Based on characters created by Gene Roddenberry & Paramount Studios. For the Shuffle Challenge in Live Journal—"The Night the Lights went out in Georgia." TOS Star Trek & Star Trek 2009 A/N: I didn't think this was very good, but I really liked the concept, so I've tweaked it for FanFiction. Hope you enjoy! I must give cred for the idea of a story about McCoy's ex wife from possibly-thrice in Live Journal, that was my true inspiration.—Rita
Anniversary
Leonard McCoy was twenty-nine years old when he walked into his own house to find his wife in bed with his medical partner. He admitted that he went a little crazy and tore the house up. The house he paid for!
He went on a destructive bender that lasted for months, giving the soon-to-be-ex-wife's attorneys enough ammunition so that he lost everything. She took everything but his bones. He was determined never to let another woman get close enough to hurt him again because he'd suffered enough scars to last him a lifetime. Deciding that planet Earth was too big for the two of them, he signed up for duty with Star Fleet Command, drunk on his ass.
When he finally sobered up, he swore off marriage and decided to do something positive with his life. Making the best of a bad situation, McCoy realized he had committed himself to serve with Star Fleet. For a split second he thought about trying to get out of his contract, but then decided he'd be better off away from terra firma, even though he was terrified that he would die a horrible death in space. That thought kept him drunk as he boarded the shuttle that took him to the outpost. He received orders for the USS Enterprise and served as chief medical officer when the medical officer was killed. He was ready for the job. He'd been ready his whole life.
Life aboard a star ship suited him. His true personality came out and he was one grumpy son of a bitch. Being an asshole was a great protective device and it kept most people at a distance. Only his real friends, Captain Kirk and Commander Scott saw through the surliness and understood that he really a nice guy with a killer sense of humor.
That night, he stood on the observation deck, one of the few times he went up there as he watched the spectacular view of the cosmos in front of him. The observation deck had a way of putting one's life in perspective. He drank bourbon from an antique flask that his ex-wife gave him as a wedding present. It was his anniversary; he celebrated the date every year, a reminder of how lucky he was to get rid of her.
The former Mrs. Doctor Leonard McCoy was a genteel Southern Belle; a trophy wife who was born and bred to a life of pampered privilege. Her face, hair and dress were always perfection. And she looked so good on his arm. They were a country club couple. She was the type of woman who fawned over him in public and criticized his every move in private. He doubted that she ever loved him, but she had put on a hell of a show when they first met.
They met in college in Mississippi. A former friend introduced them and when he took her home to Atlanta to meet his parents, they were enamored. She was everything a rich doctor's wife should be. When they were alone together and that was often, she allowed him to paw at her and they made out for hours at a time. She would jerk him off but refused to go down on him; she was too much of a lady for that.
McCoy met the young woman while he was a resident in his hometown in Atlanta. She wasn't high society, but she had a wonderful sense of humor and he fancied himself to be in love. He wrote a communication with his girlfriend in Mississippi, telling her that he was sorry, but he wanted to end their relationship. Ms Southern Belle hopped the next transport to Georgia and surprised him at his front door wearing only a rain coat. She seduced him and got pregnant. None of his family minded that the wedding was done in a hurry, but McCoy felt trapped.
Once they were married, they rarely made love. Most of the time she told him what a loser he was. The only time McCoy could touch her was when she wanted an expensive trinket. She would sashay in front of him wearing skimpy lingerie; then she would sit on his lap and talk baby talk and let him have his way. As soon as he was finished, she'd jump up and run into the bathroom. It was little wonder that McCoy began to drink heavily. He worked longer hours just so he didn't have to come home. He barely knew his daughter.
Maybe he was relieved when he caught his wife in bed with his medical partner. He had returned early from a medical convention in New York and that damn song, "The Night the Lights Went out in Georgia," was playing in the taxi as it pulled in front of his house. He was probably sadder at losing his partner than his wife but he hated the betrayal. His acting out caused him to lose everything, including a chance to get to know his daughter. That was his only regret. Now when he heard the song, it reminded him how much his life sucked before joining Star Fleet Command.
He took another drink from his flask and held it high in a toast into the cosmos. "Happy anniversary, bitch. And thanks."