Chapter Text
After the events of "The Menagerie":
Kirk poured drinks for himself and McCoy, and settled back in his chair. "I'm still puzzling over why, Bones."
"Did it occur to you that it might have been loyalty?" McCoy asked sarcastically, and took a sip.
"Of course it was loyalty, Bones," Kirk replied. "But to whom?"
McCoy shrugged. "He couldn't choose between you, so he chose both."
"That's just it, though. He didn't tell me; he kept it a secret," Kirk said intently. "He must think I don't trust him."
McCoy raised an eyebrow. "From what you said, it sounds to me like he wanted to spare you from sharing in the death penalty for the sake of his old Captain."
Kirk launched himself to his feet, saying, "He failed to consider that I might want to be spared his death!" He sat back down. "I... would hate to have to find a new first officer. He's one of the best." He drained his glass and set it down.
"Sure." McCoy hmm'd skeptically. "You're still mad at him, aren't you?"
"What I want to know is how much was him," Kirk said, ignoring the question, "and how much was the Talosians? We know they reached to Starbase 11, because they made me believe that Mendez was with me the whole time. Did they put the plan into Spock's brain?"
McCoy pondered. "I couldn't say how much of the planning might have been them, but the execution was all Spock. Do you know, he turned himself over to me for arrest? As the ranking officer?"
"I'd have liked to see that." Kirk raised his glass appreciatively.
"Jim, I hardly knew what to do!"
"I'd have thought you'd be pleased to get some of your own back." Kirk chuckled.
"I don't much care for him, but... it didn't seem right."
"Sure," Kirk said, and smiled.