Leonard McCoy put down the Dr. Mutter book and fixed his daughter with a glance over the couch. It was early Saturday and he had her for the next week while his ex and her new husband went on a couple's retreat. He kept his opinions on that too himself, of course. "Tummy ache?"
She nodded, strands of hair coming lose from the french braid her mother had sent her in. "A bad one."
He got up and put the back of his hand against her forehead. "Do you want to skip breakfast of Lou's this morning?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Nooo. You promised me confetti pancakes."
"That might be a bit too sweet if your stomach's bothering you, bug. Maybe we should try some toast and we can watch some TV on the couch for a bit?"
"No park?" She looked toward the bay window that gave a view of the great expanse of open commons, a park was a five minute walk and it was already promising to be a warm fall day.
"Not if you're not feeling well, baby girl." He steered her back toward the couch.
She dug into the carpet. "What if we just went for a quick check up with Doctor Jim?"
Leonard's eyebrows flew into his hairline. "Doctor Jim?"
"Yeah. He works on Saturday morning. Nurse Chapel told me when I called." She smirked.
"This morning." She tried to hid her grin but she inherited his horrible poker face.
He threw his hands up in the air. "Joanna Beth McCoy!"
"This is about what we talked about. Sweetie, I know you think I'm lonely but I'm not. I'm fine. And I don't think Dr. Jim even-."
He was going to say likes men or is grown up enough to be in a relationship. He didn't have time or the ability to unpack a lifetime's worth of bisexual hopes and concerns plus the one-sided rivalry he had with the younger doctor since residency at SF General into language his seven-year-old might understand.
"Please, daddy? Can we go?" She asked, wrapping a small hand around his before he could rake it through his hair.
"We're not bothering Doctor Jim just because you want to, Joanna."
She blinked up at him with a look of sheer determination. She inherited his stubbornness too.
"You must come to dinner with my Becky, Doctor Kirk. Alaina Curtis had been bringing her grandson, Calvin, in for allergy shots every other Saturday for the past six weeks and never left without an entreaty to ask Calvin's aunt, Becky, out. Becky had taken Curtis once in the beginning and seemed more happy to chat with Christine than him.
But he couldn't explain that or his strict rule to never date anyone related to his patients to Alaina Curtis. He had a feeling she wouldn't understand.
He smiled and nodded, his go-to for situations like this, and tried not to laugh at Curtis' eye-roll.
"The day that woman finds out you prefer men is a day I hope I call out." Uhura commented as she made a notation in a patient chart. Like Jim, she preferred to have office hours on Saturday, as most patient's parents and guardians requested the extra hours for regular appointments. If it wasn't for the fact that Christine and Spock dragged him out most nights, he'd probably never leave. He preferred to always be on call in case a patient needed him.
"Let's make sure we leave that to Spock and I'm not here either."
An hour and a half later found Jim walking the path to his favorite food-truck in the commons. On Saturday he treated himself to The Greasy Spoon, a fantastic diner on wheels that served the most delightful grilled cheese to be found outside his nana's kitchen.
He ordered his slightly boring yet scrumptious usual: a double cheese on sourdough and found his favorite spot near the fountains which burbled just enough to drown out the specifics of park conversation but not enough that he wasn't able to listen to the park gossip of nannies and the chess players just around the corner.
He was mid-chew when a shrill squeal made him choke.
"Doctor Jim! We went by the office but Nurse Christine said you were on lunch and I was sad because you said I could come back anytime." Joanna McCoy pulled her father behind her as she kept up a steady stream of excited chatter. He wiped his hands on his jeans and stood, purposely avoiding the glare that Doctor Leonard McCoy was aiming at him--possibly for being where he didn't want him to be or just for existing.
Doctor McCoy was called Doctor McGorgeous or Doctor McGrumpy interchangeably by the hospital staff when Jim was a resident and there was a betting pool on whether or not he was a softie underneath or just a miserable bastard with the bedside manner of a spoiled house cat. Jim would have gone with the latter until the man showed up at his practice two weeks ago with his sick daughter in toe. Jim still daydreamed about the way McCoy thanked him profusely, kissed his daughter on the head and promised her the biggest ice cream she could order after the flu test (negative, thank christ) had left her without the negative reaction he was expecting. Apparently Jim was good at his job and Doctor McCoy thought so.
But Doctor McCoy was not only the most unattainable man Jim could have pined over--he was a parent to a patient and that was a line he didn't want to cross. Doctor Pike, his mentor and pediatrician extraordinaire had given him that advice and he wouldn't forget it.
"Hiya, Joanna. Doctor McCoy." He inclined his head and froze, realizing that he stole that move from Spock when he was trying to be conciliatory and that was just too weird.
"Doctor Kirk." McCoy nodded, pulling Joanna closer before she could sit down on the bench next to him.
"Doctor Jim why is your face getting red?"
Jim frowned, putting still greasy fingertips to his cheek which not only felt warm to the touch but itchy. He coughed.
"Daddy! Doctor Jim looks like when Curtis did after the pet show!"
"Shit." Doctor McCoy grew closer just as Jim's vision blurred. He tried to breathe but it was harder than usual. He looked down at his hands which were getting red and patchy with hives. Not good.
"Kirk?" McCoy's hands were on his shoulder. "Do you have a epi-pen?" Kirk?"
He felt bad for making Joanna cry as he pitched forward but he couldn't say that everything was going to be okay when his mouth wouldn't work.
"Felled by a grilled cheese." A rough voice sighed. "Just like my protege. What a story that will be."
Jim blinked at the rough hospital lights. "Sorry to disappoint. I lived."
"So you did. Thanks to Doctor McCoy. If you had finished the sandwich in that back corner of the park, who knows how long it would have been before someone found you. God, Jim, do you even carry an epi?" Even worried, Pike managed to look disapproving.
"I have the same sandwich every Saturday, Chris. I never need it." Jim forced out the sentence, wincing when he was done and he took a ragged breath.
"The new girl didn't clean the knife when she cut the sourdough, you know that? She was making a lobster salad sandwich before that. You could have died because of something so simple."
Jim made a face. "How'd you figure that out?"
"Oh, McCoy was ripping the owner a new one when they bought you those." Jim turned his head to see a huge flower arrangement taking up most of the bedside table. It was next to a large picture of what he guessed was Jim laying on the park grass while a large hand pressed down on his chest--Joanna's depiction of her father administering CPR he was sure.
"I'm not sure who's more smitten, the little girl or her father." As if Pike could read his thoughts too. Jim nearly shuddered at the thought.
"I know how you feel about McCoy. I've known since your first rounds with the man."
"Jesus, Pike, can I have one secret?"
"And I don't date patient's relations. You taught me that."
Pike laughed. "For your own good. When I told you that, you had just stitched up that little boy and his divorced parents were both going to propose to you right then and there. If you really like McCoy, which I know you do, then you should ask him for dinner." Pike smirked, the same smirk that he delivered when Jim got into med school and passed his exams. "He did save your life after all."
Years later, a local San Francisco magazine hoping to get the dirt on the two of them will call them a power couple and ask for quotes on when they first fell in love for the expose, hoping to unveil an epic origin story. Jim will say it all started when Bones (the nickname stuck after Jim in his post-CPR delirium complemented McCoy on his strong bones, this according to Joanna McCoy who swears that Jim passed out again after saying it) nearly made him piss his pants on his first round as an intern. Bones would say that he fell for his husband sometime around mouth to mouth and their first date a week later. It didn't matter much, because Joanna would take the credit and lord it over them for as long as she wanted.