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pynkhues · 4 years ago

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Hi, Sophie. I need some advice, and I understand if you aren't comfortable with responding, however I trust your opinion and your perspective which is why I've come to you (this might get long). I am feeling extremely and increasingly despondent about my place in the Good Girls fandom, to the point where I just don't want to write any more. This saddens me, as I enjoy creating content immensely, however I feel my work does not get the same engagement of works with equal merit,

particularly in regards to making it on to the rec lists that circulate a lot. I engage with the fandom, I’m enthusiastic about other’s work and encourage them to create, I consider myself to be a fandom member who understands this place is built on reciprocal engagement however I just don’t feel like I get any love back. This in turn makes me feel like I am genuinely not a good writer, despite my own belief to the contrary, and to wonder if I’m embarrassing myself by even bothering to continue.

I’ve asked for constructive feedback and been honest about not having a bruised ego if people were to tell me why my work doesn’t resonate with them as much as others, however this hasn’t come to anything (do people not do concrit any more?). How do I figure out where I’m going wrong? I know everyone likes to push the platitude of ‘fandom isn’t about receiving glory from others’ but with respect I think that’s an incredibly dismissive attitude to have (not that you appear to have that opinion),

(last message I promise!) particularly when fandom is entirely about interaction and content creation, and the symbiotic relationship between the consumer and the creator. I want people to engage with my work more, what’s the secret?

Hi! I’m so sorry it’s taken a week or so to get to this – it’s just been a bit of wild time lately for a whole suite of work and personal reasons.

Thank you for reaching out though! And I’m not uncomfortable at all with these sorts of questions. I think it opens up a really interesting conversation, which I’ll circle back to in a sec, but before I get into that, I want to say that I’m really sorry that you’re feeling despondent about your place in the GG fandom! I can’t speak to your specific experience of course, but I will say that I get where you’re coming from. I think it’s something that affects all of us at varying points, including myself, and I think that the sort of despondency you’re talking about is really something that taps into questions of any sort of creative landscape where people are creating and consuming work.

(Under a cut, because this reply is a little meandering, a little personal, annnnd about 4.5k words, haha)

It’s an interesting point too, because I think when we talk about this, we tend to think both of creative communities and/or fandoms as only having these sorts of issues when they’re BIG communities or BIG fandoms, but that’s not true at all. To me the reality of any sort of community – whether that be a million-person Marvel fandom or three-person knitting club – is that you have people wanting to connect with others, and, with the added factor of some of those people having a creative output within that community (whether that be through writing, art, gifsets or a really great set of mittens), you have an added level of vulnerability and investment.

People aren’t just seeking connection, they’re seeking - - well.

A whole lot more.

And you thread the needles of some of the issues of that really well in your ask too. Those three needles being engagement with your work, popularity of certain people, and how that’s bred an insecurity in your own work.

And seriously, as someone who’s worked extensively with creative communities, and on-and-off in cultural production for the last ten years? These are concerns that I think are endemic in all of these spaces; although perhaps I’d articulate them slightly differently.

You say engagement, popularity and the work.

I say community, profile and craft.

Potato, po-tah-toh, haha.

Ultimately these are three things that depend on each other just as much as they exist entirely independently of one another. It’s like a weird, polyamorous relationship that at its best works great and creates a thriving, mutually beneficial environment for people to grow and develop and engage, and at its worst is a totally toxic clusterfuck. Realistically though, this is a spectrum not an either-or scenario, which means probably 98% of the time a community space really is something in-between.

Unpacking the ecosystem of that I think is pretty crucial to the questions that you’re asking, so I hope you don’t mind me using this time as a bit of a launchpad to talk about those things.

Community

During my arts touring days, I used to see a lot of misconceptions around how communities came to be. There tended to very much be this ‘If You Build It, They Will Come’ ideology, which is really not the case at all. Sometimes that might work, but most of the time, community builds from the ground up, not the top down. It begins through – usually – a few people coming together out of need or want or passion, and then if enough people have that need, that want, that passion, that community will likely grow. That growth though is usually championed by certain members of said community, because communities do tend to need - - not leaders per se, but people who are invested and drive things that create space for engagement.

Fandom’s not any different at all, and in that sense the communities are built similarly around participation, trust, discussion and content, things I don’t really feel like I need to elaborate on because you clearly know that from your ask, and most of this post is going to be about the last of those things, but I think it’s just worth mentioning. Particularly because I want to add to that that in my experience, communities are also usually built pretty strongly around regularity.

For a show like Good Girls it’s kind of great because that regularity is built into the DNA of traditional TV – it airs weekly as opposed to being dropped in bingeable packets. So that sort of gives you this in-built ten, thirteen, eleven, soon-to-hopefully-be-sixteen weeks where there are appointments for engagement. As a part of that, you get an organic flurry of activity and a degree of commitment from people participating, which is further bolstered by the time in-between episodes having drops of sneak peek clips and promo pictures which in turn bolster speculation, theorising, and a hunger for creative content i.e. fic, art and gifsets.

Working in cultural production, we typically call this ‘appointment programming’ because the idea is that you build community around a regular event. People put it in their diaries, and choose to show-up. It used to be integral to TV, but it’s becoming far less so, but that’s a whole other thing. Appointment programming though encompasses a lot more than just TV viewing, it’s a part of our international cultural ecosystem – it’s festivals and cons, it’s touring concerts and shows, it’s showcases, it’s workshops – it’s anything that builds engagement around a specific experience, at a specific time.

The reason I bring this up is that to me – from my years of experience in fandom and natural tendency to think a lot about / dissect things that I participate in, haha – is that I think fandom spaces typically continue this appointment programming and production beyond the parameters of the content itself. We see this through conventions, fanfic big bangs and other challenges, awards, events, as well as just regular content generation.

Good Girls in particular has a lot of community-driven appointment programming. There’s the weekly re-watch I’ve done on here since August last year, as well as back in 2019, there’s @foxmagpie’s Good Girls’ Appreciation Week, @nottonyharrison’s fic awards, prompt-a-thon and kinkfest, the new fic awards too which are going around, as well as fic authors who publish regularly or on a fixed schedule - @fairhairedkings’ FBI fic I think being the best example of that.

But it’s not even always that structured. I’ll talk about this a bit more in my section on Profile below, but I think this extends to asks and replies. Basically to the expectation of content, whether that be gifs or art or fic or meta or surveys or rec lists, or some combination of all of the above.

I categorically hate the term, but the reason ‘Big Name Fans’ become ‘Big Name Fans’ are usually because their blogs become touchstones for more content (whether that’s original or sharing other people’s), which in turn means occasionally some voices can generate a profile that makes them sort of central figures of the broader community – because there’s this guarantee that you’re gonna go there and you’re gonna get regularly fed. Their blogs, including mine I think, become in and of themselves sort of ‘appointment programming’. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings on this in particular, both good and bad, but my feelings on it don’t particularly matter in this context, haha, so I’m going to leave that thread there.

The point I’m getting at is that while a community builds organically, a community, like anything, needs to be fed to grow, and that people are more likely to engage when they’re being fed regularly.

Look at this way, I was definitely at my most popular in this fandom when I was more or less posting an instalment of Playing House every week. Like, seriously - -

And that was on top of answering between three and ten asks a day.

In that sense, I think that outputs got a lot to do with engagement, particularly in smaller fandoms. There are fewer content producers, which I think bolsters the profile of the one’s posting a lot, regularly, which I think in turn can have the unfortunate trickle down effects too where other members of the fandom see there as being this wall and hierarchy that doesn’t necessarily actually exist, simply because certain names become prevalent.

I think if you come from a big fandom where there are 50, 100, 250 big content producers, it’s a bit more liberating and a lot easier to ‘curate your experience’ so to speak, whereas perhaps in a small fandom, like Good Girls, where there maaaaybe 15 regular content creators, that’s a lot harder. In the end I think that some people feel like you have to like and follow certain people and their work (you don’t!), that ‘it’s cool’ to not like those people (it’s not!), and that certain voices are being ‘silenced’ simply because they don’t have the same profile for whatever reason. Unfortunately that’s hard to get out of, because being in a small fandom is the equivalent of being in a very small, very hot room with not a lot of people, but enough that you’re going to bump into literally everyone on your way in and out of it.

(This is a bit of an aside, but I just want to say that that things do get personal in communities because you do get to know people and have relationships and they can end badly. It also sucks when those personal issues with members of the community bleed over and become public and make the space overall a bit shit. I’m very much guilty of this and will own that, but I have been trying hard to do better, and have completely stopped certain behaviours.

All that said, I do want to flag here that the very nature of this post means I’m going to be honest about my experiences. It’s not meant as subtags or as pointed comments, it’s just - - me talking about said experiences. If these people do still stalk my blog, which well - - I know they do because other people send me shit, haha, I hope that they don’t take any of this the wrong way).

So yeah – I think smaller fandoms can by their very nature become a bit of a melting pot of personalities which results in engagement becoming politicised. I personally do try to share everyone and to not politicise fic recs. I even rec people I personally don’t get along with if I feel it’s appropriate to do so i.e. my episode fic recs, but I’m pretty aware that that type of engagement is not a courtesy extended back to me. It did bum me out for a hot minute with a couple of people, gotta be honest, haha; one person in particular because I didn’t feel like we had a personal beef prior to her doing this, so I didn’t really understand why she was purposefully excluding me.

I knew she read my fics, and I knew it was personally targeted because she DM’d a friend (who I don’t think she realised was a friend of mine) and told her not to rec my fics which is – y’know – in my mind just kind of a dick move? (also really weird, like - - people aren’t going to leave the fandom just because you don’t like them, and you can’t omit them to a point they cease to exist lol), but at the end of the day, she can do whatever she wants, and I can’t control her behaviour, but I can control my own and propagate the culture that I want to be a part of.

On the flipside of that though, small fandoms – and bumping into everyone, haha – can also be great! It can foster friendships and relationships that really form the backbone of any community, and it’s really there that a lot of engagement outside of appointment-based consumption comes from. It’s those relationships that build growth and excitement and conversations and ultimately support.

I guess my point here is that often engagement and recs and championing can be a bit personal, and where you fit in a community, your relationships with people – good and bad – impacts the way people engage with your work. The funny thing is though right, like, jumping back a point, you might not even know what the beef someone has with you is. You can’t ever entirely know how people like or dislike you, where ego comes into it (and as someone who’s been in a lot of creative spaces, ego is alwaaaays present), what vulnerabilities and insecurities people have, where people are at in their creative journey, to say nothing of cultural differences in online spaces where people are from all over the world.

It’s complicated, is what I’m getting at, and the I think where you fit in community can have a big impact on how your work is received, even if we all like to say otherwise.

Profile

Let’s talk about Like an Unsung Chorus.

This is a fic that I wrote back in 2018. At the point of writing this answer, it’s the most kudos’ed fic in the GG category on ao3, and the most bookmarked.

Do I think it’s the best fic in the fandom?

Fuck no, haha. I don’t even think it’s the best fic I’ve written in this fandom, let alone among the rest of the talent we have here.

I think to talk about the success of that fic is to break it down to a few different factors:

I wrote that during the s1/s2 hiatus when there just weren’t that many fics, particularly long running ones, which means there wasn’t a lot of ‘appointment engagements’ for people to tap into. There were some really great ones! Please don’t get me wrong there! But there weren’t a lot.

I published the last chapter the day 2.01 aired, which means it was close to the top of ao3 the day the new season started + new fans arrived, and lapsed fans returned, which means it was a pretty meaty, finished fic for people to jump into straight away.

I created this sideblog a few weeks before I posted the last chapter, and the combination of that + the fic meant people started sending me asks about the show, which I started answering.

It’s been the most kudos’ed fic more or less since then, so it means every wave of new fans who search for Good Girls fic and sort by kudos – for better or worse – see that fic first, and well. Then it’s a self-perpetuating cycle.

Profile’s a funny thing to talk about I think when it comes to fandom because I tend to flip-flop on how much it has an impact on readers specifically. Like – yes, I’m a prolific member of this fandom, and I have the most kudos’ed fic in it, but my Ruby-centred fic Blue Moon only has 31 kudos and 300 hits, and I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sometimes bum me out. I like it as a story, I like that it prioritised character and backstory, I like what I wrote, and it’s not even that it just didn’t resonate, that low number of hits (just as a point of comparison, Chorus has almost 22k hits, and my most-read one-shot in this fandom has 12k hits) tells me a lot of people didn’t even give it a chance.

So in that sense, does profile even matter?

Okay, dumb question, Sophie, haha, yes, of course it has an impact.

I mean, comparing Blue Moon to Chorus is a false dichotomy for starters – one’s character-focused, not ship-focused; one’s a pastiche, the other is a plot heavy canon-extension; one’s a one-shot, one’s got 11 chapters, etc etc, but I do think it’s worth acknowledging what a small percentage of that readership transferred between them. My profile might have made a few people give it a shot, but it certainly didn’t affect all of them.

What I’m getting at here is that I think popularity and profile can often bear more weight in conversation than it does necessarily in reality. I do think that it has weight – I know for instance that some of my weirder concepts like Mick x Mary Pat got more traction than it necessarily would’ve if a brand new author to the fandom had written it – but I also think profile tips the scales in the opposite direction too. I mean I just talked about this but – personal beefs, people with those personal beefs actively encouraging others not to read or rec that person’s fics, people avoiding higher profile authors because they feel ignored by them (rightfully or wrongfully), etc etc.

Profile and popularity is, in a lot of ways, a double edged sword. I think it can bolster interest in your story and amplify your potential audience – particularly if you’re writing a story that hits the right note for people – but I also don’t think engagement is necessarily as symbiotic as you said in your ask.

I mean, I think it helps, but if the way people engaged with our work balanced with the way we engaged with other people’s works, we’d have a very different most kudos’ed fic list on ao3 (and I include myself in that – I’m not the best at commenting, although I do try to share and rec a lot).

So I guess that brings us to craft.

Craft

Like with the other two points, I can’t point solely to the craft of writing as having an answer to your question. I mean, I can’t speak to your writing at all given you’re on anon of course, but I think overall this is a really talented fandom, but it can be hard to predict the fics that strike a chord with people, but then, isn’t that true of all storytelling?

I mean, I could talk forever right now about arcs and scaffolding, emotional beats, thematic throughlines, whatever, but at the end of the day, what hits that note for you is probably different to what hits it for me. The way we engage with stories is subjective, what appeals to us is ultimately manufactured out of our unique histories, experiences, thought processes, desires and a million other things. There isn’t a secret ingredient, no recipe to be followed; if there was, everyone would have the world’s most popular story on their hands.

What’s important is to tell the story that resonates with you, because yeah, you want to be proud of the story that you’re writing, you want to enjoy it, but also that’s the one that’s going to feel authentic to a reader as well, and you do that through knowing who your characters are, what the story you’re telling is, and committing to that. Gosh, that’s why Twilight is cemented in our pop culture history alongside Animal Farm. There’s honesty to experience, whether that be manifesting teenage forever love with vampires or loading up farm animals with Russian Revolution metaphor.

But still, let me switch hats for a minute – fandom Sophie to editor Sophie, haha

Okay. Take all of this with a grain of salt, but here are some things I have noticed when reading fic, not just in this fandom but others too. These are broad, big picture comments – again, I can’t speak to you specifically because you’re on anon, and again, I can’t predict what makes things popular – but again. These are things I’ve pretty actively noticed when reading fic, and could play a role in perhaps a story not resonating as much as the author might want it to:

Missing Scenes

Writers like to skip ahead to the fun bits. That’s fine! Do it! Enjoy it! But when you skip the scenes that impact the next, just because you want to get to the next, your story will feel the loss of it.

That’s one of the best bits of writing advice I ever got actually – if a scene isn’t working, the issue often isn’t with that scene, it’s usually with one of the ones that got you there.

Storytelling is entirely made up of cause and effect, and if you skip out on the cause, the effect’s not going to work.

I’d really encourage you to embrace the unfun scenes, make them work hard with character development, conflict building, mood setting, so that the fun scenes sing.

Mood

Speaking of, really think about mood. When I’m writing, sometimes I don’t even know the story yet, but I know the mood of what I’m writing, the tone of it. I know if I want it to be fun and flirty or rough and angsty or tight and thrilling, and I try to feel that and imbue that into the process of my writing. Mood goes so far, and it’s what really creates resonance with the story that you’re telling. It’s what impacts the way you write dialogue, engage setting, build conflict, and it’s going to not just guide you as a writer, but your reader as an audience.

It’s an exercise I use a lot when I’m teaching, but think of it this way: two girls walk alone through the woods. A basic premise. Now think about how differently you’d write it if it was: comedy; family fairytale; horror.

Those are completely different stories, right? And what you focus on and how you write it is going to be so different. So even if you’re just trying to write something and you don’t really know what, just have a little think about the mood of it, and what sort of feeling you want readers to take away from it. And then! Use that mood when you’re thinking about setting (the trees in these woods are going to look very different after all if it’s a children’s fantasy vs a horror), action and dialogue. Embrace it!

Space

Space informs mood which informs the way we read stories.

I just touched on it in the above section, but embedding your story in a space is going to bring out so many different parts of it. It gives your characters objects to interact with, an environment to feel, a stage to play on.

Nothing happens in a vacuum, so why write that way? And again – space informs mood which ultimately is what creates resonance. Think of the gothic sprawl of the moors in Wuthering Heights or the way the house is used in The Lovely Bones to trap Lindsey when she finds the lock of her dead sister’s hair.

Understanding space can really level up your writing and make it feel alive.

(If you’re just starting out with this sort of thing, look at pictures, draw a map! It’ll help a lot).

But why?

My favourite and least favourite writing question, haha.

It’s also my favourite and least favourite question as a reader. Understanding character motivations – whether they be major or minor characters – is pivotal to investing a reader in the journey of your story. As a reader, I don’t have to like it, but I need to get it, and that’s something I think is often unfortunately missing.

Engagement

Oof, this got long, haha. Sorry! There were a few personal tangents in there, but my point is ultimately that there isn’t a simple, single answer for your questions. The way people engage are, in my experience, this perfect cocktail of totally predictable and completely unpredictable. I think place in community and profile helps in some respects, but not in others, I think engagement can as much be about popularity as it can be about craft, and even beyond that, I think how readers connect with certain stories are beyond the scope of anything I can explain. I see great fics get overlooked, and fics that I don’t think are particularly well-written hit a huge note with pretty much everyone in the fandom, so I don’t know. I don’t think quality writing always has that much to do with it, and like I said above, I don’t even necessarily think profile breeds engagement.

All of this said, I do think that authenticity goes a long way with engagement. I know a few people who are very blatantly tit-for-tat with how they engage with others, which personally I find hmmmmmmmmmmm, I guess I’d say telling of people’s priorities within fandom? Which is fine! We’re all here for our own reasons, but I know it affects how I personally interact with those people because it’s not behaviour I personally value. I know for me, I’m more likely to engage if people are warm and friendly and contributing to positive culture and conversation within fandom, but I’d also always prefer to engage with people who were just openly different in opinion than people who pretend to be friendly but are actually the first to talk shit behind your back.

So I guess all of this is summing up to be:

Regularity and consistency of posting goes a long way.

Profile does help, but it’s not the be-all-and-end-all by any stretch of the imagination.

Community and profile mean different things to different people.

Authenticity of approach creates better quality, more organic engagement.

Never stop learning about writing, because the more you learn, the richer your stories will be.

Keep growing and challenging what you know about stories.

Know that sometimes your story is more niche than you think.

People responding to your stories unfortunately isn’t a lock and key situation. People like different shaped keyholes! And sometimes something that looks like a key doesn’t actually fit that, and sometimes something that looks like - - I don’t know, a fish, fits perfectly. Okay, I’ve extended this metaphor too far now, haha.

I don’t think this is the answer you want, but it’s the only one I can really give, and it’s 5k words of context and hopefully a little bit of advice, haha. But look, write what you enjoy, find people you like engaging with and be proactive in talking to the people who are engaging with your writing already. Contribute positively and meaningfully, and do so authentically, and don’t give up!

There’s a great Stephen King quote which says – and I’m paraphrasing here, haha – that you’re not a real writer until you can wallpaper your house in rejection letters; and as someone who can absolutely do that and is about to have her first novel published with Penguin Random House, it’s really true.

You become a better writer through putting yourself out there, building networks and community, reading, learning, engaging, seeing what works and what doesn’t, understanding how profile bolsters readership, but more so than anything else, you become a better, more resonant writer through the act of writing.

And that’s as true of fanfic as it is of any writing.

#fandom #fanfiction #welcome to my ama #Anonymous

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spacedancer1701 · 5 years ago

Text

On Borrowed Time - a Star Trek fic (Chapters 21 - 30)

Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (AOS) Pairing: McCoy x Original Female Character (Dr. Jennifer Hope) Characters: The Crew of the USS Enterprise (NCC-1701) Rating/Warnings: None Tags: Friendship, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Mild H/C, Caring/Protective/Tender/Comforting/Happy/Grumpy McCoy Word Count: This is a long one 😄 (61 chapters - 120k)

Read it on AO3: On Borrowed Time

Chapter 21

Hope was very quiet that evening, McCoy noticed. Not necessarily sad, but her thoughts were clearly elsewhere. After she’d told him not to worry so much, she’d mostly been staring out into space, slowly sipping her coffee, and he was content to just sit back and watch her.

Knowing that he’d be here, she’d obviously come looking for him, and he was glad that, after the emotional rollercoaster he’d put her on by stupidly mentioning her family, she still felt comfortable around him. If just sitting here, next to him, quietly enjoying her coffee was what she needed, that was all right with him. Whatever helped her find back to her cheerful self again, quite obviously her most pressing issue.

Moping about was just not in her nature, and he could almost see her fight the ‘negative vibes’, as she’d probably call them, that stood between her and her natural state of happiness.

Looking at her beautiful face, so deep in thought, softly lit by the observation deck’s dim lighting, he couldn’t help thinking how a single person had changed his life so much for the better in so short a time.

Despite his reputation as a curmudgeon, which he rather enjoyed, McCoy was actually an affable person, always good for a laugh. But he had to admit that he hadn’t laughed as much as he had since Hope arrived in a long time. She could be hilarious, her wit and cheerfulness infectious.

When she was there, she was the heart and soul of the rec room. And when it was just the two of them in his office or over coffee, she could always make him smile over something or other, even after a hard and frustrating day.

Like with the patients, she always seemed to know what he needed. Be it a deep conversation to help him get closure over something or just playful banter to cheer him up. Belying her youth or the fact that he’d always assumed that was what buddies – male buddies – were for, she was the perfect friend for both.

And if, at times, she read him wrong, he could simply tell her. He could always speak his mind with her, it was refreshing. He could even ask her to leave him alone without her taking offence. Theoretically. Since this had yet to happen.

Jim was and would always be his closest friend. He trusted him completely and knew he could tell him anything. And there was Scotty, of course. But there were things that you just didn’t discuss with a mate.

Uhura was lovely, too. He knew he could always count on her where it mattered. But their relationship was a flirty one. They’d never had a deep or really personal conversation.

Christine, on the other hand, was anything but flirty. Always calm and professional. And he admired and appreciated her for it. He knew he could totally rely on her and her confidentiality. She was great to discuss medical matters with. But she somehow lacked the warmth that encouraged more personal, intimate conversations.

Well, thank God for Dr. Hope, he thought with a dreamy smile, taking a sip from his coffee.

Maybe it was because they were not too different in some ways. They were both people who others came to for help, or advice, or an open ear. And they were good listeners. But even though they appeared very chatty and open, they were, in fact, both rather private people who didn’t easily share personal matters.

Most people didn’t seem to notice, of course. They were happy to unburden themselves, and that was enough. Come to think about it, he’d already shared a lot more personal matters with Hope than with anybody else. Joanna, for example. Because Hope genuinely cared. And because she didn’t judge.

He briefly thought about how his and Joanna’s life would have turned out with a different wife at his side. Someone warm and caring like Hope.

Don’t even go there, Leonard, he scolded himself, pushing the thought to the farthest reaches of his mind.

At any rate, it had really done him good to open up to Hope about Joanna. And he genuinely hoped she’d let him return the favour soon and share her sorrows with him, too.

********************

With a sinking feeling in his heart, Chekov watched Jenny and McCoy from the other side of the observation deck. No matter what he did, they seemed to be growing closer every day. Huddled together on that couch, they seemed so intimate, so familiar with each other, it made him cringe. At least they weren’t touching.

Perhaps he was imagining things, maybe Jenny and the doctor were really nothing more than friends after all. Like she was friends with her buddies from the band. But then again, lovely as Jenny was when they danced or worked out together, their relationship was definitely not evolving the way he’d like it to. Whenever he tried to tell her of his feelings, she’d just laugh it off and change the subject, talking about her career being her number one priority. Or worse, rattle on about this ‘brotherly/sisterly’ feeling between them.

For the past couple of weeks, Chekov had taken to joining Jenny and McCoy over breakfast or dinner, whenever he could, the latter seeming to ‘supervise’ every single one of her meals as of lately. If he couldn’t have Jenny, he figured, at least he wouldn’t leave her to the doctor without a fight.

But strangely, they didn’t seem to mind and even asked him to join them at their table whenever they saw him. The thought struck him that they might just want him around to divert from their own budding relationship. And fond as he was of the doctor, the idea was killing him.

He’d tried talking to his friends about it several times, but they’d just smiled and said variations of ‘What will be will be’. Only Uhura had sometimes gently suggested that, doctor or no doctor, he would surely notice if Jenny felt more than friendship for him.

********************

Uhura sometimes tried to get Jenny to talk about her feelings. But while she quite openly admitted that she was not in love with Chekov, she always avoided talking about her feelings for the doctor. She’d say things like what a great physician he was, or how kind or fun to be around, but that was it.

“Right, you’re definitely not in love with poor Pavel,” Uhura said to Jenny as they were jogging side by side on the treadmills in the gym. “But what about the doctor?”

“What about him?” Jenny glanced at Uhura, grimacing at her impish smirk. “What do you want to hear? I just like being around him. I find his presence incredibly soothing.”

“Soothing?” Uhura chortled, surprise making her lose her rhythm and nearly slide off the treadmill. “We’re talking about Dr. McCoy here, right?”

“The one and only.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Jenny, I like him a lot, I really do. But soothing is about the last word that comes to mind when I think of him. He’s so hyper and bouncy and irascible and talkative, always good for discussions and confrontations.”

“That’s how you see him?” Jenny looked at Uhura pensively. “I mean, yes he can be rather restless. And passionate. Especially in his capacity as a physician. But he is also really kind and caring, a very good listener and observer. Which means he can be calm and quiet, too. Maybe you just don’t notice how often he takes a backseat and just watches?”

“You might have a point there. He’s certainly one of the good guys. Fun and sweet, too. Maybe I just see what he wants us to see.”

“Yes, maybe. He certainly likes to cultivate his image as curmudgeon,” Jenny giggled. “But just think of how calm he is in emergencies. So focused, so in control, every move executed precisely and expertly. I find that immensely reassuring. Simply watching him makes me feel safe.”

“I get what you mean. You’re right. He’s incredible in crises,” Uhura admitted. “I always feel safer on missions when he’s part of the landing party. Like whatever injuries you might incur, he’ll fix them.”

“Exactly.”

“So, to get back to our actual topic,” Uhura grinned at Jenny, “apart from ‘soothing’, do you find him anything else?”

“Uh, leave me alone, Nyota, will you?” Jenny shook her head and increased the pace on her treadmill a little. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not looking for a man? I’m perfectly fine building my career and living the dream of being a starship officer.”

Uhura fell silent. She still had her suspicions, of course, but it could well be that Jenny really just wanted a career and was in no hurry to hitch up with a man. The doctor, on the other hand, was another matter. Even though he’d probably never act on it, he was clearly as smitten with Jenny as Chekov. That was plain for everyone to see. Even poor Pavel.

Chapter 22

“Captain, I’m receiving a subspace signal,” Uhura’s voice startled Kirk out of the report he was reading and he looked up excitedly.

Even though it had only been a few days since Scotty had given the all clear after the rock exploding incident, the captain was already getting bored again, as uneventful shifts seemed to drag on.

“Who’s it from? What does it say?” he asked eagerly.

“Unknown, Captain,” came Spock’s immediate answer.

“Come again?” Kirk spun round to the science station, frowning.

“Unknown, Sir,” Spock repeated, unruffled. “The planet it originates from is uninhabited. No intelligent life found there, no animal life at all, more precisely.”

“And the message is just gibberish,” Uhura added, sounding mystified and a little miffed.

“A code of some kind?” Kirk asked, knowing quite well that Uhura would already have checked every possibility.

“No, Sir,” came her crisp reply, “there is no pattern to the signal whatsoever.”

“Spock? Anything?” the captain turned back to his science officer.

“Negative, Captain.”

“Maybe we should consult Dr. Hope?” Chekov piped up.

“Excellent idea, Ensign,” Kirk readily agreed. “Maybe her ‘intuition’ can shed some light on this. Call her to the bridge, please, Uhura.”

********************

Down in sickbay, an excited Hope asked McCoy for permission to leave for the bridge.

“Of course, Hope, you go, girl!” he smiled, taking a stack of vaccines off her hands and waving her off with a friendly pat on the back.

This will do her good, he thought.

Happy as she seemed here in sickbay, she was certainly thrilled at the chance to put her qualifications to good use, the thought of working in her actual field of expertise again for a change, definitely appealing.

Maybe that was exactly what she needed. Her mind taken off whatever was bothering her by a challenging task in her area of competence. The area she was so passionate about.

McCoy was, of course, still determined to get to the bottom of the mystery surrounding her, but dwelling on it was certainly not the right way to do so. He’d learned long ago, that you couldn’t force anyone to open up. Not if you wanted to get to the truth, anyway. No, he’d let her know that he’d be there, if she wanted to talk. Now it was up to her.

He needed her to trust him, not to scare her off by constantly nagging and prying. And he certainly didn’t want her to be continuously reminded of her sorrows. Not if she just wanted to be happy.

Less than an hour later, after Hope hadn’t managed to gain any more information from the signal than Uhura and Spock had, explaining to Kirk that all of the intuitive equipment needed to be close to the source to function properly, McCoy and Kirk were having a heated discussion in the captain’s quarters over whether or not Hope was ready to be included in a landing party.

“I simply don’t think it’s a good idea, Jim!”

“Why not? She’s proven herself more than capable over the past few months. And I have orders to give her a full all-round training, remember?”

“Since when do you give a damn about orders, Jim?” McCoy groused.

Kirk just gave him a wry look.

“But then I’ll come, too. I have a bad feeling about this,” the doctor insisted.

“You have a bad feeling about every mission, Bones,” the captain chuckled, and then, giving his friend a sly grin, continued, “or do you have more personal reasons this time?”

“Oh, please, leave me alone, Jim,” McCoy groaned.

“Well, you do spend an awful lot of time with her.”

“So what? So does Chekov. And Scotty. And Uhura. Even Spock for that matter. And by the way, so do you!”

“Well, she is delightful to be around!” Kirk snorted with laughter.

McCoy chose to ignore the silly teasing and, giving a resigned shrug, resumed their original discussion.

“I’m just saying, I’m her doctor, and I’ve only just begun to understand her medical issues.”

“I thought they were only minor?” Kirk shot him a hard glance, all teasing gone from his voice.

“Yes, they are,” the doctor conceded, “but not very common these days and I don’t have any experience with them at all.”

“Will her performance be impaired?” Kirk was being serious now.

“No, not in a crucial way.”

“So that’s settled then,” the captain said impatiently. “She’s coming. And so are you.”

McCoy’s head shot up at that last sentence, and he gave Kirk a grateful nod.

********************

When McCoy entered the transporter room, medikit slung over his shoulder, fully prepared for every eventuality, Hope was already there, nervously checking her utility and weapons belt.

She looked up at the hiss of the doors and smiled at him, trying to radiate confidence and professionalism like she always did. And, of course, he didn’t let on that he saw right through her. That he clearly - and fondly - saw the apprehension and insecurity beneath that confident and cheerful smile.

He wanted to say something reassuring, but before he could even open his mouth, the doors hissed open again, and Kirk entered in his usual energetic stride, avidly awaiting the next adventure.

“Welcome to your first landing party, Hope!” he grinned at her. “Ready for some excitement planetside?”

McCoy knew, of course, that Jim didn’t know Hope as well as he did, didn’t recognise the slight tremor in her eyes giving away that she feared the new experience as much as she was looking forward to it. Had never seen the timid and vulnerable side to the confident and sassy personality she wanted the world to see. But he still could have punched the captain for his thoughtlessness, when he saw Hope slightly wince and pale before rearranging her features into a dazzling smile.

“Can’t wait, Sir,” she beamed at him, “thank you, Sir!”

********************

Jenny felt her heart hammering against her chest as she watched Peterson from Security calmly arranging his belt. She’d known this day would come and been looking forward to it immensely, but suddenly wasn’t so sure she was ready anymore.

Nothing hostile on the planet, the captain had said. No animal or intelligent life, only lush and abundant flora, a nice, breathable atmosphere, and a little linguistic mystery. The perfect setup for her first landing party. They’d be back before dinnertime.

Spock had wanted to come, too. But the captain had told him to stay on the ship. Just in case, he’d said. And it was then that Jenny had realised this was it, this was real.

She’d been tremendously relieved to hear that McCoy was coming with them, his mere presence making her feel safe. When they stepped onto the transporter platform, and she felt his reassuring hand resting briefly on her shoulder, she could have kissed him.

The last thing she saw before fading out in the tingling transporter beam, was the doctor’s kind smile as he mouthed, “You’ll be fine!”

Chapter 23

As soon as they materialised, they quickly looked around and took a few scans to secure the area. Kirk was amused to see Hope following protocol down to a T, probably having rehearsed it like one of her dance choreographies. But he was also satisfied to see that she’d clearly done her homework.

While she was focused on her purpose-built linguistic tricorder, the captain took out his communicator to check in with Spock.

“Impressive scenery here, Spock,” he said, taking in his surroundings. “Everything’s just huge!”

“I did inform you about the flora of this planet being superior to most, Captain. In scale, colour and scent,” sounded his first officer’s unimpressed voice from the communicator.

“Of course you did, Mr. Spock,” Kirk smiled, “but it’s even more gigantic when you’re standing right in the middle of it.”

“Captain, I don’t see how …”

“Thank you, Mr. Spock,” the captain quickly cut in, before Spock could start to dissect his last statement in earnest. “I’ll check in with you again in one hour. Kirk out!”

Then, still grinning, he turned to Hope.

“Found anything yet, Hope? Where do we get our answers? Lead the way!”

But Hope just shook her head, looking somewhat dismayed.

“I’m sorry, Captain, I can’t get anything. There’s just no signal.”

Frowning, Kirk pulled his communicator out again.

“Uhura, we’re not getting any readings down here. What’s your status on the signal?”

“It stopped while you were talking to Mr. Spock, Sir,” the communications officer replied. “I’m trying everything to get it back, unsuccessfully so far.”

“Keep trying, Uhura, and let us know of any progress. Kirk out!” he shut his communicator a little too forcefully, and Hope winced at his obvious displeasure.

McCoy’s heart went out to her. She was clearly taking the sudden absence of the signal as a personal failure. Taking a step closer to where she was standing, he surveyed the enormous trees and man-sized flowers. A giant redwood wouldn’t look giant here at all.

“This is like out of a storybook,” he said reverently, drawing Kirk’s attention away from Hope. “The trees and twines seem to go on forever. It looks like even the sky is higher up here.”

“Good thing, Spock couldn’t hear you, Bones,” the captain laughed. “He might have to say a thing or two about the sky being higher or lower.”

“I see what you mean, Doctor,” Peterson chuckled. “I’m just waiting for Jack to climb down his beanstalk.”

Looking up from her tricorder, Hope added, “You’re right, this landscape looks so unreal, maybe we’ll even come across some oversized teacups or the big white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland!”

She was quite taken aback, when that earned her a disgruntled look from McCoy and an exaggerated chortle from Kirk, who obviously found this hilarious.

“Better not talk to Bones about Alice or the rabbit, Hope,” the captain warned, still chuckling, as she just looked on in bewilderment. “He holds a personal grudge against them, against all of Wonderland, actually. But that’s a story for another day. I’m sure the good doctor will be happy to tell you all about it.” 1)

McCoy snorted, then returned his gaze to his tricorder and mumbled, “Let’s just focus on the task at hand here, shall we?”

Kirk had Peterson and McCoy scout out wider parts of the area to one side of where Hope was still busy with her tricorder, while he made his way to the other side. Just when he was starting to get really impatient, his communicator beeped and an audibly relieved Hope reported that the signal was back. So did Uhura mere seconds later.

The captain quickly contacted McCoy and Peterson, and by the time they arrived back at Hope’s location, they saw her standing in the middle of the small clearing, her phaser drawn and pointed at what could only be described as a giant beetroot, moving slowly, but threateningly towards her, secreting some kind of acid and burning everything in its path.

“Shoot!” Kirk shouted, realising that she was just standing there, frozen, and drew his own phaser.

He hit the ‘creature' an instant before Hope’s phaser beam had the already staggering beetroot drop to the ground, where it lay motionless.

“Why didn’t you shoot sooner? It could have killed you!” Kirk snapped, evidently unhappy with her poor performance, while McCoy and Peterson cautiously approached the ‘thing’ on the ground.

“It’s dead, Jim,” McCoy called out. “Assuming it ever lived. It’s got some sort of roots that look like they’ve been ripped out of the ground. Presumably that’s how it moved. We can’t touch it, though, it’s highly corrosive.”

And straightening up again, he added a grumbling, “So much for ‘nothing hostile’ on this planet.”

Turning back to Kirk, who had already flipped open his communicator and was talking to Spock, McCoy saw that Hope hadn’t moved an inch. Phaser still in hand, she was standing in the same spot, staring unseeingly at the downed creature.

Realising that she was in a state of shock, he hurried to her side, put an arm around her shoulders and gently took the phaser from her, all the time talking soothingly to her.

“The Captain’s just scared for you, dear,” he murmured, “that’s why he snapped at you like that.”

He held her a little tighter and gently shook her, until she finally came round and immediately broke away from him to throw up behind a bush.

“I’ve never killed before in my life,” she whispered, when she heard him come up behind her.

Crouching down in front of her, McCoy gently cupped her face in his hand to get her attention, and when he caught her eye, looked at her intensely. He needed to pull her out of her shock. And quickly. Kirk expected nothing but efficiency from his crew. He had no patience for insecurities on a mission. Hope would have to deal with the emotional fallout of her first kill later. And he’d help her with it, like he’d helped many a rookie before. But now was not the time.

The touch of a gentle hand roused Jenny from her dizzy thoughts, and she looked up to find the doctor’s kind blue eyes only inches from her face. Her first instinct was to lean into him for comfort, but his piercing gaze brought her back to reality and she pulled herself together.

“You’re going to be alright, Hope, I promise,” he said softly, standing up and pulling her to her feet. “We’ll talk about all of this back on the Enterprise, but now we just need to move on, ok? Can you do that?”

“Of course, Doctor, thank you,” she whispered and gratefully wiped her face with a tissue he handed her while putting his arm around her shoulders to give her a quick hug and a reassuring rub.

This little gesture was all she needed to get her moving again. The doctor certainly knew how to comfort and reassure. Jenny felt an intense surge of affection and gratitude as she straightened both her uniform and her posture, and gave him a nod to say she was ready to move on.

Following McCoy back to Kirk and Peterson, she could hear the captain’s angry voice.

“What? You mean we’re stuck here?”

“Afraid so, Captain,” Scotty’s apologetic voice sounded from his communicator. “A delayed aftereffect of that blasted rock exploding in our face, Sir.”

“How long?” Kirk barked.

“Couple of hours, Sir, if there’s no further surprises.”

“Right. Get on it then, Mr. Scott!” the captain sighed, and, snapping his communicator shut, informed the others, “Guess we’ll get to follow that signal’s trail after all. Everybody, watch out for hostile vegetable!”

Kirk allowed Hope a couple more minutes to recover and adjust the settings on her tricorder. As soon as McCoy indicated that she was good to go, the small party set off, following traces of unintelligible babble.

It was her very first landing party and everything was going sideways. She should really be afraid, scared even. But strangely enough, she wasn’t. Looking from the captain to Peterson, and then on to McCoy, she was suddenly, inexplicably certain that everything would be all right in the end.

********************

1) Reference to the TOS episode “Shore Leave”

Chapter 24

They moved along at a steady pace, with Peterson leading the way and Kirk bringing up the rear, and Jenny thought how nice it was to actually walk on soft ground and breathe unfiltered air again for a change. It didn’t matter that it was nothing like Earth, that the smell was not entirely pleasant, or that you constantly had to watch your back. She could fully understand why people scrambled for every chance to be included in a landing party, never mind the dangers that came with it.

The captain filled them in on his conversation with Spock, who had already investigated why there were no recordings of hostile or dangerous species. The First Officer had found out that most of the existing data was just the result of a number of simple scans from a distance, while the first and only team of explorers to ever actually set foot on the planet had spent less than three hours here. Since it had no valuable mineral resources to offer, the uninhabited planet had obviously never been of great interest.

Walking right behind her, McCoy kept a close eye on Hope. He didn't want to risk a repeat of the beetroot incident, the need to protect her stronger than ever. Neither did he want to embarrass her by being overprotective, of course, especially not in front of the others, but he needed to make sure she knew that he had her back. Although she’d probably never admit it, perhaps wasn't even aware of it, he knew how deeply engrained her longing to feel secure was.

Behind them, Kirk smiled as he watched McCoy follow Hope like a guard dog. His friend was a healer with all his heart, his prime concern to protect his patients from any harm, no matter his personal feelings towards them. But with Hope, it was definitely more than that. There was something about her that seemed to touch a special place in the doctor’s heart and made his concern for her well-being go far beyond professional duty.

Following the slowly but steadily increasing signal, they had already passed through a forest, and were now crossing a meadow, feeling like ants fighting their way through blades of bright green grass twice their size. That way, at least, they were protected from the sun that had started to really burn down on them.

But just as McCoy was starting to complain about the heat, making sure they were all drinking enough to stay hydrated, heavy rainclouds began to form in the sky, and mere minutes later, it was raining heavily. They quickly sought shelter under a giant kind of toadstool, and when Kirk was nearly hit by a hailstone the size of his fist, he brusquely pushed Hope and the doctor further towards the trunk, motioning Peterson to follow suit.

Jenny stood with her face against the trunk, feeling McCoy’s body warm against her back, a protective hand cupping the back of her head, as he tried to shield her from stray hailstones. Despite her rather uncomfortable position, she couldn’t help enjoying the unexpected bliss of the moment. A whole army of tall and beefy Petersons couldn’t have made her feel as sheltered as she felt now, pressed against the caring doctor.

No more than a couple of minutes later, however, hail turned into the softest snow, and McCoy could release her again, almost sorry to let her go, since this was definitely the closest he’d ever come to holding her in his arms. Not counting the day she’d passed out in sickbay, seemingly ages ago, of course, as she’d not even been conscious then.

********************

Grateful for the material of their Starfleet uniforms, that protected them, at least moderately, against the heat and the cold, they continued on their hike, admiring the way the huge snowflakes drifted through the air, and at the same time hoping the sun would soon be back out to warm and dry them again.

Their wish was granted within less than ten minutes, when the cold and windy winter’s day turned back into a lovely spring day.

Kirk pulled out his communicator to check on Scotty’s progress.

“You’d better hurry, Scotty,” he urged. “The weather here’s worse than in Scotland! They may have all seasons in one day, while we, here, had all seasons in half an hour!”

Unfortunately, the chief engineer had only bad news for them. They’d had an unexpected power drain on the Enterprise, and needed several more hours to recharge the transporters.

“At that rate, you might as well send a shuttle, Mr. Scott,” Kirk suggested, starting to sound really annoyed. “It’ll be getting dark soon, and I’d rather not stay the night.”

“Err, about that, Sir,” Scotty began, then faltered.

“What now?” Kirk asked exasperatedly, his voice suspiciously quiet.

“Well, that power drain I talked about? If we recharge the shuttles, too, we’ll take away energy form the transporters.”

“I see,” the captain said wearily. “We’ll try to get comfortable for the night then. But you’d better come up with one of your miracles shortly, Mr. Scott. This is getting really tiresome.”

Concentrating on finding shelter rather than the source of the signal, the little group headed towards another forest further downhill. Luckily, they had brought enough food and water rations to last them another two or three days, thanks to McCoy’s prudence.

Less lucky, however, was the fact that Hope’s medical pouch was ripped out of her hand and carried away by a sudden, forceful gust of wind, just as she was about to take her eye medication.

Horrified, she watched the pouch being lifted ever higher into the air, while frantically holding on to the three men surrounding her, so as not to be carried away by the storm, too.

The wind died down again as quickly as it had started, and Hope stared incredulously after her pouch.

“Seriously?” she yelled angrily in the direction where it had vanished. “Can’t I do anything right? No wonder Starfleet won’t have me!”

To McCoy’s surprise, the captain was at her side before he was, and kindly but decidedly told her to stop the self-pitying, and get going again instead.

“This is only your first assignment,” he added encouragingly, “there’s still plenty of time for you to learn. You’re doing a great job so far.”

Hope looked thoughtfully at the captain for a moment, then nodded, brushed down her uniform, fixed her windswept hair – rather ineffectively – in a knot again, pulled herself up to her full height, and smiled at her three companions.

“Let’s go, gentlemen!”

Seeing Kirk give her a satisfied smile, seemingly impressed by how quickly she’d pulled herself together again, McCoy felt incredibly proud of her.

The party got moving again, the hike to the nearest forest taking much longer than Kirk had expected. The rain and snow had made the ground slippery, and walking became more difficult by the minute. Especially, since they were getting tired, too.

Falling into step beside her, McCoy told Hope not to worry. He had, of course, brought some of her eye-medication, too, although only a little quantity for emergencies. He therefore wanted to save it as long as possible and not let her have any yet.

Kirk was getting concerned about Hope, but McCoy correctly pointed out that she was probably in better shape than the two of them put together. The only sign of her getting tired, too, was her starting to slip and stumble repeatedly, as her nystagmus started to affect her eye-sight.

With McCoy still hesitating to squander the little of the medication they still had, Kirk smiled, watching the doctor hold out a helping hand towards her over and over again, which she stubbornly kept ignoring.

The two of them are certainly a perfect match in the stubbornness department, Kirk chuckled to himself.

He understood, however, why she wanted to prove that she could take care of herself. Especially after her failure to shoot that beetroot earlier. But McCoy just couldn't help himself. Tired as he certainly was, preventing her from getting hurt was still his prime concern.

His friend was a man always more concerned about others than about himself. And offering a helping hand to steady Hope when she lost her footing, was a reflex action.

After having slipped and nearly fallen three times, Hope gave in at last, and accepted the doctor’s help. Leading her by the hand, sometimes putting a steadying arm around her waist, they soon made faster progress again.

Their hike seemed to go on forever, and it was almost dark, when they finally found suitable shelter in a den formed by rocks and covered by a thick blanket of roots.

Firing at one of the rocks until it started to glow and radiate heat, Peterson asked permission to take the first watch.

“All right, Peterson. You first, then me, then McCoy,” the captain ordered, then turned to Hope almost apologetically. “Don’t take offence, Hope, I don’t doubt your ability to stay awake for a minute, but you don’t have any experience, and seeing what happened earlier, I just can’t risk it. If you freeze again, and there’s no one awake to step in, we’re all done for.”

There, he’d said it. Hope hung her head, but, of course, knew that he was right.

“Of course, Captain, I understand,” she replied quietly.

Peterson took position by the entrance to their den, while the others found a stonewall dry and smooth enough to prop themselves up against and try to find some sleep in a sitting-up position. Exchanging no more than a quick glance, Kirk and McCoy made themselves comfortable on either side of Hope.

********************

Jenny was wide awake, half-lying between the captain and the doctor, eyes closed and trying to breathe evenly, hoping to fake sleep convincingly. She felt pleasantly protected, nestled in between the two men, yet her mind wouldn’t rest, replaying the shooting scene over and over again. She’d always known she’d get into situations like that eventually, but the reality had still hit her hard. The captain, trained to find rest whenever possible, had fallen asleep within moments, but she knew the doctor hadn’t. She could feel his concerned eyes on her, and, after some time, his reassuring hand on her shoulder.

McCoy knew that she was afraid. Mostly of Jim sending her back to this out-of-the-way starbase. After the beetroot incident, it had been obvious that she was worried about her performance, fearing the captain would not commend her for further starship duty after all.

“Can’t sleep, can you, Hope?” he murmured.

“No,” she admitted. “Too many things on my mind.”

“Take it easy. Nobody expects you to be perfect on your first assignment with a landing party. There’s no shame in admitting to being a little nervous.” She looked at him in the near darkness.

“It was awful, Doctor,” she whispered. “I’ve never taken a life before.”

“And you didn’t, the captain did,” he reminded her gently. “If it even was a living being in the first place. But you might have to, one day. Comes with the job. You knew that when you joined Starfleet.”

She was silent for a moment, considering his words. “Do you ever get used to it?” she asked uneasily.

“Yes, and no,” he replied sincerely. “You’ll get used to using your weapons, to fight and defend yourself if you have to. But you’ll always be affected by hurting someone or even taking a life. That’s what makes you a decent human being.”

“I’ve always known that the real thing would be very different from training, from drills. In theory. But I never expected it to be so infinitely worse than anything I’ve ever prepared for.”

“It’ll get easier with time.”

Hope looked at him doubtfully, and he felt with her. “We really need to sleep now,” he said softly.

She nodded and, unthinkingly, reached for his hand still lying on her shoulder, giving it a grateful squeeze. When he didn’t pull away, she held on to it, drawing comfort from the touch and his presence.

And as she drifted off to sleep, the enormity of being part of the crew of the Enterprise, of being in the middle of a dangerous adventure with the captain, no less, followed her into her dreams. McCoy squeezed her fingers gently, comfortingly, and let her cling to his hand until she was fast asleep and he felt her grip loosen. He’d take care of her, try to give her the feeling of security she needed. Until she trusted him enough to tell him about her real issues.

Chapter 25

Hope had slept surprisingly well, more sitting than lying on the hard ground. The hike and all the excitement of the previous day had obviously worn her out more than she cared to admit. Or maybe having her favourite doctor hold her hand had helped. She hadn’t even been roused by the men changing shifts, and she felt a little guilty about it. Like she hadn’t pulled her weight.

But McCoy, who’d had the last watch and was now waking everybody up, didn’t seem to hold it against her.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he smiled warmly, as he handed out nutrition bars, then added with a wink, “I’m not even asking you about last night’s dreams. This definitely doesn’t count as a new bed, does it?”

Jenny shook her head and laughed, touched that he still remembered their conversation from her first day aboard.

McCoy was relieved to see her well rested and cheerful again. After their whispered conversation the evening before, he’d been afraid that the beetroot incident, certainly the stuff of nightmares, might haunt her in her sleep. But when Jim had woken him to take over, Hope had been soundly asleep, looking perfectly peaceful, and he’d spent the bigger part of his watch just looking at her in the dim light of the still glowing rock.

She was so pretty. The longer he knew her, the more beautiful she became. And, if anything, her slightly dishevelled state after the hike in the wind and the rain only added to her beauty. He’d just sat there and gazed at her, enjoying that he could, for once, take his time to do so. She’d really grown on him since she’d arrived only months ago. And he’d rather not think about a time when she wouldn’t be in his life anymore.

The way she was sandwiched between Jim and Peterson made him smile. Quite obviously, he was not the only one to feel protective of her. Protectiveness just being one of the many emotions Hope evoked in him.

But the doctor didn’t want to examine his feelings too closely. Why he was so moved by her, why being near her made him feel so alive. Why she seemed to fill a place in his heart no one else could. What was the point?

He knew that he couldn’t let himself have romantic feelings for her. Not even if he were ready to be in a relationship again, which he most definitely wasn’t. No, despite all her qualifications, despite being wise and mature beyond her age, hell, probably even beyond his age, she was just a girl.

And he was not the one for her. He could see that clearly, whenever he watched her with other men, younger men. Like Chekov. He could tell that they had a lot in common, a lot of fun together, too. They made a lovely couple, and he really liked Chekov.

He’d learned to ignore, or at least live with the knot forming in his stomach, every time he watched them practice their dancing together, their bodies moving in total sync, Pavel holding her close and touching her in such an intimate way. This ridiculous feeling of jealousy, that he could never quite shake, was completely uncalled for. He had no right to feel that way, no rights regarding her in any respect.

Or was it even jealousy? He couldn’t be sure. Because what bothered him even more than the thought of Hope in someone else’s arms, was that this someone might not be gentle and considerate enough with her. But then, everything was a little different when it came to Hope, wasn't it?

No, he was most definitely not the one for her. But he could be her friend, and he was in the lucky position to protect and mentor her. That had to be enough. That, and the hope that, whoever she’d end up with one day, she’d choose wisely and find someone who’d treat her with the utmost kindness and respect, someone who’d give her all the love and tenderness she needed and deserved.

********************

“Bones?” Kirk’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “Can you try your communicator? I can’t get through to the Enterprise on mine.”

McCoy pulled out his device, a frown on his face and a sense of foreboding in his guts. He couldn’t reach the ship, either. And neither could Peterson, for that matter.

All eyes were on Hope, who was fully focused on tying her communicator into her linguistic tricorder, adjusting the dials this way and that.

“You know what you’re doing?” Kirk asked impatiently. For the third time. Being stranded on a more or less unexplored planet was one thing. Not knowing what was going on with his ship, quite another.

“I certainly do, Sir,” she replied, remarkably calm and not taking her eyes off the display.

Spock would be proud, McCoy thought distractedly.

“And I can tell you two things.”

“Go on!” The captain’s patience was wearing thin.

“Firstly, that the signal we’ve been following has increased enormously, and I can now confirm with absolute certainty that the message is nothing but gibberish.”

“And secondly?”

She hesitated a moment, as if afraid to say it out loud.

“Just tell us, Hope, for heaven’s sake!” Kirk was at the end of his tether.

“Right. The reason we can’t reach the Enterprise is not some interference or shield. The Enterprise is simply not there. She’s gone.”

There was a shocked silence as they all took in the full meaning of her words, McCoy unconsciously taking a step closer to Hope. She seemed incredibly calm.

“Are you sure?” the captain finally broke the silence, and Jenny couldn’t tell whether he was doubting her abilities or simply grasping at straws.

“Positive, Captain,” she replied quietly. “Scotty has taught me some tricks, but above all, I do have a degree in linguistics, of which communications is a rather big part.”

“Of course, you do,” Kirk put an appeasing hand on her shoulder.

Then he looked at McCoy and Peterson.

“There could be a million reasons, let’s not expect the worst. They could be under attack, or have left for an emergency.”

“Or a parallel universe,” McCoy threw in unhelpfully, earning a glare from the captain.

“There will be a perfectly plausible explanation. I’m sure Spock has everything under control. We just need to make sure we’re still here when they come back for us.”

Kirk, never one to lose heart, gave each of his three companions an encouraging look. There was no doubt in his mind that they’d make it out of there safely. They always did.

“Come on, everyone, let’s go find the source of this blasted signal. I have a strong feeling we’re going to get some answers there.”

Chapter 26

Jenny walked behind Peterson, following the narrow trail of his footsteps, her mind racing. Behind her, she could hear snippets of the murmured conversation Kirk had with McCoy, exchanging ideas, discussing the best course of action, drawing on each other’s experience. She’d never realised before, quite how well attuned the two men really were to each other. It was greatly reassuring and made her feel cautiously optimistic in their current situation.

The general atmosphere was tense, but not at all hopeless. Jenny was surprised at how calm she felt in the face of having been abandoned on a strange planet with three men. By rights, the thought should be terrifying, but strangely enough, she wasn’t afraid. Probably because it just didn’t feel real. Yet.

Besides, she was with Captain Kirk, the man who beat all the odds. Surely, he’d find a way out of this one, too. And they had Dr. McCoy. He’d take good care of them all.

She had a sudden vision of the four of them living together in Robinson fashion, makeshift huts, tools and weapons, living on fruits and berries. At least her companions were interesting, decent people with considerable knowledge between them, and lots of stories to tell. It could certainly be worse.

“What are you smiling at?” McCoy was suddenly at her side, gentle eyes searching her face. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, Doctor, I’m all right,” Jenny assured him, feeling like throwing herself in his arms and just staying there forever. “I just had this funny vision of us as savages in grass skirts, collecting roots and berries.”

“Now there’s a prospect,” he chuckled, winking at her.

Then he turned serious again, breaking his stride to put gentle hands on her shoulders and look her straight in the eye.

“You know it won’t come to that, right? Jim and I have been in lots of similar situations and always found our way back home. The Enterprise had a perfectly good reason to disappear, and she will be back. It’s happened before.”

Jenny nodded, touched by his need to comfort and reassure her, when he was surely at least a little scared, too, and found that she actually believed him.

Kirk waited for his friend to finish his little pep talk, before joining them.

“How far to the origin of the signal, Hope?”

“We’re really close, Captain,” Hope looked at her tricorder to check the readings. “Five kilometres as the crow flies.”

“Right, close enough,” the captain murmured pensively, then, feeling the expectant eyes of his crew on him, added, “I don’t know, something just doesn’t feel right. I mean, who would go to the trouble of setting up a signal that sends out nothing but gibberish?”

“A trap?” volunteered Peterson.

Kirk look at him, nodding slowly. “My thoughts exactly. But who? And why?”

“You mean, why would anyone lure us here, on an uninhabited planet of no interest?” McCoy wondered.

“Well, only one way to find out!” Kirk clapped his hands and got going again.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” McCoy sighed, following right behind the captain.

********************

They walked in silence for a while, closely watching their surroundings, ready to draw their weapons at the first sign of danger. As the wind picked up and the temperature dropped, it got harder to keep up their pace.

Fighting their way through the increasing storm, McCoy saw Hope being almost lifted off the ground with every gust, thrown back every other step. He hurried to her side and resolutely grabbed her by the hand, allowing no argument, and pulled her along. But this time, she didn’t even hesitate and, gratefully accepting his help, let him walk right in front of her to shelter her from the full impact of the storm.

Less than ten minutes later, the wind had ebbed away again.

“Thank God,” Hope laughed, shaking her hair out and trying to tame it back into a knot. “It’s even harder to walk, when you can’t see!”

Kirk watched the doctor staring at Hope for a moment, mesmerised, before pulling a little box from his medikit and handing her her eye medication.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she smiled, taking the box from him. “I was actually talking about the hair in my face, but I’d really appreciate a little of the medication right now. When we get to the source, I’ll want all my senses operating at full capacity.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” McCoy nodded, and as they walked on, tried to cautiously broach the subject of accepting help with her. “And I’m really proud of you, Hope, for letting me help you through the storm and not putting up a fight today.”

“I guess, I’m making progress, accepting that I’m not the perfect officer, then,” she snorted, visibly embarrassed.

The doctor was just about to reply, when Kirk, having overheard the last of their conversation, beat him to it.

“There is no such thing as a perfect officer, Hope,” he said emphatically. “The important thing is to be part of a team. That means doing your best, of course, but it also includes accepting help from the others. Everybody has their weaknesses, and knowing each other’s makes a good team. Hiding your inefficiencies could put yourself and your team in danger, because, if the others don't realise you're in trouble and trust you to do what you're expected to do, they may not be able to compensate quickly enough."

Kirk and McCoy exchanged a quick glance, knowing only too well that both of them, just like Spock or Scotty, had more than once hidden their fears in order to save their friends' lives. But then, that was the difference between high ranking officers and young, less experienced crew members.

Hope lowered her head self-consciously, murmuring, "I'm sorry, Sir. I just didn't want to be a hindrance."

McCoy could see Hope feeling she’d been put firmly in her place, and shot Kirk an angry look.

"I’m sorry, I didn't mean this to sound reproachful,” the captain relented. “I actually wanted you to realise that you don't have to pretend to be stronger or better than you are. Just be yourself - you're perfectly all right. And you'll become even better with experience.”

Their conversation was cut short, when Peterson pointed out fast approaching rainclouds, and they ran for shelter under the branches of one of the smaller trees, just as the first raindrops fell.

“Let’s hope that’ll be over quickly, too!” Hope exclaimed, thinking that their snuggling up under that toadstool only yesterday seemed like ages ago.

There were no hailstones today, but the snow that followed was much heavier and covered everything within minutes, the ground underneath frozen and slippery, the temperature dropping uncomfortably.

Not wasting a single word on it, the little group huddled together for warmth, and as soon as they could see their hands in front of their faces again, continued on their way, hoping to get out of the cold again soon.

Less than one kilometre, Jenny thought as they made their way across the slippery ground, anticipation intermingling with dread.

And then, everything happened so fast.

An enormous, falling branch hit Peterson hard on the head, sending him crashing to his knees, before he suddenly vanished through a hole in the ground. He’d obviously stepped on a thin layer of ice covering some kind of lake or pond.

In a flash, Kirk threw himself after Peterson, but when the ice cracked under his weight, McCoy was just in time to pull him back, before the captain fell through the ice, too.

“I can do it!” Hope shouted, dropping to the ground, flat on her stomach, slowly and carefully crawling towards the edge of the hole. Now it was Kirk’s turn to pull back a frantic McCoy.

The captain and his CMO were holding their breath, as they watched Hope reach the edge and plunge her arms, and then her head into the ice-cold water looking for Peterson.

"Don’t worry, Bones, she's a tough one, she’s going to make it,” Kirk tried to calm down his friend as much as himself.

“She’s just pretending, she’s not that tough at all, and you know that very well!" McCoy muttered under his breath, holding on tight to Kirk’s arm in order to restrain himself from going after Hope, not taking his eyes off her for a second.

“Trust me. She wants to be a good officer, and being prepared to risk her life for others, certainly makes her one.”

Just when McCoy thought his heart couldn’t take the strain any longer, he saw Hope come back up for air, holding on to a red-sleeved arm, trying hard to pull an unconscious Peterson back onto the ice.

And for what he thought were the longest moments of his life, he watched her struggle and strive, and finally manage to pull the much bigger man out of the water and then drag him, excruciatingly slowly, back to safety.

Immediately dropping to his knees beside Peterson, the doctor looked at Kirk and indicated Hope with his head, trusting the captain to take care of the exhausted, shivering young woman.

“Thank you for saving Peterson’s life,” the captain said with heartfelt gratitude, as he used his sleeves to rub her hair dry and ran his hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm her up. “I am awfully proud of you.”

When McCoy had cleaned and closed the gash in Peterson’s head and made sure there were no further injuries, especially to his spine, or internal bleeding, he quickly got up to check on Hope, his heart aching as he saw her standing there, so frail and delicate, shivering as the captain rapidly rubbed his hands up and down her arms and back.

Kirk let go of her, letting the doctor take over, and McCoy just had to pull her close for a moment, overwhelmed by the relief of seeing her unharmed.

“Silly girl! Don’t you ever do that to me again,” he murmured affectionately in her ear, and it sounded almost like a sob. “I’ve been worried sick. Next time you want to impress the captain, find something less dangerous to do, please!”

Hope, still trembling, looked up at him fondly, and he saw a familiar glint in her eye.

“All this just to prove to you that being underweight has its advantages, after all,” she chuckled.

McCoy shook his head, exasperated, and then, hearing her teeth clattering looked over at Kirk.

“We’ll have to get them to a warmer place, Jim. And quickly, if we want Peterson to even have a chance.”

So, carrying the still unconscious Peterson between them, Kirk and McCoy followed Hope, tricorder in hand, leading the way to the source of the signal.

Luckily, it had stopped snowing, but the temperature was still low, and not a hint of sun in the sky. Jenny was just wondering where to find a warm place, when she suddenly spotted a bunker in the midst of all the greenery.

“Look, Captain!” she called out, but her companions had already spotted the bunker, too.

“Damn! How did a man-made building end up here?” Kirk cursed, while McCoy headed straight for the entrance.

“Stop, Bones!” Kirk hissed. “We can’t just go in there! We have no idea how it got here, or who or what to expect in there!”

“I don’t care, Jim!” the doctor snapped back. “If we don’t get Peterson out of the cold this very instant, we’re going to lose him. And Hope needs to warm up soon, too, or whatever we’ll find or not find in there, won’t matter anymore.”

Jim could see the anguish in his friend’s eyes, and relented.

“All right, Bones. But at least let me go in first and secure the place.”

Bones nodded, shifting Peterson’s weight so that Kirk could step away, grateful for Hope instantly taking the captain’s place, and a minute later, they were inside the windowless building, grateful to be out of the icy wind.

Hope was sitting on the floor with Peterson’s head cradled in her lap, holding a flashlight while McCoy gave him a heavy sedative and ran his tricorder thoroughly over the security officer’s body. And Kirk searched the apparently empty room for any clues to what they were up against.

Chapter 27

On the Enterprise, Spock and Uhura were listening intently to Klingon communication channels, as they had done incessantly for the past five hours.

With the riddle of the mysterious signal still unsolved, Uhura hadn’t been able to sleep, and had been working all through the night, trying to determine the source or find a code that would finally give the message some meaning.

She hadn’t succeeded in either, but in the early morning hours had picked up on inter Klingon communications instead. Being quite the expert on decoding Klingon channels, she’d soon been able to listen in on more than just snippets, and, putting two and two together, had run to the bridge, where she was sure to find Spock.

The First Officer had listened attentively, as she’d told him that there was obviously a rumour about a new human super weapon going round the Klingon Empire. A human named Jennifer Hope, no less. Somehow word had got out that Hope, to whose Starfleet file there might or might not exist a sealed supplement, had been assigned to the Enterprise on what they mistakenly thought was a secret mission.

Always trying to stay ahead of the Federation, the Klingons had come up with a plan to not only get rid of Hope before she could become a danger to the Empire, but to get rid of the greatly feared and unpopular Captain Kirk at the same time.

Obviously, the Klingons knew about the dangers that the planet’s flora held, and counted on whoever was setting foot on the surface to be killed within the first couple of hours. Choosing a remote, insignificant planet and using a seemingly harmless linguistic mystery as bait to ensure Hope’s participation, had been a stroke of genius, Spock had to admit.

It was only when he heard that, apparently, a Klingon ship was currently on its way to check if the Enterprise was still in orbit, that he’d been galvanised into action.

With the transporters still down, there was no way of bringing the landing party back aboard safely in time. So, Spock decided on a bold move that would have made Kirk proud.

Not even risking to open a channel to inform the captain, he had Uhura break off all communication between them and the landing party, and Sulu warp out of orbit immediately, certain that this would trick the Klingons into believing they had everybody safely back aboard already. Surely, they wouldn’t assume the Enterprise left orbit without their captain, abandoning him on a remote and dangerous planet.

What Spock had failed to take into account, however, as he learned now, listening to the ongoing communications between the nearby Klingon ship and some Klingon base, was that they also had a plan B in place, in case the planet’s flora failed to do its part.

They seemed to have built some sort of trap around the source of their fabricated signal, armed with explosives that could be activated remotely.

As the last piece of information sank in, Uhura looked at Spock, aghast, but the First Officer was already having Chekov set course back to the planet, Warp 8, then reminded Scotty that his priority was to have the transporters fully functional on arrival, and finally ordered Sulu to get the Galileo ready as backup, just in case.

********************

Having found no clues whatsoever, unable to determine even what strange material the bunker was built from, Kirk went back to the door. Certain that the daily hour of winter should be over by now, he wanted to have a closer look around outside.

He soon found, however, that the door, which the storm had slammed shut right behind them, didn’t open from the inside. They were locked in. Quelling the rising panic in his chest at the realisation, he first tried to kick it open, then used his phaser on it. But the door wouldn’t budge.

Kirk tried to burn a hole through it, then through the wall and even through the ceiling with his phaser. To no avail, since the phaser didn’t have the slightest impact on the material, even though it seemed to be permeable to air. He could definitely feel a breeze coming through the walls. At least, they wouldn’t suffocate in here.

Wanting McCoy and Hope to focus on Peterson and not worry them even more, Kirk turned around with a confident smile on his face.

“Only a matter of time until I’ve figured this out,” he said more to himself than to the others, earning him a trusting look from Hope and a rather sceptical one from the doctor.

Having suffered a severe concussion, Peterson was fading in and out of consciousness, and McCoy kept a close watch on his readings, hoping to God that he wouldn’t have to do any kind of field surgery with nothing but his medikit at hand, and praying that the Enterprise would just pop up out of nowhere, providing him with all the comforts of his well-equipped sickbay. He even vowed to never, ever again complain about the shortcomings of the ship’s sickbay, if only he could be back there again.

Looking at Hope, who made every effort to make Peterson comfortable, stroking his face and softly singing to him, the doctor knew they just had to get back to the Enterprise. This extraordinary young woman deserved so much better than going missing on her first assignment. There was so much potential in her. The brilliance, the resourcefulness, the creativity, the kindness, the love, just couldn’t be lost to the world. Not like this. Not, when they didn’t even know the reason.

Jenny looked down at Peterson’s pale face. She hadn’t known him very well before this assignment. But they had talked quite a bit during their hike, and she’d found him to be a really bright guy with very high expectations in life. She knew him in the best of hands with Dr. McCoy, of course, quite sure that his life was not in danger any longer. But what would happen to him, if they didn’t get back to the Enterprise? What would happen to all of them? Would this be the end? She’d come such a long way. And just for this?

Kirk was still relentlessly examining the room, scanning and patting down every inch of the walls, floor and ceiling to find some way to escape. He was worried about Peterson. About Hope and McCoy, too. But what was really driving him mad was the uncertainty of his ship’s fate. Where had they gone? Why hadn’t they informed him? Were they even still alive?

Feeling completely helpless, he kicked the floor hard in frustration, and suddenly heard the faintest echo, a sign that there was a hollow space underneath where he stood. Getting down on his knees, he groped around, hoping his fingers would find some sort of gap or crack, any proof that there was a door, an opening. When he didn’t have any luck, he tried his phaser again, and was immensely relieved, when he managed to burn a hole, and finally a bigger opening in the floor, revealing what seemed to be a narrow air shaft leading under the wall and outside or into another room.

McCoy was sitting on the floor next to Hope, her head resting on his shoulder, exhaustion finally having got the better of her, when Kirk gave them the good news. The captain had cleared the opening to an air shaft, which was, unfortunately, too narrow for him to squeeze through. Now he was searching their equipment for anything he could attach his tricorder to, in order to find out where the tunnel was leading.

“I could try,” Hope offered, suddenly wide awake again. “Maybe I can fit through?”

“Certainly not!” McCoy was appalled. “One heroic deed per day is definitely enough. We have no idea where this tunnel leads, how long it is, or what awaits on the other side.”

“Would you rather stay locked up in here?” Hope asked softly, then turned to Kirk, who didn’t look very happy with the idea, either.

“Please, Captain, let me try. I really want to get out of this place.”

Kirk nodded slowly, shrugging apologetically at McCoy.

“Sorry, Bones, but Hope is right. We can’t just sit around here, doing nothing.”

Jenny got up, gently turning Peterson over to McCoy, glad for the chance to stretch her tingling legs. But before she could follow the captain to the air shaft, the doctor grabbed her hand and pulled her back down towards him.

“Be safe!” he whispered, and she saw his eyes well up as he looked at her imploringly, his other hand softly caressing her hair and her face.

Just two little words, but seeing how much he cared gave her the courage she needed.

“Don’t worry, Doctor,” she smiled at him reassuringly. “I’ll be back in a jiffy!”

And surprising herself, she gave him an impulsive peck on the cheek, before turning away again, the ghost of his stubble still lingering on her lips as she squeezed through the narrow opening and slowly crawled through the tunnel, fighting the slightly claustrophobic feeling.

Gazing after her, McCoy distractedly touched his cheek, where Hope’s lips had just brushed it. Letting go of her hand had been a real physical challenge. He needed her here, safely by his side, where he could protect her. He would certainly never forgive himself, or Jim for that matter, if something happened to her now.

And what a great job of protecting her you’ve done so far, Leonard! he thought sadly, the image of Hope almost being pulled into the water after Peterson still fresh in his mind.

Was he proud of her? Of course, he was! She was awesome. But the thought of something happening to her was simply unbearable.

Their cosy evening chats over coffee seemed like ages ago, and he’d give anything to see her dance with Chekov or sing with Uhura again. The thought struck him that Jim nearly hadn’t let him come on this mission, and he was filled with a sudden sense of gratitude, to fate, or whoever else had changed the captain’s mind at the last minute.

********************

Hardly able to move in the narrow tunnel, Jenny was making slow progress, Kirk’s encouraging words the only thing to keep her from panicking. Luckily, the air shaft was just connecting the room they’d been in to another, smaller one behind the wall, and once she’d managed to push open the flap at the other end, and crawled out, she could breathe easy again.

Even though she knew he couldn’t come to her rescue, should she need help, she was glad that the captain was still within earshot, feeling less alone talking to him directly than on the communicator.

Taking in the small room, that was just as empty as the other one, the only thing that stood out was a sort of small device or computer, wires all over, leading in all directions, reminding her a little of the bombs found in almost every classic spy movie.

She froze.

“What is it, Hope?” Kirks concerned voice sounded from the air shaft.

“I think it’s some kind of explosive device, Captain,” she tried to report as calmly as possible.

There was a short silence, then Kirk asked, “Anything specific? Anything you can find out about its origin or how it works?”

Jenny circled the device slowly, careful not to touch it, and started to give a running commentary as she moved along.

“It doesn’t seem to be activated,” she observed, listening closely. “No lights, no noise, not even a hum. And it appears to be rather new. Very clean, anyway.”

Then she saw it, the tiniest plate, almost hidden by a bunch of wires. Angling the flashlight so she could see what was written on the plate, she gasped.

“Captain,” she swallowed hard, “it’s Klingon.”

“All right,” Kirk replied after a moment. “Save everything to your tricorder, and come back now.”

Jenny didn’t have to be told twice, even though she shuddered at the thought of having to crawl through that tunnel again, and made her way back in record time.

The first thing she saw, after the captain had pulled her out, were McCoy’s eyes lighting up, the immense relief written in his face, just like the worry had been earlier, and she felt his affection enwrapping her like a soft, warm blanket.

Just as Kirk started to wonder out loud, what in heaven’s name the Klingons had to do with anything, his communicator started to beep.

They all just stared at it in disbelief for a second, before the captain flipped it open and Spock’s beautiful voice filled the room.

Not even listening to what he was saying, Jenny first flung her arms around Kirk’s neck, squeezing him tight in a brief hug, then skipped over to where McCoy was sitting, and dropping to her knees, hugged him so tightly, he could hardly breathe.

Hugging her back and laughing with her, McCoy wanted nothing more than to hold her and never let go. But the doctor in him, of course, knew that Peterson had to be his priority right now. So, when Spock told them that two of the transporters were fully functional again, and asked them to return to the Enterprise immediately, he was more than happy to have Scotty beam him and a half-conscious Peterson up.

His happiness was brought to a sudden end, when the Chief Engineer cursed loudly on their arrival, and he could hear Spock tell the captain that, unfortunately, the transporter had just broken down again.

Feeling like the rug had been pulled from under his feet, McCoy had to draw on every ounce of professionalism he had, to stay focused on Peterson’s treatment, while his heart was filled with dismay at having left Hope behind.

Chapter 28

Hurrying along as Peterson was rushed to sickbay, McCoy felt sick to his stomach, his loathing of transporters at an all-time high. And as soon as the security officer was settled safely in sickbay and could be entrusted into Chapel’s care, the doctor left for the bridge to find out what was happening.

He arrived just in time to hear Spock tell the captain that it was imperative for him and Hope to either find a way to get out of that bunker, or defuse the device. Either way, they needed to hurry, since the Klingon ship was estimated to reach orbit in 1.8 hours.

Exchanging worried glances with Uhura, the doctor listened tensely, as Kirk discussed this with Hope and, for lack of escape routes, agreed to her going back through the air-shaft once more, in order to try and defuse the bomb.

“Are you insane?” McCoy exploded. “Hope is not a bomb disposal expert!”

Spock turned around and calmly looked at the doctor.

“I will guide her through every step, of course,” he said, then added almost as an afterthought, “Mr. Sulu is taking the Galileo to pick up Captain Kirk and Dr. Hope, Doctor. He is leaving in 7.3 minutes. I recommend you accompany him.”

McCoy didn’t care whether it was just to get him off the bridge, or because Spock thought his medical services might actually be needed. He gratefully grabbed the chance to have a part in getting the two of them home. And as he hurriedly left for the shuttle bay, picking up his medikit on the way, he was pretty convinced to have seen concern in the otherwise impassive Vulcan face, too.

With McCoy out of the way, Spock returned his full attention to Kirk and the matter at hand. He had to shield himself more than usual from the overflowing emotions of the bridge crew, sensing extreme distress, especially coming from Uhura and Chekov, his sensitivity probably heightened by his own burgeoning reservations.

Chekov was almost frozen with fear, working hard to keep his mind on his duties as navigator, while listening to Spock first talking to the captain, then to Jenny. He’d seen the terror in McCoy’s face, and although he didn’t have a clear picture of what had happened on the planet yet, he knew that Peterson had returned severely wounded, and that Jenny and Kirk were in immediate danger.

Jenny, his kind and sweet Jenny, having to defuse a bomb. It didn’t bear thinking about.

Hanging on every word that was exchanged between Spock and the two remaining members of the landing party, he could hear Kirk and Jenny having another hushed discussion about whether she should really take the risk, and pictured his brave friend singlehandedly disarming an unknown Klingon weapon.

********************

In the bunker, Kirk tried to stay calm, wanting to radiate nothing but confidence, as he gently rested his hands on Hope’s shoulders and gazed deeply into her eyes.

“Be careful, Hope,” he said softly, “You’ve proven yourself an impressive Starfleet officer these past two days. I couldn’t be prouder. And I have complete faith in you getting us out of here.”

Hope smiled up at him, touched by his praise and faith in her.

“I can do this, Captain,” she said in a steady voice, then turned around determinedly and slid into the tunnel.

Kirk stared after her, wishing it would be him rather than her, facing the danger behind the wall, and trying not to think about what McCoy must be going through right now. Knowing him, the poor doctor was certainly overcome with guilt at having left his friends behind.

When Hope had reached the other side, Spock had her carefully check the whole room for any other way to escape, wanting to leave the defusing of the bomb as their last resort. But when she was positive that there was no other exit, he knew there could be no further delay.

Before he let her touch any of the wires, however, Kirk heard Spock go through a couple of meditation exercises with Hope. They’d obviously done these exercises before, and Kirk was touched by his first officer’s thoughtfulness.

After taking one last deep breath, Hope started on her task. With Spock monitoring her every move via tricorder, she followed his directions to the letter, untangling, bending and cutting wires with the nimble fingers of a keyboard player. Even so, it took her longer than Spock had calculated, and if he’d been prone to nervousness, he might certainly have begun to feel that way.

Hope was so focused on her task, that she’d almost failed to notice a rectangular shape in the far wall starting to glow, then open like a door. It was only the sudden cool breeze that made her look up in surprise.

“Take your hands slowly off the wires,” she heard Spock say, audibly struggling to stay calm. “Get out at once, see if you can free the captain, and then run as fast and as far as you can. It appears the Klingons have joined us and are now activating their device.”

Fighting the urge to simply freak out and be done with it, Jenny grabbed her tricorder and sprinted through the opening. She ran around the building to the door through which they’d initially entered, and found it opening easily.

The captain was out in a flash, momentarily squinting against the sun as he mouthed a quick ‘Thank you’, then, breaking into a run, grabbed her by the hand and pulled her along.

They were less than a minute away, when they heard, and felt, the explosion behind them, throwing them to the ground. Scrambling to his feet as fast as he could, Kirk pulled Hope up with him and told her to just keep running.

The explosion had started a fire that seemed to be spreading extremely fast, setting off a number of smaller explosions all around the area. Not breaking his stride, Kirk pulled out his communicator.

“Spock! We got away, but we need to keep moving,” he panted. “The fire’s spreading fast. Any chance for a beam-up?”

“I’m sorry, no, Sir,” came the instant reply, and the captain could clearly hear the relief of knowing they made it out in Spock’s voice. “But Mr. Sulu and Dr. McCoy have taken the Galileo and are already close. They are scheduled to land in 20 minutes. Keep going in this direction, I’ll give them your coordinates.”

Looking back and seeing the flames and smoke approaching fast, Kirk shouted at Hope to pick up speed. He could see she was doing her best already, but he feared it was just not good enough. Then, distracted only for a second by the crackling flames gaining on them, she tripped and fell, her boot stuck under a root, and the captain could see her leg twisted at an awkward angle.

He hurried to her side, trying to help her up, but her agonised cry as she fell back to the ground told him that she was badly hurt. Not thinking twice, he removed her leg from under the root, trying not to look at her tear streaked face, scrunched up in pain, as he did so. Then he hoisted her inelegantly over his shoulder and set off running again.

Kirk tried to ignore the burning ache in his chest, focusing on keeping ahead of the flames, but after a few minutes, he had to stop and set her down for a moment. Hope was certainly anything but heavy, but still quite a weight to carry, if you were running for your life.

Seeing that the captain had reached his limits, Jenny pleaded with him to continue without her.

Maybe this was it, she thought, maybe she’d beaten death once too often.

“Please, go, Captain!” she cried. “I’m just slowing you down. You need to get back to the Enterprise!”

Shaking his head vehemently, Kirk bent down to pick her up again, and she realised that he was never going to just leave her there. So she did the only thing she could do. She reached for his hand to pull herself up, and started to hobble as best she could, fear and shock pushing her beyond her limits.

Drawing on everything she’d ever learned from Spock regarding self-control, she managed to convince the captain that she was good to run on her own again. And whispering Dr. McCoy’s name like a mantra, visualising his kind face as he treated her injured leg, she somehow made her way to the shuttle, not quite sure if the Sulu and McCoy she saw there were real or just figments of her imagination.

********************

When Spock informed Sulu and McCoy about the circumstances of Kirk and Hope’s escape, McCoy nearly had a heart-attack, not knowing if he was dying from fright or relief.

“My God, I should never have left without them!” he lamented, not even listening to Spock pointing out that his wish was illogical, since he couldn’t have helped them, anyway.

Sulu landed the Galileo at the coordinates the First Officer had given them, and McCoy could have cried with happiness, when he spotted Kirk and Hope come racing towards the shuttle.

Panting heavily, her face twisted in pain, Hope looked at him strangely as she reached for his outstretched hand and let him pull her up into the shuttle. The moment she was inside, she fell into his arms and promptly passed out, taking him completely by surprise, once again.

Cradling her limp form in his arms, he carried her further inside, throwing Kirk a questioning glance over his shoulder. The captain, who’d been hauled in by Sulu right behind Hope, shouted, “It’s her right leg, Bones,” then joined Sulu in the cockpit for immediate take-off.

McCoy eased her gently into a seat, reclining it as far as it would go. He was about to give her a stimulant to wake her up, but thought better of it and carefully pried the boot off her right leg. What he saw there made him wince. This ankle was not just broken but shattered. He switched the hypo from stimulant to heavy sedative and got to work immediately. Beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he concentrated on his bone knitter, his mood alternated between rage with Jim, admiration for Hope‘s toughness and frustration with her silly recklessness. As soon as the shuttle was safely on its way, Kirk left Sulu to it and joined McCoy at the back of the shuttle where the doctor was working on a still unconscious Hope’s ankle, muttering under his breath, a fierce look on his face.

When the captain approached, McCoy turned on him with accusing eyes.

“What happened, Jim?” he ranted. “How could you let her run on a broken ankle? How did she even manage to? No wonder she passed out from the pain. I can’t even begin to imagine how much it must have hurt.”

Kirk felt terrible, even without McCoy shouting at him. He should have realised the pain she was in. He should have insisted on carrying her.

“I did carry her for quite a bit,” he tried to explain quietly. “But we were going too slow, and she convinced me that she was all right running on her own, again. I’m not a doctor, Bones, and we’d probably both have died in the flames. You can’t outrun fire carrying someone even as light as Hope.”

“But you can, of course, run on a shattered ankle,” the doctor grumbled surlily, relenting a little when he saw Jim tenderly brush Hope’s hair from her face, looking genuinely remorseful.

When Jenny came to, she felt two things: pain and gentle hands combing through her hair and squeezing her shoulder. She opened her eyes and was surprised to see the captain’s worried face smiling down on her instead of the doctor’s.

“I‘m so sorry, Hope,” he said guiltily, “if I’d known how seriously injured you were, I’d never have allowed you to run.”

“There was no other way, Captain,” she whispered, her voice still hoarse from the smoke. “You wouldn’t have left me behind, and we’d both be dead now.”

Then she swallowed hard, worried, as Kirk’s words about her being seriously injured sank in.

“How serious are my injuries, anyway?” she asked hesitantly.

But the captain didn’t get a chance to answer, as a familiar grumpy voice told him to stop worrying his patient, and a disgruntled McCoy shoved him out of the way. Kirk’s friendly face was replaced by the reassuringly disapproving one of Dr. McCoy, who promptly started to rant at her.

“How could you do this to yourself? Torturing your ankle like that? Don’t you know there’s a reason why we feel pain? To stop us from hurting ourselves even more when we’re already injured? And with your bone material, too! You really should have known better!”

Jenny closed her eyes and let his words wash over her, taking comfort in the knowledge that the doctor would never rant at a patient like that, if it were really serious. He was just venting, pouring out all the pent-up fears and worries she’d caused him.

When he was done, she opened her eyes again, smiling up at him apologetically.

“You fixed my ankle, I take it?”

“Well,” he admitted grudgingly, “it took all of my surgical skills and then some, and we’ll still have to make improvements when we get to sickbay, but basically, yes, your ankle will be fine.”

“With time,” he added after a moment, emphasising those last two words.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she smiled fondly, feeling wonderfully cared for and happy despite the pain.

McCoy sat down in the seat next to her and studied her face for a minute.

“Torturing your ankle like that!” he frowned, shaking his head. “Has it never occurred to you that I might not be able to fix it?”

Jenny pretended to think for a second or two, then grinned widely at him.

“No, Doctor, it hasn’t.”

“You’re as bad as Jim,” he grumbled, sighing exaggeratedly, his eyes betraying the strong affection he felt for both her and the captain.

Chapter 29

When they’d transferred Hope from the shuttle to sickbay, and he was finally satisfied with his work on her ankle, McCoy gave her a stronger sedative to ease the pain and let her rest.

Thank god for biobeds, he thought, as she kept trying to play down the pain that was so clearly visible from the readings above her head.

Watching her features slowly relax as the sedative took effect, he thought what an admirable, brave young woman she was. Trying to imagine what pain running all the way to the Galileo must have caused her, made him shudder. It had certainly done some major damage to her nerves and sinews and given him and his bone knitter a run for their credits.

He was relieved to see Hope slipping further into restful drowsiness, her eyes becoming more unfocused, and her breathing slowing down.

“So lucky, living on borrowed time,” she mumbled sleepily.

Or at least that’s what he heard.

“Sorry, what was that, my dear?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

But she’d already dozed off.

Shaking his head fondly, he gently brushed a strand of sweaty, sooty hair from her forehead. She’d want to clean up properly, when she woke up again. And so might he, for that matter. With everything going on, he hadn’t had a minute to shower or change since he’d beamed up with Peterson. He’d do that as soon as he was sure that Hope was fast asleep and would be for some time.

Feeling a wave of affection washing over him, he let his hand linger a little on her cheek, smiling when she nestled comfortably into his touch.

“Sleep tight, love,” he whispered softly.

And just as he turned to leave, she murmured something that sounded suspiciously like, “Love you, too!”

So typically Hope. So sweet, it put a wide grin on his face while his heart skipped a beat. He was just glad no one else was close enough to overhear. He’d never hear the end of it, and she’d be mortified if she ever found out what she’d just said in her sleep.

Unable to leave her side just yet, McCoy sat down on the edge of her bed, tenderly caressing her face. But this time, she didn’t lean into his touch. She was truly out cold. And suddenly he realised that he missed it. That he wanted it, needed it, her response to his touch.

Uh oh, he thought, pulling his hand away quickly, tread carefully there, Leonard, there’s a very fine line between caring for a patient, a friend even, and ... this, whatever this is. But you definitely don’t want to cross that line.

He left sickbay without another glance at Hope, trying to think of anything but her. But, of course, every other thought was soon replaced again by the image of her trusting face and the memory of her small form snuggled so unreservedly into his arms as he carried her out of the shuttle.

********************

Jenny woke up to a bustling crowd around her bed, making her smile even before she was quite awake. There were Uhura and Chekov, and the guys from the band, all chatting animatedly, obviously having a good time.

Somewhere further away, she could hear McCoy grumbling.

“This is still sickbay!” he blustered. “If you lot can’t behave, I’ll have you removed!”

Everyone just laughed, confident that he wouldn’t do so, and Jenny couldn’t help joining in.

Hearing her chuckle, there was a collective intake of breath as all eyes turned on her. Jenny was overwhelmed by all the affection she felt coming her way.

Uhura was the first to spring into action. Bending down to press a smacking kiss on her cheek and envelop her in a bear hug, she squeezed her so tightly that Jenny let out a squeak.

“Oh don’t be a wuss!” Uhura laughed, “I’m nowhere near your leg, and there’s nothing else wrong with you, is there?”

Chekov was next. Unlike Uhura, he bent down carefully, pecking her lightly on the cheek, treating her as if she were made of glass, and Jenny couldn’t resist reaching up to tousle his full shock of hair.

“Missed me?” she asked no one in particular.

“You scared the shit out of us, Jen!” Ben, their lead guitarist blurted out, earning a withering look from Uhura.

“Don’t mind him, love,” she turned back to Jenny. “Maybe when he grows up, he’ll remember his manners.”

Jenny looked around. She’d missed that. The easy banter with her friends. Even though she’d only been gone for a couple of days.

A big, grateful smile spread across her face as she realised that she’d found a new home, a new family on the Enterprise. And when she spotted McCoy through the doorway and their eyes met, she had a feeling he might just have thought the same thing.

********************

McCoy enjoyed having her in sickbay, where he could keep a close eye on her, immensely. After the recent events, he felt he deserved a break from the constant worrying. And seeing her happily surrounded by her friends warmed his heart. Exactly what she needed. Although, being as popular as she was, the constant stream of visitors never stopped, and he had to intervene sometimes. She was still on painkillers and needed to rest.

Jenny was amazed by how many people came to see her, enjoying the visits that made her days confined to bed seem to go faster. But lovely as everyone was, sometimes she just wanted to sleep and was grateful that McCoy turned her visitors away, when it got too much for her. He knew that she didn’t have the heart to do it herself. One of the many little things he did for her, she thought affectionately.

Thinking of McCoy made her smile. He seemed to spend even more time than usual in sickbay now, which she’d noticed with a mixture of amusement and gratitude. He had no idea, of course, how much his care meant to her. And sometimes, she felt sorry for him being such a worrywart, since he was never able to relax. But knowing that he cared so much, that he was always looking out for her, filled her with a blissful sense of security, she’d never dreamed of finding.

Like right now, late into Beta shift, when she saw him coming in, carrying two mugs of coffee. Having decided that sickbay was as good a place as any to have coffee, the doctor had suggested they resume their evening routine, and Jenny enjoyed the continuation of their cosy chats immensely.

Setting the mugs down on her bedside table, he searched her face in this kind but earnest way that was so typical of him, while gently helping her to a comfortable position.

“Beetroot on your mind?” he asked softly, his face full of compassion.

“How did you know?” she asked, genuinely surprised.

The doctor just smiled.

“I’m a mind reader.”

“Sure,” Jenny laughed, feeling a little uneasy. But maybe that was exactly what he wanted. He was a pretty good psychologist. She knew that he would bring up her ‘troubles’ again, too, sometime, and just hoped that it would be later rather than sooner.

“Maybe you’re not as unfathomable as you think you are,” he went on, his twinkling eyes never leaving her face. “I’ve known you for a while now, Hope. And just as I can see when you’re in pain, I can see when something is bothering you. You’re usually such a cheerful person, it’s not difficult to spot the difference when you’re not.”

“Can’t fool you, can I?” she asked, hoping to sound flirtatious rather than worried.

McCoy just tilted his head a little to the side and shrugged.

Damn, if he didn’t know how to coax someone into opening up.

Chapter 30

Hope’s ankle was healing very slowly, which she bore with poorly concealed impatience, but which was to be expected, as McCoy kept reminding her, considering her bone structure.

At least Hope never lacked entertainment, as visitors kept coming and going at all times. Some coming just to keep her company, others coming for a talk with the ‘agony aunt‘, as the doctor often affectionately called her. They kept her busy, and she obviously didn’t mind. And neither did he, as long as she got enough rest as well.

“You’re certainly my most popular patient,” McCoy smiled, pleased to see her returning to her happy, untroubled self a little more with every day.

“How can you even walk on those tiny feet of yours?” the doctor joked, standing at the foot of her bed, gently checking her ankle and watching her face intently for signs of pain as he carefully tilted her foot this way and that.

Then he put on a stern face, and Jenny knew she was in for another lecture.

“You’ll want to be more careful in the future, my dear. If you torture your ankle like that again, next time, I might not be able to fix it,” he grumbled good-naturedly, then added with a wry grin,” At least your nail polish hardly got scratched.”

“Thank God for small mercies!” Jenny laughed, McCoy’s sense of humour never failing to cheer her up, and thinking how much she enjoyed the delicate touch of his hands on her foot.

********************

Hope’s next visitor was a very subdued Scotty, gingerly slinking into her room, then, after the slightest hesitation, surprising her with a brief but very tight hug.

“Ach, lassie,” he sighed, “I’m so sorry I put you through all of this! I’d have come to see you sooner, too, but that bloody excuse for a transporter just wouldn’t give me a break.”

“Don’t apologise, Scotty,” Hope smiled at the dismayed man. “It’s hardly your fault! You did everything you could. You always do.”

Shrugging helplessly, Scotty smiled at her apologetically.

“If there ever was a time for me to pull off a miracle, it would surely have been when the Enterprise’s queen of hearts was in danger.”

“Enough already!” Hope laughed, blushing a little and slapping Scotty’s arm playfully.

“Seriously, lassie,” the chief engineer went on, “I was dying a little every time I had to give you lot the bad news of yet another problem with the transporter. Turns out Spock’s blasted rock left little souvenirs all over the ship when it exploded. You never know where the next one will pop up. Spock and my lads are still trying to figure it all out.”

“I won’t keep you long, then, Scotty,” Hope smiled, sensing his restlessness. “Thanks for coming by! Now get back to your lads. I feel a lot safer knowing that you’re taking care of the ship.”

*********************

“How’s my favourite human super weapon?” Uhura bounced on the edge of Jenny’s bed.

“Almost as good as new,” Jenny beamed at her bubbly friend, chuckling at yet another one of the strange terms of endearment Uhura always came up with. “The doctor says, I can go back to my quarters by the end of next week.”

Uhura didn’t miss a certain lack of enthusiasm at the prospect, questioning, not for the first time, Jenny’s true feelings for McCoy. But right now, there was a more pressing mystery on her mind.

“Sounds great, sugar! And now I want to know everything about the real Jennifer Hope.”

“What do you mean?” Jenny frowned, not sure where this was going.

“No need to be coy, darling, this is just between us,” Uhura assured her with a conspiratorial wink. “That’s why I didn’t bring any of the gang! You can tell me, I’m your friend, and I’m just dying to know!”

“Know what exactly?” Jenny was getting really confused and a little worried now.

“About you being a human super weapon, silly!” Uhura exclaimed, getting impatient.

“A what? I thought this was just another of your weird nicknames for me.”

“You mean you don’t have a secret sealed Starfleet file?”

“What? You tell me, since you seem to know so much about me, anyway! Or ask Starfleet, I’m sure they’ll be happy to help you out.”

Jenny was getting a little annoyed now. She knew and adored Uhura’s nosiness, but this was starting to sound like an interrogation.

“So, you’re saying the Klingons have no reason to believe you’re this super weapon?”

“The Klingons?” This was getting really peculiar now. “Why would the Klingons think that?”

“Well, it’s why they tried to kill you and the captain in the first place!”

Jenny was shocked.

“This was about me? What are you even saying, Nyota?”

“They thought you were here on a secret mission,” Uhura admitted, realising that no one had obviously bothered to fill Jenny in on the details, and beginning to wonder if she might be barking up the wrong tree. She was certainly sorry for having upset her friend.

Jenny had to laugh at the very idea of a secret mission.

“Nyota, I’m far from being a human super anything!” she assured Uhura. “Starfleet agreed to give me a chance to serve on a starship despite my handicaps. And Captain Kirk is the one to make the final decision after my trial period on the Enterprise is over. Maybe that’s not something I like to advertise, but it’s certainly not a secret mission!”

Before Uhura got the chance to say anything else, McCoy came barging into the room, shooing the communications officer away under some medical pretext. The two women had been talking loudly enough for him to hear in the next room, and he couldn’t listen to Hope being badgered another minute. Her referring to her medical issues as handicaps had especially upset him. After all she’d achieved on her first mission with a landing party, they hardly seemed to matter at all. She should be so proud of herself!

He hadn’t forgotten about Hope’s other issues, of course, and he still wanted to find out everything about her. But not Uhura’s way. Not by interrogating her like this. That would only serve to make her clam up again.

Besides, Hope needed to come to terms with the beetroot incident first. Helping her with that had to take precedence over everything else. He certainly didn’t want to lose her trust by excessive prying.

********************

Jenny was getting fed up with having to ask for help for every little thing. So, when Chekov came to see her the next time, and knowing that he wouldn’t refuse her any request, she talked him into helping her get up to try how far she could walk on her own.

Not very far, as it turned out when she went crashing to the floor after only her second step, with Chekov barely able to catch her in time, and McCoy coming running at the noise.

The doctor stood there, hands on hips, his face thunderous, as he watched Chekov clumsily lifting Hope back into bed.

“What do you think you’re doing, young lady?” he roared, picking up a tricorder and hurrying to her side to scan her ankle.

Jenny had rarely seen the doctor so furious, feeling really bad about having caused this. She looked sheepishly at Pavel, who’d turned a deep shade of red at McCoy’s outburst, quite obviously intimidated.

When the doctor had finished his scan with an angry grunt, he turned on Chekov, eyes blazing.

“And you, young man,” he told the navigator in his best no-nonsense voice, “don’t give her any more stupid ideas! She doesn’t even wiggle a toe without my say-so!”

Jenny’s heart went out to Chekov, when she saw him visibly shrink in the face of the doctor’s wrath. She’d have to make this up to him somehow.

“I’m so sorry, Doctor!” she tried to sooth McCoy’s anger. “It was my idea, not Chekov’s. And I promise to be a model patient from now on!”

How could he stay angry with her, when she looked at him with those puppy eyes?

Heaving a sigh, he made for the door, and with another grunt and a glare over his shoulder, told them, “Chekov, out! And Hope, you’ll need to rest for a while now, but I might just give you the sedative after I’ve fixed the damage you’ve just inflicted on your ankle. Some people need to be taught a lesson.”

Returning a minute later, hypo in hand, he let Hope worry for another moment, before smiling mildly at her.

“You didn’t really think I’d be so cruel?” McCoy asked, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Hope just shrugged, looking a little doubtful.

“Lesson learned?” he asked, grinning at his clearly remorseful patient.

“Yes, Doctor,” Hope nodded eagerly, then added with the most heart-warming smile, “and I’m really sorry. This was terribly stupid of me.”

And just like that, McCoy’s anger was gone.

********************

Even with the sedative he’d given her, Hope was in enough pain when McCoy was done with her ankle for him to give her another, stronger dose for the night. It would make her drowsy and a little woozy, but also help her find much needed restful sleep.

When she’d stopped fidgeting and started drifting off, he perched on the edge of her bed and couldn’t resist caressing her cheek soothingly, smiling as he felt her snuggle into his hand, as he’d thought she would. In her dazed state, she didn’t even try to hide how comfortable it made her feel.

She was such an incredibly strong woman, he thought, and yet, looking at her lying here, she was just a little girl in need of security and protection.

When he thought she’d finally dozed off, she opened her eyes again and sleepily murmured, “Thank you, Doctor, for always taking care of me. I haven’t had that before.”

“Oh, I find that hard to believe,” he replied softly, continuing to gently run his thumb over her cheek, and thinking that most everybody would gladly take care of a lovely and brilliant girl like her.

“How can I ever repay your kindness?” she asked quietly, lifting blurry eyes to his, her words slow and a little slurred under the effect of the sedative.

McCoy’s chest tightened a little at that.

“Why would you even think you’d have to repay anything?” he asked, hoping that it had just been her clouded mind speaking and instinctively cradling her head protectively in his hand. “We care about each other here on the Enterprise. You of all people should know that. And you surely have shown enough kindness of your own since you came aboard.”

“I haven’t had that before,” she repeated drowsily before finally succumbing to sleep.

McCoy regarded her sleeping face thoughtfully, his hand continuing to caress her of its own accord, his heart breaking at the thought that she might really be so unaccustomed to being cared for.

How could a warm and beautiful woman, who everybody adored, have felt so alone?

********************

Continue to: Chapters 31 - 40 Chapters 41 - 50 Chapter 51 - 61

Go back to: Chapters 1 - 10 Chapters 11 - 20

Or read it on AO3: On Borrowed Time

************ Disclaimer: Nothing of or associated with Star Trek is mine – it all belongs to Paramount / ViacomCBS (or whoever else is currently holding the rights). This is a work of fanfiction, no infringement intended.

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