Fic: "If You're Going to San Francisco..."

[mijan]

Title: "If You're Going to San Francisco..."
Author: mijan
Rating: PG
Summary: An outtake scene from the shuttlecraft trip. What happened after the scene cut away? Here are my thoughts on that.
Canon: Based in the ST:XI universe, but strongly influenced by TOS.
Total Length: 2,167 words
Characters: McCoy, Kirk
Disclaimer: Gene Roddenberry and Paramount Pictures own these pretty boys. I just play them like puppets in my cardboard box theatre.

Notes: I started writing this about ten days ago while on an airplane, flying from Kansas to San Francisco. Looking down at the plains and the mountains, anticipating seeing San Francisco for the first time, this was just begging to be written. I finished it while overlooking the city from my room at the inn. I haven't had a chance to post it until now, so... here it is!



"So why are you on this flying tin can, kid?" McCoy asked as he accepted his flask back from Jim. "No uniform, and you're a damned mess. Running from something?"

Jim chuckled to himself. "Nah. I guess you could say I'm here on a dare." No need to go into details with a guy he'd just met, Jim reasoned.

"Right," McCoy said slowly, eyeing Jim's shirt and face meaningfully. "Then what the hell happened to you?"

"What? Oh." Jim looked down at his shirt, which still had dried blood on it. "I never quite did get the hang of clothing reprocessors," he said in the manner of a brush-off.

McCoy snorted. "Uh-huh. How did the other guy look?"

"Oh, about like that," Jim said under his breath, indicating with a tilt of his chin towards the oversized cadet sitting further down the row. "But I'm sorry to say, he was that ugly when we started. Didn't see much of the other three."

One sceptical eyebrow shot upwards, appraising him. "You took on four, huh? Great. Reckless and sarcastic."

"As if I've got a monopoly on sarcasm between these two seats," Jim said lightly. "Besides, Cupcake there pulled the sucker-punch to start the mess. Clearly, he recognized my obvious advantage in a fair fight."

"And you got into a brawl with fellow cadets the night before shipping out why?"

"Well, I wasn't planning to enlist yesterday."

The second eyebrow jumped up to join the first one. "Sarcastic, reckless, and impulsive." McCoy leaned his forehead into his hand and grumbled something that sounded like "goddamned kid gonna get himself killed out there."

Jim scowled. "Hey, give me some credit here. I can take care of myself."

McCoy rolled his eyes and leaned his head around, looking more at Jim's face and less at his bloodied shirt. From there, Jim got a better whiff of the bourbon that McCoy had been drinking, but the man's eyes were still steady, as if he'd either drunk less than it seemed, or he was far too accustomed to the liquor. Jim guessed the later.

"All that just from last night, huh?" McCoy said appraisingly.

"Yep."

"Didn't go home?"

"Nope."

Eyes narrowed slightly. "Didn't see a doctor?"

"Not a chance."

Then, without so much as a warning, McCoy reached up and lightly grasped Jim's chin, which shocked Jim for two reasons. First, he wasn't used to having anyone touch his face unless he was in the middle of a good fuck or a bad fight. Second, he was taken aback by McCoy's hand itself. Less rough than Jim had expected from such a gruff man, the touch was gentle and strangely soothing.

"What?" Jim asked uneasily, beginning to lean away, hoping this strange guy would take the hint and let go.

"That nose needs to be reset, you might have a hairline fracture under your left eye socket, and you've got at least a mild concussion."

Surprised by the almost-professional tone, Jim finally pulled back, ducking under McCoy's reach. "Hey, who asked you? If I wanted to see a doctor, I'd go find one."

"Just your luck, kid. You did." He took another swig from his flask.

Jim recalled the scuffle of a few minutes ago between the Lieutenant and McCoy, and nodded slowly. "Oh yeah, so I heard. I thought you were bullshitting."

McCoy shook his head to himself as he capped the flask and tucked it back in a jacket pocket. "The one goddamned thing she couldn't take from me," he said darkly. He jerked his head towards Jim again. "You get your ass to the infirmary when we land at the Academy and get yourself patched up."

"No need," Jim shrugged. "It'll be fine. I hate doctors." He rethought that. "No offense, of course. Maybe you don't seem so bad."

At that, McCoy actually chuckled dryly. "Then after in-processing, come with me. I'll fix it."

Jim felt his stomach lurch uneasily. Who was this drunken quack of a doctor, and why did he give a shit? Maybe he didn't, Jim reasoned. A new divorcee, out of money and luck, with only his profession and his bones left to his name? Maybe he needed something to do. Maybe he needed to focus on something other than his own misery. It didn't make the unsettled feeling in Jim's stomach go away though. He didn't like the idea of anyone taking care of him for anything.

"Uh, thanks –"

He was interrupted by the lurch of the shuttlecraft as it lifted off the ground. As always, Jim felt the little thrill that he'd always gotten whenever he travelled by air. He loved to fly, and he felt himself lean forward just a little bit in anticipation. And that's when he noticed McCoy's knuckles going skeletal white as he strangled the safety harness over his chest. They perfectly matched the clenched jaw, the lines of tension around eyes that were tightly squeezed shut, and the sudden pallor in McCoy's cheeks. Damn, the guy really does hate flying. I hope he knows what he's got himself into.

He would have just brushed it off, appreciated the swig of booze, and let the guy suffer on his own, but McCoy was the first person who had shown him even a hint of concern – whatever his motive might have been – in years. Sure, Jim wasn't exactly comfortable with that, but that didn't mean the gesture should be ignored. Jim leaned in a bit closer.

"Hey McCoy?" he whispered. No response. "Uh… Leonard?" If anything, the man's eyes squeezed tighter shut. Frowning, Jim nudged the man's knee with his own. "Hey, Bones?"

One eye popped open, a mix of fear and confusion swimming beneath a hard front of irritation. "What?"

"You really hate flying, don't you?"

"Gee kid, ya think?"

Jim cocked his head. "Well, you're going to have to get over that, ya know."

He snorted while simultaneously adjusting his grip even tighter on the safety straps. "Yeah. Fixin' phobias ain't like mending a broken nose."

"I didn't say it was. But if you want to get through Starfleet… maybe if you talk to one of the counsellors –"

"I'll be fine," he snapped under his breath. "I hate fucking psychoanalysts, masquerading as doctors, using their so-called advanced knowledge to ruin your entire life because your wife is slipping them your own money under the table so they'll sign off –" He stopped cold, and Jim knew he hadn't meant to say so much. He growled, closed his eyes again, and shifted his grip again on his safety straps. "'Nuff said." Seconds later, he blanched as the shuttlecraft banked into a turn as it climbed into the upper atmosphere.

Jim slowly nodded to himself. This wouldn't do. For years, nobody had given a shit about Jim Kirk, whether it was for his education, his mother's lunatic boyfriends, his injuries from crazy stunts he always found himself pulling, or… anything. Whatever McCoy's reason for giving a shit about the broken, bloody, beaten mess that was James T. Kirk, the fact remained that he did. And it looked like McCoy was broken, too. "Well, tell ya what, Bones. After in-processing, and after I go back with you to let you fix my nose… you let me help you."

This time, both of McCoy's eyes snapped open. "What?"

Jim fixed him with a steady gaze, still not quite sure what was making him say this. "Let me help you with that."

Seemingly reassured by Jim's own impression of calmness, if only temporarily, McCoy searched Jim's face, and Jim couldn't help but think of a man dying in the desert who can't believe that the oasis isn't a mirage. "Why?"

Jim tipped his head. "You offered to help me first."

McCoy's eyebrows furrowed in a scowl. "You're not a psychoanalyst, are you?"

Jim almost laughed out loud. "Fuck, no. More people would say that I need one."

For a long moment, McCoy stared at him. Finally, he gave a grunt and a nod before closing his eyes and shrinking back against his seat. It was all the affirmation that Jim was going to get, he knew, but hell… good enough. Why not?

Besides, he thought cynically, if Cupcake over there is going to be hanging around, it might be good to have a doctor for a friend. And the guy did share his booze.

Jim felt the shuttlecraft level out, and he glanced out the viewport. The sky was dark above and a vivid blue along the horizon. They were in the upper atmosphere. Below, the surface of the earth was slowly crawling across the bottom of the viewport. Jim watched as green fields gave way to tan plains, and then the Rocky Mountains jumped up and split the land, separating both the continent and Jim's old life from his new. Dark swaths of trees over brown mountains ran together with white salt flats and red smudges of iron ore eroding down ancient mountainsides, like the land was bleeding out beneath him. From here, the earth was a kaleidoscope of color and texture, spinning serenely in space like every other planet – a mystery and an adventure waiting to happen. No stale old farmhouse, no familiar faces, no man pretending to be his father…

Although it had taken some hard convincing from Captain Pike, Jim had to admit… as soon as he'd accepted the idea of joining Starfleet, it was like the whole thing had just gotten into his blood. All night long, his mind had raced with the possibilities. New planets, new stars, new adventures. Aliens, danger, challenges, mysteries – it was everything he could have wanted. He wasn't just walking away from his old life; he was racing towards a new one. It might be the same earth spinning below as the one where he'd awoken two days ago, pulled on a pair of jeans, and thought he'd fall asleep that night as the same miserable waste of space he'd been the day before… but it sure felt different.

It always looks so much better from up here, Jim thought.

"Really?"

Jim felt himself jump in his seat, and snapped his head around. McCoy was regarding him intently, and Jim realized he'd spoken aloud. Swallowing his sudden unease at letting out any of his private thoughts, he nodded. "Yeah, it does. You gotta see this."

Instantly, McCoy looked terrified again. "No way, not interested –"

"Bones, take a look."

McCoy flattened his lips stubbornly, but he leaned forward and looked out the viewport. Slowly, his eyes widened and the tight set of his mouth relaxed.

Jim nodded, even though McCoy wasn't looking at him. "You said she got the whole damn planet in the divorce, right? Well, look at it, Bones. There it is. You've got it. You're the one who's here to see it, so it's all yours. From here, she's a speck. She can't touch you from here. You're so far above her and the whole mess. He can't bother you, he can't trap you, he can't hurt you –"

"He?"

Jim felt his stomach clench, shocked and disgusted at himself. I've never let that slip… never said to anyone… damn, my head actually does hurt. Change in cabin pressure from the altitude, maybe… maybe they did hit me harder than I thought, he thought uneasily. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed the bridge of his nose, which was actually quite painful. "Sorry," he mumbled. "A friend of mine… uh… a woman… she divorced an abusive guy recently, and I was thinking about that, and…" His voice trailed off, and he was sure McCoy wasn't buying any of it. Shit, shit, shit… fuck.

But if McCoy didn't believe him, he gave no indication. Simply nodded his head, shrank back into his seat, and closed his eyes.

Knowing that it was better to simply shut up, wait out the shuttlecraft ride, and pretend he'd said nothing, Jim settled down into his own seat. Maybe he should just take off by himself as soon as they'd landed, and face Starfleet Academy the same way he'd faced everything else – on his own. Sure, his head felt fuzzy, and if he could admit it to himself, he was pretty sure he did have a concussion and a broken nose, but he'd had plenty of those before and had survived them just fine without any help. Yeah, that was what he'd do. It was better that way.

Then McCoy cleared his throat. "You're right."

Jim glanced sideways without turning his head. "Huh?"

McCoy's eyes were still closed, but he was nodding slowly. "It does look better from up here."

With a shaky breath, Jim gazed back out the viewport. In the distance, he could already see the gleam of the Pacific ocean shining on the horizon under the early sunrise. He felt an unfamiliar sort of smile creep over his face. Unfamiliar… but strangely right.

On second thought, maybe he would stick with McCoy.

Comments

[kei-rin.livejournal.com]

You are pulling me away from my OTP (kirk/spock) and making me like it. *half hearted glare* And you're doing it with gen fic.

I wish this scene was actually in the movie or the book, it fits in really well. It was so clear (to slash fans at least) that Kirk and Bones were together during the academy but this shows why/how they would get to that point.

[mijan.livejournal.com]

MUAHAHAHA!!! Behold the power of ship-slanted genfic! And yes, it was pretty clear that Kirk and Bones had at least SOMETHING going on pretty early, even if it wasn't romantic. The BFF-thing is a pretty powerful connection. I wish more slashers wouldn't write off the importance of the amazingly close friendship in favor of going directly for the romance.

But yeah, I felt like there was more to that shuttlecraft scene that should show something of who those two really are.

Did you read my other Trek fic? It's actually quite gen-ish, really, although it develops the Kirk/McCoy thing, with an OT3-ish chemistry also showing.

[kei-rin.livejournal.com]

I'm in the middle of reading Perspectives right now and liking it. I haven't gotten that far yet because Az has reawakened my need to read HP fanfic (I've been hitting the back button on your journal trying to find that Percy/Oliver fic where they couldn't touch. I really want to read it.) and I also have to find time to write my fic based on Farscape's episode "Look at the Princess". It's due by the end of the month and I'm still trying to figure out where I'm going with it. Which means I haven't actually written a word of it yet. *feels frustrated and a little worried*

[mijan.livejournal.com]

To be fair, that old Percy/Oliver ditty is not on my Livejournal. It was a short ficlet, not something that I bothered posting when I created a LJ account. I'm trying to see if I can find it now.

[kei-rin.livejournal.com]

yay! \o/ Thank you. *hugs*

[mijan.livejournal.com]

For you, here's my Percy/Oliver fic:

Disclaimer: I've never written an Oliver/Percy fic, and I'll be honest, I've never read one either. So, here goes nothing:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And I don’t want the world to see me,
‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand.
Where everything’s made to be broken,
I just want you to know who I am.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is no greater pain than expectations. When you’re the captain and surrogate father to your Quidditch team, everyone has an expectation, and eventually, the expectations of others become your own. You would think that might make it easier, to believe that you want the same things for yourself as the rest of the world desires for you, but on the inside, it’s an emotional torrent. You find yourself pulled in two directions; to either follow your own heart, or to follow the echoes of the voices that ring through your head, masquerading as your own.

On the Quidditch pitch, Oliver could perform for the crowds easily enough. He loved the attention. He could pose for the girls, smile roguishly at their batting lashes and play the part of the Quidditch hero for whom every girl swooned. However, after the Snitch had been caught, the Quaffle set down, and the Bludgers firmly strapped into their holder, the illusion faded away, and it was once again possible to see the hazy line between his own dreams, and what everyone else seemed to have planned for him. Nobody else quite seemed able to understand, save one.

Percy toed a fine line, in the same way as Oliver. With excellent marks and a precocious demeanor, he had rapidly settled into a rut, needing to impress the world, to make the most of himself. Penelope fawned over his achievements of the past and gushed over the ones to come, but he had never been able to admit to her that it wasn’t exactly what he wanted. Worse yet, he hadn’t fully been able to admit to her that she wasn’t exactly what he wanted either. He cared for her, to be certain, but she was a girlfriend, a prefect, and someone he could swing elegantly on his arm for the sake of everyone else’s expectations.

He couldn’t tell her the truth, and probably never would, nor could Oliver have ever let his guard down, dropped his masculine edge, not where the world could see him. The boys had dreams, they had futures, they had images to uphold. To second-guess themselves would have ruined them. It’s a cruel world with no room for a rising star to flicker lest it be extinguished... but even a star needs fuel to survive.

Somehow recognizing this need in each other, the boys had been drawn together, seeking solace, understanding, and companionship where neither was forced to pretend.

...

[mijan.livejournal.com]

It had been after the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff quidditch game of their seventh year. The rest of the team had rushed to the infirmary to see if Harry was alive, but Oliver couldn’t face it. He loved quidditch with a passion, but a member of his team, his little brood, had almost died while under his care. Unable to face his team just then, especially Harry, he had bolted for the showers. His robes were already soaked to the skin, so he hadn’t bothered to take them off before turning on the cold water as hard as it could go, letting the artificial rain try to wash away all sense of guilt, hoping to turn his mind numb by freezing his body. After an unknowable length of time, barely audible above the water rushing in his ears, he heard a voice.

“Wood? All right in there?” Percy had walked into the shower room, probably sent back to check on him by Fred and George. And why not? He was a prefect; his job was to take care of the people in his house. Of course, Oliver was the last person who would appear to need someone taking care of him. Still, peering at Percy through water dripping past his brow, first he nodded slowly, then stopped, and shook his head once.

Oliver tried to grasp the shower knob to turn off the water, but his hands had gone numb. He fiddled with it, tried to pinch it between his wrists to turn it, but his efforts were completely ineffective. It was then that a hand reached around his side, wrapped around the lever, and shut off the water. Oliver turned around in surprise to see Percy standing next to him in the stall, now also dripping wet.

“Weasley, you’re soaked!” he exclaimed through chattering teeth.

Percy shrugged. “I can dry off. Right now, you need a towel more than I do. Your lips are positively blue. What were you doing in here?”

“I... I... quidditch game,” he finally mumbled, dropping his face towards the floor.

“The loss?”

Oliver’s head shot back up. “No! Well, yes and no. It’s Harry. The little bloke works his tail off, aiming to please, and he nearly died today, Percy. He nearly died, and it would have been my fault!” His hands began shaking, and it wasn’t from the mild hypothermia. He tried to clench them into fists, but his fingers were too numb, an all he managed to do was shape them into weak curves.

“Oliver, Harry’s alright. He’ll be fine. It was those bloody Dementors. You had nothing to do with it.”

“But god, Percy, I should have been able to do something. I’m the great Oliver Wood,” he mocked himself. “Tough, capable, and ready to handle anything. Not only did we lose, I couldn’t even protect my teammate. I can’t face them. I don’t know how to face any of them.”

“What do you mean?” Percy’s usual stoic expression had softened into a genuine concern. He wasn’t used to seeing Oliver like this. In fact, nobody was.

“Sometimes, I don’t think I’m the person everybody thinks I am.” He paused. “That probably doesn’t make much sense, does it? I’m probably just numb to the brain.”

Percy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “No, it makes perfect sense.” When his eyes opened again, they were gazing directly into Oliver’s, and an unspoken flash of understanding passed between them. “Come on. Let’s get you out of those robes before you end up in the infirmary with Harry.”

Oliver hesitated.

“Come on, Oliver. We’ll talk. Somehow, I think we both need to.”

The discussion that began while Oliver removed his frigid, wet robes, with Percy’s help, became one of many talks between the boys. It was their own small world, removed from the public eye. It couldn’t last, and they knew it. Both of them had lives to lead, futures to consider, and reputations to uphold. However, when Percy’s quill came to a rest for the evening, and Oliver’s quidditch gear had been set aside, they had their time together. There, they could say whatever needed to be said, or simply remain silent and enjoy each other’s unquestioning acceptance, in a place where thoughts flowed between them freely, and expectations didn’t exist.

[kei-rin.livejournal.com]

It's official, you do wonderful missing scenes. Yeah, I can understand where the boys are coming from. *hugs them and hugs you* Thank you so much for find it and sharing.

[mijan.livejournal.com]

*grins*

I'm glad you liked it! I should do more missing scenes, methinks.

[dramedy.livejournal.com]

Aww that's cute. I like it! Very sweet and honest and tumultuous. :D

[mijan.livejournal.com]

<3

Thanks, hun! More to come!

[paper-legends.livejournal.com]

I really liked the angle of the wife slipping the shrinks money, b/c, other than being an alcoholic, maybe, I couldn't see any reason to deny McCoy visitation rights, really.... I truly enjoyed this!

[mijan.livejournal.com]

Well, they said it was a nasty divorce, so there had to be more to it. We all know that McCoy can be pretty emotional, and the reboot incarnation seems to have a couple of phobias and such (although TOS!McCoy was known to hate transporter travel), but to me, there had to be a REASON why he hated his wife so much and for everything he lost. A tiny bit of underhanded play on the part of the wife seemed just right. Poor Bones.

[syredronning.livejournal.com]

Yay, great friendship fic! \o/ Love the dialog, very believable, and how it's not instant infatuation on Jim's side because hell, McCoy is creepy and strange and looking like a drunken quack :)

Thanks you!

[mijan.livejournal.com]

Of course he looks like a strange, creepy, drunken quack. But... he's a strange, creepy, drunken quack who cares. And that both scares Jim AND draws him closer.

I'm glad you liked it!

[rubymiene.livejournal.com]

This scene works so perfectly with canon!

[vixys.livejournal.com]

*flails* Dude, I get back and this is awesome. Because there has to be some way for them getting between the shuttlecraft scene and Jim's Kobiyashi Maru obsessiveness, and this would just seem to be the perfect segue into that friendship. Awesome. :D ♥

Also, couple of awesome lines:

"As if I've got a monopoly on sarcasm between these two seats," Jim said lightly.
:D Made me giggle. Oh Jim, you snarky bastard. I have a weakness for snarky men. *facepalm*

He can't bother you, he can't trap you, he can't hurt you –
:( Oh Jim. *wibbles*

*flaily* :D *hugs*

[mijan.livejournal.com]

Glad to see you back! How was Greece? San Francisco was spectacular. I've got pictures, if you'd like to see. :)

And yeah, I really REALLY wish we'd seen more of the development of Kirk and McCoy's friendship (read: romance) during their cadet years, especially early on.

No problem with weaknesses for snarky men! And deeply wounded and broken, too! I like them that way. :D

I actually liked this line most:
Jim couldn't help but think of a man dying in the desert who can't believe that the oasis isn't a mirage.
I just got a mental image of McCoy's face at that scene, and I saw him looking just like that. *huggles him* My poor, broken boys.

So... would you be willing to beta some of the upcoming stuff I'm working on? :D

Oh, and because I can't resist, here's at least a couple of pictures.

1. Me and my beloved bridge. I have a strange obsession with the Golden Gate Bridge. Dunno why, but I love it:


2. Me at the Presidio, which is the future site of Starfleet Academy. I found this sign at the west end of the Presidio:


And this sign at the other end of the field:


Between the sentiments on the two signs... I think that place really is the perfect location for something like Starfleet Academy. I got a bit wibbly about it.

(BTW, please forgive the hair - was very windy there.)

3. I found this set of walking paths through a thick, beautiful wooded grove, between the Bridge and the Presidio. I imagine Kirk and Bones taking a meaningful sort of walk-and-talk sort of thing there in an upcoming fic I'll be writing. You should have seen the grove further down the path. It was gorgeous.

[vixys.livejournal.com]

See, I can't figure out what I think about Kirk/Bones at the Academy - I mean, whether they were together (in my head!canon) or not. I prefer to write established relationship, so I don't really deal with that too much - and especially for the glass/fingerprints/sealed 'verse I can't figure out what they were to each other at the Academy. Obviously pretty much everything, going on the mad co-dependency and the messed up backgrounds from them both, but I don't know relationship-wise. Hmm. /ramble :D

NOT RESISTING THE URGE TO POST PICTURES IS A GOOD THING. And this: "Dedicated to all those people who find this park a beautiful place to dream."? There's something very beautiful in those few words. And that last picture hits all my woody, half-wild, private-corner loves right head on. *loves picture*

Also? The Golden Gate Bridge is freaking awesome. :D I went to San Fran with school in '05, and we went under that bridge, and it was just like... *flaily* :D Yeah, I'm good at coherency.

I LOVE TO BETA. :D Translation: I would be more than willing to beta for you, m'dear.

Also, I have next to no photos of Greece because my brother has lost my goddamn camera. *angry face* There's a couple my dad took, which I might nick in the next few days or so, but idk. Lots of boats. And sea. AND PRETTY, PRETTY STAFF ON THE YACHTS. :DDDD ♥

*hugs* I guess the con was awesome, then?

[mijan.livejournal.com]

Heee! Yes, the con was supremely awesome. I mended a few bridges, saw a lot of good friends, saw Wicked for the third time, and... did you see my wrap-up post that I posted a couple of days ago? It's got a pretty good summary of everything I did. No pics there, but I'll probably post some of them tomorrow. And yes, the Bridge is supremely awesome. I admit a minor obsession with it. But just all of San Francisco is gorgeous. I wish I lived there.

And I hope you manage to get a few pictures of Greece to share! Can't wait to see if you do!

And now... must go to bed... pondering fic plots as I go...

Chat more soon! &hearts'

[tobemeagain.livejournal.com]

Yes I went looking to see if you'd written more ST - happy me *g* I love that you can their interplay right from the start and you just build on it. In one of the comments you mentioned friendship first - I've always felt with these 2 that would definitely be the way. Oh don't get me wrong I love the smut, but there friendship will always be the driver of any further relationship. (Sorry for rambling away)

[mijan.livejournal.com]

Ooh, never apologize for rambling! I love it when people ramble in their reviews. It gives me insight into what they enjoyed about the fic, what thoughts they had while reading, and what impact my story had on them. That's the best part of posting a story - seeing how readers felt when reading it, and what parts meant something to them. :)

[jaylee-g.livejournal.com]

Wow. I'm impressed, truly. This was fabulous. The characterization of both Kirk and Bones was spot on. And the subtle humor and quirkiness of Jim's thoughts painted him so vividly in my mind while I read.

Jim almost laughed out loud. "Fuck, no. More people would say that I need one." LOL! Loved that.

Most touching, though was the first hint of camaraderie between Kirk and Bones, and the hint of their close bond to come. Especially with lines like:

Whatever McCoy's reason for giving a shit about the broken, bloody, beaten mess that was James T. Kirk, the fact remained that he did. *happy sigh* Just wonderful.

[mijan.livejournal.com]

*grins* I'm glad you liked it! I was literally flying to San Francisco when I wrote this, and I just HAD to.

If you're up for a longer read, try "Perspectives." You can find it just a couple of pages back on my LJ.

[nikki4noo.livejournal.com]

As I said in chat, this is just perfect. Beautiful feeling of being up in the air and also I could hear the voices in my head as the characters spoke. To me, this is canon and flows so naturally from the scene in the movie.

[kim-cc.livejournal.com]

Stalking your journal I thank you for the masterlist you've just posted as I sit down to read.

Your hints of back-story and explanations of motives/emotions that start the great Kirk-McCoy friendship/love-story/romance are very fulfilling. The scene in the movie shows the initial ice-breaker but you've developed a fully fledged conversation and hints for the future.

Kim CC
(Who'll probably be commenting on other of your fics soon)

[mijan.livejournal.com]

Hey, I don't mind being stalked when someone is enjoying my writing! And DAMN, you read FAST! That's just impressive.

I'm glad you liked this little interaction. I really felt like the scene in the movie cut off too soon, and it just needed something. Besides, I was literally on an airplane, flying to San Francisco when I wrote this, and it was just begging to be written. *grins*

I'll reply back to your other comments later - I've got to get to the gym, and then to a party. :)

[thistlerose.livejournal.com]

This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. *happy sigh* I love the way they need each other and resist each other and can't help but fall into step with each other in the end.

[mijan.livejournal.com]

*grins* I just really felt like there had to be more to that scene. And I literally wrote this while I was on an airplane, flying to San Francisco, and I just couldn't resist. My wife also happens to suffer from a slight case of aviaphobia herself (we hit turbulence, and I get fingernail marks in my forearm), which made it even more amusing to me. And a bit painful at times. *grins more*

[fiona-fawkes.livejournal.com]

:D

[xingou.livejournal.com]

\o/
SO MUCH LOVE!!

[xingou.livejournal.com]

And I love you're explanation for why how came to call him Bones. XD

[slashqueen15.livejournal.com]

aw this was sweet :)

[elfsausage.livejournal.com]

Damn! I want to see the world from up there too! *wistful sigh*

[mijan.livejournal.com]

You've never been on an airplane?

[elfsausage.livejournal.com]

Oh yeah, I've been on planes (too many of the damn things), but the way you've described it they've gone up really high like Concorde used to do, so the sky goes dark & you can see the curvature of the earth. I always wanted to see that irl :-)

[mijan.livejournal.com]

Aaah yeah, I'd love to see it that way, too. Alas, maybe someday.

Oh, and you should know that pretty much the entire content of this fic got incorporated into "Convergence," which is on my Master List. So you get a much more refined version of this story, as part of a much bigger story. I hope you'll still like it when you get there. There are some changes.

[elfsausage.livejournal.com]

I've just started reading that one now! LOVE it so far! Pike is such a badass ;-) I'll finish it off after tea, I think. Food's starting to smell done ;-)

[kimuracarter.livejournal.com]

Love it! ... apparently, my current occupation is pillaging all of your fanfiction and leaving comments. Lol.

[mijan.livejournal.com]

*grins* Thank you! I totally approve of this current occupation! Feel free to remain thoroughly occupied with it!

(Also, this fic actually got integrated into one of my other ST fics, so you'll notice a whole bunch of familiar stuff when you read "Convergence.")