rocknload | [Fic: Stark Trek] "Redundancy"

Title: Redundancy
Author: Brittany (

rocknload)
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: G
Words: 400
Summary: [spock/kirk] McCoy is getting tired of having this same conversation over and over again.
Author’s Notes: Originally written for the

st_xi_kink meme, but I liked it a lot so I cleaned it up and put it here! ... Okay, honest answer: I was really trying to avoid studying for my Chinese final tonight, and I had just enough time to edit this.

*

Most crews in Starfleet have a tradition of celebrating a mission completed and a job well done—but the Enterprise, with Captain James Kirk at the helm, has elevated that to almost a requirement. They hit the same joint in San Francisco practically every time the ship is orbiting the planet—all of them, because Jim hasn’t yet learned that captains aren’t supposed to fraternize with their crew. McCoy isn’t sure he ever would.

“What’s a girl like Uhura doing with a guy like him, anyway?” Jim knocks back another drink and steals a glance across the bar, where a beautiful woman is smiling and talking, and her stoic companion is … not. “He’s such a …”

“Green-blooded bastard?” McCoy supplies, easily. He has an entire lexicon of synonyms for “Spock” ever at the ready, and he’s not even sure he means most of them as insults, anymore.

“No, not that.”

McCoy sighs. The alcohol has loosened Jim’s tongue, but it’s not as though the man waits for times like these to rehash this same damn topic. “Because of what, Jim? He’s such a logical half-human being?”

“Not that either.” Jim picks up another drink, peering at it thoughtfully before looking back towards Spock and Uhura. “He is, but…”

McCoy reaches for his beer, thinking that he hasn’t had nearly enough of these yet to tackle this topic. But he says it anyway: “You know what puzzles me about this, Jim?”

“No, what?”

“That if you’re so busy mooning over the lovely lady, why do you spend all your time talking about Spock?”

Jim sputters, nearly choking on his drink. “Wait,” he says. “What—”

“Just an observation.” Kid, he bites back. And it’s blindingly obvious to every person in this room—he swallows that, too. As a matter of fact, he just shuts his mouth completely. Jim is his commanding officer, but it really doesn’t have anything to do with that. McCoy just doesn’t feel the need to rub it in.

Jim flushes slightly, something he can probably blame on the alcohol if he wants to. “I just don’t get how women think,” he says. “I’m just trying to figure out why anyone would go for the guy with the pointy ears,” he says. He’s still watching the couple across the room.

McCoy downs the rest of his scotch. He knows Jim isn’t going to see him roll his eyes, and so he doesn’t bother hiding it. “I’m asking myself the same thing,” he mutters, under his breath, not particularly caring if Jim hears him or not.

He doesn’t.

*