Disclaimer & Notes: Inspired by the "Backstory Challenge" on the ST Dreamwidth community, Singularity. If you think I have anything to do with J. J. Abrams, Paramount, or the ST franchise you are dead wrong. I make no profit by writing fan fiction because, dude, that would mean lawsuits. This is also little flight of fancy with no beta and some blinks at original ST timeline information for McCoy.
Hell Hath No...
"Leonard, I don't see a lot of options."
Another person might have termed the small court house conference room with its white walls, functional chairs, and simulated wood table sterile, but Leonard McCoy was a doctor. A sterile environment didn't have old gum stuck on the underside of the Formica and windows in need of washing.
"I'm a doctor, not a lawyer. Whaddya mean, you don't see a lot of options?"
"I mean if you had made her sign a prenup you'd be in a better position than you are right now. However, you didn't, you got caught with your pants down, and now you're screwed."
John was probably amused by his turn of phrase but Leonard was not. The term "screwed" from your lawyer was not funny when you were accused of adultery. "So what I'm hearing you say is, 'I told you so.' Thanks for nothing."
"Look, Leonard, she's a woman with an axe to grind. You cheated on her. What do you expect, a miracle?"
"I expect my lawyer to at least manage to pretend he believes me when I say I did not cheat on my wife!"
Leonard frowned when John shook his head. Sure, it didn't look good, and the photographs certainly didn't help. What the hell had been going through Jocelyn's mind in the first place for her to have hired a private investigator? Yes, he had been spending long hours at the office. Yes, many of his patients were women. Yes, he often went to dinner with one of the nurses when he worked late. Yes, he had a brief affair with Dax in college, but that was before they were married for Christ's sake! Before he'd even entered medical school! Getting together with an old flame did not constitute an affair. It was conjecture. Jocelyn had no proof; nothing more than circumstantial evidence that could easily be explained away.
John adjusted his red silk tie. "I suggest you settle. A judge isn't going to give you a better offer than the one they put on the table."
"She gets the house and everything in it, half my salary, and custody of Joanna!"
"She also worked so you could go through medical school, has no degree or trade skills, and has a baby to raise, Leonard." John pointed a manicured finger at the papers on the table. "Things have changed a lot over the years, but in Mississippi the woman still keeps the child unless you can prove her unfit. And judges always favor a woman who chooses a 'traditional' role over a professional man. It's sexist, and old fashioned, but those are the facts. You take this to court and you'll be lucky to have the clothes on your back."
McCoy grunted and ran a hand through his hair. "By the time I pay your fees I won't even have those."
John sighed. "Look, I'm not saying it's fair. It's not. But you need to think about Joanna now. Dragging this through court isn't going to gain you anything but more animosity from Jocelyn. Do you want your daughter growing up in a hostile environment? One where you can't visit or spend time with your own child? And what about when she's older? Do you want her to read the transcripts of your divorce trial? True or not, details of your alleged infidelity will be in that document. What is she going to think?"
"If she's got half a brain she'll think the same thing I do," Leonard growled. "I got bent over a table and I wasn't given the courtesy of a reach around."
The pair sat in silence, Leonard staring vacantly as dust motes danced in the afternoon sunlight. He could still remember the night he met Jocelyn. A high school dance. Little had he known what would come of such an innocuous event. Ten years he spent loving that woman with every bone in his body and this was how it came to an end.
Worst of all, he could have had an affair. He could have had plenty of them. Nurses, patients, and pretty girls at the bar. He didn't lack for offers. He always said, "No." He didn't want to be unfaithful. What a joke.
Much as he hated to admit it, John had a point. Joanna was only six years old. In other circumstances he wouldn't have given a damn, and would have been happy to spend every last dime fighting Jocelyn in court. The woman wasn't without fault. He'd seen her two weeks ago at a cafe with Clay. What a moment that had been -- seeing his wife out on a date with the man he'd stolen her from back in high school. It was like no time had passed at all; as if the events of the last ten years hadn't occurred.
He'd gone on a weeklong bender, missed the delivery of a baby, and had been reported to the Medical Review Board.
Leonard looked out the window. If he signed the papers what would happen? Would Clay end up raising his child? There was a galling thought. Jackson was a small town in a lot of ways. He'd been happy here with his wife, daughter, and small private practice. A simple country doctor. Now, the smell of magnolias made his stomach turn. His life here was over, no sense denying it. It was time for a change. A big change.
"Fine. Give me the goddamn papers."
He grabbed the titanium plate pen from John's hand, flipped to the last page, and signed his old life away. Just like that, he was divorced. For a split second, it almost felt good.
John stood up and flicked open his briefcase. He put the signed papers and the manila folder inside then shut it with a sharp snap. "What are you going to do now, Leonard?"
"Not sure. Maybe I'll leave town for a while."
The lawyer seemed to understand. "Just let my office know where to send your copy of the papers when they come in."
Two hours and five shots of whiskey later Leonard McCoy was wandering the Jackson Mall without a coherent thought in his head. A man in a red uniform was outside the recruiting center chatting people up and waiving around handbills. See the stars, he said. Be on the cutting edge of medicine, he said. The Federation is a research and peace keeping armada, he said. Go where no man has gone before, he said.
Where no man has gone before? Something about that sounded really damn good.
If he had been less inebriated he might have been amused that he signed his life away twice in less than three hours with the same titanium pen. Lucky for him, it was guaranteed to write upside down, in water, in any temperature, and even in zero gravity. He figured it was the least the bloodsucking lawyer owed him once he got the bill.