Jim + Spock

Jim + Spock

Jim + Spock

Jim + Spock

Jim + Spock

Jim + Spock

“Oh. My. God.”

Jim Kirk looked up from the pad of paper he’d been scribbling on to the wide-eyed incredulous stare of Leonard “Bones” McCoy .

“What?”

“I thought you were actually taking notes during that lecture only to find out you’re writing that crap instead.”

Jim snorted. “Notes? You have to be kidding.”

“I don’t know, Jim. I thought maybe we came here to attend this conference to learn something. Silly me. You’re acting like a lovestruck school—”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.” He leaned back in his chair. “It’s not that I don’t want to learn, Bones, but on this particular subject—”

“Hush.”

Just then the lecturer approached their table. The man, Abraham Waller, hurried over to Jim.

“Captain Kirk! What a pleasure.”

“Hello, Abraham. It’s great to see you. And please, it’s Jim.”

“Jim.” He glanced at Bones. “You must be Doctor McCoy. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Bones, looking unusually uncertain for him, shook Abraham’s hand. “Yes, I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Great lecture and subject.”

“Thank you, but of course Jim’s responsible for the course material and all that I spoke of.”

Bones stared at Jim, mouth hanging open. He closed it. “Of course.”

“Jim, if you’re available this evening, my wife and I would love to meet you for dinner.”

“That would be great. Contact me later with the information and we’ll set something up.” Jim smiled.

“I will. Nice to meet you again, Doctor.”

Bones gave him a look. “You could have told me, you know.”

Jim shrugged. “And missed that shocked look on your face?”

“What could you have told the doctor?”

“Oh, hey, Spock.”

“Jim here pretty much wrote our last lecture.”

Spock nodded. “I am aware.”

“Wait, you told Spock but—”

“Bones.”

Spock glanced down at Jim’s pad. “Jim + Spock? What does that mean, Captain?”

“It means that your captain is a school—”

Jim laughed. “Actually, Abraham Waller wants to have dinner, how about you be my plus one?”

“Very well, I accept.”

Bones grimaced. “Just like that?”

“Just like what, Doctor?”

Bones sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Jim just asked you out on a date, your first date, and you agreed without so much as a by your leave.”

Spock stared at him. “As a matter of fact I have gone on several dates with the captain.”

“Dates?” Bones asked, incredulous.

“Correct.”

“Dates like to dinner.”

“We often dine in the mess together.”

Bones chuckled. “That doesn’t count. That’s a group thing. Movies, romantic dinners, long walks, that kind of thing. That’s a date, Spock. Not chess or eating in the mess.”

Spock seemed to consider this. “I see. That is the only definition of dates with regard to the captain?”

Jim smirked as Bones seemed quite satisfied with the entire thing.

“Well, was there something else you consider a date, Spock?” Bones asked, grinning.

Spock shrugged. “So, the numerous occasions we engaged in sexual intercourse do not, in fact, count?”

Bones choked. “What?”

Jim rose. “You should have minded your own business, Bones. Come on, Spock. Let’s get ready for our first date according to Bones.”