nyota_uhura24 | [SOL! Verse

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The only way Nyota could keep from tapping her foot impatiently was to keep moving. Unfortunately, every moment spent in the diner and not the kitchen was a moment she had to exercise concerted effort not to look at the empty place where Jim should be. She hadn't seen him since Tuesday morning when she'd woken up in his arms. Spending the night was becoming a dangerous habit, but even if they got to spend all of Monday evening together it simply wasn't the same if she didn't get to fall asleep with her head on his chest and his hand in her hair. She was considering asking her father if she could spend all Monday nights at “Anna's,” but her guilt was making it difficult. She still had no idea what to do about the fact that her family could never know, but she couldn't regret a moment of it. She couldn't regret kissing him or touching him or falling asleep in his arms. She couldn't regret that when she next saw him they'd look at each other and smile and know. She couldn't regret loving him.

But Jim was already an hour late to work. She refilled a few coffee cups and collected empty plates before heading back to the kitchen, the restaurant sounding strangely quiet without Jim's guitar. Her father was hanging up the phone, a slight frown on his face. When she asked what was wrong he replied in Swahili, “Kirk isn't coming. Sounds like he's sick.” The words stopped her in her tracks, mind flashing instantly to an image of him standing in the cold without a coat, pleading with her to listen to him because he loved her. Clearly there was a horrified expression on her face, because her father was looking at her with open concern. “I'm sure he'll be all right, princess.”

“Of course. I need to... brew more coffee.” She chastised herself for overreacting, knowing that her family could never suspect just how much she cared or where it was she actually went on Monday nights. The remainder of the evening dragged on to the point that she was certain the clock must be broken, but she found time to make soup. She made a show of eating some of it, then packed the rest to take to Jim. When the diner finally closed, she made excuses that as usual went unquestioned and hurried off to the subway that would take her to the Bronx and to Jim. It was late, but she had to make sure he was all right, especially since it was her fault he'd been out in the cold to begin with. When she got there she dusted the snow off her jacket and rang the bell, hoping he wasn't asleep.

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Waking up with a naked Nyota in his arms on Tuesday morning had been one of those moments he was sure he'd remember for the rest of his life. She'd been tucked closely against his side, and he'd spent long minutes just watching her sleep, the way her hair fanned out over his pillow, the tiny, contented smile that curled her lips upwards even in sleep. How he'd ever been lucky enough to not only find her, but be lucky enough to have her love him back was something he didn't think he'd ever fully understand. It had been difficult to say goodbye, and he'd wanted nothing more than just stay in bed with her all day, but they both knew she had to get back to her family, and he had to go do some damage control at the studio. It would be days before they saw each other again, and a whole week before he got to have her in his arms again. It wasn't quite as hard to say goodbye as it had been on Christmas, because this time, he knew it wouldn't be the last time they were together.

When he'd arrived at the studio, Doris has pulled him into her office immediately. Apparently, Mrs. Lydecker had called her the day before and had more than a few unpleasant things to say about Jim, concluding her tirade with telling Mrs. Miller that she was taking her money elsewhere. Jim had fixed his boss with a slightly incredulous, defiant look and calmly stated that they both knew he hadn't been the aggressor with Mrs. Lydecker, or in any other instances, and firmly reminded her that he was a dance instructor, not a gigolo. He'd also reminded her that peddling flesh was a criminal offense, and that she was more than welcome to fire him if that's what she expected her teachers to be a part of. It would be a breach of his contract, it would be illegal, and he'd have absolutely zero compunctions about taking legal action against her. It had been incredibly satisfying to see her gaping like a fish and tell him he had a class to teach and that teaching was in his contract.

The last couple of days had apparently been more taxing than he'd realized, because when he got home, he was so tired he went straight to bed, and slept until it his alarm rang the next morning. And even then, he felt like he'd been run over by a Sherman tank. But he pulled himself together and made it through another day at the studio despite his sneaking suspicions that he was maybe just a little feverish. He'd gotten to tell Doris off, and he really didn't want to jeopardize his job any more than strictly necessary. Thursday, however, there had been no doubt in his mind about what was going on, and it had been impossible for him to deny that okay, so maybe he really was getting sick. Doris hadn't been pleased, but even she could tell by the sound of his voice that he wasn't in any condition to spend a day on the dance floor.

He'd tried to make it to the diner that night, grateful for the scarf and gloves Nyota had given him, but when he nearly hacked up a lung in the subway when he tried to answer someone who asked him for the time, he'd had to admit defeat. By the time he'd made his way home again, he was shivering, and had only managed a brief call to Mr. Uhura before he'd passed out on the bed.

The sound of his doorbell slowly filtered through his fevered dreams, and he was more than a little disoriented as he made his way to the door, idly noticing that he still had all his outerwear on. Oh well, at least he'd had the presence of mind to take off his boots. A weak smile tugged at his lips when he saw Nyota on the other side of the door, and he croaked out a "Hey..." before stepping aside to let her enter. "Wha-- what are you doing here?"

She waited impatiently for him to open the door, and once he had all her fears were confirmed. He was clearly ill and exhausted, still wearing his outwear even though he was indoors. "Jim..." She stepped inside, looking him over with obvious concern. She'd pulled off her gloves in the hallway, and one hand moved to rest on his forehead, the other cupping his flushed cheek. "I'm here because I'm worried about you. Baba said you were sick. I'm so sorry if I woke you." She couldn't resist giving him a brief, gentle hug before she ushered him towards the bed. "Come on, you need to lie down." Seeing him ill would always have made her worry, but the guilt of knowing that he probably caught something because he was out in the cold arguing with her made things even worse. Her mind flashed back to another conversation, when she'd asked him to call her if he was sick. It didn't really surprise her that he hadn't, but there was no way she was going to leave him alone in this condition.

The hand on his forehead was comforting, but cold and he shivered a little as she moved it. "Nah, 's fine. I'm fine..." he mumbled, mostly to himself and tried to keep up with her when she hugged him. It wasn't easy and she seemed to be doing her best impression of a hummingbird with the way she was first hugging him, then guiding him back towards the bed. Or maybe it just seemed that way because it was an effort for him to move faster than a catatonic sloth. He finally made the journey to his dresser and pulled out his pajamas. He might as well take advantage of being vertical, and jeans and his leather jacket really weren't all that comfortable to sleep in. "PJs..." he mumbled in explanation and forced himself to shed the magnificent warmth of his jacket, trying not to shiver too much as he undressed. "Need PJ's."

He was more than a little out of it, and her worry only increased when he mumbled that he was fine. He was clearly far from it, but pointing that out didn't seem particularly helpful at the moment. "You should have called me," she said softly, even though he probably couldn't have asked for her either at the diner or at home without arousing suspicion. At least she'd figured it out and could be here to make sure he would be all right. She was trying to guide him towards the bed, but he veered towards the dresser instead and got out pajamas. Her plan had been to get him to bed and then worry about his uncomfortable clothing, but this way was probably easier. "Let me," she said, gently moving his hands out of the way and unbuttoning his shirt to slide it off. "We'll get you into PJs and then you're going back to bed."

He made a small amused sound when she told him he should have celled her because there really hadn't been a time where he could have, even if he'd been inclined to. "Don't know if I'm contagious," he replied and let her unbutton his shirt. The sleep was gradually clearing from his head, making it just a little bit easier to keep up with what was going on around him, and as she worked on his shirt, he worked on undoing his pants and getting those off. He only had to hold onto her a little as he stepped out of them and got into the pajama bottoms, and he counted that as a victory. "I think..." he started pensively, then swallowed a few times to suppress a cough. "I think I might have a bit of a fever, Nyota."

"Don't worry about that," she replied when he said he didn't know if he was contagious. Right now there were more important things to worry about, though she was resisting the urge to kiss him. She supported him as well as she could as he put on the pajama pants and then gently helped him put on the pajama top. Her frown deepened when he said he might have a fever. "I'm pretty sure you do," she said softly. "Do you have a thermometer?" Now that he was in pajamas she tried once again to guide him towards the bed. She should be able to get anything else he needed for him. The way he looked and sounded reminded her disturbingly of Sadiki when she'd caught pneumonia, but Nyota was holding out hope that it was only a bad cold.

Once he had the pajama top on as well, he pulled her into his arms for a hug. The one she'd given him when she'd first walked in had been much too brief and unsatisfactory for him, and though he hadn't expected to have her in his arms until Monday, he really wasn't going to let this chance pass him by. "Sure," he answered and nuzzled against the top of her head, trying not to lean on her too much. He did have a thermometer, but he didn't really need it right now. Not when he had her in his arms and was moving them slowly towards the bed. "I've missed you..."

Her arms instinctively wound around him when he hugged her, one hand sliding through his hair. "I've missed you too," she murmured. "Every moment since I left Tuesday morning... I was so worried when you didn't show up to work." The thermometer wasn't forgotten, but getting him back to bed was probably more important, and they were moving that direction. Hugging him was also important, and even though she hated the circumstances a measure of contentment stole into her heart at being wrapped up in his arms again. She tried to get him to lean on her more, and when they got to the bed tried to ease him down onto it.

Making a contented little sound at the hand in his hair, he smiled when she told him she'd missed him just as much as he had her. "Haven't been able to stop thinking about you," he admitted quietly, holding onto her once they reached the bed. For a second, he considered picking her up to lay her down beside him, but quickly discarded the idea when the mere thought of it seemed to make his muscles protest. Instead, he lay down and got under the blissfully warm covers, then reached out for her to get in with him. All he wanted right now was just to hold her for a while and get a few more hours of sleep. If she was next to him, he might even stop feeling so achy and sore all over, or at the very least be able to ignore it.

"Thinking about you almost makes the moments I'm not with you bearable," she replied softly. It was true in more ways than one, for Jim inspired her and made her hope for something better, and the mere thought of him was enough to make her smile even though she missed him horribly. She was pulling the blankets up over him when he reached out for her, and though she probably ought to get the thermometer and perhaps make tea, rest was what he needed above else, and she couldn't walk away when he was so obviously miserable. She'd slipped off her boots at the door, and now she put her coat on the coffee table and climbed into bed beside him, carefully moving closer to cuddle against him.

When she got under the covers with him, he wasted no time in pulling her against him, fitting his legs behind hers, and practically curling himself around her as much as he could. He was still feeling chilled, and a small shiver ran through him, causing him to pull the covers tighter around them, and snake a hand up under her shirt to rest on the warmth of her stomach. Pressing a soft kiss to her neck, he chuckled quietly to himself and whispered, "And here I was hoping we'd moved past wearing clothes in bed. I like it much better when I can be naked with you..." The theoretical concept of nudity was a very appealing one, but right now, the practical application of it only sent another chill through him.

She nestled closer against him, feeling immensely comfortable in his arms but worrying a little that she ought to be the one holding him right now. The hand on her stomach and the kiss to her neck sent heat weaving down her spine; even though now was clearly not the time for anything but cuddling she couldn't help reacting to his touch. Her hand moved under her shirt to rest over his, finger sliding into the spaces between his. She turned her head to nuzzle against him and press a kiss to wherever she could reach. "None of that," she chastised gently when he talked about nudity. "You need to get warm and rest so that you'll be healthy enough for us to be naked together soon." He shivered again, and she tried to shift closer. "You're still cold? Do you need me to get you anything, love?"

With her in his arms like this, he could almost, almost mentally distance himself from his sore joints and aching muscles. His eyes had already drifted closed again, and he held her just a little tighter when she nuzzled against him. "For once, I think you might be right about the nudity. Would just get cold..." And right now, staying warm was a much more appealing thought than having sex with her. It should probably worry him that that was the case, but right now, he just didn't really have the energy to worry about much of anything. "Hmmm..." he hummed tiredly in reply to her question, trying to relax enough to go back to sleep, and suppress the tickling in his throat. "Maybe a clonk on the head with a four-by-four, so I can get some sleep."

She hummed in agreement when he said he would just get cold. "There will be plenty of time for nudity once you're healed," she said softly. When he joked about being hit in the head her lips turned downwards in frown. "You can't sleep?" she asked, voice full of concern. Shifting a little in his arms to get a better look at him and touch a hand to his forehead did nothing to alleviate her concern. "Jim, maybe I should take your temperature after all. Or some tea might make you throat feel better. I brought soup, too..." There was a good possibility he wouldn't be able to eat anything, but she could at least make a drink to soothe his throat. Her mind flashed through a number of other remedies, and though she didn't want to be away from him for even a moment she might be able to do more good out of bed than in.

"Never enough time for nudity with you," he murmured and shifted a little, trying to get a little more comfortable, and failing. "I'll drift off eventually, s'okay..." He was relatively sure he would, and anyway, as long as she was in bed with him, he could endure being awake for a while. At the mention of taking his temperature, he cracked one eye open, trying to communicate exactly how unimpressed he was with that idea. The idea of something hot to drink suited him much better, but then there would be the effort of getting out of bed to make it, and the effort of being upright long enough to drink it. Both seemed like insurmountable tasks at the moment. "Just need to stay like this..."

She made a soft noise of amusement at that sentiment and stroked his hand. It was still a little difficult for her to believe that she'd gotten relatively comfortable being naked with him, though she had no doubt that she'd still blush a little the next time they did more than kiss. At the moment, however, she had more pressing concerns. His inability to sleep worried her, and the scratching in his throat was bad when he was simply breathing and worse when he spoke. Pressing another kiss to whatever skin she could reach, she murmured, "Jim, I'm going to make something for your throat. Just stay here and try to sleep, okay? I'll be back in a few minutes." She squeezed his hand and moved to gently shift out of his arms.

Jim's attempt to prevent her from getting out of bed, and consequently out of his reach, was foiled by the tickle in his throat becoming more of a rasp every time he breathed in. Burying his face in his pillow so as to not cough on her, and to try and keep from coughing up his lungs this time. Something hot to drink would perhaps not be the worst idea she's ever had, even if he hates having to rely on her to take care of him. Once he's relatively sure he can speak again, he lifts his head and gazes blearily at her. "M'kay... I think I've got some honey somewhere..." More coughing interrupted him, and he settled for waving in the general direction of his kitchen.

Edited 2011-02-15 04:41 (UTC)

He seemed a little reluctant to let her go, but he was clearly in need of something to relieve the scratch in his throat. The way he coughed into the pillow made her brows knit in concern, heart wrenching at seeing him so miserable. She carded a hand through his hair before sliding out of bed. "I'll be right back. Rest, Jim," she said softly as she walked into the kitchen and put on water for tea. She found honey in one of the cabinets, as well as tea, but there didn't seem to be any lemons. While she waited for the water to boil she returned to the bed to sit beside him and caress his hair. "I'm so sorry you're sick, Jim," she whispered, knowing there was a good chance he was sick because he'd been out in the cold without a coat.

As he heard her move about the kitchen, he worked on getting his breathing under control. And it really was a horrible invention to be feverish and have to expend energy he didn't have on coughing, when that energy could be put towards much more worthwhile pursuits. Pursuits like sleeping, or getting Nyota back in his bed and snuggling her. But at least she returned to his side and he leaned into the hand caressing his hair. "Not your fault," he whispered, trying not to provoke another round of coughing. "Anyway, I've had worse. I'll live..."

She hummed sympathetically as he leaned into her touch. "But if it weren't for me..." She didn't particularly want to bring up their argument at the moment, even though she'd planned to make sure he was able to keep his job. Now didn't really seem like the time to ask, so she just kept stroking his hair and added with just a hint of teasing, "And you'd better live. I'd never forgive you if you didn't." The water would be boiling soon, so she leaned closer to press a kiss to his hair before slipping out of bed again. She returned a few minutes later with a mug of tea and honey. "Can you sit up a little for me?" she asked, sitting beside him once more and setting the mug on the nightstand so she could help him.

Making a wryly amused little noise, he moved closer to the hand stroking his hair, enjoying the soothing touch. "I make my own decisions, Nyota. Don't try to take on responsibilities that don't belong to you. It was my choice, not yours, and this isn't your fault." Sighing a little when she left the bed again, he hoped he'd managed to relieve her of some of the guilt she obviously felt for him getting sick. It was a little ridiculous, because it really had been more his fault than hers. She returned after not too long, and he gave her a slightly sarcastic smile and tried not to make it seem like sitting up took the effort it did. "I'm feverish, not crippled. I can sit and drink just fine, thanks."

Her heart melted a little as he leaned into her touch, and she tried to keep from frowning when he told her it wasn't her fault. It was true that she wasn't responsible for his decisions, but he'd still spent a lot of time outside because he was with her. "I'm just sorry you're sick," she said gently, not wanting to argue. When she returned with the tea and asked him to sit up, it was obvious that it took more effort than he was letting on. She huffed a breath and replied, "Good. Then you can stop griping and let me worry about you." Shifting a little closer and handing him the tea, she tried to snuggle and support in equal measure, and though she wanted to be there for him to lean on it comforted her simply to be close to him.

He turned his head just enough to give her a sarcastically innocent smile as he took the tea from her. "Hmmm... Nope, don't think so. You're not allowed to worry about me." But he did take her up on her silent offer to lean on her a little. Cautiously shifting closer, he rested his head on her shoulder, wincing a little as he took a sip of the tea. It was blissfully hot and soothed his raw throat. "I'm an ass when I'm sick, so I totally understand if you want to make your escape while you still can." Though he really hoped she wouldn't. Just lying here in bed with her made him feel better, and as long as she didn't get any cruel ideas about thermometers or cool showers, he was going to at least make an attempt at being a good patient.

She arched an eyebrow when he forbade her to worry about him. "I'd love to see you try and stop me," she replied lightly as she leaned closer to kiss his cheek. She was glad he was leaning on her and drinking the tea, but he still felt warm and his throat was obviously sore. When he offered her an escape she shook her head. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, and you're perfectly entitled to be an ass, just don't expect me not to worry about you." She layed a hand on his leg and nuzzled against him, speaking the next words softly as if that might make them less real. "...At some point I'll be expected home, but I really don't want to leave you alone." Every instinct compelled her to stay and make sure he was all right, but sleeping away from home two nights in one week was definitely suspicious.

Smiling to himself at her insistence, he took another sip of tea, then closed his eyes and relaxed back against her. It was kind of nice to have her here and taking care of him, he could admit as much to himself, even if he'd never say it out loud. "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you. We're only at the tea and coughing right now, just wait until I can't sleep, or get tired of lying in bed." Or if she eventually got the insane idea that he needed a doctor. Which he absolutely didn't. At all! Making a soft sound, he returned her nuzzling and nodded. "Yeah, I know. Thanks for stopping by, though. And really, I'll be just fine. At least the heater's working this time." It would have been nice to have her stay all night, but he knew they couldn't risk discovery.

She sighed contentedly and began tracing idle patterns on his leg when he relaxed against her. "I think I can handle it, Jim. I have five younger siblings who are all extremely obnoxious when they get sick, and I've looked after every one of them. If you can't sleep I'll sing you a lullaby, and if you get tired of lying in bed... I'll find ways to make you want to stay." The words were punctuated with a hint of mischief and a kiss to his hair. Even though she hated the circumstances and was concerned about his health, cuddling with him still made the world seem like a brighter place. "You're welcome... I really want to stay," she said softly, taking his hand and tangling their fingers together.

Despite his fever and general sluggishness, the hand on his leg and the not so subtle implied meaning of her words made him think some decidedly unchaste thoughts. Tilting his head upwards a little, he pressed a few hot, open-mouthed kisses to her neck and up to her ear where he whispered hoarsely. "You're really very cruel to talk about things like that when I'm in no condition to take you up on them. Keep going and I'll end up ridiculously aroused with no energy to take care of it, or you." With a last little peck just under her ear, he turned his head back to rest against her shoulder, smirking a little to himself. If she kept saying things like that, there was no reason why he should be the only one getting frustrated. "I'd like it if you did, but... I'm not really functional enough to come up with a believable excuse right now."

Her breath hitched when he kissed his way up her neck, stomach clenching with the beginnings of desire. "Which is why such distractions will only be used as a last resort if you decide to be particularly difficult. You need to rest, Jim," she chastized, though there was a hint of breathiness in her voice. Her mind wandered to all of the incredible things he'd introduced her to on Monday night, but she was well aware that he was too ill to do any of them now. Sighing a little, she replied, "The only real excuse I can give for staying away from home is that I'm at a friends house, but I can only say that so many times before it sounds suspicious... Maybe I'll come up with something, but let's not worry about it right now." Even though it was a necessary part of their relationship, she didn't want to spend all their time talking about ways to avoid being found out. "Do you think you can sleep a little?"

"And that's supposed be entice me to behave?" he asked teasingly, though he wasn't backing up his words with actions. This new brand of teasing banter between them was enjoyable, and it helped him think of something besides his misery. But he really was too exhausted to follow through on it in any way, and it wouldn't be fair to either of them to pretend he was. "I'll enjoy you as long as I've got you here. I know you can't stay, don't worry about it." Taking another few sips of tea, he did just that; enjoyed having her with him and let himself melt against her, her caresses on his leg making his existence almost tolerable. "I'd rather stay like this with you, though don't get insulted if I doze off..."

"Maybe it's not," she replied innocently, eyes twinkling with mirth. She could still feel the ghost of a blush on her cheeks, but she liked being able to talk about this without stammering or excessive embarrassment. She very much wished they could do more than talk about it, but that obviously wasn't an option until he was better. As he relaxed further against her she inhaled deeply and snuggled against him. "You should sleep, Jim yangu," she murmured, barely realizing she'd added the Swahili possessive. I want you to get better, and to do that you need rest. I'll stay as long as I can." Pressing another kiss to his head, she asked, "Is there anything else you need?"

He chuckled quietly at her reply and reached out to set his cup on the nightstand. "Mmm. Then I'll be sure to behave as badly as I know how." On the return trip, his hand found it's way up under her shirt to cup her breast and fondle it tenderly as he snuggled a little closer. In reality, it was a far from sexual touch, and it was becoming increasingly hard to keep his eyes open. "Nope, just need you," he mumbled drowsily, tangling their legs together and making idle circles with his thumb on her skin. "Wake me before you go?" Giving in, he let his eyes drift shut and his breathing even out. It was so very good to have her hold him like this, to feel safe and protected and loved. Breathing out an almost inaudible "Love you," he hoped she'd still be there when he woke up so he could enjoy her company just a little longer.

"Do you know how to behave any other way?" she teased, smiling fondly at him. When his hand slipped under her shirt her breath caught, the blush on her cheeks deepening when he caressed her breast. He tangled their limbs together and relaxed against her, and though it was easy to melt against him her heart was racing a little. She took a deep breath and tried to relax in spite of the touch that still felt so intimate even though they were just snuggling. "I'll wake you," she whispered, heart fluttering a little when he said he only needed her. "I love you too, Jim. Naku penda hazina," she murmured, gently caressing his hair and thinking that he really was a treasure to her. Even if he wouldn't appreciate the sentiment, she wanted to take care of him when he was sick or hurting. Her eyes closed, but she didn't want to sleep so much as she wanted to just enjoy how safe and warm and happy she felt tangled up with him like this. She tried her utmost not to think about the fact that she couldn't stay here forever.

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