Work Text:
You're like the sun, you go out without reason (You go out without reason)
Giving light and calm
A single flower that I keep for myself
And your voice that disarms me.
ACT I (McCoy)
It must be close to 11 a.m. in the morning in my beloved native Georgia. Yet I am not in that sunny land, scented by the fragrance of peach blossoms. Wait!....Am I rambling?..... No, it's just my tiredness. In this glorified tin can, we often lose track of time! I turn my gaze to the clock on my friend's desk. It is 12:30 at night, somewhere lost in remote space.
I continue with my unfinished work, after hours, staring at my PADD, sitting on Jim's sofa. I appear to be engrossed in various boring admiralty reports. Jim and Spock continue their chess game. Chess is a game that bores me. Too much strategy. I prefer games of chance, as they are more impulsive. You bet on a hunch, on the winning card. That's more in line with my somewhat tumultuous personality.
My friend looks intensely at his first officer, with those beautiful hazel eyes. His face gesticulates constantly, with a mixture of micro expressions of love and silly gestures. Spock keeps his usual poker face. He expresses nothing beyond his interest in the game. His inner storms and battles are another thing. He denies them, he is a Vulcan. Vulcans control their emotions. They control them so much that, at times, they seem to be emotional constipated.
I blink several times. Maybe sleep will be able to convince me to take a nap. The most boring part of my job is the paperwork. I can't help it. If you're the chief medical officer of a starship, you know you're going to have to deal with it. I glance sideways at my friends. Jim is doing quite a bit of talking tonight. He moves from one topic to another with apparent ease. He tries to engage me in the conversation he's having with Spock, but gets only grunts from me.
I can only look at the two of them and think that they are made for each other. They look like a couple of puzzle pieces that can't decide to fit together. I admit that I have been tempted to lend a hand and intervene. Too many longing glances, furtive touches and flirtatious smiles. So.... "Get a damn room!" I feel like yelling at them. I hold back. I take a deep breath and lose myself in my tedious work. The PADD blinks. Maybe this infamous thing is running out of battery. Damn it! Shut the hell down and leave me alone!
Spock checkmates and Jim sighs, somewhat annoyed. He's competitive and doesn't like to lose. Normally, he almost always loses to Spock. But he doesn't let himself be defeated easily.
The brain of that computerized Vulcan is prodigious, he knows that I know it, but I'll never confirm it. Damn it!, he doesn't even have vanity! Spock is intellect and logic, mixed with a nobility that makes him seem like an innocent child. I try not to let him hide his human side under that shell of cold restraint. Maybe he hates me for it. No, I don't think he does. Somehow, Spock knows that I respect him completely.
Suddenly, a yawn that was fluttering in my brain, struggling to escape, manifests itself unabashedly.
Jim, having heard me, lifts his eyes from the board. They've started another damn game.
"Are we boring you, Bones?"
"You mean because of my yawning?" I raise an eyebrow as high as I can. Which I don't find difficult, due to it being one of my most characteristically gestures. "I can't say that chess is a risky sport and that watching it produces an adrenaline rush in me. It produces in me the same interest as watching a Klingon warrior scratch his belly, in front of me."
Spock looks at me, with his hawk-like gaze that misses nothing around him, and does his own version of his eyebrow raising. "Doctor, I would advise you to put down the PADD and join the chat Jim and I shared while we played. You'd probably find it more interesting than your medical reports."
I'm about to tell him to mind his own business. For example; he should respond to his captain's discreet courtship and cut the crap. But I don't say anything about it, and decide to answer him with something that might annoy him a little bit:
"You surprise me, Spock, for you work always comes first. Conversation between humans must seem to you a waste of time or something inappropriate. If not, you are beginning to develop your hidden skills in socializing with others. Be careful, as this attitude can make you seem....too-human."
A slight twitch of the corner of his lips betrays his amusement. "Doctor, nothing could be further from my intention than to increase my similarity to homo sapiens. We Vulcans are fond of conversation and debate, too. Our diplomatic skills and facility with words are well known throughout the galaxy."
"Presumptuous Vulcan!" I say to myself. I take that back that he has no vanity.
Jim smiles broadly. He takes advantage of the distraction to make an attack move and try to put his first officer on the spot.
I stifle another big yawn and focus my waning attention on the PADD, again. My eyelids begin to close and I finally grant my exhausted brain a snooze.
Jim Kirk continues his cheerful chatter, which is fast becoming a distant murmur. Spock has picked up the game, as expected, and at the same time, he entertains himself by answering Jim.
My friend's sofa is especially comfortable. Comfortable and seems to be able to hug me gently. I wish I could stay and live on the damn sofa and not have to go back to my quarters to sleep. I drop the PADD on my lap, and abandon my mind to rest. My tired eyes close and the murmur of conversation seems like a lullaby softly accompanying me.
Something has a hold on my back. Whatever it is, it gives warmth and smells good. Whatever it is, it growls softly when I try to move a little. I open one eye first. It's Jim's room. It's unmistakable. Only he has such horrible taste in decor. I try to wriggle away from whatever it is, again. 'Whatever' turns out to be James Kirk. I open my other eye. When I manage to focus my gaze, I discover a figure sitting on the floor, on a mat, near the bed. It's Spock.
His eyes are closed, probably meditating. Spock needs to meditate as much as I need a nice glass of bourbon when I finish my work at Sickbay. It's not an equal comparison, I know. Bourbon is much better!
Jim looks like he needs to cuddle up to something to sleep. I don't know how I got into his bed. My friends probably took pity on me and decided that an old country doctor needed a good mattress to rest his aching bones. I seem to have reached an age that makes me worthy of pity.
I like Kirk's hug. It's making me feel good.So good!. However, I have a physiological need to resolve. I'm peeing myself, plainly stated. I devise a strategy to get up. I move gently, a few inches. My captain mumbles and gurgles like a baby. He's still clinging to me like a lonely octopus. With my free arm, I pull the pillow closer to Jim's body. The stimulation of the pillow's fabric on his skin makes him cling to it and sets me free. Hip, hip, hooray! At last I can get up. Noiselessly, and in the semi-darkness of the room, I head for the bathroom.
It's a bit embarrassing, I confess. I'm dressed only in my regulation boxers and my black undershirt. Who has half undressed me? There is a part of my body that has suddenly become happy and has decided to manifest itself in all its splendor. I pass by Spock, who continues in his Vulcan semi-vegetative state.
Once inside the bathroom, I try to relax and wet my face with the cold water from the sink. It seems that Jim's embrace, the contact with his skin, has produced a paradoxical reaction in the lower part of my organism. When I feel things return to normal, I return to the room.
I gasp. Spock is still sitting in his meditative position, but his scrutinizing eyes keep watching me. Since when has he been watching me? I start to blush like a teenager.
I walk over to him and speak softly. "You should be sleeping."
"As you well know, a Vulcan's sleep needs are inferior to those of humans." He answers me. Again that slightly mocking expression of his. "Are you feeling all right, Doctor, any problems with your anatomy?"
To my good fortune, I'm already completely flushed. That damned superior vision of his! I'm beginning to suspect he saw what happened to me when I got up from Jim's side. "I'm feeling perfectly fine." I reply, while furrowing my brow as hard as I can. Maybe this way, I'll scare him a little and he won't press the issue.
"It's...fascinating." He replies to me, softly.
A faint snore coming from the bed reminds us both that Jim is still there.
"Do you feel like playing pillow for Jim. He needs to hold on tightly to something or someone in order to rest." I ask. "Doctor's orders."
"Indeed. But that's not one of my powers as first officer."
Then, Spock raises his eyebrow. I raise mine as well. We are capable of competing with that ability together, if necessary. Of course, I would be the winner, in such a silly competition.
"We can share our role as pillow for the captain." He answers me, after a second of hesitation.
I shrug my shoulders. "I propose that you lie on one side of Jim and I on the other. We leave him in the middle and snatch the pillow from him."
Spock nods.
"I expect a Vulcan to know how to support and comfort his captain." I reply, challenging him with my gaze.
"I expect a chief medical officer to know how to support and comfort his captain, too. We can't have Jim being uncomfortable." He shoots back at me. "I'm convinced it's something you don't find distasteful."
This idiot knows how to shut me up!
The Vulcan does something unusual for him. He runs his hand over me, gently stroking my back, and with a gentle push, guides me to the bed, next to Jim.
Lying there, at that moment, I wonder what I wouldn't do for those two dear friends. I would give my life and everything I have for them.
Friends? We are becoming much more than that!
We are resembling a tangled triangle, the sides of which are merging, without our being able to help it. United in a bond that goes beyond professional or friendly. I'm not going to be the one to avoid... that merger!
ACT II (Spock)
My captain is a great chess opponent. As a Vulcan, my average intelligence is well above that of a human. On some occasions, I must confess that I have let myself be beaten by him. I don't want him to lose interest in playing with me. These are those moments that allow me to get to know him in greater depth and get closer to his personality. He leaves in these evenings of chess and chatting, his facet as captain and behaves lightly, fully relaxed. This is how I learned to love him, away from the bridge and the missions, in the intimacy shared in his quarters.
Jim looks tired. It's been weeks where we've chained mission after mission, and as is the norm in our activities, what seemed like simple missions without too much commitment, have turned out to be complicated. I know this is not logical, but statistically, I have observed this. Despite all the weariness he has been accumulating during these days, he does not let go of his kindness towards me. His smile, so sincere and so sweet, is one of his human expressions that I appreciate the most. In fact, I need to see his smile every day.
James Kirk is aesthetically beautiful, with a proportionate body. He has just the right amount of muscle where he needs it, nothing is too much or too little. I execute a move with the king and proceed to put him in difficulty. The captain moistens his lips with the tip of his tongue and absently repositions his hair, seemingly confused.
Jim is sensual, gentle when he needs to be and powerfully masculine when he wants to be. I often need to meditate to rebuild my mental shields after being in his company.
As on many nights, we have the company of Dr. McCoy. Another tired man. From what I know of him, when he is out of energy he becomes grumpier than usual. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He seems interested in his PADD. The truth is he's more concerned about not falling asleep and listening to us than he is about his work. Meeting McCoy has been one of the most enriching experiences in my observation of human behavior. For that alone, it has been worthwhile. What began as an experiment on my part, giving him a rebuttal to his acidic and illogical comments, ended up being, first, a recognition of his medical ability and dedication to his work.
After a time of mutual coexistence, I have verified on many occasions that under that sometimes bitter and emotional exterior there is an undercurrent of compassion and respect for any form of life, which ended up making me love him. McCoy is aesthetically different from Jim, he has a natural elegance in his walk that makes it difficult for me to keep my mental shields in place.
Vulcans love, we just try to find logic and reason in our choice of partners. We just need a little more time than other species in the galaxy. We do not choose at random or get carried away by first impressions. Our bond is for life.
Suddenly, the doctor experiences a yawn, which he unabashedly expresses.
Jim, after listening to him, lifts his eyes from the board.
"Are we boring you, Bones?"
"You mean because of my yawning?. I can't say that chess is a risky sport and that watching it produces an adrenaline rush in me. It produces in me the same interest as watching a Klingon warrior scratch his belly, in front of me."
I notice that Leonard goes into ironic mode.
I analyze the doctor. The dark coloration under his blue eyes, his puffy eyelids and his whole body expression indicate that he is about to fall asleep. "Doctor, I would advise you to put down the PADD and join the chat Jim and I shared while we played. You would probably find it more interesting than your medical reports."
"You surprise me, Spock, for you work always comes first. Conversation between humans must seem to you a waste of time or inappropriate. If not, you are beginning to develop your hidden abilities to socialize with others. Be careful, as this attitude can make you seem....too-human."
That exciting feeling of our verbal battles is reborn in me. I decide to talk back to him and tease him a little. "Doctor, nothing could be further from my intention than to increase my similarity to homo sapiens. We Vulcans are fond of conversation and debate, too. Our diplomatic skills and facility with words are well known throughout the galaxy."
Leonard is silent, but I can almost read his thoughts. I'm sure he's mentally sending me one of his silly human insults. If the doctor were a telepath, I'd have a good headache every day.
Jim smiles broadly. He takes advantage of the distraction to make an attacking move and try to put me in a bind on the chessboard.
Leonard McCoy stifles another big yawn and focuses his waning attention on his PADD, again. His eyelids begin to close and he dozes off. It's illogical, but I understand him. He enjoys our evening meetings as much as Jim or I do. He should have gone to his quarters and slept, but he preferred to be with us.
McCoy's PADD slips from his legs and ends up on the floor. The metallic clank, jolts Jim out of his concentration on the game. He looks at our mutual friend as he strokes the back of his neck, trying to relax his muscles. Leonard half-opens his mouth, as his breathing becomes slower and more relaxed. A small trickle of saliva slips gently from the corner of his lips. Jim's sofa seems to have trapped and captured him, he is totally absorbed by the soft fabric and the adaptable, ergonomic padding. It is remarkable how easy the doctor finds it, to fall asleep anywhere and quickly. I have observed that the average time between closing his eyes and falling asleep is about 54 seconds. Very remarkable for a human being.
Jim smiles at me, as he puts down the chess piece he was holding on the table. "I think Spock, that for tonight, that's enough. " He says to me. The captain yawns more gently than McCoy, but in return, his face always has a harder time hiding his fatigue.
Tired humans. It's fascinating. I've been sharing my life with my own mother's species for so many years now that I've come to know them all too well. In the case of the doctor, being tired, on some occasions, is often an unspoken demonstration of bad mood to those around him. Like Vulcan, I don't believe in luck, but you can consider yourself in possession of that illogical word if Leonard McCoy's reaction to his tiredness is simply that he behaves, in Jim's words 'like a cantankerous old country doctor'.
I sense that Jim's gaze is glued to the back of my neck, while I have shifted my attention from him to the doctor. I turn my head, and my captain seems to wince a little. I think he is trying to hide some emotion, as his face becomes unreadable, all of a sudden.
He clears his throat, as he runs his hand through his hair, and coquettishly, puts his somewhat unkempt hairstyle back together from a while ago.
"Spock, Bones has fallen completely asleep. He's knocked out." He says to me, as he rises from his chair and approaches his friend. He shakes his palm in front of the surgeon's face, as if wanting to make sure of his earlier words. Jim can also be illogical in his behavior. He then brings his index finger forward and gently touches McCoy's shoulder. The doctor neither flinches nor makes any gesture of returning to consciousness.
Kirk turns around and smiles openly at me. "I think we can call our chess game over for today. Shall we agree to call it a draw in the game?" He phrases it in a falsely innocent manner. We both know he hates to lose at anything. I decide to be diplomatic with Jim, as I often am. "Affirmative. That's the most rational conclusion." I reply. Truly, tonight has been one of the worst nights I've shared the game of chess with him. We Vulcans don't lie, but we can tell what humans call 'white lies'.
Besides, tonight, my captain looks especially handsome and stunning. I can't deny him anything he asks of me. I don't know if it's his unkempt hair, his eyes shining through the fog of sleep, or that his regulation shirt clings to his muscles with singular elegance that disturbs me at the moment. I raise my mental shields hard, to maintain control, for even his perfume is intoxicating and unnerving to me.
Jim yawns a couple of times. His face is a little poem of embarrassment and need. "I'm sorry, Spock. It's not that I find your company boring, I'm just exhausted."
I raise an eyebrow. "At no time have I ever believed that my presence could be boring to you."
Kirk lifts his shoulders slightly, panting, as he hides a laugh. "Thank goodness Bones is asleep. I can't even imagine the colorful metaphors with which he would accompany his response to your last sentence."
The captain sits up in his bed, as he begins to remove his boots, which he discards to the side of the bed. He then strips off his pants, which also end up on the floor. He starts chatting casually with me, apparently giving no importance to his near-nudity after removing his gold shirt. Jim is not shy about showing his naked body. He could easily walk around his ship naked, and even sit in his bridge chair that way. I dismiss that thought, as it unsettles me emotionally.
I remain with my usual neutral expression. Nothing in my body, or on my face, betrays the bubbling sensations that alter my heartbeat or my blood pressure. I also recognize that my intimate Vulcan anatomy is revealing itself to my absolute control.
Then, Jim asks me. "What do we do with Bones?" He points to our friend, who is still snoring placidly on his cushioned couch. "I'd be sorry to wake him up now. He looks so vulnerable... Look at him, I think he needs some company tonight. He's a lonely idiot, but he's not able to recognize that he needs physical contact, just like everyone else."
My eyebrow rises as high as my face will allow.
James Kirk is already lying on his bed, clad only in his regulation boxers. He pats the mattress and smiles slyly. "Spock, wouldn't it be fun if we all slept here together tonight?"
I blink slightly. "Fun?" I reply. "Is this a custom of planet earth that I'm unaware of?"
"It would be kind of like a pajama night. You know, like a group of girls going to sleep over at one girl's house, sleep together in the same room and...share confidences."
"We're not a group of teenage girls, Jim."
Kirk raises his hands to the sky and smiles kindly at me. "It's a figure of speech, Spock. Perhaps tonight, I... need a little support or companionship."
Humans and that illogical habit of theirs of spinning things until they confess what they really want. I decide to take the initiative. I approach Leonard and take off his regulation boots. I take him in my arms, while he drops his head on my shoulder. The doctor mumbles something, softly, but his accent is so pronouncedly Southern that I don't understand what he's saying.
Now McCoy is lying next to Jim, who is grinning like a child who has been given a new toy. "Are you going to join us, Spock?" Jim pulls off Leonard's pants and blue shirt. I don't understand how McCoy doesn't wake up to so much movement. It's not logical for a Vulcan, but humans can be exhausted and fall into the deepest sleep in the universe.
I gently shake my head. "If you don't mind, Jim, before I go to sleep I need some meditation time."
The captain seems to understand easily, as always when it comes to my Vulcan ways. "No problem. Anytime, you're welcome to join us."
He curls up next to the doctor and quickly closes his hazel eyes. They both look like they haven't slept for several days. I order the computer to turn the lights down to 20%. I use one of Jim's large towels as a meditation mat, and give thanks that I can turn off my mind for a while. My self-control was wobbling unpleasantly. I begin my relaxation exercises.
Before long, Kirk has clung to the doctor's sleeping figure. I find it an intimate and adorable gesture.
The job of starship captain can be a lonely one. A lot of pressure and the need to maintain form and discipline. Loneliness has been with my captain for a long time. His life is limited to his ship and a few intermittent love affairs of his own, which have left him rather shaken at times. James Kirk has built a strong wall around his existence, and there are few occasions when he shows his weakness or intimate needs. Only McCoy or I have witnessed his vulnerability. I am honored by the trust he has placed in me. Truly, I love him, beyond our working relationships or on the bridge.
Despite my meditative state, my attention is permanent. I notice that Leonard has awakened.
He is confused. He doesn't know where he is. As soon as his brain kicks in, he devises a strategy to get up. He moves gently, a few inches. Our captain mumbles and gurgles like a Selaht baby. He still clings to the good doctor. With his free arm, he pulls the pillow closer to Jim's body. The stimulus of the pillow's fabric on his skin makes him cling to it and sets him free. Clever strategy! At last he is able to get up.
Noiselessly, and in the semi-darkness of the room, he heads for the bathroom. Inwardly, the situation amuses me. Everything that annoys Leonard entertains and fascinates me. I recognize that I am not innocent in my thoughts. McCoy attacks my mental shields differently than Jim, but it's still as exciting as when I think of my captain.
He is dressed only in his regulation boxers and black undershirt. There is a part of his body that has suddenly become suddenly swollen and has decided to manifest itself in all its glory. He walks past me. He must think I'm still meditating and not noticing anything. It seems that Jim's embrace, the contact with his skin has produced a paradoxical reaction in the lower part of his organism. I am having fun again, at the surgeon's expense. After a while, he returns to the room.
He gives a start. He's noticed that I've been watching him for a while. What has this damn Vulcan noticed? He must be thinking. McCoy begins to blush.
He walks over to me and speaks to me in a low voice. "You should be sleeping!"
"As you well know, a Vulcan's sleep needs are inferior to those of humans." I reply. "Are you feeling all right, Doctor, any problems with your anatomy?" I try to disguise the slightly mocking tone in my voice.
"I feel perfectly fine." He answers me, while frowning as hard as he can. He's trying to look like he's angry.
"It's...fascinating." I reply, softly.
I sense, from the extreme openness of his deep blue eyes and mouth, that through the doctor's chaotic brain, the thought of kicking my Vulcan ass has been hovering.
A faint snore coming from the bed, reminds us both that Jim is still there.
"Do you feel like playing pillow for Jim?". He needs to hold on tightly to something or someone in order to rest. Doctor's orders!"
"Indeed. But that's not one of my remits as first officer." I go to fiddle with McCoy a bit.
Then, he raises his eyebrow. I raise mine too. My beloved doctor is confused and surprised by my response.
"We can share our role as pillow for the captain." I reply, after a second of hesitation. I change my mind illogically and quickly, deciding not to bother the doctor anymore for that night.
He shrugs. "I propose that you lie on one side of Jim and I lie on the other. We leave him in the middle and snatch the pillow from him."
I nod.
"I expect a Vulcan to know how to support and comfort his captain." He replies, challenging me with his gaze.
"I expect a chief medical officer to know how to support and comfort his captain, too. We can't have Jim being uncomfortable." I retort. "I'm convinced it's something you don't find distasteful." Oh, Vulcan gods, I am again tempted to tease McCoy!"
I get him to keep quiet. With that small victory over him, I am satisfied.
I do something unusual, but desired. Physical contact with Leonard. I run my hand over, gently stroking his back, and with a gentle push, guide him to the bed, next to Jim.
In the tradition of my home planet, there are triads in love relationships. They are not so frequent, but they turn out to be satisfactory for all the members.
ACT III (Jim Kirk)
Some say that a successful Starfleet captain should not have problems, yearnings or feel lost, on many occasions. First and foremost, I am human. Very human, and I am driven by my passions and my impulses. I know I do my job well, my responsibility and my dedication to my ship and my crew members is total.
Despite this, one day, it occurred to me to organize some informal meetings, after our work for Spock, Bones and myself. The excuse was to play chess, have a nice time, have a drink with McCoy and talk about nonsense or about the importance of life itself, letting ourselves be carried away by the inspiration in the talk, which each night brought us.
I have become addicted to these evenings. They give me emotional stability. They don't seem like much, to an outside observer, but to me they are fundamental.
James T. Kirk relies on his two best friends for his decisions. Bones is the realistic and emotional imp, and Spock represents the logical and calm angel. I've come to imagine them, like little figures on my shoulders, hovering over me and trying to convince me of their positions.
Well, there is something else. Much more. Do not ask me when it happened, as it was a process, which was prolonged in time.
I move my horse. I hope to put Spock in trouble. I know perfectly well that he lets himself be won on some occasions. His kindness and loyalty to me knows no bounds. I can't take my eyes off him. At times, I know I am too intense with him. Spock shows no apparent interest in me. His face, which seems carved from some beautiful, glowing stone from his home planet, is expressionless, and he seems only focused on our game.
I have tried to get Bones to join our conversation, but he only emits grunts. Always devoted to his healing vocation, paperwork and his own inner world. Little given to telling his concerns, and always willing to listen to those of others. He is the most generous soul I know, the most compassionate. I love him deeply, but my feelings are diluted in him as if he melts with them and does not want to accept them. The only thing I perceive is his reciprocal friendship. He is about to fall asleep. Just another lonely man on this crowded ship.
Suddenly, Bones unabashedly yawns. Oh, Boy!, where did you leave your southern upbringing?
So I raise my eyes from the board, after listening to him. We've just started another game.
"Are we boring you, Bones?" I ask him.
"You mean because of my yawning. "He raises an eyebrow as high as he can. "I can't say that chess is a risky sport and that watching it produces an adrenaline rush in me. It produces in me the same interest as watching a Klingon warrior scratch his belly, in front of me."
Spock looks at him. "Doctor, I would advise you to put down the PADD and join the chat Jim and I shared while we played. You would probably find it more interesting than your medical reports."
"You surprise me, Spock, for you work always comes first. Conversation between humans must seem like a waste of time or something inappropriate to you. If not, you are beginning to develop your hidden abilities to socialize with others. Be careful, as this attitude may make you seem....too-human."
"Doctor, nothing could be further from my intention than to increase my similarity to homo sapiens. We Vulcans are fond of conversation and debate, too. Our diplomatic skills and facility with words are well known throughout the galaxy."
"Well," I say to myself, "We've already got another mess going on, between these two huge, stubborn men!"
I grin openly. I have to bite my tongue to keep from bursting into a Milky Way-sized guffaw. I take advantage of the distraction to make an attacking move and try to put him in a bind on the chessboard.
My dear doctor stifles another big yawn and focuses his waning attention on his PADD, again. His eyelids begin to close and he dozes off. He enjoys our nightly meetings as much as Spock or I do. He should have gone to his quarters and slept, but he preferred to be with us.
Bones' PADD slips from his legs and ends up on the floor. The metallic clank, pull me out of my concentration on the game. I look at our friend, while I am stroking the back of my neck, trying to relax my muscles and a future migraine. Bones half-opens his mouth, as his breathing becomes slower and more relaxed. A small trickle of saliva slips gently from the corner of his lips. It reminds me of when he drinks too much and starts spouting the funniest nonsense I've ever heard in my life. He always drools a little.
My wonderful sofa seems to have trapped and captured him, he is totally absorbed by the soft fabric and the adaptable and ergonomic padding. That's not complicated, he's so thin that at times I wonder if he's going to become transparent. He's a nice pile of firm bones, and a blue eyes that resemble the sea, that mesmerize me....I'd like to be the one to catch him in my arms.
I leave the chess piece in my hand on the table. I have been squeezing it too hard and it has left a mark on the palm of my hand. "I think Spock, for tonight, that's enough. " Now I'm the one yawning, I'm just exhausted, exhausted and I feel...vulnerable.
My God!, Spock has noticed that I have my gaze locked on the back of his neck. He turns his head, and I give a little gasp, startled. The accumulated fatigue is hampering my ability to hide my emotions, so I decide to remain impassive.
To divert his attention, I clear my throat, as I bring my hand to my hair, and recompose my hairstyle. Damn it, I'm getting into flirting mode!
"Spock, Bones has fallen completely asleep. He's knocked out." I get up from my chair and walk over to my sleepy friend. I shake the palm of his hand in front of McCoy's face. Then he brings his index finger forward and gently touches his shoulder. Bones neither flinches nor makes any gesture to return to consciousness. He looks like he has fallen into a pool full of anesthetic fluid.
"I think we can call our chess game over for today, shall we call it a draw in the game?" I decide to feign an innocence I don't feel.
"Affirmative. That's the most rational conclusion."
I yawn a couple of times. I'm going to fall asleep on my feet. "I'm sorry, Spock. It's not that I find your company boring, I'm just exhausted."
He raises an eyebrow. "At no time have I ever believed that my presence could be boring to you."
I lift my shoulders slightly, panting, as I hide again, a laugh. "Thank goodness Bones is asleep. I can't even imagine the colorful metaphors with which he would accompany his response to your last sentence."
Okay, it's time for dream! So I sit on my bed, while I start to take off my boots, which I discard on the side of the bed. Then I take off my pants, which also end up on the floor... Well, this is normal, right? I'm not used to sleeping with my uniform on. Spock is looking at me strangely.
I start chatting casually, not giving importance to his surprised look at my ease in taking off my clothes in front of him. I'm not shy about showing my naked body! I could easily walk around my ship and even sit in my bridge chair like this. That way Spock and Bones could get a peek at my anatomy! I dismiss that thought, as it unsettles me emotionally!
Being a practical man, I ask, "What do we do about Bones?" I point to our friend, who is still snoring placidly on my padded sofa. "I'd be sorry to wake him up now. He looks so vulnerable... Look at him, I think he needs some company tonight. He's a lonely man, but he's not able to recognize that he needs physical contact, just like everyone else."
Spock's eyebrow shoots almost to the ceiling of my cabin.
I'm already lying on my bed, dressed only in my regulation boxers. I pat the mattress and smile slyly. "Spock, wouldn't it be fun if we all slept here together tonight?"
"Is this a custom of planet Earth that I'm unaware of?"
"It would be kind of like a sleepover night. You know, like a group of girls going to sleep over at one girl's house, sleep together in the same room and...share confidences."
"We're not a group of teenage girls, Jim."
I throw my hands up to the sky and smile politely. "That's one way to talk, Spock. Maybe tonight, I...need a little support or companionship."
My determined first officer takes the initiative. He approaches Bones and removes his regulation boots. He takes him in his arms, as he drops his head on his shoulder. He mumbles something, softly, but his accent is so pronouncedly Southern that I don't understand what he's saying.
Now Bones is lying next to me. I avoid the reaction of clapping my hands in glee like a small child. "Are you going to join us, Spock?." I decide to take off Bones' blue pants and shirt. I don't understand how he doesn't wake up to all this movement. I'm not going to let him get so exhausted from overworking himself again. If I have to watch over the health of a stubborn, grumpy doctor, he knows I will do it without hesitation.
My favorite Vulcan gently shakes his head. "If you don't mind, Jim, before I go to sleep I need some meditation time."
I'm willing to give him, anything he asks of me. Even my heart. It sounds silly and sweet, but that's how I feel. "No problem. Anytime, you're welcome to join us."
I snuggle next to Bones and quickly close my eyes. He has soft skin. As soft as he is himself, when that's how he chooses to behave. I sound silly and sweet again. Oh, God, is this what you'd expect from a Starfleet captain?
Spock orders the computer to turn the lights down to 20%. He has stolen one of the large towels from my bathroom, as a meditation mat.
I need to hold on to him more tightly, but I use as much care and gentleness as I can. The warm figure of my doctor reminds me of a teddy bear, somewhat furry, but very relaxing!
My job as starship captain can be a lonely one. Lots of pressure and the need to maintain manners and discipline. Loneliness has been with me for a long time. My life is limited to my ship and a few intermittent love affairs that have sometimes taken away my hope of being happy and sharing my life with someone special. You know, I have built a strong wall in my existence, and there are few occasions when I show my weakness or my intimate needs. Only Bones or Spock have witnessed my vulnerability. I feel very, very lucky to have them by my side. Really, I love them both, beyond our working relationships or on the bridge.
I'm starting to have a nightmare. I am a little boy again, abandoned on Tarsus VI, during the famine that ravaged the planet. Kodos and his men are chasing me and I'm running, trying to escape. Suddenly, Spock and Bones appear in front of me. Bones grabs me in his arms and we all start running. Spock is carrying a phaser and is firing at my attackers. I cling to my friend's body, but I am only a poor child who is afraid. I cling tighter and tighter.
The return to consciousness rips me out of that bad dream. I don't want to remember that time, but it comes back to my night terrors from time to time.
I find some peace, thinking that my friends are sleeping next to me today. Now, I'm clutching my pillow, while McCoy has gotten up and is heading for the bathroom. It's all been a nightmare! For some reason I can't quite figure out, I pretend I'm still asleep.
After a while, he returns to the room.
Bones winces and starts to blush. Something seems to have happened that I missed.
My friend approaches Spock and speaks softly to him. "You should be asleep."
"As you well know, a Vulcan's sleep needs are less than those of humans. "Are you feeling all right, doctor, any problems with your anatomy?"
"I feel perfectly fine." He replies, while frowning as hard as he can. He's trying to look as if he's angry.
"It's...fascinating." Spock replies, softly.
I sense, from the extreme openness of his deep blue eyes and his mouth, that Bones is in a mixed state of disturbance and near anger. I know him too well, what have I missed? I wonder again.
Anyway, I'm also used to being the center of attention for my two dear friends, so I emit a slight snore, to remind them that I'm still here, with them. I get a little jealous when Spock and Bones ignore me.
"Fancy playing pillow for Jim?". He needs to hold on tightly to something or someone in order to rest. Doctor's orders!"
"Indeed. But that's not one of my remits as first officer."
"We can share our role as pillow for the captain."
That sounds...exciting!
Bones shrugs. "I propose that you lie on one side of Jim and I lie on the other. We leave him in the middle and snatch the pillow from him."
Spock nods. I'm still pretending to sleep soundly, but I feel like jumping for joy.
"I hope a Vulcan knows how to support and comfort his captain." Bones replies, challenging him with his gaze.
"I expect a chief medical officer to know how to support and comfort his captain, too. We can't have Jim being uncomfortable." Spock retorts. "I'm sure it's something you don't find distasteful."
Ha! For crying out loud! Spock gets Bones McCoy to keep quiet! My eyes continue to squint, open wide enough so I don't miss anything.
He's saved the best for last. Spock does something unusual. Physical contact with Leonard. He runs his hand over, gently stroking his back, and with a gentle nudge, guides him to my bed, next to this evil captain who secretly spies on his best friends.
At that moment, for me, Spock and Bones are the mates who most complete my existence out of all the crew of the Enterprise. I passionately love them!
O o