leftwithmybones: (contemplative: by ?)
McCoy's not sure what to do about the fact that he's still on an Island, so instead of doing something about it, he retires to the jazz club and decides to drink, instead. It's not the most productive plans, it's not the best, but it gives him something to do. It gets him away from the Nameless Cat and Spock and it lets him drift into some version of the past where he had no worries, could be carefree, and a normal man not bowed down in grief for six billion souls, an ex-wife who kept his daughter from him, and his father's life weighing on his conscience.

He's starting to think maybe Jim and Chekov have the right idea. Find someone and let everything be poured into that desperate act of sex or companionship or whatever passes for it these days. He knocks back the rest of his drink and orders another as he turns to look at the woman that he's been watching since she came in. She's young, but not young and undeniably beautiful. He might be tipsy, but he knows that he's not dead inside if he can still acknowledge someone so stunning.


leftwithmybones: (Default)
Dr. Leonard McCoy

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