(no subject)
Jun. 21st, 2009 08:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Another Bones snippet. *grins* For those shippers out there, there's always underlying tones, you know? ;)
"I -" Kirk slurred as he poked Bones in the chest with a finger. "Told him I would. I did."
Bones drunkenly smacked at the waving hand but missed by a mile. "Who, what?" It wasn't a complete sentence but considering the amount of scotch he'd been drinking, it was a good effort on his part. A+ for effort, even. A+++. He giggled.
The other man waved his arms. "Three years! I told him, I would -"
And just like that, Kirk tumbled backwards and onto the floor with a fairly loud thump. Eyebrows raised, Bones carefully leaned over the coffee table (he could tell you everything about the human muscular system from the shoulders down but damned if he could actually feel it) to look at his, apparently, unconscious friend.
"Well, Jim, in my astroni - astri - large array of medical knowledge, I can tell you this." He straightened his shoulders and glared in the vague area of Kirk's head. "You're not dead, Jim."
"So the man," Kirk muttered from the floor before completely passing out.
"Pansy! Hah, give me a case of scotch, two weeks and I bet this old dog could teach you some tricks." Bones stumbled backwards and when his knees hit the couch, collapsed on it in a heap of drunken skin, bones and his new uniform. Less than a day after he'd been given it and it already smelled like the inside of his ex-wife's bathroom.
Vaguely comforting and incredibly disgusting all rolled into one suit of formerly distinguished cloth.
Bones gave a vague thought to trying to drag the Captain back to his own quarters but immediately knew that was a bad idea. Almost as bad as drinking that much of Scotty's home brewed crap - that stuff kicked you until you were down and then came back for seconds. As he thought of various ways to pickle the new engineer in his own crap, Bones passed out to the not-soothing-at-all sounds of James T. Kirk suffocating into the floor.
***
When Bones woke up with an all mighty hangover, he thought back to the last thing he'd said out loud before passing out. 'Teach him some tricks?' he groaned, grateful they were deep in space and there was no sunrise in sight. 'I am never drinking again.'
"I -" Kirk slurred as he poked Bones in the chest with a finger. "Told him I would. I did."
Bones drunkenly smacked at the waving hand but missed by a mile. "Who, what?" It wasn't a complete sentence but considering the amount of scotch he'd been drinking, it was a good effort on his part. A+ for effort, even. A+++. He giggled.
The other man waved his arms. "Three years! I told him, I would -"
And just like that, Kirk tumbled backwards and onto the floor with a fairly loud thump. Eyebrows raised, Bones carefully leaned over the coffee table (he could tell you everything about the human muscular system from the shoulders down but damned if he could actually feel it) to look at his, apparently, unconscious friend.
"Well, Jim, in my astroni - astri - large array of medical knowledge, I can tell you this." He straightened his shoulders and glared in the vague area of Kirk's head. "You're not dead, Jim."
"So the man," Kirk muttered from the floor before completely passing out.
"Pansy! Hah, give me a case of scotch, two weeks and I bet this old dog could teach you some tricks." Bones stumbled backwards and when his knees hit the couch, collapsed on it in a heap of drunken skin, bones and his new uniform. Less than a day after he'd been given it and it already smelled like the inside of his ex-wife's bathroom.
Vaguely comforting and incredibly disgusting all rolled into one suit of formerly distinguished cloth.
Bones gave a vague thought to trying to drag the Captain back to his own quarters but immediately knew that was a bad idea. Almost as bad as drinking that much of Scotty's home brewed crap - that stuff kicked you until you were down and then came back for seconds. As he thought of various ways to pickle the new engineer in his own crap, Bones passed out to the not-soothing-at-all sounds of James T. Kirk suffocating into the floor.
***
When Bones woke up with an all mighty hangover, he thought back to the last thing he'd said out loud before passing out. 'Teach him some tricks?' he groaned, grateful they were deep in space and there was no sunrise in sight. 'I am never drinking again.'
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-22 01:46 am (UTC)This would be his first proxy comment, btw.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-22 02:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-22 02:15 am (UTC)(Also, A+++++ for Kirk/McCoy sleepovers.)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-22 02:34 am (UTC)Like bitter. Really, really bitter. And funny about it. (Alsoalso, no secret really - he's just so easy to write. So far, anyway. Since I haven't tried anything longer.)
*grins* I knew you'd approve. ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-22 12:25 pm (UTC)Ahhahhahaha.
What I love so much about the Kirk and McCoy dynamic is that Kirk-- you know, God's gift to Star Fleet, space, women and dangling from cliffs and overhangs-- with McCoy can be sort of... normal. Humbled? ;)
For those shippers out there, there's always underlying tones, you know? ;)
Stay strong, Jen! Do what you feel!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-22 01:23 pm (UTC)That's really what I like about the dynamic. McCoy is old and cranky and has no issue with smacking down his best friend whenever he feels the need. Which tends to be always. So Kirk, in response, tends to be more real around him because he knows there's really not much use in doing otherwise. Oh, he's still an ass sometimes but that's a given.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-22 05:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-22 07:07 pm (UTC)