Twenty Five

"Good evening, Lieutenant."

Victoria rolled her eyes. "Hi, Uhura. Are you my first babysitter?"

"The captain left strict instructions that contact should be maintained at all times," said Uhura. Something in her tone told Victoria she had given Jim his own set of strict instructions as well. "Looks like you and I are on-duty for the next sixteen hours."

"Well, better you than –"

"Spock to Woodville."

Victoria scowled. "Woodville here. He's made you stay too?"

"Naturally, the captain expects his chief science officer to be on deck while we pilot through the storm," replied Spock. "I would have thought that was obvious."

"Lucky me," muttered Victoria to herself. Ignoring Uhura's giggle, she strapped into her seat just as her intercom buzzed. Groaning, she muted the main line of communication with the bridge and tapped her shoulder 'comm. "I swear to the gods, Jim Kirk, if you assign me one more babysitter, I will –"

"I ain't Jim," said McCoy's voice dryly. "But since I'm basically your third babysitter, you can go on with your threat."

Victoria sighed. "Damn it, McCoy. Couldn't you talk him out of it?"

McCoy chuckled. "Not really. Can't hurt to be too careful."

"Please, tell me you don't agree with him."

"I think you can handle yourself on a foreign, never-before-seen planet just fine, darlin'. Stuck in an ion pod with no escape and your life in the hands of a ticking clock and Spock, on the other hand…"

"And what does Jim expect you to do?" she demanded.

"I'm the on-call physician, this is standard protocol. I'll just be chimin' in every now and then, make sure you ain't dyin' of boredom."

Victoria snorted. "That's the most obvious outcome, at this point."

"Good to know. I have paperwork to do and a whole lot of hyposprays to administer thanks to some freak engineering accident from last night, so I'll talk to you later."

"Sure, thanks," Victoria switched off the intercom and tuned back into the main line with the bridge. Uhura and Spock were talking to each other, going over calculations and signal-checks for the approaching storm, and Victoria allowed her mind to drift as she settled in and waited for her signal to begin working.

It had taken two extra simulations, at least three drinks, and lots of wheedling on Victoria's part to get Jim to agree to let her do this without a fight. Of course, McCoy had been a big help: Jim's energy was endless, and he could argue for hours without a real basis, often winning by sheer virtue of the fact that he was annoying. He had gotten away with it for years with Victoria, who had always had a million other things to worry about beyond Jim brushing his teeth or washing his hands before dinner as a child. Now, however, neither of them had that excuse, which was why McCoy's sharp, but level-headed interjections were useful when it came to them deciding what to do. Eventually, Jim had agreed that Victoria could continue with her job, even going so far as to promise he would treat her like any other member of his crew. Except, of course, they all knew he wouldn't.

"Lieutenant, we are ready for you," Spock's voice broke into her thoughts, and Victoria blinked rapidly to refocus her mind. "If you could initiate your personal key sequence on my count."

Victoria flipped open the control panel by her right hand, fingers poised over the keypad. "Ready, sir."

"Three, two, one…" she entered the five-digit sequence quickly, and the chime from her small earpiece told her it had worked. "Moving on to data collection, lieutenant," continued Spock. "The task is fairly straightforward, but I will reiterate regulations for the record. Read the instructions sent to your PADD and mark the necessary fields as you go, adding any anomalies you see along with using your calculations to deduce the damage levels that may be inflicted upon the ship, preferably with troubleshooting methods at the ready. We would ideally aim to have you out of the ion pod before we eject, which is in twenty-six hours and fourteen minutes. In situations where you have not exited the pod before ejection, we will cut all connection with the pod to avoid compromising the safety of the ship, and you will be left to roam in space until such a time when your oxygen levels run out, which is thirty-eight hours after the fact. In such a situation, there is a nine-eight point six per cent chance of your death. Do you understand the risks, lieutenant?"

Victoria rolled her eyes. "Aye, sir. Any chance my last conversation in such a situation could be with someone other than you?"

"Noted, Lieutenant," said Spock, without missing a beat. Victoria almost smiled. "I will leave you now in Lieutenant Uhura's hands. Dr. McCoy is on-call should you have a medical emergency, and Captain Kirk has asked to be kept informed of your progress. Ensign Chekov is our resident pilot should the ship need steering. I will see you for a full debrief in twenty-four hours and twelve minutes."

"Aye, sir," said Victoria, sticking out her tongue childishly at the screen-less speaker that had been emitting Spock's voice. A soft click told her the commander had gone offline.

"Right," Uhura's amused voice came through the speaker next. "Give me a shout if you need anything, Tori. If you decide to get some sleep at any point, make sure you inform whoever is on the bridge in case something goes wrong."

"Got it. I'll be in touch," Victoria switched off the intercom and unbuckled her seat, carefully making her way across the small expanse of floor towards a viewing-screen. The ion pod was unsteady, the materials of the walls that separated her from nothingness barely thicker than aluminium foil, and she tried not to think about it as she gazed out at the stars. A few years ago the sight of deep space would have thrown her into a panic, and though she sometimes still suffered from night terrors, each day on the Enterprise was another day where she fell in love with the mission and mandate of Starfleet just a little more.

Her 'comm beeped, interrupting her thoughts, and she tapped her shoulder absently. "Woodville."

"You alright?" it was McCoy's gruff voice, and it made her smile.

"Yes, perfectly fine," she replied. "How's the engineering accident?"

"You think if I kill Scotty while we're on this mission I'd get court-martialled?"

Victoria snorted. "With fantasies like that, I wonder why you chose to practice medicine."

"Trust me, I question my decisions every day," grumbled McCoy. "I'm only callin' to remind you your next set of hyposprays are due in forty-eight hours, so if you're thinkin' of dyin' out there –"

Victoria laughed. "Were you listening to my conversation with Spock?" she asked. "Trust me, I have no plans of dying. This isn't how I go."

"Tellin' me you've thought about goin' doesn't help your case, darlin'," said McCoy. "And yeah, I was listenin'. Just makin' sure he's bein' nice."

"Spock is never nice."

"Well, civil, then," said McCoy, sounding annoyed. It only made her smile wider.

"So, you're telling me you've never thought about it?" asked Victoria.

"What?"

"Dying."

"Jesus, is this really what you wanna talk about?" demanded McCoy. "I ain't hangin' around for some kind of morbid, existential crisis."

Victoria rolled her eyes. "Just a question, calm down. Did you call to say something?"

"Yeah, don't die," he snapped. "McCoy out."

Victoria shut the 'comm off and stared at the view-screen in bemusement for a few seconds before shaking off McCoy's words and returning to her station. Data collection was the least fun part about being on duty in an ion pod: she remembered in the academy it had been perceived as a bit of a glamorous job, since they'd only ever been taught what to do if anything went wrong. Most of the time, however, nothing went wrong, which meant that people often tried to swap rotations due to the mind-numbing boredom that resulted from them.

The next ten hours flew by, with periodical check-ins from Uhura and Spock. McCoy didn't call her again, and it was ages before Victoria wondered if he was actually mad at her, instead of just annoyed at an engineering accident. That thought made her frown: McCoy was handsome, smart, great with kids – his own, anyway – and he seemed to like her too. On the surface, he was exactly the kind of guy she'd be interested in, a fact even Jim Kirk seemed to pick up on. But the man was such a big grouch that it threw her off every time. It wasn't like she was looking for anything romantic, of course, but if she had been, and she'd even thought of pursuing him, his attitude would have put her off immediately.

And yet here she was, halfway through the tasks assigned to her with over twelve hours to spare and her finger hovering over the button that would reactivate her 'comm. She knew she was due for a break, so once the small replicator in the corner of the pod produced a mediocre mug of coffee suited to her taste, she informed Uhura of her progress before enabling her 'comm again. "Woodville to McCoy."

"McCoy here," his voice was much less gruffer than it had been the last time they had spoken.

"This coffee is atrocious," said Victoria, taking a sip and grimacing. "Or do I just think so because you've been bringing me nice coffee for a week?"

"A bit of both, I think," said McCoy in his customary dry tone. "You dead yet?"

"No autopsies for you to perform today, I'm afraid," said Victoria, taking another sip. "This is honestly really boring, I'm taking a break because I could finish all this in half the time they've given me."

"Trust me, you'd rather be up there in solitary than in here," said McCoy. "Turns out that freak engineering accident wasn't all Scotty's fault."

Victoria frowned. "Well, who else could – oh, no way."

"Every day he's on this ship is like a kid in a candy-store," complained McCoy. "I don't think he'd have even told me whatever little experiment he was up to if someone hadn't gotten injured."

"How bad was the injury?"

"Doesn't matter how bad it was, Jim should'a known better!"

"He's a great captain," offered Victoria. "I'm sure he had a good –"

"He told me he was bored."

"Well, half the time when he says that he actually means –"

"You ain't gotta defend him, darlin', I haven't kicked his ass, I promise," interrupted McCoy. He sounded like he was smiling. "Maybe you should hurry up and head back, though. He's just distractin' himself because he's worried about you."

"He hasn't called me even once."

"You'd yell at him if he did. And he can't exactly show more interest in you than he would any other crew member."

Victoria scowled. "If this friendship goes on, you can't be right all the time, you know. Women don't like that."

McCoy laughed. "I have a pretty good idea of what women like and don't like, don't you worry."

"Don't I know it," muttered Victoria. She glanced at the large timer situated above her workstation and groaned. "Ugh, Spock is going to yell at me for taking such a long break. I'll see you when I get out of here, yeah?"

"I'll save you some coffee."

"You're the best. Woodville out."

!

"Jim, she's been on duty for twenty-four hours straight," said McCoy tiredly. "Hell, so have I. Can't this wait?"

"I just want to make sure Spock didn't give her a hard time," said Jim defensively. "And you're telling me you don't want to see her?"

McCoy narrowed his eyes. "That ain't cute, Jim."

"I'm just saying," Jim smirked as the turbo-lift stopped at the officers' quarters. Victoria's room was at the end of the hall, and he grabbed McCoy's arm before they could continue walking. "If you ever need a wingman, Bones…"

McCoy didn't answer, which made Jim laugh. The blonde captain patted his friend on the shoulder and continued on towards Victoria's door, not noticing the other man's worried look as he followed after him. Jim knocked on the steel doors loudly and, when there was no answer, moved to input a code into the keypad.

"What're you doin'?" asked McCoy sharply.

"Going in," Jim shrugged. "Tori won't care."

"Jim, she's probably asleep."

"Her meeting with Spock was barely an hour ago, Bones."

"You can't just walk into her room! How d'you know her code anyway?"

"I'm the captain!"

"That ain't a good enough excuse!"

"Just let me –" Jim's retort was interrupted by the doors sliding open. They both looked up to see Victoria leaning against the doorframe heavily, her hair mussed up and her eyes barely open. She was dressed in an over-sized, fuzzy robe and pulled it tighter around her as the cold air came in.

"I'm surprised it took you this long," she yawned. Without comment, she walked back into the room, and Jim seemed to consider the open door as an invitation to follow. McCoy rolled his eyes and entered as well, closing the door behind him and giving the other two a disapproving look.

"I told him to let you sleep," he said.

Victoria shook her head. "That's sweet of you, but I knew he'd show up. I wasn't actually asleep, I'm just tired. And I was bored," stifling another yawn, she waved them towards the sofa and sank down into the only other seat, an armchair with a colourful afghan thrown over it that definitely had not been there when McCoy had last visited.

"So, how was the mission?" ignoring everything, Jim sat down on the couch and turned to give Victoria his full attention.

Victoria sighed. "I sent you the report."

"I want to hear you say it."

"I just told you how bored I was!" Victoria rolled her eyes. "Honestly, it went off without a hitch. I collected data, Spock analysed it, and Hikaru said we're good to pilot through the storm with minimal disruption to ship life. Worst case scenario, someone gets a bad case of space-sickness. Best case scenario, I get a raise for doing absolutely nothing out of the ordinary."

Jim nodded, looking appeased. "Good work. I knew you could do it."

"I'm flattered," Victoria sighed. "Now, if I promise to see you as soon as I wake up, will you leave?"

"Fine," easily appeased, Jim jumped up and headed for the door. "Bones, you coming?"

"Actually, could you stay for a second?" asked Victoria. Both men turned to look at her oddly, and she sighed again. "Not you, Jim. Dr. McCoy, please?"

Jim smirked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively as he backed out of the room. Victoria ignored him and got up, trudging towards an open suitcase in the corner that was still not unpacked. McCoy kept sitting until she came back into his line of sight, carrying a small metal disc.

"As promised," she said, offering it to him. "My real, unredacted medical file."

McCoy took it slowly. It was small enough to fit into the palm of his hand, with no discerning marks on it. "Haven't seen one of these in a while."

"It's easier to destroy information if it isn't in a system," said Victoria. "It'll wipe itself clean when you're done with it."

He nodded, pocketing the disc carefully. "I'll let you get some rest now."

"Thanks," Victoria smiled and gestured for him to walk ahead of her. "You should probably rest up too. The ion storm might not be pretty."

"I'll try," the door opened and McCoy stepped out, but hovered in the doorway. "Anything I should know before I see this?" he tapped his pocket meaningfully.

Victoria looked up at him, her unnaturally dark eyes clouding over. "I suppose so, yes," she said slowly. "You should know… it wasn't my idea."

McCoy blinked. "That it?"

"Yes," she smiled, a little sadly, and waved him out. "Good night."

Hello readers, old and new! Apologies for any missed review replies, and for how long it's taken me to update - this story is kind of like my guilty pleasure, and I tend to flit away from it when my other writing is going well, but I've had a flash of inspiration recently and will be much more active in 2020, so stay tuned!