Twenty Three

Victoria's feelings had morphed from hurt to anger by the time she saw Dr. McCoy again.

Granted, the hurt had been intense. For a week, she had been unable to sleep, barely eaten, and had avoided all forms of contact with everyone on board the ship as much as possible. Every time she had passed Jim in the halls, or if he had tried to call her to see how she was, Leonard McCoy's words had sounded in her mind again: "Best for everyone if you stay out of the way."

McCoy had basically insinuated that she was putting everyone she knew, his friends, in danger for selfish reasons. And Victoria knew that, to some, what she was doing indeed seemed selfish. But, as she had thought at the time, she had earned this small amount of selfishness. From the day she had turned eighteen, when she had been forced to grow up much sooner than she had wanted to, she had made every unselfish decision possible. She had stayed home because her father had wanted her to, she had scarified a great job right out of college because Jim had needed her, and she had lived with her step-brother and his daughter because they clearly needed her too. And a few months ago, it had seemed as though she could finally cash in on the countless favours the people in her life owed her. She had Jim in her corner now, her father was finally cooperating, and Ben had been more than happy to say yes to whatever she asked. It had been years since she had felt this secure. Now, she could be selfish.

It didn't make her feel any better, though.

Sighing, Victoria pushed around the food in her plate absently. She had purposefully gone into the mess hall when she was sure nobody who knew her would be free. Her replicator was broken, and she was too wary of asking engineering if they could spare anyone to fix it. The last time she had spoken to Scotty, he had given her a very odd look, and Victoria was anxious to avoid him lest he begin to suspect that Natira Woodville was actually someone he had met before.

"Natira?" she jumped at the familiar voice, her fork clattering to the floor.

Trying to suppress a groan, Victoria offered the two people in front of her a wan smile. "Hi guys."

"Hi," said Uhura. Without invitation, the dark-skinned woman set her tray on Victoria's table and sat down, giving her companion a look that instructed him to do the same. Victoria was sure her face displayed her lack of enthusiasm as Spock picked up her fork from the ground, placing it neatly next to her tray, and sat down as well.

"You are off-shift, Lieutenant," said Spock in his usual flat voice.

"Aren't you just full of insight," mumbled Victoria to herself. She sneaked up a glance at Uhura, feeling guilty immediately: the communications officer had always been nice to her, and though Victoria liked her a great deal, she couldn't help the fact that she found her boyfriend slightly intolerable.

Fortunately, Uhura seemed amused by her reaction. "I thought you usually worked right now. We switched shifts because Spock wanted to run some tests in the lab and I have a few remiss signals that need archiving."

Victoria smirked. "You mean Spock got annoyed of Jim and you got tired of watching them both argue?"

Uhura laughed, and Spock raised one eyebrow in that curious way he had, which Victoria supposed was as expressive as he could get, even for a half-Vulcan. "I assure you, Lieutenant, I do indeed have to use the lab today."

"I believe you, Commander," said Victoria. She picked up a French fry and chewed thoughtfully, ignoring the fork by her side. Spock didn't react as she ate with her hands, but she knew it was annoying him a little. Good. "Did you manage to read my report on the J-zone crystals, by the way?"

"Your findings were adequate, yes."

"Glad I could help."

"Perhaps you would like to take on something more mentally stimulating next," said Spock, and Victoria froze in the act of picking up a second French fry. Opposite her, Uhura looked down at her tray and stared at her salad. "Lieutenant Homer informs me that Commander Scott has a concern on the effect the atmosphere of the last planet has had on our sub-space transmission capabilities, and with your background in geoscience –"

"I'm not looking for any new projects right now," said Victoria hastily. "I, uh, should probably focus on those crystals."

"The crystals only need basic testing and cataloguing, I am sure an Ensign could do those for you," said Spock.

"It does sound interesting," offered Uhura, and something in her tone made Victoria think this was a prepared attack. "You would be working with me for most of the time, since it's about communications. And I'm a lot more fun than Homer," she added, smiling.

Victoria smiled back, even as her fingers began to tap against the flat surface of the table anxiously. "I'm sure the Commander's report will offer many insights, but seniority-wise I think Lieutenant Homer should be offered the project first."

"Seniority does not matter where skills and experience can be utilised instead," said Spock. "I am confused by your reluctance, Lieutenant. After our last conversation, I assumed you would welcome the challenge."

Uhura gave him a sharp look, clearly unaware of this so-called conversation. Victoria noticed, and frowned internally. Maybe this wasn't a planned attack after all. She was clearly getting too paranoid.

"Things change," she said evenly. "I would prefer to fly under the radar now."

Spock opened his mouth to say something, but just then Uhura cut him off. "Stop hovering!" she called out, her eyes fixed on someone behind Victoria. "Come sit!"

Victoria turned back in confusion, and couldn't hide the tightening of her features when she saw who Uhura had beckoned over. It was McCoy.

!

Leonard McCoy hadn't been hovering, as Uhura had so eloquently put it, but now he had no choice but to acknowledge her summons.

Grumbling to himself, Leonard snatched up the coffee he had been waiting for and made his way to the only unoccupied table in the whole mess hall. He hadn't realized so many people would be off-shift at this hour, and he certainly hadn't expected to see her.

Ever since his conversation with Jim he had felt bad about the way he'd treated Victoria, of course, but he hadn't had the courage or the time to go and see her. For one thing, she was never around: Natira Woodville had hardly any friends, she had no hobbies that anyone knew of, and whoever did know her on the ship was unwilling to discuss her. Even M'Benga, whom Leonard had known for years, was oddly tight-lipped about her. He knew something was weird about her, but rather than question it – M'Benga was a dog with a bone, and Leonard knew it – he simply pretended like he had no idea who she was.

The other reason was simply that Leonard had no idea what to say to her. He had thought he was on good terms with Victoria Moore, hell he'd even flirted with the woman on more than one occasion. But he hadn't known her well enough, clearly, because even though she had seemed like a good person, that didn't mean what she was doing wasn't stupid.

And Leonard hadn't felt guilty about feeling that way until he'd spotted her in the mess hall, sitting with Spock and Uhura. She looked a mess: there were bags under her eyes, her shoulder was hunched up slightly as if she was in pain, and there was a general aura of misery around her. Leonard didn't want to admit that Jim might have been right, that his words had affected her deeply, but he'd only had to overhear her conversation briefly to realize that she was taking his advice, maybe a little too much to heart. Who turned down a potentially ground-breaking study in the Science department, offered by Spock himself, to analyse some crystals that even he knew weren't all that interesting?

"Morning," he said gruffly, settling down into the chair next to Uhura. The communications officer smiled at him, Spock nodded, and Victoria merely looked up once, tilted her head slightly, and returned to playing with her food. He cleared his throat. "Aren't you two supposed to be on the bridge?"

Uhura explained that they'd both decided to switch with the Beta shift so they could catch up on some work, and from the corner of his eye Leonard saw Spock turn to Victoria and speak quietly, his expression never betraying his words. But Victoria's face was expressive, almost too expressive, and she couldn't control how her eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly in clear surprise as the half-Vulcan kept talking.

And then suddenly she was smiling, and Leonard stopped listening to Uhura completely. He remembered how struck he'd been by Victoria the first time he'd seen her, and how he'd thanked his lucky stars he was too old and too wary to openly gawk at a woman. Clearly, space had messed with his head, because he now found himself staring at her in slight surprise, as she beamed at Spock, her eyes dancing. Even though it looked off – the hair, the eyes, the glasses – he had to admit, there were few sights that were better than Victoria More when she was happy.

Uhura cleared her throat pointedly, and McCoy immediately turned away from Victoria. To his surprise, Uhura was giving him a knowing look. He scowled. "What?"

"Who are you trying to kid here, Leonard?" she asked. Her voice was quiet enough that Victoria wouldn't hear.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"You feel guilty."

McCoy snorted. "What for?"

"I know you said something to her after the mission in sickbay, and I also know you're too much of a nice guy to not feel bad about it now. She's not Jim, Leonard," Uhura added, when McCoy turned away dismissively. "She doesn't know you only get pissedoff at people you care about. She probably thinks you hate her and trust me, that woman doesn't deserve it."

"You don't even know her," said Leonard pointedly.

"I know her more than you do," said Uhura, raising her eyebrows. "I talk to her, I include her with my friends. I talk to Jim about her too, and he's so grateful to her it makes me think she can't be that bad a person, not really, if he's ready to risk everything for her."

"Jim'd risk anythin' for anyone."

"You know that's not true," Uhura rolled her eyes. "It's only for people he cares about. He cares about us, his crew. We're his family, you know that. But Tori's been his family for longer than any of us. You owe him to make things right with her, at least so she doesn't have to tiptoe around you because she thinks you hate her."

"I don't hate her," muttered Leonard, more to himself than to Uhura. He wasn't sure about his feelings for Victoria More, not yet, but at least that much was true.

"Then play nice," said Uhura. Leonard threw her a wary look, but she was already standing and picking up her empty tray. "Spock, shall we?" she asked, addressing the half-Vulcan in a voice that left no room for arguments.

Spock nodded, said his goodbyes to both Victoria and Leonard, and followed Uhura out of the mess hall. Leonard tried to find it in himself to scowl at their retreating backs, but he couldn't do it. He merely sighed tiredly.

Across from him, Victoria had put her fork down and was fiddling with her sleeve, locks of dark hair falling out of her once-neat bun. She was tired and slightly uncomfortable, and very, very anxious to leave. She didn't want to be rude, which was ridiculous considering the way Dr. McCoy had talked to her last time, but she wasn't an animal, or a child with no sense of good behaviour. She could be polite.

"Where you headin' now?" asked McCoy suddenly. Victoria almost jumped when he spoke. Even while she'd debated with herself, she hadn't thought that he'd address her first.

It was annoying that his words made her want to smile. She had missed that damn accent. "Nowhere in particular," she answered calmly, looking up and fixing her eyes onto a point slightly above his ear. "I'm off-shift now."

"Ah," McCoy nodded. Victoria waited for a few seconds, eyes still on his ear. When he didn't speak again, she closed her eyes, let out a deep breath and stood up. She wasn't very hungry anymore.

"I'll see you later," she said, but she knew she wouldn't. Her leaving would probably help him finish his meal, if anything.

To her surprise, McCoy stood up as well. "If you ain't got anywhere to be, I'd like to walk with you," he said. His voice was even, if slightly stiff.

Unable to think of a single reason why she should say no that wouldn't lead to a scene, Victoria nodded and dumped her tray, leading the way out of the mess hall. She hadn't been planning to go anywhere in particular. The rec room was normally empty at this time, and if she was feeling particularly suffocated in her bedroom she might have gone there to read a book, or begged Hikaru to spar with her if he was free. However, McCoy seemed to have a destination in mind. Without even touching her, he steered her in the general direction of the brig, which made her wonder where exactly they were going. When he punched in the access code to one of the doors in the hallway, though, she finally realized where they were.

The viewscreens on the Enterprise were particularly high-resolution, befitting the Federation flagship. Victoria had never really paid them much attention before – they were useful if you worked on the bridge, and specially comforting if you were looking forward to landing on a specific planet. But for her, they had never held much charm.

The view really was spectacular, though. She folded her arms behind her back, drinking in the vast cosmos, as if the only thing separating her from it was indeed a thin sheet of glass. It was breath-taking.

"Funnily enough, aviophobia doesn't act up near the viewscreens," commented McCoy. Victoria had almost forgotten he was there.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "You have aviophobia?"

He scowled, for a moment looking very much like the man she had almost befriended back on Earth. "You tellin' me Jim's never mentioned it?"

"I'd never let you forget it if he had," she said teasingly. McCoy's eyes shot to hers, and they were bright with amusement. Victoria smiled, and then remembered the last time they had spoken. Her smile fell, and she bit her lip before turning back to the view. "It's very pretty," she said, knowing that she needed to fill up the silence. "Did you know that there are almost –"

"I owe you an apology, darlin'," his voice cut off her random comment, and Victoria immediately turned towards him. His face was blank as he leaned against one of the pillars to the side, a few feet away from her. Nothing in his posture said he was apologetic, but his eyes were sincere.

Victoria took a deep breath. "You didn't say anything wrong, Dr. McCoy," she said quietly. "I did take advantage of you as CMO, and if something had happened to me or because of me you would have felt responsible. I should be apologising for putting you in that position."

She didn't know what it was that she had said, but McCoy was grimacing at her words. "Don't do that," he shook her head. "Christ, Victoria, even if what I said was true, I was way outta line, and you know it. I'm surprised you didn't hit me."

"That wouldn't have accomplished anything," said Victoria. She had to turn away. He had used her first name. Why did that make her want to smile again? "You were angry, and you had every right to be."

"I was angry," admitted McCoy. "I ain't anymore. My bark's worse than my bite, I've been told," he offered her a wan smile, and she couldn't help but return it hesitantly. "I shouldn't have talked to you like that. Just admit it," he said warningly, when she opened her mouth to argue. "Circumstances don't matter. I should've know better."

"Probably," admitted Victoria. "But I do understand why you were angry."

"That's very kind of you," he sounded faintly amused now. "D'you always make up excuses to defend people who've been assholes to you, or am I a special case?"

The tension was broken. Victoria rolled her eyes. "I'm not defending you, I'm telling you that I understand why you acted like a complete dickhead."

"Ouch," he didn't sound hurt at all. He almost sounded pleased. "Does that mean you accept my apology?"

"If you accept mine."

"You got nothin' to be sorry for, darlin'."

"Be that as it made, it's a two-way street," she inclined her head slightly. "Truce?"

McCoy pushed himself off the pillar, closing the distance between them in a few quick strides. He was standing closer than strictly necessary, but Victoria didn't back away. In her work-wear high heels, she was still a few inches shorter than him, but not enough to feel intimidated. He smirked. "Truce," he agreed, holding out his hand. Victoria accepted it, and almost rolled her eyes when McCoy pressed a kiss to her knuckles instead of shaking her hand.

Almost.

She ended up giggling instead.

"You're pretty charming when you want to be, Dr. McCoy," she commented. She hoped he couldn't see the blush on her cheeks.

McCoy shrugged. "Don't know what you're talkin' about, darlin'."

"Sure you don't."

"All I know is, space is a lot more bearable with people you trust," he wasn't teasing her anymore. He was looking at her pointedly. "What do you think?"

Victoria sighed. "I agree," she said, her tone clearly showing how unwilling she was to discuss the reason for their conflict in the first place. "But trust is… it's a touchy subject with me. And this isn't just about that."

"I figured," something in his own tone told her that he knew more about her than he was letting on. She glanced at him, but he was looking out the viewscreen. "I have a suggestion."

"Go on?"

"I need to know what's goin' on, there's no gettin' around it," he said, and once again Victoria appreciated his matter-of-fact way of speaking. "But I know you won't tell me just like that. We barely know each other, you don't trust me, and I may have been harsh about it before, but the fact is I don't trust you either."

Victoria grimaced. "Is there going to be a happy end to this conversation?"

"Hopefully," McCoy almost smiled. "How 'bout we try out this crazy thing called bein' friends?"

Victoria blinked. "You want to be friends?"

"Pretty much."

"With me?"

"That's the idea."

"Even though you know you could just order me to tell you everything?" she demanded. "You're my commanding officer, I'd have to tell you or I could be locked up for insubordination. Or you could make Jim tell you, I know he would if you asked him right. Or you could threaten to rat me out. I mean, I have some pretty powerful friends but if you went public with whatever little you know about me it could majorly hurt my career, even land me in some trouble. Or even –"

"Hey," he interrupted her rant suddenly, his face a cross between amused and exasperated. "I'm not gonna do any of that stuff. I'm a grouch, Victoria, and I'm not very nice to people, but I'm not that much of an asshole. And I'd rather you told me what's really goin' on without any coercion involved, honest."

Victoria was touched. These weren't the actions of a man who simply felt bad for yelling at her. He was truly sorry, and he genuinely wanted to help her. She wondered how long it had taken Leonard McCoy to figure out how hopelessly lonely she was here, on a starship surrounded by people she couldn't connect with.

"So?" he interrupted her musings, and Victoria was only a little amused to see that he actually looked nervous. "What d'you think?"

She continued to look at him, pretending to consider his question. But there was nothing to consider, not really. She was tired of always being too careful, too selfless, too cold. "I think being friends with you will be easier than either of us think, Dr. McCoy," she said finally.

McCoy grinned. "If you quit callin' me Dr. McCoy, we can make a good start."

That made her smile. "I'm sorry. What do your friends call you, then?"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't have many friends. Jim calls me Bones."

Victoria wrinkled her nose. "No offense, but I'll stick with Leonard until I can think of something better. Bones is just morbid, and it makes you sound like you have one foot in the grave."

"Being friends with Jim'll do that to you."

"I raised that kid and I'm still standing."

"You're somethin' else, darlin'."