Title: Forget Me Not (1/?)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: When Jim spends time with his First Officer and CMO, he seems sad. Neither Spock nor McCoy can figure out why.
A/N: I give up. I’ll just write my own K/S/M.
Or read at AO3

I made the mistake of thinking I had something I could keep. …That my happiness, and theirs along with mine, could never be taken away.

The man who hopes too much is the fool. It seems this is a lesson I must continue to learn until I hope no more.

Personal Log, James T. Kirk

“Jim!” Leonard McCoy, senior medical officer of the Enterprise, calls as he catches sight of one wayward starship captain. “Hold up a minute!”

The man farther along the corridor comes to a standstill. McCoy slips around a group of crewmen and jogs the last few feet to the man’s side. He notes the tense set of Kirk’s shoulders but that is nothing new.

“Hey,” he says, “you haven’t forgotten our date, have you?” He grins a little to show that the question is partly a jest.

Jim turns to look at him, the humor apparently not catching. “I’m not aware we had an appointment scheduled… Bones.” He voices the nickname after a second of hesitation, as if the word itself might be painful to say.

Leonard rocks back on his heels, confused. “In preparation for the ambassador’s arrival—didn’t you say you wanted to talk to Spock and I about the presentation beforehand?”

“Oh,” the Captain replies.

For a brief moment Jim looks like he wants badly to find an excuse so he can claim he is otherwise occupied, it’s a no-can-do. Leonard reads that easily enough in his face, feeling more baffled by the second and also concerned. Somewhat reluctantly, he offers his commanding officer a way out. “Look, if you’re busy, I think we’ve done this sort of meet-and-greet enough times that—”

“No, no,” Jim assures him with undue haste, “it’s fine, Bones. We can talk about it…”

“In your quarters over dinner?” The words simply pop out of Leonard’s mouth, unbidden.

“…in your office, if that won’t inconvenience you.” Jim swallows and adds, like he is making a concession to an unpleasant idea, “Then I suppose we could go to the cafeteria for dinner.”

Leonard nods, because he doesn’t see why it should make a difference where they gather to talk ship’s business. …Should it? And why had he suggested using the captain’s personal quarters? He has never been there through an invitation from Kirk, much less by rudely inviting himself.

Come to think of it, he never really strays from Sickbay. What a depressing thought that is!

In the meantime, Jim has given a short nod of his own to signify the end to their conversation and is moving along the corridor, albeit with a slightly stiff gait. McCoy watches the man until he disappears around a corner, not quite certain why he should be so disturbed by the lack of friendly feeling between them.

Commander Spock should be the one person Leonard doesn’t want to be friends with, yet to say his entire countenance brightens when the Vulcan walks into the medical bay would be an understatement.

“Spock!” the doctor crows, immediately forgetting what he had intended to do with the tricorder in his hand.

Spock stops short upon seeing the excited Dr. McCoy.

Following a sheepish cough to cover up his enthusiasm, “What brings you by Sickbay?” Leonard asks.

“Doctor, you requested my presence.”

Leonard bounces slightly on the balls of his feet. “I did, didn’t I?” he says cheerfully. Lifting his free hand, he beckons the Vulcan closer. “Well, c’mon then!”

Spock’s approach is unnecessarily slow and cautious. Annoyance flares in Leonard, like it had been just out of sight waiting patiently for such an event to occur. “Hurry up! I don’t bite, you green-blooded…!” The doctor blinks upon hearing himself and shuts up. Was he just going to insult the First Officer of the Enterprise?

Spock’s eyebrows clearly wonder the same thing.

“Never mind,” McCoy says gruffly and turns away, putting the tricorder back on a tray of medical equipment. As he heads through the main area of the bay (where he had been loitering, though CMOs aren’t supposed to loiter when they’re bored) to his office, he catches one of his nurses staring and narrows his eyes at her. She grins back and gives him a thumbs-up. Suddenly frightened by what his staff might be thinking, Leonard picks up his pace and arrives at his destination in record time.

He nearly breaks the door’s close button when he jabs at it on the heels of Spock’s entrance. After a mutter and the input of a code, the door slips shut.

“Do you intend to lock us in or lock someone out?” comes the curious question at his back.

“Somethin’ wrong with the nurses,” Leonard explains vaguely.

“…I see. You are aware the Captain will not be pleased when he arrives and cannot enter.”

“Computer,” Leonard calls, grudgingly realizing that Spock is right, “unlock CMO’s office for entrance of James T. Kirk only.”

The ship’s computer answers easily, For engaged setting override, provide proper voice command.

Leonard opens his mouth, only to close it, bemused.

Spock asks for him, “Computer, what is the engaged setting?”

Engaged setting 2890.

Leonard looks at the keypad in surprise. Had he typed in 2890? But the normal locking code was different! “My god, I’m losing my mind.”

“Computer, please provide detail for setting 2890.”

“Spock…” Leonard tries to intercede.

Setting 2890. Locking mechanism to be disengaged by voice command of one of following personnel: James T. Kirk, Captain; Leonard H. McCoy, Chief Medical Officer; Spock, First Officer and Science Officer. Required voice command… ERROR. Unauthorized data request.

Spock’s eyebrows come down. “Computer, this is Commander Spock.” He gives his security clearance. “What is the required voice command of setting 2890?”

ERROR. Unauthorized data request.

Leonard tries his security clearance, and when that doesn’t work, tries overriding the setting through the keypad. Every code he can think up is denied. “What the heck’s wrong with this thing? Computer, open the door!” He delivers a swift kick to the door to emphasize his point. The kick jars him more than the metal structure.

Spock insinuates himself between the irate doctor and the closed door. “I do not believe such abuse will affect the outcome of our situation.”

“But we’re locked in!”

“Affirmative.”

Spock’s calm reply makes Leonard realize just how badly he screwed up. “Spock… I locked us in.” He feels the blood drain out of his head.

In the next instant, he is being steered to a chair. “Sit,” the Vulcan orders.

Leonard sits.

Once Leonard doesn’t keel over and looks more alert, Spock clasps his hands behind his back. “Why did you use that particular code to lock your door, Doctor?”

“I didn’t even know I did! ” His only guess is a lame one. “…Out of habit, maybe?”

“Yet you do not know the voice command to disengage it.”

“No,” Leonard answers miserably.

“Fascinating.”

He boggles at the Vulcan. “Spock, what’s the matter with you?” Anger creeps into Leonard’s voice. “We’re locked in a space no bigger than a storage closet for god’s sake, and all you can say is fascinating!”

Spock regards him for a long minute. Leonard feels his blood pressure rising under that frank scrutiny, until at last it dawns on him why Spock isn’t panicking. “Oh, Jim’s on his way.”

“Precisely. Whether or not the Captain knows the voice command, he has the highest security clearance aboard this vessel.”

Leonard pulls at his bottom lip in thought. “So what happens if he can’t get in?”

“I fear I may have to alter the control panel.”

Leonard glances up at Spock, feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “You mean you’ll get to impress me by showing off your brains and your brawn.”

“That is an illogical assumption.”

McCoy thinks that tone of voice is the equivalent of a smile from Spock. He doesn’t know why—given he isn’t closer to the Vulcan than an acquaintance and fellow commanding officer would be—but he does. Absently, he rubs at his forehead where a faint pain resonates before disappearing.

Spock moves away as he speaks. “May I ask why you wished to see me in advance of our appointment?”

I just wanted to see you. He would be embarrassed if he says that so he tries instead, “I thought maybe we could… talk a little bit.”

“Concerning what matter?”

What could they talk about that can’t be addressed at any other time? Do they interact if that interaction isn’t related to ship’s business? McCoy doesn’t think so, though for some bizarre reason he wants to the answer to be yes.

“Jim,” he says on instinct, which afterward seems like a valid concern. As First Officer, the captain is a number-one priority for Spock.

It’s evident he has piqued the Vulcan’s interest when Spock returns to stand before him, gaze intent. “Please explain.”

“I’d ask if he seems funny to you, but I’m beginning to think I’m the one who’s gone funny.” He points at his temple to emphasize what kind of funny he really means. “He acts like, like we’re not friends, but I guess,” Leonard finishes softly, “we aren’t. I mean, have we ever been?” That final question comes out sounding hopeful. Watching Spock, Leonard realizes an answer from Spock is likely beyond what the Vulcan can do. McCoy’s shoulders slump of their own accord.

Spock surprises him. “You feel as though there is a missing component to your relationship with the Captain.”

“Yes!” Then, after scrutinizing the person in front of him, Leonard suspects the unspoken meaning behind that remark. “You act like you know exactly what I am talking about.”

Spock looks away as he replies. “Perhaps I understand something of the sensation, Doctor.”

Meaning Spock is hesitant to give him a full answer. Well, no matter. A certainty takes a hold of Leonard; he can pester the Vulcan into talking. Spock will tell him everything, and Leonard will stand up and slide his hand along the Vulcan’s arm until their fingers…

Shocked by the audacity of his thoughts, Leonard recoils in his chair.

“Dr. McCoy?” Spock questions, a hint of concern in his normally controlled baritone.

Leonard begins to lift his gaze to Spock’s, knowing nothing is hidden in his eyes but also knowing Spock would not judge him as another might…

…when the office door slides open, and a man steps out of the hallway light into the room.

“Jim?” The name falls like a weighted stone into the softness of the moment, destroying it.

Something flickers across Kirk’s features when he looks between them. Then that something is gone, leaving only the flat question: “Is there a reason you locked me out, Dr. McCoy?”

Spock shifts, drawing Jim’s attention. “Captain, how did you disengage the lock?”

“With the—” Jim starts to say, only to stop. “My clearance,” he answers shortly, dismissively, circling where they are in front of McCoy’s desk to find his own chair.

Leonard and Spock exchange a quick glance once Kirk’s back is turned.

Jim just lied, that much is obvious to them. But why?

“Let’s keep this meeting brief, gentlemen,” the Captain informs his two senior officers as he takes a seat along the wall. “I am needed elsewhere.”

Leonard finds himself nodding, getting up from his chair to circle his desk and pull up the report on their newest diplomatic mission. He does not have the heart to argue when he is so confused himself.

The delegation represents a race of nomadic space colonists called the K’lthery originating from a small sector of the Alpha quadrant where their home planet was long ago absorbed by a sun. They seem like a genteel people, trading in small homemade wares when they pass through a space port that some art dealers resale for a high-end profit to avid collectors. This is not their first contact with the Federation. But since they have so little interest in intergalactic politics, the K’lthery treat the Federation like a third cousin to be visited once in a while for posterity’s sake. The Federation operates on the policy that no show of good will, however superfluous, should be ignored so the visits are always welcomed.

And just like the distant relative with something to prove, Leonard thinks with wry amusement, the Federation sends out its flagship to greet the K’lthery, banners proudly waving.

If he didn’t have to sit through this formal dinner looking like he was glad to be here, he would happily hide in a medical lab somewhere. The K’lthery are not intimidating physically, as they are quite small, but they do give off an unsettling vibe that makes Leonard feel uncomfortable in his own skin.

Maybe it’s because they are all female.

He’s not quite certain how that works for their race, but apparently it does and has for a long time. He suspects that biologically ‘female’ is not what they actually are, though they assure the Federation this terminology is the easiest way to describe their reproductive process. They quite literally give birth to themselves. When the new body takes its first breath, the old body takes its last. There is, researchers have been told, a transfer of consciousness, of the essence that makes each of them unique.

Which makes Leonard wonder exactly how old these people are if they have been continuously re-birthing themselves as the next generation.

The smallest K’lthery is the ambassador. Her skin has the typical paper-thin, translucent blue sheen of her race. What sets her apart besides her tiny size is the color of her eyes. They are a warm gold, whereas the others have silver or startlingly white irises. In Leonard’s opinion, the skin color and eyes combined with the wing-like appendages that serve as her arms make the ambassador look like a sprite or fairy from a child’s storybook.

Currently, the ambassador is focused on Jim. No doubt, she finds him as charming as females typically do. Leonard makes a hmph under his breath and pokes at his food.

“We have looked forward to this meeting for many days, Captain.”

“You honor us, Ambassador Kee.”

Leonard smirks at the memory of Jim trying to pronounce her full name and shoves something leafy into his mouth so he doesn’t laugh out loud. During the initial greeting ceremony, she had giggled, a cute tinkling sound, and suggested the shorted name to save Jim further embarrassment.

“We are the honored ones,” demurs Kee.

Jim gives Kee and her entourage his best boyish grin.

Flirt, Leonard accuses in his head.

One of the other K’lthery lean in to say something to the ambassador. Kee nods and addresses Jim afterwards with some intense emotion glowing in her round face. “We have heard of your great partnership. It is why we agreed to meet you before the movement of our colony. Tell us of this, Captain.”

“Partnership?” Kirk repeats, his expression suddenly less easy.

“Yes. It is common knowledge among my people, for we take great joy in the joy of others. “

Jim’s face grows paler in the room’s bright lighting.

The ambassador does not seem to notice as she swivels her head to peer at the Vulcan seated to Jim’s right, then to McCoy who is on the other side of Spock. “These are your life partners?” Like a bird’s, her head makes sharp movements of curiosity upon her small neck. “Well met, younglings.”

Kee’s tone is too somber to be mistaken as joking.

Leonard chokes on his mouthful of salad and has to spit it into his napkin before he inhales it into his lungs. “Excuse me?” He doesn’t know which part he should be protesting—the assumption he’s married to Kirk or the suggestion that by comparison he is a toddler to the ambassador and her people—but he ought to have a bone or two to pick about something! “Watch who you’re callin’ young!” Leonard settles on.

“Dr. McCoy, I believe Ambassador Kee meant no insult.”

At Spock’s placating tone, the Chief Engineer suddenly bends over his food like he is very interested in the arrangement of lettuce on his plate. Leonard would throw a fork at the man if his aim wasn’t so poor he’d probably end up clocking the Chief of Security on the head instead. Then Jim would stick him in the brig overnight for ruining a diplomatic dinner. There’s only one other option available.

Lifting his eating utensil with a menacing air, Leonard waves it under Spock’s nose. “I’m sure she didn’t. Just the same, I’m a grown man by my people’s standards, and I expect some due courtesy.”

Spock’s eyebrow lifts as if to say, amused, Is this a problem with them or me?

“Hm. I apologize for any offense given to your healer-doctor,” Kee replies serenely to Kirk at the head of the table.

The apology falls on deaf ears because Leonard is distracted by an unexpected rush of affection for Spock. He finds it difficult to tear his eyes away from the Vulcan’s, despite the flush creeping up his neck and the awkward silence blooming on the other side of the table.

Then Jim says, “Bones” not sharp or reprimanding but nearly as strangled as the words caught in McCoy’s throat, and the spell breaks. Leonard apologizes to his dinner companions, blinking vaguely as his thoughts become less fuzzy, and sits back in his chair, gaze fixed resolutely on the glass of water near his left hand. Eventually and without any real reason, he has to glance down at his ring finger. It held the weight of a simple gold band until he was in his mid-thirties. That weight seems to be present now. Why it’s haunting him, he does not know.

Spock is very adept at politely steering a conversation into neutral territory. Maybe it is because the Vulcan’s father is an ambassador and Spock was taught something of the trade before he entered Starfleet. But whatever the reason for Spock’s skill, Leonard is grateful to have him at the table in that moment.

He finally stops contemplating his left hand and sneaks a glance Jim’s way to gage the man’s mood. Kirk too looks grateful for Spock, until his eyes seek and hold McCoy’s. Then Leonard realizes (a realization that dries up the words in his mouth) Jim is not simply grateful when looking at Spock—he is heartbroken.

Silence seems the best choice for rest of the evening. When the meal is over, Leonard is not the only person anxious to get out of the stifling room. As he hurriedly comes abreast of the deck’s turbolift, tugging at the collar of his formal dress tunic, Scotty is nearly on his heels.

“You all right there, Doctor?” the Chief Engineer asks him as they step into the lift and it begins its descent into the ship. As if he knows why Leonard is silent, he remarks kindly, “Donnae worry about the Capt’n. He’s made a scene or two in front of an honored guest himself.”

Leonard cannot help but snort. “Yes, he has. Thanks, Scotty, but—” He sighs deeply through his nose. “—it’s not Jim I’m worried about.” Liar, a voice in his head retorts.

“…Oh.” The engineer does look genuinely concerned. “Then was it about what that ambassador said?”

Leonard frowns at the man next to him. “What’d she say?”

Scotty makes a noise of surprise. “You musta had more ale ‘n me.” Then the man simply shakes his head. “Och. Best to leave it be. ‘Twas one of many misunderstandings we’re sure to have with those people!”

Leonard agrees, still somewhat perplexed by Mr. Scott’s reference but ready to let it slide.

Later, as he pulls off his boots and lies upon his small bed, he will make the connection. Following that, he will conclude he isn’t nearly as bothered by the notion of being so close to Jim—or Spock, once he reflects honestly on the thought—as he should be.

Strange, that. He doesn’t know either of them well enough to feel that way.

Next Part

Related Posts:

• Forget Me Not (10/10) – from April 1, 2013
• Forget Me Not (9/10) – from April 1, 2013
• Forget Me Not (8/10) – from March 18, 2013
• Forget Me Not (7/?) – from March 12, 2013
• Forget Me Not (6/?) – from March 6, 2013