Archive of Our Own

Nyota did not, as a rule, allow Gaila to set her up on dates.

There had been an incident second year involving a very eager man with a great many tentacles, and Nyota had no desire to repeat it. Ever. Well, sober Nyota didn’t want to take the chance. Drunk Nyota, as it turned out, was slightly more open to persuasion.

“You’d really like him,” Gaila wheedled, sliding another Klavnian fire tea toward Nyota. “He’s bipedal and everything.”

“The tentacle man was bipedal,” Nyota shot back, shuddering in spite of herself. The fire tea didn’t soften the memories the way she’d hoped it would.

“You’re being a little speciest, don’t you think?” Gaila said with a sniff. “And anyway, that was how many years ago now? Seven? Come on, I know you better now. This guy has two arms and two legs. That’s all. I swear.”

“Four limbs,” Nyota muttered. “Excellent.” She might be on the rebound, but she thought she could set her standards a little higher than that.

“Four limbs and a PhD,” Gaila added, and Nyota’s head snapped up. Gaila leaned in closer, scenting blood in the water. “He was first in his class at the Academy,” she practically purred. “He graduated from high school when he was fifteen.”

“What’s the catch?” Nyota asked, narrowing her eyes.

Gaila only flashed a white toothed smile. “No catch,” she said breezily, so there was definitely a catch. “Being spontaneous is part of the friendship code, remember? Rule sixty-nine.”

Nyota resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. “I keep telling you, just because we had to go to roommate mediation first year does not mean we have a friendship code.”

“And I keep telling you, if we did have a friendship code, spontaneity would be rule sixty-nine.”

Somehow, against her better judgment, Nyota agreed to the date with the bipedal valedictorian who had a PhD.

Now she was sitting in a bar on Starbase 12, half hoping the guy showed up and half hoping he didn’t. Bipedal and smart, she reminded herself, resisting the urge to drum her fingertips on the table. She could handle that. She’d been single for six months. It was time to get back in the game.

If the bar hadn’t been half empty, she probably wouldn’t have noticed Leonard McCoy walk through the door. No, she thought, surely not. Even Gaila would’ve known better than to set her up with a fellow officer. But from the way his eyes swept across the bar, it was obvious he was looking for someone. Nyota fumbled for her jacket before he spotted the blue dress Gaila had insisted she wear. Maybe she could slip out the back and spare them both the embarrassment.

His eyes locked on hers as soon as she stood up. He looked completely panicked. Then he turned around and said something to the bartender. Nyota let out a breath. Maybe he wasn’t here for her. He didn’t want to see a coworker on a night out, that was all. She slid back into her seat and resumed watching the door.

Two minutes later, a large, calloused hand deposited a mug of Klavnian fire in front of her.

“Didn’t know if you were going to stick around for the drink,” Leonard said, sliding onto the stool next to hers.

Nyota felt herself flush and she schooled her face into something approximating a smile. The situation wasn’t his fault; surely he hadn’t known Gaila’s plans. And if he did? Well, she’d just have to explain that she wasn’t looking for anything with a member of the senior staff. They were both adults; they could survive the mild embarrassment.

“I have to be honest, Leonard. I had no idea you were who Gaila had in mind,” she said, opting for the direct route. “If I had --”

Leonard waved a hand. “Believe me, I understand.” Then he blanched. “Not that you’re not -- I mean, you’re very --”

His eyes dipped to the neckline of the blue dress, which was cut quite a bit lower than Nyota’s usual fashion choices.

“We should drink,” Nyota said hurriedly, and Leonard nodded his agreement. She swirled her the fire tea, considering how best to navigate the flames, then she looked back up at Leonard. “Wait, how did you know my drink order?”

Leonard cocked an eyebrow. “Believe it or not, not that many people like drinks that are actually on fire. It’s a distinctive choice.”

“Well, I like a challenge,” Nyota allowed, feeling slightly warmer -- though maybe that was just the flames she’d swallowed. She wondered what else Leonard had noticed about her. Then a horrible thought occurred to her, and she felt herself flushing again. “What exactly did Gaila tell you about me to make you agree to a blind date?”

She could think of lots of options, none of which she would want a coworker to know. Talks dirty in seventy-two languages, likes to be on top seemed likely.

Leonard offered her an impish grin that made him look ten years younger. “Eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man, if the tongue didn’t get me first.”

Nyota blinked. “And you found that attractive?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Leonard said.

Was he flirting? Nyota wondered. And was she going to flirt back? No, she told herself, absolutely not. But he did have nice dimples. Mussed hair and stubble weren’t really her thing, but he was hardly unpleasant to look at. Why waste a good evening? She could decide how to kill Gaila later. Now she waved at the bartender for another drink.

“Next round’s on me,” she said. That ought to make her intentions clear. Flirting or no, this wasn’t a real date.

Leonard looked at her appraisingly. “What did Gaila tell you to make you agree to this?”

Nyota shifted on her bar stool, giving herself a moment to think. Telling the truth would mean admitting that Leonard was, in some ways, exactly her type -- but then, he’d already said as much to her.

“Bipedal,” she said. “No tentacles.” At least she could tease him a little, make him draw it out.

Leonard cocked an eyebrow. “Nyota, if that’s all you’re going for, you’ve set your sights a little low.” He looked her up and down in a way that made heat flood across her cheeks -- and maybe a few other parts of her anatomy.

“There was more,” she said levelly, hoping he couldn’t see the pulse jumping in her throat. “She might have mentioned you were first in your class at the Academy. And you graduated from high school when you were fifteen.”

Now it was Leonard’s turn to flush. Nyota had known he was smart, of course. He couldn’t be the CMO of a starship like the Enterprise if he weren’t, friendship with Jim notwithstanding. But unlike other members of the Enterprise crew, he rarely drew attention to his own accomplishments; he spent much more time trying to take care of people
than trying to impress them.

“I imagine a high school in rural Georgia’s easier to graduate from than whatever fancy school you attended in Nairobi,” he said after a sip of bourbon. “What was it? The African Leadership Academy?”

Nyota was surprised he knew. They’d rarely spent time alone together, and when they did, their conversations had been focused on the mission at hand -- or the mission they’d just survived. He must have been paying more attention to her than she realized.

She shook her head. “Uh-huh. I recognize a deflection when I hear one. What does a fifteen-year-old high school graduate do with himself?” She couldn’t picture fifteen-year-old Leonard wandering around a college campus, shy and awkward as Chekov had been at the Academy -- but then, she was realizing there was a lot she didn’t know about the man.

Leonard snorted. “I went to work on a deep sea mining rig.”

“At fifteen?” Nyota asked, nearly choking on her drink. Deep sea mining was dangerous. Imagining teenage Leonard McCoy at the bottom of the Mariana Trench was even harder than imagining him at university.

“I was sixteen, by the time I got there,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t exactly advertise my age.”

He must have been very tall, Nyota thought stupidly. Strong, too, to get a job on a mining rig. She pushed down the thought before she said anything embarrassing. Instead she settled for, “Your parents were okay with that?”

“I doubt it,” Leonard said, shrugging again. “That’s why I didn’t ask them.”

“Wait a second. Are you, Leonard McCoy, telling me that you ran away from home to work at the bottom of the ocean with a forged identicard? You’ve been lying to us all these years. You’re just as much an adrenaline junkie as we are!”

“Tell anyone and I’ll deny it. Anyway, I never claimed I wasn’t a damn fool. I’ve just learned my lesson.”

Nyota shook her head. She had to hand it to Gaila: this was an interesting conversation, even if neither of them intended to take the evening any further.

“Okay, I have to know. How did you get from deep sea mining to medical school?”

“My dad got sick. I came home.” Leonard’s face stayed carefully neutral, but Nyota saw the light dim in his eyes. This time she wouldn’t push back if he tried to change the topic.

“How about you? Why linguistics?” he asked, motioning to the bartender for another round.

Nyota took another sip of her drink, trying to smooth away her automatic defensiveness. One too many men had inquired about her linguistic skills just to set up a quip about her talented tongue -- but then, she hadn’t dated since she was at the Academy, and Leonard wasn’t like Jim and Gaila. He didn’t throw out sexual innuendos with every other breath.

“My mom took us to New Tanzania colony when I was eleven,” she said, unable to stop herself from smiling. When she was sure her listener was truly interested, this was one of her favorite stories. “This group of guys walking behind us was planning to mug us. I didn’t understand any of it, but my mom did. She turned around and cursed them out in Dholuo.”

Leonard gave her another one of his lopsided grins. “So you learned however many dozen languages to deter the maximum possible number of beings from mugging you?”

Nyota shook her head. “Not quite. Those guys my mom cussed out -- they were embarrassed, of course, but it was more than that. It was like as soon as they knew my mom spoke their language, she was one of them. They couldn’t think about hurting her anymore.” She stared down into the flames in her cup, trying to find exactly the right words. “What I really want is to tell as many beings as I can that underneath everything else, we really are all the same.”

“Are we?” Leonard asked. She waited for the acerbic rejoinder -- could’ve fooled me, the way those Romulans were shooting at us last week -- but it didn’t come. Noticing her hesitation, he added, “That’s a real question, by the way.”

If she weren’t an expert in body language, maybe she wouldn’t have noticed his quiet interest, but with all her training, it was obvious. His body angled toward her, his head tilted slightly, and his eyes never wavered from her face - not even when the bartender dropped a tray of ice on the floor with a clatter. It shouldn’t have disconcerted her, but she her cheeks were hot and her throat was dry, and she swallowed hard before she found her voice.

“Everyone I’ve ever met wants to be loved, respected, to feel like they’re part of something,” she said. “They try to get those things in different ways, and not all of those ways make sense to us yet. But if we try hard enough, we can understand. I have to believe that.”

For a second, she thought Leonard was about to kiss her, but no, that was just the Klavnian fire tea talking. How many had she had now? Three? That was probably one too many for not-a-date. Not a little reluctantly, she slid off her bar stool and pulled on her jacket. Better to get out now, before her good sense deserted her.

She squeezed Leonard’s hand. “Thank you for tonight, Leonard. It’s been too long since I made a new friend.”

The following week, Nyota saw Leonard everywhere but never got a chance to speak with him. He ran around the track while she was at dance class, stood a few places ahead of her in the mess line, and went to the same holovid screenings she and Gaila attended. But each time she saw him, he was embroiled in an argument with Jim, or she was debating literature with her book group or picking music with her choral ensemble. Walking over to speak with him seemed, well, conspicuous.

Almost a week passed after their not-a-date before she saw him sitting in the back corner of the mess hall by himself. It wasn’t an opportune moment: the red alert sirens had quieted hours ago, but judging from Leonard’s haggard expression, he had only just gotten out of surgery. And Nyota could guess who he’d been operating on. Jim had shoved Chekov away from the nav console seconds before it had exploded. Chekov had escaped with minor burns, but Jim hadn’t been nearly so lucky. She shivered at the memory of his lifeless body on the deck, blood pooling around him.

Well, that settled it. She didn’t want to be alone right now, and she’d been wanting to speak with Leonard all week. Pushing aside her misgivings, she picked up her tray and marched toward his table.

To her surprise, Leonard’s face softened when he saw her coming, and he switched off his padd immediately.

She almost asked if he was alright, but thought better of it quickly. Instead she settled for, “I’m not disturbing you, am I?”

“You are,” Leonard said, giving her a lopsided smile. “But then, I wouldn’t mind being disturbed.”

Nyota gestured at the padd beside his tray. “Heavy reading material?”

“Something like that,” he muttered with a sidelong glance at the padd. “Damn fool captain acts like I have a whole room of spare livers, waiting around just in case some idiot takes a load of shrapnel in the gut.” He stabbed a piece of meatloaf with rather more force than Nyota thought was necessary.

“Rumor has it you do have a whole room of spare livers,” she said, smiling faintly. “Well, not just livers. All the other organs too.”

“Still have to code them for the recipient’s DNA and keep the idiot alive till they’re ready to transplant. And they’re not easy to reattach, mind.” He punctuated the statement with a warning glare, as if Nyota were contemplating being careless with her own liver.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she murmured. Then she swallowed. “Jim needed a new liver then?”

Leonard nodded, looking grim. “Among other things.”

Dr. McCoy had come to the bridge with the rapid response team, though she suspected that wasn’t protocol. His sharp orders and quick hands had betrayed no hint of fear; in fact, they went a long way toward reassuring the crew. Still, Nyota couldn’t imagine it was easy to see your best friend bleeding out on the floor.

“Most doctors don’t have to operate on people they care about,” she said quietly.

“You get used to it,” Leonard answered gruffly, looking down at his tray.

Impulsively, she reached out to squeeze Leonard’s hand. “He’s lucky to have you. We all are.”

That night, when she finally crawled into bed, the image that lingered in Nyota’s mind was not Jim’s broken body but the way Leonard’s face had softened as soon as he saw her walking across the room.

Nyota was still thinking about it when she woke up in the morning, but she did her best to put it out of her head. Dating another senior officer was asking for trouble - not to mention gossip. She said as much to Gaila over breakfast. Not that Gaila listened.

“You’re doing this dating thing wrong,” she said, pouring orange juice onto her cereal.

“I’m not sure if I should be more baffled by your breakfast choices, or the fact that you claim to know anything about dating at all,” Nyota said, shuddering as Gaila swirled together the juice and the milk in her cereal bowl. “When’s the last time you actually went on a date?”

“I don’t need human mating rituals,” Gaila said with a shrug. “I just sleep with people until they turn into habits. But even I know that if you like a guy, you’re supposed to see him again. Not pretend you’re not interested and leave abruptly.”

“I’m not interested, Gaila,” Nyota snapped. “I’m sure he’s a great guy. Just not for me.”

“Lying is pointless,” Gaila said, tossing her head. “I can smell your pheromones, you know.”

“He’s funny and and he has interesting past,” Nyota admitted. “But just because I feel interested doesn’t mean I have to act on it. There are four hundred and twenty-nine other people on this ship, and the vast majority of them are not senior officers.”

“Tell me you’re not worried about gossip,” Gaila said. Now she was crumbling bacon into her cereal bowl, and Nyota felt obliged to pull it away from her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Trying human breakfast foods from North America. Obviously.” Gaila pulled the cereal bowl back. “Getting up in time for breakfast is a new skill for me. I have to figure out what to eat.”

“You don’t put them all together, Gaila. This is just wrong.” Nyota swiped a container of grape jelly from Gaila’s tray before it ended up in the cereal bowl too.

Gaila shrugged. “I believe in efficiency. And you’re changing the topic. I was just about to tell you it’s stupid to worry about gossip. I mean, the crew knows you’re not on some quest to fuck the whole senior staff. Although that would be a laudable goal.” She paused, considering. “I think I could get it done in a week. But anyway, everyone knows you’d never sleep with Kirk. Not Chekov either. He’s like your little brother, and that’s wrong even on Orion. You can’t sleep with Sulu because he’s gay, and you definitely wouldn’t sleep with Carol Marcus either. That woman’s got issues. I mean, I get why, but you’d never go for anyone that high maintenance. That just leaves Scotty. Everyone can see you don’t have any chemistry with him. I have tons of chemistry with him, but that’s beside the point.”

“What is the point?” Nyota asked, scooting the grape jam further out of Gaila’s reach.

“It’s obvious to everyone that the only person on the senior staff that you would even consider dating is Dr. McCoy. And if it’s not obvious to everyone, I’ll explain it to them the same way I explained it to you.” She flashed Nyota one of her dazzling grins. “I hope you’re not doubting my ability to influence shipboard gossip.”

“Never. Your taste in food, on the other hand…”

Gaila shrugged, raising the spoon slowly to her mouth. Nyota watched with morbid fascination.

“This smells weird,” Gaila said, eying the spoon. “But seriously, it’s not like you to give a fuck what people think. So why not date the attractive, well-educated, tentacle-free biped I found you?”

Nyota sighed, allowing herself one last wistful thought of how quickly Leonard had put down his reading for her. Spock never did that; it wasn’t logical. Then she shook her head. “Look, you know how hard I worked to get this posting. I could be with Spock because I knew he’d be logical if things ended. Leonard’s a little...volatile. If things didn’t work out, my job could be miserable.”

Gaila frowned at Nyota. “How are we already on the worst case scenario after the first date?
Things don’t have to get all serious, and if they do, they don’t have to explode. Why don’t you just go out with him and have fun? Be spontaneous!” With that, she finally took a triumphant swallow of her breakfast cocktail. Her smile lasted for exactly two seconds before she gagged.

Nyota divided the rest of her bagel into thirds. She spread one segment with cream cheese, another with the grape jam, and the last one with peanut butter. Then she passed it to Gaila.

“Here you go, a non-revolting breakfast sampler. You know, sometimes it’s really nice to live with a logical, organized plan.” She gathered her tray and stood up, taking Gaila’s horrifying breakfast concoction with her.

Her crush on Leonard was annoying, but maybe she could treat it as a clue to what kind of guy she was interested in. Well-educated, interesting background, willing to occasionally put down a book when she walked into a room -- it couldn’t be that hard to find. To prove it to herself, she asked out Lieutenant Nguyen from the astrophysics lab when she saw him at lunch.

Two days later, Nyota found herself lingering in front of the digital bulletin board in the rec room after her morning run. FUNDAMENTALS OF COMBAT CASUALTY CARE was still on the lower left corner, displayed in glowing red letters. She’d walked past it every day for two weeks. Now only one space was left.

What are you waiting for, Nyota? She knew she should take the class. The extra skills would look good when she applied for promotion, and if she wanted to move to command track someday, they would be required. Still, she hesitated with her stylus poised over the signup form. Doing this would mean taking responsibility for another sentient being’s life. What if she froze? What if she failed?

No, she couldn’t afford to think that way anymore. Jim had almost died on the bridge, and all she could do was call the rapid response team. He’d been surrounded by people who could help, but what if they’d been alone? She wouldn’t allow herself to be that helpless again. She wrote her name in the last blank spot on the list.

Suddenly a warm hand squeezed her shoulder.

“Good choice,” Leonard said.

Nyota spun around. “How long have you been watching me?” she snapped.

Leonard shrugged, clearly unfazed by her glare. “Long enough. I was going to write your name down if didn’t, but I figured you’d make the right decision in the end. Out of curiosity, what was holding you back?”

Nyota shook her head. “Just trying to decide if I had time in my schedule.” No way was she admitting her fears to Leonard - and she certainly wasn’t going to tell him how appealing she found the prospect of seeing him every night for two weeks. She shouldered her gym bag and strode out the door before he had a chance to ask any more questions.

Zach Nguyen was a very nice man. He pulled out Nyota’s chair, even though she didn’t need him to. He kept her water glass filled, even though she didn’t need him to do that either. He was appropriately dazzled by her little black dress and listened to her stories with wide eyes -- but he had no stories of his own. Absolutely none. Somehow he was the one person on the Enterprise who’d never inhaled sex pollen on an away mission, never gotten his shirt torn open by a hostile alien, never been kidnapped by a sentient rock or a mildly evil non-corporeal entity.

“It was the most boring date I’ve ever been on,” she admitted to Gaila over breakfast.

Gaila had spread cream cheese over her bagel, and now she was crumbling bacon on top of it. Weird but probably not vomit-inducing, Nyota decided. No need for intervention. Yet.

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” she asked finally when Gaila didn’t even look up.

Gaila just rolled her eyes. “Your taste in men is trash.”

“Says the woman who got possessed by a non-corporeal entity on the last away mission!” Nyota snapped.

“And I learned a valuable lesson about mind sex,” Gaila said, nodding soberly. “But now I know! And I don’t need to learn the same lesson twice,” she added, shooting Nyota a meaningful look.

Nyota sighed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, we went through all this in the academy. The average smart guy doesn’t cut it for you. You’re smart and a little rebellious and perfectionist and a closeted adrenaline junkie.” Nyota opened her mouth to argue but Gaila cut her off with a quick shake of her head. “Don’t make me get out the evidence folder again. Ninety-five percent of all available men bore you. And men your age are way too immature. Don’t forget that one.”

“So glad you’re here to remind me how impossible dating is,” Nyota muttered.

Gaila leaned back in her seat, looking triumphant. “Not impossible at all. Have fun in your med class with Dr. McCoy.”

Out of spite, Nyota let her pour maple syrup all over her bagel.

Nyota failed her first combat medical class. It was nothing like the classes she’d taken before. They watched a how-to holo about stopping hemorrhages, and five minutes later, they were in the holosuite with a very real-looking patient and a tourniquet.

What had seemed simple in the holo proved impossible in reality. The wounds were far more graphic than anything she’d ever seen. Her patient’s screams made her hands shake, and he only screamed louder when she touched the wound. The first time, he bled out before she got the tourniquet on, so she started the second simulation rattled and failed that one too. By the end of the third simulation, she finally applied the tournament successfully, but not before her patient went into hypovolemic shock. A computer readout informed her that he died en route to sickbay.

The simulator shut down after that, and Nyota sat dumbly on the floor, watching the holographic blood disappear from her hands while the rest of her classmates filed out. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d failed at anything. And this of all things? An easy procedure when a life was on the line?

Suddenly a warm hand appeared on her shoulder. “Panic is a normal reaction to the sight of blood,” Leonard said soothingly, and Nyota shrugged off his grip. She wasn’t in the mood for platitudes.

“Did it happen to you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

He shrugged. “Wasn’t really an option. We took care of my dad at home after…” He shook his head. “You need a drink.”

“This is a dry ship,” Nyota murmured automatically. By regulation, all Starfleet vessels were devoid of intoxicants.

“Dry ship my ass,” Leonard said. “Pick your poison, it’s probably in my quarters.”

Nyota knew what she ought to do. Go back to her own quarters, change clothes, break down her failure and figure out what to do differently next time. But she wasn’t on duty tomorrow, and Gaila had a point about Rule 69. A little spontaneity was good sometimes.

“Leonard, I have a confession,” she said. Their knuckles brushed against each other as they walked out of sickbay and she didn’t bother moving away.

He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

She smiled. “I’ll drink just about anything.”

“My kind of woman,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. The contact didn’t last long, but it felt good.

Back in his quarters, Leonard poured them each two fingers of bourbon. Nyota had been planning to forget the evening, but as soon as she’d had a couple sips, he asked, “You ever seen that much blood before?”

Nyota shook her head. “The blood wasn’t really the problem.”

Leonard looked at her skeptically, and she sighed. “Alright, it didn’t really help. When I was fifteen, I was babysitting and my little sister almost cut her finger off. I passed out, and the next door neighbor took her to the ER.”

“And they stuck her hand under a regenerator, and everything was alright,” Leonard said, smiling faintly.

Nyota nodded. “But I never forgot how stupid I felt. My parents had just gotten divorced, and I had one job - keep my sisters safe till my mom got off work. And I couldn’t do it.”

“And you felt that same way tonight,” Leonard finished.

Nyota took another sip of bourbon. “It was the screaming that got to me. I mean, I know it was just a hologram. But it was so real. I never thought about how you’d have to hurt someone to help them.”

“You’re not the first person to struggle with that, you know. You have to care enough to do a good job, but if you care too much you can’t do your job at all. It’s a hard line to walk, but you’ll get there,” he said, refilling Nyota’s nearly empty glass.

“How did you learn?” she asked.

Leonard cleared his throat, and for a moment, Nyota thought she wouldn’t answer. Then he said, “From my dad. Or practicing on my dad. We took care of him at home. It was part of the package.”

“Oh.” Nyota exhaled softly. The revelation caught her off guard. She had a feeling Leonard didn’t talk about that part of his life much, and now he was, just to make her feel better about flunking a simulation.

He shook his head and drained his glass. “He was a doctor, and a hardass to boot. I always did what he said, even when he was in bed.”

Nyota smiled. “Except when you ran away and became a miner.”

Leonard offered her a familiar sardonic grin. “Last ditch attempt to get out of the family business after my pro basketball dreams didn’t work out.”

Nyota couldn’t suppress her laughter. “You wanted to be a professional basketball player?”

“Doesn’t even thirteen-year-old boy?” Leonard asked with a shrug.

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t know. I only had sisters. Four of them, to be exact.”

“And you were the oldest.” It wasn’t a question.

“That obvious?” she asked with a sigh.

“That you’re a control freak? Yes.” He gave her a look that dared her to argue, and Nyota couldn’t help but laugh.

“Guilty as charged,” she said, tossing back the rest of her drink. “I had to be. My parents didn’t just get divorced. My dad left. I was fifteen, but my youngest sister was only five. Of course we could get food aid and rent subsidies, but my mom still had to work all the time.”

Leonard nodded. “So you became the second parent.”

Now it was Nyota’s turn to nod. She didn’t talk about this part of her life often, but Leonard had shared with her. It only seemed fair. And anyway, even if she didn’t intend to act of her crush, she wanted Leonard to know her. He would make a good friend.

Nyota slipped out of Leonard’s quarters at 0500 hours. Nothing had happened, except that she’d fallen asleep with her feet in his lap -- which, she had to admit, wasn’t precisely nothing, but she thought it fell well short of the something mark. She could still feel his thumb tracing lazy circles across her ankle, but that was beside the point. The point was, she needed to make it down the corridor to her quarters before someone saw her and thought something happened.

So of course Hikaru Sulu stepped out of the turbolift while she was standing right outside Leonard’s door. He took one look at her smudged eyeliner and rumpled uniform and winked. Heat flushed across her face, but she walked serenely back to her quarters, shooting him a
glare that clearly said None of your business.

It could have been worse, she told herself in the safety of her room. It could have been Jim.

Hikaru didn’t gossip, but he was stealthy and determined, so Nyota knew she was fucked the second they were assigned to spend a day together in a shuttle, fine tuning Starfleet’s new subspace relay buoys. She had downloaded the tourniquet training sim to the shuttle’s holoprojector, but Hikaru slapped the pause button just as she was starting to get the hang of it.

“Alright. Enough with the screaming hologram.” He looked down at the gaping leg wound. “Eurgh. What are you even doing?”

Nyota shrugged. “I signed up for an advanced combat first aid class.” She decided against mentioning her failure two days ago.

“Let the record show, when that happened to me, I didn’t scream like that,” he said, looking down at the frozen hologram.

Nyota switched off the display. Hikaru was right - the noise was a lot for a small shuttle.

“When did that happen to you?” she asked.

“The giant spiders? On Thalos IV? Remember?” He made a pincer motion with this hands.
“They just tore up the captain’s shirt, but they tried to eat my whole leg..”

“You know I really had forgotten that?” Nyota said. Three years into a five year mission, and apparently giant spiders trying to eat your coworkers weren’t a big deal anymore.

Hikaru shrugged and tapped his leg. “Yeah, well, good as new. And the sex pollen thing happened right after, so…”

Nyota shuddered. “Maybe if the Klingons hadn’t been there too....”

“The whole thing was very awkward,” Hikaru agreed. His face lit up. “Hey, speaking of awkward segways, you and Dr. McCoy? It sounds weird at first, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense.”

“We’re friends,” Nyota said firmly.

Hikaru shot her a disbelieving look. “The kind of friends who slink out of each other’s quarters at
0500?”

“We were talking, and I fell asleep.”

“You talked about the communications array until you bored yourself to sleep? That is truly impressive.”

Nyota sniffed. “I was doing no such thing.” She’d learned a long time ago that Scotty was the only one who wanted to hear about her subspace relays. “We were talking about our families, if you really want to know.”

Hikaru smiled, and Nyota realized she’d walked into a trap. “So what you’re saying is that it’s not casual. You’re getting to know each other.” At Nyota’s look, he spread out his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Hey, what is freaking you out about this so much?”

She sighed. “Nothing, except that my friends are determined to make this something it’s not.”

“You know wanting to be in a relationship isn’t a sign of weakness, right?” he asked. His gold wedding band glinted against the navigation array.

Nyota knew no such thing, but their first subspace buoy was approaching on the horizon. She tapped her finger on the readout. “Time to get to work.”

Later that night, Nyota carried a stack of padds to the quietest corner of the rec room. One held the transfer application for command track, a second was loaded with information about xenolinguistics PhD programs, and the third held study materials for the lieutenant commander’s exam. She planned to do all three some day; the trick was deciding which came first.

Frowning, she pushed the command track application to the side. Wearing a gold tunic wouldn’t require her to give up her communications post, but taking more responsibility for the day-to-day operation of the ship would make it much harder to finish her education. That narrowed her options to two: applying to a PhD program or taking the lieutenant commander’s exam.

She leaned over and pulled a fourth padd out of her bag to start a pro and con list. Of course, a fully informed decision was impossible without reading more about each PhD program. Some focused on pure linguistics, while others delved into communications technology, and others still included elements of xenopsychology.

She didn’t look up until a shadow fell across her table.

“Good god woman, you know each of those things holds five exabytes of data?” Leonard asked, gesturing at her collection of padds. “And you have four of them?”

“I like being able to see everything at once. Out of curiosity, do you actually believe in god, or do you just like swearing on her name?” Nyota asked, rotating her shoulders to get the crick out of her neck.

Leonard snorted. “It’s too damn late for questions like that.”

“Is it?” Nyota asked absently. She’d been so absorbed in her work that she hadn’t noticed the shift change, but sure enough, the chronometer on the wall read 00:58.

Leonard gave her an eyeroll for that. “I’m up because some idiot engineer tried to build a lightsaber and lost his damn hand. What are you doing up at this hour?”

Nyota glanced ruefully at the padds. “Trying to pick a PhD program.” Hours of reading, and she was still no closer to a decision. There was so much knowledge in the universe - how was she supposed to decide between it all?

“And applying for promotion at the same time?” Leonard asked, gesturing at one of her padds.

“Deciding which to do first. If I get the promotion, I won’t have as much time for schoolwork, but…” She trailed off and shook her head. “It’s late. I don’t want to keep you.”

“Not a problem,” he said quickly, and Nyota’s stomach flipped.

Just a friend, she reminded herself fiercely. A really good friend who wanted to listen to her academic dilemmas in the middle of the night. That wasn’t something she should consider disrupting for the sake of a romance that might not work out.

Leonard didn’t wait to hear the rest of her explanation. “Are you seriously considering waiting to finish a whole doctoral program to apply for promotion? You can write a dissertation faster than most sentient beings, but that’s still, what? Four years? Five?”

Nyota shrugged. “And if I were a lieutenant commander, where would I find time in my schedule to write a dissertation?”

“You’d find it,” Leonard said with such confidence that warmth flushed across her face. She and Spock had broken up for good reasons, and she didn’t regret it, but she’d missed having this kind of support. It was nice to know she could have it in a friendship too.

She reached out to put her padds away and winced. Leonard peered at her with concern, and she waved him away. “It’s nothing. My shoulder’s a little sore, that’s all.”

“Too much climbing around on those relay buoys?” he asked.

“You knew my duty assignment today?” For the second time that evening, her stomach flipped. Surely Leonard wasn’t interested; they’d both agreed on that during their “date.” But if he’d bothered to check the duty rosters for her name…

“Came up at the staff meeting,” he said gruffly.

There was an awkward pause, and then Leonard waved a hand toward Nyota’s shoulder. “I can take care of that,” he said. “If you’d like.”

The offer surprised her, but why should it? Probably Leonard had a hypo of muscle relaxant in his pocket. She smiled. “Sure, have at it.”

She didn’t process what was happening until he was behind her, sliding her ponytail out of the way. His calloused fingers skimmed over her flesh, pausing at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She shivered under his touch and hoped he didn’t notice.

“This the spot?” he asked, his voice softer than she’d heard it before.

She nodded, not quite trusting her voice, and he began pressing his thumb in slow circles up and down her neck. Goosebumps spread across her arms, and she bit back an involuntary groan.

“That helping?” he asked, and Nyota didn’t miss the teasing note in his voice.

Heat blossomed across her cheeks. She hated being caught off balance like this, and hated even more that Leonard had noticed.

“Just a little bit,” she admitted, trying not to calculate how long it had been since anyone had touched her this way.

“Well, then I’ll have to try harder,” Leonard murmured, and his fingers slid across the other side of her neck, working in time with his thumb.

Warmth spread outward from where he’d touched her, pooling at the base of her spine. Nyota gritted her teeth, trying not to think about his hands dropping lower, sliding down her chest… It would have been easier if it were only a sex thing. But no, here he was, giving her a massage after providing reasonable academic advice. That was the real turn-on.

Leonard’s thumb dipped below the collar of her uniform, and this time she didn’t -- couldn’t -- suppress her gasp.

Then his communicator chimed. “Dr. McCoy, report to sickbay. Dr. McCoy, report to sickbay.”

With a brusque nod in her direction, he was gone.

The next day started with a routine survey mission and ended with a cave-in, so Nyota got to fill in another square on her Starfleet disaster bingo card.

The caves of Dicron VII were full of crystals that inhibited subspace transmissions, and Starfleet wanted a report. She was scheduled to beam down at 0700, so she’d slapped on some undereye concealer and grabbed a tumbler of coffee on her way out the door. Last night with Leonard had left her more confused than ever, and a morning of scientific research was just what she needed.
Well, that and thirty minutes alone to set up the survey equipment while the coffee kicked in. Not that she was going to get it. On the other side of the cave, Jim was practically bouncing off the walls, seemingly no worse for the wear after the shrapnel and the new liver. Chekov knelt on the ground beside her, radiating enthusiasm from every pore. Nyota managed not to wince.

“I believe a hemihedral twinning problem is inhibiting the scanners. I can adjust them to compensate,” he announced. He leapt to his feet and bounded across the cave, curls bouncing emphatically with every step. Nyota closed her eyes and sipped her coffee in blissful silence, but Leonard drifted over before she could really relax.

“Who the hell is that enthusiastic this early in the morning?” he asked, glowering at both Captain Kirk and Ensign Chekov.

“You don’t have to be here, you know,” she muttered. She regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth; last night’s conversation had left her feeling off-balance, but that was no excuse to be rude.

But Leonard looked unperturbed by her sharp tone. What was it he’d said that first night they’d gone out? Eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man, if the words don’t get me first. He hadn’t seemed worried about her prickliness then either.

“Course I have to be here,” he said without missing a beat. “One of you damn fools is going to cut off your hand or have an allergic reaction or --” The cave shuddered, and Chekov murmured sorry, sorry as he fiddled with the portable sensor array. “Collapse the whole goddamned cave,” Leonard finished grimly.

“Glad to see you’re your usual sunny self,” Nyota said, but she offered him a sip of her coffee to take the bite out of her words.

“Always,” Leonard replied with a one-sided grin.

She leaned in closer. “Admit it. You’re hoping for a cave-in. You’re an adrenaline junkie just like the rest of us.”

“Dammit, woman, don’t curse us all,” Leonard said, shooting her a menacing look that she had to admit was strangely attractive. “If this cave collapses, it’s your fault.”

“Oh no, definitely yours. And you still have my coffee cup.” Nyota reached for it, and his thumb brushed across her fingers, lingering just a second too long, and warmth raced down her wrist.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, and heat flooded across her cheeks. Instead of ducking her head to hide her reaction, she leaned in closer. Their hips brushed together. “You’re not here for a cave-in. You’re here to see me,” she said, pitching her voice low.
“Supposing I were, would you do anything about it?” Leonard was leaning in even closer now, almost close enough to kiss. Nyota’s traitorous heart skipped a beat.

Then earth heaved beneath them. A terrible grinding noise rang through the cave. Nyota flung herself on top of Leonard just as the ceiling of the cave shuddered and collapsed, engulfing them in blackness.

When Nyota came to, she was lying on top of Leonard. She blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to clear away the dust, but it didn’t matter; the darkness was total. Every inch of her body ached and throbbed, and when she picked up her hand, it was sticky with blood. Her heart raced -- how badly was she hurt? -- and she steadied herself with a long breath. Easy, Nyota, you’ve handled worse, she reminded herself sternly.

“Leonard?” she called, running her hands carefully down her side. There was no answer. She coughed and tried again, louder this time. “Leonard?”

She waited a beat. Still no answer. She pressed her ear against his chest and slumped with relief when she hard his heart beating, then tensed a second later when she realized how fast it was. His chest rose and fell beneath her bloodied hand far too quickly. Rapid heartbeat, fast and shallow breaths meant what? Her mind was sluggish, but she dragged up a mental picture of her flashcards: hypovolemic shock. When the human body lost more than one fifth of its blood supply. The blood on her hands wasn’t hers; it was Leonard’s.

Think, Nyota. She needed to find the injury and place a tourniquet as fast as she could. She felt her way down Leonard’s arm, hardly daring to hope she’d find his medkit still clutched in his hand -- but there it was, cradled against his body. The lid was half-crushed by falling rocks, but she managed to wrench it open. Precious minutes ticked by as her fingers danced over the
unfamiliar instruments before she found the flashlight.

Blinking against the sudden brightness, she trained the beam slowly down Leonard’s body. Blood oozed from a gash on his right thigh. A sharp stone lay on the ground nearby. Reaching for the tourniquet was automatic. She slipped it over his leg and tightened it without a second thought. When the bleeding had slowed, she reached administered the rehydration hypo just like he’d taught her.

And then came the hard part: waiting.

Leonard hadn’t warned her that helplessness was part of medical care. That you could do everything right and still have to face an unconscious victim and a smashed communicator and there would be nothing left to do but hope.

With shaky fingers, she tried to unfold the mylar emergency blanket, but it had been hopelessly shredded when the rockfall punctured the medkit. With nothing else to do, she draped herself carefully over Leonard’s body, trying to keep him warm without hurting him worse.

“Dammit, wake up, man,” she hissed, trying to adopt the doctor’s usual gruff tone. It didn’t work. Absently, she smoothed the wrinkles on his uniform tunic, as if that would do anything to help. “Look, I really need you to wake up,” she said, sticking to her usual brisk tone this time. “I had absolutely no intention of liking you -- and believe me, I definitely didn’t want to admit Gaila was right. But you’re funny and smart and attractive in a scruffy sort of way that I don’t usually find appealing…” Her voice trailed off. “Anyway, if you could not die in here, I’d really appreciate it.”

She looked up at Leonard’s face hopefully, which was stupid. This wasn’t a fairy tale or a holovid. He wasn’t going to wake up just because she’d made some big romantic declaration. But a second later, his eyelids fluttered.

“Leonard?” she called out softly.

His eyes opened and swept across the fallen rocks littered all around them. His brow furrowed. “Nyota? Are you alright?”

He was already trying to rise, his fingers reaching toward his medkit. Nyota pushed him down as gently as she could manage.

“You’re the one who’s hurt,” she murmured. “And the first thing you ask is whether I’m okay?”

“Just doing my job,” he muttered gruffly. Somehow he managed to glare. “Dammit, Nyota, are you alright?”

Nyota managed a little laugh. “Everything hurts, but nothing’s bleeding - on me anyway. Now let someone else take care of you for once."

Then, because she could think of nothing else she wanted to do, she kissed him. When Chekov beamed them aboard thirty seconds later, her lips were still pressed against his, and Captain Kirk was wolf whistling from somewhere behind the transporter platform.

Nyota rose with as much dignity as she could muster, ready to help Leonard down, but the med team was already pushing her out of the way. Cheeks flaming, she walked out of the room with her back straight, neatly dodging Jim’s friendly clap on the back.

Nyota balled her hands into fists as she rang Leonard’s door chime. She’d taken advantage of him when he was injured, and she owed him an apology, no matter how uncomfortable it made her.

Leonard answered the door in a pair of sweatpants and his uniform undershirt, which was tight and black and not at all what she ought to be thinking about right now.

“You’re alright.” She let the flood of relief wash through her. His hair was mussed and his skin was pale, but he was obviously okay.

“I understand I have you to thank for that,” he said, stepping aside so she could come in.

Nyota shook her head. “I didn’t do anything. The thanks goes to Nurse Chapel and Dr. Mbenga, I’m sure.”

Leonard narrowed his eyes. “Did you or did you not throw yourself on top of me?”

“Saving the doctor is protocol,” Nyota said, tugging at her uniform collar. “Anyway, you’re the one who got the gaping leg wound.”

“And you’re the one who treated it,” Leonard shot back.

“After you taught me.”

“Only because it was fun to see you be terrible at something for once.”

Her mind swung between exasperation and amusement. How did he always do this to her?

Before she could open her mouth to respond, he sauntered toward a cabinet. “Drink?” he asked, holding out a bottle.

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure you’re not supposed to be doing that right now,” she said. She took a breath. “And anyway, it’s not what I’m here for. Leonard, I owe you an apology.”

He poured drinks for both of them anyway. “I’m still the doctor, last time I checked. Now what the hell are you apologizing for?” he asked, holding out a glass for her.

“For kissing you when you half-delirious and completely immobile. It was unprofessional, and more importantly --”

Leonard cut her off with an impatient wave of his hand, and she finally accepted the outstretched glass. If he wanted to give her a drink, the least she could do was take it.

“Did I seem like a less than enthusiastic participant?” he asked. He was standing close to her now, and even though he looked pale and just a bit ragged, his body felt very, very warm.

“No.” Nyota swallowed. As close as Leonard was, if she just tilted her head…

But he stepped back at the last minute and flopped down on the sofa. “Alright, I don’t want an apology, but I’d like an explanation. Last I checked, you made it pretty clear you weren’t up for this, so if you could put that kiss somewhere between a casual hookup and --”

“There was nothing casual about it,” Nyota said quickly.

“Good. Me either.” His eyes softened when he looked up at her. “I think you knew I wasn’t looking for a casual fling a long time ago. So what was holding you back?”

“Your complete refusal to let me take the easy way out is both maddening and attractive, I’ll have you know,” she said. She settled onto the couch next to him, angling her body so that their knees rested against each other. It was nice to let herself enjoy his touch, and she smiled a little. “If you really must know, I hated to admit that Gaila was right. But you’re just as funny and smart as she said you would be. And you’re kind. And a good listener. It’s a little disgusting, actually,” she said. Even now, she was trying not to let too much emotion show on her face.

Leonard was still looking at her expectantly, and she swallowed. It shouldn’t be so hard to talk about her feelings, but it was. “And I was scared,” she said, forcing herself to look him in the eye. “It’s not easy, being with someone new after…”

“Don’t I know it,” he murmured after her voice trailed off, and Nyota felt some of the tension slide out of her shoulders. This wasn’t easy for him either.

She took a breath. “The truth is, fear would be a terrible reason to let this pass me by, and I kissed you in the cave because I knew I would regret if I never acted on my feelings for you.”

“Well then, you’d better do it again.” Leonard’s voice was rough, and his hand felt very warm where it was resting against her knee.

Nyota heard her own breathing growing ragged as she leaned in closer. His lips parted beneath hers, and his hand slid slowly up her spine until he was cupping the back of her head in his large palm. It felt exactly how she’d hoped it would: warm and safe, holding her close without holding her down.