Title: We All Get Scared Sometimes
Paring: Leonard McCoy X Reader
Warnings: mentions of horror movies. Not too many graphic details (I can't stomach frightening movies, to be honest...even if I do watch Supernatural and things like that...I watched Shaun of The Dead the other day, and tbh, that was pretty gross for me). Anyways. On with the fic!
Spoilers: Nope!
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Your life as a pilot was a simple one: you loved danger. Granted, the USS Enterprise was no solo mission; you were the second in charge after Mr. Sulu on the command deck, and were encouraged greatly by your superior officers to not fly the ship in loop-the-loops (Captain Kirk would very much like to do that one day, but with Spock on his back, the two of you weren't to do that any time soon).
As someone who loved danger, there was something that made you feel it, even when it wasn't present. Earth's unlimited supply of horror movies.
It was like they made every flick, the gory, the psychoanalytic, the creepy - just for you. When your shift was over, when you had time off, spare time, you'd sit back in your quarters and pop one on. Whatever it be, you'd be happy, satisfied with your appreciation for cinema, and the need to feel a chill through your blood, just like your job. An old friend called you sick. So what. That was just you.
"Don't you ever get bored with your movies?" Mr. Sulu chuckled, handing the consul to you upon the end of his shift. "I mean, I know I'd get tired if I watched endless movies about plants and - no, I'm wrong. I wish they made a movie just about plants now."
You smiled to yourself. "See? It's just my thing, Sulu. Give your plants a hello from me."
Your coworker grinned. "Will do, you nut. Enjoy!"
By the time the shift ends, and you crash in your bed, it's well into the night. But, seeing as you're deep in space, and there is no day official and night as far as the ship is concerned, you wake when you are rested. But when that is, there is no alarm reminding you that your shift begins; you have two hours until the next time you're up on the bridge around the dream team.
The perfect timeframe for another movie.
On the television, you select a title you hadn't seen before, and become immersed into the gory story of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. As the story goes on, you keep an eye on the screen, not phased at all with what's going on screen as you prepare and dress for the next shift.
"...and then there was this guy, and he hit him with a wrench, and -,"
"Why is your pilot talking about scary movies more than their own job?" Spock spoke over you, looking pointedly to Captain Kirk as he sat in the chair. "Captain?"
Kirk shrugged. "They're doing their job just fine, Spock, don't be such a sourpuss. ________ is just a fan of scary movies, and Chekov wasn't sure if he wanted to see it. Not a big deal." He soothed his First Mate.
Chekov was white in the face as he whispered, "I do not think I will watch that movie."
Another figure appeared on the Bridge, chuckling. "Yeah, Spock. I don't know what you're disagreeing on this time, but I'm against you." You recognised the man speaking to be the CMO on the ship, Dr. Leonard McCoy. Once or twice you had frequented the Medbay for regular jabs and checkups. "Hey, Jim, I need a signature on a few papers we're sending to the head base on Earth..."
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