Moving Day (RP)

[sharpestscalpel]

It was easy enough to empty sickbay out. Most of the wounds coming in were superficial – the real power struggle would take a few more days while alliances and allegiances shook themselves out of the wash. Uhura looked good in the chair and she’d already held it – with a knife blade so lazy from Chekov that the whole defense would have been an insult to the assassin if he hadn’t gurgled out his last breaths onto the floor at Uhura’s booted heels.

McCoy motioned to the last of the nurses and they scattered to take their positions in the halls. It wasn’t that McCoy trusted them. It was that they damn well knew better than to try anything on him or he’d make them wish he’d killed them before he fucked them.

Now it was just a matter of getting Kirk out the door. He hadn’t given the man any warning – it was more fun to keep him guessing.

The probes opened the door to the iso room at McCoy’s approach.

He was smiling.

Comments

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Kirk did not sleep right away.

He watched McCoy for awhile, like a starved dog at the edge of a fire. It might lick out and burn you, or someone might kick you away from what little warmth you've managed to find.

But it caught up with him, eventually. Everything that had happened (and not), all the adrenaline and anticipation and hell, simple walking had done him in. He drifted off, eventually curling into a fetal position on the sofa bed, his face turned towards McCoy as if he could keep watch through lowered eyelids.