Title: Win or Lose (4/5)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Characters: Kirk, Spock, McCoy
Summary: To salvage a friendship, Jim decides on a course of action that he fears may backfire in an unfortunate way.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3
Or read at AO3

Leonard walked into the Ready Room with his arms crossed and a by-now familiar pinched expression on his face. Jim thought the man looked like he was ready to go to war. That was why it seemed reasonable enough to offer McCoy a smile and say, “Glad you could make it, Bones.”

McCoy nodded, first to Jim and then gave a second perfunctory nod to the officer beside Kirk.

Jim could sense Spock pulling away already so he announced in his most obnoxiously cheerful voice and with a clap of his hands, “Great, we’re all here! Now, I’m certain both of you are dying to know why I called you together so suddenly—”

Leonard’s look said he knew the exact nature of the impromptu gathering.

“Captain, is this meeting necessary?”

“Are you interrupting me, Mr. Spock?” Jim asked too pleasantly.

People didn’t think Spock could glower. They were very much wrong about that. Spock could glower better than Bones when he set his mind to it. It was something about those Vulcan eyebrows, Jim decided not for the first time (or, undoubtedly, the last).

“I have had a miserable couple of weeks. You, my friends, are the reason why so we’re going to do something about that here and now.”

Leonard, predictably, threw his hands up in the air. “Jim, it’s not worth it, I told you. Spock’s not gonna talk to me!”

“Captain, Dr. McCoy’s assumption is correct. I cannot, given that the nature of this discussion will not pertain to ‘ship’s business’, address him directly.”

McCoy’s expression showed his distaste. “Talk about being literal-minded. You like driving me insane, don’t you?” the man accused the Vulcan.

Spock did not answer that, merely put his hands behind his back, looked the doctor dead in the eye, and proceeded to give Bones the silent treatment. Jim could have thrown his hands up in the air, too, so frustrated was he.

Instead he said, “Fine, I get it. It took me a while to accept the facts but clearly you hate each other.” Ignoring Leonard’s surprised look, Jim forged ahead with his new game plan.

“Guess what? I cannot—no, let me correct that: I will not have two senior officers on my ship who have so little patience for tolerance. Effective immediately, one of you must transfer.” He waved a hand nonchalantly at them like this was not the most awful thing he had ever said in his career as a captain. “I don’t care who it is. Report the decision to me tomorrow.”

“Jim!” Leonard’s shock was evident for all to hear.

“No, Bones, you’re right. Talking is pointless.” He paused in order to study two of his best officers and more than that—two of his closest friends. “I require an answer, gentlemen—and only an answer. That will be all. Dismissed.”

McCoy stepped forward, clearly bent on protesting Jim’s newfound insanity.

Jim kept his voice implacable. “Dismissed.”

Spock turned on his heel and walked out of the Ready Room like a woodwork doll Jim had sent marching away with the turn of a key. After giving Jim one last, uncertain look, Leonard followed Spock, leaving Jim alone in stiff silence.

A shaky laugh burbled out of Jim’s throat and he wobbled on his legs, catching himself on the edge of a side table in the nick of time before he keeled over. By anyone’s standards, this bluff might be a bit much. Jim simply couldn’t think of any other way to force Spock and McCoy to talk.

And talk he hoped they did—if only to think up a way to outmaneuver him.

Jim took one deep breath, ran a hand over his face, and straightened his stance. Then he too returned to duty. Spock was not on the Bridge when Jim took a seat in the Captain’s chair, and the Vulcan was not present for the remainder of the shift. Jim asked no one where he was.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Leonard muttered to himself. He automatically took a right at the fork in the corridor without thinking about it. In truth, he couldn’t think of anything except Jim’s sudden decision to boot one of them off the ship. What the hell had happened to Jim between yesterday’s heart-to-heart and today’s cold declaration?

Two burly engineers come out of a side corridor, carrying some kind of heavy plexi-glass between them. If Leonard hadn’t been so immersed in his thoughts, he would have read their body language and known they were about to make a wide turn; but he didn’t notice they were even there until he was almost upon them.

“Watch out!” cried one of the engineers with alarm as the three men collided and his gloved hands lost their grip on one end of the sheet of translucent material. Leonard had been knocked aside, to the floor, but not far enough out of range; in the split second while the glass tilted in his direction, Leonard knew with awful certainty and a paralyzing kind of fear what was going to happen: the glass would land on his legs. The material wouldn’t break, as thick and heavy as it was, but it would snap one or both of his femurs. Crush a kneecap into tiny shards of bone.

He would never walk without pain again, no matter the surgery or rehabilitation. As a doctor, the outcome in that moment was crystal-clear.

Then someone simultaneously yanked at Leonard’s tunic and wrenched his left arm nearly out of its socket, partly lifting his body up and hauling him backwards like he was made of air. The plexi-glass hit the floor with a dull thud, missing the toes of Leonard’s boots by less than two inches.

Unprepared to have been put so suddenly on his feet, Leonard’s knees buckled. His savior’s arm caught him around the middle and prevented him from falling into an embarrassing heap.

Struck dumb, Leonard blinked up at Spock and said hoarsely, “Jesus.”

“Dr. McCoy!” An engineer leapt over a corner of the glass, face a very contrasting white to his natural tan. “Are you hurt?”

Leonard straightened and Spock’s arm fell away. “No,” he said, taking consecutively deep breaths to stave off an onset of shock. “No, I’m a’right. I—” He turned to Spock to thank him but the words dried up in his mouth at the aura of fury surrounding the Vulcan.

“Mr. Harris and Mr. Igraine,” the First Officer identified the other men, his words falling like precisely dropped stones in a pond, thereby causing rippling shivers of fear in the recipients of his ire, “do you realize what might have transpired here had I not been within reach to assist Dr. McCoy? Your carelessness would have led to his severe injury.”

If possible, the first engineer paled further, his partner joining him at his side and also looking sick to his stomach.

Not stones, but ice… and just as callous, Leonard corrected himself as he too almost shivered at the First Officer’s tone. Worse than any falling glass. Spock was scaring the bejesus out of these young men.

Inexplicably, a calm settled over Leonard.

“Commander Spock,” he said formally, “if anyone is to blame for this accident, it is me. I was not paying attention to where I was going. The fault is purely mine, so I ask that you give proper reprimand where reprimand is due.” He drew in a silent breath. “‘N I’d like to thank you for saving me.”

Some of the hostility faded from Spock’s eyes as he considered McCoy and, in turn, McCoy’s words. “Your legs would have been broken.”

“Yes,” Leonard agreed, “and again, that’d be nobody’s fault but mine if it had happened.” After a momentary pause, he added in a simple, quiet undertone, “Spock” as Jim would have done.

Spock returned his attention to the two wide-eyed (and very teary-eyed) engineers. “Gentlemen, please accept my apology for my error of designating blame. The words I entreated you with were unjust and unwarranted. If you wish to file a complaint, I will not contest it.”

Both engineers reddened—no doubt palpitating by the mere thought of filing a complaint against Mr. Spock—and made hasty apologies of their own, in lieu of accepting Spock’s. Leonard thought they were close to bowing in their enthusiasm to be released from the Vulcan’s attention. After another round of apologies (which Spock assured the two men was unnecessary), the engineers grappled with the plexi-glass and hefted it upright. They set a pace down the corridor that wasn’t as quick as they would have apparently liked it to be, but their movements were exceedingly careful and overly paranoid. They belllowed warnings so every passer-by in a twenty-foot radius would steer clear of them as if they carried a plague.

Leonard watched the men go with a shake of his head. “Poor fellas will probably hide under their bedcovers and pray this incident was a bad dream. I’ll file the report myself.”

“Doctor,” the First Officer said, an odd note in his voice, “I request at this time that you accompany me.”

Leonard could have said no, could have railed against that, but he knew such behavior was part of the problem between them. Thus he went with Spock, hoping his day wasn’t about to get worse.

Spock offered to make him tea. Bemused by the hospitality, Leonard agreed that would be welcome. Then he sat at the round table in Spock’s quarters, the furniture identical to the one in Jim’s living area, and clasped his hands in front of him, watching the Vulcan’s movements across the room.

The conversation was opened surprisingly by Spock himself as he set a steaming cup of mint tea before Leonard. “I do not like what almost happened today.”

Leonard’s eyebrows rose of their own accord. “Well, I’m not fond of the notion of my person being confined to a wheelchair either.”

“That is not what I meant, Doctor—though I will concede such a thought is unfortunate.”

“How kind of you,” Leonard murmured against the side of his cup as he waited for the liquid to cool enough that he could take a sip of it. “So, what’s disturbin’ you?”

Spock stared unblinkingly at Leonard until, at length, he explained, “When Captain Kirk gave the order for one of us to transfer from the ship, I nearly agreed with him… and said it must be you who leaves.”

Leonard was certain he flinched. He put down his cup with care, recognizing his immediate response not as anger but as something akin to despair. He met Spock’s eyes. “Things’ve gotten bad, then.”

“Yes.” The Vulcan shifted suddenly, turning away. “Are you angry?”

“No.” But looking at Spock’s tense back, Leonard didn’t think his answer was good enough. It took him several seconds to piece together what he wanted to say. “I’m not angry that you feel that way, Spock. I’m… disappointed? Hurt, too, if I’m to be honest with myself.” He paused. “But more importantly, I think I understand. It would be a simple solution to a complex problem if one of us leaves.”

“The thought was selfish of me, Doctor.” With that remark, Spock paced slowly over to his computer desk and studied the top of the console. “It is not true that I or you have more right to be here than the other.”

Leonard’s mouth flattened into a grim line as he remembered precisely why they needed to have this conversation. “Thank you for sayin’ that.” If Spock glanced at McCoy, Leonard was too busy fussing agitatedly with the handle of his cup to notice. “Jim has some nerve!”

“The Captain is not himself.”

“Damn straight he isn’t! Maybe I ought to record in my medical log he needs his head examined—see how he likes that demand!”

“You would, of course, require evidence to force the Captain to acquiesce to an evaluation. It is most unfortunate our erratic behavior lends credence to the belief that his order is a reasonable one.”

“Reasonable, my ass! He’s asking us to pick between ourselves who forfeits the best years of his career and who doesn’t!”

“As I previously stated, the Captain is not himself.”

Leonard deflated at Spock’s unperturbed tone. “Yeah, that’s true. Jim’s upset and rightly so. We haven’t given him an easy time of it.”

“Fascinating,” the Vulcan murmured. “You defy Jim in one breath, yet defend him in the next.”

That eased Leonard’s mind more than anything else could have. He gave Spock a lopsided grin. “Oh, to be human is to be contrary, Mr. Spock. I thought you knew that by now.”

“Indeed, I am aware of it.”

For a brief second, Leonard thought he saw a flash of the old Spock in those dark eyes—an amused Spock, the Spock who did not consider Leonard’s every word to be a threat.

Spock stiffened noticeably then, perhaps seeing a similar affection in Leonard’s face, and that old friend in his eyes retreated.

Leonard resisted the urge to yell at him you can’t just switch it off, you cold-blooded Vulcan! He caught the words in his head and shoved them down and away. They would be of no help. Instead, he tried speaking a language Spock could respond to: that of reason.

“Do you trust Jim?”

Spock’s answer held no hesitancy. “Affirmative.”

“‘Course you do,” Leonard said easily. “Me, too. Jim’s the kind of man that even if we didn’t need faith in him to see us safely through this five-year mission, we would want to place our trust in him anyway. And he’s proven more than once he is capable of honoring that trust.”

Spock inclined his head in agreement then turned his face away.

“So Jim’s been right about a lot of things, and we trust him. Maybe then the sensible course of action here would be letting him help us work through our problems, just like his instincts have been pushing him to do since the beginning.”

With the Vulcan’s head bent over the computer console and his face obscured, Leonard could tell even less than he usually was able to about what Spock was thinking.

“There is irony in your statement, Doctor.”

Leonard looked ruefully down at his folded hands. “I know. The one thing I haven’t done in a while is act sensibly.”

“Nor have I.” The admission was soft but sincere.

There could be hope for him and Spock after all. “Look, Spock,” he said with heartfelt honesty, “if there’s any way we can get back to some semblance of the middle ground we used to have, I would be more than okay with that. I’d be glad.”

But Spock did not reply, and once again Leonard was left wondering if he had made a mistake in assuming the Vulcan might want their reconciliation as much as he now realized he did. Sighing through his nose, Leonard drank his tea, leaving each of them alone with their thoughts.

Exciting news! I am working on a Valentine’s Day story for my readers – and it’s a sequel of sorts to The Holiday Waywards! Ah, the muse… she can be so whimsical. :)

Next Part

Related Posts:

• Win or Lose (5/5) – from February 12, 2013
• Win or Lose (2/?) – from February 5, 2013
• Win or Lose (1/?) – from February 5, 2013