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08 March 2010 @ 10:21 am
Trek Fic: Of Sails and Ships and Sealing Wax (Pike/McCoy)  
Title: Of Sails and Ships and Sealing Wax (Part 2 of To Talk of Many Things - yeah, guess that means this is now a WiP. Whoops?)
Authors: mga1999 and skyblue_reverie
Fandom & Pairing: Star Trek Reboot (aka AOS, ST XI, etc.), Pike/McCoy
Rating: PG-13-ish, for sexual innuendo (*gasp*)
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Word Count: around 7000
Summary: The further correspondence of Leonard McCoy and Christopher Pike.
Disclaimer: Any resemblance to anything whatsoever is purely coincidental.
Authors' Notes: From skyblue_reverie (the loud one): Okay, so this thing is definitely going to be a series. I've cheated on my Jim/Bones OTP repeatedly now, and I'm planning to keep right on doing it. I REGRET NOTHING. From mga1999 (the quiet one): I want to THANK everyone for the wonderful feedback on our fic. I have read every comment, but am letting skyblue_reverie handle the replies because she is so much better at it than I am. Really. What started out as a 'we could do this for fun for ship wars' has turned into something that has taken over both of our minds. We have been having so much fun writing this together and look forward to writing more. So THANK YOU!

Previous Parts:
Part 1, Of Cabbages and Kings







Prologue:

To: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)
From: James T. Kirk (jkirk@starfleet.gov)

Dear Admiral Pike:

I am writing to apologize for hacking into the email correspondence between you and Doctor McCoy.

Fuck, I sound like a little kid who's been caught stealing and his mom is making him write a letter of apology (and I'd know). But that's how I feel.

Damn, Chris, you should have seen Bones. I've never seen him that mad, ever, and I've pulled some stupid shit in my day. He wasn't even doing the raging and snorting like an angry bull thing. He was quiet and calm. It was scary as shit. He told me that I'd broken the trust between me and him, and that I'd broken the trust between me and you. He also said that it was going to take time to repair the damage I'd done to my friendship with him, and probably with you too, and that hurts worst of all, because I know I deserve it.

I didn't mean to hurt either of you, or give you cause to distrust me, but I did, and for that I am truly sorry. I'm also sorry for - how did he put it? - "making light of a sensitive medical topic." I hope you know how much I value your mentorship and respect you as a person and an officer. And you already know how much Bones means to me. That I jeopardized either of those relationships - lesson learned.

I won't do it again. Well - let me qualify that. I won't do it again, unless it's a dire emergency. Fuck, Chris, if I never see Bones that mad again it'll be too soon.

I know it'll take time to earn back your trust, and if there's anything I can do, please let me know. Again, I really am sorry.

Respectfully,
James T. Kirk




To: James T. Kirk (jkirk@starfleet.gov)
From: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)

Kirk -

Apology accepted. Take an old man to dinner when you're planetside next week and we'll call it even.

Pike


***


To: Leonard H. McCoy (lmccoy@starfleet.gov)
From: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)

Dear Len,

The blank cursor has been blinking at me for twenty minutes now. I don't know why I suddenly find myself unsure what to say. Maybe it's because you only left a couple hours ago, but I still felt compelled to sit down and write to you. Since we have both been honest and upfront, I will admit I'm feeling a little uncertain now that you aren't here. Oh hell, I can look a Klingon in the eye without blinking, and right now, I'd almost rather do that than write this letter. Almost. So I guess it's time to stop being something I'm usually not, a coward, and just tell you what's on my mind.

I really enjoyed the time we spent together this week. I didn't know what to expect when we went to dinner. I want to thank you for... well, you made me feel like the chair didn't matter that night. I wasn't sure how to tell you this during the week, and I'm sorry I didn't. I know there were a lot of times this week that were awkward, and I take the blame for that. I wasn't myself. At all. I was afraid of messing things up. I told you I'm not good at these things. I can handle going to a bar, a starbase or a planet and finding someone to take home for the night, but I haven't had to think about anything beyond that for years. To be honest, I haven't wanted to. Going to Vanelli's at the old pier, the table by the window overlooking the bay, our easy conversation, and the walk after... If I said what I feel about that right now, I'd sound like a teenage girl instead of the hot-shot Captain of a flagship that I used to be.

I want to say more about the rest of the week, but I'm tired, have a headache, and I'm not feeling that well, to be honest, so I'm going to turn in. I just felt like I needed to say something before time passed since we kind of left things on an awkward note earlier.

Again, my fault. And I'm sorry.

Chris

p.s. I encoded these e-mails with my Admiral-level decryption cypher. That should keep Jim out, or it might make him even more determined. Damn kid can crack anything. But I don't think he'll bother us anymore.




From: Leonard H. McCoy (lmccoy@starfleet.gov)
To: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)

Dear Chris,

Good god, man, stop apologizing! You're making me feel like I've kicked a puppy, here. Okay, so we're both a little rusty at this. We'll figure it out. Cowardice, my ass. You don't have a cowardly bone in your body.

I have to admit it was nice to get back to my quarters after shift and find your note waiting for me. I had - well, I had a really great time spending the week with you. I'm going to say this once, and I'm not given to lying, so do not piss me off by doubting me: the chair does not matter. You are you, chair or no chair, and you're an extremely attractive man in every way. Don't think I didn't notice all the people checking you out when we were out together, and don't insult my intelligence by telling me they were staring because you're in a wheelchair. I know a lustful look when I see one - I am Jim's best friend, after all, and he both gives and receives far more than his fair share of them. Anyway, I'm not going to enumerate all of your fine qualities, because then I would sound like a teenage girl, but you must know what an incredible person you are.

The awkwardness wasn't all you. Hell, I'm feeling awkward too. Not because of the chair - don't ever think that. But I'm dating - if that's the right word - an admiral. And an incredibly celebrated one at that. Yeah, I'm friends with Jim so I'm used to all the groupies swarming whenever we're out somewhere together on earth, but this is different. And on top of all that, it's been a while since I've even contemplated getting serious about someone. I'm sure you know my divorce with Jocelyn was a goddamned nightmare - after all, you saw the shape I was in on the shuttle for new recruits. Anyway, I won't go into details about the marriage and divorce because even I am not that tacky and insensitive. But I haven't felt any desire to pursue anything romantic with anyone since my divorce. Now that's changing, and yeah, it makes me feel a bit at sea.

And even more than that - oh, hell, this is embarrassing. I haven't been with anyone since my divorce. I mean, I haven't had sex since the divorce. Just didn't feel the desire, and I guess I'm an old-fashioned guy, but I prefer for there to be some kind of emotion between me and a sex partner, beyond just "Hey, you're hot, I'm horny, let's hook up," which seems to be Jim's mantra. And I guess yours too, from what you said in your email. Not that I'm judging. It's just... not me. So suddenly feeling a strong physical attraction to someone, which I do, by the way, is also kind of strange for me.

Looking back at this, I'm making it sound like I've already picked out matching wedding rings and a goddamn china pattern. I'm tempted to delete it all, but I'll leave it, because if I rewrote it it wouldn't come out any better. But believe me when I say I'm not trying to force you into any sort of long-term commitment.

All right, changing the subject now before I come across like even more of an idiot. I had a great time at Vanelli's too. And the walk afterwards was really nice, even if those sea lions did stink to high heaven. But most of all, it was good to breathe fresh air, walk on real Terran soil, and spend time with someone because I genuinely wanted to be there with them, not because I'm stuck in a flying tin can with them for months on end. And that goodnight kiss - well, you were there too so I won't go into detail, but damn, it was amazing. And now I'm completely embarrassed so I'm going to move on.

It was really interesting to sit in on the guest lecture you did for Newsom's tactics class. When Jim goes on and on about strategy, it goes so far over my head that I find myself tuning out, and when I took tactics at the Academy it was one of the most boring things I've ever had to do, and so basic that a five-year-old could have aced it. But the way you talked about it was really impressive - interesting and challenging enough to keep everyone's attention (and yes, I checked), but not so advanced that us non-command folks couldn't follow it. You must know that at least half of the cadets have a major case of hero-worship going on. And more than a few have a serious crush as well. In fact, I overheard two of them discussing... how did they put it? Your "dreamy cerulean eyes." And other parts of your anatomy that I'm not going to repeat here because I am, in fact, a gentleman.

Well, I think I've made enough of a fool of myself for now, so I'll sign off. I hope you took something for that headache and got plenty of rest. You've got to take care of yourself - god knows you captain types are liable to sacrifice your physical health for no good reason. I've told Jim this and I'll tell you: it doesn't make you more of a man to refuse necessary medical treatment. It makes you a moron.

And on that note, good night. I hope you're doing well.

Take care,
Len

p.s. I ripped Jim up one side and down the other when I found out he'd hacked our emails. So he knows better than to do that again if he wants to keep all his limbs. The admiral decryption can't hurt, though.



To: Leonard H. McCoy (lmccoy@starfleet.gov)
From: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)

Dear Len,

In all the time I have known you, I always wondered what on earth you and Jim Kirk could possibly have in common, that you became such good friends. I'd see you two around campus when I was there. Even observed the two of you at a bar one night. I never got it until now, getting to know you better through our letters. And while I realized recently that you have a certain ability to reign Jim in -- well, as much as that is possible -- what you really have is his complete and unconditional trust. Obviously because of your no-holds-barred honesty. You were the one person who didn't care who the hell his father was, and flat out wasn't afraid to tell him when he was fucking up. And most importantly to Jim, I'm sure, is you've never left him behind, like everyone else in his life did. You two could not be more opposite, but where it matters you are both the same. Honest, trustworthy, and would do anything for someone you care about, despite your completely opposite personalities. I get it now. And I've got to tell you, I feel damned lucky right now, to know you both, and to be getting to know you better.

Let me back up here. First of all, I am feeling better. And while I don't think I am quite as stubborn as Jim is about medical attention, at his age I probably was. So there is hope that someday, twenty years down the road, he will come to you when he's not feeling well or has been injured. And don't shake your head at me that you won't be in space with Jim twenty years from now. If that's where he is, that's where you'll be and you know it. And no, this isn't my way of out of this 'dating' thing we appear to be doing. Or, as I believe you call it in the South...courting. And I have to say, I am not at all opposed to that and have the blush on my face right now to prove it.

That night during your visit, when you assisted at Starfleet Medical with the brain stem grafting, Jim came and took me to dinner. It was a chance for us to catch up. And we had a great time. I have become very fond of him, as you know, and I couldn't be prouder if he were my own son. I expect nothing less than for him, and you, to take the universe by storm and do great things for the Federation. What surprised me at dinner was how utterly protective he is of you. I probably would have laughed, if he wasn't being so serious. I'm not kidding, Len. I pretty much got the 'You hurt my friend and I will break you' speech from him -- not in those exact words, but it might as well have been. I don't think he was amused by my asking if I needed his permission to 'date' you. Needless to say, he apologized for nosing in before, and promised he wouldn't do so unless I gave him reason to. In other words, he's going to kick my proverbial ass whether it's in this chair or not if I don't treat you right.

So I guess it's time to put my cards on the table here. I am very attracted to you whether I can physically do much about it right now it or not. You are a beautiful man, Leonard McCoy. I don't know if anyone has ever told you that, but it's true. And yes, if I wasn't in this chair, I would have done more than kiss you that first night. I'm not sure what exactly you want me to say about my past. To me it seems like what you said about your divorce... insensitive. We both have pasts. And yes, I am more like Jim Kirk, but I have changed as I've gotten older. That's why I tried marriage ten years ago. It didn't work out, but I will tell you this, I never cheated. I may not be as old-fashioned as you are, but I have always taken the relationships I've had in my life very seriously. The best ones, unfortunately, have been with a starship or two. I have a feeling, if I may be so bold, that you are going to change that.

There are nights I lie in my bed and try to talk myself out of this. I wonder if the twenty-year difference in age is too much. Whether I really want to spend my life waiting for whatever shore leave or strategically planned rendevous our ships can have somewhere together. And yes, during the week you were here, you did make me believe that I will not only walk again, but get command back of whatever ship I am worthy of. And stop your huffing because like I said above, you aren't going anywhere Jim Kirk isn't, and I am telling you, I don't have a problem with that. I figure I can have just my ship and whatever nameless, faceless man or woman I choose for the evening, and still feel completely alone. Or not be alone anymore, and have whatever time together we can get. I'm going to choose the latter, like any man in his right mind would.

Now who's picking out china patterns?

I'm sorry I let it get awkward after our last night together. I was frustrated that I couldn't take what we did on the couch further. I should have come to see you off the next morning, but I guess I was - well, you can probably guess what I was feeling. I won't apologize more since you keep telling me not to. I'll just have to promise to make it up to you next time I see you. Maybe I'll have to take a little trip next time you're going to be somewhere for a decent length of time. I'm told these Admiral stripes are good for things like that.

Yours, and I mean that,
Chris




From: Leonard H. McCoy (lmccoy@starfleet.gov)
To: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)

Dear Chris,

Good lord, you're going to give me an ego to match Jim's if you keep this up! Speaking of that particular devil, yeah, you're definitely not the only one to wonder how on earth our friendship works. Then there are the regular rumors that we're more than friends. "People always have their minds in the gutter," my grandmother used to say. The truth is, I can't really explain what makes it work. We just clicked somehow, that very first day we met, and we've been pretty much glued together ever since. I've never had a friend like him - and, all things considered, that's probably a good thing. And I'm pretty sure he's never had someone who's stuck by him like I have, for better or worse (he'd probably tell you it's mostly been for worse). So I guess it's not too surprising that he gave you "the speech" when he took you to dinner. I'm not sure whether to be flattered by his concern or offended that he thinks I can't look out for myself. I guess, as usual, I'll settle on some combination of both.

I do know you see Jim like a son in some ways, and you've got to know that you're the closest to a father figure that he's ever had. I don't know how much you know about his childhood, but growing up, his stepfather... well, it's not my story to tell. But Chris, it'd kill me if I thought that that would be taken away from Jim, if you and I don't work out. He needs you in his life, and I won't be the thing that drives you two apart. So you've got to promise me that no matter what happens with us, you won't let him push you away. And I'll do my damndest to make sure that he doesn't do anything irrevocably stupid either, all right?

Damn, now I'm depressing myself. It's just... well, you've heard the expression "Prepare for the worst, hope for the best"? Well, my motto is the first half of that. I rarely hope for the best, but I always prepare for the worst.

Speaking of which... I've been giving a lot of thought to what you said, about how if Jim's still on this tin can in 20 years, I'll be right here by his side. And the thing is, I've already wrecked one relationship by prioritizing my work above my partner. I don't want to make that mistake again. But Jim... well, he needs me. I don't know what'll happen with you and me, so maybe it'll never be an issue, but Chris, if it does become serious, well... you might be satisfied with whatever time we can grab together, but I won't be. I can tell you that much. When I'm in a relationship I'm in it, and a few stolen moments aren't going to cut it. But I couldn't leave Jim like everyone else has. I just don't see a way out of that fix, and it's driving me a little bit crazy. I can't choose between you two, but I can't help feeling like one day, I'm going to have to. But then, I know I'm getting way ahead of myself. I'll try to take a page from Jim's book and worry about the future when it gets here. It's not really how I'm made, but I'll try.

Hell, Chris, that night on the couch was one of the single hottest encounters of my life. Straddling your lap, feeling your hands on my back and, well, lower - running my fingers through your hair and kissing like the world was going to end any damn minute... I haven't been that close to coming in my pants since I got to second base with Jenny Lindstrom when I was 15. When you didn't show up the next morning, I thought I was pushing things too fast, that I had scared you off. I'm at least relieved to learn that's not the case. Look, I don't want to make you do anything you're uncomfortable with, but if it's that you wanted to take things further... well, you wouldn't have gotten any objection from me. Whether or not you can have an orgasm right now, there are still plenty of things we can do that we'd both enjoy. When you take advantage of your admiral stripes to come visit me (a plan I thoroughly approve of, by the way), we can try a few of them out.

I've reviewed your latest neurological scans, and the regeneration looks like it's going well. Right in line with my projections, so at this rate it won't be long before you regain full function in any case. Which actually brings up another question - I'm still listed as one of your treating physicians, and because of that, I have full access to your medical file. I've been keeping on top of your treatment and staying in touch with your current med team because, well, I don't trust that anyone else will be as careful or as thorough as I would. But it's a fine line, ethically, to treat someone that you're involved with. I might gain information as your doctor that I, as your - whatever the hell we are to each other - wouldn't get. So if you want me to remove myself as your doctor I will, and then I won't have access to your confidential medical files. Of course I'd still be available if you ever wanted to ask my advice on something. Anyway, it's up to you, but I at least wanted to give you the choice.

Sorry that this letter was a downer. On a brighter note, Jim got that treaty signed with the Uxtaxians that the brass was all het up about. I'm sure you'll hear that through official channels soon enough, but I wanted to let you know. And while we were down on their planet, I picked up a little something for you. Nothing fancy, just something I thought you'd like. Not gonna tell you what it is - that'll have to wait until you come see me. Call it incentive.

Yours (and it's scary as hell to write that, but it's true),
Len




To: Leonard H. McCoy (lmccoy@starfleet.gov)
From: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)

Dear Len,

Your letter was certainly not a 'downer' regardless of what you think. Of course, if you were writing to tell me you'd changed your mind about pursuing whatever this is, I might have a different answer for that. If I may use a word my grandmother was fond of, I find your letters endearing and they are the highlight of my day. Which again, makes me sound quite pathetic, but I mean it. And seeing your face on the video comm last week from Starbase 33, well, it was good to see and talk to you, even if Jim interrupted us before we got to really talk about things. But that's okay, and I can only speak for myself, but I was a little nervous talking to you. In that tongue-tied, butterflies-in-my-stomach way. Which, considering my age...well, I haven't felt this way in a long time and I decided after careful thought, I could either continue being embarassed about it, or just enjoy it. So I'm trying the latter, but don't be surprised if you make an old man blush next time you do that.

I appreciate your candor regarding the ethics of you continuing to be on my medical team. But no, I do not want you to remove yourself as my treating physician. Even before we started - okay, I'm going to be bold here and call it a relationship. There, I said it. I consider us in a relationship. Or if we've both been acting like teenage girls, does it mean we're going steady? Do they still call it that? Yes, I am a Starfleet Admiral. I think the cadets' hero worship would go out the door if they saw me fumbling through this. Now where was I? Oh yes, I was going to say that even before we started writing and before this relationship, it helped knowing that even though you weren't here anymore, you were still keeping an eye on my care. You're a damn fine doctor, Leonard McCoy. You are one of Starfleet's finest. I wouldn't have a chance in hell of walking again if it wasn't for you. And before you go getting any ideas in your mind that my interest in you is because you saved my life, stop. Give yourself some credit, doctor. Your ego should be as big as Jim's.

Speaking of that little devil, as you fondly call him. I'll admit, that part of your letter left me... well, I admit, made me question pursuing this - but only for a minute. I would never want you to choose between me and Jim. Hopefully you'll never have to. I know that Jim needs you. I know that you need Jim too, whether you are willing to admit that or not. I told you I get it. In some ways I envy both of you. I've known Philip Boyce the entire time I've been in Starfleet, but even after thirty-five years, we aren't as close as you and Jim are. Let me also say that further down the road, if things continue like I hope they will, I wouldn't exactly be okay with being away from you either. I didn't mean to imply that would be enough for me. Maybe it's because I'm older, maybe it's because I've been alone so long - Len, I simply feel like I'd rather have you however I can get you, than not at all. But it won't be forever. With so much out of our hands, and with the dangers we face, the future isn't guaranteed anyway. No, it isn't easy thinking like Jim does, but once you've been in the black long enough, I think you'll understand it more. I've never asked you what your intentions were when you joined Starfleet. I know you were getting away from everything that happened. For all I know you were planning on putting in your time, getting your life back in order, and getting right back out. And then you got caught in the orbit of Jim Kirk. Or more like sucked into the black hole he practically sprung from. I get it. So think about it. I'm not going anywhere, Len, and before you start blustering at me, I don't mean that literally.

As far as using these stripes to come see you, I would do it tomorrow if it was feasible. But you and I both know that with the neuro stem regeneration treatment, it's going to be months before I complete it. And as you would say, DAMMIT. Because while I still can't get an erection, when you mentioned what we did on the couch, and I thought about the feeling of your hands all over me... well, let's just say that if I could have responded physically, you wouldn't have been the only one nearly coming in your pants. And frankly, I wouldn't have minded if you had. I would share more of my thoughts with you, but I'd rather wait and show you. But even if I'm still not able to when we get together next, I plan on making sure you do more than come in your pants. I may not have all the feeling back, and I wasn't really in the mindset when we were together to really let myself enjoy what we did, but it still felt GOOD. I still feel warm all over. Kissing you was... well, that night on the couch was the best kiss I've ever had, even if it didn't make me hard.

Now on to less depressing matters. I am all set to teach an advanced tactics class for the spring semester. I've started writing up a few ideas, and working on a course outline. Newsom has been kind enough to help by showing me his outline for his first year class so I have a clue as to what I should be doing. But I'm telling you, Len. I think I'd rather face a Romulan ship than a class of second or third year whippersnapper cadets. And if any of them should be remotely like Jim, I'm packing it in. Seriously. Would you have survived teaching an anatomy or xenoanatomy class with Jim Kirk in your class? I think not. I think the admirality gave out commendations to the professors who had to teach him. Did you know several of them retired the year after they had him in their classes? I'm sure that doesn't surprise you at all.

I've been having a weekly dinner with the Barnetts recently. They took me to my favorite sushi place this week. That is one thing I miss immensely when I'm in space. Replicated sushi is just not the same. Of course I've always been spoiled being from California, even if my first seventeen years were spent in the desert. Having had fresh fish, well, you just can't settle for anything else. I should also tell you it's my favorite thing to cook. And next time you are dirtside and I'm out of this damn hospital care, I plan on taking you to my apartment and cooking for you. Sound good? And if you don't like sushi, well, I might have to re-consider our relationship. I'm serious. Okay, I'm not. I'm smiling writing this, and I hope you are while reading.

In other Starfleet news, there was a huge several-thousand-strong protest by the group Terra Prime outside headquarters. At least it was peaceful. There were a few arrests, but no violence, thank God. We'd heard rumblings that some of their more radical members were planning bombings around the world, but it didn't come to fruition. Their movement has certainly gotten stronger since the Narada incident, and the chatter Starfleet Intelligence has picked up isn't good either. People are spooked, and I suppose they have a right to be considering Earth was minutes from being destroyed. It comes down to the fact that human nature still hasn't changed that much. We say we've evolved, but the truth is, we might as well be back in the 19th and 20th centuries sometimes with the vitriolic hatred this group has for alien life.

Well, it's late and I have early p.t. Explain to me what reporting at 0600 to be put through two hours of torture is supposed to accomplish? Wait, I don't think I want to hear your answer to that. Forget I mentioned it.

Yours,
Chris




From: Leonard H. McCoy (lmccoy@starfleet.gov)
To: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)

Dear Chris,

A relationship, huh? I guess that's as good a word as any, and it's probably a good sign that neither of us appears to be running screaming for the hills now that that word is on the table. Honestly, I thought it would be a hell of a lot longer than this before I'd be ready for anything serious again, but I guess you never know what life's gonna throw at you. And I'm glad for it, really.

My letters are "endearing"? That makes me feel like a kid, and I'm really, really hoping you don't see me as a kid. That they are the highlight of your day? Well, that's more like it. And yours are the highlight of mine. It's ridiculous, the way my stomach does a flip-flop when I get back to my quarters and see that there's a comm from you. Christine - Nurse Chapel, she's my head nurse - has figured out there's something going on by the way I get all fidgety at the end of a shift. I think she thinks I'm conducting a secret liaison with someone onboard. I swear, this place is worse than high school for gossip. So it's probably for the best that we didn't get to talk too much when you vidcommed, because somehow someone would have found out and word would be around the ship faster than you can blink. Not that I'm ashamed of what we have. I'm just not comfortable being the subject of general conversation. I had my fill of that in Georgia.

I must admit I'm relieved that you don't want me to take myself off your med team. As I said, my general feeling is that if you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself, and I'm gonna ride herd on your treating providers to make sure they're doing it like I would. And when I said the thing about me getting a big ego, I didn't mean about my medical skills. All modesty aside, yeah, I'm a good doctor. I was talking about the ridiculous things you said about me being beautiful. I'm just going to ignore it because clearly you're delusional and it's usually best not to challenge the delusions of crazy people.

As for you and me, and the thing with Jim... well, I don't know what else we can say that hasn't been said already. Right now, I'm just trying not to think about it too much. What we have now is good, and I can be here with Jim and keep an eye on him (and yeah, all right, he can keep an eye on me), and so it's better not to borrow trouble, I guess. Jim being a black hole is a pretty good analogy, actually. I like that. I'm going to have to use that on him sometime. In terms of what my intentions were when I joined Starfleet... I honestly don't think I had any idea. I was running away from something, not running toward something, and all that was on my mind was leaving behind everything in my old life. The fact that I've somehow built a new life, one that's in many ways better than the one I left behind... well, I never saw that coming. Not complaining, though. Well, not much - I wouldn't be me if I didn't complain some, right?

Chris, don't you dare come see me now, and screw up all the hard work I put into putting you back together, and all the hard work the rest of your team has been doing to get you walking again! Damn it, man, I didn't mean to suggest that you should come out tomorrow, as much as I'd love to see you. Your health comes first, and that's a medical order from your doctor. And hell, Chris, I didn't realize you were a cruel man, teasing me by talking about what we did, and what we'll do next time, knowing that it's going to get me all hot and bothered. Two can play at that game, though, so watch out. I fight dirty. In fact, I'm going to arrange for you to get a full-body massage. A really long, deep, thorough full-body massage, from someone good I happen to know. I want you getting reacquainted with your body, reconnecting with how good you can feel, even if it's not going to result in sexual release. As for me, I'll just say that me and my trusty right hand have been getting awfully friendly lately. All right, time to move on.

You're going to be a great teacher. You can handle Jim Kirk, so I'm sure you can handle any student you might happen to get. Although let's hope there aren't too many more Jim Kirks waiting in the wings. I'm not sure the universe can take too many of him. And yeah, I knew the thing about teachers retiring after getting Jim. He considered it a badge of honor, kept a tally of how many he'd caused to pack it in. Idiot.

Sushi's your favorite? I'll have to remember that. I like some sushi, although not the more exotic types. Maguro, unagi, hamachi, and good old-fashioned California rolls are my favorites. Sake's good too - I mean salmon, not the drink, although I wouldn't turn down the drink either. I'm not too excited about anything with tentacles. And yeah, fresh fish is one of my favorite meals too. So I'll look forward to having you cook for me, next time we're both planetside. Maybe I'll make my mama's famous peach cobbler, if you're really lucky.

I did hear about the protest - it's been on the news feeds here. I don't know if you knew this, but my parents were both members of Terra Prime. And their parents were, before them. And, well, on back as far as anyone has kept track of these things. I haven't joined - I'm not one for politics really, but Chris, I can kind of see their point of view. I don't mean that the bombings are okay, or any type of violence. But since Nero, the Federation has been weakened. Humanity has been weakened. I don't know that we can afford to be spreading ourselves too thin and giving aid to every race that needs help. One of the things you learn first as a doctor is how to triage, how to focus your energy on the ones that most need your help, the ones that can be saved, because you can't save everybody. Anyway, I can see both sides, is all I'm saying.

I'm glad you know what I would say about the importance of your p.t., because it saves me a lecture. Just remember, though, the more diligent you are about p.t., the faster you'll regain function, and the sooner we'll be able to have that get-together. Think about that when the alarm goes off at 0500.

As you probably know, we're going to be going on a deep space run for the next month and we'll be out of comm range. I'm going to miss your letters, and I'm going to miss being able to tell you what's going on with me, as well. Jim's as excited as a kid in a candy shop, which is never a good thing. That idiot's going to try to get himself killed in a dozen new and creative ways, I can just tell. Anyway, I'll watch out for him, and try to bring him back in one piece, and you take care of yourself too, all right?

I'll comm you as soon as we're back in range.

Yours,
Len




From: Leonard H. McCoy (lmccoy@starfleet.gov)
To: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)

Dear Chris,

I'm exhausted and I need to get to bed, but I just wanted to send you a quick note to let you know we're back in comm range. And we're all okay. Somewhat worse for wear, but we'll survive.
I've seen some of the official reports that Jim has put together for the mission, and they just... they don't capture what it's like out here. It sounds so dry and boring when it's put down in words, but it's not - it's terror and exhileration and ... well, you know this better than I do. Anyway, I'm just kind of feeling a little overwhelmed by it all.

I've missed you. I hope you've missed me too, and haven't changed your mind about us while I've been out of touch. God, I sound paranoid. I'm gonna shut up now and get some sleep. I'll write more later.

Yours,
Len




From: Leonard H. McCoy (lmccoy@starfleet.gov)
To: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)

Dear Chris,

It's been a few days and I haven't heard from you. Is everything all right? I don't see anything in your medical file to indicate that something's happened.

Write to me, okay? I'm getting even more paranoid, here.

Len




From: Leonard H. McCoy (lmccoy@starfleet.gov)
To: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)

Chris,

It's been a week and still no word. What's going on?

Len




From: Leonard H. McCoy (lmccoy@starfleet.gov)
To: Christopher Pike (cpike@starfleet.gov)

Chris,

If you wanted to stop whatever we're doing, if you've lost interest, you could at least tell me so.

Damn it, I feel like a teenager who's been stood up for prom and I don't like it. Either write back to me, or I'm just going to assume we're done.

Len





Until next time, thanks for reading!

ETA: Now with sequel action!
 
 
How do I feel?: busybusy
 
 
 
secretsolitairesecretsolitaire on March 9th, 2010 11:43 pm (UTC)
I love cherry blossom time too (although my true favorite flowering tree is magnolias -- I love them so MUCH). We are still a few weeks away, but I thought I'd get prepared with an appropriate icon. :-P