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Summary: Concerned about the budding relationship between Leonard and Uhura, Spock takes it upon himself to confront Leonard, while Jim talks to Uhura.
Author's Note: A huge thank you to Colours_Unseen over at LiveJournal, who was my beta reader for this fic.
Set: Takes place after Yet to Come.
Best Intentions
Sickbay had been hell during his double shift. He'd been scheduled for a regular single shift, but the Enterprise had run into an anomaly in space. The resulting electrical problems throughout the Enterprise had led to multiple injuries, which had led him to give up any hope of a relaxing evening alone with his thoughts, a mint julep, and the soothing music of his favorite 21st century crooner.
Leonard left it to Jim and everyone else to figure out what the anomaly was and how to fix the ship. He was the doctor, damn it, not the captain. His job was to fix people, not the ship.
Throughout his entire double shift, he barked orders at the other doctors and nurses under his watch. He ran his sickbay the best damn way he knew, and when everything had calmed down and his patients were sedated, patched up, resting, he sat down in his chair, slouching low. He ran a careless hand through his sweaty hair and allowed himself to enjoy the fade of the adrenaline rush.
He had been in his element. He'd missed that feeling – he hadn't really felt it since Starfleet had received the distress call from Vulcan and he'd suddenly found himself Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise. It was always the same: he'd feel weighed down by stress and tension and then adrenaline would pump through him, keeping him awake and alert, allowing him to work until his job was done, like he'd been born to do it. He supposed it was a little cracked, that he – a doctor – thrilled in the adrenaline rush like some common junkie. But it was there, after all, and not having it would be nearly unbearable.
Leonard hadn't heard from Uhura but realized that she was probably busy fixing components on the bridge, just as he was busy fixing people. No one knew the communications consoles like she did, and he knew that anyone helping her, even Chekov the whiz kid, would be second string at best.
The vast amount of time they spent apart from each other was to be expected; they were both professionals on the flagship of the Federation. Their schedules couldn't always mesh ideally and they could literally go days without as much as catching a glimpse of each other. Sometimes all they could manage was a brief nod, some small sign that they each understood that the other had obligations to fulfill.
They were taking it slow, after all.
He looked at the computer screen built into his desk. It was 0300 hours. He had less than four hours to sleep before he had to report back for his next shift. While he knew that Dr. M'Benga would have been more than willing to relieve him of his duty (in fact, it was generally agreed by the entire medical staff that he spent far more time working than his job really dictated), M'Benga had also pulled a double-shift – despite being officially off-duty for the day. No, having Dr. M'Benga fill in was unnecessary. Leonard was the CMO and it was his duty to report to work on time, every time.
He finally sat up, again running a hand through his hair, knowing it was completely mussed and in need of grooming. Leonard needed to shower and sleep so he could be ready for the long day that would inevitably be waiting for him.
Standing up, he turned off his computers and panels for the night and made his way out of sickbay.
Or he would have... if Spock hadn't chosen that exact moment to enter sickbay.
Damned hobgoblin, Leonard thought, even if there was no true malice behind it.
"Dr. McCoy, I require a few moments of your time, if you are agreeable," he said, standing formally as ever, hands clasped behind his back, face unreadable.
Leonard was extremely proud of himself for not sighing or rolling his eyes.
"Please, Mr. Spock, step into my office." He ushered Spock in front of him and asked the computer to turn the lights back on.
Spock made sure the door was closed and locked behind him before he stood over Leonard, who had sat down again.
Wishing he had some kind of alcohol in front of him, Leonard motioned to the chair in front of his desk.
"Please, have a seat."
"I prefer to stand," Spock said smoothly.
"And I would rather you sit down, since I've never been one for letting others talk down to me in my own sickbay. So please, Mr. Spock, have a seat."
There, that wasn't too rude.
Expression unreadable, Spock sat.
"Now, Mr. Spock, what can I do for you?"
Spock raised an eyebrow and steepled his fingers together.
"I would view my intention as obvious, Dr. McCoy, were I in your position."
"Indulge me, then." He really didn't have time for this – he had a shift in less than four hours.
"I wish to know of your intentions towards Nyota." Spock stated simply.
Leonard hadn't been expecting that.
"My intentions?" He asked, somewhat in shock.
"I am aware that you and she have a romantic association and as I consider her a personal friend, I wish to ensure that your intentions towards her are honorable."
"Is this some kind of a joke? Vulcan humor?" Leonard asked.
"I assure you, Doctor, I do not speak in jest. I take her well being very seriously. So I ask you again, what are your intentions towards Nyota?"
Leonard didn't consider himself a man prone to jealousy, but hearing her name on another man's lips, a man who had known her intimately, stirred an ugly feeling in him that he didn't care for.
"Whatever my intentions are, they are certainly none of your business, Mr. Spock. We are private people and whatever is between us is just that – between us."
"I do not wish to see her hurt," Spock said evenly.
"I understand that, but it's still none of your concern." Leonard retorted.
"Nyota is difficult at times and she sometimes requires a–" Spock was interrupted by the harsh bark of laughter that Leonard couldn't suppress.
"She's not difficult, Spock, she's human! Humans are emotional and irrational and a whole score of other things. I suppose to a race ruled by logic, she'd be considered difficult but I don't find her difficult at all. She's a competent, intelligent woman who is fully able to take care of herself. She doesn't need others cutting into her affairs either behind her back or in plain sight." He stood. "Now, Mr. Spock, if you are quite finished, I have to be back here at 0700 hours, I've yet to shower or sleep, and I would appreciate it if you would leave my office."
Wordlessly, Spock stood and left.
Uhura let a satisfied grin work its way across her face as she finished repairing the last of the damaged panels on the bridge. It had been long, painstaking work and she had loved every moment of it. Languages were her passion, it was true, but something about the physical consoles and panels just called to her. She supposed that it was that they were tangible, that she could actually feel them.
She looked around her, working out a crick in her neck. It was skeleton crew time on the bridge, except for Jim, who hadn't left.
"Lieutenant Uhura, you're done?" He asked with no trace of impatience in his voice.
"Yes, Captain, I'm finished. I'd like to run some diagnostics tomorrow, but I'll need Scotty's help with that."
Jim smiled.
"You realize that there are plenty of crew members who would have helped with all of this, right? You didn't have to fix every console on the entire ship."
Uhura laughed at Jim's exaggeration.
"I know that, but I like doing it, so it wasn't any great hardship, Captain. I can't have my tools going haywire on me now, can I?"
"Fair enough. I'd be doing the same if I was in your position, I suppose," Jim said, as he gallantly offered her a hand up off the floor. "Uhura, can I have a word with you?"
Taking his hand, Uhura stood up and shrugged.
"Would that word be business or personal?" She asked.
"Personal, but nothing inappropriate," Jim said honestly.
She nodded, still somewhat suspicious, but followed him into his ready room. She found his ready room charming, to a degree. There were no photos, save one: a picture of a smiling Jim and Leonard, taken during their second year at the Academy, the night before Jim's first attempt at the Kobayashi Maru. A model of the XCV 330 Enterprise was displayed next to a model of the NX-01 Enterprise, both replicas that Jim had built during his free time as a way of relaxing, he'd once told her. It was clean and relaxing and the complete opposite of what many would expect from Kirk's ready room.
"What do you want to talk about, then?" Uhura asked, taking a seat across from Jim by one of the replicators. She noticed that he generally avoided sitting by his desk to discuss personal matters – something she found rather noble of him.
"It's about Bones," Jim said quietly. He held up a hand to stop her imminent tirade about how their relationship was none of his business.
"I know that it's none of my business. You're a strong, capable Lieutenant and you're more than able to look after yourself. You're smart, caring, compassionate, and I trust you. I'm not questioning that, believe me. Whatever it is between you and Bones, it's none of my business and I'm not going to make it my business. I'm not worried about your intentions towards him or his towards you. You're both adults and that's that."
"Then what is it, Jim?" Uhura asked, confused.
"Just give me a second to think this over so I don't come across sounding like a patronizing ass, because I'm just trying to be a good friend here.
"Look, Leonard is my friend and he's been hurt bad. That first year at the Academy, he wasn't in the best place and he was almost a completely different person than the Bones you and I know today.
"He's also brilliant, if that's a strong enough word. Did you know that he actually developed a new surgical procedure for the brain? Something to do with neural tissue and creating some kind of a pathway for something… he told me the specifics but I couldn't understand a damn word he said, because I'm a captain, not a doctor. Anyway, he can take care of himself and I know he wouldn't do anything unless he'd thought it through. If he thinks he'll be happy with you, then I trust his judgment." Jim stopped for a moment and his gaze fell on the picture of him and Leonard.
"He can be hell to deal with, Uhura. Sometimes he gets into a mood for a week or more, and then he'll wake up one day, right as rain. He's sarcastic and biting and cynical as hell sometimes. He's not self-destructive or depressed or anything along those lines, but he isn't a walk in the park either. Most of the time he's perfectly normal, but he has his moments."
"Why are you telling me this, Jim?" Uhura asked.
"Because I care about you and I care about him. He's my best friend and I mean that with all my heart, no matter how damn sappy it sounds. He's my best friend and I want him to be happy. He deserves it."
"I want him to be happy too, Jim. I care about him," Uhura said honestly.
"I know that." He paused. "I'm not going to ask you not to hurt him, because that's going to happen in any relationship, no matter who the people are, and whether they're trying to or not. It's a part of life. Just promise me-" He stopped, not knowing the words to say.
Uhura nodded, understanding perfectly what Jim tried to say. It was the sort of thing that just couldn't be put into words, but was there.
"I promise, Jim," she said, standing.
"Thank you," Jim said, and patted her on the shoulder meaningfully as she left.
Leaving, she made her way to her quarters, thinking on what Jim had said.
The next few days passed without incident. Most of the damage had been repaired and Leonard and Uhura were able to spend a few moments talking. They hadn't even kissed; that night at that Federation gathering had been the most intimate they'd ever been. The various times they'd spoken had been wonderful enough that Uhura barely noticed that Leonard hadn't even tried to kiss her.
It was okay. They were taking it slow.
She ate her lunch without him, mostly. Some days he was able to join her, but they were usually rushed for some reason or another. Most of the time Leonard worked through his lunch breaks, usually on personal research. She didn't mind too much; she was often joined by Scotty and Chekov instead, who were absolutely adorable when they started talking about physics, trans-warp theorems and math, stealing glances at one another when they thought no one would notice.
One day, she was joined by Spock, which surprised her.
"Might I join you, Nyota?"
She nearly frowned. Spock saying her given name just didn't seem right anymore. It had been perfect before, but since they had stopped seeing each other it just left a hollow feeling in her stomach.
"Of course, Spock."
He sat down smoothly, setting his tray with a fruit plate and some kind of Andorian salad on the table between them.
"How is T'Pring?" Uhura asked.
"T'Pring is well. I believe she and Mr. Sulu are working on cross-breeding several types of flora that could be cultivated and adapt to New Vulcan."
"That would be good for your people," She said, struck by the awkwardness of the situation.
"Indeed it would," Spock said. Pausing, he studied her intently.
"I inquired about Dr. McCoy's intentions towards you. Though he would not answer, I do believe that he is sincere in his regard for you, Nyota."
"You... did what? Why would you do that?" She didn't understand and she felt... violated, in a way.
"I was worried for you, Nyota. I wanted to know that you will be looked after and cared for," Spock said quietly.
"I can't believe I'm having this conversation," Uhura muttered to herself. She tried to be understanding, to realize that Spock's perspective on appropriate human behavior was shaky at best. She tried to assure herself that he wasn't being patronizing on purpose, but intentional or not, he was being patronizing.
"What gives you the right to go behind my back and do something like that?" She demanded, the stirrings of anger lacing her voice.
"As I said, I wanted to know that you will be looked after and cared for," Spock reiterated.
"And here I thought that you trusted me, that you knew me," Uhura said.
"I trust in you implicitly and I know you very well, Nyota."
"Obviously you don't," Uhura said. It was eerie, how calm her voice was, save for the disappointment that coursed through her, gracing her words. "Because if you did, you would know that I don't need to be looked after. You would know that I'm capable of making my own decisions and taking care of myself. You would know that I've never had a relationship with any man because I needed him, but because I wanted him. So I don't think you know me as well as you claim to, Mr. Spock."
She could see it, the surprise in his expression.
"I meant no offense; I was merely concerned for your welfare," Spock said quietly.
"You can be concerned, Spock, any good friend would be. But your right to take the actions you did came to an end when our relationship did. It's not your place anymore, Spock," Uhura said, standing up. "You have to realized that there's a difference between being a concerned friend and being patronizing."
"I do apologize, Nyota," Spock said.
"I accept," Uhura said.
"You're still a dear friend to me, Spock, and I value our friendship – I always will." She felt a sudden sense of realization wash over her as she understood why she had been so bothered earlier when he had used her name. "And it's Uhura."
"Pardon?"
"My name is Uhura."
Sadness was apparent in Spock's eyes as he nodded.
She left him there with his thoughts and her uneaten lunch.
Leonard's day had gone slightly smoother than his previous few days. Five ensigns and two lieutenants were cleared for duty. His more severe cases, such as Lieutenant Combs, who had suffered third degree burns and a punctured lung, were on a steady, if slow, path to recovery. He checked over his patients and forwarded their more pertinent medical information to both Starfleet Headquarters and Jim.
He'd be able to relax a bit, which he looked forward to. Signing out of his computers and turning off the lights in his office, he waited for the briefest of moments until Dr. M'Benga came in for his shift, and left.
According to Jim, Leonard's quarters never looked "lived in." He'd tried explaining that he was a doctor, not an interior decorator, but by then Jim had usually found something else that held his attention. There were very few personal touches, it was true, but Leonard wasn't the type of person to broadcast his life story to the general population, whether by words or knick-knacks. His diplomas and awards were in his office in sickbay, along with his copy of the picture that Jim kept in his ready room.
Other than that, Leonard preferred a clean and organized living space where he wasn't bumping into various meaningful things that could break and never be replaced.
He crashed on his couch, contemplating the possibility of going to the mess hall as opposed to replicating something. The mess hall meant real food but large crowds of people. Replicating meant solitude, but food that wasn't actually…good. It was a surprisingly difficult decision; time to himself or a good meal.
His thoughts were interrupted by the chime on his door.
"Come in," Leonard said, getting up. He supposed he would just go to the mess hall, eat quickly and quietly, and return to his quarters to relax.
"Leonard, it's me." Uhura stood in his door way looking into his quarters.
"When I say "come in," I generally mean "come inside," not "stand awkwardly in the doorway." He smiled to show her he was merely joking.
Uhura snorted and walked in further, making sure the door closed behind her.
"Is this the part where I offer a drink or something along those lines?" Leonard asked.
"You're a doctor, not a host," Uhura said candidly. "I wouldn't worry about it. I just came off shift and I thought I would check to see if you weren't busy."
"I'm not busy, really. I thought I'd go and get dinner in the mess hall, actually. Would you like to come with me?" He asked.
"That would be nice, Leonard." She smiled only briefly, something that he noticed.
"Is something wrong? Are we at eating together yet?" Leonard asked.
"No, we're there, I'm sure of it." Uhura said. She paused as if debating whether to not to speak and then apparently decided to plow on. "Spock and I had an... interesting isn't the right word to use, more like upsetting, conversation. He said that he actually questioned you about your intentions towards me. I couldn't believe he'd do something so patronizing.
"I'm sorry for the way he acted. Spock is... he's trying his best to figure out what's appropriate and what's not and his intentions were good, but it made me so angry, the way he went about it. You shouldn't have had to deal with that. Are you okay, after dealing with him?"
Leonard sighed and motioned for her to join him on the couch. She settled herself next to him, smiling when his arm tentatively wrapped around her shoulders. It was nice, the closeness. It felt comfortable and natural and right.
"Spock came and asked me about my intentions towards you and I told him that it wasn't any of his business. I told him that you were a grown woman who was more than capable of looking after her own self. And I also told him that what's between us is between us and therefore, private. He left, finally," Leonard said. "Was I wrong?"
"No, Leonard. You were absolutely right... just right, in fact," Uhura said, turning her head up to grace him with a smile that charmed him right down to his bones. "Baby Bear, remember?"
"Yeah, that's me." He returned her smile with one of his own, the one that never failed to make her melt.
"This is nice," Uhura said, the past subject of conversation forgotten. "I've missed you." She snuggled into his side more, smiling when she felt his arm pull her closer.
"I've missed you too, Uhura," Leonard said.
"My name is Nyota. To everyone else I'm Uhura, but for you, I'm Nyota."
"Just me?" He asked with a teasing smile, enjoying the warm feeling he had inside at her words.
"Just you. Only you," Uhura assured him.
"Aw, to hell with it," Leonard said, kissing her.
As far as first kisses went, they both thought it was rather perfect.
I hope you enjoy! Questions, comments, and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated!