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kathierif_ficTitle: Harmless
Author: Kathie
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Disclaimer: Not mine, not true, blah.
Rating: FRT-13
Pairing: none
Summary: "It's Earth, Spock - what can happen?" Jim had said, and Spock remembered these words as he sat in the waiting area of a small Georgia hospital and waited.
Warnings: AU
Word Count: 1160
A/Ns: written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
au_bingo prompt hospital. Title from the Hitchhiker's Guide, of course.
“Come on, Spock,” Jim had said with a cajoling grin that hadn’t done anything to Spock’s Vulcan self-control, no matter how hard Jim tried and no matter how often he did so, “It’s Earth. Probably the most boring planet in the history of boredom. Completely harmless. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen there?”
Spock had thought about Jim’s words, and after careful application of several filtering algorithms he’d developed since he’d met Cadet James Tiberius Kirk at the Starfleet Academy and had taken the young man under his tutelage – “his wing” as Captain Pike had said with a grin; Spock had checked himself carefully with the aid of a mirror and had, not surprisingly, confirmed that he had not grown additional appendages enabling him to fly – and had determined that Earth was, indeed, a relatively safe planet.
After agreeing with Jim’s initial assessment, albeit cautiously, there had been no logical reason for Spock to refuse joining his best friend on his shore leave. The only living family he still had was his father, and Sarek was busy with the development of the new Vulcan settlement. It would be highly illogical to request of Sarek to spend time away from his important task simply for the sake of sentimental reasons.
Before he’d known what was happening to him, Spock had been dragged to Earth by a very determined Jim Kirk who simply wouldn’t take no for an answer – not that Spock had tried very hard – and who was determined to have a good time, no matter the cost.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him that their shore leave was not as uneventful as they had promised themselves to make it. The statistical probability of Jim finding trouble despite his best intentions to avoid it were high, and Spock had to admit that he had been aware of this since the first day of their association.
He should have expected to find himself in the waiting area of a local Georgia hospital, he thought calmly as he sat in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs that, judging by their design, originated at least twenty years ago.
It was, Spock thought, fascinating.
The hospital was small, the waiting area empty besides him, and the look the nurse had given him when he’d inquired about Jim’s status had been curious – people around here, Spock speculated, seemed not used to non-terrestrial life forms in their midst.
She had quickly shaken herself out of her curiosity and had told him that a certain Dr. McCoy would join him soon to update him on Jim’s current physical status, and Spock had thanked her and had retreated to the waiting area.
Twenty-three point seven minutes later, a tired-looking human with warm brown eyes and neatly-parted hair, dressed in medical scrubs, entered the room. His gaze had immediately fallen on Spock.
“Commander,” he greeted cautiously. “I’m Dr. Leonard McCoy, Mr. Kirk’s physician.”
“Doctor.” Spock stood and bowed his head in greeting. “What is Captain Kirk’s status?”
McCoy reached up and scratched the back of his neck briefly, a gesture Spock found fascinating – McCoy seemed confident, certain of his skills and the space he occupied, the gesture of insecurity he was displaying was jarring – before saying, “Oh, don’t worry, your Captain Kirk will be fine. Some bruises and scratches, a broken collarbone, nothing a few hours in our care won’t be able to heal.” He shrugged slightly. “I’d be more worried about the parasite living off his liver.”
Holding up a hand to stop Spock’s comment, he said, “Again, nothing we can’t fix, but the little bugger has been in his liver for at least four weeks – maybe you should check with your medical department, make sure nobody else caught it.”
Spock tilted his head to the side. “You are certain this parasite is not a recent acquisition.”
“Hell, yeah,” McCoy growled. “Sucker that size? Four weeks, I’m telling you.”
Spock’s mind flashed back four weeks, to the planet they had beamed to, and the complaints about abdominal cramps several members of the away team had complained about. The medical staff on the Enterprise hadn’t found the cause of these cramps – it looked, Spock thought, as if this doctor had.
Fascinating.
“Can you remove it?” he inquired.
McCoy grinned. “Already done. Your Captain’s resting now. He’ll be fine.” He looked for a moment as if he wanted to pat Spock’s shoulder, but he stopped himself from actually making contact, as if he’d remembered, just in the nick of time, that Spock was Vulcan and Vulcans didn’t care for physical contact as humans did.
~~*~~
True to McCoy’s word, Jim Kirk didn’t seem worse for the wear, a little banged up, as he assured Spock when he was allowed to visit his friend half an hour later. His broken collarbone was already healed, but his arm was still in a supportive sling, and he was sitting upright in his bed, several pillows stuffed behind him for comfort and support.
His eyes were sparkling, his grin as easy as ever, despite the fact that he’d fallen out of a tree and had had a parasite removed from his liver that day.
“Don’t worry about me, Spock, I’m in the best and most capable hands here,” he drawled and gave McCoy a wide grin. “Old Bones here will have me back on my feet before you can blink.”
McCoy growled under his breath about the nickname, and Spock refused to point out the lack of logic in Jim’s statement.
“I’m a little worried that our medical personnel didn’t find this thing,” Jim added, the grin gone from his face.
McCoy rolled his eyes and ran his tricorder over Jim’s body again. “That’s probably because these things tend to hide for as long as possible,” he pointed out.
Jim regarded him thoughtfully. “Hey, Bones,” he finally said, “Have you ever thought about joining Starfleet? They could use someone with your expertise…”
McCoy laughed, a sharp, humorless sound that didn’t quite fit in with the gruff but still caring persona he’d shown them so far. “Starfleet? Me? No thanks, kid. Space…that’s disease and danger, wrapped in darkness and silence. No, that’s not for me.” He glanced at his tricorder again. “Besides, I have a daughter to take care of.”
He nodded at the results of his exam, apparently satisfied, and left the room with a small amused shake of his head, leaving Spock and Jim alone.
Jim glanced at Spock.
Spock had seen the stubborn expression in his eyes before, and he knew what it meant.
The fascinating and enigmatic Doctor would get to meet the charismatic, persuasive side of Jim Kirk; and Spock found himself looking forward to Jim’s pursuit of McCoy.
One thing could be said with the relative probability of ninety-six point one percent: the rest of their shore leave would be exciting and fascinating.
Spock had no doubt that he would enjoy it very much.
~end.
Author: Kathie
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Disclaimer: Not mine, not true, blah.
Rating: FRT-13
Pairing: none
Summary: "It's Earth, Spock - what can happen?" Jim had said, and Spock remembered these words as he sat in the waiting area of a small Georgia hospital and waited.
Warnings: AU
Word Count: 1160
A/Ns: written for
au_bingo prompt hospital. Title from the Hitchhiker's Guide, of course.“Come on, Spock,” Jim had said with a cajoling grin that hadn’t done anything to Spock’s Vulcan self-control, no matter how hard Jim tried and no matter how often he did so, “It’s Earth. Probably the most boring planet in the history of boredom. Completely harmless. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen there?”
Spock had thought about Jim’s words, and after careful application of several filtering algorithms he’d developed since he’d met Cadet James Tiberius Kirk at the Starfleet Academy and had taken the young man under his tutelage – “his wing” as Captain Pike had said with a grin; Spock had checked himself carefully with the aid of a mirror and had, not surprisingly, confirmed that he had not grown additional appendages enabling him to fly – and had determined that Earth was, indeed, a relatively safe planet.
After agreeing with Jim’s initial assessment, albeit cautiously, there had been no logical reason for Spock to refuse joining his best friend on his shore leave. The only living family he still had was his father, and Sarek was busy with the development of the new Vulcan settlement. It would be highly illogical to request of Sarek to spend time away from his important task simply for the sake of sentimental reasons.
Before he’d known what was happening to him, Spock had been dragged to Earth by a very determined Jim Kirk who simply wouldn’t take no for an answer – not that Spock had tried very hard – and who was determined to have a good time, no matter the cost.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him that their shore leave was not as uneventful as they had promised themselves to make it. The statistical probability of Jim finding trouble despite his best intentions to avoid it were high, and Spock had to admit that he had been aware of this since the first day of their association.
He should have expected to find himself in the waiting area of a local Georgia hospital, he thought calmly as he sat in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs that, judging by their design, originated at least twenty years ago.
It was, Spock thought, fascinating.
The hospital was small, the waiting area empty besides him, and the look the nurse had given him when he’d inquired about Jim’s status had been curious – people around here, Spock speculated, seemed not used to non-terrestrial life forms in their midst.
She had quickly shaken herself out of her curiosity and had told him that a certain Dr. McCoy would join him soon to update him on Jim’s current physical status, and Spock had thanked her and had retreated to the waiting area.
Twenty-three point seven minutes later, a tired-looking human with warm brown eyes and neatly-parted hair, dressed in medical scrubs, entered the room. His gaze had immediately fallen on Spock.
“Commander,” he greeted cautiously. “I’m Dr. Leonard McCoy, Mr. Kirk’s physician.”
“Doctor.” Spock stood and bowed his head in greeting. “What is Captain Kirk’s status?”
McCoy reached up and scratched the back of his neck briefly, a gesture Spock found fascinating – McCoy seemed confident, certain of his skills and the space he occupied, the gesture of insecurity he was displaying was jarring – before saying, “Oh, don’t worry, your Captain Kirk will be fine. Some bruises and scratches, a broken collarbone, nothing a few hours in our care won’t be able to heal.” He shrugged slightly. “I’d be more worried about the parasite living off his liver.”
Holding up a hand to stop Spock’s comment, he said, “Again, nothing we can’t fix, but the little bugger has been in his liver for at least four weeks – maybe you should check with your medical department, make sure nobody else caught it.”
Spock tilted his head to the side. “You are certain this parasite is not a recent acquisition.”
“Hell, yeah,” McCoy growled. “Sucker that size? Four weeks, I’m telling you.”
Spock’s mind flashed back four weeks, to the planet they had beamed to, and the complaints about abdominal cramps several members of the away team had complained about. The medical staff on the Enterprise hadn’t found the cause of these cramps – it looked, Spock thought, as if this doctor had.
Fascinating.
“Can you remove it?” he inquired.
McCoy grinned. “Already done. Your Captain’s resting now. He’ll be fine.” He looked for a moment as if he wanted to pat Spock’s shoulder, but he stopped himself from actually making contact, as if he’d remembered, just in the nick of time, that Spock was Vulcan and Vulcans didn’t care for physical contact as humans did.
~~*~~
True to McCoy’s word, Jim Kirk didn’t seem worse for the wear, a little banged up, as he assured Spock when he was allowed to visit his friend half an hour later. His broken collarbone was already healed, but his arm was still in a supportive sling, and he was sitting upright in his bed, several pillows stuffed behind him for comfort and support.
His eyes were sparkling, his grin as easy as ever, despite the fact that he’d fallen out of a tree and had had a parasite removed from his liver that day.
“Don’t worry about me, Spock, I’m in the best and most capable hands here,” he drawled and gave McCoy a wide grin. “Old Bones here will have me back on my feet before you can blink.”
McCoy growled under his breath about the nickname, and Spock refused to point out the lack of logic in Jim’s statement.
“I’m a little worried that our medical personnel didn’t find this thing,” Jim added, the grin gone from his face.
McCoy rolled his eyes and ran his tricorder over Jim’s body again. “That’s probably because these things tend to hide for as long as possible,” he pointed out.
Jim regarded him thoughtfully. “Hey, Bones,” he finally said, “Have you ever thought about joining Starfleet? They could use someone with your expertise…”
McCoy laughed, a sharp, humorless sound that didn’t quite fit in with the gruff but still caring persona he’d shown them so far. “Starfleet? Me? No thanks, kid. Space…that’s disease and danger, wrapped in darkness and silence. No, that’s not for me.” He glanced at his tricorder again. “Besides, I have a daughter to take care of.”
He nodded at the results of his exam, apparently satisfied, and left the room with a small amused shake of his head, leaving Spock and Jim alone.
Jim glanced at Spock.
Spock had seen the stubborn expression in his eyes before, and he knew what it meant.
The fascinating and enigmatic Doctor would get to meet the charismatic, persuasive side of Jim Kirk; and Spock found himself looking forward to Jim’s pursuit of McCoy.
One thing could be said with the relative probability of ninety-six point one percent: the rest of their shore leave would be exciting and fascinating.
Spock had no doubt that he would enjoy it very much.
~end.