The Andorian restaurant they picked was tucked into the corner of a corridor, bathed in a deep blue glow from the overhead lighting, its walls lined with intricate ice-like carvings that shimmered under the artificial light. The place smelled rich and unfamiliar; a mix of slow-roasted meats and something distinctly mineral, like the scent of cold air before a storm.

Leonard pulled out a chair for her without thinking about it, an old southern habit, and slid into his own seat across from her.

"So, Lost Girl," he said, leaning back, one arm draped over the back of his chair. "You always this prickly, or did I just catch you having an interesting day?"

She let out a short exhale, more of a breath than a laugh. "I could ask you the same thing."

Leonard smirked, then tilted his head. "Nah, I'm just naturally charmin'. People say it's one of my better qualities."

She arched a brow. "Who exactly says that?"

"Oh, y'know, folks. Strangers, colleagues, anyone lucky enough to share a meal with me," he drawled. "Some say I'm a delight."

She rolled her eyes, but he caught the ghost of a smirk before she reached for the menu.

"Listen," she said, voice quieter now. "I was—" She hesitated, the words fighting their way out. "I was a little sharp long travel. Been on my feet all day. Wasn't really in the mood to be…approached."

Leonard studied her, nodding slightly. "Fair enough."

She looked up, surprised. "That's it?"

"Well, you already admitted it, which means I win," he said, flashing a grin.

She sighed. "You're insufferable."

"Now that," he said, picking up the menu, "I have heard before."

Her expression softened—just a fraction—but enough that he felt the shift between them. She was still guarded, still holding something back, but she wasn't outright shutting him down anymore.

They both looked over the menu, scanning unfamiliar words in Andorian script with human translations underneath.

"Ever had Andorian food before?" He asked.

She shook her head. "No. You?"

"Nope. But I reckon if they've got a whole damn restaurant, it must be decent." He tapped a finger against the menu. "How bad can spicy icefish be?"

She lifted her gaze, skeptical. "Spicy ice fish?"

He shrugged. "Guess we're gonna find out."

She set her menu down and leaned forward slightly, resting her forearms on the table. "So, Doctor, what are you doing out here?"

He smirked at the way she slid the word in so casually. "So you did listen."

"I listen a lot," she said simply.

He nodded approvingly. "Good skill to have."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Well," he said, setting his menu down. "I'm passing through."

She huffed, amused. "That's a hell of a non-answer."

He lifted a brow. "Funny, I seem to recall you avoidin' my questions."

She sat back, conceding the point. "Touché."

They fell into a comfortable silence as the server arrived—an Andorian woman with pale blue skin and white hair twisted back into braids. They ordered the icefish and a few other dishes neither of them could pronounce properly, and Leonard made sure to get something with Andorian ale.

Once the server left, Leonard tapped a finger against the table. "You ever get tired of it?"

She lifted a brow. "Tired of what?"

"The travel. Always bein' in between places. It's got its perks, sure, but at some point, don't it get old?"

She hesitated, looking past him, as if considering her answer carefully.

"I love it! I was built for the stars." she admitted.

He nodded. "Figured as much."

She studied him for a moment, as if weighing her next words. "You seem like the kind of man who's used to being planted somewhere."

Leonard let out a short chuckle. "That obvious, huh?"

She tilted her head. "You've got the energy of someone who's spent more time on a porch than in a shuttle."

That made him laugh, a real one, deep and real. "Alright, I'll give you that. But I can adapt. I do fine in space."

"You tolerate space," she corrected.

He pointed at her. "Now that's accurate."

The food arrived, and they both eyed the icefish warily before taking cautious bites. It was an odd combination—cold but laced with heat, the spice creeping up at the end.

Leonard wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Huh."

"Huh?" she repeated, amused.

"Didn't think I'd like it, but it ain't bad." He took another bite, nodding to himself. "Gotta hand it to the Andorians, they know how to make a weird concept work."

They ate in companionable silence for a while before he leaned forward again. "Y'know, Lost Girl, I think I've figured you out."

She raised a brow. "Oh?"

He nodded with confidence. "You're in Starfleet too."

She didn't react immediately, but there was the briefest flicker in her eyes—something unreadable, something amused.

"Why do you think that?" she asked, swirling her glass.

He gestured toward her. "You carry yourself like someone trained for it. You're alert, you assess situations fast, but you don't act on 'em unless necessary. That, and you've got the distinct vibe of someone who's been through Starfleet bureaucracy hell at least once. Not sure which division though."

She considered him for a moment before finally, slowly, nodding. "Not bad, Doctor."

Leonard took another sip of his drink, watching her. "Y'know, I don't think you're as cold as you want people to think."

She let out a small, quiet laugh, shaking her head. "And I don't think you're as grumpy as you pretend to be."

Leonard gave her a half-smile. "Guess we'll have to find out, won't we?"

For the first time that night, she leaned forward, arms resting on the table, and met his gaze directly. "Guess we will."

The meal had been good. Better than expected, really. But now, as the empty plates sat between them, the energy of their banter faded into the kind of silence that felt like a decision point. The moment where most people would say their goodbyes, maybe nod politely and go their separate ways.

Leonard exhaled, straightening slightly. "Well, Lost Girl, it's been real. Hope you enjoy the rest of your—"

"I'm not ready for the night to end."

Leonard paused mid-sentence, his heart giving the faintest flicker of surprise. He tilted his head, studying her expression—calm, unreadable, but there was something there. A quiet challenge.

Her fingers drummed idly against the table. "Unless you are."

Leonard smirked. "Well, now, I ain't one to turn down a good time."

She nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Drinks?"

"I was hopin' you'd say that," he admitted, tossing his napkin onto the table.

She let out a small chuckle and stood. "Come on, then. Let's find a place with a strong pour."

Leonard followed her out, feeling lighter than he had all day.

They had only made it halfway down the promenade when his communicator chirped.

Leonard sighed, already knowing who it was. He pulled it from his pocket and flipped it open. "Yeah?"

"Bones, where the hell are you?" Jim's voice carried an air of amusement, but there was a hint of curiosity underneath. "We were supposed to meet up."

Leonard glanced at Lost Girl, since she still hadn't given him her damn name. She didn't look impatient, just mildly entertained as she slowed her pace, waiting for him to handle his call.

"I'm busy," Leonard said simply, walking a little ahead. "Plus, you didn't show up tonight, I'm pissed."

There was a pause on the other end.

"…Busy?" Jim repeated, clearly intrigued. "Busy doing what?"

Leonard exhaled through his nose. "Just…busy."

"Oh, this I gotta hear."

"No, you don't."

Jim's laughter crackled through the communicator. "Oh, come on, Bones. You never skip on the details. Is it a woman? It's a woman, isn't it?"

Leonard pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm hangin' up now."

"Bones—"

Click.

Leonard shut the communicator with a sharp snap and stuffed it back in his pocket.

"Your friend seems persistent," She noted, her tone casual but amused.

Leonard sighed. "My friend's got a nose for trouble."

She smirked. "Maybe you're trouble too."

Leonard huffed, shaking his head.

The bar they stumbled upon wasn't flashy or packed with officers on shore leave. It was dimly lit, cozy in a way that felt intimate. A few scattered patrons occupied the booths, engaged in quiet conversations, and a single bartender—a Tellarite with a gruff demeanor—barely looked up as they walked in.

Leonard gestured to the bar. "This'll do."

They slid into seats, and the bartender made his way over.

"What's your poison?" the Tellarite asked, voice deep and rough.

Leonard glanced at Lost Girl. "Ladies first."

She gave him a look but ordered anyway. "Saurian Brandy."

Leonard smirked. "Now we're talkin'." He turned to the bartender. "Same for me."

Their drinks arrived, and Leonard raised his glass in a casual toast. "To not bein' lost."

She smirked and clinked her glass against his. "To stubborn doctors."

Leonard chuckled before taking a sip, letting the burn settle. "Alright, Lost Girl. We've spent a whole meal and half the night dodgin' details, but I think it's time we trade at least one piece of information."

She arched a brow. "And what piece would that be?"

"Where's home?"

She took another sip, considering him over the rim of her glass before finally answering. "Chicago, Illinois."

Leonard's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "That tracks."

She tilted her head. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've got this bold, don't-mess-with-me energy," he said, leaning forward on the bar. "Chicago's got grit and soul. It's tough, but it's got heart. Just like you."

She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "That was almost poetic, Doctor."

He grinned. "I got layers, darlin'."

She swirled the whiskey in her glass, watching him. "And what about you?"

"Atlanta, Georgia," he said with a drawl that got just a touch thicker at the mention of home.

Her eyes flickered with something—curiosity, amusement. "So that's where the accent comes from."

Leonard smirked. "Guilty."

She hummed, taking another sip. "I like it."

Leonard wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the way she said it, but something warm settled in his body.

Time slipped away after that.

They talked about places they had been, food they had tried, and the strange things they had both encountered in deep space. She was sharp-witted, quick with a comeback, but she also listened—really listened—in a way that made Leonard realize how rare that was.

At some point, another round appeared. Then another.

And then, suddenly, it was 1 AM.

Leonard blinked, looking around as the bar had mostly emptied out, the bartender half-heartedly cleaning glasses with a rag that had seen better days.

"Damn," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I think we lost track of time."

Lost Girl checked her wrist chrono and let out a low whistle. "Guess we did."

Leonard stretched slightly before standing. "C'mon, Lost Girl. I'll walk you to your room."

She gave him a look. "I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that," Leonard said easily. "But humor me."

She didn't argue.

The walk was quiet, a comfortable kind of silence settling between them as the dimly lit halls of the space station stretched ahead. The air felt different now—not charged, but something close to it. A warmth, an understanding.

When they reached her door, they hesitated.

Leonard shifted slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well… guess this is goodnight."

She watched him for a moment before extending her hand. "Georgina Knox."

Leonard blinked.

She smirked. "But my friends call me Georgie."

Leonard took her hand, shaking it slowly, letting her name settle in his mind. "Georgie," he repeated, testing it.

She nodded.

Leonard let go, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Well, Georgie, I gotta say—this was the best damn accidental night I've had in a long time."

She tilted her head, a quiet smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah. It was. Good night, Leonard."

He stepped back. "Sleep tight, Lost Girl."

As he turned and walked away, he felt her watching him.

And damn if that didn't put a grin on his face.

Leonard lay on his bed, one arm thrown over his eyes, trying—and failing—to stop thinking about her.

He hadn't felt this way in a long time.

Hell, he wasn't even sure what this way was.

It wasn't love at first sight. He wasn't the kind of man who believed in that nonsense. But there was something about her, about the way she carried herself, the way she challenged him without being cruel, the way she laughed when she finally let herself.

She was sharp, quick, and guarded—but not in a way that made her closed off, just… careful. Like a woman who had spent too much time being underestimated and had learned to let people earn their place in her life.

He respected that.

Maybe that's why he had enjoyed her company so much.

But it didn't matter.

She was just passing through, and so was he.

They had shared a night of drinks, conversation, and something that could have been something if life were different.

But it wasn't different.

And in a few hours, they'd be back on their own paths.

Still, as he closed his eyes, the last thing he thought about before sleep finally took him was her voice, the way she had said his name.

The next morning, Leonard met up with Jim in the station's café, where the captain was already halfway through his second cup of coffee.

"Bones, there you are," Jim greeted, looking him over with amused scrutiny. "You look… well-rested."

Leonard rolled his eyes. "Don't start."

Jim smirked but let it go. "So, what'd you get up to last night? You didn't have to bail on Spock and Uhura."

Leonard took a sip of his own coffee before answering. "Nothin' much. Just had a dinner, met someone interesting, had a good time."

Jim leaned forward, eyes bright with curiosity. "Met someone interesting, huh?"

Leonard gave him a flat look. "Not in the way your damn mind is thinkin'."

Jim held up his hands in surrender. "I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to," Leonard muttered.

Jim grinned. "Alright, alright. So you had fun. Good. You've been acting like a crotchety old man for months—nice to see you're capable of socializing."

Leonard huffed but didn't argue. "So, what's on the schedule?"

Jim sipped his coffee. "New transfers are arriving soon. I figured I'd stick around, greet the fresh faces, make sure they're all properly intimidated by their charming captain."

Leonard snorted. "Yeah, 'charming' is one word for it."

Jim grinned. "You sticking around?"

Leonard shrugged. "Might as well."

Jim gave him a knowing look but didn't push further.

They finished their coffee, and Leonard followed Jim to the docking area where the new transfer crew was assembling.

Leonard stood near the back, arms crossed, letting Jim do the usual captain thing—introducing himself, setting expectations, throwing in a charming quip here and there.

And then Jim looked down at his PADD, scrolling through names.

"Lieutenant Commander Georgina Knox."

Leonard's stomach dropped.

No.

That name.

That name couldn't be right.

And yet—

Georgina stepped forward in her pristine red uniform, standing at attention, sharp and composed.

Leonard barely stopped himself from reacting, but he knew his face had betrayed something, because the moment her eyes landed on him she froze.

It lasted only a second, a flicker of recognition in her dark eyes before she schooled her features back into neutrality.

Jim, of course, noticed.

His brows lifted slightly as he glanced between them. "Wait. Do you two know each other?"

Leonard opened his mouth, closed it, then cleared his throat.

Georgina, to her credit, managed to keep her expression impressively neutral.

"We're… uh," she started, then hesitated.

Leonard sighed and ran a hand down his face.

"We're friends," he admitted, glancing at her briefly.

She nodded quickly, eyes flicking to Jim. "Yeah. Friends."

Jim, who had spent years reading people, immediately caught onto the awkward tension between them and smirked.

"Huh," Jim mused. "Small universe."

Leonard shot him a look, silently begging him not to start.

Jim just grinned.

"Well, Lieutenant Commander Knox," he said, shifting gears effortlessly. "Welcome aboard the Enterprise."

Leonard didn't hear her response.

He was too busy coming to terms with the fact that Lost Girl—Georgie—wasn't just passing through after all.

She was here.

On his ship.

As soon as Jim dismissed the new transfers, Georgina made her way toward Leonard, her expression unreadable.

He braced himself, already sensing the conversation wasn't going to be an easy one.

"You didn't tell me you're on this ship," she said, arms crossed.

Leonard gave her a pointed look. "Funny, I was about to say the same damn thing."

She exhaled through her nose, tilting her head slightly. "I thought you were just passing through."

Leonard smirked. "I was."

She narrowed her eyes but didn't argue.

Jim, who was still standing there, arms crossed and looking far too entertained by all of this, cleared his throat. "Well, I hate to interrupt this reunion, but since we're all acquainted now, let's get formalities out of the way."

He turned to Georgina, all charm and authority. "Lieutenant Knox, you're the Enterprise's new Chief of Tactical and Security. You've got a hell of a reputation—your record is solid, and your previous Captain and First Officer had nothing but high praise. You're exactly what we need."

Georgina nodded sharply. "Thank you, sir. I won't disappoint."

Jim smiled. "I don't doubt it."

Leonard recognized that tone in Jim's voice—warm, intrigued, curious.

He also caught the way Jim's eyes flicked over Georgina, not just in appraisal of her skills, but as a man looking at a very beautiful woman.

Leonard knew Jim too well.

He was interested.

And that thought? It did something weird to Leonard's stomach.

Jim clapped his hands together. "You'll get your official assignments shortly, and until then you can get settled into your quarters. I'll check in with you later."

Georgina gave a curt nod. "Looking forward to it, sir."

Leonard swore Jim's grin widened just a little.

Damn it.

Her attention went to Leonard. "I guess I will see you around."

"Likewise." He said, giving her a smirk. Georgina turned to leave, giving Leonard one last unreadable glance before disappearing down the corridor.

Leonard exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face.

Jim elbowed him. "So… friends, huh?"

Leonard shot him a look. "Don't start."

Jim raised his hands innocently. "I just think it's interesting. This has to be the mystery girl from last night. You meet her one night, and the next morning, she's on our ship? That's some fate-type shit right there."

Leonard groaned. "You're worse than a damn soap opera."

Jim smirked but said nothing.

Then, after a moment, he glanced down the hall where Georgina had disappeared and hummed thoughtfully.

"She's impressive," Jim mused. "Smart, confident, gorgeous—"

Leonard cut him off. "No."

Jim blinked, feigning innocence. "No what?"

Leonard pointed a finger at him. "No. Whatever's goin' on in your brain, stop it."

Jim grinned, unbothered. "Bones, I haven't even done anything yet."

"Yet," Leonard grumbled, folding his arms.

Jim clapped him on the shoulder and teased. "Relax. I'm just sayin'—if you're not gonna go after her I could—"

Leonard groaned loudly and started walking away.

Jim laughed, knowing how to push his friend's buttons.