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Title: If You Can’t Be With The One You Love, Honey…
Rating: NC-17 overall
Word Count:  3913

Paring: K/S  (Background Uhura/Bones)
Warnings:  this chapter has some mentions of violence.

Spock has a… not all together logical reaction to Captain Kirk’s constant disregard for his own safety on away missions.
Beta:  The amazing
[info]jademac2442 .  I mean it guys. You should see what this looks like before she gets her hands on it! ♥♥♥
A/N:  Thanks to
[info]jademac2442  and [info]jlm121  for cheerleading and letting me bounce ideas off of their heads. This process was occasionally painful.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3

“So, you gonna tell me what the hell that was about earlier? Hold out your arm. With one thing and another I forgot to remove the chip.” Bones kept his voice low.

Jim raised his arm, a ghost of a smile on his face. He and Bones didn’t really do this mushy shit, and somehow confessing to his friend that he had hurt Jim’s feelings wasn’t going to fly. Bones would probably sprain something vital mocking him for the rest of his natural life. He shrugged, watching as Bones cut his arm open with a small laser, removing the heart monitor chip with a small instrument. Jim had completely forgotten about it. No wonder Bones had known when Spock was kicking his ass. His heart had probably been beating itself out of his chest.

An image of Spock poised above him, tensed and staring down intensely into Jim’s face as he concentrated, popped into Jim’s head and he felt his cheeks redden slightly.

What the fuck was up with him? The last week was like he couldn’t stop thinking about Spock. It was damn weird. He didn’t usually even go for guys, and Spock was just about the dictionary definition for the most unapproachable booty call, ever.  He gave himself a mental shake.

“You said that you thought I was looking for some kind of adrenaline rush. It was fucking insulting, Bones.  I just thought that you two knew me better is all.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “For Christ’s sake, Jim. It’s my job to worry about you. And when you spend most of your damn time here with me patching you up, I think that gives me a cause.”

Jim watched as the small regenerator healed the split skin, reknitting it before his eyes, leaving a small pink line. A few seconds later that too disappeared.  He kept himself from speaking, but it was difficult. He didn’t want to fight with Bones.  When he put it like that it was hard to take offence. But Godamnit, hadn’t he earned the right not to be coddled so much? It was damn annoying, regardless of the reasons behind them.

“Commander Spock to Captain Kirk.”

“Good timing. Think about what I said, Jim. You’ve been impulsive since we met. Hell, your whole career has been built on you making a damn art out of being impulsive. Just… try to be careful, huh? I’m gettin’ too old for this shit.”

Jim blinked as his communicator chirped again.

“Kirk here.”

“Your presence is required on the bridge, captain.”

“Acknowledged. I’m in Sickbay. Be there in a jiff. Kirk out.”

Bones just raised his eyebrow at him and took a step back at Jim’s slap on his arm and the familiar cheeky grin. Jim felt the engines drop out of warp as stood, cracking his knuckles and stretching.  “Yeah. I’ll try.”

Bones snorted. “Right, kid. Now skedaddle.”

Jim did so, shaking his head.  It was a damn medical miracle that Bones could look like the same Bones he’d known for almost four years, but moonlight as an interfering old woman when it suited his purpose. Jim had to laugh at himself as he jogged a little to the turbollift. Even his inner voice sounded like Bones.

He was so intent on his thoughts that he didn’t see the shape looming behind up him until it was too late. Jim caught just the slightest glimpse of red out of the corner of his eye, felt just the tinniest shift in the air currents before a blinding, obliterating pain exploded behind his eyelids.


“Jim. Jimmy.”


“C’mon, kid. Open your eyes.”

Ow ow motherfucking ow. Why did his head hurt? Wait, what the fuck? Someone had---! Jim’s eyes popped open, only to slam shut as the brightness of the lights. He flinched, grimacing. He felt a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down to the floor, one hand cradling his head.

“Slow down a sec, Jim. You took a pretty rough hit to the head. Give yourself a second, then I want you to sit up. Slowly, okay? I don’t much want you to puke all over me. I just put on this uniform. Spock, dammit, I said I have it under control.”

“I would never presume to interfere in a medical issue.”

Jim opened his eyes again, slowly this time, confused by the fact that Spock’s voice seemed much closer than it should have been. He could see Bones on his left and Spock on his right.  A nurse that Jim didn’t immediately recognize knelt at his feet, frowning down at a scanner.

“Great. Then why don’t you go and figure out who the fuck did this?” Bones sounded absolutely furious.

“I am attempting to do so. I believe a shallow meld with the captain will allow me to see exactly who perpetrated this act upon his person.”

Jim, who had been in the process of starting to sit up, flinched away from Spock’s hand. His muddy thoughts were filled with guilt, and stupidly the only thing he could think of was that Spock would know that Jim had been hard, had been so incredibly turned on because of him, that he couldn’t stop his thoughts from going back to the stoic Vulcan. He didn’t think he could stand Spock’s disgust on top of everything else.

Jim watched as Spock checked his movement, something flashing in his all too-human eyes before he gracefully stood, taking a step back from where Jim still lay with Bones crouched over him on his knees, hands clasped tightly behind his back. Jim was distracted by the tricorder in his face, and by the time he was able to pull his scattered thoughts together, Spock had disappeared.


“Just shut up a minute. God, you’re bleeding all over the damn place.”

Jim put his hand on the back of his head, wincing at the tender feel. He could feel blood against his neck and winced again. “What did they hit me with? The warp core?”

Bones’ mouth stretched into a line, his lips clamped so tightly together that they were white. Jim watched, almost fascinated as his nostrils flared before he made his way to his feet. He felt a little dizzy, but not that bad. He’d taken worse beatings in bar fights.

“What in the Sam Hill do you think your fool ass is doing?”

“No time for this Bones. I know what a concussion feels like, and this isn’t it. Fucker just knocked me out.” Jim stood for a moment, noticing for the first time that his communicator and insignia were missing.  Looking down made his stomach roll unpleasantly. Jim walked over to the wall console, absently wiping the blood from his head onto his uniform pants. “Kirk to Scott.”

“Aye, sir. The Commander filled me in. He’s on his way. ‘M on the transporter m’self. No one will get off the old girl without—Lieutenant! What are you…?” There was a scuffle and a burst of phaser fire. For a second Jim thought he’d swallowed his tongue. “Scotty! Scotty! Report, damnit!”

The ship-wide klaxon that informed security that a phaser had been discharged on board went off. Jim bit off of his curse, turning and running for the Jeffereies tube nearest to him. Who the fuck on his ship would shoot a commanding officer?

“What the fuck—?“  Bones was only a step behind him as they ran. The main transporter room was three decks away, but protocol had the ship on lockdown after unauthorized phaser fire. Jim didn’t bother answering, instead concentrating his energy on running. His head throbbed with every step. Jim concentrated, his senses sharpening with the familiar adrenaline rush. They moved more quickly, pushing out of the bulkhead with a small thump and running to the transporter room doors. Scotty was slumped to the left of the transporter station, Spock’s fingers flying over the keys of the transporter console. Jim noticed that Bones made a beeline for the fallen engineer.


“Lieutenant Commander Scott appears to have been hit at close range by phaser fire, sir.  I have entered the lockdown sequence per protocol. Captain, there seems to be an error with the equipment. According to the transporter log, no one has left the Enterprise.”

Jim’s eyes widened. He whirled again reaching for his communicator before remembering its absence. “Computer! Are any crew members missing from the ship?”

“Affirmative. Captain James T. Kirk is not currently located on the Enterprise.”

“Oh, fuck me. Perfect.” Jim cursed under his breath. Someone shot Scotty and left the ship. Whoever it was had covered their tracks pretty fucking well. Jim’s hands were pretty well tied by ship’s protocol and regulations. The shooter was free to act however they wanted. Unfortunately, Scotty was out of it, and no help to find out who had done this.

Jim entered the code and listened to the ship-wide whistle. “Now hear this. This is the Captain. Medical team one to Transporter room A. All crew members to retinal and cranial scan stations immediately then should report to their designated areas as soon as possible. All Alpha shift bridge crew report to the bridge immediately. We are on a level one priority ship-wide lockdown.”

The retinal and cranial scans would tell him who was physically missing off of the ship.

The one flaw with the computer’s report was that it relied on the signal from the communicator. A very simple way around being found when you didn’t want to be was to remove your insignia. Jim had taken advantage of that more than once while at the Academy. That was par for the course with Starfleet. Amazing technology- that Jim’s nephew Peter could logic his way around. Of course, the penalties for being caught without your proper identification were severe, but that certainly didn’t help him now.

“Bones, do you need help?”

Jim could see the large red wound under Scotty’s uniform shirt. Bones was swearing under his breath as he worked over their fallen friend.

“What I need is the damn med crew to-“ The doors whooshed open  and Jim spun, only to find that Spock had already put himself between the doors and his captain. “About time!” Bones rocked back on his heels and stood, allowing the medical team that entered to transfer Scotty from the floor to the hover-stretcher, looking over his shoulder at Jim as he hurried out of the doorway. “You stay with the hobgoblin. I mean it Jim. No heroics.”

“Yes, mommy.”

Jim could almost hear Spock raising his eyebrow as the Vulcan turned back to the console, killing the klaxon and leaving them in red alert. That had been just about the first thing Jim had done once they were in the black- arrange it so that when they went to red alert the actual siren only sounded a few times before fading away. The damn thing had startled him out of his thinking one too many times, and he’d stayed up all night one night to program the fucking annoying thing into a silent death. Now the red lights still flashed dully, signifying that the crew needed to remain in a heightened sense of awareness, but it didn’t drive him bugshit.

Bones left with hardly an acknowledgment, already concentrating on his patient. Spock was already standing at the transporter, fingers flying over the keys once again. Jim walked over to enter his own captain code.

“Captain. It is illogical for you to remain in charge while obviously suffering from a head injury.”

“Can it, Spock. Let’s get to the bridge. The crew should be accounted for soon, and I want to know whose balls I need to remove.”

Jim thought Spock looked as though he was about to argue. Jim just raised his eyebrows and tore the bottom of his uniform shirt off, folding it and pressing it to his head, which was still bleeding sluggishly. He hardly noticed the pain, but heard Spock give a small sound of disgust. Or perhaps frustration. Who knew with Vulcans?

They jumped into the Jefferies space, Jim muttered under his breath at the way Spock seemed to move so gracefully, and then annoyed that he’d
noticed Spock moving so gracefully. Jim shook his head  when a slight bit of dizziness overwhelmed him  for a second... Jim followed Spock’s lead, telling himself that he was absolutely not noticing the view. Whatsoever.Well, at least that affirmed that he wasn’t dying. Although, if he was, Jim was pretty sure that he’d be okay if the last view that he’d take with him was of Spock’s muscular ass in the perfectly fitted black trousers.

It was with quite a bit of relief that they climbed out of the small crawlspace, Jim stumbling a little as his center of gravity shifted as he stood. Spock steadied him with a hand on his elbow and Jim couldn’t help but flinch away again, ashamed at his own thoughts. This time, he could see that his action had bothered Spock. Oh, sure he didn’t throw up his arms and stomp off in a tizzy, but the way his posture straightened even more, the way his hands came to rest at the small of his back in parade rest spoke volumes.


Today just really wasn’t his day.

The door slid open when Spock entered his command code, and Jim was pleased to see his crew ready for action. Sulu and Chekov had both turned slightly so that they could see him as paused on the bridge, still dabbing at his head with his bloody bit of uniform.

“Captain, I have a report from the retinal and cranial scans. It appears that Lieutenant… Giotto is missing from the Enterprise.”

“Captain, a representative from Paxis requests our assistance immediately.”

“Captain, scanners adwise that all crew members are in their designated areas.”

“Captain, I must insist that you sit down. There is a 39.2 percent chance of your wound becoming a more permanent injury if it is not treated immediately.”

Jim breathed deeply in, letting everyone’s words roll around him for just a moment.  His hands clenched into fists, then he forced himself to relax, opening his eyes and taking one more deep breath before speaking.

“Sulu. See if you can get me beam-down coordinates. Move us to yellow alert, but advise the crew that only level three ship’s tasks are to be completed. All other crew are confined to their designated areas until we get a better idea of what the fuck is going on. Uhura, give me three minutes and put the representative on screen. Chekov, that’s great. Work with Sulu to see if you can help figure out how Cupcake fooled the transporter scanners into thinking that no one beamed down. You’ll have to patch it from here until we’re sure he was working alone. Spock, thank you for your concern. You and Bones can mother-hen me later. Kinda busy right now. Scan the planet to see if you can give us a head’s up to why the mining rep is freaking out.”

Jim walked down to his chair and sat, crossing his legs. He tried to hide the way his footing slipped when the dizziness from his head injury made his vision blurry for a moment. Shit. maybe he was more hurt than he thought.  The thought made him jut out his chin. No. No way was he crapping out during an emergency. He could pass out later.

“Okay so we have a random event of Giotto attacking me then shooting Scotty to beam off of the ship. Why? Why him? Why would he be working against us? And why now…?” Jim trailed off. He had a brief moment of paranoia, wondering if Giotto had been working against him ever since they’d “met” at the bar in Iowa before he trampled it down. That was crazy.

His crew was used to him talking out a problem then lapsing into silence. He steepled his fingers over his face as he stared at the blank viewscreen, one boot jiggling against the chair base.

“Captain. Planet scans show slight seismic activity. Nothing near the mining colony.”

“Captain, I have the mining representative onscreen.”

“Okay, Lieutenant, thank you. Spock, continue scans.” Jim took a deep breath and watched as the frazzled-looking miner appeared on the Enterprise’s viewscreen. He was extremely tall and burly looking, the man was clearly some kind of mixed species, with the blue skin of an Andorian and the singular cranial bone structure of a Klingon. He was wearing a green tunic and hat, and for a second Jim’s mind screamed ‘
tree!’ at him until he beat it back down into submission. The tall man seemed to be staring at something out of their range of sight. Whatever it was, it made the man frightened enough to begin sweating.  Jim didn’t think he’d ever seen a Klingon sweat. Let alone a blue Klingon. “This is Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation Starship Enterprise. Are you in distress?”

“I—yes. I need for you and your first officer to beam down to the planet immediately.”

Jim felt his eyebrow raise, stretching almost up to his hairline. He’d practiced that for hours- calling the look his ‘Spock wanabe.’  “I repeat, Minister. Are you in distress?”

“Yes! Please you must- he. He has my daugh-”  There was a scuffle of sound and the mining representative looked even more terrified just off the viewer’s center.  

“Oh come on,
cupcake. You know you like to be the center of attention. You and that pointy-eared freak need to come on down. I have some demands that need to be discussed… in person.”

Maybe Jim should have expected it. Maybe he could have anticipated it- if his head hadn’t been throbbing. But, seeing Giotto step onto the screen was a shock. Jim was able to keep his face impassive, but it took some effort.

“Starfleet does not comply with ransom demands, as I am sure you are aware Mr. Giotto.” Spock’s voice was calm, each word precisely spoken. “I am unsure as to your reasoning behind th—“

Jim could feel his bridge crew’s shock, when in response  to Spock, Giotto simply shot the mining representative. Uhura made a small sound when the man disappeared, his molecules obliterated to nothingness as the phaser discharged.

“As you can
see,” Giotto mimicked the inflection of Spock’s voice, “This is not a ransom demand. You and your pet Vulcan will beam down here immediately or I will end the life of each being on this planet. And don’t quote fucking Starfleet. Starfleet hasn’t done nothin’ for me! I’m not working as a member of Starfleet. Here’s the coordinates. I blow this place to kingdom-come in exactly ten minutes. If you want that on your conscious, fine.”

The communication ended abruptly.

“Captain, I must advice that—“

“Jim! You can’t really be—“

“Keptin there-“

“Captain, McCoy’ll kill us if we let—“  

Jim held up his hand to forestall their conversations. All four of them, Spock, Nyota, Chekov and Sulu had turned to look at Jim, each speaking over the other with their protests. “Clear the bridge, please. Command crew, you’re with me.”

Jim could see Chekov out of the corner of his eye almost vibrating in place while he tried to keep himself quiet, waiting until the few people whose jobs called for them to be in secondary places on the bridge left. He took a deep breath and stood up, needing to move.
The dizziness wasn’t nearly as bad this time. He walked until he was up next to the
viewscreen, turning to look at the worried faces of his friends. Spock didn’t look worried, but Jim could see that he was holding himself so rigidly that he seemed like a statue.

“I’m going.”

There were a flurry of the expected protests. Jim raised his hand again and spoke. “Chekov. You still have remote control of the transporter. I need you to stand down the lockdown and beam me over. Nyota, you’re monitoring me like a sonofabitch. You report everything back to Spock, once we know what the hell is going on here. Spock, you’re staying here. Sulu—“

“Captain, I will be accompanying you to the planet, per the request of Giotto.”

“The hell you will! You’re staying here, on this ship and that’s an order, Mister.”

Jim glared as Spock simply walked forward. “You are being illogical. You are wounded, and performing at an estimated 66.4% peak efficiency.”

I’m being illogical? You’re insubordinate! That is a direct order, Mister Spock. You are in charge of this ship until my return.” Jim knew he had to look stupid standing there with his mouth open, but he couldn’t believe that Spock of all people was refusing a direct order.

“Negative. You may, of course take whatever disciplinary action that you deem necessary against me upon our return to the Enterprise.” Spock’s eyes flicked to Jim’s shoulder. “Rendering you incapacitated will be of negligible difficulty, should the need arise.” He paused for a moment. It was dead silent on the bridge. Jim didn’t look away from Spock’s carefully blank stare. “I shall meet you in Transporter room A.”

Jim shut his mouth with a snap. “Ensign, did my first officer just threaten me?”

“Eh…. Uh… I…”

“Riiiiight. That’s what I thought.” Jim met Nyota’s clear gaze. She looked for a second that she was about to laugh. Her lips twitched and Jim gave her a confused look. Nyota looked down rather quickly. “I’ll be monitoring your frequencies, Captain.”

What the fuck is happening here?

“Thank you. Sulu, you’ll have the con until Scotty is back.” Jim took a deep breath. He had about eight minutes to get to the planet. Maybe there he’d find out what the hell was happening. He was pretty damn sick of being the last to know what the hell was going on on his own damn ship.

Jim was still seething as he made his way back to the transporter room. Spock was moving so stiffly that he seemed almost like a statue. Jim couldn’t believe that Spock would violate a direct order. He tried again, his own worry almost choking him as he stopped suddenly, reaching out and grabbing Spock’s forearm.

“Please Spock. It doesn’t make any sense for you to go down there too.”

“On the contrary, complying with Giotto’s wishes might give us answers. If you do not comply, the likelihood that you will not return from the moon’s surface is...”

“Come on, Spock. You’re the one who I trust to get me out of the crazy shit that I get myself into.”

Spock was actually silent for a moment. Jim watched as his facial features softened slightly. “Indeed. That is why I will accompany you down to Praxis. I believe the common Terran colloquialism is, ‘The matter is now closed.’”

“So this is what this feels like? Funny, I never noticed how fucking annoying it is before.”

“Perhaps because our situations were reversed. I assure you, were I prone to emotional exaggeration, ‘fucking annoying’ is most assuredly one apt descriptor. Captain, we have approximately four minutes to beam to Giotto’s coordinates. It would be wise to move quickly.”

Jim, despite the seriousness of the situation, could not stop grinning as Chekov worked the controls from the bridge, transporting them to Giotto’s coordinates in a swirl of bright light.


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