FIC: The Sun Rising (Kirk/McCoy, PG)
Apr. 30th, 2010 12:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_water_clockAuthor: Clio
Title: The Sun Rising
Pairing: Star Trek: James T. Kirk/Leonard McCoy
Rating: PG
Summary: At the end of the Enterprise's five-year mission, the trip home is livened up for Jim by a secret admirer. Bones, annoyingly, isn't jealous at all.
Length: 3400 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: So over at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
team_jones we had a weekend prompting party where ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
linelenagain asked for a fluffy story where Jim had a secret admirer, and I was inspired. Here is that comment fic cleaned up with some multimedia flourishes, including a soundtrack.
HUGE thanks tokitsune13, who helped me whip another comment fic into an actual story. The poems referred to are "Song (Go and Catch a Falling Star)," "Twickenham Garden," "The Dream," and "The Sun Rising," all by John Donne.
[stardate 2263.45]
Jim stretched, rolled over into cold, empty sheets, and tried to force himself out of bed. The Enterprise five-year mission had come to an end, so for the next two weeks the crew would be flying through Federation-controlled space on their way back to Earth. It was a good time to give some of the junior officers a last chance to run a shift on their own, like subbing in the second string when you're up by twenty points. Unfortunately it also meant that for the next week Bones would be on delta shift while Jim was on alpha. Jim hated being off-shift from Bones, absolutely hated it, even though he was the one who'd approved the schedules.
No work and no Bones to play with was going to lead to a very grouchy Kirk. He asked the computer for his cheering-up music, and made his way into the shower. At least there was breakfast with Bones to look forward to, as he got off shift and Jim went on.
Walking into the hall Jim nearly stumbled over a small package sitting just outside his door, which turned out to be an old-fashioned paper book: "The Sun Rising and Other Poems" by John Donne. Jim wasn't entirely shocked; it was well-known among the crew that Jim liked poetry, though as Donne wrote so many love poems it was a little forward. On the inside cover was a note:
Even though we rarely see the sun
Each morn that I see you is a bright one
Jim smiled to himself. It wasn't like Bones not to take credit for gifts, but back when they were first dating Bones had been given to the occasional couplet. Well, at least he'd have a book if the bridge became too dull to handle. He went down to the mess hall and, finding Bones sitting in the corner, decided to tease him. "Bones, I think you have competition," Jim said, sitting down across from him.
"Oh?" Bones said mildly, not looking up from his post-shift breakfast of eggs and cheese grits
Jim smiled and waved the book at him. "I just found this outside my door this morning," he replied, handing it over to Bones.
"Poetry, huh?" Bones asked, wiping his hands before taking it. He opened it, and read the note on the inside cover. "Hey, it rhymes."
"I thought it was kinda sweet," Jim said.
"Sure," Bones replied, handing it back.
Jim cocked his head; maybe it wasn't from Bones after all. "You didn't—"
"Give you a book of love poems? What do you think?" Bones asked. "Anyway I'm sure I'm not your only admirer."
"Aren't you even a little jealous?" he asked, scowling.
"Jim, if I got jealous every time you caught someone's eye I'd be cranky most of the time."
"You are cranky most of the time," Jim replied.
"Crankier, then. Besides," Bones said, and then he opened his mouth, just slightly, and did this thing with his tongue that he usually reserved for the more sensitive parts of Jim's body.
"Um," Jim said, feeling his own mouth go dry.
"Exactly," Bones replied with a little grin. "Anyway, I know I can trust you."
"Of course," Jim said.
"So there you go." Bones stood. "I'm off to bed. Try not to run into anything."
"We're sailing through pretty safe space for the next week or two, Bones," Jim said.
"Yeah, but you'd do it just out of boredom," Bones said. He leaned in for a quick kiss before walking away.
Jim turned the book over in his hand. Come to think of it, those little notes from Bones were usually sent electronically, and he hadn't received one in—well, Jim couldn't actually remember the last time, though he'd saved every one.
It was probably nothing—some ensign who'd gotten up the courage to send him a little something at the end of their time together—but it was nice and he wished he could express his appreciation. He'd woken up annoyed about the boring week ahead, but now he walked to the bridge with a bit more of a spring in his step.
[stardate 2263.46]
Jim had decided to read one poem per night from his new book, which now sat on his bedside table. He'd been thinking during that day's uneventful journey about falling stars and mermaids singing and the nearly two thousand days and nights he'd ridden with this crew. Not an undue amount of sentiment for the end of a mission such as theirs, he felt, and at least the poems would keep his mind occupied since the bridge definitely was not.
But he was no closer to finding out who had sent the book. Jim was in the mess, eating his dinner and going through a list of suspects, when Scotty sat down opposite him.
"Trying to track down that secret admirer, I see," he said, grinning.
Jim looked up. "All over the ship already?" he asked.
"Probably," Scotty said, "though in engineering we do get the scuttlebutt early. Have any ideas?"
"No good ones," Jim said, and set aside his PADD. It was then he noticed a piece of pie on the other tray. "Scotty, is that what I think it is?" he asked.
"Lemon merengue pie, aye," Scotty replied. "We've been calibrating the replicators. Egg dishes are tricky."
"Hmm," Jim said, unconvinced. "I've never had replicated pie that came close to my Grandma Kirk's," he said.
Scotty handed over the plate. "Try this."
Jim licked his fork and regarded the pie. It certainly looked the part, with sunshine-yellow lemon curd and the requisite "mile-high" topping of frothy, lightly browned meringue. He forked off a neat bite.
"Well?" Scotty asked.
Jim realized he'd closed his eyes, and didn't want to swallow just yet. "Mmm," he said, letting the curd melt slowly on his tongue.
Scotty chuckled. "So we finally got it, have we?"
Jim nodded. "Perfection, Scotty," he said. "What made you think of it?"
"Oh, it came in the suggestion box," Scotty said. "I remembered you'd mentioned it, and it sounded like a good project for Gaila."
"Well, she certainly rose to the challenge," Jim replied.
[stardate 2263.47]
Jim went into his ready room at the start of alpha shift to find three sunflowers in a large vase in the middle of the table with no note attached. He poked his head back out the door and called for Sulu to come in.
"Yes, Captain?" he asked.
"Did you put these here?" Jim asked.
"Yes, sir, I did," Sulu replied.
"So they're from you?" Jim asked, scowling in confusion. He'd thought Sulu and Chekov were becoming serious and anyway, everyone knew about him and Bones.
"No," Sulu said. "They were wrapped up in the botany lab, with directions that they were to go to you, and I thought I'd save someone a trip since I was coming on shift anyway."
"Oh," Jim said. "Do you know who sent them?"
"I assumed you knew." Sulu cocked his head.
"Actually no, I don't," Jim replied. "Do you think they'll last until the next senior staff meeting?"
"With the right care they'll be here a week or so," Sulu said. "I can do that for you."
"You wouldn't mind?" Jim asked. "Never been good with plants or flowers."
"Not at all," Sulu replied. "They grew so well, it would be a shame to let them down now."
"Thanks," Jim said, nodding. He traced one finger across a broad petal. Hither I come to seek the spring.
"Sir?" Sulu asked.
Jim blinked; had he said that out loud? "Nothing, just some poetry," he replied. "I'll, uh, I'll be out on the bridge in a minute."
Sulu nodded and left Jim staring at the large yellow flowers. Someone had to have planned this far enough in advance to grow sunflowers in the lab, but with the way favors were traded on board ship it could be anyone.
[stardate 2263.48]
For much of the day Jim was left wondering. Nothing had materialized before or during alpha shift, and Bones hadn't given as much weight to the flowers or the pie as Jim had, which made him feel a little silly. He decided to go back to in his quarters, unwind a bit with some poetry before going to wake up Bones and spend some time with him before he reported to sickbay. He felt rather a little sorry for whomever had given it to him, because every poem he read made him think of Bones:
But when I saw thou sawest my heart,
And knew'st my thoughts, beyond an Angels art,
When thou knew'st what I dreamt
Okay, so Donne was actually talking about a sex dream but even that wasn't really so far off.
Jim had only just sat down with his book when someone rang the door—Chekov, standing in the hall with a glass on a tray, as if he were a butler.
"Come in," he said. "What is this?"
"I have to say, sir, that I do not generally believe in vodka in cocktails," Chekov said, not exactly answering the question. "But the request as I understood it was for something yellow, perhaps pineapple? I have fulfilled the latter, if not the former."
Jim held the glass up to the light. "Well, it is yellow-ish, I suppose," he said. "So it isn't a cocktail?"
"Infused vodka, this I can do," Chekov said. He pulled a bottle from behind his back.
Jim took a sip of the cold liquid, and sure enough, it was bursting with pineapple sweetness. "Chekov, this is lovely."
"Yes, it came out quite well," he replied. "The first batch, it was not so good." He scowled and rubbed his stomach.
"Aha!" Jim said. "That mysterious bug you and Sulu and Scotty had last week!"
"A problem with the seal," Chekov said. He set the bottle down on the table. "But this bottle is fine."
"I figured Sulu knew more about those flowers than he let on," JIm said. "So the three of you are behind this? The book and the flowers and the pie?"
Chekov cocked his head. "I don't know what you mean, Captain," he replied. "As I said, it was requested."
"By whom?" Jim asked.
"They did not leave a name," Chekov said. "They just—"
"Did you a favor?" Jim asked.
Chekov nodded. "And it was an interesting task." He hesitated, then said, "If that is all, sir?"
Jim blinked. "Oh, yes. Thanks, Chekov."
Jim sat down and looked at the bottle as he sipped more of the pineapple vodka. Surely Bones wouldn't be able to discount this. Little gifts, to be sure—nothing of great material value—but thoughtful. Jim was used to having the eyes of the entire ship on him, but he had to wonder who had observed him so closely.
[stardate 2263.49]
At the gym after shift, Jim was going through his personal music directory—all this poetry with its metaphors and allusions had him craving the superficial directness of pop lyrics— and realized there was a new batch of songs. He checked the tracker and saw that the last person who'd been in the files was Uhura, which wasn't particularly surprising as they often shared music. The new list was the usual late 20th century popular stuff that they both liked—a few Beatles songs, some Ella, some soul. He saw Uhura on the track and ran to catch up.
"Captain," she said as he fell into stride with her.
"Lieutenant," he replied. "Where did you get these new songs?"
"Oh," she said, smiling a little. "I got a message asking me to make up a list of songs about the sun and send them to you."
Jim shook his head, annoyed that he hadn't noticed that yes, all those new songs did have "sun" in the title. "I don't suppose you can tell me who made that request?" he said.
"Afraid not," she replied.
"Well, I hope you got something good out of it," he said.
She smiled, Mona Lisa-like. "Actually …"
Jim held up a hand. "Don't worry," he said, "I won't ask."
"It's probably better that you don't," she replied.
[stardate 2263.50]
Jim was looking forward to his regular chess game with Spock. (Or really, his regular lesson in how to lose a game to Spock, but Jim didn't like to contemplate unnecessary details like that.) He wondered what Spock would make of Donne—on the one hand, the metaphysical poets weren't entirely logical, but on the other hand, the guy had performed old love songs with Uhura in front of the rest of the crew, so it could go either way.
But as he walked into the recreation room he saw that the chess board didn't look quite right, and Spock was standing and staring at it. "Hey," Jim said, "that's not my set."
"Is it not?" Spock said, picking up a pawn. "It is very handsome. I thought perhaps it was a recent gift or purchase?"
Jim looked at the set more closely. It was certainly well made, delicately forged from metals he couldn't identify. He looked closer at the king, and smiled.
"Jim?" Spock asked. "Do you recognize it?"
"Louis Quatorze," he replied. "And Marie-Therese of Spain," he said, pointing at the queen, "and the bishop is Cardinal Mazarin."
"Chess sets based on ancient rulers are not unusual," Spock said, "though I admit I do not understand the significance of a seventeenth-century French king. I did not think you had French heritage."
"He's not just any French king," Jim replied. "Louis XIV was known as the Sun King." He shook his head. "I don't suppose you have any idea who replaced my chess set with this one?"
Spock cocked his head, but didn't answer.
"Yeah, I didn't think so." Jim said down, replacing the king. "Well, maybe the new set will bring me luck."
"I have never known you to be lacking in luck, Jim," Spock replied.
Jim raised an eyebrow. "I might have liked you better before you started making jokes at my expense, Spock," he replied.
[stardate 2263.51]
After six days of gifts Jim just decided to go with it. Bones thought it was "cute" that Jim had a secret admirer, and his steadfast refusal to be jealous or even wary did take a little of the fun out of the thing, but only a little. It had certainly livened up what had seemed at the outset to be a dull, vaguely annoying week. He was coming back to his quarters, sweaty from a fencing lesson with Sulu, to see Rand propping a large package up on his desk.
"Hey Jan," he said. "What's that?"
"Well, since you're here, you can unwrap it," she said, handing it to him.
He pulled off the brown paper to reveal a small painting of the sun rising over a white farmhouse. "Wow," he said, setting the painting down on his desk. "Jan, did you paint this?"
She smiled and nodded. "I was sent a few images to work from," she said.
"Well, you did an amazing job capturing it, especially for never having been there."
"Where is it?" she asked. "They didn't say."
Jim turned to her. "Let me guess: an anonymous request, in exchange for a favor? Must have been some favor."
Janice shook her head. "I was commissioned," she said. "Paid fair and square, and before you ask, no, there are no regulations against it."
Jim waved his hand. "Even if there were, I'm sure we could work around it." His eyes went back to the painting. "So all week you listened to me wonder who this secret admirer is, knowing that this was coming."
"I still don't know who it is," Janice replied. "And you didn't answer my question, Captain."
"Sorry," Jim replied. "That's Tiberius's farm, where my father grew up. I spent summers there." He smiled.
"How lovely," Janice said. "Oh, I nearly forgot." She reached into her bag. "This is for you."
Jim took the soft yellow envelope, and pulled out the matching card inside. "It's true there is no sun in space. But if you meet me in the place where stars are seen for ev'ning meal tomorrow, all will be revealed."
"Goodness," Janice said. "Will you go?"
"Of course," Jim said. "Well, I'll talk to Bones about it first, but yes. If only to say thank you."
After dinner, Jim went to wake up Bones and show him the painting and the note before his last overnight shift of the week. They both had the next day off, and then they were both on alpha shift until they reached Jupiter Station.
"Well," Bones said, after he'd admired the painting and read the note, "I think they deserve a meeting, don't you?"
"Yes," Jim said, "but it could get awkward."
"You can handle it," Bones replied. "I trust you do let them down easy, if you need to."
Jim cocked his head. "You're really not jealous at all, are you?"
"I'm not jealous of people who pay attention to you, because that's damn near everyone," he said. "And I've stopped being jealous of the people you pay attention to, because that's your job. Or people you flirt with, because that's your way." He ran a hand through his hair. "Of course, if anyone tried to take you away from me …"
"Then you'd get jealous?" Jim asked.
"Not get jealous," Bones replied. "Get rid of them."
Jim laughed. "Leonard McCoy, I do believe you are in love with me."
"Yeah, well, get into this bed and I'll show you just how much," Bones said, and Jim promptly forgot about all other admirers, secret or otherwise.
[stardate 2263.52]
Jim spent much of his day off in his quarters reading Donne poetry. Bones was scarce, probably sleeping off that last overnight, but they'd planned to meet after Jim's secret dinner.
After some thought, he decided to go up to the Observation Deck out of uniform. Captain's gold seemed unnecessarily intimidating, if all of this was from some shy ensign, and if it wasn't, well, civvies just felt more appropriate.
He came around the corner and up the stairs, and saw that the lights had been turned down low, a lovely spread was laid out on a table for two, and Bones was standing by the table, looking handsome in black and grey.
Jim grinned. "I knew it was you," he said.
"What gave me away?" he asked.
"The music," Jim replied. "There aren't many people on board this ship who can call in a favor from Uhura, and Spock doesn't trade enough in favors to get them from everyone else. But the chess set sealed it; I'm pretty sure Scotty hasn't read enough ancient European history to make that connection."
Bones nodded. "Disappointed?" he asked.
"Hell no," Jim replied. "I hoped it was you, from the beginning."
"So all that asking about whether I was jealous was just you trying to get me to break down and tell you?" he asked.
"Kinda, after a while anyway," Jim replied. "So, why the sun?"
"Isn't that obvious?" Bones asked. "The command gold, the hair, the stars, the willingness to be the center of attention. It suits you."
Jim nodded. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling suddenly nervous.
"Actually," Bones continued, "I was wondering if you'd like some more gold."
Jim looked up. "Oh? What kind?"
"The kind you wear on your finger," Bones said.
Their eyes locked, and Jim could see that Bones was nervous, too, but he had to make sure. "Forever?" he asked.
"If you're willing," Bones said.
Jim wanted to laugh, but his breath was caught in his chest, and after the week Bones had given him, just saying "yes" didn't feel like enough. He thought of the book, and then said, "Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time."
Title: The Sun Rising
Pairing: Star Trek: James T. Kirk/Leonard McCoy
Rating: PG
Summary: At the end of the Enterprise's five-year mission, the trip home is livened up for Jim by a secret admirer. Bones, annoyingly, isn't jealous at all.
Length: 3400 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: So over at
team_jones we had a weekend prompting party where linelenagain asked for a fluffy story where Jim had a secret admirer, and I was inspired. Here is that comment fic cleaned up with some multimedia flourishes, including a soundtrack.HUGE thanks to
kitsune13, who helped me whip another comment fic into an actual story. The poems referred to are "Song (Go and Catch a Falling Star)," "Twickenham Garden," "The Dream," and "The Sun Rising," all by John Donne.Jim stretched, rolled over into cold, empty sheets, and tried to force himself out of bed. The Enterprise five-year mission had come to an end, so for the next two weeks the crew would be flying through Federation-controlled space on their way back to Earth. It was a good time to give some of the junior officers a last chance to run a shift on their own, like subbing in the second string when you're up by twenty points. Unfortunately it also meant that for the next week Bones would be on delta shift while Jim was on alpha. Jim hated being off-shift from Bones, absolutely hated it, even though he was the one who'd approved the schedules.
No work and no Bones to play with was going to lead to a very grouchy Kirk. He asked the computer for his cheering-up music, and made his way into the shower. At least there was breakfast with Bones to look forward to, as he got off shift and Jim went on.
Walking into the hall Jim nearly stumbled over a small package sitting just outside his door, which turned out to be an old-fashioned paper book: "The Sun Rising and Other Poems" by John Donne. Jim wasn't entirely shocked; it was well-known among the crew that Jim liked poetry, though as Donne wrote so many love poems it was a little forward. On the inside cover was a note:
Each morn that I see you is a bright one
Jim smiled to himself. It wasn't like Bones not to take credit for gifts, but back when they were first dating Bones had been given to the occasional couplet. Well, at least he'd have a book if the bridge became too dull to handle. He went down to the mess hall and, finding Bones sitting in the corner, decided to tease him. "Bones, I think you have competition," Jim said, sitting down across from him.
"Oh?" Bones said mildly, not looking up from his post-shift breakfast of eggs and cheese grits
Jim smiled and waved the book at him. "I just found this outside my door this morning," he replied, handing it over to Bones.
"Poetry, huh?" Bones asked, wiping his hands before taking it. He opened it, and read the note on the inside cover. "Hey, it rhymes."
"I thought it was kinda sweet," Jim said.
"Sure," Bones replied, handing it back.
Jim cocked his head; maybe it wasn't from Bones after all. "You didn't—"
"Give you a book of love poems? What do you think?" Bones asked. "Anyway I'm sure I'm not your only admirer."
"Aren't you even a little jealous?" he asked, scowling.
"Jim, if I got jealous every time you caught someone's eye I'd be cranky most of the time."
"You are cranky most of the time," Jim replied.
"Crankier, then. Besides," Bones said, and then he opened his mouth, just slightly, and did this thing with his tongue that he usually reserved for the more sensitive parts of Jim's body.
"Um," Jim said, feeling his own mouth go dry.
"Exactly," Bones replied with a little grin. "Anyway, I know I can trust you."
"Of course," Jim said.
"So there you go." Bones stood. "I'm off to bed. Try not to run into anything."
"We're sailing through pretty safe space for the next week or two, Bones," Jim said.
"Yeah, but you'd do it just out of boredom," Bones said. He leaned in for a quick kiss before walking away.
Jim turned the book over in his hand. Come to think of it, those little notes from Bones were usually sent electronically, and he hadn't received one in—well, Jim couldn't actually remember the last time, though he'd saved every one.
It was probably nothing—some ensign who'd gotten up the courage to send him a little something at the end of their time together—but it was nice and he wished he could express his appreciation. He'd woken up annoyed about the boring week ahead, but now he walked to the bridge with a bit more of a spring in his step.
Jim had decided to read one poem per night from his new book, which now sat on his bedside table. He'd been thinking during that day's uneventful journey about falling stars and mermaids singing and the nearly two thousand days and nights he'd ridden with this crew. Not an undue amount of sentiment for the end of a mission such as theirs, he felt, and at least the poems would keep his mind occupied since the bridge definitely was not.
But he was no closer to finding out who had sent the book. Jim was in the mess, eating his dinner and going through a list of suspects, when Scotty sat down opposite him.
"Trying to track down that secret admirer, I see," he said, grinning.
Jim looked up. "All over the ship already?" he asked.
"Probably," Scotty said, "though in engineering we do get the scuttlebutt early. Have any ideas?"
"No good ones," Jim said, and set aside his PADD. It was then he noticed a piece of pie on the other tray. "Scotty, is that what I think it is?" he asked.
"Lemon merengue pie, aye," Scotty replied. "We've been calibrating the replicators. Egg dishes are tricky."
"Hmm," Jim said, unconvinced. "I've never had replicated pie that came close to my Grandma Kirk's," he said.
Scotty handed over the plate. "Try this."
Jim licked his fork and regarded the pie. It certainly looked the part, with sunshine-yellow lemon curd and the requisite "mile-high" topping of frothy, lightly browned meringue. He forked off a neat bite.
"Well?" Scotty asked.
Jim realized he'd closed his eyes, and didn't want to swallow just yet. "Mmm," he said, letting the curd melt slowly on his tongue.
Scotty chuckled. "So we finally got it, have we?"
Jim nodded. "Perfection, Scotty," he said. "What made you think of it?"
"Oh, it came in the suggestion box," Scotty said. "I remembered you'd mentioned it, and it sounded like a good project for Gaila."
"Well, she certainly rose to the challenge," Jim replied.
Jim went into his ready room at the start of alpha shift to find three sunflowers in a large vase in the middle of the table with no note attached. He poked his head back out the door and called for Sulu to come in.
"Yes, Captain?" he asked.
"Did you put these here?" Jim asked.
"Yes, sir, I did," Sulu replied.
"So they're from you?" Jim asked, scowling in confusion. He'd thought Sulu and Chekov were becoming serious and anyway, everyone knew about him and Bones.
"No," Sulu said. "They were wrapped up in the botany lab, with directions that they were to go to you, and I thought I'd save someone a trip since I was coming on shift anyway."
"Oh," Jim said. "Do you know who sent them?"
"I assumed you knew." Sulu cocked his head.
"Actually no, I don't," Jim replied. "Do you think they'll last until the next senior staff meeting?"
"With the right care they'll be here a week or so," Sulu said. "I can do that for you."
"You wouldn't mind?" Jim asked. "Never been good with plants or flowers."
"Not at all," Sulu replied. "They grew so well, it would be a shame to let them down now."
"Thanks," Jim said, nodding. He traced one finger across a broad petal. Hither I come to seek the spring.
"Sir?" Sulu asked.
Jim blinked; had he said that out loud? "Nothing, just some poetry," he replied. "I'll, uh, I'll be out on the bridge in a minute."
Sulu nodded and left Jim staring at the large yellow flowers. Someone had to have planned this far enough in advance to grow sunflowers in the lab, but with the way favors were traded on board ship it could be anyone.
For much of the day Jim was left wondering. Nothing had materialized before or during alpha shift, and Bones hadn't given as much weight to the flowers or the pie as Jim had, which made him feel a little silly. He decided to go back to in his quarters, unwind a bit with some poetry before going to wake up Bones and spend some time with him before he reported to sickbay. He felt rather a little sorry for whomever had given it to him, because every poem he read made him think of Bones:
And knew'st my thoughts, beyond an Angels art,
When thou knew'st what I dreamt
Okay, so Donne was actually talking about a sex dream but even that wasn't really so far off.
Jim had only just sat down with his book when someone rang the door—Chekov, standing in the hall with a glass on a tray, as if he were a butler.
"Come in," he said. "What is this?"
"I have to say, sir, that I do not generally believe in vodka in cocktails," Chekov said, not exactly answering the question. "But the request as I understood it was for something yellow, perhaps pineapple? I have fulfilled the latter, if not the former."
Jim held the glass up to the light. "Well, it is yellow-ish, I suppose," he said. "So it isn't a cocktail?"
"Infused vodka, this I can do," Chekov said. He pulled a bottle from behind his back.
Jim took a sip of the cold liquid, and sure enough, it was bursting with pineapple sweetness. "Chekov, this is lovely."
"Yes, it came out quite well," he replied. "The first batch, it was not so good." He scowled and rubbed his stomach.
"Aha!" Jim said. "That mysterious bug you and Sulu and Scotty had last week!"
"A problem with the seal," Chekov said. He set the bottle down on the table. "But this bottle is fine."
"I figured Sulu knew more about those flowers than he let on," JIm said. "So the three of you are behind this? The book and the flowers and the pie?"
Chekov cocked his head. "I don't know what you mean, Captain," he replied. "As I said, it was requested."
"By whom?" Jim asked.
"They did not leave a name," Chekov said. "They just—"
"Did you a favor?" Jim asked.
Chekov nodded. "And it was an interesting task." He hesitated, then said, "If that is all, sir?"
Jim blinked. "Oh, yes. Thanks, Chekov."
Jim sat down and looked at the bottle as he sipped more of the pineapple vodka. Surely Bones wouldn't be able to discount this. Little gifts, to be sure—nothing of great material value—but thoughtful. Jim was used to having the eyes of the entire ship on him, but he had to wonder who had observed him so closely.
At the gym after shift, Jim was going through his personal music directory—all this poetry with its metaphors and allusions had him craving the superficial directness of pop lyrics— and realized there was a new batch of songs. He checked the tracker and saw that the last person who'd been in the files was Uhura, which wasn't particularly surprising as they often shared music. The new list was the usual late 20th century popular stuff that they both liked—a few Beatles songs, some Ella, some soul. He saw Uhura on the track and ran to catch up.
"Captain," she said as he fell into stride with her.
"Lieutenant," he replied. "Where did you get these new songs?"
"Oh," she said, smiling a little. "I got a message asking me to make up a list of songs about the sun and send them to you."
Jim shook his head, annoyed that he hadn't noticed that yes, all those new songs did have "sun" in the title. "I don't suppose you can tell me who made that request?" he said.
"Afraid not," she replied.
"Well, I hope you got something good out of it," he said.
She smiled, Mona Lisa-like. "Actually …"
Jim held up a hand. "Don't worry," he said, "I won't ask."
"It's probably better that you don't," she replied.
Jim was looking forward to his regular chess game with Spock. (Or really, his regular lesson in how to lose a game to Spock, but Jim didn't like to contemplate unnecessary details like that.) He wondered what Spock would make of Donne—on the one hand, the metaphysical poets weren't entirely logical, but on the other hand, the guy had performed old love songs with Uhura in front of the rest of the crew, so it could go either way.
But as he walked into the recreation room he saw that the chess board didn't look quite right, and Spock was standing and staring at it. "Hey," Jim said, "that's not my set."
"Is it not?" Spock said, picking up a pawn. "It is very handsome. I thought perhaps it was a recent gift or purchase?"
Jim looked at the set more closely. It was certainly well made, delicately forged from metals he couldn't identify. He looked closer at the king, and smiled.
"Jim?" Spock asked. "Do you recognize it?"
"Louis Quatorze," he replied. "And Marie-Therese of Spain," he said, pointing at the queen, "and the bishop is Cardinal Mazarin."
"Chess sets based on ancient rulers are not unusual," Spock said, "though I admit I do not understand the significance of a seventeenth-century French king. I did not think you had French heritage."
"He's not just any French king," Jim replied. "Louis XIV was known as the Sun King." He shook his head. "I don't suppose you have any idea who replaced my chess set with this one?"
Spock cocked his head, but didn't answer.
"Yeah, I didn't think so." Jim said down, replacing the king. "Well, maybe the new set will bring me luck."
"I have never known you to be lacking in luck, Jim," Spock replied.
Jim raised an eyebrow. "I might have liked you better before you started making jokes at my expense, Spock," he replied.
After six days of gifts Jim just decided to go with it. Bones thought it was "cute" that Jim had a secret admirer, and his steadfast refusal to be jealous or even wary did take a little of the fun out of the thing, but only a little. It had certainly livened up what had seemed at the outset to be a dull, vaguely annoying week. He was coming back to his quarters, sweaty from a fencing lesson with Sulu, to see Rand propping a large package up on his desk.
"Hey Jan," he said. "What's that?"
"Well, since you're here, you can unwrap it," she said, handing it to him.
He pulled off the brown paper to reveal a small painting of the sun rising over a white farmhouse. "Wow," he said, setting the painting down on his desk. "Jan, did you paint this?"
She smiled and nodded. "I was sent a few images to work from," she said.
"Well, you did an amazing job capturing it, especially for never having been there."
"Where is it?" she asked. "They didn't say."
Jim turned to her. "Let me guess: an anonymous request, in exchange for a favor? Must have been some favor."
Janice shook her head. "I was commissioned," she said. "Paid fair and square, and before you ask, no, there are no regulations against it."
Jim waved his hand. "Even if there were, I'm sure we could work around it." His eyes went back to the painting. "So all week you listened to me wonder who this secret admirer is, knowing that this was coming."
"I still don't know who it is," Janice replied. "And you didn't answer my question, Captain."
"Sorry," Jim replied. "That's Tiberius's farm, where my father grew up. I spent summers there." He smiled.
"How lovely," Janice said. "Oh, I nearly forgot." She reached into her bag. "This is for you."
Jim took the soft yellow envelope, and pulled out the matching card inside. "It's true there is no sun in space. But if you meet me in the place where stars are seen for ev'ning meal tomorrow, all will be revealed."
"Goodness," Janice said. "Will you go?"
"Of course," Jim said. "Well, I'll talk to Bones about it first, but yes. If only to say thank you."
After dinner, Jim went to wake up Bones and show him the painting and the note before his last overnight shift of the week. They both had the next day off, and then they were both on alpha shift until they reached Jupiter Station.
"Well," Bones said, after he'd admired the painting and read the note, "I think they deserve a meeting, don't you?"
"Yes," Jim said, "but it could get awkward."
"You can handle it," Bones replied. "I trust you do let them down easy, if you need to."
Jim cocked his head. "You're really not jealous at all, are you?"
"I'm not jealous of people who pay attention to you, because that's damn near everyone," he said. "And I've stopped being jealous of the people you pay attention to, because that's your job. Or people you flirt with, because that's your way." He ran a hand through his hair. "Of course, if anyone tried to take you away from me …"
"Then you'd get jealous?" Jim asked.
"Not get jealous," Bones replied. "Get rid of them."
Jim laughed. "Leonard McCoy, I do believe you are in love with me."
"Yeah, well, get into this bed and I'll show you just how much," Bones said, and Jim promptly forgot about all other admirers, secret or otherwise.
Jim spent much of his day off in his quarters reading Donne poetry. Bones was scarce, probably sleeping off that last overnight, but they'd planned to meet after Jim's secret dinner.
After some thought, he decided to go up to the Observation Deck out of uniform. Captain's gold seemed unnecessarily intimidating, if all of this was from some shy ensign, and if it wasn't, well, civvies just felt more appropriate.
He came around the corner and up the stairs, and saw that the lights had been turned down low, a lovely spread was laid out on a table for two, and Bones was standing by the table, looking handsome in black and grey.
Jim grinned. "I knew it was you," he said.
"What gave me away?" he asked.
"The music," Jim replied. "There aren't many people on board this ship who can call in a favor from Uhura, and Spock doesn't trade enough in favors to get them from everyone else. But the chess set sealed it; I'm pretty sure Scotty hasn't read enough ancient European history to make that connection."
Bones nodded. "Disappointed?" he asked.
"Hell no," Jim replied. "I hoped it was you, from the beginning."
"So all that asking about whether I was jealous was just you trying to get me to break down and tell you?" he asked.
"Kinda, after a while anyway," Jim replied. "So, why the sun?"
"Isn't that obvious?" Bones asked. "The command gold, the hair, the stars, the willingness to be the center of attention. It suits you."
Jim nodded. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling suddenly nervous.
"Actually," Bones continued, "I was wondering if you'd like some more gold."
Jim looked up. "Oh? What kind?"
"The kind you wear on your finger," Bones said.
Their eyes locked, and Jim could see that Bones was nervous, too, but he had to make sure. "Forever?" he asked.
"If you're willing," Bones said.
Jim wanted to laugh, but his breath was caught in his chest, and after the week Bones had given him, just saying "yes" didn't feel like enough. He thought of the book, and then said, "Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time."
