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sprite-writes · 4 months

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failed romantics

Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Reader (original female character)

Summary: Secrets can’t be kept forever, and what better time to reveal them than the Enterprise night shift.

Word Count: 5,902

A/N: yay another chapter!! I have been so excited to write this one since I started this series, I hope you all like it. As always very special thanks to @lightning-writes without them these chapters would literally never get finished LOL immediately after finishing this plz go check out their bucky series; good heart (faulty machine of a man) it kills me in the best way. anyways, thank you for reading plz like + comment if you enjoyed :)

Leonard can only barely make out Kirk’s face under the dim bulb, but he is pissed enough that Jim’s mug is the last thing he wants to see. The music is loud, so goddamn loud , loud enough that the whiskey did nothing for his headache.

“This is not what I had in mind when you said you knew a place,” he yells over the music, staring down the side of Kirk's face.

“What?” the captain calls back, still oblivious to Leonard's scowl. Kirk is absent, completely distracted by the crowd, more specifically the women . His gaze filters from person to person as they pass by the table, a dumb smile on his face the entire time. If steam could come out of Leonard’s ears, it would.

“I said this isn't what I had in mind for tonight.” He reaches across the table and firmly flicks his friend’s temple.

“Hey! What's your problem?” Kirk whines. Leonard is satisfied to have gotten his attention—finally.

“You said you knew a nice place– you said it was a bar!”

“Yeah and? This is both of those things!”

“This is a goddamned petri dish!”

It is. Leonard has refused to even allow his bare skin to touch the tabletop, weary of the unknown sticky substances covering it. There are so many bodies— human and otherwise— packed into the space, it's suffocating, and certainly a fire hazard. It's gross, downright unsanitary, and fucking loud.

“You’re dramatic, Bones, it's nice enough. Loosen up! Maybe try to meet somebody. We’re only in Yorktown for a day, y’know?”

Tipsy Kirk is a fucking idiot.

Leonard recoils at the idea. The captain has gained this…habit lately. This advice-giving habit where he tells Leonard to relax, to get out there, to get laid, and every time it passes through Kirk's lips, Leonard becomes nauseous. He abhors this subject, he really does. The only thing he hates talking about more than his dating life is why he doesn’t have one. Sure, he hasn't had much of one since the divorce anyway, but whatever he did have quickly reduced to nothing after meeting Sunshine. He feels so childish even mulling his thoughts over, and how it feels pointless to consider any other woman interesting since he has already met Sunshine, who is the most interesting. Interesting and pretty. Interesting and pretty and kind. He shakes his head before he starts down his mental list (again). Somedays, it feels like his feelings will swallow him whole. It has been so long since he felt it, the wanting . Wanting to talk to her all the time, or hold her hand, or just be around her. It all makes him feel so juvenile, like he’s a lovesick teenager. She makes him feel like a lovesick teenager. It is the single most frustrating thing he’d ever experienced.

“I don't wanna associate with anyone who willingly steps foot inside this shithole,” he snaps, “C’mon man, let's go.” Kirk protests, of course, even more so as Leonard grabs him by the ear and pulls him up from the chair. He tells himself he’s doing Kirk a favor, that the last thing he needs is a hookup— that he’s certainly not taking out his frustrations on his friend.

The pair weave through the bodies, with Kirk stumbling after his friend and out the door. The cool breeze hits them like a breath of fresh air, and Leonard takes it in. Kirk, on the other hand, furiously rubs his reddened ear.

“What the hell was that for? Are you out to get me tonight?”

Leonard feels a quick pang of sympathy, regretting lashing out.

“Look, I’m sorry, but that place had me sweating like a damn sinner in church, there’s other bars, and it's getting late anyways–”

Kirk would usually push it, and Leonard could tell he wants to, which makes him all the more thankful he doesn’t.

“Fine, fine, whatever but we are drinking when we get back to the ship,” he settles, leading the way home.

Yorktown is cold and downright industrial. Leonard hates it. He would usually be thankful for a pit stop if it means he can feel non-artificial gravity, but, between the dirty club and Kirk’s antagonizing, he’s ready to be spacebound again. Both the Enterprise and the USS Endeavor are in Yorktown for the night, in the process of a personnel transfer. The streets are crawling with Starfleet members.

They walk in silence for most of the way, observing the larger-than-life city and the star crafts buzzing overhead. Leonard would be lying if he said he doesn’t feel a bit empty. Perhaps the low-lit, music-blaring monstrosity would have felt more tolerable if a certain lieutenant was with him and not stuck with the enterprise night crew.

“You know, I wouldn’t have even known that place existed if it wasn’t for Sunny,” Kirk laughs. Leonard scrunches his nose.

“She recommended that barnyard?” he scoffs.

“Oh god no, she told me to stay away from it. Said it was the grimiest place on this side of the universe. I just thought it sounded like a good time, y’know?”

Leonard stares, really stares, and wonders why he keeps expecting better of Kirk.

“You’re an idiot, and an ass. The woman gives you stellar advice, and you ignore it, and stick her with the skeleton crew.”

Kirk stops so abruptly, that Leonard stumbles over him.

“ I didn’t put her on the skeleton crew, she requested to be. You think I would make her work more than she already does? I’m not a tyrant, Bones.”

What?

“What?” Leonard says out loud. “Why would she ask to be holed up on the enterprise all leave?”

“I mean, I would too if the alternative was running into my ex and all his coworkers.”

Kirk laughs, Leonard’s head spins.

“Her ex?”

“Yeah her— she didn’t tell you any of this?”

“She said she wanted Jameson to oversee the transfer, give him more experience or something, so you put her on his night shift.”

“No? She wanted Jameson to do it because she used to be engaged to the Endeavors head of security.”

Leonard blinks. And blinks again.

“Dude, I don’t even know how to change the schedule,” Kirk adds.

Suddenly, despite talking to her everyday for close to a year, she feels unfamiliar. Engaged? He can hardly imagine it, nor does he want to. Pictures of Sunshine flash through his mind, and he clenches his fist.

“Didn’t know she had been engaged,” he feigns a casual tone.

Kirk furrows his brows.

“ You didn’t know? You of all people?” Leonard shrugs, as his stomach forms a knot. “She tells you everything, and she’s never mentioned Ryder?”

“Christ, his name is Ryder ?”

“I know! Douchebag name, right?”

He doesn’t respond for a beat, which turns into several beats. The gears in his head turn and turn. Engaged . He doesn’t understand why the idea eats at him. He himself had been married for years. So what if she was engaged? There is no reason for him to be upset that his friend—a coworker–had an ex.

He feels nauseous.

Kirk clears his throat, derailing Leonard's train of thought.

“You’re right, it’s late, we should head back,” he says, offering a reassuring smile. Leonard follows him, hands in his pockets.

“Do y’know what happened?” he asks finally. Kirk casts him a sideways glance.

“What, between them? Not a clue,” Kirk says with sincerity enough for Leonard to believe it. “She wasn’t really keen on discussing it.” He pauses and looks at the ground as they walk. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it though, Bones, I think everyone sees she’s only really got eyes for one person these days.”

“Don't start, Jim,” Leonard warns hotly, clenching his jaw.

“Start what? I’m not starting anything. I’m just laying out the facts.” Jim hiccups. “She adores you, man, like adores -”

“Sunshine ‘adores’ everyone she meets. We’re friends—good friends, but that's all.” His patience shrinks as his annoyance grows.

Jim laughs mirthlessly.

“No, Sunshine and I are good friends. Whatever you two are is something else entirely-”

“Anyone ever tell you you don't know when to shut up?” His tone is as cold as the night air, and Jim shuts up.

Leonard wishes Kirk would drop the subject, trip over a rock, or whatever it took to never have this conversation again. Really—what he truly wants is for everyone to stop dangling this hope in front of his face like a carrot. He’s not an idiot, he knows he spends more time with the lieutenant than his colleagues, hears her laugh more often, and knows her habits better.

He knows what it looks like. He also knows that he's a bitter emotionally closed-off divorcee—

He tells Jim that Sunshine is his friend because she is—and he denies wanting anything more because It's stupid to want things out of his reach.

Frustration heats his cheeks and begins to bloom into a headache. He knows Kirk means well, but that fact does little to comfort him.

“Alright, I’ll drop it,” Kirk surrenders, his voice soft. “But there is one last thing you should know,” He pauses at the crosswalk and turns to Leonard. Eerily stoic, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Leonard's breath hitched.

“Ryder’s got nothing on you in terms of looks, okay? Seriously he's like, 5’7, and his face isn't at all symmetrical-”

Leonard revs up and smacks Kirk in the back of the head harder than he ever had and feels no regret. Not even after Kirk's high-pitched “ Ouch!”

“Would you quit it! You gossip like a damn schoolgirl!”

The sign blinks at them to walk, and Leonard drags Kirk across the street, fingers digging into his arm.

“Ow, ow, I was just saying-“

“Wait a minute,” Leonard lets his friend go and smooths down his sleeve. “How do you know what he looks like anyway?”

Kirk puts himself at a safe distance from the Doctor, cradling his arm. “Well, the operations manager would usually talk to the department heads during a transfer, but Sunshine passed him off to me. I said no at first, obviously, because I hate managing, but then she finally told me she was almost Mrs. Ryder Denver. So yeah, I spoke with him a few times, just business. Have to say though, I couldn't imagine them together. He comes off as a bit of a douche.”

Leonard breathes deeply, reigning in the emotions that he doesn’t need Kirk to pick up on. The idea of Sunshine being engaged does enough to unsettle him without knowing that the man in question “ came off as a douche” . He feels something boil under the surface.

“Yeah?” is all he can strangle out.

“Yeah—He’s like a classic douchey security buff,” Kirk continues, unaware of his friend's white knuckles. “You know the kind– uptight, condescending, has one earring and thinks it's edgy-”

“Wears their uniform a size too small? Yeah, I know the type.”

“Exactly, and Sunshine is so…so-”

“Heart-of-gold?”

“Yeah! Opposites attract I guess, but I don't know, something was off.”

To Leonard, the entire thing is off. All of it. Everything . He doesn’t understand why Sunshine decided he doesn’t get to know, why it is a secret in the first place, why she almost married a douche, why he cares so damn much .

The enterprise comes into view like the sun on the horizon, and Leonard is relieved .

“Your arm’s all right?” Leonard asks, an apology without apologizing. Jim knows this and breathes a laugh.

“Yup, the ear’s fine too.”

The Doctor nods, but his eyes remain trained in front of him. Through the glass window panes, he eyes the ship, eager to hide away in the familiar place. He would have opened the door for Kirk, as a gesture, but of course, the Yorktown Federation Port has to have automatic doors. He huffs, and the artificial lights illuminate his red cheeks. They approach their home in silent tandem, their shoes clinking against the hard floors.

“You should talk to her, Bones,” Kirk breaks the quiet, head down while he taps the access code to the enterprise hull. “Ask her why she didn't mention the ex. I’m sure she has a good reason, probably one you'll wanna hear.”

Leonard wants to be mean. He wants to shake Kirk's words off with an insult and go to bed. But he swallows his pride, and it goes down like nails.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Hope. It bubbles up within his chest, and he pushes it down. Finally, the stark white enterprise interior greets him. He breathes a little easier.

Kirk stumbles over the first step— “ Woah ”-- and Leonard steadies him with a raised eyebrow. “Andorian ale finally catching up with you?”

“Pfft,” Kirk scoffs. “Couldn’t catch me if it tried.”

Leonard pauses, then laughs, the first genuine one all night, and it has Kirk grinning back.

The enterprise is empty, its residents still on the streets they just returned from. So, without restraint, they laugh, and Kirk stumbles, and Leonard forgets for a moment about the unsaid feelings under his skin.

Kirk is an idiot, and he’s a good friend.

He’s happy to banter about whatever comes out of Kirk's drunk mouth and to correct him when he takes a wrong turn in his own ship. Leonard claps his hand on his shoulder and drawls, “It’s this way, captain .”

“Uhh, no , Chekov keeps the good whiskey in his locker, this way,” Kirk insists with a point down the hallway, and Leonard is amazed at his eagerness to get blacked out the night before embarking.

“Are you out of your mind? No way. You can drink like a fish when you don't need to fly a starship in the morning.”

“What are you, my mom ?”

Christ.

“No, but I pity the poor woman,” he huffs and gestures down the hallway leading to his quarters. Kirk frowns and scrunches his nose.

“Raincheck, Kirk, c’mon.”

He begrudgingly obliges, having given his friend a hard enough time tonight anyway. The yawn that crawls out of his mouth a moment later corroborates Leonard's decision. He is tired, and Kirk shouldn't drink anymore, but he’d be lying if he said those were his only motives to end the night early.

“You win this one, Bones, but next time I swear we'll be out till sunrise,” he says between another yawn and a hiccup.

“Uh-huh. Try not to trip.” Leonard reminds himself of the virtue of patience and keeps walking.

Kirk manages to type in his room's access code all by himself, with only a moment of squinting, and a break to roll up the black sleeves of his turtleneck. Leonard is impressed, and the bar is low.

“Drink a bottle of water, and get some sleep, We’ll talk tomorrow.” he crosses his arms over his chest and waits for protest.

Kirk only hums. “You headed to your room?”

The doctor's fingers drum against the doorframe. “Was thinking I’d check in on Sunshine,” he says, blinks, and rushes out, “and the rest of the Skeleton crew, of course. Maybe medbay too, then I’ll hit the hay.” He fleetingly wonders if that sounds believable, or at least casual.

Kirk smiles a genuine smile. “Sounds like a good plan, Bones. See ya in the morning, and tell her I said hi .” Before he can react, his friend waves, and the door slides shut. Then, he’s alone in the hallways, and he has to put his money where his mouth is.

Shit .

The way to the bridge feels daunting now, like climbing Everest. Like climbing Everest with the shittiest rope ever. Like climbing Everest with the shittiest rope ever, several pounds of emotional baggage, and a Starfleet captain breathing down his neck. He considers just going to bed, pretending he never even mentioned the whole thing. Maybe even pretend he doesn't care to get answers. He can just leave it be.

The desire to see her trumps all of it.

The halls are deserted, which he’s thankful for. He doesn’t need anyone around to watch him squirm in the elevator. A deep breath, a punch of the open elevator button and—

“I told you I don't have any threes! Go fish, again .”

He sees the back of the captain's chair first, then Starfleet-issued black boots hanging off of it. The whoosh of the door draws the attention of the room to him. Eyes sweep through the vaguely familiar faces of the night crew, all six staring at him like they are waiting for an explanation, which he doesn’t really have. The heeled black boots plant themselves on the ground, the captain's seat swivels around. His heart works double time.

“ Leonard ? Hi! What are you doing here?”

Sunshine’s got a hand of cards between her pointer and her thumb, and a sweatshirt pulled over her uniform dress, and it distracts Leonard for longer than it should. He clears his throat, and it shakes loose the feelings stuck there.

“Just thought I'd check in on our hard working night crew, who is surely on task.” He descends the bridge steps.

“Well, then, you'll be happy to hear that I am, in fact, glancing at my station every 20 minutes, and I’m the undefeated go-fish champion.”

She waves the cards at herself like a fan, legs crossed and smile wide.

“Undefeated, huh? Glad to see your talents going to good use.” Her smile gets a bit brighter, and she does a quick breathy laugh with her nose. For a moment there's quiet, and Leonard begins scrambling for a way to ask her the thing he wants to ask her. The bridge is crowded, for a skeleton crew, he thinks. The redshirt to Sunshine’s left breaks the silence before he can.

“I’m not sure if I’d call it talent…I’m pretty sure she's cheating,” they grumble, and Sunshine doesn't spare a moment, whipping the chair around. He can almost see the panic fill her eyes, like she’s just been accused of a heinous crime.

“I’m not! Are you still thinking about that last round? Because that was—”

Even Leonard winces a bit at her shrill tone, and he’s pretty sure she just woke the navigator who had fallen asleep at his station, so he claps his hands on her shoulders.

“Sounds to me like this card game has you wound like a spring,” he interrupts her before her voice jostles anyone else awake.

She pouts, lip jutted out and everything.

“Let's go for a walk,” he suggests. He doesn’t even let his nerves talk him out of it. She looks at him curiously, her eyebrows drawn.

“I dunno, I probably shouldn’t leave…”

“I’m sure someone else can deal cards while you’re gone,” he tells her, already offering his arm.

The Ensign, Leonard still doesn’t know their name, waves her off. “Go, Lieutenant, It's fine. I’m sure we can handle a few minutes without you.”

She bites her lip and cautiously loops her arm around his, leaving the captain's chair to her subordinate.

“Alright, but don’t start a new game without me,” she warns lightly.

Leonard doesn’t get nervous with her arm looped around his, really he doesn’t. He’s headfirst into this thing now, no room for nerves.

She drinks her whiskey neat, he learns, and it surprises him. Surprises him even more when she downs it like a shot.

The walk there had been quiet mostly, except for when Sunshine regaled the stories of her card game wins.

“Did you have a nice time with Kirk?” she asks politely.

“I dunno if I’d say that, but maybe Jim would disagree.”

She laughs lightly, and her finger traces the lip of the whiskey glass. He doesn’t know if it’s the best idea, but he refills her cup.

There is a beat of silence, and the conversation with Kirk pushes to the front of his thoughts. There's a heaviness on the tip of his tongue, the desire to ask why . Without really knowing how to.

“Wish I could’ve gone with you guys,” she says, her gaze downcast. There's a rare melancholy to her tone, something vulnerable woven into it.

“You could’ve,” he tells her, and her eyes pull from the table.

“I had--”

“Yeah, I know what you– I just mean–I’m sure Kirk would have given you the night off if you asked… God knows he owes you enough favors.”

“I guess,” she shrugs, “it wasn’t really the best night for it, though.”

He could go along with her lame excuse, vaguely agreeing that, yeah, there will be other nights. But the ache to know what exactly goes on in her pretty head has words tumbling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, Kirk mentioned somethin’ like that,” he mumbles, nerves permeating the sentence.

“...what?”

Shit.

“I mean, he may have-”

“What exactly did he mention?” Her tone holds a sharp undercurrent of something rare for Sunshine– anger.

Leonard runs a hand down his face, suddenly thinking of all the much more tactful ways he could have begun this. The gentle buzz of alcohol still in his bloodstream keeps him from panicking.

“Nothing terrible, just that there was someone in town you wouldn’t wanna see.”

“As if ,” she scoffs. “Kirk’s never been that vague in his life.”

“…fair enough.”

She groans miserably, fitfully pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her hands and burying her face in the fabric.

“You were not supposed to find out like this,” she says, muffled.

“And how was I supposed to find out?” He asks quietly, like the question will frighten her away.

A sniffle comes from behind her hands–the sound tugs at his heart.

“ I don't know. Maybe someone could have told you when I’m dead and then we’d never have to have this conversation.”

He reaches for her slowly, taking her wrists in a gentle hold and pulling them away from her face, revealing her reddened nose and watery eyes. Her hands are cold, and grow stiff under his touch.

“Sunshine. It's an ex , not a damn intergalactic scandal. There are worse conversations to have,” he reasons.

“You don't get it,” she tells him matter-of-factly, pulling her hands from his touch. Embarrassment quickly heats his body, and he wipes his palms on his pants.

“I’d get it a lot more if you talked about it.” He flexes his jaw, frustration bleeding into his voice.

She narrows her eyes, punctuating her glare with a sniffle.

“If I wanted to talk about it, I would’ve.”

“With Kirk? Because he seems to get it.”

“Why are you acting so—”

“Concerned? Oh, I dunno because you’re my friend?” Exasperation colors his tone.

“I was gonna say entitled,” she grits out. Her anger comes out half-heartedly, sounding more like watery sadness than anything. “I don't tell you everything, and I don't have to. You’re not my-” She sighs. “Why does it matter? I was engaged for like, a year, and now, I’m not.”

You’re not my–

Her half sentence sticks in his mind and sends blood rushing to his head. He thinks of all the things that he is to her: a colleague, a doctor, a friend. All the things he isn’t feels like a gaping hole.

He watches her clench her fists and force her tears back.

“It matters because it upsets you enough to work the night shift,” he sighs, the anger he’s been holding seeps out of his hands like water. “I’m not pressing you for the latest gossip, Sunny. I’m asking because it would be lousy of me not to.”

She says nothing, taking in his words.

“I’m no stranger to this stuff, y’know,” he prods her gently. “My ex-wife sent me running all the way to space .” He says lightly, and the corners of her mouth twitch up briefly.

“He didn't send me running, I sent him,” she confesses, shaking her head.

“ You ?”

“Me. The thing is,” she shrugs, “it should have worked, y’know? Like on paper, it was perfect. Ryder and I were academy sweethearts, liked all the same shit, were top of our classes, blah, blah, blah.” She rolls her eyes. “Our friends used to tease us, say that it wasn't fair, and we were too in love.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” she says, sighing. Her eyes drift nowhere in particular. “It didn’t feel nice after a while though. It felt suffocating. I was half a person with him, we were Ryder and Sunshine–and that was one entity.” Her tears dry on her lashes, as she becomes entrenched in the memory.

“But the person we were wasn’t me . Because he never thought my jokes were funny, or my hobbies were interesting or my friends were cool, so I was willing to throw them all out. Eventually all that was left was him. His ideas, his wants, his needs. I was backed into a corner. I should’ve left when I realized but I loved him… and I was really scared of being alone.”

She pushes her hair behind her ears and lets out a shaky breath.

“I was a coward, and I couldn’t leave. I wanted to try and fix it, figure out who I was, and then maybe Ryder could love that person,” She shakes her head. “I was naive. Ryder always wanted someone I couldn’t be. Someone quieter or someone better at being a person. I’m always so all over the place you know? Too much for him.”

“You’re not–”

“It's okay, Len, you don't have to say anything.” she says, meeting his eyes again, taming the budding fire in his heart.

The idea of Sunshine being anything but completely herself unnerves him. Her jokes are funny, he can’t recall ever laughing as much before she boarded the enterprise. Her ramblings about xenobotany and classic earth songs never fail to catch his attention, even when he barely knows what she's talking about. Being around Sunshine is as easy as breathing, and he’s starting to need it as much too.

“Anyways, he proposed our senior year, like we weren’t a sinking ship, and I said yes and pretended like the ring wasn’t a last-ditch attempt to bring us back to life.”

Her teeth sink into her lip, her eyes dragging to her lap.

“I don't know what it was, but one night I just…broke. I couldn’t keep pretending to be someone I wasn’t, or beg to be loved.”

A few tears slide down her cheeks, she scrubs them away with her sleeve.

Leonard wants to tell her that she should never have to beg for anything in the first place, least of all love; he wants to tell her that she's worthy just the way she is. His fingers twitch with the desire to take her by the shoulders and tell her over and over that she’s perfect, that she couldn’t be too much if she tried. Sunshine has always had a magnetic pull to her, drawing in everyone she meets with her warmth. The idea of anyone taking that away from her pulls his heartstrings tight enough to snap. He holds back his anger, refraining from telling her that Ryder is an asshole who didn’t deserve a second of her time.

The wiser part of him knows that's not what he needs.

“We had planned to be on the USS Endeavor together, but I rescinded my application. I signed up to do on-planet research instead. I wrote a long letter, left it on our bed, packed up my things, and left.”

She coughs in a way that he knows is covering up a sob and takes a deep breath. The sound sends a pang of emotion through him.

“It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. We were engaged, for Christ's sake, and I couldn’t even look him in the eye when I left him. And don’t even get me started on the fallout. We had all the same friends, and our families were so close… it was all so humiliating . Everyone expected us to live happily ever after, and then, there I was, giving him back his ring in a coffee shop.”

She knocks back the rest of her drink, like a consolation prize for getting all the words out.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Len. I never wanted you to think of me like that, as someone who would do that.”

“ Sweetheart ,” he says like a plea, calling her attention. “No one in their right mind would think differently of you for leaving something that wasn’t good for you– or at least they shouldn’t.”

She's shaking her head before he finishes his sentence.

“But I–”

“I know. You didn’t go about it the way you maybe should’ve– or the way you wanted to. It doesn’t make you a bad person, it doesn’t make you any less… good.”

She hiccups, her chest rising and falling rapidly as another stream of tears drips down her cheeks. He can't help himself – and even if he could, he doesn’t want to – he brings both hands to her cheeks, wiping away the salty tears.

“It's alright,” he says gently, swiping his thumb under her eye again. “You’re alright.”

She nods, breaths finally evening out, and his hands reluctantly fall back onto his lap.

He remembers well the storm of feelings his divorce left him with. The gulit, the lonliness, feeling like the world was ending.

“I get it, y’know. The shitty relationship, becoming somebody you don't wanna be,” the barstool squeaks as he leans on the counter. He hasn't talked about his marriage since he told the story to Kirk years ago. It feels odd to tell it again.

“My ex and I met in college, fell head over heels, and I proposed a year later. I thought… well, we both thought we were soulmates. There was this connection between us that I’d never felt before, and I thought this must be it.”

“After a year ?” she gawks. He casts her a sideways glance and chuckles.

“A perfect year, mind you. Not a single disagreement, not a bad date– every day was straight out of a damn love story or something. Until we got hitched, that is. Then it was all disagreements.”

He anxiously taps a rhythm on the bar top. The memory still burns him now, of the fiery conflict, of the sleepless nights.

“We were the same in all the worst ways, stubborn, headstrong, prideful. We couldn't settle an argument to save our lives. It probably didn't help that I was in the middle of residency and pulling 100-hour weeks. It was miserable. I hardly recognized myself… I know I don’t have the best temper, but I never wanted to be an angry person.”

He lets out a slow breath, “I was mad as hell when she called it quits, said a lot of stuff I regret. But she was right to do it. We brought out the worst in each other, I was just too narrow-minded to see it. All this to say, I’m sure I would have taken the night shift to avoid her too.”

Sunshine rests a comforting hand on his shoulder, her thumb pressing circles into the muscle.

“I’m sorry, Len.”

He leans into her touch without thinking about it. “These things happen,” he tells her decidedly. “When something’s not right, there's nothing you can do to change that. You do the best you can with where you’re at, that's all.” He pictures himself, young and full of fire, holding onto something that had already slipped away. “Which you did, Sunshine. I know it’s hard to see now, but I promise it gets easier.”

When he drags his gaze from the mahogany bar top back to Sunshine, she's watching him curiously.

“What am I supposed to see?”

“That you were young, and scared, and you did what you needed to for yourself. Even if it's not shit you’re proud of, it makes you who you are. You learn, and it makes you better.”

She says nothing, silently considering his words for several moments. “Well, it better get easier soon, because it sucks .”

He chuckles, “That it does.”

She reaches right past him and grabs the half-empty bottle of whiskey.

“We should toast,” she says, the melancholy in her voice fading away, probably tucked back behind a wall. “To failed marriages.”

She’s already refilling their glasses and lifting hers to bump with his.

“Thought you ducked out on the whole wedding thing?” he teases.

“Fine then, to failed romantics,” she impatiently shakes the ice in her glass, “Just do it.”

He knocks his glass with hers and agrees, “To failed romantics, and night shifts, and all the other shitty stuff.”

Her face pinches as she finishes her drink. Gingerly, she takes both of their glasses and stacks them behind the bar.

Like ripping a bandage off and letting the wound breathe, Leonard feels lighter. As Sunshine hops off the bar stool and straightens her uniform skirt, he can see on her face that she does too.

“Thank you for the drink, and the talk, Len,” she says, and he waves her off.

“Don't mention it.”

“ Totally gonna mention it,” she grins, “and when the schedule suddenly gives you two days off in a row, you’ll know why.”

He laughs, and shakes his head, “I don’t think that's allowed, Lieutenant.”

“I have my ways,” she says innocently, as she saunters to the door.

He watches her go, everything she’s told him still buzzing in his head. He can hardly make sense of everything he’s feeling at once, but there's one thought that sticks out among the rest, that sits on his chest, demanding to be heard.

“Sunshine?” he calls before she’s gone, giving into his relentless mind.

“Yeah?”

When she turns around, he’s flooded with everything he’s ever wanted to tell her. How she has seeped into every part of his life since he met her, despite his once armored heart. How she doesn’t see it, but she's changed the entire atmosphere of the bridge, pouring life into it with her energy. How she's taught him how to be a better friend, a better man, even a better doctor. How she’s not too much, she's everything.

“You should know, you’re never too much, that's ridiculous. Anyone on this ship would agree in a heartbeat. Don’t know what I’d– what we’d do without you,” he rushes out. “I hope you never think you need to be anything other than who you are.”

She goes still in the door frame and observes him for a moment. He flounders in her silence, wondering if he should have just kept his mouth shut. She suddenly moves from the doorway, quickly striding towards him, the sound of her boots clacking on the floor. He has no time to react before she gently places her hand on his chest. She wastes no time, leaning down and pressing a warm kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” she says meaningfully, searching his eyes for a brief moment before she turns heel again. She’s out the door without him even mustering up a word to say.

His skin heats where her lips had touched him, a crackling feeling left in their place. He lifts his fingers to the skin, ghosting over the sticky remnants of her lipgloss.

He sits, dumbfounded, knowing he’s gone somewhere there's no coming back from.

#guys new chapter whaaattt #theyre so close to kissing I swear #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy x you #bones x reader #leonard bones mccoy #star trek imagine #star trek alternate original series #star trek #on a cloudy day #leonard mccoy #james t kirk #star trek aos #star trek fanfiction #karl urban #chris pine

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captainsophiestark · 19 days

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Not A Doctor

Bones McCoy x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Star Trek

Summary: Bones' SO hurts themselves on an away mission and has to stitch themselves up as well as they can to buy time for a med evac to the Enterprise

Word Count: 1,533

Category: Fluff, Humor, a little bit of Angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Shit," I hissed, pressing a hand to my side as I slid down the wall. When I finally got up the courage to pull my hand back and look, it came away with a lot more blood than I'd hoped to find. I'd fallen pretty far and managed to avoid any broken bones based on my pain levels, but the wound in my side was gaping and looked concerningly serious.

I could practically hear the extended bridge crew chorusing "I told you so" from here.

As if on cue, my communicator beeped. I grimaced, but managed to take it out of my bag and open it to respond.

"What's up?" I groaned.

"Y/N, where are you?" came the voice of Jim Kirk, one of my best friends and the captain of the Enterprise. "Scotty's reporting he can only find two targets to beam up."

Dammit. That figured.

"I'm... not totally sure. I was trying to follow the signature on my tricorder to that plant I've been looking for when the ground just gave way under me. I'm not sure how far I fell, but I hit something pretty hard on the way down and I've got... quite the gash in my side."

Silence on the other end for a few moments, then:

"Hang tight. We're coming to find you."

The communicator hung up with a click, and I sighed, ignoring the flare of pain in my side. I had faith in Jim's determination and ability to find me, especially with Spock here helping him, but I still needed to do something if I wanted to be alive when they found me.

Thankfully, I'd watched my boyfriend, Doctor Leonard McCoy, stich people up often enough that I felt fairly confident I could do a passable job on myself. I dug some sewing supplies out of my bag that I hadn't removed from my last away mission misadventure, and pulled the hem of my shirt up to get a better look at the wound.

I grimaced, gritting my teeth and trying to prepare for this. I'd been so excited to join Kirk and Spock on this away mission. This planet was supposed to have one of the rarest plants in the galaxy, and I'd been looking forward to finding it since I'd first heard we'd be coming here. And now, I was at the bottom of this pit or cave or whatever, slowly bleeding out, without even a picture of the plant to show for it.

Ugh.

I tried to focus on my breathing as I threaded a needle and put it to my skin. I knew the wound needed to be disinfected before I totally closed it, but I didn't have anything on me to do that with, and I knew Bones would be able to take care of it for me if I could manage to get back to him.

I took a few deep breaths to steel myself, then stuck the needle through. I swore loudly and kept up a steady stream of expletives as I sewed up the wound. I pulled it closed as tightly as I dared, then held my jacket to my waist to try to staunch the remainder of the bleeding.

I sighed, long and hard, then leaned my head back against the wall of whatever hole I'd fallen into. I had no idea how long those stitches had taken me, but it certainly hadn't been quick. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too much longer before I heard Jim and Spock stumbling down some passage towards me.

I focused on deep breaths as the pain continued to throb in my side, completely zoning out to the time and environment around me. Finally, I heard some shuffling movement from a slightly more gradual incline up ahead of me. The voices of my friends echoed out, curious and searching.

"Y/N!"

"I'm here!" I called back, my voice a little weaker than normal. I cleared my throat, then tried again. "Here!"

A moment later, my friends came into view. Jim grinned at me as Spock started scanning the space, probably trying to decide on the best way to get me out of here.

"How're you holding up?" asked Jim. I forced a smile.

"Living the dream."

He scoffed, then moved to crouch beside me and put one of my arms over his shoulder.

"Spock! Come help me."

"We'll need to get around the corner and most of the way back up the incline we came down to reach a spot where Mr. Scott can register us," said Spock as he joined us. "There seems to be some property of this rock that's prohibiting the transporter signal from reaching us."

"Great," I huffed, grimacing as my friends pulled me to my feet. Even resting most of my weight on them, I was still seeing spots. "This is gonna be great."

Between the three of us, somehow, we managed to get back into transporter range. I almost lost consciousness at one point, but we'd paused, and I'd managed to pull myself back from the brink. When the Enterprise's transporter room finally materialized before me, the relief was palpable, not least of all because Bones was waiting for me.

"Y/N," he said, jumping to attention and rushing onto the pad to replace Jim at my side. With Spock's help, we started moving immediately for the Med Bay. "What happened?"

"I was following the signature of the plant I was looking for on my tricorder. Then all of a sudden, the ground gave way underneath me. It wasn't a straight drop, I don't think, but I fell a pretty long way, bouncing off the rock slide and the walls of the cave I fell into on the way down. I'm bruised, but I don't think it's anything bad besides the cut on my stomach."

Bones nodded. "We'll get you to Med Bay and make sure."

Luckily, my boyfriend was very good at staying calm and focused in a crisis for his patients. He was completely in the zone as he and Spock helped me into a bed once we reached Med Bay, and then Bones started checking my vitals and assessing my injuries. I watched him carefully for any break in his usual bedside manner to tell me if I needed to be worried about something, but none came.

Hopefully that was a good sign, and not just because he was an incredible doctor.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to me, Bones returned from his testing and reappeared by my bedside. His hands were on his hips, but he seemed calmer, and definitely out of intense doctor mode.

"Alright, the good news is you'll be just fine. But I'm still gonna need to disinfect the wound and stitch you up," he said. I gave him the best smile I could muster.

"Sounds like a plan."

He sighed, then gently lifted my shirt high enough to give him access to the gash in my side. The light touch of his fingertips sent goosebumps along my skin, but I did my best to ignore them, especially as Bones frowned.

"What the hell did you do to yourself?" he asked, not looking away from his work on my side.

"Uh... I slammed into a rock. We covered this already, remember?"

"No, I didn't mean your injury." Bones paused and looked up at me, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. "I meant these stitches. Yikes."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, making Bones chuckle as he got back to work.

"Okay, whatever. I'm a biologist, not a doctor, dammit. I think I did a pretty good job, considering the circumstances."

"Mm, I guess so. Barely."

"Hey!" I laughed, hitting him lightly in the shoulder. "You better knock it off or I'm gonna start practicing my stitches on you."

Bones snorted, but I could see the smile on his face as he continued working. Thanks to the medical facilities of the Enterprise, it barely hurt as he undid my messy job and redid it with a much better one of his own.

"So... what are you doing after this?" I asked after a few long moments of letting him work in peace. He paused to look up at me again, one eyebrow raised.

"Don't tell me you're hitting on your own boyfriend after only the low-level painkillers I gave you?"

"I can and will hit on my own boyfriend whenever I want, no painkillers required. But I was mostly asking if you had other patients to deal with after me, or if you'd be free to come cuddle on the couch and eat junk food with me. I think it'd really help speed up my recovery process."

Bones' mouth quirked into a smile again as he put the finishing touches on my stitches.

"Well if it's for the wellness of a patient... I think Nurse Chapel might be willing to take over from me for the rest of the day."

"Thank goodness for Christine."

Bones and I shared a smile, then he returned to his work and I watched him contentedly. Obviously, life and death situations on away missions were never ideal—but I couldn't really bring myself to be upset about how this one had played out, even if I hadn't managed to get my plant in the end.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 2 years

Text

Pajama Party - Star Trek

A/N: inspired in part by this work of Art, and also by my obsession with cute pajamas. Mostly just a fic about the crew, but had to throw in a little reader x Leonard, cause you know me. Also let’s just pretend JJ is not there.

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader, Enterprise crew x Reader Word Count: 2.5k Synopsis: When the power goes out in the Enterprise, the crew must navigate through the darkened halls in their pajamas to restore power.

You can find all the pajamas in this post here!

When the lights went off, you had just pulled back the covers of your bed.

You gave it a moment. You were in deep space, after all, much farther than anyone had travelled before. Hopefully, this was just a brief glitch as the Enterprise acclimated to the new territory.

A few seconds later, you heard the sound of machinery powering down, and the steady hum of the thrusters stopped.

“Fuck,” you muttered. Emergency lights came on in your room, leading you towards the exit. When the door slid open, you knew that the Enterprise at least had some power. The hallway was littered with bright red emergency lights every few feet, and at every cabin door, a crewmember’s head was popping out.

“What is it, Y/N?” a crewmember three doors down from you asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll see if I can find Jim,” you said. “Everyone just hang here for a while. When there’s an update, you’ll know.”

“Are we in danger?” someone asked.

“No, we are not.” All heads turned towards the opposite end of the hallway where Jim Kirk was strutting towards you. Also dressed in his pajamas, Jim looked as if he had just woken up, with his hair mussed at the back of his head.

“What’s going on?” you asked as he stopped in front of you. His pajamas had you doing a double take. “Is that . . . the Enterprise?” you asked, unable to hide the smile on your face.

“What?” He looked down at his pajamas and a soft blush appeared on his face. He stammered over a response before shaking his head. “Is it wrong for a man to be proud of his ship?”

“When that pride manifests itself like this? Absolutely. You are such a nerd.”

“Oh, come on, like yours are any better,” he said, motioning to the floral pattern of your own pajamas.

“They are. One hundred percent better than yours.”

“So you’re telling me you always dress in matching three piece sets? You weren’t expecting someone, Y/N, were you?”

“Please,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “The only thing I was expecting was a full night of sleep.”

“As was I. So what happened?”

“What, just because I work in engineering you think I know what’s going on?”

“Yeah,” Jim said, looking at you incredulously.

“Fine, I can figure it out. I don’t know what happened just by sound. Let’s go down to engineering.”

“Why do I have to go down, too?” Jim asked, “I really could use a good night’s sleep.”

“How can you take pride in your ship if you don’t help her in her time of need?” you asked, your eyes flashing back to his pajamas.

“Just lead the way,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

As you walked down the halls, you took note of what was still functioning on the Enterprise. You were still standing, so the gravity levels were still normal. Oxygen levels were normal, as was the temperature regulator.

“All necessary functions are still running, meaning that it wasn’t a complete shut down of the system,” you said. “It has to be something with the energy core, then.”

“My thoughts exactly, Ms. Y/L/N.”

You and Jim both turned to see Spock and Uhura walking towards you from the hallway connecting their sector to the main corridor. They were both dressed in pajamas, and when they stepped into the light, your jaws dropped.

“What are you wearing?” Jim asked at the same time that you said, “What’s on your face?”

“Nyota was applying an avocado based facial mask to my skin when the power went out.”

“He has very dry skin,” Nyota said as explanation.

“Does he?” Jim considered, studying his first officer’s face.

“Captain, as interesting as Lieutenant Uhura’s face mask recipe may be, I believe our primary focus should still be on returning the ship’s power.”

“I agree,” you said, tugging on Jim’s arm to lead him back down the hall.

“The energy core has three distinct parts, every few months, these pieces must be rotated to ensure that none of the parts are drained of their full energy, in the case of an emergency. It is my theory that perhaps one of these pieces was not rotated soon enough, and thus was drained of its power, sinking us into this darkness,” Spock explained.

“That sound about right to you?” Jim asked.

“I don’t usually deal with the energy core,” you said, “But yes, I believe Spock’s theory is correct. Once we get down to engineering, we’ll know for sure.”

“And you can fix it?”

“Like I said, I’m not an expert on the energy core. Mr. Scott should be able to, though.”

“Let’s hope Scotty’s awake then,” Jim said.

The turbolift was apparently not deemed a necessity, because when you tried to use it to bring you down to engineering, there was only a hum that came from the doors that never opened.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this far down here,” Nyota said. “Never walked down here at least.”

“I have,” Jim said. He stopped in his tracks, looking around at the number of doors around your group. He followed the numbers back a few doors before knocking loudly on a door.

“No,” a voice yelled from the other end. Leonard.

“Come on, Bones, I know you heard us.” The door slid open and Leonard stepped out, dressed in a long nightshirt that made your jaw drop.

“How the hell could I not?” he asked. “I’ve heard you coming since you were three levels up. What happened to the power?” he asked, looking at you.

“What are you wearing?”

“Pajamas.”

“You look like Ebenezer Scrooge,” Jim laughed.

“Why did you wake me up if you were just going to make fun of my pajamas?”

“Because I had no idea you would be wearing a dress.”

“It’s not a dr--”

“Gentleman,” Spock said, stepping between the captain and his CMO. “Instead of making comments about each other’s nightwear, perhaps our time would be better spent bringing power back to the ship.”

“Yeah, alright,” Leonard said, rolling his eyes as he stepped away from Jim. “It’s not like yours aren’t even more embarrassing.”

“How are mine more embarrassing than a dress?” Jim asked. “And speaking of pajamas,” he said, turning to Spock, “What are you wearing?”

“My sleepwear falls under Starfleet regulation, as does Dr. McCoy’s. Not only are your pajamas out of regulation, Captain, they are also, by far, the most embarrassing.”

“Okay, okay,” Uhura said, “Let’s just get down to engineering. Clearly, we’re all a little sleep deprived.” You exchanged a glance with her and found the same smirk on her face.

“I never would have taken you as a nightgown person,” you said to Leonard as the rest of the group fell into step around you. He seemed annoyed when he looked at you, but there was a soft smile on his face. You also never would have thought you could be attracted to a man in a nightgown.

“What should I be wearing? Colorful, floral pajamas like you?” he asked.

“Well, mine are a lot cuter.”

“They are,” he said. A slight blush rose in your cheeks, but thanks to the dim red light from the emergency lights, no one noticed it.

“If you two are done flirting,” Jim called. “Can we please just get to engineering.”

“You’re the one who stopped to pick him up,” you said, pointing a thumb at Leonard.

“And you’re the one slowing us down to flirt with him,” he said, “We can blame each other all day.”

“Whatever, let’s just--”

“Captin! Captin!”

The entire group turned to see Chekov and Sulu rushing towards the group. Chekov had been the one to yell, and when he reached the group, he was panting, and sweat was slicking his skin. This was easy to see, because despite a pair of plaid pajama pants, Chekov wasn’t wearing anything. A quick glance at the group, you saw that you weren’t the only one surprised by Chekov’s muscles.

Conversely, Sulu was wearing the exact opposite. Fully clothed, Sulu's pajamas were designed to look like a penguin.

“Ha!” Jim said, pointing to Sulu. “His are more embarrassing than mine!”

“My husband, daughter, and I all got matching ones last Christmas,” he said, “I like to wear them. They remind me of home.”

“Yours are still more embarrassing, Jim,” you said. He waved a hand to shut you up.

“Why did you guys run all the way down here?”

“The ship has dropped out of warp,” Sulu said.

“Are we in friendly space?”

“We’re in unknown space, Captin,” Chekov said with a sigh. “As far as we can tell, there are no nearby life forms.”

“Either way, shields up,” Jim ordered.

“Already done, sir.”

“Good. Now, no more interruptions,” he said. “Let’s go figure this out.”

“All of us?” Leonard asked.

“We’ve all made it this far,” Jim said with a shrug. “I guess we’re all going to engineering.

You were not aware that the ship even had stairs, the thought never crossed your mind that one day you might have to go down twenty flights of them. When the group finally arrived in engineering, you all took a moment to catch your breaths.

“Everyone alright?” Leonard asked. Everyone grumbled in the affirmative.

“What are you all doing down here?” Scotty asked, walking up one of the metal staircases that led deeper into engineering.

“We’re here to fix the energy core,” you said, your eyes widening as he reached the top of the stairs. He was wearing red plaid pajamas, which would have been normal, if not for the matching nightcap on his head.

“If you had one of those you really would be Scrooge,” you muttered to Leonard. He let out a breath of laughter but shook his head.

“What?” Scotty asked.

“What are you wearing?” Jim asked.

“What are you wearing?” Scotty asked, putting his hands on his hips, “I know the Enterprise inside and out, and I wouldn’t even wear those.” The group all tried to stifle their laughter, especially when Jim glared at them.

“Scotty, the energy core.”

“I’m working on it,” he said.

“What’s the holdup?”

“I am missing a piece,” Scotty said sheepishly. “I have Keenser looking for it now, seeing as he is the one who lost it!” he yelled over the railing. “But so far--”

“What does it look like?” Uhura asked. “We can all look for it.”

Scotty described what he was looking for, then set all of you off in different directions of engineering to see who could find it first. You were walking through a section of machinery, all still humming quietly, with lights blinking every few seconds, when you heard a muttered curse.

Turning the corner, you spotted Leonard rubbing his toe as he glared down at a box of supplies. You laughed softly, and he looked up.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine. Just can’t see anything in this mess, even if I knew what I was looking for.”

“Want to search together?” you asked. “I can point out boxes of supplies to you.” He smiled weakly at you but nodded his head.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, anything for--”

“Do not call me Scrooge again,” he said, following you to another shelf of supplies.

“I wasn’t. I was just going to say you,” you said. Leonard kept your gaze for a moment longer than expected. “So, um, I think it might be in this mess here.”

“Mess is right,” Leonard said, jumping on the change of subject. “Who keeps their stuff like this?”

“Oh, that would be me.”

“Ah hell, Y/N, I’m so--”

“Don’t be,” you said, “I know how I work. Maybe if I kept my stuff more organized we all wouldn’t be stuck searching in the dark.”

“You don’t know it’s here,” Leonard said, “Besides, it’s nice.”

“What is?”

“Tonight. I’ve always wanted to have a pajama party with the crew.” You laughed and crouched down to check the lower shelf.

“Found it!” someone called. You looked towards the sound and your eyes locked with Leonard’s.

“Shall we?” he asked, holding out his hand. You took it and let him pull you to your feet. As the two of you walked back towards the group, he didn’t let go of your hand until you were in view of the crew.

“Keenser had it the whole time,” Nyota said, leading Spock and the alien in question into the gathered group. Everyone’s jaws fell open when they saw what Keenser was wearing.

“Where the hell did you get those?” Scotty asked, his face reddening with annoyance as Keenser walked up to the group with the missing piece and a matching pair of pajamas to Scotty’s.

“Scotty, please, it has been a long night,” Jim said.

“Right.” He took the piece from Keenser and within a few minutes, had the energy core back up. It hummed and started to rotate normally again.

“No power though?” Sulu asked.

“The core takes a little while to heat up,” you said, “Unless in emergency situations, the core should be given twenty minutes to return to proper functioning.”

“Why did this even happen in the first place?” Jim asked.

“We switched models last year,” Scotty said. “This one doesn’t need to be swapped every few months, except it wasn’t updated in the ship’s programming. The Enterprise turned it off as a security precaution.”

“So this won’t happen again?”

“No, sir.”

“I’ll make sure the ship is updated first thing in the morning,” you said. Jim let out a sigh and nodded his head.

“Alright. Thank you all for your help. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The group made their way back up the stairs. Jim followed Chekov and Sulu onto their level, muttering something about getting a drink with Chekov. Nyota and Spock said their goodbyes at their level, until it was just you and Leonard.

“Thank you for helping us look,” you said. “Sorry Jim dragged you out of bed.”

“Don’t be,” Leonard said with a wave of his hand. “He usually finds a way to ruin my night one way or another.”

“Did you have plans tonight?”

“No. I intended to make some, but . . .”

“But?”

“I sort of chickened out,” he said, looking at you with a smile.

“What kind of plans? Not a different pajama party?”

“No,” he said with a laugh. “I wanted to ask someone out.”

“Oh.”

“But it’s alright, I got to spend the night with them anyway.”

“Oh,” you said again, your eyes locking with his as he stopped in front of his door.

“Not my idea of a first date,” he said, “But still an enjoyable evening.”

“I agree. So when are you going to get the courage to ask for a second date?”

“Right no--” He stopped talking when you were plunged into darkness, even the emergency lights going out. “What’s the matter now?”

“Nothing. When the core starts up, everything is shut down for two minutes.”

“Really? In that case . . .”

If anyone had been left out in the hall, when the lights came on, they would have found you and Leonard entangled in each other’s arms, in the middle of a hell of a kiss. You broke away with the lights and looked at him, breathless.

“So? A second date?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’d love to.”

“Me too. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Leonard.”

#leonard mccoy x reader #star trek x reader #leonard mccoy #jim kirk #spock #nyota uhura #pavel chekov #hikaru sulu #montgomery scotty #leonard mccoy imagine #star trek imagine #leonard mccoy fanfic #star trek fanfic #star trek fanfiction #leonard mccoy fanfiction #reader insert

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whovianwriter · 2 months

Note

leonard mccoy x reader

Everything

AN: Thank you so much for requesting, sorry it took me so long I restarted like three times cause I kept changing my mind on different things. Feel free to request anything!

Warnings: Blood, injury to the reader, hurt/comfort, thoughts about death, sad but then happy at the end

“Damn it, the engine was hard to fix but I finally got it.”

Y/N said as she was walking to her desk, then she felt the ship shake due to the engine going back on line but the shake would get worse before it got better. So she tried to stabilize herself with her desk as she waited for it to finish. But Then she saw one of the interns carrying nails and pieces of junk before she knew what happened. He fell on top of her and she felt the pain a couple minutes later as she felt something wet and warm get soaked through her uniform. There was yell and her vision began to fade when she saw Scotty picking her up.

“Come on Lass, keep your eyes open. You can’t fall asleep.”

It was getting hard to focus but she knew that this might not be ending on a happy note, she saw memories rush to her. Her childhood, a million smiles, some tears then she saw Leonard when they first met at the Academy. They started dating and fell in love, their wedding, they both just swayed to the music for so long they didn’t want the day to end. They both knew that they had finally found the right person for their other half. “Tell .. Lee.. I.. Love .. him.”

“You can tell him that yourself, Once you get fixed up.”

They soon got to the medbay and he laid her down at one of the tables, when Leonard came out to see what the noise was when he saw her. His wife bleeding out as he ran, a nurse stopped him as three doctors got to her. They knew he couldn’t work on her, they were too close. He felt the anger as her eyes closed and then he was upset then the anger came through. Scotty pulled him outside so the medical team had as much space they needed. “How the hell did that happen?!?”

As Scotty told him what information he had, Leonard was a mess as he kinda went into shock as he kept looking into the window to see anything but couldn’t he then saw the red on Scotty’s shirt and it made him want to hurl. That’s Y/N’s blood, he sat on the floor looking down trying to see if this was some horrible dream. He then saw another pair of feet run up to them and saw Scotty walking away and the new person kneeled in front of him lifting his head. It was Jim. “She’s going to be okay.”

Leonard looked back to this morning when they were snuggled together in their room, she had her head on his chest, his arm wrapped around her. Holding her like she was his life line. Their legs tangled together as she played with his free hand, ‘We should just call off, stay in bed. Snuggle, watch old shows and eat the leftovers. I’m too comfortable to move.’

‘Darlin’ as much as I want to do that, we only have a half day today and then we are off for a week for shore leave. I promise we can do all that tomorrow.’

‘Fine, but I hope you know I will expect cheesy rom coms as well.’

He laughed and kissed the top of her head before starting to untangle himself from her to get ready for the day, but once he stood she still didn’t stand up but was stretching out on the bed, he bent down and kissed her before saying, ‘I wouldn’t expect anything else, sweetheart.’

The sound of the hiss of the door opening brought Leonard back to the present, he slowly got up and relied on Jim a little so he wouldn’t lose his balance. It was one of the afternoon doctors coming to talk to them. He couldn’t remember his name right at the moment. “Y/N is going to be ok, we gave her a sleep hypo, so her body can heal a bit before we wake her up tomorrow morning. We made sure to get everything out but she will be sore for the next couple days at the very least. The damage wasn’t too bad, it hit bigger veins so that was why there was so much blood. You can come in and sit with her, Doctor McCoy.”

—------------------------------

“Len, I swear I will hit you with a pillow if you do not stop following me. I’m only going to the bathroom, I’ll be back in like 4 minutes.”

They got back to their room the next day in the late afternoon, since then which had only been a day he followed her everywhere just to make sure that she didn’t need his help. She had woken up with ease and even cracked a joke. She then wanted to make sure the intern was alright, he was wearing a welding apron, the most he got was a bruise.

Leonard felt like if he left her alone for too long he would see that he was still in the medbay waiting to see if she would wake up. He was thinking about that when she came out of the bathroom and came over and crawled into his lap looking at him while she had one hand on his cheek. “I’m ok Len.”

“I thought I was gonna lose you.”

“But you didn’t, I’m right here we both are. I admit I thought that that might have been the end for a second and all I could think of is you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, when we met, all the jokes you tell, our wedding where we stayed the whole night on the dance floor. I told Scotty to tell you that I love you. He responded with ‘You can tell him yourself.’”

“Ok I’m cutting off the rom coms, that was so cheesy.”

Y/N laughed then turned her attention onto her husband, “I love you Leonard McCoy, you are my everything.”

“I Love you, you are my everything.”

She bent down and kissed him, till they both couldn’t breath.

#leonard mccoy x reader #bones mccoy #bones x reader #star trek #jim kirk #dr mccoy #leonard mccoy #hurt/comfort #star trek imagine

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geminiwritten · 1 year

Text

game night ; bones

fandom: star trek

pairing: bones x reader

summary: after accidentally injuring yourself, you refuse to go to MedBay before attending a games night with the crew and your favourite grumpy (and very jealous) doctor

notes: this is bad!!! i am very sorry!!! i didn’t want to abandon it, so i forced myself to finish and it took several days, it is very disjointed, but i hope readable? let me know what you think!

important -

in this fic, the crew play pool (or billiard) but i am australian and to avoid confusion (because we probably play it differently / wrong, and i am not a professional lol) here are some notes:

the balls with the band of colour (more white) are called ‘bigs’ and the full colour balls are called ‘smalls’

you get a second shot if you sink one of your own balls

your opponent gets two shots if you sink the white ball

word count: 5363 (oops)

“Shit,” you snatch your hand away from the machinery in front of you, shaking it as if the movement would rid you of the hot stinging sensation spreading through your fingers. You look at your gloves and curse again, finding all four of the material fingertips burnt through.

“Are you okay?” Clarke, one of the newer lieutenants on board, asks as he approaches your workbench. He’s very handsome, with sandy blond hair and bright green eyes, there were five people in this room alone that would sell a kidney for just one date with him. You, on the other hand, had forgotten about his existence less than ten seconds after he handed you the tool you’d asked for this morning.

You snatch the gloves off and stare at the hot pink flesh of your fingers, “Fine, just frustrated.”

He gingerly grabs your hand, turning it toward himself, “come over here, you need cold water.”

He tows you toward the large trough across the lab, where a spread of tools and parts were waiting to be washed or drying out on the nearby benchtops. You spot a small square contained with several labels reading ‘KEENSER’S LUNCH – DO NOT EAT’ in a variety of languages, and you can’t help but giggle. The little alien was yet to find out that it was best friend Mr. Scott always stealing his food.

Clarke turns on the faucet and checks that the water is cool before pulling your hand under it. You only realise then how close you are to him, and that his eyes aren’t just green but have little flecks of gold in them, and that there are several sets of eyes glaring at you from across the room.

“Thanks,” you say, though you can’t help acknowledging the fact that you were more than capable of doing this by yourself.

“I’m no doctor,” he chuckles softly, “but you should probably go to MedBay.”

Your heart feels like it flips in your chest, sending a woozy amount of blood to your head and undoubtedly turning your cheeks pink. “I-I think I’m good, but thanks again.” You pull your hand away and dry it gently on the front of your uniform.

“What’ve ya done now’?” Scotty asks, walking toward you with a comical amount of greasy fluid smeared across his face.

“Nothing, just accidentally-”

“Touched a soldering iron,” Clarke interrupts, and though you know it’s out of concern you can’t help the indignant scowl that settles between your brows.

“I’m fine,” you say.

Scotty glances at your hand, and instead of expressing concern his lips curl into a cheeky grin, “think ya need to go to MedBay, angel.”

From the corner of your eye, you see Clarke do double-take at the affectionate nickname.

“No, I’m fine,” you repeat.

“I can take her?” the lieutenant offers, at which your frown deepens.

“Can I just go back to my quarters?” you ask Scotty, “I just need a plaster.”

Scotty nods, “it’s well past ya finish time anyway.”

You smile politely at Clarke before turning back to your workstation and haphazardly untying your apron with one hand. Scotty begins packing up your tools before you can, and you know it’s his way of showing concern, but you still frown.

“I’ll see ya later, then?” he says as you turn to exit.

“Tonight?”

“Game night,” he replies, “the capt’n got that old pool table in workin’ order, remember?”

You vaguely remember being cornered by Jim yesterday afternoon after yet another lengthy shift, and being ordered to attend a night of drinks and shenanigans since the ship was going to be in friendly space for the next few days.

“Right, uh, do you know who else is coming?” you ask.

Scotty’s grin returns, “the usual.”

You narrow your eyes and open your mouth to demand he elaborate when Clarke cuts you off, “did you say a pool table? I love that game, my dad had one when I was little.”

“Oh, then you should come along lieutenant,” Scotty says, “the more the merrier.”

Your head aches with the effort that it takes not to roll your eyes. “Great,” you say, “then I’ll see you both later, now if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower.”

You reach the turbolift and step inside, thanking the universe for its speed when you arrive on the upper-most floor containing crew quarters in less than a few seconds. The familiar corridor leads you to your room, where you sigh dramatically as you kick off your shoes and wrestle out of your red shirt. Your hand stings when you step under the hot water of the shower, so you have to hold it out while you awkwardly wash your hair and body. Sitting on your bed in only a towel, you rummage through your personal medical kit for some plasters to wrap your fingers. You try desperately to recall even an ounce of your first aid training but unfortunately, there was always one huge distraction that prevented you from ever learning anything when it came to medical training. A distraction that happened to be the very doctor who was attempting to teach you.

You lay in your towel for longer than necessary, flipping through data on your PADD and absently watching the time until you decide to get dressed. Eventually you pull on a pair of denim shorts and an old Starfleet Academy shirt before snatching a hair tie from the table beside your bed and slipping into your sneakers. The crew commons are located only two floors above you, where the rec rooms resides behind the huge cafeteria and kitchen. You can hear the sounds of laughter and conversation before you even reach the end of the corridor.

“Look who finally decided to join us!” Jim exclaims the second he spots you; his steps are unsteady and his grin is wide, he’s already very tipsy.

“Hey Captain,” you giggle, “you look merry.”

Nyota bounds toward you and wraps her arms around your neck, “oh, thank goodness you’re here, I’m losing.”

Behind her you can see the pool table situated between the bar and a cluster of low, blue sofas. “Nyota Uhura losing a game? That’s unheard of.”

“I know,” she gasps, handing you a drink, “now catch up and let’s kick some butt.”

Before you can take a sip, Jim hands you a small glass of clear liquid, “first, you have to do a shot, it’s a rule.”

You roll your eyes before swigging from the little glass. It burns your tongue and the back of your throat, spreading a fire through your chest as it descends to your stomach. “Holy shit, what is that?”

He chuckles, “no idea, something Chekov picked up a few planets ago.”

You cringe and down half the bottle of your drink in an attempt to quell the burn.

“Y/N!”

You tip the bottle back down and find Clarke standing right where Nyota had been. “Hey,” your voice is raspy, still recovering from the shot.

He chuckles, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, that was just-”

“I know, the captain made us all do one when we got here.”

Jim grins and smacks a hand on Clarke’s shoulder, “you didn’t tell me you were making friends down in the engine room, angel.”

You roll your eyes once again and swap your now empty bottle with the full one in Jim’s hand, “maybe you should stop talking before I stick a pool cue up your ass, Captain.”

His eyes narrow at your sweet smile, “we’ll see who ends up with a pool cue up their ass tonight.”

“Gross,” you giggle as he turns around, and you follow him toward the pool table with Clarke in tow.

Sulu, Scotty, and Keenser are surrounding the table, arguing about whether or not Keenser was cheating while a couple of Nyota’s friends watch in amusement. Chekov is seated on one of the low sofas along with three other young lieutenants you’d only met once or twice, and Spock is standing alone by the back wall, no doubt assessing the physics of the game in front of him. Your heart practically leaps into your throat when you spot the doctor, sat on a barstool beside Spock with his arms crossed over his chest and the usual frown set between his brows.

Your feet forget how to move in coordination and you stumble forward, but Clarke is quick to catch you. His arms wrap around your shoulders and steady you before helping you upright. “Thanks,” you say, as you look up to find his green eyes much too close for the second time today.

He smiles boyishly, “you’re a little accident prone, aren’t you?”

You nod and brush yourself off, glancing over his shoulder at the stool beside Spock, now empty.

“Come on, angel, stop flirting and let’s play,” Jim calls, now in possession of the pool cue Sulu had been holding.

Keenser hands you the other cue when you reach the table, before turning back to Scotty and launching right back into their argument.

“Hey,” Clarke says, still beside you, “I’ve been meaning to ask, why does everyone keep calling you angel?”

Sulu stops in his pursuit to the bar, with a wide grin stretched across his lips “because have you ever seen anyone who looks more like they fell from heaven? She’s gorgeous.” He stops to kiss your cheek and take the empty bottle from your hand. “Another?”

You nod, “thanks, Sulu.”

“Well, that is true,” Clarke’s cheeks turn a pale shade of pink, “you are gorgeous.”

Unsure of what to say you simply smile and step up to the table, watching Jim arrange the balls inside the plastic triangle. “Are you sure you know how to play, angel?” he smirks.

“Are you sure you know how to play, Captain?”

He lines the white ball up with the chalk marker and gestures to you, “ladies first.”

You poke your tongue out at him before taking your stance and leaning over the table. As you place your hand on the felt to line up the cue, pain ripples through your fingers and you can’t help but cringe.

“Are you okay?” Clarke asks again, and you begin to wonder if those were his first words.

“I’m fine.” You regain your focus and bite your cheek to ignore the pain in your fingers, and when you draw the cue back to take the shot, you notice blood seeping through the plasters. Oops.

Despite your injury, you break the triangle perfectly and the balls scatter across the table. One finds its way into the corner pocket, eliciting a cheer from your audience of crewmates and a little squeal from yourself.

“Suck it, Kirk,” you move around the table, “smalls are mine.”

You position yourself for the next shot, stretching onto your toes and leaning halfway across the table in order to properly reach the white ball. You draw the cue back just as a figure steps into view on the other side of the table, your heart leaps once again and your aim falters. The cue hits the ball way off centre and sends it wobbling across the green felt. “Damn it.”

Jim chuckles, “what happened, angel? Your first shot was so good!” His eyes dart from you, to the doctor, and back.

“You suck,” you say, stepping back and holding the cue upright.

With everyone watching Jim’s move intently, you take the chance to glance at your fingers. Pain is pulsing steadily through your hand, nothing excruciating but certainly uncomfortable, and blood blots the white plasters.

Clarke moves to your side once again, “do you need to go to MedBay, or we can ask Dr-”

“Seriously, Clarke, I’m fine,” you say, “I don’t want to bug Dr. McCoy on his night off.” You look over at the man in question, his expression grumpier than usual as his eyes bore into you, but the moment you meet his gaze he looks away. In fact, he turns his entire body and moves toward Spock, who is standing quietly beside Nyota.

“You’re up,” Jim says, drawing your attention back to the game.

You struggle to focus on your shot, your mind replaying the doctor’s face over and over, and wondering why he could possibly be angry with you. It was strange that he hadn’t come to see you yet, to talk to you, it has been a while since you’ve all hung out together like this and you miss him.

You take your shot and somehow sink a ball, and on your second shot you manage to position the white ball in the most inconvenient place for Jim. “I think I may have underestimated you,” he says as he steps forward, wearing a smirk.

After offering Jim a brief but cheeky grin, you decide to make the first move with Leonard. Not in that way, though you did wish you could, but you decide to approach him first and find out if he really is angry with you and if so, what the hell did you do.

You first retrieve two drinks from the bar before sliding up beside him, once again seated in the bar stool beside Spock. “Hey McCoy, thirsty?”

Relief washes over you in a big hot wave when he looks up and his expression breaks into a grin. You’re positive your cheeks have turned beet red, but you don’t care, Leonard McCoy is grinning at you as if you’re the sole reason for his happiness and that’s enough to make you dizzy. Could you imagine if you actually did kiss this man, or sleep with him? You’d probably going into cardiac arrest. Good thing he’s a doctor.

“Hey, angel,” the nickname from his lips is so different than from anyone else’s, and it makes your heart thump even louder in your ears. He takes the drink from your hand and his fingers brush yours, making you wince. His face falls, immediately wondering if he had done something more than take an offered drink or if you were just uncomfortable with his touch – which hurts to think –, but then he notices your plaster-wrapped fingers.

“Y/N,” his voice is a warning, and the fact that he’s using your real name is enough to make you cower... and turn you on a little bit, but that’s something to unpack later.

You hide your injured hand behind your back, “Doctor.”

He stands from the stool and easily towers over you as you begin retreating toward the pool table. “What did you do to your hand?”

At that moment you hear your name called from behind and thank the universe for its timing. “Nothing, Doctor,” you reply, “now if you’ll excuse me.”

You turn quickly and begin hurriedly assessing the arrangement on the table before electing to stay on the side of the table with your back to the grumpy doctor. You bend over and try not to cringe when you position your injured hand on the felt, but the pain is only brief before you realise that you’re fully bent over right in front of Leonard. You’ve dreamt about this more times than you care to admit.

Deciding that you’ve already dug your grave, you might as well lie in it too, you arch your back and stretch a little further, feeling your shorts ride up your thighs. You draw the cue back and take the shot, sending one of your balls and one of Jim’s sailing into opposite corner pockets.

Jim chuckles, “thanks for that, angel.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, as you step around the table.

You can see Leonard now, and his face is a mask of practiced calm, but you know him too well to believe it. That man is undoubtedly flustered. You try not to giggle audibly as you lean down to take your second shot, but the distracting doctor clouds your mind and your aim is completely ruined. The white ball sails across the table without hitting a single other ball.

“Fuck!” you exclaim, at which everyone laughs.

Jim smirks, “what’s wrong, Y/N? Distracted?”

It takes all of your self-control not to throw the pool cue javelin-style across the table. “Get on with it, Kirk.”

You want to talk to Leonard again, but you can feel the plasters on your fingers growing damp with blood. He was always weird when you got injured, almost panicky despite being a doctor who deals with literal catastrophes on almost a daily basis. You didn’t doubt he would shred you for hurting yourself and not going straight to MedBay, though in your defence you definitely didn’t think the burns were bad enough to blister and bleed.

“Did you want a few pointers?” Clarke asks, almost startling you with how suddenly he’d appeared beside you.

You frown, “with what?”

“The game,” he gestures toward the pool table.

“Oh, uh,” the lieutenant looks like a puppy dog, with wide eyes and a small pout, practically begging you to find him attractive. There are two women across the room wearing matching piercing glares, and you can’t help feeling obliged to accept his help. “Sure.”

He beams with self-confidence and follows you around the table as Jim announces that it’s once again your turn. Thankfully, most of the group has begun to lose interest in the game, settling back into the sofas or going to retrieve more drinks. You can even see Chekov and Sulu playing an intense game of Jenga at the bar.

“Okay, so you want to get a little lower, get your eyes in line with the shot,” Clarke says in your ear, and you start to wonder if this man has any sense of personal space. “Relax a little, you shouldn’t have to arch your back so much.”

You can’t stop yourself from giggling as it bubbles up, but Clarke pays no mind as he practically smothers you with his body to ‘help’ your game.

“Come on, angel,” Jim chuckles, “stop flirting and get on with it.”

Your head snaps toward him and if looks could kill, Jim would be a pile of ash on the ground. At the same time you look toward your captain, Clarke moves your arm to take the shot, since he’s practically controlling your body right now. The aim is way off with you once again distracted, and the white ball haphazardly knocks into a few other balls before sinking into a pocket itself.

You stand abruptly and take several steps away from Clarke. “Damn you, Jim, that’s completely your fault,” you say, pointing at the table.

“Hey,” he puts one hand up in surrender while the other holds his drink, “there were two people controlling that shot and neither of them were me.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Clarke says, “I didn’t realise you weren’t ready, that’s totally my fault.”

You wave a hand, “don’t worry about it.”

Eager to shake the lieutenant you rush to the bar to get another drink, where you coincidentally find your favourite doctor. “Bones,” you greet him again, holding your injured hand behind your back.

He nods, handing you a bottle before taking an unnecessarily large step back, “so- uh, you and that lieutenant, huh? Jim didn’t tell me you were seeing someone.”

You begin shaking your head before he’s even finished his sentence, “no, no, I- um, I’m not dating that guy, at all. Actually, I barely know him, he just started kind of following me around today, and it’s really weird but I’m too polite to tell him to leave me alone, that’s it.”

Bones frowns, “oh, well- I mean, it’s not really any of my business, so you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“Oh,” you nod once, “noted, sorry.”

His words weren’t cruel but you couldn’t help from hearing a bitter undertone. Something about the way he spoke made you feel stupid, and almost irrelevant, like he asked you a question just to be polite and there you were ranting and raving like an oversharing child.

“Wait, Y/N, I didn’t-” his words are cut short, but by what you don’t know as you were already halfway back to the pool table and halfway through the drink you’d only just received.

Jim quickly notices your frown and stops you before you can get to where the white ball is. “Are you okay? What did he say to you?” he asks.

“Nothing, I was just rambling,” you reply, “and I could tell he was getting annoyed so I left him alone.” You wave your hand dismissively, which somehow actually gets Jim to shut up, because he freezes mid-thought and doesn’t move to stop you from walking past.

You drain the rest of the bottle in your hand and discard it on a nearby table before getting ready for your shot. You lean over the table and rest the cue on your hand, the slight amount of alcohol you’ve consumed is only making your aim a little wonky, but you confidently draw the cue and strike the white ball. Shockingly, two of your own balls manage to find the same pocket and sink with a satisfying clunk.

“Did you see that?” you exclaim, turning to Jim only to find him staring blankly at the tabletop. “Are you absolutely stunned at my incredibly skills?”

“Damnit, Y/N,” Leonard says, startling you as he appears beside you and grabs your hand.

You wince as the sting from the pressure and movement ripples up your arm, and only then do you notice that the plasters are completely soaked with blood. “Oh,” you frown and inspect your hand, “that’s weird.”

“What the hell have you done?” he pulls your hand closer to his face and gently prods your middle finger.

You gasp, “ouch!”

The doctor’s frown deepens, and he turns to his best friend, “game’s over, she’s coming with me.”

Despite the situation, Jim still smirks, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He winks as Bones rolls his eyes and tows you out of the room.

You’re a little too scared to speak as he rushes you down the hall and into the turbolift, but as the doors slide closed you realise that he’s basically been holding your hand this whole time. You try desperately to rationalise with yourself and remind yourself that he’s a doctor and your friend, and he’s just doing his job, but the stupid butterflies in your stomach continue to flutter restlessly.

“How did you do it?” he asks, his frown finally softening.

He’s standing right beside you, touching you in several places and your brain struggles to function. “When I fell from heaven?” you ask, and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or nerves, but you start giggling.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, but you can still see a tiny smirk underneath his hand. “No, angel, I’m not hitting on you right now, I need to know how you hurt your hand.”

“You’re not hitting on me right now, but you will later?”

Bones freezes, his expression torn between frustration and amusement as he considers whether or not the alcohol is influencing your words or not. “If you tell me how you hurt yourself,” he says, “I’ll flirt with you later.”

You grin, and it almost knocks all the air out of his lungs, “promise?”

“I promise.”

The lift’s doors ease open and you recognise the familiar MedBay as Doctor McCoy leads you toward it. It’s quieter than usual and you realise then that it’s actually been a while since anything had gone wrong or blown up. Jim really is getting good and being captain.

Leonard sits you on an empty bed, a hand on each shoulder, as he drags one of the medical carts over with his foot. “Do you want anaesthetic?” he asks.

You scoff, “it’s just a burn, Doctor, I’m not going into labour.”

He chuckles as he begins to unwrap the blood soaked plasters, “so it’s a burn?”

“Yep, soldering iron.”

“Why weren’t you wearing gloves?” his frown returns, “I’m going to kill Scotty, if he-”

In your lightheaded stupor, you press your free hand to his cheek and whisper, “I was wearing gloves.”

“What? Then how did you-”

“Don’t know,” you shrug, “this stupid part has been breaking every a week for almost three months, and every time I have to fix it, it just gets more and more stubborn. It doesn’t want to fuse together.”

“What part?” he asks as he sets the bloody wraps aside.

You glance down at your hand and see nothing but swollen pink flesh and blood; if you were sober, you’d probably have passed out by now. “One of the little filtering chambers from the main deuterium pipeline.”

“Deuterium?” he repeats, angrier than before, “Damnit, Y/N.”

The next thing you know, he’s pressing you back until you’re lying on the bed. A nurse hurries over at his call and then there’s a hypo in your neck. The room starts to blur, but the doctor remains in perfect focus as you fight your heavy eyelids, willing yourself to stay awake.

“It’s okay, angel, you’ll only be out for a minute,” he brushes your hair off your face as you finally lose the fight with the anaesthesia.

Your hand still hurts when you wake up, and you have to blink a few times to get your eyes to focus. The spinning in your head hasn’t stopped and when you sit up to see the grumpy doctor, you still want to giggle. “Hey Bones,” you emphasise his nickname, and you can swear you saw his scowl falter.

“You practically poisoned yourself,” he shakes his head as he carefully packs his equipment away, “deuterium is deadly in the best of cases, but in the bloodstream? You’d have been dead in a day if you didn’t bleed out first. Did it not concern you that the blisters were bleeding? I mean, sure blisters bleed occasionally but not that much, angel.”

Your desire to giggle is dampened and you swing your legs over the side of the bed so you can shuffle closer to the doctor. “I’m sorry,” you say, “I honestly didn’t think about the deuterium contamination, which makes a lot of sense because the filtering chambers are usually one solid piece, not two halves, so whoever installed that is going to get their asshole rip-”

Bones’ laughter stops your rant, and you’re forced to marvel at just how gorgeous this man really is.

“If I knew it was serious, I would have come straight to you,” you say as he helps you off the bed. Your feet are only a little unsteady and your head still dizzy, but that you blame on the ridiculously handsome man in front of you.

“I told you it was serious,” a voice calls from the corridor, and you turn to find Clarke entering the MedBay.

“Great,” Bones mutters, dropping something metal onto the metal tray and making a loud clang before wheeling the cart away.

Clarke walks right up to you and grabs your hand, “how are you feeling?”

“Fine,” you pull your hand back, “like I’ve been telling you all night.”

He chuckles, but it’s awkward, “you’re lucky Dr. McCoy is so good at his job.”

You don’t see it, but you hear Bones scoff, and that’s when your foggy brain finally manages to put two and two together. You almost gasp, but quickly mask it with a deep breath. He’s… jealous.

“He is the single best person aboard this ship,” you say, trying to ignore the warmth pooling in your cheeks. If it wasn’t for the alcohol still coursing through your blood and probably a little of the anaesthetic, you know you’d never have the guts to be so forward.

“The single best?” Clarke asks. You almost feel sorry for the guy, attempting to remain light-hearted as if he could convince himself that the way he saw you looking at the doctor was something platonic.

“Single best,” you repeat, at which Bones can’t help but smirk.

Clarke chuckles awkwardly again before gesturing toward the turbolift, “did you want to go back? The others are still playing and I’m sure they’ll be excited to see you’ve survived.”

“I guess,” you look back at Bones, “are you coming?”

He nods, “yeah, I’ll just finish packing up here. You two go ahead.”

Clarke tugs on your hand and you reluctantly follow him into the corridor and toward the lift. The doors open and you step inside, subtly pulling your hand out of his and trying to create more of a distance between the two of you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again.

You sigh, “yes, I am. I just-” he looks like a puppy dog, and you almost feel ungrateful for what you’re about to say. “Clarke, you’re really cool, and I’m sorry if I have completely misread the situation and if what I’m about to say is totally wrong, but I’m just not into you the way you want me to be.”

His face falls, and guilt washes over you, but then the doors of the lift begin to beep angrily as you stand between them preventing them from closing.

“Y/N, I-”

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt him and step back into the corridor, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The doors close and the lift begins its ascent. You take half a second to swallow your guilt before turning around and practically running back to the MedBay. Bones is almost exactly where you left him, though instead of cleaning up the mess he’d made while helping you, he was leaning against the bench with his face in his hands and letting out a long sigh.

“Am I that exhausting?” you ask.

He startles, but a smile quickly breaks across his face when he sees you, “you scared me, angel.”

“Sorry,” you cross the room as you speak, “I just couldn’t leave you to clean up after me, it didn’t seem fair.”

He chuckles, but its short, “what about your boyfriend? I don’t want to ruin-”

“Gross, no.”

“No?” he frowns.

You shake your head, “seriously, no, he’s not my type.”

“You have a type?” his lips quirk into a smirk.

“Yep,” you’re standing beside him now, facing him and leaning your hip on the bench, “I prefer brunettes.”

He rubs a hand down his face, as if trying to wipe away his grin, “well, I’m sure there are plenty of willing brunette lieutenants down in engineering.”

“Not my type either,” you say, unabashedly studying the doctor’s profile as you stand so close.

He chuckles, properly, and it makes your stomach flip, “so lieutenants aren’t your type?”

“Not that part,” you reply, “you said ‘willing’ but my type is more unwilling. You know, the avoidant, sarcastic, grumpy type.”

He sighs again, as if it’s taking all of his strength to remain composed, but he finally turns to you and you can feel his breath on your neck as he speaks. “Is that so?”

You nod, “yep, and you know what else?”

You’re both leaning in, and the air between you is electric. “What else, angel?”

“I’m a sucker for doctors.”

That’s enough for Leonard. He closes the distance before you can take a breath and presses his mouth against yours. It’s rushed, but sweet, and your bodies snap together like two magnets. Your arms wrap around his neck as his circle your waist and squeeze, making your heart race impossibly fast. When you pull apart, reluctantly, your vision blurs and your head spins, and you realise that the only reason your still standing is thanks to Leonard.

“I’m a sucker for accident prone engineers,” he whispers.

You giggle, “is that so?”

He kisses you again, several times, before kissing each of your cheeks and moving your bodies so that he is trapping you against the bench, turning your giggles into almost uncontrollable laughter.

“Did you still want to go back to the others?” he asks, pressing his body against yours in the most delicious way.

“I can think of about ten other things we could do,” you bite your lip.

“Really?” he kisses you again, “because I can think of about a hundred.”

END.

#star trek #bones #leonard mccoy #jim kirk #karl urban #imagine #leonard mccoy x reader #one shot #bones x reader

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aerospas · 1 month

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍 ; their pet name for you ── tos characters !

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒 ; ᶜʰᵃᵖᵉˡ, ᶜʰᵉᵏᵒᵛ, ᵏᶦʳᵏ, ᵐᶜᶜᵒʸ, ʳᵃⁿᵈ, ˢᶜᵒᵗᵗʸ, ˢᵖᵒᶜᵏ, ˢᵘˡᵘ, ᵘʰᵘʳᵃ

( SWEETHEART ) sweetheart ; they'll tenderly cup your face in their hands, their thumb gently tracing the curve of your cheekbone. each glance at you feels like a stolen moment of bliss, as if the universe conspired to bring you two together. in their eyes, you are the embodiment of all things sweet and pure, a cherished gem in a world of rough stones. they'll shower you with affectionate words and gestures, their love for you pouring out in every touch and smile.

kirk, sulu

( DARLING ) darling ; it is a term that dances on their lips with an effortless grace, carrying with it a promise of warmth and tenderness. their gaze holds a depth of adoration that knows no bounds, as though you are the centre of their universe, a guiding star in their sky.

chapel, mccoy, scotty

( LOVE ) my love ; they possess an innate tenderness that envelops you like a warm embrace, their arms a sanctuary where you find solace and comfort. they lavish you with affection, expressing their devotion through every word uttered and gesture made. in their eyes, you are not just a person, but a soulmate a companion in the journey of life.

chekov, rand, spock, uhura

#headcannons #x reader headcannon #x reader headcannons #star trek #star trek the original series #star trek tos #star trek x reader #star trek the original series x reader #star trek tos x reader #christine chapel x reader #pavel chekov x reader #james kirk x reader #leonard mccoy x reader #janice rand x reader #montgomery scott x reader #spock x reader #hikaru sulu x reader #nyota uhura x reader #── eris writes

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moonlightshaiku · 9 months

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Mccoy's "Type"

Mccoy does like himself a good ole southerner, but even in the future, southerners can sometimes be a bit closed-minded.

More than anything, he wants someone he can relate to. He loves playful banter, and being able to harp on you/bicker with his partner, knowing they understand that it's all in jest.

He also won't admit it, but he finds it adorable—and hilarious—if his partner doesn't understand his southern slang. Southern slang is 100%... out there, and he understands. But his angry outburst of God-knows-what being met by furrowed brows and/or a quirked lip always help bring more humor to any situation, and helps damper the negative emotions.

He's got strong morals, but as a classic southerner, it's more of "murder's not okay but if you hurt my child/spouse/friend it is", and he appreciates someone who understands that reasoning and respects it.

All of this to say, his type is someone that just clicks. Doesn't have to be like him, just work with him. Adore and love him as he will adore and love his partner.

Every. Part. Of them.

#leonard bones mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #mccoy x reader #bones x reader #leonard mccoy x you #mccoy x you #mccoy x spock #mccoy x jim #spock x jim kirk x leonard mccoy

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space-helen · 1 year

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How TOS Kirk and McCoy would react to you being worried about their safety headcanons

Request: How would TOS kirk and Mccoy (seperate) react to you being worried about their safety? - Anon

______________________

Kirk:

- It doesn’t really cross his mind that you’re worried about his safety until he’s back from the away mission.

- When you run at him and bring him in for a crushing hug he raises his eyebrow and hugs you back, realising that you were worried.

- “I’m ok.” he’d laugh out

- He’d get rushed off to debrief and sort things out after the mission leaving you to continue to worry.

- He comes to your quarters once he’s done and can’t help feel guilty about it.

- “I’m so sorry.” are the first words that come out of his mouth.

- You assure him it’s ok but fuss over him slightly and keep asking him questions about what happened.

- He can’t help but think it’s a little cute that you were so worried about him and he breaks out in a smile.

- Teases you about it after but actually loves that you were worried (not in a sadistic way)

McCoy:

- When you start fussing over him before he goes he’s a little grumpy about it.

- “Y/N, I’ve done this a million times before. I’m going to be fine.”

- Feels bad that he shut you down about it when he’s on the away mission, you were only trying to look out for him.

- He gets a little scraped up on the mission, nothing major though.

- He can’t quite look you in the eye when he’s back, not wanting you to feel worse.

- Sincerely apologises to you for his behaviour

- Realises you were only that worried because you care so much about him.

- Brings you into an embrace “I’m sorry I downplayed your feelings. I’m sorry that I made you worry.”

Tag List: (open)

Star Trek: @heyitsaloy @angel-with-wings-castiel @starfleetimagines

#star trek x reader #star trek tos x reader #jim kirk x reader #dr mccoy x reader #captain kirk x reader #bones x reader #leonard mccoy x reader

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starryeyes2000 · 1 year

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Dating Advice: Bat Cave

Read on AO3 or FFN

Pairing: McCoy x Gender Neutral Reader

Rating: Teen, mild references to sex

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: His romantic night did not work out as McCoy so carefully planned.

Excerpt: The trio hung as right-side up bats, hooked to rafters via restraints binding their wrists, dangling three feet from the ceiling. Similar heavy ropes shackled their legs which suspended above the floor, low enough for bare toes to graze its surface, high enough to prevent easing the torment of arms and shoulders bearing all body weight.

McCoy pivoted his hips, swinging to his left. For two seconds his eyes met Kirk’s and he said, “I blame you for this.”

Continue reading on AO3 or FFN

Story Masterlist | McCoy x Reader Masterlist | Author Masterlist

Taglist: @bardic-tales @themaradaniels @meganlpie @cobe76 @sistasarah-sallysaidso @arrthurpendragon @coping-via-clint-eastwood

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darkness-and-books · 22 days

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TOS headcanon reacting to finding your nest in their quarters

Ostaran!reader (I mean the implication of nesting is kinda fem, but no pronouns or real description used for reader, so take it as you will)

Jim

Losing his mind

Like OMG, You put your nest in his room?!?!

Loves it so much

can’t believe you feel comfortable enough to put one so near his bed

tries so friggin hard not to even breathe in its direction

if you invite him to snuggle in it he will die

if you let him, he’ll start collecting you more blankets and pillows and things

like you’ll come to your new nest and find a new pile of materials near by

Spock

Honoured, but a little put off by the fact that you made it right in the doorway

Still won’t move and avoids stepping in it like the plague

will ask very kindly if you might move it to a more convenient location

would even help you to move your nest if you allow it, otherwise he’ll just read his book and let you do your thing.

the internal mushy feelings are real though

like won’t let anything happen to your nest at all

if you invite him to snuggle in your nest he will await your explicit instructions so as not to mess it up

Might start brining you little pieces for your nest that you express any interest in

Bones

Okie dokie

Doesn’t mess with it, but won’t bring it up unless you do first

it if you wait too long to bring it up he’ll look at you over the edge of the bed with a raised eyebrow as you snuggle into your nest

“Did you wanna join me?” He just shakes his head, “not what I meant,”

his words do not however match the action that is instantly plopping into the nest with you

he won’t go super out of his way to bring you more material, but he does think your nest looks a little sparse so if he sees something he thinks you’ll like he’ll get it for you.

he also definitely leaves little snacks next to your nest for you.

seriously, you accumulate a whole stash

#Ostaran #nesting #star trek #star trek tos #bones #spock #captain kirk #leonard mccoy x reader #kirk x reader #fluffy stuff #headcanon #fluff fluff fluff #spock x reader

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ensignsimp · 3 months

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Romantic TOS HCs: Kirk, Spock, McCoy

A/N: After a horrible blog explosion I've had to rewrite some of my headcanons. I hope you all enjoy it.

Prompt: Romantic TOS Kirk, Spock, McCoy w/ GN! Reader

James T. Kirk

Kirk is most definitely a hopeless romantic.

He is also the KING OF SAPPY ROMANCES.

Kirk most definitely reads those cheesy romance novels your grandma has on her nightstand.

He tries to keep things professional on the bridge, it doesn't last.

He'll give you longing looks, and endless compliments, the man is a total flirt with you on the bridge. (That and info-dumping.)

He'll give exaggerated sighs and swoon anytime you do even the bare minimum.

"Thank you, Ensign (L/N). What would we do without you?"

He'll write you little love notes and have the other Ensigns deliver them to you.

He is constantly blowing you kisses.

He even gives you the most ridiculous pet names;

"Sunshine, My Star, Sweetie"

It would be embarrassing if it wasn't so cute.

You're barely in the turbolift when he's covering you in kisses.

He's always sharing books to read with you (maybe the less goofy ones).

It's like having your own book club.

He loves head scratches and when you hold him in your arms.

He is a huge cuddler and enjoys snuggles.

He prefers to be the big spoon or to lay on your chest.

Kirk gets the cutest happy golden retriever look on his face if you give him head scratches and read to him.

S'chn T'gai Spock

When Spock falls in love, he falls hard!

He thought he should have been incapable of the feeling.

But to Vulcans' it's not just about the feeling of love, it's the subtlety of action.

He keeps things professional on the bridge. However, that doesn't stop him from consulting you any chance he gets.

He shows his love in discrete ways; long loving looks, sharing in debates and games of strategy, in addition to the ozh'esta. *Finger Embrace

He will complement you, just not in the way Kirk or McCoy would.

"I completely trust Ensign (L/N)'s judgment, they have profoundly sound logic for a human."

During slower times on the bridge, he'll write lines of poetry about you.

Though he never likes to share it.

Pet names are sadly rare but when you are alone he calls you almost anything but your name.

"Ashal-veh, t'nash-veh, t'hy'la"

He doesn't protest you using pet names for him while working together.

He likes to hold your hand by wrapping his pinky around yours.

He'll teach you how to play the Vulcan Harp if you're interested.

Totally not so he can have you sit in his lap and caress your hands.

He loves it when you caress his face and run your fingers through his hair.

If you just hold his face in your hands and look into his eyes he'll turn bright green.

He enjoys cuddling and having you sleeping next to him.

He'll usually prefer the honeymoon position or have you lay on his chest.

Leonard McCoy

He's a doctor and a glucose guardian.

He never thought he'd fall in love again, but here he is.

He's very old school when it comes to his style of dating.

He keeps things professional on the surface but you can tell he favors you more.

It doesn't matter what is going on, he'll always make time for you.

He isn't the best when it comes to frequent compliments but you know they're sincere.

"Ensign, you make me feel young again."

He scolds Kirk if he puts you on dangerous way missions.

He likes to keep you close by, like Spock, he's always calling you up for something.

His pet names for you are the sweetest.

"Honey, Sweetie, Darling."

He loves it when you call him things like "Doc, Hot Shot, Good Lookin'."

He likes to spend all of his off hours with you. He practically follows you around like a puppy.

Sometimes when you two are apart he likes to give you personal com messages, like back in the 20th century.

He loves to take you dancing even if he can't move as fast as he used to.

"In-quarters" dates are his favorite because he can just sit still with you in his lap.

He adores cuddling up in a big blanket and watching old movies with you.

During this time he's more openly affectionate, he likes to run his fingers through your hair and cover your face in kisses.

He prefers to have you sit in his lap, but he won't argue if you want him to sit in yours.

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sprite-writes · 1 year

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all I want for christmas (is you)

Leonard “Bones” McCoy/Reader (Original Female Character)

Summary: McCoy finds himself wrapped up in the Enterprise annual gift exchange, and for some reason, this Christmas gift feels a hell of a lot more important than just a Christmas gift.

Maybe it’s got something to do with who it’s for.

Word Count: 6,463

A/N: guys I swear this was suppose to be a 2000 word drabble for the holidays but its a whole chapter now idk, I hope you enjoy! as always special thanks to @lightning-writes

“Lieutenant, is there a reason you haven’t drawn a name yet?”

“I need to feel all the papers! That’s how you pick the best one– duh.” She swirls her hand around the bowl once more, rubbing the notes between her fingers. Spock stares patiently.

“Is there a best one to be picked? My understanding of the secret Santa tradition was to be given a random partner.”

“There sure is, and it’s... this one!” she says as she finally plucks the blue sticky note. “It was calling to me.” She unfolds the paper like it's about to self-destruct, and it reveals its neat loopy handwriting.

CMO McCoy

She blinks.

Oh. Leonard.

She blinks again.

It’s Leonard!

She laughs to herself, and Spock raises an eyebrow.

“I assume you’re happy with your choice?”

Her heart beats a little quicker. “Oh, definitely. I told you I had to feel all the papers.” She smiles and rocks on her heels.

I’m Leonards's secret Santa!

Spock nods politely and returns the bowl back to himself. “Thank you for your participation, Lieutenant. I hope your exchange goes well.”

“You too, Spock! Merry Christmas.”

She pats his shoulder and returns her gaze to the piece of paper. Spock makes his way back to his station when something settles in the pit of her stomach.

Oh god, I’m Leonards's secret Santa.

“I’m not doing a gift exchange.”

“Bones, hear me out.”

“No.”

“All the other senior officers are doing it, Even Spock!”

“And? Good for them.”

Leonard doesn’t look up from his PADD, and Kirk fitfully shakes the bowl of papers.

“What will it take for you to do this?” he pleads. Leonard halts, his eyes narrowing, and his hands folding on his desk.

“What are you offering?”

When Kirk sighs, “I mean, whatever if it’s reasonable,” he knows he’s got Kirk right where he wants him.

“You show up for your next two physicals, get up to date on your vaccines, stop flirting with Nurse Walker – then I’ll buy someone a candle or something.”

Kirk glare,s but it does nothing to deter his friend.

“ I think Walker really likes me—“

“Jim.”

“Fine! Fine, you win, just pick a name.”

The doctor rolls his eyes and plucks the first paper off the top of the pile. It’s yellow, and he hopes to god it doesn’t say Spock.

It doesn’t; its pristine sharpie work stains the paper.

Operations Manager A. Sunshine

He stares and squints, all while Kirk watches him intently. A tight, nervous feeling begins to bloom in his chest.

Sunshine. Christ.

“Well?” Kirk prompts. Leonard folds the paper again and shoves it in his uniform pocket.

“Yeah, I got it,” he waves Kirk off. “You can leave my office now. Not like I got patients to attend to or anything.”

Kirk laughs, and it’s blindingly bright.

“I’ll leave you to it, Bones. Remember - two weeks until the exchange!”

Two weeks until the exchange. God help me.

“Okay, what about a jacket? Or a sweater?”

“Nyota, we wear a uniform every day. When is he gonna wear a sweater?”

Sunshine paces back and forth on the sidewalk, chewing on her nails. They’re an hour into their recreational shore leave, with four stores under her belt, and she’s no closer to a gift.

“You want my help or not?” Nyota crosses her arms and stops Sunshine in her path.

“Sorry, I’m being mean, aren’t I?” She receives a pointed look. “I don’t mean to, I just really want this to be…”

“Perfect?” Nyota finishes.

“Perfect?” Sunshine repeats the word, rolling it over in her mouth. “No, not exactly. I just want it to be… right? I guess? I feel like there's an answer, and I’m just not seeing it.”

She sighs. The entire endeavor begins to feel a bit hopeless, and she wonders if she's doomed to just be the shittiest secret Santa the enterprise's annual gift exchange has ever seen. She imagines Leonard's face opening a sweater he’ll never wear, feigning appreciation, and her stomach flips.

Nyota locks her arm with Sunshine’s and gives her all the seriousness she would a Starfleet mission. “If there's an answer on this starbase, we’re gonna find it.”

“You think so?”

She smiles, “Not a doubt in my mind.”

“Bones, you can’t just get a woman makeup, you have to know her shade,” he plucks the tube of lipstick from Leonard's hands, whose eye twitches.

“She wears this color every day, Kirk.”

“She does?” He examines the tube. “Oh, yeah, I guess she does. Still shouldn't get it for her though, what if it’s not her brand?”

“Her brand?”

Kirk looks at Leonard like he’s a child asking perpetually asking why.

“Yes, Bones, her brand. This stuff is very elaborate.”

“Well, I don’t see you coming up with any bright ideas,” he hisses, shoving the lipstick back into its holder like it offended him. Kirk shrugs.

Leonard wants to scream. From the moment he unwrapped that damn yellow paper he knew this would be a disaster. Why couldn't he have gotten Chapel? Or Sulu? Or Chekov? Or even Kirk? Instead, he gets Sunshine, who he can't bear to disappoint with the candle that's been sitting in his bedside drawer since two Christmases ago. She deserves more, a lot more… he just has no idea what more looks like.

“This is impossible.” he concedes, his hope having run dry after four stores and three makeup departments.

“It is not, we just need to get creative. I think you’re looking at this wrong, Bones,” Kirk begins to weave his way through the retail-maze. “You’ve got to think more… Sunshine. Not just some generic Christmas gift.”

Kirk's words make their way around his head, and unfortunately, he has a great point. Perhaps, maybe, there is a tiny chance that he was carried away by the daunting expectation of what a holiday gift should be. The answer is staring him in the face now - he isn’t getting a Christmas gift, he is getting a Sunshine gift. This, he could work with.

“You might be onto something, Jim.” He snaps his fingers. “With me–I’ve got an idea.”

Sunshine has always been partial to mint chocolate chip, and it's not like there's much of it in space. So, the cone in her hand is indeed a necessity and not a distraction.

“No more pit stops after this,” Nyota says, sweet yet stern, as she holds the door open for Sunshine.

“I completely agree, so quit trying to get us sidetracked,” she quips and takes a long lick of her mint chip.

Ever the patient one, Nyota rolls her eyes with a smile. “So sorry, Lieutenant. I'll try to stay on task.”

Sunshine laughs, links their arms, and they walk down the strip. The impending sugar rush raises her spirits, and she is more than ready for the next bout of stores.

“Okay, so I'm thinking we stop up here and try--”

“Oh, look, It's Jim and Leonard,” Nyota says casually, and nervousness shoots through Sunshine.

“It's what!?” Sunshine hisses, her head shooting left and right for a store to dive into. It’s too late, Jim is already waving, and nudging Leonard, who does his polite little half-wave—awww.

“Shit, it’s too late, we were seen,” she sucks in a breath. “Okay, okay, act natural, Nyota. Don’t give anything away!”

She lobs the rest of her ice cream in the nearest trash, straightens her clothes, and skirts backward until her back is against the nearest wall. She has just enough time to pull Nyota next to her and prop her foot against the wall before the pair approach—and just like that, she’s as natural as ever.

“Hello boys,” she hums. She doesn’t even spare them a glance at first, choosing to stare at her nails, and be incredibly casual. She’s met with silence and the prickling feeling of someone staring at her.

They all are.

“Er—hi, Sunshine,” Kirk says slowly, like it's a question. She inches her gaze away from her hand. Kirk has that crease between his brows that he gets when he’s thinking, and Leonards's arms are crossed over his chest, and suddenly this interaction is anything but natural. She plants her foot back on the ground.

“Everythin’ alright?” Leonard asks, in his concerned doctor voice that she knows all too well. She prays the interaction is salvageable.

“Of course it is, everything is normal, as it usually is – right, Nyota?” She juts her elbow into her friend's side, who does not take the gesture kindly. With a hard glare, Nyota nods.

“Just enjoying the day off,” she says tightly, and Sunshine envies her talent for socializing.

There's a suffocatingly awkward pause, where Sunshine sweats and looks at anything other than Leonard – who, in turn, stares at her like he’s trying to solve a math problem.

“Well, uh, we should get back to it, I guess,” Kirk breaks the silence, still confused as ever.

“Yeah! Yeah, of course, us too,” she blurts, and pushes herself off of the wall, “Have fun! Be safe! See you at work!” And with that, she's locking her arm with Nyota once more and hauling ass away from the two. She walks so fast, they’re out of earshot in seconds.

“You know that went terribly, right?” Nyota says flatly.

“I do, and I’m willing to take some of the blame.”

“Some?”

“Most of the blame, maybe,” Sunshine cringes. “It really was that bad, wasn’t it?”

She knows the answer already, but instead of a hearty yes, Nyota bursts into laughter, and keeps laughing until Sunshine joins her.

“It was terrible, awful,” she says, trying to catch her breath. “You’ve really got it bad, huh?”

Sunshine giggles, and leans on her friend. “Ha, got what bad?”

Nyota pauses, curiously observing her friend's seriousness. “Nothing. Here, I’ve heard good things about this store.”

Leonard stares at Sunshine's back as she retreats, thinking about what the hell he just watched unfold.

“Any idea what that was?” Kirk asks, his head tilted so far, he could hurt his neck.

“Not a damn clue.”

Another hour passes, and Sunshine is close to hysterics, and the shopkeeper is hearing all about it.

“So, I pick the name out of the bowl,” she brandishes the crumpled blue paper, “and I’m like, ‘oh, perfect’ because, like I said, we’re great friends, like super close, but now, I actually have to get the gift. And it’s impossible! Everything is too ordinary or not thoughtful enough or just useless! We’ve been at this for hours, and I’m at my wits end here.” Sunshine’s legs swing from her place perched on the countertop.

“So, this friend of yours,” the assistant manager, Tina, begins, “he doesn’t have any hobbies? Or interests?” Customers pass, and Sunshine sighs.

“Hobbies? Not really. I mean, all we do is work, and he works a lot– did I mention he’s CMO? Yeah, I mean, he’s passionate about his work! He loves being a doctor, he acts all jaded about it, but he’s actually a huge softie, loves helping people.” She pauses and sucks in a breath, while Tina nods like she’s keeping up. “He doesn’t love doing it in space, though. That’s what he’s mostly jaded about. I mean, he did his dissertation in med school on deep space diseases, so it makes sense but –”

“Well, where’s he from?” Tina interrupts.

“Oh, he’s from Earth; I am too.” Sunshine points to Nyota, who is rifling through the cologne section in her stead, “So is my friend.”

“You know, there’s a little earth-themed shop just around the corner…”

This piques Sunshine’s interest, and it fills her with hope.

“Earth-themed?” she repeats. Tina nods while she restocks the shelf behind the counter.

“It’s an antique shop; they have trinkets from everywhere but mostly earth. Maybe you’ll find something there?”

Sunshine grins, and she feels a weight being lifted off her chest. “Tina, you’re a godsend, thank you so much,” she hops off the counter with renewed vigor. “C’mon, Nyota! I think we’ve got our answer!” Nyota is halfway through the stack of samples in her hand when she’s rushed out of the store. She fleetingly wonders why she puts up with this.

—

Leonard barely looks up from his PADD the entire way back to the ship. It takes Kirk, attached to his side, to weave him through crowds and assure no accidents or injuries. The enterprise is quiet upon arriving, and Kirk is ushered into Leonard's office.

“Alright! Game time, Bones, tell me whatcha got,” Kirk claps his hand on Leonard’s shoulder—it reminds him of a high school football coach.

“Right, we’re gonna need to abuse your authority. “

“…for a Christmas gift?”

Leonard rifles through his drawers.

“Well, what else would it be for? Listen, go ask the head nurse–should be Nurse Bennet– tell her you need access to the medical imaging equipment, and grab the camera in Drawer B, got it?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess?”

Leonard shoos him out of the room. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he uses the moment of solitude to clear his head.

He really hopes this isn't a stupid idea.

—

In the antique store, Sunshine elects to not sit on any of the countertops.

The entire place seems fragile to her, with shelves lined high with old-world things she didn't recognize and floors littered with boxes. It was eclectic, to say the least. To say the most, it was downright cramped. And tiny.

Definitely no countertop sitting for her.

Her eyes trail across the room, and she gets an odd nostalgic feeling, like she isn’t quite in space anymore. It feels like her mom's old house. The feeling sweeps her up like a hug, and she almost forgets why she’s there as her eyes roam. Nyota recenters her with a nudge and points to the back of the store.

“Hello!” Sunshine calls and catches the attention of the man behind the register. He’s older, with deep smile lines, and an overly large coat. He looks kind, she thinks. He waves in return for her hello.

Nyota slips between two shelves, already scouring for ideas, while Sunshine approaches the shopkeep.

“Somethin’ I can do for you?” he asks, his accent familiar, and strikes her with a sudden longing feeling.

“If it's not too much trouble, I really need some help finding a gift for my friend,”she says, uncharacteristically beginning to feel shy. “And there's a bit of a story to it too, if you have the time.”

He stares at her curiously, and she hopes she hasn't overstepped.

“Sure.” He shrugs.

He gestures for her to come around the counter, and she can see a wooden chair peeking from behind it. She accepts his invitation and makes herself comfortable in the old-looking wooden rocking chair. Dust flies from it when she sits. He continues counting the register and waits for her to begin.

“So,” she fiddles with the blue sticky note that has lost its stickiness, “I joined Starfleet like, a little over a year ago, and there's this Doctor…”

—

The captain clears his throat and clears it again, running a hand through his hair because he’s just not sure what to say.

“So, I gathered you both here for a reason, which is very important… but I also cannot provide much information about why it’s important - very… classified stuff, but I assure you-”

Leonard is too impatient for his own good, and he’s rolling his eyes and grumbling mere seconds into the captain's fake speech.

“I’ll take it from here, Jim,” he interjects, “I can’t watch you flounder like a fish out of water anymore.”

The captain's patience wavers, but Leonard takes no mind to this.

“Henly, Donavan, stand next to each other and smile. We’re doing a Starfleet scrapbook or something,” he says, voice filled to the brim with sarcasm. He brings the camera to his face, and the two girls look at one another with confused, pinched faces.

“We don't have all day, Ensigns,” he mumbles. Henley and Donavan turn their confused frowns into tentative smiles, and he snaps the picture. He throws a thumbs up their way.

“Great. You’re dismissed.” Leonard turns around, sights set on their next stop already. Kirk, however, scrambles to leave this interaction on a politer note.

Kirk calls, “What he means is thank you so much for participating ladies, and you look great by the way, can’t wait for you to see the scrapbook!” but they were already retreating, whispering and giggling to one another. He sighs.

“So, now that I’ve abused my authority for the sake of a Christmas gift, do I get to know what the gift is?” he demands.

“We’re not done abusing your authority, just so you’re aware,” Leonard says pointedly, “and fine, but we walk and talk.”

That’s fine with Jim, he’ll walk wherever, talk to whoever, if he finally gets to know what’s going on.

“One year, for Pam and I’s anniversary, she got me this holoframe, piled high with a bunch of pictures of us. The thing’d flip through them all day, like a highlight reel while our marriage fell apart.” Leonard stays five steps ahead and doesn’t look back at Kirk. It’s an odd place to be vulnerable, the enterprise hallways, and Kirk has no idea how this fits into anything.

“Okay…”

“I hated the damn thing. Not the sentimental type, but what you said, about getting a more, Sunshine gift, somethin’ clicked,” he snaps his fingers. “Can’t think of anything she likes more than the crew, and I’ll go out on a limb and say she’s the sentimental type.”

Kirk pauses thoughtfully and suddenly feels touched by the gesture that isn't even for him.

“So, we are making a Starfleet scrapbook? But of all Sunshine's favorite people?”

“Do not go around saying we’re making a scrapbook like we’re a couple of grade schoolers.”

Kirk catches up with his friend with a newfound dedication to this endeavor.

“Sorry, holoframe,” he grins.

—

Sunshine and Nyota are both perched behind the shop counter now. Sunshine slumped down into the rocking chair, Nyota rested on the arm of it.

“...after I told Tina all of this, she sent me here and said maybe you could help—oh, well, actually, she never said that, I just sort of roped you into this on my own accord, sorry about that– but, on the way here, I wrote down this list of facts about Leonard to maybe help find him something?” She pulls out a crumpled receipt with sharpie on the back.

“You brought…a list?” the shopkeep drawls, and it makes her blush.

“Yeah it’s—I thought it might help,” she says sheepishly.

“She is very prepared,” Nyota supplies with a comforting pat on her shoulder.

“Alright, then let's see it.” He holds out his hand, and she lays the receipt flat on his palm. It feels like she's handing something over much more important than the record of her ice cream purchase, but she doesn't put her finger on why.

She waits as the man reads, and she rocks in the chair. She thinks about what a whirlwind of a day it's been but still feels at ease.

“He’s from Georgia?” the shopkeep finally says. She perks up.

“Yeah! He’s, like, a country boy,” she cringes. “Well, like, he's from the country, he grew up on a farm, I just don't know what the actual word for it is.”

Thankfully, the man just chuckles and doesn’t correct her. It's a win in her book.

“He ever miss home?” he asks, eyes still on the paper.

“Oh, only all the time,” she scoffs, “ he’s really not a fan of space.” She buzzes with excitement— she can tell he’s onto something. When he finally speaks, Sunshine has to restrain herself from leaping up and hugging him right there in the store.

“Yeah, I think I got a few things he’d be interested in… Georgians ought to help each other out anyways.”

—

Three fake emergencies and six photos later, both men are exhausted.

Leonard hopes no one enters the rec room for the next hour. He fears the image of him and the captain sprawled on the couch looking through photos of various crew members may be hard to explain.

“Are we done now? Please tell me we’re done.” Kirk shifts, really he wiggles, to prop his feet on the chair beside him. Leonard fiddles with the camera as he replies.

“Just waiting for Uhura to be back from shopping, and that should be it.” Kirk sighs and sinks lower into the couch. Since starting this whole thing, Leonard's anxiety has grown steadily, like a snowball rolling down a hill. Aside from the task of wrangling crew members, and then inventing explanations for his actions, the real challenge is convincing himself that this is even a good idea in the first place. He thinks about that tube of lipstick, and if it was her brand, and wishes this whole thing could be simpler.

“Do you think Spock’s still mad?” Kirk asks, and Leonard barely hears it over his own thoughts.

“He’s forgiven you for a lot worse, I wouldn't get too wound up about it,” he replies absently, hands still fidgeting. “Y’know, Jim, I appreciate you running all over hell's half acre for me. God knows you didn't have to.”

“Bones, I have no idea what that means, but you’re welcome.” His friend smiles, and it quells some deep nervousness. “Totally gonna be worth it, anyway,” Kirk adds.

Leonard isn’t all that sure what he means, but still, he agrees.

“Yeah, I think it will.”

Leonard doesn't see the smirk on Kirk’s face, nor does he pick up on the mischievous cadence of his voice, or even the way they're on completely different pages. Kirk thinks perhaps that's for the best.

—

The gift sits on her desk for three days before she wraps it.

She carefully maneuvers her work around it, avoiding touching the object like it was some precious gem. On occasion, her eyes would drift to it while she sits in her quarters, and her cheeks would heat without reason. She makes an effort not to think about it too much or get too excited, and to definitely not touch it. She finds lately that a bit of effort is required to get her mind off of many things related to the CMO, and it takes even more effort not to think about why that was.

She wraps the gift on the day of the exchange—because it's the easiest way to avoid thinking about it.

—

Leonard gets the damn thing out of his sight as soon as possible.

The gift had been finished – pictures uploaded, running on a ten-second loop – hidden away in a gift bag, out of sight out of mind. He is protecting his peace—leaving it out in the open will only restart the cycle of doubt in his head. So, he pulls doubles, up until the holiday party, if only just to get his goddamn mind off of this stupid exchange he shouldn’t have ever done in the first place—

He works until Chapel won't let him in the medbay anymore, and when she doesn't, he slots his time with other tasks. Hell, he even wonders if he should’ve gone back for the lipstick, the day after they leave the port. He goes as far as to bother Nyota about it, who waves him off and tells him she's sure Sunshine will love her gift—her reassurance helps more than he anticipated.

He almost gets himself to forget the whole thing, lost in the medbay chaos, until he feels the scrap paper crushed in his pocket.

The gift stays hidden away until just a few minutes before he has to meet her, and his palms sweat when he picks it up.

—

Lieutenant Jameson calls out the day of the holiday party— Dakitoan Flu.

Without much choice, Sunshine takes his rounds. She doesn’t think she’s ever completed a task faster in her life. Complete is even a strong word—it's more like half-ass. She’s all too aware of how she’ll have to repeat most of the work again tomorrow, correcting her own mistakes. But she doesn't care. She’s been stressing out about this party for two entire weeks, she’d be damned if she misses it.

When she does finally rush to the rec room, the blue-wrapped gift in hand, there are few people left, and her heart sinks a bit.

There's a Christmas tree in the corner of the room, with only one present left beneath it, and a few red and green ribbons are strewn about. She spots Spock first, already wiping down tables and cleaning up the festivities. He catches her eye, and he must see how her posture is wound tight with nervousness—or her pink cheeks, or her frazzled hair, or the way she obviously ran here. Spock doesn’t quite smile, but his gaze softens in some way she doesn’t see often, and he nods toward a table in the far corner. She follows, and—

Oh! It’s Leonard!

Spock gets a double thumbs up for his help.

Leonard sits with Jim, both of them with glasses of some dark liquid in hand. She wishes she could have had a drink before this. She smoothes down her hair before she approaches.

Kirk notices her first and smiles — it reminds her how nice it is to have someone in her corner.

“Sunny! You made it!” He cheers. She grins back and lets it sink in, yeah I did make it, and the thing she’d been fussing over for weeks is finally coming to an end.

Leonard is much more reserved, he always is. He sees her, and his posture relaxes—he does that a lot. Almost like he’s holding his breath for some reason.

“Captain, Doctor,” she greets the two, still catching her breath. “I’m sorry I missed the party, you have no idea how insane my shift has been —I mean, no idea, but it's over now, and I’m so glad I caught you guys.”

“We had to convince Spock to leave the Christmas tree up until you got here, he’s been cleaning damn near since the party started,” Leonard tuts, and she laughs.

“Aw, I’m glad he did…” She looks at the pine tree, which is bare of ornaments and lights, and raises her eyebrows.

“Well, he sort of did,” Leonard amends. “It was a compromise.”

“A compromise that leaves me with putting the decorations back in storage, so I’d call it more of a trade,” Kirk complains.

“Master negotiator, huh?” she teases and has every intention of teasing him more, maybe even calling Christmas his new Kobayashi Maru, but she waits a beat too long.

“Anyways, Jim, don’t you think you should be getting to it?” Leonard says, as if the conversation didn’t just start.

Jim doesn't say anything at first, just stares at Leonard while Leonard stares at him. It’s all very… intense, she thinks. They exchange pointed looks like they’re engaged in a silent conversation– actually, she’s pretty positive they are. Awkwardness begins to prick at her skin.

“Is there something—”

“Wow, I didn't even notice the time, better get to it, just like you said,” he springs to his feet with alarming speed.

“Oh, do you have to go?” she asks with disappointment.

“I do, duty calls, or something.” He holds her by the shoulders looking at her with enough intensity to make her squint. “Have fun,” he says meaningfully, and smiles, and then, he's gone, leaving with a friendly pat on her back.

She hesitates a moment before taking Kirk's seat.

“Is he…okay?”

“That's a loaded question,” Leonard deadpans, and despite her confusion, she laughs.

“So I have something-”

“Anyways, there's this-”

Their sentences crash into each other, and they both freeze.

“You first,” she offers. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just purses his lips and avoids eye contact.

“Just—Don’t move, I’ll be right back,” he grits out and leaves her at the table. It's abrupt and leaves her wondering why this interaction is going like this. She wraps her arms around herself and waits.

Behind her, he picks up the last present left under the tree, which has been waiting there for her all day. Yellow bag with yellow paper stuffed inside. He places it on the table, and sits back down, hands wringing together. She wants to ask what's got him so worked up.

“I’m your secret… Christmas person or whatever the hell it is,” he grumbles and doesn’t meet her gaze. Not until he hears her stifle a giggle, which then bubbles into a laugh. She doesn’t mean to, but the whole thing just comes together too perfectly for her to contain herself.

“You’re my Secret Santa?” she asks, alight with excitement, and he nods at her slowly.

“Yeah, if that’s the name—” He’s cut off with another laugh, and she eagerly puts her gift in front of him—blue paper with a blue bow.

“Leonard, I’m your Secret Santa!” She beams, “We picked each other! What are the odds?”

He stares at her, then at the gift, and says quietly, bewildered, “What are the odds?”

She doesn’t catch what he means, but she’s too excited to harp on it.

“Well?” she prompts and inches the blue box towards him. “Are you gonna open it?”

Curiously enough, she’s not nearly as nervous anymore.

He blinks and shakes his head like he’s clearing his thoughts. “Yeah, yeah of course,” he says distractedly.

He opens the box carefully, it's like he’s doing an operation. When he looks down at the gift, the gift, he pauses and gets this expression that Sunshine doesn’t think she's ever seen on him.

“Len?”

“Sunshine, is this…?”

“It’s a postcard! From Georgia!” She grins, “A real one from Earth, It’s an antique.” She reaches over the table and taps on the glass of the frame in his hand. “See? There's a little stamp of authenticity. Isn’t that neat?”

Neat. It’s about the neatest thing Leonard’s ever seen.

She settles back in her seat. “I thought it might make you a little less homesick,” she adds, much quieter, as if the statement itself needed privacy.

Leonard stares at the postcard. It's got a picture of a peach orchard, on a perfect summer day, he can tell by the blossoms that line the trees. Greetings from Georgia! it reads. It looks like something he would have seen hanging in his Ma’s house. He thinks of the red door of his childhood home, and how the branches of his family's own peach tree framed it. The smell of his Ma’s cooking and the feeling of coming home— his chest fills with familiarity and longing. He stares for a while and doesn't say anything for even longer.

He doesn’t realize he’s been silent until Sunshine clears her throat. It feels like he forgot he was on the Enterprise for a moment.

“Sunshine this is…” Damn near perfect. “Nice. Thank you.” He says it and cringes. There's so many more feelings and thoughts under the surface. He wishes he could make a sentence out of them. But Sunshine, like she knows his inner thoughts, accepts the weak compliment like it's the best thing she's ever heard.

“Aw, Leonard!” She tucks her hair behind her ear and flushes – or maybe it's the lighting. “I'm so glad you like it. You have no idea the hell I put Nyota through to find it.”

He’s not sure what Nyota had to do with it, and he doesn't ask either. “I’ll thank her too then,” he says weakly, but he definitely won’t. With a deep breath to quell his nerves, he pushes her gift toward her.

“Your turn,” he says with bated breath.

Being so wrapped up in her own Christmas shopping, she almost forgot she gets a gift too. She tears through the tissue paper with the same unrestrained excitement she had picking her secret Santa just a few weeks ago.

“I still think it's so crazy we got each other, this makes the gift-giving thing like, ten times better,” she tells him. He nods curtly, and she can tell he’s wound tighter than a spring–or at least that’s how he would say it.

“Relax, Len, I’ll like whatever’s in the bag– heck, I’d like it even if you gave me a rock.”

She dives her hand into the bag, the tips of her fingers touching cool metal. At first, she has no idea what she’s looking at. A… little screen? A flat little screen with a cool blue border? She opens her mouth, a question on her tongue, when—

“The power buttons on the side,” Leonard says. He doesn’t give her a chance to move, leaning over the table and clicking the button for her.

The screen comes to life with a picture of Sulu and Chekov, both donning awkward thumbs up… and is that in Kirk’s room? She blinks, and it changes again, this time to Scotty and Keenser sitting among a mess of wires in engineering but smiling brightly nonetheless. Another second passes, and she's looking at Spock and Nyota, sitting beside each other in the rec room loveseat looking equally poised yet annoyed. Sunshine laughs before she can stop herself.

“Len is this—?” The picture flickers again, and the sight of it stops Sunshine's words in their tracks. It's Leonard and Jim, on that same rec room loveseat. Jim’s practically beaming—face lit up and an arm looped tightly around Leonard’s shoulders. Leonard, shit. He’s got that soft and reserved smile on his face—like the one he has when he talks about home or his friends, where his eyes are just filled with this warm something.

Sunshine’s face turns hot, and her chest becomes unbearably heavy with emotions.

“Leonard, this is so fucking sweet—” She cuts herself off with a wet laugh, and she realizes she’s got tears in her eyes.

Leonard, however, looks mortified, as he watches her face become red and tears fall down her cheeks.

“Shit—Damn it, I’m sorry—You weren't supposed to cry!” he stutters in a panic. Sunshine laughs again and hiccups over it with a sob.

“They’re happy tears, Len!” she insists, wiping her cheeks. “This… I think this is the nicest gift I've ever gotten.” She can’t bring herself to look away. The pictures are just the slightest bit grainy—like the camera her mom used to take pictures of her. The thought starts the waterworks all over again.

“It is?”

She sniffles, scrubbing her tears with her sleeve. As Sunshine traces the edges of the frame, and watches the photos loop again, she knows for certain this is the sweetest, most thoughtful gift she's ever gotten. She thinks about how curious it is that it's from someone she’s known only a year—a coworker, no less.

Then, she thinks, maybe, it's not all that curious at all.

“We should do this every year,” she tells him. She’s positive, actually, that, as much of a headache as this exchange has been, she would do it again in a heartbeat.

“Secret Santa?”

“Yeah, but not so…secret next time, and… just us, maybe.”

She doesn’t look at him when she says it, for both their sakes.

“Sure,” he says, and she can hear the tightness in his voice. “I’ll try not to make you cry next time.”

She laughs, “No, do it! It’s more fun that way. Maybe I’ll make you cry.”

“Uh-huh.”

He seems less nervous now, like his smile is coming a bit easier.

“We should get going before Spock sticks us with the rest of the cleaning,” he says, gathering the discarded paper from the table, “and I know you had a long day, Jameson told me you covered for him.”

She doesn’t want to leave, but she knows he’s right. She wonders if he feels the same pull to stay.

“Yeah, but it’s fine,” she tries to say casually. She leaves her chair as he does. “You know me, I don't mind.”

“Doesn’t make it a good thing, you pull about as many doubles as—”

“As you?” she interrupts cheekily, and he rolls his eyes with a smile.

“Yeah, as me.”

The paper goes in the trash, and they’re left with nothing to do but bid each other goodnight. It’s the last thing she wants to do.

“Thank you again, Len. The pictures—It’s perfect. I love it.” She tries not to cry again, mostly for his sake.

“No problem, and you too,” he tells her simply. His cheeks are still tinged pink, and seeing him hold the present she labored over in his hands, with all that warmth in his eyes, it's almost more than she can stand.

Fuck it. She thinks to herself, and before her nerves can stop her, she wraps her arms around Leonard's neck. It's an awkward angle, and she has to pull him down to her height a bit—and she’s still got the frame in her hand and everything. As far as hugs go, it's not great, but in other ways, it's perfect. Leonard doesn’t react for a moment, but finally, his arms encircle her waist, after a fair bit of hesitation.

It’s really nice, she thinks.

“No, really, thank you,” she says into his shoulder. The fabric of his uniform is soft, and she can smell his apple shampoo.

“You too, Sunshine,” he mutters. The sincerity in his voice feels nearly tangible. Leonard pats her back, maybe because he feels awkward or maybe because it's time for the hug to end; either way, she lets him go.

“Have a good night,” he says, and he can't quite meet her eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she answers softly.

They share a long parting glance, as they head in opposite directions to their quarters.

Unbeknownst to the pair, their senior officers are perched just around the corner.

“...and he knew her shade, Spock. The exact shade of lipstick she wears. He was so… dedicated to the whole thing. I half-thought he might give her a candle or a necklace or something but this?”

Spock nods thoughtfully. “She treated the exchange with similar enthusiasm, from what Nyota has told me.”

“You’re a genius for setting this thing up,” Kirk shakes his head, “even if I did have to copy Sunshine’s signature on 20 different sticky notes.”

“Well, it was your influence that caused me to—”

Kirk waves him off.

“You don’t have to justify it, Spock. Hell, everyone can see how bad they’ve got it for each other. Can’t blame you for wanting to move it along.”

“Indeed they do, Captain.”

#leonard mccoy x reader #Leonard McCoy #james t kirk #star trek #star trek alternate original series #reader insert #on a cloudy day #bones x reader #original female character #star trek imagine #Idc that they dont celebrate christmas in space #they do now #spirk

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