Welcome to Paradise
Title: Welcome to Paradise
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: PG-13
Series: Belief in Angels
Summary: In which Bones is an alcoholic and a marriage counselor--in that order--and for two geniuses Jim and Spock can be real idiots sometimes.
James Tiberius Kirk has approximately twelve different smiles. And the difference between Bones and Spock is that Spock has them all, like, categorized and filed and probably fucking color-coded in that Vulcan brain of his. Or something. And Bones just knows how to read them. Somehow. It's like how Jim has that infuriating way of reading the damned hobgoblin's mind just by the way he lifts one of those eyebrows (which Bones is never getting used to, he's sure).
But see, that's only half of it. And the other half is this: Jim smiles one hell of a lot.
There's that cocky half-grin he gets just before he does something just as brilliant as it is unbelievably stupid. And that soft, flirty smile, which Bones is half-convinced created Jim's playboy image itself. There's the joy when he's pulled off yet another victory when they all should have died. And then there's… well, he isn't exactly sure how to describe it, and he suspects there's only one person who gets it anyway. Because there's only one person in the universe who's ever been on the receiving end of that smile. Spock.
And that's what gets Bones worried, initially.
Thing is, Jim is fucked up. There are times Bones is absolutely sure he's clinically insane. But somehow, the kid is one of the most damned happy people Bones has ever met. He flirts like he breathes, and Bones knows from experience that even when everyone's busy writing out their metaphorical last will and testament Jim's up in his chair making jokes. So yeah, Jimmy's a bit crazy, but somehow that makes him a genius. And no one seems to mind the captain's personal kind of madness when more often than not that's what keeps them all breathing.
So you'd think it'd be pretty easy to tell when to be worried. But Jim's always been deceptively simple. Luckily for his liver (because yes, he has an alcohol problem, but in his defense, it would be a whole helluva lot worse if he didn't know Jim so well), Bones knows a trick or two for deciphering exactly when to be worried and when to sit back and let the kid do his thing (not without a little grumbling, but it's Bones. That's his MO).
So see this. This is one of those times when he should be worried.
Because you can get rid of everything else. The flirtatiousness, the cockiness, everything.
But the minute the Spock-smile (as Bones likes to think of it) goes, that's when Bones knows everything is going to shit. He still doesn't get what it is, and he doubts he ever will, but there's something about that Vulcan. No matter how screwed Bones (and the rest of the crew for that matter) thinks they are, no matter how many people die, no matter where they're trapped, unable to beam back to the Enterprise, if the captain is flirting with Spock Bones knows it's going to be okay. And it's a weird way of gauging things, sure, but it works.
Besides, the whole fucking ship is crazy anyway, so why the hell not?
Now, Bones doesn't usually like hanging around the bridge. Sure, he'll go up when Jim needs him for something, or if it's an especially slow day in sickbay and he's feeling masochistic enough to see what's going on up there, but for the most part he minds his own goddamn business, because that's what friends do. Besides, if he's going to have to worry about the whole damn crew (which he does), he might as well be as close to his bourbon stash as possible. Hell, just dealing with Jim warrants that. But 400-something other people, too? Forget it.
Long story short, this means Bones doesn't really catch on for a couple days. And that almost makes him feel guilty, what with being Jim's best friend and all, but Jesus, they've all got their jobs to do, all right? And Bones really can't be worried about what he may or may not have overheard Uhura talking to Chapel about.
It's not like Bones really wants to know about Jim's love life anyway. Because he doesn't really have a problem getting in Jim's face if he has to, but this is just one of those things. They have rules. (That, and Bones got enough of Jim's love-well, sex life at the Academy, and he's really glad that's over with. So's his liver.)
So he doesn't go up to the bridge, and when he hears it from the girls he doesn't say anything. Which may make him seem like he doesn't give a shit, but if there's one thing you just can't accuse Bones of, it's not giving a shit. This is partially why he and the hobgoblin argue so much (though to be fair, Bones has always had the older brother thing with Jim, and the older brother just isn't allowed to get along with the boyfriend). But that's beside the point.
The point is, Jim and Spock don't fight. Okay, so they had a couple of knock-down drag-outs for awhile there (and motherfucker, Bones still doesn't know how they all survived that), but these days, nothing. It's like they're trying to make up for what happened back then, even when they're angry at each other. It makes Bones want to clobber the both of them. But he doesn't, because Spock is stronger than he is and Jim. . . Well, let's just say it wouldn't fix anything.
And of course Bones sort of knows already. So he's not exactly surprised when Jim shows up in his office on a night he knows Bones is working late.
Bones breaks out the booze before Jim can even say anything.
And that makes Jim laugh, but there's a nervous tinge to it, like he isn't really sure he wants to be there. Bones doesn't take it personally. He's been through this kind of thing way too many times to get upset about it. Instead, he just pulls another bottle out of his cabinet, holding them up.
"Got any preference?" he asks.
Jim shakes his head, and Bones goes for the whiskey. He really should have been a bartender instead of a doctor, with the way he can tell exactly what kind of drink Jim needs at any given time. And he's feeling a little smug, he'll admit it (take that, ya green-blooded bastard. You ain't the only one with fuckin' telepathy).
So Jim sits down, and Bones takes a deep breath because he knows this is going to be a long night.
And okay, he shouldn't judge or anything. Really. He can't, considering the fights he had with Jocelyn there at the end. And that makes him shudder a little, but Jim doesn't seem to notice.
But anyway, Bones really wants to ask what the hell Jim and Spock are not-fighting about this time, but he knows better. Jim'll talk when he feels like it, and that's usually not until after a couple drinks, cause times like this it don't matter how long he and Bones have known each other, he still gets all nervous. Like he doesn't wanna seem… weak or something. Which is stupid, cause Bones has seen him all sorts of drunk, been through every goddamn birthday (and for that, Bones breaks out the Romulan ale, because that's all he can do to get Jim through it), dealt with every single fucking second of every crisis in the kid's life since he was eighteen. But still. It's weird, but it's a Jim thing. And Bones doesn't question shit like that, cause what's the point?
Jim takes the drink Bones hands him, and Bones can tell from the way he just stares at it for a minute that he really just wants to talk. Like the booze is just an excuse. But he can't exactly be sure of that, and it doesn't matter all that much cause Jim starts talking after the first glass anyway.
"Fuck," he starts, and it's more like a breath than a curse. "Fuck." And he's leaning back in his chair, putting his feet up on Bones's desk, which Bones would never let him do normally. But he figures cutting in and hollering at him isn't the best way to remedy the situation. So he doesn't say anything. He just waits for Jim to start.
"He isn't talking to me."
Jim just lets it hang in the air for a second, his head leaned back, his glass dangling absently in his hand.
Bones pours himself another glass, waiting.
"He just fucking stonewalls me, and I've tried to talk to him about it, but he just goes all fucking Vulcan on me. Like. . . Fuck. Just fuck."
Bones just sighs, cause really? He's no good at this shit. He's a damn good doctor, but he's not a fucking shrink. But he tries cause, well, Jim's his best friend and all, and they get each other in a weird way. And if there's one person's head Bones can fix, it's Jim's. Most of the time.
So he pulls himself together, takes a sip of his drink, and rubs his temple.
"Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not a marriage counselor." And he doesn't say it accusingly, doesn't say it like he's pissed, cause he isn't. He says it like he doesn't know what else to say, cause he doesn't.
Jim shrinks away a little when he says that, like he wants to leave. And goddammit. Bones wishes he was as good with Jim as Spock is. And he really hates to admit that. But Spock just seems to know. And that pisses Bones off a little, especially right now, when neither of them will just get a fucking clue already.
And he wants to make a joke about how the crew is probably glad Jim and Spock aren't talking so they don't have to deal with their flirting on the bridge anymore. But he isn't sure this is the best time for that.
It's almost ridiculous, really, that they're still able to fight like this even after everything they've been through. And Bones thinks it's a bit funny, because the whole damned crew sees them as this power couple, the ones that never fight, that know each other and deal with each other like it's nothing. Bones has to admit it; he's kind of in awe of the two of them sometimes. But he'll never tell Jim that.
So it's a little bit hilarious that they're having a stupid fight like every other married couple in the universe. And Bones is really tempted to lift his glass and say, "Welcome to the real world, Jimmy boy." But he doesn't, for obvious reasons.
Grandiose speeches and shit don't come to Bones easily. He's the kind of guy who'll mutter to himself and make his point quickly and without ceremony. But Jim is looking so damn pathetic sitting there, and Bones has to knock some sense into the kid. Here goes nothing.
"So I'm gonna say this once, and I'm not gonna say it again, goddammit, you hear me, Jim?" And Bones knows even as he's saying it that it's a lie, that he's gonna be saying this again sometime in the future, but he wants to get Jim's attention, because for a genius the kid can be really dense.
So Jim nods, slowly, and Bones keeps going. "Now I don't know much about bein' in love, I'll tell you that right now. But I ain't dumb, and I ain't blind. And shit, neither is anybody else. Cause I'm telling ya, fucking everyone knows how much you two idiots love each other. But fuck, Jim. Nobody, and I mean nobody, goes through as much as you do and loves each other that much without fighting. And ya know what? At least then yer talking, even if you've gotta scream at each other for awhile. Now I know you two are capable of one hellraiser of an argument. You can do it without killing each other. That's how this shit works."
Jim drains his glass, leaning forward to place it back on the table. Bones doesn't say anything else, even though he sort of wants to tell Jim that Spock really loves him, that there's probably a reason he's being like this, but he knows that's not really up to him to say. So he just waits for Jim to say something.
"You're right." There's none of the usual teasing, no skirting around the hard stuff. And Bones is strangely kind of proud of Jim for that.
"I know damn well I'm right," he says gruffly. "Now go talk to Spock about it so we can all get some sanity around here."
Jim grins (and thank fucking God for that). "Thanks a lot, Bones."
Bones is kept busy over the next couple days by something or other, so he doesn't see Jim until he shows up in Bones's office one night, with that smile on his face that can only mean one thing. . .
"Either you and Spock made up or he's going to be even more pissed at you than he already is."
Jim laughs. "Oh, we made up all right."
Bones rolls his eyes. Typical Jim. "Spare me the details, please."
Jim does, for which Bones owes him his eternal gratitude. He just sits down again, with this weird energy, like he's having trouble sitting still. Bones attempts (futilely, he knows) to work on a report, but finally he breaks down and asks Jim what he wants. Which, considering the smile on the kid's face, is exactly what Jim was hoping for.
"Oh, nothing. Just enjoying your company, Bones."
"Bullshit," Bones says, but Jim just gives him a look and doesn't say anything. But he's got work to do and Jim's being damned annoying, so Bones just sighs and says, "You're dying to tell me what happened with you and Spock. So why don't you just get on with it so I can get some work done?"
Jim's grin gets even wider, if that's possible. "Pon farr, Bones. Pon-fucking-farr."
Bones doesn't know exactly what Jim is talking about, but considering the self-satisfied smirk on Jim's face and the way he's leaning back in his chair like he's king of the universe, Bones doesn't really want to know.
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: PG-13
Series: Belief in Angels
Summary: In which Bones is an alcoholic and a marriage counselor--in that order--and for two geniuses Jim and Spock can be real idiots sometimes.
James Tiberius Kirk has approximately twelve different smiles. And the difference between Bones and Spock is that Spock has them all, like, categorized and filed and probably fucking color-coded in that Vulcan brain of his. Or something. And Bones just knows how to read them. Somehow. It's like how Jim has that infuriating way of reading the damned hobgoblin's mind just by the way he lifts one of those eyebrows (which Bones is never getting used to, he's sure).
But see, that's only half of it. And the other half is this: Jim smiles one hell of a lot.
There's that cocky half-grin he gets just before he does something just as brilliant as it is unbelievably stupid. And that soft, flirty smile, which Bones is half-convinced created Jim's playboy image itself. There's the joy when he's pulled off yet another victory when they all should have died. And then there's… well, he isn't exactly sure how to describe it, and he suspects there's only one person who gets it anyway. Because there's only one person in the universe who's ever been on the receiving end of that smile. Spock.
And that's what gets Bones worried, initially.
Thing is, Jim is fucked up. There are times Bones is absolutely sure he's clinically insane. But somehow, the kid is one of the most damned happy people Bones has ever met. He flirts like he breathes, and Bones knows from experience that even when everyone's busy writing out their metaphorical last will and testament Jim's up in his chair making jokes. So yeah, Jimmy's a bit crazy, but somehow that makes him a genius. And no one seems to mind the captain's personal kind of madness when more often than not that's what keeps them all breathing.
So you'd think it'd be pretty easy to tell when to be worried. But Jim's always been deceptively simple. Luckily for his liver (because yes, he has an alcohol problem, but in his defense, it would be a whole helluva lot worse if he didn't know Jim so well), Bones knows a trick or two for deciphering exactly when to be worried and when to sit back and let the kid do his thing (not without a little grumbling, but it's Bones. That's his MO).
So see this. This is one of those times when he should be worried.
Because you can get rid of everything else. The flirtatiousness, the cockiness, everything.
But the minute the Spock-smile (as Bones likes to think of it) goes, that's when Bones knows everything is going to shit. He still doesn't get what it is, and he doubts he ever will, but there's something about that Vulcan. No matter how screwed Bones (and the rest of the crew for that matter) thinks they are, no matter how many people die, no matter where they're trapped, unable to beam back to the Enterprise, if the captain is flirting with Spock Bones knows it's going to be okay. And it's a weird way of gauging things, sure, but it works.
Besides, the whole fucking ship is crazy anyway, so why the hell not?
Now, Bones doesn't usually like hanging around the bridge. Sure, he'll go up when Jim needs him for something, or if it's an especially slow day in sickbay and he's feeling masochistic enough to see what's going on up there, but for the most part he minds his own goddamn business, because that's what friends do. Besides, if he's going to have to worry about the whole damn crew (which he does), he might as well be as close to his bourbon stash as possible. Hell, just dealing with Jim warrants that. But 400-something other people, too? Forget it.
Long story short, this means Bones doesn't really catch on for a couple days. And that almost makes him feel guilty, what with being Jim's best friend and all, but Jesus, they've all got their jobs to do, all right? And Bones really can't be worried about what he may or may not have overheard Uhura talking to Chapel about.
It's not like Bones really wants to know about Jim's love life anyway. Because he doesn't really have a problem getting in Jim's face if he has to, but this is just one of those things. They have rules. (That, and Bones got enough of Jim's love-well, sex life at the Academy, and he's really glad that's over with. So's his liver.)
So he doesn't go up to the bridge, and when he hears it from the girls he doesn't say anything. Which may make him seem like he doesn't give a shit, but if there's one thing you just can't accuse Bones of, it's not giving a shit. This is partially why he and the hobgoblin argue so much (though to be fair, Bones has always had the older brother thing with Jim, and the older brother just isn't allowed to get along with the boyfriend). But that's beside the point.
The point is, Jim and Spock don't fight. Okay, so they had a couple of knock-down drag-outs for awhile there (and motherfucker, Bones still doesn't know how they all survived that), but these days, nothing. It's like they're trying to make up for what happened back then, even when they're angry at each other. It makes Bones want to clobber the both of them. But he doesn't, because Spock is stronger than he is and Jim. . . Well, let's just say it wouldn't fix anything.
And of course Bones sort of knows already. So he's not exactly surprised when Jim shows up in his office on a night he knows Bones is working late.
Bones breaks out the booze before Jim can even say anything.
And that makes Jim laugh, but there's a nervous tinge to it, like he isn't really sure he wants to be there. Bones doesn't take it personally. He's been through this kind of thing way too many times to get upset about it. Instead, he just pulls another bottle out of his cabinet, holding them up.
"Got any preference?" he asks.
Jim shakes his head, and Bones goes for the whiskey. He really should have been a bartender instead of a doctor, with the way he can tell exactly what kind of drink Jim needs at any given time. And he's feeling a little smug, he'll admit it (take that, ya green-blooded bastard. You ain't the only one with fuckin' telepathy).
So Jim sits down, and Bones takes a deep breath because he knows this is going to be a long night.
And okay, he shouldn't judge or anything. Really. He can't, considering the fights he had with Jocelyn there at the end. And that makes him shudder a little, but Jim doesn't seem to notice.
But anyway, Bones really wants to ask what the hell Jim and Spock are not-fighting about this time, but he knows better. Jim'll talk when he feels like it, and that's usually not until after a couple drinks, cause times like this it don't matter how long he and Bones have known each other, he still gets all nervous. Like he doesn't wanna seem… weak or something. Which is stupid, cause Bones has seen him all sorts of drunk, been through every goddamn birthday (and for that, Bones breaks out the Romulan ale, because that's all he can do to get Jim through it), dealt with every single fucking second of every crisis in the kid's life since he was eighteen. But still. It's weird, but it's a Jim thing. And Bones doesn't question shit like that, cause what's the point?
Jim takes the drink Bones hands him, and Bones can tell from the way he just stares at it for a minute that he really just wants to talk. Like the booze is just an excuse. But he can't exactly be sure of that, and it doesn't matter all that much cause Jim starts talking after the first glass anyway.
"Fuck," he starts, and it's more like a breath than a curse. "Fuck." And he's leaning back in his chair, putting his feet up on Bones's desk, which Bones would never let him do normally. But he figures cutting in and hollering at him isn't the best way to remedy the situation. So he doesn't say anything. He just waits for Jim to start.
"He isn't talking to me."
Jim just lets it hang in the air for a second, his head leaned back, his glass dangling absently in his hand.
Bones pours himself another glass, waiting.
"He just fucking stonewalls me, and I've tried to talk to him about it, but he just goes all fucking Vulcan on me. Like. . . Fuck. Just fuck."
Bones just sighs, cause really? He's no good at this shit. He's a damn good doctor, but he's not a fucking shrink. But he tries cause, well, Jim's his best friend and all, and they get each other in a weird way. And if there's one person's head Bones can fix, it's Jim's. Most of the time.
So he pulls himself together, takes a sip of his drink, and rubs his temple.
"Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not a marriage counselor." And he doesn't say it accusingly, doesn't say it like he's pissed, cause he isn't. He says it like he doesn't know what else to say, cause he doesn't.
Jim shrinks away a little when he says that, like he wants to leave. And goddammit. Bones wishes he was as good with Jim as Spock is. And he really hates to admit that. But Spock just seems to know. And that pisses Bones off a little, especially right now, when neither of them will just get a fucking clue already.
And he wants to make a joke about how the crew is probably glad Jim and Spock aren't talking so they don't have to deal with their flirting on the bridge anymore. But he isn't sure this is the best time for that.
It's almost ridiculous, really, that they're still able to fight like this even after everything they've been through. And Bones thinks it's a bit funny, because the whole damned crew sees them as this power couple, the ones that never fight, that know each other and deal with each other like it's nothing. Bones has to admit it; he's kind of in awe of the two of them sometimes. But he'll never tell Jim that.
So it's a little bit hilarious that they're having a stupid fight like every other married couple in the universe. And Bones is really tempted to lift his glass and say, "Welcome to the real world, Jimmy boy." But he doesn't, for obvious reasons.
Grandiose speeches and shit don't come to Bones easily. He's the kind of guy who'll mutter to himself and make his point quickly and without ceremony. But Jim is looking so damn pathetic sitting there, and Bones has to knock some sense into the kid. Here goes nothing.
"So I'm gonna say this once, and I'm not gonna say it again, goddammit, you hear me, Jim?" And Bones knows even as he's saying it that it's a lie, that he's gonna be saying this again sometime in the future, but he wants to get Jim's attention, because for a genius the kid can be really dense.
So Jim nods, slowly, and Bones keeps going. "Now I don't know much about bein' in love, I'll tell you that right now. But I ain't dumb, and I ain't blind. And shit, neither is anybody else. Cause I'm telling ya, fucking everyone knows how much you two idiots love each other. But fuck, Jim. Nobody, and I mean nobody, goes through as much as you do and loves each other that much without fighting. And ya know what? At least then yer talking, even if you've gotta scream at each other for awhile. Now I know you two are capable of one hellraiser of an argument. You can do it without killing each other. That's how this shit works."
Jim drains his glass, leaning forward to place it back on the table. Bones doesn't say anything else, even though he sort of wants to tell Jim that Spock really loves him, that there's probably a reason he's being like this, but he knows that's not really up to him to say. So he just waits for Jim to say something.
"You're right." There's none of the usual teasing, no skirting around the hard stuff. And Bones is strangely kind of proud of Jim for that.
"I know damn well I'm right," he says gruffly. "Now go talk to Spock about it so we can all get some sanity around here."
Jim grins (and thank fucking God for that). "Thanks a lot, Bones."
Bones is kept busy over the next couple days by something or other, so he doesn't see Jim until he shows up in Bones's office one night, with that smile on his face that can only mean one thing. . .
"Either you and Spock made up or he's going to be even more pissed at you than he already is."
Jim laughs. "Oh, we made up all right."
Bones rolls his eyes. Typical Jim. "Spare me the details, please."
Jim does, for which Bones owes him his eternal gratitude. He just sits down again, with this weird energy, like he's having trouble sitting still. Bones attempts (futilely, he knows) to work on a report, but finally he breaks down and asks Jim what he wants. Which, considering the smile on the kid's face, is exactly what Jim was hoping for.
"Oh, nothing. Just enjoying your company, Bones."
"Bullshit," Bones says, but Jim just gives him a look and doesn't say anything. But he's got work to do and Jim's being damned annoying, so Bones just sighs and says, "You're dying to tell me what happened with you and Spock. So why don't you just get on with it so I can get some work done?"
Jim's grin gets even wider, if that's possible. "Pon farr, Bones. Pon-fucking-farr."
Bones doesn't know exactly what Jim is talking about, but considering the self-satisfied smirk on Jim's face and the way he's leaning back in his chair like he's king of the universe, Bones doesn't really want to know.