I don't even know, guys.
So yeah. There was this thing. A conversation regarding McCoy's pimpsuit and medallion stuff from the first ST movie. And then I thought maybe he was a pimpdoctor. And then someone *coughmrasakicough* dared me to write it. AND I FUCKING DID. WEIRD.
He’s been planet-side for three whole days, unhappily retired and still smarting from Spock’s desertion, when he has to be a doctor again.
Stumbling back to his apartment from a seedy bar in the bowels of southeast San Francisco, McCoy nearly trips over a lump on the broken sidewalk. The lump stirs and groans, and Leonard drops down to his knees beside her. “Jesus,” he whispers, the shock taking the edge off the alcohol, “what the hell happened?” He rolls her onto her side, checking her pulse and her breathing. She looks battered, and underfed, ‘underdressed,’ he adds mentally, but not permanently damaged.
“Johnny?” She asks blearily, staring up at him through unfocused eyes.
“McCoy.” He corrects, slinging her arm over his shoulder and struggling to his feet. “Doctor McCoy. And I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“No!” She jerks violently, almost wrenching herself from his grasp and he has to promise her he won’t take her to any hospitals or any cops before she stops wriggling.
“I’m taking you to my place, then.” He says stubbornly.
“Honey I’m not up to much right now.” She says, slurring slightly, allowing him to lead her down the street.
Leonard shudders and grips her tighter around the waist, helping her over a curb. “I’m gonna fix you up, and you’re gonna answer a few questions.”
“Whatever you say, Sugar.” Her head lolls against his neck, but she still manages to put one foot in front of the other until they get to his place.
***
He lays her down on his dinky little cot, brushing crumbs off the pillow and making sure her head is supported. She has enough sense to gaze cautiously at the hypo, but she’s out a few seconds later, and Leonard digs through the black bag, fully stocked with pilfered Starfleet equipment and supplies, pulling out a dermal regenerator and some vitamin supplements, along with a deep medical scanner.
He sets the provisions out neatly on top of his rickety dresser and begins the scan.
***
She wakes up close to fourteen hours later, and Leonard is ready for her panic. He presses her shoulders gently back against the mattress and tells her not to worry, he won’t hurt her.
She acquiesces, warily, and settles back against the thin pillows.
He runs a bio scanner over her, checking that the readings are satisfactory, before he helps her sit up. Shoving a tray full of lukewarm food in her direction he gestures and says gruffly, “Eat something, you’re skin and bones.”
She snorts at him, digging into the food with relish. “I’m skin and bones? Honey you’re barely bones. And apparently you can actually afford food, so don’t get all high and mighty with me.”
“I may be skinny but at least I don’t let myself get beat up and left for dead on the street. What the hell were you doing out there, anyway?”
She gives him a disappointed look. “Don’t pretend you don’t know, Sugar, feigned ignorance is not a good look on you.”
McCoy shrugged and stood, eyes raking over the flimsy strap of material keeping her torn shirt up. “I didn’t like to assume.”
She sighs, and pushes away the half-eaten tray of food. “So, speaking of my glamorous profession, Doc, what do I owe you?”
Leonard returns her disappointed look from earlier. “I find that highly insulting, madam.”
She looks momentarily taken aback, but covers it quickly. “Maybe I was speaking of credits and I’m the one who should be insulted.”
McCoy huffs a bitter laugh, “In that case I apologize and I’ll send you the bill in the mail.”
She eyes him as he hunches over the small kitchen sink, a plate in his hands, scrubbing at who-knows-how-old caked-on food. “So you’re gonna be all noble and not let me give you anything in return?”
Leonard sets the plate down and stares into the sink for a moment. Looking over at her suddenly, he says with a keen glint in his eye. “You can tell me your name. Or you can tell me the name of the bastard that did that to you.”
“My name’s whatever you want it to be and his name is Daddy. To me, anyway, so I don’t think he’d appreciate it if I sicced some waif of a doctor with a hero complex on him.”
“The guy who did this to you, he’s your…”
“Pimp, yes. It may be a dirty word, Doc, but it ain’t that hard to say.”
“And you’re gonna go back to him?”
She rolled her eyes and stood up, straightening her disheveled scraps of clothing. “If I don’t he’ll just find me again and hurt me worse.” She caught the enraged look in Leonard’s eyes, the way his fingers gripped the edge of the sink tightly. “It ain’t pretty, Doc, but it’s how things are. I appreciate your concern, and what you did for me, but there’s nothing else you can do.”
Leonard recognizes the stubbornness in her eyes and the set of her shoulders, which is why he allows her to walk out without any further argument. It’s also why he follows her a few moments later, grabbing his medical bag and slipping out the door.
***
He has to follow her at a discreet distance, and so it isn’t until the enormous brute of a man has both her skinny wrists in one fist and has a hand brought up to slap her that McCoy rounds the corner she’d disappeared behind.
“Hold it right there.” He says, his drawl sprawling thickly across the words and his swagger exaggerated as he makes his way towards them.
“This is none of your concern.” The man says, dismissing him with a cursory glance.
“Actually, as her primary physician it’s my job to preserve her physical health. You seem intent on damaging that health, and that makes this my concern.” Leonard continues to amble closer, setting his bag down and keeping one forearm pressed against his lower back, stiffening his posture.
“You’re the one who patched her up, eh?” The man deduces with a growl, dropping her wrists and pushing her away.
“I am indeed.” Leonard nods, bouncing proudly on the balls of his feet, the old familiar feel of adrenaline rushing through his system.
The man takes a lumbering step forward. The girl’s cry of “Johnny, don’t, just leave him alone!” is ignored as he reaches out to poke one massive finger into Leonard’s boney chest. “And what if I wanted her to keep those bruises as a reminder?”
Leonard glances down at the finger against his sternum, and then back up. “Well that would make you a very bad person. And I don’t take kindly to bad people.”
The man, Johnny, throws his head back and laughs. He’s got one hand’s worth of thick, meaty fingers wrapped around Leonard’s neck and his other arm cocked back for a wallop of a punch when the sharp prick in his forearm registers. Confusion flits across his features half a second before he keels backwards.
McCoy rubs absently at his neck and checks the hypo chamber. “Twice the normal dosage.” He mutters to himself, dropping his arm to the side when he hears a voice to his left.
“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“I’da left you alone if you’da given me your name, darlin’.” McCoy tells her, shrugging his shoulders and then leaning down to grab his medical bag, “Not my fault you’re so god damned stubborn.”
“I’m stubborn?”
“Yeah you’re stubborn.”
She rolls her eyes and sticks out her hand. “Layla, nice to meet ya, Doc.”
McCoy smiles obnoxiously and kisses her knuckles. “Pleased to meet you, Layla.”
“So what are you gonna do now?” she asks, once she’s taken her hand back and wiped it pointedly against her hip.
McCoy looks down at the sleeping giant. “I know a few higher-ups. I’m sure they can find him a nice rehabilitation center somewhere on the other side of the galaxy.”
“I meant with me, dumbass. You just won yourself a whore.”
McCoy looks mildly scandalized. “Lady of the night, thank you, and you’re free. I hereby release you from your duties. You can do whatever you want, now.” He flaps his hands ineffectually in her direction and turns to check Johnny’s vitals.
“I’m not a damned genie, you know; it doesn’t work like that.”
Leonard sighs and looks up at her. “Why the hell not?”
“You think I wanted to be with him?” Layla gestures at the unconscious thug McCoy is leaning over. “He was my protection. You can’t be in this line of work without protection. And now that Johnny’s been removed from the equation, you’re it, for me and all the other girls he took care of.”
“I’m not a pimp.” McCoy spits out, standing up and dusting his hands off.
“Well you better be somethin’ before you get one of us killed, asshole. He was the only thing standing between us and the more blood-thirsty clients.”
McCoy is silent for a long while, staring hard at the skinny, foul-mouthed girl before him.
“Well?” She says finally, hand on hip and eyebrow raised in an achingly familiar fashion, “What’s it gonna be, Doc?”
Just then two girls come hobbling around the corner, the shorter blonde supporting a dazed-looking lanky brunette. “Somebody hurt her real bad, Lay.” The blonde says, tugging at the arm hanging limply around her shoulders and struggling up the curb onto the sidewalk. “I think she might need a doctor.”
McCoy ignores the sidelong glance he gets from Layla as her rushes to the girls. “God damn it."
~***~
And so begins the saga of Doctor Leonard "Huggie Bear" McCoy. /facepalm
He’s been planet-side for three whole days, unhappily retired and still smarting from Spock’s desertion, when he has to be a doctor again.
Stumbling back to his apartment from a seedy bar in the bowels of southeast San Francisco, McCoy nearly trips over a lump on the broken sidewalk. The lump stirs and groans, and Leonard drops down to his knees beside her. “Jesus,” he whispers, the shock taking the edge off the alcohol, “what the hell happened?” He rolls her onto her side, checking her pulse and her breathing. She looks battered, and underfed, ‘underdressed,’ he adds mentally, but not permanently damaged.
“Johnny?” She asks blearily, staring up at him through unfocused eyes.
“McCoy.” He corrects, slinging her arm over his shoulder and struggling to his feet. “Doctor McCoy. And I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“No!” She jerks violently, almost wrenching herself from his grasp and he has to promise her he won’t take her to any hospitals or any cops before she stops wriggling.
“I’m taking you to my place, then.” He says stubbornly.
“Honey I’m not up to much right now.” She says, slurring slightly, allowing him to lead her down the street.
Leonard shudders and grips her tighter around the waist, helping her over a curb. “I’m gonna fix you up, and you’re gonna answer a few questions.”
“Whatever you say, Sugar.” Her head lolls against his neck, but she still manages to put one foot in front of the other until they get to his place.
***
He lays her down on his dinky little cot, brushing crumbs off the pillow and making sure her head is supported. She has enough sense to gaze cautiously at the hypo, but she’s out a few seconds later, and Leonard digs through the black bag, fully stocked with pilfered Starfleet equipment and supplies, pulling out a dermal regenerator and some vitamin supplements, along with a deep medical scanner.
He sets the provisions out neatly on top of his rickety dresser and begins the scan.
***
She wakes up close to fourteen hours later, and Leonard is ready for her panic. He presses her shoulders gently back against the mattress and tells her not to worry, he won’t hurt her.
She acquiesces, warily, and settles back against the thin pillows.
He runs a bio scanner over her, checking that the readings are satisfactory, before he helps her sit up. Shoving a tray full of lukewarm food in her direction he gestures and says gruffly, “Eat something, you’re skin and bones.”
She snorts at him, digging into the food with relish. “I’m skin and bones? Honey you’re barely bones. And apparently you can actually afford food, so don’t get all high and mighty with me.”
“I may be skinny but at least I don’t let myself get beat up and left for dead on the street. What the hell were you doing out there, anyway?”
She gives him a disappointed look. “Don’t pretend you don’t know, Sugar, feigned ignorance is not a good look on you.”
McCoy shrugged and stood, eyes raking over the flimsy strap of material keeping her torn shirt up. “I didn’t like to assume.”
She sighs, and pushes away the half-eaten tray of food. “So, speaking of my glamorous profession, Doc, what do I owe you?”
Leonard returns her disappointed look from earlier. “I find that highly insulting, madam.”
She looks momentarily taken aback, but covers it quickly. “Maybe I was speaking of credits and I’m the one who should be insulted.”
McCoy huffs a bitter laugh, “In that case I apologize and I’ll send you the bill in the mail.”
She eyes him as he hunches over the small kitchen sink, a plate in his hands, scrubbing at who-knows-how-old caked-on food. “So you’re gonna be all noble and not let me give you anything in return?”
Leonard sets the plate down and stares into the sink for a moment. Looking over at her suddenly, he says with a keen glint in his eye. “You can tell me your name. Or you can tell me the name of the bastard that did that to you.”
“My name’s whatever you want it to be and his name is Daddy. To me, anyway, so I don’t think he’d appreciate it if I sicced some waif of a doctor with a hero complex on him.”
“The guy who did this to you, he’s your…”
“Pimp, yes. It may be a dirty word, Doc, but it ain’t that hard to say.”
“And you’re gonna go back to him?”
She rolled her eyes and stood up, straightening her disheveled scraps of clothing. “If I don’t he’ll just find me again and hurt me worse.” She caught the enraged look in Leonard’s eyes, the way his fingers gripped the edge of the sink tightly. “It ain’t pretty, Doc, but it’s how things are. I appreciate your concern, and what you did for me, but there’s nothing else you can do.”
Leonard recognizes the stubbornness in her eyes and the set of her shoulders, which is why he allows her to walk out without any further argument. It’s also why he follows her a few moments later, grabbing his medical bag and slipping out the door.
***
He has to follow her at a discreet distance, and so it isn’t until the enormous brute of a man has both her skinny wrists in one fist and has a hand brought up to slap her that McCoy rounds the corner she’d disappeared behind.
“Hold it right there.” He says, his drawl sprawling thickly across the words and his swagger exaggerated as he makes his way towards them.
“This is none of your concern.” The man says, dismissing him with a cursory glance.
“Actually, as her primary physician it’s my job to preserve her physical health. You seem intent on damaging that health, and that makes this my concern.” Leonard continues to amble closer, setting his bag down and keeping one forearm pressed against his lower back, stiffening his posture.
“You’re the one who patched her up, eh?” The man deduces with a growl, dropping her wrists and pushing her away.
“I am indeed.” Leonard nods, bouncing proudly on the balls of his feet, the old familiar feel of adrenaline rushing through his system.
The man takes a lumbering step forward. The girl’s cry of “Johnny, don’t, just leave him alone!” is ignored as he reaches out to poke one massive finger into Leonard’s boney chest. “And what if I wanted her to keep those bruises as a reminder?”
Leonard glances down at the finger against his sternum, and then back up. “Well that would make you a very bad person. And I don’t take kindly to bad people.”
The man, Johnny, throws his head back and laughs. He’s got one hand’s worth of thick, meaty fingers wrapped around Leonard’s neck and his other arm cocked back for a wallop of a punch when the sharp prick in his forearm registers. Confusion flits across his features half a second before he keels backwards.
McCoy rubs absently at his neck and checks the hypo chamber. “Twice the normal dosage.” He mutters to himself, dropping his arm to the side when he hears a voice to his left.
“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“I’da left you alone if you’da given me your name, darlin’.” McCoy tells her, shrugging his shoulders and then leaning down to grab his medical bag, “Not my fault you’re so god damned stubborn.”
“I’m stubborn?”
“Yeah you’re stubborn.”
She rolls her eyes and sticks out her hand. “Layla, nice to meet ya, Doc.”
McCoy smiles obnoxiously and kisses her knuckles. “Pleased to meet you, Layla.”
“So what are you gonna do now?” she asks, once she’s taken her hand back and wiped it pointedly against her hip.
McCoy looks down at the sleeping giant. “I know a few higher-ups. I’m sure they can find him a nice rehabilitation center somewhere on the other side of the galaxy.”
“I meant with me, dumbass. You just won yourself a whore.”
McCoy looks mildly scandalized. “Lady of the night, thank you, and you’re free. I hereby release you from your duties. You can do whatever you want, now.” He flaps his hands ineffectually in her direction and turns to check Johnny’s vitals.
“I’m not a damned genie, you know; it doesn’t work like that.”
Leonard sighs and looks up at her. “Why the hell not?”
“You think I wanted to be with him?” Layla gestures at the unconscious thug McCoy is leaning over. “He was my protection. You can’t be in this line of work without protection. And now that Johnny’s been removed from the equation, you’re it, for me and all the other girls he took care of.”
“I’m not a pimp.” McCoy spits out, standing up and dusting his hands off.
“Well you better be somethin’ before you get one of us killed, asshole. He was the only thing standing between us and the more blood-thirsty clients.”
McCoy is silent for a long while, staring hard at the skinny, foul-mouthed girl before him.
“Well?” She says finally, hand on hip and eyebrow raised in an achingly familiar fashion, “What’s it gonna be, Doc?”
Just then two girls come hobbling around the corner, the shorter blonde supporting a dazed-looking lanky brunette. “Somebody hurt her real bad, Lay.” The blonde says, tugging at the arm hanging limply around her shoulders and struggling up the curb onto the sidewalk. “I think she might need a doctor.”
McCoy ignores the sidelong glance he gets from Layla as her rushes to the girls. “God damn it."
~***~
And so begins the saga of Doctor Leonard "Huggie Bear" McCoy. /facepalm