Short fic FTW
Dec. 27th, 2009 06:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
imasupermuteantTitle: Anaphalaxis
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gen. Kirk/Bones friendship
Summary: Jim likes to try new things
Leonard McCoy woke up at 5:27 on saturday morning to find his close (best and only) friend fully dressed in cadet reds, seated on the corner of his bed with an unhealthy gleam in his eyes and he clutched a biodegradable plastic jar to his chest.
"Bones!"
"Jim?"
"Bones!"
"Wha-- It's fuck-o-clock in the morning dammit!"
Jim's manic smile only grew wider, "I need your help."
"You can have my help in four hours, when I've about a gallon of coffee and I've finished choking you to death." McCoy muttered as he attempted to cover his head with the extra pillow.
"It won't be hard!" Jim told him, bouncing on the bed in a way that reminded Bones of Joanna on Christmas. "You just have to watch me."
"Are you going to leave, because I'd *love* to watch that." McCoy griped
"No." Jim told him in a way that sounded much to cheery for an overworked cadet this early in the morning, "You are going to watch me eat this."
"Eat wha-- Is that peanut butter?"
"Not exactly."
"It looks like peanut butter to me. Are you or are you not *severely* allergic to peanuts?"
"Yup! Peanuts, cashews, Andoran anything, hazelnuts, those Vulcan cookie things, peppers, shellfish, gagh, eggs, tomatoes, soy..."
"I know."
"Not to mention dryer sheet, detergent, cats, most lotions, penicillin, most painkillers..."
"Dammit Jim! I know what your allergies are, I'm your doctor!" McCoy was giving up on sleep, "Why the hell do you want me to watch you kill yourself?"
There was an ominous (and annoying) pause while Jim let the suspense build. It was a habit of his to savor any moments of panic or irritation that he might cause to the doctor. McCoy had noticed it over the course of their friendship, but refrained from mentioning it for the fear that Jim would find something else that was worse.
"This is not peanut butter!" Jim exclaimed, "*This* is Bolian parowak butter. It's not even made from a nut, in fact I think there's some kind of gross process where they puree the livers of some kind of pig... The essense of it is that this substance looks like peanut butter, and it tastes like peanut butter. But. It's. Not."
"Why don't you just, I don't know, *not* eat it and then we can all be happy and go back to sleep?" Bones grumbled.
"Where's your spirit of adventure?"
"Sleeping."
Jim rolled his eyes at his friend, "Look, I'm almost entirely sure that I won't have a reaction to this stuff. I just need you to watch me eat a little bit, and then if it all works out you can go back to sleep and I'll be working my way through a pile of PB 'n Js and everyone will be happy."
"PB 'n pig liver goo, you mean."
"Booooo~nes." Jim whined in a way that McCoy was almost certain he would never admit to later.
"Fine, fine. Eat your goddamn pig-butter."
"Yes!" With that, Jim brandished his spork (stolen from the dining halls, McCoy was sure) and scooped himself a bite...
... Nearly an hour later as he sat in a hospital room in his pajamas, watching Kirks monitors beep and wishing he had some whiskey, McCoy resolved to *never* let Jim Kirk eat anything new ever again.
"It was worth a shot." Jim rasped from his hospital bed, past lips which were swollen beyond belief.
"Shut up." Bones groused, "I hate you."
"Will you help me itch my..."
"No! Goddammit!"
"Hey Bones..."
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for helping me out."
"I had to." Bones told him "I'm the only one who know what antihistamines you're allergic to."
"Thanks all the same."
Bones leaned over and scratched lightly at the rash spreading across Jim's nose.
"What are friends for?"
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gen. Kirk/Bones friendship
Summary: Jim likes to try new things
Leonard McCoy woke up at 5:27 on saturday morning to find his close (best and only) friend fully dressed in cadet reds, seated on the corner of his bed with an unhealthy gleam in his eyes and he clutched a biodegradable plastic jar to his chest.
"Bones!"
"Jim?"
"Bones!"
"Wha-- It's fuck-o-clock in the morning dammit!"
Jim's manic smile only grew wider, "I need your help."
"You can have my help in four hours, when I've about a gallon of coffee and I've finished choking you to death." McCoy muttered as he attempted to cover his head with the extra pillow.
"It won't be hard!" Jim told him, bouncing on the bed in a way that reminded Bones of Joanna on Christmas. "You just have to watch me."
"Are you going to leave, because I'd *love* to watch that." McCoy griped
"No." Jim told him in a way that sounded much to cheery for an overworked cadet this early in the morning, "You are going to watch me eat this."
"Eat wha-- Is that peanut butter?"
"Not exactly."
"It looks like peanut butter to me. Are you or are you not *severely* allergic to peanuts?"
"Yup! Peanuts, cashews, Andoran anything, hazelnuts, those Vulcan cookie things, peppers, shellfish, gagh, eggs, tomatoes, soy..."
"I know."
"Not to mention dryer sheet, detergent, cats, most lotions, penicillin, most painkillers..."
"Dammit Jim! I know what your allergies are, I'm your doctor!" McCoy was giving up on sleep, "Why the hell do you want me to watch you kill yourself?"
There was an ominous (and annoying) pause while Jim let the suspense build. It was a habit of his to savor any moments of panic or irritation that he might cause to the doctor. McCoy had noticed it over the course of their friendship, but refrained from mentioning it for the fear that Jim would find something else that was worse.
"This is not peanut butter!" Jim exclaimed, "*This* is Bolian parowak butter. It's not even made from a nut, in fact I think there's some kind of gross process where they puree the livers of some kind of pig... The essense of it is that this substance looks like peanut butter, and it tastes like peanut butter. But. It's. Not."
"Why don't you just, I don't know, *not* eat it and then we can all be happy and go back to sleep?" Bones grumbled.
"Where's your spirit of adventure?"
"Sleeping."
Jim rolled his eyes at his friend, "Look, I'm almost entirely sure that I won't have a reaction to this stuff. I just need you to watch me eat a little bit, and then if it all works out you can go back to sleep and I'll be working my way through a pile of PB 'n Js and everyone will be happy."
"PB 'n pig liver goo, you mean."
"Booooo~nes." Jim whined in a way that McCoy was almost certain he would never admit to later.
"Fine, fine. Eat your goddamn pig-butter."
"Yes!" With that, Jim brandished his spork (stolen from the dining halls, McCoy was sure) and scooped himself a bite...
... Nearly an hour later as he sat in a hospital room in his pajamas, watching Kirks monitors beep and wishing he had some whiskey, McCoy resolved to *never* let Jim Kirk eat anything new ever again.
"It was worth a shot." Jim rasped from his hospital bed, past lips which were swollen beyond belief.
"Shut up." Bones groused, "I hate you."
"Will you help me itch my..."
"No! Goddammit!"
"Hey Bones..."
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for helping me out."
"I had to." Bones told him "I'm the only one who know what antihistamines you're allergic to."
"Thanks all the same."
Bones leaned over and scratched lightly at the rash spreading across Jim's nose.
"What are friends for?"
