Dr. Leonard McCoy (
leftwithmybones) wrote2016-07-26 08:04 pm
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He feels like a goddamn new man.
True, he's been on the mend for probably weeks now, but the tests that came back today report that his white blood cell count is finally back up to where it's supposed to be and that whatever the hell was wrecking its way through his system might be there, but with a few treatments a month, he's got it under control. McCoy goes for a haircut, buys himself some new clothes and a bottle of champagne, and then he's on his way home to tell Jim the good news.
(And he just thought of the place as home, now he knows he's thinking about sticking it out and staying with Jim)
And Jim. Well, he owes Jim a hell of a lot, which is why he's also got himself a small gift-wrapped box in his hand. All those shifts at the hospital and all that overtime along with his salary means he's got a lot of money in the bank. After all that Jim's been through because of him, the man deserves a nice present. Breathing out the last of his nerves, he knocks as he heads inside the house, butterflies slamming against his ribcage as he announces himself.
"Jim! Jim, I'm home," he calls. "Where are ya?"
True, he's been on the mend for probably weeks now, but the tests that came back today report that his white blood cell count is finally back up to where it's supposed to be and that whatever the hell was wrecking its way through his system might be there, but with a few treatments a month, he's got it under control. McCoy goes for a haircut, buys himself some new clothes and a bottle of champagne, and then he's on his way home to tell Jim the good news.
(And he just thought of the place as home, now he knows he's thinking about sticking it out and staying with Jim)
And Jim. Well, he owes Jim a hell of a lot, which is why he's also got himself a small gift-wrapped box in his hand. All those shifts at the hospital and all that overtime along with his salary means he's got a lot of money in the bank. After all that Jim's been through because of him, the man deserves a nice present. Breathing out the last of his nerves, he knocks as he heads inside the house, butterflies slamming against his ribcage as he announces himself.
"Jim! Jim, I'm home," he calls. "Where are ya?"
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He doesn't let himself get too happy or relieved, though, lest it all come crashing down again. He's in his room, reading when Bones returns and practically shouts the house down. "What?" he says, springing from the bed. "I'm right here, what's happening?" Jim pauses. "Did you just knock?"
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"And shut up, I'm polite, I was knocking real polite-like."
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"I - " he starts. Even in the twenty-third century, champagne is still a victory drink. Jim's heart squeezes in his chest. "Are we celebrating?"
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"Bones," he gasps out, pulling his mouth away. "What's gotten into you?"
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"C'mere, come sit down."
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Jim stops just short of you're going to be okay. "Bones, tell me."
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"Now, here, I got you a present," he says. "Open it."
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"So I got you a motorcycle," McCoy says, gesturing to the box. "Those are the keys."
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"Really?" It's been ages since he'd taken a proper ride, before the Academy, even. "Bones, this is...this is a huge present!"
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He gets to his feet, plucking on Jim's shirt. "C'mere, let's go see your ride."
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"You really got me one," he says, realizing the keys are still in his hand. "This is really happening."
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"How about you ride it, then you come home and ride me and describe it," he offers, thinking it's a pretty compromise.
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He leans forward to kiss Jim, cupping his cheek possessively tight. "I've put you through a lot of hell and for that, I'm sorry."
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"Wish I knew what the hell it was, but best I can tell, it's nothing from this planet. Something I picked up in space," he guesses.
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"You sure you won't go for a ride with me?" he asks. "Maybe sit on it and let me kiss you for a while?"
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"You joining me or what?"
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It's a hefty goal, but hell, why not reach for the stars?
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"We're not getting naked out here," he warns.
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As if it isn't going to be Jim, but it's got a challenge to it.
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And that just ain't sexy in the least.