[McCoy couldn't help his lips quirking, which he blames mostly on Spock Jr and a good deal on the fact he could hear Scotty's accent arguing over what a 'real' drink was from those words alone. He sighs and stands, walking over to sit on the edge of Kirk's bed. He pulls at the covers, fingers ghosting over the wound with a frown.]

You know Uhura told me my life is my job and you. She said I should get a real hobby. [His brow quirks.] Or go on a date.