Ghosts We Know

Date:

0

Title: Ghosts We Know
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: Working on the same starship has its disadvantages for couples. Sometimes they agree to frightful adventures just to spend quality time together. And sometimes it’s the being together that creates the adventure. Naturally Kirk, Spock, and McCoy end up in some form of these scenarios simultaneously.


“Did you hear that?” a timid voice asks. “It sounded like a—”

Screeech,” imitates his companion, widening his eyes as he raises a penlight overhead.

“No, more like a whomp-whomp.” A gasp. “There it is again!”

Both men freeze, listening intently.

Screeech—whomp-whomp—BOOM!

They jump together at the sudden slam, exchanging a look and wordlessly but unanimously coming to the same decision. Not a moment later, the officers are hurrying back the way they came, abandoning what should be a routine check of the empty shaft.

At the crossroads near the engine room, the two guards encounter another pair from the same team and share their frightening tale. “It’s haunted!” they insist. “The rumors are true!”

The officers who had not yet visited that area laugh at this, ribbing their comrades for being so easily scared by unusual sounds.

“Probably just the plumbing acting up. Even a starship eventually feels its age.”

The group returns to Security’s headquarters, half of them still uneasy, to report in.

Back in the shaft where the lighting flicks at will and there’s a chill to the air that never seems to abate, the screeech—whomp-whomp—boom reoccurs once more, slowly fading until the quiet hum of the ship resumes.

~~~

“Hello, Doctor. Care for some company?”

Leonard H. McCoy, mouth occupied with a biscuit stuffed with ham, waves his guest to take a vacant seat at the cafeteria table. Montgomery Scott drops his tray in front of him and settles down with a sigh.

Finished eating, McCoy observes, “Early morning?”

“Late night,” clarifies the Chief Engineer. “Haven’t had a chance to sleep yet, actually, with new modifications needin’ to be installed, tested, and approved before we arrive at dock.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The doctor shares his sympathy and his outrage. “I’ll never understand it. I thought refits were supposed to be taken care of when nobody was around to mess ’em up. Makes no sense to try and upgrade a ship on active duty! What if a priority call comes up?”

“I tend to agree, but I have my orders and I’ll nae have my performance records say I’m not a team player.”

“Anybody who knows you would never say that, Scotty.”

“Thanks.”

“Have you talked to Jim about it?”

“Aye, but he says the only way he can revoke the order is if we do run into trouble first.”

McCoy grimaces. “Not the best option.”

“Tell me about it. I have a feeling the maintenance will be delayed anyway. Seems there’s something in one of the Jefferies Tubes that spooked several of my men the other day while they were working on the refit.”

“What was it?”

“Dinnae know. But it nearly gave the poor lads a heart attack!”

McCoy waves a fork at Scotty’s plate. “Your choice of breakfast will get you to a heart attack faster than any spook.”

“Oy, don’t insult my sausages! They’re the only wee bit of joy I’ve had for these past two days.”

The doctor snorts but relents, popping the remnants of his biscuit into his mouth. “Tell your boys to come to Sickbay if they can’t settle their nerves.”

McCoy’s companion grins. “A visit to Sickbay should certainly add some perspective on the definition of scary.”

“We’re not that bad!”

The engineer simply continues to grin and digs into his breakfast.

~~~

Leonard takes a break from paperwork around mid-morning of alpha shift, heading for the Science department. He arrives at the threshold to his destination in time to step aside as a line of dejected-looking science officers trail out of the Head of Science’s office.

“What’s that about?” he asks while entering the office.

Spock puts down his data padd with a tad more force than usual, a sign McCoy recognizes as suppressed frustration. That makes him all the more curious.

“Apparently my lab technicians became aware of a series of unusual disturbances in the L3 shaft near Engineering.”

“Think I heard something of that,” Leonard murmurs as he takes a seat across the officer’s desk.

“They wished to assemble a team and conduct an investigation to determine the source of those disturbances.”

Leonard tamps down on a grin. “You mean your techs were itching to go ghost hunting.”

“Which would be an unproductive use of their work hours and our equipment,” counters the Vulcan firmly while organizing a group of items, not looking at his guest.

“Mm-hm.”

That noncommittal noise seems to catch Spock’s attention.

Leonard lifts his hands in a gesture of placation. “Don’t glare at me like that. I’m not making light of your decision.”

“But you do not agree with it.”

“What’s wrong with letting them have a little fun?”

“I try to ensure the assignments for this department are meaningful, Doctor. I fail to understand why any member of my staff would feel as though those assignments do not take precedence over… an entertainment.”

“Spock, did they say they don’t want to do their regular work? C’mon, you’ve been around us humans a long while now. You ought to know we could be working on the most interesting project in the galaxy and yet still have the ambition to take on the next thing that catches our eye.”

“I suspect the thrill factor of the proposed excursion, not the science, was the likeliest motivator.”

“So tell ’em to keep any side projects strictly to off-duty hours.” That’s probably what those officers will do anyway, despite being told no by their boss. But Leonard doesn’t mention that to Spock.

He gauges Spock’s impassive expression and sighs softly. Clearly, there’s a ways to go in showing his Vulcan how to loosen up.

Spock’s gaze sharpens at Leonard’s sigh but he questions rather blandly, “Is there a business purpose to this visit, Dr. McCoy?”

“You say that like you aren’t happy to see me.”

The commander blinks. “I am not displeased by your presence.”

Leonard’s blue eyes gleam. “What’re you up to for lunch?”

Spock picks up the data padd. “Would it not have been more expedient to message me your question?”

“Lately I’m finding I enjoy asking you in person.”

Spock, who had turned toward his computer station, swivels to face McCoy again and discards the padd down.

In response, Leonard taps the silver band on the ring finger of his left hand. “Maybe it’s ’cause of this.”

The Vulcan folds his hands on his desk so that his ring is prominently visible, identical in color and placement. “I see. Forgive my peevishness, Leonard. I am in fact quite pleased to see you.”

Finally, McCoy grins. “You old sweet-talker.”

“Define ‘old’.”

Laughter bursts out of him. “That’s something Jim would say!”

“Yes,” Spock says slowly as if he now recognizes the similarity. “It may be that I have been more affected by marriage to a human than I anticipated.”

“Two humans,” corrects Leonard, “and it’s not the marriage affecting you, it’s the people in it.”

Spock’s dark eyes mirror the playfulness in McCoy’s. “I was speaking in general.”

“So, about that lunch…”

“Yes, we should dine together.” Spock pauses, then, before adding, “The lunch hour begins in one point forty-three hours. Stay.”

“Are you suggesting I neglect my work, Mr. Spock?”

“You would never neglect critical work, Doctor, and should that be the case today, you would not have had time to spare for this visit. Furthermore, I am fully confident any non-priority work requiring your attention can be dealt with after lunch.”

“Well, who am I to argue with that sound logic?”

“It would be wise not to.”

“If I’m going to watch you work,” Leonard says, standing up, “I’d better move this chair around the desk.” And he does. Once they are close enough to touch elbows, he smiles and accepts a Vulcan-style kiss from his patiently waiting husband. He says afterward, “We’ll have to tell Jim about this so we can make it up to him.”

“Affirmative. Jim has a remarkable fondness for our making-up sessions.”

“That’s exactly why we are clear to proceed, darlin’.”

~~~

In the afternoon, the situation in L3 becomes more real to McCoy when the Chief of Security calls him up, irritated, to ask for a sizable prescription of sedatives. During a security check of that section, one officer swears he caught a glimpse of the ghostly—and apparently noisy—apparition lurking about in the bowels of the ship, and now Giotto’s entire department is unsettled.

“Lt. Yang called it as a grotesque shape but couldn’t give me an accurate description when I questioned him further,” Giotto sighs heavily. “The report from Havens, who was partnered with him, was equally unenlightening, and he went after the thing, only to find it had disappeared the next tunnel over.”

“Maybe we do need the ghost hunters,” Leonard mutters. “How bad off are the lieutenants? Should I make a house call?”

“I talked Yang down from quitting and tucked him in for a nap in my office. But Havens has riled up everyone. Now I only have one or two clear-headed men left to keep the others from marching off in a witch-hunt.”

“Sounds like they need knocks upside their heads instead of medicine.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” growls the chief.

“You should call Jim. One stern look from him will settle everybody down.”

“Tried. The captain’s not answering comms.”

That isn’t like Jim, thinks McCoy. “Spock?”

“Doctor, I want to settle the men down, not scar them permanently.”

“Then I’m coming over.” Leonard could swear Giotto’s muttered response is a heartfelt thank you. “I’ll bring the sedatives but the threat alone should be enough to make them see reason.”

Giotto seems to agree with that. “Include Nurse Chapel. Two threats are better than one.”

Giotto ends the calls while Leonard is still sputtering. Eventually settling himself, McCoy leaves his office to locate Chapel and tell her, “Grab your gear, Nurse. We have a special mission.”

When he finishes describing the current situation in Security, her mouth forms a thin but pleased smile. “Mission accepted, Doctor.”

And so, armed with their own brand of weapons and some terrifying game faces, the pair exits Sickbay.

~~~

By the time the work day is over, Leonard wishes for nothing more than a couch to stretch out on and a full glass of whiskey. When he encounters Spock in front of the captain’s quarters, the Vulcan being punctual per usual, he starts his tale as they enter the cabin together.

“You won’t believe the day I had and the fools I had to deal with.” He huffs, then sighs more wearily through his nose. “But there might be something to this haunting after all. Jim needs to know. Besides, I tell you, Spock, if I have to deal with another—” McCoy stops mid-sentence when the Vulcan comes to a halt beside him. “What is it?”

“The captain is not here.”

The doctor blinks and looks around, noting as Spock had the darkened entry to the bedroom and the overall tidiness of Kirk’s work area. Though he believes Spock (after all a Vulcan can hear a pin drop, much less Jim’s solid snoring), he goes forward and pokes his head around the partition.

“Nope, definitely not in there.”

Spock watches McCoy’s return to his side. “Have you heard from Jim recently?”

“We both received that apology saying he was sorry he couldn’t join us for lunch. I contacted the bridge later to check up on him but he had put Sulu in charge.”

Spock raises an eyebrow, an unspoken of protest of Why not contact me?

“I’m sure Jim didn’t want to bother you.” Leonard pats the Vulcan’s arm. “You take on more bridge duty than anyone aboard. Let the others get in their command hours too.”

“You know I do not—” begins the protest.

“I do, I do know,” intervenes his husband hastily. “I’m just saying you do more than your fair share, Spock, even if it’s because you have better stamina and fewer sleep cycle requirements than the rest of us.”

For some reason, Spock still looks unconvinced. Leonard reminds him gently, “Jim does have a right to delegate.”

“Naturally. I would not assume otherwise.”

McCoy heads for the door. “Let’s find him. I get this feeling he might be up to no good.”

“I would remark that such a feeling is illogical, but you have a point where Jim is concerned.” Spock doesn’t follow McCoy instead approaching the computer station. “Allow me a moment to locate him through the sensors to make our search more efficient.”

Leonard folds his arm across his chest and waits. “Well?” he prompts, impatient.

“Hm,” is all Spock says, turning to meet his companion’s gaze briefly before leaving the desk.

“What is it?” Leonard repeats, experiencing a sudden skitter of nerves.

Spock stops in front of McCoy. “Jim is still on the ship.”

Leonard uncoils and jerks forward, latching onto the front of Spock’s tunic. “Dispense with the dramatics, Spock! Where the hell is Jim?”

“Sector L3.”

They stare at each other for a long minute.

Then Leonard glances down, realizes his hands are still fisted in Spock’s shirt, and releases him quickly, embarrassment heightening the color of his face. “I might have overreacted.”

Spock arches an eyebrow. But he must take pity on his spouse, for he says, “Shall we visit Engineering?”

Leonard nods once, swinging into step with Spock as they exit into the corridor.

“Jim must be looking into those disturbances. Damn and blast, why didn’t he take us with him?”

“Are you suggesting we indulge in ghost hunting?”

Leonard just gives Spock a sour look and none-too-gently nudges him into a turbolift. But his reply afterward is, “If the shoe fits.”

~~~

“Doctor, Mr. Spock! What are ye doing here?”

“Mr. Scott,” Spock greets the man surprised by their appearance. Then, “Mr. Giotto.” Spock stops in front of them, McCoy at his back, to give the officers a scrutinizing stare.

Giotto has a fairly strong constitution not to cave under that serious stare but Scotty doesn’t, notes Leonard with a mixture of amusement and pity.

“We haven’t done anything!” bursts out Mr. Scott. “We were just comparing stories about the ghost,” the engineer winces, amending, “uh, I mean the disturbance that’s upset our lads.”

“Y’all seen Jim about?” Leonard wants to know.

The officers shake their heads.

When Spock continues studying Giotto and Scott, in McCoy’s opinion, not unlike a parent trying to gauge the mischief his offspring might be up to, the doctor leans in and murmurs, “Jim, remember?”

“We believe the Captain is near this locale,” Spock tells the others, “specifically in the L3 area.”

The Security chief tenses while Scotty looks alarmed, who points at the entrance tunnel leading to that sector. “Jim’s doun there with the ghost?

Leonard comments dryly, “Leave it to Kirk to go where the trouble is.”

Spock turns for the entrance. “Dr. McCoy and I will leave you to resume your discussion, gentlemen.”

Giotto steps forward with a protest. “You’re going unarmed?”

Spock twists around from the waist, both eyebrows lifted. “Unless your men have been assaulted—and I am aware of no report stating such—we will conduct an ordinary search.”

“He means,” Leonard interjects, “we’re not going to carry phasers and risk causing an accident. But if you hear us yell, by all means, come running!”

Giotto exchanges a look with Scott but backs down without a word.

“Doctor,” Spock says, moving ahead into the Jefferies Tube.

Leonard hurries after him. When he is certain they are out of earshot, he chastises, “You could have been more sympathetic, Spock. They have reasons to be concerned.”

“Regulations state that any unexplainable occurrence on the ship should be reported to the first officer for evaluation.”

“So you’re miffed that you’ve been excluded?”

Spock turns on McCoy. “Do not patronize me. “

“I’m not!” Leonard retorts hotly.

“My job requires me to be aware of this crew’s ability to function at all times, including any matter which may impact performance. Given the way you desire to defend Mr. Scott and Mr. Giotto, clearly you know more of this situation than the little information you did share with me.”

Leonard sucks in a breath. “It’s my fault now? Why you—”

Screeech.

The doctor snaps his mouth closed, looking around Spock’s shoulder. “Did you hear that?”

Spock is staring in that direction too. “Very acutely.”

They fall into silence for a full minute but hear nothing else. But just as McCoy starts with “Spock—”, a series of whomp-whomping begins.

Spock cocks his head to the side. “The noise has a noteworthy reverberation which is unlike the normal—”

“In English, Spock!”

“I think the origins of the sounds are from the connector tunnel up ahead.”

“Oh goody,” Leonard says sarcastically as Spock starts walking, “we’re going there. Wait up, Spock! These damn klaxons hardly give any light. I can barely see my own feet!”

“They are outdated,” Spock agrees as he allows McCoy to catch up. “Engineering is scheduled to install a newer model as part of the upgrade.” He falls oddly silent for a moment. Then, “Leonard, you are pale. Are you—”

“Don’t say it,” interrupts McCoy, forming fists to keep his hands from twitching. “You know I’m not that superstitious, but my grandmother always swore her house in the country was haunted and she made sure to tell her grandkids stories of the latest creepy experience she had. None of us slept a wink all night after those stories. I’m not a child anymore, and I’d rather let science tell me what’s real and what isn’t, but… this is taking me back to that house and those stories and how I felt then.”

Spock holds out two fingers in an unspoken apology.

Leonard touches his hand to Spock’s, which makes him feel a whole hell of a lot better.

“If you are uncomfortable, we can go back,” Spock offers.

“No, we should find what’s making that blasted noise.” He adds as almost an afterthought, “And Jim.”

They enter the side tunnel, which is even darker than the primary shaft of L3, and walk in a ways.

“What do you hear, Spock?”

“Fascinating.” Spock turns around, facing the opening of the tunnel.

That is not the word McCoy would use to describe any part of their excursion. “Feel free to share with the class.”

“Doctor, I believe…”

But Spock falls silent and Leonard sees why. The faint light emitting from the other shaft cannot quite disguise the movement of something coming toward them—a large, shapeless mass.

Leonard takes a step back on instinct, grabbing Spock’s arm. “Spock.”

“It knows we are here.”

McCoy breaks out into a cold sweat. “Spock, I changed my mind, let’s go. Spock,” he nearly cries as the thing seems to pinpoint their exact location. “Stay where you are!” he shouts at it.

But instead of being scared away, their visitor floats straight for them.

Leonard tugs harder at the Vulcan’s arm but Spock is immovable. Oh, they have definitely caught the attention of the ghost, which shifts from a shapeless form to a vaguely humanoid one as it halts just outside the beam of light cast by the nearest klaxon in the other shaft.

Spock murmurs suddenly, “Ah, of course,” just as the thing comes fully into their sight.

Leonard gasps—and cries seconds later, aghast, “Jim!”

The thing is in fact none other than one sheepish-looking James T. Kirk in his regular Starfleet uniform.

“Spock? Bones?” Confirming that’s who they are, Kirk lengthens his stride toward them.

“Jim, what in blazes!” Leonard demands as relief washes through him, which also has the side effect of firing up his temper. “Where have you been?”

Spock seems to already know, stating, “The answer is quite obvious.”

Jim is close enough now that they can see him flinch. “I can explain.”

McCoy’s head whips from Kirk to Spock and back again. Under the doctor’s deeply scrutinizing gaze, Kirk does indeed look like a guilty man.

“Our captain is the apparition plaguing this sector.”

Leonard’s mouth opens but all that comes out is a fizzling noise. When Kirk and Spock look at him almost expectantly, he explodes, “You’re serious?! My god, there are crewmen afraid to do their jobs because of the nonsense going on! And, Jim, you keep lurking down here, scaring the bejeezus out of ’em? An entire department is ready to revolt!”

“Which department?” Kirk and Spock ask at the same time.

“Giotto’s! That’s what I was going to tell you both tonight. Nurse Chapel and I had to brow-beat those dummies into putting down their pitchforks.”

“How would a farming instrument be effective in combat with a non-corporeal entity?”

Leonard rolls his eyes. “It’s a turn of phrase, Spock. But Security was no less ready to storm down here and exorcize some spirits.” He huffs, turning his attention back to Jim, his tone stern once again. “Which would, of course, end up being you.”

Kirk steadily meets the flaring challenge in the doctor’s gaze. Then he sighs and holds out his left hand. McCoy and Spock stare at it.

“I lost my ring.” Jim gestures to the dimly lit corridor around them, adding, “Somewhere around here,” as he smiles grimly. “I’ve tried to keep the commotion of my search to a minimum, but I have been quite desperate to find it.”

“How did it come off?” wonders Leonard, looking to Spock. “Did you know his ring didn’t fit? I thought it fit.”

“Negative.”

“The ring fit when you gave it to me,” explains Kirk. Then his eyes narrow at McCoy. “And then it didn’t—” His gaze narrows a little more. “—because of a certain diet my physician hounded me into. I told you losing weight would be problematic.”

“That’s not what you meant at the time, Jim.” Leonard purses his mouth. “Your health is important.”

“So’s my wedding ring, mister!”

Spock intercedes with “Gentlemen, let us engage in this argument at a later date. Jim, Leonard and I are more than willing to assist you in locating your ring.”

“We can have it resized,” Leonard says with a nod.

But Jim seems of a different opinion. “No. I don’t want it changed.”

Leonard frowns. “But then you can’t wear it!”

Kirk only stiffens and turns more intractable. “I’ll have to return to my normal weight.”

When McCoy sounds like a teakettle boiling, Spock automatically shifts to stand between them. “Discussion later,” is his firm reminder.

“Fine,” the two men declare simultaneously in the same testy tone of voice.

Then McCoy mutters something under his breath like only that idiot before grumbling, “Who has a flashlight to spare?”

Kirk pops a small handheld device off his belt and tosses it to McCoy. “Use this.”

“I’m not paid enough to deal with the likes of you two,” Leonard’s muttering continues while he tests the device by clicking its light on and off a few times. Then he sighs gustily and swivels the beam of light toward the darker corners of their surroundings. “At least with Jim being the ghost we won’t cross paths with a real one.”

“Jim, I highly recommend announcing to the crew as soon as possible that the situation in this sector has been resolved.”

Spock must be thinking of the department chiefs he and McCoy left behind to their plotting. Leonard couldn’t agree more.

Jim shakes his head lightly as he leads them into another part of the tube. “I can’t understand why anyone would think there’s a ghost! Although Security does tend to be an imaginative bunch.”

Leonard snorts. “They weren’t before you took command.”

Jim whirls around. “I don’t see how my captaincy bears any relevance to the kind of encounters we have.”

“A valid point,” remarks Spock.

“I’m just sayin’, based on our experiences, it’s likely your crewmen have learned to be flexible in their thinking. You can’t react properly to danger if you aren’t willing to believe it’s possible.”

“An equally valid point,” Spock approves also.

Jim’s brows draw together as he looks between Spock and McCoy. “I don’t care if this crew believes in saints and devils. I won’t tolerate a riot on my ship.”

Leonard moves into the man’s personal space and nudges him a little with his elbow. “Think less rioting and more like a dogged determination to protect the ship and those aboard it.”

After a moment, Jim’s temper fades. “All right, Bones, I get it. I’m not planning to court-martial anyone. But we will have a chat…. yes, we will have that chat.” He turns away, then, the line of his shoulders sinking a little. “This happened because I lost my ring. If I had been more careful, there wouldn’t be a need to reprimand anyone.”

Leonard looks to Spock, shaking his head as if to say What do we do with this silly old fool?

Since Jim Kirk is their fool, they do what they have always done: move to stand beside him in a show of support, comfort, and when necessary a willingness to deliver unto Jim a swift kick in the ass.

Leonard has a better idea at that moment and lowers his voice in a teasing manner. “Spock and I had a little personal enjoyment of each other in his office today.”

Jim snaps his head around to stare at McCoy.

“However it now seems,” Spock supplies next, catching on, “you have a more… serious… reason to ‘make up’ with us.”

Jim looks at Spock. “I do?”

Taking Jim’s hand in his own and presses the bare fingers lightly, Leonard nods. “Sure. We’re just devastated you lost that ring.”

“Yes,” Jim says slowly, “I can see how devastated you two are.” A smile lights his face. “Gentlemen, I think this search can wait, don’t you? Considering the strength of the grievance you have with me, it might take a little longer than usual to show you how sorry I am.”

Leonard grins. “We’re all very sorry, Captain.”

“Breaking out the titles, Bones? I like it—Doctor.”

The warmth in Spock’s eyes belies a cool monotone. “Again, this conversation would be best continued in private.”

“Yeah,” agrees McCoy, wrinkling his nose. “It’s too dusty in here.”

“And sound echoes too well,” laughs Kirk.

As if on cue, sounds do crash upon them: a screeech—whomp-whomp—BOOM!

All three men freeze momentarily before twisting around to stare in the direction their searching would have taken them.

At length, McCoy very hesitantly shines his light into that empty darkness. “What was that?”

Kirk clears his throat, but his voice stays a little hoarse nonetheless. “Just old plumbing, Bones.”

Then they hear it, the light clink of metal hitting against metal. Jim tenses as an instant later something tiny rolls toward them out of the dark. It hits the tip of Jim’s boot and falls over. He picks it up and holds the thing up for all of them to see.

“Well I’ll be damned,” says Leonard softly, staring at Jim’s missing ring.

Spock and Jim trade a glance.

The Vulcan advises formally, “Captain, a retreat would not be remiss until sufficient research can be conducted—”

SCREEECH—WHOMP-WHOMP—BOOOOOM!

“—into the legitimate disturbances of Sector L3,” finishes Spock on the tail-end of a stiff pause.

“Very wise, Mr. Spock.”

“Can we just get outta here?” McCoy insists, his Southern accent thickened by nervousness.

And the men do, not quite moving a pace that could be deemed running. When they break into the main corridor (Kirk with an explosive breath, McCoy with a squeak, and Spock still determinedly towing both humans to safety), Mr. Giotto and Mr. Scott are where Spock and McCoy left them. The two men break off their conversation at the sight of the rumpled three.

“Somebody, call the Ghostbusters!” McCoy blurts out.

“Uh oh, that cannae be good,” comments Scotty, his eyes widening.

Giotto unclips a communicator from his uniform and raises it to his mouth. “Giotto to all Teams.”

“Sir?” comes a groggy voice, probably Lt. Yang just waking up from his nap.

“Red alert. It’s real. Get over here.”

The sounds of pandemonium are pointedly ignored by everyone who hears them. Giotto snaps his communicator closed and turns to Kirk for orders.

Calm now, Jim flips around to face the mouth of the Jefferies Tube, widening his stance and planting his hands on his hips to survey the darkness ahead.

“Cancel date night,” sighs Leonard.

Spock arches an eyebrow. “It is the supernatural, Doctor.”

“Not helping, Spock.”

Rather than replying, the Vulcan simply takes his place at Kirk’s side. McCoy joins them in short order.

Jim briefly removes his hands from his hips to place a hand on the lower back of each man. “I haven’t forgotten my promise,” he says for their ears only. “I’ll make this up to you, too. But first…”

“Adventure awaits,” finishes Leonard in a grumble, though oddly he sounds less nervous and a great deal fonder. “But why am I the only one expressing an opinion? Spock?”

“Every day is an adventure with humans,” Spock states peacefully.

Jim chuckles and Leonard rolls his eyes.

In that instant, a horde of redshirts storm the area from all directions, wild-eyed and strangely wind-blown. On their heels appears another team: the blueshirts who had trailed from Spock’s office in dismay. Now their eyes are bright with excitement, and their mouths stretched in grins. They also appear to be carrying what an Earth history buff would describe as homemade EMFs and ancient recording devices.

McCoy laughs finally. “Dear lord, somebody did call them! Jim, our hobgoblin is never going to live this down.”

“Live what down, Bones?”

Under the burn of said hobgoblin’s gaze, Leonard closes his mouth and locks his hands behind him, rocking back on his heels.

That tough Vulcan stare melts into exasperation. Without a word, Spock pivots around and approaches the team of eager science officers.

Jim prods Leonard with “Well?”

“Tell you later when pointy ears aren’t around.”

Jim nods and glances back at the mouth of the tunnel.

Leonard remembers, “Your ring!”

Kirk smiles slightly and opens a hand to reveal the object of his partner’s concern. “I don’t plan on losing it a second time.” He slides the band onto his thumb.

“You’re something else, Jim.”

Jim reaches out and tugs the doctor closer. “So are you, Bones.”

Together, they watch the scene unfold: Giotto wrangling his troops into some semblance of order; Scotty waving in a third group—engineers bearing rachets and wrenches; and standing the farthest away in a little huddle, the science officers are listening intently to their supervisor’s remarkably detailed explanation of the proper procedures for conducting a paranormal study.

“Bones, I think Spock might be as excited as they are.”

“Oh, he just needed a solid testimony to point to in case you demanded justification for why he let his staff loose in the Tubes. Nothing’s more solid than the captain of the ship saying he had a strange encounter too!” A soft kind of happiness creases the corners of the doctor’s eyes. “We’re in good company, Jim.”

“The best,” murmurs Kirk, squeezing his husband’s waist. “You ready?”

Leonard cocks an eyebrow. “One hundred credits says you scream when the ghost appears.”

Jim grins wolfishly. “Deal.”

Spock rejoins them. “If both of you scream, you will each pay me the hundred credits.”

“That’s not how betting works, Spock,” Jim says kindly.

After studying Spock, Leonard decides, “Apparently it is if you’re married to a Vulcan, Jim.”

Spock tilts his head ever-so-slightly in acknowledgment of this astute observation. Then, “Shall we proceed?”

Far, far along the tunnel, the creature perpetrating the screeech—whomp-whomp—boom tacks on a resounding thump-thump-thump at the end. Obviously, it agrees.

 

-Fini

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About KLMeri

Owner of SpaceTrio. Co-mod of McSpirk Holiday Fest. Fanfiction author of stories about Kirk, Spock, and McCoy.

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