Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

Title: A Field Theory of James T. Kirk, or, Five Things Leonard McCoy Learned About Jim, and One Thing Jim Always Knew About Bones
Author: caitri
Rating: PG/R (Language, very very mild sexual content)
Pairings: Kirk/McCoy
Word Count: 4,614
Summary: Pretty much what the title says. Same ‘verse as
Captain’s Log: Fathers and Sons and Topeka.
Disclaimer: I know this may come as a shock, but I am not, amazing as it may seem, Gene Roddenberry, J.J. Abrams, Paramount or Bad Robot. Just so you know.

A Field Theory of James T. Kirk, or, Five Things Leonard McCoy Learned About Jim, and One Thing Jim Always Knew About Bones


Jim Kirk loves Johnny Cash. No, seriously, he loves The Man in Black with a deep, abiding passion. Leonard isn’t sure why this surprises him so much, but it does. Maybe it’s because, to him, Johnny Cash’s music is for a man in pain, and it really is a long time before he can see into Jim enough to know that Jim Kirk is a man who knows pain, knows it in and out, thoroughly—the way no man should have to, and certainly no bright-shining kid like Jim.

Leonard finds out about Jim’s music collection in the first months they are together at the Academy. He knows because he hears the music in the dorms and barracks and all the watering holes off-campus at night—the loud Risan rave mixes and the swingy Terran jazz and the sweet but percussive Betazoid fusion and, really, a town like San Francisco? Is full of music—but he doesn’t hear it from Jim’s room. Not for the longest time. He thinks for a while that maybe Jim just doesn’t do music. Then one night he stumbles into Jim’s room from a late shift at Medical and he is so unbelievably exhausted and Jim’s dorm is closer than his and they’ve both made use of the other’s couches enough to know that they can crash anytime if they need to, and he stumbles in and finds Jim lying in his bunk staring at the ceiling.“Flushed From the Bathroom of Your Heart” is playing, and he feels like he’s interrupted some ritual of some kind. (It’s a week before he realizes what a weird thought that is, too.)

Anyhow, Jim starts up all guilty-like, then puts on what Leonard will come to think of as his game face, all cheerful and innocent. “Hey, Bones, what’s up?” he asks, his eyes open and wide and impossibly blue.

“Rough day,” says Leonard. “That’s all.” He can feel the tiredness pulling at him, the desire to just curl up anywhere and fall unconscious, but something’s pulling at him and he can’t identify it. “Wanna watch a vid?”

“Sure,” says Jim, hesitant and eager all at once, and they put on an old vid on a battered player Jim got cheap from Surplus, and they fall asleep on the couch under a couple of afghans—Leonard has no idea where those came from, but they look old and homey. Leonard won’t be able to remember what they watched later, but it was maybe a romantic comedy or something, because he does remember the two of them laughing over it quietly and Jim visibly relaxing, the set of his mouth changing from forced affability to genuine pleasure in his friend’s company.

Leonard will later put together a pattern for when Jim gets in those rare, dark moods, when he plays Johnny loud at night, and he’ll discover that Jim plays it when he gets comms from his Mom or his brother, or when someone brings up Tarsus IV or the Kelvin Disaster. Any of these things will pull Jim into a downright funk and Leonard quickly learns to arrange group study sessions, poker or tri-dimensional chess games, pub crawls that end in dance clubs instead of seedy dives (and anyone who has seen Leonard McCoy in a dance club knows how irritated he is and how he’s rearranging the order of everything natural just so that Jim Kirk won’t look like a ghost of himself) so that Jim is too distracted to get too lost in his own mind.

The kicker comes one night on the Enterprise when they are in the first year of their mission, when the crew can still be surprised by some of the things their Captain does.

Someone has come up with the brilliant idea that there should be an Amateur Night once a month in Rec Room Two. “Amateur what exactly?” Leonard asks every time, but no one ever answers satisfactorily. But there’s usually some combination of poetry readings, musical performance, and once a fairly decent stand-up act from an ensign in Engineering who made rather rude parallels between the workings of the ship and the sexual prowess of its Chief Engineer. (Who, luckily, was among those who found the act hilarious—and then gave the engineer some ungodly assignment that kept him in the bowels of the ship for the better part of a month.) It’s Jim’s birthday, too, and Leonard has been keeping an eye on him and his moods, and he thought going to this thing would be a good idea, dammit. At any rate, someone manages to get Jim up on the makeshift stage and a guitar in his hands, and everyone is expecting him to do some jokey strums and then leave the rest to the crew.

And Jim starts to play. Slowly at first, with a missed note here and there, like he’s remembering how it goes, and then he begins to play with confidence. And then he begins to sing. Now, no one can do “I Got Stripes” like Johnny, but by God if Jim doesn’t give Cash a run for his money. He hits the low, low notes, and keeps the tempo fast. When Leonard jumps in to provide the back-up accompaniments (“Uh huh!” “Oh boy!”) there are startled hoots and claps from the audience. Jim even makes a couple of cracks about “screwing microphones” because he knows every bit of the unedited At Folsom Prison album, has the thing memorized like other people remember poems.

The crowd is extraordinarily appreciative afterwards. It’s not Cash’s darkest song, but it’s just dark enough that when Jim sings people can tell he knows things about life most of the crew doesn’t know—and hopefully, won’t. No one but Leonard (and maybe Spock) knows Jim Kirk, not really, but now they know that he is a man who knows pain, and that he will do his damnedest every time to keep anyone else from being hurt. And he does.


Jim Kirk can fight like you wouldn’t believe. Most people assume that it’s because of all the bar fights he must’ve been in before Starfleet—and the ones he will very occasionally get into at the seedier watering holes off-campus. Leonard is present for only one such fight. It’s the one that becomes known as “The Finnegan Incident.” Jim had been spoiling to take care of an obnoxious Irishman named Finnegan, and he got his chance one night when the man was hassling some Denobulan cadets. Jim can’t stand to see people picked on, or made to feel less than their worth—and he usually goes out of his way to rectify the situation.

Finnegan and several of his buddies get, uh, emphatically morally rectified that night. The fight is short and brutal: Jim is a tornadic whirl of punching jabs and kicks that leave faces bruised and bloody and ribs audibly cracked. A part of Leonard is appalled by Jim’s violence, but another part of him thinks that it couldn’t be aimed at a better set of individuals. Apparently he wasn’t alone in this estimation as a hearing is called, and Gary Mitchell is one of several people who testify on Jim’s behalf. Finnegan is expelled, and Jim has to attend some therapy sessions, but that’s it.

After the fight, Leonard cleans Jim up a bit—not that he got touched in the fight all that much. His scrapes are superficial, and he applies some hydrogen peroxide as well as good old soap and water. “Where did you learn to fight like a Tasmanian devil?” he asks after a while.

Jim doesn’t meet his gaze. Finally, he says, “You might not believe me if I told you.”

“Pfft. You’ve never lied to me before, Jim. I don’t see why you’d start now.” Leonard sits next to him, looking at him closely. Jim’s expression is taut, unreadable, and finally he gives a bark of unhappy laughter.

“I never told you about where I grew up, did I,” he says, and it’s not a question. Leonard is confused.

“Riverside, Iowa,” he says. “Or so you told me.”

“Yeah. Riverside fucking Iowa. That’s where I spent most of my life, growing up. The rest of it—the rest of it was on Tarsus.”

Leonard’s guts freeze. “Jesus, Jim.” He doesn’t know what else to say beyond that.

Jim keeps talking. His eyes are fixed at some point beyond Leonard, unseeing. “Everything was shot all to hell even before the executions. I was with my Aunt and Uncle, and everyone was getting so thin. And there were things you could still do for money. Sex. Fighting. I was big for my age, so I—did both. When I could. I got food for my Aunt and Uncle and cousins. They didn’t ask. Thank God.”

Leonard is doing math in his head. “Jesus, Jim, you couldn’t have been more than—“

“I was twelve.” Jim does look at him then. “I don’t regret anything I had to do then. I survived. But I learned that—that it’s not enough to just survive, there’s gotta be more to it than that. Or it’s not worth it.” Jim’s gaze on him is intense, and Leonard looks away.

Leonard thinks later that Tarsus is the key to Jim’s obsession with winning. He has to be the best at everything, or at least almost everything. He doesn’t compete with Uhura in Xenolinguistics, but he takes all the introductory courses in Federation languages, plus Klingonese. He takes electives in Engineering, Security, Sciences—somehow testing out of the basic courses and leaping straight into the intermediaries and some of the advanced classes. He signs up for extra sessions in self-defense, hand to hand combat, even learning how to use old-style projectile weopans in case that comes in useful one day. He works out for a couple of hours every day; it’s how he unwinds after hours of being stuck in a chair for lectures, or having to coordinate with others in the training sims. It’s something he can do by himself, where he doesn’t have to put on a smiling face and a charade of constant control.

Leonard likes watching Jim practice martial arts in the gym. One time he comes in early to see Jim throwing a communicator to the ground, then throwing himself down, rolling and picking it up again. He throws it a bit differently each time, aiming for different distances. He realizes that Jim is practicing for missions where he has to throw down his communicator or his phaser, so he knows exactly how far to throw it so he can get it again. And when they’re on missions together, Leonard will see him use this trick more than once, and years later when they are teaching at the Academy, he encourages Jim to make it a required part of his course on defense and diplomacy.

Sometimes they spar together, but mostly he enjoys the visceral pleasure of just watching Jim move. Jim is a graceful man, completely familiar with his body, his center of balance, the muscle movements necessary to jump, kick, punch, whatever. Leonard has heard that fighting can be like dancing, but Jim takes it to some place beyond that, to where movement isn’t art, it’s a reason for being. And Leonard finds that strangely beautiful.


And Jim Kirk is beautiful as a man, but unbelievably fucking gorgeous as a woman. The entire crew discovers this when they run into the Faradi, an extremely patriarchal culture who thought that by putting a Federation Captain in some sort of machine that reconfigures his chromosomes and switches his gender, the ship would surrender because they couldn’t possibly follow a woman. Or something stupid like that. Really, as far as plans go, it’s a really stupid one, because of course Jim is still Jim, he’s just—Jim with a different body, and let’s face it, the Enterprise crew would probably follow Jim if he were in the body of, oh, a Pyrithian bat.

At any rate it takes Scotty and Chekov almost a month to figure out how the Faradi machine works to reverse-engineer it and return the Captain to his normal form. Leonard puts Jim on medical leave for the first few days after his change, ostensibly because he needs the time to cope with the changes to his body, but mostly because the two of them are—distracted—with his condition.

“Bones?” Jim asks him one day in their quarters. Her voice is a throaty contralto now. Leonard is physically exhausted after their multiple exertions, but part of him still stirs in interest at that low voice. “Have you thought of how things could be if I, y’know, stayed like this?”

“Not really,” Leonard says honestly. “I like you just the way you are. Were. You know what I mean. Why do you ask?”

Jim rolls her eyes. “Well, duh, Bones. I’m thinking about the future, y’know? If I stayed like this we could, y’know, have babies the good old-fashioned way and all. And stuff.” Jim is blushing, her face buried in her pillow. Blue eyes are looking up at him shyly, nervously.

Leonard sighs, and draws her to him. “Jim, you damn fool,” he says gruffly, as she cuddles close. “I love you. I love you whether you’re a man or a woman. I have one daughter already, but if we want more kids? We can adopt, we’ll figure something out. But the most important thing to me is that you’re happy.” He kisses the top of her head. “If you stay this way, I’ll love you and we’ll always be together. And if you’re back to your usual obnoxious self, I’ll love you and we’ll always be together. So.”

Jim’s smile is sweet and genuine, relieved. “I love you, Bones,” she says.

“I know, kid.”


Jim Kirk is truly, madly, deeply in love with Leonard McCoy.

Everyone knows that, and they all knew it before he did, too. Dammit.


Jim Kirk knows the future—sort of. He knows the future of an alternate reality where the Kelvin wasn’t attacked, where Jim had two parents, where he and Leonard didn’t know each other until well after the Academy, where he and Spock have this fantastical bond that survives death and rebirth, where Vulcan still hangs in the stars and six billion souls live and breathe. He knows it and struggles to not let it color his perceptions of everything around him.

According to Jim, the first weeks after his mind meld with the elder Spock, now called Ambassador Selek, it felt like the visions of what would be were superimposed over what was. Like seeing double, especially when he was tired—and Jim had worked himself to exhaustion all throughout the long journey home after the Narada. “Sometimes I start to say things, Bones” he says one night when they’re getting ready to go to bed. “You know, reference things that haven’t happened, jokes that won’t make any sense. It scares me sometimes.”

“Have you talked to Selek about it?” Leonard asks. He won’t ever admit this to anyone, and certainly not Jim, but he is jealous of the Vulcan sometimes. Jim is his, dammit, and Selek needs to stay the hell out of Jim’s head, emotional transference or no goddamn emotional transference. He shrugs into his non-regulation pajamas to hide his confusion. Joanna sent them for his last birthday; they are black cotton with a little Georgia Bulldog on the chest pocket of the shirt.

“I’ve commed him a few times,” Jim admits from the bathroom. He’s brushing his teeth between sentences. “Between the Rok-tor colony and Starfleet, he’s busy. Damned busy. I think he—I think he’s making extra preparations for something, somehow. He says that at least Federation technology is higher and more militarized than in the other universe. Thanks to Nero.” Jim’s mouth twists at that, and he spits into the sink. “I know he meets with higher-ups a lot. I think he tells them things, things he think will make up for the billions he couldn’t save on Romulus and on Vulcan.”

“Romulus is still here, though,” says Leonard. “But yeah, I—I guess I get that.” And he does.

“A hundred and twenty some years from now, though, a star will still go nova. He has to get the Romulan Empire to evacuate their home world before then. And somehow walk carefully with the Klingons, who are not feeling too friendly towards the Romulans right now what with losing their whole armada and all.” Jim climbs into bed, staring at the ceiling like it might give him some answers, somehow.

“And he thinks he’s going to solve all that? Really?” Leonard isn’t sure whether he thinks that Selek is an uncommonly arrogant man, or if it’s just that expectation of remaking the world is something that Jim always manages to surround himself with. He’s an old country doctor—how the hell is he gonna compete with that?

“I think he hopes to, and—and I think he’s afraid he’ll die before he does.” Jim is very quiet.

“Lights, thirty percent,” commands Leonard. “How old is he? Vulcans age much slower than Humans do, Jim.”

“He’s half-Vulcan, remember. And he’s old enough for it to be a reasonable fear.” Jim’s voice is shaky in the dark.

“You care about him.” Leonard sighs; it’s not even a question.

“He loves me, Bones. He’s the only one person to ever do that besides you,” Jim admits.

“Idiot. C’mere.” Leonard pulls Jim to him, his heart aching for his wounded lover. “That’s not true. Selek’s a smart man; I’m sure he knows what he’s doing, and he won’t be doing it alone. He’ll have the best and brightest the Federation has to offer, like some bright-eyed young Captain I happen to know.” Jim snorts at that. “And besides, if we have universes to save and all, we need our strength. Time to go to sleep.” He twists them together so that they are spooning. The difference in their heights is just enough for Leonard to tuck his mouth right next to Jim’s ear. “I love you, Jim,” he says.

Jim’s body relaxes at that. Universes will be saved—tomorrow. Adventures and jokes, worlds made and wrought. “You too,” he says with a soft sigh. He’s asleep immediately, but Leonard lies there awake for a few hours more. Thinking.

+1 And the one thing Jim always knew about Bones…

Leonard McCoy is a man who was meant for love—in every sense. Jim knew that on their first shuttle ride to the Academy, from this man who talked about his little girl like she was the lighthouse beacon in his stormy sea of a life. Jim knew the first time he saw Bones that that man was something special, though if you asked him that first day he wouldn’t have been able to articulate why, exactly. Sure he could name all the little things he saw from the first—that stubborn set to his shoulders; the clenched jaw during the ride that bespoke of nothing but determination to get through this (and Jim has seen that look of his a lot, in both battle and diplomacy); his preference for good Kentucky Bourbon; Hell, he could talk about the rugged beauty of the man, easily, but who couldn’t? But most of all, and the thing that drew Jim to him like a moth to flame, it was just that glow the man has to him. It was tarnished then, hidden under a rough exterior of grief and booze and anger, but Jim watches it grow over the next few years, persistent as the last coal of a good fire that’s coming to life again.

Bones has an inner light like you wouldn’t even believe, and it comes from that heart of his, that heart that can feel the pain of others and wants to heal them, inside and out.

Bones is the kind of man who will do surgeries with the ship rocking under his feet, violent as a storm, and he will calmly demand the next scalpel, the next hypo. He looks Death in the eye every damn day, it seems like, and says “Not this one, not today,” and he puts people together like jewelers reassemble pocketwatches, all certainty and concentration and moving the small bits the eye can’t see, putting them right again. When he can’t, he grieves, and he puts the memory of them away in a special corner of himself in a place that’s all his own. (Jim watches him do this, and knows it can’t be helped.)

He’s the kind of man who can be taken hostage by a Klingon who puts a daqtagh dagger to his throat, and he says cool and even and calm, “The artery is two centimeters down. Now cut me already or let me go.” And damned if the Klingon doesn’t laugh and shove him to the side, because he’s an honorable man who doesn’t flinch in the face of certain death, and who would have thought a Terranan had such courage in him? They are impressed enough with this that Jim is able to negotiate the release for Bones plus eight other hostages, stalling for time til Scotty can bend the laws of physics some more, and the day is saved once again.

Bones is the kind of man who Jim Kirk wants to spend the rest of his life with. Jim knew that pretty quickly. Hell, everyone knew that pretty quickly, except Bones himself. Jim was patient though, because he promised himself that this was going to be the one thing he wasn’t going to fuck up, not ever. So he waits for Bones, waits three years, and it’s when he wonders if it was all just a stupid romantic dream that he should give up on that Bones storms into his quarters and tells Jim what he’s been waiting to hear since—well, since forever, it seems like.

And after that? It’s better than Jim had even thought it would be. On the Enterprise, it’s like at the Academy without the studying and the waiting: They get up at 0600, and they have their morning ablutions choreographed so they are both in the Captain’s mess at 0645, and Yeoman Rand is already there with the coffee and the PADDs Jim needs to look at first thing in the morning, and whatever heart-healthy breakfast Bones has already approved for them. (After the first couple of days, Rand knows that it’s always going to be those two, and she coordinates with the kitchen staff and the replicators so that they have what the Doctor orders instead of what the Captain requests—most of the time. She also doesn’t question after the first day that yes, Doctor McCoy will be eating with the Captain, every day, so there.) And then it’s all seeking new life and new civilizations, and they are back in their quarters in the evening, and—it’s amazing how fast it becomes their quarters with their stuff all mixed up, Jim’s small collection of paper books sharing the limited shelf space with Bones’s holovids of Joanna.

So. It’s almost two years into their mission when Jim makes his mind up about The Question. He spends longer than he would prefer making his mind up about how he wants to do this, surreptitiously browsing ring catalogs on his PADD and deciding whether he wants to wait for shore leave or to ask on the Enterprise. He has a Pro/Con list on his PADD that he starts one afternoon during a dull end-of-shift on the bridge, and eight weeks later it’s longer than his arm and somehow Rand knows all about it. (“I’m paid to know things like that, Captain,” she says. “Shut up, Yeoman,” says Jim. “Yes, sir,” says Rand. Two minutes later, Jim’s brow is furrowed in thought. “His ring size is eight, sir,” says Rand. “How do—“ Jim starts. “I said I’m paid—“ “Thank you, Yeoman. That will be all.”)

Jim goes to their quarters one night and to his surprise the lighting is at sixty percent and there’s a table set for two with flowers in a vase and real candles lit up, and Bones is waiting for him. He’s fresh from a shower, brown hair combed back and still damp, cleanshaven and smelling like soap and cologne. He’s wearing a gorgeous brown shirt, shiny like silk, and dark slacks, and Jim’s first thought is He looks good enough to eat! which is closely followed by his second thought of What is going on?

But he stops thinking altogether when Bones kneels down on one knee and he’s holding this little box and talking, and Jim only hears bits of what he’s saying because he’s too shocked: “Wasn’t planning on this but—“ “It feels right—“ “I love you, Jim, please—“ “Marry me.”

That last bit is the only thing that really gets Jim’s attention, and that meal doesn’t get eaten ‘til it’s cold, and they are in bed later and Bones is laughing at him. “I guess that’s a yes, huh?” he says.

Jim stretches beside him, delighted and smug as a cat. “I dunno, you should ask me again, just to be sure.”

Bones’s smile is slow, and his eyes glow darkly with that special look that’s all Jim’s own. “You’ve already got the ring on, but okay then.” He rolls Jim under him. “Marry me,” he says again, not even a question.

Jim laughs. “Yes,” he says. He kisses Bones. “Yes.” Kisses him again, “Yes,” again, “Yes,” again—

“Fool boy,” says Bones, his Georgia drawl deepening with affection.

“Maybe,” says Jim, “but you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

“Damn right,” agrees Bones, who wouldn’t, and would only ever want Jim just the way he is, the Jim he knows like no one else.


Gratuitous Author’s Notes:

Field theory references the work of pyschologist Kurt Lewin. It is the “proposition that human behavior is the function of both the person and the environment” as well as “the totality of coexisting facts which are conceived of as mutually interdependent.” Um, according to the internets.

Would Jim know Johnny Cash? I don’t know; I hope so. I like to think that the Music Appreciation classes three hundred years from now would have something to say about The Man in Black. But that’s probably just me.

The “Finnegan Incident” referenced is from “Captain’s Log: Fathers and Sons.”

The bit about Jim practicing throwing his communicator away—I got that from one of the official Star Trek novels I read years and years ago. I’m not sure which one—I suspect it was Enterprise by I think Diane Carey, or something like that. But I always thought that was such a great detail, such a Kirk thing to do. So it’s here, too.

Phlox has a Pyrithian bat in Enterprise.

Rok-tor is the name of the Vulcan colony in a WIP of mine. It means roughly “to hope” in Vulcan.


( 20 comments — Add your .02 )
Apr. 12th, 2010 04:34 am (UTC)
Gahh. *melts into a puddle* Loved this, especially this description of Bones:

Bones is the kind of man who will do surgeries with the ship rocking under his feet, violent as a storm, and he will calmly demand the next scalpel, the next hypo. He looks Death in the eye every damn day, it seems like, and says “Not this one, not today,” and he puts people together like jewelers reassemble pocketwatches, all certainty and concentration and moving the small bits the eye can’t see, putting them right again.


And this made me smile:

Jim Kirk is truly, madly, deeply in love with Leonard McCoy.

Everyone knows that, and they all knew it before he did, too. Dammit.

*pets oblivious Bones*
Apr. 12th, 2010 04:37 am (UTC)
Hee, thanks!!!
Apr. 12th, 2010 06:07 am (UTC)
I love that Jim would throw the communicator, just to practice.

And this is all so perfectly in character with the two of them (and Rand. I love her) that it just makes me go GUH.

Very well done!
Apr. 12th, 2010 10:44 pm (UTC)
Aww, thanks! I wish I could take credit for that detail, but nope. It's just in my personal canon now. :)
Apr. 12th, 2010 06:12 am (UTC)
This was incredibly sweet. I loved it. Thank you for sharing.
Apr. 12th, 2010 07:33 am (UTC)
I'll comment properly when I come back from lectures, but just now? AWESOME WIN my friend :D
Apr. 12th, 2010 10:24 am (UTC)
So I'm back, and Oh my woah this is awesome! The way you picked the things that Bones knew which are little things but work so well, the way you worked in the hunour and the love, the way that Bones being made for love is just right - Very, VERY well done :D

Thumbs up :D
Apr. 12th, 2010 11:57 am (UTC)
Lovely fic. The one vignette that really struck me about Kirk was with where he was turned into a woman... I don't even know why, but something about how he and McCoy were in that one made my heart melt into goo:)

Apr. 12th, 2010 10:44 pm (UTC)
Awesome! I'm thinking about how to make a longer fic about that. :)
Apr. 12th, 2010 04:40 pm (UTC)
Oh, I adore this, in its calvacade of perfect details, in its gorgeous overall shape. *inscribes into my personal canon*
Apr. 12th, 2010 10:45 pm (UTC)
*blush* Wow, thanks!!
Apr. 12th, 2010 05:20 pm (UTC)
"2. Jim Kirk is truly, madly, deeply in love with Leonard McCoy.
Everyone knows that, and they all knew it before he did, too. Dammit."

Apr. 12th, 2010 06:28 pm (UTC)
Great fic, thanks.
Apr. 12th, 2010 10:55 pm (UTC)
Just beautiful. Absolutely, stunningly beautiful.
Apr. 12th, 2010 11:04 pm (UTC)
Wonderful! I really loved the descriptions of each other, how they see other, how they're always going to be there for each other, just the way they should be.

Apr. 13th, 2010 07:54 pm (UTC)
now they know that he is a man who knows pain, and that he will do his damnedest every time to keep anyone else from being hurt. And he does

Fool boy

*happy, dreamy, romantic sighhhhh* thank you!
Apr. 27th, 2010 10:23 am (UTC)
That was so good... i loved how Bones knew those small little things about Jim, even when they weren't together. It was so adorable how everyone knew Jim loved him except for Bones and Jim was just patiently waiting for Bones to realize it.

Just loved this.

Thanks for sharing;-)
Apr. 27th, 2010 01:45 pm (UTC)
Aw, thanks! Your comments just made a rather grim morning nice!!!! :)
Jan. 15th, 2011 03:36 am (UTC)
so, I'm gratitiously rereading your fics, and I have to say, as much as I love some of them, this one's got to be one of my favourites. #1 is quite amazing, and I don't even care for Johnny Cash. the +1 is amazing as well - "Leonard McCoy is a man who was meant for love..." - you describe these charectors is amazing and totally true to form and, well... I'll be stalking your lj page for more.
Jan. 15th, 2011 03:58 am (UTC)
<333 Awesome!!! Enjoy. *g* Please leave feedback, I really do keep things in mind that way!!
( 20 comments — Add your .02 )

Latest Month

April 2018


Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Tiffany Chow