Chapter Text
"Was it horrible, Jojo?"
Joanna looked at her father's worried face, then past him to the sterile, brightly lit little room, so different from the crowded one she'd just left. I made it, she thought. I'm on the transporter bay on the Enterprise.
"Most people just say hi," she said and stepped down, holding up her arms for a hug.
Daddy pulled her close, continuing, "I hate that machine. "Are you sick? It makes some people sick."
Still wrapped in father's embrace, Joanna considered. She felt a little odd but not sick. "I'm fine," she assured him. "I told you not to worry about me."
Daddy rubbed her hair and muttered, "That's impossible." He sighed, held her out at arm's length, took a good look at her, and said, "Hello, sugar. I'm glad you're here."
"Me too," Joanna replied. Of course, I am, she thought, starting a visit is never the problem.
"I don't like shuttles either," Her father grumbled, "but at least they don't scramble your atoms. If there were an elevator to the ship, I'd take it. Hell, I'd climb a rope ladder if it meant no transporters."
Two red-shirted men stepped from behind the divider that separated the pad from what she assumed were the controls.
"Is this Miss Joanna McCoy?" asked the older one. He was a friendly-looking man with a big grin and some sort of accent.
"It is," her father said happily, slipping an arm over her shoulder. "Jojo, this is Lieutenant Commander Scott, and this is Lieutenant Kyle. They run the transporter, so you owe them your life."
Stop fussing about the transporter, Joanna thought, but only smiled and said, "I am so glad to meet you, Lieutenant Commander, Lieutenant."
"We've heard a lot about you," Mr. Scott said.
I bet, Joanna thought but continued to smile and nodded in what she hoped was a pleasant way.
"Your father is very proud," Mr. Kyle said. He was taller than the older man and also had an accent, but not the same one.
"Especially about your schooling, he tells us you're quite a scholar," Mr. Scott added.
Please don't discuss college, Joanna thought, stretching her smile a little wider.
"She's leaning toward Tech," her father said proudly.
"They don't want to hear about that now, Daddy."
"Isn't that where you went, Len?" asked Scott.
Daddy nodded, "And all her grandparents. Jojo's a legacy."
"She could do worse," Mr. Scott said.
The other man nodded serenely.
"I'd love to stand here and listen to your compliments," Daddy said, "but we have a busy evening planned. I'm gonna show off the medical bay and then have dinner in the mess. I wanted to take her somewhere nicer, but she insists we eat here."
Mr. Scott said sharply, "Why wouldn't she? The Enterprise is a beautiful ship, and in a few more days, it will be impossible to get this kind of access to her."
"She'll want to see where her father will be living," added Mr. Kyle.
Nodding, Mr. Scott said, "We'll let you get to it. Enjoy your evening, Miss McCoy."
She had to stop smiling to speak. Just as well, her lips were getting numb. "Thank you; I am sure I shall. But please, call me Joanna."
"Joanna," the officers echoed.
Her father asked, "Shall we go, Jojo?"
He never listens! she thought fiercely but stuck to the plan and said, "Yes, Daddy." She smiled again and said, "I enjoyed meeting you, gentlemen."
The two officers nodded. As Joanna walked away, she heard the younger one say, "Beautiful manners for such a young girl." She wanted to groan but instead concentrated on walking in her heels.
They made it to the medical unit without meeting anyone. That was an advantage of seeing Daddy before his starship was recommissioned she hadn't anticipated; so many people were on leave that she had far fewer to greet.
Unfortunately, the medical division was better staffed. Daddy, gripping her hand like a toddler's, introduced her to what seemed like a hundred people. Joanna reminded herself that the plan called for pretending interest in her father's co-workers, but when her father mentioned her grades to some techs, she gave up and fled to his office, hot with irritation.
Daddy followed quickly. He showed the room off proudly, although Joanna found it small and blandly furnished, just like everywhere else on the ship. Behind the desk, there was a small shelf containing antique books. Daddy pulled one down and handed it to her.
"Do you remember these?" he asked.
"I'm sorry. I don't." She did, though. She had seen them some time but couldn't recall where.
"These are your great-great grandfather's medical texts. My father gave them to me; someday, I'll give them to you."
"Maybe," Joanna's stomach tightened as it always did when Daddy mentioned her future in medicine.
Daddy continued, "They were in the living room at Memaw and Pappy's when you were little. You used to love to sit on his lap and look at the pictures. I remember you used to say, 'What is that smell, Pappy,' and he would say, 'that's knowledge, baby.'"
Joanna grimaced and said, "Seriously? We sound like the rough draft of a Faulkner novel." She ran a finger over the binding, looked up, and asked, "What's this?"
Daddy sighed. "That's leather, sugar. That's why they've lasted so long."
"Real leather, skin from animals?" Joanna asked.
Her father nodded wearily.
Joanna said, "Gross. Pappy should have said the smell was death." She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. "Or maybe wet paper. It smells like that too."
Her father took the book and carefully set it back on the shelf, reaching past a framed holo on the desk. It was of Joanna, taken before she'd had her teeth straightened. She frowned at it and flipped the frame down.
"That's awful. I'll ask Mama to send you something a little more recent."
"I've got others. I like that one. It's from that summer I took you canoeing."
"I don't remember."
"Sure you do. We camped and fished for a week. You had a great time, ran around all week in the same clothes. Your mother had a fit when I brought you home. You were such a cute little thing, so feisty."
"Feisty like a squirrel maybe," she said. "Look at that mouth."
Daddy set the frame back up, gazing pensively at the image. Guilt clawed at her, and Joanna was careful to sound cheerful when she asked, "Do you want to eat?"
"Sure," Daddy replied quietly. "That sounds great."
To make up for the squirrel comment, Joanna greeted every nurse they met on the way out of the medical unit. It slowed them down, but Daddy's mood improved.
They were in the waiting area just inside the exit when her father's communicator beeped. He took a quick look, frowned, and said, "Wait here a minute, Jojo, I need to figure out who's on call," and walked quickly back to the inner parts of the unit.
"Of course you do," Joanna muttered angrily. She collapsed grumpily onto a chair near the admitting desk, pulling her throbbing feet under her.
Half an hour later, a willowy blonde stepped through the unit doors. The woman, dressed in a nurse's uniform, looked around the room as if she wanted to be sure Joanna, the only occupant, was who she wanted, then asked, "Are you Dr. McCoy's daughter?"
"Yes, ma'am," Joanna said, rising stiffly.
The nurse nodded. "I'm Christine Chapel. There's been an accident, and Dr. McCoy will be busy for several hours. He wanted you to know."
Well, that was fast, Joanna thought, least now I can get out of these heels. "Thanks," she said. "Tell Daddy I'll go on back to my hotel. He can call me tomorrow."
"We've decided," the nurse continued. "that I'll take you to dinner and start your tour. You two can pick up where you left off when he finishes."
"Oh," Joanna said unenthusiastically, "No, I couldn't ask you to..."
"Your father," Miss Chapel insisted, "is looking forward to spending time with you. We wouldn't want to disappoint him. There's a turbolift through here." The doors to the unit slid open, and the tall woman went through them, clearly expecting to be followed. Sighing, Joanna did.
In the turbolift, the woman checked her PADD, frowned, wrote a few lines, and then seemed to remember Joanna. She said, "So, Jojo."
"I prefer Joanna," she said quickly.
"Fine. So, Joanna, Leonard tells me you're looking at Georgia Tech."
"I haven't really finalized that decision."
"Oh, I thought Leonard said, well, I guess I misunderstood. You still have some high school left."
"More than a year," Joanna agreed.
"Still, you're making plans. Will you be studying medicine? I know you have quite a family history of medical studies."
"My father and great grandfather were physicians; my grandfather was a veterinarian."
"Still, that's medical. I know your father would love to see another generation of McCoys in medicine."
"We wouldn't want to disappoint him." Joanna quoted, as pleasantly as she was able. The blonde woman looked at her speculatively. Joanna knew to stay in character she should share a sugar-sweet smile but couldn't quite manage it.
They approached the replicators. Miss Chapel pressed some buttons and was quickly presented with a salad. "Shall I order one for you?" she asked, lifting down her plate.
"I'll do it," Joanna replied. "Which one shows the options?"
"It will be much faster for me to do it," Miss Chapel said firmly. "What would you like?"
Joanna scowled. She knew her father wouldn't want her to argue with his friend, but using a replicator was the only reason she'd wanted to eat on the ship. Frustrated, she said, "I'll take French fries."
"This is dinner," Miss Chapel said.
"Yes," Joanna agreed, "You're right. Give me two orders of French fries."
Lips tight, Lieutenant Chapel placed the order and, when they appeared, handed the plate to Joanna. Her expression didn't change as she led Joanna to a table.
Once they were seated, Miss Chapel said, "Your father is a proponent of defensive medicine. I'm not certain he'd approve of your meal."
"Well, then he should have come to dinner and told me so himself," Joanna said, careful to keep her tone polite. The blonde woman's eyebrows skyrocketed in surprise. Joanna felt invigorated enough to smile angelically.
Chapel said, "I sense you're disappointed, but your father will join you as soon as he can. He is looking forward to spending the evening with you."
Joanna rolled a fry into some ketchup. The nurse continued, "Everyone who was aboard the Enterprise for the battle of Nero admires Dr. McCoy. He saved dozens of lives that day and has continued to work just as hard since. I wish you could have seen how pleased he was when you decided to visit."
"Honestly," Joanna said as she reached for another fry, "It was my mama's idea."
"She wanted you to spend time with your father before the Enterprise sails," Miss Chapel said approvingly.
"Or," Joanna replied, "she figured me visiting would give her a reasonable excuse to mention her relationship with Daddy down at the club. She's been eager to do that since he became such a hero and all."
It took a few seconds for Miss Chapel to reply, "Dr. McCoy has always been a hero. He truly puts the needs of the patients before his own."
"I can't argue with you there," Joanna said, grabbing another fry, "I have never known him not to put the patient's needs first, not even once. Not one single, itty bitty time." She jabbed at the ketchup with every syllable until the potato tore in half.
Before she could reply, both Miss Chapel's PADD and communicator pinged. The nurse jumped up and began to murmur into the comm. She frowned, then nodded, and her eyes darted about the room, searching for something. Closing her comm, she called, "Excuse me a moment, Joanna," as she began walking purposely away.
Is she leaving? Joanna wondered, did I insult her? She leaned out over the table to watch. With so few of the crew aboard, the cavernous mess was nearly empty. Miss Chapel hurried past the few occupied tables toward the opposite wall and a small table in the corner.
Miss Chapel spoke animatedly, gesturing towards Joanna, then turned abruptly and started back. The table's solitary occupant rose, revealing itself as a human male. He followed Miss Chapel slowly, radiating unwillingness.
The nurse was talking before she even reached the table. "Joanna, I'm sorry, but things are getting out of hand in the unit. We aren't fully staffed yet. One of the mechanics working up here is injured and requires immediate surgery. Your father needs my help."
"Every itty bitty time," Joanna muttered, then said, "I'm going back to the hotel. Tell Daddy to comm me tomorrow."
Miss Chapel shook her head. "No, no, your father will finish in a few hours. In the meantime, this young man will help us out." She reached back and grabbed the officer's arm, pulling him forward.
He was smaller than Miss Chapel. His hair was darker blond, but he was nearly as fair. That's not a man, Joanna thought, that's a boy. He stared sulkily over Joanna's head as the nurse said, "Ensign Chekov is excited to give you a tour."
"It isn't necessary," Joanna began again.
"It's no trouble," Miss Chapel said. "He's looking forward to it. Aren't you?' She turned to the young man. "Aren't you?" she said again, a little more firmly.
He muttered, "Yes, ma'am," unenthusiastically.
"I'm sure you have plenty of other things," Joanna began.
"He's got nothing else to do, and he's very pleased to be able to help," Miss Chapel said. The young man glanced resentfully at the nurse. She continued, "He knows the ship very well. He'll give you a thorough tour." She turned to the young man and said, "Right?"
The young man again said, "Yes, ma'am," without looking directly at either of them.
Satisfied, the older woman said, "I'll let you two get acquainted," and gave the young man's shoulder a firm tap. He slumped sulkily onto the bench opposite Joanna.
Miss Chapel started to go but turned back and said, "You understand who she is?"
"Yes, ma'am," The young man said politely, rolling his eyes as he spoke. Miss Chapel was behind him and couldn't see, but Joanna did. Delighted, she snickered. Realized his mistake, panicked green eyes met hers. Feeling powerful, Joanna raised a mocking eyebrow.
Above them, the nurse continued to talk, "I know you must be very disappointed, Jojo. I hope ..." She was interrupted by another round of frantic pings from her communicator. She said, "I've got to run. I'll call when we're finished." She had her communicator out before she was off the dining floor.
"Not disappointed, and don't call me Jojo," Joanna told the empty air where the nurse had stood. The young man looked at her questioningly. She felt herself blush and said, "I told her I preferred Joanna. I hate when people ask a question and then don't even listen to your answer."
The young man sighed and nodded. He said, "That, I know about." He had a heavy accent. Joanna wasn't sure what kind. She was too annoyed to listen closely anyway.
"I wanted to go back to the hotel, but she dragged me down here. Then, she tried to lecture me on how grateful I should be to see my father. She even commented on what I was eating. It was so rude." Joanna angrily shoved her plate away. It skidded across the table; the young man grabbed it before it fell, covering his hand in her ketchup.
Joanna's voice grew shriller, "She was all over me in one of those fake jokey voices old people use when they know they are totally out of line but are going to say it anyway. You know what I mean, right? Of course, once she figured out I'm not a member of the All-Praise-to-Leonard McCoy-Party, she couldn't get out of here fast enough."
"Do you have a napkin?" the young man asked.
Joanna tossed hers in his direction. "I never wanted her company in the first place. I don't even get why she appointed herself my companion. There's no reason for her to be interested in me, unless..." She had a sudden, horrible idea. She reached across the table and clutched the boy's arm. "Please tell me she isn't his girlfriend."
The unexpected movement jarred his hand, smearing ketchup onto his gold uniform top. Frowning, the young man dabbed at it and said, "They would be unlikely to discuss something like that with me, Miss McCoy."
She dropped his arm and frowned, "Didn't you hear me say I prefer Joanna?"
After a hesitation, he nodded again. Joanna wondered if maybe he wasn't very bright. She continued a little more calmly, "I'm sorry she involved you in all this. That's not fair. What are you, some kind of boy scout or something?"
The boy drew himself up. "I am an officer of Starfleet," he said, holding out his arm.
A small amount of braid sparkled on his gold shirt sleeve. Joanna studied it doubtfully. "Sure," she said, "cause Starfleet takes twelve-year-olds now."
He flushed angrily. He leaned closer, jaw tight. "And you?" he asked. "How did you come to be on the ship? Did you win a tour at the county fair? Perhaps your pig was exceptional?"
Joanna's mouth fell open. "I beg your pardon," she sputtered. "I was invited by my father. Maybe you've heard of Dr. Leonard McCoy, the hero of the Nero invasion?"
The boy gave her a contemptuous look. Ugh, she thought, I sound like Mama bragging to the neighbors. She said quickly, "I mean one of the heroes; there were lots. He's not the only one, but he's one of them."
"I know about Nero," the boy retorted.
"Yeah, 'cause you're an officer," Joanna snapped.
"Yes," he said, so firmly that Joanna knew he was telling the truth.
Nero probably didn't leave them much to choose from, she thought. I should apologize. Instead, she said, "I believe officers are supposed to listen when someone talks to them!"
"Yes, ma'am," he said with mock respect.
Joanna narrowed her eyes and said slowly, "Are you deaf? I said..."
He interrupted her, "Okay, okay, Joanna. I will call you Joanna."
"Thank you," she said, leaning back in her chair. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" He stared at her stonily and didn't reply.
"Listen," she said, a little more kindly, "take me to the transport room, and I'll find my way home."
"No," he replied, shaking his head.
"You don't have to give me a tour."
"Yes, I do," he said firmly.
Her anger flared again. "I just said that you didn't."
"Miss Chapel is a full lieutenant. I am an ensign. She told me what she expects, and I must do it."
Joanna asked contemptuously, "Do you always do exactly what you're told?"
He gave her an exasperated look. "That," he said, "is how Starfleet works."
Joanna curled her lip and said, "God, you're unbelievable! Is everyone on this ship arrogant?"
He drew back as if she'd struck him. Joanna was too irritated to care. "Seriously," she asked. "Is there some kind of test, and they only let in the top ten biggest assholes? Listen, I don't need Starfleet explained; it's simple. I understand it perfectly. Now here's a simple idea for you: I don't want a tour."
Jaw set, he said, "If you understand Starfleet, you know I won't disregard orders."
This guy, Joanna decided, is too dumb to argue with. "Fine," she said, "You win. We'll go on a tour."
"Thank you," the boy said, sounding genuinely relieved. He pushed the plate of fries back toward her. "Finish your meal," he said, "there's no hurry."
She wasn't hungry, but Joanna ate a few fries and took a good look at the boy. He's stupid and kind of skinny, but I like his hair, she decided. I'm not sure how old, maybe a junior or senior? So, not that much older than me. At least he's not too tall. She didn't care to be towered over; she believed it made people feel like they could figuratively talk down to her also.
"Yes?" the boy asked.
Joanna realized she had been staring at him for several seconds. Embarrassed, she nodded at the plate. "Help yourself," she said quickly. He surprised her by taking several. "There's ketchup," she added.
"I have some," the boy said, glancing at the stain on his shirt. Joanna flushed. He dipped a fry in the condiment and added, "That was a joke."
"And you made it without being ordered," Joanna muttered. "Good for you." She was a little chagrined by how ungracious it sounded once the comment left her mouth, but the boy gave her an amused look and took a few more fries.
He ended up eating the lion's share. When the plate was empty, he smiled broadly and, sounding very cheerful, said, "I feel better. Shall we go?"
"All it takes to improve your mood is potatoes?" Joanna asked sarcastically.
He wrinkled his forehead as if he were considering the question seriously. Finally, "Yes," he said, "definitely potatoes. Thank you for them, and thank you for agreeing to come on a tour. If I were to stop obeying orders, Miss Chapel would not be my first choice of who to provoke."
Despite herself, Joanna's lips twitched. "She does seem like the grudge keeper type," she acknowledged.
"It probably will not matter," he added. "I will do something wrong. When she is involved, I always do."
Joanna shrugged. "At least it'll be interesting to see how you mess up," she said.
He shot her another amused glance before standing up and gesturing dramatically toward the turbolifts. Not to be outdone, Joanna rose and curtsied, then followed him out of the cafeteria.
On the way to the lifts, he began to recite in a sing-song voice, "The Enterprise is a constitution class starship. The High Council of the United Federation of Planets provided funding for the line as part of the," he paused and looked at her. "You do not wish to hear this?"
"I am hanging on your every word," Joanna replied. "It's desperately important to me that you feel useful and Miss Chapel feels happy. Please, continue."
Instead, he waited.
"You want the truth?" she asked.
He nodded.
"Fine," she said. "No, I am not interested. I mean, why would I be? I get it. It's a starship, so what? Maybe it is interesting to you since you live on it."
"No," he said with a sigh, "it is not interesting ever, but it is required of ensigns to memorize the ship's history."
"Seriously?"
He nodded, "I must be able to recite it whenever asked."
"Like anyone ever would."
He shrugged.
The lift doors opened. The boy gestured toward the open lift then politely followed Joanna inside. He murmured instructions, and the unit began to travel smoothly upward. After a few seconds, Joanna blurted, "Are you saying that there are people in the universe who want to hear you recite the history of this ship?"
"Occasionally," he agreed.
"Who?" she asked.
The boy shrugged, "Usually command track lieutenants."
"If they're lieutenants, shouldn't they already know it?" Joanna asked.
"They aren't seeking information." He looked at her like he expected her to understand. When Joanna shook her head, he explained, "It takes twenty minutes to recite the entire history. If we are in the mess, and it is a short break, I might not have time to eat."
"They just do it because they can?" Joanna frowned, "Is that supposed to be funny?" When he didn't reply, she muttered, "I really don't get why anyone would join Starfleet."
"Not for the food," the boy said. "So, being denied is not so bad."
Joanna scowled, annoyed. He smiled and said, "That was..."
"A joke," she finished for him, "but not funny. You should be madder about this."
He said mildly. "Alright, no history. We will start with the hangar decks unless there is something you would prefer to see first?"
The turbolift lurched right. Joanna grabbed the railing that ran along the metal wall and said, "I don't care. My father and I toured the fleet when he was at the academy. I thought it was boring then, and I sure don't want a tour now. But I don't want to get you in trouble, so you go ahead. Take me wherever you want. I'll listen."
The ensign gave her a speculative, sideways glance. He said, "Perhaps I could show you the interesting parts only?"
"There are interesting parts?" she asked.
"I could show you two or maybe three of my favorite things about this ship. Would that be better?"
"It can't possibly be worse."
"That is what we will do," he agreed. He called to the turbolift, "Stop, recalculate. Deck twelve center." The machine stopped, then began to move in a new direction.
The young man cleared his throat and said, "Miss, uh, Joanna, could you not mention this alteration of her plan to Miss Chapel?"
"Oo," she teased, "What is it exactly you're afraid the human icicle would do to you?"
Rather than answer directly, he said, "I am not asking you to lie."
The turbolift jerked to a stop. The door whooshed open to what appeared to be miles of gleaming hallways. "Your secret's safe with me," Joanna sighed. "Lead on."