In which Klingons learn not to mess with coffee deprived humans.
Rating: PG-13 because Jim Kirk has a foul mouth.
Disclaimer: Still not mine, never mine.
Author's note: Cliché and stupid, but had to be written.
The Enterprise shook violently. The sound of the explosion reverberated through the ship. Jim was practically thrown out of bed. An attack, his brain supplied. They were under attack.
Immediately, Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise woke fully and started making plans and deductions, while the Jim part busied itself by scrambling for the clothes he'd left laying everywhere on the floor. Usually he was tidier, but some
Message Enabled In Transmission From The TARDIS by Freerunnercho, literature
Literature
Message Enabled In Transmission From The TARDIS
Hello? Hello, yes. This thing working? Alright then, good, good. Okay. So.
I need you to pay very close attention. Yes, you. Reading this right now on your laptop or your tablet or your multi-dimensional interface pad. Have those come out yet? Right, sorry. Yes. Very, very close attention. Because something big is happening. Right now. And you're a part of it.
Maybe not directly, don't worry. I'm not asking you to save the world or anything. Not really. Well Um, not yet at any rate. Moving on then.
To the point.
You're important. You may not believe it yet, but you are. You're meant to be something great and wond
When I first looked back at the events we had been so recently subjected to- the Pon Farr and the duel in which Spock had fought me (as so lost was he in his blood fever) with all intents to kill- I had recalled fear, and fear had not been kind.
The memories had risen to me a few times after we had left Vulcan, involuntarily breaking into the abode of my conscious thought when they did. They materialized in the form of momentary flashbacks, never lasting too long but long enough to always send an abrupt chill crawling across my spine as if someone, without warning, poured a glass of ice water on me only for the sake of my due reaction- and m
Kirk stroked one flushed, green ear. Spock swallowed against the unnerving pulse of his head that was so strangely in contrast to the downward, falling motion the rest pf his body was experiencing. It was like being sucked down into whatever he was lying on, like gravity was making him melt away from the touch, away from darkness itself
Ow. The light. On seeing the visible part of his face screw up, whomever had turned it on proceeded to reverse the simple act.
Bliss darkness again.
"Hey." Jim. That was Jim So it was Jim. Jim If there was anybody out there to thank, Spock thanked them. He could not, would not, allow anyon
McCoy Knows Best - KxS by youliedanyway, literature
Literature
McCoy Knows Best - KxS
"Bones, I need your help," Jim Kirk said, slinking into sickbay like he was a guilty criminal hiding from the police.
"With what?" McCoy asked, he was sitting at his desk, reviewing some charts. He looked up to see Jim helping himself to a rather full glass of Saurian brandy. "Jim it's not even noon."
"Trust me, I need this drink," Jim said, falling into the chair on the other side of McCoy's desk and knocking back the brandy.
"What happened?" McCoy asked, setting the charts down and staring at Jim with concern.
"Spock said he loved me," Jim said, barely whispering.
"Why is that a problem?" McCoy asked, concern replaced with confus
Sometimes, Jim didn't feel like going to class. So he didn't. In fact, most of the time he didn't ,feel like it, and yet he went because Bones was still in their tiny dorm and threatened hypos out the wazoo if he didn't get his lazy ass out of bed and into that uniform in under ten seconds, Jimbo. So he'd go, and regret it because really, everything they just told him was right in the book, which he'd read, and left him feeling more exhausted then getting up did.
Unless it was Xenosociology.
Jim always went to Xenosociology.
"Mr. Kirk."
There was no reply, and though ninety percent of the class perceived Jim as asleep on his desk, Jim was
It had been a slow week for the Enterprise and Spock had found himself in an illogical predicament.
He was bored.
He had finished his duties, meditated for at least two hours and gone over his paperwork more times than he wanted to remember. The Vulcan leaned back in his chair and tried to think of something he needed to do and almost frowned when he realised there were no tasks he needed to finish. Finally, he decided to visit Jim.
Though their friendship had been rocky since the incident two days ago, (and of course, yesterday) he was 95.7% certain it could be resolved -and hopefully forgotten- over a game of chess. With that thought in
2. Dinner + Dancing Tomatoes by IhazaCookie, literature
Literature
2. Dinner + Dancing Tomatoes
Things between Spock and Jim were awkward at best.
Since the "Shower Incident" (as a voice in the back of his brain that sounded ridiculously like Chekov- had so affectionately called it), Jim couldn't even LOOK at Spock without feeling embarrassed.
And to top it all off, rumours were flying around. Embarrassing rumours. Jim thought his face was going to be permanently red by the end of the five year mission they were on.
He was in the mess hall with Scotty and Bones when he first heard it.
"Did you see what happened on the bridge yesterday?"
There were a group of women all huddled around their table like a bunch of school girls. G