Five

McCoy shut the door behind himself quietly, hoping that the alcohol would keep Jim knocked out despite the noise. Clutching his phone in one hand and running a hand through his hair with the other, he shuffled out of the small hallway towards the living-room. It was dark, but he was unwilling to be overheard. He made for the French doors, exiting onto the patio and finally taking the phone-call off mute.

"What is it, Pam?" his voice was gruff, from lack of sleep and the fact that it was his ex-wife he was talking to. There was no love lost between them.

Clearly, Pamela felt the same way. "Don't think this is a social call," she replied coldly.

"Wouldn't dream of it," said McCoy dryly. "What do you need?"

"Your checks aren't coming in."

He resisted the urge to swear. "Did you call the lawyer?"

"I would, if I knew which one to call."

"The same one as before, Pam," he was trying to be patient. "If they're not comin' in, it's his fault. I'm getting' paid enough, you know that."

"Yeah, and if I had known you were going to end up a CMO on a starship, Leonard, I would have asked for more."

McCoy snorted. "Don't act like you didn't take all I had before, Pam."

She scoffed. "As if you even had that much."

"Yeah, well, I made up for it when I said I'd foot the bill for Joanna's new school, didn't I?"

"If you think that's all it takes to raise a child you're even more –"

"We're not doing this right now, Pam," interrupted McCoy. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Jesus, woman, its four in the morning. You couldn't call at a decent time?"

"Why, you got someone you want to get back to?"

McCoy really hoped he was imagining the jealousy in her voice. "For Christ's sake, Pam –"

"Not that I care," she sniffed dismissively.

"Don't ask stupid questions then!" snapped McCoy. "I'll call the lawyer myself tomorrow. Is there anything else?"

"No."

"Great." He hung up without waiting for a response.

McCoy took a deep breath and kept his gaze fixed on the horizon, willing himself to calm down. There had never been any point in getting upset or annoyed about what Pamela said, and he had stopped trying to be nice to her a long time ago. Civil was the most anyone could expect from him on a good day, though it had been a while since she had called him directly. Usually, she preferred to let her lawyer do most of the talking. She must have been desperate to pick up the phone herself. The thought made McCoy snort. Considering the kind of money he was sending her every month, he doubted she was that desperate. Unwilling to waste time thinking about his ex-wife, he focused on his surroundings.

Sulu's house was in the fancier part of the locality of the base, where the odd admiral or high-profile scientist resided. Jim had told him it was Victoria's doing – Ben hadn't been able to afford anything more than a nicer-than-normal apartment when he had been sent to Yorktown, but she had forked out cash for the house with a garden, and the two hovercars parked outside. No wonder Ben hadn't argued when she had insisted they all stay the night, though he suspected the offer was mostly because the majority of them were too drunk to drive and there was just one car.

The garden was hers too; he was sure he had spotted some of those colour-changing flowers that Spock had been so fascinated by near the front, and as far as he could tell she did most of the housework as well. The dynamic was odd, to say the least, but it wasn't something McCoy couldn't understand. Family was family, and not every woman was Pamela.

"Hey," if he had thought he sounded sleepy, this new voice definitely gave him a run for his money. He turned around to see Victoria leaning against the open door, her dark red hair in a messy braid as she squinted at him through half-closed lids. "What on earth are you doing awake?"

"Nothing good," he replied. His tone was acerbic, but it made her smile. As she yawned and rubbed her eyes tiredly, McCoy allowed himself the rare pleasure of looking her over, once he was sure she wouldn't notice.

How the hell could she make sleep deprivation look so good? She was still in her pyjamas but she looked as though she belonged on a magazine cover; her robe was short, and though it was pulled tightly around her body it didn't hide those legs that he'd only caught a glimpse of at Sulu's wedding. Jim had been right, they did go on forever. And her hair made him want to run his fingers through it to see if it was really as silky as it looked. When had his brain been replaced with a sixteen year old's anyway? Forcing himself to stop gawking at her, McCoy pretended he hadn't been staring and raised his eyebrows. "What about you, darlin'? Sun isn't even out yet."

"I always wake up at this time," she stifled a yawn again and beckoned to him to follow her inside, which he did without thinking. "Ben's shift starts at six and Demora wakes up at seven," they entered the kitchen, where he was surprised to see an old-fashioned coffee-maker busy at work. Victoria saw him glance at it curiously and grinned. "I hope you're not judging me."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said honestly. She quirked up an eyebrow. "I hate replicator coffee," he explained.

Victoria looked triumphant. "That's what I said to Ben! But he says I'm just wasting time with this old thing."

"There's nothin' like it."

Victoria smiled and lifted herself up onto the island, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Glad you approve. I'd offer you some, but you're not going to get any sleep after this if you indulge."

"Don't think I'll get much sleep with Jim snoring that loudly anyway," McCoy sat down on the seat next to her, acutely aware of her bare legs just inches from his shoulder. Fortunately, Victoria turned slightly so she was facing him, managing to angle her lower body away in the process. McCoy sighed internally with relief. Or maybe disappointment. He still wasn't sure. He changed the subject. "Your hand okay?"

"Tender," she winced as she opened a cupboard with her uninjured hand. "But I'll be okay," Victoria grabbed two mugs, and before he knew it she had slid a mug over to him, the pleasant aroma of fresh coffee filling up the kitchen when she took the lid off the pot. "There's sugar next to you, if you want some."

McCoy shook his head, carefully sipping the scalding liquid and smiling at the taste. His mother brewed coffee from scratch, but he hadn't had any in a long time and this was the next best thing. Victoria noticed his look and laughed softly, putting her own mug to the side to cool down. Again, seemingly out of nowhere, she pushed something else towards him. It was a large plate, piled high with what looked like chocolate brownies.

"You made these?" asked McCoy in surprise.

Victoria picked up a bite-sized square and popped it into her mouth, shrugging. "I'm a domestic goddess."

McCoy followed suit, forcing himself to keep a straight face even though he wanted to moan at how amazing the taste was. He settled for another compliment instead. "After the dinner you put together last night, darlin', I don't doubt it."

Victoria smiled again. "Who do you think is responsible for Jim's appetite? Uncle Rupert sure as hell didn't make him roast chicken and beef stew every week."

McCoy raised his mug in acknowledgement. "Should've known."

They sat in silence for a moment, but Victoria's fingers tapping against the ceramic mug told him she had something to say.

"Your good mood from last night doesn't seem to have lasted," she said finally. McCoy shrugged, unwilling to go into specifics. He was aware that he was being even more silent than usual, but Pam had annoyed him and he was unwilling to let out any of his frustrations on Victoria. Oblivious to his inner struggle, Victoria picked up another brownie, taking her time to chew it before raising her eyebrows at him. "Let me guess. Bad night?"

McCoy shrugged. "It was fine. Jim snores."

"But you were roommates in the Academy for a while, so clearly that isn't something new," Victoria dismissed his words with a wave of her free hand. McCoy frowned. Was she trying to analyse him? "Hmm… did Scotty try to throw something at you again?"

"Thank lord, no," muttered McCoy. "Damn engineer, got the arm of a baseball player."

Victoria smiled. "Sore about losing at poker?"

He snorted at that. "Only once, darlin'."

"Once is all it takes," she winked. Why was he constantly imagining things that weren't there? McCoy was sure he had made-up the flirtatious tone of her voice.

"You lost three times," he pointed out.

"And you let me keep my money, like a good old-fashioned southern gentleman straight out of a storybook," mused Victoria. Her words didn't sound mocking at all, which made McCoy smirk because now he was sure he hadn't imagined the tone, nor the way she had blushed when he had insisted last night that he wouldn't take a penny from her.

"Your smile is enough of a reward, darlin'," he drawled, inching just a little bit closer to her.

To his surprise, Victoria snorted. But her cheeks were now pink. "Smooth. Jim teach you that one?"

McCoy raised his eyebrows. "He's tried it on you?"

"Who do you think taught him?"

Of course she had. McCoy grinned. "I really should'a known that one."

"Ah, and we get a smile," Victoria looked smug. "So, it really wasn't poker?"

He shook his head. "I ain't a sore loser."

Victoria hummed. "Well, secret phone calls at four in the morning do have a tendency to ruin a person's mood, I suppose."

McCoy winced, and Victoria smiled triumphantly, but something in her tone made McCoy want to clarify who he had been talking to. "Especially when they're from your ex-wife," he said nonchalantly.

Victoria grimaced, immediately looking chagrined. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"You're not," McCoy waved away her concern. "There isn't much to pry into. She left me years ago, and I'm glad she did. But she wants things done her way, and that ain't always possible."

Victoria looked torn, but he smiled at her and she ventured to ask, "So, you don't get along, then?"

"The split wasn't amicable, though it was my fault as much as hers, I've never denied that," shrugged McCoy. "We were young and we thought we knew what love was. I don't regret it though, Joanna's worth all the heartache I went through."

Victoria smiled. "She's a good kid."

"The best," McCoy smiled fondly, even as he felt his chest constrict. "Pam doesn't let me see her as much as either of us would like. She got full custody by claiming I was an unfit parent – and at the thought of losing 'em both, I guess I did become one."

"You're human," Victoria shrugged, and the way she seemed able to dismiss his failings warmed his heart, even though he knew she was being kinder than he deserved. "We all make mistakes. The wonderful part about being human is the ability to change."

"I don't think Pam believes in words like "wonderful" and "change"."

Victoria wrinkled her nose in distaste. "She doesn't sound like I'd get along with her, then. I'm glad Joanna took after you."

McCoy laughed. "You'd be the first to say that."

"Well, then, they clearly don't know you very well."

"And you do?" he asked in amusement.

"You don't need to know much about a man beyond his taste in books, how he takes his coffee, and whether or not he thinks Jim Kirk is annoying," Victoria told him, her face serious. But her eyes were twinkling. "I think we've got the basics covered, don't you?"

"My taste in books?" McCoy frowned, thinking back over their conversations. "When did we talk about books?"

"We didn't. When I first met her, Joanna mentioned that you had medical texts lying about your house," Victoria smiled, looking slightly embarrassed. "Have you seen our coffee table?"

He recalled the exobiology books that Joanna had been given by Victoria all those years ago, and the cluttered coffee table he had sat by last night. It had, indeed, been piled high with advanced texts that had captured Spock's interest immediately. McCoy smiled. "You've got a point there."

"I make it a habit to have a point," Victoria grinned back, and nudged the plate towards him again. "Eat up, doctor. We need you at full strength if you're going to survive Jim Kirk's captaincy."

McCoy rolled his eyes, but didn't protest and helped himself to another brownie. "He's gonna get us killed one day."

"I believe you," Victoria hopped off the counter and began to bustle about the kitchen, pulling containers from the fridge and cupboard. She was making lunch, McCoy realized, and he was sure it wasn't all for her; considering the two glass bottles of hooch she'd taken out, he sincerely hoped it wasn't. "I love him, I really do," she continued, as if cooking at four thirty in the morning was the most normal thing in the world. "He's the first kid I was ever really attached to, though that really doesn't say a lot about me," she turned to look at him over her shoulder, wrinkling her nose in distaste. McCoy was beginning to recognize that expression. "My dad always said he would be trouble when he grew up."

"Was he a bad kid?"

Victoria shook her head. "He really wasn't, despite what people say. Despite what he says," she rolled her eyes. "He was just rebellious. The best way to make him clean his room was to tell him it's something he shouldn't do, you know? Just a typical kid. I knew how to handle him," she turned back to grab the salt-shaker from next to McCoy and grinned. "And from what he's told me, you know how to handle him too."

"I treat him like how I'd treat Joanna," said McCoy, smiling wryly. "It usually works out pretty well."

"I hope you wouldn't sedate your daughter on a regular basis though."

"Like to think I wouldn't. And what exactly are you doin'?" he asked curiously. She hadn't paused since she'd handed him his coffee.

"Making lunch for Ben and Demora," Victoria shrugged and began to butter a slice of bread.

"Demora's a little young to be drinking."

"Wha – oh!" Victoria laughed and put down the sandwich, instead indicating the bottles. "You mean these?"

"That alcohol ain't for her, is it?"

"This isn't just any old alcohol, doctor," said Victoria, shaking her head smilingly. "This is the king of alcohol. And it isn't for Demora, it's for your dare-devil of a captain."

McCoy looked sceptical. "What'd he ask you to get him?"

Victoria laughed again and unscrewed the cap off one of the bottles, beckoning McCoy over and offering it to him. "Not too much," she warned, when he accepted. "It's strong."

McCoy rolled his eyes and took a swig, the burn immediately making his eyes water, but he managed to resist the urge to cough. He handed the bottle back to her immediately, though, only a little surprised when she giggled at his expression and took a much larger sip herself, shuddering at the taste. He shook his head. "Strong is an understatement."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she put the cap back on and set it down on the table. "I made it myself. It's my dad's recipe, and it's also the first thing Jim got drunk off," she rolled her eyes. "Thank God I wasn't his babysitter then."

"You made it?"

"Yup," Victoria shrugged, and then smirked wickedly as she unscrewed the cap again, adding a generous splash to her coffee. She laughed at McCoy's expression. "Don't tell me you've never had a drink before the sun's come up, doctor," she teased. "Living with Jim Kirk ought to have made you an alcoholic by now."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "If I got drunk, who'd keep him alive?" despite Victoria's laugh and his own gruff tone, he didn't object when she added some to his mug of coffee too.

The talked on and off after that, but mostly sat in silence, until the fake sunrise signalled the beginning of everyone else's working-day. Ben was the first one to rush in, not even looking surprised to see his sister awake and holding out a to-go cup of coffee – sans the alcohol – and Tupperware filled with food for him. He kissed her cheek, accepted the two containers, and ran out the door after throwing out a hurried goodbye to McCoy. Without missing a beat, Victoria pulled out milk, cereal, a bowl and cutlery from various places around the kitchen, setting them down on the table just as Demora rushed in, her hair strewn about her shoulders. She sat down wordlessly, diligently eating breakfast as Victoria braided her hair, still chatting to McCoy about something or the other that he really wasn't paying attention to – the morning routine had him utterly bemused. As soon as Demora's bowl was empty, a bright pink backpack was plonked down onto her lap, and Victoria set down a matching water-bottle, another plastic container and a single banana on the table, that Demora carefully packed into her bag. Thirty seconds later, there was the sound of a hovercar pulling up, and Victoria kissed the little girl's forehead as she ran out to catch the bus to school.

"Now I see why you need hooch in the morning," said McCoy finally. Victoria laughed.