THANK YOU GUYS for your continued patience and passion for this story! Real life can sometimes get in the way but there's no way I'm done updating this. Hope y'all love it!

The Drususian medical ward was one of the ugliest sights Yasmine had ever beheld, and she'd seen the tail end of some nasty creatures on other away missions. Apparently the subtle differences between Earth humans and these humanoids included different views on pleasing aesthetics.

Strange olive green designs were woven into the walls with burnt orange décor crawling out every few feet while everything else was the typical starch white of a hospital. It was deathly silent as each hospital bed was in its own translucent cubicle, save for McCoy's occasional impatient tapping against the steel chair where he was sprawled.

Yasmine was upright in her bed, an ice pack to her forehead and bandages holding the rest of her apparent cuts together, and even her jumpsuit had been sewn up and given back. Faint throbbing at her cheek threatened to lure in a headache but she kept it at bay by scheming instead.

"Do none of these bastards ever give it a rest? An hour and we still haven't caught more than a few seconds' break." McCoy's gruffness echoed along the four walls and back to rest against his pouting lips.

Yasmine watched the blurred figures beyond their cubicle shuffle around, still blocking their escape. "You said the door out of the ward was how far away?"

"Few yards. A few running steps will get us there."

"And then running till we're done with the rescue, Bones."

He shook his head. "I'll be sure to log both of us as plenty of exercise done for the week."

Yasmine was preparing herself to wait much longer than would keep her sane when suddenly a clatter down the hall called all attending physicians to the cubicle farthest from the exit door. She sprang up and rid herself of the torrent of sheets and McCoy kept in time with his reaction, making sure she wouldn't faint on them before they dashed for the escape.

The sterilized air stung with some kind of peroxide but it just spurred their steps all the faster and McCoy ushered her through first, not able to drop the proper gentleman act for a millisecond. He was still drenched in his cape and so blended into the Drususian surroundings fairly well, leaving Yasmine to fend for herself should they be caught.

"Alright Yaz," he tensely whispered as they crept as quickly as possible through the blessedly empty corridors, "I'm about as educated on the castle layout as a hornet is with the ocean, but my guess is that the dungeons are basement level."

"That's a strange way to ask to go down on a girl, Doc." She couldn't resist and smirked proudly as he choked on an indignant retort. "Did that line work on Nyla?"

"I might throw you in a cell myself, Roy."

Armored clattering from a few corners away suffocated any more of their repartee and instead drove them up the nearest flight of stairs. They nearly tumbled back down another one and kept up the frantic scurrying to avoid the patches of humanoid soldiers, and just as a roar of voices echoed through the stone walls Yasmine rounded a corner and slammed into a molding grate. She rubbed away what was sure to be a conspicuous bruise on her shoulder as McCoy pulled open the grate and they darted down the steps into the seedy darkness.

It was a stereotypical revolting dungeon with questionable dripping sounds and little squeaks here and there from unseen rats, but the pair barged onward toward the groupings of cages as they became visible in the dim lighting. Yasmine's hurried steps in the grime made her slip a few times and she was going to make a joke about it when they reached the end of the hall and found no trace of their comrades except a cell with the door slightly ajar.

"Goddammit, I'm gonna wring his neck when we're safe again," McCoy deadpanned, kicking the door shut.

Yasmine let herself swell with pride knowing that they had indeed escaped, that Jim's fighting spirit had yet to fail him and that meant Nyla had made it out, too. Though she quickly deflated and glared at the empty cage when her shoes squished into more filth.

"Well they got out and now we're the ones down here. And finding them outside the castle is gonna be –"

"I've always hated needles in haystacks," McCoy finished.

After a few cleared throats and adjusted clothes, they easily slid back into the routine of a rescue mission with the doctor leading the way. Yasmine matched his powerful stride until once again he apparently decided an abrupt stop was the best way to get her attention.

"Can you see that, Roy?"

Once she detangled herself from his cape her gaze followed his gesture down a smaller unlit corridor neither had noticed before. But with her eyes now accustomed to the darkness she could make out a figure clad in a tattered but striking golden shirt and slumped in one corner of his cage.

"Jim!" She dared to confine her cry to a whisper as she dashed down the hall while the knots twisting in her gut threatened to rip out altogether.

But as she neared the cage it became very clear that this wasn't Kirk. The crew-cut hair was too dark and this man was fast asleep with snores escaping now and again. McCoy was right behind her and scoffed when he came to the same conclusion, though she could feel the relief radiating off of him to match hers.

"Well Doc, looks like we get to rescue someone anyway." Yasmine shook a loose bar on the cage and the clanging was enough to wake the man. "Captain Whitney?"

He bolted upright and a string of curses followed as his head collided with the top. Taking one look at the pair, he shrugged and ran a hand over a healing bruise on his jaw. "Well you guys look a little different. Are you the food crew? Cleanup? Thank god your friends let me out to shit but I'm starved now. If you've got anything like hashbrowns I'll take 'em all."

McCoy managed to pick up his jaw from the floor before it became too rude and he shot Yasmine a bewildered look she'd only seen when new alien strains of the flu ended up in his reports.

"Captain Whitney? I'm Doctor McCoy of the U.S.S. Enterprise," he began but hushed his voice when the clacking of boots echoed toward them.

Yasmine automatically backed herself to the wall, barely registering the dampness seeping into her jumpsuit, and as soon as the guard came around the corner she swung as hard as she could at his face. The Drususian crumpled and she glided over him to retrieve the key ring that had rattled to the side.

Before even looking up the meet the eyes of the two men she was saying, "Talking wasn't gonna work, and yes my hand's fine."

Whitney shrugged. "Ok, the hot one's a badass. I'm listening."

"We're rescuing you, in case you haven't noticed." McCoy stood to oversee the operation of opening the cage, though his face read as possibly wanting to leave the captain where he was.

"And you're with the Enterprise, did you say? Doesn't Starfleet usually spare its favorite from making rescue missions?"

"Actually, if you looked at our records you'd see that we've been a part of nearly every major rescue in the past year but, ahem, that's beside the point." He continued his rebuttal with, "Our friends tried to rescue you first but apparently busted out in a hurry so we're here to try again."

Whitney snorted as he stretched his long-confined muscles. "Is that what all that ridiculous racket was about? If they were gonna pass me by they could've at least done it quietly. I was tryna sleep."

All voices were still tense whispers but Yasmine was sure someone had heard the clanking around thus far and so hooked a steadying arm around Whitney and began marching them out. "Let's worry about that later, sleeping beauty sir."

Of course the blessed silence didn't last long before Whitney was yammering again. "A captain, a doctor, and a…what're you? And did you run your name by me yet?"

"Lieutenant Yasmine Roy, systems engineer."

"And an engineer walk out of a dungeon," he finished while peeling himself free of her arm. "And I can walk on my own, Lieutenant."

McCoy piped up over his echoing steps with, "That's great, can you walk us an easy way out of here?"

"Yeah, I've probably been walked around enough."

The captain stepped past Yasmine to survey the hall and stairs leading to the main floors, leaving her to share a look with longsuffering McCoy. The sogginess of the dungeon was starting to really clog their breathing and for once she mirrored his stance of arms folded ironclad over her chest.

"Nobody told us we were rescuing a grade-A jackass," he quipped, only half trying to hide it.

"Duty calls, Doc."

Whitney suddenly broke into a run and they bounded up the steps after him, their hoarse calls frantically echoing after him. He wound them this way and that through the castle, some of it familiar to Yasmine but some of it terrifyingly not. At that rate she was convinced they'd all get caught and then how were they supposed to get out of square one again?

All at once the trio reached a decaying wooden door hanging half open with sunlight streaming in from outside. Bursting through it they squinted at the sudden brightness, but McCoy simply flung his cape on top of his head and charged to the front to lead the run.

"Not gonna be found sunbathing on my watch," he muttered as he passed.

Yasmine broke into a smile, thrilled to be running on flat ground again even if it involved weaving back and forth around trees while following a grumpy bear and an eager beaver. She gave quick thanks to the alien god that let them escape the castle seemingly undetected just as their sprinting slowed to a jog and then to a brisk walk.

"I'm assuming your pals also used the exit door that we did," Whitney mused.

When he added no other helpful comments, Yasmine said, "We're walking away from the castle, sir, that's our best bet to meet up with them for now."

"I've half a mind to yell for them," McCoy swatted at a buzzing wad of gnats that were drawn to the sheen of sweat on his forehead, "but I have a feeling all we can wait for is some fairytale sighting across a meadow."

Swatting and musing and trudging they went, breaking through the brush no more delicately than elephants and just about ready to trample any Drususian who tried bothering them now. The stakes were high and the morale was slowly being dragged up with it and Yasmine soon found herself traipsing at the front beside McCoy, though never forgetting the castle and miscreant behind them.

Unfortunately all the greenery still looked the same, so try as she might she couldn't pinpoint anything familiar to help guide them. The forest opened and closed with a few clearings, not that those made the plush vines matted with thorns any easier to walk over. Yasmine paced them the fastest but apparently the captain hadn't been on any dangerous away missions recently.

"There's not anyone chasing us at this exact second," Whitney panted, "so would you mind if we didn't run like fuckin' maniacs on our way to Taco Tuesday?"

"Thinkin' about food ain't gonna get us anywhere, captain," McCoy brushed him off easily and left it at that.

But the captain's panting simply escalated to heavy wheezing and Yasmine was debating whether to snap at him or actually check if he was alright when McCoy let out a tense cry.

"Well I'll be damned like a drunk on Sunday mornin'!"

Yasmine laughed as she marched onward from where he was frozen. "What'd you step in?"

"Nyla! Jim!" he cried again, breaking into a jog to the hard left while Yasmine swiveled sharply and stared after him, praying he wasn't falling captive to a jungle mirage.

Lo and behold the doctor hadn't lost his mind because just beyond a tall cluster of palm trees stood Jim and Nyla. Yasmine found herself only able to walk toward the pair for fear of them disappearing but she got closer and found that they were absolutely real, so real that she could see the joyous tears sparkling in Nyla's eyes until McCoy eclipsed her from view with an embrace.

And then there was Jim. Proud, defiant Jim whose face held a smirk that she'd seen countless times before and leaving her heart to nearly stop when she took in the rest of him. Golden tendrils swept this way and that and there were patches of dried blood on his lips to match the red stains on his scratched knuckles. There was a ferocity still clinging to him, a beautiful restless glow that would never leave a fight unfinished and that she found herself so infatuated with. He was panting a little bit, still coming down off the high of being on the offense but then again he was always there, always ahead of the circumstances with a spark that wouldn't be pushed away, and that spark glinted in his eye as they wordlessly came face to face.

The burning and bursting in her chest couldn't be a normal feeling.

Finally he lurched forward and grabbed her into a hug that she sagged into, neither of them releasing as time for a normal hug ticked down and then vanished altogether.

Reluctantly Yasmine pulled her arms away first, though still standing just as close. She cleared her throat and said, "We went back for you, you know. And you had the audacity to not be in the dungeon anymore."

"Guess I'll try to stay locked away next time." His small smile wasn't fazed and made her contagiously break into one of her own.

Nyla was so lost in simple fact that she was losing her goddamn mind that she missed the few long strides it took the supposed figment of her imagination to cross the space between them and fold her against his body with all the force of a man dying of dehydration discovering an endless well of water. The hug stole her breath faster than any space vacuum could and had her clinging to the fitted fabric of the real life Leonard McCoy's shirt. The sharp wind whipped at his back, billowing his cape around them like a curtain, offering a moment of solitude from the rest of the planet. Just his heart thudding precarious fast against her ear, his hands sure as an artist's, locked behind her back with no key in sight.

"Where the hell have you been?" Bones grumbled into her hair. His gruff voice tumbled over her, scraping away the layers of filth from the prison cell, wiping the sweat from her brow and erasing the newly formed scars in her mind. When he looked at her not a damn other thing in all the galaxies mattered. He smelled of dirt and sweat, things her nose had never associated with the immaculately groomed doctor before. Now, she buried herself in the scent, relishing the simple fact that they were both still physically and mentally intact.

"James and I were just getting the full tour, which unfortunately included chains and these really weird finger foods, but not in a kinky way. Our job is exploration, right? Does that not extend to the dungeons?" she attempted to put her usual whimsical purr behind the words, but they just came out leaded with the weight of what she and Kirk had endured.

"Where are your goddamn shoes?" Bones demanded.

"With the goddamn Drususians," Nyla responded, prying a smile from the reluctant recesses of his soul. "Where's Uhura and Spock?" she retorted.

"Beamed back up for help. Don't have the faintest what's taking them as long as sloths in molasses to get back," Bones said.

She waved her hands as if to chase away the sentiment and he caught the still throbbing appendage. The wind puttered to a standstill, gravity dragging his cloak back around his ankles and leaving the moment raw and open for all to see, but Bones was unrelenting in his touch, in his concerned gaze. Surely he did not look at all his patients like that. "What did you do? Smack Jim's anvil of a hard head?" He turned over her hand, surgically cool fingers chasing away the heat from the forest encasing them on all sides.

Kirk opened his mouth to protest but Yasmine just swatted his side as he released her from their own hug. "Don't even try and fight that one, Captain," she said.

"I was going to say she nailed one of our guards with that hand. It was so gorgeous. You guys really missed out," Kirk said.

"Sexy," Yasmine approved with a nod.

"Hurts," Nyla responded, whining when Bones tested her range of motion. He began with gently twisting her wrist up, then down, drawing a hiss when he gently curled her fingers. "It's probably broken. Do you think we have to amputate it?" Nyla pouted

Bones shook his head, laugh dancing through the trees. The crinkle around the edges of his eyes chased away any lingering pain more effectively than any drug he could have administered. "Not even a sprain. You threw a punch Muhammad Ali would have been proud of. You'll survive I think." His hands raised to brush the angry red marks around the collar of her dress. "Goddamn Drususians," he spat.

Nyla was too busy fighting off the feverish tingles his touch created to hear when their extra companion finally spoke up. "I didn't know Star Fleet started hiring a runway team instead of an actual crew. Does she actually have a job?" He eyed Nyla with his lips twisting as much as his muck covered hands. He spun to Kirk glancing him up and down half-amused, half-patronizing. "You're the Captain?"

Kirk took a second to coax the frown from his lips before jutting out his hand, eyes fixed well above the misrepresented golden hue of the new addition's shirt. "That was Doctor Nyla Harlow, an upstanding member of my crew, and you will address her and everyone else present with respect. James T. Kirk. You must be Captain Whitney."

"Could get your own skinny ass outta that shithole, but didn't have time for little old me?" Whitney demanded.

"Apologies. We would have gone back if we had known. And if it didn't risk dirtying our top of the line clothes," Kirk said with his smile in place all the while.

"Alright, alight," Bones interjected before either man could lunge for the other's throat. "Enough flirting. Let me see those cuts, Jim."

Bones steered Kirk far enough away from the others so there was no longer a risk of testosterone overload. Yasmine kept Whitney talking, strategically occupying the man's repulsive gaze and tongue away from Nyla.

"You should have left him," Kirk muttered under his breath, whining when Bones sprayed a quick antiseptic solution on the scratch on his cheek.

A check of the eyebrow was all the doctor offered in response.

"I know, I know. Regulations, human decency, whatever. Can we sedate him? Is that an option?"

"You want risk not having that should we need it later? I've only got so much in this kit."

"I don't plan on letting the Drususians have another advantage. I know Harlow sure as hell doesn't." With a swipe of his tongue between his parched lips, Kirk leveled tantalizing blue eyes at his dark haired friend. "You were sure glad to see her."

"Dammit man, my grandma used to preach to me about that splinter in someone else's eye versus the log in your own!"

"I think that was more of a confirmation than you intended, eh Bones?" The harsh swipe of a sterile gauze over Kirk's wounds was not enough to derail the focused man. "We had a lot of bonding time in that cell, Doctor Harlow and I. She told me everything."

"Hard, considering there's nothing to tell you nosy bastard." A nod of approval at his completed inspection sent Bones packing up all his supplies again. "And while we're on the subject that you opened up, there's a nice little alcove a ways back into the trees if you and Lieutenant Roy were feeling the urge to shack up again."

The air rushed out of Kirk's open mouth, but before he could get out a retort Bones continued on. "Lord give me strength, Jim, the bunnies would be jealous of the way you hop from bed to bed."

"Oh, cut me a break. I'm not doing that. There's not that many beds to...hop to. That metaphor sucked. But it's just been the one bed."

"Oh I know damn well which bed, Jim. You're being safe, right? Because I stopped screening you when you told me you were inactive on that playing field."

"You really should have known better to be honest."

Kirk laughed as Bones shoved his shoulder and the older man let a reluctant smile grace his shadowed lips.

"I like the scruff, by the way. You look like a real jungle man," Kirk added.

"I haven't even seen a razor since we left and…hell and damnation, you're not getting off that easy."

Kirk opened his mouth and Bones jumped to cut him off. "Don't say a damned thing about how you actually get off. I mean it Jim!"

Bones called this as Kirk got back to his feet, brandishing his new bandages like badges of honor while he strolled back over to Nyla, dragging Bones' gaze along with him, assessing her body in the most professional way.

A bird screeched in the background, warning of the impending sunset and their need for some form of shelter. Nyla wiped her hands against her grimy dress and nudged Kirk as he came to a stop beside her. The sun was being pulled to the horizon faster than a plan could be formulated. Eventually, the crew decided to head towards the outskirts of the city, voting for that the less Drususian encounters the better even if it meant a lower possibility of finding a place to squat in. Their traveling party fell into a simple train with Kirk taking the lead as their working conductor and Yasmine keeping an easy pace next to him. Max Whitney followed a little too close to their asses for Bones' liking and he voice as much under his breath.

"Easy there, Southern Belle," Nyla teased.

He prompted her around a particularly gnarly tree root, hand remaining between her shoulder blades long after the threat to her bare toes. And his eyes remained fixed on her instead of the road ahead. "That dress looks like it's been run through one too many wood chippers," he said.

"Just one, I think. And I liked it a lot better before a swarm of mosquitoes took up residency somewhere between my boobs." Nyla picked at the stained fabric, sneaking a peak beneath just in case she was not merely exaggerating.

"It's not that humid."

"I'm sorry, what was that, Georgia?"

"Get more original jokes, Ny."

Her head craned back to peer at him. The fading sunlight hit him from behind, capturing his own light sparking behind dark tone of his eyes. Irritable, wonderful Bones who did not even realize the emptiness his simple presence filled. Brown hair twisted to and fro and stretched down to cover his chin as well. A yearning for sleep dragged his steps but did not quite reach the hope still burning like a fever in his grimly set mouth. Despite the isolation, the hostile planet bearing down on them, and the blisters those dress boots were undoubtedly giving him, the man refused to do anything else but face it head on, complaints aside.

"Well, fuck me," Max Whitney voiced as the flat rooftop of a neglected little shack through the foliage.

It was the most pitiful little building, about the size of one living quarter back aboard the Enterprise. Once it must have boasted a proud red color to stand out from the living forest, but now the paint was so eroded it looked like the walls were leaking blood that the parched dirt was only too happy to drink up. The tin sitting atop rattled in an unspoken breeze with a slow steady beat that reminded Nyla faintly of a death march.

"That doesn't look like something straight out of a Steven King novel," Bones replied.

"If it means I won't have to cuddle up with the creepy crawlies of this planet, it's my kinda place," Yasmine praised, dashing ahead to pry at a door that was already scarcely clinging to its hinges.

"Hell, Roy, you can't just wander off alone." Bones chased after her and Kirk followed in his wake.

Whitney glanced back, at Nyla, teeth tearing away at his chapped lower lip. "Need me to hold your hand, Ny?"

Nyla scoffed silently, glanced down and sauntered up to the stranded captain, tapping his nose. "It's Doctor, thanks."

The laughter from her friends echoed in the one room shack, dragging her through its doors and into the brilliant atmosphere her crew had instilled in only a few meager moments. Despite the night encroaching from outside, the few solar flares perched in the corners kept the room from giving in to the dark. Kirk was already claiming a wall to sleep against while wrestling with Yasmine for the thickest blanket. Bones chastised them, sorting their rations into five equal piles. Nyla scooped up a ratty blanket from their supplies and plopped down beside Bones, claiming the protein bar piece that looked the biggest.

"We don't have coffee, do we?" she asked through a full mouth.

"'Fraid not darlin'. You'll just have to brave the morning like the rest of us." Bones swiped at one of the pieces of her meal she accidently spit on him.

Nyla grinned bashfully as he used the same finger to knock against her chin. Whitney traipsed in, ignoring his portion of the food and pouting in a corner with his arms crossed over his chest.

"There's an extra blanket for you. We had more crew when we started," Yasmine offered. She was the only one able to speak to him without losing all rational thoughts. Whitney disregarded her too and Yasmine shrugged, and stretched out between Nyla and Kirk. "But now that we're all stuffed in here, someone had better get used to cuddling me," she commanded.

"With Jim snoring like a fucking garbage disposal on steroids, none of us have to worry about that pesky sleeping thing anyway, Roy," Bones input. He tilted his head, chewing thoughtfully on his own dinner. "But you knew that already, right?" A smirk followed up the teasing accusation that just made Kirk groan and Yasmine wink.

The lieutenant yanked Nyla down by her arm and drew her under the blanket when no one moved to follow her previous request. "It's about to get real cold," she said, yawning straight in Nyla's face. "How much do you think we walked today, Doc?" she addressed Bones through eyes barely held open. "Marathon at minimum, right? It's completely different on this terrain than on those treadmills. My legs feel like those shitty noodles from the cafeteria…" Yasmine let out one more yawn before slipping into unconsciousness.

Kirk was staring at her, his gaze soft and just as weary as every soul in the room.

"You alright, James?" Nyla asked.

A shake of his head cleared an emotion Nyla was all too familiar with from his eyes. He promptly swiped his food and laid on his blanket to eat it. Nyla rolled to face Bones, wondering if her eyes glossed over like Kirk's when she watched him. Kirk had said something about her having feelings for the resident doctor while they were escaping, and she was tired of denying the truth behind his words. Bones roused himself to check the secured door and single window, voicing no current threats to Kirk.

When he swept up a thermoregulating blanket and settled in the single space left between Nyla and the front wall, she felt the barbed hook of something she dared not name snare her heart. His arm propped his head and he let out a long slow breath before the cool evening chased away the tension in his muscles. And when those oh so soft, painfully sincere eyes fell on hers, she didn't look away. He was noble in danger; Kirk was rash and Yasmine was bold. All Nyla had was her words, and tonight they didn't feel like enough; tonight she reached out to find his hand and twisted her fingers with his because they were not on the Enterprise and they were not doctors right now. They were castaways with only a merciless forest as witness.

His grip was loose, just waiting for her to pull away. She gave a quick squeeze to his hand and a hesitant smile pulled at his bone tired lips. Sleep rose up with a touch more gentle than that of a lover, claiming her just as adamantly.