CHAPTER 12
"Dr. McCoy, please report to the Transporter Room. I repeat, Dr. McCoy to the Transporter Room."
Uhura's voice rang out over the intercom and McCoy jerked upright, letting out a groan as his neck protested the sudden movement. He glanced around, confused, then realized he'd fallen asleep in the observation room. Massaging his neck, he shuffled over to the closest intercom and pressed the button.
"Yeah, yeah. McCoy here," he said gruffly. "Transporter room? What's going on, Nyota?"
"Standard away mission, Leonard. The captain expects you in the Transporter Room in five minutes, no special equipment necessary."
"Where in blazes does he expect us to beam down to?" McCoy asked before shaking his head. "Never mind. I'm on my way. McCoy out."
With only five minutes, McCoy dismissed the idea of stopping by Sick Bay. If Jim got hurt doing something stupid, well, it would serve him right. He was halfway to the Transporter Room when guilt made him double back to Sick Bay.
"Where is everyone?' McCoy asked Lieutenant Kyle when he saw the empty transporter pad. He slung the tricorder strap over his shoulder and secured the medkit to his belt. "I'm only a minute late."
"Just left, Sir," the transporter chief replied. "You're to join them when you arrive."
"That's damn picky of them," McCoy grumbled, stepping up onto the metal disc. They could have waited a few seconds more. "Where the hell am I going, anyway?"
"Third moon of Eltron, Sir."
McCoy recalled Spock's description of the Class M-Lunar; it would be hard for Jim to find trouble down there, but he didn't regret grabbing the medkit. Lips pursed, he nodded to the operator. "I'm ready."
When the golden light dissipated, McCoy was left standing in another type of light, one that was so earth-like that he was momentarily overcome with nostalgia. He turned his face up to the cloudless sky, relishing the warmth against his skin. The insides of his eyelids turned bright pink from the sunshine, and he felt the stiff muscles in his neck relax.
Something like honeysuckle sweetening the air caught McCoy's attention, and he glanced around. As described, the moon was made up of rolling grasslands, their slender leaves nearly reaching his knees. The only interruptions to this sea of green were small patches of violet and yellow flowers. McCoy knelt to pluck a yellow flower brushing against his boot and held it to his nose. If honeysuckle fell in love with lavender, he thought. This would be their offspring.
McCoy glanced around again but there was no sign of the landing party. It was odd, yes, but he wasn't alarmed. He headed for a nearby hill, thinking he would spot them from the top. As he climbed, he plucked more flowers to add to the one he'd kept. He paused to watch a pink, moth-like insect hover around his bouquet. "These aren't for you," he said to it, knowing Aggie would adore them. Perhaps she would even accept them if she thought they came from Sulu. His passion for horticulture was widely known, and she already admired his Alice plant.
The moth fluttered away, leaving McCoy's mood tinged with sadness. The sun had been at its zenith when he had beamed down, now it hung heavy in the sky like an over- ripe peach. The day, although shortened due to the moon's rapid rotation, suddenly felt long to McCoy. He climbed the rest of the hill, suddenly wanting to find his friends and be done with the away mission.
So caught up in his thoughts, McCoy nearly fell over the figure seated on top of the hill.
"Hey! Watch out!"
McCoy stumbled back and gasped. "Aggie?" He watched, stunned, as the young woman scrambled to her feet. She was wearing a soft gray dress and matching flats, although the shoes had been kicked off to the side. Her brown hair hung free down her back and the sun had already kissed her cheeks pink. Although still underweight, McCoy thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
"What are you doing here?" he asked softly, recalling another time, not so long ago, when he'd asked her the same question. "Alone, I mean. Where's the rest of the landing party?
She gave him a confused look. "It's just me. The captain asked if I wanted to get off the ship for a bit."
"So he just beamed you down here," McCoy concluded, realizing the entire away mission had been an elaborate (if stupid) scheme to get him and Aggie alone. McCoy shook his head. Leave it to Jim to be as subtle as photon torpedo. "I'll leave you to enjoy it then," he said quietly, and as he turned away, the flowers slipped from his fingers.
"Wait, Len. I. . . "
McCoy hesitated for a moment before turning back around. Aggie's face was pinched with distress. He wanted to comfort her but his arms remained limp at his sides. Hopelessness had sapped the last of his strength. He wanted to reach for his communicator, request a beam-up, and then close himself off in his quarters. But he couldn't even make his arm do that much.
"I know that I'm awake now," she continued, although she looked miserable saying it. "This is real."
McCoy blinked, tried to focus on her words. He remembered her fears, fears that she was still in the cryo-unit, her experiences onboard the Enterprise nothing more than a dream. "That's. . . real good, Aggie. Real good."
She glanced skyward, gave a watery laugh. "Is it? I don't know anymore." She shrugged carelessly. "At least I'm not cold anymore. You never asked, but I remember that much. The cold. Like death creeping in at the edges." She looked bewildered then. "And yet I still want the dream, Len. Even if it means that I'm asleep."
McCoy took a step toward her but grew concerned when she flinched away. "Aggie, tell me—"
"I thought you cared for me," she choked out. "I thought that you. . . oh, but it was too good to be true, wasn't it? I had to be dreaming. And now, even though I know that I'm not, I still lose. Because you won't even be on the same moon with me!"
"Aggie, what are you saying," McCoy said, stepping forward. Before she could retreat again, he seized her by the arms. "Aggie," he pressed, his heart suddenly racing. "Tell me!"
She shook her head but answered him anyway. "I love you, Len! But I knew I was dreaming to think you'd ever—"
Her words were cut off as McCoy yanked her against him, his lips crashing down against hers. She didn't respond for a moment, and McCoy cupped her face between his hands, tilted her face back, and demanded that her lips answer his. . .until they did.
It was hard to tell on Eltron's moon just how much time had passed. The stars were pinpricks of light on a velvet blanket, and Eltron's first and second moons, along with the planet itself, hung high in the sky.
At some point, whether overcome with emotion or from medical issues, Aggie's legs had given out. McCoy had followed her down onto the soft grass, refusing to let her go.
He'd abandoned her mouth for a short time and was tracing the underside of her jaw with his lips when a thought suddenly struck him.
He pulled away to gaze down at her. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and her lips swollen. A ripple of satisfaction went through him at seeing her this way, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss those lips again. But she could probably use a little breather and his curiosity was getting the better of him.
"How'd you get to Engineering?" he asked abruptly.
Her eyebrows knitted together briefly then realization dawned in her eyes and an embarrassed smile tugged at her lips. "What?"
"You know what I'm talking about," He teased gently. "I looked for you, every day for a week after that night you came to my quarters. You stopped using the main lift or the starboard lift that would have dropped you on the deck just above Engineering."
"Oh, yeah," she said, feigning interest in a flower near her head. The yellow looked silvery in the starlight. She tapped it so it swayed.
"Aggie. . . "
"Oh, all right!" She sighed in exasperation and stared up at him. He could tell she was blushing furiously. "If you want to know, I climbed down the service shaft."
McCoy pictured it in his minds eye—he'd done the same nearly a month ago aboard the Gyrating Ginny—and laughed softly. "Crazy girl."
"Your crazy girl," she corrected him, dragging a leg up till it rested nearly on his hip.
McCoy grunted both in agreement and in surprise how quickly his body responded to her touch. He readjusted himself so he was resting with more of his weight on the ground, putting a tiny gap between their bodies. Aggie, oblivious to his situation, pressed in closer.
"How long do you think we have?" Aggie asked, her eyes following the smaller of the two moons.
McCoy placed a peck on her lips then glanced up at the sky. The heavenly bodies were moving faithfully across the sky. Dawn wouldn't be far off. In fact, there was already a faint silvering along the horizon. He glanced back down at Aggie and answered her honestly. "Forever."
"I was talking about here." He felt her foot tap against his boot, indicating their place on the ground.
"I know," he admitted, feeling a little throb of regret. "I suppose a little while longer. Why? Did you want to go?"
"Quite the opposite," she said huskily before her lips found the hollow part in his throat.
A dizzying jolt of desire shot through McCoy, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to think of something else, something boring (anything that came out of Spock's mouth should have done it), but he couldn't find the willpower. His mind, body, and soul were focused entirely on Aggie. "Darling, you've got to be careful," he groaned. "Even a southern gentleman has his limits, especially when holding a beautiful woman."
"Limits," she scoffed gently. "I'd like to find out just where your limits are, Doctor McCoy, if you don't mind—" Aggie words were cut off as he planted a kiss on her mouth. She'd find his limits—and bust right through them—if he allowed her. And as beautiful as the night was, he wouldn't let that happen here. Not now. They had time, and he didn't want the experience to be rushed. He'd known from the medical scans that Aggie was a virgin. The evidence of such a thing in itself was a rare occurrence since most biological barriers were routinely removed on a girl's first gynecological exam. If McCoy had ever given it much thought, he would not have approved of the practice. What was so wrong with being human, and all the beautiful messiness that went with it?
He felt Aggie smiling against his lips, and he pulled away to give her an inquiring look. Her expression was filled with pure joy. "This is real!" she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "It's all real! I feel so. . . free!"
McCoy stroked her hair. "This is real, my love," he whispered back. "You're free." He paused, then added, "We're both free now."
Aggie looked so euphoric at his words that she practically glowed in his arms.
And hummed.
McCoy frowned. Glowing? Humming?
He rolled into a sitting position just as the transporter beam appeared, blinding him.
"Damn it, Jim!"McCoy growled. Why hadn't he just used the communicator? He glanced at Aggie who had sat up and was quickly smoothing out her dress. McCoy's mind rallied for a pretext that would explain their disarray but gave up after a few milliseconds. The attempt at an explanation would just bring about additional teasing.
But when the glow dissipated and his eyes readjusted to the starlight, McCoy could almost hear Spock's reproach at his all-too-quick assumption.
"Greetings," the Romulan said, grinning down at them with sharpened teeth. "I am Chakek."