[ST XI] FIC: Positive Reinforcement
Title: Positive Reinforcement
Author: evening_bat
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 550
Warnings: Uh, Kirk being Kirk?
Summary: Good deeds deserve appropriate rewards.
Notes: This is entirely omphaloskepsist’s fault. ALL OF IT. She said That Line and Kirk sat right up in my head and announced that it was a great idea! Bones (and I) never had a chance. And thus, this cracky little ficbit.
Positive Reinforcement
When the door to McCoy’s office swished open, he wasn’t surprised to see Jim lounging decoratively in his doorway. McCoy raised a sardonic eyebrow at Jim’s expansive grin and radiant good mood.
“Something I can do for you, Jim?” he asked.
“Nah, Bones, I’m good,” Jim answered brightly, strolling into his office and sprawling into the chair opposite McCoy’s desk. “In fact, I’m great.”
“I can see that,” McCoy replied dryly. “I take it that the Lady Chancellor was, ah, grateful for your dramatic rescue?”
“Exceedingly,” Jim said and McCoy had to admit that the man looked very well...thanked.
“Perks of being a dashing captain, huh?” he prodded acerbically.
“Now, now, Bones,” Jim chided, wagging a finger in mock-admonishment. “If I saved your life, I’d make out with you too.”
McCoy snorted. “As if you’ve ever needed that much of an excuse to swap spit with anyone.”
“True,” Jim agreed cheerfully. “Why limit your opportunities?”
“Besides,” McCoy continued, “I save your life on a regular basis, you reckless bastard, and I’ve never felt the need to plant one on you.”
Jim’s frown was half a shade of petulance away from a pout. “Your loss, Bones.”
McCoy rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the PADD he’d been working on when Jim arrived. “Hell, with the number of times I’ve put you back together, you ought to owe me a few shows of gratitude by now.”
The profound silence that followed in the wake of his absent declaration prompted McCoy to mentally rewind his last words.
His head snapped up, eyes going wide in dismay.
“No, wait! I take that back!” he blurted hastily.
Too little, far too late.
Jim’s smug grin had brightened into an unholy smirk. “Why, Bones! You’re absolutely right!”
McCoy scrambled out of his chair, brandishing his PADD defensively as Jim straightened gracefully to his feet, advancing steadily towards him. “This once, I’d be happy to be wrong,” he snapped.
“But Bones!” Jim interrupted, easily avoiding his flailing attempts at defense and stalking him across the office, eyes fixed on his mouth, “I wouldn’t want you to think I don’t appreciate all your hard work...”
“So buy me a case of bourbon and we’ll call it even!”
“Mm,” Jim shook his head as he pinned McCoy against the wall. “Lacks the personal touch.”
After that, well, it was kind of hard to argue with a man who was sticking his tongue down your throat.
Goddamn it. If Jim took it into his head that this was what he got for nearly getting himself killed on a regular basis, McCoy was going to have to start putting out to get Jim on anything close to his best behaviour.
“The things I do for you,” he pulled back far enough to mutter, hands busy sliding under Jim’s shirt.
“I can think of all sorts of things you could to to me, if you prefer?” Jim offered brightly.
McCoy mentally shrugged and sealed their mouths together again. Jim had always been a quick study and McCoy had aced his psych practicals. The Enterprise was an unconventional ship. If a bit of operant conditioning helped keep her captain safe, who was the CMO to argue with success?
Fin
This is also part of a semi-desperate attempt to put down White Collar and Chuck long enough to get some work done on my Star Trek Big Bang attempt. (Rough drafts due in a month, OMG. Nowhere near done, OMG. Not even close, OMG.) Matt Bomer characters, why must you be so fascinating??
Author: evening_bat
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 550
Warnings: Uh, Kirk being Kirk?
Summary: Good deeds deserve appropriate rewards.
Notes: This is entirely omphaloskepsist’s fault. ALL OF IT. She said That Line and Kirk sat right up in my head and announced that it was a great idea! Bones (and I) never had a chance. And thus, this cracky little ficbit.
Positive Reinforcement
When the door to McCoy’s office swished open, he wasn’t surprised to see Jim lounging decoratively in his doorway. McCoy raised a sardonic eyebrow at Jim’s expansive grin and radiant good mood.
“Something I can do for you, Jim?” he asked.
“Nah, Bones, I’m good,” Jim answered brightly, strolling into his office and sprawling into the chair opposite McCoy’s desk. “In fact, I’m great.”
“I can see that,” McCoy replied dryly. “I take it that the Lady Chancellor was, ah, grateful for your dramatic rescue?”
“Exceedingly,” Jim said and McCoy had to admit that the man looked very well...thanked.
“Perks of being a dashing captain, huh?” he prodded acerbically.
“Now, now, Bones,” Jim chided, wagging a finger in mock-admonishment. “If I saved your life, I’d make out with you too.”
McCoy snorted. “As if you’ve ever needed that much of an excuse to swap spit with anyone.”
“True,” Jim agreed cheerfully. “Why limit your opportunities?”
“Besides,” McCoy continued, “I save your life on a regular basis, you reckless bastard, and I’ve never felt the need to plant one on you.”
Jim’s frown was half a shade of petulance away from a pout. “Your loss, Bones.”
McCoy rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the PADD he’d been working on when Jim arrived. “Hell, with the number of times I’ve put you back together, you ought to owe me a few shows of gratitude by now.”
The profound silence that followed in the wake of his absent declaration prompted McCoy to mentally rewind his last words.
His head snapped up, eyes going wide in dismay.
“No, wait! I take that back!” he blurted hastily.
Too little, far too late.
Jim’s smug grin had brightened into an unholy smirk. “Why, Bones! You’re absolutely right!”
McCoy scrambled out of his chair, brandishing his PADD defensively as Jim straightened gracefully to his feet, advancing steadily towards him. “This once, I’d be happy to be wrong,” he snapped.
“But Bones!” Jim interrupted, easily avoiding his flailing attempts at defense and stalking him across the office, eyes fixed on his mouth, “I wouldn’t want you to think I don’t appreciate all your hard work...”
“So buy me a case of bourbon and we’ll call it even!”
“Mm,” Jim shook his head as he pinned McCoy against the wall. “Lacks the personal touch.”
After that, well, it was kind of hard to argue with a man who was sticking his tongue down your throat.
Goddamn it. If Jim took it into his head that this was what he got for nearly getting himself killed on a regular basis, McCoy was going to have to start putting out to get Jim on anything close to his best behaviour.
“The things I do for you,” he pulled back far enough to mutter, hands busy sliding under Jim’s shirt.
“I can think of all sorts of things you could to to me, if you prefer?” Jim offered brightly.
McCoy mentally shrugged and sealed their mouths together again. Jim had always been a quick study and McCoy had aced his psych practicals. The Enterprise was an unconventional ship. If a bit of operant conditioning helped keep her captain safe, who was the CMO to argue with success?
Fin
This is also part of a semi-desperate attempt to put down White Collar and Chuck long enough to get some work done on my Star Trek Big Bang attempt. (Rough drafts due in a month, OMG. Nowhere near done, OMG. Not even close, OMG.) Matt Bomer characters, why must you be so fascinating??