Merry Christmas inell!

[bluegeek]

inell gave the following prompt: Kirk, McCoy - mistletoe for my holiday card exchange. Breathe easy: I swear, this is the last mistletoe-related fic I'm going to write! (...we all know I'm lying, right? Yeah, even I have to admit it.)


Add It To The List

When he woke up in Sickbay, Jim opened his eyes to a sprig of mistletoe hanging above his biobed. He blinked at it slowly for a moment before the memory of his previous mistletoe-related troubles rushed back to him. Stiffening, he unsuccessfully tried to scramble off the biobed, hampered by the blankets that someone had kindly, and apparently murderously, piled atop him.

Before he could panic further, however, a blue-clad arm reached out and pressed him back against the bed. Worn-out as he was, he found himself unable to offer much of a fight.

″Relax, Jim. It's plastic.″ The voice belonged to Bones, who was sitting in a chair near the biobed. There was a stack of PADDS sat on a nearby counter. Okay, it's only Bones. Probably not trying to kill him then. Well, at least not until he's feeling less like he'd been run over by a shuttle.

″So it's just there to torture me, then?″ Jim grimaced at the harshness of his voice and coughed, trying to clear his throat.

Bones helped him to sit up enough to sip at a glass of water he'd held ready. ″To serve as a reminder to check out unknown alien plants before gleefully decorating my quarters and yourself with them. I don't care if they 'looked cool' when you collected them on the planet. From here on out this is the only mistletoe that is going to be allowed within ten feet of your ridiculously delicate immune system, alright?″ Bones' voice was, amazingly enough, tinged with amusement rather than the expected scorn or anger, and Jim risked another glance over at him.

″Can't argue with that at the moment, can I?″

″Not really. Doesn't usually stop you, though.″ Again, Jim mused, more amusement than irritation. Maybe he'd died and was now in some sort of weird-ass, rant-less afterlife?

″So, I'm apparently allergic to alien mistletoe now?″

″At least the form of it that Botany now has possession of. They've already received a lecture from me and a strongly worded memo from Spock.″ Bones sighed. ″As soon as you started to wheeze I gave you the usual concoction and brought you to Sickbay. You've mostly slept off the medication at this point, but, as you know, you'll be a bit unsteady on your pins for a few hours, so try to take it easy, okay?″

″You got it, Bones. Thanks.″ Jim frowned. ″Great way to kill the mood, huh?″

Bones snorted. ″It certainly didn't help, I tell you that.″ He stood up and ran a finger over the readings on the biobed's monitor, before plucking a fake berry from the mistletoe above the bed. ″You'll make it up to me, though.″ At Jim's admittedly-devilish grin, he hastened to add, ″Tomorrow. You'll make it up to me tomorrow. For now, we'll stick to this.″

Bones grinned and then, right there in the middle of Sickbay, leaned down to press a soft kiss to Jim's lips.

***

Note: Sorry for the lateness! I suck phenomenally at deadlines. Just ask poor weepingnaiad who still hasn't received her fic from last MARCH. *sad panda*

Comments

[inell.livejournal.com]

Awww! Thank you!

[exiled-mind.livejournal.com]

You're welcome! How could I resist more mistletoe? I seem to be an addict.

[weepingnaiad.livejournal.com]

AWWWW. Poor Jim! He was just trying to enhance the mood. Love how calm and collected Bones was. He's obviously gotten the routine down.

And don't worry about me, bb! I'm still here. :D

[exiled-mind.livejournal.com]

Desensitization therapy, I suppose ;)

It will get written.... eventually. The CD the song is from is still on my most-played list, so...

(also, I stared at your gorgeous icon for a ridiculously long time. Yum!)