#readerxbones

[auduna-druitt]

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)

Pairing: ReaderXBones

Word Count: 1050

Rating: Teen+

Beta’d: No

A/N: I had something similar to this in a longer fic and it ended up getting cut for a couple of reasons. I still loved the idea so here is the reader modified version. Enjoy! :-D 

PS. Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future fics. 

Meeting the family

The Enterprise had been docked above Earth for twelve hours and the crew had eagerly begun to board the shuttles headed for the planet. Leonard escorted you to the shuttle bay and saw you off with the promise that he’d see you soon. The senior officers had to report to headquarters while the rest of the crew was cleared for shore leave. You watched out the window of the shuttle as the Enterprise got farther and farther away.  

A full day later you stepped out of the shuttle that has brought you to the other side of the country. At the last minute Leonard had requested you meet him in his hometown in Georgia and now you are standing outside the McCoy family home. You stare at the white two-story house with the wrap around porch. He slips his hand in yours and smiles. “Don’t worry Darlin’, they’re gonna love you.”

“Are you sure?” You ask looking up at him.”

He puts his arm around you, “Positive.”

The front door opens and a tiny brown hair girl flies toward the two of you. She wraps her arms around his legs a squeals. “Daddy!! I missed you!”

He grins and prying her from his leg, kneels down to her level. She wraps her arms around his neck and he puts an arm around her. “I missed you too Doodle-bug.”

A young woman steps out the front door and leans on the rail post at the top of the stairs. “You gonna let your daddy in the house or are you planning on stayin’ out here all night?”

He looks up at the woman, “We’re comin’ Donna. Just hold your horses.” He shifts the girl around behind him and hoists her up on his back. Standing to his feet he offers you his arm. You slip your arm in his and together you walk up to the house. Once you get to the stairs he slides the girl down to the ground. “Hey little sis.”

She shakes her head, “It’s about time you got to come home. We haven’t seen you since graduation.”

“I’ve been busy.”

She raises an eyebrow and glances at you. “Not too busy I see.” She grins, “Leonard talks about you in every message we get. Seems my big brother is quite smitten with you. Joanna and I have been looking forward to meeting you.” She puts a hand on Joanna’s shoulder. “Jo why don’t you go upstairs and put on your new outfit? I bet your daddy would love to see it.”

Joanna’s eyes light up, “Be right back!” She runs into the house and disappears up the stairs.

Donna laughs, “Come in. Fred’s offworld right now so it’ll just be the four of us. If you’ll excuse me I should go check on the cake.” She turns and walks into the house leaving the two of you alone on the porch.

He laughs and leads you into the house after her. “She can come on a little strong sometimes but she means well.” He closes the door behind you and turns into the sitting room where the two of you settle on the couch. He leans back and puts his feet up on the coffee table, you settle back beside him and he puts his arm around you.

“Joanna is adorable.”

He kisses you on the temple, “You’re pretty adorable yourself darlin’.”

“Daddy, are you ready?!” Joanna calls from the top of the stairs.

“We’re ready.”

“Okay! Here I come!” She runs down the stairs and stops in the door. “Ta-da!” She spins around to show off her doctor’s uniform.

“I love it sweetheart! Aunt Donna got you that?”

She nods and fiddles with the hem of her shirt. “Uh-huh, cause I wanna grow up and be just like you daddy.”

He drops his feet to the floor and leans forward, “Come here Doodle-bug.” She walks over and he wraps his arms around her and pulls her up onto the couch beside him. “I love you so much, you know that?”

She nods, “Yes daddy. I love you too.”

~*~ Three hours later~*~

Leonard sits on the floor with his back against the couch, Joanna in his lap, and you snuggled up beside him. He flips the page of the photo album he and Joanna  are holding. Joanna grinning ear to ear talking non-stop about every picture. You shift slightly and he turns and kisses your forehead.

There is a knock at the door and he looks from you to Joanna. “Hey Donna?”

She peers around the door frame, “Yeah?” She grins, “Don’t get up, I’ll get it.”

Leonard smiles, “Thanks sis.”

She disappears around the corner. The sound of the door opening and low voices reaches the sitting room. A moment later Donna steps into the door frame, Leonard looks up. “Who was it?”

“Just some drunk.”

“Hey! Is that anyway to talk about your brother’s best friend?” Kirk asks as he steps into sight.

Joanna jumps up and runs to him. “Uncle Jim!”

He picks her up and gives her a bear hug. “Hey short stuff!”

“I’m gonna be a doctor like my daddy.”

Kirk grins, “Can I tell you a secret?” She nods and he whispers something in her ear. She kisses him on the cheek before he puts her down.

Donna holds a hand out to her, “Come on Jo, I need your help decorating the cake.”

“Can I lick the bowl?”

Donna glances up at Kirk as Joanna takes her hand, “Have you been good?”

“What are you talking about? I’m always good.”

Donna laughs and the three of them disappear into the kitchen. You swing your legs over his and put an arm around his neck. He pulls you closer and kisses your neck. “I told you they’d love you.”

You smile and clasp your hands together. He continues kissing your neck and collarbone. You close your eyes and smile, burying a hand in his already messy hair.

“Get a room will you?”

You blush and turn away from Kirk. Leonard glares at him over your shoulder, “It’s my damn house I can do what I please wherever the hell I please.”

Kirk takes a step back and holds his hands up, “I just came to tell you dinner is ready.”

[fireladybuckley]

‘Scoping Him Out

Fandom:  Star Trek (AOS/TOS) Pairing: Bones/Reader Prompt/Request: Inspired by a comment by @outside-the-government about stethoscopes going missing at work and how she follows docs around until they give it back if they’ve borrowed hers. Word Count: 1275 Warnings:  None Author’s Note: This was supposed to only be about 300 words but it kept going!

You’ve been working in the med bay onboard the Enterprise for at least ten years now.   You are one of the best nurses on the ship and you take great pride in your skills and the job itself.  You’re nearly on par with a doctor as far as knowledge and experience goes, and all the doctors are aware of it.  You have all your own supplies including tricorder and stethoscope, even though Starfleet has their own standard issue equipment.  The CMO allows you to use yours rather than the regulation supplies because he knows that you’re on the top of your game, that you trust your own equipment more, and that you’d probably just use it anyway, albeit sneakily.

Today has been a particularly hectic day in the med bay, with a small disaster (explosion) happening down in engineering and five injured crew members brought in for treatment at the same time.  Two of the crew members only had to be treated for minor burns, but the other three had inhaled a good deal of smoke and had more severe burns, along with other injuries. The CMO suddenly appears at your side as you’re leaving the bio bed of one of the more injured patients, startling you slightly.   “Yes?” You ask him briskly as he walks beside you, clearly wanting something. “I need to borrow your stethoscope,” Leonard tells you, and you stop for a moment and look at him evenly, crooking an eyebrow. “Where’s yours?” you ask, eyeing his neckline, which is completely devoid of the device.   “I lent it to a nurse and never got it back,” he explains, and you shake your head.  ��What?!  There’s a shortage, someone misplaced a storage container with extras, so we only have about three floating around the medbay at the moment…”  You scoff and start to walk again, with him following after you. “I don’t lend my equipment, doctor, you know that,” you tell him, entering the curtained off area where the second patient is lying on a bio bed.  You ignore Leonard for a few moments as you interact with the patient, asking for symptoms and how they are doing.  You look at Leonard pointedly as you pull your stethoscope from around your neck and use it on the patient, listening to their breath sounds and making sure there was nothing abnormal from the smoke inhalation.   You finish up the exam and leave the area, sighing as you are quite aware of the fact that Leonard is still on your tail. “Come on, Y/N, give me a break here.  I need it for these smoke-inhalation patients and you know as well as I do that yours is better than the regulation ones anyway,” he said, dropping his voice with the last part of the sentence, lest any of his staff hear him questioning Starfleet’s equipment.  You smirk slightly at this, and then sigh, looking up at him and making your decision. “I swear to god, McCoy, if you lose my stethoscope, I will end you,” you say threateningly, reluctantly holding it out to him.  “Get it?” “Got it!” he said, taking the stethoscope from you and looping it around his own neck.   He is about to hurry off when you catch him by the arm and look at him with a dead stare. “End you,” you remind him, pointing at him accusingly.  He laughs and hurries off to the next patient, just as you hear another nurse calling to you.  She tells you that it’s time for your lunch break, and you nod.  You’re not actually hungry yet, and you have no desire to leave the med bay without your ‘scope, so you follow Leonard and observe him with his patient. After he’s done with that one, he tosses your stethoscope back around his neck and heads off to check on the first patient again, as at least fifteen minutes had passed from when you had checked on them last. “Geez, are you following me?” Leonard asks as he comes around the corner to see you standing there, watching him. “Yes,” you say simply, eyeing his neck where your stethoscope hangs.  “I don’t trust anyone with my equipment, McCoy, not even you.  I’m making sure you don’t leave it lying around or lend it to someone else.”

“Oh come on,” he says, shaking his head as he inputs something into a PADD he’s holding.  “We’re all trustworthy!” “Really?  Is that why I’ve had three stethoscopes and a tricorder disappear over the last few years?”  You ask, an eyebrow raised. “Well…” He looks up from his charting and frowns.  “Okay, fine, maybe some of us aren’t as trustworthy… but I am!” he insists.  You laugh and he looks affronted, raising a hand, palm upwards, in a gesture of indignation. “Basic training.  You borrowed my ‘scope and never gave it back,” you remind him as you tidy some supplies on the table you’re standing beside, enjoying the expression of mingled frustration and indignation on his face. “That was a regulation stethoscope, not your own personal one!” Leonard exclaims, gesturing a little wildly with his free hand. “So?  You still lost it,” you tell him, amused.  “It’s the principle of the matter.  So, forgive me, but I don’t want that to happen again.” Leonard huffs, looking both irritated and guilty, and stalks off as someone calls him.  You follow, at a distance, and watch him as he prepares dressings for one of the crew member’s burns.  You know that he knows you’re watching him, and it amuses you as he determinedly refuses to glance in your direction. A moment later, a security officer appears in the area, carrying a small crate.  He looks around and walks over to you, as you’re the nearest officer he can see.   “There’s been some kind of mix-up. This box of medical equipment ended up near one of the sciences labs instead of coming here after the last restock shipment we received.” Trying to hide your grin, you nod and thank him, then open the crate as he leaves.  Sure enough, there’s about a dozen standard-issue stethoscopes right at the top, various other medical equipment beneath it.  You carry the crate over to the storage area, retrieve a few stethoscopes and head back to the main desk.  You stash a few of the ‘scopes under the counter where any of the staff can access them, then head back over to where Leonard is standing with his back to you, entering more information into his PADD. “Here you go, one Starfleet regulation issue stethoscope,” you say, holding it out to him and grinning as he whirls around at the sound of your voice.  He sees what you’re holding and sighs, removing your ‘scope from around his neck and handing it back, taking the regulation one and muttering under his breath. “You’re welcome,” you tell him, looping it back around your neck where it hangs with a comfortable, familiar weight.   “Thanks,” he says, somewhat grudgingly.   “Y’know, I could take that thing away from you if I wanted to,” he says, attempting a threatening tone, as you grin at him again and turn to leave. “Oh come on, McCoy,” you say genially, reaching out and patting his upper arm.   “We both know you’d never do that.” He grunts, which you understand to mean that you are correct.  “I’m going to take my lunch break now.  See you at supper?”  you ask with a smile, your tone cheerful. “Yeah, yeah…” he grumbles and turns away, shaking his head as he gets back to work, leaving you to chuckle and head off for your break, highly amused.

[kaitymccoy123]

Unexpected

Intro: So it’s finally here.  My freaking child I swear.  This is the Bones x male reader that was requested by such a sweet anon I am sorry it took so long.  

Pairing: Bones x male!reader

Word Count: 5,200 (whoops)

Warnings: swearing, lots of kissing, ummm not much else?

Summary: So thanks guys for helping me decide to keep it one big fic because I just think it flows so well together so I apologize for the length (I just went with this one to the ends of the earth I couldn’t stop myself). 

ALSO: This is my first time writing a decidedly male reader so please be gentle.  I absolutely adore this fic and everything about so I hope it’s alright and the reader came off as male, I tried really hard.  <3

ALSO (p.t. 2): While I was writing the embarrassing story that the reader tells in the middle of this fic (you can’t miss it) I was channeling my best friend so I kinda wrote it how she would tell a story like that, so hopefully it makes sense. 

-Enjoy!-

It started with an accidental kiss. 

It was a night you couldn’t really remember that well, but from what you do remember, you had passed out behind a control panel in the engineering room, with no idea how you got there.  Your drunk ass had been found by none other than Dr. Leonard McCoy, who was looking for Scotty, but had found you instead.  And this was all well and good except for the fact that you were a handsy drunk and had had a major, life-altering crush on the grumpy southern doctor. 

Leonard had carried your hammered ass back to your quarters, put a cup of water beside your bed and made you promise to come see him in the morning. When he was satisfied that you didn’t have alcohol poisoning and weren’t going to choke on your own tongue, he leaned over you to pull at the blankets of your bed.  And for some stupid reason you had reached up, wrapped your hands around the back of his head, and pulled his mouth to yours.  It was a drunken, stupid kiss, all sloppy and clumsy, but, and you couldn’t say much for your memory thanks to the tequila shots, you felt him reciprocate, if only for a moment, before he pulled away.  He looked down at you for a moment, a hard set to his eyes and mouth, before turning and abruptly walking out of your room. 

Leonard had barely looked at you the next day when you showed up in the medbay like he asked.  You couldn’t stop staring at his mouth as he asked you a few questions, and when you said you felt fine except for the normal hangover headache and tiredness, he dismissed you. 

“Damnit, Jim!  I did the best I could with what I had!  How do you not understand that?!” Leonard was screaming at Captain Kirk in front of the entire Bridge crew. 

This was one of the few times you had actually been on the Bridge, and you instantly wanted to crawl back to the engineering room and hide behind the familiar processors and boilers.  But unfortunately you were involved with the away mission disaster that had just occurred, and you were supposed to be debriefed by Captain Kirk himself when it had turned into more of a screaming match between him and Leonard. 

“Bones, you have never left a man behind like that.  Ever.” Kirk was fuming, pulling himself out of his chair and stalking over to Leonard, “Why the hell couldn’t you get him out of there?”

“I already told you, Jim, he wasn’t going to make it out of there alive.  I made an informed decision, knowing that mine and Lieutenant Y/L/N’s best shot was to get the hell out of there before that monster came back.  There was nothing more to be done.”

Kirk strode up to Leonard so they were face-to-face and you instinctively stepped forward, your hand on your phaser protectively, but the movement aggravated the injury you had sustained to your shoulder, and you winced. Leonard gave you half a side glance before turning his angry gaze back to the fuming Captain. 

“We could have beamed you out.” Kirk argued. 

“And by the time that would have been ready we would have been turned into chopped liver.” You interjected, both men turning to you, looking at you like they had just suddenly remembered you were there, “Captain, there was no time to call up to the ship, the monster was right on our tail.”

You were stuck in a staring match between the two men, but you held your ground, “Dr. McCoy did everything he could for Ensign Riley, but his injuries were critical even to my untrained eyes, so we made a decision, a collective, logical decision to get out while we still could.”

“Sir.” You added for good measure, your heart ramming in your chest at the sudden confrontation. 

Kirk looked away, processing the information, but Leonard continued to stare you down, his glare forceful and questioning, making you look away. 

“Alright.  Well we will certainly be discussing this later, but in the meantime I have a ship to run.  You are both dismissed.” Kirk turned without so much as another glance in your and Leonard’s direction, and sat down in his chair. 

Leonard started moving before you did, making a bee-line for the turbolift, and you followed, stepping into the lift at the same time.  You stood silently across from him, pressing the heel of your hands into the railing, the memory of your drunken kiss, however fuzzy, suddenly replaying in your mind over and over.  

And then Leonard McCoy was kissing you.

Hands had found their way around your sides, sliding around to your back, and his lips were on yours.  You were so shocked that you had barely enough time to kiss him back, suddenly more sober than you had ever been in your life, and you were just leaning into him when the lift halted and he pulled away abruptly. And then he was stalking down the hall at such an insane speed that you would have thought he was running.  

You stayed for a moment in the lift, catching your breath and trying to clear the haze of longing from your brain.  And then a stab of pain from your shoulder brought you back to reality.  You needed to head to the medbay to get fixed up, by the doctor that had just made out with you in the lift.  

You stepped out of the lift, knees wobbling slightly, and made your way to the medbay, anxious and unsure of what you were going to meet when you got there.  

You had questions.  So many questions.

So you ignored your aching shoulder for a moment, and stalked over to knock on Leonard’s office door, and he flung it open, looking very exasperated and even annoyed at your presence, and it made you a little angry. 

“What the hell was that?” You spat and he pulled you by your arm into his office. 

As soon as the door closed you found yourself pressed up against it, Leonard’s body pinning you to the surface and his mouth crushed against yours in a desperate kiss.  You gasped against his lips and lost all inhibitions.  Digging your hands into his hair, you kissed him back, finally able to throw your heart and soul into the kiss, and you met the almost bruising pressure of his lips. Leonard’s fingers slid back to your spine, cushioning you from the force with which he was pressing you against the door, before sliding up to your shoulders to hold you closer.  

A sudden jolt of pain snapped your brain back into your skull and you yelped as his fingers pressed at your shoulders, unknowing, or forgetting about your injury.  You threw all your force into your hands and pushed him off you.  He wasn’t expecting it and he flew back, nearly stumbling.  

You cradled your injured arm, gasping at the pain, but also from the sudden sensation of the kiss, which had left you breathless.  Leonard looked at you with a mix of hurt and confusion, and you wanted to step forward and apologize, but the pain in your shoulder was too great. 

“O-okay.  That was great and all, but it feels like my shoulder is being torn apart from the inside out so I would appreciate some medical care for a minute.” You gasped, your tone a little rougher than you would have liked, but it damn hurt. 

“Sorry, of course.” Leonard responded, snapping instantly into doctor mode, which almost made you laugh because of the state of his hair that your fingers had just been locked in.  

He led you by your uninjured arm out into the medbay, moving into one of the rooms and closing the door behind him.  He instantly began scanning you with a tricorder as you moved to sit on the edge of the biobed, and you could do nothing but stare at him as he worked.  You had no words for what just happened, and apparently neither did he. 

He told you you needed to take off your shirt to get better access at the wound, and you barely breathed while he helped you out of it.  

“Looks like a ligament tear, not too hard to fix, luckily.” Leonard mumbled, and you watched his eye pointedly not look at your bare chest.  

“Thanks.” You nodded and let him fix you up. 

Several minutes later you were feeling much better, and Leonard applied a sling for good measure, to make sure you healed fully.  Hopping off the bed as Leonard put away his supplies you began to pace, and you knew you had to say something, anything.

“Are we going to talk about this?” Your voice was hoarse with nervousness. 

Leonard stayed quiet, his back to you, only the sound of his equipment being put away filling the silence in the room.  

You stumbled for words, trying to form coherent sentences, but only one word escaped your lips, “Why?”

"What the hell do you mean 'why'?" Leonard stormed and spun on you, but there was no bite to his words.  

"I mean why me?  Why now?" You knew they were big questions to ask, but you needed them answered.  You needed answers. 

"Damnit man, you're getting all gushy on me." He grumbled, but you could tell he was trying to come up with the words. 

"Sorry." You looked away, feeling like you wanted to internally collapse at the awkwardness and tension in the room. 

"No, don't be... Agh." Leonard approached you now, his arms crossed over his chest as if he didn't know what to do with his hands, and you looked over at him now.

"Back there, on the Bridge... No one has ever defended me like that before." Leonard explained, his eyes on the floor. 

"Oh."

"And when Ensign Alexia collapsed in the Engineering room a few weeks ago?  You were calm and collected.  Helpful. And I guess I just thought..." Leonard trailed off.

"Thought what?" You breathed, drawing closer to Leonard, and you stared at the top of his head as he kept his gaze on the floor, or maybe your kneecaps. 

"That you and I..."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry if I assumed... It's just ever since I carried your drunk ass back to your quarters..." Leonard started and you interrupted. 

"You assumed right."

His eyes snapped to yours now and you swear you felt your heart stop.  You wanted to touch him so bad, but the sling was rather restricting, so you just stepped closer and placed your free hand on his shoulder, thumbing the fabric there.  Leonard dropped his gaze to your hand, and you heard his intake of breath as you dragged your hand to his neck, his pulse ramming against your thumb.  You tilted his chin up with your thumb now, and because you just couldn’t wait anymore you brought your lips to his. 

This kiss was much softer, much less demanding than the past two kisses, and it almost tore you apart.  You felt yourself come undone as his hands came up to rest on your sides, trailing his fingers up your ribs and pulling you closer.  

You stayed like that for a while, in a haze of gentle touches and soft lips, and just as you decided to deepen the kiss your com went off.  At first you ignored it, lifting your lips from Leonard's and pressing open-mouth kisses along his jaw and into the soft flesh under his chin and he moaned at the contact.  You had wanted to do this for so long...

Your com beeped again and you groaned, low and gutteral against Leonard's neck.  You kept yourself pressed close to him but pulled out your com and flipped it open. 

"Y/N here."

Now it was Leonard's turn to lavish your neck with kisses and you felt your knees buckle at the sensation.

"Ay, lad, I need you back by boiler 13, the circuit seems to be malfunctioning." Scotty's scottish accent was thick as it transmitted through the com.

You bit back a groan as Leonard's mouth found a sensitive spot on your neck and you leaned onto his shoulder for support. 

"Be right there, Scotty." You wheezed and flipped the com shut, shoving it back into your belt.

"You can't leave now..." Leonard complained as he brought his lips to yours again. 

You tucked your fingers back behind his head and let him kiss you deeply for a few more moments before you pulled away. 

"I have to, I am still technically on shift so I have to go or Scotty will suspect something." You explained and peeled yourself off him, and he groaned in protest.

"I'll see you... later." You assured and pressed your lips to his once more for good measure before re-tucking in your shirt and adjusting your uniform pants.

And then, before he could protest again, you swept out of the room and down the hall, still breathless and dizzy from the whole encounter.

The next few days passed by in a blur.  When you had gone to Leonard's room that evening, buzzing with anticipation, you found the room empty and assumed that he had been called into the medbay.  Unsure of what you should do, you just headed back to your quarters and fell asleep on the couch, staying up way too late as every set of footsteps that sounded out in the hall made you jump as you thought it would be Leonard.

It was 4 days later when you saw him in more than brief looks and a few acknowledging glances as you wandered past the medbay on your way to and from jobs, Scotty keeping you annoyingly busy.  And you wished, for the first time on this ship, that you didn't have something to do.

Then, finally, you found him situated at the otherwise empty bar, a drink in hand.  You eased yourself in the seat beside him.  

“Hey.” You whispered, resting your elbows on the cool surface of the counter in front of you, your eyes on the far window, looking out into the great beyond.

“Hey yourself.” Leonard grumbled, his fingers playing with the edge of the glass before he threw the liquid back, emptying it in one shot.

Looking at him now, you were acutely aware of his grumpy mood and shaking hands and the dark circles under the eyes that were trained on the empty glass in between his fingers.

“Long day?” You asked.

Leonard hummed in response, and you heard him swallow and exhale through his nose, a sign that meant long day, bad day, don’t want to talk about it.

“I did something really dumb and embarrassing today, do you want to hear about it?” You suggested, suddenly wanting nothing more than to see him smile.

Leonard stayed silent, now using a little silver flask to refill his glass with a dark liquid.

“I was helping Scotty with this mainframe panel that had a bug in it, nothing major, but he wanted it worked out, so we’re going at it, when he says something along the lines of ‘lad, turn that knob up’ but I thought he said ‘pull that knob off’ - with his accent could you really blame me? - anyway, so I fucking rip at this knob, and it’s really on there tight, because it’s not supposed to be pulled off, right?  So I’m using all my god-damn strength, and when it finally comes loose it’s like I freed Sir Arthur’s sword or whatever, and I end up loosing my balance and end up on my ass, this knob in my hand and Scotty staring down at me like I’m the biggest idiot in the universe.”

Leonard huffed a laugh, and you can see him smile in your periphery, so you continue.

“And that’s not even the worst part.  I guess I land on something that had spilled on the floor - let’s be real it was probably some pop that Scotty drinks all the time - and it’s super sticky and wet and when I get up it’s all over my ass, like it looked like I crapped myself.”

Another laugh from Leonard, this one louder and looser.

“So Scotty’s yelling at me, in all my sticky-ass glory, and I am trying to explain to him that I need to go change my pants, but he’s not listening, and then who shows up?  Captain-freakin-Kirk himself.  I have honestly never seen him in the engineering room until that moment, and of course he’s all like “Lieutenant Y/L/N, what’s all over you pants?  Did you have an accident” -because he’s a dick like that,” This elicits a snort from Leonard as he downs the rest of his glass, “And now Scotty’s trying to see what he’s talking about and everyone’s looking at my ass, and it was just awful.”

You chuckle in self pity, and throw a glance at Leonard, whose shoulders were shaking with laughter, and he pressed his fist to his lips to keep his mouthful of whiskey in his mouth so as not to choke on it or spit it across the counter. When he finally is able to swallow it, he lets out a few breaths of laughter and leans forward, turning his stool slightly, making his knee bump yours lazily.

You turned your chair towards him now too, pressing your knees together gently, and you wait as Leonard settled himself, pushing his empty glass away and finally meeting your eyes.  The corner of his lips are upturned into a smile and you feel a flash of pride as you smile back at him.

“Thank you for that.” Leonard breathed, his fingers that were resting on his thigh now inching closer to your connected knees and brush yours softly.  You could only watch as his fingertips touch lightly at the fabric on the top of your knee, your heart leaping at the electricity that this little contact has sent through your nerves.

“Thank you.” He whispered again as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the outside of your upper arm, and you look down at the back of his neck, at the muscles of his shoulder expanding and retreating with every breath he takes.

Moving your forearm gently so as not to remove his head from your arm, you reached over to sweep your fingers over the ones that were dancing on your knee.  He supined his hand and you drifted your fingers over his palm, hearing his exhale at the sensation, and you could see him watching your connected fingers from his place against your arm.  You entwined your fingers and just stopped, reveling in the contact, of his knee against yours, his fingers resting on the back of your hand, his forearm pressed against yours, and his head resting on your tricep.  

And there you stayed, suspended, frozen in time, the thought of moving away actually painful.  

But eventually Leonard did lift his head off your arm, and then slowly your fingers detached, his knee peeling itself off yours arduously.  But he didn’t leave right away.  He stayed there, beside you, not touching, for a while, before he turned to face you, finally, agonizingly, and he stood, stepping closer to you, and you turned so you were facing each other.  

You regarded Leonard for a moment, barely breathing for his eyes on yours, before he brought his hands up, carding his fingers through the hair just above your ear, sliding his hand to the back of your head, and you thought time itself stopped.  Maybe it was just your heart that stopped beating.  

Then soft lips met yours in a gentle, fragile kiss, and you brought your hand to his waist and around his back, pulling ever closer.  He broke the kiss after several all-consuming moments but left his forehead to rest on yours, and you watched his tongue dash out to wet his lips, and it almost drove you insane.  

You met his dark eyes, and they sparkled with hope and promise and beginning, even if the rest of his face showed his exhaustion, the dark circles under his eyes, the stubble on his jaw, the disheveled hair, everything but his eyes.  

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Leonard breathed onto your lips.

“Goodnight, Leonard.” You breathed onto his.

And he was gone.

And just like that you were inseparable.  Well, as inseparable as you could be while working full time busy schedules that rarely coincided so that you had time together that was not in the middle of the night.  

But you made it work.  You tried to eat meals together, tried to see each other before shifts or after shifts, spending the evenings in one or the other’s quarters, talking and kissing and drinking and laughing.  He made you laugh more than you ever thought possible. And it was nice.  Really nice.  You had never been happier in your life, you thought, and Leonard looked happier as well, less exhausted and less stressed.

You were working in the engineering room one day and heard two voices speaking, both familiar, and you tucked yourself behind one of the boilers, out of sight.

“Do you know what’s up with Bones lately?” It was Captain Kirk’s voice.

“What do ya mean?” Scotty asked.

“Well he seems less stressed lately, even pleasant, and he called me ‘buddy’ the other day.  I nearly vomited.” Kirk responded and you held in a snort of laughter.  

“My guess is he’s found a special someone.” Scotty’s voice was upbeat.

“He would have told me.  He tells me everything.” Kirk countered.

"Well maybe, maybe not.  You asked my opinion.  I gave it to ya.  Now get outta here and let me get back to work." Scotty sneered and you heard footsteps retreating.  

You pulled out from behind the boiler, trying to seem like you were just walking passed, and you accidentally met Scotty's eye, who gave you a knowing look, and you could feel yourself flush instantly.  How could he know? You thought to yourself. What were you going to do?

“So, have you told Kirk about us?” You asked one day, your voice as nonchalant as you could manage, and you stuffed one of the french fries on the plate in front of you for good measure.

“Those aren’t good for you, Y/N, too much sodium.” Leonard admonished and you looked over at him where he was seated at the counter in his quarters, making pointed eye contact while putting another fry in your mouth.

“You didn’t answer my question.” You mumbled and swallowed some water.

“Would you want me to tell Jim about us?” Leonard asked, stabbing his fork into his salad.

“Don’t answer my question with a question.” You snapped, but your tone was light-hearted, “I heard Scotty and Kirk talking in the engineering room, about how you look happier, and Scotty’s theory was that you were seeing someone.”

“Are you afraid of telling people?  Are you ashamed of me?” Leonard’s tone was light and even, but you still felt the sting of his words.

“No! No. Not at all.  It’s just...” You assured desperately, self consciously noticing a shake in your hands.

“Just what? We’re going to have to tell everyone eventually.”

“Why?  Why not stay in our little bubble of a secret relationship, full of hidden meet-ups and super-sexy-sneaky kisses?” You teased, abandoning your plate of fries to saunter up to Leonard, making him chuckle.

Leonard also abandoned his lunch, turning to you and pulling you close, so you stood between his legs, his hands coming to rest on either side of your neck and his smile exchanged itself for a more serious look of admiration, “Because I plan on sticking with you for a while, kid.”

“Oh.” You breathed, shocked by his sudden sincere words, but they made you smile in turn, and you slid your hands around his back, so close to his face now that you could see the details in his eyes, the few freckles scattered on his face.

“You say ‘oh’ too much.” Leonard teased, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

“You know you love it.” You smile into his lips as he pulls you in for a dizzying kiss.

“Hey, Y/N, can you pass the ketchup?” Uhura called over the table to you, and you handed her the bottle.

You were out at a little run down diner/bar that you had come across on shore leave, and you were situated among the bridge crew of the enterprise.  You sat beside Leonard, who was on your right at the long table, Kirk was across from you, with Spock to his left and Sulu to his right, and Chekov beside Sulu.  On your left was Keenser, followed by Scotty and Uhura, down at the far end. Everyone was happily chatting to one another, and you were talking to Leonard about some medical equipment upgrades you could help him with when you got back.

You felt someone’s eyes on you and you looked quickly around the table to see Sulu’s even gaze on you, a look of understanding and mischief in his eyes. You nodded to him before turning to Leonard, absently leaning in and resting your hand on the back of Leonard’s chair.  You looked back to Sulu, who’s lips were now up-turned in a small smile, and Chekov was looking confusedly between you and Sulu, trying to figure out what he was looking at.

"No, Spock, I don't think that the food here is contaminated with E. Coli, Bones, back me up on this!" Kirk called from across the table, bringing Leonard's attention away from you, and your attention away from Sulu.

"It probably is, Spock, but did you know that our guts are always colonized with E. Coli?  So we should be fine, and if not, it's just a little vomiting and diarrhea, nothing a few hypos can't handle." Bones explained, his tone informative but also very snarky, and you let out a huff of laughter as you finished off the last of your beer.

"You want another one?" Leonard asked, pulling out his chair and standing up.

"Sure." You looked up at him and he took your glass, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips before striding away.

"I KNEW IT!" A loud voice sounded from across the table and hands slapped the table.

What is he.... oh.  OH.

Mortification.  Pure mortification shot straight through your veins like you had injected it.   Leonard had leaned over and kissed you.  Oh no.  The entire table was silent as you lifted your head, your pulse pounding in your skull at the realization that they had all seen you and Leonard kiss.  

Kirk was nearly vibrating, his smile actually blinding you, and by the way his hands were spread across the table you figured he was the one who yelled and slapped the surface.  Sulu was looking at you with the same, steady gaze as before, but this time fully smiling, and he was ignoring Chekov who was pawing at his arm, trying to figure out what had happened.  Uhura was handing Scotty what looked like a folded up 20 dollar bill, the look on her face one of displeasure at the whole situation.  Meanwhile, Scotty looked quite pleased with himself.  

Air was not reaching your lungs.  Not at all.  Maybe because you weren't breathing.  A heavy hand on your shoulder made you jump and you looked up to see Leonard returning with your beer in hand.  

"Who died?  Why is everyone..." Leonard asked, his tone sarcastic as he looked at all his friends, who were looking back at the two of you.

You craned your neck up to look at him, and his face fell at the sight of your white skin and the look of terror on your face. Then, a flicker of understanding flashed across his face.  

"Oh." His mouth formed a little circle and he was the one now turning painfully to his friends, who were still watching the whole endeavor.

"I...I..." He stuttered, his grip on your shoulder tightening almost painfully.

"As for the E. Coli, Dr. McCoy, I am not as concerned for myself as I am for the rest of the crew, as normal flora can change..." Spock began, his face deadpan and very strict, continuing on with the conversation as if he had seen nothing.

"Oh, lighten up, Spock!" Kirk clapped the unsmiling Vulcan on his shoulder, eliciting a grimace from him, "Bones, since you were too busy getting your boyfriend a beer and no one else, you get to buy the next round." Kirk gestured to the empty glasses in front of everyone.

Leonard was still frozen, and you shrugged your shoulder a little to get his attention.  

"Uh, yeah, sure, Jim.  Next round's on me." Leonard gestured towards the bartender, indicating he what he wanted.  

Leonard sat down a little too heavy in the seat beside you, and you placed your hand on his shoulder, trying to shake the mortified look off his face.

"Leonard.  Hey." You said, and finally he brought his eyes to you, "It's fine.  See?"

You nodded to the rest of the table, who had fallen into their previous conversations, the hum of discussion building back up.  

"Oh." Leonard whispered, breathing laboured breaths and you knew he was experiencing the same rush of adrenaline you felt before.

"You say 'oh' too much." You teased, reaching for his hand now and squeezing it.

He squeezed it back, and the sparkle in his brown eyes returned as he settled back into his chair, your hand in his.  

"Y/N!" Your name called from across the table caught your attention, it was Kirk again, "Who do you think would win in a fight, me or Bones?"

You blinked at the Captain, taken aback by the question, "Uhhh... My money's on Leonard here.  He is fueled purely by rage and coffee, and when he gets going, he's not going to stop until you are firmly situated in a bio bed in his medbay."

The rest of the table snickered at your comment, and Scotty chimed in, "No way, lad.  Jim's got much more hand-to-hand combat practice."

"But Dr. McCoy is bigger." Chekov added.

"Which makes him slower, Kirk would kick his ass." Uhura commented and gave Scotty a little fist bump.

And as the rest of the table debated on this topic, you were left sitting beside Leonard, tuning out the entire conversation, reveling in the acceptance of your secret relationship turned not-so-secret, and you pulled Leonard's hand into your lap.  Looking over at him, you found his eyes already on you, and you gave him a smile, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you stroked small circles into his skin.  

Scooting your chair closer to, you leaned into to him, feeling his knee rest on yours and his side press into you.  And you reveled in this new-found freedom and the fact that you could lean up and draw his lips down to yours. Which was exactly what you did.

And the rest was history.  

-Thanks for reading!  I hope you liked it!-

Permanent Tag List (let me know if you want to be added):  @feelmyroarrrr @jefferson-in-the-tardis @anyakinamidala @digitalmoonhowell @trekken81​ @yourtropegirl​ @fandomheadrush​ @kirkaholic123​

[fanscribbling]

A Star Trek Drabble

To christen this blog, I give you a drabble inspired by last night’s conversation between @outside-the-government, @bkwrm523, @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse, and @musingsongbird​! outside-the-government, please do write a full fic! :D This is also my first attempt at fanfic in prose, so here’s to boldly going! 

The reader is from 2017, transplanted to the Enterprise. Features anthropologist!Spock, and (of course) annoyed!McCoy. Fluff ensues.

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS). Pairing:  ReaderXBones (implied)

Warnings: Cancer mention

It had been at least two minutes this time. Elbows leaning on the silver table, you held the Vulcan's steady gaze, working hard to stop the corner of your mouth from twitching up into a smile. Spock's eyes narrowed.

“You are joking.”

At his words you relaxed, grinning evilly. "I'm afraid not my friend. In my time, instead of saying 'are you serious', some people really did say 'deadass'."

Spock looked at you for a moment, then his right eyebrow quirked upwards. "The people in your time were-"

"Ridiculous?"

"Fascinating."

"That's one word for it!" You laughed, leaning back in your chair with a stretch. It was your turn, and you studied Spock's face carefully as he prepared the fact he was going to tell you. Just as he opened his mouth, your door chirped. “Come!” you called happily, and the doors slid open to reveal Leonard McCoy, the ship's CMO, holding a file packed to spilling. “McCoy!” you beckoned him in. “You're just in time to see me beat Spock at '21st century truth or jest' for the fifth time in a row!”

“I cannot help the illogic of your century Y/n.”

“A poor excuse!” You retorted, turning to Bones. You took in his tight jaw and strained smile, and felt the atmosphere in the room shift. After a few moments of silence, Spock rose.

“I think it would be best if we continue this game later Y/n, I'm afraid I lost track of the time.”

“Yes,” you agreed immediately, getting to your feet as well. “Of course. It was fun.”

“It was- illuminating.” Spock replied, giving you the smallest hint of a smile. Then with a nod to the doctor, he left you two alone.

The quiet lasted another few seconds, and you watched as Bones fidgeted with the folder.

“I’m surprised you didn’t jump at the chance to goad Spock,” you smirked, deciding to break the silence. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes,” Bones said, raising his eyes to meet yours. “Yeah, I'm fine. It's just –”

He dropped his gaze once more, running his free hand through his hair. “Tell me this is wrong.”

“What's wrong?” you asked, taking a step towards him as your forehead furrowed. It was unlike Bones to be so cryptic.

“This,” he pulled a piece of paper from the file and handed it to you. You quickly skimmed the contents.

“My medical history?”

“For weeks you rile me up about all the diseases no-one could cure in your time –” he started, voice rising now, though you had a distinct feeling the tone wasn't really directed at you. “And then I look at M'Benga's report and see –” he stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Chemotherapy Y/n?”

You looked at him, waiting for something more. “Yes?”

He gaped at you. “The nausea, the hair loss, the weakness – all this was something you just forgot to mention?”

“I was very young Bones,” you reply, moving over to him. “It's what had to be done. I've been in remission for most of my life.”

You could see his eyes soften at your words. “You must have been in so much pain.”

“I can't really recall it now,” you replied honestly, shrugging. “And anyway- it's the reason I'm still here, standing on your ship in the wrong century of all places! Honestly Leonard," you said, taking his hand in yours. “Shouldn't we be focusing on why I arrived here a month ago? We need to figure out how to send me back, or you'll end up with thousands like me!”

“That's not possible.”

You looked up at him, surprised, and found his eyes locked onto yours. For a moment everything was still, and you felt a sudden urge to move closer. That is, until Leonard smiled and you felt his grip on your hand tighten. “Okay, c'mon.”

“Where are we going?” you laughed, willing your cheeks to stop burning as he moved you both towards the door.

“Medbay," he replied. "We can figure out why you're here later. For now, darlin',” he looked over his shoulder at you as he led you down the hall. “I'm going to make sure that if-when you get home, you'll never hurt like that again.” 

[auduna-druitt]

Kirk’s Not So Great Idea

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)

Pairing: ReaderXBones

Prompt: Cowboy McCoy and a certain country song. ;-D

Word Count: 1751

Rating: Teen+ (I stink at ratings)

Beta’d: @outside-the-government

A/N: Happy Valentine’s day!

2256 Starfleet Academy

As the anniversary of McCoy’s divorce nears, Kirk decides that the best way to help his friend forget is to get him good and drunk. He drags the reluctant doctor to one of the local bars just off the academy grounds. A couple of hours and a few drinks later Kirk puts his arm around his friend and leads him out of the bar. He grins as they make their way down the sidewalk, “Hey Bones….I’ve got a great idea.”

McCoy pulls away from him and shakes his head. “No...uh-uh…whatever it is I’m not that drunk.”

“I swear you’ll enjoy it…” He pushes McCoy toward an old red brick building with a green and blue neon sign featuring a microphone. The door opens and he ushers his friend inside. “Grab us a table and I’ll get the drinks.”

McCoy shakes his head, “I’m gonna need something stronger than what they were serving at that last place.”

“I think I can handle that.” Kirk says grinning broadly. He turns and walks over to the bar while McCoy finds an empty table along the wall near the small stage. Kirk joins him with their drinks a few minutes later and they settle in for the show.

After a number of drinks and quite a few songs, the Orion girl being Kirk’s favorite, McCoy stumbles up onto the stage and grabs the microphone. The song he chose, while Kirk was drunkenly flirting with the Andorian twins at the next table, begins playing.

“Well, I walk into the room

Passing out hundred dollar bills

And it kills, and it thrills, like the horns on my silverado grill

And I buy the bar double round the crown

And everybody's getting down

An' this town, ain't never gonna be the same”

He continues singing very off key and occasionally slurring his words. He steps off the stage and gets up close and and a little too personal with a dark haired young woman wearing a shimmering black dress. “And the girls say...Save a horse, ride a cowboy!” The young woman smiles and exchanges a look with her friends while he continues to serenade her.

Kirk sits back in his seat with a devilish grin as he watches his friend make a spectacle of himself.

The next morning McCoy wakes to someone pounding on the door of his room. He opens his eyes and groans. The sun streams in from the half open window, reflects off of the silver instruments on the desk and hits him right in the eye. He puts a hand to his head and stumbles out of his bed. The person at the door knocks louder and more persistently. “I’m coming!” He grumbles. His eyes half open he manages to make his way to the door and presses the button on the panel.

Kirk grins at him as soon as the door opens. “Rough night?”

McCoy shakes his head and leans on the doorframe. “What was in those drinks?”

2261 U.S.S Enterprise

Exasperated, McCoy steps into the turbo lift and heads up to the bridge. Kirk has been doing this to him every chance he got for the last three days. One cockamamie reason after another just to get him up to the bridge. The doors open he steps out and the assault on his eardrums begins yet again.

Well, I walk into the room

Passing out hundred dollar bills

And it kills, and it thrills, like the horns on my silverado grill

And I buy the bar double round the crown

And everybody's getting down

He scowls and crosses his arms. “Dammit Jim! This isn’t funny! How much longer are you going to keep this up?!”

An' this town, ain't never gonna be the same

'Cause I saddle up my horse

And I ride into the city

I make a lot of noise

“As long as it takes.”

'Cause the girls

They are so pretty

Riding up and down broadway

On my old stud leroy

“As long as it takes for what?! In case you didn’t notice, I’m a doctor not a cowboy!”

And the girls say

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

Everybody says

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

“You sure about that?” Kirk asks smirking.

McCoy glares at him, “Just what is that supposed to mean?!”

Kir shakes his head and flips a switch on his console that stops the music. “If you don’t remember then I’m not going to be the one to tell you.”

“Remember what? What the devil are you talking about….” He trails off and his face falls. “I...I have work…” He says shaking his head and stepping back into the lift.

Over the next few days McCoy spends an increasing amount of time in his office during the alpha shift and often disappears completely during the beta shift. The only person that sees very much of him is his head nurse. Alice has been the head nurse since the Enterprise set out on the five-year mission and also happens to be your best friend. On the third day of his odd behavior you pull Alice aside at the end of your shift. “Is Doctor McCoy alright? I haven’t seen him much lately.”

She nods, “He’s fine as far as I know.” Glancing around the room she lowers her voice. “The captain was giving him a hard time about an incident during their time at the academy. Apparently the captain was attempting to cheer him up and he drank a little too much at a karaoke bar. He sang the old song “Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy” to some girl and she’s on the ship now.”

Your hand flies up to cover your mouth, “Oh my goodness! That explains why he’s been hiding!”

“Don’t tell him I told you. He almost didn’t even tell me.” she glances over your shoulder, “I have to go, Sarah needs my help.”

“Yeah, I’m headed back up to my quarters. See you in the mess later.” You turn and walk out the door of the medbay. When the doors of the lift open you find McCoy standing there engrossed in the reports on his data pad. You clear your throat and he looks up. His cheeks turn bright red.

“Going up?” You ask flashing him a smile.

He nods and buries his nose in the report again. The doors close and you glance at him. “Haven’t seen you much in the past few days.”

“Busy with reports.” he says quickly.

“Oh.” You clasp your hands behind your back and begin singing “Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy” under your breath. The doors open and he practically falls out of the lift. You follow behind him, “Oh Doctor, may I have a word with you?”

He stops and sighs. “What can I do for you?”

“You can stop trying to hide. You can’t avoid me forever you know.”

“I didn’t even remember doing it until Jim started hounding me about it! I didn’t want to go that night. I told Jim it was a bad idea. I am so sorry for any embarrassment I may have caused you and believe me when I say it will never happen again. ”

You reach out to him and put a hand on his arm, “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t embarrass me at all and now that I know you a little better…”

“Go ahead.”

“Well I was just thinking that you should do things like that more often. It does a body good to loosen up every once in awhile.”

The corners of his mouth turn up slightly. “I don’t suppose you have any suggestions on how I should do that?”

You smile and slip your arm through his, “As a matter of fact Doctor I think I do.”

The more time you spend together over the next few months the more he seems to relax. On the anniversary of the day you “met” in the karaoke bar you arrange to meet up with him at the end of his shift. You sit on your bed waiting somewhat impatiently for him to arrive. Checking the clock once again, you straighten your skirt and watch the door. Hopefully he doesn’t hate you for this. Moments later you hear the door slide open and McCoy steps around the partition. He stands there and stares at you for what feels like forever. You stand, walk over to him, and place a hand on his chest. “Hello there sugar. I brought you a little something.”

After a few moments silence he blinks, “What?”

You smile and take him by the hand over to the bed where you pick up a neatly folded pile of clothes and hold them out to him. He takes them from you and holds them up. His face turns bright red.

You smile, “I told you I had some suggestions on how to get you to loosen up.”

He looks at the clothes in his hands and kisses you on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

You smirk as he disappears into the bathroom.

A few hours later your comm goes off and you reluctantly roll over and answer it. “Yes Alice?”

‘Have you seen Doctor McCoy? He’s not answering his comm.’

You glance over your shoulder and nudge him in the ribs. He opens his eyes and frowns. “I think I saw the doctor headed to his quarters a while ago.”

His eyes widen and he jumps out of the bed and runs straight out the door wearing nothing but the chaps you gave him. “Got to go Alice!” you say hurriedly and flip the comm closed as you rush after him. You peer out the door and down the hall just in time to see McCoy’s naked backside disappear around the corner towards his quarters.

“Was that Bones?”

You jump and turn to face the captain. “Captain! I’m not sure…I didn't see...”

“Oh, well I’m looking for him and he's not answering the comms.” He says with a hint of a smile.

You pull at the bottom of your short skirt, “He’s probably asleep or something.”

“You’re right. I’ll go check his quarters.” He turns and heads down the corridor toward McCoy’s quarters. You watch him anxiously until he disappears around the corner. Going back into your own quarters and closing the door behind you, you lean against the door saying a silent prayer that you bought him enough time to get properly dressed.

[auduna-druitt]

Breathless

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)

Pairing: ReaderXBones

Prompt: “Is your heart rate always this high or do I bring it out in you?”

Word Count: 972

Rating: Teen+

Beta’d: No

Written for the Write Away The Winter Blues Challenge

 @outside-the-government

Author’s Note: This was definitely a bit of a challenge for me as I’ve never written a reader insert fic. I enjoyed writing this and hope you enjoy reading it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It’s been the kind of week at Starfleet Medical that you’d heard of during your time at the academy, after the explosion near the shipyards and the shuttle craft that crashed outside the academy every bed has been occupied. Being the head nurse to Doctor McCoy has it’s ups and downs, but most of the time it’s great and you’ve worked well together since the beginning.

This week has just been something else, between running from one patient to another and ensuring the doctor has everything he needs, you just knew you were forgetting something. With things finally calming down you step into the turbolift headed back up to the sixth floor one more time. Three young men step in after you talking quietly amongst themselves. As the lift begins moving you brace yourself against the railing, suddenly lightheaded. The young man in a white jumpsuit turns to face you. “Are you alright?”

You glance up and give him a slight smile, “I’m fine. Just been a long week.”

“When it rains, it pours.”

Laughing you nod, “I wouldn’t mind a temporary drought right about now.”

The doors open and the three men step out. You close your eyes and lean your head back hoping the lightheadedness will go away. Not eating or sleeping properly for seventy-two hours is finally catching up with you. Hearing the sound of footsteps coming to a stop you open your eyes and smile. “Fancy meeting you here Doctor McCoy.”

Pressing a button on the panel, he glances back and cracks a smile as the lift begins moving once again. “Hello there. I thought you’d gone home hours ago.”

“I tried, but then Kelly needed help and Samuel asked if I’d drop something by the lab for him and well, one thing lead to another and I’m still here.”

The doors open and he moves aside to let you out first. “After you ma’am.”

Smiling you take a step forward, but as you step out of the lift the lightheadedness turns to dizziness and you reach out to brace yourself on the doorframe. McCoy puts a hand on your shoulder. “You feeling okay? You look a little pale.”

“Just a little dizzy, nothing serious.” you say shaking your head.

He moves beside you and takes you by the arm, “When’s the last time you ate?” he asks as he guides you away from the turbolift.

“I had a handful of crackers about 16 hours ago…”

He shakes his head, “Before that?”

You look down at the floor knowing what his reaction will be and not wanting to look him in the eye. “I think I ate breakfast three days ago.”

“That’s what I was afraid you were going to say. Have you at least been drinking enough?”

You nod and look up into his eyes. His tone was gentler than you had expected and his all too familiar scowl replaced with a look he reserved for the more troubled patients in his care. His arm around your waist holding you steady, you can’t help but think of all the times you’d dreamed of finding yourself in this position, you look down feeling yourself blush. You stumble, your legs suddenly to weak to hold you upright. He sweeps you up in his arms and carries you into the nearest empty exam room. Setting you down on the bed he pulls a tricorder from the bedside table. He begins scanning you, he stares down at the device in his hand. “Is your heart rate always this high…or do I bring it out in you?”

Your eyes widen and you look up at him. His eyes meet yours and he grins. “Contrary to popular belief I’m not totally oblivious to the people around me.”

You blush deeply thinking of all the times you’d stared at him while he worked. His movements almost like a dance, the way his hands seemed to fly, the concern etched in every line on his face. He sets the tricorder down on the table and takes one of your hands in his. “Darlin’, I know you’re doing your job and you are doing it very well but…” he sighs, “You need to take better care of yourself.”

“I’ve never been good at that.”

He smiles and moves a little closer, “I can help with that.” he says quietly, placing his index finger under your chin and tilting your face up. You sit staring into his eyes as he leans down and gently kisses you. You lean into the kiss and close your eyes. This is exactly what you’ve been dreaming of. He breaks the kiss sooner than you’d like and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

You nod and watch as he walks out the door. Raising a hand you lightly touch your lips and smile, he’s as good at kissing as you expected maybe better if he hadn’t broken it off so soon. The door opens a few minutes later and he walks in with a covered tray in his hands. He sets it down on the bed beside you and takes the cover off. “I brought you something to eat, Doctors orders.”

You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you started eating the simple sandwich he brought you. He smiles as he watches you finish of the sandwich and the fruit he brought for you. Once the tray is empty he replaces the cover and sets it aside before moving closer to you again. “Feeling better now?” he asks.

You nod as he places a hand on the back of your neck and leans in. He slowly kisses your forehead, down the bridge of your nose, his lips finally hovering over yours. “How’s your heart rate now?” he says with a smirk.  

[auduna-druitt]

Domesticity

Shore Leave Part Two 

Part One

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)

Pairing: ReaderXBones

Word Count: 1341

Rating: Everyone

Beta’d: No

You roll over in the bed and a cold draft hits your hand. You frown and feel around on the other half of the bed. Raising your head you open your eyes and find the bed empty. Sighing you sit up and glance at the time. Eight o’clock. You turn back to the empty bed and notice a piece of paper stuck to the pillow. Picking it up you smile as you read Leonard’s messy handwriting.

Donna had to leave early and I didn’t want to wake you. Come down when you’re ready and I’ll make breakfast.

Setting the note on the bedside table you walk over to the dresser and pull out a worn red t-shirt with “Ole’ Miss” across the front in fading blue letters. You pull the oversized shirt on and slip into a pair of leggings before heading downstairs. Walking into the kitchen Kirk grins at you from the dining room table, “Nice shirt.”

Leonard looks around and smiles at you. “Good Morning! I thought you’d sleep later than this.”

You shake your head and make your way over to him, “I guess I’m just used to being on the ship.”

“I do like the shirt.” He says as he moves a pot from the stove to the counter behind him.

You smile and wrap your arms around his waist. “It’s comfy and it smells like you.”

Kirk snarls his nose, “I think I’m gonna go. I can’t handle all this lovey dovey business.” He stands to his feet and ruffles Joanna’s hair. “Later small fry.”

She looks up at him, “Bye Uncle Jim.”

Leonard stares down at you and waves Kirk off, “Bye Jim.” He bends his head down and kisses you on the forehead. “You hungry? I’ve got biscuits about to come out of the oven and the sausage gravy is ready.”

You raise an eyebrow and peer into the pot on the counter beside you, “You cooked? Is it edible?”

His hands slip down to your waist and he leans in closer to you, “You know what I ought to do to you for that?” he says quietly.

You nod and kiss his cheek, “Maybe later. I think your biscuits are burning.”

“Dammit!” He releases you and spins around to the oven. Grabbing the potholders he pulls the door open and yanks the tray out. Dropping the tray on the stovetop he sighs.

Joanna turns around in her chair to look at him, “Did you burn them daddy?”

“No doodle-bug, they’re just a little more brown than usual.” he says, transferring the biscuits to a plate.

“Aunt Donna says you never learned to cook.”

He takes the plate over to the table and sets it down in the center. “Aunt Donna doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I’m a perfectly good cook.”

~*~A few hours later~*~

Leonard bustles about in the kitchen putting things away after his run into town. You sit curled up on the couch with Joanna reading some of her favorite books with her. Leonard steps in and smiles, “I’m sorry to disturb you two but darlin’ your comm just went off.”

You nod, “Sorry Joanna, I’ve got to take this. It’s probably my daddy wanting to know when it’s his turn to seen me.”

“Okay. We can finish this book later.” She takes the book from you and marks your place.

Leonard hands your comm to you, “I’d have answered it but…”

“That’s okay. I’ll try not to be too long.” you say as you head up the stairs to your room.

You call your dad back and update him on where you are and when you’ll be home to see him. He hands you over to your mother and then she hands you over to your sister. Your sister has to tell you everything that’s happened to her, in great detail, since the last time you spoke. Rolling your eyes you make a mental note to speak with your sister more often so she doesn’t do this the next time you have leave.

After two hours of being passed back and forth and listening to your sister’s stories, your family finally lets you go. Flipping your comm closed you shake your head, “That’s my family all right.” you mutter to yourself.

You set your comm on the top of the dresser and open the door. Joanna’s giggles ring through the air. You follow the sound down the hall and find her bedroom door slightly ajar. Smiling you take in the sight before you. Leonard sits opposite Joanna at a small pink table, his knees drawn up almost to his chest, with a pink and white feather boa draped around his neck. As he lifts a small teacup to his lips you notice the bright pink finger nail polish on his left hand. Joanna has obviously kept him busy.

Joanna looks up and you place a finger to your lips. She smiles, “Daddy would you like another cup of tea?”

He sets the cup down. “I would love another cup ma’am. That is some of the best tea I’ve had in a long time.”

You cross your arms and lean on the doorframe. “What about my tea?”

He turns so quickly that the chair he’s sitting in falls over backward. “Whoa!”

Joanna jumps out of her seat and kneels beside him. “Are you okay daddy?” she asks putting a hand on his shoulder.

He smiles, “I’m alright.”

You help him to his feet and he takes the boa off and drapes it over your shoulders. “Have a good talk with your dad?”

“It was more of a family call. I think I talked to everyone but the dog.”

He laughs and turns to Joanna. “Why don’t we go back downstairs and do some coloring?”

She takes you by the hand and pulls you toward the stairs. “Come on! You can use my best crayons!”

Two coloring books, a dance party, another makeover for Leonard, one dinner, and a bathtime later you close the last book of the night. Leonard stands in the door watching as you pull the covers up and kiss Joanna on the forehead. You walk over to him and he puts an arm around you as he pulls the door so it’s left slightly ajar. “I’ll meet you out on the porch. I need to clean up some before I venture outside.” He says quietly.

You glance up at him smiling. Joanna had insisted on borrowing you blue eyeshadow and applying heavily to her father’s eyelids. She was right it’s a good color on him but you also understand why he wants to get cleaned up. You kiss him on the cheek. “Don’t be too long.” Turning from him you head down the stairs and out the front door onto the large porch. Smiling you settle on the porch swing. You close your eyes begin swinging slightly in the cool night air. Leonard comes out a few minutes later in a pair of black lounge pants and Starfleet Academy sweatshirt.

He stops and looks at you, “Enjoying yourself?”

Opening your eyes you nod and pat the swing next to you. “I’d enjoy it more if you were with me.”

He takes a seat and puts an arm around you. You lean on him and pull your feet up into the seat letting him take over swinging. You shiver slightly in the cool night air and pulls you closer to him. Together you sit in silence listening to the sound of the breeze blowing through the trees next to the house, an owl hooting in a distant tree, and the hoofbeats of horses running in the neighbor’s pasture.

A while later Donna comes home and finds both of you asleep on the swing. She wakes Leonard and goes inside to check in on Joanna. Leonard scoops you up in his arms and carries you up to your room where he lays you carefully on the bed before pulling off his sweatshirt and sliding into the bed beside you.

[fireladybuckley]

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Fandom: Star Trek AOS AU Pairing: Reader/Bones Prompt: “I’ll walk you home” Word Count: 1991 Warnings: None, its fluff :) Rating: PG

The shuttle lands right around dinner time back at Starfleet.  You’re exhausted and hungry, but thrilled to be back on the ground again after months on the Academy’s space station.   After wishing some of your fellow cadets well, you hurry off to the dorms to collect your stuff.  You’re about to head home for two weeks leave, just before Christmas, and you can’t wait to see your family again.   You change into a clean, unwrinkled uniform, close your Starfleet-issued travelling case and head down to the cafeteria for a bite to eat before you leave.

You realize that you’re running out of time before you train leaves and so you forgo eating and hurry to the station. You buy a falafel wrap from a vendor outside the station and stash it in the top of your bag, then hurry off to get your seat. You stow your luggage and flop into a seat, exhausted from training so hard for months, and from the trip back to earth today. It’s an adjustment to be back on firm ground again, and you yawn as you settle into your seat amidst other Starfleet cadets and some officers filing onto the train.   You close your eyes, and are just contemplating actually trying to sleep when a voice interrupts your thoughts. “Mind if I sit here?” You look up to see a senior cadet, one of the medical graduates, looking down at you with a small smile.  You grin upon seeing him, and pretend to be thinking about it. “Hm, I’m not sure.  Someone else may want that seat, Leonard…” you say teasingly, though you’re very happy to see him.  It’s been a while since the two of you have had time to talk, and you’ve missed him.

He narrows his eyes slightly, though his smile is still in place, and you know he knows that you are kidding.  

“Well, we can’t all get what we want,” he says, tossing his small travelling case into the luggage rack above your heads and drops into the seat next to you, holding a book in his lap. “How’ve you been?” you ask him, smiling, your tone normal now.  He shrugs, running a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in places. “Busy.  Med bay training is intense.   I may already be a doctor, but there’s a hell of a lot to learn about bein’ a space doctor,” he says, his voice sounding both amused and tired.  You laugh softly, nodding in sympathy.   “How about you?  How’s communications treatin’ ya?” He asks you, sounding genuinely interested.

You smile and tell him a little bit about your training, mentioning how you’re in the top three of your class, though you’re always outshined by a girl who seems to eat, sleep and breathe alien languages.  You smile ruefully as he chuckles, patting your knee in an understanding sort of way. He asks you a few questions about your training that you’re eager to answer, now oblivious to the people milling about, looking for seats, as the conversation absorbs you. The train begins to move and you spend an amiable hour or so chatting with him before your grumbling stomach reminds you of the wrap you had stashed in your suitcase.  Much to your dismay, Leonard hears the rumble and smiles at you, then flags down a passing server and orders you a sandwich and a coffee before you can protest that you brought your own food.  After ordering the same for himself, he waves away your protests.  

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” he tells you, swiping his card as the server returns with your food.   The coffee is rich and delicious and the chicken sandwich, though a bit on the spicy side, tastes great.

“Thank you,” you tell him, as your stomach gratefully accepts the offering and you feel considerably more relaxed now that you’re not starving.  He smiles and nods, finishing up his own food, before asking you where you’re heading. “Home, to see family.  You?”  He smiles slightly, draining the last of his coffee before answering. “Oh, just to visit some friends,” he says, shifting the book still sitting on his lap, which you notice he hasn’t touched since sitting down beside you, though he’d obviously initially intended to read it on this journey.  You realize that you’re both headed to the same town, and he’s happy to hear that the friend he’s staying with lives only a kilometre away from your family. Another hour or so passes and you both start drifting off to sleep as the train rocks rhythmically and the darkness outside makes the cabin dim.  A while later you jolt awake when the train slows to a stop, and you realize that in your sleep, you have tilted sideways and are leaning on Leonard’s arm.  You sit up quickly, hoping that he is sleeping too and hasn’t noticed, but to your embarrassment, he is wide awake.  He is smiling at you, and your cheeks flush as the implication sinks in that he had willingly let you sleep, leaning on his arm.   “You’re so cute when you’re asleep,” he says quietly, as the train makes a full stop and a whistle blows, signalling the arrival at their destination.  You feel your cheeks flushing deeper as he smiles at you and gets up, pulling down both of your suitcases and handing you yours.  

You head off of the train and into the station together, where you immediately get a message on your comm, saying that your ride has been delayed.  Sighing, you tell Leonard, who frowns but then brightens as he seems to think of something. “Why don’t we go by foot? It’s really not that far… I’ll walk you home,” he says, and you feel your heart flutter in response.  Though you’re still exhausted, you readily accept his offer, and the two of you leave the station and begin heading up the main street.   There is snow on the ground all around you, though the sidewalk is mostly cleared.   Your uniform is warm and snug, though you shiver slightly as a cold breeze drifts by, making goosebumps pop up on your arms. “Let’s go this way,” he says, directing you down a quiet side street.  Just as you turn onto the street, snowflakes begin to flutter down.  Within minutes, huge, fat flakes are drifting downwards, covering everything in sight in a shimmering layer of fresh snow, including both of you.  You look around in wonder as the scene before you radiates beauty and comfort at the same time, the lazy flakes coming down steadily around you.  The sounds around you seem dimmed, your laughter strangely muffled by the fluffy snow falling around you.

You stop walking for a moment as he pauses to brush snow out of his hair and off of his shoulders, and you take his moment of distraction to slip a few steps away and make a snowball.  When he turns to look where you’ve gone, you launch it at him, hitting him squarely in the chest.  His face briefly registers surprise before he grins in wicked sort of way and bends, easily gathering snow and forming a ball in his hands.  You giggle and run for it, but he has good aim and hits you right in the back of the head.  You let out a soft shriek as the snowball explodes on contact, snow cascading into the collar of your uniform, making you shiver violently as it immediately begins to melt on your warm skin.

You begin a furious snowball exchange with him, making the snowballs as fast as you can while getting pummelled by his projectile snow missiles.  He’s faster than you at forming them and soon you’re covered in snow, soaked, but laughing. Your last snowball hits him right in the face and he lets out a yelp, wiping his face as you grin at him.  He’s drenched too, his styled hair now damp and limp, his red uniform spotted with wet patches and white snow still clinging to him.  You’re sure you look even worse for wear; you can feel the damp, cold material sticking to your skin, and your hair wilting, but you don’t care.   Your hands are frigid and stiff with the cold, but he comes over to you and pulls you close to his chest, putting your hands in his pockets.  He winces slightly as your icy hands settle in against his warm legs, but he stays still and you sigh with relief as your fingers start to get some feeling back in them. Your heart is fluttering from the closeness, and you realize that he’s looking at you with affection. “I haven’t had a snowball fight since I was a little kid,” he says reminiscently, chuckling.  “That was fun.”  You smile and agree, and eventually you reluctantly remove your hands from his pockets, thanking him for warming you up.  He smiles and you both retrieve your suitcases from nearby, heading back the way you originally were headed.   He reaches out after a moment and takes your hand without a word, and it’s all you can do to make a small squeak of happiness.  His hands are also cold from handling the snow, but you don’t care; you feel as though the sun is shining directly on you at the moment, with the giddiness of being allowed to hold his hand filling you.  

Far too quickly you end up nearing your family home, glowing softly into the snowy night.  Leonard realizes that this must be the place and he squints at the numbers to make sure it’s the same address that you told him earlier on the train. “Well, I guess this is goodbye for now,” he said, his voice a bit softer than usual.  “Thanks for making the trip here better than I was expecting.”   You smile, glad your face is already flushed from the cold, and nod. “Same to you, “ you reply, starting to shiver from the chill of your damp clothes.  “Thanks again for the food.”

“No problem,” he replies.  “Maybe one day soon I could take you for an actual meal?  When we have a break together, off campus.  I think we’re both scheduled to be on the ground for a few months, right?” he asks you, his voice hopeful. You pause for a moment, surprised and gleeful as excitement courses through your body.  You swallow and smile up at him, nodding. “That’s right, I’m scheduled on-planet for at least 3 months.  I’d love to go out with you sometime, Leonard.”  You’re amazed that you sound so calm and confident, while inside you’re screaming and flailing with joy.

“Great,” he says, an adorable grin lighting up his face.  “Well, have a good holiday.”

Without warning, he reaches out and puts his hands on either side of your neck, making you shiver from the contact. He leans in and gives you a short, but very sweet and gentle kiss as your hands automatically move upwards and rest on his chest.  He pulls away but remains close for a moment, looking down at you, watching your reaction.

“Y-you too,” you manage, your voice cracking slightly from the surprise and delight of the unexpected kiss. He pulls away after a moment, and, smiling in satisfaction, gives you a playful salute, which you return, also smiling, your heart pounding.

“I’ll pick you up in two weeks when we head back,” he tells you, trailing one finger along your cheek and jawline, then picking up the handle to his suitcase.   He walks away without looking back, though you notice there’s  more of a spring to his step now, despite the lateness of the hour and how tired you both must be.  Feeling giddy, you head towards the door of your family’s home, already imagining that future date and basking in the tingly feeling his kiss had left on your lips.

[fireladybuckley]

Leonard’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Fandom: Star Trek AOS AU Pairing: Reader/Bones Prompt:“I can see you trying to hide that smile.” Word Count: 1689 Warnings: A couple of minor injuries (some blood), mostly fluff. Rating: PG Tags: @outside-the-government

The enterprise has docked for the week, and you and Leonard are assigned to cleaning the med bay and taking inventory of all of the supplies, while the crew who usually does those things are away for training.  The two of you spent the night together, so you’re both in pretty good moods this morning. Leonard’s good mood begins to wane pretty quickly, however.

“My god, I can’t believe they haven’t ordered more hypospray vials!” you hear him exclaim in annoyance from the other side of the room.  You look around from where you’re counting bandages and see him throw a cupboard door closed, looking irritated. “They didn’t order IV kits, either.  I’m gonna kill them.”

You bite back a laugh and abandon your task for now, going over to him and stroking his arm.

“I’m sure it was an accident,” you say soothingly.  “We have been pretty busy the last few weeks, afterall…”

“Still,” he says huffily, though you can tell your touch has calmed him a bit.  You smile, get up on your tiptoes and give him a quick kiss, which he returns, one of his hands settling on your side.  

“Get back to work now, Doctor,” you tell him teasingly as you pull away.  “There will time for kissing later…” He grunts at you in response, flashes you a quick smile and goes back to what he was doing.   You return to your own task too, chuckling to yourself.   Less than five minutes later, you hear a crash and a yelp of pain from Leonard, and you drop the tricorder you were checking.  

You rush over to the other side of the med bay to find Leonard hopping on the spot, then leaning over and clutching his foot.   A heavy bin of supplies sits on its side nearby, and you guess that it came dislodged from somewhere and smashed directly into his toes.

“Oh no! Are you okay?” you ask, rushing forward.  You make him sit down and carefully take off his shoe and sock, ignoring his angry mutters and protests against checking him out.  His toes are bruised, but not broken, and you kiss your fingers before gently touching them to his foot.   “You’ll survive,” you tell him, smiling up at him.  He sighs, and as you stand he puts his sock and shoe back on.

“Damn crew put the kits away wrong,” he grumbles, heaving the fallen kit back onto the stack and securing it properly.  “I shifted one and another just toppled off.”

“I’m sure this was just an accident too, the maintenance crew is usually great at their jobs,” you remind him gently, and he snorts, but shrugs and nods after he thinks on what you said for a moment.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna be having a word with ‘em when they get back,” he grumbles, and you bite back a laugh again at the grumpy look on his face.   “I can see you trying to hide that smile,” he tells you grumpily, and you can’t stop yourself from actually smiling.  He seems to soften slightly and sighs.  You pat his arm, make sure he’s okay with his task and go back to yours, continuing to check the tricorders to make sure they are all functioning properly.

Ten minutes pass without incident. You move on to checking all the exam lights on your side of the room, and are just about to replace a dying bulb when you hear a hiss and look up to see Leonard clutching his forearm, looking livid.

You sigh ruefully, setting down the bulb you were holding and hurrying over to him.  He looks ready to spit but you can see pain in his eyes and you look down to see some blood leaking out from under his hand.  

“What happened?” you ask, quickly snapping on a pair of gloves and forcing him to remove his hand, once again ignoring his protests.  You see a long cut on the side of his arm, blood dripping down his skin.   You grab some gauze and saline solution and begin cleaning his arm and wound while he splutters on about someone leaving something sharp out that he’d sliced himself on.  You’re only half listening now, focused on treating him, and in no time you’ve expertly wrapped the wound in fresh gauze and cleaned his arm and hand of all traces of blood.  

“Thanks,” he says grudgingly, examining your work.  “Almost as good as I would’ve done.”   You roll your eyes as you drop your gloves and the bloodied gauze into a biohazard container and return to your side of the med bay for the third time, shaking your head.

Twenty minutes pass.  You’re starting to think that maybe you will be able to finish a little earlier than expected and maybe grab some food, but once again you’re wrong.  A metallic clanging noise sounds around the room and you look up in time to see Leonard clap a hand to his forehead, an exam light wobbling from the impact his head had clearly just made with it.   It’s all you can do to not burst into laughter and you bite your lip as you listen to him swear, trying to decide what to do.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today,” you say, going over to him and leading him away from the bed with the offending exam light, your voice firm but sympathetic.  “You’re clearly cursed and need to go back to bed.”   He protests, saying that he needs to get this done, but you put your hand up to his mouth, shushing him.  He looks angry but then sighs and his face softens as you look at him with a very clear stubborn expression and he realizes he won’t win.

“Go get some food, and go back to Earth, and go relax in your room,” you say.  “That’s an order.”  He looks surprised and then laughs unexpectedly, shaking his head at your gall. He outranks you, but clearly he’s not angry that you are trying to boss him around.   “Alright, alright,” he grouses, a hint of amusement still dancing in his eyes, breaking through the grumpiness.   “Will you come see me after?”

“Of course,” you say, smiling.  “Keep the bed warm for me?”

“Obviously,” he says, his voice still grumpy, but he smiles slightly at you.  “I’ll get enough food for you, too.  Come straight to my quarters afterwards,” he pauses, then adds, “that’s an order.”  He winks at you, and you grin at him.

“Yes sir!” you say automatically, saluting him.  He gives you another flicker of a smile and then storms out of the med bay.  You can see by the way he’s walking that he’s still grumpy, but you know that he’s been soothed by your actions and the promise of future company.   You go back to your task, finish quickly, and then complete the rest of Leonard’s tasks.  There isn’t much left to do, as he was nearly done as well, and you’re finished within an hour.  The med bay neatly organized, you turn off all the lights and catch a shuttle back to the mainland, dozing in your seat on the trip.  It’s been a long time since you were back on Earth and you are looking forward to just tucking in with Leonard and relaxing.

A few hours have passed by the time you get to Leonard’s quarters.   You knock, but get no answer. Frowning, you fish around in your pack for the spare keycard he had made for you, and you open the door.   You enter the room and close the door, looking around.   A plate of food, clearly meant for you, is sitting out on the table, next to a plate that has nothing but crumbs left, a fork and napkin neatly laid on top of it.  

Leonard is lying on his bed, a book splayed open across his chest, his head lolled to the side, fast asleep. You smile as affection for him washes over you and put your bag down quietly so as not to disturb him.   You go into the bathroom and quickly wash up, swapping your clothes for a tshirt and boxer shorts of his (you know he loves it when you wear his clothes), and head back into the main room.  He’s still fast asleep so you quickly eat as your stomach is snarling ferociously at you. A few minutes later, you go over and sit on the bed beside his sleeping form, looking down at him.  He seems so peaceful like this, his grumpy expression gone, replaced by a calm, unworried one.   He is snoring very softly, one hand on the book that had tipped over on his chest, the other arm splaying out beside him as though beckoning to you even in his sleep.

You carefully prise the book from his loose grip, making sure not to disturb him.  There’s a bookmark on the bedside table and you quickly toss it into the book at the page it was open to and put the book on the nightsand.  

Carefully, you get in bed next to him and curl up on your side, facing him, using his arm as a pillow.  He shifts slightly, and grunts as he wakes to find you lying there, blinking blearily at you. “Hi,” you whisper, and he smiles sleepily at you, twisting the arm under your head so his forearm wraps around your back.  

“Hi,” he says, his voice hoarse.   He makes to sit up, but you shake your head.  

“Just stay there.  I already ate, let’s just snuggle and sleep,” you say, and he nods, looking happy with the suggestion.  

“Alright,” he agrees, reaching for the blanket near his feet and pulling it up over you both.  You snuggle up close to his side, your hand on chest, his arm wrapped around you.  You stroke his chest gently where your hand lies and within a minute or two, he has fallen asleep again.  Smiling, you lean your head against his side and sigh happily, drifting off quickly as well, comfortable and content in his arms.

[fireladybuckley]

Leonard plays with Reader’s hair headcanon

Requested by @outside-the-government

Bones loves your hair.  He thinks you have the most amazing, beautiful hair on the ship.

When the two of you are alone together, he enjoys stroking it, loving the feel of the silky strands slipping through his fingers.

You’re both studying one night and he can’t stand to read another word, so he starts terribly braiding your hair while you continue to read, trying not to wince too obviously so you don’t let on that he really sucks at braiding hair.

He enjoys washing your hair for you, “accidentally” using a bit too much shampoo so the lather is extra bubbly and he has to spend more time rinsing it.  

You find that having your hair brushed by someone else is incredibly soothing, and he happily takes up your request whenever you like, gently brushing the strands over and over, sending shivers down your spine.

When you’re curled up together watching a movie, one of his hands is usually in your hair, absently stroking and winding it gently around a finger.

He thinks that the sexiest thing in the world is when you let your hair down from a ponytail and shake it out, letting it flow down around your shoulders (he’s right).

[fireladybuckley]

A New Year’s Gift

Fandom:  Star Trek (AOS/TOS) Pairing: Bones/Reader Prompt/Request: Sequel to my Christmas fic Walking in a Winter Wonderland.  Also requested by the wifey (and myself, cause the first one was really fun). Word Count: 3534 Warnings: Smooches Tag “list”: @outside-the-government​ Author’s Note: If you feel like you’ve read this before, you probably have!  I just moved my blog to a new account, so please feel free to re-like and re-follow, as I will soon be deleting the old blog! <3

         Two weeks have passed and you’ve had an amazing time with your family.  Everyone got along really well, for once, and you’d done a lot of fun things. You’d gone shopping at the cute little market that sprang up every Christmas time, finding a lot of wonderful handmade things for your friends back at Starfleet.  You’d gone sledding and skating with your younger siblings, and the large family dinners had been delicious.   Part of you never wanted to leave this warm, loving atmosphere for the hard work waiting for you back at Starfleet, but the other part of you loved your schoolwork and training and couldn’t wait to get back.  Besides, a certain someone was going to pick you up to bring you back to Starfleet, and it gave you a little shiver of excitement every time you thought about it.

             Finally it’s time to go.  You hug everyone goodbye, taking pictures with your siblings as they crowd around you in your uniform.  Your mom cries, but you reassure her you’ll be back as soon as you can.   At exactly six o’clock, there’s a firm knock on the door, and your heart leaps into your chest.  It’s him!  He’s here! You force yourself to remain calm as you pull on your uniform jacket, zip up your suitcase after your little brother shoves some last minute thing into it, and turn to face the door as your mother goes to open it.              “Hello, ma’am,” comes Leonard’s polite voice from behind the door. “I’m here to pick up Y/N.”

             “I’m here!” you call, tugging your suitcase along behind you and going to the door before your mother can invite him in.  It’s belatedly occurred to you that you should have warned the family someone was coming to get you;  now you know your family is going to think you were hiding a boyfriend.

             “You look wonderful,” Leonard says with a smile as you appear in the doorway.  Sighing inwardly, as this will only cement the thought in your family’s mind that Leonard is your boyfriend, you thank him and turn to hug your mother goodbye.   Her eyebrow is raised and she looks both amused and offended that you never told her about this handsome man, and you shoot her a silencing look.  She thankfully seems to get the hint, though you know you will have to put up with multiple messages from her later.  You hug her and wave goodbye to everyone else, and then you’re outside alone with Leonard, tugging your heavy suitcase along with you. The streetlamps cast a golden glow and fat, fluffy snowflakes float around you again, just in time for your second walk with him.

             “How was your holiday?” he asks as you begin to walk along the street.    You look at him, smiling, open your mouth to speak, and promptly catch your foot on a crack in the slippery sidewalk and begin to fall.

             You yelp as you drop the handle of your suitcase and tumble forwards.  You can hear and sense him lunging after you but you’re falling too fast and you hit the ground hard, a loud grunt escaping you as your chest impacts the icy pavement. You groan as he crouches beside you, and when you reluctantly look up at his face, he looks concerned and amused.

             “That good, huh?” he teases as you flip over so you’re sitting on your rear end, brushing snow and ice off of the front of your jacket.  “You okay?”

             “Yeah,” you say, your voice a bit small.  Your cheeks are flushed with embarrassment and you feel mortified.  How stupid you must have looked, flailing wildly as you flew through the air and belly flopped onto the sidewalk!

             He holds out his hand for you to take and helps you stand. You avoid looking at him as you finish brushing yourself off and retrieve your suitcase.  He obviously notices the lack of eye contact and you see his gloved hand approaching you, then feel the softness of the fabric as he hooks his forefinger under your chin and tilts your head up, making you look at him.

             “Don’t be embarrassed,” he tells you, his voice reassuring.  “I’ll tell you something that might make you feel a little better… in my first year as a cadet, I tripped over the edge of a tire that was part of an obstacle course in the first year physical training class.”    

You remember the class vividly, as you’d just completed it the previous semester, and you remember how tough that particular course was.  You can picture him, falling as he tries to run through the tire section, bouncing off the hard rubber surfaces as he hit them.  You nod and cringe slightly, wondering how this is supposed to make you feel better;  it sounded like it had hurt, which made you feel bad for him, not amused.  He seems to sense what you’re thinking, because he lets out a soft, rueful laugh and shakes his head.

“Oh, it didn’t hurt much, because it was the very last line of tires and I fell face first… into the mud pit.  You know the one we’re supposed to get to after the tires, and swing across on a rope?  Yeah, face first.” He sighs and shakes his head, grinning a bit embarrassedly and continuing on.  “I was caked in mud from my head to about my knees, and everyone thought it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen.  Of course the instructor made me finish the course as I was, so I ran the rest of it half-blind, trying to clear the mud from my eyes.”

Despite feeling extraordinarily bad for him and letting out a sympathetic groan, you do giggle a little at the mental image, and he smiles down at you.

“I was really mad about it for the longest time,” he admits, “but after a while I realized just how ridiculous I must have looked and it made me laugh.”   You smile at him, feeling a lot better (at least you didn’t have mud all over your face), and nod.  He smiles back and leans down to kiss you, just a soft press of his lips to yours, and you feel tingles spreading all through your body.   He pulls away fairly quickly and you set off once more your mind buzzing from the little kiss.  

Feeling a better about your fall now, you begin to tell him about your holiday, including a bit more about your family and the activities you’d done.  

“Oh, and we went to my favourite craft market, and… well, I got you something,” you say, excitement flooding through you.  “It’s just a silly little thing, but I thought of you immediately.”

“I bet I’ll love it,” he tells you, grinning.  “As it so happens, I got you a little somethin’ too.”   Your mouth falls open slightly in surprise, but then you beam back at him, touched that he thought of you and extremely excited to know what he got you.    “Let’s wait till we get to the train to open them; it’s getting wetter out here,” he says, gesturing at the snow, which was indeed falling thicker every moment.

By the time the two of you make it to the train station, you’re absolutely covered in snow, your uniforms damp and your suitcases iced with a layer of white. You shake out your hair as you get inside and he laughs as snow and droplets of water go flying.  You grin at him, threading fingers through your hair to make it lie somewhat straight again, but it has gone all wavy from the dampness.  He seems to like it, though, and is about to comment on it when an announcement comes over the speaker system, telling everyone milling about that the train back to San Francisco would be delayed by at least half an hour.  You both groan, then sigh simultaneously.  You look at each other and burst out laughing at the twin reactions.  You decide to stow your luggage on the train, finding your preferred seats together and tossing your cases up into the luggage rack, so you don’t have to drag them with you.  Each of you retrieves your gift for the other, and you leave the train again.   You find a table behind a floor-to-ceiling bank of windows, so you can watch the snow without being cold.  You’re already starting to shiver a bit from the dampness seeping through your clothes, but you ignore it, your gaze fixed on him.

“Shall we exchange, then?” he asks, and you nod eagerly, excited both to see what he got you, and to see if he liked what you got for him.    He hands you a somewhat long, mostly flat rectangular package.  It’s wrapped in a plain but shimmery blue paper with a simple silver ribbon tied around it, and you smile to see that he went to the trouble of curling the ends of the ribbon for you.   You hand over your gift for him; a cube shaped box that you’ve wrapped in light blue paper that has reindeer all over it, with a big red bow on the top of the package.

“This is so pretty!” you say, gently pulling on the ribbons and smiling as they bounce back.

“I like this, too,” he says, examining the reindeer paper.  “Very festive.  You go first,” he says, gesturing at his gift.  You open your mouth to protest, but he holds up a hand.  “No, I insist!” he says firmly, so you laugh and nod, looking down at the gift.

             You tug harder on the ribbons now until the little bow gives way under the pressure, pulling the silvery strip away from the present.  You hesitate for a moment before you open it; the paper is so pretty, and you’re savouring the moment of anticipation. You can’t wait any longer though and you eagerly tear into the paper, wedging your finger into one of the folded parts at the bottom and ripping.

             A moment later you’ve revealed a long, slender box with a transparent lid, and you can see a feather inside.  Slightly confused, you look closer and realize it’s an old fashioned quill, complete with a small ink pot.   The metal point of the quill is a shiny silver and the feather is brown and fluffy, but you can see some white and blue marks within it as well, beautifully highlighting it. You look down, and see that the flat, rectangular part of the gift is some kind of book, bound in a soft, dark, forest green leather.  You caress the front page for a moment; it’s covered with an intricate design of leaves, gently pressed into the surface of the leather.   You reach out and gently open the cover, turn a few pages;  it’s completely blank.

             “A journal,” he says, and you look up to see him watching you. “You told me one time that you love writing short stories, and with a pen and paper… so I figured this was just the kind of thing you’d like.”

             You’re speechless for a moment, looking down at the gift. You can’t even put into words how touched you are at the thoughtfulness of it.  You don’t even remember telling him you liked to write, and it is suddenly very apparent to you that he pays a good deal of attention to what you tell him, which makes your heart skip a beat.  The journal is beautiful, with its soft leather and the gorgeous pattern, the spine smooth and firm.  It looks like it’s been bound by hand, which is a rare talent at this point in time, with nearly everything on earth made by computers and robots.  The quill is beautiful too, looking like it had been taken right out of the home of some scholar who lived during the 1800’s.

             “Leonard, I-” you begin, shaking your head slightly, your words faltering.  “They’re absolutely beautiful.  I don’t know what to say…”

             “You don’t have to say anything,” he says, smiling warmly.  “I’m just glad you like them!”

             “I love them,” you say emphatically, gently flipping through the pages of the journal. “I don’t think I’ve ever owned anything so lovely.  Thank you.”   You reach out and squeeze his hand, smiling as he squeezes back.  You know that you’re a bit flushed now but you feel like you’re glowing from the inside out with happiness.  

             “Alright, my turn then?” he says after a moment, letting go of your hand and pulling your wrapped present towards him.  You feel a bit of the glow fading: your present is so silly compared to the one he got you, now you’re worried that he might not like it.   It’s too late to say anything, though, as he’s finished ripping off the paper.  He grins at you and sticks the bow to his chest, where it blends well with the uniform, making you giggle.  

             Leonard lifts the lid off the box and reaches inside, pulling out a somewhat lumpy package that you’d carefully wrapped in tissue paper so it wouldn’t break.  He unwraps the tissue and stares at what rolls out into his hand for a long moment. It’s a light blue, hand crafted mug, with “World’s Best Doctor” painted on the side in large, bold, dark blue letters. You’d found it at one of the booths at the craft market you’d gone to over the break and had immediately thought of him when you’d seen it.  You’d been thinking it was a bit of a joke gift, not realizing he’d have gotten you a present at all, let alone something so thoughtful.    You bite your lower lip as you watch his reaction, cringing a little, hoping that it would go over well.   Suddenly, he beams at you, and you feel the tension that had been building in your stomach disappear.  

             “I love it!” he exclaims, examining it a bit closer.  “World’s best doctor.  Damn right!” He grins at you with a wink and you laugh, relieved. He’s clearly delighted with the gift, far more than you’d expected, and you’re relieved and incredibly happy.  He jumps up from his seat and you stand as well, smiling at him as he hurries over to you.  He wraps his arms around you and you melt into him against his chest, sighing contentedly as you listen to his heart thumping against your ear.  He squeezes you tight, prompting a tiny grunt of protest from you, then pulls away to arm’s length and looks down at you.

             “Thank you so much, Y/N, you’re very sweet,” he says, brushing a stray hair away from your eyes.  You smile up at him and shake your head.

             “Not nearly as sweet as you are, that journal is absolutely gorgeous, and the quill-” your words are cut off mid-sentence as he leans down and presses his lips to yours.  He pulls you closer again and your hands snake around behind him as one of his slips up into your hair, the other splayed in the middle of your back, holding you close.   The kiss deepens, and you get completely lost in his embrace as the world dissolves around you.  All that exists are you and him, with his firm embrace keeping you on your feet, his kiss shooting bolts of excitement and bliss through you.

             You kiss for many long moments before a wolf whistle shatters the dream-like embrace you’ve slipped into.  Leonard pulls away slightly and you look around, confused, to see a fellow cadet whose name you can’t quite remember walking past, grinning at the two of you and winking.  Chuckling, Leonard gives you another kiss, but very brief this time, and releases you, leaving you pining for his touch once more.

             “Ah, we should board now,” Leonard says after a moment as you stand there, swaying slightly on the spot, your mind still absorbed in that wonderful kiss.  You nod in agreement and gather your gift from him, clutching it protectively against your chest as you begin to walk towards the train.  Leonard disposes of the wrapping paper you’d both left behind and follows you, holding his new mug by the handle and showing it to everyone who glances at it.

             You sit down in your seats once you’re on the train again and laugh as Leonard continues to show the mug to people walking by: fellow cadets, Starfleet officers and workers of the train alike.  You carefully slip the journal and quill into the seat pocket in front of you so you can check your comm, as it’s been buzzing off and on for nearly the entire time since you’d left home.

             You sigh and shake your head  as you flip through the messages you’ve received;  six from your mother and several from other people in your family, demanding to know why they hadn’t heard about your new boyfriend, and why you hadn’t introduced him to the family when he’d come to collect you.

             “My whole family thinks we’re dating now,” you tell him ruefully, as he finally sets his new mug down on the tray table and looks over at you curiously, seeing you on your comm.  “Why’d you have to say I look wonderful at the door?” you ask him, teasingly, though you’re not sorry he said it;  it had made your heart flutter at the time, just as it was now at the memory.

             “Because you do look wonderful,” he replies in a matter-of-fact voice.  “Does it bother you that your family thinks we’re dating?” he asks after a moment, his voice playful.

             “Well, no,” you admit, grinning.  “It’s just a lot of explaining to do, that we’re not, actually…” you say, feeling a little embarrassed but amused all the same.  

             “Well…” he trails off, pondering for a moment, then he turns in his seat as the train begins to move forward, looking at you.   “How about we make it easier on you.  Let’s start dating,” he says, and his tone is serious but light, and there’s a small smile curling his lips.  You stare at him for a moment, a half-smile frozen on your face, as you try to process what he’s just said.    

             “Really?” you say, excitement starting to course through you at the very thought of the proposition.  Dating Leonard?  That would absolutely make your year… and the New Year was still a few hours off!

             “Really,” he laughs, reaching out for your hand and enveloping it in both of his.  “What do you say?”

             “Well, yeah! Of course!  I mean, yes!” you say, a bit too enthusiastically, blushing, but then grinning as he laughs softly.   He leans forward and gives you a quick kiss, but it’s difficult to maintain as the train starts gaining speed, so you content yourselves with settling back in your seats and leaning against him.  He puts an arm around your shoulders and tucks you as close as is possible with the arm of the seat wedged between you.   You eventually drift off to sleep from the motion and hum of the train, the feeling of his warm arm around your shoulders, and the great contentment that has filled you.

             A couple of hours later, the train pulls to a stop at the Starfleet Academy station and Leonard shakes you gently awake.  You gather your things, holding the journal and the box containing the quill to your chest again as you pull your suitcase with the other hand.  You’re following along behind Leonard, not really paying much attention as you head towards the Academy, sleepiness clouding your thoughts.

             People are suddenly shouting and you look around as your enter the very large grassy quad between a couple of the buildings.  There are cadets and officers everywhere, lots of shouting, music playing, and laughter.  You realize that it must be nearly midnight and you look up at the large clock on the side of the building to see that it says 11:59.  You unzip your bag and carefully stow your journal and quill inside, then look back at Leonard, who is smiling down at you.

             “We made it just in time!” he says loudly, so you can hear him over the shouting and the music.  You grin and lean against him as he raises an arm to invite you closer, and you watch the crowd getting more and more excited as the seconds pass.  Suddenly many people begin shouting the countdown.

             “Ten!  Nine! Eight!  Seven!  Six! Five!”

             You turn to Leonard so you’re facing him, looking up at his face.  “Thanks again for the wonderful gift,” you say, smiling up at him.

             “You’re welcome,” he replies, wrapping his arms around you. “Thank you, too.”

             “Four!  THREE! TWO!  ONE!  HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”

             “Happy New Year, Y/N,” Leonard says, then dips his head and kisses you deeply as fireworks explode in the background, lighting up the night with brilliant colours, even through your closed eyelids.  The deafening sounds of cheering and bad singing are completely muffled as you lose yourself in a magnificent end to an unexpectedly wonderful evening, the possibilities presented by your new relationship flitting through your mind.

[fireladybuckley]

The Officer’s Speech

Fandom: Star Trek AOS - AU Pairing: Reader/Bones Prompt: Requested by Anon: “ Imagine having to give a speech to a large assembly of people (or teach a class at the academy) and being extremely nervous until Bones gives you a pep talk. :) “ Word Count: 1378 Warnings: None, just fluff :) Rating: G Tags: @outside-the-government You pace back and forth in the hallway behind the lecture hall, your heart pounding in your chest, nausea rolling in your stomach.   You are due to present a full length lecture in the second year xenozoology class next period and you are extraordinarily nervous.  Though you are a Starfleet officer now, having recently graduated, you’ve never presented in front of a crowd this large before, and you’ve always had some stage fright.

            You continue to pace back and forth, wringing your hands and muttering your lecture to yourself, trying to make sure you remember everything.  You will have holographic images to aid you, but for the most part, your lesson is based on all the information swimming around in your mind. You stop pacing for a moment and try to take deep breaths, but they are shaky and shallow as you realize you’re panicking more than a little.

               Suddenly a pair of strong, warm hands descend gently on your shoulders and you gasp, whirling around on the spot to see Leonard standing behind you, looking amused.  When he sees the distraught look on your face, his expression turns to one of concern.

               “You’re going to be fine,” he tells you firmly, squeezing your shoulders reassuringly.  You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak, and he can see that you’re trembling. He pulls you close and wraps his arms protectively around you, and you relax a little in his grip.  You rest your head on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body seep into you, and you sigh shakily.                “I’m just so nervous… three hundred people, Leonard!” you say into his chest, your voice trembling slightly.  You push back from him just enough so you can look up at his face.  “What if I mess up?  Everyone will see it and I’ll be shamed out of my discipline!”  You’re aware somewhere in the back of your head that you’re overreacting, but logic is not currently at the forefront of your mind. Leonard chuckles softly and reaches out to stroke your hair, shaking his head.                “Oh come on, you know that won’t happen,” he tells you.  “When you did the lecture for me last night it was absolutely perfect.  You actually made me care about the conservation of the shallots, or whatever they’re called.”

               “Sehlats,” you correct him, shaking your head with a rueful smile at his intentional mispronunciation. “And that was just for you.  You’re not three hundred people, plus several professors,” you say, wringing your hands.

               “Still,” he says insistently, “I know you will do great.”   You sigh shakily and try to take his words to heart, but you’re still shaking a bit.  He can tell you don’t really believe him, so he grips your shoulders again, then reaches up with one hand and turns your face to look at him, his fingers gently gripping your chin.     “You will be the expert in that room.  Not a single person in that room today has done more research on these particular beasts than you.  You own this topic, and you will conquer it.”

               You look up at the earnest expression on his face and smile, just a little, as you mull over his words.  It was true, you’d been doing extensive research for almost two years and knew more about the morphology, physiology and behaviours of sehlats than anyone in Starfleet except for the Vulcan zoologists, none of whom would be in attendance today (thankfully).  You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, and you notice it’s less shaky than before.

“I know you can do this.  I’ve seen you lecture small classes, and I know you were nervous but it didn’t show.  At all.” Leonard squeezes your shoulder reassuringly again and you nod, smiling a bit more normally now as the anxiety starts to fade.   “There you go.” He smiles as you visibly relax a bit, leaning down and kissing your forehead.  You sigh, though this time it’s more of a bracing sigh than an anxious one.                  The door to the lecture hall opens and students in the current class begin to file out, talking loudly, oblivious to the two of you standing nearby. You swallow thickly, adjusting your Sciences blue tunic, glancing down at your slacks, making sure they’re free of dust and still sharply creased.                “You look wonderful,” he tells you, his voice soft.  “And very scholarly.”   You laugh softly, shaking your head.

               “It’s just my normal uniform,” you say, but he shrugs.

               “Yes, and you look very science-y,” he says.  “Besides, we match.  I like that.” He plucks at his own blue tunic, and you smile.  You like it too.  You were never sorry to ditch the uncomfortable red cadet uniforms, after all.

               “Alright.  I need to go in and get ready,” you say, taking another deep breath.  He gives you another hug, a kiss on the forehead, and then gently tweaks your chin with his forefinger and thumb.  

               “You’ll do amazing,” he says, very firmly.  “I will be right in the middle of the audience, so if you get nervous, find me and talk to ME.  Okay?”

               “Okay,” you agree, smiling gratefully at him.  He winks and then turns, entering the classroom before you. You know he wants to get the perfect seat in the centre of the room, so you can see each other perfectly.  You take a few more deep breaths, shaking out your hands, which are tingling from you clenching them so hard.  You can do this, you tell yourself.  Finally, after one more moment, you square your shoulders and walk into the lecture hall, standing tall and trying to seem unafraid.  

               You sync the projector system with your comm and watch the small screen at the side of the room as it loads your images, ready to be relayed to the holographic projector in the centre of the semi-circular lecture theatre.  You can hear chatter all around you as students enter the room and you take a couple more deep breaths, whispering the introduction of your presentation to yourself. You finally look up at the crowd and see students everywhere, milling about and scrambling for seats, talking and laughing, taking tablets out of bags for note-taking.  You scan the audience for familiar faces and spot a few people near the front that were in a smaller class that you spoke to the previous year.  They smile and wave at you, and you smile back, trying to shush your racing thoughts.

               Your eyes move more frantically over the crowd until, as people begin sitting down, you see a spot of blue in the sea of red cadet uniforms. There he is, sitting exactly in the centre seat of the centre row of the middle section of the theatre, looking around, a single eyebrow quirked at some conversation going on near him that you can’t hear.  

               You nervously clutch the tiny button that controls the projected images in your hand as you look up at the crowd.  Within another minute or two, everyone has been seated and it’s time for class to begin.   The professor that normal teaches the class introduces you, and as you step forward, you feel hundreds of eyes settling on you.

               “Uh, hi-” you choke out, your voice faltering as the fear briefly overwhelms you.  You clear your throat, feeling your heart pounding in your ears, and quickly locate Leonard.  He smiles reassuringly, giving you a wink and a thumbs up, and you smile back.  You take a deep breath, and try again.                “Hello,” you say, and introduce yourself.  As you speak, your voice becomes a little stronger, and by the time you’ve finished telling them your credentials, your hands have stopped shaking. “I’m here today to talk to you about non-invasive hormonal controls as a method to increase reproduction of the last of the sehlats left in captivity.”   You press the small button in your hand and a life size holographic image of the bear-like animal appears at your side.  You take one last look at Leonard, take one last deep breath, and then launch into your lecture.  You can still feel your heart pounding, but it’s manageable now, and you let your passion and your confidence in your research shine through.

[kinkykinard]

Y is for Yeast Infection (25/26)

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS). Pairing:  ReaderXBones. Prompt: Fic 25 of 26 in the CMO’s Log – A to Z series.  Click here for a listing of all the fics in this series!  Y is for Yeast Infection. Word Count: 1630. Warnings: Awkwardness. Rating: Teen+. Author’s Note: Y’all can blame @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse for this one. I was going to write something else, but one late-night conversation dissolved into sheer ridiculosity and this was born.  It came out a lot more PG than the conversation did!

Y is for Yeast Infection “C’mon, Chris, do me a solid,” you beg your best friend. Christine Chapel smiles wryly at you, her overall expression apologetic.  You’ve been suffering from itching in a very sensitive spot for days, and as of this morning, you’ve added discharge to your repertoire.  You’ve been dancing around the issue for a while now, hoping it would just go away on its own, but you can’t take it anymore.  You’re pleading with the nurse, hoping she can help you so that you can avoid what you’re sure will be an awkward and terminally embarrassing visit with your lover and the ship’s chief medical officer, Dr. Leonard McCoy. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” she says softly.  “I can’t just give you the cream.  Up here in the void, we’ve got to keep a detailed log of our inventory, and that means I can’t sign any meds out without a doctor’s approval.  To get that, I’d need to have him see you.”

“Can’t you just take a look?”  You ask – better her than him. She shakes her head. “I could, but it wouldn’t make a difference,” she says gently.  “The doctor would have to take a look, regardless, so you might as well wait for him.” As though your conversation has summoned him, Leonard appears from around the corner, joining the two of you at the main desk. “Wait for whom?”  He asks, smiling and leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Who is it my two favorite ladies are talking about?” Chris rolls her eyes as you turn red over how close he’s come to overhearing your discussion. “Why, you, of course,” Christine says with a sly smile.  “Y/N’s been pining after you for the last ten minutes.” Leonard cocks an eyebrow, turning his searching hazel gaze on you. “You must be missing me if you’re willing to hang around here waiting for me,” he says with a chuckle, his eyes sweeping over your face, taking in your expression as you shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.  “Are you alright?” “Fine,” you say too quickly, earning yourself another quizzical eyebrow. “Alright,” he says lightly, very clearly not believing you.  “I’ve got some charting to wrap up and Dr. M’Benga’s running a few minutes late for the next shift, but I’ll be ready to go once he gets here.  Do you want to come wait in my office?” You shake your head a little too vehemently. “I’ll wait out here,” you rush.  “Chris and I have some catching up to do.” “Suit yourself,” Leonard says with a shrug, picking up his PADD.  “I’ll see you soon.” You smile at him as he turns away and heads to his office, the smile sliding right off of your face the second he’s gone. You turn back to Chris, wide-eyed and rattled. “So, where were we?”  You say dryly.  “Oh, right, you were going to help me.” Christine rolls her eyes. “Would you be open to talking to Dr. M’Benga?” She asks.  “He should be in right away.  He could have you seen and treated before Dr. McCoy is finished his charting; he’ll never be the wiser.” You hem, haw, and deliberate for several long moments before finally nodding with a sigh.  Christine smiles at you encouragingly and sends you into an empty exam room.  You make yourself at home on the bio bed, blushing in anticipation of the encounter that’s to come. Nearly fifteen minutes pass with you sitting there, swinging your legs.  You’re getting more and more anxious the longer you sit there, but you refuse to emerge lest you run into Leonard. As you sit and wait, the CMO steps out of his office.  He glances around as he crosses the floor to the central desk and turns his attention to Christine when he doesn’t find you. “Where’s Y/N?”  He asks. Christine’s face is impassive as she turns to face him. “She’s headed out to freshen up,” she replies. “Said she’d meet you in your quarters.” He nods, apparently satisfied. “Geoff hasn’t arrived yet?”  He queries. Christine shakes her head.  He’s about to pick up his comm and send the other doctor a message when he notices the occupied light on next to a nearby exam room. “Why didn’t you tell me we had a patient?” He questions, gesturing to the door. “It’s nothing urgent,” Christine answers quickly.  “I told them it would be a few minutes.  I didn’t want to bother you, and they’re happy to wait for Dr. M’Benga.” Undeterred, Leonard turns and heads toward the exam room in question, waving off the nurse’s concern. “I’ve got it,” he offers. You hear his voice from outside the room and your eyes widen in horror as the door slides open.  You catch a glimpse of Christine in the moment before Leonard’s body fills the doorway and she’s mouthing a hurried and desperate sorry. Your gaze finds the doctor’s and his expression turns to surprise, too. “Y/N,” he says lightly.  “What are you doing in here, darlin’?  Is everything okay?” You’re sitting completely still as he steps into the room and slides the door closed before crossing to your side.  He’s about to activate the bio bed but you reach out and grasp his sleeve, stopping him.  His expression becomes more concerned as he notices how flushed you look and he reaches out to take your hands in his, squeezing them gently. “What is it?”  He asks.  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “It’s not a big deal,” you assure him.  “I didn’t tell you because… it’s embarrassing.” You murmur the last two words and Leonard has to lean in very close to you to catch them.  His eyebrows are furrowed, his demeanor one of curiosity as he leans away again to look at you. “What’s so embarrassing that you’re keeping it from me like this?”  He questions further, his tone gentle, coaxing. You shift in place, uncomfortable in every sense of the word. “Ithnkihvaystinfctn,” you murmur. “Let’s try that again,” Leonard says with a soft chuckle.  “Slow down, darlin’.” You take a breath, let it out in a huff, and swallow thickly. “I think I have a yeast infection,” you reiterate with a little more clarity. Leonard lets go of your hands and reaches up to gently nudge beneath your chin, encouraging you to look up.  You do so reluctantly and meet his gaze, feeling just a little bit mortified to be discussing something so personal and, in your opinion, wholly disgusting with a man who’s shared your bed. “That’s it?”  He asks with a smile.  “That’s what all the fuss is about?” You narrow your eyes and set your jaw, a little miffed at his flippance. “Not all of us are accustomed to discussing such intimate issues with your sort of clinical detachment, doctor,” you spit, hackles raised. His demeanor softens at your tone and he reaches up to gently run a hand through your hair, soothing you. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he amends.  “I know it must have been hard coming to me.” “Just so we’re clear, I didn’t actually come to you,” you grouse.  “I was waiting for M’Benga.” “Even so, I’m glad you decided to get yourself checked,” he murmurs.  “So tell me, what kinds of symptoms are you having?” Your heart sinks as you begin to list what’s bothering you: itching, burning, and discharge.  You wrinkle your nose as you speak, the words feeling awkward as they come off of your tongue, and you avert your gaze again.  You hope that by looking anywhere but into Leonard’s eyes, you can delay the inevitable exam. “That sounds pretty standard,” he comments as you fall silent, giving you a quick once-over with a tricorder he’s produced from somewhere while you weren’t looking and glancing at the screen.  “And I’m finding no signs of a urinary tract infection.  Your self-diagnosis seems to be right on par.  A single-dose tablet and some cream and you’ll be good as new in a couple of days.” Your head snaps up at his words. “That’s it?”  You ask.  “You don’t need to… examine me?” “Is that what you were so worried about?” Leonard asks.  “Sweetheart, between your history and my tricorder, that’s all said and done.” You groan and drop your face into your palms, shaking with silent laughter.  You feel Leonard’s hand land on your shoulder and stroke there gently. “Let this be a lesson to you,” he teases. “Next time you’re worried about coming to me with something, just do it and we’ll get it figure out, regardless of what it is.” You nod silently and don’t look up until Leonard excuses himself to fetch your medication.  You hop down from the bio bed when he returns, taking the proffered tablet with a sip of water and stowing the cream in your uniform pocket for later use.  He takes your hand and leads you out of the exam room, waving to Geoff as the other doctor finally arrives.  You glance over at Chris on your way past the desk and shoot her a look that says we’re going to have words later as you wonder whether a little more clarification could have spared you a whole lot of trepidation. To Leonard’s credit, he doesn’t mention the incident again.  He’s the picture of discretion and you’re grateful for it.  Any other man would likely have teased you good-naturedly about the whole thing, but Leonard’s far too thoughtful for that sort of thing. You excuse yourself to the washroom as the two of you get ready for bed and put on some of the cream he’s prescribed. That night, between the calming of the itch at last and the warm, protective arm Leonard has draped over you, you sleep like a baby for the first time in days.

@whatsthematterwithamelia @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @earinafae @feelmyroarrrr @starshiphufflebadger @trekken81 @fandomheadrush @yourtropegirl @theonlyparadox @musingsongbird @ababyinatrenchcoat @arrowsshootyouforwards @alluramc @medicatemedrmccoy @the-alpha-otter @gerardnot-gerald

Graphic by @wonders-of-the-enterprise

[kinkykinard]

An Uphill Battle

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS). Pairing:  ReaderXBones. Prompt: Anon – Hi! I’d like to request a Bones x girlfriend!reader: She hides a condition/ injury… from him, because she’s crept out by anything medical/ can’t deal with pain/ doesn’t want to cry in front of him… He finds out and tries to treat her several times, but she talks herself out of the situation/ leaves the med bay as soon as he turns his back on her/ avoids him… Bones finally convinces her. He is gentle, talks her through the process, helps her to cope the pain and her injured pride. Thanks!  Word Count: 6560. Warnings: anxiety, mentions of child abuse. Rating: Teen+. Beta’d by: @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse without whom I may have scrapped the whole thing and started over. Author’s Note:  Hey guys!  I know this request was further down the line than a number of others, but I was hit with insane inspiration for it and so I wrote it first in hopes of riding this plot bunny off into the sunset and finding more inspiration for my other prompts.  I promise I’ll get to them all as soon as I can!  Cheers!

An Uphill Battle You glance up from your replicated dinner as you hear the shuffle of feet on the floor across the table, smiling as you come face to face with your boyfriend.  You watch him as he sits down across from you, his own features relaxing and his expression brightening as he looks at you, taking in your undoubtedly slightly bedraggled appearance; it’s not easy climbing through Jefferies tubes all day long, and you can imagine you look like something the cat dragged in with your hair falling into your eyes and smudges of grease on your jaw.

“Hey doc,” you say with a smile.  “It’s nice to see you got a chance to get away for a proper dinner break today.”

The CMO chuckles as he takes a seat and picks up his fork, spearing a piece of grilled chicken onto its tines.

“Looks like you’ve been busy,” he states, gesturing to the black streaks on your skin.

You roll your eyes, taking a sip of water to chase the last few bites of your dinner.

“You have no idea,” you reply.  “We’ve been having issues with the hydro lately and I think I’ve been through every Jefferies tube on this ship in the last few days looking for leaks.  I get a little filthy working in such tight quarters.”

As if to emphasize your point, you pick up your napkin and wipe at your cheeks, pulling it away and looking at the grease spots on it with a wrinkled nose.  Your expression earns you a good-natured laugh from the doctor and you shake your head.

“And here I thought you’d find it endearing how involved I get in my work,” you chide playfully.

“Speaking of how involved you get,” Leonard begins, his voice and expression changing to something more neutral.  “I ran into Scotty on the way over here and he asked me how you were doing after that tumble you took down one of the tubes a couple of days ago.  He said you’d been in quite a bit of pain when he’d sent you up to med bay.  I told him I couldn’t share that information with him, owing to doctor-patient confidentiality, but now I’m interested to know why you didn’t actually ever make it up to see me.”

You avert your gaze, picking at the corner of your napkin, pilling it between your fingers as you feel your heart sink and begin to thump heavily in your suddenly-hollow chest.

“I saw M’Benga,” you fabricate, glancing up again in hopes that it’ll make your words more believable.  “I’m fine, Len.  It’ll take more than a bit of bruising to take me out of the running.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t lie to me,” he says softly.  “I don’t need to check your file to know you haven’t been in lately.  Come to think of it, I’m impressed at how little you seem to come into medical for.  I don’t think I’ve ever had to see you as a patient.”

You blush, averting your gaze once again, cursing inwardly at how perceptive he is.

“I’m good at my job,” you supply.  “I don’t get hurt much, and even when I do it’s not usually anything worth bothering you about.”

“You could never bother me, sweetheart,” Leonard says gently, reaching out to take your hand, stopping its incessant fiddling.  “Now if it’s true and you manage to do your job without injury then I’m happy to hear it, but if you’re getting hurt as often as the rest of your department, as I suspect you probably are, then I really wish you’d come and see me.”

You shrug your shoulders, hating that he’s right, and meet his gaze.  Taking a deep, cleansing breath, you put a chipper smile on your face and nod.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you promise.  “Thanks, Len.”

The two of you finish your meal without much further chatter.  As you gather up your dishes and cobble them together on your tray, he reaches out to take your hand again, not letting you go just yet.

“Come by and see me after your shift,” he instructs.  “I’d like to run a quick scan, just to make sure you’re alright, then we can head upstairs together.”

You bite your lip, pulling your hand away and picking up your tray.

“I’ll see if I can make it,” you say briskly.  “I’ve still got a lot of work to do and you know how I lose track of time.  Don’t wait up if I’m not there by the end of Alpha.”

You can tell he’s not impressed with your disregard for your own health but he simply nods, even if it’s a bit curtly, and lets you go.  You can feel a cold trickle of sweat run down your back as you walk away from him and you realize you’re shaking like a leaf at the mere thought of having to go into med bay so unexpectedly.  Nope, you’re definitely not going to be stopping by to see him tonight or any time in the near future.

Your day goes by without incident following dinner, and you’ve forgotten all about your earlier exchange with Leonard as you make your way to the officers’ quarters.  You stop outside of his door and punch in his pass code, stepping inside and smiling as you find him sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter, sipping on a mug of tea.  His expression is serious and the memories from dinner come rushing back to you in an instant, making your head swim as your heart picks up its pace.

“I’m so sorry, Len,” you apologize quickly, stepping closer and glancing at the chron, realizing it’s well after shift change.  “It completely slipped my mind.”

He nods, reaching into his pocket and pulling a tricorder out from its depths.

“I figured it would,” he says lightly.  “So I brought this with me.”

You hope that he can’t see how pale you’ve suddenly gone in the soft lighting and you take a wide berth around the counter, staying out of arm’s reach.

“I’m fine,” you insist.  “Really, I’m barely even sore anymore.  I’m sure another good night’s sleep will take care of it.”

He considers you thoughtfully, setting the tricorder down on the counter, much to your relief.  He beckons you closer and you inch forward in baby steps, finally coming to stand with your legs brushing his.  He reaches out, taking your face in hand and leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your lips.  You sigh into the kiss and relax a a little at the feeling of his warm touch in stark contrast to your own cool, clammy skin.  He breaks the kiss a moment later and regards you, shifting so his legs are apart and pulling you in close to his chest.  You hiss as the motion makes pain explode through your still-healing midsection and bite your lip to stop a curse coming out of your mouth when Leonard pulls away just enough to look at you again, one eyebrow raised in concern.

“I looked through your patient file after we talked earlier,” he begins, holding up a hand to stop you as you open your mouth to argue.  “As this ship’s CMO it’s my job to be familiar with the crew’s medical files, and I wanted to be sure I had nothing to worry about with you.  You can’t blame me for being worried after the way you tried to get out of an exam.”

You close your eyes, taking a deep, cleansing breath, and nod.

“I trust everything was to your satisfaction,” you say stiffly.

“I was happy to see that you’ve never suffered a major injury in the line of duty,” he offers.  “But I noticed a pattern as I looked through your logs.  Your heart rate and blood pressure have always been elevated during your physicals.  I went further back in your records to see how long-standing a history you have of presenting that way and I found your intake medical information.  Your vitals were elevated even back then and so they had you wear a forty-eight-hour ambulatory monitor.  The results came back normal and so you were cleared for duty.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” you insist again, opening your eyes again but dropping your gaze to the floor.

“I’m sure you are,” Leonard reassures you, his tone much softer and kinder now.  “But it’s my job to make sure you stay that way, and so I’d really like it if you’d let me see to whatever injury you’ve sustained and give you a quick physical for good measure.”

You shake your head.

“It’s really not necessary,” you argue.

Silence falls between the two of you and Leonard gently drops his hands away from you, giving you the chance to retreat if you need to.  You turn to face away from him as tears sting at your eyes, refusing to let him see you in such a moment of weakness.  You can practically hear the internal struggle he’s having between pulling rank on you and ordering you into med bay for an exam, and giving you the benefit of the doubt as his girlfriend.

“It’s anxiety,” he offers softly.  “I can see that, darlin’, but why?  What’s got you so worked up?”

You shake your head, the tears that have been stinging at your eyes falling now, and you bolt.  You’re in such a rush you nearly crash into the retreating door as it slides open to let you out and you don’t stop until you’re in your own quarters.  You fling yourself onto your bed and fight through the panic that’s building in your system.  You lie there for what feels like hours, tense, waiting to hear the door to your quarters slide open again and admit Leonard.  It doesn’t happen, though.  It stays still and silent and you’re not even sure when or how it happens, but soon you’re asleep.

The next morning you slip into a Jefferies tube – not for work reasons this time, but because you’re not quite ready to face Leonard, and so you creep through the tube to get to the mess for breakfast, bypassing med bay entirely.  You manage to eat and slip out of the mess hall without seeing Leonard and you’re relieved.

You have the day off but you’re restless and so you make your way down to engineering anyway.  You want to catch up on some reading and you know that Scotty’s always happy to let you use his office when you need an escape.  You make it there in no time and knock on his door jamb before stepping in, earning yourself a smile.

“Good mornin’, lassie,” he says brightly.  “What can I do for ya?”

“Hey Scotty,” you greet with a small smile.  “Mind if I crash on your couch for a while?”

He gestures to the sofa.

“Be my guest,” he says with a nod.  “How’re you healing up after that injury?  I saw Dr. McCoy yesterday and asked after you, but he wasn’t overly forthcoming with the information.”

You shrug.

“I’m fine,” you reply.  “No big deal.”

“Did he say you’d broken anythin’?”  Your boss asks.  “Tha’ was quite the impact you had with that railin’ on your way down.  I was worried ‘bout internal bleedin’.”

You shake your head as you creep over to the couch, sitting down and shifting around gingerly.  You can see Scotty watching you out of the corner of your eye and you can tell he’s waiting for you to say something.  You know you’re busted when his expression furrows in concern and he stands up, making his way over to you.

“You didn’t go, did you?”  He asks gently.

You swallow thickly and shake your head, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Lassie, my job on this ship isn’t just to ensure the ship’s in good shape,” Scotty says softly.  “It’s to make sure my crew are taken care of.  Now, I’m goin’ to have to insist that you go up to medical.  You’re suspended from duty until I receive a medical clearance from Dr. McCoy.”

Your eyes widen and your head whips up, your gaze landing on him.

“Scotty, please, I’m fine,” you plead with him.  “I haven’t had any problems since the fall, honest!”

“I’m sure no real damage has been done, lass,” Scotty agrees.  “But there are protocols.  If you need a little nudge in the right direction to take care of yourself, it’s my job to provide it.  Go on, now.  I’ll be waiting for a report.”

You curse inwardly and nod, knowing he’s got your back against the ropes.  Getting to your feet, you make your way out of his office and head resignedly for the turbo lift.  You’re not ready to face Leonard yet, and you’re definitely not prepared to step into med bay without time to rationalize the trip to yourself, but your hands are tied and you know that if you don’t do what Scotty’s told you to, you’re going to wind up being questioned even more or possibly even reported to the captain, and you can’t bear the thought of that.  If that happens, you’ll be dragged kicking and screaming into med bay anyway on direct orders, so at least if you walk in there of your own free will you’ll be spared that embarrassment.

Taking a deep breath as you step off of the lift, you ball your hands into fists and try to find some composure.  Your heart’s hammering behind your ribs and you feel like you’re about to throw up, but you force yourself to approach medical anyway.

It’s just anxiety.  You’re not in any danger, this fear is irrational, it’ll be okay.  You can do this.

You step over the threshold and nearly back out again, but with sheer force of will you go on, step by step, until you reach the desk.  You’re trembling, sweaty, and feel like you’re about to faint as you wait for the nurse there to acknowledge you.  She’s smiling as she looks up but her expression quickly fades into one of concern as she notices your pallor and unease.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant?”  The nurse asks. “Please, come with me.”

She stands up and moves around the desk toward you, taking you by the arm and leading you toward a nearby empty bio bed.  She guides you to sit up on it but you plant your feet, shaking your head.

“Please, Lieutenant, I need to check your vital signs,” she urges you somewhat firmly.

You shake your head, your hair falling into your eyes, panic threatening to overwhelm you completely.

“I need to assess your condition,” she implores you.

You’re about to turn and run away as quickly as you came when you hear familiar footfalls approach the two of you.  A hand lands on your shoulder and you feel a spark of reassurance amidst the maelstrom of anxiety.

“What’s going on here?”  Leonard asks softly.

“I’m not sure, doctor,” the nurse replies.  “Lieutenant Y/L/N hasn’t told me what’s happened, and she’s refusing to sit on the bed.”

“I’ll handle it,” Leonard assures the other woman.  “Thank you, Nurse Lane.”

The woman looks like she’s going to argue but she nods, leaving you and Leonard alone in the cubicle.  Once she’s gone, he moves to stand in front of you, tipping your head up with a gentle touch under your chin, pushing your hair back behind your ears so it’s not crowding you.

“Take a deep breath for me, sweetheart,” he instructs softly, his hands landing on your shoulders, his thumbs stroking there.  “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

You nod, trying to do as he says, feeling some of the tingling in your fingers and toes dissipate with the waves of oxygen you’re taking in.  You shake yourself off a little, your head still reeling but less so, and manage to meet Leonard’s gaze.

“Are you here to let me look at that injury?”  He asks.

You nod mutely.

“Okay, darlin’,” he soothes.  “Let’s get you up on the bed and take a peek.”

You allow him to slowly lead you closer to the bed until your hip is bumping it.  Shifting around, you climb onto it with a little hop and close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing as you hear the bed’s built-in monitor signalling your racing heartbeat to everyone around you.  It’s creating more anxiety and you’re about to ask Leonard to turn it off when the sound stops.  Opening your eyes, you realize he’s done just that and is instead scanning you with his tricorder.

You can’t help but flinch away from the instrument as he waves it close to your body.  You have a strong distrust for medical technology owing to your troubled past and no matter how hard you try, you can’t sit still long enough for him to get a good reading.  He gives up after a minute and sets the tricorder down, showing you his bare hands in a sign of surrender.

“You have to talk to me, sweetheart,” he says gently.  “What is it that’s scaring you so badly?”

You drop your head, running a hand through your hair, keeping your eyes wide open in hopes that it’ll keep the flashbacks to a minimum as you talk.  You know you owe him an explanation, and that you’re going to need to bring it up eventually if he’s ever going to treat you for anything, but that doesn’t make it any easier.  Several minutes pass as you collect your thoughts and when you do, you begin to speak, still not looking up.

“When I was a kid, I was always at the doctor’s,” you explain, your voice quiet and tremulous.  “Every few days, like clockwork.  My mom was always making me go because she said there was something wrong with me.  I felt okay, but after a while I started to believe her.  I knew normal kids didn’t go to the doctor so much, so I assumed I really did have to be sick or I wouldn’t be going, either.  It went on for years.  I had so many tests, so many needles, so many doctors examining me, touching me when I didn’t want to be touched…  It was awful.”

You pause, your fingers playing with the hem of your dress, and reach up to wipe away an errant tear.  Leonard hovers beside you but makes no move to rush you, to encourage you before you’re ready to continue, and for that you’re grateful.  A couple of minutes pass and you find your voice again, picking up where you’d left off.

“One day, my mom got really sick,” you continue.  “She was hospitalized and I went to stay with my uncle.  My dad had passed away when I was very young so I had no one else.  While I was there, I kept telling my uncle I was sick, because I thought I was.  He was a doctor and so he looked me over and he told me that he couldn’t find anything wrong with me.  He asked me what was going on so I told him about everything, and I never got to see my mom again.”

You take a slow, deep breath and look up, meeting Leonard’s eyes, your own now dry in the wake of your tears and shining with determination.  You’ve gotten this far, and now you’re going to make sure you finish.

“It turns out I was fine all along,” you go on.  “My uncle told me that my mom couldn’t deal with losing my dad, so she tried to hold onto me in the only way she knew how – by making me think I was sick so I would be dependent on her.  So I wouldn’t leave her.  He called it Munchausen by Proxy; I call it a living, breathing nightmare.  Ever since then, no matter how much I tell myself that none of it was real, that I wasn’t sick, that I’m not sick, I just can’t convince myself.  Every time I have to see a doctor, even just for a routine checkup, I panic.  I’m scared I’ll get the news that something is terribly wrong, that I really am as sick as I’d always been led to believe that I was.  Everything freaks me out – the monitors, the needles, the tricorders…  Everything about this place.”

Leonard considers your story as you trail off.  You can see the light of a dozen emotions shining in his eyes – empathy, kindness, apology, and so many things in between.  Not pity – never pity – just love and a want to do right by you.  He steps closer to you after a moment, reaching out and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace.  He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and rubs your back as he holds you.

“Thank you for sharing all of that with me,” he murmurs.  “I won’t push you, but now that I know, I can try to help.  I can do my best to make this easier on you, to help you overcome some of that, if you’ll let me.”

“Okay,” you agree, your voice nearly inaudible over the cacophony of background noises ever-present in the med bay.

Leonard pulls away enough that he can look at you and he smiles softly, his pride unspoken but clear, like a beacon in the haze of panic that’s still consuming you.

“You trust me, right?”  He asks gently.

“Of course,” you say without hesitation.

“Okay,” he murmurs.  “Then let’s start slow.  Why don’t you tell me how you injured yourself and we’ll go from there.”

He moves so that he’s leaning his hip against the bio bed at your side, but he refrains from picking up his tricorder, simply focusing all of his attention on you.  Without the threat of being examined looming imminently, you nod and tell him your story.

“I was perched on a ladder in one of the vertical Jefferies a couple of days ago,” you start.  “I reached for a wrench I’d set on a ledge a few feet away and lost my balance.  I fell about twelve feet, sliding against the ladder most of the way, but where the Jefferies widens out at the bottom I splayed out a bit and landed draped over a railing.  I bruised up my ribcage pretty bad.”

Leonard nods and moves away from you for a moment, opening a cabinet and pulling out a hospital gown.  He returns to your side, holding the gown out to you, his expression apologetic.

“I know it’s probably the last thing you want to do right now, but I need you to change into that for me,” he instructs, his tone gentle.  “I could just scan you with a tricorder, but considering your history, I think a change of tactics might be in order so I’m going to examine you myself, that way I only need to use the tricorder sparingly.  I think you might be a little more comfortable with that.”

You nod, your expression reproachful as you take the gown from him.  He takes his leave, giving you a minute or two in which to change your clothes.  You’re overwhelmed by everything, even with the bio bed turned off and the tricorder tucked safely away, and you decide against your own better judgment that you need to be somewhere else.  Leonard’s words and promises have helped to soothe you a little, but you’re still just not ready.

Tossing the gown down on the bed, you peer around the privacy curtain, looking for any signs of him.  You can see him at the nurses’ station, his back to you, and you make a run for it before he can turn around.  Skidding out the med bay’s doors, you bolt for the turbo lift, thanking the stars when it’s already open and waiting, having arrived at the summons of another crew member.

You’re in your quarters not a minute later and lying on your bed, clutching a pillow for the comfort it provides and trying to rid yourself of the anxiety that has engulfed you.  You feel better being in your room, away from the med bay, but you know that your reprieve won’t last long.  Sure enough, a few moments later you hear your passcode being entered outside your doors and the sound of footsteps in the wake of the soft sliding of the panel being opened.

You curl up more tightly, tears threatening to fall again as you hear Leonard’s footsteps approaching the bed.  As his weight lands on the mattress, you’re pulled closer to him but you refuse to uncurl yourself.  You feel his hand come to rest on your shoulder and you tip your head just enough to nuzzle his fingers with your cheek, acknowledging his presence.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper hoarsely.  “It was too much, too soon.”

“That’s alright, darlin’,” he assures you.  “You’ve got a few days off.  I received a message from Mr. Scott about you needing a medical clearance before he’ll let you back on duty, but we can take care of that in a day or two, if that’s better for you.  You don’t even have to come down to the med bay.”

You sniff and turn your head a bit, glancing at Leonard over your shoulder.

“What do you mean?”  You ask, curious even through the nerves.

“Aside from a few specialized scans, which I doubt you’ll need, there’s nothing I can’t do for you here with my own two hands, a couple of instruments, and a tricorder,” the doctor reasons.  “It’s private, quiet, and a lot less impersonal in here than it is in the med bay, so if you think you’d rather I see to you here, I can live with that.”

You reach up shakily with one hand, wiping away the tear tracks on your face, and slowly shift around so that you’re lying on your back with the pillow at your side.  You look into Leonard’s eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and the desire to take care of and protect you there.

“Okay,” you agree.  “But not today.”

“Not today,” Leonard echoes with a nod.

You spend the rest of the evening wrapped up in his embrace, the awkwardness you feel about him having witnessed you at your worst and weakest drying up more and more with each kiss, each stroke of his hand on your skin.  The next day goes by just as uneventfully, and so does the third, but as the fourth rolls around you know it’s time to act.  You can’t run from your obligations anymore, and so you comm Leonard, telling him you’ll be ready for him in your quarters at the end of his shift.

You’re lying on your bed when he arrives, wearing your favorite pajamas so that you’re as comfortable and far-removed from the situation as possible.  Leonard smiles as he sets his med kit down on your bedside table and leans in to give you a soft, gentle kiss.  You can feel your heart racing and the all-too-familiar emotions bubbling up inside of you, but you keep still as he pulls away, watching him from your vulnerable vantage point.

“Are you ready?”  He asks.

You nod, words failing you, and brace yourself.

“I’m going to touch you now,” Leonard says softly, his voice quiet and deep and strangely reassuring – so different from the voice other doctors have tried to calm you with in the past, with their iterations of it’s just a checkup and you’re fine.

You keep your gaze glued to his face as he looks down, gently pushing the hem of your oversized t-shirt up a ways, exposing the extensive bruising on your torso.  The contusion is still a deep and angry purple-red at the center, but has faded to an unattractive yellow-green around the edges and you wrinkle your nose as his eyes rake over the injury, knowing that it’s quite an ugly sight.

“I’m going to press on your ribs to make sure you haven’t badly fractured any of them,” he explains calmly.  “This might hurt a little.  Just breathe for me, sweetheart.”

You avert your gaze to the ceiling at his words, focusing on counting the rivets in the panelling there as he begins his gentle, careful palpation.  You close your eyes as he presses on a particularly sore spot, sucking in a breath and feeling your core muscles tighten against the onslaught.  His touch eases up almost immediately but you feel him press down again a little higher.  This time it’s a bit less painful and you relax again a little, trembling in the wake of the aching.

“I’m done there,” Leonard reassures you.  “You did just fine.  I don’t think you’ve broken anything, but I’ll need to give you a quick scan later to be sure.  I’ll give you something for the pain and to help fade this bruising, too.”

You’re relieved at his words, even if you are still a bit anxious about the scans, and you nod, opening your eyes once more.  He’s looking at you when you glance at him and his expression is kind.  He tugs the hem of your shirt down, flattening a palm on your belly and stroking there softly as he considers you.

“I still need to perform a quick physical to clear you for duty,” Leonard explains.  “Just the basics – I’ll check your pulse and blood pressure, listen to your heart and lungs, and give you a quick scan over with the tricorder to check your blood chemistry and look for any rib fractures or internal bleeding from that injury.  That’s it.  Does that sound alright?”

You nod somewhat reluctantly and earn yourself a proud smile from your boyfriend.

“Can… Can you explain what you’re doing as you go?”  You ask.  “I’m so used to all of this, I’ve been through it hundreds of times, but I don’t… understand it.  I’m just used to being a body, a diagnosis to be made.  I’d like to know what you’re doing and why…”

You trail off, your words quiet, your tone strained.  You’ve never dared to ask before – you’ve always been to afraid to speak up and you’re used to feeling too small to have a valid voice, so this is a big step for you, and you can tell Leonard appreciates that you’re able to communicate with him.

“Of course I can,” Leonard assures you.  “And if I haven’t explained something to your satisfaction, just let me know and I’ll tell you more.  I want you to talk to me, darlin’.  Now, just take a deep breath for me, Y/N, and give me your hands.”

You’ve never had a doctor ask you to do that before and you watch him curiously as you place your palms in his, the heat of his skin seeping into yours and relaxing you a little.  He peers at your hands, gently pressing on one of your fingernail beds, watching the skin beneath it blanch and pink up again, assessing your circulation.

“You’re a little clammy,” he says softly.  “I’m sure that’s just your nerves.  You’re doing great.  Now just keep your arm relaxed here, I’m going to take your wrist and check your pulse.”

You do as he asks, nodding to give your consent and watching him as he does exactly what he’d said he would.  You can feel your pulse reverberating frantically against his fingertips the second he settles them and you force yourself to take deep breaths as he glances at his watch, counting the beats there.  You idly consider that you’ve never seen him wear a watch before, and you have no doubt it’s for your benefit, to allow him to perform your exam manually.  You’re incredibly touched by the concessions he’s making for you and you unconsciously find yourself feeling more at ease as the seconds tick by

“Your heart rate’s coming down, darlin’,” Leonard shares.  “That’s great.  Let’s check your blood pressure.  Have you ever had it done manually?”

You shake your head and watch him as he pulls something you’ve never seen before out of his kit.  As he disentangles a few tubes from one another, you realize that one of the items is some sort of a manometer not unlike the ones you use in engineering.

“I’m going to wrap this cuff around your arm,” he explains.  “I’ll squeeze this bulb, which will fill the cuff with air to compress your brachial artery.  I’ll press the flat part of the stethoscope to your arm and I’ll be able to listen for the beats as I let the air out and blood flow returns to the artery, which will tell me what your blood pressure is.”

“Will it hurt?”  You ask.

Leonard shakes his head, reaching out tentatively to take your arm, waiting for you to relax before starting to apply the cuff.

“Not at all,” he replies.  “It’ll be uncomfortable, but only for a few seconds.”

You nod warily, lying still but stiff throughout the procedure.  It’s not as bad as you’d thought it would be, but you’re still happy when he unravels the cuff from your arm again.  You rub the chilled skin of your upper arm as he puts it away and regard him when he looks back at you.

“Your blood pressure’s elevated,” he says lightly.  “Which I expected.  I’m not worried about it, and I’m sure over time it’ll normalize once we get you more accustomed to all of this.”

As he speaks, he holds up an instrument he’d mentioned before – a stethoscope, if memory serves – and gestures to your chest.

“This stethoscope lets me do what tricorders have had us doctors taking for granted for years,” he explains.  “It lets me listen to your heartbeat and your breathing to make sure that everything sounds alright.  A sensor on a tricorder could assess that in the space of half a second and give me a readout, but this is more personal and you’ve done so well so far that I think we might as well finish up this way.”

You smile as he speaks and you agree wordlessly.  You’re amazed to find, when you stop and consider yourself for a moment, that you’re feeling better than you’ve ever felt with a doctor before, and you almost let a slightly hysterical giggle burst out of you, suppressing it just in time, flashing Leonard a grin instead.

You’re much more relaxed now as he slips the instrument on and snakes a hand up beneath the hem of your shirt, pressing the disc of the stethoscope to your chest.  You breathe in and out as he asks you to, enduring the remainder of the exam easily.  As he pulls away at last, he’s smiling down at you, love and pride shining in his eyes.

“You did great, Y/N,” he says warmly, setting the stethoscope aside.  “Your heart rate even seems to have come down to more normal levels.  You did really well, and you’re fit as a fiddle.”

You laugh softly, rolling your eyes at the clichéd expression.  You’re still relaxed even as he picks up a tricorder and holds it out, not activating it just yet but rather giving you a chance to get used to it.

“One last scan and you’re off the hook,” he says softly.  “Just lie still for a few seconds and try closing your eyes.”

“I’m okay,” you admit aloud for the first time.  “It’s okay.  Go ahead.”

Leonard is impressed by your show of conviction and he proceeds, alternating between looking at the tricorder’s display and your face as he waves it over your body.  He’s right – it only takes him a few seconds to finish up and when he does, his warm, kind expression is all the reassurance you need to let you know you’re fine.

“I’m so proud of you,” Leonard murmurs as he puts his instruments away.  “You were a fantastic patient, darlin’.  You did so well, and maybe it’s not my place to say, but I think you overcame some fears today.”

You blush a little at his praise but you nod anyway, shifting so that you can sit up, still wincing a bit at the biting pain of the bruise on your midsection.  Shifting so that you’re closer to him, you wrap your arms around him and pull him in for a hug, clinging perhaps a bit too forcefully as he pats your back, wheezing a little at the strength of your embrace.

“Sorry,” you squeak, pulling away and looking up at him sheepishly.  “I get a little clingy when I’m emotional.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart,” he chides you softly.  “You’ve felt a lot of different things today, but you got through it, and I promise I’ll be here to help you get through it again and again, and to make it as easy on you as possible every time.”

Words are failing you as you come down from the day’s adrenaline high and you simply nod, trusting Leonard to understand the magnitude of your gratitude.  You look down, still feeling vulnerable and just a little bit silly for being so reactive, and bless his heart, the doctor allows you your space.  He’s got a heart of gold and an uncanny perceptiveness, and he’s simultaneously the man of your dreams and nightmares.

“Maybe it’s rushing things,” he begins to speak again, his hand coming to rest on your knee, stroking it gently through your pajamas.  “But I think it might help you form more positive associations with the med bay if you spend some time down there with me.  Not as a patient, but just on lunch breaks, or while you’re preparing reports for Mr. Scott.  You can sit on the couch in my office, or a chair behind the central desk.  You can get used to the sights and sounds, the smells, and maybe over time it won’t feel so overwhelming.”

You consider his words.  Right now, the thought of what he’s proposing feels both overwhelming and doable, and you’re not sure which way you’re leaning.  He’s right, though, and you gird yourself, setting your resolve as you look up at him once more, using his belief in you to fuel your courage.

“Okay,” you agree.  “I think I can handle that.”

“I know you can,” Leonard says reassuringly.  “Now lie back, let me take care of that bruise.

You relax back into your pillow again as he pulls out a small pot of salve.  As he gently rubs the medication into your skin, a pleasant numbness spreads over the affected area and you find yourself nearly dozing off.  For the first time since the start of the whole ordeal  you feel at peace, and you’re confident that Leonard’s compassion and kindness will help to dispel the nightmares you’ve been plagued with, giving you the chance to rest easy again.  You know it probably won’t last forever, and that you’re likely to have ups and downs as you work to overcome your anxieties all together, but you’re not alone and you take solace in that.  Leonard cares for you and more than that, he understands, and that’s more than you could ever have hoped for.

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[kinkykinard]

X is for Xenopolycythemia (24/26)

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS). Pairing:  ReaderXBones. Prompt: Fic 24 of 26 in the CMO’s Log – A to Z series.  Click here for a listing of all the fics in this series!  X is for Xenopolycythemia Word Count: 5703. Warnings: None. Rating: Teen+. Author’s Note: Requested by @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse – Xenopolycythemia appeared in TOS (S03E10 “For the World is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky”).  It is not a real illness, but features many of the same symptoms as polycythemia.  In this condition, the body begins overproducing red blood cells, leading to all sorts of problems.  Enjoy!

X is for Xenopolycythemia You watch Leonard from across the room, leaning on the desk to chart while he finishes up talking to a patient.  You’re concerned about him; he hasn’t been himself all morning, he’s flushed and looking like he’s coming down with something, and while you’ve given him a chance to admit that something is wrong, you can’t stand by and watch anymore. As he leaves the ensign’s bedside and heads for his office, you pick up your PADD and beeline off after him, following him through the door before it manages to slide closed all the way.  He jumps, clearly startled at your proximity as he turns to face you and looks down at you from his lofty height. “Can I help you?”  He asks, quirking an eyebrow. Up close, you can see that he’s got a fine sheen of perspiration on his forehead.  He’s breathing a bit quickly and he’s hunched a little – not enough to be immediately noticeable, but he’s definitely not standing at his full height. Reaching out, you gently touch his cheek, cupping his face in your hand. “Yeah,” you reply.  “You can let me help you.”

“I’m fine,” he says firmly.

It’s his insistence that assures you your hunch is right – there’s something wrong and he doesn’t want to admit it. If he was fine he’d be questioning you, not outright shutting you down.  You shake your head, stroking your thumb over his cheekbone. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll just have to figure it out for myself,” you say with a sigh.  “I may not be as brilliant as you, but I am still a doctor.” Leonard rolls his eyes and reaches up, running his fingers through your hair.  At first you’re sure it’s to distract you, but his expression is softer when you look more closely and his wry smile is telling of the fact that you’ve won. “Alright,” he says with a nod.  “You’re right.  I’ll let you take a look at the end of the shift.  We’ve only got another couple of hours.  I’ll be fine until then.” You’re less than pleased, but you accept his compromise with a nod.   “Deal,” you say with a smile, stepping up onto your tip toes to kiss him.  “I’ll be expecting you in room three at eighteen-hundred hours.” “Yes ma’am,” Leonard murmurs, returning your smile with a faint one of his own. You step back, giving him some space to get back to what he was doing before you’d interrupted him and then turn on your heel, striding out of his office.  You throw yourself into the appointments you have booked over the next couple of hours, performing physicals and follow ups until the end of the shift rolls around.  When the next round of doctors and nurses show up, you hand off your report and turn around, looking for Leonard, just in time to see the CMO step into the preselected exam room. You give him a few moments to settle in and prepare for you, knowing that he hates getting medical attention almost as much as everyone else does (if not more so sometimes), and then you head for the exam room.  You rap on the door, giving him a second to collect himself, and then step inside, letting the door glide shut behind you.  Depositing your PADD on the counter, you walk closer to him, fingering the tricorder in your pocket. “What’s going on, Lee?”  You ask, your eyes taking in the deep red flush of his cheeks and the air of complete exhaustion he’s exuding. He coughs a couple of times, bringing up his arm to cover his mouth so he’s not exposing you to whatever he has unnecessarily. You frown, reaching up to gently cup his cheek and feeling surprised when you don’t sense the heat of a fever radiating off of him. “It’s probably just a cold,” he rationalizes, shaking himself off after the cough. “I doubt it,” you disagree.  “You don’t feel feverish.” Pulling your hand away from his face, you take his hands instead, gasping at how cold and clammy his palms are. Bringing his hands up closer for inspection, you notice the duskiness of the skin at his nail beds.  Furrowing your eyebrows, you set his hands down in his lap and look up just in time to see him sway dizzily.  Setting a hand on his shoulder to steady him, your expression grim, you touch his wrist to check his pulse. “Any pain anywhere?”  You query, glancing at the bio bed’s read out to corroborate what you’re feeling with what the machine is telling you. “Left upper quadrant,” he replies.  “It could be mono.” You roll your eyes. “Have you been kissing someone else and not telling me, Dr. McCoy?”  You tease. It’s his turn to give you a wry look as he starts to go on about how kissing disease is a stupid moniker and how there are dozens of ways to pick up the Epstein-Barr virus but you silence him with an order. “Lie down,” you instruct with authority, leaving him no room to argue. “This really isn’t necessary, Y/N,” he tries anyway while doing as you’ve asked.  “I’m sure it's just a virus.” “Self-diagnosis is highly frowned upon, doctor,” you admonish him as you step up to his side, slipping a hand beneath his tunic and gently palpating his abdomen.  “I would have thought you knew better.  Any pain here?” He shakes his head as you press on all the quadrants aside from the one he’s indicated.  You watch his face closely as you finally apply pressure to the left upper side and give him an apologetic look as he recoils, guarding the sore spot unconsciously.  You palpate a little more deeply a couple of times and then remove your hand, resting it on his thigh and stroking there gently. “Your spleen’s enlarged,” you say pointedly. “Let’s run some scans.” Leonard’s sigh is not lost on you.  You pull out your tricorder and slowly wave it over his body from head to toe, ensuring that you’re not missing anything. You frown at the readings, running the scans again just to be sure. “You’ve already had xenopolycythemia, right?” You ask him, staring at the readout. “Yeah,” he replies.  “Why?  What’d you find?” He props himself up on his elbows, craning his head in an attempt to look at your tricorder. “Your hematocrit’s over sixty,” you murmur.   “Given your history I might suspect a flare up, but you were cured, weren’t you?  You shouldn’t be relapsing.” Sitting up all the way, Leonard swings his legs over the edge of the bed and takes the tricorder from your hands, getting a better look at the screen.  Cursing under his breath, he sets the instrument down and runs a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t make sense,” he sputters.  “I have antibodies to the virus now.  I shouldn’t relapse, let alone so soon. It’s only been a couple of years.” You reach out, putting a hand on Leonard’s shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly.   “I’ll take some blood,” you insist. “We’ll run some scans and go from there.” Leonard nods, already holding out his arm though you’re only just gathering the supplies you need.  It doesn’t take you long to set up and within a few minutes, you’re drawing the necessary vials of blood and securing a cotton ball over the needle stick with a piece of tape. “I’m going to go and run a few tests on these,” you explain, finishing up.  “I’ll be back soon to run a full body scan to look for the beginnings of any emboli.” He looks like he wants to argue and follow you to the lab instead, but he refrains. “Just try to relax in the meantime,” you say softly.  “I know you’re not very good at it, but the last thing you need is to drive your blood pressure up and stroke out.” Leonard rolls his eyes at you but complies, lying back on the bio bed as you rush off to run some tests.  You drop three of the vials of blood off for routine testing, and keep the fourth one in hand, inverting it every few seconds to distribute the anticoagulant inside of it as you carry it to the xenobiology lab. Fifteen minutes later, after the biology wizards have had their fun, you make your way back toward the med bay, somewhat troubled by their findings.  You stop by the nurses’ desk, quickly checking the results of Leonard’s remaining blood work on your PADD and breathing a sigh of relief that at least everything else looks fine.  Pushing the PADD aside, you head back into Leonard’s room, earning yourself an immediate turn of the head from the other doctor as you enter and approach his bedside. “What is it?”  Leonard asks, aware of your puzzlement already. You curse his perception inwardly and try to rearrange your expression into one less dire. “You’ve got a new strain of the virus,” you say briefly, sparing him the details.  “You’re not relapsing, you’ve got a whole new disease with the same symptomology.” Leonard curses aloud, showing no further sign of his frustration aside from a slight quickening of his heart rate.  As he considers what the diagnosis means, you busy yourself with preparing a hypo for him, hoping that the cure for the original virus would be effective on this one, too.   With the hypo in hand, you return to Leonard’s beside and hold it up, wordlessly asking for his consent to administer the medication.  He gladly exposes his neck for the shot and doesn’t even flinch with the injection. You glance at the chron as you step away and enter his treatment details into your PADD before facing him once more. “Now, we wait,” you say softly. “I’ve never been very good at that,” Leonard grumbles. You chuckle and nod. “Don’t I know it,” you agree.  “Get some rest, Lee.  I’ll come check on you in a half hour, see if your crit’s come down yet.” The half hour flies by in the blink of an eye, and a follow up check of his blood count shows that his hematocrit hasn’t come down.  It hasn’t increased much, either, which is a good sign, but that isn’t much of a consolation to Leonard when you tell him what’s going on. Two more hours pass by, with hourly checks showing no change in his condition.  Flummoxed, you lean against the counter opposite the bio bed he’s propped up on and cross your arms over your chest. “It’s evolved a resistance to the treatment,” you offer.  “The medication doesn’t seem to be doing it.” “Why don’t we try another dose?”  Leonard suggests, but you immediately shake your head. “The side effects might worsen, possibly catastrophically, and I doubt we’ll see any improvement,” you explain.  “I’m going to treat you the old-fashioned way until someone in the lab can figure out how to kill this thing.  Mr. Spock is quite knowledgeable about all of this, if I remember correctly – I’ll have him give the team a hand.” Leonard groans and nods, lying down once again and pulling his sleeve up as high as it’ll go.  The only way to keep him stable until you find a cure is to draw off a pint of blood or two to decrease his red blood cell count and prevent problematic blood clotting, and so you assemble a phlebotomy kit, setting it down at his side. The set up takes you less than two minutes, and before long you’ve got an IV line inserted and taped into place.  You hook the line up to a blood bag and hang it below the level of his heart, watching blood slowly trickle into it and scanning him with your tricorder to keep an eye on his blood count.  You’re relieved to see it coming down after you’d drained a pint of blood and once you’re satisfied with where his levels are at, you stop the treatment all together. “Listen,” Leonard begins as you disconnect the set up.  “If we can’t find a cure, there are some things I want you to do for me.” You hold up a hand to stop him as you dispose of the phlebotomy kit. “We’ll find one,” you promise.  “And even if we don’t, we have a year to talk about all of that.” You’re fighting to keep your voice from cracking as you speak, and you shake your head as Leonard tries to get another word in.  You can see the echo of the pain and uncertainty in his eyes from the last time he was sick, and for the first time you find yourself wondering whether there’s more to the story than what you’ve seen in his medical chanrts. “Please,” you say quietly.  “I can’t focus on finding a cure right now with you talking like that.  Let’s have this discussion later.  Your vitals are good and the draw should hold you for a while, so I’ll let you head back to your quarters.  I’m going to head over to the lab to check on things.  I’ll be up soon and then we can talk.” You move toward him and press a gentle, chaste kiss to his lips, squeezing his shoulder once more before turning to make your way out of the room.  You’re not very good at processing big feelings, and you make haste so that you don’t break down.  You don’t have time to break down when his life is at risk. Rushing down to the biology lab, you find they’ve made no progress.  You stay for an hour in hopes that your presence might be some kind of a boon, a good luck charm, but nothing changes.  Reluctantly, not ready to face your feelings, you head up to your room. You run a hand through your hair, exhaustion claiming you and making your stomach turn.   A wave of dizziness washes over you as you enter your access code into the keypad outside of Leonard’s room and you take a steadying breath before stepping inside.  You’re not in the least bit surprised to find Leonard sitting on the couch and watching the door intently; he’s clearly been waiting for you. Letting the door slide shut behind you, you step forward slowly and make your way over to him.  You deposit your PADD and tricorder on the table and take a seat opposite him, searching your brain for the right words to say. “Tell me about last time,” you urge at last. “I can’t even imagine how scary it was, getting that diagnosis.” Leonard nods, reaching out to spear his fingers in between yours, entangling your hands in the space between you. “I was still trying to pick up the pieces after Jocelyn,” he explains.  “I got the news and I was scared of facing it alone.  Of dying alone.  We went on a mission and I had a lapse in judgment – I got married to a woman who was living on borrowed time, too, in a way.  When I look back on it, I realize how stupid it was, and how impulsive, but at the time, with all the grief, the anger, the fear – it made sense.  I’ll tell you the whole story some time, but this isn’t the time or place.  It’s irrelevant now, anyway; this time, I’m not facing this alone.” You smile sadly and watch Leonard’s expression fall, if possible, even more. “I’m sorry, darlin’,” he says quietly. Your eyes widen and your lips part in surprise at his words – they’re definitely not what you were expecting. “What for, Lee?”  You ask.  “For being sick?  For being mortal?” You shake your head, inching closer to him, reaching up to gently cup his cheek. “Don’t apologize, Lee,” you rebuke softly. “I’d find some reason or other to worry about you, regardless, and this isn’t goodbye.  It’s not.” You lean in slowly and press your lips to his, cutting off whatever he was going to say.  The kiss is chaste but comforting, and you pull away moments later with a smile.  The smile falters for a split second as you feel an ache in your abdomen and you curse inwardly as you realize your wince isn’t lost on Leonard. “This new strain,” he begins, his tone grave. “How virulent is it?” You shake your head, immediately wanting to deny what he’s getting at, but you realize that you can’t. “I don’t know,” you supply. “Lie back,” Leonard instructs you, all affection gone from his demeanor, replaced by worry and a physician’s cool countenance. Now your mind is racing with the implications of his condition, not just the emotional ramifications.  You do as he asks, sitting back against the couch cushions and slumping down a little.  His hand lands on your abdomen and palpates around gently, eliciting tenderness in the left upper quadrant.  His facial expression says it all. “Scan me,” you say resignedly.   Leonard wastes no time in reaching for the tricorder you’d deposited on the table earlier and he activates it, waving it over you.  You already know what it’s going to say, and your mind is reeling with the protocols you’re going to have to activate now that the xenopolycythemia has been transmitted so easily. “We need to get you to medical,” Leonard insists, setting the tricorder aside again. You nod. “Quarantine,” the two of you say in sync. “Everyone on board needs to be scanned,” you add. Leonard’s expression is grim. “I’ll call Jim as we walk,” he states. “Let’s go.” Fifteen minutes later, the two of you are behind the isolation partition in the med bay, the negative pressure in the room keeping the flow of air from mixing back in with the airflow going to the rest of the ship.  M’Benga is handling arranging screenings for the rest of the crew while you and Leonard monitor and take care of one another.  You’re both still fully capable of doing your jobs, you just can’t be exposed to anyone else until more is known about the virus.   The captain is, understandably, out of sorts. “Dr. M’Benga is changing the schedule around a little bit to account for your indispositions until we figure things out,” he explains, his voice strained.  “The folks in biology are working on it – we’ll have you two cured in no time.  Rumor has it they can build a new molecule using the old cure as a base.  They think it’ll work, it’ll just take some time.” Neither you nor Leonard need him to say the rest of what he’s thinking aloud. “We have time,” you assure the captain. “We’ve got it under control.” You can tell he’s not convinced, even after Leonard promises him that things will be fine, but he takes his leave nevertheless.  The two of you are left alone in isolation, lying around, waiting, scanning one another every hour to monitor the disease’s progression.   Four days pass by incredibly slowly and largely uneventfully.  The mutated virus causes your respective hematocrits to rise much more quickly than the original virus and so you’re stuck undergoing phlebotomies daily to keep your symptoms in check.  Thankfully, a thorough check of everyone on board has revealed that no one else is sick, and an environmental scan has shown the virus is not airborne – you must have caught it when you’d kissed Leonard. The two of you deal with a lot of feelings throughout the four days.  Both of you cycle through anger, fear, uncertainty, and everything in between.  You used to think that grief came in stages, in a certain order to those who had lost someone, but facing your own mortality – and Leonard’s – was showing you that grief comes in many forms, and it’s hardly predictable.  You break down, crying and wondering what you’re going to tell your family as Leonard’s strong arms hold you and he makes promises that he can’t keep about how you’ll be okay, everything will be okay.  Leonard breaks down, too, but not to your face.  You can hear him, though, late at night in the bathroom after he thinks you’ve gone to sleep.  You want to go to him, but you resist; he’s an intensely personal man and you know that he’ll come to you when he’s ready. About half way through the fifth day, just as Leonard is waving a tricorder around you for the hundredth time since the start of the ordeal, a knock on the glass outside of the exam room gets both of your attentions.  Leonard sets the tricorder down and steps out of the room.  He isn’t gone three seconds before he’s poking his head back in, gesturing for you to follow him. You hop down from the bio bed and make your way out of the exam room, finding the captain and Dr. M’Benga waiting for the two of you on the other side of the partition.  The doctor is holding a couple of hypo vials in one hand and smiling, and you know even before he makes the announcement that they’ve found the cure. “It’s not without side effects,” Dr. M’Benga warns.  “But we anticipate that it will be effective.” “Thanks, Geoff,” Leonard says with a relieved smile.  “We’ll keep you informed.” The other doctor nods. “I’d recommend taking it one at a time,” M’Benga offers.  “Just in case the side effects require intervention.  If you need backup, just call and I’ll get gowned up and join you.” The two of you exchange determined glances and then look back at Geoff. “Will do,” you assert. Geoff drops the vials into a delivery slot in the partition and departs with the captain in tow.  You pluck them out in return and turn them over in your hands, staring at the amber liquid therein.  You look over at Leonard who is similarly inspecting the vials and smile. “Let’s do this,” you say determinedly.   “After you,” Leonard insists, gesturing to the exam room the two of you had recently vacated. You step inside but refrain from getting up onto the bio bed.  You hover nervously, torn between wanting to go first to spare Leonard the same fear you were facing over how your body would react to the cure and wanting him to go first so you would be prepared for whatever eventuality.  He joins you, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’ll go first, darlin’,” he says softly, moving to take a step forward. Reaching out, you grab hold of his shirt and hold him back, shaking your head. “No,” you say with certainty, though your voice wavers a little.  “It’s fine. I can do this.  Side effects or not, it’ll all be over soon, right?” The other doctor nods and leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Don’t be scared,” he reassures you. “I’ll take care of you.  I won’t let anything bad happen.” You nod and take a deep, steadying breath, stepping around him to climb onto the bio bed.  You lie back and rest your arms by your sides, closing your eyes and tipping your head up to receive the medication.  You listen carefully to the mechanical clicking noises as Leonard loads one of the vials into a hypo spray and to his footsteps as they approach your side. “A little pinch here, darlin’,” he explains, pressing the hypo to your neck and injecting its contents. The serum burns like liquid fire as it seeps into your muscles and slips into your veins.  Each pump of your heart sends the medication further, faster, causing the heat to spread throughout your core and limbs.  You shut your eyes tightly against the sensation and find yourself breathing hard, attempting to relax against the assault.  Leonard is taking your hand in an instant, mere seconds after the injection, and you can tell he’s noticed your state of discomfort. “Talk to me, darlin’,” he says, his voice firm but reassuring at the same time.  “Tell me what you’re feeling.” “Hurts,” you croak, licking your lips. “I’m hot.” You don’t have to look at him to know he’s carefully observing your vital signs as he comforts you, reaching up to stroke your hair as a sheen of perspiration wells up across your forehead.  You know things are quickly becoming critical as you start to tremble violently and your heart begins to feel like it’s trying to beat out of your chest. “I’m going to give you something for the pain,” Leonard states, letting go of your hand so he can retrieve another hypo. “No!”  You call, opening your eyes and looking over at him, tears leaving tracks on your temples as they run into your hair.  “I-I don’t want anything to interact.” Leonard curses under his breath, returning to your side to take your hand again, his other palm landing on your hip and stroking there softly. “Fine,” he agrees.  “But if your heart rate keeps climbing, I’m going to have to intervene.  You’re at one-thirty as it is.” You nod, attempting to normalize it a little bit by taking a few deep breaths, but even your lungs feel like they’re on fire. You grit your teeth, focusing on the feeling of Leonard’s hand on your hip, girding yourself to get through the agony for however long it lasts. And that it does for the next three hours. You’re so used to the pain that when it finally wears off, you hardly notice at first.  The residual flaring in your nerve endings has you occupied until Leonard speaks, squeezing your hand to get your full attention. “Your vitals are stabilizing,” he states. “Let’s run a scan and see where you’re at.” You lie still as he runs the tricorder over your body, watching his face for any clues to your condition.  His expression is serious, as usual, but not unduly so and you relax a fraction as he looks up at you, his features brightening into a grin. “I can’t find any traces of the virus,” he explains.  “And your hematocrit’s stabilized; looks like you’re cured, sweetheart.  One more phlebotomy and you’re out of the woods.” A soft laugh bubbles out of you and you groan as you prop yourself up onto your elbows.  Leonard’s hand lands on your shoulder and he attempts to push you back down to rest but you shake him off, grabbing his arm instead and using it as leverage to pull yourself up into a sitting position. “I’m fine, Lee,” you murmur.  “Tired, but fine.  It’s time to load you up.” You slip down from the bio bed, ignoring the shrill chirping that indicates it has lost a signal, and gesture for Leonard to take your place.  He does so swiftly and before long you’ve got a hypo at the ready for him.  Before you administer the medication, you give him a quick scan, mentally noting his significantly elevated red blood cell count, and taking heed of his vitals, too.  As you finish up, you look down at him from his bedside, laying your hand gently on his cheek and smoothing your thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride,” you warn. “But it won’t be for long.  Just try to relax.” Leonard wordlessly nods his consent and allows you to inject him with the serum.  You quickly realize that experiencing the serum as a bystander is just as horrible as it was feeling it working in your own body.  You watch Leonard’s skin flush, his muscles bunch, and his eyes shut tightly as the burning begins.  It’s your turn to worry now as his blood pressure and heart rate soar while the cure ravages his body, the agony an ugly side effect of its battle against the virus holding the two of you hostage. You sit at his bedside, carding the fingers of one hand through his hair, holding one of his hands with the other, murmuring soft words of encouragement as he breathes in sharp gasps occasionally punctuated by groans.  Like clockwork, three hours later, his vitals begin to level out and you realize he’s overcome the fight just like you had. “You did great,” you whisper softly, picking up your tricorder.  “Hold still for me.” You don’t realize that you’ve been holding your breath until you feel all of the air leave your lungs in a rush when his hematocrit pops up on the screen.   “Stable,” you muse aloud.  “Thank the stars, Lee; it worked!” He smiles weakly, groaning as he shifts around and moves to sit up.  You offer him a hand, your strength having returned in the hours you’d spent watching him, and he’s sitting up and facing you within moments.  You move to stand between his legs, stepping up on your tip toes to press a kiss to his lips and you shiver as his hands comes to rest on either side of your neck. You pour all of your passion in the kiss: a passion that’s been pent up, locked away behind grief and fear and questions of when.  Your hands land on Leonard’s hips and you slowly slide them higher, beneath his shirt, splaying your palms on his skin and drinking him in as your breath begins to come more quickly.  His hands wander into your hair, tugging on it, creating a perfect contrast of delicious pain to the pleasure his lips are giving you. The kiss lasts until you’re both completely breathless.  The monitors are screaming as the bio bed registers Leonard’s elevated heart rate and you reach over blindly toward the console, shutting the whole thing down. In the peace and quiet that follows, you catch your breath and pull away just enough to look up at Leonard.  He’s smiling down at you. “Let’s go talk to M’Benga,” he suggests. “The sooner he clears us, the sooner we can get out of here and get on with our lives.” You nod and hold out a hand to him, stepping aside as he hops off of the bed.  You keep his hand clasped in yours as the two of you make your way back to the front of the isolation quarters.  You’re still latched on when Leonard comms Geoff and the other doctor arrives, smiling at the two of you. “Good news, I trust?”  He says, beaming. The two of you nod in unison. “A couple of side effects, but nothing catastrophic,” Leonard explains.  “Both of our crits are down in the 40s after treatment.  They were in the low sixties this morning.” “That’s great!”  Dr. M’Benga exclaims, glancing over his shoulder as he hears a noise behind him, realizing the captain is approaching. “You two look a lot better than you did this morning,” he says with a chipper grin.  “I take it the crisis has been averted?” “Aye, Captain,” you assure him.  “Looks like we’re in the clear.” “Great!”  He says brightly.  “Join me for dinner; we can celebrate!” “Not so fast,” Dr. M’Benga chimes in.  “I’d like to keep them in isolation for another day or two, just to be sure the pathogen has been eradicated and not just become dormant.” He turns his attention to the two of you as your expressions fall at the thought of being locked up even longer. “I’d like for you two to draw some bloods,” he instructs.  “The lab can confirm that the virus has been eradicated.  I’d like you both to have complete physicals to ensure no damage has been done, and I’d like to monitor you both once daily for another week, or longer as needed.  It’s probably being over-cautious, but I’d rather not risk anything.” You groan inwardly but you can admit he’s right.  You nod, looking up at Leonard with a smile. “I think we can handle that,” you agree, exchanging a glance with your boyfriend.  “What’s another day, right?” Jim laughs, getting your attention. “Get some rest while you have the chance,” he says with a wink.  “I want you two right back at your posts as soon as Dr. M’Benga gives you the all-clear. Now, I’ve got to get back to the bridge. I’ll see you soon.” He turns on his heel and makes his way off, pausing and glancing over his shoulder, a genuine smile on his face, relief in his eyes. “I’m glad you two are okay,” he says softly. “Don’t know what I would’ve done without my two best doctors.” You watch him beat a hasty retreat after the little slip up of sentiment and bid Dr. M’Benga a farewell, too.  Once he’s gone, the two of you head back to the exam room you’d taken your cures in.  It doesn’t take you long to draw bloods and you clean up the equipment you’d used as Leonard goes to deliver the vials for pick up. Returning to the inpatient room where you and Leonard had been sleeping for the duration of your quarantine, you make your way to the bed you’ve been sharing where Leonard is waiting, an unspoken we’ll worry about everything else tomorrow passing between the two of you. It's getting late and you’re both exhausted, not only after the day’s events, but after the whole ordeal.  Leonard gestures for you to climb into bed and once you’re settled he follows.  You sigh contentedly, tucking yourself in against his side, resting your head on his chest so you can hear his steady heartbeat beneath your ear.  You know that even though you’re in the clear, there’s a lot the two of you need to talk about if you’re going to have a future together.  For now, however, all you want it so be able to sleep without thoughts of your own mortality, and Leonard’s, hanging over your head. “Let’s forget this ever happened,” you murmur sleepily. “Deal,” Leonard says softly, reaching out with his free hand to pull a couple of blankets up to cover the two of you.  “Get some sleep, darlin’.  Sweet dreams.” “Mmm, your heartbeat’s like a lullaby,” you sigh, snuggling into his chest for emphasis.  “G’night, Lee.” “Goodnight, Y/N,” he replies, pressing a kiss into your hair, drifting off into dream land right alongside you.

@whatsthematterwithamelia @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @earinafae @feelmyroarrrr @starshiphufflebadger @trekken81 @fandomheadrush @yourtropegirl @theonlyparadox @musingsongbird @ababyinatrenchcoat @arrowsshootyouforwards @alluramc @medicatemedrmccoy @the-alpha-otter @gerardnot-gerald

Graphic by @wonders-of-the-enterprise

[kinkykinard]

Finding Home

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS). Pairing:  ReaderXBones. Prompt: Requested by Anon – reader is triggered by something and breaks down, and Bones is there to comfort them. Word Count: 3619. Warnings: anxiety, panic attack. Rating: Teen+. Author’s Note: Being triggered into a full-blown panic attack is something I would not wish on even my worst enemies.  I know there are a lot of you out there who have anxieties, past traumas haunting you, and PTSD.  It’s so hard to deal with.  If you ever, EVER need to talk, I’m always here to listen.  Shout out to @starshiphufflebadger for helping inspire me for this fic, too!  The actual trigger and situation preceding it were her ideas.  Flashbacks in the story are denoted in italics.

Finding Home You’re sitting across the table from Leonard in the mess hall, picking at your replicated dinner as the two of you engage in small talk about your respective days.  You roll your eyes as he goes off on a rant about the red-shirts again, and you gently remind him that his job would be awfully boring if the operations crew never got themselves injured.  He reluctantly agrees and falls silent, letting you go on about your work in the geology lab instead. “So there used to be an ocean there?” the doctor asks, turning the facts you’ve given him over in his mind. You smile as he makes the connection and feel a flush of pride for him – he’s clearly been listening to you when you’ve talked about work, whereas most people tune you out as you bore them to tears. “Right,” you say with a nod.  “You remembered that pale-colored sediments are indicative of deposition and lithification in anoxic environments! It’s so nice to know that someone actually listens to me sometimes.”

He grins at you and takes a bite of his dessert: peach cobbler, his favorite. “You’ve got a lot of interesting things to say, darlin’,” he says with a wink.  “Some people just refuse to be educated.” You blush at his words, the compliment warming you, the unspoken acknowledgment of your brilliance making you feel giddy. You’re just wondering how to reply to his words when a sudden, high-pitched deafening noise fills your ears. Dropping your utensils, you clasp your hands over your ears to drown out some of the noise, glancing around frantically. Moments later, a bright, strobing, red and white light joins the fray, overwhelming your vision.  You feel your chest tighten reflexively, putting your heart and lungs in a vice as panic suddenly overwhelms you.  The fire alarm brings you immediately back to the worst night of your life and the panic of those around you fades into the background as your own anxiety paralyzes you. You’re eight years old.  You’re in the back seat of your parents’ car with your twin sister, on your way home from dinner with some friends in the next town over. It’s pitch black and just below freezing outside.  A torrential rain is pounding on the roof of the car and ice is beginning to form on the road.  The lights on the highway are few and far between, and you hear your dad mention something about it getting really slippery. The next thing you know, the inside of the car is illuminated in bright white by the headlights of a transport truck barreling toward your car, out of control.  You hear screaming and a colossal crunching noise, and the last thing you remember is pain as your seat belt bites into your chest and belly, holding you in place as the car is thrown off of the road and rolls down a steep hillside before coming to a rest at the bottom of the slope. You’re crying, scared and confused as bright red and white lights flash in the night around you – ambulance lights illuminating the tree tops overhead as you’re carried up the slope your car had rolled down by paramedics, strapped to a hard board of some kind and unable to move. One of the men is trying to reassure you, but he won’t tell you where your mom, dad, or sister are and it’s terrifying you. Two days later, you wake up in a hospital with a doctor standing over you, examining what you quickly realize is a cast on your leg that covers from your toes to the top of your thigh.  One of your arms is in a cast, too, and everything hurts.  You’re crying as the doctor finishes his exam, begging for your mom and dad. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” the doctor says gently, putting a hand on your shoulder.  “They were hurt very badly in the accident.  We did everything we could, but we couldn’t save them. They’re gone.” Your sister is gone, too, you find out moments later.  There’s no one left but you.  You’re alone – completely and utterly – and the last memory you have of your family is that of their screams and their faces, contorted in  of panic, illuminated by the lights of that transport truck. “Y/N!”  A familiar voice calls over the din of the fire alarm.  “Talk to me, sweetheart!” Your chest constricts even more at the term on endearment – the same one the doctor had used when he’d broken the news to you all those years ago – and all you can do is drag in ragged, shallow breaths as a strong pair of hands grips your shoulders.  You can’t see through your tears and your head is swimming, dizziness and a gnawing physical agony drawing you closer and closer to passing out with each moment. “Come on, we need to move,” the voice beckons again.  “I’ve got you.” Recognition breaks through the fog of sheer panic that’s blanketing you – the voice belongs to Leonard McCoy.  You fight to control your breathing as the flashbacks continue, throwing you back into the fray of the emotions you felt on the day you lost your family, the acuity of the feelings erasing the years that have passed in which you’ve had time to grieve and freshening the pain. You’re too breathless to even yelp as you’re swept off of your feet and carried out of the mess hall in Dr. McCoy’s arms. He’s speaking to you, trying to break through your panic, but to no avail.  You cling to him desperately, your chest heaving as he joins the queue of people calmly leaving the mess hall to get to their assigned muster points.  Everyone is moving quickly and in an orderly fashion, and it doesn’t take long for the doctor to carry you out of the mess and into the hallway.  Unfortunately, it’s more of the same thing and in an even smaller space, and your grip on Leonard tightens as the sensory overload drives your panic further. You’re burying your head in his chest, trying to calm the assault on your senses, and you don’t even notice that he’s barking at people to get out of his way, citing a medical emergency.  He rushes you to the nearest muster point, holding you to his chest and wishing he could get you somewhere private and secure but knowing he needs to stay put until the alert is called off.  He murmurs to you softly, but loudly enough that you can hear him over the din. Seconds stretch into minutes and you feel like you’re on the verge of passing out.  Eventually, though, the lights stop flashing and the normal bright-whites at the top of the corridor come back on.  The sirens stop blaring and an announcement by the chief of engineering, Mr. Scott himself, comes on overhead. “Sorry ‘bout tha’, folks!  Mandatory fire drill.  Well done – you can all carry on with your day now.” The doctor swears under his breath as he turns with you still in his arms, immediately striding toward med bay. “Hold on, darlin’,” he reassures you.  “I’ll give you something to help calm you down right away, just try to breathe for me.” “No!”  You cry weakly, pulling harder on his tunic.  “I don’t w-want to go to medical.  Please!” Your anxiety and desperation push him in the opposite direction and against his better judgment.  He brings you to the turbo lift instead, still pushing through crowds of crew members milling about in the wake of the fire drill.  Those standing in front of the doors part to let the two of you through and the doors slide closed in your wake, leaving you alone in the lift. “I’m taking you back to my room, sweetheart,” the doctor promises.  “But you’re going to have to work with me to control your breathing, okay?  Can you please try that?” By way of response, you attempt to drag in a breath.  It’s probably a good sign that you’re able to focus on his words even a little bit, but the little spark of good is lost in a sea of grief and anxiety and you only get so far as to take a slightly deeper breath in, holding it as the lift stops on your floor. You hold it, your body beginning to tremble from the lack of oxygen, until you can’t bear it anymore and then you breathe out in a rush, sawing another breath in raggedly as you reach Leonard’s quarters. The door opens for the two of you and the doctor immediately carries you over to his bed, setting you gently down on the mattress.  You refuse to let go of his tunic, holding yet another breath as you claw at him. The gentle thump of his knuckles against your sternum serves as a tactile reminder for you to breathe and you gasp again, this time keeping up the rhythm of inhale, exhale as Leonard reaches up to gently extricate your hands from his shirt, holding onto them with his own instead. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he murmurs gently, squeezing your hands to give you something tangible to hold onto.  “What’s happening?” You shake your head as your anxiety suddenly becomes compounded by shame.  Tugging your arms against the grasp he has on your hands, you try to pull away but he doesn’t give in.  You begin to feel trapped and your fear spirals, your breathing almost immediately becoming uncontrollable all together.  You’re breathing in great, gasping sobs, barely getting any air, and thankfully Leonard realizes what’s happened. “Okay, okay, darlin’,” he soothes, letting go of your wrists and watching you pull away and put your back to him so he can’t see your face.  “Hey, Y/N, listen to me: breathe.” His voice is much more urgent now, his tone a little sharper, but it’s enough to break through your terror.  It takes you a minute or two to get your breathing under control again, but when you do, it’s coming easier than it was before your anxiety had precipitated a minute ago.  Leonard soothes you softly, his hand rubbing your hip as you lie facing away from him. “That’s a good girl,” he says quietly.  “Just keep that up.  In… and out.  You’re doing great.” He's not asking about what set you into a tailspin, and for that you’re eternally grateful.  You’re just not ready to talk about it yet, not while the adrenaline is coursing through you, making your body work overtime, driving you to what feels like the brink of madness. “Just going to check your pulse here, darlin’,” Leonard explains a moment later and you nod, feeling him stop his petting and reach for your wrist instead. As he measures your heart rate, you reach up with your shaky other hand, wiping your tears away before any more of them soak into his blankets.  The moisture that’s landed on the fabric already, however, is liberating his comforting scent – rosewood, cinnamon, and disinfectant; an odd but strangely endearing combination that puts you at ease a little with its familiarity. You feel him release your wrist a moment later and his hand is immediately back at your side, his thumb stroking your hipbone lightly in a slow, soothing rhythm that you find yourself attempting to match your breathing to now that you’re thinking a little bit more clearly. “Keep doing what you’re doing,” he encourages you.  “You’re okay, Y/N.” You nod slowly, trying your best to believe him, and you close your eyes.  You’re more tired than you’ve ever been in the wake of the worst of the anxiety, but even as you begin to settle, you find yourself unable to sleep.  You just keep breathing with Leonard rhythmically stroking your hip and eventually moving up to pet your hair instead.  His touch is like an anxiety pill and you find the feelings melting away, leaving you calmer with every passing moment. After a half hour or so, your tears dry up and you turn over so you’re on your back, turning your head to face Leonard. His expression is unendingly sympathetic and his caring almost breaks you again, but you manage to hold it together. You take a shaky breath, averting your gaze a little, and reach out to twine your fingers together with his. “Can you pull up my personnel file?”  You ask him. He looks a little confused, but he reaches out and plucks his PADD up off of the bedside table nevertheless, unlocking the screen and typing your details with his free hand, the tablet balanced on his lap. “Look through my pre-admission psych evaluation,” you instruct him.  “I just… I’m not ready to talk about it right now, but it’s all in there.” Leonard nods, accessing the pertinent part of your file, reading in silence for several long minutes.  You don’t know exactly what’s written in the paperwork, but you know that your whole life history is summarized in its pages for him to see.  You can’t bear to watch him, his shocked and pained expressions, and so you glance away, your eyes tracing the riveting on the ceiling as you try to catch up on some deep breathing.  You feel sick to your stomach from all of the emotion and you run a hand through your hair, shivering from the exertion of it all.  It’s at that moment that Leonard looks up and he frowns, reaching out to gently stroke your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly.  “I had no idea.” You nod. “I don’t talk about it much,” you offer. “Sometimes I just get flashbacks. Certain sounds or sights will trigger those memories and…” You gesture to yourself, to the state that you’re in with your hair disheveled and your face splotchy from the crying. Leonard sets his PADD aside and leans forward to gently kiss your forehead. “Those lights,” you croak.  “When the flashing started… it reminded me of the headlights I saw just before we were hit.  It was like I was right back there again.” He nods and smooths your hair down, taming the locks that have liberated themselves from your hair tie.  Gently trailing his fingertips over your cheek, he slips his hand down along your jawline and neck, resting his palm ultimately on your chest, the weight of it reassuring you and giving you something to hold onto as you navigate your way out of the swirling maelstrom of emotions. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” you whisper, closing your eyes against the onslaught of shame you’re suddenly feeling. “Oh, Y/N, no,” he says softly.  “Don’t say that, sugar.  I’m glad I was here for you.” Your shivering is growing increasingly violent, your body’s coping mechanisms becoming strained by your tiredness.  You swallow thickly, choking back a fresh wave of tears, and sigh. “I want you to get some rest,” the doctor expresses.  “You’ve been through a lot today.” “I don’t know if I can sleep right now,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to chase away the trembling. “Well, why don’t you get changed out of your uniform first, see how you feel,” he suggests, moving to stand up, leaving the spot on your chest that his palm has vacated feeling cool. You shift around, sitting up as he crosses the room and opens the closet door, reaching for something on the rack above the hangers.  You watch him as he pulls a couple of articles of clothing out and returns to your side, holding them out to you. “They’re going to be way too long for you, but they’ll be comfortable,” Leonard says lightly.  “Go on and get changed, I’ll bring you some tea.” You shakily get to your feet as he heads to the kitchenette, slowly peeling off your dress and folding it carefully.  You set it aside and unclip your bra.  Your boots come off last but your socks stay on to keep your feet warm as you step into sweatpants that are far longer and looser than is reasonable.  Stooping down, you roll up the bottoms of each leg so your feet can touch the floor unhindered and you roll up the waistband, too, securing it with a tug on the strings and a tight bow.  With that done, you slip the shirt he’s given you over your head, rolling up the sleeves, too, reveling in its softness. Leonard returns as you finish up and he sets the tea mug he’s brought with him down on the bedside table, gesturing to the bed.  He folds down the blankets, encouraging you wordlessly to crawl beneath them, and pulls them up again once you’re settled.  He stands over your seated form, his gaze lingering on the dark circles under your eyes as you fidget with the blanket in your lap. “Drink that, it’ll help,” he instructs you quietly, his tone soothing.  “I’ll be right back.” As he retreats, you pick up the mug and sniff at the tea in it, making a face.  It smells unappetizing, but you know that whatever it is will settle your stomach and help calm you; Leonard always deliberately picks what sort of herbal tea he brings you when you’re not feeling your best, usually with good results. Taking a tentative sip, you groan – it tastes even worse than it smells.  Still, you manage to choke down half a mug full before Leonard returns and he smiles proudly at you as you set the remainder aside. “How’s that?”  He asks, taking a seat at your side and setting his med kit down in his lap. “Better,” you admit, feeling the nausea beginning to settle. “Good,” Leonard says, his tone relieved. “Now, feel free to say no because as your boyfriend I don’t want to push you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, but as your doctor, I’d really like to give you something to help relax you and put you to sleep.  You need your rest, darlin’, and it’ll help that headache, too.” You furrow your eyebrows, confused because you hadn’t mentioned your headache, but you quickly realize that you’re rubbing your neck, trying to ease the tension in the muscles there.  Leonard has always been extremely perceptive and you can’t help but smile softly.  You hesitate a few moments, your anxiety paradoxically pushing you not to accept the offer of an anxiolytic, but you eventually nod. “Thank you,” he says gratefully, his relief evident on his features, the for being reasonable hanging unspoken in the air.  “Okay, darlin’, lie down for me.” You acquiesce easily, shuffling down the length of the bed until you can lie back with your head on the pillow.  Leonard is smiling softly at you as he unzips his kit, his practiced hands pulling out the appropriate vial and assembling the hypo within seconds.  You turn your head to the side, away from him, and squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation of the hypo.  The sting is preceded by a gently stroke of his fingers, and followed by a careful rubbing. “Mmm,” you sigh, turning your head back to face him again and blinking your tired eyes open to meet his beautiful hazel gaze.  “Thanks, Lee. You always know how to take care of me.” He chuckles, the sound reverberating in your ears and warming you as the medication begins to steal away vestiges of your consciousness. “I love you, Y/N,” he murmurs in response. “I’m here.  I’ll always be here.” You hum softly in acknowledgement of his words as you’re drawn into slumber.  As your body relaxes and your breathing evens out, Leonard’s hand slips to your neck, his fingertips resting at the pulse point there, counting the now-slower beats to reassure himself that you’re alright.   He’s still by your side when the first of the night’s many bad dreams claim you a while later.  He shakes you awake gently and pulls you tight to his chest, murmuring reassurances as he presses kisses into your hair.  He’s warm, vital, and grounding as you fight to remember that you’re not that child anymore, that orphan without a tie to anyone.  He’s there and he’s alive, as the heartbeat thumping softly in your ear where your head is pressed to his chest tells you. Every time you lie back down to try to sleep again, you remind yourself that he’ll still be there when you wake up, and eventually, as though your mind has heard the reassurances enough, you drift off one more time and stay that way until the chime of Leonard’s alarm wakes you up in the morning.  Fear grips you for only a second before you come to feel the arms around you and you realize that those flashbacks, those nightmares hold no power over you now; you’re home.

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