Fic: Cabin by the Lake (1/1)

[laughter_now]

Title: Cabin by the Lake (1/1)
Author: laughter_now
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 7496 words
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy (established)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Star Trek. I just wish I did.
Summary: Leonard had always known that one day, Jim was going to encounter the one medical condition that would bring him to his knees. He just never thought it would hurt so much to sit by and watch him suffer.
Answer to this prompt at the buckleup_meme

Cabin by the Lake

"The infection as such is harmless," Leonard said to Spock, who was standing in front of his desk with his arms behind his back, assuming his usual stance of attentive yet completely emotionally uninvolved interest. For once, Leonard ignored the urge to make a smart remark about it. Instead he continued his report. "As far as infections go, at least. The fever is the main problem, but it's steady for now and I don't expect it to go up any further. He will be out of commission for at least three days, though, even with all the meds he's on right now."

Spock nodded, his face still not betraying any emotion.

"Of course. I shall adjust the duty roster."

"Right. And no matter what Jim says come tomorrow, he's not going to go back on duty before that. Worst about Margallian blood worms is the treatment. It flushes out the parasites and the source of the infection, so his body will heal all on its own, but the medication is wracking havoc on his pain receptors. Until the parasites are out of his system, he's going to be in a world of pain. I don't expect that he's going to sleep tonight, and his body will need a little while to recover."

Again, Spock nodded. "Tell him I wish him a speedy recovery. I will inquire about the Captain's condition in the morning, unless there are any new developments. Doctor."

He inclined his head in parting and turned to leave Leonard's office. Leonard didn't even have it in him to complain about the Vulcan's apparent brusque behaviour. He was used to it by now, and half-Vulcan or not, Spock had been worried when Jim had been brought to Medical earlier, his whole body contorted in pain. And not just in the way a First Officer is worried about his Captain, no matter how much the green-blooded bastard might deny it.

And for now, Leonard had other things to worry about than the state of Jim's and Spock's friendship. He had a long night ahead of him.

Outside, Medical was unusually quiet, and the dimmed lights marked the beginnings of gamma shift. The only occupied bed was on the far side of the room, holding a sleeping ensign from the botany lab who had gotten too close to one of the lab's poisonous plants. But Christine had it covered, and in case of an emergency she was under instructions to call Geoffrey. Leonard wasn't going to leave Jim alone, not now that Spock had been informed of the situation.

Jim had been put in the bed closest to Leonard's office, with the privacy screens drawn to shield him from the eyes of whoever was going to come into Medical over the course of the night. Leonard drew back the screen and stepped up to the bed, his eyes immediately drawn to the sight of Jim, lying curled up on his side under the thin sheet. His eyes were closed, but he wasn't asleep. With the amount of pain he had to be in, it was impossible that he was asleep. And this was just the beginning. If Leonard's prognosis was right - and there were no words to describe how much he wished, just this once, that he was wrong - then it was only going to get worse as the night progressed.

"Bones?"

Something inside of Leonard tightened painfully at the weak and raspy sound of Jim's voice. He quickly pulled the privacy screen closed again and with a quick look at the bedside table convinced himself that they had everything they were going to need for the night. It looked like it, and Leonard stepped up to the bed and ran his fingers through Jim's sweat-matted hair.

"Yes, it's me. How do you feel?"

"Not so good," Jim replied, moving his head into the contact. That alone was worrisome enough, because for Jim to admit that he was anything less than perfectly all right, the pain had to be bad.

"I can't give you anything against the pain, Jim. I'm sorry."

"'s not your fault," Jim slurred, tightening his body convulsively as the pain got a little worse. Apparently, speaking was rapidly climbing its way up the 'don't do'-list right now.

"Shhh," Leonard soothed. "Don't talk. It's going to be an uncomfortable night, but the meds are doing their job and by tomorrow morning you'll be as good as new. We'll ride it out together, okay?"

Jim struggled a hand out from underneath the sheet covering him and weakly reached into the direction of Leonard's voice.

"Stay?"

Leonard grasped the hand in his own and gave it a tight squeeze. "Of course I will." Reluctantly, he let go of Jim's hand again and carefully guided it back to Jim's side before he pulled up the sheet again.

"Your scans look good so far. By tomorrow morning the last of the bloodworms should be out of your system. But until then your nociceptors are going to be firing off signals to your brain and trick it into thinking you're in pain."

"Kinda noticed that," Jim groaned, curling up a little tighter on the bed.

"It'll probably ebb and flow over the course of the night as different pain receptors are stimulated. I need you to tell me when the pain shifts, and especially if it gets significantly worse, okay?"

Jim nodded. Judged by the way he was biting his lip during the movement, the pain was already pretty bad. Leonard moved closer to the bed and gently placed a hand on top of Jim's head.

"Describe the pain for me, Jim."

"Stings. Like…like cramps."

"Pulsating? Letting up a little, then flaring up again?"

Jim nodded, his face contorting into a grimace.

Muscle spasms, then, or at least that's what Jim's pain receptors were telling his brain. It wasn't the worst possible kind of pain, but then again it probably wasn't going to stay that way. And because there was no physical source to the pain, Leonard couldn't even give Jim a heating pack or a warming bottle to help against the spasming muscles, not if there was nothing wrong with them in the first place.

"Okay, I need you to be honest now. On a scale from one to ten, how bad is the pain?"

It took a moment for Jim to answer, and that hesitation was enough for Leonard to know that he still had to take Jim's answer with a grain of salt.

"Five."

Which translated to six at least, probably even seven. And he was fairly sure that his wasn't the worst yet.

"Okay. Good. Try to relax as much as you can, and let me know if it gets worse."

Jim gave one court nod, but he had his eyes screwed shut in a way that suggested it might have gotten worse already.

Leonard hated this. He was a doctor, and sitting by when someone - even worse, someone he loved - was in pain and not being able to do anything about it went against every fibre of his being. He longed to do something, his fingers were itching to pick up a hypospray and just do something, anything to make this easier for Jim. But he couldn't. He could only sit by and watch, and hoped that it helped Jim just a little bit that he was here.

As he settled in the chair by the bed, PADD on his knees in the - more and more unlikely - case he could use the night to catch up on his paperwork, his left hand almost automatically moved underneath the blanket and reached for Jim's. Their fingers intertwined, and Jim squeezed his hand tightly. The mere thought that he could use the night to even think about work seemed ridiculous now as he looked at Jim on that bed. He was curled up on the mattress in a hopeless attempt to alleviate the phantom pains, his eyes were closed and even though it was obvious that he was trying to keep the pain from showing, his face contorted each and every time his brain fooled his body into thinking that a renewed cramp was coursing through his body.

He looked so small like that, almost fragile, and once more Leonard cursed himself that there was nothing at all he could do to help Jim.

Each time he experienced another of those phantom cramps, Jim would reflexively squeeze Leonard's hand. Though it felt like not nearly enough, Leonard squeezed back each and every time, his thumb tracing random patterns over the back of Jim's hand.

After a while the intervals between the squeezes grew longer, and Jim uncurled himself slightly on the bed. He still had his eyes closed, though, and slowly but steadily started moving his head across the pillow. There were thin lines crinkling the corners of his eyes, one of the few small things Leonard had learned over the years to read as indicators that Jim was in pain. A different kind of pain, if Leonard was one to judge.

"Jim?"

Jim flinched at the sound of his voice, and he didn't open his eyes either. "Head," he whispered. "Stings. Feels like someone's squeezing…right through my skull…"

A migraine, probably. Judging by his own experience, Leonard knew that those could be far worse than muscle spasms, but Jim's discomfort didn't seem to have increased, even if it hadn't decreased, either.

"How bad?"

"'s okay."

"Jim, on a scale from one to ten, how bad is the pain?"

"Four. Four to five."

A little less bad than the phantom muscle spasms had been, not that it was saying much. Especially since pain in the head was a lot more disabling than pain anywhere else in the body. And even though Leonard knew that the pain was not real, and wouldn't let up no matter what he tried, he couldn't help but tell the computer to lower the lights another twenty-five percent.

"It's okay," he whispered. "Just try to get as much rest as you can."

Jim tried to keep himself as still as possible in an effort to not aggravate the pain in his head. Leonard was still condemned to sit by helplessly, unable to do anything to alleviate what Jim was going through. He didn't even spare a glance at the chrono to see for how long the pain lasted before the treatment stimulated different pain receptors and Jim had to get used to yet another type of pain again. The biobed was recording everything, and there would be time for this once he went over the medical recordings of that night. Later, though. Right now, being a doctor could wait.

He just sat there and held on to Jim's hand, and occasionally he ran a wet cloth over Jim's sweaty forehead in an attempt to alleviate his discomfort at least a little. He didn't know how long it lasted, but at one point the migraine blended into sharp stabs of pain in Jim's gut. A seven, Bones, maybe an eight - which made it worse than the previous phantom pains he had experienced, a pain that came and went seemingly at random. Jim curled up tight, keeping Leonard's hand clutched against his chest and pulled it along as he shifted, reflexively squeezing it whenever the pain flared up.

His breathing was getting laboured, Leonard noticed, short, panting breaths whenever the pain got worse. A thin sheen of sweat was covering his face, and the hand clutching Leonard's was warm and clammy. Right. Even for someone with a pain tolerance as high as Jim, that estimation of a seven, maybe an eight was way off.

Leonard didn't know for how long it lasted. It didn't matter, because it was simply too long no matter how many minutes exactly it went on. Every moment that Jim was in pain was one moment too much in Leonard's book. It was supposed to be his job to make sure it didn't happen at all, and now all he could do was sit on his ass and watch how the man he loved went through all kinds of agony. It damn well wasn't fair.

Leonard was dimply aware of sounds and movement behind the privacy curtain around the bed, signs that the normal gamma-shift comings and goings in Medical were still happening, that a world outside of the curtain around this bed still existed, but he didn't care. And only when Jim slowly but surely uncurled, easing his death-grip around Leonard's hand and sinking back into the pillows with a small, broken sigh, did Leonard even allow thoughts about anything but Jim again.

By now, it was three a.m. ship-time, which meant they had been here for over four hours now. And judged by his earlier prognosis about the treatment, they had at least another two to three hours ahead of them.

Leonard almost didn't dare to hope when Jim experienced nothing worse than a sensation of pins and needles in his hands and feet for a while after that.

"More of a nuisance than pain," he panted out, his voice rough and still trembling slightly. Leonard didn't allow himself to feel relief yet, but he wiped away the sweat from Jim's face and let his fingers linger in his hair for a few seconds. He was worried that this was only a temporary respite, but no matter what it was, Jim should take whatever rest he could get.

"Try to get some rest, Jim. Sleep a bit if you can."

Jim nodded weakly, his eyes already closing. He didn't reach for Leonard's hand again, which was no surprise considering the stinging sensation he had to be experiencing in his limbs, but still left Leonard feeling strangely empty. Jim didn't fall asleep though, Leonard could see that much. There as still a tension to the way he held himself, and his eyes were moving restlessly beneath his closed lids in a way that had nothing to do with real sleep. But he was resting as much as he possibly could right now, and Leonard was grateful for that small mercy.

He made the mistake of checking the chrono again.

If he hadn't done that, he wouldn't have known that the small respite Jim was granted lasted only for about twenty minutes. Twenty minutes before it got a whole damn lot worse than it had been all evening. There was no gradual shift. Instead, from one moment to the next Jim suddenly yelped and curled up again, flinching as if he had been struck. But as quickly as he had curled up, Jim uncurled again, shimmying along the mattress as if he was trying to lift his weight in as many places as possible at the same time.

Worst though was the small whimper that escaped Jim's lips as he started to move. It wasn't a sound Jim should ever make, no sound Leonard ever wanted to hear falling from those lips, and if anything, that sound sent Leonard moving faster than any indication of pain could have. He leaned forward immediately, hands clasping the edge of the biobed tightly, hesitant to touch Jim as long as he didn't know what was wrong.

"Jim?"

Jim shook his head, biting his bottom lip so hard that Leonard was worried he was going to draw blood. Whatever this was, it was bad.

"Jim, talk to me. What is it?"

"Burns." It wasn't even Jim's voice. That high-pitched, strained gasp was unlike anything Leonard had ever heard from the other man, and he had seen Jim in all kinds of pain before.

"What burns?"

"Skin. It burns. Like…god…like a phaser burn…"

Oh, damn it all to hell. "Where, Jim?"

The pause lasted a little too long for Leonard's liking, and the answer only confirmed that this was really approaching the peak of pain he had anticipated for this night. Just once, Leonard would have revelled in being wrong.

"Everywhere."

Leonard drew a deep breath in a desperate attempt to reign in his emotions. The sensation of burns was probably the worst kind of pain, and he wished Jim could have been spared that particular experience. Jim continued to shift along the mattress and almost automatically Leonard reached out to try and still him, but thought better of it at the last moment. There was nothing physically wrong with Jim, so there was nothing that could be aggravated by the shifting, even if it wasn't going to help him alleviate the pain, either.

"How bad, Jim? On a scale from one…"

"Ten," Jim gasped out, and that admission sent all the alarm bells in Leonard's head ringing. Jim never admitted to the true extend of the pain he was in, and that he did so right now took Leonard by surprise as much as it scared him, too.

And there still was nothing he could do. Not a damn thing. Nothing but offering up empty platitudes.

"It's okay, Jim. It's bad now, but it's going to pass. We just need to ride it out, okay? Breathe, and try not to focus on the pain."

Really? Try not to focus on the pain? Leonard wanted to slap himself for sprouting such a pseudo-pacifying crap. But Jim didn't even seem to hear him. He was still shifting restlessly, and with growing concern Leonard noticed that Jim was moving away from him, trying to hide his face in the pillow even as his body continued to move restlessly along the mattress.

"Jim?"

Leonard got up from his chair and leaned over the bed, trying to catch a glimpse of Jim's face. It wasn't easy because Jim had curled up with his chin tucked against his chest, and Leonard overcame his hesitations about touching and gently cupped Jim's cheek to turn his face a little towards him.

He caught a flash of blue, but almost immediately Jim pressed his eyes shut and tried to turn his head away again. The feeling of moisture against Leonard's hand was all the explanation he needed for Jim's behaviour. Unbidden, a small voice in the back of his head supplied the information that in all the years he had known Jim, despite everything they had been through together, he had never seen Jim cry before.

And damn who- or whatever made Jim think that he had to hide this from him. From him of all people.

Leonard didn't try to force Jim to turn his head, but he kept his hand against his cheek, thumb gently, almost tenderly, tracing against the stubbly cheek. He ignored the tears he could feel under his fingers, though. If there was one thing he wasn't going to mention tonight - or ever, for that matter - then it was the fact that Jim Kirk had finally encountered the kind of pain that went beyond his thresholds and brought him to his knees. There was no weakness in that, but Leonard knew Jim well enough to know that he'd see it differently.

One damn bug bite, so small that even Leonard missed it during the post-mission examination. One tiny bite, just a few seconds during which those horrible parasites made their way into Jim's bloodstream, that was all it had taken to reduce Jim Kirk to tears. Leonard hated that he had missed the bite-mark, and he hated even more that he couldn't make the fallout any easier.

Right now, there was no room left for any thought other than how the hell he was supposed to help Jim through this. Everything he had to offer, reduced as he was to words and touches, seemed insufficient. Too little.

"It's okay, Jim. Breathe through it. I know it's bad, but soon the treatment will have run its course. It'll get better, I promise."

Jim whimpered again, a stifled sound that tore right at something in Leonard's chest - most probably his heart, or maybe something deeper, more vital. He was still shifting restlessly, and as much as Leonard wanted to stop him, he knew it was Jim's attempt to try and alleviate the sensation of burns on his skin. It was hopeless and senseless, but Leonard didn't have the heart to tell him that right now.

"It's important that you breathe right now, okay? Slow, deep breaths, Jim. Hyperventilating will only make things worse. You just focus on my voice now, and take deep breaths. In and out, Jim. In and out. Just like that. You're doing good, Jim. Just breathe, darlin'. I promise you the pain is going to let up soon. You know that it's just your brain sending out wrong signals to your nerves. You'll be fine, just give it a few hours."

Jim pressed his face into Leonard's palm even as he curled up more tightly on the biobed. It seemed impossible that someone as tall and lively as Jim should be able to curl up into such a small ball, but the proof was right here in front of his eyes.

Jim Kirk, always trying to achieve the impossible.

Not knowing what to do, but unable to do nothing, Leonard continued to murmur and could only hope that the words, or at least the sound of his voice, was able to penetrate Jim's world of pain.

"Just like that, Jim. You're doing good. Remember that time on Berios III, when that cave came down around us? Your leg was broken and those damn rocks broke everything in my medkit. You were in pain back then, too, but we pulled you through it, remember? You just need to breathe, slowly and regularly. Remember that feeling of relief when they finally found us and I gave you that analgesic? That's what I want you to think about. It's going to be just like that when the pain subsides. Until it does, I need you to keep breathing just like that, okay? Deep, even breaths."

Jim was still curled up into a tight ball on the biobed, but it was obvious that he was trying to control his breathing the way Leonard suggested. But it was just as obvious that he was still struggling, his breathing more hitched than relaxed. It caused Leonard near physical pain to see Jim like that. Jim still had his eyes screwed tightly shut, and a definite trail of moisture was running down his cheek and along the side of his nose before it vanished along his upper lip. Leonard longed to reach out and wipe it away, but even as he reached out, Jim moved away from the touch and tried to bury his face deeper in his pillow.

"Jim…"

"Keep talking," Jim gasped, his voice breaking over the last syllable. "Helps."

Leonard had never heard Jim like that before, not in all the years they had known each other, and something inside of him snapped at hearing that undertone in the voice of the man he loved. He got up from his chair, cursing himself for ever thinking that he could spend the night at a distance. Jim immediately uncurled and moved towards him, the movement accompanied by a sharp cry of pain. But his eyes were wide, and he struggled into a sitting position despite his body's protests.

As if Jim was afraid Leonard was going to leave.

As if Leonard ever could.

Framing Jim's face with his hands, he gently wiped his thumbs over the tear tracks on Jim's cheeks.

"Please," Jim rasped out, his face contorted in pain. God, how could he even think that Leonard could ever deny him something he needed?

"It's okay," he tried to soothe. "I'm right here, darlin', and I'm not going anywhere."

He pressed a quick kiss to Jim's lips, and then, despite all his hesitations about moving Jim while he was in so much pain, he started to shift him around as carefully as possible. If the movement caused a whimper or two to escape Jim's lips, Leonard pretended he didn't notice, and he surely wouldn't ever mention it again. It took too long, seemingly endless until he was finally sitting on the bed with Jim settled between his legs, Jim's back resting against his chest. The biobed beeped in alarm at the sudden increase in weight and the confusing biosigns it was reading, but a few commands typed into the console took care of that. Leonard knew that he was screwing up Jim's readings that way, but right now he couldn't care less about any kind of data he might miss later on in his report.

Jim was still shifting, trying to alleviate imaginary burns, but Leonard hoped that this way, Jim would be able to relax a little more. Mainly though, the simple truth was that Leonard could no longer sit by without touching Jim in some way. It still wasn't going to help Jim, not really, but it calmed Leonard at least somewhat. Maybe he could pass some of that on to Jim.

Jim was restlessly shifting around, even now that he was cradled in Leonard's arms, and Leonard pressed a quick kiss on top of Jim's sweat-matted hair.

"There, that's better. You just rest now, Jim. Let me do all the talking, okay? You just relax and try to breathe with me. In and out, Jim. In and out."

One of Leonard's hands was resting against Jim's side, and he was a little surprised when Jim reached for it and intertwined their fingers as he pulled their joined hands across his stomach. Leonard wouldn't have thought that Jim was comfortable with this much skin to skin contact, but the way he was clinging to Leonard's hand quickly convinced him otherwise.

For a moment, Leonard felt lost as to what he could possibly tell Jim to talk the night away. But then it was probably not even important what he said. On the contrary, he seriously doubted that with the levels of pain he was in, Jim would even listen, much less remember anything later on. It really wasn't going to matter much what he told Jim.

"You know, I've been thinking about shore leave. It's only a couple of weeks left, after all. And by the way, I know that you've been planning to go to Risa, you know? It's not exactly subtle or a secret if you start downloading travel brochures onto my PADD because yours is full, so it's not really weighing on my conscience that I know about it."

Jim didn't reply; he only squeezed Leonard's hand reflexively as he tried to burrow himself deeper into Leonard's chest.

"And if that's where you want to go, that's okay. I mean, there's nothing you can't do on Risa, so if that's where you want to spend our shore leave, we'll go there, travel time be damned. But I couldn't help but thinking that maybe we'd want to look at something more low-key."

It was the completely wrong way to start this. He wasn't trying to sell something to Jim. There was a reason why he hadn't yet talked to Jim about any of this, and starting it while Jim was writhing in pain and had other things in mind was probably not the best idea either. He just couldn't stop himself, and maybe it was best to say it all now, when chances were good that Jim wasn't even going to remember it come tomorrow, anyway.

"I don't know if I ever told you, but my uncle has this cabin. Up in Montana of all places, and don't ask me how the hell a McCoy ever came to own property this far north. But it's away from San Francisco, from the Admiralty, and from all those reporters that are after you whenever Enterprise is in space dock. Of course it can't compare to a Risian luxury spa, just so you know. Electricity and indoor plumbing is as far as it goes, but…I thought it might make for a nice change of pace. The cabin is still around, it's only going to need a few rounds with a broom and maybe a bucket of water here and there, so it's not like we'd really need to worry about anything but provisions."

Jim made a small sound in the back of his throat as he shifted yet again, and for the sake of getting through this Leonard decided to take the sound as a sign of acquiescence.

"There's a lake by the cabin. It's so close, it's practically right off the front porch. My uncle used to go fishing there, but I know how you are about sitting still for hours, so I'm not going to force you through that. I'm not too keen on fishing, either, to be honest, but my uncle's boat is still out there by the cabin in case we need it. It's off-season now, too, so nobody else should be in the area. It'd be just you and me. We haven't had that for ages, Jim. Not since the Academy, in any case, if ever. I…I'd like to have you for myself, for a change, at least for a little while."

He knew it wasn't Jim's idea of the perfect holiday. Jim needed constant motion, needed physical as well as mental exercise, and two weeks in the Montana wilderness wasn't going to cut it. Still, it was nice to entertain the thought of just Jim and him actually spending their shore leave at his uncle's cabin, with nobody else around who wanted a piece of Jim. It was a nice thought, even if it wasn't ever going to happen.

"We could stock up on everything we need for the time and just tell everyone else to go screw themselves. Just think about it, Jim. We'll turn off our comms, and we'll only do what we both want. We'll sleep in for as long as we like, wrapped around each other on that big bed, and no damn comm or alarm is going to wake us up. And every morning I'll make sure to be awake a few minutes before you, because there's nothing better than the sight of watching you wake up. You always make these snuffling sounds right before you wake up, and it's like a sign for me to look at you to see the moment you open those baby-blues for me. That's always my favourite part of the morning, when you wake up and look at me."

Right now those blue eyes were screwed shut against the pain, silent tears still leaking down Jim's cheeks even as Leonard leaned forward and pressed a kiss on top of Jim's head.

"Two weeks, Jim, with nobody telling us what to do or where to be. The lake is great for swimming, even if it might be a bit on the cold side at this time of year. Plenty of trails to go hiking on, too, or rock-climbing if you really want to. Though I gotta tell you right away, if you hurt yourself or break something just because you feel the unquenchable urge to crawl up the steep side of a mountain, there's going to be hell to pay. Patching you back up again in some community hospital isn't my idea of spending time with you."

He wouldn't put it past Jim to find a way to maul himself even on a holiday that was supposed to be relaxing. But maybe they should get through the current crisis first before he even started contemplating the next one. Jim was holding his hand in a vice-like grip, crushing and grinding the bones together so hard that it was painful.

"Bones…"

It sounded more broken, more helpless than Leonard had ever heard, and it broke his heart all over again.

"What is it? What's wrong, love?"

It was a clear sign how bad Jim was doing that he didn't even bother to comment on the unusual endearment. He was still writhing, wriggling as if he was trying to press as closely as possible against Leonard while at the same time trying to keep his skin from touching anything that would aggravate the pain from the phantom burns. It was a hopeless attempt, and it scared Leonard a little that Jim was reduced to these instinctive reactions even though intellectually he knew that it wasn't going to help any.

"Jim?"

"Hurts," Jim rasped out, burying his face farther into Leonard's shirt. "Hurts so much, Bones."

"Shhh," Leonard soothed, running his hand through Jim's short hair. "It's okay, sweetheart. It's going to be just fine. I've got you, and I'm not letting you go. It's going to be over soon, I promise you. And once shore leave comes around, you can take all the time you need to recuperate. It's going to be just the two of us, just you and me, Jim."

A keening sound escaped Jim's throat, but Leonard felt him nod weakly against his chest, and it encouraged him to keep talking.

"We're not gonna care about anything or anyone besides us for the entire leave. One day at a time, we'll only do what we wanna do. It's not like anyone's going to be around who'll care about whether we bother to put on a shirt, or if we forget to shave for a couple of days." He lifted his free hand and ran a finger over Jim's stubbly cheek before he rested it back against Jim's shoulder.

"You look good with a bit of scruff on you, darlin'. Rugged is a handsome look on you, and if the weather allows it I think I'm going to insist that you leave the shirt off for the entire time that we're on leave. It'll be hard enough to keep my hands off you as it is, and clothes would only get in the way. And I'm going to take my sweet time with you, Jim. With nobody there to interrupt us, I'm going to kiss and caress every inch of you. I'm going to tease you for as long as we can both stand it, make you fall apart first before I put you back together again."

Because if there was one thing they never had enough time for, then it was uninterrupted time for one another, time to enjoy one another completely without the possibility of an interruption looming over them. It was one thing Leonard would never stop craving - more time with Jim, just the two of them.

"I wonder what your skin tastes like after a day in the sun. I bet it's going to be warm under my lips and tastes like sweat and sunshine. I'm going to taste it, Jim, and then I'm going to compare it to how cool your skin is going to be when you come out of the lake, cold and wet under my tongue. I'm going to kiss away every last drop of water from every inch of your skin, just to make sure I don't miss anything. And only then, once I'm done with that and have tasted every inch of you am I going to make love to you. We're going to do a lot of that during shore leave, just so you know. It's only going to be us, so there'll be plenty of time to make love."

Not that their current love life was in any way lacking, but the prospect of just them, with all the time in the world and no schedules to consider, for two whole weeks, was more than enticing.

"Have you ever made love in front of a real fireplace, with the fire crackling and burning behind you, and the light flickering orange and red all through the room? On a wooden bed so old that every movement causes it to creak and groan as if it was about to break down any second? Or on a rowboat that's shaking and swaying with every thrust? We're going to do all that, baby. All that and more, wherever and whenever we want. Once we come back aboard after shore leave, we're going to be so damn relaxed that the entire crew is going to wonder what we did."

He kissed Jim's cheek, rocking them gently back and forth as he continued.

"Wherever we end up going on that shore leave, we're going to be together and we'll make every damn minute count. It's going to be the best time we ever had, I'm going to make sure of that. I'm going to make sure that you know how much I love you, and that I'm never letting you go again."

And maybe, if he could scrounge up the courage, that shore leave was going to be the time when he finally gave Jim the ring he had bought on the first Starbase they had come to after that accident on Berios III happened. Holding Jim for an entire night while the other man struggled hard not to scream from the pain in his fractured leg had driven a few lessons home for Leonard. One of them the fact that whatever tomorrow was going to bring, he didn't want to see it without Jim, all past hang-ups be damned. Maybe it had taken another night as horrible as that one for him to gather up the courage to ask Jim if he wanted that, too.

For now, though, that would have to wait. For now, Leonard gathered Jim more tightly in his arms and kept talking to him. He talked until his mouth was dry and his voice felt hoarse, but still he didn't stop. He told Jim about the mountain treks into the Rockies he had taken with his uncle as a child, and about how he and his father had once seen a black bear mother with her cubs when they had gone hiking. Most of all, though, he told Jim what they were going to do once they were finally on leave. He talked about the cabin and the lake, about the old fire pit near the shore where they could start a campfire when the weather was good, about his family's famous southern bakes beans that he was going to make for Jim, about all kinds of trivial things they could or couldn't do while on leave. And if he slipped into talking nonsense after a while, about how to properly grind the beans for a perfectly brewed coffee and why exactly it wasn't a good idea to go leave food outside for the night because it attracted bears, he figured Jim wasn't going to complain.

As long as his voice helped anchor Jim somewhat through the haze of pain, he'd recite Klingon poetry if that was what it took.

Time had lost meaning a while ago already, as had everything else going on outside of the curtains shielding the bed, but as the first sounds of shift change and increased activity started to sound from the main body of Medical, Leonard felt Jim relax more and more in his arms. By the time Christine peeked her head around the curtain, Leonard's throat was sore and Jim was finally, blissfully, asleep in his arms.

Jim slept for nearly ten hours, oblivious to everything around him as his body recuperated from the ordeal of the previous night. Leonard ran some tests, and there were no more traces of the blood worms in Jim's system, so Leonard decided to let him sleep unaided for as long as his body needed it. But he made sure never to be too far out of reach, so when Jim started to stir at some point in the late afternoon, he was right beside the bed. He was there as those blue eyes - red-rimmed and tired, but finally free from any trace of pain - blinked open.

"Hey," Leonard said, unable to keep the smile from his face even if his voice was slightly hoarse.

"Hi," Jim rasped right back, the corners of his dry lips curving upwards in a weak imitation of Leonard's smile. He was barely awake enough to drink a few sips of water and squeeze Leonard's hand tightly before he fell back asleep again, but Leonard figured after all that he had been through, that was okay. A nice change of pace to Jim trying to sneak out of Medical as soon as he was coherent, at least.

And even as he woke up again later that night, more coherent and for longer than the first time, he never once mentioned anything that had been said during the night. It was…well, Leonard should have expected it. It hadn't been very probable that Jim had really heard what he had been talking about all night long, and much less probable that he'd remember it through the haze of pain. So really, it didn't come as a surprise that Jim didn't remember, even if maybe somewhere, deep down, Leonard would have wished he did.

They didn't once mention shore leave, either, not that day and neither during the following weeks as Enterprise made its way back towards Earth. Leonard didn't find any further travel brochures in their quarters, but didn't quite dare mention where they'd be going for shore leave, either. Montana had been a spur of the moment idea, something he hadn't really been planning before that night in Medical. I had only been words meant to distract Jim from the pain, nothing more. And really, nothing at all spoke against deciding spontaneously, once they were back on Earth. They didn't have to make extensive plans.

If they ended up going to Risa, or anywhere else, Leonard wasn't going to complain as long as they were together.

Four weeks later, when Enterprise was just a few hours away from Jupiter Station, Jim came into their quarters and announced that they would need a lot more gear if they were to brave the Montana wilderness for any length of time. That statement rendered Leonard speechless, something that didn't really happen often because in all honesty, even if there was nothing to say there still was always something to gripe about. Not this time, though, because Leonard soon learned that Jim had been planning this ever since he had been released from Medical after his infection with the Margallian bloodworms.

The bastard.

Leonard couldn't even complain, because from light-years away Jim had somehow organized for someone to give the cabin a once-over and deliver provisions - canned beans, Bones, because trust me that if you promise me baked beans seasoned with Tennessee whiskey, I'm going to hold you to it - before their arrival.

An arrival which, if he was allowed to say it, Leonard hadn't known a damn thing about until it was almost time to leave. But Jim had this certain something, this grin that said you know I'm awesome, and you love me for it that made it almost impossible to be mad at him for anything. Much less for listening to him for once in his life, when for years Leonard had begged Jim to do exactly that.

Instead Leonard simply stepped back and watched, admittedly somewhat in awe, how Jim organized the process of docking Enterprise at Jupiter Station and getting all the bureaucratic crap out of the way to make sure that nobody was going to disturb them for the next two weeks. Leonard would be really stupid to complain about the fact that the only thing he had to take care of was packing his bag.

He still didn't know how exactly Jim pulled it all off, but he wasn't going to question how it happened that a mere six hours after Enterprise docked at Jupiter Station, he was standing on the small porch of his uncle's cabin, their bags piled haphazardly beside him, watching Jim running towards the lake. Jim's laughter and calls for him to come follow were echoing through the still air, but for the moment Leonard remained where he was, content to watch Jim as he shed his clothes on his way along the wooden landing. The sight of all the pale skin revealed in the afternoon sunlight made something stutter in Leonard's chest as he stood there, transfixed by the display of Jim shrugging out of his jeans, standing at the end of the landing for a second before he dove into the water with a loud whoop of laughter.

It was as if the splash of water following Jim's dive broke a spell because suddenly Leonard was moving, all thoughts about unpacking and getting settled forgotten. Toeing off his boots he turned towards the landing just as Jim broke the surface, spluttering and laughing, waving at Leonard to finally come join him.

Leonard didn't need any more invitation. Pulling his shirt over his head as he went, he breathed in the smell of cotton and sunshine and listened to the sound of Jim splashing around in the water, calling out his name.

Life was good.

The End

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