A/N: I know I said this was done, but I was bumming around my computer and found this fic and re-read it and giggled to myself and I seem to remember a request for an epilogue in the reviews, so. Happy Birthday, slash lovers.

Warnings: slashy sex between Jim/Spock and slashy kissing between Sulu/Chekov.

Epilogue, or:

How the Crew Found Them Out.

McCoy

It was so late that it was early, but Leonard had had a long. ass. day. and wanted some of that confiscated Andorian ale he knew Jim was hiding in his closet. Leonard was still thrumming with adrenaline—the day's earlier confrontation with the Romulans had flooded the medbay, but he'd kicked some royal ass and they hadn't had a single casualty. He felt (quite rightfully so) that he deserved a reward.

He leaned on Jim's door chime, but got no answer. Pressed it again—still nothing. He shrugged to himself, figuring Jim was probably out harassing someone (probably Scotty—they were limping along at warp three, and that was bound to annoy the kid) and keyed in the lock override code. The door swished open and Leonard stepped in, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the room.

The room, which was not empty.

Actually, it was the desk which was not empty.

Specifically, the desk was occupied by a bent over, pants-less, blissed-out James Tiberius Kirk. And behind him, thrusting quite forcibly, was one S'chn T'gai Spock.

Spock's eyes were fixed on Jim's ass, and in the second before Leonard's brain caught up with his eyes, Spock purred quite clearly, "You cannot put yourself in such danger as you did today, Captain."

"Not much… of a… punishment… Mister Spock," Jim forced out between Spock's thrusts.

It was then that Leonard's traitorous mouth chose to speak.

"The… what!"

Over at the desk, both men's heads snapped up. Spock's eyes widened, and he tried to extricate himself from the situation, but Jim reached back and grabbed his arm, effectively disallowing his escape.

"Hey Bones, give us a minute?" Jim asked, both grinning and laughing, and god dammit of course he thought this was funny.

Leonard practically fell out of the room in an effort to get away from the physical amounts of Awkward (he would never be able to look Spock in the eye again) and fled back to the medbay where he had a bottle of Scotty's moonshine that he had kept in case of a dire emergency.

And Jesus but was this an emergency.

Twenty minutes later, Jim wandered into Leonard's office, his hair slightly rumpled and his uniform not exactly spotless, and plopped down in the chair opposite the doctor, who silently poured him a measure of the moonshine. Jim took it with a wordless smirk, and they drank in silence until Leonard couldn't handle it anymore.

He banged his glass down on his desk (identical to the desk in Jim's quarters, and if Leonard blushed violently when he made this connection, Jim was polite enough not to mention it).

"Spock?" Leonard asked, his voice slightly shrill.

Jim gulped the rest of the drink in one go and grinned at his friend. "Spock."

"…How?" Leonard wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Jim's grin grew wider and he contemplated the bottle sitting between them happily, poured himself another measure. "Those fan fictions you showed me months ago put the idea in my head. And then Spock saw them accidentally and… we had a discussion about them."

"A discussion," Leonard repeated blankly.

"He fucked me."

Leonard made an unhappy noise, and Jim laughed. "Aw c'mon, it's not that bad. Actually, I think it's kinda awesome."

Leonard took a deep breath and switched gears. "It's not bad. I was just… surprised, is all." He hesitated. "I thought… last mission, didn't you and that ambassador?"

Jim waved a hand. "Nah. Flirting is all…" His grin turned filthy. "You should see Spock when he gets jealous, not that he'd ever admit to such a base emotion…"

"Well," Leonard leaned back and shook his head. "I wish ya'd told me." He furrowed his brow, sliding into doctor mode. "Are you being safe?"

Jim quirked his mouth. "You know we're good—we both had a clean bill of health at our last physicals."

"Yea, but that was six months ago," argued Leonard.

Jim smiled again—this one much warmer, and his eyes softened. "I haven't been with anyone but him since then. Neither has he. We're together, Bones." Leonard regarded him for a minute, and Jim beamed back. He went on: "I actually… I kinda think I'm in love with him." His voice dropped, and he smiled into his cup. "He's amazing."

"Well," Leonard said, and raised his glass. Jim looked up and smiled, brought his own glass up to clink against Leonard's. "Congrats, kid. I'm happy for you."

Scotty

About a month after Bones had so rudely interrupted a particularly awesome night of sexing, Jim was puttering in Engineering with Scotty, (it had been a slow month and Jim was kinda going out of his mind with boredom on the bridge) working on hypotheticals regarding decreasing transport time—average transport took twenty seconds, and Scotty wanted to get it down to ten.

Jim chewed on his stylus and poked at his PADD. "If you can counter the gravitational issues we've been having with this (Jim showed Scotty an equation) we should be able to knock off a couple seconds, yea? Check my math, though."

Scotty grabbed the PADD and started running through the figures, muttering to himself. Jim's communicator chirped, and he pulled it off his belt. "Kirk here."

"Jim," Spock's voice floated out of the device, "I was wondering if you were available tonight? I believe I have mastered the new T'Lira piece on the lyre and wanted to—" his voice had a tinge of excitement that Jim was pretty sure only he could hear, but he cut Spock off anyway—he didn't want Scotty overhearing something emotional that would make Spock uncomfortable.

"Yea, I'm in Engineering with Scotty right now, we're just playing math games. I'll meet you for dinner, okay?" He smiled into his communicator.

Spock's answering reply was more businesslike now that he knew Jim wasn't alone. "Of course. I will see you at 1900 hours."

"See ya then," Jim said softly, and closed his communicator, clipped it back to his belt, and turned to Scotty.

Who had a gigantic grin on his face.

"What…" Jim asked with some trepidation.

"It's about time," Scotty said firmly.

"I don't know what you're—"

"Ach, Jim! You two 've taken forever to get yer heads on straight. I'm glad ya finally wised up to one another."

"We're—" Jim tried halfheartedly. He didn't really care if it got out that he and Spock were dating, but it might cause problems with the Admiralty, so he and Spock had decided that they wouldn't flaunt it.

Scotty laughed and slapped him on the back. "Congratulations, Captain. I sincerely hope you two have th' most happiness—ye deserve it." Jim smiled down at his hands, and Scotty laughed. "So tell me," he continued, "how'd ye two get together finally? If I was right, I might have hypothetically won a hypothetical pool."

Jim laughed. "It was, uh. Thanks to Bones, actually. He showed me this website that has a bunch of stories—"

"Ach! Fan fiction!" Scotty interjected. "I know that site—I've looked through it meself. There's a fair number on there about me and Miss Uhura, actually…" he smiled to himself and his gaze softened. "A fair number…"

Jim snorted and pushed himself to his feet. "Well, if you don't mind, I'm gonna go accost Spock. He's been working on that piece for weeks."

"I don't mind," Scotty grinned at him. "Just one thing—"

Jim turned back to him, eyebrows raised (as hard as he tried, he couldn't get the single arch that Spock had down to an art form) in curiosity.

"I dunna wanna catch ya makin' out in the Jeffries tubes—I've got quite enough of that from the rest o' the Engineering staff."

Jim laughed, and promised Scotty that he and Spock would keep it restricted to their quarters.

Uhura

She caught him in the mess hall, carefully manicured fingers gripping slightly too tightly. Spock looked down, raised an eyebrow in confusion, but allowed himself to be dragged away from his breakfast and out the door.

"Alright, spill," she said once they were alone in the abandoned rec room—it was too early for anyone to be using it.

"I am unaware of to what you are referring," Spock told her, and she let out an unladylike snort.

"Who is it? I'm just curious, Spock. You're all innocent, I don't want some hussy corrupting you," Nyota told him. "Who are you dating?"

Spock swallowed and shifted into parade rest. Nyota narrowed her eyes. "Is it someone I won't like?"

"What actions have I engaged in that make you so sure I am romantically involved with anyone?" Spock asked, genuinely curious. He was under the impression that he and Jim were being extremely discreet—with the exceptions of McCoy and Scott, he was certain their relationship remained a secret.

Nyota leaned back to take him in from head to toe. "You're glowing," she said finally, and Spock surreptitiously glanced at the exposed skin of his hands. He did not see any 'glow,' and voiced as much.

"Not physically," Nyota told him, exasperated. "But you've got this… air… about you, I guess. You seem really happy." Spock raised an eyebrow, and Nyota sighed. "Well, not happy, but all smugly stoic. And I know you, Spock. I know what smugly stoic means."

Spock glanced around the rec room, looking for a way out of this conversation, finding none. He turned back to Nyota. "I assume that any reticence on my part will only be greeted with further escalating inquiries?" She nodded, and he let out a breath that was distinctly not a sigh.

"Captain Kirk and I have been engaging in intimate relations, beginning seven point two one months prior to this date."

Nyota stared at him, her mouth slightly open. Spock again raised his eyebrow.

"You and Kirk."

"Affirmative."

"You and Kirk."

"Affirmative, Nyota. Is it truly so unbelievable?" Spock's face had gone entirely blank, and Nyota winced.

"Sorry, I don't mean to sound so… judge-y. But it's a little weird. I mean, how did it even happen?"

"We proceeded forward from a place of mutual respect and admiration. Our minds are highly compatible, we share similar interests—" Spock cut off as the door to the rec room swished open and the object of their discussion poked his head in.

"Spock, you in here? The computer said you were…" Jim paused in the doorway, taking in Spock's mildly defensive stance and Nyota's crossed arms and pursed lips, and took a step backward. "Right," he muttered. "I'll just be going, then…" He practically winged himself on the door in an effort to escape, and when it had again closed behind him, Nyota turned her full glare back on Spock.

If he had been human, he might have cringed.

"You should have told me," she reprimanded, and Spock tilted his head in admission that yes, he should have.

"Publicly announcing our relationship may have consequences we are not yet prepared to face. We have decided that once a year has passed, we will make an announcement. Any possible detractors will see that during this year we have continued to perform cohesively, with the best interests of the crew in mind, and hopefully our relationship will not result in my forced transfer.

Nyota's face softened. "That's a good idea. The Enterprise would be hurt if you were forced to leave." Spock blinked and straightened slightly, pleased in his own subtle way by her compliment.

"I'm happy for you," Nyota said softly, and the corners of Spock's mouth twitched up.

"Thank you," he said.

Pike

"So," Pike said, crossing his arms and glaring between the pair of them. "You know this is against regulations."

"Not precisely, Admiral," Spock countered. "There are regulations regarding emotional compromise; however, as the Captain and I have engaged effectively in both a romantic relationship and as the commanding officers of the Federation's flagship simultaneously for the past year, it is apparent that we are not emotionally compromised, and therefore have broken no regulations."

Jim snaked his arm around Spock's waist, who turned and offered him a raised eyebrow. "I can have my Spock and my ship, too," Jim told Pike with a grin. "C'mon Chris, if you vouch for us, there's no way they'll do anything."

Pike sighed, eyeing Jim's hand, which was still resting on Spock's hip. After an extended silence, he huffed and ran his hand through his hair. "The Admiralty sort of assumed already, actually," he admitted, then leaned forward, closer to his monitor, and lowered his voice.

"Admiral Wurnos got drunk one night and told me that she reads fan fiction about you two. And apparently, so does Komack."

Jim burst out laughing, and Spock's lips parted ever so very slightly in shock.

The Crew in General

The mission had been a clusterfuck from the start.

Starfleet had assured Jim that the native people had warp capability, that they were open-minded, were actively searching the universe for intelligent life—perfect conditions, in other words, for a first contact.

Starfleet had been dead wrong.

When Jim had beamed down, he and the away team had immediately been taken into custody (deep underground, of course, and out of range of the transporter) and tortured for information. The aliens' language was confusing the universal translator, and Jim had only apparently managed to insult them so far.

The shit hit the fan when they stretched Sulu out over what appeared to be a medical table and poised themselves to begin cutting—and then Spock, accompanied by what seemed like the entirety of the Enterprise's security force, burst into the room, phasers already blasting.

It hadn't taken too long to drag the stunned and shaken away team into transporter range, and somehow miraculously, everyone was still intact when all the crew was present and accounted for.

But the first thing Spock had done when stepping off the transport pad (he'd stayed for the last round of beam-up, of course) was grab Jim and thoroughly kiss the breath out of him, entirely ignoring the packed-full room. When they'd finally separated, Spock breathed into Jim's ear: "This level of risk to your person was unacceptable. I must inform the Admiralty of their ineptitude."

Jim just smiled and kissed Spock lightly again before whispering, "I knew you'd get me. You always do."

Elder Spock

Spock walked into their quarters (he would never admit how pleasing it was to call it 'their') to find Jim talking animatedly to someone on his computer terminal.

"It was, like, the most awkward thing I've ever felt, because I was just ridiculously guilty for reading them, but then Spock went and wrote one—"" Jim rubbed his hands over his face and Spock raised an eyebrow. Was the captain blushing?

Jim noticed him and waved him over. Spock (somewhat apprehensively) stepped toward him, and Jim smiled. "I'm talking to Elder Spock. I figured he should know about us." Spock closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself—speaking to his elder self invariably left him feeling off-kilter—but went to sit next to Jim regardless.

"Greetings," he said to the Vulcan on the screen (who was smiling inappropriately) "Peace and long life."

"Hello, Spock. Jim was informing me of the circumstances behind the start of your relationship."

Spock turned to Jim, eyes slightly widened. "You divulged the…" he paused, and forced himself to say the next words, "nature of the fictional story?"

Jim grinned. "Yea, it's an awesome 'how we got together' anecdote. No-one else has something quite as original as that."

Spock stared at him. "You have told others as well?" He was uncomfortably aware that he was beginning to blush.

Jim looped his arm around Spock's waist and pulled him close, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and said apologetically, "…I may have told Bones and Scotty. And Sulu. And Chekov was there."

Spock felt his blush intensify uncontrollably. On the screen, Elder Spock watched them, his eyes crinkled with amusement.

"Spock," he offered, and the younger Vulcan turned back to him, his eyes wide. "If it does anything to ease your distress, my version of Jim did the same thing."

Chekov and Sulu

"Okay, holy shit," Sulu giggled, following Chekov into his quarters. "Do you actually believe that Commander Spock wrote a fan fiction to get into the captain's pants?"

"I weel believe eet when I see eet," Chekov told him, already at his computer terminal, pulling up the now-infamous page. "And I would not put eet past ze keptain to exaggewate ze nature of ze story."

"Well, let's see it," Sulu said, and rested his arms on the back of Chekov's chair. "Something about Marsia IX, right? Didn't you go on that away mission?"

"Yes," Chekov told him distractedly, "ze planet was wery beautiful. Ah, here eet is." He clicked on the link and began to read silently to himself—Sulu leaned down further and read over his shoulder.

Fifteen minutes later, they reached the bottom of the page—Chekov was blushing violently and Sulu actually was finding it difficult to breathe properly.

"Ze Commander wrote that," Chekov said, turning with wide eyes to Sulu. "Zhat was—"

"Holy hot, Batman…" Sulu muttered, and attempted to nonchalantly adjust himself. Chekov's eyes flicked down at his movement, and he smiled mischievously. The next instant, Sulu found himself tackled back onto Chekov's bed.

"Eet was hot, Hikaru," Chekov murmured, "but we, now…" he wriggled in a particularly enticing way, and Sulu groaned into his mouth.

"Yea, let's beat 'em," he muttered back, and rolled them over.