Summerboy

AN: Inspired by "Summerboy" by Lady Gaga!

Disclaimer: SSDD!

Rating: K

Shore leave was always a cunning lie wrapped up in a gift. It promised a lot of things but fulfilled but one pledge; the one that always left more questions than answers and not enough time to extract the necessary information.

It was no different this time around, even though he was oblivious to this.

The planet was cool, sunny, beautiful. It reminded him of all the places on Earth he had always wanted to get to, Hawaii, Sicily, those gorgeous locations with beaches and sun and everything he had always wanted and never seen, having grown up in Iowa, and when he was finally old enough to make it out of his hometown, he had been far too drunk to notice what had been around him. The few years previous to his joining the academy where a blur of bar fights, drunken wanderings, concerned calls from his mother, a sense of loss and a feeling he had no where else to be and figured if he was drunk enough, he could forget everything he had given up.

But here, the golden rays of a sun warmed his skin, the heat crawling inwards and lighting him on the inside. The sound of water rushing onto a shore echoed in his head. A light breeze rustled trees and soft, murmured voices floated on the light wind, wrapping around him.

This short summer would be all he could have for some time and he had every intention to take everything he could in another subconscious attempt to repair holes left by his previous unfulfilling lifestyle that took more than it gave.

His eyes, shining bright cerulean in the perfect weather, danced over the bodies of the other people gathered around the few buildings on the small island. Bones, standing off to his left somewhere, already had a drink in hand, chatting up some tanned brunette. He smiled inwardly and took his leave of the good doctor, knowing full well his departure was masked easily by the twinkling tones of the brunette.

He couldn't help but search with his eyes, drinking it all in hungrily. There was a sense of serenity here he hadn't felt in the longest time. Finally, tension rolled off his back in smooth waves and he could only feel the warmth on his skin, the breeze in his hair, the sand underneath him and a wonderful sense of relaxation that hadn't kept him company in some time.

Some tall blonde found him out, her bright, lime-green eyes assessing him, as if he might not be worth the effort. A brilliant smile flashed across his face, leaning closer to her. A smile of her own found her lips and she closed the distance and led him away.

He had been unaware of eyes on him except for hers and the thought never crossed his mind.

The morning following, they parted ways. They both knew what this had been about and he was grateful to her in some understated way, thankful that he wasn't the one who needed to wake up early and leave. She had beat him to it. When he saw he later that day, sipping a martini as green as her eyes, hidden behind wide, dark sunglasses, he could help the light smile that bubbled up.

Nothing about this was permanent. He wouldn't remain here long, and nothing here would leave a mark. He didn't even know her name, nor did she know his, and that was perfect.

She hadn't been the only one to proposition him, and who was he to turn down such a lovely and enticing offer. About six days into the leave, he couldn't count the girls on one hand and couldn't give you a name to a face. Bones clapped him on the shoulder good-naturedly and remarked how the other men were seething in jealousy. Bones could only laugh, knowing his friend too well.

The eighth day was uneventful. He stayed by himself in his room, sleeping in for the first time in months, and when he woke up, he was met with the familiar calming sounds of the ocean and the breeze.

But this time, there was something edging it's way into the calm relaxation that had been his companion for little more than a week. It brought a green haze just behind his eyes, green like the blonde's eyes, and the thought of her deepened the color. He couldn't put his finger on the feeling and when he focused on it, it vanished quickly. He brushed the incident aside and slid out of bed.

Walking along the boardwalk, he watched the sunlight dance on the waves, a crystalline blue, clear right down to the pale sand, warm and inviting. He waded in waist deep and let his mind wander as he fell back and rested back onto the water, the waves holding him up as his eyes slid closed.

Jealousy.

The feeling was jealousy. But he had no reason to feel it. When the color slowly crept around his senses, he saw the emotion wasn't his. It felt alien to him and he tried to push it out and his acknowledgment of it made it disappear again.

When he met up with Bones later that evening, he said nothing about the feeling. He strayed away from the other patrons, sticking only to familiar company and the jealous pang faded considerably, though it still haunted around the edges. Bones noticed his change in behavior, quick as he ever was. He met questions with clever evasion, though his good friend saw through the ruse. The good doctor pressed a little harder and he opened up to him as he was so accustomed to.

"Are you feeling guilty?" Leonard asked apprehensively, looking him up and down.

He replied honestly that he had no reason to. He hadn't been unfaithful, nor had he lied to them. They all knew this was a summer thing, one beautiful moment that quelled desire and need, a quiet surrogate that knew its place. In his case, he didn't have the faintest idea what the meetings where a proxy for, but his subconscious just played its cards knowingly, even if his conscious mind questioned. He had too many back-ups and fail-safes that the question wasn't worth asking. Matters of a personal nature for him were far too painful to deal with on a waking mind and so he slept through that mild heartbreak.

Bones scowled in his way of showing concern and rested a hand on his shoulder knowingly. He didn't say much else, but he told him to stop walking through this with his eyes closed. He knew he needed to, but hearing made it al the more obvious.

He was going nowhere fast.

He excused himself, pretending not to hear the sigh of his best friend. He met another woman that night, her hair long and dark. Her eyes sparkled in agreement, knowing what he wanted and they got lost and he brought her to his room.

He woke up and she was not around. Another substitute come and went.

The fatal pang of a sadness that wasn't his, but his to bear rang through him and he rested his hand over his heart as if to prevent the organ from ripping away from him. He took a deep breath and was unaware he had held it in until his heart strained underneath his palm.

He sat up in the bed, sheets slipping coolly away from him and a chill ran up his spine. He ran his hands over his face and dropped his arms heavily in front of him. This had turned into less of what he had wanted. There was still a week remaining, but he couldn't carry on this way.

He collapsed back onto the bed, the pillow cradling his head and his remorse, and the rippled undertone of anger that welled up in him. He draped his forearm over his eyes and merely listened. Rain drizzled lazily outside. The ocean stirred with more force and he found himself meandering absent-mindedly into the water against his better judgment.

The wind whipped the water against his bared chest as the waves crashed around his hips. He let his hands skim the unsettled waters, glancing forward into the horizon, the sight more daunting as powerful waves surged out further, the aftermath rocking him gently. He let himself collapse and be tossed around by the ocean, the fierce rocking lulling him away to another world where something else flooded him inside with a sense of dread that could only be a belated conscience warning against his irrational and hazardous predicament.

He let the soothing voice, however slightly frantic it was, race through him as water pushed and pulled him. At one point, he was pulled under, and the dull roar above him desensitized him to everything and he only had the energy to think.

His mind ambled through a world that wasn't his and held in its hands something substantial, heavy, hot and fiery to the touch. It was unsettling, but he continued his exploration. He couldn't help his natural curiosity as it drowned out the voice in his head. He couldn't hear anything anymore. His chest tightened painfully, but he was preoccupied.

When a tight grip wrapped around his arms and pulled him from the water, he was brutally aware of the sting of saltwater in his nose, pouring like acid down the back of his throat. He coughed violently and sagged back in the grip, trying to get back to the paradise in his head but remained unsuccessful as he was dragged from the turbid, vehement water, no longer as clear as it once had been.

When Bones' angry voice filled him up, he rolled away from the sound, the act of nearly drowning filling his head with a migraine as fierce as the storm and a strong sense of loss. The doctor continued on his rant, even knowing that he might not even be listening. Stubborn as a mule, and compassionate to a fault could be the only way to describe his good friend.

There was another presence in the room, far more tepid and such the polar opposite of the doctor that he gravitated towards it, only to be pushed back. He felt as if he was physically moved, despite that he hadn't been touched.

His sun had gone down and his summer was ending. When Bones finally gave up the ghost, he departed with an exasperated huff, his footsteps falling hard on the wooden walkway.

The edge of the bed dipped tentatively and he fought the urge to curl closer to the heat that reminded him so much of his sun. He had been chilled to the bone and shivered slightly as if to confirm it. A long, drawn out sigh parted from him, the breath warming his hands, but it wasn't enough.

His back ached and he arched his spine, feeling the bones and muscles shift stiffly under his skin. Stretching his arms out forward, his fingertips lightly grazed skin, soft and heated. He reached out with more intention and took the hand into his, feeling the flinch that came before it jumped from his grip and out of his reach.

The small tingling feeling still echoed in his skin and rushed up his arm to his heart where the organ seemed to groan under the stress and forced a painful feeling out through his chest and his throat. He couldn't control the noise, and in honesty, could barely hear it over the roar that still echoed in his head.

He felt the figure next to him jump at the sound, moving away from him, far out of his grasp as if afraid of what he could transmit. He rolled onto his back and groaned, joints and muscles still aching from the lactic acid that had settled. His eyes fell open weakly and fixated on the ceiling, tracing patterns and words on the pale white, following the shadows that crawled across the canvas. He imagined his Eden there, far less vivid than it had been before.

It was beautiful because it was exotic. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. The shade of red a color he never knew to exist, powerful and endearing and foreign. He couldn't feel, only see. He wondered what it was like. Was it warm? He could see a bright sun in the sky. He wished he knew what it felt like under it. The rocks melted away, the red draining to a dull grey and whipped back and forth, far from what he wanted to see.

Tossed back and forth, he saw someone wearily fading into the movement and he tried to call out, but his voice failed him and he rushed forward and gripped the figure, pulling him up and looked into the glazed blue eyes, which he recognized as his own, staring back at him, soulless and he let go and tried to get back but couldn't move.

He snapped back at the feeling of soft hands on his face, gentle words in his ear he couldn't understand. His mouth felt dry and he shook his head, trying to clear away the haze to look up into dark eyes, warmed underneath, flashing, briefly, the most beautiful shade of brown.

He closed his eyes instinctively and when they opened, he was alone. A desperate noise caught in his throat and he tossed. Leonard had been just outside and came in, trying to settle him. He felt on the verge of tears and wished he knew what this all meant.

The rest of the week closed quickly and gold clouded him, the cool thrumming of his lady reverberating through him. He felt hollow as he glanced around, seeing everyone so busy. The screen in front of him was filled with the retreating planet, beautiful, but so damning and he looked away harshly and shied away from the thought of the ocean, the sun, knowing that his own light had set and he couldn't find it again.

He turned in his chair and studied his First Officer's back intently. His summer was over and winter had taken its place. He saw the Vulcan's posture stiffen, and he drew his eyes away and thought about something else.

A voice drew his attention and he turned towards that.

Isolated for a moment, he let the smallest of sighs escape him, leaning back in the chair.

"Is something the matter, Captain?" Came the level, cold tone of his First Officer, just behind his right ear.

"No." He replied dimly, eyes fixed on something straight ahead.

He held his tongue, and it seemed that his First seemed complacent with his vague, meaningless answer. He bit his lip to trap a small noise rising in his throat.

Even though they were close, he couldn't feel that heat, and his eyes darkened in response. His summer had left.

AN: So that ended less sweetly than you probably expected. If this little drabble, you feel, needs something else, say so in a review!