FIC: Horchata (Kirk/McCoy, PG)
May. 15th, 2011 04:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_water_clockAuthor: Clio
Title: Horchata
Pairing: Star Trek: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Rating: PG
Summary: When Jim stops off for beverages before picking Joanna up at the Vampire Weekend concert, he runs into a familiar-looking stranger in a black hat.
Length: 750 words
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created by Gene Roddenberry and owned by one of the large media companies in a complicated arrangement to which I am not a signatory. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: Written for the Vampire Weekend challenge at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
jim_and_bones. Set in the same Hollywood 'verse as Our Life is Not a Movie or Maybe, a year after the epilogue of that story.
January, 2011
After two years of being with Leonard and a year of living together, Jim had decided that the unexpected thing about having an actual partner was the whole sharing of duties part.
So when Joanna’s absolute favorite band, Vampire Weekend, played a show at The Music Box—”the first show of their tour, Dad, I have to go!”—Leonard had no problem with Jim using his pull to get Joanna and her friends great seats, no problem refusing her backstage passes—”You know where a bunch of sixteen year old girls don’t need to be? Backstage at a rock concert!”—and no problem staying home putting two-year-old David to bed—”Jim, they rhyme horchata with aranciata! I can’t”— while Jim dropped the girls off at the theater.
Jim then went over to their bungalow at Fleet Pictures, which was only a few blocks away, to work on some prep for the lady pirate move that Pike had finally greenlit. The text he received a couple of hours later letting him know the girls were waiting for the encore had about twenty exclamation points, so it was probably best that Leonard had sat this one out. Jim had a little more patience for Joanna and her friends when they were overexcited than Leonard did.
On his way back to the theater, at Joanna’s request, Jim stopped at a little taqueria on Vine to get horchata for everyone. Ahead of him in line was a guy in a long coat and a broad-brimmed black hat, which was not that unusual in the heart of Hollywood. Then he turned to the side, and damn if he didn’t look just like—
“Bones?” Jim asked, though he knew better; Leonard was at home with David.
“I’m not your Bones,” the man said, turning to face Jim more fully, and no, he wasn’t.
He was wearing some cool glowing contacts, though, and Jim was just about to ask where he got them when the man looked him up and down, slowly. When Leonard did that it just about set Jim on fire; with this man he felt the cold down to his marrow.
“But I wish I was,” said the man. He smiled—were those fangs? Because if so they were the really expensive dental-implant kind, and that took dedication, not to mention cash—then departed in a swirl of his coat.
The kid at the counter shook his head. “Man, that guy was weird.”
“Yeah, kinda,” Jim said, still feeling a little chill in the air.
Once he picked up the girls, though, they warmed him up—hard to feel eerie in a Volvo station wagon with four teenage girls alternately singing along to the new album and talking a mile a minute about whether Ezra or Rostam or Chris or Chris had been looking at them during the show. Happily the drive calmed them down enough that Leonard wouldn’t react too bearishly. The girls were all sleeping downstairs in the rec room anyway; it was a weeknight and Jim was driving them all into school the next day.
Leonard was in the kitchen when they got home, and after a quick hello and thank you from all the girls and a hug from Jo they all went off to their slumber party.
“Horchata?” Jim asked, offering Leonard a cup. “What are you drinking?”
“Bloody mary,” Leonard replied. “I had a craving.”
“You know, Bones,” Jim said, reminded of the weird guy in the taqueria, “you should wear more hats.”
Leonard cocked his head. “Is this about that cowboy thing again? Because chaps are just not comfortable when worn by themselves.”
“Are you saying you won’t put up with a little discomfort for the sake of beauty, even for me?”
“But I don’t have to dress up to get you hot, do I, darlin’?” Leonard asked, giving him that slow look up and down.
“No,” Jim whispered, all lingering chill gone in the heat of Leonard’s gaze. He realized the man in the taqueria wasn’t anything like his Bones, at all.
Leonard drained his bloody mary and put the two cups of horchata in the fridge. “Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll show my appreciation for your driving the girls tonight.”
“Please,” Jim replied, as words were a little beyond him.
As Leonard took his hand and led him upstairs Jim thought that this partnership stuff was the best.
Title: Horchata
Pairing: Star Trek: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Rating: PG
Summary: When Jim stops off for beverages before picking Joanna up at the Vampire Weekend concert, he runs into a familiar-looking stranger in a black hat.
Length: 750 words
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created by Gene Roddenberry and owned by one of the large media companies in a complicated arrangement to which I am not a signatory. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: Written for the Vampire Weekend challenge at
jim_and_bones. Set in the same Hollywood 'verse as Our Life is Not a Movie or Maybe, a year after the epilogue of that story.January, 2011
After two years of being with Leonard and a year of living together, Jim had decided that the unexpected thing about having an actual partner was the whole sharing of duties part.
So when Joanna’s absolute favorite band, Vampire Weekend, played a show at The Music Box—”the first show of their tour, Dad, I have to go!”—Leonard had no problem with Jim using his pull to get Joanna and her friends great seats, no problem refusing her backstage passes—”You know where a bunch of sixteen year old girls don’t need to be? Backstage at a rock concert!”—and no problem staying home putting two-year-old David to bed—”Jim, they rhyme horchata with aranciata! I can’t”— while Jim dropped the girls off at the theater.
Jim then went over to their bungalow at Fleet Pictures, which was only a few blocks away, to work on some prep for the lady pirate move that Pike had finally greenlit. The text he received a couple of hours later letting him know the girls were waiting for the encore had about twenty exclamation points, so it was probably best that Leonard had sat this one out. Jim had a little more patience for Joanna and her friends when they were overexcited than Leonard did.
On his way back to the theater, at Joanna’s request, Jim stopped at a little taqueria on Vine to get horchata for everyone. Ahead of him in line was a guy in a long coat and a broad-brimmed black hat, which was not that unusual in the heart of Hollywood. Then he turned to the side, and damn if he didn’t look just like—
“Bones?” Jim asked, though he knew better; Leonard was at home with David.
“I’m not your Bones,” the man said, turning to face Jim more fully, and no, he wasn’t.
He was wearing some cool glowing contacts, though, and Jim was just about to ask where he got them when the man looked him up and down, slowly. When Leonard did that it just about set Jim on fire; with this man he felt the cold down to his marrow.
“But I wish I was,” said the man. He smiled—were those fangs? Because if so they were the really expensive dental-implant kind, and that took dedication, not to mention cash—then departed in a swirl of his coat.
The kid at the counter shook his head. “Man, that guy was weird.”
“Yeah, kinda,” Jim said, still feeling a little chill in the air.
Once he picked up the girls, though, they warmed him up—hard to feel eerie in a Volvo station wagon with four teenage girls alternately singing along to the new album and talking a mile a minute about whether Ezra or Rostam or Chris or Chris had been looking at them during the show. Happily the drive calmed them down enough that Leonard wouldn’t react too bearishly. The girls were all sleeping downstairs in the rec room anyway; it was a weeknight and Jim was driving them all into school the next day.
Leonard was in the kitchen when they got home, and after a quick hello and thank you from all the girls and a hug from Jo they all went off to their slumber party.
“Horchata?” Jim asked, offering Leonard a cup. “What are you drinking?”
“Bloody mary,” Leonard replied. “I had a craving.”
“You know, Bones,” Jim said, reminded of the weird guy in the taqueria, “you should wear more hats.”
Leonard cocked his head. “Is this about that cowboy thing again? Because chaps are just not comfortable when worn by themselves.”
“Are you saying you won’t put up with a little discomfort for the sake of beauty, even for me?”
“But I don’t have to dress up to get you hot, do I, darlin’?” Leonard asked, giving him that slow look up and down.
“No,” Jim whispered, all lingering chill gone in the heat of Leonard’s gaze. He realized the man in the taqueria wasn’t anything like his Bones, at all.
Leonard drained his bloody mary and put the two cups of horchata in the fridge. “Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll show my appreciation for your driving the girls tonight.”
“Please,” Jim replied, as words were a little beyond him.
As Leonard took his hand and led him upstairs Jim thought that this partnership stuff was the best.
