A/N: Honestly, I just want a happy McCoy. Depending on interest of this story I would like to write a long story. I hope you enjoy my story of my favorite character.
The medical bay was quiet. Too quiet for 0600. Leonard McCoy stood at the console, skimming over crew health logs, squinting against the sterile light overhead. He wasn't due to report for anything in particular today, but habits died hard—and if he wasn't working, he was thinking, and lately, thinking was the last thing he needed.
The doors hissed open.
"Damn, Bones. You even sleep?" Jim Kirk's voice was that familiar mix of amused and concerned.
Leonard didn't look up. "Sleep's for the sane."
Kirk stepped inside, wearing that half-cocked grin that made you feel like he either knew something you didn't or was about to make something up on the spot. "You're not on duty. And we dock in two hours. Thought you'd be packing or—God forbid—relaxing."
"I'm packed." Leonard tapped twice on the screen, shutting it down. "What's up?"
Kirk held up a PADD and waved it like it was an invitation to a wedding. "Just confirming you're still good for that distillery tour on the station. I put us down for four—me, you, Spock, and Uhura. Bourbon, Bones. Over 30 kinds from all over the galaxy.."
Leonard arched a brow. "You sure Spock's gonna be thrilled about that?"
"Don't underestimate Spock's curiosity. He may not drink, but he likes to judge the process. And Uhura's excited. It'll be good to get off the ship for a bit. You in?"
"Yeah, I'll be there."
Kirk nodded, satisfied. "Alright. Station room's already assigned. Check in, get settled, meet us at the South End Lounge at 1800."
With that, Kirk pivoted and left, boots thudding lightly against the floor. Leonard watched the doors close behind him, then exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders.
Starbase 116 was massive—more like a luxury resort wrapped around a trade hub than a place for starship repairs. It shimmered with ambient light and pulsed with the activity of travelers, engineers, and vendors hawking their wares to anyone with credits and curiosity.
Leonard found his room easily enough: spacious, clean, a hint of lavender in the air from the recycled atmosphere. He dropped his duffel on the bed and let himself sit for a moment. Just long enough to forget he wasn't on the Enterprise.
His communicator chirped.
He pulled it out and smiled faintly. "Hi, Ma."
Her voice was warm and familiar. "Just wanted to check in. Your signal's been bouncing all over the place this week."
"We've been between systems. You know how it is."
There was a pause. "You sound tired."
He rubbed his eyes. "I am."
Another pause. "You okay?"
Leonard let out a quiet breath. "I miss home. But there's not much to miss anymore. Since Jocelyn and I split, Atlanta doesn't feel the same."
"Oh, honey…"
"I'm fine, Mama. Really. I've got work, and I'm good at it. Just… sometimes I forget what it's like to have people to come home to."
There was a beat of silence that said more than words ever could. They caught up for a moment, filling him in on the latest gossip back home. He looked at the time and realized he needed to go. He told his mom he was meeting with people and would talk to her later.
"Go have fun tonight," she said finally. "You deserve that."
"Yeah. I'll try."
By the time Leonard arrived at the South End Lounge, he was five minutes early—and already regretting it. The place was sleek, dimly lit, with glass walls that looked out onto the void of space. Shelves lined with aged bottles of alien-made spirits curved around a central bar. It felt intimate, almost romantic.
Spock and Uhura were already seated at a table near the window, talking in low tones. Uhura noticed him first.
"Leonard!" She waved, smiling. "Come sit."
He hesitated, then made his way over. "Where's Jim?"
Spock answered without looking up. "The Captain was called to a command briefing regarding the incoming crew transfers. He will not be joining us."
Of course. Something always came up.
Leonard looked between them—Spock with his unreadable Vulcan calm, Uhura leaning into him with ease and comfort built from years of shared service and love—and felt a twinge in his chest.
"You two should stay," he said, forcing a polite smile. "Enjoy it. You don't need a third wheel hanging around."
"Nonsense," Uhura began, but he was already stepping back.
"Really. I'll find something else to do. You two enjoy the evening."
He turned before they could argue. The cool air of the station wrapped around him as he left the lounge. Bourbon could wait. Whatever was gnawing at him couldn't.
He walked for hours after that—past observation decks and quiet gardens, through loud arcades and still meditation rooms. Letting the ache stretch, letting his mind wander.
The truth was, he was tired. Tired of pretending he didn't mind being alone. Tired of throwing himself into his work because it was the only thing that hadn't left.
Somewhere deep inside, he knew he wanted more. He just didn't know what that looked like anymore.
Dinner seemed like the least lonely option. Leonard wandered until the quiet bustle of the station led him toward an open observation deck lined with scattered shops.
A woman stood near the intersection of two corridors, arms crossed, gaze flicking around like she was scanning the area for threats. Not in a panicked way—more like someone who was used to being in control but had just stepped into unfamiliar territory.
She was stunning.
Not in a delicate, fragile kind of way, but in a way that demanded attention. Strength coiled in the way she carried herself—shoulders squared, back straight, movements purposeful. Her smooth brown skin caught the light beneath the station's overhead glow, warm against the cool metal surroundings. Short dark brown hair framed a face that was all sharp edges and smooth curves, her expression unreadable.
Leonard wasn't the kind of man who lost his words over a pretty face. He had seen plenty of them. But something about her—something about the way she stood there, half-expecting trouble—pulled him in.
The southern gentleman in him wouldn't let it go. He stepped forward, hands slipping into his pockets as he kept his voice casual.
"Pardon me, ma'am," he said, smooth as whiskey. "You look like you're searching for something—or lost."
She turned, eyes cool and sharp, scanning him before answering. "I'm fine."
Didn't even blink.
"Wasn't saying you weren't," he replied casually. "Just figured if you were new here, I could help."
"I'm not new to figuring things out on my own," she said, tone clipped. "And I'm not lost."
Leonard raised his hands in surrender. "Didn't mean to assume." Leonard smirked. "Just an observation." Leonard rocked back on his heels. "It would've been a shame if someone like you got turned around out here. Space stations can be tricky, though. All these identical halls, these confusing signs—real easy to end up wanderin' in just in case you're lookin' for somethin', I've been told I make a decent guide."
She shot him a sideways look. "Are you always this persistent?"
"Only when I sense a challenge."
That earned him a small smirk, the barest hint of amusement flashing in her dark eyes. It was gone just as quickly.
"I'm looking for food," she admitted. "That's it."
Leonard smiled. "Well, now, that's a coincidence. So am I."
She exhaled, clearly debating whether or not to entertain this any further. She didn't seem the type to offer up details freely, and Leonard had known enough people like that to know one thing—he had time.
"Well, since you don't know where food is, I can at least point you in the right direction. Be cruel to let you starve out here." She huffed, clearly not thrilled—but not walking away either.
"Lead the way, then."
Leonard started down the corridor, and she fell into step beside him.
"Name's Leonard," he offered, watching her reaction carefully.
She gave him nothing.
"Not gonna return the courtesy?"
She tilted her head, that same unreadable expression settling back over her face. "Nope."
Leonard let out a chuckle, shaking his head. "Alright then, looks like I get to play detective."
She raised a brow. "Detective?"
"See, if you ain't gonna tell me who you are, then I gotta fill in the blanks myself," he said, crossing his arms. "And I got a good imagination."
She exhaled sharply, but he caught the way the corner of her mouth twitched. "This should be interesting."
Leonard rubbed his chin, pretending to scrutinize her. "I'm thinkin'… you're some kinda high-profile diplomat, here to negotiate peace between two rival factions. But you don't trust anyone, which is why you keep your name under wraps."
She scoffed. "Not even close."
"Alright, alright, let me try again," he said, smirking. "Bounty hunter? Nah, you're too well-dressed for that. Black ops? No, you'd probably have killed me by now for askin' too many questions."
She rolled her eyes but didn't interrupt.
"Oh," he said, snapping his fingers dramatically. "Lost princess. You snuck out of some royal court and now you're tryin' to blend in, but you're terrible at it. Which is why you look like you're about to fight somebody in the corridor."
That actually made her laugh. A real laugh.
Leonard grinned. "Now, see? That weren't so hard, was it?"
She shook her head, arms still crossed. "Fine. If you get to guess about me, then I get to guess about you."
He gestured for her to go on.
She studied him, eyes sharp. "Not a civilian," she stated first.
"Correct."
"But not a soldier, either. Not in the way most people would think."
Leonard hummed. "Interesting. Go on."
"You don't seem like you live on this Starbase," she continued. "You've got confidence, sure, but it's a different kind. You're comfortable in your own skin. You analyze things, not like threats, but like puzzles."
Leonard was impressed. "Sharp eye."
"You work with people. Probably deal with them at their worst, considering the way you look like you've been running on caffeine and spite."
That made Leonard chuckle. "Now that's just rude."
"You're obviously Starfleet," she said confidently.
Leonard sighed dramatically. "Damn, thought I was bein' subtle."
"Not even remotely."
He grinned. "Fair enough. But see, you don't know what I do in Starfleet. Could be anything. Engineer, helmsman, captain—"
"You're not a captain."
Leonard clutched his chest in mock offense. "Ouch."
"Captains have a certain…arrogance." She gave him a knowing look. "You don't."
Leonard exhaled through his nose. "I'm takin' that as a compliment."
She tilted her head, the corner of her lips twitching. "It was."
"If I were to guess, you must be in the medical or science division." She said confidently as her final answer.
"I work as a doctor," he said, giving her an approving nod. "I'll admit, you're good. But I ain't lettin' you off the hook that easy, Lost Girl."
Her eyes narrowed. "Lost Girl?"
"Well, since I still don't know your name, I gotta call you somethin'."
She gave him a long look, then shook her head. "That's ridiculous."
Leonard just grinned.
By the time they reached the food hall, he realized he had actually enjoyed himself—something that hadn't happened in a long time. She was different, unpredictable. He liked that.
He figured that was where they'd part ways, but before he could say his goodbyes, she nodded toward an open table.
"Well?" she said. "You're the one who said you were looking for food too. Sit."
Leonard raised a brow. "Oh, so now I'm invited?"
She smirked. "Can't exactly let you starve after you provided such excellent entertainment."
Leonard let out a low chuckle "Guess I'll take what I can get."