The third in a sort-of series based on "Some Nights", using some of my favorite pairings. Don't quote me on that, I don't know if I'll be able to keep it up.
As per usual, none of this is mine yet. And I am my own editor.
'So, without further gilding the lily and with no more ado, I give to you,' the story!
This is it, boys, this is war. What are waiting for? Why don't we break the rules already?
I was never one to believe the hype; save that for the black and white. I try twice as hard, and I'm half as liked.
Captain James Tiberius Kirk was not an obedient man. Hell, who needed to be obedient when you're the captain? Nobody, that's who, and certainly not Jim Kirk. And so it came to pass that he ignored Uhura's orders - come on, she's not the boss of him - and beamed down onto the seemingly harmless and empty surface of an unknown planet. Please note the key word here - "seemingly".
Mr. Spock, loyal friend and hard-working First Officer, followed Kirk down to the surface. Why? See above: "loyal friend", and "First Officer". He couldn't let Kirk die alone down there. He was greeted with the Kirk preparing his phaser, switching it to stun rather than kill. The captain felt the presence of a new person and spread his arms wide.
"This is it, boys. This is-" Kirk turned around and started slightly. "Where is everybody?"
"On the ship. None of them were foolish enough to follow you." Spock pulled his own phaser from its holster. "I suppose I am your army today, Captain."
Kirk looked Spock over and grinned. "That'll do, pig."
"I am not-"
"I know, Spock."
Kirk nodded to his First Officer, motioning to a bluish rock formation to his right that seemed to be inching closer, effectively ending their conversation. Both men - well, one man and one half-and-half - prepared their phasers.
When Kirk opened his eyes, he was in an all-too-familiar place - sick bay. He turned his head and groaned at the pains that shot through it. There were two hands gripping either side of his skull immediately, moving it slowly back into place.
"Don't move, you whacked your head something awful." Bones ordered. Kirk frowned; the last thing he remembered was attempting to stun some sort of thick alien that had been equipped with some new sort of high-tech, laser-shooting, captain-frying gun.
"Not shot?" he asked. Bones released Kirk's head.
"Not shot. Spock made sure of that." Bones moved out of the way and motioned to the cot behind him. "Something about you just seems to make the green-blooded bastard emotionally compromised."
"Son of a bitch." Kirk heaved himself out of his own cot, thoroughly ignoring Bones and whatever he was shouting at him, and began his own examination of the half-Vulcan. "What happened?"
"Well, you are an idiot who nearly got yourself killed, and he is the much stronger, yet still just as idiotic, alien-man who saved you." At Kirk's now-is-not-the-damn-time face, Bones sighed. "Aliens got you, tried to blast you, Spock pulled a cliché and took the shot. They were shocked, you grabbed him, we beamed you out." Bones grinned slightly. "Your head injury is from him landing on you on the pad. Not even a war wound, Nice try, King Arthur."
"Jesus, Spock." Kirk discovered the bandage chest of his friend, the gauze covering the wounds and singed flesh.
"Thank God you're alright, though, Jim." Bones clapped a hand on the Captain's shoulder. "Don't know what we'd do without you."
Kirk allowed himself to be steered back onto his cot; he even allowed Bones to inject a knockout serum into the back of his neck. His head lolled to the side as he began to drift off, and he locked his eyes on someone who they really couldn't do without.
"Don't die on me now, big guy." he slurred. "Still need my First Officer."