captain_jtkirk | .015

[a pause as he rubs his temples.] You are an idiot, have I told you that lately?

[a long suffering sigh.] Where are you?

Right now?

Next to my bed. On the ground.

You didn't answer any of my questions.

[you can hear the eyebrow raise[ That's because the extent of your stupidity leaves me speechless.

I'm coming, don't move. As amusing as it would be to watch you drag yourself to my cabin I'll be the one cleaning up in the end, as always.

Try not to sound so bitter, okay? It's really harmful to the healing process.

Why am I stupid again?

I'll try for lightly irate then doctor.

You really need the list? The top is that you can't seem to keep yourself in good health to save your life. Now stop bitching, I'm on my way- and I have your shirt, yes you can hide out with me, and we'll see if modern medicine can do anything for that thick head of yours.

[Jim harrumphs and drops his head against the floor with a loud and painful sounding thunk. And then he changes the subject entirely.]

You wouldn't happen to have any of my cookies left, would you?

[Bones just rolled his eyes when he heard that reply, moving down the halls and ignoring the remark. When he made it to Jim's room he didn't bother knocking, just tested the door and came right in, concerned a moment until he saw his captain lying on the floor.]

Not even trying to give the lynch mobs a challenge? Interesting strategy. [He says dryly as he walks over and kneels down, tricorder out.]

[Kirk waves his hand vaguely before bringing it down to cover his eyes. He's pretty sure he hasn't been this hungover since he was nineteen and there was a rodeo in town and he spent the whole weekend bathed in booze.]

"It's all part of the plan."

[He peeks over at Bones.]

"No cookies? I'm starving."

[Bones just snorts.] Yeah Jim, you're lulling them into a false sense of security.

[He eaves the tricorder over for a moment before stuffing it back in his pocket. He grabs Jim's arm, trying to help him up.] Come on, you can bitch about your damned cookies when you're not lying on the floor of your own room like a drunk college kid.

[Jim whines his protest but moves to climb to his feet anyway, wincing when the world lurches suddenly and his head throbs. Next time... he was only consuming half of his body weight in alcohol.]

"S'all your fault, you know. You should know by now to keep a better eye on me."

Yeah, apparently I was doing a bad job of keeping an eye on any oncoming disaster lately. [He grumbles but pulls Jim's arm over his own shoulders to help the younger man steady himself before heading slowly to the door.]

'the hell are you drinking this much for anyway Jim? [He asks as he looks up and down the hallway to make sure no unfriendly face is lurking nearby. It was sad that was even needed in his opinion, they made it to the damned port and it wasn't Jim's fault a god forsaken volcano erupted right under their noses.]

"To celebrate!"

[His own loud tone hurts his head and he winces again, leaning more heavily against McCoy before continuing in a softer voice.]

"Cause if I'm gonna get lynched, then I gotta live you know."

[That's really all the reason he needs in his head. He wanted to have fun... and so he had fun.]

"I've had worse. This is nothing."

[McCoy just walks as Jim speaks, careful to keep them both upright even as Kirk's words makes him snort.]

That's a weak excuse even for you. As your more rational and intelligent friend let me tell you what you do when you have possible lynch mobs on your hands. The standard action when people are trying to kill you is to think of a way not to get killed, not drink yourself to the point where you're a damned sitting duck.

[He turns another corner mid rant.] Of course that involves having a sense of self preservation, which I'm not entirely sure you have. I'm sure there's some sort of genetic test for it I'll stumble across.

"Notice how not dead I am right now."

[Which might be something of an overstatement because he kind of feels like the walking dead. But he isn't a zombie, as far as he can deal. So that's something.]

"It's a Kirk thing. Gotta leap without looking and fuck all the consequences, you know. It's why Pike gave me that stupid dare."

Now being the keyword there.

[There's another turn and the lift before they're on the right floor.]

I don't think that philosophy applies to drinking. [He opens the door to his cabin, waiting until they stumble in before he continues.] You know they're talking about what to do with you three. I can tell you now the majority is against Chekov and I. [He leads Jim to the bed and sits him down before turning to find his medkit.]

[Jim groans as he sits down on the bed, actually sitting for about ten seconds before he flops back on on the bed.]

"They didn't kick me out of Starfleet for cheating on the Kobayashi Maru. What are these Wardens going to do to me? Make me spend a few days in Level 0? Gee, prison. That's not something I've done before."

They're 'discussing' your punishment. [Bones snorts as he rifles through the kit.] Meaning the mob is gathering and simmering over a god damned load of crock. The whole lot of them don't understand a thing about authority and how it's used and needed on a ship. This vigilante, 'democratic' justice is asking for trouble- on a prison ship at that.

It doesn't help that the two people on your side are your crew so they won't listen to a thing we say. [He returns with two pills in hand, standing over Kirk with a raised brow.] Sit up and take these if you think you can stomach them.

"Hear, hear."

[Kirk sighs and forces himself to sit up, accepting the pills and water without complaint because pills he can deal with. Sneak attack hypos to he neck are another story altogether.]

"Do you really not have anything to eat? I'd kill for a burrito right about now."

I'm not dealing with that burrito you'd kill for ends up all over my floor. [He rolls his eyes but walks to the other side of the room, returning with what was left of Kirk's celebratory cookies, not much and a little stale by now but that wasn't his problem.]

[He practically tosses the plate before Kirk, turning to his desk and the glass of bourbon he was nursing before James T. Kirk came calling.] Here's to you getting out of this without testing that revival trick this place has. [He says, raising the half empty glass in mock toast.]

"Thanks, Bones. For toasting to me while I nurse the worst hangover of my life."

[He throws in a dirty look to go with the snide tone he used before turning his attention to the cookies. They are stale and not nearly as good as he would've expected celebratory cookies to be.]

"Relax. Half of them can hardly even handle their Inmates on a daily basis and the other half is too busy ripping out each other's throats. I'm going to get a slap to the wrist and that's it."

[He has no way of knowing that for sure. He's just... cocky.]

Well thanks right back for interrupting my night cap. [He rolls his eyes, taking a seat at the desk and turning to face Kirk.]

I'm on your side but damnit Jim, you're not completely innocent here. You of all people shouldn't take mutiny so lightly. It creates unrest within the crew, even a mismatched, undisciplined group like this. You can't pull something like this again.

"If I do, I sure as hell am not going to tell anybody."

[Jim munches on his cookie, wishing desperately that it was burrito instead but he's pretty sure that he can't convince Bones to go to the kitchen for him right now and he's equally sure that he won't make it on his own either.]

"Just wanted everyone to have a vacation, Bones. After some of the crap that's happened around here, I don't see why that's such a big deal."

You committed mutiny and usurped a figure of power aboard a dangerous ship. It's going to create unrest. [He gives Kirk a pointed look before turning back to his glass.] You'll probably end up in the brig for a week. You can keep largo company, two tomcats boarding together. [He sighs and takes a drink.]

"Great. Maybe he can be my conjugal visit too."

[Kirk finishes off the last of the cookies and moves to stretch out on McCoy's bed. His head is feeling better but the room is still spinning a little and lying down helps with that.]

"You said you had my shirt? Where'd you find it?"

Spare me the nightmares. [He finishes his drink and stands again after a pause, grabbing the shirt from his desk and tossing it at Kirk's head.]

It was lying around after your Roman drunken escapades. Only you would end up buying a man that hated you. [He glances down at Kirk with a raised brow.]

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