Trust
Title: Trust
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Author: djkiwi2576
Warning: none
Summary: Trust wasn't his thing
A/N: written for rarepair50, Round 1: Prompt Table 9 - Random #3 - Prompt #25 - Trust
Word Count: 367
Disclaimer: Star Trek XI and its characters sadly do not belong to me. However all mistakes and lack of commas are all mine.
Trust
Bitterness had coiled around his heart years before. Somewhere between the whispers of his wife’s infidelity and the disappointment his father’s eyes held. Leonard McCoy didn’t trust people. When he met the kid with the ice blue eyes on the transport he’d unintentionally spilled his life story in less than five minutes. Bourbon could be blamed for that indiscretion. Now his roommate and sometimes friend followed him around and constantly pulled him into scheme after scheme.
“Trust me.”
McCoy bristled under those words. Trust wasn’t his thing.
Jim’s latest ruse… a romantic evening that would automatically find McCoy as the designated third wheel.
Jim had conquered the affections of an Orion goddess. However, Mr. All -American had failed to find his way into the good graces of the woman’s best friend, Nyota Uhura. She was tough as nails - mean as a snake - and the best looking woman Leonard McCoy had ever laid eyes on.
Three became four.
With one roll of her eyes, he knew she had trust issues of her own packed tightly in the invisible set of luggage at her feet. Their friends disappeared leaving them alone at a table riddled with empty beer bottles and the shells of half eaten peanuts. They sat in uncomfortable silence as the sounds of drunken cadets and music with too much bass and no meaning filled the space around them. The lights came up and neither had spoken a word since Jim and Gaila’s exit.
They fell in step on the sidewalk that led back to campus. Their hands hung idly at their sides. She didn’t wince when his fingertips brushed the back of her hand. In fact the smile she bestowed upon him warmed McCoy from the inside out. He allowed his touch to linger as he memorized the feel of her skin. It was like silk - smooth, delicate, and when spun correctly virtually indestructible.
McCoy’s resolve faded under the weight of her gaze. Without a second thought his mouth opened but the words dissolved somewhere between his heart and mind.
Her fingers stroked and danced across his palm before they encircled his hand in a loose embrace, “Trust me, your secrets are safe with me.”