Jim didn't always know how to make things right with his CMO. Leonard, beginning to burn out from overworking himself, couldn't be bothered to always tell him what was wrong, either.
But- even if he wasn't able to fix things, Jim did know how to make Leonard feel better. And if there was something he had learned over the years, it was that his favorite doctor could feel better with the simplest of gestures.
Jim liked to use the word simple in a loose way.
That liberty, perhaps even standing on its own, is what started an overhaul of the replicators. A reconfiguration enormous, in fact, that it would become legend; a legend which of course would also eventually have to be reported and explained to Starfleet as somehow being a necessary renovation of the ship. It was do-able, if a pain, and Jim was convinced that he would able to do this, somehow, for his friend.
To bring Jim's plans together, he enlisted the help of Scotty and even Spock, taking time in the lab with his Vulcan XO to break down Leonard's favorite kinds of coffee into their simplest forms from scratch, for use as empirical and molecular formulas which the replicators would utilize to recreate "fresh" coffee. Spock, though unusually insistent on helping – "Your endeavor to accomplish this change to the ship's source of sustenance, while admirable, will no doubt fail without my assistance in the matter" – thought his devotion to this particular project illogical and a slight waste of resources.
Jim replied that if he really thought he had something better in mind for Jim to be doing with his spare time, Spock could go right ahead and let him know. Frankly, he didn't even see the problem. They were currently patrolling the Neutral Zone's borders, stuck with little to worry over beyond three of the constants that came with serving on a starship. Sickness, which spread quickly if not contained, Jim's boredom, which ensnared others if not corrected immediately, and the possibility of a Federation's enemy trying to get a poke at their flagship.
So with that logical argument in place, and one particular of that thesis intimidating Spock more than an armada of Klingon war birds ever would- they simple agreed to disagree, and as they continued to work, Jim offered a list up to select areas of the crew for recommendations. And, following his first unsuccessful vanilla iced cappuccino, he decided that he would keep that list away from Deck 5 and sickbay until he knew he could deliver for Leonard.
Of course, this decision was brought to ruin, as gossip on a starship spread about as quickly as sickness did. Soon, the whole ship knew what their captain was doing to the replication system, and as the list circulated to those it hadn't been addressed to, it grew larger- suggestions and requests ranging from homesick ethnic dishes to alien cuisine that hardly seemed palatable to anyone.
It became so troublesome, in fact, that Spock decided they would need to convert the list into a database which would co-exist with the current nourishment already available to the replicators, one that could eliminate foods as they were configured and shift them to what was already there.
Naturally, this meant several things. Firstly, the list would become completely open to the crew, existing as an accessible addition to several other functions on public and private terminals aboard the Enterprise.
Secondly, the Chief Medical Officer would need to approve changes in the list. Now that it was a formal application which involved the health of the crew, it would be against regs to keep it a secret Leonard any longer. That night, Jim typed up a short, to-the-point message concerning the matter, and sent it to Spock, asking him to pretty please inform the good doctor for him. When he messaged Jim later, informing him that his evasion of the doctor would do him no favors in 'getting his ass out of the hot seat', Jim replied that it wasn't elusion so much as prudent thinking.
Spock chose not to respond to that. He had a good idea as to why.
The ingenious safety net Jim had woven for himself was short lived, though. Not too long after the database went up, Leonard stormed into his quarters. It was beta shift, so Jim wasn't even remotely surprised when he just used his CMO's override, not even bothering to knock.
Jim didn't look up from the requisitions he was filling out when a PADD was slammed on to his desk, jarring an old paperweight and a stylus.
Leonard dropped into the chair before Jim's desk, glowering like he'd just swallowed a lemon.
"What the hell is all of this, Jim?" He snapped, gesturing to the scrolling list which Jim identified as the new database at a glance. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this damn fool idea of yours is? They use shrimp in the pickling of certain types of kimchi, Mitchells swells up like a balloon – Yes, and you remember that, don't you? – if he's even in the same room as plomeek, and the cinnamon cookies recipe that Everson requested contains ground pecans, which you are allergic to.
This is an ignorant crewman and one of your new replicators away from being an absolute disaster!" He shouted, getting louder as he went on. His tirade didn't faze Jim in the slightest, though, having been expecting the visit all day. Christine, Jim thought accusingly.
Jim's silent indifference and careful penmanship only served to agitate the doctor further. "For God's sake, could you please, for once, pay attention? This an important health risk that needs to be taken-"
Placing a previously concealed, closed thermos on the desk between them, Jim looked up to contemplate Leonard's stressed, taut features, before gesturing to the coffee with a put-upon, "That's for you."
And then he got back to his requisition forms.
Only after a good two minutes of stunned silence did Jim reach out to impatiently nudge the coffee closer to the gaping doctor.
Tentatively, and with a look of utmost suspicion, Leonard lifted up the thermos and snapped it open, watching Jim as he took a sip- as if he expected to drop dead of poisoning immediately.
No such thing happened, and, after a pause, his eyes shuttered closed and a moan of appreciation escaped him.
Jim smirked in approval, and reminded himself to congratulate Scotty on a job well done. And then wheedle Spock into joining them later for celebratory drinks- even if he claimed that his Vulcan physiology allowed him the benefits of being impervious to Terran alcohols.
"Jim… did you program the replicators for coffee?" The disbelief made Jim's certainty all the more sweet.
"Yep. Just for you."
"Why?"
"Felt like it."
The lie carried a knowing silence between them, charged with their combined affection.
Leonard considered the thermos evenly. "Thank you," he finally said, and smiling for the first time in a couple days drank more of the sorely missed beverage.
Jim nodded to himself with satisfaction. "You're most certainly welcome, Bonesy. And, there's more where that came from, if you're a good boy and don't nail me to a wall for uh… shrimp allergies."
"Jim. I'm a grateful, overworked doctor. Not a dog. We're still going to have that talk about controlling reactions to the new foods available- and don't call me Bonesy, neither."
"Of course, Cujo. I apologize."
A/N: Navigation for chronological order is listed on my profile.