A fresh morning arrives, and she awakes with her body now much better rested. She is spritely, eager to take on any task that may await her, with all the energy of one who had a very rewarding sleep. All her morning rituals and ablutions are completed with a newfound vigour, and she is now ready for the day ahead.

As for the tunic she had clutched during her slumber, well, that requires the attention of another. Her duty uniform has already been placed in a basket awaiting to be cleaned, but the Vulcan's tunic is still on the bed. She glances at it, carefully taking it and placing it into its very own basket, separate from everything else. The Lieutenant takes care with the garment as she moves it, mindful of the tunic itself and its owner. With the Vulcan presently in recovery from this most recent bout of surgery and harrowing cardiac arrest, it may be sometime before he is released from the Medbay. Because of this, Uhura is almost tempted to wash the garment for him when she does her own clothing. Out of respect for the tunic and love for its wearer, and because of the tears that had marked it. Yet, as the Vulcan is very particular about the manner in which he washes his clothes, she will leave the tunic aside for him to wash whenever he is ready. For this, there is no haste, with all that he had been through. No matter how long it waits, the garment will still be there.

With one final glance around the space, she is assured that everything is in order. And with that, she departs from her quarters. A fresh duty shift awaits.

ooo

As she is presently quite early for the start of her shift, a detour is soon made. Her destination is the same as the night before, and little does she know of what awaits her there.

And as she once again steps through the doors of the Medbay, she meets the form of the one she seeks. Albeit, in an altered state. He is, of course, still strewn onto the same biobed as before, yet the difference from then until now is obvious. No more is he in an apparently deep slumber, but awakened with eyes observing all around him. Even though he is fully conscious, the fatigue still clearly marks his eyes, the leftover crevices of his ordeal.

Her heart almost trips over itself, a mild skip of a beat, and her body near leaps forward. Having just endured the ordeal of multiple heart attacks and subsequent surgeries, she is surprised to view him so awake. Yet, as she begins to move, steady and composed, she cannot veil the grin now marking her face. To view him like this is a good sight indeed. Progress has been made.

She is, one might add, almost beaming.

That grin and that beam continue as she soon approaches. And, as she draws close, he notices her, his tired eyes moving with the turn of his head. While he does not display the delight he might feel with her presence, his eyes almost give him away. She knows, deep within her heart, that he is glad to see her, just as she is glad to see him.

For a few moments, not a word is uttered between them, each basking in each other's presence. At last, she is by his side, and their eyes speak their relief. That he may suffer no more.

Quietly, he whispers her name, and that is all she needs to wrap herself around him. She can at last feel the warmth of his body against hers. Such a welcome sensation for the arms that embrace him, and for the chest nestled against his. And, he in turn returns the gesture, long arms encasing her.

The moments that they remain like this, brief as they might be, almost seem unending.

And as they hold each other taut, there begin words softly spoken, and carried with them a warmth and a gratitude. Through that tone he often uses with her, that wonderful tender tone.

"It is...very pleasing to see you."

The smile she gifts him, so close to his cheek, is one that he can feel, even through the slightest contact. How it warms them both, comforts them. And now, she begins to speak, softly and quietly, only for his ears to hear and none else.

"You're going to be alright."

While he may have already been informed of this by the medicos, she still tells him all the same. Her arms hold him tighter, the feeling brought forth by her words. And these words may not only be a reassurance for him, but also for her.

Now, the embrace begins to make its end, with her arms around him loosened, and her face moved out of its position. Their eyes meet and gaze unto each other, and again she makes quiet speech to him.

"How are you feeling?"

"I am, as one might put it, 'on the mend'."

The smile she now gives is much broader than before, and her crown soon nestles against his. And one final phrase from her, with their eyes closed simultaneously.

"I'm glad. So very glad."

After revelling in the contact yet again, her head begins to pull away. With not one single glance at a chronometer, she knows that her duties soon await her. The moment that his eyes open once more, she makes one final utterance of her departure.

"I have to go to the bridge now. But I'll come back later, okay?"

To her softly spoken words, his response is a simple nod; he knows of the importance of duty. Yet, neither truly want to depart; to remain here and bask in the joint warmth of comfort and love may be a tempting notion. Oh, but he of course would not dare keep her from her duties of Chief Communications Officer. And she in turn would not wish to disrupt further the medicos who tend to him. And leave him to rest.

So, the visitation has ended...for now. Until the next, he will await her. No matter what may unfold, she will stay true to her word, and visit him again.

For now, the bridge awaits her, and that is where she makes the journey.