A/N: The line of lyrics that appears is from Hinder's "Get Stoned."

Chapter 6

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Bones tried to ignore the sounds coming from one of the Enterprise's many science labs, but it was such a wailing noise he couldn't help but wonder if someone was being murdered. There were no sounds of a struggle. No one came running out of the room screaming and covered in blood, but obviously someone was skinning a cat in there. A masochist, that's what he was when he approached the door to find out just what was going on inside. No, he'd been a masochist to stay married to the ex for so long. Getting closer to the grating sound was just plain stupidity.

"Let's go home and get stoned. We could end up making love instead of misery. Go home and get stoned, 'cause the sex is so much better when you're mad at me!"

Oh God, was that singing? Yowling was a better word for it. Combine every karaoke singer he'd heard during the four months he'd spent haunting bars after his divorce and Chekov playing the latest version of Rock Band and that summed up the sounds currently responsible for making his ears scream in protest. From the sound of it, the singer was female. She should be put out of her misery, which would in turn put everyone within a one mile radius out of their misery. Either he was going to adhere her mouth shut or remove her vocal cords until she signed a contract never to sing outside of her shower ever again.

Rational thought was beamed off-planet after the door swished open to allow him to step inside. Five foot eight inches of Ritha Monroe were bent over an android body in a uniform skirt and a white tank top. If he craned his neck hard enough he might catch a glimpse of panties. Good God, what was he doing?! He was thinking about stealing her bones again, that's what he was doing.

Considering all the blood in his head had rushed south, it took him a minute to connect the dots, that Ritha was the one doing the caterwauling, and that the poor thing couldn't sing worth a damn. There was a minor argument between his southern region and his ears as to which was more important, because getting her to stop singing would make her stand up and ruin the fine view he had. The decision was taken from him when she abruptly stood and started speaking into her handheld.

"Scotty, I can't wait until you're on your feet. You've got to see this. This technology is so far beyond what we've studied. We're talking nanotechnology here!"

"Just as soon as I can charm Westin into signing my release forms, I'll be sure to pop by to see what you've got on your hands, Lass. You said they're exterior is indistinguishable from Istabulians? That's pretty impressive."

"We have androids on Earth, but they're nothing like this. We're talking artificial muscle and ligaments that look and function exactly like in an organic life form. The interior is filled with some kind of fluid that's swimming with microscopic nanochips."

"You know, all my favorite engineers bring me samples to look at while I'm laid up," Scotty crooned. "You're one of my absolute favorites."

"Uh huh, and Davis will be your absolute favorite next week. The week after, it'll be Schweizer. You're so full of it."

"But you love me anyway."

"But I love you any…" Her comment ended in a soft shout when she turned in Bones' direction.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I heard someone rattling around in here and thought I'd see who it was at this hour," Bones said by way of an apology for startling her. He really should have announced his presence rather than standing there watching her like a love-struck git.

"Bones, don't you go giving my engineers heart attacks, especially when I'm charming 'em into bringing me samples to keep me from losing my ever-loving mind in this Sickbay."

"God, Babe, don't sneak up on people like that." The hand plastered to her heart dropped back down to her side.

"Babe?" Scotty and Bones said simultaneously.

Ritha rolled her eyes and commented, "So bring me up on sexual harassment charges. I'll stop by in the morning with some of the samples, Scotty. Don't give Westin too much trouble."

"Me? Cause trouble? You've got me mistaken for the captain. Be nice to my girl, Bones. You run her off, and I'll run you over."

"I think I can take care of myself, Scotty. Ritha out." A flick of her finger ended the connection, at which point she offered up one of her mind-melting smiles.

"What are you doing up this late studying that thing? It's not like it couldn't wait until tomorrow."

"Are you kidding me? A piece of advanced technology is in my hands, and you expect me not to be too excited to sleep? There's no way I could have slept until I came down here and had a peek. The captain has given me permission to perform the initial studies as long as I record all my findings and don't damage the body until Commander Spock has a chance to look at it."

Could he help it if his glance dropped from her face once or twice? He wasn't such a pervert he didn't comprehend what she said. "I get that way when there's a new diagnosis to make. Have you at least eaten since returning to the ship?"

"Duh. Advanced alien technology at my fingertips? Who's got time for food?" She rubbed her hands together, an action accompanied by a rather euphoric expression.

"Now that you've satisfied some of your curiosity, do you want to hit the mess hall with me? I owe you a dinner for having you in my office."

"Hey, I'd forgotten about that, but you're right. You do owe me dinner."

"You, uh, might want to put on a jacket first. There's always someone in the mess hall no matter what time it is." He glanced pointedly at her chest so she couldn't mistake why he was recommending a jacket.

A blonde brow arched when she followed his glance, a bit of a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. Rather than commenting on it, she grabbed a uniform jacket that was draped over a chair and tugged it on to fasten it closed over her breasts. "Better?"

"Depends on what body part you're asking," he muttered.

There was enough southern gentleman left in him that he offered her his arm to escort her to the mess hall. A few people were inside at such a late hour, but the place was quiet and the lighting muted in a way that made it feel intimate. Digital menus at each table flashed messages that the kitchen was closed, meaning they would have to get their own meal from the replicators. Replicator food was decent. Nothing beat a home-cooked meal, though, and they had one of the best catering staffs in Starfleet. Neither spoke until they were seated at a table near the exit with their plates.

"So why did you get a divorce?"

The blunt question almost made him choke on a bite of his spinach ravioli. "You sure don't believe in breaking the ice first, do you."

"Not really. Life's too short to worry about offending people, but if you don't want to answer the question, I won't twist your arm."

"I like bluntness unless I'm dealing with Spock or Jim. Why did I end up divorced? Complex question. Jocelyn and me married young. I was right out of medical school and starting my internship when we met, and we were married six months after that. You now how it goes. Late nights, early mornings, and we barely got to see each other. She complained about being left home alone with Joanna constantly while I worked. So when we did have time together, it was spent arguing."

"Joanna is…" She let it trail off so he could fill in the blank.

"Our daughter. She's five next April."

"You have a kid? I wouldn't have pegged you as the father type."

"I'm not. Jocelyn got everything in the divorce, including custody. Every time I try to see Joanna, they're conveniently out of town."

"Well that's horseshit. You're a Starfleet celebrity for God's sake. Surely you can use that to your advantage and pressure her into sticking with the visitation rights. What we need is a PR campaign. Let's drag her name through the mud and ruin her in polite society. That'll start a fire under her butt."

"Yeah, maybe. Or maybe Joanna's better off without me in her life. I'm not exactly the huggable kind of person."

"Neither is my dad, but I couldn't imagine life without him. A girl wants her father whether he plays with dolls with her or is grumpy. Do you want to run the risk of waking up ten years from now and regretting not having a relationship with her?"

"I don't know. It's all screwed up."

"Then let's unscrew it."

He nodded while pushing his food around on the plate. The least he could do was force the custody issue so his parents could see their granddaughter. They deserved that, and then he could sort out whether or not his paternal feelings were best in or out of Joanna's life.

"What about you?" he finally asked. "Got any kids or exes hiding in the closet?"

"I can't have kids. This guy I'd been dating for about a year turned out to be a real douche. He ended up giving me Chlamydia which turned into pelvic inflammatory disease. I got pregnant a while later and ended up having an ectopic pregnancy that had to be aborted. Doctors say I have a extremely high risk of having another ectopic pregnancy because of the damage to my fallopian tubes."

The way she said it so matter-of-factly just made him feel for her all the more. He settled a hand over hers. "I can't guarantee there's anything I can do to fix it, but if you want, I'll run some tests and look into it for you."

"I've gotten used to the idea over the years. It's having the choice taken away that hurts the most, you know. Anyhow, if I ever decide to retire and want kids, I can adopt. There are hundreds of thousands of kids in the universe who need good families."

"A lot of people have probably suggested a lot of different coping mechanisms, probably given you the whole 'I'm sorry' speech too, but I'm not going to. If you want kids, it sucks, but you don't need kids to be fulfilled as a woman. Your identity is not based on your reproductive capabilities."

A small smile played on her lips before she said, "You're the second person who's said that, but to be fair, the first person was my neo-feminist roommate at MIT who thought we should develop artificial wombs and then kill off all men."

"Gotta love extremism. Is the douche of an ex still alive?"

"As far as I know. My dad came to the hospital while they were pumping me full of antibiotics and told me he'd taken care of him. All he said was that Cecil was still alive but wouldn't ever bother me again."

"Your dad sounds like a good guy. What happened with him and your mom?"

"He was a workaholic. She was a socialite. She divorced him because she wasn't getting enough emotional satisfaction. In reality it was more like 'I found a new guy who has more money and a bigger title.' Now she's married to Admiral Westin and loves nothing more than trying to marry her daughters off to some prestigious family."

The statement wasn't what made him laugh, it was the unnecessary crude gestures punctuating her comment. "She should have seen you earlier today with all the blue gunk in your hair. If you ever do get married, I dare you to walk down the aisle covered in engineering grease."

"And nothing but engineering grease?" She winked at him.

It had been a long time since Bones had met someone who could totally make him lose track of time. She was so animated and expressive when she talked that it was kind of hypnotic watching her. She was always gesticulating or leaning closer to him as though terribly interested in what he had to say. Then there was her laughter. There was none of the feminine twittering, coyness, or attempts at laughing in a ladylike manner, which had been Jocelyn's big thing. Ritha's laugh was genuine, even in response to his bad jokes.

Here was a woman who made him feel attractive in a way he hadn't felt since he'd first met Jocelyn and not just because she stroked his male ego. In certain ways, she made him feel like a man again rather than just a doctor, a divorcee, or the guy everyone said "man, how can you tolerate being Jim's roommate" to. He had a shift in the morning but suddenly didn't give a damn that he was thirty-one and couldn't pull all-nighters the way he had in medical school and the Academy. Giving a damn meant he'd have to go bed, and that meant he would have to give up her company.

The chiming of her handheld communicator and data organizer suddenly interrupted a story she was telling about having climbed a flagpole without underwear. "My God, is it really that time? My shift starts in twenty minutes. I need to get back to my quarters, grab a shower, and get ready."

Disappointment put a damper on what had otherwise been a great night. He stood up and deposited their empty plates into the nearby recycler so the molecules could be broken down and reformed into sanitized dishes. Asking to accompany her back to her quarters was on the tip of his tongue when he realized how sappy that would sound. She was a Starfleet officer. She didn't need him to escort her around the ship.

The decision was taken out of his hands when she asked, "You wanna walk me back to my room? Someone needs to protect me from the raging ball of hormone that is an eighteen year old Chekov."

And he was laughing again while offering her his arm. "I think Chekov can control himself. It's the captain you need to be worried about." Total sap oozed from him when she curled her arm through his, but the sap couldn't account for his racing pulse.

"I'm not worried about Jim. He's sniffing after my sister. You should probably know ahead of time that if he hurts her, they're going to have to court martial me."

The halls were just starting to fill up with people ready to start their day, so Bones waited until after he'd guided her onto a nearby lift to respond. "Jim takes his responsibilities to this crew seriously. As far as I know, he hasn't had any dalliances with members of the crew before, so he's not going to hurt her. You and Stella really need to talk, though. You're sisters for the love of God. Whatever bullshit your parents like to spew doesn't have to carry on between you two."

"I know," she said. "We're going to work on our relationship, but I can't guarantee things will change overnight."

Bones was willing to leave it at that since the lift doors were opening. A knot of people waited outside to squeeze aboard, so he hurried his companion out of the lift and down a hall that was lined on either side by standard gray doors. The deck was made up mostly of quarters reserved for ensigns. Apparently Starfleet thought ensigns were sardines to cram so many into a relatively small space. Their quarters were tiny, consisting of a room with a small bed, the standard table and chairs, a small closet, and a lavatory facilities. His quarters looked like the Taj Mahal in comparison.

"This is it," Ritha said when she stopped in front of a door marked as two thirty-nine. Her hands busied themselves fiddling with the hem of her jacket.

Wasn't it supposed to mean something when a woman fiddled after being escorted to her door? For the life of him, he couldn't remember, so Bones offered a smile. "Don't work too hard. You don't want to prolong your ribs from healing by overdoing it."

The ensign's sigh sounded almost disappointed, but her tone was normal when she said, "You too, Bones."

He was left standing in the hall when she pressed her thumb against the pad to gain access feeling as though he'd just made some colossal mistake. Bones turned on his heel. In fact, he was a handful of steps down the hall when it dawned on him what her fiddling had meant. She'd been waiting for him to kiss her as though the past several hours really had been a date in her mind rather than just dinner with a co-worker or friend. You stupid idiot, he said to himself. Feelings he hadn't known were left after his nasty divorce got all mixed up inside like someone had tossed him in a blender.

Turning on his heel, Bones marched right back to Ritha's quarters and pressed the chime. This could be the stupidest idea he'd ever come up with, but not going back to her room was something he might regret the rest of his life. If she was already in the shower, he'd hot-foot back to Sickbay where he belonged. Then door swished open. She was standing there in the doorway looking at him with a curious expression.

"You forget something?" she asked.

"Shut up," he returned without really thinking about what he was saying.

A step took him inside and allowed the door to close behind him. Before she could say another word, Bones cupped the nape of her neck and lowered his lips to hers. Jim could have called a red alert and he might not have noticed, although he'd liked to think he would have. Her lips were smooth, her mouth yielding. The hand she fisted on his shirt was tight in one of those unspoken signals that she just might rob him of his dignity if he tried to pull away.

There was no reason for her to worry on that account, because pulling away was the farthest thing from his mind. Deepening the kiss, on the other hand, was much more pressing. Was it a world-shattering kiss? As far as his crotch was concerned, yeah. Did it make him want to get naked with her? Duh, he was a man with a willing woman pressed up against him. Did he have any intention of letting it go that far? Of course not. He was a little fuzzy on just what she was expecting from him. A relationship wasn't something he was sure he was ready for.

Groaning, Bones dipped his tongue into the bliss that was her mouth once more before breaking the kiss. He rested his forehead against hers while both struggled to take in a proper breath and ease the sudden pounding of their hearts. Great! A cold shower was just what he needed to start the day. He could hear Montgomery's Scottish brogue in his head. That'll wake ye up in the mornin'!

Ritha was the first one who stirred. "I can't think of a better excuse for being late. Technically, I'm the acting CO of engineering at the moment, so I guess that means I could show up whenever I want."

"I've got patients waiting," he muttered.

"And I guess they can't wait for you to drag yourself into Sickbay whenever you want."

Something about the way she said it made sirens go off in his head. She didn't care that they hadn't talked about where they stood on relationships. No questions about whether or not they even should get involved? Or maybe it was just instinctive fear at how much he enjoyed her company. Whatever the reason, Bones snapped before he could figure out just what he was feeling.

"So what? You're just going to jump into bed with me and to Hell with the consequences?" Even he could admit his tone was a little on the condescending side.

"God, you make it sound like I'm a slut or something."

Figuring out how to say what he wanted to say, how to tell her he was a little on the old-fashioned side and didn't want to get involved unless both of them understood just how far they were each willing to take things must have taken longer than she expected.

She filled in the blanks herself and far too quickly. "Well fine, if that's the way you feel about me, don't let your big head get squashed in the door on the way out, Babe."

The urge to call her back when she turned and disappeared into the bathroom almost overpowered him. Everything was wrong. But the biggest culprit in this whole unexpected mess was his own head. Ritha was dangerous. She was the kind of woman he could quickly become infatuated with, and Bones didn't like the idea of sticking his hand in a bear trap again. Why bother anyway? All women were fundamentally the same. They all wanted to be the center of a man's universe. He had way too much cluttering up the center of his universe for some whiney creature to come in and do some spring cleaning just his world would revolve around her and her alone.

He left quietly, perplexed, perturbed, and itching to get into another one of his rows with Spock.