Lessons: Epilogue

_______________________

"You know, Bones, for a surgeon you make a pretty fair shrink."

"I guess I'll take that as a compliment." McCoy took a small measure of satisfaction in the fact that Jim had been diligent about their counseling sessions. After the first one, he'd moved the venue to more comfortable – and more neutral – settings, such as the observation lounge where they were now seated.

At some level, the sessions were tougher on him than on Jim. It had been incredibly difficult to find the right balance between talking to Jim as a friend and counseling him as the CMO. For any number of reasons, he really didn't want to probe too deeply into Jim's childhood and psychological history. Instead, he tried to focus on the present, on helping Jim develop appropriate outlets for his occasional frustration, anger, and grief.

He often thought about contacting his favorite psychiatrist – the one he'd chosen for his own psych eval – for help in dealing with Jim, and always decided against it. Dougherty might be forced to report the consult and that could end up in Jim's permanent records. McCoy was confident that Jim didn't have a deep psychological problem. The real problem was that Jim was a 25-year-old, first-time starship captain who was being forced to grow up and grow into his new role far too quickly.

McCoy tried to keep the "counseling sessions" more like a conversation between friends. They'd usually talk about crewmembers with various issues – medical, performance, personal. As CMO, McCoy was already privy to much of this information and, as an officer outside of the chain of command, could provide a good sounding board for the new captain in terms of decisions to make, actions to take, and dealing with the emotions that came along with those choices. Over time, it seemed that Jim began to appreciate the benefits of having someone with whom to share the burdens of command. For reasons McCoy clearly understood, Jim would never open himself completely, but he did seem more relaxed and at ease even when discussing difficult issues.

"Hard to believe it's been three months," Jim said, holding up his Synthol martini.

Synthol was supposed to look and taste just like alcohol but without the buzz. Of course, in McCoy's view, the entire purpose of drinking alcohol was to get buzzed. And, in his view, Synthol tasted like gasoline. Nonetheless, he'd agreed to join Jim for a drink of the stuff.

He raised his glass as if to toast. "Here's to making it halfway through the first mission – successfully and without any casualties. Well done, Jim."

Jim touched his glass with his own and then took a long sip. How could Jim stand to drink that stuff?

"It's not all me, Bones. You know that. Sometimes I think I don't . . . let's just say that I get a lot of help from Spock and Scotty and the bridge crew. And even you, when you aren't threatening me with those damn hypos."

"You're supposed to have help, Jim."

"Yeah, but this crew is so good that they make me look good."

"That's the idea, Captain." He put down his glass. "Jim, I don't need to tell you that even the best crew is only as good as its leader, and its leader is only as good as the worst members of his crew."

Jim laughed and shook his head in amazement. "They teach you that crap at the Academy?"

McCoy kept his own expression serious. "It's true. You've done a lot in the past three months, Jim. More than anyone could have expected and, quite honestly, more than those admirals who gave you this command had any right to expect."

"There are still three months left on this mission. I just want to bring everyone home safely."

"If anyone can, it'll be you." He looked at his chronograph. "Speaking of which, we better get moving or we'll be late for the hump day party."

Inside Rec Room 1, they were greeted with the sights and sounds of a celebration in full swing. Several of the crew had organized the event to mark "hump day" – the halfway point of their mission. Real alcohol would be served for those crewmembers not on duty. Which, McCoy thought ruefully, meant a lot of drunk crewmembers, which in turn meant a bunch of stupid mishaps, which meant a busy night and morning in the medical bay, which was one reason he'd stick to the Synthol that he hated with a passion.

Jim broke away and started to make his way toward the front of the room where he'd be expected to say a few words. He moved through the crowd like a politician, McCoy thought to himself, shaking hands, making eye contact, saying the right words. Jim might have his flaws but he was a natural at this.

McCoy hung back, staking out a position near the rear of the room. He'd never been one for big parties – of course, Jocelyn had loved them. Damn, he hadn't wanted to think about her tonight. Hadn't wanted to remind himself that here he was, already in his thirties, divorced and alone in the middle of space, sipping god-awful Synthol.

"Doctor, would you care for some m'baazi?" Uhura had sidled up to him, a platter filled with appetizers and a wonderful aroma in hand. "It's a traditional African dish. I can't vouch for the cooking, but it is my recipe."

McCoy smiled down at her. "I'd love one, or maybe even two." After only one bite, he decided that the combination of beans and pepper and whatever else was quite tasty.

She looked around and, apparently satisfied they were out of earshot of the other party-goers, turned back to him. "You know, Doctor, I don't think I ever thanked you for everything that you've done – for me and for Spock."

"No need to thank me; just doing my job."

"No, Doctor, you did much more than your job – for both of us. I'm eternally grateful and I know Spock is as well, even if he's too stubborn to admit it."

He was sure he was blushing and tried to cover it by shoving another appetizer into his mouth. His eyes roamed the room. "Where is our first officer?"

"He claimed that events such as this are, and I quote, 'a waste of time that could better be spent on more productive activities.'" Her eyes twinkled. "However, I'm pretty sure he'll show up."

Almost immediately, Sulu approached them. "Good evening, Nyota, Doctor." Uhura took advantage of the opportunity to unload a few more of her appetizers on the helmsman.

"Hey Doc," Sulu said between bites, "thought I'd tell you that I'm starting a cycling club onboard. The Captain's given his permission for me to order a couple of bicycles and Mr. Scott said he can modify the jogging track in Rec Room 3. I'm looking for members. Want to join in a real sport?"

Sulu couldn't be serious. He was supposed to learn to ride a bicycle? At his age? Oh well, he'd signed up for adventure. "I know I'm going to regret this, but count me in."

"Don't worry, Doc. It'll be fun. Besides, you'll be Johnny on the spot if anyone falls off."

McCoy raised an eyebrow. "The one most likely to be falling off will be me."

He was left alone for only a minute when Scotty came up to him, glass in hand. McCoy was certain that, as always, it contained real Scotch. "Sure I can't get you one of these?" the engineer asked, nodding at his glass.

Yeah, I'd love a double right now. "No thanks. I'll need a clear head do deal with the after-effects of this party."

"Well, I'll do my best to stay healthy. Once under your knife was more than enough."

He tried to keep a straight face. "You're welcome."

Scotty looked embarrassed. "Aye, Doctor, I guess I should have thanked you properly. Were it not for you, they'd probably be sending me back to Delta Vega right about now. I should have trusted you from the git-go. I feel badly about that." He took a sip from his glass and held it up in a mock toast. "You're okay. And if there's ever anything you need from me—"

"Just take care of yourself so I don't have to cut you open again."

"I'll be sure to do that."

There was a tinkling of glasses and an announcement that the captain was about to speak. McCoy leaned against the back wall, less interested in Jim's words than in the reaction to them.

Jim started by thanking the crewmembers who'd organized the party. After the applause died down, he turned more serious. "Congratulations to everyone on making it to the halfway point of our mission." There were a few more cheers and clinking of glasses.

"Not only have we successfully completed everything Starfleet has asked us to do, but we've done it without losing a single crewmember. Each of you has a part in that accomplishment and it's one I hope we can continue until the end of our mission."

McCoy sensed a presence and turned to find Spock had joined him. "He's good, isn't he," McCoy whispered, nodding toward where Jim was still speaking.

"I must acknowledge that the Captain has been more . . . effective than I had anticipated."

"I would say you've played a role in that effectiveness, Mr. Spock."

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "Indeed, Doctor?"

In the distance, Jim finished his remarks, the crew applauded, and the music started up again.

"You two make a good team."

"I still think the Captain does not fully trust me."

"After you marooned him on Delta Vega, can you blame him?" He was rewarded with another raised eyebrow. "Seriously, Spock, you've only known each other a few months. Give him time, give yourself time. It's worth it."

"As is your advice, Doctor."

Well, damn if the pointy-eared bastard hadn't just paid him a compliment. He might have to haul Spock in for a medical check just to make sure the man wasn't losing it. He smiled to himself. Or, maybe stop calling him a bastard. Before he had a chance to respond, the Vulcan was gone.

McCoy took another sip of the Synthol as he looked out among the assembled crew. For this brief moment in the midst of exploration, adventure, and even danger, the men and women surrounding him were happy and carefree.

And, he realized, they were no longer simply his colleagues or even his patients. They were now, more than anything, his friends.

~End~

___________________

So here ends my little saga. Thanks again to my great beta Ceri, who is always a wonderful source of encouragement and advice.

Thanks also to all of you who've taken the time to review/comment. I write first and foremost because I enjoy doing so but it really means a lot to know that others are reading and enjoying my work as well.

As I've already told some of you, I'm working on a new story. It'll be a "prequel" set at the Academy and will almost exclusively feature Kirk & McCoy. Lots of hurt Jim, of course, but I promise it won't be all barfights and fisticuffs. :) Look for it in a couple of months.