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“Jim- Jim- JIM!”
“Bones, would you stop it? My driving is fine.”
“Your driving is maniacal! Where’d you learn to drive?”
Jim was uncharacteristically quiet.
“Jim? You okay?”
“I guess I never really… “learned to drive”,” he used air quotes.
“Hands on the wheel!”
“Hush. Anyway. I pretty much taught myself.”
“Wha- Jim- how did you get a license?”
“Oh please, the written test is a breeze and the driving test is just common sense.”
“Okay, so can you use some of that common sense now?! You’re makin’ me motion sick!”
They were on their way to Bones’ mother’s house in Georgia, Jim behind the wheel of their rental car. “You just want to drive.”
“I do not want to drive! I want to enjoy the scenery but I can’t if I’m fighting pukin’!”
“You’re so dramatic.”
Bones couldn’t let him know that half the reason he was nauseous was because he found out no one had ever taught the poor kid how to drive. So what else had he missed out on over his formative years? His birthday was always considered the day his dad died more than anything else, so he was robbed of that as well. There was just so much that Jim Kirk had missed out on as a kid that it broke his best friend’s heart.
“I barely survived the shuttle! Now I have to survive your driving!”
“Just think, you have a nice empty stomach for whatever your mom cooks!”
“Let’s not talk about food right now…”
“Fair enough.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes.
“I was emancipated, remember?” Jim finally said quietly. “I came back from Tarsus and… left. I didn’t have anyone in my life to teach me how to drive, because no one wanted me.”
If possible, Len’s heart broke even more, and his stomach churned again. “Well, things are different now,” he shook his head. “You have people that want you. And I want your driving to improve, JESUS JIM THAT IS A POTHOLE!”
“Oh yeah, nothin’ but love…”