Inell's Fanfiction Archive

Kirk/McCoy - "A lie is a poor way to say hello."

When Jim hears the sound of the doors opening, he turns to see Bones stepping over the threshold. “I don’t want to talk to you,” Jim tells him curtly.

“A lie is a poor way to say hello, Jim.” Bones ignores him, as usual, and crosses the Observation Deck.

“I came here to be alone, Bones.” Jim glares, not that it has any affect on Bones.

“I don’t count. Isn’t that what you always say?” Bones gives him that ‘I’m a stubborn bastard, too’ look as he leans against the wall beside Jim.

“Why are you here? You hate this deck,” Jim mutters. While Bones has worked through his fears, mostly, he generally avoids coming here, where it’s almost floor to ceiling windows showing the deep space around them. For him to come here, it’s got to be important. Jim isn’t really in the mood to be flattered at the thought that he’s important enough.

“It isn’t your fault,” Bones says simply. Jim tenses and looks away from him. When he feels Bones’ arm nudge his, he bites the inside of his cheek. “Jim, you can’t blame yourself.”

“Why not?” He closes his eyes and is immediately taken back to the recent expedition on Bwort IV. He can practically feel the humidity and heavy atmosphere that made it difficult to breathe as the landing party explored. “I wasn’t careful enough, Bones. Barrett died, and I couldn’t help her. I should have paid more attention, should have noticed--“

“What, Jim? How could you have predicted an earthquake?” Bones snorts. “She died on my table. If anyone should be playing this blame game, it’s me. You managed to get her out and bring her back here.”

Jim opens his eyes and looks at Bones. “Stop it,” he says sharply. “This isn’t a contest. She’s the first crew member that we’ve lost since beginning the mission, Bones. I held her in my arms, watched her struggle to stay alive, had to wash her blood off my hands. I know that she had internal bleeding and was living on borrowed time just to make it back here, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel responsible. Just like you do.” He stares at Bones and suddenly understands how difficult it must be to deal with life and death constantly the way that Bones does.

Bones tilts his head and smiles wryly. “Would you believe me if I say it gets easier?”

“No,” Jim murmurs. “Anyway, you know that you can’t lie to me, Bones.”

“Damn it, Jim.” Bones shakes his head. “I was drunk when I told you that. A gentleman would just forget about it.”

“Don’t really think I’m much of a gentleman.” Jim looks at him and leans over to kiss Bones before he can think about it. It’s awkward and messy and maybe more than a little desperate, but Bones starts to kiss him back and it gets a lot better. When they break apart, Jim touches Bones’ face. “Help me deal with it?”

“Yeah,” Bones agrees gruffly, pulling him closer. “I can do that.”