Title: Along Comes a Stranger (19/?)
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.
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Part Nineteen

Two days later, Jim waits until Bones has left to catch the bus that morning, pretending to still be sound asleep, before he sneaks out of his bedroom, fully clothed, and goes outside to wait impatiently for Nyota. Before she can put her car into park upon arrival, he is jerking open the passenger-side car door and climbing inside the vehicle.

Uhura eyes him. “In a hurry?”

He bounces his right leg like a man on a caffeine-high. “C’mon let’s go already!”

“Does Leonard need a—?”

“Nope. Caught the bus.” Jim doesn’t ask how she knows Bones is now living at his apartment when it’s only been three days.

McCoy had taken off work the day following his announcement of becoming Jim’s roommate to clean out his motel room. They borrowed Pavel’s sister to help with the moving of Bones’ stuff, though there was never really any intention of making her help; mostly Jim and Leonard tossed bags into the bed of Winona’s truck while Sasha watched them curiously and ate a popsicle. The two men unloaded McCoy’s meager belongings into Jim’s apartment, again with Sasha watching raptly, and then all of them drove to the Ice Cream Shoppe afterward as a reward for a hard day’s labour.

That was just loads of fun, the driving, because Leonard refused to sit behind the wheel but kept a hawk’s eye on the recovering (apparently mentally inept) Jim who drove the entire way, making him stay ten mph under the speed limit.

Never again. Jim can be only so indulgent. Bones, it turns out, is the backseat driver from Hell.

Also through it all, Jim had the opportunity to observe how McCoy treated Sasha—and he couldn’t help but wonder if Bones spoiling her was merely an extension of how much McCoy missed his own daughter, Joanna. It was a sad thought, so he didn’t dwell on it long.

Uhura pulls out of the apartment complex. “I wouldn’t have minded driving you to the garage and Leonard to the clinic.”

“I know,” Jim replies. “Though if you get me to Jose’s, I swear my transportation problem will be solved by this afternoon.”

She says pointedly, “It’s a general consensus that you aren’t allowed to have another motorcycle for at least one year.”

Jim turns to stare at her. “I was a perfectly safe on a motorcycle! And who makes up the ‘general consensus’?!”

“Everybody,” Nyota supplies vaguely.

Jim crosses his arms. “If I want a bike, I’ll get a bike.”

She laughs. “Act your age, Kirk.”

He pokes out his bottom lip for good measure. Uhura simply shakes her head, activates her left turn signal, and pulls into the auto shop’s parking lot. Jim thanks her for the ride.

“Jim, want me to come get you for lunch?” she calls after him.

“I’m good,” he yells back.

Jim sidles around the front door and heads to the back of the garage. Jose will be in the office this early in the morning, frowning into a cup of coffee until he is fully awake. Jim carefully and quietly eases open the side entrance and slips inside the garage.

The tension draining from him could be a physical sensation, he feels it so keenly. Jim trots over to the other end of the garage to the sheet-covered Corvette and lifts up the corner to take a peek at it. “Hello, baby,” he croons. “Did you miss me?”

Unable to resist, Jim strips off the sheet completely and pops the hood to see what kind of progress Jose has made in Kirk’s absence. He is so distracted—muttering to himself and the car—by the lack of changes (he can’t find any, strangely enough) that the shadow sneaking up on Jim doesn’t get noticed until the last second.

Kirk yelps, accidently banging his head on the opened hood, when Jose says in his ear, “You ain’t supposed to be here, chico.”

Jim steps away from the Corvette, rubbing the top of his head. “Don’t do that, Jose. One concussion is enough.”

Jose instantly goes from amused to worried, bordering freaked-out. “Dios! Your momma—she’s going to murder me in my sleep! Does it hurt? Do you need an ambulance? Are you bleeding?” He tries to look at the top of Jim’s head.

Jim dances out of the man’s reach and raises a hand to stave off the rapid-fire questions. “Whoa, I’m fine, Jose!” He grins reassuringly, suppressing the urge to wince. “I don’t have a concussion anymore. We’re cool, okay?”

Jose stares at Jim for a long moment then narrows his eyes. “I heard it takes at least two weeks to get over a concussion.”

“Nah,” says Jim, glad there are no pesky doctors around to contradict him. “I’m good as new. Now, please explain why she—“ He gestures at the Sting Ray. “—is missing her new coat. We placed the order for paint weeks ago.”

Jose shrugs. “I wanted to wait on you.”

“Ah, c’mon,” teases Kirk, though he is pleased. “You can’t leave her naked!”

“When you’re ready,” Jose says firmly, “we will paint her.”

“How about now?”

“No.”

“Jose.”

“I have something better,” his boss explains, motioning Jim to follow him. They round the outside of the garage, heading for a fenced-in lot adjacent to the building. This is where they park the cars they have yet to work on when the garage is full, and where Jose stores the old clunkers Jose likes to collect. Jim has often told the man he is on his way to owning a junkyard rather than a respectable business. Jose always says, “Someday you may want a scrap from that yard.”

Jim’s eyes catch a familiar decal as they pick their way through the weeds. He veers off to investigate.

It’s his bike, what’s left of it. Jim crouches down and runs a hand over the twisted rear frame, picking out bits of gravel. He takes inventory of the damage: bent exhaust pipe; scraps and dents from the tumble; chipped sensors and loosened valves; and the right rearview mirror is missing.

“It’d take a lot of work to bring her back.” Jose squats next to Jim. “I had it hauled outta the pit, though, in case you wanted to try.”

“I don’t know,” Jim says. “It might be cheaper to buy a used one and fix that up.” A lot of parts would need replacing, and he’s never been much of a welder.

Jose makes a noise of agreement. Then he says, somewhat offhandedly, “A fall like that—it’s a miracle the gas tank didn’t ignite.”

Jim says, “It should have, though.”

“Couldn’t. No gas in the tank.”

Meaning someone wanted it to be found and identified as more than a pile of burnt metal and melted plastic.

Jim turns, opening his mouth to speak, but closes it hastily. Saying anything, particularly in surprise, would ruin his story. Instead Jim shrugs and stands up, brushing dirt from his jeans. “What do you want to show me?”

Jose does not remark on Jim’s lack of confirmation about the gas tank. They bypass a few loose tires in the yard. Jose points out a distinct shape.

Jim’s heart thumps in his chest. He hurries to get a closer look. “Is that—oh God, a Shovelhead… 1979?”

“1976. Not bad, yeah?”

Jim rounds on Jose. “Why do you have a 1976 Harley, and why didn’t I know about it?!”

Jose grins. “Didn’t wanna make you cry, not since you were so proud of driving that Honda crap.”

“Hey, don’t diss the Honda. It was affordable.”

“Mmm,” says Jose. “What do you think I could get for this baby?”

Jim eyes it critically, taking in the overall appearance and inspecting it the best he can without seeing it in action. “Does she run?”

“Good enough. She’s been rebuilt mostly. Definitely needs a tune-up before hitting the pavement, though.”

“$15,000, maybe. It’s the name, man. You want a Harley, you pay for a Harley.”

“Well, I suppose I could give you a deal. You clean her up, and we’ll work something out.”

Jim sucks in a breath. Yes is on the tip of his tongue, but he says with real regret, “I can’t.”

“You can’t what? Work on her, or afford her?”

“Afford her. I came to talk to you about that actually. I need a loaner for a while, until I can save up. I don’t care how bad it creaks.”

Jose scratches the back of his head. “There’s the old pickup. The steering’s shaky but it’s sound enough to get you around.” Then the man sighs, much to Jim’s surprise. “Look, Jim, how long you have been working for me?”

“Don’t know, forever?”

Jose smiles. “Feels like forever, chico. My point is—you and me—we’re family by now, and family takes care of each other.” Jose digs in his overall pocket and holds out a set of keys.

Jim takes the keys tentatively. Jose says, with a jerk of his chin at the Harley, “She’s yours. If you want to work a little overtime here and there to ease your conscience, fine. But I’d been saving her with you in mind. I figured if I waited long enough you would get tired of that old bike of yours.”

“Jose…”

“Like I said, she’s not ready to go so don’t thank me yet. You can use the pickup until then.”

Jim’s mouth softens into a smile. “I wasn’t going to thank you, old man—I was going to kiss you.”

That has Jose backing up, much to Jim’s amusement. “Family shake hands,” insists Jim’s boss.

“No puckering up?”

“I will give you a second concussion.”

Jim tugs Jose into a manly, back-slapping bear hug. Jose attempts to look nonplussed when Jim lets him go but Jose’s dark eyes are bright. After that, they go back to the garage, Jim listening to Jose fill him in on the latest work orders and which jobs Jose wants Jim to take a look at.

Except when Jim reaches for a tool set, Jose stops him. “Not today.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “Not you, too.”

“This ain’t about you, boy. It’s about protecting my hide.”

Kirk sighs, relinquishing the tools and plopping down on a stool. “I’m bored.”

“I imagine you are” is Jose’s dry reply. “You can clean my office.”

Jim’s middle finger succinctly expresses his opinion of that.

Jose tosses a dirty rag at him. “Just for that, you can do the bookkeeping.”

“Oh God,” Jim groans. “Math.”

“Go play like a good little Kirk,” says the boss man with a hint of authority.

Jim takes his exile to Jose’s office with all the grace of a five-year old. He entertains himself by rifling through Jose’s desk drawers and counting stale peppermints in a jar set out for customers. Then he naps in a chair, only to wake up when Jose pokes him and says, “You’re snoring. Stop it.”

Jim wipes drool from the corner of his mouth. “What time is it?”

“Almost lunch.”

Kirk’s stomach likes that idea. Jose promises to close up shop for an hour and take them for burgers. Jim visualizes a dozen tasty cheeseburgers while he waits for Jose to finish up. He has had too much healthy food in the past week and he is missing some artery-clogging goodness right about now.

Lunch doesn’t quite work out as planned because the next thing Jim knows is there is yelling in the garage that sounds distinctly like Bones.

He peeks out of the office.

Scowl, finger-pointing, loud demands.

Definitely Bones.

Jim looks around for a place to hide in Jose’s office, but he is too big to fit under the desk.

“Jim!”

Jim freezes. He puts on his best smile and turns around, greeting innocently, “Hiya, Bones!”

“You goddamn fool, I told you to stay home and where do I find you, the one place I…!”

Eventually Jim’s eyes begin to glaze over. He nods contritely at all the right moments.

Leonard runs out of breath, then gripes, “You aren’t even listening, are you?”

He shakes his head.

“I give up!” cries McCoy. “You want to spend your entire life brain-damaged—fine! No skin off my nose!”

“Jose won’t let me work,” Jim says sadly.

“Well at least Jose uses his common sense,” the doctor says, beginning to wind down. “You, on the other hand, haven’t the sense God gave a goat!”

“I was bored at home.”

“Watch tv!”

“Did that. I watched Judge Judy ‘n Oprah ‘n The Young and the Restless.” Jim widens his eyes. “Did you know that almost everyone over the age of 30 in Genoa City has married or hooked up with everyone else in the same peer group?”

Jim can tell that Leonard is trying to suppress the amused quirk of his mouth. “How could you know that after only a few days of watching the soap opera?”

Jim blushes. “I might have done a little research—just a little. Victor is freakin’ awesome,” he mumbles under his breath. Jim decides to close his mouth before it betrays him further.

McCoy sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “I’m still pissed but… how about food? Have you eaten?”

Lighting up at the sign that he is forgiven, Kirk whines about his empty stomach. Jose clears his throat. (Jim hadn’t realized the man was watching Bones rant with interest.)

“I was planning to take Jim to lunch. You should come.”

McCoy shifts uncertainly. “I don’t want to impose, sir.”

Jose asks, “Do you like baseball?”

“Played it into my teens,” responds the Southerner. “And of course, being from Georgia, I grew up watching the Atlanta Braves. My dad used to take me to some of their games.”

Jim’s boss takes this as a cue to argue the case of the Cincinnati Reds and before McCoy knows it, the doctor is following a chattering Jose toward a vehicle with Jim trailing behind both men. Turns out, Bones and Jose have plenty to talk about sports-wise (Jim didn’t realize Leonard read the sports section of the newspaper every morning like a ritual) and Jim is left to happily to stuff his face with as many cheeseburgers as he can manage—until, sadly, Bones makes him put down the third one.

Jim realizes later that Jose purposefully does not mention Jim’s work at the garage (or Jim’s new motorcycle, thank God) and Leonard seems to forget that he was mad at Jim for disobeying his doctor’s orders. Kirk isn’t stupid enough to remind McCoy of that fact, so he flies beneath the radar during lunch and enjoys being free from house-arrest.

He wonders even later than that, settling on the couch in his apartment beside Bones to watch a late night show, how it might have been that Bones found out Jim was at the garage. Did Nyota rat him out? Did she tell his mother at the diner, who in turn decided to call up Dr. McCoy? Or did it spread like gossip wildfire that Jim had returned to work?

It is simply amazing, sometimes, how quickly a tidbit of news travels in Riverside. Jim decides he needs to be more careful in the future. It wouldn’t do to have his dealings with Trelane become public, not until Trelane is permanently behind bars.

Jim is almost resolved to forget that he is involved in an unpleasant situation. However, Trelane is not ready to let Kirk forget.

On Saturday, Jim is lounging on the couch with his eyes closed when Bones comes back from checking their mailbox. The television is just background noise while Jim has fun being lazy. The front door opens, and Leonard walks in, tossing the mail on the coffee table.

“Anything good?” Jim murmurs.

“Salespapers. Bills. Jim?”

“Yeah?” Jim peeks open one eye to look at Bones.

McCoy holds up a white business card. “This was in our box.”

Jim’s stomach makes a sudden lurch and he sits up, taking the card. One side is bare; the other has a telephone number. The lunch he had eaten threatens to make a reappearance. Jim swallows hard. “Huh,” he says, trying to sound baffled and not shocked. He had forgotten about the business card. Where did he leave it? The parking lot of the lumber mill? In his pocket, or Gary’s truck?

Leonard eyes the pallor of his face. “What is it?”

He grins weakly. “The number of the receptionist in the front office? She stares at my ass every time I go in to pay the rent.”

McCoy replies slowly, “No, I don’t think that’s what it is. It means something else, doesn’t it?”

Why does Jim have to have an astute roommate? “Of course not.” He gets up and makes a show of throwing it into the trash can.

“Jim.”

“Forget it, Bones, seriously.” Jim resettles on the couch. “Wanna go see a movie tonight?”

At McCoy’s silence, Jim stills. He turns to look at Leonard. “Is that a bad idea?”

Leonard grimaces. “I, uh, made plans tonight.” At Jim’s downcast eyes, McCoy adds quickly, “Plans for both of us.”

Okay, plans don’t mean… why is Jim’s heart racing all of a sudden? “Hey, whatever you want to do.” He tries to sound relaxed.

Leonard says “Jim…” in such a way that completely shatters the kind of ‘plans’ Jim had been wistfully imagining.

“I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“I invited Spock over.”

Dealing with Spock has certainly become one of the more difficult parts of Jim’s life. He had managed to catch the lawyer during lunch at the diner after Rand’s warning and told him—albeit quietly—to stop bothering the Sherriff’s Department. Spock had not replied, simply stared at Jim until Kirk left him alone.

Jim says plaintively, “I can’t handle Spock right now.”

“Jim, I don’t think you’ve tried.”

“That’s not fair, Bones! Did he even tell you why I left his house?”

Leonard’s eyes flash with temper. “This is Spock we’re talkin’ about. Of course he told me! If you ask me, you’re the one making a mountain out of a mole hill. It was just a kiss.”

Jim grips the edge of the couch. “It wasn’t.”

Lips pressed together, McCoy doesn’t back down. “That’s all it was, a kiss, and you—acting like a teenage girl.”

Jim’s fingers are digging into the fabric of the couch. “Bones, shut up.”

“You didn’t think!” McCoy runs right over his words. “You got on your damned bike with your damned leg and look what happened.”

Bone could be hitting him and it would hurt less.

His roommate finishes, “We try to protect you, Jim, but Spock and I can’t protect you from yourself.”

“That’s your problem, Bones,” Jim says as he deliberately rises from the couch with controlled movements. “You assume I need protection. I don’t. I didn’t before you and Spock showed up, and I don’t need it now.” Jim breathes deeply. “And that kiss? It mattered to me. I’m in love with you, you jackass. I don’t make a habit of kissing men who aren’t you.” He laughs bitterly. “But apparently you do.”

Leonard flinches, but Jim has no sympathy for him. He steps up to McCoy. “That’s the issue here. How many more times are you going to get drunk and wake up to find yourself with Spock? I’m the sober choice but he’s the indulgence.”

“Jim, stop it—”

“I can’t! Don’t you get it? I can’t stop!” Jim cries. “I want you, and you want Spock, and Spock thinks we all should take turns like we’re on a fucking carnival ride!”

“And why can’t we?” demands Leonard.

Jim makes an inarticulate noise. “It’s crazy!”

“Well I don’t know what else to do!” McCoy shouts back. “I want you both! So if you’ve got a better idea, then, goddamn it, TELL ME!”

They are an arm’s length apart, both breathing hard, at a standstill.

Jim finally admits, “I don’t know what we can do, Bones, but I won’t be the guy you experiment with until you decide you really want Spock and ditch me. I’m not that guy, okay?”

Leonard’s face softens. “Jim, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I know you wouldn’t mean to but you can’t make that promise, so don’t even try.”

“I’m not pretending I’m a saint. All I am is a recently divorced man who just discovered he loves two decent men, neither of whom deserves to be hurt.”

Jim lets out a short, somewhat hollow laugh. “Told you—crazy.”

McCoy says wryly, “There’s no doubt in my mind that this is fucked up, kid, but I can’t help it.” His expression changes to a more serious look, one that always makes Jim’s pulse race. “You make me laugh, Jim, and give me hope. I need that. And Spock—with him, I feel safe, even when he irritates the hell out of me. I need that, too. Shit, you don’t know how scared all this makes me.”

Unlike McCoy, Jim isn’t afraid to love. “It’s the fear that lets you know it’s real.”

“So why do I feel like I’m the only one who is afraid, Jim?”

“I already told you what I’m scared of.”

“Of being the third wheel.”

Jim nods. McCoy reaches out and tips his chin up. For a moment, they say nothing, connected only by the light touch. Leonard brushes his thumb along the side of Jim’s jaw.

Jim swallows against the lump in his throat. “I don’t want to lose you, Bones. Not to Spock—not to Georgia.” He cannot say not to Joanna because he could never ask that of McCoy.

“I don’t want to lose you either. That’s why I was so mad, because you taking off—all I think of is you, gone, ending up somewhere that I can’t find you in case you need me.”

“I’m used to it,” Jim confesses. “The on-my-own part. Even when I had a girlfriend, I was free.”

Leonard drops his hand back to his side. “I’m not trying to cage you, Jim, but it’s invaluable to me to know you’re all right.”

“Something to work on then?” Jim asks lightly, choosing to back down from the stew of emotions between them.

McCoy nods, silently agreeing to let the matter drop.

Jim sighs, feeling like he has come full circle. “I still don’t want to see Spock.”

“Do you really dislike him that much?”

Surprised, Jim says, “No, I like him. I—” He thinks of the kiss, that one he had claimed mattered because it wasn’t with Leonard—which wasn’t really the truth. Jim had enjoyed the kiss, right down to the marrow of his bones. “I’m not sure he has thought this through.”

Leonard’s face could only be described as tickled. “The one thing Spock does is think. Way too much thinking.”

“But he can’t be serious.”

“Oh, he can—and is. Utterly serious.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

McCoy grins a little. “The trick to handling Spock is to let him think he’s won until the very last second—and then you shoot his assumptions full of holes. It’s a tactic I’ve seen him use in court.”

Jim rubs his forehead. “You mean you use his own technique against him?”

“Only when it’s about the stuff he doesn’t get, relationships being one of them. Did I ever tell you I met his parents once?”

Jim puts on his expectant, please read me a bedtime story, Mom face.

“Well, Amanda—that is Spock’s mother—wasn’t on speaking terms with her husband when they unexpectedly showed up at the university to check up on their son. Spock, bless his heart, said his mother was reacting poorly to a statement his father had made and she would see the error of her ways.”

Jim presses a fist against his mouth.

“And well, I said ‘we’ll just see.’ Spock’s got this rather sweetly ignorant idea that his father is larger-than-life and can be cowed by no one. Anyway, we all go out to dinner—don’t ask how I got roped into that—and what do you know! Sarek ended up making a public apology to his wife. The women in the room cheered. I almost snorted wine up my nose because I had never seen Spock so flabbergasted.”

They laugh together, the tension gone at last and even ground restored.

McCoy ends with “Later, I took the liberty of explaining to Spock why the wife is usually right.” Leonard continues to chuckle to himself at the memory.

Jim doesn’t know how Bones did it, but all he can picture now is a younger Spock as apt to make silly mistakes as the next person. By the look in McCoy’s eyes, that was Bones’ intention all along.

Jim gives in, not verbally of course, but by sitting down on the couch instead of grabbing his jacket and leaving. He thinks about what they have said to one another, he and Leonard, about the small truths revealed and the realization that Bones is no more experienced with this new territory they are heading into than Jim.

What remains to be seen is if they can find a path they can all walk, together.

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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