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She was sleeping soundly, but he couldn’t sleep. He knew the mission to the past was going to be over soon, and then it would be time to leave her and he didn’t want to do that. He knew Jim and Spock wanted to go home but him? He was happy here, even with the ancient medicine and outdated practices at St. Bart’s. But it was mostly her, the woman asleep next to him, that made him want to stay.
He had never expected to find love again, but he’d found it with Margaret Anne Hooper and he didn’t want to let it go.
She knew the truth. He couldn’t keep it from her friend Sherlock but it seemed that he had taken it in stride. Molly had been almost the same, though she hadn’t swallowed the part where he would have to go home again as well as Sherlock had. And now he didn’t want to go home. But could he stay?
He kissed her shoulder softly and moved to get up, but she reached over and pulled him back to the place he loved best, curled up next to her, her soft bare skin touching his. “Stay,” she murmured, on the verge of waking up, and he settled back in, wrapping an arm around her and burying his nose in her hair, pressing a kiss there.
He’d stay, in this era, in this place. She wanted him to, and he wanted to, so no matter what, he’d stay.