When Nyota woke - really woke, as opposed to briefly breaking the surface of sleep - she had no idea what time it was, much less what day it was. Beside her, Spock slept heavily to judge by his breathing, and she wondered if the plak tow had finally passed.
If not, she'd have to get another hypo from Dr. McCoy.
"Hey." The quiet greeting made her look to the doorway. Jim stood there, still in the same trousers he'd worn when he greeted her at the door. "You okay?"
Nyota reviewed her body, checking for any complaints it might have. "Tired, sore, thirsty."
Jim nodded and came into the room. Nyota vague memories of him doing that once or twice before, and of Spock growling at him for his effort. The first time, he'd thrown Jim against the wall hard enough that the impact echoed. "Should you be here?"
"It's over," he told her.
She tamped down the relief that swept through her at his words, forced herself to ask, "You're sure?"
"Yep."
He sounded too casual to be so certain, and she couldn't help the suspicion in her tone. "How do you know?"
Jim grinned at her. "Because I don't want to sleep with you." Her eyebrows flew up, and he ducked his head. "Okay, no more than usual. C'mere."
Nyota took his outstretched hand mostly out of reflexive courtesy, and then was glad she had the extra leverage when her legs didn't want to respond to her commands.
"It's okay," Jim said. "I've got you."
He leaned over Spock's still form and caught her under the arms, hefting her towards him with more ease than she would have expected. She smiled her thanks and got her feet under her - only to almost collapse when she tried to put weight on them. Fortunately, Jim caught her before she fell.
"Tired," she said again, her throat sore and her voice raspy as though she'd spent a whole day talking or cheering.
Or screaming in ecstasy. She felt herself flushing, gave thanks that her darker skin would conceal it at least a little.
"Shower?" Jim asked.
"Oh, please, yes." The words were out before she thought. "But a drink of water first?"
"Sure. Hang on."
Before she could ask what she was supposed to hang on to, Jim swung her up into his arms, bridal-style.
"Put me down!" Nyota ordered in a whisper, though a glance back at Spock told her he still slept. He never slept that soundly, ever.
"Not yet." Jim carried her to the 'fresher, where he sat her on the bench in the shower. He disappeared, only to return moments later with a glass of water. "Drink up."
"I don't need to be babied," she said, but took the glass and drank anyway.
"Everybody needs to be babied sometimes," Jim countered. "And after that … marathon, I think you need it more than you want to admit."
Nyota started to object again, then remembered that he'd listened in through his bond with Spock, and he probably wouldn't believe her if she protested. Then again, she wasn't certain she believed herself.
"Okay," she said finally, and handed him back the empty glass.
"In the spirit of not babying you, I'll be outside when you're done."
Nyota nodded. Then something prompted her to ask, "What about Spock?"
"He's out. Thoroughly out," Jim amended. "According to my sources, that's normal after pon farr, and we shouldn't worry unless he sleeps more than a day."
Nyota blinked. A day? And what sources did Jim have about pon farr, of all things? She decided she'd rather not ask.
Jim stepped outside and she reached out to turn on the shower. For a moment, she wished it were a real hot-water shower, however impractical those were in space. Then she blew out a breath, and the wish with it, and rose carefully to her feet.
Sonic waves didn't encourage lingering the way hot water did, so it was only a few minutes before Nyota turned off the shower. She'd lingered long enough, or been distracted enough, that she hadn't noticed Jim come in - but he must have, given that her clothes and a comb rested on the vanity.
She dressed quickly and ran the comb through her hair before she stepped back into the bedroom.
As he'd promised, Jim waited outside the 'fresher. Nyota was grateful for the arm he offered for the short walk into the outer room. She sank down onto the couch and was only partly surprised when Jim pulled out a tricorder to run it over her.
"I'm fine," she said.
"I believe you."
"But you're still using that."
"Bones would kill me if I didn't." Then he was setting the tricorder aside and reaching for something in the first-aid kit.
She winced when she saw the hypo in his hand. "What's that?"
"Just vitamins. You haven't eaten in two days."
The shock those words brought overcame her resistance to the hypospray. "Two days?"
"Hungry?"
Her stomach growled lightly. "I wasn't until you asked."
Jim chuckled and rose to turn to the replicator. Nyota caught a glimpse of his back again. Why hadn't the scratches and bruises been treated? Then she remembered, and shame flushed her cheeks again. Of course they hadn't been treated - he'd been making sure she wasn't inadvertently hurt.
Jim returned with bowls of what looked like vegetable soup. She took the one he offered, but set it aside. "Let's take care of your back, first."
Her tone was businesslike enough that he didn't argue, just sat with his back to her while she ran the dermal regenerator over the patchwork of injuries.
"Thanks," he said when she was done, and for a time they ate in silence.
"What now?" Nyota asked finally.
"Now, we wait for him to wake up." Jim hesitated before adding, "I can wait, if you'd rather go."
"I've missed two shifts -" she began, but he shook his head.
"Bones has all three of us on medical leave. You're good. I just don't know how you feel about him, me, all of this."
"I don't know, either," she admitted. "But I'd be a lousy girlfriend if I didn't wait with you."
