ceres_libera | Not On My Watch

Title: "Not On My Watch"
Author:

ceres_libera
Rating: R-ish for language and implied m/m sex
Summary: A cleaned up version of the ~ 3,000 word story originally posted at

buckleup_meme in answer to the prompt: "SpockPrime tries to tell Bones he has to break up with Jim because Spock and Kirk are soulmates (which is just no. I love Zack but no.). Bones tells him to fuck off. Bones and Jim live happily ever after."
Canon: Based in the ST:XI/AOS-verse, but strongly influenced by all canon ST-verses.
Characters: Kirk/McCoy, Spock
Notes: Not Switch-compliant, although I'm hoping to post my Jim-POV Switch-inverse story (called Touch) as a multi-part one-shot, soon. I hoped that writing and posting this story on the same day (with mistakes, augh!) would help me break through my block.

Oh, and Happy Belated Reboot-versary! One year in, and I’m still having fun. Here’s hoping you are, too.

Disclaimers: It all belongs to Paramount, JJ Abrams, and the great Roddenberry. Except for this story, which is all me.

+

He was bent over, checking the supplies in the box on the floor against the manifest when he became aware that he was not alone. Leonard McCoy was nothing if not observant of his surroundings, but that doesn't mean he – Bones, that is – was going to jump through any hoops for this particular individual. Instead, he took his time, double-checking and using his stylus to note that the zyrchlorhistamine shipment was missing seven vials - an oversight he's not willing to accept, for obvious reasons – before he turned and addressed the man in black robes, reminding himself to respect his elders before he opened his mouth, something he believed might prove difficult over the next few minutes.

"Ambassador Spock," he drawled out, just this side of insolence, an emotion probably lost on the Vulcan. "Fancy seeing you here."

Here was a medical supplies shuttle bound for the almost repaired Enterprise in the next two hours. Bones, who was always Dr. McCoy no matter what he was called, was unwilling to leave terra firma until absolutely certain that his medical bays had been resupplied to his and not Starfleet's specifications. Not to mention the fact that he would prefer to have his supplies shuttled up to the ship, thank you very much, rather than risk some precious property being beamed right the fuck out of them.

"Doctor," the elderly Vulcan intoned, tilting his head. His dark eyes traveled over the boxes of supplies, nothing hurried or rushed or the least bit indicative of the tension between the two of them that Bones could feel crackling right under the surface.

Bones studied the Vulcan, surprised to note that his eyes neither lingered upon nor registered in any way the importance of the drugs that he himself was most concerned with. "Huh," he said aloud, unthinking.

"Doctor?" The Ambassador's head tilted the other way.

"Why are you here, Ambassador?" he asked, leaving unspoken the end of that sentence, which was, ‘I'm goddamned busy, in case you can't see it for yourself.'

The Vulcan's face creased into a barely-there cipher of a smile, and Bones found himself just a bit more irritated than before, a triumph – since he was already plenty irritated at being interrupted to begin with. Besides, there was nothing he hated more than someone who tried to manage him, especially when he was pretty goddamned sure he knew exactly what was at the top of the Ambassador's agenda for their impromptu meeting.

"I could say that I wanted to see you before you set off, old friend --" the Ambassador began, but Bones leapt into the pause headlong.

"You could say that," he answered, "but since our acquaintance consists of exactly one brief private conversation before Jim's commendation ceremony, and our joint presence in the same classified debriefing, I would say that calling me an 'old friend' is hyperbole." He paused. "A figure of speech, by the way, that I never would have thought a Vulcan would use."

The Vulcan in question had the temerity to be twinkling his eyes at Bones, and somehow him finding the situation, or Bones, amusing was even more irritating than the thought of his pseudo-paternalistic attempt at managing him. "Perhaps such a description could be laid at the feet of my human half?" He suggested this in a jesting manner meant to imply that this would be a weakness.

Although Bones knew that Spock's intention was for the tone to remain arch, to be light, he wasn't interested in playing along with anything that the Vulcan wanted, including an obvious race-baiting attempt to raise his ire. "I'll speak more plainly then," he said, before he asked bluntly "What do you want, Ambassador?"

There was a minute hesitation before Spock spoke, time enough for Bones to see that he was composing himself, tucking his arms in his sleeves. "I suppose that I wish to warn you," he said slowly.

"Do you now?" Bones asked. Only another Southerner would have recognized the rising menace in Bones' elongating vowels.

"I sense that you don't believe that I have your best interests at heart," Spock said, and there was something honestly surprised about his tone.

"You don't know a damned thing about my best interests," Bones shot back.

"I recognize," Spock said firmly, cutting him off, "that things are different here, but just as Jim Kirk was destined to be the Captain of the Enterprise, you must recognize that there are other things that are destined, and therefore inevitable."

"Bullshit," Bones said.

"Doctor," Spock said, in a tone like he was speaking to a recalcitrant child. "The fact that Jim has ascended to the Captaincy of the Enterprise as before is proof that this universe will try to align itself with the original one."

"The original one?" Bones repeated. "The breathtaking arrogance of that statement floors me so much that I now find that my use of the word hyperbole was both too apt and far too mild."

"Doctor," Spock said soothingly, "Bones …"

"Don't you fuckin' dare!" Bones snapped, lapsing into outright vulgarity for the first and probably not last time in the conversation. "There is only one person in this universe or any other that's allowed to call me that name, and you sure as shit ain't him!"

"You must understand," Spock said, "that where such a destiny is concerned, that it would be best if you save yourself from the heartbreak …"

"Oh," Bones said sarcastically, "because you're only thinking of poor, pitiful me in this situation, are you? And not a thought to yourself, or should I say, your doppelganger, who, by the way, is not the least little bit interested in Jim the way that you imagine."

The Vulcan shook his head, as if this was a meaningless observation, "Nor was I, at first," he said. "But over time …"

"Time's up, Spock," Bones barked out. "And that ship has sailed."

"It has yet to sail, Doctor," Spock said quietly, "but it will, and you deny that to your own peril."

"My peril," Bones said. "Because what you and Jim had in your other universe was so all-consuming, so powerful, so perfect?" He bit off the last word with contempt.

Spock had the grace to look pained. "Perfection is perhaps not the appropriate construct, but to me, he was t'hy'la."

"Mmmhmm …" Bones murmured, "a word, Jim has told me, that means 'brother, lover, other self', is that right?"

"Yes," Spock said, still looking pained, but surprised that Bones understood the concept.

"A relationship closer than a conventional marriage, is what Jim said, a totality of union, made possible by your mental bond," Bones continued on mercilessly.

"It is more than a mental bond …" Spock said, pausing, seemingly searching for the words in Standard to express himself, "for it connotes an emotional bonding, as well."

"You mean, like the one that your counterpart has with Nyota Uhura?"

"That's not …" The elder Vulcan looked very pained, indeed. "That will end."

"Because you yourself had a relationship with Uhura that dissolved in the face of your great love for your Jim Kirk?" Bones had crossed his arms over his chest, and he rocked back on his heels as he asked the question.

"No," Spock said hesitantly. "We were friends, in the same way that I assume …"

"Uh uh uh, Spock," Bones said. "You know what we Terrans say about assumptions. And in any case, you'd be wrong. Spock has bonded to Uhura, both physically and emotionally."

"How do you know –"

"That's none of your business, Spock," Bones growled. "In fact, none of this is your business, or your world, or your life, but since you started this, I'm sure as hell gonna finish it, once and for all." Bones' hands were clenching his own biceps and he took in a breath to center himself, thinking of Jim – looming over him, sunlight filtering through his hair, sleepy blue eyes blinking above pink cheeks as he kissed Bones awake – of cradling the heavy weight of Jim's head over his heart as Jim cried about what had happened at the Battle of Vulcan – of Jim's knees leaving a trail of sparks on the outside of his thighs as he slipped onto Bones' lap, laughing. Jim had taken him, broken down and battered as he was, and remade him, christened him Bones and made him his, as surely as Jim belonged to him, with him, under him, inside and around him, no matter what. He rubbed his chin with a hand, watching as Spock's eyes narrowed at the ring he wore on his little finger. "So, in your world, you and Jim had this all-encompassing love and you were always with him?" He felt a momentary pang at the cruel words, because it was never his first impulse to harm, and he already knew the answer to his question. Spock, in his compromised state in that ice cave on Delta Vega, had conveyed an awful lot of information to his Jim about the sad and lonely end of the other Jim.

"You know that's not true," Spock said wearily.

"You're damned right I do," Bones growled. "And if you thought that you could just waltz into my universe and expiate your sins, force someone else to relive your life story and fix what you broke, you've got another thing coming. We aren't pieces on your chess board, Spock. You had your time, and you fucked it up. You left him –"

"You left him, too," Spock protested, a hard edge finally bleeding through his voice.

"No," Bones said, slapping his hand across his chest, Jim's ring pressing over his heart. "not me. I won't ever leave him."

Spock made a small sound that might have been a scoff. "You have already divorced in this universe, as you did in the other," he said in a superior tone.

Bones laughed at his presumption, shaking his head. "She left me, Spock. When I make a vow, I keep it." He raised the hand that Spock had been so interested in a minute ago. "Did your McCoy wear this ring?"

Spock's brows drew down. "No," he said quietly. "He had another."

He leaned forward, pointing at Spock. "Did it ever occur to you that this universe and all its horrors might be the right one, and yours might be the wrong one?"

"No," Spock said emphatically. "That could not be true."

"Why?" Bones argued, "because you want it to be so? That's desire, not logic. You've got not one shred of evidence to support your idea, just the hope that you might get the chance to fix what went awry. There's only one problem with that logic," he said with sarcastic sass, "You're not the same man here, Spock, nor am I and he, my Jim, sure as hell ain't."

"The differences while notable," Spock began, "are –"

"Notable," Bones said with heavy emphasis. He knocked a shipping crate with his foot. "You know what this is, or this …" he pointed next to him, "or this?"

"Medicine," Spock said, looking at the labels on the crates, "specifically for allergies."

Bones waited, but there was no other answer forthcoming. "Right," he said. "Medicine. Jim's medicine."

Spock looked puzzled. "Jim has some reactions to seasonal pollens on Earth, and of course, we were all affected by various alien spores and --"

"This Jim," Bones interrupted, "my beautiful blue-eyed Jim, the man with the scars on his face, is prone to allergy."

"Inconsequential differences," Spock said dismissively. "Scars and surface alterations."

"The forces that made my Jim the man he is have affected more than just his immune system," Bones said forcefully. "He is not the same man!"

"Ah," Spock said, tilting his head "You refer to Jim's troubled childhood." He nodded sagely. "He will transcend the traumas of his childhood, has already proven that his true character will rise to the unique challenges of leadership."

"Transcended?" Bones repeated with fury "The way your Jim transcended the happiness of his childhood? Living out his last days alone and miserable, in isolation?"

"That is an unfair assertion," Spock said icily.

"Oh, because he was so happy later in his life?" Bones mocked, and then added. "I read the history that you gave the Admiralty."

Spock looked surprised.

"You ain't the only one with friends in high places, Spock," Bones said. "And you sure as shit haven't carried your case that you know what's best – for Jim, or for this universe. And I'll tell you what I promised the man who gave me that information: what happened to your Jim? Will never happen to mine." He raised his hand and wiggled his finger, his ring flashing in the light. "Not on my watch."

The elder Spock's mouth was set in a thin line, but he tried once again. "You refuse to listen to reason?" he asked.

"I've yet to hear a word of it from your side of this ridiculous conversation," Bones said acerbically. "Go on along now, Spock. There's nothing more for you to say, and no reason for you to stay."

"Bones?" The sound of Jim's voice was always welcome, even when his tone was wary. His blue eyes flickered back and forth between Spock and Bones, his concern clear.

"C'mon in, Jim," Bones said, "I'm all done here."

"Ambassador," Jim said respectfully. He moved across the crowded bay to Bones, running a hand across the stiff line of Bones' shoulder and squeezing, before he turned to face Spock, standing next to Bones. "I'm surprised to see you here, sir." He crossed his arms behind his back and stood at parade rest, nudging Bones with his shoulder.

The elderly Vulcan looked pained by Jim's presence alongside Bones, and moreso at Jim's inability to stop touching him. "Surprises do seem to be the order of the day," he said gravely.

"I'm sure they do, sir," Jim said graciously. As Bones watched, his eyes narrowed, reacting to Spock's subtle stiffening at Jim's continued use of formality, and the distance it implied between them. "This must be a very difficult transition for you," he said sympathetically. He looked over at Bones and the line of his mouth softened. "I couldn't imagine what it would be like to leave behind everything I'd known before." Bones felt his posture shift, before he felt the press of Jim's hand, smoothing up and down his spine in a possessive gesture. "It would be …" Jim paused, and looked at the Ambassador, his hand roaming up Bones' back to his neck and stopping there, "unthinkable." He turned and looked at Bones, before he turned back to the Ambassador and added in a low, deliberate voice, "Sir."

Spock stared at Jim for a long moment. "Indeed," he said softly. "I'll leave you to it, then."

"That would be best, I think," Jim said lightly.

Bones quelled the smile of triumph that wanted to break free as the Ambassador took his leave. His mama hadn't raised him to gloat, after all.

+

Later, that night, Jim was pressed into the mattress beneath him, spent, while Bones ran his hands up and down Jim's tremoring sides, his face buried in Jim's neck. "Bones," Jim gasped out, between pants, trying to get air back into his lungs.

Bones raised up to shift off of him, but Jim clamped his arms and legs closed around him, not letting him go.

"What were you saying?" he asked, still trying to get his breath back. "I couldn't understand you."

Bones looked at him in askance, before he suddenly realized what he must have been saying, and buried his burning face against the hollow of Jim's throat.

"Bones," Jim insisted, twisting under him to try and see Bones' face. When that didn't work, he tugged on his hair, and then peppered Bones' temple and hair line with kisses when he continued to resist him. "Tell me," Jim said, his voice low and intense. "Please, Bones."

Bones sighed, knowing that he was done for, as Jim damned well knew that he'd never been able to resist Jim when he was sweet, when he said 'please'. He lifted his head and looked Jim in the eye, raising a still shaking hand to run it over Jim's kiss-swollen mouth, the planes of his beautiful face.

Jim kissed his fingers, the expression on his face one of indulgent patience as he waited for his answer.

"Not on my watch," Bones said quietly, looking Jim in the eye, his words a vow. He outlined Jim's lips and pressed a lingering tender kiss to them, taking his time. When the kiss ended, he drew back and contemplated his puzzled lover.

"I don't understand, Bones," Jim whispered to him.

Bones smiled, a true and heartfelt expression that he saw echoed on Jim's face despite his confusion. He leaned down and kissed Jim once more, just because he could, just because he could never resist that mouth, either, and never would have to, if he had his way. "You will, Jim," he vowed.

Jim smiled at him bemusedly, running a fond and possessive hand over the back of Bones' head.

At his urging, Bones bent his head back down to Jim's for another kiss, stopping to whisper against Jim's lips, "I promise," holding Jim as close as possible, while he sealed his pledge.

+

Current Mood: cheerful

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

mga1999.livejournal.com

Um yeah. There may have been a pretty loud squee when I saw this and the smile on my face now. *sigh* Just lovely. BAMF Bones telling Spock Prime where he can put it... PRICELESS.

Have missed your writing and I'm looking forward to Touch.

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Not On My Watch

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