I set myself a writing challenge and filled it in about an hour. All three ficlets are set in the TOS universe, but I guess they can be read as STXI if you prefer it that way.
Challenge: Use the word “love” in relation to Kirk and McCoy, Kirk and Spock, and Spock and McCoy.
EDIT: Augh. Livejournal ate my formatting. Bold and italics have now been added. My apologies.
1.
Nine days with no word, nine damn days, and when they finally beam him up he's grinning that cocky grin and stepping casually down off the transporter and McCoy can't decide if he wants to sob with relief or punch him.
Instead he steps forward and runs his tricorder over the already protesting captain.
“I'm fine, Bones.” And dammit, he sounds amused.
“I'll be the judge of that.”
“They didn't hurt me. Just kept me locked up.”
The tricorder backs up this story, and McCoy is back to his internal debate between tears and violence. He takes a third option, and grabs Jim into a tight hug. “You're an idiot,” he growls, and Jim laughs and returns the embrace.
“So I've been told.”
“A damn fool,” McCoy continues, loosening his hold slightly. He's not pulling away yet – not when he's spent the past nine days imagining every single thing that could have been happening to Jim down on that planet, not when he's been relentlessly tortured by the knowledge that he could do nothing to help, not when he can feel Jim's heart beating steadily against him. “You never bother to look before you leap.”
He can practically hear his captain smirking. “And that's why you love me.”
Bones laughs into his shoulder and finally steps away. “It's also why you're the only man on the ship who spends as much time in sickbay as I do. You do something like this again, I'm locking you in there, Jim.”
“I'll keep that in mind.”
---
2.
They're lying in Jim's bed, not doing anything – a common enough set of circumstances. Jim is always pleased to find he doesn't mind this. He touches Spock's face, experiencing the usual burst of warm pride at the knowledge that he can, and silently makes his request.
Spock reaches out, fingers falling habitually into place. “My mind to your mind,” he murmurs, and Jim closes his eyes.
What do you wish, T'hy'la?
Even while largely unconscious of his physical being, he feels himself smiling at the word.
Show me something I haven't seen yet.
They are a small boy, wandering the house long after they should be in bed. They stop outside their parents' room as they hear voices.
“Sarek, tell me why you married me.”
They debate for a moment about going back to their room, but the subject interests them. They sit quietly down against the wall and listen.
“You were the logical choice for a mate.”
“I was not. I'm not a vulcan. Why did you marry me, Sarek?”
“It arose from a logic having nothing to do with biology, as you well know.”
“The logic of the heart, Sarek?”
“The heart is a part of the biological system, Amanda.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I fail to see why you constantly attempt to draw me into this conversation.”
“One of my emotional human needs, dear. Tell me why you married me without using the word 'logic.'”
The “I-love-you” is of the vaguely exasperated and detachedly amused variety, but there is sincerity in it.
They stand and go back to their room.
Jim opens his eyes and finds himself staring at his own ceiling. Rolling over, he meets Spock's gaze. He smiles tentatively, hesitant to jump to the conclusion he hopes he's supposed to have drawn. “Any reason you chose that particular memory?”
“Yes.”
Spock doesn't elaborate. He leans forward and softly presses their lips together. Jim finds Spock's hand under the sheets and touches his fingers in a gesture that is becoming second nature. He sends another request through the connection, and Spock gives silent permission. Jim shifts, resting his head on Spock's chest and allowing himself to fall asleep against the cool skin.
---
3.
Spock never means any of the jabs he makes about McCoy's medical skills. They both know this. He has seen the man bring people back from the brink of death, and he has been one of those people more than once.
If he has one honest criticism, it is the lack of professional detachment. McCoy is the sort of human who “wears his heart on his sleeve,” as Spock has heard it said. Usually, when in the role of healer, he manages to get around this aspect of his personality. But when Spock has watched him work on the captain, and when he has woken to him at his own bedside, he has seen the sort of fear in his eyes that only comes from friendship and love.
When their positions are suddenly shifted, when they are deep underground with little hope of rescue, when McCoy is lying on a glorified table of a bed with everything wrong with him that possibly can be wrong and the vians simply don't care, Spock finally understands why the doctor has such trouble staying emotionally neutral in these situations.
Challenge: Use the word “love” in relation to Kirk and McCoy, Kirk and Spock, and Spock and McCoy.
EDIT: Augh. Livejournal ate my formatting. Bold and italics have now been added. My apologies.
1.
Nine days with no word, nine damn days, and when they finally beam him up he's grinning that cocky grin and stepping casually down off the transporter and McCoy can't decide if he wants to sob with relief or punch him.
Instead he steps forward and runs his tricorder over the already protesting captain.
“I'm fine, Bones.” And dammit, he sounds amused.
“I'll be the judge of that.”
“They didn't hurt me. Just kept me locked up.”
The tricorder backs up this story, and McCoy is back to his internal debate between tears and violence. He takes a third option, and grabs Jim into a tight hug. “You're an idiot,” he growls, and Jim laughs and returns the embrace.
“So I've been told.”
“A damn fool,” McCoy continues, loosening his hold slightly. He's not pulling away yet – not when he's spent the past nine days imagining every single thing that could have been happening to Jim down on that planet, not when he's been relentlessly tortured by the knowledge that he could do nothing to help, not when he can feel Jim's heart beating steadily against him. “You never bother to look before you leap.”
He can practically hear his captain smirking. “And that's why you love me.”
Bones laughs into his shoulder and finally steps away. “It's also why you're the only man on the ship who spends as much time in sickbay as I do. You do something like this again, I'm locking you in there, Jim.”
“I'll keep that in mind.”
---
2.
They're lying in Jim's bed, not doing anything – a common enough set of circumstances. Jim is always pleased to find he doesn't mind this. He touches Spock's face, experiencing the usual burst of warm pride at the knowledge that he can, and silently makes his request.
Spock reaches out, fingers falling habitually into place. “My mind to your mind,” he murmurs, and Jim closes his eyes.
What do you wish, T'hy'la?
Even while largely unconscious of his physical being, he feels himself smiling at the word.
Show me something I haven't seen yet.
They are a small boy, wandering the house long after they should be in bed. They stop outside their parents' room as they hear voices.
“Sarek, tell me why you married me.”
They debate for a moment about going back to their room, but the subject interests them. They sit quietly down against the wall and listen.
“You were the logical choice for a mate.”
“I was not. I'm not a vulcan. Why did you marry me, Sarek?”
“It arose from a logic having nothing to do with biology, as you well know.”
“The logic of the heart, Sarek?”
“The heart is a part of the biological system, Amanda.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I fail to see why you constantly attempt to draw me into this conversation.”
“One of my emotional human needs, dear. Tell me why you married me without using the word 'logic.'”
The “I-love-you” is of the vaguely exasperated and detachedly amused variety, but there is sincerity in it.
They stand and go back to their room.
Jim opens his eyes and finds himself staring at his own ceiling. Rolling over, he meets Spock's gaze. He smiles tentatively, hesitant to jump to the conclusion he hopes he's supposed to have drawn. “Any reason you chose that particular memory?”
“Yes.”
Spock doesn't elaborate. He leans forward and softly presses their lips together. Jim finds Spock's hand under the sheets and touches his fingers in a gesture that is becoming second nature. He sends another request through the connection, and Spock gives silent permission. Jim shifts, resting his head on Spock's chest and allowing himself to fall asleep against the cool skin.
---
3.
Spock never means any of the jabs he makes about McCoy's medical skills. They both know this. He has seen the man bring people back from the brink of death, and he has been one of those people more than once.
If he has one honest criticism, it is the lack of professional detachment. McCoy is the sort of human who “wears his heart on his sleeve,” as Spock has heard it said. Usually, when in the role of healer, he manages to get around this aspect of his personality. But when Spock has watched him work on the captain, and when he has woken to him at his own bedside, he has seen the sort of fear in his eyes that only comes from friendship and love.
When their positions are suddenly shifted, when they are deep underground with little hope of rescue, when McCoy is lying on a glorified table of a bed with everything wrong with him that possibly can be wrong and the vians simply don't care, Spock finally understands why the doctor has such trouble staying emotionally neutral in these situations.