Bones was lonely. He'd been in space far too long and it felt like a lifetime since he'd last experienced some form of human contact. Even though he knew he was not alone in his predicament, it sure felt like it. He'd watch the fleeting relationships of those around him, grow and fade, as it seemed the only consistency on board was his isolation.
The dead time in space, floating, waiting to find something, was the worst for Bones; when the crew would only contact him with their pointless and pathetic aliments.
One such morning, a nervous Russian teenager walked into Bone's surgery.
"Dr McCoy, Sir, may we talk briefly?" Chekov stuttered, hovering at his doorway.
"Of course," Bones said plainly. However, he raised an eyebrow when Chekov made a point of closing the door completely behind him. "Where is the problem?"
"Sir," Chekov glided inside and sat himself in front of Bones. "It is not something wrong with me which I would like to discuss."
"Oh?"
"I have…" Chekov looked down and away from Bones, wringing his hands in discomfort. "I have been watching you and you seem upset… Alone…"
Bones couldn't decide what to feel, insulted or happy someone had noticed him. He went with a bit of both.
"What makes you think that, Chekov? And just who the hell are you to tell me how I am feeling?" He said, far louder and snappier than he'd of liked.
"I am sorry if I have caused you offence, Sir, that was not my intention at all," Suddenly Chekov turned back to Bones and looked straight at him with his wide, earnest eyes. "I am merely concerned about you. You are a good man."
Bones stood up. "I am fine, now if that is all, Chekov…"
"I will take my leave only when I am satisfied you are okay," Chekov replied, remaining in his seat.
Bones sighed. He just wasn't bothered with this feelings shit, and if this talk was coming from anyone, he was surprised it would be from someone so young, rather than Kirk.
"What is it to you anyway?" Bones said, sitting once more. "We have barely said two words to each other the whole times we've been on this ship!"
Chekov sat silently and once again squirmed in discomfort, looking away from Bones.
"Did someone ask you to come here? Kirk?" Bones demanded.
"No! Never," He exclaimed. "I am acting alone, please, it is difficult…"
"Why are you so nervous?" Snapped Bones. "And what is so difficult?"
"I would… I would like very much to be the one who could stop you from being so lonely…" Chekov stammered. "I don't just want to watch you anymore."
"Wait!" Shouted Bones. "What?"
Chekov flew out of his seat, his face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and emotion, and ran straight for the door. In little more than a flash of yellow, Bones was alone in his surgery once more, left pondering the events that had just taken place.
Was that a confession? He pondered. A romantic one? From a teenage boy?
I hope you liked the start of my story, please review so I know someone wants me to carry on xxx