Chapter Twenty-Five: In which Bones is stubborn but Camille is more so, Sulu plays wise counselor, Bones has another dad moment - because we all need more of those, the past is laid to rest once and for all, and there is fluff.

Here's the last official chapter! Come back on Monday for the epilogue, and, as always, there will be a preview of my next installment a week from today. Hopefully I'll have come up with a title for it by then...

Speaking of titles, hopefully you guys saw that I've chosen to call this series "Statistical Impossibilities", because let's face it, it's full of them! Let's talk about my intentions for it a bit more...

So, I'm going to go on hiatus with this series after the preview of #3 until 2017. I have my reasons for wanting to start the next year afresh with this particular installment, all of which I will actually include in my author's note beforehand. It's been rather a crazy year, I think for everyone involved, if social media is to tell me anything.

However, just because I'm not updating the main storyline until 2017, does not mean there won't be some of the one shots! (I'm thinking of just retitling that one Statistical Impossibilities, because why not? It's a companion to the series, after all! I have two in mind, which will be up on the 26th and 30th, hopefully.

Now, a word from our people:

Karina: So, you guys are awesome! Thanks for reading about our story!

Camille: We really hope you come back for the next one.

Bones: Sure, come back. If you want more near-death experiences, black holes, and pointy-eared hobgoblins.

Jim: Don't spoil it for them, Bones!

Chekov: They've seen ze mowie, Keptin. I'm pretty sure they know by now.

Jim: DON'T GIVE IT AWAY! THEY HAVEN'T READ THAT FAR! THEY DON'T KNOW THAT I'M CAPTAIN!

Karina: Movie, Jim. Movie.

browneyedgirl29: And with that little fourth-wall breaker, enjoy Chapter Twenty-Five!

"I'm telling you, woman, I'm fine to go back on shift!" Bones growled, attempting to get past Camille, who was blocking the way into the clinic. "Now let me by!"

"You most certainly are not!" Camille shot right back. In the way she had of paralyzing him with a touch, she put a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed him back through the hallways. "Now I don't care if you're not supposed to sleep that much, you have a concussion and you will at least rest for a while. Kapeesh?"

Bones groaned, throwing his hands up in the air, but still moving. It made a rather entertaining image for anyone passing them, the diminutive woman pushing along the six-foot-tall, solidly built doctor. He was putty in her hands, and she the easily amused child to do with him as she willed.

Eventually they made it to the coffee station. She parked his butt in a chair and leveled him with a gaze that would have struck fear into the heart of a much braver man than Bones. "Now stay put," she demanded, moving off to get them coffee.

Camille had had coffee with Bones often enough to know that he liked his strong and black. She wasn't into what was considered stereotypically "foofy" coffee like some women she knew, but she did like at least a bit of creamer in it. After entering her order in the processor, it took thirty seconds for the machine to yield their drinks to her.

Coming back with the steaming hot mugs, she sat down across from him and asked, "So how is your head, cowboy?"

Bones rolled his eyes, taking a huge swig of his drink. "As I was saying earlier, I am fine. This imposed period of rest is ridiculous. I should be going about my business like normal."

Camille mirrored the expression. "And yet if it were me with the concussion, you know you would be telling me to do the exact same thing, so can I be faulted?" Tilting her head, she considered her last statement. "No, on second thought, you don't know. There's no way you can be in your right mind at this point, right?"

Bones muttered, "Ignoring that." They passed the next few moments in companionable silence, then he asked, "So how is Karina? And her friend?"

Camille frowned and shook her head. "She's being stupid again," she replied.

Bones looked skeptical. "One thing that kid isn't is stupid," he said. "So if she's acting that way, we might need to do something about it."

Camille's jaw dropped. "This from the man who once accused me of interfering in her business. Where is this coming from?"

"Let's just say I've had a change of heart. Or that perhaps this merits a bit of interference. Either way, just tell me what's going on here, Cam, so I can actually come to that conclusion for myself."

Camille sighed, sitting back in her seat, and rolled her eyes. "Apparently something about the fact that his father killed her parents makes their friendship awkward or some ridiculous assumption."

Bones gave a snort of derision. "Is she serious?"

"It would appear so. Or at least, she thinks she is."

"It's not the kid's fault!" Bones exclaimed. "The sins of the father should never have to affect the son. Trust me, I should know." The words were out of his mouth before he could hold them back, and he snapped it shut, a look of regret on his face.

Camille leaned across to him. "You know, you don't have to hide from me. Wherever that came from, you can tell me."

His jaw set, and she threw her hands up in the air. "You, Leonard McCoy, are the most stubborn man I have ever met!"

"And you, Camille Osbourne, are the pot calling the kettle black," he poked back at her. The fire in her eyes dimmed when she saw the teasing in his. Deciding she should probably know at some point, he began to explain.

"My ex-wife, Nancy, and I, broke up after I got out of med school. We weren't married at that point, of course, just dating. She disappeared for a year and then showed up back on my doorstep, pregnant and feigning regret for leaving me. I was stupid enough to believe her.

"After the honeymoon, however – "

"She showed her true colors," Camille said. "I remember you telling me this."

He nodded. "Well, I still look on our daughter as my own, in spite of the fact that I have nothing but contempt for her mother and I'm not her father by blood. She might as well be mine. Nancy never cared for her. The only reason she came crawling back to me…" His face darkened in a glare that would have struck terror into anyone's heart but Camille's. "She never wanted Joanna. But her parents saw right through her charades and she couldn't afford an abortion. So she turned on the acting skills and came back to me."

Camille nodded and let it sit in silence for a few minutes, then asked, "But what does that have to do with the sins of the father not affecting the son…or daughter, in this case?"

"I just never wanted her mother's poor decisions to affect Joanna's life," Bones said, as though it should have been obvious. "Plus, my old man did enough in his life to affect me, even though I know he didn't intend to. I just…get it, you know?"

Camille eyed him thoughtfully. "Maybe you could be the one to talk to Kari, then."

Bones started. "Wait, me?"

"Yeah. She's started to tune me out. Maybe she's not as deaf to your voice as she is to me. She respects you, you know, Bones. I never knew what it was about you that made that so, exactly, until I realized: You're a dad. She senses that, and therefore respects and values your opinion. Not that she doesn't mine, she's just stubborn towards me."

Bones considered the matter, then nodded. "Okay…I'll do it."

Sulu had an inkling when he went to the track that day of what he'd find. And sure enough, there was Chekov, running laps like no one's business, completely oblivious to his approach. He wasn't quite sure, but he thought the kid seemed a bit more absorbed in it than normal.

The Academy wasn't exactly a gossip chain, but depending on who you knew, word traveled fast. Sulu had heard from Juliet, who had heard from Camille, about all that had gone down a week ago with Chekov's father and Karina and the tunnels. From what he understood, the older Mr. Chekov was being put away for a long time, and Sulu thought his younger friend would be a lot better off for it.

He'd also heard of Andrei's previous crimes…and how they connected to Karina. And how Karina felt about the matter.

Sulu sat down on a bench beside the track. Time to test just how absorbed Chekov was in his task at hand. As the Russian passed, Sulu raised a hand in greeting and, as he predicted, Chekov ran straight past. Sighing and shaking his head, Sulu stood up and cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Hey, Chekov!" he called, and Chekov literally skidded to a halt. Sulu waved him back and gestured for him to have a seat on the bench beside him.

The pair of them hadn't really interacted since the incidents of last week. In fact, Sulu was slightly jealous he hadn't gotten in on it. He knew that was an unfounded emotion, of course, but one that he couldn't help nonetheless. Not that he particularly thrived on adrenaline, or violence for that matter, but it sounded as though Chekov Sr. was a jerk. And he didn't enjoy seeing jerks win. What he wouldn't have given to be a part of taking him down.

Now that Chekov was there, though, Sulu wasn't quite sure how to address the topic. "So…." he said. "How's the phaser hit?"

Chekov unconsciously rubbed his head where his father's phaser beam had hit him. "Better," he said. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

"That's good," Sulu said. He was awful at this stuff. He knew that something needed to be addressed here, but he wasn't sure how to do it. Karina herself probably would have been better at it, but she wasn't going to do it anytime soon.

"I guess you got a taste of what it's like doing battle with Karina and her friends, too, then?" Sulu asked. "Kind of exhilarating, isn't it?"

Chekov shrugged, and Sulu wondered for a second if he hadn't understood. After all, he didn't really talk to Karina, so he had no way of knowing how far along the kid was in his English learning, but when Chekov responded, Sulu was forced to recall that assumption. Apparently Chekov was smarter than most people gave him credit for.

"Vould have been…except now she isn't speaking to me," he said in that heavily accented voice of his. "At all."

"Yeah, I heard about your dad and her parents," Sulu said. "That's not exactly something you can shove under the rug."

Chekov looked confused. "How vould you shove zat under a rug?"

Sulu groaned inwardly. "Figure of speech. Tell Karina she needs to go over that with you. Quickly."

"If she ewer actually talks to me again."

Sulu was silent for a few minutes. Once again, he realized just how bad he was at this sort of thing. But he was nothing if not a realist. He was incredibly skilled at waking up and smelling the coffee, something he wasn't sure was a trait of Chekov's. Sometimes he wished he weren't so good at it. But in that way, he sensed he could be good for his young friend, and vice versa.

"Look, I wish I could tell you that she'll come around eventually and stop being such a girl about this, but the truth is, I can't. Because I don't know. And she may not. But the fact of the matter is, even if she doesn't, I don't think your entire life is wrapped up in one friendship, is it?"

Chekov shrugged again. "You do know she vas ze first person to actually speak to me here at ze Academy, right?"

"That may be true, but now that you're learning English, you aren't just limited to her, are you?" Sulu asked. A thought occurred to him. Unless… Nah. He wasn't going to go there. There was really no reason to do so, as his point still stood regardless.

"Look, Chekov, I get it. She's your best friend, probably. But let's face it, kid, if she can't see that you're nothing like your father, and that she won't be betraying her parents to be friends with you, then she doesn't deserve your friendship. Say it was the other way around. Her father had killed yours. Would you pin that crime on her, as well?"

Chekov shook his head, and somehow Sulu knew it wasn't a lie, or an automatic response. Lying didn't appear to come naturally to Chekov. Which was a trait Sulu admired.

"There's your answer, then."

Sulu stood to prepare for his own laps around the track, and Chekov sat in silence for a while. When he finally spoke, it had been so long, Sulu had nearly forgotten he was there.

"So, you're saying I should just…let her come to me?"

Sulu nodded. "And if she doesn't, it's not like you're without friends here. You're welcome at my door anytime, kid. Now come on. I want to see if I've gotten any faster than the last time we raced."

Chekov, smiling for the first time that day, jumped to his feet and lined up beside Sulu. "Just keep telling yourself zat."

Karina heard the door buzz. She frowned. It wasn't like Cam to forget her key, and it wasn't in its normal place on her desk chair. Getting up off the bed, she opened it to find Bones standing there.

"Cam sent you, didn't she?" she asked, sighing in resignation.

He looked as though he was going to respond in the negative, then seemed to think "to the devil with it" and said, "Yeah, she did. Am I still welcome?"

Karina motioned him in, though she didn't necessarily look happy about the matter in general. Bones took a seat at her desk and she sat down across from him on her bed.

"Okay, kid. I'm not going to blast you with what I think. Tell me what you're thinking. Because Cam gave me her version of the story, what she's observed. But I want to hear it from your lips before I believe anything on my own."

Karina blew out a breath and watched her hair fly out of her face.

"What am I supposed to do here, Bones?" she said. "Andrei Chekov killed my parents. Wouldn't most people say that's reason enough that Pavel and I shouldn't be friends? I don't like it any more than he does, but I can't betray them."

Bones looked incredulous. "Karina, how is it betraying them? It's not like you're palling around with Andrei himself! The sins of the father shouldn't affect the son."

Karina frowned. "But, Bones…my parents are dead! He took them away from me! What am I supposed to do?"

"Get over it, maybe?" Bones snorted. Her eyes widened, and he only slightly regretted the possible insensitivity of that statement. But the ridiculousness of this entire issue was beginning to drive him batty.

"Look, Karina, I know if I try to force this on you, it'll only make you more likely to refuse to do so. So I'll tell you what I think, but I'll let you decide whether to act on it or not.

"I don't see why, if you knew before you escaped, if this is going to be such a big deal now, why it wasn't back then. Why didn't you want to get any trace of all things Chekov as far away from you as possible? It would have been simpler for you to just leave him behind and let his father haul him back to Russia. So why didn't you do that?"

Karina hung her head, silent. Bones pressed on.

"Kari, I saw you back there. You obviously care about the kid. You know that's not what I meant!" he exclaimed when she eyed him accusingly. "Come on, kid, I'm not Camille! What I mean is, do you remember your actions when you thought that phaser was set to kill? You about had a heart attack, okay? And might I add that he threw himself in front of it, thinking the exact same thing as you, because he knew if he didn't, you'd get hit?"

Karina was looking up at him now, tears forming in her eyes. "I remember, Bones."

"Great. You two have a great friendship going on here. Why mess with that?"

For the second time in a week, she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, and for the second time, he felt rather awkward about the whole matter, but let his dad instincts take over.

"You're right," she muttered.

"I usually am, yet people are always surprised," he replied.

"So what do I do now?" she asked.

"Well, first of all, you realize that your parents would probably want you to make peace with their passing and accept that they weren't around for your childhood. Then you do it. And then you go apologize to your friend for being a little bit of a brat. And you know I mean that in the best possible way, right?"

"No, you don't," she said, smiling up at him knowingly.

"Yeah, you're right. You were just kind of a brat. Nothing good about that."

"I know it," she said, regret in her eyes. "Thanks for knocking some sense into me, Bones."

"Sure, kid. That's what I'm around for."

Karina didn't particularly care that it was midnight. She'd made her peace with herself, with her parents' passing, and decided that it was satisfying enough for her that their killer was safely incarcerated. She didn't have to transfer her feelings of loathing for him to his son – one of her best friends.

Now it was time to mend that friendship.

She buzzed on the door and waited. There was no answer and she moved off to the side, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. It was rather difficult for her to keep still on normal occasions, but when she was nervous, it became doubly so.

Finally, after what seemed like eternities, the door slid open. Karina, who couldn't keep a healthy sleep schedule if she tried, found it hard to contemplate the fact that Pavel had obviously been asleep when she'd buzzed, but it was quite obvious from his tousled hair and slightly glazed over eyes, which were now widening in shock that she'd actually made the effort to seek him out.

The pair of them just stood there for a few minutes, until Karina finally broke the silence with, "Are you going to let me in or are we just going to stand here and let your room air out?"

She knew it probably sounded slightly mean, and winced. Adding to her already quite long list of failures in this friendship so far had definitely not been her intent when she'd come here, and she didn't intend to leave here with that being her only accomplishment. Fortunately, Pavel had tougher skin than she'd thought. He just nodded and let her in.

She sat down on the extra bed, but when he took a seat on the floor across from her, she slid down to join him on his level. This discussion would be better if she could look him in the eyes without either of them having to crane their necks.

Once again, there was more silence. It wasn't that Karina didn't know what she'd come here to say, she just was processing where to begin. I'm sorry for being such a brat, or I'm completely over the fact that your father killed my parents. Neither seemed quite adequate. And the latter certainly was not true. It still felt slightly odd to her that she had befriended the son of her parents' murderer.

She almost dared to hope that he would start the conversation, but after a few moments, Karina realized she should have known better. Of the pair of them, Pavel was the listener, and he wouldn't offer up his opinion on the matter until she spoke, if he did at all.

Sighing, she decided to just plow forward, devil-may-care. It was better than any other plan she had.

"So, how's life?" she asked, and then winced again.

He looked at her, confused, and when he spoke, his voice was incredulous.

"'How's life?'" he asked, a small smile tilting his mouth, slightly distilling his complete shock at her lame attempt at small talk. "I save your life, you ignore me for a week, and what you come up with is 'how's life'?"

"Technically the phaser wasn't set to kill," Karina muttered, looking down at the floor. It infuriated her to no end that she still had to point that out. Was tact completely unknown to her?

"You're missing the point," he said. Karina forced herself to look back up at him, and saw that the smile had grown slightly larger. She was halfway relieved, halfway slightly indignant. That little Russian punk was having a laugh at her expense right now! But at least he wasn't peeved beyond all belief.

She shook her head. "I'm glad I entertain you. Real glad."

He shrugged her sarcasm off. "It's not often I see you this nervous," he said. "You're usually the confident one."

Karina was a bit taken aback at that one. "I am?" she asked, confused.

"Well, in comparison."

"Fair enough. Okay, well, this is going to be awkward for me, so just humor me a little bit here." Sighing, she plowed forward. "I'mreallysorryI'vebeensuchabratthepastweekIjustwas dealingwithalotofcrapleftoverfromgrowingupwithoutmyparentsandknowingitwasyourfatherwho killedthemwasjustkindof – "

"Karina, slow down!" Pavel cut her off. "I understood…none of that."

Karina screeched to a halt and took a deep breath. "Okay. Let me try again. I'm sorry I've been such a brat. I was making an excuse for myself there, but there really is no excuse. No excuse whatsoever. I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "It's not that inexcusable. Our parents didn't exactly leave a great foundation for us to be friends, did they?"

"I know they didn't, but that doesn't change the fact that it was wrong of me to project that onto you. It's just…" She trailed off, and when she resumed speaking, her eyes were downcast and her voice was small. "You don't know what it's like," she said. "Growing up without your parents there. Having absolutely no family to speak of. It made me bitterer than I would like to admit. My mom told me once – in fact, it's one of the few things I remember her saying to me – that it was an accomplishment to stay soft in a hard world like this. And I always made it my goal to do that. I thought I'd done it.

"But that was because I pushed all those feelings of bitterness to the side, allowed them to fester. And once I was face to face with their murderer, and he just so happened to be the father of one of my best friends – " She cut off when his head snapped up at that one, and she smiled at him. "What? You don't think it fits?"

His formerly serious face erupted into that grin of his, and he said, "No. I think it fits perfectly."

There was yet another moment of silence, but it wasn't an uncomfortable one this time. Realizing she should probably get back to what she was saying, Karina abruptly continued.

"Anyway, the bitterness washed back over me, and I couldn't think straight. Of course, this was after we were out of the woods, you know. Once your father and Vladimir were behind bars. It just kind of hit the morning after. I somehow began to associate you with your father's crimes. And that was why I didn't talk to you at all. Can you see that?"

He nodded, but there was no condemnation in his eyes. Karina couldn't believe that she was actually forgiven for this. She'd acted as though his friendship meant so little to her, as though whatever the father did was automatically passed on to the son. And sitting there now, she had no idea how she could have been so ridiculous.

Because even though she'd only known Andrei Chekov for a short time, she'd known his son for long enough to know that the pair of them were nothing alike.

Karina was shocked when Pavel actually spoke, but, in a rare moment, he actually showed her what was behind the wall he normally built up about his past.

"You said I don't know what it's like…Actually, I do," he said. Karina frowned, and he continued. "I never told you…when my mother died, my father distanced himself. Pteechka was always his favorite, mostly because she looked like our mother. She takes after him, though…in any way that can be considered good. I'm the exact opposite. Look like him, take after our mother. For some reason I didn't manage to tame him the way she had, though."

The entire time he'd been speaking, the words had fallen out of him in a rush, though not quite as much as when Karina had spoken earlier. He now paused awkwardly, looking almost pained from what he'd told her. In that instant, Karina realized he was probably the most awkward person she'd ever known – including herself, which was an accomplishment. But it wasn't an altogether unfortunate quality. In fact, it was even more endearing.

"Anyway, now that I've said it, I realize that you probably had it worse than I did, because you never knew what your parents were like. But at least you didn't have one that you'd rather not know, right?" He gave a tiny smile, as though willing her to understand what he meant.

Karina nodded. "I guess neither of us has the best legacy going on here, right? So…" She pulled something from behind her, and his eyes widened as he saw what it was.

"Where in the name of the mother country did you get that?" he asked, reaching out for the box of blini pancakes she'd produced.

She shrugged. "I made them," she said. "Figured food's as good as anything for a peace offering."

Pavel stared at her, his jaw practically on the floor. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I had anything resembling good Russian food?"

Karina's face lit with a satisfied smirk. "I figured it had been a while. So, as I was saying, what do you think? Can the son of a Russian arms dealer and the daughter of an American CIA agent find it in them to look past their parents' past and be friends?"

He looked back and forth from her to the box in his lap and shook his head, his grin the biggest she'd ever seen it. "You crazy Americanka," he said.

"I try," she said. "Now, try those things, you little Russian punk! I want to hear how I did!"

He eyed her. "Have you ever actually…cooked before?"

"Details. Eat."

That night, Karina rolled over in bed and heard something crinkle under her pillow. Smiling, she reached underneath and took it out. A picture of her parents' smiling faces stared up at her. In her mother's arms rested a tiny bundle, and Karina knew that it was her as a baby.

A few days earlier, Captain Pike had called her into his office. Someone had apparently requested to see her. He wouldn't give his name, just said it was urgent.

The man had been from the CIA, in fact, he'd been her dad's superior.

"Great agent, your dad," he said. "Seriously, Anthony was one of my best. And I wish I'd looked into what had been done with you after their death. I really do. But, um…he gave me this, after you were born."

He'd given her the picture, almost shyly, though he didn't seem like a man who that term could be used to describe on a regular basis. She'd taken it and stared, wide-eyed at the image of her parents.

Her father was a tall, blonde, Scandinavian-looking man with a clean-shaven, baby face. Her mother, on the other hand, was a short, petite woman. Karina took in her mother's face and laughed softly.

"You look just like her, you know," he said. "Do you have any questions about them?"

She'd found out that her parents had met when they were thirteen, but hadn't dated until they were in their early twenties. Both of their parents were gone by that point – Mom's parents hadn't approved of Dad, and she was too respectful of them to oppose that view. "Can't imagine why," the man, who'd introduced himself as Agent Dixon. "Anthony was one of the most straight and narrow men I'd ever meant."

Karina learned that her middle name came from her paternal grandmother, Louise. Her mother had actually even gone to the Academy for a few years before dropping out.

"What made her do that?" she asked, frowning. Would her parents approve of her path in life? Could she continue in Starfleet if they wouldn't?

"I couldn't say. I'd say she did it for him. From everything he said, she'd loved it here. She just loved him more, I guess. And it's no kind of relationship when one of you is off-planet all the time. No way to start a family."

Karina nodded. Jim had told her on a regular basis how difficult it had been growing up with a mother off planet on a regular basis, and she knew exactly what it would have been like.

"What field was she in? Do you know?" she'd asked.

Dixon had smiled. "Xenolinguistics," he said. "Linda could speak, oh, I don't know, ten different languages. Most of them were alien dialects, actually. What about you, then?"

Karina hadn't been able to contain her grin. "Xenolinguistics."

"She's pretty damn good, too," Pike had put in from the other side of the room. Karina jumped. Both she and Dixon had forgotten he was even in the room.

Dixon turned back to her, looking as proud as if she'd been his own daughter. "You really are her clone, then." He held his hand out to shake. "I've got to run, but I'm glad to have been able to provide you with some answers to the past, Karina. Your parents would be proud."

Karina now looked at the picture, not wanting to take her eyes off of her parents. She had quite forgotten what they'd looked like. Her mother did, in fact, look like a woman who had remained soft in a hard world. Karina blinked back the tears that threatened.

Her reverie was broken by Camille in the next bed.

"So, that marathon that they're having in March…you think I should sign up for it?"

Karina looked over at her. "You will pull a muscle. You will be forced to stay in the clinic for at least a night. And this time Bones may actually strangle you in your sleep."

Camille gave her a knowing smile. "So I should do it, then?"

Karina shrugged and rolled over, smiling to herself. "Knock yourself out."

She needed a picture of Cam, too.