He wasn't supposed to have favourite patients as a doctor; he was supposed to keep the hypocratic oath and provide bedside manner, but never get too involved. His job was too high maintenance for that. It was what his residency had drilled into him at the New York Presbyterian Hospital, but here he was, a real, qualified doctor at the San Francisco General, with a favourite patient.

But, Doctor Leonard McCoy mused as he strolled through the halls, because the woman had never been treated by him, and had certainly never done anything to be awarded special consideration, was it really so terrible that he had taken a liking to this enigmatic patient? She had been at the hospital for little over a year; long enough for McCoy to decide that he was fond of her, regardless of his propriety or her illness.

"Doctor McCoy?" Ah, there was her nurse. Nurse Montgomery Scott was one of the kindest men in the hospital and had, despite McCoy's miserable demeanour and coarse outlook on life, become a friend to the doctor, not to mention an ally in relation to his priority patient. There were often disputes on the board as to whether the woman should be kept in the hospital, and only a few doctors and nurses stood up for their patient to tip the majority vote, led by McCoy and Scott. The staff who voted in favour of retaining her tended to be people who had interacted with her, had experienced the aura of charisma she exuded.

"Nurse Scott, how may I help you this morning? Is there anything I should know?" The same question was asked every day as the tall, striking doctor made his way to check on the petite woman before starting his rounds.

"No real change, sir. And for the love of god, it's Scotty! You know that by now." The perpetually grumbling yet oddly friendly Scotsman chided, hurrying to keep up with the New Yorker's brisk strides. He had been late this morning, and he evidently didn't want to lose time with their mysterious patient.

"No real change, Scotty?" As the words registered in McCoy's head, he almost stopped. "You never say no real change. Tell me more; anything is gold dust in this case. Don't leave a single detail out, god damnit man! I'm a doctor, not a psychic!"

"There was a flicker of activity on the neural scanner. It wasn't too big, and I wouldn't have caught it if I hadn't been changing the IV line, but it was there. Here," Scotty handed his friend the chart, knowing that the doctor was more than capable of deciding their course of action, and trusted the man's judgement implicitly.

"Get a team together, Scotty, we need the best this hospital has to offer. I want Pike, Spock, Uhura, I want everyone who ever voted to keep her here and then some. We're going in." Doctor McCoy smiled at the chart, finally able to present evidence to the board that the operation would prove successful, and it would; he had succeeded in getting the surgeon responsible for his woman's condition fired, and would be present himself to ensure no further harm befell his ward. There was a skip in his step as he turned into the patient's private room.

"Aye, sir," Scotty nodded from the doorway, leaving McCoy with their patient, grinning to himself and pulling out his pager. Maybe this would be the one operation she needed; maybe they could actually help her.

"Miss Kirk," McCoy whispered, taking her tiny hand and staring down at the woman on the bed. "Perhaps someday soon, we can have a proper conversation. I'm rather tired of my own voice." Leonard settled back in what had become 'his' chair, pulling the newspaper from his briefcase and opening it, ready to read. He had reckoned with himself when he first came into her room all those months ago that regardless of her comatose state, Jaime Kirk should be kept up to date with the news like the rest of the world, and so every day he did so. He took a break from the political news to gaze at her fondly, the woman he knew nothing about, but about whom he wished to know infinitely more.

A/N: Hey there! I know it's been a while, and I'm so sorry about that. I've had one hell of a year, finishing school, a bunch of exams, joining the political world, turning eighteen... it's been a blast. Now, although I'm starting an internship, I have more time on my hands, and this little plot bunny sprung into my head. I have a number of others planned too, but more than that; I aim to finish my other fics. I'm sorry I haven't done so sooner.

What I found last year was that, although I love writing, I wasn't motivated to update. My mind stagnated. So I would like to ask if you would please review and critique my work. Thanks, Amelie x