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browngirlTitle: From What I've Tasted, Part 2 of 2
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: R
Pairing: James T. Kirk/Dr. Leah McCoy; Kirk/Riley, M'Benga/OC, Chapel/Scott, Chapel/Giotto, others discussed.
Summary: One particular day in the life of Dr. Leah McCoy, CMO of the ISS Enterprise.
Content Advisory: Mirrorverse, genderswap, het, slash, violence, dubious consent.
Acknowledgements:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
asimaiyat, kittyjimjams and echoinautumn.
Disclaimer: This fanwork has been created for pleasure only and not for profit.
Title from "Fire and Ice" by Robert Frost
Link to Part 1
1850
After Leah's taken a shower and put on a fresh uniform, after she's pinned up her bun again, kissed Joanna goodnight and left her reading in bed, when the door slides shut behind her Leah turns around and taps in the code to lock her quarters. Now besides her only Chapel or the Captain can get in, or so she's been assured; but then, although he's taken a great deal of entertainment from Leah's efforts to protect her daughter, Kirk does seem invested in helping her do so, at least so far.
Leah takes a breath and pushes that line of thought away, but what drifts in to replace it is the haunting memory of her lunchtime chat with M'Benga, the story of the unnamed young man he'll never see again. What comes to her mind are her increasingly frequent thoughts that Joanna needs to be somewhere else before Kirk's particular mercy wears thin, the knowledge that wherever that is will be somewhere Leah can't be.
So she puts off dinner and all her swirling thoughts a little longer by taking one more swing through Sickbay. On the way she passes Giotto, leaning against the bulkhead as if he thinks anyone could miss two-meters-plus of bulky blockheaded Security XO. From the corner of her eye she watches his eyes follow her, and keeps herself from speeding up or otherwise showing she took any notice of him. She doubts he's there on the Captain's business; Kirk has better ways of keeping tabs on her.
Sickbay is relatively peaceful, a proper contingent of guards flanking the door, M'Benga at the duty desk. They exchange nods, and Leah flicks through the biobed readouts and gives Orri'ah, Rand and Chitalen visual once-overs. When she heads for her office, Chapel slips in a step behind her, so Leah locks the door and looks Chapel over as well. Arms wrapped around herself, she's wearing a female uniform, nurse-white rather than Science blue and all too skimpy on her tall frame. She looks chilled and underdressed even before she holds out her arm, never once looking directly at Leah.
Chapel's wrist is ringed with bruises from strong fingers, fresh red marks branding pale skin. "Broken?" Leah asks in a sigh. Chapel shakes her head, and Leah pulls a regenerator from her desk drawer, automatically scanning it against its template in her tricorder before she switches it on. "Any others?"
Chapel shakes her head again. "When I told Scott I wasn't seeing him tonight, I thought I was out of arm's reach. Had to pull a blade to get away." She smiles wryly, still looking down.
Leah's laugh is soft and bitter. She's misjudged a man's reach herself, once or twice. "He knows better than to break into my quarters, and Joanna always loves a sleepover."
Chapel finally meets Leah's eyes, her smile fading and her tight eyebrows easing. "Thanks, but I think I'll be all right. At least, Giotto had better be worth betting on."
Leah hoists an eyebrow at this revealed shenanigan. "Try not to start something we can't handle, Helen of Troy," she says, and Chapel's cheek dimples. "I'm serious, woman. I need my head nurse in one piece, and the Captain won't thank you if someone useful winds up dead."
Chapel looks down at her hand, lax and half-curled in Leah's hold. "I know. I think I can manage not to provoke a direct fight. I just..." Leah shuts off the regenerator, and Chapel shuts her eyes, cradling her freshly healed wrist in her other hand. "I'm tired of this," she almost whispers, and Leah goes cold at the impending confession. Why today, why her? She's a doctor, not some kind of counselor. But she listens, and Chapel continues. "I'm so tired. Ever since I found Roger, I've been thinking ... I got what I deserved for looking for him, for joining the 'Fleet in the first place."
Leah gasps, loud in her quiet little office, but Chapel doesn't react or move. This must be the first time Chapel's mentioned her ill-fated fiance Professor Korby since the Enterprise happened upon his little android factory, since he sent one of his walking dolls to impersonate Kirk and got all his work destroyed along with himself for the trouble. Leah feels a little guilty for not regretting Korby's death, but she still remembers the mess he caused, the sheer scientific waste when Kirk torpedoed his android base, the hard textured floor beneath her knees when she begged Kirk for Chapel's life. She still remembers the only time she's seen Chapel cry, and thinks angry thoughts in the lightless depths of her heart about the men that women can't be rid of even after they're dead.
Dead or alive, she silently amends, thinking both she and Chapel could really use a hug. Instead she asks lightly, as if they weren't inside a warship brimming with brutality, as if either of their lives were their own, "Where else would you go?"
Chapel's shoulder jerks in a brittle shrug, but she eases her arms from clutching herself to simply folded and looks at Leah again. "I have no idea," she says with another shrug, dismissing the whole conversation, straightening her back and holding her head high.
Leah knows too well how hollow that stance feels. She reaches out to open the door and says, "Have a good evening, Chapel," though the words taste like ash.
"You too, McCoy," Chapel says, her sardonic tone matching Leah's grim expectation, and they head out.
2014
Dinner dishes are strewn across the folding table, the lights dimmed to a level that's supposed to be romantic but just causes eyestrain, and Leah sits in her chair, rolling the lingering taste of chocolate on her tongue as she watches Kirk. He, meanwhile, stares through his vertigo-inducing viewport at the streaked blackness of space at Warp, shoulders squared and arms folded, shadows outlining curves of dense muscle. Until a few moments ago he was pacing as if he wished he had a tail to lash, impatient enough to make her worry, the tension strangling her appetite, and when his comm chimed with a message she carefully held still as she watched him read it.
Besides, considering the menus Kirk always sets when he has Leah to dinner, full of temptations and low on fiber, she's probably had enough food. The last piece of cake sits mournfully untouched, but when Kirk whirls around Leah flinches, barely managing to keep from showing it, her belly clenching around what little she's eaten.
He's smiling at least, bright in the dim room and sunny like an excited boy, and when he crooks his forefinger Leah gets up before she remembers to be resentful. "Now, this is a secret, Bones," he tells her, and grins when she rolls her eyes, "but our next mission's finally something besides shopping trips and toting dignitaries around."
"Oh, good," Leah answers, folding her arms, "because I for one am just so tired of peaceful diplomacy and relative quiet."
Kirk's eyes sparkle at her sarcasm. "Astrometrics just confirmed that one of the open clusters I had them look at has a pretty high chance of dilithium-bearing inner planets. None of the systems are marked as claimed on the maps or buoy charts, so we're going to go fix that." He gestures expansively towards the seeming hole in the wall and the stars outside it, his blue eyes absolutely shining. Something inside Leah sways towards him, warming with his excitement until he says, "And the best part is, at least two of the planets are probably civilized!" Of course. "Future loyal subjects for the Empire," he concludes, his grin widening to sharklike.
Leah's blood runs cold. "Oh, hooray, warfare and carnage!" She takes a step back. "Then I've got a Sickbay to prepare--"
Kirk takes two forwards, catching her wrist, his glee unflagging. "Remember, it's a secret. You'll brief your staff when I tell you to, not before, and you won't lay in extra supplies or make any moves that might tip off inquiring minds. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Captain," Leah sullenly agrees, tugging her trapped hand. Kirk doesn't let go, but he doesn't tighten his grip past mild restraint, either. "Can I at least ask for an ETA?"
"You can ask me anything, baby." Kirk leers, because he's himself. "Three days, maybe a little longer." He tugs her wrist, lightly for him, and she didn't really think she would get two nights off, so she steps in close enough for him to wrap his other arm around her, close enough to rest her forehead against the smooth skin below his collarbones.
Three days before the next time the officers and crew of the Enterprise fling their heavily-armed selves off-ship and come back mangled for her and her staff to put back together. Tonight Kirk's in an expansive mood, his cheer surrounding them like a warm bubble. Leah takes a breath, her eyes closed against the dip of his vest and the muscled planes of his chest, and asks, "Captain?"
"Oooh, 'Captain' twice in a row! You must want something, Bones." Leah's cheeks burn because he's right, and she grits her teeth, trying to force out her request instead of a snarl. "Let me guess. I've already confirmed Rand's medical leave; I had no idea those Theeminite ambassadors had it in their lazy little selves to be so rough on a girl." He sounds just a shade off sincerely surprised, and Leah can just picture the lifted eyebrows and wide-eyed innocence she'd see if she raised her head. "Is it that idiot Stilin who shot up Sickbay? I won't kill him, I promise. Won't even lop off an antenna. If I did in every hothead who tried to settle their love affairs with a phaser I'd have to run half the ship myself! But you can't have this one when he gets out of the Booth. Send a nurse by his quarters to check on him if you want."
Leah's halfway through a nod when Kirk's, "That reminds me," freezes her, a lump of ice congealing in her gut even before his grip tightens on her wrist hard enough to mash new bruises atop old. "Who told you to throw yourself in front of his phaser?"
"I wasn't letting him shoot my patient," Leah replies into Kirk's chest, her voice trembling more than she wants, but her wrist throbs inside the manacle of his fingers and she won't beg him, not for herself, she won't. "Or anyone else."
"Oh, Bones." Kirk sweeps his hand down her arm and catches her other wrist; a little relieved gasp escapes her as he eases up on the pressure, settling her hands palm to palm between his. "What do I have to do to teach you not to risk my favorite doctor? How about if we try something kinda weird. You tell me what you want, and I'll let you have it if you promise to behave."
Leah looks up at Kirk's indulgent smirk, and hauls in a breath all the way to the bottom of her lungs. "Anything I want."
Kirk rolls his eyes ceilingward as if considering. "Almost anything," he drawls, and grins blindingly. "Try me and find out."
Leah swallows, her throat tightening. Maybe she should ask for something less risky... but sometimes she just knows what to prescribe or where to cut, and she knows this is her chance. "Captain Kirk, I want Joanna to go back to Earth for school."
It's Kirk's turn to freeze, his eyes narrowing to glints, little creases bookending his drawn-down eyebrows as his full mouth tightens. "And where do you plan to be, Dr. McCoy?" he asks, and Leah shivers, cold with fear over a little flare of heat undampened by dully familiar self-revulsion.
She swallows hard, rivulets of pain crackling down her nerves under Kirk's tightening fingers, and gasps, "Here, of course." Kirk's eyes lighten a fraction, his grip easing, and she tugs her hands free, hissing as she cups her bruised wrist. "Ow. This ship needs a CMO and she needs her damn hands intact."
"Oh, let me see that." Kirk's smile unfurls, narrower than before, and Leah's belly wobbles with uncertainty as she holds her hand out. He curves his fingers delicately beneath her wrist, lifting it to brush his lips over her pulse like he did this morning. "There, all better."
"You have a medical degree I don't know about, Sir?" Leah asks, flexing it. It aches, but not as if anything's broken. Kirk just grins again, like always.
Then he grabs her up, hands clamped round her upper arms, shocking a gasp out of her as he swings her up against the viewport. "No, I just know how to take people apart," he says, pushing her into the wall with his chest, reaching between them to undo her sash. "I've got you to put them back together."
Here? she thinks, trying not to glance across at the bed, which is at least soft and warm and otherwise comfortable. "I'm here to do that," she tells him, trying to breathe against his crush, trying keep herself from falling by looping her arms behind his neck and hooking her thighs around his waist, "but Joanna doesn't need to be here too," and she focuses on the manic gleam in his eyes, his broad hand at her hip, trying not to think about sending her daughter away, trying not to foresee that emptiness.
Kirk can certainly give her enough to think about with one maddening shrug as he unfastens her trousers. "I'll consider it," he says negligently. "Come on."
Struggling to hold herself up, Leah ducks his kiss. It's risky, but even Kirk has only two hands. "But this is--!" Important fades on her lips as Kirk's eyes flare, and Leah redirects, "How am I supposed to think about anything else?"
Damn it all, he takes it as a dare. "Oh, I bet I can make you," Kirk replies, pressing harder, crushing her between his warm hardness and the cool wall as he grabs her hair and kisses her. Leah 'mmphs' annoyance but Kirk tilts his head, kissing her with soft fervency, cupping her face in his hands until she starts to melt, until she almost doesn't care that she can't breathe. He kisses her until her skin prickles against her uniform and her trousers sliding down her hips feels like shedding a snakeskin.
It takes just about everything, digging down deep, for Leah to keep herself from moaning until Kirk lets her mouth go, to hold back as he kisses along her jaw to her ear, to make herself say as he pushes her knees up and hauls her trousers down over them, "This bulkhead's cold, isn't there a bed in here?"
"A nice big soft one," Kirk rumbles, teeth and tongue against her ear as he tugs her thighs back up around his waist, branding her ass with his long-fingered grip as he pries his trousers open one-handed. "But here I can look at my girl and the stars." Before Leah can think of any answer to that, he nudges her nose with his, her hair sliding across the polished transluminum viewport as he kisses her hungrily until she forgets, even if just briefly, why she tries.
2322
"I have to admit, Bones, you do have a point," Kirk murmurs conversationally into Leah's hair, tucked firm and warm along her back, his hard arm draped loosely over her belly.
Her first muzzy thought is that she was damn near asleep, and he's woken her up to the smouldering strain deep inside her biceps and triceps from holding herself up, the lingering aches in her wrist and her throat. She blinks and dizzily remembers how a panicky corner of her brain kept shrieking that he was pushing her over emptiness with each thrust and how that made her clutch him all the tighter, how she gripped his hot damp skin with her palms and thighs as he bounced her between the hard wall and his hard body, how she whimpered and shuddered and swore as he laughed into her mouth. For a moment Leah just grumbles wordlessly, shifting away from Kirk onto her belly, sinking her face into the pillow as she chases sleep.
Then she remembers what he's on about, what they were discussing, and rolls all the way over as she wakes up, tipping her face back up as she mumbles, "Kirk?"
"Yes, honey?" Leah huffs at that, rubbing her eyes as she rolls them, and both lets and makes Kirk wrap his arm around her waist and bodily tug her towards him until her breasts brush his chest. "So, Jojo's getting to be a big girl, isn't she."
"Bigger and smarter every day." Leah looks up into Kirk's eyes, sleepy twilight blue in the low light but sharp as ever. "She's running out of distance lessons, and I think she could use some structure and classes."
"And good influences," Kirk says with a little squeeze and a smarmy grin.
Leah tucks her arm between their bodies like the flimsiest of shields, making herself inhale and exhale before she answers. "I think she's outgrowing this environment," she says in her most professional voice, hoping he'll hear her, expecting him to laugh.
He does as he kisses her forehead, his mouth vibrating with chuckles. "But, Bones, the whole ship loves your little girl."
"And that helps?" Leah pushes up on her elbow, energized by irate memory. "She's asking me about who's sleeping together, she's getting into fights --" She doesn't bring up the uniform this morning, instead continuing with, "The other day I caught Sulu teaching her how to clean a dagger!"
Kirk rolls his shoulder in a muscular shrug, sliding his hand up Leah's ribs. "She's some lessons ahead on any Imperial Academy prep curriculum."
"She's not going to a pre-Fleet program," Leah sits up. "I want her safe. The Imperial Fleet's not safe, bottom to top, anywhere."
"Oh, I don't know." Kirk tilts his head as he looks at her, and she folds her arms under his heavy gaze. "What makes you think you get to decide?"
Leah knew he'd try that. She digs her nails into her arm to make herself say instead of shout, "She's my daughter."
"And my ward." Kirk nestles his hand over her hip as if he can intimidate her by feeling her up, but it's not like he hasn't had his hands all over her a thousand times before. "Along with you."
"You're not -- " Looking down into his amused face, Leah can't make herself say 'you won't kill her,' that old bluff she never dared call. "You don't want to break her." Belatedly, she hears her voice thickening, but backing down now is as good as consigning Joanna to the inevitable disaster. "So you might as well send her somewhere that'll actually be good for her."
"I don't know, Bones, Jojo doesn't need the gentle treatment you do." Kirk drags the words out, lazily groping up her side, sliding his hand over her folded arms. "The other day when she socked Tanvir -- oh, you should've seen her proud little face." He tweaks Leah's nipple, and she grits her teeth, reminding herself not to swat at his impertinent hand. "I think my ship's providing her an excellent education."
"I want my daughter off this debauched rattletrap before she gets any closer to grown!" Leah presses her hand to her mouth, but the words are out, and when Kirk surges up she flinches, thinking every curse she knows at once. If she's spoiled Joanna's chances --
Kirk strokes his knuckles lightly over her cheek, a strange intensity in his night-dark eyes. "I can't have my girls insulting each other," he says softly, and Leah nods, trying not to tremble, wondering if he'll slap her. He doesn't, but he cups her jaw, pinching her chin to hold her where he wants her. "Jellico Academy," he orders. "When she's fourteen she can apply to the Imperial Academy or to a civilian program, anywhere she likes." He pets Leah's throat so delicately, settling the tip of his forefinger in her suprasternal notch. "As long as you take better care of my favorite doctor, I'll take care of your daughter. Is it a deal, McCoy?"
Jellico Academy is so high on her mental list Leah wonders if Kirk hacked her search logs. She nods, and his mouth downcurves in a tiny little terrifying scowl, his fingers bracketing her throat. "Yes, Captain," Leah whispers, taking the hint.
Kirk smiles again, pushing gently on her chest, settling his arm back across her waist. "Then let's grab a nap. I don't know about you, Bones, but you wore me out!"
Leah rolls her eyes at him, his laughter echoing in her ears as she pushes her eyelids shut and makes herself breathe.
0458
As she sometimes does, Leah dreams about her father, smoky mists blowing between them as he reaches out to her, the wind stealing his voice as he tries to tell her something. All she can see are the wide eyes she inherited from him, his mouth moving soundlessly as he fades into darkness and the streaming wind rips away her air; she can't breathe and her aching ribs wake her up, bound by Kirk's constricting arm. She gulps a breath and wriggles carefully, shifting up the bed until his tight hold settles around her waist rather than her lungs, while he presses his face against her shoulder and slings a leg across her thighs as if to keep her from escaping him.
Once she can actually breathe Leah gives in and lies still again, and Kirk settles back down as well. She blinks in the dimness, no light but warp-flickering starshine, and feels Kirk clutching her as he sleeps. Deep into one long dark night, while he was drunk and dozing, his arm hard and hot clamped around her waist, he murmured in Leah's ear that he loved sleeping beside her, that she was safe and warm.
She's never forgotten that admission. Kirk fucks half the ship, but she's the only one he sleeps with, because he trusts her.
Leah exhales into the darkness, feeling the rhythmic push against her side as Kirk's chest rides and falls. A sudden thought flickers behind her eyes: Kirk trusts her. He thinks she won't hurt him. She's inside his guard. She could kill him.
She dismisses it just as quickly; if she wants to die there are much less painful ways than the public execution Spock would give her in reward for that unwanted promotion. Besides, Kirk gave her Joanna's life back, and now he's promised to set her daughter free. The air above Leah's face is full of his warm musk, and she's... gotten used to him, she thinks, turning her head to look at the tousled tips of his hair, pale in the scanty starlight.
He has the ruffled hair and the sweet smile of a boy, and last week he destroyed a peaceful vessel that refused to submit to a capricious search. At his direction, in a handful of days the Enterprise will drop out of some planet's sky and turn its people's lives upside down. Leah shuts her eyes against the darkness, against what she helps Kirk and his crew do by keeping them hale and whole, against everything she's done for her daughter, or so she knows she tells herself.
She thinks of her father, she thinks her chest is tightening with tears of shame, until she gasps under Kirk's steely arm and he smiles against her shoulder. "Morning, Bones," he murmurs over her skin.
"Good morning, Captain," Leah mutters back, trying to sound thick and groggy. "My shift's not till 1000 hours, should I return to my quarters?"
"Lights, 25%," he replies, rearing up over her, catching her wrist when she tries to cover her face. She groans, about to curse, and he kisses her, his lips chapped silky-rough, his mouth sleep-sour. He cages her with his sinewy body, sliding his other hand broad and warm down her ribs, throwing every square millimeter of her skin into high sensory relief.
"Oh, you can't be serious," Leah argues as he presses down hard against her hip, his toothy grin unfurling above her nose, his eyes translucent and glinting in the low light. "It's too damn early and I'm going back to sleep."
"Yeah, you've been looking tired lately." Kirk pins her wrist to the mattress, shifting to press his knee up between her thighs until she squirms. "That's why I gave you that night off." She dares to push her free hand against his chest, but he cups her breast, thumbing her nipple, and the answering quiver undermines her strength. "Now rise and shine, Bones, I've got a long full day ahead and I want a happy start to it."
"Let me roll over, then, and we can both have what we want, because I'm done for awhile yet." It's pointless, Leah knows, she can already feel traitorous currents of heat rising within her, but she pushes until Kirk pries his hand off her breast to pin both her wrists. All she accomplishes by writhing is grinding down against his hard thigh, sensation surging hot up her nerves; his eyes gleam as he pushes her hands together over her head, his teeth shine sharp as he crosses her wrists to pin them firmly in one grip. All she can do is gasp and strain and squeeze her eyes shut, the universe collapsing to the bed beneath her and the demanding man above her.
"C'mon, Bones," Kirk says as he slides his freed hand down her trembling belly and wedges her thighs apart with his, as her breathing shudders faster and she feels him watch her shake, "we both know better than that."
0605
When Leah's internal timer tells her she can't put it off any longer, she turns off Kirk's shower and hauls herself out. He spent a long time working her up, avidly watching her squirm and scream before he got on with his own pleasure, and she aches all over, everywhere he bit her and everywhere he kissed, every throb flaring with each step. As she drags it on her uniform rubs coarsely against her sore skin, and she just plain feels worked over.
Like usual, not that she'll ever get used to it.
She closes her eyes and puts her hair back up by sense memory, not looking at herself in the mirror, then sets one foot before the other until she's back inside the bedroom. Kirk smiles up at her from his bed, the sheets pooled around his naked hips as he lounges against the pillows, absently fiddling with the regenerator they keep in his quarters. He holds it out to her like a king extending a scepter; she bites her lip on what she'd like to say, takes it and sits down beside him to heal up the itchy bite behind her ear, then the still-stinging one on her neck. The whole time she listens to the little wet sounds and satisfied hums as he licks his fingers, his gaze heavy and unwavering, insufferable pleasure radiating off him in tangible waves.
Once her neck's done, Leah considers the regen in her hand. To heal anywhere else she'd have to undress again, and she doesn't want to give Kirk the chance to forbid her. Muttering, "Thank you, Captain," she pushes herself up, and he doesn't stop her as she pulls on her boots and limps away
Leah has wobbled almost as far as the door when Kirk's quiet, "Bones," sticks her feet to the floor. She stares at the brushed titanium, wanting to reach out and press her palm to it for support, wanting to lie down on either side of it; the back of her neck prickles as she hears him stand up, as she listens to each soft bare-soled footfall. She shivers in front of his door as he walks up behind her, slowly enough to make her twitch, and presses every inflexible inch of his front against her back.
With deadly softness Kirk slides his hand around Leah's waist, nosing her hair, musky and redolent of sex; tension twangs down her ruler-straight spine, but her mouth waters. "Come here," he murmurs into her hair, tilting up her chin with two fingers, and though her guts squirm and she aches under her clothes she obediently tips her head back and does kiss him. "Enjoyed yourself?" he asks her, something like tenderly, fingers curved to her cheek.
She answers, soft against his lips, "Go fuck yourself and let me leave, Sir," as if he hasn't just fucked her with excruciatingly thoroughness, as if he couldn't immerse her in agony on a whim.
He laughs against her mouth, because he did, and squeezes a handful of her ass as he pushes her forwards. "Go on, give Joanna my love," he chortles as the door opens, and she staggers out without glancing back at him grinning and naked behind her.
The trudge back to her quarters is blurry with exhaustion, and when she fetches up against her door Leah leans on it and considers going to sleep right there in the corridor, but that would probably be a bad idea. Instead she keeps herself blinking and awake a few moments more, long enough for a yeoman to arrive looking about as wobbly as she feels and carrying a covered tray.
"Thanks, kid," Leah manages to murmur with disgraceful informality as she takes the tray, and the girl tosses her a sloppy salute and staggers away. Leah palms the door open, carries the tray inside, and sets it down beside her as she drops onto her bed.
"Momma?" Joanna calls drowsily.
"Morning, Jojo, got a treat for you after you wash up." The bed feels ridiculously soft and warm beneath her, but passing out right now would be procrastination. After Kirk promised her what she asked for, and entered it in the Ship's Log as she watched, after she commed Chapel out of a sound sleep and watched her weary face brighten at the offer, Leah needs to make herself do this before she never does.
Still, her eyes prickle when Joanna bounces into the room, when her daughter lifts up the tray's cover, inhales the sweet toasty smell, and grins in delight as she shouts, "Muffins!" Leah presses her hand to her mouth to hold the tears back, but some ragged edge to her breath betrays her; Joanna looks up, a half-eaten muffin in her hand, wide eyes suddenly sharpening with realization.
Leah's throat tightens as she reaches out for Joanna's other hand, cradling its delicate length between hers, but her voice only wobbles a little when she begins, "Baby, I need to tell you something."
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: R
Pairing: James T. Kirk/Dr. Leah McCoy; Kirk/Riley, M'Benga/OC, Chapel/Scott, Chapel/Giotto, others discussed.
Summary: One particular day in the life of Dr. Leah McCoy, CMO of the ISS Enterprise.
Content Advisory: Mirrorverse, genderswap, het, slash, violence, dubious consent.
Acknowledgements:
asimaiyat, kittyjimjams and echoinautumn.Disclaimer: This fanwork has been created for pleasure only and not for profit.
Title from "Fire and Ice" by Robert Frost
Link to Part 1
1850
After Leah's taken a shower and put on a fresh uniform, after she's pinned up her bun again, kissed Joanna goodnight and left her reading in bed, when the door slides shut behind her Leah turns around and taps in the code to lock her quarters. Now besides her only Chapel or the Captain can get in, or so she's been assured; but then, although he's taken a great deal of entertainment from Leah's efforts to protect her daughter, Kirk does seem invested in helping her do so, at least so far.
Leah takes a breath and pushes that line of thought away, but what drifts in to replace it is the haunting memory of her lunchtime chat with M'Benga, the story of the unnamed young man he'll never see again. What comes to her mind are her increasingly frequent thoughts that Joanna needs to be somewhere else before Kirk's particular mercy wears thin, the knowledge that wherever that is will be somewhere Leah can't be.
So she puts off dinner and all her swirling thoughts a little longer by taking one more swing through Sickbay. On the way she passes Giotto, leaning against the bulkhead as if he thinks anyone could miss two-meters-plus of bulky blockheaded Security XO. From the corner of her eye she watches his eyes follow her, and keeps herself from speeding up or otherwise showing she took any notice of him. She doubts he's there on the Captain's business; Kirk has better ways of keeping tabs on her.
Sickbay is relatively peaceful, a proper contingent of guards flanking the door, M'Benga at the duty desk. They exchange nods, and Leah flicks through the biobed readouts and gives Orri'ah, Rand and Chitalen visual once-overs. When she heads for her office, Chapel slips in a step behind her, so Leah locks the door and looks Chapel over as well. Arms wrapped around herself, she's wearing a female uniform, nurse-white rather than Science blue and all too skimpy on her tall frame. She looks chilled and underdressed even before she holds out her arm, never once looking directly at Leah.
Chapel's wrist is ringed with bruises from strong fingers, fresh red marks branding pale skin. "Broken?" Leah asks in a sigh. Chapel shakes her head, and Leah pulls a regenerator from her desk drawer, automatically scanning it against its template in her tricorder before she switches it on. "Any others?"
Chapel shakes her head again. "When I told Scott I wasn't seeing him tonight, I thought I was out of arm's reach. Had to pull a blade to get away." She smiles wryly, still looking down.
Leah's laugh is soft and bitter. She's misjudged a man's reach herself, once or twice. "He knows better than to break into my quarters, and Joanna always loves a sleepover."
Chapel finally meets Leah's eyes, her smile fading and her tight eyebrows easing. "Thanks, but I think I'll be all right. At least, Giotto had better be worth betting on."
Leah hoists an eyebrow at this revealed shenanigan. "Try not to start something we can't handle, Helen of Troy," she says, and Chapel's cheek dimples. "I'm serious, woman. I need my head nurse in one piece, and the Captain won't thank you if someone useful winds up dead."
Chapel looks down at her hand, lax and half-curled in Leah's hold. "I know. I think I can manage not to provoke a direct fight. I just..." Leah shuts off the regenerator, and Chapel shuts her eyes, cradling her freshly healed wrist in her other hand. "I'm tired of this," she almost whispers, and Leah goes cold at the impending confession. Why today, why her? She's a doctor, not some kind of counselor. But she listens, and Chapel continues. "I'm so tired. Ever since I found Roger, I've been thinking ... I got what I deserved for looking for him, for joining the 'Fleet in the first place."
Leah gasps, loud in her quiet little office, but Chapel doesn't react or move. This must be the first time Chapel's mentioned her ill-fated fiance Professor Korby since the Enterprise happened upon his little android factory, since he sent one of his walking dolls to impersonate Kirk and got all his work destroyed along with himself for the trouble. Leah feels a little guilty for not regretting Korby's death, but she still remembers the mess he caused, the sheer scientific waste when Kirk torpedoed his android base, the hard textured floor beneath her knees when she begged Kirk for Chapel's life. She still remembers the only time she's seen Chapel cry, and thinks angry thoughts in the lightless depths of her heart about the men that women can't be rid of even after they're dead.
Dead or alive, she silently amends, thinking both she and Chapel could really use a hug. Instead she asks lightly, as if they weren't inside a warship brimming with brutality, as if either of their lives were their own, "Where else would you go?"
Chapel's shoulder jerks in a brittle shrug, but she eases her arms from clutching herself to simply folded and looks at Leah again. "I have no idea," she says with another shrug, dismissing the whole conversation, straightening her back and holding her head high.
Leah knows too well how hollow that stance feels. She reaches out to open the door and says, "Have a good evening, Chapel," though the words taste like ash.
"You too, McCoy," Chapel says, her sardonic tone matching Leah's grim expectation, and they head out.
2014
Dinner dishes are strewn across the folding table, the lights dimmed to a level that's supposed to be romantic but just causes eyestrain, and Leah sits in her chair, rolling the lingering taste of chocolate on her tongue as she watches Kirk. He, meanwhile, stares through his vertigo-inducing viewport at the streaked blackness of space at Warp, shoulders squared and arms folded, shadows outlining curves of dense muscle. Until a few moments ago he was pacing as if he wished he had a tail to lash, impatient enough to make her worry, the tension strangling her appetite, and when his comm chimed with a message she carefully held still as she watched him read it.
Besides, considering the menus Kirk always sets when he has Leah to dinner, full of temptations and low on fiber, she's probably had enough food. The last piece of cake sits mournfully untouched, but when Kirk whirls around Leah flinches, barely managing to keep from showing it, her belly clenching around what little she's eaten.
He's smiling at least, bright in the dim room and sunny like an excited boy, and when he crooks his forefinger Leah gets up before she remembers to be resentful. "Now, this is a secret, Bones," he tells her, and grins when she rolls her eyes, "but our next mission's finally something besides shopping trips and toting dignitaries around."
"Oh, good," Leah answers, folding her arms, "because I for one am just so tired of peaceful diplomacy and relative quiet."
Kirk's eyes sparkle at her sarcasm. "Astrometrics just confirmed that one of the open clusters I had them look at has a pretty high chance of dilithium-bearing inner planets. None of the systems are marked as claimed on the maps or buoy charts, so we're going to go fix that." He gestures expansively towards the seeming hole in the wall and the stars outside it, his blue eyes absolutely shining. Something inside Leah sways towards him, warming with his excitement until he says, "And the best part is, at least two of the planets are probably civilized!" Of course. "Future loyal subjects for the Empire," he concludes, his grin widening to sharklike.
Leah's blood runs cold. "Oh, hooray, warfare and carnage!" She takes a step back. "Then I've got a Sickbay to prepare--"
Kirk takes two forwards, catching her wrist, his glee unflagging. "Remember, it's a secret. You'll brief your staff when I tell you to, not before, and you won't lay in extra supplies or make any moves that might tip off inquiring minds. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Captain," Leah sullenly agrees, tugging her trapped hand. Kirk doesn't let go, but he doesn't tighten his grip past mild restraint, either. "Can I at least ask for an ETA?"
"You can ask me anything, baby." Kirk leers, because he's himself. "Three days, maybe a little longer." He tugs her wrist, lightly for him, and she didn't really think she would get two nights off, so she steps in close enough for him to wrap his other arm around her, close enough to rest her forehead against the smooth skin below his collarbones.
Three days before the next time the officers and crew of the Enterprise fling their heavily-armed selves off-ship and come back mangled for her and her staff to put back together. Tonight Kirk's in an expansive mood, his cheer surrounding them like a warm bubble. Leah takes a breath, her eyes closed against the dip of his vest and the muscled planes of his chest, and asks, "Captain?"
"Oooh, 'Captain' twice in a row! You must want something, Bones." Leah's cheeks burn because he's right, and she grits her teeth, trying to force out her request instead of a snarl. "Let me guess. I've already confirmed Rand's medical leave; I had no idea those Theeminite ambassadors had it in their lazy little selves to be so rough on a girl." He sounds just a shade off sincerely surprised, and Leah can just picture the lifted eyebrows and wide-eyed innocence she'd see if she raised her head. "Is it that idiot Stilin who shot up Sickbay? I won't kill him, I promise. Won't even lop off an antenna. If I did in every hothead who tried to settle their love affairs with a phaser I'd have to run half the ship myself! But you can't have this one when he gets out of the Booth. Send a nurse by his quarters to check on him if you want."
Leah's halfway through a nod when Kirk's, "That reminds me," freezes her, a lump of ice congealing in her gut even before his grip tightens on her wrist hard enough to mash new bruises atop old. "Who told you to throw yourself in front of his phaser?"
"I wasn't letting him shoot my patient," Leah replies into Kirk's chest, her voice trembling more than she wants, but her wrist throbs inside the manacle of his fingers and she won't beg him, not for herself, she won't. "Or anyone else."
"Oh, Bones." Kirk sweeps his hand down her arm and catches her other wrist; a little relieved gasp escapes her as he eases up on the pressure, settling her hands palm to palm between his. "What do I have to do to teach you not to risk my favorite doctor? How about if we try something kinda weird. You tell me what you want, and I'll let you have it if you promise to behave."
Leah looks up at Kirk's indulgent smirk, and hauls in a breath all the way to the bottom of her lungs. "Anything I want."
Kirk rolls his eyes ceilingward as if considering. "Almost anything," he drawls, and grins blindingly. "Try me and find out."
Leah swallows, her throat tightening. Maybe she should ask for something less risky... but sometimes she just knows what to prescribe or where to cut, and she knows this is her chance. "Captain Kirk, I want Joanna to go back to Earth for school."
It's Kirk's turn to freeze, his eyes narrowing to glints, little creases bookending his drawn-down eyebrows as his full mouth tightens. "And where do you plan to be, Dr. McCoy?" he asks, and Leah shivers, cold with fear over a little flare of heat undampened by dully familiar self-revulsion.
She swallows hard, rivulets of pain crackling down her nerves under Kirk's tightening fingers, and gasps, "Here, of course." Kirk's eyes lighten a fraction, his grip easing, and she tugs her hands free, hissing as she cups her bruised wrist. "Ow. This ship needs a CMO and she needs her damn hands intact."
"Oh, let me see that." Kirk's smile unfurls, narrower than before, and Leah's belly wobbles with uncertainty as she holds her hand out. He curves his fingers delicately beneath her wrist, lifting it to brush his lips over her pulse like he did this morning. "There, all better."
"You have a medical degree I don't know about, Sir?" Leah asks, flexing it. It aches, but not as if anything's broken. Kirk just grins again, like always.
Then he grabs her up, hands clamped round her upper arms, shocking a gasp out of her as he swings her up against the viewport. "No, I just know how to take people apart," he says, pushing her into the wall with his chest, reaching between them to undo her sash. "I've got you to put them back together."
Here? she thinks, trying not to glance across at the bed, which is at least soft and warm and otherwise comfortable. "I'm here to do that," she tells him, trying to breathe against his crush, trying keep herself from falling by looping her arms behind his neck and hooking her thighs around his waist, "but Joanna doesn't need to be here too," and she focuses on the manic gleam in his eyes, his broad hand at her hip, trying not to think about sending her daughter away, trying not to foresee that emptiness.
Kirk can certainly give her enough to think about with one maddening shrug as he unfastens her trousers. "I'll consider it," he says negligently. "Come on."
Struggling to hold herself up, Leah ducks his kiss. It's risky, but even Kirk has only two hands. "But this is--!" Important fades on her lips as Kirk's eyes flare, and Leah redirects, "How am I supposed to think about anything else?"
Damn it all, he takes it as a dare. "Oh, I bet I can make you," Kirk replies, pressing harder, crushing her between his warm hardness and the cool wall as he grabs her hair and kisses her. Leah 'mmphs' annoyance but Kirk tilts his head, kissing her with soft fervency, cupping her face in his hands until she starts to melt, until she almost doesn't care that she can't breathe. He kisses her until her skin prickles against her uniform and her trousers sliding down her hips feels like shedding a snakeskin.
It takes just about everything, digging down deep, for Leah to keep herself from moaning until Kirk lets her mouth go, to hold back as he kisses along her jaw to her ear, to make herself say as he pushes her knees up and hauls her trousers down over them, "This bulkhead's cold, isn't there a bed in here?"
"A nice big soft one," Kirk rumbles, teeth and tongue against her ear as he tugs her thighs back up around his waist, branding her ass with his long-fingered grip as he pries his trousers open one-handed. "But here I can look at my girl and the stars." Before Leah can think of any answer to that, he nudges her nose with his, her hair sliding across the polished transluminum viewport as he kisses her hungrily until she forgets, even if just briefly, why she tries.
2322
"I have to admit, Bones, you do have a point," Kirk murmurs conversationally into Leah's hair, tucked firm and warm along her back, his hard arm draped loosely over her belly.
Her first muzzy thought is that she was damn near asleep, and he's woken her up to the smouldering strain deep inside her biceps and triceps from holding herself up, the lingering aches in her wrist and her throat. She blinks and dizzily remembers how a panicky corner of her brain kept shrieking that he was pushing her over emptiness with each thrust and how that made her clutch him all the tighter, how she gripped his hot damp skin with her palms and thighs as he bounced her between the hard wall and his hard body, how she whimpered and shuddered and swore as he laughed into her mouth. For a moment Leah just grumbles wordlessly, shifting away from Kirk onto her belly, sinking her face into the pillow as she chases sleep.
Then she remembers what he's on about, what they were discussing, and rolls all the way over as she wakes up, tipping her face back up as she mumbles, "Kirk?"
"Yes, honey?" Leah huffs at that, rubbing her eyes as she rolls them, and both lets and makes Kirk wrap his arm around her waist and bodily tug her towards him until her breasts brush his chest. "So, Jojo's getting to be a big girl, isn't she."
"Bigger and smarter every day." Leah looks up into Kirk's eyes, sleepy twilight blue in the low light but sharp as ever. "She's running out of distance lessons, and I think she could use some structure and classes."
"And good influences," Kirk says with a little squeeze and a smarmy grin.
Leah tucks her arm between their bodies like the flimsiest of shields, making herself inhale and exhale before she answers. "I think she's outgrowing this environment," she says in her most professional voice, hoping he'll hear her, expecting him to laugh.
He does as he kisses her forehead, his mouth vibrating with chuckles. "But, Bones, the whole ship loves your little girl."
"And that helps?" Leah pushes up on her elbow, energized by irate memory. "She's asking me about who's sleeping together, she's getting into fights --" She doesn't bring up the uniform this morning, instead continuing with, "The other day I caught Sulu teaching her how to clean a dagger!"
Kirk rolls his shoulder in a muscular shrug, sliding his hand up Leah's ribs. "She's some lessons ahead on any Imperial Academy prep curriculum."
"She's not going to a pre-Fleet program," Leah sits up. "I want her safe. The Imperial Fleet's not safe, bottom to top, anywhere."
"Oh, I don't know." Kirk tilts his head as he looks at her, and she folds her arms under his heavy gaze. "What makes you think you get to decide?"
Leah knew he'd try that. She digs her nails into her arm to make herself say instead of shout, "She's my daughter."
"And my ward." Kirk nestles his hand over her hip as if he can intimidate her by feeling her up, but it's not like he hasn't had his hands all over her a thousand times before. "Along with you."
"You're not -- " Looking down into his amused face, Leah can't make herself say 'you won't kill her,' that old bluff she never dared call. "You don't want to break her." Belatedly, she hears her voice thickening, but backing down now is as good as consigning Joanna to the inevitable disaster. "So you might as well send her somewhere that'll actually be good for her."
"I don't know, Bones, Jojo doesn't need the gentle treatment you do." Kirk drags the words out, lazily groping up her side, sliding his hand over her folded arms. "The other day when she socked Tanvir -- oh, you should've seen her proud little face." He tweaks Leah's nipple, and she grits her teeth, reminding herself not to swat at his impertinent hand. "I think my ship's providing her an excellent education."
"I want my daughter off this debauched rattletrap before she gets any closer to grown!" Leah presses her hand to her mouth, but the words are out, and when Kirk surges up she flinches, thinking every curse she knows at once. If she's spoiled Joanna's chances --
Kirk strokes his knuckles lightly over her cheek, a strange intensity in his night-dark eyes. "I can't have my girls insulting each other," he says softly, and Leah nods, trying not to tremble, wondering if he'll slap her. He doesn't, but he cups her jaw, pinching her chin to hold her where he wants her. "Jellico Academy," he orders. "When she's fourteen she can apply to the Imperial Academy or to a civilian program, anywhere she likes." He pets Leah's throat so delicately, settling the tip of his forefinger in her suprasternal notch. "As long as you take better care of my favorite doctor, I'll take care of your daughter. Is it a deal, McCoy?"
Jellico Academy is so high on her mental list Leah wonders if Kirk hacked her search logs. She nods, and his mouth downcurves in a tiny little terrifying scowl, his fingers bracketing her throat. "Yes, Captain," Leah whispers, taking the hint.
Kirk smiles again, pushing gently on her chest, settling his arm back across her waist. "Then let's grab a nap. I don't know about you, Bones, but you wore me out!"
Leah rolls her eyes at him, his laughter echoing in her ears as she pushes her eyelids shut and makes herself breathe.
0458
As she sometimes does, Leah dreams about her father, smoky mists blowing between them as he reaches out to her, the wind stealing his voice as he tries to tell her something. All she can see are the wide eyes she inherited from him, his mouth moving soundlessly as he fades into darkness and the streaming wind rips away her air; she can't breathe and her aching ribs wake her up, bound by Kirk's constricting arm. She gulps a breath and wriggles carefully, shifting up the bed until his tight hold settles around her waist rather than her lungs, while he presses his face against her shoulder and slings a leg across her thighs as if to keep her from escaping him.
Once she can actually breathe Leah gives in and lies still again, and Kirk settles back down as well. She blinks in the dimness, no light but warp-flickering starshine, and feels Kirk clutching her as he sleeps. Deep into one long dark night, while he was drunk and dozing, his arm hard and hot clamped around her waist, he murmured in Leah's ear that he loved sleeping beside her, that she was safe and warm.
She's never forgotten that admission. Kirk fucks half the ship, but she's the only one he sleeps with, because he trusts her.
Leah exhales into the darkness, feeling the rhythmic push against her side as Kirk's chest rides and falls. A sudden thought flickers behind her eyes: Kirk trusts her. He thinks she won't hurt him. She's inside his guard. She could kill him.
She dismisses it just as quickly; if she wants to die there are much less painful ways than the public execution Spock would give her in reward for that unwanted promotion. Besides, Kirk gave her Joanna's life back, and now he's promised to set her daughter free. The air above Leah's face is full of his warm musk, and she's... gotten used to him, she thinks, turning her head to look at the tousled tips of his hair, pale in the scanty starlight.
He has the ruffled hair and the sweet smile of a boy, and last week he destroyed a peaceful vessel that refused to submit to a capricious search. At his direction, in a handful of days the Enterprise will drop out of some planet's sky and turn its people's lives upside down. Leah shuts her eyes against the darkness, against what she helps Kirk and his crew do by keeping them hale and whole, against everything she's done for her daughter, or so she knows she tells herself.
She thinks of her father, she thinks her chest is tightening with tears of shame, until she gasps under Kirk's steely arm and he smiles against her shoulder. "Morning, Bones," he murmurs over her skin.
"Good morning, Captain," Leah mutters back, trying to sound thick and groggy. "My shift's not till 1000 hours, should I return to my quarters?"
"Lights, 25%," he replies, rearing up over her, catching her wrist when she tries to cover her face. She groans, about to curse, and he kisses her, his lips chapped silky-rough, his mouth sleep-sour. He cages her with his sinewy body, sliding his other hand broad and warm down her ribs, throwing every square millimeter of her skin into high sensory relief.
"Oh, you can't be serious," Leah argues as he presses down hard against her hip, his toothy grin unfurling above her nose, his eyes translucent and glinting in the low light. "It's too damn early and I'm going back to sleep."
"Yeah, you've been looking tired lately." Kirk pins her wrist to the mattress, shifting to press his knee up between her thighs until she squirms. "That's why I gave you that night off." She dares to push her free hand against his chest, but he cups her breast, thumbing her nipple, and the answering quiver undermines her strength. "Now rise and shine, Bones, I've got a long full day ahead and I want a happy start to it."
"Let me roll over, then, and we can both have what we want, because I'm done for awhile yet." It's pointless, Leah knows, she can already feel traitorous currents of heat rising within her, but she pushes until Kirk pries his hand off her breast to pin both her wrists. All she accomplishes by writhing is grinding down against his hard thigh, sensation surging hot up her nerves; his eyes gleam as he pushes her hands together over her head, his teeth shine sharp as he crosses her wrists to pin them firmly in one grip. All she can do is gasp and strain and squeeze her eyes shut, the universe collapsing to the bed beneath her and the demanding man above her.
"C'mon, Bones," Kirk says as he slides his freed hand down her trembling belly and wedges her thighs apart with his, as her breathing shudders faster and she feels him watch her shake, "we both know better than that."
0605
When Leah's internal timer tells her she can't put it off any longer, she turns off Kirk's shower and hauls herself out. He spent a long time working her up, avidly watching her squirm and scream before he got on with his own pleasure, and she aches all over, everywhere he bit her and everywhere he kissed, every throb flaring with each step. As she drags it on her uniform rubs coarsely against her sore skin, and she just plain feels worked over.
Like usual, not that she'll ever get used to it.
She closes her eyes and puts her hair back up by sense memory, not looking at herself in the mirror, then sets one foot before the other until she's back inside the bedroom. Kirk smiles up at her from his bed, the sheets pooled around his naked hips as he lounges against the pillows, absently fiddling with the regenerator they keep in his quarters. He holds it out to her like a king extending a scepter; she bites her lip on what she'd like to say, takes it and sits down beside him to heal up the itchy bite behind her ear, then the still-stinging one on her neck. The whole time she listens to the little wet sounds and satisfied hums as he licks his fingers, his gaze heavy and unwavering, insufferable pleasure radiating off him in tangible waves.
Once her neck's done, Leah considers the regen in her hand. To heal anywhere else she'd have to undress again, and she doesn't want to give Kirk the chance to forbid her. Muttering, "Thank you, Captain," she pushes herself up, and he doesn't stop her as she pulls on her boots and limps away
Leah has wobbled almost as far as the door when Kirk's quiet, "Bones," sticks her feet to the floor. She stares at the brushed titanium, wanting to reach out and press her palm to it for support, wanting to lie down on either side of it; the back of her neck prickles as she hears him stand up, as she listens to each soft bare-soled footfall. She shivers in front of his door as he walks up behind her, slowly enough to make her twitch, and presses every inflexible inch of his front against her back.
With deadly softness Kirk slides his hand around Leah's waist, nosing her hair, musky and redolent of sex; tension twangs down her ruler-straight spine, but her mouth waters. "Come here," he murmurs into her hair, tilting up her chin with two fingers, and though her guts squirm and she aches under her clothes she obediently tips her head back and does kiss him. "Enjoyed yourself?" he asks her, something like tenderly, fingers curved to her cheek.
She answers, soft against his lips, "Go fuck yourself and let me leave, Sir," as if he hasn't just fucked her with excruciatingly thoroughness, as if he couldn't immerse her in agony on a whim.
He laughs against her mouth, because he did, and squeezes a handful of her ass as he pushes her forwards. "Go on, give Joanna my love," he chortles as the door opens, and she staggers out without glancing back at him grinning and naked behind her.
The trudge back to her quarters is blurry with exhaustion, and when she fetches up against her door Leah leans on it and considers going to sleep right there in the corridor, but that would probably be a bad idea. Instead she keeps herself blinking and awake a few moments more, long enough for a yeoman to arrive looking about as wobbly as she feels and carrying a covered tray.
"Thanks, kid," Leah manages to murmur with disgraceful informality as she takes the tray, and the girl tosses her a sloppy salute and staggers away. Leah palms the door open, carries the tray inside, and sets it down beside her as she drops onto her bed.
"Momma?" Joanna calls drowsily.
"Morning, Jojo, got a treat for you after you wash up." The bed feels ridiculously soft and warm beneath her, but passing out right now would be procrastination. After Kirk promised her what she asked for, and entered it in the Ship's Log as she watched, after she commed Chapel out of a sound sleep and watched her weary face brighten at the offer, Leah needs to make herself do this before she never does.
Still, her eyes prickle when Joanna bounces into the room, when her daughter lifts up the tray's cover, inhales the sweet toasty smell, and grins in delight as she shouts, "Muffins!" Leah presses her hand to her mouth to hold the tears back, but some ragged edge to her breath betrays her; Joanna looks up, a half-eaten muffin in her hand, wide eyes suddenly sharpening with realization.
Leah's throat tightens as she reaches out for Joanna's other hand, cradling its delicate length between hers, but her voice only wobbles a little when she begins, "Baby, I need to tell you something."
