Title: The Arrangement
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: Five important reasons why Jim sleeps in the middle, and one absolutely necessary reason he can’t be anywhere else.
A/N: The flu has invaded my workplace and seems to have gotten everyone but me. Even then I’ve felt generally run-down and, on occasion, feverish – and so it’s been a rough week. Last night I slept well for the first time in several days and wouldn’t you know it? I dreamt about my favorite pairing! :) Here’s a bit of that. I might write the rest of it later. Enjoy!

On any given night, the Captain’s bed is typically occupied thus: Spock and Leonard on the outside, and Jim in the middle. Like all arrangements that become part and parcel of a relationship, there is particular rhyme and reason as to why.

#1

Leonard may be assigned to regular shifts of duty like any other crewman but he’s on a call 24/7. After all, he is the ship’s chief surgeon in addition to sporting the duties of Chief Medical Officer, and emergencies cater to no one. This means it is better if his staff can track his whereabouts most of the time.

Leonard says as much to Jim when they first decide to sleep together. With a solemn nod, Jim promises, “I’ll do my best to fix that, Bones.”

Two days later, a little something extra has been rewired in the comm system of Leonard’s personal quarters—meaning that, with the press of a button, any incoming calls are automatically re-routed to Kirk’s quarters without the detection of activity or logging thereof through the ship’s computer.

This prevents discovery, Jim says, so that they all can maintain the illusion the ship’s commanding officers aren’t violating any fraternization regulations with their romantic entanglement.

Entanglement, nothing, Leonard replies, and who cares?

I suspect we are not hiding anything which is not already known, adds Spock, who is listening to this conversation with interest.

Jim chooses to ignore them in favor of maintaining his own illusion; although to what purpose, neither Leonard nor Spock can determine.

The result of Jim’s impromptu hacking is that it isn’t uncommon for the comm speaker positioned nearest Leonard to rouse him from his sleep with a nurse on the end of the line saying he’s needed in the med bay. Because Leonard is closest to the edge of the bed, he knows he can leave without disturbing anyone if he’s careful. This is mainly why the arrangement suits the doctor just fine.

#2

If Leonard’s profession makes for a valid reason, so does Spock’s biology. It is a fact that the Vulcan does not always prefer to sleep at the end of his work shift. He can, in fact, go for several weeks without sleep (not that Leonard lets him, if it can be helped).

It is rather common in the beginning of their relationship that Leonard and Jim fall asleep without Spock beside them or at a time when the Vulcan is not present in the bedroom. Of the two humans, Jim seems the most put-out by this and begins a campaign to lure Spock into the bed whenever he can and make him stay there. In turn, Spock vacillates between simple acquiescence to Jim’s desire and confusion.

Eventually Leonard has to sit the Vulcan down and explain that, for the sake of both their sanities, it would be easier if they all went to bed at the same time. Spock protests until Leonard leans in and whispers, “You can pretend to sleep, can’t you, hobgoblin? Once Jim dozes off, just slip outta bed and go back to work. Believe me, everybody will feel less sensitive that way.”

After some contemplation, Spock admits there is some wisdom in Leonard’s plan. For saying so, Leonard rewards him with a Vulcan kiss. Spock lifts an eyebrow at the positive reinforcement, very aware of the subsequent behavior Leonard is trying to instill in him, and follows up the Vulcan kiss with one that is much more human.

After the plan has been enacted, it’s not to say Jim is oblivious to the fact that Spock is more often out of bed than in it. But as Leonard predicts, so long as Kirk has both of his partners at his side while he drifts off to sleep, there is no complaining from any of them.

#3

By rights the cuddler is relegated to the middle of the bed.

Vulcans sleep only on their back, hands at their sides or clasped sedately across their stomach. Leonard has noted Spock rarely moves while resting, not even to twitch. He fondly calls it “our hobgoblin’s Dead Man Pose.” Spock has never seen fit to change the way he sleeps, so it must be that he comprehends there is no insult meant by the words.

While Leonard thinks a Vulcan’s sleeping habits are funny, Jim—the cuddler in question—is very appreciative of it. During slumber, he can be found in the position of having slung a leg or an arm here and there across Spock’s person. Sometimes drool is involved. Luckily, whatever Spock thinks of this treatment as a body pillow is a well-kept secret and if he suffers from it, he does so in silence.

Leonard is a sometimes-cuddler: a spooner, to be precise. If he wants to fit himself against Kirk’s back, that is okay; if Jim wants to be the big spoon, that is okay too. And if Leonard wants to feel unhindered by limbs not his own, he just rolls Kirk over to Spock with a sigh of relief. In the instances where Spock isn’t there to complete the transfer of Kirk, Leonard steals into the Vulcan’s quarters via the bathroom, gives Spock the most pathetic look he can muster, and says, “I need sleep.”

At this singular plea, Spock will shut down his workstation, return to bed, and accept Jim with wordless grace.

If for that alone and nothing else, Leonard loves his Vulcan.

#4

The very first time the conversation arises of who will sleep in the middle, Leonard claims, “Not it!”

Jim, with a frown, is not pleased to hear this. “Why?”

The doctor rolls his eyes. “Just how many times do you want me to crawl over you so I can get to the bathroom?”

“I don’t care, Bones.”

“I do,” Leonard retorts. Then he looks at Spock. “If I wake up before I’ve had a full four hours, I have to pee every two or three. I should be on the outside.”

“That is practical,” agrees Spock.

“Okay,” Jim says reluctantly, “but I expected this discussion to be a little more…”

“Practical,” Leonard and Spock repeat at the same time.

“…sexy.” When that garners no response (other than two identical looks of really, Jim?), Jim nods decisively. “I’ll take the middle.”

Leonard cuts another glance in Spock’s direction. “He doesn’t pee as much.”

“I see. Is this a medical issue?”

“Other than willful dehydration? Not yet.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jim tries to interrupt, “I’m kinda asking you both to move in with me here! Why are we talking about—”

Leonard, still eyeing Spock, purses his mouth. “Maybe I should set the computer to monitor his urine output.”

“I believe that would be wise, Doctor.”

The conversation continues along this vein. Jim, having lost control of it so quickly and so badly, walks away with the stiff gait of the embarrassed.

#5

That one person always feels hot when the other person feels cold could be a natural law of newlyweds—or in this case, of two humans and a Vulcan who are in the midst of learning that their relationship is fast-approaching a version of marriage.

“You steal all the damn covers, anyway,” complains Leonard as he stuffs one socked foot into a boot.

“So what? If you throw them off, Bones, that means you don’t want them.”

Leonard turns his head to glare at a Jim freshly emerged from a sonic shower with a toothbrush hanging out the corner of his mouth. “Well, what about Spock? Huh, Jim? He has to have covers for himself or he’ll turn into a Vulcan-iscle!”

Jim plucks the toothbrush out of his mouth and points it at himself. “Spock has me. I’m warm enough.”

“About as warm as a frog’s behind! My god, the poor circulation in your hands and feet probably make him feel like he’s in the damned Arctic.”

Spock enters through the bathroom, dressed for duty. “I assume you have not reached an agreement.”

Leonard’s glare at Kirk intensifies. “I won’t switch. It’s already like a damn sauna in here. And why are you bringing this up now, kid?”

Jim shoves the toothbrush back into his mouth with a glare of his own.

Spock makes a soft noise that might be a sigh through his nose. “Jim, I must admit I also do not understand why you are not satisfied with our current arrangement.”

“I am satisfied,” Jim grumbles around his toothbrush. “I just thought I was being nice by offering Bones a chance to be in the middle.”

“No,” Leonard says again. “I like it where I am.”

“Why the hell are you so ornery, Bones?”

“‘Cause I’m old!”

“Then maybe you should sleep in the middle—so you don’t fall off and break a hip!”

“Why you—” snarls the dark-haired man, jumping up.

Jim takes a bring it on stance.

Spock watches them for a minute longer (Leonard is trying to whack Jim upside the head with the boot he isn’t wearing, and Jim makes an attempt to pull the back of Leonard’s shirt over his head, thereby increasing the duration of their struggle) before pivoting on the ball of his foot and striding to the cabin’s exit. Along the way he muses why it is that humans feel they must be averse to change.

Clearly it would only be logical never to bring up the subject of altering their arrangement again, in any form or fashion.

+1

Captain’s quarters hosts the largest bed on the ship. Jim hates it.

He would rather sleep on a cot from which he is always on the verge of falling off; he would rather have to curl his long frame onto a creaky Sickbay bed, or sleep rolled back against a wall in a crowded room to create a space all his own. So he tries to trade down, but people just look at him funny and mutter about how they wish they had what he has. They never take his earnest “You can have it!” seriously and insist with a laugh it wouldn’t be right when there’s a pecking order to be followed and Jim is at the top of it. And always, always, Jim winds up feeling bad that he doesn’t appreciate this particular privilege of his captaincy.

In the end, there is only one solution: if he can’t get rid of the bed, he will have to par it down to a size that makes him comfortable. Initially the solution seems difficult to tackle, but Jim is nothing if not creative when faced with a challenge.

That’s where Bones and Spock come in.

The bed will seem much smaller once three people are sharing it. It’s advantageous, Kirk decides, that he’s in love with them both.

His master plan starts with the wooing—something which Jim likes to believe comes very naturally to him. With a charming smile, a little chitchat in his bedroom voice, he can turn many a head.

…But Vulcans don’t understand the concept of being wooed.

And hypospray-wielding doctors take very great offense to it, apparently.

Smarting from five extra vitamin shots in two days and being told by his First Officer that his strange behavior indicates he might have an affliction—and shouldn’t he see McCoy about that?—Jim drags himself and his wounded pride back to his quarters to contemplate his failure. There the bed mocks him, larger than ever.

Well, fail once, try again.

The next (admittedly, somewhat altered) course of action is to get Bones and Spock used to being in his quarters without making it obvious what he’s planning. Therefore at every opportunity he asks them to meet him there.

If an alien might attack the ship?

“Wait, tell that thing to hold up, Uhura—and send Spock and Bones along to my quarters.”

If he has to go planetside for a diplomatic conference?

“Hey, Bones, meet me in my quarters. No, it’s serious this time. I don’t know which shirt to wear. And bring Spock. You guys can decide together.”

When it’s a special anniversary—and not the good kind?

On that account at least, Jim never has to say anything at all. Leonard and Spock always show up on their own, the former bearing a pungent liquor and the latter holding one of Jim’s favorite books to be read aloud.

Yet after a few months of trying, Jim still has no one with whom to share his bed. He can’t figure it out. He made his desire plain and left the door open, literally, multiple times.

He starts to mope and in an abject kind of despair takes his moping self on a tour of the Enterprise. In Engineering, Scotty hands him a wrench, saying kindly, “I don’t know what’s got ye so doun, Capt’n, but the Lady will always make ye feel welcome.”

At the gym, he lets Hendorff best him in their weekly sparring match, flip and pin him to the ground. Afterward, the man looks at him in concern, questioning, “Captain? Are you in pain?”

“Not the physical kind, Mr. Hendorff.”

“…Then maybe you should see Mr. Spock?”

Jim just throws an arm over his eyes.

Uhura gives him long, creepy stares that read you are an idiot and figure this out, or I’m coming to fix it myself. At her side, Chekov simultaneously mouthes an apology and encouragement.

Later, a distracted walk around a well-maintained botanical garden results in a near-collision with Sulu. The helmsman, a potted plant in hand, apologizes for not seeing Jim.

“It’s my fault,” Jim tells him.

Sulu becomes quiet for a moment and, strangely, doesn’t continue on his way. “Permission to speak freely, sir,” he says at last.

Jim nods.

“You don’t seem happy.”

“I’m not,” Jim blurts out before he thinks better of it.

Sulu looks down at the plant he has in the crook of his arm. “It’s not easy to find that which makes you happy—but once you do find it, you shouldn’t let it go.”

Jim sorts through the layers of messages in those words. “What if that—thing which makes me happy was never obtainable to begin with?”

Sulu gives a slight shrug. “Some people choose to believe that. Some don’t. I thought you were one of the ones who didn’t.” After inclining his head respectfully, Sulu walks away.

Jim stares at the circular path curving around the rosebushes for a long time. Something inside him settles. Then he too turns and leaves the garden behind.

In Sickbay, Leonard McCoy is terrorizing a yeoman who burnt her hand with her curling iron. Chapel spies Jim coming and shoves her boss into Kirk’s path, who freezes mid-rant upon seeing Jim.

Jim comes within a distance to grab a hold of the doctor but does not, saying instead in a voice that demands instant obedience, “With me, Dr. McCoy.”

Leonard follows him out of the bay, looking almost too afraid to protest.

In a room adjacent to a lab, there is a wide breach between Spock and his team of scientists. They don’t dare look at Jim and Leonard when the two men enter the room. Spock does not glance in their direction either.

“Mr. Spock.”

“Captain.” The response is rancor-less and dutiful but otherwise flat. Yet the moment Jim steps into that space no one else has dared to, Spock halts his work at his computer.

“Let’s go, Spock,” Jim says, just once in a firm tone, and heads back toward the door.

Inevitably Spock follows, too. Leonard and Spock don’t ask where Jim is leading them. Jim thinks it might be possible they already know. The thought strengthens his resolve.

Inside his personal cabin by the bed, the thing Jim wanted to avoid and now knows he cannot, he watches the faces of the two people he loves most. Spock returns his stare, and Leonard looks at the floor, the walls, and door.

Finally, Jim goes to the bed and sits upon its edge. He says, “Tell me why.”

“We cannot do as you ask unless you are more specific in your request, Captain,” Spock replies.

Leonard’s gaze seems to have gotten stuck on the tops of Jim’s boots. His voice is slightly strangled when he agrees, “What Spock said.”

Jim balls his hands into loose fists and sets them on his knees. “I hate this bed. Did you know that?”

Leonard meets his eyes, then, startled and for the first time Spock considers the object and not the speaker.

Jim continues: “I hate this bed, I hate this room, I hate everything that comes with it. I kinda hate my life.” He draws in a breath. “No, scratch that, I know I hate my life.”

“Why?” The question Spock speaks is also evident in Leonard’s eyes.

“Because if I was the kind of man who was meant to have all this, I wouldn’t miss what I don’t have.” Jim looks away, then back again and stands up, tense but ready to push onward. “But you know what I’ve decided? Screw what I’m supposed to do. What I can do—the only thing I know I can do—is survive when you’re with me.”

Leonard’s curled shoulders straighten out suddenly. “Jim…”

Jim’s throat works as he swallows, and he finishes in a rush, “So this is me asking you, both of you… please be with me. Or tell me why you don’t love me.”

And so, part of their story ends and another part begins. More importantly, what comes after is why Jim can be the only candidate to sleep in the middle: right there, in between Leonard McCoy and Spock of Vulcan, who understand completely his need for them, is where Jim Kirk fits perfectly into the life and the destiny which he was always meant to lead.

And this time he loves it.

-Fini

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