How Long Will You Stay (For Your Whole Life)

Jim Kirk, deputy director of the Enterprise parks and recreation department, sees all of his hard work fall to pieces when budget specialist Leonard McCoy arrives from the state capital to cut Jim's budget and threaten the livelihoods of his colleagues. But thanks to a major parks project, Leonard finds a place in the department, as well as in Jim's life—and when all is said and done, Jim doesn't want him to leave.

Notes:

For noo.

This Big Bang was written as a looooong overdue story for noo, who kindly bid on me in a charity auction last year. I'm SO sorry it took this long but I really hope you enjoy it, hon! And thanks again for your generosity.
The story is a modern-day AU/crossover with the TV show Parks and Recreation, but you don't need to know the show to read the story, I promise. It's written in a similar style to how the show is filmed, with quick jumps between scenes and lots of talking head shots.
A million and one thanks to my excellent beta starsandgraces, who gave me the original bunny for this idea, and to screamlet, who offered lots of guidance along the way and laughed at all the right parts.
I couldn't have lucked out more in the art and mix departments. Thank you, azuremonkey, for your utterly beautiful artwork, and to clio_jlh, who made a wonderfully expansive and bouncy mix. It's a perfect soundtrack. Please check out the final results and give both artist and mixer some well-deserved love!
Title comes from "Love and Communication" by Cat Power.

Work Text:

If you ask Jim when everything changed, he'll tell you it was the day he brought in the beanbags.

"I loved the one I had in college, so I thought it'd be a good idea for the office," he says. His smile fades into a cringe. "Then I remembered that I would constantly fall asleep on it, and my roommate would wake me in the mornings, having drooled all over my homework. You can only explain that away as a dog or a debilitated family member once or twice, before the professors start to catch on."

It explains why, when Spock walks stiffly into the parks department office with two suits trailing behind him, everyone is passed out in their respective beanbags, totally dead to the world. Jim's phone is ringing but it's drowned out by the sound of his own snoring. Pavel sucks his thumb while Uhura dozes with a smutty paperback clutched in one hand, still open to the page she last read. Scotty's body is curled protectively around a partially eaten hoagie.

Spock picks up a metal garbage bin and then calmly lets it fall from his hands, back to the ground with a loud clatter. Everyone jumps to attention. One of the suits looks like he's going to have a heart attack.

"What the hell, man!" Jim complains. He tries to wipe the drool from the corner of his mouth as surreptitiously as possible.

"So not cool," Pavel grumbles in his thick Russian accent.

"Goddamn it; now I've lost my page," Uhura sighs.

Spock gives all of them his best disapproving glare. Jim knows it well; it's a doozy. "While I should not be surprised to walk in and see you all participating in naptime, we have guests, and they are likely not accustomed to government employees behaving like kindergarteners."

"We have guests?" Scotty holds out his sandwich. "Would either of you gents like a bite, then?"

The guy on the right looks vaguely interested before the much grumpier, scowlier man on the left elbows his side and shakes his head.

"No, thank you," says guy on the right. "But it looks delicious."

"Spock, can I talk to you for a minute?" Jim says, pulling him aside.

"We have guests?" Jim asks, once they're safely inside his office.

"Jim, I'm just as surprised as you are." Spock doesn't look very surprised, with his arms at his sides and his mouth pressed into the usual unmoving line, but if he says he is, Jim supposes he has to believe him. "They are state auditors, come to assess the department's budgetary problems."

"State auditors?" Jim repeats, sitting down heavily in his chair.

"Yes, and walking in to find the entire staff fast asleep in the middle of the work day was not a positive first impression."

"Auditors," Jim says, chewing on the end of a pencil. "'Audit' has always been one of my least favorite words." He peers out the window, into the other room, where the two men are pulling folders and papers out of their briefcases. "I'm pretty sure auditors are supposed to be old and stodgy, not young and attractive. How am I supposed to pay attention to what they say when they're sitting there being all…hot?"

"First things first: We are not here to punish you. The Enterprise parks department does amazing work."

The chipper guy—his name is Gary Mitchell—gestures quite a bit as he addresses the parks department staff. Behind him, the grumpy guy—Leonard McCoy, and Jim figures the name probably has a lot to do with why he's grumpy—leans against a desk and clutches a thick file folder to his chest. Jim immediately recognizes the entire thing as a "good cop, bad cop" scenario. Gary is buttering them up, making them feel special, and fattening them up for the kill.

Jim can tell that Uhura sees it, too. She sits with her arms folded across her chest, chewing gum and staring at Gary with narrowed eyes that double as finely honed bullshit detectors. She's one of the newer members of the department, but she's as sharp as a tack. Spock knew he wanted to hire her from the moment he laid eyes on her. In fact, five minutes after Uhura's interview began, Spock emerged from his office and told a whole room full of eager, bushy-tailed applicants to go and "procure other means of employment," as there was nothing left for them here. Uhura had just sat in the chair with her legs crossed, peering out at the poor saps and smiling her strange, Mona Lisa-like smile.

Jim is pretty sure those two are always half a second away from getting it on in the supply room, if they haven't done so already.

Gary's grin is blinding, even from halfway across the room. "All of the city's active departments could use some sprucing up, budget-wise, which is why we're here. Our job is to work closely with you all, side by side, to find proactive solutions for greater internal efficiency and a higher quality of public service."

"So, in other words, you're firing us all," Uhura mutters.

"No!" Pavel exclaims. "I cannot get fired! I'm saving for a bearskin rug!"

"No one is getting fired, I can assure you," Gary says. "There will be some adjustments over time, though it's nothing that we can't make happen through teamwork and dedication." He grins maniacally again and then pauses as he gestures to Leonard. "Now, I'm more of a big picture guy, so Leonard here will be more than happy to go over some details with you."

Jim exhales. "Big picture guy" clearly means I don't like giving out bad news. And did he nail it, or what?

"Thanks for dumping the hard part on me as usual, Gary," Leonard says. Jim almost laughs but he's too busy swooning over the sound of that gruff, Southern twang, which goes right to his happy parts. For a moment, he thinks maybe having this guy around won't be so bad.

But then he keeps talking.

"We'll be going over the specifics with Mr. Spock and Mr. Kirk later," he continues, "but suffice it to say that all of Enterprise's departments will be facing budget cuts of forty to fifty percent over the next two years."

"Wait, what?" Jim asks, jumping up. "That's—our budget is already microscopic. You can't do that. Spock, can they actually do that?"

Spock arches one perfect eyebrow as he looks at Jim.

"Personally, I feel that government is a flawed entity at best," Spock says, sitting primly at his desk. "Despite my position as the parks department's director, I am a libertarian. I believe that self-reliance is key to existence, which does not account for bloated, oversized government programs. Right now, I'm feeling…" He tilts his head slightly. "…Rather titillated."

Gary digs into his pocket and pulls out a pill dispenser. "This can be an extremely stressful job. Luckily, I have Leonard by my side. And a variety of herbal supplements to enhance my mood." He holds up a capsule and swallows it down quickly. "St. John's wort. Extremely effective."

"You know, we got off on the wrong foot out there," Jim says, once he and Spock are seated with Leonard at a table in a private room. Outside, Scotty and Pavel are listening to Gary with rapt attention as he explains what each pill and supplement in the pill divider is for; Jim figures that might take hours. Uhura sits at her desk, filing her nails and ignoring the phone, just as Spock has taught her to do. She does venture a glance toward the conference room now and then. Jim tries to ignore them all and focuses his attention on Leonard McCoy instead—he of the scruffy but chiseled jawline and slightly rumpled, terribly ugly tie. "Let's start over. I'm Jim Kirk. Hey, I like your tie."

"Mr. Kirk, let's skip the pleasantries and—"

"Jim." He pauses and smiles. "I prefer Jim. Much more pleasing to hear in a number of scenarios, if you catch my drift."

Spock is going to hurt himself if he rolls his eyes any harder, Jim thinks.

"Mr. Kirk," Leonard continues, unfazed aside from a hint of annoyance in his voice. "It will make life a lot easier if you take this seriously. Now, in accordance with our charge from the city, Mr. Mitchell and I will be reviewing your department's budgetary needs and history, and making assessments and recommendations across the board."

"You know, this is just like the city, to pull this crap on us," Jim huffs. "Parks and recreation is always the first to get cut. That and the arts. So now little Billy can't play outside after school or play the recorder. He might as well start robbing liquor stores."

Leonard furrows his brow. "We're doing this with every department. I can assure you that we're not singling out parks and recreation."

"You guys just won't stop until little Billy has nothing left to live for, will you?"

"Jim, there's nothing we can do," Spock says. "Mr. McCoy and Mr. Mitchell are only here as a formality. At the very least, it's kinder than a memo."

"But Spock, I just finished the budget proposal and everything in it is perfect." Jim lifts the enormous binder at his side, which falls back to the table with a loud bang. Leonard reaches over and grabs it before Jim can stop him.

"And we'll be reviewing that, too. Thank you for providing it."

"You can't do this!" Jim hisses. "The parks department—"

"The parks department is not special, Mr. Kirk," Leonard says, rising from his chair. "And neither is Enterprise. It's an ailing town, saddled with a poorly run government. I'm here to help. Maybe one day you'll come to understand that."

The glare that Jim and Leonard exchange could burn the conference room's twelve-year-old coat of paint off the wall.

"No, I don't know when the last time was that I saw Jim this upset," Uhura says, filing her thumbnail. "Probably yesterday, when there weren't any Twix bars left in the vending machine."

"I cannot lose my job." Pavel sighs and shakes his head. "There are so many things in the latest Sharper Image catalog that I have yet to purchase."

"I was always against the beanbag idea," Spock says, sipping a cup of tea at his desk. "Karma works swiftly, at times."

"Jim, this is not karma. I can't think of one thing you've done recently that hasn't been with the best of intentions. Well, aside from that time you made me drink that leftover bottle of whipped cream vodka that Pavel brought to your holiday party. You know, as a 'social experiment,' even though no one else was there?"

"The experiment was to see if you would do it. I thought I explained that. Jeez."

"Haven't we established by now that after four beers, I'll do anything?"

Jim slumps forward onto the bar and Hikaru pats him lightly on the back. Hikaru is Jim's best and oldest friend, and they have a long and storied history of doing similarly stupid things in each other's company, all the way back to college. Jim did a double major in political science and American history (he tried to triple major but his advisor convinced him not to) and Hikaru went the pre-med route. Today, Hikaru is the best registered nurse in all of Enterprise (according to Jim) and Jim has worked his way through the clusterfuck that is their local government to become the deputy director of the parks department.

Right now, with his kind bedside manner and tendency to drink far too many beers than he should, Hikaru is the best friend a dejected, kicked-down government employee could have.

"I'm guessing Spock is loving this," Hikaru says, after he finishes off his second beer.

"I mean, as much as he can love anything. He seems more serene than usual, which is probably equivalent to jumping up and down for joy, for a normal person."

"Why does he even work there if he hates government so much?"

"He thinks he can rebuild the system from within or something. Unfortunately, he has me as his deputy, so things run pretty efficiently even without his input. But still, he gets to meditate or whatever all day, and I get to pretty much do everything I want to do." Jim shrugs and takes a sip of beer. "It's weird, but it works for us. Plus, I think he cares more than he lets on. He almost shat a brick when he and those auditors found everyone asleep today."

"Well, to be fair..."

Jim flaps a hand and drinks again. "Yeah, yeah, no naptime for adults, I know. But clearly, everyone was tired! It might have led to enhanced productivity later on."

Hikaru narrows his eyes. "You can twist anything around to suit your purposes, can't you?"

"Jim was the captain of our school's debate team for three years running," Hikaru says. "I'm not saying he didn't deserve it. But somehow, he'd always convince everyone else that they weren't good enough to hold the position. By the end of the nominations, they'd all be putting themselves down, crying into their Smirnoff Ices." The bartender passes him a fresh beer and he smiles before glancing back at the camera. "Those poor bastards. It was like a grown-up version of the 'stop hitting yourself' game."

"Yeah, well, tell that to the two horsemen of the apocalypse who destroyed months of hard work today," Jim scoffs. "I swear, one of them was really cute, but he was such a miserable ass. What the hell does someone that good-looking have to be cranky about?"

"Sounds like your office's douche bag quotient has just tripled," Hikaru says.

It surprises no one when Pavel chooses that exact moment to appear at the bar.

"Hello, Hikaru. May I buy you a drink?"

He looks skeptical. "Are you even old enough to drink?"

"Not only am I old enough, but also I have invented a new spirit that the bar owner has agreed to sell. It's virtually tasteless, but extremely potent in alcohol content." Pavel flicks his curls back, leaning against the bar and looking very proud of himself. "I call it 'Vessel,'" he says, with a flourish of his hand.

"Wessel?" Hikaru says, exactly the way Pavel pronounced it. Jim nearly spits out his beer.

"Vessel," Pavel repeats, frowning at them. "I have even made a cocktail to go with it: the Nuclear Vessel."

Hikaru bursts out laughing. "Nuclear Wessel? Oh, my god. No. No. It's too good."

Pavel pouts, takes a sip of his drink, and peers at the glass.

"Clearly, I need to rethink this name."

After that, Hikaru is so amused by the whole "Wessel" thing that he agrees to let Pavel buy him a drink, which Jim knows will inevitably lead to a second and third. And while he can't hold such a thing against his friend, he can be annoyed that Hikaru isn't there to protect him when Leonard and Gary, aka the Brothers Grimm walk into the bar. Seriously, where is he to grind up on Jim and give everyone else dirty, stay-far-away glares when Jim needs him?

Jim cranes toward a large man beside him, as if he can hide behind his burly torso. It's no use, though. He's halfway off his stool when Leonard walks up to the bar, hands in his pockets, and smirks.

"I think you're liable to hurt yourself if you keep doing that, Mr. Kirk."

"Ugh, listen. I know you're all about rules and paperwork and reminding people that they're not special, but we're not at work right now, so please, call me Jim and knock it off with the Mr. Kirk stuff, okay?"

"Okay. Jim it is." He motions to the empty stool where Hikaru was sitting. "Is this seat taken?"

"No. But I'm saving it for someone who isn't a bureaucratic butt-licker, so. Sucks to be you."

Leonard takes a deep breath and tilts his chin up. "I admit, we got off on a bad foot earlier. I might have been a little harsh."

"Look," Jim sighs, swigging from his beer. "You can talk to me however you want. But this is my department. And the people who I work with are amaz—okay, perfectly adequate at their jobs. And you're threatening their livelihoods. I'm not just going to take that lying down."

"And that's admirable." Leonard takes the seat, despite what Jim just said, and motions for another round of what Jim's having. "I completely understand that you want to save your department. And while, yes, there will be cuts, my job is to salvage as much of your budget as I can—not to just come in with a blowtorch and burn everything to the ground."

Jim gives him the side-eye. "You sure? 'Cause you sorta look like a pyro. I can see the crazy glint in your eyes."

Leonard actually smiles at that, much to Jim's surprise. It's a wry, fragile little twist of his lips, and it makes Jim's heart skip a beat. He drinks more to drown any other unnecessary feelings in alcohol.

"I'm sorry I made you feel threatened," Leonard says. The alcohol brings out the gruffness in his voice, as well as his accent, and isn't that just peachy? "But really, Jim, this is the city's fault. When I said that Enterprise wasn't special, I meant that it's not the first time I've seen a town buckle under its own weight, and it won't be the last. Believe me; I know firsthand how difficult it is to manage government finances."

Something dawns on Jim, then, and he has to stop and gather his wits to place the stray thought. But then it hits him. He gasps and points at Leonard.

"Holy crap. You're Lenny McCoy."

He purses his lips and nods. "Guilty."

"I was the boy mayor of Fowler, Georgia," Leonard admits, away from the bar. "Tiny town where the people don't really know any better, and so I ran for office the year that I turned eighteen and actually got elected. Not a lot of people outside of Fowler remember it, but I shoulda known that Jim would." He looks back and spies Jim still at the bar, furiously scrolling on his phone. Leonard looks at the camera again with a resigned expression. "He's looking it up on Wikipedia right now, isn't he?"

"Oh, my god. Your campaign slogan was, 'Vote for the real McCoy.' Oh, my god, your campaign theme song was 'Believe' by Cher."

Leonard looks like he wants to rip Jim's smartphone right out of his hand. "Great, we've established that you know how to read. You can be kind of an infant, you know that?"

"No, but seriously," Jim says. He might be on the verge of hyperventilation as he leans toward Leonard. "Do you believe in life after love?"

"It was a big hit that year and my mom was my head campaign strategist, okay?"

Leonard restrains himself from taking the phone away, but he does reach out and touch Jim's hand, urging him to put it down. Jim does so and ignores the tingle he feels when Leonard's fingers leave his skin.

"So I'm guessing it didn't end well," he ventures, peeling back the label of his bottle.

"You could say that," Leonard drawls. His shoulders slump as he recalls the memories; clearly, they're not happy ones. "I drove the town into the ground, bankrupted it completely, and got laughed out of office. Laughed out of Fowler, at that. Everyone knew my face and my name, and no one wanted anything to do with me. My mom couldn't even show her face at Kroger." He gulps from his beer and stares off into the distance. "By the time that town was done with me, all I had left was my bones."

Jim tilts his head. "You're pretty melodramatic, aren't you?"

"The point is, I needed to start over and show everyone that I can be responsible. So I laid low for a while, got a couple of degrees, and now I'm doing this: working with towns in financial distress, to help their governments get back on track and fix their budgets."

"So, you're right; you do have firsthand experience," Jim says. He feels an unexpected burst of sympathy for Leonard, and also a hint of respect bubbling to the surface. "I remember hearing about you, back in the day. I've always wanted to hold public office. I was super jealous of you, that you got to do it at that age."

"It was arguably the worst thing that ever happened to me," Leonard says. "Though maybe also the best, 'cause I learned the importance of making tough decisions. And that's something you're gonna have to learn, too, Jim."

Jim sighs and picks up his beer again. "Okay, fine, but do I have to learn right now? I'd much rather sit here and get blitzed instead of contemplating the upcoming decimation of my office."

"I can do blitzed," Leonard says. They exchange small, tentative smiles.

Jim cups his hands to his mouth and wiggles one palm to make his voice reverberate as he sings. "Do you belieeeeeeve in life after love?" He giggles and snorts into his hands. "Jesus H. Christ. If this dude is sticking around, I have got to invest in a vocoder."

Leonard sighs as "Believe" blasts from the bar's jukebox speakers.

"You know, it was also my senior prom song." He makes a sour face. "That night didn't go well, either."

The next morning, Hikaru walks into Jim's office, shuts the door carefully behind him, and sits down in the guest chair without saying a word.

"You know, if you're going to barge in here like that, you could at least bring me a mochaccino," Jim says.

Hikaru squints. "So, I'm pretty sure I kissed someone last night. But I cannot, for the life of me, remember who it was."

"How do you know?"

"Beard burn," he says, touching his jaw. "Not only can I not grow a beard of my own, but the skin there is super sensitive, too. Thanks a lot, genetics."

Jim grins and finishes off the email he's writing to Spock, and then fires it off. Spock hates receiving email, which is why Jim does his very best to send him as much of it as possible. Even if it's just, GOOD MORNING, SPOCK! CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOU AT THE MORNING CHECK-IN! I BROUGHT SCONES!!!!

Because Spock especially hates emails littered with exclamation points.

"Well, my first guess would be Pavel, considering how many drinks he bought you last night, but he's—"

"As hairless as a newborn rodent, I know." Hikaru sighs. "I know it wasn't you. I know what it's like to kiss you."

Jim points a finger. "We don't talk about that."

"And I'm pretty sure it wasn't Scotty, considering that I don't look, taste, or feel like a foot-long hero."

"Okay. And it definitely wasn't Bones, because he was talking to me all night." At Hikaru's confused look, he shrugs. "Leonard, I mean. I've decided to call him 'Bones.' For funsies, and because I'm sure it'll tick him off."

Hikaru leans forward, looking suspicious. "You talked to him all night? And you have a nickname for him now? I thought he was an ass and that you didn't like him."

"Well, you know." Jim fiddles with one of the many doohickeys on his desk. "I don't particularly care for him. But we talked and…he's not as much of an ass as I previously gathered. Just, like, a little ass. A miniature one that farts at you occasionally about fiscal responsibility."

Hikaru pulls a face. "Sounds charming."

"Jim Kirk!" Gary exclaims, radiating vitamin-enhanced sunshine as he bursts into Jim's office. "I received your email this morning about the morning departmental meeting and I would love to attend. I'm extremely excited about the scones."

Jim makes finger guns at him because, well, what else can he do, really? Gary mimics the action and turns to leave, but then he spots Hikaru and stops in his tracks, smiling almost…shyly?

"Hikaru Sulu, right? From the bar last night?"

"Oh…right!" Hikaru says, laughing awkwardly.

Jim clenches his hands into fists on the desk.

"Help me," he says, blinking at the camera. "Hikaru and Gary Mitchell. Best random hookup ever."

"Gary Mitchell?" Hikaru asks. He blinks and starts typing into his phone. "I've got to write that shit down."

Pavel glances into the adjoining office and pouts. "Three drinks and this is how he repays me: by making out with Gary the lunatic." He pauses and crosses his arms. "It was not unpleasant to watch. But still."

Uhura peers into Jim's office, ignoring everyone else there. "Jim, just so you—"

"Uhura!" Gary says. "So wonderful to see you. You know, I never did catch your first name."

"It's not important."

"Well, I suppose I can look it up in the city records," he says. "But I understand your inclination for privacy. We can never be too careful in this day and age. Hikaru Sulu, I'll see you later?"

"Sure, um…" Hikaru looks up and sees Jim mouthing a name at him. "Gary. See you."

Jim smiles after Gary leaves. "Okay, that's way better than a mochaccino. I've never been so happy."

"You're about to be less happy," Uhura says, stepping forward. "Gary and Leonard tapped Spock to be on a budgetary subcommittee. He won't be coming to the morning meeting today."

"Spock, on a budget committee?" Hikaru repeats. "That can't be good."

"But…but I brought scones," Jim says, deflating.

"Okay, this may not be as bad as it seems." Jim taps his pen against his desk and forces a smile. "Yes, Spock is totally against any and all government spending. But he wouldn't let any of his colleagues come to harm. No way." He drops the pen and chews lightly on his knuckles. "I think."

"So, bottom line is that we're going to have to cut all departmental budgets by thirty-four percent across the board." Leonard clicks to the next slide of his PowerPoint and leans back against the desk situated at the front of the room. He folds his arms across his chest; his shirtsleeves are pushed halfway up his arms. "Tough pill to swallow, I know."

"Speaking of pills, would anyone like an herbal supplement?" Gary asks. He holds an open bottle out to everyone in the room. "Anyone? They'll enhance your mood."

Spock raises his hand primly. "Perhaps we would function at an even higher level of efficiency with forty percent worth of cuts."

Leonard frowns. "I think thirty-four should do the trick, Spock, but thanks for your enthusiasm."

"I maintain that it is an experiment worth pursuing."

"My dreams of a smaller, leaner government body are coming true," Spock says outside of the meeting room. He adjusts his tie. "And I will be integral in seeing it through to fruition. I'm not one for elaborate shows of emotion, but in this case, I will make an exception."

One corner of his mouth begins to curl minutely.

"Indeed, I am ecstatic."

"Now it's time for the parks and recreation department, the greatest department in all of Enterprise."

"Gary, stop saying that about every department," Leonard sighs. He brings up the next slide and goes through his notes. "Now, we have a…very extensive list of proposed cuts from Mr. Spock—thank you again for your zeal in this situation, Mr. Spock. But they're not quite enough to do the trick. So I'm proposing that we make one significant job cut in this department: James T. Kirk."

Spock goes rigid in his seat, any semblance of his previous pseudo-smile vanishing. "That is an impossibility, Mr. McCoy."

"Not really, because I just said it, Mr. Spock."

"I object to this." Spock stands and strikes an imposing silhouette, his arms firmly set at his sides. "Jim Kirk is an exceptional government employee and a brilliant deputy director. He does the majority of the work. To lose him would be akin to losing the entire parks department."

"Look, Spock—Mr. Spock, whatever," Leonard says, stifling a groan as he runs a palm over his face. "I can appreciate your loyalty to Mr. Kirk, as well as the fact that he's a good employee. But every department is losing a Jim Kirk. He's not special."

"That's where you are wrong," Spock says gravely. "And while I see the irony in my plea to retain a government job, I can assure you that to lay off Jim Kirk would be a severe injustice, the likes of which would affect the entire township of Enterprise, due to all of the diligent work he does to serve our citizens. I am willing to work with you on alternate solutions and I am requesting that you reconsider." He purses his lips and flexes his fingers at his sides. "Please do not make me ask again."

Gary sniffles in his seat besides Leonard. "This is going to make me cry." He wipes at his eyes. "Okay, no, too late."

Leonard looks between them and takes a long, deep breath.

"Okay, I'll find another way," Leonard grumbles. He points at the camera. "But the last thing I need is all these other departments finding out, so don't tell anyone about this."

Spock stares grimly at the camera.

"Do not tell anyone about this."

Jim looks up as a new email pops into his inbox. "Hey, a message from Spock. He…wants me to take over for him on the subcommittee. I guess that means I get to keep my job. For now, anyway."

He smiles momentarily and then opens a desk drawer, pulling out a massive binder and clutching it to his chest.

"Budget cuts idea binder. I started brainstorming early. Just in case." He reaches over and presses a button on his desk phone. "Uhura, cancel all my afternoon meetings."

"I don't work for you," she spits back.

"Yeah, okay, thought I'd give it a shot."

"Good morning, everyone!" Gary exclaims. He sets a giant tray of bagels with a variety of flavored cream cheeses in the middle of the main conference room table, along with a giant vat of coffee from a nearby chain. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so go on; eat up!"

"What's all this for?" Jim asks. He's pretty sure he knows, though, once he catches sight of Leonard skulking by the door. He's looking particularly rumpled and cranky today, watching silently while everyone stuffs their faces full of boiled dough.

"Just showing some appreciation for my favorite department in all of Enterprise."

"Gary," Leonard sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Scotty looks up from his food, his mouth smeared with blueberry-flavored cream cheese. "Brilliant of you, Gary. I could get used to this!"

"Dear god, no," Uhura mutters. She pointedly hands Scotty a napkin—or, well, presses it to the sticky part of his face as he chews. Then she walks over to Jim and offers him a plain bagel, no cream cheese. He shrugs and shakes his head.

"You don't like bagels?" Leonard whispers.

"I'm allergic to flavored cream cheese."

Sure enough, Gary seems to have forgotten to buy plain, regular cream cheese. Leonard glances around the table. "Which one? We can make sure there's no cross-contam—"

Jim frowns. "All of them."

"Foods I'm allergic to," Jim says, taking a deep breath and counting on his fingers. "Flavored cream cheeses, tree nuts, peanuts and peanut butter, shellfish, most types of melons, strawberries, soy…" He shakes his head. "Honestly, it would be easier to make you a list of things I'm not allergic to. My mom and I were regulars at the ER until I was about five. And even after that, we stopped by a few times each year." He pauses, looking proud. "They named a room after me."

"How can someone be allergic to all types of flavored cream cheese?" Leonard asks, bewildered. "I'm afraid to even breathe near this guy. He might break out into hives."

"Anyway, gang, great to see you, but I gotta run," Gary says.

"What a shock," Uhura deadpans, delicately spreading chive cream cheese on her bagel.

"There are a few important citywide updates you need to know, so I'll let Leonard take it from here. Leonard?"

He claps Leonard on the shoulder and exits the room, fast enough to leave skid marks.

"Yeah, well, as Gary so helpfully pointed out before fleeing the building, there's some bad news in light of the recent budget cuts." He hands out pamphlets and Scotty immediately gets creamy fingerprints all over his copy. "All you'll be doing until further notice is basic maintenance of all of the city's parks. You can think of it as 'maintenance mode.'"

"Sounds exciting," Scotty quips. Spock just sits there looking as pleased as he has been for the past few weeks. It's enough to drive Jim insane.

"Maintenance mode? No, no, no. What about my budget plan?" Jim asks, stepping forward. "What about all of the ideas I had? I mean, I know it was a lot to digest at once, but I can boil it down to the main bullet points and—"

"That won't be necessary," Leonard drawls. "The entire city's at a standstill right now, but we're working on it. So just do your jobs and sit tight. Okay?"

"Sit tight?" Jim repeats.

"Jim," Spock says, piping up. "Would you like to use some of my blueberry and chia seed jam on a bagel? It's vegan."

He gets a scowl in return. "Are you trying to hurt me?"

"Am I surprised that Jim's upset with me? No." Leonard scratches at his stubble as he stands outside the parks department door. "Honestly, I'm used to people being mad at me. My hometown, my ex-wife, and pretty much everyone Gary and I meet these days. We used to work separately but now we act as a team, so people aren't as quick to draw knives on us." He glances down at his phone when it beeps. "Of course, no one's ever been as liberal with their text messages as Jim." He flashes the screen's 17 new text messages notification at the camera and grumbles as he walks away. "I'm gonna have to change my billing plan."

"So all of your programs have been shut down? That's horrible."

Hikaru glances outside of Jim's office, at the long line of people waiting to enter complaints to the department. It's Pavel's shift up front and he looks like he's three seconds away from fashioning a murder weapon out of a staple remover.

Jim props his chin up with his fist. "Tell me about it. I've never been good at dealing with bureaucracy and red tape. Granted, that probably means government work wasn't the best choice for me," he says, and Hikaru nods thoughtfully. "But the parks department used to be totally kickass. They were always doing cool stuff when we were kids, remember? Like the Summer Carnival and the Harvest Festival…the First Flakes Fiesta. And now we can't do anything but sit around with our thumbs up our asses, waiting for these jerks to dissolve the department entirely. 'Cause I'm pretty sure that's what they want to do."

"I remember that last one getting shut down for a good reason."

"The First Flakes Fiesta was held each winter to celebrate the first snowfall," Jim explains. "One year, they underestimated the amount of snow, and uh…let's just say that it took a while to dig out five hundred cars from under five feet of snow. Also, the mayor's dog was sitting in the backseat of his Range Rover." Jim shakes his head, looking grim. "Rascal was never quite the same after that."

Spock peers into Jim's office and looks around.

"Good morning, Jim. Male Nurse."

Hikaru sighs. "My name is Hikaru, Spock. I'm pretty sure you know that."

"It doesn't roll off the tongue in quite the same way." Spock turns to Jim. "Gary Mitchell is here, ostensibly to speak with someone from the department. I would prefer that it be you."

Jim can't help but laugh. "Send him in, then."

A few moments later, Jim hears the distant bang of Spock's door slamming shut, which means he's barricaded himself in his office, away from people. When Gary enters, he's all smiles as usual. And, of course, there's Leonard behind him, the dark cloud that trails behind Gary's herbally enhanced rainbow.

"Jim Kirk. Hikaru Sulu. How are you doing on this fine day? I wanted to check in and make sure everything was in order and that the pamphlets we handed out made sense to everyone."

"We're doing just swell," Jim says, faking his own smile. "The pamphlets are great, everything's great. That is, aside from the huge group of people here to complain that we cut all of the parks and recreation programs that they so sorely depend on."

"I wish there was something we could do about that," Gary says, looking forlorn. "Leonard, is there anything we can do?"

Leonard gives him a death glare. "No."

"That's a shame." Gary smiles anew at Hikaru. "Can we talk for a second?"

"Sure," Hikaru says, glancing around. He walks out with Gary, leaving Jim and Leonard alone in uncomfortable silence.

"Listen, Jim," Leonard starts to say. "About this morning—"

"Save it, Bones," Jim snaps.

"Bones…?"

"Everyone here is hip to your little game, okay? So stop trying to be nice to us, with your bagels and your 'sit tight' crap, because we're the ones who have to deal with the consequences of your slashing and burning."

Leonard frowns. "I wasn't the one who bought the bagels."

"Tell me about it. On top of everything else, you're a cheapskate, too."

"Damn it, you…" Leonard pauses as his face turns red, but then he turns and leaves the office without another word. Jim smirks toward the doorway.

"Did you notice that Bones' voice gets a lot more Southern and growly when he's feeling surly?" He smiles smugly. "Because I did."

"That man is impossible," Leonard sneers, stalking down the corridor. "I mean…damn it. No comment!" His phone beeps in his hand and he shoves it into his bag without looking at it.

"Here are the reasons I think you should go out with me," Gary says to Hikaru. "I'm smart, I have a good job, I come from an excellent gene pool, and I have only three percent body fat. Also, I'm a speed-reader. I can read three books in one sitting."

"That…is very impressive," Hikaru says, laughing faintly. "But I still don't think it's a good idea."

"You seemed very amenable that night at the bar, when you shoved your tongue down my throat."

"I was a little drunk. Pavel had bought me a few too many rounds."

"Pavel Andreivich Chekov?" Gary asks, smiling broadly. "Wonderful young man. Is it that you were hoping to go out with him instead? Because I would be completely fine and excited about that."

Hikaru wrinkles his nose. "Thanks, I guess. Wasn't really looking for your approval, but…no, it's not about that."

"Well, in that case, think about it. In the meantime, I'll work on a new list of reasons, so that my argument doesn't grow stale."

Hikaru doesn't know what to say to that, so he simply nods and waves as Gary takes his leave from the courtyard. When he turns around, Jim is already standing right behind him and waiting, his blue eyes bright.

"Oh, god, I hate when you do that," Hikaru says. Then he gets a look at Jim's mischievous expression. "Wait, what is that look?"

Jim slings his arm around Hikaru's shoulders. "Hikaru, old buddy, old pal. You are going to do me a solid."

"Oh, no. No," he repeats, already reading Jim's mind.

"Oh, yes. And don't worry; it's gonna be great. You'll just lay back, close your eyes, and think of the parks department."

Hikaru curls his lip. "I've had sexier thoughts."

"Great!" Gary chirps into the phone. "Wonderful. Pick you up at seven."

He hangs up and walks from his own spotless office into the adjoining office, where Leonard sits, disheveled and surrounded by paperwork.

"Change of plans, Leonard. I'm leaving early today to run some errands, as I now have a dinner date with Hikaru Sulu. So, don't stay too late and I'll see you in the morning."

"Great, have fun with that," Leonard mutters, not looking up.

It takes about ten seconds after Gary's left for Leonard to mentally put the pieces together. When he does, it involves a lot of flailing and papers flying into the air.

"Wait, you—ugh, damn it, Jim!"

Of course, when Leonard gets to the restaurant, Jim is sitting at Gary and Hikaru's table, having already infiltrated this supposed "dinner date." Everyone looks up in surprise when he approaches the table. Jim tenses and glares at him. Clearly, this has thrown a wrench in his plan.

"What a coincidence!" Gary exclaims. "First Jim and now Leonard! Have a seat. I was just telling everyone about the deep-sea diving class I took that changed my entire outlook on life."

"As much as I would love to hear that story for the eighth time," Leonard huffs, "I'd like to have a word with Jim. In private?"

"I'm sure this won't take long," Jim says, waving a hand.

He's not quite prepared for the way that Leonard explodes on him when they're alone, standing in the alcove by the restrooms.

"I've seen a lot of underhanded tricks in my day, but this is pretty goddamn low, Jim. You're supposed to be a professional. I expected more from you."

"Hey, I'm not doing anything!" Jim counters, his eyes blazing. "I'm just setting up two beautiful people so they can have crazy hot sex and fall madly in love. And, you know, if that means some money happens to fall into the parks budget, then that's just good news for everyone, isn't it? Then their uber-attractive offspring can play in parks that are open and thriving and full of beautiful fucking flowers!"

"I'm shutting this down," Leonard growls, making his way back to the table.

"BONES! I will jump on your back! Don't make me jump on your back!"

Leonard doesn't listen. Jim, having warned him fully, runs up to him and jumps on his back. The shock of it makes Leonard's knees buckle and they fall right into Hikaru and Gary's table.

"Holy crap!" Hikaru says. "Are you guys okay?"

"Peachy," Leonard grits out, with Jim's weight still firmly on top of him. There's red wine splattered all over his shirt and tie. "Gary, you should know, this isn't—"

Jim clamps a hand over his mouth, interrupting him. Leonard's eyes go wide when he feels damp breath against his ear—a not altogether unpleasant sensation, but very weird when coupled with the sight of Gary's wide eyes peering down at him in alarm.

"Come on, Bones, be a pal," Jim whispers. "I think they actually like each other, and it'll break his heart. Please don't say anything? For Gary's sake, if not for mine. Please? Please, please, please?"

Leonard shuts his eyes and somehow resists the urge to bite Jim's fingers, up until the moment he pulls them away.

"We're, uh, fine," he gets out after a moment. He pushes Jim off him and pats awkwardly at his damp shirt. "Sorry for spilling your drinks."

"Quite all right," Gary says. "As long as you're both okay. What were you going to say before that I should know?"

"Just that…" Leonard looks over his shoulder at Jim and scowls. "The sea bass is great here. So I've heard. You should, uh, get it."

Gary points a finger at him. "You? Are a true friend. I will take that into consideration. Thank you, Leonard."

Jim and Hikaru exchange small, nervous smiles.

"I'm not sure how or why Jim got Leonard to do that, but I'm pretty grateful," Hikaru says. "Crazily enough, I think I might actually like Gary. In a weird way, the positivity is kind of infectious."

Leonard stands outside the restaurant, undoing the knot in his soaked tie. "Do I think Jim meant it? No, I think he was trying to save his own hide." He frowns, holding the tie in both hands. "He was right, though. It would've crushed Gary. He's just so damn happy all the time. Hurting him would be like hurting a puppy. A freakish, speed-reading, marathon-running puppy that loves kale smoothies."

"Yeah. It wasn't one of my better moments."

Jim shrugs with both shoulders and licks his lips before he heads down the street, away from the restaurant and toward home.

Jim looks up from his work the next morning to see a very unhappy Pavel standing in his doorway.

"How could you do this to me?" he asks, arms folded across his chest.

"Look, Pavel, I'm sorry I switched out the Diet Sprite from the vending machine, but the truth is, no one drank it besides you."

"No, setting up Hikaru with Gary Mitchell. I have been trying to woo him for months!"

"Well, no offense, but maybe you'd have better luck if you tried something besides getting him drunk."

"Oh, what do you know!" Pavel shouts, throwing up his hands. "All you ever do is have one-night stands!"

Outside Jim's office, Scotty and Uhura pause in what they're doing and turn to stare at them. Scotty looks confused, whereas a subtle smirk plays across Uhura's lips—that amused, know-it-all look she's so good at. Jim grumbles and gets up from his desk, drawing the window blinds shut.

"We keep that on the down-low," he hisses. "I don't need some stuffy higher-up getting his panties in a wad because he finds out I like to have sex. And anyway," he adds, straightening his tie. "It's been a little while."

Pavel furrows his brow. "Since what?"

"Since the last time I did…that." Jim goes back to his chair and sits, clearing his throat. "Been a little busy lately with, y'know, all of the new programs."

"But…we're not doing any programs," he says, his head tilted. "Because of the budget cuts."

"Yeah, but I mean before the—look, do you want my advice or not?"

"I am beginning to think maybe not anymore. You cannot even get a one-night stand. You were once a great sex mentor to me and now I have lost all respect for you."

"My advice is—wait a minute, sex mentor?" Jim doesn't like the sound of that. He cringes and shakes his head. "No, okay, listen. My advice is to be open and direct. Buying someone drinks is just a really good way to go broke. Far too subtle. If you want someone—or something—you have to just go for it."

Pavel considers this for a moment. "I would rather play Angry Birds."

"Okay, you're pretty much the worst sex mentee ever."

"I love the kid, but he needs to learn how to apply himself. No one ever believes me when I say this, but Pavel has a shitload of potential. I'd go so far as to say he's a genius."

Jim looks back and catches sight of Pavel hunched over his computer, clicking around the Armani Exchange website. He whistles as he places a red leather motorcycle jacket in his shopping cart.

"Though not usually when it counts." Jim pauses and smiles. "But our talk did give me an idea."

"You want to do what?" Leonard asks, his eyebrow reaching all sorts of new heights.

"I want to bring back the Enterprise Harvest Festival," Jim says.

He and Spock stand tall before Leonard and Gary—Leonard looking skeptical as always while Gary appears more interested and engaged than any normal human being should. Spock seems bored, as usual, but he takes his cue when Jim nudges his side and hands an enormous pumpkin to Leonard, who is clearly not prepared for its weight and size. A half-second after it's transferred to his hands, it ends up on the table before him with a loud thunk.

"Good god in heaven," he mutters. "What kind of steroid-filled, pumpkin-shaped monstrosity is this?"

"It's one of the many glorious, oversized fruits of Enterprise!" Jim exclaims.

"Actually, Jim, I believe the pumpkin is a member of the squash family."

"Damn it, Spock, I don't interrupt your presentations to talk about vegetation."

Spock purses his lips. "That would be because I leave all presentations to you and your propensity for long-winded oration."

"Whatever. The point is the Harvest Festival is the department's best chance at getting back on our feet while providing a service to the public. With all of our programs on indefinite hiatus, this town needs something like this to get people excited about being outdoors and taking part in their community."

"But Jim, you don't have the budget for it," Leonard sighs.

"That's the brilliant part! I don't need a budget. Well, not a big one, anyway. I know practically everyone in this town, so it'll be a cinch to get local businesses to sponsor us. Plus, we can call on folks to donate items for giveaways, and to set up booths, and to help with set-up…"

At Jim's declaration about knowing everyone in town, Leonard gives Spock a disbelieving look. Spock just nods, looking serene.

"I do believe that Jim is acquainted with almost every person in Enterprise," Spock says, standing in the corridor. "I have never understood his predilection for masochism."

Gary smiles faintly. "This all sounds very exciting, Jim. But…you do realize what could become of the parks department if it fails."

"Yeah, I know. We'll all lose our jobs. Spock will flee to the desert and become a nomad or something, and I'll be crying on park benches in a dirty T-shirt and sweatpants, scaring mothers and their children."

Leonard rolls his eyes. "Glad to hear you've got a backup plan."

"No, but see, that's the thing," Jim says. He takes a step forward, looking as confident and determined as can be. It takes Leonard aback for a moment. "It's not going to fail, because it's a project that the parks department can believe in. I didn't work my way up to this position so I could sign off on park maintenance forms for the rest of my life. I believe in the power of projects like this to bring people together. And, yes, while I am asking for a small investment, I can guarantee you that the dividends will far exceed what we put in." He pauses and places his hands on his hips. "You tell me our town is broke and that we're dealing with a no-win scenario? Well, I don't believe in no-win scenarios. I believe in my department and I believe in the people of Enterprise."

Leonard blinks and lets Jim's words sink in for a few moments. His thoughts are interrupted, however, by the pathetic sound of Gary snuffling beside him.

"Jesus, Gary, are you crying again?"

"I'm sorry; that was just so moving," he says, his voice hitching. Jim hesitates before grabbing a box of tissues and handing it to Gary, keeping his distance as he does so. Spock stares at Gary in restrained alarm, as though Gary is a newborn baby who's just soiled himself. Across the room, Uhura taps a pencil eraser against her lips, looking on shrewdly as Gary blows his nose. "Well, there's no question that we have to do this. We can do it, can't we, Leonard?"

Leonard lifts his eyes to meet Jim's and, once again, is surprised by what he sees. He looks poised but anxious—hopeful, above all. There's none of the usual snarky attitude or blatant disregard for the rules. Leonard can't help but think about to Spock's unexpected monologue about Jim being the heart and soul of the parks department. With thoughtful ideas and demonstrated conviction like this, it's easy to see what he meant.

That doesn't mean things are suddenly going to be all hunky-dory between them, though. Or that he's going to let Jim run the whole damn thing himself.

"Okay, fine," he says, standing up. "But I'm working on it with you. To make sure you stay within your budget."

"Fine by me," Jim says brightly. He rocks forward on his toes and grins. Beside him, Spock's nostrils flare imperceptibly.

"I got my money," Jim says, looking proud. "And I didn't even have to whore out Hikaru to get it. Well, maybe I whored him out a little bit." He scoffs and motions back to the conference room. "Also, can you believe that guy? 'Stay within your budget.' Does he want in my pants big time, or what?"

"Well, what did you expect? I'm not just gonna let him run around on this project without a leash," Leonard says, gathering some papers. He stops and shuts his eyes tightly. "That was a bad metaphor."

Spock goes into his office and slams the door shut, immediately sitting on the floor and folding his legs for his meditation position. Uhura glances at the camera and then examines her cuticles, reclining in her chair.

"If there's anything Spock finds more irritating than big government projects, it's unresolved sexual tension between two people who are clearly into each other," she explains. "The next few weeks aren't shaping up well for him."

The first few weeks of planning happen to go very smoothly and Leonard is as surprised as anyone else. Sure, Jim has his occasional fits of overzealousness—and he has those "occasional" fits several times per day—but for the most part, he has interesting ideas and the savvy to back them up. Plus, the rest of the parks department seems to be behind him one-hundred percent—even Spock, who could probably care less about the festival and wouldn't mind if City Hall was gutted and turned into a giant Arby's.

Speaking of Spock, he's decided to handle this whole 'major government-funded project' thing by indulging in a silent protest.

"Spock, can you do me a favor and call the head of the—"

Leonard pauses when he feels Spock's angry glare burning jagged lines across his forehead. He looks up just in time to see Spock reach into his desk drawer and pull out an honest-to-god protest sign.

The sign simply reads, NO.

Leonard blinks and scowls at Spock as he steps back out of the office and slams the door behind him.

"Yes, it's effective," he admits, standing outside of the office. He looks back and sees Spock meditating through the window. "Is everyone in this town totally out of their ever-loving minds?"

Uhura nods solemnly. "I have my own sign. Want to see?"

She holds it up. It reads, SEE PREVIOUS SIGN.

"Solidarity," she says.

Leonard walks into Jim's office and announces himself with a loud grunt. "Jim, I swear to god, you're the only person in this office who can talk sense. And that's saying a lot. I need someone to call up this guy and—"

He pauses when he actually looks up and sees what Jim is doing, which is nothing. In fact, Jim is slumped forward in his chair, his forehead pressed to his desk calendar, a small puddle of drool forming along the second week of the month.

"Jim! Oh, Jesus. Jim, you okay?" Leonard drops his folders and notepad and runs over to check Jim's pulse, which is very much present. His skin feels clammy to the touch. Jim gives a weak groan in response. "What the hell's the matter with you?"

Just then, Pavel strolls into the office. "Jim, please tell Uhura that it is not 'inappropriate' to hang a hot fireman calendar on the wall by my desk. Firemen are heroes and—oh, no! What has happened?"

Scotty overhears Pavel's outburst and runs into the room. "Oh, dear god, he's having an allergic reaction! Who gave him peanuts?"

"He's allergic to those, too?" Leonard asks.

"Where's the pen? The pen?"

"Do not worry, Jim, we will find it!"

Leonard looks on in confusion as Scotty and Pavel start rifling through Jim's drawers. "What goddamn pen?" he asks, just as Scotty pulls out a gigantic, fuck-off EpiPen and waves it around in Jim's general direction. "Holy shit!" Leonard yells, reeling back in shock.

Jim lifts his head weakly and nearly falls out of his chair at the sight of it. "No, don't—NO!" he cries, grabbing onto the nearest person. It happens to be Leonard, who now has a Jim-shaped barnacle wrapped around his waist.

"Usually you look a wee bit more…puffy," Scotty observes, motioning to his own face.

"Yes, and the blotches," Pavel adds. "Those too, usually."

Jim doesn't look puffy or blotchy at all at the moment—just tired and pale and slightly sweaty around his hairline, with dark circles under his eyes. "That's probably 'cause I'm not having an allergic reaction," he says, slurring slightly.

"No," Leonard says. "What you are is sick."

"Bozhe moi, I need hand sanitizer," Pavel blurts, running out of the room immediately.

"I'm not sick," Jim sneers. He lets go of Leonard, but only after discreetly wiping his nose on his slacks. "I never get sick."

Leonard looks down at the soiled fabric, not bothering to hide his disgust. "Yeah, well. Your lucky streak ends today, I'm afraid, because you just left a snot stain the size of Lake Erie on my pants."

"It's cool," Jim says, struggling to get to his feet. "Send me the dry-cleaning bill. I'll make sure all your pretty bloomers get washed up, noooo problemo."

"For god's sake, Jim." Leonard presses a hand to Jim's forehead and hisses. "You're burning hot."

Jim leers at him. "Damn right I am, and you're not so bad yourself."

"Jim, you're going to the hospital. Clearly, you've been working yourself too hard these past few days. You need to rest."

"No hospital! Just tell Hikaru to come by and drop off a gallon of morphine and I'll be fine."

"I can take him," Scotty says. "Been meaning to go out for a mid-morning sandwich run anyway."

Leonard gives him a perplexed look, then shakes his head. "No, no, I can take him. If he's admitted, I'd like to know right away so I can plan for this event tomorrow with the local business owners."

"That's my event," Jim interjects, looking up at Leonard with too-bright eyes. "Bones, that's…you can't run that; that's my event."

"You're no good to anyone if you're not healthy, you damned fool."

"Noooooo," Jim wails. He clings to Leonard's sleeve and drapes himself along his side as Leonard leads him out of the office. "Bag of morphine or nothing."

"Oh, yeah, Hikaru admitted him," Leonard says, standing in the hospital corridor. "He might have gotten out of it, if not for his 104-degree fever. That and the fact that he started harassing some redheaded kid in the waiting room for 'bogarting all the Lucky Charms.'"

"Okay, I made my decision," Jim slurs, lying in a hospital bed. "I don't want to live anymore. Go on, Hikaru. Pull the plug."

"It's not quite that dire," Hikaru says, checking Jim's IV drip. "Just have to replenish your fluids and work on getting that fever down."

Leonard nods and folds his arms over his chest. "You think he'll be out and about in time for this event tomorrow?"

"No way in hell," Hikaru says. "It's gonna take a few days for this flu to leave his system."

Jim exhales shakily and looks between them with frustration in his blue eyes. It strikes Leonard how odd it is that even when Jim is sticky and pale and incredibly ill, he still manages to look attractive.

"Bones, c'mon," he says. "This guy's a quack. He doesn't know shit."

Hikaru frowns deeply. "Yes, I do. I'm a registered nurse."

"Allegedly."

"Jim, just...take it easy, okay? For once in your life," Leonard sighs. "I've got your notes and I know the project as well as you do. It's all taken care of. I can handle it."

"Okay, fine, but how do I know you're the real Bones and not an impostor, huh?"

Leonard exchanges a confused look with Hikaru. "Why would I be an impostor?"

"'Cause there's another one of you standing right outside in the hall," Jim says, pointing toward the door. Leonard turns and spies a janitor out there, busy at work sweeping the floor.

"Jim, that's the custodian," he says. "And...he's African-American."

"Whatever, I don't see color."

"Goodbye, Jim," Leonard says pointedly, turning to leave. "Get some rest and feel better. Or less insane. Whichever comes first."

Once he's gone, Hikaru goes back to writing in Jim's chart. Jim makes a sour face and fusses with his bed sheets, turning away.

"Jeez, that was the grumpiest candy striper I've ever seen," he grumbles. "Hot, but shitty bedside manner. What's up with that."

Hikaru just purses his lips.

"It's safe to say that Jim is displaying some seriously delusional behavior at the moment," Hikaru says. He clutches his clipboard in both hands and looks back in the room, where Jim is fussing with the television remote, holding it upside down. "It's the fever, though. Soon it'll break and he'll go back to his usual...mildly delusional behavior."

The next day, when Hikaru arrives at Jim's room to check on him, he's not there. Nor he is in the bathroom, under the bed, or even hiding in the closet. He's gone, having apparently checked himself out at the front desk, where no one blinked an eye at the guy with the massive fever leisurely strolling out of the hospital. Not to mention that lobby security footage shows Jim was wearing a sock as a glove on his left hand.

The elderly woman in the next room who has the same flu bug that Jim has, along with a touch of the same crazy, provides Hikaru with some useful insight.

"Oh, I hope you caught him," she says. "He stormed in here and announced that he was the captain of this vessel, and that he needed to confiscate my medication!"

"Vessel?" Hikaru repeats, cringing. "Why didn't you page a nurse?"

"I was much too nervous. He had a weapon!"

His eyes nearly bug out. "A weapon?"

Hikaru sighs and holds up the remote control for the woman's television.

"Apparently, in Crazytown, this doubles as a 'type-one phaser.' And the one in Jim's room is missing, so."

The elderly woman pipes up in the background. "Don't be too hard on him; he was a desperate man! He said it was only set to stun!"

Hikaru pauses and then looks over the remote. "So...which button do you think that would be? Menu?"

"You're kidding," Leonard says into his phone. "I mean, I haven't seen him yet but that doesn't mean he's not running around in the building somewhere. Let me take a look around and—"

Jim breezes by Leonard at that exact moment, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit and stalking down the hall like a man on a mission.

"Actually, I just saw him. I'll call you back, Hikaru." He hangs up and rushes to catch up with Jim. "What the hell do you think you're doing here, Jim? Did the bleach from those frosted tips of yours seep into your brain? And where did you get that suit? Did you go home? Oh, Jesus, don't tell me you held up a Brooks Brothers."

Jim turns swiftly and looks at Leonard with an air of authority. For a moment, he almost has Leonard convinced that he's back to his old self, but he can still spy that telltale glimmer in Jim's eyes that gives away the raging fever burning beneath the surface.

Then Jim opens his mouth and it's game over entirely.

"Bones, I'm glad you're here," he says, placing a hand on Leonard's shoulder. "You did an admirable job watching over the ship but I'm back in command now. You can stand down and get back to business as usual."

"Oooookay, you have actually, utterly, and completely lost your mind," Leonard says through gritted teeth. "I don't know what's going on in that addled head of yours, Jim, but if you think I'm letting you just stroll up to that podium and blow this entire thing in front of all of these people—"

"Oh, we'll have time to talk about 'blowing things' later, Bones. My office? Fifteen-hundred hours? I'll see you there." Jim grins and winks, then tries to walk away before Leonard grabs him by his biceps and pulls him back.

"Damn it, Jim, snap out of it!" he barks. "Don't make me slap you upside the head!"

"Bones, chill," Jim says, laughing. "You're always so wired. Go hang out in the holodeck for a while; you'll feel like a new man."

Leonard throws his arms up in the air with a panicked, frustrated expression.

"And what in the hell is a holodeck?!"

"Jim, Jim, stop," Leonard insists as he follows him down the corridor. "Don't do this, for the love of all that's holy. We need to get at least eighty local businesses to sign on for the festival and you're liable to send them all running for the hills with this 'captain of a starship' stuff. Let me speak this time and then we can set up a follow-up when you're having fewer delusions of grandeur. Or less noticeable ones, at least."

"You're too grumpy," Jim says. "You'll scare them off. Plus, you don't know any of them, whereas I know them all. So give me a little credit here, okay?" He glances at Leonard and smirks cockily. "If I managed to save the entire federation from Romulan warfare, I think I can handle one little town conference."

"Well. There's not much I can say to that, is there? Seeing as how I have no idea what it means."

"Bones. Seriously. Trust me."

Leonard is still pretty sure Jim is liable to fall over at any second, or wind up coughing his lungs onto the stage in front of everyone, but he sucks in a shaky breath and trusts that some higher power will make this work somehow. Also, he says a silent prayer that Jim won't pull out that remote control Hikaru told him about. He really doesn't want to spend his afternoon bailing Jim out of prison.

They enter the crowded meeting hall together and take seats, and Leonard half-listens as Pavel stands to introduce Jim. He fidgets with his tie and steals furtive glances over at Jim, who's still got that glazed look in his eyes. Then, of course, there's the fact that Jim almost nods off twice during the proceedings. What are the chances that no one noticed? Pavel is done all too soon, and when Jim gets up to speak, Leonard shoves his knuckle into his mouth. He bites down as Jim approaches the podium and clears his throat.

Here goes nothing.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jim begins, not even looking down at the notes he and Leonard prepared together. "I'd like to take this opportunity to congratulate you all for attending today's session, and for taking a central role in this historic endeavor. It's no exaggeration when I say that we cannot do this without you. A town is only as good as the people who live in it and keep it thriving, and thanks to you, Enterprise has always been and will continue to be an exceptional place to live."

Leonard looks over at the camera, his eyebrows skewing crazily.

"A fifteen minute speech, with every salient point included, and not one single mention of holodecks or…what did he call them? Oh, Romulans," Leonard says afterwards, standing amidst the many excited attendees. He shakes his head, a relieved half-smile on his face as he speaks. "Jim really is...well, he's something else, isn't he? A royal pain in my ass, for starters. But yeah, definitely something else."

After Jim is done giving a truly excellent speech to the small business owners, he takes a few questions before he begins to unravel, at which point Leonard guides him out of the meeting room. Jim manages about two steps after the door shuts before collapsing into Leonard's arms. Leonard tenses but manages to hold him up, gathering him close.

"Damn it, Jim," he murmurs, sweeping a hand over his back. He can't really help himself; the poor guy is on his last legs, here.

"Taking myself off duty," Jim mumbles into his shoulder. "Doctor McCoy, note the date and time."

"Jim, I'm a budget specialist, not a doctor."

"Bones, then," Jim whispers. "Bones."

"Okay, Bones it is." The stance they're holding is awkward at best, so Leonard does his best to rearrange them before sighing aloud. "Would it be a blow to your masculinity if I carried you out of this place?"

Whatever Jim mumbles into Leonard's shirt doesn't sound like a no, so he leans down and scoops his exhausted body into his arms. To his surprise, Jim doesn't protest at all, but rather curls closer to Leonard's body. As if he actually trusts him.

Jim blinks his eyes open from a much-needed nap and looks around at the familiar surroundings of the hospital. Leonard is sitting in the chair next to the bed, watching baseball on the overhead TV—a sight that makes Jim smile.

"Good game?" he asks, his voice raspy. Leonard looks at him in surprise.

"Not bad. Glad I can finally watch it, now that we've got the remote control back where it belongs." He waves it in the air and Jim groans at the sight, dropping his head back against his pillow.

"I vaguely remember doing something inappropriate with that. But I don't think I want to know. Do I want to know?"

"Let's just say that fever really brings out your overactive imagination," Leonard says, smirking. "Hikaru can fill you in on the rest. Or maybe your next-door neighbor, who you threatened to stun with your makeshift weapon."

"Do me a favor and never tell Uhura about this. Ever." Jim grunts and shifts slightly in the bed. "I don't even remember my speech. I mean, I remember that gave it, but I have no idea what I said."

Leonard shrugs. "You did everything right. You were every bit the talented orator everyone has been saying you are. And we've got more than enough businesses on board as a result. It's above and beyond, so…congratulations."

Jim feels a light blush rise to his cheeks. He hopes Leonard will write it off as a side effect of the fever. "Well…great. That's great."

"It is," Leonard agrees, nodding. "But next time? Have a little faith in me, okay? I'm not a novice at this stuff. It wasn’t worth risking your health—not to mention mine, since I almost had a heart attack when I found out what you did, you idiot."

"Bones, it wasn't about that. If the festival doesn't work out, it's my ass on the line. And my coworkers' asses, at that. So I just need to do everything I can to make sure this thing pans out."

"I can respect that," Leonard says. He tilts his head. "But you're still an idiot."

Jim grins. "Fair enough."

"Glad you're doing better, though. Brought you some things." He opens up a paper bag, pulling out items and placing them on the food tray that sits beside Jim's bed. "Chicken noodle soup, which you should definitely eat; Doctor McCoy's orders."

Jim laughs faintly, ending on a cough. "Aw, Bones, you didn't have to."

"Yeah, well. I don't want to have to carry your dead ass around City Hall again anytime soon, if I can help it. Also, I probably shouldn't be giving you this, but…" Leonard rummages through the bag again and comes up with a bagel, plastic knife, and two small packages of cream cheese—the plain, unflavored kind. "To make up for missing out the other day."

Jim feels something twist in his gut as he looks at the cream cheese and then back to Leonard's face. Maybe he can chalk it up as a strong reaction to the medication.

"Thanks, Bones," he says quietly, smiling much wider than he knows he should. He lifts his eyebrows expectantly. "Would it be asking too much for you to spread it on the bagel for me?"

"Invalid," Leonard mutters, even as he picks up the knife and cuts into the bagel. "Yeah, think I can manage that."

Jim sips water from a straw and smiles at the camera, whispering, "Guys, don't tell anyone, but I think Bones might actually be a softie. A gooey center with a grizzled, thorny exterior. Like a...a talking cactus with cotton candy inside."

"He called me a what? Ugh." Leonard shakes his head and grimaces, then walks the other way down the hospital corridor.

A few days later, Jim walks into the department office, looking healthy and back to normal. Everyone claps upon his entrance, aside from Uhura, who simply looks up from her magazine and nods. Coming from her, it's a lot.

"Good to have you back, Jim!" Scotty says.

"Yes, there is always so much more work to do when you are not here," Pavel adds.

"Thanks, guys. Good to be back."

Spock ventures a foot or so out of his office when he hears all the commotion. "Jim. It is gratifying to see you. There have been many people here the past few days, all needing things. Highly distracting."

Jim smirks. "Yeah, it's such a drag when people need things from their government officials. It's like they can't do anything on their own. So annoying."

"Agreed," Spock says, and shuts himself in his office again.

"Uhura!" Jim exclaims, walking over to her desk. He places his hand on the center of her current page, obscuring the text, and Uhura retaliates by picking up a ballpoint pen and wielding it menacingly. Jim just smiles, undeterred. "Listen. I need you to actually pick up the phone today because I'm expecting some calls from some of the local TV stations about Harvest Festival coverage."

"It'll cost you," she says.

"Grande mochaccino, I know. I got it."

Uhura puts the pen down, placated for the time being. "Who's doing the coverage, you?"

"Yeah, me and Bones, primarily. And Pavel will tag along to help out."

"You're bringing Leonard with you? To talk to media personalities? On camera?"

"Sure, why not? He's a personable guy."

"No, not really." Uhura flicks her ponytail back and gives Jim a pointed look. "You just think so because you want to get in his pants."

"What?" Jim laughs awkwardly and glances at the camera with a shake of his head. "I do not, that...that's crazy talk. I've never wanted any such thing of that nature. I'm not...no, I don't. Pants are just—I mean, what are pants, right?"

She squints at him. "Did I just break your brain?"

Jim lets out another bark of laughter, shakes his head brusquely, and runs into his office to get away from her.

"I broke his brain," Uhura says, shrugging. "That's what he gets for messing with my magazine."

Unfortunately, Leonard himself isn’t too keen on joining in the media blitz.

“I’m not good on camera,” he says, looking up briefly from his paperwork. “Find someone else. Or, better yet, just do it yourself. You know all this stuff anyway. And you’re probably fantastic on camera, what with your…poofy hair and big blue eyes,” he says, motioning idly to Jim’s face.

Jim pats the top of his head self-consciously and tries not to pout. “But we need you, Bones. You’re our budget guy. If they start asking questions about money, what with all the recent cuts, you’re the only one who can back us up.”

“Jim, I’m telling you, it’s not a good idea.” He puts his pen down and sighs, shutting his eyes for a moment. “You may not have noticed this about me, but I tend to have…some anger management issues.”

“You?” Jim responds, all sarcasm intended. “No. You’re kidding. Get out of town. Shut the front door.”

Leonard just frowns. “I tend to have a visceral reaction to obnoxious media personalities, pestering me with probing questions.”

“What probing questions? We’re going to be talking about the Harvest Festival. Hayrides and ponies and candied apples. We’re not Brad and Angelina.”

“Thank god for that.” Leonard rubs a hand over his forehead, already looking frazzled at the very thought of getting in front of a television camera. “Look, I’ll do it if it’s absolutely necessary. But I want to state right here, for the record, that it’s a bad idea and I said so from the start.”

Jim rolls his eyes and pretends to write on an invisible scroll, miming the action. “Okay, great. Noted, on record, with a big-ass quill pen for extra super-duper officialness. Good?”

“Great,” Leonard grunts, going back to his work.

Jim smiles and turns toward the door. “I’d be Brad, by the way.”

“The hell you would.”

“Okay, maybe I was the one being crazy last week but now it’s Bones.” Jim twirls around in his office chair and scoffs. “I dunno what he’s so afraid of. The camera probably loves him and he knows his shit, inside out. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Everything went wrong,” Pavel says, later that day. He’s pacing around the conference room, waving his hands around in exasperation. “It was a complete nightmare! He is crazy, Jim! I cannot bring him onto any other TV show, ever.”

At the far end of the table, Leonard sinks into his chair, arms folded across his chest, trying to avoid everyone’s stares. Jim blinks in disbelief, looking between them.

“I don’t understand. I sent you guys to Christine Chapel’s show. She’s, like, the nicest person on Earth. I actually hesitate to call her a journalist because all she ever asks people about are their diet regimens and their dogs. How did you manage to screw it up?”

“I have video evidence,” Pavel says, holding up a disc. He goes to put it into the DVD player and Leonard groans into his palms.

“Jesus H. Christ. Do we really have to watch this?”

“Yes,” Spock and Uhura say in unison.

So they watch. The footage starts innocently enough.

“Hi, and welcome back to Good Morning, Enterprise. I’m Christine Chapel, and today I’m joined by Pavel Chekov and Leonard McCoy, representing the Enterprise parks and recreation department. They’re here to tell us all about the upcoming return of the Enterprise Harvest Festival. Good morning, you two.”

“Good morning, Christine—and Enterprise.”

Pavel is obviously trying to look as suave as possible for the cameras. Jim supposes that it’s a decent attempt. At any rate, he looks like a suave fourteen-year-old. Beside him, Leonard just sits and nods, smiling awkwardly at the camera.

“Okay, this isn’t too bad,” he comments, just as Pavel starts fast-forwarding. “Wait, what’s happening? What are you doing?”

“You’re right; it was not too bad,” Pavel says. “Until the moment Chapel asked him about his time in office as a teenage mayor.”

“Teenage mayor?” Scotty repeats. “I didn’t know that about you!”

Apparently no one but Jim did. Spock sits up straighter in his chair at the mention of this new and fascinating information. Uhura looks as though she’s just won the lottery.

“Yes, damn it,” Leonard barks at them. “I was the teenage mayor of my hometown. Which I bankrupted completely within six months. Are you all happy now?”

“I’m getting there,” Uhura says, reclining in her chair with a faint smile.

“I can’t believe she asked about that,” Jim groans. “Suddenly she’s doing background checks on her guests? I thought you guys were going to kick back, drink giant goblets of wine, and watch a cat pageant show or something!”

“Yes, well, thank you for not telling me about it in advance,” Pavel says, “so that I had no idea it was coming and could not find any way to prevent this.” He unpauses the disc just in time for the horror to commence.

“Look, Christine. You don’t know me. You don’t know where I’ve been. I mean, look at you, sitting over there on your high horse with your half-caf skinny vanilla what-[BEEP]ing-ever, judging me from your ivory tower. Do you even know what it’s like to be under extreme political pressure from an entire [BEEP]damn town? REAL pressure?”

“They bleeped out the foul words on the disc, though it was a live taping, so,” Pavel says, dropping down into a chair.

“You…look like you’re going to murder someone,” Jim says, watching with wide eyes. “You look like a psychopath. Like you’re going to punch Christine Chapel in the face. Oh, god, please don’t tell me you didn’t punch Christine Chapel in the face.”

“I didn’t punch anyone,” Leonard hisses. “I mean, I did…something. But not that.”

“Oh, god, what?”

“You’ll see,” Pavel says.

Uhura shakes her head, riveted by the screen. “God, I could really go for some popcorn right now.”

“Do you find this amusing? Am I a clown to you? A joke? Did my ex-wife put you up to this? You’ve got some goddamn nerve dragging me on this show and turning me into your pariah, your whipping boy. No way in hell. The whole damn thing’s out of order! No more questions! NO COMMENT!”

Then he stands up and flips the table.

“Oh, my god,” Jim says blankly. “You literally flipped a table.”

“One of the legs landed on Chapel’s pinky toe,” Pavel says with a sneer. “We are lucky he did not break it!”

Leonard exhales. “It’s a goddamn pinky toe. It’s useless anyway. And I already sent flowers, okay?”

“Can I keep that disc?” Uhura asks. “It would look great on constant loop by the entrance to the building. Or on the TV in my living room. Forever.”

“I have to call the station,” Jim says, getting up abruptly from his seat. He doesn’t look over at Leonard as he leaves the room, but Leonard watches him go, embarrassment and sadness in his eyes.

“Leonard,” Spock says, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. “Have you ever considered becoming a libertarian? You would serve as an excellent role model for destroying the faculties of government from within the system.”

Leonard gives him a filthy look before leaving the room as well. “Goddamn smug libertarian ass,” he mutters on his way out.

“I meant what I said,” Spock says, in the midst of typing. “Typically, I’m not one for recruitment or asking others to bend to my beliefs. But I believe that Leonard would make for a fine libertarian, were he not so taken by Jim and his ideals about big government." He pauses and looks toward the wall. "I regret that I’ve never thought to flip over a table myself. If anything, it's an excellent icebreaker.”

Uhura stands in the courtyard and smokes a cigarette, looking sated and pleased.

“I just love cinema vérité,” she says.

Leonard walks into Jim’s office and shuts the door carefully behind him.

“Jim, I’m sorry,” he says. And he looks it, too. His shoulders are hunched and his hands are buried so far down into his pockets, he might tumble forward at any moment from the weight of his own regret.

"Yeah," Jim says, giving him a faint smile. "It's okay, Bones."

But Leonard keeps barreling on. "I mean, I told you I'm not good on camera. I used to be, back before all that drama happened in Fowler, but that was a lifetime ago and now I just get the creeps when I even watch one of those damned talk shows. I'm not good with people like you are, Jim. I can't turn on the charm the way you can. Yes, I can hold my own, but when they start asking questions about the past, I just fall apart."

"Yeah, that much is clear." Jim looks at him sincerely and smiles a little wider, motioning for Leonard to sit in the empty chair beside his desk. "Like I said, it's okay. You told me you weren't equipped to handle the situation and I ignored that. This one's on me. I'm the one who's sorry."

Leonard looks utterly confused. This is clearly not the way he expected this conversation to go. He sits as instructed and toys with the end of his tie, attempting to process this unforeseen turn. "Well…I did say that to you, yeah."

"You did," Jim says. "And I didn't listen to what you were telling me. Forgive me?" He punctuates the question with a subtle bite to his bottom lip. The mere sight makes Leonard think, just for a passing moment, that he might be able to forgive Jim anything. It's another unexpected turn of events, not to mention a strange and slightly scary thought.

"Yeah. I mean, uh. Thank you is what I mean. For the apology. It's really not necessary but, yeah." He scratches his jaw and squints at Jim. "It doesn't change the fact that I probably dealt us a major setback."

"Actually," Jim drawls, smiling anew, "you're kind of a hit."

That makes him stop fidgeting. "Come again?"

"My inbox is blowing up, Bones. Good Morning, Enterprise put the clip online and it's already gone viral in just a few hours. People love you. Everyone wants to know more about the insane, angry dude who lost his shit and flipped a table in lovable, perfectly coiffed Christine Chapel's direction."

"Oh, god. As if I didn't have enough stupid shit on my Wikipedia page," Leonard grumbles. Jim waves him off.

"I'll make Pavel edit it out."

"But…" Leonard thrusts a hand out, shaking his head in incredulity. "This can't be good for the Harvest Festival. It's bad press. It's a PR nightmare, is what it is."

Jim just laughs at that. "Oh, come on, Bones. You and I have been around the block enough times to know that almost any press is good press, unless you say something really stupid about vaginas or something. Sure, everyone is obsessed with you right now. But soon it'll sink in that you were actually on the show in the first place to promote this really cool event. It's still exposure. Hell, we can even capitalize on it." He waves his hand in an arc in the air, as if to paint the picture of a giant, sparkly banner. "Come to the Enterprise Harvest Festival and meet Angry Eyebrows Guy! He'll flip a table and insult that aunt you never liked!"

Leonard huffs. "'Angry Eyebrows Guy.' Is that what they're calling me?"

"It may or may not be a hashtag on Twitter." Jim bites back a grin. "And said hashtag might be trending worldwide. I can neither confirm nor deny."

"Good god." Leonard gets up and runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up even more than it already was. "Well. As long as you're not unhappy about it, then I suppose that's all that counts and everything is fine?"

"Oh, yeah. More than." Jim purses his lips and clasps his hands together, peering up at Leonard with wide eyes. "Thank you, Bones. Thank you for doing me the massive favor of attacking an innocent person on live television."

Leonard rolls his eyes and holds up a hand. "Okay, we're done here."

"Really," Jim adds, relentless as he leans forward in his chair. "It means the world to me, how you went into a blind rage because someone was trying to do her job. It was just the absolute sweetest thing."

"Goodbye, Jim," Leonard says pointedly, slamming the door as he leaves.

Jim looks over at the camera and beams.

"Do I think he set Leonard up?" Spock contemplates it as he blows on a steaming spoonful of lentil soup. "Perhaps. Jim can be very shrewd when he sets his mind to it. He also seems very excited that Leonard is a 'hashtag.' He tried to explain the phenomenon to me but I put a stop to that." He eats the cooled soup slowly and deliberately. "I have a strong sense of self-preservation and he should know better than to test it."

"I got recognized at the deli today," Leonard says. "And at Starbucks. And did you know there's a new Internet trend called 'flipping'? Apparently it's the new 'planking,' whatever the hell that means. Crazy goddamn—"

"Hey, Leonard!" Gary yells from outside. He runs into Leonard's office and upends the table by the door, sending piles of paperwork flying everywhere. Leonard nearly jumps out of his chair at the loud noise the table makes when it crashes to the floor. "Flip tag!" he yells again, and then dashes back out of the room.

Leonard says nothing and simply looks at the camera with cold, dead-inside eyes. They speak volumes on their own.

Uhura savors a slow sip of her grande mochaccino as she watches the YouTube footage of Leonard, then clicks back in the player to start her favorite part again. The video already has close to two million views.

"Thank you, Internet," she says sincerely, as she watches it for the umpteenth time.

"Okay, everyone, the Harvest Festival is tomorrow, and I don't know about all of you, but I could not be more excited." Jim looks around the room at all of his staffers and colleagues, gratified when they actually look to be excited in return. It's hard to get most of them jazzed about anything, let alone a gigantic project that was Jim's idea. "We're all going to have an amazing time, I promise. There'll be pony rides, a giant corn maze, hayrides, games, and a wooden rollercoaster. Even a petting zoo!"

"You'd better not have assigned me to the petting zoo," Uhura says. "Because not even the biggest mochaccino would make up for that."

Leonard looks at them quizzically. "Do you two ever drink anything besides those things?"

"What?" Jim asks. He motions between Uhura and himself. "It's our drink."

"They are full of sugar and empty calories," Spock says, without lifting his eyes from the book he's currently reading. Jim and Uhura exchange a knowing look; Spock is the biggest sip-stealer of mochaccinos who's ever lived.

"I'd rather have a sandwich," Scotty pipes up.

"Yeah, Scotty, we all know what you like. Anyway, as a way of showing you all my appreciation for your hard work and dedication these past few weeks, I thought I'd treat you all to a little surprise, courtesy of our friends at the Enterprise petting zoo."

"Wait a minute," Pavel says, perking up. "Surely you do not mean…"

Jim grins hugely. "Oh, but I do. Making a special guest appearance at this year's Enterprise Harvest Festival, please welcome the one, the only, the adorable and tiny Enterprise town mascot: Mickey Mouse, the miniature pot-bellied pig!"

On Jim's cue, Gary leads a remarkably small spotted pig into the main room of the parks department office. Everyone seems to gasp and jump out of his or her chairs instantaneously. Even Spock drops his book and goes to look—yes, literally drops his book on the floor. Up until this moment, Leonard has been pretty sure that nothing short of a nuclear bomb could successfully drag Spock away from his reading or meditation. The little pig squeals and lets out tiny oinks, happy to be the center of attention, while Leonard stands behind the fray, arms crossed over his chest and radiating skepticism.

"I don't get the joke," he says. "Why is he called Mickey Mouse?"

"It's not a joke; that's his name," Jim says, crouched down on the floor. He lets the pig nuzzle his open palm with his pink snout. "He's the town mascot."

"And he's the greatest," Gary says, leaning down to tickle the pig's belly. He gets a little lick on his chin in exchange and he giggles like a schoolgirl.

"Okay, sure," Leonard drawls, still vaguely alarmed by this mass display of adoration. "But Mickey Mouse is one of the most beloved and recognized cartoon characters in all of history, if not the most. I'm probably breaking some kind of trademark law right now, just daring to utter his name in public. Why not just call the pig Mickey?"

"That's not his name," Pavel counters, pouting.

Leonard points to the pig insistently. "But he's a pig, not a mouse!"

Jim looks at him with a mix of surprise and disgust. "You just don't get it, do you, Bones?"

"No," Leonard says, standing outside of the office, where all the commotion is still taking place. He shakes his head meaningfully. "I don't get it. At all."

Jim's desk phone beeps and he presses the button to answer Uhura's page.

"Male Nurse is here to see you," she says. Jim can hear his best friend's retort of It's Hikaru, for god's sake! in the background.

"Thanks. Send him in."

Hikaru walks into Jim's office a moment later, throwing Uhura the stink-eye over his shoulder. "Since when do you need Uhura to page you regarding visitors?"

"Sorry, man, I'm just swamped right now with all the last-minute stuff we have to do before the festival kicks off tomorrow. Speaking of! There's gonna be a medical tent for anyone who needs it and I wanted to ask if you could do me a huge favor and be in charge of it. For modest pay, but for pay nonetheless. I figured since you have off this weekend from the hospital…"

"Sure, okay," Hikaru says, slumping down in a chair. "Not like I have anything better to do anyway."

Jim gives him a sympathetic look in return.

"Gary broke it off with me," Hikaru explains, sitting in the courtyard alone. "I thought things were going really well. I mean, I even started eating those gross kale smoothies for him. But apparently he and Leonard are almost done with their budget work in Enterprise and he's needed back in the state capital in a few weeks, so…bye-bye Gary." He shrugs dejectedly. "I might have considered going with him if he asked me, but he never did. It's cool, though. I have a really full life here in Enterprise of doing favors for Jim and watching reruns of Living Single while I eat my weight in Toll House cookies, so."

"It'll be fun!" Jim says, nodding. "You'll get lots of breaks to enjoy the festival and go on the rides and whatnot. I promise it'll be a better time than sitting on your couch and watching old nineties sitcoms."

Hikaru glances at the camera defensively. "I don’t do that."

"Sure." Jim checks the medical tent off his to-do list and then stops to think. "You know what's weird? If Gary is almost done with his work here and ready to head back to the capital, you'd think Bones would be gearing up to go back with him. Right?"

"Yeah, I'd imagine so."

"Yeah. But he hasn't said one word about it to me. Though I guess I only found out about Gary because of what happened between you guys."

Hikaru nods. "Maybe you should ask him."

"Yeah, maybe. But after the festival, though." Jim waves a hand dismissively. "There's too much to think about right now and I need Bones' help with all this last-minute stuff, so we'll be too busy to think about it anyway."

"You don't need Leonard's help. This festival is your project, Jim. It's your baby. You put the whole thing together yourself."

Jim scoffs. "So not true. I mean, yeah, I did mostly everything. But Bones has been helping me with the budgetary stuff all along, crunching numbers and keeping us on track. Seriously, he's been invaluable throughout the entire thing."

Hikaru crosses his legs and smirks. "What part has been invaluable? His number crunching or his nice butt?"

Jim turns slightly pink and pretends to bark out a laugh. "Ha, whaaaat?"

"Don't even try to deny it, Jim. I've known you too well for too long, and I know when you're into someone."

"Into someone," Jim repeats, scoffing again. "Please."

"Yeah, just like that," Hikaru observes, swirling a finger in the air. "When you're lying about something. You repeat stuff and you act like the other person is crazy."

"You are crazy," Jim says, putting his pen down. "Yeah, Bones is attractive. I'd have to be blind or insane or dead not to think so. But he's been married before. Remember when he brought up his ex-wife during his Good Morning, Enterprise rampage? He's probably straight."

"I'm pretty sure that no man has ever been entirely straight when it comes to you, Jim. Remember the golf team captain back at school?"

"That guy wasn't straight at all, contrary to popular opinion. But anyway, Bones is kind of like my boss. He has to approve everything that I want to do, so yeah, technically my boss. It'd be inappropriate."

"Or awesome," Hikaru points out.

"I mean, it could be both. And maybe even more awesome because it's inappropriate."

"You do like to live life in the 'wildly inappropriate' lane."

Jim frowns. "It could get me fired, though, maybe. And I love my job too much to risk that."

Hikaru bites his lip. "Yeah. And Leonard probably loves…terrorizing small-town government officials with forms and restrictions too much to risk his job."

"He's very good at it," Jim sighs. "Well, anyway. That's all beside the point. He's probably going back to the capital with Gary soon anyway, or to the next town that needs someone to come and yell at them for spending too much money on fertilizer, or whatever. And I have a Harvest Festival to run, which is going to kick so many kinds of ass on so many kinds of levels."

"A plethora of ass," Hikaru says, smiling. "A cornucopia, even."

"Precisely."

"Is it selfish to say that I don't really want Bones to go back?" Jim asks later, when he's alone in his office. He drums his fingers on his desk and exhales. "Because I am, you know. Selfish."

The next day, the weather is sunny and beautiful for the festival. Jim gathers the troops by the carnival entrance for last-minute instructions and reminders in the few hours they have before the festival opens to the public.

"And Scotty will be taking care of Mickey Mouse," he says, reading the last item on his list. Pavel throws his arms up in frustration.

"Why does Scotty get to be the one to watch him?"

"Because Scotty is just going to be eating all day, which makes him the perfect candidate for staying in one place."

Scotty shrugs and nods. "I do like to eat," he says.

"So, if there are no further questions—or complaints, so don't even try it, Pavel—let's get to work. If any problems come up, you can bring them to Spock."

Spock sits primly at a bench and opens up a book. "Seeing as how Jim has done such a thorough job with this event, as he does with every task, I expect there will be zero problems today. Therefore I plan to finish this book on the nutritional benefits of seeds." He holds the cover up to the camera; it's called Sowing the Seeds of Success. "I may also partake in a Ferris wheel ride. If the mood strikes me."

Once everyone disperses to commence with the final setup, Leonard wanders over to Jim's side. He looks proud as he smiles and Jim feels a rush of warmth wash over him at the sight.

"Gotta hand it to you, Jim; everything looks great. Better than great." He squints as he looks around the grounds, placing his hands on his hips so as not to fidget. "Still, I can't help but get the feeling something bad's about to happen."

"Are you kidding me? Why would you say that? Don't jinx it, Bones!"

"No, what I mean is…" He sighs and motions to himself. "I'm usually the jinx in these situations. Honestly, if I have anything to do with some major endeavor like this, it usually goes down the tubes in the end."

"Like what, when you were mayor?"

He nods. "Yeah. And, uh, my marriage."

"Oh, right, that." Jim looks away for a moment. He wants to ask a million questions about that particular time in Leonard's life—namely, Hey, did that end with a big 'ol gayness confession, or what? Because that would be just great—but he's not quite sure they're reached that level of sharing yet. "How long ago was that?"

"A while. We dated in high school and I married her just before I became mayor 'cause I thought it'd help me in the polls. People kept telling me that voters like to see a family man."

"Wow," Jim says in surprise. "So you were really young."

"Too young. And I don't think she ever liked me much to begin with, to be honest with you. She definitely didn't like me after I was impeached and the whole town turned on me. I tried to make it work, but it was never gonna happen. Just another failed experiment in the end."

"Bones, no offense, but you're being melodramatic again." Jim gives him a sardonic smile. "This is a parks department project, not a marriage. It's going to be an awesome weekend of candied apples, barn animals, and those games where you shoot water into a clown's mouth, not…joint checking accounts and fights in the checkout line at the supermarket. And when it's all said and done, I promise you won't have to sign any divorce papers or fork over alimony payments. Unless you really want to, in which case, you can feel free to singlehandedly keep the parks department budget afloat."

Leonard laughs despite himself and shakes his head. "You always have a way of putting things into perspective, Jim."

"Which you sorely need. I'm probably the best thing that's ever happened to you."

The words come out of Jim's mouth before he can even think about them. They're both stunned into silence for a moment, staring blankly at each other, before Jim attempts to lighten the mood with a nudge to Leonard's bicep and a hint of a smile. When Leonard eases up and smiles back, Jim's stomach does a little flip of happiness.

Then, of course, the moment is thoroughly ruined.

"Are you two just standing there and smiling at each other?" Pavel asks, walking up to them with Spock at his side. "Bozhe moi. Get a room."

Leonard coughs into his fist and turns away while Jim glares at Pavel. "What do you want, Pavel?"

"I have a splinter," he says, holding up his finger. "There is too much exposed wood here and I am not accustomed to that. Everything in my apartment is made of glass or marble."

"Everything?" Leonard asks disbelievingly.

"Well, why are you showing it to us?" Jim asks. "Go to the medical tent and get it removed."

Pavel scowls at him before stomping away. Spock, however, just stands there, looking at Jim and Leonard with an air of contempt.

"What is it, Spock?" Jim asks.

"This is maddening," Spock merely says.

"What is?"

"This." He shoots Leonard a particularly annoyed look before turning away. "Resolve this already."

Leonard blinks at Jim. "What the hell is he talking about?"

"Do I ever know?"

Pavel looks at the medical tent warily. "I do not want to go in there. Hikaru is in there. I will likely just embarrass myself again. Plus, there's no alcohol in the medical tent. It is much more difficult to get boys to talk to me without it."

"Hey, Pavel," Hikaru says when he walks in. "What's wrong? Are you not feeling well?"

"I have a splinter," he says, showing it off. "I made the grave mistake of touching wood."

Hikaru smiles at Pavel's double entendre, as well as the fact that he doesn't seem to realize he made one. He motions to an empty cot. "All right, well, have a seat and I'll get that right out."

Pavel sits on the cot as Hikaru walks off to wash his hands and fetch supplies. "You are here alone in the tent?" he asks.

"For the moment. Uhura's supposed to help with checking people in but I think she's off somewhere else right now. I'm sure she'll come back when the crowds show up and people start having too much fun for her liking."

"She is not a fan of fun, I agree," Pavel says. He watches as Hikaru dabs a cotton swab with antiseptic and then applies it to the site of the splinter with gloved hands. He hisses faintly. "Ow, that hurts."

Hikaru lifts his eyebrows. "Really? Because it shouldn't."

"I am very sensitive."

"Yeah, I got that much about you." He smiles. "Sorry, by the way, for making fun of your cocktail name. I was drunk, so it seemed a lot funnier than it actually was."

"It was kind of funny," Pavel admits. He shivers faintly as Hikaru tends to him with care. "I just did not realize it at the time."

"Well, at least we're on the same page. I'm gonna grab the tweezers to get this out, so you might want to look away, Mr. Sensitive."

Pavel would pout or complain about the nickname but he's sure Hikaru is right, so he shuts his eyes tightly and looks away as directed. He feels the cold metal of the tweezers graze the pad of his finger but then it goes away and there's nothing. "Did you do it yet?" he asks, not yet opening his eyes.

"Yeah, already done and out. Your splinter troubles are over."

Pavel looks down in amazement at his finger. "I did not even feel you doing it. You are excellent at that."

Hikaru grins. "I may have some past experience with first aid. Seeing as how I'm a nurse and all." He gets up to put his supplies away and grabs a Band-Aid for Pavel, bringing it over. "Here, I'll put this on for you."

"Thank you," Pavel says. He looks up at Hikaru and purses his lips. "So. How are things with Gary?"

"Oh, Jim didn't tell you? I guess he can actually keep a secret sometimes." He shrugs as he wraps the bandage around Pavel's finger, smoothing the adhesive pads against his skin. "We broke up. He's going back to the capital soon, so…that's it. Just wasn't meant to be, I guess."

"Oh…really?" Pavel asks, his voice squeaking slightly. He tries his best not to sound or look as pleased as he feels to hear the news. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"You are, huh?" Hikaru smirks at him and throws away the Band-Aid wrapper.

"Da—I mean, yes! Truly. Especially if it has hurt you." Pavel says the words before realizing he actually means them. Hikaru looks at him in surprise, which encourages him to go on. "It explains why you looked so sad at the office the other day. I had been wondering."

"Well, Pavel, that's…really nice of you to say. Thank you. I mean, it was just a short-term, nothing serious, but…I appreciate it."

Pavel nods in understanding and they both look anywhere besides each other before breaking the silence and speaking simultaneously.

"Well, is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Do you think you might like to go out with me?"

Hikaru laughs. "Wait, say that again?"

"I was just wondering." Pavel swallows and shrugs. "It is probably too soon for you, right now. But perhaps some time in the future, I was wondering if…you might want to go out on a date? When you have, um…healed?"

"Uh, yeah, maybe," Hikaru says, quirking a smile. "Probably not right this minute, like you said, but in the near future? Yeah, that could be fun. I'll definitely think about it and let you know."

Pavel lights up like a little kid on Christmas morning.

"'Definitely think about it' is as good as yes, da?" Pavel does a fist-pump and shimmies his hips, which somehow evolves into a full rendition of the cabbage patch. "I have a daaaate, I have a daaaaate," he singsongs as he dances. He abruptly stops when someone walks by and gives him a strange look. "I was not doing anything," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Really."

"I know you probably think I'm crazy," Hikaru says, back in the tent. "And yeah, I probably I am." He gives the camera a confused smile. "But seriously. Who knew that Pavel actually had some game?"

"Jim, Jim, Jim!" Scotty calls out, running up to him out of nowhere. "Bad news!"

"Oh, god," Jim says, looking up from his conversation with Leonard. "What is it? Is it about Mickey Mouse? Did someone mistake him for an ottoman again?"

"No, worse," Scotty says. "I lost him! He was doing just fine and then I went to get a sandwich and left the pigpen door open just a wee, teeny bit, and he wandered out and now he's gone!"

"That sandwich?" Jim asks, pointing to the hoagie still clenched in Scotty's left hand. He reaches out and snatches it right out of his grasp. "Stop being such a sandwich-hoarding weirdo and go look for Mickey Mouse! In fact, everyone stop what you're doing and go look for Mickey Mouse," Jim calls to everyone in the immediate vicinity.

"I'm giving it all I've got, Jim! Hold onto that for me?" Scotty gives the sandwich one last lingering look before scampering off. Jim needs two hands to hold the thing properly, seeing as how it's as big as a baby. He looks down at the soggy, half-eaten mess before throwing it in the trash.

"He'll hate me for that," Jim says. "But it serves him right."

"You see, Jim? I knew something terrible was bound to happen," Leonard says.

"What? Bones, this isn't your fault. This is Scotty's fault for choosing layers of mayo-soaked ham and cheese over the well being of the star attraction of the festival. And anyway, he's just a little pig. We'll find him. Unless someone steps on him by accident; then we're screwed."

"If anyone's bound to step on him, it'll probably be me," Leonard grumbles.

Jim shoves his arm. "Don’t make me slap you upside the head. See, I can threaten people with bodily harm, too."

"Mr. Kirk!" a familiar voice calls out. It's Christine Chapel walking over with her camera crew, much to Leonard's dismay. "I was wondering if we could get some shots of Mickey Mouse before the doors open to the public."

"Uh, well, the thing is, we've got a bit of a—"

"Oh, my god, it's you!" Christine yells, pointing at Leonard. She backs away and tucks her microphone under her arm, putting her fists up. "Stay away from me! I've been taking Krav Maga classes!"

"I'm not going to—oh, damn it to hell," Leonard groans.

"Jim!" Pavel calls out, running over with a brand new catastrophe. "We need you! Spock and Uhura went on the Ferris wheel to see if they could spot Mickey Mouse from the top and it stopped working. Now they are stuck!"

Jim blanches. "How could that happen? We had it inspected twice this past week!" He looks up at the stalled Ferris wheel and spies Spock and Uhura sitting in a car all the way at the top. They both look calm enough; Spock is looking around at the festival grounds, presumably trying to spot Mickey Mouse, while Uhura sits and slurps on a mochaccino beside him.

Christine Chapel rallies her troops. "Looks like this festival is going off the rails. Let's get some footage of the stalled Ferris wheel, guys."

"Seriously, what is it with the hard-hitting exposés these days, Christine?" Jim asks. "You decided to foster a love of investigative journalism right in time for this festival?"

"Jim," Leonard says, stopping him from running after Chapel and her crew. "I'm, uh. I'm gonna hit the road, if that's okay by you."

"What?! No, it's not okay, Bones. What are you talking about?"

"I told you, I'm a jinx." He frowns and loosens the knot on his tie, turning away. "You'll be better off once I'm gone. I'll see you later."

"Bones!" Jim calls out to him, one more time. But it doesn't make him stop.

Up in the Ferris wheel car, Spock and Uhura sit, watching all the commotion unfold down below.

"Looks like Jim is having a rough time of things down there," Uhura comments.

"Indeed. I'm grateful that we're up here, far away from all of it."

"Mmm, me too." She sips her drink thoughtfully and then turns back to Spock. "Still. We should probably try to help, once they get us down from here. For Jim."

"I was thinking the same thing," Spock says. He surveys the grounds again and pauses when he spots a small creature, pointing to it. "Look. That must be him, down there in the corn maze."

Uhura cranes her head to look. "You're right; there he is. I'll text Jim to let him know."

Spock watches as her thumbs fly across the screen of her phone, and then glances over at Mickey Mouse in the corn maze again. He squints to make out exactly what the pot-bellied pig is doing. "He appears to be unharmed. Also, I believe he is defecating."

"No kidding," Uhura says. She sends the text and lifts her chin to regard Spock, a subtle smile curving her lips. "In a way, this is kind of romantic."

"Again, you've read my mind."

Spock lays a hand on her knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, and Uhura holds her drink up, offering him the straw. He takes it between his lips for a slow, satisfied sip.

It doesn't take long before the festival maintenance crew gets the Ferris wheel's generator up and running again, and Spock and Uhura are rescued. They don't seem too unhappy about getting stuck up there together in the first place, much to Jim's complete non-surprise. Scotty and Pavel go and fetch Mickey Mouse from the corn maze, returning him to his pen, and just like that, everything is hunky-dory again. Jim breathes a sigh of relief that it all gets done just in time for the opening, when the crowds start pouring in through the doors.

"See?" Jim says to Christine Chapel, when he catches up with her. "Everything is fine again. Just some small snags that all got ironed out. The festival's going to be a huge success." He clasps his hands together and looks to her imploringly. "So, please, can you do your story about how the festival is going to be a huge success?"

"I was planning on it," she says. "I apologize for earlier. The sight of that man brought back some bad memories for me. My pinky toe has never been quite the same—though I can usually tell when it's going to rain, now."

"Awesome," Jim says. He shrugs and splays his hands. "Look, I'm sorry again about Leonard. I swear to you that he's a good guy. He just has a hard time dealing with the stuff from his past. Once you get to know him, he's one of the greatest people you'll ever meet."

Christine gives him a knowing smile and taps her pen against her notepad as she turns and walks away. "I'll take your word for it, Jim."

He's still thinking about flagging Christine down to ask exactly what the hell she meant by that when Leonard appears in the next wave of people filing into the festival. Jim couldn't be happier to see him back, and it suddenly dawns on him that he actually meant what he said about Leonard. The words linger in his mind as he waves hello.

"Well, look who's back. Decided to stop being such a sad sack and have some fun with the rest of us?"

"It wasn't for nothing," Leonard says, looking around. "Once I skedaddled, you got everything up and running again, just like I figured you would."

"You're a ridiculous human being, you know that?" Jim asks. Leonard smirks at him.

"I'll take that as a compliment, coming from the most ridiculous human being I know."

Jim grins. "Well, now that that's settled."

"Seriously, though, Jim," Leonard says, looking into his eyes. "Congratulations. You did an amazing job. I knew you would, but either way…it's been a real pleasure to watch."

Jim does his best to fight off a blush but feels it creeping up his neck anyway, despite his best efforts. "Well, I didn't do it alone. I had my team and I had you in my corner. As far as I'm concerned, this is your accomplishment, too. So, you know. Go ahead and put this on your list, next to the marriage and the mayor thing. Start balancing it out a bit."

"Yeah, all right," Leonard says, laughing. "I'll consider that."

He puts his hand out for a shake and Jim takes it, reveling in the warmth of Leonard's skin and the way Leonard's fingers grip his own tightly. They end up holding onto each other for a few seconds longer than necessary, and when they finally let go, they each laugh.

"Sorry about that," Jim says, pulling a face. "Forgot for a second that the point of a handshake is that you eventually let go. Duh."

"Yeah, so they say. Listen, Jim, I—"

But Jim doesn't let him finish. It's dumb and it's foolish and totally out of line, but Jim can't help himself—not with the sense memory of Leonard's hand wrapped around his and the tension thick enough to choke everyone in the vicinity—so he leans in and quickly kisses the corner of Leonard's mouth. Just a small peck, really, but long enough so that there's a second or two when they're breathing the same air, so close to each other that the scent of Leonard's aftershave makes it difficult for Jim to think. He steps back, hoping to see an expression of excitement or pleasant surprise on Leonard's face. Instead, Leonard just stares at him, slack-jawed, clearly taken aback and not knowing what to say.

"Um," he says, looking Jim up and down. He glances around at all the people by the entrance, reminding Jim that they're not alone, not by a long shot. It seems to trigger something in Leonard's mind, because he steps back and averts his eyes, as if Jim's just done something unthinkable—at least, that's how it seems. "Congrats again," he says, ducking his head. "I'll, uh, see you in there."

He walks briskly with the crowd, onto the main grounds, and leaves Jim standing there, simultaneously surrounded by people and completely alone. Jim watches Leonard's retreating back for a few moments before swallowing hard and turning to the influx of festivalgoers. He clears his throat, straightens his posture, and slaps on his happiest, most hospitable smile.

"Hi there," he says, once, twice, a hundred times. "Welcome to the Harvest Festival. Hope you have a great day."

"Red tie or blue tie? Or…tie with different types of pizza all over it. Seriously, Jim?"

"Shut up; I love that thing." Jim flips Hikaru off, lounging back in his armchair and paying more attention to the rerun currently showing on the television. "Any tie is fine," he says. "You know, I doubted you, but you were right; Living Single holds up surprisingly well after all these years."

Hikaru puts all of the ties down at once. "Jim, how are you not more excited about this press conference? You said yourself that the city manager is ecstatic about how well the festival went. And since the festival was your idea, it's basically going to be the Jim Kirk Show up in that room. You love the Jim Kirk Show. It's your favorite show."

"Can Living Single be a close second?" He lolls his head against the back of the chair and sighs. "Anyway, you know why I'm not excited."

"I know. But you should just forget about Leonard. He's an idiot if he doesn't want to get together with you."

"I can’t forget about him! He's around all the time with his dumb scruffy face and disheveled clothes, telling everyone they're incompetent with that stupid, sexy, grumpy voice."

"Yeaaaah," Hikaru drawls, glancing at the camera. "He's a real gem."

"Honestly, I don't see the appeal," Hikaru admits. He stands in the kitchen while Jim looks through the piles of ties strewn over the couch in his living room. "I've always thought of Leonard as kind of a strange and scary guy. But it's hard to deny that he and Jim have chemistry." He smiles knowingly. "Even if it's usually the explosive, scald-your-face-off-when-you-mix-the-wrong-things type of chemistry."

"What did he actually say when it happened?"

Jim picks up the blue tie Hikaru showed him earlier and slides it under his shirt collar. "I dunno; it happened really fast. I gave him one little kiss—not even a kiss, really, like a tiny little peck—and he was just like, 'Um, uh, well, see you in there, bye,' and then he ran away. I think I saw him maybe once inside the festival, picking at a funnel cake and trying to hide behind a haystack."

"But he didn't say anything else? Nothing about why he wasn't interested?"

"No, but judging by his reaction, it's pretty clear that he's not into me. Or he's straight, which I told you he probably was from the start." Jim finishes the knot and points at Hikaru accusingly. "This is all your fault, you know. You were the one who convinced me to go for it!"

"Like you really need me to ever tell you to go for something, Jim. Remember that road trip in college, when Olson dared you to drive the rental car off a cliff and then you did?"

"That was different."

Hikaru scoffs. "Tell that to the blisters I got after walking eight miles after that, just to find a payphone."

"It's not my fault you put your cell in the glove compartment."

"Jim," Hikaru sighs. "We're going off on a tangent. The thing is, you put yourself out there with Leonard and it didn't work out. It happens. At least you can say you tried and that's what counts, because it's how you operate: You take leaps of faith. If Leonard can't take one with you…that's his loss."

"Yeah," Jim says quietly, nodding. He supposes Hikaru has a point so he drops it and straightens the tie one last time. "Do I look okay?"

"You look great. Now, let's go bask in your glory."

Jim smiles for the first time all day. "That does sound like fun."

Jim's barely finished saying his hellos to Chris Pike, the city manager, and all the other bigwigs in the room, when Leonard approaches him, looking a little more put together than usual. In fact, he looks so good that Jim's throat goes dry at the sight of him. He's even shaved that stupid scruff. Jim has a fleeting thought that he should run away in order to avoid talking to Leonard. If only it weren't a major faux pas to bail on one's own congratulatory press conference.

"Hey, Jim," Leonard says, holding his hand out. He looks slightly remorseful as they shake—or maybe Jim's just imagining it. "Just wanted to say congratulations again. On everything."

Jim pulls his hand back quickly, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, you said so the other day. More than once."

"I know." He scratches the back of his neck, squinting as though he's trying to piece the right words together. "Listen, about the other day…"

"I don’t really think this is the time. The conference is going to start any minute now and I have to stand up there while Pike talks, so maybe later?"

Leonard buries his hands in his pockets. "Sure thing. Later, then. Whenever you have time."

"Great. See you, Leonard," Jim says, walking away.

Leonard chews on his bottom lip, watching him go.

"I know: I'm a jerk," Leonard says. "What happened? I panicked, is what happened." He shrugs and scuffs his foot on the linoleum tiles of the floor, outside the conference room. "State's been putting pressure on me and Gary to head back to the capital soon and having that in the back of my mind, it just…didn't seem like a good idea. Plus, I don't even know if it's allowed. Gary seems like the nicest guy on Earth, but he's got principles. And rules. Rules I've never even heard of. I'm not allowed to buy orange post-its because he finds them 'abrasive.' Imagine how he feels about interoffice romances?" He looks away, a guilty expression on his face. "In hindsight, I know I should've said all that to Jim, but he threw me off-kilter. He always throws me off-kilter."

Suddenly, someone starts speaking at the mic, asking everyone to find his or her seats. Leonard takes his cue to go back inside.

"I miss 'Bones,'" he admits, just before he walks away.

"So, with these record attendance numbers and exceedingly high revenue, I think we can safely say that the return of the Enterprise Harvest Festival has been a complete success," Pike says. He surveys the gathered crowd, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Then he looks over at Jim and smiles. "I'd like to specifically single out Jim Kirk, deputy director of the parks department, who brought this event back to life and saw it through to fruition. His tireless efforts ensured that the festival was a huge success, and one that we'll see again next year."

Suddenly, the bad vibes brought about by Leonard's earlier appearance melt away and Jim stands tall and proud, basking in the limelight. He looks out at the responsive crowd and spies Hikaru and his colleagues smiling and clapping for him. Even Uhura's deigned to give him a soft golf clap. Leonard is there too, standing all the way in the back, but Jim doesn't let his gaze linger on him for long. He mouths a 'thank you' to Pike in the midst of the applause.

"So, excellent work and congratulations, Jim," Pike continues. "We can't wait to see what you come up with next." He steps away from the podium and reaches out to Jim for a hearty handshake. Jim strides forward to meet him.

And maybe Jim walks a bit too far forward, because when Pike suddenly seizes and reaches up for something to hold onto as he falls, he ends up grabbing Jim's crotch instead of his hand. Jim jerks in surprise as everyone in the crowd gasps. Pike lets go a moment later, clutching his own chest due to the pain, but Jim is pretty sure, from the looks on everyone's faces, that they all saw what happened.

"It's not that I'm not used to people touching my dick," Jim says, standing away from the area where the medics are tending to Pike. His face is still flushed after his embarrassing moment. "But usually, I don't have such a big audience when it does happen."

"Leonard, you have a minute?" Gary asks, peering into his office. Leonard looks up from his work and motions for Gary to sit, which he does, gigantic green smoothie in hand. "You'll be happy to know that while Chris did have a heart attack today, he's going to be just fine."

"Good to hear," Leonard says, giving him a terse smile.

Leonard huffs and folds his arms across his chest, glaring at the camera.

"Sure, I'm glad Pike's gonna be okay." He arches an eyebrow. "But that doesn't mean I'm not jealous."

"The only snag is," Gary continues cheerfully, "that he needs bypass surgery and won't be able to work for a while, due to mandatory recovery time. So, the city has offered me his position in the meantime."

"Oh," Leonard says, surprised. He puts his pen down and furrows his eyebrows. "Are you going to take it?"

"I've already said yes. And I'm wondering if you'd like to stay on and continue working under me. Unless you've had enough of Enterprise and you want to get back to the capital for your next assignment. Either way, it's up to you."

Leonard blinks, taken aback by the news and potential change in plans. "Uh, let me think about it," he says. "I mean, I'm pretty used to traveling at this point but it may be worthwhile to stick around and—"

"Great! Just let me know by the end of this week." Gary gets up, takes a quick slurp of smoothie, and then points to Leonard with a grin. "Big decision! But you'll make the best one, superstar!"

When Leonard looks back at the camera, his lips are puckered, as though he's just sucked on an incredibly bitter lemon.

"So…I guess I might be able to stay after all," Leonard says. He looks down at a recent memo from Jim lying on his desk—LAST-MINUTE REMINDER TO PARKS STAFF: MAKE SURE ALL PETTING ZOO ANIMALS ARE RABIES-FREE, it reads—and then shoots a meaningful look toward the camera. "Guess the only question now, after everything that's happened, is if there's anything in Enterprise worth staying for."

"JIM!" Pavel shouts, barging into his office without so much as a knock. Jim gives him a filthy look.

"I'm not in the mood for any more jokes or nicknames today, Pavel. Seriously, if anyone refers to me as 'The Healing Cock' one more time, I'm going to force him to eat the leftover shavings inside my pencil sharpener."

"No, no, no," Pavel says, shutting the door behind him. "Once was enough for that joke. This is much more serious, terrible news. You see, Gary is taking over as acting city manager in Christopher Pike's place—which means he is staying in Enterprise after all!"

"Uh, okay," Jim says, processing the news. "How is that bad?"

He sighs and slumps down in the empty chair. "Do you not see? Gary broke it off with Hikaru because he was leaving. Now that he is staying in Enterprise, there is nothing stopping them from getting back together!"

"I don't think Hikaru would do that," Jim says automatically. Really, he's barely listening to Pavel and already wondering what the ripple effect of this will be. "Have you heard anything about Leonard? If he's sticking around, too?"

"No, but who cares about Leonard? He is not the cause of my problems, Gary is!"

Jim shakes his head, flustered and distracted. "Okay, well, you know, it'll be fine. Don't worry about it. Just, uh, do your best and…follow your heart."

Pavel stands up and boggles at Jim. "Worst sex mentor ever!" he shouts, before stomping out of the office.

Jim just taps his pen against his chin, lost in thought. "Good luck, Scotty," he says absentmindedly. In the next room, Scotty hears his name and peers toward Jim's office, clearly confused.

"Thanks, Jim," he calls.

Uhura walks into Spock's office and hands him an interdepartmental memo about Gary's appointment as acting city manager. Spock looks it over as she stands and waits, hands perched on her shapely hips.

"You know I detest all memos," he says when he's done reading.

"I know. And I would have shredded it and fed it to Scotty in one of his sandwiches, but I figured this one was important." She cocks her head slightly. "You do know what this means, don't you?"

Spock exhales and pauses the meditation music playing in his iTunes.

"Unfortunately, I do."

Leonard takes a break from jotting down notes for a much-needed sip of his third cup of coffee. When he looks up, Spock is suddenly standing right in the middle of his office.

"Good afternoon, Leonard," he says in a monotone voice. Leonard nearly falls out of his chair.

"Holy—" he blurts out, slapping a hand to his chest. "You trying to give me a heart attack, too? How did you get in here without making any noise? The door was shut, for god's sake!"

"That is of little importance. We need to speak of other matters. May I sit?"

Leonard scowls. "I'm less inclined to offer you a seat than I am to tell you to get the hell out for being a creepy son of a bitch. But I have a feeling you won't listen to me anyway."

Spock proves him right and sits in the free seat without Leonard's assent. "I suspect that your coffee habit might be to blame for your poor manners and temper," he says. "Might I suggest you make the switch to herbal tea?"

"Just tell me what you want," Leonard says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Very well. I've heard about Gary's new appointment. I assume this means you'll be staying in Enterprise as well."

"I haven't decided yet."

That seems to take Spock by surprise—if "surprise" on Spock is indicated by an extra second of hesitation before speaking, which Leonard assumes is fairly accurate. The guy is like a Zen robot sometimes.

"What is there to decide?" he asks. "Given the working relationships you've cultivated and your clear affections for Jim Kirk?"

"That's ridiculous," Leonard balks. It's half-hearted at best. Still, he shakes his head and slurps at his coffee, getting it all over his top lip. He notices a moment later that he's also spilled some on his shirt. He dabs at the splotch awkwardly. "I don't, uh…have affections. For Jim."

"Please," Spock says, his lip curling slightly. "If I lacked the ability to detect bald-faced lies such as that one, I would not have had any success at all working in local government."

"Damn it, Spock." Leonard gets to his feet to close his office door before he resumes the conversation. "All right. You got me, okay? I may have developed some…feelings for Jim."

"Astonishing," Spock deadpans.

"But it doesn't matter because it's probably not allowed anyway and Jim is too damn good at his job to throw it all away on some poor schlub like me." He goes back to his seat and slumps down in the chair. "Yeah, I could stay, but…how long can I avoid the way I feel? I oughta just go back to the capital, get my next assignment, and move on to the next place."

Spock tilts his head. "I suspect Jim would find it unfair of you to make this decision, about what is and isn't right for him."

"Probably," Leonard mutters. He sips at his coffee again. "But I'm right."

A few awkward seconds pass as Spock stares at Leonard in that creepy way of his. Finally, he gets to his feet and straightens his tie with a small tug. At first, Leonard thinks Spock is actually going to let him be, but then he pipes up again.

"I admit I'm not one for…helping others," he says. "However, Ms. Uhura and I are engaged in a relationship of a somewhat romantic nature. And while we both value our privacy, I would not be opposed to bringing the matter to Gary, in order to ascertain his opinion."

Leonard blinks and puts his mug down. "Spock, no. I can't let you do that. It's too risky."

"But if it would clarify things—"

"No, look, just—I'll think about it, okay?" Leonard waves a hand brusquely. "Don't do anything. I appreciate your offer, but…it's not worth it. I'll figure things out on my own."

"Very well," Spock says. He reaches for the doorknob, then pauses and looks back at Leonard. "Just remember that Jim Kirk is my esteemed colleague," he says in a low, monotone voice.

"I'm not entirely sure about this," Leonard says after Spock is gone, his eyes wide. "But…I'm pretty sure Spock just threatened me."

Spock sits at his desk and lifts his teacup from its saucer for a careful sip.

"I'm sure he understood me," he says mildly.

Hikaru wanders into the mostly empty parks office at the end of the day and finds Pavel sitting at his desk, morosely looking through the Tommy Hilfiger website.

"Hey," he says, startling Pavel out of his daze. "I'd ask if you were stuck here finishing up work, but I'm sure I know better."

Pavel blinks and closes the browser window. "I was, ah…debating whether to go home or go to the bar." He glances around the office. "If you are looking for Jim, he is already there for happy hour."

Hikaru shrugs, holding his jacket in the cradle of his hands, hung down below his waist. "Oh, yeah, I know. But he texted me to say that you were still here, so…I thought I'd come pick you up."

"Pick me up?"

"Yeah. Remember how you asked if I wanted to go out with you some time? Well, how about now?"

Pavel eyes him suspiciously. "You must know by now that Gary is staying in Enterprise, yes?"

Hikaru smirks. "I heard that, yeah. So?"

"So, surely you will want to…" He wriggles his fingers. "Reignite the flames of your passion?"

Hikaru covers his face with his hand to hide a snort. "If by 'passion,' you mean getting up at the crack of dawn every day for long-ass morning jogs and drinking my weight in kale smoothies, then sure. But seriously, no one can drink that much liquefied kale. Plus, being that regular was starting to fuck up my social life."

Pavel wrinkles his nose. "What I promise to never make you drink a kale smoothie?"

"I already know you wouldn't; that's why I'm here." Hikaru motions to him. "Come on. Let's go get a drink already. An alcoholic drink."

"Yes," Pavel agrees, grabbing his coat. "Lots of vodka."

Hikaru grins. "I like how you say that."

"The weird thing is," Hikaru says, smiling shyly, "I actually do like it. And even weirder? I always did."

Jim sits on a stool by the bar and nurses a beer—his third of the evening—as the others all drunkenly socialize on their own: Hikaru and Pavel, Spock and Uhura (and okay, Spock doesn't drink anything at bars besides Shirley Temples, but whatever), Scotty and whatever waitress is bringing him those mini sliders he loves. He's doing his best not to think about Leonard when Leonard himself shuffles onto the open stool beside him. It causes Jim to startle, his beer dribbling down his chin.

"Wow, that's attractive," Jim mutters, wiping his face with the back of his hand. Leonard laughs and hands him a napkin.

"I already did something like that today," he says. "You're a tough guy to get a hold of. I went looking for you earlier but Pavel kept saying you were busy."

Jim shrugs. He's not eager to confide in Leonard, but it's not as if anyone else is around at the moment. "I wasn't exactly in a good mood after this morning. I mean, I work my ass off for months, only to get upstaged by someone grabbing my junk, mid-keel."

"I'm sure no one noticed."

"There were photographers, Bones."

Leonard smiles faintly. "You, um…you called me Bones again," he says. Jim swallows and doesn't say anything in response, which immediately erases the smile from Leonard's face. "Well, uh, listen. I know most of them pretty well by now, the City Hall photographers. I'll just, you know…have them killed."

Jim snickers into his pint glass, nearly getting beer up his nose. "Oh, you will, will you? Talk about going above and beyond."

"Well, we can always get new ones, right?" Leonard says. He gives Jim's shoulder a light squeeze, testing out the moment, and Jim isn't sure whether he'd rather lean into it or shove Leonard's hand away completely. He ends up just sitting there, not moving a muscle in any direction or acknowledging the gesture. The beer's given him a definite buzz and he doesn't want to say or do anything he'll regret—not this time.

"I guess you heard about Gary," Leonard says, pulling his hand back. Jim nods and looks down at his beer.

"Yeah. That's good. It'll be nice having him around a while longer."

"He offered me a job here," Leonard continues. "If I didn't want to move on to a new city, that is."

"Oh," Jim says. He's silent for a moment, until he realizes he's been holding his breath. "Well, uh…what do you want to do?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." They meet each other's eyes and Jim swears his hearts start to beat faster at the sight of Leonard visibly swallowing. "The thing is, Jim… I mean, about the other day—"

"Heeeeeey!" someone yells, interrupting Leonard. It's Hikaru, who, once again, has consumed one too many cocktails for his delicate constitution to withstand. "What the hell are you doing here? You've got some nerve, man, bothering my best friend like this after you broke his heart!"

At a nearby table, Uhura and Spock suddenly lift their heads and pay attention. Uhura sips her drink while holding her straw delicately between thumb and forefinger, her pinky jutting out.

"Is it my birthday?" she asks, to no one in particular.

Jim, meanwhile, tries to wrangle Hikaru into submission, grabbing his shoulders firmly. "Hikaru, quit it, okay? We're having a conversation here."

"Yeah, no offense, Hikaru," Leonard says, holding a hand up. "But Jim's a grown man and if I'm bothering him, he can tell me so himself."

"Offense! That’s rude!" Hikaru says. He grabs a random drink from the bar, which may or may not be his. "Seriously, stay away from Jim. I'm a nurse; I know how to inca—incapa—I know how to hurt you and make it look like an accident!" He gives Leonard the evil eye and then goes wandering off again, finding Pavel quickly. "Pavel, c'mere and dance up on me."

"Oh, yes, yes," Pavel agrees immediately, pulling him toward the dance floor. Leonard and Jim watch them go and then look at each other again, now that everything is about five thousand percent more awkward. The words broke his heart seem to echo, hanging between them in mid-air, like a storm cloud about to burst and drown everyone beneath it.

"You know that's the second time someone's threatened me today in regards to you?" Leonard asks, laughing awkwardly. The sound of it makes Jim ache down to his core and he squints.

"Can we go talk outside?"

Spock continues to sit at his table, alone for the moment and holding an empty glass.

"This has gone on long enough," he says. "All this tension is unbearable. It will not stand."

Just then, a waitress comes by. "Another Shirley Temple, sir?"

"Yes, that would be satisfactory."

They leave the bar and head into the parking lot, the din from inside subsiding once the back door of the building swings shut. Jim glances up at the nearest streetlamp, flooding over them like a spotlight on a stage.

"Jim, I don't know what to say," Leonard says, already rambling. "I'm sorry about what I did at the festival. I didn't think—"

"No, it was my fault," Jim interrupts, waving his hands. "It was stupid of me. I'm rash and I'm impulsive and I kiss guys who are probably straight and I drive cars off of cliffs on a dare—"

"You drove a car off a cliff?"

"Yeah, but it was a long time ago. The thing is," he says, waving his hands around, "is that I have all these ideas about shit, just swirling around in my head all the time. I never stop thinking and I never stop wanting to do things. And it works with Spock because even though he doesn't care, he can still tell me when I'm being an idiot, and it works with Hikaru because he'll always roll his eyes at me but go along with it anyway, and that's enough to let me know that he believes in me. And it works with you because you care too, and you care so much that you can step in and temper me and show me how to think things through and do them even better, and…"

Jim pauses for air and looks at Leonard blankly. He's struck by the way the light spills over the top of his dark head and across his broad shoulders, reflected in his clear, hazel eyes. It's totally beautiful and Jim didn't think he could feel more heartbroken than he already did, but.

"So what are you saying, Jim?" Leonard asks softly. Jim swallows.

"What I'm saying," he says, taking another breath, "is that even if you don't want this—us," he clarifies, motioning between them, "you should still consider sticking around. Because Enterprise is the best town in the world and we work well together and…well, yeah. We just work."

"We do work," Leonard says, stepping forward. "And…and I do want this, you crazy lunatic."

Jim blinks, his stomach going topsy-turvy again. "You do? But…the other day?"

"Yeah, see, I'm not impulsive. At all. Getting married and running for office were the most impulsive things I've ever done, and they both came back to bite me in the ass. I couldn't fly on a plane until I was twenty-six because I couldn't make it past the engine revving up without puking on the poor bastard sitting next to me. Just the thought of you driving a car off a cliff makes me feel queasy right now." He pulls a distressed face but takes another step closer to Jim all the same. "On top of all the anger stuff, I tend to think in terms of the worst-case scenario."

"You're really aces at telling me stuff about you that I already know," Jim says, laughing despite himself.

"So when you kissed me," Leonard goes on. He steps even closer so that they're only inches away from each other. "My first thoughts were all about what it could mean for our jobs and our livelihoods and what Gary would say. I had visions of getting sent back to the state capital with a bullseye on my back and you losing out on everything you've worked so damn hard to accomplish. And that just wrecked me, Jim, because you're one of the best damn people I've ever known, if not the best."

Jim takes a shaky breath, which he can see clouding in the air between them. "See, you're better at this than me, this whole thinking-things-through thing. 'Cause like, everything you just said is probably true, and—yeah, you know what? You should make a pros and cons list. Or just flip a coin or something, whatever. You know they make coin-flipping apps now? You don't even need a real coin. That shit is crazy, right?"

Leonard clutches both of Jim's shoulders in his big hands. "Everything I said is probably true," he agrees.

Then he closes the gap between them and kisses Jim thoroughly. Jim lets out a small, needy sound that he'll probably deny making later, and wraps his arms around Leonard to pull him close. When their lips part, it's only for a brief moment before Jim licks slowly across Leonard's mouth and quickly claims it again. They crowd each other's space, taking and giving and taking what they need.

"Thought you weren't impulsive," Jim murmurs after a while, his fingers carding through Leonard's dark hair. He sighs at the feel of Leonard's hand traveling down his spine and it sounds loud to his own ears, what with the utter silence surrounding them. Leonard presses a small smile to the corner of Jim's mouth, his voice a low rumble.

"You're a bad influence," he says. "So I might be changing."

The next morning, Spock walks into the main meeting room where most of the parks staff has already gathered. Gary pauses in his presentation, his curiosity piqued by the way Spock stands stiffly by the doors.

"I have an announcement," he begins.

"Oh, god," Leonard mutters. "Spock—"

"Ms. Nyota Uhura and I are currently engaged in a romantic relationship outside of the office," he states primly, despite the challenging look in his eyes. "As we are both professionals, we have not and will not allow the nature of this relationship to interfere with our work."

"Work?" Jim mouths to Pavel across the table.

"We wish to make this declaration now," Spock continues, "so that others currently employed here in City Hall may seek similar relationships if they so choose. I believe that government has no business interfering in our personal lives, which extends to the subject at hand."

When he's done, he exchanges a meaningful glance with Uhura. She grants him one of her elusive smiles.

"We talked about it beforehand, so I knew it was coming," she explains. She leans against the wall outside the meeting room. "We figure that if Gary fires us, we'll move to New Mexico and become goat herders. Or whatever it is they herd down there." She glances at her nails thoughtfully. "Coyotes?"

"Well, Spock," Gary says, smiling at him in confusion. "That's wonderful to hear and I'm very happy for you. However, I'm fairly sure we already knew about your relationship with Ms. Uhura."

"Not exactly late-breaking news," Scotty says, chewing on a bite of his mid-morning sandwich.

Pavel rolls his eyes. "Yeah, tell us something we don't know."

"For example," Jim pipes up. "Do you two prefer getting it on the supply closet or in Spock's office, because I've been wonder—" He stops when Uhura nails him with her patented death glare. "I mean, uh. Congratulations?"

Spock looks around the room, his brow slightly furrowed. "While I'm a bit perplexed regarding everyone's prior knowledge, as I feel Ms. Uhura and I have been very discreet, I'm glad to hear you find our arrangement acceptable."

"'Discreet' is not the word I would use," Gary says, pointing a finger. He smiles cheerfully. "Anyway, I assume you brought this to my attention because of Jim and Leonard's burgeoning relationship—which I'm also fine with! So let's all move on and not worry about it, okay? We've got lots of work to do."

"You told him?" Uhura asks.

"Yeah, this morning," Leonard says. He splays his hands. "I tried to stop you, Spock."

"Wait, so you and Uhura were trying to help us?" Jim asks, clutching his chest and grinning. "Oh, my god. You guys do have hearts after all. I love you, too."

Spock scowls at everyone as he sits down. "The meeting, Gary. Please continue."

Back at his desk later on, Spock frowns deeply at the camera.

"This is why I dislike helping others," he says. "It never goes my way."

Leonard finds Jim in the courtyard later, eating and busy doing paperwork, even during his lunch break. He looks up and gives Leonard a sunny grin.

"Hey, Bones. You look like a man with good news to share."

"Yep. Just officially accepted the job," he says, sitting across from Jim and pulling out his own lunch bag.

"Awesome. So, how long does this mean you'll be staying?"

"For as long as Enterprise will have me, I guess."

Jim whistles low. "Probably forever, then. Enterprise needs all the help it can get. Have you seen our annual spending costs?"

"I might have taken a glance or two at them, yeah," Leonard says, smiling as he gazes at Jim. "But listen, don't talk that way about my town. Don't you know that Enterprise is special?"

"Yeah, it is." Jim sips his diet soda and fights off a blush. "But, you know, at the same time, it's impulsive. It puts on gigantic festivals and big concerts and it never thinks about stuff like budgets or fiscal responsibility because that stuff is for nerds with giant sticks up their butts."

Leonard folds his arms on the table and shakes his head, feigning resignation. "Then I'll have to stay for a while, then. Keep an eye on things so the town doesn't get out of control."

"Maybe forever," Jim says, sighing. He bats his eyelashes. "But at least the town has pretty blue eyes and a sparkling personality to make up for it."

"The town is a pain in my ass, is what it is," Leonard says in his snarliest, crankiest voice—the one that never fails to make Jim swoon. "An out-of-control infant with an annoying penchant for making my life difficult."

"Uh huh," Jim concedes, sighing dreamily. "But you love it."

Leonard tangles their legs together under the table and gives Jim a wry smile.

"Yeah, Jim. Gotta admit that I do."

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