Shakeba sighed heavily when the door chimes sounded. She didn't want to talk to anyone. She'd spent the whole damn day crammed in Jeffries tubes, making repairs to various wiring panels and she was tired. She was in her pajamas, for Kahless's sake! Still, what if it was the captain? Or Nyota? She gave the command for the doors to open as she rubbed her tired eyes. Upon seeing her visitor, she rubbed her eyes again, to make sure she was seeing things clearly.
"What are you doing here?"
She hadn't intended for the words to sound so sharp but he deserved it.
"Nice to see you too," McCoy snipped.
Shakeba pursed her lips together to keep from saying something else she might regret. Inside she wanted to kick herself. She hadn't wanted the first thing she said to him after all this time apart to be spoken out of irritation but perhaps it was inevitable. He stared at her, and Shakeba looked down at herself. She was wearing a fitted long-sleeve tee and sleep shorts. And yet, the look he was giving her – it was as though she were standing in front of him in that ridiculous frippery Ovic had given her on Celos-D42. Shakeba quirked an eyebrow. Maybe Doctor McCoy was into bland, utilitarian sleepwear? Or maybe he liked it because she was in something she had chosen for herself – something she was comfortable in. Catching her gaze, he looked away and she wondered if that was shame she saw flitting across his face.
He cleared his throat. "Is this a bad time? Should I come back another time?"
"Are you joking?" She couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. The floodgates had been opened. "All this time and NOW you come by? Where were you when Ensign Wilson attacked me? Where were you when I was taken off surveillance?"
He stared at her and she watched as a flush crept up his face. Oh good. Now she'd pissed him off. Well, fine. He'd made her mad first. She hadn't realized till he was standing there in front of her just how angry she'd been when he hadn't shown up sooner. She knew she was being a little irrational. Initially, she'd wanted him to stay away. She'd needed time to process everything that had happened on Celos-D42. But the desire to be alone had passed and he had stayed away. He hadn't ever asked her what she wanted – space or friendship or intimacy. He'd just disappeared – had literally walked away when she'd wanted him most. And maybe she deserved it for what she had pulled down on Celos. But if that was the case, she wanted him to tell her so face to face. Because the man she'd woken up to in sick bay after they'd made it back on the Enterprise hadn't seemed to hate her. She needed to know exactly what was going on in that head of his. He wanted to show up in her cramped quarters this late at night and act like nothing had happened? Act like he hadn't ignored her for two months? She wasn't having any of it. She bristled with tension as she waited for him to start his tirade.
"I'm sorry," he finally muttered. "I shoulda come sooner."
"Why didn't you?" she asked even as she was taken aback by his apology.
He shook his head. "I don't know. I wanted to give you space, wanted to make sure you had time to deal with everything you went through in the Klingon camp…and while we were trying to get there. I wasn't sure you'd want to see me again and the more time that went by, the more worried I was that you'd decided I wasn't someone you wanted in your life –"
"Why would you think something as stupid as that?" she asked and there was a hint of wryness in her voice.
"Well, it's not like you reached out to me either," he pointed out and she watched as his shoulders hunched up just the slightest bit. She knew that move. He did it whenever he was waiting for her to throw something at him. She didn't have anything to throw at him and even if she did, Shakeba had no intention of clocking him at the moment.
"I wanted to," she murmured. "But first there was the bracelet recording everything I said and after the thing with Ensign Wilson…"
"I wanted to kill him," McCoy growled.
It was Shakeba's turn to blush. She was confused though.
"When they brought me to med bay… You were there but you walked away… I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with me…"
McCoy stepped closer to Shakeba.
"You remember that?"
She nodded.
"Darlin', I didn't turn away because I wanted to avoid you. I had to walk away. I'm not allowed to treat you. And if I had stayed to hear you explain what had happened…Ensign Wilson wouldn't have been the only one kicked off the ship."
"So you don't hate me for what happened down on Celos?"
"No," he assured her. "I never hated you – even when I was sitting in that cell, wondering if I was gonna die in a Klingon camp, I didn't hate you. I wanted to. But I couldn't. And when I saw you, yelling at the guards…"
He paused and she wondered what he saw when he relived their final moments on Celos. What had she looked like to him, injured and in that stupid negligee, wielding a disruptor as she hobbled into the woods to find him? She knew what he had looked like to her when he'd stuck his head up over the shrubs. She'd never felt that kind of relief and affection for another person before. Had never wanted to throw herself at someone as much as she'd wanted to throw herself at him in that moment.
"Jim let me listen to his interview with you," McCoy finally resumed. "I know what happened. I'm so sorry you went through that –"
"Don't," Shakeba countered, "Please don't bring it up. I shouldn't have put you at risk like I did. And I don't want to think about how close I came to failing you."
The last thing Shakeba wanted now that she was finally with the man she had missed so much was to be reminded of Ovic. She wanted nothing more than to forget he had ever existed. And she didn't want to talk about how violated he made her feel – not with Leonard, not yet.
He stepped into her personal space and wrapped his arms around her.
"We don't have to ever talk about it again," he whispered as she pressed herself against him, "But don't you think for a moment I don't know how much you did down there to save us. We're alive, more than two thirds of the Celosians are alive and on their own planet, because of you."
Shakeba pulled away. The room was small and there wasn't much space to put between them but she did her best.
"I'm not…you shouldn't think of me as some savior," she scolded him, deeply uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her. "I did what I did to get revenge and to keep myself alive."
"Bullshit," McCoy retorted, "You didn't take your own life into consideration. Not with all the injuries you were sporting."
"Injuries are nothing," she scoffed, "As long as I make it out alive, why should I care about some scrapes and bruises?"
"You're bluffing," he insisted, "I know you are."
Shakeba gave him a hard look. "I am not."
She had to restrain herself from smacking the smug look off his face. Only Leonard could go from making her want to spend forever in his arms one second to throwing things at him the next.
"You are," he replied, advancing on her and closing the gap between them. "Know how I know?"
"Tell me," she demanded, genuinely curious, if still a little wary about how close he was to her. She took a step back and hit the bed with the back of her calf, stumbling. McCoy was there to keep her standing but he didn't let go of her once she'd regained her balance and if Shakeba was being completely honest with herself, she liked being in his arms.
McCoy dipped his head down to hers and brought his mouth to her ear.
"I know you're bluffing about being preoccupied with your own self-interest because if that were the case, you wouldn't have gone to such lengths to destroy the drill. The bracelet? Pulling the chip from your PADD and installing it in the bracelet so you could destroy the drill? That's not the work of someone who only cares about herself."
His breath was warm on her neck and she told herself that was why her own breath was catching in her throat. It had nothing to do with the way his voice made desire pool inside her, made butterflies flutter within her stomach.
"I'm not a martyr," she gasped, "Don't put me on a pedestal I can't get down from."
"Darlin', I don't think there's a pedestal out there you couldn't escape from if you wanted to. But don't think for a second that I'm idolizing you."
He pulled away so he could look her in the eye.
"You considered staying with the Klingons."
He watched for her reaction.
"How'd you know that?" she whispered, her eyes revealing just how accurate his guess had been.
McCoy shrugged and stepped back, leaving Shakeba with a void. She wanted him close to her again and without thinking, found herself leaning towards him.
"Call it a hunch," he answered, "There's no way you could just turn your back on everything you'd ever known without struggling with the decision."
She realized he hadn't known for sure she'd considered staying with the Klingons but that she had just admitted as much to him and scowled.
"You tricked me," she cried, throwing a clenched fist out to hit his chest, to push him away, but he'd spent enough time with her on Celos to anticipate exactly such a move and he caught her fist in his hand, pulling her to him.
"Maybe I tricked you but I was right, wasn't I?"
"What'll you do now? Tell Jim? Have me put back on surveillance?" She did her best to keep despair out of her voice as she half-heartedly struggled to get away from his embrace.
"You can't be serious," McCoy muttered, holding her tight.
Dimly, in some recess of her mind, Shakeba knew what it was doing to him to feel her rub against him repeatedly but he didn't stop her and she wasn't sure if she was moving to get away from him or to further arouse him. She was strong enough to break free if she wanted to and she was pretty sure McCoy knew it – he'd seen her fight before. But he didn't let go – gripped her even more tightly against him and though she couldn't admit it to him just yet, she loved feeling his hands tighten around her shoulder and waist, loved feeling him pull her closer.
"I have no intention of getting you put back on surveillance," he whispered gruffly as she stilled. "There's nothing wrong with admitting it's hard to let your old life go. You know that, right? Tell me Bexolus is enough of a counselor to have communicated that to you by now."
She stayed unmoving in his arms and relaxed against him. Perhaps in response, he softened his hold on her and a part of her wanted to tell him not to let go, to keep holding her tightly.
"Everyone tells me to not be ashamed," she said softly, into his shirt. "But what am I supposed to do or feel when people are spray-painting my doors and attacking me in Jeffries tubes?"
McCoy tightened his grip.
"I'm so sorry, Keebs. I'm sorry I wasn't there."
"Don't apologize. You can't be there every moment of every day to keep me safe."
"But I want to be," he whispered, dipping his head down to hers.
They didn't kiss immediately. Both hesitated, and for her part, Shakeba enjoyed the sweet, delicious anticipation of what was coming. The kisses, the embraces, the things they'd avoided planet-side. She could feel Leonard's breath against her lips. The expectation of impending intimacy was exquisitely excruciating.
Finally, she couldn't wait another second. She kissed McCoy hungrily, as though she could possess the whole of him through a kiss alone, so ready to give into the want that had been burning within her for what had felt like ages but had, in reality, only been a handful of months. She loved the way their bodies fit together, the way their mouths met so perfectly, the feel of his tongue against hers.
They moved clumsily, jerking to and fro as they pawed at one another, too caught up in the moment for any kind of grace. They made short work of each other's tops, paying no heed to where the abandoned items of clothing fell. Later, both would realize they'd ignored a perfectly good, if tiny, bed available to them.
"I need you," Shakeba whispered and McCoy grunted in agreement as he pulled her shorts and panties off. She worked on getting his pants unclasped and then pulled them down.
"Here?"
"Yes, right now," she replied and he didn't offer a snappy comeback or alternative, removing his boxer briefs instead. Shakeba pulled McCoy towards herself and walked backwards till she felt her back hit the wall of her quarters. He lifted her and she spread her legs, hitching them around his so he could enter her. She was ready for him, had been ready almost from the moment he walked into her quarters because as annoyed as she might get with him, her body would always betray her with its desire to be joined to his body.
"Goddammit." The curse tumbled from McCoy's lips as he entered Shakeba and before she could stop herself, she muttered a curse of her own in return. She'd known it would feel good but hadn't been prepared for how well he filled her, how wonderfully tight it was, as though they were puzzle pieces that had been created for one another alone.
She murmured something incomprehensible and McCoy thrust into her again, going harder and deeper this time.
"I missed you," Shakeba repeated, more clearly the second time as she moved her mouth away from his neck, closer to his ear. "How I missed you."
"My God, darlin'," he replied as he pushed into her once more, "You have no idea how hard it was for me to keep away."
"Oh, Leonard," she breathed.
He was buried so deep inside her, she could feel his balls slap against her with every shove. The wall at her back wasn't especially comfortable but she didn't care because this – the merger of their bodies, the complete union of their passion – this was all she wanted. It felt like coming home, if home were trying to keep your balance while simultaneously trying not to lose control.
McCoy shifted, hiked Shakeba's legs up higher, to rest more comfortably around his waist before resuming his thrusts, bracing one arm against the wall to keep his balance as she leaned into him, her arms wrapped tightly around him. With his other arm around her back, McCoy steadied himself before thrusting hard once again. It certainly wasn't the most elegant fuck either of them had ever attempted but it didn't matter.
"Won't leave you again, Keebs," he whispered between breaths, "Promise."
She moaned in response as he held her against the wall and repeatedly thrust into her warm, wet center. Despite the fact that her back was rubbing against the hard surface in a way that she knew would leave marks, Shakeba had never felt this good before. There was an intensity to their union that she hadn't felt with any previous lover, even Tsix. It scared her even as it enticed her. She'd known, from the first night they'd pleasured one another, that McCoy was a good lover – a generous lover. But after all those sweaty nights on Celos-D42, she couldn't have predicted he would fill her like this, leave her so breathless. She felt raw and exposed but at the same time, perfectly protected and safe.
"Don't stop," she gasped as he shifted.
"Couldn't if I wanted to," he muttered as their eyes met and then his lips were on hers, his tongue in her mouth and the feeling of him on her, in her, invading her mouth and her core; Shakeba whimpered in pleasure, the sound muffled.
Shakeba could tell from the way McCoy was shaking, from the look of concentration she would catch in flashes when she didn't have her face buried against his neck or chest, that it was taking all of McCoy's willpower to keep from fucking her as hard and fast as he could. And she understood – every sound he made – every grunt and groan – drove her insane with lust so it didn't surprise her to realize her own moans and mewls were affecting him.
Shakeba completely forgot about the unforgiving wall at her back because everything else felt so incredible – like every nerve was on fire in the best possible way. She buried her face against McCoy's neck, inhaling his scent as deeply into her lungs as she could. She felt her walls tighten around his cock, felt the wetness increase, knew she was close, so close, and so did McCoy, if the way he snapped his hips to drive himself deeper into her, over and over, was any indication. He kept his arms around her, his mouth on hers, only allowing her to escape the kiss when she could no longer hold it in and needed the release that crying out gave her as her body trembled and spasmed against his.
Shakeba's orgasm triggered McCoy's and while she caught her breath, he groaned as he spent himself inside her. She ran her fingers through his hair, rubbed the base of his neck as he filled her with a liquid heat, and McCoy cursed softly into her hair as he pressed against her.
For a few moments, they stayed like that, even after he had grown limp and slipped out of her. McCoy couldn't bring himself to separate from her and it wasn't until Shakeba gently pushed on his shoulder that he realized how uncomfortable she was, jammed between him and a hard surface, her legs dangling around his waist, his weight pushing her into the unyielding wall.
"Sorry, darlin'," he mumbled, embarrassed that their first time had been such a hurried, frantic affair.
"Why are you apologizing?" she asked as he set her back down, her feet once more touching solid ground.
"That wasn't how I pictured it – making love to you the first time."
"Making love?" she replied with a hint of a smile. "That wasn't just fucking?"
"No," he answered gravely. "I don't think it'll ever be just fucking with you."
Her eyes – those large, gorgeous eyes that gave away so much of what she thought and felt when she wasn't strictly policing herself – the softness in those eyes, and the way she caressed his cheek as she gazed at him – Good God, he'd go to the ends of the universe for her if she asked him to.
"It felt good…really good…making love," she murmured softly, "I want to make love with you for as long as you'll let me."
He couldn't answer her – not verbally. He couldn't think of words that matched what was happening inside him. So he pulled her close and dipped his head to hers, kissing her softly, deeply, communicating a thousand things that could only be told through the feel of a mouth on a mouth, a body against a body.