Title: Along Comes a Stranger (6/?)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: AU. Jim’s life in Riverside is uncomplicated until two men, both equally mysterious and compelling, arrive in town, bringing with them the promise of change.
Previous Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Part Five went up yesterday. Please read it first if you have not. This had to follow immediately because I dreamt the entire chapter last night and had to write it while it was fresh in my mind.

Part Six

“What the hell is the matter with you!?”

McCoy stabs a finger dangerously close to Jim’s eyeball. Jim tries to calm the building storm that is McCoy in a rage. “Bones…”

“No!” Jim catches Leonard’s arm when the man spins away to stomp down the sidewalk in glorious fury.

“Bones, c’mon—just come inside for a minute.”

McCoy bares his teeth. “You’re God-damned nuisance, do you know that, Jim?”

Jim makes soothing noises as he tugs the stubborn Leonard through the front door of the Riverside Medical Clinic. “It’ll be fine, Bones. You said you’re a doctor…”

“What I said was in confidence, you monkey brain. I quit that career. I—”

“Jim!” A woman’s voice interrupts their argument. A young blonde, shoulder-length hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, waves at the pair of men from behind the reception desk. Jim doesn’t dare let go of Leonard’s arm and propels them toward her, calling out, “Hey there, Chapel.”

He grins and indicates McCoy with his thumb. “This sour face is McCoy.”

Christine Chapel, nurse practitioner of Riverside Medical Clinic, looks McCoy over. “So this is the real McCoy. Jim says you have great credentials.”

“Jim is the equivalent of a snake-charmer. Look… Chapel? I don’t know what this fool told you but I’m not a doctor.”

“I’m Christine Chapel.” She holds out her hand to McCoy, unperturbed by his words. Jim watches with no small amount of satisfaction as Leonard grimaces at being cornered and shakes her hand.

Jim says, “Is Mark around?”

Chapel smiles. “I reminded him about the interview this morning. If you will have a seat, Dr. McCoy, I’ll call you when Dr. Piper has a moment to talk.”

Leonard sputters. “Interview? Damn it, Jim, we were going to the diner. You said—“

“And we will,” Jim tells him, “right after you talk to Mark. The man needs a helping hand around here. He’s ancient, Bones. He was my mom’s doctor when she was a kid.”

Leonard falls into the seat next to Jim, sulking. Jim ignores him and watches as Christine helps an elderly man to his feet and leads him down the hallway to an examination room.

“They’re always short-staffed,” Jim comments, knowing Bones is listening despite the man’s closed eyes and frowning mouth. “The nearest hospital is thirty miles south of Riverside. I won’t say we get a lot of freak accidents—“ He doesn’t mention that he used to be a regular clinic patient. “—but there are still the occasional emergencies. I know you were probably working your way into some fancy practice, Bones, but you can still help people—except with a cut in salary.”

“Jim, you’re not getting it.”

He turns and looks at McCoy. “You need the money. You can do the work. What else is there?” He adds, “I can’t afford to keep you up.”

Leonard takes his joke seriously. “I am not asking you to, Jim.”

“No, but whatever cash you have won’t last forever.”

“Jim, I am not going to work here. It’s not that simple. A doctor has to have experience and references. He is an investment, not solely for the clinic or hospital hiring him but for every patient he tends.”

Jim sighs. “Did you finish your residency?”

“Yes.”

“What about where you worked last?”

Now McCoy’s jaw tightens. “I don’t want to think about them, let alone ask anything of them.”

Kirk wants to throw up his hands, he really does. “Don’t be ridiculous! You worked there, bisexual or not—“

“Jim!” hisses McCoy.

He stubbornly continues. “—and if you were half as good as I think you probably are, they can’t deny that.”

“Sure they can.”

“Well, if they are decent people, they won’t. Besides, you have test scores and certifications and a degree. That counts.”

“Kid, just… no, okay?” McCoy begins to rise but Jim reaches over and pins one of the man’s arms to the chair. McCoy growls.

Jim wonders if Bones would actually attempt to bite him in public but is saved from finding out when a nurse scurries toward them.

Jim relaxes and beams at Janice. “Did Christine herd Mark into his office already?”

“Nope. But he said he’ll see Dr. McCoy in Exam Room 3.”

Jim says, “Fair enough” and points McCoy in the right direction. “Go on, Bones.”

When McCoy rises but stands in place, looking mutinous, Jim pulls out his big guns. “It’s either this or having a heart-to-heart with Spockie-poo,” he says cheerfully.

McCoy’s hand gesture is crude as Jan kindly leads the doctor away.

Jim leans into his seat, not at all surprised when Janice returns quickly. She looks at him, nervously running a hand down the length of her hip. “It’s good to see you, Jim,” she says.

“And you, Jan. How’s Kevin?”

Her arms go lax, dropping to her sides, and her mouth quirks almost ruefully. “You always know how to kill a girl’s dream, don’t you?”

“You’re married,” he says pointedly. “Flirting with me is fine but you know I am not a homewrecker.”

“That’s not what my dad thinks.”

“Your old man is an asshole.” Jim regrets those words the moment they come out of his mouth. “Shit, I didn’t mean that.”

Janice just shakes her head. “Yes you did, Jim.”

He grimaces. “Can we pretend I didn’t, though?”

“All right,” she agrees. “I need to check on Ms. Humphreys anyway.” But Janice hesitates as she steps back.

Jim tries to ignore the warning in his gut.

“Jimmy,” she asks, “how come it never worked out between us?”

They had been Senior Prom King and Queen. Their school friends expected them to work out; hell, the whole town had expected that they would stay together, marry, and have kids. Jim, however, couldn’t take that kind of pressure, not when he was certain he didn’t know what he wanted for himself. Jan’s father breathing down his neck hadn’t helped either; it had made him run away all the faster.

He can’t say you weren’t what I was looking for. For all her faults, Janice Rand—now Mrs. Janice Riley—is a good person. Instead he says, “You deserve better than me, Jan. Trust me on that.”

Her expression says that she trusted him before—with her heart—and that didn’t turn out well at all. Jim knows there is nothing he can do but apologize. Like always, “I’m sorry” makes her retreat, eyes pained. Jim wishes he could fix their estrangement but he can’t. He is just a machine mechanic and no more.

Bones is gone longer than Jim anticipates. In fact, at the forty-five minute mark Jim has finished reading all the children’s Highlight magazines and is at a sufficient height of paranoia from being watched intently by a five year-old picking his nose. Said five year-old climbs to his feet and begins wobbling toward Jim with an ominous look. Jim jumps up to his feet, prepared to bolt to Dr. Piper’s office to hide, when a savior swoops in from the street.

With a heartfelt “Uhura!” Jim hastily drapes his arm around her shoulder and gives her a desperate look.

Uhura narrows her eyes as she pulls her scarf from her neck. “Why are you here?”

“Me? No reason!” Jim widens his eyes. “What about you? Why are you here?”

She shrugs out from under his arm and strides to the reception desk. Jim glances over his shoulder at the toddler (who returns the stare, back to picking his nose) and hastily follows Uhura. Not a minute later, Christine appears in regular clothes—a pair of jeans and a brightly colored blouse—and they greet one another before turning to stare at Jim, the interloper.

He feels like he ought to raise his hands peremptorily in surrender. Then Uhura rolls her eyes and leans against the reception desk. “Chris,” she begins enthusiastically, “wait until I tell you about Pavel.”

Christine is scribbling a few notes on a pad by the phone. “Isn’t Pavel the new kitchen boy? Please don’t tell me Hikaru has run him off already!”

“Oh, not at all. I think Hikaru likes him,” Uhura says, and the women catch each other’s eyes and grin.

Jim sidles closer, trying to unobtrusively be party to the gossip fest. Uhura pokes his stomach with her elbow without turning around. “Don’t breathe on my neck, Kirk,” she warns him.

He mumbles an apology before asking curiously, “What about Pavel?”

Chapel says, “Jim always finds out eventually. Tell us, Nyota.” Christine is more generous-hearted than Uhura, Jim decides.

“First, Pavel lives at the Star.”

Jim nods, though he didn’t really know that. It makes sense, though.

Uhura glances around the waiting area of the clinic, which only has a handful of people. “Why don’t we go?” Her voice drops to a hushed quality. “I can tell you both at lunch.”

Jim shakes his head. “I’m waiting on Bones.”

Uhura’s eyebrows rise. He grins.

“I’ll tell you about Bones if you tell me about Pavel.”

Her look is shrewd. “Deal. So, like I was saying, Pavel is at the Star but apparently he’s not alone. Hikaru dropped him off after closing one night, and he swore he saw a girl waving from a motel window at Pavel. She was young, not even a teenager, he said.”

Uhura has both Christine’s and Jim’s attention now. “A sister?” asks Christine.

“Maybe,” Nyota replies. “I told you that Hikaru has been giving Pavel a free meal at the end of his shift. He’s so skinny, Chris, like you wouldn’t believe! Well, if Pavel has a family, I think we ought to double the portions. I told Hikaru that. He agreed.” She nods, satisfied.

Someone says from over Jim’s shoulder, startling him, “She looks about eight.”

“Bones!” Jim lights up, turning, but at McCoy’s unreadable expression he decides not to ask how the interview went—not yet, anyway.

Uhura looks at McCoy. “Hi there, handsome!”

McCoy lifts an eyebrow.

Nyota extends her hand. “Please skip the ma’am this time, Leonard, and call me Nyota.”

McCoy smiles and kisses the back of her hand with a gleam in his eyes. Jim pretends not to care—which is probably exactly why McCoy did it, to discomfort him. “With pleasure, Nyota,” drawls the Southerner.

Nyota’s eyes also gleam. Then she gets back to real business. “You’ve seen the little girl?”

“Sure have,” says McCoy. “When I went to the motel office, she was in there playing. Looks like the Russian kid, too.”

“What about parents?” Christine muses.

Leonard shakes his head. “They keep to themselves if they exist.”

“So Pavel has a sister and they live in a motel,” Jim summarizes. “And they could be alone.”

“Poor Pavel!” Chapel and Uhura chorus.

“I live in a motel,” McCoy interjects, looking like he doesn’t understand why motel life is sad.

“We already know you’re a lost cause, Bones,” Jim says slyly. “Pavel might not be so stubborn.”

McCoy glares at him.

Uhura interrupts their moment of man-bonding with “Your turn, Jim. Why is Leonard at the clinic?”

Leonard says, “Hello, I’m right here.”

“Bones is a doctor!” Jim practically crows with delight.

Nyota Uhura is surprised, turning to look at McCoy with wide eyes. “Wow, really? Though I didn’t think he had the right attitude for a devout man.”

“Yep,” says Jim. “He got his pre-med degree at Georgia and then finished his MD in Mississippi.”

“Amen! Please tell me he wants to work, Jim,” Nyota almost demands.

“I’m standing right here!” McCoy tries to interrupt.

“I hope so,” Jim says. “We need him. Don’t you think so, Christine?”

Chapels adds her two cents. “Of course. I did some research on McCoy when you said Dr. Piper should look him over.” She whistles to emphasize that her findings were impressive.

“HEY!”

Jim, Christine, and Nyota look at McCoy.

“Didn’t your mommas tell you it ain’t polite to discuss a man’s private business right in front of him?” gripes Leonard McCoy.

“My mother raised me just fine, Dr. McCoy,” Nyota says hotly, planting her hands on her hips.

Leonard isn’t reckless. He backpedals. “Of course, Nyota. I wasn’t insulting anyone’s mother.”

Jim feels stupidly happy. He must be grinning like a silly idiot, too, because Nyota and Christine look from him to McCoy and back before suddenly remembering they have lunch plans. McCoy waves a little when he tells them goodbye, blinking in confusion, as the two women practically drag each other out of the clinic giggling.

Jim rounds on Leonard. “You’re in, right?”

“Huh?”

“Bones! The interview!” Jim’s patience is limited.

McCoy rolls his eyes, saying, “There was no interview, Jim—”

Jim swallows, stomach dropping.

“—at least, not a traditional one. Do you know what was in Exam Room 3? A patient.”

Jim shifts on his feet, waiting for McCoy to give him the details.

McCoy’s look is knowing but the man isn’t cruel. McCoy continues, “The guy looked at me and just started babbling on about his ailments—and let me tell you, they were many. I tried to explain that I wasn’t a practicing doctor and that he had made a mistake. Then he called me ‘Dr. McCoy’ and said he knew who I was and how long did I plan to dawdle while his insides fell apart?”

Jim thinks back to Christine escorting an elderly man down the hallway—infamous Mr. Reeves, the town harbinger of doom and lifetime hypochondriac—and stuffs a fist into his mouth.

McCoy shrugs. “So I looked him over.”

“Did you pronounce him healthy?”

“Do I look like a fool?” McCoy retorts. “A man like that would rather have bad news than good news. I told him to lay off the sugar unless he wanted to be shooting up insulin like a junkie, and then I said his gout was a permanent affliction and he’d better invest in a decent cane.”

Jim is simultaneously horrified and thrilled.

“That’s when your Dr. Piper came strolling in and listened patiently to a report on my horrible bedside manner.”

“What happened then?”

Now McCoy looks uncertain. “He said ‘Follow Dr. McCoy’s advice and come back in three weeks.’” Leonard crosses his arms. “Damned craziest thing, if you ask me.”

“I wouldn’t call my actions crazy,” says a voice behind them.

Jim is already smiling as he turns. “Mark!”

Dr. Mark Piper, a round man with a head of white hair and a kind face, accepts Jim’s hug good-naturedly. “Nice to see you, Jimmy—and without a trail of blood following you, too. How refreshing!”

Jim looks sheepish. Then he asks, impatient, “Does Bones get the job?”

Piper places a firm hand on Jim’s shoulder. “We’ll discuss it in my office.”

The three of them enter a room with a small desk, an old leather chair behind it and two plain chairs in front. The back wall of the room is entirely lined with filing cabinets. Piper sits down, the chair squeaking with age, and sighs mightily, no doubt glad to be off his feet.

“We have five minutes,” Piper tells Kirk and McCoy, “before my next patient gets antsy and aggravates Janice.”

McCoy says, by way of a conversation opener, “You don’t need to bring me into the practice.”

Jim immediately disagrees. Piper tells them both to shut up and listen.

Then he levels a stare at McCoy. “Why do you assume this opportunity is about whether you could use the work or not, Dr. McCoy?” he asks. “Have you considered that we may need you desperately, even if you don’t need us?”

That seems to give Leonard pause. “No, Sir.”

“Then I suggest you quit wasting time complaining about Jim’s tactics—I can tell you now Jimmy’s always been devious—and think about whom this proposition benefits, us as well as yourself. Riverside is a small community. People here cannot always afford health care but that certainly doesn’t preclude them from needing it. Now, I have several good nurses to help me—that I won’t deny. My last practice partner, though, didn’t last more than a year before he decided he needed the excitement and prestige of a multi-million dollar hospital.”

“I’ve worked in both settings, Sir,” Leonard says.

“I know.” Piper adjusts his eyeglasses and reads aloud from a list. McCoy stills, listening, and Jim realizes that Mark is reciting Bones’ work history and… research papers? Jim was right: Leonard McCoy is a smart man and an even smarter doctor.

“Frankly, you are overqualified to work in my clinic,” Piper concludes. “On the other hand, I doubt that you have fully experienced life itself, Dr. McCoy. I have, however, and I can assure you that Riverside is as good a place as any to gain that experience.”

Jim is bursting to agree with Dr. Piper but he is aware that his silence will be less likely to hinder McCoy’s decision at this stage. So he says nothing.

“Are you sure you want me?” asks Leonard.

“Why not? I’m an old man. I would retire, except that I love my work and I love my town—but I’m no fool. I need a pair of fresh eyes and a sharp mind.” Piper taps a finger against his mouth, considering McCoy. “I also like that you aren’t a young upstart like Jim. I would have had Chapel scare you away if that had been the case.”

Leonard’s bark of laughter surprises Kirk.

Piper’s smile is small but satisfied. “Can I bring you in, Dr. McCoy? For a trial run, perhaps?”

Jim holds his breath until he hears Leonard’s reply: “Okay. A trial run—but only because I’m bored and Jim won’t bother me as much if I’m working.”

Chuckling darkly, Dr. Piper says to Dr. McCoy, “Unfortunately for you, I must now enact the first order of business.” Piper points at Jim, saying to Leonard, “You will be his primary physician.”

“What?” McCoy balks, sounding choked.

Jim has the good grace to blush.

“I’m too old to be chasing after the boy.” Piper rises and ambles over to a filing cabinet, rifles through a drawer, and then dumps a large manila folder in front of McCoy. It is bound together with multiple straining rubber bands and yet notes are still spilling out of it.

Mark Piper quips, “I name you Keeper of the Kirk File. My condolences.”

McCoy stares at the bulging folder for a long moment. When he finally turns to Jim, his expression is a cross between peeved and intrigued. “Something you need to tell me, kid?”

Jim looks innocent. “Nooo. I’m healthy. Honest.”

“He’s the devil’s own mischief-maker,” Piper accuses.

“Was,” Jim corrects. “I was Satan’s particular brand of torment for health care providers.” Jim grins. “I’m retired now.”

Piper’s dark mutter is low enough that Jim can pretend he doesn’t hear it.

But apparently McCoy does. The man rakes a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair, frowning. McCoy asks Piper again, “Are you sure you want me?”

“Yes I am,” responds the old man. “You can start on Wednesday morning—7:30, please. Christine will introduce you to the staff and show you around.” Piper eases himself back into the old leather chair. “Welcome to Riverside Medical, Dr. McCoy.”

Bones doesn’t seem excited but that’s all right because Jim is excited enough for the both of them. He tells Dr. Piper, “Thanks, Mark! We appreciate this.”

Piper merely nods. “Go on, Jim, get out of my office. And stay out of trouble! I suspect McCoy won’t be as gentle and accepting of your foolishness as I have been. Keep your head on straight, my boy.”

Jim salutes sloppily with “Yes, Sir” and leads McCoy out of the clinic, triumphant at this small but important victory. McCoy has a job.

“Jim.”

McCoy is his doctor. Lady Luck is smiling upon Jim Kirk today.

“Jim!”

“Yes, Bones?”

“I swear to God,” the man grumbles, “if you start skipping, I’m going to push you into oncoming traffic.”

“But then you’ll have to put me back together because I’m your patient,” Jim says with a flutter of his lashes.

McCoy calls him something unseemly and harsh but Jim just laughs. “Don’t worry, Bones, everything is okay now—”

It is Leonard’s sharp intake of breath and subsequent jerk on Jim’s arm that alarms Kirk enough to shut up. Before he can wonder at the sudden change of atmosphere, McCoy hisses “Spock” and drags Jim back against him, like Jim can hide McCoy in the middle of the sidewalk in broad daylight.

And oh shit, there is Spock across the street, standing opposite them. Staring at them.

Once again Jim is frozen by that dark, almost penetrating gaze, feeling his heart pound in his chest. Then he comes back to himself with the realization that he needs to protect McCoy; McCoy is going to break into a run at any second and may not stop until he is well beyond Riverside, Iowa.

Jim latches onto McCoy’s hand hard, ignoring Leonard’s grunt of surprise and pain. Setting a fast pace, Jim rushes them down the sidewalk. There aren’t many alleys to get lost in, but there are some and Jim knows them all. He can—

As if Lady Luck is inexplicably overtaken by a Plague of Bad Luck, Jim finds himself pulling up short when Deputy Rand blocks his path as they turn a street corner. McCoy bumps into Jim from behind at the unexpected stop in their mad dash. Jim automatically shifts to shield McCoy.

“Kirk,” greets Rand.

“Sorry, Deputy,” Jim says, skipping past the niceties. “Bo—Leonard and I are in a hurry.”

When Jim tries to move past him, Rand blocks their way again, this time placing a warning hand on the holstered gun at his hip. Jim tenses.

Slowly, Rand looks them both over until his gaze stops at their linked hands.

And that, Jim knows, is all it takes to turn this man into a mean son-of-a-bitch.

“So,” Rand says in equal slowness, like he is testing the words, “McCoy’s a special friend, is he, Kirk?”

Jim squeezes Leonard’s hand, willing the man at his back to be silent and let Jim handle Rand.

“Who he is to me is none of your business and you know it,” Jim states flatly. “We’re not bothering anyone. Let us pass.”

Old anger surfaces in Rand’s eyes. “I don’t know what my girl sees in you—what she wants with a faggot.”

Anger burns in Jim, too, and he is long used to it, though more recently new to not letting it overtake him. A few years ago and he would have lunged for Rand, fists swinging. That only ever landed him in worse shape than he was usually in.

Rand is the law; Jim isn’t.

Jim chokes on the bone in his throat. “We’re walking away, Frank,” he says as evenly as he can. “C’mon, Bones.”

The deputy shoves him back, sending Jim into McCoy who cries out, “You goddamn bastard!”

Jim finds his balance again and starts forward, furious, but catches himself. That does not, however, stop Rand from drawing his weapon and barking, “Face down on the ground, Kirk!”

Fuck fuck fuck. Jim hasn’t done anything but that never matters. He twitches and Bones is saying in his ear, “Shit, kid, let’s just go. Shit.”

“I said now!” Frank snaps, and Jim snaps back, “No!”

He has a second to wonder if Bones is good at patching bullet wounds when Rand levels his gun at Jim’s chest. Then a remarkably cool voice interrupts, “Might I inquire why you are threatening these individuals?”

Jim locks his knees upon hearing Spock. He can’t see McCoy’s reaction but he hears Leonard’s panicked breathing falter.

Rand tells Spock, “Stay back. Kirk, get on the ground.”

Spock actually does the opposite; he walks forward into Jim’s peripheral field of vision. “You must prove that you have reasonable suspicion to draw your weapon, Deputy,” the lawyer remarks.

Rand straightens and looks at Spock. “You don’t have authority—“

“I am Mr. Kirk’s and Mr. McCoy’s attorney. I am within my rights—and I suspect you are not within yours.” Spock’s voice is cold now. Jim shivers.

“Kirk has a weapon,” Rand improvises.

Spock raises an eyebrow. “Indeed.” The lawyer turns to Kirk. “Are you in possession of a weapon at this time, Jim?”

Jim, who had thankfully left his jacket at home today, shakes his head. He nudges McCoy back with his foot and when Leonard gives him room, Jim slowly lifts his hands and turns in a circle so that it is obvious no weapon is tucked into his belt.

“Satisfied?” Jim asks Rand in a clipped tone.

Glancing at Spock, the deputy finally steps back and re-holsters his weapon.

Spock turns to Kirk and inquires, “Do either of you wish to press charges against this man?”

“The hell they can!” Frank Rand argues.

Before Jim can say I just want to get Bones out of here or lock the fucking asshole up and throw away the key, Spock tells Rand, “You were harassing my client. As I was witness to your uncivilized behavior—and derogatory comments,” Spock adds, voice still frightfully cold, “I will testify on Mr. Kirk’s behalf.”

Rand’s nostrils flare. “I have a right to freedom of speech.”

“While this is not an untrue statement, speech combined with the intention to harm or defame character is not a right. It is a crime, Mr. Rand.”

“How can you be on his side?” the deputy spits. “Do you even know what that boy is—what they are!” Rand gestures at McCoy, too.

“I am acutely aware,” Mr. Spock says too softly, “for their nature is my own.”

Rand stares at Spock for a long minute before his face twists into ugliness. Yet he does not call any of them what he is clearly labeling them in his head, not in light of Spock’s imperturbable countenance and diamond-sharp eyes.

Rand turns his angry, disgusted look on Jim and says snidely, “Be seeing you, Kirk.” Then he pivots and strides away.

McCoy sags into Jim and twists a fistful of Jim’s shirt in one hand. Jim closes his eyes briefly, only to open them again and find Spock watching him and McCoy both.

“Are you well?” is the lawyer’s gentle question.

“Yeah,” Jim says. “Thanks, Spock—really. I can’t thank you enough.” Even if Rand’s vendetta has grown immeasurably from being denied a spiteful act.

“I recommend that you do not travel alone, Jim,” Spock warns him.

“Yeah, I know.” And he’s not alone, he is with Bones—

Crap.

“Bones?” Jim clears his throat to get his voice back under control. “Are you—?”

“What, Jim?” asks a pinched voice. “Still standing, fucking pissed, terrified? I’m all of those things right now.”

As if on cue, “Leonard…”

Jim winces, waiting for Bones to do something drastic when Spock calls his name.

McCoy, surprisingly, only says, “I owe you thanks, too, Spock. I would have just landed us both in jail.”

Perhaps Spock is surprised by Leonard’s thank you also. “I was merely executing a reminder to Deputy Rand. An enforcer of the law must be attentive to how he behaves, as the justice system requires that he be an exemplary model of lawful—“

“Why can’t you just say, ‘you are welcome’ like a normal person, Spock?” Annoyed McCoy is back.

The lawyer tilts his head like he is studying McCoy. “You are welcome,” Spock parrots.

The hand in Jim’s shirt twitches. Jim decides an intervention is necessary. “I’ve had enough excitement for today, gentlemen.” He hesitates, then says, “Spock, I don’t think this is the best time…”

McCoy releases Jim to circle around him. Staring at McCoy who is now staring at Spock (who stares back at Bones, and why is no one paying attention to Jim?), Jim wets his bottom lip. “Guys?”

Leonard folds his arms. “Jim and I are going to the diner,” the man says like a challenge. “I’ve got nothing else to say to you right now, Spock, so let me alone.”

“When will you be prepared to engage in conversation?” the lawyer wants to know.

“Never.”

“Unacceptable.”

“Fine. Wednesday—but not until I’m off work.”

Is Spock never disconcerted? “This is acceptable. I propose that we convene at the Kirk residence for privacy.”

McCoy purses his lips in thought for a brief second. “Okay,” he drawls. “But Jim is my sounding board. If both he and I don’t like what you have to say, no more talks.”

Jim stands very still under the lawyer’s scrutiny. Spock agrees again. “Then I bid you an uneventful remainder of the day, Mr. McCoy.” Spock tips his head to Jim. “You also, Mr. Kirk.”

And like that, Spock gets a foot in the proverbial door, McCoy is on speaking terms with his arch nemesis, and Jim has no clue what the hell just happened.

Later, as he passes his mother in the hallway on the way to bed and she asks “How was your day, dear?” he answers truthfully with “One I doubt I will ever forget.”

I hope this entertained you; it absolutely burnt me out!

Next Part

Related Posts:

• Along Comes a Stranger (28/28) – from July 10, 2011
• Along Comes a Stranger (27/28) – from July 9, 2011
• Along Comes a Stranger (26/28) – from July 5, 2011
• Chapter of Doom – from July 4, 2011
• Along Comes a Stranger (25/28) – from June 30, 2011

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