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Okay, I used the dates and ages I could find on the official movie sight and Memory Alpha, so their first year at the Academy Kirk would have been 22 and Bones would be 28. An age was not given for Winona, but I'm saying she was about 25 at the time of Kirk's birth (I know Jennifer Morrison is actually 30, but I'm taking creative license), so she'd be 47 in this story. Memory Alpha also reveals she is a Starfleet officer in the universe of Star Trek XI. Since Kirk's angry stepfather in the movie was not given a name, I'm calling him Frank Sawyer.

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Doctor Leonard McCoy placed his elbows on the bar in front of him and rested his head in an open palm with a sigh. Ruby's was usually bustling with boisterous cadets at this hour on a Friday night, but this particular weekend was special. Tomorrow was the start of Starfleet Academy's Annual Parents' Weekend.

Most of the younger cadets had at least one parent planning on attending and were thus in the throes of last minute preparations. Rooms were being cleaned, porn hidden far more carefully than usual and roommates were being prepped as to what should and should not be discussed with visiting parents. Some were finishing assignments so as to ensure the maximum amount of time could be spent with missed family members.

For the most part, McCoy found amusement in the flustered masses, but some of the chaos and nerves could be tiring. Even Jim Kirk, the younger man who had quite improbably become his best friend, was not immune to the insecurities the potential presence of a parent could cause. Jim had muttered something about his mother being busy, probably not coming, but he was in his dorm with his roommate, frantically trying to make their room smell like it was not inhabited by two active young men.

Being older than the majority of cadets, even the upperclassmen, and a parent himself, Leonard was definitely not expecting any visitors, so he had decided to duck off campus to have a peaceful drink. As a doctor, he did have a dorm room to himself, but he could still hear the muffled thuds of rushing feet, unhappy or urgent shouts from the others or worse, knocks on his door looking for his help cleaning.

So he sat in the comfortingly quiet and dim atmosphere of Ruby's, slowly nursing his second bourbon. He knew he was probably going to be expected to interact with his classmates and their family's this weekend and did not want to face that with a hangover. A little buzz might take the worst edge off some of the encounters, but he'd have to wait till the morning to put that plan into effect.

As he pondered the pros and cons of spending the next two days in and alcohol assisted state of geniality, he almost failed to notice someone sliding onto the stool beside him. He turned his head, fully intending to ask why, in the nearly empty bar, did the stool next to him seem like the best choice for a seat. The words never left his mouth though, as he found himself face to face with a lovely woman.

Despite the low lights of the bar, McCoy noted delicate lines around her eyes and guessed her to be in her mid forties and still probably as stunning as she had been twenty years earlier. From her tanned skin he guessed she spent some a significant amount of time outside in the sun, long enough to bring out freckles on her nose and shoulders. She had dark blond hair that fell around her pretty face and past her shoulders in a riot of loose waves. The fitted black slacks and blue, sleeveless turtleneck she wore showed off her still trim physique to great advantage without being revealing.

It was her eye's though, that caught McCoy's attention. Her eye's, huge, brilliant cornflower blue and surrounded by a thick fringe of dark lashes, were simply stunning…and somehow very familiar, though for the life of him, he couldn't place them.

She smiled at him then and raised her own drink in greeting. "Mind if I sit here?" she asked, and Leonard placed her accent somewhere in the Midwest. "They say drinking alone is a warning sign, but I just really something to brace me before this weekend."

"Perfectly understandable," he assured her. "You're welcome to join me. That way neither of us will be drinking alone. Leonard McCoy."

She laughed softly at his somewhat awkward phrasing. It had been a long time since he'd flirted with a beautiful woman, and, despite the age difference, his new drinking partner definitely qualified as that. "Winona Sawyer," she replied, sipping the whisky she had ordered. "Are you here to see someone? Brother or sister?"

McCoy shook his head ruefully. "Nah. I'm a doctor."

He didn't feel like elaborating and she nodded before saying simply, "I'm a Botanist."

Glancing at her hands, he took in the short cut nails, clean but unpainted, the strong fingers and calluses. He could see her working outdoors, digging into the rich healthy soil of a garden or checking the growth of random flora. "Never was one for gardening myself," he said with a self deprecating shrug. "My ex used to complain that her potted plants died if I looked at them funny."

She laughed again, and McCoy found himself having a pleasant conversation, which was very nice, considering the way the evening started. Plus, it wasn't often that he could find peace at a bar anymore, as Jim's idea of a fun night out included finding the biggest, surliest, dumbest guy in the room and proceeding to antagonize the lummox into a fight. Then McCoy would have to patch him back together as the younger man bled all over him and insisted he was fine.

The rest of the evening was spent as such, the drinks, little stories and laughter flowing freely. The actual discussion and trip that led to them arriving at his room and locking the door was a bit of a blur, but he clearly recalled what happened next.

She leaned in to kiss him – or maybe he moved in to kiss her – and he hoped it didn't see slightly desperate on his part but she seemed to reciprocate happily enough.

She let her arms drift up from his waist, fingers skimming along the sensitive skin of his sides as his shirt rode up, finally wrapping her slim arms around his neck. The feeling of those work roughened fingers sent tingles down McCoy's spine and he smiled against her mouth.

Emboldened. he pushed the shirt up her back slowly, feeling her skin grow warmer the higher his hand got. He moved his mouth from her lips to her cheek and his tongue tasted the salt of her skin. Her eyes closed as she tilted her head back and he traced a line of feather-light kisses down the length of her neck. Leonard broke away long enough to let her slip his shirt over his head and for him to remove the shirt he had begun to slide off he moments ago. They make short work of their own pants, socks and shoes, barely breaking contact to do so.

He maneuvered them onto the bed, pulled the covers over their bodies because her hands and feet were cold like little blocks of ice. His fingers trailed along her smooth skin, unhooking her bra in one smooth movement that surprised even himself. As she slid out of the offending garment, he soft blond hair fell against his face, surrounding him with her scent. She smelled like the forest and rain, with a faint lingering scent from the drink she had imbibed earlier.

When he kissed down her body, he tried to commit everything to memory: from the swell of her breasts to the curve of her hip to the way she trembled and gasped when his lips touched the inside of her thighs. Her hands fisted in his hair and she gasped louder when his fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties before finally sliding them off slowly. His lips were back touching hers, but now their kisses were fierce and passionate. She has to pulled away to breathe when his fingers, first one – then two, slid into her and she bit her lip to keep from moaning too loudly. The walls of the dorm weren't as thick as he would have liked.

McCoy watched her writhe a little under him, his fingers still deftly working their way deeper. When he curled his fingers and pressed into her, he sees those incredible blue eyes staring at him, darkened by lust to an indescribable shade of cobalt. His thumb grazed over her sensitive flesh and he dipped his fingers into her until he could feel heat and warmth spreading over his knuckles. He moved back up, being careful to pay attention to her breasts, and then slid into her in one fluid motion.

His movements above her started off achingly slow, the kisses she placed on his neck horribly distracting. She was hot and tight all around him, the feeling of being surrounded by a woman again after a long dry spell overwhelming and he had to force himself go slow. But Winona wanted still closer and rather than asking for it, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her back arched up to meet his next thrust. He groaned, partly in surprise at this action, but the next time he pushed into her harder and her moans confirmed it's what she wanted from him. She panted as he moved faster, her head dropping back on the pillow as one of his hands snaked down to rub her clit.

It's an extreme pleasure he hasn't felt in so long and she tightened around him every time he rocked into her. Her nails scratched the skin of his back and another moan escaped her when his free hand blindly found her breast, tugging and rolling the hard nipple and exciting the last of her sparking nerve endings.

Their bodies burned as they approached climax, his movements becoming less rhythmic as her muscles clenched, stimulating them both at once. One last push drove them to orgasm and Winona bit his shoulder when she came. He stilled above her afterwards to recover but remained coherent enough to register the after-effects of her muscles still contracting slightly around him.

She exhaled shakily when he slipped out and she wrapped an arm around his neck to kiss him sweetly. She sank into his embrace, spooning against his body. She closed her eyes as he twined his fingers around hers and buried his nose into her flaxen hair, breathing deeply. In that position, they drift off to sleep, sated and happy.

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The next morning, McCoy awoke alone in his bed with a minor headache and surrounded by the earthy smell of sex. A glass of water and two aspirin sat on his bedside table, obviously left by Winona before she left. He knew it hadn't been the sort of liaison that led to a relationship, but he would have like to say goodbye.

He took the pills and drank the water before taking a shower. After washing up, he felt more human and made hi way out into the Quad, where a mass of cadets and their various family members were gathered.

He hadn't even made it down the steps when he heard a voice calling, "Bones! Hey!"

Jim practically ran over to him and grabbed his arm. "My mom's here. She actually came. You have to help me. We ran out of topics of conversation when I was like eight. We need a buffer." He managed to say this all in one long breath as he hauled McCoy through the crowd. "I think you two will get along."

Stopping suddenly, Jim tapped the arm of a woman who was looking away from them. "Mom, this is Bones…uh, Leonard McCoy."

As she turned, all the color rushed out of McCoy's face and he stared in shock.

Winona stared back at him, pretty blue eyes- Jim Kirk's pretty blue eyes, God damn it!- staring back at him in equal surprise. "Leonard!" she said, shock evident in her tone.

All he could manage to mumble was, "Winona."

Jim frowned and glanced back and forth between them rapidly. "You two know each other?" he questioned, surprise and suspicion lacing his voice in equal measure.

Both McCoy and Winona blushed and stammered unintelligible responses as Jim's eyes flew between them as if he was a spectator at Wimbledon. Suddenly he froze and clapped his hands over his face. "Oh, great, that's not something I ever, ever needed to know."