He knew his friend was puzzled by Spock and Uhura, but the fact that Jim seemed to be pining over the woman confused him. He had a high measure of respect for Uhura for flat out denying Jim. It was good for the captain to know that he wouldn’t get everything he wanted, but Bones was tired of seeing him act like a sullen child about it.

Leonard McCoy is thirty-one and he’s too fucking old to be anybody's jealous boyfriend.

A bad day for McCoy and the Enterprise leads him to break a promise to himself about his best friend.

The first time, Jim’s straddled above him and writhing, arms trembling either side of McCoy’s waist.

"How about this: you're ten kinds of a mess, chasing every set of legs in skirts or pants all over campus, you probably have twelve different diseases that haven't been diagnosed yet and I don't even need to count the ones that have, and you're a self-absorbed, emotionally stunted asshole who falls in and out of bed with someone new on a daily basis, if not hourly."

I can't tell from Spock, hobgoblin physiology being screwy and all, but the captain seems to be about six. Guessing that they've both lost the same number of years, Spock must be about the same.

This -- keeping his feelings to himself, which is where they belong -- would be a lot easier if Jim weren't so fucking smart.

The medical bay on the Enterprise is, like the rest of the ship, state-of-the-art. Its walls and floor and ceiling are a brilliant, oddly-cool white, and the chrome instrumentation by every bed and lining much of the wall-space gleams beautifully under the overhead fluorescents. The beds are soft and clean enough to keep any waylaid crew member at least comfortable, and the facilities are so well-equipped and up-to-date that any medical professional would likely make several killings just for a chance to touch them, let alone work with them. Ordinarily, Leonard McCoy would be beyond proud (and rather self-satisfied, if he may say so himself) of being able to call this beauty of a clinic his.

If there were ever a definition of too much of a good thing, Spock showing up in his office with a second Jim Kirk while the first one was licking his swollen lips and grinning like a demon.

When you're five, you're running down the street with your father, and skin your knees on the sidewalk. Your father surveys the damage and you're trying not to cry, because whenever your father sees other children bawling over something like that he first tells you how useless crying is, how it doesn't make the pain go away and doesn't make the scrape heal, before going over and offering a bandage with a kind smile.

Jim was using him. Perhaps it was that he was so used to seeing the physical effects of blatant cruelty that it hurt as much as it did when his rose-colored glasses were ripped suddenly away.

James T. Kirk doesn't get passionate about something unless it has breasts. Leonard McCoy knows this. And then something changes.

"He's two hundred years old and tired, Jim," Bones answered sarcastically. "I'm surprised he hasn't broken down before this."

Bones didn't notice anything unusual for the first twenty-four hours after they passed through the ion storm. There were the usual lingering headaches and dizzy spells, but that was to be expected and was nothing out of the ordinary. So when he arrived on the bridge the next day and was immediately bombarded by a barrage of chatter that seemed to be being transmitted directly into his skull, his first thought was that he had suddenly gone batshit insane and was hearing voices.

He was the Senior Medical officer on the Starfleet Flagship and that was true, but he was also a maudlin old man who was drinking the most expensive brandy he could afford with the same grace as the boys back home would swill backwoods moonshine. And he was drinking it alone.

Strip chess is a dangerous game, even if Jim Kirk isn't technically playing. (aka Green-blooded hobgoblins need love too, or maybe they need lessons in sexual deviance from a captain who really cares about developing his officers' characters, but Dr McCoy really didn't need any of this. Really.)

"Can the most famous film star in the world fall for just an ordinary guy?"

McCoy knew that he had issues, he didn’t have to mull them over every other second to make sure they were still there.

McCoy has always lamented Jim's poor impulse control.

It makes a little more sense, now, to McCoy. He’s only just been kidnapped by motherfucking space pirates, and, no, not just any pirates. That would be too mundane. He’s been kidnapped by the most infamous captain of all the little gangs that fly around in uncharted space, sticking their tongues out at the Federation, because that’s just how McCoy rolls, apparently.

McCoy got full custody of Joanna. Jim ran away from Starfleet. They meet in a barn in Georgia and life goes on.

McCoy’s been an agent for a long time, and a young, cocky, obnoxious new partner is exactly what he doesn’t need, dammit.

When he says she got the planet in the divorce, he means it.

Leonard McCoy wouldn’t have said that he was happy, but he was content with being blind until Jim Kirk came along and threw up on him.

Should he tell Chekov that Kirk and Spock were living together? Chekov could keep his mouth shut, but -- no, this was one of those things that was too good to keep to himself and too fucking insane to tell anyone, even his best friend. If Chekov found out on his own, then they'd scream about it and never tell anyone; yet if Spock was being moved into Kirk's room in the middle of the night, the chances of their going public any time soon were fucking slim, if existent at all.

"Oh, my God, you’ve fallen off the wagon into the seedy underbelly and started selling yourself to pay tuition."