Amelia Fairchild
It's a rare occasion that Amelia doesn't wake up in Leonard's bed or with him in hers, but this morning is one of them thanks to a late night with Christine and Nyota. She's just finished leading a yoga session for several crewmen and should really be heading directly up to mess, but… well, she misses him. So, she finds herself returning to deck seven and standing outside the quarters she's almost as familiar with as her own, wincing at the sound of the buzzer.
"Enter. For about five minutes." The doors slide open, and she steps inside, receiving a smile as their eyes meet. "Let me amend that. You can stay as long as you want."
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm just stopping by." She approaches Leonard, hands clasped behind her back.
"And why's that?" He takes a step in her direction.
"I didn't know I had to have a specific reason." They're practically chest to chest now, and she reaches up, standing on tiptoes. His hands come to rest on her waist at the same time she wraps her arms around his neck, and then his lips are on hers, and her head goes fuzzy. It's a languid kiss, not the precursor to more, just a hello. Finally, giving her hip a squeeze, he pulls away.
"Did you have a good night with Chapel and Uhura?"
"It was fun."
"Are you ever going to tell me what you three get up to?"
"It's mostly just talking."
"About?" Nyota's latest crushes, Mr. Spock, and occasionally him. She never says much on that subject, but Christine and Nyota are startlingly accurate in their guesses.
"Nothing terribly important. What did you get up to?"
"I went over a couple of medical reports-"
"Leonard!"
"In my defense, you weren't here to stop me."
"I love you, but you have the worst habits when no one's there to keep you in check."
"I love you too, and isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?" She doesn't get a chance to reply because that's when the comm comes to life.
"Bridge to Dr. McCoy." With a sigh, he steps away and presses the button for the comms.
"McCoy here."
"Doctor, we're receiving an incoming transmission. Would you like it sent to your computer?"
"Give it sixty seconds first, and then I'll be ready to receive." She frowns at that. What could possibly be the hold up?
"Acknowledged. Bridge out." She starts towards the door, only for him to catch her hand, holding her in place.
"You can stay."
"It's probably Joanna." They've been in more contact over the past two months, sending transmissions every few days.
"It is." He nods. "And you can stay." Does he mean… what she's thinking must show on her face because he tells her, "It's about time the two of you met. You ask about each other often enough." It's a big step, one she's certain she's ready for, but she still has to ask.
"Are you sure?"
"Wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't."
"Then I'll stay." He settles into place in front of his computer, and she takes a seat on the sofa, just in view of the screen.
"Computer on."
"Incoming transmission."
"Accept transmission." The screen comes to life, showing… oh. A woman older than twenty. A beautiful, stately woman with jet black hair and piercing dark eyes. Immediately, Amelia shrinks back. She's got a good idea who it is even before, shock evident in his voice, he says,
"Hello, Jocelyn."
"Hello, Leonard." Jocelyn narrows her eyes at the screen. "Who is that with you?" So, she didn't move away quickly enough. Motioning for her to come closer, he announces,
"This is Amelia Fairchild. Amelia, Jocelyn Treadway." She waits a moment for some other sort of explanation for her presence, but none comes, so she offers a 'hello' that sounds weak even to her own ears. Jocelyn doesn't reply, instead giving her a critical look. Clearing her throat, she turns to Leonard and tells him,
"I'll give you some privacy."
"You don't have to go, Amelia."
"Leonard, the girl is obviously uncomfortable. Let her leave." The girl… she certainly feels like one right now. Standing, she starts towards the door. She can feel him watching her go, so she offers a wave as she steps outside. Her plan was to head up to mess with him, but she can go on her own. Or she can wait. Choosing the latter option, she steps into her own quarters and picks up her PADD, intent on getting a head start on the day.
Unfortunately, in her flustered state, one small detail about her quarters has slipped her mind: that the walls are very thin, meaning she can hear everything that goes on next door. Usually, it's convenient. She can hear when he comes in, alerting her to when she can head over. Today, however? It turns her into an inadvertent eavesdropper.
"She's very young, isn't she? The girl who just ran out of here?"
"She is."
"What could you possibly have in common? Or is it a purely physical relationship?" She can feel heat spreading up her neck at that.
"Jocelyn, what do you want?"
"Joanna is going through a bad breakup. You may remember her? Our daughter?"
"The name rings a bell, yes."
"I know she's in contact with you, so I thought you ought to know in case she tries reaching out. The woman she was seeing really hurt her."
"I didn't know Joanna saw women."
"Women, men. She's open to anyone she likes."
"How long were they together?"
"Three months. How long has it been for you and… what's her name again?"
"Her name is Amelia, and I fail to see how that's any of your business." A few seconds pass, and then- "I'll keep what you said about Joanna in mind for when she calls."
"Do that. She's starting to trust you again, and I'd hate to see her hurt any more than she already is."
"That's the last thing I want too."
"Well, I'll let you go. I'm sure you have plans with, um-"
"Amelia."
"Right." They fall silent, and she assumes that the call is over. Her supposition is proved correct when, a minute or so later, there's a buzzing from outside her door.
"Enter." The doors slide open, and Leonard steps inside.
"Sorry about that. It was about Joanna. She's going through a breakup-"
"I overheard. The walls-"
"I know. I can always hear you moving around." He sighs. "Do you have any advice I can give her when she calls?"
"Do you want my advice as a counselor or as a woman who's gone through a bad breakup before?"
"Either. Both."
"Then my advice as a counselor is that she should allow herself time to process. It's important to remember that your worth isn't determined by another person. You can also work to rewrite negative thought patterns about yourself with positive affirmations. It feels silly at first, but it works. And don't isolate. Spend time with people you trust."
"And as a woman?" That's far more complicated. Luckily, she's saved from having to answer by the comm coming to life.
"Kirk to Fairchild." She presses the button.
"Fairchild here. Can I be of assistance, Captain?"
"You can. Is Bones with you?"
"He's here."
"I thought that might be the case. We've picked up a distress call from a private vessel. There's been a fire, and there are several casualties, both injured and dead. I need both of you to report to the transporter room and be ready to do your jobs."
"Yes, Captain."
"Kirk out." Standing, she powers down her PADD and tucks it under her arm.
"Two crises before breakfast." She'd laugh at that if it didn't bring back uncomfortable memories of Jocelyn looking right through her and the words, 'She's very young, isn't she?'
"We should head up."
"After you."
They don't exchange another word on the way to the turbolift, and it's silent for almost the entire ride up. Finally, he turns to her and says,
"I hope Jocelyn didn't frighten you too badly."
"She's…" Extremely beautiful in a way Amelia will never be. Commands a room even from a screen. Knows him so much better than she does. "… an intimidating figure."
"She has that effect on people." The doors slide open, and she steps out, him close behind. Captain Kirk is already in the transporter room, and when he sees them, he offers a tight smile.
"Counselor. Doctor." She nods. "Do you have a lock on them, Scotty?"
"Aye, Captain. Four to beam up."
"Engage." There's the sound of the transporters coming to life, a blur of atoms, and then four men, all worse for wear, appear. One of whom looks familiar.
"I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise." One of the men approaches, limping.
"Thank you for your assistance, Captain. I'm Henry O'Connor. My ship is the Wells Fargo. These are my men. Anderson, Alberts, and Moore." The final man doesn't bother to respond. He's too busy staring at her.
"Feel free to come aboard. These are my senior medical officers. CMO Dr. Leonard McCoy and Counselor Amelia Fairchild."
"She prefers to be called 'doctor'." The final man offers, and Amelia frowns. Kirk turns to her.
"You two know each other I take it?"
"Oh, we do." He nods. "We know each other very well, wouldn't you say, Amelia?" She swallows hard. "Well, aren't you going to say hello?" Meeting his eyes, she tells him,
"Hello, Nicholas."
Leonard McCoy
Leonard is trying very hard to push all unnecessary thoughts to the side as he sets to work on his new patients. It's been an eventful morning between the transmission from Jocelyn and the unexpected arrival of Amelia's ex-boyfriend. Currently the crew of the Wells Fargo is holed up in his sickbay, three in the ICU and one on the biobed. The injuries range from just smoke inhalation to third degree burns. The captain seems to have gotten away with the least severe injuries with Nicholas Moore being the worst of the lot. Currently, he's working on Moore, and Amelia is talking with the other three he's already taken care of.
"It's a nice ship you've got here." Moore (he can't bring himself to refer to the man as Nicholas even in his thoughts) tells him.
"It is."
"Makes sense why Amelia would've put in for a transfer here. She grew up on a botanical vessel, you know." He does know. He also knows that she didn't request the Enterprise. It just fell into her lap. "Say Doc, how much scarring am I going to have?"
"We'll give you something to help the skin regrow, but there might still be some discoloration." Moore groans.
"That's bad news. In my job, looks are currency."
"What job is that?"
"I'm an anthropologist. You might've heard of me. I wrote a book that's become the gold standard for budding anthropologists visiting their first planet." He fails to see how looks have anything to do with anthropology, but instead of pointing out as much, goes with-
"Just be glad it isn't any worse than it is. A few hours more and the medicine would be ineffective." Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Amelia approaching, that perfect professional mask in place.
"Doctor, with your permission, I'd like to ask Dr. Moore a few questions."
"He's stable enough to talk." He moves out of the way, allowing her to take her place by the bed.
"Dr. Moore-"
"So formal, Amelia. Can't you call me Nicholas?"
"Dr. Moore, your captain says that when the fire started you were present."
"That's right."
"Did you witness the death of Mr. Erickson?"
"I did."
"That must've been very difficult. I'm sorry you experienced it."
"I didn't know Erickson very well. I'm not happy that he's dead, but it isn't having a deep impact, so don't you worry your pretty little head about it."
"Be that as it may, you've experienced a trauma-"
"How about you answer some of my questions?" Her shoulders rise and fall with a silent sigh.
"What would you like to know?"
"How about how long this-" Moore indicates the two of them. "-has been going on?" He glances down at Amelia. Her mask hasn't crumbled, and she's not saying a word. "Come on. I know what it looks like when Amelia likes someone. And she likes you, Doc." For a second, he doesn't think she's going to reply, then-
"Just over nine months, but I don't think-"
"That's a long time for a rebound, Amelia."
"Dr. Moore-" This time, Moore is looking at him.
"Has he showed you her art yet?" Amelia crosses her arms.
"Alright, if we're going to talk about our personal lives, how's Patti?" Moore makes a vague motion.
"That was over around the time you ran away from Deep Space Seven. She was seeing someone behind my back."
"That must've been tough." It takes all of his effort not to snicker.
"Not as tough as losing you." Moore gives her an appraising stare. One he recognizes because he's looked at her that way before. Specifically, when he's had her in his bed. "You look good, Amelia. A real sight for sore eyes."
"What were you doing so far away from Deep Space Seven, Dr. Moore?"
"I'm not posted at Deep Space Seven anymore. In fact, I'm not posted anywhere. I left the fleet, like we used to talk about." Amelia wanted to leave Starfleet? That's news to him. "Now I'm in the private sector. It pays well. You should think about giving it a try."
"That's all of the questions I have for you right now, but I'd like for you to stop by my office for a further assessment before you depart again." Moore chuckles and… fantastic… is looking at him.
"She try to play the psychologist card when she wants you to stop talking too?" Reaching for the hypospray, he connects it with Moore's neck.
"This will jumpstart the healing process. You shouldn't have any adverse effects, but I'd like to keep you in sickbay for another hour just to be certain. Counselor, if you'll step into my office-"
"Yes, Doctor." Following his lead, she starts towards the door.
"Make sure to wait a few minutes before you come back out so she can stop blushing. She always turns red after she's been kissed." Amelia stops in her tracks, and Moore is right about one thing. She's turning red. Taking her arm, he leads her towards the door. Once they're inside the confines of his office, he concludes,
"So that's Nicholas."
"Afraid so." He expected the man to be a jackass, but not so painfully full of himself. How the hell did she spend five years with him? Almost as pressing is the question-
"Why didn't you mention he was so-"
"So what?" He might not swing in that direction, but he's human. He couldn't help but notice that Moore is athletically built with blond hair and green eyes. All in all, he looks like one of the male dolls Joanna used to play with. His complete opposite.
"Nothing." Clearing his throat, he tells her, "I should probably let you get back to work."
"We both should." She turns towards the door.
"But before you go-"
"What?"
Catching her hand, he pulls her towards him. It's because he has patients and there's a chance that he won't get to see her tonight he tells himself. Not because of something primal inside of him clawing its way to the surface, the desire to make sure an old partner knows that she's no longer available. That's definitely not what he's thinking as, tangling his fingers in that half-up hair, he kisses her. She lets out a surprised noise, but it's quickly replaced with a soft moan. Her arms encircle him, pulling him even tighter against her than before, and he can feel the erratic beating of her heart. He's familiar with what will leave her breathless. Breathless and looking completely glazed over. By the time he pulls away, the blue of her eyes is almost totally eclipsed by black, her breath is coming far too fast, and her cheeks are flushed. Her hand goes to her hair (which is completely mussed) and he tucks a strand behind her ear.
"What was that?"
"Just a goodbye." Still looking stunned, she walks towards the door and, shooting him a puzzled glance, walks out. Now, to get back to his patients.
"Bridge to Fairchild." Amelia is just about to start preparing for bed (Leonard's working late but he's supposed to stop in later… and hasn't he been acting strange lately?) when the message comes over the comm. Pulling the final pin from her hair, she answers.
"Fairchild here."
"We're receiving an incoming transmission for you." She frowns. Who could that be? She hasn't heard from her father for months and her old friends from Deep Space Six and Seven never contact her.
"Thank you. I'll take it on my computer." She sits down in front of the rarely used device and tries to rearrange her features into something less confused. "Computer on."
"Receiving transmission."
"Accept transmission." She nearly recoils when she sees who it is. That's… unexpected.
"Hello, Amelia." Swallowing hard she greets her.
"Ms. Treadway."
"Come now. You can call me Jocelyn. We're separated by only one degree, after all."
"Jocelyn."
"You're probably wondering why I've contacted you."
"I am." That's her most pressing question, anyway.
"Since Leonard was tight-lipped about this… dalliance between the two of you, I decided to go right to the source."
"I'm not sure how I can help you."
"I want to know what kind of woman might be influencing him, and by extension, Joanna. I don't expect you to understand since you're not a mother, of course, but I'm sure that you can respect my concern." Not really. Joanna's a grown woman. One that she's yet to meet. However, that would be insensitive, so instead she tells her,
"What would you like to know?"
"Let's start with your job. I expect you have a job on the Enterprise besides sleeping with my ex-husband."
"I'm a psychologist." That provokes a chuckle.
"He must be lonelier out there than I thought. And how old are you?"
"I'm thirty-four."
"So there's a nine year age difference?"
"That's correct."
"I had no idea Leonard liked them so young. You do realize that my daughter is only thirteen years younger than you?"
"I do." And she's long since made peace with that.
"Where do you see this… whatever you call what's going on between you… going?" She opens her mouth and then closes it again. Honestly, she sees it as a permanent situation. When she thinks about the future, Leonard is in it. They have their differences, but she doesn't anticipate anything that would make her walk away. Even if she hasn't admitted as much to herself before now, she's committed.
"I'm not sure that I follow." Jocelyn leans towards the screen.
"May I be frank with you, Amelia?"
"You may."
"I don't want my daughter getting attached to a girlfriend of her father's just to have that ripped away a few months later. It would be cruel to her. I'm sure you feel like this situation is permanent, but I very much doubt that. Leonard loves his job more than he can love a person. With that in mind, be careful how you proceed. Take this as friendly advice from one woman to another."
"I'll take it under consideration."
"Do that." She smiles. "I'm glad we had this little chat, Amelia. I can see that you're a reasonably intelligent girl. Just don't let your emotions cloud your judgement."
"I'll do my best not to."
"Alright, then. You can return to what you were doing now. From the looks of things, you were preparing for bed, which must mean Leonard will be coming along soon."
"Goodnight, Ms. Treadway."
"Goodnight, Amelia." The computer screen goes dark, leaving her sitting there with nothing to do but think. Jocelyn Treadway doesn't know a thing about her relationship other than its existence. She didn't give away information and neither did he. That being said, Jocelyn knows Leonard better than most people do. If she believes that this isn't a permanent situation, then there might be some credence to what she says. And there's the matter of Joanna… The door buzzes, bringing her out of her thoughts.
"Enter." He strides in and, upon seeing her, frowns.
"Is something the matter?"
"Why would you think that?"
"You're wearing your therapist mask. The only time that comes out when you're off duty is when you're trying to hide something."
"I just have a lot on my mind."
"Care to talk about it?"
"Not particularly." She pulls open a drawer and removes a set of standard issue pajamas. For some reason, she doesn't want to change in front of him, but it would indicate that something's wrong if she didn't, so she eases the zipper of her uniform down and slides out of it. While she's pulling on her clothes, he changes out of his into the pajamas that he's left in her quarters for nights such as this. Finally, there's nothing left to do but turn off the light and climb into bed.
There's nothing unusual about it. At least when they start out, they're curled up together, her tucked against his chest with an arm slung over her waist, but when he reaches for her, she stiffens involuntarily. She's always found sleeping together to be a far more intimate act that sex, and with Jocelyn's words playing through her mind, she can't relax. He must not notice, because in an already drowsy voice, he tells her,
"Goodnight, Amelia. I love you." 'Leonard loves his job more than he can love a person'. She pushes that memory to the side.
"Goodnight, Leonard. I love you too."
Leonard McCoy
Something is wrong with Amelia. Leonard knows it more certainly than he knows his own name. She's been distant ever since her ex-boyfriend came aboard the Enterprise. When he reaches for her (a little more often and more publicly than he normally would, but that's neither here nor there) she hesitates to respond. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was separating herself before a breakup. But that can't be it. He loves her, so he's certainly not ending things and she loves him so she's not planning on being the one to pull the plug… right?
He's tried asking her about it, but the most he gets out of her is that there's something on her mind and she doesn't want to discuss it. That in and of itself is strange. Usually, she's the one for emotional openness and honesty. He frowns as he thinks about it while getting dressed for the day ahead. He's heard her insisting, on the afternoons when she's conducted couple's counseling, that communication is key. So why is she suddenly not practicing what she preaches? And why is all of this coinciding with the reappearance of an ex?
She's not still attracted to Moore. He's certain of that (well, mostly). The man was unfaithful to her, not to mention that he's so full of himself it's a wonder he has room for any other personality traits. Still, five years is a long time, so there had to be something there. And she was thinking of leaving the fleet with him. Giving his head a shake in an attempt to clear it, he steps out the door to his quarters, only to almost bump into… oh.
Amelia's backed up against her door and Moore has her blocked in. The other man is speaking quietly, so he can barely understand what he's saying.
"…I know we had our issues, but you can't deny that we had a spark, Amelia."
"I'm not denying it. I'm saying that it's snuffed out."
"Why? Because of a mistake I made? You know I self-sabotage. It's my fatal flaw."
"That wasn't self-sabotaging, Nicholas. It was a betrayal of trust."
"Come on. You can't tell me that you don't miss us."
"I can and I am."
"We had five years together, Amelia. They were good. We were going to leave the fleet together, and now you're the perfect little space cadet with your perfect little job and your boyfriend who's, what, fifteen years older than you?"
"My partner is nine years older than me."
"Working on a starship must really age a person, then."
"What's your point, Nicholas?"
"My point is that you need someone in your life who brings out the fire in you. And you definitely had fire in you when we were together." Moore reaches out, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and that's it. He's seen enough.
"Get your hands off of me."
"You used to like my hands on you, or have you forgotten?" Clearing his throat, he approaches.
"I did a full medical examination on you, so I know there's nothing wrong with your hearing." Moore startles, head turning towards Leonard so fast that it's a wonder he doesn't get whiplash. "That leaves your comprehension. 'Get your hands off of me' means don't touch, and the further implication is that it's time to walk away." The other man chuckles derisively, but at least he's let go of Amelia.
"What are you going to do about it if I don't, Doc?" There's not a lot he can do, actually. He's a doctor, not a boxer, and even if he were, Moore has three inches in height and at least thirty pounds in muscle on him. Not to mention the advantage of being younger.
"I don't need Leonard to fight my battles for me, Nicholas. If you don't walk away, then you're going to find yourself curled up on the ground clutching some severely bruised testicles. Now, would you like to test if I mean what I say or are you going to save us both some time and effort?" For a second, he thinks that Amelia's going to have to demonstrate (either that, or he's going to have to dust off his right cross), but ultimately, the other man starts towards the turbolift. Heaving a sigh, Amelia asks him, "Did you want to come in?"
"Aren't you headed to mess?"
"I think I just lost my appetite." That seems to be going around. Nodding, he follows her through the doors into the confines of her quarters.
"Amelia…" What can he say? "…are you alright?"
"I'm fine. He didn't hurt me."
"No, but something has. Or at least, something's bothering you." He takes a step towards her. "You're distant. I try to talk to you about it, and you give me some excuse about not wanting to discuss it right now. Even when we're in the same bed together, it's like you're a world away."
"Don't act like I'm the only one who's preoccupied."
"What do you mean-"
"Leonard, I can't walk ten feet without running into you. You're around every corner." Okay, so maybe he has been hovering a bit, but it's a good thing he was, considering the events of this morning. "And you're physically demonstrative. In public."
"So I can't touch you now?"
"Not when I'm at work. You know that. You can't just call me into your office and kiss me."
"You didn't seem to mind-"
"Minding has nothing to do with it. I'm trying to be professional. I've done the workplace romance thing before, and it got me chased off a space station, so I made up my mind to never do it again."
"Then why-"
"Because apparently, when it comes to my rules, you're the only exception!" She chuckles wearily. "Don't you know that by now? You're the only person who's ever burrowed under my skin on the job. The only person who I trust with the most personal things about me. The only person-" Amelia stops short, gaze falling from his face to the floor.
"The only person what, Amelia?"
"The only person that, when I imagine my future, I see myself beside." She's still studying her feet. Reaching out, he takes her hand. She stiffens but doesn't pull away.
"Amelia…" How does he handle this? "Darling, that's what I see too." He meant it when he said that he'd tell her that he loves her every day for as long as she'll allow it. He tries not to spend too much time looking into the future, but when he does, it's with a redheaded psychologist sharing his home and his bed.
"Please, don't say things you can't mean."
"Why can't I mean it?" She sighs.
"I had a talk with Jocelyn-"
"When?"
"She sent a video transmission two days ago."
"Amelia, what did she say to you?" How much damage control does he need to do? She opens her mouth, but then snaps it shut again.
"It's not important."
"The hell it's not."
"Forget it, Leonard."
"No. We're not doing this. With Jocelyn-" She looks up sharply.
"I'm not Jocelyn!"
"Thank God for that!" And now, he's nearly shouting at her. Lowering his voice, he tries again. "Thank God for that, Amelia, because with Jocelyn, everything just got swept over the rug in the name of being comfortable. In fact, we got so comfortable that for years before it ended, we were just roommates. You've never let me be complacent about myself and my problems, and clearly, we're having a problem here." Finally, those blue eyes peer into his. Those blue eyes that are glossy with unshed tears.
"Leonard, what if we fall apart?" He considers it before answering. What if things do come unraveled with Amelia? They've already established that what they want in the future is each other, so that only leaves one real option.
"Then we pick up the pieces and work together to put them back in place. Maybe even build something stronger." A tear spills over, and he brushes it away with his thumb. "Is that what this is about?"
"Partly."
"Then what's the rest of it?" Seconds tick by. She's not saying anything. "Amelia?"
"God. It's stupid. I just felt so inadequate next to her." He opens his mouth to tell her that's a common occurrence (one he spent almost ten years of his life dealing with), but before he can say anything, she tells him, "She's beautiful and obviously accomplished. A force of nature. I could tell that even through a screen. And she holds so much of your past." He can't deny it. All of those things are true. But just as equally true-
"You're the one who holds the future." It's in the palm of her hand. Somehow, he thinks it has been ever since he met her. The thought's terrifying, but in a way, freeing. So, this is what he was running towards for all those years. Still- "I'm the one who's inadequate here."
"Why do you think-"
"Because I've had three days to study the man you dated for five years. He's the perfect textbook example of the human male in his prime and he obviously wants you back. He's a young up-and-comer in his field. I'm just an ornery bastard with a medical tricorder."
"You're not-" He narrows his eyes at her. "-alright, you are, but you're the ornery bastard that I want." Giving his hand a squeeze, Amelia tells him, "I love you, and I know you love me. With Nicholas, I never knew where I stood. I always had to guess if he cared. You don't make me guess. Even before you said it, you showed it. And you keep showing it." She laughs quietly. "I couldn't be happier that you're not him."
Time passes as the words sink in. By some miracle, he's what she wants. Not someone younger or more promising. And he can't recall ever wanting anyone more than he does her. Finally, he has to say something.
"What do you say, Amelia? Can we put the past three days behind us?"
"No." She offers him a smile. "But I think we can learn from them and not repeat them."
"Spoken like a counselor." Her forehead wrinkles at that.
"Leonard, what time is it?" He glances around, eyes landing on her PADD. The screen has gone dark, but as he swipes his fingertip against it, the readout comes to life.
"Zero eight hundred-" Muttering a profanity, she takes off towards the door, leaving him to follow.
"We're late."
"Slow down. We're not that late."
"Leonard, I've known you for a year and a half and nothing's ever made you late for work before. Nothing."
"Yeah, well-" They enter sickbay and she walks hurriedly towards her office. "-you're the only exception."
Amelia Fairchild
"What are you writing?" The words are punctuated by the brush of lips against her bare shoulder. Amelia looks up from the PADD in front of her and offers Leonard a smile.
"I didn't know you were still awake."
"Well, my partner apparently has an aversion to sleep even though I was almost certain I tired her out earlier…"
"It's just a list. I meant to write it days ago, but with everything that happened, I'm just now getting around to it."
"What kind of a list?" She rolls over to face him.
"It's a short one. Five items. You asked me before if I had any advice for Joanna as a woman who's gone through a bad breakup. It turns out that I do."
"And what's your advice?"
"I'm glad you asked." She touches the screen, lighting it up from where it had gone dark. "The first item is to stock up on comfort food while you're mourning. It might not be nourishing to the body, but it's nourishing to the psyche."
"What about item number two?"
"Take a shower. She's probably forgotten about that, and although it might be hard to work up the motivation, she'll feel better about herself afterwards."
"Plus, her roommates will appreciate it."
"Exactly. Item number three is to talk to someone that she trusts. Loneliness is a liar."
"'Loneliness is a liar'. I think I'm borrowing that one to use on my patients."
"You can keep it. I've got more."
"On this list?"
"Yes, if you'll just be patient." She scrolls down. "Number four is to decide what she does and doesn't want when she tries again. That will save her a lot of grief in the long run."
"And what's number five?"
"To try again. Sometimes the greatest love you've ever experienced follows the greatest mistake you've ever made."
"You were right. You do have more."
"I thought it was good."
"Since you're offering advice, are you open to taking some?"
"I am." Reaching out, he takes the PADD from her hands and places it on the cabinet behind the bed.
"Go to sleep, Darling."
"That's your advice?"
"That's my advice."
"Then I suppose I should listen." For the first time since the incident with Jocelyn, she allows her body to give into its natural urges and relax as he pulls her into place next to him.
"Goodnight, Amelia."
"Goodnight, Leonard." As she drifts off, it's with a contented smile on her face. The future can look any number of ways, but one thing is certain: she's right where she belongs.