This one is for onimosity.
Still keeping with the 'Snow Patrol Diaries', if you haven't discovered this great band, please do. Their music is soft, poignant, and heartfelt. It's also a bit angst filled at times, but isn't life. I refer to a few moments in 'Open Your Eyes' but it's not necessary to read before this one.
Disclaimer: Don't own Star Trek or any Snow Patrol lyrics, but I admire them greatly.
Set the Fire to the Third Bar
Nyota Uhura sat watching the flaming shot before her.
She murmured the drink's name, "Adios, mother…" the final word silenced by the liquid sliding down her throat. She motioned to the bartender for another drink and he shook his head 'no' in her direction. "Paying customer, another shot." Nyota dropped the bills on the bar and waited. Still shaking his head, the bartender delivered her drink and she sat in silent reverie. In a trance she didn't notice when the stool next to her became occupied. The bartender returned, placing a bottle and a glass in front of the new occupant.
"Looks like you have some competition tonight McCoy."
Nyota threw the drink back and made a move for the door.
"Sit down; don't make an old drunk kill this bottle alone."
His voice held comfort, while his eyes contained understanding. Nyota didn't want to cry, but she knew if she stayed too long or drank too much, it was inevitable.
"Thanks, but…"
"Suit yourself; I'm not going to beg." He'd already poured his first drink and touched his lips to the glass.
Nyota found her way back to the stool.
"You want to talk about it?" He growled.
"No." The only word she'd managed to get out since her attempt to leave.
By now everyone had heard the tale; the great intergalactic battle with Nero, the secret relationship with her former professor, and his decision to maintain his reputable character instead of pursuing anything further with the former cadet. Images danced across her mind, nights in the Commander's quarters, scrapes and bites the results from the sessions of love making, and the man beside her who was always there to pick up the pieces. McCoy had nursed her wounds, the physical and emotional ones. Never saying I told you so, but willing to share a drink, or dig a spoon into a pint of ice cream. He always said the same thing, "You'll heal kid."
Nyota brushed the back of her hand against the stubble forming on his cheek. "You will too."
His hand shot up and wrapped around the one she had placed on his face. Instead of brushing it away, he pressed it deeper into his skin and allowed his eyes to close. They finished the bottle in silence, each daring not to speak.
Quietly they found their way back to the temporary housing assignments established for the crew while the ship was docked and the personnel debriefed. His eyes had lingered on her longer than necessary once they reached the door to her room. Again, Nyota reached for his face, but this time McCoy intercepted her fingers before contact could be made. He gently squeezed her hand and gruffly told Nyota to get some rest.
The next two days Nyota and McCoy avoid one another. There is a dinner for the Enterprise crew, the cool kids. A, 'We Survived' type of celebration. Everyone is polite and gracious. The conversation is kept light. Jim tells jokes that are improper but perfect for keeping everyone's mind of what they've endured. Nyota does her best to avoid the curious stares of her former lover while trying to mask her own perusal of the ship's doctor. Nyota chooses the seat next to McCoy's, ignoring the obvious disapproval of her former professor. Instinctively she pours a glass of wine that he decides against for the liquid in the antique flask he pulls from his pocket. The wink and accompanying smirk is the first sign of her McCoy that she's since the bar. Nyota is sure that he insults Jim just to keep the smile plastered on her face and she rewards him with a deep laugh that echoes off the walls of the room. The tension that existed between them lifts and she has the urge to spend the rest of the evening cuddled up with the doctor over ice cream forgetting the ache she still feels in her heart. Instead she joins in his attack on their mutual friend Jim. Finally hearing a laugh leave the doctor's lips Nyota is satisfied.
This time they talk on the trip back to their rooms. Sharing funny stories they each remember. He reminds her of the constant exercise she gave her knee in response to Jim's poor pick up lines. She points out the countless crushes that many of the female medical cadets had on him, despite his poor bed side manner. Nyota's laugh faded as they reached the spot where she had shared countless midnight kisses with Spock during their tenure at the academy. When her eyes lock with McCoy's she recognizes the same vacant look. It is McCoy who reaches for her skin. He lightly traces a line from her cheek to the curve of her top lip. Then Nyota remembers, McCoy was always there, watching in the shadows to make sure she was okay. The night Spock attempted to end their blossoming relationship, when her persistence had broken down the Vulcan's resolve, and now McCoy stood with a different perspective of the memories she shared.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Nyota's voice came out in a whisper.
"Good night Nyota." There was a hint of finality to his tone.
That night she tosses and turns. Her dreams plagued with the look in McCoy's eyes when he said goodnight. Without thinking she finds herself standing in front of his door. She knocks, laughing, at the use of such old fashioned means to announce her presence. The door opens revealing darkness and the quiet hum of music in the background. The bed is untouched and McCoy is sitting facing the window with his leg lazily draped over the arm of the chair. The lights from the campus illuminate his form and she doesn't miss the flask cradled in his arm. His voice startled her.
"I knew you were trouble the first night I laid eyes on you."
"The night in the bar, when Jim ended up in a pile of peanut shells," Nyota couldn't help but to smile. "Leonard…"
"You never even noticed me or how much I wanted you; only the goblin."
Nyota's heart broke a little hearing the admission and acknowledging the truth in his words. She had chased a fantasy and used her friend to patch together the broken pieces of her heart. Crossing the room in the darkness, Nyota knelt in front of him.
"I'm sorry." The pain in his eyes was overwhelming. She knew that it wasn't all from waiting for her in vain. Much of it was defeat. McCoy had suffered loss of love and family. "I'm sorry." She whispered again, hoping the words would break through the haze surrounding him.
"You made me feel again. You made me want again." He was whispering, afraid to hear his own admittance.
Nyota removed the flask from his hand and pulled him from the chair. She held his hand tightly and led him to the bed. Motioning for him to join her on the bed, Nyota positioned his head in her lap. Stroking his hair she quietly repeated, "I see you. Finally, I see you."