Title: Ferris Wheels and Funhouse Mirrors
Author: Yami no Kaiba
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Length: 1,581 words

Summary: 6 outtakes from Kirk, Spock, and McCoy's day at the amusement park.
Disclaimers: I do not own the characters or the concepts of Star Trek in any of its forms.
Note: A fill for this prompt here. Thanks to cards_slash for pointing it out.

*---*---5---*---*

Leonard dug his heels in, causing Jim to jerk back. "There is no damn way you're getting me on that thing."

Spock's head cocked to the side, as he studied the wooden rollercoaster. "The conveyance appears to be structurally sound, Doctor. I do not understand your reticence to board it."

"It's made out of wood and thus a match-stick box of death. It's louder than all get out and it loops three times. I've already been sick to my stomach once today thanks to Jim's flying skills. I don't need to throw up again."

Jim turned to him, hands thrown up in the air in exasperation. "Bones! I didn't fly that badly. Now loosen up and have some fun!"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You two can go on, but I'm sitting this one out."

"Oh, come on, Bones, just one little go," Jim wheedled, blue eyes wide and imploring.

"What part of 'no' do you not understand?"

Jim straightens up, all mock seriousness. "Well then, you leave me no choice. Mr. Spock, if you please."

He whirls around, trying to back pedal, "Oh no you -"

Strong nimble fingers on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and the last thing he knows are Jim's hands snaking around his shoulders and waist.

"Ba...star..."

*---*---*

He wakes up groggy to a nauseated stomach, an ache in his neck joint, and the ominous loud clicking of metal spurs locking into place in a familiar, dreadful pattern.

"Captain, I believe the Doctor is coming to -"

"Killing you. Killing you dead..."

"- and, as predicted, threatening our premature demise."

A slap against his back, and an iron bar digs into his abdomen. "Oh, come on Bones! You've got to live a little."

"I live plenty! And I want to live plenty more!" He shouted, and then clutched at the bar and started to scream as the roller coaster pitched forward into a nearly ninety-degree angle to the ground.

Jim was whooping right next to him, arms up in the air. Spock was on his other side with a raised eyebrow, watching the both of them with that expression he got whenever he was silently laughing at them.

*---*---4---*---*

Leonard watched, arms crossed and unimpressed as Jim and Spock competed at a shooting booth.

"I still do not see the relativistic purpose of having these yellow rubber constructs be the target of this event," Spock said, lining up the rifle sight and pulling the trigger.

"It's to simulate duck hunting, Mr. Spock," Jim muttered, no doubt aggravated by Spock's keen accuracy as another rubber ducky was knocked over.

Handing the rifle over, Spock frowned. "I was under the impression that duck hunting involved the killing of the mature specimens of the species."

"It is," Jim replied, lining up a shot and missing.

"Then why are the targets here representations of the adolescent specimens?"

Growling, Leonard replied. "Because it's easier and cheaper to manufacture multiples of one type then two. Because it adds a bit of surrealism to the game by shooting baby ducklings than mallards. Who in blazes cares? It's a game, Spock. Stop dissecting it and just enjoy it already."

Riffle back in hand, Spock sighted and missed as well. "I just wish to point out the inconsistencies of this simulation," Spock stated, handing the riffle back to the booth attendant, who was giving Spock and Jim a sympathetic smile at not winning a prize.

Stepping up to the counter, Leonard passed a credit into the man's hand, and took the riffle back. "What's really inconsistent is that both of you just got suckered," he announced, as he stood the riffle up on the counter and adjusted the crosshairs.

Ignoring Jim's squawk of denial, Leonard hefted the riffle, inserted a bullet into the chamber and pumped the action. Settling the butt against his shoulder, he shifted his feet into a proper stance and sighted down the length.

It was inordinately satisfying when the first yellow duck fell over, for the stunned silence it brought about.

Not two minutes later, and Bones was pointing at a green plush teddy bear after handing the riffle over.

"I do believe you've missed your calling in life, Doctor."

Taking the bear, he shoved it into Spock's startled hands. "No. I haven't missed it at all, you emotionless idiot."

Jim pouted. "I don't get one?"

Leonard grumbled and turned back to the counter, digging into his pockets for more credits. "Fine, you over-grown baby."

*---*---3---*---*

Leonard stuck out his tongue, and grinned as the warped mirror made it look as if it fell to the floor.

Jim laughed, and twirled about in front of another, looking over his shoulder at his own reflection. "Gosh, I never knew how fat my ass was."

"Captain, you know the reflection is erroneous on that account. Why do you persist to believe it to be true?"

"And you know this is supposed to be fun, Mr. Spock. Why do you refuse to have some?"

"Yeah, Spock," Leonard agreed. "Try this one." He pushed Spock in front of another mirror and whistled. "Dang. And here I'd thought you couldn't get any thinner."

"Nor I you, Doctor. However, I do not see what 'fun' is to be had seeing images of ones self as obese or sickly skeletal."

"It's about giving time to think of the what-ifs Mr. Spock. To allow for a moment a flight of fancy. Now, boys, shall we continue?"

Leonard nodded and they walked farther into the funhouse, but paused and turned his head to another mirror.

Jim, noticing, stopped as well. "Something wrong Bones?"

Blinking, he hurried forward to join them. "No, it's nothing."

But that didn't stop him from looking back, and wondering if he'd really seen a reflection of a bearded Vulcan and the glint of excessive gold on three military uniforms.

*---*---2---*---*

"I'm gonna be sick."

"Fascinating."

"You say that one more time, and I'll make sure to puke on your boots."

"But your nauseous reaction to the centripetal force of the contraption we 'rode' induces that observation. It might be linked to your continued aviophobia"

"Jim, please back up. I wouldn't want you to get caught in the explosion."

"Now Bones, it's not his fault we got on that ride."

"Forget what I just said. This is all your fault, so I'm going to puke on you, too."

"That's not fair, Bones. Bones? Bones are you –"

*---*---1---*---*

"This view is amazing," Jim whispered looking out to the horizon.

Spock was rapping his knuckles against the structure. "Why do they continue to call this a Ferris Wheel when it is no longer constructed of iron?"

A bit paranoid, Leonard settled more firmly against the central column of the passenger car. "You might as well ask why they call a skyscraper a skyscraper when it doesn't scrape the sky."

"Come on, Bones, you've got to see this! I think it's an actual purple mountain over there."

Wincing, Leonard brought his knees up against his chest to wrap his arms around. "No. I've already thrown up twice today, I don't need to throw up again, thank you."

Spock blinked and turned away from his inspection of the car's alloys to look down at him. "You have acrophobia as well?"

"No. I have a brain, a solid grounding in Newtonian Physics, and knowledge of how much force it takes to crack a person's skull open. It's a totally different issue all together."

"As we are of sufficient height above the ground at fifteen-degrees adjacent to either side of the main support beam of the wheel to achieve terminal velocity in a fall, I fail to see how your second criteria matters in this instance."

"Oh thank you so much for that knowledge," Leonard growled, gripping his knees tighter.

"Purple mountains! How can you guys be fighting about something as morbid as death by falling when there are purple mountains?"

*---*---0---*---*

Spock's hand trailed in the ankle-deep water. "This is supposed to be a romantic setting?"

Jim, already sans-shirt in the dimly-lit Tunnel of Love, nodded as he inched a hand under Spock's shirt. "One of the most cliché places for making out, Spock."

Leonard flicked water in Jim's direction. "Yeah, it's cliché and sappy. You can tell by the slow music, drifting voyage, how all of the boats are caricatures of a pair of swans, and the ceiling is poked full of holes to simulate stars, even as strands of tinsel and hearts brush against your shoulders. The only setting more clichéd for making out is a bough of holly and mistletoe during a Christmas party."

"You know you love it," Jim teased back, using his other hand to ruffle Leonard's hair.

He smacked it away, then reached out to catch it and lick along the palm, watching avidly the little catch in Jim and Spock's breathing at that. "We're going to have to make this quick, you know. The ride doesn't last long."

"4.23 minutes," Spock stated, reaching out to draw Leonard close.

"Plenty of time," Jim said with a wide smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

Leonard resolved to give back just as many hickies as they were undoubtedly going to bestow on him.

He damn well wasn't going to be the only one that was leaving this tunnel embarrassed.

--Fin.