AN: Usual disclaimer, the rights to Star Trek etc. belong to someone else. The entire story is complete on my PC, and I'll try to load up a new chapter every few days. Please read and review – constructive feedback will help me finalise the remaining chapters.

Chapter 7

Kirk descended down to the ground floor and straight into the huge negotiation suite. An imposing 'C' shaped solid oak table filled the room. The warmth of the wood invited him to swipe his hands along its surface. The walls of the room were inlaid with highly polished marble. Several Kirk's moved through the room as he did. Floor to ceiling windows afforded the delegates with a view of the stunning flora and fauna in garden. The royal crests of the Ranyari tribes - purples, green and orange flowed from the ceiling and pooled on the floor. Made from sumptuous velvets and other rich materials he could not identify. As per security protocol, the room was swept on a hourly basis for bugging or explosive devices - the Starfleet personnel working in pairs sweeping the room with tricorders.

The guards led the way to the imposing figure of Samson. With her back towards him orders were barked out to a group of her security detail. 'Dismissed!' She furiously shouted, as they trooped away. Before Kirk could address her, in a hushed tone she acknowledged his presence.

'Captain, apologies for disturbing you. Come, walk with me'.

Strolling away Samson expected Kirk to be by her side or behind her. Matching his pace to hers, he soon caught up as they moved deeper into the spectacular gardens.

'Earth is a wonderful place, I enjoyed the time I spent there training with Starfleet...' wistfully recalling her time there. A little unsettled, Kirk was keen to discover why he had been summoned.

'What did you do when you were on Earth? She didn't look that much older than him and her declaration was surprising. Although Earth was now home to many intergalactic species anybody as striking as the Perpetuans would still stand out.

'I spent 2 years on a skills exchange learning about various security techniques which we have adapted for use here', she spoke proudly of her achievement. Thinking about it, he noted there was something familiar about the way her security team operated.

'So where did you stay?' Kirk willing to play along, she obviously had a reason for the unexpected turn in their conversation.

'I was based in Italy, the culture and art was enlightening...'

Out of sight, Samson received a signal that it was safe to talk. Switching back to official duty, she waited contemplating how to inform the captain.

'A few hours ago a message was intercepted between two delegates of the Zozshani tribe. It alluded to the possible assassination attempt against Citizen Monan. My people have upped their presence, and we have it under control'.

Kirk nodded understanding the implication, 'I assume those transmissions have been shared with Starfleet', a statement rather than a question, he was very aware the situation had the potential to turn very bad, very quickly.

'...Of course', Samson responded slowly, he noticed the hesitation.

'Well, it seems like you do have the situation under control'. Though he was still unclear why she could not have told him this in his suite.

'Monogamy is not practiced here on Perpetous. Provost Kulj'ita meant no disrespect when he approached Commander Uhura'.

Kirk defiantly smirked, carefully folding his arms across his chest he impassively responded 'I am sure Commander Uhura took no offence...neither did I'. Samson was not stupid, she could see from his reaction Uhura was very important to him.

'Good', she curtly nodded and turned back to look over the garden 'I'll have the guards take you back'.

Entering his room he was unsurprised to see it empty, various tours were taking place and it was a great opportunity to unwind before the real work started. Summoning Sulu, he stripped off his jacket and dropped it into the nearest chair. Grabbing his PADD he typed a message to Starfleet. Whilst he had no reason to believe Samson was lying, it was better to be safe than sorry.

'Sulu here, captain we received a copy of the transmission, it came through before you called. Officer Getta transported back on board and is working with the other communications officers reviewing traffic chatter over the past 24hrs'. Kirk stopped typing, how the hell does Getta know. I only just found out myself.

'Mr Sulu patch me through to Officer Getta', a few seconds silence; he noticed McCoy had let himself back into his room 'knock much Bones...' he mouthed.

'Captain, Getta here. I assume you're wondering how I knew about the threat. My contact at Starfleet informed me...I came to speak to you, but Dr McCoy informed me you were with Samson'. Kirk raised his eyebrow at his friend, McCoy motioned that it was true as he stood nearby 'I knew she would inform you. To save time, I thought it prudent I get back to the ship...was that ok?'. Kirk gave a what the fuck look to McCoy, who in return held up his hands demanding to be left out of it.

'Yes, yes. It's fine'. Pinching the bridge of his nose he noisily sighed, 'Look are you fine staying up there monitoring transmissions. I need someone up there who understands the issue...' Kirk felt uncomfortable Getta seemed to have the upper hand.

'Yes Captain. Of course. I'll keep you abreast of anything I find out. Getta out', the line went dead.

'Aren't you meant to be the one who ends the discussion?', McCoy ambled towards his friend.

'Not now Bones, I'm dealing with death threats and communication officers who have suddenly grown brains...neither is very reassuring...I have to-'.

Cutting off Kirk's tirade, 'Jim, we, and I really mean you, have a bigger problem...'. Kirk groaned, moving around the room contemplating whom else he had to inform.

'I'm kind of busy here. Can this wait. I have assassins potentially on the loose'. His tone intended to dismiss McCoy .

'James! You have a starship of personnel that can handle this situation for a few hours. Focus!'.

Kirk froze, he narrowed his eyes at McCoy and placed his hands firmly on his hip, 'Okay, what is it?

McCoy rushed over to the replicator 'two double scotches straight up, now!' Both materialised in front of him, he immediately downed one and walked over shoving the other towards Kirk. Looking down at the unexpected gift, Kirk took the glass. McCoy quickly tapped his clenched fist against his forehead. Why do I have to be the bearer of bad news?

'Bones...What is it?' Suddenly it dawned on him, 'Where is Nyota?' No longer convinced she was on a tour, haphazardly he placed the glass down on the table. 'Where is she?' afraid of the response.

'She's giving you space...', McCoy placed a comforting hand on Kirk's shoulder, using the other to hand him the unfinished drink.

Crumpling into an armchair, the PADD clattered to the floor. Aware McCoy was crouched down speaking to him, his words distorted and so far away.

'I need to see her', his limbs refused to co-operate, he collapsed back into the seat. You've lost her and for what? Stupid insecurities... his own mind cruelly taunting him.

'Jim, stay where you are...' McCoy alarmed the once so assured captain was reduced to this spectacle.

Legs splayed in front of him he cupped another glass of scotch. Gulping it down he winced at the burn, 'I need to tell her...I need...' his voice trailed off. Sorrowfully he peered at McCoy, 'I've broken us, haven't I?' Angrily dashing the glass at the nearest wall. The shattered shards glistening on the floor.

'Are you ready to tell me what's going on?' McCoy calmly asked, approaching the replicator he knew more alcohol would loosen Kirk's lips.

Kirk submissively watched McCoy. Where to begin? How to begin? With another drink in front of him the amber liquid swayed as he exhaled. McCoy settled back down and waited.

In hushed tones he began, 'Bones, I am nearly the same age my father was when he died...'

McCoy contemplated the opening statement. 'What else? Six months of weirdness and that's all you've got to say...'

Kirk inhaled deeply, 'Uhura makes me a better person. She's the one Bones. I even told my mother about her being the one...' he ruefully chuckled. Then angrily, 'Do you know what she said, she said I was a fool for contemplating any sort of serious relationship as long as I was in Starfleet, nothing but hurt comes out of it. That Nyota should leave me or I should leave her' Guiltily he conceded, 'God, I even thought about doing it...leaving her...but I couldn't...I love her'. Remaining quiet, McCoy knew it was not the time to offer an opinion; Kirk had more to say. 'I have to keep her safe, protected from the dangers out there.'

Over the last few months he had become increasingly apprehensive about the missions they went on, going so far as to covertly swapping her off missions that he considered too dangerous. Yes, they both knew about the risks, but he didn't have to accept it. Not when it came to her. As captain, without sounding conceited he was more likely to be in the firing line than any of the crew. It came part and parcel of the role. But for her, no, he would be damned if she was exposed any more than necessary. What if a mission went wrong and he wasn't around to protect her? He couldn't live with the idea he might inadvertently cause her death...Living without her. His chest constricted, the vice like grip of panic touching him. He forced out one ragged breath after the other.

'Dammit man, how long have you been having panic attacks'. McCoy grabbed a wrist to assess Kirk's heart rate. It was racing off the charts. 'You need to calm down, now, before you pass out!'.

McCoy collected his thoughts then crossly shouted, 'Jim, you're a fucking idiot. Why did you never mention this to her, or me?' Pointing at his finger at his friend 'that girl is up there thinking she's done something wrong, and all the time it's your silly selfish insecurities...' Flinching from the outburst Kirk shrunk back into his seat. 'What did you think I was going to say? Aww poor Jim. So far all this seems to be about you, have you given any thought to how she might feel about the danger you might be in? Man the fuck up and tell that girl what is wrong with you!'.

Taking a deep breath, he more calmly continued, 'everyone feels insecure the closer they are to the person they love. You're more exposed, things feel realer and more intense. So you might die, hell she might die, news flash we're all going to at some point. Besides our job is no more or less dangerous than it was a few years ago. In fact I'd say we're safer, you're less inclined to go balls to the wall crazy executing a plan...'

Kirk peered at McCoy from beneath his thick lashes. In a low voice, 'How do I make this right?'

With as much conviction as McCoy could muster, 'Kid, you woo the hell out of her, and you apologise for as long as it takes, and you pray to God she accepts!'

Earlier, Uhura made her excuses to Yeoman Rand and spoke to Samson about her immediate departure back to the Enterprise. Neither questioned why, but was reassured when she reaffirmed her intention to continue on the intervention panel.

'Enterprise, one to beam up', to her surprise the request was met with no hint of concern. As she felt the transporter envelop her, she hoped giving him space was the right decision. A split second later she stood on the platform, the sensual smells from the planet replaced by the sterile air of her adopted home. Laboriously stepping down, she couldn't be sure but swore the three engineers furtively casting glances her way were speaking about her. I'm being ridiculous. How could they possibly know? Still that did not stop her giving them the dirtiest look she could.

Just then a red-faced Scotty bounded into the transporter room, concern etched onto his face. Loudly so there was no misunderstanding 'Commander Uhura, I take it you're back because of that implied death threat to Citizen Monan...' He would never win any prizes for acting, and gave Uhura a look to play along with the charade.

'Uh yes...' Confused and unaware of the threat 'yes. That's correct' stating with more gusto. 'I'm urgently needed, but will return for the intervention', quickly glancing over her shoulder to make sure people overheard. The final statement a hidden message for Scotty.

A subtle nod of comprehension, 'Good, good. I'll walk with you'. He protectively placed his hand in the small of her back and rushed her out into the brightly lit corridor. They aimlessly walked in silence, she not ready to answer his questions. When acknowledged by fellow crew members, she greeted them as expected.

'So...back to your quarters then?' He took her silence as an affirmative.

She threw her bag on the bed, 'here down this lassie', he thrust the unknown purple liquor at her. Holding the glass up to her face for a closer inspection, it shimmered and when she tilted the glass slightly, the purple morphing into a darker green. It looked harmless enough. Gingerly, she sniffed the contents 'phwoar!' She staggered back as the tears threatened to cloud her vision. The smell made her seriously reconsider accepting anything unknown from Scotty again. Clasping his chest, and fanning his mouth, he throatily justified 'it's good aye? Tellasian winter ale. For those cold winter nights-',

'What as?! Fuel?!', she made a face refusing to allow anything that smelled that intoxicating near her. Down on a table, the liquid shimmered invitingly. 'How did you know I was back?', then offhandedly answering her own question 'Yeoman Rand. Too efficient for her own good that one', the snide remark, symbolic of the misplaced anger she had towards Kirk.

'Oi! Don't shoot the message Nyota', he menacingly reproached her before settling down on the sofa. Legs up, he almost looked ready to take a nap.

'Pfffft...' forcing his legs down to make space for herself. 'Drinking on duty, isn't that a punishable offence?' coolly castigating him.

'Ok Nyota, park the defensive act, dare I say bitchy and tell me why you're really back? He retaliated, reminding himself she was obviously not in a good place. It wasn't really him she want to vent at.

So she talked, she talked about how strange it was to feel numb yet angry at the same time, how she was uncertain about the decision she had made, how she couldn't understand how he could hurt her so much and claim to love her.

Without warning, all the fight left her and she began to shake uncontrollably 'Scotty...I'm...I'm...so cold', her voice small and thready. He flew off the sofa, ripping the blanket off the bed, and in a flash wrapped it round her. Arms around her, he let her cry big jerky sobs until all that was left was the gentle breathing of her sleeping.

She woke with a start in her bed confused about how she ended up there. The room was dark, and Scotty was nowhere to be seen. The clock glowed 0017 and in less than 10 hours she would have to face Kirk and still be composed enough to mingle with the attendees. Her eyes felt scratchy and puffy, her throat parched.

Flipping the covers off her body, she limped to the replicator, 'water cold' she mumbled as the glass took shape in front of her. As she sipped, her tummy refused to accept the water and she just about made it to the bathroom. Having not eaten since lunch, all she offered were dry heaves. That will teach me not to eat, carefully rising off the floor, she lethargically stripped out of her crumpled uniform. The shower looked inviting, turning the heat up high, the sting of the water, dulled into the mild pitter patter of a familiar touch. She leant onto her outstretched arms, trying to wash away the day. After 20 minutes, she stepped out, automatically reaching for her sleepshirt, which was his sleepshirt. Resisting the urge to inhale his scent, she threw it onto the floor. Instead grabbing a Starfleet crewneck, slipped it on and padded back to her bed.

As she approached, the flashing red light on her personal PADD indicated several unread messages. Apprehensively, she held the tablet and settled back under the covers. An alert read 'inbox full'. How is that even possible? She tapped to open the messages and was met with every one over the past half day coming from Kirk - verbal and written. Unsure where to even start, or even if it was the best thing to access them, her department PADD began to flash with an active incoming comms. Only one person would call that late at night and hope for a response...Jim.