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“I’ve got a room overlooking the beach,” Jim says, “with a balcony and a big, soft bed. I’m going to spend six days either in the water, in the sun, or asleep.”
Bones chuckles. “I give it three hours before you’re chomping at the bit to get back to your ship.”
“Such little faith in your captain,” Jim says, mock-affronted.
“I’ve known you too long,” Bones says dryly.
“No such—” Jim starts, then chokes on nothing. He sputters and coughs, and Bones looks at him with a critical eye.
“You alright?” he asks, reaching for his tricorder.
“He’s wearing jeans,” Jim says. “And short sleeves. I’ve never seen…” He’s staring off over Bones’s shoulder, but Bones is 98% sure of who is standing behind him.
“We’re on shore leave. We’re wearing civilian clothes, why shouldn’t Spock?” When Jim doesn’t answer, just keeps staring, Bones sighs, all drama. (He’s not nearly as dramatic as Jim.) In a softer tone he asks, “When are you going to tell him?”
That pulls Jim out of his frozen, staring state. “Never! Dammit Bones, I’m his commanding officer. It wouldn’t be—”
Bones rolls his eyes. “When did you become all concerned with what’s proper? How many times have I seen you with a nurse, or an alien you rescued from…” When he gets a good look at Jim, he lets his words trail off. Oh, it’s like that, he thinks.
Jim gives him a miserable, pleading look.
“I didn’t realize it was serious. You’re always pining after someone.”
“It’s not—” Jim starts, then rubs a hand over his face. “Alright. It is. But even if I told him…Bones, there’s no way he’ll ever feel the same way.”
I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Bones thinks. But he keeps the thought to himself.