leftwithmybones | (no subject)

Today's been a hell of a rough day.

Normally, he can get through his shift at the hospital with ease. Starfleet is hesitant to shove its cadets into situations they can't handle and thanks to paperwork and seniority issues, no one will let McCoy do the work he knows he can. So he's a glorified intern, instead, consulting and doing only half the work he ought to be. Today, though, he'd been working in the clinic when a married couple had come in, bright and beaming and barely off their honeymoon. It had been a kick in the ass; one that reminded him of Jocelyn in more ways than he liked.

That's why he ends up at the most popular dive-bar, knowing that it'll be crowded, but that it also has the best alcohol and the fairest prices, making it a popular campus choice. What he doesn't expect (though he should), is to walk into the bar and discover there's already an event going on, by the looks of it. More than that, looks like he knows the instigator.

Ignoring that mess, he heads up and holds up his fingers to order a drink. "Just bring the bottle," he amends his order, after a second.

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"Yeah, I think you need a scar from a barfight because you wouldn't wed the guy's sister," is his deadpanned retort, squirming as he tries to make room for himself and inevitably just ends up shoving at Jim to make some space, because it's easier than just giving it all up. "How about you become a Captain and earn some real scars. Not serious ones, though. Just superficial."

"Well, if everyone has their way, I'll never get my own ship. Too reckless," Jim spits out, regurgitating every bit of criticism he's ever received regarding training scenarios. "Because apparently being a captain means never winning no matter what. There's a way to achieve the mission objective and save people at the same time. I know there is. They just think too small, you know? Don't go outside the box."

The tests have to be designed by either A) old men or B) Vulcans.

"They're just jealous that you're outpacing them in your courses," he says dismissively, because he gets crap all the time at the hospital considering he outranks most of them and he knows he's smarter than most of them. "Look, Jim, don't worry too much about it. You're gonna prove that you're worth more than a ship. You're worth a whole damn fleet."

It makes him feel good to hear that from Bones, mostly because Bones isn't saying it just to get in his pants. Bones is saying it because he means it, or at least Jim thinks so, and that makes him feel indescribably good.

"Yeah? I think I'll get one sooner rather than later. And I want you on my crew."

"You really think I'm gonna take anyone else's offer?" There's a part of him that's damn tempted to accept some ground post, but he'd probably get tired of teaching the kids after about two weeks and then, where would he be? He digs out his card for the room, hauling Jim out of the cab after he's paid. "Thankfully, that's still a ways off."

"Yeah, considering I've got to get through the rest of this term first," Jim jokes. It's a very real concern, considering his track record, but he doesn't think anyone's been kicked out of the Academy for a few youthful indiscretions.

"I owe you cab fare, don't I?"

"Forget about it, just buy me a drink the next time we're out," McCoy replies dismissively, seeing as there'll be plenty of opportunities for Jim to pay him back without having to dig up some credits now. "You got problems with the rest of the term? I though you were doing fine."

"Academics? No. Behavioral, well. You've seen," Jim says, thinking it doesn't need to be spelled out at this point. He is not exactly the model of propriety. "So we're hoping I can fly under the radar for the rest of term and keep my nose clean."

"And I suppose telling you that you oughta behave wouldn't move the needle, huh?" McCoy asks wryly, knowing that it's never going to take and he's not even sure he wants it to. He digs out their key and gets them inside, heading to the small cabinet he keeps his medical things in, in order to start to patch Jim up properly.

"Sit," he orders.

Jim sits, because there's nothing else to do at this point. "Well, I could tell you that I'm going to atone for my sins and be a good boy but we both know it's a lie. I like to get in trouble a little too much. Still, I need you to help me stay on the straight and narrow so I don't get busted."

"Yeah, yeah," he sighs, "I'll keep on covering when you need me to," he promises, mainly because it's pretty much his only hobby outside of drinking, classes, and work. It's pretty much the only variety he gets, these days, which means he's going to keep doing it. "Just promise you'll invent something so that when you're on a ship, I don't feel like I'm in space at all."

"Now, now. You know I'm not a boy in blue," Jim teases. "Besides, why would you want it to feel like anything but space? Space is the best place to be. All that wide open black, exploring the stars? There's nothing like that. I just want wide open space for the rest of my life."

"You could do anything you damn well put your mind to," McCoy feels compelled to point out, given that Jim's pretty much that level of genius means that he can do anything he puts his mind to. "And you know I hate space. Pretty sure you figured that out the first time we met."

"And yet here you are at Starfleet Academy," Jim teases. He knows Bones' reasoning behind joining up and while he doesn't think that Bones has much in common with him, they have that much in common - they're both running from problems. Jim just tends to be a little more explosive about running away.

"You gonna stick with me when we get out there?"

"Where the hell else am I gonna go and who the hell else will take me?" is all McCoy has to offer, giving Jim a dubious look. "Of course I'm gonna stick with you. You're my best friend, aren't you?" he reminds him, digging through his things to find a pair of comfortable sweats to change into.

"I am your best friend," Jim says. There's no denying that, even if he wanted to, and he thinks that they'll make a good team once they finally get out to a ship out there in the stars.

"But you're a good doctor, Bones. People might fight over you."

"And if I'm a good doctor," he says, which he knows he is because he's got the talent and the brains and lots of experience, "that also means that I'm going to have first pick of all those offers. Right? I'm not suffering in space without you, kid," he vows. "So don't try and get rid of me."

"Not planning on it," Jim says softly. Of all the ways his life has changed over the last year or so, Bones is among the biggest. He's not a fuck up anymore. He's a cadet in Starfleet and he's doing well, even if he could do a little bit better. All that aimlessness that has plagued him his whole life is channeled into getting his own ship someday and he thinks Bones is a part of that. Bones needs a place in the universe too - especially since his wife did a number on him.

"Who else would I want with me?"