Fic: Consort, Chapter 4

The buzz of the communicator in his scrub pants pocket brought an immediate scowl to Leonard McCoy's face.  Having just signed off on the last of the patient charts for that night's shift, he had no further plans beyond a light breakfast and a long nap, and another convo with yet another Starfleet official would make an unwelcome addition to his schedule.  There had been way too many of those already, and lying didn't come easily enough to him to make them comfortable.

But a quick check showed that this particular comm code was one he didn't want to ignore.

Oh

Damn, son, better get your ass in gear

He replied to the comm, ran a comb through his hair, and sprinted down to the cafeteria in the main Medical building.  Scanning the press of hospital staff exchanging shifts, he finally spotted her off to one side, a patch of grey among the blue and white, dark head down, checking her communicator.  An odd mix of anticipation and voyeurism coiled inside him as he watched her frown at the device, then snap it closed to raise her head and scour the stream of humanoids in an uncanny imitation of his own actions until her eyes finally found his.  Neither of them moved at first; then her chin tipped to one side, acknowledging that he'd been watching her, and from the slow, small smile that touched her face, he figured she didn't mind.  

His feet moved then, propelling him toward her as she waited near the wall, her face gradually tilting upward to keep her eyes fixed on his as he neared until he stood right in front of her, her head barely reaching his shoulder and bent upward as much as his was bent down.  

No sound but his blood in his ears, no sight but her.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself.  You up for coffee?"

"Does the pope shit in the woods?"

She exhaled a laugh through her nose as she shook her head.  "Such a way with words."

"Well, I has been well schooled in learnin'."  He placed his arm lightly around her shoulders as they pushed through the throng to the thermal carafes and obtained two cups on his credit chip.

"Let's sit outside.  It's warm enough, and there's no room in here."

She was right; the morning sun had already warmed the outdoor metal chairs enough to be comfortable even at the early hour.  They sat across the table and sipped in companionable quiet for a few minutes until she broke the silence.

"How was your night?"

"Busy.  Started off by seeing Jim, then pretty routine after that, but busy."

"What was he here for?  Or can you tell me, Dr. Patient Privilege?"

"Nothing you don't already know.  His headaches aren't getting better, and from what I've seen and what Spock says, they're actually getting worse."

A frown flitted across her features.  "But that's not what he told me.  I just saw him the other day at HQ -- he was heading into another of those stupid briefings, and I asked him how he was.  He said he was doing fine, better even."

"Well, he spun you quite the yarn.  I've had to up his dose of methacetam twice in the past week and a half.  I don't have a whole lot left in my bag of tricks for him."

She nodded.  "I did think he looked a little off.  Pale or something.  So what's the next move?"

"Spock wants to take him to New Vulcan to see a healer.  He thinks the headaches have something to do with their bond."

"But he told me they didn't start until after he went back to work, that he was fine up until then."  The frown was back, an irresistible pair of vertical lines between her eyebrows; he imagined smoothing it away with his lips and took a swallow of coffee to hide the thought before answering.

"Hard to tell with Jim; he makes it damn hard to have his back.  Half the time I don't know if what he's telling me is legit or not.  Anyway, I've done all I can, short of relieving him of duty, and since I'm gonna do that anyway, he might as well spend that off-duty time on New Vulcan.  Wouldn't hurt to get the bond checked out anyway; it's got to be hard for a Human."

It was getting warmer outside; she pulled off her cap and placed it on the table, smoothing her hair with one hand.  "You're going with him, aren't you?"

"If they actually go, yeah, I'll tag along.  Not that I don't trust Vulcan healing, but I figure a dose of good old-fashioned doctoring alongside all that mumbo-jumbo couldn't hurt."

"If they go?  I thought you just said Spock was taking him."

"I said Spock wants to take him.  Jim has other ideas."

The frown again, fiercer this time.  "He doesn't want to go?"

"He says he's fine, doesn't need anyone else looking into his head, even though it hurts like a motherfucker practically every day.  I think he's tired of being poked and prodded.  Off the record, I also think he's pushing back because it was Spock's idea to go see a healer.  His nose got way out of joint when I told him I thought it was a reasonable plan."

"Well, if the two of you are ganging up on him, he doesn't stand a chance.  When would you leave?"

"Once duty shift is over on Friday, assuming we can drag Jim along, kicking and screaming if need be.  This latest round of interrogations should be over by then."  He took a breath and inspected his coffee cup carefully before looking up at her.  "You wanna come with?   Get some leave time, spend a week on New Vulcan?"

She looked off to the side, turning her head so that he could see the single silver pin that kept her hair in its neat bun, and he saw himself leaning forward over the table to seize the pin and pull it out, with his fingers or with his teeth, to watch her shake her hair down to spill over the shoulders and back of her duty uniform, to run his hands through the shining strands and pull on them, just a little.  

The corners of her mouth crooked down in mock contemplation as she turned back to him.  "Hmm.  Spend a week with my three favorite guys on a beautiful planet with great weather and a fascinating culture, or spend another week indoors tied to a chair reciting the Romulan-Standard dictionary in all three dialects while wearing uncomfortable headphones and feeling blood clots develop in both legs.  Now let me think..."

He was laughing by the time she got to 'clots,' his heart forming a bubble of hope in his chest.  "I guess you're on board."

She nodded over her cup.  "Sounds like fun.  I can record a lot of the vocabulary segments I'm working on remotely and upload them so I don't hold up the editor.  And after the vocab, all we have is proofing and I'm done with that project.  So yeah, this isn't a bad time to go."

He smiled and took another sip of coffee.  "I can't believe I'll be learning Romulan from you, or at least your voice.  Assuming I qualify for the training, that is."

"I thought you has been well-schooled in learnin'."

"Yeah, well, I meant in the three R's.  I'd have to beef up my linguistics background to pack in a fourth."

"I'm sure your linguistics are just fine.  Anyway, maybe we can get..." -- she paused for a beat and examined her own cup -- "...some alone-time while we're there.  If you're not too busy fixing Jim, I mean.   Maybe we can talk about fixing a few things about ourselves, too."

The bubble expanded and rose up into his throat, painful now.  He tried to swallow it back down and failed.

"What do you mean?"

"Leonard."  Her forehead wrinkled for a moment before deliberately smoothing out, and her next words came quickly.  "We never really see each other at the apartment.  My shift starts at 0700 and you don't leave Medical until 0730 most days.  Then when I get home you're asleep, and when I wake up, you're gone again.  It's like we don't even exist in the same space.  So I think we need to make a change."

Oh shit

"Uh-huh."

"I was wondering if you'd consider..."

moving out

"...moving to the day shift."

He was aware that he blinked, hard, once.  "Moving...to days?"

"Yes, that's right.  What do you think?"

"Because...?"

"Because there's no night shift for what I do, and I'd like to see more of you than just a few hours on the weekends."

"More of me...?"

He was also aware that he was repeating her words like a total idiot.

"Look, I...I'd like us to spend more time together.  I want to spend more time with you."

He looked at his hands curled around his coffee cup and realized that he had lost feeling in them, and in his feet and legs too, his limbs not his any longer, they having apparently abandoned all connection to him.  He flexed nerveless fingers to make sure they hadn't and they responded sluggishly as if they had.  

She reached across the table to stroke the backs of those fingers with hers, the electric sensation raising every little hair on the back of his neck, and he abruptly flipped his hand over to close his fingers around her hand and found it shaking.

"Nyota, are you saying you want us to be..."

Her head was already nodding yes as she smiled tremulously, as uncertain of his reaction as he was himself, and he moved his other hand to clasp hers between both of his, the bubble gently bursting and dissolving in a flare of cautious warmth.

"I hate to ask this.  But." 

You need to know that I'm gonna take it very seriously if we decide to go there, that I'd do my damnedest to make it work out

"Are you sure?"

She swallowed once and nodded again.  "I'm sure.  I've waited long enough to be sure.  It's just up to you if you want to move forward."

He traced the lines on her palm with one hand, staring at the motion of his index finger, wondering why it was so hard to form the single word.

"Can you take the day off?  Walk a bit with me, maybe head back to the apartment...?"

"Not if I'm taking next week off to go to New Vulcan with you; I have to get things to a certain point before I can go.  But if you switch your schedule to days..."

Just say yes dumbass

But he only nodded, watching in horror as his disobedient hand brought hers up to his mouth, closing his eyes as he crushed his lips against her palm, knowing it was too soon and too desperate, and fearful, as he greedily inhaled the scent of soap and lotion, that she would know it too.

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