Red Means Dead

The Nightingale or the Lark

A faint, constant buzzing pulls me from absolute, perfect slumber and I take a deep breath, stretching an arm out from under the sheet to find my PADD.

"No, don't," McCoy whispers near my ear, wrapping his arm tighter around me. "It's not morning yet."

"It's the alarm," I murmur, closing my eyes as his warmth lulls me back to near unconsciousness. My arm falls off the edge of the bed and he wraps his hand around my wrist, pulling it back under the cover.

He laces our fingers and squeezes a few times. "No, it's a comm, go back to sleep."

I drift further back to sleep but it buzzes again and I take another sharp breath, trying to wake myself. Extracting my hand, I grope around on the ledge behind the bed, trying to remember where I set the infernal device. "But it's morning."

"No, it's still night. I'd bet on all the stars."

"Don't get my hopes up." I curl into him and take another settling breath. "Why do you always smell like pie?" I ask, pressing my cheek against his chest.

His chuckle rumbles against my ear. "I'm a good southern gentleman, aren't I? It's either that or bourbon. Go back to sleep."

"What if it's an important comm?"

"There is nothing more important than you here, in my arms, asleep."

"But--"

"Peeeaaccchhheeesss," he sighs, tickling stray hairs into my ear canal.

I squirm an arm free and scrub at my head, more awake now than ever. Flustered, I paw at the counter and find the device, vowing to throw it against the wall as soon as I get the buzzing to stop. Resting it against his chest, I blink against the harsh glow as it fills the dark room. "It is the lark," I sigh, thumbing off the alarm. A message comes through before I can remove my hand.

"And a comm."

"It's probably from your momma. Five more minutes."

I squint and blink, trying to get my eyes to focus. "It's from the Captain."

"I'm awake," he responds quickly, his voice still rough from sleep.

I push myself to a sitting position and McCoy is right there with me, scrubbing his face with one hand while bracing his other arm behind my back. We read the communique together and realize at the same moment that I've been tasked to the away party to investigate the derelict ship.

"This is...something," I say, running my finger up and down the screen to see if there's more.

Resting his hand on my thigh, McCoy asks quietly, "Are you okay with it?"

I look at the contact and furrow my brow. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Taking his time, he finally replies, "You've not been off ship since Eris."

"I, hunh, well, I...," I chuckle softly. "Yeah. I haven't. But I'm okay with going." I think about it some more. "Yeah. I'm stoked about going. Is that bad of me?"

"Why would it be?"

A shrug of my shoulders turns into a whole body slump and I give him a look, hoping I don't have to say what is racing through my mind. To admit I didn't even think of Mei first, what does that say of me?

"You're ready for this, Sadie."

"Yeah?"

"Of course. If I thought any differently, I'd voice my concerns as CMO and as your boyfriend, though I don't think you would listen to either."