A/N: My formatting here is a little different. I'm not really sure this is going to be a chapter by chapter story, but the excerpts are a little long to be drabbles. So it will be what it will be. Enjoy!

Take Me Anywhere

Lieutenant Uhura was a distraction to Jim Kirk. He was fine on the days when they weren't working the same shift, naturally, because he couldn't see her, or hear her voice. He didn't have to force himself not to look at her and pretend they hadn't spent the entire last three days of their visit to his childhood home having the sex of his life. He'd told her he loved her, more than once, and he'd meant it. He did love her.

He couldn't help it, despite how stupid it made him.

He'd wanted her from the first time he'd seen her in that bar, because what man wouldn't— but to add to her obvious attractiveness was her intellect and fighting spirit. She didn't take shit from him or from anyone. She was a bad ass, his equal in female form. The more he had grown to know her, watching her sweep through their Academy days with all A's, the more his heart became engaged beyond his control. When he really thought about it, he'd joined Starfleet because of her. All he'd wanted was her to give him attention, which she had blatantly refused time and again. And for who, Spock? He still couldn't figure that one out.

"We get each other," she'd told Jim that first night in Iowa. Iowa should never have happened. Jim had been prepared to leave it at the kiss they'd shared on his front porch, but then Nyota had gone and ruined it by calling him upstairs, rationalized it all by saying they could just get it out of their systems. She'd warned him, told him she wasn't leaving Spock for him and he'd thought, It's okay if she doesn't, but now he couldn't get out of his mind what they had done, or how they had done it. Their time there together was the last thing he thought of every night before he fell asleep, alone in his quarters, and nine days out of ten, Nyota was the first thing on his mind when he woke up.

She wasn't exactly blowing him off, but he could sense tension in the air when they were in the same room. Jim couldn't be positive what might happen if he cornered her somewhere and forced her to talk to him privately. He didn't trust himself to do that yet. If she looked up at him with those beautiful dark eyes, he'd give her anything she asked for, even if it was a request for him to transfer. He'd considered it, in fact. Again, stupid. His mentor, the late Captain Pike, had basically died for him to have this ship, and now he was ready to give it all up for a woman who barely acknowledged him in passing. Relationships had always scared the holy fuck out of him, so he figured it was appropriate that he would fall in love with a woman who was just as indifferent towards him as he was towards other women he'd dated.

They were working the same shift—all three of them—though Spock was unaware he was part of a web of lies. Jim sat in his Captain's chair, waiting and watching as his ship catapulted through space towards their next adventure.

"I'm picking up a signal, Captain," his Communications Officer called, whirling around in her seat. "A greeting coming from quadrant 43A."

"Send them a return greeting and ask if we have their permission to land on the planet that's on the radar," Jim said, looking at her. It was a mistake, for the moment they caught eyes, he saw her in his mind, naked, pounding her ass back against him, his hands all over her.

"Say my name," he commanded.

"Jim!"

"Say it again." She tossed her hair from her eyes as her vaginal muscles clenched his member even tighter. She was coming, again. "Jim…Jim…Jiiiiim, ahh, fuck me…"

He shook his head to clear his mind from the images. "Jesus Christ…" he muttered.

"Sir?"

"Have they responded?" he called over his shoulder. Don't even look at her.

"They've given us permission, Captain. They don't speak Standard but both of us understand Caspian. Let me know if I can be of assistance with an away team."

"Hmm. Caspian," Jim muttered. "I think I remember the basics." Because there was no way he was going down there with her.

"We should enter their atmosphere in approximately twenty minutes, Captain," Sulu reported.

"I am detecting a concerning ring of gases surrounding the planet that have components of phosphorous pentafluoride. There is a storm of some kind occurring. The region itself appears to be stable for life but landing within the allotted destination time could possibly be dangerous," Spock mused, checking the readings from his station.

"That's what we have safety gear for, Spock," Jim said, standing up. "I'll check it out."

"I calculate the odds of a successful landing to be less than 40%. Perhaps a drone should be sent beforehand," Spock suggested.

Jim made a face. "Bah, that's taking the easy way out. Spock, take over while I'm down there."

"As you wish," Spock said, preparing to sit in the Captain's chair. Jim walked past Nyota on his way to the docking station. They regarded each other briefly, long enough for him to see obvious emotion in her eyes. Concern? Sadness? He couldn't tell and he couldn't ask her either. She said nothing and neither did he.

The trip was a disaster. The storm was too much for the shuttle pod to handle, and as Spock had predicted, Jim crashed on the surface. He didn't need a medical degree to tell him that his left arm was shattered in several places, especially not the way it looked, dangling grotesquely by his wrist. Jim used his good hand and thanked the father he had never known for strong teeth, which he used to tear bits of his shredded uniform to secure what he could of his mangled arm. His helmet had also shattered, and it wasn't long before he was spitting up mouthfuls of blood. His chest burned with every breath he took. His communication devices appeared to be broken, only emitting impatient hissing noises.

How easy it would be to just lay back against the ripped and broken panel of the shuttle pod and let go of his life. Jim was in so much pain after a day, he didn't bother to open his eyes. His thoughts wandered to death, but every time they did, he thought of Nyota—the way she had looked at him as he passed her station to come here. He couldn't let that be the last time they saw each other. So she became his strength, his reason to live, minute after minute, hour after hour. Jim clung to his thoughts of her, the moments he'd had with her in Riverside, watching her play with those wild rabbits and kissing her on the porch. The way she looked that first morning after, wearing his shirt as if she really did belong to him.

"Nyota..." he whispered as the hot wind burned his skin and he coughed up another mouth of blood.

Three days passed before Spock was able to find his coordinates to beam him back aboard. Jim was almost a goner by then.

"He doesn't look good. We've got to get him in quarantine right away," was the last thing he heard Bones say before he blacked out.

He slept for what felt like years.

When his eyes next opened, she was there.

"Am I dead or dreaming?" he muttered, blinking until Nyota came into focus. She dropped the PADD she was reading to the seat next to her and flew to his side.

"Jim! Oh, Jim!" she cried, flinging her arms around him, pressing her face into his neck. She burst into tears, which surprised him. He raised a bandaged hand to her back, carefully. His head was killing him and it burned slightly to breathe, but she was here and he could tolerate any pain because of it. "It's okay, Nyota," he said softly. "I'm alright now."

She lifted herself off of him, her eyes still streaming. "Do you have any idea…Do you know what McCoy was saying, that you might not pull through? You never listen! Spock told you not to go down there!" she hissed. She grabbed his face and kissed him on the mouth. Once, twice, three times.

"If I'd known I had to melt my lungs to get you to kiss me in public, I'd have done it a lot sooner," Jim said, smiling weakly at her.

"That's not funny. That is not funny, Jim. You almost died." She leaned across him, hugged him again.

It felt so good to hold her. "You know it hasn't been the first time and it probably won't be the last."

Nyota sat back to look at him, shaking her head sadly. "This is why I can't let myself love you," she said quietly, tousling his hair gently. "Because of the dumb shit you do. You won't stop making rash decisions and I'd never know when I'd be seeing you for the last time."

Jim's brows furrowed in confusion. He grabbed her hand with his good one. "Hold on, I thought you didn't at all. What are you trying to do, torture me? If you have feelings for me, then tell me! I've been trying to talk to you since we got back!"

"Don't," she said, pulling away. "We can't talk about that here. There are cameras everywhere. God only knows who's hearing what."

"I don't care," he said. "Kiss me again."

"No. Not now. You just concentrate on getting rest so you can have your ass back in that Captain's seat. And Jim, just…don't scare me like that again. Or at least, take me with you next time."

"I want you with me everywhere I go. You're the one who—"

Their conversation was cut short when the doors opened. Dr. McCoy entered, followed by a small team of medical staff. "I heard the monitors go off. Good to see you back, man," McCoy said. If he thought anything of how closely Jim and Nyota were sitting, he made no mention of it. Perhaps he hadn't noticed, as he was already consulting the notes on his PADD.

Nyota nodded at Bones, sliding from Jim's bed. "He's all yours, Leonard. Thanks for bringing our Captain back," she told him. From the way she sauntered from the room, you couldn't tell she'd just been crying over him at all.