Don't do anything stupid (3)
Bones thinks you and Captain Kirk are very similar, and it takes an away mission to prove him right.
Fluff and Adventure (Completed Series)
Warning: minor blood, needles, minor injuries. mild violence
This is a rewrite of a fic called "Another You" I did. Fixed it up a bit.
Read Part 2 or 1 here <3 this is the last part
“You should call me Jim… or Kirk,” he said, glancing at you with a smile.
“Sir… is that appropriate?” you asked, taken aback. You’d never worked with a captain who was okay with familiarity.
“I think after today, it’d be weird if you didn’t,” he replied, giving you a soft smile.
You raised an eyebrow, a small chuckle escaping you. “Alright, Jim… or Kirk,” you said, not quite a question but more of a playful jab.
“Perfect.” His gaze shifted from you to the phaser in his hand, then to the dark path ahead. “So, how do you not know how to use a phaser?”
You shrugged,“That’s just it—I know the standard, but that thing?” You motioned toward the phaser. “It’s anything but.”
As you both walked, he began to explain the different buttons and settings, even quizzing you on the important ones to make sure you could defend yourself if needed. You could hear the focus in his voice, like he was enjoying teaching you something new.
After a quiet beat, Jim looked over at you with a slightly mischievous grin. “You know, Bones thinks I should ask you out.”
Your head whipped toward him in shock. Of all things to come out of his mouth right now. “Does he?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and a blush crept up your neck. You quickly looked ahead, pretending to be very interested in the path in front of you.
Jim’s grin widened, the corners of his mouth curling into something just shy of a smirk. “Yeah. Bones has known I’ve had a thing for you for a while. Though, after this morning, when we tag-teamed him, he might’ve changed his mind.”
You swallowed hard, your heart skipping a beat at the unexpected confession. “I, uh… didn’t know Bones was so… observant,” you muttered, the blush on your face stubbornly refusing to fade.
Maybe it was the tension of the day, or the vulnerability in Jim's eyes as he spoke, but something in you shifted. You gathered your courage and, almost in a whisper, asked, “How long have you had this… crush?”
Jim’s blue eyes softened at your question, a mix of surprise and fondness in his gaze. “Since the day Bones introduced us,” he said, his voice calm but sincere. He gave you a teasing look as he added, “i have been showing up in your lab more than I should have.”
You blinked, unable to hide your surprise. “I thought you were just trying to get on Bones’ nerves,” you said, giving him a playful nudge. “We never really talked much beyond work.”
“I was intimidated,” he admitted with a wry smile, his eyes dropping to the ground briefly before meeting yours again.
You stopped walking, processing his words. “Why are you telling me this now?” You found yourself asking. Was he worried he wouldn’t make it off this planet alive?
Jim exhaled slowly, his expression serious. “When you’re in a life or death situation... the small things start to feel important. I don’t want to leave anything unsaid.” His tone shifted, more vulnerable than you’d expected.
Suddenly, without thinking, you reached up and kissed his cheek, a soft peck. It was impulsive, but somehow fitting. You wanted to let him know you understood, and that you felt the same.
“Well, I guess Bones was right,” you said, teasing, but with an undertone of sincerity. “You should ask me out.”
Jim looked at you for a long moment, his eyes reflecting a quiet appreciation. “I think I just might,” he replied with a small, knowing smile.
You both eventually came across the nest—a large, cave-like hole in the ground with a few small tents scattered inside. You surveyed the guards pacing the area and turned to Jim. “I thought this was supposed to be a diplomatic mission. What did you guys do to piss off the natives?”
“They’re not the natives we came here to meet,” Jim replied, his voice low. “This new species wiped out or enslaved the native inhabitants of this planet.” The chill in the air seemed to grow colder at the thought. Jim gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.
His skin was freezing, but it wasn’t the cold that made him feel that way—it was the blood loss. He needed medical help, and he needed it fast.
“Why did they take our crew?” You asked, the dread in your stomach only deepening as you realized you couldn’t see any of the missing crew members. “Trophies of their conquest,” Jim replied grimly. “They’ll be slaves.”
You spotted something on the left side of the camp—a small metal rod hooked up to a larger box. “Jim,” you said, pointing at it. “That’s what’s blocking our comms and transporters. If I can get to it, I could—”
“No,” he interrupted sharply, his eyes narrowing as they met yours. “That area’s surrounded. And you can’t even use a phaser.”
“Okay, then what’s your plan? Go in guns blazing?” You shot back, matching his intensity. “You can barely walk without me helping you. Don’t try to act like you’re fine when you’re clearly not.”
It was strange, snapping at him like that. This morning, you’d never have dared to speak to him so casually, but here you were—arguing with your captain.
“I have no idea what Bones was talking about. You're much more like him than you are like me,” Jim muttered.
“Wait, what? You’re saying I’m like Bones?” you scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "Because I—what? Think first, act later, right?" you shot back, the sarcasm practically dripping from your words.
“Exactly, but with a bit more pessimism,” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Oh, I think you’ve confused realism with pessimism,” you retorted. “If I were truly pessimistic, I wouldn’t have nearly died trying to save you when you were tied up. With all that blood loss, there’d be no point in saving a dead man.”
Jim’s grin widened, and his voice dropped, low and teasing. “Y/N, come on,” he whispered in your ear. “We both know you just couldn’t stand the thought of this pretty face going to waste.”
You felt your cheeks warm at his playful words, a wave of heat rushing over you as you forced your attention back to the task at hand.
"Jim, let me handle it. If I can take that thing down, you can use the comms to get the ship to lock onto the crew and beam them out." You glanced over at him, concern deepening in your eyes.
He needed real medical attention, and your arm wasn’t doing so well either. The pain you’d pushed aside while walking through the forest was now throbbing, the ache radiating up your arm, making it hard to focus.
“Fine,” he said after a long pause, but his voice was firm, “But if it’s too dangerous, Y/N, I want you to run. You haven’t trained in combat, and—”
“I know,” you cut him off, “but you don’t have the luxury of moving, and we don’t have time to waste. Stay here, I’ll handle it.”
He sighed. “I really can’t go anywhere.” At least that was reassuring. He couldn’t get himself into any more trouble. His cold wrist grabbed onto yours before you could run off. "Be careful," he said quietly. Then, his tone softened, but only slightly. "I said it last time, and you didn’t listen, so I’ll repeat it as your captain: Don’t do anything stupid."
You gave him a quick nod before slipping away, moving cautiously through the shadows. You had to be quick and quiet—there were guards everywhere, and you couldn’t afford to get caught. The grey antenna was just ahead, waiting for you to shut it down.
As you crept between the tents, your steps light, you froze suddenly, hearing a familiar voice. The woman’s voice. She was talking, and there were two other voices responding. They must have been in the tent right next to you. You crouched low, phaser drawn, and carefully lifted a corner of the fabric to peer inside.
The tent was quiet except for the voices, and you could see that they were alone.
“You,” the woman’s voice rang out, “Y/N, the scientist.” Uraha recognized. You acted fast, running to her first, untying the ropes that bound her, and passing her a phaser before quickly moving to the others. “The captain?” Sulu asked, his tone heavy with concern.
“He’s alive,” you said grimly, “barely. He lost a lot of blood. There’s a device blocking the comms. I need to take it down if we’re going to get out of here.”
They nodded solemnly, and after a quick discussion, it was decided that they would stay put, not wanting to attract more attention as a larger group, especially in their wounded state.
Making your way toward the box, your stomach dropped when you realized it was locked. You cursed under your breath, frustration flooding your chest. Time was running out, and silence was no longer an option. This was going to be risky, but there was no other choice.
You raised the phaser, aiming carefully as the intense beams of energy shot out, striking the metal. It didn’t take long for the surface to scorch, a small hole forming in the center.
"Hell yeah," you muttered under your breath, spinning the phaser around your finger. "Like it was nothing…"
As you stepped back, ready to evaluate the damage, something slammed into your back. Before you could even react, a large hand gripped you tightly, lifting you off your feet and slamming you into the cold, unforgiving wall. The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, leaving you dizzy and disoriented as you crumpled to the ground.
Your body was still reeling from the shock when the sharp sting of another blow loomed, and your heart raced as you braced yourself, preparing for the next attack.
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"Y/N!" Jim’s voice cut through the fog of pain and disorientation. You blinked, groggy, and looked up, realizing you were lying safely on the floor of the transport bay.
"I can't believe we actually survived that," You said, your voice tinged with disbelief. You felt the blood dripping from your head, and your arm throbbed with pain, but you were alive. You had made it.
"Always so pessimistic, Y/N. I knew the whole time we'd be fine," Jim continued, his grin wavering slightly in the face of his own exhaustion.
"Depends on your definition of fine," you shot back. "You have a hole in your leg; I personally wouldn't call that fine."
Before he could respond, the doors slid open, and Dr. McCoy strode in, pushing a wheelchair. "There’s no point arguing with him, Y/N," McCoy said with a dry chuckle.
Kirk raised an eyebrow as he looked at you. "Hey, what happened to 'don’t do anything stupid'? I watched you get tossed."
You winced, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "Just thought to myself… hmm, what would Jim do? And as it turns out, it was stupid and dangerous."
Jim opened his mouth to make a snarky comeback, but instead, he swayed dangerously and started to slump. You and Bones both scrambled to catch him, lowering him into the wheelchair before he completely collapsed.
"Sorry, guys," Jim muttered weakly, his voice a little slurred. "I guess I’m falling too hard for Y/N."
"Only you would try to flirt while fainting from blood loss," Bones shot back, his dry humour not quite masking his concern.
You couldn't even look at Jim, the heat in your cheeks too much to bear. The rest of the walk to the med bay passed in silence, your mind still spinning from the absurdity of everything.
In the med bay, Bones led Jim into a private room to work on his leg, and you were left to decide what to do. The exhaustion weighed on you, your head still a little fuzzy, but you weren’t sure whether to rest or stay and make sure Jim was okay.
"Excuse me, miss?" A soft voice broke you from your thoughts. An older man, his name badge reading Dr. Jean, gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Dr. McCoy told me to take a look at your head."
"I’m really okay," you insisted, but he gave you a kind smile and nudged you toward the nearby exam chair.
It wasn’t like you had the energy to argue. You sank into the chair, allowing Dr. Jean to clean the wound on your head. He gave you a thorough concussion exam, his hands gentle but professional. After a moment, he nodded. "You’re clear. No concussion, you’re just a little shaken up."
You nodded, grateful, but your eyelids felt heavy. The events of the day had taken their toll, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this drained. You didn’t want to walk all the way to your quarters, so instead, you settled into a chair in the hallway, eyes fluttering closed. Just for a moment.
The quiet hum of the med bay was the last thing you heard before sleep finally claimed you.
You felt someone gently shaking your shoulder, and the movement sent a jolt through your body, but you could barely summon the energy to respond. Your eyes felt like they weighed a ton, and no matter how hard you tried, they wouldn’t open.
A voice—familiar but distant—shouted, cutting through the haze in your mind. "What do you mean you cleared her!? Does she look okay to you?" The voice was sharp and urgent, but it still didn’t seem to make sense. "Doc… Doctor McCoy?" you heard it again, more clearly this time.
Someone cupped your cheek, and the touch made you flinch, the sensation so stark against your foggy brain. You wanted to open your eyes, to make sense of it all, but it felt impossible. Then, Jim's voice came through, low but urgent. "Bones, she’s talking…"
"J-Jim?" you muttered, barely able to get the word out, but your voice sounded weak, hollow. A hand brushed your neck, sending a dull ache through the bruised skin. "Ouch," you whispered, the pain from the day's events flaring back in an instant.
"I can barely feel a pul–" Jim's voice sounded more concerned now, but it was still muffled by the fog.
"Nurse Chapel, help me lift her," Bones barked, and then the voices blurred together, talking too fast for you to follow. You couldn’t focus. The more you tried to make sense of their words, the heavier your thoughts became.
“T–Too Foggy…” you whispered, your breath coming in shallow gasps, the simple effort of speaking leaving you winded. "Doctor, my head…"
You felt your body shift as they laid you down again, the softness of the bed beneath you a small comfort in the chaos. But nothing could stop the growing sense of panic that bloomed in your chest.
“I’m telling you, McCoy, she does not have a concussion,” someone growled, the frustration evident in their voice.
"Pulse is thready and weak, not fully alert," another voice added, almost as if they were talking to themselves.
Your eyes finally cracked open, but the brightness around you was too much. It felt like a thousand needles against your senses, and you winced as the world around you became a blur.
The warmth of Jim's hand in yours was a lifeline amid the chaos of your dizzying thoughts. "Vitals are not holding," you heard someone murmur.
You turned your gaze to your hand, finding his fingers wrapped around yours, and something about the touch grounded you. “You were…” you gasped for air, each word feeling like it took everything you had. "Jim..." you tried again, breathless, "I think she’s talking to you, try to ask her—" He looked between you and the doctor, but there was a distant edge to his gaze, one that spoke volumes of his own concern. "You were so cold when we—"
You sucked in another quick breath, the sharpness in your chest reminding you just how weak your body was right now. “But now you’re very warm.”
The orders from Dr. McCoy cut through the haze: “Start her on an IV and 92% oxygen.” You felt something cold touch your arm, but the numbness was only on one side—your arm, the one that had been scratched. A strange, muted panic flared in your chest as you tried to speak again, but each word felt like it was being pulled from the depths of a fog.
“Doctor,” you gasped, “My arm…” You couldn’t even see it, but you could feel it tingling, the lack of sensation unnerving.
Dr. McCoy’s voice was tight with frustration as he moved to examine the scratch. "Dammit," he muttered under his breath, lifting your sleeve to inspect the wound. "Jim, you said she scratched it? That looks infected, and her symptoms would suggest venom... maybe the plant was venomous?"
You could feel the oxygen mask pressed over your face, the steady stream of air filling your lungs, giving you a moment of relief. Jim was holding it there, his fingers gentle against your skin. You managed a weak smile, trying to focus on him as the world swirled around you.
“You stayed with me?” you managed, the words feeling fragile. It seems whatever medication and interventions being given to you, were already having a positive effect on you. Feeling more able to talk.
Jim looked down at you, his gaze softening for a moment. "Of course," he said, the teasing edge to his voice making a return. "Couldn't let Bones have all the glory."
You blinked slowly, warmth creeping into your chest as you met his gaze. "Thought it was because you couldn’t let my pretty face go to waste." You could feel your heart flutter despite the lingering haze of exhaustion. Jim chuckled softly, but it was the kind of laugh that didn’t quite mask the concern still hidden beneath it.
Jim’s lips brushed your forehead in a gentle, lingering kiss, his fingers smoothing the strands of hair away from your face with a tenderness that made your chest tighten.
“Y/N, your wound’s been thoroughly cleaned. Nurse Chapel is going to administer a remedy; it may make you drowsy.” McCoy said. You reached out with your other hand, weakly grasping Dr. McCoy’s arm, squeezing it as best as you could. “You're welcome, Darlin,” he murmured, offering you a soft, reassuring smile before stepping back and leaving the room.
As his footsteps faded, your gaze shifted to Jim, who was still watching you with a mixture of concern and something else, something that made your heart flutter despite the exhaustion.
"So, when am I getting this date?" you teased, trying to focus through the fog of fatigue.
Jim raised an eyebrow, feigning shock. “This doesn’t count?” he said, leaning back slightly. You couldn’t help but smile at his teasing.
“As much as I think it’s romantic that you almost bled out, and I almost died in a chair, I feel others may disagree,” you teased back, your voice light.
He chuckled softly, a playful glint in his eyes. “You need rest. When you wake up,” he whispered, like a promise.
“Mm, not even tired, too excited,” you mumbled, your words fading as your eyes fluttered closed. The exhaustion finally overtook you, but deep down, you knew that whatever lay ahead would wait for you.
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The doctor was right. You slept for about 16 hours while the anti-venom worked its magic through your body. Despite the lingering ache in your muscles, you felt revitalized—energetic, even.
“Y/N, you’re finally awake,” McCoy's voice broke through the haze, and you blinked up at him, relief flooding your chest as his familiar face came into view. A knowing smile tugged at his lips.
“Bones,” you said softly, your own smile reflecting the warmth in your chest. But as your gaze shifted, a lingering doubt crept in. Was it all real? The mission, the danger, the adrenaline, the promised date? Part of you wondered if it had been some wild hallucination brought on by the stress and venom.
As if McCoy could sense the question lingering in your eyes, he spoke before you could voice it. “I know someone will be happy to see that,” he muttered, his tone dry. “He hasn’t stopped bugging me about you.” The mention of Jim sent a wave of reassurance through you. Of course, it had all been real.
Your lips parted, but you hesitated, unsure if you really wanted to ask. “Is he alright?” You could see him in your mind—bloodied, vulnerable.
McCoy’s hands worked quickly, checking your vitals as his eyes flicked back to you. “He’s on crutches, but don’t worry,” he said, a touch of amusement in his voice. “He’s been calling me every five minutes to check in on you.”
A smile tugged at your lips as you stretched, stiff muscles protesting. “Can you do me a favor and not tell him I’m awake yet?” you asked, the request slipping out with a soft laugh.
McCoy gave you a pointed look, but his mouth quirked at the edges. “You two are gonna give me an early retirement.” He muttered something about stress and heart attacks before heading out, leaving you to recover in peace.
After a quick shower and a stop by the cafeteria for something warm, you found yourself standing in front of Jim’s door, your heart racing. The familiar chime sounded, and the door slid open.
There he was—leaning slightly on his crutch, eyes lighting up the moment he saw you.
“I thought we could have our date as you promised,” you said, lifting the bottle of whiskey and containers of food toward him, your smile just as wide.
“Y/N!” Jim’s voice cracked with disbelief. He stepped forward, his eyes scanning over you, taking in the way you stood there, alive, whole. “You’re awake!? Bones didn’t tell me you were up. Did he check you over before you left?” His gaze lingered on you for a moment too long, searching for any sign that you might be hiding something, but you saw only relief in his eyes.
You set the food and drinks down on the nearby table. “Yes, of course,” you said, turning to face him fully. The nervous flutter in your chest made you second-guess the moment, but you pushed it aside. “I thought it’d be a nice surprise,” you added with a teasing smile. “I brought food and drinks because I know your leg’s still recovering. I hope that’s alright?”
Jim’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips as he stepped closer. He reached out and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, deliberate strokes. His other hand gripped his crutch, steadying himself.
Before you could say anything, he leaned in and kissed you—soft, tender, like a promise. His lips lingered against yours for a moment, the warmth of the kiss grounding you, making everything else fade into the background.
“Very much okay with me,” he whispered, his voice low as he pulled you a little closer.
