[McCoy's Quarters]
The doctor was a sad man.
It wasn’t just the full bar that tipped him off.
His quarters didn’t look like a home. There were signs that he lived there occasionally, but it looked more like McCoy had set this place up as a place to lay his head than a place to go home to.
On one shelves stuffed with paper books there was a picture of the doctor with a little girl in a prim white summer dress. He was crouched with one arm wrapped around her. McCoy looked into the camera, a different man from the one who left Sam here, while the girl grasped a handful of his hair and stared into the camera, eternally confused.
Sam found a small seashell on another shelf. He had never actually held a shell from Earth’s oceans. It wasn’t so different from the shells found on other planets, but he turned it in his hand and inspected every detail. It was fairly obvious why McCoy had brought the picture of the little girl, but the shell was hard to explain.
Sam put it back on the shelf, resolved to stop snooping.
Showered and dressed in a pair of shorts he’d found in McCoy’s closet, Sam curled up on the bed with a Padd and a bag of junk food he had found in a cabinet. For a doctor, McCoy certainly didn’t eat like one. He’d been pleased to find the food, but it meant another bad habit to add to the list of McCoy’s problems.
He’d had to go through several Padds before he found one that wasn’t another mind numbing medical text. When he finally booted one that wasn’t about some awful disease, Sam gave a small cheer. It soon became apparent from the contents that this Padd couldn’t possibly belong to McCoy. Sam found it highly unlikely that a man who stocked his shelves with well loved medical books would also own a Padd full of Hemingway and adventure novels. He scrolled through the information and noted that the Padd was registered to Jim. Sam looked back down at the bedside table where it had been lying next to a tube of lube. He could see leather peeping out from beneath the stack of Padds he had gone through. Sam removed the thing from the bottom of the stack. It was a leather bound book of some sort. When he tried to crack it open it refused to and asked for verbal identification.
Must be his journal Sam thought.
It was a plain little thing, but quite conspicuous among the pile of Padds. Sam stared at it for a moment, curious about what secrets it could reveal.
He set it back down on the bedside table and restacked the Padds on top of it.
It wasn’t just the full bar that tipped him off.
His quarters didn’t look like a home. There were signs that he lived there occasionally, but it looked more like McCoy had set this place up as a place to lay his head than a place to go home to.
On one shelves stuffed with paper books there was a picture of the doctor with a little girl in a prim white summer dress. He was crouched with one arm wrapped around her. McCoy looked into the camera, a different man from the one who left Sam here, while the girl grasped a handful of his hair and stared into the camera, eternally confused.
Sam found a small seashell on another shelf. He had never actually held a shell from Earth’s oceans. It wasn’t so different from the shells found on other planets, but he turned it in his hand and inspected every detail. It was fairly obvious why McCoy had brought the picture of the little girl, but the shell was hard to explain.
Sam put it back on the shelf, resolved to stop snooping.
Showered and dressed in a pair of shorts he’d found in McCoy’s closet, Sam curled up on the bed with a Padd and a bag of junk food he had found in a cabinet. For a doctor, McCoy certainly didn’t eat like one. He’d been pleased to find the food, but it meant another bad habit to add to the list of McCoy’s problems.
He’d had to go through several Padds before he found one that wasn’t another mind numbing medical text. When he finally booted one that wasn’t about some awful disease, Sam gave a small cheer. It soon became apparent from the contents that this Padd couldn’t possibly belong to McCoy. Sam found it highly unlikely that a man who stocked his shelves with well loved medical books would also own a Padd full of Hemingway and adventure novels. He scrolled through the information and noted that the Padd was registered to Jim. Sam looked back down at the bedside table where it had been lying next to a tube of lube. He could see leather peeping out from beneath the stack of Padds he had gone through. Sam removed the thing from the bottom of the stack. It was a leather bound book of some sort. When he tried to crack it open it refused to and asked for verbal identification.
Must be his journal Sam thought.
It was a plain little thing, but quite conspicuous among the pile of Padds. Sam stared at it for a moment, curious about what secrets it could reveal.
He set it back down on the bedside table and restacked the Padds on top of it.