#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.”

[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!-

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[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]

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.

[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]

V is for Visual Impairment (22/26)

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS) Pairing:  ReaderXBones. Prompt: Fic 22 of 26 in the CMO’s Log – A to Z series.  Click here for a listing of all the fics in this series!  V is for Visual Impairment. Word Count: 4597. Warnings: vision loss, anxiety, surgical procedures. Rating:  Teen+. Author’s Note: Requested by my cinnamon roll @fandomheadrush – this fic got away from me.  I just started writing and couldn’t stop.  A lot of it is written from personal experience (word to the wise: don’t ever detach a retina if you can help it, it really effing blows), and I’ve left the procedure very much the same as the way it’s performed today just because from what little I know about physics and lasers, even 200 years from now we’re not going to have the kind of technology required to close a large retinal tear without invasive surgery.

V is for Visual Impairment Your head is still reeling as you swing your legs over the edge of the bio bed you’ve been lying on for the better part of the afternoon and your ears are still ringing.  You’d been involved in an explosion on an away mission, and while you’d been armored well enough that you’d avoided shrapnel injuries, you’d been close enough to the epicenter of the blast that you’d been knocked on your face by the shockwave that followed the detonation. As soon as you’d been beamed back up onto the ship, you’d been rushed to medical with the rest of the team and thoroughly checked over.  After looking over your scans and monitoring your condition for a while, Dr. McCoy had finally pronounced you fit to leave medical, and you’d jumped at the chance.

Now, however, you’re shaky as you slip off of the bed and stand, and you glance up at the CMO as he steps in to put a steadying hand on your shoulder. “Alright there, Ensign?”  He asks. “Yes sir,” you reply.  “Thank you.” He nods, ensuring that you’re stable before dropping his hand away once more and giving you some space. “You might feel a little bit dizzy for a few days after that kind of a shock so I’ve put you on light duties until you’re feeling more like yourself,” he explains.  “All of your scans look fine and I don’t anticipate any complications, but if you’re concerned about anything at all, I want you to come right back in here to see me or anyone else on duty, alright?” “I will, sir,” you assure him.  “Thanks again.” “Don’t mention it,” he says with a brief smile. “And you can stop with the sir nonsense – it makes me feel old.” You laugh and nod, acknowledging his wishes, filing away his request for the next time you see him.  He steps aside, giving you room to get to the door and you give him a friendly wave before slowly making your way out of the exam room. The walk through the med bay, down the hall, and to your quarters isn’t a long one, but you’re exhausted enough that it’s daunting. By the time you reach your quarters you’re ready to hit the hay and so you make quick work of stripping off your uniform, washing up, and changing into a pair of pajamas.  Once you’re all set, you crawl into bed, take a long, deep breath, and put the day’s events out of your mind as sleep carries you off into the night. You stir many hours later, groaning as you stretch your aching muscles and yawning.  You slowly blink your eyes open and you furrow your eyebrows as you realize that something’s not right.  Blinking again once, twice, a third time, you realize that the problem isn’t resolving itself; the vision in your right eye is extremely fuzzy and dim, like there’s a shadow being thrown over part of your visual field.  Reaching up, you rub your eye and blink a few more times, hoping that the defect will clear.  When it still doesn’t, you begin to panic. Jumping up and out of bed, you don’t even bother getting dressed as you head for the door.  Slipping on a pair of flip-flops, you dash out of your quarters and head for med bay.  The trip isn’t a very long one but it’s extremely clumsy as you’ve lost a lot of depth perception with the occlusion of half of your visual field. Tears of panic are streaming down your face as you finally reach med bay.  Losing your vision has always been one of your biggest fears as problems with visual acuity run in your family, and now that something is happening to you, all of your fears are crashing over you like breaking waves, dragging you further down into the abyss of terror. A nearby nurse spots you first and she’s out of her chair in a flash, rushing toward you and gently taking your shaking shoulders in her hands.  You remember her from yesterday even though it’s hard to make out her features through the haze and you reach up, clinging onto her arms as you try to breathe through your panic.  You hate med bay as it is; being there for a problem as serious as the one you’re afraid you’re facing now is literally your worst nightmare. “Ensign Y/L/N,” the nurse says gently, already leading toward a bio bed.  “What’s going on?” “My eyes,” you reply, sobs choking you and threatening to burst out of you at any moment.  “Something’s wrong with my vision.” The nurse nods in understanding as she helps you up onto a bed, giving your shoulder a squeeze as she activates it in preparation for the doctor. “Just hang in there a moment,” she soothes. “I’ll go and get Dr. McCoy.  Try to take some deep breaths.” Her words fall on deaf ears; you’d stopped listening after she’d said your attending physician’s name.  Instead, you continue to hyperventilate, crossing your arms over your chest and curling in on yourself as you feel the world start to crumble in around you.  You’re not sure how long you sit there like that, afraid and anticipating the worst, but eventually your attention is drawn to the sound of hurried footsteps approaching. You look up just in time to see the CMO breeze into the room, followed by your good friend and his best nurse, Christine Chapel.  She moves in beside the doctor as he comes to stand before you and hovers on the periphery, waiting for orders while he reaches out to put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Try to calm down for me, Ensign,” the doctor insists, his tone gentle but authoritative.  “Breathe in and out and tell me what the problem is.” As you attempt, however shakily, to comply with his instructions, he exchanges a few words with Christine and she rushes off to fetch him the equipment he’s requested.  His hand remains on your shoulder as he glances at the bio bed’s readout, assessing all of your vital signs.  He stays quiet, waiting for you to catch your breath, and he listens closely when you finally find the wherewithal to speak. “M-my right eye,” you wheeze in between sharp, shallow breaths.  “My vision’s really blurry, I can barely even make out shapes.  It’s kind of dark.  Oh, God, am I going blind?!” The doctor’s grip on your shoulder tightens even more and he puts his face right in front of yours so you can easily see and read his expression. “No,” he replies firmly.  “I promise you, you’re not going blind.” “B-but my dad,” you explain weakly.  “And my aunt.” “Both have macular degeneration,” the doctor supplies.  “I know, darlin’; I’ve read your file.  I promise you that’s not what this is.” “What is it, then?”  You ask, your tone barely above a whisper like you don’t really want to know, and like if you ask quietly enough you can avoid facing whatever horrible reality you’re afraid is waiting for you on the other side of his next statement. “I’m not entirely sure,” he admits.  “But I have a good idea.  Still, I don’t want to say anything until I’ve confirmed it. I’m going to have Nurse Chapel put some drops in your eyes to dilate your pupils so I can get a good look at the back of your eyes.  While those drops do their thing, I’m going to give you a little something to help calm you down – nothing too strong, just enough to take the edge off.  I don’t want you driving your blood pressure up while you’re still recovering from that blast yesterday.” “Is that what caused this?”  You query. The doctor nods as he turns away from you briefly to accept the tricorder and the hypo Christine has brought him.  She also sets a number of other tools down on the bed beside you before holding out a dropper bottle.  Dr. McCoy steps aside and begins to assemble a hypo as the nurse takes his place and encourages you to tip your head back. “If it’s what I think it is, then the force of the blast or your impact with the ground probably contributed to the problem,” he explains.  “Trauma to the head can cause all sorts of eye injuries.” Christine gets the drops in both of your eyes easily – two different kinds in each one – and moves off again.  She stays nearby, reaching out to gently rub your back as the doctor rejoins you, holding the hypospray in his hand. “Just a small pinch here, Y/N,” he says softly. You nod and close your eyes, wincing as they sting from the medication.  You feel one of his hands gently rest on your collarbone, bracing you as his other hand presses the hypo to the opposite side of your neck and discharges it with practiced ease.  You start a little at the sound it makes and the bite of it but Dr. McCoy’s hand is there immediately, massaging the injection site and soothing you. “You should feel better any second,” he explains. Somehow, miraculously, you do.  You’re still thinking clearly and worrying about what your symptoms could mean, but the anxiety accompanying your thoughts has been removed, to a large extent, and so you disconnect from those worries even more, focusing instead on the doctor before you. “That’s it,” he encourages you quietly. “Now, open your eyes for me so I can take a look at you.  The light’s going to be really bright, but it’ll be over quick.” You nod mutely and watch him reach for a tricorder.  He waves it around your face, watching the screen intently.  Once he’s done with the first one, he picks up another scanner, repeating the process.  You have no idea what kind of information he’s gleaning from the instruments, but whatever it is he seems not entirely displeased, and you hope that’s a good sign. Putting away the second scanner, he picks up an opthalmoscope, holding it up in front of you as he levels his gaze with yours. “Keep your eyes open, try your best not to blink,” he instructs.  “This’ll only take a minute.” You follow his orders, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead as he leans in close to you, shining a light in your eyes one at a time, examining you carefully.  The light very quickly becomes uncomfortable almost to the point of making you nauseated but you tolerate it; if it means he’ll be able to diagnose you and treat whatever is affecting your vision, you’ll hang in there indefinitely. You comply further as he asks you to look up, down, and to either side so he can see as much of the back of your eyes, particularly the affected one, as possible.  Eventually he finishes and removes the awful, intense light from your field of view, allowing you to relax.  You blink away some tears, shutting your eyes tightly to hasten the disappearance of the persistent burn left in the wake of the light and you feel his hand land on your shoulder again. “I’ve got some good news and some bad news,” the doctor begins softly. Christine is still rubbing your back reassuringly and you take a deep, shaky breath. “What is it?”  You ask weakly, your head swimming a little from the sedative he’d given you. “The good news is that this is something we can fix,” he explains, and your heart leaps, though carefully as you wait for the other shoe to drop. “What’s the bad news?”  You query. “It’s a retinal detachment,” the doctor continues.  “It’s spared your macula, but it came extremely close.  I’m confident that we can restore your vision to near perfect levels, but if your macula’s been disturbed after all, you may have a small bit of distortion in the vision in your right eye afterward, and that would be permanent.” “What kind of distortion?” You question, bouncing your legs nervously where they hang off of the side of the bio bed. “Does that mean I’ll be grounded?” One of the doctor’s hands lands on your knee, calming the anxious habit as he goes on speaking. “No,” he assures you.  “It’ll be minor, it might cause a bit of double vision until your brain gets used to the defect, but it’s not going to end your career, I promise you that.  I do have some concerns, though.” You meet his gaze, silently urging him to keep talking.  If you’re going to have to contend with even more complications, you just want to know what you’re facing so that you can start to get your head around things. “Neither myself nor Dr. M’Benga have much experience with the type of procedure you require,” Dr. McCoy says plainly. “I’ve watched several, assisted in a few more, and performed one.  The tear in your retina is, unfortunately, a fairly large one – too large to close with just a laser.  The surgery you need, a pars plana vitrectomy, is invasive and best performed by a specialist.  Now, we have all the equipment we need to fix it here, but we’ll be passing by a starbase in the next week that has a surgeon that would be able to perform the procedure for you.  There are risks to waiting, though; the tear can become bigger, and if it spreads in the wrong direction, you could face blindness.  If that’s what you want, however, I’ll keep you in here and resting so I can keep an eye on it until we can get you where you need to go.” “What’s my other option?” You croak, all of the moisture suddenly gone from your mouth, chased off by adrenaline. “I can perform the procedure,” the doctor answers slowly.  “I’ll need to take it slow, so you’ll be under the knife longer than you would be with someone more qualified, and while I’ve got steady hands, there’s still a risk that I might come too close to the macula while closing up the tear, endangering your vision further.” You sit in silence, absorbing what he’s said. You trust him implicitly, but you also know that your vision is critical to your work and things will be a lot harder for you if you’ve got to contend with losing your depth perception and fifty percent of your visual field.  With a sigh you glance up again, meeting his gaze. “What would you do?”  You ask. The doctor doesn’t hesitate. “I’d let me perform the procedure,” he replies. “We can always have you follow up with that specialist once we reach the starbase, but your vision stands a better chance of recovering if we act now.” It’s settled, then.  You nod. “When?”  You query.  “And… can you please explain what’s going to happen?  I’m really, really out of my depth here.  I’m scared.” “Of course you are, Y/N,” he murmurs.  “I don’t blame you.  I’ve got you though, darlin’; it’s going to be okay.” You smile weakly at the term of endearment, only just noticing that Christine’s gotten busy without so much as a word from the doctor while he’s been comforting you.  She’s pulled out a gown for you and assembled some IV supplies, and you marvel at their partnership as the CMO speaks again. “The procedure is relatively simple, though it takes an hour or two depending on exactly how complex the tear is to patch once I get in there,” he explains.  “We give you a bit of a sedative to keep you relaxed, we numb your eye with an injection of anaesthetic to the space around the nerves behind it, then we-“ You cut him off, sucking in a sharp breath at his words and shaking your head. “N-no,” you stammer.  “I can’t handle a needle in my eye.  Please.  I-I don’t think I can do this.” “Okay, okay, sweetheart,” the doctor soothes you.  “It’s alright.  It’s higher risk, but I can put you to sleep for the surgery.  You’re young and healthy, I don’t foresee any problems with that.” You calm a little at his words, relief washing over you.  Your head is reeling so much that the sedative he’d given you minutes before already feels like it’s wearing off and you can feel yourself trembling.  You tip your head a bit, encouraging the doctor to keep talking as you keep on top of your emotions. You listen carefully to his explanation, trying your best to keep the mental images of what he’s talking about – incisions into your eye, lasers, stitches – at bay.  You groan inwardly as he explains what the recovery process will be like – two weeks of strict bedrest without any bending or lifting.  Once he falls silent after a couple of minutes, you stare off into space, processing what he’s said.  He gives you a moment to collect yourself, but after a minute has passed by in which you haven’t reacted, he bends to your level, catching your gaze. “If you’re okay with that, I’d like to get you set up right away,” he prods gently.  “The sooner we do it, the sooner you’re out of the woods and on your way to recovery.” You glance up sharply, your head snapping to attention and your heart rate increasing a good measure as you realize what he means; you’re going to be having surgery for the first time in your life, and on your eyes no less, within the hour.  Tears spring to your eyes again as panic consumes you, effectively overcoming the sedative he’d given entirely. “Y/N, hey, it’s alright,” the doctor says softly, his palms coming to rest on your shoulders.  “Just breathe for me.  Now, I’m not going to do anything without your consent – I won’t force anything on you.  You just tell me whenever you’re ready, okay?” You nod silently, looking into the doctor’s eyes as you work to breathe more evenly.  A few minutes go by before you’re able to speak but you finally find your voice. “Let’s do it,” you say quietly. “Alright,” the CMO says with a nod, moving to step away from you, intent on getting the ball rolling. You reach out, grabbing a hold of his sleeve to keep him from getting too far away.  He stops and turns his attention to you once again, searching your expression as you let go, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Sorry,” you mumble, casting your gaze downward.  “I just… Will you be there when I go to sleep?” The doctor nods. “And the second you wake up,” he promises. “I’m going to ready the OR – Christine will take good care of you for me in the meantime, darlin’.” Christine sweeps in to take his spot as he leaves the room and does her best to comfort you as she leads you to a different part of the med bay.  It doesn’t take her long to get you changed into a patient gown, and less time still to start an IV line and get you settled onto a bed.  You watch her go through the motions as she explains exactly what she’s doing, giving you more eye drops and some other standard pre-op medications. Before long you’re being wheeled into surgery and you’re beside yourself with anxiety.  You keep trying to find your voice, to ask Christine where Dr. McCoy is, but all you can do is lie there and tremble, withering from the fear.  You relax a fraction, however, as your bed is pushed through the OR doors and the doctor appears at your bedside. “I’m right here,” he assures you, then gestures to a woman behind a surgical mask.  “This is Amy; she’s going to be putting you to sleep.  I’m going to stay right here and hold your hand while you drift off and then I’ll see you in recovery.  Are you ready?” You take a deep, cleansing breath as Amy moves around, attaching monitor leads to your skin and tucking some blankets in around you to keep you warm and still throughout the procedure.  She leaves your hand out, though, and you shiver as you feel the doctor grasp your cold, clammy palm between his warm, gentle hands. A mask is placed over your face and you shut your eyes tightly as the doctor’s grip on your hand tightens.  You breathe deeply, wrinkling your nose at the rubber scent that permeates the mask, and before long Amy is telling you to count backwards from ten.  You feel a flush of warmth through your body and a stinging in the arm that your IV is in and that’s the last thing you remember before you’re off to sleep. You wake up a few hours later groaning and reaching up to pull at something uncomfortable on your face.  Your hand is met with another and you attempt to open your eyes but find it impossible to do so with the right one.   “Good morning,” Dr. McCoy says from your beside.  “The surgery went very well.  You reacted a little more strongly to the anaesthesia than I had anticipated so I’m keeping you on a bit of low-flow oxygen to help wake you up for a while and your heart rate and blood pressure dropped a little more than expected so I’m going to keep you for observation until tomorrow.” You haven’t understood any of what he’s just said; you’re still floating in an anaesthetic haze, but his presence is comforting.  You could swear you hear him say something about getting some rest and you do, dozing off once more and sleeping for a while longer. You wake up throughout the night on occasion as a nurse comes in to check your vitals, and while you’re curious as to how the surgery went, you don’t feel any of the anxiety that you had before and you’re certain Dr. McCoy has given you something for those nerves again.   Hours later, you’re sitting up in bed when he comes in to check on you at the start of his next shift.  He smiles warmly at you as he approaches your bedside and asks how you’re feeling as he glances at the screen at the foot of the bio bed, reading through the log of your vital signs from over night. “Okay,” you answer hoarsely.  “Li’l bit sore.” “Yeah, that’s the anaesthetic, I’m afraid,” he explains.  “I’ll give you something for the pain shortly, but first I’m sure you’re dying to get that dressing off.” You nod, reaching up to gently run your fingers over the patch that’s covering your injured eye.  You watch the doctor move closer to you with bated breath and sit perfectly still as he reaches up and gently begins to peel the tape away from around the patch. “Remember,” he reminds you.  “You’re not going to be able to see clearly out of it for a week or two, so don’t panic.” You take a deep breath, trying to still your racing heart, and blink your eye open as he removes the patch at last.  It stings like crazy and feels like there’s something in it – the stitch he’d mentioned, most likely – but you can still see. Everything is extremely distorted, but you can make out shapes and colors.  You know that it’s just the gas he’d mentioned instilling to apply pressure to the repair, and you’re hopeful that even the little bit of vision means you’ll be back in working order soon. You and the doctor exchange some words as he gently cleans the remainder of the iodine from the procedure away and cleans the crusty bits that have collected in your eyelashes overnight.  He examines the eye and pronounces the procedure a true success.  You’re elated to hear it, and anxious for the next couple of weeks to go by. They do so excruciatingly slowly with you confined to your quarters on bedrest, but your vision improves day by day and you don’t mind the doctor stopping by to check on you twice daily much, either. The two of you are quickly becoming good friends as the time passes and by week’s end, he’s coming by to hang out just as much as he is to check in on you.  The two of you have a lot in common. When he appears the morning of your tenth day of recovery, he finds you sitting in bed and beaming.  With a smile of his own, he approaches you and takes a seat on the edge of your bed, setting down his med kit.  Reaching up, he gently cups your face, tracing his thumb over the cheekbone beneath your injured eye.  It’s still red and irritated from the sutures, but the drops he’s got you on are helping with the discomfort and besides, you’re no longer overly bothered by the residual symptoms. “I can see!” You burst out before he can say anything.  “The last of the air bubbles are gone!  I was reading before you came in!” Leonard, as he’s now having you call him, reaches out with his free hand to take one of yours and gives it a squeeze. “That’s great!”  He says excitedly.  “What about distortion?  Any double vision?” You shrug. “A little bit, but it’s nothing I can’t work around,” you reply. He smiles and pulls away from you, reaching into his med kit.  He quickly instills an antibiotic drop into the operative eye and then pulls something you’ve never seen before out of his kit.  It’s a small sheet of plastic with a grid printed on it with a dot at its center. He holds it up in front of you and asks you to close your uninjured eye and tell him what it looks like. “Uh, the lines are a little wavy,” you venture. “More around the very middle.” He nods and puts the grid away. “It looks like I may have done a small amount of macular damage,” he explains.  “The central distortion is characteristic of it.  I’m sorry, darlin’ – there’s no way to fix that.” You smile softly and shake your head, reaching out to take his hand in yours and giving it a squeeze. “If I have to live with a little bit of double vision, I will,” you say firmly.  “It could have been so much worse if you hadn’t acted quickly.  You saved my vision, and I don’t know how I can ever thank you for that.” He laughs softly and meets your gaze, his eyes dropping to your lips for a moment and making your head spin before settling on yours again. “Have dinner with me,” he suggests. You’re floored and you want nothing more than to pounce on him for a hug, but you’re still on bedrest and you somehow feel like throwing yourself at the man would be a violation of the “take it easy” rule.  Instead, you nod and edge forward a little, reaching out to put your hands on his shoulders. “I’d love to,” you murmur, your own gaze dropping to his mouth this time. It's all the encouragement he needs and a split second later, his lips are pressed gently up against yours.  He tastes like coffee and you drink him in, finding him as bold and rich as what he’d imbibed.  You can’t help but smile into the kiss. It took you nearly losing your vision to find a lover, and now that you have him, you’re never letting him go.

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

Graphic by @wonders-of-the-enterprise

[kinkykinard]

Constellations

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS) Pairing:  ReaderXBones Prompt: @starshiphufflebadger1 requested a fic where the reader has freckles and Bones adores them. Word Count: 1375 Warnings: None; fluffy through and through! Rating: Teen+ Author’s Note: This was almost smut. I really, really wanted it to be smut, but I held back because I love the fluff, too.  If there’s an interest, though, I may consider writing an alternate ending!

Constellations You’re completely exhausted after your shore leave but you couldn’t be happier as you collapse onto the couch in Leonard’s quarters, the cool fabric of the cushions in stark contrast to the heat of your sun-bronzed skin.  You’ve left your bags over by the door to deal with later and you’re grinning lazily as you beckon Leonard over with a wave of your hand. “Just let me put a few things away, darlin’,” he calls from across the room.  “I’ll be there in a minute.” “Noooo,” you whine.  “I need you, Lee.  Your luggage can wait.”

You can practically feel him rolling his eyes as he emerges from behind the bedroom partition and makes his way over to you.  You watch him as he rounds the end of the couch and sits back, slinging an arm over the back of the sofa and tipping his head to encourage you to move closer to him. You don’t need any encouragement, really, and before he’s even fully settled, you’re pressed up against his side, sighing contentedly as his palm slips down to rest on your shoulder.  His thumb gently strokes the skin exposed there beneath the thin strap of your tank top and you shiver, earning yourself a smile from the doctor. “Did you have a good time?”  You ask him, snuggling into his side and closing your eyes against the bright lights overhead. He grumbles, which you assume is a yes, and you’re infinitely glad.  The two of you had spent the week off on the beach, getting some sun and swimming in the ocean.  It had been an uneventful few days and that was exactly what the two of you had needed after all the hubbub on the Enterprise over the last several months. You’re rejuvenated after the little vacation, but you’re also in a post-vacation haze of exhaustion from all the fun you’d had. Silence hangs between you and Leonard for several long minutes and you begin to think he’s fallen asleep.  Opening your eyes, you glance up, tipping your head enough so you can see him, and find him looking down at the exposed shoulder you have leaning back against his chest.  He seems enthralled and a small smile perks up the corners of your mouth as you attempt to read him. The silence continues as he reaches up with his free hand, his fingertips tracing over the smattering of freckles on your shoulder.  His expression is one of awe as his fingers connect the thousands of little spots in broad strokes, and he blushes a bit when he looks up and realizes that you’re staring right back at him. “What are you thinking about?”  You ask him softly, resting your head against his chest, his heartbeat thumping softly beneath your ear. “Constellations,” he replies lightly, his eyes falling to your shoulder once more. You’re surprised by his answer, and your brow creases in confusion. “I didn’t take you for an astronomer, Dr. McCoy,” you tease. “You know I only paid attention in that class because you were so interested in it back at the academy,” he murmurs. You laugh softly and shift a bit so you can continue looking up at him as he continues his visual exploration of your shoulder. “No, really, though,” you encourage him. “No, really,” he emphasizes, his fingertip drawing something – is that the big dipper? – on your shoulder.  “The longer I look at your freckles, the more constellations I can pick out.  Your skin’s like the night sky, darlin’ – it’s beautiful.” You shiver at his gentle touch and feel your heart skip as his words sink in.  You’ve always loved your freckles, especially after you’ve been out in the sun for a while and they really pop, but Leonard’s never mentioned them before. To hear that he thinks they’re beautiful, of all things, makes you almost giddy. “Show me,” you whisper, angling your head so you can see where he’s touching you. He accommodates for your position and slips his fingertips lower down to your upper arm where the freckles are less dense but still well-defined.  You bite your lip as you watch him trace gentle lines into your skin, listening as he leans in a little closer to you so he can whisper in your ear. “Here’s Leo,” he breathes, his fingertips moving from point to point.  “And Scorpius.” Your heart rate is rising with every passing second, the contact between you and him becoming electric as he outlines the figures of myth and guardians of the night sky on your arm.  Your eyes flutter closed so that you can simply feel what he’s doing and take in as much of the sensation of his touch as possible, and you can feel his touch trailing higher again, to your collarbone, over the curve of your neck and down once more to the skin between your shoulder blades. “Perseus,” he says softly, his breath tickling your neck.  “And Cygnus.” As he traces the swan constellation, the freckle stars that make up the animal’s neck lead his fingers up to the column of yours.  He tangles his hand in your hair and runs his fingers through it, eliciting a moan from you. You feel him shift as the ends of your hair fall from his grasp and before you know it, the heat of his chest is gone from your back and he’s at your side, his palm cupping your face. Blinking your eyes open, you meet his intense hazel gaze and you watch his eyes slip lower, to the dusting of freckles on the bridge of your nose and your cheeks.  You bite your lip as he examines the spots, the amazement in his expression never once wavering.  His gaze is so fervent you feel like he’s trying desperately to memorize each and every freckle, and you’re nearly dizzy from the excitement his gaze is eliciting in you. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, closing the distance between the two of you and pressing his lips to yours. You’re surprised by the kiss but it’s not at all unwelcome and you quickly sink into it, your breathing coming in punctuated gasps.  You feel Leonard’s free hand wrap around your waist and pull you closer before continuing up to your neck.  He splays his palm at the side of your throat and runs his thumb along your jaw line, silently beckoning you to part your lips. As the kiss deepens and your tongues clash, you whimper and fist your hand in the fabric of his shirt, wanting to keep him close.  His fingertips gently stroke your neck as you drink each other in and moments later, much to your dismay, Leonard breaks the kiss and pulls away.  He doesn’t go far, though; just far enough to let you breathe. His forehead presses against yours and he nuzzles you, eliciting a smile. “This has you all excited, doesn’t it, darlin’?”  Leonard murmurs, gently capturing your lips with his again for just a moment.  “I can feel your pulse racing.” Pointedly, he strokes your neck where he’s got his fingers overlying your carotid pulse point and stills his hand there for just one more moment before allowing it to drift down to your shoulder instead.  He pulls away, looking down at you as he straightens up, and he gestures for you to turn around.  You do as he asks without question, and as soon as you’re settled, you feel his hands at the hem of your shirt.  You allow him to pull it off of you, leaving you in your bikini top, and you shudder with longing for his touch as you hear him gasp in mingled reverence and desire. “I’m going to be here all night, mapping out the sky,” Leonard murmurs behind you, his fingertips landing on your midback and beginning to trace lower. Where you’d been exhausted only minutes before, you’re now excited at the thought of getting to feel Leonard’s hands on you all night long. And to think, he’s only seen so far as your waist for now; you’ve still got plenty more freckles on your calves and thighs for him to explore and you can’t wait to see his expression when you show him those, too.

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

[kinkykinard]

S is for Stress (19/26)

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS) Pairing:  ReaderXBones Prompt: Fic 19 of 26 in the CMO’s Log – A to Z series.  Click here for a listing of all the fics in this series!  S is for Stress.  Academy era AU. Word Count: 2263 Warnings: None. Rating: All ages. Author’s Note: This one goes out to all those out there who are going through some kind of stress or other right now.  I know I could have used someone like Leonard while I was preparing for my last round of exams.  

S is for Stress You throw your stylus down in frustration as you finish writing out the last of the study notes you’re making for your third year Advanced Robotics class.  You’ve been studying for your upcoming final exams for weeks and tomorrow morning is your first – and most dreaded – one.  Sighing, you run a hand over your tired eyes and scroll back to the beginning to read your notes again. A quarter of the way through your material, a knock on your door sounds and you instruct the computer to unlock it. Without hesitation, the door slides open and you can tell just by the footfalls behind you that it’s Leonard who has entered your quarters.

“Hey darlin’,” he says softly, striding over to where you’re seated at your desk and settling his hands on your shoulders. “How’s the studying going?” You groan in frustration by way of answer and he chuckles. “That well, huh?”  He says gently, and you can hear the smile in his voice.  “Do you want me to leave you alone?” You shake your head, turning your attention away from your notes to look up at him over your shoulder.   “I just want to review these notes one last time,” you explain. “If you don’t know it now, you probably won’t in time for the exam,” Leonard says apologetically. “I do know it,” you assure him.  “It just never hurts to take one last look.” He nods and, as you turn back to look down at your PADD, begins to knead your shoulders gently.  You moan softly at how amazing it feels to have him working the tension out of the muscles there and it��s all you can do to focus on your reading as he massages the aches away. “You’re tense,” he comments.  “Are you nervous?” You nod a little; enough to answer him but not enough to disrupt his kneading. “I’ve been stressed out about finals for weeks,” you reply.  “I have really bad exam anxiety and I know that I know this stuff inside-out and backwards, but I still feel like I’m going to screw it all up.” “You won’t screw it up, sweetheart,” Leonard reassures you.  “But if you’re really worried about it and need a day or two more to prepare yourself, I can write you a deferral letter.  As your primary care physician I have the authority.” You smile softly, leaning back so you’re sitting straight up in the chair as his warm, deft hands continue to work out the knots in your shoulders and neck.  Part of you wants to take him up on his offer, but the other part of you just wants to get the exams over and done with so you can finally properly relax. “No, but thanks,” you murmur.  “I’d rather not have to wait another week or two to be done – that’s just another week or two for me to spend freaking out. I’ll be okay.” “Then give me your PADD and come join me on the couch,” Leonard offers.  “You can snuggle up with me and I can quiz you on this stuff.” You smile as you hold the PADD up over your shoulder for Leonard to take. “That sounds lovely,” you agree. You miss his touch as soon as his hands leave your shoulders and you stand up, stretching your aching, bunched muscles before following him over to the sofa.  You give him a moment to get comfortable and then you curl up against his side, drawing your knees in to your chest as he wraps an arm around you. He holds the PADD in his free hand, far enough away that you can’t read what’s on it, and begins to flip through the information you have gathered there. As he begins to ask you questions, you respond automatically, reassuring yourself that you know the material cold. You close your eyes after a little while, inhaling deeply and feeling warmed by the scent of his cologne; it’s something dark and spicy, and it’s comforting in its familiarity. The two of you spend an hour reviewing before you’ve gone through the remainder of your material and you let out a long exhalation as Leonard powers down your PADD and sets it aside.  He leans in to press a kiss to your temple and you shift so your head is resting on his pec, his heartbeat echoing in your ear. “Thanks, Lee,” you murmur.  “Now all I need is a good night’s sleep and maybe I won’t fail this exam.” His hand absentmindedly strokes your hair as he looks down at you, his gaze lingering on the dark circles beneath your eyes and the frown of your mouth.  He glances at the chron and realizes it’s getting late – not really, but late enough that you should be getting to bed in time for an 0800 exam the following day. “Why don’t you wash up and get changed?” He suggests.  “I’m going to run and get something to help you sleep.” You shake your head. “I can’t afford to be drowsy in the morning,” you rebut. “You won’t be,” Leonard promises.  “Have I ever lied to you?  Just trust me.  I’ll calibrate the dosage so you’ll be right as rain by 0700 hours so you’ve got plenty of time to shower and eat a good breakfast before your test.” You consider his words for a moment and finally nod in agreement.  You sit up, moving away so Leonard can stand, and you take the hand he offers you a moment later so you, too, can get to your feet.  You smile as he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips and you watch him leave with a promise that he’ll be right back. Moving to your private bathroom, you quickly brush your teeth and comb your hair.  You fill up the glass that resides on your counter with water and savor it, setting the empty back down again before stepping back into your bedroom. You groan as all of the muscles in your neck and shoulders ache from all of the tension you’re holding there while you pull off your clothes.  Stretching your arms over your head, you whine softly at the pain that comes before the relief. You open the dresser next to your closet and pull out your favorite, most comfortable pair of pajamas.  Slipping into the familiar, nearly threadbare shorts and tank top, you move to your bed and turn down the covers.  Kicking off your slippers, you climb into bed and lie back against your pillow, groaning at how good it feels to be relaxing even a little bit. You’re still tense a few minutes later when Leonard returns, slipping into your quarters quietly with his kit in hand. The embrace of the pillowtop beneath you and the comforter on top are inviting and welcome, but you can’t get comfortable.  In the silence of Leonard’s absence, all sorts of awful scenarios had played themselves out in your head and now you’re jittery.  It doesn’t’ escape Leonard’s notice, either, as he immediately reaches out for you when he takes a seat on the edge of your bed, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Take a few deep breaths for me, darlin’,” he instructs you as he meets your gaze, his expression reassuring. You’re amazed at how much better you feel for seeing him – though the stress is still wreaking havoc on your body, his stalwart reassurances, stoicism, and unwavering cool countenance make you trust him when he says everything will be okay, and make you listen as he tells you to breathe. You watch him as he reaches into his bag and produces a tricorder, and you can’t help rolling your eyes at him.  Always the consummate professional.  Your expression isn’t lost on him and he smiles softly as he scans you. “Just making sure you’re hydrated enough,” he explains.  “It’s important for how your body handles the drug I’m going to give you.  The good news is, everything looks fine.” He puts the tricorder away and loads a vial into a hypospray, holding it out toward you, giving you another chance to refuse if you want to.  You don’t, however, and he treats your silence as permission.  One of his hands is gentle against the angle of your jaw as he encourages you to tip your head back and relax, and the other is swift and competent as he presses the hypospray to your skin and injects the medication before you can really even sense the stinging.   As he puts the hypo away, you rub at the spot he’s just injected, making the small bit of pain there dissipate in moments. His attention is back on you a second later and he reaches out, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. “You’re going to ace that exam tomorrow,” he says with confidence.  “And all of the others.  You’ll leave everyone else in the dust.” You can’t help but chuckle at his words and you sigh a moment later as you feel a wave of warmth and sedation wash over you. You lick your lips and feel your eyes fluttering closed.  You cling to Leonard’s hand, a bit startled by the feeling, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he soothes you. “It’s alright darlin’, I’ve got you,” he says softly.  “You’re doing great.  Let yourself sleep.  I’ll be right here.” You do as he says and he is; he’s still by your side when you wake up in the morning, though now he’s pressed up against you, sleeping with his chest to your back.  He stirs as you turn off your alarm and you sit up with a yawn, shaking off the waking warmth of a fading sleep.  You quickly realize that he’d been right: you slept amazingly well and you don’t feel the least bit drowsy.  Smiling, you glance at him over your shoulder, doing your best to quell the fresh wave of anxiety that breaks over you as you think of the exam you’ve got in an hour. “You’re the best,” you say brightly.  “I slept like a baby.” He grins smugly and you can’t help rolling your eyes. “I’m going to go get changed for the day,” he calls to your retreating back as you head in to the washroom.  “I’ll meet you in the mess hall.” You shower quickly and get changed, forcing yourself not to power up your PADD for one last quick glance over your notes. You know you know your stuff, and you have to be satisfied with that or else you’ll miss breakfast. Heading out of your quarters, you make it to the mess hall and glance around, noticing Leonard waving at you from a nearby table.  You head over and sit down, looking at the tray in front of your spot.  It’s got a bowl of oatmeal, a banana, a cup of coffee, a bottle of water, and a container of your favorite yogurt.  He wasn’t joking last night when he’d said you needed to eat a good breakfast, and it looked like he was ready to sit and make sure you did just that. “How’re you feeling, Y/N?”  He asks as you pick up the coffee and take your first sip, savoring it. “Okay, I guess,” you reply honestly.  “I’m still really freaked out, but I’ve got to get it over with, right?” He nods and reaches out to take your free hand as you down the rest of the coffee.  You watch him over the lip of the cup, wondering what he’s up to as he pulls a small spray bottle out of his pocket and uncaps it.  He sprays a little spritz of the liquid inside on your wrist and you’re both content and confused as you inhale and smell his familiar cologne. “Smell is the strongest sense tied to memory,” he says by way of explanation.  “I figured since you could smell my cologne while I was helping you study last night, maybe this would help you recall some things during your exam this morning.” You’re touched by his sentiment and you beam at him, setting your cup down. “Thank you,” you say with a grin.  “It couldn’t hurt, right?” He returns the smile and the two of you finish your breakfast in silence.  You glance at the chron on the wall to check the time as you finish and you stand up swiftly. “I have to be across campus in ten minutes!” You yelp.  “Can you take care of this for me, please?!” You gesture to your tray and Leonard nods, reaching out to take your hand.  He gives it a quick squeeze and lets you go.  You’re already rushing away as you wave to him, heading for the exit. “Good luck, Y/N!”  He calls to you.  “You’ll do great!” You’re smiling as you run across the courtyard and head for the robotics building.  As you jog, the heat of your skin causes the scent of the cologne he sprayed on your wrist to intensify and fill the air around you.  You breathe it in deeply and feel yourself relax a little bit, especially when you consider that in a few short hours, after your exam, you’ll be enveloped in that smell again as Leonard hugs you in celebration. Walking into the room, you find your seat and pick up your stylus.  As the clock strikes 0800 hours, you settle in and let it fly across the screen. Stress or no stress, you’ve got this.

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

Graphic by @wonders-of-the-enterprise

[kinkykinard]

R is for Rash (18/26)

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS) Pairing:  ReaderXBones Prompt: Fic 18 of 26 in the CMO’s Log – A to Z series.  Click here for a listing of all the fics in this series!  R is for Rash. Word Count: 1356 Warnings: A rash in a really awkward place, nudity, suggestive themes. Rating:  Adult (18+). Author’s Note: I’m going to hell for this.

R is for Rash You hum to yourself as you stride through the Georgian wilderness, glancing around at the sunbeams cutting through the canopy overhead.  It looks like a picture out of a National Geographic e-zine and it’s perfect, peaceful. You’re beyond glad you and Leonard chose to spend your shore leave staying in his grandparents’ cabin in the woods. The only thing you can see is the sunshine through the trees.  The only things you can smell are the damp earth and the lush summer vegetation.  The only thing you can hear is birdsong in the trees.  The only things you can feel are the warmth of Leonard’s hand in yours and the crunch of fallen twigs beneath your hiking boots.  The only thing you can taste is the sweet-tartness of the wild strawberries you’re pausing to snack on every few steps.  It’s all in stark contrast to the things you’re used to experiencing on the Enterprise, and you find yourself so far removed from the Starship that it’s like you’re on another planet entirely.

As you hike further into the woods, exploring the forest around the cabin and just drinking in all the nature, Leonard stops, tugging on your hand.  You stop, too, looking up at him, and wonder what’s going on. “There,” he says, pointing through a stand of trees off to his right.  “There’s a meadow that way – it looks like the perfect spot for a picnic lunch.” You grin widely as you survey the area he’s indicated and you nod.  The two of you hike towards the meadow with thoughts of the amazing lunch you’d packed earlier for the two of you running through your head.  You didn’t even realize you were hungry until he’d mentioned the picnic, and now you can barely wait the length of time it takes you to cross through the woods to the meadow. As Leonard swings his backpack off of his shoulders, you retrieve the picnic blanket from your own bag, tossing it to him as you dive into his backpack to pull out the food. “Lay that down somewhere soft,” you instruct. “We can eat and just lie back and soak up some sun after lunch.” Leonard smiles at the thought and does as you’ve asked.  Meanwhile, you pull a number of containers out of his backpack, along with a bottle of your favorite white wine and some plastic tumblers.  Filling them both up, you turn around just in time to see Leonard returning to your side and you hold his out to him. “A toast,” you say with a smile as he takes the tumbler from you.  “To an uneventful shore leave.” Leonard quirks a brow. “Define uneventful,” he says with a grin. “Because I have some pretty eventful ideas for in the bedroom later on…” You playfully punch him in the shoulder and clink your tumbler against his before taking a sip of the wine.  It’s not too dry and beautifully floral and you sigh contentedly as you swallow it, chasing it with another sip. “I’m going to set this down by the blanket, darlin’,” Leonard says a moment later.  “Nature calls.” You roll your eyes at the euphemism he’s used but you nod, shooing him off as you continue to unpack lunch.  By the time he returns from behind a nearby tree, you’ve set out the chicken sandwiches, fruit salad, and blueberry muffins you had made that morning.  The two of you indulge (a little too much; neither of you wants to move after you’ve eaten) and then lie back like you’d said you would.  You lie there for an hour or so, watching the butterflies and birds go by overhead as your stomachs settle.  Eventually, however, the mosquito repellent wears off and the two of you are forced to pack it up and move on before you get eaten. A week later, you wake up in the morning to the sound of Leonard cursing and swearing in the bathroom right next to the master bedroom.  Jumping out of bed, you rush over there to find him standing in front of the mirror stark naked and looking frantic. “What’s wrong?”  You ask, your eyes darting from his head down to his toes, looking for signs of injury. He turns to face you and thrusts out his hands, exposing a litany of nasty, linear, striated wounds and blisters on a background of angry, reddened skin.   “Poison ivy?!”  You say surprised.  “Did you touch any while we were hiking last weekend?  I didn’t even think to explain what it looks like…” His expression is angry and he’s clearly uncomfortable. “I know what it looks like,” he snaps.  “I didn’t touch any.  And it gets worse.” Your own expression is questioning and you force yourself to bite back a laugh as he gesticulates wildly around his midsection and your eyes stop at his groin.  His pelvic region and his entire shaft are just covered in the ivy rash. You’re about to ask what the hell he was doing out in the woods to get poison ivy on his penis when you recall the picnic. “Oh my God,” you wheeze, a little bubble of laughter finally escaping you.  “You must already have had the oils on your hands when you peed behind that tree.” “Well what did you think, I stuck it in a patch of ivy?”  He spits. “Come with me,” you instruct him, trying to soothe him with a softer tone. He’s grumbling as he follows you back to the bedroom and he stays standing beside the bed as you reach for your PADD. You quickly pull up some files – an old botany textbook of yours – and turn the screen to face him. “Did you see anything like this out there?” You ask. His eyebrows furrow as he thinks and eventually he nods. “I flattened some of it down when I laid down our blanket,” he replies. You giggle. “It’s poison oak,” you explain.  “It’s got the same oils as poison ivy does, but it’s much less common around here, so I’m not surprised that you didn’t know it to see it.  Sit down.” He’s glaring at you, angry with the world, as you move toward the corner of the room where he’s stashed a med kit. Opening it up, being extremely familiar with ivy and its treatments from all of your own experience with it in the field, you select a cartridge full of medication and load it into a hypo before returning to Leonard’s side.  He looks at you reproachfully as you hold the hypo up in front of him. “It’s prednisone,” you offer.  “It’ll help until we can pick up some salve for those blisters.” Leonard groans and turns his head to the side a little, exposing his neck for the hypo.  You inject the medication quickly and gently massage the side of his neck to help the drug to work faster.  Setting the hypo aside, you meet Leonard’s gaze as he turns back toward you, relief already beginning to show on his features. “Thanks, darlin’,” he says softly, reaching out to take your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Someone’s got to take care of you, doc,” you say with a smile.  “Now come on, a cold shower will help the stinging.” “I’m showering alone,” Leonard says quickly, decisively.   You frown, but he continues before you can even ask why. “If I see you naked right now and get hard, these blisters are going to pop and I’m going to kill myself,” he says, his expression deadpan. You’re unable to reply as he gets up and leaves the room because you’re too busy laughing.  You’re still practically wheezing a few minutes later when you hear the water start to run next door and you’re so consumed by your mirth that you can’t even hear the doctor cursing your reaction to his plight. Oh, you’re going to hell, but you really can’t help yourself.  It’s far, far too funny.  Besides, you’re sure that once Leonard recovers, he’ll more than allow you to make it up to him in some way or another.

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