Gravity

K/S

This is a story about Kirk and Spock. Beginning directly after the movie, it follows them from hate all the way to love.

I've been writing K/S for a while now, but I usually start them some time after their meeting. One day I realised: it would be a challenge to start it out right after the movie, when they don't like each other. So sit back and enjoy, Kirk and Spock from hate - ambivalence - friendship - love. Warning you right now, this will be a LONG story.

This is a re-edited version. I noticed several mistakes in the old story, and when writing more of it, I also changed every chapter. Please enjoy!

Chapter One

Jim was tired. Very tired. He thought that might be justified, given that he had just skipped a night of sleep to instead be injected with vaccines, to have severe allergic reactions to said vaccinations, to space jump down onto a giant drill, to fight a couple of Romulans on said drill – while suffering from the thin atmosphere -, to freefall without a chute, to fight with his acting Captain, get nerve pinched, walk ten kilometres in freezing snow and ice, to run another kilometre, a scary monster on his heels. He'd gotten a mind-whack from an old guy calling himself Spock, then gone off to do some more walking, then some running in Engineering when his companion was being sucked through the water coolant system, to pick a fight with that acting Captain again, and this time to get the shit kicked out of him and to nearly get strangled to death. Then it was off to the Narada, where he got to participate in an all-out gunfight. There was some more running through the ship, and then getting beaten up (and being strangled again) by first Nero and then Ayel. More running, saving Pike, back to the ship, blowing up Nero, nearly getting sucked into a black hole and having to save themselves by detonating vital parts of the Enterprise.

So...yes. He was tired.

But there was no rest for the wicked, he was coming to realise. It took a few hours for the Enterprise to limp back to the nearest Starbase on impulse power alone. Following that, it was another couple of hours being towed back to Earth so that they could dock at the Space Station there. That time was spent in the Captain's chair, desperately fighting fatigue as the adrenaline began to wear off. There were things to do. Medical was full. Bones had practically screamed at him when he'd asked for a progress report some time ago. He hadn't called again. There were radiation leaks, breaches of hull in the lower decks. Starfleet needed to be called. That was a fun conversation.

Everyone else was slowing down as well. Everyone except Spock, who, when he had inquired, had informed him tartly that Vulcans required less sleep than humans, and so he was still quite easily within limits in terms of normal waking hours. Jim had just nodded and sent him on his way. He was trying not to antagonize Spock. There was a good chance that if the man hit him again, Jim would just pass out straight away, and that was no good. Not antagonizing Spock meant not talking to him, despite being curious about him after meeting his future self. That could wait until they were safely back on Earth, once Jim had been discharged and everything sorted out.

He huffed a quiet sigh of relief as they finally docked at the Space port. He announced to the entire crew what he had been told. Everyone was to exit the ship, beginning with all injured parties in the medical bay. They would be returned to Starfleet Academy and were instructed to tend to their own business ("get some sleep," was his suggestion) until they were contacted with more information. They could expect hearings and investigations for some time, while Starfleet tried to sort out this entire mess.

Before he signed off, he added something, knowing that this would be his last chance to be a Captain of a Starship. He had dreamed of being a Captain for the last three years of his life. More than dreamed...he had lived to be a Captain. He wasn't going to get the chance again, "I know we're damaged. I know people died, and that many more were hurt. I know we didn't save Vulcan, and I know that I'm not your real Captain." His voice echoed through the hallways of the Enterprise, and he felt the eyes of the bridge crew beginning to turn to him, "But no matter what anyone says to you, whether it's a civilian or a Starfleet official, you are all worthy of commendation. We didn't save everyone, but we saved Earth. We saved the Federation. You all did your best, and that's all any Captain could ask. Thank you, crew of the Enterprise," he paused, "Captain Kirk out."

He flicked off the intercom and stood, addressing the bridge crew who were all looking at him, "That goes for you lot as well. Now get off this ship."

He managed to stay awake through the process of removing the crew from the Enterprise. The Captain left the ship last. Spock stayed with him, although they did not talk. The Vulcan quietly kept everything running smoothly, directing people to the appropriate shuttles, making sure that all of them were fit for use and had not been damaged in battle. Jim stood there, arms behind his back, boots planted to the floor. He nodded to passing crewmembers – he didn't have much energy to do anything else.

Finally, "Captain," said Spock in his even voice. It took Jim a moment to remember that that meant him and turned to him. "We are leaving on the final shuttle," he said, gesturing slowly to the nearby entrance. Without a word, Jim made his way inside, ignoring the murmuring amongst the exhausted crew. As the Captain, he now sat at the front, and collapsed heavily into the first seat he saw, buckling up. Spock sat gracefully beside him. The only free seat left, Jim noticed. Oh well, nothing to be done about it. It wasn't like Spock was about to turn and break his neck. In fact, he had seemed downright friendly in the last couple of hours.

Anyway, he was too tired to worry about Spock.

In fact, as it turned out, he really was too tired to worry about him, because he fell asleep somewhere between the space dock and hanger one back at Starfleet. He awoke to the harsh, tinny, automated voice of the shuttle telling him that arrival was estimated in five minutes. He looked around blearily, confused. Spock wasn't returning his gaze, staring placidly forward at nothing in particular.

Awkwardly, he shifted up in his seat, surreptitiously wiping his face in case he had drooled in his sleep (as he was wont to do). Spock didn't react, didn't even glance at him. They landed and disembarked, Jim only too happy to get away from the intensely quiet Vulcan. He was looking forward to some sleep. Sadly, that wasn't about to happen, as he and Spock were met in the hangar by a grim-looking man dressed in black.

"Cadet Kirk and Commander Spock, Admiral Bartlett requests your presence for an immediate de-briefing. Please come with me."

It wasn't unexpected. Of course the Admiralty would want to speak to them, to make sure that there weren't any imminent threats to the Federation. He hoped it wouldn't last long though, as he followed the Commander through hallways and across buildings. He was tired.

Jim sank gratefully into the chair in the Admiral's office, rather alarmed at how comfortable it was. It was going to be tough keeping his eyes open. Spock managed to sit in his chair in a curious mixture of grace and tension. It was bizarre, and made it totally impossible for Jim to decide whether he looked awkward or comfortable here in the office. Admiral Bartlett was looking at them, eyes focusing on Jim's face in slight alarm. Belatedly Jim realised that although he had cleaned the blood from his face, the bruises were probably setting in now. He tried to catalogue where the marks might be (across the left eye, the right temple, his chin, his neck....), and realised that Spock and the Admiral had already begun talking.

He was quite happy to let Spock do all the speaking, which he did, dispassionately. He spelled out the current situation, not elaborating much on the actual events of the last day or so. They all knew there would be plenty of hearings for that. Probably a good thing, since Jim didn't feel up to defending his terrible behaviour right at the moment. Defending yourself against charges of mutiny was something to be done after you've slept a little bit. He nodded at appropriate places in the story, but all-in-all was probably more dead than alive at this point.

When, finally, they were done, Jim and Spock exited the office, standing in awkward silence for a moment. He looked at the Vulcan, who appeared typically passive, although Jim knew he was not. It only seemed right to say something before they parted. "Thank you," is all he could think of to say and he did so sincerely. Spock frowned ever so slightly. He wouldn't have even noticed if he hadn't been expecting it. Instead of giving him a chance to respond, Jim turned on his heel and marched away, hoping that he was at least heading in the general direction for his quarters.

He stumbled into his room, abruptly remembering that his roommate was dead when he looked at the divided space. His roommate's white sheeted bed stared at Jim from across the room, his personal items scattered across his desk, his dirty clothes in a heap at the foot of his bed. Jim wavered where he stood, nearly toppling over. He didn't. He took the six steps to his own bed, red duvet beckoning to him, and fell over forwards. His head hit the pillow and he knew no more.

The next time he was awake, it was when an insistent buzzing from his communication unit would not leave him alone. Groggily he cracked open an eye, feeling dirty and uncomfortable. He realised he had fallen asleep in all of his clothes, his feet still trapped in his boots. Rolling off his bed, he hit the floor with a thump, getting to his feet and staggering over to the comm. unit. He had hit "accept" before he had thought about his appearance, and so when Bones appeared on the screen, his eyebrows did something complicated before he practically shrieked, "Jim, what's wrong with you?! Why haven't you gone to Medical?!"

"I'm really tempted to just hang up and go back to bed," replied Jim, looking around for his clock. Apparently he'd been asleep for fourteen hours, but he sure didn't feel like it.

Bones snorted, "Yeah, well, you can't. You have to get up and get ready."

"What for?" he groaned, rubbing his face with the heel of his hand.

"You're coming out with me."

Going out with Bones meant finding a seedy bar, getting completely smashed, starting a fight (that was usually Jim), and then eventually splitting up when Bones passed out or Jim hooked up with a girl at the bar. Jim wasn't sure if he was up to that right now, but apparently Bones was set on the idea, and he wasn't getting out of it. Refusal could mean...vaccinations.

So he threw himself under the shower, soaking in steaming hot water, revelling in the feeling of the drips rolling down off his shoulders, trailing down to his feet. He stayed in there until his door chime began buzzing frantically. Only one person it could be, so he wrapped himself in his big fluffy towel, shivering as his skin hit the cool air of his room. He let Bones in, and the man barely gave him a chance to say hello before he was shining a light in his eyes and fussing over the black bruising on his temple and chin.

"God damn it, Bones, I'm not even dressed, get off me!"

"Jim, you brought this on yourself! When will you learn that your health is important, damn it? If you don't visit the fucking med-bay, you're going to continue getting me barging into your room, shining lights into your eyes." He pushed Jim over to sit on his bed, gently feeling around his face and examining the injuries with the portable tri-corder, "Jim, you got a concussion from this hit here," he tapped his temple. Jim vaguely remembered being smashed in the face there by Ayel's phaser. Now that Bones mentioned it, it didn't surprise him to learn it had been a concussion. He had gone down pretty hard from that hit. He remembered struggling to think, confused, disoriented, frightened as Nero picked him up again and he couldn't get away.

"You numbskull," Bones was saying, and he snapped out of it, "You know you're not supposed to just wander off and go to sleep with a concussion. I've lectured you on this one before."

"I like to keep you on your toes," he replied, trying not to look at the empty bed on the opposite side of the room. Paul should be sitting there on the bed, laughing at Jim being accosted by his best friend. He had always found Bones hilarious. But he was dead now. Jim wondered when his family would be by to take his personal possessions. When would he get a new roommate? Then he remembered that he was due to be dismissed any day now for mutiny, disobeying orders, putting people in danger. It was now just waiting for the axe to fall.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do once he got dismissed. He wasn't going to go back to Iowa, that was for damn sure. Maybe he should stay in San Francisco. He was already here, he knew people here, and he could just get a job somewhere in the city. But...then he'd have to be constantly reminded of the chance he blew, the life he had dreamed of. Bones was snapping his fingers in front of Jim's face, so he asked him, "What?"

"Stop zoning out. It's freaking me out – it's not a good combination with your head injuries. Jim, why didn't you go to Medical?"

"Didn't even think of it," he replied, and that was true, "Can I get dressed now?"

"Are you injured anywhere else?" demanded Bones, and damn it, Jim was injured elsewhere, but he wasn't going to put up with this non-consensual examination here in his room while he was still naked from his shower. He wrapped his towel more tightly around himself, "No," he replied.

His friend didn't look convinced but waved him off, instructing him to get dressed. "And you promise me you'll go in for a check up ASAP?"

"Yeah, yeah," he yelled back from where his head was buried in his closet, looking through clothes. Eventually he settled on a black t-shirt and blue jeans, perfectly non-descript, as he really didn't want to be noticed today. If he had his way, he'd spend his day sleeping and hiding out here in his room. Obviously Bones was sent down by some sort of deity as a punishment for his misdeeds. He got dressed in the bathroom, and looked at his bruised and swollen face as he brushed his teeth. He really did look awful. Still, maybe some chicks would be impressed by his battle scars.

One can only hope that that was the only attention he'd get today, he told himself as he returned to the main room to face the music. Bones, ever interfering, had had the audacity to make his bed and was now sitting on it. He looked tired too, Jim noted. He probably didn't get any sleep until he was back on Earth either. More than likely, he had been dashing around trying to heal every patient single-handedly right up until he had been ordered out of the campus facilities. Unfortunately it meant that now that Bones had had sufficient resting time, he was going to be bothering Jim instead of some other, needier patient.

Oh well.

The bane of his existence stood when he saw him, gesturing him out the door and then closing it behind them. "Where are we going?" asked Jim, honestly too tired to care.

"You'll see," said Bones. He didn't sound as if he were hiding something exciting, merely like he couldn't be bothered to explain and that annoyed Jim. He didn't say anything though, opting instead to be silent, despite all the curious looks being sent his way as they walked through the halls. He was surprised when Bones stopped them at one of the mess halls, practically pushing him through the doors. He had been expecting a bar, not a cafeteria. "What time is it?" he asked Bones, suddenly confused.

"Nine," said Bones and abruptly Jim realised that it was nine in the morning and also that he was starving.

"When did you last eat?" demanded his doctor, scowling at his confused face.

"Uhh....I ate lunch with you after the Kobayashi Maru, remember? And you kept trying to get me to tell you how I managed to pass it?"

"What's wrong with you?" Bones threw him into a chair. His ribs protested that. "It's all, oh, I'll just get beaten until I can't move. Oh, maybe I just won't eat for 32 hours. Oh, perhaps I'll whine and complain while my best friend Leonard tries to make sure I don't kill myself!"

He stalked off towards where the food was. Jim didn't move, knew he'd get an earful if he got up and tried to get his own breakfast. Such was the life of a delinquent cadet with a doctor for a best friend. He sighed and rested his chin on his knuckles, trying to avoid the looks of the cadets nearby. He had the feeling that odd looks were probably going to be following him around for the next little while.

Jim jumped when a tray was slapped down on the table in front of him, orange juice sloshing out of the glass from the force of it. Orange juice and water stood in tall glasses beside a bowl of fruit, a bowl of cereal and a plate containing a thick stack of pancakes. Syrup was being waved in front of his face and he grabbed at it as Bones slumped into the seat opposite him. "When did you last eat, Bones? You can't lecture me on not eating. I seem to remember a certain doctor who would regularly forget his meals during exams."

Bones snorted and stirred cream into his coffee, then hunting for salt to put on his eggs, "Well, right now I'm fussing over you. You just got the ever living shit smacked out of you. Eat your pancakes, Jim."

He smiled and did so, ignoring Bones whining at him about how too much syrup is unhealthy.

As it turned out, his first hearing was the next afternoon. It went pretty well. He just sat in a room facing a line of people and answered their questions. He gave his account of everything that had happened, hoping that he hadn't left anything out. All in all, it took several hours, and he was thankful when they finally dismissed him, wandering outside into the sunshine and fresh air. He sat on the grass, watching as the sky slowly changed from blue to pink.

"Kirk," said a voice and he jumped, looking up. Uhura stood some feet away, looking down at him with kind eyes, "What are you doing out here?"

"Just thinking," he said, shifting his legs and then gesturing up to the sky, "Watching the sun set."

"How poetic," she laughed, sitting down next to him, "Didn't know you had it in you."

Unable to resist, he shot back, "I've had plenty of stuff in me." Uhura made a disgusted face but didn't leave, relaxing into a smile and leaning back on the grass next to him.

"So," he said, after a few minutes of comfortable silence, "How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," Uhura looked sad then, tilting her head so that her lovely long hair spilled over her shoulders, "It's quiet here now though. So many people are gone."

"Yeah," he agreed, thinking of Uhura's roommate, Gaila. She was gone. He had really liked her. She had been fun, had accepted him and made him feel wanted. She had said she loved him, something that didn't happen often in his life. In time, he thought, he could have loved her too. Now it was never going to happen. Such a waste.

"It's sad," said Uhura, "But it could have been worse. Would have been worse, if you hadn't snuck on board the Enterprise." She sent him a sideways look and he smiled in thanks, even if he didn't feel grateful.

A moment passed, "How's Spock?" he asked, almost without thinking.

"He's fine," sighed Uhura, "Almost too fine, if you know what I mean. Not that I've really had a chance to talk to him, he's been so busy."

"Well, we are busy. I just got out of a ridiculously long hearing myself." He scrubbed a hand through his short blonde hair, "I'm sure you'll be getting called in to give your statement sooner or later."

"Already have," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice, "They called me in this morning. You'll be happy to know that I didn't say anything bad about you, Kirk. You may be a chauvinistic playboy hick, but you're not that bad." She smiled jokingly, but he wasn't really in a laughing sort of mood.

"As long as you told the truth," he said seriously, "I don't want you to get in trouble later if your story doesn't match up with everyone else's."

"Believe me, 'Captain', I speak nothing but the truth."

He snorted and stood up, offering her a hand, which she took, "It's Vulcans that can't lie, my dear communications officer. So," he pulled her to her feet. She managed to be as graceful as always, "you'd better hope your story matches his."

She smirked at him, which Jim supposed was her way of saying "don't worry about it, everything will be fine."

He ate quickly in the mess, unable to avoid the looks and whispering now that he was alone. In fact, several cadets decided to approach him, thanking him and shaking his hand before skittering back to their tables to finish their meals. He practically bolted from the mess hall after the fourth time it happened. It was all very well to revel in attention when you knew you'd done something right and your other friends were surrounding you. Quite another thing when you'd committed mutiny and people you didn't know kept coming up to congratulate you when you were alone. Anyway, he was still really tired.

So he slept. The next morning he had another hearing, much shorter this time with more specific questions. As soon as he was done and stepped outside the much-too-grey room, Bones appeared. Jim suspected he used his magical Jim-sense, because how the doctor always knew when and where to accost him, he would never know. He had Sulu with him this time, and he smiled to see the Asian man. There was something about the shared experience of a suicide mission that brought people together. "Hey Sulu!" he greeted when he saw them.

"Kirk," grinned Sulu, "Done getting grilled?"

"For now," he replied and ignored Bones grumbling about being chopped liver or something, "What are you up to?"

"McCoy and I were just waiting for you."

"Any particular reason?" he fell into line with them, walking in the middle. As always, it felt a little badass to be walking in the middle of a line down a hallway. All they needed was some slow-mo and some epic music, and they'd be all set.

"Well, I don't know about the good Doctor here, but I wanted to tell you about a certain rumour I heard." Sulu looked too happy for this news to be any good. Jim's experience with rumours was that they were rarely true, and they always spread around at the approximate pace of a wildfire. There was no use ever hoping that they wouldn't....because they would. He gestured for Sulu to go on with a wave of his hand and he did so, "It's about you," wow, that was a shock, it wasn't like Jim had ever had a rumour spread about him before, "Apparently they're gonna give you the Enterprise."

"What?" he asked incredulously. Bones started laughing and he couldn't keep the amused grin off his own face.

Sulu leant over, lowering his voice, "I heard that they're going to promote you to Captain and give you the Enterprise."

"Yeah, right," laughed Jim, putting on a deep 'official-sounding' voice, "For the crime of mutiny, we hereby promote you up to Captain and give you our flagship." He rolled his eyes, "Because obviously that's cause enough to skip me past Ensign, Lieutenant, Lieutenant-Commander and Commander and send me straight to Captain. Honestly, Sulu, I think I'm more likely to be discharged."

They were at the mess hall again, clearly part of Bones' sinister plan to keep an eye on what he was eating. The chances were good that he'd insist on getting Jim's food and then bring him something green and/or healthy. Well, at least he could complain to Sulu about it this time. They sat, and the Lieutenant smirked at him, "Would you care to bet on that?"

"You want me to bet on whether I'll be flash-promoted and given the Enterprise? Where did you even get this information from?"

"I have my sources," Sulu tapped the side of his nose, "So, is it a bet?"

"Yeah," smiled Jim, "Okay. 20 Credits."

"Done," laughed Sulu and shook his hand. That moment Jim's tray was slapped down in front of him and sadly, it did contain salad.

"I'm not your servant," grumbled Bones, "I can't believe you just sit down and expect me to get you food."

"If I tried, you would probably sedate me."

Bones grunted.

"Was that agreement?!" Jim asked in horror.

"No," said Bones, "But it does work better when I get your food, because then you don't get fat."

Jim pouted and Sulu laughed before going to get his own meal. The meal passed quickly, Sulu making for great company and Bones providing excellent teasing material. "You know, Sulu," when they all stood to leave, "When I get kicked out, I promise to stay in touch. You're a pretty cool dude."

"You'd better approve my request to stay on board the Enterprise permanently," replied the pilot. Jim remembered then that he had just been substituting for Helmsman McKenna during their mission to Vulcan.

"I promise, in the unlikely event that I become Captain, I will." Sulu mock-saluted him and then left, claiming that he had important things to do, and then denying it when Jim implied that he had important people to do. Jim smiled, "He's a good guy."

"Worth freefalling straight into a planet in my opinion," replied Bones. Jim laughed, but his good mood didn't last long because Bones forced him to go to Medical for a check-up after that, and then proceeded to give him a lengthy lecture on how bruised ribs and stomachs are nothing to take lightly. Jim mostly ignored him.

The next week he was called to Captain Pike's office for a meeting. He showered, put on his uniform, noted with satisfaction that the swelling in his face was starting to go down, although the bruising was still pretty dark. He now looked as if he'd been in a fight the night before, rather than having been beaten around the face with a metal pole the night before. Which was a vast improvement, and very promising given that his pretty face was by far his greatest weapon. He ran his fingers through his still-damp hair and set off across campus in his tight red cadet uniform. He liked this uniform. He looked good in it.

Jim paused outside Captain Pike's door, hand raised to knock. He was suddenly unaccountably nervous. This could be it. They might be having Captain Pike tell him to get the fuck out of the service. It would make sense, as he'd be less likely to go ape-shit if it was someone he looked up to and respected. He knocked loudly, preferring the rap of his knuckles over the impersonal buzz of the doorbell. "Come in," came the reply immediately and he stepped through the sliding door. The room was old fashioned, large wooden desk in the middle of the room, a large bookcase to one side, a large glass cabinet filled with awards on the other. A window stretched behind Pike, who sat behind his desk in his wheelchair.

"Sit down," he offered, gesturing to the seat on the other side of the desk. Jim sank down into the red chair, which was hard and uncomfortable. Not like Admiral Bartlett's office, which he secretly thought was designed to lull people into a false sense of comfort. He'd been in Pike's office before, but he'd never felt so nervous. He'd never had anything to lose before.

Pike didn't look angry, at least. That was a good sign. "Jim," the older man put down the papers he had had clutched in his hands, "I'm going to cut right to the chase."

Wow. Not even a greeting or a poor attempt at small talk. This was it. Jim's stomach flopped, "Captain Pike. Before you say anything, I just want to thank you and apologize. Thank you for telling me to join Starfleet, for encouraging me to do something with my life. And apologize, for, you know. Committing mutiny."

There was a pause, and then Pike smiled at him gently, "It just so happens that committing mutiny saved all of us, which is why you're not being discharged."

"I'm not?" he didn't think he'd ever felt such relief before. A smile spread across Jim's face and he couldn't keep the excitement from his voice, "Thank you sir!"

"In fact, for your heroic efforts, Starfleet's decided to promote you," he paused and Jim practically glowed at the idea of becoming an officer, "You'll be given a commendation, of course, and then promoted," there was a lengthy pause as Pike dragged out the suspense, "To Captain."

Silence hung heavy in the room as Jim's mouth fell open in disbelief, "To...to Captain, sir?"

"Yes. Seems a certain former-Captain, now-Admiral recommended you as his replacement. And after collecting all the relevant information, it's been decided that you possess the necessary qualities to be a great Captain," he smiled, "Congratulations, Captain Kirk, you're going to be in charge of the Enterprise."

Well, looked like he owed Sulu twenty credits, "Thank you! I can't believe you recommended me as your replacement! Thank you sir!" he wrapped one of Pike's hands in both of his and shook it hard, beaming so much that he thought his face might break. The older man smiled slightly, obviously amused at his enthusiasm.

"Get out of here. Your ceremony's tomorrow morning at 0900."

Jim practically danced his way out and all the way to Bones' quarters, slamming his fist down on the buzzer and leaving it there until a rumpled doctor answered the door, "What the hell do you want? Stop smiling so hard, you're going to damage something."

"Bones, Sulu was right. I'm getting promoted to Captain! They're giving me the Enterprise!"

"Well, at least you'll stop sulking around," offered the doctor, standing aside to let him into the room. This was clearly his way of saying congratulations, "Now you can get back to being your attention-seeking, obnoxious self."

"Thanks Bones!" he said, flying into his room. It was a single, Bones being of sufficient rank that apparently he no longer had to put up with another person snoring seven feet from his head. He fell backwards onto his friend's neatly made bed, ignoring the grumbling complaints from the doctor, "I can't believe it."

"Neither can I," Bones honestly didn't sound like he believed it at all, "So, are we going out to celebrate tonight?"

"Of course! I'll buy you a drink!" exclaimed Jim, bouncing slightly and messing up the bedspread.

"Get off my bed. I have to sleep there, and you're contaminating it!" he said and then, "And I'll be buying you a drink, not the other way around."

Jim laughed and started rolling up and down his best friend's bed just to piss him off, and was rewarded by a huff and then a thinly veiled threat to his life.