#singer bones

I’m sorry this took so long Nonnie! I really spent most of the day trying to figure out what song I wanted this to be. I decided on Home by Phillip Phillips to keep the sound the same, but put some very serious thought into maybe using actual Grammy winning song Daughters by John Mayer or The Outsiders by NeedToBreathe.

So which ever song you like best, go ahead and think of that as what he won for. 

It was a familiar scene. There were sitting toward the front of the of the Staples Center in the area they put all the nominees and their guests. The stage in front of them playing out the usual suspense of who was going to be sheepishly ambling up to the stage to accept the award.  Leonard had been here a few times before. Admittedly he had been on the stage singing his heart out, not shifting in his seat nervously as they called out the nominees. 

He jumped slightly at the hand that clamped down over his forearm. 

“Bones, I swear if you don’t stop flinching I’m going to give you something to flinch about.” The threat didn’t hold much heat to it and lost it’s power when the hand moved to his and laced their fingers together. “It’s the perfect song.” 

Len squeezed the hand back hard. He usually didn’t get nervous like this. Hell, he’d played in front of 20,000 people. You think he could manage to sit in a seat when the focus wasn’t even on him. 

“And the award for Best Song of the Year goes to-” The curly head of Pavel Checkov bounced as he unfolded the envelope. “Leonard McCoy for Home!” 

The singer was frozen to his seat. It was a sharp poke to his ribs from James that finally got him moving.

“They called your name idiot.” He smirked into Len’s ear. He kissed him softly before shoving him from his seat. 

Len stiffly made his way up stage, oblivious to the applause around him. When he took the small gramophone from Checkov he muttered a thank you and then stood in front of the mic for a solid five seconds without saying anything. 

Finally his brain caught up to the rest of the event. He finally grinned. 

“Well, I guess it’s pretty obvious that I didn’t actually expect this.” He hefted the award in his hand. “Yikes.” 

He hadn’t realized how relaxing it is to hear the audience laugh when you’re on the stage. He was grateful to every one of them who forced one through. 

“I’d like to thank my manager Sulu, for making me clean up my act before letting me get my music out there. Also for actually getting my music out there. You’re a miracle working, man.” The video screen showed the young manager grinning in the audience. “Thank you to my beautiful Joanna, who was the inspiration for so many songs that eventually got me to this one. Daddy loves you Baby Girl.” There was clapping and more than a few “aws.” 

He looked down at the trophy again. The corner of his mouth tugged up in a half smile. 

“And I guess I should thank James Kirk. For being making me spend time with him.” He looked back out into the crowd. James had an easy smile on his face. “We’ve both had a hard time getting here, up on a stage with an award we aren’t sure we deserve in our hand. But you helped me get up here as much as you said I helped you. So thank you, you idiot, for insulting me on the set for a music video and then chasing me down on the street. It’s one of the best things that has ever happened to me.” The applause started up again as he started his way off stage. He sat down and pointedly ignored looking at James, who was giving him a stupidly sappy look. 

“Where you even going to put that?” It was a joke they had started when Jim got his Emmy. Len had claimed there was no room in the house for it and he’d have to put it in a closet some where. 

“I think I’ll just start sleeping with it. It can have your place on the bed.” Jim wrinkled his nose at him, pushing the heavy framed glasses up his face. 

“Sex with it would be awful.” Len snorted. 

“I’ll put it in Joanna’s room so I can embarrass her when her friends ask about it. Start singing to her.” A quiet chuckle came from Jim. He linked his fingers with Len’s again and squeezed them. 

“I love you, Bones.”

I'm thinking of doing more. 

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They met when Lenoard had been working on a music video and James had been wandering around the studio after Chris Pike had told him to fuck off for awhile and stop ruining takes. There were a few cameras focused on the musician as he sang the bluesy tune that had been released about three weeks before. James knew better than to get to close to the scene and stayed well behind the cameras but ventured close enough to listen to the gruff voice and low guitar that McCoy was so well known for. Apparently it was quits for the day, the director called it and everyone started to scatter. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing a pretty boy with a daddy complex somewhere?” Kirk  turned and raised an eyebrow. McCoy’s speaking voice was only slightly smoother than his singing voice. 

“Shouldn’t you be singing about heart break in the bottom of a bottle?” 

The musician gave Kirk a hard look before giving him a lopsided smile. He held out his hand. “Len.”