#bones oneshot

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” the cadet, Trevor, says, “Doctor McCoy said you-” Before he can finish his sentence, another body slams into yours, knocking the breath out of you and almost knocking you clean off your feet.

You stumble back but catch yourself, suddenly wrapped in the familiar smell of wild berry scented shampoo with a ponytail full of brown hair in your face. You hug her back, fighting tears as you mumble into her hair, “Nyota.”

“I can’t believe you came!” she says as she pulls away, her own eyes glassy with moisture, “how long did it take to get here?”

“Not that long,” you shrug, “and it was nice to see the stars again.”

She frowns, “you can still see the stars from the academy.”

“Not from behind my desk, you can’t,” you say through a forced smile, trying to make your sad reality sound like a jest. You truly did hate your dark little office; the only window was facing right at a brick wall of the next building and one of the two ceiling lights had died within a month of you moving in. It was always dark, always cold, and so far from anyone else, you often felt as if you were living in an apocalyptic world.

You only catch a glimpse of Nyota’s sympathetic stare before you’re wrapped in another pair of arms. “Y/N!” Jim exclaims, right into your ear, “you’re here!”

Tears threaten to fall once again as you hug your used-to-be captain back. “I’m here,” you mutter into his shirt.

He pulls back, his blue eyes practically glowing as he takes you in, “you look incredible.”

“Thanks,” your cheeks warm, “not looking so bad yourself, Captain.”

He chuckles, “you can’t call me that anymore, remember. You’re not a part of my crew.”

You know he’s only joking, but the words still cause a small fissure in your already fragile heart. “You’re still a captain, and didn’t you promise to keep my post vacant?”

His previously easy smile falters, but only slightly. “I did, in case you change your mind,” he sighs, “but only for six months.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t hold the position longer than six months,” he puts a hand on your shoulder as if he’s giving you the worst news of your life, “if you decide to stay at the academy, I have to replace you.”

“Wait,” you frown up at him, “is that why you asked me to come, so you could tell me to officially sign off of the Enterprise?”

“No, of course not, I just-” he hesitates before sighing again, “let’s not talk about this now, okay? I invited you here because I miss you.” He pulls you back against his chest and you let yourself relax, allowing the familiarity of your best friend to soothe the fresh wave of anxiety coursing through your veins.

“Now,” as he pulls away, Nyota puts a flute of champagne in your hand, “there are a few people who would really like to see this gorgeous face.”

You roll your eyes as he slides you under one arm and walks further into the crowd. “Even though I know you’re talking about yourself,” you say, “I’ll still pretend I’m flattered.”

It doesn’t take long for the rest of your friends to realise you’re here. Sulu and Chekov are first, each wrapping you in a tight hug before Scotty appears. You didn’t expect him to be that emotional, but you find it difficult to hold back your own tears as he sniffles against your shoulder. Keenser isn’t far behind, holding another full glass for you and taking the empty one back to the bar, no doubt about to retrieve more drinks for himself and Mr. Scott.

The more you watch the grins on your friends’ faces, the more your heart aches to return to them. It feels as if you never left, aside from a few funny stories from the last couple of months that Jim reenacts for you with tipsy enthusiasm. You almost forget about the reason that nearly stopped you from being here; the reason your whole body wanted to turn and run with every inch closer you came to this place.

Almost forgot.

“Bones!” Jim exclaims, throwing his arms up and almost spilling his entire drink, “what took you so long?”

Your heart leaps into your throat, stopping your breath as fire spreads across every inch of your skin. You know your face must be glowing red, but you can’t help that, so you focus on keeping your expression calm as you try to remember how to breathe.

Leonard hesitates, his eyes lingering on you before he clears his throat and turns to Jim. “Sorry, medical emergency.”

Jim scoffs, “I can tell when you’re lying. You’re a very bad liar.”

Leonard takes the drink Sulu offers him and clinks it against Jim’s outstretched glass, “well, we can’t all be talented liars,” he glances quickly at you before turning back to the captain. “Happy birthday.”

His words punch you right in the chest, and you’re sure you can feel another piece of your heart break, but you can’t let it show. You tip the rest of your drink to your lips, sculling almost a full glass of champagne while the others take turns greeting Leonard. When you lower your empty glass, the group is standing in awkward silence, each of them watching either you or the doctor to see who will draw their weapon first.

You take a deep breath before meeting his eyes, offering a tight smile, “it’s nice to see you here.”

“Impolite would only be beneath us,” he remarks, before finishing his own drink in one gulp.

“It’s been what? Like, half a year,” you can barely hear your own words over the thrum of your heartbeat.

He considers you for a moment, his gaze tracing up and down your body before he response, “like nothing ever happened between us.”

Once again, your choke on your breath, his words not only hurting you but throwing fuel on the little flame of anger growing in the pit of your stomach.

“Another round?” Sulu asks suddenly, snatching the empty glass from your hand.

Chekov nods enthusiastically, “I will help you.”

As the two of them walk toward the bar, Scotty and Keenser shuffle away and strike up their own conversation, and Nyota mumbles something about Spock before disappearing into the crowd. You’re left with only Jim and Leonard.

“So,” you clear your throat, “how have you been?”

Like he said, impolite would be beneath you, and you can't let him know how much he hurt you. Even though, if he asked, you would tell him anything he wanted to hear because you can’t help the way you still feel about him. The way you know you’ll always feel about him, even if you’ll never know what actually happened between the two of you.

- 6 months & 2 weeks earlier -

Your boots hit the floor with force as you run down the corridor, narrowly dodging startled Enterprise crew until you reached the rear-most turbolift on the ship. Unable to contain your excitement, you continue mashing the button for the MedBay even as the lift descends, only stopping when the doors begin to open. You slip out as soon as the gap is wide enough and continue your run all the way through the MedBay toward Leonard’s office door.

You swipe your card and the door slides open, and you can’t help the way your heart leaps when you first see him. You’re not sure you will ever be used to the way he makes you feel.

“Len,” you exclaim, gasping for breath, “you won’t believe... I got it... the... the thing!”

He leans back in his desk chair, chuckling, “I gave you access to my office for emergencies.”

“This is an emergency,” you say between breaths, holding your chest with one hand while the other hits the button for the door to close.

“Are you going into cardiac arrest? Because you look like you’re going into cardiac arrest.”

You try to regulate your breathing as you give him your most unimpressed stare, “I just ran over half the ship, I’m allowed to be a little out of breath.”

He laughs again, “a little?”

“Would you stop being a smartass and let me speak,” you say as you round his desk and lean against it.

He pushes his chair back to properly look at you, a devilish grin curling his lips, telling you exactly where his mind had gone seeing you atop his desk.

“I had my meeting with the admiral,” you explain, “about the grant.”

His cheeky grin vanishes, replaced by an anticipatory frown as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees, “and?”

“They said yes.”

“They said yes?” he echoes, standing from his chair.

“They said yes!” you exclaim, jumping into his open arms and pressing your lips against his. It takes a moment for him to respond, but when he does, he kisses you back with fervour.

“You are incredible,” he mumbles against your mouth, “did you know that?”

You pull back giggling, “I know.”

“Did they have any questions?” he asks, “any conditions?”

“Nope, they loved it.”

"They loved you,” he says before kissing you again, muttering against your lips, “I love you.”

You freeze and your eyes snap open, staring up at him as his cheeks turn red. He hesitates before taking a step back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Didn’t mean it?”

“No, I-” he rubs the back of his neck, “I definitely mean it, I just don’t want you to think I expect you to feel the same way.”

You step forward to close the distance between you, “of course I love you,” you stretch onto your toes and press a kiss against his lips, “more than anything.”

His eyes darken and his hands grab your waist as he steps forward. You stumble back until your backside hits the desk, and before you realise what is happening, he lifts you onto it and positions himself between your legs. One hand stays on your waist while the other cups you jaw, “you locked the door?”

Your mind races with filthy thoughts as his thumb traces your bottom lip, and the best response you can must is a soft whisper, “not sure.”

He chuckles, “then we better hope there are no medical emergencies.”

©

You knew exactly how you looked as you leant against the back of the turbolift – your hair a mess, cheeks rosy, and lips swollen – but you didn’t care; you just had mind-blowing sex in your boyfriend's office. You nod politely at the two other lieutenants in the lift as you step out, unable to hold your giggles at their uneasy smiles once you turn down the hall.

Nyota was waiting for you in the mess hall, tucked into a small booth on the edge of the room with her nose almost pressed to her PADD as she scrutinised its content. You slide into the seat opposite her, “hey, sorry I’m late.”

She takes one look at you before smirking, “have fun?”

“Lots,” you reply with a grin.

She shuts off her PADD and slides it aside, “so, how did it go?”

“The sex, or?”

“You know what I mean,” she says, rolling her eyes.

You laugh before replying, “it was amazing, actually; I can’t believe how stressed I was for nothing. They listened to my whole pitch, asked all the questions that I had answers for, and then said yes.”

Although her smile is still wide, she doesn’t quite leap for joy the way you had when you ended your meeting with the admiral. You frown, “what?”

“I’m waiting for the ‘but’.”

“Who said there’s a ‘but’?”

Her smile turns sheepish, “Jim.”

"Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you sigh, “I told him to keep it to himself, because I-”

“Told them no?” she interrupts, “and you said you want to stay on the Enterprise despite their generous offer?” Her tone tells you that she already knows what you said, which was, in fact, the exact opposite of what she just said.

One tiny piece of information that you intentionally omitted when you celebrated with Leonard was that in order to win the admiral’s approval for the grant, you might have accidentally accepted a job offer back at the academy. In your defence, it was almost impossible not to say yes. You were asking some of the most senior offices in Starfleet for a huge quantity of additional resources in order to run a twelve-month biomechanical programme aboard the Enterprise. How were you supposed to know they would offer you a position at the academy? And how were you supposed to say no?

By the time you finish telling Nyota about your meeting with the admiral from start to finish the mess hall is much quieter, and you’re surprised at how late it really is when you check your communicator. There is a long, awkward pause while you wait for her to respond, and you begin to feel like a child waiting for their punishment.

“I can’t believe you said that,” Nyota sighs, resting her elbows on the table and holding her head in her hands, “you can’t just say something like that knowing you don’t mean it.”

“I know, I just freaked out.”

“Freaked out?” she echoes disapprovingly.

“Yes!” you snap, “it was awkward. What was I supposed to say?”

She rolls her eyes, “I don’t know, maybe ‘I’m flattered, but sorry’.”

“Nyota, seriously.”

“I am serious!” she exclaims, “you can’t just take something like that back.”

You sit back and cross your arms, “yes, I can.”

She mimics your body language, raising her brows, “how?”

“Jim is going to talk to him.”

She scoffs, “oh, great idea. You know everyone already thinks Jim favours you?”

“I know how it’s going to look,” you sigh, “but if it gets me out of this mess, I don’t care what anyone thinks about Jim and me.”

Her scowl softens ever so slightly, “so, you got what you wanted and now you’re just going to back out?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrug, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Your communicator chirps and buzzes on the table, breaking both of you out of the intense staring competition you hadn't realised you were in.

“You better hope so,” Nyota says as she slides out of the booth, “and pray they don’t reconsider the grant.”

You check your communicator as you reply, “it’s going to be fine, Nyota, they’ll understand.” There are no missed calls or alerts, but the time reminds you just how tired and ready for bed you are.

The two of you leave the mess hall, walking together until you come to Nyota’s quarters where she bids you a good night. You continue in the direction of your own residency, flipping open your communicator along the way and calling Leonard. You listen to the dial tone for almost a minute before giving up and deciding to wait until he calls you back. Once inside your quarters, you shed your uniform and jump in the shower, scrubbing the stress of the day off before wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel. You check your communicator to find no missed messages, so you try calling Leonard again. No luck.

After an hour of flicking through data on your PADD, you begin to worry. You try calling a third time before you realise how late it is and your panic spikes, so you slip into your shoes and shuffle out the door. The halls are empty as you make your way down to the MedBay, only to find it just as desolate with a single nightshift nurse idly sorting different bits of equipment.

Two more unanswered calls and another half-hour of walking through the quiet ship has your heart racing anxiously, but its late and there’s no one else you can call without being a nuisance and waking them up. You make your way back to your room, dragging your feet until you’re close enough to fall into your bed face first and let out a few tears before exhaustion takes over.

You barely sleep, spending most of the night half-conscious worrying about Leonard. By the time your alarm goes off, you’re already dressed and slipping into your shoes. You shut it off before rushing out the door in the direction of the MedBay, retracing your steps from last night.

Relief washes over you when you see him standing in the doorway of his office, but a new kind of worry settles like a stone in the pit of your stomach. He’s not hurt or missing, so... was he ignoring you?

“Len,” you call as you walk through the MedBay, “hey.”

The look on his face is far from familiar; his hazel eyes seem darker and the circles beneath them are a deep purple, “mornin’.”

“Where have you been?” you ask, unable to mask the worry in your voice, “I was looking for you last night. I called a few times, but you never answered, I was so worried.”

He keeps his eyes on his PADD as he turns and walks further into his office, “sorry, medical emergency.”

You follow him in, trying not to choke on the panic rising in your throat, “oh, I didn’t hear about anything. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he mumbles, “just busy.” He refuses to look up at you, keeping his eyes trained on the device in his hands and moving as if you’re both the south ends of two opposing magnets.

“Okay,” you say, your voice even weaker than before, “well, I spoke to Jim yesterday and he said we should break out the scotch tonight. You know, have a little celebration?”

“Can’t, I’m on call.”

"You could still come and hang out,” you force a smile onto your lips, “come on, don’t make me admit that I miss you.”

He only scoffs, his attention unmoving from his PADD.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “are you sure you’re alright?”

He sighs and finally looks up, his brows knit tight and something akin to resentment behind his glare, “Jim told me.”

“Told you what?”

“About the job offer.”

The stone in your stomach grows three sizes, sending a wave of nausea through your whole body and you have to lean against the wall to steady yourself. “He wasn’t supposed to,” you mutter, “he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone because I’m not taking it.”

“I think you should.”

His words feel like a knife being plunged into your chest, knocking you breathless and turning your voice into a whisper, “what?”

“I think you should take the job,” he says.

You blink back your tears, “why?”

“It sounds like a great opportunity, and you’re young, so you should take it.”

If it weren’t for your shoulder leaning against the wall, you could almost be sure the room itself is starting to spin. You can feel your heartbeat in every inch of your skin, heat spreading like wildfire through your whole body as your heart begins to tear itself in two.

“Just so I’m clear,” your words are soft and unsteady, “you want me to take the job and leave the Enterprise?”

He nods once, opening his mouth to reply but hesitates, as if suddenly deciding not to say whatever was on the tip of his tongue. Only then do you realise that tears are streaming down your cheeks.

“Okay, fine,” you say, wiping your face with the back of your hand, “I’ll take the job, and since you can’t seem to stand the sight of me, I’ll start in three weeks instead of six.”

You can barely see his face through the blur of tears, so you turn sharply toward the door and storm out, trying your best to keep your sobs muffled as you move through the ship and back to your room.

-

Those three weeks were the closest thing to hell that you’ve ever known. At first you were devastated, locking yourself in your room for four days straight, refusing to talk to anyone and living off half a meal a day. Everyone was worried but knew you needed space, especially after they heard you accepted the job at the academy. After the fourth day of wallowing, you got angry. You finally showered, dressed, and ate a full meal before deciding you would demand Leonard to tell you what the fuck you did wrong.

Jim said he could hear that first ‘conversation’ between you and the doctor all the way from the bridge... you were in the MedBay. You’re not sure you’ve ever yelled at someone so much, let alone someone you love, but it was like that for the rest of your time on the Enterprise. You couldn’t be amicable with one another, no matter how hard you tried.

“Y/N,” Jim nudges you with his elbow, “do you remember that?”

You blink away your daydream to find four sets of eyes on you and one pair intentionally avoiding you, “remember what?”

“When you weren’t wearing underwear and we-”

“Jim!” you smack his arm, “I thought you promised not to bring that up ever again.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulder, chuckling, “I’m sorry but I have a duty to never let that story die, it has to be one of the best days of my life.”

You roll your eyes but still join in the laughter of the captain, Sulu, Chekov, and Scotty. You’re almost positive you see Leonard’s lip twitch, but he quickly lifts his glass and takes a huge gulp of beer. Once the laughter subsides, Jim squeezes you closer and sighs, “you know, it’s just not the same without you on the ship. I actually miss you, like, a lot.”

You gasp dramatically, “did James Tiberius Kirk just admit to feeling something?”

“I’m serious,” he says, “don’t you miss me?” His blue eyes are wide and pleading, tugging at your heartstrings.

“Of course I miss you,” you quickly look around your circle of friends, “I miss everyone. It wasn’t easy to leave, but I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

“Aw,” Jim coos, “do you mean it? You really miss me?”

You roll your eyes again despite the smile on your face, “yes, I really mean it.”

Leonard scoffs, “are you sure about that?”

You can feel the energy shift, everyone suddenly tense as you finally look up at him, “about what?”

“That you mean it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask, pulling away from under Jim’s arm.

Leonard shrugs, “sometimes people say things they don’t mean.”

“I guess,” you frown, “but why would I lie?”

“You tell me,” he replies, his expression unreadable as he takes another sip of beer.

You hesitate for a moment, the tension tangible as you scramble for words. “I’m confused,” you finally say, “Did I do something in the last twenty seconds to piss you off?”

He chuckles bitterly, “you know what? Don’t worry about it.”

The angry flame in your belly bursts into a bonfire, heating you from the inside and bordering your vision with red. “No,” you step forward ever so slightly, “you can’t just call me a liar and then tell me not to worry about it. What did I do?”

“Nothing, just forget about it. I’ll see you around,” he says, moving as if he intends to walk away.

“No!” you snap, taking another step toward him, “I won’t ‘forget about it’ either. This is not what I came here for, but if you have something to say, then say it. Or better yet, if you have something to feel, then feel it and stop pretending to be so fucking indifferent.”

He frowns, his hazel eyes full of an emotion you can’t seem to place. “Would you stop?” he murmurs, “you’re making a scene.”

Jim mumbles sarcastically behind you, “oh, how I miss the war.”

You ignore him, your glare locked on Leonard, “I’m making a scene? You’re the one that started it, but- oh wait,” you pause for dramatic effect, “that’s right; you can’t finish anything you start.”

The blow lands, because you can see the vein in his neck pulse even faster. Neither of you like to play too dirty, most of your ‘fights’ are just petty arguments, but every now and then a carefully crafted comment will remind each of you that if you wanted to, you could really hurt one another. You know Leonard isn’t proud of his divorce, and you know that bringing it up in any negative context can really get to him.

“Maybe you’re right,” his says in a low voice, “but at least I have the decency to walk away before I make a mess.”

It takes all of your self-control not to speak any louder than he did, “oh, you want to talk about making a mess?”

“No, because I’m going to leave before I say something I don’t mean.”

He turns and walks away before you can fully process what just happened. You can feel the red-hot colour of your cheeks as blood pumps through your veins twice as fast as normal, both from anger and embarrassment. Luckily, not many others noticed your little spat, and your friends had to deal with so much of that during your final weeks on the Enterprise that they’re not even phased.

You turn to Jim, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, once again wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “on the scale of Y/N versus Bones, that was like a four.”

You can’t help but giggle as he guides you toward the bar.

“It would have been a three,” you continue, “but I’ll award an extra point for the jab at his divorce.”

“Jim!” you scold, nudging his rib with your elbow.

He laughs again, louder, “what? If I have to deal with my two favourite people at war, then I’m going to make a game of it.”

You spend the rest of the night right beside Jim, trying to ignore the guilt growing bigger and uglier inside your stomach. Leonard doesn’t leave until a few hours later, having been caught by a group of his MedBay buddies who insist on fetching him drinks, and you can’t help from keeping him within your sight. You’re jealous of every single person who gets even a second of his attention or a smile directed their way, and when one of the cute young nurses leans in a little too close to him, you feel your drinks bubbling up your throat.

You decide to say goodbye mere minutes after you see the doctor walk out the door, leaving Jim to his merriment with the rest of the crew who are more than a little inebriated, though he doesn’t let you walk away until you pinkie-promise to join your friends at breakfast in the morning. That should be fun.

The walk back to your hotel feels longer than it did on the way to the party. Your feet are sore and heavy, and your stomach feels like its full of toxic waste that isn’t going to stay there for long. You didn’t even drink that much, you just can’t help feeling sick over your argument with Leonard and the way that nurse touched his arm.

You kick your shoes off the second you step into your room and wriggle out of your dress, throwing it on the floor along with everything else you can remove from your body before falling on the bed. Just as you’ve done for the past five months, you begin to play back every interaction you’ve had with Leonard since he told you to take the job at the academy, starting with the newest addition to the library from this evening. The first time you did this was the first night you spent at your cramped apartment on the academy’s campus; you thought if you dissected enough of the interaction, you might be able to figure out what went wrong. After a while you realised it had become a sort of comfort, simply remembering that Leonard did still exist and he is still out there. You often wonder if he thinks of you just as much, but you try not to feed the hope that still burns at the back of your chest, which is exactly why you’re only allowed to remember the fights and arguments. If you let your mind wander further back than that, you might not ever return to reality.

A chirp from your communicator wakes you, so you rub your eyes until you can read the cheeky message from Jim reminding you about your breakfast plans. You groan loudly as you throw the comforter back and quite literally roll out of bed. You’re not ready for another battle, but you do have unfinished business with Jim relating to your status of employment aboard the Enterprise, or lack thereof.

You hadn’t mentioned it last night because of, well, obvious reasons, but there is another factor contributing to your decision whether or not to forfeit your post as a part of Jim’s crew. Before you left, as if your boss knew this trip would tempt you to return to your friends, the academy offered you another position co-leading a brand-new programme for aspiring mechatronic engineers. It’s not necessarily your strength, but it sounds incredible, and to be amongst some of the most intelligent people in Starfleet would be nothing short of inspiring, but that meant giving up the Enterprise (and her crew) for good.

You quickly shower and change into comfortable clothes before packing most of your belongings into your duffel bag. You do have another night booked, but you’re not sure you’ll want to stay on Yorktown much longer if this morning doesn’t go well.

Unsurprisingly, Jim decided to have breakfast at the Starfleet base where most of the crew would be staying during their time on the starbase. It was just the same as the mess hall on the ship or at the academy, just a little newer with better food because most people passing through Yorktown were high-ranking or dignitaries from the Federation, and apparently, Jim Kirk was also one of those important people. The Enterprise crew were given a private buffet on the mezzanine level of the huge eating area, where two long tables were laid out with all the breakfast food you could imagine.

“I think we might have to warn Starfleet about giving the captain a big head,” Nyota says, falling into step beside you, “or soon there won’t be room for anyone else on the bridge.”

You giggle, “but if there’s no one else on the bridge, who’s going to compliment his luscious hair and his humble courage?”

She laughs too and even Spock cracks a tiny smile beside her.

“Hey Spock.”

“It is nice to see you again, Y/N,” he responds with a nod, “I regret not being able to spend more time with you last night.”

You wave your hand dismissively and continue toward the tables of food. Sulu soon joins the three of you and you chat idly while loading up plates full of food. Jim is standing at the back of the room, leaning against the wall with a coffee in one hand and using the other to animate whatever intriguing conversation he and Scotty were having. You try not to acknowledge Leonard as you approach them.

“Hey,” Nyota whispers, “we don’t have to join them.”

You shake your head, “I’m calm, I’m sure of it.”

She can’t help but snicker quietly at the comically wide smile you force across your face as you reach your group of friends.

“Good morning gorgeous,” Jim greets you as you join them, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m surprised you’re here,” you say.

He rolls his eyes, “please, I have a liver of steel.”

You can’t hold back your laughter, “is that what that was on New Year’s Eve? It was your liver of steel that made you fall off the toilet and page Len because you couldn’t feel your left butt cheek?”

You laugh a little harder as you vividly recall the state Jim had been in that night, but the laughter from the rest of the group is soft and awkward, and only then do you realise what you said. Len. Only you called him that.

Jim clears his throat before it gets too uncomfortable, “uh, anyway, have you thought about your decision?”

“Oh,” you quickly swallow the piece of pancake you put in your mouth, “right into it, then.”

He shrugs sheepishly, “I kind of have to have an answer once I’m back on duty.”

“Well,” you sigh, “then I have to tell you about something else.” You steal a glance at Leonard, noticing his cheeks a darker shade of pink than usual and you wonder if it’s because of your slip up.

You explain the offer from your boss and the programme you’d be running to the group in front of you, trying to keep your voice neutral. You don’t want to seem too resentful of the tiny apartment and dark office you currently have, but you definitely don’t want any of them to think you’re more interested in the academy’s new initiative than returning to the Enterprise.

To everyone’s surprise, Leonard is the first to speak, “it’s a good programme, I’ve heard of it.”

“You’d leave for good?” Nyota asks, “give up your position on the Enterprise?”

“And surrender from the battle,” Jim chuckles, glancing between you and Leonard with a smirk. Nyota and Spock both give him their most disapproving parent stares, and his grin disappears, “sorry, not the time.”

“Well, I was kind of hoping my friends would help me decide,” you say, looking to each of them except Leonard.

“But you know what we’re going to say,” Nyota shrugs, “we want you to come back to the Enterprise.”

“I know, but,” you look pointedly at Scotty, “you can also understand that this is a huge opportunity. I just need some advice.” You know that above the rest, Scotty is the biggest advocate for your career, and you knew he would be the most excited about the programme at the academy.

“You’re right, lassie,” he sighs, “and I’d like to say I’ve missed you the most – it’s been hell down there with just Keenser – but I could never tell you not to take this offer. You’re young, and they’ve noticed you. If you go for this now, you’ll have endless opportunities at Starfleet.”

“But you also have endless opportunities on the Enterprise,” Jim argues. “The resources for your programme only just came in and we’re in the early stages of setting it up; you could take over and lead it. It is your baby.

Your pulse quickens with excitement at the idea of running your programme, but it’s been months since you had anything to do with it. “I’d feel bad taking it over from someone else,” you say, “I couldn’t do that.”

He shakes his head, “no one has been appointed to lead it yet.”

Sulu clears his throat, “well, Captain, we do have Mr. Scott and Dr. McCoy who could lead the programme aboard the Enterprise, and the offer Y/N has is huge. There are thousands in Starfleet who would kill for this opportunity. I miss her as much as anyone else, but she could assist remotely if we need her.”

Jim frowns at his lieutenant for not picking the same side of the argument.

“You’re right, Sulu,” you smile at him before countering Jim’s scowl, “Scotty and Dr. McCoy can run it. They’re the brains behind the whole thing anyway. All I did was pitch it, so really, my job is done.”

“Your job is not done,” Nyota butts in, “you have no idea how hard the last few months have been without you.”

“That’s because I haven’t been replaced, the crew is down a man.”

“You’re not replaceable,” Jim states, his brows even closer than before, “no one could-”

“I’ll stop you right there, Captain,” you interrupt, “because there are plenty of incredible people in Starfleet who could do more than simply fill my shoes.”

Jim huffs, failing to find another counter argument.

“If I may, Y/N,” Spock says, taking half a step forward, “but you are seeking advice to assist in making the decision, are you not? Though you argue only with those who advise you to return to the Enterprise, which would suggest that you have already made this decision. Unless you are simply waiting for a better reason to return, or perhaps, for the right person to ask you to,” he pauses and turns to Leonard, “Dr. McCoy?”

The air is suddenly thick with tension, everyone gaping at Spock and wondering if they might have imagined what they just heard.

“Fire in the hole,” Jim murmurs into his cup as he takes a swig of coffee.

Leonard clears his throat, “I don’t particularly care what Y/N does, so I don’t think my opinion should matter.”

Jim coughs, almost choking on his drink, “and take cover.” He pats his chest and turns to Spock, “have I introduced you to our newest cadet in the archaeological research division? He’s amazing. Nyota, Scotty, you too.”

Without so much as a hint of subtlety, everyone disperses, leaving you and Leonard alone in the corner of the huge room.

Somehow, you find enough courage to turn to him and ask, “why did you tell me to leave?”

“I’ve answered this question a hundred times,” he sighs, “it was a great job opportunity. You would have been stupid not to take it.”

“No, this time I want the truth.”

He rolls his eyes, “why do you repeatedly insist on having this conversation, knowing exactly how it's going to end?”

You can only just hear him over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears; rage and anticipation coursing through you as you stand between the doctor and the rest of the Enterprise crew. You’ve already embarrassed yourself last night, you might as well give it one last go before you make your decision.

“Because I want the real answer,” you reply, keeping your voice even, “so we’re going to keep having it until you tell me the truth.”

“Okay, you want my advice?” he says, “take the job and give up your position on the Enterprise so that I can be rid of you and this conversation for good.”

Once again, his words knock the breath from your lungs. You can almost feel the new fractures splitting your heart into even smaller pieces, but the pain moves to the back of your mind as you realise that he did just admit something that he hasn’t before.

“So…” you whisper, searching frantically for your voice, “it was about getting rid of me, not about the job.”

An array of emotions you can’t even attempt to read cross his face in less than a second before he settles on a frown, “look, I don’t have to explain myself to you. If anything, you owe me.”

“I owe you what?”

“An explanation.”

You frown too, “what for?”

“For what you said before you left!” he snaps.

You can practically feel the sets of eyes on your back multiply, more bystanders finding interest in the exchange happening at the back of the room.

“Len, we were at each other’s throats before I left,” you say, lowering your voice, “I’m sure we both said things we didn’t mean.”

You try for a second to remember something deep and personal he’d said to you in your final weeks on the ship, but nothing comes to mind. In fact, all you can remember is petty fighting and childish arguments. It was almost as if neither of you truly wanted to hurt the other, or at least, not acutely. You never brought up the deepest and darkest pieces of pain from each other’s history, knowing it would irreversibly damage the relationship between you. The closest you’ve gotten was last night when you hinted at his divorce, saying he couldn’t finish anything he started, and even then, you felt awful.

“Not that,” he mutters, "what you said after your meeting with the admiral.”

You frown again, “that I got the grant?”

“After that.”

You have to think for a minute, playing back that day in your head as you’ve done a thousand times. Only this time, you allow yourself to remember all of it, without blocking out the parts that made your heart hurt. You gasp quietly when you realise, slowly looking up at him, “y-you’re angry because I said I loved you?”

His expression is the softest you’ve seen it in months, his hazel eyes almost green behind the sadness filling them, “I’m not angry that you said it, I’m angry because you lied.”

Tears begin to blur your vision, but you refuse to let them fall, “why would I lie about that?”

“Don’t bother, alright?” he says before clearing his raspy throat, “I heard you talking to Nyota.”

“When?”

“When you went to meet her, after we- you know, in my office,” his cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink.

You shake your head, as if it should help clear your thoughts, “I’m confused.”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” he snaps again, though this time with a little less bite.

“Well clearly, I have no idea what is going on!” You don’t care who’s watching anymore, this is the closest you’ve ever been to actually finding out what happened.

He sighs, “You called me, by accident I guess, and I heard you. You told her that you only said it because it was awkward, that you were going to take it back because you got what you wanted, and that Jim-”

“I’ll get Jim to talk to him,” you cut him off, realisation smacking you across the face. You feel dizzy as everything hits you at once and a montage of memories rush through your head. The pieces of the puzzle you’d been trying to solve for months finally fall into place, and you finally know why Leonard broke your heart that day.

“Exactly,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

You’ve spent months wondering whether it was because of the job offer itself, or because you got the grant on his behalf, but Leonard wasn’t the type to be jealous of his friends. You wondered if he simply wasn’t ready for a new relationship, or if you’d scared him when you told him you loved him, but he said it first. You even wondered, very briefly, if he’d heard some stupid rumour about you and Jim, since you knew there were some of those around, but you’d spoken about it before, even laughed about it. You never considered that the whole thing could have been one, big, stupid misunderstanding.

Leonard frowns, “You can’t seriously tell me that you had no idea what happened until now.”

“Len, I-”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I really don’t want to-”

“Leonard, please,” you sigh “would you just give me five seconds.”

“You’ve had five months,” he exclaims, “and you still can’t admit it to my face?”

“Because you’re wrong,” you snap.

His frown disappears, “I’m what?”

“You don’t know what you think you know,” you say, clasping your hands over your stomach as another wave of nausea hits you.

"I heard you say it.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves coursing through your veins like an electric current. “Yes,” you begin, “I said those things, but not about you. I-It was about the job, I… when I was in the meeting with the admiral, he offered me the job before he approved the grant, and I said yes... but I didn’t mean it. It was awkward and I needed him to say yes, so I accepted, but I never wanted the job. I didn’t want to leave the Enterprise; I didn’t want to leave you. I was in love with you. Jim was going to speak to the admiral for me, say that he couldn’t let me go, the ship needed me, and I had to run the programme, but then... well, you told me to go, so I-”

“Left,” he finishes for you, his eyes glassy as his mind wanders back to that night.

Your heart is thundering so loud you can’t even hear the commotion of the people behind you over the thrum of your pulse. Neither of you dare to speak, you don’t even know what to say. Six whole months of pain and anger, all because of a misunderstanding. If Leonard had asked you about the conversation he overhead, or if you asked him what was wrong instead of just leaving... you could have avoided the worst six months of your life. You feel stupid.

“You must hate me,” he finally says, every bit of anger gone from his voice, “I’m so sorry.”

Before you can respond, he steps to the side and strides right past you. He passes easily through the groups of people enjoying their breakfast, down the stairs, and out of the building.

-

“Ye’re barely off the ground for six months and ye already forget how ta solder straight,” Scotty shouts from the deck below.

You put down your tools and take two steps to lean over the railing and glare down at him, “for your information, I was never very good at soldering.”

He chuckles and waves a hand, returning his attention to the open machinery in front of him, ready to remedy your errors from attempting to fix it earlier. In your defence, you weren’t usually on the tools, but you wanted to be able to join in on the practical portion of the new programme when the time came, so you agreed to a month down in the warp core with Scotty to brush up on your skills. It’s been almost a week without incident, which you considered to be a personal record. Though you’re fairly sure it has nothing to do with your skills and everything to do with not wanting to end up in the MedBay.

Jim’s birthday was a couple of weeks ago, and you still haven’t spoken to Leonard since that morning. After he left, you went straight to Jim and told him you’d be back aboard the Enterprise effective immediately. You quit your job at the academy – luckily you were still within the probationary period – and had all of your belongings packed and shipped to the next Federation planet that the Enterprise is due at. You’ll be picking them up in a few days, but you honestly wouldn’t be too worried if they never showed up. You’re just happy to be home; it’s as if you never left. That is, except for Leonard.

You know you have to give him space, and obviously he wants nothing to do with you right now, so you can’t force yourself upon him even if you’d settle for just friends at this point. Your heart aches in a whole new way whenever you hear his name, but you haven’t yet run into him, and you’re not sure what will happen when you do.

“Shit,” you hiss, quickly pulling away from where you’re working to watch blood drip from your hand, “of course.”

“I told Scotty that it wasn’t a good idea putting a pretty girl like you down here,” Jim says as he wanders in from the corridor.

You scowl at him, “I’ll ignore the misogyny because I’m in pain. Can you get me the first aid kit?”

He chuckles, “I don’t think a bandage is going to cut it; you need stitches.”

“I do not,” you argue, despite the blood creating a small puddle at your feet.

“Yes, you do,” he insists, “and as a bonus, you can give Bones a heart attack.”

You take a clean rag and wrap it around your hand, allowing Jim to help as you ask him, “why would I give him a heart attack?”

He shrugs, “I’m not sure he knows you’re back aboard the ship.”

“Excuse me?”

“I haven’t spoken to him since Yorktown,” he clarifies, “I made sure he was okay after breakfast, but I didn’t tell him that you’d decided to return to the Enterprise. It didn’t seem like the time.”

You’re almost positive if looks could kill, Jim would dead on the floor right now. “But he’s the Chief Medical Officer,” you stress, “he has to know everyone aboard the ship.”

“Yes,” Jim says, “and no, there are a lot of crew members.”

“He would have had to sign me back on!”

Jim can’t help but laugh again at the way your voice cracks. “He’s been sick,” he states, “since we boarded. Doctor Gronan has been standing in for him until yesterday.”

“Doctor Gronan signed me back on,” you mutter to yourself.

“Yep.”

“Then why wouldn’t you tell him?” you exclaim.

Your captain laughs once again, shrugging as he replies, “I thought it would be fun to see how long it took him to find out.”

“This isn’t a game!”

“But it is fun.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“After you get stitched up, come on,” he sighs, guiding you toward the corridor by your shoulders, “I assume you know the way?”

“I’m familiar,” you reply, dragging your feet into the bright white hallway.

“Excellent, no detours, but first, where’s Scotty?”

“Deck below,” you mumble.

“Thank you,” he gives you a cheeky wink, “now, on your way.”

Your pulse quickens with every step you take toward the MedBay, which you’re pretty sure is why the rag you’re holding begins to soak with blood. Other crew members watch you hurry through the ship with concern, and by the time you reach the MedBay, you’re trailing little red droplets across the floor. The moment Leonard looks up from his PADD, he goes paper white and his eyes practically double in size. Despite being obviously unsettled, he looks good; you could never get sick of seeing him in his uniform.

“Hey,” you say, stepping closer to him in order to deter bystanders from eavesdropping.

He swallows thickly, “hi.”

Another beat of silence passes because you hold up your injured hand, “um, I’m bleeding.”

“Shit, sorry,” he finally notices the bloody rag, “come with me.”

You follow him into one of the treatment rooms and sit on the bed, legs swinging over the side as he pulls the stool and cart over to you.

“Sorry,” he says again as he arranges the equipment on the cart, “I- um, I didn’t know you were back.”

“I know, Jim thought it would be funny.”

He looks up suddenly, that familiar frown knitting his brows.

“I didn’t know,” you clarify, “I assumed you had signed me aboard and were just avoiding me.”

His frown softens and he opens his mouth to reply but hesitates, instead returning his attention to the bloody rag wrapped around your hand. He nods for you to show him, so you extend your arm and allow him to remove the make-shift bandage. You try not to wince when the material pulls on a dried bit of blood, but you can’t help your hand from twitching. Leonard’s own hand cups yours out of instinct; a comforting gesture that wouldn’t mean a thing to you from any other doctor but means everything from Leonard. He looks up at you, as if asking permission to continue touching you, waiting for you to nod before he starts cleaning the cut.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” he mutters.

Ironic... you think, though choose not to say it aloud. You nod again, “okay.”

Another few minutes pass as he finishes cleaning the cut, numbs your skin, and prepares to stitch it closed. He holds the dermal regenerator a few inches from your hand and it begins to whir softly, shooting out a blue beam that sews the skin back together. You let your eyes wander from the healing cut to where the doctor is touching you, his warm skin beneath the glove making yours tingle all the way up your arm and into your chest, waking up the butterflies that live in your rib cage. Their fluttering wings make it hard to breathe, and that familiar sense of anticipation and giddiness takes over any feelings of contempt or anger.

The regenerator stops and he looks up to meet your gaze, his pupils doubling their size, “all done.”

You flex your hand, “feels brand new.”

 “Give it a minute,” he says, “keep stretching, and I’ll check it over before you go.”

You watch him pack away the cart and dispose of all the bloody gauze. His hands work fluidly, not once hesitating as his muscle memory tells them where to put each tool or piece of equipment. He pulls his gloves off and for some stupid reason your heart leaps; heat flushes through your whole body, concentrating in a tight ball just below your belly as your mind replays all the things those hands have done to you.

“Let me have a look.”

You willingly put your hand back in his, praying your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. He presses gently around the faint line where your cut had been, glancing up with each new area he pushes on to see if you wince or react at all.

“Looks good,” he lets go of you hand and rolls back on the stool, “you can go back to work, just don’t lift anything heavy and please wear gloves.”

You try to fight the sheepish grin tugging at your lips, “yes, sir.”

His cheeks flush pink and you can’t help being a little proud. He stands up, avoiding your gaze as he picks up his PADD to check off a few more things, no doubt clearing you to return to work. You slide off the bed and straighten your uniform, trying to think of something else to say so you don’t have to leave. Should you make up an illness, or is that too desperate? This is the most amicable interaction you’ve had in months; you don’t want it to end.

“I jus’ want to say,” he clears his throat, “I am really-”

“I know,” you interrupt, “and it’s okay, you don’t have to apologise.”

He frowns, “you’re not angry?”

You sigh and lean back against the bed, “well, I thought about it, at first, but then realised that I gave up on us just as quickly.”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me to leave, and I left,” you reply, “I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t argue, I didn’t fight it, I just left.”

His frown doesn’t move, only his eyes, raking up and down your body twice before settling on your lips and turning that warmth below your belly into a full-blown bonfire.

“Besides,” you continue, your nerves forcing you to fill the silence, “if I honestly believed I'd heard my boyfriend tell someone that he regretted saying he loved me, I’d probably react the same way... or worse.”

He cracks a small smile and your heart races as if you’d just run five miles, but the light-heartedness on his face disappears just as quickly as it had come. “Ex-boyfriend,” he says.

You frown, “what?”

“You said boyfriend, you meant ‘ex-boyfriend’.”

“Oh,” you nod slowly, “well, actually, I don’t think I remember breaking up.”

He actually laughs, only a short chuckle, but it’s the best thing you’ve heard in months.

“I’m serious!” you insist, laughing despite your words, “neither of us actually said the words.”

His smile fades, and he looks back down at his PADD before you can figure out the new expression on his face, “regardless of words being said, I’m sure other things happened that-”

You cut him off, “what ‘other’ things?”

“I’m not naive,” he chuckles bitterly, “I’m sure there were plenty of Starfleet’s finest that were more than eager to meet the gorgeous new engineer.”

“Oh,” you know your cheeks are now glowing red, “thanks, I think, but- uh, no, I didn’t sleep with anyone.”

He looks up again, a mixture of confusion and something else you can’t quite place written across his face. Panic clouds your thoughts as you wonder whether he has slept with anyone in the time you were away. You hadn’t even considered it, hadn’t tortured yourself with that possibility because deep down he was still yours, it was almost as if a part of you knew it wasn’t over.

“Why not?” he asks.

You shrug, “too heartbroken.”

He drops his PADD on the nearest tabletop, sighing, “you have no idea how sorry I am.”

“Len, I told you-”

“Let me apologise,” he demands, stepping forward until his chest is an inch from your nose, “I need to apologise, because I don’t think I will ever stop hating myself for losing my one reason for existing.”

You gasp and then quickly forget how to breathe, holding the air in your lungs as if the slightest movement would wake you up from whatever wild dream you’d fallen into. You stare up at him, unblinking.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hooking a finger beneath your chin.

You still can’t breathe, and your head starts to spin as he slowly closes the distance between your mouths.

“If you want me to stop,” he murmurs, his lips practically brushing yours, “just tell-”

“Shut up,” you mutter, before pushing up onto your toes and pressing your mouth against his.

His hands find your waist and your bodies snap together, like two magnets alone in their own field void of any other gravitational pull. His lips taste the same, his tongue moves exactly the way you know, and he feels like home.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, your mouths barely parting before his lips catch your breath again.

You step back until your bum bumps into the bed, and with the slightest effort, he lifts you onto it. His hands spread your knees, allowing him to nestle between them as his touch makes its way up your body to your neck, the heat of his skin on yours pulling the knot below your belly even tighter. You slide forward ever-so-slightly, unable to stop yourself from grinning when you feel the hardness of him rub between your legs.

He groans and tightens a hand around the front of your neck, “careful, darlin’.”

Your grin grows wider, “I missed you.”

He pulls back and his hands return to your waist. His skin is flushed and his pupils blown wide, his lips swollen and red, and you’re almost convinced you’ve died and gone to heaven. “I missed you too,” he says, before pressing a gentle kiss against your lips.

“Do you two know there are cameras in here?” Jim asks, appearing at the door and startling both of you, “or do you just have some kinky preference for being watched?” His smirk stretches from one ear to the other, and he attempts to appear casual by leaning against the door frame but his bright eyes are sparkling with mischief.

“Do you watch all the surveillance footage, or do you just have some kinky preference for the MedBay?” you retort, your fingers curling into the fabric of Leonard’s shirt to keep him in place.

He doesn’t even try to turn around for obvious reasons in his pants, but throws an irritated scowl over his shoulder, “really, Jim?”

Jim chuckles, “what’s the matter, Bones?”

“You,” Leonard snaps, “you’re the matter!”

“Why can’t you turn around?” he asks, his voice laced with evil intent.

You reach for the small pillow at the top of the bed and lob it across the room at him, “would you fuck off?”

He laughs again, “no need to be so rude, I just wanted to see my two best friends!”

Leonard rolls his eyes, his grip on your hips tightening, “you’re about to see a lot more than you’ve bargained for if you don’t fuck off.”

Your stomach flips and a warm, tingly sense of anticipation spreads throughout your whole body.

“Fine,” Jim sighs, pushing off the door frame and taking a step back, “I’ll just watch the cameras.”

“Get out!” Leonard exclaims, turning around as Jim cackles and hurries away.

Leonard presses the button for the door to slide shut and another button to lock it.

“You don’t think he’s really going to watch the cameras, right?” you ask.

He returns to the space between your legs, splaying his hands across your thighs where your dress has ridden up, “probably.” His hands slide up under your dress and you instinctively straighten your spine, tilting your head back in a desperate attempt to get your mouth closer to his.

He stays just out of reach, his breath hot on your lips as he speaks, “so you better be a good girl and put on a show.”

And now you’re the one finding yourself hurled into danger for what feels like the dozenth time this week. At least you’re not twiddling your thumbs, hoping for something to do, but at least boredom doesn’t get you killed. At this rate, with Jim’s latest half-mad plan to get you all out of the latest crisis, you have no idea if you can say that about your position on the Enterprise.

The Enterprise’s latest incident is going to take place in a few hours. There’s been a situation on a backwater planet where an escape pod from an imploding shuttle was accidentally stranded without any chance of rescue. Unfortunately, the travelers in the pod managed to crash land on a planet with a toxic atmosphere, so they’ve been forced to stay inside their pod lest they breathe in the poisonous gas. They’ve only got a short while before their life support systems give out, which is why it’s time for the Enterprise to step in.

The only problem is that this planet is way more hostile than original scans made it out to be. What was meant to be a one man mission has quickly unraveled into a far more complex plan. More crew members will have to be sent down, and you’ll need contact with the ship so you can quickly beam everyone up before they get hurt.

You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised to receive a summons to the bridge. You’ve known Jim for a while now, and in turn he knows that he can rely on you in dangerous times such as these. You’ve more than proven yourself capable of handling extreme pressure and risks, so your caution and quick thinking pay off by plunging you back in danger again.

Jim wants a group to travel down to the surface and retrieve the pod with its survivors. You’ll go along with Sulu, Uhura, and your captain, as all of you work well together and can handle tough situations like this. Jim gave you the option to stay back on the Enterprise, of course, he’d never force you into something as perilous as this, but this won’t be the first time that you’ve risked your life to save innocent lives, and it certainly won’t be the last.

Jim had known that, but he’d still smiled with obvious relief when you agreed to take part in the mission. “Glad to have you with us,” he’d said, clapping you on the shoulder, “Now, we’ve got to get moving, and fast. You’ll have to swing by the med wing to get cleared for surface interaction. Meet us back here as soon as you can so we can finish going over details before we head out. And thanks again, Y/N.”

You’d waved off his gratitude with an easy smile. This is what you do best, after all. You accept the risks and you take the challenges. All in a day’s work. Still, the more difficult part has yet to come. This planet’s atmosphere is no joke. Even a few minutes of unadulterated skin contact on the surface of that planet could burn away your skin. That’s why you’ll need to head over to the medical wing so they can decide you’re in good enough condition to risk it, as well as give you necessary supplements to provide some protection against the acidity of the atmosphere. Besides, it’ll give you a chance to catch up with a friend, and you’ve never turned that down, either.

Your footsteps are quick as you hurry out of the bridge and down the sprawling corridors towards the medical wing. It’s as busy as ever, with blue-shirted figures darting in and out wherever you look. Still, in all of their chaos and yours, you manage to locate the one man you’re here to see in record time.

Doctor Leonard McCoy, known to some as the most intimidating medical professional on the Enterprise and to his friends as Bones, has just finished sending one patient on their way when he’s confronted with the sight of another one. Unlike most of the invalids to cross his path, though, Bones doesn’t greet you with an unhappy harrumph, nor even a sarcastic comment about what you did to land yourself in the med wing. Instead, he almost smiles. 

“Y/N. Good to see you. I don’t suppose you’re here to help out or do something nice for me?” He says dryly.

You grin. “Afraid not, Bones. I need a favor.”

He arches a dark brow, crossing the room to replenish a container of syringes. “What favor? If it’s anything more than verbal, you’re going to have to join the patient waitlist.”

You wince. “See, I was hoping you wouldn’t say that. I need you to clear me for contact with the planet. ASAP.”

Bones actually stops moving for once in his life just so he can stare incredulously at you. “Are you out of your mind? I thought Jim declared any activity on that planet to be a risk to life and resources.”

“He did,” you admit, “but that’s why I’m joining the party. The more the merrier, apparently. Uhura says she wants someone down there with functioning critical thinking skills so she can balance out Jim. We’ll be fine so long as we stick together, but I need you to clear me first.”

Bones folds his arms across his chest. “So all I have to do to stop you from going into a trap this big is to just refuse to check your condition? Done.”

You pull a face. “Bones, I’m not kidding. We have to do this.”

“Neither am I,” he fires back. “This is a stupid move and Jim knows that. I’m not letting him lose half the superior officers of this ship all at once. You’re all going to get yourselves killed. Hate me if you want, sweetheart, but I’m keeping you alive. That’s what the medical officer is supposed to do, by the way, in case you forgot.”

You sigh. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but we have to do this, you know that. Besides, if you won’t clear me, I’ll just find someone who will. Would it make you sleep easier at night if you refused to take a look at me so I made an intern give me the meds I need to breathe down there? I’m sure they’d get the prescription right on the first try.”

Bones blows a sharp breath out, but when it becomes clear that you aren’t willing to back down, he purses his lips and relents. “Fine. You’re too damn stubborn for your own good, by the way.”

You crack a grin. “From you, Bones, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He hems and haws while he runs the necessary scans, but when you walk out of the med wing, you do so with the perfect combination of supplements and injections to enable you to breathe the toxic atmosphere on the planet without dying. You’ll all be in thick suits anyway, but just in case, it’s important to take these steps to protect yourselves now. Hopefully, you won’t need them, but the downsides of skipping them are much worse than the inconvenience of a couple extra shots.

Bones makes sure to remind you of this before you go. He warns you to stay out of trouble, knowing full well that there’s no chance of that, but you nod along anyway. You glance over your shoulder right before you leave the med wing, and catch a glimpse of him staring after you, brow knit with anxiety. At this point, you have to return from this mission intact not just for your own good but his as well.

Jim and the others are finalizing the plan when you get back to the bridge. He feigns surprise when you walk in, although he can’t hide a broad grin. “Bones let you go that easily? Maybe he’s losing his touch.”

You arch a brow. “What does that mean?”

Your captain laughs. “It means he’s very protective of you. It’s cute.”

You make a face. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear you call Bones cute, and now I wish I never did.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “I’m just trying to connect to you, Y/N. I thought you’d agree with that. You two only ever spend time with each other anyway, aren’t you—”

He’s studiously interrupted by Uhura calling everyone to focus so you can get down to the planet as soon as possible. You don’t miss the pointed look she gives to Jim the second they think your back is turned, but you’ve been seeing a lot of those lately, and they only get easier to ignore. 

Contrary to what is apparently the popular belief on the Enterprise, you’re not in a relationship with Bones. It’s startling how many people here think you are, but you’re not. You’re just friends. No matter how many times Jim points out that Bones is oddly friendly and warm towards you, and offenses committed by Jim that earn hours of yelling only receive a small frown when you repeat them, the truth is the same. Jim may have a romantic goal for you and Bones, but it’s not happening. 

What is happening, however, is the mission at hand. After conferring for a while longer, you have Scotty beam all of you down to the planet surface. The ground underneath your feet is rocky and uneven, so you’ll have to be cautious. One bad spill could leave you with a torn suit, and even with your medical boosters, you want as little contact with the toxic environment as possible.

You and the others quickly make your way to the downed escape pod. Once there, you spread out, spreading a connective net between all of you before setting it on the ground and activating it. A temporary shield forms a dome in the air, sealing off the ground from the poison clouds floating low through the air. Once the life support cycles through, it’s safe for anyone without a suit to breathe. It’ll wear out soon though, especially while taking a continuous beating from the noxious gas outside, so you’ll have to move quickly.

You hurry over to the pod, knocking twice on the side before calling for them to come out. Slowly, a hatch on the side retracts, and five travelers come out, eyes wide and scared. Uhura hands them some suits, urging the victims to put them on quickly. They don’t need to be told twice, hurriedly pulling on the suits while you count down the seconds before you need to move again.

Although helpful when combating the toxic atmosphere, you won’t be able to beam up while you’re in the shield dome due to the energy signature currently keeping you alive. You’ll have to slowly let people out of the dome and hope that their suits stay stable long enough for Scotty up above to lock onto their signatures and safely retrieve them. 

One by one, the members of the doomed escape pod leave the safety of the dome. You watch them get beamed up one by one, listening to your earpiece to know when to send up the next one. Finally, the last of them is ready to be sent up, and you breathe a quiet sigh of relief. At last, an Enterprise mission that goes according to plan. 

See, you should have known better than to jinx it like that. It’s common knowledge around here that the moment you decide something is going according to plan, you’ll be proven wrong in a heartbeat, and the galaxy likes nothing better than to mess with all of you. 

So, of course, not a fraction of a second later than the time you think you’ll be alright, you notice a gap between the dome and the ground. The surface of this planet is rocky, you noticed it when you first landed. One of the escapees must have knocked into the dome generator while you were pulling them out. It wouldn’t have taken much to disrupt the field, not when it’s been fighting the acidity of the environment around you for so long. 

And, as you watch with horrified eyes, the toxic sludge from outside has already started to make its way in. All it takes is one drop. One drop, to start to wear away at the protective coating of the generators. One drop, to make its way inside the machinery. One drop, to cause a chain reaction that ends with the energy of the dome cycling back in on itself and exploding.

You have just enough time to shout for everyone to take cover before the thing goes nuclear. The last person stuck on the doomed escape pod is right beside you, and you fling your body over them to protect them from the blast. The impact slams into you a heartbeat later, knocking you to the ground. Your suit can take a beating from the toxic gas, but not a self destructing energy shield generator, and if it wasn’t already weakened from the blast, tumbling over sharp rocks is more than enough to tear holes in the side.

Instantly, the toxic gas rushes in. You scream out, feeling the poisonous fumes eating away at your skin. Everything is metallic and agonizing, the taste of copper radiating through your mouth. Somewhere in the background, you can hear Jim yelling for Scotty to beam you up now, but it’s hard to hear him distinctly when your vocal chords are taut in one constant cry of pain. You manage to endure another few seconds before blacking out, and although unconsciousness is always a bad sign when you’re on a foreign planet, your last satisfied thought before you pass out is that at least you won’t have to feel the pain anymore.

It’s quiet for a long time, dark and quiet. Peaceful, almost. You wake up slowly. It hurts to open your eyes because it’s so bright compared to the hazy blackness behind your lids, but it gets easier after a while. When you’re finally able to piece together the fact that you’re on a bed in the med wing, secluded from the main hustle and bustle so you can heal in privacy, you also realize that you’re not alone. Bones is sitting in a chair drawn up close beside you, head in shaky hands.

Bones. Oh, he must be irate. All those warnings about keeping you safe and then you went and hurt yourself like this. It wasn’t like you wanted to have your skin melted off by a toxic planet, but that’s how it goes when you try to save people. Bones, however, doesn’t care about the rest. He cares about you, as he’s put it plainly several times.

You reach over, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “Everything alright, Doc?”

He jerks up, startled, although the panic in his eyes starts to abate when he realizes you’re conscious. “I think I should be asking you that. You’re the one who came back in a pool of your own blood.”

You wince. “How bad was it?”

“Very,” he says, and that one word contains with it the gravity of a lifetime.

You can imagine how it must have gone for him, then. Bones, biding his time up in the med wing, patching up patients to distract himself from not knowing what was going down on the surface of the planet. He would have told himself it would be fine because you said it would be fine, and just as he got halfway to believing it, Jim would have rushed through the doors carrying your unconscious, bleeding, actively diminishing body. What a ghastly scene.

“You patched me up pretty well, though. I don’t feel anything.” You tell him, mostly to try and lift that desperate look on his face.

Bones lets out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, well, that’s what a cocktail of painkillers will do for you. You’ll take a while to recover, though. I can’t stop that.”

From the way he keeps shooting nervous glances at your side, though, you can tell that he wishes more than anything that he could stop it. The two of you wait in patient, terrible silence, and then Bones gives in and says what he’s been holding back all this time.

“It’s just– Dammit, Y/N, I thought you were going to die. When they brought you in, you weren’t moving. Your heart was barely even beating. I can keep giving you pills and bandages when you need them, but that won’t be enough to bring you back from the dead. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I could lose the ship, I could lose the rest of the crew, I could lose myself, but I can’t lose you.”

Your breath is shallow in your chest, and not just because of the injury. “Why?”

“You know why,” he says, refusing to look at you.

“I want to hear you say it,” you tell him.

A silence. A drawn breath. “I love you,” he says at last, “I love you, Y/N. More than anything. Didn’t know it until I thought you were dead. Didn’t think I’d have to say it until you woke up.”

Bones is not one to beat around the bush, but he still waits a beat or too longer before forcing himself to look back at you. His eyes cut to you in one clean jerk, like ripping off a bandage. You’re not here to hurt him, though. Not anymore.

“I love you too,” you tell him. “Probably longer than you.”

“There’s no reason to make this a contest,” Bones chides you, but he’s starting to smile at last.

“Why not? Scared I’ll win?” You laugh.

Bones tries to glare, but the corners of his mouth refuse to tamp down into anything sober or serious. “Cut that out.”

“Make me,” you challenge him, and he takes you up on your word by leaning forward abruptly to kiss you.

Of all the things to make you go silent, that might be your favorite. It’ll take you a while to heal, but maybe it’s not the worst thing to be stuck in the med wing for a while longer. You and Bones have plenty of things to talk about in the meantime.

star trek tag list: @w1shes43

It was a huge honor to be given the position. You had worked your whole life for a spot on the Starfleet vessel. Only a half hour ago, you had received your orders, but you were already eager to get things moving. You didn't like waiting around when there were things to be done – especially when one of those things was getting you aboard the Enterprise. You made your way toward the loading dock and chatted away with other crew members who would be boarding with you.

"Yeah, I'll be working with Dr. McCoy," you were saying to one of your crewmates and fellow doctors. "Do you know him?"

"Unfortunately," she scoffed as she rolled her eyes. Was he that bad? She must've seen the concern in your eyes because she chuckled and put her hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry about it. He's good with the medical side of things, he just needs to work on his people skills." With that she joined the line that was forming to board the docking ship.

You took a deep breath. Here we go.

When you were finally on the ship, you went straight to your room so you could get changed into the blue dress and black boots you had been given. You sat down on your bed and checked your tablet which, to your relief, was now plugged in. Your instructions were to go to Deck 10 where you would meet your chief medical officer, Doctor Leonard McCoy. The minute you were sure of your instructions, you sprang to your feet and hurried to Deck 10.

***

"Don't touch that, Jim, unless you wanna end up in the ICU for the next few weeks while we treat your collapsed lung and failing liver!" You heard a southern voice yelling not far from your work assignment. You turned the corner to see a dark haired man snatching a tool away from a lighter haired man who was wobbling around the sickbay. As you walked closer they both turned to you.

"And who might you be?" the blond man questioned as he looked you up and down. As he stumbled closer to you, you tried to hold back a laugh.

"Doctor Y/N L/N," you replied. "And you are?"

The shouting, southern man pulled him back. "Delirious," he answered for him. "Go lie down, Jim, you aren't doing well."

"I'm fine, Bones. Just let go of me, and let me stand on my own." Jim slurred. As instructed, Bones let go of him. Jim extended his hand. "Captain James T. Kirk, nice to meet you." Then he immediately dropped to the floor.

"Great," Bones huffed. He bent down and started half carrying, half dragging him across the floor. You wrapped the Captain's arm around your shoulder and helped Bones raise him onto a bed. "At least we might get some peace and quiet around here now." Bones remarked as he injected Jim with a hypo.

"That's Captain Kirk?" you questioned incredulously.

Bones nodded. "Unfortunately, yes, that is the moron that Starfleet chose to control a space-bound, flying vessel with thousands of lives on board. Not to make you nervous or anything."

"Okay..." you replied. "Hey, I'll be out of your way here in a little bit. I'm just looking for Doctor McCoy."

"You're lookin' at him," Bones answered. His brown eyes met yours and you forgot what you wanted Doctor McCoy for at all. He stared at you expectantly, and you tried to remember what you were doing there.

"Listen," he said before you compiled your thoughts. "If you're one of the doctors from Deck 13, asking to change decks because of what happened to Doctor Hiskan-"

"No, I'm actually here as Doctor Puri's replacement," you interrupted as soon as you remembered. Even though you were now a bit curious about what had happened to Doctor Hiskan.

Bones crossed his arms. "I'm Doctor Puri's replacement," he argued.

You shrugged. "Then I guess I'm your replacement," you decided, not wanting to start an argument. You knew you were there to fill in somebody's empty space. Whoever's place it was didn't affect whether you would do your job or not.

"Yeah, well, I'm not gonna need a replacement if we can't get Kirk back on his feet so he can lead the Enterprise." Bones looked over at the unconscious blond laying on the bed you had dragged him onto.

"What's wrong with him?" you questioned McCoy as you got closer to study Kirk's symptoms.

"Don't know yet," he shook his head. "Came stumbling in here 'bout an hour ago too weak to even talk." He stopped and considered what he had said. "I kinda regret fixin' that for him."

"Do you mind if I examine him?" you asked even though you fully intended to do so with or without his permission.

He gestured for you to continue. "Be my guest, but if we can't find out what's wrong with him and cure him in 2 hours, it's gonna be a real hassle explaining to the flight council why the Enterprise is still on the ground." He picked up a PADD and disappeared behind the door to his office.

You kept examining Kirk as you carefully ruled problems out. You tried to work quickly but the more you learned, the more likely it was that there wasn't a quick and easy solution. Your eyes lit up when you decided you had the answer. You went to get Doctor McCoy, but right as you were about to knock on his door, it opened and he stepped out.

"We need a solution now," he said quickly. You flipped the tablet you were using so he could see.

"Kaddu poisoning," you offered simply. He snatched the PADD away from you to study closer.

"Mind telling me what that is exactly?" he questioned.

"The Kaddu are a reptilian race and the females can breathe poison in defense against males who aren't their kin," you answered, remembering what you had read in Starfleet Academy.

Bones rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's just like him. How do we fix him?" You looked over at Kirk who was still out cold.

"The best we can do is let it wear off, but that could take at least three hours," You didn't want the takeoff to be postponed over something that would heal with time, but if the captain wasn't well, that was that.

"We don't have that kind of time so you need to find a way to get rid of it sooner," Bones replied. You knew he was right, but trying to rush the restoring could give you more problems than what you had to start with. You started thinking of alternate options.

"Wait, couldn't we just get Commander Spock to do the takeoff?" you asked, starting to get hopeful.

"Not unless he has the permission of the current captain who, lucky for us, is out like a light," Bones huffed.

"Couldn't we bend the rules a little?" you asked exasperated.

"Maybe, if Spock wasn't a pointy-eared rule book on legs."

Before you could suggest anything else Hiraku Sulu entered the medbay. "We need Captain Kirk on the bridge," he informed.

"Get Commander Spock down here immediately," you instructed him. Sulu took a curious look at Kirk before rushing back to the bridge.

Bones shook his head. "You're not gonna get him to break the rules," he stated. You walked over to Kirk.

"You're right, so get over here and help me wake him up."

Kirk sat up in the bed mumbling to himself while you and Bones waited for Spock to arrive. His delusions were getting worse, and his slurred speech didn't make it any easier to know what he was saying. You looked over at Doctor McCoy who was slowly pacing the Sickbay. His brow was furrowed in concentration and he had a hand resting at his mouth. He looked over your way and your gaze snapped away. You had only just realized you'd been staring. Before you had the time to be embarrassed, Spock arrived, and you snapped your attention back to the project at hand.

"Took ya' long enough!" Bones greeted him. "Get over here and listen to your captain give you orders to start the flight."

"Doctor, I believe I am owed an explanation." The Vulcan inferred. McCoy explained the situation with no small annoyance and with a few of his own choice words. After Spock was all caught up, Kirk started speaking louder as if he was addressing a crowd. You tried to quiet him down while Bones and Spock argued in the background.

"Medical code states that the treatment and transport of a patient is to be determined by his attending physician!" McCoy declared.

Spock turned to you. "You are his attending physician?"

Were you? You thought Bones was. You glanced behind Spock to see Bones vigorously nodding his head.

"Yes," you said hesitantly.

"And what do you think is best for your captain?" Spock questioned.

"I'm your captain!" Jim interrupted.

"I think he'll be better if we can get this ship moving," you decided.

Spock was quiet for a moment before saying, "Very well. Captain, your permission is required for me to start the launch." Kirk suddenly stopped talking and stared blankly at Spock. "Captain," Spock tried again to get a response. Kirk suddenly reached forward and grabbed either side of Spock's head.

"How do you think with these on your head?" he affronted Spock has he examined his ears. You and Bones rushed to the Vulcan's rescue and held Kirk's hands down.

"It is not my place to question your diagnosis--" Spock began.

"You're right, it's not," Bones interrupted. "Jim, just say 'start the launch'!" he commanded as he struggled to keep the captain's hand away from Spock. Even with Bones's persuasion skills, Kirk didn't give the order.

Can someone just hypo him? you thought as you held Kirk's other hand down.

As if the doctor had read your mind, he grabbed a hypo and pointed it in Kirk's direction. "So help me, I'll hypo you again, Jim!"

That made Kirk hesitate. He stopped struggling and glared at the hypo as if he had a personal vendetta against it.

"Start the launch," he finally grumbled.

Bones rolled his eyes. "Was that so hard?" he queried. Then, without any warning, he injected Kirk with the hypo he held in his hand.

"Hey!" Kirk yelled before collapsing unconscious on the bed. Bones tossed the now empty hypo to you and shooed Spock out of the medbay.

"Just in the nick of time," you remarked as you looked at the time.

"Yeah," Bones snorted. "Good thing you were here. I wouldn't have figured that out in near enough time."

You smiled at the praise. "I'm here to help," you responded.

Bones raised his brow. "You can prove that by taking inventory on the new supplies," he said as he handed you a PADD.

You smirked. "Sure, and while I'm at it, maybe I can find some more lemons for you to bite into," you teased as you took the PADD.

Bones rolled his eyes. "I'll let that slide today because you were quick on your toes. But just today, keep that in mind," he added with a short chuckle before walking back to his office.

You turned around to face the supplies, and without another moment's hesitation you officially started your first day of work on the U.S.S. Enterprise.

***

It had been a month since you joined the crew of the Enterprise. It had proved to be just challenging enough for your liking. You were always doing something, always busy. Every day seemed to bring some new and exciting predicament into your infirmary.

It was a good thing that you and Bones made such good team. To cut the work in half you and Bones had divided the sickbay in two (one side for you, and the other for him). The two of you worked back-to-back in a pleasant rhythm.

You had just finished some last minute tasks on your side and looked over at McCoy. He was frowning at a PADD as he harshly pressed the buttons on it.

"What did that tablet do to you?" you teased as you walked over with a smirk.

Bones tossed the PADD onto a nearby bed. "It just stopped working, cold turkey," he grumbled.

"I guess I'd better get back to work then," you joked as you walked back over to your side. He followed you over and rolled his eyes.

"Not what I meant," he said as he picked another tablet up. "Have these things been workin' for you?"

You furrowed your brow. "Actually I think one quit on me yesterday," you informed. You hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but now it seemed a little strange. You looked around, and some of the nurses seemed frustrated with their PADDs too. "What do you think it could be?"

"I'm a doctor not a mechanic," Bones reminded you. You were about to try a different PADD when Captain Kirk walked into the med bay.

"Jim, our tablets aren't working down here," Bones complained before the captain could get one word out.

Kirk sighed. "They aren't on the bridge either. I was hoping for a different story here," he said. "How's the medical equipment?"

"Working. For now," Bones grunted. Did he really think they would go out too?

"If the medical equipment goes out we'll be in big trouble," you commented.

Jim looked over at you like he just noticed you were there. "Have we met?"

"Hardly," you responded trying to hold back a laugh as you remembered the last time you had seen your captain in person. "I treated you when you were high on Kaddu poisoning."

"Right," he said. "I guess we should pick up where we left off." He extended his hand to you. "Captain James T. Kirk." Bones pushed him back by his shoulder.

"Can you focus on the task at hand instead of flirting with every girl you see?" he growled. Kirk brushed him off.

"Ah, Bones, not every girl I see, just the good looking ones," he said with a quick wink to you. Bones rolled his eyes and grumbled something under his breath.

"Doctor McCoy is right, Captain," you said trying to direct Kirk's attention back to the problem. "Our PADDs are where we keep our medical records and files."

"I'll get Scotty on it." Kirk promised. "Until then, Bones, you'll have to fill out hardcopies of your files." You could almost feel your wrist cramping for the doctor. Even though there were some files you had to have hard copies for anyway, you knew that adding all the files you put on the PADDS to the list would make things much more difficult for him.

You heard Bones swear under his breath. "Listen, Jim, I'm a doctor not a secretary!" Kirk clapped Bones on the shoulder in mock sympathy.

"I'm sure it'll be no problem you being the chief medical officer and all," he taunted. "And if it is I might have to replace you with another more attractive option." He looked over at you and smiled. You would've blushed if you hadn't known his words were empty. With a final pat on the shoulder he added to Bones, "Don't take it personally," and walked out of the med bay.

Bones turned back to his side of the med bay grumbling to himself. You stared after him realizing you probably shouldn't let him sulk off like that, but you sighed and returned to your own work.

Later in the day Scotty and Keenser came to Sickbay and collected all the tablets. You watched as Bones grudgingly gave the tablets to them, and you couldn't help but feel bad for him. You knew that paperwork was no fun, especially when doing it alone. You walked over to Bone's side of the medbay.

"Doctor McCoy," you called to get his attention. He looked up from what he was doing, and walked over to you.

"It's Bones," he commented before letting you continue.

"Bones," you corrected yourself as a couple nurses raised their brows. "If you want, I could stay here and help you with the paperwork," you offered. You noticed by now that some of the nurses had cleared off his side of the room. Had you done something wrong? You started second guessing yourself, but you saw Bone's eyes go soft for just a moment. It didn't last long but you couldn't get the look out of your mind.

"Well it would be nice to actually get some help around here," he commented with a side glare to the nurses who had scurried away.

"See you later then," you said as you hastily turned on your heel and continued to work for the rest of the day.

***

It had been a couple weeks since the all the PADDS had been taken from you and Doctor McCoy. You both stayed late at work to fill out papers, and as a result you and Bones kept losing more and more sleep.

Nobody had expected the PADDS to be gone this long, and people had started noticing other electronic devices giving way. Captain Kirk had reported losing power on the bridge once or twice, which always scared people. But you had to be honest with yourself; you hardly even processed the reports from the bridge anymore. Your lack of sleep just made you more stressed during the day and it took a lot of focus not to turn into a grump like McCoy.

You looked over at him now. His hair was unkempt and his shirt was wrinkled, most-likely from not having enough energy to care about sleeping in it. He seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face even more than before. You used to pass the time with talking, but the only time you talked to each other now, was when you were so bored with paperwork that you finally resorted to social interaction. You felt a buzz on your wrist as your watch told you it was time to clock out. You shut it off and sighed, knowing that the real work had only just begun.

You walked over to McCoys office and opened the door to see him already drowning in papers.

"You should go to bed." Bones grunted without looking up.

"And you shouldn't?" you retorted as you pulled up a chair. "I'm not leaving you to do all this by yourself." You just then realized how much it actually was. It could have just been sleep deprivation talking, but you thought this was the biggest workload yet. Bones glanced over at you but didn't respond and you started filling out the papers.

Two hours of nothing but paper, pen, and ink drove you crazy, and you had to set the pen you were holding down and lean back for a minute. You didn't dare close your eyes for fear of falling asleep and Bones trying to finish this by himself, but you massaged your cramped wrist and stretched your back. You were about to pick up the pen and continue when the speakers in the office suddenly burst out static. You cringed at the sound but it eventually faded away and what came next was even worse. It had to be the corniest southern music you had ever heard blaring through the speakers filling the room. Bones stood up and gave you a questioning look before opening his comlink.

"Jim, what's this?" he yelled over the music. A groggy voice answered.

"What's what, Bones? Is it so important you had to wake me up?" Kirk questioned.

"Sorry to disrupt your beauty sleep, your highness, but could you turn this down or off," Bones scoffed.

"What are you talking about?" Kirk asked exasperated. The music was getting louder at the chorus and you scrambled to find a remote as Bones yelled at Kirk. When you found the remote, the power button didn't work so you had to just turn the music down. Looking up you saw Bones stomping over to you.

"He hung up, that little--"

"The music might actually be nice," you interrupted. "Something to occupy the other half of our minds?"

Bones grunted and trudged back to his desk. You sat down and grabbed the pen, but you couldn't seem to bring your hand to the page. The slow music in the background certainly wasn't helping you stay awake and you were about ready to fall asleep on the desk. You felt your eyes fill with tears and you buried your head in the papers so Bones wouldn't notice. You just wanted to stop doing insane amounts of paperwork every night. Sure you had volunteered in the first place, but you could hardly do it with two people let alone with one. You were about to crash and go to sleep right there when suddenly the music turned up. You looked up to see Bones extending his hand to you.

"You need a break and so do I," he said, prompting you to take his hand. "I actually know this song."

You wanted to just keep working and get the job done, but Bone's soft and caring expression drew you toward him and you took his hand. He pulled you closer to him and rested his hand on your waist. You placed a hand on his shoulder and let him lead you in a slow rocking movement. You held his hand firmly and let him hold you close to him so he could keep you from falling over from exhaustion. You rested your head on his shoulder and even though you felt tired enough to collapse into his arms your heart seemed to be wide awake and very excited to be so close to the doctor. You felt Bones rest his head on yours as he gently lead you to the rhythm.

"I can't let you keep overworking yourself, Y/N," he muttered into your hair. You lightly shook your head.

"Work is much more difficult when you're alone," you commented quietly. He let go of your hand and wrapped both of his arms around you. You hugged his neck and closed your eyes just for a second.

"Well, if anyone is going to help me, I'm glad it's you," he mumbled. You raised your head to look into his eyes. They looked back softly, and he pressed his head against yours.

"Me too," you agreed. He smiled and kissed you gently. You suddenly didn't seem so tired as you smiled into his kiss and hugged him closer to you.

"I love you, Y/N," Bones whispered.

"And I love you, Leonard McCoy," you whispered back. Bones took you by the hand.

"We can finish this tommorow," he decided. "It'll be easier if we're well rested." You nodded in agreement and followed Bones as he lead you to your room.

You stood in the doorway for a moment before saying, "Believe it or not, I may actually be looking foreward to the paperwork tommorow."

Bones chuckled and started walking back to his room. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight." You turned around wondering how you would ever get to sleep now, but as soon as you hit the bed you were out cold.

You jumped awake to the sound of Captain James Kirk finishing an announcement over the speakers. Because you were still waking up, you didn't catch all of the annoucement, but you would just ask Bones about it later. You checked the time and saw that you majorly overslept. You quickly got dressed and rushed to Sickbay.

"Sorry I'm late," you said to no one in particular as you jogged through the door. Bones walked over to you immediately.

"Tablets are working again," he said as cheerfully as he seemed capable. "Something about accidentally stumblin' into an electromagnetic field? Fried a couple circuits, including some of the radios, but we should be gettin' out of it now."

You didn't really know how to respond to that. Obviously it was good news, but you wanted to spend more time with Bones.

He must've guessed what you were thinking because he walked closer to you and hugged you. "Hey, this isn't a bad thing. Now we can spend time together under not-so-stressful circumstances."

Initially you had been concerned about getting into a relationship with Lance, he worked for the FBI, he worked on relatively dangerous cases and he was a shrink.

The shrink factor alone wasn’t reassuring, yes, he was more likely to be able to tell your moods however he was also more likely to figure out things that maybe you didn’t want him to.

As time went on the two of you did go from strength to strength and whilst his tendency to shrink you could get on your nerves, it hadn’t proven to be frustrating.

That was until you’d started to try to start a family – it wasn’t going how you wanted it to, and it was getting it to you, but you didn’t want to let Lance down.

He had started to realise that your feelings weren’t what you were telling him and that concerned him, he always knew you to be honest with him but when he realised that you weren’t seeming yourself then naturally, he was worried for you.

When he came home from work that evening, he found you curled up on the sofa, a blanket cocooning you as you slept.

He couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful you looked but he then frowned when he noticed the tear tracks on your cheeks.

“Darling?” he questioned softly as he crouched down in front of you, gently shaking you awake.

You hear Lance’s voice and opened your eyes to see him looking at you in concern. “You’re home,” you stated, not realising how long you had been asleep for.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, sitting up and rubbing at your face. “Nothing Lance, I’m okay.”

He sighed as he moved to sit next to you, pulling you into his side. “Why have you been crying?”

You were about to deny it but you just couldn’t blatantly lie to his face and so you sighed, crumbling into his embrace.

He manoeuvred the two of you so that you were cradled against his chest, him stroking your hair as you gathered your thoughts.

“It’s not going how I wanted it to,” you eventually admitted.

“What isn’t?” he asked gently, still stroking your hair.

Sighing again you tried to burrow further into Lance’s chest. “Us, a family, it’s not happened yet.”

“These things take time darling, you know that” he reminded you.

“Almost half a year of time?”

You felt Lance kiss the top of your head. “Everyone is different, it isn’t always possible to put a timeframe on things.”

“But I want us to have a family,” you all but whispered. “I want us to have a baby.”