Time is a God and We Cannot See Her Face

PART 8

{Song: "The River" by The Well Pennies}

"Well, about time! Thought I was gonna have to drink these mimosas all by myself!" Bones looked disgustingly cheerful in his blue uniform and snowflake-embroidered Santa hat.

"Since when do you drink mimosas?" Jim laughed, clapping Bones on the back. Spock stood just behind him, studying the array of costumes floating around on the crew, the trays of food and drink scattered about on small tables as appetizers for the Christmas dinner.

"Well, since it's Christmas and Spock said he'd try one if I won my bet. And I did. So here. Drink up."

"Dr. McCoy..." Spock's velvety voice chastised him.

"You made a bet with Bones?" Jim paused mid-sip and raised his eyebrows at his Vulcan.

Spock just sighed, lips drawn tightly together. But something in his eyes gleamed.

"Sure did," Bones boasted, shoving a mimosa towards Spock. "The product of a nice, long, personal discussion." The doctor smiled, but something biting surfaced when he spat out the last adjective. Spock stared at him blankly then took the drink.

"Noted, Doctor. Merry Christmas."

Jim and Bones' eyes widened in unison at Spock' inflection. He almost sounded pissed off. Jim scanned from Spock to Bones, then back to Spock, and burst out laughing.

"God dammit you two, you're gonna give me gray hairs." He rested a hand on Spock's back then took a long swig of the drink, eyes wincing at whatever the hell strong liquor Bones had decided was a good idea to put in a mimosa at 11:30 in the morning. "Either one of you wanna fill me in, or is this a private joke?"

"I'll fill you up while he fills you in, how about that." Bones' eyes pierced Spock as he snatched Jim's cup, then disappeared into the crowd.

"Well?" Jim absentmindedly stroked Spock's back with his thumb as he turned his head up at him.

"Captain."

"What?"

His taut muscles twitched under Jim's hand. "That is rather distracting."

"Is it?" Jim's hand drifted to the small of Spock's back.

Spock turned a look on Jim that positively engulfed him and sent something fluttering through his core. Shit, he was down bad.

"Ah, fine, fine." Jim dropped his hand. "What was the bet?"

Spock's eyes flickered away to the crowd again.

"The good doctor bet that I would wither and crumble to dust before I gave into my need for you."

Jim wasn't sure how many more shocking moments he could take in a day. He was racking up quite the score.

"He fucking what?"

"I did not agree to this bet. It was his solitary creation."

Spock had just admitted to having a need for him. And if it was true, of course Bones would know, he was Spock's doctor. As much as it embarrassed the Vulcan, his physical frame would always display some sort of evidence of his personal struggles, if anyone got close enough to him to notice. With a simple tricorder in hand, Bones could practically probe into your brain.  And Bones had already alluded to Jim that he was aware something was going on between him and the Vulcan. Multiple times. Jim's insides twisted a little as he regretted not outright talking to Bones about this sooner. He didn't want any sort of wedge between him and the doctor now, Bones was too dear to him.

Jim grinned as he shook his head at Spock. "Unbelievable. Did he torture you terribly to get that information? I know he likes to do that."

"Somewhat," Spock replied quietly.