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She’s waving at him all the way across the Mess, enthusiastic and unrepentant as usual as she pushes through the crowd to reach him.
Her tray moves precariously as she strides to the table and by some miracle manages to stay on top on the only hand she’s using to keep it balanced. It seems effortless, like she’s not even trying or cares much about what happens to it, but Bones knows better.
He looks intently, looks hard and deep, and there’s an edge of calculation in Jamie’s steps, in the tilt of her raised arm, even in the angle she’s holding her neck and he’s not imagining it and he doesn’t know where the experience comes from and he’s curious and worried about its origin, but he won’t push. He never does when he knows Jamie will recoil and possibly sock him too while she’s at it.
There are many things he doesn’t know about Jamie Kirk. All of those, he wishes he did, but he can be a patient man when he must and he tells himself he has to now. If he waits enough, she’ll come around.
Maybe she’ll even stay, if he’s close enough to touch and to hold on to, but not enough to choke and confine her.
She finally arrives to his table, sitting across from him with a huff that’s half a laugh. “Hi there, handsome,” she says, loud and bouncy, and damn it, Bones has told her a million times not to do that but she keeps thinking it’s funny to make all the Campus think they’re more than friends.
He rolls his eyes and his huff is one hundred percent annoyance. “Jamie,” okay, maybe eighty percent—sixty. The rest is warmth that blooms and expands when Jamie toys with the necklace he gave her last year as she shares a small but bright smile with him.
Bones wishes he didn’t notice how much bluer her eyes shine when she’s happy—happy to see him—but he’s screwed, he’s been for over two years now, so he notices and he curses inwardly but it does nothing to placate the matching flutter of joy inside of him. It never does.
She starts stuffing her face exactly three seconds after that and Bones shakes his head, exasperated but amused in spite of himself, and goes back to his own lunch.
***
They’re on a tight schedule, they always are, but they always find time to spend with each other so all things considered, Bones can’t blame the rumor mill and he can’t really blame Jamie either. They’re both feeding it quite consistently and even in the rare occasions someone comes and questions him straight in the face about it, he does nothing to discourage the inaccuracy of the gossip. He bristles and threatens and whoever was the sorry ass who asked him in the first place can’t run fast enough from him.
And sure, he likes thinking he reacts that way because it’s his job as a friend to defend Jamie’s honor and he won’t have his best friend called a slut without at least doing some psychological damage in return, but that’s not it. That’s only part of it, the only safe side of it.
It has squat to do with the fact he has quite the reputation with the women in Campus despite he’s slept with none, thanks to Jamie and her own among men and women and aliens alike. At least once a day, someone will come to bat her eyelashes and flash a bit of short skirt in his direction, no matter how many times he’s said he’s not looking for anything at the moment, not even casual hook-ups. He never grew fond of those, not even when he was young and he feels too ancient for them now, besides being absolutely uninterested in them.
He says as much to Jamie, at least once a week, and she laughs at him every time and doesn’t relent in her efforts to act like they’re something they’re not. It’s a running joke for her and sadly, Bones finds a generous amount of pleasure in knowing Jamie enjoys the imaginary idea of them together because yes, he’s that pathetic and he’s that screwed in the head, so he’s not about to chide her for real to make her stop. He knows she would if he did.
It doesn’t seem to matter they’ve never as much as kissed or held hands in public. Apparently, they do enough in private to justify the lack of actual proof of a romantic relationship, according to every single living soul in the Academy, including everyone who doesn’t know them more than by name.
“What’s a bit of lady love thrown your way, Bones? I’m sure your ego likes it well enough,” she says this time and it’s different. It’s not the usual suck it up, Bones or the you’re welcome, Bones. It’s honest and sudden and something lurks in her eyes, threatening to break the grin on her face, it’s enough to make the corners of her lips tighten with the effort of keeping it in place, “Besides, it’s not like it’s actually a lie. You’re a skilled lover, you can’t be anything else.”
Bones blushes so much he’s willing to bet he’s purple instead of red and he can’t even draw a breath, but he has to ask. “What—Why would you think that?”
His croak relaxes her somehow, but there’s still something off in her face, in her, and it’s practically a beacon for Bones but he doesn’t mention it, doesn’t dare to, especially when it morphs into a sad smile and Jamie lowers her gaze for a moment, licks her lips, and answers, voice soft but steady, not an ounce of doubt about what she’s stating, not in her words and not in the eyes she locks with his, “Because you’re you, Bones. Sure, you’re cranky and sarcastic and you can have the shortest fuse ever for some stuff but you’re also gentle and attentive and you take your time when it matters. I’m sure you’re all those things in bed and more, and that’s all a girl can ask for. You can’t blame them for trying to have that.”
She doesn’t say I’d try too, if I could but Bones hears it all the same. He swallows, throat suddenly made of sandpaper and whacks his brain for something to distract them from it, but comes empty-handed.
It lingers heavy between them and Jamie flushes deep as soon as she realizes, muttering something he doesn’t catch before leaving him alone in his room, not even bothering to gather her PADDs before dashing through the door.
He stays there for a while, gathers their stuff and puts it on his desk. He’s actually gathering and ordering—or trying to—his thoughts in the process and he knows he has to be fast, he has to catch Jamie before she closes off and dismisses what she just did out of fear of him leaving her because he’s not interested in her in that way. She’s convinced of it, he knows that now, and he’s never felt more like an idiot in his entire life.
He thought giving her the necklace would do the trick, would deliver the message he couldn’t put into words. I’m here and I won’t go anywhere, let’s take it slow. I can’t do anything else right now, but I will. Trust me.
But Jamie didn’t get it. With any luck, she only got that he was sorry and wanted to fix things between them after he hurt her by taking his wedding ring from her neck, that he’d finally understood what it meant to her to have it and was willing to replace it with something else, something only theirs.
He doesn’t think they’re ready, not yet, and he’s still sure Jamie needs a friend more than she needs a boyfriend but maybe he can be both. He has to, otherwise he’ll lose her and he won’t allow that.
He loses the rest of the afternoon chasing her and he’s always a minute late. “She was just here,” someone informs him each time, “She went that way, you just need to hurry.”
He walks, he strolls, he jogs and he runs, but it’s all for nothing. She isn’t anywhere and when he finally goes to the parking lot, his chest constricts painfully and he curses at the empty space because her bike isn’t there and that means she can be anywhere in the city and that he’s lost her.
He refuses to give that sentence all the meanings it could have and so he keeps looking, but this time he doesn’t check places. He checks people.
Gaila’s roommate opens the door when he chimes and if she’s surprised to see him, or knows him at all, she doesn’t show it. “Can I help you?”
“Have you seen Cadet Kirk?” he asks and she doesn’t answer, but beckons the Orion to the door.
“Hello, gorgeous,” Gaila greets him, giving him a blatant once-over that he answers with a raised eyebrow, “You must be McCoy. I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but if you’re here it means you did something, so I won’t. What did you do? Where’s Jamie?”
The way she goes from playful to angry astonishes him and he’s still reeling when she goes in for her jacket and joins him in the hall. “I don’t know where she is,” he admits at length as they’re walking to exit the building, “I was hoping you did. She took her bike and I can’t spend the whole night searching for her. I need to find her now.”
“Why? Is she not worth it?” she asks flippantly. Still, he catches the warning in it, knows he said something wrong.
He bites back the acerbic remark that’s in the tip of his tongue and explains, “It’ll be too late if I don’t. Please, if you have any idea where she is, tell me.”
Gaila assesses him for a moment and Bones doesn’t squirm, but doesn’t try to hide how guilty he feels –he is—either. “I have a couple,” she says and the way she’s chewing at her bottom lip can’t be a good sign, “She took her bike to the shop, though, so she has to be here. If she’s not with me, and you’ve looked for her everywhere, that leaves Pike and—“ she pauses, looks at him like she’s really sorry for something he doesn’t get yet, “Gary.”
“Mitchell?” he growls, disbelieving. All he knows about the guy is that he’s in Jamie’s allowed-for-repeats list and that he’s the only man in it so he resents him on principle. “Why on Earth would she be with him? Why isn’t she with you?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me what you did so I can try to figure it out? Either that or shut up and follow me.”
He does the later, Jamie’s soft that’s all a girl can ask for ringing loud in his ears. Maybe Mitchell is that kind of lover, maybe that’s why Jamie welcomes him every time he looks for her, and maybe that’s why she went to him now.
By the time they arrive to Mitchell’s dorm, he’s furious. He’s more furious with himself than with him but that doesn’t stop him from pushing him and going into the room without invitation. He checks the beds, checks under them, checks every corner, checks the closets and the bathroom and it’s only when he runs out of places to look that he turns around and confronts Mitchell.
“Where is she?” he demands.
Mitchell grunts, looks at Gaila and crosses his arms, fists wound tight around his biceps as if to stop himself from hitting him. Bones should be grateful for his restraint, because at the moment that’s more than what he has and he’s got no time to waste beating the jerk bloody.
And he is, mostly. But he’s still mostly mad with jealousy, so he’d gladly welcome the excuse to swing a few punches at him.
“Well, she’s obviously not here,” Mitchell replies, cutting, “And before you ask, no, I haven’t seen her today. What did you do, huh? You afraid I might get lucky for it?”
“Guys, please,” Gaila gets between them, “Gary, can you call her? We really need to find her. Please?”
“Why can’t you do it?” Mitchell frowns. Gaila looks at Bones and he guesses the rest of the silent communication between them has something to do with the fact he went to Gaila and Jamie would know he did, “Right. I’ll do it,” he flicks his comm. unit open and sits on what Bones assumes is his bed, “Cadet Mitchell to Cadet Kirk.”
“Gary?” Jamie’s voice comes through immediately and Bones doesn’t let the pang get to him. He doesn’t have any right to feel like the victim.
“Hi, Jamie! What’s up? I was wondering if we could hang out tonight, maybe go for a drink, then come back to my place. My roomie has the Tellarite flu, so he’s not here.”
Bones has to hand it to the guy, he knows how to act. “I’m—I’m not feeling very well, Gary, mind if I take a rain check on that? I’m already in bed and all I want is to get some sleep tonight. I’m sorry.”
Mitchell looks daggers at him, but his voice gives away nothing. “Are you in your dorm? Do you want me to come over? I could bring a movie and we can cuddle it out.”
“Yeah, I am. I just came back and I’m tired. You don’t have to come. I’ll be fine, Gary. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Maybe I’ll feel well enough to take you up on your first offer.”
“You could wear the gift I bought for you if you do.” Possessiveness burns hot in his belly, but Bones squashes it. Again, he has no right to feel that way.
“Maybe I will. Good night, Gary.”
“Good night, Jamie. Mitchell out,” as he ends the call, Mitchell raises an eyebrow at him and looks about to lecture him. He might be his Senior according to Academy years, but Bones is still older and he sure as hell won’t let a fucking kid tell him how he should handle things with Jamie. All that comes through Mitchell’s mouth is a derisive laugh, though, and then more mocking. “Are you seriously telling me you didn’t check her dorm, McCoy? And you came here to see me? That’s very smart.”
“She wasn’t there when I went, didn’t you hear her? She was out,” he’s ready to storm out of the room, but he’s not that much of an asshole, and so he makes himself say, “Thank you for your help.”
Mitchell snorts and kisses Gaila’s cheek as he walks them to the door. “Don’t thank me. I didn’t do it for you.”
“Fix it for her, okay?” Gaila says, squeezing his arm briefly before going away in the opposite direction he’s heading.
He gets there in record time and Jamie leads him in, blinking back both sleepiness and amazement at seeing him. She hushes him with a gesture and Bones glances at her roomie, sleeping open-mouthed on her bed.
They sit on Jamie’s bed and Bones grips his arms with bruising force, because he’s going to ruin everything if he says the wrong things and right now he’s feeling about ninety percent of stuff he shouldn’t be feeling.
Most of them reduce to the flannel shirt Jamie is wearing. It looks worn-out and huge on her, reaching the middle of her thighs and hanging loose on her sides, sleeves rolled up for her hands to come out of them, and it’s plain it has a deeper meaning than just serving as comfy pajamas and it hits him so hard he can barely get air through his nose because he thought he was special to her, he thought she only needed him and a reminder of him against her skin for when he wasn’t around, but he was wrong.
There’s someone else or, at least, there was, and Jamie looks for comfort in the memory of him.
“Bones?” she whispers, a hand hovering over his hand before touching his forearm lightly, gently coaxing him out of his trance, “What is it? Tell me.”
He doesn’t. He swallows it down and takes her hands in his instead, asking for her forgiveness with feather-light kisses on her fingertips, her knuckles, the back of her hands, her wrists. He’s not sure he wants to know, not yet. The pain is too new, too raw, and he’s not ready to confirm it, to put a name to the owner of the shirt.
Jamie’s arms quiver under his ministrations, but she doesn’t shy away from him. When he looks up, her eyes are wide and hopeful, her mouth slightly parted as she breathes through it. She wets her lips when she notices him staring, but there’s something he needs to do before going there and he wants to at least get that right.
He collects her in his arms and he’s grateful that the shirt smells like her and no one else, tugs at one side of its collar to access to Jamie’s neck and pulls the necklace he knows she never takes off out, holding it between his fingers.
It takes him a minute to speak and during it, Jamie snuggles against him, pressing her face to his neck and inhaling deeply, just as he did on her hair. “I’m sorry, Jamie. I thought this was going to fix it, that it was going to be enough, but it wasn’t and I hurt you again,” he pauses, kisses the top of her head, “I’m sorry. I thought we weren’t ready for more, but I was stupid. I should’ve told you. We should’ve talked about it.”
Jamie breaks apart enough to look at him in the eyes again and Bones holds her gaze, hoping she finds what she needs in there, She seems to do it, at least partially, but she’s hesitant as she entwines her fingers with his own around the pendant and she whispers, awed but confused, “I don’t—I don’t understand, Bones. Do you want me? How could you? I tried so hard to get your attention, but it never worked. You never noticed.”
“I did, I always did,” Bones is expecting Jamie to flinch and when she does, he’s ready to hold her in place and he cups her face reverently, telling himself he can feel like the most stupid man on the planet later, because right now he needs to soothe her. Right now, she’s the only thing that matters, “I didn’t want to be a fling, Jamie. I wanted, I needed us to be more than that. I still do. If you’re still willing to have me, I’ll make it up to you and I won’t let you go.”
She’s digging her nails in his shoulders, hard enough to leave marks, but he doesn’t care. He wants her to listen and he won’t move an inch until she does, until she either agrees to give them a chance or kicks him out of her dorm.
Tears wet his hands when Jamie blinks and he tries not to panic, holds his breath until he feels her leaning into his touch. “It won’t,” she speaks, raising her left hand to hold his right against her cheek, “It won’t be a fling, I promise. I’ll be true to you, Bones, for as long as you’ll have me.”
They kiss, but Bones keeps it light and brief. He’s being a moron, he’s aware of it, but he doesn’t want to remember their first kiss with Jamie wearing another man’s clothes. Jamie’s roomie is still snoring beside them, so he figures he can get away with it without explaining and Jamie doesn’t ask for details or for anything else, she simply waits for him to undress down to his underwear and undershirt and puts the comforter over them, curling up against him.
Before she calls off the lights, he takes a look at the nightstand and stares.
The extent of his idiocy only gets larger and larger.
On top of it, there’s an old holo-pic of a young couple with a toddler between them. They’re blonde and beaming and the man in the picture is tall and broad and he’s wearing a blue flannel shirt that Bones recognizes instantly.
“They’re my parents and Sam, my brother,” Jamie murmurs drowsily against his collarbone, “He was three years old, I think.”
She doesn’t mention how happy they looked back then, without her. She doesn’t need to. Bones kisses her forehead, her hair, anywhere he can reach without disturbing her.
He’s not sure who needs the comfort more, but he gives it all the same.
He hopes he can show Jamie how happy she can make someone, how happy she can make him, how happy she’s been making him ever since he met her. He wants to convince her of it, to leave no trace of doubt in her mind about it and he’s sure it’ll take a long time, but that’s alright, because he makes a vow and he won’t break it, no matter how much of him it takes to fulfill it.
He’s not going anywhere, not without her.