dedication: to Beth, for Christmas.
title: think of me when you're out there
summary: The universe spits out a female Jim Kirk, and because this is Bones' life now, the only thing Jim can say is "…Damn, I'm hot." — Jim/Bones.
Their mission was a five-year-long endeavour for exploration of the universe.
Except that, you know what, it turned out that there were like, actually other universes. For real, other parallel universes. Jim Kirk only took this for fact for one reason: he was standing on the Enterprise's bridge, staring at a mirror of himself on the ship's com screen.
Except that the other him, y'know, had boobs. And wasn't actually a he.
Bones stared wordlessly at the woman on the telescreen. "Damn it, Jim, what did you this time?!"
"It's not my fault!" both Jims answered at the same time.
"Okay, that's a lie, it probably is my fault," the Jim on the screen said as she pushed her hair back, ran slim fingers through the jagged pixie cut she wore like a crown. It was a very Jim gesture; the twitch of the jaw, the tremble in the full lips, the way the tiredness crept in around the slump of the shoulders. There was no way to reproduce those things, and Bones had watched Jim a long time.
That was all the convincing Bones needed, anyway.
Spock, one of his pointy eyebrows raised, looked like he needed some more convincing.
"Sit down, Spock," said the woman, same jaunty tone, same sense of authority.
Spock sat, and Bones was pretty sure he was convinced, too.
Jim looked at himself, and went "…Damn, I'm hot."
"I'm pretty sure all incarnations of me is hot, like's it's a physical impossibility of me not being hot," she said, "and—"
There was a muffled clanking that came scratchy-soft over the speakers. "Damn it, Jim, did you manage to get contact? Or am I just gophering you again?! I'm a doctor, not an engine gopher!"
Another woman poked her head into the frame, grubby with what looked like engine grease in liberal streaks across her face. Her hair shot out spiky dark brown, hit her collarbones, but there was something about her face—"Oh my God, are you kidding me Jim? Of all people, you found us?"
"I claim insanity! It wasn't my fault!"
Bones had no idea how to deal with this. Apparently they were rolling with it—well, they'd rolled with weirder things, like dead Tribbles coming back to life and running from crazy worshippers of a developing religion and pretty much anything Jim stuck his nose into, actually, so this was nothing new.
The dark-haired woman looked into the screen, sighed heavily, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Beam us in, if you can."
"Yeah, Scotty—Scotty, beam 'em up—"
"Your Scotty's still alive?"
Neither woman said anything, but a tightening around their eyes told the crew on the bridge more than any of them wanted to know. The whirling light of the transport circled around the pair of them, and then they were gone.
"Damn, I really am hot," Jim to his other self.
She tossed her head in satisfied acknowledgement. "It's pretty great, right? I mean, look at us."
"Jesus, yes. Like, I would bone us. Bones, would you bone us?" Jim gestured at the space between him and his female self, posturing, eyelashes fluttering and lips stuck out in a pout.
"Never do that again," both Bones' said, voices dry as the Sahara desert. They stopped, looked at each other, and just shook their heads in a mutual shared misery over Jim Kirk's sheer existence. Both Jims grinned smarmily, nudging at each other with their elbows, snickering into their fists like twelve-year-olds who'd just planned the most perfect prank to ever grace the expanse of the universe.
Bones looked at Bones. "I'm so sorry," she said.
"Me, too," Bones sighed.
"Hey, Bones," Jim called.
"What, Jim?" she asked, hip popped out, the blue of her medical shirt stark in the light of the bridge.
"Let's go make out in front of Scotty! He'll never be the same!"
"We did that to our Scotty, stupid, and she never forgave us. Let's not scar all the Scottys in all the universes, okay? That's not nice."
"I think Scotty would enjoy it, actually," Jim said.
"Well, we are pretty hot," Jim nodded, a smirk pulling up her lips. "Especially when we're smooching. Then we're really, really hot."
"Wait, what, you smooch?"
The pair of women turned to blink wordlessly at their male counterparts.
"Um, yes?" Jim said. "We're together? Like, Bones and me, we're, we're—whaddaya call it, we're basically married. But not technically because a Captain can't marry herself. Or at least I don't think we can. Bones, can we?"
Bones rolled her eyes. "We've been over this, Jim. No, I will not marry you unless you have the Commander's permission."
"But she hates me, Bones," Jim whined, clutching at Bones' shoulders. "She hates and she won't let meeeeee—"
The two women continued to squabble, but quietly now, lost in each other. They touched each other absently, Jim bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, mouth moving fast. Bones just looked fondly exasperated, and reached down to cradle Jim's face in her hands. They were smiling at each other the way people in love did, like the rest of the world didn't exist.
Watching yourself kiss your best friend was an interesting experience.
Jim whirled around, eyes wide. "Bones," he said, "Bones, we have to do that."
"Kissing, we are doing the kissing thing, we are doing the kissing thing right now because clearly alternate versions of us are doing the kissing thing and that is just a thin that should happen," Jim said, and then he threw his arms around Bones' neck.
Jim kissed like a forest fire. It was burning hot, all-consuming, a furious fierce thing that ate and ate and ate. Their teeth clicked, and there was pain behind the eyelids, but it was a cleansing thing, clean and bright.
When they finally came up for air, Jim goggled. "Why haven't we been doing that for months?!"
"Because you're boys," the other Jim said. Her hand was curled possessively around her Bones' hip, face pressed into the side of her neck. "You have fun now, kids. Don't forget protection! Can't have little baby Kirk's running around, can we?"
Jim was about to shout something back, but Bones was already pulling him away from them, determinedly dragging him to the sleepblock. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he kept muttering under his breath, over and over, but he wasn't stopping.
Okay, yes, Jim could be down for this.
"G'night, ladies!" he called over his shoulder. "Thanks for the advice!"
But they were gone.
It was like they hadn't been there at all.
notes2: this is definitely not what you asked for at all and i'm sorry.