Title: Friendly Conspiracy (2/2)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Characters: Kirk, Spock, McCoy
Summary: When Jim told them to play nice, he didn’t actually expect them to do it.
Previous Part: 1

To say Jim is terrible at discussing his feelings would be a grave understatement. He can laugh at his feelings. He can talk around them. He can even vomit them out in a sudden, horrific display of violence or depression brought on by keeping the damn things suppressed for years at a time. But to address them directly?

It’s un-heard of.

Jim isn’t wary of feelings because he was raised that way. He just knows that having them doesn’t often make a difference in what is to come. Loving his mother didn’t keep her grounded on Earth for more than a year at a time. Hating his uncle didn’t change the fact that he had to live with the man. Missing those who had died, including the father he never knew, did not make anyone more alive or help Jim get along without them. People would say of course it matters how you feel, Jimmy, but he has often wondered to himself, does it? If he could be less human, he might have a quick answer to that and a life philosophy to back it up; but he is very, definitely human in the emotional sense and on top of that, hopelessly inept at handling his feelings in a healthy, harmless way. He doesn’t have a Vulcan’s fortitude or a healer’s instinct. To him, strong emotions are always of the raw and unwanted variety. He knows too well that they can hurt him as much as he can use them to hurt others.

So… having a conversation on how he feels? On the best of days, the thought downright terrifies him.

Seated at the edge of his bed, Jim sighs as he thinks on the matter. He honestly has no idea how he is going to face Spock and McCoy long enough to discuss what’s troubling him.

Knowing it has to be done, it seems, doesn’t make the task any easier.

~~~

The Captain’s chair is the best seat on the ship. Jim is always at home there even when he feels unwelcome everywhere else. At present the bridge screen view has a very calming effect on him, being filled within nothing more than distant winking stars and a stray, misty-thin nebula. His eyes have started to fall closed.

There comes the sound of the turbolift depositing someone of the deck. Jim’s sixth sense tells him it’s Bones who has arrived for a visit, and he stirs a little in anticipation of seeing his friend.

Seconds pass. Footfalls come and go.

Jim finally looks around, only to discover his guess is very wrong. Leonard has no intention of coming to stand by his chair as usual. The doctor is walking leisurely along the upper level, hands clasped at his back. He nods in passing to the officer manning Weapons and Security. He drawls, “Afternoon, Lieutenant” to Uhura. Then he stops at the Science station and stares at Spock. Spock turns slightly in his chair to stare back. They don’t speak.

Jim has to loosen his grip on the arms of his chair. He can’t be too conspicuous. He can’t…

Shit.

He’s out of the chair before he thinks better of it, striding towards the pair.

Leonard is peering over Spock’s shoulder now at something on the computer console, and Spock is not shunning the interest.

Jim breathes deeply twice before he comes abreast of them. “Bones, Spock,” he says in a halting way, “we need to talk.”

Leonard straightens up but with a lack of understanding in his eyes. “Jim?”

He infuses his voice with a little more steel. “Gentlemen, with me.”

There is no question of the order this time. They follow him to the Ready Room on the portside. Jim moves deep into the room. Only when he feels he is at a safe distance does he turn around to face them.

They don’t know why he’s brought them here, why this conversation cannot be held on the Bridge. He sees that much.

There is no good way to start, Jim thinks with a bit of despair. He gestures between Spock and McCoy. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Don’t know what you mean, Jim.”

“Yes, please clarify, Captain.”

“Guys, I thought the point of… this,” again he makes the same gesture, “was so that I would notice. Or do you just think I’m as dumb as an Andorran bat?”

Leonard’s mouth thins, and he looks to Spock. Spock does nothing.

Is it possible they are as uncomfortable talking about this as Jim is?

Jim wishes he knew. He turns and paces a half-circle that stays wide of the other men. Well, he won’t say anything either. It’s their turn, not his.

At last, Leonard crosses his arms and sighs. “Somebody break here, a’right?”

Jim points out, “That’s what you’re doing, Bones.”

“Am not!” retorts the man. “Even if I wanted to—” Suddenly he clams up.

Jim stills, making something of that he does not like. “What does that mean? Are you implying it’s my fault?” His temper rises. “I didn’t say you had to be friends with Spock!”

“Technically,” replies the person in question, “you did.”

“When?” he demands.

“Whoa,” Leonard intercedes, “that’s not where this conversation needs to be heading. Jim, stop it. Don’t get angry.”

But Jim wants to be angry. Anger, he understands. Anger, he has always had a modicum of control over. He puffs out a loud breath of air.

“Relax,” Leonard emphasizes.

Interpreting Leonard’s expression as don’t you dare do otherwise, kid, Jim forces his fists to open and lets his arms hang loose at his sides.

By this time, Spock has crossed his arms to mirror McCoy.

“Damn it,” Jim bursts out, looking from one to the other, “why the hell are you doing this to me? I’m not okay here, okay? I didn’t want to force you to be nice to each other!”

“Jim.”

“It was supposed to just happen, Bones,” he says to Leonard, since Spock and his frank stare unnerves Jim more.

“Jim, nothing just happens,” his friend argues, tone a bit dry. “But you didn’t force us.”

When Spock opens his mouth, the doctor’s elbow jabs at a pocket of air near the Vulcan, which Spock has apparently learned at some point is a gesture that means he needs to stay quiet.

“You didn’t,” Leonard insists, gaze fixed steadily on Jim. “Sure, you might have given us an order, but like either Spock or I would listen to that nonsense.”

“Thanks?”

“Don’t thank me yet, kid. I am still a bit pissed about that. We’ll discuss the particulars later.”

Oh joy. Jim eyes Leonard, doubting very much that he will enjoy that future chat. Bones has some very peculiar notions of when Jim is his friend and when Jim is his captain. Mostly, Jim is the friend—and that means he gets yelled at a lot, even for the captain-related things.

“My point, Jim, is that Spock and I acknowledged a problem and made a mutual decision on what to do about it. Now,” the man says too patiently, “why don’t you ask us how it’s going?”

“I can see how it’s going. The whole ship can. Seriously…” Now Jim looks to Spock. “…don’t you find it creepy?”

“I admit to some discomfort.”

“Be complimentary,” Leonard mutters under his breath.

Spock tilts his head in the man’s direction. “Doctor, do you wish me to lie?”

Leonard’s facial expression wavers between a hint of his usual annoyance and something else. He says severely, “If you think you’re going to break the rule, then don’t say anything at all.”

“Wait,” Jim calls out, lifting a hand. “What rule?”

Again, the doctor mutters under his breath.

“There are guidelines we should follow in order to facilitate a healthy interaction,” Spock explains. “Dr. McCoy was referring to the one which states give compliments.“

“My god,” says Leonard, putting a hand to his face. “Why don’t you just go ahead and pull out the handbook and bring about the end to the meager respect our co-workers may still have for us?”

Jim’s eyes widen. “There’s a handbook?”

“Indeed.”

“You don’t have to look quite so delighted at our suffering, Jim.”

“Bones, you don’t understand. This is… this makes a difference.”

Leonard stares at him as if he’s grown another head.

Jim opens his mouth and then closes it, realizing he is close to making a confession. He clears his throat and turns partly away. “So basically you’re still not getting along that well.”

To Jim’s surprise, Leonard faces Spock and asks, “Did that sound suspicious to you?”

“If I had to infer his reaction based upon that statement, I would surmise that Jim prefers we do not have a cordial association despite any prior—and very vocal—objections.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Hey, now wait a minute, guys…”

“I mean, I thought, surely no one can be that hypocritical, let alone that much of a jackass, but—”

“You can’t call me a jackass, Bones!”

Leonard stalks toward him. “Then tell me, Jim, why did you just look as pleased as punch?”

“Uh.” Oops, maybe that hadn’t been the right thing to say after all. Jim starts a hasty backpedal. “I just meant that things aren’t as they seem! Over the last few weeks, I was worried—no, I mean, I saw that you were close. You had me convinced you were buddies.”

Leonard looks at him long and hard.

Spock uncrosses his arms. “Jim, may I ask you a question?”

“Is it a trick question?”

“Since when does Spock ask trick questions?” says Leonard sharply.

This is not good. Not good at all, especially given that Bones is jumping to the Vulcan’s defense. “You’re right. Forget I said that. Sure, Spock. Ask.”

“Why would I not be a suitable friend for Dr. McCoy?”

Jim doesn’t panic. Not under Klingon phaser fire, not when his ship is falling out of orbit and his crew are dying, not when Kodos’ man puts a rifle to his head and says, This one too?

But facing down Leonard and Spock in this moment brings him close to it. It’s all he can do to find words that won’t betray him: “You would be a good friend to him. An excellent friend, Spock.”

Out of the blue, Leonard leans back and nods like he has confirmed something. “And I would be an excellent friend to Spock.”

“Yes,” Jim replies, mouth going dry.

McCoy turns to the Vulcan. “A better friend, wouldn’t you say?”

Spock stares at Leonard for a long time before slowly lifting an eyebrow. “Affirmative. The question then becomes: why would a friendship would be necessary with our captain at all?”

Jim laughs. It’s not a steady sound. “Okay, enough! I get what you’re doing.”

“I doubt you do, Jim-boy. Spock and I just declared mutiny.”

“And now you’re going to take my ship? Try again, Bones. You know I won’t believe that.”

Leonard locks his hands behind his back and rocks backwards on his heels. “Who said anything about the ship? We’re just deciding that we don’t need you as a friend.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t we?”

“Fine.” Jim locks a smile into place. “Wonderful. Congratulations on your new Vulcan bestie. Glad we had this talk.”

Pointing at Jim, Leonard exclaims to Spock, “Did you see that?”

“Indeed I did.”

“Nothing to see,” Jim tells them tightly, moving for the exit to the Ready Room. “You’re dismissed.” He’s glad his legs are holding him up. He can make it as far as the chair. He knows he can.

Someone catches his arm.

“Hey,” Leonard says, his tone gentler yet firm enough that Jim stops to listen. “Jim. You could have said something.”

“I could say a lot of things,” Jim replies, bitter, “but most of it would be pointless anyway.”

“What’s that mean?”

He pulls Leonard’s hand from his arm. “Nothing, Bones. I shouldn’t have made a big deal out of this. I know that now.”

“Jim!”

Jim looks away, repeating in an unyielding tone, “I said dismissed, McCoy.”

Leonard sucks in a breath, but Jim doesn’t wait to hear anything else. He slips away to the Bridge.

~~~

“He’s being irrational.”

“That is why it is called an irrational fear, Dr. McCoy.” Spock comes to stand beside Leonard, and the Vulcan’s glance, though quick, is almost accusatory in nature. “Why did you not anticipate this reaction?”

Leonard sighs. “Contrary to belief, Spock, I don’t spend my time psycho-analyzing that man. If I did, there would never be room for anything else. He’s got more tricks and traps than a magician at a county fair.”

“You are his closest friend.”

“You’re pretty darn close to him too, you know, especially since—” Leonard swallows and doesn’t finish that statement. “My point is don’t place all the blame on me. You’ve been as blind as I have.”

Spock gives a slight nod.

Leonard sighs again and, after a little hesitating, lays a hand on the Vulcan’s arm. In all matters Jim, he is grateful that at least they can speak to each other candidly. “Listen, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault or mine. He has abandonment issues. We’ve always known that much, but still he’s particularly good at keeping it under wraps. I can tell you that I never would have guessed how he felt, Spock, because in the time since he and I have known each other, I’ve had other friends and haven’t heard so much as a peep out of him about it.” After a pause, he grumbles halfheartedly, “Leave it to Jim to think you’re the special one.”

Spock looks down at Leonard’s hand as if it is a thing to be studied. “That is not a compliment, Doctor.”

Leonard pulls away. “Sorry, I’m fresh out of them.”

“Apparently you had a small repertoire to begin with.”

The man snorts, then says somewhat thoughtfully, “We’re gettin’ better at this.”

“Yes.” Spock turns his gaze back to the closed Bridge door. “However it serves no purpose to exchange one familiarity for another.”

“Agreed. But how to fix it?” Leonard taps a finger against his mouth for a moment.

“We could apologize.”

“Sure, but then he’d convince himself it’s his fault that we gave up trying to get along.”

“Would we stop trying?” Spock sounds genuinely curious as he asks this question.

Leonard smiles a little at him. “Not really. You’re starting to grow on me, you know. And by the time Jim realizes he really does like it better when we’re all getting along, you and I will have worked out how to succeed at it.”

“That seems like a reasonable plan.”

Leonard’s smile widens. “I know it is, and I don’t need Noel’s handbook on Holding Conversations with Vulcans without Upsetting Nature to figure out how to go about it. Hell, if I could write my own handbook, then I’d—” Abruptly he stops there, holding his breath.

Spock shifts toward him. “Dr. McCoy?”

Leonard’s face lights up. “Spock!” he cries. “I have it!”

The Vulcan raises both eyebrows.

“I know how to make things right with Jim.”

Spock doesn’t ask him for details. He simply says, “Then we must do it.”

“You bet we will,” the doctor states. “Now, c’mon, time for work. I’ll comm you later on where to meet me.”

And so they exit the Ready Room together.

~~~

This is not indulging in a high-class cocktail in the off-duty hours. Jim knocks back his first glass of brandy with determination, quickly followed by a second, and grimaces at the sour taste left behind in his mouth.

What had he done?

Helen said don’t let it fester into misunderstanding. And didn’t he just screw that up?

But he couldn’t have said the words, those nasty little buggers borne of fear, disillusionment, and jealousy. He couldn’t admit that he wanted to be the one and only best friend because he was afraid of sharing. And, god, how selfish did that sound?

Jim reaches for the decanter to pour a third drink just as his cabin entrance chimes.

Bones, he thinks. Or Spock.

Probably both.

The chime sounds again, this time for several seconds longer.

Definitely at least Bones.

Jim wipes at his mouth and pushes his glass and the brandy to the opposite end of the table where it won’t be easily seen from the doorway. Then he goes to answer the summons because it isn’t likely the person will stop pestering him. He smells his breath on the way, deciding it won’t give him away.

The cabin door recedes into the wall and Jim stands awkwardly exposed by the corridor light filtering into his quarters.

“Jim,” Leonard begins then stops to frown, a tall Vulcan at his back. “…Have you been drinking?”

Jim resists a sigh. “Is your reason for this visit urgent, Dr. McCoy? If not, I’m not on duty and I’m quite busy.”

That seems to be the entirely wrong thing to say. Forgoing a rebuttal, Jim’s friend shoulders him aside and marches into the cabin uninvited.

“Spock,” Jim says sharply, but the Vulcan gives him nary a glance before following on McCoy’s heels.

“Thought so,” mutters the doctor, picking up the bottle of bluish colored liquor. “A little early in the evening to be knocking back a few rounds, isn’t it, Jim?”

Jim takes the bottle from him, nonplussed. “What I do is my business.”

“Not to your physician and your first officer.”

So that’s how they want to play this? Jim’s mouth tips up at one corner. “Actually, it might be relevant to my friends, but I don’t seem to have those anymore.”

“That is the stupidest thing you have ever said,” Leonard replies flatly. “Spock, the chair.”

Spock pulls out a chair at the table.

“Sit down,” Jim is ordered.

Jim widens his stance and crosses his arms. “No.”

“This isn’t a game, Jim. Sit down.”

“I said no.”

“Jim,” Spock urges quietly, lending his voice to the command.

“Better do it,” advises Leonard. “Otherwise I’ll convince Spock to put you down Vulcan-style.”

“You wouldn’t!” Jim’s neck muscle twitches, already feeling the ghostly pressure of a pinch.

Leonard meets and holds his gaze. “Try me.”

Damn. Bones isn’t bluffing. Jim blows out a breath and drops into a careless sprawl in the chair.

Spock and Leonard sit on either side of him, effectively trapping him in. His dislike for this situation is growing by the minute.

“What is it?” he demands, thinking to hurry this chat along. He knows it won’t make a difference.

“We’re not going to talk,” Leonard declares, surprising Jim. He nods at Spock, who produces a data padd and a stylus and sets them down in front of Jim.

“We’re going to be friends,” Leonard goes on to say. “All three of us. So write out your terms.”

“What?” He’s fairly certain that he heard McCoy wrong.

“Write out your terms,” the man beside him repeats. When Jim doesn’t pick up the stylus, the man huffs and drags the padd and stylus his way and activates the screen of a word processor. While Jim watches him, still puzzling over what Bones actually means to accomplish, Leonard scratches out a long sentence and then signs his name under it. He slides the padd back in front of Jim.

It reads: I will remain friends with James Tiberius Kirk regardless of circumstance, conflicting interests, or other relationships until such time as he declares our friendship null and void.

Jim has to read it twice. “Is this a joke?”

“I don’t sign my jokes, kid.” Leonard looks across the table to Spock. “It’s binding, right?”

“Affirmative, although it is… quaint,” Spock adds, having read the passage over Jim’s shoulder, “and somewhat childish in nature. It would still be legally binding.”

“You can’t legally bind friendships!” exclaims Jim.

“Why the hell not?” counters Leonard. “This is my oath that I am your friend, Jim. If you don’t accept this, then I don’t know how else to convince you that I’m serious.”

Jim starts to shake his head.

“And I’ll also take it that you don’t want me as a friend anymore, in which case I guess I’m gonna be heartbroken enough to resign my commission. You know I’m only out here because you asked me to be your CMO.”

Man, that’s a low blow and Bones knows it. Still, Jim finds himself hesitantly picking up the stylus. “Do I sign under your name?”

“That would suffice,” Spock replies.

Jim presses his mouth into a thin line as he reads the sentence again. He sets the tip of the stylus to the padd just as McCoy cries, “Wait a second!” and then snatches it away.

“Bones?”

Leonard takes the stylus back too and scribbles something else on the padd. Then he hands everything to Jim again, seeming frighteningly pleased with himself.

There are additions:

I will remain friends with James Tiberius Kirk regardless of circumstance, conflicting interests, or other relationships until such time as he declares our friendship null and void, and given the following stipulations that James T. Kirk:
i) acknowledges when his friends are right and he is wrong
ii) never drinks alone
iii) obeys the wisdom of his physician and EATS ALL HIS VEGETABLES WITHOUT HIDING THEM IN HIS NAPKIN.

“Fascinating,” murmurs Spock.

“Our friendship should not have conditions.”

Leonard looks smug. “Sign it.”

With narrowed eyes, Jim curls his arm around the side of the padd so Leonard can’t see it and hunches over the device to make a new declaration.

When he returns it to McCoy, he is equally smug.

I will remain friends with Leonard Horatio McCoy regardless of circumstance, conflicting interests, or other relationships until such time as he declares our friendship null and void and ONLY IF he lets me call him Sourpatch, stops jabbing me viciously with hypos, never ever ever ever locks me out of his quarters even when he hates all life in the universe, and takes a holopic with me and Spock on every shore leave.

Jim has signed it.

Leonard purses his mouth. His only comment is “I look awful in holopics.”

Jim stares at him a short second before signing his name to Leonard’s oath as well. Leonard takes the stylus from him and signs his name under Jim’s demands.

Then they turn to Spock.

Spock blinks back but makes no move to take the proffered device.

“It’s only fair,” Leonard says.

“Aw, c’mon, Spock,” Jim urges him. “It’s for fun.”

Still, he stares at them.

Leonard says to Jim, “Better make it a good one, kid.”

Jim nods, already writing on the padd. When he’s done, he hands it back to Leonard, who signs it without comment and passes it along to Spock.

Jim had written: May the bond of friendship between S’chn T’gai Spock and myself prosper until such time that is absolved.

“There are no conditions,” remarks the Vulcan in a soft tone.

“Why should there be?” Jim asks. “We like you as you are.”

“Yeah, whereas Jim and I are fixer-ups, you’re a pretty good deal.”

“Hey there, Sourpatch, speak for yourself.”

“Shut up, kid.”

Jim is feeling much, much better. Why had he been intent on getting drunk? It is possible he may have overreacted to a few things.

They watch as Spock prints his name in Vulcan script under theirs. Then he does the same thing beneath the other two statements.

“So it’s settled then,” Leonard states. “No more crap about who’s friends with whom.”

“Got it,” Jim agrees.

“Thank god,” says Leonard, leaning along the table to retrieve Jim’s decanter of Saurian brandy. “I need a drink. Feels like I just sold my soul.”

“Aw, Bones,” Jim replies, slipping an arm around the man’s shoulders, “don’t worry. Spock and I will take good care of it.”

The man makes a rude noise.

“In return,” Jim adds playfully, “you get to take care of mine and Spock’s!”

“Christ, that’s the last thing I need—to be entrusted with Spock’s mortal soul.”

Their third companion tilts his head ever-so-slightly. “I would have hope that such a thing would benefit you, Doctor, but I believe even the katra of a Vulcan could not stem the flood of illogic of which your mind is comprised.”

Leonard’s glass hits the table with a thunk. “Why you green-blooded—”

“Compliments,” the Vulcan retorts smartly.

“Screw the damn compliments! Being nice to you is too hard and you know it, you smug bastard! There are a whole list of things I’ve been wanting to say to you…”

Spock folds his hands across the tabletop, the glint in his dark eyes reflected in Leonard’s. “I have gathered as much. You may proceed, Dr. McCoy.”

Leonard leans in, drink forgotten, and does just that.

While the conversation going on around Jim gets louder (on Bones’ half) and wittier (Spock’s), with a small smile Jim draws the data padd closer to the edge of the table and taps away upon it. He makes copies of the contract to send out, one to his personal padd, another to a remote console back on Earth, and another to hide inside the ship’s databanks, and yet another to send to a top-secret known-only-to-Jim-Kirk location where he backs up the most precious of documents…

“Jim?”

He looks up at the sound of his name, realizing that Spock and Bones had ceased to indulge in a long-awaited verbal spar when his attention strayed.

“What’re you doing?” Leonard asks.

“Just backing up the file,” he says.

“Oh geez. Where are you storing it? If that gets out…”

“No worries, Bones.” He scrolls through some of his hasty coding, showing it to the man. “I only forwarded it to a couple of places. My cabin, Spock’s,” he reads off the list, “my apartment on Earth, Scotty—”

Spock jerks slightly forward.

“Wait,” Jim implores of his friends before they can speak, “hold on, that can’t be right!”

But there is it, by accident, the net address of Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott.

Jim’s eyes grow wide. He handed over their snarky, elementary schoolish BFFs contract to Scotty. “Um,” he forces himself to admit out loud, “yeah, I may have accidentally sent a copy to him.”

Leonard makes a hair-raising noise and leaps across the table. Whether he’s aiming for Jim or the padd is unclear. Jim doesn’t wait to find out. He dives sideways out of his chair and makes a run for it.

“JIM!” he hears behind him.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Jim dashes into the bathroom and frantically punches the close button on the interior lock mechanism, certain he’s about to be torn into pieces. “Scotty won’t even read it, I swear!”

As the door closes, it’s Leonard’s enraged face he sees up-close through the gap. Then the door is shut, and a loud thud hits it from the opposite side as Jim’s pursuer connects with the solid paneling.

Jim rakes a hand through his hair, cursing.

Why, oh why, he thinks, stabbing at the padd screen futilely, would anyone invent a messaging system without a recall function!

~~~

“Personal Log, Helen Marie Noel.

We’re en route to the nearest starbase for the Captain’s promised shore leave. This will surely be a good thing for everyone aboard, myself included, as the ship’s morale has been on a marginal decline for several weeks. Although, within the last three days there has been a significant upbeat in the general mood. I didn’t mention this in my official log, of course, because I wouldn’t want to embarrass anyone, but…”

Laughing is heard.

“Last night I received the cutest petition to befriend Captain Kirk! Rumor has it there are two similar ones going around for Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock. They were originally part of a single contract—written with some interesting language, I’m told—but it had to be split up because of the sheer volume of crewmen wanting to sign their names and add comments. Now, I could speculate how this document came into existence but that would negate the fun of it. Suffice to say, I did manage to squeeze my name and a smiley face onto a corner of Jim’s petition and did my duty by forwarding it on to a few colleagues.

I believe this will make a nice case study for the future. At the moment I would hypothesize that Mr. Spock will receive the most signatures and fewest comments—mainly because people will be excited at a chance to show he is a favorite among the command staff but also will wish to respect his Vulcan dignity by keeping it clean. Kirk will, of course, have the most addendums to the friendship clause, many of which will be ridiculous enough and rude enough to delight him to no end. What a strange man that one is! And McCoy…”

Laughter comes again, lower this time.

“Well, by vote he has been awarded Sexiest Crew Member Aboard three years running. Not that he knows anything about those contests which occur on the lower decks… So I daresay we will catch our country doctor quite by surprise!

On a different note, I am pleased to see that these stubborn men are finally on their way to a long, lovely and solid friendship.

Now if only I could get my handbook back—I have new sections to write!”

The End

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• Friendly Conspiracy (1/2) – from July 18, 2014

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