narrowed your eyes wondering just how much the Captain had been told about the conversation with McCoy. He smiled more genuinely at you than he had before. “I’m glad Bones has someone to keep him on his toes.” You laughed, “Chapel and I do our best. Between you and me I think she actually runs this place.” Kirk looked at you head on one side considering you carefully. After a moment he seemed to decide something, and he hopped off the bed and clapped you on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work Y/L/N.”

As the door closed behind him you breathed in deeply, then did a little victory dance round the bed. You didn’t notice the swoosh of the door opening again and it wasn’t until you did an undignified twirl with a final fist pump that you noticed McCoy was there shaking his head. “I am definitely down a rabbit hole.” He stepped in the room and leaned against the wall, arms folded. “You want to tell me how you managed that?” The doctor seemed to have regained his earlier composure, seemingly at the expense of your own. Your face was impossibly warm. “I don’t suppose you’d believe it was simple persistence?” you offered with a shrug, fiddling with your apron. “Nope.” He shook his head with a small smile. “I don’t doubt your stubbornness, but I’ve spent too long perfecting the art of Kirk-trapping to believe that.” You sighed and hopped up onto the biobed avoiding McCoy’s steady hazel gaze. Something about it made you at once unsettled and unable to lie. You’d seen him use it on patients to great effect, but only now realised it’s power. He waited. “Can’t a girl have any secrets?” you grumbled. “Ok, so Commander Spock helped me get to see the Captain and then I may have given him the impression that by turning up for his physical today he would help me win a bet with you,” you admitted, the words coming out in a rush. “Sorry Sir.” “You lied to the Captain and Spock helped you?” McCoy stared, his mouth open. “When you put it like that… well… yeah.” It sounded bad out loud. You had been too busy focussed on the end goal that you hadn’t thought much about the method. You hung your head. “And what exactly was the bet I’m supposed to have made?” “That I couldn’t get all the physicals finished by today. We bet a bottle of bourbon.” Your voice was small. “It seems like you and the Captain are always arguing about something, he seems like he enjoys getting one up on you…” you tailed off. “So let me get this straight,” he ran his hands through his hair and you looked away. “He thinks I lost a bet because of him? You used the Captain’s own competitive streak against him?” Before you could answer you were startled by a strange huffing noise coming from McCoy, which appeared to be the prelude to him throwing his head back and honest to god whooping with laughter. Too amazed to do anything, you just sat there waiting for the doctor to subside. Eventually he regained some control, and grinned at you. “Y/F/N, you are a goddamned evil genius.” McCoy shook his head. You smiled back in relief. “You know I think Commander Spock was trying to tell me something similar earlier. Chapel’s trained me well.” You winked and McCoy felt his stomach leap into his chest again. As you sat in silence he realised the sheer absurd perfection of the moment. Needing to say something before the silence got awkward he inclined his head towards the monitor behind you. “Your vitals are a little off. Do you have a headache?” You realised the biobed you were sitting on had picked up your readings. Always the doctor. You nodded. “I’ll give you a painkiller, but you need to take it easy, and get a proper meal.” He rummaged in the med cabinet. “Thanks Doctor.” You grinned mischievously. “Don’t say anything, but my commanding officer is a hardass, I’ve been working all the hours god sends lately. Crawling through Jeffries tubes after engineers just to keep him happy.” McCoy raised an eyebrow as he tilted your head to one side to expose your neck, trying to ignore how distractingly close you were and the smell of your hair as it moved. He administered the hypo gently, and rubbed the injection site. “Idiot,” he huffed. “I’ll tell your boss to give you the day off tomorrow.”

Chapel had looked at you curiously as you emerged from the exam room, but you had just mouthed ‘tell you later.’ God only knew what she thought had gone on in there. You took the doctor’s advice and went to get food from the mess. Though your shift had ended, when you were done you decided to go back to medbay and finish off the last logs for the physicals. You liked it at this time of night. It was quiet; Chapel had gone and only a skeleton staff for Gamma shift remained. M’Benga would have relieved McCoy by now. Though the lights had been dimmed for the two patients in overnight, you could see from across the room that something had been left on your workstation. As you approached, there, next to your battered old stuffed rabbit, was a bottle of bourbon. You unfolded the note attached to it and smiled. In unmistakable handwriting it simply said,‘Drink Me’. The lights were still on in the CMO’s office. You made an impulsive decision and grabbed the bottle, and a couple of clean mugs from the sink, and knocked on the door. “Enter!” You hit the release and stepped inside. McCoy sat on the couch along one wall, padd in one hand, handwritten papers discarded beside him. He always looked more approachable at the end of the day, when he was slightly rumpled. He looked up, brow furrowed. “Y/F/N, I thought you left?” “I had a couple of things to finish up.” You held the bottle up. “What’s this?” McCoy hoped that in the dim light you couldn’t see the faint flush across his cheeks. He answered gruffly, “Your winnings. A southern gentleman never welches on a bet. Even one he didn’t know he made.” “I don’t deserve it but thanks.” You shifted nervously from foot to foot. “Listen, my hardass boss gave me the day off tomorrow and I can’t drink this alone.” You waved the mugs in your other hand. “It’s not exactly classy, but have a drink with me?” You bit your lip waiting for a response. While things had changed between you and McCoy recently, he was your commanding officer and you still weren’t sure if he considered you as a friend as well as a colleague. There were probably a million reasons why it was good idea to refuse, but right now looking at your hopeful face the doctor couldn’t think of a single one. “Why not.” Pouring a couple of fingers into each mug, you smiled a little when you realised one was Stick McCoy. You handed it to the doctor and moved to sit on the other end of the couch, fussing with your skirt to be able to sit cross legged. “To the end of physicals!” You raised your drink. “And to evil genius nurses.” McCoy clinked with you and you both took a sip. He watched as you groaned in pleasure, closing your eyes and tipping your head back as the whiskey burned your throat, still wearing that damned ridiculous bow.  His eyes traced the curve of your neck.  Oh hell. There, underscored by the gentle familiar hums and beeps of medbay, McCoy finally admitted to himself that you mattered to him too much for things to ever go back to normal.

A/N: Thanks for all the lovely feedback on chapter 1! Hope its ok to tag a couple of people, I won’t be offended if you want to be removed!

@dirajunara @spookyscaryscully

[mybullshitsensesaretingling]

My Boys

Request: Can you do a imagine where S / N is related to Khan and is the pseudo sister of Jim and Bones and his platonic love is Spock (and vicerversa) and happens Star Trek Into Darkness. Sorry for my English if it is wrong. - @novoagonzalezana 

A/N: This one was guest written by wonderful PA bae, who I love very much 

You had always known that you were different from the others, vastly so. You were always the smartest, always the strongest, always the one with the answers. School was a breeze, so was the Academy, and it would have been a surprise to many if you hadn’t been made aide-de-camp to your best friend Jim Kirk as soon as he got his first command. You just knew how people were going to act, and always knew exactly what move to make to get them to behave the way you wanted them to, which made you perfect for the job. There were times when people had questioned how you did what you did, and you honestly wondered the same thing. You didn’t know if it was genetic because you didn’t know who your parents were, and you couldn’t remember anything from before you were found by the expeditionary crew of the USS Archipelago on what had seemed to be an abandoned planet. You didn’t even remember that exactly, you were told about what happened by one of the crew members.

It all came flooding back to you while you were standing by that cell as John Harrison revealed that he was actually Khan, the leader of a genetically modified race of superhumans. You suddenly remembered watching all of your elders being taken away, put to sleep, and shoved in tubes, and then being taken as well. You remembered being awoken by the crew of the Archipelago, but then being knocked out again when you started attacking two of the members after realizing they were the ones who had imprisoned you in the first place. Before you knew it, the room started spinning and you heard Bones yelling your name as you were gently lowered to the floor.

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You woke up a few hours later to Jim hovering on your left side and Bones doing the same on your right.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, but now we need to have a little chat, sleepyhead.” Bones’s usual slight snark was quickly interrupted by an interjection from Jim.

“God Bones, they just woke up! Give them a minute! How would you like it if I woke you up every morning with an interrogation?”

“You’re obviously forgetting the week we spent on that beach planet where you spent every morning harassing me about all the things you had done the night before, but I digress.”

“You would have done the same thing if you woke up every morning next to a different piece of fruit and an increasing number of bruises on only your right leg.”

You had begun to open your eyes as Bones was speaking, but took full advantage of their bickering to close them again. It was much easier to enjoy the sound of your best friends arguing like they did best than to begin to think about the decisions that lay ahead of you. Despite your best efforts to sink back into oblivion, the realizations that had occurred over the past few days came back to you and your spirits sank once more. You didn’t believe that you could ever be capable of creating the kind of chaos that Khan seemed to revel in, but the facts couldn’t be denied. Your strength and intelligence finally made sense, as did your irrational temper and your innate ability to understand the emotions and desires of the people around you. You couldn’t help but start to worry that you were a threat to the crew. Even though you had never caused an issue before, you had no idea what you were actually capable of now, and you couldn’t bear the thought of endangering the rest of your crewmates. In fact, an evil little voice in the back of your mind reminded you that you weren’t the outlier anymore, Khan was like you too. He could understand what you could do, and he might be able to help you reach your full potential. As impossible as it felt, this chain of events presented you with an opportunity to have a people and a place to belong to again. As the boys started to realize that you had drifted off and stopped their snipping, you decided what you had to do.

“I’ve come to a decision.” you croaked as you propped yourself up in your bed.

“I’m not really sure what there is for you to decide right now, but let’s hear it.” said Jim as he sat down in the chair next to your bed and took your hand.

“This ship and this crew have been my home,  you both know that. There is nothing I value more than your friendship and the safety of everyone on this vessel. I have given my life to Starfleet, but in light of recent events, it is no longer safe for me to remain a member of your crew. There is no guarantee that I am not a threat, and none of us know what might happen in the future or what I am capable of, I don’t want any of you to be on the bad end of whatever might happen. I believe that I can get Khan off of the ship and keep him far enough away from the rest of you that he will no longer be an issue, and I will be able to sleep soundly at night knowing that you are all safe. That is why I feel it is necessary to submit to you my resignation.”

It took every fiber of your being to control your emotions as you explained your plan. You had just finished speaking when Spock walked in.

“Ah, (Y/N) has awoken finally. How are you feeling?”

You didn’t really want to rehash everything you had just said, but Jim jumped in before you could open your mouth.

“They’ve lost their damn mind, that’s how they’re feeling.” he said, standing up and shoving back his chair. He ran his hand through his hair haphazardly and turned back to you. “How could you have possibly thought that we would agree to that plan? The safest place for you is on this ship with us, not off in some far flung corner of the galaxy with that animal!”

Bones followed up in a much less aggressive tone than Jim had used. “I believe what Jim meant to say was that we would never make you leave the ship because of the fact that you share some of the same DNA as that man. You are not him, and there is no reason why you would act like him in any situation. I’ve never been afraid of what you might do to me or anyone else before this, so I don’t see why I should start being afraid now.”

While you appreciated the support from your boys, the opinion you were waiting to hear the most was from Spock. Surely, his logical mind would come to the same conclusion that you had, and agree that it was safer for you to be somewhere you couldn’t hurt anyone. You shifted a little further in bed to turn to where he was sitting.

“What are your thoughts, Mr. Spock?”

He thought for a moment before responding, a sign that you weren’t sure you should be hopeful about or not.

“I have to concur with the good doctor and the captain in this instance. Your behavioral history in the Academy and as a member of this crew show no instances of unnecessary violence or displays of rage, and your value as an asset to this crew is immeasurable. To allow you to leave the safety of this ship in the company of a known murderer would not only put your life in danger, but the lives of all of the crew members who benefit from your ability to predict possible risks and attacks.”

That was the final straw. You had hoped that it would be easy, that your guilt would be validated and in a strange, twisted way, you could finally stop feeling like an outsider and belong somewhere. It was the only thing you had wanted your entire life, and if push came to shove, you would rather have gone away with Khan just so you could be with someone who could do the same things as you. But the undeniable fact was that your friends were right. If there was anyone who would be able to stop Khan from destroying everything you fought daily to protect, it was you, but you needed the resources of Starfleet to do it. They knew you and loved you for who you were, regardless of where you might have come from, and if they could look past the events of the past few hours, you certainly could as well.

The three men were quiet as you considered what they had all said. You turned back to Jim and folded your hands in your lap.

“After further consideration, I would like to withdraw my resignation.”

“Damn right you would. Of course, I was never going to let you leave in the first place, but it’s the thought that counts.”

You smiled as your boys gathered their things and started to file out of your room. Bones followed on the rear, but you stopped him before he made it out the door.

“Hey, Bones?”

He turned around.

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“How exactly did Jim get those bruises?”

He chuckled, and turned back towards the door.

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

[anotheruserwithnoname]

Some thoughts on Star Trek Discovery Season 1 finale

Just in case the headline hasn’t made it obvious, this post has spoilers for the just-released first season finale. So I’ll put a break here to begin.

The tl;dr - after an extremely rough start, Discovery managed to pull itself together midway through the season, and delivered a great season finale that actually made me cheer.

It was almost as if the twin F-bombs that annoyed so many people (including yours truly) during the 5th or 6th episode triggered an internal reboot of Star Trek Discovery, because almost immediately the show did a 180, upgrading many of its characters, making its plots smoother, its Klingons more interesting and becoming more recognizable as Star Trek (albeit still a dark take). And the season 1 finale, I think, showed how the show’s pivot has resulted in it feeling more like Trek after its first half-dozen episodes led many - including myself - to turn Seth McFarlane’s The Orville as “real” Star Trek.

Don’t get me wrong - given the choice I’ll still watch The Orville first, but the last half of season 1 of Discovery was terrific and felt more and more like Star Trek the closer it got to the season finale, culminating in the cliffhanger appearance of no less than the Cage-era Enterprise 1701 itself. (And then, as if that wasn’t enough, Alexander Courage’s original theme - opera singer and all - played over the closing credits. A proper version, too, not the middle 8-less version used in the current movies that is always grating to hear because it’s like the theme from Doctor Who being rendered as nothing but repeats of ooo-weee-ooo, without the rest of the melody).

This is not to say that Discovery has suddenly become a perfect Trek series. It has lots of issues that remain unaddressed. The technology issue is the big one, especially as they are trying to sell this as taking place in the prime universe. Even the Enterprise, even though it’s clearly meant to be the prime version and not the film version, has bells and whistles that were lacking in the original. This wouldn’t be that much of an issue if not for the fact DS9, TNG and Enterprise went out of their way to replicate the 1960s look of tech and design. Unless they play a timey wimey trick and suggest this is an alternate universe or give us some reason why Starfleet tech reverted, it’ll be a hard sell. And yes, it is nitpicky. Welcome to Trek fandom (a fellow named Phil Farrand published an entire series of Nitpicker’s Guide books in the 1990s listing literally thousands of things fans spotted in TOS, TNG and DS9; my name is even listed in one of them as a contributor).

There’s also the matter of the characters. So far the only real standouts for me are Tilly (who finally becomes - for me - a great character in the finale; she even gets away with swearing this week because, whereas the earlier F-bombs were forced and unnecessary, having her utter “shit” - which, to be fair, Kirk uttered in Star Trek IV - felt natural for the scene), Saru (who is the new Odo), and Ash Tyler (give that guy an Emmy nomination, someone), at least in terms of ongoing characters. Stamets is interesting too, but still a bit uneven. And Lorca was my favourite, but... yeah.... The rest are still rather character-less - we don’t even know the names of half the regular bridge crew. Empress Phillipa is a great character who I can imagine is being set up to be a recurring big bad-who-may-not-be-completely-bad; basically, Discovery’s equivalent of Q. Rainn Wilson was good as Mudd, but better in his second episode.

And Michael has yet to grow on me, which is concerning since she’s supposed to be the lead. I appreciate the fact that she’s embodying the Starfleet ideal, and her “find another way” attitude when dealing with Starfleet’s gambit to destroy the Klingon homeworld puts her on the same level with the likes of Picard, Sisko and Janeway. And I like the fact she got a pardon. So from a character perspective she’s great. But I’m still finding her a bit too dry, which may be more an issue with the performance than the character herself. To be fair, Patrick Stewart was stiff as a board for the first few years until he found his rhythm and stopped playing Picard like a character in a Shakespeare play. Similarly, Avery Brooks didn’t really become Sisko until - ironically - he started playing him more like his other famous TV character, Hawk from Spenser for Hire (after keeping the shaved head and beard from filming a Spenser reunion film during a DS9 hiatus). So Sonequa Martin-Green is in very good company.

One more though: I think it’ll be a mistake giving the captain’s chair to someone other than Saru. Why can’t we have TV Trek’s first truly alien captain? He was amazing during the Mirror Universe, is the only character other than Michael to get a really detailed backstory, and I don’t really want to see some big name brought in to be the new captain just for the sake of having a big name.

Finally, we’re left with that cliffhanger. Clearly we’re going to be introduced soon to a new Mr. Spock, unless they convince Zachary Quinto to come in. Similarly, we may be lining up to see recast versions of other Cage-era Trek characters; Pike for sure, but also Number One (maybe she’ll finally get a name), Dr. Boyce, Yeoman Colt and (I can’t imagine they won’t try to make a connection here) one Lt. Jose Tyler.

I’m certainly looking forward to seeing where the show goes. I admit the show was trying my patience; I did not really like the first half dozen episodes. But once Tilly and Stamets shared that F-bomb around episode 5, things turned around and now it’s a show I’m looking forward to seeing again, whenever they get around to filming Season 2.