blue flamingos

Mix It Up

Fandom: Star Trek/Stargate Atlantis

Category/Rated: Slash, PG-13

Year/Length: 2010/ ~2764 words

Pairing: John Sheppard/Jim Kirk, Teyla Emmegan/Nyota Uhura, Leonard McCoy

Spoilers: Pre-Reboot movie (Star Trek); no spoilers for SGA

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them, for which I should think they're profoundly grateful.


Summary: Five Starfleet Academy students in a bar, with unresolved sexual tension and alcohol. Sounds like the start to a bad joke


Author's Notes: for xela_fic in the Multi Fandom Crossover Exchange

Beta: Many thanks to fyrefly101 for being an awesome beta.

Prompts: A little bit of each of these themes: obliviously (yet obviously) in love with each other, significant other meeting the over protective best friend (from a different show); she also said she really liked OT3s

Feedback: Yes please. Even if it's bad. Especially if it's bad.


"You'll like him," Jim promised, following McCoy out of the infirmary and missing the doubtful face McCoy made.

"I haven't liked any of your friends yet," McCoy pointed out.

"That's not true. You like Angela."

"Angela's your ex-girlfriend."

"And now my friend. We had dinner last week and we didn't even sleep together." Jim ducked around two students, one of them holding a bloody bandage to a forehead gash that McCoy pretended not to see, and gave McCoy his most charming grin, even though it never worked. "But you'll like John."

McCoy frowned, watching eagerness edge into Jim's expression, more so than he usually saw when Jim was trying to get him to go out and be young and reckless. "What's so special about him?" he asked suspiciously.

Which was confirmed when Jim shrugged, all false innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."


Jim grinned, unrepentant. "Just come out. One drink. I promise, I'll let you be a grumpy hermit for a week without saying one word."

Anything that would make Jim make that promise had to be seen. "One drink," McCoy confirmed firmly.


"You'll like him," Jim had said, adjusting the collar of his uniform jacket in John's mirror. John, bent over tying his boots, had made a doubtful face that Jim had somehow seen anyway. "You will," he'd insisted. "Bones is like you, except if you did the whole no talking thing by griping at the world instead."

"Griping?" John had asked, since that was the only part of that statement he'd been willing to touch, and from there it had been a few short steps to standing outside Mars, trying to come up with a good excuse for being late. One that didn't include I was trying to think of a good reason not to turn up, because being involved enough that we're at meeting the best friend level freaks me out, which Rodney had mocked him soundly for.

"You planning on going in, or you just going to stand there and block the way?" asked a familiar voice.

John turned, unsurprised to find McCoy glaring, though the glare eased slightly when he realized who John was. "Sorry, Doc."

McCoy huffed at him, then, apparently overcome with some kind of latent Southern politeness, said, "Sheppard. Still in one piece?"

"Give it time," John said cheerfully. No getting out of going in with McCoy hovering. He pulled the door open, was hit with the warmth inside, but no loud music, yet. "After you."

The lights were mostly still up – apparently the bar didn't turn into a club proper until later – and he could see Jim at a corner booth, leaning on one hand and smiling up at a woman with her back to them. "You meeting someone?" he asked McCoy, meaning to extend an invitation to join him and Jim until Jim's even-later-than-John friend showed.

"Yeah," McCoy said. He hesitated, then asked, "You want to..."

John did, but it wasn't like the place was big enough to avoid Jim. "No, my friend's already here. Thanks."

McCoy nodded, started off in the same direction John was going, stopping after a few steps to give John a weird look. "I'm not following you," John promised.

McCoy made a sarcastic gesture. "After you, then."

Jim looked up a moment later, his flirtatious smile turning a little more genuine when he saw John, then twitching into a frown. John still didn't get it, not until Jim said, "You met already?"

John looked at McCoy, who was looking at him. "We did?"

"You're Bones," John said, not sure if it was a question or not.

"And you're Jim's John."

John shrugged, not at all sure he wanted to be described like that, even if it was true for the purposes of this conversation.

The woman Jim had been flirting with laughed. "In that case, I think you definitely should not be buying me a drink."

"Oh, I don't know," Jim said, grinning at her. She rolled her eyes slightly, looking amused. "This could be the best entertainment you've seen all week."


"Okay, him I understand," Jim said, when the four of them were settled in the booth, the woman introduced as Teyla Emmagan, a diplomatic track candidate a year ahead of McCoy and Jim. "Because, you know, Bones, but how did you not realize you knew John?"

"John being so uncommon a name," McCoy pointed out, not sure if he was annoyed or not. Sheppard was slouched in the corner of the booth, watching the rest of them with a faintly amused expression, but he was also leaning slightly into Jim, clearly more than just a friend.

McCoy didn't really want to think about why that was annoying.

He'd met Sheppard as the on-site medic for the second year flight practice, when Sheppard hadn't quite pulled out of a controlled crash in time, and had spent a couple of days in the infirmary as a result. He'd tried to escape three times, and grinned charmingly every time McCoy caught him and chased him back into bed.

"Admit it, Doc," he'd said the third time, "You like the chase."

"I like you in bed where you belong," McCoy had said, before he realized what that sounded like, and Sheppard had raised an eyebrow, like an invitation.

McCoy had intended to be there when Sheppard was discharged, but he'd ended up on a surprise trip into space instead. Apparently Jim, who'd been right there with him, hadn't found that a problem.

Jim shrugged. "Good thing we've got you to talk about then," he said, smiling at Emmagan.

She smiled serenely back. "I'm sure you have other things to discuss." McCoy could see how she'd wound up diplomatic track. "Tell me: is it true that you were injured attempting to scale the outside of the great hall in your first week?"

"Hey!" Jim said, defensive, then, when McCoy and Sheppard both turned disbelieving glares on him, "It was more like my third week."

"Because that's so much better," Sheppard muttered dryly.

"You held the record for most infirmary stays your whole first year," Jim said, rounding on him. Sheppard's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Yeah, you're not the only one with sources."

Sheppard rolled his eyes, took a swallow of his beer, and McCoy decided maybe he was annoyed at Jim for some of the same reasons he was annoyed at Sheppard – he liked Jim pretty much all the time, but definitely best when he was like this, relaxed and at ease, charming everyone around him, even when none of them were fooled for a second.

Much later, Sheppard and Emmagan were involved in what seemed like a heavy debate about something that had apparently come up in the huge ethics lecture they hadn't realized they shared, their heads together over their empty glasses. McCoy leaned back in the booth, which put him in the perfect position to mutter to Jim, who was watching the two of them with warm, happy eyes. "Could have mentioned you're sleeping with him before introducing us."

"I didn't introduce you," Jim pointed out smugly, looking at McCoy from the corner of his eye. McCoy just stared back until he caved with a shrug. "You could have told me you want to."

"I don't -" McCoy started, but Jim slanted his own version of McCoy's own flat glare at him. "Fine. You met him first."

Jim smiled again, but there was something uncomfortably like sympathy at the edges. "If you weren't so insistent on being the old man hermit of the Academy..."

McCoy was fully intending to say something cutting and witty in response to that, or at least cutting, since he'd lost count of how much he'd drunk at least two glasses ago, but he was stopped by Emmagan looking up and waving.

Jim, of course, twisted in the booth to see who she was waving at, his smile morphing into a full on, shark-like grin. "Cadet Uhura!" he called, and McCoy groaned.


"Oh," Emmagan said, breaking off in the middle of her sentence and looking over to the door of the bar, "Excuse me, my girlfriend is here."

John had figured, from the way she talked about Ronon Dex, who was in her advanced hand to hand class, that she was seeing him, so the girlfriend was a mild surprise. Less surprising was the fact that the woman she waved over was easily one of the most attractive women in the bar. Even when, on Jim's shout of, "Cadet Uhura," her face fell into a frown.

"One bar fight over a girl wasn't enough for you?" she asked when she got close enough. She didn't wait for an answer, slipping onto Emmagan's lap and kissing her.

"At least she told me her first name," Jim said.

Uhura shrugged, picking up Emmagan's glass and looking disappointed to find it empty. "I suppose she can't be brilliant all the time."

Emmagan smiled, tightening her arm around Uhura's waist. "As long as I can be brilliant most of the time."

"You're seeing me," Uhura said cheerfully. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Let me," Emmagan said, easing Uhura onto the bench seat next to John, who shuffled over quickly – Uhura's skirt was very short, and he was pretty sure Emmagan could break several important bones if he looked like he was feeling up her girlfriend. "Cadet Kirk, would you lend me a hand?"

Jim looked like he really wanted to say no, but McCoy was already on his feet, letting Jim slide out, so he went, snagging John's empty beer bottle almost as an afterthought.

"So," McCoy said when they'd melted into the crowd. "Girlfriend."

"Girlfriend," Uhura confirmed, not looking bothered by the question. Though, if she knew Jim, she probably knew McCoy, who didn't seem like he really bothered with tact. "We haven't met," she added, turning to John and holding out a hand. "Uhura."

"No first name?" John asked.

She gave him a long look, sizing him up. "I would, but then you might tell Kirk."

"And it's a state secret?" John guessed.

Uhura smiled at that. "No, I just like to annoy him."

"A worthwhile goal," McCoy agreed.

Uhura nodded solemnly. "And you don't even have a last name?"

"Sorry," John said reflexively. "Sheppard. John. John Sheppard."

"You're sure?" Uhura teased, making McCoy crack a smile.

"Fairly," John agreed, trying not to be distracted by McCoy's smile. He'd fallen into bed with Jim the same night they met, bonding over how much the Fleet Academy football team sucked that year, but Jim wouldn't have been such a sure thing if John had met McCoy first. John had always had a thing for grumpy and sullen; it was the only explanation for Rodney's presence in his life.

"Well, let me know if you change your mind," she said.

"Changes his mind about what?" Jim asked, touching the back of John's neck with the cold bottle, then handing it over. "If we're talking about sex, I demand to be included."

"Of course that's where Jim Kirk's mind naturally goes," Uhura said as John said, "In the conversation or the sex?"

"Both?" Jim nudged McCoy, who glared, but stood up, letting Jim slide back into the booth first, winding up between John and McCoy. Both Emmagan and Uhuru were watching them with curious eyes, Uhura holding an alarming looking drink in red, yellow and green stripes.

"What is that?"

She took a long sip, the colors swirling together then separating again. "Slusho mix. It's really good."

"It looks like a children’s party favor," John said.

Emmagan swiped it from Uhura's hand and took a sip. "I would not give it to any child in my care – it is around 40% proof."

John whistled, his respect for Uhura shooting up.

"And yet she still never sleeps with me after she's had a couple," Jim moaned.

"Would you sleep with you if you could be sleeping with her?" Uhura asked, draping her arm around Emmagan's neck. John wasn't sure if it was the sentence structure or the image, but that actually shut Jim up. John hadn't thought anything other than sex could do that.

And sometimes not even then.


Emmagan and Uhura excused themselves after one drink, and left hand in hand, which meant McCoy was, once again, the only person who wouldn't be having sex that night, whatever Jim kept saying about how he was, "totally going back to the dorm with you to study, Bones, I'm serious."

McCoy rather thought the hand he had on Sheppard's thigh spoke a little more sincerely to his intentions for the evening, especially since John had his own room, after his room-mate washed out at the end of his first year.

"She's nice," Jim said. "We should invite her out with us more often."

"You're just hoping she'll bring along Uhura," McCoy said, swallowing the last of his drink and preparing to leave. "And get her drunk enough to tell you her name."

"You suspect my motives of being less than pure and shiningly wholesome?" Jim asked, hand on his chest, eye lashes fluttering.

"Not so much suspect as know for damn certain," McCoy corrected. "And with that, gentlemen -"

"No, hey, wait." Jim caught his arm before he could stand all the way up and pulled him back down onto the seat, apparently impervious to the glare McCoy turned on him. He planned for it to include Sheppard as well, just on general principle, but Sheppard had his head ducked, focusing intently on the empty bottle in his hands. Even so, he was giving off an air of abashed shyness that made McCoy curious. "Wait, don't, I mean..." Jim trailed off, squeezed McCoy's arm. His other hand was still on Sheppard's thigh.

"You mean what?" McCoy asked. "Spit it out."

"I mean, don't go back to the dorm. Come back to John's room with us. He has a big bed."

"I, er," McCoy said dumbly. Well, that did explain why Sheppard looked so nervous. "How big?" he asked, for want of anything more intelligent to say.

"More than big enough for three grown men to have sex in," Jim said cheerfully. "Trust me, we've tried it."

McCoy wasn't sure whether he was insulted at not being the first guy they'd invited into bed with them, or flattered that, even after trying out someone else, they wanted him. "Glad to know I rate high enough to come in, what, second, third?"

"Second," Jim said, grinning. "Or, what, you'd have preferred being the trial run? Because I have to tell you, even with an ace pilot, an engineer and, you know, me, that was not a raging success."

"Way to talk him into it," Sheppard muttered, but he was looking up now, his eyes bright with interest and amusement when they caught McCoy's and held for a long moment.

"Bones is a smart man," Jim said confidently. "He doesn't need to be talked into sex with his hot best friend and his hot best friend's hot boyfriend."

"So modest," Sheppard and McCoy said in concert.

Jim looked between them, then shrugged. "Okay, well, that was freaky on a number of levels. Though also curiously hot."

McCoy imagined keeping that timing in bed, and couldn't really disagree. "So, what, this is a one time only deal?" he asked.

Jim shrugged. "One time, several times, many times. Whatever, dude. I'm flexible."

"Yeah, and I've got the horrifying mental images of you and Kalira etched on my brain in permanent reminder."

"Well, if you'd knocked..."

"I live there! You could have at least locked the door."

Sheppard started laughing, pressing his hand to his mouth when Jim and McCoy both turned to glare at him. "Sorry, you just..."

"Sound like an old married couple?" McCoy suggested. He wouldn't be the first one to say it, in the six months he and Jim had known each other.

"Something like that," Sheppard agreed, still smiling. "So, yes or no? Because if we're not going to have sex, I've got a test I could be studying for."

"Oh well, if the other alternative is studying on a Friday night, I feel like it's my civic duty to keep you from such a fate," McCoy said, deadpan.

"Taking one for the team," Jim said, nodding sagely. "Good man."

"Just one?" McCoy asked, amused when it made Sheppard blush.

"One, several," Jim repeated with a shrug. "I'm -"

"Flexible," the three of them said together.


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