if i or she should chance to be -- act two, part two of four

[lovely_ambition]

It’s the middle of an already long night and McCoy’s been trying to fall asleep for the last two hours since Jocelyn turned in for the evening, citing that while McCoy might be happy to stay up and think about Jim in the guest room two doors down, she needs her sleep. She’s got covers to the left of her and pillows to the right and a man that she might be in love with down the hall. McCoy lets out another frustrated huff and collapses back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“No constellations there,” a light voice reprimands her from the doorway. McCoy sits up slightly and rests on her elbows as she takes in just who’s decided to come annoy her.

And because annoying is on the cards, of course it’s Jim.

He’s in nothing more than a pair of pajama bottoms that used to belong to McCoy, so they’re far too big for her now and they’re still too big for Jim to be wearing. They pool at his ankles and are just begging for a klutzy moment and an injury to be patched up. Moonlight reflects dully off his chest as he wanders into the room and stands at the foot of the bed. McCoy breathes out heavily and tries to figure out how to counteract this first move.

She’s in a pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt from U of Miss, but McCoy’s heart is beating so hard and so fast that she’s sure that Jim has no trouble seeing it. “Jim,” McCoy reprimands with a long sigh.

“Can I come in?” he asks, even though he’s already three steps in. He doesn’t stop his forward progress, even though McCoy hasn’t given him an answer yet. She gives him a single nod when his knees touch the bed and he crawls atop on hands and knees, finding his way to McCoy’s side. He sits on the right side while she takes the left. It’s just like it was back on the ship when they shared Jim’s bed. He sits straight up instead of lying down, but McCoy shifts so that she’s leaning on one elbow and staring up at him. “Hey, Bones,” he whispers with a boyish smile on his face.

“Hey, Jim,” she greets in turn, unable to keep from laughing at the situation. “What the hell are we doing?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I’m the house’s official handyman after I cleaned out your gutters,” Jim says helpfully, leaning in and brushing his nose against McCoy’s and she can feel the lascivious grin as he presses his face to McCoy’s neck. “If this were one of those old-time pornography movies, your payment for my services would be very, very interesting,” he teases. He slowly moves, his body seemingly uncomfortable, as he slowly lies down in bed and coaxes McCoy closer with a hand on the small of her back, using his fingers to brush at frizzy hairs on McCoy’s forehead. “Being here has only convinced me of what I already knew on the Enterprise, even when I didn’t know that you were Sam,” he admits and his voice is so painfully quiet that McCoy hates that it’s her that’s made him this way. “My life with you in it in this capacity, Bones…it’s incredible,” he says, whispers, promises her a dozen things without even realizing that he’s promising them over. “I want you back on the ship.”

“Jim,” McCoy reprimands sharply, the drawl thick and heavy. “Jo’s all of four years old and I’ve been a fixture in her life now that Jocelyn and I have patched things up.”

“Jocelyn’s your ex.”

“Yeah, but we have a life, too.”

“Bones, please,” Jim snaps, sounding tired and panicked at once. “You two tried. You said as much. You tried and nothing came of it, so whatever life you have is being held together because you have a daughter and you’re very good friends, but you and I, we could be more than that. You and I could have our own life together,” he says, his blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight and something like hope echoes on his face. “We’d share a bed, share our secrets and our burdens. Every day, I’d kiss you to show you how much I love you and every mission, I’d let you stab me with a dozen hyposprays if it keeps me safe and healthy. We’d grow old together and we’d save the universe from danger and bring cures to people. And it would be you and me. It’d be like before, like Sam and Jim, but this time, no secrets or veils or misconstrued identities.” His expression turns soft and fond. “I love you, Bones. I’ll tell you that every day until you get tired of it, but I do. And it’s not just you being a woman now. I fell in love with you taking care of me and not taking any of my crap and being so tough and resilient and helpful in Medical. I might have been seeing something else on the outside, but deep down, you were always the same Leonard McCoy that I’ve known since you threw up on me in that shuttle.” He’s getting closer by the moment, an inch for every second and soon enough, his arms are around McCoy’s waist and they’re close as anything. “Let me be your boyfriend. Let me be your life.”

“Now how on earth am I supposed to say no to that?” McCoy wonders aloud with a soft drawl in her voice, forehead furrowed in absolute fondness at what Jim has to say. Days ago, Jocelyn had asked if McCoy had wanted Jim to leave and the resulting decision had been a fifty-fifty choice. Now, if Jocelyn were to ask, McCoy knows her answer.

No. No, she doesn’t want Jim to leave, not ever.

“Wait, this is you giving in?” Jim reacts with shock, eyes bugging wide. “You’re saying yes? You and me…we’re really going to…?”

“Don’t look so shocked, Jim,” McCoy chides lightly.

“I kind of expected to have to fight for this,” Jim says, looking and sounding stunned. “I mean, I had this plan. We’d go to dinners and hang out and I’d romance you and prove why I love you, but I kind of didn’t expect you to just say yes so quickly, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you did, but…seriously?”

“Jim, yes.”

“We’re gonna be a we?” Jim asks, suddenly less shocked and far more delighted. He’s already laughing breathlessly while cupping McCoy’s cheeks and pressing his forehead to hers and it sounds stupid, it sounds childish, it sounds impossible, but McCoy swears she can feel something like warmth radiating at the very moment that Jim presses that smile against her lips and seals this conversation with a kiss. “Eighteen fucking months coming, Bones, you put me through hell.”

“I was making up for the Academy,” she grunts, but there’s a smile on her face as well and it’s all too easy to laugh as she eases away and looks very seriously at Jim. “Are you ready for this, Jim? It took me a long, long time to get used to this,” she points out, the sober seriousness of the situation ruling over the conversation. “I need to know you’re not going to panic at the first sign of danger.”

“Bones,” Jim chides with a dubious look as he slides his hand under her waist and pulls her closer. “I’m the Captain of the Enterprise.” Well, it’s good to know that he can at least be just as condescending as before. “I boldly go where no one has gone before.”

“Do not make bad puns at a time like this,” McCoy warns sternly.

“Okay, fine, no oral for you,” Jim retorts and leans in to press a kiss to her neck. McCoy closes her eyes and indulges in this feeling of safety between the two of them, loving the feel of Jim so close and the notion that she no longer has to fear the deep abyss awaiting her when she takes a single step forward. If Jim’s really in this, both feet in, then he’s going to keep McCoy from falling far too deep.

They lie there like that and McCoy can hear Joanna’s soft huffs of breath as she sleeps peacefully next door. She hears Jocelyn down the hall as she tosses and turns with the sheets. She lies there and sits awash with memories of eighteen months in which McCoy had decided that she couldn’t deal with Jim in her life, choosing work and personal discovery instead of him. She has time to counteract that decision (though she’ll never regret it because McCoy wouldn’t be sane if not for that time). This is that opportunity.

“Of course,” Jim’s still talking, his fingers brushing soft patterns up and down McCoy’s neck. The soft touch is making the hair on McCoy’s forearms stand on end and it’s enough to make her shiver. “This does mean you’ll be coming back to the Enterprise. I’m pretty sure Pike’s going to be happy to hear that you’re coming back as CMO. I mean, if you’re willing.”

“…Jim,” McCoy sighs, that stern tone not truly disappearing. “What about Joanna?”

“She’ll be here every time you want to visit. And she’ll have all new inappropriate pictures to show you, I’m sure.”

It’d been the subject of much laughter yesterday when Jim had picked Joanna up from school to discover her newest piece of art. It was a crayon drawing of four stick-figures. One said ‘JOANNA’, one said ‘MOMMY’, and then it got complicated. It went from that to ‘MY NEW MOMMY WHO USED TO BE MY DADDY’ and then ‘MY UNCLE JIM WHO MIGHT BE MY NEW DADDY’. Jocelyn had snorted that the teacher would think the family had gone batshit nuts, to which McCoy had contended with the fact that all of Atlanta knew about how the McCoys weren’t like normal people. It’s a reminder that they’re in no way normal, but it’s also a nice reminder that McCoy isn’t alone in dealing with this. She’s got the help of a family.

“Jim, take a minute and think about this,” McCoy encourages on her last note of desperation. “You’re asking me to be the most important person in your life. You sure about this?”

“Bones, I’ve been sure for eighteen months,” Jim assures her and lifts her palm to press a kiss to the warmth of her skin, brushing his soft and full lips against her knuckles. His half-lidded gaze is focused on her hand and he lets out a light laugh. “Your hand is so small. Your fingers are so thin now.”

“That’s exactly what Jocelyn says,” McCoy says, feeling light-headed at the symmetry of the situation. Somehow, with that, she knows that there’s always going to be these bookends in her life. Jocelyn starts it all and Jim ends it off and McCoy’s life happens in the in-between. Joanna’s going to be there and Jocelyn’s going to tether her and make sure she doesn’t drift away into the vacuum of space. “The Enterprise again, huh? Think the staff is still terrified of my hypospray technique?”

Jim grins beatifically. “People don’t forget something like that, Bones, don’t worry,” he assures her, nuzzling at her neck and pressing a euphoric kiss to her skin. “You’re coming home,” he announces with delight. “Everything’s going to be perfect, Bones, just wait and you’ll see.”

After so long dwelling on each craterous and unerring flaw, McCoy thinks maybe she could do with a little perfection even if she knows that fairy tale endings and perfect happy-ever-afters don’t exist in real life.

*

The weather has yet to make its turn for warmth and McCoy isn’t sure when the cold snap is going to break. She’s made sure that Joanna has been outfitted as best as she can be in a puffy pink coat with a wool cap tugged down over her ears. She’s in McCoy’s arms as Jim rings the doorbell in front of them, bouncing on his feet.

“Is this gonna be my Nana?” Joanna whispers to McCoy and clings to her hand with mittened fingers.

The subject of her and Jim has been a strange one at best. They’ve agreed that they’re going to be together, but McCoy’s not sure that she ought to be making promises to Joanna about new fathers just yet when she’s only four and at an impressionable age and is already drawing pictures that have the whole school board worried about the McCoy family. “Maybe, kidbit, okay?” McCoy replies and hitches her up on one of her generous hips, abandoning the bags in the middle of the snowy path to join Jim on the doorstep, wrapping her free arm around his waist and pulling him close. “Remember to breathe, Jim, god knows we don’t need you going into cardiac arrest right here on your mother’s porch.”

“I haven’t seen her in months,” Jim admits and flashes an anxious look back at McCoy, tweaking Joanna’s pink nose (tinged by the cold) and grinning at her. “Plus, I don’t think I’ve ever brought a woman home, let alone a grandchild.”

“Small steps, Jim,” McCoy reminds him sharply. “We’re still just figuring things out.”

They must make a strange little family portrait, but McCoy doesn’t focus on that. She’s the elder of the three of them and knows that she’s got her duties. She has to make sure Jim stays in line and Joanna to an extent and she has to make sure that everyone gets out intact. And yeah, it might sound stupid, but it’s the truth.

What none of them are expecting is for Admiral Pike to open the door with a dishcloth over his forearm and a pleased smile on his face.

“…Sir?” McCoy manages to eke out because Jim’s certainly not about to say anything. He’s stuck in paralyzed shock.

Jim and McCoy have had long discussions over Jim’s mother divorcing Frank when Jim was twenty and that there was apparently a ‘new man’ in her life as of recent days, but the new man had never been given a name in their frequent communications. He certainly hadn’t had a face until this moment right now and no one seems to possess the words to get past the initial shock. Christopher Pike is the new man in Winona Kirk’s life and somehow McCoy feels as if this is the news-topper of the day and not the fact that Jim’s found a woman to be with who used to be a man who comes equipped with a four-year-old daughter.

“Come on in,” Pike invites, stepping away from the door after retrieving the bags from the walkway. “Your mother’s had me slaving over a hot stove all day,” he confides in Jim. “She wanted me to make a good impression.”

“I’m pretty sure the whistling did that for you back at the bar all those years ago,” Jim finally manages to retrace his steps and find where he had lost both his voice and his words. He pauses to collect McCoy, hand on her back as she eyes Pike warily. This is the first time they’ve met since Chrysenthia and McCoy’s had a healthy wariness when it comes to acquaintances and strangers. She hates that look in their eye, the pitiful one, the one that says they’re sympathetic when really they’re just uncomfortable. “Bones, you mind if I go see her?”

“You go, Jim, we’ll stay with the Admiral and help. Right, kidbit?” McCoy cheerfully says, tapping Joanna’s nose and earning a bright and barked, ‘right!’ from her daughter.

Jim presses a kiss to her cheek and Joanna’s forehead before edging his way between them and delving into the house with a boomed, ‘Mom, we’re here!’ through the halls.

If Pike’s going to look at McCoy with pity, then McCoy’s going to look right back with doubt.

“You and Winona Kirk?” McCoy points out warily, arching her brow as she sets Joanna down on the ground to start the dismantling process of hat, mittens, jacket, boots, and more. It’s the best offensive she can think of for the moment as she slowly slides out of the long black woollen coat and lets Pike take it, adjusting the plaid shirt she’s wearing and the jeans before picking Joanna up into her arms once more.

There’s awkwardness in the air between them that isn’t seemingly ready to break at any point soon. “You and Captain Kirk?” Pike echoes in a mimicking tone as to the one that McCoy had just used.

“What can I say? There’s nothing like amnesia to play matchmaker,” McCoy deadpans and shifts her grasp on Joanna. “What’d you cook for us?”

“Well, I heard that little Miss McCoy would be with us, so we have some animal-shaped nuggets for her and apparently for Jim.”

“Don’t ask. Love the man as I might, he has periods in which his inner child gets hold of the controls.” McCoy doesn’t mention that his inner-child isn’t much of an issue at all around Joanna considering it tends to make him an incredible father-figure. “So, can I ask how long this has been going on or is the answer just going to drive me to fits?”

“Since just after Jim joined Starfleet. She called me to discuss his enrollment and things progressed.”

Trust Pike to treat the situation like a briefing. He’s even standing at attention as he delivers the words. McCoy feels like waving a hand to set him at ease, but she just adjusts Joanna in her arms and gestures down the hall.

“Are we sitting down somewhere?”

“Winnie’s got drinks ready in the den,” Pike confirms. “I made sure to get the bourbon you were so fond of at the Academy.”

“I’ll stick to beer,” McCoy says, setting Joanna down and whispering ‘go find Jim and keep him company, okay?’ before watching her run off. With Joanna gone, McCoy can be slightly more honest with Pike without having to worry about little pitchers with big ears going back to their original mother with a tattle to tell. “I’m pretty sure Jim is more than willing to drink that bourbon for you. He’s a bucket of nerves.”

“I’m not sure my surprise appearance has helped,” Pike notes ruefully.

“I think he’s slightly more concerned with the fact that he thinks his mother is going to hate me, which is ridiculous because I’ve been here six times before and we all got along fine, then,” McCoy complains, stepping into the den and leaning over to grasp one of the bottles of beer, saluting Admiral Pike with it before reclining in one of the chairs and resting her legs on the ottoman that she’s always used in past visits. “Suddenly I have breasts and it’s an issue.”

“In Jim’s defense, I think the issue has more to do with the fact that he’s been calling here telling Winona that he’s found the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with,” Pike offers his own take on the situation in between pouring himself a scotch on the rocks and sitting in the large chair opposite McCoy. “She’s been very happy on Jim’s behalf.”

“It’s not like I wasn’t going to follow him into black holes and supernovas before,” McCoy says pointedly. “She always used to say we were joined at the hip.”

“I assume it’s just literal now?” Pike lightly jokes.

“Not really,” McCoy mumbles the answer into the neck of the beer bottle and shrugs when she catches Pike’s look. “Things have been complicated, it hasn’t exactly come up seriously.”

There’s an awkward silence that stretches out between them and McCoy manages to swallow half the bottle’s worth of beer in the duration, trying to ignore the excited talk in the kitchen. Only half those giddy words belong to Joanna and the rest are shared by Jim and his mother.

McCoy makes the first stab at conversation. “So you two are serious, huh?”

“She contacted me, before any notions get out of hand. It was just drinks to start with, reminiscing about the old days and talking about the Academy before all you young kids got hold of it. It just turned into something more and I’m the luckiest man in the world that it did.”

McCoy glances through the small pass-through that separates den and kitchen, watching the three of them sample sauce from a pan and laugh warmly about something that Joanna’s said, jumping to get Jim’s attention.

“You need help in there?” McCoy calls out. “I feel like I’m bucking convention drinking while there’s cooking to be done.”

“Don’t worry, Bones, you’re already dressed like a lesbian! Convention’s been bucked!” Jim retorts cheerfully, even though Winona mutters a disapproving ‘Jim, do you want to sleep on a couch for the rest of your life?’ at him.

McCoy shakes her head. “I might just kill him before I sleep with him. It’s a real possibility,” she says to Pike as if they’re just exchanging courtesies and small talk.

The stories come next. McCoy is grateful to Admiral Pike for focusing on her hospital-based experience as he makes queries about procedures that she’s been focusing on during her time on Earth. She asks him about the latest news in the Fleet and new mandates that apply to space, being that she’s been operating under terran-based rules. McCoy finishes two beers and Pike’s swilling his third glass of brandy by the time Jim joins them from the kitchen.

Jim slides his arms down over her shoulders, pressing his chin to the top of McCoy’s head and while she can’t see it, she’s sure he’s giving Pike his most dazzling smile.

“My Mom says you’re kind of my new Dad, apparently?” As light as Jim is attempting to make those words, they still come out tense and unsure. McCoy reaches her hand up to lightly clasp at Jim’s fingers and gives a light squeeze. She knows that Frank hadn’t been the pinnacle of good fathering, but Pike is definitely not that man and Jim knows that. Or, rather, he ought to know that. “Keep her happy, sir, and I’m happy.” Jim’s a professional at straddling the line between personal and professional in cases like this and McCoy’s proud of his progress in striving for more of a professional tone that he didn’t have before.

“Can do, Captain,” Pike remarks, lazily saluting while glancing to the kitchen where Joanna is still helping Winona with the dessert. “Come to join us?”

“Mom said something about amazing bourbon,” Jim agrees, pouring himself a glass before sitting down next to McCoy and resting his free hand on her knee, rubbing up and down lightly. McCoy’s sure they make the perfect picture together, but that’s an awkward thought considering how it’s supposed to be, but never will be again. “I hope you haven’t been boring Bones.”

“He’s just getting me ready to be back on the ship by next week’s time,” McCoy assures Jim. “That way I don’t go against Fleet procedure unknowingly.”

“But knowingly is a different story,” Pike notes ruefully.

“I have zero comment on that matter,” McCoy says evenly, tipping back the beer for a drink while she glances over her shoulder. “I’m going to help your mother, Jim,” she informs him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “At least enough to get Jo out of her way.”

“Okay,” Jim agrees, smiling at her as she goes.

The short walk to the kitchen affords her the eavesdropping of a very brief conversation. “Seeing you happy is a nice change,” Pike says.

“I just had to find Bones, that was all. I knew that was all it was going to take,” Jim promises.

McCoy rounds the corner and sees Joanna staring amazedly as Winona squeezes whipped cream out of a tube onto the pie. She rests her hand on Joanna’s back and then hitches her up into her arms, which has become something of a habit ever since McCoy had come back to Earth in order to find herself.

“The boys giving you trouble?” Winona asks.

“I was worried the little one was for you,” McCoy admits.

“Joanna’s a dear, Leonard, don’t you worry,” Winona promises and at the utterance of McCoy’s first name, Joanna turns to look at her in awe, mouthing ‘Leonard’ and then ‘wow’ drawn out. McCoy’s not sure how long this little fascination is going to last on Joanna’s behalf, the way she seems to turn McCoy’s strange and permanent condition into an imaginary story that probably has its fair share of evil witches and dragons. “We’d be more than happy to have all of you over more often,” Winona points out with the heavy hand of guilt in her words the way that only a mother has perfected. McCoy has to wonder if she’s going to earn that same skill in time. “Jim seems to adore the both of you. Of course, I could see as much before with you when you were a man, but he dotes on Joanna, as well.”

“I love Daddy Jim,” Joanna provides helpfully.

“Good girl, Jo!” Jim calls from the other room. “You can have a candy bar for that!”

McCoy scowls slightly and taps Joanna on the nose lightly. “What do you think your mother is going to say when I bring you back home to her and you keep parroting Jim’s little catchphrases?”

Joanna clings closer at that, burrowing her face against McCoy’s shoulder. “Do you really have to leave, Daddy?” she wonders quietly. McCoy hates the fact that she’s going to in order to be closer to Jim and from the look of sympathy on Winona’s face, McCoy knows she’s not alone in knowing that this is a terrible decision to have to make.

“I’m going back up to be a doctor on the Enterprise. You remember the ship? Jim brought you a little toy of it the first time you met him,” McCoy soothes her lightly, rocking her back and forth. “And I’ll come visit all the time and I’ll bring Jim with me.” While she wants to make a stab at a future with Jim, McCoy just can’t bring herself to call him ‘Daddy Jim’ with her own words just yet.

McCoy flashes Winona an apologetic smile and sets Joanna down on the ground when Joanna affords a nod of understanding.

“Would you like help bringing this all out to the table?” McCoy offers.

“That’d be wonderful, Leonard, really,” Winona agrees.

McCoy crouches to send Joanna to join Jim and Admiral Pike, waiting for her departure to turn to Winona and brace herself for the incoming reaction. They’ve met several times, but it’s never been like this and she’s never been Jim’s significant other up until this point. Before, McCoy had always been the long-suffering best friend who kept an eye out on her son for her.

“How are you doing?” Winona asks first, looking down to catch her attention - which is a first that McCoy is still getting used to, hating the fact that she’s abandoned three inches off her former height. McCoy had been tall before and she hates having to give that ground to the forced switching of her chromosomes.

McCoy braces the bowl of brussels sprouts with a casserole in her hands, letting them weigh down on her as much as her thoughts are. “I have good days and I have bad days,” McCoy admits. “Jim’s helping there to be more good days lately, but it’s probably also because I’ve had about twenty months now to really accustom myself to it.”

“I’m still very sorry on your behalf given what happened,” Winona says and it sounds as though there is a ‘but’ approaching. “However, I have to admit, I’ve never seen Jimmy so happy and settled as he is with you. I know you and I know you’ll take care of him, but I also know my son. He will take care of you and your daughter,” Winona insists, bringing the food alongside McCoy as they set it on the table.

The plates join the cutlery settings to make up a perfect dinner party. Winona reaches across the table to lightly clasp McCoy’s hand in hers.

“Leonard,” Winona starts seriously. “I know you lost your mother a good time ago, but I want you to know that if you ever need someone in that capacity, you have me. I know this is a difficult process and I want you to promise me that if you ever need to be anything but that strong Doctor McCoy my son always delightedly talks about, you can come here. Understood?”

McCoy wants to protest that she already has Jocelyn and she couldn’t possibly intrude on Winona like this, but some part of McCoy misses her mother more than anything and knows that if Eleanor McCoy had still been alive, she would have had a tumultuous son-turned-daughter on her hands while the transformation was still new and fresh in her mind. And so this offer coming now, though McCoy thinks logically she doesn’t need it, hits some emotional core to the point that all she can do is nod rapidly.

“Good,” Winona says and brings her in for a tight hug. “I already have two sons. A third is a breeze,” she promises McCoy and smiles as she pulls away, her eyes rimmed slightly with red. “Now! How about we get to eating?”

Without realizing it that evening, McCoy has somehow earned herself another home. As Jim rounds the corner to join them at the head of the table, she presses a fond kiss straight to his lips (ignoring Joanna’s ‘ew, gross’ muttered under her breath) and knows now what it’s like to feel like she’s finally coming home.

First Iowa, then the Enterprise.

There are routines she’s going to lose, face-to-face contacts she’s going to miss, but deep down, she knows that these things will still be awaiting her on Earth and she’s not running away from them anymore.

“Mom, this looks amazing,” Jim praises, fork and knife already poised and ready to attack. “Well, everybody! Let’s eat!”

*

There are so many things about coming back to the Enterprise that makes it feel like home. McCoy loves the smell of the air, the feel of the furniture in her cabin. She loves standing in Medical and watching the efficient team doing what they do best. She loves seeing Christine grin at her like she’s found a long lost friend.

McCoy also delights in new routines. For instance, she insists on making fifteen minutes of time in her day to report to the bridge in a female Starfleet uniform and simply stand two feet away from Spock with her hands behind her back. She exists and therefore, she is illogical because there’s nothing at all logical about what happened to her.

It drives him crazy and McCoy loves it.

“Captain, the Doctor’s presence is rendering my efficiency lower by a coefficient of approximately three point four percent,” Spock complains on one such day. It’s as close to whining as a Vulcan can get and McCoy’s smirking at a job well done.

Jim glances over and looks her up and down. “Bones,” he says idly, not exactly very stern. “Stop teasing Spock with your breasts. That’s an order.”

Things change. Whereas before, McCoy had always taken ten minutes to get ready in the morning, now she puts in a good half-hour’s care. She’s not vain so much as she’s got a real sense of pride in putting herself together to look decent. The last thing she needs is to find herself the topic of conversation about how ragged she looks and how put-upon she must be. She’s doing just fine and would be happy to say so. Each day, therefore, starts with a shower and a good scrub before McCoy puts her hair up in an efficient ponytail.

Three days of seven, she wears the female Starfleet uniform. The other four days are spent in trousers. She does not give Jim a schedule of when these days are to occur.

Of course, Jim has his own version of retaliation for McCoy’s scheduling. On one of the days that she wears the skirt, he beckons her to the ready room to discuss the latest inoculations being distributed by Starfleet in order to avoid the issue of the latest permutation of the flu. They’re having a mature discussion as McCoy stands at attention and then suddenly Jim’s sitting on the couch and beckoning her to join. It’s his own special version of ‘at ease’.

She goes, of course, because McCoy always goes when Jim beckons, crooks those long and pretty little fingers of his to get her near.

So she sits and they move on to discuss promotions and raises within their respective departments. McCoy actually thanks whatever gods are still rumbling about out there in space that Jim waits until they’re discussing personal business (today it’s what they want to eat for dinner) before he slides a splayed palm slowly up her bare thigh.

“Jim,” McCoy warns lightly, even as his thumb brushes slow and ascending circles up McCoy’s pale skin - she’s been wary of the sun because she’s not sure what the pigmentation of her skin is like now and how easily she might burn. His hand feels good, but that’s beside the point. The point is that she’s half in his lap and the bridge is mere feet away and his hand doesn’t seem intent on stopping its conquering path upwards.

Jim just dares her with a mischievous look as his fingers brush the sensible cotton edges of McCoy’s underwear.

“Oh, you’re a dead man,” she exhales, teeth gritted together as McCoy swings her legs around and steadies herself on her feet, smoothing a hand over the black boots that Jim had been trying to unfasten with his other hand. “No dirty business in the ready room, the bridge, or sick bay, Jim, got it?” McCoy says, hoping that the crazed look is in her eyes and that it’s giving Jim a ‘do not enter’ signal.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jim sighs out as if he’s been mortally wounded by these rules and sprawls on the couch while McCoy adjusts her uniform and makes it out to the bridge, ignoring all the looks she’s getting as a result and making a note to use the antique hyposprays the next time people have to come in for vaccines.

It’s not all fun and games, though. McCoy hasn’t spent the last eighteen months languishing about without nightmares and Jocelyn had done her best to calm them down for the first while. Now that she’s back with Jim, the task falls to him. Jim sleeps without his shirt on and so when McCoy starts scratching and protesting, screaming in her sleep, he takes the brunt of her attack. Every week, McCoy is guaranteed to dream about Chrysenthia at least once.

They had dragged McCoy away, screaming, kicking, and had pumped him full of chemicals before putting him under a machine that McCoy still doesn’t want to think about. Every time she dreams this, she kicks about and tries to escape, knowing that it’s not exactly possible. When she wakes on the Enterprise (after the first nightmare since she’s been back), she finds herself staring at a welted back.

They’re small marks and they’re definitely McCoy’s doing.

“Jim,” McCoy says, rife with guilt as she presses cream to those scratches in the morning. “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep in your own bed without me? Apparently I’m not the safest person to be around.”

“If I got forcibly kidnapped by aliens, put through a genetic change, and told there’s no cure, I think I’d be doing more than scratching,” Jim comments, body twitching and contorting slightly when McCoy presses cream to one of the deeper scratches. “Bones, it’s fine. It makes me feel like I can do something about this because Spock wouldn’t let me kill the bastards who did this to you.”

“So you could face a full court-martial and lose your command? I think I’ll thank Spock for that.”

“We’ll have to get that on tape,” Jim murmurs, sighing with relief when McCoy puts a cap on the cream and hands him a loose t-shirt to wear over the cuts. “And I’ll just wear more clothes to sleep. It’s my own fault for being half-naked and wanting you to see the goods.”

“Jim, I know the goods,” McCoy deadpans. “I don’t need them on display for me to know them.”

They settle once more in the bed in the positions that they’ve found comfortable over the last few weeks. McCoy is staring at the ceiling and feels more troubled than ever and Jim is sneaking glances her way when he thinks she’s not looking, but can actually see every last look. She’s trying her best not to think about the way Jim’s shifting and wincing because of the marks she’s left on him, but it’s difficult to put out of mind.

“How often have you been having the nightmares?”

“If I’m lucky, only two times a week,” McCoy admits, her jaw tense as she slowly pulls Jim atop her so that his back isn’t rubbing against the sheets and causing friction that could open the wounds. Jim settles with his head against her chest and lets out a quiet sigh of content. “Sometimes I’d be up for the whole night. Insomnia. I was afraid if I fell asleep, they’d come and take me away.” McCoy sighs, fingers slowly pushing through Jim’s hair to give her some kind of distraction.

He’s already falling right back to sleep, but McCoy knows that’s not going to be an option for her.

“Keep talking,” Jim coaxes her onwards, his voice already sticky with exhaustion.

“I honestly couldn’t sleep, Jim. I’d dream they’d come for me and wake up and grab a baseball bat. Jocelyn had to talk me down a couple times and once…Christ,” McCoy says, swallowing the grief of having to admit this. “Once, I nearly took a swing when it was just Joanna.” She knows how fucked up she is in the head and that it’s not her fault, but she would never forgive herself in a thousand years if anything had happened to Jo. “I don’t want to hurt you, Jim, and I’ve already done a good piece of damage to you.”

Jim’s hand cinches around her waist and he holds on lightly. “Bones, the first twenty-hours I spent on the Enterprise, you and everyone else put me through nine kinds of hell. You scratch like a kitten. Bones,” Jim chides. “Stop coming up with reasons for me to bolt when I want to stay. Got it?”

With the comforting weight of Jim on her body, McCoy can at least think that if anyone comes for her, Jim’s going to be the first line of defense to make sure that isn’t going to happen and she finds a solace in that, somehow.

“It’s not going to be easy, Jim,” McCoy just needs to remind him, her voice uneven and gritty as she thinks about multiple years’ worth of nightmares.

“Not to bog you down, Bones,” Jim murmurs, his eyes closed as he starts to speak in a hush, “But I still have nightmares about Frank and it’s been over a decade. The stuff that hurts us the most isn’t ever going to go away. But you kept an eye out for me during the Academy and doing the same for you now is the least I can do. Now, can we go to sleep? Being awake is making me want to do things to your body that I’m pretty sure I don’t have permission to do.”

McCoy sighs and just keeps pushing her fingers through Jim’s hair. “You sleep, Jim,” she insists stubbornly. “I’ll be here.”

“Keeping watch, hm? Make sure to ring the bell in case of icebergs.” Jim’s making absolutely no sense, but by the weight of his body and the feel, he’s already half-asleep.

McCoy isn’t going to join him in that. At least, not tonight with the pervasive echo of her nightmare clinging to her. There will be other opportunities for sleep. Tonight, she turns on the dim lamp beside the table and tries instead to focus on anything but what her mind wants her to see again and again.

act two, part three of four