InsaneJournal

Who: Leonard McCoy & Remy LeBeau
What: They meet and talk about the dreams
When: August 22nd, Around 11am
Where: A quaint little cafe
Rating/Warnings: PG13 for Language
Status: Completed GDoc



There were few things that McCoy enjoyed doing on his day off more than getting every “honey do” item on his list accomplished. The feeling of completion when he was able to check things off was damn near inspiring. It wasn’t as if they were fun things to do. No, McCoy was barely ever able to do fun things. But he tried to find some sense of fun in everything he did. Even if it was minor.


For instance, today he had a coupon for the dry cleaner’s. That was better than getting kicked in the nuts. And he found that his favorite breakfast bars were on sale. So far so good. Next he had to get his hair cut, and that was one of those awkward things he hated doing. So he stopped into the local cafe to pick up some strong, bitter coffee. Give himself some strength to sit for twenty minutes with a stranger touching his head, trying to ignore the attempts at small talk.


He stepped into the line, and wondered what the hold up was at the front. Not that he was in a rush.


***


The hold up at the front was undoubtedly a red-headed (good lord, his hair looked more red than usual in this light!) man who had the entire staff, three girls and a boy, near the register talking with him, instead of making his coffee. He’d ordered, sure, but was it really his fault that the other two girls and the thin, gothic-looking boy had come to try to get in on the conversation?


Of course it was.


The girl behind the counter would laugh and twirl her hair. But then someone behind that man in front coughed angrily and the staff scattered like roaches. A moment later, the man was stepping out of line and off to the side to wait for his coffee, turning to flash a charming and apologetic smile at the line.


The lady who was in line behind McCoy let out a soft sigh and fanned her face a little. “I’d hold up the line for him, too.” A mutter under her breath.


Soon, his coffee was produced, and he’d take a seat near the door so he could watch as people left-- everyone else was on a phone or laptop, but Remy? No. Not normally in public places. He liked to people watch. And when McCoy finally got his drink and began to make his way past that table? Well, Remy would flash that smile at him, too. A little intoxicating and made to ask for forgiveness.


He should have been a politician. But hey, there was still time.


***


McCoy wasn't on a cell phone waiting in line. He didn't have a smart phone, and the flip phone that he did have was ... in his office somewhere. The only person who ever called him on the device was his daughter, though he wasn't expecting any calls from her today. She was still with her mother until school started.


He turned with coffee in hand, and started toward the door. The tables inside were all full, and though he wished he could sit around and enjoy the air conditioning, he'd settle for a seat outside in the heat. He nodded once at the redheaded man.


"You've certainly got a way with them."


It was hard to tell if that was an insult or a compliment coming from McCoy's drawl.


***


“That is a factual statement.” It didn’t need to be good or bad, for Remy it was neither a compliment nor an insult. It was simply fact. But he’d been watching the way this man had scanned the room, looked over the tables, then ultimately headed for the door in a dejected way. Observant man, Remy LeBeau.


Beneath the table, he nudged the chair across from him out, pushing it across the tile enough to make it clear that the offering was for him to take a seat in the AC with him. “It’s hot outside.” He’d say, as if the physical invite wasn’t enough and needed a verbal to go with it. “Please,” a hand swept out to indicate the chair. “Sit.”


So he didn’t just charm ladies. Any man with a drawl was welcome at his table.


***


McCoy took a moment to stare down at the man, the table, and the chair. Then he slipped down into the chair and set down his coffee. "Thank you," he added, finally remembering his manners. Commenting on the other man's interactions with the Baristas behind the counter was probably not the most polite of things to do. Anyway, now he had a seat in the air conditioned cafe he was feeling a little more generous.


"It's ridiculously hot outside. I suppose that's what we get for being in Orange County in August." Perhaps the hottest month out of the year. At least, for Southern California.


***


"Is that what offering you a seat with me inside this air conditioned palace going to earn me? Chat about the weather?" His smile, though, said he was kidding. Sort of.


"We could be talking about women or the bombs," because how could you have explosions without bombs? "Or these strange dreams people have.. or the earthquake. But weather? You really know how to captivate a lady." It was a tease, of course it was.


***


McCoy raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth as if to ask what the man would rather discuss. But the answer to his question came before he could ask it. That brought a smirk to his face, and a chuckle nearly escaped. Nearly. He managed to tame it in time somehow. There came a quick shake of his head. "My apologies, naturally."


And then he lifted his cup. He spoke before sipping it. "All right, let's talk about bombs and women and strange dreams. And earthquakes."


***


Letting out a sigh as if trying to decide how to best go about the topic, he finally smiled and just went with what first came to mind. “So, I’ve been having these strange dreams with blonde bombshells causing earthquakes with their massive..” He gestured some as if indicate breasts, but the smile broke out on his face as he said something else, “Thighs.”


Yes, he was out to make some sort of friend-- well, not friend, really. He didn’t have friends. He was looking for someone he could have a little fun with. Remy LeBeau was a bored, lonely man.


***


McCoy raised an eyebrow at that. Blonde bomshells who made earthquakes with their... thighs? He wasn't sure what to think about that. All of his dreams were about aliens and space ships and Jim. He dreamed about Jim Kirk a lot. And now there was a Jane Kirk? She was... she was the Kirk that he knew, he was sure of it. But how was that possible??


Anyway, he cleared his throat and responded honestly, almost kindly. "Well, you know dreams around here. Sometimes they mean more than just... regular dreams."


***


“Are you serious?” That had the smile wiped from his face and he was leaning forward with his eyebrows going up. “You’re having these dreams everyone’s talking about, too? Really? I thought they were.. doing drugs or something. Acid.” And now he was interested. The girls had told him they were having dreams (Rogue, Lina and Laura, that was..), but normal people were having them, too? That was freaky.


“What sort of dreams are you having? It’s okay, I’m a doctor. Well, not really, I’m full of shit but I’m still interested.” At least he was an honest liar, right?


***


"Definitely not doing drugs. So far as I can tell. Unless they've been slipped into the water supply--though, I believe it's been tested." This was one of the weirdest ways he'd come into contact with another Dreamer. But now that he had, he wasn't particularly surprised. Orange County seemed to throw them all together. "Valarnet? Yes, I'm familiar with it. It seems to be a place for people who all have dreams to give one another support." He said, then leaned back in his chair.


McCoy actually chuckled at the bit about him being a doctor. Then not. "I actually am a doctor." He reached a hand out for the other to shake. "Leonard McCoy. Head of Surgery at Irvine General. And I dream about being a doctor."


***


“Yeah, I’m on that, but I’m not having any weird dreams.” Was he the only one in the county who wasn’t? That sort of concerned him. A bit.


“Oh, you really are a doctor? And you’re dreaming about being a doctor? Everyone else is.. dreaming about being.. sorceresses, or wizards or.. I don’t know, weird mutant jelly fish.” None of it made sense to him. It had to be something in the water-- or just really good brownies that were shared at some PTA meeting.


“So, doctor, do you have any ideas concerning these dreams?” Did everyone have massive tumors or something?


***


"Give it time." McCoy responded. Most people who jumped onto Valarnet started having them eventually. Though, he did know a guy, Wally, who went for an entire year on Valarnet without ever dreaming.


McCoy shrugged his shoulders gently. "I'm a doctor on a spaceship. So I guess it's not that normal."


"No." McCoy said, shaking his head. He had his medikit from the dreams now, and was thinking about running some experiments, but in all honesty, there wasn't anything that could be done. He hadn't done all the scientific research, he just knew. There were so many brilliant people that had been affected by these Dreams. If they hadn't been able to figure it out, how could he? "No theories or ideas. Just... going along with the ride and hoping my daughter doesn't join the rest of us lunatics and our Dreams."


***


“No, I imagine a space ship wouldn’t be quite normal. Are there aliens on this space ship?” He wasn’t mocking. Not really. It sounded insane.. but it was just a dream. He could be onboard with that. He was a little weirded out by the people who said they changed because of the dreams.


That was odd.


“Because you don’t want your daughter showing up in your dreams, or because you don’t want her coming to California?” It was a little strange, didn’t fathers normally want to see their daughters? Spend time with them?


Remy idly wondered if she was hot.


***


"There are indeed." McCoy said, nodding once. "One of my good friends is one. Well, half." He added, remembering Spock's origin story. It was insane. Though, McCoy hadn't changed at all. He was still human, still him, just with an extra set of memories of flying around in space.


"I don't want her to start dreaming. She's only twelve. I can't imagine that having a second set of memories in her head would be good for a girl so young." He responded. "She lives with me during the school year, and her mother during vacations."


***


Only twelve? Oh well, there went that idea.


Remy liked younger women.. but not that young!


“Sometimes I think I want to have these insane dreams, too. But sometimes I don’t. Some people are actually changing because of the dreams.” And he really thought that was... well.. creepy. “And while I could use some excitement in my boring underwear while giving a presentation dreams, I’m not sure I want that much excitement.” A light joke that came with a smile as he sipped his coffee. Ah. This could have almost been a vacation.


***


McCoy nodded. He’d dealt with some of the strange changes. Mutants and Aliens and Vampires and the like. He’d heard about some woman on Valarnet who had wings? In all honesty, he wanted to see it. As a doctor he had a professional interest, but as a human being he had a curiosity, too. “I’ve heard that,” he said, softly.


A chuckle escaped him. “Well, there’s plenty of excitement in my own dreams. Aliens and space ships and disarming bombs and the like. I wouldn’t change them if I could. I’m just glad they’re only dreams, and haven’t leaked into other aspects of my real life.”


***


“You mean like your bombs and space ships? I don’t know, that seems rather exciting. Unless we’re turning into War of the Worlds with those aliens. Then maybe not so much. But a few bombs and space ships could certainly make my life more.. lively.” His smile spread out as he took another long drink of his coffee and swirled it in the cup.


“I’m mostly glad other peoples dreams aren’t leaking into reality.” He’d heard some of them. Good Lord.


The phone in his pocket began to buzz. It was noon.


“For whom the bell tolls.” Remy remarked with a smile at the other man. “I’ve got to get going.” Pushing to stand, he’d stick out his hand for a shake. “It was very good to meet you.”


***


"...it happens." McCoy said, softly. "Hopefully it won't happen again anytime soon." Bleeding into reality was a bad thing. Very bad.


The phone caught him off guard. McCoy hated them, really. He didn't have a cell phone himself--or, he did. But it was pretty much only to communicate with his daughter. He pretty much left it on its charger or his desk drawer. He'd have to figure out where he left it this time, as Joanna was coming home fairly soon for the school year.


"Oh, of course." McCoy lifted his hand to give Remy a hearty handshake. "It was a pleasure, I'm sure. I'm at Irvine General, if you ever need..." He wasn't sure what the other man would need, but he had to throw that out there. To be friendly and pleasant.


***


Oh, now that McCoy had told him where he worked? Well, he’d see a lot more of that red-head than he probably expected. The next time he got hurt (which happened a lot around here...) he’d show up at that hospital and request him.


Money and fame got you far. It’d certainly get him wherever McCoy happened to be in that hospital.


“Anything.” He would finish that sentence for the doctor. Surely he hadn’t meant to say ‘Anything’, but rather something along the lines of ‘Medical treatment’, but in Remy’s world, it was ‘Anything’. He’d take you up on that, Doctor. “I will. And I’m sure I’ll see you later, Docteur.” The French version rolled off his tongue so much more fluidly with that Southern accent. “Was nice talking with you.”


That said, he’d be headed out the door, the women behind the counter waving at him eagerly. He smiled and lifted a hand back before slipping out and down the sidewalk.