A/N One small step for Fanfiction, one giant leap for MoonyEstelChase … This is my first Star Trek fic! Whaaaaaat? I'm venturing into multifandom territory, which I swore I'd never do; Star Trek (read: Bones) has just stolen my affections and I couldn't help myself …

McCoy rubbed his forehead; again. Jim had drug him down to the planet's surface for another diplomatic meeting and he was sick of it. The backtalk, the hidden meanings, the riddles. All the doctor wanted right now was: 1. to have some bourbon 2. to talk to someone straightforwardly.

Unfortunately, the meeting was set to drag on for another 2 hours, which meant he'd be here for five. McCoy sighed as discretely as possible. The M'jar leader was now babbling about something stupid like trade. Who cared about that stuff? He had a headache, dammit.

He sighed again. It apparently wasn't as well hidden as his first, because Jim was glaring. He glared back. Why'd Jim even have to bring him in the first place? There weren't any medical emergencies, no important discoveries. McCoy looked at Jim's equally bored face (no matter how stoic it seemed, Mccoy could tell) and decided it was just some primal urge on Jim's part to assert his dominance.

Crap. Some of the M'jarians were glaring at him too. He tried to pull himself together. The Head Councilman started talking to him. "Doctor Em'k-koy. Do you require something?"

Jim was giving him the Don't-you-dare-be-honest-and-tell-him-you're-bored look.

"Well, " he began. "Most humans are not ... accustomed to sitting six straight hours."

Jim facepalmed.

McCoy continued. "It'd be amazing if y'all could give us a break; maybe an hour?"

The Head Councilman seemed taken aback. "I am sorry that we did not consider your physical needs -"

"It's no problem, sir. I'm sure Doctor McCoy is very well able to stay longer." Jim interrupted.

"No. We will adjourn. The negotiations will recommence in one hour."

The M'jarians filed out of the room, leaving McCoy alone to face Jim's wrath. "Why did you do that?" Jim bellowed. "This negotiation is very important to the Federation!"

McCoy snorted. "That may well be, but I don't see what I have to do with it. I'm tired of sitting, and I told him so."

Jim scrubbed his face. "Do I have to explain every command to you, Bones?"

"Yes."

The Captain's face hardened. "Bones. I'm in charge. Even if you don't like what I tell you, you've gotta do it."

Another snort. "I know." Jim's shoulders loosened. McCoy added, "But I can still protest."

Jim would begrudge him that. "It's what makes you McCoy."

"So," McCoy stood up. "What'dya wanna do with that hour of free time I got us?"

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

The bars on M'jar were said to be exemplary. They couldn't very well get drunk, but an hour was ample time to enjoy a shot or two. As Jim led McCoy to a bar he knew (no doubt one he'd found last night), McCoy enjoyed the scenery. M'jar was lush with bright foliage. Great yellow trees towered over the paved streets, filled with cooing cobalt birds.

The M'jarians themselves were colorful, with neon green skin that honestly made McCoy dizzy. The brighter your skin glowed, the more knowledge you had. M'jarians would grow brighter and brighter until POOF! They exploded into a shower of light. McCoy had held some serious worries about the safety of walking the streets, but the Councilmembers had assured the humans that it was easy to tell when someone's time was coming, so family would bring them to a special kind of room for the "Evaporation".

McCoy was avoiding the most neon skins, nonetheless.

As the duo walked the streets, McCoy began to notice little faces staring. Tiny feet plodded behind them. "Jim. I think we have company."

Jim slowly put his hand on his phaser. McCoy hurriedly amended, "No no. It's the good kind."

They turned to see a group of M'jarian children staring at them in awe. McCoy smiled at them. "Hey, kiddoes."

The children blushed. Some looked at their feet, others twiddled with their clothes. One, a bolder child, looked at McCoy. "Hello."

McCoy's smile grew. "Well, now. Aren't you nice?"

The child beamed. McCoy continued, "What's your name, son?"

"H'll."

Jim's eyes widened. "Hell?"

"H'll." The kid corrected.

"Kid, that's a shhhhhure good name."

Jim quirked an eyebrow confusedly at McCoy. "What's with the lisp?"

McCoy stammered. "Well, we're … we're around little ears, and while Sure was not what I was planning to say …"

"We should get some of 'em to come on board to help train that mouth of yours." Jim laughed.

"Like you don't swear just as much."

"What's a swear?" One little girl asked.

That stopped the men in their tracks. "Uh, it's something that big people say when they get upset." McCoy answered, looking at a not-helping Jim. "You know, when you get hurt or mad."

"Like fudgy farts? That's what my mom says."

Jim coughed loudly and suddenly. McCoy was not as amused. "Mmm hm."

Whispering, Jim leaned over to McCoy's ear. "Those illegal traders that had been here shhhhhhure did influence the culture." McCoy elbowed his gut.

With Jim coughing in earnest now, McCoy turned back to the kids. "Adults say bad words sometimes."

"Like idiot?"

"… Yes."

"Or daaaaaarn it, like a human pirate?"

He was getting more uncomfortable. "Let's talk about somethin' else, kay?"

"Okay!" The little girl skipped around them. "I like you. What's your name?"

McCoy grinned. It was good to see kids again. It made him miss Johanna even more, but any kid was refreshing. The adult atmosphere onboard was oppressing at time. "I'm Lenonard. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Hello, L'nard. I'm D'mmat."

Jim couldn't help himself this time. Laughter rolled through the street as McCoy tried so very hard to keep a straight face. "It's nice to meet you, D'mmat."