Chapter Text
Part I
There wasn’t much Leonard McCoy felt he couldn’t handle. He had been wrist deep in more than one person’s abdomen. He’d even managed to reattach limbs. If there was a crisis McCoy was the kind of man you wanted around. He kept a cool head and his hands never showed a hint of a tremor. So it must be said that it was no small matter that he was helpless in the wake of his red-faced, nearly hysterical daughter.Yet there he stood, shoulders slumped and arms hanging limply at his side. Brow furrowed over hazel eyes and mouth tight in a square jaw.
Joanna was clutching the delicate wooden box to her chest with the small porcelain horse that had once adorned the top in the death grip of her chubby right hand. Her face was wet from tears and a blotchy red was starting to work it’s way down her neck. All Leo could think of was how unfortunate it was that the child was like him when she cried, instead of having her mother’s bright eyed, elegant tears.
“Baby girl,” He crouched down in front of her and tried to pull her focus from the broken toy. She jerked away from him and curled around it. “What’s all this noise about?” He asked softly, brushing back the yellow hair that was sticking to her wet cheeks.
“I broke it! Mama gave it to me and I broke it!” She sobbed and buried her face in the side of the box. It broke Leo’s heart.
“Why don’t you let me take a look at it Jojo? I fix people up don’t I?” The small girl sniffed and nodded softly. “So lets see if Papa can fix this up.” He scooped his daughter up into his arms and carried her to the table that took up most of the kitchen.
Their house was modest but by no means small. It had a room for Leo (and his wife, once upon a time), a room for Joanna, a guest room, a small but comfortable kitchen, a living room with a sleeping porch off the back. It was filled with warm woods and soft pillows of deep reds and browns. Being only fifteen minutes from town made it a wonderful location for the local doctor.
The table was large enough for a family of six but was covered mostly with papers from Leo’s practice. He set Joanna down in her chair and cleared a space for her to set the music box.
It quickly became clear that the box was far beyond Leo’s skills. The small horse had broken off at the delicate back leg it reared up on. It’s possible that the gears that made it turn had been bent because it no longer spun, or maybe it no longer spun because it no longer played music, and he had no idea why that was. Joanna’s lip started to quiver again. He panicked.
“It’s okay Jojo! I bet Uncle Scotty can fix it. He’s good with moving things isn’t he?”
“You promise?” The large brown eyes of his late wife stared up at him, looking fragile and trusting.
“Of course,” He tried to keep the pleading hope out of his own eyes as he promised his daughter he’d find a way to fix something he wasn’t sure was fixable. “Now, I’ll go next door and ask Miss Chapel if she’ll watch you while I go talk to Uncle Scotty, okay?”
Luckily, Christine was just about to start making lunch and was more than happy to let Joanna help while Leo ran into town.
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The ride into town felt much longer than fifteen minutes with the small box weighing down Leo’s satchel. He flew down the dirt road, coat tails whipping out behind him with every corner he took. Every bump the bicycle hit had him nearly convinced that he had broken off yet another piece of the little horse. He figured by the time he arrived at Scotty’s shop he would have nothing but a fine porcelain dust.
In what was more likely seventeen minutes than the thirty it felt, he pulled up to the front of the mechanic's shop. He leaned his bike against the front and pushed the door open to go inside. No sooner than his boot had hit the floor on the other side of the door than did the building shake with an almost deafening boom. Leo threw himself against the door frame and waited for the room to collapse around him. When it didn’t, he carefully peeled himself away from the door and cautiously walked through the main room towards the work room located at the back of the building.
“Scotty?” There was no answer. “Scotty? Did you get yourself killed?” A head popped through the doorway that separated the two parts of the shop.
“Doctor! I thought I heard someone come in.” A grin spread across the man’s face. He was small man with a mischievous smile and short, light brown hair.
“How you heard anything over that noise is a wonder.” Leo narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. They had been friends for more years than he was willing to count and in all those years Montgomery Scott was into one kind of a trouble or another.
“Yes, well.” He stepped into the front room fully. The man was covered in soot and what appeared to be scorch marks. “It’s a risk of the trade.” The trade being mechanics. A career that focused on creating the machines that were slowly, but surely, improving the lives of those that lived further from the capitol. The palace spread wealth and prosperity to the city, fondly referred to as Enterprise by the people, and the small towns surrounding it. Small towns like their own Galileo, which lay only a few hours away from the palace. Those further away couldn’t draw from Enterprise for support quickly or efficiently. The machines being developed by the Starfleet were providing faster transport, easier access to materials, and even protection for the towns out of reach of Enterprise’s immediate care.
Scotty had been working for Starfleet for as long as Leo had known him. His hand had been in more projects than Leo could count and the man was so enthusiastic about his work that it was hard to believe that he hadn’t been born with a wrench in his hand.
“So what can I do ye for, Leo? I hope ye haven’t crashed that bike. I gave it back to ye less than a week ago.” The man’s northern accent lent well to a scolding tone, but it was usually more teasing than not.
“I’m actually here on Joanna’s behalf.” McCoy lifted the satchel over his head and set it on the counter that separated the two men. He carefully took out the small wooden toy and the delicate statuette that was supposed to be situated on top. “She dropped it and now it won’t work. Poor child is heartsick over it.”
Scotty picked up the box with surprisingly gentle hands. They were dirty and the fingernails were jagged but they were as skilled with a machine as Leo’s were with a scalpel. The mechanic opened the music box, turned it this way and that, tried winding it and looked at it closely through narrowed eyes. Finally he set it down.
“Leo, if I try to fix this it’s going to turn into nae but a pile of splinters and gears. I can do tiny but I cannae do delicate.” Scotty did look sorry, at least there was that. With a sigh Leo packed the box back into its bag. He slung the sack back over his shoulder made to leave.
“Thanks anyway, Scotty.” The other man nodded and waved as the doctor walked back out the door.
Leo had already made it back on his bike when the northerner ran out.
“Wait! Wait!” He jumped in front of his friend’s path. McCoy stared at him.
“Damnit, man I’m not even moving!”
“Right, it’s just I remembered there’s this shop down towards the bakery. Ye know the one? Off of Forest Lane?” Leo nodded. “There’s a lad down that way that may be able to fix it up. He works with the dainty stuff. Worked on a few things for me about a year back.”
A surge of relief hit Leo.
“Thank you Scotty, I’ll go see him now.”
“Good luck, mate. I’ll see you for a drink later on in the week, yeah?”
“I’ll give you a ring.” He took off down the road towards Forest Lane.
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The shop was at the end of an ally, bookended by a haberdashery and a bakery. The front was neat and simple with a window lined by beautifully sculpted clocks. Each face was bright and painted with care, each body detailed with carvings of anything from geometric patterns to tiny birds that seemed like they would flit off at any moment. There were shiny and intricately engraved pocket watches hanging from the top of the window, turning softly and catching the warm yellow light the lit display. The glass was etched in a simple, elegant lettering. It read:
Galileo Clock and Repair
McCoy opened the cherry wood door and stepped inside, looked up at the bell that chimed his entrance. The outside reflected the interior of the shop well. The walls were lined with clocks just as ornate and carefully made as the ones in the window. The counter was a glass case that was no doubt filled with more watches. The floors were a light colored wood, clean of any scuff marks or noticeable dents. While small, the shop felt cozy rather than crowded, and the soft ticking set a relaxing and consistent background.
Leo stepped up to the showcase to get the attention of the craftsman that Scotty had told him about, but door between the shop and the sales floor was closed. He rang the bell on the counter once before noticing the items in the case. Putting his hands behind his back, Leo leaned over to take a closer look. To his surprise the glass case wasn’t full of watches. It had a few, yes, but mostly it displayed carefully carved animals and flowers. Each one delicately arching, reaching, moving, ready to take off at any moment or float away in the wind. The tiny statues were detailed in amazing ways, just like the birds in the windows, but without the heavy body of the clocks to hold them, these ones seemed even more likely to simply walk away.
One tiny deer peered out of the case, her legs tensed and her ears perked, ready to bound off the shelf at the slightest sign of danger.
“May I help you?” Leo jumped. He had forgotten that there was supposed to be a clockmaker in the shop. A warm chuckle reached his ears. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
The man that had broken Leo of his reverie was standing behind the counter, wiping his hands on a worn cloth. His eyes were crinkled at the corners from the smile that was obviously a familiar one. The thin wire frames that sat on his nose almost completely covered, but did nothing to soften, the intense blue of his eyes. Leo couldn’t help but think that the smile looked arrogant, especially under the swept back style of golden hair. He cleared his throat.
“I’m looking for the clockmaker?” He assumed the apprentice was the one who had to deal with the front of the shop unless his master was called on.
“You’ve found him.” The man gestured to himself, if he was offended he didn’t let on. His face was relaxed and his mouth seemed to constantly have a slight upturn to it. Leo bit back embarrassment and pushed on.
“You were recommend to me by Monty Scott.” Leonard took the music box out of his bag again, carefully setting it on the small white towel that lay on top of the case. “I was hoping you might be able to fix this.”
The clockmaker took off his leather apron and tossed it and the cloth he had been holding over the back of a near by chair. He wore dark gray trousers and a soft blue button up shirt beneath a dark blue waistcoat. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing sweeping collar bones. He turned his attention to the object that had been laid out in front of him. Like Scotty, the man picked it up and looked at it from different angles. He carefully checked the wind up key and turned it back over to look at the top.
Leo tried not to notice his hands but quickly found himself lost to them. They weren’t particularly slender or elegant, but they were obviously deft and strong. They moved easily and looked natural with the spots of oil and polishing compound that stained his fingertips.
“Was there a figurine on top?” He finally looked at Leonard again. He set the box down and rested a hand lightly on top of it.
“Yes, hold on.” Leo dug back into the bag at his side and pulled out the horse again. “I believe it broke off when she dropped it.” He handed it over. The clockmaker took it from him, fingers brushing against his briefly.
“Your wife’s?”
“Daughter’s. She’s more than a little heartsick over it.” The man nodded and brought the little porcelain figure close to his face.
“I should be able to fix it. I won’t know for sure until I take it apart, but my theory is that a few of the springs were knocked loose.” He set the broken piece down.
“When should I come back to pick it up?” The craftsman hummed thoughtfully, looking the two pieces over again.
“Wednesday.” He finally decided. “At the very least I should know the extent of the damage by then.” Leo gave a nod.
“Thank you. I’m Leo McCoy by the way.” He held out his hand.
“James.” The clockmaker returned his grasp and the doctor couldn’t help but notice the pleasant feeling of the calluses against his palm. Everything about James seemed warm, his shop, his smile, his hands. His handshake was firm and practiced. Leo raised an eyebrow when James made no move to let go.
“I’ll see you Wednesday then?”
“Yes. Right, yes. Wednesday.” James dropped his hand quickly. The bell rang obnoxiously as Leonard left the shop. It seemed an appropriate end to the awkward encounter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It rained on Wednesday. Leo hated the rain. He hated mud. He hated wet and he hated cold. He hailed from the southern part of the kingdom where the weather was hot and dry. As it should be.
When he trudged into the tiny shop at the end of the ally, he found himself hating James. The clockmaker had left the door to the workshop open, giving Leo a clear view of the workbench and the man bent over it. Said man looked up when the increasingly obnoxious bell announced Leonard’s arrival. His glasses were almost falling off his nose and he looked ridiculous when he tilted his head back to see who had walked in. He looked even more ridiculous when he pushed his hair back, leaving a dark smear of grease on his forehead.
“Hello, Mister McCoy! I’ll be right out.” James pushed his chair back, rolling across the workspace to grab a spare cloth to wipe his hands. He stood and took off the apron he had been wearing when they first met. This time he wore light gray trousers and a white shirt with a dark red waistcoat. His collar was still unbuttoned and this time his sleeves had been rolled up to the elbow, exposing well defined forearms covered with smears of grease and dirt. Leo found himself getting more and more agitated.
The younger man came out with the music box in hand. The small horse back in place and looking polished.
“Doctor.” Leo said shortly. James blinked at him.
“Pardon?”
“Doctor McCoy.” The clockmaker pursed his lips, looking putout. He set the toy on the counter and pointedly ignored the correction.
“Well, Mister McCoy, I was able to fix your daughter’s music box. It was just a few springs mostly, but there were a couple of gears that had been jostled out of place.” He wound it up. The box began to play the gentle tune that Leo had heard so many times. The rearing horse turned smoothly, casting it’s shadow over the little flowers carved over the top. “The horse should be fine as long as she doesn’t drop it again.”
“And what do I owe you.”
“A thank you?” Leo let the shock of the reply play across his face for only a moment before narrowing his eyes at the clockmaker. James rolled his eyes. “30 notes.”
The money exchanged hands and Leo picked up the box without so much as a nod. It wasn’t until he was out in the ally that he actually looked down at the toy.
The horse had not only been reattached, but painstakingly restored. The paint was bright and new, the horse’s eyes looked lively and the flowers in it’s mane had new stems painted on to make them look woven in. The crack on the leg was invisible as far as the doctor could see. All of the nicks and dings the thing had achieved over the years had been carefully sanded out and the entire box had been restrained.
Leo rubbed at his face and swore before he made a heel-face-turn and walked back into the shop.
James was still behind the counter looking sulky. He glared at the doctor as he made his way back through the store.
“Thank you, James.” It obviously hadn’t been what the craftsman was expecting. There was a pause.
“You’re welcome, Doctor.” Leo nodded and turned to leave again.
“It’s Jim, by the way.” McCoy hurried out and prayed he wouldn’t have to come back.
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