#star trek aos fanfiction

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

A Khan By Any Other Name

a prequel to Star Trek: Into Darkness

mystery, suspense, danger ~ romance & NSFW material to follow

summary: Seraphina DiPietro is wise in the ways of the world of world; she has to be, as she travels the California coast as a torch singer in pubs, bars, and nightclubs. She knows how to take care of herself and stay out of trouble--most of the time. When trouble comes, it's usually because she lets her kind heart overrule her common sense. Stopping to check on a handsome stranger stranded roadside in the Mojave Desert, her curiousity is piqued as much by his classic, mint-looking Mustang, as by its driver--a tall, dark, mysterious drink of water, whom she quickly learns is so much more than he appears.

characters: Khan Noonien Singh (aka: John Harrison), Seraphina DiPietro (OC)

word count: 2.4k

Chapter One

Her first mistake had been slowing down to have a second look.  Three plus years with a vintage car enthusiast (her ex now, thank god; three months gone and good riddance to him, her mantra whenever he crossed her mind) had ingrained the habit in her. The habit, frankly, plus an appreciative eye for the sweetest of rides.  Thanks to Simon (and his obsession), she could distinguish in seconds between the genuine article and that which easily fooled the masses, a cunningly detailed replica—and the sleek ragtop that looked to have skidded to the side of the road, leaving a spray a gravel and black, burnt rubber in its tracks, was absolutely the real thing.

So she’d slowed down, only half meaning to, cataloguing the fine details and quickly estimating its worth, while admiring its classic lines and the bright flash of its chrome detailings.  Seraphina couldn’t keep from grinning, thinking about how instantly covetous Simon would be in the face of such a find, and how jealous he would feel to know that she had stumbled upon it with no effort whatsoever.

The man bending over the open hood

straightened as she passed, arresting her attention with a commanding, steely gaze that left her feeling like a marked woman.  As though he not only saw her, in her every visible feature, but somehow inexplicably knew her—and needed her.  Vitally, and immediately. Despite the lick of common sense apprehension that fluttered through her vitals, simple curiosity and a deeply embedded tendency to act the good Samaritan had Seraphina making her second, even bigger, mistake of the afternoon--pulling over to park her hovercraft several feet in front of his stalled vehicle.

She looked into her rearview mirror; he had turned to watch how she would proceed, holding his hands up with his fingers splayed wide, surely his way of expressing she could approach him safely.  “Not so fast, buddy,” she murmured, “I wasn’t born yesterday…and I’ve seen your kind before.” Sera cut the engine, pulling the keys from the ignition and flicking the lock mechanism off the small can of mace dangling from her keyring.  She wasn’t so foolhardy as to face the tall, well-built stranger unprepared; nearly a decade of travels up and down the coast of California, performing in seedy, small town dives, then upscale pubs and bars, and finally city nightclubs, had taught her well to be ever on her guard.

And she’d learned a few tricks in the course of her career, for if the mace should fail; she could—and had—flipped a drunk onto his back a time or two, who’d tried to cop a feel when she passed across a darkened dancefloor; and she knew all too well how much force was necessary, knee to groin, in order to incapacitate those pigheaded brutes who wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer when they followed her out to the parking lot at the end of a gig. Handsome he might be (decidedly so, she mused, angular features, piercing eyes, thick, dark hair, an errant lock strayed upon his brow; such a striking combination!) but she was not fool enough to ever judge the book by it’s cover.

The stranger stood motionless a moment more, the light breeze ruffling that wayward lock until he brushed it back, a swift yet languid move that spoke of cat-like grace and an elegance that didn’t fit the setting or the way that he was clothed.  He was straight-backed, slim-hipped, long-legged--and poised with a confidence befitting a prince, and not the work-a-day posture of a blue-collar joe or road-weary drifter.  Yet the smile he gave her did not reach his eyes; Sera found it a little feral, and felt her pulse increase as a taste of adrenaline—that trusty “fight or flee” response—hit her system.

But she was already committed, having left the safety and cool comfort of her two-seater; if he was an actual threat, the worse that she could do was show the weakness of timidity now. Sera left her sunglasses in place, determined he would not read a bit of doubt in her eyes or bearing, the can of mace tucked neatly in the palm of her left hand, and walking forward into the dry, baking, Mojave Desert heat.

Sera gave a low but audible whistle, advancing as casually as she could, finally calling out to him, "She's a real beauty--and someone's taken serious loving care of her too." The 300-year-old Mustang appeared as close to mint as any vintage vehicle she had ever seen; given its obvious value, she had to wonder why the hell he would even have it on the road--especially in desert conditions. That instinctive voice of warning sounded an answer in her head: that's because it's not his.

Okay, Sera, she cautioned herself, give him the benefit of the doubt; he could have come by that automobile in any number of ways. She stopped a half-dozen steps from where the stranger stood, aiming to read his reaction as she asked, "Early 21st century, right?"

The man smiled--more sincerely this time--and nodded. "That she is," he replied, sparing a brief look at the stalled car, "Unfortunately, she's not going anywhere, anytime soon." His smooth, deep voice was as pleasant to the ears as his form was easy on his eyes, and his accent distinctly British, leaving Sera to ponder how and why he'd found his way into the midst of the Mojave. "I believe it's the transmission," he added.

In an instant, his eyes flicked downward, as though he registered that small, innocuous movement. She rushed to fill the vacuum of silence that hung between them, hoping to distract him from whatever suspicions her little move might have awakened.  “I know collectors,” she told him, running her right hand through her hair, fluffing it a bit, hoping to draw his eyes upwards again “…fanatical ones, who would pay a small fortune to make such a treasure theirs.”  She leaned toward him, adopting a confidential tone, honest in her curiosity, “However did you manage it?”

Sera could hear the tick of the internal combustion engine as it cooled, informing her he hadn't been stranded long. Surveying the area behind the Mustang, she spotted several telltale puddles of transmission fluid in the car's wake. "Looks like you might've blown a hose," she speculated, indicating the fluid spotting the back trail. "Those kind of parts are few and far between these days...but I bet we can find a mechanic who might be able to juryrig something enough to get you on the road again."

She turned back to find him watching her, his exotic-looking eyes narrowed. Appraising her in a way that made her feel...exposed. Unnerved. Vulnerable. Sera squeezed her hand against the reassuring weight of the small, defensive weapon cupped in her palm.

He inhaled sharply, a fleeting look of calculation crossing his face.  “It was an unexpected…” he paused, studying her carefully, “…but well-timed acquisition of…convenience.”  Such a reply was far too vague to answer her question—but didn’t surprise her in the least.

“Then you must be a man of remarkable luck, Mr…” Sera let her voice trail off with the question, fully expecting there would be little truth in his answer.

And then he was moving past the safe cushion of space between them, extending a large, powerful looking hand towards her, as way of introduction. “Harrison. I’m…John Harrison.” His grip was firm, not too tight, but Sera sensed—felt—a strength restrained that fit his bearing perfectly. Intimidating, but not frightening; confident—and intriguing her beyond her good sense should allow; and his eyes were locked on her, regarding her with such curiosity and healthy appraisal, that she slipped her sunglasses atop her head without a moment’s hesitation, meaning to meet his gaze directly.  

Sera hadn’t realized she was staring until he cleared his throat. “And you are?” he asked, smiling warmly, surely feeling the advantage now of having gotten past her bravado.  Her mouth felt dry—it had to be the arid atmosphere and not embarrassment over her awkward reaction to him--so that her tongue actually stuck a moment before she stammered out her name. “Seraphina.”  She said it rather breathlessly, then bit her lip against revealing her surname.

Harrison had not released her hand, although his grip was gentle, and the warmth of his skin pleasant against her own.  “Seraphina,” he repeated, the small smile creases bracketing his mouth deepening, and a hint of his true smile finally reaching his eyes.  “Lovely name, Seraphina. Exotic in its way, and as rare and fetching as a desert rose.”

Ordinarily, Sera would laugh off such obvious flattery; she’d had enough of it--and insincere at that--throughout her years as a torch singer.  This stranger—John Harrison—looked a better class of man than those who usually tried to ply her with compliments.  That was no reason, of course, to take him more seriously than any of the others.  And yet she felt a sort of…solemnity…about him; a dignity and self-assurance that spoke of a far more purposeful life than those of plain, ordinary men. He was damned attractive too, enough to have her a bit flummoxed at so dear a distance.  

"Seraphina,” he reiterated, teasing the syllables along, the depth and richness of his voice making her shiver a little despite the desert heat. “A derivative of seraphim, the highest order of celestial beings in religious myth.  Heavenly, fiery, winged immortals, tasked with surrounding and praising the throne of god.”  He leaned nearer, well past that unspoken barrier of personal space, closing his eyes while inhaling deeply through his nose, seeming to seek her essence by scent alone.

Such unexpected intimacy left Seraphina speechless, every instinct she had telling her to give ground a step or two—yet she remained still, for when he opened his eyes, she found herself fascinated by their changing hue. Seraphina had never seen such striking eyes on a man before; and she’d have sworn that they were blue.  Pale blue when she’d seen them from a distance, in the bright, unfiltered sun; then a surprising, piercing, azure when she met him face to face.  Now they seem to shift unpredictably from purely blue to nearly green with however the light played upon them, with flecks of gold speckling around the pupils.

“I wonder,” he mused, almost to himself, while Sera remained entranced and silent, unable to look away despite knowing she must look utterly foolish, “Might you be the angel of mercy I’m in such desperate need of?”

Befuddled, Sera sputtered back, "I...um...what?", finally taking a step back and pulling her hand from his grasp.

"I mean to say how fortunate I am, you came along precisely as you did. " Harrison shrugged and took a step back as well, his manner self-effacing enough to lend sincerity to his words. "And that your nature is a kind one--I imagine most women would have cruised by without a care for my predicament, given this isolated location and the potential threat I could embody."

Regaining her composure, Sera lifted her chin proudly, "I've managed to look after myself for many years now, and in dodgier situations." Her usual insoucience restored, she asked the most vital of questions, looking him squarely in the eyes to read the truth before he even answered, "Do I have reason to fear for my safety, Mr. Harrison?"

His eyes widened and he grinned, and then he began to laugh. Heartfelt, and deep in his throat; the rich sound of melted, dark chocolate--the rare sort of sweet that was supposed to be healthy for one, but only if consumed in moderation. A woman could lose herself in such a laugh, she realized, and I'll bet he knows it too.

"If there was any reason at all, you've quite disarmed me already." Now it seemed he was sizing her up beyond first impressions--and liking what he saw, by the look of satisfaction on his face. "I promise you, Ms..."

"It's just Seraphina for now please, if it's all the same to you. " Sera pressed her lips thin against the smile that wanted to break forth, enjoying both his unspoken surprise at her overall boldness--and what she dared to believe was an appreciation for her physical charms.

Harrison acquiesced with a tilt of his head. "Then I promise you, pretty Seraphina, that I harbor no ill intent towards you. And I would be deeply indebted to you for the aid I am sure you intend to offer me."

She felt her cheeks flush at his easy compliment--not taken in, but happy to accept it nonetheless. "Well, it's a shame to have to abandon her here, but the closest hope you have for a spare part--and a mechanic with working knowledge of antique cars--is at least a hundred miles away."

"Alright then," he affirmed, moving past her to slam shut the Mustang's hood, "We should probably be on our way."

"Of course." Sera turned to follow him, wanting a closer look at the rare vehicle before they drove away. "You should put the top up too; you may not make it back here until tomorrow at least."

He nodded again, striding to the driver's side door to start the car and raise the top. Something not quite right here, she thought, frowning; I could swear that this model and the ones that followed, had a remote on the key fob to control the mechanism. It reminded her that she'd initially thought the car did not belong to him--and that somehow she had allowed his charm cause her to lower her guard.

She stepped to the passenger side, hoping for a peek inside to confirm her growing suspicion. "You ought to raise the windows, too," she told him, leaning close enough to peer inside the passenger side window, "No telling what might find its way inside here once darkness falls. It gets pretty cold here at night..." Sera swallowed hard when she got a look at the ignition cylinder; it had been removed from its place beneath the steering wheel and hung down by several wires. The wires themselves appeared to have been rearranged.

Her heart in her throat, Seraphina searched her memory for the word to describe exactly what she was seeing. Hotwired. That's what they called it; a quick and easy way to boost a car. Simon had educated her, marveling at the skill of those he'd read about who could do do in under a minute. She'd never dreamed of seeing something like it up close. Yet there it was, and the man who'd done it clearly hadn't wanted her to see it. Which meant...

He was faster than her by far; almost preternaturally fast. Harrison had grabbed her left arm ( --- damn, he had noted she was carrying something there! --- ) through the window opening, his iron grip digging into her flesh painfully. "Drop it," he ordered her, "Drop it now. I can explain everything if you just remain calm, Seraphina."

She didn't mean to, but she whimpered softly, not only at the discomfort he was inflicting, but also for the cold menace in his eyes. Had she thought them beautiful, compelling, alluring, just moments ago? Now it seemed to her they were the deadliest eyes she had seen in her life.

(to be continued)

#my writing #A Khan By Any Other Name #mystery #danger #Star Trek: Into Darkness #Star Trek Into Darkness #Khan #my dark magnificent prince #John Harrison #Seraphina DiPietro #OFC #OC #Khan x OFC #Khan xOC #star trek aos fan fiction #star trek fan fiction #star trek fanfiction #star trek aos fanfiction #khan fan fiction #khan fanfiction #Khan Noonien Singh #Khanbatch #Benedict Cumberbatch #My Muse #My Constant Muse

[wanderingjedihistorian]

Chapters: 11/11 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: James T. Kirk, Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Spock (Star Trek), Nyota Uhura, Crew of the Starship Enterprise, Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody, Ghost Company Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars), 212th Attack Battalion Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars) Additional Tags: Space Anomalies, Inter-universe travel, Banter, Mission Fic, Finding a way home, Jim is a Little Shit, Leonard McCoy is so done, obi-wan kenobi is a nerd, Cody despairs of it sometimes but he loves his idiot Jedi anyway, A great time is had by all, Leonard McCoy is good at what he does and that's a problem for a Sith Lord in another universe, tags will be added as this is updated, IFDChallenge2023, International Fanworks Day 2023, Both crews have been through some things, Bones finds the chips and does not like the math, Obi-Wan has a bad feeling about this, Stubborn CC-2224 | Cody, Frank discussion of the less than stellar parts of the Republics policies Series: Part 1 of Live Long and May The Force Be With You

Chapter summary: The Negotiator is back and now they all need to act on what they learned. 

Final chapter!

#my writing #star wars fanfiction #star trek aos fanfiction #codywan #mckirk

[starfleetimagines]

AOS Masterlist

Reader-Inserts

Pavel Chekov

Period Cramps (femme reader)

Moving Forward

Being His Betazoid Wife Would Include...

Set Up

Pavel Helping His Wife Relax After An Anxiety-Filled Day Would Include...

James T. Kirk

“I can’t explain it right now, but I need you to trust me.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.”

Family

Study Buddy

Being His Twin Would Include...

Leonard "Bones" McCoy

"Have you lost your damn mind?!"

"I'm going to take care of you, okay?"

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

Mismatched Uniforms

You Get Hurt

Medical Anxiety

Flirting in Sickbay

Shore Leave

Study Date

Dance Practice

"I won't tell if you won't." (slightly nsfw)

Being His Sister Would Include...

Montgomery "Scotty" Scott

"That's a promise."

Open Waters

Spock

"To say that was unexpected is an understatement."

Fireplace

Hot Chocolate

Christmas Carols

Multi

The Enterprise (TOS/AOS) Crew Finding Out You’re Bisexual Would Include…

#star trek imagines #star trek fanfiction #star trek aos #star trek reboot #star trek kelvin timeline #star trek aos fanfiction #star trek one shot #fanfiction masterlists

[orangesunsets12]

December Winter Fic #1 - Star Trek AOS

Ice Skates and Hockey Sticks

AO3 Link

Star Trek: Alternate Original Series, can be read as Original Series

Rated Teen and Up for injury.

Featuring Jim & Bones friendship, and Grumpy Bones.

Minor injury. An attempt at winter fluff.

Jim Kirk takes the crew of the Enterprise on shore leave, where they go ice skating. Leonard McCoy is against the idea, is very verbal about that fact, but doesn't really have a choice in the matter when Jim is involved.

As it turns out, the experience is more than what he bargained for, in both the good and the bad. Leonard isn't all that surprised by the bad.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I have to say, Jim, I really don’t see a point in this.”

“Oh come on, Bones!” Jim said, sliding on his ice skate effortlessly. “It’ll be fun!”

“Fun is not the term I would use for ice skating, of all things. In this weather, no less.” Leonard mumbled, sitting on the cold bench, shivering. His own ice skates sat uselessly beside him, getting covered in the snow that fell from the sky. 

When he imagined shore leave, he didn’t imagine this. Sure, it was the beginning of December, so snow was expected in most places on Terra. But couldn’t Jim have picked a place in the Bahamas? Why did they have to come to this harsh remake of the Ice Ages?

The gray skies above them was nothing like the vacation he was dreaming about, if anything it made him want to go back to the Enterprise and finish the paperwork that was piling up. Scotty was lucky, he had managed to get out of this adventure because of engineering work. Or, perhaps Jim sympathized with him more because the engineer was stranded on an ice planet for years, and Leonard didn’t have an excuse as good at that, despite the work needed in medical.

He grumbled under his breath at the reminder of his job, then thinking about all of the illnesses they could get from the cold, the hypothermia risk, the chance of getting frostbite due the cold wind. It was dangerous out here, not darkness and silence, but cold and unforgiving. 

“Bones, really?” Jim said with a laugh, shaking his head as he stood up. “Even Spock is skating, and he hates the cold!”

“I do not hate the cold, Captain.” Spock said, skating over to them easily. Uhura, who was basically attached to his side the whole time, was now talking in the middle of the ice with Chekov. The kid seemed to be in his element, he wasn’t even wearing a hat. “My psychology merely is not accustomed to such cold temperatures.”

“See? He should be back on the Enterprise. I can check him for sicknesses he’ll no doubt get from this blistering cold.” Leonard grumbled, but Jim patted him on the back. 

“Skates on, McCoy. Do you really want to be sitting out here when the rest of us are out there living our best lives?”

“I don’t really fancy falling through the ice and leaving you to live your dangerous life alone.”

Nonetheless, Leonard found himself pulling on the ice skates, hating how cold his feet felt when he had to take them out of his boots, but thankful that he had the sense to wear thicker socks. Jim watched him, nearly jumping up and down, beaming at Leonard giving in, no doubt, while Spock stood still on the ice, eyeing them both with an eyebrow raised. His ears weren't fully covered by his cotton hat, and Leonard sighed. 

“Spock. Your hat. I don’t want to see you in sickbay later for frost-bitten ears.”

Spock nodded, pulling the hat further down on his head. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Go join Uhura, Spock.” Jim said with an easy smile. “I’ll get Bones on the ice.”

Spock nodded, and Leonard finally finished tying up his skates, much to his regret. Putting his gloves back on his hands, rubbing warmth back into his cold fingers, because he was not willing to sacrifice the use of his steady hands for something like this. 

Taking Jim’s hand, he pulled himself up, and he took the three shaky steps to the ice, holding onto Jim with a death grip. Jim thankfully didn’t say anything, but slowly eased him onto the ice. 

“Have you ever skated before?” Jim asked, quietly, keeping the conversation between them, and for that Leonard was grateful.

“When I was a kid. Not once since.” He admitted, and Jim nodded.

“Alright, it’s easy. Just take it slow.”

He huffed. “You didn’t seem to have that idea two seconds ago.”

“Well, now that you’re on the ice, I’m not letting you get off.”

McCoy sighed, muttering under his breath at how Jim was being unfair. He would’ve complained more, but he could feel the ice under his skates, slippery and threatening to make him fall, no doubt breaking a bone or two, so he had to focus on the task at hand. He hated how much he was shaking. 

“Bones…”

“I’m fine!” 

Jim grinned, yet it didn’t reach his eyes. “Alright, then let go of my arm.”

He glanced at his snake-like grip on Jim’s arms, and let go with a snarl. He wobbled, and he immediately splayed his arms out, hoping to catch himself. Thankfully, it seemed to work, if only temporarily. He couldn’t see himself going an inch forward like this. 

Why people enjoyed an activity like this was beyond him. 

“One second, stay right there.” Jim said, skating away at a breathtaking pace, flawlessly gliding against the ice, and Leonard mumbled under his breath.

“Not like I have an option.”

Nonetheless, McCoy took a hesitant step forward, wobbling awkwardly as he tried to gain his balance. Finally managing to look up from his feet, he could see Spock and Uhura now gliding along the ice, alone, while Sulu and Chekov eagerly took to playing a game of tag. Hikaru was awkwardly chasing Pavel, but the kid was too fast for him to reach him, coasting easily ahead of him. Every part of Leonard’s body screamed that this was dangerous, that someone was going to end up in Medbay if he didn’t do something about it, but another part of him enjoyed seeing them having fun, even if the fun wasn’t something that he could participate in himself. 

Jim was back in seconds, holding a hockey stick, and McCoy eyed him with distaste.

“What is that?”

“A hockey stick? You know, from an old Terra game!”

“I know what a hockey stick is, and I know what hockey is! You’re beginning to sound like Spock.”

Jim handed it to him, and he took it, resting the end of it on the ice and leaning his body weight against it, hoping that he wouldn’t break it. 

“Okay, so lean against it.”

“I am, Jim! And I’m fine.”

Jim eyed him knowingly. McCoy hated it, hated how much this kid actually knew him. 

He straightened his posture, letting the hockey stick hold him up, and slide one ice skate forward, trying to get used to the feel of the ice. He took a deep breath, and slid the next forward, hoping that the shaking in his legs would go away.

“There you go!” Jim encouraged, as if he was a puppy, and Leonard shot him a look. “Now, just a bit faster.”

“Give me some breathing room, will ya?”

Jim easily backed away, an easy smile on his face, and focused on Chekov, who had skated up to him easily, tapping his shoulder before skating away once more. 

“Captain! You’re it!” He shouted, his heavy accent laced with childhood excitement, and Jim brightened even more, giving Leonard one last look, as if waiting for permission to leave him alone. 

“I’ll live.” He said gruffly, “Barely.”

“Keep practicing, alright? I’ll keep an eye on you.”

With those words said, Jim joined in on their game of tag, and Leonard tried to keep his balance while watching them, amused. He tried to skate forward again, going slowly, skirting the edge of the iced over pond, knowing that he could fall into the snow and do less harm than if he fell on the ice. The wind was bitter, nipping his skin, and he wished that he had brought a scarf. But, it was too late now. He began moving his feet more frequently, trying to gain confidence, and the wind got stronger against him; he knew that he was going faster, still a snail's pace, but a huge improvement to before. He wasn’t gliding yet, just sliding slowly, but it made this dreary experience more enjoyable. Something sparked in his chest, something close to joy, but he didn’t dwell in it. He had to focus on the task at hand, despite how fun this was actually turning out to be. 

He wished that he could keep his eyes up and focused on what was around him, yet he lost his rhythm when he stopped looking at his feet. So, he stayed clear of the game going on in the middle, not wanting to cause a collision from his lack of attention.

It turns out his intervention wasn’t even necessary for a collision course to happen. He was so focused on his feet that he didn’t see it happen, but he heard the shout and the thump of bodies hitting the ground.

His head shot up to see Jim and Chekov splayed out on the ice, Jim clutching his nose while Chekov held onto his own head. Spock gracefully glided to their side, kneeling beside Jim as Uhura sat beside Pavel, while Sulu quickly got up from where he had apparently fallen. Leonard bolted over to them, dropping the hockey stick, completely forgetting about the ice skates on his feet, and slipped, careening to the ice with a crash. He felt the impact in his knees and thighs, but that didn’t stop him from getting to his patients. Crawling across the ice, he managed to reach Jim first, whose hand was covered in blood where it held his nose. 

“What happened?” He demanded, whipping out a medical tricorder from his pocket and hovering it over Jim’s head, expertly dodging Jim’s free hand trying to push him away. 

“From my observations, the captain was trying to avoid Ensign Chekov’s attempt to ‘tag’ him by sliding to a stop and spinning to the left. Lieutenant Sulu got in his way, and tripped on the captain’s leg, while Ensign Chekov predicted the captain's move, and the two slammed right into each other.”

“Sounds about right. You got a broken nose, Jim.”

Jim sighed, showing Leonard his blood covered hand. “I couldn’t guess.”

“You’re lucky,” He continued, falling into business mode and pulling out a few tissues from his other pocket, handing it to Jim, “No concussions, thankfully. No dizziness, nausea, any pain in your head?”

“Nope, just my nose. Look, I’m fine, Bones.”

“You’ll be fine after I set your nose and use the bone-setter for a few minutes, but certainly not now.”

Jim threw him a sarcastic thanks, but the look that his captain sent him told Leonard that he was indeed grateful.

Leonard, knowing that there was nothing he could do for Jim now, scooted awkwardly over to Chekov, who was talking to Uhura, his hands moving animatedly. From the way his hands slammed together, McCoy had no doubt that he was explaining what happened to them, yet he sounded excited about it, unlike Spock.

“He’s fully aware? No slurring?” He asked Nyota, waving the tricorder near Chekov, and she nodded. 

“Everything appears normal. No pupil dilation or dizziness, either.”

“Pavel? Any nausea?”

“No, Doctor. I feel quite well, actually!”

“Of course you do, can anyone bring your mood down, kid?” Pavel opened his mouth to reply, but Leonard held up his free hand. “You don’t need to answer that. You don’t have a concussion either, thankfully, but you’re going to have one big headache in the morning. Hikaru, are you okay?”

“Fine, sir.”

“We are sorry, Doctor.” Pavel said, sombering up real fast, looking at Leonard with those puppy eyes he had, “We did not mean to get hurt.”

He sighed. “I know. I just hate when you guys do.”

“See, what did I tell you?” Jim said, pointing to McCoy. “Bones is just a good ol’ softy!”

“Oh, youー”

He tried to get up, but his feet slipped out from under him once again, and he crashed to the ice, dropping the tricorder in the process. Sulu glided over to him, picked up the tricorder, and lifted Leonard up by his arms with ease, despite Leonard being taller than him. 

Uhura was by his side with the hockey stick soon after, and Leonard took it with a sigh. 

“Can this day be over already?”

Jim got to his feet easily, still holding his nose, and nodded. “Yeah, I’d be fine with that. Let’s get back to the Enterprise and get some hot chocolate or something.”

Hikaru shrugged, not disagreeing with the proposal, and for that Leonard was grateful. He helped McCoy to the edge of the ice, where Leonard stepped back onto the snow, sighing with relief. He kept a steady eye on Jim and Pavel, both of whom seemed okay, and got his skates off as quickly as he could, thankful to be back in his steady, flat boots. After everyone was able to take off their skates, Leonard gently grabbed Jim before the transporter beamed them aboard, knowing that Jim would run from him and treatment as soon as they rematerialized. 

He closed his eyes, and opened them on the Enterprise, quickly leading Jim and Pavel to the Medbay, ignoring the soreness in his knees. Pavel began talking about the adventures he had ice skating in Russia, and Jim listened intently as they walked, up until the doors to Medbay opened and Nurse Chapel took Pavel to a medical bed. 

“So, is there where you tell me ‘I told you so?’” Jim asked, and Leonard shook his head. 

“Nah. Something already tells me you know that.”

“But, I did tell you so.”

“What?”

Jim grinned, his nose still sluggishly bleeding out. It was a sight that would be unnerving, if not for how often Jim smiled when he was hurt. Now it was just a regular look on him, one that Leonard hated.

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you, Bones?”

McCoy scowled. “No.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t.”

“You have a horrible poker face.”

“Are you out of your corn-fed mind? I do not! I have an amazing poker face!”

Leonard, like before, knew that Jim could see through him like glass. He hated to admit to himself that he liked skating, if only a little bit and only when he got used to it. It was fun, he could see it as something he did when the occasion arose, if only after a bit more practice. He would have to implement more rules, too, like no playing tag. 

But, he would never admit to liking the event to anyone else, even Jim, who would never let him live it down. So he could continue to deny it, no matter what, even if Jim already knew it. Leonard learned soon after meeting Jim Kirk, that was just how they were, and there was no use fighting it. 

#long post #star trek #star trek aos #star trek alternate original series #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ice skating #leonard mccoy #bones mccoy #leonard mccoy fanfiction #jim kirk #james t kirk #spock #winter fics #fluff #star trek aos fanfiction #jim kirk and bones friendship

[pummedraws]

I know that fics aren't shared much on here, but I wanted to post about it anyways: I started to write drabbles for my new (very old) rarepair obsession... okay, it's one (1) drabble So far. But maybe I'll write more, we'll see. And I plan to post them in one fic, each drabble separated by chapters.

So in case you are interested, here are the tags:

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: M/M Fandom: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies) Relationship: Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Khan Noonien Singh Characters: Khan Noonien Singh | John Harrison, Leonard "Bones" McCoy Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alien AU, Yes Khan is an Alien rather than an Augment in all of these drabbles unless otherwise specified, But it doesn't change much about him, It will just affect some of his abilities / skills / things he can do, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Not really explicit (yet), Bones calls Khan stupid names, They're happy and all of that, Could be so sweet that it's almost too much I'm sorry, Snarky Remarks, Attempt at Humor Language: English

#Star Trek #Star Trek AOS #Khones #Star Trek Fanfiction #Star Trek AOS Fanfiction #McKhan #(I think I need a new tag? PummeFics or whatever) #PummeFics #(lol)

[starseeker95]

Do not complain to me about how hard it is to navigate ao3 on mobile, young one. I hid under the bleachers and read Spirk fanfics on a BlackBerry during gym class. We are not the same.

#ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 stuff #ao3 writer #spirk #spirk fanfiction #tos spirk #aos spock #Star Trek #star trek 2009 #yup #blackberry #my first fic experience #was spirk of course #I stumbled into it on accident and have never left #how did you find ao3?

[mothdogsart]

Today I finally finished the fanbinding project I started back in October 😅

This is a fanbind of Atlas, my favorite ever Spirk fanfiction and a loving portrait of the mote of sunlight that is AOS Jim Kirk. This fic was written by @distractedkat and can be read on AO3 (Tumblr isn’t letting me add a link on mobile.)

The text block was kettle-stitched and typeset completely from scratch in Word, and the dust jacket was designed in Canva Pro. I realized I forgot to take a picture without the dust jacket, but it’s cloth bound in a navy linen bookcloth from Amazon.

I’m really proud of how tightly this bind came out compared to my wonky first attempt! Now my partner and I can reread this amazing story in physical format for years to come 🥰

#spirk #fanbinding #fan binding #bookbinding #Star Trek #Star Trek aos #aos spirk #Jim kirk #james t kirk #captain kirk #Spock #commander spock #spirk fanfiction #spirk fanart #spirk fic #spock/kirk #text

[thylabang]

Calling all artists and writers! Have you always wanted to create some Spirk themed vacation shenanigans? Join this year's Shore Leave! T'hy'la Reverse Bang!

Sign-ups begin Monday, February 26 2024 with posting in June! Check out our comprehensive notion page for FAQs, Rules, and detailed schedule.

#t'hy'la bang 2024 #t'hy'la bang #spirk #space husbands #fanart #fanfiction #star trek: tos #star trek: aos #star trek: strange new worlds #spock #james t. kirk #kirk x spock #signal boost #reverse bang

[trekkie2819]

Spock: All emotions can be controlled. Sadness is a trick of the mind. I am in total control. I'm in control of my emotions.

The rest of the Bridge: .......

Kirk: Are you crying?

#spirk #star trek #spock #james t kirk #kirk x spock #st: tos #star trek tos #dr mccoy #tos spirk #spirk fanfiction #star trek spirk #tos #star trek aos #aos

[c4t1l1n4]

There’s something about AOS Spock going feral in Into Darkness after watching Kirk die from the warp core.

…any fic recs?

#star trek #star trek aos #into darkness #spirk #star trek spirk #spock/kirk #spock #james t kirk #fanfiction #fic rec

[lamelycool]

𝐵𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑡ℎ 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑀𝑒 (𝑆𝑝𝑜𝑐𝑘 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)

"I'm sorry... This is all my fault I should've payed more attention I should have... I don't know I just wish-"

"There is nothing you could have done to change this. It is not your fault." Spock calmy states.

You begin to notice the slight shiver in his voice, and the growing green tint to his skin that's increasing along side the dropping temperature. It really concerns you. The cold must be getting to him. Gods, all of this because of a shuttle crash. The two of you were luckily this planet happened to be inhabitable. Well Inhabitable... but unpleasantly freezing. There's no telling how cold it must feel for Spock with his Vulcan heritage.

"T'hy'la are you alright?" Spock asks breaking your train of thought.

"Sorry, I just... I just feel useless. Sitting here freezing just waiting for the Enterprise to rescue us. If they even rescue us."

"The Enterprise will likely rescue us do not worry. " The unspoken question of when is avoided. There's not telling how long it will take. Hours, days, or worse... The two of you go silent.

"Are you cold? " You eventually speak up.

"I am adequate. "

"Spock, please don't lie... "

"Vulcans do not li-" you cut him off by reaching out a hand placing it against Spock's cheek. You gasp jolting your hand back.

"You are freezing cold! Why didn't you tell me?!" You panic and quickly shed your emergency blanket wrapping it around Spock.

"I did not want to tell you, I do not want to worry you. Please...keep your blanket you need it." Spock shivers out.

"Spock... please let me warm you? "

Spock paused then reluctantly nods. He uncovers himself holding his arms out for you to crawl into. Seems he already knew what you were planing. You snuggle up into him and cradle him close.

"May I touch your hands? "

"You always may. "

"Thank you... " you take his hands in yours gently holding them and rubbing them. Then you breathe warm air on them, breathing warmth into him like you always manage to do.

#star trek #oneshot #fanfic #comfort #fluff #hurt/comfort #spock #spock imagine #spock x reader #tos star trek #aos star trek #reader #reader insert #mr spock #commander spock #star trek movies #star trek fanfiction #alien x reader

[remusmoonshinezine]

okay but can we set up a fanfic author appreciation day (if there isn't one already) because there are so many of y'all out there who put your absolute heart and soul into your works and it's honestly incredible

#spirk #spock #star trek #kirk #this is my logic #aos #jim kirk #soulmates #spirk fanfic #all fanfiction #this doesn't have to stay in my little corner of the internet this is for everyone #merthur #fanfic #fanfic authors #fic author appreciation #destiel #drarry #they deserved so much better #sope #solangelo #buddie

[wanderingjedihistorian]

Chapters: 9/11 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: James T. Kirk, Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Spock (Star Trek), Nyota Uhura, Crew of the Starship Enterprise, Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody, Ghost Company Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars), 212th Attack Battalion Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars) Additional Tags: Space Anomalies, Inter-universe travel, Banter, Mission Fic, Finding a way home, Jim is a Little Shit, Leonard McCoy is so done, obi-wan kenobi is a nerd, Cody despairs of it sometimes but he loves his idiot Jedi anyway, A great time is had by all, Leonard McCoy is good at what he does and that's a problem for a Sith Lord in another universe, tags will be added as this is updated, IFDChallenge2023, International Fanworks Day 2023, Both crews have been through some things, Bones finds the chips and does not like the math, Obi-Wan has a bad feeling about this, Stubborn CC-2224 | Cody, Frank discussion of the less than stellar parts of the Republics policies Series: Part 1 of Live Long and May The Force Be With You

Chapter summary: The crews get more answers and they start to plan.

#my writing #star wars fanfiction #star trek aos fanfiction #codywan #mckirk #st/sw crossover

[taska-rokanh]

Befriending Spock Headcanons

My first Star Trek content! Spock is my favorite character by far and I feel like he needs some love. A lot of my Star Trek content will be romantic, but I feel like especially with Spock, it's necessary to explore the first steps of just becoming friends, because it's harder to break down his walls and he's not one to just act on attraction at first sight.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.1 k

- People have very different, often very polarizing opinions on Commander Spock. You'd heard more than enough stories about how cold, calculating, unforgiving, and inhuman he was. 

- But when you met him, all you could think was that he was so cool.

- He was incredibly intelligent, capable of making smart and informed decisions regarding basically any situation that affected the ship in minutes, and always acted with absolute certainty. Despite that, he did not want a command of his own and readily accepted his own mistakes, readjusting accordingly. What was there not to admire?

- You tried your best to be friendly, but you knew it was a long shot. Not only was he a Vulcan, he was your commanding officer. You weren't sure how he regarded any sort of personal relationship, really.

- Still, you found yourself engaging him in light conversation in the halls, the mess hall, or the lift. You broke it off quickly if it didn't seem like he wanted to talk, which surprisingly was very infrequent. If you got him talking about science, or the history and philosophy of Vulcan, it was quite easy to get him to talk.

- Spock is... I'm not sure how he would describe it, but I suppose, pleasantly surprised to find someone that not only tolerates his discussion of such topics, but actively pursues them.

- Whether you know it or not, you've chosen the most effective method of breaking the ice.

- Spock encourages this by consulting you on data that is outside of the normal scope of your duties as often as possible. He enjoys being challenged, and surmises that you must, as well. You have a natural curiosity and a scientific mind, one that with proper training could even attain his level of authority in time. These discussions don't feel like replacement training sessions so much as informal academic chatter, though.

- Spock starts to show that he considers you a friend through verbal encouragement first. It's often very dry and hard to detect, but it's there.

- He once corrected you regarding a postulation you'd made when analyzing some data that was adjacent to your field. You said, "Oh, right, that makes more sense. Sorry, I'm a little stupid sometimes," out of habit, something that you knew you should probably grow out of.

- He looked at you, perplexed. "Ensign, you should not insult yourself for being unaware of a highly specialized piece of information that allowed me to see the facts in this particular light. Every scientist, no matter how intelligent, has their blind spots."

- You smiled at his encouragement before raising your eyebrow in doubt. "Even you?"

- Spock hesitated for a moment before considering his ineptitude in handling his friendship with his captain and now, it appeared, you as well. "Of course."

- You didn't believe him, but thought it was sweet of him to say so. "Thanks, Commander."

- "You may call me Mr. Spock, or Spock, if you prefer."

- "Sure thing, Mr. Spock."

- The Mr. gets dropped shortly after.

- Every smile you manage to get out of him is an absolute treasure, as it is very rare. Something tells me that the first smile he gives you would be in a situation in which you are distressed and he is trying to reassure you, perhaps he sustained a nasty injury and you are very concerned. The smile is fleeting and feels a little unnatural, but the effort he put into it was enough to convince you that he would recover. little did you know there was little effort expended--seeing your care for him, it was almost irresistible.

- Every smile you give him is treasured by him, though they are so much more frequent. It is true that humans smile with so little provocation, but it's still nice to know sometimes that he's the reason and not the butt of some joke (looking at you, Kirk and Bones)

- There are two facts about Vulcans that are very relevant to this situation: 1) Vulcans are touch telepaths, meaning that touch is very, incredibly personal and reserved for special situations (except for Sarek and Amanda cuz they're whores), and 2) Vulcans are, in fact, very emotional people.

- Keeping these facts in mind, there must be some way for Spock to express his feelings of appreciation and camaraderie for you, and it cannot be in the average human manner (handshakes, pats on the back, high fives)

- So instead, he takes a more vested interest in your wellbeing, asking if you've eaten, drank water, slept, etc. especially when you've come back from an away mission and are busy analyzing new data.

- You often seem to find each other following each of the Enterprise's adventures. These are often time-sensitive and life-threatening, and as a low-ranking science officer, often your only orders are to stay put and protect yourself. 

- The first time or two after you've become friends, you try to hide how shaken you are--you know you're fine, really. You just can't help that your reaction to coming down off the adrenaline high is to literally shake and sometimes cry a bit.

- However, Spock sees through what you're trying to do and reassures you that you are safe. "I know."

- "I intended to convey that you are safe to express any emotions you may currently be experiencing."

- Oh.

- You usually end up sitting with Spock somewhere, your quarters, your lab, the mess hall, the holodeck, shaking and crying before recovering after a bit. The emotional expression always makes Spock a bit uncomfortable--not because he's disgusted by it, but because he doesn't have/doesn't feel comfortable expressing the skills or the emotional intelligence needed to interact with them. 

- His simply being there is enough. You recover in 15 minutes or so and can carry on as before.

- "Have you considered consulting Dr. McCoy regarding the management of your anxiety surrounding these events? They seem to cause you a high degree of stress."

- You shrugged. "It's just my body's response, it doesn't bother me," you reassured him. "Besides, I've got you."

- The feeling of being needed in a way not associated with his intelligence or his duty was unexpectedly welcome.

- In time, he comes to take a more active role, bringing you food and water while you're working or offering to make a bit of progress on your work while you take a short rest--Vulcans don't require as much sleep as humans, after all.

- After a while of this, you mention to him that you feel that you could be a more proactive friend, when he takes so much time and effort to look out for you, and ask him what you could do.

- He looks at you, perplexed. "Your presence in my life is quite sufficient," he assures you. "Your companionship proves to be a gratifying part of my daily routine in any measure."

- He has no idea how sweet he can be.

#star trek #star trek tos #star trek aos #star trek the original series #star trek fanfiction #star trek headcanons #star trek spock #spock tos #spock aos #spock x reader #platonic spock

[sprite-writes]

failed romantics

Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Reader (original female character)

Summary: Secrets can’t be kept forever, and what better time to reveal them than the Enterprise night shift.

Word Count: 5,902

A/N: yay another chapter!! I have been so excited to write this one since I started this series, I hope you all like it. As always very special thanks to @lightning-writes without them these chapters would literally never get finished LOL immediately after finishing this plz go check out their bucky series; good heart (faulty machine of a man) it kills me in the best way. anyways, thank you for reading plz like + comment if you enjoyed :)

Leonard can only barely make out Kirk’s face under the dim bulb, but he is pissed enough that Jim’s mug is the last thing he wants to see. The music is loud, so goddamn loud , loud enough that the whiskey did nothing for his headache. 

“This is not what I had in mind when you said you knew a place,” he yells over the music, staring down the side of Kirk's face. 

“What?” the captain calls back, still oblivious to Leonard's scowl. Kirk is absent, completely distracted by the crowd, more specifically the women . His gaze filters from person to person as they pass by the table, a dumb smile on his face the entire time. If steam could come out of Leonard’s ears, it would. 

“I said this isn't what I had in mind for tonight.” He reaches across the table and firmly flicks his friend’s temple. 

“Hey! What's your problem?” Kirk whines. Leonard is satisfied to have gotten his attention—finally. 

“You said you knew a nice place– you said it was a bar!” 

“Yeah and? This is both of those things!” 

“This is a goddamned petri dish!” 

It is. Leonard has refused to even allow his bare skin to touch the tabletop, weary of the unknown sticky substances covering it. There are so many bodies— human and otherwise— packed into the space, it's suffocating, and certainly a fire hazard. It's gross, downright unsanitary, and fucking loud.  

“You’re dramatic, Bones, it's nice enough. Loosen up! Maybe try to meet somebody. We’re only in Yorktown for a day, y’know?” 

Tipsy Kirk is a fucking idiot. 

Leonard recoils at the idea. The captain has gained this…habit lately. This advice-giving habit where he tells Leonard to relax, to get out there, to get laid, and every time it passes through Kirk's lips, Leonard becomes nauseous. He abhors this subject, he really does. The only thing he hates talking about more than his dating life is why he doesn’t have one. Sure, he hasn't had much of one since the divorce anyway, but whatever he did have quickly reduced to nothing after meeting Sunshine. He feels so childish even mulling his thoughts over, and how it feels pointless to consider any other woman interesting since he has already met Sunshine, who is the most interesting. Interesting and pretty. Interesting and pretty and kind. He shakes his head before he starts down his mental list (again). Somedays, it feels like his feelings will swallow him whole. It has been so long since he felt it, the wanting . Wanting to talk to her all the time, or hold her hand, or just be around her. It all makes him feel so juvenile, like he’s a lovesick teenager. She makes him feel like a lovesick teenager. It is the single most frustrating thing he’d ever experienced.

“I don't wanna associate with anyone who willingly steps foot inside this shithole,” he snaps, “C’mon man, let's go.” Kirk protests, of course, even more so as Leonard grabs him by the ear and pulls him up from the chair. He tells himself he’s doing Kirk a favor, that the last thing he needs is a hookup— that he’s certainly not taking out his frustrations on his friend. 

The pair weave through the bodies, with Kirk stumbling after his friend and out the door. The cool breeze hits them like a breath of fresh air, and Leonard takes it in. Kirk, on the other hand, furiously rubs his reddened ear. 

“What the hell was that for? Are you out to get me tonight?” 

Leonard feels a quick pang of sympathy, regretting lashing out. 

“Look, I’m sorry, but that place had me sweating like a damn sinner in church, there’s other bars, and it's getting late anyways–”

Kirk would usually push it, and Leonard could tell he wants to, which makes him all the more thankful he doesn’t.  

“Fine, fine, whatever but we are drinking when we get back to the ship,” he settles, leading the way home. 

Yorktown is cold and downright industrial. Leonard hates it. He would usually be thankful for a pit stop if it means he can feel non-artificial gravity, but, between the dirty club and Kirk’s antagonizing, he’s ready to be spacebound again. Both the Enterprise and the USS Endeavor are in Yorktown for the night, in the process of a personnel transfer. The streets are crawling with Starfleet members.

They walk in silence for most of the way, observing the larger-than-life city and the star crafts buzzing overhead. Leonard would be lying if he said he doesn’t feel a bit empty.  Perhaps the low-lit, music-blaring monstrosity would have felt more tolerable if a certain lieutenant was with him and not stuck with the enterprise night crew. 

“You know, I wouldn’t have even known that place existed if it wasn’t for Sunny,” Kirk laughs. Leonard scrunches his nose. 

“She recommended that barnyard?” he scoffs. 

“Oh god no, she told me to stay away from it. Said it was the grimiest place on this side of the universe. I just thought it sounded like a good time, y’know?” 

Leonard stares, really stares, and wonders why he keeps expecting better of Kirk. 

“You’re an idiot, and an ass. The woman gives you stellar advice, and you ignore it, and stick her with the skeleton crew.” 

Kirk stops so abruptly, that Leonard stumbles over him. 

“ I didn’t put her on the skeleton crew, she requested to be. You think I would make her work more than she already does? I’m not a tyrant, Bones.” 

What?  

“What?” Leonard says out loud. “Why would she ask to be holed up on the enterprise all leave?” 

“I mean, I would too if the alternative was running into my ex and all his coworkers.” 

Kirk laughs, Leonard’s head spins. 

“Her ex?” 

“Yeah her— she didn’t tell you any of this?” 

“She said she wanted Jameson to oversee the transfer, give him more experience or something, so you put her on his night shift.” 

“No? She wanted Jameson to do it because she used to be engaged to the Endeavors head of security.” 

Leonard blinks. And blinks again. 

“Dude, I don’t even know how to change the schedule,” Kirk adds. 

 Suddenly, despite talking to her everyday for close to a year, she feels unfamiliar. Engaged? He can hardly imagine it, nor does he want to. Pictures of Sunshine flash through his mind, and he clenches his fist. 

“Didn’t know she had been engaged,” he feigns a casual tone.

Kirk furrows his brows. 

“ You didn’t know? You of all people?” Leonard shrugs, as his stomach forms a knot. “She tells you everything, and she’s never mentioned Ryder?”

“Christ, his name is Ryder ?”

“I know! Douchebag name, right?” 

He doesn’t respond for a beat, which turns into several beats. The gears in his head turn and turn. Engaged . He doesn’t understand why the idea eats at him. He himself had been married for years. So what if she was engaged? There is no reason for him to be upset that his friend—a coworker–had an ex. 

He feels nauseous. 

Kirk clears his throat, derailing Leonard's train of thought.

“You’re right, it’s late, we should head back,” he says, offering a reassuring smile. Leonard follows him, hands in his pockets.

“Do y’know what happened?” he asks finally. Kirk casts him a sideways glance.

“What, between them? Not a clue,” Kirk says with sincerity enough for Leonard to believe it. “She wasn’t really keen on discussing it.” He pauses and looks at the ground as they walk. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it though, Bones, I think everyone sees she’s only really got eyes for one person these days.” 

“Don't start, Jim,” Leonard warns hotly, clenching his jaw. 

“Start what? I’m not starting anything. I’m just laying out the facts.” Jim hiccups. “She adores you, man, like adores -”

“Sunshine ‘adores’ everyone she meets. We’re friends—good friends, but that's all.” His patience shrinks as his annoyance grows.

Jim laughs mirthlessly.

“No, Sunshine and I are good friends. Whatever you two are is something else entirely-” 

“Anyone ever tell you you don't know when to shut up?” His tone is as cold as the night air, and Jim shuts up.

Leonard wishes Kirk would drop the subject, trip over a rock, or whatever it took to never have this conversation again. Really—what he truly wants is for everyone to stop dangling this hope in front of his face like a carrot. He’s not an idiot, he knows he spends more time with the lieutenant than his colleagues, hears her laugh more often, and knows her habits better.

 He knows what it looks like. He also knows that he's a bitter emotionally closed-off divorcee— 

He tells Jim that Sunshine is his friend because she is—and he denies wanting anything more because It's stupid to want things out of his reach. 

Frustration heats his cheeks and begins to bloom into a headache. He knows Kirk means well, but that fact does little to comfort him. 

“Alright, I’ll drop it,” Kirk surrenders, his voice soft. “But there is one last thing you should know,” He pauses at the crosswalk and turns to Leonard. Eerily stoic, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Leonard's breath hitched. 

“Ryder’s got nothing on you in terms of looks, okay? Seriously he's like, 5’7, and his face isn't at all symmetrical-”

Leonard revs up and smacks Kirk in the back of the head harder than he ever had and feels no regret. Not even after Kirk's high-pitched “ Ouch!”

“Would you quit it! You gossip like a damn schoolgirl!”

The sign blinks at them to walk, and Leonard drags Kirk across the street, fingers digging into his arm. 

“Ow, ow, I was just saying-“

“Wait a minute,” Leonard lets his friend go and smooths down his sleeve. “How do you know what he looks like anyway?” 

Kirk puts himself at a safe distance from the Doctor, cradling his arm. “Well, the operations manager would usually talk to the department heads during a transfer, but Sunshine passed him off to me. I said no at first, obviously, because I hate managing, but then she finally told me she was almost Mrs. Ryder Denver. So yeah, I spoke with him a few times, just business. Have to say though, I couldn't imagine them together. He comes off as a bit of a douche.” 

Leonard breathes deeply, reigning in the emotions that he doesn’t need Kirk to pick up on. The idea of Sunshine being engaged does enough to unsettle him without knowing that the man in question “ came off as a douche” . He feels something boil under the surface. 

“Yeah?” is all he can strangle out. 

“Yeah—He’s like a classic douchey security buff,” Kirk continues, unaware of his friend's white knuckles. “You know the kind– uptight, condescending, has one earring and thinks it's edgy-”

“Wears their uniform a size too small? Yeah, I know the type.” 

“Exactly, and Sunshine is so…so-”

“Heart-of-gold?” 

“Yeah! Opposites attract I guess, but I don't know, something was off.” 

To Leonard, the entire thing is off. All of it. Everything . He doesn’t understand why Sunshine decided he doesn’t get to know, why it is a secret in the first place, why she almost married a douche, why he cares so damn much . 

The enterprise comes into view like the sun on the horizon, and Leonard is relieved . 

“Your arm’s all right?” Leonard asks, an apology without apologizing. Jim knows this and breathes a laugh. 

“Yup, the ear’s fine too.” 

The Doctor nods, but his eyes remain trained in front of him. Through the glass window panes, he eyes the ship, eager to hide away in the familiar place. He would have opened the door for Kirk, as a gesture, but of course, the Yorktown Federation Port has to have automatic doors. He huffs, and the artificial lights illuminate his red cheeks. They approach their home in silent tandem, their shoes clinking against the hard floors. 

“You should talk to her, Bones,” Kirk breaks the quiet, head down while he taps the access code to the enterprise hull. “Ask her why she didn't mention the ex. I’m sure she has a good reason, probably one you'll wanna hear.” 

Leonard wants to be mean. He wants to shake Kirk's words off with an insult and go to bed. But he swallows his pride, and it goes down like nails.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Hope. It bubbles up within his chest, and he pushes it down. Finally, the stark white enterprise interior greets him. He breathes a little easier. 

Kirk stumbles over the first step— “ Woah ”-- and Leonard steadies him with a raised eyebrow. “Andorian ale finally catching up with you?” 

“Pfft,” Kirk scoffs. “Couldn’t catch me if it tried.” 

Leonard pauses, then laughs, the first genuine one all night, and it has Kirk grinning back. 

The enterprise is empty, its residents still on the streets they just returned from. So, without restraint, they laugh, and Kirk stumbles, and Leonard forgets for a moment about the unsaid feelings under his skin. 

Kirk is an idiot, and he’s a good friend.  

He’s happy to banter about whatever comes out of Kirk's drunk mouth and to correct him when he takes a wrong turn in his own ship. Leonard claps his hand on his shoulder and drawls, “It’s this way, captain .”

“Uhh, no , Chekov keeps the good whiskey in his locker, this way,” Kirk insists with a point down the hallway, and Leonard is amazed at his eagerness to get blacked out the night before embarking. 

“Are you out of your mind? No way. You can drink like a fish when you don't need to fly a starship in the morning.” 

“What are you, my mom ?” 

Christ.

“No, but I pity the poor woman,” he huffs and gestures down the hallway leading to his quarters. Kirk frowns and scrunches his nose.

“Raincheck, Kirk, c’mon.” 

He begrudgingly obliges, having given his friend a hard enough time tonight anyway. The yawn that crawls out of his mouth a moment later corroborates Leonard's decision. He is tired, and Kirk shouldn't drink anymore, but he’d be lying if he said those were his only motives to end the night early.

“You win this one, Bones, but next time I swear we'll be out till sunrise,” he says between another yawn and a hiccup. 

“Uh-huh. Try not to trip.” Leonard reminds himself of the virtue of patience and keeps walking. 

Kirk manages to type in his room's access code all by himself, with only a moment of squinting, and a break to roll up the black sleeves of his turtleneck. Leonard is impressed, and the bar is low. 

“Drink a bottle of water, and get some sleep, We’ll talk tomorrow.” he crosses his arms over his chest and waits for protest. 

Kirk only hums. “You headed to your room?”

 The doctor's fingers drum against the doorframe. “Was thinking I’d check in on Sunshine,” he says, blinks, and rushes out, “and the rest of the Skeleton crew, of course.  Maybe medbay too, then I’ll hit the hay.” He fleetingly wonders if that sounds believable, or at least casual. 

 Kirk smiles a genuine smile. “Sounds like a good plan, Bones. See ya in the morning, and tell her I said hi .” Before he can react, his friend waves, and the door slides shut. Then, he’s alone in the hallways, and he has to put his money where his mouth is. 

Shit . 

The way to the bridge feels daunting now, like climbing Everest. Like climbing Everest with the shittiest rope ever. Like climbing Everest with the shittiest rope ever, several pounds of emotional baggage, and a Starfleet captain breathing down his neck.  He considers just going to bed, pretending he never even mentioned the whole thing. Maybe even pretend he doesn't care to get answers. He can just leave it be. 

The desire to see her trumps all of it. 

The halls are deserted, which he’s thankful for. He doesn’t need anyone around to watch him squirm in the elevator. A deep breath, a punch of the open elevator button and—

“I told you I don't have any threes! Go fish, again .” 

He sees the back of the captain's chair first, then Starfleet-issued black boots hanging off of it. The whoosh of the door draws the attention of the room to him. Eyes sweep through the vaguely familiar faces of the night crew, all six staring at him like they are waiting for an explanation, which he doesn’t really have. The heeled black boots plant themselves on the ground, the captain's seat swivels around. His heart works double time. 

“ Leonard ? Hi! What are you doing here?” 

Sunshine’s got a hand of cards between her pointer and her thumb, and a sweatshirt pulled over her uniform dress, and it distracts Leonard for longer than it should. He clears his throat, and it shakes loose the feelings stuck there. 

“Just thought I'd check in on our hard working night crew, who is surely on task.” He descends the bridge steps. 

“Well, then, you'll be happy to hear that I am, in fact, glancing at my station every 20 minutes, and I’m the undefeated go-fish champion.” 

She waves the cards at herself like a fan, legs crossed and smile wide. 

“Undefeated, huh? Glad to see your talents going to good use.” Her smile gets a bit brighter, and she does a quick breathy laugh with her nose. For a moment there's quiet, and Leonard begins scrambling for a way to ask her the thing he wants to ask her. The bridge is crowded, for a skeleton crew, he thinks. The redshirt to Sunshine’s left breaks the silence before he can. 

“I’m not sure if I’d call it talent…I’m pretty sure she's cheating,” they grumble, and Sunshine doesn't spare a moment, whipping the chair around. He can almost see the panic fill her eyes, like she’s just been accused of a heinous crime. 

“I’m not! Are you still thinking about that last round? Because that was—”  

Even Leonard winces a bit at her shrill tone, and he’s pretty sure she just woke the navigator who had fallen asleep at his station, so he claps his hands on her shoulders. 

“Sounds to me like this card game has you wound like a spring,” he interrupts her before her voice jostles anyone else awake. 

She pouts, lip jutted out and everything. 

“Let's go for a walk,” he suggests. He doesn’t even let his nerves talk him out of it. She looks at him curiously, her eyebrows drawn. 

“I dunno, I probably shouldn’t leave…” 

“I’m sure someone else can deal cards while you’re gone,” he tells her, already offering his arm. 

The Ensign, Leonard still doesn’t know their name, waves her off. “Go, Lieutenant, It's fine. I’m sure we can handle a few minutes without you.” 

She bites her lip and cautiously loops her arm around his, leaving the captain's chair to her subordinate. 

“Alright, but don’t start a new game without me,” she warns lightly. 

Leonard doesn’t get nervous with her arm looped around his, really he doesn’t. He’s headfirst into this thing now, no room for nerves. 

She drinks her whiskey neat, he learns, and it surprises him. Surprises him even more when she downs it like a shot. 

The walk there had been quiet mostly, except for when Sunshine regaled the stories of her card game wins. 

“Did you have a nice time with Kirk?” she asks politely.

“I dunno if I’d say that, but maybe Jim would disagree.” 

She laughs lightly, and her finger traces the lip of the whiskey glass. He doesn’t know if it’s the best idea, but he refills her cup. 

There is a beat of silence, and the conversation with Kirk pushes to the front of his thoughts. There's a heaviness on the tip of his tongue, the desire to ask why . Without really knowing how to. 

“Wish I could’ve gone with you guys,” she says, her gaze downcast. There's a rare melancholy to her tone, something vulnerable woven into it. 

“You could’ve,” he tells her, and her eyes pull from the table.

“I had--”

“Yeah, I know what you– I just mean–I’m sure Kirk would have given you the night off if you asked… God knows he owes you enough favors.” 

“I guess,” she shrugs, “it wasn’t really the best night for it, though.” 

He could go along with her lame excuse, vaguely agreeing that, yeah, there will be other nights. But the ache to know what exactly goes on in her pretty head has words tumbling out of his mouth. 

“Yeah, Kirk mentioned somethin’ like that,” he mumbles, nerves permeating the sentence. 

“...what?” 

Shit.

“I mean, he may have-”

“What exactly did he mention?” Her tone holds a sharp undercurrent of something rare for Sunshine– anger.

Leonard runs a hand down his face, suddenly thinking of all the much more tactful ways he could have begun this. The gentle buzz of alcohol still in his bloodstream keeps him from panicking. 

“Nothing terrible, just that there was someone in town you wouldn’t wanna see.”

“As if ,” she scoffs. “Kirk’s never been that vague in his life.” 

“…fair enough.” 

She groans miserably, fitfully pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her hands and burying her face in the fabric. 

“You were not supposed to find out like this,” she says, muffled. 

“And how was I supposed to find out?” He asks quietly, like the question will frighten her away. 

A sniffle comes from behind her hands–the sound tugs at his heart. 

“ I don't know. Maybe someone could have told you when I’m dead and then we’d never have to have this conversation.” 

He reaches for her slowly, taking her wrists in a gentle hold and pulling them away from her face, revealing her reddened nose and watery eyes. Her hands are cold, and grow stiff under his touch. 

“Sunshine. It's an ex , not a damn intergalactic scandal. There are worse conversations to have,” he reasons. 

“You don't get it,” she tells him matter-of-factly, pulling her hands from his touch. Embarrassment quickly heats his body, and he wipes his palms on his pants. 

“I’d get it a lot more if you talked about it.” He flexes his jaw, frustration bleeding into his voice. 

She narrows her eyes, punctuating her glare with a sniffle. 

“If I wanted to talk about it, I would’ve.”

“With Kirk? Because he seems to get it.” 

“Why are you acting so—”

“Concerned? Oh, I dunno because you’re my friend?” Exasperation colors his tone.

“I was gonna say entitled,” she grits out. Her anger comes out half-heartedly, sounding more like watery sadness than anything. “I don't tell you everything, and I don't have to. You’re not my-” She sighs. “Why does it matter? I was engaged for like, a year, and now, I’m not.” 

You’re not my–

Her half sentence sticks in his mind and sends blood rushing to his head. He thinks of all the things that he is to her: a colleague, a doctor, a friend. All the things he isn’t feels like a gaping hole. 

He watches her clench her fists and force her tears back. 

“It matters because it upsets you enough to work the night shift,” he sighs, the anger he’s been holding seeps out of his hands like water. “I’m not pressing you for the latest gossip, Sunny. I’m asking because it would be lousy of me not to.” 

She says nothing, taking in his words. 

“I’m no stranger to this stuff, y’know,” he prods her gently. “My ex-wife sent me running all the way to space .” He says lightly, and the corners of her mouth twitch up briefly.

“He didn't send me running, I sent him,” she confesses, shaking her head. 

“ You ?” 

“Me. The thing is,” she shrugs, “it should have worked, y’know? Like on paper, it was perfect. Ryder and I were academy sweethearts, liked all the same shit, were top of our classes, blah, blah, blah.” She rolls her eyes. “Our friends used to tease us, say that it wasn't fair, and we were too in love.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” she says, sighing. Her eyes drift nowhere in particular. “It didn’t feel nice after a while though. It felt suffocating. I was half a person with him, we were Ryder and Sunshine–and that was one entity.” Her tears dry on her lashes, as she becomes entrenched in the memory. 

“But the person we were wasn’t me . Because he never thought my jokes were funny, or my hobbies were interesting or my friends were cool, so I was willing to throw them all out. Eventually all that was left was him. His ideas, his wants, his needs. I was backed into a corner. I should’ve left when I realized but I loved him… and I was really scared of being alone.” 

She pushes her hair behind her ears and lets out a shaky breath. 

“I was a coward, and I couldn’t leave. I wanted to try and fix it, figure out who I was, and then maybe Ryder could love that person,” She shakes her head. “I was naive. Ryder always wanted someone I couldn’t be. Someone quieter or someone better at being a person. I’m always so all over the place you know? Too much for him.”

“You’re not–”

“It's okay, Len, you don't have to say anything.” she says, meeting his eyes again, taming the budding fire in his heart. 

The idea of Sunshine being anything but completely herself unnerves him. Her jokes are funny, he can’t recall ever laughing as much before she boarded the enterprise. Her ramblings about xenobotany and classic earth songs never fail to catch his attention, even when he barely knows what she's talking about. Being around Sunshine is as easy as breathing, and he’s starting to need it as much too. 

“Anyways, he proposed our senior year, like we weren’t a sinking ship, and I said yes and pretended like the ring wasn’t a last-ditch attempt to bring us back to life.” 

Her teeth sink into her lip, her eyes dragging to her lap.

“I don't know what it was, but one night I just…broke. I couldn’t keep pretending to be someone I wasn’t, or beg to be loved.”

A few tears slide down her cheeks, she scrubs them away with her sleeve.

Leonard wants to tell her that she should never have to beg for anything in the first place, least of all love; he wants to tell her that she's worthy just the way she is. His fingers twitch with the desire to take her by the shoulders and tell her over and over that she’s perfect, that she couldn’t be too much if she tried. Sunshine has always had a magnetic pull to her, drawing in everyone she meets with her warmth. The idea of anyone taking that away from her pulls his heartstrings tight enough to snap. He holds back his anger, refraining from telling her that Ryder is an asshole who didn’t deserve a second of her time. 

The wiser part of him knows that's not what he needs.

“We had planned to be on the USS Endeavor together, but I rescinded my application. I signed up to do on-planet research instead. I wrote a long letter, left it on our bed, packed up my things, and left.” 

She coughs in a way that he knows is covering up a sob and takes a deep breath. The sound sends a pang of emotion through him.

“It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. We were engaged, for Christ's sake, and I couldn’t even look him in the eye when I left him. And don’t even get me started on the fallout. We had all the same friends, and our families were so close… it was all so humiliating . Everyone expected us to live happily ever after, and then, there I was, giving him back his ring in a coffee shop.”  

She knocks back the rest of her drink, like a consolation prize for getting all the words out. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Len. I never wanted you to think of me like that, as someone who would do that.” 

“ Sweetheart ,” he says like a plea, calling her attention. “No one in their right mind would think differently of you for leaving something that wasn’t good for you– or at least they shouldn’t.” 

She's shaking her head before he finishes his sentence. 

“But I–”

“I know. You didn’t go about it the way you maybe should’ve– or the way you wanted to. It doesn’t make you a bad person, it doesn’t make you any less… good.”

She hiccups, her chest rising and falling rapidly as another stream of tears drips down her cheeks. He can't help himself – and even if he could, he doesn’t want to – he brings both hands to her cheeks, wiping away the salty tears. 

“It's alright,” he says gently, swiping his thumb under her eye again. “You’re alright.”

She nods, breaths finally evening out, and his hands reluctantly fall back onto his lap. 

He remembers well the storm of feelings his divorce left him with. The gulit, the lonliness, feeling like the world was ending. 

“I get it, y’know. The shitty relationship, becoming somebody you don't wanna be,” the barstool squeaks as he leans on the counter. He hasn't talked about his marriage since he told the story to Kirk years ago. It feels odd to tell it again. 

“My ex and I met in college, fell head over heels, and I proposed a year later. I thought… well, we both thought we were soulmates. There was this connection between us that I’d never felt before, and I thought this must be it.” 

“After a year ?” she gawks. He casts her a sideways glance and chuckles. 

“A perfect year, mind you. Not a single disagreement, not a bad date– every day was straight out of a damn love story or something. Until we got hitched, that is. Then it was all disagreements.”

 He anxiously taps a rhythm on the bar top. The memory still burns him now, of the fiery conflict, of the sleepless nights. 

“We were the same in all the worst ways, stubborn, headstrong, prideful. We couldn't settle an argument to save our lives. It probably didn't help that I was in the middle of residency and pulling 100-hour weeks. It was miserable. I hardly recognized myself… I know I don’t have the best temper, but I never wanted to be an angry person.” 

He lets out a slow breath, “I was mad as hell when she called it quits, said a lot of stuff I regret. But she was right to do it. We brought out the worst in each other, I was just too narrow-minded to see it. All this to say, I’m sure I would have taken the night shift to avoid her too.” 

Sunshine rests a comforting hand on his shoulder, her thumb pressing circles into the muscle. 

“I’m sorry, Len.”

He leans into her touch without thinking about it. “These things happen,” he tells her decidedly. “When something’s not right, there's nothing you can do to change that. You do the best you can with where you’re at, that's all.” He pictures himself, young and full of fire, holding onto something that had already slipped away. “Which you did, Sunshine. I know it’s hard to see now, but I promise it gets easier.”

When he drags his gaze from the mahogany bar top back to Sunshine, she's watching him curiously. 

“What am I supposed to see?”

“That you were young, and scared, and you did what you needed to for yourself. Even if it's not shit you’re proud of, it makes you who you are. You learn, and it makes you better.” 

She says nothing, silently considering his words for several moments. “Well, it better get easier soon, because it sucks .” 

He chuckles, “That it does.” 

 She reaches right past him and grabs the half-empty bottle of whiskey.

“We should toast,” she says, the melancholy in her voice fading away, probably tucked back behind a wall. “To failed marriages.” 

She’s already refilling their glasses and lifting hers to bump with his. 

“Thought you ducked out on the whole wedding thing?” he teases. 

“Fine then, to failed romantics,” she impatiently shakes the ice in her glass, “Just do it.” 

He knocks his glass with hers and agrees, “To failed romantics, and night shifts, and all the other shitty stuff.”

Her face pinches as she finishes her drink. Gingerly, she takes both of their glasses and stacks them behind the bar. 

Like ripping a bandage off and letting the wound breathe, Leonard feels lighter. As Sunshine hops off the bar stool and straightens her uniform skirt, he can see on her face that she does too. 

“Thank you for the drink, and the talk, Len,” she says, and he waves her off. 

“Don't mention it.” 

“ Totally gonna mention it,” she grins, “and when the schedule suddenly gives you two days off in a row, you’ll know why.” 

He laughs, and shakes his head, “I don’t think that's allowed, Lieutenant.” 

“I have my ways,” she says innocently, as she saunters to the door. 

He watches her go, everything she’s told him still buzzing in his head. He can hardly make sense of everything he’s feeling at once, but there's one thought that sticks out among the rest, that sits on his chest, demanding to be heard. 

“Sunshine?” he calls before she’s gone, giving into his relentless mind.

“Yeah?”

When she turns around, he’s flooded with everything he’s ever wanted to tell her. How she has seeped into every part of his life since he met her, despite his once armored heart. How she doesn’t see it, but she's changed the entire atmosphere of the bridge, pouring life into it with her energy. How she's taught him how to be a better friend, a better man, even a better doctor. How she’s not too much, she's everything. 

 “You should know, you’re never too much, that's ridiculous. Anyone on this ship would agree in a heartbeat. Don’t know what I’d– what we’d do without you,” he rushes out. “I hope you never think you need to be anything other than who you are.”

She goes still in the door frame and observes him for a moment. He flounders in her silence, wondering if he should have just kept his mouth shut. She suddenly moves from the doorway, quickly striding towards him, the sound of her boots clacking on the floor. He has no time to react before she gently places her hand on his chest. She wastes no time, leaning down and pressing a warm kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you,” she says meaningfully, searching his eyes for a brief moment before she turns heel again. She’s out the door without him even mustering up a word to say. 

His skin heats where her lips had touched him, a crackling feeling left in their place. He lifts his fingers to the skin, ghosting over the sticky remnants of her lipgloss. 

He sits, dumbfounded, knowing he’s gone somewhere there's no coming back from.     

#guys new chapter whaaattt #theyre so close to kissing I swear #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy x you #bones x reader #leonard bones mccoy #star trek imagine #star trek alternate original series #star trek #on a cloudy day #leonard mccoy #james t kirk #star trek aos #star trek fanfiction #karl urban #chris pine

[startrekbookshop]

Hello there Trekkies!

The new episode of Star Trek Bookshop is out!!!!

Come and check out the interesting differences between the Amok Time, and the same epiosdes novelization from the Star Trek classic episodes volume 2, by Bantam books.

Edit created by @crystal-mouse

Cannot wait to share these interesting facts with you.

Yes after the ending scene I had a 5 minute long crying session.

Anyway, Love U

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