Title: Plus One
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: pre-Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: There’s a party and a certain First Officer needs a date – even if he doesn’t ask for one.
A/N: Basically I was so giddy last night over the new STXII trailer and the fact that in a month I will be watching the movie, my brain decided to produce a giddy fic idea—that is, fic that makes no sense whatsoever but which hopefully should be enjoyable anyway. :)

“I suppose,” Leonard McCoy said, slanting a look at the officer seated near him at the cafeteria table, “you heard about this get-together Recreation decided to have tomorrow night in the gymnasium.”

“Indeed” was the faint reply. “I approved the paperwork for it.”

Leonard straightened at this news. “Really? How they’d get you to agree to something like that?”

Spock’s left eyebrow might have twitched at the incredulity in Leonard’s voice. “Its objective is to improve crew morale. I saw no reason to decline the request—on the stipulation that a decorum befitting Starfleet officers must be maintained at all times during the event by the attending populace.”

“Meaning somebody’s in the hot seat if people start dancing naked on the tables?” Leonard grinned because the thought of Spock’s reaction upon encountering such a spectacle was an amusing one. He also doubted that at present Spock understood just why he was grinning so broadly, which had the effect of making him grin more.

The Vulcan turned to observe Leonard, the fork en route to his mouth coming to a halt. “Are there other examples of atypical behavior should I anticipate, Dr. McCoy?” He sounded genuinely curious.

Leonard lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug, thinking that there was no answer better than firsthand experience, experience Spock would likely regret by the end of tomorrow’s party. Maybe the block-headed Vulcan would finally learn a thing or two about the nature of humans—and how they tended to let loose when given the chance.

As if this very thought conjured the perfect specimen to showcase what he meant, the captain of their starship strode confidently into the Officer’s Mess. Jim’s shit-eating grin, Leonard decided, probably boded ill for them all, but at the moment in particular it boded ill for him since Kirk, eyes alight, didn’t bother messing with the replicators and made a beeline for the table Leonard was sitting at.

“Commander, Dr. McCoy,” Jim greeted in turn, as if formalities were required, and slid into a seat equal distance from Leonard and Spock on the opposite side of the long table.

Leonard considered Jim’s expression until Jim met his look with an air of challenge, daring Leonard to ask what he was up to. Recognizing a trap when he saw it, Leonard gave his plate of food his attention instead, saying in an offhand manner, “Spock’s okay with the mixer.”

“I know,” responded Kirk. “I received an invitation this morning from the head planner. He emphasized repeatedly he had my First Officer’s stamp of approval. Really, did he expect me to veto a party?”

Given the amusement in Jim’s voice, the question was rhetorical. Leonard chuckled.

Jim’s humorous mood shifted without warning, and the air around Leonard felt charged. Under the impression the man across from him was about to unleash something lethal, like maybe a devastating natural charm, in an attempt to strike them speechless, Leonard stuck his spoon into his heap of replicated mashed potatoes and decided it was now or never to make a declaration of intent. “It’ll look bad if Spock goes by himself, so I guess I’m gonna be his date.”

Silence descended over them. Leonard was acutely aware that Spock had altogether ceased the pretense of interest in his food and was staring openly at the side of his head like Leonard had just said a horde of floppy-eared bunnies invaded the Bridge and now had command of the ship.

Silence, shocked though it was, didn’t stick with Jim for long. The man burst out with “Bullshit!”

An affronted Leonard gave Jim his fiercest glare. He drawled, “Excuse me?”

“Bullshit,” Jim repeated, leaning in Leonard’s direction with sudden intensity. “You’re not his date, Bones—I am!”

Leonard turned to Spock with the demand, “Is that true?”

But Spock had transferred his stare to his captain, looking like he was of the opinion Jim was crazy, probably crazier than Leonard McCoy, and that answered the question easily enough.

Leonard turned back to Jim, feeling a bit smug. “I don’t think he wants to go with you, Jim.”

Jim’s eyelids dropped to half-mast. “Think again. Everybody wants to go with the Captain, Bones.”

“I don’t see how there’d be any room for company when you’re toting an ego the size of a nacelle.”

“Ooh, I’d be hurt except… I’m not.” Jim grinned at him. “As a man of superior rank, I call first dibs.”

“Well I asked.” Which was kind of a lie, even though he had been intending to ask Spock (or nominate himself, depending on how the conversation had played out) but Jim didn’t know that.

A tray scraped across the table in warning to their right. They ignored it.

Jim countered with “I was his first friend!”

“Captain—”

“I was his first—first—” doctor friend? Verbal sparring partner? Regular pain in the ass? “I was his first,” Leonard settled on somewhat petulantly, unable to think of an immediate way to outclass Kirk.

Jim’s eyes widened abruptly. “Really? His first?” He looked at Spock, eyes still the size of quarters.

Leonard realized belatedly how his assertion sounded and flushed just beneath the collar of his uniform. Spock, though his face was remarkably calm, had a peculiar green tint to his ears.

“Not like that, Jim!” Leonard backpedaled in haste. “I’m just saying… I’m his friend too! So why can’t I darn well go with him to the party instead of you?”

“Because…” Jim narrowed his eyes as his train of thought swerved back to their heated discussion. “…I’m the captain.”

“You already said that.”

“Oh.”

“See?” insisted Leonard, enjoying his victory. “There’s no good reason for him to go with you over me.”

But Jim was not listening. His back straightened as he cried, “Aha! But I know his favorite color!”

“Spock’s a Vulcan!” Leonard retorted with exasperation, stabbing a finger at their silent, dark-eyed companion. “He doesn’t have a favorite color! Favorite colors are illogical!”

Jim only said, unperturbed by Leonard’s vehemence, “His favorite color is blue.”

“You made that up!”

“Like my eyes,” the man added innocently.

Leonard rolled his own eyes heavenward. “I swear, reasoning with you is worse than reasoning with a toddler!”

“Hey, that’s uncalled-for, Bones. Believe me, I’m a full-grown man.”

“Your innuendos are getting old, kid.”

Jim didn’t miss a beat. “Then I’ll think up new ones. But my decision still stands. You can’t take Spock to the dance.”

“What is this, grade school? It’s not a dance, Jim, it’s a party. Adults only. With booze.”

“Fine. It’s kind of a prom for grownups. Did you go to Prom? I didn’t go to Prom. So I get to take Spock.”

Leonard would have retorted but at that moment Spock stood up without picking up his tray and looked down his nose at them. “Gentlemen,” he said, “if this is your version of ‘fighting over the girl’, I would remind you I am neither female nor human. Also, I will not be present at this party, wherein quite illogically you both seem to have assumed my approval is equivalent to my desire to attend.”

Leonard watched Spock place his hands behind his back and appear moderately satisfied that he had delivered a proper dressing-down to two ignorant Terrans. Then McCoy studied Kirk, who seemed unfazed by the rejection.

The fact that Jim was unfazed was evidenced when, without blinking, he said to the Vulcan, “I guess you want me to skip the corsage?”

Oddly, Leonard’s urge to fight fled. He tucked his utensils onto his plate so they wouldn’t roll away and picked up his tray as he climbed to his feet. He told Kirk and Spock, “Never mind. I’ve got another offer or two I can cash in.”

Leonard paused in his movements, then, because the nonchalant statement stuck with him and shed a new light on the situation. Could Jim say the same? Who on this ship had the balls to ask the Captain to be a plus one? Who could Jim say yes to which wouldn’t spread rumors like wildfire? Suddenly it made too much sense why Jim was so insistent he went to that party at the side of his Vulcan First Officer.

Leonard caught Jim’s startled gaze and gave a subtle nod of encouragement. “I concede the battle, Captain.”

More slowly, to Spock he remarked, “If you go with him, you can make certain he doesn’t wind up as one of those monkey impersonators dancing on the tables.” He added after a moment, “And I think you’ll have a good time, Spock, so why not give it a try?”

“Doctor,” the Vulcan replied, dark eyes unreadable, but Spock didn’t say more than that and Leonard was at a loss to read his mind.

“See y’all later,” Leonard said by way of a goodbye and, with a swiftness to his normally placid gait, took himself and his tray away from the table. Jim might have tried calling him back, but Leonard knew it wouldn’t do to stay. They’d get along fine—better, mayhap—without him.

How could he not have remembered Jim only fought for those things which mattered most to him? Leonard just hoped he hadn’t ruined a much needed celebration for Jim. It would be hard to forgive himself if he had.

~~~

The next day, the sound of a door opening and closing was distant to Leonard’s ears. He took another empty test tube out of the centrifuge.

“Tell me you’re not spending the night in here.”

Leonard turned, not expecting to find his Assistant CMO watching him. “I thought you were headed over to Christine’s?”

“She commed me and told me not to show up for another fifteen minutes. Apparently it takes more prep time for a woman than a man when it comes to formal events.”

Leonard snorted. “This party’s gonna be something all right, but I doubt formal’s the right word, Geoff.”

Dr. M’Benga tucked his hands into the pockets of a lab coat draped over his grey slacks and casual white shirt. “She also ordered me to see to it that you weren’t hiding in the department somewhere.”

Leonard rubbed a hand against a knotted muscle between his neck and shoulder. “I’m not hiding. I’m working. There’s a difference.”

M’Benga just looked at him. “You could have gone with Nurse—”

“Could’ve been misconstrued later on,” Leonard interrupted. “She works for me.”

Geoff seemed amused. “And what’s your excuse for turning down the redhead?”

“Barrows?” Boy, was she a looker. As a flesh-and-blood man, Leonard appreciated beauty. And while Tonia was clearly interested in him… “I didn’t want to start something I didn’t plan to finish.”

“That’s wise, sir,” agreed the other doctor affably, “but it’s not very helpful to your staff if you make yourself grumpy because everybody else went to a party you didn’t have sense enough to attend.” When Leonard raised his eyebrows at that brazen statement, Geoff amended quickly, “Chapel’s words, not mine.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Leonard told him, slumping on his stool. “Somebody has got to be here anyway.”

“Not in this particular laboratory, Leonard. Look, why don’t you join Christine and me?”

“Three’s a crowd.”

But Geoff shook his head. “It really isn’t. Besides, you can dance, right? I can’t, so come along and spare me the experience of making a fool of myself in front of Christine and her friends.”

“Bones has two left feet,” a voice interjected. In the next second, Jim rounded the corner of the open entrance to the lab. “I’ve seen him dance. It was horrible and funny at the same time.”

“Captain,” Geoff greeted the man, not at all sounding shocked by Kirk’s arrival, while Leonard said, quite nonplussed, “Jim.”

Jim blinked. “Oh, was that a secret? Sorry, Bones.”

Leonard sighed heavily through his nose. “What’s up, kid? Where’s your date?”

“I’m picking up my date.”

“…And on that note,” M’Benga commented too loudly, “I think I hear Christine calling me from Deck 2.”

“Wait, Geoff,” Leonard said, standing up, “if it’s all right I think I’ll take you up on that invitation…”

But M’Benga was gone in the next instant, not quite running away but not walking either, as if he could not spend another moment in the room as Kirk and McCoy without it being detrimental to his person.

Damn, Leonard thought. He had planned to settle back on his stool but Jim reached out and laid a hand on his arm.

“Bones… I didn’t mean to cut you out.”

Leonard frowned at the apology. “I don’t follow you, Jim.”

“With Spock,” Jim clarified.

“Oh. Oh, no, it’s fine,” he assured his friend. “Truly. You get along better with him anyway.” The side of his mouth quirked at a thought. “Besides, can you imagine the hobgoblin putting up with me after I’ve had a few drinks? He’d drape me over a chair like a coat and walk away, pretending he forgot where he put me.”

“Now, now, Bones,” chided Jim with a click of his tongue. “Give Spock a little credit. If you were really drunk, he’d at least make sure you didn’t choke on your own vomit before he abandoned you to your fate.”

They grinned at each other.

Jim sobered first. His hand squeezed Leonard’s arm before he let go of him. “Whether you will or won’t disgust Spock with your drinking habits doesn’t matter. I’ll be there to look out for you too.” There was warmth in his eyes as he added, “You can trust me.”

“I know,” Leonard responded easily, only to backtrack in confusion a moment later. “Wait… I’m not going with Spock.”

“You are,” Jim said. “Also, you’re going with me.”

“But,” Leonard protested, “three’s a—”

“I heard someone smart once say, ‘It really isn’t.'” Jim smiled at him.

Leonard couldn’t help but return the smile. “You always find a way, don’t you, Jim?”

Jim opened a hand as if to question aren’t I supposed to? “It’s why I’m Captain.”

Leonard turned to look at the lab equipment he had barely touched. “I suppose this isn’t going anywhere.”

“Atta boy, Bones!” Jim slung an arm around his shoulders and tugged him towards the exit. “Let’s find you a change of clothes. Spock thinks it makes no difference what he wears to a party but you and I know otherwise.”

“So Spock is aware you’re bringing me along on this prom date?”

Jim replied cheerfully, “He said and I quote, ‘Dr. McCoy did stake the first claim.'”

Leonard didn’t know if his sputter was due to embarrassment or Jim’s choice of wording. Because, really, there was no way Spock said something about staking a claim. …No possible way in the known universe, right?

Jim continued on, oblivious to Leonard’s mental cart-wheels. “Congratulations, you do get a first with Spock after all. I’m his first friend, and you’re his first ‘claimer’.”

“My god,” Leonard said, putting a hand over his face. It’s not like he needed to see where he was going. Jim had a hold of him and wasn’t likely to let Leonard go anywhere but the place he wanted Leonard to be.

“If I was less awesome than I am, Bones, I would be jealous, but we can share. Also, no one’s claimed you yet, am I right?”

Leonard didn’t dare peek at Jim and those magnetizing eyes and that shit-eating grin, which had no doubt cropped up again now that Kirk thought he was winning something—or someone.

Of course, Leonard didn’t tell Jim to shut up either. That would defeat the purpose, he discovered. Somehow it turned out that he wanted to hear what else Jim had to say.

-Fini

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