Her Brooding Surgeon

Starfleet Academy, 2255

He was late - of course Jim was late, McCoy shouldn't have been surprised. His best friend was always late, either because he couldn't get to care or because there was something – or rather, someone – better to spend his time with. Still, considering that it had been Jim himself insisting to meet, begging for help on some of shared classes, McCoy would have expected at least the decency of a call, or even just a note, if Jim knew he was to spend his day with a pretty girl.

McCoy groaned, scratching the back of his head, ready to turn on his heels when, in the distance, he finally saw the object and cause of his frustration. He lifted an eyebrow, eyeing his friend suspiciously, because yes, Jim was indeed with a girl – but she was a little too young and too much on the shy side to be one of the cadet's usual conquests.

Crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his feet on the concrete, McCoy waited for Kirk and his conquest to join him, as they slowly walked in his general direction. Jim seemed pretty cheerful and smug – his usual self, in short – and completely at ease, while the girl, who didn't even look like she was of legal age, kept her eyes firmly on the ground, ready to jump at anything. She had huge old-fashioned glasses, clothes at least a couple of sizes too big, flats, plain spent brown hair in a messy ponytail.

He sighed, almost sorry for her. The girl didn't know what kind of troubles she had gotten herself into. Jim was, well, he was dangerous even for experienced and glamourous women, but this girl – this child – looked like just nothing special. She was probably just the flavor of the week: Jim would have gotten back to his womanizing ways in a few days, and she would have ended up with a broken heart, best case scenario.

"Bones, look what I've got here!" Jim shouted, but McCoy didn't move; he just shook his head, trying to show his annoyance for his friend's unfortunate behavior, and his disrespect of the female population in general (when it came to relationships) – an oddity, considering that Jim would have killed anyone showing such disrespects to either his mother or his step-sister.

"Bones," Jim patted the young girl on the shoulder, like to encourage her to show herself; still, she kept her head low, and the nicest blush graced her cheeks. It was the only note of color on her features – now that she was facing him, McCoy could see that she wasn't wearing any make-up – something else that further differenced her from Jim's usual conquests.

"Bones, Samantha Davis. Sam, Leonard McCoy. Don't call him Bones- only I can do that."

Ah, the famous Samantha - the step-sister Jim had acquired when his mother had remarried a widower with a child. It explained why the sudden change in taste – still, McCoy hadn't expected a young woman, rather, from Jim's words, a baby girl, and although a bit childish, Samantha had all the makings of someone who was going to be a fine lady. She would have made someone's fine wife for sure – she wasn't in his league, but he could picture her, married to a geek and raising a small army, playing the stay-at-home wife.

McCoy grunted something between clenched teeth, and nodded, as to show that he had understood who he was talking to, and that he was fine meeting her; the girl blushed even more, and looked smaller, if it was even possible, as the rude acknowledgement was the major attention she had ever received from a man in her short life.

Giving her a second look, McCoy imagined that it was actually possible he was right, and that the girl had been a wall-flower her whole life, Jim the only man who had even remotely flattered her – because McCoy had heard Jim, and Samantha had, somehow, her (step)brother wrapped around her little finger – so much so that, when he talked about her with people, he often dropped the step prefix altogether, hinting at a relation – and an affection – far deeper than what usually lie between people in similar situations who didn't even got to share the same last name.