I don't own. And I can't believe I jumped on the bandwagon. I feel so ashamed. Well, hopefully my shame brings you entertainment.

… … .. . .. … …


The first time the Enterprise's Captain and Commander were left on a hostile planet, the crew panicked. The two security officers accompanying them were slaughtered by the natives and Spock had to demand someone beam them up. Kirk was barely functional, blindly following his first officer.

When the crew, finally overcoming their fear and worry, locked on to the pair, the transport bay was filled with cheers. Excluding McCoy, who was carefully selecting a series of hyposprays to make up for the fright Jim caused him. Still, they watched with baited breath as the lights of the transporter flashed and their commanding officers energized.

They weren't expecting the sight they were met with.

To say the two were sharing an embrace would be a dishonor to the compromising position they were found in. Jim's arms were wrapped tight around Spock's neck, one hand fisted at the collar of his shirt, the other clenched at the base of his hairline. One of Spock's hands was splayed across the middle of Jim's back, the other wrapped tightly around his Captain's bicep, bruisingly so.

"Bloody Christ Jim! What are you doing with your hands all over that green-blooded goblin?"

"Captain." Spock released him, pulling back slightly. "It was reckless of you to loose focus in such a dangerous situation. Had I not caught you, you would have fallen from the cliff face."

Everyone paused, letting his words sink in. More importantly, they let his tone of voice sink in. It was hoarse, almost scared. McCoy stepped forward slowly, reaching for Jim's shoulder.

"Sorry." Jim murmured, detangling his hands from his Commander. "I…I didn't mean to. I won't make you go through that again. Thank you."

"Damn it Jim." McCoy breathed, "Don't go needing your sorry ass saved another time or you're never going planet side again."

… .. .


Things had been fairly standard, if not a little exciting, for the crew over the next few missions. McCoy had finally agreed to stay ship side and wait for them. He'd rushed down to the transport when the security officer that had accompanied them was beamed up, a bloody mess. That counted as trouble. Moreover, he spun a quick story of the ambush as nurse Chapel rushed him off to Sickbay.

Now, McCoy stood impatiently waiting for when they got a clear shot at energizing the troublesome pair. No one was expecting what they saw upon their successful retrieval.

Jim was pressed up tight against Spock's chest, hands in the negligible space between them. Spock's hands were nearly white from their grip on Jim's hips, holding them together. He had leaned into the slight distance of height, their foreheads almost touching, eyes locked on each other.

As soon as the lights faded, Spock stumbled back and Jim turned to his CMO, panic in his eyes.

"Bones! Don't just stand there! Help him!"

And suddenly the emerald colored blood coating Jim's hands and the gaping wound in Spock's chest became obvious to everyone present. McCoy jumped to action, returning Jim's hands to the Vulcan's chest to stem the flow of blood as he shouted orders.

"Damn it you pointy eared bastard! You of all people shouldn't be in this situation." He hissed, thoroughly convinced they would never be allowed planet side again.

… .. .


McCoy was furious, adamant there would be no more missions for the Captain after this. He couldn't care less about the Vulcan bastard, but about this he was convinced. The entirety of the ground team had either been killed or beamed back up, leaving just the troublemakers planet side.

He just knew beaming back up would be interesting, and he was proven right moments later.

Spock was crouched on the transport pad, Kirk loosely in his arms. One arm wrapped around the Captain's waist. His other hand was fisted in Jim's golden hair, tilting his head back. Spock's head was slanted forward, locking their lips together tightly.

The entirety of the present crew members were at a loss for words. There were, however, no prizes for guessing who would recover first.

"The fuck?" Bones screeched.

A second later, Spock had laid the Captain flat, his hands pushing up and down repeatedly on his chest. McCoy responded quickly to the action, taking over chest compressions as Spock returned to rescue breathing.

"Someone call Chapel." McCoy bellowed.

Definitely not going back on a mission.

… .. .


As soon as someone beamed them up, he was going to kill that blasted Captain of his. Only James T. Kirk could turn a peaceful specimen gathering mission into this big of a mess. It was just fortunate he had managed to get all of the personnel back on board before anything went wrong.

Jim couldn't have planned a better way to get himself in trouble. He wasn't even sure what the hell was going on down there, just that the Captain issued some pretty damn frantic orders to find their position and lock on. Just so long as that pointy eared menace didn't have his hands on the Captain, he didn't care. The last thing he needed was the horrid visions of the two locking lips again.

Fortunately, he wasn't even close. Or rather, not so fortunately.

The pair materialized in yet another scandalizing position, something the crew was starting to become used to. This stretched the imagination a bit, searching for a plausible explanation.

Jim was on his knees in front of his first officer, hand closest to them ghosting up Spock's flank, pushing his shirt up. The other hand was braced against Spock's upper thigh, his lips level with the Vulcan's bellybutton. Spock's hands were twisted in Jim's hair, his head thrown back and eyes clamped shut. His harsh breathing, coming from parted lips, was the loudest sound in the stunned transporter room.

"I need a drink." McCoy announced, turning on his heel to leave.

"Bones." Jim sounded exasperated. "I can't get these thorns out on my own."

He swiveled back around to see his best friend in the exact same position, eyes glued sternly to the abdomen in front of him. Spock's face twisted ever so slightly, Vulcan training struggling against the sheer pain he was in.

Pale purple thorns were embedded deep in the Commander's skin, small dots of the broken off offenders snaking up his skin where a particularly unfriendly vine had wrapped itself around him before being removed. Bones groaned, ordering them to follow him back to Sickbay.

… .. .


It was impossible, really, for things to go wrong as often as they did. Even Finagle's Law wasn't that strong, though Murphy's seemed to be working just fine. If anyone was going to be choosing the option that ended in catastrophe, Jim would be it. Logically though, he shouldn't have managed to find so damn many options that would end poorly. It was like every disaster was tailor made for him.

McCoy hadn't even let him beam down to the planet until a scouting group had cleared it. There were rocks. Rocks and pools of mineral water. How much trouble could you get into on a planet that only had rocks and water? Honestly.

Scotty and Chekov both poured over the console, growing frustrated with the impossible nature of the planet. Something in the composition interfered enough that it took a few extra minutes to bring the search party back. Naturally this time had more than tripled for their Captain.

McCoy almost wanted to close his eyes when they finally had a lock. When Spock was the one to call in, things usually looked pretty bad.

"Keptin!" Chekov yelped, and McCoy looked up to see the cause of his distress.

Spock had their Captain mostly pinned beneath him, a hand on Jim's chest and the other twisted in his hair. Jim, curiously, had one leg wrapped around his Commander's torso. Both hand's clutched Spock's shoulders, pulling himself up from the pinned position. His teeth were sunk into his First Officer's neck, the pale flesh turning an angry green at the attentions.

Spock yanked him back by the hair and moved his other hand to pin Jim's wrists, shifting more of his weight on the body beneath him.

"Damn it! I'm a doctor not a therapist! Do you know how many crew members you've scarred with this shit?"

"Doctor McCoy. Sedate him." Spock growled, even as Kirk freed one hand and scratched his face.

Only now did he notice the medley of scratched and bite marks on Spock, like he had been attacked by a rabid dog. Or human. Red, strained marks from Spock's hands tightly gripping Kirk's wrists were visible for a mere second before he had the Captain pinned again. Jim was flailing his legs in a vain attempt to break free. McCoy jumped to action.

"What the hell happened? Why is he attacking you?"

"It seems the Captain ingested liquid from one of the mineral pools."


Once they got him back to normal, he was going to be confined to his rooms.

… .. .


"No. No! NO!" Scotty yelled in horror, scanning the surface of the planet for his wayward commanders.

Five medical personnel, and Doctor McCoy, shuffled impatiently, waiting for the surviving crew members to beam back up. The Sickbay was on standby for the incoming injured.

He couldn't deny his Captain this mission. It was supposed to be a simple meet and greet. Shake some hands, make some friends, get home. Jim hadn't even done anything wrong. The bastards had taken advantage of the Federation's peace attempts to try and kill the crew. Supposedly, they wanted to steal the Enterprise.

That was beyond stupid, and impossible. Killing the crew members on planet, however, was a very real possibility.

Sulu hadn't left the transport room, having already beamed up from the planet, a concussion dripping blood into his eyes. He refused to go so long as they were still on planet.

"Aye! I've found one of them!" Scotty cheered, locking on.

No body said a word when the Captain energized. He was bloody, his right arm clearly broken, his shirt in tatters, his hair disheveled. Cradled to Jim's chest was his first officer. Spock was pale, eyes closed gently, body limp.

Jim was wailing, tears pouring down his face as he clutched at his friend. He fluttered soft kisses on the Vulcan's face, as if the tender, needy affection would wake him up. His chest neither rose nor fell in response to the stimulation.

"Wake up! Please, Spock, wake up." He sounded so defeated.

The medical crew sprung forward, holding back fear. Bones pushed between the Captain and Commander, reaching for the Vulcan's neck to find a pulse. His heart nearly stopped when he found nothing.

"No! Don't take him from me! Don't take him!" Kirk wailed, hands scrambling for the body in front of him in spite of his own injuries.

"I'm trying to bring him back!" McCoy informed, shoving a hypo in Kirk's neck and sedating him. "Pick him up Sulu. We need all the hands we can get to get these two alright."

… .. .


The entire crew was solemn, somber blacks and grays dampening their usual bright colors. There were no uniforms today, only suits and dresses. Bones wanted to slam his head into a wall, but didn't. Instead, he shook his head softly, straightening Kirk's tie and patting him gingerly on the shoulder.

"I don't think I can do this." Jim confessed.

"It's alright Jim. Everything will be alright."

"What if…what if Sarek blames me for taking his son from him?" His voice was a whisper, tight.

"He already understands." McCoy sighed. "The entire crew understands."

Jim nodded, rubbing tentatively at his tired red eyes. He hadn't slept in the longest time and light tear stains marked his cheeks.

"For God's sake Jim, clean yourself up. Everyone's already planet side, waiting." McCoy informed him, leaving.

Down on the planet, with friends and family, McCoy huffed. Jim had been right behind him. Where did that bastard get off to?

No one present was surprised when Jim finally beamed down, arms wrapped around Spock's waist, lips pressed to his hand. An uncomfortable cough from Uhura brought them back to attention. Hands interlocked, they started down the aisle.

"Never figured I'd be doing this." Jim whispered, a happy tear leaking from his eye as he gazed at his long time friend.

"Indeed." Spock squeezed his hand lightly, the softest of smiles on his face.

Sarek's voice rang out over everyone. "We are gathered here today…"

… … .. . .. … …

So yeah. Wow. That was a little weird. Can't believe I' actually did one of these numbered…things. Hope it was as interesting for you as it was for me. It was kind of funny thinking up weird reasons for them to be in suspicious positions. Poor Bones. Hard to tell I love him, hu?