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The air on Udlonn IV was thick and sweet and pleasantly warm. Spock, Jim, and Bones looked out at the view that greeted them as they beamed down, and two out of three of them grinned.
“This place is gorgeous!” Jim exclaimed, throwing out his arms and spinning around a few times. And indeed it was. What stood in front of them was a large coniferous forest, stretching out for miles and miles. The three of them were ready for a hike--backpacks, water bottles, granola bars and all. Even Spock had a very logical hiking outfit on, with clothing half borrowed from Jim and half borrowed from Bones.
“It’s been way too long since we’ve had shore leave together,” said Bones. He smiled. Jim and Spock both looked very adorable in their hiking outfits. “Ready to get going?”
“Indeed,” said Spock, and they began walking.
As they trekked through the forest, Spock pointed out various alien flora. “That one is called argentoanthos aromatica,” said Spock, gesturing towards a small flower.
“It’s just like you, Jim,” said Bones. “Smelly and gold.”
“Much of the flora on this planet is very fragrant, as well as golden,” Spock said. “Many plants we have already passed would also be ‘just like Jim’ if that is the criteria.”
Bones rolled his eyes. “Buzzkill.”
“You ever wonder where the word ‘buzzkill’ comes from?” said Jim absently. “It kinda sounds like mosquito repellant.”
“I cannot be sure as I have never studied the word,” Spock started, “but based on the slang I have heard you use I would speculate that it came from the word ‘buzz’ to describe alcohol intoxication, and the positive connotation such a feeling has, and then adding ‘kill’ to describe the action of making someone else’s ‘buzz’, or good feelings, disappear.”
“You’re so silly, Spock,” said Bones, pushing into Spock’s side. Spock leaned into the touch.
“You’re both so silly,” Jim giggled, smiling like an idiot at his boyfriends.
They continued their hike. Of course, everything they do turns dangerous just by virtue of it being them doing it. So they shouldn’t have been surprised when Jim fell down a fucking ditch.
“AHH!” he yelped, sliding and tumbling down, dirt and treetops competing for his vision, and a sickening crack rang through the woods.
Bones and Spock immediately ran to help him, peering down from the top of the ditch.
“Jim? You okay?” Bones called, worry seeping into his voice.
“Um,” he said, “I think my leg’s broken. I heard it crack.”
“Damn,” Bones hissed. “Why do things always go wrong?” he asked the heavens. He and Spock slid down the hill, and Bones knelt next to Jim to examine him. “I swear to god, every fucking time we get shore leave shit like this happens! Always! Never once, have we ever, ever gotten a vacation where nothing bad happens. All I want is some time off where no one explodes, no galactic wars start, and no dumbasses fall down a fucking ditch!”
“Sorry Bones,” Jim sighed. And that made Bones feel bad, because Jim looked genuinely guilty.
He patted Jim’s hand. “It’s not your fault universe hates us.”
“How can I best be of assistance, Doctor,” Spock said, all business.
“You can hold Jim’s hand while I set his leg,” Bones deadpanned. He looked up at Jim. “You want a countdown?”
“Uh, no, just go ahea--AHH!” Jim screamed as Bones quickly snapped his fibula back into place. He hissed. “Stars, I didn’t think you’d do it right away,” he panted.
“If you wanted a countdown you shoulda said so,” said Bones, taking out his portable bone-knitter that he’d brought for just this sort of event. It wasn’t as strong as the proper ones they had on the ship, so it’d take a bit longer, but at least they could keep hiking.
“Thanks for holding my hand, Spock,” said Jim, and Spock blushed. He sent love through the contact, and Jim sent some back.
“Oh, spare me from your bashful Vulcan flirting,” Bones teased. “You’re blushing, Spock.”
“I am not,” Spock denied on reflex. “Perhaps it may be time to get your eyesight checked, Doctor.”
Jim guffawed, leg no longer painful.
They continued hiking. And yet, however well acquainted with finagle’s law they were, Spock still yelped unVulcanly when a small, rabbit-like creature native to this planet jumped up and slashed at his arm, ripping the fabric of the hiking shirt he’d borrowed from Bones, as well as his skin, leaving three green cuts dripping blood at an alarming rate.
“Spock!” Jim squawked. The rabbit-thing ran away ran away, and Jim and Bones ran towards Spock.
“Good fucking god,” Bones groaned, grabbing gauze to try and stop the bleeding enough to use the portable dermal regenerator he had in his bag. “Are you okay, Spock?”
“I am alright,” said Spock.
“Stupid rabbit thing,” Jim grumbled. “It just jumped up and hurt you for no fucking reason!”
“That was a rarawer,” Spock infodumped, watching as Bones wiped away green blood from his arm. “It is a native species. It is known to do things like this. It uses the blood on its claws to attract mates. The more blood, the stronger the rarawer is assumed to be, thus increasing its chances of mating.”
Bones pressed the dermal regenerator to Spock’s arm. “This one must be very confused about the color of its claws right now.”
“Perhaps,” said Spock.
“Okay, your arm’s done,” said Bones, putting away his tools. “I swear to god if one of you gets hurt again I’m gonna fucking flip.”
And so they continued hiking. But of course, if one of them says they want something to go well, the fates will automatically conspire to make the opposite happen. So when Bones fell off a small cliff and into a lake, he probably should have expected it.
“Bones!!” Jim screeched, jumping in after him, grabbing Spock’s hand and taking him along too.
The water was very cold, and it got in Bones’s nose instantly, but he quickly began to tread water. He watched as Jim and Spock’s head popped up after his, overcoming the inertia of the fall and swimming up to the surface. They all were soaked, obviously, hair sticking to their foreheads.
“Why the fuck did you jump in after me?” Bones chastised. “You know full well I can swim.”
“I panicked,” Jim said sheepishly.
“And why’d you bring Spock down with you?”
“I was just about to ask that question,” said Spock, raising a sopping eyebrow.
They climbed out of the water and stood on the shore, dripping and shivering. They stared at each other.
“I may have brought a bone knitter and a dermal regenerator,” Bones lamented, “but I did not bring a blow dryer. Sorry, guys.”
“We should probably beam up now,” Jim sighed, equally bummed. “Spock will get cold.”
“I assure you, I will be fine,” said Spock. “However, I agree that perhaps a beam-up would be prudent.”
Once back on the ship, they all trudged back to their quarters to dry off.
Bones laid down next to Spock in his warm, clean pajamas. Jim soon joined them.
Despite their failed vacation, they still had fun. And that was probably the point all along, idk.