This follows the events from the movie Generations.

Dr. Leonard McCoy sat on his back porch overlooking a beautiful ten acre property he had purchased upon his retirement. He could smell the honeysuckle being carried in the air across the Georgia landscape by the warm summer breeze. He never got tired of that smell. He spent half of his life on this piece of land, and there wasn't a day he wasn't grateful for it.

At 145 years old, he knew his days were numbered. He'd made peace with that a long time ago, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to enjoy every day he had left in this universe. He'd lived his life, and it was a great one, if he did say so himself. He'd lived to see six generations of McCoys beyond himself, many of which followed in the family tradition of working in the medical field. He really couldn't ask for more.

There was a knock at the front door, and that surprised Dr. McCoy. He didn't get many visitors anymore. He'd just seen Joanna a week ago, so he knew she wasn't going to visit again for a while. Scotty stopped by on occasion, but he knew the engineer was off on some technical assignment for Starfleet. And Spock... well, he hadn't heard from Spock since he'd left for Romulus over three years earlier. He knew Spock, while he was still trying to get the Romulans and Vulcans to come together, had been reassigned to another diplomatic mission, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember where.

"It's open," he called into the house, hoping the person at the door would hear so he wouldn't have to get up to answer the door. It wasn't as easy to get around as it had been even a few years earlier.

The door creaked open, and a tentative voice he didn't recognize called into the main part of the house, "Dr. McCoy?"

"I'm out back," the doctor answered through the screen door.

The only response was footfalls across the hardwood floor of his living room before they stopped at the screened in back door. The visitor inched the door open slowly, and the hinges squealed in protest. As he stepped out onto the porch, McCoy glanced up at him in the fading Georgia afternoon, and he knew he'd seen his face before. He couldn't recall where or when, but he had met this man before. He'd never been good with names, but at least now he had an excuse not to be. Old age did have its advantages.

"Pardon the intrusion, sir," the man said.

Dr. McCoy waved a dismissive hand at him. "You're not intruding. I was just planning on watching the sunset like I do most evenings. Care to join me?"

"Thank you, Admiral," he replied, taking the seat on the porch next to McCoy.

McCoy laughed and coughed at the same time. "No need to call me Admiral. I haven't been in the Fleet for quite some time. And the Admiral rank was honorary anyway. Never saw myself as the command type. Just call me Leonard."

"Very well, Leonard," the man said with a slight smile.

"So what can I do for you, son?"

The man smiled again. "I don't know if you remember me, but my name is Jean-Luc Picard of the Enterprise."

The Enterprise! That's where he'd met the man. He'd toured the Enterprise D before it made its maiden voyage to Farpoint Station almost eight years earlier. He'd seen their impressive sickbay, and then been given a full tour of their bridge. Place seemed like a five star hotel compared to the ships he'd toured on in his prime. The Fleet made flying hotels now.

"I remember you, Captain," McCoy replied.

"Since we're dispensing with formalities, call me Jean-Luc."

"Whatever makes you happy, Jean-Luc."

There was a moment of silence, and when McCoy looked over at the Starfleet captain, he seemed a bit tentative on what he was going to say. The doctor decided to give him a little prod.

"So what brings the captain of the flagship of the Fleet by to see little ol' me?"

Captain Picard smirked sadly. "She's not the flagship anymore."

"Heard about that," the doctor said, turning his gaze back towards the Georgia sunset. "Damn shame. But the Enterprise always seems to go out in a blaze of glory."

"So it seems," Picard added.

Another lull in the conversation fell, and McCoy was starting to get impatient. He was an old man. He didn't have time for platitudes or ceremony. He preferred people get straight to the point.

"But I don't think you came all the way here just to tell me about the Enterprise."

"You're correct. There's something else I've come to talk to you about." Again, he paused, and now McCoy was just getting frustrated.

"Well, what is it, son? I'm an old man, so I don't have the luxury of dancing around the point."

Captain Picard smiled slightly. Dr. McCoy was known for his sharp tongue, and he was glad to see age hadn't taken that from him.

"How much did you hear about the mission on Veridian III?" Picard asked.

McCoy gazed out at the setting sun, letting the rays warm his face. "Not much. I just know some lunatic was trying to blow up the sun, Klingons were involved, and the Enterprise was trashed. I don't get a lot of Fleet information anymore, but by the fact that you're here, I'm assuming you beat the crazy guy."

Picard leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on his knees and folding his hands in front of him. "Yes, I was able to stop Dr. Soran in his attempt to destroy the Veridian star."

McCoy grunted. "Good."

"But I had some help," Picard continued. "From someone you know."

McCoy didn't raise his head, but he glanced in Picard's direction with a raised eyebrow.

"Captain Kirk."

Dr. McCoy looked back out over the field behind his house just as the sun was disappearing from view. Jim helped save the day on Veridian III... seventy eight years after his death. He smiled.

"You don't seem surprised," Picard said after a moment.

"Jean-Luc, when it comes to James T. Kirk, nothing surprises me anymore. I've seen him do more impossible things. What I would like to know is how. Last I knew, he was dead."

The captain smiled. "Apparently, Starfleet was a bit premature in declaring him dead. In the mission on the Enterprise-B, Captain Kirk was caught in a temporal energy ribbon. He wasn't dead, just... stuck. He didn't realize where he was until I got caught up in it, too. He came back to Veridian with me to stop Soran."

"Sounds like Jim. He'd never turn down a chance for a good adventure," McCoy muttered. "Most foolhardy adrenaline junky I've ever met."

"I couldn't have done it without him," Picard continued. "He saved that entire star system and my crew as well."

"Don't tell him that," McCoy smirked. "He'd never let you live it down."

Sadness crept into Picard's eyes, and immediately McCoy knew Jim's fate. "He's dead again, isn't he?" he asked, but he already knew the answer

Captain Picard hesitated before he answered, but then nodded. "He died on Veridian."

McCoy nodded solemnly. He'd gotten used to not having Jim Kirk in his life, but he always missed his best friend. He'd never trusted anyone else like he trusted Jim. Despite the news of his friend's rebirth and then death again, he smiled.

"One death just wasn't good enough for Jim. He needed two."

The two sat in silence for several moments, each paying their respects to James Kirk. The sun fell behind the horizon, leaving a purple glow as the night sky descended. The warm Georgia air chilled quickly, and McCoy knew it was time to go inside. His body couldn't tolerate cold in his youth, but now even the slightest chill bothered him. He grasped the arms of his chair, slowly lifting himself up on unsteady arms. Captain Picard was immediately at his side, offering assistance, but Dr. McCoy brushed him off.

"I'm old, not an invalid. I can still get around my own damn home," he muttered. He slowly rose out of the chair then led the way into his house. He walked slowly into the living room, and Captain Picard followed closely behind him. McCoy gestured vaguely at the couch before continuing towards the kitchen. "I'm gonna make some tea. You want some?"

"Tea sounds wonderful," Picard replied, sitting on the couch.

The doctor grunted in response and moved out of Picard's sight. The captain glanced around the room while he waited for Dr. McCoy to return. He heard the other man clinking things in the kitchen then a muttered curse, and he almost asked if the doctor needed any help. Then he remembered McCoy's response to his help earlier and thought better of it. The captain couldn't help but smile. One would never guess McCoy was nearly a century and a half old if he didn't know it already.

A clock on the mantle caught his eye, and he rose from the couch to get a closer look. It was the same clock he'd seen at Kirk's house in the Nexxus. He carefully ran a hand over the smooth surface, afraid if he touched it too roughly, it would disappear. He remembered the regret and conviction with which Kirk had told him to never give up the captain's seat. He wasn't sure what would happen to him now that the Enterprise was gone, but he planned on taking Jim Kirk's advice. His place was on a ship among the stars, not behind some desk at Starfleet Headquarters.

"Jim gave me that," McCoy said, startling Picard out of his reverie. He slowly carried two cups of tea into the living room, placing them carefully on the coffee table with shaky hands. He lowered himself onto the soft cushions and leaned back, looking at the clock that had captured Picard's attention. "Gave it to me right after he told Antonia he was goin' back to Starfleet."

Captain Picard nodded before moving back to the couch and sitting down. "He mentioned he'd given it to you. I just didn't expect to see it."

Dr. McCoy raised one eyebrow again. "He told you about the clock in the middle of saving that star system? Seems like an odd conversation to be having during a crisis."

The captain chuckled. "It was in the Nexxus. In there, each person can create whatever reality they choose. Captain Kirk had recreated his home in Iowa, and he mentioned that he'd given you that clock."

"Ah," McCoy replied, as if that were enough of an explanation.

Picard reached for the glass of tea, taking a small sip. Dr. McCoy didn't make any noise or move, but he only stared at the clock on the mantle. Captain Picard became slightly alarmed, wondering if the doctor was well, but right before he said something, McCoy spoke again.

"Were you there when he died?"

Picard was startled by the question, but nodded in response. "I was with him, yes."

McCoy grunted again. "Good. Nothing like having Jim proved wrong."

"I beg your pardon?"

McCoy smiled, looking very tired. "A long time ago, had to be almost a century, Jim told me and Spock that he always knew he would die alone."

Picard only nodded as McCoy's gaze became distant before he continued. "I always kicked myself for not going on that shakedown cruise of the Enterprise B. I'd been invited, just like Jim was, but I had a prior commitment. I had a big research project going on, so I turned it down. Spock turned it down, too, hell if I remember why though. I kept telling myself if we'd been there, Jim would've lived. I still regret not going on that tour."

Captain Picard didn't know what to say. The regret in his voice was palpable. He couldn't imagine what decades of grief and guilt felt like.

"I'm just glad he didn't die alone. He deserved better."

"He was a great man," Picard added.

"Damn right he was. None better."

Silence descended once again, both absorbed in their thoughts of James Kirk. Picard picked up his cup of tea, taking a careful sip before replacing the cup on the table. The silence lingered for several minutes before McCoy spoke again.

"Has anyone told Spock yet?"

Picard shook his head. "He's on Loreanian IV trying to secure mining rights for their dilithium. I'm going there after this to deliver the news in person. I'm hoping I beat the Starfleet grapevine there. It's going to take some work to get there, and I'd like to beat the news to him."

McCoy nodded. "I'd like to go with you."

The captain looked like he was about to protest, but he understood why McCoy needed to be there. The three officers were legendary in Starfleet, and it would only be appropriate that Spock hear the news of Jim Kirk from his longtime friend. It would make his mission more difficult, but he could work out the details on the way.

"I'd be honored, sir."

"Enough with the formal bull, captain," McCoy sputtered. "When do you leave?"

"0700 hours tomorrow from Starfleet HQ."

"I'll be there with bells on," McCoy told him. The admiral closed his eyes, unable to resist the fatigue that settled on him. "Now if you don't mind, it's past this old man's bedtime."

"Of course," Picard said, rising from the couch. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Sure, sure," McCoy muttered sleepily. "Just close the door behind you, if you wouldn't mind."

"Not at all. Good night, Leonard," Picard replied as he headed towards the door.

"Good night, Jean-Luc. And thanks."

Captain Picard slipped out of McCoy's house, closing the door behind him. He walked slowly towards the nearest transport station nearly a mile away to head back to San Francisco. He had only met Captain Kirk briefly but he already knew why every person who ever served with him had an unwavering loyalty to him and his memory. As he continued along the road, he made a mental note to ask Dr. McCoy all about James T. Kirk on their way to the Loreanian IV. He wanted to get to know the man behind the legend, and who better to tell him than one of his best friends?