Fic: Routines, 1/1. Kirk/McCoy, Joanna.
Aug. 7th, 2009 11:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katydidmischief posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
cjs_owndisclaimer. Not mine. Never have been and I'll only ever be playing in the sandbox.
title. Routines
rating. PG
pairing. Kirk/McCoy, established.
summary. his lover was amazing, seriously.
warning. Secondary Character Death.
notes. Written for this prompt atst_xi_kink.
All her things were destroyed in the attack so when they first brought her aboard, little Joanna, six-years-old and always smiling, had worn clothing fashioned from extra shirts and bibs from napkins. She slept in snatches, blue eyes closing when her daddy spoke and Jim had sacrificed his own bed to father and daughter.
Bones had told him to crawl in on Joanna's other side, to stop being a drama queen, but Joanna had just lost her mother and had not seen Bones in more than a year - she had to be confused. He didn't know what she understood and what was beyond her unfortunately damaged mind, and he refused to upset the girl by waking up in bed with her.
"She has to get used it, Jim," Bones told him one afternoon a few days later. "Her routine's been blown to hell anyway and I don't want you sleeping on the goddamn couch until we figure out what to do about a bed for her."
The argument was interrupted by the smack of a hand and a wet sound - Joanna was giggling and pursing her lips a the same time, bouncing in her padded wheelchair happily. The bib they'd made her from a pilfered dishtowel was speckled with pureed sweet potato and noodle remnants from the handful she'd grabbed in a fist earlier.
"All right, baby girl," he murmured, the corners of his lips upturned, and spooned up another bite of potato. He fed it to her like had when she'd first started on solids, and Jim felt his heart swell and twist; his lover was amazing, seriously.
title. Routines
rating. PG
pairing. Kirk/McCoy, established.
summary. his lover was amazing, seriously.
warning. Secondary Character Death.
notes. Written for this prompt at
st_xi_kink.All her things were destroyed in the attack so when they first brought her aboard, little Joanna, six-years-old and always smiling, had worn clothing fashioned from extra shirts and bibs from napkins. She slept in snatches, blue eyes closing when her daddy spoke and Jim had sacrificed his own bed to father and daughter.
Bones had told him to crawl in on Joanna's other side, to stop being a drama queen, but Joanna had just lost her mother and had not seen Bones in more than a year - she had to be confused. He didn't know what she understood and what was beyond her unfortunately damaged mind, and he refused to upset the girl by waking up in bed with her.
"She has to get used it, Jim," Bones told him one afternoon a few days later. "Her routine's been blown to hell anyway and I don't want you sleeping on the goddamn couch until we figure out what to do about a bed for her."
The argument was interrupted by the smack of a hand and a wet sound - Joanna was giggling and pursing her lips a the same time, bouncing in her padded wheelchair happily. The bib they'd made her from a pilfered dishtowel was speckled with pureed sweet potato and noodle remnants from the handful she'd grabbed in a fist earlier.
"All right, baby girl," he murmured, the corners of his lips upturned, and spooned up another bite of potato. He fed it to her like had when she'd first started on solids, and Jim felt his heart swell and twist; his lover was amazing, seriously.
