The Jim and Bones Show III: Hitting the Road - Part 2

Author's Note: Wow, so this turned into a bigger beast than intended but it's finally here! Thanks for all of your comments, reviews, and little nudges towards finishing. Ialsomayhavewrittenpartofafourthinstallmentalready. I've had a few people ask about my Stargate: Atlantis fics but did not have accounts set up to receive replies, so I'll answer here: I do have another SGA AU in the works, but given the amount of time I've taken with it already and the amount of time I have to write, it will probably be a long while until it's published. Maybe I need to rewatch the series for inspiration. For now, enjoy the rest of this fic!

Hey, Jim, how does it feel to have a Michelin star?" someone shouted. Leonard felt Jim freeze beside him and looked up to find a small group of photographers huddled together near the doors.

They were paparazzi.

Great, because this day just couldn't get any better.

Aside from the small crowds in the studio when Jim filmed his show, it wasn't often that they came across reminders of Jim's celebrity status. To Leonard he was just Jim, the gregarious chef who bulldozed his way into Leonard's life a year ago and had made himself at home. Now Leonard couldn't imagine his life without Jim in it - not that he would ever tell him that. To see photographers stalking his friend at the airport, though, was a jolt of reality.

His gaze quickly flicked to Jim. Although they had sorted through some of Jim's anxieties yesterday, Jim had refused to think much about the Michelin star. Leonard worried what Jim's reaction would be, whether he was mentally prepared for this question.

He needn't have worried. Jim flashed his winning smile and slowed down in front of the group. "It feels great. We haven't had a chance to celebrate it yet, but we will."

"What's next for you?" another voice called out.

"To get back in the kitchen and keep on doing what we've been doing," Jim answered.

"What are you going to do to celebrate?" another asked.

Jim laughed, but Leonard could tell it was fake. "There are a lot of people who helped me get here. I'm sure we'll figure out something."

The chef's posture was becoming tense, so it was to Leonard's relief that Sulu sensed it too and stepped in. "Sorry, guys, but we've got to go. We're on a schedule." With that, he turned and started walking away.

Voices continued to shout questions, but Jim just threw a quick wave over his shoulder and let Leonard and Sulu lead him away.

Suddenly one of the voices called, "Hey, Bones. Are you excited for Jim or what?"

Leonard froze on the sidewalk, feeling his anger flaring. These people didn't know when to stop. Jim must have seen that the doctor was gearing up for a rant in his defense and quickly cut in, shouting back: "Hey, only I get to call him Bones." It sounded good-natured, but Leonard could tell that Jim was annoyed.

Thankfully the shuttle arrived moments later and the three men boarded the empty bus. "You know, you're going to have to do some press for this," Sulu told Jim matter-of-factly as he checked his phone.

Jim sighed and dropped his head back against the window. "I know," he said quietly.

"Does he really have to?" Leonard grumbled to Sulu, watching as Jim seemed to wilt under the added burden.

Jim was the one who cut in. "Sulu's right, Bones. I've got to do some interviews. It's how the game works."

The doctor decided to sulk on Jim's behalf and had worked up a good internal rant by the time they reached their car. He managed to keep it to himself on the drive to the hotel, not wanting to add any more to Jim's stress levels.

In Atlanta, Leonard was staying at a downtown hotel until Jim's show taped, then he'd go to his mother's house for a few days. This time he had a room of his own ... because he'd be having a guest.

"Daddy!" Joanna cried the moment he opened the door, only minutes after arriving himself.

"Hi there, Sweetheart," he said, hugging his daughter. Jo had grown some lately; she stood well past his waist now.

After a long hug with Jo, happy to have her in his arms again, he stood and kissed his mother on the cheek. "Thanks for bringin' her over, Mama," he said. "I wasn't expectin' you just yet."

"Well, someone heard there was a pool in the hotel, so we headed out as soon as we saw your flight had landed," she laughed, brushing his hair back just like she had when he was a child. Now, though, it was a bit of a reach for her.

Joanna jumped up and down. "Please, Daddy, can we go swimming now?"

Leonard laughed. "Give me a few minutes, Sweetheart, and then we can go."

"Yay!" Jo said with a dramatic jump backward onto the bed not occupied by Leonard's luggage.

"Bones, do you have a second..." Jim said, charging through the connecting door between their rooms, not noticing the extra people until he looked up from his paperwork and saw Leonard's mother. "Oh, never mind, you've got company," he said quickly, making to back out of the room.

But Joanna wasn't going to let her Uncle Jim off the hook so easily. With two steps and a flying leap, she threw herself into her favorite uncle's arms. "JIM!"

"Joanna!" Leonard called in vain, trying to keep Jo from making Jim drop everything in her excitement. However, Jim managed to shift everything to one hand and hug Joanna with the other.

"Joanna-Banana, how's my Bones Junior?" The girl giggled at being compared to her father.

Hearing a deeper chuckle, Jim looked up to see Bones standing beside his mother. Clearing his throat, Jim stood up and held out his hand. "Mrs. McCoy, it's nice to finally meet you in person."

"Likewise," Mrs. McCoy, taking Jim's hand firmly. To his surprise, she leaned in and gave Jim a warm hug. "But call me Mrs. McCoy again and you're out on your ear, Mister," she joked. "It's Eleanor."

"Yes, Ma'am," he answered, feeling a bit like he was back in school under scrutiny of one of his teachers. However, he could tell 'ma'am' wasn't going to fly, either, based on the knowing raised eyebrow on the woman's face. Ah, so that's where Bones got it from.

After promises to see each other at the taping and a subsequent vacation at the McCoy home, Leonard saw his mother off, then got ready to take Joanna swimming in the hotel pool while the others in the group got to work.

When Leonard and Joanna returned to their room an hour later reeking of chlorine, they found that Sulu and Jim were out at an appearance, Spock and Nyota were hard at work preparing for their final taping, and Scotty was out assessing the whisky options available in Atlanta.

The crew headed out to the restaurant together. While they waited for Jim and Sulu to arrive, Leonard watched, amused, as Joanna chattered away at Nyota. Bless her heart, Nyota seemed just as amused as he was and doted on his daughter. Joanna hadn't been able to stop talking about Nyota since they first met, and Leonard had to admit he was hard-pressed to think of a better role model for his little girl.

Jim plopped down in a seat next to Leonard a few minutes later. "Bones," he said quietly, "You and Jo didn't have to eat with us. We all know you want to spend time with her."

Leonard turned to Jim with a raised eyebrow. The chef shrugged self-consciously. "You know, flying out to Chicago like you did was more than anyone's ever done for me, Bones. You should take the time you want with Jo now."

If Jim's insecurities were still welling up this badly, he must still be stressed. "Jim," Leonard said patiently, "We both want to see everyone. Now shut up and look at the menu so we can order. I get grumpy when I'm hungry."

"Wow, you must always be hungry," Jim muttered as he opened his menu.

After ordering, the group chatted away, asking Leonard about Atlanta and teasing him about his stronger accent now that he was home. Jim was surprisingly quiet. Leonard watched him out of the corner of his eye but didn't bring it to anyone's attention.

Ten minutes later, Jim's phone suddenly rang. Leonard wanted to chastise him for having his phone on in the restaurant, but he saw Jim shrug as he looked at the caller ID and rose from the table to take the call. Leonard looked to Sulu for answers, but Sulu also shrugged.

The server delivered their food. Leonard could see Jim pacing in the glass foyer, scrubbing the back of his head as he spoke. At first Leonard waited to catch Jim's eye and wave him over, but eventually hunger caught up with him. Nyota, catching on to what Leonard was thinking, gracefully stood and approached the window. Leonard could see her tilt her head and could imagine the raised eyebrow. Jim raised a finger to show he would be finished in a minute before going back to messing up his hair.

Nyota sighed as she sat down. "Two minutes. That's all he gets."

Leonard was just getting ready to set aside his napkin and haul Jim back to the table himself when he saw the chef lower his arm and stare at his phone for a minute before sighing and then re-entering the restaurant. He looked apprehensive as he sat down in front of his rapidly-cooling food.

"So, who was that?" Nyota asked as everyone else at the table stopped eating to look at Jim.

Jim sighed. He looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him right then.

"Jim," Spock prodded.

The chef sighed. "It was the New York Times," he mumbled.

"What?!"

"That's great!"

"Really? They didn't call me first?" Sulu added, somewhat disgruntled.

"What did they ask you about?" Nyota asked Jim, digging back into her meal.

Jim shrugged like a petulant teenager being asked about school. "Just about the restaurant and the Michelin star and stuff."

The others continued to ask questions but it was clear that Jim was only answering them out of politeness. "Guys, let the poor man eat," Leonard finally cut in.

Jim flashed Leonard a small smile of gratitude and put down his head. He slowly picked at his meal, but it was easy to see that his mind was somewhere else.

"Is your dinner cold?" Leonard asked Jim quietly after watching him play with his dinner for a while.

Jim sighed a small sigh, unnoticeable to anyone who wasn't looking straight at him. "Nah. Just thinking."

Leonard sighed a sigh of his own. Jim's mind was a busy place. He was nearing his breaking point, and something was going to give soon. Seeing that Joanna was engrossed in one of Scotty's more age-appropriate stories, he leaned in toward Jim. "Tomorrow's the show and then you can relax at my mom's house for a while."

Jim stared at his plate for a moment longer. "Are you sure, Bones? I don't want to intrude on your family time. I know you don't get home much."

"Nonsense, Jim. We wouldn't've invited you if we didn't want you there," Leonard told him. "You don't even have to hang out with us. Sleep all day if you want. It's your vacation. Use it to take a breather."

A slight nod was the only acknowledgement Jim gave of Leonard's words. The doctor returned to his meal and let Jim have some time in his own little world. Seriously, if he even met Jim's mother, he was going on a rant to end all rants – only because he would never raise his hand against a woman.

In the parking garage upon their return to the hotel, Joanna skipped ahead from her place at Leonard's side to grab Jim's hand and start chattering away, telling him all about how she would show him the best tree to climb and the best place to read at her grandma's house. Leonard felt content as he watched Jim talk to Joanna, finally losing some of the slump of his shoulders. They were like two peas in a pod - no doubt about that. He was slightly afraid of the time when they would (inevitably) become partners in crime.

Back at the hotel, everyone went their separate ways. Jim didn't even notice he had sighed, feeling strangely empty, as the McCoys' hotel room door shut until he felt a hand on his elbow. He looked down to see Nyota looking softly at him. Spock was the only other person in the hallway.

"We were just about to go check out the hotel bar," she told him. "Come join us."

At first Jim opened his mouth to make excuses, but then thought about how long it had been since he had hung out with his crew just as friends. "All right," he said eventually. Nyota beamed at him.

The bar in their hotel was a fairly dim, non-descript affair that they wouldn't remember a week from now. Generic jazz played over speakers mounted in the corners, and only a couple of other patrons sat in there. Both looked like businessmen travelling alone: one sat at a table playing with his phone, while the other sat at the bar telling the bartender all about his business while the bartender pretended to be interested.

Drinks in hand, Jim sat with his friends and idly studied his glass while Nyota and Spock discussed their plans to visit her family after the tour. Eventually noticing the silence at the table, Jim looked up with a start to find Spock and Nyota watching him, the latter with a bemused smile on her face.

"I'll bet you're looking forward to relaxing at Case de McCoy for a few days," she said.

Jim looked back down, suddenly realizing he had paused too long.

"What is the matter, Jim? Were you not looking forward to "gathering blackmail material" on the doctor?" Spock asked, a frown crinkling his brow.

"Yeah," Jim said hesitantly.

Nyota tried to hide her sigh. She knew exactly what Kirk was thinking right now – his insecurities were raising their ugly heads again, making him worry that he would be in the way during his stay. "Jim," she said firmly. "Have you ever known Leonard to do anything he didn't want to do?"

Jim shrugged. "He didn't want to be on the show."

"The first time, yes. But he kept coming back. And taking care of you when you were sick. And harassing you at every opportunity. And hanging out with you and everyone else at the restaurant. It wasn't because anyone forced him to. He wants to."

But Jim refused to believe that anyone could be so accepting of him, of all people. "But he doesn't get to see Jo and his mom much. I don't want to intrude."

Nyota scooted over and put her arm around Jim's shoulders. "He doesn't always get to see you much, either. All of the McCoys think you're the bee's knees, Jim. When you're good friends with someone, their presence is never an intrusion." Sometimes, much to her chagrin, Jim needed to have these things spelled out for him.

Jim sighed. "Okay."

Nyota could tell he wasn't convinced, but he was thinking. It was the best she could hope for. "Now are you going to buy me a shot of Jack after that pep talk, or do I have to get it myself?" she asked.

~o~O~o~

Jim found himself actually excited about the taping of the Atlanta show. Yes, it was the last show to film for a while, but more importantly, all of his favorite people were there.

There were also some not-so-favorites. Earlier in the day, Jo had been regaling them with tales of classmates who had tickets to the show. The talk on the playground all week had been about how the girls in Jo's class (and their mothers) thought Jim was cute. Leonard figured there were worse people the pre-teen girls could have a crush on. At the moment, he just couldn't think of who that might be.

Apparently, Dina Alexander had been sooooo jealous when Joanna had been on Jim's show in an earlier series. Now Dina and her mom had gotten tickets to the Atlanta show, and suddenly she was trying to be Jo's best friend because she and her mom wanted introductions.

"She's so stupid and mean. She keeps telling me that her mom thinks dad is cute and how we're going to be sisters. Please promise me that will never happen. It would be the worst thing EVER," Jo said, bouncing on her toes in front of her father and pleading with everything she had. Jim had to laugh at Bones' consternation.

Meanwhile, Bones sought to ease his daughter's worry. "Don't you worry, sweetheart. You don't have to talk to Dina at the taping if you don't want to." Jim made a mental note to merely give a polite smile and nod to the mother/daughter duo. After all, he was firmly on Team Joanna.

Jim grinned as he stood behind the counter on stage, lights shining down on him, as he waited the last few moments before taping began. Joanna and Eleanor sat directly in front of him in the first row. Jo was making faces at her father, who stood beside Jim. Bones was returning the favor, albeit with slightly more dignity, but only very slightly more.

The theme music played and Jo bounced with excitement in her seat. As soon as it music ended, Jim announced, "Today we're in Atlanta, but I'm not going to cook any Southern food because inevitably I would fail to do it right and then I'd be told off in stereo by several generations of McCoys."

A couple of indignant "Heys!" came from the front row, while a muttered, "Damn straight" came from his left. Jim was pleased. Things were off to an excellent start.

Planning this show hadn't been easy. He wasn't too proud to admit to himself that he didn't know Southern food well enough to do it justice. The answer had come to him the last time he was at Bones' house before he left on tour. He would do breakfast for dinner, just like the first real meal he had ever cooked for his friend after the doctor had let him stay over to recover from an allergic reaction. "It's the best kind of meal ever!" he told the audience, launching into the day's recipes.

He was pretty sure Bones picked up on this nod to their friendship, too.

The show ended up being a genuine pleasure to tape. Jim found himself making an association to good times and people who cared with each dish he made, and for the first time in a long time he remembered why he loved the kitchen and enjoyed making a TV show. His joy was evident to all who watched. It was contagious, and even Bones ended up showing a genuine smile – when not hurling abuse at Jim, of course.

At the end of the show, as the audience applauded, Jim slapped McCoy on the back while the doctor rolled his eyes, arms firmly crossed in front of him. The chef managed to drag his doctor-not-a-sidekick to the front of the stage and took a bow. McCoy stood beside him, watching, and asked, "Are you done yet?" But there was a sparkle in the man's eye that let Jim know he was proud of him.

The meet-and-greet afterward was interesting. Joanna had given Jim a big hug, and to his surprise, Eleanor had done the same. Then they had retreated to the back of the stage with Bones while Jim smiled for fan selfies and awkwardly accepted hugs from his adoring fans.

The contingent from Jo's school was evident as several people gloated to Jim about how they were such good friends with the McCoys. He discovered that Jo hadn't been exaggerating about how vapid Dina Alexander and her mother were. He could see them coming a mile away and had gotten a serious nod of confirmation of their identities from Jo. Nyota was pretty sure she saw Mrs. Alexander hitch up her boobs before approaching Jim, and she kept looking over his shoulder at Leonard McCoy at the back of the stage. She made to get up on the stage, but Spock was ready with a firm hand to insist that no, Dr. McCoy was not part of the line-up today. Jim merely gave the duo a bland smile and posed for a photo before moving them along when they wanted to stop and chat. If Bones ever ended up with a woman like that, Jim would need to have a serious talk with his friend. The word 'intervention' would be used.

It appeared that at the end of the day, McCoy might have him beaten in the phone number/e-mail sweepstakes, but Jim didn't mind. It had been a good day.

So this is what contentment felt like.

~o~O~o~

After an excellent meal from the show's leftovers (Jim had made sure to prepare enough food for everyone), there was free-spirited laughter from the group as they cleaned up. Tomorrow, all but Jim and Bones would fly back home. After this final show was edited, it was vacation time for the show's crew. Having been away on tour for so long, they were all itching to get home.

Despite having been together for weeks, there were long good-byes as everyone left the studio. While the rest of the crew were staying at the hotel one more night, Jim and Bones were heading to the house Bones grew up in.

Jim gave Nyota a long hug as they were about to walk out the door. "Sorry you had to put up with me and my crap," he mumbled in her ear.

Nyota broke the hug and cupped Jim's chin in her hands, smiling. "We both know I could kick your ass if I needed to," she said sweetly. She was right – they both knew that. "But you also know I love you. Go have fun at Leonard's. Let them take care of you."

Seeing Jim's hesitation, Nyota spun him on his heel and pushed him toward the doorway with a firm, "Good-bye, Jim."

Jim headed uncertainly outside to where the McCoys were waiting for him, still convinced he would be intruding upon their precious time together. However, the smiles that lit up all of their faces at his appearance brought a smile to his own and propelled him forward. It felt nice to be wanted.

As it turned out, the McCoy residence was large and rather grand, a former plantation a ways outside of Atlanta. All Leonard had ever told Jim was that his mother had plenty of room for all of them, but Jim wasn't expecting a proper plantation house like people wrote about in period-piece novels. He was immediately led to his room and then settled on the back porch was a glass of sweet tea in his hand, Joanna next to him on the porch swing talking a mile a minute as they watched daylight fade to twilight.

"Sweetheart, let Jim just relax for a minute so he can get his bearings," Bones drawled as he followed Eleanor out the back door.

Usually a talkative person, Jim was, for once, happy to sit quietly. He could finally feel himself let go of all of the tension built up by weeks of work and travel. Seeing the white siding on the house sent Jim's mind back to the white siding of a dismal farmhouse in Iowa.

Lost in his thoughts, Jim didn't realize he had closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep until he felt someone shake his shoulder.

"Sorry," the doctor said, not appearing very sorry at all. "As quiet and un-obnoxious as you are when you're sleeping, you might be more comfortable in an actual bed."

Jim looked around. It was darker than he remembered, and he and Bones were the only ones left on the porch.

"Jo's in bed, and I think it's your bedtime, too," the doctor added.

Jim was still too muddled from sleep to think up a snappy comeback, so he wandered back into the house. He noticed Bones was following him. "You gonna tuck me in again?"

Leonard snorted. "No, I just thought I'd make sure you know where you're goin' so you're not wanderin' around the house all night."

Despite the size of the house, Jim managed to find his bedroom without trouble and was out within moments, still dressed and sprawled out on top of the covers.

The problem with falling asleep so early was that Jim found himself wide awake at 4:30 the next morning. Sighing, he resigned himself to getting up. He dug his laptop out of his bag and booted it up. However, when he went to check his e-mail and the browser opened with an error message, he realized he didn't have the password for the router. He sighed. He couldn't wake up Bones to ask. Of all the things for which one might wake up a friend in the middle of the night, this ranked pretty highly on the list of things which could result in a severe physical or verbal maiming.

He needed a fair bit of coffee before he could face that kind of peril. However, it was early and he didn't want to wake up his hosts, so Jim settled for working on some of his other projects.

Jim became so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice the time until laughter in the kitchen brought him back to the present. It was light outside, and from the voices coming from the kitchen, Jim guessed that everyone else was up. He put aside his laptop and jumped out of bed to go take a shower.

A few minutes later, Jim approached the kitchen and took in the scene. Joanna stood at the counter stirring something in a bowl. Bones reached over her for a box sitting farther back, while Eleanor was pulling a frying pan out of a bottom cabinet. Jim felt a momentary pang of longing; he'd never had domestic scenes like this in his life.

Bones noticed him first. "Mornin', Jim!" he called.

Joanna looked up and gave him a huge grin. "Hi, Sleepy-pants!"

"Jo!" both Eleanor and Leonard said. "That's not very nice," her father added. "…even if he did sleep in."

Bones looked up to grin at him, but it dimmed slightly when he took in Jim's face. Jim realized Bones must have been able to see his tired eyes.

"Come in and have a seat, dear," Eleanor said, suddenly appearing at his elbow. "Can I get you a cup of coffee?"

Jim paused for a moment. He realized he wasn't used to having someone fuss over him in such a nice way; Bones usually took a gruffer approach. What was he supposed to do in this sort of situation?

Eleanor seemed to pick up on Jim's indecision and led him to the breakfast bar. "You had better keep an eye on those two," she said with a wink. A moment later a cup of coffee appeared in front of Jim.

Jim was pretty sure that Bones had noticed his hesitation, but he didn't say a word. Jim was grateful. He leaned back and tried to sit unobtrusively. Some people got really uptight cooking for a professional chef. He didn't want any of the McCoys to think he was sitting there judging their food or their technique when he was simply grateful they were including him in this.

Soon they sat down to the first home-cooked Southern meal that Jim had ever eaten. It was amazing: biscuits and gravy, grits, and several other dishes he couldn't name. Eleanor talked him through the serving dishes on the table while Bones and Joanna added in their two cents whenever possible, Joanna mostly contributing how yummy or disgusting something was. Bones laughed and ruffled her hair as he sat back. Jim had never seen him so relaxed before.

Meanwhile, Jim had never felt so much a part of a family before.

That afternoon, he was given a grand tour of the area by the whole family. When Joanna begged for ice cream, Jim joined in her pleading until Bones had no choice but to roll his eyes and give in. As punishment, he made Jim pay, but the chef didn't mind.

After the best night's sleep he'd had in a while, the next day Jim begged off going out in favor of work. "You sure?" Bones asked quietly as Eleanor and Joanna scurried around getting ready to leave.

"Yeah, Bones," Jim said with a smile that probably wasn't as wide as it should have been. The moment the door closed behind the McCoys, Jim felt a pang of sadness as he stood in the silent, empty house, looking out at a lush back yard and contemplated the never-ending race that was his life.

Reluctantly he moved to the couch and opened up his laptop to dive into work; it wasn't going to finish itself. Usually Jim was driven and focused, but today he kept finding his focus drifting away toward the house and the yard and the family that lived here. Feeling twitchy, Jim set aside the computer and started wandering around the house.

In the front hallway, he struck gold. Why hadn't he noticed this treasure trove before? Lining the walls were photos of Bones and his family from childhood onward. The absence of a wedding photo was conspicuous, but then Jim grinned when he saw the photo he had taken of Bones and Joanna with the birthday cake at his restaurant a few months ago. As a testament to his stress, it took another moment to notice that it was the one that Gaila had snapped with him making rabbit ears behind Bones.

Before he would allow himself to get choked up about someone's mother including his picture on their wall, he found himself laughing out loud. In a jiffy, Jim retrieved his phone from his room and quickly worked his way down the hallway snapping photos. Bones as a grumpy (or gassy) baby. Bones with chubby cheeks, toddling around in the grass. Bones posed for a school photo, his two front teeth missing. Bones standing with a soccer ball under one arm. Bones as an awkward teenager with floppy hair. Bones in cap and gown, his parents and sister at his side.

Then there was Bones in what must have been his early 20s, his med school days. He was standing on a dirt path, wearing a flannel shirt over jeans and a t-shirt. But best of all, Bones had chin-length hair. BONES HAD LONG HAIR.

Funny, Bones had somehow forgotten to mention that he had long hair at one point in his life. Had Christmas just come early for Jim?

This was too precious. There was enough black-mail material here to last him a while.

Jim was still chuckling to himself when the McCoys arrived back home. "Bones, why didn't you tell me you were sporting the grunge look back in the 90s?" he exclaimed as soon as everyone had reached the living room.

While everyone else began laughing, Leonard hid his face in his hands and muttered, "I was really hoping you wouldn't notice those photos."

"Hey, I didn't say it was a bad look," Jim said with mock concern. "You really worked it."

"I hate all of you," the doctor grumbled as he left the room in a pretend huff, laughter following him into the kitchen.

Eleanor walked up to Jim, her eyes dancing. "I've got photos albums if you have any spare time while you're here," she told him.

"I will make time," Jim vowed.

"Still hate you," Leonard called from the kitchen.

~o~O~o~

Soon the boys were out in the backyard playing soccer with Jo while Eleanor started dinner. At one point, Jim had begged off to get a glass of water.

The soccer match had ended a while ago amid allegations of cheating (wholly denied but true nonetheless) from both sides. Now Leonard stood leaning against a tree as Joanna spun around, twisting and untwisting the ropes attaching the swing to the tree. So far there hadn't been any pinched fingers.

The sun was starting to dip lower into the sky. Where was Jim? It had obviously been a while since he had gone inside. It took Leonard only a moment to make an educated guess. "Come on, sweetheart," he called to Joanna. "I'll bet dinner's nearly ready."

Jo muttered about having her outdoor time cut short but skipped alongside her father into the house, one hand holding his much larger one. Leonard headed straight for the kitchen. Sure enough, Jim and his mother were huddled over the stove, the chef intent as he listened to Eleanor explain something or other.

They were so focused on their cooking that they didn't notice they were being watched. He was happy to see that his mother had taken such a shine to Jim. Goodness knows the kid needed some parental guidance, not to mention Jim Kirk was an absolute nerd about cooking in the same way some people memorized car stats or comic book characters.

Leonard chuckled to himself as Jim pushed something to the side. It was a notebook. The kid had been taking notes!

~o~O~o~

40 minutes earlier

Jim quietly closed the patio door behind him. He'd give Bones and Jo a little time to play together without him. Wanting a drink of water, he headed for the kitchen.

Eleanor stood chopping something at the cutting board and throwing it into a hot frying pan. It took only a moment to identify onions. Clearing his throat as he walked in, Jim grabbed a glass and filled it with cold water.

"What are you making?" he asked, moving out of the way so Eleanor could wash her hands.

"It's a green bean casserole that Leonard loves," she said. "Once that's in the oven, I have to get cracking on the rest of dinner."

Jim could feel himself being drawn toward the stove. "Need any help?"

"Only if you want to," she said with a smile. "You're welcome to just keep me company, if you'd rather. I hear that you feed my son quite regularly."

Jim shrugged shyly. "It's the one thing that I'm good at."

"Nonsense, sweetheart," said Eleanor kindly as she stirred the onions. She set her spoon next to the stove and turned to Jim. "I don't care if you burn water when you try to boil it. You've been a good friend to my son, and I can't thank you enough for that."

She turned her attention back to the sizzling pan. "Leonard was absolutely distraught after he was divorced. I understand why he took a job all the way across the country, but oh, Jim, did I worry about him being out there all on his own. He didn't know anyone, there was no family close by, and all he did was work. But then he went on your TV program, and I haven't had to worry so much since you two boys have become friends. You don't know what a relief it is to know that someone is looking out for him."

Jim swallowed. He should say something, but he didn't know what to say after such a heart-felt statement. Finally, he blurted out: "How come he's so grumpy when you're so nice?"

He worried that Eleanor might take offense, but she just laughed. "He's been a bit grumpier since the divorce, but he gets most of it from his father, I'm afraid."

Jim shrugged. "As much as he barks, he doesn't usually bite. He's just gooey marshmallow inside."

This time Eleanor started laughing so hard she actually doubled over. "Don't let him hear you say that."

"I said it to him not long after we met. I think he was annoyed that I blew his cover," he admitted.

"Oh, Jim," Eleanor said, wiping away a tear as she chuckled. "Never change."

Jim watched as Eleanor dumped the sautéed onions into a baking dish with green beans and a freshly-made sauce, then popped it all in the oven.

"I don't suppose you would be willing to show me how to cook some Southern dishes, would you?" he asked her shyly. "Southern cuisine is one of my weak points."

"Of course, dear," she said, beckoning him toward the stove. "But only if you'll show me later how you manage to chop things so quickly without losing your fingers. Now, are you familiar with collard greens?"

When Bones and Jo wandered into the kitchen a little while later, Jim had a page full of notes and was cooking Southern food like he was born to it.

The daily cooking lessons became a ritual for Jim and Eleanor for the rest of his stay. Before he and Leonard left to return home, he cooked a meal for the entire family. It was Southern food, and, of course, it was all made to perfection … just like Mama made.

~o~O~o~

It was Monday morning, which for Jim Kirk meant a rare day off. He'd been exhausted at the end of the tour for his television show. If it hadn't been for the brief vacation at McCoy Mansions, Jim wasn't sure how he would even be able to drag himself out of bed right now.

He had so much to do. In a way, he felt like he was running a race on a treadmill - never making any progress forward. Still, it was nice to be back in the kitchen and running the show at Enterprise again. It felt a bit like home, at least as much as any place ever did. Sulu had agreed to cut back on his appearances for a while and was screening reporters' calls so that Jim only had to do a few well-placed interviews. Plus, he'd managed to produce passable columns and a blog post in between services this week.

After delaying the start of his day over a leisurely second cup of coffee, Jim sighed and finally forced himself to get to work. At the top of his to-do list was the gigantic pile of paper that was the manuscript of his cookbook. He had been putting off dealing with this for too long.

"Damn it, Jim! I'm a doctor, not a food critic!" Leonard had complained when he had dumped the heavy manuscript onto Jim's desk at the restaurant one evening while on his way to work the night shift at the hospital.

"I'm sure it's fine, Bones," Jim had said as he patted the man on the back and sent him out the door with a three-course dinner in take-away containers. Then he had stuffed the bundle of papers in his bag and hadn't given it much thought since.

Jim took a moment to admire the cover art: a middle finger flipping him off and a bad drawing of what was supposed to be Jim and a label with an arrow pointing to the drawing reading 'Captain Perfect Hair' in Scotty's nearly-illegible scrawl. It was a good start.

Flipping through the text, Jim's grin grew bigger and bigger with each passing page as Leonard's notes became angrier and angrier. Suddenly Jim felt lighter than he had in a while. Bones had come through for him: He'd found his missing ingredient. As far as he was concerned, this project was done.

~o~O~o~

One evening just after Thanksgiving, Leonard was relaxing on the couch with a beer after a long day on his feet. He was too tired to move, so he sprawled out and stared at the colorful lights on the small Christmas tree that Jim had badgered him into setting up. His mother had mailed him a box of ornaments, some of which he remembered from his childhood and others glittery, gluey messes that Joanna had made over the years. Even though the tree was only a couple of feet tall, he had to admit that the tinsel and colorful lights added a certain amount of cheer to the room.

A dark rectangular shape under the tree caught his eye. Curious, he got up to see what it was.

"BONES, OPEN ME NOW!" was written on it in a familiar hand. Somehow, Jim managed to be annoying even in writing. Below that, written in smaller letters, was one word: "Thanks."

Leonard plopped himself back down on the couch and contemplated the wrapping paper covered in penguins wearing Santa hats. It felt like a book. Figuring it was safe, Leonard tore at the paper.

Inside was a copy of Jim's new cookbook. Leonard was pretty sure that it wasn't in bookstores until next week. On the cover was Jim in the studio kitchen, looking happy amidst a spread of food and fresh ingredients. He had obviously made sure to wear a shirt that brought out the blue in his eyes. Leonard snorted: He was pretty sure that half of the people who bought this book were buying it for the pictures rather than the recipes.

Still, when he had teased Jim about selling the cookbook with a nice photo on the cover, Jim had growled in a terrible impression of a Southern accent, "Damn it, Bones. I'm a chef, not a movie star."

Leonard flipped through to the introduction. It didn't take long to notice that unlike many cookbooks, Jim's said nothing about fond childhood memories in the kitchen or how certain recipes reminded him of his mother. It was as though Jim hadn't existed until he left Iowa for the wider world. Maybe Jim Kirk really hadn't.

Leonard was once again grateful that his mother had been so willing to dote on Jim while they had been home. Lord knows the kid had needed it. Curious to see what had made Jim suddenly decide that the cookbook was finished, Leonard began paging through.

"Dammit, Jim!" he growled even though he knew that the chef was nowhere nearby. Beside each recipe, in a red, faux-handwriting font, were the comments he had written in the margin of the giant manuscript. They hadn't been intended for general consumption, but he had said what he had popped into his head while reading. The brat had deserved those comments. At least he'd had the sense to leave off the picture that Leonard had drawn of a hand flipping him off.

Tumeric? What the hell is that? What does a tumeric look like as it forages in the wild?

Good God, man! Have you seen how many recipes for red meat you included? Are you trying to kill off everyone out there before you release your next cookbook?

Celery? Why do you chefs always use recipes that call for one stalk of celery? Not everyone feeds a couple hundred people each night. Us mere mortals have to buy an entire bunch of celery that we'll never eat unless we suddenly adopt a herd of rabbits. What the hell are we supposed to do with the rest of the celery?

Really? This recipe? Cardiology is on the sixth floor. I'll meet you there, shall I?

Who besides a professional chef has ever heard of a quince or orzo? Not everyone can just pop down to their food supplier and pick up a pickled pig's ass or whatever crazy things you idiots cook with.

Jim had also kept in the notes the crew had scribbled back and forth with Leonard during breaks in travel and taping:

*What do you mean, men aren't vegetarians? Jim, your director is a vegetarian.

Yeah, and he gets crabby a lot.

I think it's you, Jim, not the vegetarianism.

I agree with Dr. McCoy - he is also often 'crabby' with you and he is not a vegetarian. You are the common denominator in this equation, Jim.

Please don't agree with me, Spock. It makes me uncomfortable.

Likewise, Doctor.*

*Why do you have Southern recipes in here? You're not from the South.

Yeah, but Bones, your mom taught me these. You wouldn't disparage your mom's cooking, would you? *Bones' mom shakes her head in agreement with Jim*

*Bones grumbles and gives in*

Feeling a sense of impending doom, Leonard flipped to the title page. It was worse than he had feared: 'By Jim Kirk, with more-than-occasional sniping and complaining by Leonard McCoy'.

Leonard grabbed his phone. Even though Jim was in the middle of dinner service, he had voicemail. Leonard planned on making full use of the technology; Jim wouldn't know what hit him.

Leonard impatiently waited for the end to Jim's cheery voicemail message before launching straight into, "Damn it, Jim! Really? Sniping? I'll show you something to complain about..."

~o~O~o~

It was late by the time Jim had finished the dinner service at Enterprise and the kitchen had been cleaned up. He was bone-tired but satisfied with the night - it was nice to be back in the kitchen nearly full-time.

He stepped through to the darkened dining room and stood for a few moments watching the quiet street outside through the plate glass windows at the front of the restaurant. The framed notice of his Michelin star, hung on the wall behind Gaila's station, reflected back some of the street lights from outside. Even after several years, Jim sometimes had to remind himself that this restaurant belonged to him – that all of this was his creation. Taking a deep breath, he felt himself calming down after the intensity of the past several hours.

The fluorescent lights in the deserted kitchen felt harsh in the quiet hours of the night. Or was it morning by now? Jim ducked into the side closet where the staff all kept their aprons and chef's whites and quickly changed into street clothes. He was wearing a t-shirt that Bones had bought him that read, "The Captain is always right … and I am the Captain." Jim had made the mistake of wearing the shirt to a production meeting a few weeks ago, and now the crew all called him 'Captain'. The amount of derision that Nyota could pack into that one word was truly impressive.

Jim absently pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket as he gave the restaurant one more quick check before closing up for the night. There were a couple of missed calls and one voice mail. Jim found himself hoping it was Bones that had left a voice mail rather than another reporter.

Luckily, he didn't have to wait long to find out. No sooner had the automatic voice told him what time the message had been left than he was met with, "Damn it, Jim! Really? Sniping? I'll show you something to complain about..."

A couple of text messages had continued the rant where the voice mail message had ended. No one could do angry, ranting text messages like Bones.

Jim couldn't help but throw his head back and laugh with a tired giddiness. Bones had found his Christmas present. His reaction was everything Jim had hoped for, warming the cockles of his weary little heart. He couldn't have been more pleased.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Bones," he chuckled to himself. Then he turned off the lights in Enterprise's kitchen and headed home.

FIN.

AN: Jim's t-shirt is a real shirt I saw recently while travelling, and my mind immediately associated it with him. You can probably find it for sale on-line. Also, I'm totally picturing Karl Urban around the time of Lord of the Rings for the long-haired photo. I wonder what he makes of that look now...