Chapter Text
“Wait. Are we actually going to stay in that place?”
Jim stopped and turned to look at Bones. Then he glanced back at the two story house in front of them. It was one of those old Victorian types that could be found all over San Francisco. Even now. Some were gone, sure, torn down and replaced by modern computerized homes. Not all though.
“Yep. That’s all part of the retreat, Bones. Stay in this place for a week.” Jim held up the paper brochure and wiggled it at his friend. “Spend a week in a haunted Victorian house. Get in the autumn spirit. Meditation, teas, walks in the rose garden, becoming one with yourself.”
“It actually says that?” Bones asked with a frown.
Jim smiled. “More or less.”
“Whose idea was this again?”
“The Starfleet Chess Club agreed. By a majority vote.” Jim put his suitcase down on the asphalt in front of the house and peered at the structure. “It doesn’t look haunted.”
“What did you expect? Bats in the windows and cobwebs hanging from the eaves?”
“Would be more atmospheric. That’s more interesting. You aren’t supposed to use communicators or PADDs while here either.”
“That’s so that when the murderer comes for you, you can’t call for help,” Bones cracked. “I don’t know how I got talked into joining that staid old club.”
“Does this look staid?” Jim smiled. The house did look very old and was painted in black and purple. That part did look a bit spooky. But if this place had actual hauntings he’d eat Professor Spock’s hat.
Speaking of, Jim glanced back to see Spock standing on the opposite side of the street going through a list and surrounded by other members of the chess club.
Bones followed his gaze and groaned. “Don’t remind me. This whole thing is because of your stupid crush on that Vulcan who happens to head the chess club. I don’t even like chess.”
“I couldn’t join by myself.”
“Why the hell not? You’re a big boy, Jim.”
Jim shifted awkwardly. “I know, but, come on, Bones. You’re my wingman.”
“And because of that I have to stay at Spook Central for a week.”
Jim grinned and patted Bones’ arm. “It’ll be fun. I doubt the place is haunted.” He glanced at the brochure. “One of the ghosts is supposed to be the original owner.”
“Oh yeah?” Bones smirked. “You’re probably right though. I doubt Professor Stick-Up-His-Ass would actually choose this place if it was haunted. Too illogical. And that whole part about ‘meditation’ has Spock written all over it.”
“Spock didn’t suggest this idea, Sulu did.”
“Figures.”
“Lily Partridge.”
“Who is that? One of the other chess members?” Bones asked, absently, while studying his PADD. He had slung the strap of his duffle bag over his shoulder.
“No, the original owner.” Jim read the brochure. He’d actually read it several times now. The whole thing was pretty cool if hogwash. Now he sounded like Bones. “She haunts the downstairs parlor.”
“Downstairs? How many parlors are there?”
He shrugged. “Think there’s an upstairs one. These old houses were fancy.”
Bones peered at him. “Why does she haunt it?”
“Her son-in-law stabbed her to death there. Supposed to be able to see the bloodstains still.”
“They didn’t clean it?” Bones asked.
“No, no of course. They’re haunted bloodstains.”
“Oh brother.”
“Gentlemen. Cadet Kirk. Cadet McCoy.”
Jim had been so busy reading the brochure he had missed Spock’s approach. Now the Vulcan stood tall and austere in front of them. His pulse quickened and his tongue tied.
“Uh.”
Bones looked at him wide-eyed over that smart response. He couldn’t blame him.
“We will be checking into the establishment shortly. Prior to entry you will need to turn over your PADDS and communicators to me for the duration of the stay.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“That is the requirement of the house staff, Cadet McCoy. You did agree when you signed the waiver.”
“And that’s another thing. I don’t like having to sign a waiver just to stay at a bed and breakfast. What are they playing at?”
“The experience of being haunted by the afterlife, I presume. They claim it interferes with spiritual vibes. Their intent is to provide groups such as us a fun-filled adventure during the month of October.”
Jim smiled. “That’s from the brochure.”
“I’m going to be bored silly.” Bones crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’m a scientist, I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“Then it’s all good and you’ll just have a relaxing, stress-free time,” Jim told him. “Meditating and having tea.”
“Sure, stress-free while I watch out for Mrs. Peabody.”
“Partridge.”
“In a pear tree. Whatever.” Bones rolled his eyes.
“All good clean fun.”
“Clean with blood stains on the floor?”
“Oh for…” Jim stopped and looked at Spock who was staring blankly at them. Great, now he was stuck listening to the two of them bickering like an old married couple. He could only imagine what Spock thought of them.
Spock held out his hands. “Communicators and PADDs, please. No exceptions.”
Jim handed his to Spock, trying to avoid his gaze.
“I’m not handing over my medical equipment,” his friend said, stubbornly. “I have to be prepared for injuries.” He gestured with his thumb to Jim. “Especially with him around.”
“Very well.”
“What happens if someone is so traumatized by the Partridge family in there they want out before the week’s up?” Bones asked Spock as he handed him his equipment.
“If they find the place too much for their delicate constitution they can come to me and I will arrange for their departure.” Spock stuffed their equipment in a bag and moved on to another group.
“That’s plain enough,” Bones muttered bitterly. “If you’re a coward and a dunderhead, he’ll give you the okay to leave.”
Jim sighed. “I’m kind of sorry I did talk you into this. You could at least try to have fun.”
“Oh I am trying.”
Jim turned away from him, glanced at Spock as he spoke to Uhura and another female cadet he couldn’t remember the name of. Figured they’d come along too. Everyone had a crush on Spock.
As he turned back toward the house, he spotted the fluttering of a curtain on the third floor and couldn’t help wondering who was watching them.