The Pillow
Author's Note: Just a silly little piece of nonsense fluff I wrote to make myself feel better. =)
Most of the command crew was assembled in the officer's lounge on deck 2, scattered around in the deep, plush, comfortable sofas that seemed to eat the occupant alive. Bones had made himself comfortable on one of the double seaters, leaning back, hands interlocked behind his head. A glass of scotch rested on the small table just to his left. The flow of conversation broke around him as he glowered up at the ceiling. Ever since she had arrived on board, his mood had gone progressively worse. Popular theory had it that he hated her. Jim claimed he had the hots for her and wanted to drag her into bed. Commander Spock seemed to believe it was a normal response in the Doctor when facing someone with injuries severe enough to force her into sick bay for two weeks, only to walk out after a week. She looked like a zombie, and Bones would be damned if he was going to run after her and force her to get better. Uhura suspected that Spock and Jim were both right. Bones would just never admit it.
The door to the lounge swished open softly, and the person in question walked in. Light brown hair fell in a straight, and admittedly silky looking curtain, down her back. Brown eyes with a hint of honey blinked as she took in the scene, seeming to decide where she wanted to sit. Dark smudges lined her eyes, and her skin seemed almost unnaturally pale.
"Reva! Good for you to join us." She smiled faintly at Jim, her long yellow skirt swishing around her legs when she slowly walked towards the corner where all sat grouped together. Not bothering to look at Bones, she collapsed onto the seat besides him. His eyes narrowed somewhat at her as he cataloged all the symptoms of insomnia, but he'd be damned if he would run after her as he did after Jim when the latter was being an idiot. Where Jim was the captain of the ship and needed to be functional, Reva was a civilian they had rescued from the Romulans, and whose negotiation skills had earned her a permanent place on the ship. The narrowed eyes blinked in surprise as she simply collapsed herself against him, using his chest as a pillow as she dragged her legs up and curled them onto the space to her right.
"Damnit woman, I'm a doctor, not a pillow." She chuckled softly, before settling herself a bit more comfortably against him.
"Yeah... but you make a really comfy pillow." Amidst the guffaws of laughter, Bones grumbled, considering how to best dislodge her from her position without losing too much of his dignity. Jim's sudden silence drew his attention, and he found the younger man staring at Reva with eyes wide open.
"I'll be damned." Bones raised one eyebrow, demanding an explanation. "She's asleep." Bones blinked and realized that her breathing had evened out and she seemed almost boneless. Five minutes. She fell asleep in less than five minutes. Quietly, and careful as to not budge her, he reached for his bag and the medical tricorder within. His grumbling grew louder when he caught sight of the first readings.
"Damnit woman. Why didn't you come and tell me you weren't sleeping?" Reaching for his bag again, he pulled out a hypo - ignoring Jim's wince - and carefully applied it to her bared neck. She made no movement as the slight sting of the injection occurred. Shaking his head softly, Bones carefully rearranged her, before standing up. With a nod goodbye, he reached down and carefully gathered her into his arms, gently settling her head against his shoulder, before carrying her to her quarters. Halfway - he had stopped right at his own door - he changed his mind, and walked into his room, carefully settling her onto his bed. He removed her shoes, and tucked her into the soft covers before heading down to sickbay for some more medications.
When he returned, she had curled herself up into a tight little ball, the faint sedative having done its job to keep her asleep. He sat down on the bed besides her, leaving the instruments and vials he had brought himself on his desk and ran one hand through her silky soft hair. He was right, it was like silk. Ever since she'd arrived on board, he'd wanted to loose his hands in those strands. Remembering her comment on his comfort factor as a pillow, he slipped off his shoes and shirt, pulled on a pair of sweats, and slipped into the bed besides her.
He suspected she would be angry with him in the morning, but the feeling of her slight, warm body besides his was compensation enough. His nose nuzzled into her hair, smelling the sweat perfume of whatever shampoo she used, he fell asleep and into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. Perhaps he should start chasing after her after all, restful sleep was a rare enough treat for him.