Title: For the Sake of Nothing, Part 5
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: pre-Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: Spock is not particularly enamored of his new employee, not at first. Jim is on cloud nine.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Sorry this is late. Spock was elusive until this morning, whereupon he began a detailed one-sided conversation in my head while I made coffee. Still half-asleep and unprepared, I had to tell him, “yes, yes, I get it, you’re ready now but you’re gonna have to wait until I am at a computer, mister!”

(On another note Jim, sadly, never shuts up. He’s been telling me stories all weekend. You’ll find one of them in this chapter.)

From Leonard’s previous vantage point, the coffee shop always seemed busy. But then again, he had only visited as a paying customer during the most common parts of the day when people realized they needed caffeine or they would most likely become non-functional human beings. It turned out, as he perched on a stool in the kitchen, that even a prosperous business like this one had its slow hours. He could hear Jim whistling to himself as he did something or other to keep occupied until customers wandered back inside with the afternoon rush. Spock had come through the door that separated kitchen from store-front about twenty minutes ago and made a beeline for a cramped-looking office off to one side, which Leonard suspected had once been a utility closet. The owner had not acknowledged his new employee as he walked past and Leonard, at the time, had been grateful for the lack of scrutiny.

Now he was a little steadier (maybe thanks to that sandwich Jim had shoved into his hands) and for some unknown reason he had decided he didn’t want to be ignored until the moment Spock found a legitimate excuse Jim couldn’t argue with to fire him. Never mind that Jim had had a workaround argument for the ten different ways Spock politely insinuated I am not happy with this arrangement, are you insane? Apparently somebody wore the pants in Jim and Spock’s relationship and it wasn’t the person who paid the electric bill. Leonard found that amusing, actually.

Amusing, too, had been Spock’s expression when he initially discovered Jim and Leonard arguing over the difference between “shit coffee” and “shit coffee with a hefty price tag” in between Jim filling seven o’clock orders. Leonard discovered a blend hidden in the back of a cabinet that wasn’t on the menu, asked about it, and Jim had said he would rather sell un-ground beans out of a flour sack than bad coffee. Leonard pointed out that they might as well shove customers into the street with a boot and a rude middle finger. The business had to make money. Unsold product was wasted expense if left to rot. Besides, people liked brand names, and why was Jim being so stubborn when it wasn’t even his damned shop?

Then, of course, Leonard had spied Spock standing off to the side, immediately fumbled in his self-appointed task as money collector and pressed the wrong key on the register, causing it to squeal like a wounded pig, then knocked over the tea stand in his attempt to fix the register (while snarling at it for going haywire in his most vulnerable moment), and thus made possibly the worst first impression as a competent employee. Spock had approached the counter so stiffly he moved like a robot.

Jim lifted a stalling hand before either Spock or McCoy could utter a word and had said to Spock, “Gotta finish this order then I’ll explain. Bones, can you hand me a to-go cup? The largest size, please.”

Which left Leonard and Spock eyeing each other over a time-bomb of a register. Spock reached out and pressed the Esc button. The register hiccupped and returned to normal. Then as the owner had come around the counter Leonard had had sense enough to relinquish his spot without a fuss.

The rest had been about as pleasant as an ant-bite because Spock ushered out the remaining customers, shut and locked the entrance much to the confusion of the general public, who stood around looking on with uncomprehending faces (and in some cases despair) from the other side of the glass door, and asked Jim very coolly to explain what the hell was going on in words as stiff as his back. It took fifteen minutes of Jim blathering on about kinship and poor migrant workers and things that made no sense whatsoever in relation to McCoy until Spock gave up. Or, at least (Leonard thought) until Spock decided delaying his business wasn’t worth the trouble of one man.

Things had kind of evolved into a stalemate from there, wherein Leonard hung around and did odd jobs (and was he going to get paid for this? he hoped so), Jim pretended Spock wasn’t royally pissed, and Spock pretended McCoy did not exist.

Leonard took a last sip of his orange juice (Jim had given him a big glass of that too, and Leonard was beginning to think he had become some sort of new pet project for the kid), set it aside, and stood up. While it was easy to cross the short distance to Spock’s office, Leonard hovered at the partially open door. After reminding himself that he had every right to speak his mind, Leonard knocked softly.

For a heartbeat there was silence, perhaps born of indecision or surprise (not that Leonard could be certain of either), before Spock said, “Come in.”

Leonard slipped into the office—and immediately confirmed his belief that this was a closet. Since there was a single chair wedged awkwardly in the corner between the desk and wall, Leonard had to navigate through a narrow space, almost climbing over some items, to get to it. Spock was undoubtedly amused as Leonard knocked in his limbs into boxes and assorted junk and sort of tumbled into the chair after stubbing his toe on a tool box.

“Well,” McCoy said once he had finally made it, “looks like this is going to be one long visit.”

Spock lifted an eyebrow.

“I don’t think I can get back out,” he explained dryly.

“The space is not ideal for two people,” Spock agreed. After a pause he asked, “Is there something you require, Mr. McCoy?”

Leonard tucked his elbows into his sides to keep from making contact with a tall metal rack overflowing with supplies, because contact would inevitable cause things to fall onto his head. “I thought we ought to talk. About my employment, I mean.”

Spock folded his hands on his desk, an indication that they were speaking as professionals. “You are correct, of course. Jim’s offer was informal and, I hope you understand, not the normal method I employ when seeking to hire an individual. I do require a background check—”

Leonard nodded. Typical protocol to get hired anywhere.

“—and a job reference.”

He couldn’t help grimacing. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Spock’s expression did not change. “This is not a negotiation.”

Leonard slumped a little into his chair. “I know that, Spock—I mean, sir.”

Something flickered through Spock’s eyes. “…I would prefer you address me by my given name.”

Leonard continued, “I don’t want to lie to you, sir, um, Spock. I don’t have a stellar resume. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time I wrote one. I’m…” He forced himself to sound calm. “…just looking for a way to meet my rent. I can promise you I won’t steal from you, I won’t be late unless I have a damned good reason, and—” He hesitated before finishing softly, “—I’ll try my best not to cause any undue turmoil in the workplace.”

Spock stared at him for a long minute, as if weighing Leonard’s sincere tone against the turmoil already in progress simply because Leonard was present in the establishment. Then he reached for a manila folder and flipped it open, extracting three sheets. “Please fill out this application. You may take it with you and return it tomorrow.” He stapled the sheets together and handed them to Leonard.

Leonard’s hand didn’t quite shake when he accepted the application. He felt like he had just passed a terrifying exam and not even known how terrifying it was until after he laid down his pencil. “Thanks,” he said. “Really, Spock, thank you. I know I haven’t given you a lot of reason to trust me.”

“None,” Spock inserted.

“Yeah,” Leonard agreed, swallowing hard.

Spock glanced away. “Jim trusts you, however. I can remain patient until I come to trust you as he does.”

Leonard sat back, floored. “You mean that.”

Spock met his gaze again, this time with a look of mild interest. “Will such an effort be unrewarded?”

“No, sir—er, Spock!—it’s just, I’m starting to feel a little bad about what I was thinking…” That you would play the douche bag and have me thrown out on my ass.

The tilt of the owner’s head said do continue, as though watching Leonard stick his foot in his mouth was the most fascinating thing in the world.

Leonard flushed under the collar of his shirt. “I meant to say you’re going to give me a chance. I didn’t expect that.”

“‘If we do not learn to deal with our neighbors as they are, not as we wish them to be, we will never know peace.'”

Leonard blinked at that bit of wisdom, mainly because he’d never heard it before.

“My father,” Spock said, “was the unofficial mediator of his homeowners’ association. That is how he responded when I, of a young age, inquired why he felt it necessary to become involved in disputes over property lines and untrimmed hedges when the matter did not concern him directly.”

“Your father sounds like a good man.”

“He was,” Spock said, but in such a way that did not invite further curiosity.

Leonard, understanding what it was like to want to keep some things private, respected that wish. He wrestled himself out of his seat and towards the door. When he banged his kneecap against Spock’s desk, immediately following with his elbow, he loudly told the office to go to hell. Managing to half-trip through the doorway, only to have Spock glide out in his wake having nary stirred a paper or bruised a bone, Leonard found himself blinking into the face of wide-eyed Jim Kirk.

Jim, standing very near to the office door, opened his mouth as if to ask something but quickly thought better of saying anything.

Spock looked at the broom in his employee’s hand and remarked, “I believe you swept this area this morning, Jim.”

Jim leaned against the broom and gave them an innocent look. “I think Bones dropped a bag of sugar on the floor.”

“Indeed?”

Leonard sent Jim a death-glare. It was obvious to any fool Jim had been eavesdropping. “Don’t you have customers to flirt with?”

“Jim,” Spock said smoothly, backing up Leonard’s sarcasm with authority, “please return to the front and resume your regular duties.”

Jim gave them both a sloppy salute and scuttled out of the kitchen, no doubt pleased as punch to have gotten away without a reprimand. Though, at this point, Leonard wasn’t certain if Spock knew what a reprimand was. Either the man had a severe psychosis (like a split personality) or the Spock Leonard had seen freeze unpleasant customers into incoherent ice cubes with a single look was only the mask he wore in public.

This might be more trouble than he anticipated, Leonard thought as he retrieved Jim’s broom and cleaned up the sugar on the floor. (Leonard would bet his first paycheck the sugar container didn’t upend itself onto the floor until Jim got curious about Leonard’s conversation with Spock. That kid was a devil and a half!)

Spock was a likeable guy. In fact, he was very likeable. He wasn’t letting Leonard keep the job because he was afraid of disappointing Jim; it was because he saw potential in Leonard, regardless of their at-war affection for the same person, and kindly wanted to give Leonard a chance to prove that potential.

Which meant Spock was fair-minded too.

I can work for him, Leonard realized. I could enjoy working for him.

The blossom of happiness which followed that realization was something Leonard hadn’t felt in quite a long time.

“Leonard.”

Leonard halted in the motion of moving the broom to and fro, embarrassed that he had failed to realize his boss was still standing there—and that he might have possibly been sweeping sugar onto Spock’s polished shoes. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Wasn’t paying attention.”

Spock was giving him an inscrutable look. “Do you prefer the kitchen?”

“Huh?”

“I cannot help but notice you restrict your activities to this vicinity.”

Leonard shook his head slightly. “Jim’s idea. He doesn’t want me gettin’ fired on my first day for punching a customer. Though, personally, I’m of the opinion a right cross is about the only way to get through to some jackasses.” He realized belatedly he probably shouldn’t have said that to the guy who would be signing his paycheck. Oh god, what an idiot he was!

That inscrutable look did not alter. “You may prove to be as fascinating a hire as Jim Kirk, Mr. McCoy.” Spock stepped out of the puddle of sugar around his shoes. “There will be no person or persons to incite your temper after hours. We will begin your training then.”

Leonard stood stunned for a second. Then he called to Spock’s swiftly retreating back, “I hope you weren’t counting Jim in that! I might punch him!“

Spock said something much too low to be heard properly beneath the sudden noise of the cafe as the kitchen door opened, but Leonard caught the tail end of Spock’s sentence: “…regrettably be an appropriate lesson for Jim.”

Leonard smiled to himself for the next hour, even as he kicked open the door to Spock’s office and determinedly tackled the mess within.

Four days later and finally feeling like he had a regular schedule, Leonard came to work at the coffee shop and was told he had passed training (Leonard wasn’t aware it was a test) and could graduate to bus-boy duties. Spock was, Leonard decided, impressed by his improvement upon the clutter in the office. Two chairs actually fit in there now, though it was still a tight squeeze.

“The great thing about this place is,” Jim was saying (chattering, more like, Leonard thought), “no uniforms. Though one time I showed up in yesterday’s clothes, and Spock really didn’t like that.”

Leonard couldn’t help but wonder, “Why were you in yesterday’s clothes?” Then, at Jim’s mischievous look, he knew he shouldn’t have asked the question.

All Jim said was, “I had a date. It ran over.”

Or you overslept in somebody else’s bed and didn’t have time to go home to change clothes before you had to come in to work. Leonard shook his head and reached into the sink to find another blender part that had become lost below the soapy water.

“Sooo…” Jim began.

Leonard froze. He felt a moment of alarm, suddenly scared Jim was about to pry into something he shouldn’t.

“Are you going to quit your second job?”

The question wasn’t what Leonard expected. He turned from the sink to frown at Jim. “Why do you ask?”

“Duh, Bones! Because then you can work here full-time.” Jim’s expression clearly read Why wouldn’t you want to be here with me all day, every day?

Leonard put his back to Jim again. “This arrangement is working—so far. I don’t want to mess up a good thing.”

Jim was silent for all of five seconds. “You’re really broke, aren’t you?”

He almost snapped defensively “Shut up!” but didn’t. Instead, it was better to say nothing.

A hand dropped to his shoulder. “Bones,” Jim said softly, “I didn’t mean anything by that.”

“I know you didn’t, kid.” That bitterness inside him receded a little. “I’ll try not to be too sensitive about my finances. Everybody’s got money problems. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Something like that.” Jim leaned against the counter next to him. “I didn’t exactly have a problem with money before I came here but I had… employer problems.”

Leonard was interested despite himself.

Jim, seeing the interest, took the attention and ran with it. “Let me tell you a story, Bones: the story of how one awesome James Tiberius Kirk became this humble little shop’s shining star!”

“Oh god,” Leonard said with finality, “I knew I shouldn’t have thrown you a bone. Is it too late to say I’m busy, try again later?”

“Much too late.” Jim gave him an impish smile. “My last job was pretty good until my supervisor decided to get involved in some not-so-legal activities. He was selling store inventory out the back door. One day he sent me on an errand—in a company van packed top to bottom with merchandise. I thought it was a little fishy because the normal delivery runs were only during store hours, but he said he’d had approval from the manager, plus I would get overtime. The customer had to have his order that day, pronto. Now I may be a certified genius—”

“You don’t say,” Leonard interjected in his driest tone.

“—but sometimes even I can be a little dumb.”

“You really don’t say.”

“Hush, Bones, I’m storytelling! Turns out the delivery was out-and-out theft. My supervisor didn’t even bother to doctor the inventory report which the police said he had done many times before, but I guess he realized he couldn’t take that much product and not have somebody notice.”

“So you made the drop, and he cut and ran with his share of the exchange.”

“Actually I took it to the address, some decrepit old warehouse downtown, and didn’t like the looks of the people waiting for me to open up the back of the van. So I kind of… drove away?”

Leonard stared at him. “What are you saying, Jim?”

“That I probably escaped with my life,” Jim finished cheerily. “The good part is I didn’t get arrested for grand theft. The bad part is the dudes at the warehouse saw my face.”

Leonard closed his mouth. “You’re pulling my leg. Next you’ll be telling me you’re part of witness protection.”

“Maybe,” Jim said with a mysterious smile.

“Jim!” Leonard thumped his fist against the sink’s edge in agitation. “I’m not some simpering soccer mom. Get to your point.”

“Bones, man, you are hormonal like a soccer mom.”

Leonard was very, very tempted to flick water in Jim’s face. Then he remembered Spock hadn’t gone home for the night yet.

“Anyway,” Jim continued, “I couldn’t keep my job there, not that I wanted to since the manager thought I had been in collusion with my supervisor and was angry he couldn’t prove it. So I job-hunted around for a while, but nothing came up that didn’t seem like honest work. If it did, the manager told my potential employer I was a cheat and thief and advised them to stay as far away from me as possible.” Jim’s eyes drifted contemplatively across the shop. “I think he was tailing me. Trying to keep me unemployed or to prove a point. The man could hold a grudge, I’ll give him that.”

“Sounds like a real asshole.”

“Yeah.”

“Then everything changed,” Jim said, his face lightening from the memory that had momentarily darkened it. “I stopped in here, had a cup of coffee and a pastry, and forgot my wallet.”

“Come again?”

“I forgot my wallet,” Jim repeated. “Spock was nice enough to let me work for an hour or so to pay off the bill. I guess I looked so pathetic he felt he didn’t need to call the cops. I did a good job, he saw that, and hired me when I asked him for a job. The rest is history.”

Leonard was, unbeknownst to him, dripping dishwater water onto the floor as he absorbed the abrupt, unusual end to the story. So Jim and Spock had been a happenstance…

“That is not quite correct,” interrupted a voice.

Jim’s eyes widened, and he grinned sheepishly at Spock. “Hiya! Should I go count the till? Oh wait, I forgot I can’t count to ten. Maybe Bones should do that.”

“Mr. Kirk is a gambler of sorts,” Spock said to Leonard, ignoring Jim’s suggestion. “It was my misfortune not to realize this until after the fact.”

“Spock, Bones is doing the dishes. He’s busy.”

“Jim,” Spock and Leonard said at the same time. Jim miraculously shut up and began to sidle away.

Leonard folded his arms. “So what really happened?”

“Jim deceived me.”

“He didn’t forget his wallet.”

“Precisely. He had, I believe, hidden his wallet in the men’s restroom after scouting this shop to his satisfaction. Because Jim is observant, I highly doubt he failed to notice the Help Wanted sign on the door before he came in. He then proceeded to eat three pastries, drink two espressos, and consume one cookie. Afterwards, Jim approached me with the convenient explanation that he had no money. I allowed him to pay his debt with chores in lieu of a wage. I shall admit, he sought to impress me and he did. I hired Jim upon his second visit, one day later.” Spock’s mouth twitched. “I feared, if I did not hire him, he might think of other creative ways to place himself into my employ.”

Jim had stopped at the edge of the counter, where he had thoughtfully propped up his head as he listened to Spock’s tale. Now he demanded, “How did you know about the wallet?”

“I found it later that evening.”

Jim straightened with a gasp. “You found my wallet? Why didn’t you give it back! Where is it? Spooock, I had to wait three hours in line at the DMV to get another driver’s license!”

Spock’s voice held a hint of smugness. “Retaining the wallet was just punishment for your crime.”

Leonard nodded. “I agree with Spock. You kept the cash and spent it on a bottle of wine, right?” He grinned at the dark-haired owner. “Finders, keepers and all that.”

Spock’s eyes mirrored Leonard’s amusement. “Jim believes he is wily.”

“I noticed.”

“Then perhaps I should inform you I have acted somewhat duplicitously myself. The motivation behind my lack of protest at your employment, Mr. McCoy, is not born of kindness but of a great need.”

Leonard almost groaned, knowing where this was headed. “I’m a waiter-in-training, not a babysitter.”

“Beggars cannot be choosers, Leonard.”

“I take back every nice thing I said about you. You’re an evil man, Spock.”

“Is that all I am?” Spock’s gaze, for an instance, held Leonard’s.

Suddenly there weren’t proper words to communicate. Leonard couldn’t think to speak. He had a feeling Spock wasn’t bothering with thoughts either.

“Hey,” Jim said from behind them, breaking the moment, “isn’t this great? I knew Spock would like you, Bones!”

Spock slowly, perhaps as slowly as Leonard, refocused on Jim. Then the man blinked and moved away. “I will be in my office. Please inform me when you are ready to leave.”

Once the kitchen door swung closed, a breath shuddered out of Leonard. Unbalanced but not knowing why, he leaned against the sink counter and stuck his hands into the water, then immediately wrenched them back out with a sharp oath. The water was cold.

“…Bones. Bones!”

Leonard turned on the hot water tap, saying, “What is it?”

But Jim did not reply, despite his earnest attempts to grab Leonard’s attention. When Leonard finally glanced over his shoulder, Kirk was standing very still, watching him.

“Jim?”

Whatever pensive thought had taken hold of Jim let him go at the sound of his name. His face cleared but, still silent, he shook his head as a gesture of never mind. Bemused, Leonard returned to scrubbing the blender until it was sparkling clean.

Later, as they were walking out the door together, Jim said rather quietly and without warning, “I think Spock does like you, Bones.”

Leonard lifted his eyebrows, replying carelessly, “Why shouldn’t he?”

Jim gave him a small smile, a “I don’t know” coupled with a half-hearted shrug, and walked away.

Next Part

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