0Title: Difficulty Engaged (11/11)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: During leave, trouble thwarts a good plan and causes Kirk and Spock to accelerate the timeline of their McCoy-centric agenda. But true to form, McCoy is already playing by a set of rules they don’t understand.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2| 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
“He’s mighty… large,” Mr. Scott observes, exiting the control room door at the back of the brig’s security area with a few tools in hand, “but we can handle him, Capt’n. As for that one, we installed the energy-dampening shields like Mr. Spock ordered. Although if the commander had not assisted with building the shields to spec, I cannae say the brig would be the best place for somebody like her.”
“If anyone can contain her, the Enterprise can,” says Jim, confident in his ship and crew.
Back turned, Chee pretends he doesn’t notice their attention but occasionally clacks his claws together in irritation like he’s thinking about what he would do if he could get a good grip on one of them. He won’t have the chance, though. They will make certain of that.
Kirk moves on from Chee’s cell to Ruti’s.
The woman in question stands in the middle of it. “My Lady?” she asks.
“Recovering. If McCoy approves, she may be able to visit you in a few days.” Kirk smiles humorlessly. “Supervised, of course.”
“Thank you, Captain Kirk.”
“We don’t stand on ceremony here.”
“Then my gratitude is not welcome?”
He drops the pretense at playing along. “Not by me.” Stepping closer to the force field, Kirk lowers his voice. “You hurt my officer. More than that, you hurt my friend. I think it’s fair that you should be punished.”
Her tone is almost bored. “And what will be my punishment?”
“When we reach our starbase, a legal counselor will explain your rights to you in full. The short version is either we will exile you from Federation space, or you will serve time in a penal colony, or some combination thereof. You didn’t kill anyone which is a point in your favor, but you could have and furthermore, you deliberately caused harm, which is against the law the same as kidnapping. Then there’s the collateral damage to consider too,” he adds grimly. “Yet you are luckier than most. McCoy plans to speak at your hearing and ask the court for leniency because that’s the kind of a person he is—a good one. A forgiving one.”
“I never asked for mercy.”
“Didn’t you,” he challenges sharply, “when you cried help?” When she doesn’t respond, he goes on, “Keep that in mind, Ruti. And no more breaking any rules, not near me. No more tricks.”
“You call them ‘tricks’ but they are part of my very being, Captain. If I demanded of you to stop breathing air and you tried, you would die. Consider it no different for my kind.”
“I haven’t asked you to hurt yourself, only to restrain from influencing others. In the Federation, to take away a person’s agency is a crime. If you want us to stay merciful, you would do well to take heed of that.”
Jim cannot tell if he is reaching her or not and in resignation starts to turn away before a thought comes to his mind. “One other thing,” he says. “If you want to thank someone, it should be Mr. Chee. He plea-bargained for your Lady. Whatever happens to you and him, she at least will be considered an innocent and have the Federation’s protection.”
Ruti’s face might have been a finely sculpted work of stone. “I have much to think on, Captain.”
And Kirk leaves her to do that.
Scotty shakes his head at Kirk’s return to his side. “That lass is so fragile-looking. I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to change your mind about her accommodations.”
“She could quite literally, Mr. Scott, if she tried,” intones the First Officer as he enters the security area.
“She is where she belongs,” Jim states firmly. “Report, Mr. Spock.”
“Dr. McCoy has finished his evaluation of the female patient. The area of the brain which is highly developed in Ruti is not so developed in her, and she lacks the extra organ which appears to absorb and channel pure energy through the body and to the brain. She consented to a light meld, and I confirmed the assessment that her telepathic abilities are minimal. By the Doctor’s orders, she will remain confined to the medical bay under surveillance.”
“The other one,” questions Kirk. “The cousin, how’s he?”
“His mental deterioration has progressed rapidly. The Doctor is uncertain of what to do for him.” Spock displays an unusual hesitation, then, as if the next subject is not easy to speak of. “The creatures, Jim. It was reported one was captured.”
“Wardyn and I spoke about it.”
And Jim had felt as disturbed as Wardyn sounded during the report: the port authorities found a single creature left, feeding off the corpses of the others. Yet there was no evidence to suggest that, without a primary focus for their aggression, the Scavengers had gone into a killing frenzy and destroyed each other. No one knows exactly how the beasts died, and the Prime no longer speaks coherently to give sensible replies. During her questioning, Ruti had acted like she knew nothing of the predators from her homeworld except to fear them. She gave no indication of thinking the creatures worth saving.
In truth what should be done with the surviving creature is a topic of debate. For the time being, it remains isolated in an animal-care facility on the station, and Jim is frankly grateful to have one less potential danger aboard his ship.
Kirk and Spock exit the brig together, heading to the nearest turbolift to meet up with McCoy in the transporter room. They have one last duty aboard the spaceport, and Kirk isn’t looking forward to it.
As they walk, he asks his companion, “Regulations aside, are we doing the right thing, initiating a first contact with Ruti’s race?”
“It would not be logical to define the whole of a race by one person’s actions. We must gather facts. And it seems a matter of course to want to greet one’s neighbors.”
“Some neighbors should be left alone,” mutters the captain.
“In this instance, I agree. But it is out of our hands, Jim. Whether we will it so or not, a door has been opened. Eventually someone will desire to step through it.”
“Then we must hope what lies on the other side is friendly.” And if it isn’t, thinks Kirk, they will find a way to deal with that too.
“It’s Captain Kirk!” The man speed-walking toward Kirk acts no different than most of the politicians McCoy has met throughout his life. The fellow snatches up Kirk’s hand and enthusiastically pumps it, crying, “Ah, Captain Kirk! The hero of the day!”
Jim has endeavored to learn some tact over the years. Extracting his hand without punching the guy is a win, in McCoy’s book.
Jim looks at his two senior officers like he expects to be rescued. When Spock and McCoy don’t move, just looking on like they haven’t a clue what he wants from them, the captain turns back to the Chief of Port to say with dismay, “Thank you but I can’t take all the credit.”
“Ah-ah-ah, don’t be so modest, Kirk,” tuts the Chief of Port, throwing an arm around Jim, spinning them both to face the retinue that had followed the politician into the small auditorium. “Lives were saved today! Imagine the damage those hostiles might have caused if not for your intervention! We owe you and Starfleet a great debt!”
McCoy follows Kirk’s sideways glance to a resigned-looking man standing stiffly at the back of the growing crowd. He had introduced himself earlier to Leonard as Wardyn, the officer in charge of the port’s security.
“The patrol officers are the heroes,” Jim says. “Their assistance was invaluable during the recovery operation.”
The Chief of Port stares at him in surprise before recovering to gasp loudly, “Of course! Where’s my Head of Security? Wardyn, there you are! Come, come!”
Kirk winks at Wardyn, who looks even more resigned now, and summarily hands over the Chief of Port to him with a few other well-placed words of gratitude. Then Jim hurries back to Spock and McCoy, making urgent little shooing motions.
“Ready to go so soon?” Leonard laughs at the man.
“I signed the paperwork and shook that odious man’s hand,” growls Kirk. “That’s all I can do… unless you want me to stun somebody.”
Leonard is still laughing. “Jim.”
A narrow-eyed Kirk lays a hand on the phaser tucked into his belt.
Spock contacts the ship right away.
Two days later, the door slides back to McCoy’s office to admit Kirk and Spock. Recent events have finally taken their toll on the doctor and he feels utterly exhausted. But at their entrance, weary or not, he rises from behind his desk to greet them.
Jim makes a quick assessment of Leonard before leading him to the short couch in the small private section of his office. “You look terrible, Bones.” And Jim doesn’t seem happy about that, along with a few other things. “I don’t recall giving my permission for your return to duty.”
All thoughts of admitting he could use some rest fly out of his head. “Patients don’t stop needing attention, Captain.” And he’s finding it difficult to fall asleep, afraid he might wake up to find himself somewhere else with no memory of how he got there. Ruti sure did a number of him and he knows it, even though on paper he has passed his psychological evaluation.
“But do they require your attention?” Spock asks, peering at Leonard from over Jim’s shoulder. “Dr. M’Benga seems perfectly capable of monitoring their progress.”
M’Benga is, and Leonard can’t say otherwise lest it seem like he doubts the man’s abilities when the truth is it has nothing to do with the man. Leonard would rather spend his energy worrying about somebody else than himself, and so here he is in his office.
Damn Spock for knowing that too, the crafty Vulcan.
“Jim,” Leonard tries but Kirk warns him not to press the matter further with a simple shake of his head. Slumping against the armrest, Leonard settles on what he can do: fixing his friends with his most irritable glare.
Except his glare must be tired and weak too. It has no effect on either man.
Jim sits beside him on the couch while Spock remains standing and takes the doctor’s hand in his own. Leonard knows a lecture is coming and rolls his eyes, already bored with it.
To his surprise, Jim says, “I think you owe us a little compassion, Bones. We’ve been scared for you.”
Displeasure melts to guilt and Leonard hunch his shoulders a little more. “What I owe you is an apology.”
“Bones.”
“No, let me say this. It’s my fault.” He hurries on to explain when Jim tensing with building protest, “I failed to be cautious when I ought to have known better, and that’s a fatal flaw in a Starfleet officer.” He swallows hard. “I saw somebody who needed help, acted on it, and I just… I didn’t consider the ramifications for the rest of you until it was too late. I’m asking your forgiveness because I’m as selfish as I am idiotic and I don’t want to be anywhere else except here, with you on the Enterprise. But I know you’re disappointed in me, Jim… both of you are. I know that, and I’m sorry.”
“Bones.” Jim pulls him into a gentle hug. “There’s nothing to forgive. You can’t blame yourself for what happened.”
Leonard huffs against Jim’s shoulder, blinking until the wet sheen over his eyes recedes. “Didn’t you hear a word I said? I’m not self-flagellating enough to believe Ruti kidnapping me is all my fault. I’m saying I made a poor judgment call. I know I could have done better, could have paid closer attention to figure out what she was up to.”
“I do not see how, Doctor,” Spock says. “You speak as if your kidnapper was someone whose motives could easily be anticipated. Ruti was unpredictable and furthermore entirely unknown. To make use of one of your sayings, the deck was stacked against you from the beginning. Therefore the reasoning behind why you have fault is quite illogical.”
Leonard pulls back from Jim to glare up at the Vulcan. “This is not the time for your blasted logic, Spock! Or do you want me to say it’s your fault!”
Spock’s head dips ever-so-slightly. “That may be more accurate. I was the one who lost sight of you at the station.”
Leonard is gaping at him one second and at the next, on his feet, furious. “Why, you—I lost you! On purpose! There’s not a damn thing you did wrong!”
“Why did you remove yourself from my company?”
Leonard’s speech falters a moment. “I didn’t understand why you were so interested.”
“Then you admit I am indirectly at fault for the situation which occurred.”
Leonard wants to shake sense into Spock, but it’d never get past his thick skull. “If you say that one more time, I’ll knock that martyrdom right out you!”
Jim stands up as if he thinks he might be needed to stop McCoy from making the attempt.
“If I cannot blame myself for a mistake, Dr. McCoy, then in the spirit of fairness, neither should you be blamed for your mistake.”
Leonard always imagined logical thinking to be synonymous with straightforward thinking but Spock excels at being the most roundabout logical being in the galaxy. Flustered and irritated, Leonard doesn’t know how to argue against him. Worse yet, he hates not having the last word.
“As your captain, I have the final say,” Jim declares because naturally the last word goes to Jim if it doesn’t go to Spock. “I was transmitted my command log to Headquarters yesterday. In it was the expert opinion that no Starfleet officer bears fault in this incident.” Jim’s eyes gleam. “I might have thrown around a few commendations too.”
Leonard crosses his arms over his chest. “Whose expert opinion?”
“Mine and Spock’s.”
“Jim, you’re incorrigible.”
“I’m right.”
“I suppose those two things mean the same to you.”
Jim drapes an arm across the doctor’s shoulders. “Have you eaten, Bones?”
“He has not.”
“Tracking my meals, you nosy Vulcan? That’s a blatant abuse of authority,” he chastises.
“The well-being of this ship’s senior officers is my prerogative, Doctor.”
“No, only the Captain is the First Officer’s—”
“Ah, Bones,” Jim interrupts him, smiling fondly, “you know there’s no changing Spock’s mind about his duties.”
Leonard harrumphs and mutters his opinion of Vulcan stubbornness under his breath.
Spock doesn’t seem offended by it. He informs Kirk and McCoy, “I have taken the liberty of placing an order with the kitchen staff for our dinner. If you prefer a private venue, I should like to offer my quarters.”
Jim’s smile widens. Had he been anticipating the offer? wonders McCoy.
They must be up to something. Leonard can figure that much out even if he doesn’t know exactly what they’re planning.
His stomach, however, has the unfortunate timing of making the decision over his participation for him, growling vocally now someone other than McCoy is around to pay attention to its needs.
“Spock’s place,” Jim decides and guides McCoy into the corridor with the Vulcan in close attendance.
As they traverse the deck, McCoy notices many crewmen curiously pausing a moment to watch them stroll by. However no officer actively tries to stall or delay them with conversation beyond a perfunctory greeting.
That’s just as well, decides the doctor, because he indulges in a distraction right now, he might lose his resolve to start a conversation with Jim and Spock about personal aspects of their encounter with Ruti that were surely not included in the report to Command. No admiral would want to know about Leonard’s captor’s claims regarding three prominent flagship officers being in love or to learn the extent to which Spock’s unique Vulcan talents assisted in McCoy’s safe return. No doubt any such mentions would be immediately redacted and then driven out of the reader’s head with plenty of alcohol.
No, those particular matters must be addressed separately and without an audience.
Leonard can’t say he is particularly looking forward to it, yet ironically at the same time he holds the sincere hope the discussion goes in his favor.
He sneaks a glance at Jim and Spock, wondering if the hope could be mutual.
They arrive at Spock’s cabin door. Kirk goes inside first and then Leonard, ushered forward by the lightest graze of fingers at his back. A thought comes to him, soothing and without doubt and, as always, pointedly logical: hope is the natural course for love.
Jim doesn’t ask why Leonard is flushed, just touches his cheek briefly as he says, “You always look after us. This time, let Spock and I look after you.”
And how can a man deny a such heartfelt request?
“Is it odd,” Leonard says some time later after the meal wraps up and he, Spock, and Jim are just wiling away time together over an after-dinner drink, “that I think Ruti could make a difference among her people?”
“Being optimistic isn’t odd, Bones.”
“Normally I’d say it’s a pipe dream. She didn’t want to consider any alternatives or to negotiate, not really. But we showed her living isn’t always about fighting, and surely that means something.”
“It does make a difference,” Spock agrees. “Your people are an example of that, as are mine—and many others in the Federation. But to act differently requires a choice. We have done what we can. The rest will depend on what she learned, and the message she shares with her world’s leaders if she chooses to share one at all.”
She could easily bargain for exile, return to her homeworld to take her cousin’s place as Clan Prime, all without having learned a damn thing. At that thought, he finishes his drink in one go. Then he toys with the empty glass, frowning.
“Something else on your mind?” Jim asks, deciding to watch him instead of enjoying the rest of his own drink.
Where to start? It would be simpler if they still had the luxury of being mind-linked because Leonard is good at feeling emotions but not necessarily at expressing them.
He tries anyway. “I suppose I understand myself a little better than I did before… everything happened. I think she understood me even if I didn’t at the time.”
“How so?” Spock questions in an even tone when Leonard doesn’t immediately elaborate.
“The megastore and the bar,” he says, “remember? When Ruti said she hadn’t been fooled at all, I thought she let your antics play out because of a mean kind of curiosity. Now I think,” he concludes, voice quieter, “she saw two men willing to fight for someone they loved. Out of respect for that, she let them.”
“Was that her true reason?” Jim asks.
Leonard shrugs. “Who could say for certain. But she was fighting too because she loved somebody.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of Kirk’s mouth. He neither confirms nor denies anything else McCoy is implying. Spock is suspiciously silent, too, for having been so unrepentantly affectionate on the space station.
Leonard sets his empty tumbler down with the grumble, “I’m warning you now, I’ve never had the patience of a saint.”
“Wait just a while longer,” Jim encourages him, eyes twinkling. “Spock and I had a plan. We still do.”
Strangely enough, Leonard is mollified. After all, there isn’t much any of them can deny after having lived in each other’s heads for hours, is there?
And Ruti’s remarks had been as matter-of-fact as they could be bitter and disapproving. When she said they loved each other, she was speaking a simple truth.
Yes, Leonard can wait a few more days for the dust to settle. The three of them aren’t going anywhere—except, that is, back to shore leave.
When McCoy had said he had a purpose to return to the station, he hadn’t been asking for an entourage. But this is what he gets for his trouble of being forthright and earnest, and nobody in their right mind would be happy about having upwards of a dozen officers in tow for what amounts to a quick shopping trip.
He doesn’t understand why those from Security look so uncomfortably tense (the danger is over! the villains are caught!), or why Uhura and Chekov are stuck to his sides like glue with Sulu taking up the rear guard, or how it is even possible Scotty could decide to let the Enterprise’s engines out of his sight for any length of time.
The main reason Spock and Jim haven’t made nuisances of themselves too is that Leonard flat-out refused their company and told them to stay home, essentially, or forget about any ‘future plans’ they kept teasing him about. Upset by this, Jim might have pulled the captain card had Spock not suddenly decided (based on no factual evidence Leonard can discern) that the doctor’s purpose in denying them escort privileges is due to them being the reason for the last-minute shopping venture. Jim had instantly wanted to know what kind of presents McCoy had in mind for him. In response, Leonard had flicked the big baby on the forehead and let Uhura kick the two idiots out of the transporter room.
Being resigning to a very long wait while all his many, many minders arranged themselves into transporting parties is a small price to pay in McCoy’s experience for Jim and Spock to accept not tagging along. Get kidnapped one time, and people never leave you on your own again.
Therefore the sooner the Enterprise puts distance and time between them and this port, the better for Leonard—after making a few memorable purchases, of course.
Jim had looked like an absolute lunatic in that tourist wear. Leonard tells Uhura, Chekov, and Sulu this with a gleeful tone while he rifles through a rack of atrociously designed t-shirts. His coworkers gasp in delight at the idea of their captain wearing more terrible (and terribly funny) outfits and so spend the afternoon helping Leonard select an entire civilian wardrobe for Kirk. The look on the man’s face will be priceless when he next opens his close, and Leonard can’t wait. Also, because Jim is a lovable idiot who thinks of his crew like family, he will wear the clothes with pride.
Uhura leans into the doctor surreptitiously to whisper, “Stop tearing up. Somebody might think you’re buying for your husband instead of your best friend.”
“The day I marry a bonehead like Jim Kirk is the day pigs fly.”
Sulu leans around his other side to say dryly, “I know a planet that has flying pigs.”
Chekov pops up behind from a bargain bin several clothes racks over, wearing half the things he has picked out. “Who’s getting married!” he exclaims.
McCoy flings a hat with flaps at the kid’s head. “Nobody!”
“But just a few days ago you were clutching Mr. Spock—”
Leonard pitches a sandal next. Chekov dodges it nimbly and shuts up.
“Ooh,” Uhura says, her eyes glittering. “Do tell, McCoy.”
Leonard is going to die from embarrassment. No, hold on, he’s going to kill that snitch Chekov first and then he can die of embarrassment. Why, oh why, did he ever think it wouldn’t backfire in some spectacular way to hold onto Spock?
And Spock has basically said Leonard is allowed to do it again.
Leonard ignores Uhura’s prodding and Sulu’s motioning Scotty away from the superstore’s buffet snack bar to join in for this oh-so-fun tale and instead resolutely pretends to try on sun visors to hide a blush.
“There are appetizers on the food bar that move,” Scotty remarks as he comes over, grinning. “Who’s up for a challenge?”
“Twenty credits if it crawls,” Sulu answers promptly. “Thirty if it has appendages.”
“Save your money for your medical bill,” Leonard advises. “I heard the ward here is subpar and still expensive.”
Sulu and Scotty just stare at him before wandering over to the nearest security team to find out who else wants to join their grand adventure.
Uhura’s laughter is light and genuine. “This is why we usually come down in smaller groups for shore leave. Stupidity compounds quickly.”
“Spock won’t be sad to miss it but Jim will.”
The woman slants a look his way. “I have a confession, Dr. McCoy.”
There is no galaxy in which Nyota Uhura can say that and not make a man nervous. “Oh?” he queries after clearing his throat.
“I’m a double agent.” She smiles too sweetly. “And you’re about to get kidnapped again.”
He can only stare at her dumbly until that announcement sinks in. Then he shoves all the items he wanted to buy Jim into his shopping cart and demands, “What part of ‘a trip without you’ don’t those two knuckleheads understand! Where are they hiding, Lieutenant? I’ve got a bone to pick!”
She signals Chekov over to give the young man dominion over the shopping cart and then steers Leonard toward the store’s exit. When a few Security men try to follow, she freezes where they stand with a look.
Jim and Spock are waiting outside the superstore, one smiling and the other seeming like he might have something to regret.
“Here is your doctor, Captain,” Uhura tells Kirk as she gives Leonard a slight push toward the pair.
“Well done, Uhura,” Kirk praises her. “We’ll personally look after him and return him to the ship safe and sound. Inform the others to be at ease.”
Uhura leaves them with an accepting nod.
Jim slides an arm under Leonard’s elbow, offering Leonard a look usually reserved for the moments when the fairer sex bats their eyelashes at him. “Bones, don’t be too angry. This was the best way to surprise you.”
“I should have known,” Leonard says. “Well? This can’t be the whole plan. Where are you stealing me off to?”
Jim passes Leonard to Spock, who guides the doctor with a gentle touch to his lower back into crossing the thoroughfare.
Leonard huffs but goes willingly. “By the way, one of you might want to lend me a communicator.”
“Why?”
“So I can tell my nurses to prep some stomach pumps. Scotty started an eating contest without taking note of the food-grade by the entrance.”
“Not again,” Jim sighs, as Spock wordlessly hands over his communicator.
Leonard is a sentimental fool, and Jim and Spock are romantics.
The doctor leans against the railing of the port’s public observatory. “So your intentions were honorable, huh, Spock?” He looks over at the Vulcan silhouetted by starlight. “Is courtship something Vulcans do?”
“Not in the strictest sense of the word. Most matches are pre-arranged and the pair bonded at a young age. They are then allowed to come to know each other over the course of several decades before choosing whether or not to proceed with the formal marriage ceremony.”
“Your parents must have been the exception,” Jim says, looking past Leonard to Spock.
“Naturally. They met off-world and fell in love.”
“I wonder which has the better outcome,” Leonard muses.
“I would assert that I am biased,” Spock responds as if the comment is meant to be answered, “as I have only my own experiences to draw from. However, it seems to me the freedom to choose the one you might love should be preferred.”
“Is that what we’re doing?” Leonard asks. “Selecting each other?”
Jim squeezes McCoy’s waist. “I think the point is we don’t have to choose. Spock and I worked that out already.”
“Jim felt uncertain over the equity of affections. I was aware of his concern, of course, from the moment he proposed the arrangement and assumed some demonstration would be required to convince him it was not an issue.”
Jim huffs out a laugh. “When your thoughts are telling me how much you like me, Spock, why shouldn’t I believe it?”
Leonard rolls his eyes. “Of course it never occurred either of you to just say you liked the other.”
Spock cocks an eyebrow. “We agreed that we liked you.”
“Watch it,” blusters Leonard, “I haven’t said it back!”
Neither man appears to take his threat very seriously. And of course Leonard already knows he is head over heels for them. Love isn’t an easy thing to undo.
“Bones, you make me very happy,” Jim says because he’s a sap who is unashamed of being one.
Leonard likes to think he is the toughest of the three, but the truth is he’s too soft under his prickly interior not to melt when somebody says something sappy to him.
So he gives Jim a little nudge, and Jim understands what it means and also says, “Spock, you make me very happy too.”
“Yes, as you have informed me previously, Jim, on the way to pick up Leonard and before that, when we decided to confess to him, and before that, during the mind-meld.”
“A simple ‘thank you’ would’ve done,” Leonard complains. “Jim, is he being smug or sassy? I can’t tell.”
“Both. As Spock explains it, Bones, by merging our minds together, we exchanged the Vulcan equivalent of engagement rings.”
“What! We haven’t even dated yet! I can’t be engaged!” Leonard barely manages to extricate his arm from Jim’s hold to stab a finger under the Vulcan’s nose. Spock blinks at it. “What the hell other weird cultural differences do we not know about, Spock!”
“How much time do you have?” quips the Vulcan, and only Jim bursting out in laughter saves Spock from Leonard’s wrath.
Kirk tugs both Spock and McCoy back from the railing and toward the walkway that leads to the main lift. “Come along, gentlemen. That Chief of Port was good for something after all. We have dinner reservations at the fanciest joint in town.”
Leonard is content to give his idiot Vulcan a short reprieve from his temper for a chance at a decent meal. “Fancy means not replicated. Count me in, Jim.”
As they return to the main thoroughfare, McCoy notes the port has a nightlife that seems busier than the daytime tourism. The crowds aren’t exactly friendly-looking but he is safe given the company he’s in, and he is confident that at least today will become good memories to supersede any unpleasant ones over time.
They are passing by a storefront when something in its display window catches Leonard’s eye. Jim and Spock stop walking when he pauses there to look more closely into the window.
“You want to go in?” Jim asks, moving to stand beside him. “We have a few minutes.”
Spock circles to McCoy’s other side to stare at the display, and it’s gratifying that the Vulcan seems as deeply interested in what has caught McCoy’s attention as the first time they had visited the area. Some things haven’t changed, it seems, and those things have, changed for the better.
McCoy shakes his head slightly, going on gut instinct not to say anything about the object in the window, the very twin to the outdated medkit Chee had thrown into his hands some days ago. “No, I’m good.”
The store’s entrance bounces open as a group of customers exuberantly spill out to the street, arms full of purchases, chattering among themselves. Someone lingers behind them looking smug, likely the shop owner.
Jim takes one look at the fellow in the doorway, pales, and swiftly pivots Spock and McCoy to face away just in time to avoid catching the shopkeeper’s attention.
“Move,” Jim orders them with a harried whisper and starts pushing them doggedly in the opposite direction without waiting.
The shopkeeper shrugs and steps back into the store, calling out to some helper or other, “Barters Above, put that jar down, you big lump! Those nougats are for customers!”
When Leonard digs in his heels several blocks down, he demands, “Jim, let up already, the restaurant is the other way! What’s with you?”
Jim shakes himself from head to toe and starts wheezing with amused relief like a man who just dodged a fatal phaser blast.
Concerned, Leonard looks him over before turning to Spock for an explanation. The Vulcan suggests, “We may be better served to conclude our shore leave aboard the Enterprise.”
“Yeah,” agrees Jim, trying and failing to look like he simply okay with the idea, not completely thrilled. “Absolutely. Before another problem comes up.”
Leonard has a feeling he has missed something just now but it can wait. After all, Jim has just said the words Leonard has wanted to hear for the entirety of their acquaintance.
A grin breaks across his face. “Did my ears just trick me, Jim, or are you actively stating you don’t want any trouble?”
Jim opens his mouth, closes it again, and ends up smiling faintly. “I think I have all the trouble I can handle right here,” he says, laying one hand against McCoy’s back and then the other hand on Spock’s shoulder.
“Who’re you calling trouble?” retorts an indignant Leonard.
“Objectively speaking, neither Leonard nor I have entertained as many troubles as you have, Jim.”
Amusement settles into Kirk’s expression, a sparkle lighting his eyes. “That’s certain to change.”
“Oh lord,” Leonard says with finality. “Spock, he thinks we’re challenging him to get us into trouble more often!”
“I am well aware of how Jim’s mind works, Leonard, just as I know you appreciate being included in his adventures.”
“Lies!” Leonard pokes the Vulcan’s collarbone, taking a perverse pleasure in being able to do so. That will teach Spock to declare he feels perfectly okay with being touched!
Spock captures his finger and refuses to release it until Leonard’s face reddens.
“Gentlemen, may I remind you that we’re in public,” Jim purrs, tugging the men closer to him despite the foot traffic has long-since adjusted to move around their blocking of the sidewalk. Most passers-by don’t seem interested in making eye contact with their drama.
Leonard points across the street to a drone flitting around, remarking dryly, “If we’re not careful, we’ll be on the news.”
Spock blinks, looks up, and informs them in his most matter-of-fact tone, “We likely already are.”
When Jim and Leonard snap their heads back, the news drone hovering over them widens is its singular camera lens like a naughty child caught at eavesdropping. Then it speeds off.
Kirk pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closing. McCoy wets his bottom lip. Spock resolutely flips open a communicator and asks the Enterprise to fetch them home expediently.
Tomorrow, headlines and speculation will take the spaceport—and later on, the galaxy—by storm. The Chief of Port will choke on his morning coffee; two best friends will share that jar of nougats and congratulate themselves on their role in the happily-ever-after; Wardyn will take that desperately needed vacation with his wife; and, lastly, the crew of the USS Enterprise, all of whom will seem hardly shocked compared to everyone else, shall happily comply with their captain’s orders to disregard the paparazzi and reboard the ship so that they can leave port.
Captain Kirk Spotted On A Date After Fight With Mind Invaders!
Footage of Starfleet’s Most Famous Officer And His Paramours!
Eyewitnesses Claim Kirk-Spock-McCoy Romance Inevitable!
And the best headline shall appear after an emergency convening of those with the most at stake regarding this new development, born of days of teeth-gnashing, of heated and tearful disagreements, and sad social media posts:
Fans Demand Wedding of the Century As Compensation for Kirk’s Lost Bachelorhood!
An entertained Leonard McCoy saves every one of them in his private memory album, to be shared at a future date with his some-day husbands.
The End
Related Posts:
- Difficulty Engaged (10/11) – from June 28, 2020
- Difficulty Engaged (9/10) – from June 21, 2020
- Difficulty Engaged (8/10) – from June 12, 2020
- Difficulty Engaged (7/10) – from November 29, 2019
- Difficulty Engaged (6/10) – from September 19, 2019
