Sharing is Caring
Title: Sharing is Caring
Author: Tempest
Raiting: PG
Pairing: S/Mc
Setting: TOS
Disclaimer: Star Trek and all characters belong to Paramount/NBC/Viacom and do not belong to me. I own only this story and make no profit from it. Please don't sue me.
Author's notes: My take on the telling Kirk challenge. I hope it isn’t too disappointing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They had debated back and forth for months.
The discussion never should have lasted as long as it had, but they had yet to reach an agreement.
Rather, they had yet to reach an agreement to change the status quo.
For years, they had agreed not to say anything. It began as pragmatism, coupled with an array of different underlying reasons.
Their relationship was too new, too hesitant, and potentially not serious enough to risk changing the dynamics of the ship and everyone around them. After all, if their relationship had an effect on their shipmates and then they broke up, what would they do? Would their junior officers feel uncomfortable having to work with one or the other? Would their friends take sides?
Better not to take the risk. They were two adults, capable of separating their romantic and sexual entanglements from the call of duty. After all, Yeoman Rand and Lieutenant Sulu flirted with each other discreetly, albeit not discreetly enough to escape notice completely, and it had yet to impact their work. On a ship with 430 crewmembers, there were 150 relationships at any given time, not counting the married men and women separated from their spouses.
But their relationship lasted longer than many of the other 149 relationships underway when they began seeing one another. Weeks passed, then months, and then, somehow, they had reached the point of having an anniversary.
They had an anniversary, and they could share that with nobody, because they had told nobody about their relationship.
They spent half of their first anniversary on duty, McCoy in sickbay tending to quarterly physicals, and Spock in the astrophysics laboratory, overseeing a few tests involving star models. They spent the second half of their first anniversary in the Vulcan’s quarters, sharing a private meal together that consisted of several of their favorites from their respective cultures: plomeek soup, grits and buttermilk biscuits with honey, balk’ra casserole, and peach cobbler for dessert. All made vegetarian, so that Spock could enjoy each dish.
It was difficult to call their relationship new or not serious after sharing an anniversary. So the excuses began to change.
It could still be awkward for their friends, for their shipmates and subordinates. They certainly had no need to set off the ship’s rumor mill, such that junior officers and enlisted personnel began to place bets on whether an argument was a real argument or whether it was foreplay.
Even if the doctor had made remarks to that effect before, always in private.
But they spent an increasing amount of time together, both privately and publically. They shared meals together in the mess hall, with or without Kirk, Scotty, or Uhura who joined them when they could. They could be seen walking the corridors together, to and from duty shifts.
More than once, they took shore leave together, although always with rooms at separate establishments when they found themselves on a planet with hotel accommodations. Always in separate quarters when they found themselves aboard a space station. Never with the same listed destination, although they always found a way to meet up.
Eventually, the crew was so used to seeing them out together that the occasional rumor popped up, although it always died down quickly enough.
When the vague pragmatic excuses stopped holding sway, the more specific ones took their place.
Something always came up.
Or Kirk was recovering from a broken heart or the end of a more casual relationship. Edith Keeler. Marlena Moreau’s counterpart. Janet Wallace. Shahna. Elaan. Odana. Deela. Miramanee. Rayna.
Rayna...how they had fought about her. How they had fought about Spock’s decision.
“Is that what you’ll do to me if we ever break up?” They were in the Vulcan’s quarters, thankfully; unlike McCoy’s, Spock had had his soundproofed as an accommodation to his hearing and his privacy. This allowed the doctor to unleash the full fury in his voice without a second thought.
The Science Officer stared at McCoy impassively. “I would never make you forget us.”
“Then why do it to Jim? If you view it as an act of mercy, then why not me? And if you know it’s wrong, then how could you do it to him?”
“He asked.”
Worse than their fight in the Roman arena. Worse than their fight about who would sacrifice his life to explore the enormous space amoeba. Worse than their fight after Kirk’s apparent death in Tholian space. Worse than their fight over leaving Kirk behind to destroy that comet.
Although McCoy didn’t believe for a moment that the Captain’s pain over Rayna eclipsed his pain over Miramanee. He had married her; she carried his child.
Kirk had taken the cradleboard back to the ship with him.
But they never discussed it.
After Spock had erased Kirk’s memories of Rayna, McCoy suspected that the Vulcan had played a hand after Miramanee’s death as well, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask.
Instead, they avoided one another for several days, which turned into a week.
Yet they made up, and then they began to discuss whether to tell Kirk. Rather than the strict avoidance of the topic.
Which led to their ongoing discussion, interrupted twice more.
First, by their stint 5,000 years ago on the ice planet Sarpeidon, and the fallout from Zarabeth.
Then, by Janice Lester’s theft of Jim Kirk’s body and the court martial that followed.
They might have debated back and forth about the topic until the end of the mission, had they not run into Harry Mudd for the third time. Although his presence brought back memories, everyone would feel safer with him gone.
Nobody aboard was pleased to see him, not until he announced that he had discovered a love potion.
McCoy might have chewed Chapel out a bit longer than necessary, but she was the one who had brought it aboard. She was the one who had tried to drug his lover (although she didn’t know about their relationship), and, once it was aboard, it had spread like wild fire.
Once the effects wore off, the affected crew members could barely stand to look at one another. Which left Kirk and Spock with some tension between them, and McCoy feeling intense relief that he and Spock hadn’t been exposed to it at the same time.
But that had been the catalyst.
Drugging Spock multiple times had been several steps too far. McCoy wanted everyone to know about their relationship, and the Vulcan finally ran out of excuses.
Although they argued about who to tell first. McCoy thought it necessary to tell Chapel first, since she was his Head Nurse, he considered her his friend, she had romantic feelings for Spock, and she was at fault in the first place.
The Vulcan remained steadfast that they could tell nobody before they told Jim Kirk.
McCoy capitulated.
The doctor invited both men to his quarters to make the announcement, but, perhaps, the effects of the love potion had yet to wear off completely.
Perhaps it was something else entirely.
“How long?” Kirk demanded, after they had finally found the words to tell him.
“Shortly after Harry Mudd’s space-order bride business.”
Kirk frowned at the explanation. “That long? You’ve kept this for that long?”
“Jim,” Spock said gently, “Please try to understand-”
“You should have told me,” the Captain hissed, before he stormed out.
Should they have?
McCoy suggested that they give him space, because he would come around eventually.
Still, they opted to hold back on telling anyone else until they had Kirk’s blessing. For better or for worse.
Finit?
Author: Tempest
Raiting: PG
Pairing: S/Mc
Setting: TOS
Disclaimer: Star Trek and all characters belong to Paramount/NBC/Viacom and do not belong to me. I own only this story and make no profit from it. Please don't sue me.
Author's notes: My take on the telling Kirk challenge. I hope it isn’t too disappointing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They had debated back and forth for months.
The discussion never should have lasted as long as it had, but they had yet to reach an agreement.
Rather, they had yet to reach an agreement to change the status quo.
For years, they had agreed not to say anything. It began as pragmatism, coupled with an array of different underlying reasons.
Their relationship was too new, too hesitant, and potentially not serious enough to risk changing the dynamics of the ship and everyone around them. After all, if their relationship had an effect on their shipmates and then they broke up, what would they do? Would their junior officers feel uncomfortable having to work with one or the other? Would their friends take sides?
Better not to take the risk. They were two adults, capable of separating their romantic and sexual entanglements from the call of duty. After all, Yeoman Rand and Lieutenant Sulu flirted with each other discreetly, albeit not discreetly enough to escape notice completely, and it had yet to impact their work. On a ship with 430 crewmembers, there were 150 relationships at any given time, not counting the married men and women separated from their spouses.
But their relationship lasted longer than many of the other 149 relationships underway when they began seeing one another. Weeks passed, then months, and then, somehow, they had reached the point of having an anniversary.
They had an anniversary, and they could share that with nobody, because they had told nobody about their relationship.
They spent half of their first anniversary on duty, McCoy in sickbay tending to quarterly physicals, and Spock in the astrophysics laboratory, overseeing a few tests involving star models. They spent the second half of their first anniversary in the Vulcan’s quarters, sharing a private meal together that consisted of several of their favorites from their respective cultures: plomeek soup, grits and buttermilk biscuits with honey, balk’ra casserole, and peach cobbler for dessert. All made vegetarian, so that Spock could enjoy each dish.
It was difficult to call their relationship new or not serious after sharing an anniversary. So the excuses began to change.
It could still be awkward for their friends, for their shipmates and subordinates. They certainly had no need to set off the ship’s rumor mill, such that junior officers and enlisted personnel began to place bets on whether an argument was a real argument or whether it was foreplay.
Even if the doctor had made remarks to that effect before, always in private.
But they spent an increasing amount of time together, both privately and publically. They shared meals together in the mess hall, with or without Kirk, Scotty, or Uhura who joined them when they could. They could be seen walking the corridors together, to and from duty shifts.
More than once, they took shore leave together, although always with rooms at separate establishments when they found themselves on a planet with hotel accommodations. Always in separate quarters when they found themselves aboard a space station. Never with the same listed destination, although they always found a way to meet up.
Eventually, the crew was so used to seeing them out together that the occasional rumor popped up, although it always died down quickly enough.
When the vague pragmatic excuses stopped holding sway, the more specific ones took their place.
Something always came up.
Or Kirk was recovering from a broken heart or the end of a more casual relationship. Edith Keeler. Marlena Moreau’s counterpart. Janet Wallace. Shahna. Elaan. Odana. Deela. Miramanee. Rayna.
Rayna...how they had fought about her. How they had fought about Spock’s decision.
“Is that what you’ll do to me if we ever break up?” They were in the Vulcan’s quarters, thankfully; unlike McCoy’s, Spock had had his soundproofed as an accommodation to his hearing and his privacy. This allowed the doctor to unleash the full fury in his voice without a second thought.
The Science Officer stared at McCoy impassively. “I would never make you forget us.”
“Then why do it to Jim? If you view it as an act of mercy, then why not me? And if you know it’s wrong, then how could you do it to him?”
“He asked.”
Worse than their fight in the Roman arena. Worse than their fight about who would sacrifice his life to explore the enormous space amoeba. Worse than their fight after Kirk’s apparent death in Tholian space. Worse than their fight over leaving Kirk behind to destroy that comet.
Although McCoy didn’t believe for a moment that the Captain’s pain over Rayna eclipsed his pain over Miramanee. He had married her; she carried his child.
Kirk had taken the cradleboard back to the ship with him.
But they never discussed it.
After Spock had erased Kirk’s memories of Rayna, McCoy suspected that the Vulcan had played a hand after Miramanee’s death as well, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask.
Instead, they avoided one another for several days, which turned into a week.
Yet they made up, and then they began to discuss whether to tell Kirk. Rather than the strict avoidance of the topic.
Which led to their ongoing discussion, interrupted twice more.
First, by their stint 5,000 years ago on the ice planet Sarpeidon, and the fallout from Zarabeth.
Then, by Janice Lester’s theft of Jim Kirk’s body and the court martial that followed.
They might have debated back and forth about the topic until the end of the mission, had they not run into Harry Mudd for the third time. Although his presence brought back memories, everyone would feel safer with him gone.
Nobody aboard was pleased to see him, not until he announced that he had discovered a love potion.
McCoy might have chewed Chapel out a bit longer than necessary, but she was the one who had brought it aboard. She was the one who had tried to drug his lover (although she didn’t know about their relationship), and, once it was aboard, it had spread like wild fire.
Once the effects wore off, the affected crew members could barely stand to look at one another. Which left Kirk and Spock with some tension between them, and McCoy feeling intense relief that he and Spock hadn’t been exposed to it at the same time.
But that had been the catalyst.
Drugging Spock multiple times had been several steps too far. McCoy wanted everyone to know about their relationship, and the Vulcan finally ran out of excuses.
Although they argued about who to tell first. McCoy thought it necessary to tell Chapel first, since she was his Head Nurse, he considered her his friend, she had romantic feelings for Spock, and she was at fault in the first place.
The Vulcan remained steadfast that they could tell nobody before they told Jim Kirk.
McCoy capitulated.
The doctor invited both men to his quarters to make the announcement, but, perhaps, the effects of the love potion had yet to wear off completely.
Perhaps it was something else entirely.
“How long?” Kirk demanded, after they had finally found the words to tell him.
“Shortly after Harry Mudd’s space-order bride business.”
Kirk frowned at the explanation. “That long? You’ve kept this for that long?”
“Jim,” Spock said gently, “Please try to understand-”
“You should have told me,” the Captain hissed, before he stormed out.
Should they have?
McCoy suggested that they give him space, because he would come around eventually.
Still, they opted to hold back on telling anyone else until they had Kirk’s blessing. For better or for worse.
Finit?