Reboot Fic: Four Square 1/7 (Draws X)
Title: Four Square (Draws X)
Author: Acidqueen
Series: Reboot aka ST:XI aka AOS - Draws Series
Codes: Pike/Dael/Kirk/McCoy, various OCs and other pairings in passing
Rating: NC-17; warnings: kinky, queer, mixed poly relationship with large age difference
Word count: This part: 8000; complete 60.000
Author's Note: This is the sequel to Walking a Tightrope. For all of Draws, see the Draws Masterpost.
Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom owns Star Trek, I own my brain.
Thanks for the wonderful beta and helpful comments go to orphica, cupidandpsycho and especially merisunshine36! All remaining flaws are solely mine.
This story is dedicated to the many people who kept cheerleading me through the endless writing. I hope you enjoy the ride!
Direct links to part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7
***
Text message from Lt. Cmd. Leonard H. McCoy, Enterprise to Adm. Pike, SF HQ, Earth
Hey Chris,
Sorry for not staying much in contact lately, we've been incredibly busy getting everything ready before our departure in direction of Earth, which will be in eighty-three hours. You probably won't hear a lot during the voyage either but we should make planet-fall the day before the ceremony.
Looking so much forward to seeing you on Wednesday (damn, it's been a while since I used weekdays!).
Love,
Leonard and Jim
*
Text message from Adm. Pike, SF HQ, Earth to Lt.Cmd. Leonard H. McCoy, Enterprise
My wonderful lovers,
Thanks for the heads-up. I'm looking forward to having you here too. Call me when you're through re-entry customs, I'll have a beam transfer arranged.
Bon voyage and Godspeed,
Chris
*
Text message from Adm. Pike, SF HQ, Earth to Cadet Dael, Saturn Station
Dael,
I hope you arrived safely. I know Advanced Flight II takes all energy from everyone involved, so if you don't manage to send a note, I'll understand.
Just wanted to say I'm thinking of you and miss you. The apartment is damn empty without you.
Good luck and take care. You'll pass, I've got no doubt about it.
Love,
Christopher
*
The first weekend Dael is away, everything feels quite normal. He's used to being on his own for two days, enjoying the freedom it gives him - aside from the tiny moments of goddamn moping he's starting to experience, but he's good at keeping them under control.
It's when nobody comes in on Sunday afternoon that the thought solidifies that she's away and he's got to spend two weeks all on his own, before all three of them at once will hit his apartment.
After a lonely hand job on Monday morning, he settles in his office at the admiralty and writes up a list of things he'd have to do before they arrive.
From Wednesday on, both the aspect of being alone (no fun; he really got used to having someone to come home to) as well as the aspect of freedom (great) are intensified.
It's been months since he's lived so egoistical, following his entertainment and food whims, any funny craving that comes along. He goes out to eat at the Italian restaurant that had once been his favorite; the owner had changed while he'd been in rehab but the waiter recognizes him, and the food is still very good. He hits a few new clubs with the great excuse that he needs to check out possible places to show to his men. He gets back to working past midnight and maybe having a cheeseburger at two o'clock in the morning, and if the sleep deprivation makes him a little worse for the wear on some mornings, it's still fun and his own decision.
It's not as if Dael actively imposes plans on him, but there's no way around it - living together with someone means adjusting timetables, sometimes going to bed although you might not be tired, watching vids although you'd rather do something else. Staying home on the couch although the body would prefer a round in the gym, or leaving the office earlier than sensible to spend more time with the lover. Being alone has the benefit of freedom at the cost of other creature comforts.
Like very hot sex in the morning, Pike thinks on weekend number two, when the come dries on his hand. For a while, he's just lying there, staring at the ceiling and trying to pin-point the emotion that makes him feel strange and unsatisfied, until he recognizes it - loneliness.
Hello and good-bye, old foe, no time to settle in because in a week, you'll all be gone again.
When he gets up for a shower, he's determinedly not thinking about the possible results if their foursome arrangement wouldn't stand the reality test.
Time to start cleaning the apartment.
*
Recording from Cadet Dael, Saturn Station to Adm. Pike, SF HQ, Earth
I'm sorry I didn't send a message earlier but the class is just as bad as its reputation.
Dael's recording starts out of the blue, without an address, and she'd taken it in an almost dark room so that she's mostly a shadow against some singular, low lights in the background. Her voice makes Pike miss her so much that it physically hurts, a sudden ache of longing that reminds him of chats with the doc.
We've been in battle simulation for eight days now with barely any sleep. One cadet dropped out on day five and decided to leave the 'fleet. I wonder if it is necessary that Advanced Flight II is quite that harsh, but I leave that to the wisdom of our commanding officers.
Her voice is flat, expressionless. The words were possibly meant to be ironic but they come across as accusing instead. He knows that she counts him among these officers, and they'd had similar discussions already, about other classes that seemed unnecessarily challenging to her.
Pike had defended the need to prepare the cadets for any possible situation; it's his absolute conviction that only the best should be in space, and there were only so many ways to filter out those who wouldn't meet the requirements for the demanding duty as an officer in the 'fleet. Admittedly, though, he's begun to see the academy a little more from a cadet's point of view through her, and maybe even more important, from the view of a cadet that is not in the top ten percent of the year. His past protégés may have had adjustment problems but there'd never been a question of "good enough", only the question if they'd be thrown out for insubordination and disobeying orders before they'd make the first step towards their promising career. He'd spend his time with honing their personality, not their marks.
With Dael it's been different; she'd been in danger of dropping out due to failed classes when Nogura had recommended her into his care. She'd worked her way out of that into a comfortable position in the middle field before they got together, and now… now he has no clue where she stands. She doesn't share and he doesn't ask. He's determined not to interfere with her academy career. Last thing any of them needs would be an accusation of favoritism.
I got killed this afternoon. I think everyone got shot already at least once. It's strange to die even though it's only a simulation - it feels rather real when they shut down all your systems and all is black and silent in the sensory deprivation. To think that just one second of carelessness is the end. It probably should make me feel more vulnerable but it actually has the reverse effect. It makes me brasher. I wonder if that's what the course is for on the first hand. Face your worst fears and then just move on.
There's a pause, and Pike involuntarily tenses as he sees her eyes wandering away from the cam.
Remember the bad marks I got in the space jump class in my first year? I almost failed because I always pulled the chute too early? There's a story in it. In the very first jump, I pulled too late. In fact, Commander Mendelson had to and then shouted at me for five minutes. I pulled too late because I loved the free fall and I started to wonder if I had a reason to stop. Back then I didn't find one. I guess I'm glad that today I'd have a reason to pull the chute. Not sure how this class would end otherwise.
There's another pause, and the longing ache Pike had felt in the beginning had been substituted by a different emotion - a concern so intense that his hands curl to fists. In a vaguely shaking motion, she hangs her head before looking up again, her lips curling into something pretending to be a smile.
I'm sorry, Christopher. I'm really tired and frustrated and I've never done such a recording before. I probably shouldn't send it but then I'd send nothing. I know that you often feel that I'm holding back my thoughts too much, so I thought this might be the time to start sharing. It's only five days until I'm back, and then they will be there too and we won't have the time to sit down and talk. I hate this course and the instructors. If I had had it last year, I would've dropped out. But I've changed and I'm going to see it through. So don't worry. I'll be fine. No need to send me an answer, I barely made the time to record this and they're already waiting for me for the next mission. Take care.
She waves, before the recording ends abruptly.
With a groan Pike rubs his forehead. There's such a thing as over sharing, what the hell. She really needs a lesson in "things you do not dump into your lover's lap without giving him the chance to talk about it".
Shit.
It takes an hour until the tight knot of concern in his stomach loosens a little. He's rather sure there's no acute danger for her physical or mental well-being despite her obviously working on the edge of her endurance, but the chute story does little to make him feel at ease. Sometimes he wonders if he is strong enough to handle her issues and right now he doesn't feel he manages all that well.
As asked for, he doesn't send a reply, but he's filing the subject away for an in-depth talk between them - after the visit of the Enterprise men.
*
There's that cliché about long, depressing five o'clock Sunday afternoons and despite trying his best to stay clear of that, the feeling catches up with Pike over his empty apartment. He attempts to escape by going to visit Barnett in the hospital but it's like jumping into the frying pan; Barnett's wife is there and speaks at length with him about the rapid decline that has lately set in, unburdening her soul a little. He's known Suzanne Barnett for decades, and while they've never been really close, Pike gives her the time and room to vent her pain while Barnett is sleeping like he does most of the time now. The man is running out of life energy so fast that it's almost visible, and Pike has taken to visit him once a week by now.
Suzanne's voice is like rain, pouring depression and a sense of fatalism over Pike. He can sympathize to a degree but he hasn't lost anyone really close in a long time, so the depth of her sadness and mourning is out of his reach. He holds her cold hand while he nods at the right moments, at times conveying some more or less helpful sentiments on a situation that none of them can change.
Well, maybe one man could, but Pike had never heard back from Spock, not one little life sign. It might mean the Vulcan is dead, though Pike likes to think he's in the loop well enough that he'd be informed of that, one way or the other. It might just as well mean that his message never reached Spock at all - or Spock's answer might have gone lost, for the matter. There are so many reasons why there might not have been an answer, but Pike suspects that the truth simply is that Spock doesn't want to share yet another piece of information, and he can't help being a little angry about that, pointless as it is.
"Thank you," Suzanne says at last, releasing his hand. "It really helped a lot talking to you, Chris."
"You're welcome," he says and means it. He's still damn glad to be out of the hospital soon afterwards, and when he hits the Casablanca bar he gives in to his unbelievably intense craving for a hard drink. He sips at it sitting at the same table where he'd been talking to Raol back then, Dael's brother who'd killed himself not long after that, and wonders what his morbid subconscious wants to tell him today.
An hour later, he tackles the bathroom cleaning, single-mindedly scrubbing every corner until he breaks down in exhaustion.
*
It's Tuesday morning and before office hours when his secretary knocks at his door, announcing he's got a visitor in form of Doctor Anumanchi waiting for him outside and wanting to know whether he's got time to see her.
"Sure," Pike says a little surprised and gets up to meet her. "Good morning doctor, what brings you to this neck of the woods?"
"This," Anumanchi states and pushes a PADD into his hands, showing lots of diagrams with various curves. "Do you want to die, sir?" she then asks, her short figure appearing to be twice the size from the sheer energy she's radiating this morning.
"Excuse me?" Pike frowns at the PADD.
"Answer me. Do you want to die?" Her dark eyes corner him, making him feel like a boy in front of authorities.
"Not if I can help it," Pike says defensively.
"Good. I was thinking you're actively working on committing suicide," she states sarcastically. "I don't know what's going on since ten days, but these curves -" she waves at the PADD - "tell me that your sleep schedule is shit, your meal intake is irregular and your exhaustion level is considerable. Your mood is rather sober, with little spikes of depression. Basically, all your stats are way below the ideal, and if you keep that up, you will end in the neural stabilizer or worse soon. Do you want that?"
"No," Pike says stiffly. "I'm sorry that I didn't follow my routines as I should have. I've been alone for two weeks but that will end on Thursday when Jim and Leonard will come to Earth."
"What about your cadet?"
"She's on a flight course on Saturn for two weeks, she'll be back on Thursday too."
"Good." Anumanchi shakes her head. "Next time she's away, you should book a nursing service because it's clear that you need someone to look after you. You even missed your weekly appointment at the hospital, which is really unlike you."
Pike frowns. In a way, his lifestyle is really not Anumanchi's business but on the other hand, she's his doctor and damn good at it, so it's her right to call him on his bullshit - a right he only grants her and the doc.
"There's an application we've developed that routinely informs patients about their own status and displays alerts when any of the curves are below a critical threshold," Anumanchi says. "I didn't suggest it so far because it's something for elderly patients that have a hard time to keep a schedule; I thought a Starfleet Admiral would find the necessary discipline in himself. But now I'd recommend it to you."
Pike sighs. "Send me the link and I'll take care of it." After already wearing the glorified medical version of an electronic bracelet, he'd now add electronic lifestyle supervision for demented patients to his life.
Just great. Next level is probably getting chained up in SFM.
"Good." She eyes his desk, frowning at the cup on top of it. "Coffee? You know that -"
"Doctor, I'll do almost anything you ask of me but we've been through that before. I cannot function without coffee and I don't want to live without coffee." Pike looks down at her, willing to defend this one left-over obsession to great lengths. "In fact, the machine on this floor is the best in the building thanks to me. Do you want one too?" he asks, trying to divert her mind from his health status. "They've got fresh bagels in the cafeteria this morning, we could have breakfast together."
Anumanchi keeps frowning for a moment but then gives in with a little sigh. "I'm only staying to make sure you'll start this day in shape." She strips out of her coat before taking place on the couch. "Can't have you kill yourself before Leonard has a chance to read you the riot act."
They have breakfast together, comfortably sitting side by side. Pike has never really seen her dressed in civvies before like she is today, in jeans and a blouse. She's a good-looking woman, with just a touch of Indian folklore in her outfit and in the way she wears her pitch-black hair. He knows that she's incredibly bright, not just when it comes to medicine, but he doesn't know anything about her life outside of her job. With rapt attention, he listens to her analysis of McCoy's work of the last few years, explaining some of the highly specialized papers to him.
"I asked Leonard about one or the other but he seemed unable to explain them in the small words I would have needed," Pike admits.
"We all have our pet research fields where we hang on every detail to an inch of our life," Anumanchi says. "And that makes it hard to use small words, which necessarily draw a very sketchy graph of the real problems." She looks a lot more relaxed now that she's had a chocolate chip bagel and a cup of cappuccino, leaning back on the couch with a satiated smile on her lips.
When he shows her to the door at last, having quietly skipped a morning meeting for her, he says, "It's been nice having breakfast with you. I'd like to have that again, sometime in the future - as long as that doesn't violate any doctor-patient relationship ethics," he adds quickly as she wrinkles her nose.
"No," she says after a moment, "breakfast together doesn't violate anything." He doesn't ask what would, isn't sure himself if he's having second thoughts outside of the chance to spend some time with an interesting person. Anumanchi has the great advantage of knowing so much about him that he doesn't have to tiptoe around his relationships or his health, two major discussion blockers with other people, and talking to her is easy and relaxing.
"You were right about the coffee, Admiral," Anumanchi says. "It's just too good to give up."
"Please, call me Chris," Pike says.
She's looking at him with thoughtful eyes for another moment before taking his offered hand. "Fine. I'm Naaz. And if you keep ignoring my medical advice, I'm going to step down as your primary physician. Have a good day, Chris. I guess we'll see each other at Leonard's ceremony."
He knows she's not joking with her threat.
*
Text message from Cadet Dael, Saturn Station to Adm. Pike, SF HQ, Earth
My return will be delayed for a day, so I won't be able to make it to the ceremony. ETA Friday morning.
Sorry for that.
Dael
*
Pike looks this gift horse in the mouth, so he checks to find that there's been indeed an official rescheduling due to one training mission having to be repeated. What a play of fate, but he's not complaining. While he wants all his lovers to meet and get along, the idea of having his men all to himself for some more hours is a prospect that makes his heart leap.
On his PADD, the MedApp alerts him that he's one liter behind on fluid intake and really, it makes him wish he were sub enough to eroticize that particular brand of D/s game.
*
Text message from Adm. Pike, SF HQ, Earth to Cadet Dael, Saturn Station
Dael,
Change in schedule noted. Don't worry, all will be fine. Looking forward to having you back here.
Love,
Christopher
*
"You've always been a little obsessive in your neatness, but don't you think you're overdoing it right now?" Nat says, leaning against the kitchen corner and brushing over the shining, spotless surface with one hand. She'd shown up as surprise visitor on this Wednesday afternoon, the first day of his vacation, a palm tree in her hands and a bottle of alcohol-free booze in her bag. Pike doesn't have the heart to tell her that having anything with Synthehol only makes him crave real ethanol a lot more.
"The whole apartment looks as if you want to rent it out tomorrow. It's not just clean. It's… how should I say… impersonal. As if nobody's living here." She brushes some hair out of her face; he doesn't know how she does it, but she's looking younger every time he sees her lately. Her husband has to be one hell of a caretaker or must have a fountain of youth in the backyard. Pike decides he'll ask her for details soon, but not today.
"Trust me, there are enough signs of life here," he replies while scrubbing the sink with polisher. The kitchen is the last target of his cleaning crusade on this Wednesday afternoon; all else he'd tackled over the last evenings already. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see his PADD flashing with yet another warning. He'd skipped lunch, yeah, but this app makes him feel like a tiger forced to yield to an animal trainer's whip. He fucking hates that thing and is extremely compelled to shut it down again.
Nat shakes her head, drawing a circle on the brilliantly sparkling tiles with one foot. "What do you think you'll be doing? Eating from the floor?"
That question makes him stop and smirk. "Well -"
"All right, I don't want to know." Nat laughs. "How's Dael?"
"Busy on Saturn," Pike says, focusing back onto the sink. "Will be back by Friday." Hearing Dael's name brings up a flood of emotions: the way he misses her, a little more with each new day; the concern that festers since listening to her recording; the fear that whatever is going to happen over the next days would be more than she - or any of them - could handle. It all makes him wish Nat hadn't asked.
"Hmm." Nat curls her forehead in thoughts. "How are Jim and Leonard?"
"Fine. They should be on Earth any second now, and I've arranged to get them beamed right here after they're through the control check." There's the tell-tale chirp on his PADD, and Pike's head jerks up. "In fact, that might well be them," he says as he hurries to read the message, but soon frowns.
"Anything wrong?" Nat asks concerned after a moment.
"They're running late. Technical problems with their last ship. They'll just make it in time for the ceremony tomorrow." Pike doesn't hide his profound disappointment.
"Didn't you have two evenings together?" Nat says. "So you still have one left with them."
"Yes, sure, but it's not the same. The doc will be busy with the ceremony, so we won't have time for getting reacquainted the way I had anticipated. Ah well, nothing to be done about it." Pike puts the PADD away.
"How about dinner together?" his friend offers. "Once you're done with your kitchen."
"I'd like to, but I've got to go shopping," Pike says. "We're running out of food; the fridge hasn't been that empty for years."
"Okay." Nat seems a little disappointed but not really surprised at his decline. "Guess I'll leave you to your preparations then." She leaves for the city and he tackles the last kitchen corner until the room is just as neat and clean as all of them.
Okay, Pike recedes after a critical gaze at the corridor when he walks to the bedroom for changing, maybe Nat is right and the apartment is a little antiseptic and lifeless right now. He can't really explain why it's so important for him to be so thorough in his tidying - he assumes that it's about the apartment being new, and that he wants it to shine in all its spacious glory.
The bedroom is just as clean as the rest, the bedding changed, everything stored away in the closets. The night stands are empty, the books that had been piling on them carried back to Dael's room where they belong. It's just a practical consideration; they'd need the space for lube and toys and whatever.
Like his water bottle, Pike remembers with an inward sigh. He sits down to drink half of it, then falls back onto the mattress. He's a little tired and maybe it's good that they won't be here until tomorrow. But he'd had plans - his dick had plans, damn. He's hard and needy but he won't use his own hand today; he wants it to be good when they are on Earth, so his dick can wait another day. No use in overexerting his declining libido.
He forces himself up again for a shower and then hurries off to shop.
*
His route is determined by the shopping list that hangs on the fridge in good, old-fashioned paper form, which he'd scanned and put on his PADD for his tour today.
Actually, a part of him keeps referring to it as Dael's shopping list, but his mood always turns a little sour over that aspect. While she may have a certain caretaker function in his life, he doesn't want her to be his housekeeper. But it's a fact that he often can't make it in time while the smaller shops are still open, so it leaves the task to her and her more flexible schedule.
Consequently he doesn't know half the places on the list although they're all within walking distance, but he's got suddenly free time on his hand and therefore decides to make the big tour, from a four-level grocery store for the standard food to tiny, two-room stores that sell rare food, spices and herbal teas from various Federation worlds.
In the end, he arranges to get most of the goods delivered to his apartment, but still ends with two bags in hands. He thoroughly regrets not having taken the car, but is too close to home already to warrant a cab. As the last stopover, he walks into a rather hidden shop only one corner away from his apartment block.
"Good afternoon, sir. What can I help you with?" the middle-aged man behind the counter asks him.
"I'd like to buy rhlliene." Pike isn't sure whether his pronunciation is correct, given that his Romulan is still terribly rusty, so he's not surprised when the man raises a brow at him.
"You know, that Romulan spice -"
"Sure I know," the man says. "It's just incredibly rare that someone asks for it, and I only have a small amount here that is already put away for a regular customer."
"Let me guess - the customer's name is Dael?" Pike offers.
"Yes!" The man's mouth draws into a surprised grin.
"I'm actually shopping in her stead, so I think she'd be delighted to hear that you put the spice aside just for her."
"Oh, she knows," the man says, his voice a little muffled as he bends over to pick the spice from behind the counter. "She's a good girl, a friend of my daughter."
"Is she?" Pike says neutrally.
"Yes. See, she's just coming in," the man says and points at the door. Somehow Pike isn't surprised when he recognizes the cadet he'd once met when they'd both waited for Dael coming out of a test - Caitleen Barnes. She's accompanied by another girl that Pike also vaguely associates with the academy. They're both relaxed and out of uniform, in summer dresses almost too thin for the current temperature.
The girls stop dead on track as they recognize the man in front of the counter and hastily straighten and salute him.
"At ease, cadets," Pike says lightly and adds with a wave of his hand towards his bags, "I'm just on a shopping spree."
He's amused at the slight disbelief on their faces; he knows what a culture shock it is to realize that even high-ranking officers have a fridge that needs to get filled.
"I see, you already know each other," the man behind the counter says. "Barnes is my name, sir, and without Dael my daughter probably wouldn't have made it through the entry tests." He gives the small package over to Pike. "Are you Dael's uncle or something?"
The question hits Pike out of the blue. "Or something," he replies after a moment, seeing Caitleen's eyes widening over her father's inquiry. It's obvious that the man doesn't know anything about Dael's background, and that the girls are not inclined to inform him.
"Fine," Barnes replies, but where there's been open friendliness before, there's now something else in the man's eyes, a guarded thoughtfulness with a hint of suspicion. "Give her my regards. Looking forward to seeing her soon again."
"Thanks Mister Barnes, I'll let her know." He leaves the shop, making it halfway to his apartment block when Caitleen catches up with him.
"Sir -" she says a little breathlessly. "Thank you."
Pike puts down the bags, glad to be relieved of their weight for a moment. "What does he know about Dael?"
Caitleen shakes her head. "Nothing, really. He only knows she's a friend of mine. He keeps asking where she lives since she keeps coming to our shop regularly now which would be quite a ride from her dorm. But he stopped asking about her background once I indicated some tragic family history. He doesn't know her tattoos or any relationship details. I doubt he'd be able to handle the truth. It's not as if I'm out with him."
"Ah." Pike had mostly thought about Dael and himself, not realizing that Caitleen might not even have talked to her father about her interest in women.
She's so goddamn young. The thought hits him much like the old Barnes' question, because it's so fucking obvious on the one hand, and so pointless on the other hand.
Sweet Caitleen Barnes with her female curves and currently shoulder-long hair, her cherry-red lips flanked by rosy cheeks, her open gaze and cheerful attitude embodies everything the word girl encompasses to him, and he'd as likely consider her for a relationship as he'd consider… he's not sure, a Klingon maybe.
But when he thinks of Dael, who for most people would fall into the same category, there's no such thought; she's got nothing of that youthful, carefree attitude, no curves, no cherry lips. When he sees Dael, he doesn't think of spring flowers, but of brown and yellow corn fields under an alien moon. She's on a completely different level of mature. It's been forced upon her by her past, chasing away the carefree girl that might have existed once. He feels sorry that she's been robbed of that option, but he's still glad that he's got Dael in his life the way she is now, because he could have only fallen in love with that version of her.
"Well, I won't tell him anything," Pike says at last, focusing back on the cadet.
"Thank you, sir. Have a good day." Caitleen starts walking back into the direction of the shop, and Pike picks up the bags to march home.
It takes a while until the other goods are delivered and all are stored away, and the second he sits down on the couch for a rest he falls asleep in exhaustion. He wakes up on the next morning to the first sunrays coming in through the windows and alerts blinking on his PADD like disco lights, indicating that he's severely ignored his physical well-being once again.
With the deep feeling of satisfaction, he shuts the application off - just for the next days, he tells himself, and if anything went wrong, he'd have a doctor at hand - and hurries to shower, buzzing from anticipation of seeing his men in just a few hours.
*
At last they are down on Earth, in the city and then at SFM, their movements trailed by text messages on his PADD. When Pike is walking over, knowing that he'll be seeing them in a second, his steps unconsciously slow until he's almost hesitating in front of the building's main door. Other officers pass him with a salute, and he nods, suddenly tense. How would it be, after all the things that have happened in the meantime? Had they only pretended to be fine with Dael, and now every unspoken problem would see the light of day? And knowing what the two officers had gone through over the badly failed Aranka mission, would they still be the same, with each other and with him?
Only one way to find out. Pike mentally kicks himself and walks through the door. He spots them instantly; as often they are in the center of attention, though this time it's the doc who's the hero of the day, several people in medical uniforms gathering around him, shaking hands and clapping shoulders. Both men look gorgeous in their dress uniforms, medical blue and command gold in a perfect color combination.
Pike can see Kirk's mouth forming a "Chris is here", and the doc's head snaps around. With barely the expected politeness McCoy frees himself from his colleagues. Pike holds his breath as they walk over to him in long steps. There's a fraction of a second, once they are face to face, in which nobody moves - then McCoy throws all Starfleet protocol to the wind, laces one hand around the back of Pike's head and pulls him into a kiss that's neither chaste nor brief. It takes Pike by surprise but he's too weak in his knees to stop his lover from making a fucking show in front of half the academy and the admiralty.
"Doc, please -" he mutters as McCoy gives him some room again, and is glad that Kirk only pulls him into a more audience-compatible hug.
"Well," McCoy says and clears his throat. "Guess I should be sorry but - ah damn. Talk to you later." He turns on his heel and marches away to greet the just appearing Surgeon General.
"What was that?" Pike roughly says under his breath to Kirk. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see several people staring at them, among them Caitleen, Dael's friend. Just great. Isn't she engineering track?
"He's just extremely happy to see you alive and walking, what's so wrong about that?" Kirk asks a little challengingly.
"It's been months since -"
Kirk frowns at him. "Hate to remind you, but you were clinically dead for three minutes and then in coma for days, which gave us all the fucking creeps. So give him some leeway in being a little bit more emotional than you're used from him."
People start strolling into the main auditorium and they slowly follow, keeping away from others as far as possible - which isn't far enough, given that Pike can still see Anumanchi looking at them with a curious gaze. They're really on display here. "I'm sorry for the trouble," Pike says stiffly, "but it's not as if it's been my choice."
"Maybe if you'd taken the problem more seriously -"
"There wasn't a problem at that time," Pike states. "Really, Jim, I was on the lookout but there wasn't a problem at all since you left. I was working a lot and drinking very little, Nat's wedding set aside and nothing unusual happened there. My brain did fine. I know I never should've taken Dael to ride with me but I thought… ah fuck."
"You had a bunch of feelings you didn't deal with, and you wanted to spend time with her by sharing something you love." Kirk looks at him strangely. "You never asked us to ride with you."
"Our vacation was full was it was," Pike says, getting a little exasperated. "Jim - please. I don't want to argue with you." He had thought they were good about the past. Obviously, he'd misread that - he would never have expected to get this lecture right here from Kirk, of all people.
"I know." Kirk sighs. "Sorry, Chris, but it's been a shit time with you in intensive care, and I couldn't help feeling angry a little because I kept thinking that it's been all unnecessary." He looks at him. "And maybe I was a little jealous because Bones has never quite fallen apart like that over me."
"When you're on his table, he's too busy to fall apart. I was far away and in the care of others, which left him with little to do." Pike steers them around one convenient column, and they stop in its shadow.
"I know. Just - couldn't help my thoughts." Kirk looks away. "I tried to cheer everyone up although a part of me was illogically sure you'd die. I hated the thought but it caught me and wouldn't let go and I started thinking of how little time we've really spent together and…" He jerkily wipes one hand over his mouth. "Fuck. I didn't even want to say all this. I know it's stupid -"
Shoving all ideas of appropriate behavior aside - not that it matters much anymore after McCoy's blatant display of affection - Pike pulls his lover into a hug. "No, it's okay. I'm sorry, Jim. I'm so sorry for all of this shit. I wish I could change it."
"Don't be silly," Kirk says muffled against his shoulder. "It's not your fault that you had to board his ship."
"And you got me out of it, Jim. Without you, I would have been dead."
"At least you wouldn't have to deal with your health problems now."
Pike roughly grabs Kirk's chin, forcing his lover's blue eyes to meet his. "Don't ever even think that I'd rather be dead than being here. I was damn fortunate so far, I intend to remain that. You brought me back and yeah, there have been times when I hated having such a long way to recovery. But I never once thought you should've left me onboard the Narada, not once. It was a terrible place, and the thought of dying without knowing what was happening to any of you was terrible. Or thinking of Nero making good on his threat to take me to Romulus with him as some kind of exhibit." Pike feels his stomach churn over the thought.
"Didn't happen," Kirk says quietly, hands stroking over Pike's back. "I got you. Got you back. Won't let go."
"You don't have to, Jim. Never." Pike holds him a little longer, then says, "Let's go inside or we'll be too late, and that would be a shame."
"Yes." Kirk pulls away, stretching his shoulders and straightening his back. "I'm so happy that Bones is receiving this award. He so fucking earned it. I really hope this vacation will do him some good, he's not been in a great mood lately."
It's rather obvious that Kirk's mood isn't all that good either, but that's something they'd deal with later. "It will. Let's go." They walk into the large hall and take their designated places next to each other in the front row, Pike well aware of the gazes of the audience.
"We've come together today to decorate one of our finest officers…" the Surgeon General starts, and hushed silence settles over the auditorium.
Seeing the doc's concentrated, glowing face, Pike can't help thinking that if he wasn't in head over heels already, he'd surely be now.
*
As foreseen by Pike, McCoy and Kirk are mostly occupied once they move on to the official reception afterwards, McCoy remaining the focus of attention. Pike himself exchanges some pleasantries with colleagues, although he doesn't know too many of the attending officers due to his rare contact with Starfleet Medical. After a long round through the room, he settles in a corner on one of the few chairs and takes an offered glass of champagne from a waitress.
"Admiral Pike!" someone calls for him, and he turns to face Doctor Boyce. He almost doesn't recognize the man, although he'd been his CMO on a two-year-mission a decade ago - the doctor's formerly white hair is colored brown, and the clothes are unusually fashionable. Seems everyone is on a de-aging trip lately.
"No need to get official, Philip," Pike says as he takes the doctor's hand in a firm shake. "Good to see you. Must have missed you during the ceremony."
"No, I just arrived half an hour ago," Boyce says and pulls a chair close to him. "Been on a mission to Tellar for the last two years."
"At least you're here long enough to have gotten a martini," Pike states with a smirk at the doctor's drink.
Boyce twinkles. "Well, a man has to have priorities."
"I'm sure McCoy will understand," Pike agrees amused.
"Guess so. Heard a lot about the guy, but never met him in person before." Boyce takes a sip from his drink. "As opposed to you, I've heard."
"Did you?" Pike replies, his mood instantly cooling.
"I've got my sources." Boyce shrugs. "I apologize if I stepped on your toes, Chris. I was happy about the news. You've been too much of a lone tiger; it's been good to learn you've found somebody. Even when it seems to be complicated, but everyone can do easy, right?"
"Possibly." Pike doesn't manage to lighten his frosty tone, but his eyes automatically stray towards his lovers, who are talking to others in two different corners of the room.
"Anyway, I'll have to talk to McCoy later, congratulate him. I've also spotted Naaz - didn't know she's back to work with Starfleet. I've really been out of the loop."
"Hmm?" Pike focuses back on Boyce. "Did she work for SFM before?"
"Of course. She left the service after the death of her husband," Boyce says, conveying it like a piece of common news.
"I didn't even know she'd ever been married. When did he die?"
Boyce stares at him as if he'd talked Klingon. "2258, of course. He was the acting CMO of the USS Truman. Harold Hines." Registering Pike's total surprise, the doctor shakes his head incredulously. "You really didn't know - and here I thought she's your current physician."
"She is," Pike says, barely able to find his voice. "She just never said a word about it."
"And you never had a look at her file." Boyce snorts. "Wouldn't have happened if she'd been one of your crew."
Pike nods, feeling strange. "No."
"Well, well, we're all getting older, right?" Boyce downs the martini. "I've got to make the rounds, talk to a few people. See you later. Or in case we don't meet again tonight, we should have a drink together soon. I'll be on Earth for the next few months."
"Yes, we could do that," Pike says absent-mindedly. Something just rings wrong here; of course, Anumanchi doesn't have to share her life story with him, but that she's never once spoken about the fact that her husband had been killed in the battle over Vulcan is weird.
When he spots her close to his position a little later, he waves her over. She nods at some colleagues on her way but keeps walking to him, taking a seat next to him. "Having a good party, Admiral?"
"It's Chris," Pike says.
"Yes, right, Chris." Anumanchi searches his eyes, noticing his tenseness. "Anything wrong?"
"Maybe," Pike says. "I just learned that your husband died on the Truman."
Her gaze is instantly guarded. "Yes."
"Why didn't you ever tell me?"
She frowns. "Why should I?"
"Maybe because we've got something in common here. Some shared history."
"Shared history, yes. Something in common - no," she says bluntly. "After his death, I left the service for two reasons. First, because I thought Starfleet and the Federation had badly failed when investigating the Kelvin case, taking the appearance and disappearance of such a deadly enemy much too light-heartedly. Second, because I couldn't help feeling betrayed by fate, getting angry whenever I met someone from the Enterprise. I kept asking myself why they survived, when Harold and so many others died. It's not been logical but that's how I felt for years, angry and resentful."
"McCoy had been there too."
"I know, and trust me, when I met him in a research project, I was just as resentful towards him as to anyone else. But he got under my skin." Her eyes drift down to her drink.
"What about me?" Pike asks directly.
She looks at him with veiled eyes. "When Leonard asked me whether I'd take over your case, I told him I'd consider it. Later I decided it wouldn't work for me."
"What made you change your mind?"
"Getting your dying body beamed right onto my examination table?" She smiles a little. "In that moment, you've become both my patient and one of my most interesting cases. Too late to say no."
"Glad to hear that," Pike says automatically, still chewing over her words. He takes in her sight, as if seeing her on yet another level. He doesn't know if McCoy had anything with her in the past, but he can imagine it; she would be his type. It makes his mind move along the tangent how it might have been with Anumanchi instead of Dael in their foursome. Anumanchi as a potential partner hadn't registered on his radar in the past, but today he sees her with different eyes, sees an intriguing, intelligent, professional woman of a better fitting age that would easily hold her own in a relationship with them.
The strange idea shatters to a thousand pieces when a tall man approaches them, placing his hand on her shoulder. Anumanchi turns towards the newcomer with a smile. "Admiral - my second husband, Doctor Hyatt. Jan, this is Admiral Pike, one of my patients."
The men shake hands. "I've heard about you, Admiral. Quite an interesting case," Hyatt says.
Pike feels his shoulders tensing on being called a case once more. "Glad to be of help. You don't get too many victims of Centaurian slugs on Earth, I bet," he replies coolly.
"That's not what I meant," the man says confused.
Anumanchi shakes her head. "Come on, let's go." She nods towards Pike. "Have a good vacation, sir."
They walk away through the thinning reception crowd.
"A penny for your thoughts," Kirk says as he loudly drops down on the chair next to him, taking Pike by surprise.
"Just wondering…"
Kirk follows his gaze towards Anumanchi's figure that just vanishes through the door.
"Did they…?" Pike asks despite having already decided that it's definitely not his business.
"Frankly, I don't know," Kirk says. "And if I did, I still couldn't tell you," he adds apologizing. "It's Bones' business, you should ask him if you want to know details. We've long agreed that none of us outs the other."
Pike doesn't tell Kirk that he'd heard different things, namely that McCoy had talked about Pike while in bed with another woman, something that promptly had been relayed back to him at Nat's wedding. But it wouldn't change the fact that keeping their relationship under the cover turns out to be quite impossible, and he should've known that from day one, considering that they're working in the same organization, even moving in the same circles.
"Relax, Chris," Kirk says softly and strokes his shoulder. "This is supposed to be a party, and in a few hours, we'll all be at home and together." There are a thousand possibilities swinging in the word, and Pike forces a smile on his face that turns into a real one when McCoy joins them. They get up from their chairs to greet him.
"A few of my old colleagues finagled the SG into opening the top floor for a party." McCoy says, face flushed from probably a few drinks and many well-deserved compliments. "I really need to attend for a while. Do you want to join in?"
"I'd rather not," Kirk says and wrinkles his nose. "Medical jokes are only amusing for that long…"
Pike nods. "How about this - you enjoy your party, while I take Jim out for a drink, and you give us a call when you're ready? Take as long as you need. It's your celebration, you really ought to enjoy it."
"If you say so. You're sure you'll be fine?" McCoy looks between them. "I could see you lagging behind before the ceremony, what did you talk about?"
"Just needed to get reacquainted a little," Kirk says lightly. "Out of full sight of everyone."
"Yeah, I know, that wasn't proper," McCoy admits. "Sorry for that, Chris."
"It's all fine, doc." Pike nudges his lover's hand. "Have fun and see you later." He leans forward, his lips close to the doc's ear. "Looking forward to get my hands all over you," Pike whispers and brushes his knuckles over McCoy's groin.
"Dammit man, that's unfair," McCoy growls, but it comes out as a rather pleading sound.
"Just revenge." Pike twinkles, and leaves with Kirk, helping him to fetch the couple's bags on the way out.
*
Onto part 2/7
Author: Acidqueen
Series: Reboot aka ST:XI aka AOS - Draws Series
Codes: Pike/Dael/Kirk/McCoy, various OCs and other pairings in passing
Rating: NC-17; warnings: kinky, queer, mixed poly relationship with large age difference
Word count: This part: 8000; complete 60.000
Author's Note: This is the sequel to Walking a Tightrope. For all of Draws, see the Draws Masterpost.
Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom owns Star Trek, I own my brain.
Thanks for the wonderful beta and helpful comments go to orphica, cupidandpsycho and especially merisunshine36! All remaining flaws are solely mine.
This story is dedicated to the many people who kept cheerleading me through the endless writing. I hope you enjoy the ride!
Direct links to part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7
***
Text message from Lt. Cmd. Leonard H. McCoy, Enterprise to Adm. Pike, SF HQ, Earth
Hey Chris,
Sorry for not staying much in contact lately, we've been incredibly busy getting everything ready before our departure in direction of Earth, which will be in eighty-three hours. You probably won't hear a lot during the voyage either but we should make planet-fall the day before the ceremony.
Looking so much forward to seeing you on Wednesday (damn, it's been a while since I used weekdays!).
Love,
Leonard and Jim
*
Text message from Adm. Pike, SF HQ, Earth to Lt.Cmd. Leonard H. McCoy, Enterprise
My wonderful lovers,
Thanks for the heads-up. I'm looking forward to having you here too. Call me when you're through re-entry customs, I'll have a beam transfer arranged.
Bon voyage and Godspeed,
Chris
*
Text message from Adm. Pike, SF HQ, Earth to Cadet Dael, Saturn Station
Dael,
I hope you arrived safely. I know Advanced Flight II takes all energy from everyone involved, so if you don't manage to send a note, I'll understand.
Just wanted to say I'm thinking of you and miss you. The apartment is damn empty without you.
Good luck and take care. You'll pass, I've got no doubt about it.
Love,
Christopher
*
The first weekend Dael is away, everything feels quite normal. He's used to being on his own for two days, enjoying the freedom it gives him - aside from the tiny moments of goddamn moping he's starting to experience, but he's good at keeping them under control.
It's when nobody comes in on Sunday afternoon that the thought solidifies that she's away and he's got to spend two weeks all on his own, before all three of them at once will hit his apartment.
After a lonely hand job on Monday morning, he settles in his office at the admiralty and writes up a list of things he'd have to do before they arrive.
From Wednesday on, both the aspect of being alone (no fun; he really got used to having someone to come home to) as well as the aspect of freedom (great) are intensified.
It's been months since he's lived so egoistical, following his entertainment and food whims, any funny craving that comes along. He goes out to eat at the Italian restaurant that had once been his favorite; the owner had changed while he'd been in rehab but the waiter recognizes him, and the food is still very good. He hits a few new clubs with the great excuse that he needs to check out possible places to show to his men. He gets back to working past midnight and maybe having a cheeseburger at two o'clock in the morning, and if the sleep deprivation makes him a little worse for the wear on some mornings, it's still fun and his own decision.
It's not as if Dael actively imposes plans on him, but there's no way around it - living together with someone means adjusting timetables, sometimes going to bed although you might not be tired, watching vids although you'd rather do something else. Staying home on the couch although the body would prefer a round in the gym, or leaving the office earlier than sensible to spend more time with the lover. Being alone has the benefit of freedom at the cost of other creature comforts.
Like very hot sex in the morning, Pike thinks on weekend number two, when the come dries on his hand. For a while, he's just lying there, staring at the ceiling and trying to pin-point the emotion that makes him feel strange and unsatisfied, until he recognizes it - loneliness.
Hello and good-bye, old foe, no time to settle in because in a week, you'll all be gone again.
When he gets up for a shower, he's determinedly not thinking about the possible results if their foursome arrangement wouldn't stand the reality test.
Time to start cleaning the apartment.
*
Recording from Cadet Dael, Saturn Station to Adm. Pike, SF HQ, Earth
I'm sorry I didn't send a message earlier but the class is just as bad as its reputation.
Dael's recording starts out of the blue, without an address, and she'd taken it in an almost dark room so that she's mostly a shadow against some singular, low lights in the background. Her voice makes Pike miss her so much that it physically hurts, a sudden ache of longing that reminds him of chats with the doc.
We've been in battle simulation for eight days now with barely any sleep. One cadet dropped out on day five and decided to leave the 'fleet. I wonder if it is necessary that Advanced Flight II is quite that harsh, but I leave that to the wisdom of our commanding officers.
Her voice is flat, expressionless. The words were possibly meant to be ironic but they come across as accusing instead. He knows that she counts him among these officers, and they'd had similar discussions already, about other classes that seemed unnecessarily challenging to her.
Pike had defended the need to prepare the cadets for any possible situation; it's his absolute conviction that only the best should be in space, and there were only so many ways to filter out those who wouldn't meet the requirements for the demanding duty as an officer in the 'fleet. Admittedly, though, he's begun to see the academy a little more from a cadet's point of view through her, and maybe even more important, from the view of a cadet that is not in the top ten percent of the year. His past protégés may have had adjustment problems but there'd never been a question of "good enough", only the question if they'd be thrown out for insubordination and disobeying orders before they'd make the first step towards their promising career. He'd spend his time with honing their personality, not their marks.
With Dael it's been different; she'd been in danger of dropping out due to failed classes when Nogura had recommended her into his care. She'd worked her way out of that into a comfortable position in the middle field before they got together, and now… now he has no clue where she stands. She doesn't share and he doesn't ask. He's determined not to interfere with her academy career. Last thing any of them needs would be an accusation of favoritism.
I got killed this afternoon. I think everyone got shot already at least once. It's strange to die even though it's only a simulation - it feels rather real when they shut down all your systems and all is black and silent in the sensory deprivation. To think that just one second of carelessness is the end. It probably should make me feel more vulnerable but it actually has the reverse effect. It makes me brasher. I wonder if that's what the course is for on the first hand. Face your worst fears and then just move on.
There's a pause, and Pike involuntarily tenses as he sees her eyes wandering away from the cam.
Remember the bad marks I got in the space jump class in my first year? I almost failed because I always pulled the chute too early? There's a story in it. In the very first jump, I pulled too late. In fact, Commander Mendelson had to and then shouted at me for five minutes. I pulled too late because I loved the free fall and I started to wonder if I had a reason to stop. Back then I didn't find one. I guess I'm glad that today I'd have a reason to pull the chute. Not sure how this class would end otherwise.
There's another pause, and the longing ache Pike had felt in the beginning had been substituted by a different emotion - a concern so intense that his hands curl to fists. In a vaguely shaking motion, she hangs her head before looking up again, her lips curling into something pretending to be a smile.
I'm sorry, Christopher. I'm really tired and frustrated and I've never done such a recording before. I probably shouldn't send it but then I'd send nothing. I know that you often feel that I'm holding back my thoughts too much, so I thought this might be the time to start sharing. It's only five days until I'm back, and then they will be there too and we won't have the time to sit down and talk. I hate this course and the instructors. If I had had it last year, I would've dropped out. But I've changed and I'm going to see it through. So don't worry. I'll be fine. No need to send me an answer, I barely made the time to record this and they're already waiting for me for the next mission. Take care.
She waves, before the recording ends abruptly.
With a groan Pike rubs his forehead. There's such a thing as over sharing, what the hell. She really needs a lesson in "things you do not dump into your lover's lap without giving him the chance to talk about it".
Shit.
It takes an hour until the tight knot of concern in his stomach loosens a little. He's rather sure there's no acute danger for her physical or mental well-being despite her obviously working on the edge of her endurance, but the chute story does little to make him feel at ease. Sometimes he wonders if he is strong enough to handle her issues and right now he doesn't feel he manages all that well.
As asked for, he doesn't send a reply, but he's filing the subject away for an in-depth talk between them - after the visit of the Enterprise men.
*
There's that cliché about long, depressing five o'clock Sunday afternoons and despite trying his best to stay clear of that, the feeling catches up with Pike over his empty apartment. He attempts to escape by going to visit Barnett in the hospital but it's like jumping into the frying pan; Barnett's wife is there and speaks at length with him about the rapid decline that has lately set in, unburdening her soul a little. He's known Suzanne Barnett for decades, and while they've never been really close, Pike gives her the time and room to vent her pain while Barnett is sleeping like he does most of the time now. The man is running out of life energy so fast that it's almost visible, and Pike has taken to visit him once a week by now.
Suzanne's voice is like rain, pouring depression and a sense of fatalism over Pike. He can sympathize to a degree but he hasn't lost anyone really close in a long time, so the depth of her sadness and mourning is out of his reach. He holds her cold hand while he nods at the right moments, at times conveying some more or less helpful sentiments on a situation that none of them can change.
Well, maybe one man could, but Pike had never heard back from Spock, not one little life sign. It might mean the Vulcan is dead, though Pike likes to think he's in the loop well enough that he'd be informed of that, one way or the other. It might just as well mean that his message never reached Spock at all - or Spock's answer might have gone lost, for the matter. There are so many reasons why there might not have been an answer, but Pike suspects that the truth simply is that Spock doesn't want to share yet another piece of information, and he can't help being a little angry about that, pointless as it is.
"Thank you," Suzanne says at last, releasing his hand. "It really helped a lot talking to you, Chris."
"You're welcome," he says and means it. He's still damn glad to be out of the hospital soon afterwards, and when he hits the Casablanca bar he gives in to his unbelievably intense craving for a hard drink. He sips at it sitting at the same table where he'd been talking to Raol back then, Dael's brother who'd killed himself not long after that, and wonders what his morbid subconscious wants to tell him today.
An hour later, he tackles the bathroom cleaning, single-mindedly scrubbing every corner until he breaks down in exhaustion.
*
It's Tuesday morning and before office hours when his secretary knocks at his door, announcing he's got a visitor in form of Doctor Anumanchi waiting for him outside and wanting to know whether he's got time to see her.
"Sure," Pike says a little surprised and gets up to meet her. "Good morning doctor, what brings you to this neck of the woods?"
"This," Anumanchi states and pushes a PADD into his hands, showing lots of diagrams with various curves. "Do you want to die, sir?" she then asks, her short figure appearing to be twice the size from the sheer energy she's radiating this morning.
"Excuse me?" Pike frowns at the PADD.
"Answer me. Do you want to die?" Her dark eyes corner him, making him feel like a boy in front of authorities.
"Not if I can help it," Pike says defensively.
"Good. I was thinking you're actively working on committing suicide," she states sarcastically. "I don't know what's going on since ten days, but these curves -" she waves at the PADD - "tell me that your sleep schedule is shit, your meal intake is irregular and your exhaustion level is considerable. Your mood is rather sober, with little spikes of depression. Basically, all your stats are way below the ideal, and if you keep that up, you will end in the neural stabilizer or worse soon. Do you want that?"
"No," Pike says stiffly. "I'm sorry that I didn't follow my routines as I should have. I've been alone for two weeks but that will end on Thursday when Jim and Leonard will come to Earth."
"What about your cadet?"
"She's on a flight course on Saturn for two weeks, she'll be back on Thursday too."
"Good." Anumanchi shakes her head. "Next time she's away, you should book a nursing service because it's clear that you need someone to look after you. You even missed your weekly appointment at the hospital, which is really unlike you."
Pike frowns. In a way, his lifestyle is really not Anumanchi's business but on the other hand, she's his doctor and damn good at it, so it's her right to call him on his bullshit - a right he only grants her and the doc.
"There's an application we've developed that routinely informs patients about their own status and displays alerts when any of the curves are below a critical threshold," Anumanchi says. "I didn't suggest it so far because it's something for elderly patients that have a hard time to keep a schedule; I thought a Starfleet Admiral would find the necessary discipline in himself. But now I'd recommend it to you."
Pike sighs. "Send me the link and I'll take care of it." After already wearing the glorified medical version of an electronic bracelet, he'd now add electronic lifestyle supervision for demented patients to his life.
Just great. Next level is probably getting chained up in SFM.
"Good." She eyes his desk, frowning at the cup on top of it. "Coffee? You know that -"
"Doctor, I'll do almost anything you ask of me but we've been through that before. I cannot function without coffee and I don't want to live without coffee." Pike looks down at her, willing to defend this one left-over obsession to great lengths. "In fact, the machine on this floor is the best in the building thanks to me. Do you want one too?" he asks, trying to divert her mind from his health status. "They've got fresh bagels in the cafeteria this morning, we could have breakfast together."
Anumanchi keeps frowning for a moment but then gives in with a little sigh. "I'm only staying to make sure you'll start this day in shape." She strips out of her coat before taking place on the couch. "Can't have you kill yourself before Leonard has a chance to read you the riot act."
They have breakfast together, comfortably sitting side by side. Pike has never really seen her dressed in civvies before like she is today, in jeans and a blouse. She's a good-looking woman, with just a touch of Indian folklore in her outfit and in the way she wears her pitch-black hair. He knows that she's incredibly bright, not just when it comes to medicine, but he doesn't know anything about her life outside of her job. With rapt attention, he listens to her analysis of McCoy's work of the last few years, explaining some of the highly specialized papers to him.
"I asked Leonard about one or the other but he seemed unable to explain them in the small words I would have needed," Pike admits.
"We all have our pet research fields where we hang on every detail to an inch of our life," Anumanchi says. "And that makes it hard to use small words, which necessarily draw a very sketchy graph of the real problems." She looks a lot more relaxed now that she's had a chocolate chip bagel and a cup of cappuccino, leaning back on the couch with a satiated smile on her lips.
When he shows her to the door at last, having quietly skipped a morning meeting for her, he says, "It's been nice having breakfast with you. I'd like to have that again, sometime in the future - as long as that doesn't violate any doctor-patient relationship ethics," he adds quickly as she wrinkles her nose.
"No," she says after a moment, "breakfast together doesn't violate anything." He doesn't ask what would, isn't sure himself if he's having second thoughts outside of the chance to spend some time with an interesting person. Anumanchi has the great advantage of knowing so much about him that he doesn't have to tiptoe around his relationships or his health, two major discussion blockers with other people, and talking to her is easy and relaxing.
"You were right about the coffee, Admiral," Anumanchi says. "It's just too good to give up."
"Please, call me Chris," Pike says.
She's looking at him with thoughtful eyes for another moment before taking his offered hand. "Fine. I'm Naaz. And if you keep ignoring my medical advice, I'm going to step down as your primary physician. Have a good day, Chris. I guess we'll see each other at Leonard's ceremony."
He knows she's not joking with her threat.
*
Text message from Cadet Dael, Saturn Station to Adm. Pike, SF HQ, Earth
My return will be delayed for a day, so I won't be able to make it to the ceremony. ETA Friday morning.
Sorry for that.
Dael
*
Pike looks this gift horse in the mouth, so he checks to find that there's been indeed an official rescheduling due to one training mission having to be repeated. What a play of fate, but he's not complaining. While he wants all his lovers to meet and get along, the idea of having his men all to himself for some more hours is a prospect that makes his heart leap.
On his PADD, the MedApp alerts him that he's one liter behind on fluid intake and really, it makes him wish he were sub enough to eroticize that particular brand of D/s game.
*
Text message from Adm. Pike, SF HQ, Earth to Cadet Dael, Saturn Station
Dael,
Change in schedule noted. Don't worry, all will be fine. Looking forward to having you back here.
Love,
Christopher
*
"You've always been a little obsessive in your neatness, but don't you think you're overdoing it right now?" Nat says, leaning against the kitchen corner and brushing over the shining, spotless surface with one hand. She'd shown up as surprise visitor on this Wednesday afternoon, the first day of his vacation, a palm tree in her hands and a bottle of alcohol-free booze in her bag. Pike doesn't have the heart to tell her that having anything with Synthehol only makes him crave real ethanol a lot more.
"The whole apartment looks as if you want to rent it out tomorrow. It's not just clean. It's… how should I say… impersonal. As if nobody's living here." She brushes some hair out of her face; he doesn't know how she does it, but she's looking younger every time he sees her lately. Her husband has to be one hell of a caretaker or must have a fountain of youth in the backyard. Pike decides he'll ask her for details soon, but not today.
"Trust me, there are enough signs of life here," he replies while scrubbing the sink with polisher. The kitchen is the last target of his cleaning crusade on this Wednesday afternoon; all else he'd tackled over the last evenings already. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see his PADD flashing with yet another warning. He'd skipped lunch, yeah, but this app makes him feel like a tiger forced to yield to an animal trainer's whip. He fucking hates that thing and is extremely compelled to shut it down again.
Nat shakes her head, drawing a circle on the brilliantly sparkling tiles with one foot. "What do you think you'll be doing? Eating from the floor?"
That question makes him stop and smirk. "Well -"
"All right, I don't want to know." Nat laughs. "How's Dael?"
"Busy on Saturn," Pike says, focusing back onto the sink. "Will be back by Friday." Hearing Dael's name brings up a flood of emotions: the way he misses her, a little more with each new day; the concern that festers since listening to her recording; the fear that whatever is going to happen over the next days would be more than she - or any of them - could handle. It all makes him wish Nat hadn't asked.
"Hmm." Nat curls her forehead in thoughts. "How are Jim and Leonard?"
"Fine. They should be on Earth any second now, and I've arranged to get them beamed right here after they're through the control check." There's the tell-tale chirp on his PADD, and Pike's head jerks up. "In fact, that might well be them," he says as he hurries to read the message, but soon frowns.
"Anything wrong?" Nat asks concerned after a moment.
"They're running late. Technical problems with their last ship. They'll just make it in time for the ceremony tomorrow." Pike doesn't hide his profound disappointment.
"Didn't you have two evenings together?" Nat says. "So you still have one left with them."
"Yes, sure, but it's not the same. The doc will be busy with the ceremony, so we won't have time for getting reacquainted the way I had anticipated. Ah well, nothing to be done about it." Pike puts the PADD away.
"How about dinner together?" his friend offers. "Once you're done with your kitchen."
"I'd like to, but I've got to go shopping," Pike says. "We're running out of food; the fridge hasn't been that empty for years."
"Okay." Nat seems a little disappointed but not really surprised at his decline. "Guess I'll leave you to your preparations then." She leaves for the city and he tackles the last kitchen corner until the room is just as neat and clean as all of them.
Okay, Pike recedes after a critical gaze at the corridor when he walks to the bedroom for changing, maybe Nat is right and the apartment is a little antiseptic and lifeless right now. He can't really explain why it's so important for him to be so thorough in his tidying - he assumes that it's about the apartment being new, and that he wants it to shine in all its spacious glory.
The bedroom is just as clean as the rest, the bedding changed, everything stored away in the closets. The night stands are empty, the books that had been piling on them carried back to Dael's room where they belong. It's just a practical consideration; they'd need the space for lube and toys and whatever.
Like his water bottle, Pike remembers with an inward sigh. He sits down to drink half of it, then falls back onto the mattress. He's a little tired and maybe it's good that they won't be here until tomorrow. But he'd had plans - his dick had plans, damn. He's hard and needy but he won't use his own hand today; he wants it to be good when they are on Earth, so his dick can wait another day. No use in overexerting his declining libido.
He forces himself up again for a shower and then hurries off to shop.
*
His route is determined by the shopping list that hangs on the fridge in good, old-fashioned paper form, which he'd scanned and put on his PADD for his tour today.
Actually, a part of him keeps referring to it as Dael's shopping list, but his mood always turns a little sour over that aspect. While she may have a certain caretaker function in his life, he doesn't want her to be his housekeeper. But it's a fact that he often can't make it in time while the smaller shops are still open, so it leaves the task to her and her more flexible schedule.
Consequently he doesn't know half the places on the list although they're all within walking distance, but he's got suddenly free time on his hand and therefore decides to make the big tour, from a four-level grocery store for the standard food to tiny, two-room stores that sell rare food, spices and herbal teas from various Federation worlds.
In the end, he arranges to get most of the goods delivered to his apartment, but still ends with two bags in hands. He thoroughly regrets not having taken the car, but is too close to home already to warrant a cab. As the last stopover, he walks into a rather hidden shop only one corner away from his apartment block.
"Good afternoon, sir. What can I help you with?" the middle-aged man behind the counter asks him.
"I'd like to buy rhlliene." Pike isn't sure whether his pronunciation is correct, given that his Romulan is still terribly rusty, so he's not surprised when the man raises a brow at him.
"You know, that Romulan spice -"
"Sure I know," the man says. "It's just incredibly rare that someone asks for it, and I only have a small amount here that is already put away for a regular customer."
"Let me guess - the customer's name is Dael?" Pike offers.
"Yes!" The man's mouth draws into a surprised grin.
"I'm actually shopping in her stead, so I think she'd be delighted to hear that you put the spice aside just for her."
"Oh, she knows," the man says, his voice a little muffled as he bends over to pick the spice from behind the counter. "She's a good girl, a friend of my daughter."
"Is she?" Pike says neutrally.
"Yes. See, she's just coming in," the man says and points at the door. Somehow Pike isn't surprised when he recognizes the cadet he'd once met when they'd both waited for Dael coming out of a test - Caitleen Barnes. She's accompanied by another girl that Pike also vaguely associates with the academy. They're both relaxed and out of uniform, in summer dresses almost too thin for the current temperature.
The girls stop dead on track as they recognize the man in front of the counter and hastily straighten and salute him.
"At ease, cadets," Pike says lightly and adds with a wave of his hand towards his bags, "I'm just on a shopping spree."
He's amused at the slight disbelief on their faces; he knows what a culture shock it is to realize that even high-ranking officers have a fridge that needs to get filled.
"I see, you already know each other," the man behind the counter says. "Barnes is my name, sir, and without Dael my daughter probably wouldn't have made it through the entry tests." He gives the small package over to Pike. "Are you Dael's uncle or something?"
The question hits Pike out of the blue. "Or something," he replies after a moment, seeing Caitleen's eyes widening over her father's inquiry. It's obvious that the man doesn't know anything about Dael's background, and that the girls are not inclined to inform him.
"Fine," Barnes replies, but where there's been open friendliness before, there's now something else in the man's eyes, a guarded thoughtfulness with a hint of suspicion. "Give her my regards. Looking forward to seeing her soon again."
"Thanks Mister Barnes, I'll let her know." He leaves the shop, making it halfway to his apartment block when Caitleen catches up with him.
"Sir -" she says a little breathlessly. "Thank you."
Pike puts down the bags, glad to be relieved of their weight for a moment. "What does he know about Dael?"
Caitleen shakes her head. "Nothing, really. He only knows she's a friend of mine. He keeps asking where she lives since she keeps coming to our shop regularly now which would be quite a ride from her dorm. But he stopped asking about her background once I indicated some tragic family history. He doesn't know her tattoos or any relationship details. I doubt he'd be able to handle the truth. It's not as if I'm out with him."
"Ah." Pike had mostly thought about Dael and himself, not realizing that Caitleen might not even have talked to her father about her interest in women.
She's so goddamn young. The thought hits him much like the old Barnes' question, because it's so fucking obvious on the one hand, and so pointless on the other hand.
Sweet Caitleen Barnes with her female curves and currently shoulder-long hair, her cherry-red lips flanked by rosy cheeks, her open gaze and cheerful attitude embodies everything the word girl encompasses to him, and he'd as likely consider her for a relationship as he'd consider… he's not sure, a Klingon maybe.
But when he thinks of Dael, who for most people would fall into the same category, there's no such thought; she's got nothing of that youthful, carefree attitude, no curves, no cherry lips. When he sees Dael, he doesn't think of spring flowers, but of brown and yellow corn fields under an alien moon. She's on a completely different level of mature. It's been forced upon her by her past, chasing away the carefree girl that might have existed once. He feels sorry that she's been robbed of that option, but he's still glad that he's got Dael in his life the way she is now, because he could have only fallen in love with that version of her.
"Well, I won't tell him anything," Pike says at last, focusing back on the cadet.
"Thank you, sir. Have a good day." Caitleen starts walking back into the direction of the shop, and Pike picks up the bags to march home.
It takes a while until the other goods are delivered and all are stored away, and the second he sits down on the couch for a rest he falls asleep in exhaustion. He wakes up on the next morning to the first sunrays coming in through the windows and alerts blinking on his PADD like disco lights, indicating that he's severely ignored his physical well-being once again.
With the deep feeling of satisfaction, he shuts the application off - just for the next days, he tells himself, and if anything went wrong, he'd have a doctor at hand - and hurries to shower, buzzing from anticipation of seeing his men in just a few hours.
*
At last they are down on Earth, in the city and then at SFM, their movements trailed by text messages on his PADD. When Pike is walking over, knowing that he'll be seeing them in a second, his steps unconsciously slow until he's almost hesitating in front of the building's main door. Other officers pass him with a salute, and he nods, suddenly tense. How would it be, after all the things that have happened in the meantime? Had they only pretended to be fine with Dael, and now every unspoken problem would see the light of day? And knowing what the two officers had gone through over the badly failed Aranka mission, would they still be the same, with each other and with him?
Only one way to find out. Pike mentally kicks himself and walks through the door. He spots them instantly; as often they are in the center of attention, though this time it's the doc who's the hero of the day, several people in medical uniforms gathering around him, shaking hands and clapping shoulders. Both men look gorgeous in their dress uniforms, medical blue and command gold in a perfect color combination.
Pike can see Kirk's mouth forming a "Chris is here", and the doc's head snaps around. With barely the expected politeness McCoy frees himself from his colleagues. Pike holds his breath as they walk over to him in long steps. There's a fraction of a second, once they are face to face, in which nobody moves - then McCoy throws all Starfleet protocol to the wind, laces one hand around the back of Pike's head and pulls him into a kiss that's neither chaste nor brief. It takes Pike by surprise but he's too weak in his knees to stop his lover from making a fucking show in front of half the academy and the admiralty.
"Doc, please -" he mutters as McCoy gives him some room again, and is glad that Kirk only pulls him into a more audience-compatible hug.
"Well," McCoy says and clears his throat. "Guess I should be sorry but - ah damn. Talk to you later." He turns on his heel and marches away to greet the just appearing Surgeon General.
"What was that?" Pike roughly says under his breath to Kirk. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see several people staring at them, among them Caitleen, Dael's friend. Just great. Isn't she engineering track?
"He's just extremely happy to see you alive and walking, what's so wrong about that?" Kirk asks a little challengingly.
"It's been months since -"
Kirk frowns at him. "Hate to remind you, but you were clinically dead for three minutes and then in coma for days, which gave us all the fucking creeps. So give him some leeway in being a little bit more emotional than you're used from him."
People start strolling into the main auditorium and they slowly follow, keeping away from others as far as possible - which isn't far enough, given that Pike can still see Anumanchi looking at them with a curious gaze. They're really on display here. "I'm sorry for the trouble," Pike says stiffly, "but it's not as if it's been my choice."
"Maybe if you'd taken the problem more seriously -"
"There wasn't a problem at that time," Pike states. "Really, Jim, I was on the lookout but there wasn't a problem at all since you left. I was working a lot and drinking very little, Nat's wedding set aside and nothing unusual happened there. My brain did fine. I know I never should've taken Dael to ride with me but I thought… ah fuck."
"You had a bunch of feelings you didn't deal with, and you wanted to spend time with her by sharing something you love." Kirk looks at him strangely. "You never asked us to ride with you."
"Our vacation was full was it was," Pike says, getting a little exasperated. "Jim - please. I don't want to argue with you." He had thought they were good about the past. Obviously, he'd misread that - he would never have expected to get this lecture right here from Kirk, of all people.
"I know." Kirk sighs. "Sorry, Chris, but it's been a shit time with you in intensive care, and I couldn't help feeling angry a little because I kept thinking that it's been all unnecessary." He looks at him. "And maybe I was a little jealous because Bones has never quite fallen apart like that over me."
"When you're on his table, he's too busy to fall apart. I was far away and in the care of others, which left him with little to do." Pike steers them around one convenient column, and they stop in its shadow.
"I know. Just - couldn't help my thoughts." Kirk looks away. "I tried to cheer everyone up although a part of me was illogically sure you'd die. I hated the thought but it caught me and wouldn't let go and I started thinking of how little time we've really spent together and…" He jerkily wipes one hand over his mouth. "Fuck. I didn't even want to say all this. I know it's stupid -"
Shoving all ideas of appropriate behavior aside - not that it matters much anymore after McCoy's blatant display of affection - Pike pulls his lover into a hug. "No, it's okay. I'm sorry, Jim. I'm so sorry for all of this shit. I wish I could change it."
"Don't be silly," Kirk says muffled against his shoulder. "It's not your fault that you had to board his ship."
"And you got me out of it, Jim. Without you, I would have been dead."
"At least you wouldn't have to deal with your health problems now."
Pike roughly grabs Kirk's chin, forcing his lover's blue eyes to meet his. "Don't ever even think that I'd rather be dead than being here. I was damn fortunate so far, I intend to remain that. You brought me back and yeah, there have been times when I hated having such a long way to recovery. But I never once thought you should've left me onboard the Narada, not once. It was a terrible place, and the thought of dying without knowing what was happening to any of you was terrible. Or thinking of Nero making good on his threat to take me to Romulus with him as some kind of exhibit." Pike feels his stomach churn over the thought.
"Didn't happen," Kirk says quietly, hands stroking over Pike's back. "I got you. Got you back. Won't let go."
"You don't have to, Jim. Never." Pike holds him a little longer, then says, "Let's go inside or we'll be too late, and that would be a shame."
"Yes." Kirk pulls away, stretching his shoulders and straightening his back. "I'm so happy that Bones is receiving this award. He so fucking earned it. I really hope this vacation will do him some good, he's not been in a great mood lately."
It's rather obvious that Kirk's mood isn't all that good either, but that's something they'd deal with later. "It will. Let's go." They walk into the large hall and take their designated places next to each other in the front row, Pike well aware of the gazes of the audience.
"We've come together today to decorate one of our finest officers…" the Surgeon General starts, and hushed silence settles over the auditorium.
Seeing the doc's concentrated, glowing face, Pike can't help thinking that if he wasn't in head over heels already, he'd surely be now.
*
As foreseen by Pike, McCoy and Kirk are mostly occupied once they move on to the official reception afterwards, McCoy remaining the focus of attention. Pike himself exchanges some pleasantries with colleagues, although he doesn't know too many of the attending officers due to his rare contact with Starfleet Medical. After a long round through the room, he settles in a corner on one of the few chairs and takes an offered glass of champagne from a waitress.
"Admiral Pike!" someone calls for him, and he turns to face Doctor Boyce. He almost doesn't recognize the man, although he'd been his CMO on a two-year-mission a decade ago - the doctor's formerly white hair is colored brown, and the clothes are unusually fashionable. Seems everyone is on a de-aging trip lately.
"No need to get official, Philip," Pike says as he takes the doctor's hand in a firm shake. "Good to see you. Must have missed you during the ceremony."
"No, I just arrived half an hour ago," Boyce says and pulls a chair close to him. "Been on a mission to Tellar for the last two years."
"At least you're here long enough to have gotten a martini," Pike states with a smirk at the doctor's drink.
Boyce twinkles. "Well, a man has to have priorities."
"I'm sure McCoy will understand," Pike agrees amused.
"Guess so. Heard a lot about the guy, but never met him in person before." Boyce takes a sip from his drink. "As opposed to you, I've heard."
"Did you?" Pike replies, his mood instantly cooling.
"I've got my sources." Boyce shrugs. "I apologize if I stepped on your toes, Chris. I was happy about the news. You've been too much of a lone tiger; it's been good to learn you've found somebody. Even when it seems to be complicated, but everyone can do easy, right?"
"Possibly." Pike doesn't manage to lighten his frosty tone, but his eyes automatically stray towards his lovers, who are talking to others in two different corners of the room.
"Anyway, I'll have to talk to McCoy later, congratulate him. I've also spotted Naaz - didn't know she's back to work with Starfleet. I've really been out of the loop."
"Hmm?" Pike focuses back on Boyce. "Did she work for SFM before?"
"Of course. She left the service after the death of her husband," Boyce says, conveying it like a piece of common news.
"I didn't even know she'd ever been married. When did he die?"
Boyce stares at him as if he'd talked Klingon. "2258, of course. He was the acting CMO of the USS Truman. Harold Hines." Registering Pike's total surprise, the doctor shakes his head incredulously. "You really didn't know - and here I thought she's your current physician."
"She is," Pike says, barely able to find his voice. "She just never said a word about it."
"And you never had a look at her file." Boyce snorts. "Wouldn't have happened if she'd been one of your crew."
Pike nods, feeling strange. "No."
"Well, well, we're all getting older, right?" Boyce downs the martini. "I've got to make the rounds, talk to a few people. See you later. Or in case we don't meet again tonight, we should have a drink together soon. I'll be on Earth for the next few months."
"Yes, we could do that," Pike says absent-mindedly. Something just rings wrong here; of course, Anumanchi doesn't have to share her life story with him, but that she's never once spoken about the fact that her husband had been killed in the battle over Vulcan is weird.
When he spots her close to his position a little later, he waves her over. She nods at some colleagues on her way but keeps walking to him, taking a seat next to him. "Having a good party, Admiral?"
"It's Chris," Pike says.
"Yes, right, Chris." Anumanchi searches his eyes, noticing his tenseness. "Anything wrong?"
"Maybe," Pike says. "I just learned that your husband died on the Truman."
Her gaze is instantly guarded. "Yes."
"Why didn't you ever tell me?"
She frowns. "Why should I?"
"Maybe because we've got something in common here. Some shared history."
"Shared history, yes. Something in common - no," she says bluntly. "After his death, I left the service for two reasons. First, because I thought Starfleet and the Federation had badly failed when investigating the Kelvin case, taking the appearance and disappearance of such a deadly enemy much too light-heartedly. Second, because I couldn't help feeling betrayed by fate, getting angry whenever I met someone from the Enterprise. I kept asking myself why they survived, when Harold and so many others died. It's not been logical but that's how I felt for years, angry and resentful."
"McCoy had been there too."
"I know, and trust me, when I met him in a research project, I was just as resentful towards him as to anyone else. But he got under my skin." Her eyes drift down to her drink.
"What about me?" Pike asks directly.
She looks at him with veiled eyes. "When Leonard asked me whether I'd take over your case, I told him I'd consider it. Later I decided it wouldn't work for me."
"What made you change your mind?"
"Getting your dying body beamed right onto my examination table?" She smiles a little. "In that moment, you've become both my patient and one of my most interesting cases. Too late to say no."
"Glad to hear that," Pike says automatically, still chewing over her words. He takes in her sight, as if seeing her on yet another level. He doesn't know if McCoy had anything with her in the past, but he can imagine it; she would be his type. It makes his mind move along the tangent how it might have been with Anumanchi instead of Dael in their foursome. Anumanchi as a potential partner hadn't registered on his radar in the past, but today he sees her with different eyes, sees an intriguing, intelligent, professional woman of a better fitting age that would easily hold her own in a relationship with them.
The strange idea shatters to a thousand pieces when a tall man approaches them, placing his hand on her shoulder. Anumanchi turns towards the newcomer with a smile. "Admiral - my second husband, Doctor Hyatt. Jan, this is Admiral Pike, one of my patients."
The men shake hands. "I've heard about you, Admiral. Quite an interesting case," Hyatt says.
Pike feels his shoulders tensing on being called a case once more. "Glad to be of help. You don't get too many victims of Centaurian slugs on Earth, I bet," he replies coolly.
"That's not what I meant," the man says confused.
Anumanchi shakes her head. "Come on, let's go." She nods towards Pike. "Have a good vacation, sir."
They walk away through the thinning reception crowd.
"A penny for your thoughts," Kirk says as he loudly drops down on the chair next to him, taking Pike by surprise.
"Just wondering…"
Kirk follows his gaze towards Anumanchi's figure that just vanishes through the door.
"Did they…?" Pike asks despite having already decided that it's definitely not his business.
"Frankly, I don't know," Kirk says. "And if I did, I still couldn't tell you," he adds apologizing. "It's Bones' business, you should ask him if you want to know details. We've long agreed that none of us outs the other."
Pike doesn't tell Kirk that he'd heard different things, namely that McCoy had talked about Pike while in bed with another woman, something that promptly had been relayed back to him at Nat's wedding. But it wouldn't change the fact that keeping their relationship under the cover turns out to be quite impossible, and he should've known that from day one, considering that they're working in the same organization, even moving in the same circles.
"Relax, Chris," Kirk says softly and strokes his shoulder. "This is supposed to be a party, and in a few hours, we'll all be at home and together." There are a thousand possibilities swinging in the word, and Pike forces a smile on his face that turns into a real one when McCoy joins them. They get up from their chairs to greet him.
"A few of my old colleagues finagled the SG into opening the top floor for a party." McCoy says, face flushed from probably a few drinks and many well-deserved compliments. "I really need to attend for a while. Do you want to join in?"
"I'd rather not," Kirk says and wrinkles his nose. "Medical jokes are only amusing for that long…"
Pike nods. "How about this - you enjoy your party, while I take Jim out for a drink, and you give us a call when you're ready? Take as long as you need. It's your celebration, you really ought to enjoy it."
"If you say so. You're sure you'll be fine?" McCoy looks between them. "I could see you lagging behind before the ceremony, what did you talk about?"
"Just needed to get reacquainted a little," Kirk says lightly. "Out of full sight of everyone."
"Yeah, I know, that wasn't proper," McCoy admits. "Sorry for that, Chris."
"It's all fine, doc." Pike nudges his lover's hand. "Have fun and see you later." He leans forward, his lips close to the doc's ear. "Looking forward to get my hands all over you," Pike whispers and brushes his knuckles over McCoy's groin.
"Dammit man, that's unfair," McCoy growls, but it comes out as a rather pleading sound.
"Just revenge." Pike twinkles, and leaves with Kirk, helping him to fetch the couple's bags on the way out.
*
Onto part 2/7