I know not what I DO!!!

Star Trek XI Fic (Santa's Helper - PG-13)

2009-12-22T08:37:44Z

Title: Santa's Helper
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: A little swearing and some sexy talk but, really, it's the possible overdose of fluff and cuteness you have to watch out for.
Word Count: 2,120
Summary: Written for Space_wrapped prompt 25) Academy fic. Neither Bones nor Jim go home for the holidays, and Bones gets roped into dressing as either Santa or an elf/reindeer/whatever for the pediatrics ward. Jim catches him at it and thinks it's adorable and proceeds to tease Bones wickedly. Fluff and humor, plz.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine

Written for space_wrapped

Many, many thanks to savoytruffle for her awesome beta-fu!

Santa's Helper

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” The answer comes gruff and irritable and a shade too fast.

Jim’s brain instantly sets itself to yellow alert.

He studies the sudden, tense set of Bones’ shoulders as the other man hefts a large, unfamiliar duffel bag up off the bed, all the while refusing to meet Jim’s gaze.

Hmm.

Jim makes a snap command decision, the kind that Starfleet is spending tens of thousands of credits instilling in him the very ability to make.

This mission…is going to require stealth.

Jim initiates covert operations with a casual, “Okay,” biting back a smile at Bones’ immediate, answering scowl.

Jim widens his eyes innocently.

Bones narrows his eyes suspiciously.

Finally, Bones harrumphs. "I’ve got a shift at the hospital."

“Oh.” Jim shrugs, leaning back against a wall, at ease. “You should have just said so. You want to get together after? Grab dinner?”

He watches his quarry relax at the question and nod. “Sure. I’ll link you when I’m done.”

“Sweet. See you later.”

“Yeah. Later.”

Jim watches from the window of the dorm common area to see which direction Bones is heading. Then he calls the hospital to confirm Bones really is on shift. Upon getting a cheerful affirmative from the front desk clerk, Jim shrugs into his coat and heads out to find out just what his ‘best friend with very superior benefits’ is trying to hide.

His instructors would be so proud.

Jim’s never been a fan of hospitals but, since meeting Bones, he’s spent enough time at Starfleet Medical to learn his way around. The place isn’t so bad—other than the increased risk of Bones sticking him with a hypo of vitamins or antihistamines or something whenever they’re on hospital grounds.

But the nurses are hot. That makes up for a lot, not that Bones will actually date any of them, grumbling about ethics and respecting boundaries whenever Jim brings it up. Jim’s response to Bones’ response being that, clearly Bones has never watched any of the three hundred and seventy-two medical dramas that demonstrate correct doctor/nurse relationship etiquette.

Unsurprisingly, Bones meets this argument with disdain.

The front desk looks busy so Jim wanders up to where Bones usually works when he’s not in surgery. Nothing. Hmm. Phase two. He looks for his favorite nurse in all the world and grins when he spots her in front of a terminal, entering data into a screen with a practiced hand.

“Hey, gorgeous. When’re you gonna run away with me?”

Mavis Elkwater looks at him and arches a silver eyebrow. She’s sixty, 5’2”, comfortably pudgy and she doesn’t let Jim get away with bullshit. He kind of loves her.

“Mr. Kirk, I’m working.”

“Which is why you should run away with me, so you can stop working and live a life of wanton luxury.”

She looks skeptical. “That would be on your currently non-existent Starfleet salary?”

“Nah, I’d support us with a life of crime.”

She rolls her eyes and starts entering data again.

“Uh, is Bones…”

She stops entering data to give him a gimlet eyed stare.

He tries to look innocent.

She doesn’t look impressed.

Finally, she humphs. “The pediatric ward on seventeen. Be nice.” It’s an order.

It’s like she doesn’t know him at all.

He steps out on seventeen, greeted by an excited jumble of happy laughter and childish voices that makes him smile.

And then he hears a gruff and hearty, “Ho, ho, ho!” that makes him blink.

Because that, “Ho, ho, ho,” sounded awfully familiar. In fact, it sounded just like…

“Santa!”

Jim rounds the corner to find kids in PJ’s and robes surrounding a figure dressed in familiar red and white. The healthier and bolder kids are up close, giggling and chattering, patting at his bright red suit while others hang back, shy. There are more kids propped up against pillows on beds, grinning, or—for the really young ones—peering warily at the strange guy in the strange suit, probably wondering who the heck he is.

Jim knows who he is.

Santa’s back may be to him, and there may be a hat and snowy white wig and a lot of padding as disguise but, yeah, that? Is definitely Bones. The height and the set of his shoulders are unmistakable. And Jim knows that voice—even engaged in the unfamiliar activity of actual jolly laughter—down to his, well…bones.

He finds himself grinning because, Jesus, it’s adorable. Bones is playing Santa Claus and it’s just…so…cute. And cute is not a word Jim normally associates with his best friend. Grumpy, cynical, acid tongued, and insanely hot…yes, all words that apply. But cute? That’s a new one.

Then Jim’s grin goes a little evil because, well, Bones is playing Santa Claus. In front of witnesses. A saint would be tempted to…okay, well, a saint would probably leave it alone.

Fortunately, sainthood has never been Jim’s calling.

“Santa!” he cries enthusiastically and watches with rising glee as the familiar shoulders stiffen and, after a long pause, ‘Jolly’ Saint Nick slowly turns and glares at him. Yep. He’d know that expression of impending wrath anywhere.

He sees Bones open his mouth – no doubt to snarl a, “Dammit, Jim” – and watches with wicked delight as Bones catches himself, glancing down at the wide-eyed children surrounding him, remembering just in time that he’s representing the Man in Red himself. Jim’s grin widens exponentially as Bones visibly bites back the snarl and smiles. Sort of. His lips tilt up a little.

“Merry Christmas,” Santa manages to glare at him and smile at the same time. It’s sort of scary. “I’m, uh, visiting with the children here, stranger, so I’m sure this lovely nurse can help you out…”

“Oh, no, Santa, the elves sent me to help you.” Jim tries to look as earnest as possible. It doesn’t help that the nurse assisting Bones isn’t even bothering to hide her snicker. It’s Nurse Katz and she knows him—biblically, as it so happens.

“Well that’s very thoughtful of you and the elves, but…”

“Y’know Santa’s elves?” a little girl asks skeptically as she pads over to stand in front of Jim, frowning up at him. She’s maybe five years old, with pursed rosebud lips and black hair pulled up into two tidy pigtails. Her sturdy body is swamped by her blue cotton robe which is decorated with spaceships.

Jim looks into her suspicious green eyes and loses a little piece of his heart. Why does he always fall for the difficult ones?

He nods solemnly. “Yes, I do. See, I’m a liaison—that’s someone who carries messages and stuff and makes sure everything goes good between two groups, like Santa here and his elves, and Starfleet. So the elves asked me to come over and make sure that Santa has enough hands to help him pass out goodies.”

Since Santa’s got a huge sack slung across his shoulder, Jim’s assuming there’re goodies.

Oh, please God, let there be goodies.

He communicates the question with a sudden, frantic lift of eyebrows at Santa/Bones—Santa Bones?—whose mouth quirks in a half smile. Instead of answering, Santa Bones looks back at the kids. “Yep, Santa’s helper Jim is going to help pass out presents to all the kids who’ve been good this year.” He manages to look stern while keeping a twinkle in his eyes—damn, Bones is good at this. “So I’ve got a very important question. Have you all been good?”

There are loud, universal assurances of angelic behavior from all corners of the room and Jim watches Santa Bones place the bag on the floor, reaching in to pull out a brightly wrapped green present, which he studies intently. “Hmm, Cindy Tsui.” His eyes wander to a tiny sprite of a pre-teen girl with smart eyes. She accepts the package from him with shy thanks before skipping back to her bed and clambering up, ripping into the paper with a gusto that makes Jim grin. When she unearths an old fashioned, thick bound sketch book and set of colored pencils her smile is dazzling.

Jim hands out the next present to his suspicious-eyed tot, whose name turns out to be Eileen. It’s a model of a Constitution Class starship and she clutches it to her chest like it’s the best toy in the universe.

“M’dad’s a starship captain,” she informs Jim seriously. “’M gonna be a starship captain just like him.”

“Hey, me too!” Jim beams at her and then tries not to take it personally when her skeptical look returns. “No, really.”

When the look remains, Jim bites back the urge to launch into all the reasons he’s going to be the youngest, greatest captain in the history of Starfleet. He’s not getting into it with a five year old. He’s just not.

“Jim, stop arguing with Eileen.”

“Bo…Santa, she doesn’t think I…”

“Jim!”

Jim’s not sulking as he walks over to take the next toy. Really. That would be childish.

Besides, it’s impossible to sulk when the kids start sitting on Santa Bones’ lap and telling him what else they want for Christmas.

Damn, Jim thinks, Bones is really good with kids. It shouldn’t be a surprise—hell, Bones is a dad – but he’s usually just so…grouchy. He’s different with the kids, though, gentle and patient, attentive without being condescending.

It gives Jim a warm, tight feeling in his chest.

Of course, that doesn’t keep him from surreptitiously recording the whole thing with his comm link for future teasing, but it is adorable.

And...painful, as Jim listens to some of the kids ask if they can please get better for Christmas, so they can be home with their families. And maybe Jim’s heart kind of rips down the center when sturdy, suspicious Eileen says she wants her eyes—her brilliant green eyes—to stop “disintegratin’” so she can be a starship captain like her daddy. But when Santa Bones assures Eileen that Starfleet’s pioneered a new procedure that should, “fix you right up, darlin’,” Jim feels his heart knit back together because Bones wouldn’t give false hope to a kid, so Eileen’s going to be fine.

Santa Bones said so.

Jim and Santa Bones spend time after that playing games with the kids and admiring everyone’s newly acquired loot. Finally, Bones whispers to Jim that the kids need their rest, pulling him away from an intense game of Jenga with a nine year old named Charlie—despite heated protests from both competitors.

“We’ll finish it up tomorrow,” Jim calls back—he makes a mental note to find out when visitor’s hours are—as he lets Bones drag him out of the pediatric ward to a chorus of “Bye, Santa!” and “Bye, Jim!”

“So that was kinda awesome,” Jim says, grinning over at Bones who gives him a sharp look and then returns the smile.

“Yeah, it’s rewarding. I, uh, do it every year.”

“Bones, my man, you are full of surprises,” Jim says with completely sincere admiration.

Bones shrugs irritably at the compliment and they walk in silence.

For a few seconds.

Really…he can only be good for so long…

“So, can I sit on your lap, Santa?” Jim looks over and asks.

Bones rolls his eyes. “No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“What if I’ve been a good boy?”

Jim doesn’t know how one eye roll can convey such total scorn.

“Hey, I can be a very good boy…” Jim injects as much lechery and innuendo as he possibly can into the statement—which is a lot.

Bones snorts. “That’s disgusting, Jim. Respect the suit.”

“I’m more interested in unwrapping the suit.”

“When hell freezes over, kid.”

Jim smirks. “That’s no way for a saint to talk…”

Bones smirks back. “Really? So ‘fuck off’ probably wouldn’t be appropriate either?”

Heh. Jim shuts up for the moment, giving it a rest. But he’s not done. There’s just something kinky about Bones in that padded suit, knowing exactly what’s underneath it...

Jim figures he can talk Bones into a Santa encore by tomorrow night. Especially since he does have the vid of Bones with the kids and Bones does have a certain reputation as a surly bastard to maintain. He's betting Bones'll be willing to negotiate to keep that vid off the Starfleet intranet.

Jim smiles to himself. Santa’s going to give him everything he wants for Christmas this year.

END

Star Trek XI Fic: All I Want For Christmas (R)

2009-12-17T08:54:25Z

Title: All I Want For Christmas
Rating: R
Warnings: Swearing mostly...runs to doublecheck. Yep, mostly swearing. And sexy thoughts. And a little sexy action.
Word Count: 2,589
Summary: for the prompt 41) - "McCoy finds a file of naked sexy pictures of Jim and is all upset about it and jealous of whoever Jim's sending them to and woe, but he can't exactly go saying anything because 1. not his and 2. he was maybe kind of snooping. Then Jim gives him a real-paper naughty calendar for Christmas."
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine

A/N: Hi there! There was an itty bitty mix-up and I’m actually filling prompt 41 versus the prompt 25 showing on the master list (where Bones dresses as Santa for the Pediatric ward). So 41 is getting double filled :)

But, uhm, because I am insane, now that I know I was inadvertently assigned prompt 25, I’ve started writing it. So if that was your prompt request, it’s coming! It’ll, uhm, be a late Christmas present. Yeah. *scurries away*

Written for Space Wrapped

Many, many thanks to the supremely talented Savoytruffle for making this fic better.

All I Want For Christmas

Leonard opened Jim’s closet door and grunted in surprise. It was actually pretty tidy. With any luck Jim had Leonard’s extra med coat stashed in here and it would easy to spot.

It had to have been Jim. No one else would've taken it. He was probably using it to scam co-eds—although, no, Leonard thought with a rueful grimace, Jim didn’t need scams to get laid. If Jim wasn’t so good natured about it, Leonard would probably have to hate the kid on general principal for the way people just sort of fell onto his dick. So, odds were Jim hadn’t ‘borrowed’ the coat for a scam. More likely he was using it to play doctor with someone. The thought triggered a scowl. His coat had sure as hell better not have any mysterious stains on it or he was gonna…Leonard’s scowl deepened as he rifled through Jim’s uniforms and civvies. Goddammit. It wasn’t there.

He needed that coat. His regular med coat had been splattered with Argellian blood on his last shift, which was impossible to get out of fabric and whose smell approached toxic. And he had rounds in—Leonard glanced at his watch—shit, less than forty-five minutes.

He walked to his desk and grabbed his link, mood downgrading from annoyed to pissed when it went directly to message. “Jim, you inconsiderate ass," he growled. "Where the hell is my spare med coat? I have to be at the hospital in less than an hour and I need it for rounds. You better call me and you better have it and it better be pristine.”

He cut off the message with an impatient mutter and then paused. Maybe Jim would respond to e-mail faster. Getting his padd out he typed up the exact same message, hit send and then growled in exasperation when he heard a faint pinging sound coming from Jim’s desk. Stalking across the room he yanked the drawer open and, sure enough, there was Jim’s padd. Reaching in, Leonard palmed it and scowled down at the innocent device.

“For fuck’s sake.” Eyes narrowed, he typed in Jim’s password. He should toss the damn padd out the window but, no, he’d just leave a little message for the next time the dip shit accessed it.

My name is Jim Kirk and I am an ass. I will return my roommate’s med coat. I will respect my roommate’s possessions. Or I will find myself with three different versions of the goddamn clap!

After making sure the message would pop up as soon as the device was powered on, Leonard started to hit the off button and then paused, frowning at a folder labeled ‘Stuff.’ The very innocuousness of the description was suspicious since Jim tended to label his files with names like ‘Report that Shall Conquer the World’ and ‘List of Things Bones Should Do Before He Becomes an Old Geezer’ and 'List of Professors I Would Totally Do'.

Leonard's finger poised over the folder, hesitating. He really shouldn’t invade Jim’s privacy like this. Then again, Jim and personal boundaries didn’t really belong in the same sentence. Finally, giving in to curiosity, Leonard tapped open the folder, raising an eyebrow when he saw that it was a series of picture files with numerical names.

Huh. He didn’t know the kid was into photography.

Maybe it was Jim’s porn stash.

Except Jim already had a folder labeled ‘Epic Porn Stash.’

With growing curiosity Leonard tapped open the first file and, as the picture popped up, felt his jaw drop.

It was Jim.

It was a half naked Jim.

A low simmer of heat pooled in Leonard's belly and he shifted uneasily. Dammit, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen Jim half clothed before, lounging on the bed in his boxers or stripping off his uniform with carefree ease. Jim wasn’t exactly shy. But he was posing in this picture; shirtless, wearing old fashioned button down jeans with the top buttons undone, just enough to show he was going commando. And he was just looking at the camera with those outrageously blue eyes of his, almost serious, the barest quirk of a smile on his lips as he leaned back, inviting the viewer to…Leonard felt his mouth go dry.

He opened the next one.

It was, if anything, more inviting than the last. Jim with a playful grin and mischief dancing in his eyes, looking about twelve except that his body was all man. Lean and defined. Wet. Water glistened off of his chest, darkened his blonde hair as he stood in the sun in nothing but a pair of wet swim trunks that molded to his…

He should close the files, Leonard thought, trying to ignore the arousal punching through him. This was ridiculous. Fine, yes, Jim was attractive. Leonard wasn’t immune. Hell, they’d even fooled around a couple months ago—Friday, October twelfth, his subconscious pointed out—drunk off their asses, alone and horny. It hadn’t gone far. They’d both pulled back after a few searing kisses, a few gropes that had burned into Leonard’s skin. They’d laughed, awkward and wary, and then put it behind them as a drunken moment that neither of them ever had to talk about.

And they hadn’t.

And maybe the memories of that evening refused to stay buried, kept popping up at inconvenient times, but a little frustration was a hell of a lot better than making a fool of himself over his best friend. Because throwing himself at someone like Jim would just be pathetic. And since Jim didn’t have a mean bone in his body, he'd let Leonard down easy. He’d be…kind. Just the thought made Leonard cringe.

An image—a memory—flashed through Leonard’s mind, of the flat planes of Jim’s stomach, the hard angle of hip bones, the almost scorching heat of soft skin and the electric intensity of gleaming eyes…Leonard swallowed hard and opened the next file.

There was Jim in a cowboy hat, boots and chaps, holding a lariat and grinning. And there was Jim in Leonard’s med coat and nothing else, the coat hanging open, framing Jim’s sculpted body. Jim in shadows. Jim in sunlight. The pictures went on and on. Like a man possessed Leonard kept opening files until he'd seen them all, every single one irrevocably imprinted onto his brain.

The final picture was of Jim wearing nothing but a Santa hat—not on his head—and a jaunty smile. It would have made Leonard chuckle except his hard on was so painful by that point—and the ball of unhappiness in his stomach so knotted—that nothing about the situation seemed amusing anymore.

Because the kid had a healthy ego but no way in hell he’d gotten these done for himself. These were the kinds of pictures you did for a lover—and not a casual one. Someone was important enough to Jim that he'd thought these pictures up for them, had gone to the time and effort to set the scenes up.

These pictures were meant for someone. Someone else.

Jaw clenching, Leonard quickly closed the files and deleted the message he’d coded to pop up, powering off the padd and carefully placing it back where he’d found it. Then he went into the bathroom and grimly took care of his hard on, helpless to stop the images of Jim that flooded his mind.

He should never have looked at those goddamn pictures.

*************************************************

“Not a bad way to celebrate Christmas Eve, huh, Bones?”

Leonard thought about their evening. He had to admit, the kid had pulled out all the stops. Jim had gotten a takeout Christmas dinner from Sergio’s, a family restaurant in the city. They’d had ham and turkey, mashed potatoes with thick gravy, green beans, pumpkin pie and champagne. The last’d had Leonard raising an eyebrow in surprise since whiskey, bourbon or beer were more their style.

Jim had just given him a sheepish but determined smile. “What? Drinking champagne at Christmas is an old Kirk family tradition.”

Since there were few Kirk family traditions that Jim even acknowledged, let alone practiced, Leonard had shrugged and enjoyed his bubbly.

Over the past couple weeks, Leonard had discovered that Jim liked Christmas.

Jim liked Christmas a lot.

He’d watched, bemused, as the younger man turned their dorm room and the common areas into a festive celebration of green, red and silver, pressing various other students into service when Leonard refused to help. The kid had stopped pushing for Leonard’s active participation—well, had pushed less—after Leonard snapped that Christmas wasn’t exactly a jolly time for him what with an ex-wife who still hated him meaning a daughter he wasn’t going to get to see.

But Leonard hadn’t had the heart to grumble too much. It took a stronger Grinch than him to remain a moody, sullen bastard in the face of Jim’s cheerful determination to enjoy the holiday.

He’d put his foot down about the music though. Jim had taken to playing—and singing loudly—Christmas music at all hours until Leonard found himself humming the damn catchy tunes under his breath, catching himself with a scowl only to start humming again a few minutes later. Damn songs were like a fucking virus, infecting everyone who heard them.

The fact that Jim had been completely reasonable and stopped playing the music when Leonard had yelled at him only made Leonard feel like a more complete asshole. Which was probably why he’d relented to Jim’s patented combination of coaxing and badgering and agreed to attend the dorm Christmas party instead of hiding out in their rooms with a bottle of bourbon.

Jim had—of course—been the main instigator of the Christmas party, which coincided with the end of finals. The dorm party had somehow turned into a block party that had somehow turned into a campus wide party fueled by a never ending supply of spiked eggnog and mistletoe, and resulting in surprisingly few arrests. Even more surprising, Jim had managed not to be one of the arrestees.

So, yeah, apparently Jim really liked Christmas.

And now it was Christmas Eve and they were in the deserted dorm rec room, full of good food and watching the tail end of a couple of ancient Christmas classics in black and white. It seemed Jim could be quite the traditionalist when he wanted to.

It had been…an unexpectedly pleasant way to spend the evening. The ache in his chest for Christmas with Jo was still there but bearable, soothed by Jim’s company and the quiet.

Looking now at Jim’s expectant face, Leonard nodded. “Yeah, kid,” he agreed quietly, drinking the last of his champagne and dropping the glass back to the coffee table as they sat on the old, comfortable couch. “Not a bad way to celebrate at all.”

The credits from the last movie scrolled across the screen, and Leonard felt the peacefulness of the night settle into him as he listened to Jim’s quiet breathing by his side.

“Hey, Bones?” Jim’s voice was almost hushed.

“Yeah, kid?” He looked over and watched Jim nod his head at the wall clock.

“Merry Christmas.”

Seeing the clock tick past midnight, Leonard offered Jim a half smile.

“Merry Christmas, Jim.”

They looked at each other for a moment and Leonard felt the air shift slightly, an odd sense of anticipation building, although he didn’t know of what. There was a look in Jim’s eyes he couldn’t quite...

“Bones?”

“Yeah?”

Jim grinned suddenly, a flash of white teeth in the dim light. “Present time!”

Leonard chuckled as Jim disappeared off the old couch, the odd mood broken. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes to bask in the hushed atmosphere, feeling relaxed and, dare he say it, something approaching happy. Or at least not miserable.

He heard the steps announce Jim’s return but left his eyes closed.

“Dude, I know you’re old, but don’t fall asleep. It’s early yet.”

Leonard opened his eyes and scowled at Jim’s grin. “I’m not asleep. I was appreciating the goddamn moment.”

“Uh huh. So, anyway, Merry Christmas.” Jim held out a thin, flat, brightly wrapped package and Leonard took it, flipping it back and forth to examine it from all angles, aware of Jim hovering, almost fidgeting.

Leonard looked up at him. “My present for you is in our rooms. I can go get it if you want to open them at the same time.”

“Nah. Open mine first.” More fidgeting.

Puzzled by Jim’s uncommon show of nerves, Leonard stared down at the package and then shrugged and started removing the paper.

Apparently too slowly for Jim’s taste.

“Seriously, Bones?” Leonard could hear the eye roll. “You’re one of those? Just rip it already.”

“Shut up, Jim,” Leonard responded absently as he broke the sealant with precise moves, making sure not to tear the shiny red paper.

“Y’know my grandma used to unwrap like that.”

“Fuck off,” Leonard replied blandly. A lifelong inclination toward neatness had only been reinforced by his surgical training and he wasn’t going to be hurried along. Besides, the kid needed to learn some patience.

And then Leonard’s fingers jerked, the paper tearing from the involuntary motion as he uncovered the present.

It was Jim.

It was a half naked Jim.

It was an old fashioned paper calendar, the cover showing a very familiar picture of Jim in half buttoned jeans, shirtless; a picture of invitation.

Leonard slowly opened the calendar and flipped carefully through it, picture after familiar picture, showcasing Jim in shadows and sunlight and various states of undress. Jim, looking out at the camera, inviting the viewer in. Inviting Leonard in.

Jim had done all this for him.

He looked up at the younger man who was still hovering, standing on the balls of his feet like he was ready to make a fast retreat.

“I, uh, well, I thought you could…I mean, I’ve been kind of thinking about that night, y’know awhile back and…”

“October twelfth.”

Jim stared at him in surprise and then some of the nerves dropped away, replaced by something steadier. “Yeah, October twelfth. And I was thinking we could try that again…only, sober this time. Uhm…if you wanted and…”

“Jim?”

“Yeah?”

“C’mere.”

There was a sharp intake of breath at Leonard’s raspy order and then Jim was approaching with uncharacteristic caution. Leonard placed the calendar carefully on the coffee table and then focused on the real thing, reaching up to snag Jim’s t-shirt, dragging him gently down to the couch.

When he leaned in Jim was right there, tasting of champagne and desire, a heady combination that made Leonard’s thoughts swim. Jim’s mouth was hot and eager and yet the kiss felt like forever, the slow building of arousal somehow mellow and perfect in the midnight hour. When they finally pulled back, Jim’s eyes were heavy lidded, his face flushed and his smile happy.

Leonard figured he probably looked pretty damn happy himself.

“I like the present.”

He watched the corners of Jim’s eyes crinkle, pleased.

“Good.”

“I like the real thing even more.” It was sappy as hell but Leonard couldn’t regret it when he saw the answering smile light up Jim’s face, like he’d just gotten every single wish on his Christmas list.

Leonard leaned in again, hands reaching under Jim’s t-shirt to feel warm, soft skin over hard muscles, heard the unsteadiness of Jim’s breathing, felt the rapid beating of his heart.

Maybe they both had.

END

Las Vegas Trip (A.K.A. Bouchon for the Win \o/ )

2009-12-07T03:52:56Z

Hi all! I’ve been doing some traveling this past month, for various reasons, and last week I actually got to spend in Vegas on vacation (yay!). E-mail and internet turned out to be spottier than expected so I now have lots of catching up to do in terms of reading and commenting and responding to comments. I am so looking forward to catching up on Space Married *happy bounce*

Vegas was eating. And shopping. And more eating. And more shopping. With a couple of shows tossed in. And gambling. I pretty much just do penny slot machines and I fail at those (the slots, they mock me) but it was fun. Amusingly enough, the machines I did the best on were the sci fi ones (Star Trek, Stargate and Star Wars penny slots). They must have realized I was a fan :)

I don’t usually do reviews or post much on this journal but fic related stuff, but the thing is, we hit so very many restaurants and they ran the total gamut of fancy to…Del Taco, that I figured I’d give a brief run down in case anyone’s headed to Vegas in the near future.

I’ve listed them in order of price. It, uhm, is a broad range. Don’t judge me. I have been corrupted by a bunch of foodies. I excluded alcohol from the price ranges.

Restaurants

· Del Taco (2.8 out of 6 stars for taste and quality, price range ‘freaking cheap’) – Okay, don’t mock. Hawaii doesn’t have Del Taco and so we decided to try it for a light lunch one day. I actually had a cheeseburger. There was…a little bit of meat in it, heh. Actually it was fine for a very cheap fast food place. My friends who had the tacos actually said they liked it better than Taco Bell tacos.

· In-N-Out Burger (3.9 out of 6 stars for taste and quality, price range ‘cheap’) – Fast food for the win! Every time we end up on the west coast we have to go to an In-N-Out Burger. Again, don’t mock me! Seriously, In-N-Out tastes great, is cheap and I’m always impressed by the staff and facilities because everyone’s always polite and the facilities are immaculate. Compared to a lot of McDonald’s and Burger King’s, In ‘N Out is made of win (don't hate me McDonald's and Burger King lovers! I like their burgers too.)

· Sonic Burger – (3.5 out of 6 stars for taste and quality, price range - a little expensive for fast food) - Heh. Okay, we decided to go here because it is an actual Drive-in where you park your car and they bring the food to you on roller skates. Which we thought was so cool because we hadn’t realized there were places that still did that. The shakes were great, the burgers good, the fries good, the corndog pretty good. Ironically, we ended up eating in the small outside eating area because we didn’t want to get our rental van dirty. But we, uhm, got to watch them roller skate meals out to other drive-in patrons. Exciting times!

· Dunkin Donuts – (4.8 out of 6 stars for taste and quality, price range ‘cheap’) Yay! I seriously miss Dunkin Donuts. We used to have a couple in Hawaii but, sadly, they went away. So when I spotted one I was like…uh, I’ll catch up with the rest of you. I seriously love their donuts and I think they’re better than Krispy Kreme (we do have one of those) which is a little too sweet for me. Side note. If ever on Maui, go to Komoda bakery in Makawao for bread, donut sticks, cream puffs and long johns that will make your taste buds do cartwheels.

· Crazy Crepes at Fashion Show Mall (3.8 out of 6 stars for taste and quality, price range 'pretty cheap') – In the foodcourt at the Fashion show mall it seemed better than regular food court food. They had a good ham & cheese crepe for very little. However! See Jean Philippe below regarding orgasmic crepes.

· Raffles at Mandalay Bay Resort (4.0 out of 6 stars for taste and quality, price range about $10 - $25) – We stayed part of the trip at the Mandalay Bay located on the main Las Vegas strip before switching to downtown (the older part of Vegas) for the weekend. Raffles is open 24 hours and is considered the Mandalay’s basic diner, but the food was excellent and the portions were pretty huge. We ended up eating family style after the first couple times and just sharing plates because we couldn’t finish it all. We had late dinners and late breakfasts there about five times in total. Their corned beef hash is homemade and awesome. So are their pancakes. I loved their special fruit granola, not to be confused with their regular granola that I was less enthusiastic about. My friend was in love with their sliders (two mini burgers accompanied by very good French fries). Their bacon was awesome and crispy. Their omelets delicious and huge. The only dish we weren’t impressed with was their stuffed French toast which was on the dry side.

· Firefly (5.0 out of 6 stars for taste and quality, price range about $15 per person for a lot of food) – Firefly is located in downtown Las Vegas at the Plaza Hotel. It’s a tapa restaurant (meaning most of their dishes are small appetizer types and you order several different dishes and share it family style). The prices are very reasonable and the food is delicious - a lot of it with a Spanish leaning. They have a wide variety of items to order and what’s nice is that because the portions are small you can try a lot of different dishes. They also have a tasty Sangria you can order :)

Favorite dishes included the mushroom puff pastry, the macaroni & cheese (made with Manchego cheese), the empanadas and the chocolate tres leches cake ('Three Milk Cake').

· Jean Philippe Patisserie at the Bellagio (5.2 out of 6 stars for taste and quality, about $15 per person) – So there’s this crepe place at the Bellagio which is pretty damn awesome. They serve savory and dessert crepes as well as sandwiches, gelatos, cookies and other desserts. Winner? The chocolate soufflé crepe and the mozzarella and prosciutto Panini. Also, they have a very cool chocolate fountain and they make these amazing cakes which I didn’t bother looking at the prices because I'm thinking they're insane. But cool to look at!

· Bouchon at Venetian (6.5 stars out of 6.0, price range - about $20 - 40 for brunch, $60 - 80 per person for dinner) – BOUCHON FOR THE WIN!!! Wow. That’s pretty much all I have to say. Wow. Okay, I actually have more to say. If there’s one restaurant I recommend going to in Vegas it’s Bouchon. It’s reasonable (for food of that amazing quality), the atmosphere is relaxed and family oriented and the food…the food is freaking amazing. Every single thing we tried was good. Amazingly good. The kind of good that you put in your mouth and then close your eyes and ignore the world because your taste buds are having a moment. That kind of amazing. We went there for dinner and it was so good that we went back for breakfast two days later. Breakfast was so good that we ordered four boxes of pastries to go so we could have it for breakfast the next day. It. Was. That. Good. Go to Bouchon. Slightly more detailed breakout of Dinner and Breakfast follows:

o Dinner - While you might think of the French as having heavy sauces, Bouchon really didn’t. The sauces were awesome and not overpowering and utilized a lot of the natural juices of the meats themselves. The appetizers that we ordered looked so amazing that I decided to order something lighter for my main course. Something basic so I wouldn’t feel bad if I didn’t eat it all. I ordered the ham and cheese sandwich (also known as the Croque Madam). It was the best damn ham and cheese sandwich I have ever had. EVER. It was toasted to perfection, that perfect blend of gooey cheese and butter and crispness of the bread. There was an over easy egg on top of the sandwich so that when you broke the yolk it oozed over the bread and mixed with the heavenly light cream sauce that surrounded the sandwich. It was freaking awesome.

o Breakfast – Wow. Again…wow. The pastries. THE PASTRIES. They had a chocolate au pain (chocolate croissant) that was…I’m running out of superlatives…amazing. The chocolate they use is so good and combined with the perfect flakiness of the pastry. Just…wow. And the eggs benedict sauce was complete perfection and they make their own English muffins. The coffee kicked ass. It was perfectly brewed. The French toast was a bread pudding type that was moist and mouth watering. The butter was awesome. I’m not even kidding. The butter was home made vanilla bean butter. It had this slightest aftertaste of vanilla that just infuses your mouth. Eat. Here.

Also, interestingly, Bouchon is a Thomas Keller restaurant. I’m totally not as much of a foodie as my ultimate foodie friend J, who knows all about this guy. Apparently of the top fifty restaurants in the world, there are two in America (I'm relying on hearsay). They are both Thomas Keller restaurants. Bouchon is actually not one of them. Bouchon is one of the best restaurants I’ve ever been to and it’s not even one of this guy’s ‘top’ restaurants! It’s his casual Bistro. The top ones are French Laundry in Napa Valley and Per Se in New York. I must go to these restaurants. It is now a mission in life. Must. Go.

· Delmonico Steakhouse at Venetian (4.1 out of 6 stars for taste and quality, price range about $60 - $80 per person). Uhm. It’s weird. Six of us went and all had the same reaction to this restaurant which is an Emeril restaurant that’s pretty famous and I've seen really good reviews for. It was…okay. The Caesar salad was fine. The gumbo appetizer was fine. The steaks were fine. The desserts were fine. The thing is, if you’re going to Vegas there are so many nice restaurants that fine is unfortunately not enough to draw us back in. Or maybe it’s that Hawaii actually has some kick ass steak restaurants. Whatever the reason, Delmonico’s actually didn’t measure up to the steak houses back home like Ruth’s Chris, Wolfgang’s or Hy’s steakhouse. So, honestly, I’d pass on Delmonico. Again, not because it was bad in any way. It was good. But it just wasn’t wow.

· Aureole at Mandalay (4.9 out of 6 stars for taste and quality, price range about $75 - $100 per person. So this was a cool restaurant. It was really nice. The atmosphere was fun and they have this huge, three story high, see through, wine refrigerator that’s in the middle of the room and a woman swings up and down on a rope to get the wine. The food was very good. The best dish by far was the lamb chops which the waiter told us is unfortunately not on their permanent menu right now. I’m so glad it was on special because it was seriously the best lamb chop I’ve probably ever tasted. On the whole, I enjoyed it, the food was very good, but it wasn’t my favorite (Bouchon for the win!).

· Guy Savoy at Caesar’s (6 out of 6 stars for taste and quality, price range – ‘freaking expensive’ about $150 - $250 per person) – What was really interesting about going to both Guy Savoy and Bouchon is that they’re two very different representatives of French styles (keeping in mind that I know very little about authentic ‘I am in France’ French cuisine).

Bouchon is more of a Bistro style, more casual while still being freaking amazing in terms of the food. Guy Savoy is an experience in dining. It’s memorable and different and more formal. And although it was freaking expensive they do give you tons of extras. For example, the bread. The bread keeps coming. The bread dude rolls up this huge cart of twenty different types of breads: lemon bread, baguettes, brioches, bacon rolls, cheddar rolls, seaweed rolls, etc. etc. etc. He describes each one and then lets you choose. We all chose. And then he comes back. And then he comes back again. He kept coming back. It was a tactical error on our part. We ate the bread. Because it was freaking awesome bread.

Had we but known what was still to come!

Artichoke and black truffle soup with toasted mushroom brioche and black truffle butter. OMG it was good. So good. I soaked every drop of that amazing soup up with the amazing buttery brioches.

And then they brought more soup to the table and asked if we would like seconds. Duh. Like we were going to turn that down. So we, uh, ate seconds of the soup.

I was full before the main course came. And then the main course came. I decided to go with something new and ordered the veal sweetbreads. For many years I thought that sweetbreads were y’know…breads that were sweet. Then I realized...oh, in this case it means certain organs of the animal. I was a bit leery but I decided if I was ever going to try it, I should do it here because it was likely to be the awesomest-ly prepared sweetbreads on the planet. So…yeah, it was pretty much the awesomest-ly prepared sweetbreads on the planet. It actually tasted like regular, amazing steak only a bit richer. So I ate it. And I was uncomfortably full.

But there’s still the cheese plate to come. This was my dessert.

So the cheese guy wheels out another cart filled with over twenty different kinds of cheeses. And he starts describing them. And they sound awesome. And I love cheeses. And when he’s done describing them, he asks me which ones I want. So I start picking them. I pick five. He looks at me expectantly as if I should choose more. I sadly shake my head. He cuts five generous portions of cheese and puts them in front of me. They are amazing. The flavor bursts in your mouth and there’s so much going on and just…I ate the cheeses. My friends ate the cheeses. They also ordered desserts. The desserts were works of art. We ate the desserts.

I thought I was done. I thought I was done.

I was not done.

We were all full to the point of groaning. Full to the point of pain. And then…they rolled out a freaking candy store on a cart. It had about thirty different types of tiny little dessert treats. It looked amazing. There were tiny little chocolate mousses and tiny little gum drops and tiny little rice puddings and tiny little tarts and even homemade marshmallows. Homemade marshmallows, people! We had to try them. Again, we hadn’t ordered these, it was just a complimentary treat. I get the feeling they would have let us try every single dessert on the cart. If we weren’t in pain we would have because they looked awesome. The chocolate mousse was so rich and not overly sweet and so smooth and so…we ate the second round of desserts. We rolled ourselves out of the restaurant.

Lesson learned. Restrain yourselves from eating too much bread! Be aware that they will keep bringing you things that you did not order and that you will...Eat. It. All. Because it’s just too good to waste.

Also, I wanted to point out that, although the tone was on the formal side, everyone (with the exception of the condescending sommelier [wine recommending dude] who was very abrupt and kind of rude) was super nice and friendly. Bread guy was very nice. Cheese guy was extremely nice and went so far as to write down the names of the cheeses that we were raving about (Crottin Du Chavignol from Loire Valley, France - soooo good). Our waiter was also very good in that he responded to our more casual style and morphed. He started out the evening very nice and friendly but also very proper and formal. By the end of the evening he was much more relaxed and informal with us and even cracked a few jokes. He was kind of adorable. And tall. French and adorable and tall. We met the owner of the restaurant too and he was one of those really friendly, easy going, outgoing guys.

What can I say? I hang out with a bunch of foodies. I’m pretty much the barbarian of the group. I eat and am ‘good, awesome, not good, sucks, ugh’ while my friends are ‘note the bouquet of flavors and the subtle hints of chutney and…is that oregano?’ I am only exaggerating a little bit.

Finally, if you’re into shows, I’ve at this point seen (on either this trip or prior trips) the following shows in Vegas:

· Ka – The first Circe de Soleil show I saw. If you’ve never seen a Circe de Soleil show then go. GO. The acrobatics are just amazing and stunning and awe inspiring. What these artists and athletes can do with their bodies. The strength, the flexibility, the artistry. Just…wow. I liked Ka in particular because it’s more of a story than some of the other shows. It’s a fable/fairy tale about twins battling the forces of evil.

· Mystere – Another Circe de Soleil show. Again, wonderful with the acrobatics and artistry. The highlight for me was these two guys who were just together on the stage doing strength and flexibility holds with each other. What they could do…I can’t even adequately describe what they were able to do, the strength and control that they had. How they made such difficult feats look so smooth. One man literally lifted the other man up with one hand and the other man was doing a one hand arm stand on the first man while the first man laid down and then got to his knees and shifted the other man…darn it I’m just not describing it right but it was truly awe inspiring.

· Jersey Boys – I recommend this as my current favorite Vegas show. It’s funny and smart and has great music and a great story. It was two hours and I didn’t notice the time passing at all. It’s based on the true story of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. What’s cool is that they have actually done so many songs that you know and you didn’t know it was them. Just so entertaining and I would go see it again in a heartbeat. The cast got a very well deserved total standing ovation from the entire audience. Oh, it’s got strong language (y’know, like all of my fics *cough*)

· Phantom of the Opera – I’ve only seen the Phantom of the Opera in Vegas where they have a theatre especially made for the show. It’s actually not the complete full length version, they do cut out a little but it’s still a complete story and the singers' vocals are stunning. If you like Phantom of the Opera or those types of musicals you’ll definitely enjoy this.

· Penn & Teller – Hee! These dudes are hilarious if you like some snark and cynicism with your magic. It’s a very entertaining magic show.

Other randomness

· Pinball Hall of Fame – So, yes, my guy friends heard about this place and wanted to go, but I had a blast. It’s this warehouse that has pretty much every pinball machine ever created. Feed in the original amounts to play (25 cents to $1 depending on the vintage of the machine). It was really cool to see old favorites and new ones. I hadn’t even realized that they still made pinball machines but there is apparently one company still manufacturing new ones. Again, what was hilarious is that I did the best on the Stargate pinball machine and it decided to randomly like me because when my game ended it kept giving me new balls. It gave me about eight extra balls in a row for no reason that we could tell. My guy friends were cracking up as they were standing next to me :)

· Bellagio conservatory – A really nice combination for an afternoon is to go have lunch at Jean Philippe’s crepery at the Bellagio and then go for a walk in the Bellagio outdoor gardens. They update it every season and it’s amazing the sculptures they can create with flowers. They were in the process of putting up the winter one and so we were only able to see parts but it was actually very cool to see it mid-construction. And the Bellagio water fountains are staggering to see in person. Stay for the fountain show.

Uhm, that’s about it! Don’t even ask me about the shopping. I had also hoped to do writing while on the trip but epic fail with that. It is, uhm, rather constricting to try to write sex scenes on a cramped airplane with random people walking by. Who knew.

In closing -- Bouchon for the win!!!

Fic Rec! Graduate Vulcan For Fun & Profit

2009-11-18T09:31:05Z

Okay, I have to rec this because I flailed.

I flailed at this. There was incoherency and flailing. Flailing!

It's gen, with awesome moments of Spock and Bones and Uhura and Sulu and Chekov, but it's mainly Jim centric and it's...awesome!

Written by (lazulisong) It is 'Graduate Vulcan for Fun & Profit'

It follows a relationship of a mentoring kind that Jim has with an older Vulcan teacher at the Academy, Sakel. Kirk knows his kindly 'uncle' Sakel from the Kelvin and the aftermath of Tarsus. Only by kindly I mean ruthless and blackmail-y in the best possible way.

Witness Kirk being blackmailed into writing a paper on Homoerotic Elements in Pre-Reformation Vulcan poetry!

Witness Kirk being driven to cussing by a most bitter betrayal, his ancient Vulcan finally managing to get Uhura hot and bothered!

Witness Bones with the awesomest country doctor talk ever!

Witness Spock wearing the fugliest hat in existence!

And, seriously, beautifully interwoven with the humor is sweetness and angst.

Dudes just go read it. It is awesome.

Star Trek Fic - (Glimpses of Realities - Jimmy Kirk)

2009-11-18T04:46:38Z

Title: Jimmy Kirk (Glimpses of Realities series)
Summary: Expansion/Sequel to original short ficlet. An eight year old Jimmy Kirk moves to Georgia and meets a sixteen year old Leonard McCoy. And the years go by.
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, sexual discussions and kissing once Jimmy is older (seventeen)
Genre: AU
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Words: 4,034
Spoilers: Not that I can spot.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

This is a sequel to Four Ways Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy Could Have Met...And the One Way They Do. Specifically, it's a sequel to the section where a young Jimmy Kirk moves into Leonard's neighborhood. However, since the original ficlet was about 1,000 words and the sequel is about 3,000 words I'm reposting the original ficlet as an intro to the sequel.

So, in other words, the entire fic (original and sequel) is posted here.

Also, heh, I had originally intended to keep this one gen. Gen, I tell you!

Teenage Jimmy Kirk disagreed. Vehemently. Yeah, guess who won...

Jimmy Kirk

“Someone’s moved into the Lennox place,” Leonard’s mom mentions at supper.

“They have any kids?” Leonard looks up from his meal, distracted from his two week, on-going, internal pep talk to convince himself it’s not the end of the world if he asks Jocelyn Evans out and she says no.

“Seems there’re two boys. Their father—step-father, actually, as I heard it from Edna—moved them over from Iowa. The mother’s in Starfleet and on some deep space mission. But, anyhow, the boys are eight and twelve, and as I heard it from Divia over at the grade school they're quite smart young men based on their school records. Although what their mother is thinking taking herself out to space when she’s got two young boys who need her...” Leonard watches as she shakes her head in real dismay while his dad makes agreeing noises.

The thought of Leonard’s mom doing something like leaving him and his dad alone to go off into space is completely alien and Leonard feels a moment of sympathy for the two kids before he dismisses them from his thoughts. Because blond haired, sweet smelling, sixteen year old Jocelyn Evans is a damn sight more interesting to think about than two little kids.

The next day he’s in the front yard, raking leaves the old fashioned way because his father figures it’ll build character. Leonard scowls at his dog, Beau, as the mutt runs through the pile that he just raked. “I will sell you,” he threatens. Beau barks in response and runs through the leaves again.

“Nice dog.”

Leonard looks up, startled, and meets the tentative, friendly blue eyes of a skinny young kid, who then turns to stare at Beau with a wistful look.

“Yeah, he’s a pretty good dog.” He scowls down at the mutt who’s cheerfully zipping back through the pile of leaves again on the way to saying hello to his new friend. There are leaves scattered back all over the place, not to mention the ones stuck in Beau’s fur. “Even if he’s about to get a whack with this rake.”

“No! Don’t punish him. He’s really sorry. I can tell.” The eyes have gone a little wary now and the hands petting Beau close protectively around him. Beau pants, tail still thumping, and gives the kid's face a friendly swipe of the tongue, entirely unconcerned.

Leonard blinks, frowning. “I wasn’t serious kid. I’m not gonna punish a dog for doing what comes natural.”

The kid studies him for another wary second and then relaxes. “Okay.”

The small, thin frame is almost eclipsed by the boisterous form of Beau and Leonard grins a little at the sight, before turning back with a sigh to finish raking the leaves. He’s surprised when, a minute later, the kid gets up and starts shoveling leaves into the bags Leonard has lying on the ground for later.

“Hey kid, you don’t need to do that.”

“I don’t mind.” It’s almost shyly offered.

“Well,” Leonard runs a hand through shaggy dark hair, bemused, and then shrugs, “if you want to.” He figures the kid’ll get bored in a bit and wander off.

The kid’s still there an hour later when they bag up the last of the leaves and debris. Leonard looks across at the sweaty, flushed face. “So my name’s Leonard. Len.”

“Jimmy.” This time the words are offered with beaming blue eyes and a wide flash of white teeth.

“So, Jimmy, you want some lemonade? My mom makes it homemade.” Least he can do when the kid’s worked up a sweat helping him out.

The smile flashes wider and the eyes fill with delight. “Yeah!”

They hang out over two glasses of lemonade apiece and some filched oatmeal cookies and Len is surprised he’s not bored. Jimmy’s young but, shit, he's smart. And funny. Kid can hold his own in a conversation and his grin is bright enough to light up the high school stadium. When Len looks at the clock and remarks with surprise that his mom’ll be home from her club meeting to start supper soon, he watches the light fade from Jimmy’s eyes.

“Oh, I, yeah, I should probably get home too.” The kid doesn’t move though, staring down into his empty glass.

“You, uh, you wanna stay for dinner?” The invitation just sorta slips out.

The light returns to the kid’s eyes in full force as he grins. “Really? Can my brother Sam come to supper too?”

Leonard shrugs. “Yeah, sure.”

He watches Jimmy scamper off to hunt down his brother and is reminded for an instant of Beau.

Jimmy and his older brother Sam show up for dinner that night and Len looks on in amusement as his mom immediately takes a shine to the two ‘practically motherless’ boys. She’s about adopted them as kin by the time they roll out of the McCoy home with overstuffed bellies and an extra plate full of brownies.

“Y’all come back over anytime you want,” she says cheerfully.

“Y’know, if you guys wanna come back tomorrow I can show you around town,” Len offers. He’d planned to try to ‘accidentally’ run into Jocelyn at the pool tomorrow. But, hell, he can do that another time.

The brothers show up the next morning and Leonard shows them all the best spots to hang out. Sam disappears into a baseball game when Leonard introduces him to Billy Rawlings and his gang who are all about Sam’s age. But Jimmy sticks with Leonard and somehow he doesn’t mind.

After that, the Kirk boys just kind of keep showing up for dinner.

****************************************************

“Oh, baby. You’re becoming a doctor. I’m so proud of you.”

It’s an innate mom power to be able to invoke the desire to blush, roll your eyes and stand ten feet tall with pride all at the same time Leonard thinks, mouth curling into a smile of affection as he’s enfolded in the arms of his tiny sprat of a mother.

“I’m not a doctor yet, mom,” he responds wryly. “They won’t even let me at the patient’s for another year.” One and a half years of grueling med school behind him and two and a half more to look forward to. Except he really is looking forward to it all; to even longer hours and real life cases and the fierce competition for the best intern positions, because he can’t imagine not becoming a doctor. He’ll never admit this because it’s hokey as hell, but it’s not a career he’s pursuing. It’s a calling.

“Well, you will be soon enough. And at the top of your class. Oh, honey.” The beaming pride continues unabated and Leonard refrains from rolling his eyes only because his mother will swat him.

“I’m surprised Jimmy didn’t show up with you and dad at the train station.” It’s a change of subject but true. Jimmy vids him almost every day and he’s usually the first face Leonard sees when he can get away from school to visit home. His roommates over the years have teased him about his younger brother’s devotion. Leonard’s stopped correcting them about the relationship because, hell, Jimmy is his younger brother, in every way that counts.

A thread of steel enters his mother’s magnolia voice. “Well, he certainly wanted to meet you at the train station but he has a final today and I told him under no circumstances was he going to miss it.”

Ah. And his mother is one of the few people Jimmy Kirk pays any mind to. Actually, the few people Jimmy Kirk pays any mind to pretty much all have the last name McCoy.

“Well, I…”

The front door opens. “Len!”

A whirlwind of beaming blue eyes and high voltage energy attacks and Leonard staggers under the impact of the full throttle hug.

"Oof,” is all Leonard can manage for a minute, even as his arms wrap around Jimmy to return the greeting.

“Hey, kid,” he finally manages with a grin.

Jimmy flashes him an annoyed look, the grin muting as he steps back. “I’m not a kid, Len. I’m seventeen.”

Leonard opens his mouth to give the kid grief for the protest except…Jimmy doesn’t look like a kid, he realizes with a jolt. Sometime in the four months since Len’s last visit, Jimmy’s sprung up in height, added muscle and his face has gotten a little leaner. He’s still young but…he doesn’t look like a kid.

Not sure why it’s so disconcerting to see a glimpse of a grown man in Jimmy’s so familiar features, Leonard offers a wry half smile. “Sorry, Jimmy.”

A grin instantly replaces reproach. “S’okay. Wanna go hang out back?” And suddenly he looks twelve again.

“Hold on, Jimmy, how’d you do on your test?” His mother’s face is stern. Her eyes aren’t. Eleanor McCoy has never been immune to Jimmy's charm, always a little sweeter when it's turned her way.

Like now as Jimmy's brash smile takes on a hint of almost sheepish pride. “Aced it, Mrs. McCoy.”

This gets the expected reward of blue ribbon peanut butter cookies and frosty glasses of lemonade. Twenty minutes later, they’re in the back yard lazily tossing a football back and forth.

Leonard’s scowling. “I can’t believe you were dumb enough to get into it with the entire Newburg High football team. Jesus, Jimmy, what the hell were you thinking?”

Leonard feels his scowl deepen as Jimmy just smiles with a stubborn glint in his eyes that Leonard’s grown to know too damn well over the years.

“It wasn’t the entire football team,” Jimmy defends himself. “And they were messing around with some kids.”

Ah. He should have known. Jimmy does not tolerate those who bully the weak. It had been a hell of a problem when the kid was younger and refusing to even acknowledge that he was maybe one of the ‘weak’. And it’s still a problem in an entirely different way now that Jimmy’s put on height and mass and picked up too damn much about fighting from god knows where.

Still, picking on little kids… “Well, you don’t look dead,” he finally grunts.

Jimmy smirks. “I held my own.”

Uh huh.

“So, uhm, you think you’ll be doing your internship in Augusta?” Jimmy asks casually as he tosses the ball to Leonard, the pigskin arcing up in a lazy spiral.

Leonard shrugs and moves easily to catch the ball, cradling it in his hands. “Don’t know yet. Depends on if they even accept me.” He sends the ball back Jimmy’s way, aiming it high and wide just to see Jimmy move.

Motion is instant, a graceful dance and easy leap up, the reason Jimmy’s the best receiver on the Fullton High football team. Jimmy lands softly, ball in hand, and scoffs. “They’d be crazy to turn you down. You’re at the top of your class. You’re gonna be an awesome doctor.”

Leonard can’t help grin at that. At the easy faith in Jimmy’s voice that’s always been there since the day they’d met over a pile of leaves and a barking dog.

“Yeah, well, you can write my recommendation,” he chuckles. “But anyway, it’ll depend on where Jocelyn wants to settle too.”

“Oh,” Jimmy’s voice goes flat. “You guys still serious?”

“Yeah,” Len frowns at the change of expression on the younger man’s face. “I thought you liked Jocelyn.”

“She’s…fine. She’s nice,” Jimmy appends, shooting the ball back with perfect precision and a little too much force. “She’s very nice.”

Leonard rolls his eyes as he catches. “Well, hell, Jimmy, don’t go overboard on the praise.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. It doesn’t matter what I think.” Moodiness is creeping into Jimmy’s tone and, fuck, Leonard thinks with an internal sigh. He doesn’t remember having been this volatile when he was a teenager. Of course his mom would probably disagree.

“Well, it matters to me what you think.” Leonard hesitates and then takes a deep breath. “Because, well, I…I’m thinking of asking her to marry me.” It comes out in a rush because there. He said it. He said it to someone out loud and the world didn’t implode.

He watches Jimmy freeze, the ball Leonard had just tossed sailing past him to land with a thudding skid on the grass.

“Jimmy?” He frowns in concern because the kid’s face has gone pale.

“Jimmy, are you okay?” He approaches and puts a hand on the younger man’s arm. The touch is like finding the ‘on’ button and Jimmy scowls and snaps out of his shock, glaring at Leonard.

“You can’t.”

“What?”

“You can’t.” His blue eyes are fierce as he grips Leonard’s forearm.

Leonard scowls, trying to hold onto his temper. “What the hell do you mean, I can’t? I love Jocelyn. I want to make a family with her. I thought you’d be happy for me. Do you think I won’t have time for you if I marry Joc? Hell, kid, you’ll always be…”

"What?” There’s challenge in Jimmy’s voice as Leonard hesitates.

“Family. You’ll always be family, Jimmy.”

“I don’t want…” Now it’s Jimmy’s turn to stumble over words with uncharacteristic hesitation.

“Don’t want what?” Leonard asks, anger starting to fade into concern. Jimmy’s not selfish, far from it. There has to be something more going on than the kid feeling insecure.

“I don’t want…I mean I do want…I mean…”

“What do you want, Jimmy?” Leonard asks, feeling his voice gentling with concern at the unhappiness storming through the younger man’s changeable eyes.

Frustration glitters in those eyes and there’s a brief warning of recklessness that flashes across his face before strong hands reach up and card through Leonard’s hair and pull down and Leonard’s too surprised to react, to resist, to do anything but be led down to meet the hot, angry demand of Jimmy’s lips, the ridiculously skillful plunge of tongue—fuck, where the hell did Jimmy learn to do that—that sends a bolt of heat straight through to Leonard’s groin and it’s the urge to do more, to let his hands go exploring, to pull Jimmy in closer, to kiss back—he’s kissing him back—that has him wrenching away, hand coming up to his mouth as they both stand there, chests heaving.

Whatever’s in his eyes he has no clue, but it has Jimmy’s widening. “I…I’m sorry. Len, I’m sorry, I just…please don’t marry her. Please. Please.”

“I have to go. Into the house. I have to…go.” Leonard stumbles away, ignoring the pleading, scared look in Jimmy’s suddenly young face—fuck, Jimmy’s so young, Dad’ll kill him, Mom’ll hate him, he has to go, he has to go.

He runs. He makes an excuse about an emergency at the clinic where he volunteers. How he has to cut short his vacation and he’s so sorry mom but he has to go, and the disappointed look on his mom’s face would ordinarily be enough to make him feel the guilt of a thousand goddamn suns, but the scorching feel of Jimmy’s lips on his is enough to override lesser feelings of guilt and he runs.

He spends the next few days getting drunk and getting mad and pretending ,it’s Jimmy he’s mad at and, hell, sometimes it actually is Jimmy he’s mad at. But most often he’s mad at himself for the fact that he didn’t just laugh it off, that he didn’t just let the kid down easy. It’s a stupid crush. He handled it in the worst way. He didn’t handle it. He fucking ran from a seventeen-year-old kid who’s as good as his brother. Brother. Shit, Jimmy’s practically his little brother.

He ignores the twenty-three frantic vid-calls from Jimmy, deleting them without listening. He ignores the four calls from Jocelyn too, guilt burning in his stomach every time he hears her voice and sees her face in the increasingly irritated transmissions because he loves her. Except the only thing he can seem to think about is that kiss that’s still burning on his lips. And Jimmy’s face. And the way Jimmy’d looked at him. The desperate hope and determination and, under it, the scared look of a kid. Afraid of losing…someone important.

At the end of the third day he’s somehow not at all surprised to hear a pounding on his front door. He’s also not at all surprised to open it and see Jimmy on the other side, eyes narrowed, face a picture of pure, cussed determination.

Leonard opens his mouth, not sure what he’s planning to say, but before he can, Jimmy’s pushing past him into the small apartment, rounding to glare at him, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a prize fighter stepping into the ring.

“Just…just listen, okay?” Jimmy says, raising a hand to cut Leonard off when he opens his mouth.

Leonard sighs and shuts it. He’s fucking tired. He hasn’t exactly been sleeping well these past few days.

Jimmy looks tired too, the energy buzzing in him made up more of nerves than his normal boundless teenage energy.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I sprang that kiss on you. I mean, I’m not sorry we kissed but I’m sorry about the way I did it and, shit, the thing is I was waiting. I was going to wait and go to school in Augusta with you next year and…”

“So you could be an eighteen year old freshman and I could be a twenty-six year old med student? ‘Cause that would be so much better?” Leonard asks caustically.

“I’ll be a legal adult then and we can…”

“No, Jimmy. No,” Leonard repeats firmly. “We can’t.”

“We can, and don’t tell me that you only think of me as a brother because…”

“I do only think of you as…”

“You sure as hell didn’t kiss like you thought you were kissing…”

“You took me by surprise!”

“Doesn’t matter, you kissed me back, and…”

“You kiss like a goddamn prostitute! Anyone would have kissed you back!” It’s mean and Leonard knows it’s mean but of course Jimmy is a contrary little brat because he just smirks, suddenly cocky.

“I am a genius kisser and I’m even better at fucking.”

Leonard thinks maybe it says everything that he winces when Jimmy says the word ‘fucking’. “Kid, you’re seventeen years old. You can’t possibly…”

“Try me. Just, let’s…”

“Jimmy, goddammit, no!” Leonard roars, suddenly out of patience.

He watches Jimmy flinch back and then visibly start to regroup to try again.

He can’t give him the chance. “You willing to do that to my mom and dad?”

There’s another flinch. Jimmy cares about the good opinions of Eleanor and David McCoy. He thrives under their parental affection like a flower soaking up sunshine and spring showers.

“They’ll understand.” But for the first time there’s a hint of hesitancy.

“They won’t understand. Jimmy, you’re seventeen.”

“I know they’ll be disappointed in me but…”

“Jimmy, you’re seventeen. They won’t be disappointed in you. They’ll be disappointed in me. And rightfully goddamn so. Even if I wanted to, I…”

“Then wait for me.” There’s a thread of desperation side by side with determination like Jimmy’s just going to keep coming up with ideas until something sticks.

“What?”

“Wait for me, Len. Whatever age works for you. I’ll wait until then. We won’t do anything. I won’t try anything. Go ahead and fuck whoever you want in the meanwhile, but don’t get married. Don’t…please wait for me. Please.”

“Jimmy…” He needs to explain to the kid that he loves Jocelyn, that Jimmy’s crush will fade back into something fraternal, that this is all too complicated and it’s not what Leonard wants and…and…he looks into Jimmy’s eyes, so focused on him. They've always been focused on him. So used to it and when had he missed the shift in those eyes from brotherly adoration to this need and want that’s shining out of them now.

“I…I…ah goddammit, okay.” He hears the words come out of his mouth and he waits for panic to set in. When it doesn’t, Leonard realizes with a shaky breath that he means it. Oh, fuck, he really means it.

He never has been any good at saying no to Jimmy Kirk.

“O…okay?” Jimmy blinks, sounding more unsure than at any other point since he forced his way into Leonard’s apartment.

Leonard sighs and then scowls. “Okay.”

Jimmy blinks at him, still unsure, and then the grin appears. That damn infectious, blinding grin accompanied by joy-filled eyes and dammit, dammit, dammit, he’s doomed.

“So how long?”

Leonard knows exactly what Jimmy’s asking. “Twenty-one.”

Jimmy opens his mouth. Leonard has absolutely no doubt that it’s to argue.

He shakes his head. “No. No arguments on this one. You wait until you graduate from college. You date and…”

“I’ve already dated, Len. Hell, I dated the Bartlett triplets and their older brother and…”

“…you’ll enjoy the whole college experience and once you graduate, then we’ll see.”

He watches Jimmy ponder.

“What if I graduate early? I could totally graduate in three years, or maybe even two and…”

Leonard glowers. “Twenty. One. And you give your word. No more kissing. No attempts to speed things along. Your word.”

He watches Jimmy hesitate because while he’s scarily good at strategy and has proven ‘creative’ at bending rules every which way, he doesn’t break his word.

“My word.”

Something relaxes in Leonard at that because he’s bought time. A couple years, hell six months, and Jimmy will…

“After one more kiss.”

“Goddamm…”

“Hey! I think I’m being pretty damn reasonable, McCoy.” Jimmy’s chin is up at a stubborn angle. “You’re telling me I gotta wait four fucking years until I can have you, fine. But I think we both deserve a taste to get us through.”

“Jesus, fuck, fine. One goddamn kiss.”

“Your mama know you swear like that?”

“Shut up, brat.”

This time Jimmy looks nervous as hell, anticipation and determination warring in his eyes as he inches closer.

Leonard reaches out and runs his hand through Jimmy’s short hair, sun streaked and twenty different shades of blonde and brown. It’s soft and Jimmy’s skin is softer still as Leonard runs a thumb over the younger man’s cheekbone and Jimmy gasps at that, the soft exhalation of breath and there’s so much want in those eyes as they stare at him. Leonard feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff without a parachute and he should be stepping back because he’s never been the type to jump. Except with Jimmy…apparently he is.

When their lips meet this time it’s sweet and no less powerful, the kick of it jolting through Leonard’s system as Jimmy shifts his mouth and sweeps his tongue against Leonard’s, hands coming up to rest on Leonard’s chest, running over collarbone and chest muscles, thumbing over a nipple, leaving heat and want in the wake of every touch. It’s a low burn that feels ready to explode into an inferno and Leonard doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t ever want to let go.

When he finally steps back, he staggers to collapse onto his old couch, trying to ignore the raging hard on. It doesn’t help one bit that Jimmy’s just watching him, eyes heavy lidded, looking like pure sex and invitation, his own bulge evident in his jeans.

Leonard closes his eyes and leans his head back. “Fuck. Leave Jimmy. Now.”

“You’re kidding.”

Leonard opens his eyes and glares just how serious he is. “You gave your word.”

They glare at each other and Leonard waits for Jimmy to start arguing again and, fuck, he’s not sure he can stand against him. But as much as he’ll stretch his word, Jimmy Kirk doesn’t break it. And finally with a low groan he stalks to the door, pausing just long enough for one last threat. “I gave my word I’ll wait and I won’t push. But you can put us out of our misery any damn time.”

The door slams.

Leonard closes his eyes, puts his palm against his dick and groans.

Four years is gonna kill him.

END

Star Trek Fic - Glimpses of Realities (Prison Break sequel)

2009-11-16T08:44:07Z

Title: Why the Freak Out Now? (Glimpses of Realities series - Prison Break AU)
Summary: Epilogue to the Prison Break AU story
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, sexual situations
Genre: AU angsty humour
Pairing: Slash Kirk/McCoy
Words: 527
Spoilers: Not that I can spot.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Sooo...this requires a little explanation. I've been working on a sequel to Four Ways Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy Could Have Met...And the One Way They Do. Only the sequels to the four AU's are insisting on being different lengths and depths, etc. and so I've decided I'm just going to post them separately as I finish them.

The sequel to the Prison Break AU for instance wanted to be more of a short and sweet epilogue (unliked some other of the AU sequels which are insisting on being longer *glowers at them*)

So, I'm renaming what is now turning into a series into 'Glimpses of Realities' because the original title is too freaking long and a sequel titled 'Four Ways Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy Continue to Not Meet...' is just silly :)

Why The Freak Out Now?

“I am a space pirate.”

“Yup.”

“I am a space pirate.”

There’s a considering silence and then… “You’ve been a space pirate for three weeks already. Why the freak out now?”

Leonard blinks and actually considers the question. It’s true. He’s been a goddamn space pirate for three surreal weeks now, after being irrevocably led off the path of even the bare bones of respectability by the grinning, cheerful temptation of one James Tiberius Kirk.

Kirk’s not grinning at him now though. He’s eyeing him with what looks like genuine concern and that settles Leonard just a little. The younger man seems to take life as one big, amusing joke. It makes Leonard wonder uneasily sometimes in his darker moments if that’s all he is to the other man. A joke.

“I just…” Leonard blinks and tries to articulate the reasoning for the sudden flush of panic that’s making his heart palpitate. “I never thought I’d end up like this.”

“Huh.” Jim's voice takes on a considering note. “Funny, I always thought I’d end up exactly like this. Either this or, y’know, dead.”

“So space piracy is your destiny?” Leonard knows he sounds sarcastic but the truth is he can believe it. There’s something rakish and buccaneer like and larger than life about Jim Kirk.

“Yup.” It’s a cheerful acknowledgment. There’s silence for a few seconds and then, “Hey, Bones?”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t bother telling Jim not to call him ‘Bones’. The kid’s been insisting Leonard is not an appropriate pirate name and since he’s managed to convince Leonard to become an interstellar fugitive, kicking up a fuss over a nickname at this point just seems silly.

Jim’s presence is suddenly closer, and Leonard thinks he can feel the energy the kid gives off. “I can think of something we could do that would distract you from your freak out.” Jim’s suddenly very close.

“I…” There’s a million reasons why he should say no.

“C’mon,” the tone is wheedling and full of promises and cheerful temptation. “We won’t hit Zentari V for another twenty-seven hours.” Leonard suddenly finds himself with a lap full of Jim Kirk.

“I…” Leonard knows that out of the thousand and one reasons why he shouldn’t sleep with Jim, there’s only really one that’s been keeping him from accepting the wide range of invitations that Jim’s been sending his way since the day they met in a prison infirmary.

He’s scared.

Jim’s all he’s got now and what if he’s just fucking with Leonard, planning to use him and dump him somewhere down the road…

“Bones,” Jim’s voice has gone serious, the playfulness submerged, like he can tell what’s going through Leonard’s overstressed brain. “It’s you and me. We’re in this together, right?” The barest hint of insecurity threads into Jim’s voice as he asks, insistent, “Right?”

Bones feels his panic recede under the solid weight and heat of Jim’s body, the idea that maybe the kid needs him as much as he needs the kid.

Jim leans in, mouth a whisper away from Bones. “Right?”

Leonard’s the one who closes that last distance, mumbling it into Jim’s perfect, inviting mouth.

“Right.”

END

A/N - Uhm, I do intend to write sequels to all four of the AU's eventually. Y'know...eventually? *runs away*

Star Trek Mirror Universe Fic - "Lover's Quarrel" (Star Trek XI)

2009-11-14T06:53:59Z

Title: Lover's Quarrel
Summary: Mirror McCoy and Mirror Kirk are having an argument
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: - Sex, threats of violence, swearing, general Mirror Universe bad behavior
Genre: Mirror Universe
Pairing: Mirror Kirk/Mirror McCoy
Words: 1,514
Spoilers: Not really, no.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Link to master fic index for 'Brightness Burns' series HERE

So I’ve replied back to the last few recent inquiries about upcoming Brightness Burns fics that I actually, for the first time since I started the series, haven't had any BB fics prodding at me, demanding to be written. And so I didn’t have anything planned to post in the immediate future but that my subconscious could always come up with some weird idea, demanding attention.

Yeah, so my subconscious came up with a weird idea, demanding attention.

This is set shortly before “Crucible” and “Negotiations.”

It’s this weird combination of almost schmoop, only sort of not, with angry sex, only sort of not, all wrapped up in the hostile, psychotic package of Mirror Universe-land. I’ll stop trying to describe it now.

Lover’s Quarrel

He’s not even sure what sets them off. Kirk makes some smirking remark, designed to needle, and Leonard snarls something back, and it’s nothing they haven’t said a thousand times before. Hell, it’s their normal conversation mode. But suddenly they’re in each other’s faces, words getting ugly, hitting at each other’s weak points except Kirk doesn’t have weak points, except apparently tonight he does, because his face is flushed and his blue eyes are practically nuclear and Leonard’s own head feels like it’s ready to explode and he’s waiting for Kirk to cut him off, to hit him or fuck him or both and then Kirk is reaching for his phaser and Leonard has time to think, oh fuck, before Kirk is shoving the weapon into Leonard’s hands and he’s accepting it more out of surprise than anything else.

He looks down at it and back up at Kirk and scowls. “What the fuck is this for?” He holds the phaser up and pointed to the side.

Kirk just stares at him, eyes cold and uncharacteristically stormy. “It’s a phaser, McCoy. You use it to shoot people. Even you should be familiar with the concept.”

Leonard snarls and his hand tightens on the weapon. “Oh, I’m familiar with the concept. I’m familiar from all the times I’ve had to patch up you and your bloodthirsty band of hooligans. Every time one of you idiots doesn’t manage to duck fast enough. Which is just grand, because regenerating charred flesh is one of my very favorite pastimes.”

Kirk’s eyes go colder. “Well then, you should know that if you want to shoot someone you point it at them.” He reaches out to yank Leonard’s hand towards his chest so that the phaser is pointing directly at Kirk’s heart.

“What. The. Fuck,” Leonard growls, trying to yank his hand away, glancing down to make sure his fingers are nowhere near the trigger. “Have you lost your damn mind?”

“Hey, you’re the one who says your life’s a nightmare you can never escape from. That I’m an evil bastard. So go ahead. It’s the only way you’ll ever be free of me.” Kirk leans in until his gold uniform is touching the end of the weapon. “You’re right, you know. You can’t escape. And I am an evil bastard. So if your life sucks so much, go ahead and pull the trigger.”

“And then spend the rest of my very short life being tortured to death for treason?” Leonard scoffs. “Fuck you.”

Calling Kirk’s bluff gets a reaction, but not the one Leonard’s expecting. He watches in growing unhappy bewilderment as Kirk lets go of his grip and stalks to the nearest comm unit.

“Mr. Spock!”

“Yes, captain?” The first officer’s voice sounds completely unruffled at hearing his captain’s temper filled voice at the ass end of gamma shift.

“If Doctor McCoy kills me in the next ten minutes, you are ordered not to take any disciplinary action against him, do you understand?”

There is a very long pause. “Affirmative, captain. Do you require assistance of some kind? With…Doctor McCoy?”

"Negative,” Kirk responds curtly before disconnecting and turning to face Leonard again.

He spreads his arms, making himself a bigger target. “Well?”

Leonard stares at him, the seething burst of temper fading into his normal aggravation at being forced to deal with James Tiberius Kirk a.k.a. ‘The Most Contrary and Aggravating Individual the Universe Has Ever Been Dumb Enough to Produce.’ Finally, he snorts. “You’re an asshole.”

“What?” Kirk’s eyes narrow. “You shoot me, you’re free and clear. You can stay here and be your usual martyr-like, miserable self. Or you can transfer to some other ship and be a miserable bastard there. Hell, you can even bend over for an admiral and try to buy your way out of the fleet; go home to heal the unwashed masses in Bumfuck, Georgia.”

“There aren’t any unwashed masses in Bumfuck, Georgia,” Leonard responds flatly, keying the phaser off and then dropping it on the coffee table. “And you know I’m not gonna shoot you. I have this thing about trying to preserve life.”

“Unlike me?”

“Unlike you.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

“Fuck off.”

“I have you to do that for me.”

Leonard drops onto the couch in disgust and refuses to look at the other man.

When Kirk drops next to him, Leonard continues to ignore him although he figures he’s not going to get away with that for long. Kirk is pretty much un-ignorable.

Sure enough, after about two seconds, Kirk’s hand reaches out and palms Leonard’s dick. And okay, shit, maybe he is still in a temper, because he reaches out and bats Kirk’s hand away with a growl even though he knows that’s not going to work.

And his dick was kind of enjoying the attention.

“Well, someone’s in a pissy mood.”

“Why, because I don’t feel like bending over for a randy asshole?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. Off.”

“I think I already addressed that suggestion.”

Leonard snorts. The next thing he knows, he’s being tackled off the couch.

“Mother fu…,” and then they’re wrestling, Leonard trying every trick he’s ever learned as they grapple furiously across the floor. Of course he ends up on his stomach, head yanked back in a ruthless lock.

“Fuck, McCoy, how many years has it been and you still suck at hand to hand.” Suddenly Leonard’s flipped on his back and Kirk is staring down at him cheerfully, earlier temper apparently forgotten in the fun of getting to manhandle him.

“I’m a doctor, not a goddamn soldier,” Leonard grumbles. And he has gotten better at hand to hand. Kirk’s demanded it. It’s just that Kirk will always be better, the fucking flexible, acrobatically inclined asshole.

Kirk smirks and then moves, sliding down Leonard’s body, dragging Leonard’s pants down with him in one smooth motion. Leonard lies there and scowls and then yelps in surprise when Kirk’s mouth engulfs Leonard’s dick in one long swallow. Nerves explode with sensation as the hot, wet pressure of Kirk’s genius mouth starts suctioning.

“Fuck!” he moans, arching up, only to be held down by Kirk’s hard grip on his hips, pinning him to the floor.

Kirk says something, made unintelligible by the fact that his mouth is full of Leonard’s dick and the vibrations from the other man’s voice just reverberate into Leonard and up his spine, making him sweat and swear and futilely try to buck into that obscene mouth that's doing obscene things. Kirk’s forearm comes across Leonard’s belly to keep him pinned in place as his hand moves down to toy with Leonard’s sack, running too clever hands over and under, tracing the creases in his skin with light teasing touches. Leonard finds his own hands have moved to slide into Kirk’s hair, encouraging, begging, demanding, petting, as he writhes under the ruthless attention. When Kirk starts sucking like a Hoover while deep throating, Leonard yells and he comes and it hits him so hard that his vision whites out and Kirk’s still on him, milking him through it all until it’s so much, too much, pleasure balancing on the true edge of pain. When Kirk finally pulls off, lips red and puffy and wet, nostrils flaring, and gleaming eyes blown wide and staring at Leonard like he’s the only thing there is, it may possibly be the sexiest thing he’s ever seen in his entire fucked up life.

Leonard’s eyes travel down as Kirk undoes his own pants, his dick set loose to jut up, red and glistening at the tip with pre-cum. Leonard knows that dick better than his own but somehow he can’t manage to draw his gaze away, fascinated, as Kirk starts fisting himself, hard and ruthless, his eyes never leaving Leonard’s. He looks like some fucking golden sex god, tempting a thousand virgins into corruption, into willingly sacrificing themselves, bodies and souls.

The mind blowing orgasm that he just went through has probably rendered him incapable of getting it up for the next twenty years, but something in Leonard still sings and tightens in arousal at the sight, at Ji…Kirk’s eyes locked onto his, at the slaps of flesh on flesh and the tightening of Kirk’s face as he shudders and grunts and comes, shooting his load across Leonard’s chest, splattering him with the hot, sticky mess.

With a last heaving grunt Kirk slides off and lands with none of his usual grace on the floor, lying shoulder to shoulder next to Leonard.

Leonard's relearning basic motor skills and wondering how many brain cells he’s got left when he hears the snicker.

Turning his head he looks at Kirk’s face. At his ruthless killer of a captain’s face that suddenly looks about twelve. A really perverted twelve.

“What?”

Kirk looks at him, bright blue eyes sated and momentarily mellow. “I have no fucking clue why I was so pissed off.”

Leonard blinks and then looks up at the ceiling and blinks some more.

He starts chuckling. Hell if he knows.

END

Brightness Burns Fic Rec

2009-11-11T08:48:16Z

Wow! I have a rec!

green_postit wrote a Brightness Burns fic about Jo and it is all kinds of dark awesomeness!

It basically follows Jo from her first meeting with Kirk all the way into the future, beyond where Brightness Burns is currently at.

It's amazing and deadly and brutal. It's like a sharper alternate universe version of Brightness Burns. It's just painful to read and Joanna is so beautifully deadly and I loved it even as I was whimpering.

I say a sharper alternate universe version because as you might have notice if you've been following Brightness Burns, I've been inching ever so slowly to a happy-ish/happy-er place. Sort of. Mirror Verse style.

So if you'd like to read an au, darker take on Brightness Burns, run HERE

WIP Excerpt Meme

2009-11-07T07:59:17Z

I'm usually intimidated by these memes, but this one looks fun! If only to post excerpts from fics that may never see the light of day :)

Okay, and after going through all my word docs, holy crap, I had no idea I had this many wips. I don't even remember starting some of these *whacks self*

Also, uhm, ~~cheating~~ bending the rules a little. Some of them are more than one paragraph.

Post a paragraph from every WIP you can find. No explanations allowed, just the excerpt.

"What are you doing!? Get down from there immediately!"

The shriek was demanding, irritated and worried all rolled into one and John Sheppard looked down from his steady perch on the ladder with a cheerful smile for the panicked expression on his lover's face. "Hey, Rodney, did you get your errands done?"

"Are you deaf?!" Rodney continued, ignoring John's question as he stood at the bottom of the extremely tall—easy to fall to your final, horrible death from—ladder, looking up with increasing panic as he watched John casually reach out and hang a sprig of some green, branchy thing near the ceiling of the great hall. "Get down from there before you fall and die!"

****************************************

"All right look, miss," he says, holding his hands out calmingly and using his best 'I am an authoritative doctor so goddamn listen to what I say’ voice. "My name's not Caesar, it's McCoy, Doctor Leonard McCoy. Now either Kirk put you up to this, in which case…do you really want to piss off the man in charge of your medical care? Or you've had some sort of physical or mental trauma, in which case I can help you, as long as you put the sword down."

**************************************************

“Something’s wrong with Dad,” Dean uttered it flatly, stating it as fact.

Sam shot him a considering look, not quite skeptical--more like not wanting it to be true. “Dude, you don’t know that for sure.”

Dean just shot him a disbelieving stare before sticking out a thumb. “Dad calls us here, to a nice safe meadow where nothing’s wrong.” He added his index finger. “There’s no hunt in the wings, he just wants to see us.” Dean loved his father—would lay down his life for him—but that was just not how John Winchester rolled. Finally he added his middle finger, “And he’s voluntarily gone off with Spike.” And that wasn’t worrying him. Not one little bit. Nope. He craned his neck and spotted the distant speck of his father.

*************************************************

Fred studied the bottle of cologne cradled in his hand, considering. It was a dark green crystal flask labeled Dangerous Dragon Musk and the back of the bottle promised to, 'Bring out the Dragon in any man and leave the ladies swooning.' Lee had sworn by it when he'd shoved it into Fred's hands that afternoon. He put the bottle back down. Then again Lee had just been dumped by Katie Bell. Besides, if he wore cologne on his first date with Hermione, George would mock him mercilessly. Well, George was going to mock him mercilessly no matter what, but wearing cologne would be like handing George the wand and painting a big X on his own forehead saying, curse me here.

****************************************************

After the—mind blowing, fucking hot, gotta do that again as soon as possible—sex, Bones had disappeared into the bathroom and come out with a couple of damp cloths, proceeding to wipe Jim’s sweat slicked skin down, cleaning him off and cooling him down with a practical, thorough attention to detail that sent arousal swimming lazily through Jim’s system even though his dick was too spent to react. After the wipe down, Bones had checked the restraints, making sure Jim’s circulation was good and his muscles weren’t pulled too tight, before settling down on the bed next to him, a big heavy arm draped possessively across Jim’s abdomen.

************************************************

“So, I’m surprised Jimmy didn’t show up with you and dad at the train station.” It’s a change of subject but it’s true. Jimmy vids him all the time and he’s usually right on hand when Leonard can get away from school to visit home. His roommates over the years have teased him about his younger brother’s devotion. Leonard’s stopped correcting them about the relationship because, hell, Jimmy is his younger brother in every way that counts.

****************************************

Leonard blinks down at the figure bleeding in front of his door. “What the hell?”

Jim Kirk looks up from where he’s slumped on the floor and smirks. “Hey, Leonard H. McCoy, so it turns out I could maybe use something after all.”

Leonard ignores the questions swirling through his mind—perfectly fucking reasonable questions like ‘how the fuck did you know where I live’ and ‘who the fuck tried to end you’—as he kneels at the kid’s side and zeroes in on what looks like the worst injury. “Goddamnit kid, you’ve been stabbed.” He stares, incredulous. “Why the fuck didn’t you go to the hospital?”

*****************************************************

There’s a considering silence and then… “You’ve been a space pirate for three weeks already. Why the freak out now?”

Leonard blinks and actually considers the question. It’s true. He’s been a goddamn space pirate for three surreal weeks now, after being irrevocably led off the path of even the bare bones of respectability by the grinning, cheerful temptation of one James Tiberius Kirk.

***************************************

Leonard glares but stays silent until, with a last playful grope, Kirk orders, “Lights off,” snuggling down against Leonard, the hard, heavy weight of his arm resting possessively across Leonard’s stomach. Kirk flips into sleep as abruptly as he flips into clear eyed wakefulness and so the bastard’s out in under a minute while Leonard lies in the dark, eyes burning with fatigue and anger. He doesn’t get much rest like this. For one thing, sleeping with your hands yanked above your head isn’t easy to do. Not to mention it’s hard to get comfortable when your ass is bruised to hell, you’ve got bite marks and finger shaped bruises up and down your body, and your knees are scraped and aching from being forced to kneel on them for hours.

***************************************************

The next time he notices, they’re in a bar together and the waitress has a total thing for Bones, which is freaking hilarious and he gives Bones shit about it every time she comes up to flirt. She keeps making comments about how large Bones’ hands are and that big rangy body of his, and how she bets he's forceful in bed. When she makes a flirty comment about spanking, Jim’s ready to bust a gut laughing as he smirks across at Bones, expecting to see the other man flushing bright red with embarrassment. Instead Bones is just looking at the waitress and there’s this dark glint in his eyes for the briefest of seconds before he shakes his head, smiles ruefully and then elbows Jim and says they have early class tomorrow.

*************************************************

Leonard feels the tension coiling in the pit of his belly ratchet up another notch as he very carefully doesn't look at Kirk while assessing the man’s mood, which is ugly. Six months of being Kirk’s favorite fuck toy and psychological subject of torment has made him a goddamn expert on the moods of Captain goddamn James Tiberius Kirk. His default is grinning, bright eyed charm as he pokes and prods and gives Leonard a hard time, almost daring him into defiance. Leonard’s learned to deal with playful Kirk. Then there’s his ‘Captain’ persona, which comes out when there’s a crises or when Leonard crosses a line. There’s nothing playful about Captain James T. Kirk. While, with playful Kirk, you might come away bloody and bruised, you’ll at least come away. If it’s the captain of the Enterprise you’re dealing with, defiance will be crushed with absolute finality and in the end you’ll beg for death and sell your soul to earn it.

There are different variations on the moods of course. Kirk isn’t just black or white or even shades of grey. He’s every fucking color up to and including ones outside the human spectrum. Kirk is a ridiculously complicated man and Leonard thinks he’ll never understand him entirely. But one thing he does know. Kirk’s mood right now is dangerous in a whole ‘nother way.

********************************

“Where the hell did you learn to do that?” Leonard gasped out and Jim looked up, mischief gleaming in those unholy blue eyes of his.

“The owner of the tavern where I misspent most of my youth.”

"And where the hell did you learn that?” Jesus, fuck, His new spouse was going to kill him, but at least he was going to die happy.

“That would be the tavern owner’s eldest daughter.”

Star Trek Fic "Restful"

2009-11-01T00:31:07Z

Title: Restful
Summary: Sometimes Bones likes to watch Jim sleep.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Cursing
Genre: Schmoop
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Words: 610
Spoilers: Not really, no.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome!

Happy Halloween everyone! Uhm, in honor of Halloween I should really be writing something dark and scary. But I've been writing so much dark fic lately that I went in entirely the opposite direction.

So...have some Schmoop!

Restful

Leonard likes to watch Jim sleep. It’s a habit developed back when they’d first become roommates, even before they’d become, in Jim’s words complete with audible capitalizations and quotes every single damn time, “Epic Best Buds.” Way the hell before they’d found themselves in something that, at odd moments during the day Leonard will admit maybe, possibly approaches something resembling a committed relationship.

Except not. Because those two words strung together still have the power to strike fear into his gun shy and deliberately cynical heart.

So, he and Jim have sex. With each other. And maybe they spend most of their off duty time together. And, yeah, okay, maybe they go on their shore leaves together. That doesn’t necessarily mean they’re in a ‘committed relationship’.

But, anyway, he likes to watch Jim sleep.

Because, when he’s awake, Jim Kirk never stops moving. He’s this cyclone of energy masked by a charming grin that fools you into thinking pretty much whatever he wants you to think, even as bold blue eyes are taking in every damn thing, transmitting to a brain which processes at warp factor nine, making connections and coming to conclusions when everyone else is just trying to figure out what the damn question is.

So, yeah, Jim’s got a lot of energy.

And being given the Enterprise hasn’t so much settled that energy as given Jim a focus for it. Like all that raw restlessness and burning intelligence is now being channeled through the lens of ship and crew, transmuting into something pure and brilliant that can save planets and shape history to come. It’s amazing and—though Leonard’s never planning to admit it aloud—even awe inspiring to watch.

But, anyhow. It can be exhausting being best friends with a force of nature.

Which is partly why Leonard likes to watch Jim sleep. It’s one of the few occasions, other than the sure as hell not restful times when Jim’s laid up in Sickbay that the younger man actually stops.

Like now.

Jim is sprawled out across the bed sleeping as hard as he does everything else in life while Leonard sits next to him, propped up by pillows, pretending to read the latest medical journals. If Leonard’s eyes keep straying to the silent, still form by his side until finally the padd lays forgotten in his lap; if he thinks to himself that there’s something adorable about how Jim sleeps on his stomach and snuffles and unconsciously reaches out for contact against Leonard’s body, well that’s his own goddamn business after all. And if Leonard’s hand itches to reach out and run fingers through Kirk’s sleep mussed hair, well, so the fuck what? He can tousle Jim Kirk’s hair if he goddamn wants to.

And so he does, reaching out to pet the dark blond, regulation short hair, the strands ridiculously soft to the touch. And then he feels more than sees the minute shifts of Jim’s body and he looks into sleepy blue eyes, still brilliant in color but somehow softer than usual as they blink up at him.

“You petting me?” Jim asks, voice scratchy and bemused.

“No,” Leonard replies in what is clearly a bold faced lie, since his fingers are still carding through Jim’s hair. He watches as Jim just smiles at him, sweet and sunny as a lazy summer Georgia day.

And, if something turns over in Leonard’s gun shy and deliberately cynical heart at that look, at the pure happy affection in Jim's eyes and the curve of his lips, well fuck it, it’s his own goddamn heart and he can do what he wants with it.

END

Star Trek Mirror Universe Fic - Weak Point (Star Trek XI)

2009-10-23T06:41:31Z

Title: Weak Point
Summary: Having James T. Kirk as your mentor is not an easy thing. Set when Joanna McCoy is fourteen.
Rating: R
Warnings: READ PLEASE - Psychological torture of a minor, actual torture of adults, language, violence
Genre: Mirror Universe
Pairing: Mirror Kirk/Mirror McCoy, gen Mirror Joanna
Words: 2,908
Spoilers: Not really, no.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Link to master fic index for 'Brightness Burns' series HERE

Weak Point

“I’m going to do something that you’re not going to like.”

Muscles tense up and anxiety pitches a fit in Leonard’s stomach because Kirk doesn’t give warnings. Not unless he’s playing mind games. But Kirk isn’t wearing his ‘I’m fucking with you’ smirk. He’s wearing his ‘I will do what needs to be done’ look. People tend to bleed when Kirk’s wearing that look.

So what in hell is Kirk planning that’s so bad he considers a warning necessary?

Whatever it is, Leonard knows he can’t stop it, just…“Whatever you’re going to do, it’ll wait until we get back to the Enterprise.” His voice is firm, the plea showing only in his eyes. They’ve been on earth for five days on leave. They drop Joanna back at school tomorrow before heading back to their ship. Surely Kirk will wait.

It’s taken Leonard a long, wary two years to really believe that Kirk isn’t going to hurt Joanna, or use her against him. To accept that somehow in the months he’d been gone, a strange connection had been forged between the ruthless killer and his little girl—fourteen now and so amazing that sometimes Leonard thinks his heart will burst with awe over her existence. He’s gone from horrified to wary to warily bemused as he’s watched the connection between the two only grow stronger.

Thinking of Kirk’s interest in Jo always calls up a snarled tangle of warring emotions; anger and resentment and gratitude and a host of others because how can he know what to feel about the fact that Jo is Kirk’s now as much as she’s his. What emotion is supposed to win when he sees the growing hardness in his daughter’s eyes as Jo’s molded by the ‘fleet prep school and by Jim’s ruthless mentoring. It shrivels up pieces of his soul but he also knows—he’s always known, even before Kirk’s relentlessly laid out logic—that this is the best way, the only way, to keep Jo safe. She’s learning from Kirk how to protect herself from the predators that populate the ‘fleet.

She’s learning how not to be her father.

Leonard looks at Kirk now and repeats his request in the face of Kirk’s continued silence. “Whatever I did, just…wait until we’re back on the ship,” he says, even as he tries to think of what he could have done wrong. This leave they’ve spent in San Francisco has been the most relaxing in years, with Kirk sticking to his version of best behavior.

So it genuinely surprises him when Kirk shakes his head, eyes serious.

“No. I need to teach Joanna something. I need you both here.”

Fuck. “You…what are you going to do?” he asks warily.

Instead of answering, Kirk points at one of the chairs in the dining alcove of the high priced apartment he keeps in San Francisco. “Sit down.”

“No.” Leonard’s denial is instinctive. “No, not until you tell me what in the hell you’re planning to do.” He stands stiff, a snarl of defiance ready to emerge as he waits for Kirk to force him. He knows he’ll lose. He knows it’s going to hurt. He’ll fight him anyway, because this is about Joanna.

But Kirk just looks at him as if he can read Leonard’s mind and says, “I promise I’m not going to hurt Jo.” He nods towards the dining room. “Now sit in the chair, McCoy.”

Leonard holds Kirk’s promise tight because Kirk doesn’t lie to him so Kirk’s not going to hurt Joanna. It’s still a mystery to Leonard exactly what Kirk really feels about Jo, but the man’s invested time and energy and money into her. He’s not going to hurt her.

And that’s the only thing that really matters.

He sits in the chair.

He’s not at all surprised when Kirk restrains him. He doesn’t fight it when his hands are expertly tied to the back of the chair. He does pull away instinctively when Kirk ties his legs, a far too late and useless rebellion. When he’s bound and trussed like a goddamn turkey ready for roasting he looks up and meets Kirk’s impassive gaze. The other man stares at him, blue eyes giving nothing away as he raises a hand and cards it through Leonard’s hair, almost petting him.

“Goddammit Kirk, just tell me what the fuck you’re going to do.” He’s getting more and more freaked out by the fact that Kirk is being almost…gentle with him. He’s not going to hurt Joanna, he promised. He’s not going to hurt Joanna, he promised. He’s not going to hurt… He sees the gag and tries to jerk his head away, protesting, “No, wait!” but the gag goes firmly in. It’s this last action that has panic spearing through him, cutting him open. Oh, fuckfuckfuck, what if Kirk’s been playing with him. What if he’s been playing some long fucking game of revenge for Leonard leaving, he’s been building up Leonard’s trust, he’s going to, Joanna’s going to, Joanna’s going to be alone with Kirk and he can’t, he can’tcan’tcan’t…

“McCoy!” Firm hands grip his face and ruthlessly turn him so that his panicking eyes meet Kirk’s calm ones. “I said I’m not going to hurt her. Are you listening to me? I’m not going to hurt her.” There’s a faint thread of annoyance in Kirk’s voice and for some reason it’s this more than anything that reassures him and has the panic receding.

‘Then what are you going to do?’ he thinks, the question in his eyes. But Kirk just pets him again and turns away.

“I’m going to get Jo. Try not to freak out too much while I’m gone.”

Leonard has no problem disobeying that order as he tugs uselessly at his bonds. Whatever else Kirk has planned—and dread and panic are still spiking through him—he doesn’t want Jo to see him like this, tied up and helpless. He doesn’t know how much Jo really understands about his relationship with her ‘Uncle’ Jim. He’s sure as hell never talked about it and she’s never asked questions, but her brain is razor sharp and the way she looks at them sometimes...hell, her poker face has always been good, and that was before Kirk got a hold of her.

When he hears them coming back, he’s still exactly where Kirk left him, restrained and gagged and helpless to do anything but stare as Joanna and Kirk come into view. He knows the exact moment Jo sees him, the falter in her stride, the widening of her eyes, the quick, wary glance up at Kirk before her expression smoothes over. She starts to go to him only to be held back by Kirk’s hand on her thin shoulders.

“Hold on, Jo.” Kirk’s voice is firm and no nonsense.

Jo looks up at him, and Leonard can see the tension in her coltish body even from across the room. “Why is my dad tied up?” She manages to keep her voice even.

Dread hits Leonard at Kirk’s answer. “Because he’s your weak point.”

He watches as his daughter shoots another quick glance at him—too fast for him to see what’s going on behind those eyes so similar to his own—before looking back up at Kirk silently, warily.

Kirk leans in. “He’s your weak point because you love him. He can be used against you.”

“No, I…” Leonard watches as Kirk hushes Joanna’s instinctive protest and steers her to another chair which he drags around to face Leonard a few feet away.

“You can’t help loving him but you can help your reactions. If people know he’s your weakness they’ll use it against you. Threaten him or hurt him to hurt you, to make you do something you don’t want to do.” Kirk’s voice is calm and authoritative and it’s the same voice he used last night when he was giving Jo tips on how to write her fucking research report.

Jo’s hazel eyes, usually so controlled and contained, shimmer with mutiny and fear as she looks up at Kirk. “You love him. You love him too.”

Kirk shakes his head. “Your father belongs to me. That’s what people know. That’s what they see. That he’s under my protection.”

“Then…then why…”

Kirk cuts her off with another shake of his head. “But they also know he can’t be used against me. That I’d kill him myself before I’d let that happen.” He ignores Joanna’s instinctive shake of her head in denial. “And they know that I’d destroy them for messing with my possession. They know they’d beg for death for a very long time before I gave it to them.” He leans forward, a boyishly handsome, charismatic killer with baby blue eyes. “And because people know this it protects your father.”

Leonard watches as Jo nods, gaze still wary but accepting now too and another piece of his soul shrivels at the look in his daughter’s too old eyes.

She nods. “I understand.”

Kirk smiles in approval. “Good. Now you need to show that he can’t be used against you.”

When Kirk moves behind him, Leonard meets Joanna’s gaze and tries to look calm and reassuring. He doesn’t flinch away from the warm, solid presence behind him. It’s the horror in Joanna’s widening eyes that’s his only warning before his body spasms and burns, pain eating away at him in endless, paralyzing waves, drawing strangled, choked cries from behind his gag as his neck snaps back and he writhes as much as the bonds will let him. The fire sears up and down his body, consuming him down to his bones and replacing his awareness of the world with pain that can’t be escaped. He’s barely even aware of Jo screaming until the pain stops as suddenly as it had started; the absence the best thing he’s ever felt in his long and fucked up life. As he claws his way back to rational thought he instinctively tracks for Jo, fuck where is she where…

He blinks blearily and sees Kirk dragging Jo back to the chair she’d leapt from and he cries out a muffled protest even as he sees Kirk’s not hurting her, not even when Jo tries to disable him with a vicious attack which Kirk easily blocks. He watches helplessly as Kirk cuffs Jo to the chair, the other man waiting patiently for Jo to calm down.

“That’s exactly the reaction you can’t show, Jo.” Kirk is looking down at her, voice instructional.

And then he walks back towards Leonard, Agonizer still in hand.

Leonard sucks in air around the gag, chest heaving, craning his neck to watch with wild eyes as Kirk circles to stand behind him. He pulls against his bonds as he waits for his world to turn to fire again.

He can’t help the flinch at Kirk’s next words.

“We’ve got all day, Jo.”

Leonard doesn’t know how long the ‘lesson’ has been going on. The sunlight streaming in through the large treated bay windows is still bright. It feels like this has been happening for a hundred years but, fuck, it could be less than an hour. He’s barely aware of reality at this point, head drooping in exhaustion and he cringes when he feels something brush against him, expecting the pain to start up again and consume his world. It takes him a moment to register that he’s not in agony, that pain is still absent, and that there’s a hand rubbing comfortingly against his shoulder and neck and there are words, “We’re done, McCoy. We’re done.”

He finds the strength to lift his head and sees Joanna watching him, sitting in her chair, back straight and eyes dry and what flits through his mind is that she doesn’t look like him right now, not anymore. With her impassive face and cold, cold eyes, she looks like Kirk.

He watches, sweat soaked and shivering, as Kirk walks over and undoes the cuff that’s been holding Jo in place. When he sees Kirk lift the portable Agonizer, Leonard tries to scream, jerking against his bonds. And then he realizes Kirk’s giving it to her, wrapping her slender fingers around it and he cries out a muffled protest at that too.

Kirk stares down at her. “Do it.”

And Leonard watches as that blank, disturbing impassivity on his daughter’s face crumbles under the weight of pure, vindictive rage, as she puts the device against Kirk and activates it without hesitation. Kirk’s body jerks under the onslaught and, after a few endless seconds, the terrible rage drains from Jo’s face and she starts to pull away only to have Kirk grip her wrist and forcibly keep it on him.

Fuck, how is Kirk even capable of motor function with the debilitating fire of the Agonizer racing through every nerve? Leonard hadn’t been able to do anything but be overwhelmed, enduring the pain only because he had no choice, the restraints the only thing keeping him upright. But the only reaction Kirk is showing is a slight tremor and Leonard wonders, not for the first time, how does someone become that used to—that immune to—that much pain?

When Kirk finally lets go of Jo’s wrist and pulls back, it’s Jo who’s trembling as she looks up at him, eyes enormous in her pale, pale face.

Kirk leans in until he’s inches from her. “It’s only pain, Jo,” he says softly. “When you realize that, when you can control it while others can’t, it becomes just another tool.”

Leonard watches his daughter, his Jo, look down at the Agonizer like she’s never seen one before. When Kirk turns her gently by the shoulders and tells her to go wait in her room she goes.

She doesn’t look back. And she takes the Agonizer with her.

Once Jo leaves, Kirk comes back to him and undoes the restraints, looking down at him, head cocked to the side while Leonard tries to figure out if his trembling body can stand.

“You want to take a shot at me? I’ll give you one for free.”

The offer’s just so…inadequate and so Kirk that a bitter laugh escapes him. Kirk shrugs and drags him up, supporting Leonard as he wobbles and starts to fall. He tries to jerk away because he’d rather fall flat on his goddamn face right now than accept Kirk’s help, but the bastard ignores his weak attempts to resist and steers him to the living room, dumping him on the couch and then collapsing next to him in a sprawl.

“You can go talk to Jo in a few, but rest up first.”

“Why didn’t you warn me?” It’s the first thing he’s said since Kirk removed the gag and his voice comes out rusty and hoarse from screaming.

Kirk shrugs. “What good would that have done? Hey, McCoy, I’m planning to torture you next week in front of Jo to teach her a valuable life lesson. You wouldn’t have been able to talk me out of it. You would have just freaked out and probably tried to do something stupid.”

There’s…really nothing he can say to that, in the face of Kirk’s perfectly fucking logical statements that make perfect fucking logical sense if you take away compassion or any softer human emotion and what the fuck good do those emotions do anybody anyway. So Leonard just heaves his protesting body up, rage and resentment and remembered pain churning in his stomach. He stands unsteadily for a moment until he’s mostly sure he’s not going to fall over and then he starts walking with slow, stiff steps to find Jo.

He looks back once when he reaches the hallway and Kirk’s still sitting there, studying him, giving nothing away.

"Sometimes I hate you,” he rasps out. He doesn’t have the energy to scowl.

"No, you don’t.” It's an order. Leonard turns away and keeps walking.

When Kirk fucks him that night, it’s not easy and it’s not gentle. It’s terse orders and ruthless hands that hold him down while Kirk slams into him. Kirk fucks Leonard like he’s giving him a reminder of who he belongs to, leaving bite marks in tender places, branding him. Kirk pulls the orgasm out of him, demands it, with hands and tongue and teeth that know him inside and out and refuse to be denied, winning in the end because the bastard always wins in the end.

It’s two days later in Kirk’s quarters that the fury--pushed down and forcibly ignored for days--boils up all at once, searing through Leonard as fast and unexpected as the pain from the Agonizer had and he lashes out, slamming his fist into Kirk’s face so quickly it actually catches Kirk off guard, his nose crunching satisfyingly under Leonard’s fist. Kirk staggers back and then just stands there, blood streaming from a broken nose as he looks down at Leonard’s hands which are still tightened into fists, clenched and shaking. He smiles as he looks back up to meet Leonard’s eyes, looking fierce and dangerous and amused at the same time.

“I said I’d give you one for free. Next one’s gonna cost you.”

Leonard swings anyway. He loses the fight, badly, but he gets in—Kirk lets him get in—a few good blows.

Sometimes it’s worth the cost.

END

Star Trek Mirror Universe Fic - A Little Light Conversation (Star Trek XI)

2009-10-18T18:35:59Z

Title: A Little Light Conversation
Summary: Three conversations, Mirror Universe style, between Joanna and Kirk, Sulu and Chekov and Sulu and McCoy.
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, violence, torture, general MU ruthlessness, references to sex. etc.
Genre: I'm gonna go with 'Mirror Universe' as its own genre at this point
Pairing: Mirror Sulu/Mirror Joanna (sort of), Mirror Kirk/Mirror McCoy, Chekov
Words: 2,065
Spoilers: Not really, no.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Link to master fic index for 'Brightness Burns' series HERE

A Little Light Conversation

Joanna and Kirk

“I’m planning to fuck Sulu.”

It doesn’t distract Uncle Jim nearly as much as she’s hoping and he still presses forward with the attack she had sensed more than seen building up. Uncle Jim doesn’t give warnings but she’s sparred with him enough over the years that she knows his style. Of course, his style is defined by being unpredictable, ruthless and tactically brilliant so he still kicks her ass about ninety-eight percent of the time. But it takes him longer these days and she’ll take her goddamn victories where she can.

She blocks, counterstrikes and dances back and they eye each other warily as they circle.

“Business or pleasure?” He’s still circling, his knife tip red from a slash that’s a line of fire on Joanna’s belly, a lesson in moving faster.

“Both.” She dances in and feels a flash of triumph when her seeking knife finds the soft give of flesh. The triumph disappears when his fist comes out of nowhere and knocks her back, sending her staggering under the force of the blow and the bright burst of pain that follows—shit, should have expected that. She automatically puts up a block but knows it’s not going to be enough even before Uncle Jim just bulldozes through it.

Joanna finds herself on the ground, straddled by her grinning mentor, his knife at her throat.

“Loser.”

“Fuck you,” she growls, careful not to move her neck.

Uncle Jim just smirks down at her. “But baby, what would your father say.” He laughs and then rises in one smooth motion, hauling her up with a powerful hand on her wrist.

She rolls her eyes and watches as he examines his wound, the blood dripping in slow rivulets down his bare forearm.

“Not bad.”

The offhand praise sends prickles of pleasure through Joanna’s system even as she raises a haughty eyebrow in response. “One of these days, I’m going to kick your ass.”

“It’s cute you’re such an optimist.” Mocking blue eyes turn serious and he reaches out to rap her forehead with his knuckles. “I’ve got plans for you and Sulu. So don’t break each other.”

Joanna smirks, amused, the action bringing a fresh burst of pain from the bruise already forming on her face. “I’ll try not to do any permanent damage.”

Chekov and Sulu

"You are planning to fuck Joanna, yes?” Pavel turns from the strung up Atrastan prisoner they’ve been interrogating. The seven foot barbarian started singing like a canary over an hour ago. Now they’re just amusing themselves.

Hikaru’s eyes slide sideways as he assesses Chekov’s mood. Pavel doesn’t seem like he’s about to turn those bloody knives he’s holding Hikaru’s way but, then again, Pavel can be…unpredictable. It’s part of his charm.

“Thinking about it.” He keeps his tone casual. Truth is he’s been thinking about it a lot. And not just because of her looks. Yeah, Joanna McCoy’s fuckable with her cool eyes, warm skin, and long lean lines of a thoroughbred. But it’s more than that. Joanna’s her own unique mix of cool; a ‘don’t fuck with me’, no nonsense, baby badass in training. It’s…fascinating. He wants to fuck her, test her, play with her. He hasn’t decided yet if he wants to break her—even aside from the suicidal inadvisability of breaking one of Kirk’s possessions without permission.

Kirk and McCoy he figured he’d have to deal with. But Pavel. Hmm, he hadn’t actually considered that Pavel might be a problem. He should have, with the kid’s weird thing for McCoy. The young Russian’s had a soft spot for the doc ever since first transferring aboard. Hikaru used to think maybe Pavel saw McCoy as some sort of surrogate father; he’ll sit quietly through one of McCoy’s acid tongued lectures when he'd be reaching for his knives if anyone else—except maybe Kirk—dared. That theory had lasted until one violently memorable shore leave on earth when Hikaru had actually met Pavel’s father. Turns out, Andrei Gregorovitch Chekov is a savage bear of a Cassock who literally wears the bones of his defeated enemies and is pathologically fond of his axe. The brutal man sure as hell bears no resemblance to the acid tongued, life is precious, ‘healer through and through’ McCoy.

No, apparently Pavel just has a weird thing for McCoy.

“You have something to say?” It’s a neutral way to ask ‘are we going to have a fucking problem?’

Chekov smiles sunnily. “Da. I have thought on this. I think Joanna and you will make a nice couple.” He turns and slides both knives with slow precision into the prisoner who just moans, too far gone to do anything but hang limply from his restraints.

“But…?”

He watches Pavel frown in displeasure at the prisoner’s lack of reaction and then twist the knives methodically, nodding when the action draws a gurgled scream. Satisfied, the young Russian turns to stare at Hikaru earnestly.

“But you should talk to her papa first. Doktor McCoy is wery fond of Joanna. He worries.”

“You want me to talk to the doc,” Sulu repeats incredulously.

“Da.”

“About fucking his daughter.”

“Da.”

Hikaru opens his mouth to object, sees the determined set to Pavel’s expression and rolls his eyes. “Fine. I’ll talk to the doc. You’re fucking weird sometimes, Pavel. You know that, right?”

Pavel shrugs and pulls his knife out, gesturing at the now unconscious man. “I am done. Do you want to finish him?”

Hikaru grins and watches as Pavel flips a knife into the air. It’s an old game. Hikaru’s sword is out and flashing in a clean slice of lethally sharp sword through flesh, muscle and vertebrae, and the head topples before the dagger lands back in Pavel’s palm. Pavel smiles in appreciation and leans to grab the unevenly rolling head by its top knot, tossing it to the Security crewman standing by.

“Bring the next prisoner in, please,” Pavel orders the crewman who nods respectfully and exits as Pavel begins meticulously cleaning his blades in preparation for their next unlucky ‘guest’. While Security might resent their occasional butting in on interrogations, they’re too in awe of Pavel’s talent with knives and too scared of the both of them to do anything as stupid as object.

“I think this will be a good thing, to reassure the doctor of your intentions,” Pavel concludes, nodding at Hikaru, pleased.

Hikaru just shrugs. Somehow reassured is not how he thinks the doc is going to feel.

Sulu and McCoy

“Hey, doc.”

Leonard looks up from his charts and his already irritable temper takes a nose dive when he sees Sulu standing, relaxed, in the entrance to his office.

In the normal course of business Leonard doesn’t have anything against the man. Sulu’s smart, competent and not any more vicious than anyone else on this godforsaken ship. And the fact that the helmsman keeps them from crashing into planets or being sucked into black holes is a big goddamn plus in his favor.

There’s also the fact that the man’s fucking lethal so a little cautious respect doesn’t hurt.

That’s in the normal course of things. Normal doesn’t really apply when the bastard’s sniffing around Joanna.

“Yeah?” He knows his tone is surly and unwelcoming and he can’t bring himself to care. He’s been stewing over the whole goddamn situation ever since he’d seen them at lunch two days ago. The sexual interest—and it makes his left eye twitch just thinking those words in relation to his baby girl—had been evident to a father’s suspicious eyes. So he’d gritted his teeth and initiated a painfully awkward discussion with Jo last night, trying to impress on her how dangerous Sulu was.

Jo had just looked at him, beautiful and confident and so fucking young. “Daddy, it doesn’t make sense for me to be with someone weak,” she’d pointed out, her eyes steady and her voice reasonable.

When he’d argued grimly that there was ‘weak’ and then there was ‘I’ve decapitated more aliens than I can remember’ and that there was a huge goddamn range between the two, Jo’s eyes had softened—which only reminded Leonard how hard her eyes usually were these days.

“I’ll be careful, Daddy. I promise. Look, whatever happens, it’s short-term. I’m only on the ship for three weeks.”

Leonard had felt the rebuttal boiling up behind his tight throat. That she had no idea how much pain and humiliation could be inflicted in five minutes, let alone three weeks, and that he’d give anything for her to never know what it felt like to have your choices taken away; to be forced to your knees at the beck and call of someone who didn't understand the concept of mercy.

But in the end he’d held his tongue, forcing a stiff smile and nodding.

Because, the hell of it is that his baby girl does know. Joanna’s a citizen of the empire and she knows exactly how dangerous the ‘fleet is, how precarious life in the service is. And she’s more than capable of handling herself.

Just not against someone like Sulu.

The man in question is walking towards him now, looking amused, like he knows exactly what’s behind Leonard’s glare.

"You look upset, doc. Problem?”

“Stay away from Jo.” The blunt demand forces its way out and, dammit, he knows better than to give Sulu a direct order. It’s practically daring the pilot to do the opposite.

Sure enough, Sulu smiles as he rounds the messy desk, leaning against it, next to Leonard’s chair. Leonard stiffens as the man’s dark eyes travel up and down, studying him in lazy appreciation.

“Really, doc?” Sulu’s voice drops into that husky purr of his. “And if I do, are you going to offer me something better to take her place?”

Leonard blinks, taken off guard. “Are you fucking crazy?” he blurts it out, more shocked than anything. “Kirk would kill us both.”

Sulu just shrugs and gestures at the room. “I don’t see him here. Who says he ever has to know?”

Leonard stares at Sulu, trying to figure out what the hell kind of game the other man’s playing but can’t read anything in those inscrutable features. He’s got to be bluffing, Leonard thinks uneasily.

When Sulu leans in, reaching out to trace a finger gently down Leonard’s jaw, he barely resists the simultaneous urges to flinch back and sock the helmsman in the face.

“So, how ‘bout it, doc?" Sulu smiles like a wolf grinning at its prey. "You willing to bend over and take one for the team to protect your baby girl?”

Enough is goddamn enough. Leonard surges to his feet, knocking Sulu’s hand away. “I keep you alive you son-of-a-bitch,” he snarls. “I’ve stitched you back together more times than I can count. You hurt my daughter and next time you need help, I might just be a little too goddamn slow to save you.”

He can only scowl in baffled frustration when, instead of getting angry at the threat, Sulu’s smile just widens into a pleased grin. Jesus H. Christ, he will never understand the command crew of the Enterprise, not ever. They are the most goddamn baffling, fucking annoying bastards that have ever lived, every goddamn one of them.

Because Sulu’s chuckling now. “Very nice, doc. I’ve always wondered what it would take to get you past your ‘I’m a healer’ thing.”

He watches as Sulu leans back again and suddenly the taunting danger that’s been targeting like a laser onto him is gone, replaced by Sulu’s usual lazy air of ‘I could kill you, but right now it would require more effort than you’re worth.’

“Look, I’m not going to hurt your little girl. But I’m not going to stay away from her either. Especially not if she comes to me.” The ‘And she will,’ remains unspoken.

Leonard knows that’s the best he’s going to get. Knows it’s probably Kirk and not his own threat that’s getting Sulu to give him that much. So he scowls and nods curtly and watches as Sulu tosses him a casual salute, gets up and strolls out of the room like the cocky son-of-a-bitch he is.

Leonard resists the urge to pick up his padd and throw it at the man.

Knowing his luck the bastard’ll end up his son-in-law.

END

Pine Beaming Up Jack Ryan Role?

2009-10-15T05:28:06Z

Interesting! Don't know if people have seen this...

I think he'll make an interesting Jack Ryan. And, wow, has Star Trek been good for his career :)

Pine Beaming Up Jack Ryan Role?

By: Mike Fleming
Published: Tue, October 13, 2009, 5:10 PM

Paramount Pictures has begun negotiations with Chris Pine to play CIA analyst Jack Ryan in the reboot of the franchise based on the Tom Clancy novels.

UPDATE: Paramount confirmed this story late Tuesday, and in a statement, Paramount Film Group president Adam Goodman said: "Tom Clancy created an unforgettable character with Jack Ryan. With Chris in this role, we've taken our first step in creating a re-boot that lives up to the successful lineage of the franchise."

Pine is positioned to topline his second Par franchise. He played James T. Kirk in “Star Trek,” the JJ Abrams-directed summer hit, and will reprise in the sequel.

Pine is separately in talks to team with director D.J. Caruso in the Paramount drama “The Art of Making Money,” early next year.

Talks are just getting underway, but Pine is expected to come aboard the Jack Ryan film as the project takes shape. The studio and producers Lorenzo di Bonaventura and Mace Neufeld are working with a script draft by Hossein Amini, based on an original concept. They are still in deep development and it is unclear whether Pine would make another “Star Trek” before the Jack Ryan film. He will clearly be working often for Paramount over the next several years.

Pine, currently starring with Denzel Washington in the Tony Scott-directed “Unstoppable” for Fox, is vying to be the fourth actor to play Ryan, the CIA analyst in the Par film series.

Alec Baldwin originated the character in 1990’s “The Hunt for Red October,” Harrison Ford played him in 1992’s “Patriot Games” and 1994’s “Clear and Present Danger,” and Ben Affleck played Ryan in 2002’s “The Sum of All Fears.”

Pine’s repped by SDB Partners and Carrabino Management.

ORIGINAL VARIETY LINK

Star Trek Mirror Universe Fic - Well, Hello There (Star Trek XI)

2009-10-12T04:02:21Z

Title: Well, Hello There
Summary: Mirror!Joanna Interns aboard the ISS Enterprise and runs into Mirror!Sulu.
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, threats of violence, shades of non-con, etc. etc.
Genre: I don't even know anymore *baffled*
Pairing: Mirror Sulu/Mirror Joanna (sort of), MKirk/MMcCoy, MChekov shows up
Words: 1,620
Spoilers: Not really, no.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Link to master fic index for 'Brightness Burns' series HERE

Well, Hello There

“Well, hello there.”

At the husky voice, Joanna looks up from where she’s working on a routine system diagnostic and sees a lieutenant commander in command yellow staring at her, unmistakable interest in his dark eyes. She automatically calls up his memorized dossier even as she straightens, careful to keep her face smooth and emotionless. She can feel the sudden tension coming off of Pell, her assigned partner for this shift, but she doesn’t look over at him. The break in eye contact could be seen as a weakness.

“Commander Sulu.”

He tilts his head, considering. “You know me?”

“Yes, sir. Lieutenant Commander Hikaru Sulu, first helmsman and weapons officer of the Enterprise.” He’s handsome; interesting, angular features melding into a rakish sort of charm, made more piratical by the scar slicing up one cheek.

“Very good, Cadet,” he looks amused now, and even more interested. Which…is a problem.

“You’re dismissed.” He tosses the order at Pell, who looks nervous and unsure as he stands, fidgeting beside them. The idiot actually opens his mouth to protest, probably to argue that the cadets currently serving a three week internship aboard the Enterprise are assigned to work in pairs at all times—mainly for their safety. That argument might even work on a lower level crewmember, but it’ll just serve to piss off someone as high up as Sulu.

Joanna shoots Pell a sharp look that cuts him off before he can get himself sliced up for insubordination. “Go. I’ll meet up with you at our next assignment station.”

He hesitates for a moment longer, he’s a decent guy and he has a crush on her, before he gives in to self preservation and walks away, shoulders hunched unhappily.

With Pell safely on his way, Joanna returns her full attention—most of it never having left—to Commander Sulu.

“You saved the puppy from a lesson,” he observes, smirking.

Joanna gives a small shrug. “Did I, sir?” It never pays to appear to care.

He nods. “A very painful lesson.”

He moves a step closer, into her personal space, a challenge, a declaration of intent. “And now we’re alone. We can get to know each other better.” He reaches out a hand to softly run a finger down her cheek. She controls the shiver her body wants to indulge in. She’s self aware enough to recognize it’s partly from nerves and partly from returned interest. Commander Sulu, with his rakish charisma, is very attractive. He’s also very dangerous. Of course, considering her mentor for the past five years has been James Tiberius Kirk, she’s also self aware enough to know that the danger’s part of the attraction.

Sulu’s hand is curving on her neck, tracing down her shoulder, the heat of his palm penetrating her thin cadet’s uniform. She weighs her options. She can let him docilely drag her into some side room and let him fuck her until he’s satisfied; it’s the safest option and she might even enjoy it. She can tell him who she is and see how much weight that carries; it’s the chicken shit option and she prefers to keep it in reserve. She can bet on her skills with weapons and fight him; it’s the dangerous option since, based on the tales she’s grown up hearing, Sulu’s the definition of a badass. And of course there’s also the complicating factor that he’s her superior officer, which means he can have her thrown in the Agony Booth for insubordination, even if she does manage to hold him off. Uncle Jim might intervene. Then again he might not. He’s a big believer in handling things yourself.

She arches an eyebrow and subtly puts her left hand within reach of a knife, while her right makes a gesture to draw his eyes. “I’m on duty, sir.”

“Well then let me…mentor you,” he purrs as he starts to back her up against the wall, lips closing in for a kiss. She meets his mouth with her own, in part to distract him, in part because she wants to know what his mouth feels like. Heat curls through her. Good. His mouth feels very, very good.

His hands are moving for her breasts when she places the knife against his throat. She could have put it against his dick, since nothing makes a man freeze more quickly than a threat to his happy tool. But a threat to a man’s dick tends to get taken personally, while a threat to the throat is much less likely to result in a long-term grudge. Uncle Jim had given her that advice over lunch one day. He’d then segued into the best way to choose sex partners, until her dad had exploded in one of his “Goddammit, Kirk,” rants, red faced and furious, until Uncle Jim had pulled her father into the other room for a suspiciously long ’discussion’.   There’ve been a lot of lunches that have ended like that over the years.

Sulu freezes as soon as he feels her blade. It’s well positioned. One slice and his life’s blood will be painting the floor of corridor 18-IVA. He studies her, dark eyes calm and unfazed. “Interesting,” he murmurs, and, dammit, she thinks in annoyance as his husky purr shoots straight through her, that voice of his is seriously an unfair weapon.

“What now, Cadet?” He sounds genuinely curious.

“Now I finish my computer system diagnostic. Sir.”

His smile widens, amused, the knife at his throat not making him seem any less dangerous. “What’s your name, sweetheart? I’m gonna remember you.”

She hesitates briefly, annoyed for some reason at the forthcoming loss of her anonymity. But he’s asked a direct question and she has no reason not to answer.

“Joanna McCoy, sir.”

He blinks, face going blank. “You’re Joanna McCoy.” It’s not a question.

“Yes, sir.” Her knife doesn’t waver.

And then he’s stepping back, ignoring the threat of the knife. She tenses, because if he’s going to move against her, it’s going to be now…

But he just starts laughing softly, the sound snaking through her, sneaky.

“Well, fuck. You look like him too.” He reaches out and runs his thumb down her cheek again, caressing. “I’ve always thought the doc was pretty. And he’s nice and soft under that grouchy surface. Way too soft for his own good.”

Joanna feels her veins go icy at the mention of her father. At the considering tone in Sulu’s voice. But, no, her father belongs to Uncle Jim. No one touches what belongs to Uncle Jim.

Sulu’s studying her, memorizing her. “You though…you’re not as soft as your father, are you, sweetheart?”

“No, sir.” She meets his eyes. She knows she looks nothing but calm. Her poker face is a damn good one.

He’s still studying her, hand still caressing her face, and her mind is almost made up, accepting the risks, preparing to attack, when he steps back again, shaking his head.   “Put away your claw, kitten. You don’t need it…for now.”

“Good to know, sir.” She watches him for a steady moment and then tucks her knife away. She waits, ready to move. It’s going to be a bitch of a fight if he attacks her now while she doesn’t have a weapon in hand.

But he’s smiling, the threat that doesn’t seem to ever leave him muted for the moment. “C’mon, Joanna McCoy, I’ll take you to lunch and you can tell me all about yourself.”

“I’m still on duty, sir.”

He reaches out and offers an old fashioned elbow, the courtly gesture at odds with the order clear in his eyes. “I’m taking you off duty. Cadet.”

Joanna resists the urge to roll her eyes and takes his arm. “Yes, sir.”

“Call me Hikaru when we’re not on duty. I’ll introduce you to Pavel and we can all have lunch. He’s a big fan of your father’s, y’know.”

“I look forward to meeting him, sir.”

Lieutenant Chekov is handsome and enthusiastic and polite, and sets off every alarm in Joanna’s suspicious body. He really is a fan of her father, though, talking about him enthusiastically and with admiration. He also very politely tells her that if anyone on the ship gives her trouble, she is to tell Pavel and he will make it wery clear that she is to be left alone.

She thanks him politely.

When her father and Uncle Jim enter the mess a short while later, they join the table and Joanna can see her father’s silent freak out at his daughter being in the company of—what she’s very aware are—seriously dangerous men.

Joanna knows her father worries about her, especially now as she gets closer to taking her place in the ‘Fleet. The knowledge of his constant, cherishing love is what sustains her; something she keeps safe, buried in her soul. But she also knows that, of everyone at the table including herself, it’s her father who’s most in need of protection. Because he cares too much, he always cares too much, and the whole world can see it and make him pay.

But her father has Uncle Jim to keep him safe.

And, someday, he’ll have Joanna. Because she will use every lesson, every piece of advice Uncle Jim has ever given, until the day she’s powerful enough in her own right. Powerful enough to never have to worry about orphanages or work houses, admirals with greedy hands, or vicious high born classmates who look down on her birth even as they envy her connections. Someday she’ll be powerful enough to protect her father.

Someday she’ll be in a position to keep him safe.

END

A/N - So....this was totally not the Joanna fic I set out to write. The more I write this series, the more the characters seem to be doing their own thing. Sulu wasn't even supposed to be in the Joanna fic I was writing and then "Well, hello, there." popped into my head and, heh, you see the results. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Especially because it's not the only Joanna fic I'm writing :) There's at least one more set around the same time period and one set in her early teen years with Kirk and McCoy, both about half done.

Also, if you've been reading this series, chances are you already know about this awesome LJ community issenterprise devoted to Mirror Universe fics that was created about a month ago by the awesome spikeface. But if not, and MirrorUniverse fics are your thing, this is the place to go :) Uhm, it is MirrorUniverse so do note it has all kinds of dark/violent/non-con type fics, but some of them are just amazing.

Space Pirate Jim Meets the In-Laws

2009-10-05T05:25:16Z

Title: Space Pirate Jim Meets the In-Laws
Summary: Sequel to 'Space Pirate Jim' which was written for space_married. AU Prompt (09) - On the day of his wedding to Jocelyn, McCoy is kidnapped by Space Pirate Kirk, who marries him instead to get his hands on the McCoy millions/billions that Bones only gains access to after his marriage.
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, sex talk
Genre: Oh, this is still crack. Total crack.
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Words: 2,822
Spoilers: Uh, no.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Many, many thanks to blcwriter for her very helpful suggestions and comments (and being so understanding when I sent version after version)! Any remaining errors are all mine.

First fic 'Space Pirate Jim' can be found HERE.

Space Pirate Jim Meets the In-laws

Something had to be done about all the damn pillaging.

Not that Leonard really minded since his former kidnapper and new husband, ‘Space Pirate Jim', had turned out to be a frigging genius at the whole pillaging process. Fuck, did the kid know how to use his tongue.

No, the problem was that the kid was so goddamn smug about the whole thing.

Naturally, Leonard couldn’t let that stand and so he retaliated by pillaging the hell out of Jim right back. And, while that was sure as hell a worthwhile past time, it had the unfortunate end result of making the kid even smugger. Jim had taken to swaggering around his pirate ship like he was a sultan with a harem of thousands. It was embarrassing.

Not to mention the fact that Jim kept calling Leonard ‘wife’ in a cheerfully possessive voice—in front of the other pirates.

He had to be stopped.

“Dammit Jim, I will knock you out with a hypo and shave you bald if you don’t stop calling me ‘wife’,” Leonard threatened grimly as they sat in the cramped living area of the captain’s quarters, where Jim was supposedly showing him sketches for his planned improvements to the ship.

“Ah, c’mon, you need a nickname. You can’t have a pirate named Leonard.” Jim was looking at him with earnest sincerity which Leonard figured was about fifty percent bullshit and fifty percent actual sincerity.

He rolled his eyes. “First of all, I am not a goddamn pirate. I am a doctor who happens to be married to a pirate. God help me. And second of all, ‘wife’ is not a nickname.”

“Cupcake?”

Leonard looked at the kid in disbelief. “Do you want to die young?”

"Sweetheart?”

“Tell you what. You can call me ‘Sweetheart’ whenever my dick is buried in your ass.”

“Really? Sweetheart, Sweetheart, Sweet…”

Leonard gave up and tackled him.

Twenty minutes later they both lay collapsed in a tangled heap on the bed. It was definitely too small for two grown men. Well, a grown man and a Space Pirate.

And it was definitely too small considering all the pillaging going on.

“Bones.”

Leonard looked over at Jim who was giving him a winning smile that immediately made him wary.

“What about them?”

“Bones. It’s an excellent pirate name.” Jim arched his brows meaningfully.

Leonard just stared back, baffled. “Why the hell would you…oh Jesus, just…never mind.” He shook his head and gave up with a muttered. “Fine. It’s sure as fuck better than ‘wife’.”

“Okay then. Bones.”

There was something suspicious about the deep satisfaction in Jim’s voice and Leonard scowled as he considered the various ridiculous nicknames Jim had been wearing him down with since their marriage five days ago. “How long have you been planning the whole ‘Bones’ nickname?”

“Uhm, since just now?”

Leonard frowned suspiciously and Jim looked back at him with a suddenly vacant stare out of pretty, pretty blue eyes.

Leonard narrowed his own in disgust. “Y’know, that look really hasn’t worked since you showed me your intelligence testing results.”

The vacant look disappeared to be replaced by cheerful good humor. “Heh. Okay, come on, you have to admit that…”

Jim was interrupted before he could come up with whatever argument he’d been about to launch into—which was sure to be convoluted and which Leonard would be disagreeing with on sheer principle—by Jim’s communicator which started blurting out a happy chorus of ‘Yo Ho Ho and A Bottle of Rum.’ Firmly resisting the urge to chuckle, Leonard rolled his eyes instead, because the kid did not need encouragement in his whole ‘getting Leonard to embrace the pirate lifestyle’ quest.

Jim reached out to lazily snag the communicator. “Kirk here.”

Sulu’s husky voice came across. “Kirk, we’re nearing the rendezvous point with the Denarans. You want to maybe pull yourself away from your lovely wife for a few moments?”

Jim shot Leonard a smirk and opened his mouth to no doubt make an asinine comment—for which he would have to suffer—but apparently Leonard’s threatening glare triggered the kid’s atrophied survival instincts and he just said, “Be right there.”

Leonard watched as Jim jumped out of the bed with overflowing energy, throwing on his discarded clothes and jogging towards the door. “Be back in a few, Bones!”

Leonard sighed and thumped his head back onto the pillow, letting a wry smile of amusement escape now that there was no one there to witness it. He could already tell being married to the kid was gonna be exhausting. Fun though.

The sudden, much more standard, chirp of his own communicator going off had Leonard reaching out to the nightstand to grab it. “What?”

“Uh, Bones, you might want to get up here.” There was an unusual hint of seriousness in Jim’s voice that had Leonard sitting up and frowning at the communicator.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he stood, frantically looking around for where his damn shirt had gone to.

“Just…get up here. Uh, fast, please.”

With a curse as the communicator went dead, Leonard gave up looking for his clothes and just yanked new ones out of the small supply Jim had scrounged from somewhere. Striding out of their small quarters, he broke into a half run as he headed to the turbolift. It exited directly onto the ship’s bridge and the thick tension hit him as soon as he stepped over the threshold.

"What the hell is so…oh, fuck.” He stopped dead as he took in the viewscreen and the visual it was transmitting. “Mother.”

The magnified head of Eleanora Hortensia McCoy glared down at him from the main viewscreen, her disturbingly enlarged image showing steely green eyes set in an aristocratic face, framed by perfectly coiffed, mink hair the exact shade of Leonard’s—though her shade was ‘encouraged’. She was outfitted in a ridiculously pink frilly suit and, naturally, was wearing pearls. “Leonard,” she said in her usual drawl, the one that dripped honey and venom at the same time, “I see you are alive and that five days in the company of these…” her eyes swept the assembled crew with a disdainful sweep, “criminals has done nothing to improve your foul language.”

“I…sorry, ma’am.” He caught Jim giving him a disbelieving ‘look’ from his peripheral vision and grimly ignored him. Jim would learn. Oh, he would learn.

“Well,” his mother gave a small ‘hmph’, “I suppose at least it’s good that you’ve managed to keep yourself alive, although,” her eyes narrowed disapprovingly, “…disheveled.”

Leonard resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Uh, mother, there’s something…”

He was cut off as Eleanora’s attention snapped back to Jim who had been studying her with keen, calculating interest that just sharpened as they continued to stare at each; they looked like two combatants squaring off.

Eleonora’s eyes narrowed. “Very well, you’ve proven that my son is still alive. I will not blow your little ship into atoms. You will return Leonard immediately and you will all be arrested. My assistant will communicate the details.” She nodded and Leonard watched as Ms. Uhura appeared on the screen, looking as beautiful, self possessed and eerily competent as ever.

Uhura stared down at their raggedy band with dark, intelligent and unimpressed eyes. “As Mrs. McCoy has indicated you will…” she paused, composure suddenly looking shaken for the first time since Leonard had met her. Her eyes were widening as they focused on something to the side of Jim and Leonard looked over to see what could have caused such a rare event. She was looking at…

“Spock?” Her voice was incredulous.

Spock was looking right back at Uhura with a slightly bemused expression on his face which, from what Leonard knew of Vulcans, was the human equivalent of flabbergasted.

After a long pause the half-Vulcan gave a slight nod. “Greetings, Nyota.”

“Spock, what are you doing with these criminals?” Uhura asked, frowning.

Jim was also looking at the Vulcan with a speculative gleam in his eyes. “Nyota, huh? Something you want to tell us, Spock?”

Spock debated briefly. “No.”

No one on the pirate ship looked surprised when Jim didn’t let it go. “Spock. Seriously, I think we need to know.”

Leonard watched the Vulcan’s shoulders stiffen. “I have a prior professional acquaintance with Ms. Uhura.”

“Realllly?” Jim grinned, managing to stuff the word with innuendo, while Spock ‘not glared’ at him. After days of watching Jim and Spock interact, Leonard had come to realize that the whole ‘Vulcans not showing emotions’ was pretty much bull. Or maybe it was just Jim possessing an almost preternatural ability to annoy Spock.

“Ms. Uhura?” At the imperious voice, Leonard looked up at the screen to see his mother arching an aristocratic eyebrow at her assistant, looking tiny next to the taller woman.

“Spock was my advisor when I studied certain linguistics courses at a University program several years ago.” There was a hint of a flush in Uhura’s cheeks. Jim must have spotted it too because he turned and wriggled his brows meaningfully at Spock, giving him a thumbs up.

Spock responded to the gesture with a small huff of ‘not exasperated’ breath.

Uhura continued speaking, her perfect composure rebuilding with every word. “In any event, my prior…working relationship with Spock has no bearing on current events.” She turned to Jim again, giving him a frosty glare. “Pirates, you will turn off your shielding and prepare to be beamed aboard our vessel.”

“No we won’t,” Jim responded cheerfully, grinning back. “And the tractor beam you’re trying to use on us right now totally won’t work. We’ve got special shield modifications.” He turned back to Spock. “Wow, she’s just like a girl version of you. No wonder the two of you hooked up. Please tell me that the two of you hooked up."

Spock ’not scowled’. “At no time did Ms. Uhura and I…”

“Pirates, I repeat, you will turn off your…”

“Everyone, hey!” Leonard roared, getting the feeling that events would just keep spiraling more and more out of control if he didn’t intervene.

The overlapping sound of voices cut off as all eyes focused on him.

“What?” His mother snapped back, looking mildly irritated at the way events were unfolding.

Leonard took at deep breath. “We’re…married.”

His mother froze and a look of horror crossed her patrician features. “Who is we?”

Leonard hitched a thumb at Jim who immediately stood up straighter and offered a sunny smile. “Hi, new Mom!”

“Oh…Leonard.”

************************************

As the oversized images of his mother and Ms. Uhura disappeared from the viewscreen, Kirk rubbed his hands together and announced, “Well, that could have gone worse.”

Leonard just shook his head in grim resignation and turned to stare at his ‘hopefully not soon to be dead’ husband. “Goddammit, I wish we’d had more time to plan. This isn’t good.”

“Oh, c’mon. Your mom seems nice, in a slightly scary way. And Uhura’s hot.”

“Your mum seems like a perfectly lovely woman,” Scotty offered while Spock ‘not glowered’ at Jim.

“Hell no, she’s not a lovely woman,” Leonard gritted out, answering Scotty’s question but looking intently at Jim. “She’s a damn miniature barracuda decked out in pink. The woman is dangerous and sneaky and under no circumstances should you trust her.”

He almost growled in frustration when Jim still didn’t look worried. “Jim, listen to me.”

“I am listening to you. Dangerous and sneaky. Got it.”

Leonard sighed. “Look, there are two very important things you need to keep in mind here. One, you never signed a pre-nup, which means as things stand you’re looking at eventually inheriting half of McCoy Enterprises when my mother dies. That gives you one hell of a negotiating chip.”

“So we’re golden,” Jim grinned at him.

“No!” Leonard snapped back. “Because the second important thing to remember is that she might decide to just kill you instead.” His family hadn’t stayed the richest private force in the galaxy for over one hundred and fifty years because they were nice.

Jim blinked at him. “So this is basically going to be like negotiating with another pirate.”

“Well…yeah.”

Jim nodded. “Cool.” He then turned to stare up at the viewscreen where Eleanora’s ship floated in front of them. Even Leonard had to admit it was a beautiful sight.

“I’ve never seen anything like your mom’s ship before. What, uh, model is she?” The question was nonchalant but Leonard caught the almost enraptured interest sparking in Jim’s eyes. It wasn’t quite as intense as the predatory look Jim tended to get whenever they were pillaging each other. But it was pretty damn close.

Leonard shrugged indifferently. “That’s the Enterprise. It’s a prototype built by McCoy Shipping. It’s one of a kind and the most advanced ship in the Federation.” He glared at Jim. “Which means she can squash your ship like a bug.”

Jim just kept staring raptly up. “Interesting.”

******************************************

Leonard couldn’t stop staring at the smug face of his new husband, caught somewhere between awe, amusement and disbelief. Because, goddammit, the kid just looked too pretty to be that smart; or that ruthless.

“I can’t believe you got her to give you the goddamn Enterprise.” He could still only shake his head at the events that had just transpired.

The past few hours had almost caused him to stroke out over the tension of watching Jim and his mother ‘negotiate’ in a master game of subtle threats, not so subtle threats, and—most disturbingly of all—flirting. Leonard had spent the time alternating between wanting to jump Jim, because watching his new husband not be bulldozed by Leonard’s barracuda of a mother was absurdly hot, and wanting to punch Jim because, dammit, flirting with your brand new mother-in-law was wrong on so many goddamn levels.

But one thing the past few hours had demonstrated without question. James Tiberius Kirk really was a genius, scarily so.

In return for signing a post nuptial agreement, Kirk had somehow managed to get the Enterprise signed over to his name—the exchange to take place at an agreed upon location—along with a hefty stack of credits that almost matched the fortune Leonard would have access to from his grandfather’s trust.

And most disturbing of all, his impossible to please mother seemed to approve of Jim. As Leonard had walked his mother back to her shuttle, she had stopped in the hall and given him an appraising stare out of too perceptive green eyes.

“You seem to like this boy.”

Leonard had shrugged and then scowled, feeling his cheeks flush. “Well, yeah, I wouldn’t have married him otherwise.” Even if Jim had been threatening to toss Leonard out an airlock.

His mother’s eyes narrowed as she continued to study him until, finally, she nodded. “You know,” she said slowly, “Jocelyn was a nice, appropriate girl. She would have made a nice, appropriate wife. But this James Tiberius Kirk,” she gave a wolfish grin, suddenly looking more like a pirate than half Jim’s crew, “well, he might actually be worthy of the McCoy name.”

Leonard just rolled his eyes as he leaned down to kiss his tiny, barracuda of a mother on the cheek. Because trust Eleanora Hortensia McCoy to decide a pirate made a worthy husband for a McCoy.

Twelve days later

“Wow, that was so…nice of her.”

“You’re pouting.”

“No, I’m not. It’s a good thing. A great thing. Your mom got us all pardoned. We’re not technically pirates anymore. Yay.”

Leonard had to bite back a laugh. The kid was definitely pouting.

“Stop laughing at me.” Okay, make that pouting and sullen. It was actually damn cute. Not that Leonard was ever saying that aloud.

He shook his head, still chuckling. “Jesus, kid. You’ve got the most advanced ship in the galaxy, you’re not an outlaw anymore, and you’re rich. But, hell, if you need a new challenge, you can always go kidnap someone else and become a space pirate again.”

Leonard saw the look on Jim’s face and stopped chuckling. “Dammit, Jim…that was a joke. I was joking.”

His sense of dread could only grow as he watched the wicked grin light up Jim’s face. It was definitely a space pirate sort of grin.

“Y’know, we really do need more crew for the Enterprise. And hiring’s no fun." Jim stared at Leonard, a terrifying combination of calculation and mischief in his bright blue eyes. "Who’s that whiz kid you said helped design her? Chekov? I wonder if he’d enjoy a little space adventure. Ooh, and I bet I could totally talk Spock into kidnapping his old girlfriend.”

Leonard felt the muscles beneath his left eye start to spasm.

END

A/N - So, thank you for indulging my crack :D And also, I just wanted to say, for anyone who enjoyed these 'Space Pirate Jim' fics, run immediately to read Swashing, Maybe a Little Buckling by eldritchhorrors

It is actually Kirk/grownup Joanna but it is hilariously, hilariously awesome. Just read it for the awesome snark of Joanna, the awesomely adorable pirate that is Kirk, and the eventual awesome appearance of Bones. And just...loved this!!!

Oh, and if anyone has read to the bottom of this (thank you!) but is secretly wondering 'dude, would you just write another Brightness Burns fic already?' there's one in beta and one more in process :)

Star Trek XI Fic - Gretna Green (Part II of II)

2009-09-20T21:06:19Z

Title: Gretna Green
Summary: Written for space_married. AU Prompt (08) - An impoverished but titled James T. Kirk is betrothed to Nero - who's evil (of course), but who has enough money to restore the Kirk name. Kirk runs away to Gretna Green. And since he has to find someone else to marry before he gets there he asks Leonard "Bones" McCoy (who can either be his friend or a stranger) to save him by marrying him. Bones may be acting as a doctor, but he is secretly nobility and actually has the power and influence to protect Kirk and his family.
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, references to past abuse, evil villains offering current sexual threats, abuse of the Regency period in general, and Regency romance cliches in particular
Genre: Uhm, part of the overpopulated 'alternate universe Regency, angsty fic with bits of snark thrown in' genre
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Words: 4,054 (for part II)
Spoilers: Uh, no.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Many, many thanks to savoytruffle and blcwriter for their extremely helpful suggestions and comments! Any remaining errors are mine, all mine.

The second half of this fic has been brought to you by...sugar. No, seriously. Two chocolate donuts, two powdered sugar donuts, a slice of chocolate macadamia cream pie, and a pack of sour Starburst candies went into the making of this fic.

PART I - HERE

Gretna Green (Part II)

Setting out less than an hour later, they alternated between cantering for speed and letting the horses walk to recover, overall making good time as they followed the roads north towards the border that separated England from Scotland.

Jim proved an amusing companion during the slower periods when conversation became possible. He rambled on cheerfully, and with a surprising amount of knowledge, about a variety of topics ranging from the ridiculous to the sublime.

For the most part Leonard kept quiet, responding to direct questions and injecting the occasional sardonic observation, but remaining preoccupied as he pondered the enigma of their new traveling companion. Jim was well born, that was certain, given his speech and bearing. And he was in trouble. That much was also certain. But on the surface the younger man certainly didn’t act as though he were burdened by any troubles. He had an easy smile and a quick laugh and seemed to thrive in their company. And yet he would have walked away from them earlier, even as clearly in need of assistance as he was. In fact Jim had appeared more baffled than wary at Leonard’s offer of friendship, as if he didn’t quite understand the proper way to respond.

And he was beautiful.

Even under the cloudy English sky, the younger man practically shone, with his burnished hair, sun kissed skin and the charismatic grace of a natural horseman. Leonard could see why someone would be willing to part with a fortune for the right to bed such beauty every night. To wake up to those laughing blue eyes and a smile that could brighten even a gloomy English day.

Leonard silently scoffed at himself for the notion. Whoever this golden boy was destined to end up with, it certainly wasn’t a world weary doctor with a small talent for healing and a greater talent for sarcasm. Determined to put his unacceptable attraction for Jim away, Leonard concentrated on the tale Scotty was in the middle of exaggerating.

“…and then the general said ‘By God, if my dog is not returned within the hour I will cashier the entire bloody regiment!’ And I said…”

The crack of a rifle discharging reached Leonard's ears a second before he saw Scotty jerk in his saddle. He watched in horror as the Scotsman faltered and dropped to the ground, even as he was pulling his pistol out and scanning the area for the source of the shot.

Fuck, they were sitting ducks here, this section of the road wide and open and deserted but for them. Scanning their surroundings, Leonard spotted a copse of trees that was likely the cover the rifleman had used.

He hastily dismounted to put his horse between himself and the sniper and saw Jim doing the same.

“It came from over there,” Jim pointed, grim faced, in the same direction Leonard had noted. The younger man held the pistol Leonard had lent him earlier that morning, and he kept watch with it, as Leonard hastily knelt besides Scotty, searching for where the ball had hit.

“Captain?” Scotty asked, eyes dazed. “Did the French get me?”

“It wasn’t the French, Scotty.” Leonard found the injury on Scotty’s arm and felt the tension in his gut loosen a little as he saw it was merely a flesh wound. “It was a cowardly attempt at an ambush, but you’re too tough a bastard to die from one little bullet. Can you stand? We need to get under cover.” Leonard looked up to tell Jim to be ready and felt his blood freeze.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, watching as the younger man jumped back into his saddle, making himself a perfect target.

Apologetic, grimly determined blue eyes met his. “I’m sorry, Sawbones. I should never have gone with you. It’s me they’re after. I’ll lead them off and you can get Scotty the help he needs.”

“Jim, don’t.” Leonard’s tone was almost pleading as he saw the determined, stubborn look of the other man. “We’ll get out of this together. You don’t have to…”

Jim responded with a sharp shake of his head. “It was a very great pleasure to meet you Leonard McCoy. I…I wish…there had been more time.” And then the younger man took off with a yell, riding in a thunderous gallop to the north. An explosion of activity immediately came from the distant trees and then not two, but four riders burst from cover, in furious pursuit of Jim.

“Dammit, Jim. Who the fuck is after you?” Leonard rasped, as he watched the riders quickly disappear into the distance. He was gripped with the almost overwhelming urge to jump on his horse and chase after the bastards, rage filling him at the thought of Jim facing his pursuers alone.

“Go after him, Captain.” Leonard looked down at his manservant and friend, looking back at him steadily with pain filled but rational eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

Leonard shook his head. “Your wound needs tending to, you stubborn Scott. I can’t have you dying on me.” Rising to his feet, Leonard quickly fetched supplies to clean the wound and staunch the bleeding.

“We’ll get him back, Captain,” Scotty gasped out, tensing in pain, as Leonard began tending to the injury.

Leonard nodded, face grim. “You’re goddamn right, we will.”

Jim rode north, feeling his pursuers in his bones, even before he risked a quick glance back and saw them and Jesus fucking Christ , when had his step-father’s gang of bullies doubled? Gritting his teeth, Jim urged his mount to greater speed as he tried to come up with a workable plan. If he could make it to the next town, if he could…“Fuck!” He watched in disbelief as two more riders came towards him from the north, his pursuers now numbering six in a trap that was quickly closing. All of these men couldn’t possibly be employed by his strapped-for-funds step-father which, Jim realized with an icy bolt of dread, left only one man they could work for…Nero.

Eyes narrowing in determination, Jim spurred his horse and changed direction to aim between his pursuers. His mount was fast and full of heart, responding to his urging with an increase in speed. Another favor Jim owed to Leonard McCoy who was now miles away and, if there was any last bit of kindness in the universe, safe from Jim’s troubles.

He smiled fiercely as his horse shot through the rapidly closing trap and he saw clear road ahead of him. If they were planning to stop him, they were goddamn well going to have to shoot him.

They didn’t shoot him.

They shot his horse.

A sharp crack was the only warning before his mount stumbled and went down in an explosive and deadly tumble, Jim kicking free of the saddle from pure athletic instinct. He was airborne for a brief exhilarating moment before his body met the ground, air exploding out of his lungs at the brutal impact. He lay half conscious, wasting precious seconds, before he was able to force his injured body to stagger upright to witness the trap closing around him. Blinking at the blurry figures of men surrounding him, Jim’s vision abruptly snapped back into focus on the unwelcome sight of a powerfully built man who swung down from his horse and walked arrogantly forward to greet him.

“James, my dear, you have put me to a great deal of trouble.” Baron Nero smiled thinly, the action doing nothing to disguise the anger simmering in his intense, dark eyes. The man stopped in front of Jim’s stiffly held body, reaching out with snake like quickness to cup Jim’s bruised face, his large hand tightening as Jim instinctively tried to jerk away.

“And you’ve damaged yourself before our wedding. That simply will not do.” Nero leaned in closer, gaze burning. “The only bruises you should be wearing are those I put on you.” His fingers pressed painfully into Jim’s cuts and Jim wrenched violently away.

“I am not marrying you, you sick bastard,” Jim hissed, feeling bile rise in his throat at the thought.

The Baron’s powerful hand shot out again and closed around Jim’s throat before he could react, the man’s fingers squeezing brutally. Already weakened by the fall, Jim tried desperately to find some leverage against the other man, punching and kicking with as much force as he could muster. But the baron was large, strong and uninjured, and Jim felt the world fade away to blackness to the sound of the Baron’s amused response, “I do look forward to proving you wrong.”

*************************************

Jim woke with a start, confusion quickly replaced by fear and anger as he realized his hands were bound behind him and he was gagged. Pushing the fear down, Jim focused on feeding his anger as he took in his surroundings. He was in a closed carriage, the vehicle jouncing on its springs as it carried him to points unknown. He was regrettably not alone.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Nero smiled at him, a flash of sharp teeth, eyes roaming possessively over Jim. “You look so very pretty bound up for me, James. Perhaps I’ll keep you like this, hmm? Until I can properly train you, that is. And that mouth…” Jim watched in revulsion as Nero’s eyes darkened in appreciation. “It’s framed so beautifully by the gag. Yes, I think you will be wearing a gag frequently, when your mouth is not being put to other uses.”

Jim just glared, swallowing his sick feeling of dread at the baron’s words. He had heard hushed stories about the baron’s proclivities, about the injuries his servants sported, about the fate of the man’s first wife. Jim would slit his own fucking throat before he became the baron’s plaything. He stiffened as Nero leaned forward to settle a large hand on Jim’s thigh. He managed not to flinch as the hand moved up to casually cup Jim’s sex through his trousers. “You will look very pretty tied to my bed, young James.” The baron’s voice held anticipation as his hand began to work Jim who bit down on his gag in revulsion.

“It’s tempting to take a taste now,” the baron continued thoughtfully and his hand tightened, enough to cause a flare of pain shooting through Jim’s groin, before he abruptly let go. “But you will come to understand that I am an old fashioned man. We will wait until we are bound together in the eyes of God.” He gave Jim’s leg one last pat and sat back, continuing to study Jim with possessive satisfaction.

Jim glared back, defiant. He would escape the bastard, even if the only escape available was through death. He turned his head away, pointedly ignoring the other man’s presence, and spared a brief, fervent prayer that Leonard and Scotty had come to no lasting harm. The memories of the Scotsman’s good cheer and the doctor’s gruff kindness were rapidly taking on the aspect of a pleasant dream, an unreal interlude in his current nightmarish existence.

They continued traveling through the night and into the next day, emerging from the carriage only for relief. Jim was never left alone and never unbound, although Nero did have two of the hulks switch Jim’s ropes to shackles. “Mustn’t cut off the blood, James,” he murmured. “We don’t want any damage that won’t heal.”

As they traveled onward, the baron spoke in a casually possessive voice about the 'experiences he had planned for James' and although Jim was hardly an innocent at sexual activities, the practices outlined by the baron's cool, dry voice had panic flickering at the edges of his consciousness.

Jim ate the food Nero offered to keep up his strength and for the chance to have the fucking gag removed, if only for short periods of time. He just needed one moment of inattention, one chance. The comfort he clung to was that they needed his consent for the marriage and, no matter what transpired, that was something he would never give.

Then, on their second day of travel, that last comfort was stripped away. Nero, pausing in the middle of a protracted soliloquy on the virtues of different blades—and if he hadn’t already despised the man, Jim would have refused to marry him on the general objection that he was a long winded bore—parted the window curtain and looked out, smiling in satisfaction. “Ah, we’re in Scotland, James. Excellent. It was rather fortunate that you chose to travel north. There’s a church, mind you, not that ridiculous Gretna Green where children under the age of consent elope to. No, this is a private church that isn’t as…particular, shall we say, about the consent of both parties.” He smiled darkly at Jim. “We should be there in another half a day.”

The snarl that erupted from Jim was one of pure frustrated rage and he lashed out with his feet without conscious thought, the unexpected action catching Nero off guard and managing to connect solidly with the man’s knee. Roaring with pain and outrage, the baron clutched at his injury before lunging at Jim, eyes wild with fury. “How dare you.”

A knife was suddenly at Jim’s throat and he tried to goad the baron on with his eyes, growling past the gag, beyond caring, wanting the bastard to do it. For an instant Jim thought he would get his wish, until the baron paused and, stomach sinking, Jim watched fury turning into something more calculating and far colder.

“Do you think you can provoke me into ending your life, James? Stupid boy, you belong to me. I knew it from the moment I first saw your beauty and strength and all of your brilliant energy just waiting to be bound to service.” The baron slid his knife gently along Jim’s throat, so cleanly that Jim didn’t realize he’d been cut until he felt the sudden bright flare of pain. Sliding back, the baron lifted the knife, examining the edge of red. With a smile that sent an involuntary shiver through Jim, the baron ran his thumb along the edge before bringing it up to his mouth to give it a sinuous lick. “No, James. We will marry. And you will learn to enjoy my attention. This I promise you.”

Jim closed his eyes and tried not to give in to the unfamiliar emotion of despair.

It was an eternity later and still far too soon when Jim felt the carriage come to a rumbling halt. Nero stood in the small space, reaching down to pull Jim up with a hand under bound arms, ruthlessly dragging Jim’s shackled body down from the carriage where they faced a small, tidy chapel surrounded by forest.

Jim glared while the baron examined Jim’s abused state with a frown of displeasure. “It really is a pity you had to run away, James. I had a very nice suit tailored for you to wear to the wedding.” The man shrugged. “Ah well, I can have you wear the suit another time, once you’re properly housebroken for formal occasions.”

Nero nodded curtly to one of the interchangeable hulks who reached down and lifted Jim as if he weighed no more than a feather, dragging him towards the doors of the small chapel, ignoring his desperate struggles and furious muffled snarls.

Jim was too focused on resisting his fate to register the sharp, cracking sound of a firearm being discharged. His first hint that something was afoot came when the bastard dragging him jerked and then stumbled, loosening his hold. Jim took the opportunity to lunge away, stumbling to his knees and then up. And then he heard the shots and stopped, adrenaline crashing through him, as he watched easily a dozen figures emerge from the woods surrounding the isolated chapel. And then he heard a familiar, indescribably welcome voice growl out, “Everyone drop their goddamn weapons, now!”

Nero’s outraged roar barely penetrated, because all Jim could seem to register was Leonard ‘Sawbones’ McCoy striding towards him, pistol in hand, looking wild-eyed, unkempt and absolutely furious. He was undeniably the best sight Jim had ever seen in his life. Jim stood, still stunned at the turn of events, as Leonard reached him and, lifting his hand with a gentleness that belied the fury still burning in his hazel eyes, pulled out Jim’s gag.

“For the love of God, will you kindly cease getting yourself kidnapped?” The gruff, accusatory words were completely at odds with the genuine concern lighting the doctor’s eyes.

"I will do my best,” Jim rasped out, his own eyes wide. “How the hell did you find me?”

“I had riders looking in every direction for your kidnappers. Brutes such as these are rather noticeable, thank God. As soon as you were spotted, you were followed until we could gather enough men for pursuit.”

Jim shook his head at that, looking around at the small private army that seemed to have invaded the clearing. “Who are you?” A simple doctor wouldn’t be able to command so many men on such short notice.

“Yes, who are you? I must know what name to give the authorities when I set them after you for assaulting a nobleman.” Nero’s cold, arrogant voice drew both men’s attention and they turned to face the baron. He was being held at gunpoint by a lean, older gentleman with graying hair and an amused expression gracing his face.

The older man smiled rakishly at the baron’s demand. “He wants to know who you are Len. Shall I tell him?”

“By all means, Chris, do introduce us.” Leonard drawled, anger seeming to pour from him in waves as he stared at Baron Nero.

The man named Chris turned and gave a mocking half bow. “Allow me to introduce myself. Christopher Beaumont Geoffrey Pike, Duke of Evington. And may I give you the honor of being presented to my young friend, Leonard Horatio Vincent McCoy, Earl of Huntfield.”

“Earl?” Jim asked, voice coming embarrassingly close to cracking at this latest turn of events.

He watched Leonard Horatio Vincent ‘Sawbones’ McCoy, Earl of Huntfield, scowl, looking vaguely embarrassed. “Well, as of six months ago, yes. Before that I was just a younger son. The inheritance is why I was forced to return home.” He shrugged indifferently. “Not that my family is particularly thrilled that I’ve inherited the title since they consider me a scapegrace for studying medicine.”

“Earl?” Jim just asked again pointedly, although an effervescent lightness was beginning to bubble up through him.

“Oh, shut up,” Leonard muttered, and Jim gave in to the urge to laugh, as much as in relief as in amusement. Because just a few moments ago Jim had been sure he’d never have reason to laugh again.

Leonard gave him an exasperated glare before his expression darkened into something much more dangerous at seeing the fresh injuries adorning Jim’s face and neck. Turning, he grimly regarded the arrogant figure of the baron.

“Where are the goddamn keys to the shackles?” Leonard strode towards the baron, threat clear in his eyes.

Nero just snarled in response. “The boy is my fiancé, you have no right to interfere. And as we are both gentlemen, I demand satisfaction from you for this offence.”

Jim immediately shook his head in alarm, knowing the baron’s reputation as a noted swordsman. “No, Sawbones, this is not your…” and then he stopped, blinking in fascination as the doctor’s fist lashed out, low and directly into Nero’s groin in a distinctly ungentlemanly shot.

“Truthfully, I’ve never quite gotten the hang of being a gentleman,” Leonard said grimly, watching in satisfaction as the large man dropped to the ground, moaning in agony. Crouching, Leonard reached into the baron’s jacket, pulling out a set of keys as his pistol never wavered from its aim at the man’s head as the baron glared at him with pain and hate filled eyes. “Listen very carefully, you degenerate bastard. The boy is not your fiancé, he is my fiancé . He and I will be married before the day is through. And if you come anywhere near him again there will be no duel, no swords, no pistols at dawn. There will be just your quick and ugly death followed by your burial in an unmarked grave.”

Standing, Leonard nodded at his older companion. “Chris, I trust you can manage things from here?”

“Oh, I can indeed,” the older man promised with a hard gleam in his eyes. He nodded at the baron’s men who had been herded into a group and were under guard. “I’m sure these ‘gentlemen’ are wanted by the law somewhere if we just make the necessary inquiries. And I look forward to having a little talk with the baron about his inability to keep a fiancé without the aid of chains.”

“I do believe I like your friend,” Jim observed in amusement as Leonard returned to his side and quickly undid his shackles.

Observing Jim’s chafed wrists with a frown, Leonard snorted. “Yes, I’m sure you and he will become great friends. You certainly remind me enough of each other. He’s the man Scotty and I were on our way to visit. We became friendly in the peninsula, as he was one of the few noblemen I met who weren’t useless.”

“You mean like yourself,” Jim asked, unable to resist the mild jab, even as his brows furrowed in concern. “Scotty, is he…?”

“He’s fine,” Leonard assured him. “He’ll be very put out that he missed all the excitement.”

“About that, I…I don’t know how to…” Jim didn’t know what to say, how to thank him. Jim wasn’t used to having anyone to thank and certainly had never conceived the notion that the other man would come after him. That he wasn’t alone—it was baffling and...amazing.

Leonard was looking at Jim, hazel eyes serious as if he knew every single thought that was running through Jim’s mind. “You’re welcome,” he said simply. “Now, can you ride?”

“Away from here? Of a certainty,” Jim said firmly.

“All right then. We can head south to Chris’ estate. I…” Leonard paused, clearly uncomfortable, and Jim looked at him curiously.

“What?”

“About before, what I said when I called you my fiancé.” Leonard hesitated. “I truly think it would be best if we married, Jim. I’ve heard of the baron. He’s a powerful man. Chris and I can threaten him but, in the end, with your step-father’s consent he could try again. If…if we were wed you would have my protection. We wouldn’t have to…that is, I would never take advantage of…I apparently own several estates now, you wouldn’t even have to…”

Jim took in the scowling, embarrassed, overwhelmingly attractive and exceedingly good man currently stuttering out a proposal and grinned. “So, you are offering me your name for protection and are promising not to take advantage of me, is that it?”

“Yes,” his Sawbones huffed out, looking relieved at being able to stop the uncomfortable speech.

“I see.” Jim paused, as if considering. “I believe my answer must depend upon your answer to a very important question.”

"And what is that?”

“Am I allowed to take advantage of you?”

Hazel eyes blinked at him in surprise that was slowly replaced by heavy lidded desire, sending a scorching blaze of want sweeping through Jim. Always one to take a tactical advantage, Jim took the opportunity to lean in, pressing his mouth against the other man who, after a brief hesitation, met Jim in a heated, dueling kiss that left them both breathless.

When they finally pulled back to regain their breath, Jim watched in satisfaction as Leonard Horatio Vincent ‘Sawbones’ McCoy, Earl of Huntfield smiled. It was a smile entirely free of the sarcasm that was normally so much a part of the man; a characteristic which Jim was already inordinately fond of.

“You are most certainly allowed to take advantage of me,” Leonard assured him with a raspy drawl that Jim absolutely approved of. “Will you marry me then, Jim?”

Jim beamed. “I believe we’ll pass Gretna Green on our way south.”

“We can be there in two hours.”

They made it in less.

END

Star Trek XI Fic - Gretna Green (Part I of II)

2009-09-19T19:49:39Z

Title: Gretna Green
Summary: Written for space_married. AU Prompt (08) - An impoverished but titled James T. Kirk is betrothed to Nero - who's evil (of course), but who has enough money to restore the Kirk name. Kirk runs away to Gretna Green. And since he has to find someone else to marry before he gets there he asks Leonard "Bones" McCoy (who can either be his friend or a stranger) to save him by marrying him. Bones may be acting as a doctor, but he is secretly nobility and actually has the power and influence to protect Kirk and his family..
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, references to past abuse, evil villains, abuse of the Regency period in general, and Regency romance cliches in particular
Genre: Uhm, part of the overpopulated 'alternate universe Regency, angsty fic with bits of snark thrown in' genre
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Words: 4,949 (for part I)
Spoilers: Uh, no.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Many, many thanks to savoytruffle and blcwriter for their extremely helpful suggestions and comments and for encouraging me on this fic by telling me it did not suck. Sometimes you just need to hear that! Any remaining errors are mine, all mine.

By the way, my betas had to listen to me whine about this fic and so now, you can too!

*cough*, commencing whining:

Geh, this fic was HARD TO WRITE!!!

Okay, whining done! Seriously, it's a good thing (except for my sanity) that I made a commitment on this fic or I totally would have given up. And, in the end, I'm really glad I stuck with it. So, yay, for deadline commitments :D And also. I apparently cannot write short Regency fic. I should have known this since the last time I tried Regency it was for Stargate Atlantis and it ended up being 18 chapters long. Lesson learned.

This is Part I. Part II is just getting final polishing and will be posted on Sunday. Hope you enjoy!

Gretna Green

“No.” Jim met his step-father’s arrogant glare with a mocking one of his own, exercising his well developed talent for provoking the bastard.

He watched with grim satisfaction as the fury kindled in his step-father’s eyes, spreading through the man’s reddening face. Jim counted down silently to the explosion. Three…two…one…

“You will do as I say!”came the roar of outrage, perfectly on schedule. “And if I say you will marry Baron Nero then, by god, you will marry the man and thank me for it!”

“And exactly what past behavior of mine lends to the conclusion that I will do anything you say?” Jim inquired politely, knowing it would infuriate. Frank Edgars hated even the slightest hint of possible disrespect, let alone Jim’s blatant insolence.

In the eight years since Jim’s grieving mother had suffered the appalling lapse of judgment of choosing Edgars as her second husband, the man had never missed an opportunity to take his every insecurity and resentment out on his two newly acquired step-children. Perhaps Edgars resented having to follow in the larger than life boot prints of George Kirk, decorated war hero and adored husband and father. Perhaps he was just a complete bastard. Jim had long since stopped caring.

But if Edgars had ever held the thought that he could break the Kirk boys, he had been quickly disabused of the notion, especially in regards to the youngest. Eight years of beatings and constant belittling had only forged Jim’s naturally stubborn will to the consistency of steel.

His step-father’s face was the color of tomatoes now, the bluffly handsome features twisting into ugliness indicative of the man’s true character. And then Edgars took a deep breath and calmed, the uncharacteristic action setting off every one of Jim’s mental alarms.

“Nero has offered twenty thousand pounds for your worthless hand in marriage. Twenty thousand pounds.” Edgars’ eyes raked over Jim contemptuously. “I can’t imagine why. I suppose he’s enamored of your pretty face, which is the only thing a useless catamite such as yourself could possibly offer. The money will restore our family’s fortune…”

“You mean the money will restore my family’s fortune,” Jim cut in, rage flashing through him at the other man’s words. “The fortune you’ve squandered.”

His family had been prosperous until his step-father had bled them dry of funds, mortgaging every property and selling off irreplaceable heirlooms. And now, with Jim’s brother escaped into the army, his step-father was attempting to sell the only unencumbered asset he had left: Jim.

Edgars ignored Jim’s outburst, smiling coldly. “It’s three years until you reach your majority of twenty-one, boy, and until then, I own your worthless hide. You will marry Nero if I have to deliver you to the altar in chains.” His smile twisted cruelly. “In fact, from what I hear of Baron Nero, he would prefer to see his bride delivered in such a manner.”

“I will not marry the man,” Jim bit out. Twenty-thousand pounds. Christ. For that much money his step-father would deliver him bound and gagged to the baron. He could not allow that to happen. His step-father, for all his canings and vicious words, instilled mere loathing in Jim, not fear. But Nero--there was something off about the man, something not right. The few times they had encountered one another, the baron’s greedy gaze had crawled over Jim, hot and possessive, leaving him feeling unclean. The thought of marrying the man, being under his power…Jim would gladly take a hundred canings first.

His step-father raised a hand to yank viciously on the bell pull. “It is time you learned, once and for all, that you have no say in the matter.”

The door to the study opened and Jim spun, tensing as two of his step-father’s burly footmen entered the room; Exley and Fox, the ones who did his step-father’s dirty work.

Edgars gestured. “Take the boy to his room and lock him there. I want a watch kept on him at all times until the day of the wedding, when he becomes Nero’s problem.” Edgars sneered as Jim backed away from the approaching men. “I look forward to the day Nero strips you of your worthless Kirk pride.”

Jim had already dismissed his step-father from consideration as he focused on the two muscle bound hulks approaching. At eighteen, Jim was already an experienced and successful brawler, cheerfully wading in against odds that would give men twice his size pause. It wasn’t enough. He gave a good accounting, bloodying Fox’s nose and doing damage to Exley’s ribs but, in the end, Jim’s still developing teenage body was no match and he found himself stunned and roughly dragged to his rooms.

Listening to the click of his door’s lock, Jim staggered to his bed and sank down, wishing for a desperate moment that Sam was with him, that his mother was still alive. He allowed himself one moment to feel the hurt and fear, the knowledge that he was completely alone. And then, falling back on his ‘worthless Kirk pride’, he began to plan.

************************************

Leonard Horatio Vincent McCoy, Earl of Huntfield, scowled down at the broken carriage wheel and cursed. “Fuck. The gods are against us, Scotty.”

Leonard’s driver and all around manservant nodded sagely. “Aye, well, they’re against our carriage at the very least.”

"Fuck,” Leonard repeated with feeling. “How close is it to the next town?”

“Ah, that would be Newshire which is about, oh…” Scotty scratched at his chin, considering, “about a two hour journey by horse.”

Leonard looked up at the gloomy sky which was threatening rain and grunted his disapproval. “Lovely. Well, there’s no point in waiting. I’ll release the horses; you pack up the essentials.”

“Right you are,” Scotty agreed brightly and Leonard scowled again. His main complaint about his long time servant was that the man was more cheerful than any mortal bound to earth had a right to be.

They reached the town and its only Inn almost two hours later, under a blanket of steady, soaking rain that had even Scotty acting less than his usual chipper self. The lateness of the hour and the miserable weather had apparently driven everyone inside because there was no one to greet them at the entrance to the Inn’s stables.

Dismounting, Leonard and Scotty led their horses inside the stables and tended to their tired mounts in silence. Finished, they headed back into the rain, crossing the Inn’s main courtyard, intent on a warm meal and a chance to dry out. The wet, muffled sounds had them both stopping and, with a silent exchange, moving towards the source, around the side of the stables. Turning the corner of the large structure, Leonard immediately felt a flush of outrage as he watched two large figures carrying a violently struggling smaller figure between them.

“What the hell are you men doing there?” Leonard barked out and the two larger figures stilled. The thrashing of the smaller person, whom he could see now was bound, increased.

“This ain’t no business of yours,” one of the large men informed Leonard, his tone full of threat. “You just go on about your night and you won’t be hurt.”

Eyes narrowing, Leonard shifted the bag he was holding as he reached into his overcoat and withdrew his pistol. “I assure you, I’m at no risk of injury. Let your victim go.” He knew without looking that Scotty had also drawn his own pistol.

“Oy now, look,” the man said, switching to a placating tone at the sight of the weapon, “no need for violence. This here’s a runaway. We’re jus’ returning him home, is all.”

“By tying him up?” Leonard asked with acid skepticism.

“He’s a stubborn one, that’s what he is,” the brute responded with a shrug that roughly jounced the figure the two men were still holding. Hindered by the dim light and rain, Leonard could barely make out anything about the bound man—or youth—except for an impression of stubbornness based on his continuous struggles.

“Well, let’s just call the local constable and he can sort matters out, shall we?” Leonard drawled, keeping his gun steady and hoping the rain hadn’t ruined the powder. It would be a damn shame if he survived three years of practicing battlefield medicine in the Peninsula only to die at the hands of a couple of unsavory Englishmen.   “I’m sure fine, upstanding gentlemen such as yourselves don’t have anything to hide.”

He watched with grim amusement as the two men eyed him and then each other, uneasiness plain.

“Ah, t’hell with it,” the first man finally sneered and both men dropped their captive who fell to the ground with a thud that made Leonard wince in sympathy. “We’ll find ye another time, boy.” And before Leonard could stop him, the man drew back and kicked the bound figure, eliciting a muffled grunt.

“Oy, that’s not sporting at all,” Scotty cried in outrage as the men quickly hustled to their waiting closed carriage. With one in the box and one of them at the reins, they swept off into the night, leaving Leonard and Scotty alone with their still bound and thrashing rescue victim.

Leonard turned to Scotty. “Keep an eye out in case they’re planning to sneak back and finish what they started. I’ll check on our friend here.”

“Aye,” Scotty nodded and quickly disappeared into the sodden darkness.

Leonard slowly approached the figure on the ground who immediately began scooting back. As he neared, Leonard looked down into wary, fierce eyes that stared up at him from a bedraggled face, a gag cutting into the boy’s mouth.

“I’m not going to hurt you, son.” Leonard kept his voice low and soothing, taking the tone he would with a skittish horse. “I’m going to take the gag off and then I’m going to untie you, all right?” He waited, not moving, as those eyes took his measure. Oddly, he found himself holding his breath in anticipation of the verdict, as if it mattered whether this stranger, this boy, decided he was worthy of trust. Finally some of the tenseness bled out of the boy’s frame and he nodded. At the silent permission, Leonard reached out slowly, pulling the gag gently out and down around the boy’s neck. “Better?” he asked gruffly.

The boy coughed and then nodded, responding with a raspy, “Yes.”

“Now, let’s see about these ropes.” Leonard examined the soaked knots and realized it would be much quicker to cut them. “The knots are too tight to untie. I’m going to get my knife out, all right?”

The boy kept silent but offered another wary nod, eyes still tracking Leonard’s movements as he pulled his travel knife out of his boot and carefully sliced first through the bindings on the boy’s hands and then those hobbling his ankles. Freed, the boy let out a shuddering breath and sprung up, unsteady enough that Leonard reached out a hand to support him. Surprisingly developed muscles tensed under his touch and then, as Leonard made no further movements, slowly relaxed.

"All right now?” Leonard asked, leaving his hand out in support.

The boy took another steadying breath and then offered a cautious smile, a flash of white in the shadows. “Better than I was five minutes ago.”

Leonard snorted, relieved the lad didn’t seem much worse for wear, although…

“It looks as though you picked up some injuries from those brutes,” he observed, frowning. “You should come into the Inn with me and I’ll take a look.”

The relaxed stance immediately stiffened and the boy’s chin took on a stubborn tilt. “I’m fine. I need to be on my way…”

Leonard scowled. “Don’t be an idiot. I’m a doctor and you’re certainly not fine. At the very least you need your cuts cleaned. Do you know what happens when you leave injuries untreated?” Leonard had certainly observed the effects, too damned many times. “They get infected is what happens. Or maybe you want to lose a hand or an eye or have your damn nose fall off. In that case, it’s probably for the best you be ‘on your way’, so that you can die young and not pass on your idiocy to the next generation.”

Leonard regretted his harsh speech as soon as he ceased speaking. His bedside manner had only ever been described as god-awful, his naturally sardonic nature made worse by years of treating rough soldiers in battlefield conditions. The last thing he wanted was to scare the boy off. However, at Leonard’s gruff words, the boy actually settled a little, smile tilting up into a sudden lopsided grin as he massaged his abraded wrists. “Are you really a doctor?” He sounded amused.

Leonard rolled his eyes at the question. “No, son. I just go around claiming the title so I can feel important.”

This drew a soft snort of appreciative laughter and Leonard felt an unexpected jolt of interest from his groin at the husky sound. Well, fucking hell, he had obviously been too long at war if a drowned rat of a boy in a stable yard was enough to affect him. Leonard felt a moment of self-disgust. The boy needed help, not the sexual interest of a burnt out doctor who most days felt twice his twenty-eight years.

But one thing treating countless wounded soldiers had given Leonard was a sense for those who would respond to coddling and those who would shy away from obvious concern.

Going with those instincts, Leonard shrugged indifferently. “Well, I’m wet, cold and hungry as hell. So I’ll be going inside the Inn where I pray they have a decent cook and perhaps even some decent liquor that won’t burn a hole in my gut. You can join me, or you can stay out here and take your chances with those hulking friends of yours. The choice is yours.” He turned his back on the boy and started walking, giving a low, carrying whistle to signal Scotty he was on the move again. Leonard was acutely aware of the silence behind him before he heard the sound of boots squelching against the muddy ground and felt the sudden presence of the youth at his side, carrying a valise of his own.

“I suppose I can stay for a short while before I head out.” The tone was studiously indifferent.

“If you like.”

Leonard allowed himself a small smile, hidden by the dim light.

They entered the Inn proper and Leonard quickly secured a private set of rooms with a small parlor, located on the second floor of the Inn, ordering three hot meals and brandy to be brought up as quickly as possible.

Once upstairs, Leonard shed his overcoat with a sigh of relief, cupping his hands before the fireplace. “I fucking hate the rain,” he growled, feeling out of sorts with all England.

“I like it.”

The cheerful challenge of the voice had Leonard looking over and he blinked at the sight that met him.

The boy…wasn’t a boy. And he certainly no longer looked like a drowned rat. He had shed his own overcoat and was stripping out of his damp shirt, not self conscious in the least. He draped it over a chair situated near the fire, before rummaging in his scuffed valise for a replacement.  Leonard’s new acquaintance was young, yes, but he had the lean, muscled body and confident bearing of a man. He likely hadn’t hit his full height yet and still had some filling out to do, but Leonard had seen men as young as this one fight, bleed and kill for their country; had been wrist deep in their guts trying to save them so they could return home to their mothers and sweethearts.

Leonard was sure none of them had been this ridiculously pretty, though. It startled Leonard, even through the wet hair plastered to the young man’s head and the generally abused condition of his face and body. The very abused condition of his body, Leonard realized with sudden fury as he took in the scars that decorated the young man’s back. There were layers of them, consistent with repeated canings, a sight Leonard knew well from treating soldiers punished under the harsh British military code. No, this was no boy, and from the look of those scars, he hadn’t been one for quite some time.

But for now he was smiling, seemingly relaxed and enjoying himself, despite the injuries and recent near brush with abduction.

“Well, that makes you a contrary bastard,” Leonard snapped back as he realized the silence was stretching out. He consciously tried to dismiss the impact of the stranger’s devilishly handsome features, piercing blue eyes and engaging smile. The young man was still young, not to mention vulnerable and clearly the victim of past abuse, damn it.

“You would not be the first to say so,” was the amused response.

Leonard thought for a horrifying instant that he had voiced his thoughts on the stranger’s attractiveness aloud, until he realized that the other man was just answering the accusation of being a contrary bastard.

Leonard breathed a sigh of relief as the contrary bastard in question flashed him a charismatic grin and joined him by the fire, shaking rain darkened hair to help it dry.

Leonard snorted and shook his head. “Somehow, that really doesn’t surprise me.” Rising, he moved to a nearby table and poured water from a pitcher into a bowl, carrying it back with him. Opening his medical bag, he motioned at the young man, the youth— it was easier to think of him that way. “Let me take a look at your injuries before dinner arrives.”

The youth rolled his eyes but turned to face Leonard, arms spread agreeably. “I’m fine, Sawbones. I’ve had worse on a Saturday night down at the local tavern.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Leonard snapped, reaching a hand up to probe at the cut on the youth’s cheek. It was going to bloom into spectacular color soon but it wasn’t serious. Further probing proved the cheek hadn’t been fractured. “I suppose you’re one of those young idiots who think fighting is fun.”

This got him an innocent blink of blue eyes. “Fighting is fun.”

Leonard just shook his head and grunted as he dabbed pure spirits of alcohol on the boy's cuts.

“Thousands of ways a man can die by accident and he still has to go seek out new and ever more idiotic means.”

The youth laughed, not even wincing at the pull on his cuts. “It’s a challenge, Sawbones.”

Leonard gave his best scowl as he started cleaning the cuts on the youth’s face. “Don’t call me Sawbones, stripling.”

The youth just smiled wider, amused. “Well I don’t know your name. Sawbones.”

Leonard gave an exasperated hmph and glared. “I begin to wonder why anyone would actually go to the trouble of trying to kidnap you. And the name is McCoy. Leonard McCoy.”

“Huh. I actually like Sawbones bett…ow!”

“Oh, I apologize,” Leonard offered dryly at the accusatory stare. “Did I press too hard?”

“It’s fine,” came the response, equally dry, and Leonard had to bite back a chuckle.

“And should I call you anything besides ‘stripling’?” he asked, pointedly.

There was a short pause and Leonard felt himself being studied again, the stare more thoughtful than wary this time. “Jim.”

“Alright, Jim,” Leonard gestured. “Remove your shirt. I want to examine your ribs. That was a nasty kick you took earlier.”

He was half expecting a return of wariness but Jim just shrugged out of the article of clothing, seeming completely comfortable half-dressed in front of a stranger.

Leonard carefully pressed his fingers along the ribs. Hearing Jim’s sharp intake of breath, he looked up to see if he was causing pain and met lazy eyes and a considering smile that seemed to tell of a different reaction altogether. Telling himself he was being ridiculous, Leonard returned his attention to his examination. Finally, after another minute of exploration, Leonard gave a grunt of satisfaction. “Well your ribs aren’t fractured, it’s just surface bruising. Looks like you’ll live after all.”

“So I will be able to pass on my idiocy to the next generation?”

“If you must.” Leonard’s mouth quirked into a half smile, amused in spite of himself.

They were staring at each other in silence, each pondering the other, when they were interrupted by the arrival of a cheerful barmaid bearing their dinner and Scotty, who arrived shortly behind her with the rest of the bags.

“Ah, dinner. Excellent!” Scotty announced, as he dumped the bags against a wall and turned his good natured gaze upon Jim. “And hallo there. We weren’t properly introduced what with those bloody brutes out there and the kidnapping and such. I’m Scotty.” He offered his hand to shake and Jim took it, amused.

“Jim. My thanks for the assistance earlier.”

“Oh, not at all. Most fun I’ve had since we returned to England,” Scotty assured him and moved to start dishing out the pot of steaming stew into bowls.

“Where were you returning from?” Jim asked, accepting the bowl with a nod of thanks.

“Oh, we were in the Peninsula, fighting the frogs,” Scotty answered as he sat down and proceed to stuff his mouth full of stew and bread with a contented, “hmmm.”

“I thought you were a doctor?” Jim asked, turning to look at Leonard, a hint of challenge entering his eyes.

“I am a doctor,” Leonard snorted as he dove into his own meal. “I didn’t fight. I just patched up our men so they could fight.” He shook his head at the memories. “Don’t know what good I did in the end. Putting men back together just to see them go right out to get shot up again—a goddamn waste, if you ask me, which the idiot generals most assuredly never did.”

“I’m guessing the ones you helped thought you did some good,” Jim offered quietly and Leonard looked up at the other man’s tone. Seeing his inquiring glance, Jim shrugged. “My brother is fighting in the Peninsula. I don’t know if he’s even alive, but who knows,” he offered Leonard a half-smile, “maybe you patched him up on some battlefield somewhere.”

They all went silent as they focused on their meals but Leonard was not at all surprised when Scotty, forthright and always curious, broached the subject of the aborted kidnapping attempt.

“So why were those men after you, lad?” Scotty asked as he refilled his bowl.

Leonard watched Jim hesitate, chewing his food slowly before looking up, eyes suddenly hard. “My step-father thinks he can pay off his debts by selling me into marriage.” He looked back down into the dregs of his stew and shrugged, shoulders tense. “Starving would be preferable to the bastard he’s picked out.”

Jim stood abruptly, placing his empty bowl on the table and nodding at the other men. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out a few coins, placing them next to the bowl. “Thank you again for the rescue. I should be going, if I’m to stay ahead of my step-father’s goons.” He stood for a moment, pulling his shoulders back as if bracing himself for battle.

Leonard reacted without thinking. “Well, there’s no sense in you leaving now,” he heard himself say. “It’s dark and raining and you won’t get a mile, especially on foot. You can bunk down with us and head out in the morning.”

He watched Jim open his mouth—Leonard somehow knew it was to refuse—and so he scowled. “Leaving now would be an idiotic thing to do and I think you know my opinion on idiots.”

This earned him a raised eyebrow and an amused grin. “Well, yes, I believe you have made yourself perfectly clear on the matter of idiots. Sawbones.” They stared at each other, Leonard challenging, Jim wearing a smirk that slowly faded before he finally, slowly, shrugged and sat back down with a muttered, “I guess I could stay the night.” Leonard didn’t question the odd feeling of relief.

Dawn had barely begun staking its claim on the day when Leonard awoke from a sound sleep. After two years of living in battlefield conditions he was trained to awaken alert and cautious, and he immediately began searching for whatever had pulled him from sleep. There. It was the barely heard rustling of cloth, the quiet footsteps of someone sneaking. Leonard opened his eyes to slits as he slowly tilted his head to take in the shadowed shape of their new companion. Jim stood, hesitating, at the entrance to their shared rooms. He was looking back at them--back at him--Leonard realized, feeling more than seeing the weight of Jim's stare in the still dim rooms.

And then the other man turned and slipped out.

Leonard was on his feet without conscious thought, wrestling into his shirt and breeches and pulling on his boots with a low curse.

The actions were enough to rouse Scotty, who jack-knifed up with wild eyes and a yelped, "I didna know she was married!"

"Go back to sleep," Leonard whispered with an automatic roll of his eyes, too intent on catching Jim to notice when Scotty settled at his voice.

Descending swiftly to the common rooms, Leonard scanned the large area.

"Damnation," he muttered when he didn't spot the other man. With Brute One and Brute Two after him, Jim probably wouldn't keep to the main roads and, if Leonard had missed him, it would be impossible to know which direction the younger man had taken. Leonard headed towards the Inn's front entrance to see if he could spot his target and then, at the sound of soft giggles, paused. Turning towards the laughter, he watched Jim emerge from what was likely the door to the kitchens, holding a wrapped package and smiling with good natured flirtation down at his companion. The source of the giggles, the barmaid, was laughing up at him, happiness elevating her plain features to pretty.

Jim looked up and, seeing Leonard, hesitated, smile faltering for the briefest of moments, before it returned in full charming force.

"Sawbones! I was just heading out. I stopped to pick up some food from Sally." Jim smiled again at the maid who dipped a quick curtsy to Leonard at his nod and, with a last wistful smile for Jim, murmured her excuses and disappeared back into the kitchens.

Going with the same instincts that had worked with Jim last night, Leonard crossed his arms and arched a brow. "So, you were just going to leave without saying goodbye."

"I thought it would be for the best. Based on your surly temper, you clearly don’t get enough sleep and you looked nice and peaceful abed." There was a thread of wistfulness in the younger man's voice at odds with his affable smile and teasing words.

Leonard shook his head, reaching out to lay a restraining hand on the younger man’s arm. "Jim, you're not going anywhere."

He realized immediately it was the wrong thing to do as Jim stiffened and pulled his arm away, head snapping up as blue eyes gleamed with sudden anger. "I wasn't aware that you had any authority over my actions, Doctor."

Leonard's eyes narrowed at the younger man's reaction. "You're not going anywhere because you're better off with us. Scotty and I are riding north towards the border to visit a friend. We're turning in the carriage hacks for better mounts and we can all ride out together this morning."

Leonard watched the refusal forming on Jim's face and shook his head in exasperation. "Are you really going to be an idiot about this? I certainly hope not, because the only thing I hate more than idiots is when I am required to repeat myself to idiots.”

"I don't want to bring my troubles on you and Scotty," Jim insisted, eyes stubborn.

Leonard arched a brow at this. "What are friends for if you can't drag them into the occasional attempted kidnapping or two? In any event, we'll be moving fast on horseback so should likely outpace any trouble. And if we do run into the louts who attacked you, well, they don't exactly strike me as deep strategic thinkers. You could even assist if they showed up again, instead of getting yourself tied up." He deliberately kept his voice to a low, mocking drawl.

Jim's eyes had narrowed as Leonard spoke, but after a moment of mutual glaring, his mouth quirked up into a reluctant smile, which turned into a grin. "Perhaps I enjoy being tied up and rescued."

The words sent an immediate twinge of interest to Leonard’s groin—which he was goddamn well going to ignore—even as he snorted.

"Somehow I doubt you're the type to sit back and do nothing," he observed dryly.

"It depends on the situation. Sometimes it can be quite enjoyable to let someone else do all the work."

Fuck. The interest of his groin suddenly a great deal less ignorable, Leonard shook his head in exasperation. "I’m going to rouse Scotty. We should begin preparations for our departure."

He turned and headed back towards their rooms, giving a mental sigh of relief when he felt the presence of the younger man catch up to him.

"Thanks, Sawbones."

The words were soft and, when Leonard glanced over, he saw a quizzical frown directed at him before it was replaced by a neutral expression.

Leonard sighed, mostly for show. "Don't call me Sawbones."

TO BE CONTINUED

PART II - HERE

Star Trek XI - Space Pirate Jim

2009-09-03T08:23:06Z

Title: Space Pirate Jim
Summary: Written for space_married. AU Prompt (09) - On the day of his wedding to Jocelyn, McCoy is kidnapped by Space Pirate Kirk, who marries him instead to get his hands on the McCoy millions/billions that Bones only gains access to after his marriage.
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, sex talk
Genre: Oh, this is crack. Total crack.
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Words: 2,618
Spoilers: Uh, no.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Many, many thanks to savoytruffle for her very helpful suggestions and comments and continuous enabling! Any remaining errors are all mine.

Space Pirate Jim

Leonard McCoy downed the glass of bourbon and told himself this marriage was a good idea. It was a good idea. Jocelyn was a nice girl and their families approved and, dammit, this was how things were done when you were the heir to the biggest fucking fortune in the galaxy, rah fucking rah. You married some other heir to a smaller, but still respectable, fortune so all that money could come together and procreate.

At least that was his parents’ reason for wanting the marriage. Leonard had his own. When he married, his paternal great grandfather’s trust kicked in and he’d have access to a sizable fortune free and clear of the family strings. Then he could finally put the McCoy money to a use other than compounding, could finally do something good with it.

And if getting married was the price, well…it had to happen someday. Leonard eyed the decanter. He was tempted, oh so tempted to pour another shot but no way in hell was he showing up to his own wedding drunk. Jocelyn didn’t deserve that, not to mention the fit his mother would throw because that woman had a hell of a right hook for such a tiny person.

It was time to step up and become a husband. Setting the tumbler down with a thud, Leonard squared his shoulders, and turned and… “Fuck!” He let loose the startled shout when he almost ran straight into the man standing, easy, in front of him. The guy was young, dark blonde hair, mid-twenties, and too pretty to be anything but trouble.

“Hi! My name’s Jim.” The introduction was offered with an engaging grin and a gleam of good natured mischief in blue eyes.

“How the fuck did you get in here?” Leonard scowled because his ever present and resented bodyguards were right outside the door and those human attack dogs would never let a stranger just waltz in alone.

“Transporter beam,” was the cheerful answer.

Leonard’s eyes narrowed. “Kid, this place has shields against transporters.”

The man just nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they’re really good ones too. Took Scotty almost an hour to figure out how to beam me through them.”

“The hell you say. These are the best damn shields the federation has to offer, and you broke through them in under an hour?” It sounded like bullshit, but there was something about the confident stance of the kid, the certainty in his bold blue eyes, that made Leonard halfway believe him. And if the kid had arranged to beam in here to a room alone with Leonard…well, he should probably be calling for security right about now. Leonard wasn’t exactly sure why he wasn’t.

“What are you, a kidnapper?” Leonard asked, still somehow not really believing it. Maybe he was a prostitute smuggled in by a soon-to-be-ex friend; somebody’s idea of a bad joke. He just wasn’t sensing any real threat from the kid and, if he was a kidnapper, he was sure as hell the friendliest one Leonard had ever met. And he’d encountered a few.

“Uhm, yeah,” the man’s expression turned sheepish, “actually, I kind of am a kidnapper.”

Leonard blinked in surprise. “Oh.”

They stared at each other for a long unblinking moment and then they both moved at the same time, Leonard lashing out with a fist, while the kid ducked as he leaned in to grab Leonard in a bear hug, shouting, “Scotty, now!”

The tingling sensation of the transporter beam fizzed its way through Leonard’s system as he let out a disgruntled “God…”

…dammit.” He stumbled back from the other man and shook himself. “I fucking hate transporters.”

“Come now, transporters are perfectly safe.” Leonard spun around at the sound of the cheerful brogue and spotted another man, medium build, open face, standing at a set of controls. Great, that must be Scotty, a.k.a. Kidnapper Number Two. He felt the presence of more people but his attention focused back on the blue eyed maniac standing in front of him.

“Sorry,” Jim, a.k.a. Kidnapper Number One, did have the grace to look a little apologetic. “But it was the only way to get you out of there. You really do have good security.”

“Yeah, you’re damn right we do,” Leonard snarled, taking a threatening step towards the man who’d just kidnapped him. “And they’re all on their way to rescue me. So why don’t you put me back right the fuck now and maybe you won’t spend the rest of your life in an off-world penal facility.”

The kidnapper just shrugged. “That would be kind of silly after all the effort we went through to get you here. Besides, we went to warp as soon as we transported aboard. They can’t track us.”

Leonard jerked his head, looking out of one of the view screens he’d been too pre-occupied to notice before. Well, fuck.

Growling, he turned back to his kidnapper. “Look, my family’s not going to pay any damn ransom, so you either fucking kill me or let me go because, otherwise, you’re just wasting everyone’s goddamn time. And maybe you don’t have anything better to do today, but it happens to be my goddamn wedding day.”

“Oh, I know it’s your wedding day and I didn’t kidnap you for ransom. Or…not exactly.”

Leonard scoffed. “Enlighten me then. Why the fuck am I here, if it’s not for ransom? Did you kidnap me so we could talk about baseball? Are you lonely because your mommy didn’t arrange enough play dates for you as a kid?” And maybe he shouldn’t have been trying to antagonize his kidnapper but, fuck it, he was feeling antagonized and why should he be the only one?

But his kidnapper just stared at him, bemused. “Wow, you’re a very sarcastic person."

Leonard felt a vein start to throb beneath his right eye. “Why am I here?”

“Right, well, so this may sound a little weird but…we’re getting married.”

Leonard blinked. “What?” Maybe he’d drunk more than he’d thought and he was in an alcohol induced coma, hooked up to some hospital biobed having a really weird dream. One could only hope.

“No, really, see that’s why I had to kidnap you today because since I’m going to marry you I had to make sure she didn’t marry you and…”

Leonard decided two things. One, the kid was fucking certifiable. He had been kidnapped by a lunatic. And two, violence was clearly called for.

He went for the phaser that his security team always made him wear and aimed it at the kid. “Okay, you’re turning this bucket around and taking me back now.”

The kid just stared at him, eyebrows raised. “You’re wearing a weapon on your wedding day?” He looked past Leonard, frowning. “Scotty, we really should know about things like that.”

“Whoops, sorry!” came the cheerful answer.

“Yes, I’m wearing a weapon on my wedding day. It’s trained on you and it’s set to kill so, unless you want your insides fried, I suggest you get Kidnapper Number Two back there to turn us around and everybody else stays back.”

The kid stared at him, head tilted to the side as he considered Leonard. “Nope.”

Leonard blinked, a little nonplussed by the fact that other man didn’t look the least bit concerned about being held at phaser point.

“What the hell do you mean, nope? I have a phaser pointed at your head.” He made sure to enunciate slowly just in case the kid was brain damaged which was looking more and more damn likely.

The kid just shrugged. “You’re not going to shoot me.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am!” And, Jesus, he was arguing with his kidnapper like they were a couple of two year olds in a sandbox.

“You wouldn’t kill a man in cold blood.” It was stated with such certainty that Leonard wanted to pull the trigger just to prove the smug bastard wrong.

“Kid, you don’t even know me,” Leonard snapped, exasperated.

“Of course I know you.” The kid sounded offended of all things. “You think I’d kidnap—you think I’d marry—someone I don’t know anything about?” He turned away from Leonard and started pacing while Leonard kept his phaser trained on him and tried not to think about the other kidnappers lurking in his peripheral vision.

“You’re a doctor…went against your family’s wishes to study medicine. Actually held a job for awhile before your family quashed it, first time any McCoy’s done that in about eight generations. You still volunteer at free clinics. You lobby for medical reform. You’re a healer and a truly decent guy.”

Leonard barely saw the other man bring his own phaser up and didn’t have time to blink before the jolt hit his system and the world went dark, but he did hear the faint words that sounded tinny through the rushing in his ears. “Me, not so much.”

Jim Kirk looked down, studying the unconscious man. Leonard Horatio McCoy wasn’t exactly what he’d expected. For one thing, he was a grumpy bastard. He watched Scotty step away from his control station and peer down along with the others who had approached.

“I like him,” Scotty said enthusiastically. “He’s got spirit.”

Jim continued studying McCoy, his features relaxed and almost peaceful while at rest. It was the first time since they’d come face to face that the man wasn’t wearing a scowl. “Yeah,” he murmured thoughtfully. “I kinda like him, too.”

****************************************

Leonard woke up chained to a bed. He looked up in disbelief at the old fashioned metal restraints cuffing his left wrist to a bed post and, shaking it, listened to the solid rattling evidence of his captivity.

“Hey, so let’s talk some more about the marriage thing.” His head whipped around to take in the form of his kidnapper who was straddling a chair, arms resting on the back.

Leonard groaned and let his head drop back onto the pillow. “I’ve been kidnapped by lunatics.”

“No,” Jim corrected, “you’ve been kidnapped by space pirates.”

“Space pirates?” Leonard glared at the other man. “What are you, twelve?”

This just got him a smirk. “Twenty-three, actually. So okay, Doc, let me tell you why we should get married.”

Leonard kept glaring. “Let me tell you why we shouldn’t.”

“One,” the kid continued on like Leonard hadn’t spoken, “we inherit a whole lot of money when we get married.”

“When I get married. I inherit a whole lot of money when I get married. Which is why I’m marrying Jocelyn.”

Jim frowned. “Oh, yeah, her. She seems okay but you can do better.”

“Like with you?” Leonard asked, incredulous, and then sneered. “Yeah, I can see how you’re quite the catch.”

“Hey, I am an excellent catch. My IQ tests in the top 0.2 percentile of all federation citizens. I’m a certified, documented genius. I have my own ship and crew. And I’m cute. So look, we get married, share the money and have lots of sex. What could be better?”

“I am not marrying you.”

“Well, actually, it’s not like you have a choice. I mean…” the kid shrugged apologetically, “I am a space pirate. We get married or I toss you out an airlock.”

Leonard was handcuffed to a bed by a man who’d already phasered him once and was now threatening to space him. He should be cautious and agreeable and wait for his chance to escape. “Fuck you.”

The kid beamed at him, nodding. “Y’know, that is an excellent plan. We should fuck and you’ll see how amazing that part of our marriage will be.” He stood up and started taking off his shoes.

“You…what the hell is wrong with you?”

The kid smirked at him. “Well, I’m a space pirate. Space pirates pillage.” He shrugged out of his shirt and, Jesus, the kid was ripped, hard muscles and tan skin, basically a walking temptation to sin.

Who was planning to pillage him.

“Kid, come near me with anything that sticks out and I will rip it off.”

The kid paused in the process of unfastening his belt, eyeing Leonard for a long, considering moment before shrugging. “Or we could play cards.” He re-buckled his belt as his eyes swept the room. “I know I’ve got a deck somewhere.”

The kid located a deck and sat back in his chair, smiling with a hint of something fierce behind the grin. “Let’s talk terms.”

Five minutes later Leonard awkwardly picked up his cards with his free hand. “So, if I win, I get to go free.” He studied the cards he’d been dealt.

“Yup, and if I win, we get married.” There was a determined note in the kid’s voice.

Leonard was pretty sure it had been a mistake to agree to this, but the truth was he was handcuffed to a bed by a man who’d already phasered him once. His options were kind of limited. At least agreeing to the card game had halted talks of pillaging.

Fourteen hands and a decimated pile of chips later, Leonard was scowling in frustration. “Fuck!”

This earned him a cheerful, smug grin. “Tempting but, y’know, I’ve been thinking and, let’s wait for the honeymoon.”

Leonard looked at the kid’s smirk and experienced a rare occasion in which words failed him. Because…fuck.

Leonard didn’t mean to keep his word. He’d been abducted by space pirates. He was under no obligation to get married just because he’d lost a game he’d agreed to under duress. But the irritating part was that Kidnapper Number One—call me Space Pirate Jim—seemed to take it for granted that Leonard would keep his word. After the game, he’d un-cuffed Leonard and showed him around the ship, talking about the great retrofit he was going to give his lady when the funds came through, and how he was going to expand to have a whole fleet, and asking where Leonard wanted to go for their honeymoon. The kid was distracting and funny and razor sharp smart…and ridiculously hot.

And somehow Leonard found himself standing in front of Scotty three hours later, surrounded by a handful of witnesses including…was that a Vulcan? “You have a Vulcan space pirate?” he asked Jim incredulously.

“Yeah, Spock’s awesome. Just never insult his mother.”

Scotty, who in addition to being an engineer was apparently a legally appointed minister of the church of Fellernine Saturna, conducted the ceremony in his cheerful brogue, adding one more layer of insanity to the whole thing.

Leonard swore to himself he wasn’t going through with it. He was going to say no, the threat of spacing bedamned. And then Scotty asked the question and Leonard looked across the aisle at where Space Pirate Jim was beaming at him like this was the best idea ever and Leonard heard the words “I do,” and realized they’d somehow come from him.

And then it was too late to take it back because Scotty was happily announcing, “And now you may kiss the bride!”

Before Leonard could object to the term—because no fucking way in hell was he the goddamn bride—he was distracted by Kirk laying lips on him, warm and then hot and then nova hot, sensations shooting straight through him from his fingers to his curling toes. By the time they pulled back, Leonard’s heart was hammering in his chest, his dick was throbbing and, staring into Jim’s eyes, he was beginning to think blue might be his new favorite color.

And that apparently lunacy was catching. Because he’d somehow gone and married a fucking space pirate. And he just couldn’t bring himself to mind.

END

A/N - Yeah, I saw this prompt and just...couldn't resist. And the crack will continue, oh yes. Because I signed up for a second prompt. And it involves Regency England Jim escaping from his evil betrothed, Nero, and eloping with Bones to Gretna Green. *face palm of shame*

Uhm, sequel here because I am just suggestible like that - SEQUEL

Star Trek XI - Four Ways Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy Could Have Met...And the One Way They Do

2009-08-30T10:38:46Z

Title: Glimpses of Realities a.k.a. Four Ways Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy Could Have Met...And the One Way They Do
Summary: See title above
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, sexual discussions, injured minor, references to child abuse
Genre: Some angst, some humor, some gen, some slash, some AU (basically a little bit of everything)
Pairing: Slash Kirk/McCoy as well as Gen Kirk & McCoy
Words: 4,041
Spoilers: Not that I can spot.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Many, many thanks to savoytruffle and blcwriter for their very helpful suggestions and comments! I always know a fic will be so much better after they're through with it. Any remaining errors are all mine.

Four Ways Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy Could Have Met...And the One Way They Do

Jimmy Kirk

“Someone’s moved into the Lennox place,” Leonard’s mom mentions at supper.

“They have any kids?” Leonard looks up from his meal, distracted from his two week, on-going, internal pep talk to convince himself it’s not the end of the world if he asks Jocelyn Evans out and she says no.

“Seems there’re two boys. Their father—step-father, actually, as I heard it from Edna—moved them over from Iowa. The mother’s in Starfleet and on some deep space mission. But, anyhow, the boys are eight and twelve, and as I heard it from Divia over at the grade school they're quite smart young men based on their school records. Although what their mother is thinking taking herself out to space when she’s got two young boys who need her...” Leonard watches as she shakes her head in real dismay while his dad makes agreeing noises.

The thought of Leonard’s mom doing something like leaving him and his dad alone to go off into space is completely alien and Leonard feels a moment of sympathy for the two kids before he dismisses them from his thoughts. Because blond haired, sweet smelling, sixteen year old Jocelyn Evans is a damn sight more interesting to think about than two little kids.

The next day he’s in the front yard, raking leaves the old fashioned way because his father figures it’ll build character. Leonard scowls at his dog, Beau, as the mutt runs through the pile that he just raked. “I will sell you,” he threatens. Beau barks in response and runs through the leaves again.

“Nice dog.”

Leonard looks up, startled, and meets the tentative, friendly blue eyes of a skinny young kid, who then turns to stare at Beau with a wistful look.

“Yeah, he’s a pretty good dog.” He scowls down at the mutt who’s cheerfully zipping back through the pile of leaves again on the way to saying hello to his new friend. There are leaves scattered back all over the place, not to mention the ones stuck in Beau’s fur. “Even if he’s about to get a whack with this rake.”

“No! Don’t punish him. He’s really sorry. I can tell.” The eyes have gone a little wary now and the hands petting Beau close protectively around him. Beau pants, tail still thumping, and gives the kid's face a friendly swipe of the tongue, entirely unconcerned.

Leonard blinks, frowning. “I wasn’t serious kid. I’m not gonna punish a dog for doing what comes natural.”

The kid studies him for another wary second and then relaxes. “Okay.”

The small, thin frame is almost eclipsed by the boisterous form of Beau and Leonard grins a little at the sight, before turning back with a sigh to finish raking the leaves. He’s surprised when, a minute later, the kid gets up and starts shoveling leaves into the bags Leonard has lying on the ground for later.

“Hey kid, you don’t need to do that.”

“I don’t mind.” It’s almost shyly offered.

“Well,” Leonard runs a hand through shaggy dark hair, bemused, and then shrugs, “if you want to.” He figures the kid’ll get bored in a bit and wander off.

The kid’s still there an hour later when they bag up the last of the leaves and debris. Leonard looks across at the sweaty, flushed face. “So my name’s Leonard. Len.”

“Jimmy.” This time the words are offered with beaming blue eyes and a wide flash of white teeth.

“So, Jimmy, you want some lemonade? My mom makes it homemade.” Least he can do when the kid’s worked up a sweat helping him out.

The smile flashes wider and the eyes fill with delight. “Yeah!”

They hang out over two glasses of lemonade apiece and some filched oatmeal cookies and Len is surprised he’s not bored. Jimmy’s young but, shit, he's smart. And funny. Kid can hold his own in a conversation and his grin is bright enough to light up the high school stadium. When Len looks at the clock and remarks with surprise that his mom’ll be home from her club meeting to start supper soon, he watches the light fade from Jimmy’s eyes.

“Oh, I, yeah, I should probably get home too.” The kid doesn’t move though, staring down into his empty glass.

“You, uh, you wanna stay for dinner?” The invitation just sorta slips out.

The light returns to the kid’s eyes in full force as he grins. “Really? Can my brother Sam come to supper too?”

Leonard shrugs. “Yeah, sure.”

He watches Jimmy scamper off to hunt down his brother and is reminded for an instant of Beau.

Jimmy and his older brother Sam show up for dinner that night and Len looks on in amusement as his mom immediately takes a shine to the two ‘practically motherless’ boys. She’s about adopted them as kin by the time they roll out of the McCoy home with overstuffed bellies and an extra plate full of brownies.

“Y’all come back over anytime you want,” she says cheerfully.

“Y’know, if you guys wanna come back tomorrow I can show you around town,” Len offers. He’d planned to try to ‘accidentally’ run into Jocelyn at the pool tomorrow. But, hell, he can do that another time.

The brothers show up the next morning and Leonard shows them all the best spots to hang out. Sam disappears into a baseball game when Leonard introduces him to Billy Rawlings and his gang who are all about Sam’s age. But Jimmy sticks with Leonard and somehow he doesn’t mind.

After that, the Kirk boys just kind of keep showing up for dinner.

*********************************************************

Leonard H. McCoy

Leonard is in his third week of residency at University of Iowa Hospitals & Clinics. He’s exhausted by the demanding job and grateful for it, because at least he’s too busy and tired most of the time to think about how his marriage has fallen apart, and how he’s basically ceded the entire fucking state of Georgia to Jocelyn who he wishes he could hate more than he does. He tries to, but he’s so tired and sick to his soul he can’t really do the job proper, so mostly he’s just unhappy and bitter. But Iowa’s actually not absolutely horrible, aside from the fucking hellish freezing cold. UIHC’s one of the top ranked teaching hospitals in the country and it’s far enough away from well wishing friends and relatives as long as he avoids the vid-phone, which he does, programming it to refuse all calls originating anywhere south of the Iowa state border. He’ll make it up to his parents later.

It’s the middle of the night and he’s in the middle of his shift in the ER when Nurse Kelley informs him there’s a case for him in exam room 7. He enters and immediately wants to go back out and beat the hell out of whoever’s responsible for the state of his patient. The kid’s a mess, nose broken, bruised all to hell, and he’s holding his arm in a way that shouts ‘fracture.’ But it’s his eyes that hit Leonard the hardest. Bright blue and blank, not even a hint of tears, just control that shouldn’t exist in someone this young. And then the kid, teenager really, since his messed up face and lanky frame could be anywhere from fourteen to eighteen, smirks up at him and says, “Hey, doc…so I was rocketboarding and I fell. Think I broke my arm.”

Leonard raises an eyebrow. “Really? Funny, the bruise on your cheek there looks like it was caused by a fist.”

The kid doesn’t even blink. “Yeah, I landed on my fist when I fell. I’m clumsy like that.”

Leonard just keeps staring and using his raised eyebrow because he’s already learned that silence along with a look of disbelief starts most people babbling defensively, especially coming from an authority figure like a doctor. But this kid isn’t most people because the smirk just widens into what may be an attempt at an angelic smile. It’s hard to tell between the black eye, bruised cheekbone and blood still dripping slowly down from the misshapen nose.

Leonard finally shakes his head and grabs his tricorder, starting his scan. “Whatever, kid. You’re a goddamn mess is what you are.”

Two hours later, Jim Kirk’s arm and nose are set and knitting, his bruises have undergone a session with a dermal regenerator and the cracked rib he hadn’t bothered to mention has been fused. Through it all, the kid had kept up a smart, snappy banter that Leonard couldn’t help but respond to even as the slow burn in his belly continued to simmer because someone beat this kid into the ground and Leonard wants to find that someone and return the fucking favor with goddamn interest.

Half way through the patch job, Leonard had asked in a casual tone whether Jim’s parent or guardian was in the waiting room, but the kid had just given him a canny look. Like the control, it was a look too old for a kid so young. “My mom’s off planet, my step-dad vid’d in the authorization for treatment.”

Leonard hasn’t been able to get anything else out of him.

But it doesn’t mean he won’t keep trying. As he prescribes some pain killers, he decides the direct approach has the best chance of working. He tries to keep a lid on his temper and his voice calm. “Look Jim, whoever did this to you, we can stop them. I can stop them.”

The kid’s shrugging back into his clothes, movements stiff and he pauses to give Leonard a long assessing stare. He must pass some test because the kid doesn’t bother bringing up the bullshit rocketboarding story again. “Don’t worry about it Doc. And do us both a favor and don’t bother reporting it. It never sticks and I’m eighteen in three months. Soon as I am, fucker’ll never hit me again.”

“He shouldn’t get away with hitting you now.” It’s a snarl and Leonard knows he should sound supportive or some goddamn shit but it’s impossible not to sound pissed with the fury burning a hole in his gut.

Something hard and cold enters Jim Kirk’s eyes. “Oh, he won’t.” Then the grin flashes wide again and it’s got a startling amount of power even framed by the bruised and bandaged features. “But thanks for the concern.”

Leonard watches the kid start to walk away.

“Hey, kid!”

Jim Kirk turns around, inquiring.

Leonard pauses and then huffs out a frustrated growl. “My full name’s Leonard H. McCoy. If you need…something, you can find me through the hospital.”

The kid just looks at him for another long, searching moment before the flashy grin relaxes into something quieter and more genuine. “Yeah, okay, I’ll…keep that in mind, Leonard H. McCoy."

****************************************************

Prison Break

Top of his class in med school. Chief resident at the most prestigious teaching hospital in the south. On his way to becoming the youngest chief surgeon ever at Georgia Med.

And Leonard’s reduced to taking a position at a penal facility on Xeti IX.

It’s about as far down as you can fall, but at least he’s still a doctor.

Anger and regret have worn his soul down to a shadow and, still, the memories are too raw. His father’s wasted body, riddled with pain and disease, begging for release. Jocelyn’s disappointed, and then increasingly disgusted, eyes as she watched him implode. The medical board’s ruthless, indifferent handling of the inquiry that left him blackballed from any respectable position. The haze of alcohol he’s been hiding in has been the only thing making his free fall from grace survivable, even as it’s stripped away the last of Leonard’s dignity and the last traces of remaining goodwill from the people around him.

So here he is, fucked up and burnt out and officially disgraced by the time he’s thirty-five. So maybe he deserves to be here in this fucked up place, with these fucked up souls who are even worse off than he is. Maybe he doesn’t. Doesn’t fucking matter, because this is all he has left. If he can’t work he might as well put a phaser to his throat and press the button.

“Bring the next one in,” he orders gruffly and Nurse Xiang nods, ushering in the next patient. The last doctor this place had employed hadn’t deserved the goddamn title. The man hadn’t even bothered to keep up with basic physicals and immunizations so Leonard’s been playing catch up because he might have fallen to the very bottom rung of his profession but he is still a doctor and he will continue to do his goddamn job to the best of his goddamn abilities.

“Kirk, James Tiberius,” he reads off of his data padd, noticing the prisoner’s long list of infirmary visits for various injuries from fights with other inmates.

“That’s me,” comes the cheerful response and Leonard looks up into vivid blue eyes and a good natured grin.

Leonard blinks, taken off guard. Based on Kirk’s history of fighting, he’d have expected a dangerous, hulking bruiser with the sullen, angry attitude of most of the prisoners. What he sees is a lean, cheerful man who looks like he should be out driving a motorcycle and doing extreme sports.

“You’re Kirk?” he asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “You’re the…” he looks down to refer back to Rajian’s notes “bane of Doctor Rajian’s existence?”

“Aww, Doc Rajian loved me.” The grin turns into a playful smirk. “I’m a loveable guy.”

“Uh huh.”

Prisoner Kirk starts removing his orange jumpsuit, barely impeded by the restraints.

“I didn’t tell you to take off your clothes.” He shoots a startled look at the guard in the corner who just looks back, amused.

“Don’t you want to examine me?”

Leonard’s impressed at the way Kirk manages to somehow make the statement suggestive without emphasizing a word, all the while wearing an innocent expression that in no way suits him.

“They have tricorders for that sort of thing,” Leonard responds dryly, amused by this kid in spite of himself.

The smirk flashes back to a grin. “Aww, what’s the fun in that?” But Kirk dutifully re-fastens his jumpsuit and hauls himself up onto the old, barely working biobed that’s a damn far cry from the state-of-the-art beds Leonard’s used to.

The check-up with Kirk leaves Leonard bemused and feeling oddly…lighter. The prisoner had flirted with him, provoked him—including calling him ‘Sawbones’, which Leonard hadn’t appreciated one damn bit—and surprised him with glimpses of a razor sharp intelligence hiding behind pretty eyes.

No. Not pretty eyes. Prisoners do not have pretty eyes. He has not sunk so low.

Two days later Leonard’s somehow not surprised at all to meet those cheerful, ‘not pretty’, blue eyes again as Kirk’s escorted back into the infirmary.

“A stomach ache? Really?” Leonard shoots him a skeptical glare, ignoring the odd sense of anticipation bubbling through him. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

Kirk just grins. “It got me here, didn’t it?”

Leonard gives him a hypospray just to be mean.

Seven weeks and twelve hyposprays later, the first successful prison break in the history of penal facility Xeti IX is engineered. Prisoner James Tiberius Kirk escapes, taking with him one hostage, the facility’s doctor, Leonard H. McCoy.

Eighteen months later, the doctor’s ex-wife, Jocelyn McCoy, successfully has the doctor’s status switched from missing to deceased and claims his pension. Three months after that, Jocelyn McCoy’s house, boat, and entire savings are mysteriously donated through untraceable, irreversible electronic transactions to the Iowa Foundation for endangered children.

James T. Kirk and Leonard H. McCoy are never heard from again.

They use aliases.

*********************************************************

Matchmaker

"Daddy, you’ll never guess who’s teaching my class on advanced tactics!”

Leonard smiles at seeing his baby girl so excited on the vid screen.

“Who, Jo?”

“It’s Captain James Kirk! We’ve talked and he’s so nice.”

“Really?” Leonard’s impressed because even he’s heard of the famous Captain Kirk. And then he frowns, because isn’t the captain known for being a womanizer…

“He hasn’t, uh, tried anything…?”

“Daddy.” This is accompanied by a roll of the eyes, the dramatic flair having been inherited directly from her mother. It sends a pang of longing for Jocelyn through Leonard, even though it’s been over a year now since the accident that took her life at the fucking senseless age of forty-three.

“Captain Kirk has been awesome. He’s hardly ever available to teach classes but the Enterprise is in dock for a full retrofit for the next six months. Daddy, the stuff he’s seen, the experiences he’s had…” Jo’s eyes go a little dreamy on the vid screen. “He’s just…amazing.”

All of Leonard’s fatherly alarm bells start ringing. His baby girl sounds infatuated with the notorious captain. And so maybe the man has saved earth a few times but that doesn’t mean he might not take advantage of his status as a hero to talk a smart, pretty young girl who would normally know better into inappropriate relations.

“Uh, Jo…” he says thinking fast, “I was meaning to tell you, I’ve been asked to give a speech at Starfleet Medical about the new procedure I developed to treat Mandin’s Disease, so I’ll be in San Francisco next weekend. I’d love to have you show me around campus.” So I can check out this asshole and bury the fucker if he’s been improper with you.

There’re times when it’s a disadvantage that his daughter’s a genius. “Mm hmm. You’ve already seen the campus. He’s a really great guy, Daddy. You’ll love him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Jo.”

“Mm hmm. See you next weekend, Daddy.”

His secretary Nellie lets him know that Starfleet is absolutely thrilled that the famous Doctor Leonard H. McCoy is going to be in town next weekend and would love to have him give a talk at Starfleet medical.

He arrives and gives the hastily assembled presentation to a full house. After the talk, Leonard’s ready to escape the last of his admirers and track down Jo when she finds him in the auditorium first. She’s not alone.

“Hey, Daddy.” She gives him a hug which he returns with interest and then he looks with narrowed eyes at the man who’s standing next to his baby girl.

“Daddy, this is Captain James Kirk.”

“Call me Jim.” The captain gives him a friendly, beaming smile as he offers a hand.

James Tiberius Kirk looks to be in his mid-thirties, clean cut but with a hint of daredevil lurking beneath his regulation hair and uniform. He’s ridiculously good looking and every inch the confident captain.

Leonard doesn’t like him.

“You always accompany your students to talks?” he asks, not bothering to disguise his suspicion and ignoring the extended hand.

“Daddy.”

It’s a ‘do not embarrass me’ warning and he quickly reassembles his expression into something less hostile as he reaches out and shakes the still extended hand, feeling the warm calloused grip. “Just askin’ a question, darlin’.”

Kirk’s smile widens and Leonard gets the irritated impression the other man’s laughing at him. “Cadet McCoy is an amazing young woman. Top student in my class, actually. She talks about you,” Kirk shoots an amused glance at Jo, “all the time and when she told me you were going to be on campus giving a lecture, I figured I could witness your genius in person. I’ve become a real admirer of your…work.”

Leonard frowns again, trying to decide if he should be flattered or suspicious—he decides he can be both—and also whether he was imagining what he could swear was innuendo in those last few words.

“Really?” He injects as much skepticism as he can into the word.

“Oh, yeah, really…and, actually, Cadet McCoy mentioned she’s busy with a student function tonight…”

Leonard shoots a startled glance at Jo. First he’s heard.

“…and since she said you don’t really know anyone else in the city, I wanted to offer my services—we could catch some dinner and I could show you around.”

Leonard blinks and studies Kirk’s friendly, seemingly open face. He can’t possibly be…is Kirk flirting?

Kirk’s expression shows nothing but shining, earnest sincerity. “I’d really love to hear more about the effectiveness of neural implants on the cerebral cortex. And I would love to get your insights into some of the cases we ran into during our five year exploratory mission.”

Oh, right. Leonard feels silly, relieved and a little disappointed all at once. Kirk apparently really is a fan of his work. He thinks about the various invitations he’s already gotten from doctors, professors, and a few very bold students and opens his mouth to turn the man down, because there’s something unsettling about Jim Kirk.

“Yeah, okay.” Well, he’ll just go and make absolutely sure Kirk doesn’t have any designs on his daughter. Although, he’s not getting any vibes from the two and their interactions seem reassuringly innocent—thank you, sweet Jesus.

He looks down to search for his hotel information so he can give it to Kirk and completely misses the satisfied smirk that passes over his daughter’s face as Captain Kirk looks over at her, eyebrows raised, to mouth an approving ‘Wow.’

Jo lets the smile return as she watches her irritated and baffled father be escorted out by the cheerful and relentless Captain Kirk. The man’s smart, dashing, funny, and pretty much all around awesome, not to mention being a stud. And ever since their first conversation, Jo’s been convinced the outgoing captain is just the man to pull Daddy out of the depression he’s been in since Mama’s accident.

Jocelyn McCoy would never have wanted her beloved husband to turn into a recluse. And the best thing is she used to laugh when Captain Kirk first started showing up on the vidcasts, saying with a wicked grin that Kirk was a hottie.

Jo’s pretty sure Mama’s looking down from heaven right now and laughing again.

************************************************

The Way We Know

Since he doesn’t want to be thrown up on, Jim figures he’d better distract the restless, irritable, acid tongued Leonard McCoy from the space phobia that’s making the man look wild around the eyes. Besides, the guy’s willing to share his alcohol, and he’s pretty much funny as hell. He’s earned a distraction.

Jim leans in close to the man’s ear as the shuttle takes off and uses his best ‘I’m so sexy’ voice. “Tell you what. You make it through this flight without throwing up on me and I’ll give you a blow job when we land.”

Leonard—okay, Jim can’t go through however long his acquaintance with this guy lasts calling him Leonard, he’ll have to come up with something better—throws him an incredulous glare.

“Well shit, kid, you have a high opinion of yourself. What makes you think I’d want a goddamn blow job from you?”

“Because, one, we’re guys and guys are not picky and, two, I am amazing at anything and everything related to sex.”

This earns him an impressive eye roll and Jim spends the rest of the flight telling Leonard—Len…McCoy…Doc…Sawbones?--only slightly exaggerated tales of his past sexual exploits. And, hey, it works because the man doesn’t throw up on him.

They’re still debating about whether Jim’s last story is physically possible when the shuttle makes its landing, smooth as silk. McCoy’s so busy arguing, he doesn’t even notice. “I’m a doctor kid. No way in hell you coulda done that.”

Jim smirks. “Two words: Double. Jointed.”

He glances out the nearest window and then gives the other man a friendly punch and a grin.

“See, Bones, I knew you could do it.” Jim points out the faint outline of buildings.

“Dammit kid,” the other man glares, “I already told you not to call me Bones. I hate nicknames.”

“Okay,” Jim agrees easily. “So do you want the blow job?” He tacks on a silent ‘Bones’ at the end of the sentence.

The man snorts. “Why the hell not. I deserve something for surviving this death trap.”

Jim laughs. He likes this guy.

END

A/N - This is kind of a change of pace for me but I've been wanting to try a 'five things' fic for the longest time. Of course it ended up being a 'four things' fic instead so, darn it, I didn't quite get there :)

SEQUELS TO THESE FICLETS

Jimmy Kirk sequel HERE
Prison Break sequel HERE

Star Trek Mirror Universe Fic - New Arrival (Star Trek XI)

2009-08-30T00:12:23Z

Title: New Arrival
Summary: Mirror!Chekov arrives aboard the Enterprise. Mirror!McCoy is not having a good week. The two are most definitely related. *snicker*
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, violence, sex, general sociopathic behavior, inappropriate author humor
Genre: Dark humor and angst?
Pairing: Mirror Kirk/Mirror McCoy, Gen Mirror!Checkov
Words: 1,498
Spoilers: Not really, no.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Many, many thanks to savoytruffle and blcwriter for their ~~encouragement of this insanity~~ awesome and thoughtful beta work! Any remaining errors are all mine.

Link to master fic index for 'Brightness Burns' series HERE

New Arrival

When Ensign Pavel Andreievich Chekov arrives exactly on time for his ‘welcome aboard and don’t bring any diseases with you’ physical, Leonard takes one look at the kid and feels his stomach sink. Fuck. This kid’s gonna be meat. He’s too young and he’s too pretty, he’s got a head full of fucking curls that make him look like a damn cherub, and he’s got doe eyes. All of that, along with the soft spoken Russian accent, combine to make Leonard want to lock this kid up somewhere safe for the next ten years. Because the Ensign may bring out every single one of Leonard’s protective instincts, but the kid’ll bring out a whole different set of instincts from every single predator on board.

It worries at Leonard even after the kid leaves with his soft voiced, “Thank you, Doktor McCoy,” and that pisses Leonard off because it’s not like there’s anything he can do about it. He tries to shrug it off, but he’s still trying as the day wears into night.

“Am I fucking boring you, McCoy?”

Leonard blinks up as Kirk stops thrusting. He’s grateful that Kirk mostly looks amused. One thing about the man, he is in no way insecure about his sexual prowess.

“What the fuck’s got you so distracted tonight?” Kirk has stopped mid thrust, dick half way buried in Leonard’s ass.

“This Chekov kid that arrived on board yesterday. He’s on your Bridge crew right?”

Kirk raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Chekov? Yeah, he’s a genius’s genius. The theoretical work he did on navigation at the Russian Academy has been the source of some major breakthroughs.” His eyes narrow a little. “Why the fuck are you thinking about Chekov while I’m fucking you?”

Leonard scowls. “Have you seen the kid? Everything about him screams ‘please come and make me your bitch’.”

“Oh, you mean like you’re my bitch?” Kirk’s smirking down at him now and Leonard snarls automatically even as his trained dick gives a betraying twitch.

"Fuck you, sir. I mean it. If his brain’s that valuable, shouldn’t you take steps to make sure it stays in his skull?”

Kirk’s smirk deepens. “Well that’s just…sweet of you. But I really wouldn’t worry about our young Mister Chekov.”

Leonard glares and swallows down the argument because he knows that tone. It means Kirk’s not going to do a goddamn thing to help.

“Fine,” Leonard snarls, “so you’ll just leave it to me to fucking patch the kid up when his mangled body shows up in Sickbay.” Okay, so that wasn’t actually swallowing down the argument.

Kirk’s eyes narrow thoughtfully as he stares down at Leonard. “So obviously I’m not doing enough here to keep your attention if you’re still talking about my new navigator.”

Leonard stares back and realizes with rising dismay that Kirk’s deciding to take this as a personal challenge.

Kirk leans down and whispers in a dark-edged voice. “Get ready for a long night, McCoy.”

Oh, fuck.

***************************************************

Two days later, Leonard’s scowling down at the body spread out on a biobed. What a fucking waste. Shaking his head, he calls the time of death as 2140.

Then he looks over at the second body spread out on a second biobed and calls that one too.

He looks back and forth between the two bodies and shakes his head again. Fuck, that’s a lot of blood.

“And Chekov did this?” he asks Christine again, just to make sure. She was the one who’d gotten the details from Security.

“Yes, I am wery, wery sorry about this, Doktor.”

That’s…not Christine.

Leonard looks up into apologetic, apparently sociopathic, doe eyes.

“Chekov, what are you doing here?” Leonard asks warily. Christine moves to put one of the bodies between them. Smart woman.

“I have come to apologize for causing you trouble,” Chekov says, eyes shining with earnest sincerity.

Leonard looks down at the two bodies. “I don’t think I’m the one you inconvenienced, son.”

“Oh, them.” Chekov rolls his eyes a little. “They deserwed to die. They think I should fuck them. I do not want to fuck them. So I kill them.”

“Oh.” Leonard looks down at the almost surgical knife patterns that crisscross the body closest to him. There’s something deeply disturbing about the enthusiasm of the knife work.

He looks back up and thinks, ‘Just stop talking.’ Of course, he doesn’t listen to his own damn fool self. “Kid, you really can’t go around killing people. Even people like…”

“Oh, I know. I know this. The Keptin has already spoken to me about this.”

“Oh, he has, has he?” Leonard can feel a headache brewing behind his eyes.

“Yes.” Chekov nods vigorously. “He explained I must not kill crewmembers no matter how they deserwe it. I may only inflict injuries that can be healed. If I really want to kill them, I must get the Keptin’s permission first.”

“Oh…” Leonard says. “That’s…” He’s already imagining a future filled with a steady stream of enthusiastically inflicted knife wounds.

“Yes, so anyhow, I come to apologize and tell you, no more dead bodies.” Chekov looks kind of like a puppy hoping for a pat on the head.

“That’s…that’s good, son.”

**********************************************

“Hello, Doktor McCoy!”

Leonard looks up from where’s he’s cleaning Yeoman Gant’s multiple knife wounds, a pattern combining slashes and thrusts, none fatal, all painful. Yeoman Gant stares in wide-eyed terror at Chekov who’s just entered Sickbay. The only reason the blood doesn’t drain from the injured man’s face is because he no longer has enough to spare.

“Why are you here, Chekov?” McCoy grunts. His vow to be nice the next time the scary baby sociopath wanders into Sickbay is falling to the wayside under the knowledge that it’s going to take up his entire fucking afternoon to put Gant back together. At least his ear is finally reattached.

“Oh, I thought I would wait for Yeoman Gant to be released. I was not done explaining to him why I did not like him, but I had to stop cutting him because he was losing too much blood and I promised the Keptin no more killing. But once you patch him up and put more blood in him I can cut him some more, yes?”

The look Chekov gives Gant sends chills down Leonard’s spine.

Gant whimpers.

Chekov turns his doe eyes back to Leonard and they’re nothing but sweet and earnest, like a kid hoping for a Popsicle.

Leonard stares back, incredulous. “Goddammit Chekov, I’m not patching this man up just so you can send him right back here again!”

He places himself in front of Gant even as he calls himself seventeen fucking kinds of fool. Fuck. He doesn’t even like Gant. The man’s a mean-as-nails asshole. Who’s currently clutching at the back of Leonard’s uniform like he’s five and Leonard’s his only protection from the bogeyman. The really young, curly haired bogeyman. With doe eyes. Fuck.

Chekov instantly looks chastened. “Okay, Doktor. I am sorry. Sulu, he said you would not go for this, but I figure it is worth the try.”

“Sulu?”

Chekov’s face brightens. “Oh, yes. He has been showing me around the Enterprise. He is wery good with the swords. I am wery good with the knives. Is fun.”

Leonard pictures the swashbuckling pirate and the baby sociopath bonding. God help them. God help them all.

“But anyhow, I should have listened. Sulu, he says you would not approve and I do not want to do anything to upset you,” Chekov continues, looking a little worried.

Leonard blinks. Good? But…

“Why?” he asks bluntly.

“Oh, Keptin Kirk would be upset if I upset you. I do not want to upset Keptin Kirk.”

Leonard just continues to stare, wary.

“He says if I ever cut you he would chop off my hands and feet,” Chekov explains. He sounds admiring. “So I do my best not to make you unhappy.”

“That’s…” disturbing on so many fucking levels. Although it’s real damn useful that Kirk apparently speaks baby sociopath.

Chekov turns his attention back to Gant, who is known ship-wide for being a badass, and who is still doing his best to hide behind Leonard. “I will see you another time and we can pick up our conversation where we left off, yes?” Chekov’s gaze switches back to Leonard and, yes, it is extremely fucking disturbing how the kid’s eyes can switch between psycho and nice young man from one blink to the next.

Gant starts crying.

“Bye, Doktor!” Chekov leaves with a cheerful wave.

Leonard just shakes his head, stalks to his office, and stalks back with two glasses.

“Here,” he shoves one of the tumblers of bourbon at Gant and gulps down the contents of the other. “You need a drink. And I deserve one."

END

A/N - So I originally started a Chekov fic where he comes aboard the Enterprise and gets totally abused by everyone until Kirk steps in and then I stopped because I couldn't do that to someone so young and because the fic just didn't feel right. So I gave up entirely on plans to write a Chekov fic except, apparently my subconscious didn't get the message, and it came up with this instead :)

Star Trek Mirror Universe Fic - Possession (Star Trek XI)

2009-08-22T04:17:03Z

Title: Possession
Summary: Mirror!Kirk meets Mirror!McCoy. Yeah, I think you know how this one goes.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, violence, non-consensual sex (mainly psychological), references to torture
Genre: Angst
Pairing: Mirror Kirk/Mirror McCoy
Words: 4,419
Spoilers: Not really, no.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Much thanks and hugs to savoytruffle and blcwriter for their awesome and thoughtful beta work! This fic did not go smoothly and without their suggestions and comments I would still be thunking my head against my desk. It's easily twice as good as before they got their hands on it. Any remaining errors are all mine.

Link to master fic index for 'Brightness Burns' series HERE

Continuation of Possession (FIRST PART HERE)

Leonard stumbles up and back, grateful for even the momentary distance. He pretends his hands aren’t trembling as he undoes his uniform. He’s a doctor. Being naked is natural, just skin and bones and muscles. But it’s his nerves that are on fire now as he feels Kirk’s eyes roaming, studying, analyzing. Leonard steps out of his pants and underwear without hesitation because fuck it if he’ll give the sadistic bastard the satisfaction of acting the part of a blushing virgin.

Leonard stands, teeth gritted, hands fisted awkwardly at his sides as Kirk gets up, pants still undone, hard dick poking obscenely up, glistening with traces of Leonard’s saliva, and does a slow, lazy circle of inspection around him.

“Nice,” Kirk finally comments, approving. “You might suck at fighting but you’re in shape.”

Kirk moves behind him and Leonard can’t control the flinch when warm, calloused hands reach up to trace over his shoulder muscles and more firmly down his back. And then the hands move to Leonard’s ass, kneading the cheeks, spreading them a little and then wider. “Very nice.” Kirk huffs a laugh as his fingers trace and probe at Leonard’s crack, exploring his body with the assuredness of ownership. It’s with horror that Leonard feels his sex starved, indiscriminate, ‘stupid as fuck all’ dick begin to respond.

He tries to will it down but then the heat and hard muscles of Kirk are settling against Leonard’s back, the unmistakable hot press of Kirk’s dick against the crack of his ass. He watches with growing resignation as Kirk reaches around Leonard’s stomach and down, fingering Leonard’s balls before taking his dick in hand.

Kirk slowly rubs himself against Leonard from behind while starting a relentless hand job that’s too hard and just fucking right. Leonard chokes back the groan, biting his lip against it and tasting blood. When the purposeful strokes stop, Leonard opens the eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed to see Kirk’s fingers hovering in front of his mouth.

“Suck.”

Leonard opens his mouth and Kirk pushes in three fingers. Leonard does what he’s ordered, sucks the long, blunt fingers, feeling the fine hair on top tickling the roof of his mouth, tasting the traces of salt. He soaks them until they’re abruptly withdrawn and he can’t stop the involuntary shudder as Kirk’s hand returns to Leonard's dick, saliva acting as a lubricant as Kirk picks up the pace, working him harder, rougher until a grunt of need forces its way past Leonard’s clenched teeth.

He’s fully hard and aching, bucking involuntarily into the strokes and he hates himself for it. But Kirk’s goddamn hands know just how to stroke, how to tighten, how to use fingers and palm to tease and stroke, and how to apply nails with just the right edge of threat. Leonard can feel the orgasm traveling down his spine, coiling in his belly, tightening at the base of his dick. And then Kirk pulls off and steps back.

“On the bed.”

Leonard refuses to look at the other man as he walks to Kirk’s adjacent bedroom and climbs on the bed, settling on his hands and knees. Tries not to consider how he must look, like a mare tied down for a stallion, even if the ropes holding him in place are invisible.

“Fuck.” Kirk’s voice is pure appreciation. “You look amazing on your hands and knees. Just waiting for me to fuck you open. Tempting as hell.” The voice comes closer until Leonard can see Kirk in his peripheral vision. “But I want you on your back.”

Leonard clenches his jaw and turns over because there’s no fucking point in even pretending he’s not going to do every damn thing Kirk tells him to. But he can’t keep the resentment from showing in his eyes and the tense lines of his body as he stares up at the ceiling.

He hears Kirk’s uniform hit the floor and then feels the bed indent as Kirk climbs on and straddles him, hot skin and hard muscles.

"McCoy, what did I tell you about looking me in the eyes?”

He obeys with a frustrated snarl. “Why the fuck do you care where I look?”

“Because every fucking thing you feel is in your eyes,” Kirk answers as he reaches down and starts toying with Leonard’s dick, and Leonard has to lock his muscles to keep from bucking up in search of more.

Kirk stops long enough to pick up a bottle of lube resting on the bed. He unscrews the cap and pours some on his fingers, reaching down to Leonard’s ass, pushing Leonard’s legs further apart for better access. “Every emotion that you suck at hiding is right there and it’s just…hot.” Two fingers probe briefly at Leonard’s entrance and then sink in, pushing and stretching as Leonard glares mutely into Kirk’s intent eyes.

“Yeah, just like that. Resentment that I own your ass. Resentment that I can make you want it. It all shines out of those pretty eyes.”

Leonard feels another finger pushing in and bites down a hiss of discomfort. “Fuck you’re tight,” Kirk mutters. “Have you even done this before?”

“Yes,” Leonard growls out, desperately wanting to look away from Kirk’s appreciative stare. If he could look away he could pretend he was with someone else. Could pretend he wasn’t about to get his ass fucked by his new commanding officer.

“Not lately though. Not as tight as you are.” Kirk’s fingers are all the way inside of Leonard now, a hard un-ignorable presence pushing deep and pulling out and pushing in again. “Your tight ass is going to feel amazing around my dick.” The fingers pull out and Kirk shifts position and then his dick is pushing in and fuck. Leonard feels the burning stretch hurt; feels his muscles try to lock up in protest against the invasion. He closes his eyes against the burn and immediately a warning, biting pinch on the skin of his inner thigh makes him snap them open again.

“I said, fucking look at me.” Kirk orders, voice hard as he finishes pushing into Leonard with a grunt, breath heavy with the effort. “If you can’t follow orders I’ll have to punish you.” He pulls out again and pushes in, establishing a slow, steady rhythm. “Maybe I’ll take a picture of you, spread open like this, being fucked by a dildo, eyes looking in the camera. Maybe I’ll make it the Ship’s new screensaver on every…single…comm unit.” Kirk thrusts with each word. “Would you like that, Doctor?”

Leonard feels his breath stutter in his chest at the threat, even as his traitorous, contrary dick surges. He knows Kirk feels it from the smile that blooms on the other man’s face.

“Maybe you would like that. Shall I get a recorder?”

“No,” Leonard gasps out, keeping his eyes desperately trained on Kirk, battling the need to look away from the relentless hard-eyed stare.

“No, what?” Another hard push in and this time Kirk stays buried in Leonard, filling him completely, dick prodding his prostate, sparking off constantly against the nerve cluster.

“No, sir.” It comes out more as a moan than anything as sensation starts to win out over resentment or embarrassment or any fucking thing except the need for release.

“Maybe I will,” Kirk mutters hoarsely. “Maybe I’ll post it on the main view screen of the Bridge so my command crew can look at your pretty ass being fucked while they manage this ship.” He slowly—Jesus, finally—starts to move again, rhythm picking up, moving faster and faster as he continues to threaten and promise, thrusting with more and more power. “Of course that might be distracting. Maybe I’ll just make it a personal screen saver. Maybe I’ll make a personal video for when I want to jerk off. Maybe I’ll…”

Leonard’s orgasm pulses out of him in a blinding, endless rush under the combined sensations of Kirk’s hands on his dick, the pounding in his ass, and the threats pouring into his ears. He can’t remember when—if—he’s ever come this hard and long before. He’s almost sobbing with it at the end. It isn’t until Leonard’s completely spent, muscles around his eyes trembling with the effort not to close that Kirk finally gives one last powerful thrust and comes with a harsh gasp, never once looking away as he shudders and jerks his orgasm into Leonard.

Kirk stays there, buried to the hilt, fine trembles vibrating into both of them. When the other man finally pulls out in one smooth motion and disappears off the bed Leonard’s eyes slip shut, exhaustion from the tension and the sex wringing him dry. He’s drifting when Kirk returns, cleaned up and dressed, standing by the side of the bed.

“Well that was fun. You’re dismissed, Doctor.”

It’s an order and an escape and Leonard half falls, half staggers off of the bed, crawling into his clothes, feeling the sweat and stains itching under his uniform. He forces himself to look at Kirk leaning back against his desk, arms crossed, watching.

“Nurse Chapel?” He croaks out the question.

“You can stop by Detention and pick her up. I’ll clear it.”

Leonard thinks about stopping by Detention like this, sweaty and rumpled and smelling of sex, the smirks and comments he’ll get. He thinks about stopping by his quarters first to get cleaned up but knows he won’t, because any extra moment Christine has to spend there is a moment too long. A moment Kirk could change his mind.

He nods and walks out the door. He feels Kirk’s intent, interested, gaze as he leaves and knows down to his uneasy bones this isn’t over.

************************************************

Three days later, Kirk saunters into Sickbay in the middle of Alpha shift. The captain heads directly for Nurse Chapel and Leonard feels the headache he’s been nursing for the last three days ratchet up as he crosses the room as fast as possible without running. Christine is pale and shaking, her still healing scars standing out in ugly relief as Kirk leans down and whispers in her ear. It’s a surprise that Christine actually seems to settle a little at whatever she’s hearing. And then Leonard reaches them and two gazes, one wary and one amused shift to him.

“Can I help you, Captain?” Leonard asks in the most respectful voice he can manage, watching with resignation as Kirk’s eyes wander up and down in appreciation.

“Oh, I stopped by to tell Nurse Chapel that upon further review of her file, the work violations have been deemed without merit and won’t be posted on her permanent record.” Kirk switches his gaze back to Christine and Leonard watches as pure beaming charisma focuses on his head nurse, who settles a little more and actually gives the captain a tentative smile.

Fuck. All Leonard can think for a moment is that James T. Kirk is fucking dangerous. And then he registers the unexpected news. “That’s good. That’s…really good.”

Kirk continues on, switching his attention back to Leonard. “Oh, and I do have another matter to discuss. In your office.”

Leonard follows the sauntering figure of his captain and feels his teeth grind down. He enters the small office behind Kirk and keys the door shut and he isn’t surprised at all when Kirk leans back against Leonard’s cluttered desk and starts unfastening his pants.

“Blow job. Now.”

“I have patients, Captain,” Leonard tries, fighting against the sense of inevitability.

“Blow job. Now. Here or out there.”

The already familiar combination of resentment and anger wells up in Leonard as he moves in front of Kirk and slowly sinks to his knees. He knows every bit of it shows as the steady hand tilts his chin up, forcing him to meet amused blue eyes.

“And don’t forget the importance of eye contact.”

END

Star Trek Mirror Universe Fic - Possession (Star Trek XI)

2009-08-22T04:12:01Z

From the moment Jim sees the gorgeous possibility of the Enterprise laid out in the cold hard science of schematics and diagrams he knows, down to his marrow, that he’s meant for this ship and nothing—nothing—can or will take it away from him.

And when he feels his feet hit her decks for the first time, it’s so right. The corridors curve in welcome and the barely perceptible hum and vibration of the mighty engines settle into his bones in permanent synchronicity. It’s stupid and weak to get attached to something—anything—this way, this much, but she’s his. His like it’s an immutable law of the universe.

He keeps the almost obsessive possession under control as he walks her decks and meets his crew, matching them up to the official dossiers committed to memory along with the much more interesting unofficial ones he’d commissioned.

On Jim’s second day aboard, he gets around to inspecting Sickbay.

And after a lifetime of casual, careless possession, the visceral grip of true ownership hits him a second time at the sight of his new Chief Physician, Leonard Horatio McCoy. It’s a double punch of mine to Jim’s gut and his dick as he lets his eyes travel up and down the man’s appealing, rangy body. Jim makes no secret of his lazy appreciation and notes with interest McCoy’s dark, answering flush, holding more anger than embarrassment.

As they tour the facilities, Jim makes idle, suggestive comments and fiddles with delicate medical equipment for the amusement factor of watching McCoy’s face tighten in badly contained temper. The scowl McCoy can’t seem to keep off his face suits him, like it’s the expression he’s meant to wear. Jim pictures those lips wrapped around his dick, those eyes glaring up at him.

Yeah, Jim thinks, the guy's just totally fuckable. He voices the thought out loud, biting back a laugh as the temper finally cuts loose, McCoy snarling that he’s a doctor not a fuck toy and ordering Jim to leave unless he wants a goddamn physical. Jim just flashes the doctor a grin and walks away, already making plans.

***************************************************

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…Leonard walks down the corridors of Deck 7 as anger and apprehension burn a hole in his gut. He’d known. He’d fucking known when their new captain had given him that playful smile that this wasn’t over. He should have just…fuck…shouldn’t have back-talked him…should have kept his eyes down…should have kept his fucking mouth shut.

He can still see the Security team entering Sickbay, armed with cold eyes and cruel smiles, grabbing Nurse Chapel as she’d stared back at Leonard, terrified, like he could somehow save her. He can still hear the message they relayed as they dragged Christine out. “The Captain says if you want to discuss the matter you should see him in person. In his quarters after 1700.”

Four hours Christine’s been in Detention. Four fucking hours, and now Leonard’s standing in front of the new captain’s quarters at exactly 1701 and hating himself for every extra second of hesitation. How the goddamn hell had his new captain even known Leonard would give a damn? Because he does. Christine wouldn’t be in Detention if he’d just…he can do this. He can keep his mouth shut and bend over and just, fuck, just keep your goddamn mouth shut, Len.

Ignoring the burning pit in his belly Leonard reaches out and keys the comm pad.

"Yes?” Visual doesn’t pop on, just Kirk’s calm voice.

“This is Chief Physician McCoy. I’d like to talk to you about one of my nurses being detained earlier today.” He keeps his voice even, respectful. He can do this.

There’s a brief pause and Leonard realizes he hasn’t considered that Captain Kirk might just turn him away. The brief flare of panic pushes out the rest. “Please…Captain.”

“Come in.”

Leonard enters and he barely takes note of the large, spacious quarters, his eyes and belly full of nerves all focused on the man sitting in front of the large desk. Kirk’s chair is spun so he’s facing Leonard, expression unreadable.

Leonard starts his rehearsed speech stiffly. “Captain, I came to request that you release Nurse Chapel from Detention. She’s the best nurse this ship has and…”

Kirk cuts him off with a loose shrug. “Yeah, I know. Nurse Christine Lauren Chapel, top of her class, top performance ratings. Wow, real shame about these work violations. If it’s officially reported it’ll set her career back. And of course there may be permanent physical or psychological damage depending on how long she’s in Detention and whether she’s allowed medical treatment.”

Kirk sounds vaguely sympathetic towards Christine’s fate.

“You…” Leonard growls out before choking back the words that want to erupt. “You know she hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s…”

Kirk’s face is impassive. “Actually, if I say she did something wrong, then she did something wrong. If I say she should be tortured to death for it, then she’ll be tortured to death for it.”

“So what the fuck do you want?” The words burst from Leonard’s throat, an explosion of tension and nerves, because Captain fucking Kirk is right. If Kirk decides to have Christine tortured or killed there’s nothing Leonard can do about it except back down or get himself condemned along with her.

Kirk slouches back in his chair. It’s the posture of a teenager and Leonard’s struck for an instant by how goddamn young this new captain is. Scuttlebutt has it he’s the youngest captain ever in the Fleet, just twenty-three. But there’s nothing young or unsure or soft in Kirk’s steady gaze.

“Well, first you’re going to beg for your nurse and then I’m going to fuck you.”

Kirk’s tone is so calm, so conversational that his answer takes a moment to penetrate Leonard’s nerves. Then it does, words sending a flush of rage and embarrassment through his face and body.

Leonard wants to smash the kid’s fucking face in.

Maybe he senses it, because Kirk rises suddenly, smirking as he moves towards Leonard and something about the predatory stalk pings Leonard’s survival instincts, bringing up the need to back away, to bow his head. Being a contrary dumb bastard, Leonard growls and stands his ground instead.

“Tell you what,” Kirk says, playfulness entering his eyes. “I’m in a good mood so I’ll make you an offer. If you can land a punch, just one, I’ll have our angelic Nurse Christine released and you can walk out of here.” The smirk widens into a grin. “C’mon, you know you want to.”

Leonard hesitates because he is not actually an idiot. Kirk is the captain of the flagship of the Fleet which means he’s either got connections up the whazoo or he’s dangerous as fuck in his own right, probably goddamn both. Even if Leonard lands a punch—and something about the still readiness of the other man tells him that’s a big if—Kirk can easily change his mind and put Leonard to death.

As if reading the hesitation and the reasoning behind it, Kirk takes a step back and spreads his arms. “Come on, I’m not fucking with you.” He pauses. “Well, I am fucking with you, but I’m serious about this.”

It has to be a goddamn trap. Leonard swings out and hits air, Kirk just somehow…shifting so he’s not where Leonard’s fist lands. It throws Leonard off balance but Kirk doesn’t take advantage of it, just dances a little to the side and waits.

“Aw, c’mon McCoy, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” The slightly chiding voice is meant to provoke and Leonard swings again with no better results.

“Wow. You kind of suck at this.” Kirk looks genuinely concerned about the lack of brawling skills in his medical personnel.

Fuck. Leonard charges, thinking if he can just tackle the guy, maybe he can get a blow in before…Kirk’s somehow behind him and twisting and it’s Leonard who ends up on the floor, face mashed into the carpet, immobilized.

“Three strikes,” Kirk’s voice says cheerfully, yanking Leonard’s arm up hard enough that sharp pain explodes up his stressed limb. Tendons and bone are close to giving way when Leonard’s arm is suddenly released and Kirk’s weight disappears off of his back. Leonard looks up, biting back a curse as he works his shoulder and watches the Captain drop back into his chair, leaning forward, chin propped up on a fist. Bastard’s not even breathing hard.

The bastard in question gives a little shrug. “Guess it’s back to the begging and the fucking then. Carry on.”

Glaring, Leonard regains his feet and the only way the words will come is in the form of a snarl. “Please fucking let her go, okay? You want to fuck me, fine. Fuck me. She’s a good nurse. She doesn’t deserve…”

“Okay, so you suck at begging too.” Kirk shakes his head, blue eyes showing a touch of exasperation. “It’s a really good thing for you that you’re a genius in your chosen profession. In fact, so that this part doesn’t take, y’know, forever, I’ll give you step by step instructions. Step one, where I come from, begging is done on the knees. So get down on your knees, McCoy, or leave.”

Leonard’s not sure he can do it for a wavering, shameful moment. Isn’t sure he can swallow his useless fucking pride until he’s sinking down, shame and rage flushing hot and cold through his body as his knees hit the floor with a soft thud.

Kirk gives a small nod of approval. “Now come here.”

Leonard tries to turn his brain off as he obeys in jerky, graceless movements, shuffling one knee in front of the other, looking down at the pale carpet until he finally stops in front of Kirk’s spread legs.

“Nice. Now here’s where you say, ‘Captain, I am begging you to please let my nurse go. I will do whatever you tell me to. I will gladly bend over and beg you to fuck me up the ass. Please, please, please let her go’.” Kirk could be giving instructions on how to repair a fucking power coupling.

Leonard’s jaw feels tense enough to shatter as he starts to grit out the words. “Captain…”

A chiding sound from Kirk interrupts him. “Oh, and look at me when you beg. It’s rude if you don’t.”

Leonard looks up, biting back a curse, and feels a moment of surprise because he’s expecting cruelty, lust, enjoyment...he doesn’t really fucking know. What he sees staring back at him instead is neutral calm.

Leonard forces his jaw muscles to relax enough to open. “Captain, I’m…” The words get stuck in his throat, lodged somewhere between his trachea and his hypopharynx and he can only glare mutely as he tries to force them out.

“You can do it,” Kirk encourages.

Leonard finally pushes past the bottleneck in his throat, voice hoarse and ragged with the strain of it. “I’m begging you to please let my nurse go. I will do whatever you tell me to. I…I will…fuck…goddammit please fucking let her go.” Leonard knows he’s fucking up Christine’s chances and opens his mouth to try again, to force out every single degrading, humiliating word. But then Kirk rolls his eyes and raises a hand to halt Leonard.

“You are so bad at this. Fuck it…close enough.” Leonard watches in disbelief as Kirk hits the call button on his comm unit.

“This is Kirk. Put a hold on Nurse Chapel’s discipline for now. Keep her in a cell until I give the order to release her.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

Kirk signs off and looks Leonard over and the neutral expression drops away to reveal the male approval simmering underneath. It makes Leonard want to blush and punch Kirk in the nuts and look away. Kirk looks so young from this close up.

Except for the eyes staring down at him.

“You look pretty good on your knees. Bet you’ll look even better sucking me off. Undo my pants.”

This is why he’s here. This is what he has to do. Leonard reaches out, motions jerky and ungraceful, unfastening Kirk’s uniform pants and pulling them open.

“Do you need instructions for this too?” Kirk asks with a hint of amusement.

Ignoring the question, Leonard sets Kirk’s dick free and starts to lean forward, only to be stopped by fingers firmly gripping his hair.

Leonard’s head is pulled up and he looks into eyes that hold a clear, cold threat. “I don’t mind some teeth, but biting down would be a bad idea. The consequences for you, and your entire Medical staff, would be…unpleasant. Got me?”

Leonard grits out a “Yessir,” and Kirk’s fingers relax enough to let Leonard lean forward again. Kirk’s fingers stay anchored in Leonard’s hair but, surprisingly, don’t take control. Leonard opens his mouth wide and settles over the other man’s already half-hard dick as he reaches up to wrap a hand at the base. Leonard knows how to do this. Maybe he hasn’t had much use for sex since Jocelyn tried to rip his guts out and light them on fire, but in med school exhausted students would give each other quick and dirty blow jobs and hand jobs to unwind and it’s not like he’s forgotten how.

Leonard uses his tongue, rubbing hard against the underside of Kirk’s dick and then pulling off to tongue at the slit as Kirk makes an encouraging noise of approval. He lets saliva smooth the way, taking more of Kirk in, suctioning and sliding until he feels the man’s dick hit the back of his throat. He uses his teeth, very, very carefully and notes from the reaction that the other man likes it.

"So there is something you’re good at besides medical shit.” Kirk’s voice is still amused and controlled, but Leonard has proof that he’s not unaffected, proof that lengthens and fills in Leonard’s mouth. He’s waiting for Kirk’s grip to tighten in his hair, or for the dick in his mouth to start pushing. But Kirk just watches Leonard work, giving the occasional “fuck yeah” when Leonard does something he likes.

Leonard’s sucking in earnest now and then Kirk’s hand is tightening its grip, but it’s to pull Leonard off. Startled, he feels the sweep of Kirk’s thumb over his wet lips.

“So fuckable,” Kirk observes in a dark-edged voice that’s no longer calm and sure as hell no longer unaffected. “But we don’t want this to be over too soon. Get up and take off your clothes.”

CONTINUE

Star Trek XI - Standalone fic - "But It's Tradition"

2009-08-20T05:55:41Z

Title: But It's Tradition
Summary: Jim and Bones christening the Captain's Chair
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, sex
Genre: Porn? Yeah, porn.
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Words: 1,310
Spoilers: Not really, no.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Thanks so much to savoytruffle and blcwriter for their thoughtful and very helpful beta work!

“What the hell are we doing here?” Bones asks, disgruntled, which Jim pays no attention to because disgruntled is Bones’ normal state of being. Now, if he ever greets Jim with a beaming smile and starts talking about what a beautiful day it is? That’s when Jim will be hauling his best friend’s very fine ass down to Sickbay so Chapel can scan for brain tumors.

But right now he just grins at Bones and, arms spread out, does a slow turning circle in the middle of the Enterprise Bridge. “Bones, do you happen to notice anything?”

“Other than the fact that you’re nuts?”

“Bones, the Bridge is empty.”

“Yeah, so?” But the wary note in his voice says Bones is starting to follow Jim’s line of thinking.

“So, c’mon.” Jim points to ‘The Chair’ and gives his best ‘You know you gotta have me’ smirk. “It’s our chance to christen ‘The Chair’.”

“First of all, it really disturbs me that I can hear the goddamn quotes when you say ‘The Chair’.” Bones raises his hands and makes said air quotes, fingers managing to convey deep, deep sarcasm. “And second, hell no.”

“Bones, it’s tradition.”

”No.”

“Fine,” Jim throws up his hands and saunters over to ‘The Chair’ where he starts shucking his clothes.

“Jim…” There’s a familiar warning note of exasperation in Bones’ voice.

Jim just smirks at him in all his naked glory; his naked tan glory since the last shore leave planet had included nude beaches. “What, you won’t help me? I’ll just christen her myself. You can watch.” He drops his bare ass into the large Captain’s chair, running his hands over the chair arms in slow, suggestive strokes. Then he spreads his legs a little, showcasing his dick which is already feeling pretty happy, telegraphing 100% pure provocation. Because if there’s one thing Jim knows how to do…it’s provoke.

Jim watches Bones watching him and slowly moves a hand down to wrap around his dick, savoring the storm rising in Bones’ eyes as Jim lazily starts to stroke himself. “Of course, this would be so much better if you were on this chair with me. If you were fucking my mouth with yours and your dick was inside of me and your hands were…”

“Fuck.”

Kirk knows he’s won, even before Bones stalks over and growls. “Get the fuck up.”

Grinning, Jim stands up and watches Bones yank off his uniform top, making short work of his pants and underwear. Bones sits down and scowls at Jim, desire and need and temper making his hazel eyes dark. “If anyone comes in here, I’m gonna inject you with seventeen different venereal diseases the next time you’re in Sickbay.”

Jim just grins and crawls onto Bones. He gets to have sex with Bones in ‘The Chair’ on the fucking Bridge of the fucking Enterprise. Fuck yes.

“You look good in my chair.” Jim mouths the words against Bones’ neck as he straddles the man’s thighs. His eyes close in appreciation as their dicks rub up against each other, the friction filled slide of hot skin against hot skin setting off pulses of need with every touch.

“You look pretty damn good on my lap,” Bones growls back, leaning in for a kiss that’s hot and messy and leaves them both groaning when they finally break apart. Reaching down, Bones grips both of their dicks in his large, capable hands and starts a slow rhythm that makes Jim squirm and gasp as he arches into the strokes.

“Don’t suppose you have any lube lying around up here?” Bones asks, never looking up from the sight of his hands working their dicks.

Jim reaches down and keys his code into the chair console and a little drawer pops out of the side. At the swooshing sound, Bones looks over at the drawer and gives a bark of disbelieving laughter. “You’ve got lube in the Captain’s chair?”

“A Captain should always be prepared, Bones.”

“That’s the fucking Boy Scouts, Jim.”

“I don’t think they give merit badges out for this, Bones.”

This gets him a snort. “I sure as hell hope not.”

“Anyway, are you complaining?” Jim asks as he opens the lube and starts to slick down Bones’ dick, the other man’s hands hovering over the process.

“Ngh…no…on second thought, I don’t have a single goddamn complaint about your sex-crazed habits,” Bones manages to grunt, hands clutching at the chair arms in an attempt not to reach down again.

“Okay then,” Jim lifts himself up, and starts slowly working himself onto the other man, hissing at the burning of his unprepared flesh being stretched out. The hissing turns into a gasp as Bones leans down and catches one of Jim’s nipples with a warm, moist tongue, dragging in a rough sweep over the nipple, eliciting a shiver. A soft scrape of teeth pulls another gasp and the relentless tonguing continues. Jim is frozen half way onto Bones’ dick, caught in the sensations as Bones brings a hand up to Jim’s other nipple, catching it firmly between thumb and finger, tweaking and rolling in a seemingly random pattern against the sensitive flesh. The multiple sensations have Jim moaning in appreciation as he starts to move, sinking down all the way, feeling Bones fill him. He starts a rhythm, hands coming up to steady himself on Bones’ muscled shoulders and to stroke through the soft dark hair falling forward across Bones’ forehead. “Bones, Bones, Bones, fuckyeahBones…”

“Fuck, Jim,” is the muffled groan against Jim’s skin, Bones’ tongue still licking and sweeping over and over until Jim can barely keep his rhythm and, oh, fuck, he feels his whole body shudder as Bones licks his way across to the other nipple.

And then the diabolical bastard bites down, hard enough to send sharp pain shooting through Jim’s body, the sensation transmuting into waves of pleasure and need that sweep down his body, rolling and crashing over the hyper sensitive nerves in his aching dick.

“Jesus,” Jim gasps out. One hand still gripping at Bones, he blindly reaches the other down to stroke his own dick as he rides Bones harder, filled by him, pleasure sparking and exploding with each heady stroke. “Gonna…gonna come if you don’t…”

“What…stop? You want me to stop?” Bones’ rough tone is teasing as he starts to lift his head and Kirk abandons his dick to reach up and anchor a hand back through Bones’ hair, pressing his head ruthlessly back down.

“Don’t you fucking dare stop,” Jim gasps and Bones bites him again in retaliation and oh fuckfuck…

”Fuck!” Jim shouts it as he shoots his orgasm all over Bones. Bones ignores the cum dripping down his chest and relentlessly continues sweeping his tongue over Jim’s nipple as Jim shudders and clenches and uses everything he can to get Bones to follow him over the edge. Finally, the other man does with a shout of his own, bucking up helplessly before they both collapse into each other's arms.

“Wow.” Jim says after a long minute.

“Wow works.” Bones mutters in agreement. And then Jim feels Bones stiffen, and not in a good way, and somehow Jim knows exactly what he’s going to see even before he looks over his shoulder and meets the carefully blank gaze of his First Officer. A faint green tinge may be staining the half-Vulcan’s cheeks. It’s hard to tell in this lighting.

“Hey Spock,” Jim calls out cheerfully, and okay, maybe it’s a little embarrassing to be caught riding Bones like a stallion by Spock, but well, these things happen.

Jim looks down at Bones, who’s looking up at him with murderous intent that’s barely masking furious embarrassment.

Jim loses the smile.

“You were, uh, kidding about the venereal diseases right?”

“Right?”

“Uhm, Bones?”

END

A/N - So, this was originally written for the Kink meme request found here:

http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/7030.html?thread=17352822#t17352822

I wrote it off the cuff and posted it and went back the next day and winced. Lesson learned, I should never post off the cuff *thunks head*. So I polished it furiously and got awesome beta comments and, yeah, much better.

But there's actually a very good first response to the meme before my later one, so if Kirk and Bones and licking nipples in the Captain's Chair is your thing, you might want to take a look at the first ficlet post. Also, *face palm*, how is it that I can use filthy filthy language when I'm actually writing the porn, but when I'm just posting an a/n like this I can barely type the word 'nipple' without blushing. Okay, geez, I actually am blushing. *shakes head at self*

Oh, and if anyone's wondering about a new Brightness Burns fic, there are actually two that are done and in the polishing stages so there will definitely be one posted by this weekend sometime :)

Star Trek XI - Standalone fic - "A Really Good Plan"

2009-08-09T03:15:23Z

Title: A Really Good Plan
Summary: Well...there are restraints, and a toppy Bones, and there's sex, and begging...and, uhm, that's about it.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Language, sex, restraints, toppy behavior
Genre: Porn?
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Words: 1,478
Spoilers: Not really, no.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Thank you again so much to savoytruffle blcwriter and thearchpoet for their beta work! Again, their suggestions have made this a much better fic. Any remaining errors would be mine :)

And...woohoo! I have finally managed to write plot-what-plot porn \o/

*cough* yes, I know it's kind of silly to be proud of writing something without plot but it was becoming like this personal challenge already. Sort of a...oh, I will write porn with no redeeming value or higher purpose....oh, I will.

A Really Good Plan

When Bones holds up the restraints, Jim actually feels the blood in his body deserting south to his dick because there’s this wicked look in Bones’ eyes, and this challenge in his expression, that’s holyshithot.

It’s been a week since the diplomatic mission to Zabreg IV, which included spiked punch and then nine hours trapped in a room, just him and Bones, with nothing but their revved up libidos to keep them occupied. Jim figures he owes that sneaky little seven-eyed Priestess the mother of all presents because, if not for her, he and Bones might never have fucked. And that... would have been a fucking tragedy.

Bones is turning out to be a lot more creative—and bossy—in the sack than Jim would have given him credit for because, case in point…restraints. Restraints and Bones. There is no bad.

So Jim grins and holds his hands out playfully and he’s still grinning when Bones reaches out instead and shoves him back onto the bed, tossing the restraints at him which Jim catches by reflex.

“Take your shirt off first.”

Yeah, the less clothes the better. Good plan. Good plan. Jim strips off his uniform and undershirt and flips them carelessly off the bed—one of the smartest things Starfleet has ever done is to invent uniforms that don’t wrinkle.

“Now cuff yourself.” Bones is still standing at the foot of the bed, just watching him, arms crossed.

“You are going to get involved with this at some point, right?” Jim asks with a smirk as he settles the restraints over his wrists and, leaning down, keys them on with a skillful drag of his tongue. He looks back up with a challenge and, yeah, Bones’ eyes have definitely gone darker and the bulge in his pants has definitely gotten bigger.

“Oh, I’ll get involved.” The promise is made in a low growling drawl that shoots straight to Jim’s dick and kind of makes him want to roll over and beg although he’s not going to admit to that part. At least not yet.

Jim watches Bones pace away, heading to a small closet and he frowns because Bones really needs to be on this bed with him. “Hey, the most amazing sex of your life is over this way!” he calls out, just in case Bones needs the reminder.

Bones returns, rolling his eyes, and holding something in his hands. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to leave you alone with your ego?”

Jim just grins. “Hey, I can make out with my ego anytime. Tonight’s for you.” His eyes track down to the object in Bones’ hands and he feels his eyebrows shoot up. “Bones, you’ve already got me tied up.”

Bones just holds the rope up, that wicked look back in his eyes as he crawls up onto the bed, large hand shooting out to push Jim flat. “Just making sure,” he drawls as he threads the rope between Jim’s cuffed hands and ties it to the headboard.

Jim tugs experimentally with his wrists. They’re not going anywhere but right now he’s more concerned with how Bones is sliding, ungentle, back over him, hitting his dick in a rough movement that draws a grunt as Bones sits back against his heels right between Jim’s legs which spread out automatically to accommodate the other man. As Bones continues to just sit there, eyeing Jim with a dark, considering stare, Jim spreads his legs wider and whines a little. “C’mon Bones, touch me.”

Bones just raises an eyebrow and scowls down at Jim. “Did I give you the impression you’re in charge of tonight’s program?” Despite his words, Bones’ hands reach out to undo Jim’s pants and Jim arches up to help as the other man tugs them off, taking Jim’s underwear with them. Bones tosses them aside and then large capable hands, fucking Doctor’s hands, close around Jim’s dick and his head thunks back in reaction as his dick jumps and fills further under the calloused heat of Bones’ slow, rough stroking. Jim raises his head again, even though it’s becoming an effort, because fuck, the sight of Bones’ hands on him, the focus in those hazel eyes, the lust and appreciation on his face, pretty much combine into the hottest fucking thing Jim’s ever seen.

"Nguh, Bones, more…please,” the begging trips off of his tongue and he watches through half lidded eyes as Bones stiffens and starts to jerk him off a little rougher.

"Please what?” Bones drawls, eyes darkening as he looks at Jim, a hand moving up to toy with one of Jim’s nipples, calloused thumb dragging teasingly across it and then strong fingers twisting hard, sending a wave of pure heat shooting straight into Jim’s dick.

Fuuuck. He is James fucking Tiberius Kirk and he has been tortured by scary as shit aliens for hours on end without giving up more than his name, rank and serial number but if Bones wants him to beg—he will goddamn beg.

“Bones, please fuck me, please…want you inside of me so bad…fuck, Bones, pleasepleaseplease.” Shit, he’s not even faking this, he just wants Bones in him and fuck the look that’s on Bones’ face right now. That look of almost awe, that’s the sexiest look Jim’s ever seen and it makes his chest feel tight with an ache that briefly overshadows the one in his dick.

“Jesus fucking Christ kid,” Bones’ raspy voice is made up of lust and dark promises and that pure underpinning of awe and suddenly he’s gone and Kirk’s barely starting to whine at the wrongness of that fact before Bones is back, pouring lube over a hand and then he’s pushing two fingers in without warning and Jim is arching, heels digging in at the feeling of being invaded and stretched out, the heat of those fingers and, “Moremoremore, please Bones, more.”

Bones is cursing steadily, fervently as he adds another finger, pushing deep and then curling and Jim’s head thunks back again and, “YesyesyesmoremoreBonesfuckmeplease.”

“Gonna fuck you,” Bones promises with a snarl as he withdraws his fingers, eliciting another instinctive whine of protest from Jim. Bones undoes his own belt with trembling hands, pushing his pants and underwear down, kicking out of them. “Gonna fuck you till all you can feel is me. Till you can’t sit down for a goddamn week without feeling me still inside of you.” And then the solid, large heat of Bones’ dick is pushing in and stretching him out and filling him, relentlessly, and all Jim can do is twist and writhe and moan and beg because his fucking hands are tied and he wants to touch. “Bones, untie me,” he begs as Bones slams into him and pulls out and slams in again, rocking Jim back against the bed. “Wanna…please…wanna touch you Bones.”

“No,” Bones growls and the meanness of it almost sends Jim over the edge as Bones reaches up to get a firm grip on Jim’s hair, pulling his head up. “Look at me Jim. I wanna see those baby blues of yours when you come for me.” The words are emphasized with another hard thrust.

“For you, yespleasepleasefuck.” Jim struggles to keep his eyes open as Bones starts moving faster and faster, relentlessly slamming home, hitting his prostate over and over and, “God, BonesBonesBones,” he shouts out as he comes too fast, overwhelming orgasm shooting out of him with relentless power and he’s shuddering and then bucking helplessly as Bones grips his dick and milks it ruthlessly through to the end and nothing could get his eyes away from Bones’ face now as the other man bellows and spasms, losing rhythm as Jim feels Bones emptying himself into him and this is going to be the image he sees every fucking time he closes his eyes. Every fucking time until the next time Bones does something so…fucking…hot.

Jim is a boneless sprawl as Bones finally pulls out and rolls to the side, the man’s big frame still heaving with exertion. Jim lies there for a good ten minutes, feeling his racing pulse slowly steadying, feeling the cool air that’s amazing against his sweat slicked overheated skin before he turns his head to make sure Bones hasn’t drifted off and left him like this. “Hey, Bones.”

“What?” Bones eyes are closed and he doesn’t open them.

“You think you can untie me now?”

This does get Bones to open his eyes and give Jim his attention—which is always a good thing as far as Jim is concerned—but then Bones just raises an eyebrow and that wicked gleam is back in his eyes.

"Hell no, kid. I’m not done with you yet.”

Jim bites back a groan as heat floods through his body at Bones’ words and, just, fuck...good plan…really good plan.

END

A/N - Hee! I think it's a reaction to writing such a super dominant MirrorKirk all the time in the Brightness Burns series that my Regular Kirk is so ready to roll over and beg for his Bones :D

Star Trek Mirror Universe Fic - Negotiations (Star Trek XI)

2009-08-08T04:26:30Z

Title: Negotiations
Summary: Mutiny aboard the Enterprise
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, violence, reference to dark themes (the usual Mirror Universe stuff)
Genre: Angst
Pairing: Mirror Kirk/Mirror McCoy
Words: 3,485
Spoilers: Not really, no.
Disclaimer: Characters and world are sadly not mine
Feedback: Always welcome

Much thanks and hugs to savoytruffle blcwriter and thearchpoet for their awesome and thoughtful beta work! They all made such invaluable suggestions for this fic and made it so much better. Any remaining errors would be mine :)

Link to master fic index for 'Brightness Burns' series HERE

Negotiations

The first time Leonard meets Lieutenant Uhura, the first thing he notices—because he’s not dead—is that she’s staggeringly beautiful. And then those stunning dark eyes of hers sweep over him like she’s wondering how much she can get for his dismembered body parts and he amends his first impression to ‘staggeringly beautiful and fucking scary.’ Nothing has happened since that first meeting to change his mind on either count.

And as she enters Sickbay now, hair pulled back to accentuate the cool composure of her perfect, sculpted features, Leonard feels cold tension slice through his body, even as Kirk smiles lazily up at her—a smile that says, I am such a badass that I will choose to be amused by your mutiny and assassination attempts. When Spock enters after her, the tension in Leonard’s belly turns to ice because goddamn and fuck, Uhura by herself is bad enough but Uhura and Spock? If these two have teamed up to take Kirk out, they might just be the ones dangerous and smart enough to do it.

“Doctor, please move to stand by the Captain’s bed,” Spock orders Leonard in polite, even tones, phaser aiming steadily at him.

“I called security,” Leonard tries as he grudgingly walks forward, stopping by Kirk’s bed at another gesture from Spock.

"You really didn’t,” Uhura corrects, dark-eyed gaze flickering briefly over him before returning to the real threat. Except the real threat has just barely survived ten hours of surgery, and is still dealing with damage that would kill pretty much anyone except the stubborn bastard who’s still managing to look entertained by this whole situation.

“Hey, Uhura, where’s my security detail?” Kirk asks with mild curiosity, like he’s asking whether she prefers bourbon or scotch. “Did you turn them or kill them?”

Spock is the one to respond. “They have been temporarily incapacitated and restrained. They are capable personnel and their termination would be a waste of useful resources.”

“I don’t know about capable. They did let themselves get taken out by you guys,” Kirk points out, ornery bastard that he is. “We really can’t have that kind of incompetence from my Security.”

“Spock and I are more than capable of handling a couple of your mouth breathers,” Uhura responds with a small cool smile. “And don’t worry they won’t be your Security for much longer.”

Her phaser is rising and she’s taking aim and Leonard has no fucking clue what to do, has no fucking clue what he’s about to do—just that the winding tension feels like it’s about to break inside of him—when Kirk shakes his head, still exuding confidence.

“You’re not going to kill me.”

Uhura’s smile grows a little scarier. “I really am.”

“Nope. Not going to. And I’ll tell you why.”

Uhura arches an eyebrow at this, looking genuinely curious as well as mildly amused. “Sure. Enlighten me, Captain, but make it fast. This needs to be over before shift change and stalling won’t get you there.”

“Okay,” Kirk props his battered body up and Leonard resists the urge to press him back down again because dammit those wounds are gonna start reopening if Kirk doesn’t stop pushing himself but it’s a stupid worry because they’ll both be dead in about five minutes unless Kirk pulls some kind of miracle out of his ass. Which, granted, he’s pretty damn good at.

Kirk gestures at Uhura. “Nyota Upenda Uhura, from the Bantu Province of the Empire, two sisters, seven aunts, five uncles, twenty two cousins, father dead, mother the clan matriarch…”

“Very good, you know my family background.” Uhura’s smile has disappeared, her expression cool and disinterested, but there’s an undercurrent of nerves in her voice at hearing her life and roots being laid out by Kirk in such a matter of fact manner. “I suppose you’re going to threaten them next?”

Kirk manages to look wounded at the accusation. “I wouldn’t threaten your family, Uhura. They’re kick-ass. Take your pretty little sister Samara for instance. She’s, what, sixteen now and studying botany at the Academy, following in her big sister’s footsteps so she can serve the Empire. She seems really happy with her life and hey, she’s even got a new lover, Kagan. Did she tell you about him yet?” The question is posed politely.

“And then there’s Asis. Her name means ‘The Sun’ right? She’s beautiful too. I know she’s only a low level civil servant now but I’m sure she’ll rise up the ranks of the Bantu Government quickly, she’s such a hard worker and smart, really smart. A bit of a coffee addict though. Goes to the same coffee shop every single morning on her way to work and orders an organic double French espresso, extra tall.” Kirk’s voice is suddenly sharp as a blade. “Shall I go on?”

A muscle has started working in Uhura’s jaw but she manages a credible, “My family are very capable of taking care of themselves.”

“Yes, they are.” There’s something different now about Kirk’s voice, a kick up in intensity, a change in the timbre that catches Leonard’s attention and suddenly it’s not threat Kirk’s exuding, it’s charisma, pulling Uhura in. Leonard’s seen it before, that dark, shining charm that draws people to the Captain, inspiring loyalty in a society where cut throat betrayal is far more common.

Leonard watches Kirk willing her to listen to him.

“Uhura, why do you think I brought you on board the Enterprise? Your posting didn’t happen by accident. I want you on board. Your brilliant mind—top marks at the Academy—your facility with languages, your zero tolerance for bullshit. And your family. You think I don’t know the Uhura family’s one of the rising powers in the African Provinces? You’ve got connections throughout the entire Continent and, y’know what, hell, you probably could hold the Enterprise for awhile if you take me out.” There’s a hint of real admiration in Kirk’s voice, more effective than false flattery could ever be, and Leonard watches it impact Uhura in spite of herself.

“That is,” Kirk continues on, voice matter of fact, “until the next hotshot comes along and slits your throat.”

Kirk directs his next question to the still presence of his first officer without ever moving his gaze from the silent stare down he’s got going with Uhura. “Spock, what are the chances Uhura makes it through her first year after taking over captaincy of the Enterprise?”

There is the slightest of pauses. “There is an approximately 27.2 percentage chance Uhura will survive and retain her Captainship of the Enterprise for twelve months. With a 0.4 plus or minus variable.”

“And her chances of holding the position for at least five years?” Kirk could be casually asking about the weather and Leonard thinks--with a touch of something that feels almost like awe--that people forget how very goddamn good Kirk is when he chooses to use the art of negotiation in place of brute force.

“The percentage chance that Uhura will retain Captainship of the Enterprise for five years decreases to 4.2 with a 0.7 plus or minus variable.” Leonard watches the muscle in Uhura’s jaw tighten up again as she turns to stare at Spock’s composed features, searching, her weapon never wavering from its focus on Kirk.

Kirk’s eyes stay steady on Uhura’s face. “That’s your boy calling the odds, not me. And that’s actually with Spock by your side—smart move that, by the way. He’s half alien, so he’ll never be allowed to make Captain, and with him by your side your chances are a hell of a lot better than without, a whole 4.2%. Plus or minus.”

He pauses and nods at Spock. “Of course, while it’s admirably loyal of Spock to back you with those odds, it doesn’t seem like you’re showing a whole lot of care for your lover’s safety.”

Wait, what?

“What?” The question escapes before Leonard can ponder the advisability of drawing the attention of the two mutineers but…what?

It’s okay though, because everyone just goddamn ignores him, as Leonard continues to look in disbelief at Uhura and Spock, neither of whom are making noises that could in any way be considered a denial. Uhura and Spock?

“You knew about us,” Uhura states flatly.

Kirk gives her an admonishing frown, like she’s missing an obvious point. “Uhura, please, I know everything.”

Well, yeah, of course he does, Leonard thinks with a sudden odd mix of resentment and ruefulness. Of course Kirk knows about every daughter, sister, lover and any other weakness you think you can hide.

Kirk nods his head towards Spock. “And I also know Spock’s fate if he backs you and you fail.”

“Spock’s not afraid of death and neither am I.” She throws the words at him with like they’re poison-tipped knives.

Kirk just laughs without humor. “Well fuck, Uhura, the Empire doesn’t kill Vulcans. I thought you knew that. They break them. They put them in a room and they torture them and fuck with their minds and use telepaths to strip away their mental controls and then they torture them some more until they’re worse than the savages their ancestors started out as.”

Kirk leans forward, voice relentless. “There’s one kept on display at the Emperor’s private zoo if you want to go see. It lives in a transparent cage, naked, no privacy, ever. They feed it live animals, rats, rabbits. I watched a feeding once. It was…messy. And you know what the worst part is, Uhura? When you catch its gaze long enough, you can still see flickers of a person underneath the madness, something aware underneath it all. That’s the fate that awaits Spock if your little ploy fails and the Empire steps in.”

There’s charged silence in the room as Leonard tries to imagine the cool, logical Spock reduced to an animal, the dignity so inherent in him stripped away. Even though the half Vulcan’s holding a phaser on them—even though Leonard’s never particularly liked the pointy eared bastard—just the thought of it seems like an abomination.

“I am aware of the risks Captain,” Spock finally states as Uhura stays silent before the image Kirk has ruthlessly drawn.

“And you’re willing to face those risks for your girlfriend?” Kirk shifts his attention to his first officer and grins, lop-sided. “Spock, you romantic Vulcan, you.”

“He tried to talk me out of moving against you now,” Uhura says sharply and Leonard gets the odd notion that she’s trying to draw Kirk’s attention back to her, trying to protect Spock. “But it was too good an opportunity to pass up. Even if I did have to make do with a lesser tool.” She doesn’t waste a single icy glare for poor, doomed Angela who still lies unconscious on a biobed.

“Doesn’t matter.” Kirk shrugs again and Leonard watches him with worried eyes because, goddammit this can’t go on for much longer. Kirk might sometimes seem superhuman but he’s still just a goddamn man underneath it all; mortal, as he’d shown on the operating table when his heart had stopped beating three separate fucking times.

"Anyhow,” Kirk tilts his head in inquiry, “leaving yours and Spock’s star crossed epic romance aside, the question comes back to—what happens after you kill me? Putting aside the shit storm that goes into motion when word of my death gets back to earth—because there’s no way this is going to go over as an accident now—there’s everyone you have to deal with just on this ship. There’s Sulu, who’s ambitious as hell and fucking dangerous in his own right and his family’s old San Franciscan so he’s got connections of his own.”

“I can deal with Sulu and his family.” Uhura looks unconcerned but Leonard thinks he can detect the smallest cracks in her icy composure.

“…Then there’s Scotty,” Kirk continues on smoothly. “Man’s a genius, but a little…erratic sometimes. If he doesn’t like you all kinds of bad shit happens. He does like me since I helped him out of a jam once and, hey, I give him cool things to play with.”

“I’ve got plans for Scotty,” she practically snarls and Leonard watches in fascination and not a little trepidation as the cracks in her composure spread.

“…Then there are the spies and traps I’ve got on board.” Kirk reaches up to scratch his head like he’s pondering his own question. “Of course, you could kill half your officers just to make sure they don’t come against you but…damn, that would kind of hurt your chances the next time the Enterprise goes on a mission that requires any kind of actual competence and…”

“Shut. Up.” Uhura’s icy mask of confidence falls away but Leonard’s not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing seeing as how pissed off rage has risen to take its place. She’s starting to get the same look his ex-wife had that one time…right before she tried to gut him with a barbeque fork.

Kirk just shrugs, unconcerned. “Fine, I’m almost done. Just got one more question and then you can shoot me.” He leans forward again, blue eyes fierce. “Why settle for an uncertain tenure as Captain of the Enterprise when you can have so much more?”

Whatever she’s been expecting Kirk to say, this clearly isn’t it because Uhura blinks and then her dark eyes sharpen as some of her fury drops away. “Explain what you mean by ‘more’,” she orders, skepticism lacing her acid tones.

Kirk’s own eyes are practically glowing now as his voice deepens. “I told you, it’s no accident that you’re here, Uhura. You and Sulu and Chekov and Scotty and everyone else – you’ve all been handpicked. You think I’ve assembled the smartest, most innovative, most connected crew in the Empire by chance? Between us we’ve got connections across the goddamn galaxy. You want to be Captain of the Enterprise? How about Overseer of Quadrant 7? Fuck, we’ll create a new title for you, Linguistics Commander for the entire fucking Terran Empire. You want to increase your family’s power? You want to smooth the path for your sisters? I’m far more valuable to you alive than dead. We all are.” His hand rises suddenly and his phaser is pointing at her, rock steady, but Uhura doesn’t even glance at it, mesmerized by the sheer willpower being directed at her.

“Together we’re going to rule the fucking galaxy. No games, no power plays, no backstabbing. It’s ours for the taking.”

Uhura is silent and Leonard can practically see her steel trap brain analyzing the options even as he deals with the jolting impact of Kirk’s words to his own psyche. Because with the way this night's been going, his sanity's feeling more goddamn fragile by the goddamn minute.

“I just tried to kill you,” she says finally, a flicker of regret shading her voice. “Even if what you say is true you’re not going to let it go. You’ll never be able to trust me.”

Kirk laughs, sounding genuinely amused, as he gives a little ‘bygones’ gesture. “Uhura, I have never trusted you. I will never trust you. But I admire you and your big scary brain and your big shiny metaphorical balls of titanium and, c’mon, if I can’t get past a little thing like attempted murder, I don’t deserve to take over the Terran Fleet.”

Kirk lowers his phaser suddenly, dropping it to the side of the bed.

"You’re not the only with plans, Lieutenant. Now choose.”

He waits, calmly meeting Uhura’s searching glare until, finally, slowly, her phaser lowers and she nods.

Kirk nods back and Leonard doesn’t realize that it’s not meant for Uhura until Spock drops his own phaser and reaches out, laying a hand on the side of Uhura’s delicate neck. She looks back, serious, the start of a smile on her face, before her eyes widen and she crumples, unconscious, into Spock’s arms.

“And you’re not the only one I make my plans with,” Kirk finishes softly. He looks up at Spock. “Take her to detention.”

The half Vulcan, who is looking down at Uhura with some unreadable emotion flickering across his face—remarkable for the fact that it is an emotion—looks up sharply at Kirk’s words. “Captain, need I remind you, our agreement includes a guarantee that Lieutenant Uhura not be harmed.”

Kirk rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to touch a hair on her gorgeous head. She just needs to know she wasn’t the one holding the cards here. We’ll have another chat tomorrow. Our deal remains and I wasn’t kidding about her future as Grand Fucking Poobah of Linguistics or whatever the hell she wants to be.”

Leonard watches Spock studying Kirk, the alien qualities of his features dominating his human side in the muted shadows of the room, making him appear almost demonic, until finally he nods and rises up smoothly to carry Uhura out of the room.

“And send security up here!” Kirk calls after the disappearing figure.

As soon as Spock disappears, Kirk slumps back on the table, with a low curse. “Fucking Galkans and their fucking timing. Two more weeks and this wouldn’t have happened. I’d have already brought Uhura into the fold.”

There are a whole mess of questions swirling around in Leonard’s head right now, not to mention the heart attack his body is trying to have in reaction to narrowly avoiding death, because he’s not quite as blasé about assassination attempts as Kirk is. But he pushes it all aside for more immediate concerns as he grabs a tricorder and starts scanning. “Well, that’s fucking great,” he mutters, scowling down at the readings. “You’re bleeding internally again. Lights at full,” he barks and the room immediately brightens in response. “You don’t watch yourself you’re going to undo all of my brilliant work.”

“Sorry I couldn’t time the mutiny better,” Kirk mutters, eyes fluttering closed and Leonard just shakes his head, relaxing as he sees that the new damage done is minimal.

“How’d you know Spock wouldn’t support Uhura at the end?” Leonard asks as he grabs supplies and starts tending to Kirk.

“He knows I’m the best shot he has as an advocate for his planet. He wants Vulcan to have more self government,” Kirk mutters, eyes a gleam of blue behind heavy lids. “Y’know, he actually has feelings for her. That cold blooded, logical son of a bitch is fucking gone over her. Uhura’s probably just using him though...not sure yet, she’s a hard one to read.” Kirk’s voice starts to slur as he speculates, adrenaline crashing as his injuries reassert their toll.

Leonard snorts. “It’s gonna be interesting to watch them work out their little lovers’ spat once she wakes up. She doesn’t seem like the forgiving sort.” He sets about patching up the damage Kirk’s late night adventure has done to his work and thinks about the unlikely pair. Uhura and Spock. That’s gonna take some getting used to.

He looks down at Kirk with his best skeptical glare which is wasted since the other man’s barely focusing. “So you’re going to be Emperor, huh?”

“Nah,” Kirk’s eyes are glazing over and Leonard figures he has about a minute left before unconsciousness claims him, although this is Kirk, who never does what’s expected so…

“Don’t wanna be Emperor. Not secure ‘nuff. C’ntrol the fleet, emper’ll come t’heel. Whoever c’trols th’fleet c’trols…” Kirk’s voice trails into silence, his ferocious will finally relaxing as the immediate crisis passes.

Leonard looks down at the man's unconscious face that’s familiar and unpredictable; that masks a spirit that seems to blaze too bright to be contained by mortal considerations and words like ‘impossible’. A man who can spend years tormenting Leonard for fun, threatening him for entertainment, and then jump in front of goddamn death for him without hesitation.

And it sinks in as he stares down at Kirk—at this dangerous, brilliant, ruthless man who keeps twisting him into knots over and over—that this man is going to rule the fucking galaxy one day. It’s a surprise that’s somehow not a surprise at all, because, well of course he fucking is.

The real surprise, as Leonard watches Kirk’s chest rise and fall in restless sleep, is the idea that maybe, just maybe, that’s not a bad thing.

END

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Interesting! Don't know if people have seen this...I think he'll make an interesting Jack Ryan. And, wow, has Star Trek been good for his career :) Pine Beaming Up Jack Ryan Role?

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Interesting! Don't know if people have seen this...

I think he'll make an interesting Jack Ryan. And, wow, has Star Trek been good for his career :)

Pine Beaming Up Jack Ryan Role?