0Title: Bordering Warm (2/2)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: pre-Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: It’s hot enough to be summertime on Earth, except they’re on a starship in the coldness of space. Somebody has tampered with Environmental, and oddly the captain of the ship is not upset about it at all.
Previous Part: 1
“Psst.”
From the single bed and beneath a blanket, there comes a mutter, something like go away, but the voice near the covered man’s ear is insistent. “Psst,” it hisses.
Jim yanks down the blanket with a snarl. “What now? I don’t need another shot!”
It isn’t a doctor or nurse who has come to plague him, he realizes almost immediately.
The man bent over Kirk tugs at the surgical mask concealing the lower part of his face. “Well, that’s rude.”
Jim identifies him in disbelief. “Scotty?”
“Aye,” the Chief Engineer confirms before nervously taking in his surroundings. His voice drops another pitch. “But can ye not alert the entire bay that it’s me?”
Jim levers up onto his elbows so he can see the entirety of his visitor’s outfit. “What are you wearing?”
“Think it’s from a surgery kit,” murmurs Scott.
Kirk’s disbelief only grows. “But why?”
Pressing his mouth flat, the man looks like he wants to chastise his captain. But he only says, “Because if I walk in here looking like myself, she’ll find me.”
“You’ve lost me,” admits the man in the bed. “Who are you hiding from?”
Once again Scott’s gaze flits around the bay, his countenance that of an extremely nervous man. “I don’t know how the lass found out but she did.” When Kirk’s brows draw together questioningly, he clarifies, “Uhura knows,” then, with more suspicion, demands, “Did you tip her off it was me who fiddled with that control board?”
“Scotty, I would never do that,” Jim answers gravely. He takes a hold of the engineer’s arm. “Look, if that’s the case, you can’t be here. Uhura has friends in Sick—”
They both freeze as Chapel’s voice rings out across the ward.
Scott swallows hard. “Aye, I know, but I had to take the chance. Capt’n, we must have been mad to do what we did! And to think we could get away with it…” His voice falters momentarily, returning with more urgency. “Please, you have to help me!”
Jim squeezes the arm under his hand comfortingly. “Hide in my quarters.”
“Tried that,” Scott mutters miserably. “She got in by way of Mr. Spock’s quarters. If I hadn’t been in the main cabin looking for your whiskey, I wouldnae have made it out in time.”
“Damn.”
“Jim, ye know this ship as well as I do. Where do you hide that sometimes even I cannae find ye for the Doctor or Mr. Spock?”
Jim hesitates but acknowledges that not just as a captain but as a friend he owes Scott for the trouble they have gotten into. He tugs the man forward, right until his mouth is by Scott’s ear—and whispers the location of the secret hideaway.
Scott pulls back, his eyes wide, and whistles. “No wonder I never had any luck during those searches! Thank you, Jim,” the man says earnestly. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome. Now get out of here before—”
“Captain. Captain!”
Scott’s head starts to jerk around at Nurse Chapel’s call, the nurse herself now approaching their corner of the ward with a business-like stride.
Kirk makes a snap decision, giving his friend a solid, forceful push in the opposite direction and the sharp command of “Go now, Mr. Scott!” Then Kirk rolls toward the nurse, smiling dumbly—and gracelessly falls off the side of his biobed into an undignified heap.
“Captain Kirk!” Chapel gasps, startled. The nurse hurries to his side, wanting to know if he is all right. After checking him over, she assists Jim from the floor back to sitting on the bed, asking what happened. But before he can answer any of her questions, the woman frowns past his shoulder at the figure in medical scrubs in the distance, fleeing in such a hurry that he causes others in the ward to scatter out of his way.
Kirk breaks into a coughing fit until the nurse’s attention returns to him.
After helping him sip from a glass of water, she inquires, “Who was that, Captain?”
“Just a concerned crewman,” Jim replies dismissively, lying back against his pillow.
“Ah,” Chapel murmurs, oddly enough asking nothing more about the mysterious visitor. Then she rallies herself to cluck reprovingly at the man. “Dr. McCoy was specific with his orders, sir. You need to rest without interruption.”
“Good ol’ Bones,” Kirk agrees amiably. “What would I do without him?”
Chapel smiles. “Since you feel that way, I’ll tell him you want him to stop by in person for the next check-up.”
Jim winces. “And what are the chances he won’t bring along a hypospray of some kind to give me?”
She laughs and tucks the rumpled blanket securely around her patient’s legs. Then, after notating something on a handheld padd from the monitor above Kirk’s biobed, the nurse moves on to another patient.
Jim settles under the blanket with a sigh, closing his eyes to await the inevitable arrival of his CMO. That he’s smiling as he does so is a surprise to no one in the near vicinity.
~~~
The doctor transfers his gaze from the chart to Kirk at last. “You’re recovering as expected.”
Jim perks up, hopeful now.
“I suppose,” the man drawls more slowly, “I can release you.”
Kirk firmly believes in positive reinforcement. He reaches forward to grab McCoy’s hands. “Bones, you’re amazing. Of course I’m fully recovered!”
McCoy jerks his hands back. “Fully recovered, my sainted aunt! Captain, if I wanted to keep you until then, you’d be in here two more days!”
Jim’s mouth drops open, but he cannot think of anything to say to that. He lets his wilting frame speak for itself.
Raking a hand through his hair, McCoy huffs out his annoyance. “Kid… All right, stop with the kicked-puppy impression. I am letting you go.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Jim says, meaning it.
McCoy adds, “I’ll stop by to check on you when my shift is over.”
Jim slides out of bed and, when that risky venture causes no immediate negative reaction, lays a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Bones, you said a moment ago I’m doing better. You don’t need to—” He stops when McCoy looks at him a certain way. “Never mind. Come over anytime. My door’s always open for you.”
The doctor nods once, stepping back. But just as Kirk turns away, McCoy reminds him, “No detours. No strenuous activities. Straight to your quarters to rest. If you don’t obey your doctor’s orders this time, I’ll have you put back in this bed so fast, you’ll get whiplash.”
“Understood,” he mutters. Shoulders hunched, the captain hurries out of Sickbay as quickly as his legs will carry him. His posture straightens once he arrives in the corridor, and his mood lightens.
It only occurs to Kirk later that his usual escort from Sickbay had been missing. Had McCoy called Spock, and Spock refused to come?
Doesn’t matter, he decides, sobered by the fact. Spock demanded an explanation, and now that Jim is far enough along the road to recovery such that even his physician agrees that is the case, Spock will make good on his word. It’s only a matter of time—at most, hours—before they cross paths.
~~~
The door leading to the corridor slides back, for a moment casting a silhouette of his second-in-command in parade rest across the floor of his quarters’ main cabin. Then Spock strides inside—but quickly comes to an abrupt halt.
The Vulcan starts with “Capt—” only to correct himself to an emphatic “Jim.”
Straightening away from the desk he had been leaning over in order to study his computer screen, Kirk turns around.
Spock’s face is stony.
“What’s wrong?” Jim demands, starting forward.
After a moment, the Vulcan’s gaze travels the length of Kirk’s torso.
The captain stills, looking down at himself. “Oh,” he says, understanding immediately. But rather than reacting with embarrassment like any normal person, he smirks. “Ah, c’mon. You’ve seen me without a shirt before.”
“Only when circumstances required it.”
Kirk doesn’t know whether or not he wants to be offended by that bland remark. He counters, “I’m not the one who picked this time to visit.”
“Yet you did bid me enter, aware that you were in a state of undress.”
Actually, he had forgotten about his bare chest but there is no way he’ll admit that to Spock now.
A bark of laughter comes from the sleeping area, followed by a head poking itself around the wall partition of the bedroom—McCoy’s.
“Jim, stop making others uncomfortable. Cover yourself.”
One of Spock’s eyebrows goes up.
McCoy goes on, “Don’t mind him, Spock. He thinks he’s got something to show off—”
Jim flushes.
“—when he doesn’t.”
Puffing up with indignation, Kirk spins around to face McCoy. “Bones.”
The doctor rolls his eyes. “Oh, spare me. I’m a doctor. I’ve seen better.” The man grins suddenly. “Him, for one,” he declares, pointing at their guest.
Jim spins back the other way.
Spock’s other eyebrow has joined its twin. When Kirk looks the man over, his gaze narrowing considerably, Spock merely blinks. Kirk takes that as the Vulcan way of saying, I’m not inclined to appease your curiosity.
McCoy finally joins them in the main room, handing Kirk a tunic in the process. “If you two are done squabbling, why don’t we sit down and have a conversation like adults?” He leads the way to the couch.
Letting go of a fight goes against the grain for Kirk even when he’s on the losing side, but McCoy has a point. Donning the tunic, Jim settles on the couch’s arm on the end farthest from the chair which is Spock’s seat of choice. About equal distance from both, McCoy plops down on the couch with a gusty sigh.
Spock looks at Jim, placing his hands on his knees. Jim returns the stare, folding his arms across his chest.
“What a long day,” McCoy announces, sighing again. “I could use a nap.”
Spock turns his impassive gaze on the doctor. “Would it not be more prudent to retire to your quarters, Doctor?”
For some reason, McCoy looks amused.
Jim isn’t. He bristles. “He’s always welcome here.”
“Now hold on,” interjects the man in question, his tone sharp as he turns on Kirk. “Spock’s welcome here too.”
Jim opens his mouth, only to close it shortly thereafter with a nod. “He is.”
Spock is considering him again. At least, Jim notes, Spock’s “Thank you, Jim” sounds sincere.
“Lord, you two,” mutters the doctor in the middle. “All right. Let’s get this over with,” causing Kirk and Spock to focus their attention on him again. “Somebody say something,” McCoy insists when the pair continues to stare at him.
“I believe Jim and I would prefer that you begin the discussion.” Spock flicks a glance to Kirk before adding, “As it appears you know best why we are here.”
McCoy drawls, “Seems to me, Spock, the person with the grievance should go first.”
The Vulcan’s tone cools considerably. “Very well. Explain why you caused the temperature controls of the ship to operate incorrectly.”
Jim has to know, “Will our answer determine whether or not you will file a formal complaint?”
“Affirmative.”
Unexpected but impossible to ignore, a wave of anger burns through Kirk. He comes to his feet, demanding, “Do you trust us so little? Do you really think we would act without good cause?”
Spock’s posture stiffens minutely. “I came here expecting—hoping,” the Vulcan amends, “your actions are entirely excusable. It gives me no pleasure to confront either of you on this matter. Were it not for my duties as First Officer, it is unlikely we would speak of what occurred.”
McCoy sits forward, looking shocked. “Spock, is that true?”
When Spock looks to the doctor, his hard stare wavers the slightest bit. “Yes, of course. Vulcans do not lie.”
McCoy twists around to stare up at Kirk. “Jim, did you hear that?”
“I heard,” Jim replies cautiously, not at all certain he comprehended Spock’s explanation in the same way the other man did—especially now that McCoy’s eyes are shining with pleasure.
“Spock is on our side,” McCoy says.
Spock starts.
Jim’s temper fizzles out of confusion. “Huh?”
McCoy breaks into a grin. “He just said he wouldn’t fuss at us if he wasn’t beholden to his oath.”
It takes a few seconds to even think up a response to that. “Bones,” Jim hazards, “maybe Spock was saying he would rather not know why we did something so reckless.”
“The hell he did!” argues the doctor, pursing his mouth. “Clearly this man is our friend. He likes us.”
Spock has been switching his gaze between Kirk and McCoy like he doesn’t know quite what to say—or with whom to agree—without making their conversation more awkward. His gaze finally stops at a midway point in compromise, something clearly occupying his thoughts.
An idea pops into Kirk’s head. “Spock has a point, Bones. I think he should tell us if we were justified in our actions.”
The Vulcan blinks then cocks his head at Jim as though he senses an ulterior motive.
Kirk just smiles thinly. “But you know, I have to wonder how he will feel knowing we did it for him.”
McCoy hisses through his teeth before turning to Spock. “It’s not as horrible as it sounds.”
Spock continues staring at Jim. He does sound faintly horrified. “You created an inhospitable work environment to please me?”
“We want you to be happy,” Jim confirms.
At the Vulcan’s lack of response, McCoy jumps up from the couch. He positions himself right in front of the man, blocking Kirk and Spock’s view of each other. “Spock—no, don’t look like that. Jim is… is being indelicate.”
Behind McCoy, Jim simply folds his arms over his chest, ready to watch this scenario play out.
“Indelicate or otherwise, has he not spoken the truth, Doctor?”
“Yes, but…” McCoy lays a hand against his own chest. “The blame lies with me. Remember that last time I called Jim to Sickbay, saying I wanted to show him something? That something was about you.” The man’s face reddens. “Spock, I…”
McCoy’s hesitation spurs the Vulcan to offer the gentle encouragement, “Go on.”
“I’ve been monitoring your vitals. Off the record.”
“Why?”
“I thought there was a reason to be concerned,” murmurs the doctor. “I heard from a colleague of mine that ‘Fleet ships aren’t highly spoken of by Vulcans because they aren’t… comfortable. So I thought,” he adds, his voice becoming softer, less certain, “I should find out for myself if you weren’t acclimating to our environment.”
McCoy’s concern for others is a beautiful thing, thinks Jim. Because of that, there isn’t much he needs to do at this point.
Spock confirms the impression by rising from his chair to lock his hands behind his back. The action also carries him a step closer to McCoy. “Did it occur to you that you might ask me if I felt uncomfortable?”
McCoy shakes his head. “I figured you wouldn’t give me a straight answer.”
Spock studies the man with a slight tilt of his head.
Jim raises a fist to his mouth to hide a smile, then clears his throat. He glides around McCoy to stand adjacent to both men. “I can supply this next part, Mr. Spock. McCoy brought his concerns and the data to support it to me. I suggested how we might help you.”
“Help?” repeats the Vulcan.
“Help you feel more comfortable on the ship,” Kirk clarifies. “Tell me, was your productivity affected by the increase in temperature on the bridge that day?” When Spock doesn’t answer right away, Jim goes on, “From my observation, it appeared as though you were quite… focused on performing your duties.”
“Affirmative,” comes the reply, at length. “It would seem, then, the objective of your plan was achieved.” Spock looks from Kirk to McCoy. “But why would the comfort of one being justify risking the health of several others?”
McCoy’s face flames, and a spark comes into the doctor’s eyes that makes Jim grimace.
McCoy explodes, “Why, I have half a mind to walk right out of this room, Mr. Spock! No wonder Jim was so riled up earlier. You do think we put the crew at risk like a couple of buffoons!”
Jim tsks. “It seems somebody didn’t do his research.”
Spock releases his hands as if to reach for one of them; after a moment, his arms come to rest at his sides. “Captain. Doctor. You must explain to me what I do not understand.”
McCoy crosses his arms. “Oh, I’ll explain all right, you green-blooded hobgoblin. Just because Jim and I like you doesn’t mean we’re incapable of thinking past our attraction.”
Kirk clamps his mouth shut to keep from laughing at Spock’s expression.
McCoy continues on, seeming oblivious to his confession. “If you took the time to figure out where the temperature was fluctuating, if you looked into the immediate alerts that went out and who they went to and if those crewmen had a safe place to go to avoid health complications, there’s no way you would be asking us how we could jeopardize this ship. The short answer is we didn’t. We minimized the risk until it was at an acceptable level for both Jim and myself. I had my staff making house calls in all the affected areas. Jim helped coordinate the handing out of the hydration supplies—” His gaze flicks to Kirk. “—although he could have done a better job of using them on himself. Frankly, Spock, I’m insulted you don’t know us better.”
Spock seems eager to agree. “I see. Doctor, I think you are correct in all aspects of your argument.”
McCoy’s expression changes from righteous anger to flabbergasted, looking positively stumped to hear Spock say he is right.
Jim, on the other hand, isn’t buying it. “What does that mean?”
“In short, that I failed to realize you and Dr. McCoy would enact such an unnecessary scheme based on an emotional attachment.”
McCoy says sharply, “Unnecessary?”
Jim cannot help but argue back, “That’s because we’re emotionally attached to you!”
“Ah yes,” says the unperturbed Vulcan, his arms now folded across his chest. “Shall we discuss this attachment in more detail?”
When both humans open their mouths but no remark is forthcoming, Spock merely raises an eyebrow at them before pressing on. “I have no appointments for the remainder of the evening. Would you care to have dinner with me?”
McCoy starts coughing. Jim chokes.
“Spock,” he asks, needing to know, “why does it seem like you aren’t surprised?”
Spock raises his other eyebrow. “Surprised, Jim? That is a human reaction.”
“Oh no,” McCoy butts in. “Don’t you start with the ‘it is logical’ bit.”
“I shall not attempt to, Doctor, as this entire discourse has been irrefutably illogical from the beginning. However,” Spock goes on after a pause, “I am not unappreciative of this… unique motive of yours. In fact, I find it fascinating. Therefore I am willing to be enlightened further on the matter.”
Kirk turns to McCoy. “I think that was his logical way of saying ‘I like you too.'”
“He could’ve just said that,” harrumphs Kirk’s partner.
“I like you,” Spock says dutifully.
Jim’s grin must be catching because all of a sudden McCoy is grinning broadly too.
Jim responds formally, “We accept, Mr. Spock,” as the doctor resumes his former position on the couch, this time with a sigh that is more content than aggrieved.
“Somebody order that dinner,” McCoy tells them. “And leave off the dessert. My teeth are aching as it is.”
Jim trades a look with Spock before heading over to his desk to do his doctor’s bidding.
In the meantime, Spock takes a seat next to McCoy on the couch. “May I ask,” Jim hears him say, “if you and Jim have considered a more sustainable solution to your observation than tampering with Environmental?”
“Oh, I believe we’re already working on that next plan,” is McCoy’s impish answer. “How opposed are you to sharing body heat, Spock?”
~~~
A twinkle in his eyes, Jim Kirk smiles and stuffs his hands into his pants pockets. “Long story short, since the trouble with Mr. Spock is fixed, now I am able to assist with your problem, Scotty.”
“Problem? I don’t have a problem,” the engineer insists.
“You’ve been hiding in that tube for two days.”
“Well…”
Kirk clears his throat. “Lieutenant, you can come out now.”
Scott gasps when Nyota Uhura steps into view.
“Monty,” the woman says, clearly exasperated, “get down here.”
“Betrayer!” the Chief Engineer cries to his captain. “How could you—!”
Jim flaps a hand. “See, I fixed it. Now Uhura knows why Bones and I asked you to break the ship.” He tells the woman, “It wasn’t Scotty’s fault.”
Uhura rolls her eyes. Then she goes up on her toes and snags the sleeve of Scott’s uniform. The man flails his captured arm but otherwise is unable to retreat into the vent system.
Shaking his head, Jim leaves the pair to their personal business, as he has faith that his romantic tale will help others in their own ventures. Halfway to the main shaft, he begins to whistle a tune that carries up and down the Jeffries tube. “Spock,” he calls after he flips open a communicator, “fetch Bones. Operation Setup-A-Engineer is complete, but Scotty may need some medical attention after Uhura is done with him.”
“Acknowledged. We are on our way, Captain.”
The End
Related Posts:
- Bordering Warm (1/2) – from November 28, 2017
