A/N: Just some heartwarming fluff in between projects and life. Enjoy :)

"Do you know who you are, Dad?"

It may have been an unexpected question, but McCoy was nothing if not perceptive. Watching Joanna speak to him through the viewscreen, slouched over her dorm desk with her head in her hand as she dejectedly rubbed a spot on the surface, had immediately given him the impression that there were some issues running through her mind. It softened his heart in ways he still had trouble understanding – he ached at seeing his only daughter so despondent, yet was warmed by compassion and the precious gift of a parental bonding moment. It was love.

"Has that question been botherin' ya?" he replied softly.

Joanna shrugged, but the perpetual slope of her shoulders belied the nonchalance.

"Well, now," McCoy leaned back, turning over her question. "I've never quite thought about it that way."

She finally looked at him and not the spot on her desk. "What do you mean?"

"If I looked at who I am," McCoy began slowly. "I don't think I'd like much of what I saw."

Joanna's face started to scrunch up with emotion.

"However, that's not the point," he continued. "You're asking the wrong question."

The wobbling edge of tears was replaced for a moment by confusion. "I don't understand."

"I would say it's not about trying to figure out who you are, but who you would like to be."

He watched the gears turn in his daughter's mind. She was always bright – she would understand what he was saying.

"So all the literature about self-discovery…"

McCoy snorted, but swiftly returned to seriousness with a sigh. "Might be helpful. Might be totally wrong. But I think you'll find that the real sharp folks understand that being somebody is a series of decisions and actions you take every day to become the person you want to be. If we all looked at who we are now, I doubt anyone would be satisfied. We are all flawed, you know. But those little daily steps towards overcoming those flaws… towards being that better person… I think that's infinitely more important than obsessing over your present identity."

Joanna nodded, looking a lot more alert than when they began their conversation. McCoy smiled fondly.

"So… who would you like to be?"

"A generous person," she answered. "I want to give and help a lot… you know. I just don't know how to while I'm struggling in college… but I want to be that person. More than anything."

"I see." He thought for a moment. "How's that poor fellow you found outside the hospital doing?"

She looked surprised. "Fine. Good. We had to run a full panel of detox on him. Brent gave him a pamphlet for a rehab center when he got out."

"Didn't you buy him lunch, first?"

Joanna slumped. "Just for the road. I couldn't cover dinner, and I had no idea where he was staying-"

McCoy held up a finger. "Ah, but you did what you could with the means you had – even for a poor medical student. That's generosity. You keep finding ways like that to help, and suddenly you'll find that everyone agrees you're a generous person."

"But if only I could do more-"

"And you will. One day." McCoy smiled. "These are your humble beginnings, Joanna. Cherish them."

Joanna nodded. She took in a deep breath. "So… do you think I'm a good person?"

"Joanna," he said clearly, leaning forward. "I think you're one of the kindest, brightest, most compassionate people I've ever met. I'm proud of the person you've been, are, and will grow into."

The tears were back pricking in her eyes. She gave him a watery smile. "Thanks, Dad."

"I love you, sweetie."

"Love you, too."