Inedible - (5 Parts)

[TheCakeIsAlive]

*joins obsessed in the dying*

You portray them so brilliantly! I never thought I'd enjoy a sneezy Kirk... but here I am.

I'm afraid that's all you fault. .... Thanks.

[obsessed]

Mmm, I think I'm in love with these scenarios.

[Masking]

"Hey," Kirk said, and jogged to catch up with Sulu's quick walk down the hallway. "Hey. What's that, Sulu?"

Sulu turned from gazing adoringly at the plant in his arms and smiled. "Hey, Captain. It's a new plant, from the away mission. I just got it deconned."

"Cool." Kirk reached out to touch the thing, but stopped himself when Sulu shot him a glare. "Sorry, just curious. What kind is it?"

"Don't know - apparently, it's native to New Vulcan," Sulu answered. "I've never seen anything like it before. Hey, you think I can convince some Vulcan botanist to name it after me? Sulu Flower, or something like that?" He stopped in front of the door to his quarters and punched in his access code.

Kirk shrugged. "You never know. Look, I gotta go in for a couple hypos that I'm sure I don't need, but tell me how it works later, okay?" He clapped Sulu on the back and started off towards sickbay.

"Talk to you later," Sulu called after him, and went into his quarters, the plant still in his arms. Setting it down carefully in the corner of the room reserved for new specimens - his others were in the botany lab - the pilot looked at his new acquisition and grinned. God, it was beautiful - thick blue stems with yellow, almost tentacle-like petals growing out of them. In the spaces between the tentacles and the petals lay tiny recesses; he'd look deeper into them, to see what they contained. Pollen, maybe.

"Hey, little guy," Sulu cooed at the plant. Chekov always teased him for baby-talking new specimens, but Chekov wasn't here right now. "I bet those Vulcans won't let me name you Sulu Flower, but I was the first one to discover you." He smiled. "Okay, yeah, down to business. Sensation..." Very gently, with the tips of his fingers, he stroked the tentacle-petal-things.

"Hm. Kind of rubbery," he noted, and touched the main stem. "Yeah, so this is the soft part...could be to get water easier. Do Vulcan plants have xylem? What's here?" He poked a finger against one of the little pockets.

A small cloud of bright orange pollen puffed out into his face.

The effect was almost immediate. As soon as Sulu finished coughing the stuff out of his mouth, his eyes started watering. "Huh?" he said to the empty room, and rubbed at them with one hand. "The hell's going on...hh...h'kshhhu!" His nose had never tickled so much. "Huh'eshh! Ah'ESHHu! Hhih...hashhu!" He sniffled, loud and liquid, reaching up to pinch his nose with one hand. "Huh-huh...holy crap, I...h'mphkshh!" His ears very suddenly popped, and he let go of his nose in surprise at the unintentional pressure equalization.

Sulu glared at the plant. "The hell?" he demanded, and sniffled again. "Why'd you have to go and" - sniff - "spit stuff out at me?" - sniff - "I never did anything...oh jeez...heh...heh...huh'ISCHHiu!" He swiped upwards at his nose with the palm of one hand, trying desperately to squeeze out the itch. "Ieschhu! Okay, that does it." Standing up (albeit somewhat unsteadily), Sulu ran out of his quarters as fast as his legs could carry him.

And ran right into Captain Kirk. "Oh, hey, Sulu - Bones is a liar, I didn't need those hypos," Kirk greeted, and growled, rubbing at his neck. "What's the matter with you?"

"I think I'b allergic to by new pladt," Sulu explained. "Hih'ieschh!"

Kirk stared. "Well, tough luck," he finally said. "I'd go to sickbay, if I were you."

Sulu took his advice, sniffling and cursing Vulcan-style plants the whole way there.

[obsessed]

... I want one of those plants. <3

[Masking]

... I want one of those plants. <3

So do I.

- - - - -

"Jim? Open up in there!" A loud bang sounded against the door to Kirk's quarters, along with McCoy's strident voice. "Let me in."

Kirk groaned and shifted in bed. "Computer, open door," he croaked. "C'mon in, Bones."

The doors opened and McCoy walked in, a hypospray in one hand. "You got the ship plague, too?" he remarked, and sat beside Kirk to pass a cool hand over his forehead. "Thought so. This'll bring down the fever." He found a place on Kirk's neck with one finger and injected the captain with the hypo, more gently than he usually did. "I've been seeing these symptoms since yesterday."

"Wha'zzit?" Kirk asked, head fuzzy and voice congested. "The stuff."

"Space flu, or something," McCoy answered. "It hasn't presented before, but it's not deadly, from what I've seen so far. You woke up with this?"

"Ynn-hnn. Couldn't go t'the bridge," Kirk mumbled. "Felt too...ick." He brought a hand up and slowly rubbed at his nose, taking in a deep breath as he did so. "Ah'hischhu!"

"Bless," McCoy said.

Kirk breathed in again, slowly, deep and shuddering, as the irritation in his nose built up again. "Hhih...ih...h'ikshh! H'yischu!"

"Jesus Christ, Jim." McCoy looked around Kirk's quarters. "Got any tissues?"

Kirk sniffled. "Ub. No."

"Use this, then. You shouldn't just sniff it up like that, Jim - that's unhealthy." McCoy took out a handkerchief and pressed it into Kirk's exposed hand. "Now, c'mon, blow your nose."

"Mm-hm." Kirk eased himself up into a half-sitting position and brought the handkerchief to his nose, blowing loudly. "Ungh, God..." He blew again, breathed in hard, and sneezed. "H'ischh!"

"Bless, again. Are you gonna be all right on your own?" McCoy said. "Spock'll probably drag you down to medbay if I ask him."

Kirk let out another groan. "Ugh. Just get outta here, Bones - I'm disgusting."

"So's half the ship. What is this - the Dark Ages?"

"I dunno. Jus' feels like I've been hit by a freight ship."

"It's supposed to feel like that. Unfortunately, it's gonna get worse before it gets better." McCoy patted Kirk's shoulder. "I have to go, but give me a comm if you think you're about to keel over. Some more yahoos managed to catch this, and I'm understaffed."

"Say n'more." Kirk weakly waved him off. "I'll comm you later. See ya."

"Fine." McCoy turned to go out, hearing another "Hih'eschh!" from Kirk as he went.

[obsessed]

Oooh, a flu?

[TheCakeIsAlive]

... I want one of those plants. <3

Me too!

And awww... ship-wide flu epidemic? ... I mean.... awwww

[Masking]

Kirk rolled over onto his stomach and groaned as his muscles protested. "Nngh." He tentatively stuck a hand out of his warm blanket fortress and swiped at his face, surprised to find it covered in sweat - he was cold. "Crap, 's'can't be good. Bones?" He waited a moment for McCoy's reply, before suddenly remembering that the doctor had left. "Yeah. No Bones. God, ow."

"Jim." It wasn't McCoy's voice, but it was low and comforting and familiar - enough so that Kirk's eyes snapped open to stare right into Spock's. "You are ill."

"Ynn-hn. Ship plague," Kirk mumbled. "How'd y'get in?"

"I used my override code when you did not answer my summons," Spock said, and reached up to flick at the tip of his flushed-green nose with one finger. "Pardon my indiscretion."

"Fine," Kirk said. How could he be mad, anyway? Spock only used the override code when he was so concerned about him that he broke through that Vulcan propriety. "You don' look so great. C'mere?" He made to hold out an arm but shivered instead, wrinkled his nose, and sneezed. "Hah'ishhiu! Huh'schuu!"

"I will, Jim." Spock sat down on the edge of the bed and bent to remove his boots, then slid in under the covers next to Kirk, who snuggled into him like there was no tomorrow. It wasn't often that they had a chance to be alone like this, but - even sick - Kirk would take it. "Your tear ducts are producing more than the typical amount of liquid."

"Yeah. It's 'cause I just sneezed." Kirk turned his head and rubbed his face into the pillow, but ended up half muffling a desperate "Ihh...ih'kshh!" into the less-than-smooth material. "And again." He sniffled and rubbed the palm of one hand upwards against his nose. "Christ on a stick."

"If I recall said Terran history correctly, Jim, Jesus Christ of Nazareth was crucified upon two large pieces of wood, not a stick," Spock answered, his voice warm and alive with just that hint of amusement, enough to make Kirk's rib cage feel warm and squishy. "Are you delirious?"

"Smartass," Kirk grumbled, and gave another liquid sniffle. "Can you get me a tissue?"

"Indeed I...ih...ihh...ah'ischh!" Spock half-muffled his sneeze into his shoulder and half into Kirk's; the feel of spray on his skin made the captain shiver. "P-pardon me - I believe I will...ah-haahh...s-sneeze again...ehh...h'ISCHiu!"

"Been waitin' for that," Kirk said. His voice was congested, low and rough and tired, but he still smiled behind it. "I can get 'em. If you want. You're sick, too, right?" Without waiting for Spock's answer, he reached over the Vulcan's form and retrieved the tissue box from its place of honor on his bedtable. "Here," he added, took a tissue, and blew his nose. "All yours."

"Thank you." Spock took out a tissue of his own, paused, and then grabbed another before clearing his nose. "I am ill; however, the infection with which we are stricken does not affect me as much as it does you."

"Kinda gathered. I mean, you're still walkin'." Kirk wiped at his nose with the tissue and yawned. "God, this knocks m'out."

"Do you wish to sleep?"

"Kinda." He closed his eyes and smiled again, a little, as he felt Spock's arms encircle him. "Let's just get frozen like this and spoon forever. I'll be the little spoon."

"Your analogy leaves something to be desired," Spock told him, but held him all the same.

And then the knock on the door had to ruin it. "Jim, open up - I know you have the hobgoblin in there with you, and so help me, if you're hiding from my hypos I'll...I...hih'huschhu!...dammit, I'll skin you both!"

Kirk groaned. "Crap. Computer, let him in."

[TheCakeIsAlive]

YAY! UPDATE! *happy*

Hmmmm.... so cute. Worried!Spock...

Can I have a sneezy hobgoblin? Pretty please?

[Masking]

McCoy came in as soon as the door opened, bristling and obviously very pissed off. "Of all the immature, stupid stunts, Jim," he said. "You two are the worst patients I've ever seen." He wrinkled his nose and wiped at it with his wrist before bending forward with a loud "Heh'hischh!"

"Look who's calling the kettle black," Kirk said, and nodded at the doctor. "You're sick yourself."

"I'm understaffed and can't afford to take any time off. I'll be fine," McCoy told him. "Spock, you should know better. Damn fool thing to do, hiding when you're sick. You come to sickbay right now and...ih'ESCHuh! H'schhu! Huh...ah'ISCH!" He sniffled and blinked hard. "Dammit, don't be such infants."

"And you quit trying to kill yourself with work," Kirk retorted. "You're sneezing your head off and you look like hell."

"Your nose and eyelids are fifty-six point one seven percent redder and more chapped than they usually appear to be," Spock put in. "The skin of your face is flushed and damp, and you have sneezed four times since entering the captain's quarters."

"Uh-huh. I never said I was a robot," McCoy said. "I'm only human, unlike you, so-called emotionless."

"You are clearly unfit for active duty."

"I'll decide that. Now shut up and come with me. "

"But Bones," Kirk said, making a sound that would have been a whine were he willing to describe it as such, "I'm comfortable here, and Spock is so warm. Does he have to leave?"

"Both of you have to leave, Jim. That nose of yours is twitchin' up a storm."

"It isn't." Kirk raised a hand and knuckled his nose, which was indeed twitching despite his protests.

"Fixin' to sneeze?"

"I'm not g-going to sneeze." Kirk rubbed harder at his reddened nose. "Not g-going...g'hischhu! Hah...hah'ishh!" He bit his lip. "Crap."

"'Not going to sneeze', my ass." McCoy folded his arms and stared down at Kirk and Spock. "You two are the most stubborn pair of idiots I've ever met."

"That is highly unlikely, doctor."

"Yeah, Bones, we love you too." Kirk crossed his eyes at him, breathed in loudly, and sneezed again. "Ah'kshhu!"

"Jim, get a goddamn tissue or something." McCoy reached over to the box, pulled out a few tissues, and held them to Kirk's nose. "Blow."

"I can do that myself, Bones."

"You'll keep sneezing if you don't - now blow." Kirk rolled his eyes and blew his nose into the paper, long and loud, then drew in his breath with a thick sniffle. "Again, Jim. Get it out."

"Thanks a lot, Bones." He blew again, then made another face at McCoy when he took the tissues from his face. "Anyone ever tell you you're weird?"

"I do not look forward to doing that again, if that's what you mean," McCoy said. "Fine. You two won't stop acting like slugs? Then I'm staying here with you."

"Doctor, I object to the logic behind such an action," Spock told him.

"I'm as likely to infect someone as the next person. I'll comm Chapel and tell her I'll take a few extra shifts later, and you two can't take care of yourselves, obviously. Shove over." Spock raised an eyebrow at him, but molded himself a little closer to Kirk, and McCoy climbed into the bed beside him. "Don't think this means anything. You're still a hobgoblin."

"Well, hey, Bones," Kirk murmured in his direction, sleepy again. "Y'know, I got a boyfriend."

"I'll be interested in you when hell freezes over, so you have nothing to worry about." McCoy reached over Spock and clapped Kirk on the shoulder. "Congratulations. Now shut up."

"He will fall asleep within a short time, I believe...ah...hah'schuu!" Spock's sneeze was muffled by the pillows and by Kirk's back, but it was still strong enough to partially catapult him backwards into McCoy. "Hah'kshhu! Pardon me, Dr. McCoy."

"Bless you, too, you green-blooded computer."

"I do not need to clear my nose at this point in time," Spock added.

"And I wasn't gonna offer. That's one thing that's not on my b-bucket l-lihhh...hhihh...ih'aschhu! Hih'ashhu! Urghh..." The doctor cupped his hands around his nose. "Y'all mind grabbing me something? Got kind of...out of hand here."

"I will assist you." Spock - more gently than McCoy would've expected from the hobgoblin - pried McCoy's hands away from his face and wiped his nose and upper lip with a tissue, then held it for him while he blew.

"Smug thing," McCoy grumbled. "Again, this doesn't mean anything. Go to sleep."

"Vulcans do not require the same sleep levels as humans do."

"Hey, Bones," Kirk yawned, "your nose is small, but it sure is loud."

"Shut up and go to sleep."

[obsessed]

Mmm, love your spellings. <3

[Masking]

And now for something completely different...Pike/Spock Prime. Because Pike doesn't get nearly enough hugs.

Just so you know: the way I see it, the Centaurian slug only paralyzed Pike for a short time, allowing him to leave the wheelchair after a few months of regenerative therapy - after which he walked with a limp due to lingering damage. He then began teaching command track at the Academy, at which Spock Prime resided between ambassadorial missions to New Vulcan.

Our story opens with a land hail.

- - - - -

"Greetings, Admiral Christopher Pike," said the Andorian on the vidscreen, and glanced around. "I am sorry to hear that you have lost the Enterprise."

Pike smiled and passed one knuckle under his nose. "I was proud to pass the ship on to its worthy successors, Tharin-Shren th'Kel." He'd dealt with the Andorian before in diplomatic negotiations, and knew him to be reasonable - speaking to him was a pleasure. However, the current tickle in his nose was not. "How are you? What brings you to hail Starfleet?"

"I am well," answered Shren. "My peers and I wish to speak with you regarding the Enterprise's travels into Andorian-controlled space."

A frown creased Pike's brow. "I'm no longer attached to the ship, as you know. However, if -" he broke off to rub at his nose again - "if there's been a misunderstanding, I'd be happy to contact them and -"

"No, no," Shren interrupted. "There is simply a matter of a moon amenable to trade in dilithium crystals. Does the Enterprise have need of fuel?"

"Always." Pike's face relaxed in relief, save the small twitches around his irritated nostrils - God, that tickled. He sniffled, feeling the lining of his nose respond to the itch by running. Of course, it had been like this for a day or two anyway. "Still, as I said, it would b-be better to contact Captain Kirk directly."

"I shall." Shren scrutinized him. "Are you well?"

Pike nodded. "Yes. I'm f-fine." As long as my nose doesn't decide to go Narada on me. Ugh, what a nightmare. "Is there anything else you...you need?" His breath was beginning to hitch - if he didn't get off the comm soon, he'd be sneezing all over it.

"No. I look forward to speaking with you again, Admiral."

"As I do you, Tharin-Shren th'Kel," said Pike. Shren nodded at him and the screen went dark; as soon as it did so, Pike snapped forward with a loud, spraying "Heh'haschhu!" into his hands. "Nngh," he groaned. "What I wouldn't give..." For a tissue, for a warm bed, for something to happen that would take away the building cold in his head. At least the itch was under control now, if not completely gone.

Pike shrugged - that was life, wasn't it? - shut down the comm, and slowly walked out of the communications room, intending to walk a few buildings down to his quarters. There, he'd be able to find at least some tissues and someplace warm to lie down, if not a cold remedy.

- - - - -

He punched in his access code and limped into his quarters, sitting down wearily on the bed. "Some hail," he said aloud, and wrinkled his nose.

"Was there trouble?"

Pike turned to see Spock sitting at his desk, a PADD in front of him. "Spock! You're back."

The older man raised an eyebrow. "Indeed I am. My mission to New Vulcan concluded earlier than I expected it to. Are you displeased?"

"No," Pike told him. "I'm glad you're here. It's been some day." He sniffled and rubbed at his nostrils with one finger. "Nearly made a fool of myself in front of a group of Andorians."

"How so?"

"Nose was acting up." As if to prove this point, the twitching therein became even more violent, and Pike sneezed "Ah'eschhu!" into his elbow. "Ugh. Sorry."

"Who do you apologize?" Spock stood up from his desk and made his way over to the bed to sit beside Pike. "The sneeze was not your fault."

"Yeah, but it's...m-move out of the way, Spock," Pike said, his breath beginning to hitch as another itch seized his nose. "Hih'aschuu! Ha'schiu! Uh'kschhu!" The fit was half-stifled into his shoulder, which turned out to be a horrible idea. It hurt, for one thing. "Nngh."

"Are you ill, Christopher?" Pike felt the back of a warm hand press against his forehead. "Your bodily temperature has risen by approximately one degree Celsius."

"That's not bad, I think," Pike said, and sniffled again. "Just a cold."

"An uncomfortable cold, it seems," Spock replied. "Do you have any engagements this afternoon?"

Pike shook his head. "No classes today. The command-track third-years are off on a retreat."

"Good," Spock said. "You shall stay here, then."

"Mm." Pike leaned into the older Vulcan's shoulder, relaxing a little. "You're too good to me." He brought a hand up and wiped at his nose, wincing at the sting. "Ow. I need a tissue - Spock, could you get me one?"

"This will irritate your nose less, I believe," Spock said, and took out a handkerchief, gently wiping away the moisture from under Pike's nose.

Pike rolled his eyes. "Spock, I'm fifty years old - I can do that myself, you know."

Spock's brown eyes sparkled. "I know that you are capable. However, I am thrice your age - may I indulge myself, and you, by caring for you in your illness?"

Pike sighed - a relieved, contented sigh, not an irritated one. "You can."

[swann_ee_song]

Just caught up on this thread since the end of May!

... How was I not following this dilligently?

[obsessed]

OOOOOH.

I do quite enjoy these very much. <3

[Hex]

I have been a creepy lurker for a while, so I suppose it's about time I told you that you write sick!Kirk amazingly and I love reading this thread

[Masking]

Spock Prime does sneeze in this installment - just letting you know, in case that's not your thing.

- - - - -

He was warm and comfortable, but Pike woke to a sneeze.

"Huh'asch!" The force of it propelled him up, straining against the tightly tucked covers. "Urrgh."

"Good morning, Christopher," Spock said - Pike glanced in the direction of the voice to see Spock lying beside him.

"Bording," Pike said stuffily, and sniffed. "You beed up all dight?"

Spock shook his head. "No. For a significant portion of the night, I remained in bed with you and warmed you when your inner temperature rose." He laid the back of his hand against Pike's forehead again. "The fever has decreased."

"Would'ya look at thad," Pike replied with a smile. "Hey, you god be tissues." He freed an arm and reached over to the box, bringing two tissues up to his nose to blow into. "Is this the lotion kind?" he paused to ask, before blowing again.

"Indeed it is." With a look of almost-surprise, Spock knuckled his own nose with his index finger, then (with an agility Pike wouldn't have expected from a century-and-a-half-plus-year-old, Jesus Christ) darted a hand over to bring a tissue to the quivering, suddenly green-flushed nostrils. "Hh'hrhshh!" he half-stifled into the tissue. "H'krshh!"

"You, too?" Pike groaned, and sat up the rest of the way. "Dammit."

Spock looked as though he was about to reply, but another sneeze took hold of him before he could say anything. "Huh...ha'r'USChu!"

"Bless you." Now it was Pike's turn to touch Spock's forehead. "Is this normal, or are you warmer than your usual insane heat? And be honest - I know you can tell. That brain of yours probably has a thermometer section." He smiled a little at the thought. "Swiss Army Spock."

"I find your attempt at humor highly illogical," Spock said dryly, but his eyes were sparkling again. Those beautiful human eyes. "My bodily temperature has risen approximately one half of a degree Celsius from its norm. However, this cold appears to have manifested in a significant irritation of the nostrils." He knuckled his nose again. "It is rather uncomfortable."

"Damn skippy." Pike gently rubbed a thumb along the side of Spock's nose, which began to twitch again at his ministrations. "C'mon, let it out. You'll feel a lot better after you sneeze, I promise."

"I m-may," Spock said, his breath hitching and his eyes squeezing closed, "take you at y-your word," and then he was sneezing again, a great wrenching "Huh'HAHschuu! Eh'huhschah! Ah...ah'r'HASCHu!" that seemed to leave him drained - his breathing was heavy in a way that worried Pike. The man was, after all, three times his age. At least.

"You okay?" he asked, and placed a hand on Spock's back. "Those were big."

"I am well enough." Spock's voice was thinner than its usual sonorous tones, but at least he was talking - Pike would count his blessings. "I thank you for aiding me."

"No problem." Pike grabbed a few more tissues and gave them to Spock, whose nose was running in a rather un-Vulcan-dignified way. "Get that out. And I'm cancelling my classes for the day."

"You are no longer very ill," Spock said, raising an eyebrow.

"No." Pike kissed his forehead. "But you are."

[Masking]

Heads up, you guys - this bit takes place back at the Academy, pre-movie. Kirk/Bones if you squint, I guess - this was before he met Spock, after all. Many thanks to Spoo for squee-ing over the idea with me.

- - - - -

"Huh'aeschhu!" Kirk sneezed, pitching forward and misting the screen of his PADD with spray. "Aw, shit!" He scrubbed at the droplets with his sleeve, sniffled, and went back to reading. A guy could only take so much sneezing, even if it was fall break and no one was around to hear him, and even if he did enjoy other people's sneezes. His head was starting to hurt like a son of a bitbucket, too. Just great.

The swish of the dorm-room door opening alerted Kirk to the fact that his roommate was back in. "Not out tonight?" McCoy remarked as he stepped inside. "I thought y'all would have plans." He snorted and raised an eyebrow in Kirk's general direction. "With some girl, no doubt."

Kirk raised an eyebrow in response, and smirked. "Bite me."

"Make me."

"Real mature, Bones. Thought you'd be off in some bar, drowning your sorrows."

"Not on break, I ain't. Get your facts right." McCoy sank down on his bed with a rather undignified flop to his stance, pulled out his own PADD, and typed something into it. "Damn clinic scheduled me all through break. Not like I got anyplace to go, anyhow."

"That's probably why they scheduled you, Bones," Kirk pointed out, and wrinkled his nose, bringing his hand up to palm at the itch.

"Allergies again, Jim?"

"Yeah." The less Bones knows, the better, Kirk silently argued with himself - at least with the part that wanted to tell McCoy the truth and get grudgingly, grumblingly taken care of. "Allergies again." His nostrils flared and he ducked his head into his hands for another desperate sneeze. "Eh...heh-heh-hih'ASCHuh!"

"Christ, Jim, you and your sneezes," McCoy grumbled.

Kirk cautiously lifted his head out of his hands, snuffling wetly as he did so. "Yeah, yeah, shut ub, Bodes," he said. "Got ady tissues?"

"Sure - I keep a special box around just for your snot-filled head," McCoy said, and rolled his eyes. "I think I have a travel pack somewhere." He leaned over to open the drawer of his bedside table, in which he rummaged before coming up with a small packet of tissues. "Heads up," he said, and chucked it.

The packet struck the side of Kirk's head and bounced off to land beside him. "Ow," he complained.

"You're a big baby."

Kirk mumbled an Andorian swearword under his breath, fished a couple tissues out of the pack, and loudly blew his nose, coming up out of the paper to see McCoy staring at him. "What?"

"That doesn't sound like an allergy to me," McCoy said. "Too congested. Sure you haven't caught some crap?"

"Lemme alone, Bones," Kirk replied. "I'm fine." Another lie, but who was to know?

[TheCakeIsAlive]

I forgot to comment earlier!

Hmmmm... melikes Pike/Spock prime.

Awesome stories. So lovely to see you update so much!

*still waiting for that sneezy hobgoblin to arrive*

[ID2006]

ohhhhhh... I like where this new one is headed.

[swann_ee_song]

Yay!

That was cute!

I like this roommate Kirk and Bones relationship. =B

[Masking]

@Sigrith: the sneezy hobgoblin belongs to Jim Kirk.

- - - - -

Two hours later, McCoy was in the shower, and Kirk had migrated from his bed to the carpeted floor (it had to be warmer than his sheets - damn thin Starfleet-issue things couldn't warm up a turkey leg), trying to warm his suddenly underheated skin. "God," he muttered, and shifted, pressing his left elbow hard into the floor. "It's too damn cold in here." He scrubbed at his forehead with one forearm, sniffled, and dropped his head so that his cheek was pressed into the carpet.

"Jim," he heard, "what on God's green earth do you think you're doing?"

"'n'y'rbusiness, Bones," Kirk mumbled. "'S'cold in here." He looked up blearily to see McCoy, a towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair off with another towel as he stared down at Kirk's prone body. "Wan' me to move?"

"Well, Jim, y'know, that would be just ducky."

"Not the sarcastic voice, please, Bones," Kirk said, and lifted his heavy head a little ways off the floor so as to be heard. "I'm just...tired." He rubbed his nose into his arm as it began to itch. "Huh'ashhuh!"

"Get up, you big whiner. Don't you know how unhygienic the floor is?" McCoy's hand was warm around Kirk's forearm as he started to lift it - warm enough that Kirk let out a little grunt of disappointment (not to mention a considerable amount of pain) when the doctor dropped his arm with a thunk onto the floor. "Jesus H. Christ!"

"What?"

"You idiot," McCoy told him, "I'm pretty sure you have a fever." Kirk blinked at him. "Don't try to bullshit me, Jim - you're sick."

"It's just cold in here," Kirk insisted, and would have said more, but for the sudden itch in his nose. "H'aschh! Eh'ischheh! Huh'ischhu!"

"Jesus, bless you already." McCoy's voice was warmer than mere irritation now, and as nice as that was, the prospect of being fussed over was annoying. The doctor had a tendency, on occasion, to act like a mother - not the kind of mother that was always away on Starfleet missions and left her kids with an ass of a stepfather, but the kind that made you soup and said "Oy gevalt, boychik." (Mrs. Steinberg down the road had always let Kirk come over when Frank got too drunk.) "Of all the times to get sick."

"Yeah, when no one's here." Kirk rolled over a little and snuffled, wiping his nose on his arm. He couldn't be bothered to get a tissue - not when the floor was so comfortable. "It's just a cold - I -" he paused to cough, deep and chesty. "Ow."

"'Just a cold', my ass," McCoy said. "Come on, Jim, get up. I need to look at you."

"That's what she said," Kirk replied, sluggishly getting to his knees and then to his feet, shivering all the while. "Geddit?"

"You're ridiculous." McCoy made an expression that Kirk dimly realized was a parody of his own smirk, then leaned forward and palmed Kirk's forehead. "Yeah, that's too hot. I'll have to get my tricorder to be sure, but you're running a damn fever. Looks like the flu."

Kirk nodded, then brought his arm up to sneeze into it. "Ah'ishhu!"

"Bless. Now come on, you need to get warm," McCoy told him, placing a hand on his shoulder - probably to steer him in the direction of someplace with a hypo therein. "Have to take you to the clinic if it gets worse, but you need rest, you got that?"

"My bed's not warm," Kirk protested.

McCoy snorted. "Mine is, y'idiot. I got extra blankets - now get in before you freeze or sweat to death, or something ridiculous." Hand still in a vice grip on Kirk's shoulder, he led him to his own bed and pulled the covers back. "Get on in there."

"That's what -"

"If you say 'That's what she said', I'm gonna kick your ass," McCoy told him. "How old are you, twelve?"

"Twenty-two*." Kirk rolled his eyes and got under the covers, bringing his hands to his nose in time to catch another little fit. "Eh'ischh! H'eshhu! Hh'eh'ESCHah!"

"Why I'm letting you germ up my bed, I'll never know," McCoy muttered. "Now you stay put, y'hear? I'm goin' to get more tissues. God knows you're gonna need 'em."

Kirk just nodded again and closed his eyes.

- - - - -

*This takes place at the beginning of their Academy days, so he's twenty-two, not twenty-five.

[ID2006]

*does little happy dance

I'm so glad there's more

[TheCakeIsAlive]

Darn it. *sneaks off to Sheldon from the Big Bang Theory and asks him to kindly clone one for her.

And YAY, more updates!

[Masking]

"Jim?" The door to the dorm room opened and McCoy walked in, a bag swinging from one hand. "You still awake?"

"Mmh," came the answering mumble from his bed. Kirk was curled up into the blankets, his face nuzzled into McCoy's pillow. "Sorta. W'sup?"

"Got you tissues and some other shit," McCoy told him, and went to sit down on the edge of the bed. "Picked up my tricorder, too - let's see how crappy you're feelin'." He took out said tricorder and switched it on, then waved it over Kirk's face. "Yep, I was right. It's the flu."

"C'grats." Kirk's hand swung out to rub at his furiously red nose, which was twitching around the nostrils. "Jeez, B-Bones, I gotta - unnh, god...eh...ah'mkshhuh!" He turned his face down just in time to direct a sneeze into the pillow, his arms coming up to cradle it to him as more sneezes erupted. "Hah...huh-ah'yschh! Eh'hahsch! H'kschh! H'kschh! H'kschh!"

"Aw, dammit, Jim, no," McCoy groaned, softly striking his forehead with his palm. "Don't do that."

Kirk lifted his face out of the pillow and looked up at McCoy, eyes watering and nose twitching. "S-sorry, I...I...hhuh...heh'IESCHHuh!" The last sneeze rocked him forward, spraying the air in front of him. "Wasd't idtedtiodal," he muttered stuffily, wiping at his nose with one hand and sniffling - although he was congested enough that it came out as a thick gurgle. "Urgh."

"Need a tissue?" McCoy asked, even though it was obvious - damn nose of his was running worse than it ever had. Kirk nodded. "Right." He opened one of the boxes he'd bought and pulled out a few squares - then, noting Kirk's noodle-like limbs and closed eyes, brought them to his friend's nose and wiped it for him.

"Hh...hih-hih'eschuu!" Kirk convulsed with a desperate sneeze into the tissues, dampening McCoy's fingers through the paper. "God, Bodes, I'b sorry."

McCoy made a face and quickly dropped the tissues, reaching into the box for two clean ones. "You, Jim, are disgusting," he informed Kirk, without malice. "Good thing I'm a doctor, 'cause ain't nobody else gonna put up with this."

Kirk struggled, very suddenly, into a half-sitting position and held up a finger. "H-hold od, Bodes," he gasped. "Id still t-tickles...hhih...hh!" His nostrils flared out and he blinked hard, rubbing his nose upwards with one hand. "Huhh...hh...goddabbid," he said. "Wod't cobe out. Hold od." He glanced up at the ceiling light, his eyelashes beginning to flutter. "Ehh...huh-huuhh-ASCHu!" he exploded into a powerful sneeze. "Y'eschh! H'eshhuh! Ah...ah'hischh!"

"Jesus Christ, Jim, you done?" McCoy inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I thigk," Kirk replied with a snuffle. "Deeded to look at the light."

"And Cadet Obvious points out another amazing discovery," McCoy said, sotto voce, and held the clean tissues to Kirk's runny nose. "Go on and blow."

Kirk closed his eyes and leaned forward into the tissues, making a sound through his blocked nose that sounded very ineffective and (judging by his face) fairly uncomfortable. "Nngh," he muttered. "Doesd't work with both sides ad odce. Give be those." He took the tissues out of McCoy's hand and pressed them again to his nose, blocking off one nostril and blowing again, loudly, before switching to the other side. "Yeah, it works." He lowered the tissues, giving McCoy a good glimpse of his raw, red nostrils.

"Well, damn, the man knows some personal hygiene."

"You think twenty-two years of allergies taught me nothing?" Kirk's voice was clearer now, a bit less congested after the fit.

McCoy snorted. "Wouldn't be surprised, Jim. Wouldn't be surprised."

[RSB]

I love these drabbles so much! I've re-read all of them at least once. You are an awesome writer!!!!!!!!