Detente

[sharpestscalpel]

It had chaffed at first. Jocelyn had left him to rot, pissed as hell about the kid. He’d mulled over vivid revenge fantasies until, the first time he saw her afterwards, he’d had to clench his fists in his pockets so they wouldn’t reach out of their own accord and settle over her fine collarbones and reel her in for a taste old-fashioned McCoy justice like spit in her eye.

But in the end, he hadn’t blamed her. She was a conniver and he hadn’t ever been as willing a participant in her scheme as she’d have liked. Jocelyn had deserved a shot a making it on her own terms. She’d taken that chance.

She hadn’t done half-bad for herself, McCoy had to admit. But then, neither had he. Especially considering where Pike had found him. Every day spent in solitary – it had worn on him, made him tired and angry and hungry for hurting things in ways he’d never been on the outside.

Pike had come, waving a shiny new medical license and a Fleet uniform, an offer too good to pass up. CMO of the Fleet’s fancy new darling of a flagship or shitting his bed out of boredom inside four walls with no windows? At least in space he’d see the stars.

The stars and pretty little officers all dressed up like they were real shitting captains. Uhura strode over to his table, tiny body full of energy and violence in a way that made her extra appealing to look at, and took the other seat without asking.

“McCoy, what the hell?” Uhura hadn’t really counted on Kirk coming back. She surveyed the emaciated man – she’d teased him about his slim hips but this was ridiculous – sitting slightly behind the doctor, watching everything from those haunted blue eyes.

Uhura was the one chaffing now, all the power she’d thought she had coming with a ride-along, circumscribed from being absolute. She had the ship. But McCoy had his sickbay. And she’d eventually need it, need him. Pike had given McCoy more than he’d expected – but he’d still fucked them both because they were stuck with each other.

“You want to make this an official conversation, we can take it back to your office… Captain.” The pause was significant, not quite insulting but certainly not currying favor.

Her headshake was minimal but definite. Their dependence on one another wasn’t known – and she’d prefer to keep it that way. McCoy had never made a play for power that Uhura knew of but he’d have all of her enemies rallying behind him if the stalemate became common knowledge.

“Kirk.” Uhura acknowledged him at least. He had his rank, she’d checked the computer records. He’d need McCoy to clear him for duty before he could set foot on the bridge and even then Uhura wasn’t about to trust the blond man. But it wasn’t entirely unpleasant to see him alive, especially if being in the good doctor’s care mean McCoy had something invested in him. There was some sort of opportunity here, she just had to sniff it out.

Comments

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

He kept his head back and his eyes closed, relaxed.

"Just enough to tweak her direct in the brainpan. She's got some info on you I bet she's not sharing, though - greedy fucking woman. Her husband has a higher clearance, which comes in useful from time to goddamn time. What do you want her to know?"

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Kirk knew that, that tidbit about Tarsus being proof enough. "I figure there's not a lot I could tell a woman like that she doesn't already know," he said. "I, on the other hand, don't know shit about her." Though it was clear McCoy trusted her. Which was interesting, under the circumstances. "She trust you?"

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

"Jocelyn McCoy" McCoy almost sounded goddamn nostalgic. "I reckon she does. In most things. Feeling's fucking mutual." He raised his glass in something like a contemplative, long-distance toast.

"Don't let face fool you - that woman is a steel trap. She's got a brain working all the time behind some truly vapid fucking expressions. Which she practice, I tell you goddamn what."

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Kirk knew all about that, from both sides. He also figured anyone McCoy would talk about in that tone wasn't just some pieces of snatch. Though he had no doubt that, too, was quality.

"How'd you meet?" he prompted, both because the two of them made no sense and because he wanted to keep McCoy talking, while he was in the mood.

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

He cracked an eye open at that but the lid settled back into place and McCoy settled deeper, slouched more comfortably.

"Nosy fucker. Met at this fucking orgy thing my boss at the time had set up - fucking sex party weekends, Blue, are more trouble than they are worth. I figured to work it as a favor and she figured to... not work it. Looked like the most interesting piece of snatch there and she weren't bored by me either. Had ourselves a hell of a first date."

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

He said nosy, but he answered. McCoy didn't seem to mind talking about Jocelyn. Seemed to make him nostalgic, which only heightened Kirk's curiosity.

"Sounds it," he said. "Guess you both got more than you bargained for. And worth the trouble."

He took another swallow, studying McCoy as if there was an answer there.

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

"Sure as shit didn't bargain for any of that - but we had fun."

McCoy didn't talk about his past - but the comms from Jos and the fresh plotting....

"Could have fun again; I wouldn't be opposed. I just ain't very good at her political endeavors. For a wide variety of reasons."

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Something clicked for Kirk then, again without his fully knowing it. A way that he fit here, between or beside them, filling in the gaps that had separated them by light years. He was right about where McCoy was most comfortable, but he wanted Jocelyn. Wanted something more. What if Kirk could bring her back to him?

What would that be worth? What did Kirk want?

"We all have our strengths," he pointed out needlessly, though there was an edge there, too, that he knew they sometimes needed combining. "And your girl? She must be some sort of prodigy."

Or a complete fucking mess. Or both.

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

He sat up at that, knocked back the rest of his drink and reached for his comm. "Chapel, get your ass over here."

McCoy stood, paced to his closet and pulled out a shirt at random, a non-uniform shirt that looked cozy and just a little threadbare.

"I got me an errand to run. Chapel'll sit with you - figure you ought not be alone just yet."

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

With McCoy, it was impossible to tell whether he'd fucked up, or the man was just crazy and done. He set his glass down on the table. His eyes followed McCoy around the room.

"I don't need a babysitter," he said. "What do you think I'm gonna do?"

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

"Not concerned about what you're going to do - just hosting the way my mama taught me."

Or something like that. Kirk should still be under medical observation - organ failure, collapse, anything could still happen.

"Won't be long. You'll like Chapel. Just don't touch her - and that's a bit of friendly warning."

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Kirk wasn't fooled, unless McCoy's house had been even stranger than he suspected. He watched McCoy through narrowed eyes. He resisted the urge to ask where McCoy was going, not knowing why he wanted to know. Why he didn't want McCoy to leave.

"I'm keeping my hands to myself lately," he said. Warning against Chapel's reaction? or his own? No, McCoy didn't seem like the jealous type.

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

The door chimed and McCoy favored Kirk with a full-on grin.

"That's a sound strategy, especially with some of my nurses." He turned back toward the door - let Chapel enter when it slid aside before stepping out himself.

"I won't be but a little while - Chapel, he ain't a toy."

He looked at the mess of yarn and sticks in her hand and raised an eyebrow at her. The blonde woman sniffed disdainfully - but she nodded.

The door closed behind her.

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Kirk stared at Chapel for a moment. There didn't seem to be much else to do. Chapel creeped him out a little. Something about the distance of her manner, the seeming indifference to the scars on her face, the... knitting. He leaned back, and put one thin arm along the back of the couch.

"What shit you step in to pull this duty?" he asked, trying on a sly little smile just out of habit.

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

McCoy moved quickly through the halls, thankful that the walk to Sickbay was short, that his office was so securely locked once he was inside. He sat in his chair and took a long, slow series of deep breaths.

Chapel moved deeper into McCoy's quarters, familiar enough that it was evident she had been there before. She took the chair that McCoy usually occupied, when he wasn't cozying up to Kirk on the sofa, and shook out her knitting.

A sock. She was knitting a sock with a variety of needles.

"I think the better question is what you did to deserve me instead of one of the others." She looked at her knitting, not at Kirk.

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Was it? She wasn't looking up, but that meant fuck-all considering how many possibilities there were.

"What do you think?" His smirk was full-blown now, audible in his voice as well. Chapel had a reputation as a bitch with a good knife hand but fuck if he was going to sit here and watch her knit for however long it took. He got up, needing the support of the sofa's arm for only an instant though the blue stuff was working its magic. "I'm hungry. You want anything?"

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

She did look up at that. "I think if he'd fucked you, you wouldn't be walking. But you must be interesting for some reason."

Five stitches, she counted each one carefully.

"Pizza. Hawaiian style."

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

He grinned at that, just to keep her wondering, and ordered. Pizza sounded fantastic. It was there in seconds, steaming and soaking pineapple juice into the cheese. Some programming asshole must love Hawaiian pizza, he thought.

He set it down and grabbed a slice, lounging back on the couch as if he owned the place.

"Are you?" he asked. "Aside from how you take it, I mean."

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

Chapel finished the row before she placed her knitting aside, precise and careful. She inhaled the aroma of the pizza.

"Bones has a wide variety of interests. We have a few things in common."

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

"Now that is interesting," Kirk said, smiling and taking another bite. The slice was half-devoured. Was she going to eat, or just take in the sights? "Why do you call him Bones?"

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

Her small bites were as neat and tidy as her tiny stitches. Chapel chewed and swallowed and wiped her mouth on a napkin before she spoke.

"Because that's what he is and that's what he sees - he probably also sees your organs but that isn't nearly as catchy now, is it?"

Chapel didn't smile. But her head tilted with a desultory sort of humor.

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

The girl was batshit insane. No two ways about it.

"You got me there," he agreed. Her fastidiousness, too, was off-putting and unnatural. "So what do you two do for fun?"

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

Her pizza was disappearing efficiently now that she'd tucked in.

"I'm honestly not entirely sure I have... fun. But we fuck. We break things. It's generally enjoyable. I think I'd enjoy some of his more esoteric experiments but Bones is a private man."

[behnd-blueyes.livejournal.com]

Kirk wondered if he was one of those experiments, or if McCoy--or Chapel--thought he was. He was pretty sure she was one, though.

"Yeah?" He reached for another slice, taking a moment to judge whether it was a good idea. It didn't seem to be a horrible one. "Are the fucking and breaking related, I wonder?"

[sharpestscalpel.livejournal.com]

Chapel was not an ugly woman, even with her scar. But her laugh made her ugly for a second, the brittle sound in contrast with the pink-red of her mouth, the flash of her eyes.

"Do you think he fucks me because I'm broken or that I'm broken because he fucks me?"

It was, in a truth she was careful never to consider, some of both.