The Doctor, the Hag, and the AU, or, Bones and the Hallmark Christmas Movie Curse

Chapter 6: Apollo's Dodgeball

Bones makes up some rumours. Spock gets suspicious. Everything in this universe has a stupid name.

Bones walked down the street, hands stuffed in his pockets, grumbling about the large flakes of snow that were falling - seemingly on purpose - down the back of his jacket. He had sat around doing nothing all morning and was unhappy about the waste of time, but he didn't want to risk losing track of Spock. Finally, after hours of waiting, his quarry emerged from his motel room, and Bones tailed him at a distance through the snowy town.

Not only was it cold and snowy, and not only did he waste precious time that he couldn't afford to lose, but he also had no idea what his plan was. He was following Spock, but now what? He hoped he would come up with something soon.

Half a block up the street, oblivious of his follower, Spock stepped into one of the shops. Bones kept walking, noting that it was the coffee shop, which was aptly named 'The Coffee Shop.' He walked past and only stopped when he reached the street corner, where he stood casually against the brick siding of the building, watching the door to The Coffee Shop from the corner of his eye.

He wasn't sure whether Spock would be staying inside for any amount of time, but if he was, Bones didn't want to show up too soon. He meant to wait twenty minutes before following Spock into the store, but after five minutes he decided that it was too cold to just stand around, and if Spock was just stopping in for a moment he would have been out by now.

A row of jingle bells jostled when Bones opened the door to The Coffee Shop. He started to wonder if every business in this town had a make-shift alert system, but instead he changed tactics and wondered if every business in this town was run by his friends, because the aproned barista behind the counter was none other than Uhura. A quick glance around the room was all it took to locate Spock, who was sitting alone at a small table along the wall, engrossed in some archaic, folding computer. Bones decided to order a coffee. It would keep suspicion away from him, and also he was tired as all hell and could use some caffeine.

Uhura turned her attention from cleaning some kind of machine and raised a hand in greeting when he approached the counter. "Hey there," she said with a friendly smile. "What can I get for you?"

"Just a black coffee, thank you," Bones said, deciding that it would probably not be appropriate to get a little extra something added to it when it was only noon.

"Sure thing," Uhura said. As she rang him up she added, "Haven't seen you around town before. Passing through?"

Bones nodded. "Something like that," he answered with a shrug.

She smiled knowingly and gave him a nod. "Stay or to go?"

"Stay, please."

She passed him a ceramic mug of dark coffee. "Enjoy," she said.

"Thank you," Bones nodded to her, and chose a spot where he could keep an eye on Spock. He snagged the daily paper from the modest pile on the magazine rack and sat down, opening it but only pretending to read. He put it down once in a while to sip at his coffee - damn good coffee, it turned out - and used the opportunity to glance over at Spock and run his eyes over the rest of the room. He noticed that Spock showed no signs of moving anytime soon. He also noticed a pair of ancient looking computers at a counter in the corner under a sign that read 'internet.' Interesting.

He returned to pretend-reading the newspaper, wracking his brain for a course of action. He knew that time was of the essence, and nothing was more frustrating than not having any semblance of a plan. With a quiet sigh, he shoved a hand into his pocket to anxiously check the time on the cell phone. A piece of paper fluttered out of his pocket as he withdrew his hand, and he leaned down to pick it up, flipping it over and seeing that it was the scrap of paper with Jim's phone number written on it. Suddenly, he had an idea.

"'Scuse me," he asked, approaching Uhura at the counter. "Could I use one of your computers for a moment?"

"Of course," Uhura said. "First ten minutes of internet is free."

"Great, thank you." He gave her a nod before heading to the computers, choosing one and hoping he could figure out how to operate it.

He had a plan, and this time it didn't even involve attempts at vehicular manslaughter. But he did have to come up with a convincing lie, and that required a little bit of research. When he finally figured out how to bring up an internet browser, he searched for country clubs in the Smalltown area, hoping that he would be able to deduce which one Jim was supposed to be driving to. As it turned out, it was easy, since there was only one country club even remotely close to the town. It was called Big Country Country Club.

"Is nothing named properly in this godforsaken universe?" Bones muttered under his breath. He spent a few more minutes clicking links and skimming pages, but didn't find anything that would help enforce his lie, and decided that he just had to hope that Spock would jump on a chance to investigate a random rumour. He took his chances and left the computers, crossing the shop and sitting in the seat across from Spock without asking if he minded.

Spock's eyes flicked up from his laptop in irritation, and he blinked slowly in recognition. "Can I help you?" He asked, not unkindly but clearly unimpressed with the intrusion.

"You'd rather be investigating something important than write a fluff piece about a small-town ice sculpture competition, right?" He asked, cutting straight to the chase.

"Yes?" Spock answered hesitantly.

"Have you heard the rumours about the country club just out of town? The Big Country Country Club?"

"I have not," Spock said, slowly closing his laptop. "But I'm listening."

"Good, because you're going to want to check this out," Bones said, lowering his voice. "Apparently, the very wealthy owners of the club are in negotiations to bring a big box store to Smalltown. You know, the kind that puts small businesses six feet under."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Smalltown is nothing without its small businesses. A store like that would destroy the town as we know it."

"Exactly!" Bones said, thumping a fist on the table for emphasis, but not too enthusiastically. He didn't want to draw attention.

Spock's brow furrowed in thought. "But if it were true, why haven't the townspeople been vocal about their concerns?" He asked. "I doubt that they would just stand by and watch their livelihoods be destroyed by some corporate conglomerate."

Bones nodded. "Well that's another thing. The negotiations have been under tight wraps, so most people haven't heard a thing about it. And frankly, the rumours that have gotten out are so lacking for evidence that almost everyone who has heard about it thinks it's a hoax."

Spock hummed. "So you want me to investigate baseless rumours that, for all I know, you may have made up yourself minutes ago?" He asked flatly.

Bones struggled to keep his composure. "I don't want you to do anything," he declared calmly, raising his palms. "I'm just the messenger."

"Messenger of what, exactly?"

"That there might be something far more interesting going on around here than a stupid ice sculpture competition," Bones said impatiently, rolling his eyes. "Take it or leave it, I just thought you might want to know."

Spock's jaw tightened as he thought about it for a moment, and Bones could tell by the look on his face that he had been convincing enough. Spock was never one to pass up a challenge, especially from him. But then Spock narrowed his eyes at Bones and asked, "Are you the one who tried to set up a meeting with me early this morning on Ingal's street?"

Shit. "No?" Bones said, sounding far less confident than he meant to.

Spock glared at him for a while longer, and Bones thought that he was busted, but eventually Spock sighed. "Does this town have a taxi service? I suppose I have the time to do some investigating this afternoon."

Bingo. "No taxis," Bones said, unsure if that was even correct. "But I know a guy who's making a delivery there this afternoon," he took out the scrap of paper and slapped it down on the table, pushing it towards Spock with his fingertips. "He'd be glad to give you a lift."

Spock examined the piece of paper, then regarded Bones with skepticism for a moment. "Right. Thank you for this," he said, tucking the paper into his coat.

"Not a problem," Bones said, taking out his cellphone and pretending to check the time. "I gotta go," he lied, getting up. "Good luck."

The door jingled again as Bones walked out into the cold air. It was still snowing. He walked down the street until he was out of view of the coffee shop window, then stopped to catch his breath and wait for his heartbeat to slow down, muttering grumpily to himself. "I can't believe that pointy-eared bastard is on to me already."

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