Blessed Boots

Leonard McCoy had thought that that time in Yosemite had been the first and the last time Spock had to rescue one of his friends with his rocket boots. Then again, he had also thought that Jim was the only one of them with the penchant for throwing himself off cliffs. He was proven otherwise. He had scoffed at Spock when he had visited the Vulcan to depart for Shore leave: "You sure you need those boots? That planet's as moist as Georgia during monsoon, you'll get your Vulcan feet stuck in the mud. Besides, no one's gonna throw themselves off a cliff this time. I'll see to that", not knowing that he would indeed be proven wrong in due time.

The planet whose only name was one of those ungodly long numbers was indeed as humid and rainy as Leonard remembered his home to be. Or at least the vacation spot McCoy had chosen for him, Spock, and Jim was. They were staying in a small but warm wood-cabin, designed old fashioned but without the lacking insulation and heating, a combination that satisfied McCoy immensely. When they beamed down, the rain was falling hard and the swelling river hugging the nearby cliff roared deafeningly. Despite the weather (which wasn't going to improve by Spock's calculations), they decided to explore the area around them, focussing on the cliffside and the river. It was a beautiful sound, thought McCoy, as the three friends watched the roaring stream.

"What a sight, eh Bones?" said Jim from behind him, voicing his thoughts.

"Yeah it is, reminds me of the Colorado River, just colder."

Smiling reminiscently he began to turn to Spock, glancing at his shoes.

"Nice, eh? You plannin' to get a good view with your Marty McFly equipment, Spock?"

He couldn't finish the sentence and the jesting question became a cry for help as he lost his footing, tumbling backwards over the cliff.

"Spock!"

He could just hear or imagine, the faint sound of starting boosters as he entered the water and the auditory world was dampened and replaced with the dull, cold feeling of deep water. Both the Doctors feeling of relief at falling at least from a smaller cliff and his impending panic at the swirling masses around him however were interrupted instantly as he was suddenly jerked upwards by his collar. Breaching the surface, he instinctively gasped for air, barely realising he was out of the water as he was rising above the surface, not knowing what the hell was going on. His squirming then was interrupted by a calm, baritone voice and a sharp stop in the ascent.

"I would not advise resisting my attempt to rescue you, Doctor."

McCoy stared at Spock who was hovering in front of him in mid-air. It was then that he realised that it was Spock who had pulled him up by the collar and that he was being held like a wet puppy by an almost smiling Vulcan in mid-air. His protest, however, was cut short, as Spock's blessed boots gave a stutter, sending both of them falling back towards the water and him unceremoniously falling towards Spock, holding on to the Vulcan for dear life. They were instantly yanked upwards again, as Spock had restarted the protesting boots, and flying towards the cliff from which Jim was watching anxiously.

"The boots seem to have taken damage by the rain and the river water. Your rescue could end in a hard landing."

"You don't say," McCoy growled into Spock's neck, glaring furiously at the Vulcan's earlobe as they approached the cliff with stuttering jolts. Thankfully, Spock had shot them up high enough on their second ascent, so that the constant loss of height wasn't as serious.

McCoy sighed relieved as he saw the rim of the cliff pass several meters beneath them. Spock continued their more or less controlled descent towards the cabin, arms around McCoy. They had reached a decreasing altitude of roughly two meters halfway between the cliff and the cabin when the stuttering sound of the mistreated boots stopped abruptly.

Barely having time to worry, McCoy landed with an ungraceful "Oomph" sprawled on top of Spock who had turned quickly to soften their fall.

"Are you all right, Doctor?"

"Yeah, think so, thanks, Spock," McCoy answered quickly while Jim approached with wheezing breath.

"Jesus, Jim, I need to see you for a physical if you're out of breath from such a short distance," Leonard announced as he was unceremoniously scrambling down from his friend and standing up shakily, Spock doing the same with all his inert Vulcan grace.

But Jim's breathing was growing even more erratic by his statement and Leonard noticed far too late that Jim was laughing at them. Throwing him a half-amused look, Leonard turned around and stormed towards the cabin, his friends with him.

That evening, as they were settled in front of the fire, McCoy curled up in a soft blanket between his two friends and each of them a whiskey before them, he saw it fit to address the afternoon's event properly.

"I'm glad you brought your wretched boots, Spock. Thank you."

He smiled softly at Spock who acknowledged the thanks with a nod.

"You're welcome, Doctor. They have served me, and you, well."

"Indeed they have, Spock," Leonard grinned, remembering the last times.

"Just a pity they won't be around when it's your turn to jump off a cliff"

"I will do no such thing Doctor," answered Spock reproachfully, but smirked timidly at them as they sat in silence, watching the embers glow.