"Are you coming, Doctor?" Nurse Chapel stuck her head around the door to McCoy's office. "We're all set, you can start anytime."

"Be right there, give me another minute," the doctor replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen, where he was studying a display of intricately intertwined organs.

He was scared. Honest to God terrified. Sure, this was not the first time he found himself in a situation like this. Actually, quite a number of medical procedures he'd had to perform since joining Starfleet had been a first for him. And that wasn't even counting the Horta. Operating on Sarek, for example. That had been a tough one, and while the Enterprise had been under attack, too. But then, Vulcan organs were not that different from those of humans, just in different locations. Plus, he'd had years of at least theoretical knowledge, even if he hadn't performed that exact procedure on a Vulcan before.

And, of course, there was Spock, who'd kindly provided more opportunities for hands-on practice over the years than McCoy cared to remember. With him being a hybrid, and thus unique in his physiology, fixing Spock had always been a challenge. Fortunately, one he'd mastered every time so far. And even though he liked to make fun of the first officer and the layout of his internal organs, McCoy had made it his priority to know everything there was to know about the differences between Humans, Vulcans, and his unique friend Spock.

What he was supposed to do now, however, was something else entirely. The ambassador, who had barely been responsive when McCoy had arrived in sickbay and was now in an induced coma, needed part of his digestive organs removed instantly. Before whatever they were infested with could spread to the other organs, the functions some of which fulfilled the doctor didn't even comprehend. Fact was, they were all located scarily close together, overlapping even, and McCoy had no idea what would happen if he inadvertently damaged any of them while operating. He'd rarely felt so insecure. At least not in his capacity as a doctor.

Part of him wished that Hope were still working in sickbay. He could certainly use her moral support now. She had this way of grounding him, of keeping him focused, of making him grow beyond himself. But on the other hand, he was quite relieved that she wasn't here to see him like this. Dithering and shaking with nerves.

Sure, she'd seen all his flaws, seen him at his weakest only recently, when he'd broken down over Joanna. But the one thing she still had full trust in were his medical skills. And somehow that was incredibly important to him. He couldn't bear the thought of her losing that. It's what he was. A doctor, a healer. He needed to excel at that.

McCoy just couldn't help it, protecting and staying strong were the sine qua non of his very existence. It was his default make-up, what he lived for. He couldn't be strong all the time, of course, couldn't protect everyone from everything. He'd made his peace with that over time. But he could, no he needed to be the best physician there was.

As for Hope, he wanted to be her rock, her safe haven, her protector, more than anything else. But he'd learned to live with not always being able to fill that role. Had accepted that sometimes it was okay to let her take care of him. What he desperately needed, however, was to see in her eyes this utter trust and belief in him and his abilities as a healer.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The ambassadors, especially those of newer planets to the Federation, provided a myriad of new information for the intuitive enhancement of the universal translator, and Jenny was in the middle of a meeting with her team when Christine called.

"We need you down here," was all she said, but Jenny knew immediately that this was about McCoy.

Excusing herself from the meeting, she hurried towards sickbay and found Christine already waiting for her outside.

"Has something happened to Leonard?" she asked, her whole body trembling with fear and adrenaline.

"No, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Christine quickly replied, resting a reassuring hand on her arm, "but I think he needs you now. He has to perform this obscenely complex operation, and I've never seen him so nervous, so reluctant. Time is of the essence, and I think he could do with a little confidence boost."

"All right, I'll see what I can do," Jenny smiled, exhaling sharply with the relief of learning that the emergency was nothing to do with McCoy being hurt or in any kind of danger.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Anything I can do for you, before you're off to your next brilliant performance?" she smiled as she sauntered into McCoy's office.

The doctor snorted and briefly glanced at her.

"Sorry, love, can't talk. Gotta get started," he said, his gaze returning to the screen, and when she stepped behind him to peer over his shoulder, he added with a worried frown, "Did you need anything?"

Count on him to worry about her on top of everything else.

"No, Leonard, I'm all right," she was quick to assure him. "Just checking in on my favourite doctor."

Jenny could see that he was itching to get going, yet uncharacteristically hesitant to leave his desk, and her heart went out to him.

"This is what you're up against?" she asked softly, trying to make sense of the display.

"Mhmm," McCoy nodded slowly, heaving a sigh.

"Not that I'm an expert, of course, but that's not your usual layout of organs, is it?" she probed carefully.

"That's the understatement of the year," he mumbled, lifting one corner of his mouth into a wry grin.

"Care to show me what you're intending to do?"

"I need to remove this part here," he indicated one of the blobs on the screen, "without so much as grazing any of the other organs, a damn near impossible feat, considering how interwoven they all are."

He looked tired, and Jenny had to fight an urge to take him in her arms and just hold him tight.

"What happens if you do?"

"I don't have the faintest idea," he sighed. "That's just it. What if I get it wrong, and he dies before I even know what I'm doing?"

"And if you don't operate now? If you wait for a healer from his planet?"

"Then he'll die for sure, he doesn't have that much time."

"So, there's your answer. Exactly what you told me, when I thought I couldn't do field surgery on Chekov. That was my first – and hopefully last – time, too, and I did it!"

"But that was different."

"How?"

"You had me right there in the next cage, guiding you through every single move."

"That's right, and I was very grateful for that. But it still was no walk in the park for me."

"I know," he relented, briefly cupping her face in his hand, and Jenny felt a bout of affection ripple through her at the tenderness of his touch.

"Treating Chekov might not have seemed difficult from your point of view. But then, you're a surgeon with years of experience. Decades even," she teased, happy to elicit a huff and a little grin from McCoy. "And you're certainly not squeamish or almost have to throw up at the mere thought of digging into someone's innards."

"You're right, love, I've got everything going for me," he smirked, lifting himself out of his chair, and Jenny was happy to hear his voice sounding firm again. "Enough with the dilly-dallying."

"You're the best doctor in the galaxy, Leonard. If there's someone who can pull this off, it's certainly you," Jenny wrapped her arms around his waist to give him a quick hug. "I'd put my life in your capable hands any day."

That was obviously the right thing to say, she thought, relieved, when she felt his lips brush a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

"Do you want me to give Christine a hand?" she asked on impulse. "Just in case something unexpected happens? We used to be quite a good team."

"Would you?" the doctor looked up, and Jenny could see his shoulders relaxing a little at her suggestion. "I've actually got someone else lined up already, but I wouldn't mind having you there, too. As backup, so to speak, someone who's able to think on their feet."

"Give me a minute to get ready," Jenny beamed and ran out of his office.

She'd never even known how much he valued her assistance. But she had to admit she was awfully flattered.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The procedure turned into a marathon operation, and there were several moments when it was touch and go. But having Hope by his side, with her unswerving faith in him, he couldn't help but feel optimistic, too. She'd been right. He did have decades of experience, had pulled the odd rabbit out of the hat before, and was definitely able to get this right. He had this.

Hope was a real blessing, but she wasn't only there for emotional support. Even without proper training as a nurse, she'd always had a knack for knowing how to make herself useful without having to be told. Like feeding him and Chapel nutrition bars and liquids for sustenance as time moved on. Or endlessly wiping beads of perspiration off their foreheads and pushing aside stray hairs that pricked their eyes or tickled their ears. Taking care of little annoying things like that, and generally providing everything they needed while disposing of things they didn't.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her repeatedly exchanging meaningful glances with Chapel. If he knew his head nurse right, it had probably been Christine who'd called Hope to sickbay in the first place. And he was more than grateful for that. Hope's presence was immensely reassuring. It was what kept him going and confident even when his mind was screaming with the impossibility of this turning out successful.

Almost seven hours later, they were done. Part of the organ neatly removed, and the ambassador still, if barely, alive. McCoy was dead on his feet and gratefully sank into a chair one of the orderlies had placed next to the ambassador's bed. There was no way, of course, that he would leave his patient's side anytime soon, and so he didn't object when Hope pulled up a chair next to his and sat down, handing him a steaming cup of coffee and a sandwich.

For the next few hours, she kept him awake with all sorts of funny stories, most of which he was sure he wouldn't be able to remember the next day. But Hope, being Hope, had of course noticed his mind wandering off all the time and, with a loving smile, told him not to worry. By the time they were old and grey, he was bound to have heard those same stories several times over, anyway. She was the sweetest, most supportive partner he could imagine, and he fantasised about laying his weary head down in her lap and just go to sleep there.

When six hours later the ambassador was still stable, and McCoy had almost nodded off as many times in his chair, Hope and Chapel ganged up on him and tried to convince him to go back to his quarters for a couple hours of shut-eye in his own bed. And knowing that he was in no fit state to fight the collective force of the two women, he surrendered.

So, with Jenny promising to wake him up after two hours sharp, and Christine vowing not to leave the ambassador's side and to call him the moment there was the slightest change in his condition, the doctor followed Hope out of sickbay and to his quarters. There he fell straight into bed, fully clothed, and smiled weakly as he felt his boots and uniform pants gently being pulled off, quickly followed by his blue medic shirt.

There was an awkward moment when Hope slid into bed next to him and started to run her hands all over his clammy, exhausted body, caressing and massaging, and the alarm must have shown on his face, because she started to laugh.

"Don't worry, Leonard," she chuckled fondly, as the touch of her gentle hands started to relax him, "I'm not expecting you to … er … you know what. But I happen to know, and I have it on good authority, that you fall asleep faster and wake up better rested with a certain, very lucky lady snuggled up in your arms."

"You might have a point there, love," he drawled, rolling onto his side and wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer.

He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, but was out like a light before he could get another word out.