McCoy might bitch and moan about people, especially his patients, but deep down he actually liked people. And cared about them to a startling degree. That was one of the biggest reasons he always put on an act. He saw in the man's eyes another opinion on the nicety of strangers and wondered, but he didn't ask. McCoy had enough sense not to poke a sore spot.

He winced a little at the question, giving a sheepish chuckle, "Ah that? Well, most days there's not much at all going on. Just the usual everyday stuff. And it'll go on like that for weeks, sometimes even months! And that's great! Because then you have the days where everything goes wrong. Aliens attack, life support fails, you start a few wars . . . trust me, we pray for the boring days." McCoy gave Jack a look.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. What's a tootsie pop thing?" He grinned again though, amused as hell, "You would think that, wouldn't you? But I guess if it ain't broke . . ." He shrugged and patted Jack's knee companionably.