U.S.S. Enterprise: A Doctor's Call

Chapter 13 - I Will Remember That I Remain a Member of Society, with Special Obligations to All Intelligent Lifeforms, those Sound of Mind and Body as well as the Infirm

The doctor had never been so hungover.

Head pounding like a Klingon had hit it with a baseball bat, Leonard groaned and tried with all his might to lift his head. He failed. It could not be done, not even a little bit. When he attempted it for the second time, his whole body screamed at him to stop.

"Computer, dim lights," Leonard ordered, his words slurring together. Was he still drunk? Someone groaned from below him. Up until then, the doctor had kept his eyes closed shut, but at the sound, he forced himself to blink and face reality. He first realized that he was still in Jim's quarters, then that he had at some point collapsed head first into his sofa, and then that Jim was curled in a pathetic ball on the floor. Jim's head rested on a pillow of discarded yellow uniform shirts.

What the hell?

The memories came back, filtered through the haze of alcohol. After their conversation/fight/reconciliation or whatever the hell you could call that, Leonard and Jim decided to do what they always did together after a long day: drink themselves stupid. He was too damn old to keep doing that, he reminded himself as his sore muscles tensed up, and for that matter, so was Jim.

And then the nausea hit him like a shuttle crash. He hardly had time to stumble over and grab a wastebasket near Jim's desk.

Was it bad that this reminded him of the Academy? Memories of the Academy were supposed to be about learning and studying and making friends with other cadets, and all Leonard could remember was all the times either Jim or himself had ended up completely trashed somewhere stupid.

"Shuddup," Jim growled at the sound of him puking. Unfortunately, he couldn't really control that. "Bones, dija hear me? I said shuddup."

Leonard seriously considered throwing up on Jim instead. Every word that came out of his mouth only increased the steady throbbing in his skull. Once his stomach had finished purging itself of what had to be every damn thing he'd ever eaten, Leonard spit a few times for good measure.

Clutching the basket like a safety blanket, Leonard lifted his head up and glared at Jim.

"You're a sunuvabitch," the doctor moaned.

"You're the one," Jim mumbled, rolling over to put his face into the carpet, "who said 'heylessdrinkokay?'"

"I'm nah the one who thought Saurian brandy wuh be a good idea," Leonard argued. Jim had no response to that, and Leonard would've felt better about winning the argument if he didn't feel like death warmed over. "Computer," he said, making Jim hurl something at him. It was a communicator, and it flew by him and smashed into the wall. "What time s'it?"

"08:02."

"Oh shit, Jim," Leonard started, scrambling up off the floor. He stumbled into Jim's desk but caught himself before he fell over. "Shit, shit, shit. Jim, geddup, man." If anything, Jim only burrowed further into the floor. Leonard tripped his way over to the captain and nudged him with his boot. "Jim, i's Tuesday, okay? We've got seniorofficersmeetin'," Leonard insisted. "Spock's gunnbe pissy if we're late."

"Spock's always pissy," Jim countered, turning his head to look at the doctor.

Leonard sighed, bending down and pulling Jim's arm. "Comeon."

"I dun wanna."

"But you're the cap'n. Cap'n's gotta go. Tha's the rules." He succeeded in dragging Jim up onto his feet, but the kid swayed back and forth like he wasn't quite sure how to stand. "But if I'm the captain, then," Jim frowned as Leonard brought them both out into the hallway, "dun I make the rules?"

"No. I make the rules," the doctor decided. The bright lights of the ship made him cover his eyes with one hand, still pulling a stumbling Jim along in the other.

Jim squinted at him when Leonard finally succeeded in shoving him into the turbolift. "You're ugly."

"You're ugly. Deck Twelve."

"No I'm not," Jim pouted. "I'm sexy."

"You're disu'sting and I dunno how you managed to procrate," Leonard mumbled, his stomach churning. Maybe he needed to throw up again?

"Same to you, buddy ... Bones, I thin' Saurian brandy wasabadidea?" Smartest damn thing he'd ever said. "Nev' lemme drink it again."

"Okay," Leonard answered, though he doubted if he'd be able to ever stop Jim from doing anything. They left the turbolift the same way the had entered it, limping and covering their eyes and cursing. Some of the crew paused at the sight of them, and Leonard knew they looked bad. Reaching the briefing room, Leonard looked at Jim, and Jim looked at Leonard. Neither of them particularly wanted to go inside, but both of them knew that they would have to.

Then, without a moment's notice, Jim opened the doors and shoved Leonard in first. Goddamn coward.

Spock cut off mid-sentence and stared. Everyone stared.

Jim cowered behind him.

"Uhhhhhh," Leonard mumbled, eyes darting around.

"Uh, Bones? Really?" Jim whispered from his hiding spot.

"Well if you've got sumin' better to say."

"Anythin's better than uh."

"Well, escuse me fur tryin'."

"That wasn't trying. That was dumb." Jim emphasized the 'b' sound in dumb, and it made Leonard's eyes twitch.

"You're dumb."

"No, I'm dumb," Jim argued.

"Exactly."

"What?"

Spock apparently recovered from the sight of them, and now cleared his throat very pointedly. Both of the officers jumped at the sound. "Captain, Doctor," Spock greeted, hands going to clasp behind his back. "You both look ... ill."

"Tha's right, Mr. Spock," Leonard agreed quickly. "We're sick with, uh, a ba' case of, um, flu. I's prettabad, actually."

"Is that your medical opinion?" Spock inquired. The doctor caught sight of Sulu covering his mouth and trying not to laugh.

"Well," Leonard started, "soruf."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Sort of?"

Leonard thought it'd be a real nice thing if Jim joined in the conversation. Said something along the lines of 'I'm the captain, and blah blah, I order myself and Bones to Sickbay', but Jim had a knack for only being the captain when it suited him.

"Inuhway, all my opinions are medcull opinions 'cause I'm a medic?" Leonard decided, crossing his arms and trying not to throw up again.

"You are a doctor."'

He shrugged. "Same thing."

"In fact, they are not."

"In fact, they are, Spock."

"In fact, they are not."

"Spock," Leonard pointed an unsteady finger at him. "They are."

"Negative."

"Not negative. Positive." Sulu was most definitely laughing now, the damned traitor, and Chekov seemed on the verge of joining in. Uhura's expression was disturbingly pleased, and Scotty was ... what the hell, was he recording this?

"I believe our conversation has exhausted itself, Doctor. Perhaps you would like to escort yourself and the captain to Sickbay to heal the ... flu you both appear to be suffering from?" All the indignation left Leonard's body. Spock was the best. Spock was the greatest damn thing since sliced bread.

Spock was giving them an out?

"Tha's a gud-idea," Leonard agreed, taking Jim's arm again.

"I will, of course, expect a report about this disease later today," Spock added, because he was actually just a green-blooded bastard.

"Of course you will."

M'Benga had appeared far, far too smug when the officers staggered into Sickbay. He continued to look that way the rest of the day, of which Leonard spent the entire time holed up in his office hiding from his irritatingly amused staff. Jim had been sent on his way, cured of the effects of the Saurian brandy, but only after Leonard had assured himself that everything between them really was fine.

"We good?" he'd asked. He knew that things weren't perfect. One night of drinking wasn't going to change what had happened, but maybe that was okay. Maybe things had to be different because they were different. All Leonard needed to know, at the end of the day, was whether they were still friends. Whether he could still expect Jim to call him Bones and irritate him into an early grave.

That was all the doctor asked for.

"We're good," Jim had answered, like it had been the simplest thing in the world. And hell, maybe it was? Either way, the doctor felt better than he had since Deneva. A few days later, when he realized Joanna had sent him a written message from Earth, he even found himself excited and happy. Maybe he'd been avoiding Penelope, wary of how the confrontation about Jim might play out, but every other thing just seemed to just fall back into place.

That was until he read the damn message from his damn daughter.

Hi, Dad.

...

Dad? What happened to Daddy? Leonard spent a long damn time reading that sentence. He read it over and over again. Two words? Did that qualify as a sentence? Hi, Dad. Dad. What the hell?

Hi, Dad.

I miss you a lot. I hope you and Uncle Jim are okay.

I saw Grannie last week, and she showed me holos of you when you were my age. You looked funny, and your haircut was ugly. Mom said you still look funny, but she was joking, don't worry.

I made a painting in art class, and I got an award. It's stupid, and art is a stupid subject. Mom's keeping the painting, but I told her she couldn't hang it up. We argued about it, so I let her put it in the guest bathroom above the toilet so people can look at it while they pee.

My friend Sierra made a picture, too, but her mom didn't care what we did with it. We set it on fire behind the school -

What in God's name? She had what?

We set it on fire behind the school, and I got detention for a week. Mom's really mad at me, and now I'm grounded for a month. Way I figure, if the principal already gave me a week's detention, then Mom shouldn't ground me at all. Maybe you could talk to her? The picture was bad, even worse than mine. And we were real careful about the fire, too. I don't really get what the problem is.

Okay. I guess that's all that's new.

You should really tell Mom to un-ground me.

Love,

Joanna

Burying his head in his hands, Leonard considered the logistics of lighting something on fire in a school zone. How on Earth had she managed to get her hands on something that could do that? He didn't even know what it could've been, security being as it was. And who the fuck was this Sierra person? Yeah, he was going to talk to Pam, but not for any reason Joanna was going to like.

Dad. What a disgusting word. Next week, it would be Father. Might as well just call him Dr. McCoy like Spock did and be done with it all. MD, PhD and all.

No wait: hey you, even better.

"Dr. McCoy?"

Iyer stood in the doorway. God, cause she was just who he needed to see right then. She leaned back and looked at her nails, waiting for him to say something.

"Yes?" he finally bit out when she continued to do nothing but peer down at her hands. Her gaze flicked up to him once, dismissively.

"Waters is here. She's got a burn or something -" Or something? It was kind of her job to know what the something was "- and she's arguing with M'Benga about it. Figure you'd want know." Without waiting to be dismissed, Iyer pushed up from the wall and walked away. He took a few calming breaths, willing himself to believe that Iyer didn't actively try to irritate him. With a great deal of effort, Leonard lifted himself from his desk and made his way out of his office. M'Benga had presumably given up trying to reason with a red-faced Penelope because he was currently seated in the corner of the room, facing the computer and jamming in information with a scowl. Instead of fighting with the doctor, she was currently arguing in circles with Paz.

"I don't need surgery for a burn!"

Paz looked on the verge of screaming. "Have you even looked at your hands?" Leonard glanced down at them himself, but there were turned in a way that hid any injury from view.

"They don't even hurt," Penelope argued, and if she wasn't lying, then that was bad.

"You might think that's a justification for not getting treatment, but it's actually the opposite," Paz's voice had quieted, but Leonard thought it must've taken her a great deal of effort.

"That doesn't even make sense."

"I told you to keep your hands up," she admonished, grabbing the engineer's forearms and lifting them for her.

"Sorry!" Penelope yelled in a way that sounded not sorry at all. In that moment, Paz finally appeared to notice Leonard's presence in the room. She gave him a look that said this is your problem. Following the nurse's gaze, Penelope also seemed to realize for the first time that he was there. She paled a little. "McCoy," she greeted coolly. He quickly concluded that him yelling at her for being an idiot in front of everyone just wasn't going to work out well, so he waved her over and directed her into the privacy of his office.

If he hadn't been a doctor, the sight of her cracked, angry red, raw palms would've scared him. Plasma burns, goddammit, and she chose to act like that?

"I'm fine, Leonard," she insisted as soon as the door had closed.

He tried to steady his voice when he answered because one look at her told him just how not fine she really was. The only reason she could possibly be up and about right then meant that someone had already pumped her full of drugs.

"Words cannot explain how pissed off I am at you right now."

Penelope's eyes widened in surprise. "Yeah, well," she started, "I'm not exactly happy with you either." Saying something stupid last week did not compare to her punching Jim or her refusing surgery when she really needed it. He was not the one in the wrong, and it made him want to kick something to think that she was putting him in that position.

Leonard rubbed his temple, trying with great difficulty not to explode. "Don't, okay? Just don't." It took him a moment to recover, so instead of focusing on her, he focused on her hands. "You know the longer you keep M'Benga from fixing that, the longer you'll be off-duty?"

"Is that some kind of a threat?" Penelope asked, and Leonard had to cross his arms and grip his shirtsleeves. Was she deliberately trying to irritate him? Recovery would happen more rapidly the sooner she went into surgery. Even she knew that.

"That's a fact."

They were both silent after that. Then, Leonard asked desperately, "Why are you being like this? Do you want another doctor to perform the surgery? McLean can do it if you're uncomfortable with M'Benga."

Penelope wouldn't meet his eyes. "I don't care who does it."

"Then what is this about?"

"I just ..." she trailed off. Her cheeks reddened, not with anger but with embarrassment. "I just don't want to be put to sleep, okay?"

Leonard blinked. That's all? She had caused all that trouble because she didn't want to be put to sleep? He tried to be understanding, really he did, but he just couldn't help but raise his voice when he responded. "Oh, for the love of all that's holy, Penelope! I'll tell them not to, but did you even ask them about it?"

"No."

"No," he repeated, clutching his head with one hand. "No? Are you fucking serious?"

Frowning, she answered. "Yes, I am. And stop swearing at me. It's rude, and I've told you before I don't like it."

"Well, I'm sorry then," Leonard spat.

"Thank you," Penelope returned in a similarly hostile tone.

"You're welcome!"

There had been a plasma fire in one of the jeffries tubes. Penelope had gone in, evacuated all the other engineers, and then she'd gone back. The report didn't say why. When she had come back the last time, her hands were burned, like she'd reached out and grabbed something on fire, but she had been fully conscious and aware. She'd been sent to Sickbay at 14:25 exactly. She'd arrived fifteen minutes later.

It didn't take fifteen minutes to get from Engineering to Sickbay.

Leonard wanted to throw the PADD at the wall because M'Benga's report from surgery said it would be a week before she could go back to work, and if she'd come to Sickbay right away, that recovery time might be cut in half. Maybe more, if she'd of just communicated with his staff instead of screaming at them.

It was so stupid how much he cared. It was so goddamn stupid how mad he was, and she was just plain goddamn stupid.

Later that night in her quarters, she continued to prove that point to him.

"I don't need you to lecture me about safety -"

"Clearly, someone has to -"

"You just enjoy telling me I'm wrong. Admit it," Penelope insisted, pacing the room when she should've been lying down, "you get a kick out of being right."

Leonard groaned from his spot on her bed. "Everyone gets a kick out of being right."

"But you always have to be," Penelope practically hissed.

Yeah, well, he'd never claimed to be perfect.

"Would you stop moving around? You'll end up tripping and hitting your hands on something," Leonard pleaded in exasperation.

Penelope stopped and nodded, but she still refused to sit down. "Right. Sorry," she muttered, for once actually sounding sincere. When they'd first gotten together, it was like she didn't even know what that word meant. "What were we talking about?"

"Why did you go back into that fire, Penelope?" Leonard asked for about the millionth time that night. Every time he brought it up, she changed the subject. It infuriated him, and that made him say something idiotic which made her angry, and they just kept going in a loop. "And don't," he added as she opened her mouth, "answer that question with a question."

Penelope sighed. "You're going to get mad."

"I think we're both already beyond just mad at this point," he reminded helpfully.

"Well, I went back because - because," she stammered, looking anywhere but his face, "Ileftmywrenchbehind."

"What?" he asked, not quite making out what she'd said.

"I left my wrench behind," she admitted in a sigh. "It's my favorite one, and it's important to me."

Leonard buried his face in his hands and groaned again. "Oh my God." A wrench. She'd gone back for a goddamn wrench?

"You can't tell anyone, okay?" she began quickly. "I'd be in so much trouble if Scotty found out that's why. I mean to the point that he might try and transfer me," Leonard highly doubted that, "so please, just, I know you're upset, but can you keep it to yourself?" She tried to sit down next to him, but now it was his turn to start pacing.

"You went back for a tool?" he clarified, just to make sure they were completely clear on the whole situation.

"It's not just a tool. It's," her eyes searched the ground, "it was a gift from someone a long time ago. It's gotten me out of a lot of bad times."

There was no right way to respond to what she had just told him, or maybe there was, but he was just too upset to think of it right then. So he said nothing and sat back down, crossed his arms and tried not to speak. Whatever came out of his mouth was just going to piss her off. "What are you really mad about, Leonard?" Penelope wondered with a knowing expression. "It's not just this," she said, waving her hands in a way that made him flinch, "because you've been avoiding me again, so what is it?"

He breathed through his nose. "I overheard you and Jim talking down in Engineering a couple days ago," the doctor finally admitted.

"Oh."

"And before you ask," he continued quickly, "it was an accident. I had to ask Scotty a question and ended up nearly running into the two of you."

"Oh." She repeated the sound with more emphasis, a distraught frown pulling at her lips.

Gripping his knees, Leonard turned to face her completely. "I don't need you defending my honor, or however you wanna justify what you did. It wasn't your place to do that, nor did I ask you to." She said nothing, only frowned at her wrapped hands.

"I hadn't planned on hitting him," she admitted slowly, quietly. That made him feel slightly better. It took a while for her to continue, but Leonard was willing to give her that time. It had been days since everything with Jim, and the initial fury he'd felt towards her had lessened. If she needed to take a few minutes to decide what to say, then Leonard could wait. "I took it too far," Penelope finally bit out. "I was just so ... I don't even know what. But for so long you were walking around like somebody had broken you, and I wanted to make it better. If I could do it all over, I wouldn't have touched him. You have to believe that. You have to believe I regret what I did more than you could ever know, and that it will never happen again." Her bright green eyes were so intense, baring into his, willing him to take her at her word.

He did. Goddammit, he did, and maybe he was a fool for doing so. "Okay, I believe you." He wondered if she was even aware how much relief flooded into her face. The way her gaze lit up, looking at him like his response meant a lot to her, like he meant a lot to her, made the fight drain out of him. "Do I win the argument now?" Leonard asked, trying to lighten the mood.

She smiled and bumped his shoulder with her own, still being careful of her burns. "No. Uhura told me at lunch once that the girlfriend always wins the arguments. She is a very smart person, I think."

"She's basing that on Spock, and he is always wrong," Leonard argued, a smile tugging at him despite himself. Penelope laughed a little before scooting up the bed and finally lying down. He joined her a moment later, and side by side they waited for the other to speak.

"You love Spock," she stated as they both stared up at the white ceiling of her quarters.

"He's the worst person I've ever met."

"That wasn't a no," Penelope commented lightly, and he could feel her eyes on his face. He wondered, just for a moment, if they were really talking about Spock.

"I guess it wasn't. Though I'll be damned if he ever finds that out," Leonard grumbled, meeting her eyes. "It'd go straight to that overgrown ego of his."

She smiled at him, and it was a new kind of smile, and he never wanted to leave that place, that moment with her. "Leonard, I hate to break this to you, but I think he already knows."

Another two weeks later, after an away mission that ended with Uhura and a broken collarbone - and an irritated Vulcan first officer at that, shore leave had never been so welcome. They had docked last night at Deep Space 2, the furthest starbase from Earth in the Federation, for routine repairs and some other engineering reasons that Penelope tried to explain. He'd understood around ten percent of what she'd told him, content to let her rant about this and that without really listening. Currently, he, Uhura, and Scotty were playing a game of high card pool while Jim and Spock competed in yet another game of chess.

Seriously, how many damn rounds would it take until Jim admitted defeat?

"What'll you bet?" Uhura asked, leaning back in her chair and clutching her cards to her chest. Leonard smirked, matching the original ante and adding in a lot more poker chips for good measure. She shook her head. "You sure are bold, McCoy."

"Gotta spend credits to make 'em," Leonard replied, eyes flicking over to Scotty, the dealer for the evening and pretty much every evening for as long as he'd known the engineer.

"I feel it's pointless to remind you all that betting aboard a starbase is illegal outside of casinos?" Jim asked absently as he moved a pawn down a level. Spock made a humming noise and immediately grabbed his knight to place another level below. Jim sighed, placing his head in his hand.

Scotty chuckled. "This isn't real credits, Jimbo, only ma old chips from when I was a wee lad." Though they had all agreed beforehand that they signified the same thing, Leonard supposed what Jim didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Hell, kid probably knew but didn't care ... And when Scotty said wee lad, Leonard began to wonder just how young they were talking?

In response, Jim kicked back in his chair and crossed his arms. Leonard rolled his eyes and addressed the Chief. "You gunna show me my winning card?" Scotty chuckled, flipping up another card from the deck. Clapping once, the doctor took his chips back twofold, revealing a jack of spades. Uhura scoffed.

"You're such a cheater," she accused, placing her own bet on the table and waiting for Scotty to finish his drink

"I'm lucky," he insisted.

"No you aren't," Jim disagreed, eyes still glued to the chess board. Leonard flicked a chip with his finger, and it hit Jim on the nose. "Ow." He rubbed the spot, and Leonard laughed.

"How's that for luck?"

Spock murmured quietly from his chair, "After factoring in the doctor's lack of sobriety and his previously established poor aim, I calculated only a six point seven eight percent chance of him succeeding, Captain. Does that qualify as luck?" Leonard thought Spock pulled those numbers straight out of his ass, but they worked out in his favor sort of, so he didn't really care.

"Yes it does, Mr. Spock," Leonard said at the same time as Jim stated, "Absolutely not." They glared at each other halfheartedly before Jim turned back to the chessboard and flipped his king down.

"I have not even called check yet," Spock commented as Jim stood from his spot.

The captain laughed a dry sound and then tipped back the remainder of his whiskey glass into his mouth. He made a visible wince as he placed it back down onto the table. "You would have in five moves. Figure I'd surrender while I still had my dignity," Jim said with a small smile that looked like it was more for Spock than himself. Together, the two officers set away the chess pieces.

"McCoy?" Uhura's voice drew his gaze back to the game.

"Huh?" he asked in kind.

She motioned toward their own table. "It's your turn." Leonard sighed tiredly.

"I think I'm done for the night," the doctor admitted, watching Jim leave Spock and Uhura's quarters in somewhat of a slump.

"We're in the middle of a game," she reminded him, but he just shook his head.

"Just split the credits - uh, I mean chips," he corrected quickly at Spock's raised eyebrow, "between yourselves."

Scotty grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. "Don't mind if we do, right Uhura?" The communications officer shrugged.

"Fine by me. I guess this is goodnight then?"

Nodding, Leonard polished off his own whiskey. "Yeah. Night all," he waved to the group as he grabbed the jacket off the back of his seat.

"Goodnight," Scotty intoned, gathering up his chips. Spock, who probably believed such a saying was sentimental and illogical, only dipped his head down an inch in farewell. "Oh and McCoy," the engineer called out as the doctor approached the door, "remind Wrenchy to meet me tomorrow morning in C Section. Something to do with the cooling system, she'll know what I'm talking about. Talorak's bringing coffee, tell her that, too. Might make her less grumpy.'"

Leonard waved his hand up to show he got the message as he left. He tugged on his jacket, meandering down the cramped hall of the starbase and trying to remember where the bar was located. When he finally spotted a map along the corridor, Leonard managed to find the place and the path down to it. The doctor arrived in the still bustling business just as the bartender handed Jim his drink. A live band played something upbeat in the upper corner of the dark room, and Leonard plopped down in the stool next to Jim without a word.

Sipping his amber colored drink, Jim didn't even look at him. Leonard spun a bit in his chair, and when the bartender came to ask what he'd have, the doctor motioned towards whatever the hell it was Jim had gotten. "Just 'cause Spock kicked your ass again in chess doesn't give you the right to be a mopey bastard," Leonard said while the bartender turned around.

He received a wary grin from the captain in response. "I've had mopey bastard rights from the day I was born."

"Don't we all?" Leonard supposed, and that got him a small chuckle.

"Hey, I'm not stopping anybody," Jim started, but then a group of women walked by, and so of course he had to turn around and grin at them. "Jim Kirk," he greeted with a stupid smirk, and Leonard rolled his eyes. His drink was placed on the counter in front of him, and Leonard said his thanks before sipping it. Tasted like something not from Earth, but it still tasted like hard liquor, so Leonard twisted his lips before putting it back down.

"Why do you still think your name is a pick up line?"

Jim spun back to face him. "Because it works," he stated before ordering another set of drinks for them both. Leonard thought Jim might be drinking a little too often these days, and a little too much every time he did. "Hmm, you've got that look on your face, Bones."

"What look?"

"The disapproving one," Jim answered. The song ended, and Leonard's ear filled instead with the sound of people talking and laughing. "Is it the women or drinking or the fact I'm obsessed with chess?"

Leonard sipped his drink again. "Two for three."

Jim sighed in defeat. "About the chess, Bones, it's just not what it looks like, okay?"

"Be serious for once," Leonard tried.

"Serious is my middle name," Jim shot back, finishing his drink and starting on the next one. "James Serious Kirk."

"Funny."

"I always like to think so," Jim said around the time the band started up again. The tune came across less cheerful and more like the sound of something slowly coming to a close. Leonard sighed and rested the glass against his fingers, letting the water droplets on the edges touch his skin. "Alright, who's being the mopey bastard now? I know when to stop myself with this," Jim gestured towards his drink, "because it's disgusting, and as for the other thing, well, it's not like Carol's waiting for me."

"Did you expect her to?" Leonard asked, only because of the bitter tone in Jim's voice at the last part.

Jim laughed a strange sound before knocking the second drink back in one go. "Not really," he admitted.

"But you wanted her to?" the doctor pushed in a knowing way.

"I want a whole bunch of things," Jim said slowly, staring at a spot on the counter, "but I'm not a fool enough to think I'll get them all." Leonard didn't know if there was any real way to refute that, so instead he just finished his own drink and waited. If Leonard waited long enough, Jim always ended up saying what he needed to. This time, though, Jim only slapped Leonard on the back. "You go on, Bones. I'm staying a while longer."

Shaking his head, Leonard tried to protest. "I can stay."

"Go to bed. You deserve a break from babysitting me every now and again," Jim laughed, but Leonard didn't feel it was real enough to ease his concern. "I'll pay for your drink, just go on."

"I don't mind -"

"Well I do," Jim announced a little too harshly. He added in a more conciliatory tone of voice, "I just need some time alone. It's not your fault, I'm sorry. Just ... I need some time."

Leonard nodded, picking himself up of the bar stool and patting Jim on the arm. "I got you. Have a nice night, Jim."

"See you later," Jim returned, tipping the third glass towards him. On the way back to his rooms aboard the starbase, Leonard nearly ran into M'Benga and Neil which turned out to be a very awkward encounter he'd sooner forget. He just had to bleach his eyeballs, that was all. Nothing too serious. When he finally arrived back, Leonard toed off his shoes and left them by the door, along with his socks and jacket. There was a blanket-covered lump in the bed, and instead of changing, he just went ahead and crawled under the covers. Penelope stirred at his presence.

"Leon'd, wa' time s'it?" she asked, blinking her eyes open. They'd decided to just share a room for the week as it would be more efficient. Penelope's wording, not his, because she'd been the one to suggest it.

The thought made him grin like kind of an idiot.

"Late," he admitted, tugging her to him.

"Oh," she said into the pillow with a little more coherence. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah. Scotty said something about C Section and tomorrow morning and coffee," Leonard relayed the condensed information to her, already feeling comfortable enough to fall asleep. "Did you have fun?" She had spent her night with people's who's names he couldn't even remember if he'd been fully awake and sober.

"I did. Are you drunk?" Penelope wondered, helping him out of his shirt and pants.

"Not really," he lied. Jim's fault.

She snorted in disbelief. "Sure. You're not already half-asleep either I guess?" He shook his head, another lie, and pulled her back to where she'd been. "Goodnight," Penelope whispered because she wasn't Spock. She wasn't, but he was pretty sure he loved her anyways. If she had said anything more to him, he didn't hear it because that thought had jarred him.

Loved her?

Oh hell. Oh hell.

"Penelope," he tried to shake her awake. He should just say it. Get it over with. She would hate him. Didn't matter.

"Shhh," she sounded annoyed. "Go'sleep."

"Penelope, come on," Leonard insisted, but she only shook her head and scooted away from him. He followed. "I've got to tell you something." Finally, she pulled up onto her elbows, and even in the dark, he could see the way she was glaring at him.

"What is so important that you have to tell me now?"

Well, at that point, it just didn't seem like the right time. Leonard didn't want to say it while she looked that pissed off at him. "Nevermind."

"No," Penelope said quickly, "not nevermind. You don't get to wake me up and say nevermind."

"Just, well," the doctor shrugged, "nevermind."

Leonard could almost hear her mentally cursing him to a horrible death. "Leonard."

"Penelope."

"I'm going back to sleep now," she told him seriously. "If you have any more of these neverminds to tell me, please save them until morning and not before I've had about four cups of coffee."

"That's not very healthy."

"Remind me never to try and talk to you while your drunk," Penelope muttered as she rolled over and stole the blankets. Letting her take them, Leonard laid out fully on his back and closed his eyes. He'd tell her tomorrow. Or maybe the day after. Or maybe after shore leave was over. Or maybe never. She'd hardly agreed to go on a date with him this week, so how in the hell was he supposed to say 'I love you' without her freaking out?

He ended up with very little sleep that night.

A/N: Hello! Thanks to everyone as always, and I'll be putting up this chapter and the next today (its my birthday, and I'm happy, so hopefully these will make you happy, too), so this will be the AN for them both. The last two are still a work in progress, (a very slow, painful work in progress) but they will happen. I'm very determined about the whole thing. So until then, have a nice week and a nice Labor Day weekend (if you're in the US) and eat something delicious! :)