When the orders came through for Doctor Leonard McCoy, one copy went to the Captain and one to the Doctor himself. At the first reading, McCoy reacted badly, leaving behind puzzled staff members as he went into his office and, as happened only rarely, locked the door before he dropped into his chair.
Once seated, he pulled up to his desk and re-read the orders again very slowly. He had no way of knowing what the intent was for ordering him off of the Enterprise and onto Starbase 12 for three months, but he knew what it felt like. He was being punished for keeping Jim alive. Or rather, for bringing him back from the dead. He wouldn't have changed what he did for anything, but it seemed to keep sending ripples through his life.
Now he had only two days before he would have to leave everyone and everything he knew behind. Again. Worst was being forced to leave his best friend. Sure, Jim could make a saint swear, but that was part of his charm. Not that McCoy would admit that to him under torture. Jim already thought he was a divine gift to all seeing and breathing life forms. A slight frown formed as he thought about his friend - more than a friend, if he was being honest. Jim had been a bit distant of late, but McCoy attributed a lot of that to Pike's death - Jim had lost the closest thing to a real father that he'd ever had.
He read the orders through yet again, but McCoy held out the hope that Jim could convince them that someone else could do the exams needed on the Starbase. Hell, over half of his nursing staff was qualified to do diagnostics of that level. It was hardly a job that should have called for a CMO to leave his ship. As he was closing out his PADD, a call came over the intercom telling him to report to the Captain's quarters. Rising, a smile reformed on the doctor's face. Maybe Jim wanted to discuss the orders - ask who would actually be the best one for the assignment.
When the door slid open to allow McCoy to enter, the first two things he saw weren't what he expected to find in Jim's quarters. One - Spock was in the room at Jim's side. Two - Jim was sporting a huge smile as he came over to slap McCoy on the shoulder.
Before McCoy could even say a word, Jim was congratulating him on the assignment to the Starbase and telling him what a great time he was going to have. His smile back was a bit on the weak side, but Jim never seemed to notice and, as the shock slowly faded, McCoy's heart twisted in a pain that had nothing to do with its physical condition. Jim didn't mind that he was going away. Hell, Jim seemed thrilled as hell that he was going to be gone for three months.
The stateroom was warm, but McCoy felt a deep chill as all thoughts about avoiding the posting fled. McCoy just kept smiling back numbly, nodding at Jim's enthusiastic chatter until an opening came and he could request to return to his own quarters to get ready.
As soon as he arrived back in Sickbay, McCoy called his staff together and made such arrangements as he felt necessary to cover the three months he would be gone. It didn't improve his mood when one of the nurses whispered to another, wondering what the doctor had done to get the Captain so mad at him that he'd transfer him off-ship.
Nothing was right after that. Over the next two days, the meals McCoy usually shared with Jim were eaten alone as 'Captain's business' seemed to crop up whenever McCoy was headed to the mess. He became aware of the puzzled attention of other crewmembers, but none of them approached him and he didn't approach them either. McCoy preferred eating at a small table by himself than trying to fake his way through pleasantries. He ate his last two meals in his quarters when he saw Jim coming into the mess area with Spock as he was getting ready to leave. It was obvious then - it wasn't meals that Jim was avoiding, Just meals with him.
Arrival at Starbase 12 was announced with just a short order over the comm system for McCoy to report to the Transporter room. Any lingering hope that he might be missed at least a little was erased when he entered the room. Not a soul was there to see him off except for Scott. Hell, he probably wouldn't have been there if he hadn't needed to operate the panel.
Looking up as the door closed behind the doctor, Scott gave him a grin.
"Best make it quick over there. We'll be leaving back out as soon as the supplies are transported over."
It took McCoy off-guard as he realized that Scott didn't know what was going on. He managed to force a return smile on his face.
"I'm staying here, Scotty. Orders. I'm assigned to Starbase 12 for the next three months."
Scott's mouth dropped open and his own eyes automatically went toward the door. He then tried to cover by offering McCoy his hand.
"I . . well, this is a bit unexpected. Hurry back, Doc. You'll be missed."
Shifting his gear, McCoy reached out and took the extended hand.
"Thanks, Scotty."
Glancing back toward the door himself, McCoy tried to hide his disappointment, but from Scott's sympathetic expression, did a poor job of it. Taking a firm hold of his gear, McCoy went to the platform, closing his eyes to brace for the unwelcome sensations that always accompanied teleports.
"Energizing."
It didn't take long on Starbase 12 for McCoy to be grateful that he hadn't inflicted this assignment on any of his staff. The base commander, Admiral Fitzpatrick, embodied everything McCoy disliked in an officer. He ran the base like a self-important petty tyrant and McCoy's only goal was to make it through the three months without getting himself court-martialed.
At the end of his third day on the starbase, McCoy made his way to his assigned room and half-collapsed on the bed. The Admiral seemed determined to squeeze as much work out of him as possible during the three months. He had been assigned to a port and starboard schedule - twelve hours on, twelve hours off. No days off and he would be expected to forego his twelve hours off in case of emergency.
Rubbing his head in an attempt to stave off a headache, McCoy knew he needed to grab some sleep, but first he reached for his PADD. He typed out a short message to Jim, frowned and edited it. He didn't want to come off as whining. Erasing the complaints about the Admiral, he read over the message again.
~Jim. They're keeping me busy here, so hopefully that means the three months will pass by quickly. Never thought I'd say I miss a starship, but I do. Miss you and the rest of the crew as well, but I know Palmer will keep an eyes on everything there. Leonard~
On second review, he removed the part about missing Jim, thinking it came across as kind of demanding. He rephrased it as ~Miss the crew, but I know Palmer will take good care of all of you.~
Satisfied, he sent the message, then settled down to grab some sleep before starting his next shift.
It was the end of the first week before the response from Jim came back. McCoy opened the message eagerly, but his mood dropped as he read the very brief message.
~Don't worry about things here - every thing is running smoothly.~
That was it. Didn't even call him 'Bones' in it. Hell, didn't even call him McCoy. The PADD was dropped onto the bed as McCoy ordered the lights to dim.
Being the type of temperament he was, it was inevitable that McCoy began to brood as he stretched out on his bed. It was all his own fault, of course. Jim had matured - well, sort of. He didn't need 'Bones' to keep mother-henning him all of the time. Probably sick to death of him always being around like a pesky hound.
That last thought made him swallow hard. Yeah. That was it. Jim had loads of folks to hang out with now. Hell, even Nyota didn't snark at him anymore - much. What the hell did he need with a world-worn doctor? He'd worn out his welcome - hadn't Jim already been pulling away? It didn't matter that he still needed Jim. Jim no longer needed - or wanted - him. His mind flashed back to Spock being in Jim's room. Spock and Jim taking their meals together with no Nyota in sight.
That made more sense now - he should have seen that Spock had taken his place as Jim's best friend when Jim had turned to Spock when he'd woken back up after the infusion of Khan's blood. Damn - how blind had he been that he didn't see that writing on the wall?
After the one-line message from Jim, McCoy didn't send another. He didn't think he could bear to receive another impersonal response like that. The twelve on, twelve off schedule began to wear on him both mentally and physically as the crew of the starbase considered any number of things to be worthy of breaking into his off time over. Everything from a broken limb, which was understandable, to marriage counseling, which was not., He was divorced, for God's sake. What the hell made them think he could tell anyone else how to make a marriage work?
At halfway through the three months, McCoy startled awake from an exhausted slumber as it hit him. Moaning as he sat up, he dropped his head into his hands. He was so screwed. He'd fallen in love with that damn brilliant, impulsive, allergy-ridden, beautiful infant that was his Captain.
Had Jim realized his feelings before he had himself? No wonder Jim had been so happy to send him away. Jim probably thought it was kinder than telling him that he wasn't interested. Both the shock of his realization and exhaustion had McCoy trembling as he eased back down onto his bed. He slept without resting, looking worse than his patients as he made his rounds during his shift.
The doctor managed to keep his focus on his work until the end of the shift, but once he was by himself again, his thoughts returned to the Enterprise. Now that he had admitted to himself how he felt about Jim, how could he go back? Being onboard and watching Spock and Jim side by side? It would be like moving in next door to his ex-wife and watching her with another man. No, it would be worse. The feelings he'd had for her were dead and gone. He was a long way from being over Jim.
By the end of the second month, McCoy was putting out feelers to Starfleet to see if there were any colony worlds needing a doctor. After all, Palmer apparently had everything well in control on the Enterprise, so there was no reason why he couldn't slide into the CMO position. The transition had already happened in everything but name. He was rather surprised that the names of other starships came up, but he couldn't imagine putting his faith behind another Captain or crew. No, if he wasn't on the Enterprise, he didn't want to be on a starship. Starbases held even less appeal than starships did. At least a starship had the possibility of a change of scenery.
McCoy was contacted by one of the upper echelon at Starfleet Medical and flatly told that if he was jockeying for a position back on Earth that he was going about it the wrong way. He listened to the man's rant politely before responding.
"In case you hadn't noticed, sir? I haven't even asked about any Earth postings. In fact, if I were offered one, I'd turn it down."
He had a hard time keeping a straight face when the Admiral's mouth literally fell open in shock.
"By God - you're serious, aren't you?"
"If you check my record from the Academy, sir, I think you'll find that I wasn't known for pranks."
"Very well then. There are colony worlds looking for medical teams, but this will need to be cleared with your Captain first."
"Understood, sir. I don't imagine that will be an obstacle."
"Carry on with your duties on Starbase 12. I'll be back in touch."
"Aye, sir."
Week ten came and went. Coming off of his seventy-third day in a row of duty, McCoy was too tired to even think about eating. His only desire was to reach his bed and try to get as much uninterrupted sleep as he could during his twelve hours. He was halfway to the bed before he realized he wasn't the only one in the room. He stopped breathing and wondered if he'd hit the point of exhaustion where hallucinations began. It had to be a hallucination because there was no way Jim would actually be sitting on his bed, looking at him like a kicked puppy.
He hadn't taken a good look at himself in the mirror, but from the way Jim's expression changed almost immediately to one of concern and worry, McCoy figured he must look pretty rough. It was that shifting expression that convinced him that Jim sitting there wasn't a mirage. The silence stretched in minutes as the two of them looked at one another until McCoy finally looked down and spoke.
"You're back early."
A smile tried to form on Jim's face, but died before it fully formed.
"I got permission to return. You - Bones? Why do you want to leave - leave us?"
For a second, McCoy thought that Jim had been about to say 'leave me'. Maybe he was still on the verge of hallucinations.
"It's time for me to move on. Besides, Palmer's got everything running well. You guys won't even know I'm gone except for the quiet."
The lack of response caused him to look at Jim. The Captain's eyes were closed and he was slowly shaking his head. Then, as if sensing he was being watched, the blue eyes snapped back open and he rose.
"Palmer? The only reason Sickbay hasn't imploded has been because Chapel has been sedating Palmer when he starts having a panic attack. He might be fine when he's following your orders during an emergency, but he can't handle it when he's the one being asked to make the decisions."
The frown formed slowly on McCoy's face.
"You told me everything was going smoothly."
Jim suddenly found one of the walls to be terribly interesting, then he let out a heavy sigh.
"I lied. A lot. I tried to fight this assignment and was told you were going regardless. I didn't want to make it harder for you than it already had to be."
"Trust me. You made it plenty easy for me to leave."
The wince Jim gave told McCoy a lot, but then he remembered the rest and walked by Jim to get to his bed, sitting down heavily.
"You know what, Jim? It doesn't really matter anymore. I can't go back and you wouldn't want me back."
He felt rather than saw Jim sit down beside him.
"I don't think you know what I want if you think I wouldn't want my best friend back with me."
"Jim, it's more complicated than that."
"How complicated can it be?"
"You really want to know how complicated? Fine. I fell in love with you, you idiot. Damned if I know why, when or how it happened -"
Anything else he had to say was cut off by the sudden appearance of Jim's mouth over his own. For brief moment, he was too stunned to do anything. This wasn't a lip brushing or a peck. It was a full-fledged kiss and he returned it in full measure without giving his sometimes treacherous brain a chance to overthink it. He was able to fully enjoy it for nearly thirty seconds before said treacherous brain interrupted and he found himself shoving Jim away.
"No."
It took a minute for Jim to find his voice and, even then, he only repeated that word.
"No?"
"No. You don't get to go from acting like I've barely existed ever since the orders to this hell-hole came through to acting like we're in a relationship. I . . . dammit, Jim! How long have you known me now? I admit that sometimes I've envied you for being able to do it, but I can't do 'friends with benefits'. Not to mention you and Spock."
Kirk's face went from puzzled to outright confused.
"What has Spock got to do with anything?"
"He was in your room when you called me there, remember? Last time you said anything to me face to face, remember?"
"He wasn't there because - I mean, you think Uhura would have left me intact if I . . ."
Running out of words, Kirk raised his hands slightly then let them flop down into his lap.
"The timing. Dammit, I didn't even think about the timing. Bones, did you think that Spock and Uhura had broken up?"
"Seemed like it the last month I was onboard. They went from being joined at the hip to barely being in the same room. They weren't hostile or avoiding so I thought they'd cooled down to just being friends."
"Cooled down, but because Uhura got some bad news from home that she was working through and that whole touch telepathy thing was too much for her to handle at the time. She wanted to deal with it without feeling like she needed to explain it all to Spock. She was going to go to you to talk about it, but Spock and I told her about the orders the were coming through and -"
"Whoa. Nyota knew? You told her about the orders for me to come here before you told me?"
Before Kirk could even begin to answer, McCoy held his hand up.
"Never mind that for now. I'm dead on my feet and I'll be lucky to get four hours sleep before I get called because someone needs a damn bandaid or something."
McCoy wasn't looking at Kirk when he spoke so he didn't see the expression on Kirk's face turning back to concern.
"Bones? When was the last time you had a day off?"
Eyes closed, McCoy's right hand reached up to massage his forehead in a vain attempt to ward off a headache.
"I dunno, Jim. Maybe four days before the orders came through?"
There was silence while Kirk processed that and when he spoke again, his voice had an undercurrent to it that McCoy couldn't quite read.
"Are you telling me that you haven't had a single day off while you've been here?"
"I'm telling you I haven't had so much as twelve hours in a row off since I've been here."
He felt Kirk take hold of his shoulder, squeeze it gently and then felt the firm pressure as Kirk guided him down onto the bed.
"Rest, Bones. I'll keep a watch and try to keep them from disturbing you."
Frankly too tired to argue even if he had felt the urge, McCoy slumped. If Kirk could really keep the rest of the Starbase at bay so that he could get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.
As he began waking, McCoy thought that there was something different. Some feeling, some smell, some sound - something had changed since he'd dozed off. Then one noise that he knew quite well was singled out by his brain. Snoring. Kirk's snoring, to be precise. A fond smile formed on McCoy's face as his body began to stretch like a cat. He wasn't sure how Kirk had managed if, but McCoy could tell he'd managed to get a solid block of uninterrupted sleep and damned if it didn't feel fine.
The stretch led to a yawn before he slowly opened his eyes - then came stark awake. He wasn't where he had been - he was back in his quarters on the Enterprise.
The jolt he'd given when he had realized where he was had Kirk waking now and McCoy watched as his Captain stretched and yawned before looking over at him a little sheepishly.
"I hadn't meant to fall asleep. Feeling better?"
"Yeah. Still a little tired and I could use a bite to eat, but better. How did you get me up here without waking me?"
Laughing, Kirk shook his head.
"Are you kidding? You were so exhausted, you didn't even stir during the teleport. That was the better part of a day ago. You had me worried me enough that I called in the nurses come take a look at you. Speaking of which, Chapel still wants me to give her permission to teleport over to the Starbase so she can kick ass over there. She said she expected you to be returned to us in comparable condition to how you left. I've already had Spock lodge a formal complaint against Admiral Fitzpatrick's treatment of you, but that's not what I wanted to say."
McCoy sat patiently, watching Kirk as he ran his fingers through his hair as If the movement would help him gather his thoughts. Kirk took a deep breath and sat down near him.
"I was miserable the entire time you were gone and I'm pretty sure I made everyone around me miserable too. I missed you so damn much and I had to keep myself from dropping you messages or trying to contact you because I didn't want to make you miserable too. But you already were miserable and worse, you were miserable and thought I didn't care that you were feeling that way and I've totally screwed everything up and -"
This time it was Kirk's words that were cut off as McCoy moved to press their lips together. When they reluctantly parted for air, McCoy said one word again and it gave Kirk a chill.
"No."
As before, Kirk found he could only repeat that.
"No?"
But this time, McCoy's hand came up to caress the side of Kirk's face.
"No, you have not totally screwed everything up."
The blue eyes were bright again as Kirk tugged McCoy closer, practically cradling the still exhausted man against him.
"You've always taken such good care of me, but now I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to tell you - show you - how much I've missed you. Go back to sleep for a little while, Bones. I've got you."
As the soft breathing slowly deepened into gentle snoring, Kirk shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable, whispering into the hair brushing against his chin.
"Bones. My Bones."
Even in the depths of sleep, McCoy heard him. And smiled.
