ST: Love by a Song
He sighed, raking a hand through his chocolate hair before downing yet another brandy in one shot. They had had another fight, again, and he just couldn't figure it out. She was perfect, downright perfect, and he loved her with all his heart, but it seemed like she just hated him at times. She would purposely ignore his pleas and put herself in harm's way. She would be late to their dates, claiming the Bridge needed her, or she would go and get together with the other crewmen, ones he would always get jealous of. Then there was this last stupid stunt.
She wanted him, Doctor Leonard Horatio McCoy, to sit with her and decide which song was theirs. At first, it seemed like a cute idea, and he humored her for a time, but after four hours of nonstop music and having to give each one a rating from one to five, he snapped. He yelled at her, and he knew he shouldn't have, but he was just so fed up that he could hardly think straight. That thought of her possibly just tolerating him, not truly loving him, had been lingering in his mind all night.
He had that memory imprinted into his mind, the image of her still perfectly vivid. She had been simply sitting against the wall, her soft golden curls cascading over her shoulders and flocking her face in that adorable way that always made him smile. She had her deep side part, her silky locks positioned just in the right way so her heart-shaped face was accented perfectly. Then there was her form, and McCoy groaned just thinking about it. She was so beautifully petite (nearly a head shorter than him) with a divine hourglass figure and curves in the waist and chest that could make any man swoon.
"Oh, Darlin', what's wrong with me?"
He spoke out into space, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. He hadn't meant to make her cry, and finding tears in those delicate hazel eyes made him absolutely break. He never wanted that to happen. Hell, he didn't want half the stupid stunts he did to happen.
Still, he couldn't escape that itching feeling that she hated him, and he couldn't blame her after all he had done to her.
It was sometime later in the day when McCoy found himself standing outside her cabin, his knuckles gently rapping at her door.
"Jimmy? Jimmy, Darlin', I'm sorry."
He listened for an answer, but, instead of receiving, one he heard the faintest trickle of music from her room. He leaned in closer, pressing his ear to the door to listen upon hearing her voice too. Then he smiled, finally receiving the answer he truly desired, just not in the way he had imagined.
'Doctor, Doctor, gimme the news, I got a
Bad case of lovin' you
No pill's gonna cure my ill I've got a
Bad case of lovin' you'
It wasn't long before he found her arms wrapped around his neck, his around her waist, and he gave her a shower of kisses, mumbling, "I'm sorry" between each one. He didn't cease until she pulled away, stopping the descent of his lips in process.
"I love you. I don't think I say it enough, but I love you."
That was all he needed to hear, and he pulled her into his chest again before delving into a soft yet ravenously deep kiss. When they parted for breath, he pressed their foreheads together and placed a gentle kiss to her nose with a playful smile.
"Y'know, Darlin', I think we just found our song."