Title: An Evening of Us
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: Kirk, Spock, and McCoy are able to spend a little time together.
A/N: It has come to my attention I have too many AOS McSpirk one-shots and hardly any of their TOS counterparts. Please allow me to rectify this mistake. Have some fluff.

When James T. Kirk is aggravated, he has a tendency to barge into his First’s living quarters like they are his own. In the beginning of their acquaintance, the man had a healthy respect for all things Vulcan and that included Spock’s preference for privacy. Now, since they have developed a fondness for one another of a particularly intimate nature, privacy is one of those things which has been sacrificed for the greater good.

Or so Spock has been reminded on multiple occasions by another interloper who also frequents his cabin.

“You’re not going to whine about it, are you?” asks the human Leonard McCoy as he drops into a chair and, of all things, hikes a leg over one of the chair’s arms.

Spock cannot understand how this unnatural position does not adversely affect the man’s spine. But knowing better than to mention this thought (lest he be lectured on who the real doctor is), Spock folds his hands behind his back and stays silent.

Leonard purses his mouth in slight dismay at the lack of response. He reaches for the glass of dark liquor he had brought and takes a sip of it.

Another complaint he often voices is that Spock keeps no ‘good drinks’ in his quarters for those who want something stronger than a spice tea. Spock believes it is his good fortune that the subject has yet to be discussed that evening, even in passing.

Leonard casts an eye around the cabin although chances are he sees nothing new or different since his last visit. After a moment, he says, “I give it another three minutes before Jim blows his gasket and hangs up on ’em.”

Spock is most curious to know how Leonard comes up with these strange comparisons between inanimate objects and human behavior. But again, he says nothing.

Leonard puts down his drink, frowning. “What’s the matter?”

“Matter?” Spock echoes.

For some reason this causes the human’s frown to deepen, and in the next moment Leonard has come to his feet and holds one of Spock’s wrists in his hand. He presses the underside of it with his fingers, then gives a frustrated mutter of “You Vulcans and your triple-digit heart rates—how am I supposed to take your pulse if your heart is beating so fast?”

Spock extricates his wrist. “I assure you I am in good health.”

Leonard leans in to gaze into his eyes. “Hm…”

Raising one eyebrow, Spock waits for the diagnosis.

“Don’t know,” Leonard says, rocking back onto his heels. “I’d say you seem okay but I really need a tricorder to be certain.” He asks again, “What’s the matter? Why are you so quiet?”

Ah. With that clarification, Spock now understands the origin of the concern. “I am simply abiding by Jim’s request that we remain civil during his absence.”

“So what, you figured silence is the better part of valor? We don’t argue that much, Spock.” Leonard’s mouth tips upward on one side suddenly. “Never mind, don’t give me those statistics I can see you calculating.”

“Calculated, Doctor. It took precisely 0.85 seconds. Also, you cannot ‘see’ a mental calculation, particularly when it is not your own.”

Leonard’s half-smile turns into a grin. “Jim doesn’t want us to squabble because he thinks that means we’re flirting and you know how he hates wasted opportunities.”

Spock considers this. “I see… But what opportunity would Jim have if we are engaged in such an activity?”

Leonard reaches out and pats Spock’s shoulder, something he would have never done six months ago. “Darlin’, you just don’t know. It’s better that you don’t know, actually. Jim’s thinking is probably a lot more deviant than you would be comfortable with.”

Spock catches Leonard’s hand. “I am attempting to understand how humans think.”

“Darned illogically!” the man jokes.

Leonard has broad palms and long fingers with the pads slightly callused. These attributes appeal to Spock. “Indeed. Would you be amendable to an argument at this time?”

“If that’s an offer to flirt with me, then why yes I would.”

Jim’s entrance is rather ill-timed, Spock thinks. The man bursts into the room, his stride more frenetic than usual, voice raised. “Those—those—”

Inexplicably, Leonard leans into Spock’s shoulder. “You hung up on them, didn’t you?” he asks Jim.

It takes a moment for Jim’s attention to turn outward, away from the ire he is currently experiencing, and for him to recognize the question. “I certainly did,” he tells them both. “You would have too, if you’d heard their excuses. Sometimes I think the council wants to hinder our mission instead of help it.”

“Told you,” Leonard whispers at Spock.

Spock cannot help but warn the man, “It is not wise to disrespect a tribunal whose influence will be a factor in the longevity of your career.”

Jim replies, stubborn but serious as ever, “I offer respect to those who’ve earned it, Spock.”

There is no more to be said on the subject, Spock knows. He does not wish to let the conflict turn into a disagreement which places them at odds with one another. Not on this evening, which is rare in and of itself.

But the tense line of Jim’s shoulders is already loosening, a sign that his temper will be short-lived.

Perhaps it is to this end that Leonard pulls away from Spock, running his hand from Spock’s shoulder to elbow as he does so. It is evident that Jim notices the contact; his gaze tracks the path of McCoy’s hand.

Leonard starts toward Jim.

Jim says, “This is why I don’t like taking calls during my personal hours. What have I missed?”

“Nothing much,” Leonard admits. He comes close enough to touch Jim but does not. “Spock and I argued a little.”

Jim’s eyelids lower slightly. His voice, Spock notes, takes on a deeper tone. “I told you not to do that.”

“Well, there’s your mistake right there, Jim.” Leonard has that look on his face which means he is pleased with himself concerning what he is about to say. “You can’t stop something that’s inevitable.”

“Inevitable, Bones? That isn’t a word I ever thought I would hear in reference to you and Spock.”

“What about in reference to us?” asks Leonard.

Jim is incredibly still, as he often is when he is waiting for the right moment to take action. The more focused Jim becomes on Leonard, the more languid Leonard seems. The by-play is fascinating. Spock thinks their way of approaching each other as mates is extremely unique.

“Us?” Jim repeats. “I don’t know.” He takes the one step that puts him well inside Leonard’s personal space. “How inevitable are we?”

Leonard makes a soft, amused noise and turns toward Spock.

As Spock predicts, Jim catches Leonard’s arm, pulls him around again and kisses him.

At length Jim eases back, one hand resting on the curve of Leonard’s shoulder and the other against the side of his neck. His thumb caresses the skin along the underside of Leonard’s jaw.

“Bones…” he says, in a tone of voice Spock has come to associate with the word tender.

Leonard murmurs something. Out of respect Spock does not listen too closely. Then Jim’s eyes turn to Spock.

“It’s fine to observe, Spock, but you shouldn’t do it from over there.”

“Where should I be?” Spock wants to know.

“Come here” is all Jim says.

Spock finds himself obeying, which he has long-since discovered he does not mind if Jim Kirk is the one asking for his obedience. In fact, there is no other person (with the exception of the man standing next to Jim) whom he readily trusts to take command in situations where he is not suitably educated.

When Spock comes abreast of the men, Jim transfers the hand he has on Leonard’s neck to Spock’s shoulder.

“Better,” Jim remarks, voice warm. “Now, gentlemen, it has come to my attention that—”

The computer at Spock’s desk chirps with an incoming message.

Leonard groans. “Have you ever known a ship to have better timing?”

Jim tightens his hand on Spock’s shoulder before letting Spock move away. “Tell them you’re indisposed, Spock.”

Technically that would not be true…

“Based on the assumption you would’ve been indisposed if they’d called a minute later,” adds Leonard.

That, perhaps, could be managed. He answers the communication with “Commander Spock here.”

“Mr. Spock, is Dr. McCoy with you?“

“He is,” Spock replies, noticing belatedly that both Jim and Leonard have raised their hands in an order of cease-and-desist. “My apologies, Dr. M’Benga. A moment.” He mutes the comm, begins, “Leonard…” but rather illogically cannot think of what else to say.

Leonard comes over to the desk with a small smile. “It’s all right, Spock.” He unlocks the channel. “McCoy here.”

The assistant CMO sounds apologetic and maybe harried. “Remember that outbreak of the Lyonesse Flu we thought we’d avoided at the last starbase?“

“Oh lord,” says Leonard, “I knew it. Start synthesizing the vaccinations. On my way. McCoy out.” He looks to Spock as he heads to the door. “Keep Jim confined to his quarters.”

“Bones,” Jim calls, startled, “you can’t do that!”

“Viruses might as well be sentient, Jim. When they’re onboard, they’re always out to get you. Now be a good captain and stay indoors!”

Jim crosses his arms. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Leonard gives Spock a significant look before the door closes behind him.

Behind Spock, Jim huffs. “Can you believe he said that? I hardly ever get sick!”

This statement Spock cannot agree with. He folds his arms behind his back and turns to face his captain. “It seems logical to be cautious. How shall I entertain you, sir?”

“Chess,” Jim answers, looking irritated that his evening has not gone according to plan. He moves toward the bathroom and the cabin beyond it allotted to him as Captain of the Enterprise. “Have I told you I feel like my luck has been atrocious lately? First, we pick up that band of space hippies and half of my crew gets unwittingly stoned; then Command sends out their new rulebook expecting we can be up to code by the end of the year—ha!—and somebody in Laundry shrunk all of my green tops—”

Wordlessly, Spock follows Jim. Though it is regrettable he and his two bondmates cannot spend the remainder of the evening in a manner in which they would all find pleasing, he determines this experience has benefitted him greatly.

It goes without saying he looks forward to a future of many more such experiences.

-Fini

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