Chapter 5: A New Man On Board

Isara

The next couple of hours passed uneventfully. I ran the med bay for a while, Bones still holed up in his office. There was nothing as serious as Chancey's toe, so I was able to leave much sooner than I had thought. I didn't want to talk to Bones again already and I didn't know where else to go, so I decided to find my sleeping quarters.

I reported to the room in the barracks that I had originally been assigned. As a member of senior staff I had a room to myself- albeit a small one- and my order change had been so last-minute that my single small bag was still sitting on the fold-out bed. I winced when I saw that it looked like it had just been thrown haphazardly from the doorway, but admitted that Starfleet wasn't known for its cuddliness.

Above the slightly sparkly orange bed (anyone who questioned the color choice was given a jumbled answer about tradition), there were two lights built into the ceiling which could be dimmed with a switch by the door. They let out a dull yellow glow to mimic sunlight during the "day" and a paler shine like moonlight at "night." A desk stood directly across from the bed with its own chair, both made of the same grey-white plastic. A small piece of furniture that doubled as a bedside table and a chest of drawers was the only other object in the room. The walls were a neutral pale blue and the floor and ceiling were white. Everything spoke of efficiency instead of comfort, and the garish bed grabbed your attention and screamed at you. With a sigh, I set my PADD on the desk and turned to my belongings.

I tried to numb my mind to my anxiety by performing the simple tasks of cataloguing the room and unpacking. Tried being the key word. There had been the kiss with Bones, of course, and the general stress of being new on the ship, and there was also the miniscule fact that several of the highest-ranking crew were on an away mission to catch a dangerous and homicidal psychopath. I grudgingly accepted that Kirk had turned out ok, and he was a friend of Bones after all. Spock and Uhura also seemed nice and confident in their roles. It would be a disappointment to me if I never had the opportunity to work alongside them, not to mention the effect that it would have on those members of the crew who actually knew them.

I opened my bag and began to empty the items from inside it. First came two spare tunics, one spare medical officer pin, and another pair of black leggings like the ones I was wearing. I put these in the top drawer of my "dresser" and mentally labeled that part "uniforms." Then I pulled out a pair of jeans, a plain black crewneck t-shirt, a blue blouse, a pair of sneakers and some ordinary socks. These, along with my spare underclothes, went into the second drawer. I devoted the third drawer to a sensible, warm set of pajamas and a thick pair of socks.

There were only a few more items in my bag now. The book that I was currently reading- A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens- was placed on top of my bedside table. Then I stopped to look at the objects in my hands.

My left hand grasped a crumpled and beaten sign- "Isara Jones: Official Hugger. Best hugs this side of the mountains." The glitter glue around the edges had shed on to all of my clothing (that was sure to get me a teasing from Kirk, probably along the lines of how I could put my "Official Hugger" skills to more… euphemistic use if being a doctor didn't work out) but the bold letters still conveyed their message. In my right hand was a picture frame.

This was not just any picture frame. This picture frame represented two months' savings, for one thing; Starfleet cadets had to live cheap. The thick silver border was delicately engraved with a pattern of climbing vines hung with blooming flowers and birds. The picture that it held, however, was worth so much more. It was vivid and starkly contrasted, so you couldn't help but glance at it wherever you were in relation to it. It showed three Starfleet cadets, though you would never know it because of their outfits. Alanna Hunt, my old roommate, was wearing a vibrant pink sundress and her blonde hair flowed down her shoulders, gleaming in the bright sunlight. Bones was in the middle wearing black slacks and a white t-shirt. I was on the far right, and I positively beamed in the glowing lemon yellow dress that I wore. Bones had his arms over Alanna's and my shoulders and we were all three laughing hard at something that the person taking the picture had just said. The Cascade Mountains rose in the background, purple and blue and only differentiated from the sky by the slim line of white that dusted their peaks.

I remembered that day as though it were the day before, but, at the same time, it seemed like a lifetime ago. I remembered how nice it had been to get out of my uniform for our weekend off, how we had all decided on a whim to drive as far as we could towards the mountains before we had to turn around and head back to school, how Alanna had laughed at me when a slight breeze lifted my skirt and I immediately looked around to make sure Bones hadn't seen. I remembered the sun in my eyes as we took that picture, and how I had laughed until I was dizzy (though I couldn't for the life of me remember what the person taking the picture had said), and how Bones's arm jolted against my shoulders as he laughed, too. I remembered how Bones and I had fallen asleep with our heads resting on each other in the back seat while Alanna drove and she had pulled over and taken a picture and used it for blackmail. Actually, if I remembered correctly…

Yes, it was still there. Hidden behind the first picture was the one of me and Bones. It was blurry and the lighting was horrible, but we were still recognizable. Our faces were slack, our backs slumped forward and into each other, our hands in our laps and our feet tangled together. A long string of drool stretched from the corner of my mouth to Bones's shoulder. I had forgotten that part; that was both gross and embarrassing.

I rearranged the photographs so that the original one was in front and placed the frame on top of my book. I leaned the sign against the wall so that it was standing up on my bedside table. As an afterthought, I retrieved a pen from the bottom of my bag, crossed out "mountains," replaced it with "milky way," and put it back. There were no mountains in empty space.

As soon as I had stuffed my now-empty bag under my bed, a comms unit over my desk that I hadn't noticed before bleeped a loud booo-weee-oooop. Commander Spock came on and said "Doctors McCoy and Jones to the brig, please."

I jogged over (as well as I could jog in such a small space) and pressed one of the buttons, responding "Dr. Jones, on my way there. Jones out."

I arrived at the brig seconds after everyone else, having had to make a slight detour to pick up an emergency kit from the med bay. I couldn't think of any reason that I would be needed, unless the away mission had gone badly wrong. Adrenaline pumped through my veins at the thought. Going to the brig implied that John Harrison had been captured, and I hoped that he was the only one who had been injured. I half marched, half skipped to stand in a line with Captain Kirk, Commander Spock, and Bones, pulling on a sterile pair of gloves as I came to a stop. I didn't have time to scan my companions for trauma before my eyes met those of the person in the brig.

I had seen pictures of John Harrison before, but he looked somehow more in real life. His skin was pale, bordering on grey, and contrasted distinctly with his dark hair. Like mine, I thought absently, remembering how my childhood friends had teased and called me "Snow White." His lips were so full, and his nose was… different. His eyes were grey and shrewd and intelligent, obviously making rapid calculations about everyone they fell upon. His shoulders were broad and muscular but he appeared light on his feet.

I didn't notice that I was staring at him appraisingly until Harrison quirked an eyebrow, amused. I matched the gesture, determined not to admit my surprise. That is, until I noticed that Bones was also staring at me, a disbelieving expression on his face. Then I glanced down and broke eye contact, annoyed at myself and at the adrenaline which I was sure had been to blame.

Without saying anything, Bones turned away and pulled the hole in the glass between us up to chest level, suddenly avoiding my gaze. "Please put your arm through the opening, I need to take a blood sample." Harrison obeyed, but his eyes stayed focused aggressively on Kirk the entire time.

I turned to Kirk, who was keeping a damn good neutral expression considering the circumstances, and sighed when I saw the cuts and bruises on his face. I set my kit on the ground and began to open it, but he waved his hand at me to stop. Then Harrison started to speak and I couldn't help but glance back up at him.

Before I entered medical school, I spent a year abroad at Oxford University. The velvety tones of his perfect accent sent me spiraling back to the streets of London on weekends, where grey buildings met the sky with barely a seam and hundreds of years' worth of history seeped up from the very streets. I hadn't thought about that time in years, but a voice was enough to transport me when I was already so emotionally unsteady. I didn't catch many of his words, but I managed to understand a hint about secrets inside the torpedoes and at the coordinates .

I felt a gentle touch on my hip as Kirk's hand brushed me. I looked up, startled, and tried to deduce whether it had been intentional or not. My immediate flare of indignation was enough to push all daydreams out of my head. Meanwhile, Bones was staring at me like I was dribbling on my shirt.

"Dr. Jones? Are you listening?"

"Sorry, Dr. McCoy?" I shot Kirk a brief glare as I bent down to retrieve my medical supplies, but he either ignored me or didn't see.

"We need to go run tests on this blood."

I nodded, keeping my poker face on because I wasn't sure where the two of us stood. His formal tone certainly didn't bode well. As we strode purposefully in the direction of the med bay, Spock followed after Kirk to try to dissuade him from what was probably another stupid idea.

Bones and I worked very professionally, almost coolly, with each other after seeing Khan. He transitioned into his brusque medical speech, which made it difficult for me to gauge how annoyed me was at me

"Options: test on organism, lab tests, centrifuge and try to identify components."

"Well, one of the tribbles you've got have has died since the beginning of the voyage. We could see what regenerative properties the blood has based on its effect on the tribble." He nodded and sent a nurse off to retrieve the creature. "Other than that, I would suggest chemical tests to check oxygen, glucose, and enzyme levels, as well as any other unusual compounds. I would be happy to take a sample to the chemical lab and request any necessary tests, or complete them myself."

Bones nodded again. "I trust the chem lab guys to run the tests, all you have to do is take the sample over." I winced slightly at the implication that I couldn't be trusted to perform the tests, but nodded my affirmation.

"Yes Doctor, I'll take it now." I quickly transferred half of the blood sample into another test tube and stalked out of the med bay.

I was getting really annoyed at the cold shoulder treatment for one look at Harrison. It wasn't like Bones had ever really expressed any interest in me. Ok, so maybe he had expressed a little interest in me. Ok, so maybe I had ignored most of the interest he expressed in me. What was I supposed to do if I didn't want to ruin our friendship?

The adrenaline coursing through my system had dissipated, and with it any admiration I may have had for Khan.

"Can I help you with something, Doctor?" I had reached the med bay without realizing it, and a confused lab technician was standing in front of me.

"Yes. Please run all the standard tests on this blood sample, but pay special attention to oxygen and enzyme levels. Dr. McCoy or I will send you a list of special tests to perform very shortly." I shoved the sample at the man and whipped around to make my exit.

I decided to say something significant to Bones when I got back to the med bay, but before I could even open my mouth I was interrupted by the chirping tone of the comms unit. This time it was Kirk's voice.

"Dr. McCoy, please report to the bridge." I must have sighed audibly because Bones spared me a glance as he walked past. Almost as an afterthought, the comms came back on and Kirk said, completely serious, "If the med bay isn't too busy, Dr. Jones had better come along to keep an eye on him." I could practically hear Bones's eyes roll as he very noticeably didn't wait for me and continued towards the bridge.

"I have to tell you Jim, when I imagined myself stuck on a deserted planet with a beautiful woman, there was no torpedo." Kirk turned to me and raised an eyebrow, and I just shook my head and rolled my eyes. Kirk smiled a little in spite of himself and tried to keep Bones on course, but my colleague continued to flirt shamelessly.

We were on the bridge, Kirk in his chair and I standing behind him as the usual activity flowed around us. I transferred my weight from one foot to the other as I listened to Dr. Marcus explaining various aspects of the torpedo. Obviously, Bones wasn't paying the least amount of attention.

"I once performed an emergency C-section on a pregnant gorn. Octuplets- that wasn't pretty. I think I can work some magic on your missile." I glared at the general space in front of me, both because of the painfully awkward flirting and because I was annoyed that he was flirting at all.

As scathingly as I could, I asked Kirk, "Are you sure he's not talking to you?"

"Ummm… yes, I'm sure." Out of the corner of my vision, I saw him glance up at me and smile lightly. That didn't make me any less angry.

"Well, I'm sure glad we cleared that up."

"I heard that," came a static-y growl from the planet below, but I ignored it.

Every sound came through the comms unit; the crunch of the gravelly planet beneath their feet, the directions which Dr. Marcus gave to Bones in hopes of deactivating the torpedo. The snap as the device activated and a simultaneous panicked yelp.

Panic exploded in my heart. All former anger lost in the space of a heartbeat, I gripped the back of Kirk's chair and leaned forwards. Where before I had only been aware of vague motion swirling around me, I could now feel every minute movement on the bridge. Uhura tapped rapidly on two different computers at once while everyone tensed and readied for whatever course of action might be necessary. There was no fear present- everyone was too good at their jobs for that- but anxiety and adrenaline seemed to coil in the very air.

"Beam them back!" Kirk struggled to keep his voice controlled. I could feel the bones in my fingers creaking with the force of my grip, but I did not relent. The pain was keeping me grounded to the ship, and through it I imagined that I might be able to feel my way to a solution. Nothing but the light tremors of the engines responded.

"Cannot differentiate between Dr. McCoy and the torpedo. We beam one back, we get them both."

Bones sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth as he insisted "Jim, get her back."

I closed my eyes; there was nothing I could do but hold on tight and wish and pray harder than I ever had.

"No! You beam me back now, he dies. I think I can stop it." Yes, please wonderful woman, please stop it. Please.

It was like our life was flashing before my eyes; I remembered all of the times that I had seen Bones, all of the times that I could have touched him or sat a little closer or hugged him, and I imagined all of the times I could lose. I could see his smile and hear his drawling Mississippi voice and feel him hugging me and taste the whiskey on his lips, and one strangely, irrationally clear thought drifted through the barrier of fear and pounded itself against my brain: I shouldn't have poured out his whiskey because I was really going to need it in a moment.

"Four… three… two…" I braced myself for the inevitable explosion and even considered being a coward and covering my ears. I didn't.

"SHIT." Then silence.

Kirk leaned forward in his chair, his face still the image of cool detachment but his clenched hands belying his anxiety.

"Jim, you're gonna want to see this." Bones's voice wafted through the comms unit.