Rebound
Summary: "I think I would like to comfort you, Leonard." Gaila/McCoy, pre-Jim/McCoy, third in the Army AU series.
Rating: R
Disclaimer:Star Trek and everything affiliated with it belongs to Gene Roddenberry, JJ Abrams, and all those other cool cats who own it. All I own is the plot…
Doctor McCoy is sitting on a barstool, sipping on a bourbon when she slips onto the stool beside him.
"Whiskey on the rocks, please." She tells the bartender, then looks at him.
He looks like he's at the end of a weeklong bender—mud-crusted jeans and shoes, hole-ridden shirt, bags under his eyes. She, on the other hand, is stunning, wearing a mockup of their usual uniform—short shorts and a tight button up shirt with the sleeves and bottom half cut off so that it shows off her slightly muscled stomach, sneaker boots and a worn field cap, all in army brown.
"How's things, tall, dark, and brooding?"
"Private Wallace." He acknowledges her, tipping his glass in her direction. "I'm just drinkin' my troubles away, same as everyone else."
"Everyone else doesn't have quite as many troubles as you do." She observes, running her finger around the rim of the glass the bartender sets in front of her. She dips her finger in, then pops it in her mouth, sucking in a calculated way that—she knows from experience—is no less sexy for its obvious intention.
"We can't know that." He says.
She hums thoughtfully, then says, "I heard your divorce finally went through?"
He winces, sighs, and looks away from her. "Yeah."
"I…didn't hear how the custody battle went." She continues hesitantly.
He grimaces and tips back his glass, downing the rest of his drink in one go. "I can see her whenever Jocelyn decides it's okay." A pause, followed by a derisive chuckle. "Which means I'll be lucky if I can see her once or twice a year."
"It will…get better in time, Doctor." Hesitantly, she reaches over and puts a hand on his back. "Once her anger has cooled off, she will see that it is better for you to spend time with your daughter."
"No, she won't." He shakes his head and motions at the bartender to bring another drink, then massages the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger. "Maybe I should just…make a clean break of it, like she said. It'd be easier on Joanna."
She sees his shoulders tremble, just a little, and purses her lips together. "Doctor, my father 'made a clean break of it' when I was five years old, and I'm still recovering from it. You have no idea what I'd have given for…for a letter, or a phone call. She might resent you a little for not being there very often, but she'll resent you so much more for not being there at all."
He gives her this little half smile that makes her heart break. "Thanks, Private."
"You can call me Gaila." She says.
"Thanks, Miss Gaila." He says.
"You're very welcome…"
"Leonard." He says with a faint smile.
"Leonard." She lets her voice drop, leaning forward almost inadvertently. She sees his eyes flicker down for a split second before returning to her face, his cheeks turning a faint shade of red. "I think I would like to comfort you, Leonard."
"I don't think that would be appropriate." He says, but his voice is strained.
"You aren't my superior officer, technically." She says. "And you're officially single again."
"You don't want to play rebound for a cynical old bastard like me." He says. "Go find Jim, or—"
"I want you, tonight." She says, trailing her hand down his arm. "I know it'll only be one night, Leonard. But I think you need this, and I don't think I want to let anyone else give it to you."
"Miss Gaila…"
"Please, Doctor." She brings his hand up, nuzzling her cheek against it (the palm is smooth, but the tips of his fingers are rough; it feels divine against her skin). "You do so much for us…let me do this for you, just this once."
His hand cups her face, and he curls his other hand's pointer finger under her chin, tilting her face up so that he can brush his lips against hers.
She can hear the words he doesn't say.
(ITHINKILOVEPAGEBREAKS)
He certainly has a surgeon's hands, and she marvels at the fact that he has only ever used them this way on his ex-wife. She can't decide if she admires his loyalty, or laments the fact that this is the first night she has come into direct contact with them—the only night, more's the pity, but he seems determined to ensure that she receives the full experience.
His mouth is talented, too, already glistening from her second orgasm as he kisses a trail up her body, making short detours to each breast as his fingers…his fingers…
She gasps out his name and her back arches, her third orgasm washing over her with no less intensity than her first.
"I want you inside me, now." She says when she can talk again, cradling his face in her hands as she leans up and kisses him again. He makes an affirmative noise against her lips, lining up and pushing in with such tender care that she nearly weeps, because this night is supposed to be for him and she is beginning to think he doesn't know how to take, only give and give and give. "Stop holding back."
He lets out a breathy groan, and with a roll of his hips he begins to move. She tightens her channel and smiles into their kiss when he moans again, his hips jerking out of the rhythm he has set.
"Take what you need." She whispers, her breath stuttering when his movements quicken, his thrusts deep and hard. One of her hands grips his back, her nails scratching a trail of raised and reddened skin as her other hand tangles its fingers in his hair. He kisses her neck at that spot just below her ear that is a surprisingly erogenous area, then moves back to her mouth as he reaches down and presses his thumb against her.
"Come for me." He says. It is the first time he has spoken since they entered his quarters, and she hopes she can coax him into one last round in the morning so that she can hear his voice like this (low and gravelly and almost feral) one more time, but for now all she can do is cant her hips and cry out and come.
He, too, is in the throes of orgasm when she comes out of hers, his head tipped back, his mouth open, his eyebrows drawn together like he can't quite believe what is happening. When his head drops down onto her shoulder and his hips stop moving, she gently pushes him to the side and pulls their lower halves apart. Then she curls her legs over his and pillows his head with her arm.
"Go to sleep, Leonard." She whispers, and smiles when she realizes he already has.
She will be sore in the morning—gloriously sore from their sex but also from the way she has curled up around him—but this is one last bit of comfort that she can give him. So she runs her fingers across his cheek, then presses a kiss to the top of his head before settling in to sleep.
(ITHINKILOVEPAGEBREAKS)
She wakes up the next morning to his fingers on her again, and he makes her come twice more before he finally lets her leave his bed (the second time, she asks him to talk to her while he thrusts into her; he does, and she is convinced that she could come just listening to him). She showers, wishing that he would join her but knowing that he is too much of a gentleman to do so.
When she leaves, it is with a gentle kiss to her forehead.
As she walks away, she marvels at this man's capacity to love. Because he does love her—he isn't in love with her, of course, but he loves her all the same, and she is somewhat (but not really) surprised to find that part of her loves him, too.
When she goes to the mess hall, he is already eating. Jim Kirk is sitting across from him, and both men smile and nod at her when she passes them by.
She sits down next to Uhura and watches the two men argue almost playfully about something. And though she knows in her heart that she was the catalyst to Leonard's heart beginning to put itself back together, she can see that Jim is the one who will pick up the pieces.
The End
A/N: Have I ever said how much I absolutely adore Gaila? Because I don't think I have.
You guys: I ABSOLUTELY ADORE GAILA. No lie, she's my favorite minor character in Star Trek XI (closely followed by Cupcake).