A/N: After last chapter, which was a lot of goofy fluff, I felt like I ought to warn you that this chapter took a bit of a dark turn on me. Sometimes, the characters just take the story into their own hands – and that's what happened this time around.

(And for those of you who have been reading my other piece, "Both Ways at Once" – you know all my "amazing expanding chapters?" Well, that's what happened here; this was still supposed to be Chapter 9. but this scene wanted a chapter of its own.)

Long note – sorry!

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"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars."

~Kahlil Gibran

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Nyota felt her cheeks flaming. What the hell is it about this man that short-circuits the filter between my brain and my mouth?

"...Can you pretend I didn't just say that?"

To her surprise, he laughed delightedly. "Not in a million years, sweetheart – that's a hell of a compliment, and I'm glad to have it."

He reached over to affectionately tug her ponytail. "Come on over here and sit with me a while. It's early yet." Lowering himself down onto the sofa, he smiled invitingly up at her, patting the place next to him.

This is new, Nyota reflected. She and Len had taken to spending a lot of time together, but never alone – or at least, not in private. Sure, there was the occasional meal in the Officers' Mess where they had a table – and some time – to themselves, but they'd made it almost an unspoken understanding that they somehow weren't supposed to be together by themselves.

So, yeah. This is new. Not bad – not at all – but new.

She sank down into the soft cushions – Leonard, unsatisfied with standard Starfleet issued furniture, had brought his own sofa with him when the Enterprise took off on its five-year mission, and Nyota had found more than one occasion to be grateful for that little indulgence on his part.

Not really sure how this was supposed to go – or where, in fact, it was going at all – Nyota sat on the opposite end of the sofa from Leonard.

After all, she reasoned, you can always get closer if need be. Besides, you don't need to look too easy, girl.

Though God knows you would be.

"All right, now, Lieutenant – off with those boots." All of a sudden, he had what she called his "doctor voice" – and damned if that wasn't just a little bit hot. Without thinking, she did as he'd asked, and reached down to unzip her boots.

Then she froze, and Leonard was surprised when she looked up at him with an odd, self-conscious expression on her lovely face. "You have to promise not to laugh, though."

"What – do you have six toes on one foot or something? I think that woulda shown up in your medical files, though." He gave her a quizzical smile of his own.

"No." She wasn't blushing, was she? "It's just that I have... well..." She went ahead and unzipped her boots. "I have... really ridiculous socks."

She slipped off her boots, then – and sure enough, under those almost knee-high boots, she did have on the damnedest-looking crazy knee-high socks he'd probably ever seen.

Not, of course, that he'd ever really spent much time looking at women's socks...

These were striped – all the brightest, most eye-popping colors imaginable, all over the place – and when Leonard looked more closely, he noticed that the two socks weren't even from the same pair.

Which is just plain adorable.

Smiling – and ignoring her little squeak of surprise – he reached down and pulled her feet, goofy socks and all, into his lap.

"Len – what are you... oh, my..."

Any protest Nyota may have considered disappeared completely as he started massaging her aching feet. Normally, she'd have been able to go back to her own quarters to change out of her uniform before it was time to come to Leonard's – but tonight she'd been needed on the bridge long past the end of her own shift, and had barely made it down in time for the start of the vid.

And yeah, those boots were Starfleet issue, specially designed by scientists who supposedly knew what they were doing – and she'd have to admit that they looked pretty good on her. But damn -- after more than twelve hours, they were starting to hurt.

And what he was doing was so good, it ought to be illegal.

"Oh, my goodness, Len..." Her voice sounded suspiciously like a purr. "How did you know...?"

Blissfully, Nyota let her eyes close as she relaxed into the wonderful rhythm of those strong, sinfully wonderful hands as they worked their magic on her feet and up the tight muscles of her calves.

"Well, darlin', you came straight here from the bridge, so I knew you'd been up and on your feet for a long time. And say what you want about these damn boots – after a while, you just don't wanna have 'em on anymore." He smiled down at her, his voice warm. "It's the least a friend can do."

She laughed softly at that. "Well, I've got a news flash for you. None of my other friends ever do this – this is a first."

Leonard was a little surprised by the fierce voice inside him that said, Good. And nobody else had better try it, either.

He was feeling oddly possessive tonight toward this beautiful woman – with her tired feet, and ridiculous socks, and sweet, embarrassed smile...

… and gorgeous, sleek legs that looked as though they might go on for-fucking-ever, and soft, lush lips, and...

Stop it, McCoy. Stop thinking about that shit right now.

Yeah. Good luck with that...

"You know, Len – you like to try to pull off that 'I'm just a cranky old country doctor' crap, but when it comes down to it, you've got a pretty big streak of 'knight in shining armor' going on. You can fool some of these people – and you even fooled me for a while – but not anymore."

She hadn't opened her eyes as she spoke, but the smile was still there, just for him.

Not for anybody else, dammit.

"Not much of a knight, unfortunately – never quite got the hang of wearin' armor – but I got pretty good at these foot rubs when I was little and my mom would come home after being on her feet all day. She taught elementary school, and those little shits ran her ragged. She liked it when I'd rub her feet for her, and I liked doin' it for her... so it all worked out."

"I'd like to meet your mom one of these days – I bet she's an original." Nyota tried to imagine what kind of a woman would have raised a son like Leonard. Everything she'd heard about Leonard's mom – mostly bits and pieces from Jim – made her think that she'd probably like Eleanora McCoy – a lot.

There was silence between them for a while – not of the strained, uncomfortable sort, but just a relaxed kind of stillness that left both Leonard and Nyota to their own thoughts... whatever those happened to be.

When he glanced her way again, he saw that she was looking at his face with an unaccustomed concentration.

"What're you lookin' at, darlin'?" Leonard's voice was a low rumble in the quiet room.

The lights were still down – they'd never brought them back up after the vid stopped – and a small table lamp near the sofa threw Leonard's distinctive features into sharp relief.

Nyota couldn't stop looking at that handsome face; the almost luminous hazel eyes, that sexy mouth that looked like it was just made to be kissed, the strong, masculine jaw...

...And one tiny flaw.

"Where'd you get that?" She gestured vaguely toward his jawline.

"Get what?"

Damn. He knew what she meant – but... damn.

That really, really wasn't a topic he wanted to discuss tonight.

"That scar – there near your jaw, over by your chin."

It wasn't much of a scar, really – it was only remarkable because in these days of dermal regeneration, scars were nearly unheard-of. For a medical professional to have one – well, that was particularly odd. She'd noticed it before, wondered about it – but had kept her curiosity to herself. Tonight seemed like the kind of night for long stories and small revelations – so she decided, on an impulse, that this would be the time to ask.

She hadn't expected that shuttered look that suddenly appeared in those expressive, beautiful hazel eyes of his.

"Len? If it's something you'd rather not..."

"I was seventeen, Nyota. Out in the middle of backwoods nowhere, Sumter County, Georgia." He stopped for a moment, as though looking back. "Now, don't get me wrong. It's out in the sticks, for sure – but I love it there. Best people in the world in that part of the country, mostly. Just not all of 'em."

She noticed that he really wasn't talking to her anymore – he was just talking. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she did – she just knew that whatever he was going to say was going to... matter, somehow.

That it was something she needed to know.

"We had some neighbors. Now, not neighbors like you probably think of neighbors – our houses were miles apart, out there. But Brandy and Jackson Simpkins had a farm not far from where we lived."

He paused for a moment – and just by looking at him, she knew better than to ask anything.

"Brandy – she was a beauty, or had been, when she was younger. Jackson – he was probably a charmer at some point, but by the time I was old enough to think about him one way or the other, he was a drunk. Rumor was that he was using drugs, too – but it didn't much matter. Part that mattered was that whenever things weren't goin' his way, he'd take it out on her. This –" he absently stroked his scar with a fingertip – "came from me makin' him stop it – or at least, tryin' to."

Knight in shining armor – just like I said, Nyota thought. But that look on his face told her that the story wasn't over – not yet.

'Yeah, I was some dumb-ass kid, thinkin' I could punch him in the face to make him stop punchin' her in the face. How I thought I was gonna do that when her papa, her brothers, hell, even the sheriff hadn't been able to manage it – well, I don't guess I really even stopped to think about it much."

He sighed, a sharp, painful exhalation. "But when I walked up their front porch to bring back the drill my dad had borrowed... and saw Jackson backhand Brandy right out the damn front door... well, thinkin' wasn't even part of what I did that day."

Nyota's voice was small in the sudden quiet. "He gave you that scar?"

Leonard nodded. "He did. He picked up a two-by-four off the porch and started swingin' it wherever – and managed to mess up my face pretty good. But while he was doin' it, Brandy had time to get away, to run over to our place, to my mother. 'Cause there wasn't any problem my mama couldn't fix, and everybody around knew it. So Mom called the sheriff, and he came and got Jackson."

"And... that was it?"

That sigh, again. "No. No, it wasn't. He got out on bail later that day – turns out he had a cousin in the District Attorney's office – and went back home. So did Brandy – God only knows why. She told Mom it was because she was his wife, and she loved him, and he needed her."

The silence stretched between them again.

"Didn't take him 'til nightfall to finish what he started; he beat her to death – probably with that same two-by-four."

Nyota shuddered, involuntarily. "And... you didn't go get the cut taken care of?"

She still couldn't figure out why he had that scar.

Except she could...

"Have a doctor take a regenerator to it? Make it go away, like it never happened?" Leonard's voice was quiet, bitter. "Brandy didn't get a regenerator. I didn't want one, either."

And then, all at once, it became clear to her – and she realized that she'd already known, after all.

"You think it's your fault. All these years, and you still think it's your fault."

He hadn't looked directly at her the whole time he'd recounted the story. Now he turned to her, and her heart ached to see the pained, almost haunted look in his eyes.

"I did, then – and for a long time afterward. I know better, now. But, dammit, Nyota – she was the first person I'd ever tried to save... and I couldn't. Lord knows she sure wasn't the last."

She watched him -- just watched -- in the lengthening silence. He hadn't looked away, but watched her intently, as well; it was almost as though he was daring her to try to come up with something to say to make it all better, after all these years.

Nyota knew words – knew them, probably, better than anyone on the Enterprise. She was the Communications Officer; words were her daily tools, and she knew how to make them serve her.

She knew that words had enormous power; she could take words and make them friendly, cutting, diplomatic, or sexy as hell. There wasn't much, really, that Nyota Uhura couldn't do with words.

Nyota knew words well enough to know when they were utterly useless.

This was one of those times.

Silently, she shifted her position on the sofa so that she was halfway across Leonard's lap – able to wrap her arms around him, and to tuck her head into the solid curve of his shoulder. He accepted that wordless comfort gratefully, strong arms tightening around her to pull her even closer to him.

Maybe she'd fallen asleep first; maybe he had. Either way, they'd found themselves still twined together like that hours later, far into the night.

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Told you so.

And now, my spring break is over -- so these quick (for me, at least) updates are probably at an end for a while.

But I do really, really appreciate all of you who have added this piece to your alerts & favorites -- it's blown me away, honestly.

I like it even better when you review, though. ;-)