Detective Deeks

It had all happened so quickly. 

For Leonard’s birthday, (his 37th, not that he was telling anybody that) his mother (bless he soul) had bought him a wine tasting session at one of the posh vineyards out of town. That had been almost a year ago, and it expired next week. 

It wasn’t that he particularly wanted to make good of the present, but he was oh-so-sick of his mother asking if he had been yet. Not to mention the thought of wasting good money made his stomach spin. So he’d asked Jim. 

They’d been seeing each other, on and off, for a couple of years. Between Jim’s deployments and his own work, it had been hard to ‘make the time’. Still, Jim was home for now, and now was a good a time as any. 

The problem he didn’t realise until they got their was thus: wine people are boring, swilling and spitting wine is gross, and neither he nor Jim had ‘got it on’ for way too long. 

For the first half an hour they nodded their way through, pretending they were interested. At around the 45 minute mark, Jim turned with wild eyes and muttered, “I can’t get through this, Len, what the hell have you brought me too?!” Leonard rolled his eyes and shoved a drink in Jim’s face, double checking that the way too happy lady doing the tour wasn’t looking. 

“Just keep fucking drinking, I want to get my money’s worth.” 

Jim sighed and threw that tiny sample down his throat. He then leaned forward, and with Dodger like skills, snagged the couple in fronts samples. “Trust me baby, I’ll make sure we do,” Jim gave an eyebrow wiggle that had heat pooling in his stomach.

By the time they got to the shop at the end, Leonard was flushed. Jim’s eyes shone as he tugged Leonard by the hand. “Look, Len!” he said loudly, attracting everyone’s attention. “More testers!” and he was right, tiny samples were laid out next to a name tag. Jim grabbed one on each of the many wines, taking multiple trips between the sample and Leonard. 

“Err, excuse me, sir?” a women said politely, “You’re only allowed one sample.”

Jim blinked at her in confusion, “but it doesn’t say that on the sign.”

“Well no…”

“It should probably say that on the sign,” he said, almost falling over his words.

His loud voice was attracting a lot of attention. “Yes, sir, but…”

“I’m just getting my money’s worth,” he shrugged, giving a smile that made Leonard wanted to grab him by the neck and get him home, like right now. 

He staggered off before she could reply. “Sup up Lenny!” 

Leonard did so, drinking the sample in one tip. He heard a screech of, “you’re supposed to-” but he blocked it out and focused on Jim’s wine-stained lips.

“I fucking love you,” he said, without thinking.

Jim’s dazed eyes met his. “Oh Lenny, thought you were never going to-”

Their lips clashed together, the heat from the alcohol giving way to the heat of something else.  “Let’s get outta here.”

Ncis Los Angeles- Payback- 8x15

Ncis Los Angeles - Payback 8x15 - Sam and Deeks

blurry picture of the day

– Alright, you’re done with the local. Last chance to back out bud…

– No, I’m good.

@allbutpunniless prompt: uhura discovers/suspects jim&bones are more than friends (based on real subtle stuff) and confronts jim after he and bones have had (or are in the middle of) a huge fight. i’m such a sucker for depth and he-is-my-entire-world-*tenderness* behind a cavalier/macho facade :))))) longtime not-really-secret-but-really-discreet established relationship Mckirk

Uhura had always had a nose for gossip, or so people said. Uhura had always said she had a nose for mystery, not gossip. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise that she was the first to work it out.

The first time she had ever suspected anything between her two friends and colleagues, they hadn’t been friends and they’d barely been colleagues. It was during the shit storm that was the Narada when she was busy preventing her suicidal Vulcan from well, the obvious. So at the time she’d barely even noticed, at least not till much much later. Spock had been on the transporter pad, and she’d been there for him, to send him off and wish him luck. Then there was Jim, standing alone and lost while Spock had had her. Or so she’d thought. They’d gone, taking her heart with them. She’d turned to leave, to be useful and jolted in surprise. There, standing in the shadow of the door, was McCoy, his face broken in grief and sorrow. She’d not known him well enough to comfort him, nor had she known why he needed it. With decisive steps she’d left the room and with everything that followed, that small moment had escaped her mind.

The second time was months into their mission. She was now of course friends with Dr McCoy, whom she’d begun to feel comfortable enough to call Len while off duty. But despite Jim’s best efforts, she had not struck up the same rapport with Jim as rest of the command team. Sulu and Jim sparred weekly, with more than a few spectators. Jim and Scotty could often be found doing something suspicious down in engineering. Chekov and the Captain had bonded over Russian vodka, and well complex problems that only Spock seemed to understand. McCoy had been putting up with Kirk for years, and surprisingly after an awful start Spock and Jim had bonded over chess. Uhura however found that first expressions where hard to shift, not to mention she had always believed that it was wrong to see your superiors as your friend. There had been an awful away mission (before it had become a common occurrence), and McCoy and several others had been seriously injured. She’d come, armed with some cheer up holos, when she’d come to a screeching stop before entering the small curtained area where she knew Leonard’s bed resided. The cause of her screeching stop, was none other than Jim Kirk. As she peered through the curtain she felt her mouth gape slightly. The Captain, who was brash, rash and cared for appearances, was slumped forward in the uncomfortable hospital chair, his folded arms cradled his head as he leant on the table. It was a position that had her wincing. She caught Leonard’s eye, who although looked beaten up and rather grumpy, looked relatively normal, he placed a bruised and broken finger to his cracked lips.

Leonard’s hand moved from where she thought Jim’s hand rested, and beckoned her forward.

“He was worried,” Leonard said quietly.

Uhura quirked her eyebrow, “as we all were.”

Perhaps,” he said. “At least I won’t be allowed on any more away missions, thank God.”

The second time had caused her to wonder, she had watched them closely, wondering if, perhaps, there was more than two close friends. She’d voiced her thoughts to Spock more than once, but, as he frequently told her, the nuances of human emotion frequently, and completely, sidestepped him. It had been the third time, months later, that had finally made her ask.

The third time was not long after. She had not forgotten the tenderness she’d seen, and, almost unknowingly, it had influenced her feelings towards Jim. She knew now that Jim deserved tenderness, deserved closeness and above all that he deserved her respect.

“I’m not talking about it now,” Leonard snapped roughly, Uhura stopped, not wanting to interrupt whatever bollocking her was giving.

“Bones, please,” Jim pleaded. Uhura’s gasp caught in her throat, there was no mistaking the fact those two were in a relationship now. She could feel it in the air. She peered round the corner at Jim’s broken expression and Leonard’s furious one.

“James, I said no.”

“Leonard,” Jim said, holding out her hand. Leonard brushed it aside and strode out, leaving Jim standing dumbly, his hand dropping to his side.

“So you and Leonard,” Uhura said, rounding the corner. Jim jumped before rubbing his face roughly.

“Not any more, it would seem,” he said, trying a half smile but performing more of a grimace.

Anonymous- if you want an angsty mckirk prompt what abt away mission gone wrong, jim presumed dead, bones Reacting?

“No.” the voice was final, dull, and those close enough to feel the sudden change, to know the emptiness it reflected, shuddered.

“Dr McCoy,” a sharp-by-nature but equally hollowed voice, called.

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Len,” Scotty murmured, his own eyes filled with tears that fell without care down his face. He pressed a hand to Leonard’s shoulder and gripped him tight, not knowing what else to do except let him know he was not alone in his grief. Leonard stood, unmoving, looking out of the view screen, which moments ago showed the shuttles slow descent onto Argo IV, and the now sudden debris that floated aimlessly and passively through the expanse. The explosion that had rocked the shuttle was gone. Only silence and calm remained.

Uhura was trying, almost without thinking, to raise any one of the five people aboard the shuttle. Two security officers, Nurse Brega, a science officer, and of course, the one she wanted to hear most of all, Captain James T Kirk.

McCoy was rocking on the spot, his eyes still refusing to leave the view screen as he tried to process that the man he kissed goodbye, only ten minutes ago, was now dead.

Spock was talking, demanding they recover the wreckage, the bodies, and investigate the cause.

“No,” this time, this time it was more of a howl. “He can’t be, they can’t be-” and McCoy sank to his knees, his chest heaving with sobs. “He was just here, he was just here.” Scotty was now stood writing his hands, Uhura had left her station and was now nestled beside Scotty as they clung to one and other now knowing what else to do.

“Dr McCoy,” Spock said, not unkindly. “Perhaps Lieutenant Uhura should escort you back to your quarters.”

McCoy growled from beneath his hands, and he shakily wiped his face and nose on the sleeve of his blues. He stood, on shaking legs, and faced Spock with a snarl.

“I will not be treated like a child, Spock! I am a Doctor dammit, and those people were my people, and it’s my job be waiting for their bodies to come back, it’s my job-” he broke off.

Spock stepped forward, while the others looked around, unable to cope with their own emotions let alone those of Doctor McCoy. Spock gripped McCoy’s shoulders, his eyes filled with uncharacteristic tears. “I understand, my friend, I did not mean to deny your feelings or your duties, I simply meant to give you the time you required to compose yourself.”

“Jim’s dead,” McCoy said brokenly.

“Yes,” Spock said gripping him tighter as he shook. There was no need for denial, they all knew what had happened.

“What are we going to do?” McCoy said weakly.

Like you wanna keep your snotty ass kid quiet, I get that. So you like feed them shit. That you haven’t paid for. Right whatever literally don’t care.

But then you give the checkout worker the slimey, bacteria coated THING and expect us to scan it? Like, I was once literally given the core of an apple. Another time I was given like the stick of a chewed lolly stick.

This is a response to: @thepathlesstrekked

McCoy has long lost count of how many times he and Jim had been separated (both by choice, and by force). Somewhere, along the way, it had become expected for them to have to fight to get back to each other. They always succeeded. It had become a fact of life: Jim Kirk will always nearly die on away missions; McCoy will always be asked to do the impossible; Scotty will always claim that something is beyond the realm of physics, and still manage it; and Jim and Bones are always end up without the other.

So, it had come to some surprise to McCoy that when the landing party had been attacked, and taken, by the (very) inhospitable locals, they’d been left in a cell together. McCoy had relaxed into the cell, secure in the knowledge that Spock (and the force of Enterprise) and Jim wouldn’t rest until they were out.

Then the unthinkable had happened.

Out of nowhere, in the middle of a game of ‘eye-spy’, they’d burst in. Old fashioned weapons were shoved into their backs. Wrenched from each other by uncaring hands.

“No!” Jim screamed in horror as Bones was lifted to his feet despite his squawking. Jim punched the man to the left, kicked the other man trying to restrain him. “No, Bones!” But Bones couldn’t speak, he had an arm crushing his larynx, a gun in his back. There was a wild look in Jim’s eye, and McCoy pleaded with his eyes, he couldn’t let Jim die for him, not here, not like this, and not again.

“We shoot,” the man at his neck growled. Jim sank to his knees in desperation, his hands on his head.

“Don’t,” he sobbed. They didn’t listen, they didn’t care.

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter Next generation - Fandom, harry potter- JK Rowling, HP Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, James/OC Characters: James Potter II, James Sirius Potter, Albus Potter, Lily Potter, Fred Weasley II, Harry Potter, Ginny Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Rose Weasley, Hugo Weasley Additional Tags: Next Generation, Hogwarts, Crime Series: Part 3 of After the War Summary:

Oscar is a therapy cat living in the Steere House Nursing and Rehabilitation Center in Providence, Rhode Island, U.S. since 2005. He came to public attention in 2007 when he was featured in an article by geriatrician David Dosa in the New England Journal of Medicine. According to Dosa, Oscar appears able to predict the impending death of terminally ill patients by choosing to nap next to people a few hours before they die. Hypotheses for this ability include that Oscar is picking up on the lack of movement in such patients or that the he can smell biochemicals released by dying cells.

Oscar inspired an episode of the TV show House, “Here Kitty”, which involves a cat that had predicted numerous deaths by curling up next to dying victims’ bedsides. 

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