He can't help a brief snort of laughter at the mention of McCoy; Bones is in a class of his own when it comes to reacting to the ridiculous. And as far as Jim's concerned, his XO and his communications officer 'breaking up' is pretty high on the list of the ridiculous. They've been together too long, Uhura is too stubborn, and Vulcans bond for life. Maybe it seems partially south of characteristic for James Kirk to be so serenely confident about the longevity of someone else's monogamous romance, but the truth is that his own lack of fidelity is is engineered by quite a number of factors. A part of him worries he'll love like his mother does.
"Two things," he begins. "One: in his defense, which I submit free of emotion, it did enable us to actually come get you. Following that-- god, the room when he explained."
"You don't have to defend him," she says, gesturing with her glass. Which might be - quite reasonably - news, since she dragged him out to a club to get wasted with her, with that particular look in her eye that has always meant Spock Did Something. Unplanned, just rolling up in something silver and sparkling that would not ever be seen on the bridge, are you coming or what?
(This is what friendship looks like. 'Covered in glitter and sort of scary'.)
"I wasn't mad. And we're." In a fight again already. "...I'm not mad about that, and I've been picturing it - McCoy toeing the bro code for him. Did you ever think we'd see the day?"
News, yes, but not the shocking kind. Nyota's pardon of her partner's behavior inspires a small, but still vaguely smug, smile. Of course he doesn't need to defend Spock, because this whole 'fight' thing isn't going to be permanent, just like he knew from the get-go. Not worried for a second.
Not seriously worried, anyway. Not enough to ask for a more sedate venue of discussion like in times past, old Terran films and cartons of ice cream and vodka. Jim read the air and decided this was acceptable, though he's opted for leather and denim instead of sparkle. For now.
Jim's laughing when he says, "No, I really didn't. It was perfect, though, because Pavel and Scotty couldn't figure out how they should react in this frozen moment of terminal awkwardness and Bones was just-- you know. Gentlest bedside manner this side of the Neutral Zone. I swear to you, Spock blushed. Barely. I still saw it, slightly green."
"They were scared! Chekov ran away. You guys did see the part where it did exactly what it was supposed to do and we made it out of there, right? I didn't miss that part."
Not - all of them. Not everybody made it out, but; more than might have done. Enough to be so, so grateful for. She hadn't doubted - not for an instant - that they were coming, but that unshakeable faith isn't beyond being a little bit extra bolstered by how and why Spock played his part.
Now if he could stop fucking backseat driving, maybe they wouldn't have a problem -
"That was such a great part," and the moony sort of sigh that happens is probably to do with, more than anything else, the number of empty glasses littering their table.
"Probably because Bones acted like it was the most offensive thing he'd seen in his life," Jim laughs. Everything is the most offensive thing he's seen in his life, though, when it comes to Leonard McCoy. There is no such thing as a middle of the road reaction. Jim loves it-- sometimes he's exasperated and sometimes he wants to shove a sock in his friend's mouth, but mostly it's just hilarious and endearing. He knows Bones is fine if he's complaining.
Not all of them. The duty roster is the worst part of his rank; it has been now, it was after the Section 31 incident. Hundreds of posts to fill. He raises a hand to the blue-skinned waitress. Another round.
"The most offensive thing in McCoy's life is you, Jim," she informs him, sunny as anything in a way that is probably as much because he's just ordered another round as it is because of his exceptionally good company. He is her first choice, these days, not that she'd ever tell him so; not that she'd ever need to tell him so.
There's a lot that they get, and there's something to be said for the conversations you can have when you don't have to have half of them.
When the next round comes, she clinks her glass against his; "It's a really beautiful tracking device, too."
"Wow." WOUNDED. Jim leans back and gives her a pained look that would seem more in-line with the way he behaved way back when they first met-- in a much shittier bar than this. He's grown up unbelievably since then, and his experiences since Admiral Pike's death have sobered him, but sometimes that Jim sneaks in.
Mostly when drinking.
Cheers. "It is," he agrees, about the necklace. "So what's the occasion, then, since we're cool with your radioactive jewelry?"
The face she pulls is not immediately enlightening, but by this stage, probably familiar. The subtle nuances of the spats between mommy and daddy over there are nothing new to Jim, after all; this seems more 'he hogs the blankets' and less 'he talked shit about my species again'. Only reinforced by the time it takes her to answer, the way she's grimacing about it as if it's embarrassing and not as if she's so hurt she's lost for words.
(She has a lot of words.)
"I hate driving him," she says, explosively sudden, both hands (and one glass) in the air. "Okay? I never drive him, he cannot shut up, he has to have an opinion about literally every - and then he starts sulking like a child because I can't concentrate while he's doing that and I might have called him a sulkan and he might have not appreciated the eight times I repeated it after he said that's not even a thing."
Jim starts laughing. It's not explosive - at first - it's incredulous and kind of amazed because he can see this, he's almost experienced it, but Jim's not as delicate with his first officer's cultural feelings and just goes Spock shut up and Spock usually shuts up. BUT SHE KEEPS TALKING, and. He loses it. Head thrown back full-on cackling laugh and he thinks he might have tears in his eyes.
"Oh my god-- that's-- that is so much better than Vulcan't. I can't breathe I'm gonna die--"
In fact, no one dies; 'another round' becomes 'several more rounds' becomes competitive impressions of the subtle differences between a sulkan and a Vulcan't, and Nyota's version of Spock telling her to stop saying it, and then another round, and then the incredibly good idea that's what leads to her boosting herself up onto the edge of the table they've been leaning on so as to get a better angle to climb his shoulders.
(Trying it while he was kneeling went well until he tried to stand up.)
"If I tuck my feet behind your back," she reasons, "it'll look like we just have four arms."
Well there are a lot of things, but the best one at the moment is that the bartenders at this club have family in the 'Fleet, and are perfectly content to let Captain Kirk and Lieutenant Uhura of the USS-Saved-Yorktown-And-Probably-The-Whole-Federation do whatever the fuck they want. It's definitely not the best use of their reputation, but to be fair, they're too drunk to realize that's what they're doing.
Still, though: things that are not safe for humans should not be served to humans, no matter how many planets they've saved.
'Sorry, the bajillion-proof sunlight flavored liqueur is only safe to ingest if you're not human' is the most tragic thing in the world right now and maybe if they aren't human they'll give it to them ?? right ?? This is a great plan and it'll work. This booze is glowing like light in a bottle, they can't just give up. That's not the Enterprise way.
"Your legs could also be arms," Jim reflects, steadying her on his shoulders - honestly very impressive, given how fucking hammered he is. Five years ago he'd be saying something about his head being between her legs but, you know, he made that joke when they fell through a 1920s elevator shaft in an ion-haunted starship-museum on the edge of Bajoran space and she landed on him. Old news. "Weird feet hands."
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"Two things," he begins. "One: in his defense, which I submit free of emotion, it did enable us to actually come get you. Following that-- god, the room when he explained."
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(This is what friendship looks like. 'Covered in glitter and sort of scary'.)
"I wasn't mad. And we're." In a fight again already. "...I'm not mad about that, and I've been picturing it - McCoy toeing the bro code for him. Did you ever think we'd see the day?"
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Not seriously worried, anyway. Not enough to ask for a more sedate venue of discussion like in times past, old Terran films and cartons of ice cream and vodka. Jim read the air and decided this was acceptable, though he's opted for leather and denim instead of sparkle. For now.
Jim's laughing when he says, "No, I really didn't. It was perfect, though, because Pavel and Scotty couldn't figure out how they should react in this frozen moment of terminal awkwardness and Bones was just-- you know. Gentlest bedside manner this side of the Neutral Zone. I swear to you, Spock blushed. Barely. I still saw it, slightly green."
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Not - all of them. Not everybody made it out, but; more than might have done. Enough to be so, so grateful for. She hadn't doubted - not for an instant - that they were coming, but that unshakeable faith isn't beyond being a little bit extra bolstered by how and why Spock played his part.
Now if he could stop fucking backseat driving, maybe they wouldn't have a problem -
"That was such a great part," and the moony sort of sigh that happens is probably to do with, more than anything else, the number of empty glasses littering their table.
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Not all of them. The duty roster is the worst part of his rank; it has been now, it was after the Section 31 incident. Hundreds of posts to fill. He raises a hand to the blue-skinned waitress. Another round.
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There's a lot that they get, and there's something to be said for the conversations you can have when you don't have to have half of them.
When the next round comes, she clinks her glass against his; "It's a really beautiful tracking device, too."
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Mostly when drinking.
Cheers. "It is," he agrees, about the necklace. "So what's the occasion, then, since we're cool with your radioactive jewelry?"
no subject
(She has a lot of words.)
"I hate driving him," she says, explosively sudden, both hands (and one glass) in the air. "Okay? I never drive him, he cannot shut up, he has to have an opinion about literally every - and then he starts sulking like a child because I can't concentrate while he's doing that and I might have called him a sulkan and he might have not appreciated the eight times I repeated it after he said that's not even a thing."
no subject
Ooooohh.
Jim starts laughing. It's not explosive - at first - it's incredulous and kind of amazed because he can see this, he's almost experienced it, but Jim's not as delicate with his first officer's cultural feelings and just goes Spock shut up and Spock usually shuts up. BUT SHE KEEPS TALKING, and. He loses it. Head thrown back full-on cackling laugh and he thinks he might have tears in his eyes.
"Oh my god-- that's-- that is so much better than Vulcan't. I can't breathe I'm gonna die--"
no subject
(Miraculously.)
In fact, no one dies; 'another round' becomes 'several more rounds' becomes competitive impressions of the subtle differences between a sulkan and a Vulcan't, and Nyota's version of Spock telling her to stop saying it, and then another round, and then the incredibly good idea that's what leads to her boosting herself up onto the edge of the table they've been leaning on so as to get a better angle to climb his shoulders.
(Trying it while he was kneeling went well until he tried to stand up.)
"If I tuck my feet behind your back," she reasons, "it'll look like we just have four arms."
That's not what it looks like. For the record.
no subject
Well there are a lot of things, but the best one at the moment is that the bartenders at this club have family in the 'Fleet, and are perfectly content to let Captain Kirk and Lieutenant Uhura of the USS-Saved-Yorktown-And-Probably-The-Whole-Federation do whatever the fuck they want. It's definitely not the best use of their reputation, but to be fair, they're too drunk to realize that's what they're doing.
Still, though: things that are not safe for humans should not be served to humans, no matter how many planets they've saved.
'Sorry, the bajillion-proof sunlight flavored liqueur is only safe to ingest if you're not human' is the most tragic thing in the world right now and maybe if they aren't human they'll give it to them ?? right ?? This is a great plan and it'll work. This booze is glowing like light in a bottle, they can't just give up. That's not the Enterprise way.
"Your legs could also be arms," Jim reflects, steadying her on his shoulders - honestly very impressive, given how fucking hammered he is. Five years ago he'd be saying something about his head being between her legs but, you know, he made that joke when they fell through a 1920s elevator shaft in an ion-haunted starship-museum on the edge of Bajoran space and she landed on him. Old news. "Weird feet hands."