Jim burst into McCoy's office, fully aware of the wide-eyed crazed look he was sporting – while an empty sickbay was always something to be glad of, Jim found himself especially grateful today – and blurted out, "I'm in love with Spock."

McCoy did not react like Jim expected, with copious swearing and liquor. Instead he set aside the PADD he was working on and picked up another one sitting next to it, fiddling around with it and just generally ignoring Jim. Jim waited in silence for an hour of agony, which was something like seven seconds in real time, before stalking across to collapse in the chair in front of McCoy's desk and saying, irritated, "Anytime you want to join me here in my existential crisis, Bones."

That got McCoy's attention enough for him to glance up at Jim, before turning back at his PADD. "I'm just looking for the record function on this thing. That Russian midget is never going to pay up his end of the bet if I don't offer him proof."

Jim took a couple of seconds to process that when his initial interpretation didn't make any sense, then a couple more when he still came up with the same answer. "You and Chekov have not been betting on my feelings." Not little, angel-faced, teenaged (well, technically Chekov had turned 20 just last month, but he'd always be a teenager to Jim) Chekov.

"Course not," McCoy said with a snort. Jim felt a brief moment of relief, but McCoy kept right on talking. "No one's stupid enough to take that bet. The actual bet was on when you'd pull your head out of your ass long enough to realize you're head over heels for the hobgoblin. And it's not just me and Chekov, the whole senior staff, aside from you and Spock, and most of the alpha shift bridge crew are in on it."

"Even Uhura?" As Spock's ex-girlfriend, she had to find it crass, or uncomfortable, right? But McCoy nodded in confirmation, leading Jim to slump down into his chair. "I'm not sure if I'm more shocked that you would do that, or that I didn't see it coming."

"Definitely the latter," McCoy opinioned. Yeah, that sounded about right.

"Fine, I don't need you guys anyway. From now on Spock, Rand, and Hendorff are my best friends."

"That's right," McCoy said with a snap of his fingers. "Rand and Barrows are in on it too. I knew I was forgetting someone."

"Just Spock and Hendorff, then," Jim said with a frown.

McCoy raised an eyebrow at him before returning to his PADD. "Well, if you want to be besties with the two people on this ship who've beat the crap out of you, then don't let me stop you." Jim's frown deepened, but McCoy didn't notice, too busy finally finding the PADD's record function (seriously, Bones was such an old man sometimes). McCoy's PADD was then shoved into Jim's face and Jim was prompted to, "Just repeat that bit about figuring out you're in love with Spock."

Jim pushed the PADD away, rolling his eyes. "I didn't just figure it out; I'm not a complete moron. I've known how I feel about Spock for forever, since you brought me back from the dead as a zombie."

McCoy eyed Jim. "One, you were only ever mostly dead, and you are not now nor have you ever been a zombie. Two, after this conversation we're going back to pretending that you only figured it out just now, because there's a big pile of credits riding on it calling my name me. And three, if you've known about this for almost two years, why the hell are you only coming to me in a panic now?"

Jim looked away and mumbled, "Well, if I loved him less, I might be able to talk about it more."

McCoy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Jim, you know you're my best friend."

"Certain bets notwithstanding, yes."

"And you know I care about you and support your life choices."

"You complain about my life choices every damn day," Jim objected.

"I support the life choices that won't eventually get you killed," corrected McCoy.

"So, that's none of them."

McCoy looked like he wanted to hit Jim, or maybe whip out a hypospray to use on him, so Jim tossed him his best grin. McCoy sighed and rolled his eyes before continuing. "The point is, I want you to know it's coming from a place of love when I tell you, that is the gayest thing you've ever said."

"It's a Jane Austen quote!"

"I stand corrected," McCoy said. "It's even gayer." Now Jim kind of felt like hitting McCoy, but still wary of the possibility of a hidden hypospray, he settled for scowling at the man (scowling, definitely not pouting). McCoy, defenseless against Jim's scowl-not-a-pout, thankfully changed the subject. "Okay, so your love is so sacred and eternal and snow-driven pure you dared not speak of it before. That still doesn't explain why you're here now."

"Because I was playing chess with Spock a few minutes ago when he touched my hand." McCoy looked at Jim blankly. "Okay, I know it doesn't sound like a big deal, but Spock is a Vulcan, so it kind of is. Besides, you weren't there; you didn't see the look in his eyes. Spock's totally in love with me, Bones, and he knows it."

"Of course he's in love with you! I've known that since our unemotional, logical, pacifist First Officer went batshit and tried to beat a man to death for almost killing you. Why the hell do you think Uhura broke up with him?" Fair point, but Jim honestly hadn't thought about that at all. He never really understood the whole Spock-Uhura relationship in the first place, plus thinking about it gave Jim a weird feeling (not jealousy; Jim Kirk did not do jealousy) so he tried to avoid doing so whenever possible.

When Jim didn't answer McCoy's question except for a half-hearted shrug, McCoy continued, "Alright, so you love him and he loves you and the two of you can hare off and explore the galaxy as space husbands, or whatever. I'm not seeing the downside here, Jim."

"The downside is that I have a plan, and Spock is ruining it."

"You have a plan," McCoy said, with way more skepticism than necessary. Okay, slightly more skepticism than necessary.

"Yes, I have a plan, a good plan. I spend the rest of this mission and the next one completely in love with Spock. But Spock doesn't know that I love him, or that he love me back, and we spend the time as best friends who are closer to each other than anyone else in the universe. Also, I take advantage of Spock's ignorance of the romantic portion of our relationship to sow my wild oats and shit. At the end of that, I finally tell Spock the truth and he has a Vulcan style freak-out, running off to attempt kolinahr. After three years of that, he'll realize I'm way too awesome to emotionally purge, so he'll come back and apologize and admit he loves me too. And then we'll 'hare off and explore the galaxy as space husbands, or whatever.'"

"That is an oddly specific plan," said McCoy, with way more suspicion than necessary. Slightly more suspicion than necessary. A fully justified amount of suspicion.

"Dying really does a great job of knocking things loose in your brain," Jim told him, tapping his head for emphasis. "And, as it turns out, Old Spock isn't as great at controlling his mind melds as one might think."

McCoy looked at Jim, blatant horror written in his expression. "Please tell me you haven't been walking around for the past two years with our entire future mapped out in your head."

"Nah," Jim said, "I had pretty much forgotten it all by the time I left the hospital. But I did write the important bits down, just in case. Which, by the way, remind me to pick up a couple of blue whales the next time we're in the 20th century."

McCoy looked at him for a second before shaking his head. "I don't even want to know. And stop trying to distract me."

"I'm not trying to distract you, that really is important. Apparently." Although for the life of him, Jim couldn't remember why.

McCoy just glared at Jim, until Jim felt appropriately cowed. He honestly hadn't been trying to distract McCoy, but he could totally see how that might have been the end result. Completely inadvertently, of course. "What it sounds like to me," McCoy said, once he seemed satisified that Jim's attention was back on the matter at hand, "is that you have every intention of spending the rest of your life with Spock."

"Absolutely," Jim agreed, though truthfully intentions didn't even come into it. He and Spock were an inevitability, like gravity. Except one could get away from gravity, provided they reached escape velocity, and there was no escaping this, so it was really more like a black hole. Which meant the event horizon was the day they met. Or maybe the day Jim was born. Or maybe the day Spock was born, because Spock was older and Jim would hate to think there was a possibility of a universe were there was a Spock, but there was never a Jim. And also Jim wasn't trapped, like a black hole would imply, he wanted this, and wow was this metaphor getting away from him. This is why he left the writing to the experts.

"But you want to wait to start a romantic relationship until after you have a chance to 'sow your wild oats and shit?'" McCoy continued.

"Yes," said Jim, with somewhat less conviction this time.

"That is some grade A bullshit," McCoy said. "You don't want to sow any wild oats; you hate one-night stands. You're a serial monogamist if I've ever met one."

"Serial monogamist? I've never had a serious relationship in my life!" Jim objected.

"So you're a serial monogamist with a fear of commitment," said McCoy with a shrug.

"Isn't that a contradiction in terms?"

"Yep. That's why it meshes so well with the rest of your personality." Jim responded to that like a mature and seasoned starship captain he was… by sticking out his tongue. McCoy fixed him with his 'why am I friends with this idiot' expression before subsiding into something more serious. "Look, God knows you've got reasons to be wary of commitment, and I'm sure you haven't even told me the half of it."

"More like two-thirds," Jim offered, which earned him a small smile from McCoy.

"So I understand why you wouldn't want to rush into anything with Spock. You're not old enough for any kind of permanent commitment anyway."

"I'm twenty-eight, not eighteen," Jim said.

"Both of which are less than thirty, which is too damn young for marriage," McCoy said sternly, practically wagging a finger in Jim's direction. Such an old man. "But no one says that you have to walk out of here and hitch your wagon to Spock permanently today."

"Exactly," Jim said. "That's why the plan is to wait until the end of our second five year mission."

"And if he gets tired of waiting for you and moves on to someone else?" That couldn't happen and it wouldn't happen, but just the suggestion made something dark and unpleasant uncurl in Jim's gut. "I thought that might get your attention. You've got to remember, there's a lot of differences between this timeline and that one. And you'd be a damn fool if you let something great pass you by just because of some conviction you have in a false future."

"But what if…" But Jim didn't even know, 'what if' he was worrying about. He just knew that he was supposed to have years to get used to this whole thing and all the sudden he was supposed to just jump into it? Sure, he had been recruited to Starfleet for his knack of leaping in where angels have feared to boldly go before (or something like that. His recollection of that particular night was not the best), but this shit was scary.

"Look Jim, you know how I feel about that green-blooded bastard" – Bones for 'he's my second best friend in the world after you, Jim' – "but I've seen the two of you together, and I think you'd be good for each other. He makes you…"

"Happy?" Jim suggested.

"Content. I've never seen you so complete and at peace with yourself as when you're around him."

"Hold up a moment," Jim said. "I may love Spock, and may want him" – God did he want him – "and he may be the stoic and slightly socially inept Mr. Darcy to my kick-ass Elizabeth Bennet" – and he was never going to live that one down – "but I don't need him to complete me. This is not a romantic comedy and I'm not a spunky career-minded girl who needs some guy's dick to remind her how to have fun."

"Of course you aren't," McCoy said, standing up. "Spock's the stoic career-minded man that needs to be reminded how to have fun, and you are his manic pixie dream girl." Then he crossed the room, ruffled Jim's hair, and then exited his office. Not because he was needed in the empty sickbay, but because, despite being a fully grown man, McCoy was a prissy little drama queen and knew how to make an exit.

"That's insubordination!" Jim called out. There had to be something in the regs about petting your superior officer's head. "I'm firing your ass and making M'Benga my CMO."

"No you're not," McCoy shouted back. And, no offense to M'Benga, he really wasn't. God damn it.

Jim dropped his head on McCoy's desk with a thunk and tried to figure out how this was his life. "Stop being a prissy little drama queen, Jim!"

God damn it.