leftwithmybones | (no subject)

When McCoy finishes with interviews and paperwork, the first thing he does is hail a cab. Jim had given him enough information that he can manage his way out of the city and give the address, sitting back and relaxing and enjoying the civilization he's missed so much. Sure, he'd liked being on the ground and letting his life get on with itself, but this is like a step forward. The technology's still a bit more behind than he'd like, but there's purpose here and a reason to earn money and society.

And hell, but McCoy's missed that.

Paperwork from accepting the job at the hospital in hand, McCoy tips the cab driver and walks up the steps to the house. He's only been here about two days, but he still hasn't seen Spock and he's still coming to grips, a little, with the relationship that he's about to witness. He's a grown man and he's happy if Jim's happy, but he can't deny it's gonna be an adjustment.

Clearing his throat, he knocks on the door and shifts the bottle of wine in hand, hoping that they don't mind a surprise visitor.

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Spock isn't bothered by the comment from Dr. McCoy -- to the affect of 'you haven't changed.' Spock takes it as a compliment. A stable personality, within reason, was highly sought after in a Vulcan. 'Boring' was a purely human concept. For the most part. Spock is happy to be considered quite predictable, by McCoy's standards.

Spock allowed a leisurely blink before nodding McCoy welcomingly into the house.

"Please eat something. Especially if it means you're going to be consuming half of whatever saturdated fat that Jim would have been, if you hadn't showed up to partake. If you need practice," he adds. " ... I haven't had a check-up in more than long enough."

"We'll make sure we get you a check-up," McCoy says, with a firm nod, but he's quickly spinning on Jim with an accusatory look on his face. "What's this about saturated fats? Does that mean you're still eating more than you should? I've told you a million times your heart's at risk for that sort of stuff, Jim," he complains sharply, but he's smiling like an idiot to be ranting at Jim like this again. It's been far, far too long.

"Probably less than I should," Jim replies, saved from the mental spiral he'd plummeted down at the thought of Bones examining Spock. It shouldn't sound weird - it would have been entirely normal on the Enterprise, and is probably even regulation, but Spock can surely tell what's wrong with him just by going into one of his meditation things, and -

Jim's head swing abruptly towards Spock. Holy shit, he's being nice. To Bones. Jim grins broadly at the pair of them. "Seriously. I eat more vegetables than I ever dreamed or wished for, and it is not at risk!" Jim pats his own chest. "I run like five miles a day."